Chapter Text
It always goes like this.
“Whoever fed this Darius, I hope your pillow is warm on both sides,” Taehyung spits down the mic, a loud slam is heard through Jeongguk’s headphones, which could only be his best friend slamming his keyboard in a League of Legends-fuelled rage. Rightly so.
“This Varus has thirty-two CS. What kind of MMR are we in right now? Jesus fucking Christ,” Jeongguk comments in matching anger; they do manage to destroy mid-lane inhibitor, so, you know, small victories.
“We should be at a bar right now, instead of playing League, like losers.”
“We are losers.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“You’re the one who wanted to climb the ranks. We could actually be at a bar, but you trapped me in a losing streak. I’ve lost so much LP, I hope you know that,” Jeongguk chuckles, but on some level, he doesn’t really mind staying in and playing video games all night.
“Not my fault we’re getting fucked by shitty teammates. Imagine we had an ADC that didn’t die three hundred and fifty thousand times before ten minutes; we could be Challenger.”
“Fucksake, why is their whole fucking team camping river brush? Is Dommy Mommy Bel’veth that scary?” Jeongguk’s character (A void empress, who most certainly is a Dommy Mommy) dies, whilst he’s retreating into his jungle, and of course, the top laner Darius gets the kill.
“They’re imbeciles, too. We’re surrounded by imbeciles. It’s doomed.”
“I’m gonna get a beer. I hope they end before I get back so we can queue again; otherwise, I’ll lose my mind.” Taehyung hums in agreement, and Jeongguk makes his way to grab a beer from the fridge.
His phone vibrates atop his desk as he returns, so he takes a glance as he situates himself back in his chair, taking a swig from the cold bottle.
jiminie-hyung
can i come over?
Jeongguk’s stomach does a swoopy thing, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he reads the message.
It’s Friday night; Jimin usually messages him at this time and especially on a Friday, so like clockwork, Jeongguk types out a quick reply - which, naturally, is a yes - and braces himself for Taehyung’s wrath.
“I’m back.”
“Darius got a quadra, so it’s game over, really.”
“Surrender vote and let’s get out of here.”
“I bet that Varus is gonna vote ‘no’ just to spite.”
By the grace of some higher power, there are five votes for ‘yes’. Jeongguk breathes a sigh of relief and queues up another match.
“This is gonna be my last one,” Jeongguk says nervously. It takes Jimin about an hour after he messages to turn up, usually, so he should have ample time for one more match. Jimin never rushes.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Taehyung replies, and Jeongguk knows that, somehow, Taehyung sees right through him. Best friend intuition, or maybe it’s because it’s certainly not the first time this has happened. “He on his way over?”
“Uh, yeah. About-“
“About an hour. Yeah, I know,” Taehyung finishes quickly, disdain clear in his voice. There’s the usual niggling of guilt in Jeongguk’s stomach, but it’s not enough to say no to Jimin. It never is.
The silence that follows is tense, the rain beating down heavily against his apartment window. Jeongguk holds his breath and waits for Taehyung to relieve him of his guilt.
This time, it doesn’t come.
“You know he’s using you, right?” Jeongguk knows what Taehyung thinks; they’ve had this conversation before. And Jeongguk knows Taehyung means well, but he’s sick to death of the same conversation. Logic has no place when it comes to Jimin.
“Don’t start, hyung. I don’t wanna fight about this.”
“You’re ditching me for a shitty, meaningless lay, Gguk-ah. Sorry I’m pissed off about that.”
“Don’t talk about him like that.”
“I can’t believe you’re still defending him. He is a shitty lay and a shitty person. I hope you tell him I said that.”
“Taehyung-“
“You know I don’t really feel like playing another one anymore.” Before Jeongguk even has a chance to convince him otherwise, Taehyung leaves the queue and closes his game. “Message me when you’ve stopped being an ass.” The call ends abruptly, and Jeongguk has to swallow all the saliva that has quickly built up in his mouth from anxiety.
He hates fighting with Taehyung, period. But he hates fighting with him about Jimin more.
He sips his beer as he stares at the League client, taking a deep breath through his guilt before shutting off his computer and heading out to the balcony of his apartment.
In the quiet part of Jeongguk’s mind, which isn’t overcome with Jimin, he knows Taehyung is right, but he refuses to fully believe his harsh but somewhat truthful comments. He knows it comes from a place of love, but Taehyung has always been a little hot-headed, so it doesn’t take much for the same old argument to resurface.
Jeongguk finishes his beer as he looks out into the city, deciding to take a shower before Jimin arrives, though he imagines he’ll end up showering again, anyway.
The doorbell goes as Jeongguk is towelling his hair dry, forgoing a shirt for the sake of ease. “Hi,” he says, as he pulls open the door and steps aside to let Jimin in.
“Hey, long time no see,” Jimin replies in that lilting voice that has Jeongguk already under his spell, like a fisherman to a siren.
“You were here four days ago, hyung.” Jeongguk shuts the door and chucks the towel onto the couch. He’ll pick it up later, but right now he just wants his hands on Jimin and to forget everything else.
“You’re counting the days now? Someone’s desperate.” Jimin pulls off his jacket and places it on the coat stand before kicking off his Chelsea boots and stalking towards Jeongguk.
“Not desperate,” the younger mumbles, worrying his lip between his teeth.
“You sure about that, baby? You might wanna tell your cock that, seems like there’s some miscommunication.” Jimin pointedly looks at the crotch of Jeongguk’s sweatpants, which, unfortunately for Jeongguk, is indeed already tented with his growing erection. He would be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that he knows Jimin basks in the knowledge that he can rile Jeongguk up so quickly, the anticipation of what comes next stirring his cock to life.
Jeongguk forgets about the guilt gnawing at his gut from blowing off Taehyung as Jimin lifts the hem of his little, cropped white t-shirt over his head, exposing the mark next to Jimin’s nipple that Jeongguk left last time. That had gotten him into some trouble with Jimin, but the sight of the purpling against Jimin’s smooth skin makes Jeongguk’s gums ache to leave more.
“How are you?” Jeongguk asks as he takes Jimin by the waist and leans in to kiss him. He has to cover up his surprise when Jimin turns his head and slips out of his arms, walking straight towards Jeongguk’s bedroom. The younger follows as if he’s on autopilot, shoving down the hurt he feels from the rejection.
“Fine, you?” Jimin continues to undress his jeans, socks and underwear, leaving Jeongguk to ogle at his perfectly formed ass as they stumble towards Jeongguk’s bed.
“I’m okay, thanks. How was your day?” Jeongguk tries again, hoping, maybe just once, Jimin will indulge him with a conversation before things get heated. Not that Jeongguk doesn’t already feel heated from the sight of Jimin naked in front of him, but that’s beside the point.
“Boring. You gonna fuck me now?” Jimin falls back onto the mattress, his black hair fanning against the dark green sheets. So much for conversation.
“Yeah, how do you want it?” Jeongguk rids himself of his sweatpants and underwear and slots between Jimin’s spread thighs, pressing kisses to the (unfortunately) unmarked skin of his neck.
“Hard and fast. From behind.” It takes Jimin less than a second to push Jeongguk away and flip over onto his stomach. Jeongguk swallows the lump in his throat at the realisation that Jimin doesn’t want the kind of intimacy Jeongguk craves in bed. He uses the time it takes him to find a condom and lube from his bedside drawer to bite his lip to push away the tears that threaten to well up in his eyes.
“Hurry,” Jimin whines from where he’s lying flat against the bed, wiggling his ass slightly in the air. Jeongguk snaps back to reality as he coats his fingers with a glob of lube and uses his other hand to pull apart Jimin’s ass cheeks and slide his finger tentatively against Jimin’s rim.
“Come on, don’t tease.” Jimin, ever the impatient one, pushes against Jeongguk’s finger, which slips easily into his hole as he gasps out in pleasure.
“Who’s the desperate one, now, huh?” Jeongguk manages, eyes trained to where Jimin’s hole is sucking in his finger, mesmerised.
“Brat,” Jimin huffs. “I can take another, come on.” Jimin pushes himself onto his knees, arching his back. Jeongguk runs his hand along Jimin’s spine as he eases in a second finger, crooking them to the spot he knows like the back of his hand. “Oh, fuck. That’s it, baby.”
From somewhere deep within, Jeongguk musters the courage to act in the way he knows Jimin likes, despite the hollow feeling in his stomach. “You gonna cum on my fingers, hyung? Can’t even wait til I get my cock in you.”
“I might do, if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”
Jeongguk brings his hand down onto the fat of Jimin’s ass and squeezes, earning a yelp from Jimin, who curses under his breath. The younger pushes a third finger in besides the other two, twisting and sliding them in and out, as Jimin writhes beneath him.
“Watch your mouth,” he warns, which earns him another moan. The hollowness in his chest is partly replaced by a small glowing orb that makes him feel a little warm inside at the knowledge he’s making Jimin feel good; he decides to focus on that, instead of the tears caught behind his eyes.
“Oh God, I feel so good,” Jimin gasps as Jeongguk curls his fingers against his prostate and presses down.
If Jeongguk has learnt one thing from being with Jimin, it’s how to please him. And fuck if he doesn’t feel a puff of pride when he gets Jimin falling apart on his fingers, or tongue, or cock, as if he’s earned the privilege of making Jimin feel that way.
“Gonna make you feel so good, hyung. Gonna fuck you, like you want. Hard and fast, yeah?” Jeongguk tears open the condom wrapper and rolls it down his length - the touch to his aching, leaking cock almost stings with need. He drags the head along Jimin’s rim, applying pressure enough to be teasing, but not to push all the way in, and basks in being able to slow down slightly, if not just for a moment.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin growls. It’s a warning that the younger knows all too well. He’s taking too long, but he allows himself one more moment of teasing before he pushes his hips towards Jimin’s ass, as his cock stretches into Jimin’s hole.
He’d love to spend hours worshipping Jimin, gently kissing from his head right down to his ankles, before pulling him apart again and again until all the older knows is Jeongguk’s name.
But Jimin never indulges in Jeongguk’s fantasy, and Jeongguk refuses to acknowledge how much that bothers him.
The tightness and heat wrap around his cock like a vice, and he has to screw his eyes shut at the feeling, spine tingling with pleasure. “Fuck,” he gasps, his grip on Jimin’s hip tightening with every inch he pushes in, fingers digging into the porcelain skin, which begins to redden and pleases Jeongguk to no end.
“So full, fuck,” Jimin whines from beneath him, rolling his hips backwards eagerly.
“Don’t do that if you don’t want me to cum in five seconds, sweetheart.”
“I want you to cum,” Jimin retorts as he continues to grind his ass back onto Jeongguk’s cock, allowing the full length to sheath itself in Jimin’s hole, the head pressed firmly against his prostate. “And I told you not to call me that.”
Jeongguk knows he’s in trouble again, but it sounds so nice to address Jimin in that intimate way that makes Jeongguk’s heart beat a little quicker.
