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Jungkook leans against the subway’s door, chest heaving with his quick breaths.
He had to run down two ramps of escalators so that he could jump inside the subway’s train just before the doors closed, risking getting his jacket stuck in between the two sliding panels.
He checks the time on his phone and groans before going through his contact list and pressing Jimin’s number. The call goes unanswered, the phone ringing for more than thirty seconds. With a frown, Jungkook decides to call Yoongi instead.
“Hey.”
“Hyung!” Jungkook blinks, patting the sweat off his neck with the sleeve of his jacket. “Sorry, I might be a bit late. I missed a bus and managed to get in the subway only now.”
“It’s alright, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi replies. His voice sounds a bit hoarse like just woke up. This might be the case, given how Yoongi spends most of his nights awake, working, and sleeps most of his mornings and early afternoons away. “There’s no rush.”
Jungkook hums. Still, he wants to get to Yoongi’s house as soon as he can. It’s been a while since they managed to find a weekend that worked for all three of them, and Jungkook has been looking forward to this.
Plus, he hasn’t had the best of weeks.
“I tried calling Jimin-hyung to tell him I was gonna be late.”
“Jimin is here already.”
“Oh.” Jungkook frowns. “He didn’t pick up.”
Yoongi hums. “He’s a little busy at the moment.”
Jungkook presses his lips together, ignoring the wave of heat that went through him. Getting hard on the subway might not be the best idea. “Is he?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes out. “Get here soon so that you can be just as busy, Jungkook-ah.”
“Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“Tell that to Jimin, he’s being a greedy slut today.”
Just before the call ends, Jungkook hears a light, airy moan. Slowly, Jungkook pockets his phone and takes a deep breath.
This is gonna be a long night.
With Yoongi it’s complicated.
It’s not because Yoongi isn’t good. Fuck that, he’s great, sometimes too great, it makes Jungkook question everything.
But it is complicated, because Yoongi isn’t his. Not really, not like the others.
“I wanna introduce you to him,” Jimin had told him one evening, as they laid in bed, still naked and filthy and too lazy to move.
“To your dom?” Jungkook frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I bet you’d like him. And I’ve been wanting to have a threesome for a while, but I don’t trust anyone else.”
“Hyung.” Jungkook sighed and rolled on his side, an arm curved over Jimin’s waist. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but—like, wouldn’t it be weird?”
“For you?”
“Not for me, for you.” Jungkook looked him in the eyes and said, “Jimin-hyung, aren’t you in love with him?”
And Jimin had smiled, pressed a kiss to his mouth and told him, “He’s not the only one I love.”
Jungkook hadn’t replied. He never does.
He’s a coward, he’s just a coward, he’s so scared of losing everything, everyone.
“And he said he’d like to meet you as well,” Jimin had added in the end. “I mean—it’s not like he’s in love with me. He just wants to make me feel good, and I think this would be fun for us all.”
And yeah, sure. Yoongi does like making people feel good, it’s what he does as a living. People pay him to make them feel good, to slap the pleasure in them.
Jimin doesn’t pay him though.
Jungkook doesn’t either.
Jungkook also guesses Yoongi doesn’t kiss his clients goodnight after he’s done with them.
So— it’s complicated.
That never stops Jungkook from going to see Yoongi whenever he gives him a call or has a free Wednesday.
Especially if Jimin is also involved.
Yoongi’s house is like Yoongi: simple, minimal, comfortable.
Today, when Yoongi opens the door for him, his hair is straight and messy, like a certain someone played with it for too long, and the white shirt he wears falls huge on him, making his shoulders look even broader than usual.
“Hey,” Yoongi says, voice low. He never raises it. Like, ever. “Come in. How are you?”
“I’m alright, hyung.” Jungkook crouches and starts taking off his shoes. “You?”
“Mh. I’m fine,” he replies after a pause. “Wanna shower?”
“Yeah, actually.” Jungkook frowns at the laces of his left shoe; they’re all tangled. “Told you, had to run to catch the subway. I think I smell awful. Is hyung—”
The rest of his sentence gets cut off by Yoongi’s lips pressing, very gently, against his. By the lightest pressure of Yoongi’s fingertips under his chin as he holds him still.
Yoongi straightens up with a sigh, eyes sharp as he says, “Go shower, Jungkook-ah. I can’t deal with that brat by myself any longer.”
Then, Yoongi leaves, disappearing behind the corridor, a door opening and closing.
Jungkook, left alone with his stupid tangled shoelaces, realizes this might be that kind of night.
Jungkook showers and then stands in front of the closed door for entire minutes, feeling like an idiot.
His bare feet are cold on the wooden floor, shivers crawling up his legs and damn, Jungkook gets it that Yoongi is all about the environment and not using too much heat, but Jungkook needs to mentally prepare himself and he’s standing here with only a stupidly large black sweater on.
Whenever he comes over, Yoongi always leaves something for him to wear in the bathroom. It’s always either too big or something that covers absolutely nothing. Jungkook won’t judge someone’s kinks but whatever.
“Fuck it,” he murmurs to himself before taking a deep breath and knocking.
Yoongi’s voice comes after a few moments, telling him to come in.
Jungkook does. He almost chokes the second he’s inside.
Yoongi has a room where they fuck. It’s a thing.
“You wanna keep the sex vibes out of the bedroom,” he always says. “Can’t sleep if I can still smell you.”
And it’s an easy enough room if you pointedly ignore the number of sex toys Yoongi has carefully organized on various shelves.
