Archive of Our Own

Jimin knows it’s a bad idea from the start.

It’s a bad idea when he accidentally lets it slip that he’s been holed up in his flat for their entire break. It’s a bad idea when he lets Jungkook (his bandmate of fourteen years, the object of all his desires, and the secret love of his life) bully him into going out with him. It’s a bad idea when he gets carried away and drinks more than he should.

And it’s definitely, very much a bad idea when he accepts Jungkook’s invitation to sleep over at his house.

And it’s not like they haven’t done this before—they do it often enough that it makes Jimin’s panic seem a little silly. They’re bandmates, yes, but they’re also best friends, each other’s person. Jimin knows the passcode to Jungkook’s house, and Jungkook’s fingerprint is registered in his dialpad (after a lot of sulking on the idiot’s part).

The point is, it’s not at all something new for them. It’s normal, like the sky being blue. A personal preference, like eating ramyeon with lots of spicy sauce.

But he’s been all over the place lately, dealing with anxieties that have him going insane. And when he tries to confide in Jungkook about any of them, the stupid idiot just gives him a look and says, “You’re just growing old and you hate that that’s happening, hyung. But it’s a normal part of life. You need to chill a little.”

And it has Jimin’s eye twitching, irritation rising inside of him like an angry tornado, because so what if he hates growing older? Doesn’t everyone?

And so what if he hates that his body isn’t the same anymore and his stamina is depleting? So what if he had a three-hour solid crash-out the other day because he noticed a new wrinkle on his face? So what?

Jungkook should be nicer to him. He should be a good sport and complain about it with him and feed his worries. Why does he have to try and reassure Jimin? Can’t he tell that Jimin wants to wallow in his misery for a little while?

“You’re a terrible person, Jeon Jungkook,” Jimin says solemnly, his expression morphing into a scowl, but he just looks sulky and non-threatening with his flushed face and squinty, glassy eyes.

Jungkook cracks a shit-eating grin, but his eyes are soft as he surveys him. He chucks him under his chin and turns him back around so Jimin is facing the rest of the living room, because Jungkook is currently sitting on his very cosy couch, and Jimin is sitting between his knees on the floor, because he was promised a massage for his sore everything and he’s currently only being bullied.

One out of five stars. Jimin wouldn’t recommend the experience to anyone. Well, seeing Jungkook’s face and hearing his happy giggles is certainly a sight, but it’s annoying when those giggles are specifically aimed at him, so no, he really wouldn’t recommend.

He’s mine anyway, he thinks sulkily. No one else should be looking at him.

Which is an extremely stupid thought. Considering that they’re world stars and everything. But whatever.

“You’re cute when you’re pouting.”

Jimin straightens, bristling. “You horrible, disrespectful, incompetent little—”

“Incompetent?” Jungkook’s voice is full of laughter, his doe eyes glinting with humour when Jimin looks again. They look horribly distracting under the low lights of his dark dungeon of a house. “I’ll have to disagree on that one.”

Jimin sniffs, disgruntled. He can’t argue with that. “You annoy me very much.”

“I love you very much,” Jungkook corrects, his grin turning gentle. “And I only want the best for you, and I don’t want you to be alone, which is why I invited you over.”

“So I’m a charity case now,” Jimin laments, burying his face into his arms as he hugs his knees to his chest. “Just what I needed after all these years of slaving away as an idol.”

“You’re still slaving away as an idol,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice a lazy drawl. He pulls Jimin back into him with two very large hands, fingers finding his shoulders as he slowly starts to knead. Jimin leans into the touch with a quiet moan, his eyes slipping shut. “The only difference is that it comes with a fat paycheck and devoted fans now.”

Jimin lets out a small mm, too busy thanking God for giving Jeon Jungkook big hands and the ability to actually use them. Jungkook peers down at him with fond eyes. “See?” He digs his fingers in hard enough for Jimin to yelp, massaging the tension out of his tight muscles. “I can be nice.”

Jimin tilts his chin up to look at him upside down, mouth still turned into an upset moue. “Occasionally. When a miracle happens.”

Jungkook lets out a small, amused huff, his magic fingers making their way down Jimin’s shoulders. “You wouldn’t like me if I was nice all the time, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin groans, so done with the conversation. He doesn’t want to talk. He wants to climb into Jungkook’s body and make a home out of it.

The thought makes him blink in surprise. He wonders if he drank more than his body could handle.

But he’s more sleepy than drunk now, thanks to all the water Jungkook forced into him. His blinks keep getting slower, more sluggish by the second, but his mind is wide-awake, hyper-aware of Jungkook’s hands on him.