Thankfully, Jimin doesn’t seem too mad as he starts rocking on his knees to get Jeongguk’s cock to slide in and out of his hole. Jeongguk brings another hand down on the blooming-red skin of Jimin’s ass in reprimand. “So fucking impatient.”
“Just fuck me, already. I thought I asked you to fuck me hard and fast.” Jeongguk bites his lip and pulls his hips back before driving his cock deep into Jimin. Jimin knows exactly what to say to get Jeongguk to do his bidding, and it’s maddening, but not enough to stop the younger from doing whatever he can to please him.
The sound of Jimin’s moans and the crude slapping sound of Jeongguk’s balls against Jimin’s ass fills the bedroom as Jeongguk grips Jimin’s hips and brutally thrusts himself into his hole, the rim puffy and glistening with lube.
“Taking my cock so well, beautiful. So good for me,” Jeongguk says as he slips his hand into Jimin’s hair and yanks. Jimin’s chest lifts off the bed, and his moans increase in both intensity and volume as Jeongguk nails his prostate more firmly and the pull on his scalp sends pleasure down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck,” Jimin gasps as a hand flies down to fist at his own leaking cock, flapping between his legs. “God- I’m gonna come.”
Jeongguk is spired on even more and reaches down to grab Jimin’s cock with his own, larger hand, attaching his lips to the juncture between Jimin’s neck and shoulder.
“You feel so good, baby. I’m close. You gonna come? Gonna come on my cock, hyung?” Jeongguk rasps into Jimin’s ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth.
“Yes, fuck. Gonna come.” Jeongguk picks up the pace of his thrusts, the rub of Jimin’s walls on his cock electrifying, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
“Come on, make a mess, sweetheart.” Jeongguk squeezes and tugs at Jimin’s cock, pressing a finger into the slit and smearing precum along the length to make the slide easier.
“Shit, I’m gonna come. Oh, fuck. I’m coming- I’m coming,” Jimin chants before his head flies back and he releases white over Jeongguk’s hand; mouth open in a silent scream, a moan trapped in his throat.
The clenching of Jimin’s walls and the knowledge that he made Jimin feel that kind of pleasure is enough for Jeongguk to come into the condom, gasping out Jimin’s name and sheathing himself entirely into Jimin’s hole as he rests his head against the back of Jimin’s neck, breathing heavily.
“So good,” Jeongguk mutters as he thrusts weakly to ride out the last of his orgasm, allowing himself to kiss the skin of Jimin’s back that he can reach. Jimin lies silently, but his breathes are laboured and eyes slightly closed - Jeongguk knows he’s got, maybe thirty seconds before Jimin tells him to pull out, so he rolls them onto their side and tucks himself firmly against Jimin’s back, arm thrown over his waist, enjoying the time cuddling before Jimin comes back down to earth and realises what they’re doing.
However, a moment later, Jimin extracts himself from Jeongguk’s arms and, with a hand holding onto the base of Jeongguk’s cock and the condom, shifts himself away. Jeongguk’s cock falls out, limp, and he ties up the condom to distract himself from the fact that Jimin is already picking up his clothes to redress.
“That was great, baby. Thanks,” Jimin smiles, as he tugs on his jeans.
“Don’t thank me for stuff like that, hyung. It’s weird,” Jeongguk replies sheepishly, the hollow feeling in his stomach growing. “You can’t stay any longer?” Jimin gives him a look that Jeongguk knows well, but he decides to press on. “You know, for like, round two?” It’s truthfully just a rouse to spend more time with Jimin, but like always, Jimin doesn’t fall for it.
“Jeongguk, you know I can’t stay. Plus, I’m meeting a friend, so I have to go.” Jeongguk watches as Jimin ruffles his hair in the mirror, perhaps to rid him of the post-sex look, which just works to deepen the pit in Jeongguk’s chest.
He’s sure his whole abdomen is a void at this point.
“Meeting someone this late?” Jeongguk dares to ask, sitting up in bed and covering himself with the duvet, suddenly feeling exposed.
“Yeah. It’s called having a social life,” Jimin teases, but Jeongguk feels a little vulnerable after being intimate, so it hurts more than it should. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
Jeongguk doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods and watches as Jimin rushes out of the bedroom and hears the telltale sound of the front door shutting and locking itself before he checks his phone and falls back on the bed.
The sound of the rain is his only comfort as he finally allows himself to cry.
It hasn’t even been thirty minutes.
—————————⛆—————————
There’s radio silence from Jimin over the following days, which isn’t uncommon but still makes Jeongguk’s heart clench painfully anyway.
Whilst he wallows in his self-made despair, Jeongguk calls Taehyung to invite him over to properly apologise for leaving him to see Jimin, after he finally realises that he was being a total ass, like Taehyung had said.
He wonders sometimes if there’s a black mist that clouds over Jeongguk at the mention of Jimin, which makes him do dumb things like blow off his friends or even take a day off work just to see him for an hour. The logical part of Jeongguk’s seemingly mushy brain tells him not to be fooled by all the five foot nine inches of sex on legs and the irresistible charm that accompanies him, yet he can’t help but crawl back to Jimin whenever he calls. Maybe he’s been classically conditioned, dick hardening at a simple booty call from him, which is immediately followed by the puppy-like eagerness to please him. Freud would have a field day studying the mind of one lust-crazed Jeon Jeongguk and his very own Jimin Pleasure Principle.
When Taehyung arrives, he’s not empty-handed, and Jeongguk is reminded once again why he absolutely adores his best friend and kicks himself for ever upsetting him. The smell of the fried chicken meets Jeongguk’s nose before he even has a chance to say hello, so he ushers the taller into his apartment quickly, pulling out chopsticks and serving up two bowls of rice to go with it.
He embraces Taehyung before they begin to eat, and he’s thankful not much needs to be said to resolve their little feud, though Jeongguk still makes the effort, knowing Taehyung might appreciate his honesty more. “I’m sorry I blew you off for Jimin the other night. And I’m sorry for the other times as well. I know I’ve been a shitty friend, and I’ll try harder to make it up to you. I’m borderline obsessed with his ass, and I’m sorry that’s come between us.”
Taehyung laughs, “I think you’re fully obsessed with his ass, not just borderline.”
“It’s a great ass in fairness. I’m a simple creature,” Jeongguk jokes back, tucking into the steaming hot chicken as he sits on the floor by his coffee table.
“You’re not a simple creature, Gguk. That’s why I’m worried for you. You feel deeply about everything you do, Jimin included.” Taehyung’s eyes are far too kind and fond as they look at Jeongguk across the table, sympathy bleeding into his voice. “I don’t want you to end up getting burnt because he’s using you when you have such a good heart. Jimin is not the sun, you are.” Jeongguk’s heart clenches, and he has to look away from Taehyung’s eyes to avoid tearing up. He truly doesn’t deserve such kindness, especially after prioritising thirty minutes of sex over Taehyung’s friendship, but he supposes that’s what being best friends is all about.
“Thanks, hyung. I’m sorry again,” Jeongguk mutters, emotion caught in his throat, but Taehyung thankfully moves the conversation along.
It’s times like this, after he’s seen Jimin and the post-sex clarity washes over him for the next few days, when Jeongguk begins to wonder about the nature of their relationship, and about whether what Taehyung often says is true.
He had first met Jimin at a bar, where he’d been out drinking with his co-workers as a celebration after a big presentation. Jeongguk was instantly captivated by him - not just by his hair, which was blond at the time, but by everything about him. His laughter, his smile, the confident aura that drew everyone in. Jeongguk watched from the corner of his eye as Jimin turned away each person who braved speaking to him. Each polite rejection chipped away at Jeongguk’s confidence - there was no way Jeongguk, shy as he was, could ask him out after he rejected so many before him. So, he focused on the drinking games his co-workers dragged him into and tried not to stare.
As the night drew on, the alcohol took effect, which was why Jeongguk was so sure he was asleep and dreaming when he realised Jimin was standing in front of him and actually talking to him. It had taken him at least ten seconds for his brain to catch up.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t catch any of what you just said,” Jeongguk had blurted. “You’re just so pretty, I’m a little overwhelmed.”
He had not expected to blurt out his confession at the first meeting, but the soju had his lips moving before he could stop himself. Thankfully, Jimin had just laughed and thanked him for the compliment before giving him his number and telling him to call him.
It was the next day, after Jeongguk had woken up with a killer headache, that he typed Jimin a brief, friendly message, to which Jimin replied with a demand that he come over and fuck him silly. Of course, Jeongguk jumped at the opportunity, which, unbeknownst to him at the time, had started a chain of events leading to their “fuck buddy” arrangement.
It isn’t ideal, and Jeongguk doesn’t take himself as a hook-up kind of person. But Jimin is Jimin, and he isn’t going to waste his chance at being with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his entire life, in whatever capacity that may be.
Nobody has ever come close to Jimin, both in looks and in the way Jeongguk feels around him - giddy with excitement at a mere text message. He hopes Jimin is just as satisfied with the sex as Jeongguk is; after all, they’ve seen each other nearly twice a week for close to six months.
There is, unfortunately, an ever-growing desire to take their relationship further —if you could even call it that. Jeongguk wants more than just a quick fuck to satisfy the itch; he wants date nights and cuddling and flowers and showing the world how in love they could be.
Alas, each time Jimin comes over, it’s to chase the pleasure he knows he can get from Jeongguk and nothing more, leaving the younger to cuddle his pillow to sleep instead of him.
Their arrangement stays stagnant, but not for Jeongguk’s lack of trying, which is slowly eating its way through Jeongguk’s insides.
But for now, he’s content with having Jimin in his bed twice a week, where he can pretend there’s more to it. He must be doing something right for Jimin to be loyal to him and keep him coming back for more - that makes that little glowing orb in his chest flame, and it’s enough to forget everything Taehyung tries so hard to convince him of.
—————————⛆—————————
It never goes like this.
The next time Jeongguk sees him, it’s after he musters the courage to message Jimin first. Jimin is usually the one who seeks out Jeongguk’s company, coupled with the fact that Jeongguk is still sort of afraid Jimin will turn him down. Although this time, Jeongguk needn’t worry, as Jimin replies minutes later to say he’ll be over after nine once he’s finished working out.
Jeongguk spends the next several hours waiting in limbo for Jimin to arrive - too eager to do much but wait, as this is the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other since they started sleeping together all those months ago. He takes a long shower and puts on a movie to pass the time, but he’s mostly sat anxiously waiting, his heart beating fast in his chest at every little noise from the hallway outside his front door.
It feels different this time, and Jeongguk isn’t really sure why; why he’s feeling so anxious, why he can’t sit still, whilst also being too stuck in ‘waiting mode’ to do anything else. Maybe, he thinks, it’s because of how long it’s been, nearly two weeks, since they’ve been together, and Jeongguk is getting first-date jitters, despite it most certainly not being their first date. He wonders what Jimin has been up to, but knows if he asks, he’ll only be met with a brief, vague answer before Jimin is lying on his bed naked, tempting him not to ask any more questions.
Jeongguk jumps when he hears the doorbell ring just after nine-thirty, startled out of his daydreaming while trying to focus on Spider-Man playing on his TV.