Jungkook is also very pointedly trying to ignore Jimin. Not the easiest feat, though, not when Jimin is bent over the bed with a vibrator deep in his ass and his dick inside a fleshlight.
He definitely just walked into a punishment.
Yoongi, though, doesn’t seem to care. Hell, he’s not even looking at Jimin, gazing at Jungkook instead.
“Come here,” he says from where he’s sitting on an armchair, legs crossed on top of the seat.
Jungkook quickly makes his way to him, then halts when Yoongi’s mouth curves into an amused grin. “Door, Jungkook-ah.”
Right.
Face burning, Jungkook walks back and closes the door before actually making his way to Yoongi. Wordlessly, Jungkook kneels in front of the armchair, hands held in his lap.
“That was cute,” Yoongi says like it’s an afterthought, chin held on the back of his hand. “That eager?”
Jungkook presses his lips together and stays quiet.
This is not his first rodeo with Yoongi. He hasn’t been given permission to speak yet, so he won’t.
He’s not sure he wants to end up like Jimin. Not tonight, at least.
Yoongi looks at him for a while, then reaches out to stroke his cheek. “You look really pretty tonight.”
Jungkook sighs, leaning into the touch. This is so nice already. It’s easy to fall in the right headspace with Yoongi, lulled along by the man’s calm voice and slow words.
From the bed, Jimin makes a noise. It’s quiet, barely there, close to a whine. Yoongi catches it though.
“You shut up,” Yoongi says, voice holding the same level of soft firmness. “And stop moving. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you fucking into that toy like a bitch in heat.”
Well.
Jungkook’s fingers fist the fabric of his sweater, cock twitching between his legs.
Jimin hums, face pressed into the mattress. “‘m sorry—”
“I don’t care.” Yoongi looks down at Jungkook. “Told you he was being greedy today. What about you? Are you gonna be greedy?”
Jungkook shakes his head.
“No, you’re gonna be good. You always are.” Yoongi trails his fingers along Jungkook’s jaw, then to his mouth, pressing there slightly. “Open.”
Jungkook’s lips part easily, eyes fluttering as Yoongi pushes two fingers inside, pushing down his tongue.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Yoongi says, so quietly Jungkook wonders if Jimin can hear him. “You’re going to have to be a bit patient today since I’m not done with your hyung yet. In the meantime, would you like to have your mouth full?”
Jungkook nods. Maybe a bit too quickly. He still has half a mind of being ashamed of his own eagerness, and feels himself blushing.
Yoongi smiles at him, then pulls his fingers out and lowers his legs, sitting a bit more straight in the armchairs. Jungkook is quick to fit himself between Yoongi’s knees, hands quickly working through Yoongi’s belt and the buttons of his loose, dark trousers. He palms at Yoongi’s crotch for a moment, feeling him already hard under his boxers, then pulls Yoongi’s cock out and quickly wraps his mouth around it.
“There you go,” Yoongi sighs. “Good boy.”
Jungkook hums, carefully swallowing Yoongi down until his jaw aches and, slowly, he rests his head on Yoongi’s thigh, keeping his erection in his mouth without moving.
The moment Yoongi realized that Jungkook didn’t just like sucking dick, that he simply enjoyed having his mouth full of something, this became something Jungkook started looking forward to.
So now he closes his eyes, lets Yoongi’s fingers card through his hair and enjoys the feeling of ease that comes with it; body looser, his own pleasure forgotten for now.
Plus, like this he can just indulge a bit and stare at Yoongi.
“How are you doing over there?” Yoongi asks.
After a beat of silence, Jimin grits out, “Fine.”
“Yeah? Is that why you’re shaking?”
“I’m fine.”
Jungkook fights off a shiver. Jimin’s voice is fucking sharp steel, low and rough, the same tone he uses to tell Jungkook he’s being a slut. But knowing that, right now, it comes from a place of helplessness instead of control—it’s kind of doing things for him.
“‘s that so?” Yoongi fixes a lock of hair behind Jungkook’s ear. “If you’re fine then you can stay like that for an extra hour, right?”
At this, Jimin whines and he sounds pitiful enough that Jungkook thinks it might be genuine and not one of his extremely effective attempts at tugging at Yoongi’s heartstrings.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin says in the end. “Hyungnim, I’m sorry, I’m really close.”
“Come here, then.”
Jungkook listens to the sound of sheets moving, then to Jimin’s footsteps as he stands by his side, in front of Yoongi.
He dares a glance: Jimin’s legs look unsteady, muscles taut, and his cock is so hard inside the fleshlight Jungkook kind of wishes he had his mouth on him.
“Look at this,” Yoongi sighs, taking the fleshlight and slowly pulling it, the corners of his mouth lifting when Jimin’s knees almost buckle. “Tell me why you’re sorry, Jimin.”
“I—” Jimin, hands still held behind his back, eyes wet and mouth bitten read, says, “I’m sorry for not-not listening to you. I should have listened to you.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Yoongi pushes the fleshlight back, then pulls, slowly pumping Jimin’s dick with it.
“Ah—‘cause I was being greedy, I was—” Jimin’s breath hitches, back arching. “Hyungnim, I’m really close, I’m sorry.”
“Let’s do something about that, mh?” In one quick motion, Yoongi slides the fleshlight off Jimin’s cock.
There’s this strained, almost pained noise Jimin makes at this, his dick twitching and hips thrusting into nothing, fingers clenched behind his back. Slowly, he breathes through his nose, out his mouth, trembling where he stands.
“So you can be good too when you want,” Yoongi muses, dropping the fleshlight on the floor without a care. Then, he pats the armrest of the chair. “Come here, Jimin-ah.”
