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“So?” Namjoon asked, looking up from his drink as Yoongi slipped onto the stool beside him. He was already a couple drinks in, if the flush on his cheeks was anything to go by. It would explain why he was so brazenly looking around the bar before he’d spotted Yoongi.
Alcohol makes me horny, he’d told him one random night in college, laughing when Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes with accusations of TMI. A sober Namjoon was far more composed, so Yoongi didn’t go out drinking with him often.
“So, nothing,” the older grunted, nodding to motion the waiter over. “I'm still divorced, if that’s what you’re asking,” He smiled at the petite lady behind the bar once she was within earshot, looking away once they locked eyes. She was gorgeous in a way that left him strangely breathless, and Yoongi could never hold eye contact with good-looking people. “I'll have what he’s having.”
She nodded with a smile, turning away from them. “Coming right up,”
He turned back to Namjoon and his smile fell, “I moved the last of my stuff at one, we’re splitting the account on Monday and she’s keeping the house,”
Namjoon’s eyebrows raised behind his glass and he blinked, “the whole house?” like there was a possibility he kept half the house in their divorce.
Yoongi nodded, “yes, the whole house,” he shrugged, “I don’t need a house, anyway, I have my apartment,”
“Yoongi,”
“She can keep the house,” He insisted, “I wouldn’t want to take care of a house and-“ he nodded politely at the bartender when she placed his drink down. He took a long sip, bitter taste of rum and coke burning its way down his throat. He’d forgotten that Namjoon liked this place because they were generous with their liquor. “Plus, I feel guilty enough as it is. I wouldn’t be able to live in there without getting ‘haunted’ by all our memories.”
“And you think she would? She’s gonna sell that house,”
Yoongi hummed sagely and shrugged once he’d settled on his answer, “she can sell the house.”
“Okay,” Namjoon held his tongue, keeping himself from reminding Yoongi that constantly punishing himself wouldn’t do anything but make him miserable. He shook his head, “so, what now?”
“What do you mean ‘what now?’” Yoongi snorted, pointing his glass at him. “I just told you,”
Namjoon was shaking his head before he could even finish, “I'm not talking about your divorce,” he kissed his teeth, “you're now single, lonely and very gay-“
“I’m not very gay-“
“Debatable,” Namjoon pointed, “but the point is, your playing field has completely changed. You should go out there and familiarize yourself,”
Yoongi straightened, looking around them in confusion. He laughed, “What? Right now?”
“I mean,” he lifted his hands to ask why not, “no better time than the present,”
“Namjoon, I can’t just-” he cut himself off with an awkward laugh, gesturing around them in a flurry of arms, “not right now. I just finalized my divorce a few hours ago.”
The younger’s face told him that he wasn’t hearing him out, eyes drooped in a bored stare. “What was the point of this whole divorce if you're not even gonna put yourself out there?”
“I never said never,”
“Yeah, sure,” Namjoon scoffed, nodding and rolling his eyes, “you’d avoid it for the rest of your life if you could.”
The bartender placed her hand on the bar suddenly, acrylic nails clinking against their glasses to get their attention. She asked if they’d like refills with a warm smile on her face. Yoongi wasn’t sure what the look was for, but he could only assume some sort of camaraderie when she slid him an extra shot with their whiskey. On the house, she’d said, good luck.
“I say, down that shot, go to the dance floor and find someone to take home,”
He scoffed a nervous laugh, “I can't do that. Come on,”
“You did it all the time in college,”
Yoongi nodded, “yes, because I was twenty-one and a dunce without a care in the world. I'm an adult now.”
“People are supposed to gain confidence as they grow older,”
“I'm not lacking in confidence, I'm just more rational,”
A squawk that was way too loud for a grown man to make had Yoongi groaning in embarrassment and their bartender laughing, “you’re chicken if I've ever seen one,”
“Real mature, man,”
Namjoon braced both hands on his shoulders and shook, spinning them around to look at the dance floor. “Yoongi, you're thirty-three and you just realized you were into men six months ago,” he gave his left shoulder a squeeze, “you’ve never been with a man and I'm worried that you’re never going to be with one.” They held eye contact for a moment, long enough for him to see that Namjoon was being sincere, “This divorce can’t be for nothing, man. You owe it to yourself to make the most of this.”
“Picking up guys at the bar is making the most of it?”
“Unironically?” Namjoon asked, “yes,”
Yoongi couldn’t see her, but he could imagine the bartender’s eyes on him, curious browns also waiting for his next move because she was invested. She was gorgeous in his eyes, with long brown hair, round cheeks and lashes that fanned her face when she blinked. She was gorgeous in a way that would have had him tripping over his feet to talk to her, had he been a couple years younger. Now, he sat in front of her unaffected; because somewhere, somehow, over the past ten years he’d inadvertently become a different man. A gay man.
He looked at Namjoon and sighed, because he was right. Why had he done any of this? Why had he stayed up for nights on end listening to the only woman he’d ever loved sob her eyes out in their bathroom? Why'd he tell her? “Okay,” he gave in once he couldn't stand to question anything anymore, “I- okay.”
“You’ll give it a shot?”
“Only because you made me feel like shit,” Yoongi grumbled, halving his drink in one gulp and glaring at his friend. His smile was the kind that made you think everything was going to be a-fucking-okay. Freshly divorced Yoongi had relied on that smile a couple of times.
“Attaboy,” Namjoon cheered, giving him a rough pat on the back. He nudged him with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I'll even pick someone out for you, I know your type well,”
Yoongi snorted, “you sure you don't want to just take them home with me?” he asked, tone sardonic. “We could all get to know each other,”
“The getting together is all you, my friend,” Namjoon mumbled as he scoured the crowd with his eyes. He whistled low when they landed on something- someone. “Oh, he’s perfect,”
The older perked up instantly, curiosity getting the better of him despite his feigned disinterest. He dragged his palms on his thighs –how were they already sweaty?- and craned his neck, “Who? Where?”
“Blonde hair, with the nice ass, 2 o’clock… you see the friend group of four?” he moved Yoongi’s head to try and steer him in the right direction. “He’s looking away now but he was pretty. Your type of pretty too.”
“I don’t-“ Yoongi droned on when his eyes locked in on him, immediately knowing who Namjoon was talking about because, fuck, yes, he did know his type well. “Oh...fuck,”
“Fuck is correct,”
Yoongi looked from him to the pretty blonde doubling over with laughter, a glass of something pink in his hands. He turned slightly and Yoongi could see his face, frowning because pretty didn’t quite begin to describe him. Yoongi cleared his throat, “he looks younger,”
“Everyone here is younger, man, we’re by the university,”
“I don’t know…”
“The worst that could happen is he says ‘no,’” Namjoon shrugged, “You’re just asking to buy him a drink. If it falls through, no big deal, we find someone else.”
Or he thinks I'm some creep and throws his drink down my shirt, Yoongi thought as his eyes tracked the man across the dance floor. That probably wouldn’t happen but, still. He cursed and rolled his eyes; he couldn’t help but be annoyed at how right Namjoon was being today. “Fine,” he cursed, throwing his shot back and reaching for his whiskey glass, “if I make a fool of myself, no big deal, I'll just never show up here again.”