The first thing he notices is that Jimin dyed his hair from the natural black he had been sporting for the last few months, to a soft, deep brown, and Jeongguk is surprised how Jimin can look even more gorgeous than before.
“Your hair. I like it,” Jeongguk manages, before Jimin surges towards him and crowds him against the door, lips attacking his neck as Jeongguk rolls his head to the side instinctively. His hands fly out to Jimin’s waist to steady them as they tumble slightly as the door swings open further.
“Hyung-“ Jeongguk gasps out, as Jimin’s teeth nibble at the skin just below his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
He’s overwhelmed; they don’t usually do this.
The feeling of Jimin’s sinfully plump and soft lips against his skin is enough to light it on fire, so he attempts to quell his surprise in order to keep Jimin attached to his neck. Jeongguk pulls Jimin closer by his hips, their groins pressed together, and he can feel how hard Jimin is already through his jeans.
He goes a little crazy at the idea that Jimin was so worked up on his way over that he couldn’t wait a second before he got his hands on Jeongguk.
Jimin pulls a moan out of Jeongguk’s throat as he slots his thigh between Jeongguk’s legs so he can grind his length against the hard muscle, and Jeongguk responds by shifting his hands to Jimin’s ass to hike him up a little higher.
The passion that charges between the pair is a foreign feeling to Jeongguk, who feels like his feet might soon lift off the ground as he floats away, as one of Jimin’s hands creeps up into his hair, whilst the other wraps loosely around his throat. Jeongguk thinks he might pass out, and if this is the way he’s going to go with Jimin riding his thigh, his lips sucking bruises into his neck, and his hands simultaneously tugging at his hair and applying pressure to his throat, then it wouldn’t be so bad. (He always knew he had a thing for breathplay, but was never on the receiving end, and God, did it make the flames of pleasure lick through his body.)
When Jimin detaches from his neck, spit connecting them still, his eyes are heavily lidded with lust, and it doesn’t take more than a moment before he’s tugging on Jeongguk’s hand towards the bedroom. The younger barely has a chance to kick the front door closed as he trails after Jimin, a little dazed. Jimin is yet to speak, and Jeongguk is too overwhelmed to do anything but watch as Jimin undresses, who looks like he might eat Jeongguk alive.
Jimin falls back against the bed, and this, Jeongguk knows. He’s able to crawl on top of Jimin, like it’s muscle memory, kissing his chest and around his nipples whilst Jimin gasps out under him.
“I missed you, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers against his skin, like a secret between the two of them. But it seems it wasn’t loud enough as there’s no response other than Jimin threading his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair and guiding him downwards.
The moans start to tumble out of Jimin’s mouth as soon as Jeongguk’s lips wrap around his pink, twitching cock, and that persistent little glowing orb burns inside his chest. He circles his tongue around the sensitive head, sucking lightly before taking more of the length into his throat, tracing the frenulum with his tongue, which elicits a shudder from Jimin, who grips harder onto Jeongguk’s hair. The burn on his scalp is addictive, and his cock twitches, interested, between his legs.
It’s not often he has the pleasure of taking Jimin into his mouth, since Jimin always wants to get Jeongguk inside of him as quickly as possible, so he takes his time revelling in the feeling of the heavy weight and the saltiness of his cock on his tongue. Jimin twitches beneath Jeongguk’s hands that pin him to the bed, thrusting slightly into the younger’s mouth, who relaxes his throat and allows him to take him further.
“Fuck,” Jimin speaks for the first time that night, as Jeongguk teases at his hole with the tip of his finger, whilst hollowing his cheeks and sucking. “I’m gonna come. Fuck, I’m so close.” Jeongguk takes the encouragement to keep the pressure around his cock, whilst bobbing his head, pressing his nose to the short hairs on Jimin’s pubic bone, drawing more and more moans out of Jimin, who thrashes against the bed.
It only takes Jeongguk’s finger slipping into his hole and his tongue digging into the slit of his cock before he’s clamping his thighs around Jeongguk’s head and coming, painting the inside of Jeongguk’s mouth white as his fingers ball into his fist where they’re curled in Jeongguk’s hair.
Jeongguk swallows what he can and collects the rest on his fingers, which he pushes into Jimin’s mouth, who is pliant in orgasmic bliss.
“Was that good? Haven’t given you head in a long time,” Jeongguk asks, suddenly shy despite their nakedness and the taste of Jimin’s cum in his mouth. Jimin bites his lip and nods, hands wandering over Jeongguk’s pecs before twisting his nipples. Jeongguk gasps and twitches from the sensitivity but basks in the pleasure all the same. “You still want me to fuck you?” Jeongguk is still hard, his cock almost purple and leaking onto the bed where he’s kneeling between Jimin’s legs.
“Yeah, just give me a second,” Jimin replies, tracing the muscles of Jeongguk’s abdomen lazily with his finger. Jeongguk rolls them onto their sides, so they’re face to face, before speaking again.
“How have you been? It’s been a while.” He’s nervous, and he only hopes Jimin can’t tell, though he’s almost sure he can.
“Busy with work and stuff,” Jimin says, rather blasé, working his hand around his cock to harden it again.
“Too busy to see me?” Jeongguk jests, hoping not to sound as insecure as he feels.
“Yeah, a little. I’m here now, though.” Jimin’s reply stings a little, but he’s climbing into Jeongguk’s lap before he can think about it anymore. “Fuck me until I’m hard. Then, fuck me until I come again.” Jimin slots their cocks next to each other, and the sight of Jimin’s smaller, soft cock next to Jeongguk’s makes him shudder.
“I can do that,” Jeongguk affirms, grasping their cocks together in one hand. He thinks the image will be painted in his mind forever, just how big he is next to Jimin, and he didn’t think it was something he had really noticed or cared for before, but maybe that was simply because he hadn’t had the time to appreciate it.
Jimin rummages through the bedside table where he knows Jeongguk keeps the lube and condoms, slicking up two of his fingers before reaching behind himself, pushing them into his hole that eagerly opens up. Jeongguk slides his own larger finger in beside him as he watches Jimin writhe and gasp as he stretches out, his limp cock twitching occasionally, as if reviving itself.
They don’t speak as Jimin rises on his knees and rolls the condom down Jeongguk’s length before sinking down on it entirely, and Jeongguk yelps out in pleasure. His fingers find their way to Jimin’s nipples, eager to work him back to hardness so he can make him come again - a rarity that Jeongguk finds himself smiling at.
The brown-haired wastes no time before he’s lifting himself up and dropping down on Jeongguk’s cock, and Jeongguk has to grip onto Jimin’s hip in order not to fuck back up into the tight heat before Jimin is fully stretched, though that doesn’t seem to be at the forefront of Jimin’s mind.
“So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. Sucking me in so well,” Jeongguk groans, squeezing Jimin’s nipple between his fingers.
This time, Jimin doesn’t correct him on the endearment, which is among the other unusual things that have happened, but Jeongguk chooses not to dwell on the fact and instead plants his feet onto the bed and drives his cock deeper into Jimin.
To his delight, Jimin’s cock begins to chub up again, so he takes it in his palm, as Jimin falls forward to brace his hands on Jeongguk’s chest. In this position, Jeongguk knows his cock is so deep inside Jimin that the pressure on his prostate must be almost blinding, if Jimin’s expletives are anything to go by.
Jimin works his hips down into Jeongguk’s upwards thrusts, jostling in the younger’s lap, his eyes screwed shut as Jeongguk works his cock in his hand. Jeongguk wishes he could see the look in Jimin’s eyes as he falls apart, but they remain closed even as his thighs begin to shudder against Jeongguk’s, who takes it as a sign to grasp his hips with both hands and fuck wildly into his hole.
“Fuck, Jimin. I won’t last much longer,” Jeongguk gasps, slowly losing himself to the pleasure. “No one could make me feel like you do. You feel amazing.” Jimin’s hand finds his own cock, and he starts pumping in time with Jeongguk, sweat beading on his temple that Jeongguk wishes he could lick up and kiss into Jimin’s mouth.
Jeongguk continues to thrust into Jimin’s heat, incessantly applying pressure to Jimin’s prostate that has the older leaking onto Jeongguk’s stomach, a collection of moans tumbling from both their mouths as the pleasure continues to build and build and build.
His orgasm blinds him as he pulls Jimin’s hips down onto his own, shouting out as he releases into the condom, teeth drawing blood from his lip where they’re burrowed to stifle the growl that threatens to escape his throat and the flames licking at his spine become an entire blaze.
It only takes Jimin a few seconds more before he’s coming onto Jeongguk’s chest, fully seated with Jeongguk’s cock nestled right against his prostate. The sight of Jimin on top of him, head flung back in ecstasy, is enough to prolong Jeongguk’s orgasm, skin tingling with pleasure.
Their heavy breathing is all that follows for the moments after they come down from their high, where Jeongguk is sort of floating halfway to Heaven.
Jimin wipes his hand on the sheets next to them as he lifts off Jeongguk’s cock, wincing in oversensitivity, and all Jeongguk wants to do is cradle Jimin in his arms and kiss him until their lips are chapped and they fall asleep.
But they don’t do that.
Jeongguk knows that some lines may never be crossed. Still, he smiles to himself, as Jimin rolls off him, for making Jimin come twice and for the blooming bruises he’s sure are adorning his neck, though he itches to have left some on Jimin’s.
They lie next to each other, catching their breath before Jimin stands on wobbly legs to redress. It’s as he’s pulling his t-shirt over his head that he breaks the silence.
“You should get tested.”
Four words make Jeongguk come crashing down from his pleasure, no longer floaty and sated. Something white hot washes over him so quickly he goes dizzy as he processes Jimin’s words, and he almost can’t believe it. He can’t feel his legs or his arms, so he just stares at the white paint of his ceiling, paralysed.
“Did you hear me? I said you should get tested.” Jimin’s voice sounds as if he’s underwater, far away from where Jeongguk is tethered to a realm he’s not sure is Earth, where his heartbeat is deafening and his chest is so tight he might suffocate.
It takes Jimin nudging his arm for Jeongguk to return to reality, which is almost worse than where he was before.
“Okay,” he croaks out, feeling as if he might choke on his tongue.
“Okay, good.” Jimin hesitates briefly before saying, “I’ll get going, then.”
Jeongguk can’t manage to speak anymore, nor can he sit up, so he only knows Jimin has gone by the sound of his front door shutting, barely audible over the rushing blood in his ears.
He thinks he might be sick, but he is also pinned to the bed by the weight of this revelation, his mind both devoid of thought and running a million miles per hour around and around in circles, like he’s stuck on a faulty Mad Tea Party ride, and his brain is being slammed continuously against his skull.
You should get tested. It could only mean one thing, yet Jeongguk refuses to say it aloud in his head for fear that he might be paralysed forever.
You should get tested.
You should get tested.
You should get tested.
It repeats in Jeongguk’s mind like a broken record, scratched and grating.
It’s only from pure exhaustion that Jeongguk falls asleep, Jimin’s cum drying on his chest.
