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If you wanna get the job (you better know who's the boss)

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Jimin and Yoongi have, by no means, a boring sex life. Ever since the two met at what has since grown to be Jimin’s favorite club- and ever since Jimin realized just how fucking loaded Yoongi is- things have escalated into something just shy of Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby status. Jimin’s friends had gawked at him when he’d informed them, but the heavy diamond studded necklace resting against his chest outweighs their questioning stares. (Especially when it’s slapping against his chest as Yoongi fucks him hard and fast from behind, holding onto the top of the headboard while the bed knocks a new set of dents into the wall.)


Yoongi calls Jimin over whenever he needs, which isn’t anywhere near as often as Jimin would like, but he isn’t about to complain when he’s leaving happily with an abundance of gifts in tow and bruises blooming from under his new expensive clothing. Jimin knows that if Yoongi weren’t as busy as he is, Jimin would essentially be a permanent fixture in Yoongi’s penthouse. As it is, he’s already got a special section in Yoongi’s spare closet. Of course, that section is usually just where Yoongi stores the things he’s bought for Jimin until the latter comes over, but that doesn’t mean Jimin hasn’t left enough clothes over the weeks to need somewhere to put them.


Jimin still has his job as a dancer, but his salary has since increased tenfold because Yoongi got him a job as a personal entertainer, dancing for Yoongi and his friends after Jimin admitted to working at the club he’d picked Yoongi up at. It wasn’t in Jimin’s original list of ‘jobs to have in college’, but after careful consideration- aka an eyeful of Jongin and Minseok’s paychecks- it was quickly added and ranked number one. He’d been working at the college solely as a part-time dance instructor and choreographer for kids with an interest in hip hop, but if he’s being totally honest, the money he makes at that job isn’t enough to do more than keep himself fed.


“Aren’t your tastes a little expensive for your pocketbook?” Yoongi drawls, fingers running through Jimin’s sex-tousled hair as he lazes away his post-orgasm high.


“Which tastes are we talking about?” Jimin grins up at Yoongi from his spot leaning against his chest, hoisting himself up and propping his hands on either side of the man’s head. He nearly purrs at the quirked eyebrow he gets.


“One of the top producers in Seoul, first off,” The man mutters, eyes trailing lower to admire his handiwork as Jimin hovers above him. “And those fancy coats I saw you eyeing earlier after we deemed yours unusable.”


That was a lie, they hadn’t deemed it anything. Yoongi, on the other hand, had. Jimin hums thoughtfully, swinging one thigh over Yoongi’s hips before lowering himself down to rest more comfortably on him.


“My pocketbook sure didn’t stop me from getting here now did it?” Jimin retorts after a moment, grin widening when Yoongi’s lips curl up in the beginnings of a smirk.


“Brat,” He rasps, leaning up to bite at Jimin’s lip. “What do you say we help you line your wallet then, huh? Clearly you’re worth quite a bit,” Yoongi grips the younger’s chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Why not let daddy give you… an allowance of sorts. You’re not a prostitute, so I won’t be paying you per visit necessarily, but we can arrange to help you live like you’re sitting- in the lap of luxury.”


Jimin grinds down on said lap and smiles into the bruising kiss he receives in return.

Yoongi keeps his promise, of course, treating Jimin to dinner and a new Versace wool blazer. Jimin gapes at the logo for as long as he can with Yoongi’s lips grazing the skin of his neck.


“Keep up with me tonight, Jiminnie, and you’ll get the other half of that suit.”


Jimin moans so loudly he’s sure all of Seoul can hear him, thighs shaking and knees slipping on the sheets while Yoongi’s hips rock into him mercilessly. His knuckles are white where they’re gripping the silk-covered pillows, body burning with need and want when Yoongi bites down hard on his shoulder and tells him to fucking beg for it.


There’s a please on his lips for every tooth mark left in sunkissed skin, voice breaking and pitching sharply until he’s no longer coherent enough to bother forming words. Yoongi licks at the shell of his ear, biting on the lobe and tugging at his piercing until Jimin keens. The older growls from somewhere deep in his chest when Jimin braces himself on the headboard, using the last of his strength to meet Yoongi’s thrusts.


Later, when Jimin tries to get up to go to the bathroom, he nearly falls over trying to stand on legs he’s certain have turned to jelly with how weak they are. He shoots a half-hearted glare at Yoongi, who shouldn’t be laughing given that he knows he’d be walking the exact same way.


“Baby don’t give me that look, you sure earned your keep tonight.”

