Yoongi has been feeling antsy all day, hot and bothered and on edge, for some reason he can't quite place. It isn't until he gets home, collapsing on the sofa in the living room and tossing his phone onto the coffee table in the dark, that he smells it.
"—Fuck, Jimin," he breathes out. Because it's clearly Jimin, familiar caramel scent cloying on his tongue, so strong he can almost taste it. "Fuck."
He can't say that he's surprised when Jimin appears, a figure in the dark, slipping into his lap with a soft noise of relief. His weight is heavy and familiar to Yoongi, but he also takes notice of the sweat slicking Jimin's hair to his forehead, his temperature running higher than normal. The smell is even stronger now, almost sickeningly sweet, and Yoongi struggles not to sink his fingers into Jimin's hips. He swallows hard, it's so distracting and he's having a hard time thinking straight. "Have you been like this all day?"
Jimin's hands are already running over all the bare skin he can reach, sliding under Yoongi's shirt and fingernails scraping gently against his stomach. This close, Yoongi can see the sweat beading on his forehead, feel Jimin's shaky exhales. There's a breathy edge in his voice that only appears when he's in heat. "Was—was waiting for you to get back, hyung."
Yoongi lets him nose at his neck, breath hot against his skin. Jimin's always smelled irresistible to him, sweet and soft, and Yoongi finally lets himself get a taste, licking a stripe along his neck. The noise Jimin makes is too needy and has Yoongi cursing under his breath, ready to tear Jimin's shirt off, but he forces himself to draw back. He knows Namjoon and Jungkook are home, can smell them even now because Jimin's got all of his senses heightened. "Sweetheart. Why didn't you get someone else to help you?"
The laugh Jimin lets out against his skin is too strained to be one of his usual giggles. His voice is pitched lower when he replies, "It's your turn to be first this time, or did you forget? You should thank Jungkook and Namjoon hyung for their self-restraint later."
Yoongi's jaw clenches at the thought of it. He's notoriously pissy about sloppy seconds, even when it's Jimin, even when Jimin is wonderfully fucked-out and pliant for him. He digs his thumbs into Jimin's hips and tips his forehead into Jimin's collarbones, breathing him in. "I would've ripped them into shreds."
The rough tone of his voice has Jimin shivering, but he still manages to shoot a coquettish look under his eyelashes at Yoongi. "I begged Jungkook," he confesses. "Begged him. I couldn't help it. He almost gave in actually, but then he remembered it was your turn and wouldn't come near me at all."
Yoongi sucks in a breath, closing his eyes at the imagery. He knows how fucking filthy Jimin can get when he's desperate for cock, has witnessed it firsthand multiple times, so he has to give the youngest some credit. It's taking all of his self-control to keep from bending Jimin over the table and fucking him into tomorrow right now, he can't even imagine the willpower Jungkook had to summon with Jimin murmuring filth in his ear.
Jimin looks down at his fingers, now interlocked with Yoongi's, playing demure when Yoongi knows he's anything but. He doesn't speak, even though it looks like he wants to, instead choosing to run his thumbnail along the back of Yoongi's hand. Yoongi can tell that Jimin's waiting for him to say something, but he lets him suffer for a good minute instead.
Finally, Jimin breaks the silence. He's so, so desperate and Yoongi had known he couldn't wait long. "Are you... mad at me?" he asks.
And no, Yoongi could never be really mad at Jimin, not ever, not especially when he's so gorgeous when he's needy like this, but he gives him a clipped "Yes," anyway.
The noise Jimin makes is his wounded puppy one and Yoongi can see the pouty curve of his mouth even in the dim light. Jimin tries to explain in a rush. "I didn't mean to. I just—you were gone for the whole day. Jungkook was right there—"
"Bet you're real pretty when you beg for it," Yoongi cuts him off, lips close to Jimin's ear, and Jimin jerks. "But you knew that already, didn't you? Always begging like the little slut you are."
"Hyung," Jimin whines, all strung out of his mind, and he's just so easy that Yoongi can't help but toy with him. "—Hyung, please."
Yoongi ignores him, continuing, "Maybe I should invite Jungkook in here, let him watch. It's only fair, after you've been practically throwing yourself at him all day."
