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It’s the night after their last concert of the tour. Everyone had apparently collectively agreed Namjoon’s hotel room would be the designated get-together area to celebrate and relax (i.e. get drunk) before catching the plane back to Seoul in the morning.
Since then, they’ve been slowly slipping out of Namjoon’s room, up until the only ones left are him and Jin.
Jin sits on the bed while Namjoon sits on the floor, facing him. They’ve gotten to that point in their conversation where they get emotional and personal, while still trying to keep the mood light enough. This wasn’t atypical of them—they’ve always had to take on considerable responsibility and therefore pressure, being the leader and the eldest. And while Namjoon initially had a hard time understanding the kind of person Jin was, it didn’t take long for them to find comfort in each other’s parallel circumstances, to know they had someone who related to them in a way the others couldn’t.
Namjoon’s always found that, after Yoongi, he could be the most honest with Jin—not even because he means to, most times. Despite his celebrity persona, despite all the jokes, Jin has just always had a way with words that makes Namjoon forget restraint and end up rambling on and on about whatever his brain decided to get hung up on, even things he thought he’d forgotten about, things he’d never meant to tell him. And Jin was there to listen to it all. He was there to ask if he wanted advice or comfort. He was there to guide him and hold him when he couldn’t think straight.
And just as Namjoon did for him, he put a comforting hand on his back, he offered the best advice he could, he reassured and reminded him that he wasn’t alone.
And maybe all of this—plus the fact that he probably drank a tad too much for the word “tipsy” to still be appropriate—is what, after a moment of silence settles upon them, prompts him to say:
“Sometimes, I worry I’m too small.”
He doesn’t look at Jin when he says it. He just blankly stares at the floor in front of him like he’s zoned out and left his brain on auto-pilot.
Jin is quiet for a moment. “Huh?” he voices, “What are you talking about?” His voice is filled with confusion, his brain also slowed down from the alcohol, like he can’t possibly hazard a guess as to what Namjoon’s referring to. It’s not like 5’11’’ Namjoon could be talking about his height, after all, nor his body for that matter; Namjoon’s always been a little bulky, but with his recent workout sessions, his whole body’s been corded with muscles.
Namjoon shifts on the floor, bringing his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t know, I just… I feel like I’m not big compared to other guys.” He mumbles
“Compared to other guys…” Jin repeats under his breath as though saying it himself will make something click in his brain.
And to be fair, it seems to work because the next thing Jin says is: “Oh, your dick?”
Namjoon stops breathing for a second. “Yeah,” he hugs himself tighter.
The room falls back into silence again and Namjoon thinks this might just be it. Just a thought that’s been stuck in the back of his head for decades slipping out and lingering in the air. It’s not like Jin could relate anway (see: his famously lone scandal).
But then, Jin says something Namjoon would never have even considered as a possibility.
“You wanna show me?”
Said casually, like it’s no big deal to ask your friend and bandmate to see his dick (which, quite frankly, isn’t that weird considering the group’s history—it’s actually somehow weirder Jin hasn’t seen it yet).
Namjoon’s head shoots straight up to meet Jin’s eyes. “What?” his mouth moves on its own out of pure shock.
Jin just shrugs nonchalantly, “I could tell you whether it’s small or not if I see it.”
Namjoon’s brain buffers, suddenly feeling like he’s been dunked in the arctic ocean. “Uh.” is all he manages to eke out, his face heating up.
He hears Jin laugh lightly, “Oh, come on,” he waves his hand, “I’m just curious—I mean… I want to help you out,” he teases, smiling at him.
Namjoon just stays silent and unblinking, staring at Jin like he’s grown three heads (honestly, he might as well have). He can’t tell if the implication that Jin wants to see his dick arouses him or terrifies him.
On one hand, who is he to deny a good-looking guy's god given right to see his dick? But on the other hand, who would he—they be if he does show him? What if Jin finds out he really is in the Top 10 smallest guys ever and never sees him the same? But at the same time… Jin wants to see his dick. If this isn’t straight out of one of his shameful, repressed dreams, what is?
Jin must see the war going on in his mind because his smile droops and he looks down at his hands. “Not that you have to…” he shrugs again, this time much less casually, “I was just trying to help.”
