Are You Sure

by yoonkisses

Summary:

“Do you want to fuck me, hyung?” Jungkook asked, so quietly. Lips brushing as he spoke, sinking further down against his crotch. They were fully pressed together, now. All of Jungkook’s weight on him. “I want both, hyung. We could try both.” 

Jimin’s mouth parted, processing it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Or: Jungkook visits Jimin after Are You Sure?! season 2.

“Jimin-ssi!” Jungkook called as Jimin opened his door, the boy grinning in a loose black t-shirt and shorts and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, because he probably had. 

“Jungkook-ssi.” Jimin stepped aside for him to slip his shoes off. “You know you know my door code now?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook beamed, a hand lifting to the back of Jimin’s hair and fluffing it. “You want me to just come in now?”

“Not really,” Jimin snorted.

He led Jungkook to his bedroom and collapsed onto the mattress, because he’d like to sleep about three hours longer. 

It was half past one, but he’d barely been awake when Jungkook had texted asking if he could come over without any explanation, although he hadn’t really needed one.

And here Jungkook was closing the door behind him, jumping into bed beside him, not even thirty minutes later. Jimin had barely had time to shower and brush his teeth. 

“Were you still asleep?” 

“Kind of,” Jimin huffed.

They’d both been drinking with Yoongi the night before, curled on his couch while Jungkook pet his cat and Yoongi chuckled at stories of their time in the military. It was 3am before they’d gotten their rides home, full of food and soju and finally feeling like everything was getting back to normal. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook beamed, lying flat on his belly with an arm beneath his cheek, reaching out to squeeze Jimin’s bicep. “I felt like coming over.”

“I can see that.” Jimin reached up to squeeze his arm right back, letting out a giant breath and closing his eyes again. It was still mostly dark in his room, he’d only opened his blackout curtains a little bit. “I think it’s been two years since I’ve gone a whole week without seeing you.”

The last time they’d even come close had been their last vacation from the military, maybe. They’d seen each other almost constantly for two years, spending most of their days together, sharing the same room at night, their trip to Switzerland, their trip to Vietnam after that. It had only been a few days since they’d attended Seokjin’s concert, and they’d somehow also seen each other every day since then. 

“I know,” Jungkook grinned. “It would feel kind of weird, now.” 

Jimin opened his eyes a crack and peeked at him, letting it actually sink in. 

Before they enlisted they’d all been on their own, truly on their own, for the first time in maybe a decade. The seven of them moved into separate homes, finally learning what having their own space felt like. Their own places to decorate, room to breathe, freedom, silence. But it had never stopped feeling weird to be away from them, after being together for so long. He’d shared a room with Hoseok for so many years that it had taken him a full week to stop thinking he’d be there in the morning.

But then Jimin had enlisted, and he’d lost any semblance of quiet he’d learned to love.

Having Jungkook close was more comforting than he’d even expected, a piece of home in all of the chaos. 

And he wasn’t used to being apart from him, now. Not that he’d really had the chance to be, yet, but it felt weird imagining not being at least a short drive away from him. Not being able to let him crash in his bed five seconds after waking up.

“I don’t even think it’ll happen for another two years, either,” Jimin huffed, letting his eyes adjust to the light through the curtains. “We’ll be in LA soon.” 

Jungkook nodded. They both knew what was coming, a landslide of music and writing and dancing and practicing, eventually touring and interviews and remembering what it felt like to be a celebrity. Finally all together again. Finally free. Once they started work back up, he couldn’t imagine not seeing them all at least a few times per week. It felt like warmth finally returning in the spring. 

“Do you ever get sick of me?” Jimin mumbled, mostly joking.

“Are you kidding?” 

“Kind of.”

“I’ll never get sick of you,” Jungkook huffed, cheek tucked to his arm, turning onto his side so he could face him fully. “Hyung. I’ve never been sick of you.”

Jimin sucked in a breath as flashes of memories flickered by, how hard they’d laughed in the military despite how difficult it was, long nights on tour when they’d talked until passing out in the same bed, practicing dancing until they lost their minds while they were still just teenagers.

“Thanks,” Jimin whispered, letting Jungkook’s words hit him where they wanted to. Right below his chest. Aching with something he hadn’t let himself stop to think about in a long time. He turned onto his side to face him, too. “I’ll never get sick of you either, just for the record.”

“I think it would’ve happened by now, if it was going to happen.” Jungkook grinned, scratching behind an ear. His earrings were back in, finally, the two rings back in his lip, but their hair was still cropped short.

They’d been through so fucking much together.

“I like you a lot, Jungkook-ssi. I’m glad you came.” Jimin pat his arm, something warm like sleep tugging on him in the dark. “Even though you woke me up.”

“Did I actually?”

“No, I’m kidding.” Jimin grinned. “But I would’ve gone back to bed if you hadn’t texted me.”

“Go to sleep, then,” Jungkook pouted. “Let’s sleep. I was just bored.”

Jimin felt a twang of that warmth again, the fact that Jungkook would choose him even after endless months together. Something about being together in his bed, away from anyone else, away from cameras. Nothing to do besides whatever they wanted. 

“Have you eaten?”

“I had leftovers. I’m not hungry,” Jungkook answered. “But I’ll cook if you want me to.”

Jimin grinned. Jungkook’s cooking had genuinely become his favorite.

“Maybe later, thank you. I kind of do want to sleep.”

Jungkook reached out to tangle a hand in Jimin’s hair, scratching at his scalp before kneading at the back of Jimin’s neck. 

He was always doing that. Touching him. Comforting even when he wasn’t trying to. Always, always there. 

“That felt good,” Jimin rasped when he pulled away, letting his eyes close again. 

“What?”

“The hair thing.” Jimin sank down in the dark. “Felt good.”

Jungkook threaded into his hair again, fingers gentle. Petting back and forth, back and forth. Pulling out to tousle his hair, then scratching in long strokes, front to back. “I thought you didn’t like people touching your head.”

“I like that,” Jimin mumbled, too tired to open his eyes. 

He could hear Jungkook’s chuckle, a second hand coming up to scratch the other side of Jimin’s head. A shiver raced down his spine, and he breathed the tiniest whimper before even thinking to stop it. 

“Does it feel good?” 

Jimin scrunched his eyes shut tighter and hoped Jungkook couldn’t see the heat rising in his ears. 

“Yeah,” he rasped. Let his eyes flutter open to Jungkook watching him, doe eyes focused on his face as one hand returned to the back of his neck, massaging him there. 

Jungkook met Jimin’s eyes and grinned, bunny smile and kind eyes, and Jimin closed his eyes again. 

Calm, quiet, peace. It was just them, here. Jungkook petting quietly through his hair, his hand leaving his neck to brush over Jimin’s cheek. 

“I like your cheeks, hyung.”

Jimin huffed, heart twisting in a way he didn’t want to think about. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed, stroking up and down his cheek as he scratched his scalp. “Soft.”

Jimin inhaled and exhaled slowly.

He didn’t want to think about it.

Didn’t want to give in to warm hands and quiet voice and gentle breathing. Because he had thought about it. He’d thought about it way too many times, always before shoving it as far down as he could shove it and trying to never think about it again. Jungkook who loved him, and loved him, and loved him. Who touched him constantly, who wanted to be around him, who’d enlisted with him so they wouldn’t have to spend two years apart. Jungkook who was beautiful and brave and carried his heart in his eyes. Who loved trying new things and sang like a bird and made him laugh until he cried. Who supported him through his hardest times, who’d always been there, who’d known him for half of his life. 

Jungkook who was perfect. Jungkook who smelled so good and laughed like happiness and always made life better. Jungkook who would do anything with him if Jimin asked for it. Jungkook who was whispering to him in the dark, finally alone after two years together. 

Jungkook who was always touching him. 

“Thank you,” Jimin forced out, refusing to open his eyes again.

He couldn’t fucking want him.

There was no way in one billion years that it would ever end well. Not when they were best friends, band mates, celebrities. Even if Jungkook did, somehow, in some way want him back, he’d risk absolutely everything by telling him. He couldn’t say it out loud for how many things would shatter the moment he said it. Their careers, their friendship, his trust in him. Everything was on the line, absolutely everything. Even if he did like him back, how many things could go wrong? What if he didn’t like him as much? What if he didn’t like him at all? What if they lost their friendship, their future, their careers?

Jimin took a deep breath and focused on shoving the feeling back down as he exhaled, the feeling he never let himself feel, true overwhelming want. And then Jungkook’s hand moved to cup his cheek properly. 

Thumb tracing back and forth over the rise of his cheek, warm palm, soft skin.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin whispered, eyes still shut. The tips of Jungkook’s fingers were resting on his neck, at the base of his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. Over and over again.

He wanted to ask him to stop, except he didn’t want that at all. Wanted to melt into the comfort of it, the safety of him. 

Jungkook waited quietly for Jimin to finish his sentence, before adjusting himself on his pillow. Jimin opened his eyes and Jungkook was watching his face.

“It’s-” Jimin started again, not even sure what he wanted to say.

Jungkook hummed like a question, because maybe he could see that Jimin was a little out of it. The hand on his cheek moved to Jimin’s bicep, kneading at him. “Hyung, do you want to cuddle?”

Jimin inhaled sharp through his nose, nodding before letting himself think too much. 

