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“So let me get this straight,” Jimin starts, eyes dropping to the waistband of Jeongguk’s sweatpants for a second before bouncing back to his face. “You want me to look at your dick?”
“Mhm.”
“And tell you if I… like it or not?”
“Yeah, kinda. Your opinion is really valuable, hyung. I-I could ask Taehyung to take a look at it but— well, he’s straight like I am and he doesn’t see dick like you see it, so it’s not really the same, and—“
“Have you got a photo of it? Like, the scar?”
“It’s— the thing is, it’s difficult to see on a picture, like, the camera doesn’t pick it up very well, so. Believe me, hyung, I don’t wanna have to do this, but I’m desperate.”
“And Namjoonie-hyung can’t do it?” Jimin supposes, cocking an eyebrow.
Jeongguk flushes, looking at the man sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Jimin on the bed. Namjoon looks just as surprised, maybe even a little offended.
Which makes sense in some fucked up way; Jeongguk is significantly closer with him than with Jimin. They live in the same dormitory, they see each other every day, Jeongguk has stood in Namjoon’s bedroom a million times before. Jimin only comes here every few weeks to get laid.
But there are two very important reasons why he specifically waited for Jimin to make the four hour train journey to this university. One: should Jimin accept this proposition, it’s going to be the most humiliating experience of his entire life, the gayest thing he will ever do. It’s quite shameful and something that he would rather forget about as soon as it’s over — forgetting about it will be much easier if he doesn’t see the person he’s done this with every single day. And two:
“Ah, don’t take this the wrong way, hyung, but— you see, Namjoon-hyung doesn’t have as much, um, experience as you. So I can’t trust his opinion, because he hasn’t seen as many dicks.”
The two men stare blankly at him, and Jeongguk rocks on his feet nervously, chewing on his bottom lip.
Okay, so it was a weird suggestion to have Jimin take a look at his dick. But there’s a very valid reason behind it, and Jeongguk really doesn’t know what else to do. He’s very aware that, in terms of size, there’s no issue; what he packs down there is big enough to make eyes go wide and jaws drop. But that’s not the problem here. The problem is that there is a scar on his dick that is so grotesque to look at, and Jeongguk literally will not show his dick to a girl — it’s very much the reason he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and Jeongguk really wants to lose his virginity while he’s in college, it would surely be a waste if he didn’t.
So, in other words, the fate of his virginity lies in Jimin’s gay little hands.
“Alright,” Jimin shrugs, leaning back on the heel of his hand. “Get it out, then. Let’s take a look.”
Jeongguk eyes Namjoon suspiciously, and the elder takes the hint, clearing his throat as he stands up from the bed. “I’ll study over here,” he murmurs, walking to the desk in the far corner of the room.
The very thought of Namjoon being in the room is both relieving and harrowing at the same time. Relieving, because it means that he’s not alone with a gay man, showing his dick in quite a sexual way — it would be easy to misunderstand the situation should anyone find out about it, and Namjoon’s presence softens some of the sexual context. Harrowing, because it’s just one more person who is about to witness this horrific moment in his life.
Jimin stares at him, waiting patiently with his eyes fixed on Jeongguk’s crotch already. And it’s already embarrassing enough, this situation is already embarrassing enough, but it’s about to get even worse.
“Hyung,” he whispers, knowing fully well that Namjoon can hear him despite how quiet he is. “The thing is— you can’t see it unless it’s— fuck. You can’t see it unless it’s hard.”
“Okay, so get hard, then,” Jimin replies nonchalantly.
It’s quite astounding how unfazed Jimin seems, like he’s done this a million times before. And Jeongguk supposes that he has — he has seen quite a handful of dicks, so he’s no stranger to them. Hard or soft.
But just because Jimin is experienced doesn’t mean that Jeongguk is any more relaxed. No, he’s very much the opposite of relaxed. It’s starting to daunt on him just how fucked up this actually is.
It’s just a dick, Jeongguk tells himself. It’s just a fucking dick and Jimin has seen plenty, and he’ll see plenty more after he’s seen his. Jeongguk takes a peek at Namjoon over his shoulder, confirming that he is indeed studying and not watching the two of them, and then he lowers his sweatpants just enough that he can pull himself out.
“Ah, you must be quite big when you’re hard,” Jimin chuckles, and he sounds somewhat flustered. When Jeongguk dares himself to raise his head, the elder’s cheeks are a faint rosy color, eyes wider and lips curled into a small smile. Shy smile.
Jeongguk hums. “Just over nine inches,” he mutters.
“Sure, that’s not an exaggeration I’ve heard before,” Jimin laughs, wagging his eyebrows. He doesn’t believe him, but he’ll see for himself soon enough. “I don’t see a scar?”
“You can only see it when it’s hard.”
“Get hard, then.”
There’s a certain tint to his tone, something that makes them more than empty words, and it makes Jeongguk flush. This situation is really quite fucked up. A gay man is staring at his dick, and he’s asking him to get hard. And Jeongguk can’t do it. He cannot do it.
He yanks his sweatpants back up again and takes a step towards the door. “I’m gonna— I’ll do it in my room, okay? And I’ll come back here, like, when it’s hard.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
“Just— just wait there. I’ll be like, five minutes, tops.”
= = =
Nine inches of hard cock rests heavily in his left hand. Jeongguk quite literally couldn’t be any harder than he is right now.
He’s laying on his own bed, laptop open on his chest playing vulgar scenes that never fail to get him hard. His eyes are fixed on the actress’ ass that bounces on someone’s cock, appreciating that the video is shot from their point of view — now it’s easy to pretend that it’s him in that video, and the hand around his cock that pumps in time with her movements is her pussy. He nibbles his lower lip when she moans, forehead scrunching even more, hand moving even faster.
If he’s not careful, he’ll fucking cum at this point. He will cum, and then it will be even harder to get hard again just to show Jimin. And with that in mind, Jeongguk retracts his hand with a frustrated groan, closing his laptop and setting it aside.
It’s not ideal to just stop jerking off when he’s this close to finishing, but Jeongguk doesn’t have a choice. He doesn’t have a choice because he’s been to Namjoon’s room six times already in the space of an hour, and every single time he pulls his sweatpants down, he has a semi-erection at best. Not enough to see the scar.
Namjoon left to study with his friends half an hour ago, and the three of them were under the assumption that his absence would make this a lot easier — maybe it was the anxiety of having another person in the room that was making it impossible to stay hard. But it’s not that which is the problem. It’s simply the thought of showing his dick to another man. Another gay man. A gay man who expressed a vague interest in seeing it.
And it’s not that Jeongguk has anything against gay people — not at all. He actually has no issue with Jimin and Namjoon being gay, he doesn’t see anything wrong with it and what the two of them do in that room together is none of his business, anyway. Jeongguk isn’t a homophobe, he’s just a heterosexual, and part of being a heterosexual is not showing other men his fucking penis.