Namjoon's most likely still rather inebriated, because somehow, seeing Jin coil into himself with a sheepish look on his face makes his chest twist and that’s enough to settle it for him. What’s the worst that could happen?
He gets up awkwardly and moves to stand in front of where Jin sits. He looks left and right like some paparazzi—or worse, one of his members—could walk in at that exact moment, despite the windows being closed, the door locked, and it being the middle of the night.
He sighs and, before he can talk himself out of it, grabs the hem of his pants and his boxers at the same time and pulls them down in one brief motion, looking down at himself and the man who sits silently before him.
Jin’s initial silence is interrupted by a tiny “whoa” that’s barely audible, but enough to make Namjoon’s heart race, and before he can say anything, Jin speaks up.
“Namjoon.” Jin looks up at him with wide eyes, “You think this…” he drops his gaze back down, “is small?”
Namjoon swallows. “I mean… yeah,” he chokes out.
Jin looks back up at him again with somehow even wider eyes. He blinks one too many times for Namjoon’s liking, like he’s trying to process the most absurd statement he’s ever heard. “Aren’t you supposed to have an IQ of 148?” He raises a brow in emphasis.
“Uh–”
Jin cuts him off again, looking back down. “Jesus, you're not even hard either…” He whispers as he leans in, tilting his head slightly, and lifts up his right hand. He pauses mere inches away from the point of no return to look Namjoon in the eye.
“Can I?” He asks, his voice almost silent.
Namjoon’s breathing picks up heavily. He wants to scream. He wants to say yes. He wants to decline. He wants Jin’s touch. He wants to hide away and never show his face again. He wants Jin.
It feels like time’s slown down, Namjoon stares unblinking at Jin for god knows how long, a million thoughts and variables racing through his mind, and somehow, the one that finishes the race first is probably the worst option.
So, naturally, he ends up giving Jin the tiniest of nods. He can briefly see Jin's small smile returning before the eldest dips his head back down.
Jin aims for the middle at first, picking it up with his index and his thumb to lift it up and it's a miracle Namjoon's managed to contain his erection, even now.
Jin's head tilts and dips—it almost seems like he's fascinated by what he's seeing, like he's never seen anything like it before. He manoeuvres it up and down, left and right, in slow, gentle movements as if he wants to memorize every freckle, every mole and every vein while he still has the chance to.
Namjoon's already half-hard when Jin moves up to the head, his middle finger having now joined the first two. His breath hitches and his whole body tenses, knees twitching but not quite buckling. Jin glances up at him, his expression unreadable. Namjoon's heartbeat picks up.
They both stay still for a moment, looking into each other's eyes as Jin's scrutinize Namjoon. This is a million shades of wrong. He shouldn't want this, he shouldn't be into this. Jin’s his friend, his hyung for goodness’ sake. He’s going to notice how turned on Namjoon is soon and think he’s some sort of creep and then write him out of his life forever. Jin just—wants to observe. What kind of guy wouldn't want to examine his friend’s dick when given the chance, right?
Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.
Namjoon does his best to stay as still as possible, like it’ll prevent Jin from noticing how disgusting he is, like the threat will go away. But then, Jin does the worst thing imaginable. He—without breaking eye contact—swipes his thumb from the underside to the slit just once, but it's enough to draw out a soft, quiet whimper from Namjoon, one that he immediately tries to suppress. Jin's eyes twitch, his face giving no sign as to what he might be thinking.
Fuck. Fuck, this is bad. Jin’s really going to hate him now. He’s definitely destroying their friendship and going to tell the others what a freak Namjoon is and his whole life will be ruined and everyone’s going to hate him and he’s going to die alone—
Jin does the same gesture again and Namjoon whimpers again—whether out of fear or pleasure is unknown to him. Jin continues and Namjoon tries his best to swallow down every sound; he bites down the inside of his cheek and momentarily ceases his breathing, but it doesn’t matter. Jin now has his thumb circling the head, passing across the slit with every loop, and Namjoon can’t physically stop the sounds despite his best efforts.
The last shred of dignity leaves Namjoon when Jin wraps his hand fully around Namjoon and pumps once, staying attentive to Namjoon's every reaction, much to his embarrassment.
Another small noise is torn out from Namjoon and that’s when his cock pretty much immediately hardens fully under Jin's touch.
Shit.