He wakes a few hours later, still lying as he was, but with the sheets pulled up to his chin. It’s pitch-black outside, close to one in the morning, and Jeongguk can finally feel his limbs again.
Disoriented, he trips over to the bathroom, relieving himself before he notices the dried cum in the mirror.
Everything comes back to him all at once: the way Jimin pressed him against the door, the way his hands felt in his hair as he took him down his throat, the way he had so nonchalantly spoken those four fucking words that had Jeongguk strapped down to the mattress.
Jeongguk braces himself against the sink, breathing heavily. “What the fuck,” he whispers into the night. He thinks practically at first, thinking of the nearest clinic to get a free test, before he clutches at his stomach as a sob wrenches itself from deep within.
Being asked to get tested could only mean Jimin had been with other people, and Jeongguk certainly had not done the same. He had never once entertained the idea of seeing other people, happy with his sex life with Jimin, though he’s sure his feelings for him also factored into his decision. Jeongguk wracks his brain, unable to stop the cacophony of thoughts, picking apart their time together, evaluating everything.
They had seen each other twice a week since they first got together - had Jimin been sleeping with other people that whole time? They used protection each time, more out of a habit than anything else, at least on Jeongguk’s part, but maybe it was more calculated than he had once thought. The last time they saw each other, when Jimin had said he was seeing a friend, had that been code for sleeping with someone? Had he gone to someone else after coming all over Jeongguk’s hand? Does he let other people call him sweetheart? He said he had been too busy to see Jeongguk the last two weeks, yet he had time to see someone else, without protection, his mind helpfully adds. Is that why he was so different this time? Had he felt guilty? Was he buttering Jeongguk up to drop the bomb on him?
Jeongguk curls in on himself on the cold, tiled floor of his bathroom, naked and acutely aware of how vulnerable he feels.
It’s too much. It’s all too much, yet no tears spill from his eyes, no matter how cathartic it would be to cry.
He’s the sort of numb that feels like everything at the same time, like he might burst open and be unable to piece himself back together again.
It feels like betrayal to have his idea of whatever their relationship was to be shattered minutes after making Jimin come twice, whilst he was basking in that fact. He had been high on the change in their dynamic, of the feeling of Jimin sucking bruises into his neck, the intimacy of it all.
Now, he feels sick at the thought of looking at himself in the mirror.
Exclusive: That’s what Jeongguk thought they were. He was never deluded enough to think they were dating, but Jeongguk feels stupid for thinking Jimin was ever loyal to him, even after six months. He starts beating himself up for missing the signs, or maybe rather, ignoring them to feed the desperate fantasy of them together.
Pathetic, Jeongguk snarls to himself, the numbness replaced by self-loathing. He picks himself off the floor, wipes his chest of Jimin’s cum with as much indifference as he can muster, before throwing himself onto his bed. He wants to scream for getting himself into this mess, for falling for someone who clearly wanted to see other people.
But how could he not? When Jimin is so beautiful and charming, and simply irresistible.
Jeongguk’s phone buzzes with a message from Taehyung, which makes Jeongguk’s stomach drop. He can’t tell Taehyung - he’s far too embarrassed, and his stupid pride won’t reconcile with the fact that Taehyung was right all along. So, he ignores the message and wills himself to fall asleep.
At least unconscious, he won’t be able to dissect the night he spent with Jimin and how it all went terribly wrong.
—————————⛆—————————
Jeongguk has banned himself from looking at his phone, pining for Jimin, since that night. He changes Jimin’s contact name and even debates for some time, deleting it altogether. The logical part of Jeongguk is hurt and knows distance will serve him well, though it may sting to suddenly not see Jimin again, he knows it’s for the best.
Which is why he is currently sitting on his couch pulling out his hair and sick with anxiety as he watches his reply to ‘DO NOT ANSWER’ go through, agreeing for him to come over.
Jeongguk thinks he might be sick in the head if all the warning signs and red flags are glaring at him from all angles, yet he still chooses the option that will hurt him the most. But it seems the sliver of good Jimin makes him feel outweighs the negatives of feeling like he’ll end up dying alone, still hung up on Jimin.
It’s borderline masochism, but not the good kind.
It’s been just over a week since Jimin last came over; since he had unofficially confessed he was sleeping with other people, since Jeongguk had to pee in a cup whilst holding back his tears. He thinks he’s feeling better about it all, putting up a boundary in his mind that yes, he can have casual, meaningless sex with Jimin, and it would all be okay.
But really, all he has done is push down the hurt he truly feels into that void in his abdomen and tries to forget about it.
Sex with Jimin feels great, and that’s all he needs to focus on.
So, when Jimin arrives, cheeks dusted pink from the bitter winter wind, Jeongguk shoves down the affection that dares to channel through him and simply drags Jimin into his apartment, throwing him unceremoniously onto the bed. Jeongguk notices the brief look of surprise on Jimin’s face as he bounces slightly on the mattress, before it’s replaced with a hazy gaze of lust, as he licks his lips and starts pulling off his clothes. Jimin is fiddling with the zipper of his jeans when Jeongguk’s hand encase his own and does it for him, yanking them off his legs and flinging them somewhere in his room.
“Someone’s eager,” Jimin teases, palming himself through the white cotton of his boxers as Jeongguk undresses too. Jeongguk doesn’t reply. There is no decorum or slowness to Jeongguk’s actions, as he attempts to be as detached as possible, flipping Jimin over and dragging Jimin onto his knees, who moans at the display of strength and giggles, “I like this side of you.”
The comment makes Jeongguk’s heart swoop, his knees buckling where he’s knelt behind him. It’s as close as he’s ever going to get to Jimin returning his feelings, and Jeongguk fails to hide the blush adorning his face.
“Aw, you’re all red. I didn’t mean it like that. Did I make you shy, baby?” Jimin teases, peering over his shoulder, a wicked smirk gracing his lips, his cheeks still rosy from the cold, and maybe arousal now, too.
Jeongguk crashes back down to Earth.
Of course, Jimin didn’t mean it. He never means anything he says, and Jeongguk is a fool to believe him.
He clears his throat and shoves down his hurt.
Jeongguk grips the nape of Jimin’s neck with his hand and presses his face into the mattress firmly, before leaning over and whispering in his ear, an undertone of desperation disguised as venom in his voice as he says, “Behave. Or I won’t fuck you at all. Leave you here begging for me.” A shiver runs down his spine when Jimin’s moan rumbles the sheets of his bed, and he pushes his ass back into Jeongguk’s crotch, grinding down on the evident bulge in his boxers.
“I’d never beg you,” Jimin bites back, “You want me more than I want you.”
It’s the first time it’s been said aloud, and whilst he knows it’s true, the fact it’s been spoken into existence catches Jeongguk by surprise, his grip loosening slightly on Jimin’s neck as the anxiety bubbles in his stomach. He doesn’t want it to be true; he wants to live in the fantasy that Jimin wants him as much as Jeongguk does. But now that he knows Jimin is seeing other people, he’s faced with the harsh reality of what he spent the last week trying to get over.
Before Jeongguk has time to think about it more, Jimin reaches to the waistband of his boxers and pulls them over his ass as best as he can from where he’s pinned down, exposing his hole to Jeongguk, who leans back to hook his own boxers underneath his balls. Jeongguk is fearful he’ll blurt out any more embarrassing things, so he slicks up two fingers and quickly opens Jimin up, eyes locked onto Jimin’s hole as he stretches him out, though he seems not to need it.
Jeongguk chooses not to dwell.
He rolls the condom onto his cock and pushes into Jimin, allowing a brief moment for Jimin to catch his breath before pulling back out and setting a rhythm.
If Jimin notices Jeongguk’s quietness, he doesn’t bother to comment.
Jimin also doesn’t comment when Jeongguk abruptly pulls out and finishes onto his own stomach, whilst Jimin spills over his hand onto the sheets below, reaching their peaks quickly with practised ease.
Jeongguk rushes to pick out fresh clothes and head to the bathroom, choosing not to linger for Jimin’s brief post-orgasmic affection, like he usually does. It’s about self-preservation now.
“You can head out whenever,” Jeongguk says with as much bravado as he can manage, his knees trembling, turning the corner to the bathroom and letting go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
If Jimin notices how much Jeongguk is scrambling to keep himself together, he doesn’t comment on that either.
—————————⛆—————————
Taehyung comes over two days later, as Jeongguk is finishing up his workday in the spare room he uses as an office. When Jeongguk logs off and can finally enjoy his Friday night after several meetings that definitely could’ve just been an email, he finds his best friend has already made himself at home, wearing one of Jeongguk’s hoodies and sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
“Fucking finally. I thought you finished at five. I’ve been waiting to have a beer for like forever,” Taehyung groans dramatically, jumping up from his position on the couch and rushing to the fridge where he knows there’s always a stash of beers chilling.
“I got caught in a meeting with my manager and a new person I’m supposed to be training. Was so fucking pointless - they don’t even start until next month,” Jeongguk replies, throwing himself over the back of the couch before accepting the chilly bottle of beer from Taehyung.
“They’re letting you train someone?” The taller teases, switching on Jeongguk’s console and grabbing both controllers.
“I know. Whose stupid idea was that?”
“You wanna order some food now or later? I’m really craving a burger. Or sushi. Or both, actually,” Taehyung contemplates as Jeongguk loads up the multiplayer zombie game that was just released.
“Let’s do both, I’m starving.”
They fall into easy company, ordering their food and starting their game, which has them wielding modified axes and maces to kill the mass of zombies that surround them.
Jeongguk doesn’t realise how long has passed before the doorbell goes, and he springs up, mouth salivating at all the food that awaits behind the door.
Jeongguk unlocks and pulls open the door, saying, “Tae-hyung, can you grab me another beer, please? And grab some chopsticks, I hate the ones-“ He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence before he realises it’s not the delivery driver with their food, not unless his delivery driver is drop-dead gorgeous and the man of all his desires.
“Oh, Jimin-hyung, hi. What are you doing here?” Jimin’s face looks slightly startled, and his cheeks are flushed. Is he shy? Jimin has never turned up unannounced before, and a part of Jeongguk loathes the fact that Taehyung and a giant horde of zombies are waiting for him.
“Hey, I thought I’d drop by. See if you were free,” Jimin replies sheepishly, and he almost looks nervous if Jeongguk didn’t know any better.
“Ah, sorry, hyung. You should’ve messaged. Tae-hyung and I-“ Jeongguk starts before Taehyung creeps up behind him and hooks his chin over his shoulder.
“You’re not the sushi we ordered,” Taehyung drawls, and Jeongguk knows for a fact he recognises Jimin from the pictures Jeongguk showed him. He tries not to elbow him in the stomach.
“No, I’m not. Sorry for disturbing you. Have a good night.” Jimin makes to leave before Jeongguk shrugs Taehyung off his shoulder and circles Jimin’s slim wrist with his hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“I’m free tomorrow. You know… if you wanna come over then.” Jeongguk can feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into the back of his head.