And his body is still wound tight, buzzing with an energy he can’t channel into anything. And he’s tried—he’s tried to exhaust his body with dance, with choreo, with at-home yoga, with Pilates classes, with workouts. None of it has made a difference, and the only thing left that he hasn’t tried is—

“I miss sex.” Jimin sighs, too loose-tongued to mind whatever he’s saying. “Do you miss sex, Jungkook-ah?”

There’s a long, tense silence. Jungkook’s hands slow on the back of his neck, fingers pressing in a way that makes Jimin want to shudder. It’s only when Jimin is starting to frown and part his lips to ask another question when Jungkook clears his throat and says, “What?”

Jimin turns, blinking up at him. Jungkook is now leaning back on the couch, staring down at him with wide, flustered eyes.

He’s so effortlessly attractive with his stupid wet fresh-out-of-the-shower hair and his stupid black shirt and his piercings and the chain dangling from around his neck. Not to mention how big he is on the couch, dwarfing the poor thing by the sheer size of his body. His corded, tattooed arm is visible now that he’s shed his leather jacket, and the muscles in his neck shift as he swallows, throat bobbing with it.

Ugh, Jimin wants him.

The reminder makes him feel irrationally angry, because he knows that he can’t have him. “That’s a stupid question,” he mumbles. “Why would you miss sex? You probably have lots of it.”

Jungkook blinks hard. He’s eyeing him carefully, face blank and unreadable. He doesn’t confirm or deny the accusation. “Where is this coming from?”

“I haven’t had sex in over a year,” Jimin tells him bluntly, even as the apples of his cheeks glow pink. “Why do you think I’m so grumpy?”

“I like it when you’re grumpy,” Jungkook says softly, reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear, the way his warm, careful fingers linger over the sensitive skin making Jimin shiver. “Making you smile feels even more rewarding like this.”

Jimin flushes, his lashes fluttering as Jungkook tugs him closer by the back of his head. He rests his cheek on the broad plane of Jungkook’s thigh, staring up at him with shiny eyes. “Oh.”

Jungkook is being very sweet, probably trying to steer them away from such a dangerous topic, but it’s just making Jimin want to sit on his cock even harder, so he thinks this is all very counter-productive.

Jungkook smiles down at him, dimples and all, but his eyes are dark with a kind of heat that makes Jimin’s stomach flip. “What are you thinking about, Jimin-ah?”

You, Jimin wants to say, biting back a whine as Jungkook runs a finger down his overheated cheek to tip his chin up so they’re facing each other. Always you.

“I’m thinking…” Jimin’s chest rises and falls faster as he nuzzles into Jungkook’s thigh, leaning up to burrow his face into the crook of his thigh. He feels like an over-indulgent, pampered cat, but he can’t help it, greedy for Jungkook’s warmth, his heavy-lidded eyes finding the shadow of Jungkook’s dick print in his loose grey sweatpants.

Fuck. Jimin wants it. He wants it in his mouth so much that he can feel drool pooling under his tongue. He’ll even take it soft. He’ll suck and lick until it grows hard and starts throbbing and leaking on his tongue before he swallows all the come Jungkook has to give him.

His fingers travel up the span of Jungkook’s thigh, innocently hooking into the waistband of Jungkook’s sweatpants. “I just … I want to try something.”

Jungkook is tracking his movements carefully, his shoulders tense. His hair is falling over his eyes, and his gaze is sharp and focused as he watches Jimin.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, combing his fingers through Jimin’s hair before moving down to squeeze his nape in a way that makes Jimin’s breath hitch. “Like what?”

Jimin doesn’t try to act coy. He buries his head face-first into Jungkook’s crotch, inhaling deeply, his lashes fluttering as the smell of musk and soap and something that is so inherently Jungkook fills his nostrils. He makes a soft noise, nuzzling against the space, his belly filling with heat as he feels Jungkook’s cock jump under him.

“Shit.” A low hiss leaves Jungkook as he digs his fingers into Jimin’s head, gently fisting his hair to pull him away. “Jimin, you—”

“I just—” Jimin makes a small, wounded noise, unsure how to explain. He just wants to do. “I just wanna—”

Jungkook watches him with wide, anticipating eyes. His cheeks are flushed now, too. “What?” he breathes out. “What is it?”

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip, staring up at him thoughtfully. “Have you ever sucked cock before, Kook-ah?”

Jungkook’s chest heaves, mouth parting with surprise. “Yes,” he croaks out, fingers tightening in Jimin’s hair. “I have.”

“Mm.” Jimin is unsurprised. They don’t try to hide the nature of their sexualities from each other, after all. He doesn’t let himself think about the cocks Jungkook has sucked. It’s not his business, and right now he only has one goal. “Will you let me suck yours?”