They cuddled all the time, but so much had changed in two years. So much had changed in two weeks. They’d spent so much time together that he could barely remember what it was like to be without him, moving in a rhythm that was even stronger than the decade before. Breathing quietly in the dark, Jungkook’s hand on his cheek, that feeling at the forefront of his fucking brain.

So incredibly present that his chest hurt.

Jungkook rolled onto his back and Jimin scooted into him, tucking into the warmth and the smell of him. So familiar it fucking hurt, because Jungkook felt like home. Jimin’s forehead pressed to his neck as he wrapped an arm around Jungkook’s middle.

Jungkook’s hand returned to his hair, scratching in slow strokes.

They’d done so many new things in just the last few weeks alone. Traveling and food and swimming and playing games, laughing nonstop together. They’d paraglided, parasailed, he’d watched Jungkook jump into a fucking canyon. Jimin had haggled with an old woman. Jungkook had been chased by a swan. They’d shared beds, gotten massages, cooked together, they’d cuddled. And that whole entire time, he hadn’t let himself think about it.

They were just friends.

And being friends was easy, so fucking easy, until this moment, apparently. Until he could feel the last few years melting off of him as his body relaxed, could feel Jungkook’s heart beating under his cheek. 

Jungkook’s weight shifted and then his free hand was on Jimin’s back, the other still in his hair. Petting over him, over and over again.

Jimin’s hand pressed to Jungkook’s waist. 

Nothing mattered, like this. It didn’t matter if Jungkook felt the same, that they would never have anything more. It didn’t matter. They had this.

“Were you going to say something, hyung?”

“Hm?”

“A second ago,” Jungkook murmured, and Jimin could feel his voice vibrate in his chest. “You said my name.

“Oh. No,” Jimin mumbled, inhaling and all he could smell was him. “No, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

Like this, Jimin could pretend his face wasn’t twisted up as he thought about it. How embarrassing it was. Jimin was his hyung. His older brother and his best friend. It was so fucking embarrassing having feelings for him, even if he was great at pretending they didn’t exist. Good at ignoring it every time Jungkook took someone else home, every time Jimin did the same. Wrestling together and laughing together and always touching each other, because that was just their normal. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything if Jungkook wanted other people, people who were nothing like him. And even if it did, they couldn’t be together anyway. 

Jungkook shifted his weight to rest more on his side than his back, only so he could hug Jimin properly, bodies pressed together in almost every way they could be. Jungkook’s hand picked up stroking down his back, tracing where his moons were. 

Jungkook had already been strong before, but they’d both gotten stronger. Firm muscles cradling Jimin’s body, surrounding him, fit everywhere and always so warm. Thighs and stomach and chest. 

Jimin buried his forehead farther into him.

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked, just to stay something. 

“No.” Jungkook traced down to his lower back and scratched him there. “Do you want to do something?”

“I don’t know.” Jimin tried to think of literally anything that wasn’t this. “We could go shopping, maybe.”

“I’m down,” Jungkook agreed, nodding so his cheek brushed Jimin’s hair. “I’m fine with anything, honestly.” 

“I feel bad asking you to cook, but I would genuinely love that.”

“Don’t feel bad, hyung,” Jungkook laughed. “I love cooking for you.”

Jimin exhaled hard through his nose and nodded. “I don’t really have much food, though.”

“Let’s get groceries, then,” Jungkook decided, hand leaving Jimin’s back to push his hair from his forehead, scratching at his head again. “What do you want?”

“I liked that pasta you made, at the first place in Switzerland, I think. With the garlic.”

“I can do that,” Jungkook agreed, and a few moments passed. “I’m getting sleepy.”

“Sleep.” Jimin smiled, squeezing his waist with the arm around him. 

“Can we close the curtains more?”

Jimin peeked up at where the light was pouring through a crack, dragging himself out of Jungkook’s arms to climb off the bed and pad over. It was nearly pitch black once the curtains were shut, the only light coming from his bathroom window, from under the bedroom door. His knees hit the mattress before he flopped onto it, climbing a few feet until he patted around for Jungkook’s thigh, his waist, his chest. 

He heard Jungkook giggling at Jimin fumbling in the dark, eyes not adjusted yet, grabby hands reaching out to Jimin’s arms to guide him. He blocked him from hitting the headboard, and Jimin fell back into a pillow. 

He searched around for the blanket until Jungkook understood, both moving to dig it out from underneath them and pull it over top. Jimin buried himself in it, pulled it up to his chin, decided the less they were touching, the better. He was thinking too many things.

But it was less than twenty seconds before Jungkook was already throwing an arm around his waist, a leg over Jimin’s, head on Jimin’s chest, feet tangling together as he made himself small in his side like a puppy. 

Jimin huffed, and accepted it. Unpinned his arm from under Jungkook and wrapped it around his back. Picked up stroking him the same way Jungkook had been doing for him, his weight on Jimin’s chest enough to calm him down.

Jungkook sighed against him.

Jungkook was familiar. Jungkook was safe. 

Jimin didn’t know why it was so hard for him to stop thinking about it, this time. Why it was rolling around in his head like water about to spill. He’d spent so long ignoring it that it only took one quiet day to remind him, apparently.

Or maybe it was that this was one of the first times in years that they’d actually been completely alone. 

It had been harder, in the very beginning. When two years after debut Jimin had to literally look himself in the mirror and promise himself that he didn’t like him, not like that. There was no way he liked him. He loved all of the members, of course he loved being close to them. Of course he’d woken up from dreams about all of them, had looked at them all a little too long when he was drunk. Of course he did. Jungkook was no different, he was just like the others. Jungkook was his giant puppy younger brother, and they loved each other a lot, but not like that. They were touchy all the time, but not like that. They fell asleep together all the time, but not like that. 

He pet up and down Jungkook’s back to soothe himself, quiet distraction, back and forth. Moving slowly while Jungkook adjusted his leg between Jimin’s thighs, rested against his chest. Back and forth. Eyes closed and thinking of the last few weeks together, the views over Switzerland, green trees, blue water, pretty birds. Back and forth. 

It would be best if he just fell asleep, no more thinking. Quiet dark and the hum of Jungkook’s heartbeat. Fingertips tracing up and down his back. Reaching the base of his shirt and feeling the skin there, back and forth.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched against his waist. Eyes closed as Jimin traced Jungkook’s skin, tucking under his shirt to press his palm to the warmth there. Jungkook’s chest inhaling, exhaling. Soothing touches to his back, down to the waistband of Jungkook’s shorts. Petting there. Letting his finger dip beneath the band and back out again, tracing along the fabric. 

Jungkook was alert enough that Jimin knew he wasn’t asleep yet, scratching him gently over his back, trying not to tickle. Tracing circles over his skin and feeling the puff of breath against his neck, his hand on Jimin’s waist, the quiet. 

The smallest tug in Jimin’s body asked him to turn over, he knew he’d be more comfortable on his side. Jungkook wasn’t asleep yet, anyway, so he tipped himself away from him, like his little spoon, Jungkook’s arm relaxing to let him move. Jimin reached back to find Jungkook’s hand again, pulled his arm back around his waist, slotted their fingers together. Scooted himself backwards until his back was pressed flush to Jungkook’s stomach, until his ass brushed the solid bulge in Jungkook’s shorts.

Jimin’s eyes shot open, blinking against the air.

Sensation tickling his limbs as realization crept through him. 

Jungkook was hard. 

Jungkook was hard while they were cuddling in his bed, while Jimin was having the mental breakdown he hadn’t let himself had in ages.

A few seconds were enough to convince him that he’d just imagined it, that he wasn’t actually hard, he’d felt something else. He moved around again like he was getting more comfortable, letting his ass touch him the tiniest, tiniest bit, before Jungkook made the smallest squeak and pulled away. 

Jungkook was hard. 

It wasn’t surprising. Of course he was hard. They were cuddling in the dark and Jimin had just been petting Jungkook’s skin. Jimin had gotten hard around him more times than he’d admit to anyone, but he’d always been able to hide it. 

But Jungkook was hard right now. With his arm around Jimin’s waist, and their hands tangled together, and his chest pressed to Jimin’s back. 

A few more seconds before Jungkook squeezed his hand and started fidgeting with Jimin’s fingers, tapping in a rhythm at Jimin’s stomach. 

Another few seconds before Jungkook scooted his hips back again, like he was making sure they weren’t touching. 

Another few seconds, and then Jungkook mumbled a quiet, “Sorry, hyung.”

“For what?” Jimin chirped, because it wasn’t a big deal. It was Jimin’s fault for bumping into him. Nothing was Jungkook’s fault.

“The-” Jungkook stopped, breathed, fidgeted more. “Sorry.” 

Jimin weighed pretending nothing had happened a second time, but he had felt it. Jungkook knew Jimin had felt it. Jimin had felt the curve of his cock rock fucking solid against his ass, and Jungkook had made a sound when he’d done it. He knew Jimin had felt it. 

“It’s okay, Gguk-ah,” Jimin whispered. “Sorry I bumped you.”

Jungkook made a little noise and Jimin buried his cheek farther into the pillow, shut his eyes and realized how tense Jungkook had gotten, frozen like he was afraid to move. Jimin untangled their hands to squeeze at his palm, massaging it before tangling their fingers back together.

“It felt good,” Jungkook’s voice came small behind him, body still tense, thumb swiping up and down over Jimin’s stomach.

Jimin’s brain short-circuited as he realized he didn’t know what he’d meant. 