“Uh-“ Jeongguk watches as Jimin’s eyes flit between him and Taehyung, the rosiness of his cheeks deepening ever so slightly, unrecognisable to someone who has not spent the same amount of time as Jeongguk gazing at his face. “Sure, yeah,” Jimin replies, clearing his throat and ducking his head, as if embarrassed; Jeongguk nearly coos.
“Okay, great. I’ll see you then, sweetheart.” Jimin doesn’t even correct him this time; he just smiles slightly and walks away, leaving Jeongguk’s heart to bang against his ribs and his lips to twitch into a smug smirk.
“You’re unbelievable,” Taehyung comments from behind him, and Jeongguk sort of forgot he was even there to begin with. They haven’t spoken about Jimin since their argument, but if the hint of mirth Jeongguk detects in his voice is anything to go by, they might be able to avoid another.
“But you can see part of why I still want to see him, right?” Jeongguk jokes, keeping it light, whilst returning back into his apartment and resuming their game.
“No one said he wasn’t good-looking. Makes it more annoying that he’s such a dick.” Jeongguk shoves Taehyung’s shoulder lightly as he rolls his eyes, making him spill his beer down his chin.
“He seemed different today. Shy even. It was pretty cute.”
“I hope it was because I intimidated him, so he knows he can’t fuck with you.” Taehyung puffs up his chest comically and flexes his arms hidden beneath Jeongguk’s hoodie.
“No one has ever been intimidated by you, hyung,” Jeongguk ridicules, which earns him a kick to the stomach.
“I’m disappointed he wasn’t the sushi. All this zombie killing has worked up an appetite.” But Jeongguk isn’t really paying attention to what his best friend is yapping about; he’s more focused on the rosiness of Jimin’s cheeks and how he can’t wait to tease him about it tomorrow.
—————————⛆—————————
The next day, Jimin messages Jeongguk to say he’s on his way over at eight, just as Jeongguk is clearing away the bossam he had for dinner. He cleans the dishes quickly and heads to the bathroom to wash up, feeling a little giddy, his stomach filled with butterflies.
Jimin showed up, unannounced and shy; Jeongguk hopes that it could be the beginning of Jimin softening towards him (only in his heart, not the other important thing).
Jimin is bundled up when Jeongguk opens the door to greet him, his scarf covering his mouth, and Jeongguk thinks he might be the cutest person on the planet.
“Hey,” the smaller man greets, shucking off and hanging up his coat and scarf, adjusting to the warmth of Jeongguk’s apartment.
“Hi. How are you?” Jeongguk asks as he shuts out the winter air.
“Chilly, it’s been sleeting all day. I wasn’t able to get groceries this morning.” Of course, Jeongguk knew Jimin was human and, you know, had a life outside of sleeping with Jeongguk, but hearing him discuss mundane things like groceries with Jeongguk makes him feel warm inside, and not just from his hoodie he’s wearing or the heating.
“You look cold; your cheeks are nearly as red as they were yesterday,” Jeongguk pokes.
“Shut up,” Jimin scolds lightly, and it’s refreshing - Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate to smile. “I didn’t know you had company.” He’s shy again, and Jeongguk can’t seem to get enough of it.
“Just my friend, Taehyung. We were playing this new game and waiting for the food we ordered when you knocked.” Jeongguk is surprised that they’ve lasted so long conversing without being naked, and he hopes he’s not taking it for granted.
“Ah, friend,” Jimin whispers under his breath, but Jeongguk catches it and can’t help the big, cheesy grin that reaches his eyes. He notices Jimin’s eyes wander briefly over his hoodie and realises it’s the one Taehyung wore yesterday after helping himself to Jeongguk’s closet (as best friends do). Jimin seems to realise too, which pleases Jeongguk greatly.
“Were you jealous, hyung?” Jeongguk teases, and he’s sure he won’t ever forget this day. Jimin feels enough for him to be jealous. Of Taehyung. Which is ridiculous, but is currently making his heart race. This is a big step for them, maybe allowing Jeongguk to work up the courage to say he wants to exclusively be with Jimin, since that would appease them both right now.
The butterflies in his stomach flutter madly.
“No,” Jimin replies a little too quickly; Jeongguk’s smile grows. “You can fuck whoever you want. You should see other people.”
Jeongguk’s smile falls.
Somehow, Jimin’s behaviour causes him whiplash again. Jeongguk thinks it might be a sick joke, at this point, like he might be in his own Truman Show, where some evil producer is adamant on creating as much anguish in Jeongguk’s life as possible.
He’s numb again, but this time, truly numb, like the little version of Jeongguk sat behind his eyes has gone to sleep, unresponsive. The beat that follows might be the longest of Jeongguk’s twenty-four years of life, where the butterflies have died, and so have any words on Jeongguk’s tongue.
So, he nods curtly before Jimin pulls Jeongguk’s hoodie over his head and guides him into his bedroom, like he belongs there. Jeongguk can’t help but think that he does.
In a sad realisation, Jeongguk knows he’s capable of bottling up his feelings to focus on making Jimin feel good, but he feels a little drained, like every time he meets Jimin, they take one step forward and one thousand steps back.
Once again, he shoves his feelings aside to kiss and bite the skin of Jimin’s ass as he’s arched on his knees on Jeongguk’s bed, like so many times before, softly caressing every inch of Jimin that he can touch before pressing forwards and using all of his willpower to focus on the feeling of Jimin’s walls around his fingers and cock and not on his bleeding heart.
This time, Jeongguk messages Taehyung after Jimin leaves, who calls him instantly after the first message has been read, and they spend an hour on the phone talking about nonsense to try and distract Jeongguk from the hollowness in his chest. He’s eternally grateful, especially knowing how Taehyung feels about Jimin, who always offers him a shoulder to cry on, regardless.
Jeongguk tries not to analyse Jimin’s behaviour, but it’s hard not to be confused by his seemingly shy persona, which was immediately shut down and replaced with the hard-natured and stoic Jimin he is so used to. He even longs for Jimin’s teasing, happier to take the slight humiliation than the one-word answers as of late.
What Jeongguk once thought could be the start of Jimin’s icy exterior slowly melting away might actually be the downfall of it all.
—————————⛆—————————
It never goes like this either.
Jimin comes over later in the week - a Friday, which is as far as the normalcy of their hook-up goes.
Jeongguk can taste the alcohol in Jimin’s mouth as he stumbles through the door and wraps his arms around Jeongguk’s neck, kissing and biting at his lips before he even has a chance to say ‘hello’. Jeongguk can count the number of times they’ve kissed on just two hands, and they’ve never met up whilst drunk; but it seems that Jimin cares for neither fact, as he doesn’t even come up for breath before he’s moaning into Jeongguk’s mouth as he starts stripping down naked.
“Hyung- Hyung, wait,” Jeongguk rushes to say as Jimin clumsily yanks off his t-shirt and giggles to himself. “Are you drunk?”
“‘m not drunk,” Jimin slurs, but the redness of his cheeks and neck is an indicator enough, if the stumbling wasn’t already a big giveaway.
“I’m not gonna fuck you if you’re drunk,” Jeongguk says sternly, his hands steadying Jimin’s hips, his cold fingers meeting the warmth of Jimin’s bare skin; the smaller is flushed all the way down to his nipples.
“‘m not drunk. You’re drunk.” And that’s apparently the funniest thing in the world because Jimin bursts into uncontrollable laughter. Jeongguk’s lips twitch into a smile, but he’s mostly concerned.
“You’re right, hyung. I’m drunk, too,” Jeongguk lies, and watches Jimin’s eyes light up, who hooks his arms around Jeongguk again and starts giggling into his neck.
“Mmm, want you to fuck me, baby,” Jimin whispers into Jeongguk’s skin, planting sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. Jeongguk has to close his eyes at the feeling, resisting the temptation to pull Jimin’s body close to his and have his way with him.
“I won’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” Jeongguk’s hands come to cup Jimin’s cheeks, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Jimin, clearly unhappy with Jeongguk’s refusal, wriggles out of his arms, a deep frown etched on his forehead. “Why not?” he spits, shoving at Jeongguk’s chest.
“Because you’re drunk. You can’t tell me you actually want this.”
“‘m not fucking drunk,” Jimin argues, tripping over his feet to pick up his shirt. Jeongguk pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and tries not to hover, allowing Jimin his own space.
Jeongguk watches as Jimin stumbles towards his bedroom, but as he goes to follow, Jimin puts a hand on his chest and stops him in his tracks.
“If you won’t fuck me, then I’ll jus’ fuck myself.” Jeongguk’s eyes widen at Jimin’s wicked smirk, and he has to gulp heavily in restraint. Jimin pulls the rest of his clothes off and falls onto the bed, reaching blindly into Jeongguk’s bedside drawer for the lube he knows is there. Jeongguk turns away from the door, clearing his throat and adjusting himself in his pyjama pants.
“You’re not gonna watch me?” Jeongguk hears Jimin call from the bed, and he knows Jimin’s button lip is stuck out in a pout just by his voice; he’s not sure he’s ever heard Jimin sound both so dejected and cute at the same time.
“No, hyung. You… you just make yourself feel good, okay? I’ll be out here.” Jeongguk goes back to where he was sitting playing on his console before Jimin showed up, but he’s too tense and worked up to think about resuming his game. Thankfully, there’s no Taehyung on the other end.
“Fine,” Jimin huffs, “You-You can jus’ listen to me, then. Ah-“ Jeongguk’s lip bites into his teeth as he realises Jimin really is about to get himself off on Jeongguk’s bed, whilst he’s in the other room with a raging hard-on. “Jeonggukie-“ Jimin calls from the bedroom, followed by a series of moans that Jeongguk could only imagine was the product of Jimin fucking into himself with his fingers.
“Jeonggukie, please.” Jimin has never begged for anything, and Jeongguk feels a little light-headed with how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. His hands curl into his pyjama pants, willing himself to think of gross, depressing things to lower his arousal, which proves to be difficult as the time goes by, when Jimin’s moans and begs come in quick succession, and Jeongguk is sure he can make out the sound of his bed knocking against the wall.
It’s almost to a point when Jeongguk thinks he might actually come in his pants just from hearing Jimin fuck himself and beg for Jeongguk to touch him, when Jimin lets out a particularly whiny moan that Jeongguk makes out to be his name, followed by silence. Jeongguk waits for Jimin to call out for him, but after a few minutes, he hears nothing, so he ventures into his bedroom to check on Jimin.
There, lying naked atop the white sheets, is Jimin - fast asleep.
Fondness washes over Jeongguk as he sees him sleeping, exhausted, it seems, but peaceful all the same. As he nears, he notices streaks of pearly white cum on Jimin’s tummy, which Jeongguk cleans off with a wet towel he quickly grabs from the bathroom, before tucking Jimin under the covers and leaving a bottle of water and pain medication on the bedside table.
Jeongguk is yet to tame his rapidly beating heart as he shuts the door to his room and makes a bed with a pillow and blanket on the couch, the music of his game cutting through the silence of his apartment.