Jungkook inhales sharply. “You—you want to—”

“Yes,” Jimin confirms, nodding fast, shameless and eager as he tugs at Jungkook’s waistband insistently. “Yes, I want—I wanna suck you off. Please.”

A low groan rips out of Jungkook at the words, his head falling back onto the couch. He’s breathing hard, and he looks a little overwhelmed. Jimin would feel bad, but the reveal of his long, corded neck distracts him, making him flush harder with want.

“Baby,” Jungkook says, voice hoarse, petting through Jimin’s hair in a way that makes heat surge in his tummy. “You’re drunk.”

Jimin glares up at him. “No, ’m not,” he mumbles, thumping his fist against Jungkook’s thigh in a poor imitation of a punch. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know what I want.”

“You want sex,” Jungkook tries to argue weakly. “Not this—”

“This is sex,” Jimin says, covering Jungkook’s clothed cock with one hand and squeezing. It throbs under his touch, plumping up steadily. He looks down at it in wonder, need pulsing through him in hot flashes. “Look at you,” he murmurs breathily. “You’re so—so big here too.”

Jungkook stares down at him, cheeks stained pink, slick mouth parted, already looking wrecked. “Hyung.”

Jimin gets on his knees, arching his back to get closer to him. “D’you want it?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers, voice rough and low, gaze hot on Jimin’s mouth.

A part of Jimin is surprised by the quick acceptance, but his horny brain is too busy rejoicing to focus on it. “Then—then let me have it please.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, nodding, the eye contact burning as he refuses to look away. “Yeah, hyung, okay, I—you can—”

Jimin doesn’t let him finish—he’s already tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough for Jungkook’s cock to spring out.

The sight of it, the sheer size of it, makes his vision blur, sound dulling in his ears as his heartbeat triples. It’s thick and veiny and already flushed at the tip, almost fully hard as it slaps against Jungkook’s stomach.

Oh.

Jimin supposes he’s not the only one affected by the need ignited somewhere deep inside of him. The realization pleases him in ways he has no control over.

And Jimin knows that they just agreed on it, that he just got permission to suck Jungkook off, but they both gasp when he surges forward and swallows the head into his mouth without warning. The heavy weight of it against his tongue has him muffling a moan, his brows furrowing in pleasure as the clean, rich taste of Jungkook bursts into his mouth.

“Shit.” Jungkook sounds breathless, his hands clenching and unclenching into the cushions on either side of him, as if he wants to touch but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. “Hyung, be—be careful, ah, fuck—”

Jimin snuffles, pulling back to run the tip of his nose over the length of his cock, peppering hungry, open-mouthed kisses at the base as he stares up at Jungkook through half-closed eyes. He takes hold of his cock with a loose hand, slapping it against the flat of his tongue in quick snaps as he stares back at Jungkook.

Jungkook’s mouth parts as he watches him, his breath growing short and heavy. “You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Jimin hides a smile, giddiness running a hot line through his system. He pulls back to jerk Jungkook’s cock with long, thorough pulls, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, ignoring the way Jungkook curses under his breath. “I didn’t know.”

Jungkook’s eyes are fixated on Jimin’s small hand, the way it barely fits around his cock, the way his fingers struggle to wrap around his girth, following his movements with ravenous focus. “Know what, baby?”

Baby. Oh, it’s nothing new, not when it comes to them, but Jimin likes hearing it a little too much, judging by the way his traitorous cock twitches in his pants.

Jimin leans in again to lick a fat stripe along the throbbing vein running down Jungkook’s cock, pressing a kiss to the leaking tip. When he speaks, his lips brush against the sensitive skin. “Didn’t know you were hung like this.”

Jungkook chuckles, a strained, rough sound that zings though his blood like ambrosia, his thighs fanning open wider to make more room for him. “You’re not supposed to, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin doesn’t like that. Maybe it’s just his half-drunk brain, or the result of the years of yearning he’s experienced, but he doesn’t like that he didn’t know that Jungkook could grow this big and fat when he’s hard. That he didn’t know the taste of Jungkook’s hot, salty pre-cum before today.

He doesn’t want to be careful. Doesn’t want to take it slow. He’s horny and deprived and in love and he wants to choke on Jungkook’s dick and he wants to choke on it now.

He’s leaning forward to swallow Jungkook’s cockhead again before he can even think, lashing at the tip with his tongue and greedily sucking the steady dribbles of pre-cum, saliva escaping his mouth and adding to the mess on Jungkook’s cock.

Jimin moans, a tiny noise representing the hot need inside of him, and then he’s sinking down even further, taking more of Jungkook’s cock until it’s unexpectedly hitting the back of his throat, making him choke and gag and pull off with a rough cough.