Jin pumps his hand a second, then third, then fourth time and so on and so forth until Namjoon can't keep track anymore. He moves in slow and steady motions, from the base to the head, where he flicks his wrist in a way that has practically imperceptible moans escape Namjoon. It’s only after about the 8th pump that Namjoon doesn’t remember what he was worried about anymore, alcohol or lust or both clouding his judgement.
His hips thrust forward and precum starts to leak out of him. Namjoon thinks this has to be the most humiliating night of his life, but Jin, who still leans forward awkwardly from his spot on the bed, catches it in his mouth and lightly sucks at the tip, glancing up at Namjoon in the process. Namjoon's knees actually buckle this time as he tries to reach for nonexistent surfaces to grip.
Jin gives him a brief sly smile before he hums and pulls back, letting go of Namjoon's cock fully. He rolls his shoulder back as means to crack his back and brushes his thumb on his bottom lip, blinking heavily.
Namjoon’s fears are pretty much immediately back. He anticipates the worst; Jin up and leaving saying this was a mistake, him calling Namjoon a weird pervert for letting this drag on, or him sucking Namjoon off just to bite his dick, leaving permanent scars. He can't recognize whether the last is a rational fear from his usual overthinking brain that always seems to be working against him or from the remaining alcohol in his system.
He's standing there frozen with his eyes wide and his cock hard when Jin looks back up at him. "Sit." He pats the empty space next to him.
Namjoon gulps and does as he's told, like a robot custom made to obey Jin's every word. (Not a great one though, since he stumbles over his messily discarded pants and underwear before sitting down.)
The second his weight dips the mattress, Jin gets up to drop to his knees in front of Namjoon. He nudges his legs further apart to settle between them and take hold of Namjoon's cock again.
Jin starts to stroke him again and Namjoon lets out a shaky sigh, his fingers curling in the sheets, half in eagerness, half in anxiety that still bubbles inside him.
Jin tilts his head to the side marginally. He tightens the grip he has on Namjoon, gaining him a low groan at the back of the leader’s throat as his legs tense. He seems—weirdly elated at the discovery, which in turn makes Namjoon's heart skip a beat.
When he loosens it back, Namjoon’s body relaxes by a fraction and he manages to keep quiet, but that’s not what Jin wants, apparently, because he doesn't take long to start re-tightening it gradually, like he’s trying to test the limits of what it takes for Namjoon to crack again.
Namjoon bites his lip hard to keep from making any more incriminating noises, his shoulders and arms are tense, his eyes squeezed shut, like he's holding back from giving into this too much, like Jin’s still just… intrigued and trying to help, and not giving him a full-on handjob.
“Namjoon.” Jin’s hand stills. Namjoon opens his eyes back up slowly. “Relax,” his voice is soft and soothing, “You think too much. Just enjoy it,” his other hand gently caresses Namjoon’s thigh, “Just for tonight.”
Just for tonight.
Namjoon takes deep, wavering breaths and he blinks rapidly. Jin knows him. Namjoon knows Jin. He knows Jin is level-headed, he wouldn’t do anything if he didn’t consider the consequences of it beforehand.
Namjoon trusts him, borderline implicitly. Maybe he shouldn’t, but the way Jin looks up at him, the way he speaks to him makes Namjoon feel like nothing could ever go wrong. Like he really can just… let go for once. Like he can allow himself something instead of worrying about every possible outcome.
So he does; he gives Jin a second small nod for the night and lets himself relax under his touch.
Jin gives him a smile that doesn’t look entirely content, and, with his eyes locked onto Namjoon's, he dips Namjoon's cock toward himself and leans forward to rest his lips at the top and let spit drip over the head. Namjoon doesn’t stop himself from moaning this time and his eyes flutter, somehow managing to maintain eye contact throughout the sight of Jin's plush lips on his cock. His hips buck without permission into the soft pillow of Jin’s mouth, and the older man pulls back with the hint of a grin.
"Not yet." He whispers, soft but commanding, and again Namjoon moans and his hips twitch at the implication. He doesn’t mean to, he just… can’t help it. Jin huffs out a hushed laugh as he looks back down.