Quickly, Jimin scrambles to the chair, one knee on the cushion by Yoongi’s thigh, the other struggling to keep balance as he tries getting on the armrest. Yoongi is fast in holding Jimin’s waist, making sure he doesn’t fall.
“Easy,” he says. “You can use your arms, Jimin.”
Jungkook sighs, uncaring of the saliva drooling down his chin. Yoongi’s tone is so different now, so kind. Jungkook loves it when he’s kind to them.
Jimin finally brings his arms down, hands holding onto Yoongi’s shoulders as he props himself on the armrest, knees bent to his stomach, feet carefully resting by Yoongi’s side. “Thank you.”
“We gotta get that out of you too,” Yoongi says, his hand skimming to the small of Jimin’s back, then lower, where the vibrator still buzzes inside of him. “Can you handle it?”
Jimin nods, mouth pressed together in a tight line.
Jungkook watches as Yoongi holds the end of the toy and then, slowly, starts pulling it out. Jimin’s breath hitches, legs pulling together and hands gripping Yoongi’s shoulders tighter. The vibrator comes out eventually, black silicone shiny with slick, lube trickling between Jimin’s asscheeks, out of his hole.
Jungkook’s mouth waters and his cock throbs.
“There,” Yoongi soothes, turning off the vibrator and leaving it at the edge of the armrest, hand coming to stroke along Jimin’s hip. “Good boy, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin nods, eyes watery and a flush sitting so prettily on his cheeks. Jungkook could watch him for hours when he gets like this, all pliant and sweet.
Then, Yoongi looks back at Jungkook and smiles, fingers stroking his hair with gentle pressure. “You’re being really good too.”
The sudden praise settles warmly in Jungkook’s chest. He kneels there, uncaring of his own hard dick, mind full of Yoongi’s attention and jaw aching with the weight of him.
Wordlessly, without looking away from Jungkook, Yoongi moves his hand from Jimin’s waist to between his asscheeks.
“Ah—” Jimin flinches at the sudden feeling and from where Jungkook sits he can see his dick twitch. “Hyungim, no, I’m already so close.”
“Good, I want you to cum before we do anything else.” Yoongi pushes until Jimin’s body follows along, slowly settling on Yoongi’s thigh, one knee on the armrest and the other between Yoongi’s legs.
It can’t be comfortable, Jungkook imagines, but like this he can see Jimin’s cock, pressed between his stomach and Yoongi’s leg, precum already staining the material of Yoongi’s trousers.
Jungkook breathes in, hands closing into fists over his own lap.
He can tell when Yoongi starts fucking his fingers inside Jimin in the way Jimin’s hips falter, erection dragging on Yoongi’s pants.
“You too,” Yoongi says, looking down at Jungkook. “Make yourself cum, but your mouth stays full.”
At this, Jungkook’s hands quickly move. He reaches between his legs, under the sweater, and whines once his fist closes around his cockhead. Fuck, he’s hard. He knew he was, but he wasn’t expecting himself to be like this already, sensitive and leaking.
He really was desperate today. And in a weird mood.
Slowly, Jungkook starts stroking himself, hand closing around the tip, squeezing there. A moan startles out of him, muffled with his mouth full, but Yoongi seems to like that with how he hums, eyes dark.
Above him, Jimin has started grinding his hips wantonly, pushing against Yoongi’s fingers inside him and onto the man’s thigh, sounds still low and almost shy, face hidden in the crook of Yoongi’s neck.
Jungkook’s fist starts moving faster. He’s close, so close, and now all he wants to do is come.
“Oh, please,” Jimin whispers then, fingers tugging at Yoongi’s shirt, hips faltering. “Please, so close, hyungnim—please?”
Yoongi must be feeling generous tonight.
He starts thrusting his fingers into Jimin faster, hard enough Jimin actually cries out, and he brings his free hand to Jimin’s chest, to harshly pinch and pull at his nipple. Jimin comes without a sound at first, body locking and cum pooling on Yoongi’s pants, and then soft sounds falling out of his mouth like he just can’t help it, body losing all tension.
Just the sight of him like this is enough to send Jungkook over the edge too, coming all over his fist and legs, moaning around Yoongi’s cock, knees aching after having knelt on the ground for so long.
After a few moments, Yoongi lets out a long breath before pressing a kiss to Jimin’s shoulder where he’s curled up against him. “Off.”
Jimin nods, slowly peeling himself off the man and standing up, by Jungkook’s side.
“You too, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says with a smile. “Up you go.”
Weak legs and all, Jungkook obeys, carefully sliding his mouth off Yoongi’s length and standing up, hand brushing against Jimin’s.
With a hand, Yoongi gestures towards the bed. “Go lay there.”
Jimin is the first to move, followed quickly by Jungkook. They settle easily on the mattress, both lying down on their sides, staring at each other, breaths still coming to them ragged.
Jimin looks stunning today. Not that he doesn’t all the time, but there’s always this glow to him when it’s the three of them, a flush that just won’t leave his face even when they’re done, even when they’re just resting together.
Jungkook’s ears catch the sound of Yoongi’s footsteps as he moves in the room, but he doesn’t look away from Jimin. His eyes glance down to his mouth: has Yoongi kissed him there yet? He must have, his lips look red. But maybe that’s just because Jimin had been biting on them.
“Hyungnim,” Jimin calls suddenly.
“Mh?”
“Can I kiss him?”
“Of course you can.”
Oh.