But his dick is as hard as it’s going to get right now. The head is throbbing lightly, reminding him that he hasn’t cum yet, begging him to continue this now. His balls are starting to feel a little sore from all the erections he’s had in an hour that have ended miserably with no release. Jeongguk sucks in a breath when he climbs off the bed and wraps his hand around the length, jerking it lightly for some feeling of relief. The scar is clearly visible: a thin white line on the underside, a little closer to the right side, that starts at the very base of his cock near his balls and scrawls diagonally towards the tip, stopping about five centimetres up.
And that’s it. That five centimetre thin line that’s caused him to politely reject every single potential hook-up with girls who he would absolutely love to fuck. The furthest he’s ever gotten with girls is getting handsy, and one very cherished handjob in the dark. And not once has he ever wanted to stop those girls as they reached to pull his boxers down — he’s wanted the opposite. After all, he is a guy, and he’s a very horny guy. Which is why he really needs a cock-lover’s opinion on this before he dies from sexual frustration.
He holds himself flat against his stomach — head pushing into his navel — and pulls his sweatpants up in a hurry. Then, he sprints towards the door, pulling his t-shirt over his crotch to hide the obscene shape.
Jeongguk is completely fucking hard. Frankly, he could smack his cock against the desk and he’s fairly sure that it would crack the wood. This is as hard as he’s gotten so far, this is as close as he can edge to an orgasm without blowing a load and ruining everything.
There is absolutely no way in hell that his dick will go soft in the ten second sprint to Namjoon’s bedroom. Even if it’s happened six times already.
His dick is hard, and his mind is replaying that girl’s ass over and over again in his head. And he’s close. He can’t go soft when he’s this fucking close. He can’t go soft when his mind is filled with hot jiggly ass slapping down against his hips.
“Hyung,” he rasps, flying through Namjoon’s door and slamming it shut behind him. “Come here, quick.”
Jimin puts his phone down quickly, sitting up on the bed and watching as Jeongguk tugs his sweatpants down to his knees.
His cock flops down without the waistband holding it against his stomach, and Jeongguk whines in horror at its rapidly shrinking form. Granted; this might be the hardest he’s been in front of Jimin, which should be celebrated. But it’s not enough to see the scar, which is the only reason he’s showing Jimin his dick in the first place.
Jimin blinks, eyeing up the pathetically deflating bag of skin in front of him. This will make the seventh try, the seventh failure, and the seventh time that Jeongguk has shown his dick to another man.
“For fuck sake,” he grits, pulling his sweatpants back up. He flops down next to Jimin and sighs in defeat, blinking up at the ceiling. “Forget it, hyung. I can’t do it.”
He’s never going to get laid, and it’s for the most stupid fucking reason. Jeongguk knows that he’s attractive, because he gets quite a large amount of potential virginity stealers prepositioning him on the weekends. He knows that he’s handsome, he knows that his body is muscular and defined, and maybe ironically enough, he knows that he is extremely well endowed. But none of this really matters because, at the end of the day, the terrifying ordeal of having a girl point out his scar in disgust is enough to keep this dick snugly in its material confinements.
So if he can’t ease his mind with Jimin’s no-homo, platonically homosexual opinion then he’s never going to get laid.
Jimin clasps a supportive hand on his thigh, closer to his knee than anywhere else. “Jeongguk-ah, from what I’ve seen so far, you have a great dick. And it looks big, like, frankly it’s huge even when it’s not hard. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”
“It’s such an ugly scar, hyung. What if I’m with a girl and she’s turned off by it or something?”
“Then dump her and find someone who isn’t an asshole about things that literally should not matter.”
Jeongguk whines. “But what if she was the girl of my dreams?”
The hand on his thigh squeezes him gently. Jeongguk tears his eyes away from Namjoon’s ceiling and blushes when he notices Jimin staring at his crotch. There’s no particular expression that dominates his features right now, so he can’t work out what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s wishing he could see it. Maybe he’s already repulsed by the scar before he’s even seen it.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Jimin asks, pulling his hand away. He meets Jeongguk’s gaze and swallows nervously. “You can say no, of course.”
“What is it?”
“Let me get you hard.”
Jeongguk jerks suddenly, face twisting in horror. “W-what? A-a-and how do— what do you want to— what?”
“You can say no,” Jimin laughs, gently shoving his knee. “It was just a suggestion.”
“Ah, it’s really— it’s just— it— no. No, thank you.”
“Alright. No worries.”
Jeongguk sighs, facing the ceiling again. And he thinks about it some more, scratches his eyebrow while he mulls it over. “What— how would you, um, do it?”
“Well, you asked me to take a look at it because you know I’ve had a lot of experience. Part of that experience is getting men hard, so. I know what I’m doing,” Jimin explains, chuckling.
Jeongguk hums.
“Besides, I’ve done stuff with straight guys before.”
“You— what? You have?” he questions, staring at him with wide eyes.
Jimin nods. “Oh, yeah. You’d be surprised how many curious straight guys come to me to experiment.”
“Well I’m not— I’m not feeling very experimental, hyung.”
“Of course. And that’s fine, I’m not trying to convince you or anything. But if you wanted, you could close your eyes, pretend you’re with a girl, that might help? And I’ll just get you hard, check out this apparently horrific scar on your dick, and send you on your way. Completely casual, totally no-homo. How does that sound?”
“Gay. It sounds very gay,” Jeongguk mutters, shuffling up on Namjoon’s bed until his head rests against the pillows propped up on the wall. He closes his eyes tightly and loosely folds his arms over his stomach. “Go ahead.”
“You sure?”
“Sure. Just make it quick.”
The springs inside this god-awful mattress begin to bounce as Jimin repositions himself. And it feels… awkward. Humiliating, on a much deeper level than Jeongguk has ever experienced. Shameful.
He shoots his eyes open when his friend straddles his lap. “Wh— why are you— what are you d-doing?”
Jimin blinks at him, cheeks not even slightly red unlike Jeongguk’s, which are probably purple at this point. He sighs, shoulders drooping as he looks around the room. Then he climbs off, feet on the ground.
“Come here, you straight bastard.”
“W-what?”
Jimin beckons him with the nod of his head, walking to the desk chair in the corner of the room and sitting on it, waiting for Jeongguk to follow him. He notices Jeongguk’s confusion and smiles at him, leaning back in the chair for comfort.
“Stand in front of me, Gguk-ah. I need to be able to see you, and you clearly don’t want me sitting on you.”
Jeongguk nods when he catches on, swinging his legs off the bed and cautiously making his way over to the elder. And it’s shameful, it’s fucking degrading, lest not because Jimin smirks and spreads his legs a little further so that Jeongguk can stand between them. He stops when his shins touch the leather edge of the seat, feeling Jimin’s thighs at either side of his knees.
“What are you g-gonna do?”
“Just trust me, Jeongguk-ah. I can stop at any time if you want to, you just have to tell me to stop. Okay?”
Jeongguk nods. He’s trying not to think about this god-awful situation he’s in, about how he’s standing in between the legs of a gay man, about how this gay man is about to touch him and make him hard. It’s like being at the doctor’s office all over again, but it’s worse. The last time he showed his doctor his dick was a few years after he got this fucking scar, before dick touching meant anything perversive to him.
And the doctor wasn’t gay. He’s fairly sure of it. The doctor was just doing his job. Jimin is getting him hard to look at this scar for aesthetic, not medical, purposes.