“Fuck—” Jungkook looks flushed and half out of his mind, his cock wet with a mix of saliva and sweat and pre-cum, but he instantly reaches out to cup his face, wiping at his teary eyes and the edge of his messy, abused mouth. “Easy, baby. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I want it.” Jimin whines, shuffling closer. He’s so annoyed with himself for choking. He can do better than this, he has done better than this, and he wants to be the best for Jungkook. He wants to be remembered, even if it’s for this one night. The thought of not being good enough makes him want to sob. “I want it, Jungkookie. Don’t hold back. Please—please give it to me.”

Jungkook is watching him with something dark and hungry in his eyes, the expression on his face sending a hot thrill down Jimin’s spine. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing Jimin by the back of his neck and dragging him closer.

He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and taps the tip against Jimin’s lips. “Open.” Jimin lets his mouth part pliantly, his tongue flat and waiting, and Jungkook wastes no time feeding him the head, keeping Jimin’s head in place with the hand wrapped around his nape. “Good boy.” His chest heaves with a big breath, eyes flickering over Jimin’s face rapidly, as if he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. “Now suck.”

A breathy little sound escapes Jimin, his entire body going limp as he starts to suckle at the tip, staying docile as Jungkook keeps feeding him inch after inch of cock. It turns him a little delirious, the weight of it, the way his cheeks are stuffed in a way they’ve never been before, mouth slippery-wet and drooling as he clumsily tries to wrap his mouth around the girth and suck his way up to the top.

“Doing so well,” Jungkook says in a low groan, lifting his hips to fuck into his mouth. The motion makes Jimin keen, makes him follow the movement so that his mouth isn’t deprived for a second, the thick glide of Jungkook’s cock addictive in a way that makes him want to squeeze his thighs together, but he only gets to go down halfway before Jungkook stops him.

“Fuck, look at you. You love it so much.” His fingers swipe at the sides of Jimin’s eyes, wiping away stray tears. His hand tightens at Jimin’s nape, not letting him escape despite the way Jimin whines in protest, a gruff sound escaping him. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, all submissive and whiny under me. My pretty baby hyung.”

Jimin preens, the praise washing over him in a warm, syrupy rush. He hums around his length, inhaling through his nose as his mind grows foggy. His cheeks hollow as he tries to keep his mouth tight and wet, the slide growing sloppy and filthy the moment Jungkook gets into a rhythm, pulling Jimin up by his hair only to thrust into his mouth again and again and then again, only showing mercy when Jimin chokes and hacks out a cough, pulling him off until a thick trail of saliva connects Jimin’s mouth to his glistening cock.

“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” Jungkook gasps out, swiping at Jimin’s soft cheek with a warm thumb. “Can’t believe you want me—fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this, hyung.”

Jimin’s teary gaze snaps to him, his pink mouth parting in surprise. “On—on my knees?”

Jungkook’s head is tipped back, his jaw gone slack around his heavy breathing, eyes half-lidded with desire. Something in his gaze flares hot as he watches Jimin, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock as he roughly jerks off to the ruined sight of Jimin’s face—his swollen lips, his flushed nose, the tears tracking down his face, the way his mascara has started to run down his cheeks.

He lets out an overwhelmed little fuck, forcing Jimin down to suck the head again, his grip on his hair like steel as he moves him like he wants.

“Just wanted you, hyung,” Jungkook grits out, almost slurring now, angling Jimin so his cock doesn’t hit the roof of his mouth. “Didn’t care how. On your knees, on your back, on your cute little tummy—shit, I don’t care as long as you’re under me.”

Jimin barely gets the chance to comprehend the words before his throat is being invaded. He chokes around the intrusion, a filthy little glug escaping as Jungkook holds him down. He claws at Jungkook’s thighs in a silent plea, scared of gagging, but Jungkook is having none of it; he pushes him down until his nose is buried in his pubic hair, his cock pulsing and throbbing in his mouth.

“Take it,” Jungkook orders breathlessly, snapping his hips up to seal himself fully into Jimin’s mouth, moaning at the way Jimin blubbers around his thick cock, the mix of spit and pre-cum slipping from his mouth and sitting at Jungkook’s base in a nasty froth. “I know you can take it, baby. Just—ah, shit, just like that—just look at that mouth. It was made to take cock, mm?”

All Jimin can do is sob, his face burning, his body growing hot. The ache in his jaw grows as he tries to maintain the wet suction of his mouth, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t care about anything except taking the next thrust Jungkook gives him, throat making the lewdest noises as it’s invaded.