“What did?”

“You touching my back like that,” Jungkook whispered, body fidgeting a little until he could bury his head into the base of Jimin’s neck. He squeezed his palm. “Felt good.”

“You were doing the same for me,” Jimin answered, breathing deeply and feeling him relax a bit. “Gguk-ah. Scratching my back like that.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s voice was raspy where he was buried in Jimin’s back. “Sorry, it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Jimin argued without even pausing to consider it, because it wasn’t. They touched each other all the time, every day, it wasn’t weird to like it. “I don’t mind, Gguk-ah.” 

Jungkook made another small noise and Jimin’s heart squeezed, aching with how quietly he was speaking. “Felt nice.” 

“Yeah?” Jimin could hear the smallest hint of something in his voice. They knew each other too well. “Want more?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook asked in a whisper, and then he pulled his forehead back to bump it back into the base of Jimin’s neck, repeating it a few times like he was thinking about it. “No. I don’t know.” 

“I’ll do it more if you want.”

“I know,” Jungkook breathed. “Sorry. Too good.”

Jimin knew he was saying something without saying it, barely speaking because he was afraid to ask for too much. Realized that if Jimin were in Jungkook’s position, hard and embarrassed and tangled together, he would feel like sinking beneath the bed.

“I don’t mind, Jungkook-ah.”

He focused on Jungkook breathing against his back, could almost hear how loud he was thinking. 

“I don’t mind,” Jimin promised. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook’s hand twitched in Jimin’s. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin breathed. He needed to see him, untangling their hands to flip over onto his other side, facing him now. There was enough light to see his face, Jungkook’s eyes round as he stared at him. 

Jungkook’s mouth parted before closing again.

“It felt good, hyung,” he finally said. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s been forever,” Jungkook rasped.

Jimin’s mind raced in tight circles. 

Tired boy warm and hard and buried in Jimin’s bed.

“Almost two years?” Jimin offered around the lump in his throat, trying to remember, because maybe that would make his brain shut up.

Jungkook had been seeing someone before they’d enlisted, had broken it off because it hadn’t been that serious, anyway, and he hadn’t wanted to make her wait for him. Jimin didn’t really know. But they took vacations from the base now and then, they’d been home a few times. Anything could have happened. 

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s eyes were round and gentle. “A while.”

“Me, too,” Jimin answered, because he was kind of in the same boat. It had been a long time. He didn’t mind it, though, he didn’t mind. 

Tired boy blinking with doe eyes and pretty lips in the dark, cock tucked hard in his shorts from Jimin touching him. 

“Hyung?” Jungkook whispered. Gentle and trusting and loving and kind. His best friend. Jimin wondered if anyone else knew him as well after the last few years.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook moved a hand to fidget with the sheet beneath them, pinching it over and over and over again. “Nevermind.” 

“What?” Jimin asked. 

Jungkook laughed, a quiet breath, before inhaling deeply and shaking his head. Eyes focused on the sheet where he was playing with it, moving it over and over and over again. 

“Is there someone you could call?” Jimin asked. He could guess what Jungkook was thinking. 

Jungkook huffed. He was staring at the sheet between them, rolling fabric between his fingers and letting it go again. “Yeah, but I don’t want to.”

“You can go, if you want. We can meet up again later.” 

“Hyung.” Jungkook shook his head through another quiet laugh, smile sweet and still not looking at him. “I’m not doing that.”

“Okay,” Jimin whispered.

They both watched him ball the sheet up in a fist, letting go and petting it to smooth it out, back and forth. “Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know how to say it.”

“Say what?”

Jungkook groaned, laughing quietly as he buried his face in both hands and dragged them down his face. Groaned a second time.

“What?”

“I don’t want it with someone else, hyung.”

“Okay.” Jimin shrugged under the blanket. “We can just go to sleep, if you want. Or I could go wait for you in the living room, or something.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whined, giggles turning a little deranged, now. “Please.”

“What?”

“Would you maybe want to sleep together?”

“Yeah, we still can. We don’t have to, though.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook’s voice raised an octave, rushed and hedging on actual panic. “Would you maybe want to like, actually sleep with me?”

Jimin felt stupid repeating himself when Jungkook was clearly annoyed at him, and then he- oh.

Oh. 

Oh. 

Jimin held his eyes for a whole three seconds before all of the blood left his fucking head. 

No. No. No. Absolutely fucking not. They couldn’t. He couldn’t. Jungkook was horny and tired and Jimin was just the only person around. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything. Jungkook couldn’t even want him like that. He didn’t mean it. Because they could do it and then- And then what. And then it would be severely awkward for the rest of their lives, or something. Jimin could learn what it was like to want to rip his guts out every time he looked at him, forever. They couldn’t. They literally couldn’t. Jungkook didn’t mean it like that. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook smiled like an apology and reached up to poke Jimin right between the eyebrows. “What are you thinking?”

“Ha,” Jimin laughed, and he was way too fucking sober for this. 

But Jungkook waited. Jungkook fidgeted with the sheet, and waited, keeping his eyes on the fabric and biting at the rings between his lips. 

Jimin was going to throw up. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, hyung,” Jungkook mumbled, meeting his eyes for only a second. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Of course?” Jimin laughed, feeling absolutely out of his mind. “What do you mean, though?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook balled his hand in a fist and pressed the fist back and forth against the mattress. “I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t serious.”

Jimin just blinked at him, stomach flipping over five times before speaking. “You would actually want to?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook huffed. If there was more light in the room maybe Jimin would see pink on his cheeks. “I’d like to.”

“With me?”

Jungkook gave him a look like Jimin was being dense on purpose, and Jimin tried to be normal. 

“Sorry, I’m just-” Jimin searched for something to say. “We don’t have to do that.”

“I know we don’t, hyung, of course we don’t,” Jungkook said. “I want to, though. And not just- Fuck. Not just now, you know? Not just right now.” He looked like he was weighing something before saying it. “Like- I’d want to- whenever, hyung. I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“With me?”

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me,” Jungkook mumbled. Voice a little too fragile, a little too honest.  

“I’m not,” Jimin whispered. He felt like he’d been thrown in a freezer. “I just- I didn’t think you’d want that.”

“I do. I have.”

“For how long?”

“As long as I can remember, maybe,” Jungkook mumbled. Quiet like he was admitting something so, so precious. Hands fidgeting.

They weren’t like that, though. They were friends, they’d spent more time with each other than anyone. They’d just finished their enlistment, and traveled the world, and they loved each other, but not like that. Jungkook could have anyone. Literally anyone, and there was no reason to fuck up the whole band by doing something stupid. By giving into a tired impulse right when they were about to start working again. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Jimin mumbled.

“I know.” Jungkook smiled again. He reached up to play with Jimin’s hair like an instinct, dropped his hand back to the sheet. “I know. We don’t have to. I just felt like telling you, for some reason.”

“Jungkook-ah.” 

“I’m not even hard anymore, hyung.” Jungkook shrugged small. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Jimin opened his mouth and then closed it, because never in ten million years did he imagine it like this. He thought maybe, maybe, he’d get drunk one day in two decades, confess it to Jungkook like a joke after they’d lived more of their lives, when they were married with kids and the secret couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

“You’d really want that?” Jimin asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Jungkook looked like he was struggling not to run away, and Jimin reached out to brush his hair back from his forehead. “We don’t have to, though, hyung. It’s not like we have to do anything. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I’m worried it would make things weird,” Jimin answered honestly, the words like sticky syrup in his mouth. Jungkook was being so vulnerable with him. “Like it would- Like what if something goes wrong? What if things get messed up?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook agreed. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Being together?”

“Telling you,” Jungkook mumbled. “I think I’ve gotten tired of not telling you. I don’t think I feel that brave anymore, though.”

Jimin shrank into his pillow, something twisting in his belly. “I want it, too, Jungkook, I just don’t-”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean- I don’t know. Maybe not the same way. I don’t know if you- I don’t know. But- just- being with you, and stuff.”

“You’ve thought about it?”

“I try not to,” Jimin admitted. “I feel bad thinking about it. I didn’t think you would want it, too.”

“I’ve always wanted it,” Jungkook mumbled. “Since we were kids.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, hyung. Sorry if that’s weird. I was afraid of telling you.”

Jimin felt his walls coming down like an avalanche. “Just sex, and stuff?”

“More than that.” Jungkook looked small under the blanket. “Everything.”

Jimin sucked in a breath. Hand rising automatically to brush fingers against Jungkook’s temple. “Me, too,” he forced out. “I’m- I try not to think about it. I never want to think about it, because it doesn’t- You’re my best friend, Gguk-ah.” 

Jungkook’s eyes didn’t leave him. 

“I feel like I’m better when I’m with you. Like I’m more- myself, or something,” Jimin mumbled. “I try to ignore it, but it’s always there. I feel like I’m whole when I’m with you. I know we never really talk about it, but you feel like you’re part of me, or something. I think I’d lose my fucking mind without you. I don’t want to mess that up.”

Jungkook reached out to fiddle with the neckline of Jimin’s shirt, knuckles brushing his skin.