Namjoon feels a flush of embarrassment for a second, but doesn’t have the time to get sucked into his own head again as Jin brings his hand up to smear the drool from the top to the bottom of his cock, making Namjoon’s breath stutter. His pace begins to quicken and Namjoon keens at the sensation. His grip is tight, but not enough to hurt. His speed is fast, but just enough to keep him from cumming already and making a fool of himself.
Namjoon can feel Jin's hot breath against his skin when the older grabs the base with his left hand to be able to steadily rub his right palm over the head.
"Fuck–!" Namjoon throws his head back as his eyes flutter.
Jin stills for a second, and Namjoon hears the faint gasp he lets out, like he's made some incredible discovery. When Namjoon looks back down at him—traumatized—,Jin’s watching him with big, round eyes.
He repeats the movement once, this time with added pressure, and Namjoon whines unwillingly and slaps a hand over his mouth in terror.
Jin beams at this, and starts to move his hand again and again, drawing out more noises from Namjoon. His eyes narrow, a smug smirk on his face. “Like that?” He breathes out.
Namjoon moans louder and he blushes at Jin’s assertive tone. “Mmhhm” he replies, the sound muffled by his palm.
Jin's hand follows fast, unrelenting circular motions, enveloping the head. Namjoon can't even think anymore, the overwhelming sensation spreading through his entire body. His hand drops down to free his moans and he makes sounds he doesn't even recognize as his own.
"Nngh— Hyung—" he whimpers, his thighs trembling around Jin's shape. He feels the older man's breath grow increasingly laboured against his cock and fuck, he's never wanted anybody this bad in his entire life.
His fingers grip the sheets impossibly tight but it's not enough. His toes curl against the hard floor while he writhes and moans in a way he never has before, but Jin doesn't stop—if anything, he goes faster, puts more pressure, and then starts stroking him with his other hand in time.
Namjoon's vision goes blurry. If he doesn't cum soon, he's going to have to start considering religious faith. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think about anything else to distract himself, but it's like his brain powered down the second Jin laid a finger on him. His whole head is empty, like he's been brought into a trance by his touch.
Sure, he's gotten handjobs before, and while, yes, they always feel great, this time is different. This time it's Jin. Jin, who he's known for years and years. Jin, who's the eldest member of the group of which Namjoon is the leader. Jin, with whom he definitely should not be doing this ever.
It's also Jin that apparently has a secret talent for giving eye-rolling handjobs like Namjoon never knew was possible.
Where the fuck did he learn to do this?
Out of every member, Jin is probably the last he'd ever expect this from, but, well, he's not complaining.
But he does almost start to when Jin seems to come to his senses and notice how close Namjoon is getting; he slows down considerably and Namjoon whines in frustration.
Jin lets his left hand drift away and be replaced by his right at the base. He rubs the underside of Namjoon's cock gently with his thumb, almost like he's trying to soothe him, but it mostly keeps him on edge.
Namjoon still has his head thrown back with his eyes closed as he tries to steady his breathing. His chest hitches with every inhale, every breath he takes shaky. His whole body trembles like a leaf and he's somewhat grateful for Jin's tight grip at the base that doesn't let him utterly humiliate himself.
He blinks his eyes open a few times when he feels Jin's soft but slightly chapped lips pressing against his leg, kissing their way up his thigh. Just soft, feather light pecks against his skin, but it's enough for him to already get desperate for more.
When his eyes go back into focus, he drops his head down to look at him. Jin's eyes are hooded, almost closed as he gets closer and closer to the throbbing ache between Namjoon's legs.
Namjoon's cock twitches in Jin's hand with anticipation, making the older man glance up at him. Namjoon gulps.
Jin just stares for a second. "Impatient..." He coos under his breath in a teasingly scolding tone, which, for some reason Namjoon very much does not want to think about right now, brings out the same spasm.
Jin breathes out a laugh through his nose and dips his head to kiss the base. He trails pecks all the way to the head before moving back down to lick a stripe up the underside of Namjoon's cock, all while keeping his eyes on him.
Namjoon's willpower is growing weaker with every passing second. If Jin keeps going like this, teasing him to no end, Namjoon's bound to snap at some point, bound to put his hand in Jin's hair and pull him onto his cock himself once and for all.
It's when Jin starts to suck at the skin, making his way back down, that Namjoon starts to leak all over himself again. Under normal circumstances, he'd feel embarrassed by how turned on he is, but he can’t bother with that while Jin—the single most handsome guy in the nation—is seconds away from giving him a blowjob.