His mouth can’t get enough of Jungkook’s warmth, the unique taste of him, the feel of his big cock dragging along his tongue and filling his throat as he inhales the undercurrent of his scent in greedy gulps.

“Never—” he gasps when he comes up for air again, his lips kissing the flushed tip of Jungkook’s cock, “Never taken anyone as big as you before.”

Jungkook goes still, his eyes carrying a dangerous glint. He tongues the inside of his cheek, voice growing low and husky. “Yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” Jimin confirms, biting his lip to suppress a needy whine, his gaze fixed on the huge cock in front of him. A blush warms his face, sudden shyness overtaking as he tucks his hair behind his ear with a trembling hand. “I—I like it. I want it, Jungkookie.”

“You have it, baby,” Jungkook rumbles, swiping a thumb over Jimin’s mouth, rubbing the spit on his cock. “I’m giving it to you, mm? I’m being nice. I know you like it.” His breath picks up as Jimin ducks his head to take him again, not stopping until his nose is buried in his pubes, his balls hitting the underside of his chin with a wet little slap as he starts to suck. “Yeah, look at you, you can’t get enough of it. Such a—ngh, fuck, hyung, your fucking mouth—such a pretty cockslut.”

Jimin barely hears the words. He’s in his own world, where only him and Jungkook’s cock exists, where he can suck him off for eternity, where all his anxieties have floated away and it’s just this—just him and the man he loves and the most perfect cock he’s ever seen in his life fucking in and out of his mouth.

The only thing he’s aware of is Jungkook’s hands on him, the one on the back of his head that pushes him down to take his full cock, and the other fisted in his hair that pulls him off when he starts struggling for breath. It’s a new type of bliss, one he’s never experienced before—to be controlled in such a way, to be used, like he’s just a cocksleeve for Jungkook to fuck into.

He can feel himself throbbing and leaking in his jeans, his underwear growing wet and uncomfortable, and he pushes a desperate hand against his cock, pressing down in the hopes of some friction, the need to come enveloping him so bad that he can feel his vision blurring with fresh tears.

His need doesn’t escape Jungkook, who shoves Jimin’s thighs apart with a firm foot, his eyes trained on the aching bulge in his pants. “Show me,” he whispers, voice rough and affected, wrapping a hand around Jimin’s neck to feel his cock moving in his throat at the same time. “Touch yourself for me, pretty baby. Let me see.”

Jimin follows the command mindlessly, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping a hand in, taking hold of his cock and squeezing. The sudden relief has him moaning around Jungkook, who’s stuffing Jimin’s mouth with quick little shoves, his meat working hard and thick between his drooling, spit-slick lips, letting out quiet little ahs that only make Jimin wetter.

“Spit,” Jungkook murmurs darkly, running his tongue across his bottom lip. “Spit on it, Jimin-ah.”

The words make something in Jimin’s tummy flip violently.

He doesn’t bother pointing out that it’s already as wet and messy as it can get. Jungkook’s cock is covered in drool and spit and pre-cum, the mess seeping through his sweatpants and leaving behind a large damp spot. Jimin pulls away with a short gasp, letting saliva pool in his mouth, and then he’s spitting, watching the white bubbly glob slip down slowly until it runs a thick line down to Jungkook’s balls.

The sight makes Jimin throb, his knees shifting restlessly, his hole clenching around nothing as a soft whimper leaves him.

“Good job, baby.” Jungkook grabs him by the chin and tilts his head up, squeezing his cheeks together until Jimin is looking at him. The heat in his gaze makes Jimin shudder. It makes him feel so small—makes him feel like prey that’s willingly walked into a trap. The feeling is enough to make him go a little dizzy, leaving him to blink away stray tears from his eyes.

Jungkook leans down until their noses are touching, until they’re sharing breath, until his filthy whispers are just for Jimin’s ears. “Now you’re gonna let me fuck your mouth,” he breathes, “and you’re gonna take it. Aren’t you, hyungie?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, an overwhelmed noise tearing out of him, hands reaching for Jungkook. “Yes, please. Want your—want your cock, Jungkook-ah, wan’ it so much, puh—please—”

“Shh.” Jungkook kisses the tip of his nose sweetly, pushing Jimin’s cheeks together until his lips are all pouty and squished. “You don’t have to beg. I’ll give it to you, sweet baby. And after,” he runs his nose along Jimin’s, breath hot and heavy against his cheek, “you’ll let me reward you after, won’t you?”

“Reward?” Jimin slurs out, lisping because of the way Jungkook is holding him.

“Mm.” Jungkook’s hand slips down to circle his throat, squeezing hard enough for Jimin to gasp softly. “A special one just for my baby.”