Jimin nearly forgets about Yoongi’s offer for a new job, pushing it to the back of his mind until Yoongi informs him that he’s got some friends coming to the club, and that it’d be in his best interest not to keep them waiting. Jimin squints at Yoongi over his sunglasses, borrowed from the stash Yoongi keeps in his room.


“You were serious about that?”


“You want to make money, don’t you?” Yoongi leans over and presses a kiss to Jimin’s lips, licking at the top one before pulling away. “Give my friends a nice little show and we’ll see just how many big bills you come outta here with.”  


Jimin’s never gotten such good tips.


Hoseok and Taehyung tip the best, Jimin realizes, because they’re the two who like to get the most handsy and Jimin’s gotten permission from Yoongi to charge whatever he wants. If he’s being honest, he loves the feeling of their hands on his skin- however brief the touches he allows are- almost as much as he likes feeling heated stares burning into him harder with every flex and twist.


He loves the way Hoseok shoots him a smirk that doesn’t meet his eyes, the kind that makes his thighs twitch and his tongue drag along his lips because Hoseok’s eyes narrow in a silent promise. Jimin absolutely longs to feel those hands graze the backs of his thighs by the time Hoseok finally does, and despite the way he doesn’t let them linger, the heat left behind is lingering enough.


He loves how Hoseok’s body coils in anticipation when Jimin strips off his loose mesh shirt, body-glitter accenting his abs and chest as they twist and roll for him. Hoseok will give him a grin when he drops down to the floor, facing Hoseok as he slowly lays back and spreads his legs, keeping his shoulders on the ground as he rotates his hips upwards. He bites his lip at Hoseok, trying not to pout despite the blush on his cheeks when he notices how smug the man looks.


Jimin drags his hands up his body, tongue swirling around the index and middle fingers of one hand when it reaches his mouth. He runs the other through his hair and rolls onto his stomach, turning around so he’s not looking at Hoseok when he lifts his torso and snaps his hips downwards. Jimin hears Hoseok lean forward before he looks over his shoulder, a twinge of satisfaction in his gut at how Hoseok’s eyes are trained on his ass.


As Hoseok is leaving for the night, he beckons Jimin closer. When the younger is close enough, Hoseok places a hand on the small of his back, a pompous smirk on his heart-shaped lips.


“If Yoongi ever lets you do more than just private dances, give me a call. I’ll pay you better than he does,” Hoseok gives him a onceover, amusement twinkling in his eyes when Jimin sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re missing out.”


Jimin finds a business card tucked in between a total of 1 million in won slid between his ass and the band of his underwear. Jung Hoseok. He hums to himself as he weighs the thick paper in his hand, wondering if Hoseok’s credit card feels as heavy.


Yoongi is unimpressed, to say the least, when Jimin places the card into his hand that night.


“Your friend says he can pay me better.” He announces conversationally.


“Is that so.” Yoongi’s voice is low as he walks Jimin backwards into the wall. “Do you really think I’d just let him waltz in and play with my favorite toy if I thought he could buy you off of me?”


Jimin considers this. “Maybe he’s good at talking his way into things, like you are.”


“Maybe,” Jimin licks his lips as Yoongi nuzzles the pulse point in his neck. “Jung Hoseok should consider being good at not fucking touching what’s mine instead.”


Yoongi sends him to work the next day with enough hickeys to have his coworkers raising their eyebrows.


Taehyung is just as good as Hoseok, all self-confident and self-important, sitting with his legs spread in an open invitation. Jimin likes grinding on Taehyung the most, because Taehyung’s mask never breaks. He’s spoiled and dropping money Jimin would call daddy’s money, if he didn’t know that Taehyung was the daddy in any given situation.


Taehyung who eyes him like he’s one of those lollipops he likes to stick between Jimin’s thick lips every once in a while. He’ll let Jimin watch him unwrap it, sometimes sucking on it first before he smears the sticky-sweet treat along Jimin’s bottom lip. Jimin just grins at him, tutting but letting his mouth fall open, tonguing the edge of Taehyung’s finger as he does so. He’ll kiss and suck at the lollipop as he brackets his thighs around Taehyung’s chair, holding tight as he leans back. Jimin loves the way Taehyung has to clench his fists at his sides when Jimin is laying back completely, ass grinding down slowly as he arches his back, building into a full length body roll.