Jimin's nose scrunches up. If he keeps on making these desperate noises Yoongi doesn't know if he can help himself. Jimin looks too distressed to do any coherent thinking and his hands drop to Yoongi's belt, like he's about to unbuckle it on his own, but he freezes with a look from Yoongi. "Help me—hyung."
He shifts, sitting up in Yoongi's lap, and it makes his scent rush out all around them even heavier than before. Yoongi's always preferred Jimin's burnt sugar caramel smell to Seokjin’s buttery one, and he wants him bad. But it's always more fun in the end when he drags it out, so he just dips his mouth to Jimin's clavicle, brushing against his sweaty skin for a moment before sinking his teeth in, lips curling at the sound Jimin makes.
Yoongi hadn't bitten hard enough to draw blood, he's just getting started, but he knows the teeth marks are going to last long enough that whoever is next in line gets to see Jimin all marked up already. He runs his tongue over Jimin's skin, the salty taste and sweet scent enough to make his head whirl. Finally he pulls Jimin's shirt off, letting Jimin settle back on his legs with a satisfied look.
The other reason he likes going first is the way that Jimin looks—unmarked, clean, just waiting for someone to come and litter bruises all over him. Jimin gathers his arms in front of his chest when Yoongi's been staring for too long, complaining, "Stop looking at me, hyung—hurry up."
"Rude," Yoongi chides, catching his wrists in his hands and feeling like his fingers are long enough to snap them in half. He tugs his arms gently to make them drop and brings one of Jimin's wrists up, not breaking eye contact as he dips his mouth to it and sucks a bruise into the skin there, slowly, deliberately. Jimin whines as Yoongi pulls away, lips slick. "But I like looking at you. You look good," he says, matter-of-fact, knowing it'll make Jimin blush and duck his head.
And Jimin does look good, hair sticking up every which way and cheeks flushed. He's always the most gorgeous when he comes undone and honestly, Yoongi doesn't feel tired anymore at all. "Stop saying things like that," Jimin mutters under his breath.
"That you look so pretty like this?" Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.
"You're taking too long," Jimin grumbles, face red. "I should—I should just go find Namjoon—"
"Don't you fucking dare." Yoongi's wood smoke scent sharpens in it's intensity, enough to cut Jimin off. It makes Jimin's eyes glaze over as he takes a deep breath in, shuddering. Yoongi can tell Jimin wants to go lax against his body, let him have his way, but Jimin gathers up whatever's left of his resolve to pick his head back up.
"Then stop teasing," he grits out, thumbing the hem of Yoongi's shirt and making a half-hearted attempt at tugging it higher.
Yoongi complies, helping him pull it off over his head. Jimin narrows his eyes at him, confused. If there's one person in their dorm who loves dragging things out until Jimin's losing his mind it's Yoongi and he doesn't see why he'd go along with anything he wants so easily.
It allows Yoongi's scent to hit him stronger though, and Jimin has a hard time putting any more thought to it. Instead, he leans forward and rests his forehead against Yoongi's chest. A rush of wet seeps into his boxers and he squeezes his thighs around Yoongi’s hips, embarrassed. He can't help that Yoongi smells so good, wood smoke with an edge of unrestrained wilderness that's always felt so appropriate for him. Jimin wonders if he'll punish him for darting his tongue out and sneaking a taste of his skin. He's about to find out when Yoongi leans back, suddenly looking at him contemplatively.
"Jimin," he says, and there's that tone in his voice, the one laced with alpha that would have Jimin's knees buckling if he wasn't already settled on Yoongi's lap. "Jimin, who was first last time?"
"How do you expect me to remember?" Jimin wrinkles his nose at him, annoyed. He's still feeling hazy, even more strung out because Yoongi is right here, right now, so close to him, but he won't touch him the way Jimin wants.
"Jungkook?" Yoongi asks.