Jungkook’s eyes close when Jimin’s hand comes to rest over his neck, and the first gentle press of Jimin’s lips draws a sigh out of him. The kiss soon becomes more urgent, deeper, Jungkook’s tongue sliding against Jimin’s, lips wet and warm.
God, this is the best. This is all he wanted, needed, after the weird week he had.
After what happened with Namjoon last weekend, he—
No, he doesn’t want to think about that. Or about the missed calls he ignored.
Just this. He wants this.
The mattress dips under a third weight. They stop kissing once Yoongi is close to them, turning to him.
He’s holding a sweater, a white one. Same model as Jungkook’s.
“Arms up,” Yoongi tells Jimin and then helps him back into the warm sweater. “You’re gonna get colder soon.”
Jimin hums, happily letting Yoongi fix the sweater down his stomach, to his thighs.
Spoiled asshole.
“You can both speak.” Yoongi kneels on the bed. “You got my e-mail, yes?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies while Jimin nods.
“And you’re both still okay with what I offered?”
Jungkook is more than okay with the contents of that e-mail. Hell, he’d been re-reading it last night and he ended up feeling so excited at the prospect that he almost got hard just imagining it.
“I am,” Jimin replies.
“Me too.”
“Alright.” Yoongi steps off the bed and goes to retrieve something from a drawer.
He looks good as new. His pants are closed all the way up again, the bulge of his hardness visible under the fabric, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Yoongi never is. Fucking crazy patience, that one, sometimes it scares the shit out of Jungkook that he can go for so long without touching himself, too busy tormenting the two of them to even think about himself.
Soon enough, Yoongi is back. He drops a bag on the bed, reaches into it and pulls out two different sets of cuffs.
“Now,” he says, amusement bright in his eyes. “Give me your wrists.”
Jungkook is starting to question his sanity.
He’s no stranger to being bound. He’s no stranger to many things, especially to everything he’s being subjected to.
It’s just that this is the first time Yoongi has bound both him and Jimin at the same time.
He’s taking turns. That’s what’s driving Jungkook mad, he reckons. The waiting. The fact that he’s both a spectator and a source of entertainment.
Yoongi bound them both at first.
Jimin’s wrists are kept tightly together by leather cuffs that cover his skin up to his elbows, padded and unyielding. Then, Yoongi had hooked the cuffs’ chain to the ring on top of the headboard and Jimin had found himself trapped like that, back arched and fully exposed.
Then, it was Jungkook: looser handcuffs, connected by a short chain. He can freely move his arms, and at first he found it weird that Yoongi had given him so much leeway. That was until Yoongi had pulled out the collar and leash.
Jungkook has worn a collar only once, and it was with Hoseok. It wasn’t a serious collar, not one that called for loyalty, not one that symbolized exclusiveness. Jungkook doesn’t do that. It was more for fun, because Hoseok liked tugging at it and Jungkook enjoyed the feeling of it.
Which was exactly what he told Yoongi the last time they met. And Yoongi didn’t comment on it, only asked if Jungkook liked it.
Turns out he’s got a good memory.
Then the turns started.
Jungkook first, who found himself whining and writhing much earlier than he had expected, fingered open roughly by Yoongi and then stuffed full with a thick buttplug that keeps pressing in the same perfect spot no matter how he lays.
Then, Jimin. Jimin, who has been edged six times, twitching and shaking on the bed, his cock hard again and wet with lube, arms straining against the cuffs. It took those six failed orgasms for Yoongi to be satisfied with him, pulling out another plug and pushing it inside Jimin, who soon found himself squirming and moaning once the toy started vibrating against his walls.
Jungkook, once more.
He feels like this one was just Yoongi feeling mean.
Yoongi played with his chest for what felt like hours. Fingers, tongue, teeth, nails. Whatever he had just to have Jungkook crying out and teary-eyed, nipples red and swollen, cock bouncing untouched over his abdomen. Once Yoongi realized that even a single puff of breath against them was enough to make Jungkook whine, he taped two small egg vibrators to Jungkook’s nipples and turned them on, humming in satisfaction when Jungkook screamed, and curled up on the bed.
“Why do I feel like this might make you come?” Yoongi asked.
“It-it won’t.”
“It did once.”
“I’ll be g-good, promise.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Which is how Jungkook is now bound, plugged, and has a cock ring tight at the base of his erection.
“Fuck,” Jungkook whispers, fingers grasping the bedsheets, chest burning as the two vibrators keep going. “Fuck, fuck.”
Fine, his stamina isn’t great. Jimin’s the one who can last hours, not him. He gets it.
He’d be fine if it was just this.
The thing is, it’s not his turn anymore. It’s Jimin’s.
And Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off the scene in front of him.
Another crack resounds in the air as the flogger lands on Jimin’s thigh. Jimin cries out, toes curling, chest heaving. Yoongi drags the flogger’s tails over Jimin’s stomach, up to his chest, where the sweater has been hunched up. As he moves it down, Jimin’s body follows, almost subconsciously, arching and shifting; he gasps when the tips of the tails trail over his cock.
Yoongi brings the flogger back, lands it on the same spot as before, brings it back immediately and holds it away from Jimin, staring.
“Thank you,” Jimin gasps.
Jungkook swallows, fingers pressing at his own mouth. He’s started rubbing his thighs together, trying to relieve the building pressure of his cock. The ring isn’t helping. Nothing is. He’s burning with want, and there’s a part of him who almost wants to reach beneath his sweater, to the vibrators taped to his nipples to—to push them, to play with them more, so that it hurts more.
And he wants—he wants to touch Jimin. To lick him, to swallow his cock down while Yoongi flogs him, to hear him scream.
