At the age of 14 Jungkook was convinced that he had found his first love, and within a year, his heart was entirely broken.
His man of dreams wrote the most beautiful words, enough to make Jungkook tear up, to yearn over every night and try to replicate in his schoolbooks by memory.
(In reality, he read really good frerard fanfiction by someone who turned out to be really hot).
The boy had a bleached fringe and a lip ring, sometimes even posted selfies wearing eyeliner. He wrote sad music which probably wasn’t actually very good, but at the time Jungkook thought it was on par with anything my chemical romance could do. He had even gone to an mcr concert in Japan, told Jungkook all about it so casually, as if it wasn’t the single most amazing thing that someone could experience in their lifetime.
He also happened to be 17, meaning that poor little Jungkook was nothing more than a child to him. A child who wrote book length comments on everything he wrote and retweeted all of his selfies, pathetic and obsessed. Jungkook wanted him so badly, it was all consuming.
The love of Jungkook’s life went by the name of Joon, and Jungkook was lucky enough to be his friend for a while. If talking on twitter once a day counted as friendship. He was far better at English than Jungkook, had loads of American friends on twitter, would kindly help Jungkook out when he didn’t understand words. Jungkook was always so amazed by his vocabulary, it seemed more extensive than his own ability to speak Korean.
Joon made Jungkook fully aware and very sure of his own sexuality. Not only was he the most perfect human, everything Jungkook could ever desire, but he also wrote graphic gay erotica. Jungkook thought he was a literal sex god, would sit and blush over his writing, discovered a whole lot about himself from it.
He also happened to be the first person Jungkook came out to. Joon would put up with him complaining about how hard his life was, how no one his age liked the same music as him. His parents wouldn’t even let him dye his hair or get more than the two ear piercings, which he ended up giving himself thanks to Joon’s encouragement. It’ll only take a second, you’re so brave, Kook!
Looking back on it throughout his teenage years, Jungkook would think that Joon might not have even been real. He was very likely a catfish, photos taken from someone’s old myspace. There is no way that someone so attractive would have written so well and paid attention to Jungkook on occasion. Or maybe 14 year old Jungkook just perceived a teenage emo and fanfiction as something far more than it was.
Jungkook was a dramatic teenager. He would write sad lyrics in his schoolbooks and complain about being born too late, missing when emo was cool, unlike lucky Joon. Joon would laugh at his jealousy, tell him that emo had definitely never been cool, who cares, be yourself.
It felt like Joon was worlds away, the four-hour train ride from Busan to Ilsan was something that Jungkook fixated upon regularly, wishing he could just go and meet him.
After months of Jungkook’s pining, just after his fifteenth birthday, he was abandoned.
Joon was about to turn eighteen, always bringing up that he was too old to be Jungkook’s friend. “Frerard have a bigger age gap,” “shut up, Kook.” He had been absent from social media due to studying, set on getting into a good university. Jungkook hated that, thought that University was dumb. One painful day he got a message explaining that Joon had to stop wasting his time on the internet and writing stupid stuff, announcing that he was entirely abandoning twitter and livejournal, cutting himself off from any fandom, and therefore Jungkook, too.
Jungkook had cried, mourned, drew borderline creepy portraits of Joon and then ripped them up, pierced his ears more, earned a lot of disappointment from his parents. He wept to my chemical romance daily, listening to caraphernelia by pierce the veil or I miss you by blink-182 still brings back weird memories. His last unread message to Joon was in 2013, the day that my chemical romance broke up.
guess we won’t get to see them together like u promised, huh?
Shockingly, the pain of heartbreak from an unrequited love for someone he had never met did eventually lessen. Jungkook made it through high school with minimal effort, but dedicated himself art class. His disdain for university actually worked out for him, somehow ending up landing a tattoo internship in Seoul.
Now he can get tattoos and piercings as he pleases, happily staying in his emo phase at the age of 22, can even get any train he wants. (If it’s cheap).
Taehyung dragged he and Jimin to Ilsan for a day to visit a park when the three first moved in together, it was the first time Jungkook had thought about Joon in years. He used to get sent photos of the greenhouse, would think about holding hands there. Whilst hearing his friends point out how phallic every cactus was, he wondered if Joon still lived there. He likely went to an impressive university in Seoul, ended up with some boring office job, regrets his stupid piercings.
Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off comes on in the studio he works at sometimes, brings back a distinct fading memory of seeing a pretty little goth boy who would appear in too many of Joon’s photos. He wore red eyeshadow, Joon probably wrote songs for him, Jungkook was Nothing.
He really doesn’t think about Joon much now. Not at all, he’s not even sure if he remembers what he looked like. It has been seven years.
There’s a specific tone of Jimin’s voice which triggers Jungkook’s fight or flight response.
Working in a tattoo studio is hard when you have a slight fear of hot guys, and from the sound of their receptionist, Jungkook is in for a painful few hours. The customer has booked in for a tattoo of his own bonsai, which is far too cute. The way he talked over email was memorably sweet, giving Jungkook as much creative freedom as he wanted, always thanking him, more polite than most clients.