Jin moves back up, still looking up at Namjoon, and sticks his tongue out to catch every last drop. He licks up the sides and swirls his tongue all the way around until he reaches the head where he promptly wraps his lips and sucks. His tongue grazes the slit and Namjoon won’t—or can't—stop the quiet, needy moans coming from the back of his throat. Jin hums in delight and keeps licking and sucking repeatedly, Namjoon’s moans growing more desperate with every flick of his tongue.
Namjoon’s fears start to seep back in at the sound of his own voice. Fuck, they shouldn’t be doing this. This is a crazy, perverted and so unbelievably selfish fantasy that should have always been kept in late night dreams and fleeting touches that definitely never meant anything. They’re in the biggest group in the world. They have a duty to their members, to their fans. Namjoon has a duty to set the example as the leader, the duty to keep everything proper and under control. If anyone were to find out, it would ruin them, and even if no one did, doing this could change their relationship forever and affect the group and ultimately lead to their demise and it’ll all be his fault and—
Jin wraps his mouth fully around Namjoon and bobs his head down as far as he can. One of his hand braces on Namjoon’s thigh while the other stays gripping at the base of his cock.
“Ah–!” Namjoon tilts his head back with a moan and just like that, his entire brain is quiet again. All he can think of is: Jin, his hands, his mouth, the wet heat enveloping him, Jin, Jin, Jin .
It’s almost like Jin has a gift for noticing when Namjoon gets too stuck in his own head and brings him back to the moment to block out his worries and replace them with irresistible pleasure.
Namjoon looks back down at the man below him because he’d hate himself if he missed his chance to witness such a sight. The way Jin’s plump, pink lips wrap around him is sinful. They’re already shiny with spit, just as Namjoon’s cock is, and he just might think watching it disappear into Jin’s mouth over and over is better than any artwork of any museum he’s ever been to.
Jin isn’t looking up at him anymore—instead, he looks down with furrowed eyebrows like Namjoon’s cock insulted his mother. He pulls back with a pop, his chest heaving, and glares still.
“God,” he whispers, his eyes widening in awe, nearly crossing from how closely he’s observing, “how the fuck did you think you were small?” he mutters, perhaps to himself out of pure confusion. Namjoon can feel his blush grow more pronounced down his neck and chest.
Before he can even process his words, though, Jin sinks back down with renewed fervor, still glowering like he’s mad he can’t take all of him in at once. Namjoon’s hand flies to latch onto Jin’s forearm, fingers digging into the skin so hard it turns white. He forces himself to keep his head down and eyes open, refusing to miss a single part of this for anything. He sees Jin bob his head and pump and twist his hand around the portion he can’t reach.
“Shit– Mmhn~!” Namjoon shuts his eyes unintentionally and his hand drags up to grab desperately at Jin’s hair and he tugs and pulls like he has a vendetta against his hair stylist.
Jin makes a pleased sound around him and his hand lets go of Namjoon’s cock to settle against his hip. He pulls Namjoon closer to the edge of the bed, as to give himself the space to take more of him in, the motion itself already inducing him to. He stills for a second to let his throat loosen around the intrusion.
Namjoon lets out a guttural groan and his chest heaves fiercely. He drops his hand back down to Jin’s shoulder and opens his eyes back up, which is a big mistake because Jin.
Jin’s face is flushed, his hair is a mess, sticking up in every direction imaginable, his eyes are half-lidded, his lips are swollen and spit-licked and he looks completely, utterly sexed out. Namjoon moans just at the view and his hips twitch, making Jin shut his eyes briefly and choke around him.
“S…sorry…” Namjoon can barely even speak properly.
Jin blinks up at him and hums, the vibrations sending a shiver through Namjoon. He groans and has to hold onto Jin’s shirt to keep from bucking his hips again.
Jin sinks down further and further, his throat tight and hot around Namjoon, until his nose touches the hem of Namjoon's shirt. He's squinting now, but still makes it a point to keep his eyes on Namjoon, which just makes it harder for Namjoon to contain himself.
His whole body is locked up, his skin feels too tight like he needs to break out of it. It takes every last drop of restraint he has not to fuck up into Jin's mouth right then and there.