Taehyung whose breath catches in his throat when Jimin braces his arms on either side of Taehyung’s head as he moves his body to the low thrum of the bass, when Jimin’s locked eyes with him and knows Taehyung feels small. Knows he likes it. These are the nights when Taehyung will tuck a few extra bills into Jimin’s pants, a silent request to get them off that Jimin more than willingly complies to. Jimin thumb at the edges of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping before he’s even off of Taehyung. Jimin grins at Taehyung when he snaps the band on his underwear, EAT ME printed in bold white lettering on the back.


Jimin fights back a laugh when Taehyung sucks in a breath through his teeth, trying not to touch as Jimin works his best asset.


The reason he charges so much, however, is because nothing quite turns him on like money.


Yoongi is more than aware of this, which is why after Jimin has essentially bathed in the money his friends carelessly fling and sometimes very carefully tuck, Jimin’s always toted back to his penthouse and gets to take a ride that makes him purr louder than Yoongi’s mercedes. He'll let Yoongi sit back and relax while he does all the work, grinning down at the older man smugly when he notices the hands placed on his hips tightening. Jimin fucks himself on Yoongi's cock until his world is narrowed down to nothing but the heat under his skin, in his stomach and smoldering in Yoongi's gaze. Yoongi ends up sleeping like a baby after three or so rounds when Jimin’s made particularly good money, and the latter doesn’t usually wake up until there’s a whimper crawling out of sleep swollen lips at the feeling of wet heat around his length.


Jeongguk tends to get away with tipping less, though he spends more than Hoseok and Taehyung both because he convinces Yoongi to give him more time with Jimin one on one. Jimin loves these times because Jeongguk fronts like he’s dark and brooding, all kohl rimmed eyes and expensive suits, but Jimin knows better. Jimin knows better because whenever he draws closer, whenever he circles Jeongguk and rumbles low in his chest to sit down, baby boy, Jeongguk flushes a deep red and does as he’s told. He looks up at Jimin with doe-eyes and Jimin stares him down through hooded ones, bracketing the man in as he straddles him.


Don’t touch, Jimin teases, and Jeongguk will exhale shakily and his fists will clench, just watch. Jimin knows by the slight stutter in the following groan that he intimidates the fuck out of Jeongguk and he loves it. He loves the mix of anticipation and the subtle ways Jeongguk offers himself, be it the tilt of his head as he silently begs Jimin to bite down on his neck, or in the way his back arches slight enough to have his chest grazing Jimin’s. Jeongguk isn’t the type to say much, but Jimin doesn’t really need him to. The barely stifled groans are enough. Jimin knows he’s damn good at his job.


That’s why Jimin takes it up a level with Jeongguk, hands gripping hard on the chair back as he snaps his hips once, rolling them languidly after before jerking the chair to the side. The action disorients Jeongguk and Jimin grins coyly when he leans in close, grinding on Jeongguk as he murmurs a cheeky little hi baby. Jeongguk exhales hard through his nose, knuckles white where they rest on the edge of the chair and Jimin wants to coo at him. Wants to fucking ruin him.


“Cute.” He purrs when Jeongguk pants softly upon seeing Jimin drop low, face resting close enough for hot breaths to ghost Jeongguk’s crotch.


So when Jimin slams Yoongi into the wall with the force of his kisses, a rough growl working it’s way out of his throat, the older man takes it in stride. He lets Jimin tug off clothes that cost a few month’s rent, all ripping seams and popping buttons until he’s got his thighs hitched around Yoongi’s waist and he’s grinding down hard enough to have Yoongi shaking. Jimin moans louder than usual when Yoongi leaves purpling hickeys across his collarbones, expletives falling from his lips with every snap of Yoongi’s hips as he fucks Jimin hard enough to make Jimin almost think twice when he asks Yoongi is it my turn now, hyung?




And Jimin fucks Yoongi slow and hard, kissing him every time he brushes Yoongi’s prostate and the older snarls out his name like he hates him. He loves watching Yoongi tremble under his touches, lust heated skin bruising prettily where his fingers press. To his credit, Yoongi does try to contain his moans. It just doesn’t usually work when Jimin’s hand is fisted into his bangs, tugging hard as he snaps his hips, picking up the pace and murmuring in his ear what happened to always being in control? He relishes the look on Yoongi’s face when he stays close, the slight twinkle of something like intimidation dancing in his eyes. Jimin can taste the desperation as Yoongi kisses him, swallowing the older’s moans when he jackrabbits his hips in a sudden change of pace.