It’s early, first appointment of the day, autumn sun shining through the big windows. Jungkook ensures that all of his supplies are ready, that his sweater isn’t inside out or something stupid, unties his hair, and makes his way down the stairs to greet the client.
The first thing he notices in the reception room is Jimin in full flirt mode, he was right to be scared. His attention is quickly stolen. Tall, big, notable thighs restrained in grey sweatpants, getting help removing his coat by the oh so lovely receptionist. He has a blonde buzzcut and lots of earrings, looks towards Jungkook with pretty eyes and oh god dimples.
Jungkook stops, almost trips on nothing, keeps walking as if it were intentional.
The man looks really familiar, pretty enough to be a celebrity. Jungkook wonders if he thirst-followed him on Instagram, but he’s sure that he’d remember such a face.
“This is Namjoon!”
Jungkook tries to get his brain into professional mode, wiping his hand on his cargo pants for an awkward handshake. “I’m Jungkook, your bonsai is really cute. I’m excited.”
Namjoon grins, Jungkook is relieved.
They make their way over to Jungkook’s workstation while Jimin makes them coffee. Namjoon lets out a quiet yell of excitement when he sees the tattoo stencil and it’s so cute that Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Things go downhill when Namjoon removes his plaid shirt. He’s just wearing a tank top underneath; the tattoo is going on his upper arm, this is appropriate. However, his arms make Jungkook feel like he’s looking at something indecent. They’re big, bigger than Jungkook’s even though he goes to the gym almost every damn day. Another problem is that he has a lot of tattoos, all botanical and oh so pretty. All of Jungkook’s own tattoos are black and red, they’d be a nice contrast together.
Namjoon is really hot. Even his chest is hard not to stare at. Jungkook gulps, looks around for Jimin, who has zeroed in on the exposed skin as he makes his way back. “Want me to hang that up for you?” He’s actually doing his job for once.
“Oh, it’s fine! I’ll cling onto it when I’m in pain.”
“Jungkook has a bunny plushie upstairs, want me to get it for you?” Jimin asks, ruffling Jungkook’s hair, so good at faking concern when his intentions are cruel. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, smiles through the pain.
“That’s really cute, I’ll live though, thanks.”
Putting on the stencil is a test to Jungkook’s professionalism. He feels really shameful having horny thoughts about a customer, but also, he’s literally lubricating a beautiful man’s thick arm. He manages to stop his gross little mind when Namjoon gets all excited over the tattoo again, even when he starts tattooing and Namjoon tenses.
Another problem about Jungkook’s field of work is that he really sucks at small talk. He’s lucky to work with Jimin and Taehyung, usually they take care of the social part while he focuses on tattooing, but he actually wants to talk to Namjoon. After a while of silence, Jungkook clears his throat, ready to make some riveting conversation, when the door slams open. Taehyung enters, immediately putting on music and making his way over to inspect what Jungkook is doing.
The first few notes of a my chemical romance song will never fail to make Jungkook tense, memories of his obsessive, shameful teenage years flooding back.
“Can you handle this, Kook?” Taehyung teases, leaning over to look at Namjoon’s arm.
“Fuck off, hyung.” Jungkook straightens his back to wipe the tattoo, Namjoon’s eyebrows are raised, waiting for someone to explain. Jimin never fails to provide.
“Jungkook was a hardcore fan, like weirdly obsessed, tells us not to play their albums because he’ll cry or something.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, makes a mental note to cock block Jimin and Taehyung the next time he has the opportunity. There’s nothing like a past of being a weird little emo stan to lure in beefy men. Not that he wants to lure Namjoon in, anyway.
“Woah! me too, actually. I was definitely worse than you, no shame.” Namjoon says, all surprised and reassuring. Jungkook looks up from his arm, making sure that he’s not joking, gets an eyeful of dimple, looks back down. He has been mostly avoiding looking directly at his face, an annoying habit of his. The teenager in Jungkook is yelling about finding his dream man, he’d probably be even more obsessed with him than he was with—
Wait. Jungkook pauses. Wonders how he could’ve been so stupid.
“I’ll let you two be emo in peace.” Jimin’s wink is audible. Jungkook receives a pat on his head as his work mates walk away.
He kind of feels like he’s about to die. He needs to look back up to make sure, keeps focusing on the tattoo instead. It can’t be him. He looks so different, but Jungkook should’ve known from his dimples, his pretty eyes, his effect his fragile heart. The buzzing of the machine sounds like it’s getting louder, maybe Jungkook’s brain is just shutting down.
After a few moments he wipes the tattoo again, finally giving himself a good look at Namjoon’s face. It’s like he’s fourteen again, pining and obsessive and oh so in love. He’s staring. Namjoon notices.
“There’s no way you were worse.” Jungkook starts to speak, tries to sound casual, as if he isn’t losing his mind in that moment. “I used to read stuff on livejournal.” Namjoon’s eyes widen. “I think I, uh—remember you?”
Namjoon stares. Jungkook has stopped tattooing, will hate himself later for being so unprofessional, but he’s pretty distracted right now. He manages to make eye contact, wishes he knew what Namjoon was thinking, wishes he would say something.
