#Top Jungkook | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tkvkfanfics · 11 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

!!! CHAPTER 6

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ↝ Taehyung was painfully aware of the truth; life was never free. Every decision he made had a consequence, and it seemed clear what price he would have to pay if someone got to know about the true character of his and Jungkook's relationship. However, he had come this far and there was no turning back or throwing it away. Sadly, he wasn't too brave either.

↝ Taehyung's and Jungkook's relationship right under the nose of obviousness.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪ��ɢꜱ ↝ taekook, idol⥏ taehyung x idol⥏ jungkook ↝ idol⥏ taehyung x original male character ↝ straight namjoon ↝ namjin, idol⥏ namjoon x idol⥏ seokjin ↝ idol⥏ seokjin x original male character

ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⥏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ↝ mature 18+ ↝ angst, homophobia, explicit sexual content, self-realisation

ᴛᴀɢꜱ ⥏ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ↝ secret relationship, slow-burn, awkward first times, awkward romance, complicated friendships, taehyung forgets he should play a detective, ↝ idolsAU, BTS 2016

ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ

ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢʏ

It was official, Jimin wasn’t speaking to him. Not even acknowledging Taehyung’s desperate looks and gestures to talk it out. Jungkook had been right all along; the longer they avoided talking about it, the harder it would be to resolve their issues. The situation was already complicated enough, and Taehyung couldn't help feeling guilty for being frustrated with Jimin's silent treatment.

And Jungkook’s reassures that Jimin was too shit-faced, as if that was the right way how to speak about his hyung, to remember anything, weren’t helping at all. Because why else would Jimin scoff every time Taehyung as much as mentioned Jungkook’s name even if it was something as innocent as answering who he thought was the cutest member among them?

Taehyung just didn’t understand Jungkook’s calmness, as if it wasn’t him with his dick out and lewd expression spread across his face while his hips were moving in the rhythm of Taehyung’s hand, when Jimin’s voice pushed into their intimate space all of sudden.

He didn’t believe his friend was fighting with the headache that came as an outcome of his poor drinking habits, as Jungkook suggested, either. Because whose hangover lasted for over a week?

Taehyung was about to look over his shoulder, but stopped at Jungkook’s low grunt when his head, resting on his chest, moved, but his eyes remained closed, only a wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened and his lips pouted, as if the middle of Taehyung’s chest wasn’t as comfortable as the place right under his left collarbone. Taehyung could feel the sharp metal, he knew was adoring Jungkook’s ears, as a hard stud pressing against his sternum and he smiled when he noticed the second earring from the pair glistening in the glow of the setting sun.

Taehyung liked to lose track of time watching the grey-blue sky changing into bright orange, waiting patiently until the stars weren't visible above the city, but experiencing the performance while caressing the clouds was his most favourite so far. Surrounded by the shaky walls of the plane cabin, the time surely stopped making sense. What if they were stuck in the never-ending second?

He could have left his eyes on the hills of white and his mind tasting the imagination, yet the sound hitting the back of his seat again painted everything in ashen tones, falling on his ears like intrusive hues of electric blue and red. Distracting. Taehyung didn’t know since when he could sense colours behind the tones, but they felt like a halo glowing around the sound. Most of the time, Taehyung felt frustrated with his own world, or more with the inability to explain and lack of understanding. He always deserved, or that was what society made him feel, a double look when the words that made someone stop to think, left his mouth.

Taehyung noticed Jimin's eyes narrowing as he peered into the dim corners of their cramped surroundings. He couldn't tell if Jimin was watching him through the gap between their seats, or inspecting the way the light faded into shadows. Either way, it reminded Taehyung of Yoongi's judging gaze, more than Jimin's usual cold, unimpressed stare. The slight clucking noise Jimin made with his tongue added to Taehyung's nerves as he shifted in his seat. It seemed like even without words, the disapproval in Jimin's eyes was enough to make Taehyung feel fidgety. Jimin usually craved resolution after his stubbornness faded into the loneliness of a passing time.

Their gazes met and even before the white flickered between the brown of Jimin’s pupils as he rolled his eyes, Taehyung could sense the same vivid hues of intense blue, glowing through the tension, locating the guilt inside his soul. It was the tension itself. Sensing the opportunity, Taehyung could feel his lips parting.

“Ji-”

He thought this was also what Jimin was waiting for, the peace and place, and the quiet cabin of the plane, kidnapping them from the time they could spend with their families during this holiday season, where everyone’s snores were the sounds of their exhaustion, seemed to be the right time.

But a low sleepy hum, vibrating through his chest and down to his stomach, where it spread the warm brown comfort, slammed his teeth together before the emotional whisper of “-min,” could get Jimin’s attention.

Taehyung looked down at where the seed of safety and love was planted and found Jungkook moving his head, nuzzling under his chin for relief after waking up.

“Are we there yet?” he grunted lowly, the rasp of his voice sent chills down Taehyung’s spine, before his eyes opened and he pulled out an eyebrow over the blemish white on the grey fabric of the hoodie Taehyung was wearing. “This is mine,” Jungkook said, but his tone was lacking the accusation. He fisted the thin material around the zipper and let it go again. Distracting, the way Taehyung could feel Jungkook’s nails scrapping on his skin through his clothing, was distracting.

When Taehyung turned his head to look at Jimin’s face through the gap again, he found him with a sleeping mask over his eyes, resting his head on the backrest of his seat. Taehyung sighed.

Taehyung was happy to have Jungkook’s eyes and touch on him again, after the phone, glued to the boy’s attention during the morning, had stolen him from his arms. It was nothing like Taehyung to wish they could turn off the aeroplane mode on their devices, so Jungkook could busy himself with whoever’s messages were competing with his quick responses again. All the pettiness, coming from neglect and resulting in him throwing Jungkook’s favourite piece of clothing over his shoulders for attention, forgotten in order to speak to Jimin.

“I have been wearing it since morning,” even if Taehyung’s voice wasn’t tinted with disbelief and a sprinkle of annoyance, the remark had to be strange enough as Jungkook’s head was no longer a weight over Taehyung’s heart.

“Have you?” Jungkook wondered aloud and as soon as his curious fingers got lost on Taehyung’s clothed body, probably smoothing out the creases his head had left, Taehyung pushed Jimin to the back of his mind.

Something about the silence surrounding his and Jimin’s relationship provoked him to argue loudly to fill out the void with noise and distraction. Taehyung was chasing the neon red, not noticing it substituted for anger.

“I am serious,’ he said, crossing his arms over his chest only to pull at the same fabric Jungkook was running his eyes over, ‘I’ve stolen this from your closet, and you notice now?”

Taehyung watched as the corners of Jungkook's lips twitched, biting down the traces of amusement, he leaned his head against his seat, mimicking Jimin's gesture without knowing, he chuckled softly, “You are jealous,” Jungkook said as if he could read through the memories active at the front of Taehyung's brain. Jungkook's hand reached out. It felt flat on Taehyung's belly, right under his folded arms and he drummed his fingers, testing Taehyung's weak abdomen muscles under the stolen hoodie. “My mum would be flattered,” Taehyung saw how a laugh bobbed with Jungkook's throat but before it could spread his mouth wide and show his teeth, it blended with his subtle teasing.

“What?”

The digits knocking their own rhythm on Taehyung's most vulnerable place stopped, to think about another melody. This new one seemed to play on the background of Jungkook's heavy sigh, “I promised mum to visit them on the eighth. She said hyung with her are already there.” Jungkook's shoulders slumped as soon as he mentioned his brother along with his long-term girlfriend.

Taehyung knew better than anyone else how draining and not worth it felt for Jungkook to compete against the mental shadows his older brother, the favourite child in his parent's eyes, was casting. Junghyung seemed to be everything Jungkook was not; a model student, constantly striving for the greatest, proudly wearing the shiny batch pinned to his sweater in the least subtle way. He was also a devoted son, softly kissing his mother's cheek every holiday season or in between. And now, from what Jungkook had told him, he was prepared to marry the love of his, and his mother's life.

“I left a text before going to bed last night, that I wouldn't be able to make it, hoping she would read it when we are on the plane. But well...” the laugh he was restraining for so long finally found its way out in a burst of something that tasted bitter in the air. The underlying pain in Jungkook's voice awoken a regret pushing Taehyung’s words and actions under the shameful light. He should have known, the atmosphere of the approaching New Year (Seollal) could be sensed in everyone’s mood for weeks now; ever since January started to bend down its last days.

The holiday season had always been the hardest for them, as nothing could brighten up the reality better, or maybe worse, than fireworks of celebrations hammering their colours behind their back and on photographs where longing was present in their families' eyes. Not even the best editors could fill up the hole their absence had left, no matter how convincing the photoshopped pictures looked.

“Kookie, I am sorry,” started Taehyung.

“Hyung, it’s fine. It’s not your fault you have a loving family. Your mother probably wouldn’t even mind if you introduced,” suddenly he halted, looking down at their intertwined fingers on Taehyung’s stomach. Taehyung followed his gaze, wondering if the warmth of his palm and grip of his fingers was Jungkook's silent seek for comfort and reassurance. Without thinking, Taehyung gently squeezed Jungkook’s hand, holding it tighter in his own. “Me, when we are as old as Jin hyung.”

It was at that moment, with their hearts beating in sync, that Taehyung suddenly realised the true reason behind Jungkook's undying desire to come out. Namjoon would be the first step.

“Jungkook-ah,’ called Taehyung and straightened his back, looking right at the younger's face, ‘don't tell me, all this time, you wanted to come out just to win this nonsense fight with your brother.”

He searched for answers in the depths of Jungkook's eyes, in his gaze fixated on their hands and on Taehyung's rising belly. And there, behind the lack of concern and what Taehyung understood as nonchalance in his posture, he saw vulnerability. Jungkook looked desperate to prove that he was not worse than Junghyung, that he too could bring someone home and be loved by his family.

Jungkook didn't respond for a while. He brought his bottom lip out, only to bite down on it right away. His eyes seemed to be flickering between the truth and the words of conviction he could offer to Taehyung.

“Kookie?” Taehyung murmured softly, his voice barely a whisper against the background hum of the plane cabin.

Finally, Jungkook let out a breath, he regained the strength in his voice hinting at protection, “Hyung, you don't have to worry. Have you forgotten what I told you? If you're not ready, I no longer want us to come out.” Only this time, Jungkook misread the crease between Taehyung's eyebrows or the dampness of his palms coated in cold sweat. Taehyung wasn't worried about himself.

“But the question is, hyung, would you do the same for me?”

For a moment, Taehyung allowed himself to return to his old fears, only to find out they had never quite faded. The ignorance only made them more radiant, blazing to the point he could feel them on his skin, melting the walls of protection, the truth of untold. Taehyung could never bring a boy to his parents’ house, lead him through the threshold of their acceptance.

“I...” he didn’t mean to hesitate, but he couldn’t let the truth free either.

Jungkook's fingers spread wide, he turned Taehyung's hand over and returned the squeeze; his grip gentle yet firm. “It’s alright, hyung,” he said simply, his eyes filled with love.

დ

The weather over Japan’s largest islands seemed to be made for today’s evening event. Taehyung remembered the encouraging blinks of stars wishing him the best of luck when he pressed gently on his ear to secure the in-ear monitor and with the countdown of the collected voice of the audio engineer, he took the first smooth step to open tonight’s performance. Jungkook’s hand, hidden in the shadow of his back, patted his butt slightly, stealing his breath but pushing the flush over his make-up, bringing a bit of colour to his whitewashed face. Taehyung looked around but Jungkook’s jacket was already swishing past him, the cold wind filled Taehyung’s lungs with fresh cheering. Hoseok by his left squatted down as soon as Jungkook sneaked a thumb-up behind his back pointing towards the sky with his readiness all while Taehyung’s heart was soaring, filling his chest with pride. He loved him with such intensity that it felt almost physical, every fibre of his being was becoming stronger just to endure the feeling. Witnessing Jungkook's confidence grow with each of their show charged him with such joy that he wanted to scream from the rooftops. He could do so now, the manifestation of his happiness would be covered by the audience. He chose to smirk instead and pushing one knee forward he sat on the heel of his other foot lowering himself to Jimin’s level who was already leaning over his bent knees, heels on the floor. When darkness faded into light, hugging Jungkook’s alone figure in the middle of the big stage, the boy’s back reflected on the surface of Jimin’s eyes before it switched into determination with one blink. Jimin’s fingers flexed, a subtle betrayal of his restlessness that didn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung’s attentive eye. He knew Jimin wanted tonight to go smoothly, just as everyone else.