This is insane. He knows it is. But he never wants it to stop. No blowjob, not even sex has ever had him feeling like this, had him this desperate and aching.
Jin swallows around him once and the tightening of his throat gets Namjoon's hips jerking and his voice to crack around a whimper and he instantly knows he messed up because Jin's mouth is off him in a second.
Jin coughs quietly into his hand and his eyes flicker rapidly when he lifts his head back up, like he's dizzy from it all.
"Are you—" Namjoon coughs at his turn, "are you okay?" he asks, awkwardly. It's not like it's really the time for small talk when you're throbbing and leaking and your friend has been sucking you off, but he still needs to make sure he hasn't somehow broken his hyung's vocal cords permanently and ruined his career in a new, unforeseen way.
Jin doesn't look up at him. "Fine," he nods, his voice hushed and strained, “just let me do this, yeah?”
Namjoon wants to tell him to stop, to tell him he doesn’t need to do this for him, but Jin too quickly takes Namjoon's cock in his hand again to bring it closer to him. His eyelids flutter, full of lust, and his Adam's apple bobs before he leans forward to go down on Namjoon fully once again.
Namjoon chokes on a moan, barely even registering that he's shaking already. It's pathetic how affected he is by the simplest touch, but he doesn't have the mental capacity to worry about that right now.
Jin hollows his cheeks and flattens his tongue and he takes all of him in over and over. The warmth that engulfs Namjoon and the wet sounds of Jin deepthroating him is all too much to bear. It's obscene and overwhelming in the best way possible.
Namjoon grinds up without meaning to once again, the feeling of Jin too good for any self control to remain, which proves to be a mistake because Jin pulls back almost instantaneously once again.
"No—!" Namjoon gasps, and before he can stop himself to think, he looks down at Jin's flushed face and says: "Please, I—" he gulps, "I'll be good, I—I promise, just don't–” he shakes his head, “don’t stop…" his whole body shakes so strongly you’d almost believe an earthquake erupted.
Jin's initial look of disappointment turns to surprise—his eyes widen at what he hears and Namjoon thinks he might have gone too far this time. His vision gets shaky in a panic, his ears burn and ring in his head. He tries to open his mouth to go back on his words, but not a sound comes out.
Jin inhales deeply and lets go of Namjoon at once. Namjoon hates the now unfamiliar absence of Jin's warmth and has to fight the instinct to beg and apologize profusely, whether for his unbecoming behaviour or for misbehaving.
He sees Jin's eyes darken as they pierce into his own, his expression turned cool and composed like he's in full control of the situation (he is.). Namjoon feels small under his gaze.
Jin's hands trail up Namjoon's legs up to his thighs, his palm caressing the warm skin. His thumbs dig into the inside of his thigh, his fingers massaging the muscle tenderly while keeping him spread apart.
He looks up intently at Namjoon and leans in so that his lips lightly graze Namjoon's cock.
"You promise?"
Namjoon forgets how to breathe and he personally thanks whatever entity is out there that his body doesn't do anything stupid like buck up again.
Namjoon nods vigorously and exhales sharply, no shame left within him. "Yes, please, I—" he catches his breath, "I'll do anything."
Jin keeps his expression calm and assessing, but the way his eyebrows raise for less than half a second and the way his breathing wobbles gives him away; he's losing his composure too.
Jin's hands move up to his groin, holding him down steadily while his mouth closes around him again, and he's quick to fall back into his earlier cadence and Namjoon is right back to his recently discovered horrifyingly needy self.
The longer Jin continues the motion, the more Namjoon becomes a mess; his lips are parted, letting needy sobs tear their way from his chest, his eyes roll back so far he swears he can see his own brain, his head is tilted back because he can't physically endure the sight of Jin going down on him anymore. He's got a hand back in Jin's hair now, the veins on his arms bulging out of his skin like they're seconds away from popping as he grips so tightly he's sure he'll end up with some of Jin's DNA coursing through him.
Jin’s hands travel to Namjoon’s stomach, like he wants to feel his abs contract under his fingers with every glide of his mouth. He continues to suck him off greedily, flooding the room with loud, vulgar slurping noises. And he keeps his eyes on Namjoon the entire time.