Jimin sits up in the chair, lowering the height a little more until his lips are at level with Jeongguk’s navel. He’s extremely close to his crotch. Much closer than Jeongguk would normally allow a man to be.
“Close your eyes,” Jimin instructs.
“Why?”
“You really wanna do this while watching me? Just close your eyes, pretend you’re with a girl.”
“Oh. Oh, okay. Good idea.”
Jeongguk closes his eyes, holding his hands against them purely because he’s not really sure what else he’s supposed to do with them right now. Because when his eyes flutter open curiously, he’s faced with the shadow of his palms and not a man about to fondle him.
“You’d better not get hard while doing this,” he warns.
Jimin chuckles prettily, almost a giggle. “I promise I won’t touch myself if I do, Gguk-ah. You’ll be none the wiser.”
Jesus, Jimin is definitely going to get hard while he fondles around with Jeongguk’s cock. It’s quite a detestable thing to think about, like an invasion of sexual boundaries. But it can’t be helped. Jimin is a gay man, after all.
Pretend it’s a girl. Jeongguk nods to himself, exhaling a sharp breath while he collects his thoughts. Now, he’s standing in front of Hyuna, the woman of his dreams — the woman of every man’s dreams. He’s standing in Namjoon’s bedroom, and Kim Hyuna is sitting in his desk chair wearing nothing but pretty lace lingerie. Jeongguk exhales again, trying his hardest to visualize it. Kim Hyuna in pretty black lace, red lipstick and sultry eye makeup, smirking at him as she reaches for his waistband.
Two hands begin rubbing the sides of his thighs, and Jeongguk gasps quietly, tensing up a little. Okay, so she’s not touching his waistband, she’s touching his thighs. Kim Hyuna is rubbing his thighs slowly, up and down, with fingers that gently massage his muscles. And it feels nice. He exhales, trying to relax his breathing. For her. For Kim Hyuna.
Maybe Hyuna has taken her false nails off, because her fingernails are blunt when she presses lightly into his thighs. And that’s fine — Jeongguk is very fond of the nails but it’s fine, it’s not a big deal, because she is still sitting here at Namjoon’s desk chair and she’s still rubbing his thighs. He’s always fantasized about having Hyuna touch him, and it never started with his thighs, but it’s fine. It’s nice. Kim Hyuna is nice.
Her hands slide higher towards his hips, and Jeongguk swallows when they dip underneath his t-shirt. Her fingers are a little thicker and shorter than he pictured them, but they still ghost along his stomach quite nicely, almost tickling him. Jeongguk pictures her biting her lip, eyes locked with his as her hands trail around his stomach and waist. And she tilts her head just a little bit to the left and asks him, do you like i—
“You’re really tense, Gguk-ah, I need you to relax.”
Or, in a much thicker and heavier voice, she tells him that he’s too tense. And it’s really not at all what she sounds like, it’s actually the very opposite of what she sounds like. Jeongguk looks down at Hyuna, and there’s now an adam’s apple in her throat.
Which is fine — some women have deeper voices and some have adam’s apples. Not Hyuna, but maybe she has a cold. Maybe she’s feeling under the weather.
If she’s feeling under the weather then maybe Jeongguk should be trying to please her. And he would be more than willing to get down on his knees right now and kiss his way up her thigh, right until his lips press against the black lace. Jeongguk would be more than willing to do this, except he can’t. No, today he’s going to have to be selfish and keep his hands and tongue to himself.
His t-shirt is being raised, almost teasingly slowly. Jeongguk gently nibbles his lip, resisting the urge to leap back and yank it down. It is Kim Hyuna after all, and he wouldn’t want to be rude.
It’s definitely Kim Hyuna raising his t-shirt. It’s her hand that’s sliding upwards from the waistband of his sweatpants; a flat palm that slowly glides along his skin, fingers spreading as they get closer to his chest. It’s her face that’s edging closer to his stomach, her stunning eyes locked with his, looking up at him prettily.
Kim Hyuna presses a kiss against the skin just above his navel. And her lips are thicker than he pictured. They’re not sticky with red lipstick. But still, she’s pressed a kiss on his stomach, and Jeongguk really can’t ignore the way the heat is growing under it. She mouths at his skin, holding his t-shirt up with one hand but letting the other one roam over his torso, thumb teasing his nipple briefly as it passes.
Jeongguk can feel the hot air she exhales through her nose. He can feel how soft her lips are when she sucks slightly next to his navel, how wet her tongue is when she licks around it, how nice her fingers feel as they ghost around his pectoral muscles. But most importantly, he can feel himself starting to swell up very slowly.
“Relax, baby,” she purrs, with an incredibly thick and husky voice. That is definitely not Hyuna’s voice, but he pretends not to notice.
Her lips press gently under his navel and Jeongguk shudders ever so slightly, because she’s about to make her way down and touch him, and he’s only just starting to realise how much he needs to be touched right now. Like there’s a pressure under where she’s kissed, a build up of blood that’s slowly trickling into his cock, making it just a little bit stiffer. But it’s just waiting for that first touch, that hand that will wrap around the length and pump it, and then the blood that’s pooling slowly near his stomach will break like a dam and give him this proper fucking hard on that’s been impossible to maintain.
Almost there. This is almost over.
But Kim Hyuna would beg to disagree. Jeongguk whines quietly when her tongue pokes out, and she licks a long stripe against his skin — upwards, not downwards.
Teasing him. The fucking gall of this bastard.
“Hyung, ah— you— you’re going the wrong way,” he mutters, letting the illusion of his favourite idol slip for a moment.
“You don’t like it?” Jimin slurs against his left pectoral muscle. He’s pushed the two of them a step back, rising out of the chair but not completely standing. And his voice sounds a little different. Hushed, a little breathless, a little desperate.
He’s turned on, and it makes Jeongguk clench involuntarily, but at the same time his stomach twists with discomfort.
But it’s fine. It’s understandable, because Jeongguk works hard on his body, and he gets compliments from men and women alike. And Jimin’s mouth feels… nice. It feels really nice, albeit extremely fucking revolting.
Jimin’s tongue strokes against his nipple, and Jeongguk stutters his breath when the feeling causes sparks under his skin. “H-h-hyung.”
He feels Jimin’s — Hyuna’s, for God’s sake — lips curl into a smirk against his skin.
“Noona,” he whispers, chest expanding with heavier breaths.
Hyuna chuckles quietly, and it’s a very husky chuckle, not at all like hers. “You like it when noona plays with your nipples?”
Jeongguk flushes. The pressure is still there in his groin, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before. And okay, some girls have deep voices, and he’s not averse to it. But Kim Hyuna sounds nothing like that.
“I— I’d like it even more if you stopped talking,” he mutters.
Her smirk grows, and she exhales a laugh through her nose. But she doesn’t speak, and Jeongguk finds it significantly easier to pretend that it is indeed Hyuna kissing her way across to his right pectoral muscle. It is definitely Kim Hyuna who licks at his nipple and plays with the other one between her soft, un-manicured fingers.