Namjoon hollered with his hands around his mouth, not too loudly since Yoongi was right there. “Go get ‘em tiger,”
“Fuck off,”
Yoongi adjusted his trousers and strolled through the slightly crowded space, pulling his shoulders back in a show of false confidence and bravado. He reminded himself, mentally, that younger him was doing this every weekend until he found his wife. He was older now, sure, but he liked to believe he was still as attractive and charming. If not, he hoped he was at least as funny.
He stopped just before the blonde and swallowed, the man’s friends noticing his appearance first with wary eyes. When he noticed his friends grow quiet, the blonde turned as well, startling slightly as he looked at Yoongi properly. They were practically the same height, spare the two -or three- centimetres Yoongi had managed to pull on him. He was even more gorgeous up close, cute even as his face contorted in confusion. “Oh,” he tried, “um… hi?”
“Hi,” Yoongi smiled, “I hope it’s not too forward to ask to talk to you?”
The blonde chuckled lightly and looked at his friends, “right now?”
“If you and your friends don’t mind,” he smiled, because that was charming, right? He looked at the people surrounding them, “I'll have him back to you in a moment,”
“We don’t mind,”
“Hoseok, Jesus,” blondie fixed his friend with a look and turned to Yoongi, “as long as you can make it quick, we can talk.”
Yoongi nodded and motioned for him to walk first, the younger leading the way to somewhere less crowded. He was fast in his steps, hips snapping from side to side in sharp sways. Yoongi willed himself not to look, because they'd barely even spoken, but God was it hard. He forced his head over to where Namjoon was sitting, the man not even pretending not to look. Yoongi recalled high school when his friends would watch him attempt to ask his crushes out during study hall. Life at sixteen didn’t differ much from thirty-three.
The blonde stopped suddenly and Yoongi held himself from running into him, watching as he cleared his throat and crossed his hands over his chest. “So?”
Yoongi smirked, suave and carefree like his left hand wasn't sweating bullets in his pocket. “So,”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of the man’s lips, and he cocked his head at him, “you said you wanted to talk?”
Yoongi had said that, but he didn’t know what to say. He felt his cool act begin to crumble in a matter of seconds, his mask coming undone in the face of his own guilelessness. How had he let Namjoon talk him into this? The fire in twenty-year-old Yoongi had long been put out by the domesticity of having a wife and a mortgage.
“Hello?”
Yoongi swallowed and snapped back to the reality that he was already in this. He couldn’t back out without making a fool of himself. “Sorry, I’m sure this must be so awkward for you,” he tried an honest smile and watched the other break into a smile of his own, confused but curious. “I just- I saw you across the bar and I couldn’t help but think you were gorgeous,”
That earned him a beautiful laugh, “Oh, really?”
“I’m sure you get this a lot, but you are. Gorgeous that is,” he swallowed and pressed forward a bit, trying his luck “I’d like to buy you a drink. If that’s okay with you?”
“A drink sounds nice,” he nodded, “but maybe we do names, first?”
Yoongi cursed in his head and stretched out his left hand because his other was occupied, “sorry, my name’s Yoongi, what’s yours?”
He took Yoongi’s hand in his before he could pull back, wrapping his small fingers around his like his palm didn’t feel like a beer can. “I’m Jimin,”
“Pretty name,” he blurted out without thinking, mentally stepping on himself once he realized he was floundering. He knew he’d be bad, but he didn’t think he could have been this bad. Being comfortable had left him so wholly without tact. Min Yoongi was now only a ghost of his younger, more winsome form.
“Thank you,” Jimin held his hand tighter and leaned up into him, smiling sweetly when he stiffened. “And between you and me, I’ve never had a man shake my hand with his wedding ring on before,” he raised the remnants of his pink drink up in cheers, “points for shock factor,”
“What?” His words crawled into his ears at snail speed and Yoongi stood still, blinking at Jimin as he tried to understand why he was staring at him like that. He looked down at his ring finger and cursed, yanking the band off and shoving it in his pocket. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear,”
“Mhmm,” Jimin nodded, “sure,”
“No, I’m serious.” He insisted, “I’m divorced. I just got divorced that’s why I still have it on,”
“You just got divorced,”
“Yeah, my wife -ex-wife, I guess- and I just finalized everything today. I’m not in a relationship anymore.”
Jimin dragged his eyes up his frame, “you're not lying?” It wasn't really a question.
“I'm not,” Yoongi answered, regardless.
The blonde pouted, “I’m sorry to hear that,”
He wasn't used to hearing condolences on his divorce, so he cringed. He dragged his hand down his face and jerked his head twice. “Don’t be sorry,” he appeased, “it was for the best,”
Jimin hummed a curious sound and sipped his drink; Yoongi wondering if that was a dick thing to say. “Was it? Why’d you get a divorce?” He crossed his legs over each other and leaned back against the wall, eyes suddenly sparkling with interest. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal,”
“It’s not personal,” Yoongi grumbled, sighing. “I found out –realized, actually, that I was gay.”
“Was?”
“Am,”
If he didn't have Jimin's attention before, he definitely had it now. Pretty, dark eyes shining in earnest, he whistled, “How long were you guys together?”
Yoongi bristled and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not with someone he was trying to take home. “This feels like an interrogation,”
“It’s not,” Jimin mumbled, laughing when that didn’t seem to get him off edge. He hummed and batted his eyes at him, “I’m really just curious about you, Yoongi, you don’t have to tell me.”
Yoongi felt his stomach coil tightly at the sound of his name on Jimin’s tongue. It was a soft trill, voice gentle and honeyed. Yoongi had never heard his name sound like that, and it was pathetic how much he liked it. His mouth went dry and he shrugged, turning away. “About ten years,”
Another whistle, “I can imagine the divorce papers came the next day,”
“She was nice enough to serve them with breakfast,”
Jimin laughed, for the first time not at Yoongi's expense, “I don’t blame her,”
Yoongi sipped his whiskey and cocked his eyebrow, “yeah, me neither,”
They stood in each other’s presence for a while, both nursing on their glasses and eyeing each other thoughtfully. Jimin looked off to the side, and Yoongi swallowed, dragging his eyes down his thin, long neck. He wondered how easy it would be to grab it and mark it in kisses. He wondered how sweetly Jimin would whimper if he enjoyed it. He knocked his drink back, “so, about that drink,”
The blonde turned back to him, blinking to refocus his eyes, “If you’re just out of a ten-year long marriage-”
“We were only married for six years. We dated for two years and-”
“Semantics don't matter,” Jimin droned with an eyeroll, “if you were together for ten years, how old are you?”
Oh yeah, Yoongi realized, they hadn't gotten to that conversation yet. He felt anxious suddenly; he’d never had to worry about being too old for someone. He wanted to strangle Namjoon, “I'm thirty-three, I don’t know if that’s-” he cut himself off with a sigh, suddenly embarrassed by the question he was gonna ask.
Hey, I'm Yoongi. Nearly geriatric. Would you still hit? Please say yes.