“Holy shit. Jungkook. Jungkookie?” Jungkook almost chokes at the sound of his name being said like that. “What the fuck, you’re so—big? What happened?” Namjoon starts laughing. Jungkook starts to breathe again, goes back to tattooing.
“You actually remember me?” He’s thankful to have a reason to avoid eye contact while he asks that.
“Of course, you were adorable. Good to know that your emo phase never ended, just like you always said.”
Jungkook is blushing, oh god, he feels like a teenager. Adorable. He always hated that word.
The song has ended but it seems that one of his wonderful workmates felt the need to put on the entirety of three cheers for sweet revenge.
“You’re really tattooing me to my chemical romance, who would’ve thought.” Namjoon’s words make Jungkook snort. “I’ll stop distracting you now, but do you want to hang out sometime? Catch up?”
The shock of the question hinders his ability to think. “Oh? Am I not too young?” Jungkook immediately regrets his words, intending to avoid reminding Namjoon of his crush, but Namjoon just laughs.
Jungkook makes it through the tattoo without any extreme mishaps, somehow. After Namjoon has left, arm wrapped in clingfilm and oh so thankful, Jungkook lies face down on their couch upstairs and attempts to recover. Oh god, Joon is still perfect, his bicep is ingrained into Jungkook’s brain forever. He is fucked.
Namjoon texts him that night asking to meet up at his favourite café the following Thursday. They follow each other on Instagram, and Jungkook definitely looks through his photos for a bit too long. He even sees the pretty friend Namjoon had back in the day, who looks almost exactly the same as he did in 2012.
There’s a possibility that he feels some jealousy return, needs to remind himself that he doesn’t even know Namjoon, they just met.
Jungkook has some time to emotionally prepare himself for seeing Namjoon again. Not just seeing him, intentionally spending time together, one on one. He spends a lot of these days filled with horny dread.
Thursday happens to be Halloween. Jungkook has always loved Halloween, unsurprisingly as an emo teenager, always sad that Korea didn’t go as hard as America for it. He now has a tradition of making his roommates watch horror movies with him, because he’s an adult.
Jungkook has to be dragged out of bed and away from his high school emo playlist when the day comes. His makeup is done by Jimin while Taehyung removes every baggy sweater from his bedroom. “He needs to see your pretty little waist, I guarantee you’ll get railed in the bathroom.” Taehyung says, Jimin nodding along as if that sentence were an acceptable thing to say.
“We’re going to a café to catch up, and I’m too small, don’t wanna look like a teenager.” Jungkook catches himself pouting in the mirror.
“Jungkook, you’re literally the twink of dreams. Embrace it, you’re hot.” Jimin’s words are even more poetic than his boyfriend’s, Jungkook is so lucky.
He somehow ends up in one of Jimin’s silky shirts despite being far larger than him, tucked in at Taehyung’s request, and a leather Jacket to feel slightly less exposed. At least his chunky boots are deemed good enough by his loving roommates. He’s definitely overdressed for a platonic café visit, but hopefully he’ll get railed in the bathroom.
Jungkook listens to mcr on the subway to the café. He thinks about how he used to feel about Namjoon, how infatuated he was, can’t believe that he actually wants to spend time together now. Jungkook doesn’t think he’s changed much since they knew each other, but now he’s just an awkward 22 year old with too many piercings and a pretty cool job, surely slightly less pathetic than before.
Namjoon’s favourite café is on the top floor, overlooking Seoul forest. Jungkook has to stop for a moment once he’s inside. There are plants everywhere, the windows span an entire wall and it’s so orange outside. Jungkook wants to live here. Namjoon is sitting on a stool by the window, Jungkook’s thoughts about how soft he looks against such a pretty backdrop are interrupted when he stands up to greet him.
He thought that sweatpants were overwhelming before, but now Namjoon is wearing skinny jeans. Jungkook has to consciously stop himself from saying anything thigh related. He opts to gesture towards the window and say wow.
Namjoon smiles, pats his shoulder awkwardly. “I’m glad you like it. Let hyung buy you coffee?” Jungkook doesn’t even blush until they’re making their way over to order. “Do you still love Halloween? They have cute drinks, made me think of you.”
“Of course.” Jungkook feels like he’s going to vibrate. Namjoon remembered such a random thing, he’s so kind.
They both go for far too sweet and concerningly coloured drinks. Namjoon’s lips get stained green, it’s pretty gross, Jungkook still wants to kiss him. They talk about mundane things, Namjoon is so excited about Jungkook’s career, it’s hard to get him to talk about himself instead. He’s a fucking songwriter, he’s so cool, it’s his actual job.
Spending time alone with a new person is one of Jungkook’s least favourite activities, he actively avoids it at all costs, but Namjoon seems to have a talent for making people comfortable. He’s only filled with dread when they make eye contact for too long, or if he focuses on how hot Namjoon is. He gets told a lot about Namjoon’s favourite books, his best friends, even shown photos of his family dog which he pretends not to remember seeing on twitter 8 years ago.
The generous arm tattoo tour Namjoon gives is a test to Jungkook’s sanity. They’re so pretty, he’s so big, he has Jungkook’s art on him forever. When Jungkook takes off his jacket to show his in return, Namjoon pauses mid sip, eyes wide, swearing. “Holy shit!”