The pressure is back again, weighing heavier and heavier in his sweatpants. And he’s starting to grow — he can feel himself swelling up, starting to push uncomfortably against his sweatpants as seconds pass. He’s not fully hard, and he won’t be, not until someone touches him. Jeongguk really wants her to touch him.
He whines, partially out of desperation, but partially because — holy shit, Kim Hyuna really does know what she’s doing. She’s sucking gently on his nipple, and it’s a feeling that Jeongguk has never actually felt before. Honestly, he doesn’t touch his nipples when he gets off. He had no idea that it could even feel good on men.
It must be a gay thing. Jeongguk feels the pressure ease at the reminder. It must be a gay thing, and Jimin is doing this to him because he knows it — and Jimin is a gay man. Jeongguk is not a gay man. He’s very straight, which is why it’s extremely mortifying that a gay man is currently sucking his nipple and practically worshiping his pectorals right now, lest not because Jeongguk is very much enjoying it.
He’s enjoying it a little too much, and he flushes incredibly hard when a moan slips through his lips. It’s quiet and he can only pray that Jimin didn’t notice, but he thinks that he did — because he feels another smirk curling against his chest, he feels his nipple being sucked a little harder, a tongue swirling around it.
It’s driving him a little crazy. Jeongguk can’t be sure if his dick gets harder, but he can feel the pressure punching down with every flick of Jimin’s — Hyuna’s, damn it — tongue, and he can feel a dribble of pre-cum leaking through his tip.
Having his nipple sucked is a very nice feeling indeed, but all Jeongguk wants right now is for someone to finally touch his fucking cock, because he’s almost fully hard. He is very close to being as hard as he can get.
He tries not to notice that he’s never gotten this hard without touching himself before. It’s quite inexcusable to react this much to a gay man sucking his nipples. It’s frankly emasculating. What kind of straight man can let himself get hard in front of another man like this? When doing these kind of things with another man?
But it’s not Jimin, he reminds himself. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut and gently pushes on the crown on Hyuna’s head, choosing to ignore that her hair is not even remotely as long as the gorgeous locks that he’s imagined this whole time. It’s definitely Kim Hyuna’s head who he’s pushing down. It’s absolutely Kim Hyuna who obliges and kisses the skin on her way down, letting go of his t-shirt and sliding her hands up and down his waist.
Jeongguk doesn’t stop pushing until she’s seated again, and then he pulls her further towards his cock, and finally retracts his hands when she lets out an animalistic groan.
“Fucking hell,” she breathes, hands massaging his hips. “Jeongguk-ah, I figured you were big, but this— Jesus, you weren’t kidding.”
And well, Hyuna’s voice might be very deep right now, but Jeongguk still flushes at her words. He pictures her face right now: wide eyes and raised eyebrows, jaw slack with surprise. It’s quite a sexy thought and Jeongguk smirks almost smugly. After all, it’s not his size that he’s embarrassed by.
He threads his fingers through short strands of hair, locking them at the back of her head and pulling her face towards his crotch. And the very second he feels her hot breath seep through the fabric, his cock bobs with anticipation, stretching out through the material and gently tapping her face. The very second he feels her face press against him, he lets out an obscenely loud moan. He’s finally being touched, finally easing some of that pressure. He eases it some more, using her head to re-position his cock into a more comfortable angle; tip pointing upwards towards his left hip instead of uncomfortably straining outwards against his sweatpants.
Hyuna inhales deeply, like she’s trying to breathe in his scent; like she’s intoxicated by it. Her mouth doesn’t hesitate to open, and she tilts her head and slides her lips along the outline of his cock, pressing her tongue against the fabric in a way that makes it damp and makes Jeongguk’s hands grip tighter against her hair. He ruts his hips forward and grinds against her face, groaning when her hands cup his ass to pull him closer, like she’s not even close enough even if he’s practically humping her fucking face like an untamed animal. Like she’s enjoying this as much as he is.
And she must be enjoying it, because she lets out a long, guttural sound that only fuels him to loosen his grip and still his hips — letting her continue to press her face into his crotch and move on her own accord. Desperate. She’s fucking desperate.
“Oh,” he breathes, forehead wrinkling and lips falling apart. “Like that, yeah.”
She pushes her nose up and down his length, still slowly exhaling this hot air that’s driving him fucking crazy. And Jeongguk can feel her breaths thicken. He can faintly hear her taking these deep breaths against his cock, he can hear little airy moans like she’s infatuated with it. She lets her hands fall to rub at his thighs again while she mouths hungrily at his cock.
And this is as far as he’s ever gotten with a girl: feeling her lick along his sweatpants from his balls to the tip, hissing as she sucks against the wet patch on the fabric, cursing when her lips stretch around the head of his cock as far as they can while his clothes are still on. He’s not unfamiliar with this excitement, this sudden worshiping behaviour from the people pressing their faces against the shape of him, the way they breathe heavily and Jeongguk can practically feel just how much they want him. He can sense how fucking obsessed they are with his cock.
But every time he feels fingers hooking under the waistband of his sweatpants, he panics and stops. Maybe his dick is impressively big, maybe those girls looked like they would have given anything to have it, but that’s not the point. Jeongguk has a big cock, but the scar is incredibly grotesque.
Hyuna pulls back from his crotch, and Jeongguk whines at the loss of contact. Her hand is quick to replace her face, wrapping around the shape and slowly tightening her grip as she drags her fist towards the tip.
“Is this as big as it gets or does it get bigger?” she purrs, in a voice that’s deeper than the tone that he’s only just gotten used to. Sultry, husky. Jeongguk clenches involuntarily and feels her hand grip him even tighter in response.
“This— I think this is as b-big as it g-gets,” Jeongguk guesses, because his eyes are screwed shut and he’s simply relying on the feeling. And it feels like he’s fully hard. It feels like he’s finally hard.
Her hand splays against the underside of his cock, pushing the heel of it down as it slides up towards his waistband, almost in sync with the hand that’s sliding up from his thigh. And Jeongguk sucks in a breath in anticipation, nibbling his lower lip as her fingers hook under his waistband. He pulls her head towards his cock as she lowers his sweatpants to his mid-thigh, cursing at the feral noise that she makes when it slaps heavily against her cheek. But she’s less eager, this time.
“Ah— Jeongguk-ah. A-are you sure you want me to— I was going to use my hands, not—“
Jeongguk’s eyes shoot open, and in a panic he jerks back, hands instinctively crossing over his chest. Because it’s not Kim Hyuna sitting in that chair, it’s not Kim Hyuna who would be sucking his cock — it’s Jimin. It’s fucking Jimin; a gay man, who was only supposed to look at his dick, but now he’s touched it through fabric and now there’s a small glisten of his pre-cum that has literally just smeared on his cheek.
His cock is very rapidly softening, and Jeongguk curses, watching as the scar that was so visible a second ago fades into flaccid flesh. Even with a semi-erection, it’s difficult to see it. He needs to be hard, like he was a moment ago before Jimin ruined his beautiful illusion.
“Okay. Okay, don’t panic,” Jimin urges, rolling the chair closer to him. He takes the softening flesh into his hand and Jeongguk whines — because he really does not want to be touched by Jimin but, god, it does feel quite delightful to be touched properly at last.