He slides his free hand along Yoongi’s chest, thumbing at his nipples and the bruises around them just to watch- to feel- Yoongi’s body jerk beneath him. Jimin growls without meaning to when Yoongi hooks his ankles together when his legs wrap around Jimin’s waist, pulling the former closer in an attempt to get more. He feels dizzy when Yoongi’s chants of deeper, harder, fuck me faster, fall to desperate gasps of his name as he cums.


Namjoon dominates with looks more than actions. He’ll come in wearing one of those goddamn Armani suits that make Jimin drool, heavy gold watch on his wrist to match the thick gold rings. Jimin knows Namjoon likes being in control- the more he has over Jimin, the less he has over his wallet. So Jimin enjoys the dark look Namjoon fixes him with even more as he’s crawling over, spreading Namjoon’s legs once he reaches the man’s chair.


He takes his time dragging his hands along Namjoon’s thighs, staring up through his eyelashes as he nuzzles at the fabric of his pants before rising and turning around. Jimin fixes Namjoon with a look of anything but innocence when he glances over his shoulder, bending low once again just so Namjoon can watch his back arch when he shakes his ass. Jimin backs up closer until he’s nearly touching Namjoon’s face before he drops and sits on Namjoon’s lap. He smiles coyly when Namjoon’s hand comes up to hover close to his jaw, aching to touch but not allowed to.


“Touch and it’s over,” Jimin warns softly, tongue dragging along his teeth as he moves his hips up and in.


“What if I pay more?” Namjoon’s hot breath ghosts over the skin of his neck, and Jimin purrs like the cat that got the canary.


“You couldn’t afford me, big boy.”


Yoongi rewards him for that comment later, splaying Jimin out on the hood of his Maserati Granturismo and taking his time with him. Jimin whimpers loudly when Yoongi licks and sucks down his back, nails dragging from his shoulders down to the small of his back. The man leaves him a series of bite marks on the taut muscle there, hands kneading roughly at Jimin’s ass.


“What do you want, Jiminnie,” Yoongi murmurs against his skin, hot breath mixing with the cool summer night and raising goosebumps along Jimin’s skin. “Want hyung to eat you out?”


Jimin groans and pretends he isn’t embarrassed when his hips jerk and his palms press uselessly at the car. They’re in public still no matter how hard Jimin tries to act like it doesn’t turn him on more, and the idea of someone finding them makes his stomach flip in what he thinks is probably excitement rather than fear. Maybe a mix of both. Yoongi is smirking and Jimin can feel it, he can feel it in the way Yoongi tongues at his backside, hand on the cheek his mouth isn’t occupied with. Yoongi kneads Jimin’s inner thigh just below his ass with his free hand, dragging his nail along the sensitive skin and pinching lightly.


“Please,” Jimin breathes, back arching when Yoongi’s kisses inch closer and then skip over where he wants them entirely. “Yoongi hyung please.”


“Say it and I will, Jimin. I wanna hear that pretty little voice of yours shake when you ask hyung to please eat you out. If you ask nice enough I’ll even let you cum.”


Jimin moans at that, breath fogging up the shiny hood below him. His body is shaking from arousal, blush scorching it’s way from the tips of his ears to his chest and his toes are curling in embarrassment. He opens his mouth to speak and whimpers, lip trembling as he exhales.


“Hyung please, I want you to- fuck- I need you to eat me out please, god, I want your tongue on me so badly-” His sentence cuts off abruptly at the feeling of Yoongi’s tongue sliding over his entrance. Jimin pushes his ass back against Yoongi’s face, squirming as Yoongi kneads and pushes his cheeks further apart.


“So eager,” Yoongi hums between licks, flattening his tongue. “Presenting yourself so prettily for me like this. You were fucking made for me, weren’t you baby boy. Made to take me, my cock, my fingers, even my tongue.”


Jimin’s stomach quivers as Yoongi’s tongue catches on the rim, slowly working him open. He feels spit drip along the sensitive skin there and flushes darker when Yoongi makes a low noise of approval at the way Jimin’s hole flutters. Jimin claws uselessly at the hood of Yoongi’s car torn between pulling himself away and pressing back against Yoongi.


“Think you can cum like this baby?”


(Yoongi pretends to be annoyed at how much cum Jimin gets on his previously clean car, but he certainly doesn’t complain when Jimin washes his car the next day, sudsed up and wearing nothing but the tight black shorts Yoongi bought him.)