Fuck, he wants to do so much.
But Yoongi’s order for both of them was clear: Watch. Wait for your turn.
Jungkook watches, feeling warm, feeling taut, as Yoongi brings the flog down again, to the softer skin of Jimin’s inner thigh. He watches as Jimin’s eyes go wide, as his cock twitches and his body trembles, a moan of pain and pleasure drawing on, filthy, lovely.
Yoongi breathes in, eyes mapping the marks blooming over Jimin’s skin. He rubs over them with his knuckles, soft and careful, humming when Jimin thanks him again.
In Yoongi’s free hand, there’s the end of Jungkook’s leash.
A thought comes to his mind then: if he pulled— if he just moved a bit, to pull the leash taut, what would happen?
Another crack, the flogger landing on the same spot, rendering Jimin soundless, mouth gaping and tears catching at his lashes.
Jungkook waits for Yoongi to bring the flogger away from Jimin's body before he moves, rolling on his back until the leash goes straight in midair and the collar digs into his neck.
In a moment, Yoongi’s eyes are on him.
There’s a moment of stillness, where they just stare at each other. Then Yoongi clicks his tongue and tugs.
Jungkook finds himself pulled along, almost dragged on the bed until he quickly scrambles on all fours.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Yoongi asks, voice calm. “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”
He might have just messed up.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook replies. “Was—was uncomfortable.”
“Were you uncomfortable or were you acting like a brat?”
“I—”
“Shut up.” Yoongi nods towards the bed. “Lay there. I’ll deal with you later.”
Oh?
Did he make Yoongi mad?
Slowly, Jungkook lays back down, stifling a moan when the plug inside him presses at a different angle as he moves.
He never made Yoongi mad before. That’s Jimin’s job, being the brat he is. But Jungkook? He’s always good to Yoongi.
This is the first time he might be punished.
The thought should not make his cock throb like this, but that’s an issue for later.
Now, Yoongi focuses back on Jimin. He lands three more hits on Jimin’s thigh, the third one harsher than the others and Jimin suddenly arches off the bed, thighs pushing together as he gasps, “Wait.”
Yoongi pushes him back down on the bed, hand pressed on his abdomen. “Ssht, you’re alright.”
Jimin whines, hips rutting into nothing, cock twitching, untouched and wet. “Hyungnim—”
“Give me your color.”
“I—” Jimin closes his eyes, lips pressing together for a moment. “Green.”
“You sure?”
“I just need to breathe, I’m fine, we can keep going.”
Yoongi looks at him for a moment, then at the watch on his wrist. He puts the flogger away and leans down, to press a kiss to the red area of Jimin’s thigh. “No, it’s enough for now. You did well.”
Jimin relaxes at this, body laying pliant and loose on the bed, his breath coming to him steadier now.
Yoongi turns to Jungkook instead.
Jungkook thinks that what he always found more attractive about Yoongi was the way he looks at people: he’s not big, nor that intimidating. He’s a pretty man with the loveliest mouth and a desire to care for others Jungkook had never found in anyone else.
But his eyes— they hold control. Of himself, of others. There has always been a way to how Yoongi carried himself, one that screamed confidence.
Jungkook loves that.
He loves being stared at by him, even now that he might be in trouble.
Actually, especially now.
“On your hands and knees,” Yoongi says, letting go of the leash and then reaching back inside the bag.
Jungkook is quick to oblige and even manages not to moan when the plug shifts inside of him.
He’s got this.
“Towards the edge of the bed, Jungkook.”
When did Yoongi even get off the bed? Still, Jungkook does as he’s told, crawling back until his toes can feel the end of the mattress.
Yoongi stands just behind him and, without a word, he reaches between Jungkook’s legs and grabs his cock. “Look how hard you got.”
Jungkook bites down his bottom lip, swallowing a noise as Yoongi roughly kneads the tip of his dick.
“Did you get off misbehaving?”
“No.” Jungkook swallows, staring at his hands where they dip into the soft duvet.
“Then why did you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought you were going to be good today. That you weren’t going to be greedy.” Yoongi sighs, pulling Jungkook’s cock back and then letting it go, so that it slaps against his belly. “Maybe Jimin’s a bad influence, mh?”
“It’s not—” Jungkook swallows, mouth dry. “It’s not hyung’s fault.”
Yoongi doesn’t reply to him.
Instead, he lets something trace the back of Jungkook’s thighs. At the sudden feeling of soft leather, Jungkook’s toes curl, thighs pushing together.
“Spread them open,” Yoongi tells him then, voice firm, calm.
Jungkook obliges.
He’s going to be whipped.
Last time something like this happened, it was also with Yoongi. Jungkook had come without permission the moment Yoongi had started fucking him, making a mess of the pretty shirt Yoongi had given him and whining apology after apology as cum dripped along his cock.
The punishment hadn’t been as harsh as he expected. Five hits on his asscheeks.
What Jungkook also hadn’t expected, was enjoying the punishment so fucking much.
He hears Yoongi taking a long breath, and feels the tip of the riding crop dragging over the plug in his ass, down to his dick. Jungkook swallows, a wave of heat and expectation rushing to him in shivers.
“Tell me why I’m punishing you.”
“Because I disobeyed.”
“And?”
Jungkook frowns. “I don’t—”
“You acted like a greedy slut, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s cheeks are burning. “I did.”
“I’ll hit you ten times, and you’re going to count for me.”
Jungkook whispers a yes. Behind him, Yoongi hums.
Jungkook hears the crop moving then, the sound of air being cut, and he tenses in anticipation but the hit never lands. Not on him, at least.