“I wouldn’t just want sex,” Jimin admitted. “I couldn’t do that and then just not-” he paused, shook his head. “I love you so much, Jungkook-ah. I love- just- I love you. I love this too much.” Jimin breathed in, and Jungkook’s eyes darted to Jimin’s mouth. “I don’t want to fuck it up, Jungkook-ah, I don’t want to do something we’d regret without- Fucking- I love you. I love being with you, I love talking to you, and-”

Jungkook propped himself up on an elbow so fast that Jimin didn’t even process it until Jimin was looking up at him, at Jungkook right in front of his face, Jungkook’s eyes scanning Jimin’s. Noses close enough that Jungkook let them brush together.

Holding Jimin’s eyes like he wouldn’t do anything without permission. 

Jimin gaped like a fish, brain a rushing waterfall, not sure what the everloving fuck was happening.

But Jungkook’s eyes were on Jimin’s, Jungkook’s eyes were on Jimin’s, and their noses were touching, and Jimin tilted his jaw up to meet his mouth.

Tidal waves smashed through his chest, ears buzzing, moving in slow motion before everything came into sudden, overwhelming focus.

Jimin was kissing Jungkook. Jimin was kissing Jungkook, their lips slotting together, gently and giving and soft pressure. Parting to kiss him again, and again, and again, wet and delicate and wanting, the rings in Jungkook’s lip reminding him it was him, fucking Jungkook, Jimin’s hand coming up to cup Jungkook’s cheek and hold him. Letting Jungkook’s arms guide him until Jimin was on his back, Jungkook propped on an elbow to kiss him. 

Jimin’s hands moved frantically to find his cheeks, to touch him, tracing the scar on the swell of his left cheek.

Jimin had never kissed anyone he’d known for this long.

He’d never loved anyone this much.

Fire burning molten like it was going to fucking drown him.

It was happening.

He didn’t know how, or why, but it was fucking happening, and he couldn’t stop it, now, it was happening. It was happening because Jungkook wanted it to happen, he had wanted it, too, almost two years together and all of the years before that. Jungkook had wanted this.

Talking until the sun came up, playing games just to laugh together, playing with each other’s hair, lying on Jungkook’s couch with his head on Jungkook’s thigh, Jungkook laughing hysterically while Jimin made dumb faces across the room, hugging with sweating hair when they’d stumbled off the stage. 

Jungkook had wanted it.

Jungkook was okay with the risk, no matter what happened. Jungkook was giving him everything, absolutely everything. 

Jimin made a whiny noise and Jungkook pulled up panting, fucking vulgar sounds, Jungkook not even pausing before leaning in to kiss beside Jimin’s mouth, over his cheek, down to his jaw, peppering kisses to his neck, his chin, his cheek again. Jimin laughed and kneaded at his chest, mind spinning, light like the air, wrapping arms around his neck and tugging him back into his mouth.

Jungkook wanted it, too. Jungkook who loved him in every way Jimin could imagine being loved by someone. Jungkook who rode a motorcycle, and jumped into canyons, and bungee jumped, who loved cooking and singing and drawing and smelled like home. Jungkook with tattoos down his arm and rings in his lip and delicate hands cupping Jimin’s cheeks, his jaw, trailing over his chest, his waist, holding him. Strong, strong, so fucking strong, touching Jimin like he was the only thing in the world, mouths moving fast and then slowly, like he was trying not to fucking eat him. 

It was happening. 

Jimin pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, tried to get his head to stop spinning, palms pushing into Jungkook’s shoulders to steady himself. 

“Are you really sure?” Jimin gasped without thinking, because he had to, he had to make sure. He shuddered at how wet his voice sounded. “I don’t want you to regret it.”

“Hyung, I’m not going to regret it,” Jungkook panted, shaking his head and letting his forehead fall onto Jimin’s chest. Jimin’s hands immediately tangled in his hair. “We’ll be okay, hyung. We’ll figure it out.” 

Jimin knew. They always did. They would talk it through if anything got weird, they would communicate. They had talked about almost everything in the world, except this one thing.

Jungkook’s nose was digging into Jimin’s chest, and Jimin wanted to be under him. 

“Okay,” Jimin whispered.

“Do you want this?”

“So much,” Jimin rasped. Hands petting Jungkook’s hair as he pulled away from Jimin’s chest to look at him, barely visible in the dark. “Want you.”

Jungkook whined breathy, something shifting in the air, understanding right away when Jimin tugged on his leg that he should throw a thigh over Jimin’s middle. Jungkook kneeled on either side of him, not sitting down properly until Jimin tugged him down, needing his weight on him. Firm weight on his thighs, pulling Jungkook to his mouth like he needed him to breathe.

Jungkook moved like he was desperate for it, like he hadn’t spent years feeling guilty for wanting him, mouths slotting together with whimpering breaths. Jimin’s hands fluttered over Jungkook’s face as every worry he’d ever had faded away, because Jungkook was kissing him, and whining, mouths slowing down, creeping molten, quiet noises, giving all of himself to Jimin like he always did.

Jungkook’s weight felt good. Sitting on Jimin’s thighs without playing or wrestling or cuddling. Actually fucking kissing him, learning the taste of his mouth, his tongue on his lips, tattooed hand palming into Jimin’s chest before feeling his ribs, his arms, the curve of Jimin’s waist. Holding him and holding him, whimpering into Jimin’s mouth, lips wet as they moved together. Whining when Jimin tucked fingers under Jungkook’s shirt to feel his stomach. 

Jungkook knew him.

Knew him better than anyone.

Knew how to cradle Jimin’s cheeks while his tongue licked into his mouth, knew when to slow down and let Jimin taste him. Knew to sit back down when Jimin whined because his weight had left Jimin’s lap, heavy and pretty and hot, so fucking hot, mouths moving like they were always meant to be together. Wet sounds whipping through Jimin’s chest like fire, cock growing hard, his crotch only about two inches from where Jungkook was sitting. 

Jimin pulled away panting, and Jungkook’s hands roamed Jimin’s stomach under his shirt, so Jimin did the same.

Feeling him, being felt by him. Toned and gorgeous and fit in the dark, every muscle perfect, the dip of his waist, the warmth of his back, Jungkook leaning in to kiss Jimin’s neck and making little noises against his skin. Mouthing over him, wet mouth, Jimin’s hands trailing to his ass to squeeze it, sliding down to Jungkook’s thighs.

It was like being in a dream, almost. But so much more real, tangible and panting and needing him, touching him wherever he wanted. Jungkook’s lips in the dip of Jimin’s collar bone and his hands on Jimin’s stomach.

“Do you actually want to have sex with me?” 

“Yes,” Jungkook scoffed, bunny smile kisses against Jimin’s neck. “Hyung.” 

“What do you want?”

“I don’t care,” Jungkook huffed, shaking his head and his hair tickled Jimin’s face. “Literally anything.”

“It’s been so fucking long,” Jimin rasped, because it had, feeling a little bit like tearing out of his skin. “Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook’s mouth was on Jimin’s neck again, suckling at him, gripping Jimin’s waist as all of his blood rushed endlessly to his cock. He couldn’t even get much harder, now, aching for him, the fabric stupidly tight. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” Jimin asked. “Or me to fuck you?”

“I’ve never been fucked before,” Jungkook whispered against his skin, goosebumps lifting everywhere. “I’ve never been with a guy, hyung.”

Jimin sucked in a breath and his hands gripped Jungkook’s thighs, arms circling around his back and hugging him.

“Ever?”

“No,” Jungkook murmured, kissing his neck. “I would’ve told you.”

They told each other a lot, but not everything. Jimin didn’t know. 

“Have you, hyung?” Jungkook asked quietly. 

“A couple times,” Jimin mumbled, brain like molten lava. “A while ago.”

Jungkook kissed up his neck to his ear, licking it into his mouth and suckling on it, and Jimin felt his hips kick up without trying to. 

“Do you want to fuck me, then?” Jimin asked.

“Sure, hyung.” Jimin could feel Jungkook smiling under his ear, teeth against his skin, kisses behind his ear. Literally nothing else mattered. “If you want me to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin hissed as it sank in, squeezing around his middle. “Yeah, I want you to.”

“I want you to fuck me, too, hyung,” Jungkook murmured, a hand running up and down Jimin’s stomach, up and down. “I want both.”

Jimin heard himself make a whimpery sound and pressed fingers into Jungkook’s back.

“This won’t be the last time, hyung. We can do anything.”

“Have you ever been fingered before?”

“No,” Jungkook whispered, chin tilting up to kiss Jimin’s jaw. “I’ve never tried it.”

“Even yourself?”

“No,” Jungkook shrugged a little. “I want to, though.”

“Fuck,” Jimin hissed, mind a swirling jumble of nothingness, hands searching for Jungkook’s cheeks and pulling him up to see his face. Jungkook was pretty even in the dark, so fucking handsome, letting Jimin tug him in to kiss his lips, again.

Slow, aching kisses. Feeling every movement, every exhale, Jungkook’s body still on top of him.

Not prepared for it at all when Jungkook scooted himself forward, just a few inches, purposefully letting their cocks brush together.

Jimin whined. 

Jungkook was just as hard as he was. Hips dipping to press into him again.

“Fuck,” Jimin whimpered. Literally about to explode, feeling Jungkook’s dick on him, feeling his dick on him. Hard and needing and letting his tongue lap into Jungkook’s mouth, skin on fire, feeling Jungkook twitch the slightest bit in his shorts and shuddering against the bed. 

“Do you want to fuck me, hyung?” Jungkook asked, so quietly. Lips brushing as he spoke, sinking further down against his crotch.