Seokjin is all shoulders, Jimin notes as Yoongi introduces them. He’s dressed like he could buy Jimin’s family if he wanted to, a pleasant smile on his full lips as he extends a hand to Jimin. The man’s hand is warm in Jimin’s grasp, and Jimin’s knees feel a little weak at how much older Seokjin comes across. He watches the man uncross his legs and tap his fingers rhythmically against the seat he’s settled into, an expectant look on his face as Jimin gets to work.


Jimin’s mouth drops open easily when Seokjin offers him the cherry from his drink, cat-like eyes narrowing as he watches the younger. It becomes a habit for Seokjin to bring things to feed Jimin, whether it’s actual food or simply Jimin lapping whipped cream from his fingertips like a kitten, and Jimin is thoroughly intrigued. He watches Seokjin from his place on the floor, rutting his hips upwards as he tugs at the band of his leather shorts. There’s sticky cream and caramel drizzled along his skin this time around, and he doesn’t mind the uncomfortable shower later for the way Seokjin’s eyes darken when he sucks on his fingers after dragging them through the substance.


He unzips the pants, sighing softly at how the heated air feels on his skin as he starts to tug them lower, dragging the edges of his underwear down as well. Jimin grins at Seokjin, who’s eyes are trailing along the newly exposed skin, almost dangerously low. He gets up once he’s got the shorts off, crossing the small space between the two easily before dropping into a squat and bouncing there focusing on removing more of the dripping sweets from his body.


Jimin swipes a finger through a patch of caramel, smearing it along his lips before sucking the lower one into his mouth and laughing breathily. Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow at the action, shoulders squaring as he leans forward. Jimin watches idly as the stickiness slips lower to the band of his underwear- after he’s smeared it further down- this time dragging his fingertips underneath and then back up through it.


“Tastes so good,” Jimin murmurs, voice as honeyed as the candy-like toppings. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”


Nothing tastes as good as the raise in pay Jimin knows he’ll get when he sees Seokjin’s head tilt back, a shaky curse on his lips.


Jimin’s favorite dances, however, are the ones he gets to do for Yoongi. The ones where Yoongi leaves him some special items beforehand and clears his schedule for the day. Yoongi takes Jimin out to an upscale restaurant, watching Jimin eat more than actually eating himself. Jimin is hyperaware of every touch, heart thumping unevenly when Yoongi’s eyes narrow at the way the younger jumps, a smirk curling cat-like lips.


He’ll take Jimin home the long way, taking more side streets than he needs to and letting Jimin control the radio (which he barely ever gets to do). Despite the way the top of his car is down to let the wind tousle Jimin’s hair oh so nicely, the air is thick between the two. Jimin can feel the anticipation radiating off of Yoongi almost as clearly as he can feel it in his own thundering pulse.


Yoongi disappears to pour himself a drink, giving Jimin a meaningful look before he goes and Jimin knows that’s his cue to put on his other items. It’s not rare for Yoongi to ask Jimin to dress up for him, though when Yoongi asks, he isn’t requesting a tux. Instead, Jimin is fastening more leather onto himself than he would normally wear- though that isn’t exactly a stretch given his track record for generally sticking to leather pants only. He prides himself on how quickly he’s able to get into the harness this time around, given that on most of his previous tries he’s gotten twisted around with the straps.


The harness itself comes with a collar built in- it’s attached directly to the other sections of his harness directly- but Yoongi left him with a three-tier leather collar to wear on top of it, the large gold ring lead laying heavily against his collarbones. His final piece is the thick black garters, black vinyl shine a stark contrast with the velvety soft matte of his harness and the solid look of his collar. Jimin trails his fingertips along the straps crossing his chest- two coming straight down over his shoulders and over his nipples with tails that meet in a V at the center where they’re tethered to his collar and the two solid stripes across the bottom of his ribcage by a strip down the middle.


Jimin examines himself in the mirror briefly, turning around and looking at the three thick buckles resting on each of his thighs to secure the garters and admiring the contrast with his skin. He thinks the abundance of metal holds is Yoongi’s favorite part of the look, no less than one on each of his special items. Satisfied with himself and his look, Jimin pads (waddles) out to the bedroom.


Yoongi is already there, lounging comfortably on the bed with a glass in his hand, a shot glass on the nightstand beside him. He’s still dressed, Jimin notes, pulse thrumming in his ears as he realizes he gets to undress Yoongi nice and slow tonight. Yoongi beckons to Jimin with a finger, and he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed at how quickly he’s crawling up the bed.


“Do you have everything on, Jimin?”


