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Jungkook knows it’s a bad idea the second Jimin drags him into a closet.

Jimin is an overwhelming and distracting presence in Jungkook’s daily life, and it gets really inconvenient when he’s supposed to be focusing on work or fans or anything. Jimin knows Jungkook too well, and he uses this to his advantage, fingers tantalizing on his thigh during the most inconvenient times (like in the car or at a fan sign or right before they go on stage while sitting in the dressing room like they had been today).

It’s even more distracting when Jimin always knows how to give Jungkook the attention he needs, kissing and licking at just the right spot. He follows Jungkook’s whines like a map and knows just the place Jungkook needs to be touched. Jungkook’s drawn to him, clinging to him even more so when Jimin shoots him a knowing smile. Small flutters erupt in Jungkook’s chest when Jimin pulls him closer, always closer, kissing Jungkook and licking into his mouth to tell him how loved he is.

And he’s so good—too good for it to be fair—with his hands and his mouth. Jungkook has never felt more spent than he has underneath Jimin, panting and arching into the hickies Jimin litters on his chest, fingers pressing into Jungkook with vicious twists and flicks.

So Jungkook knows this is a really bad idea when it’s so close to the time they have to be on stage.

He’s only more assured of that fact when Jimin switches on the dim light, a single bulb over their heads, as if he’s planned this—as if he’s memorized the entire concert venue to find the best closet in which he can fuck his boyfriend.

Jungkook only spares that a single thought, brain capacity fizzling as his thighs fall open so easily beneath Jimin grinding his leg into Jungkook’s groin. They don’t have time for this—Jungkook had been on his way to get his mic put on—but he’s always so pliant and willing under Jimin’s touch, and he can’t deny the adrenaline and excitement that always rushes through him when anyone could open the door and see him panting and open beneath Jimin’s fingers.

Jungkook shudders at the friction of Jimin grinding into him and ruts down to meet the movement. His mouth drops open, a breathy whine escaping his lips. In just a few minutes of shoving him into a closet, Jimin has Jungkook clutching at his shoulders and trying desperately to ground himself, but Jimin won’t stop mouthing at his neck, lips sloppily trailing to his collarbone and tugging the neckline of his hoodie down. Jimin likes to leaves hickies where he can, and since Jungkook’s very visible neck is off limits, his collarbone is his next favorite, biting and sucking a bright purple mark into Jungkook’s milky skin.

Jungkook couldn’t ground himself if he tried, couldn’t come down from the high Jimin’s touch gives him even long after it’s gone, leaving his skin buzzing and aching for more.

“H-hyung,” Jungkook gasps, trying to catch his breath. He clutches Jimin’s biceps and digs his fingers into the muscles in an effort to get both of them to focus and to stop them from getting too lost in the heavy arousal between them. “How much time ‘til—ah, ‘til we need to get our mics on?”

Jimin kisses his way back up Jungkook’s neck. He pats the fabric of Jungkook’s sweatshirt over the damp hickie left behind on his collarbone, and Jungkook feels dirty already. His hands grasp for Jimin without knowing if he wants to pull him closer or push him away. He’s already sweating and whimpering before he’s even under the hot stage lights, and he’s sure he’ll only get more wrecked and raw the longer they stay in the closet.

“Twenty minutes,” Jimin murmurs. He holds Jungkook’s face to kiss him proper, lips soft and slick as they slot between Jungkook’s gloss-covered ones. He’ll surely be scolded by makeup noonas later, but Jungkook pays that thought little mind, instead shivering into the soft hold Jimin has on him.

He kisses Jungkook sweetly, and when he swipes his tongue across the seam of Jungkook’s mouth, his lips fall open with a sigh. Jimin swipes his tongue in, licks into his mouth until Jungkook is blissful and lax.

“Turn around, baby,” Jimin murmurs and grips Jungkook’s hips.

Jungkook is absolutely sure this is a bad idea, but he moves in the direction Jimin angles him and faces the closet door. He knows Jimin would back off and guide them out of the closet at the slightest protest from Jungkook, but Jungkook can’t even hide his excitement from himself, eagerly shifting and bracing his arms against the wood, ass on display for his boyfriend to dig his fingers into.

“Love that you’re so eager for me, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin murmurs, body pressed against Jungkook’s back. His lips tickle Jungkook’s ear, breath hot against the sensitive skin. “Would love to fuck you open, to show you just how much I love you.”

