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When Namjoon posts it, Jungkook and Jimin are just finishing up with their vocal lessons at the company building. Coughing a couple times, Jimin throws his head back in order to chug down a couple gulps of water, Adam’s Apple bobbing with the movement. He focuses on the way the lukewarm water feels trickling down his throat and moans inaudibly because of it; the feeling is so soothing after two whole hours of intense vocal training but he knows it’s all for the best, all because he needs to be at the top of his game for the concert taking place in Busan in a few days time. It is his hometown after all.
He’s crushing the now empty plastic bottle into a little ball when he hears someone call his name, following it with a series of words he’s not focused enough to pick up on. He twists the bottle cap back on before he turns to face the voice. “What did you say?”
“I said—” Seokjin rolls his eyes from where he stands, arm pressed up against the doorframe of the vocal line’s shared studio room “— there’s only one car waiting outside right now and Taehyung and I have placed our dibs on it.”
Jimin swivels around in his seat and chucks the scrunched plastic into the bin, watching as it bounces off the wall and ricochets right into his target. Taehyung lets off an impressed hoot with a soft applause but Jimin ignores it. He’s a bit disappointed by the news, not angry, just a little frustrated that he or Jungkook hadn’t been quick enough to lay claim on the first vehicle that arrived at the studio. He’d— they’d had intentions to get practice done as quickly as possible before rushing home to a certain someone who waits for them back at the dorms but now… now they have to wait for the next car to show up for them.
He doesn’t let the mild annoyance manifest itself on his face though, choosing to just nod stiffly in his hyung’s direction. “Alright. Get home safe, yeah?”
Seokjin mumbles a quick phrase of gratitude before repeating the wish of a safe journey right back to him. He then claps loudly in order to pressure Taehyung into moving quicker, since he still hasn’t shrugged on his outer coat. When he finally does, the two of them say goodbye a final time before leaving the studio behind, their arms linked tightly together in the embrace they’ve been sporting ever since they officially told management they were a couple a few weeks ago. Jimin can’t help but smile softly as he watches them leave, staring absentmindedly after them until the studio door slams shut once again.
Placing his hands on the lower half of his jean clad thighs, Jimin pushes himself off of his seat, the subtle creak of his joints exposing how long he’s been seated for. He’s about to put his arms above his head in a stretch but his eyes catch on Jungkook’s figure and he can’t help but flinch in shock; it had been quiet in the studio, the only breathing that Jimin could hear was his own, so when he sees Jungkook still present, sitting with his shoulders narrowed and his nose buried into his phone, Jimin is a little bit surprised.
He gives up on his stretch, choosing to instead walk towards where Jungkook sits. He stops right in front of him, the toes of his chelsea boots pressing into the chunky ends of the younger man’s black trainers. Smirking at how focused he is on his phone, Jimin brings up a hand caress Jungkook’s hair. He starts off light, threading his ring adorned fingers through the thick, black strands before he presses down hard, massaging the scalp of his boyfriend.
Jungkook purrs quietly, moving his head in order to meet the feeling of Jimin’s fingers but he doesn’t look up at him, his attention still stuck on whatever it is that must be on his phone screen.
“What are you looking at?” the older man asks with a tilt of his head. He waits for a reply but Jungkook doesn’t give him one, ignoring his words completely and keeping his gaze glued to his screen. Jimin narrows his eyes at that, not appreciating the silent treatment at all.
With the same fingers that had once massaged and caressed Jungkook’s scalp, Jimin tugs at his black hair, not harsh enough to hurt but hard enough that it jerks the younger man’s head back, forcing him to remove his focus from his mobile device.
Using this leverage, Jimin gives himself a moment to look at Jungkook and what he sees before him makes him even more confused. The man’s doe-eyes are wide, dazed and unfocused, his lips are parted as airy breaths leave his mouth, and his face is flushed, a gentle pink that runs from his cheeks to the very tip of his round nose. Jimin knows that look, knows it too well…he’s just not sure why his boyfriend is wearing it in such a setting.