“Yes Yoongi hyung,” Jimin’s voice is rough and a little breathy even to his own ears, bringing a light dusting of pink to his cheeks.


“Show me then baby. Show daddy that pretty ass of yours stretched so nicely around the plug I got you.”


Jimin licks his lips and turns around, scooting his knees a bit further apart and letting his torso drop to the bed. He rests the right side of his face against the blanket as he reaches around to spread his ass cheeks. He bites down on his lip as Yoongi looks him over, heat sparking deep in his gut while he waits.


“What a good boy. Such a little slut for me, taking that just like how you take my cock.”


Jimin nods, cheek rubbing against the soft material of the blanket as he does so. Yoongi takes a sip of his drink and sets it aside and Jimin can’t help the excitement that bubbles in his chest when he hears Yoongi moving closer. The man brings a hand down solidly on Jimin’s ass before pressing a sweet kiss to the stinging red skin.




Jimin draws himself up from his previous position, crawling further up the bed to straddle Yoongi. He leans in close, one hand coming to cup the side of Yoongi’s jaw as he does so. Yoongi smiles a little at him, the ghost of something mean Jimin knows he’ll be seeing later, and Jimin feels the need to kiss it away. To take it for his own. So he does.


Yoongi’s hands come to rest on Jimin’s hips as they kiss, thumbs rubbing along the exposed skin and distracting Jimin before he’s licking at the latter’s upper lip. Jimin opens his mouth willingly, deepening the kiss with practiced ease. Yoongi’s tongue drags against the roof of his mouth and behind his teeth, coaxing soft moans from Jimin, whose hips rock subtly.


One of Yoongi’s hands slides a little lower when Jimin’s fingers thread into his wind-styled hair, tugging with purpose. His muscles tighten and flex in anticipation when Yoongi’s fingers graze close to his cock, curved and almost painfully hard. Jimin bites down on Yoongi’s lip when the man passes it by carelessly, an irritated growl slipping out before he’s licking at the spot to soothe it.


Yoongi tightens his grip in retaliation, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise- fuck does Jimin hope they do- eliciting a low groan from Jimin. By the time Yoongi’s hand finally makes it’s way to Jimin’s dick, the younger is panting, lips slick and swollen.


“Yes, yes,” Jimin breathes out, leaning back and arching his back a bit as Yoongi’s thumb runs along his slit, smearing the precum there. He lets his mouth hang open a bit, hips rolling up in small movements to fuck Yoongi’s hand. “God, hyung, tighter.”


He places his hands behind himself for support, eyebrows furrowing as he gradually lets his movements grow larger, but not faster. Yoongi’s eyes are locked on Jimin’s face, and Jimin can’t even help the little moan he gives when Yoongi tells him “Eyes on me,” voice husky and low. Jimin’s breathing stutters when he does meet Yoongi’s intense gaze, licking at his lips once again in an attempt to fix the way his mouth suddenly feels like it’s gone dry.


Yoongi complies to Jimin’s request then, making his fist tighter and pumping Jimin in time with his hips. There are licks of arousal wrapping around his spine with every slide of skin on skin, pooling in his groin and building dangerously fast. Yoongi’s free hand gets to work loosening his tie, brows knit together ever so slightly in concentration.


Jimin gives a heady moan when Yoongi flicks his wrist just right and he knows Yoongi knows how close he is. The older presses his thumb to the underside of Jimin’s length, running along the thick vein there and sliding across the ridge of his cockhead. Jimin’s stomach quivers and he’s about to open his mouth to ask for permission when Yoongi cuts him off.


“If you get cum on this shirt Park Jimin, you’ll have to pay me back for exactly how much it’s worth, and if I didn’t know you’d fucking love it I’d say you don’t wanna be that sore tomorrow.”


Jimin can’t hold himself back at the dark promise in Yoongi’s words and cums with a shout, managing to get most of it on his stomach, but not without some landing on Yoongi as well. He’s still breathing heavily when Yoongi’s hand fists into his hair and shoves his face into the bed.


He gives a satisfied little laugh, too hazy to care enough to hide how much he really does love this. Yoongi snarls something out about ungrateful brats, and Jimin wiggles his ass. The action earns him a slap, causing him to clench around the plug and cry out softly because fuck, yeah that’s still in there. This piques Yoongi’s interest as well, apparently, because when Jimin feels the man’s hand on his ass again, he expects another smack and instead yelps when Yoongi grips the plug, giving an experimental twist.