He’s been staring at Namjoon since all of this started. He’s been experimenting with different techniques like he wants to figure out just what makes him tick, what gets his eyes rolling back into his skull. Like Jin’s a scientist and Namjoon’s his own personal test subject he gets to analyze, like he’s something Jin’s been trying to decipher for years.
It's filthy and crude and Namjoon can't get enough of it. He feels like he's drowning in it, like the only thing keeping him afloat is his hold on Jin's curls. He's sweating and babbling nonsense, like every bob of Jin's head takes a point off his IQ. He moans what might be Jin's name, but it's all unintelligible cries and whines.
His hips jerk up inadvertently into Jin's mouth again, but Jin doesn’t pull away this time. Instead, he moves his hands to hold him down firmly, his fingers digging into the bare flesh. He somehow speeds up even more, devouring him harder as tightens his lips some more like a suction cup.
Namjoon squirms and whines again, tries to lift hips but doesn't have the strength to fight back fully against Jin's grip.
"P...please, ha… hyung— Ah!" he wails, still writhing on the bed, "I... I can't—" he chokes, letting out a strangled moan.
God, what the fuck is happening to him?
He's never known himself to be this wrecked and hungry for anybody. If anything, he's usually the one more under control, but now he's whimpering and pleading as though his life is at stake. His voice is uncharacteristically high to the point it doesn't sound like him anymore, like he's just listening in on someone else getting sucked off.
Jin pulls off him swiftly and Namjoon bucks his hips in the air, frustrated at the sudden lack of Jin's warmth submerging him.
"You can't?" Jin's voice is scratchy from overexertion, out of breath. His hand quickly moves to grasp the base of Namjoon's cock tightly to ensure he doesn't cum just yet.
"N-no... Please..." Namjoon’s hand falls out of Jin’s hair and he looks back down at him, his eyebrows arched up in desperation, panting like he's run seven 5k's back to back.
Jin hums, "You wanna fuck my mouth?" His voice is low and tempting.
Namjoon's breath hitches as he inhales sharply and his cock jolts. His eyes grow wide and he can't seem to utter a word, so he just nods exuberantly.
Jin tightens his grip, in a way that almost hurts, but also turns Namjoon on some more, "Use your words." He commands in an annoyingly gentle voice, like Namjoon needs to be taught, needs to be trained and punished when he acts out (he does).
"Yes," he chokes out, "Yes, I do, I want— please," his words tumble out. He can't quite bring himself to say the words out loud—the fact that he's begging to begin with foreign to him.
But Jin lets him get away with it (for now, at least). "Okay," he whispers after a beat, his voice soft but assured, and he takes Namjoon back in halfway through, which is enough for his hips to twitch again.
And that's when Namjoon sees it. Sees him—maybe for the first time tonight. The look Jin gives him, something Namjoon doesn't think he's ever noticed before.
His eyes are slightly hooded like they’ve been this entire time, but it's not quite lust—Namjoon can't pinpoint it, but it runs much deeper than that. There's a certain shine in his eyes in the dim lighting of the room. Like he trusts him. Like, behind his controlling, more authoritative and clinical demeanor, his sole focus is on making sure Namjoon feels good, feels that relief. Like he wants to take him apart so Namjoon can have someone take care of him for once. Almost like he...
Jin hums around Namjoon, pulling him back into reality. Namjoon groans faintly. He sneaks a hand back up to the nape of Jin’s neck and threads his fingers through the strands of his hair.
"Are you sure?" Namjoon feels the need to confirm, even now.
Jin swallows around him in response and Namjoon lets out a rough grunt.
He thrusts up once experimentally, holding onto the tiniest thread of self-control that remains. When Jin doesn't react except for a tight blink, Namjoon rolls his hips slowly again. And another time. And yet another time, until his rhythm grows sloppy, uncoordinated and rapid. He drags Jin’s head down on his cock in time, and Jin just takes it all, only slightly choking when Namjoon hits the back of his throat, the sound of it making Namjoon slowly lose his mind (or at least what’s left of it).
Namjoon's grip gets tighter in Jin's hair while his mouth is back to echoing needy sounds of pleasure. He isn't going to last much longer at this rate, the sounds and heat and stench trapped in the room, the uncontrollable movement of his hips, Jin . He’s already starting to get dizzy again.