They were fully pressed together, now.

All of Jungkook’s weight on him.

Jimin needed to rip his fucking pants off. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Like, this time?”

Jimin’s mouth parted, processing it. “Really?”

“I want both, hyung. We could try both.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Jungkook giggled, hovering where Jimin could see him smiling. “If I don’t like it, we’ll just stop.”

“Fuck,” Jimin rasped, so desperate he could actually scream, trying to assure himself that he wasn’t actually still dreaming. “Fuck. Yes.”

“Yes,” Jungkook echoed through a laugh, kissing him again, taking Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth, pulling his hips back and sinking into him. Then again. Picking up a desperate, tiny rhythm, moving the slightest bit, rocking their cocks against each other.

Jimin exhaled through his nose hard, feeling it, fucking Jungkook rocking into him like that, burning pressure. So hard that even the tiniest touch felt like being electrocuted, shaking hands, gripping Jungkook’s waist, hands on his stomach. Stroking up to his chest, brushing his nipples, feeling Jungkook literally shudder in his hands. 

Jungkook didn’t stop rocking into him.

Over and over, grinding more intentionally, long strokes. Helping himself feel good against Jimin’s cock. It was so fucking intense after so fucking long, rocketing through him, sensation rippling out to his fingers and toes. He didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want to stop.  

“Do you have stuff?” Jungkook whispered into his mouth, and Jimin could barely even form thoughts, but he laughed when he realized what he meant.

“Yeah. I have stuff,” Jimin grinned, waving over to the black nightstand next to his bed. “Condoms and lube and stuff.”

Jungkook sat back on his heels and grinned, breathing in, separating them long enough for Jimin to form actual thoughts, and Jungkook shook out his arms like he was just as jittery.

Jimin decided that they had absolutely, outrageously too many clothes on. 

“Let me-” he started and Jungkook understood, letting Jimin climb out from under him.

Just before Jimin turned away Jungkook adjusted himself in his shorts, and Jimin actually shivered.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he crawled over to his bedside table, pulling out a box of tissues, a box of condoms, a bottle of lube, yelping when Jungkook spanked his ass.

Nothing would change, he realized. A warm sureness echoing through his chest, to his fingertips, spreading slowly.

Nothing would change. Not in a bad way.

They were still just Jimin and Jungkook. Loving each other through everything. Through all of their years. They would still be exactly the same. But now they could kiss each other if they wanted. Now they could hold each other without shoving feelings to that deep dark place he couldn’t think about. 

Jimin could love him how he wanted.

Could touch him how he wanted.

He tossed the pile behind him and crawled back over, not even sure where to start. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” he decided, grinning when Jungkook immediately fumbled to pull his own shirt off, up and over his arms, so much skin, already tugging at Jimin’s, too. Pulling it over Jimin’s head and tossing them both off the mattress, hands already at Jimin’s waistband.

They’d seen each other naked, they’d seen everything, Jimin had seen Jungkook before they’d even been to the military. He’d seen him even more, there.

But Jungkook had never undressed him. Quiet and loving and his. Had never tucked fingers into Jimin’s sweatpants and pulled them down, helping Jimin tug them over his legs.

Jimin had never tugged on Jungkook’s shorts, pulled them down over his thighs, down and off his ankles, trailing hands over his legs to feel soft hair. 

Jimin could hear him breathing as Jungkook fumbled for Jimin’s briefs, tucking fingers inside, waiting for Jimin’s nod before tugging them down slowly. They both watched as his cock was exposed, little by little, dark hair, bouncing a little when the fabric cleared his thighs.

Jimin pushed the fabric down off his own legs, cool air, and Jungkook laid down on a pillow as Jimin knelt over him. 

He savored it. Jungkook in his underwear, in his bed. Tattoos pretty and skin exposed.

Jimin raised a palm, slowly, and pressed gently, gently to Jungkook’s bulge.

Jungkook made a strangled noise, clearly not expecting it, jaw falling open as he watched Jimin’s hand.

He could feel all of him through the fabric. Jungkook was completely hard, longer than Jimin’s hand, straining, undoubtedly just as sensitive as Jimin was. Jimin was crawling out of his skin.

They both watched Jimin hook fingers into fabric, peeling it slowly, slowly down. 

He was even prettier hard than he was soft, revealed inch by inch, and Jimin was going to fucking cry.

“You’re pretty, baby,” Jimin whispered. 

Jungkook squirmed, making some quiet sound as his hands reached out to hold him, to touch Jimin anywhere, and Jimin leaned in to kiss his mouth. 

Gorgeous lips and gorgeous boy, metal rings against his mouth, hands searching Jimin’s back before Jimin pulled away. Backing up only so he could lie down between his legs, flat on his stomach, kissing the ridge of both of Jungkook’s hips as Jungkook made a whimpery sound again.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook whispered, frantic hands in Jimin’s hair. “Oh my god.”

Jimin grinned and kissed right above the base of him, right below his belly button, letting himself take what he wanted. Holding Jungkook’s ass with both hands, soft and giving, massaging the muscle. 

He let Jungkook feel his breath on his cock, watched it jump, and leaned in to kiss right at the base of the head. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook whined, squirming beneath him, hands grasping at his hair and his shoulders and everywhere. Watched Jimin kiss him again, and again, further down, making a line down the side of him, then licking from the base all the way to the tip. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook squeaked, wet warmth to his skin, lapping again, and again, and again, reaching the head and kissing him there. Letting his bottom lip drag against his skin, against where he was leaking, cradling his balls in one hand as he took the whole head into his mouth, and slid down.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Jungkook was gasping, legs moving to dig his heels into the bed, squeezing Jimin’s shoulders, pressing fingers into the back of his hair.

Jimin was flying. Exactly where he’d give anything to be, Jungkook’s cock as far as he could fit it into is mouth, filled with him, eyes closed to focus on it, pulling off a bit and sinking back down. Palming his balls, sucking in, squeezing at his ass and feeling his cock twitch up inside his mouth.

“It’s so much,” Jungkook whimpered, bare chest heaving breaths, tattoos on his arm barely visible in the dark. His hands pet over and over through Jimin’s hair. 

Jimin didn’t want to overwhelm him, didn’t want to go too fast, pulling off and kissing at his stomach. “Do you want me to try fingering you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook begged, whinier than Jimin even expected, hand scrambling out to find the lube and pulling it closer so Jimin could reach it. 

Jimin kissed warm at the base of his cock. “It feels kind of weird, just to warn you.”

“I figured.” Jungkook shook his head. “It’s okay. I still want it.”

Jimin nodded, sitting up on his heels and grabbing the lube, pouring a little into his fingers. He wanted it to be good for him. Wanted to help him feel something he’d never felt. 

“I showered this morning,” Jungkook remembered, eyes not leaving him.

“Me, too,” Jimin laughed. “Glad I did.”

Jungkook grinned, looking fucked out of his mind when they’d barely even started. Jimin waited as Jungkook got more comfortable, head in the pillow and feet flat on either side of where Jimin was kneeling, both watching Jimin lower a wet hand between his legs.

He held onto Jungkook’s knee with his other hand, kissed him there, thumb sweeping over his perineum before his fingers found his hole.

Soft. Fingers tucked to delicate skin, so gentle, steady heat. Jungkook’s chest rising and falling, eyes so wide, mouth parting as Jimin’s fingers ran back and forth, back and forth. Jimin let him get used to the feeling, wanted him as wet as he could be.

Just a few hours ago Jimin had been passed out asleep in this bed. Now he was brushing wet fingers over the most intimate part of him.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded. 

“Tell me if you want me to change anything,” Jimin asked.

Jungkook nodded again, a hand coming up to hold Jimin’s arm like a quiet promise he was okay, able to feel the muscles in Jimin’s arm move as he rubbed him back and forth. 

Jimin found the lube with his free hand and popped the lid again, pouring even more into his hand, needing to be absolutely sure.

And then he pressed slowly, so slowly, in with his ring finger.

Jungkook looked like he was holding his breath as Jimin pushed in, barely to the first knuckle, eyes not leaving Jungkook’s face.

“Breathe, baby.”

Jungkook exhaled and Jimin soothed a hand up and down his leg. “It feels weird at first.”

“It does feel weird,” Jungkook winced, and Jimin could tell he was panicking, a little. 

“It gets better,” Jimin promised. Pulled out to give Jungkook a break, watched his body ease up a little. “Try to relax as much as you can. I know it’s hard.”

“Okay,” Jungkook mumbled, hand still around Jimin’s wrist. 

Jimin soothed over his hole a few more times before pressing in again, this time with two fingers. Let him feel the stretch and pushed in.

He watched him feel it, focus on it, force his body to relax. Felt him flutter around Jimin’s fingers, pushing in further, pulling out again. Cock hard and still wet from his mouth, lying heavy in his lap. He was trying so, so hard, Jimin could tell. 

“You’re doing good, baby.”

“Thank you, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook joked, before shuddering, and Jimin gripped his knee. 

“I’m going to add another finger.”

Jungkook braced himself, and Jimin pet up and down his thigh until Jungkook relaxed a little. Pulled out almost all the way, added a third finger, pushed back in.

He watched it cross his face, the sensation, getting used to something being inside him when his body did not want it to be. It was unfamiliar, and weird, but it was Jimin, and Jimin knew what it felt like to be on the other end. Wanting it despite how strange it felt, adjusting to it. Fingers getting wider the farther he pushed them in, pulling out again, pushing in and wiggling a little. 