Jimin punctuates his words with rough hands sliding over Jungkook’s ass and around to the front of his groin. He grips Jungkook’s cock through his shorts, grinding his palm in hard for friction. Jungkook bucks into the touch, anticipation rushing through him as Jimin unzips him. The shorts fall to the floor, but the elastic band of his boxers stays dug into the supple skin beneath his ass.

“So fucking good for me, baby,” Jimin growls. He jerks Jungkook’s cock slow, his skin chafing without lube and making Jungkook twitch as he fully hardens. His pumping hand is almost painful—painfully slow, especially—and pre-cum dribbles down Jungkook’s shaft after several strokes.

“Mmm, you really are eager,” Jimin teases once the cum drips between his fingers, sticky on Jungkook’s cock. Jungkook whimpers when Jimin’s thumb digs at the slit, circling the pre-cum around the tip and dragging slowly down the base.

“I wish we had more time,” Jimin continues. He pulls away and hurriedly tugs Jungkook’s boxers down until they drop to the floor. He smacks the skin of his ass, says, “Spread your legs, baby,” and Jungkook shivers, goose bumps rising all over his skin as he does as he’s told.

Jungkook hears Jimin shifting and the sound of a small packet of lube being ripped open. Jungkook spreads as much as he can, hands pulling his cheeks apart to the best of his ability and waiting, embarrassingly flushed and sweating, for Jimin’s slick fingers.

Jungkook knows Jimin means it—Would love to fuck you open, to show you just how much I love you. He knows just how much Jimin wants to show him, and he knows from prior experience just how Jimin would show him. A wave of arousal washes over him, makes his hole clench as he holds his cheeks apart. They’d done this just this morning—last night, even—a hotel room to themselves too irresistible to pass up.

Jimin had teased Jungkook the night before, fucked him slow and entirely unhurried. He’d whispered about how they had the whole night to themselves and, why rush, Kookie? His fingers were slow sliding into Jungkook, still in his ass until Jungkook fucked himself back on them, whimpering into the bed sheets for Jimin to move, please move. Jimin had laughed at him, softly kissed every patch of skin he could reach, but he still denied Jungkook his orgasm twice, leaving Jungkook begging until he finally came so hard he saw stars.

The morning had been completely different as Jimin woke him with soft, peppered kisses. He’d brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face, tickled every inch of bare skin with slow, tantalizing fingers and whispers of, Time to get up, cutie. He’d let Jungkook whine and nuzzle into his pillow with a sleepy grin and kissed Jungkook awake, flat on his back with his hands running softly down Jungkook’s chest. And eventually he pulled him to the shower, fucked him slow and soft against the tiled wall and gave Jungkook every bit of what he wanted, making him cry out softly beneath the sound of running water.

The different ways Jimin love him all leave Jungkook a fucked out mess, body buzzing and aching for more, leave him curled into Jimin’s side and asking for more with soft kisses. This moment is no exception, Jungkook pressed to the closet door with his thighs held open wide, desperate for anything Jimin is willing to give.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin moans, and Jungkook feels his finger slick with warmed lube circle the rim of his hole before pressing in, thrusting pleasantly into him. Jimin rests his forehead against Jungkook’s shoulder, murmuring, “So ready for me—god, you look so good when you’re waiting for me to fuck you. Look so good when I fuck you.”

Jungkook whimpers at the praise. He has to take his hands off his ass to brace himself against the door when Jimin slides in a second finger, the obscene squelch of the lube and the broken moans tumbling out of Jungkook’s mouth making him shudder in embarrassment. His whole body flushes as he ruts back on Jimin’s fingers, moan catching in his throat when Jimin digs into his prostate.

“W-want you to fuck me, Jiminie-hyung,” Jungkook stutters.

“Yeah?” Jimin’s lips graze Jungkook’s ear again, his presence overwhelmingly close. Jungkook’s unable to hide his face in embarrassment when another whine bursts from his lips, and he feels Jimin grin against his ear. “Want me to fuck you like last night? Nice and slow, ‘til you’re begging for more?”

Jungkook groans at the memory, his hole clenching and fluttering around Jimins fingers. He slides a third one in and stretches Jungkook slow, so slow, fingers dragging sluggishly until Jungkook ruts back on them and bottoms out on Jimin’s knuckles. “Y-Yes hyung—ah, please,” he whimpers, suddenly aware of the time, of how long Jimin likes to drag this out. “M-mic check, when is—“ Jungkook stutters.

“Shit,” Jimin murmurs, fingers still inside Jungkook. He pauses and fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Just long enough,” he says, and then he’s pressing in harder, grip rough on Jungkook’s hips as he digs his fingers into the spot he knows makes Jungkook cry out the loudest.