His strokes are quick, fist squeezing him gently but allowing him to grow. And Jeongguk simply watches this pathetic display in front of him: Jimin’s hand curled around his wilting cock, that seems to be shrinking even more rather than swelling up again. This is Jimin’s hand, after all. Not Kim Hyuna, who is now nowhere to be found.
Jeongguk wraps his own hand around Jimin’s, jerking himself off a lot faster and tighter, closing his eyes and praying for his sweet Hyuna to come back. But she’s gone. She’s gone, and the past five minutes of explicitly homosexual activities have been for nothing.
“Hyung, can you,” he starts, biting his lip before he can continue. It is a very embarrassing thing that he’s about to ask, and it’s not something that Jeongguk ever imagined himself saying. “P-play— ah. Play with my— the— w-what you did earlier.”
Miraculously Jimin seems to understand. He pulls his hand away from Jeongguk’s cock and slides both hands under his t-shirt towards his chest.
And the stimulation is back. Jeongguk feels his nipples tingling as Jimin rolls them between his thumbs and fingers, and it’s like sparks of electricity that send signals right down to his groin. Still, his dick only shrinks in response.
“Noona, mm,” he calls, face scrunching as he works his fist even faster. “Where are y-you?”
He clenches his teeth, holding his breath while he jerks himself off furiously. But he can feel the blood in his face and his chest, he can feel his heartbeat going erratic as he struggles, and nothing is making his damn cock hard. Hyuna is nowhere to be found.
The stimulation on his nipples stops. “Okay. Jeongguk-ah, just stop. You’re not making it get hard, you look like you’re about to give yourself a fucking stroke, so just stop.”
Jeongguk lets go of the breath he was holding, wheezing it out as he stops working his fist. He yanks his sweatpants up in a swift motion and huffs as he storms to the bed.
Minutes of an extremely homoerotic experience that was all for nothing.
Jimin sighs, watching him drop his face into his hands, hunched over his knees. He’s silent for a long moment, but then he speaks.
“If it’s any consolation, your dick is, like, maybe the biggest I’ve ever seen? No— it’s definitely the biggest I’ve ever seen.”
“I know it’s big, hyung. But that’s not the point.”
“And from the few seconds I got to see it, I didn’t notice anything wrong with it. It’s actually a really nice dick. There’s no reason to be ashamed of it, Gguk-ah.”
Jeongguk sighs. “The scar is on the underside, near the balls. You didn’t see it because you didn’t get a chance to.”
He didn’t get a chance to, because like some horny fucking fool, Jeongguk completely forgot that a man was in front of him, and he almost made a man suck his dick. Now, he’ll never get hard again.
“Look,” Jimin starts, almost unsurely. He plays with his fingers in his lap and specifically avoids looking up at him. “I think— shit. I think we should try again.”
“Wh—“
“Just listen, just listen. I don’t think we talked enough about it beforehand — honestly I wasn’t expecting you to be so into it, so—“
“Ah, I wasn’t! I wasn’t into it!”
“You— you pulled my face into your dick, Gguk-ah,” Jimin reminds him.
Jeongguk grimaces.
“So, boundaries,” the elder proposes, clapping his hands against his thighs. “Do you want me to suck your dick; yes or no?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay. Noted. Can I touch you with my hands? Only to get you hard, I’m not offering a handjob or anything. This is strictly just so that I can see the scar.”
Jeongguk swallows. It is a rather repulsive thought, but the only way to get him hard enough is to give him a few strokes. “Okay.”
“Okay. So, let’s try again?”
“Sure,” he sighs, standing to his feet and walking to the chair in shame. “Oh, and hyung?”
“Hm?”
“No kisses. Like, anywhere. It’s too gay.”
Jimin chuckles, nodding. “No kisses, got it,” he says, spreading his legs to make room for him. “Close your eyes.”
= = =
Kim Hyuna is rubbing oil into his pectoral muscles. Her latest album is playing quietly in the background, and Jeongguk is willing to admit that he has oozed out of the tip of his dick every single time she slides her hands up and down his torso in perfect time with the music.
It’s been an hour since Jeongguk almost received a gay blowjob, and now he’s standing stark naked in Namjoon’s room, clothes folded neatly on the floor besides him, hands awkwardly linked behind his back. In this entire hour, they’ve had two more failed attempts, and Jeongguk swears to god that this will be the final attempt to do this. He’s absolutely going to show this gay man his scar this time.
A blindfold made out of a folded scarf is tied around his head, scented with just a little spritz of women’s perfume; not strong enough to completely mask the vanilla scent of the oil that’s being massaged into his skin. Jeongguk is no stranger to massage oils. It’s just the first time that someone other than himself or a professional masseuse is rubbing it all over him. It’s also the first time that the person rubbing it into him is trying — and succeeding — to turn him on.
And it’s Kim Hyuna, of all people. Jeongguk hums in appreciation as she rolls his nipples between her thumbs and fingers. She’s remained completely silent throughout, but Jeongguk imagines that she’s speaking to him; she’s complimenting him on his defined pectoral and abdominal muscles, and on the huge length of the cock that she keeps edging dangerously close to — but never touching him. Jeongguk groans when the heel of her hand meets the very base of his extremely hard cock, praying that she will finally touch him. But she doesn’t, and Jeongguk feels himself clenching and bucking his hips forward; a cold string of pre-cum catching the inside of his thighs from the movement.
Frankly, he is hard enough that the scar should be visible now. And at this point, Jeongguk should really take off the blindfold and point this scar out in the five seconds he has before he goes flaccid again, and then he will pick up the clothes discarded on the floor, put them on, and leave without speaking of this ever again in his entire life.
There’s one problem, though: he doesn’t want to. No, he wants the very opposite right now. He wants Hyuna to finally touch his cock, because every time her hand gently brushes against it, it throbs with unneeded abandonment.
That, and well, this massage on his chest is actually quite relaxing. The only part of him that is tense right now is his dick. And his nipples, of course. And his abdomens, which tense every time Hyuna’s hand slides teasingly close to his cock.
“Noona,” he pleads, throat jumping in a thick swallow. “T-touch me. Please.”
Of course, Hyuna obeys. The very second he feels the curve between her thumb and finger hook around the base of his cock, Jeongguk bucks his hips again, lips curling into a smile as he throws his head back. Her index finger and thumb curl around the girth of his base, and they don’t touch until she squeezes hard enough to make them meet. And then, she slowly drags her way upwards, curling the rest of her fingers around him as they touch him.
“Y-yeah,” he whispers, squirming the hands behind his back and lifting his head again. “Like that, baby. More. Touch— touch me.”
The feeling of her slicked up hand finally pulling on his cock is a pleasure he’s never felt before. The oil on Hyuna’s palm is perfectly warm, perfectly gliding over his shaft, perfectly squeezing him as she pulls.
And then her thumb presses against his frenulum when she reaches the tip, and Jeongguk jerks violently at the intensity, fingers clenching behind his back. She works his head like nobody — not even Jeongguk by himself — has ever worked it, squeezing it between her fingers and massaging his frenulum, rolling his foreskin back to trace her fingers around the edge of his head.