Jimin gave him an undecipherable look and he felt himself stiffen. He was going to make Namjoon eat glass, then he’d strangle him. Long eyelashes fluttered, “Cute,”
“Cute?”
“You’re embarrassed because you think you’re too old for me,” Jimin supplied and Yoongi cursed himself for being so predictable. “It’s cute.”
“I think I’m too old for you?” Yoongi echoed, not really asking a question. ‘Think’ implied he was wrong, he fixed Jimin with a look. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two,”
Yoongi choked on air and stepped back, beating his chest. “Fucking hell, Jimin I am too old for you,”
“Not really,” the younger uncrossed his legs and stood up straighter, reaching out to rub Yoongi’s forearm. “I’ve been with a couple older men. If that helps.”
It did. “That isn’t-” Yoongi froze when Jimin dragged his fingers up from his forearm, the ghost of his touch on his flesh making him shudder. His cock twitched in his pants when Jimin fixed him with a pout, the temperature of the air between them rising.
“So, what?” Jimin mumbled, pushing forward to nose into the older’s neck. He breathed in the smell of his cologne and whined low in his chest. “You don't think I'm gorgeous anymore?”
Yoongi shook his head, “no, I’m just- you're gorgeous, of course you're gorgeous. I’ve just never been with anyone younger, and I didn’t know if you’d been with older men.”
Jimin snickered and Yoongi realized he was fucking with him, clamping his lips shut. “Seriously, you make it so easy,”
“I’m glad you’re having fun,”
The younger stroked his cheek lightly, not properly moved out of his personal space, “Look, I’m an adult,” he smiled, “not everyone you meet will be thirty-three, you know?”
“I know that” he was getting lectured by a person eleven years younger than him. “Of course I know that.”
“So, are you gonna buy me that drink or not?”
Yoongi thought it over in his head for a moment, already imagining Namjoon making fun of him if he were to say no. They both knew this situation would never present itself again. Yoongi would probably never go out to the bar like this. He would never let himself get this tipsy or be audacious enough to hit on a person.
Yoongi would never find someone who checked as many boxes as Jimin did. He sniffed and nodded at the cup in Jimin’s hand, eyeing his slender wrist. “Are you done with that one?
“Doesn’t matter,” Jimin shook his head, placing his cup down and lacing his hand in with Yoongi’s. “I want the drink you’re gonna buy me more,”
“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, turning and dragging Jimin along with him. He pulled him through the growing crowd of dancing bodies, their hands woven together tightly because Yoongi was scared, he’d look back and Jimin would be gone.
They pulled up just beside Namjoon, his seat saved by a jacket and a bag. He ignored his friend where he sat beside him, still nursing on the last drink they’d ordered. He felt him stare a hole into the side of his head and turned to Jimin, “what would you like?”
“A sex on the beach,” Jimin addressed the bartender directly, smiling warmly as the person stopped in front of them. It was a tall man now, with slender wrists and a small waist accentuated by his apron. Namjoon nudged him with the point of his shoe, and he turned his head back to Jimin. “Double shot, please,”
“Sure,”
They slipped back into silence, Jimin and Namjoon on either side of Yoongi making him feel like a sardine. They were both imposing in their own way; especially when they wanted an answer to a question. Namjoon cleared his throat and suddenly where Yoongi and Jimin’s hands were joined grew hot. If he could get Jimin’s drink quick enough, he could leave without the two of them speaking.
As if on cue, they both made to open their mouths and he swallowed a groan, sighing. “Jimin,” he started, watching the younger perk up in interest, “this is Namjoon,” he turned to Namjoon, the loopy smile on his face pissing him off. “Namjoon, Jimin,”
“Nice to meet you,”
Namjoon raised his glass in agreement, “likewise,”
Yoongi grumbled, “Now that that’s over,”
“Are you thirty-three too?” Jimin asked Namjoon, ignoring him.
Yoongi closed his eyes slowly and groaned when Namjoon smiled, “I'm thirty-one right now, but I'll be thirty-two in September,”
“Would you get with a twenty-two-year-old?”
Namjoon smiled sordidly and looked between them, eyes finally resting on Jimin. He dragged his eyes up his body unabashedly, paying no mind to how Yoongi tensed beside him. He bit his lip, “If we were into each other, yeah,”
Jimin turned to a frozen Yoongi, watching how his cheeks pinked under the black frames of his glasses. “See?” he grabbed the drink the bartender put down with a polite nod and tugged on Yoongi’s arm. “let’s go dance,”
Yoongi allowed himself to be pulled, still too frazzled by the interaction that just occurred. They stopped just in front of Jimin’s friends, Jimin setting down so he could start at his drink. He took a long sip through his straw and moaned in contentment. “Guys, this is Yoongi,” he waved a casual hand between them when he realized everyone was waiting on him, “Yoongi, my friends,”
One of them, Yoongi remembers Jimin calling him Hoseok, snorted and rolled his eyes. “He’s Yoongi and we’re what? Chopped and liver?”
Yoongi snorted and Jimin gave him a look that had him throwing his hands up in surrender. “I’m Hoseok, that’s Taehyung.” He looked around himself, “the one with big eyes was Jungkook, he just went to the bathroom,”
“Nice to meet you guys,” Yoongi nodded awkwardly, “Jimin already said but I’m Yoongi,” he nodded at Taehyung and turned back to Hoseok, “I'm sorry, I don't really have much else to tell.”
Hoseok smiled warmly, “not much going on huh?”
Yoongi chuckled and shrugged, “nothing that might make interesting conversation,”
Jimin pulled off from his straw, “except that he just got divorced,”
There was a loud croak when Taehyung choked, beating on his chest as he stared between them. Yoongi turned to Jimin, watching him bite his lip to keep from laughing at his friend’s frazzled expression. Yoongi refused to acknowledge how much his brattiness riled him on and pressed on, “if you consider that interesting,”
Taehyung stood up straighter, “when you say just,”
“I mean I was in the courthouse a couple hours ago,” Yoongi filled in, smirking when his jaw hung low. He guessed being divorced was something like a party trick.
“How long were you guys together?” Hoseok asked, immediately cutting in with a concerned look. It seemed that neither Jimin nor his friends understood the concept of intruding.
“Around ten years,” Yoongi sighed.
Jimin perked up, “Yoongi is thirty-three,” behind him and Yoongi nodded his agreement.
“I am thirty-three,” he said, “thank you Jimin,”
“Oh wow, ” Hoseok pouted, lips turning down comically. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” he looked around when no one said anything, “that you got divorced, that is, not that you’re thirty-three,”
“We got that,” Taehyung muttered the same time Yoongi sighed, “don’t be,” with a small shrug of his shoulders. He placed his hand over his chest to let Hoseok know he appreciated his empathy, the younger man pouting at him with a confused frown.
“Why?”
“It was for the best,” Yoongi and Jimin echoed.
Taehyung snorted, “is he telling us or did you wanna tell us?” To which Jimin replied with a show of his middle finger.