He doesn’t know what to make of this turn of events - his Friday evening locked in playing a new single-player game, hijacked by a very drunk Jimin at his front door. His lips tingle at the memory of Jimin’s soft, plush ones pressing against him, the feeling of his tongue on his neck, and the way he begged for Jeongguk, whiny, like he’s never been before.
Jeongguk decides it’s best for them to both sleep on it; they can talk again in the morning, when Jimin is coherent enough to put a full sentence together and Jeongguk’s cock is finally soft again, but he’s sure his dreams will be clouded with the thoughts of kissing Jimin until all he’s left to do is beg Jeongguk, sounding just as beautiful and desperate.
Jeongguk wakes earlier than usual for a Saturday morning, but it’s unlikely he really slept at all. He hadn’t heard any movement from his bedroom since last night, so he hopes Jimin is soundly asleep, tucked in just like Jeongguk left him.
He’s folding over eggs to make an omelette when the door to his bedroom opens, and Jimin stops abruptly in the threshold.
“Fuck, you’re already awake,” Jimin curses, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.
“Uh, yeah,” Jeongguk says shyly. It doesn’t feel great to know Jimin was planning on sneaking out, like an awkward one-night stand - their first night together hadn’t even ended like that. “I’m making some eggs, if you want some breakfast.” He turns his attention back to the stove, instead of Jimin’s adorable half-asleep face, which he hasn’t ever had the pleasure of seeing until now.
“I should go, but thanks,” Jimin replies sheepishly, and he’s yet to meet Jeongguk’s eyes.
“Jimin-“ Jeongguk starts, turning off the gas on the stove.
“Jeongguk, please don’t,” Jimin interrupts, shoving his feet into his boots that Jeongguk placed neatly on the shoe rack.
“I think we should talk.” Jeongguk rubs his hand nervously on his pyjama pants, the anxiety bubbling away in his belly.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Hyung, please.”
“No, Jeongguk. I was drunk, and I’m sorry I came here. That’s all.” Jimin sounds irritated, which wounds Jeongguk further, as if being here is some inconvenience to him.
“Will you actually look at me?” Jeongguk says, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels.
“No,” Jimin says quickly, then after a moment of hesitation, “I’ll see you later.” With that, Jimin dashes out of Jeongguk’s apartment, the door shutting before Jeongguk even has a chance to follow. Jeongguk is left standing, staring at his front door where Jimin was moments ago.
It seems that each time he sees Jimin recently, he’s left with a bad taste in his mouth from the anxiety that lurches from deep below. If Jeongguk was already confused by Jimin’s arrival last night, he’s even more confused now, with how Jimin looked, something close to guilty, as he crept out of Jeongguk’s bedroom. He’s never spent the night at Jeongguk’s after they’ve been together, and on the off occasion Jeongguk has been to Jimin’s apartment, Jimin has always ushered him out, even if Jeongguk had wanted to stay.
Everything is all just so fucking weird, and Jeongguk can barely wrap his head around Jimin’s strange behaviour recently. Jeongguk attributes it to ‘hangxiety’ and desperately hopes everything will just return back to normal.
—————————⛆—————————
It sometimes goes like this.
Jeongguk’s wishful thinking pays off. Jimin’s behaviour returns relatively back to the way it was: he comes over a few days after the ‘incident’ (as Taehyung calls it), but they don’t really discuss what happened between them - mainly because Jimin’s mouth is mostly occupied with Jeongguk’s cock or fingers stuffed in his mouth. Jeongguk decides not to push it, especially since he has Jimin under him and everything feels good again.
Jeongguk rocks into Jimin’s heat, his hand pressed to the mattress near Jimin’s head, his other hand pulling Jimin’s hips back against his own. Jimin rhythmically clenches and unclenches as Jeongguk’s thrusts waver, and his teeth catch on his lip as he stifles a groan, the space behind his pelvis burning pleasantly with his building orgasm.
“Fuck, hyung. You’re squeezing my cock so well,” Jeongguk curses, his palm connecting with the jiggling fat of Jimin’s ass, and Jimin’s moan nearly shakes the entire room, as he spills over his fist onto the sheets, collapsing onto his chest as Jeongguk fucks him into oversensitivity, his hair wet with sweat and clinging to his forehead.
Jeongguk follows shortly after, coming into the condom, whilst pressed deeply against Jimin’s abused prostate. He collapses on top of Jimin, kissing his nape and shallowly thrusting to finish off his orgasm.
“You’re so heavy,” Jimin groans beneath him, and Jeongguk rolls off him with a chuckle, his hand caressing Jimin’s side as he does so.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I think I saw God for a second.” Jeongguk pulls his cock out of Jimin’s hole, wincing slightly at the sensitivity.
“So dramatic. And don’t call me that,” Jimin grumbles, and it’s refreshing to hear Jimin’s usual teasing.
“Not my fault your ass is like a portal to Heaven.” Jeongguk watches as Jimin sits up and flicks him in the forehead, a hint of a smirk underneath the stoic mask.
“Didn’t take you as a religion man,” Jimin says as he redresses, and Jeongguk rests his arm behind his head as he watches, taking in the view.
“Only if Park Jimin is a religion. I’m a devout follower.” Jimin rolls his eyes, grabbing his bag from Jeongguk’s dresser before bidding him farewell.
For the first time in a long time, Jeongguk doesn’t feel like he might burst into tears when he hears the door shut and lock itself behind Jimin. They have yet to speak about Jimin’s drunken escapade, but Jeongguk decides that if Jimin is in his bed and teasing him again, then Jeongguk can put it behind him.
He smiles to himself as he disposes of the condom and washes up quickly in the bathroom, before tucking in to bed and falling quickly asleep - Jimin’s scent on his pillow lulling him to sleep.
—————————⛆—————————
It’s a Saturday, close to two in the morning, and Taehyung has not stopped talking about this cute guy, Hoseok, whom he met in the cafe at his workplace, for the last forty-five minutes.
Jeongguk, tipsy from the soju they’ve been drinking, sits completely engrossed in his best friend’s gushing, his cheeks warm to the touch from all the alcohol and endless laughter.
“He’s just so- he’s just so handsome, Gguk. Like-like imagine, right, imagine a Greek god… Dionysus or someone, just imagine, okay? And imagine they’re wearing the cutest wire glasses you’ve ever seen in your life, and they’ve got coffee foam around their mouth, and they have such a deep, sexy voice, and a massive dick-“ Taehyung blurts, scooting forward on his knees to hold Jeongguk’s face in his hands.
This is clearly serious business, but Jeongguk can’t help the laugh that barks out him.
“Don’t laugh!” Taehyung pouts, flicking Jeongguk’s forehead, which, of course, makes Jeongguk laugh harder. “I bet he has a big dick. Bet I’d need two hands just to hold it. Bet he’d be a switch, too-“ Taehyung rambles on and on, lying down on the floor. Jeongguk joins him, which results in Taehyung flinging a leg over Jeongguk’s waist and cuddling up to him, as he goes on and on, as if he were a toy robot that had been wound up to infinity.
“Are you listening to me?” Taehyung asks, shaking Jeongguk’s shoulder lightly.
No. Jeongguk is not listening - in fact, he might’ve accidentally fallen asleep.
“You dick!” Taehyung exclaims, Jeongguk laughs and pushes Taehyung off to pour them both another glass. He’s quickly forgiven as he passes Taehyung the shot glass, who lights up like a Christmas tree.
They’re pleasantly buzzed, enjoying the music softly playing in the background, their video game abandoned, takeout boxes discarded on the coffee table. Jeongguk goes to pour them both another glass, but when he leans over, he spots Taehyung passed out on the floor, mouth wide open.
Oh, if only the cute guy, Hoseok, could see Taehyung now.
Of course, Jeongguk reaches around to find his phone to take a nought-point-five picture of Taehyung (as is the natural course of things when one’s best friend is unsuspecting), but as he finally finds his phone, which had, somehow, ended up on the other side of the room, his eyes widen at his notifications.
jiminie-hyung 3h ago
can i come over?
jiminie-hyung 3h ago
im horny
jiminie-hyung 3h ago
?
Shit. Jeongguk tries blinking rapidly, as if that will take away the blur from his vision from the soju. He’s too drunk to feel his fingers and fails to type in his password six times, so his phone locks him out.
He fights the urge to throw it across the room.
He feels the guilt eating away at his insides as he thinks of the messages, despite the fact that his answer to Jimin would’ve been no, since Taehyung already earmarked his evening. He’s not sure he could even type out a coherent message to Jimin now anyway, and that’s enough for Jeongguk to curl up on the couch and fall instantly asleep, forgetting all about the messages and the stupid picture of Taehyung he was supposed to take.
When Jeongguk wakes up, he thinks it honestly might’ve been better if he hadn’t woken at all.
His head throbs with a hangover, his stomach is queasy, and his mouth feels like cotton. Taehyung is snoring on the floor, a blanket haphazardly drawn over him from where he must’ve reached out onto the couch in the night. Jeongguk is sure he can feel the alcohol oozing from his pores, which grosses him out to no end, so he jumps in the shower, whilst trying not to move too quickly in fear of actually throwing up.
Once showered and changed, he grabs his phone and leaves Taehyung to sleep away the hangover, whilst he ventures to the convenience store opposite his apartment for some much-needed hangover-curing drinks and items to make haejangguk - the ingredients of which he unfortunately, but also helpfully, knows off by heart. He’s glad to quickly return home, the sleety, slushy winter rain making his headache even worse.
The atmosphere is delicate in the apartment; Jeongguk creeps around so as not to make too much noise, for both his and Taehyung’s sake. The taller remains asleep on the floor until Jeongguk kicks him awake, a bowl of steaming hot soup, and several hangover drinks atop the coffee table, ready for them.
“Jesus fucking Christ. How much did we drink last night?” Taehyung groans, holding onto his stomach gingerly.
“I don’t remember. I do remember going out to buy more, though, at some point. I nearly broke my neck on the black ice outside,” Jeongguk replies, as they both dig into their soup, slowly slurping away as they nurse their sore heads.
“This is saving me. Thank you, haejangguk, thank you for saving me,” Taehyung sighs dramatically, cradling his bowl with affection.
“I’m the one who made it. You should be thanking me.”
“Thank you, Jeonggukie. Thank you for saving me.” Taehyung’s puppy eyes make Jeongguk roll his own, before he glances at his phone screen.
“Oh, fuck,” Jeongguk curses, neglecting his soup in favour of picking up his phone and unlocking it (first try this time), and quickly navigating to Jimin’s messages. “Jimin-hyung messaged me last night asking to come over, and I forgot to reply.”
“It’d better have been going to be a no.”
“Of course, it was going to be. I might be obsessed with his ass, but I’m also obsessed with you,” Jeongguk teases, and this time it’s Taehyung who rolls his eyes. Jeongguk types out a quick reply.
me
I’m sorry hyung, I was busy with Tae last night
me
Come over tonight?
It isn’t until Taehyung has long gone and Jeongguk is getting into bed for the night that he realises Jimin is yet to reply to his message. It’s well past midnight, and Jeongguk doesn’t figure Jimin would decide to come over this late, so he sets his phone down and tries to get some sleep.