Jimin can tell he's not going to stop until he figures out—whatever the hell it is he's trying to figure out. "Yeah, I guess," he allows. He's wants to be fussy, because of course Yoongi is being talkative the only time he needs his mouth to get busy doing other things. Yoongi is probably right—Jungkook leaves wicked bruises on Jimin's wrists and hips and he remembers Yoongi running a finger over the plum smudges on Jimin's hipbone before fucking him last time—but he doesn't see why it matters. "Can you fuck me now?" Jimin says irritably. He knows he's being more shameless than he'd ever be in his right state of mind, but Yoongi refuses to get to the fucking point and he's so desperate.
Yoongi digs his fingers into Jimin's ass, a warning, but Jimin just groans and presses back into his grip. He wants, needs more. "So, it's Namjoon after me, this time," Yoongi thinks aloud.
"Yeah, great—" Jimin's cut off when the hand that Yoongi had running through his hair tugs his head back, baring his neck.
"You're so mouthy," Yoongi notes, voice laced with mild disapproval. It makes Jimin preen even though he knows Yoongi meant it as a reprimand. It's ridiculous because Jimin knows he smells irresistible, can't believe that Yoongi's still so calm, and he shoots Yoongi a dismayed look down his nose. "I was saying, Namjoon's after me today, but I do recall that he's been editing my lyrics without asking first, lately."
"Keep me out of your alpha domineering," Jimin mutters. God, of course Yoongi would pick now of all times. He curses himself for not just breaking Jungkook down and getting a quickie earlier. "Namjoon would've fucked me by now," he says under his breath.
He knows that'll rile Yoongi up. Yoongi had been pressing his nose to the dip of Jimin's collarbone, breathing him in with long drags, but Jimin's words make him growl in the back of his throat and sink his teeth in to Jimin's skin. Finally, what Jimin wants. "When Namjoon gets you, he'll get you all marked up everywhere from me," Yoongi promises, and it makes Jimin shiver.
"So fuck me, please, hyung," Jimin says, and he knows he looks a mess, knows he'll bruise prettily. He sighs with relief when Yoongi makes him sit up in his lap and pulls his shorts down, elastic digging into his ass before it comes off. It's soaked on the bottom and Jimin can't look Yoongi in the eye, he's so embarrassed as Yoongi holds it to his nose and inhales Jimin's smell, so strong it's should’ve made him give in and fuck Jimin by now. But then again, Yoongi's always had incredible self-restraint.
"How many times?" Yoongi asks, smoothing his hand down Jimin's ass. "How many times do you want to come?"
He's being generous today, Jimin notes. Usually Yoongi wouldn't even bother asking, but he's probably in a good mood because he gets to go first. "I, ah, three. Three is nice."
"Nice?" Yoongi says, mouth quirking, before humming. "Three it is."
Jimin's feeling giddy. Yoongi motions for him to get off of his lap, seats him with his ass hanging off of the sofa. Jimin looks at him wide-eyed as he sinks to his knees between Jimin's legs.
"You've been waiting a long time, yeah?" Yoongi asks lightly, and Jimin can't concentrate with the way he's spreading Jimin's legs apart, running his hands along his thighs before sliding under and locking them in place. He shoots Jimin a grin and Jimin's about to whine about him being such a tease when Yoongi presses his mouth to a spot on Jimin's inner thigh, sucking hard and shit, he's not holding back. Jimin's breath comes out in short pants, helpless like this, hurting in the best way.
Brushing his lips along Jimin's soft skin, Yoongi kisses a new spot before laying his teeth into Jimin again and Jimin whines because, God, he loves this. It makes Jimin's back arch and he wants to squirm but Yoongi's holding him down good, he couldn't if he tried. Yoongi grazes his teeth along Jimin's skin and Jimin almost wants to ask him to sink them in, make him bleed.
Jimin doesn't realize his eyelids are screwed shut until Yoongi says, "Eyes on me," so he forces himself to gaze at him, half-lidded, and sucks in a breath.
Yoongi's mouth is red and slick and Jimin wants to kiss him, but it's also awfully close to his dick and he's so conflicted. His arms are locked under Jimin's thighs, with Jimin's legs over his shoulders, and his pupils are so blown it makes Jimin feel pleased. There are red splotches along Jimin's thighs where Yoongi's lips have been and he knows they're going to bruise soon, wishes it would happen all the faster.