He turned to Yoongi when Taehyung rolled his eyes and reached for his hand, “I'm done with my drink, let’s go dance,”
“What-“
Hoseok chirped, “he gets through alcohol quick,”
“Fuck you,” Jimin rolled his eyes when Hoseok stuck his tongue out, pulling Yoongi in the direction of the dance floor. He paused after a step and turned to grab his friend by the cheeks, leaning in to whisper, “blonde tips with dimples at the bar is open-minded. Thank me later,”
“What?”
“I said, thank me later,”
He released Hoseok and reached for Yoongi again, the taller stewing on the familiar sense of déjà vu he was experiencing. He was too far gone to be embarrassed by how willing and eager he was for Jimin.
Jimin parked them in a cozy enough corner and turned to face Yoongi, creeping closer to press himself flush against the older man. “Hi,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s neck, “fancy meeting you here,”
The older’s arms went to his waist instinctually, grip tight and careful. He swallowed and snorted, “hey,” he coughed when Jimin began to sway them more, hips snapping towards his stiff ones. He sighed, “I should probably let you know that I'm no good at dancing,”
“That’s okay,” the blonde murmured, rubbing Yoongi’s hands down his body and stopping at his ass. “you're not going to have to think for any of this dancing, I promise,”
“Jimin,”
“Follow my lead, trust me,”
They swayed to the beat mechanically, Yoongi tripping over himself a few times as he tried to focus. He looked everywhere but at Jimin, whose eyes were trained on him like a wild cat, heat boiling in his veins and through his body.
He hissed when he felt a pressure on his clothed cock, suddenly aware of Jimin's lithe hips pressing dangerously against him. His cock twitched in his pants and he cursed, finally dragging his eyes up to meet Jimin’s.
“It’s rude not to look,”
Yoongi swallowed around the cotton in his throat, “sorry I just,” he hissed when more pressure had precum leaking out of his cock, “if you do that, I can’t focus,”
“Shh, don’t fight it,” the younger insisted, disregarding his warning. “It’ll help you loosen up,”
“If I'm this stiff now, you don’t want to see me dancing with a boner,”
The younger regarded his words with a cheeky smile, head lifting in a show of something defiant and insistent. He pressed against Yoongi again, this time in a slow rhythm as he moved his hips. Yoongi knew he was hardening quickly, feeling every bit of fifteen in Jimin’s arms.
“Come on,” the younger panted, his own erection starting to fill between his legs. Yoongi was suddenly aware of the feeling of a man’s member against his thigh. He didn’t hate it one bit. “Are you just gonna leave me to have fun by myself?”
Yoongi shook his head, “wanna have fun with you,”
Jimin dragged his tongue over Yoongi’s lips, nibbling on his bottom lip before pulling away. “Then do something about it”
They stared at each other for a moment, Jimin giggling when Yoongi finally leaned in and caught his plump lips with his own. He licked into the older’s mouth to deepen their kiss, rolling his body to the beat of the music. Their kiss was wet and passionate, tongues fighting for dominance in their mouths. Yoongi grunted and gripped Jimin’s hips harder, leaning over him as he rutted his cock on his body. He pecked his lips and pulled back, mumbling a quiet, “you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” and watching him smile.
Jimin laughed a gentle sound, almost breathless in Yoongi’s arms. “You’re a good kisser,” he mumbled between their lips, letting Yoongi peck him, “I was worried that you would just be a handsome face,”
Yoongi smiled gummy and wide, excited at the opportunity to tease Jimin. “Oh, so you think I’m handsome?”
Jimin snorted and rolled his eyes, resting his forehead against him when the music switched to something slower and more sensual. “Don’t act like you don’t know,”
“It’s still nice to hear it every once in a while,”
“I’m sure it is,” Jimin leaned in to peck him again, “are you gonna take me home, Mr. handsome?”
“Is home your place or mine?”
“Definitely yours,” he looked behind himself at where his friends were giggling together, Taehyung making no attempt to hide that he was watching. “My roommates would kill me if they got sexiled tonight.”
Yoongi nodded his understanding, “yeah, sure, we can go back to my place,” he patted himself down and stepped back, “let me go get my car keys,”
“I’ll wait by the entrance,”
Yoongi strolled back to where he and Namjoon had been perched, awkward under his friend’s knowing gaze. He cleared his throat and jutted his thumb at the door, picking up his bag. “I- uh- I’m gonna go... home.” He sniffed and placed a bill down on the counter, “drinks on me,”
“Going home alone?”
“Fuck off,”
Namjoon waved sardonically, face rested on the palm of his free hand as he fought back a grin. “Have fun,”
“Fuck off,”
“You said that already,”
“Well, you’re not fucking off quick enough,”
He watched Jimin wave his friends goodbye out of the corner of his eyes, walking towards the exit with a salacious sway of his hips. At his friends’ table, Hoseok seemed to be gearing up to approach them, eyes peeled on Namjoon’s absentminded form. He recalled how he and Jimin had exchanged whispers, the blonde giggling and mischievous. Yoongi stepped away from Namjoon and shook his head; he probably shouldn’t meddle.
He strolled to the bar’s entrance to meet Jimin, parking beside him and pointing back into the dimly lit space. He tried, “Hoseok?”
Jimin shook his head, biting his lower lip. “Don't worry about it,”
“Okay,” he nodded, hands up in mock surrender, “are you ready to go?”
Jimin clutched his own jacket in his arms and lifted it to show Yoongi, “as I’ll ever be,”
Yoongi nodded stiffly and led him to his car, dumping his things in his trunk and coming around to open the door for Jimin. The blonde giggled at the gesture but let him do it, smiling as he closed the door for him. “What a gentleman,”
“What can I say?”
He walked around and hopped into the driver’s seat, starting the car and making conscious effort not to type the wrong address in. He stole a glance at Jimin once he started on the road and chanced a breath. Fuck, he was actually doing this.
“So, Mr. divorcee,” Jimin started after a few minutes of silence, like he could feel Yoongi staring despite the fact his eyes were glued to his phone, “when’d you start taking boys home?”
Yoongi buffered and turned to him quickly, “What?”
“Come on, I'm sure you must be enjoying this whole new thing,” Jimin nudged him in the side cheekily, “there’s a couple billion men on earth for you to try. If I was you, I’d be on guys like white on rice.”
Yoongi blushed, a proper one this time, deep and red from his cheek to his ears. “I've never actually…” he paused, mortification pending at the back of his head as he tried to rephrase. “You're the first guy I'm taking home,”
Jimin hummed noncommittally, fingers pausing their rapid movement once Yoongi’s words settled in his head. His head snapped up and he blinked, staring at him like he’d grown an extra limb. “What?”
“I’ve never- is it that bad?”
Jimin scoffed an incredulous sound, “I mean we’re on our way to yours to have sex- do you even own lube?”
They turned a sharp corner, Jimin’s things jostling on his lap as Yoongi looked away in embarrassment. “of course I have lube Jimin, Jesus Christ,” he was mildly offended at the question, “straight people own lube too,”
“Don’t get cranky, I'm only asking ‘cause it’s my ass on the line here,”
“I'm not being cranky,” Yoongi mumbled
They sat in silence, Jimin only perking up when another terrifying thought went through his mind. “you’re not a virgin, are you?”