Hungover-Jeongguk seemingly doesn’t have the capacity to wonder why Jimin hadn’t replied, which definitely saves him from a night of restless sleep.
Jeongguk doesn’t get his reply until the evening of the day after, on his way home from work, with his tie and collar of his shirt digging into his throat. It just reads, ‘i’m busy, sorry’ and nothing else, and try as he might not to let it bother him, there’s a slight inch under his skin at Jimin’s bluntness, especially since he was feeling good with the way things were going with him recently.
He brushes it off, though, and makes his way home in the bitter cold until his phone vibrates in his pocket.
jiminie-hyung
tomorrow?
Jeongguk can’t stop the small smile that slips onto his face, that inch under his skin melting away instantly. He quickly responds and tucks his phone away, careful not to slip on the ice as he heads up to his apartment. He figures that he may never truly be able to understand all of Jimin and why he’s one way with Jeongguk one minute, and another way the next, but if adjusting to that behaviour has Jimin still seeking him out, then Jeongguk will take it.
—————————⛆—————————
It inevitably goes like this.
Jimin tells him he’ll be over at ten, so Jeongguk plays some video games to pass the time. As usual, he’s excited to see Jimin, so when the doorbell goes, he nearly springs up out of his seat on the couch to answer it.
Jimin is buried beneath a woolly scarf, and Jeongguk can’t fight the urge to coo this time, which gets him a death stare from Jimin, but he laughs it off as he steps aside for Jimin to come in.
“Hey, I was worried you wouldn’t be safe getting here; it’s hailing badly today,” Jeongguk admits, shutting the door behind them.
“Ah, there was no need for you to worry. It was fine,” Jimin replies, turning to hang up his coat and unwinding his scarf from around his neck. Jeongguk goes to offer Jimin a cup of tea to warm him up, though he’s sure Jimin would refuse anyway, but the words die on his tongue.
Because he sees them.
Dark red blooms against porcelain skin. The angry outline of a mouth. Teeth. Skin tugged too hard, bruised too deep. There’s more than one — a row littered down the side of Jimin’s neck, like punctuation, screaming to Jeongguk that someone else had been here; someone else had put their mouth on Jimin’s neck and he hadn’t pulled them off.
Jeongguk stills. Breath caught in his lungs. Time fractures, breaks open right down the middle. Jeongguk feels he might be split in two - thinks the pain of that might be better than this. He forgets how to blink. How to move his mouth into anything other than pure, utter disbelief.
The wounds are fresh and deep, and the longer Jeongguk stares, the more he sees; one blooms just below Jimin’s jaw, another low by his collarbone where his shirt gapes open. Too dark to be accidental, too intentional to be meaningless. There’s a smudge that looks like a bite. There are fingerprints.
Jeongguk’s stomach caves in on itself like gravity just flipped sideways; like he tripped and fell in a dream, but this feeling is real and won’t go away.
Jeongguk knew Jimin was sleeping with other people. But seeing the visual, tangible proof of someone else, someone who Jimin let put their signature on his neck, stamps of red, fresh and taunting, is all too much. He thinks he might scream, or throw up, or put his fist through his window just to see if he can feel anything, to see if this is real life, to see if this white-hot, devastatingly agonising pain is now his entire existence.
Jeongguk knew Jimin was sleeping with other people. But words were just words. This is worse. Because now it has a shape. A mouth. A body. A someone else.
And Jimin brought it with him.
Jimin brought them into Jeongguk’s home, where they’ve been countless times before, like it was nothing. Like they were nothing. He wore them like trophies, showing Jeongguk exactly what he isn’t. Not even close. Not even allowed to kiss the skin that is now covered in bites from someone worthy, someone who matters to Jimin.
Jeongguk has never been enough for that privilege.
The room feels too small, the air too thick, choking him. His heart is beating so furiously in his chest that his ribs might crack and splinter apart inside him.
“Jeongguk?” Jimin’s voice breaks Jeongguk from the silence, soft yet daring. It’s more painful to hear than the ringing in his ears.
“Are you serious?” Jeongguk breathes, barely above a whisper, his vision tunnelled to the marks on Jimin’s neck.
“Jeongguk, what-“ Jimin starts as he makes to come closer. Jeongguk steps back, so far back that he collides with the wall. It offers him some stability for the body that he’s not sure he’s attached to anymore.
“You seriously came here… with those on you?” He hates how raw he sounds, how truly and utterly broken the words come out. But the facade is shattered, his mask has slipped off and smashed to the floor. It all comes spilling out. All the hurt, all the hope he wasn’t supposed to have. All of it.
He isn’t supposed to care this much.
He isn’t supposed to care at all.
He bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood.
And Jimin just stands there, emotionless. Like he’s shocked by Jeongguk’s behaviour, like Jeongguk is the one being unreasonable.
Jimin’s silence is a hammer to the chest - each second carving deeper and deeper into what little remained of Jeongguk’s wavering composure.
“I didn’t think it would matter,” Jimin finally says, voice low and measured, calculated.
Jeongguk lets out a breathless gasp, “You didn’t-?” His voice cracks, and he hates the way it sounds, but he’s so truly wrung down to the bone that he can’t find it in himself to care. “You didn’t think it would matter?” Jeongguk continues, eyes darting between Jimin’s and back to the marks on his neck. “You didn’t think I would matter?”
“I didn’t say that,” Jimin argues, stepping forward. If Jeongguk could morph with the wall, he would; he feels like a caged animal, like prey under the watchful and hungry eye of its predator.
“But that’s what you meant.”
“Just because you have feelings for me doesn’t make you my boyfriend, Jeongguk.”
There it is - the nail in the coffin.
Jeongguk’s breath is sucked out of his lungs so quickly he nearly chokes. He sways where he’s standing, reaching a hand out to steady himself on the wall, all too suddenly and violently reattached to his earthly body, as if he were being pieced back together just to be ripped apart again.
Jimin knew.
Jimin doesn’t have to say those words aloud for Jeongguk to hear them echo in his skull. He knew about Jeongguk’s feelings all along. Jeongguk can handle the rejection, that part isn’t new; what is new is the knowledge that Jeongguk has been walking around with his heart in his hands, and Jimin just watched as it twitched and bled in front of him, remaining impassive, as if it had nothing to do with him, like he could just leave Jeongguk’s apartment and forget all about it.
Jimin knew.
He knew, and he still came to Jeongguk’s apartment, neck blooming under someone else’s attention, like it wouldn’t change anything. Like it wouldn’t change anything for him, but everything for Jeongguk.
He feels stupid. So stupid.
How many times had he asked Jimin to stay? How many times did he soften his voice when saying Jimin’s name? How many times had he whispered those words of endearment into Jimin’s ear, pressed into him so wholly and intimately? How many moments had Jimin laughed at him when Jeongguk wasn’t there, watching as Jeongguk scrambled to catch any moment of Jimin’s attention?
Jeongguk swallows, and it’s like his throat is filled with glass, tiny shards cutting away at the flesh, stripping away whatever is left of him.
“What?” Jeongguk manages.
“I know you have feelings for me,” Jimin says again, and it still hurts just the same. The nail sinks deeper into the coffin.
“How could you know that?” Jeongguk’s mind races, trying to convince himself he wasn’t obvious, wasn’t so pathetically in love with Jimin that it was clear from the beginning.
“You’re not exactly subtle, and you’re not denying it now.” Jimin’s tone is close to sneering, as if he is the one who has been wronged by Jeongguk’s feelings.
“Oh my God.” Jeongguk’s hand goes to his chest, feeling his heart pound against his rib cage, a cruel reminder of this cruel reality. “You knew.”
Jimin doesn’t respond right away. Doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t even look sorry. He just stands there in Jeongguk’s apartment like this is some conversation they’ve had a million times before, like it’s not tearing Jeongguk apart from the inside out.
“You knew,” Jeongguk repeats, louder this time, anger and betrayal bleeding into his voice. “And you still- God-“ He can barely fit the words together, like it’s a giant Rubik’s cube and it’s too much for his mind to comprehend. He gestures towards the marks on Jimin’s neck, his eyes watering. He begs himself not to cry. “You still showed up like that. With love bites on your neck.”
“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a bite,” Jimin replies, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Jeongguk blinks owlishly.
“I can’t believe this is happening right now,” Jeongguk blurts, his hands finding his hair and pulling, pacing back and forth, one arm brushing the wall like it might keep him standing up if his legs were to give way beneath him. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Jimin stays silent, watching Jeongguk as if he’s some kind of freak show that he gets front row tickets to watch.
“I can’t do this. You have to leave right now, Jimin.” Jeongguk’s voice is firm, yet he can feel the way he quivers. Jimin’s eyes widen as if surprised. Maybe he was sure Jeongguk would roll over like he had done every other time, eager to please. But now everything has changed.
“Come on, baby. Don’t be like this,” Jimin tries to reason, stepping forward.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” Jeongguk snaps, stepping around Jimin and yanking open the door with as much strength and conviction as he can find in the ruins of his being. “Get out.”
Jimin stares at him incredulously.
Jeongguk nearly laughs.
What had he expected from Jeongguk? Had he expected him to pick him up, carry him to bed and move on like nothing happened? That he could just turn a blind eye to the neon bright sign on Jimin’s neck saying that Jeongguk doesn’t matter to him?
“I’ll call you, okay? I want to keep seeing you,” Jimin replies, picking up his coat and scarf. Jeongguk’s jaw drops in disbelief.
The audacity.
This time, Jeongguk does laugh.
“I can’t believe you. Get out, Jimin.”
As soon as Jimin is over the threshold, Jeongguk slams the door behind him, the walls rattling with the finality of it.
He doesn’t cry. Not at first.
He stares at the empty space where Jimin had been, where he had first seen him, wrapped up and ridiculously cosy, before Jimin had driven a stake right through his heart.
And then, slowly, as the silence swells and swells until it’s howling in his ears - he slides to the floor, presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, and finally lets it all break loose.
It comes out of him in ugly, broken pieces, ragged sobs that claw their way up from somewhere deep inside Jeongguk he couldn’t name, but that is scorching with pain. The void where he shoved all of his feelings before bursts open like a violently erupting volcano, spilling over the top, raw and uncontained. The tears run hot and wild from his eyes, burning tracks down Jeongguk’s cheeks, as if they’re painting a permanent reminder of the pain he feels.
He wants to hate Jimin.
He tries to. The anger he tries so desperately to hold on to slips between his fingers, replaced with the gut-wrenching, soul-crushing ache of loving someone who never planned to love you back.
The humiliation - God, it’s everywhere, crawls under his skin and settles in his gut like rot, eating its way through Jeongguk’s insides, parasitic and unyielding.
Every memory flashes behind his eyes with new, brutal clarity: all the late nights pressed against each other, feeling the exact moment when they met their peaks, the times they had shared a kiss, soft enough for Jeongguk to have hoped it could’ve meant something.
All of the softness, all of the rawness - none of it real.