Two songs in, everyone noticed but they chose to ignore when Jin’s voice broke in the middle of the verse. His cheeks turned pink and his hand shot up to scratch his neck, but as the melody of their song continued to push the excited screams out of the people’s throats, he had to swallow the burning ache scraping inside his neck. When Jin’s fingers brushed past Taehyung’s in the midst of the spin, Taehyung’s hand lingered, longer than the fast rhythm allowed him to, longer than when he felt at the top of his spirit to tease. A tight supporting squeeze stretched a tired smile on Jin’s lips, but left Taehyung three steps behind.

In the corner of his eye, Taehyung saw Jimin lifting up his hand to fix the microphone hitting his chin with his every jump. He stuck out his tongue to wet his lips before he opened his mouth and as the rehearsed lines made the teenage girls in the front row put a hand over their hearts over Jimin’s sweet angelic voice, he hovered his foot over the stage floor, his arms followed in a graceful, elegant sweep, as if tracing an invisible arc through the air, the palm of his right hand was meant to connect with Taehyung’s over their hands to form a heart shape. Taehyung was already late, throwing his body while his legs took a jump, he wasn’t sure why he suddenly hesitated, throwing off the carefully choreographed harmony. Jimin, expecting the presence of fingers curling around his wrist, found himself alone in the spotlight, their movements out of sync. Taehyung’s misstep was subtle, almost unnoticeable to an untrained eye, but within the dynamics of the group, it spoke volumes.

The big smile turning Jimin’s eyes into two lines wavered and when he turned around, curling his body until it didn’t disappear behind Yoongi’s confidently approaching figure, already spitting out his powerful words, the shape of Jimin’s teeth became visible under his skin as he pursed his lips. Taehyung couldn’t chase away the grimace for the rest of the song.

დ

Taehyung could not only feel the buckets of hot sweat pouring down his back and front, but as it seeped through his clothes and stuck them to his flushed skin, he could smell it in his nose. He needed to sit down, a minute would be enough, his body was whispering to him, but at the same time, he knew if he let his knees bend, feet rest and lungs exhale, he would not be able to finish, not even continue. So he kept on pacing, walking in a circle, with his hands on his hips and head resting low on his neck, making the life of the girl they had hired as a make-up artist impossibly harder.

“Don’t overdo it,” warned them Namjoon five songs before, pulling his tank top up to hide his collarbones, before the eruption of excited screams under the light had sent them to their routine. However, as Taehyung glanced at Namjoon now, leaning over his trembling knees while another girl was jumping frantically around him with a hand fan, Taehyung felt a sudden need to scoff.

“Hyung, slow down,” Jungkook had whispered to him when they met in the middle of the stage, moving like one man. Taehyung remembered throwing him a half-reassuring smile before the next tones of a song had separated them again. But Jungkook was on his knees now, only his shaking shoulders were keeping him from kissing the dirty floor. Taehyung could hear his breathy whimpers while Jimin, purposefully maintaining eye contact with Taehyung; the screams of their fans seemed to fade into the background as Taehyung and Jimin held each other's gaze, was gently pressing ice packs at the back of his neck and forehead.

It had been quite some time since Taehyung’s legs had given up under him, turning his previously functional limbs into long, useless tubes flailing helplessly around his body. He didn’t plan to faint tonight, he was confident that even if his mind shut off, his muscles would continue to guide his footwork flawlessly.

A small and fluffy, but powdery, bristles of make-up brush were patting at his nose, masking the natural glow of his skin and a mole at the tip of his nose under the matted layer of something creamy and skin-toned. Taehyung lifted his hand, attempting to wave it away, but another one, slim, cold and somehow shaky grasped him around his wrist.

“V-ssi,” sighed the make-up girl impatiently, pinning his arm back to his hip. She let out a tired exhale, dragging her feet from the sofa to the wall and from the wall back to the sofa, following Taehyung's back. “Can you please stay still? I can't work properly if you keep moving around like that,” she scolded him, her frustration seeping through the gentle tone they advised her to approach the idols with.

“This is taking forever. Just finish up quickly,” Taehyung muttered, his impatience breaking through. The makeup girl paused, looking at him with a mix of surprise and irritation. Only Taehyung couldn't, he ran a hand through his hair, damped with sweat, hesitating before an uncalled anger, coming as a product of exhaustion, could snap at the innocent girl trying to earn good money any further. He knew he would be bathing in toxic guilt while the sheets of his hotel bed would be trying to bring him comfort a few hours later.

“Taehyung-ah!” Namjoon called out, his voice tinted with a hint of relief as he finally gained control over the sweet unconsciousness hovering with a threat above him. Taehyung’s expression remained annoyed, he couldn't even force a smile on his lips as he jerked his head towards the sound of the voice.

Namjoon was sitting on the floor, his knees bent on either side of his body, his ankles moving in half circles, letting free a quiet pop every time they reached their range limit. “Can I talk to you real quick?” Taehyung noticed the white traces of saliva, dried with water around Namjoon's mouth, breaking into cracks as he spoke.

The girl still dancing on her tiptoes around Taehyung fell on her heels in defeat. She pulled at the corner of the black cloth she threw over his shoulders earlier, and it slid off his body. Taehyung let her leave, collecting her make-up products, before he reached for the nearly empty plastic bottle and squatted down to his hyung, balancing close to the floor unsteadily. Namjoon's expression turned grateful as he tightly gripped the bottle, it made a sharp crunching sound under the pressure of his fingers wrapping around the plastic. He took deep gulps of the refreshing liquid, some of which dribbled down his chin.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean to be rude, but I won’t say sorry when she,’ Taehyung’s body followed the sharp jerk of his shoulder, pointing towards the girl looking around the chaos if someone didn’t need her help, ‘doesn’t know how it feels. You understand me hyung, right? I can’t sit down or else... or else.” It felt odd turning his thoughts to the voice-out words already past his tongue.

Taehyung nearly missed the lingering gaze Namjoon had left over his shoulder and even if a surprise prodded his curiosity when Namjoon said, “This is not about Wooyeong noona,” (because since when was Namjoon not only familiar but also close with the staff, Taehyung was sure he had never seen the girl’s face before), the next words falling on his ears made it irrelevant, “You need to get it together, Taehyung-ah,’ Namjoon was speaking with an impatience blended with disappointment in his tone, ‘Whatever is going on between you two, you are both professionals for fuck’s sake.”

Taehyung's muscles tensed, it was a primal reaction, he built up his defence with attack locking his body. He glanced over at Jimin, still uncomfortably close - as if he was provoking him - to Jungkook who was holding himself on his elbows and toes. The fabric of the dark blue bag resting close to Jungkook’s hairline had to be warmed up by now, as Taehyung could not spot a single droplet running down his skin and to the collar of his jacket. But Jimin's palm was pressing down on the round white plastic lid sewed at the top nevertheless in his desperate attempt to keep Jungkook's overheating body under control.

Namjoon continued, “We've all been through tough times, personal or otherwise. But when we're out there, on that stage, we need to be a unit, Taehyung.” Jimin shot Taehyung a look, there was a distant glance in his eyes as if he was piercing through his physical form made of flesh, blood and bones and could see something beyond him. Taehyung turned around quickly to catch a glimpse of what Jimin saw, but only Namjoon's intense gaze met him.

“ARMYs look up to us, and it's our responsibility to give them our best. Whatever it is, sort it out later. Right now, focus on the performance.”

Taehyung could see Jungkook's lips moving, probably a breath of soft 'Thank you,' teased the bared skin of his own forearms while his eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay open. Straining against his own weight, he shifted onto his one arm -the sharpness of his elbow bored a mark in the exact shape into the rubber yoga mat- and reached for the blue ice pack pressed against the protruding bone of his neck, muttering something again. Jimin finally leaned backwards, sitting on his heels, he lightly tapped Jungkook's back, but hesitated at the sight of the skin exposed by his rolled-up shiny top. While Jungkook was using the playtime with blue creases of the ice bag as a distraction from the ache, Jimin said something with a gentle smile causing his eyebrows to rest on either side of his eyes. Taehyung noticed him gesture towards where Namjoon and himself were standing. Jungkook tensed at the motion, his tired shoulders becoming stiff...

“Are you listening at all?” Namjoon sighed with impatience, frustrated by Taehyung’s lack of focus.

Taehyung blinked, his mind snapping back to the present where Namjoon’s dry fingers were rubbing against each other in a loud snap in front of his face.

“Sorry hyung,” Taehyung murmured, subconsciously mirroring Jungkook’s movement of rubbing the back of his neck. “One unit, no fighting,’ he repeated, ‘I’ll try my best, hyung.”

დ

Taehyunng swore he did his best. He could cover the left side of his chest with his palm, even pat it while the hollow sound of his palm meeting his body would be used as emphasis. He could yell the same if his throat didn’t feel so raw and his tongue too big for words to make any sense. He knew Namjoon would listen, he had already been watching Taehyung’s feet stomping their way down the stage stairs, stopping him on the last one with a hand on his shoulder. Taehyung remembered how his eyebrows lifted up but before he could voice out the question, the other members were hurrying them up, all of them ready to get rid of their sweat-drenched clothes and to crowd the cars taking them to their hotel.

“I tried!” cried out Taehyung, bending down to pick up the single pillow from his bed and burrow his face into the subtle floral scent of clean sheets in frustration. The whimpers of his stubborn truth could be heard along with another set of angry stomps.

Maybe the sound muted by the rug caused Hoseok to pop out his head from the bathroom door with hair still bubbly from the shampoo.

“Taehyung-ah, you alright?” he asked with a mix of concern and confusion. He brought his hand to scratch the side of his cheek, but suddenly paused and furrowed his brows. “You've got to be kidding me,’ Hoseok exclaimed, ‘I just shaved this morning!”

Taehyung’s head snapped up, the movement so sharp and unexpected that his hands were too slow to catch the pillow falling to his still lifting feet. Hoseok’s eyes looked too red from the hair product irritation, glistening as a white creamy substance on his eyelashes, to notice something rushing through the air, but a thud got his attention again and he squinted at the blurry figure standing a few feet away from him. He repeated the same words.

“Yes, hyung,’ Taehyung's lips stretched into a forced smile, but a genuine one raised his mouth corners once he realised Hoseok could probably hardly recognise his nose from his eyes, ‘Go wash your hair. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He waved his hand dismissively, gesturing to the bathroom. “Just need a quick shower and some sleep.”

I am tired was an answer to every wonder or concern. I need a bath or hot water will do me good was an accepted form of solution, not questioned by anyone. Everyone knew it as a temporary band-aid to all the problems. While all of them were aware of its true excuse origin, they continued to use it, trapped in the circle of avoidance.

“Ah,’ chuckled Hoseok awkwardly, patting his hair full of white foam, ‘this may take a while. Noona said I should let it sit for ten minutes before washing it out,” he bit down on his bottom lip apologetically, careful not to collect the purple shampoo on his tongue.

“But I heard Jungkookie already took a shower before dinner. He has room to himself, remember?” Taehyung didn’t think Hoseok noticed the way his shoulders slumped nor how his lips pushed forward in a pout, but that was just who Hoseok was - always good at reading emotions and offering solutions. “I don’t think he would say no to you.” The wink Hoseok gave him was most likely a reaction to more shampoo gathering at the corner of his left eye.

Before the heat in Taehyung’s cheeks, threatening to paint his face in the colours of secret, could give him away, he quickly bent down. He was aware Jungkook had already let hot water and a pair of precise hands, massaging the shower gel into his red sweaty skin, clean him. Those were Taehyung’s own hands after all, working the younger’s body up and bringing it back down from the high at the same time in the hot passionate steam. Burning down the adrenaline with desperate touches easily became Taehyung’s favourite type of release. However, he couldn't let Hoseok find out about it.

“Oh really? How could I know that?” he laughed awkwardly, still preferring the flower petals embroidered with golden tread on the pillow case over Hoseok’s eyes. He could feel his hands sweating as he traced the round shapes of the patterns.

“He uhm... he said that?” Hoseok finally wiped away the slimy fluid from his eyes, studying Taehyung’s face. “Weren’t you blushing the same way when he did so though?”

Taehyung didn’t blame Hoseok for his confused tone, but he wished to punish his own mind for running wild with thoughts of Jungkook. He quickly shook his head, hoping the images of the naked torso, glowing in its whiteness in the dim light behind the shower curtain, would dissolve into thoughts that felt more faded compared to the pink embarrassment.

“No, no,’ Taehyung’s voice cracked slightly, ‘It was just food. You know I can't tolerate the spicy,” a nervous chuckle was back.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow sceptically, clearly not convinced by his weak attempt to excuse the crimson that could rival a ripe tomato.