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” Jimin threw his hands up in surrender, “I've never been in a situation like this, I'm being cautious,”
“I was married for 6 years,”
“To a woman,” Jimin countered, “but you're gay.”
“So I just what?” Yoongi asked, “didn’t ever fuck her for ten years,”
Jimin scoffed, “People do it all the time,” he argued, “there’s ways to get off without actually having sex. The gay men with beards do it all the time.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t know I was gay till half a year ago,” Yoongi turned a corner with a frown on his face, eyes fixed on the road. “She wasn't my beard. I'm thirty-three and I had a wife that I loved. I've had and enjoyed sex, Jimin.” He cursed when the words left his mouth and echoed in the car, suddenly making himself uncomfortable. He dropped his head on the steering wheel once he was stopped at a red light. “Fuck, I sound like a teenager,”
A low sound echoed in the car as Jimin reached for his closest hand gently, soft eyes on him. “I'm sure you loved her very much. I don’t think she was your beard,” he mumbled, sheepish and careful. “I wasn't trying to offend you,”
The tension building seemed to deflate at his kind and earnest words. Yoongi swallowed, “I… I know you weren’t.” He sighed, sparing Jimin a wary look. “You have your right to feel cautious. I'm just really fucking embarrassed right now.”
Jimin pulled their looped hands towards himself and untangled them, placing Yoongi’s palm flat against his chest and looking up at him. “I'm not a girl,” he whispered after a moment, “I just want to be sure that you are into this,”
“I am into that,” Yoongi insisted, neck strained to show his honesty. “I've seen videos and-“ he paused at his own lack of words and turned to Jimin, hoping he’d see sincerity in his eyes, “I do want this, Jimin, I wouldn’t have approached you at the bar if I didn’t,”
Yoongi shifted in his seat when he didn’t get a reply, regret already washing through him. He sighed, “Look I- if you want me to drop you off at your place-“
He shut him down with a squeeze to the hand on his chest, letting it fall to the middle console after a while. “I want this too,” Jimin murmured, leaning into him as best as he could without interrupting his driving, “I want you to fuck me so good I see stars.” He snaked his hand up the inside of Yoongi’s thigh and watched as he stiffened, turning to him once they reached another stoplight. “I just want to know you can do it for me,” he blinked up at him, eyes half lidded and tone dripping with arousal. “Can you do that for me, Yoongi?”
Yoongi realized that the word he’d been looking for all night was hypnotizing. Jimin was hypnotizing. He was an eerily beautiful snake charm, and Yoongi was the common garter snake. Powerless against something as fierce as Jimin. That was why he had been so eager to say yes, not even worried about giving it much thought. If Jimin wanted something he wanted to say yes.
“I can if you show me how,” he murmured, hand slipping towards the exposed meat of his thigh and watching a shiver of arousal creep through him. Jimin wanted this just as much as Yoongi did, and that was why he wasn’t allowed to feel stupid. He gave his thigh a squeeze, “I want to make you feel good.”
They stared at each other speechlessly and Jimin swallowed, eyes falling down to Yoongi’s hands. He was already growing uncomfortably tight in his jeans. “How much longer till we’re at your place?”
Yoongi didn’t bother looking at the GPS. “Five minutes,” he muttered, because he would get them to his place in five minutes or he’d have Jimin in the backseat of his car.
“Okay,” Jimin nodded, facing forward when Yoongi turned to the road. “I can wait five minutes,”
The rest of the ride was a blur, Yoongi parking haphazardly in the garage and crossing to his apartment’s elevator in long strides. He pulled Jimin after him, his hand threatening to burn a hole in his flesh as they stood beside Yoongi’s elderly neighbour. She gave them a look as she adjusted her walker, she’d just come back from throwing her garbage. “Good evening, Yoongi,”
“Good evening, Mrs. Kim,” he croaked, voice hoarse and gravelly from lack of use. Jimin snickered and he gave his wrist a pinch.
“What floor is it again?” she asked, reaching a crooked finger towards the buttons as Jimin looked at him for an answer.
“Penthouse,” he whispered to Jimin, not trusting the sound of his voice out loud anymore.
Jimin nodded and turned to the lady, “penthouse floor, please,”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
The elevator took them up with a silent whizz, Yoongi and Jimin pressed against each other in the far-right corner. Yoongi was still achingly hard as he pressed his forehead into Jimin’s shoulder, creeping as close to Jimin as he could. He wondered how the younger stood so confidently beside him, not a hint of nerves showing on his face. Mrs. Kim seemed to agree, unable to tear her eyes away from him
“Such a pretty thing,” the woman hummed, Yoongi perking up by Jimin's side, “where’d you come from?”
Jimin laughed at the compliment and cocked his head at her, “where, tonight or…?”
She huffed an exhausted sound and rolled her eyes, “I don’t have any business with the places you kids go to,” she turned to look at him properly, “where are your parents from, sweetie?”
“Oh,” Jimin perked, “Busan, ma’am,”
“Of course,” she sighed understandably, tutting and shaking her head. “Very beautiful faces down in Busan, you must look like your mother,”
“Almost identical,” Jimin laughed, nodding excitedly,
She made a sound to say she thought as much and peeked behind him, “have you been, Yoongi?”
The older man groaned at being engaged with and let his head fall onto Jimin’s shoulder. He shook his head, “No, Mrs. Kim, I haven’t been to Busan,”
She scoffed, “you should take him one day, pretty,” she pointed between them, “Yoongi is a handsome boy. Your parents would like his kind for Chuseok.”
“Maybe,” Jimin teased, laughing when she winked at him. “If he’s still around by then I'll think about it.”
She hummed her agreement and straightened off her walker once they reached her floor, waving them goodbye behind herself. “you kids have fun, tonight,” she called, “tomorrow is a public holiday so take your time,”
“Jesus Christ,”
Jimin giggled, “goodnight Mrs. Kim,”
They watched her hobble her way out, pushing the stroller in tiny shuffles. Jimin looked over his shoulder at Yoongi and giggled when he growled and nipped at his neck, waiting for the doors to close before starting, “why are you so grumpy?” he laughed, “she’s sweet and funny,”
Yoongi groaned, “I don’t want to speak with my elderly neighbour when my dick is hard as fucking diamonds in my pants,”
Jimin hummed and humped his ass back against him, giggling when that earned him a spank, “I think you're harder right now,” he squealed when Yoongi pinched his waist, “are you licensed to carry?”
“You just wait till we get to my place,”
“Hmm?” Jimin teased, “what’ll you do to me?”
“You know what I’ll do,”
“Mm tell me anyway,” he leaned back into him, rubbing his ass flush against Yoongi and pressing. “Come on, practice your homosexual dirty talk on me. I'm your first, how are you gonna woo me into bed?”
“Jimin,”
“You can still call it a tight pussy,” he whispered when Yoongi’s hard cock slotted itself firmly between his ass cheeks. “Everything else has to go, probably,”
Yoongi held his waist tight to keep him from moving anymore, hiss on the tip of his tongue. A metallic thunk echoed as he through his head back against the elevator wall, “are you trying to make me cum in this stupid elevator?”