And Jeongguk can’t do anything except but whine and curse, hips stuttering and breath hitching. He can’t do anything but focus too much on this blissful feeling that’s quite literally going to make him cum at any second now, neglecting to note how her other hand is sliding from his pectorals. It’s like the hand doesn’t even exist, because Jeongguk can’t feel anything other than the pleasure caused by her other hand and the pressure that’s starting to feel more intense at the base of his cock.
Until that hand wraps around his length and strokes him; tightly and slowly, gliding so easily with the oil. Jeongguk keens, feeling these two soft hands working him. His abdomen muscles tense, and he’s lingering dangerously close to an orgasm.
“Ah— ah, n-noona!”
The hand working his head suddenly retracts, and the leather desk chair squeaks as someone sits in it. Jeongguk feels the hand on his length weaken — not letting go of his cock, not stopping the slow motions, but simply loosening the grip.
“Alright. Where is this scar, then?” Jimin asks him, breath warm against the oil on his skin. He glides his fist loosely from the base to the tip, in such a slow motion that it drives Jeongguk insane.
The scar. The fucking scar. Jeongguk was so fucking lost in the pleasure of a ten second handjob that he completely fucking forgot the reason he was receiving it. He tears off the blindfold and looks at the man closely inspecting his shaft with dark, hungry eyes.
It’s not Kim Hyuna who has his hand around his cock, but Jeongguk really could not give any less of a shit. The only thing he cares about right now is relieving the pressure trapped at the base of his dick.
Jimin glances up at him curiously, and his eyes share the exact same blackness in them, pupils that are expanded as far as they can expand. Jeongguk lowers his eyes and stares at Jimin’s lips. Full, thick, pretty lips that are gently parted and a little glossy with saliva, like he’s licked them too many times.
Is it hot that someone is looking at his cock like they absolutely worship it, like they have never seen anything as gorgeous before, like there isn’t anything they wouldn’t fucking do to get their hands on it? Yes, it’s incredibly hot. And Jeongguk finds himself struggling to hold back just as much as Jimin is, because Jimin very clearly wants to do things with his dick that Jeongguk probably hasn’t ever heard of before, and it’s obvious by how he’s stroking him despite knowing that there is no way Jeongguk would go soft right now. He’s struggling to hold himself back because he’s picturing — maybe for the first time — how good Jimin’s lips would look around his dick.
Is it hot enough to make Jeongguk take his cock and slap it against Jimin’s lips? No. No, it’s not, because Jeongguk isn’t gay.
“The shaft, hyung,” he urges, eyes fixed to the tongue that swipes over Jimin’s lips. “Near the balls.”
He gestures with his finger, pointing it out very clearly. Jimin edges closer to his dick and angles it upwards to get a better look, and Jeongguk holds his breath. It’s a feeling of discomfort, but it’s also a feeling of anticipation. Desperation, almost. Almost.
“Where?”
“Right there. The line that’s right there.”
“Wher— what— are you fucking serious, Jeongguk?” Jimin scoffs, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.
Jeongguk is very conscious of Jimin’s hand, still wrapped around his length, still slowly moving with no distinct rhythm or speed or pressure. It’s making him want to thrust up into his hand, but he holds back.
“All this worry for that tiny little scar? I thought you had a huge fucking dent or a chunk missing or something. What the fuck is that? Huh? I can hardly even see it.”
“B-but— but you can see it. Look, it’s like— it’s raised weirdly and it’s so ugly, it’s—“
“I can assure you,” Jimin promises, and he retracts his hand and sits back in the chair, nodding to the throbbing cock in front of him. “No girl will comment on it. I doubt they will notice, and if they do, it’s not that big of a deal. I have a scar bigger than that on my ankle, has that ever stopped anyone from fucking me?”
“It’s not on your dick, though,” Jeongguk mumbles.
“Anyway, your dick is fine. If someone says something, then dump her. Find someone nicer.”
Jimin blows out the scented candle besides them, and Jeongguk can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. And there’s no reason to be, because Jimin has done exactly what he was asked to do, and Jeongguk made it very clear that he wanted this to be as least awkward as possible. It’s much less awkward to go back to his room and jerk off to porn than to ask Jimin to… keep doing what he was doing.
What he was doing felt very good. Even before he touched his dick, Jimin knew exactly how to please him, how to rile him up and leave him wanting more. He knew exactly what parts of him feel good to touch — he knew it better than Jeongguk even knew it.
This is very much the main contributor to the fact that his dick is still incredibly hard. His cock is like steel, slick with oil that glistens under the weak lights of the dormitory bedroom, tip flushed like the buildup is stuck inside there instead of being held captive at the opposite end.
Of course, the other main contributor to this embarrassingly aroused state is the fact that he is quite literally a minute or so from cumming, after over an hour of edging.
Jimin’s eyes are glued to it. He seems surprised, and definitely unsure. Extremely unsure. Because Jeongguk is straight. He is absolutely heterosexual, and he isn’t at all attracted to men.
“I think I fixed your dick,” Jimin mumbles.
And he’s right, because by this point, Jeongguk would normally be fully soft again. He’s standing in front of a man — and he’s very aware of it being a man rather than an imaginary idol — and he is still very much erect. This is exactly the opposite of what’s happened so far, which has caused a potentially two minute slightly homosexual interaction to become nearly two hours of incredibly non-straight activities.
He’s merely minutes away from blowing a load, and Jimin has done an exceptional job of pleasing him so far. Jimin has pleased him better than Jeongguk could ever please himself.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk whispers, lowering his head in shame. “You— you said earlier, um, some— something about doing s-stuff with straight guys. Were they, um— did they still— they were still straight after, right? Like they d-didn’t turn gay or anything?”
“Some of them realized they were bisexual, but not all of them,” Jimin assures him. “Some tried it and decided one time was enough.”
It’s somewhat comforting to know that he’s not the only one who’s blurred the lines. But it’s still not any less embarrassing to have to ask this. “Hyung, I’m— I’m sorry, but can you— could you maybe— shit. Hyung, I’m really close a-a-and—“
“You want me to finish you?”
Jeongguk flushes, nodding. It’s quite the mystery how so much blood can pool under his cheeks when it feels like all of it is locked inside the very tip of his cock.
“Are you sure? If you’re doing this for my sake, don’t. I can get off by myself.”
And then, for the first time, Jeongguk acknowledges Jimin’s own arousal. It’s right there in front of him: a small bulge in his sweatpants, a size that’s no match for his own but it’s not his business to comment on.
Jimin is hard, and he’s hard because he’s been touching Jeongguk for pretty much an hour now. He’s hard because he likes what he sees. Because he’s enjoyed touching Jeongguk’s body.
Jeongguk, in all his heterosexual mindset, finds it quite repulsive and a little disturbing. But there’s something happening right now, like colours are blending, lines are merging, and that repulsion in his head is heavily outweighed by a primal need to cum. A glitch in his sexuality.