“Shit,” Jimin gasps out, earning him a shut the fuck up and Yoongi pulling the plug out only to thrust it back in roughly. Jimin is grateful for being stretched already, because Yoongi is merciless with how quickly he’s slamming into Jimin with the toy.


Jimin’s thighs twitch when Yoongi groans from behind him, muttering something about “Fucking look at you, oh my god,” and kneads at Jimin’s ass with a hand. There’s a brief pause before Yoongi’s getting up, and Jimin would ask if he didn’t see which drawer Yoongi’s hand darts towards right away. He returns with lube, pulling the plug out almost all the way- much to Jimin’s discomfort- and slathering it with lube before pushing it back in. Jimin sighs in relief at how much better the slide feels this time, he hadn’t exactly felt discomfort before, but it’s safe to say Yoongi’s mantra about never too much lube is always right.


He’s drawn out of his thoughts when Yoongi angles the toy differently, hitting just shy of his prostate and drawing a frustrated growl past gritted teeth.


“Almost- ugh- almost hyung,” Jimin grits out, mumbling the phrase over and over until Yoongi (who had just been doing it to frustrate Jimin, after enough times of fucking Jimin he could find the younger’s prostate with ease) finally tilts it just right and Jimin’s screaming as stars explode across the backs of his eyelids. “Oh, oh- right there, please-”


Yoongi switches his method then, changing to long drawn out strokes but making sure to press nice and hard on Jimin’s prostate every time. Jimin whines in frustration, shaking with the effort to not slam back against the toy himself, Yoongi’s fun be damned.


“I want you to fuck me.” Jimin demands, voice wavering and tapering off into a keen as Yoongi gives a succession of short and quick strokes.


“I am.” Yoongi responds simply, reaching up to grip at Jimin’s harness and tug just to hear the loud hitch in Jimin’s breath as he’s jerked upwards.


“You know, ah- what I fucking- Yoong- what I mean.” Jimin doesn’t need to see Yoongi to know he’s grinning fiendishly, but he does see Yoongi and he feels Yoongi picking up his pace whenever Jimin talks.


“Didn’t I tell you that you’d be paying for this shirt, Jimin? Do you really think you get to demand that I do shit now? The answer is fuck no you don’t. Now, shut the fuck up and don’t make me say it again or there will be consequences.”


Jimin bites down on his lip and shuts his eyes tight, desperately trying to ignore the swell in his groin at Yoongi’s words and failing because oh how he loves when Yoongi gets like this. The familiar feeling of an impending orgasm is building quickly and Jimin hopes like hell the whimper he gives isn’t enough to count as not shutting the fuck up.


“Cum, baby. I know you want to, I can see how fucking tight you are around this toy, c’mon.” Yoongi prompts, gripping the harness again and using it as leverage to lift Jimin a bit off the bed, and that’s all the help he needs because the slight lack of air is enough to have Jimin biting his lip hard enough to bleed when he climaxes a second time.


Yoongi drops him roughly down on his own mess, and Jimin registers the sound of Yoongi’s belt being unbuckled before he hears the zipper of Yoongi’s pants.


“I should fuck you like this,” He murmurs thoughtfully, palming one of Jimin’s ass cheeks as he speaks. “But I don’t think I will.”


Jimin lifts his head a little in question, watching Yoongi as he sits back against the headboard again. He makes eye contact and pats his lap twice in invitation. It takes Jimin a moment to summon the strength to get up, making his way over to Yoongi as the latter strokes his already hard dick.


“Wanna suck me off baby?”


Jimin whimpers and chokes out a please before nestling between Yoongi’s thighs. Yoongi pats his head for a moment, scratching soothingly at his scalp and Jimin can’t help but smile at the small act. He licks his lips before leaning forward to kiss the tip, shooting Yoongi a cheeky look before sucking it between thick lips. Jimin hums in approval as the salty taste of precum hits his tongue, swirling the muscle around and along the ridge.


Yoongi’s hand makes it’s way to Jimin’s collar once the latter has taken Yoongi’s length as far as he can, nose touching the soft skin at Yoongi’s groin. Jimin huffs out a breath just as Yoongi tugs, causing Jimin to gag and pull off with a lewd pop, a ragged moan leaving his lips once he’s done so. Yoongi curses and there’s something like an apology mixed in.


“You’re so hot,” Yoongi groans, tugging Jimin up by his collar for a bruising kiss. “Wanna fuck you now.”