Jimin turned in his hold to look at him, eyes slipping down to Yoongi’s red, bitten lips. His voice dropped sultry, “I'm not trying to, but it’d definitely give me a big head if you did,”
The ding of the elevator pulled their attention away from each other, Yoongi giving Jimin a small spank and push to get him moving. “let’s go, you narcissist,” he turned his shoulders in the direction of his apartment and pointed, “that one,”
“Passcode?”
“0309,” he paused, feeling the need to explain to explain himself. “It’s my birthday,”
“You gave that away so easily,” Jimin mumbled, bending forward slightly to put the code in. Yoongi eyed the way his ass was poised right in front of his crotch. “What if I came back to rob you?”
“You could try but I don’t think you’d succeed,”
“You underestimate-“ he straightened and looked back at Yoongi, “is that September third or March ninth?”
“March ninth,”
“Hmm,” Jimin stepped into the apartment first, jaw dropping as he took in the interior. He whistled, “fuck, I can’t wait to be an adult, look at this place.”
“You are an adult,” Yoongi snorted and pulled him back by the arm, leaning into the crook of his neck for a deep whiff of his cologne. “Stop gawking,”
“Why?” Jimin whined, feeling himself get hot and bothered when Yoongi’s large hands squeezed his hips. “I can’t appreciate good interior design?”
Yoongi nipped at his flesh softly, “That’s not what we’re here for,”
“Oh yeah?” he teased, “what are we here for?”
“Jimin,”
“Tell me,” He murmured, running his fingers through Yoongi’s long black hair. “I want to hear you say it,”
Yoongi licked a stripe up his neck and nosed at his jaw, cock pressing against Jimin harshly. “you said you’d show me how to make you feel good,”
“Hnn that’s what you want?” the younger mumbled, moaning when teeth scraped against the slight bump of his Adam’s apple, “to make me feel good?”
“More than anything else,” he all but growled, desperate and pleading. “Show me how,”
They stumbled through the penthouse, barely managing to not trip over themselves as they made it to Yoongi's bedroom. They collapsed onto the mattress together, Jimin reaching up to yank Yoongi’s jacket off his shoulders. He shuddered when the man licked into his mouth, humping upwards to rub himself against Yoongi's cock. “Lube,” he muttered, “we need lube first,”
Yoongi complied without a word, sitting back on his hunches to search in his bedside table for lube. He grabbed a row of condoms once he found it and threw both on the bed beside Jimin. “Sorry, I wish I knew what kind of stuff you used,”
Jimin smiled up at him, heart swelling in his chest with endearment. “It’s okay, I don’t care,” he wrapped his hands around Yoongi's neck to pull him closer. “You're cute, I'll use whatever”
“Stop,”
“So cute,” he mumbled, “and you listen so well. Do you like listening to me?”
“Jimin, fuck, I haven’t-“
“You're thinking too much,” Jimin sang in his ears, dragging his nails lightly down his back. “Just go with the flow, darling,”
Darling, he muttered to himself, Jesus.
The younger giggled at his hesitance and pressed on, “okay?”
“Okay,”
“You like listening to me, right?”
“Y-yeah,”
“And you want to listen to me more?”
“I do,” he nodded, “so much,”
Jimin smiled at him, wide and dripping with arousal. “you're so good to me Yoongi,” his back arched off the bed when Yoongi dragged his hands over the outline of his figure. “So kind,” He reached down and pulled his jeans down his hips, spreading his legs on either side of the older man’s thighs once he was fully nude. “Put some lube on your finger. You have to start with one finger,”
Yoongi nodded, trying to calm his heart hammering in his chest. It was his first time seeing a man’s naked body, and Jimin's was a vision. His cock was a nice size, curved only slightly to the left where it laid hard and leaking on his stomach. Yoongi squirted a sizeable amount of lube onto his right pointer finger and pressed it against Jimin’s rim, dragging his eyes up and away from his body.
“You can look,” Jimin encouraged, reaching down to cover Yoongi's hand with his own. He squeezed it as his cue to press in and threw his head back when it sank down to the first knuckle. Yoongi knew he had large hands, but Jimin made it seem like so much more than that. He swallowed when the younger giggled, “is this the first time you’ve seen a man naked?”
“Uh…” Yoongi tried, “I uh-”
“Naked like this, I mean,” Jimin clarified before he could begin floundering, “have you ever?”
Yoongi swallowed and shook his head, “No, I haven't.”
“Now you have,” Jimin whispered, voice tender. He was speaking to him like he could spook him away at any second. A part of Yoongi felt like he was right. Jimin was something frightening. “Is it everything you’d ever dreamed of?”
And Yoongi felt his breath slip from his throat at the question. Everything he’d ever dreamed of? He shook his head, “beyond my imagination,” he mumbled, “I wouldn’t have thought of you in a hundred years,”
Jimin pressed his hand deeper inside himself, feeling Yoongi’s finger worm its way towards his prostate. He clenched around the digit and panted. “For someone with this innocent act you're quite the smooth talker,”
“I'm not acting innocent,”
“You're not,” Jimin agreed without an argument, nodding when Yoongi tried to move his finger. “You've just never fingered a man before,”
It wasn’t a question. Yoongi’s cheeks burned a dark shade of red. “I haven’t,” he swallowed, “I’m sorry, if this is bad,”
“It’s-” Jimin forced out a breath when Yoongi tried to crook his finger inside him, “it’s just like fingering a girl. Just in and out.”
“Okay,”
“You want to go slow first,” Jimin explained, “you have to stretch me out with a couple of fingers before your dick can fit,”
Yoongi nodded, “Okay. I got it,”
Jimin laughed, eyelids fluttering shut as Yoongi pulled out and sunk his finger back in to the knuckle. He took slow in the entirety of the word, moving in gentle crooks that lit a fire under the younger’s skin. “More lube,” he requested, fingers gripping the sheets in want. He sighed, “add a second finger. I need it, now.”
Yoongi was quick to comply, his eagerness only turning Jimin on more. “Do I just-”
“Just add it in,” he confirmed, “more lube then a second finger. Now, please,”
The older struggled to press his middle finger in with the pointer, moving both of them in together. Jimin shivered and choked beneath him, goosebumps raising on his pink blushed skin. His blonde hair was scattered around his pillow like a halo and his skin was shining with sweat. Yoongi bent down to kiss his forehead, “Is this okay?”
Jimin nodded and reached between his legs to grab Yoongi’s wrist, guiding him with purpose, “it’s- just press them in right-“ he paused and shivered, spasming as his eyes shot open and his back lifted off the bed, “oh fuck, holy shit fuck fuck fuck,”
“Was that-”
Jimin nodded erratically, still arched off the bed like a protractor. “You hit it so good just now,” he breathed, jaw hanging open. “Spread your fingers in-”
“It’s tight,”
“Yes, it’s an asshole so it’s gonna be tight just-“ he sighed and let out a frustrated growl, “just do something. Touch me or I’m gonna rip my hair out,”
The older shivered and looked down at him, frown on his face. “Touch you where?”