“Yes, please.” Jimin stares up at him with his wet puppy-dog eyes, full mouth pursed into a needy pout, body overheated and trembling. “Want it. Want my reward.”

“Fuck, hyung.” A frustrated growl tears out of Jungkook’s throat, and then he’s standing up and grabbing Jimin by his armpits, hauling him up in quick, snappy movements. “Come here.”

Jimin goes easily, letting himself be guided to sit with his back to the couch, legs sprawled out in front of him. Jungkook is hovering above him now, his large cock bobbing between his muscled thighs. He guides Jimin to tilt his head back on the sofa until they make eye-contact, and need pulses low in Jimin’s belly at the look Jungkook gives him, his mouth parting on its own accord.

He watches Jungkook fist his cock with a large, veiny hand, his tattooed knuckles going tight around the hot flesh, squeezing the life out of it.

Give it to me, Jimin thinks deliriously, his chest heaving under his soft pants, heart pounding against his ribcage. Wanna be good for you, wanna be the best for you, want your come, want to swallow it for you, wanna suck your cock until I can’t taste anything else—

His mind goes quiet the moment Jungkook slips his cock past his lips, and Jimin wastes no time opening wider, taking more of it in, keeping his head angled so it can easily enter his throat.

Jungkook lets out a small hiss, grabbing Jimin’s head with both hands, and then he starts fucking his mouth, moving him back and forth on his cock, making him take it, keeping his mouth stuffed, ignoring the way he keeps choking around the unforgiving girth.

The sounds are filthy, slick little clicks because of how wet Jimin’s mouth is, the glug glug of his throat being invaded, the wet slurping noises as he suckles what he can. They’re loud in a way that makes them echo through the room, in a way that makes his ears burn with shame.

He wants to reach down to quell the insistent ache between his legs, wants to hump against something to find relief, but Jungkook’s thrusts are so rough and unrelenting that all Jimin can do is tense up and take it, his hands clenching into the carpet, tears leaking out of the sides of his eyes.

And Jungkook keeps talking, quiet little praises that drive Jimin up a damn wall, things like fucking hell, baby and you’re taking it so well and you’re perfect, ah, so fucking perfect, and you’re so pretty I could just eat you up, Jimin-ah. His quiet groans and high, desperate moans make Jimin feel like he’s on a high, like he’s listening to a song he’s never heard before, like he’s the one who holds the power here even though he’s getting face-fucked within an inch of his life.

Enough minutes pass for Jimin to lose his sense of time. He feels like his entire being has been reduced to this, like his sole purpose is to be Jungkook’s personal fucktoy. All he can do is stare up at him through bleary, half-lidded eyes, taking in the thin sheen of sweat lining his face and throat, the way his head is thrown back in pleasure, mouth parted around silent groans and quiet curses.

He feels so cock-drunk that he finds himself craving the next time Jungkook enters his mouth, anticipating the next second his huge cock bullies its way into his throat, quiet little breaths escaping him in-between, Jungkook’s cock forcing out filthy squelching noises from his throat as he chokes on it, driving so deep that it makes drool slip past Jimin’s mouth and drip down his chin.

He feels so impossibly wet, wet between his legs and wet down to his neck.

And then he gets to watch it happen—he gets to see Jungkook start to lose control. The way his thrusts grow sloppy, his noises get louder. The way he gets almost mean with it, hissing through his teeth and driving harder into Jimin’s mouth until he’s nose-deep in his pubes, keeping him there, grinding into his throat until he’s gagging. The way his hands fist into Jimin’s hair to keep him still, cock pulsing and throbbing and dripping down his throat.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Jungkook lets out a quiet groan, his hips jerking. “Hyung, I’m gonna—ah, shit—I’m gonna come. Let me—let me pull out—”

No.

Jimin starts whining a complaint the moment he feels Jungkook start to pull away. He blindly grabs the younger by the backs of his thighs, pulling him forward until his cock is stuffed back into his mouth, wedged down his throat in a way that makes it convulse in protest, spit bubbling thick and frothy in the place they’re connected.

Jungkook lets out a startled huff, catching himself on the couch with his hands, giving Jimin a look of half-disbelief, half-heated lust. “Baby?”

Jimin just stares up at him defiantly, blubbering around the heavy weight in his mouth, bringing a hand up to jerk whatever part of Jungkook’s cock he can’t swallow.

Jungkook lets out a throaty groan, reaching down to pet at Jimin’s hair, cupping his cheek with a warm hand. “You want it inside? Huh?”