Jimin nods desperately into the kiss, gripping at Yoongi’s shirt as he rocks his hips down against Yoongi’s. He doesn’t care that their movements have grown sloppy, more tongue and teeth than lips at this point because Yoongi is bringing up a small packet to Jimin’s face and demanding he tear it open- Jimin acts like he doesn’t know it’s because Yoongi’s hands are shaking- and Jimin hastily rolls the condom onto Yoongi’s length afterwards.


Jimin lines Yoongi’s cock up with his entrance, lips parting as he takes Yoongi’s dick in. Yoongi’s hands are soothing on his hips through the stretch, easing the hiccups in his breathing and smoothing the hunch in his back with a few short strokes until Jimin is fully seated. He hooks his arms around Yoongi’s neck and rocks his hips experimentally, drawing a hiss from Yoongi and a shaky gasp from his own mouth.


He sets a slow pace, using what strength he has to draw out sliding down Yoongi’s length, savoring the way Yoongi shakes. The way he bites down on his lip as he watches Jimin’s abs flex and his length disappear inside the younger. Jimin grabs Yoongi’s hand, drawing it up to his throat and murmuring a soft “Please, hyung,”.


Yoongi obliges him, slipping two fingers into the lead and pulling Jimin in close. Jimin huffs out a whine and picks up the pace a bit, shifting until he’s got Yoongi’s tip hitting his prostate dead on. Of course, it doesn’t help that his movements grow sloppier and jerky at that, making it harder to keep hitting said spot again. He growls out in frustration, digging his nails into Yoongi’s shoulders as he bounces to an off-rhythm only associated with the desperate need to cum.


“Hyung,” Jimin whines, eyebrows furrowed. “Help.”


He’d be embarrassed at the smug look on Yoongi’s face if he wasn’t busy being flipped onto his back, eyes widening in surprise at the sudden shift. Jimin has to remind himself that his lack of coordination does not mean Yoongi’s, given that he’s up two orgasms in comparison.


“Brat, you asked for my help. Fucking. Pay. Attention.” Yoongi growls, increasing how high he pulls the collar with each word until Jimin is whining for an entirely different reason, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.


Jimin appreciates the brutal snap of Yoongi’s hips in tandem with their ragged breathing, hiccuping moans loud enough to make the room feel small with how crowded the air is. And in a way, it is small because Jimin finds his whole world narrowed down to the way Yoongi feels inside him, the way he never fails to make Jimin feel like he’s on fucking fire- so needy for any and everything Yoongi gives him.


He’s repeating Yoongi’s name like a slurred mantra, drunk on the taste of Yoongi’s lips and the lack of air. Jimin can tell Yoongi’s close, knows he probably has been for a long time and finds himself clenching around Yoongi’s length without really meaning to. He’s so desperate to see the older shake apart and break down the way he has, to watch Yoongi’s lips form his name amongst the filthy curses and to swallow the way his voice pitches higher between greedy kisses.


Yoongi’s free hand reaches down to pump Jimin’s length, the pace is off but the friction is so fucking good that Jimin doesn’t care. He’s whimpering yes, yes, yes into Yoongi’s mouth as the older fucks him into his third orgasm of the night, vision blurring and going black at the edges.

Yoongi is close behind, two more sloppy strokes before he’s biting Jimin’s bruised and swollen lip and kissing it better to the tune of Jimin’s name, broken and fucked out and oh so sweet. Jimin’s chest is heaving when Yoongi remembers to let up on the pressure, setting him down gently and brushing sweat-soaked bangs off of his forehead. Jimin thinks he hears Yoongi mumble something like so good, but knowing the older it was probably something more like soju. He did always like to drink to recharge, after all.


Jimin reaches a shaky hand up and pats Yoongi’s cheek, staring at Yoongi’s equally blissful expression as satisfaction radiates from somewhere deep in his core. Yoongi’s gaze softens a bit and he leans in to kiss Jimin’s sore and tender lips before telling Jimin to get up, because they aren’t about to sleep on cum-stained blankets.


Jimin doesn’t get up, and Yoongi doesn’t either, slowly settling down to curl against Jimin’s side.


“In fifteen minutes, if you aren’t up I’m gonna make you wash them by hand,” is the last thing Jimin hears Yoongi mutter before he’s snoring softly, features smoothed and so so young looking in what Jimin would proudly call the deepest sleep he’s had since their last encounter.


Jimin and Yoongi aren’t in love. They aren’t boyfriends, or anything official like that. Looking down on Yoongi, though, Jimin can safely say that whatever they are, he’s never been happier.