“Anywhere,” he moaned loudly when Yoongi’s fingers suddenly brushed against his prostate, ghost of a touch making his cock dribble precum. “Touch me anywhere. I just wanna feel your hands on me. I need something to distract myself.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” he replied without fail, honest and desperate, “but it feels so good Yoongi, I have to focus on something else, so I don’t cum. It’s so good,”
Yoongi’s eyes darted over him for a moment before he swallowed, bending down to his chest. He breathed over one of Jimin’s nipples and looked up at him for permission. “Can I?”
“Please,” Yoongi took it into his mouth, sucking the hard pink bud between his lips. He nibbled on it gently and flicked his tongue over its tip, trying to focus on his fingers working their way into Jimin’s ass.
He pressed his finger upwards in search of that familiar pleasure spot, eyes still fixed on Jimin with his nipple in his mouth. Jimin jolted when he realized what he was trying to do, nodding, “it’s right- holy shit. Fuck, yeah right there- nghh,” he mewled a low trill, sound so ridiculously erotic that Yoongi realized he was making a mess of his trousers.
He picked up the pace of his fingers and watched weak sounds trail out of Jimin . He looked at where Yoongi was nursing on his nipple and guided him over to the other one, shaking his head, “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow,”
“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbled, peppering featherlight kisses on the hollow of his chest before latching onto the other. “I got carried away.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jimin muttered, brushing his hair out of his face. “The soreness after is the best part.”
“Is it good so far? Are you feeling good?”
A soft chuckle as Jimin pulled him up to peck his lips, “well your fingers are nice and long so I feel them deep in me,” he smiled a cheeky smile, “I wish you would go harder though,”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,”
“You won’t hurt me, bodies are far more malleable than you think,”
Yoongi tried to nod his understanding, staring down at Jimin’s contorted figure below him. He didn’t get it and he was scared of hurting Jimin despite his words. Yoongi understood that he was barely any taller than him to be getting a size complex, but Jimin was just so small. He was slender and nicely shaped and narrow, and Yoongi had adored his wife, but Jimin made his mouth dry.
He dragged his eyes over his body, eyes fixing on the nipple he’d sucked to redness. He was sweating now, and his cock was painfully hard. He stretched a shaking hand to Jimin’s cock and gave it a tug. “I want to fuck you,” it was frank and almost petulant.
Fuck, Yoongi was pathetic. He trailed a shivering hand up to his navel, “I want to fuck you, please,”
“Yeah?” Jimin laughed, “you've been so hard against my thigh, I’m surprised you haven’t cum yet,”
Yoongi pulled his belt off and tossed it to the side of the room, zipping his pants down and gripping himself through his boxers. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, pushing Yoongi back with a finger when he made to pull out his cock. “But not yet. You still need to stretch me out a bit,”
“Oh,”
Jimin's shoulders shook when he threw his head back, “yeah, oh.” He rubbed a soothing hand up his arm, “think you can hold out till then?”
“Of course,”
“Your boxers are soaked with pre-cum.” Jimin muttered, dragging a finger over the outline of his hard cock “You sure you don’t want me to suck you off first?”
That was probably the best option to ease his pain at the moment, but Yoongi didn’t want it. He wanted to be in Jimin, and Jimin could tell, “or maybe not,” he cocked his head at Yoongi, “you don’t seem enthusiastic about a blow job,”
“Sorry,” he felt ridiculous, turning down a blowjob. “I just…”
“Want to fuck me?”
“Yeah,”
“Alright,” Jimin mused, grabbing lube and squeezing it over Yoongi’s hands. “Add a third finger,”
“Two is still tight,”
“It’s okay. You have a big cock so I'm gonna need to get stretched out sooner rather than later to take it,”
Yoongi blushed and nodded, watching his three fingers sink into Jimin slowly. The younger was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, wriggling on the bed as he tried to adjust to Yoongi’s new pace. He was faster now, spurred on by his own arousal and Jimin's earlier words. The younger grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it, whining, “hurts,”
The older’s movement stuttered but didn’t pause, “But I shouldn’t stop?”
“But you shouldn’t stop,” Jimin agreed, nodding into the pillow. He smiled when Yoongi squeezed his hip in a soothing pattern, murmuring sweet nothings beside his ears as he worked him open and pliant to take his cock.
They were quiet, both of them panting like dogs in the darkness of Yoongi’s room. The older crooked his fingers upwards suddenly and Jimin rose off the bed with a jolt and a yell, eyes fixed on him in shock. A spurt of precum had forced its way out and splashed on his stomach, dribbling down his sides slowly.
“You-“
Yoongi cringed, “sorry, was that any good? I was trying to… because you seemed to feel good last time when I touched that area.”
“It was good,” Jimin sighed, “it was just a lot to go from feeling like I was getting gouged open to having you beat on my prostate.”
“I should have-“
“No,” Jimin shook his head, “no, I liked it. It was very good,”
“Okay,” Yoongi sighed, “I'm sorry I keep stopping, this can’t be a good experience for you,”
Jimin placed his hand under his chin and turned his face up to look at him, “do you see me complaining?”
“You're too nice to complain,”
“I said I’d teach you, so I'll teach you,” he wrapped his legs around him and pulled him close, “you're far too in your head to enjoy this right now,” he murmured, “you're not supposed to think this hard about anything but fucking me,”
“I'm trying not to,”
“You’re not trying hard enough,” he whispered, “it’s just a little different from fucking women, I promise,”
He nodded and slipped his fingers back in, listening to Jimin's pitchy breathing as he sunk down to the last knuckle. “Tell me if it hurts too bad,” he murmured against his forehead, peppering it with kisses.
He started with a slow rock, in and out until he felt Jimin’s rim start to loosen around him. He sped up his pace every time he saw him catch his breath, faster and faster till the only sounds in the room were the smacking of his knuckles against Jimin’s plump ass and the shlick-shlick of his fingers in his ass.
“I can take four,”
Yoongi complied without argument, pressing four fingers in and watching Jimin gyrate on his bed. He dragged his other hand up and down his body, stopping at his navel where his cock laid abandoned on his hot flesh. It looked painful, twitching and jerking with every shudder from Jimin’s core. Yoongi tutted though he knew he wasn't any better in his boxers, wincing when Jimin pulled him out in one tug.
Short, stubby fingers stroked him with the leftover lube on his hands, Jimin ignoring the way Yoongi's eyes were clenched shut. “Fuck me,” he begged when neither of them could take much more, hands touching each other everywhere. “Before I cum on your fingers, hurry,”
Yoongi was blanching, the heat radiating off Jimin making him dizzy. He looked around himself like a lost lamb, “condom… I need a- I dropped one around here,”
“Yoongi, shit, please just fuck me,”
He pulled his fingers out and sunk in carelessly, eyes glazing over with lust as Jimin screamed and cried beneath him. “Fuck, you’re so big,” tears were streaking down his cheeks freely, his chest rising and falling with his quick breaths. Yoongi wasn't any better off, head hung low to keep the blinding brightness of his arousal at bay. Jimin sniffled and shuddered, clenching around him, “I can feel it in my throat, Yoongi, fuck,”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have,” he kissed the side of Jimin's head, lips pressed hard against his sweaty skin to distract himself. He needed to buy some time to get his wits about himself, “should’ve been more careful, sorry,”
Jimin shook his head, crying, “I don’t care, just hurry up and fuck me,”
They humped each other like rabbits, meeting each other’s thrusts halfway in loud smacks. Yoongi was probably drooling, Jimin was so filthy underneath him and so hot around him. His heart was in his throat. He felt so good. He was going to throw up.