He let him adjust before tilting them upwards, feeling around for where he thought he’d find his prostate.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook hissed, both hands flying up to grip onto something, landing on Jimin’s arm, his shoulder, closing his eyes and lifting his back. Jimin rubbed into it, again, again, that ache deep inside him, giving him a sensation he’d never felt, Jungkook whimpering as Jimin pulled off. Pushed into it again.

“Okay?”

“Good,” Jungkook whimpered. Eyes opening to see him in the darkness, his stomach flexing and relaxing again. 

Jimin slid down onto his belly again, mouth pressing to the highest point of Jungkook’s thigh, sensitive skin, licking his thigh and then blowing on it, before kissing the base of his cock again.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, hands petting down Jimin’s head, down his neck, petting over the moons on his spine. “Yeah.”

Jimin opened his mouth and let his cock rest against his tongue, moving up, back down. Fingers rubbing against his spot over, and over, suckling the head back into his mouth, leaking even more than before. 

“Want you,” Jungkook breathed, voice husky and lips parted. “Fuck, hyung.”

“Is it okay?” 

“Yeah.” Jungkook scratched at Jimin’s scalp. “Want you to fuck me.”

Jimin hissed, whole body suddenly focused on where his own cock was pressed against the mattress, almost forgotten, closing his eyes as Jungkook brushed his cheek. 

“I want to try,” Jungkook asked, voice heavy. He started fumbling around for the box of condoms, ripping one away and tearing it open, not even giving Jimin a chance to overthink it. Jimin managed to keep his fingers inside him as he sat himself up, goosebumps flooding down his arms.

Jungkook was naked in his bed, holding out an unwrapped condom, fingers slick.

Jimin tried not to actually groan as he managed to roll it onto himself with one hand.

Jungkook’s eyes didn’t leave the hand around Jimin’s cock. Watched Jimin hold himself for a moment, watched the feeling ripple down to his thighs. Watched Jimin exhale what felt like all of the air from his lungs. 

“Fuck,” Jimin breathed.

Jungkook reached out to him, searching hands, holding onto Jimin’s waist and massaging him. “Yeah, hyung.”

Jimin had been so focused on making Jungkook feel good that it hadn’t even processed what was happening. Not really. Staring down at his cock wrapped in a condom, at Jungkook’s ass around Jimin’s fingers. Strong legs on either side of where Jimin was kneeling.

A few weeks ago they were still in the military, talking about all of the things they would do when they were finally out. He’d fallen asleep their last night thinking about how grateful he was to have Jungkook there with him through it all. 

Jimin slipped his fingers out of him, so carefully, reached for the box of tissues and wiped his hand as best as he could.

He found the lube and poured more onto his own cock, far more than he even thought they needed, scooting even closer until he could lift Jungkook up by the ass, angled them both until he was in a better position. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Jimin asked.

Jungkook nodded. 

Jimin circled himself in a palm and wondered how the fuck this was even happening. Stroked himself up and down, small sensation already so much, coating himself in lube, then tilting himself down until the tip brushed Jungkook’s ass. 

He watched Jungkook’s face, nervous and overwhelmed, holding himself in one hand as he angled himself forward, forward, until he pushed inside the tiniest bit. Just barely. Watched Jungkook’s expression as he pushed a little, little more, until the head was fully inside, watched his stomach heave up and down as he breathed through it. 

Jungkook found Jimin’s legs and squeezed him, nodding again. 

Jimin pushed in a little further. A little more, watching him. Easier now that the head was in. Feeling the way his hands fluttered on his legs, his ass squeezing around him. Burying himself until he was all the way inside. 

Squeezing heat. Tight, tight pressure, surrounded by him, overwhelming feeling as he held himself still and breathed through it. He hadn’t fucked someone in so long. So, so fucking long. And he was inside of Jungkook, his fucking best friend, forcing himself to try to breathe normally. To brace himself as he pulled out again. Slowly, slowly, hearing himself whimpering, then pushing back in.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispered, and he was panting. Squeezing Jimin’s thighs and watching him. 

“Are you okay?” Jimin forced out.

“Hyung, you’re so hot.” Jungkook’s jaw was hung slack, chest toned and rising up and down. “You’re so good.”

“Fuck,” Jimin hissed, because Jimin was inside of him. Jungkook had told him he was hot before, but now he was inside of him. Every single time he’d ever said it rushing back. He’d fucking meant it. “You’re okay, though?”

“Yeah.”

Jimin still wasn’t used to him looking like that, wasn’t used to tight pressure around his cock, the heat overwhelming. Wasn’t used to Jungkook wanting him. 

Jimin felt his own cock pulse inside him and actually groaned, sliding himself out again, back in. Out and back in. Trusted Jungkook would tell him if something wasn’t okay, picking up a slow rhythm. Letting Jungkook feel it for the first time. Being fucked. Feeling Jungkook’s ass around himself. Remembering what it felt like to be opened up, fucking into him, again, and again, and again. Jungkook’s eyes shining as he reacted to the rhythm, moving faster, a little faster.

Jimin didn’t want to do too much. Didn’t want to risk hurting him, but it felt so, so fucking good. He felt like he was going to fall apart, his whole body, like a ball of string unraveling, it was so hard to hold himself back. Hands gripping Jungkook’s waist and using his hold on him to keep himself steady. 

“God,” Jimin grunted. 

“Faster, hyung,” Jungkook asked, hands coming up to Jimin’s chest, soothing over him.

Jimin felt himself break.

He pumped faster, and faster. Pulling out and fucking him, the sound of their skin, hips kicking steady as he built a rhythm, fast enough that it finally, finally felt like enough. The sounds they were making, the fucking sounds, Jungkook whimpering with every stroke, cock on fire, sweat on his back, fucking, and fucking, and fucking him. 

Jungkook’s mouth was open, cock jostling with each push, grabbing at Jimin’s muscles, wherever he could reach. Digging nails into his thighs, pretty legs around him, moaning through every beat. 

Jimin was aching. It had been too long, too fucking long, and he’d never in a million fucking years imagined this. Fucking him, thighs moving faster, even faster, gasping, hands loosening on Jungkook’s waist so he wouldn’t actually hurt him. He let his hands feel Jungkook’s ribs, his chest, so beautiful, tattoos on his skin, pretty nipples, and Jimin tried his best to keep his pace as he leaned down to suck one into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook gasped, hands flying up to the back of Jimin’s head. Holding him, bodies finally close enough to wrap around Jimin’s back again, entire body moving as Jimin fucked into him. He was beautiful. Bodies tangled together, tongue on his nipple, soaked with sweat, gorgeous and wet and breathing heavy in Jimin’s ear. He knew Jungkook’s cock was aching between them, untouched, lips to Jimin’s forehead, tangling fingers in his hair. 

“Fuck.” Jimin kissed his cheek, felt nails in his back, fucking and fucking and fucking him.

Jungkook was whimpering, lips on his temple, and Jimin turned to meet his mouth.

Desperate, desperate kisses, open-mouthed, barely making contact, Jungkook’s entire chest vibrating as he moaned. 

“It’s- good,” Jungkook forced out between strokes, body loose like jelly, lips wet against Jimin’s cheek as Jimin realized he was going to fucking come. 

It was too early.

They had so much more to go.

He wanted to slow down but he couldn’t force himself, he couldn’t, not with Jungkook moaning against his face, in a trance, digging his hands into Jimin’s back.

Jimin forced himself to keep going, keep going, keep going.

Cock raging like burning fire, the pace so fast he could feel himself tipping over the edge, speed stuttering, opening his mouth to tell him it was coming before Jungkook was whining like he’d never even heard him before.

Shuddering, whining, lapping into Jimin’s mouth, cupping Jimin’s neck and holding them together.

“I’m gonna come,” Jungkook whispered, and Jimin felt himself pulse again, Jungkook’s body moving with the pillow, whimpering wet against his cheek, and Jimin looked down between them.

Jungkook was rock hard, harder than Jimin had ever been when he’d been fucked, beautiful, beautiful, bouncing with every stroke as Jimin made a sound like he was crying into his shoulder.

Fucking and fucking and fucking him.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whined, groaning, hands gripping onto his back and squeezing him, holding him, whining loud before Jungkook was fucking coming. He was coming, ass squeezing Jimin’s cock in strong pulses, hot come hitting Jimin’s stomach, and Jimin was still fucking him, still fucking him, Jungkook whimpering in his ear, wet sounds overwhelming.

Jimin was so close, so close he could cry, still fucking him, feeling Jungkook flutter around him, squeezing him, pressing their foreheads together and growling. 

Jungkook hugged around his back as his body went limp, kissing all over Jimin’s cheek.

“Come, hyung.” 

“Fuck,” Jimin yelped, pounding into him a few times more before he was exploding, pulsing hard, harder than he could even remember, so many emotions bursting like a dam breaking, not even aware of the noises he was making as he swore into Jungkook’s shoulder. Heat filled his condom, aching pulses, breathing like he was going to pass out as he gave one last push before falling into Jungkook’s chest.

“I love you,” Jungkook said in a rush, like it was the only thing in his head, kissing his cheek until Jimin turned and smashed their mouths together.

Kissing him hard, and desperate, sweating and brain buzzing.