In this glitched mindset, he remembers the first encounter: how Jimin had practically melted against his cock when Jeongguk pushed his head there. How he had mouthed hungrily at it through the fabric and moaned softly. How fucking horny Jimin must have been to submit to him like that.
The hunger in Jimin’s eyes right now is incomparable to Jeongguk’s; because Jimin sees exactly what he wants, exactly what he’s craving for, and Jeongguk only sees someone who is just as horny as he is. Not a man, not a woman, not a thing. Just a person who is going to get off on this just like him. A person who is going to make him feel incredible.
“Hyung, touch me.”
“Are you—“
“I’m sure. I’m sure, hyung. Shit, please touch me.”
It’s all Jimin needs. He sits up in the chair, and that little flash in Jeongguk’s mind that screams, don’t fucking do this, it’s too gay, disappears as soon as his hand wraps around his length.
“You know, I’ve never had a two-hander before,” Jimin comments offhandedly, bringing his other hand to Jeongguk’s cock and jerking them both in tandem.
“What’s a two-hander?” Jeongguk slurs.
“Big enough to use two hands. You’re huge, Gguk-ah. Makes me wish you were gay.”
Jeongguk chuckles, flushing at the praise. “Ah, hyung, can you do that thing again? The thing you did with the tip, when you— ah! Ah, y-yeah that’s it.”
Instinctively, he closes his eyes and rests his hands loosely on his hips, letting himself enjoy the feeling of Jimin’s hands. But as the pleasure builds up again, he becomes greedy. Jimin’s lips looked so inviting. So pretty, almost feminine. It’s not hard to suddenly picture them stretching around his cock.
When he opens his eyes, those lips are dangerously close to the head. Jimin’s tongue wets them again, eyes completely fixated on what’s in his hands, eyebrows gently furrowed. He wants Jeongguk’s cock almost as badly as Jeongguk wants to give it to him.
“Do you wanna suck it, hyung?”
Jimin’s eyes peer up at him, dark and eager. His forehead wrinkles even more, bottom lip sucking between his teeth. And he nods. He nods frantically, squeezing his fists tighter around him and practically whining in relief.
The second he leans forward, Jeongguk steps back playfully. He smirks at the soft cry that the elder lets out, the way he looks like he’s never been this disappointed in his life.
“Don’t tease me, Gguk-ah,” he pleads, hands still working him. “I’m way too horny.”
They’re both too horny, and Jeongguk doesn’t have time to tease him, because he feels like he’s going to cum at any second, like the blood pooling below his stomach is starting to simmer, like the knot inside the base of his cock is tightening. And with that in mind, he takes a small step forward, reaching for Jimin’s head and pulling him closer. He’s rewarded with a startled gasp that very quickly becomes a pleased hum, and Jimin’s lips engulf the head of his cock with no hesitation.
In all honesty, he’s never had a blowjob, so he can’t say if Jimin is good at it or not. But he thinks that he might be. He really thinks that he might be fantastic at them, because already his tongue is pressing into his slit as he sucks lightly. Already, his tongue is teasing his frenulum while his hands work the shaft, and Jeongguk’s hips jerk back from the oversensitivity.
He thinks that Jimin might be the best he’s ever going to have, because the very second that his dick is pulled away from Jimin’s lips, the elder moans and thrusts his head forward to follow it, lapping at the tip before licking his way down the shaft.
It’s like he’s infatuated with it. Jeongguk watches in awe as Jimin clasps his hands against his thighs — leverage for him as he drops to his knees. He trails his lips up and down his cock, locking his eyes with Jeongguk’s and suckling gently on his shaft. His cock is heavy against Jimin’s face, and he struggles to balance it without his hands to help him, constantly nudging it side to side.
There’s something interesting about the size comparison between Jimin’s face and Jeongguk’s cock. And Jeongguk doesn’t want to get ahead of himself or try to make himself seem bigger, but he thinks that his cock is just as big as Jimin’s face. He brings a hand down to hold the base, angling it flat against Jimin’s face to see if it really is the same length. And it‘s not. It’s bigger. With Jimin’s chin pressed against his balls, the tip of his cock reaches the tousled strands of hair on his head.
And Jeongguk doesn’t know which one of them finds it hotter. The guttural groan that forces its way through his clenched teeth is enough to show how much Jeongguk loves it. But it’s no match for the elongated moan and incoherent curses that Jimin slurs against his cock, eyes rolling back into his head. No, he definitely knows which one of them finds it hotter. Jimin looks like he could cum right now just from having this cock on his face.
He gently slaps it against his face, smirking at Jimin’s fucked-out expression — even if he hasn’t been fucked, or touched at all. And it’s insanely hot to see him react like this, it’s inexplicitly a turn on to see Jimin prove what a cockslut he is — and for a straight man nonetheless. Jeongguk lets the hand holding his cock slide to cup the elder’s cheek, thumbing at the corner of his mouth lightly, humming when Jimin turns his head slightly to suck on it.
It’s only when the weight of his cock slips off his face that Jimin pulls back, eyeing it up like he’s about to devour it, shoulders rocking with how heavily he’s breathing, fingers digging harshly where they’re holding onto his thighs. And then, almost like he was being wound up like a toy, he lurches forward and takes Jeongguk’s cock into his mouth.
Jeongguk was right: his lips look perfect stretched around his cock. But it’s no match for just how ruined Jimin’s expression is. How feral he’s suddenly acting, like he’s addicted to his cock — or maybe just cock in general, he doesn’t want to get too full of himself suddenly — and he can’t get enough of it. It’s impossible to get enough of it.
He’s edging his way down the length slowly, and Jeongguk lets his head fall back at the feeling, stomach clenching and mouth falling open wide. It’s so warm and wet and Jimin is sucking what’s in his mouth as he takes more by the second. It’s honestly like nothing he’s experienced before, and it couldn’t get any better.
Except it can. Jimin is just over halfway down the whole length when the tip reaches his throat. It’s tight, hot, and Jeongguk can’t help but thrust forward to feel more of it — which might have been a mistake, because Jimin gags and retracts quickly.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry,” Jeongguk rushes, cupping his cheek to see if he’s okay. Jimin’s eyes are watering, his face is red, and he’s swallowing rather uncomfortably; but he nods in acknowledgment.
“Gguk-ah,” he rasps, quickly resuming stroking him with his hands instead. “If you wanna fuck my throat then you’re gonna have to warm me up first, baby.”
Jeongguk groans at the thought of doing it. He’s no stranger to the concept of face-fucking, and he knows that Jimin would look and feel absolutely orgasmic doing it to him. But he also knows that he wouldn’t last long enough. He’s too close already.
“It’s okay, hyung. You don’t have to do that, just keep— ah, keep s-sucking me.”
Jimin nods, and without missing a beat he carries on.
This time, he licks along the flesh, pressing wet kisses against the underside of his cock near the scar, sucking lightly on his balls — a feeling that makes him cry out in pleasant surprise, and makes Jimin moan as he takes one into his mouth.
“Shit, hyung. It’s— it’s nice.”
Jeongguk is definitely on the very verge of an orgasm, and he’s trying his damn hardest to keep it at bay, because frankly Jimin is fucking fantastic at sucking his dick. It’s absurd how good a gay man can suck dick, like it’s simply not fair. He can only pray that women can do just as good.
There are multiple factors that make this an incredibly good blowjob, and Jeongguk counts them all. The fact that he’s already close to an orgasm. The way that Jimin never once stops using his hands — whether it’s jerking his cock while he teases his balls with his mouth, or rubbing along his thighs and hips while he bobs his head along the length, Jimin’s hands do not stop adding to the insane pleasures of his mouth. Of course, there’s the added truth of Jimin’s gender and sexuality; he’s a man, so he knows exactly what men like, and he’s gay, so he’s going to do his best to make Jeongguk feel as good as possible.
And then there’s the disturbing thought that makes Jeongguk lower his head again, eyes scanning every detail of Jimin’s face; every single tell-tale sign that somehow he’s getting off on this — he’s very much sucking him off like he’s chasing his own orgasm. And he’s acting like he’s not at all ashamed of it. He’s not ashamed to have slobber all over his mouth and chin, he’s not embarrassed by the rather grotesque and wet sounds he’s making as he bobs his head back and forth against Jeongguk’s gentle thrusts with slack lips, he’s not holding himself back from the tears that are spilling from his eyes. Honestly, he’s quite confident in his cockslut nature.
Which isn’t very disturbing in itself, but it is disturbing how much this is fuelling Jeongguk’s pleasure. Maybe he’s smug, maybe he’s proud, maybe he’s just too damn fucking horny and seeing someone else this horny is turning him on incredibly.
He licks his lips when Jimin meets his eyes, watching as the elder flattens his tongue along the girth of his cock and drags it slowly from the base to the tip as he detaches his mouth. His tongue is long, and it’s surprisingly sexy to watch. But what’s even sexier is how he sticks it out — tip of his tongue almost touching his chin — and slaps Jeongguk’s cock against it.
Jeongguk is skirting dangerously close to his orgasm, pulling back the knot that’s tightening, because he wants this to last as long as it possibly can. But that slap on his tongue — the slutty sight of it, the wet sound of it — has him letting go of the ropes, feeling his orgasm spring freely through his cock while Jeongguk cries out and hurriedly wraps a hand around himself to milk it out.
It’s strong enough that for a split second, he completely disappears — unable to see, hear, think, or feel anything that isn’t this explosive feeling in his dick. A split second of absolute fucking bliss. A taste of fucking heaven.
Jeongguk grinds his hips gently as he milks himself, pushing his tip down against Jimin’s tongue to feel the texture against his frenulum, even if it’s incredibly overstimulating. He’s still spurting; splashes of white that have shot across Jimin’s lips, nose, and miraculously missed his eye in favor of reaching his eyebrow instead. And it’s a pretty sight. It’s a gorgeous fucking sight as Jimin’s lips curl into a smile before closing around the head and sucking softly, like he’s trying to make sure that every drop is gone.
Surely, there must be cum in his mouth, too. He frowns as cum-coated lips gently suck him, reluctantly letting go when Jeongguk pulls back.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, searching the desk for something to wipe him with. But to his surprise, when he grabs a packet of tissues and pulls one out, the cum on Jimin’s lips is gone, and the man scoops what’s on his face with his finger, sucking it greedily. “Oh, um. O-okay.”
Jimin’s eyes are still dark, pupils still blown, but Jeongguk’s pupils are rapidly contracting as post-orgasm clarity hits him like a ton of bricks. And now he really is quite repulsed by the way that Jimin is looking at him, and he’s very disturbed by what he’s just done. A fucking man has just sucked him off, for Christ’s sake.
Still, Jeongguk isn’t a rude person. He stands awkwardly in Namjoon’s dorm and locks eyes with this obscenely horny gay guy in front of him, and as disgusted as he may be, he’s actually a very decent person.
“Would— um. Should I return the favor?”
Jimin chuckles, sitting back in the chair and readjusting his clothed dick casually in front of him. “No, Gguk-ah. Thank you for offering, though.”
“Seems unfair to just leave you high and dry,” he shrugs, reaching for the clothes next to his feet. He’s not exactly sure why he’s pressing it, because all rational thoughts are screaming at him to get dressed and fucking go while he has a chance, but his mother raised him better than that.
His mother certainly would agree with his rational thoughts right now and tell him to bolt, but that’s not the point.
“No, it’s not. You got what you wanted, don’t push yourself, Gguk. I certainly enjoyed it, did you?”
He enjoyed it more than anything he’s ever enjoyed in his life.
“Well, I guess it was— it— yeah.”
Jimin breathes out an airy laugh, watching him pull his sweatpants on. “Straight guilt,” he chuckles, “it won’t last. Don’t worry.”
Jeongguk nods, reaching for his t-shirt. His chest is covered in oil and it’s not exactly ideal to pull clothes on right now, but he doesn’t want to walk out of a gay man’s room looking like he’s just blown a nut — because people will make all kinds of assumptions that may or may not be correct.
“I feel bad leaving you like this, you’re clearly horny as fuck.”
“Namjoonie-hyung will take care of me, don’t worry.”
“What time does he get back?”
Jimin’s eyes break away from his suddenly, cheeks flushing.
“Around the time you asked if he wanted to suck you,” a voice murmurs behind him, deep and husky.
Jeongguk stiffens, spinning around on his heel. And of course, it’s Namjoon. Of course it is. Of course Namjoon is laying on his own bed, watching two people who are not residents of his bedroom do unspeakable things besides his desk.
But at least he’s not jerking off. Not quite. His hand is definitely feeling himself over his jeans and he’s definitely hard and definitely horny, but his dick is not out, and Jeongguk kind of respects that.
“Fuck,” is all he can say.
Namjoon smirks, eyes sizing him up from head to toe. And it serves as a reminder that Jeongguk was naked seconds ago, and Namjoon had a very clear view of his ass cheeks; which clenched slightly with every thrust into Jimin’s mouth and clenched very hard as he blew a load on Jimin’s face. And it’s definitely one more mortifying thing about this humiliating experience.
“You’ve got about five seconds to get out of here before I re-enact this with Jimin, Gguk-ah,” he slurs, hands starting to undo his belt. “Of course, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like to.”
He wouldn’t like to, actually. He’s done enough gay things today, and sticking around to watch two men fuck is definitely not something that was on the list. And Jeongguk is about to politely decline his offer when Jimin stands up behind him, already making his way over to the bed without a care in the world about Jeongguk still being here.
“Yeah, bye,” he mutters, holding his hand out to block his view of Jimin’s head falling to Namjoon’s crotch as he scurries to the bedroom door. “H-have fun. Th-thanks, hyung!”
And with that, he slips out of Namjoon’s dorm and slams the door behind him, rushing back to his bedroom; where he will remain for the entire duration of Jimin’s visit, trying not to think about how hard he just came from a guy’s mouth.
Nevertheless, when Jeongguk slams his bedroom door closed and leans against it, he doesn’t find himself feeling as disgusted as he expected to. It was a once in a lifetime experience, a momentary glitch in his sexuality. He’s really not sure if he’d ever do something like this again, but at least it’s not something that he regrets doing.