Jimin’s stupid slutty shirt seems a lot less stupid when Namjoon’s eyes linger on his waist. He gets his arms touched so gently and it feels like a lot more than it is, mind definitely in the region of bathroom railing.
“Jungkook, I’m really sorry about how shitty I was when I was a teenager, you didn’t deserve that.” Namjoon starts to speak out of nowhere, so soft. Jungkook freezes.
“Oh—it’s fine, hyung. I was too young, it was weird, I understand!” He stutters out, tries his best to sound entirely blasé, as if his heart wasn’t broken. It has been seven years, he’s over it.
“I still should’ve been there for you, we were friends, that must’ve sucked.” Oh no, he’s so sweet, Jungkook is fucked. “I was being pressured about university and I was scared that you might’ve, uh. Had a crush on me? I handled it badly, I was terrible.” Namjoon laughs, Jungkook wants to die. “I’m glad I found you again.”
“Ah, me too.” Jungkook responds, underwhelming as ever. Namjoon looks like he expects him to say more, but he intentionally avoids addressing the crush part.
When they finish their drinks Jungkook wishes he had the bravery to find a way to keep spending time together. It turns out that Namjoon might even feel the same. “I really want hotteok, will you get some with me?” He asks, and Jungkook doesn’t even try to hold back a smile when he says yes.
They go outside to find a stall. It’s getting colder, he regrets his clothing choice, but at least Jimin said he looks hot. He thinks about Namjoon giving him his big sweater, because he is pathetic. They make their way to the park, food warming their hands. Namjoon seems happily focused on the trees they pass, Jungkook gains some courage.
“I thought you were the coolest person in the world, to be honest. It was too much, I was so obsessed with your writing.” Jungkook shouldn’t remind Namjoon of his crush, of how pathetic he was, but he’s so sweet it’s hard to hold back.
“My writing.” Namjoon winces. “I can’t believe that was a thing I did, and I can’t believe you’ve read it. I’m not even gonna think about how old you were, what the fuck.”
“You were a teenager too, hyung, don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was life changing literature.” Namjoon is hiding his face now, Jungkook attempts to lessen his embarrassment. “Literally life changing. Do you want to know something funny?” Namjoon grunts to say yes. “You made me aware of my sexuality.” Jungkook laughs as he says it, intending to be casual, definitely failing. His brain is screaming shut up shut up shut up.
Namjoon stops walking. Jungkook regrets.
“Please don’t make me say it again.” It’s Jungkook’s turn to cover his face.
“That… is horrific. I’m so sorry, oh my god. From what I wrote?”
“Uh—no. You might’ve been right about the crush thing.” Jungkook manages to say, starts to walk again. Namjoon catches up.
“That makes how I treated you even worse.” He sounds so apologetic, Jungkook aches, wishing he would just make fun of him instead.
“You did the right thing, hyung. I got over it.”
“At least you can get your revenge now.” Namjoon chuckles. Jungkook is confused.
“By… murdering you in a forest?”
“What?” Namjoon keeps laughing and Jungkook feels dumb, the usual. “I mean, you turned out really cool, guess it’s my turn to pine.” He’s admiring a mostly dead hydrangea when he says it, like he didn’t just imply—what the fuck did he imply?
Jungkook pauses. They’ve reached a pond, the sun is about to set and there’s no one around, so quiet for Seoul. Maybe Namjoon will be doing the murdering. Teenage Jungkook would probably appreciate that. “Pine?” He squeaks out.
For some reason, Namjoon looks up. “Yes? Are you a fan of trees?”
Jungkook follows Namjoon’s gaze to the pine tree above them. Stares. Tries not to lose it.
“Oh my god.” Jungkook laughs, ending up face planting onto Namjoon’s shoulder. Their inability to have a coherent conversation apparently provides Jungkook with the confidence to initiate physical contact. He doesn’t even realise what he’s doing, too busy wheezing, until a hand is at the back of his head. He’s being petted.
He’s almost, kind of cuddling Namjoon. Namjoon is almost, kind of reciprocating.
Namjoon’s hand stays at the back of his head when he pulls back, wiping tears from his eyes. It slides down to his neck, playing with the long strands of hair. Jungkook has a sudden urge to throw himself into the pond. He should probably elaborate on his laughing fit, but Namjoon is just smiling fondly at him, eyebrows raised.
“You said it’s your turn to pine. I’m definitely misunderstanding, please elaborate.” Jungkook’s voice sounds as fragile as he feels. He keeps shivering at the feeling of Namjoon’s hand on his neck, which still hasn’t left, what the fuck is going on. He realises that his mouth is kind of open in shock, promptly shutting it, which is probably why Namjoon is still smiling. Dimples.
Namjoon looks around, his other hand reaches out and brushes against Jungkook’s. It pulls him a bit closer, doesn’t let go. They’re really close. Jungkook is going to die. He hasn’t appreciated his lips enough before, they’re so pretty. “Is this okay?” Namjoon asks, all soft and quiet. Jungkook nods, over enthusiastic, unsure if this is really happening. Namjoon’s dimples peek out again and he leans down.