“If you say so,” he shuddered. He seemed to decide not to press any further. Instead, he reached behind the door and grabbed something, “Well, if you need that shower,’ Hoseok’s voice was coming muffled by the walls and closed door, ‘Go ahead and use Jungkook’s room.” When Hoseok returned, he had a towel in hand, Taehyung noticed how the snowy-white cotton was wet around the edge and it seemed to absorb some of the purple pigment. Hoseok pressed the dry and still fluffy part to his hairline and then slid it down across his face. When his eyes came to light over the fabric again, they were watching him with expectation.

A mirror was fixed on the wall next to the flimsy wardrobe, showing Taehyung’s secrets as the creases of his muscles and the hues on his skin. Taehyung knew he had to leave before Hoseok set his gaze on the same reflecting surface.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung nodded, whispering a quick bye to the elder, leaning against the doorframe and keeping an eye on his back. He walked towards the entrance, accompanied by the sound of Hoseok's slippers squelching as he made his way back to the bathroom to rinse out the shampoo before his hair lightened too much.

Taehyung couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation but also guilt at the same time. Guilt clung to him like a suffocating fog, threatening to consume him whole if he didn't stop lying to his friends.

His hand was already on the handle, the sound of creaking door as they opened after a light press, died away in a splash of water hitting the base of the bathtub.

“Taehyung-ah, wait!”

Taehyung froze mid-step, yet his heart refused to stop pounding; his chest began to ache. As he looked behind his shoulder, opening his eyes wide in an effort to see through the bathroom light, he tried his best to keep up the facade.

“Hyung?”

“Can you check if Jungkook has any shaving cream?”

Taehyung's shoulders sagged with relief.

“Of course, hyung.”

დ

Taehyung was aware his memory usually didn’t walk hand in hand with his orientation sense, but to walk into the wrong room was too much even for him. As if the keycard Jungkook had given to him disappeared from his hand and slipped from his mind; and maybe it really dropped to his feet, the moment his eyes adjusted to the halo of lighting surrounding the single bed in the far corner.

Jimin was curling into himself on the top of now messy sheets. Despite the blanket he was pulling up to his chin by the tight grip of his trembling fingers, Taehyung recognised the stiff fabric of jeans he was wearing during dinner peaking where the blanket was too short to cover his ankles and feet. His hair looked to be stuck with a white layer of product that was crusting exactly the way when was worn for too long and the black mascara rolling dried to his cheeks was staining the pillow lacking the white-golden pillowcase. Jimin brought the back of his hand to wipe his swollen eyes when the sound of beeping announcing Taehyung’s entrance startled his peace. He raised his head, showing the marks deepening into the red pliant skin of his face and his lips parted either to mute the hiccup pressing on the muscle of his diaphragm or to voice out his surprise, but instead, his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“Oh, I am sorry.” Taehyung hands were already high in the air, emphasizing his apology by the pinkness of his palms. He was not that obvious to not understand the quiet sniffing and Jimin’s raw bitten bottom lip meant he was crying. And while he knew Jimin hated drowning in his misery alone, Taehyung thought he was probably the last person Jimin wanted to see right now.

He turned around, feeling how his sock twisted on the bottom of his heel, bowing his head in shame at what their friendship had become, however, a familiar bag that looked to be thrown carelessly by the leg of the desk caused him to freeze. His arms were still pulling the bottom of his pyjama top up, revealing the hem of his underwear above his sweatpants, when he turned back to face Jimin stretching for his phone on the bedside table.

“What are you doing here?” He pulled an eyebrow up, recognising Jungkook’s Bluetooth speakers that he liked to carry around, placed all around the room and an empty camera case hanging from the handle of the wardrobe by the strap and pulling the door open.

The bottom of Jimin’s phone, crushed in his fist, was pressing against his hip when he stood up, as if he didn’t want to stay any longer. “I should go,” his voice was trembling the same as his knees he was bending to walk past Taehyung.

It was right then and there when Jimin’s left hand, sizing up the device so their bodies wouldn’t have to touch, swished past him that Taehyung had decided. He had never been like his grandma, believing in faith and reading too much into innocent signs, but as Jimin tripped over the bag Taehyung left thrown on the floor of Jungkook’s hotel room before going for dinner, he could no longer see Jimin’s tears dried on the pillow as a coincidence. Taehyung suddenly felt glad Jungkook’s shoulder had the best bones to cry on, even if on another day, jealousy would be felt tensing his muscles.

“Jimin, wait!” Taehyung breathed out sharply, his legs were already spinning him around. Looking at Jimin’s back, he stretched his arms in front of his chest, feeling the thick air around his fingers while he continued to bend them as if the movement could pull Jimin into his arms.

Jimin didn’t turn, but he wasn’t trying to escape anymore either. By the light shifting of the collar of his T-shirt from left to right across his shoulders, Taehyung could guess he was playing with its hem. Bowing his head until a hump above his neck wasn’t showing between strands of his hair, a breath seemed to get caged in his throat. “Yeah?” he couldn’t hide the surprise behind his whisper.

Maybe the room could sense the seriousness of the situation, so it tried to keep its always there buzz to a minimum, or Taehyung wasn’t aware of how attentive he had become.

“I...” he began swiftly, saliva bubbling the future words, only to gulp down. He often felt like he needed a manual on how to navigate through life. How to wake up just moments before his alarm went off so the furious beeping wasn’t present in his ears until late noon. How to find the right balance between the food he ate and the energy he gave away. When to put on a smile, let out a laugh, scream in frustration, or shed some tears. And most importantly, how to ask for forgiveness when the weight of his mistakes became too much for him to bear alone.

“I am sorry, ”as he hung his head in shame with his arms falling helplessly at his sides, Taehyung whispered an apology.

Jimin remained silent, his blue T-shirt highlighting the sharp angles of his shoulder blades. The room felt suffocating, as if the walls were hurtling towards Taehyung at great speed, cutting off any thoughts of escape. He swallowed hard, feeling guilt scratching at his throat.

“You’re sorry?” disbelief was slipping past Jimin’s tongue like venom, poisoning Taehyung’s blood, running through his veins with quickly dissolving naivety. “Taehyung, I thought we say everything to each other. We promised to not keep secrets after what had happened last year. And yet-” Jimin’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears he tried to blink away. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers and shook his head before speaking again, sticking out his tongue between his teeth like he needed to push out all the weight on his soul. Taehyung realised that maybe their friendship wasn't as fragile as it seemed, and that Jimin had been carrying some of the burden himself. "I thought you needed time," Jimin continued, voice strained. "I thought you weren't ready to talk about what happened that night or that hyung had forbidden you from telling anyone. But then I found out Jin hyung knows more about you than I do." Taehyung winced, hearing echoes of broken promises that tortured Jimin every day as he looked at Taehyung's face full of lies. He was too humble to point fingers at Taehyung, but too proud to continue walking down a path they had paved with pillars of the shared opinions.

“Jimin, I...,’ Taehyung took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words, ‘I screwed up, okay? I messed up so badly, and I didn't know how to face you. I was scared, Jimin, scared that if I told you the tru-”

"You think hiding it from me would hurt any less?” Jimin's voice suddenly rose in anger, no longer a hushed frustration but a loud roar of blame. “That finding out from someone else,’ he gestured wildly with one hand behind himself, pointing at no one and everyone at the same time, ‘would somehow be easier to handle? Taehyung, we promised each other.”

“I know,” Taehyung's voice was strained, his emotions threatening to spill over if didn't bite his tongue soon. But he couldn't care less, if the flood had destroyed the mask the fear was offering for free for Jimin to see, he would let himself drown, even without guarantee Jimin would again fight the waves for him. “I know we did, and I can’t explain why I did what I did back then. It was...’ Jin’s words suddenly pushed from his memory, ‘dumb, careless, dangerous. I never meant to hurt you.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he took a shaky step closer, watching his leg trembling indecisively but with desperation to bridge the distance he could feel only growing between them. However, Jimin turned away, burying him under the surface of cold water with wooden planks and splints.

Taehyung took notice of the conflict screwing the muscles of Jimin’s face before his hair hid his eyes. “But you did hurt me, Taehyung. You left me alone, wondering where you were, what happened. You can’t just disappear like that without a word. I was worried sick. And then...” Jimin's hands balled up into tight fists, a clear sign of an attempt to restrain the betrayal washing over him. “Seeing you with Jungkook... it felt like a punch in the gut.”

Taehyung's hand trembled as he reached out, his fingers hovering in the air before finally brushing against Jimin's shoulder. His eyes were hopeless, avoiding the pain in Jimin's gaze. “I am sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, but with each repetition, his words grew in meaning. “With you, with us.” Yet, when he looked back up at Jimin, there was desperation fighting back. “I should've talked to you, explained everything. I was just too scared.”

Jimin’s shoulders tensed under Taehyung’s touch, but he didn't pull away. Jimin finally turned to face him, tears glimmering in his eyes. “Sorry for what?’ he asked, ‘For pushing me away? For not talking to me? Scared of losing me? Because, Taehyung, you're doing a pretty good job of that on your own.”

“I regret it every day,” Taehyung hurried to explain, his own eyes mirroring the pain in Jimin’s.

Silence sat heavily between them. It left a bitter taste in their mouths, the aftermath of an argument. It could be broken only by the sound of Jimin’s heavy sigh, “Taehyung, I need time,’ he said slowly, ‘You think saying sorry will make everything okay? Do you think it erases all those weeks you ignored and lied to me?”

With a final glance at Taehyung, Jimin turned and walked away, leaving Taehyung standing alone in the room lit only by the lamp on Jungkook's nightstand table.

“Fuck.” Taehyung sank to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest, only his arms didn't feel strong enough to hold them in the pose he felt the most miserable in until Jungkook didn't return to his room an hour later, mumbling something about bad camera's quality. Taehyung raised his head, he could barely see the figure leaning towards his curled self through the swollen skin of his puffy eyes pushing into his vision. Jungkook squatted down, combing his fingers through Taehyung's hair.

“Hey,’ Jungkook whispered gently, ‘What happened? Are you okay?” his voice soothing but cautious at the same time, wrapping Taehyung with support and understanding for whatever would come.

With a sniffle, Taehyung's lips wobbled, “I just... I don't want to lose him, Kookie. He’s my best friend,” Taehyung exhaled a shaky breath, the weight of his mistakes still heavy on his shoulders.

დ

Taehyung pushed Jungkook’s hand, tickling his side or belly when he shifted in his sleep, off his body. It joined the crumpled blanket, the only divider between their heats, on the mattress. Sizing the fabric in his fingers, Jungkook’s breathing became more laboured, perhaps he could sense the absence of Taehyung’s skin under his palm even in his sleep. Maybe he could still feel the phantom of his dreams, but Taehyung let himself wonder if Jungkook ever returned to their shared memories behind his closed eyelids.

Looking at the wrinkles pulling his eyebrows together, Taehyung thought Jungkook was going to wake up, but then he cleared his throat and his forehead smoothened again. Turning on his other side, he brought the blanket over his torso.

Taehyung pushed his chin up, boring his head into the pillow squashed against the headboard until he couldn’t feel the protesting strain, he let the unknown sounds of the hotel, sleeping but being awake simultaneously, lure him back to the kingdom of no worries.

Taehyung sometimes became fleshly in the fantasies his mind was making; he was more than a feeless observer sensing everything physical through the memories of his awake self. Just as the handle of tonight’s promises came into contact with his hand, a sound from the outside world made everything disappear.

Hobi hyung, thought Taehyung wearily, listening to the steps creaking where the rug was too short from the next room. He recognised the rhythm of Hoseok's stride, the way his left foot dragged slightly and his right foot landed with a soft thud. It was a sound that Taehyung knew too well, having spent countless hours dancing in the same practice room.

He suddenly remembered Hoseok asked him to look for shaving cream. With a sigh, he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed his upper body up. He faintly remembered the schedule looming over their early morning and knew Hoseok would not stick his head out of their room until his cheek would not be baby-smooth again.

As he pushed open the bathroom door, a faint scent of lavender mingled with the steam from the shower they had taken together, wrapping him in an atmosphere of peacefulness.

The room itself was flawlessly organized, every item was placed carefully just as Jungkook preferred it. Toothbrushes stood upright in a holder on the sink counter, their bristles pristine and untouched. A stack of neatly folded towels lined the shelf next to the shower, each one folded into a crease-less tower. The clothes he had nearly ripped from Jungkook's body earlier were hanging over the ladder radiator next to the socks Taehyung recognised as his.

Taehyung glanced around the bathroom, his eyes landing on a bag sitting next to the sink counter between the plastic tube of soap and a razor. It was a small plain white cosmetic bag. Even if Jungkook was a simple man, Taehyung thought it didn't look like one he would use.

The material felt smooth and sturdy under his fingertips as he hurried to unzip it. Rummaging through a variety of skin products; bottles of toner, moisturizer, and face masks - their labels gleaming under the soft bathroom light, all of sudden, his eyes widened and a crimson red spread across his cheeks. Nestled within the bag were condoms and a bottle of lube.