“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”
Jungkook tries to nod his head but Jimin’s grip in his hair does a surprisingly good job at keeping him still. “Yes, hyung.”
“So answer it.”
“It’s Joonie,” the younger man speaks between two heavy, slow intakes of breath. “He posted something.”
“Oh?” Jimin smirks, the left side of his mouth lifting up in amusement. “What did he post, baby?”
Jungkook blinks up at him and for a moment Jimin is taken aback by how beautiful his eyes look, reflecting the light that shines overhead right back towards him. “A selfie, hyung. On twitter… he posted a selfie.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.” A sweet smile spreads across Jungkook’s face, his front teeth digging into this bottom lip and Jimin’s heart flutters in response to it. God , his baby is adorable. “He’s pretty. Joonie-hyung is so pretty.”
They stare at each other for a beat of a few seconds before Jimin looks away, using the hand that isn’t placed on Jungkook’s head to reach down and pry the phone from Jungkook’s grip. When he successfully retrieves the item, he nudges Jungkook further into the chair and takes a seat on the younger boy’s lap, his legs dangling off the side of Jungkook’s thigh. Once seated comfortably, he spins the phone in his hand and has a look for himself.
He gets it.
The picture is zoomed in slightly but he can’t really see the whole image but fuck… he understands Jungkook’s reaction entirely.
Namjoon’s on the screen, his bare face taking up most of the picture as he seems to be laying in bed, the lower half of his face nuzzled into a pillow that’s situated under his head. He’s smiling---Jimin can’t see his mouth but he knows he is, the expression shows itself in the squint of his eyes and the very soft image of a dimple in his cheek. His platinum blonde hair is messy but perfect, falling unstyled over his forehead as if the boy had ruffled it several times, making sure it fell how he wanted it to before he pulled his phone out and took the picture. Jimin bets that he did, bets he took several pictures and spent about ten minutes scrolling through all of them before choosing the one he wanted to post.
The only other part of Namjoon’s body that is exposed within the picture is his shoulder and Jimin can see the soft, light purple of his pyjamas. Jungkook must notice the change in Jimin’s facial expression because he lets out a little giggle, shuffling forward to look at the phone with him.
“Swipe right, hyung.” He sounds excited, Jimin notes. He spares a brief look at him but the man is, yet again, taken by the image on the phone. So without any further hesitation, Jimin complies and moves his index finger across the screen.
When he does, his breath catches in his throat. Fuck . Pretty… so fucking pretty that Jimin feels dizzy because of it. The small glimpse of soft material he saw in the first picture is now in full display as the angle has changed, the photo taken from above, showing the entirety of Namjoon’s torso and the very top of his right thigh. The pyjamas seem soft, fluffy and are a light purple that are wrapped around Namjoon’s entire body. His arm lays next to his torso, the sleeve of his pyjama top bunched up around his forearm, exposing the tanned skin and the tense muscle that sits underneath. His hand is big, wrist slim and dainty, and Jimin remembers all those times he’s held the larger man down whilst fucking into him… all those times he’s made Jungkook hold him down whilst Jimin, himself, ate him out.
Jimin struggles to do it, but he swallows down his hunger. “Isn’t our hyung cute, Kook-ah?” he asks with a small smile, bringing the phone down to rest on his lap and tilting his head to stare right at Jungkook. If they were standing, Jungkook would be towering over him but now, with Jimin seated in the younger boy’s lap, their faces are leveled and Jimin can feel his lover’s soft breaths on his nose.
He cooes at him when he doesn’t answer, the dazed look on his face is too sweet to resist as he leaves the phone on his thighs and reaches up to cup Jungkook’s face and trace his thumb over his bottom lip. Greedy as ever, Jungkook sucks the digit into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the tip of it. Jimin laughs.
“Were you imaging what you’re going to do to him when you get home, baby? Hm?” The older man sounds amused. “Thinking about dirtying hyung’s cute little pyjama set? Thinking about rubbing yourself all over that soft material?”