Yoongi hit himself. His thigh, probably. To test how much it’s going to hurt.
Jungkook hears him hissing and he has to hide a smile behind his wrist. God, he’s still so careful. They’ve been at it for long enough by now that Yoongi could just go for it, really, Jungkook wouldn’t complain. But no, his hyung is like that, careful to the point of paranoia.
The fact that Yoongi still worries, still tests things for them, shouldn’t have Jungkook blushing like this, nor have his chest go tight and warm.
It shouldn’t. He can’t allow himself to.
“I’ll start,” Yoongi says.
Jungkook shuts his eyes closed.
The first hit doesn’t hurt. Not really, at least.
Granted, Yoongi didn’t hit him as hard as he could have, but it usually never hurts as much as the rest. Skin is still unblemished, the sensation is new.
Still, Jungkook winces as the crop’s thin, floppy end lands on his asscheek, wrapping against the skin, stinging like a bitch.
“One,” Jungkook breathes out.
Jungkook hears the crop coming, and then feels it. The same spot, the same sensation, just stronger, lingering where it burns. Jungkook’s ass clenches, a startled moan punched out of him as he tightens around the plug inside him.
He fucking forgot about that.
“Two,” Jungkook gasps.
Yoongi says, “Bring your sweater up.”
Jungkook does as quickly as he can, whining quietly when the fabric catches on the vibrators taped to his nipples. Once the sweater it’s hunched high enough, Jungkook gets in position again. He startles slightly when Yoongi starts gently tapping the crop’s tip over his back, his hips. It doesn’t hurt, not at all, but it’s—it’s the promise of something more. It’s the stimulus of it, warming up the skin, making him wish for more.
All at once, Yoongi brings the crop down his asscheek again, this time harder, on the same spot as before.
“Ah—three.” Jungkook’s fingers grasp the bedsheets. Quickly, the crop comes down again. “F-four.”
“Ass up.”
Jungkook hesitates for a moment, then stops holding himself up on his elbows. He lets his chest sink into the mattress, the side of his face laying on the soft sheets and his bound hands rest beneath his stomach. Like this, he also has to spread his legs wider or else he’d fall.
“All open for me,” Yoongi says quietly, dragging the tip of the crop along the length of his cock, up to the tip. “All wet, too.”
Jungkook feels a whine of shame bubbling up in his chest. He’s been leaking all over his cock the moment Yoongi had started torturing his chest and he’s been so on edge this entire time, Yoongi can’t blame him if he’s pent up.
When Yoongi brings the crop down, smacking it against his ass once more, Jungkook’s hips jump, cock twitching as he clenches around the plug.
“Five, fuck—”
“Look at Jimin.”
Oh.
Jungkook does, neck aching in his position as he lifts his chin and locks eyes with Jimin.
Jungkook has the sharp feeling that, was he not bound, Jimin would be fucking him senseless right now.
Chest rising and falling quickly, cock laying hard over his belly, Jimin stares at him with his lips parted and his face flushed, bruised thighs rubbing together.
Fuck, Jungkook wants them to ruin him.
Slowly, Yoongi rests the cane of the riding crop just beneath his asscheeks, tapping it lightly. Jungkook tenses at this, hot fear coiling low in his groin.
Yoongi doesn’t use canes, does he? He’s never liked them. He wouldn’t use the crop as a cane, Jungkook knows this, but still—
“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, tapping the length of the crop faster. “Apologize to Jimin for interrupting him earlier.”
The moment Jungkook opens his mouth, the crop’s tip lands harshly against his ass again, startling a moan out of him.
“Ah— six— I’m s-sorry.”
“Again.”
“Hyung, I’m sorry for interrupting you earlier.” Jungkook cries out when Yoongi brings the crop down once more. “Seven!”
Yoongi hums, patting the abused area lightly. The pain is sharp now, stinging and lingering no matter how long Yoongi goes without hitting him again, and it has Jungkook squirming on the bed, cock throbbing and needy. He wants to touch himself so bad it’s starting to drive him restless.
“Eight,” Jungkook gasps once another hit lands, eyes burning. “I’m sorry.”
Jimin swallows, arms straining against his restraints. “Are you?”
“I am, I really—oh!” Jungkook’s entire body flinches at the next hit, fingers wrenching at the bedsheets. “Nine, fuck, I-I think I’m close.”
“Are you going to come?” Yoongi asks. “From what?”
Before Jungkook can answer, Yoongi suddenly grabs him by the air, tugging until Jungkook’s face is pulled from the bed, neck aching at the strain.
“From the plug?” Yoongi breathes by his ear, body pressed to Jungkook’s back. “Or from these?”
Jungkook swallows a sob when Yoongi taps with the crop over his nipples, on top of the vibrators, chest burning.
“Or is it going to be from the pain, Jungkook-ah?” Yoongi bites at his earlobe, ignoring Jungkook’s cry of pain. “Answer.”
“Pain,” Jungkook gasps, shame hot on his face. “It-it burns. Feels good.”
“Of course it does.” Yoongi lets go of his hair, staring as Jungkook’s body trembles. “Jimin is right when he says you’re a painslut.”
Jungkook whimpers, eyes closing as the riding crop rubs over the curve of his ass.
“Take your punishment well, Jungkook,” Yoongi says as he repositions himself again behind him. “And you’ll get to come.”
Another series of light taps is all the warning Jungkook gets before the last hit lands on his skin. His back arches, thighs trembling as the pain burns into him, cock twitching and leaking.