#taekook #vkook #taekook au #vkook fanfiction #taekook fanfiction #taekook fanfic #vkook fanfic #taehyung #jungkook #idol taehyung #idol jungkook #taekook smut #switch taekook #bottom taehyung #top jungkook #taekook fluff #taekook angst #secret relationship

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disneymagics · 1 year ago

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Chapter 7 of The Hunter and the Komiho is now posted on AO3. Link Below.

#bts fanfic #jikook #bottom jimin #top jungkook #fanfiction #bts #jungkook #jikookau #kookmin #kookmin au

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twinkminnie · 1 year ago

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꒰ kookmin drabble ꒱ 18+

dilf jungkook x neighbor boy jimin - 3.7K

jeongguk doesn’t know how it got to this. he's fucking married. he shouldn’t be doing this.

⚠︎ content warnings: cheating, afab jimin, vaginal sex, blowjobs, spanking, cunnilingus.

MDNI

no matter how wrong it is and how badly he wishes it to stop, jimin seems to be able to play him like a fiddle to get what he wants. jeongguk doesn’t want to be a liar. he doesn’t want to sneak around behind his wife’s back. he doesn’t want to be a cheater.

he’s never been one to take infidelity lightly, but jimin has been able to lure him in and transform him into an unrecognizable version of himself.

he would say he wants to it stop but he doesn’t want to lie.

he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. not with jimin being so jimin.

it started with that coincidental conversation a few weeks ago.

jeongguk was in the driveway, unloading groceries that he’d picked up for his wife who wouldn’t be home until much later due to work.

these days, she began returning up later and later more often than not. jeongguk had come to terms that he would be eating dinner alone during the week. even on the weekends, jeongguk noticed the little ways she avoided his touch and ran to her office the first chance she got.

he should be able to empathize with her claims of heavy stress and not being in the mood. for the most part, he could, but jeongguk found himself bored. nothing was stimulating. not television, golf, gym workouts, or meeting his friends for the occasional lunch.

they had new neighbors move in next door about a month ago, the parks. the older couple only had one son, jimin, a bubbly pink-haired university student who drove an obnoxiously loud and expensive racing car his parents must have gifted him.

until that day, jeongguk had only gained a few glimpses of him, exchanging polite waves or quick good mornings and good evenings.

but this day was different. jimin was passing by, offering jeongguk help to bring in his groceries after seeing his lonesome struggle.

jeongguk had eyed him warily, subtly studying his tight shorts and crop top, dolled up in cute makeup that made his already plump lips appear fuller and glossier. jimin had batted those dark lashes at him, grinning cheekily as he stepped closer.

he had laughed at jeongguk's initial reluctance, pouting with his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest that had jeongguk gulping from the slight bounce of his breasts.

“come on, i can’t be neighborly?”

after a moment, jeongguk relented, nodding. “sure, thanks for the help. i’ll show you in.”

after unloading and putting away the rest of the items, jimin hummed, trailing his fingers along the long hallway that led into the kitchen.

“such a big house for just you and your wife,” he observed, eyes surveying the high ceilings and crown molding, “must get lonely.”

jeongguk grunted in agreement. “i guess you could say that. she works more than me.”

his sneakers squeaked on the tiles as he turned in jeongguk’s direction. he was leaning on the counter, watching jimin subtly move closer and closer until he pressed himself to jeongguk’s side, all rosy cheeks and lithe legs. this close, a black script tattoo peeked from under his crop top.

those brown, bambi eyes had caught jeongguk’s attention, though. he found himself swallowing thickly as jimin’s fingers ran up his arm, tracing along his toned biceps bulging from his short sleeve t-shirt. jimin gave him a close-lipped, teasing smile as he inched closer.

he didn’t know what jimin was trying to do. he knew jeongguk was married, so why did it feel like he was trying to make a move on him?

“you know what they say about loneliness.” jimin breathed, his dark lashes fluttering.

he smelt like a delicious blend of pastries and peaches along with traces of his coconut shampoo wafting from his pink hair. jeongguk found himself subconsciously leaning forward, inhaling more of the concoction of sweets.

his eyes twitched, actively fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and run his hand over the creamy, smooth skin of jimin’s cheek. he wanted to caress the deep cupid bow of his top lip.

he had to quickly divert his attention in an effort to rid his brain of the indecent train of thought.

“uh n-no, what do they say?” jeongguk answered, crossing his arms over his chest to contain himself.

placing one palm over jeongguk’s chest, jimin leaned forward until their lips were only a breath away from touching. jeongguk could feel his cock fattening in his sweatpants alarmingly fast.

he smiled, an adorable crooked tooth digging softly into the plump flesh of his bottom lip. “it makes you horny.”

that snapped jeongguk out of his aroma-induced trance, “what are you on about - “

jimin’s lips were on his before he could finish. a soft, gentle peck, wet with his cherry-flavored lip gloss. subconsciously, his tongue swept over his lips to taste the leftover, sticky gloss. he had closed his eyes without thinking.

giggling when he pulled back, jimin’s hand traveled to the rising tent in jeongguk’s pants, rubbing over his erection through the material.

he jumped, startled at the forward move, and pushed his hands away.

“i-i’m married, jimin. stop it.”

his soft, taut stomach brushed against his forearm.

he sighed and frowned, “jeez, don’t you wanna have a little fun?”

jimin had slowly cornered him against the counter, grinding their crotches together as his thin arms hooked around jeongguk’s neck. clearly, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

jeongguk turned his head away, deliberately trying to ignore his growing arousal. his arms hung uselessly at his sides as jimin pressed closer, making the sweetest noise in the back of his throat as he continued to grind in small motions.

he couldn’t deny jimin was beautiful, with his doll-like features and fat, round ass that already had jeongguk weak and salivating. still, he knew this was wrong. he squeezed his eyes shut, urging his common sense to take control of his body and shove jimin away.

“no one has to know,” jimin whispered against his neck, hovering with teasing breaths, and lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks, “it can be our little secret.”

jeongguk’s mouth is frozen. maybe the best response is no response.

“come on, daddy, i know you want to fuck me. the evidence is pressed right up against me,” jimin nibbled his jawline as he brought jeongguk’s hands to rest over the mounds of his ass cheeks. arousal boils under his skin at the sound of jimin’s honey voice calling him fucking daddy. his hands twitched where they laid on jimin’s ass. the soft fat spilled from the denim shorts, perky and creamy smooth.

jimin licked the shell of his ear, adding, “i might even let you rough me up a little.”

fuck it. it’ll only be one time.

“fucking brat.” jeongguk hissed, turning his head to the side to meet his gaze.

he roughly cupped jimin’s ass in his hands, loving how they filled his large palms perfectly. rocking back into the touch, jimin mewled at the rough nails digging into the meat of his ass.

“you love it.” jimin breathed, surging forward on his tippy toes to slot their open mouths together in a filthy kiss.

jeongguk brought jimin closer, cock teasing the outline of his cunt through his shorts. the kiss ignited a feeling jeongguk hadn’t felt in a long time. years, even. he felt wanted.

sucking jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth, his hands traveled to the waistband of jimin’s shorts before shoving his hands underneath to fondle his bare ass. jimin responded with a beautiful moan.

the next second, jimin was dropping to his knees, nuzzling his erection through his pants and staring up at him with lust-blown eyes.

his hands found their way into jimin’s pink hair as he tugged jeongguk's cock free from its confines.

jimin’s eyes widened at the sight of the thick length, flushed red and leaking at the tip. jimin gripped him by the base, easing his mouth around the head to give it a gentle suck.

plush pink lips widened around his girth, a sweet moan vibrating from jimin’s throat. messily, jimin popped off his length before saying, “does your wife not realize how lucky she is to have a husband with a cock like this?”

jeongguk’s heart skipped in his chest at the mention of his wife.

“let’s not talk about her while we’re doing this.”

jimin gave him a smug grin before moving along jeongguk’s length, smothering the entirety of it with lewd open-mouth kisses, the sensation of his velvety tongue and copious amounts of spit had fire spreading in jeongguk’s gut.

it had been too long since he had a blowjob.

“why?” jimin kitten licked the head of his cock. “all i know is that if you were my husband, i’d wake you up with a blowjob every morning.”

jeongguk huffed through his nose, tugging jimin’s head back. he didn’t want to think about how lovely that idea sounded.

“stop talking already," he ordered instead, "it’s not gonna suck itself.”

jimin laughed but got to work, swallowing his length down in one go, bobbing his head as his eyes brimmed with jeweled tears. grunting, jeongguk’s thumb caressed the boy’s flushed cheek. he admired jimin’s skilled mouth slobbering over his cock. he didn't care how messy it was. jeongguk had never seen someone so cute look so obscene.

“you like having daddy’s cock down your throat?”

jimin moaned loudly around jeongguk in response, his tongue flicking devilishly into his slit and sweeping over his frenulum.

when he noticed one of jimin’s small hands disappearing into his little shorts to rub his pussy and make the sweetest mewl, jeongguk broke. he pulled jimin off, tugging him impatiently by the hand toward his bedroom. jimin followed along, giggling at his urgency.

when they got past the door, jeongguk threw jimin on the bed unkindly, undressing completely before joining him on the mattress. jimin gave him a stare that had adrenaline charging through him.

“gonna fuck me on the same bed you fuck your wife?” jimin whispered as jeongguk climbed on top of him, their foreheads nearly touching.

he roughly discarded jimin’s crop top, fondling his exposed, perky breasts as began to devour jimin’s neck with a trail of hickeys.

“when are you going to be a good boy and shut your mouth?” he muttered in between sucks.

his mouth traveled to jimin’s breast, locking eyes as he wrapped his lips around one of his sensitive, brown nipples. jimin gasped cutely, hands fisting the sheets next to his head.

“as — as soon as you give me a reason to.”

jeongguk bit his nipple for that, two fingers tweaking and pulling the other nub not encased by his blazing hot mouth.

jimin rutted forward, grinding his pussy on jeongguk’s thigh slotted between his legs. eyes fluttering at the delicious pressure against his clit and pleasing sensation of teeth dragging along his nipple.

“so desperate, huh?” jeongguk murmured, leveling his face with jimin’s equally flustered one, pressing his thigh harder against jimin’s cunt. “riding my thigh like a whore.”

“just want you to fuck me, daddy,” jimin breathed, sensually flicking his tongue over his reddened bottom lip.

one of jeongguk’s calloused hands skimmed along the smooth plane of jimin’s stomach before dipping beneath his shorts to cup his warm, soaking-wet vulva. jeongguk raises his brow at jimin when he feels complete, bare skin.

“hm, no panties?” jeongguk murmured, leaning down to nip at jimin’s earlobe. “little brat wants to get fucked that bad?”

jimin nodded furiously, a cute furrow creasing between his manicured brows.

jeongguk leaned back on his haunches, forcing jimin’s hips off of the bed as he ripped the teeny pair of shorts off.

he parted jimin’s thighs to expose his pussy, marveling at the peachy pink color of its chubby lips that hid his folds. fuck, he’s never wanted to be inside someone so badly. jimin is the epitome of beauty, young and fun, basically everything the opposite of jeongguk, and he’s asking jeongguk to defile him?

“why me?” he couldn't help but ask.

“older guys like you know how to fuck. i’m tired of the ones my age who can’t make me come,” jimin explained, as if it were the most obvious answer, before adding, “plus, you’re exactly my type. married and sexy.”

with a flirtatious wink, jimin spreads his thighs more, using two fingers to spread his pussy and display the creamy slick gathered at his entrance. jeongguk’s mouth watered at the vision, his body moving on autopilot to position himself between jimin’s legs.

“fucking whore,” he grinned fondly.

jimin squeaked when jeongguk ducked down, lavishing his slit with tender kisses. the contact made his hips jerk and tummy tighten.

“oh,” jimin breathed, hands carding through jeongguk’s hair, watching him flick his tongue along and between his silky folds, using his own two fingers to keep his pussy split open.

jeongguk lapped at his cunt with vulgar movements, humming into his pussy as he tasted the heady sweetness of jimin’s slick.

jeongguk circled his pointed tongue around jimin’s clit, massaging the sensitive bud with increasing pressure. jimin bit his lip harder as his eyes fluttered with the indescribable pleasure of jeongguk’s skilled tongue.

“fu-fuck, eating my pussy so - so good,” jimin slurred.

jeongguk groaned, sucking around jimin’s clit until he saw the boy’s eyes roll back in his head and felt his hips twitch.

“daddy, fuck! there!” jimin’s fingers tightened in his hair as his hips rolled forward against jeongguk’s tongue that’s bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

suddenly, jeongguk lifted his mouth off jimin’s pussy, hastily moving to his mouth for a chaste, dirty kiss.