The fraction of Namjoon's brain that still works starts thinking again—but not in an anxious way this time (he's too far gone for that part to still be active). Instead, he thinks about warning Jin before he cums down his throat, but then Jin moans around him, like he can't get enough, like the taste of Namjoon is exquisite. The vibration with everything else combined has Namjoon crying out loudly in a guttural scream and spilling inside of Jin.
He's been teased and edged for what feels like hours on end, and it's like the dam finally breaks. He cums spectacularly, losing control of his body. His hips jerk harshly with no cadence and his hand pushes Jin's head down impossibly close. His back arches and his legs clench around the older man's frame, effectively trapping him beneath him, and broken sobs keep pouring out from the back of his throat. His entire body tenses and spasms feverishly, his orgasm crashing over him in waves.
When he's finally emptied out after what was probably the biggest orgasm of his life, he feels light, his muscles relaxing, the whole encounter an out-of-body experience. He's sticky with sweat, his thighs ache and his body temprature's shot. He tries to open his eyes, but the room spins around him and he can't physically keep them peeled. It starts to get too difficult to stay upright, so he lets his body tip over until his back hits the mattress.
The air around him is heavy and the whole room reeks of sex. He's trembling, still catching his breath, and teetering on the edge of oblivion, but he can still feel and hear Jin breathing heavily when he slides off Namjoon, the stickiness and cold air of the room hitting him abruptly. HIs cock hits his abdomen with a wet thud , his shirt having ridden up since he laid down.
He hears Jin moving around the room to get one of many small hand towels and run it under warm water. The sound of the water flowing almost puts Namjoon to sleep right then and there, but Jin soon comes back and softly presses against the inside of his thighs, and Namjoon swears he can feel Jin’s lips press against his skin for half a second, but that might be because of his state of delirium.
Jin makes his way up to his stomach and cock and Namjoon hisses softly at the touch, still over sensitive.
Jin inhales softly, his breath catching in his throat. “Sorry,” he whispers, his free hand briefly rubbing at his side comfortingly, but it's gone far too quickly.
He heads back to the bathroom to throw the dirtied towel in the hamper and when he returns, Jin stands before Namjoon, the latter finally managing to open his eyes fully to look up at him—Jin being but a shadow looking down on him.
Namjoon sits up clumsily, his body still feeling like it's floating. He holds himself up on two hands and they stare at each other, Jin adopting that same unreadable expression.
Neither of them utter a single word, but Namjoon grabs Jin by the waistband and tugs him closer, until his chin and neck rest against Jin's abdomen. He doesn't think about what he's doing anymore. He doesn't care—none of it matters to him. Not when Jin sucked him off so good he saw stars. Not when Jin took care of him, not when he’s still here, warm and solid in front of Namjoon.
Tomorrow, he'll probably drive himself crazy over what went down, over what it all means and the ramifications, but for now, he's so blissed out, the word "worry" isn't even in his vocabulary.
Jin sneaks a hand in Namjoon's hair, massaging his scalp gently. Namjoon's eyes flutter and he lets out a soft sigh of contentment. He wishes he could stay right here, like this, for ever and ever.
Namjoon's other hand trails up to cup Jin through his sweatpants and he inhales sharply when he feels it. Jin's hard. Like, unbelievably hard, to the point Namjoon almost believes he's shoved a rock in his sweats.
But he definitely didn't, because when Namjoon starts to rub his hand against it, Jin inhales shakily, his breathing uneven.
Namjoon continues his ministrations, slow and gentle, but when he goes to hook a finger on his waistband, Jin's hand is suddenly on his wrist. Namjoon freezes, blinking up at him. Jin’s mouth curls slightly and when he speaks up, it's in a whisper.
"You're not ready for that, yet."
Namjoon's heart skips a beat, he wants to argue, he wants to tell him that he's ready and willing for anything, that he wants to make Jin feel good, just like he did for him, but all of a sudden, it's too late. Jin's already pulling back, letting his hands fall to his sides as he makes his way to the hotel room's door.
Namjoon watches him walk away, mouth slightly agape, unable to get a single word out, his heart in his throat.
Jin opens the door, but before he fully leaves, he turns his head back by a fraction. "Goodnight, Namjoon-ah."
He steps out into the dim hallway and closes the door gently.
Namjoon hears the door lock and he still can't move, can't do anything but stare at it.
Why does he already want more?