Jimin lets out an affirmative little mm, his teary eyes fixed on Jungkook attentively. And then, despite the way his sore jaw protests, he sucks like his life depends on it, his cheeks hollowing, swollen and abused mouth refusing to relent, greedy tongue lashing at the underside of Jungkook’s cock, drool pooling hard and fast, rough little noises escaping as his head bobs up and down wetly.

“Fuck.” Jungkook lets out a sound that’s half sob, half growl, his thighs starting to shake, sweat gathering at his temples, his eyebrows furrowing angrily. “Fuck.”  

That’s the only warning Jimin gets before hot ropes of come flood his mouth, salty and a little bitter but dangerously addictive. He swallows most of it, some of it dribbling past his lips to mark its way down his chin. His own cock throbs at the wrecked expression on Jungkook’s face, the way he can’t stop groaning, soft little unhs that make Jimin want to internally combust.

“Stop, stop,” Jungkook gasps out when Jimin still doesn’t stop sucking at his softening cock, grabbing him by the head to pull him off. “Ah, fuck, baby, that’s enough. You did good. Did so, so well for me.”

Jimin blinks slowly, staring up at him in a daze. “Good?”

“The best,” Jungkook breathes out, leaning down to kiss him. “You’re fucking perfect, hyung,” he says against his mouth, and then he’s kissing him properly, deep and hungry and desperate, fitting his mouth against Jimin’s and sucking at his slick bottom lip.

Jimin pulls away with a shaky gasp, eyes wide with surprise. “Don’t—don’t do that.”

Jungkook frowns, confusion flashing through his eyes. “Kissing’s not okay?”

Jimin’s cheeks grow pink. “’s gross,” he mumbles. “My mouth’s all—dirty—”

Jungkook’s expression changes instantly, his jaw going taut. He sits back on the couch and drags Jimin up, tugging him closer until he’s got a lapful of him.

He noses at Jimin’s cheek, inhaling deeply. And then he’s unzipping his jeans with quick, urgent movements and planting a firm peck to his mouth. “Nothing about you is gross,” he rumbles, kissing him again, deeper this time, tonguing the inside of his mouth to make a point. “Nothing about this pretty little mouth is dirty, Jimin-ah. Just looking at it makes me hard, fuck.”

Jimin whimpers, his hips jumping as Jungkook finally, finally wraps a hand around his neglected cock, stars bursting behind his eyes as he tilts his head back in relief. “Ah, please—”

“My poor baby,” Jungkook says quietly, inhaling against the underside of Jimin’s chin, pulling down his pants and underwear until it’s stuck midway down his thighs. “It hurts, doesn’t it, hyung? I’ll make it better. I’ll be good for you. Show me,” he breathes out, almost begging now. “Tell me how to make you come.”

“Just—” Jimin reaches down to cover Jungkook’s hands with his, urging it to speed up, a whiny breath escaping him as Jungkook tightens his hold, swiping a thumb over his cockhead every time he reaches it. “Just this please.”

“What else?” Jungkook prompts, sucking a mark at the side of his throat. “What else do you like? Mm? Tell me. I’ll give it to you.”

“Inside,” Jimin slurs, resting his limp head against Jungkook’s large shoulder as he humps into his hand. “In—inside, please.”

Jungkook pauses, and then mouths a quiet fuck, sucking his fingers into his mouth to make them wet before he’s lifting Jimin up a little and reaching around him, pulling his asscheeks apart to access his clenching hole. Jimin lets out a loud keen as Jungkook pushes in a thick finger with no warning, forcing it in, in, in, giving Jimin’s asshole no choice but to take it.

He huffs a soft chuckle against Jimin’s cheek, pressing a kiss to it. “How are you so tight, hyung?”

“Told you,” Jimin mumbles, sniffling. “Been over a year.”

Jungkook’s gaze burns through him like a physical touch, something dark and possessive glinting in his eyes. “Is this what you like?” he asks quietly, driving his finger in and out now, practically slamming up on the upstroke. The constant in, out, in, press and hold, out, then in again motion is driving Jimin insane. “Being fingered?”

Jimin nods mindlessly, his eyes threatening to roll back as he’s assaulted at both ends. “Hnngh … yes.”

“What else?” Jungkook demands, his breath hot against Jimin’s face. “Mm? Answer me.”

Jimin licks his lip. “Cock.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, like he’s battling his self-restraint. “You like to be fucked?”

“Mhmmm,” Jimin draws out as his ass is fucked open, biting down on a loud, slutty moan. “Like it so, so much.”

Jungkook lets out a hard breath. “Next time,” he promises. “Next time I’m gonna stuff you full of my cock. Won’t let you off until you’re pumped full of my come. Maybe I’ll even fuck you a second time just to see how much you can handle. You’ll take it, baby, yeah?”