“Oh my god.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook giggled, laughing breathy, hands roaming all over Jimin’s chest, over the tattoo on his ribs, the sweat on his stomach. “Wow.”

“Was it okay?” Jimin checked, still inside of him, Jungkook’s come warm on his stomach. Realizing it was all over Jungkook’s stomach, too.

“Um, yeah,” Jungkook snorted, grinning and peppering kisses to his temple. “Fuck, hyung.”

Jimin let himself melt against Jungkook’s chest, relaxing into him, arms wrapped around his torso and melting like a giant blob. His cock was already wilting but he didn’t care, didn’t want to move. 

“Holy shit,” Jungkook huffed, hands scratching lightly up and down his back, all of Jimin’s skin sensitive.

“I love you,” Jimin whispered, finding Jungkook’s shoulder and kissing it for a moment. Warm like a blanket under him. “Fuck, Jungkook.”

He could feel Jungkook’s giggle, always bright, squeezing a hug around Jimin’s back before Jimin finally, finally sat up, pulled his soft cock from him, looked at how absolutely covered in come they both were.

“Wow.” Jungkook grinned, and Jimin laughed as he reached for tissues, wiping Jungkook up before himself, Jungkook’s stomach and chest and between his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“I love it, don’t apologize,” Jimin promised. He pulled his condom off and wiped himself clean, wiped his stomach, tossed everything into the trash can. It felt like he’d entered a new world, some parallel universe where he’d just fucked his best friend.

When he’d finished cleaning he collapsed onto a pillow again, heart still beating funny, still warm like they’d been in the sun for hours. 

He found Jungkook’s hand on the sheet between them, playing with his fingers for a while. Quiet breathing. 

“It was way better than I expected, honestly,” Jungkook said after a while. “Bottoming, not being with you.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know what I expected. I was kind of nervous.” 

Jimin turned to look at him. “It was good, though?”

“Really good.” Jungkook played with Jimin’s fingers. “I still like topping more, though.”

“Me, too.”

“We can trade.” Jungkook patted his hand, and Jimin laughed.

It still hadn’t sunk in. That this wasn’t the only time. That they were… This, now. That they were going to do this again. That this wasn’t the end. 

“Sorry. You were going to fuck me, too.”

“I still will,” Jungkook insisted, fingers tapping at Jimin’s hand. “Give me a minute.”

Jimin laughed, squeezing Jungkook’s palm.

They laid still for a while, fingers playing together, catching their breath and letting their hearts beat back to normal. Naked and exhausted. Warm bodies and skin soft. 

Jimin was worried he’d pass out before they could even do anything more, although he wouldn’t mind that, propping himself up and smacking lightly at Jungkook’s chest. “Are you ready?”

Jungkook’s hand shot up to catch Jimin’s wrist before he could smack him again, laughing and reaching out to grab his other arm, too. “I can’t get hard again that fast.”

“‘Every hour, every minute, every second,’ Jungkook-ssi.”

Jungkook smacked Jimin this time, the crack to his bicep echoing through the room, and Jimin giggled as he threw himself onto Jungkook’s chest. Buried himself against his skin, giggling together, feeling Jungkook’s hands roaming over his skin. 

Naked boy underneath him. Fit and pretty and his.

Jimin ended up with his head on Jungkook’s chest, laying horizontal, scratching up and down Jungkook’s arm. 

“I never thought this could happen,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t think it would,” Jungkook agreed, fingers playing with the hair behind Jimin’s ear. “I hoped so, though. I imagined it so many times.”

“That’s crazy,” Jimin mumbled, and it rippled through him like waves. How happy he was. “I’ve always been so scared it couldn’t work out, or that it would mess up our friendship, or something.”

“I like you so much, hyung,” Jungkook huffed. “And we’ve known each other so long. I was terrified, but I always wanted this. Even if you didn’t feel the same.”

Jimin looked at him, tried to imagine a world where he didn’t feel pulled to Jungkook like a magnet. “You’re braver than me.”

Jungkook huffed. “Not really.”

“You are. You can’t even argue that.”

“But at least you’re old and wise, hyung,” Jungkook cooed, and Jimin pinched him in the meat of his waist where he knew it would tickle, giggling when he jumped.

They let minutes pass, Jimin scratching nails up and down Jungkook’s arm while Jungkook fiddled with Jimin’s hair. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook finally breathed, fiddling with the curve of Jimin’s ear. “I wanna make you feel good.”

Jimin felt his heart stop, beating to life again in his ears. Turned to look at him. Jungkook was fidgeting with Jimin’s ear, eyes scanning his face. 

“Wanna touch you, hyung.”

“Jesus.”

Jimin gaped at him, one thousand things racing through his mind, moving easy like dough when Jungkook rolled Jimin onto his back, adjusted the pillow beneath his head to make sure he was comfortable. 

Jungkook’s lips found Jimin’s mouth before anywhere else, kissing him, then pulling back to let their noses brush. Jimin breathed him in, watched Jungkook sit up to search for something in the sheets.

He came back with the lube, palm on Jimin’s calf, trailing up to his knee. Squeezed him there before uncapping it. 

Jimin realized with a jolt that Jungkook hadn’t actually touched him yet.

Maybe Jungkook was thinking it, too, because he poured lube into his palm as he sat back on his heels.

Let it drip from his palm onto Jimin’s balls.

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin hissed, lifting his head off the pillow to watch him, the grin on Jungkook’s face as shuffled himself down to his belly, echoing how Jimin had been before, kissing right where Jimin’s leg met his hip. 

His dry palm came up to feel Jimin’s stomach, gliding down until he circled Jimin’s soft cock in one hand. 

“Fuck, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin yelped, hands balling up the sheets before reaching out to hold him, his arms and the back of his hand. Jimin’s cock was still soft but Jungkook was cradling it, squeezing gently, massaging him.

Jimin just watched him. Eyes wide and staring in the dark, at Jungkook playing with him, so carefully. Jimin knew it was probably his first time touching another person’s dick, and he was moving like he was memorizing him with his hand. 

His other hand lifted slick with lube to Jimin’s balls, cupping them, and Jimin tried not to buckle in half. 

He was so sensitive, but it was so good, both of his hands moving on him, Jungkook twisting his wrist as he pulled up on him, and back down. Touching him gently, cupping his tip, enveloping him entirely with one hand. Palm massaging his balls in the other hand, dripping wet, distracting Jimin enough with both hands that he didn’t expect Jungkook to lift the head of his cock into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Jimin yelped. He felt his back arch and fumbled to hold him, gentle fingers soothing over his stomach, burying him all the way and sucking in like a vacuum. Tongue the greatest thing in the world, swiping back and forth, everything wet, and Jimin was dizzy again.

He forced himself to breathe, realizing he must taste like condom and come, but Jungkook apparently didn’t care. Mouth sucking in and letting go, sucking in again, the suction making Jimin’s toes curl as Jungkook palmed his balls. Fucking good. 

“Holy shit,” Jimin whined. Could actually feel Jungkook smile around him, wet palm so fucking big around his balls, rough and gentle. 

Jungkook pulled up just enough to speak. “Is it too much?”

“I’m so sensitive,” Jimin panted. “But it’s good.”

Jimin smiled against the length of him and Jimin was definitely getting hard, now, plumping a little, and Jungkook buried him in his mouth again. 

He loved him so much. Loved him after more than a decade spent together. Feelings overflowing from his chest like they could drown him, Jungkook’s tongue swiping over his cock as he held him inside.

Pretty mouth, pretty lips, metal rings and eyes closed, letting the hand on his balls drop down to stroke underneath them, down to brush over his hole. 

“Oh my god,” Jimin whispered.

Jungkook felt him like he wanted to remember it, pulling up from his cock so he could find the lube again. He poured even more into his hand, tossed it aside, stroked gently at Jimin’s hole and felt him shudder.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” Jimin huffed. 

Jimin had done this before, but it had been a long time for him, too. Grateful that Jungkook was feeling him gently, trusting him with everything. Every fiber of his being focused on where Jungkook was touching him, warm fingers, stroking back and forth. 

He loved him.

Jungkook circled his cock properly, thumb brushing the head, dipping into his slit.

Pressing the tip of a finger into his hole at the exact same time. 

Jimin sucked in a breath, and exhaled. Tried to relax. Realized Jungkook was probably copying what Jimin had done for him, was trying his best to make him feel good.

Jimin’s mouth parted as Jungkook pushed in a little more, pulled out, squeezed his dick with his other hand. Finger slick as he glided inside, pulled out again, and Jimin pet over his hair. 

“You can do another, it’s okay,” Jimin asked.

Jungkook added one more, pushed back in, spread him apart with his fingers.

It felt so, so fucking intimate. So fucking real, his entire body zeroed in on that feeling, letting Jungkook push inside him. He spread his fingers out again, felt Jimin stretch, added a third finger.

Jungkook’s lips pressed kisses to Jimin’s head, burying him inside his mouth again now that he was almost fully hard.

“You’re so good, Gguk-ah,” Jimin babbled, the world moving slowly. Tongue pressing just under his head, moving back and forth, fingers pulling out so he could push in a fourth. Jimin’s back arched again, squirming with it, mouth sucking in around his cock and sending little pulses down his thighs. He was aching. 

Jungkook pulled off to breathe, quiet panting, before taking him back in as deep as he could go. Always trying his hardest. Fingers curling until he found a spot that made Jimin groan. 