Not breaking eye contact, Yoongi brings his mouth to Jimin's cock, just brushing his lips against the slick head. Jimin jerks in his grip, gasping, "—Fuck, hyung."
"What?" Yoongi asks, pulling back, and Jimin whines, loud enough that everyone else in the dorm probably heard. "Use your mouth, I know you're good with it."
Jimin flushes, looking down at Yoongi between his legs is going to kill him and he still wants to get fucked one more time before he dies. "Can you—suck me off, please—" Yoongi shoots him a look and he adds, quickly, "—hyung."
"That wasn't so hard," Yoongi praises, before he's dipping his mouth to Jimin's cock again, this time sucking on the tip before easing down, slowly. Jimin wants to cry, it feels so good. His mouth is hot and wet around Jimin, and Jimin wants to buck up into it but he knows better. He'd rather Yoongi not bend him across his knee and spank him today.
Another rush of wetness comes from Jimin's ass, and Yoongi runs a finger through it as he brings his other hand to fist the base of Jimin's cock. He pulls off, ducking his head even though Jimin can tell he's probably collecting himself, instead just jacking him off roughly a few times. Yoongi isn't used to giving head, he knows, and Jimin's suddenly filled with a warm affection because Yoongi does try hard to be a good alpha whenever Jimin needs it.
His head feels muddled, Yoongi's hand around his dick, and Jimin's been riled up long enough that he's already on the edge of coming, already there. Yoongi's about to wrap his lips around Jimin's cock again when Jimin breathes out, "You don't have to, hyung."
Yoongi gives him a scowl, and Jimin loves how swollen his lips are but he doesn't want Yoongi to have such a hard time. "I want to," is all he says, before he's sucking Jimin down again and Jimin shakes. He won't deny how good it feels, Yoongi's mouth all hot on his dick. Jimin screws his eyes shut as the tip hits the back of Yoongi's throat.
He moves his hand to Jimin's ass and tugs him lower, off the sofa, and then there's a finger pressing against Jimin's rim and he feels electric. "Oh, fuck, hyung please—please—"
Yoongi sucks one more time, hard, cheeks hollowing around Jimin, and he gets a finger inside Jimin's slippery hole and it's enough, it's fucking enough. Jimin's coming, spilling down Yoongi's throat in a white hot daze.
There's cum trickling out of the corner of Yoongi's mouth, and Jimin flushes, still trying to catch his breath. Yoongi doesn't give him a break, just leaning over him and breathing in his ear, all hoarse, "You're so wet, baby. For me?" Like he doesn't fucking know.
He's embarrassed, Jimin's so embarrassed, and he doesn't know what to reply that isn't I need your cock in me now, please, hyung, so instead he settles for a breathy moan.
Yoongi holds him open with his index fingers, and Jimin can't take this anymore, feeling more slick seep into his crack. They're making a mess on the sofa, he's soaking, Jimin doesn't think he's ever been this wet in his life.
"Did you finger yourself? You're so loose," Yoongi comments, and Jimin hates how calm he sounds, wants to put a strain in his voice.
"Maybe I did," Jimin replies viciously. "Or maybe I got Namjoon hyung or Jungkook to do it. If they wouldn't fuck me they could still, ah, finger me open."
There's a twist in Yoongi's mouth as he leans over Jimin, working another finger into his ass. "I would've smelled them, baby. And they wouldn't have been enough, right? Because only I know how you like it."
His hand is picking up speed, fucking into Jimin with slick noises and Jimin feels full but not full enough. "Yeah?" he pants out.
"Yeah," Yoongi says, and now he's got three fingers in Jimin, the squelch enough to make Jimin's toes curl. "Namjoon is—Namjoon's too nice, too gentle, doesn't know how rough you like it. And Jungkook, well, Jungkook's just a kid, isn't he? Still needs time to mature. Can't appreciate how good you take it, how well-behaved."
Jimin's gasping, seeing stars because Yoongi is winding him up, brushing against that spot occasionally and shooting electricity up Jimin's spine. His cock is hard again, red and aching against his stomach. "I—I think Jungkook is fine, he's fine."