“Yes.” Jimin whimpers, feeling so, so needy. “Want it, ahn. Want your big cock.”  

Jungkook pulls his finger out only to push back in with two, making Jimin jump with surprise, his hands flying up to squeeze around his large bicep. “How many fingers?” Jungkook asks gruffly. “How many fingers does my baby like?”

A flush makes its way down Jimin’s neck, making him hide his face into Jungkook’s shoulder shyly. “Two is okay.”

“Oh?” Jungkook is fucking him ruthlessly now, fingers driving in so hard that they force out wet little squelches from Jimin’s hole, his fist unrelenting around his dripping cock. “But how will this tight little ass ever take my cock with just two, hyung?”

Jimin cries out as the fingers locate his prostate, his hips undulating rhythmically as he rides Jungkook’s lap, teeth finding the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt. “You can—you can do three.”

“Three?” Jungkook taunts, pulling out only to smack his hole in a way that makes Jimin whine, not even giving him a second to process before he starts finger-fucking him again. “How about four? How about,” his whisper is pressed against Jimin’s ear, his tongue flicking out to lick over his earlobe, “all five?”

“No,” Jimin whines, low and pitiful, his entire body growing tense as his orgasm approaches, hole convulsing needily, the tip of his cock so obscenely wet. “Will—will hurt.”

“I bet you could take it,” Jungkook coaxes in a low, dirty murmur, though he still only gives him two. “I bet you’d fucking beg me for it.”

“Ngh, fuck.” Jimin stills, his core pulsing, heat pooling humiliating fast in his belly as he grapples for purchase. “Jungkook-ah, I’m—I’m gonna, oh—”

“That’s it,” Jungkook breathes out, as overwhelmed as him, looking enraptured by whatever he sees on Jimin’s wrecked face. “Give it to me, baby.”

Jimin hiccups, tears pooling in his eyes as he ruts forward. And then Jungkook takes the head of his softening cock and shoves the tip into Jimin’s hole, and the sheer weight of it, the way it stretches him open, the way it feels—it sends Jimin catapulting over the edge, his eyes rolling back into his head, mouth falling open on a loud moan, his toes curling on either side of Jungkook as he comes all over his tattooed hand.

“Ungh, sorry, I just—” Jimin pants, shaking all over, his fingers tightening around Jungkook’s shoulders. “It just felt too—too good.”

“Shh.” Jungkook kisses his cheek, the tip of his nose, his slick mouth. His hand runs a soothing hand down Jimin’s side, helping him come down from the earth-shattering orgasm he just experienced. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, pretty baby. I’ve got you.”

Jimin buries a low, frustrated groan against his chest. “I hate you.”

The chest under him rumbles with soft laughter. “What did I do?”

“You’re too perfect.” Jimin frowns, pouting now. “Why are you so perfect?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, as if he finds him ridiculous. He plants another big kiss on his head, as if unable to help it. “Are you perhaps talking to yourself?”

Jimin’s chest grows warm with affection. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Jungkook asks lightly, patting his side in question. “For helping you break your year-long chastity streak?”

Jimin leans back to glare up at him. “That’s not—”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s smile is so, so handsome, giving way to his dimples, his face endearingly boyish. “What else was it?”

Jimin harrumphs. “It’s hard to find people I can actually trust, you asshole.”

“It’s the same for me,” Jungkook agrees easily. “I haven’t had sex in almost two years either.”

Jimin gasps, slapping his chest. “And you have the audacity to make fun of me!”

“Of course I do, hyung.” Jungkook’s eyes are bright with laughter, but there’s something soft there too, something that makes the inside of Jimin’s chest feel all soft and gooey like the inside of a chocolate chip cookie. “Annoying you is my main job. I take it very seriously.”

“What about bangtan?” Jimin asks, yawning, blinking up at him drowsily.

“That comes second,” Jungkook says, face dead serious. “Everything comes second when it comes to you.”

“Oh.” Jimin blinks, then blinks again. “Um.”

Jungkook wings an amused eyebrow. “Um?”

“You’re important to me, too,” Jimin blurts out, red in the face. “And—and I want to keep doing this.” Then he panics and adds, “That is—I mean—only if you want to, of course.”

“Mm.” Jungkook pulls him into a long, wet kiss, keeping him in place as he takes the time to devour his mouth. When he finally pulls back, Jimin is a gasping mess, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Need you to sit on my face next time.”

Jimin’s face bursts into flames. “That’s not—that’s not happening—”

Jungkook simply laughs, loud and obnoxious, dragging him back against his chest. “We’ll see about that, baby.” He smacks a loud, affectionate kiss against Jimin’s cheek, which makes him melt instantly. “We’ll see.”