Jungkook mumbles out a reply around Jimin’s thumb, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth but Jimin can’t quite comprehend what he says. He leaves his mouth alone and asks him to repeat himself.
Blushing intensely, Jungkook licks his lips. “If you’d let me.”
Even if he tried to hide it, there is no way Jimin can fight the smile that takes over his face at what he hears. Jungkook is so pliant and obedient, cheeks still rosy as he leans forward trying to catch Jimin’s lips in a kiss. A wave of playfulness washes over him, causing him to lean away from Jungkook’s advances.
“No… no.” Jimin leans so far back that he nearly falls off Jungkook’s lap but an arm comes round to wrap itself around his waist. He’s so strong, Jimin admires the heaviness of his hand by his hip, he loves that he can make such a muscular man so weak. “Not with all that spit on your mouth. You’re so messy, baby.”
“Please--” the larger man begs, moving forward again, far enough that his nose nudges against Jimin’s before he gets the chance to pull back “-- hyung, please .”
Normally he’d drag this on longer, see how much he can deny Jungkook’s advances until the boy starts whining and crying because of the rejection but he can’t lie to himself… he wants to kiss Jungkook just as bad as Jungkook wants to kiss him. So, with a smirk still plastered on his face, Jimin moves forward and presses his lips against Jungkook’s wet ones.
Their lips just press together, no movement at first and Jimin can tell that Jungkook’s waiting for him to take charge. But that doesn’t happen straight away.
Finally becoming desperate, Jungkook pushes forward, poking his tongue at the middle seam of his hyung’s lips and prying his mouth open. Jimin lets Jungkook control the slide of their tongues for a moment before his hand makes its way back into his hair, pulling his head back and angling him in the way he wants him to be presented as. Jungkook whimpers, the sound getting lost in the embrace as Jimin kisses him slowly and deeply, as if they’re not in a rush, as if the studio door isn’t unlocked and anyone can walk in at any moment.
Jimin shuffles round, about to straddle Jungkook’s thighs properly when a loud ding rings throughout the room. It startles both of them, making the youngest jump slightly and Jimin groans in quiet disappointment. The phone buzzes a second time and before it falls off Jimin’s knee, he picks it up.
[Driver] [7:48pm]
I’m outside. Parked in the usual spot.
••
The drive back to the dorm is relatively quiet, their driver not being one for small talk and the radio only playing out soft music in English, a song that neither Jimin nor Jungkook know well enough to sing along to.
Since they entered the car, only a couple words have been spoken and each and every one of them has come from Jimin’s mouth. He said good evening to the driver, thanked him for picking them up, before looking over at Jungkook and telling him to sit on his hands .
Why? Because Jungkook is a fidgeting, squirming mess, and the very moment he sat down in the vehicle, he had rubbed the heel of his palm over his erection that pressed up against the material of his form fitting tracksuit bottoms. He was hard, so hard… has been hard since he first saw the picture of his hyung in his pretty little pyjamas, has felt fit to burst ever since Jimin had wiggled into his lap and stuck his thumb into his mouth. He wants to touch himself, needs to make himself comfortable but Jimin won’t allow him to.
He could disobey, remove his trembling hands from underneath his thighs and stroke himself once. Just once. Over the thin material of his clothes. But Jimin would get upset at him, and he can’t disappoint him… he won’t… especially since he wants to be allowed to play with Namjoon when they get back home.
And they do. Twenty minutes and a short but tense elevator ride later, Jungkook finds himself standing behind Jimin as he raps his knuckles against Namjoon’s bedroom door. Jungkook doesn’t hear a reply, his head too fuzzy to comprehend anything but the feeling of Jimin’s hand in his, but Jimin does. A muffled voice beckons them both into the space and Jimin is quick to grab onto the door handle and push his way into the room.
Once inside the space, Jungkook reaches a shaky hand behind him to lock the door.
