“Is this love?”
He doesn’t really know how to follow; it’s so hard to know what’s going on in Jimin’s head, especially at times like this. Yoongi gazes up at him, dazed, breathless, and holding on for all he’s worth, eyes half lidded, short nails digging into Jimin’s tanned skin. A long, low, almost painful moan is drawn out of Yoongi as Jimin presses into him, slow and careful. The touch of his hand as it slides up Yoongi’s bare chest is so tender, there’s so much care in the way he caresses the elder’s face before his fingers slide into the messy mint hair. He’s so close but Yoongi can’t help trying to tug him closer, wanting –no needing to feel his warmth all over. He takes guilty comfort from the softness of the duvet beneath him, the feel of the cotton against his naked skin as he’s pushed down into the mattress, pace so slow he could cry. No, he is crying, crystal tears caught in limbo on the ends of fine lashes. It’s so good and so painful and it tugs at his heart. Because Jimin only treats him this way at times like this.
The redhead’s hands slide down Yoongi’s sides, following the contours of his waist and moving out over his hips. Moan after choked moan falls from his lips. It’s all he can do to breathlessly gasp the other’s name, complying as Jimin hooks slender legs over his hips, kneels, and hoists Yoongi into his lap. He grunts softly, then groans as Yoongi’s weight sinks onto him, the elder arching away from him, crying out as the tears finally fall, alongside them, into ecstasy.
Even though his vision blurs and his thoughts turn to static, Yoongi can feel the hands of the younger man, soothing him, coaxing him out the other side, even as they moan in unison, both overtaken by pleasure. Is this really all a lie?
“Hyung!” Jimin shrieks, laughing and throwing himself onto Yoongi’s back, making the other man stumble sideways somewhat unsteadily. Yoongi shakes his head to clear it. Honestly, it’s like having whiplash. The first day after is always the worst.
The smile he gives Jimin isn’t quite convincing, but if the redhead notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“Hyung, will you come and play with me and Taehyung?” He gushes, slinging his arm back around Yoongi’s shoulder, only to have it shrugged off yet again.
“I’m not sure that-” He begins, surprised by the rough quality of his own voice when he speaks. Jimin’s eyes widen and then he guffaws loudly, pointing rudely at his hyung as he doubles up with laughter.
“Oh my gosh, hyung, your voice!” He half squeaks, half yells the last word, attracting the attention of the rest of their friends who are approaching from all directions. Yoongi aims a sharp kick at the redhead’s shin.
“This is your fault.” He mutters low enough for no one else to hear. Jimin can’t keep the smug smile off his face, proud of his work. Yoongi is just directing a fiery glare in his direction when a hand firmly cuffs him over the head. He stumbles yet again, but this time Hoseok catches him, setting him upright with a soft chuckle.
“Don’t mistreat your darling dongsaengs!” Seokjin’s voice rings out imperiously.
“I can’t but you can?” Yoongi retorts, looking up at the other through his fringe.
“You’re nobody’s darling.” Jin replies offhandedly. He knows it’s a joke but it still stings. He finds his eyes drawn to Jimin running about with Taehyung.
It’s only later when he’s lying on the grass, Jungkook asleep with his head resting on his stomach that those words really sink in.
“You should stop leading him by the nose…” He hears Taehyung’s low voice sound out.
“I don’t think it’s by the nose, Tae.” Jimin giggles and Yoongi’s stomach plummets. “Anyway, I’m not leading him on, we have boundaries.”
“If you need boundaries, you’re leading him on. We can always tell when something’s gone down because he turns up the next day like a kicked puppy and you’re higher than ever. This has got to stop.”
“Or we could date?” Yoongi’s stomach momentarily soars, before he hears the snort that accompanies that comment. Never mind.