“Fuck, Jimin,” was all he could say, voice a gravelly growl. Neither one of them were conscious enough to do anything other than curse or moan, Jimin's nails scratching up his back while his hands squeezed bruises into the younger’s waist.
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi,” trickled out of Jimin’s lips with each thrust, his mewls punctuated by Yoongi’s cock slamming against his prostate. It was good once he found his rhythm, amazing even. Yoongi knew how to work his waist and Jimin was weak to this much pleasure.
“Shit,” Jimin sobbed, curling in on himself, “oh fuck, oh fuck,”
Yoongi was nothing but grunts now, mouth latching onto any part of Jimin’s body he set his eyes on. He nibbled on his skin, leaving deep dark bruises anywhere he deemed fit. “You fuh- feel so good,” he whispered against his neck, and fuck, he wouldn’t last much longer. “Jimin, you're so tight around me, you feel so fucking good,”
“Mhmm?” Jimin asked, pulling him in for a deep kiss, “make us feel better,” he pleaded, “fuck me harder, Yoongi, please.”
He shook his head, much to Jimin’s chagrin, “Don’t wanna hurt you,”
“You're not gonna hurt me,” Jimin promised, “it feels so good. Don’t you feel so good?”
“So fucking good,”
“Come on,” he smiled into the kiss, “fuck me harder, mold my insides to the shape of your cock,”
“Jesus, fuck,”
“Don’t let me think about anything other than your cock, Yoongi, don’t wanna think about else. Just you. ”
Yoongi picked up his pace, the desperation for the orgasm he was chasing completely masking how sore his waist was getting. He’d worry about that tomorrow when he wasn’t balls deep in the prettiest person he’d ever seen. Now he just wanted them to cum.
“Yoongi ah, I nghh,”
“Yeah,” Yoongi agreed, because he got it. He understood this pleasure too well. “Me too,”
Jimin's cock twitched between them, and he dug his hands into the flesh of Yoongi’s thighs to keep him close, “inside,” he whispered, voice pleased and eyes dazed, “I want you to come inside,”
“Are you-?”
“I'm so sure,” he quivered, “fill me up, pump me full of your cum. I wanna feel you- inside, Yoongi please,”
“Fuck,” was all Yoongi said as he came with a deep groan, voice rumbling in the deepest part of his chest. Jimin was cumming too, hot cum splashing up his body to his own chin. There was drool dripping down his cheek and making a mess of Yoongi’s pillow, the both of them tangled together and shivering through their orgasms. They stayed that way until their cocks began to soften, echoes of pants and curses filling the room.
They separated after a moment, Yoongi falling back against the soft mattress with a weak groan. Jimin looked at himself and scrunched his nose in disgust, throwing his head back down beside Yoongi. “I’m so fucking filthy right now. Gross,”
“You told me not to pull out,”
“And wasn’t it the best orgasm of your life?”
Yoongi snorted, “you sounded like you had the best orgasm of your life,”
“It was definitely up there,” Jimin turned over to his side and traced a hand on Yoongi’s chest, he blinked at him curiously. “Did you want to...?”
Yoongi clued into what he was saying quickly, blush covering his ears as he sat up to look at him. “No,” he all but yelled, “I wasn’t, not like that. Did you want to?”
“Oh God no,” Jimin snorted, falling onto his back. “I’m not into topping, haven’t done it since I was seventeen. Way too much work just to cum, no thank you.”
Yoongi stared at him, “oh… It’s not weird that I don’t wanna… you know?” He coughed, “I heard a lot of gay men liked both, so I don’t…”
“There’s no gay rule book, Yoongi,”
The older put his hands up to pacify him, “I know, I just-”
“There’s nothing you have to do; only what you want to do,” he smiled, “if the only thing that turns you on is the thought of sticking it in dudes, then that’s what you like. Simple.” He grimaced, “and judging by the load you emptied in my ass, you liked it a lot,”
“God, shut up, I was holding back for so long I actually thought I was going to throw up if I didn’t fuck you soon,”
“When you turned down my blowjob offer, I was like, ‘oh, he’s a kinky fuck,’”
Yoongi blushed, “I’m not, I just- I wanted to do this for so long.” He paused to clarify, “Fuck you and just fuck a guy in general. I just thought it’d feel so much better if that was what I… came to… you know?”
“Tight, college student ass?”
“Honestly, yeah,”
“Perv,”
“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I thought it’d give me a sense of satisfaction or whatever. Like a ‘hey, I finally did it’ type of moment.”
Jimin giggled and hummed an understanding sound, snuggling closer to let Yoongi wrap his hand around his waist. “Were you satisfied?”
“You were right when you guessed best orgasm ever,” Yoongi mumbled, running his hand over his face. “I thought my heart was gonna stop halfway through it,”
“You’re dramatic,”
Yoongi leaned over to peck his lips, “Your ass is the best thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of sticking my dick in,”
“How romantic,”
“Are we doing romantic now?”
“Oh please,” Jimin rolled his eyes, “you were in the bar calling me gorgeous. That’s romantic language,”
“Maybe I'm just old school,”
Jimin giggled and caught his lips in a slow and sensual kiss, pushing his tongue deeper into Yoongi’s mouth. He pulled off after a moment, the older’s eyes dazed and starstruck as they followed him. “Well you're far from old school in this bedroom,”
“That’s true,” Yoongi agreed quietly, eyes lifting slightly when he smiled, “compared to you I'm greener than grass,”
“You are,” Jimin agreed.
“You taught me everything I know,” he joked, enjoying the sound of Jimin’s giggles.
“Well, you're a fast learner,”
“Am I really?”
“Yeah, so quick,” he hummed when he felt Yoongi twitch against his thigh, moving his leg to nudge him a bit. “It didn’t feel like I was fucking someone doing it for the first time, you did me so good,”
“Oh...”
Jimin licked over his closed mouth, “and I have so much to teach you if you want to learn,”
“I do, you know I do,”
He grabbed his face with both hands and smiled, wild and devilish when Yoongi wrapped his hands tight around his waist. His voice was a low mumble, “you ever heard of felching?”
Yoongi shivered and shook his head, already enticed, “no,”
“Do you want to know what it is?”
“Uh huh,”
Jimin nodded, eyes locked on Yoongi’s as he crossed a leg over his waist and sat on his lap. He smiled when Yoongi gulped and bent down to whisper, “I'm gonna have so much fun with you,”
Yoongi was more willing for this than he’d ever been for anything, “Please, do,”