“Ten,” Jungkook whispers. “Ten, it’s—it’s ten.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes. He brings a hand to stroke the red, sensitive skin, where bruises are showing up. “Good boy.”
Jungkook whispers a thank you as Yoongi shuffles behind him, putting the riding crop away.
“Take the vibrators off of you,” Yoongi says from somewhere in the room. “Then I want you between Jimin’s legs. Keep him company for a moment.”
Peeling the tape off is a little bit like torture, but the relief he feels once the vibrators are finally off his skin is enough for Jungkook to let out a quiet moan. He dares a glance at his chest and swallows at the sight of his swollen, red nipples. Carefully, he slides the sweater down and then manages to make his way to Jimin; he lays on his side, head resting on Jimin’s thigh.
Jungkook’s eyes roam over him for a while: the skin on Jimin’s legs is so red after Yoongi’s had his fun with him, with darker streaks where the flogger’s tails caught. Jungkook wonders if his ass looks like that as well.
“Stop staring,” Jimin says in a quiet voice, cheeks and neck flushed a rich color.
In response, Jungkook leans in to lick a stripe along Jimin’s hip bone, then down, teeth closing where hip meets thigh, skin supple and giving. Jimin sighs, relaxing slightly. Jungkook keeps on mouthing wherever he can get to, a bit intoxicated with the smell of him and the taste of Jimin’s skin. He wishes he could just suck on Jimin’s cock, but he has a feeling Yoongi wouldn’t like that.
Behind him, the mattress dips. Jungkook hums once Yoongi’s hand rests on his waist, fingers trailing gently to the small of his back. And between his asscheeks, all at once, grabbing the end of the plug and pulling.
“Hyung,” Jungkook gasps, scrambling to get on his knees.
“Don’t move.” Yoongi pushes the plug back inside him, then out. “Stay like that.”
Jungkook nods, sliding his knees higher so that Yoongi has a better angle to fuck him with the plug. He’s been holding onto that thing for so long, and now Yoongi keeps pulling it far enough that his ass stretches around it, aches with it, only to then thrust it back inside, angling it so that with each push there’s white pleasure washing through Jungkook’s body.
“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says, slowly tugging at the plug. “You want to come, yes?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers, holding his breath as his ass clenches around the larger part of the plug.
“Wanna be full?”
“Yes, please.”
“Good.” Yoongi pulls the plug out of him in one, sharp movement, humming in satisfaction when Jungkook whines at the emptiness, at the lube sliding out of his hole and between his thighs. “Jimin, fuck his mouth.”
Oh.
Jungkook is quick to climb up a bit higher on the bed, so that he can wrap his mouth around Jimin’s cock and take it deep, down to his throat. At this, Jimin moas high, thighs clamping around Jungkook’s head. It must feel overwhelming, being swallowed down so abruptly after having been neglected for so long.
But Jungkook doesn’t have time to have pity.
Yoongi’s hands, large and strong, spread his asscheeks and suddenly, Jungkook is full.
He moans, garbled and deep, the sound muffled by Jimin’s cock, who has started pushing into him in messy thrusts, hips moving without rhythm, blindly chasing pleasure in the heat and tightness of Jungkook’s mouth.
And Yoongi is so good at fucking him, always has been. He fucks deep, and hard, cock hard and pressing where Jungkook is the most sensitive, hands pinning his hips down onto the mattress, cock trapped between his belly and the blankets.
“So good,” Yoongi hisses, snapping his hips forward. “Such a good hole.”
Jungkook whines. He is good, isn’t he? A good toy, a good hole, good to be fucked and used, that’s what he likes best.
Jimin starts picking up speed, fucking into Jungkook’s mouth as he matches Yoongi’s thrusts and it’s perfect, it’s fucking bliss, to be so full, to barely breathe through the pleasure, the pain.
“Please,” Jimin moans, voice thin. “Please, can I come?”
Yoongi fucks into Jungkook harder, faster. “Come in his mouth.”
Jungkook keens, relaxes his jaw as much as he can and then Jimin is coming, hips frantic as he rides his orgasm, cock twitching and releasing in Jungkook’s mouth.
“Good boy, swallow it,” Yoongi says, voice rough, heavy.
And Jungkook does, head full of Yoongi’s praise, body thrumming as Yoongi just keeps going, perfect with every thrust, keeping Jimin’s cock in his mouth even when cum is dribbling down his chin and Jimin starts squirming, whining when it gets too much.
“Up.”
Jungkook doesn’t move immediately, but when Yoongi tugs at his collar again he gets the message. Body heavy, he manages to get on all fours, but Yoongi has other plans. He maneuvers Jungkook until he’s bracing Jimin’s hips with his legs, his neck with his bound arms. Yoongi fucks him like that, as he holds onto Jimin and rubs his sensitive cock against the soft expanse of Jimin’s belly, too blissed out to do anything except take it.
“You made a mess.” Yoongi grabs his chin, then says, “Jimin, clean it up.”
Jungkook feels Jimin’s tongue lapping at his chin, then licking at his lips. He looks at him. “Kiss me?”
“Fuck.” Jimin leans in and does as he’s asked, mouth warm and wet.
Ah, Jungkook likes how Jimin kisses him. He wishes they could kiss all the time, Jimin is always so intense when they do this. He bets that if Jimin’s arms were free he’d hold him, and touch him.
Jungkook also wishes he wasn’t so fucked out, because kissing Jimin back is proving to be a challenge with the way Yoongi’s cock is thrusting into him. All he can really do is moan against Jimin’s mouth, around his tongue, drooling and making even more mess.