The kiss is over before Jungkook can respond. He didn’t even get a chance to close his eyes, yet it feels like he was just pushed up against a tree and ravished. Namjoon looks around again while Jungkook stares in shock. Namjoon, Joon, kissed him. Cool. Jungkook breathes, comes to terms with what just happened, and grips onto his shoulders.
The surprised noise Namjoon makes when he gets tugged in for another kiss makes Jungkook snort into his mouth. The kiss is just as short as the first one, entirely innocent, but at least Jungkook was prepared. Namjoon’s lips are cold. This is officially all he wants to do forever. Namjoon pulls back and Jungkook definitely doesn’t whine in frustration.
“Uh. We’re in a park.” Namjoon clears his throat, ears red. “Do you want to go to my apartment? Is that weird?”
“No! Not weird, let’s go.” Jungkook sets off, still clutching Namjoon’s hand, dragging him towards the path.
“Wrong way.” Namjoon manoeuvres him into the opposite direction by the shoulders, giving one more kiss on the side of his mouth before they’re near any people again. Jungkook’s ears are burning, his head feels fuzzy, and he somehow has to make it through a however long train journey without clutching onto Namjoon or passing out.
By the time they reach the subway station it’s rush hour. The train is cramped and Jungkook ends up squeezed in a corner, facing Namjoon. He might end up suffocating in his chest if anyone else gets on, which actually sounds like a pretty good way to go. He is definitely thinking about Namjoon’s boobs.
These thoughts are interrupted when Namjoon leans in and whispers in his ear. “My eyes are up here.” Jungkook proceeds to hide his face against said boobs.
Namjoon’s apartment is filled with plants, like his favourite café, like his tattoos. Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to appreciate this before he’s pressed up against the front door and kissed again. He’s ready to fall to his knees before he even tastes Namjoon’s tongue, but someone loudly clears their throat.
Namjoon jumps, looking over his shoulder, keeping his hands planted on the door above Jungkook’s shoulders. The position is overwhelming, and he should probably move before Jungkook ends up with a very premature boner. A small, pretty man with black hair and a huge hoodie stands in the kitchen, his legs are bare and pale and it’s hard not to stare. It’s the guy from Namjoon’s Instagram, and his old twitter.
“I’m just making tea, carry on.”
Namjoon groans, pressing his forehead against the door next to Jungkook’s head. “I thought you were at the studio, hyung?”
“Should I go?” Namjoon’s hyung asks, looking amused. Jungkook hides his face against Namjoon’s shoulder, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the proximity of their crotches at this moment. They’ve barely kissed. Namjoon is so close. Jungkook wants to rut against him, he hates himself.
“No! We just met, just gonna hang out, it’s fine.” Just gonna hang out. Jungkook is now glaring against Namjoon’s shoulder. “Jungkook, this is Yoongi, my roommate.” Jungkook lifts his head, looks over. Yoongi waves, Jungkook nods politely, definitely blushing, still sad about the news that he isn’t actually about to get railed. At least they kissed, he can be patient, will court Namjoon for as long as he needs. Yoongi shuffles off with his tea, entering a room and closing the door. Namjoon groans in embarrassment. “I understand if you want to leave.” Ouch.
“Do you not want to hang out?” Jungkook tries his best not to look disappointed.
Namjoon holds his hand, tugging him towards the door next to the one Yoongi entered. “C’mon.” His bedroom is cute, slightly cluttered, even more plants, he shuts the door and switches on a lamp. The bedsheets have trees on them and look like they’re from urban outfitters, which is endearing.
“Uh. He shouldn’t go?” Jungkook is aware that he sounds like a shallow, horny piece of shit, which might be exactly what he is. He’s wanted this since he was a teenager, Namjoon is his literal wet dream, they can get to know each other later.
Jungkook leans against Namjoon’s door, looking up at him, in hopes that it’ll give him the urge to continue what they were doing before. “I can be quiet.”
Namjoon raises his eyebrows.
“Don’t you want to wait and like—date?”
Jungkook makes the decision to have no shame. He’s been waiting long enough, might as well make Jimin proud. He takes a step forward, plays with Namjoon’s sleeve. “I’ve been waiting for eight years.” He pouts. Namjoon looks distressed.
“Don’t say that!” Jungkook pouts harder, Namjoon sighs, looks at the door. “I do hear him getting fucked all the time, I guess he’d deserve it.”
He cups Jungkook’s face as soon as he’s finished speaking, kissing him much harder than before, pressed up against yet another door. Namjoon is so big, Jungkook feels like he might melt. Or come in his pants.
It’s sweet but hungry, not long before he braves licking at Namjoon’s lips, entirely impatient. Namjoon makes a surprised noise, pulling back a bit, trying to slow down. Jungkook takes this as an opportunity to tug off their jackets, which he struggles with, and apparently this is amusing. Namjoon’s sweater gets removed, but Jungkook is stopped when he goes for the hem of his shirt.
His wrists are pinned to the door and yep, he’s hard.