“no,” jimin whined, pulling away, “why’d you stop?”

“quiet,” jeongguk scolded, two fingers thrusting inside jimin’s cunt with no warning.

arching from the bed, jimin grabbed jeongguk’s shoulders to hold on to as jeongguk’s fingers curled inside him every swift motion inside. jimin found himself entranced by the way jeongguk’s thick fingers fucked inside his cunt, rubbing against his sweet spot with mind-blowing pressure. his tummy coiled tightly with his impending orgasm, pussy squelching with the never ending flow of his wetness.

being with a married man was doing wonders for jimin’s ego.

“look at me,” jeongguk ordered, his thumb returning to massage jimin’s clit, adding to the euphoric feeling that had jimin’s toes curling.

as jimin locked eyes with jeongguk’s darker ones, his mouth opened with a continuous flow of breathy whines.

“you hear your messy little pussy? so fucking wet for me,” jeongguk leaned forward to suck jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth.

after a moment, jeongguk scanned jimin’s face, reading every rapid change of his expression to make him cum.

“just for you -- just this wet for you,” jimin mewled, hips bucking erratically as jeongguk continues to thrust his fingers expertly against his sweet spot.

although jeongguk’s fingers slow their pace, his thumb doesn’t stop its tortuous movements over his clit. instead, his fingers curled against his sweet spot, massaging it with such ferocity that jimin’s orgasm hit him like a speeding train, wracking through his body all at once as he squirted, clenching around his slender fingers violently.

jimin was dizzy and breathless by the time he came down from his orgasm. fingers slipped out delicately as jeongguk trailed tender kisses along his neck.

“did that feel good, baby?”

instead of answering, jimin flipped jeongguk on his back before climbing on top of him, ass resting just above the tip.

“can’t wait any longer. need you inside me,” jimin lifted himself up, positioning his hard cock at his entrance before sinking down on his length.

little hands gripped jeongguk’s chest, reveling in the feeling of the large cock sheathing itself inside his slick, soppy cunt, inch by inch.

jeongguk growled, hands gripping the doughy mounds of his asscheeks as jimin squeezed around him and his brown eyes glazed over with bliss.

the satin walls of jimin’s pussy tightening spastically had jeongguk thrusting upward subconsciously until his hips were flush against jimin’s ass.

“love daddy’s cock, fuck, it’s so big - feels so good,” jimin gasped, throwing his head back as he desperately began to bounce on jeongguk’s length. small, round breasts jiggling with his efforts, nipples peaked from his arousal. jeongguk wanted to pinch himself to check if this was real life.

“god, your pussy’s so tight, jimin-ah,” jeongguk’s hands latched on his fleshy hips, guiding their movements to a hurried pace. rolling his hips up every time jimin came back down, jeongguk repeatedly shoved up, sweat breaking out on his forehead. the feeling of jimin’s cunt was sending him into a lustful frenzy.

“you take it so well you must be a whore,” jeongguk spat, staring where their bodies joined, watching his cock disappear over and over past his soft entrance, engorged pussy lips expanding around the wide girth.

jimin’s hand reached down to rub at his clit, heavy lidded eyes gazing down at jeongguk as short, choked breaths fell from his heart shaped lips, swollen from their kisses.

“can’t ‘elp it,” jimin whined, circling his clit faster as jeongguk’s pace quickened until all jeongguk could hear were his overwhelmed, gasping moans and the vulgar sound of his hips meeting the skin of his ass.

jimin squealed in surprise when jeongguk suddenly slipped out of him and flipped him on his stomach. as jimin’s face landed in the sheets, hands grasped his hips, pulling him up by the waist and cock pushing inside his pussy all at once.

from there, jeongguk set an extraordinary pace, every brutal slap of his hips, his cock reaching deeper. his pussy had grown wetter, his creamy slick drenching the older's cock with a filthy sheen.

jimin mewled happily at the bruising momentum, drool dripping from his lips as jeongguk pounded his pussy mercilessly. his clit throbbed between his legs, only receiving partial contact from jeongguk’s balls smacking against his cunt from his thrusts.

“is my pussy better - better than your wife’s?” jimin taunted as he peered behind him. jeongguk peered back with slanted eyes and a mean frown, the muscles of his chest coated with a thin sheen of sweat.

a stinging grip in jimin’s candy pink hair turned to a yank as jeongguk pulled his head back, forcing the younger to bare his neck and curve his back; fucking with teasing grinds as his cock forged deeper inside jimin’s pussy with the new angle, his lips found his ear.

“your pussy is heaven, baby,” jeongguk whispered before releasing his hold on his hair. he reared back, smacking jimin’s ass in quick succession, admiring how the milky skin turned a bright, glowing pink.

“yes, spank me!” jimin screamed, “just like that, please!”

jeongguk gave each cheek the same treatment, twice over, relishing in each pleased squeal from the boy below him. what a kinky little brat.

“is my dick the best you’ve ever had?”

jeongguk’s palm forced jimin’s cheek against the mattress as he continued his insatiable pounding.

“yes! best dick i’ve ever - ever had! need more,” jimin slurred as his cock hit his sweet spot on every slide inside. “touch me, touch me, touch me, please.”

“touch where?”

“my - ah - my clit, daddy,”

jeongguk smirked at jimin’s begging, flipping jimin on his back before sliding inside once more, cupping his face as he leisurely rolled his hips forward.

jimin’s teary eyes looked up at him, lip trembling. “so close, please -- fuck me harder. wanna feel you for days.”

jeongguk placed two fingers at jimin’s lips, silenting asking for his mouth to open. jimin parted his lips and sucked the fingers in his mouth.

“get ‘em nice and wet for me,” jeongguk whispered huskily, eyes glued to the filthy movement of jimin’s tongue drenching the digits in saliva.

after a moment, he relented, returning to jimin’s hardened clit to circle the tiny nub with his two fingers, newly slick with spit. with the effortless friction massaging his clit mingling with the cock ruining his pussy with his mind-blowing pace, jimin felt like he was going to lose his mind.

“don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” he panted, eyes rolling in his head. jimin could feel the heat coiling in his gut about to snap, the taut muscles of his abdomen clenching sporadically with the overpowering stimulation. his body was being jerked by the powerful thrusts, back gliding up the sheets with the punishing force.

using one hand to wrap around jimin’s neck and the other still relentlessly working over jimin’s clit, jeongguk abruptly thrust against his sweet spot.

that’s all it took for jimin to cum, shaking and twitching as his pussy gushes, spraying slick around jeongguk’s cock still lodged inside him, gasping and babbling curses as another orgasm rips through him.

“that’s it baby,” jeongguk soothed, massaging his clit in tighter circles. whispers fell from his lips, oversensitive as he floated back down from his orgasm; cheeks burning from the realization he came twice but jeongguk hadn’t once.

“wan’ daddy to cum, please, cum inside my pussy - need to feel it,” jimin pleaded, batting his lashes at the older man.

his hips moved on their own, chasing his orgasm while wrapping his larger hands around jimin’s throat for leverage. although jimin’s eyes widen in surprise at his firm grip, jimin quickly succumbed to his erratic strokes as he fucked inside. gritting his teeth, jeongguk felt his own orgasm hit, jimin clenching down with wicked force.

his thighs trembled as he painted the inside of his tight pussy, shooting endless waves of cum within jimin's velvety walls. afterward, he collapsed, releasing his hold on the younger’s neck and kissing him senselessly.

“we really made a mess, huh?” jeongguk observed as took in the tousled and stained sheets under them.

jimin laughed, tucking jeongguk’s hair behind his ear, “the first of many.”

he could admit that he liked the sound of that, even if it made him a horrible husband.

when it became a routine for them, fucking whenever his wife was out or working, on any surface available, for the first time in years, jeongguk felt excited again. he felt young again.

what his wife didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her.

hope u enjoyed this drabble. if you'd like to read more, visit my twitter and ao3 !!

my masterlist

please note: i do not allow translations or repostings of my works without explicit consent from me, the author.

#bottom jimin #bp jimin #jikook #jikook fic #kookmin #kookmin fic #jikook au #jikook smut #kookmin au #kookmin smut #bts fanfiction #bts smut #top jungkook #drabble

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taesjoon · 2 years ago

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Hi hello, it's me again uwu

More thighs pls ;-; dis time Namkook 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Pairing: Jung Kook x RM x Male Reader Dom Top: Jung Kook, Sub Bottom: Male Reader, Switch: RM Tags: Anal sex (Male Reader! Receiving), oral sex (JK! Receiving), choking, marking, princess kink, pet names, dirty talk, aftercare, muscle bunny! JK, muscle koala! RM, degradation

Jungkook and Namjoon sat on the couch wearing shorts that barely reached half their thighs, and it was making you so desperate.

You sat between them, trying your best to be good for them, trying so hard not to touch and grab their thighs, but it was so hard. Your cock was so hard.

"Are you okay, princess?" Jungkook asked sweetly, noticing the way you squirmed and the obvious bulge in your sweatpants. You were starting to think they were doing this to you on purpose.

"I-I'm fine..." you replied, squeezing your own thighs together in search for friction against your throbbing dick.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow and ran his hand up your chest before grabbing your neck, squeezing until you could barely breathe.

"Tell us the truth, darling. You wouldn't wanna make your doms mad, would you?"

You tried to shake your head 'no' but Namjoon's firm grip on your throat stopped you. He waited a few moments before letting go, and you choked and coughed and breathed heavily until you got your breath back.

"Now tell us the truth." he spoke again slowly, his tone threatening.

"Your thighs are so thick and I'm really hard." you rushed out, clenching your own thighs together impossibly harder. But you couldn't touch yourself. You needed to be good for them.

"Oh, my poor little princess... Wanna ride Namjoonie's thigh for a little while? Would that make you feel better?" Namjoon questioned.

You tried to reply, but all that came out was a needy, pathetic whine, your cock leaking precum into your boxers just at the thought of riding your boyfriend's thick thighs.

Namjoon knew he wouldn't get a better answer, so he lifted you onto his thigh, not surprised when you immediately started rutting against him and moaning out desperately.

He moved his mouth to your neck, kissing gently at first before sucking dark hickeys into your skin, wanting to claim you as his own.

"Oh, Namjoonie, look what you're doing to him. This is exactly how pathetic you look when you're riding me." Jungkook mocked, making the switch blush a bright shade of red as he sucked your skin harder.

Much to your dismay, Jungkook then pulled you off of Namjoon and put you on the floor in front of him, pulling his shorts and boxers off and throwing them somewhere in the room.

"Come kneel with your cock against my leg, darling. Suck Jungkookie's dick while you hump him, yeah?" the dom half-demanded.

You couldn't help but obey him, wrapping your legs around one of his and humping it while you licked and sucked at his thighs, leaving him hickeys of his own. Once you were happy with your work, you moved onto his cock, lapping at his balls before putting his cock deep in your throat.

Namjoon leaned over and kissed Jungkook passionately before Jungkook said "Get the lube, yeah?"

You kept lube everywhere at this point; one bottle in every room. Namjoon grabbed your living room bottle, looking at your boyfriend questionably, asking with his eyes what he should do with it.

"Fuck M/N for me, baby. Get on your knees behind him and stretch his little asshole, make him so full, yeah?" Jungkook ordered.

Namjoon's cock twitched in interest and he immediately did as told, getting behind you and pulling your sweatpants and boxers down until they were wrapped around the tops of your knees.

He pulled his own cock out of his shorts and boxers, lubing it up before sliding it against your fuckhole.

"Are you ready, princess?" he asked, as if you could answer with Jungkook's cock stuffed inside your throat. He didn't need your answer anyway, just forcing his cock inside your tight hole, stretching it impossibly wide.

God, it burned. It burned so much. But anything your boyfriends gave you was a gift; you being stuffed full in both your fuckholes, used so prettily by the men you loved.

Namjoon started pounding into your ass, making you moan and moan around Jungkook's cock. The vibrations of your mouth spurred Jungkook on, making him grab the sides of your head and fuck his cock into your abused hole.

It wasn't long before Namjoon's constant thrusting into your prostate and the way your cock slid against Jungkook's leg as he did was pushing you over the edge, making you cum so hard; forcing you to make a mess on both yourself, the floor, and Jungkook.

Jungkook himself wasn't far behind, cumming so deep down your throat that you didn't even have to swallow, making you choke when he finally pulled out. But you'd always want more.

And then, a few moments later, Namjoon was finishing inside your ass, stuffing you full of his hot, white cum as he groaned and told you what a good princess you were being; taking all of him so well.

Once he had come down from his high, he lifted you up and pulled your sweatpants and boxers up, putting his own cock away too. Jungkook did the same before cuddling up with you both, revelling in the closeness this kind of thing gave you.