"I'm sure," Yoongi allows, and his mouth is over an unblemished spot on Jimin's inner thigh again. He sucks a new hickey into Jimin's skin and Jimin cries out, clenching hard around Yoongi's fingers. "And do you like listening to our little Jungkook? Does he call you hyung while he fucks you open?" Yoongi punctuates each word with a hard thrust, dragging along Jimin's rim.
Jimin's a mess, mouth falling open and drool coming out the corner of his mouth. It's good but it's not good enough. He thinks, vaguely, this is where Yoongi wanted to get him all along, where he's really about to say anything to get Yoongi to hurry up and make him come again. "I don't—I don't know, Yoongi hyung, I, ah—"
He thrashes his head when Yoongi mouths at the side of his dick, pressing a light kiss against the vein that has Jimin bucking up helplessly. Jimin'll do anything, promise anything at this point. "My hand is soaked," Yoongi breathes out, his voice a little strained, a little hoarse. His eyes are dark and his bangs are damp, falling into his eyes. "Gonna get wet on my cock too?"
The image of Yoongi's pretty, pretty cock, dripping with Jimin's wetness and so thick, so good, has Jimin keening with how bad he wants it. All it takes is Yoongi sinking his teeth into Jimin's hipbone, three fingers jammed up against his prostate, before Jimin's coming again, dick spilling over his stomach, stars on the back of his eyelids.
Jimin feels like his senses are overloaded, limbs tingling. He's exhausted but not quite sated. He can smell himself all over Yoongi, the caramel cloying and stinging the back of his nose, and Jimin groans when he sees Yoongi's hand as he pulls away, shining wetly in the dim light.
He has to close his eyes when he sees Yoongi go to lick it, but that doesn't stop him from having to hear the filthy noises as he pictures Yoongi's tongue lapping it up, Jimin's slick smeared along his mouth and down his chin.
"Look at me," Yoongi says, voice low, and Jimin shakes his head, squirming. "Jimin."
Jimin couldn't disobey Yoongi like this if he wanted to, so he cracks an eye open, sucking in a sharp breath as he takes in Yoongi's appearance. It's just as bad as he imagined, Yoongi's mouth is so shiny and God, Jimin is so embarrassed. He thinks if he were to stand up, his legs would buckle, and Yoongi hasn't even fucked him yet.
Yoongi wipes his mouth across the back of his hand, and Jimin wants to shut his eyes again, but he doesn't know if he has permission yet. He hiccups, "Hyung—hyung, can I—?"
"You taste good," Yoongi says, and Jimin shivers hard. "I'd eat you out but—I don't know if you could hold off coming again and I haven't even fucked you yet."
Jimin's about to say he wouldn't mind coming a fourth time but then Yoongi sits down on the couch, pulling Jimin back onto his lap where he started. Jimin wants to kiss him bad, so he goes for it, cupping Yoongi's face carefully and leaning in. He pauses right before their lips meet, but Yoongi doesn't pull away, so he takes that as permission and closes the distance.
His mouth is hot and opens easily under Jimin, tongue slipping past his lips and making Jimin moan into the kiss. He can taste himself and he flushes, helplessly grinding down on Yoongi's lap.
This time, when Yoongi's hands run down his sides to cup his ass, Jimin pushes back into him, relishing the feeling. He's sure there are mottled bruises down his thighs by now, is probably going to preen in front of the bathroom mirror later.
Jimin exhales sharply into Yoongi's mouth when Yoongi spreads his ass with his large hands, still kneading into his skin. He's probably made a mess all over Yoongi's lap by now, but he loses his train of thought as Yoongi runs the tip of his finger along his hole. "Ready?"
"Yes, hyung, I'm—" Jimin doesn't manage to finish his sentence before he's being lifted up over Yoongi's cock, the head pressing against his rim, and he's so fucking wet and loose it just slips right in.
It's like all the air has been punched out of his lungs. Groaning, Jimin feels so wonderfully full, finally, finally what he's been waiting for. Yoongi is pleasantly thick, and Jimin's delirious with how good the slide down is. He knows how tight and hot he is, so he tries to relax around Yoongi and bites his bottom lip just to get a rise out of him.