“Fuuuck,” Jimin whined, feeling Jungkook chuckle around him, rubbing him like Jimin had done, trying to make him feel good. 

Jimin hadn’t felt this in so long. Hadn’t fingered himself in ages, hadn’t even had the chance, hadn’t been with someone else like this for even longer. Groaning breaths as Jungkook massaged him there, suckling on his head, swiping his thumb back and forth under his balls.

Jimin lifted his head so he could look down at him, Jungkook’s eyes half-closed and savoring it, and Jimin noticed Jungkook was already hard, too. Cock hanging heavy and turned on just from touching him, falling back into the pillow and taking in a breath.

“Baby,” Jimin murmured, fidgety and desperate. “Can you fuck me now?”

Jungkook pulled up and looked up at him, eyes hazy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jimin whined, squirming, goosebumps rushing down his legs and imagining it. He pushed a hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook exhaled.

Jungkook was used to this part, Jimin realized. At least used to the basics, watching him pull fingers out gently and fumble around for the condoms, somehow now at the other end of the bed. He crawled back over and wiped his hand on a tissue. 

Jungkook ripped open a condom and fumbled with it, squeezing his own dick a few times before rolling it onto himself, and Jimin noticed his hands were shaking.

“You okay?”

Jungkook grinned, laughed a little, getting it all the way on. Hard and perfect. “I want this so badly.”

“Fuck.”

“I want you,” Jungkook groaned, crawling over his body so he could press their foreheads together.

The position was so familiar, because he’d done it so many times. But not like this. Kisses to Jimin’s cheek before kissing his mouth, holding it there, pulling apart and slotting lips together again. “I’m so happy.”

“Fuck, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin hissed, holding Jungkook’s waist. Squeezing him. He wrapped hands around his ass, cupping it, massaging it. “Please?”

“Fuck.” Jungkook almost growled, finding the lube without pulling away and pouring it in his hand, reaching down to slick it over himself, pouring even more over Jimin’s hole.

Jungkook sat back on his heels and pulled Jimin closer by his legs, and Jimin felt that want. Butterflies through his belly. He liked it when Jungkook took control. Liked it when he took whatever he wanted. Liked it when he pushed Jimin around. 

Loved watching him circle himself and stroke it through the condom, up and down, fucking sexy, dipping fingers back to Jimin’s ass before lining himself up. 

Jimin couldn’t even think before Jungkook was pressing himself up and down Jimin’s ass, between his cheeks, everything dripping, before finding his hole and pushing slowly, slowly in.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jimin hissed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Jungkook was so much thicker than his fingers.

Gliding in like he was meant to be there, going all the way to his pelvis in one slow stroke, holding himself there. Big hands gripping Jimin’s thighs, deep inside him, palms sliding down to Jimin’s ass and holding him there. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook rasped, taking deep breaths and looking down at where their bodies met. 

“Good?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jungkook whined, watching himself pull out halfway, push in again. Tight pressure, everything hot, buried inside him after years without feeling it. Jimin knew exactly how he felt, because he’d literally just felt it. Stars behind his eyelids, electricity, too, too fucking good.

He knew Jungkook could feel Jimin’s ass trying to relax around him.

There was nothing else like it. Being inside someone. Surrounded by them. Pressure that ached and ached and ached and begged you to fucking move, to push into them, be consumed by them, tangled together and so alive. 

He could tell Jungkook was struggling to hold still, to make sure Jimin was okay, to soak it in, and god, Jimin wanted it. Wanted Jungkook to fuck him.

Jimin snaked a hand down to cradle Jungkook’s balls between them, heard Jungkook whimper, felt him pull himself out to push back in.

“I have to go slow, I’m freaking out,” Jungkook mumbled, hands roaming Jimin’s thighs.

“It’s okay.” 

“I’m already so close.” 

Jimin let go of his balls and felt his stomach. “Just from being in me, baby?” 

“God. Yes,” Jungkook whimpered, trying to pull out a little and push in again. “You’re so fucking hot, hyung.”

Jimin felt goosebumps down his arms, shivering, spread his legs even wider and felt every centimeter of him as Jungkook pulled out. Pushed back in. Changed his angle a bit and pulled out, pushed in. Attempted a slow rhythm before pausing again to breathe, then suddenly looking determined before he pushed back in again.

“I’m not going to last, but I want to fuck you, hyung.”

Jimin didn’t know even what that meant until it was happening, Jungkook picking up a rhythm.

Fucking him.

Faster, faster, steady pressure, even faster, every single stroke as deep as he could go.

Jimin’s mouth fell open. He was whining, watching Jungkook fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.

Slapping sounds, pounding, hands strong on his legs, aching with it.

Jimin’s hands scattered down to the blankets, spasming, gripping them, and Jungkook make whimpering noises with every push. Fucking him like he’d waited, and waited for this, fucking him hard, burning in Jimin’s core and brain dizzy. Moving like he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Jimin could see the sensation all over his face, fucking desperate, pumping, breathing heavy and needing him, palms gripping Jimin’s ass, groaning, fucking and fucking and fucking him. Jimin heard himself panting, breathing so hard he couldn’t kiss Jungkook if he tried, it was so much, so much, cock pulsing where it jostled in his lap. 

“I’m so close,” Jungkook whispered.

“Baby.”

Jungkook gripped him even tighter, strokes going scattered, losing speed, whimpering like he was going to cry, trying and trying for him.

There was a puddle of sweat under Jimin’s back and Jungkook’s hands were on his thighs, gripping him, collapsing down over him so he could kiss Jimin again. Broken, open-mouth kisses, barely making contact, hips moving even faster before slowing again, pulsing and pulsing and suddenly coming. 

Jungkook moaned like it came from the depths of his core, loud, entire body twitching, slamming himself into Jimin all the way. Jimin could feel Jungkook’s cock pulsing, coming, hands roaming all over Jungkook’s back, wishing he could be even closer than he already was. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook squeaked when he could breathe again, Jimin’s lips pressing over and over to Jungkook’s cheek.

Jungkook turned to find Jimin’s mouth immediately, kissing him hard and desperate and loving.

“Sorry, hyung.”

“Don’t be,” Jimin snorted. “Holy fuck.”

“’m too sensitive,” Jungkook huffed, collapsing into Jimin’s shoulder, body still twitching as Jimin pet up and down his back. 

“This isn’t the last time,” Jimin reminded himself as much as Jungkook. 

Jungkook huffed a quiet laugh like he was suddenly so sleepy, smiling in the dip of his shoulder, before sucking the skin there into his mouth. Not enough to leave a mark, just enough for Jimin to feel it, desperate boy needing to suck on something.

They laid until their hearts calmed down, and Jimin genuinely didn’t expect it when Jungkook finally slipped his cock out and climbed back off of him. Crawled back down between his legs, and sucked Jimin’s dick back into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Jimin yelped, sweet pressure, not even fully hard anymore, Jungkook’s tongue sliding all over the base of him. Pulling up, tasting every inch, sinking back down. 

Jungkook was whining, not even the one being touched, letting spit pool in his mouth and holding him there, before sliding back up, and back down. 

A second later his fingers were gliding over Jimin’s hole again, like he was making sure he was still wet enough, and then he pushed two fingers inside. 

Overwhelming after everything, so sensitive, tattooed fingers finding his spot. Making sure he wasn’t empty. Eyes meeting Jimin’s before closing his eyes and melting with him. Suckling and mouthing at him, pulling up and licking the head, sinking back down and swiping his tongue over him. 

Jimin was going to cry.

It was all so much, so fucking much, just as sensitive as Jungkook had been, gripping Jungkook’s hair and pulling a little. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jimin’s heels dug into the bed, hands making little fists over and over, his whole body shaking, Jungkook sucking like a vacuum around him. Making him feel how Jungkook must like to feel. Pulling up to swallow his spit before Jimin was going to come. 

“I’m insanely fucking close, Gguk-ah,” he whimpered, watched Jungkook smile before he sank back down again, fingers stroking his spot, Jimin’s hands gripping Jungkook’s hair as a warning, because he was so close, so close, tugging hard enough to hurt him because he was-

Jungkook pulled off literally one second before Jimin was coming, burning and burning and aching, writhing against the sheets, gasping for air, almost nothing coming out, so, so, so good. 

It took him a full two minutes to breathe normally again, but Jungkook’s fingers weren’t leaving his ass, soothing him gently, watching his eyes as he suckled his stomach above Jimin’s cock. Kissing him there over and over. 

And it wouldn’t be the last time.

They could do this again, whenever they wanted. 

He wanted everything. Literally everything.

Wanted to cuddle him to sleep and wake up next to him. To learn how to make food so he could cook for Jungkook, too. He wanted to hold his hands and play with his hair and kiss him whenever he wanted. Wanted to keep traveling the world and performing next to him and grow into old men together.

Jimin watched Jungkook press a kiss to his pelvis before pulling off his own condom, tossing it in the trash, wiping himself off, giggling at Jimin’s grabby hands as he tugged him down into a hug.

Jungkook pressed himself as close to Jimin as they could be, and Jimin pressed gentle lips to Jungkook’s cheek.

“Love you, Jungkook-ah.”

“I love you, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook laughed, breathy and light like sunshine. 

Notes:

I’m baaaaack :)

I've been so busy but I've been wanting to write for so long!! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!!

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