The lighting in Namjoon’s room has been dimmed down slightly, causing both of the younger men to take a couple seconds to adjust to it but once they do, they set their eyes on their hyung. Namjoon sits there, soft purple pyjamas still adorning his body, his back pressed up against the bed’s headboard as he reads a book. He’s wearing his reading glasses, Jungkook notices, the thick black frames are still visible despite the fact that the book in his hand is blocking almost half of his face. He must really be enjoying whatever it is he’s reading because his nose is practically buried into the novel--
“Are you hiding from us, Joonie?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the silence, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it somewhere on the floor.
“N-no,” the older man stutters out, pathetically. Jungkook takes a clumsy step forward and moves to remove his hoodie, throwing it in the exact same way Jimin did.
“Hm, I hope not.” Jimin walks past where Jungkook stands, staring, and makes his way towards Namjoon’s bedside. “Would hate to see you get all shy now… especially after you posted those pretty little pictures on Twitter. Weren’t they pretty, Kookie?”
Jungkook swallows deeply. “Yes. Fuck. So pretty.”
“Mhmm,” he hums, pleased. Jimin then brings his ring clad fingers down to take the book away from Namjoon, finally exposing his face to the rest of the room. The youngest out of the three holds in a gasp as he looks at his hyung, his cheeks a deep pink, the contrast great when compared to his tanned skin, his large glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as his gaze bounces between the two men that stand before him. He looks shy… guilty, even but most of all… he looks good enough to eat.
“How many times did you pose for your camera, baby?” Jimin slowly takes Namjoon’s glasses off for him, placing the specs on the top of the bedside table. “Bet you took a hundred, hm? Wanted to look all pretty and perfect for the internet, yeah?”
“And for you.”
“What was that?”
“A-and for you… for both of you.” Namjoon’s words stumble out, neck craned and Adam's apple on display as he looks up at Jimin, the smaller man towering over him because of their positioning. Jungkook wants to bite into it, wants to litter bruises all over his hyung’s soft skin.
“Really? He says he made himself look pretty for us, Kook-ah.” Jimin breaks eye contact with Namjoon to look at him, and Namjoon follows his gaze, his wide eyes now free from his lenses looking straight at him as well. “What do you say when someone does something nice for you, baby?” Jimin adds on with a quirk of his brow.
“Thank you, Joonie,” Jungkook replies quickly, the words coming from the very bottom of his heart.
“It’s… it’s okay.” Somehow the blush on Namjoon’s cheeks deepen, as he blinks a couple times and looks down at his lap, his thick thighs covered in the soft material that Jungkook still wants to feel against his skin.
“Hyung--” He takes a few more shaky steps towards the bed “-- can I?”
“Can you what?” Jimin addresses him.
“Fuck him? Please.” His knees bump against the end of the mattress but he doesn’t mount the bed, not yet… not without permission.
Humming again, Jimin brings a hand to tap at his own chin, seemingly in thought. “Do you think he deserves that?”
“Yes.” Another immediate response from Jungkook. God, he’s so eager to jump on the bed, to touch Namjoon. He’s wanted to get his hands on him from the moment his phone loaded and the image found its way onto his screen. His fingertips buzz with the excitement that flows through his entire body.
“What about you, Joonie? Do you think you deserve to be fucked?” Jimin looks back down at the oldest again.
Namjoon nods, the movement displacing some strands of blonde and causing them to fall over his eyes. Jimin is kind enough to bring a gentle hand up to brush them away.
“I do.” His voice is quiet. “I even… I even--”
“Even what, Joonie?”
“I even prepared myself. Do you… do you want to see?” Namjoon’s gotten shy again, turning his face into his right shoulder, cheek pressed into the material as he nuzzles against himself, all squirmy under the intense gaze of his boyfriends. He likes it so much. Although it makes him feel small, it makes him feel wanted as well, sexy… pretty... and he can’t wait to show them his little present.
Jimin tells him that he’d be more than happy to see what he wants to show them, and Jungkook makes an incoherent noise of agreement.
Nodding at them, Namjoon puts himself up on shaky knees, turning to kneel down facing the headboard of his bed. His fingers tremble a little as he brings them to hook themselves under the waistband of his trousers. Sucking in a deep breath, he tugs the clothing down, passing his ass until the fabric pools around the back of his knees. Only then does he reach forward to hold the headboard, leaning to press his forehead up against the wood.
Someone mumbles something under their breath but Namjoon can’t hear them, his heart beating so far up his throat that the sound deafens him.
“Kookie? Baby?” Jimin starts.
“Yes!” the younger man squeaks out, sounding somewhat pained.
“Go hold Joonie-hyung open for me, okay?”
Namjoon doesn’t hear or see Jungkook’s reply to the command; he feels it instead as the bed dips down under the presence of added weight. He shuffles forward before bringing his hands down onto Namjoon’s ass, his fingertips still cold with the temperature of nighttime Seoul air wrapped around them.
Greedily, Jungkook kneads at the flesh there, squeezing and playing with the muscle that sits underneath his hyung’s beautiful, unblemished skin. He’s about to lean forward to kiss at it, nip it a little with his teeth but Jimin makes a displeased sound, clearly not appreciating being kept waiting.
So he obeys, digging his fingertips deeper into the skin, Jungkook spreads Namjoon’s cheeks further apart, gasping loudly when he sees what’s sitting there waiting for him… for both of them.
A buttplug sits nestled snuggly inside of Namjoon, it’s handle small, pink and circular, the colour looking beautiful next to the older man’s deep complexion. From his peripheral vision, Jungkook sees Jimin walk closer to the bed to have a look for himself. He’s quiet (just as he always is when he’s focused), reaching around Jungkook to press two fingers against the handle, pushing the toy deeper into Namjoon’s hole. The room fills with a wet squelching noise accompanied by a little whimper and honestly, Jungkook can’t tell whether it was he or Namjoon who made the sound.
Greatly satisfied by the reaction, Jimin wraps his fingers tightly around the handle and begins to use it to fuck Namjoon. The obscene sounds continue and Jungkook feels his tongue dry up at the image in front of him, his hands suddenly becoming too weak to hold Namjoon open for Jimin’s advances.
“Fuck…” Jimin finally says something. “Look at him… look at how our hyung’s greedy little hole is swallowing up his toy.”
Namjoon whines, face going hot with embarrassment as he presses his cheek harder into the wood of the bed frame.
“Please, Jimin. Please!” Jungkook babbles, unintentionally leaning so far forward that his nose bumps against the wrist of the hand Jimin uses to play with Namjoon.
He feels like he’s going insane with want. The fabric of his bottoms are tight against his boner and he feels so uncomfortable. He knows he’s leaking, staining the grey material of his boxers and he knows Namjoon is leaking too, can see the drops of precum falling on the bed sheets directly underneath where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.
Jungkook is about to ask again, not above begging, especially not now but he sees Jimin’s hand stop it’s movements. Jimin taps a finger against the handle once, twice before finally deciding to pull it out completely, the object so slick and wet with lube that it slides out without any assistance. Namjoon whines at the loss. With his hands still spreading him wide open, Jungkook sees the way his hole clenches once empty, already desperate to be filled again.
“Go ahead, baby.” Jimin’s voice washes over both of the larger men, making them tremble. “Give hyung what he deserves.”
That’s what he needed to hear.
Without another moment’s thought, Jungkook wraps an arm about Namjoon’s waist and flips him over onto his back, ignoring the squeal the older man makes as he does so. He wants to see him, wants to see how prettily he’ll blush when he fucks him, when he splits him apart on his cock. When Namjoon gets over his initial shock, he lends a helping hand by hastily pulling off his bottoms and throwing them onto the bedroom floor.
“Beautiful…” Jungkook murmurs as he runs his hands over the material of Namjoon’s pyjama top, feeling the softness of it against the palm of his hands. He is taken by the juxtaposition of his edgy hand tattoos against the innocent purple shade of the outfit. He groans before bunching up the material and pushing it all up to rest at the base of Namjoon’s neck, exposing the bare skin of his torso and the puffy brown of his hardened nipples.
“Put it in his mouth,” Jimin orders, his voice coming from somewhere at the right hand side of the room. “Use it to keep him quiet.”
Obeying, Jungkook pulls the material even more until it hovers just about Namjoon’s mouth. Namjoon is quick to part his lips and stick out his tongue, allowing Jungkook to drop the folded hem into his mouth before tapping his chin, instructing him to close it again. Gagged. His pretty hyung is gagged with his pretty pyjama top and Jungkook swears he’s going to cum at the sight of it.
Bringing his hands to the drawstrings of his tracksuit bottoms, Jungkook undoes the knot with fumbling fingers before tugging both his trousers and his boxers down his thighs. He kicks about, clumsily removing the articles of clothing as Namjoon looks up at him, mouth still stuffed full, eyes wide and misty with arousal.
He feels an object hit against his thigh, looking down to see a small bottle of lube sitting on the bed beside him. He guesses Jimin tossed it at him. They’ve been dating for a while, been fucking each other for longer, and Jungkook knows that Jimin likes it wet and messy, likes it when the sounds that fill the room are just shy from being gross. Because Jimin likes it, Jungkook likes it too, and because they both like it, Namjoon does too.
Popping the cap open, Jungkook drizzles the cool liquid onto his length, pumping himself a couple times but stopping abruptly, knowing that if he continues he’ll be cumming before even entering his hyung.
Shuffling forward, he wastes no more time and pushes into Namjoon. He knows the man has already prepared himself but he still enters slowly, partially not to hurt Namjoon but mostly not to overwhelm himself. Fuck. Fuck. Namjoon’s so warm… so wet… he’s going to cum so fucking fast.
Namjoon tries to whimper something but the cloth concealing his voice muffles him completely. Rather than giving up, he tries again, whining helpless around the material.
“Fuck him, Jungkook. Come on,” Jimin demands, voice cold and authoritative. That’s when Jungkook hears it, the wet squelches and the barely audible grunt that comes from his right. That’s the other thing that Jimin likes to do… he likes to watch.
Egged on by the sounds of his other hyung touching himself, Jungkook pulls out only to then snap his hips forward with force great enough that it makes the bed squeak. Namjoon makes another muffled noise at the feeling and Jungkook drags his cock out slowly only to then do it again, fucking into his boyfriend slow and rough.
“Faster.”
“B-but--” Jungkook’s movements falter “-- I’ll cum first if I--”
“I said faster, Jungkook,” Jimin repeats himself with a growl, his voice clipped, leaving no room whatsoever for argument.
Fuck, okay. Okay. Jungkook takes in a shaky breath before thrusting into Namjoon again, dragging out before pushing forward a second time. He watches the way his hyung’s neglected cock bounces with each movement, hitting against his stomach and his upper thigh and before he knows it he’s fucking into Namjoon with so much speed that it all feels like one continuous movement.
It’s messy, so fucking messy that he can feel the lube against his upper thighs, the substance now warm against his bare skin. Namjoon feels so hot and tight around him, hugging his cock so perfectly as he drives into him over and over again.
The gag has failed, the purple fabric having fallen from Namjoon’s mouth a while ago as his tongue now hangs out of his mouth, wetting his chin with drool as he takes Jungkook’s thrusts, his whimpers and whines working as little thank yous.
Jungkook isn’t too quiet, himself. He feels his climax building in his lower abdomen and he shakes with the feeling, his own mouth dropping open to let out sounds of pleasure. Namjoon feels so… he just feels…
“So good…” they hear over the sound of their pathetic, desperate moaning. “You’re both so fucking good,” Jimin mumbles, his own voice cracking a little bit at the end of his sentence, exposing him for being just as affected as the other two are.
Hooking a hand under Namjoon’s right knee, Jungkook bends the leg up in order to change his angle. Namjoon’s flexible now, bendy as a result of his new obsession with pilates, and Jungkook loves to move him how he pleases, loves to see what positions he can hold, loves to experiment with him when Jimin allows it.