Yoongi's fingers clamp into Jimin's hips, hard, bringing him down on his cock the final centimeter, to where Jimin can feel Yoongi's balls pressing against the slick of his ass. It's like Jimin can only breathe shallowly, not enough room to take in deep gulps of air. When Yoongi bucks up into his heat, he almost cries out into Yoongi's sweaty skin.
He feels so full, satisfied in the way he only gets when there's a cock inside of him, and it's like everything is culminating to this point. Jimin's heat burns the hottest right before it's about to break and right now is no different as he rides Yoongi shakily, hands digging into Yoongi's shoulders and dick smearing a mess on Yoongi's belly.
He'd been waiting for so long that Yoongi’s dick goes in so wet and slippery that Jimin knows he should be ashamed of how easily he opens up for him, and he buries his face in Yoongi's neck, panting into his skin. Like this, he's surrounded by Yoongi's scent, taking him in with every slow, shuddering breath.
It's hard for Jimin to muster the energy to lift himself up each time, drawing up so that only the crown of Yoongi's dick is inside of him before sinking down again. Yoongi only helps him out every so often, reaming up into him deep enough that Jimin swears he sees stars.
"Shit—" Yoongi growls, and Jimin feels the base of his cock swelling, feels it spreading him even further and his throat is dry and he wants it bad. It stretches out his rim, smoothing it out, as Jimin works himself up and down over Yoongi's growing knot. He doesn't know there are tears coming out of his eyes until he tastes salt.
Finally, it reaches the point where Yoongi can't pull himself out anymore and he settles for just grinding up into Jimin. Jimin can only whimper, eyelashes fluttering damply as he feels stretched apart, so full with Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. His head is hazy and it feels like he's got a mouthful of cotton.
Yoongi's knot is pressing into him, and he's limp against Yoongi's chest at this point, can only take the shallow thrusts that Yoongi makes. Jimin can't even tell what Yoongi's breathing into his ear anymore, murmuring about how good Jimin is for him, how tight and hot he is around his cock.
Jimin wants to touch himself but Yoongi's already there, tugging hard on Jimin's length and dragging Jimin to the precipice. All it takes is one last sharp thrust against Jimin's spot and he's fucking there—he's coming with a broken moan, clamping down hard on Yoongi's knot. He swears he passes out for a second.
His head is all muddled but Jimin feels Yoongi come with a curse, the hot spurt deep inside of Jimin, and he squirms at the feeling. Jimin's sure he'll be out of commission for at least a day. He slumps over Yoongi, who's breathing hard underneath him.
The room is hot and Yoongi can't pull himself out of Jimin yet. He traces lines over Jimin's chest as he remembers how to breathe.
Jimin's heat is curbed somewhat and he manages a weak smile down at Yoongi, hair a sweaty mess and mouth so red. "Fucking shit, hyung."
Yoongi gives him a breathless snort. "I'm good, I know," he says, and Jimin wants to smack him, incredible dick or not.
He's smoothing his hands down Jimin's arms now, idly, and Jimin takes the opportunity to take inventory of himself. There are red marks on his collarbones, waist, hips, probably more down his thighs. He knows they're going to bruise, is already anticipating how good the purple is going to look against his skin, and he gives a pleased hum.
Yoongi eases himself out, sometime later. Jimin knows there's a mess of cum and slick dripping down his thighs, but he's well past the point of embarrassment and falling asleep on top of Yoongi is the only thing on his mind right now.
Nudging Jimin off of him, Yoongi disappears for a moment before he’s back, wiping Jimin down with a hot towel he got from God-knows-where. Jimin allows himself a satisfied sigh as Yoongi gets them cleaned up, before settling down next to him and dragging a blanket over the two of them.
Yoongi's smell is muted now, but still there, and Jimin allows his familiar scent to lull him to sleep. He feels happy, sated, and the last thing he catches before dozing off is Yoongi muttering, "Tell Namjoon to enjoy," before Jimin falls asleep with a smile quirking his lips. Yoongi's his favorite, but Jimin would never tell him that, because he's always more fun when he's got something to prove.