“You’re in a hurry.” Namjoon teases, giving him a chaste kiss. Jungkook is ready to complain, but there’s another kiss, more trailing down to his jaw, his neck. It goes from innocent to not so much, and then he’s entirely content. As soon as he feels a tongue against his neck, Jungkook’s hips move at their own accord. Namjoon groans at the contact, which Jungkook feels against his skin.
It’s too much when he catches sight of Namjoon’s tattooed biceps flexing to keep his wrists in place. Jungkook properly grinds forward, wanting to feel him through their clothes. “Hyu—ung” He whines, trying to dislodge his arms, feels teeth grazing his neck.
“At least let me take my clothes off, what the fuck.”
Namjoon smiles against his skin, letting go of his wrists and taking a step back, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook huffs, untucking his shirt, undoing the buttons while holding eye contact. It’ll be hard to forget satisfaction he feels when the clothing falls off of his shoulders.
Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of his nipple piercings, focusing on them, then his gaze slowly drags downwards, visibly gulping. “Oh fuck.” He chokes out, Jungkook feels triumphant. “Can I touch?”
Before responding, he pushes Namjoon back, walking him towards the end of his bed until he sits there. Jungkook quickly unbuttons his own jeans, tugging them off and climbing into Namjoon’s lap as he answers. “Please do.” Namjoon’s jaw is clenched and it’s a sight to behold.
His new tattoo is just past the gross phase of healing, no longer crusty but still sensitive. It looks so pretty against his tanned skin. Jungkook’s art. He looks around the room, trying to catch sight of the actual bonsai. He doesn’t succeed, jolting when he feels his piercing being touched, a gentle brush. Namjoon looks pleased by the reaction. “Too much?”
Namjoon kisses him again and he quickly stops complaining, licking into his mouth. One big hand runs soothingly up and down his bare back, the other grabbing his thigh. Because of this, it’s not long before Jungkook is squirming in his lap, inching his hips forward until he can feel Namjoon through his jeans. Namjoon is hard.
They both pant. The contrast in their states of undress somehow makes things even hotter, but Jungkook needs to see Namjoon’s naked body before he passes out from the feeling of his clothed dick. He is determined.
It’s distracting when Namjoon grabs his ass, encouraging a sweet little grind. Jungkook eventually manages to slide his hands under his shirt, detaching their lips long enough to tug it off. Namjoon tries to keep kissing but Jungkook has to stop. Take a moment to stare. Namjoon’s chest is—
“You’re the one with the piercings. Why are you staring?” Namjoon asks. Jungkook doesn’t even try to stop himself, just reaches out and gropes. There’s an annoyed groan, he ignores it. His worship is interrupted by a sudden slap on his ass. He yelps, hopes that Namjoon doesn’t feel his dick twitch. But maybe it would lead to more slaps, much to think about. “Get on the bed.”
Jungkook obeys, sad to vacate Namjoon’s lap, but scrambling over to sit against the pillows. He has an odd number of cushions, even a koala plushie. It’s so cute that Jungkook scrunches his nose. This made him miss the sight of Namjoon stripping himself of his jeans, which is heart breaking, but now he’s faced with his bare thighs in all of their glory.
There’s a possibility that he drools. A mental note of thigh fucking is made. But also, Namjoon’s dick is straining against his underwear, and Jungkook once again thinks he might die. His mouth is definitely open.
Namjoon is digging through his bedside drawer and Jungkook looks down, evaluating himself sitting cross-legged, when he catches sight of his own crotch. He’s so hard that it’s pathetic, his underwear is soaked through just from kissing. It’s humiliating. He thinks about hiding himself behind a cushion.
Namjoon crawls onto the bed, kneeling in front of him. “What’re you blushing at?” Fingers tilt his chin up, Namjoon looks down and proceeds to tap a finger against the wet patch. “Cute.”
Unsure of how one touch can be so overwhelming, Jungkook jerks and rolls over, hiding his face (and dick) against the bed, groaning in embarrassment. Namjoon laughs, when did he get so cruel? He then cages Jungkook into the bed with his entire body and kisses his neck, making things even worse.
“What do you want, Kook?” He asks between kisses. Jungkook wonders if he can suffocate himself against the pillow.
“Hm? Want me to touch you?” Namjoon sounds condescending and Jungkook can’t help but grind his hips down against the bed, aiming for subtlety, likely failing. He nods against the pillow, now clutching onto it. Namjoon runs his hands down his back, over his ass, down between his thighs, back up to his waistband. “Can I take these off?” Jungkook nods again. “Can you answer me?”
Jungkook’s brain turns off. He makes a stupid noise, hips stuttering. There’s a high chance that he’ll come like this if Namjoon continues speaking, but the friction is quickly stopped by his hips being pulled up. Thankful to have his face hidden, his underwear is slid down oh so slowly. The waistband catches on his dick and he tries to breathe.
“You’re so pretty, shit.” Namjoon curses, spreads him out, brushes a dry thumb between Jungkook’s cheeks, who really can’t handle being teased in any way.
“Please, hyung.” He spreads his legs, too eager.
“Want you to fuck me.” Jungkook mumbles into the pillow, brave enough to wiggle his hips impatiently.
Namjoon inhales loudly. There’s a pause, then the sound of a bottle cap being opened. “You sure?”