He pushes Namjoon’s leg up until his knee is just shy of brushing against his shoulder, and then he begins fucking into him even faster, rougher, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls and ricocheting right back into his ears.
“Fuck!” Jungkook grunts, his fingernails digging deep into Namjoon’s plump flesh. “I’m going t--”
“Cum inside him,” Jimin encourages with a breathy sigh. “Fuck him full of cum for me.”
He does. He arches his back, ducking forward with the force of it as he climaxes. Spurt after spurt of cum joins his cock as it continues to fuck into Namjoon, Jungkook’s movements carrying himself through his own orgasm.
His hips aren’t thrusting anymore, they swivel, the subtler movement rubs his cock against Namjoon’s walls as he fucks his cum deeper into the man. He leans so far forward that his forehead hits against Namjoon’s and it’s from this distance that Jungkook can hear his voice, his little mumbles that he previously thought were strings of gibberish.
“Thank you… thank you…” Namjoon moans, chest heaving with each and every breath. Jungkook wants to reply, say something back, wants to kiss him on his lips to shut him up but the oversensitivity kicks in before he’s able to.
He shudders and goes mute but not motionless, hips still swiveling helplessly as he tries to bring Namjoon to an orgasm.
It’s too much, too fucking much and Jungkook starts shaking because of it but even then he doesn’t stop. He knows he’s not allowed to. He knows Jimin will be disappointed if he doesn’t make Namjoon cum. Removing one hand from where it’s planted on the mattress, Jungkook wraps his fingers around Namjoon’s cock and begins to jerk him off. He brings his thumb up, rubs it against the slit, collects the precum there and smears it down his hyung’s left.
Namjoon starts babbling again, made dumb by the slightly dry drag of Jungkook’s hand on his cock and the feeling of Jungkook’s tip brushing against his prostate over and over again.
“Shit. Shit. Sh--” Namjoon thrashes his head against the pillows, blonde hair probably getting tangled because of the aggressiveness of it.
He doesn’t warn them that he’s cumming---he couldn’t even if he wanted to because he chokes up on his moan. His eyes are wet, gravity dragging one tear down his left cheek and although Jungkook is oversensitive, he fucks him through it, keeps on moving his hips and dragging his aching cock inside Namjoon.
And it’s the clenching, the tight hold that Namjoon’s hole has on Jungkook as he climaxes that brings the younger boy to cum a second time, tears streaming down his own face, mixing in with his sweat as he whimpers. It’s too much. It’s too much and he loves every second of it.
“Come here. Fuc-- come here .” Jimin doesn’t give them time to rest, already ordering them up and off the bed. They both move before they even know where Jimin is calling them to, long limbs heavy and clumsy as they pull themselves off the bed.
It takes a couple seconds for Namjoon and Jungkook to notice Jimin, to notice his small frame seated on top of Namjoon’s desk, legs spread impossibly wide as he fists his cock with fast movements. Staring at him, they admire his naked lower half, the way his thighs clench and unclench as he swivels his hips upwards, thrusting into his lubed fist. The smaller man worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he brings himself to the very edge of his climax.
“I--I--” Before he can finish his stuttered sentence, Namjoon and Jungkook have made their way to kneel between his thighs, faces angled upwards and mouths hanging up. He looks down at them, at their flushed cheeks, wide eyes and saliva slicked lips, and then he trembles, his climax ripping through him so harshly that it startles him.
His cum falls all over the two of them, missing their mouths and instead painting their chins and cheeks, some getting into Jungkook’s hair, a substantial amount dropping down onto Namjoon’s pyjama top. Filthy. The image is so fucking filthy and Jimin uses it as he continues to jerk himself through his orgasm.
When he grows sensitive, he removes his hand from his cock, his legs shaking and his mouth wide as he struggles to bring air into his lungs.
He looks down at his boyfriends, the two loves of his life as they kneel before him, stained with his release, and smiles, lips pulling into a soft expression.
“Pretty,” he acknowledges, his eyes squinting closed because of his adoration.
Namjoon and Jungkook are quick to smile at him. “Thank you,” they whisper back in unison.