His fingers begin a relentless pace, a total one eighty from before as he stays buried deep in Jungkook and curls his fingers into his sweet spot without pause. He digs his fingers in repeatedly, so fast that Jungkook yelps, followed by a steady stream of Jimin’s name in broken moans.

“Can’t fuck you so slow you cry, but this is almost better,” Jimin pants into Jungkook’s ear, still digging repeatedly into his prostate. Jungkook feels the tight coil of his orgasm in his belly burning to its peak quickly, feels his balls tightening as he sobs against the door. His arms shake trying to hold himself up, and Jimin reaches his other hand into Jungkook’s mouth, pressing his fingers between his teeth. “Gotta keep quiet, baby. I know,” he soothes when Jungkook whimpers around the digits, drool dripping from his lips.

Jungkook’s thighs twitch repeatedly in time with Jimin’s quick thrusts, and he jerks his hips slightly in desperate search of friction for his aching cock, pre-cum dribbling from the slit and down his balls. His helpless jerking has Jimin chuckling into his ear.

“Go on, baby,” he whispers. “Touch yourself.”

Jungkook slides his arm down the door and shakily reaches down at the order, sucking hard on Jimin’s fingers when his hand grips his cock, steady stream of pre-cum making the slide easy once he slowly begins to pump his fist. He jerks in time to Jimin’s fingers slamming into his prostate, and his body jerks with the movement, making an utter mess of himself with slick lube between his cheeks and pre-cum running down his dick and fingers.

He shudders against Jimin’s chest, the sensations overwhelming with Jimin pounding into him and Jungkook desperately jacking himself until the tight orgasm in his stomach is almost unbearable, just on the edge and ready to snap. He sucks on Jimin’s fingers and lets them slip out of his mouth, spit dragging along his cheek as he whimpers.

“J-Jiminnie, I’m close, s-so close.”

At that Jimin grins against his cheek. He uses his spit-slicked fingers to grab Jungkook’s jaw and pull him in for a sloppy kiss. He catches Jungkook’s whimpers on his tongue and massages into his mouth with greedy thrusts. Jungkook tenses around him, feels his orgasm so impending that he clenches around Jimin’s fingers, so close that he’s about to burst--

And then Jimin’s fingers stop, abrupt and short as they jerk out of Jungkook’s ass. Jimin grapples at Jungkook’s hand on his cock, yanks at it until Jungkook is reluctantly bracing himself with both arms against the door. Jungkook’s cock feels strained at the absence, bouncing and dragging against his hoodie from the abrupt removal of his hand. He feels the hot tightness in his groin jerk and ache.

The sudden denial of his orgasm just on the brink of release has Jungkook sobbing, a short hiccup bursting from his throat as he leans against the door. He feels tears welling in his eyes, the first few escaping down his cheeks as he whines.

“H-hyung, hyung please. Jimin—I—“ he stutters, pressing his ass back towards Jimin, his hole clenching and stretched but utterly empty.

“I know, baby,” Jimin hums, sounding more pleased than sympathetic. Jungkook hears the crinkling sound of the lube packet, and then he feels something hard begin to slide into his hole. “Here, baby, don’t worry. This’ll be fun.”

“A-ah, Jimin,” Jungkook stutters, the plug gliding into him slowly. Jimin thrusts it in a few times, shallow and slow, and Jungkook twitches sensitively with each jerk. The plug eventually slides all the way in, the muscle of Jungkook’s hole sliding around it easily.

“Feel good?” Jimin whispers, tapping the hard toy. Jungkook jumps, trembling and panting. “This okay? I want—want you to wear it on stage,” he murmurs, looking surprisingly bashful when Jungkook finally faces him, leaning back against the door.

Jungkook hums, nodding and suddenly sleepy. He lets Jimin wipe him clean with paper towels they find on a shelf, watches him gently wipe the pre-cum away from his thighs and belly. When he tosses the towel, Jungkook’s arms wind around his neck, and Jimin kisses him deeply, tongue slow and languid and opening Jungkook up with ease.

“Seriously? Is this okay? Are you—“ Jimin stops, breathless. Only then does Jungkook notice his blown pupils, his glassy eyes, the hard bulge in his pants. Jimin brushes his palms gently against Jungkook’s cheeks and wipes the mostly dry tears away, kissing Jungkook softly as he coos. “Jungkook-ah, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers, voice hoarse. “Really, I am. I want to wear it,” he says, cheeks burning and fingers toying nervously with the hem of Jimin’s shirt.