“Very. Hurry up—ah.” Jungkook’s complaints are quickly ended by Namjoon complying. The lube is cold, he’s teased briefly, then the finger sinks in gently. He gasps, Namjoon stops pushing, and Jungkook shifts back to encourage him. There’s no pain, he spends too much time fingering himself for that, just the satisfaction of being filled. It’s almost too good.
“Okay?” Namjoon asks, pushing in deeper, up to the last knuckle. Jungkook hums happily. It’s so wet, overwhelming, Namjoon’s finger strokes him inside until he’s writhing, needing more. He gasps when a second pushes in, it feels even better. It’s not long until his fingers are fucking him steadily, then he crooks his fingers and Jungkook’s mind goes blank. “There? Feels good?”
He must’ve reacted without knowing it, how embarrassing. “Uh-huh.”
Jungkook gets up onto his hands and knees, scared that he’ll finish with the friction of the sheets. He promptly collapses back onto the bed when a hand wraps around his sensitive dick, encasing it entirely.
“You’re all wet, cute.” Namjoon is leaning over his back again, speaking right into his ear.
Jungkook tries to push his hand away, but Namjoon just rubs the head and his thighs are shaking, trying to close. “I’ll come.”
“Do you not want to come?” Namjoon moves his knees between Jungkook’s thighs, keeping them open, nudging them apart even more.
“Want to—” Jungkook pauses, panting, gathers his courage. His prostate is still being very much tended to, but at least Namjoon’s hand is hardly moving on his dick. Just a gentle touch, it makes him feel like he’s going to melt. “—get fucked.”
Before he knows it, his hair is getting pulled, head lifted up off of the pillow and turned to the side. Namjoon is right there, taking in the sight of his likely pathetic face before licking into his mouth oh so sweetly. The pain of the hand in his hair is a contrast, and it’s making Jungkook’s cock throb.
In this position, Namjoon’s dick is pressed up against his ass, and he’s really hard. Jungkook pushes back against him, trying to feel it more. This doesn’t last long.
Namjoon flips him over, onto his back, entirely on display. Jungkook feels less exposed when he leans down and licks underneath his lip, doesn’t realise that he had drooled until then. Namjoon was cleaning it up. His cheeks burn.
His embarrassment doesn’t fate as his legs get pushed apart, knees shoved up to his chest. It hits a lot harder being able to see Namjoon looking at him there. He can’t even close his legs, they’re being held open. Both of Namjoon’s hands are sticky against his thighs.
“What was that you asked for?”
Jungkook glares, tired of Namjoon’s teasing and finally in a position where he can do something about it. He reaches forward, palming his dick through his underwear. Namjoon chokes. Jungkook admires his own ability to do this without passing away. Namjoon is hot and hard and fucking big beneath his hand, he needs to get fucked, wishes he were patient enough to get him in his mouth first, but alas.
“Want you inside me, hyung.” He pouts. Namjoon furrows his eyebrows, clenching his jaw again, then he’s leaning away and picking up a condom. Jungkook is really pouting now, gripping his dick harder. “Can we—without? Want to feel you.”
Namjoon stops, opens his mouth to complain, so Jungkook pulls his underwear down to distract him like the brat he is. It shuts both of them up.
He expected it to be big, knew it was big, but now he’s looking at his own next to it and going through some stuff. Everything about Namjoon is big and pretty, he shouldn’t be surprised, but holy shit.
“Don’t say it.” Namjoon removes the clothing entirely, moving his hips in closer to where Jungkook needs them. They’re both naked, so close. “Say if you want me to stop, okay?”
“I’ll die if you stop.” Jungkook finds the lube, finally giving himself the chance to actually touch Namjoon. He’s so focused on it, mind blank.
Namjoon has the audacity to laugh at his words despite having a hand on his dick. Jungkook is mildly annoyed, ready to sulk. “Tell me if you want me to slow down. I’ll do anything you want, okay?”
“You don’t need to worry. I like pain and—stuff.” Jungkook definitely did not mean to say that out loud. They both halt. At least it stopped the laughter.
“Oh? Care to elaborate on that?” Namjoon says after a moment of shock.
“Nuh-uh.” Jungkook uses his legs to pull Namjoon’s hips in, trying to encourage him to get his dick inside, and Namjoon is laughing again. Jungkook huffs. Then there’s a fist in his hair, pulling, and Namjoon’s dick is pushing against his rim.
There is a possibility that Jungkook squeaks. He scrambles at Namjoon’s neck, wishing he had hair to pull back, but at least the buzzcut is soft. He looks up into dark eyes, it’s like a flip has switched. Namjoon is literally always hot, in a cute, giant puppy way, but now he’s on the brink of scary.
Jungkook has never been more turned on in his life.
He tries to look down, wanting to see Namjoon’s dick in all its glory again, but the hand in his hair won’t let up. Namjoon leans down, about to kiss him, but stopping at the last second, looking down at his face as he fills Jungkook up far too slowly. Jungkook tries to meet his lips, but still gets held in place. He growls, annoyed.