It was probably close to half an hour later before you had all calmed down, getting up to shower each other lovingly and help each other get dressed.

Jungkook made a bowl of popcorn and put it on the coffee table, sitting down and holding you and Namjoon close to him. Cuddling could've been your favourite part of the whole thing if your boyfriends didn't have such gorgeous thighs for you to ride and hump and grind your cock against.

Once you had all decided on a movie, you turned it on, eating as you watched. But only an hour passed before you were all fast asleep on the couch, holding each other close just the way you were before you fell asleep.

This was perfect. It could never get better than this.

#bts x male reader #top jungkook #bottom male reader #switch namjoon #choking #marking #pet names #dom jungkook #sub male reader #dirty talk #aftercare #bts

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omegaminie · 7 months ago

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Sexy Boy ~ Jikook Au

Summary:

Jimin is a famous BL webtoon artist. While working on a new project, his sex scenes get rejected by his editor because they are pretty unrealistic. To improve his scenes, he realizes he needs sexual experience, so he sleeps with his assistant, Jungkook.

#bts au #bts fic #smut #jikook #kookmin #jungkook x jimin #top jungkook #bottom jimin

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jungkookiegukk · 2 years ago

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~𝙏𝙖𝙚𝙠𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜~

⤷ 18+ fanfic ⤷ kth x jjk | bottom jk , top tae ⤷ Contains: smut, fluff, boyxboy NOTE: This is fictional. Mentions of tool insertions, do not try this at home. (Sorry if it feels rushed, I will put the whole story on Wattpad) >>>Feel free to comment any suggestions and leave a like, it helps me a lot, MENTALLY >>>>*kiss*

Jungkook's POV: "So... you are going to tie me up, huh?" I skeptically looked at the rope in Taehyung's hands. "Of course, your strength is something. Wouldn't want to risk anything." He took my hands into his, beginning to tie my wrists together. Pulling my hands apart to test it, I could tell it was tight enough to restrict my movements. "Sit tight, baby. I will be right back." As Taehyung was already heading to the hallway, I could feel myself getting hard... I knew this night was going to be something new ㅡ nothing bad in it, but after looking into it, it surely looked painful. "And? What do you think?" His voice broke my zone out, drawing my full attention onto his now naked body ㅡ making me even harder against the only pair of boxers that was covering my body.

The sight before me seemed unreal, somehow, I couldn't even believe my eyes. I didn't even notice that my mouth was parted until he came closer, a gentle tap of a finger sending shivers through my body. "Are you afraid, bun?~ " he said while playing with the metal rod between his fingers. His head was tilted, eyes staring into mine. "N-no... It's just- " I stopped, watching his movements as he climbed onto the bed, sitting on top of my thighs. "Yeah? It's just what?" I gulped, shifting my body a bit. "It's a new experience for me, that's all." He laughed softly, placing the tool onto my stomach while he moved his hands to rub my member. His fingers were brushing the tip, forcing to enter between the cheeks and pulling them apart slightly. I whimpered when he started squeezing my length as hard as his knuckles turned white, wetness gathering around my entrance. "Let's see how..." he said, grabbing the metal rod into one of his hands, the other taking the bottle of lube. My eyes were locked on Taehyung's hands, widening as he spread the liquid over tip and over the rod as well. He slid off me and parted my thighs wide, putting each one of them on one side of his waist "Relax now~ " I swallowed deeply as he pushed the first inches of the tool inside me. "Ah-... h-hyung..." My breathes were getting quicker and hitched while he kept sinking the rod further. "Shh, it will get better, Kook-ah." Instinctively, I flinched and tried to close my legs. Taehyung pressed his free hand on one of my thighs, whispering reassuring words all the time as he kept moving the rod inside me at a slow pace. I shut my eyes and bent my head backwards against the bed headboard, trying to control my breaths. A soft touch on my abs made me open one eye and take a peek at what was happening in front of me. One second later, I opened the other and my attention got taken away by Taehyung's tilted head, a smile forming on his lips. Moving my gaze down, I noticed the metal rod was completely inside me, his thumb pressing on its end. "Took it so well, baby." His hand caressed my abs, squishing from time to time. I nodded, squirming my hips. "Tell me if it hurts." He added, before starting to move the tool up and sinking it back in. A moan escaped my lips, bringing a smirk to his face as he fastened his movements, a hungry desire to hear more sounds from me. It was feeling too good and I was getting closer and closer to an orgasm, until he stopped, pulling the rod up and leaving me empty. "Hyung?" Confusion and dizziness were taking over me, my body burning in desire. His hand moved to my nipples, pinching and teasing me as I squirmed and moaned underneath him. I could feel his breath against the tip of my length as he leaned to kiss and lick it. "You're so cute like this, Kook-ah." I gasped and shook my head. "P-please. No teasing... I'm s-so close, hyung." He smirked, lowering his hand my member, holding it in place as he held the rod right above the tip ㅡ yet not touching. "Tell me what you want, baby." I was panting, eyeing his hands and trying to move my hips up. His hand pressed me back down on the bed, forcefully. "Please." He tilted his, enough to make my eyes meet with his. "Please what? Say it, Kookie. You want me to bring up your pretty orgasm? To make you whine? Hmm?" His voice was making me breath heavily, grunting and whimpering until I found the power to form words. "Y-yes... please make me come, hyung. It hurts, please." Patting my lower belly, he moved his hand to my length again, squeezing it as he dug the tool through my swollen hole. I moaned loudly, tilting my head to the side. I had my eyes half closed, pleasure overtaking me.

My whole body was burning and I could feel it pulsing against Taehyung's tight grip. "Rub it, hyung. Jerk me off." My back arched as he moved the rod inside me slowly and started rubbing my member faster and faster. "Mgh- I'm g-gonna..." My lips parted unconsciously as he slid the rod out of me, liquid spluttering on my stomach and on his hand. "Aysh, you're such a mess." He said with a little chuckle, leaning to place a kiss on my cheek and lick my earlobe. A quiet whimper escaped my lips as I saw the liquid covering his fingers. "M'sorry..." I mumbled as he started wiping both of us and lifting me up. "No need for that, you're okay now. Did so well~ " He began untying my wrists and pulling me onto his lap as we started rubbing my still-aching tummy. "T-that feels good..." I breathed out and started relaxing against his body, resting my head against his collarbone.

"I love you, Kook-ah."

"I love you too, Tae-ssi."

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kookminlibrary · 9 months ago

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Walking Through a World Gone Blind by annie_vi

As a budding pre-law student, Jeon Jeongguk thought he had seen it all, until Park Jimin blindsides him in a bar and shows Jeongguk the world through his eyes.

#bts #fanfic #jikook #jimin #jungkook #fluff #angst #smut #top jungkook #bottom jimin #romance #strangers to lovers #blind character #blind jimin #lawyers #over 50k #mature (m)

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tkvkfanfics · 11 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

!!! CHAPTER 5

↝ Taehyung's and Jungkook's relationship right under the nose of obviousness.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ ↝ taekook, idol⥏ taehyung x idol⥏ jungkook ↝ idol⥏ taehyung x original male character ↝ straight namjoon ↝ namjin, idol⥏ namjoon x idol⥏ seokjin ↝ idol⥏ seokjin x original male character

ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⥏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ↝ mature 18+ ↝ angst, homophobia, explicit sexual content, self-realisation

ᴛᴀɢꜱ ⥏ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ↝ secret relationship, slow-burn, awkward first times, awkward romance, complicated friendships, taehyung forgets he should play a detective, ↝ idolsAU, BTS 2016

ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ

ʜᴏᴍᴇ

Jungkook usually could find within himself a power to slap a hand over his mouth, even if imagery, when looking at the bland food becoming even more colour-lacking at the whirling bottom of the kitchen pot. He in fact preferred it over biting down on his tongue, as it more often than not resulted in a painful hiss or surprised gasp slipping past his lips and all his acting and pretence would be, as Jimin would say, not worth the sweat.

But it was the sweat that was cooling down his red face, the only part of his body still aware of the societal shame, as a reaction to Yoongi’s sharp glance he threw at him after Jungkook, with more spice than his hyung had asked him for, said, “Jin hyung would know how to make the dinner look more exciting.”

Taehyung raised his head, his hands comically shaking in front of his face, after the strange feeling of his eyes popping out his eyesockets made him choke on the air, as if he wanted to either catch them before they fell on the table or push them with his palms back. However, with eyes still present over his cheekbones, he couldn’t help but stare at the back of Jungkook’s head slowly moving from left to right in a still there disappointment over Yoongi’s pale broth.

It seemed no one was in a mood this evening approaching night, as the skills of Yoongi’s tongue, usually showing only behind the rhythm or melody of his lyrics, challenged Jungkook’s brattiness. “Oh, really? Jin hyung would know how to make this more exciting?’ his voice was dripping with annoyance, ‘I didn’t know making food look good was,’ he slammed a fist on the counter next to the stove before he continued, 'a requirement for survival.”

Taehyung nearly jumped on his chair when Yoongi took the cutting board from Jungkook’s hands with such force it made the boy fly a step back. The onion Taehyung had precisely cut while Jungkook was offering him tissues dropped to the bottom of the pot copying Yoongi’s untamed anger. Jungkook’s shoulders jerked when the wood hit the walls of the sink with a dull, heavy clunk. He had to take a step back if he didn’t want to be spattered by the hot stream of water hitting the cutting board and splashing from the flat surface. But Yoongi wasn’t done. One hand, bubbling with dish soap, was rubbing off the lingering, tears-producing stink of onions while the fingers of the other one grasped the air dangerously close to Jungkook’s collar as if he wanted to pull him close to spat the threats into his face.

“Maybe if someone else bothered to help in the kitchen,’ Taehyung was as well watching how Yoongi’s fingers curled before the single digit wasn’t pointing at Jungkook’s chest, ‘you would find your excitement here. But I guess gratefulness is not what hyung has taught you.”

Jungkook used to state from time to time, sometimes more casually than not, that Taehyung’s eyes were piercing for details and his ears sensitive for tones of emotions. Taehyung usually waved the seriousness on Jungkook’s face off while trying not to show he noticed how breathless Jungkook’s voice became as if he wanted everyone to share the same eagerness over Taehyung’s boring traits. So he wondered, after Jungkook sent him a quick glance, if he was not the only one who took in a slight mockery in Yoongi’s tone while he addressed Jin.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifted when his tongue found the soft insides of his cheek. He looked over Yoongi’s bones making up his thin shoulder, squinting through the steam of water, close to raise sore blisters on Yoongi’s hands, he set his eyes on bubbles popping around the familiar design craved into wood. Taehyung knew he would have to step forward if he didn’t want to soak the tissues with Jungkook's spilt defeat and Yoongi’s undying stubborn rage. The fight wasn’t over, the words were bobbing in Jungkook’s throat, because there was no reason for Yoongi to yell out his problems and unresolved inner issues at him.

What happened next cut the strings of comprehension leading to Taehyung’s brain. The legs of the chair he was sitting on scrapped the floor with a sound loud and uncomfortable enough to drown out the words moving by Jungkook’s lips, trembling in dare to not bruise his ego. Taehyung’s own mouth was opening and closing, he started speaking as soon as Jungkook took a breath.

“Guys, let’s calm down.”

But the first sound cutting through the sizzling pot set over blue flame echoed before Jungkook’s lungs expanded with air, before Taehyung’s toes bent to find the strength to push his body backwards, yet the human reaction is formed and finished in a millisecond, and even a second is too short to stop the voice from talking and legs from walking. When Taehyung was able to finally halt on his feet, there was only the last step separating him from the fighting duo, and Yoongi’s teeth were gleaming, a tell-tale sign whatever argument Jungkook had about peeling the onions earlier, managed to die.

“Yoongi-yah, that is enough!” even if Taehyung was not able to recognise the authority demanding the attention of voice slicing through the tension, even if the sigh of disappointment would not remind him of the times he himself was on its receiving end, there was only one person living under the same roof who could and had right to call Yoongi so casually.

“Jin hyung!” the surprise was forced out of Taehyung’s mouth before the unclear shadows of a person standing with legs far away from each other gave in to the chandelier light. He was sure everyone in the room could hear and understand the relief shaking behind his sudden yell.

Sometimes Taehyung pulled out his hand from the hold of composure and rather let the emotions intertwine their fingers. Melodramatic.

He could already see his arms thrown over Jin’s wide shoulders, his chin creasing and gathering the material of a beige T-shirt or was it a sweater? Taehyung thought the detail if smooth fabric or rough wool was tickling his neck didn’t matter, until he didn’t blink.

The awkward 'oh' blowing air from his nose and lips put an end to his antics. The light was finally dimmed around the right angles and if he let the click of his elbow joint be announced, the heels of his palms would be teased by the curls of hard bristles growing from someone’s face.

The second had passed.

Jin’s lean but tall figure was towering at least a head above Hyungu unsurely stomping like an explorer or an offer of peace before him. A forced smile of ease was carefully curling upwards while his gaze flickered between the three shocked faces and the bag, taking the shape of something wide and tall, like a falling tower, hiding behind the red plastic, swaying on his three outstretched fingers.

Taehyung was late to gasp. He didn't expect Hyungu to come with Jin, to show up long past the threshold of their place like a bold suggestion to get to know each other. Maybe Taehyung read the morning issue wrong, maybe the pessimism dragged him away from seeing how it could be resolved. He spent a day dreading Jin's broken heart coming to the surface as a rage towards their company.

“Jin hyung,’ Taehyung said again, his voice quieter this time, ‘You're back.”

Yoongi's huff was tired enough to blow an air on Taehyung's ears. It seemed the anger dissolved into annoyance in his demeanour. “You always know how to make an entrance, hyung,” Yoongi clicked his tongue, his tone still a little sharp but lacking the bite it had held before.

Jin chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement, “Here I am.” Taehyung didn't miss the warm spreading gently from his presence.

Jin’s fingers found their way to Hyungu's shoulders and gave it a soft pat, yet it did nothing to melt away the man's nervousness. Taehyung could swear by every tickling minute the unease was growing more visible on his features.

“We brought some food,” Jin's smile widened while his hands travelled down Hyungu's tensed muscles under his sweater, they stopped right under his elbows where the fabric seemed to be a bit loose, and he raised them up. The plastic bag, still hanging from Hyungu's three fingers, rustled when a handle slipped from one long digit. Taehyung now recognised the white styrofoam boxes, wrapped tightly with the protective layers of the see-through kitchen wrap, leaning against the fragile material as gravity commanded.

“Awesome,’ grunted Yoongi from behind, followed by the stubborn, squishy plop of sponge falling to the bottom of the sink, ‘Here you have your excitement, Jungkook-ah.”

Taehyung's turn to catch Jungkook's reaction was long ago programmed in his heart and he thought their hearts were beating the same, looking for the mirror of his own surprise on the boy's face. Instead, he was left with confusion. Jungkook's eyes were on Hyungu, the furrow between his eyebrows had disappeared, only to be replaced by a blank expression he often wore when he was trying to take in too much information at once. His gaze carefully mapped Hyungu's body, ignoring the offer of peace rustling above his head, in his hand.

His expression was unreadable, as if guarding what he was thinking or feeling behind an invisible barrier, his eyes so void of emotion that they seemed to threaten with something powerful hiding underneath.

Taehyung couldn't dive in to figure out why Jungkook seemed so angry.

დ

Jungkook’s hand was on his thigh, hidden under the blanket he had thrown over their bodies the moment the familiar fingers had started to climb up his ankle, using the round protruding bone as a platform to jump up higher his leg. Jungkook’s skin has warmed up, protected from the cold blows of winter throwing an invitation through the ajar door of their balcony where Yoongi disappeared to fill his lungs with calming nicotine. Everyone could smell it even before Jimin pushed back inside, shivering with hands moving up and down his arms. Taehyung didn’t know why Jimin was trying, if Yoongi wanted to be alone, distance himself from Jin and his boyfriend, no one could make him join their party of delicious takeout. Jin’s excitement and Hyungu’s unfamiliar presence were loud enough to scream over Jimin’s arguments, it was also hard to follow the movements of his lips due to white smoke blowing over them whenever Yoongi bit something back.

Taehyung felt almost sorry for the slump of Jimin’s shoulders, the pose of defeat. But then he remembered his lack of trying to save their crumbling friendship. Not that Taehyung was any better, but it was never easy to see ourselves in not influenced light.

Still, Taehyung’s eyes continued to linger. He had already mapped and remembered the ticks of Jimin’s discomfort expressed as joints’ cracks cutting through Jin’s speech, or the regular shifting in his place. The moment Jimin lifted his head, no longer strong enough to pretend he couldn’t feel the burn of Taehyung’s stare, Jungkook’s nails bored into his thigh, calling for his attention.

Under the observant gaze, their eyes locked. Taehyung wished his eyes could be blue like sapphires or green like limes, so the contrast while staring into Jungkook’s chocolate brown could describe the thrill happening in his mind on the outside.

Taehyung counted on time to slow down his heartbeat and catch the butterflies fluttering their wings as adrenalin rushed them to dance in his stomach. But the thrill had always been lingering on the scene, Jungkook's eyes were like an entrance to another world and it was hard not to crave the fields of gentle understanding and rivers of passionate love once he had seen, walked and swum through them. Something powerful seemed to be connecting them even without words said, and it filled Taehyung with a sense of belonging, building up the urge that invaded his veins and called him closer and closer until no space was between them, or maybe it was a grip of Jungkook's warm hand and fingers running along the muscle of his thigh.

When Jungkook's nails ripped the weak strings of his sweatpants, he felt shivers running down his spine. He shifted slightly, wanting to lean in, perhaps the vision of Jungkook's breath on his neck made him reckless, but the sudden cough, resounding in his rush, held him back.

Taehyung blinked and a flush spread into his cheeks, suddenly hyperaware of the bulge over his left leg, rising the blanket that had wrapped around the shape of Jungkook’s knuckles. His thighs parted and he could feel his toes bending and the inside of his calf straining when he reached with his right leg to the end of the sofa, moving away from the boy teasing his inner desires. Jungkook’s palm slid down from his body with a thud meeting the cushions and another coughing fit fell on his ears.

Taehyung lifted his head. His eyes met with Jimin's sharp gaze boring into him with a knowing glint. He knew, just like Taehyung did, what was happening under the blanket.

დ

The moment Yoongi’s whiskey was brought from the cupboard again, the catalyst to Taehyung’s migraines, Taehyung wanted to be alone. He was grateful for his will, stronger than Jungkook’s, to decline Jin’s offer to grease his lips with barbecue while the fire of the last shot was still present on his tongue and making his throat numb.

He placed his forearms over the slippery railing until the wetness didn’t soak through the sleeves of the top he was wearing and with the tip of his slipper, he moved the porcelain container, over which the ashy smoke was slowly dying, closer to the edge. He knew Yoongi would not pat his shoulder from gratefulness if his ashtray ended up as the black shards five floors under them, a thread for the cyclists’ tires and delicate feet protected only by shoes’ soles. But maybe the irritation over his hyung’s unhealthy habit also found its way into his gloomy mood.

The slur of voices and clinking of plates was a muted reminder at the back of his mind that no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible to find isolation where silence would help him to either tidy his thoughts or not think about anything. Taehyung didn’t know what he preferred, to analyse the unholy waves that had been drenching him for the past days, with Jungkook’s touch acting as a moon during flow, or to use the stillness of time and quietness of life as a shield from his embarrassment yelling “Stop thinking about it!” at him. To write down the words of explanation and apology he would have to later whisper to Jimin, or throw his best friend’s knowing look towards the night and watch it disappear behind the shadows until he wouldn’t be alone again without the guilt; Taehyung’s head was spinning. To remind Yoongi of the support Jin was never too shy to experiment with, to intertwine his and Jungkook’s fingers before knocking on Sejin’s office door, to ask Namjoon why he did it, or-

“Teetee.”

The porcelain under Taehyung’s feet rang like glasses touching in cheers, he could feel his knee flexing, swifter and rougher than he intended, but the sting of wires cutting through his sweatpants didn’t hurt as much as the high-pitched shatter of fallen, broken pieces on the pavement's unforgiving surface.

“Shit,” cursed Taehyung, leaning over the railing, the bottom of his ribcage pressing over the metal tube and cutting his breath. He squinted his eyes, trying to recognise what remained from Yoongi’s favourite and the only ashtray among the rotten leaves and plastic bags blown out from the trashcans. He thought he could see the street lamp reflecting on the polished surface of something, but it could as well be a puddle, staying for days and nights, unfazed by the January weather.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he repeated, noting the soggy cigarette bending over the edge of the balcony, one half stuck to the cement by the rainwater, the other one hanging in the air.

Taehyung was about to try and reach for it, but a strong hand grabbed his arm, pulling him back from the edge and short railing.

“Are you nuts?’ asked a stern voice, ‘Are you trying to kill yourself or something?”

Taehyung turned to see Hyungu standing behind him, the knees of his spread legs bent while his pelvis was an awkward touch over Taehyung's butt. He raised an eyebrow and the serious expression wasn't leaving the stern muscles of his face.

“No,’ mumbled Taehyung, shaking his head, ‘I was just trying… Yoongi hyung's ashtray, it fell.” He gestured over the railing with his arm, pointing down on the street, then his eyes flickered towards the last roll of nicotine stick but it was no longer there. “Oh.”

“And you were going to jump down five floors to get it? That's kind of stupid." The second eyebrow joined the mess of hair on Hyungu's perfect forehead. "It's broken,’ he said with confidence stretching his lips into a tight grimace, ‘If it fell, it's broken.”

Taehyung felt his cheeks growing hot and his chin dropped to his chest in embarrassment, a tear of frustration dripped down the tip of his nose.

He could feel the grip on his arm relaxing until it didn't drop by his side again. He didn't even try to move it towards his face to hide his tears.

“What's wrong?” asked Hyungu, his voice concerned but soft around the edges, reaching Taehyung's soul to soothe it, but Taehyung felt like pushing it away. He lifted his shoulders and dropped them back, then raised them again and with a shudder vibrating inside his chest, he sighed, “I don't know,” the words were an inaudible mumble escaping his lips while his eyelashes sent another tear to slide down his cheek.

Hyungu stayed silent, unsurely shifting on his feet, still behind his back, while listening to Taehyung's messy sobs. Jungkook would put his arms around him, hide his head in the crook of his neck so he could smell the youngster's cologne Jungkook hated, but Taehyung loved, and drew comforting circles in the dip of his back where the cotton of his T-shirt met the waist of his sweatpants. Taehyung again didn't know what he preferred. “I… I can't choose,’ he voiced out, aware Hyungu couldn't know what he meant, ‘I can't make up my mind.”

“To choose what?”

This time a wet crackling sensation from the back of his throat erupted into a sob. His hands moved to cover his face, he tried to either push the tears back or to dry them out.

“I don't know what I want,” cried Taehyung through his fingers. “I just want everything to be like before, to be okay but,’ he cut himself to bury his teeth in the flesh of his trembling bottom lip, but no hiss got out to announce the pain, ‘I don't know how. It's scary.”

A laugh pushed a spurt of hot air out of Taehyung's mouth when an arm wrapped around his body, shakily pulling his shoulders against Hyungu's side. Maybe because the body difference between the older man and Jungkook was too big to not notice when only sharp bones were under his bones, or because Hyungu simply wasn't Jungkook, Taehyung couldn't find the safety he felt under Jungkook's gaze, even if Hyungu's words were speaking reassurance.

He didn't know why, and he was not about to admit that aloud, but deep inside his heart, Taehyung was jealous of Hyungu and Jin. It felt stupid to even think about it, but this dumb wish was not leaving his mind no matter how hard he shook his head. Having a relationship revealed would lift the thick air they had to breathe to at least taste the life. Taehyung wasn't naive, he knew they couldn't change the density to feathery to walk high over everyone's heads where the horizon met the sky. Moving the kisses they shared to the sofa to forget about the movie playing on TV would be enough, or stuffing each other's cheeks with the takeout Jin brought tonight. But at the same time, Taehyung understood the reality.

When Jungkook confessed his feelings for him, he was so sure that this was it, the one thing he needed in his life. Now everything was a mess and Taehyung was slowly realising that being who he was, continued to be a burden.

“How are you doing it,” Taehyung brought his hand to his nose and wiped the snot with the back of his thumb, ‘knowing where to step.” He set his eyes on Hyungu, searching for evidence that it wasn’t impossible.

Hyungu pulled back, wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s shoulders, he pushed him towards the glass door. Taehyung could feel the cold melting into droplets when it came into contact with his body's warmth.

The harsh wind started to show on the redness of their cheeks and their clothes felt fresh against their skin. While Taehyung’s hair was a mess following the path of air drift, the curls of Hyungu’s beard did not tremble even if the windows behind Taehyung’s back was rumbling.

Hyungu’s expression turned serious once more, and Taehyung noticed his eyes travelling upwards. The slick surface of the steel roof overhead cast a hazy reflection on his pupils.

“Do you remember when I told you,’ Hyungu slicked his lips, ‘I ran away from home because I realized I had feelings for a man?” With a heavy sigh they returned together to the empty coffee shop a week before last Christmas, Taehyung could almost smell the lingering scent of soju in the air as if the wind had brought it.

“Your teacher?” he mumbled awkwardly.

“Yes, him,’ Hyungu began, speaking slowly and carefully, ‘What I didn't tell you was that rumours were spreading about me back then. I don't even know how they started, but kids that age are surprisingly perceptive.” Hyungu looked down at his hands, they were pink, dry and shaking. Taehyung wanted to take them in his own.

“My teacher told me to study hard and go to Seoul,” he continued, his voice laced with pain as he spat out the name of the city they both now called home. “He said no one would care if I liked girls or boys there. I believed him, but he was wrong.” Hyungu shook his head and turned to look at the night sky behind them.

“I didn't make it to a university like he'd hoped. That first year was a struggle. But eventually, I got a job, my own place, a better job. And I made friends,” he took a deep breath and laughed bitterly. “But when they found out who I really was, they turned their backs on me.” Hyungu looked at Taehyung's hands slowly approaching him and hid his shaking fingers behind the waistband of his pants.

“My teacher's advice was to keep running until I found people who would accept me. But then I thought, why should I run? Why not just be honest from the start? Because in the end, it doesn't matter how close you think you are to someone - their love… it could be all fake, or they thought it was real. So I’ve stopped running. I’ve stopped thinking too much.”

Taehyung's mind struggled to hold onto each word as it slipped away too quickly, maybe even before its sound could shape into meaning in the air before it reached Taehyung's ears. He couldn't help but feel frustrated, unsure of what was Hyungu hinting at.

Taehyung and Hyungu stood side by side, their eyes shining in the light of the sleeping city. As they gazed at the Namsan Tower changing colours, Taehyung couldn't help but feel small and insignificant. The cold January night sent shivers down his spine as he thought about how easily they could blend into the bustling city.

When the steward's voice blared through the cabin, reminding them to fasten their seatbelts as turbulence shook the plane just before landing, trying to remain calm, Taehyung gazed out of the circular window at Seoul's iconic symbol. Its bright lights, flickering all day and night to guide those above the clouds, had promised him home.

The home was what Taehyung saw after he chased away the sleep from his eyes every morning, being home was what he felt before Hyungu cleared his throat again, “I remember freezing on the balcony maybe a year ago, after Sooki closed the door behind me and Kim Namjoon and said, “Please, talk.”

That night I met the man that someone whom I am in love with can’t stop talking about and after I finally left, I thought I wouldn’t see him again. But fate has funny ways of surprising us. Seeing Kim Namjoon in that office this morning… after a whole year, I realised that speaking hypothetically while freezing on a balcony, would not solve anything.”

Taehyung nervously glanced behind his shoulder, meeting the reason behind his feelings. Namjoon hyung was sprawled out on their sofa, his shins resting on the armrest while his hands propped up his head. His eyes were on Jin hyung whose lips were moving in words Taehyung couldn’t hear, but judging by the smiles forming on Jimin's and Hoseok hyung's faces, it must have been a funny story from his tipsy mind. It seemed Yoongi hyung had thrown away his cowardice after Hyungu disappeared onto the balcony and joined Jungkook, whose eyes were fixed on Taehyung as he licked clean the plastic containers, not minding the orange sauce above his upper lip. This was Taehyung's home, but unfortunately, he still felt too afraid.

დ

“Your hands are cold,” was the first thing Jungkook said to him after he joined him inside his empty room under his duvet and wrapped his arms over his waist. Taehyung’s hands were patting Jungkook’s tensed stomach over his black hoodie while his cheek found a comfortable place between the hard muscles of Jungkook’s back. The light from the tiny screen, raised in front of Jungkook’s nose, was too much for his swollen eyes.

Even if Taehyung couldn’t see the colourful images changing on Jungkook’s phone, the youthful woman's voice full of energy one needed if they wanted to entertain (and gain money) hinted to Taehyung what would be the reason behind the dark circles rising under the younger's eyes.

“Your Japanese is already good enough. You've memorized all your sentences,” Taehyung yawned the words into the soft warm material of Jungkook’s hoodie, tasting the wool between his teeth. “Although, I didn't know you were into journaling.” Without moving his head, he could picture the leather notebook gathering dust at the bottom of Jungkook's nightstand drawer since Christmas. Yoongi had suggested that writing could help boost Jungkook's creativity, but the boy preferred to keep his thoughts and ideas locked away in his phone behind a four-digit pin.

“It is easy to pronounce.” Taehyung could feel his head lifting as Jungkook shrugged, and slid down until the bones of his lower back didn’t stop him when he leaned forward. Jungkook’s nose was now nearly touching the screen while he squinted at the characters the lady from the video was pointing at. “Hyung, how do you say composing ?”

Taehyung was sure Jungkook could feel the hot air tickling the bared skin of his back, as he shivered, when Taehyung chuckled softly before answering, “ Sakkyoku. ” The lazy smile that lifted the corners of his mouth didn't feel forced despite the tension of his squashed cheek surrounding the bone, when a hollow sound of a nail tapping the screen twice until the, now familiar, voice of a young lady wasn't cutting through the comfortable silence again, putting stress on each syllable of an expression.

“See, I still have a lot to improve. I want to be the best for ARMY.”

In the buzz of voices trying to imitate each other while the relaxing melody of raindrops falling on the window, in the beforehand agreed on rhythm, was soothing the always there frustration on every language learning journey, Taehyung’s fingers, crushed between Jungkook’s hard stomach and even more muscly thighs, outstretched in order to ease the tingling sensation teasing his blood and oxygen deprived nerves. He furrowed his brows over the grating sound as his nail came into contact with the metallic teeth of the zipper, he could feel every lump trying to even where the nail was cut close to the pink flesh.

Taehyung didn’t know why he thought it was a good idea, maybe because Jungkook appeared unbothered, repeating the expressions he had no chance to remember over a few free nights, despite the obvious pressure against his crotch. He trapped the thin pull tab between the soft parts of his thumb and index finger and was rewarded by the smooth slide when the teeth of the zipper came apart, revealing the elastic material fitting tightly around Jungkook’s hips.

The hitching of Jungkook's breath was the sign Taehyung was waiting for. As if the stopping red of the traffic light changed to blue, skipping the warning yellow, he skillfully popped open the button holding the fabric of Jungkook's jeans together. Jungkook shifted in his arms but Taehyung's hands were too far in the exploring, brushing the heels of his palm and fingers along the fabric of the white underwear and up until the goosebumps didn't ripple across his arms when the sweat of hot skin acted like a grease, helping him to move even further. The dip of Jungkook's navel was throbbing in the middle of his palm. Without thinking, he bent his fingers and pressed down, pulling the pink marks along the path of his nails, tracing along the defined lines of Jungkook's abs.

It was as if someone pressed the button of the remote and turned off the rain, the frantic shallow inhales and exhales of Jungkook's breathing drowned out the sound of his own heart hitting his ribcage with force when his hand slid lower, fingers brushing over the waistband of Jungkook's boxer. Taehyung bit down on his lip, stifling a moan as if it was him tortured by the sweet burning touch. His fingers fell straight, sticking to damp skin and hiding under the elastic band. A breath full of surprise parted his lips when Jungkook's hips bucked into his touch, the muscles in his stomach contracting under Taehyung's forearm and Taehyung's hand wasn't even that low, he could barely feel the pubes growing messily around the base. Taehyung couldn't help but smile, feeling the rush of power that came with being able to make Jungkook feel so good.

Suddenly, Jungkook's hand pushed into the tight space between his torso and legs, he grabbed Taehyung's wrist and pulled it away from his body. Taehyung's eyes widened and his heart, sinking to the bottom of his belly while embarrassment crept up his throat, forgot how to beat.

“Hyung, please stop,’ Jungkook whispered urgently, his voice trembling with lack of air, ‘I am…” the hum was jumping over the sound waves while he tried to come up with a good excuse. Unknowingly, he left Taehyung with a sense of shame as if he had crossed a line. “I am trying to focus,” he muttered before releasing Taehyung's wrist and holding up his phone. The screen was now black, and Jungkook gestured for Taehyung to see.

“And I am trying to distract you,” Taehyung replied, his voice low and husky. He took a step back on his knees, swaying from side to side above the soft mattress, he waited until Jungkook didn't turn around to face him. With shoulders hunched forward, boring his fists next to the inner side of his knees, he sat on his heels, straitening his back. His face was mad red just as Taehyung could feel his own cheeks flushing and when he looked at him, his eyelids were heavy, falling over the glossy surface of his eyes before they closed in a long blink.

“I can't do this now,” he sighed finally, opening his eyes just enough to watch Taehyung's reaction changing from aroused to confused and upset as his bottom lip cast a shaking shadow over his chin.

Taehyung put his hands on the dip of his waist, narrowing his eyes. “Why not? It is you who always does it,” he emphasized, leaning in and nuzzling his nose into Jungkook's neck. He inhaled the sweet scent of his cologne. The heat was still radiating off of Jungkook's body and his eyes fluttered shut as Taehyung pressed a soft kiss to his neck, his lips trailing up to his earlobe, popping a clear bubble when his thirst gathered too much saliva inside his mouth. Taehyung's hand sneaked beneath Jungkook's hoodie, his palm coming to rest on the younger's chest. He could feel the rapid beat of Jungkook's heart, and he knew that he was just as turned on as he was, as if the hardness poking the primal reaction out of his system was not enough proof.

“Kookie,’ Taehyung's voice was thick with desire, ‘Please?”

Jungkook's body was as still as a rock, his eyes settled on something; probably the thick white pain spread over walls, over Taehyung's head, but his lips puckered when Taehyung's hot breath teased them. A whine moved by Taehyung's tongue once it got lost inside Jungkook's mouth, hitting the back of his teeth and pressing against something soft but muscly, something feverish but chilly when the air from his nose snuck between their kiss. The kiss was raw, far away from a peck they shared every morning, but only nearing the desperation Taehyung could feel down his body.

Jungkook's knuckles were rubbing up and down his spine, massaging the skin at the back of his neck or just above his butt between his fingers.

“Wah a'you so,’ Jungkook tried to say, but with Taehyung's teeth pulling at his bottom lip it was hard to form any words, ‘ horny ?”

Taehyung pulled away for a moment, leaving Jungkook to suck in the air. He coughed when the intense smell of arousal got into his airways, nearly choking on it.

“Just let me try,” Taehyung pleaded, staring, as if he forgot to care about his dignity, at the bulge pushing past the opened fly of Jungkook's jeans. He led his hand along the shape of Jungkook's body, lifting his palm until only his fingers weren't tracing what was hiding under the black hoodie.

“Tae,” Jungkook whispered, the butterflies in Taehyung's stomach fluttered over the nickname falling from the boy's lips so effortlessly, “I… are you sure?”

“Just…’ Taehyung shuddered, barely holding himself when the thick muscle of the younger's cock jumped, tapping against the fabric of his underwear, when the warmth of his hand touched it, ‘let me try.”

Seventy millilitres were pumped by each beat of Taehyung's heart. He felt full of blood when Jungkook finally released the bottom lip from the bite of his teeth and, followed by the curt nod, he whispered, “Okay.”

დ

He ignored the tired calls jumping from the walls leading to the corridor where the doors hiding their rooms were promising him the comfort of his bed. Pulling the blanket someone threw over his body when he was flying somewhere between the consciousness of reality and the bliss of the alcohol high, his eyes narrowed while he tried to remember whether he placed the mat in front of his room or not. He shrugged, kicking the slippers off his feet and his breath hitched when the cold of parquets penetrated the skin of his dancer's soles right to his sensitive nerves.

Watching how his arm shot into the air to push onto the handle without his brain noting the movement, made him giggle. He nearly tripped over the threshold when the light push was everything needed for the door to fall open. Holding onto the handle he let his body follow the motion, stumbling inside the room and celebrating when he spotted three beds pushed against the wall.

That was until his senses didn't catch the smell of something other than alcohol or sweat, something he already knew but just couldn't find in himself to recognise it. He followed his nose until his eyes fell onto two bodies tangled in each other's arms. His heart dropped and eyes widened while he watched how Taehyung's lips were exploring the inside of Jungkook's mouth with obvious hunger, without caring that somebody was watching them.

The rough moan and whimpers escaping Jungkook's lips; his voice deep with pleasure as Taehyung's arm was moving up and down along his hips expertly; filled up the room and what stayed unoccupied from his brain. It left him breathless. He was slow to slap a palm over his mouth, or maybe he missed it, as a sting woke up the receptors on his chin.

Their bodies, tangled in the sheets, moving against each other with hands roaming freely, stopped. As Taehyung's eyes fluttered shut and opened again, blinking away the arousal clouding his senses, with fingers still wrapped around the length of Jungkook's dick, he let out a shriek of his name. Jimin could feel himself becoming sober.

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