Jeongguk had given so much of himself, so much of his body, his time, his affection, his hope. His belief that if he just stayed, if he waited patiently and loved quietly, that Jimin would wake up one day and realise what was there all along. That Jeongguk had been there all along, eagerly waiting for him to return his love.
But Jimin knew.
Jimin knew, and it had changed nothing.
That breaks something new inside of Jeongguk, something that weeps for him, because it was never Jimin’s ignorance. It was apathy. It was Jimin’s conscious decision to take and take and to never give back. To absorb everything Jeongguk had and simply walk away with it.
Jeongguk whispers Jimin’s name like it’s the last time it’ll ever be said, as if it would conjure an apology or a cure for the way he’s feeling. But there’s nothing. No answer.
The silence is a reminder that Jimin had never once been his to lose.
Eventually, after an hour or so, Jeongguk manages to crawl to the bedroom and call Taehyung’s number, who picks up after three rings.
“Hey! I was just about to call you, actually. You’ll never guess what happened today at work. Hoseok-“ Taehyung starts animatedly, cheerful, whilst Jeongguk sits hugging his knees to his chest, like he might break apart if he doesn’t.
“Hyung, I’m Icarus,” Jeongguk interrupts, covering his mouth as another sob threatens to wretch itself from within.
“You’re what?”
“I’m Icarus. Please come over.”
“Are you having a stroke?” Taehyung’s voice is too concerned for Jeongguk’s heart to take, and the sob he attempted to keep in spills out. “I’m on my way, okay?” Jeongguk nods, even though Taehyung can’t see him and curls in on himself.
Taehyung stays on the phone until Jeongguk hears the familiar noise of the keycode being punched in, and his best friend calls out, “Gguk, where are you?”
“In here,” Jeongguk manages weakly.
There’s the sound of Taehyung dropping his bag onto the living room floor before dashing into the bedroom, “God, are you okay? Why are you on the floor? Are you hurt?”
The words evade Jeongguk, so he just looks up at Taehyung and throws himself into his lap, grasping onto Taehyung’s shoulders like he might float away if he doesn’t hold on tightly.
“Okay, okay. Shhh,” Taehyung calms, his hand stroking through the hair on the back of Jeongguk’s hair as he shakes in his arms. “Can you tell me if you’re hurt? Are you?” Jeongguk doesn’t quite know how to answer - he is hurt, but not in the way Taehyung means. He shakes his head no, and Taehyung relaxes.
“Okay, let’s take some deep breaths, hm?”
They spend some time on the floor, Jeongguk’s tears wetting the material of Taehyung’s t-shirt as he is gently rocked in his best friend’s lap, a calming hand running up and down his back rhythmically, whilst Taehyung models some deep breaths, which eventually, Jeongguk is able to match.
“What’s happened?” Taehyung says after a while, when Jeongguk’s sobs have turned into small hiccups. “Is it your mom? Your dad?” Jeongguk shakes his head.
He doesn’t even know where to begin, how to tell Taehyung without being swallowed by the humiliation. How to kick his pride to the side and admit that Taehyung was right all along, how to ask Taehyung to forgive him.
“Jimin,” Jeongguk mutters, scooting out of Taehyung’s lap and wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks. His voice hardly sounds like his own, nasally and thick with emotion. He sees Taehyung visibly deflate, his mouth curving into a tight frown. “He was supposed to come over the day after you were here, but he blew me off. Didn’t reply. I didn’t think anything of it because he does that sometimes.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and tuts under his breath. Jeongguk tenses, but he doesn’t even know why he is trying to defend Jimin anymore - it’s infuriating: the battle between love and logic.
“So, he came over today, instead. And-and, when he showed up.” Jeongguk gulps, the emotion collecting in his throat again. “He had all these bites on his neck. He hadn’t even tried to hide them.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. “I just lost it. He said they were just bites, that it didn’t mean anything. But I was never allowed to leave marks. And how could he- how could he come here to fuck me with those ugly fucking things on his neck.” The anger bubbles on his tongue, and he can see Taehyung feels the same, fists clenched against the rug below them.
“And then he confessed he knew about my feelings for him, and how that doesn’t change the fact that we’re not dating. He knew. He knew how I felt and still came over with the marks of someone else on him.” The rage builds, his eyes flooding with hot, angry tears, spilling down his cheeks. “He still kept coming over even when he knew. Who-who the fuck does that?”
He can’t look at Taehyung, because if he sees pity in his eyes, if he sees that knowing look of, I told you so, he might actually scream. He grips onto his knees, trying desperately not to unravel more than he already has.
“I keep thinking that maybe, you know, maybe I was just making it up. Maybe there was nothing between us. Maybe I had painted this stupid fantasy of us, and it didn’t mean anything. But it did. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me. It meant something to me.” Jeongguk’s whole body aches, his throat raw from crying, his chest empty where his heart used to be.
“He just wanted sex, the convenience of me. And I let him.” His voice breaks again, but no tears fall. “He saw me. He saw everything. And he still chose to hurt me.” He feels so small, vulnerable and open, like one small gust of wind could blow him out of existence forever.
There’s nothing left to say after that. He’s boneless, completely consumed with the pain, but wrung dry.
And now all that’s left to do is sit in the wreckage that was never real to anyone but him.
A while passes before Taehyung speaks up, Jeongguk jumps slightly - he’d forgotten he was there, nearly entirely consumed in his grief. “He’s such a dick.” Jeongguk looks up, eyes finally meeting Taehyung’s, who, instead of looking pitiful, looks like he might cry, too. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.” Taehyung shuffles next to the bed to sling an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, hugging him tightly to his side. Jeongguk is grateful, afraid that he might cease to exist if Taehyung lets go.
“I don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling right now. I might be dying.”
“You’re not dying, honey. I promise you.” Jeongguk isn’t sure he fully believes him. “You’re Icarus. I get it. Flew too close to the sun. Even in crisis, you still have time to make a joke, for fucksake,” Taehyung ends with a chuckle.
“It’s the only thing I could think of. How you said Jimin wasn’t the sun. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it before I got burnt.”
“You don’t need to apologise to me for anything, Gguk-ah.”
“I should’ve just listened to you, but I was too fucking stubborn,” Jeongguk bites out, angry with himself at his blindness.
“Hey, come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself, you’ve done nothing wrong. Jimin is the one at fault. Not you, okay?”
Jeongguk stays silent, the part of him still clinging onto loving Jimin keeping him quiet.
“Come on, I need to hear you say it,” Taehyung presses on, his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, making him look at him straight in the eye.
“Jimin’s the one at fault, not me,” Jeongguk mutters, but he doesn’t fully believe those words. Not yet.
“Good. And you better keep telling yourself that every day. You can’t wallow forever, not after we install your new update, which has crazy buffs by the way, and the patch notes say Jimin has been deleted from all the files. Some kind of weird bug.” Jeongguk’s lips twitch into a small smile, for the first time in what feels like forever, and he laughs, real and genuine.
“You’re such a loser.”
“Whatever. It made you laugh.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too,” Taehyung replies, pressing a gentle kiss to Jeongguk’s forehead. “Love you so much that my ass is numb from the floor. Can we get up now?”
“Yeah, fuck. My head is killing me.”
And somehow Taehyung has pieced together a small part of Jeongguk - nowhere near enough for him to be whole again, but enough to pick himself up off the floor and welcome the warm embrace from his best friend. Enough to fall into bed, Taehyung by his side.
The room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the city below Jeongguk’s window. His chest still aches, but it’s no longer the violent, searing pain it was. No longer screaming but lingering.
Taehyung’s hand closes around Jeongguk’s with no hesitation, and it makes him want to cry from how much he feels he doesn’t deserve it.
Not your fault.
He repeats it in his head.
Maybe it’s not yet healing. But it’s something.
And for tonight, that’s enough.
The morning after, Jeongguk sits on the bed with his phone clutched in his hand, while Taehyung sits beside him, brushing his teeth, as if this isn’t monumental, as if this is the first real step to removing Jimin from his life
The sky outside is grey, and the winter rain is heavy. It’s as if the world knows how deep Jeongguk’s pain is, how worn down to the bone he feels, as if the bitter cold he lets through his window might numb the pain.
He stares at the contact name, a reminder of how he should’ve ended things when everything started going downhill, when their hookups started to become painful, when Jeongguk started crying more than laughing.
Taehyung returns from the bathroom, his attention entirely on Jeongguk. He thankfully doesn’t comment on the name. It saves Jeongguk some dignity.
“You ready?” Taehyung asks, a hand on his thigh, a warming presence as if to say, ‘I’m here. You’re not going through this alone.’
Jeongguk doesn’t answer. His thumb hovers over the delete button. He has to force his eyes to stay open as he presses it.
The contact disappears from the list. The rain keeps falling. The world keeps spinning.
Jeongguk laughs, bitter and dry. “This feels pathetic.”
“It’s not. This is a big thing. This is you taking back control. You loved him. That won’t just go away overnight,” Taehyung reasons.
He’s right, but it’s hard. Mourning the loss of something Jeongguk never had.
“I just keep thinking, maybe if I’d been less intense, less pushy-“
“No. Don’t do that,” Taehyung admonishes. He’s quick to notice how fast Jeongguk starts to spiral. “He was in the wrong, remember? You were vulnerable, and that takes courage. He was the coward to keep stringing you along.”
Jeongguk nods, not truthfully believing Taehyung’s words, but listening, nonetheless.
Even in the ruin of heartbreak, with Jimin still lodged in his chest like a splinter, Jeongguk can feel the beginning of something shifting.
He’s still hurting, but he’s not alone. And that’s a start.
Jeongguk and Taehyung both take a sick day, so Taehyung marches him outside for a walk, despite Jeongguk’s incessant protests.
The cold is refreshing, the rain running off Jeongguk’s burning skin. He lets some of his grief run off with it.
Jimin messages a couple of times. Despite Jeongguk deleting the contact, he still recognises the number. A part of him begs him to reply, to open the void and shove his feelings down, take him back, love him again; another minuscule part of him relishes Jimin’s grovelling. Taehyung’s feelings mirror the latter.
They spend the day warming back up in Jeongguk’s apartment, massacring hordes of zombies to distract him from the heartbreak.
It works.
Until Jeongguk’s phone begins to ring.
A familiar number. Jimin never calls.
He stares at the screen, his fingers twitching where they’re holding the controller.
The second crawls by, every ring twists the knife deeper in Jeongguk’s chest. He reaches out before his brain has time to stop him, his body aching to have Jimin back. Next to him, Taehyung readies himself to leap over and smack the phone right out of Jeongguk’s hand.
He holds the phone with two hands, thumbs far away from the green button that calls to him, tempting. He knows if he answers, it’s giving Jimin permission. Permission to hurt him again. Permission to crush Jeongguk under his foot like he’s so good at doing.
He stares and holds his breath. He fights every instinct in his body, trembling where he’s sat.
When the call finally ends, the silence is deafening. His hands feel cold, eyes burning with unshed tears.
He locks the screen and places it face down.
Taehyung releases a shaky breath, and Jeongguk turns to him.
Nothing needs to be said.
They resume their game, like Jimin never existed at all.