“Wanna cum, Jungkook-ah?” Yoongi asks him, arms tight around Jungkook’s body. “Hyung’s gonna me you cum.”
Jungkook almost wants to say no.
He wants this to never end. He wants Yoongi to fuck him even harder, and then he wants Jimin’s cock to fuck him again, until he’s nothing except his body, his pleasure.
But then Yoongi is sliding the cock ring off his dick and his hand wraps around him, slick and tight, stroking him fast; Jungkook cums like that, all over Jimin’s stomach and Yoongi’s fist, crying out so loud his throat hurts, ass clenching around Yoongi’s cock.
His legs give out on him, and he ends up pressed against Jimin, speaking nonsense as Yoongi doesn’t stop and keeps using him, fucking into him faster, harder, chasing his own release and—
God, this is the only thing he needs.
“Thank you,” he moans, tears catching on his lashes when Jimin presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “So good, ‘s so good—”
When Yoongi comes, he buries deep inside Jungkook, holding him so tight it almost hurts, a moan muffled in the crook of Jungkook’s neck.
This is all I need, Jungkook thinks, trapped between two bodies, Just the sex. It’s good enough.
For a moment, Namjoon’s face flashes in his head and he chases it away.
At one point, he’s vaguely aware that Yoongi is cleaning him up and that Jimin is holding him.
Then, there’s a warm mouth pressing against his and, as he opens his eyes, he sees Yoongi kissing Jimin as well.
“Thank you,” Yoongi tells them, quiet and so genuine it squeezes Jungkook’s chest. “You’ve been perfect. Let me take care of you two.”
When Jungkook wakes up, the bed is empty and morning light filters through the window.
He frowns at the bedsheets, a different color from the ones he was laying on earlier, but then remembers that, eventually, they moved to Yoongi’s personal bedroom.
He recalls how Jungkook really only had enough strength to accept the piece of chocolate Yoongi had pressed to his lips before falling asleep. Did they move him here?
With a groan, Jungkook rolls on his stomach. He can smell the herbal ointment Yoongi uses to soothe the bruises he leaves, when did that even happen?
“I need to work on my stamina,” Jungkook whispers to himself, then forces himself to get up.
Checking the time, he realizes he should probably get going if he wants to get home in time for lunch. He still has an essay to finish and turn in by the end of the day and he really can’t procrastinate that anymore.
Gathering his stuff, Jungkook gets dressed and walks out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.
“—we should tell him.”
Jungkook halts.
That was Jimin just talking. They’re probably in the kitchen; Jungkook could smell coffee and eggs all the way from the hallway.
Maybe he should stay for breakfast at least, Yoongi is good at cooking.
“If we tell him we’re never gonna see him again,” Yoongi replies, with his usual calm tone.
“So what, do we just keep on doing this?”
“He likes it.”
“Yeah, no shit, so do we. But hyung, we can’t keep this up. It’s not fair.”
Jungkook frowns.
Yoongi sighs. “You wanna tell Jungkook we’re in love with him? Go right ahead. See how that goes.”
Jungkook blinks.
“I get that this is hard, Jimin-ah, I know it is. But you also know how Jungkook is. If we tell him—”
“We can’t be sure about it.”
“Is this why you’re not with me yet?”
Silence.
Jungkook needs to move.
“It is, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks. “You know that I love you, right? Just as much as I love him.”
Jimin sighs. “I know.”
“And you love me too.”
“That’s—”
“And because I know you love me too I kept thinking, why is Jimin not willing to be with me? And then I got it. It’s because Jungkook doesn’t want to be with us.”
Jungkook’s feet stay planted to the floor, body like steel.
“Hyung,” Jimin murmurs. “I can’t just pick one.”
“I know.”
“If it’s not the both of you, I just can’t.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?”
“Honestly, you both are. But there’s not much I can do about it.”
“There’s plenty you can do. You can just stop seeing us.”
“No, I can’t. I tried.”
“Fuck, I—”
“Jimin-ah, as long as I get to have you, then—both of you. As long as I get to have you both like this, it’s enough. I can make it enough.”
Jungkook starts walking.
He speeds past the kitchen, ignoring the startled looks Jimin and Yoongi give him and heads to the entrance.
He needs to get out of here.
“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi calls, following after him. “Hey, don’t—there’s breakfast, eat something.”
Jungkook shakes his head and starts putting on his shoes. His fingers shake as he works through the ties. “I’m fine.”
“Jungkook.” Jimin stands by Yoongi’s side, his eyes alert. “Jungkook, what did you hear?”
Everything, he wants to say, I heard everything and Yoongi is right, I don’t want that. And I don’t want you two being miserable because of me. I don’t need any of that. I’m not made for that.
Jungkook stands up, one shoe untied, and turns to them with a smile. “Nothing. I’ll see you next time.”
His train cart is empty.
Jungkook stares blankly at the empty seats opposite to his and realizes that he put on his headphones but never pressed play on the song he had picked.
There are twelve texts from Namjoon he still hasn’t answered. Five unanswered calls. One from Seokjin. A text from Taehyung too.
This isn’t working.
He thought it could, but it’s not.
His phone buzzes. Jungkook stares at Yoongi’s name blinking on his screen and ignores it until the call falls through.
Why isn’t this working anymore?
Another notification, a text. Jungkook sighs, praying it’s not Jimin as he opens it. His chest swells with relief when he sees who it’s actually from.
HOBI-HYUNG
Hey hey are we all
set for next week?
9.06 AM, received
Screw it, Jungkook will make it work.
He needs it to work.
Of course hyung
Can’t wait
9.07 AM, sent