Namjoon smiles, giving in and kissing him once, entirely chaste, but pushing in harder. Jungkook chokes, feels him so deep, digs his nails into Namjoon’s neck when he bottoms out. The stretch makes him dizzy.
“Jungkook.” Namjoon’s voice is deeper than before. Jungkook can feel his dick leaking onto his stomach. Wonders if Namjoon’s dick is leaking inside of him. That’s a thought.
“You okay?” He lets go of his hair, stroking it instead and Jungkook can’t help but nuzzle into his hand before nodding.
“Will be when you fuck me.”
Namjoon smiles, kissing him again. He proceeds to pull out almost entirely, pushes back in, hard. Jungkook definitely moans far too loud, his brain chooses to remind him of Yoongi at that moment. He leans in to bite at Namjoon’s shoulder, an attempt to shut himself up. Namjoon seems content with this choice.
“Trying to mark me up?” Namjoon asks, fucking into him again and making him whine with his mouth full. Jungkook can feel him everywhere. “You’re so soft inside, Kook. What the fuck.”
Jungkook is clinging onto Namjoon both inside and out, unable to let go. He wishes he would fuck him harder, go back to the brief roughness from before. “I—ah. I’ve wanted this for so, so long.” Jungkook stutters out and Namjoon looks distressed. “Thought you were like, a sex god.”
That wasn’t what he was going for, but maybe if he keeps saying stupid shit Namjoon will resort to shutting him up.
“Thanks for the pressure, brat. Stop making me laugh.”
Jungkook concludes that Namjoon looks his prettiest when he’s laughing mid sex.
Namjoon rolls his eyes, pushes his thighs up and fucks into him until the force scoots them up the bed. Namjoon has him filled to the brim, pressing everywhere, and now he’s the one sucking marks onto Jungkook. It feels so good, bruises blooming on his collarbones, nails digging into his thighs. Feels like he belongs to Namjoon.
Jungkook looks down. The sight is obscene. His dick is leaking onto his stomach, so hard and neglected. His thighs tremble as he works to control himself, wanting to touch but not wanting to finish too fast. It feels like he’s been on edge since their first kiss, he’s surprised that he has lasted this long. Feels lightheaded, mind all floaty.
Namjoon pushes back up, runs his hands down over Jungkook’s waist. “You’re so small ‘n pretty.” Jungkook is definitely not small. He glares. “Your cock’s pretty, too.”
Jungkook hiccups, covering his eyes. It doesn’t last long, Namjoon quickly pins his wrists to the bed, looking amused. Jungkook whines, tugging his wrists. Namjoon kisses him and it’s too much. “Hyung, hyung—please.” His hips buck, trying to get some sort of friction. He doesn’t think he can come untouched, but there’s a whole new sensation going on. Maybe Namjoon actually is a sex god, Jungkook was right. “I think I’m gonna—ah. Please touch me.”
Namjoon lets go of one wrist, Jungkook immediately scrabbles for purchase on his back, digging his nails and pulling him in as close as possible. Jungkook watches in fear as Namjoon brings a thumb down to the wet tip of his dick, grazing over it for the second time, making him mewl at the oversensitivity. It gets far worse when he lifts his hand back up, licking it clean.
That’s all it takes to push Jungkook over the edge. He tenses, can barely breathe, moans far too loudly, and spills all over his abdomen. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt, feels like it lasts forever. He hears Namjoon swear, rutting into him more urgently and the oversensitivity makes him feel like he could orgasm again.
“Yoongi’s gonna h-hear you.” Namjoon stutters out, but seeing him so desperate just makes it harder for Jungkook to shut up. He wishes he hadn’t been so pathetic during this entire experience, definitely doesn’t usually just get pounded without doing anything in exchange. Before he has time to try to cover his mouth, it gets filled with Namjoon’s fingers, and his ability to think is abruptly ended.
Watching Namjoon coming inside of him is a spiritual experience. His jaw clenches, which has quickly become one of Jungkook’s favourite sights. Jungkook mourns the loss of the fingers from his mouth, spit trailed down his chin. But Namjoon kisses him so hard that he thinks his lips might bruise, fucking into him so hard that he thinks his ass might bruise. He makes the cutest noise and Jungkook hums at the knowledge that he’s being filled up, deep inside. He wants to do this forever.
As he catches his breath in between kisses, Jungkook notices the scar from Namjoon’s old lip piercing, rubs a finger over it. It reminds him that this is really the boy who he thought he was in love with, and he got railed by him. Jungkook mentally pats himself on the back, admiring the marks he’s left all over his chest and shoulders. Mine.
Namjoon is cuddly after sex, which is wonderful news. He’s still inside of Jungkook, kissing at his neck, trying to motivate them to get up and shower, when a phone starts vibrating. “Want me to pass it over?” Namjoon asks. Jungkook doesn’t particularly care who’s contacting him while he’s cockwarming his man of dreams, but he agrees just so he can mute it.
It’s no surprise that the texts are from Jimin and Taehyung. They might be the only people who text him, but when he opens his phone, it gets promptly dropped onto Namjoon’s chest.
He was sent link to a tweet.
A tweet from my chemical romance’s account, announcing a concert in two months.
“What the fuck.”