“Jungkookie,” Jimin coos, pressing a series of chaste kisses to Jungkook’s wet lips. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook laughs, slapping Jimin’s chest. “You just had your fingers in my ass.”

“Yeah,” Jimin replies, nudging their noses together until Jungkook huffs a laugh into his mouth, their teeth knocking in a gleeful kiss. “C’mere,” Jimin murmurs, breath fanning over Jungkook’s cheeks. He grips Jungkook’s cock in his hand, and his palm is still wet with spit, lube and pre-cum, gliding up the shaft. The tip almost instantly dribbles more cum, and Jimin grins into Jungkook’s cheek, feeling him jerk against his chest.

Jungkook’s orgasm is easy to rebuild, having only barely fizzled out as Jimin cleaned him up. The burning tightness returns to his stomach with only a few strokes and Jimin kissing praises into his skin, feeling Jungkook tremble in his arms. Jungkook clutches even closer, and his fingers dig into Jimin’s shoulder blades when he’s pushed back against the door, the plug hitting the surface and digging into Jungkook hard.

“O-oh,” Jungkook gasps at the feeling, rutting back onto it and feeling the plug shift inside him. Jimin presses against him harder, hand tugging slowly as he pumps Jungkook until he’s curled into the juncture between Jimin’s neck and shoulder, shivering and gasping at the overwhelming grind.

“J-Jimin—hyung, oh,” Jungkook pants, incoherent as his orgasm bolts through him and tenses his whole body, grip digging into Jimin’s shoulders. Jimin pumps him through it, pressing Jungkook onto the plug as Jungkook rocks against the door as best he can, letting the plug shallowly grind him through the hot uncoiling of his climax.

Jungkook shudders through the aftershocks and whines when Jimin keeps his hand stroking against his softening and sensitive cock. He weakly bats at Jimin’s hands, and he’d push Jimin’s cheeky grin out of his face if he had the energy.

“Good?” Jimin asks him. “I didn’t wear you out, did I? We’ve gotta be backstage—ah, well, now,” Jimin says, glancing at his phone.

“I need—“ Jungkook pants, drained and still shivering from the hard orgasm. Jimin shuffles closer, brushing his sweaty hair back and pressing sweet kisses against his cheek. “Just—give me like two minutes.”

“Mmmm, okay,” Jimin whispers. He keeps pressing light kisses on Jungkook’s face, and his lips are damp and smooth—surely would be bright red if Jungkook could manage to open his eyes.

Jimin kisses his hairline and runs his hands along Jungkook’s back. He briefly cleans Jungkook off again, paper towel desperately wiping the cum off his hoodie and gently wiping down Jungkook’s groin. He slides his boxers and shorts back up, and Jungkook pulls him back in, breathing deep into Jimin’s neck.

“Ready?” Jimin murmurs. “You okay? Are you—“

“Fine. I’m fine,” Jungkook reassures. “Just wish I could sleep, but this—“ he lazily flops his hand in a weak gesture, “was totally worth it.”

Jimin grins and kisses his cheek, gives him a tight squeeze before righting Jungkook and making him stand on his own. “Yeah. Can’t wait to see you on stage, knowing you’ve got a plug—“

“Jungkook-ah, Jiminnie!”

“Shit,” Jimin whispers. Jungkook tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes and pats his hair down. He looks over Jimin, seeing his hair ruffled and clearly tugged, his lips as red as Jungkook imagined. His heart thumps at seeing him look utterly blissful and turned on without Jungkook even touching him; all his sounds, the feel of him beneath Jimin’s hands, must have been enough, and Jungkook can’t fight the grin off his face at the thought. His cheeks burn, knowing that Jungkook will surely return the favor when he can.

He readjusts Jimin’s hair and clothes with a grin while they wait for the footsteps to pass. Jimin looks even more beautiful, alert as if he’s guarding Jungkook from whoever might open the door, and he only relaxes when they sound much further down the hall. “We gotta go, Kookie.”

Jungkook hums affirmatively and gives Jimin one last kiss. He feels Jimin tug at his hoodie to snap the wrinkles out of it, and they’re probably in a ridiculous amount of trouble, but Jungkook pulls him close anyway. He feels Jimin’s soft hands on his back beneath his hoodie, kissing Jungkook long and languid and open-mouthed, and Jungkook’s toes curl, whole body humming.

Jimin lets the kiss drag out, slow and sweet with their noses bumping, but eventually he pulls away, murmuring, “Baby, we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, let’s go,” Jungkook says, and Jimin hurries them out of the closet. He pats Jungkook on the ass, nudging the plug further inside and making Jungkook yelp just as the door opens.

Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea.