Chapter Text
Jimin has no idea what he’s doing.
The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t do dates. Yoongi does random hookups at parties and tall boys with long faces, not short undecided majors with chubby cheeks, and yet somehow, Jimin’s sitting here across the room from Yoongi pretending to read from his Biology textbook when actually he’s busy checking out the way Yoongi’s boney fingers look wrapped around a cigarette as he turns a page in one of his thick Psych books. Yoongi’s a better student than Jimin by far. He’s actually diligently reading his chapter while Jimin’s been alternating between staring at the same page and Yoongi’s profile hunched over his book for the better part of the past hour. Jimin still has a hard time believing Yoongi’s stopped sleeping around for him of all people.
And somehow, Yoongi had looked up from his studies as soon as Jimin had entered the room and had said almost too casually, “Let’s go on a date tonight.”
Yes, they’ve been technically together for around a month, but they’ve mostly found themselves in their shared room under the covers more than anything. Now, with midterms around the corner, Jimin’s been at the library more than his own room, and Yoongi’s out doing his Psych internship most days so they barely get any time together.
And now Yoongi wants to go out. On a date. With him.
Jimin’s nervous as hell—he’s only been on a handful of real dates in his life anyways, and most of those people had been out of desperation or pity.
Yoongi’s different somehow. He’d been pining after Yoongi for months, but in the end, it had been worth it. Yoongi’s everything he’s wanted in a boyfriend—attractive, intelligent, surprisingly kind when he wants to be, cute in the smallest gestures.
He’s so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the soft knock on the door at first. It’s only when Yoongi briefly glances up from his work, glasses balanced on the edge of his nose—god, Jimin loves his reading glasses—and asks, “Can you get it?” that he realizes.
The door creaks like it always does when opening, and reveals Taehyung smiling much too smugly for Jimin to feel safe on the other side.
“If it isn’t my best friend in the whole world,” Taehyung singsongs, walking into the room like he owns it.
“Rude,” Jeongguk scoffs as he files in behind him. Jimin doesn’t know why Taehyung and Jeongguk insist on invading his room when they have their own perfectly good one right across the hall, but whenever he asks, Taehyung tilts his head to the side and says, “Ambience.” Like Jimin’s supposed to know what that means.
“I can’t call you my best friend if I stick my dick in you, Gguk.” Jimin winces. If there’s anything he’s learned about Taehyung in the past three months, it’s that he doesn’t have a brain to mouth filter.
“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Yoongi interrupts then, and Jimin wishes he didn’t turn so red when Yoongi drops a kiss on his cheek on his way out.
As soon as the door shuts behind him, Taehyung’s leaping onto Jimin’s bed, knocking his Bio book onto the floor with a heavy thump. Jeongguk perches much more cautiously on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, careful not to jostle any papers.
“So I was thinking,” Taehyung begins, stretching his long limbs out so Jimin has no space to sit, “There’s this party across campus at that sorority and Jin-hyung said it’s going to be awesome.”
Jimin hopes his cheeks aren’t as hot as they feel. “Um, I actually kind of, kind of have something to do tonight.”
Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow and Taehyung widens his eyes back, a silent conversation. Jimin hates when they do that.
“If that something’s Yoongi-hyung, then I don’t think he’s going to miss you sucking his dick for one night.” Jeongguk says dryly.
“I’m not sucking his dick, you asshole.” Jimin presses his lips together thinly and after a second of questioning looks from his best friends, he manages to blurt out, “We’re going on a date, okay?”
“A what?” Taehyung sputters, “Min Yoongi? A date?”
Jimin grimaces. He’d really been hoping that Yoongi’s notoriety for sleeping around had been more myth than truth, but he’s starting to think the stories aren’t exaggerated. He’d also forgotten that Taehyung’s a sophomore so he’d seen Yoongi in all his playboy glory the previous year. Jimin had taken a gap year, had spent the time living with his grandparents by the ocean.
“I mean, I’m really happy for you.” Taehyung corrects immediately, “It’s just, every time I see Yoongi-hyung I think about that time I accidentally walked in on him going down on that guy in the bathroom at the end of the hall.”
“Hyung’s a good guy though,” Jeongguk says decisively, “and you guys like each other a lot.”
Jimin flops down on the floor, tired of standing while the other two sit. “I mean, it’s not like I have a problem with him sleeping around before me. It’s not like he’s doing anything with anyone else anymore. He’s the one who asked me to go out tonight.”
Taehyung hums in agreement and Jeongguk nods seriously. “What are you going to wear?”
“I have no idea,” Jimin says the same time Taehyung crows, “Your mom,” laughing obnoxiously to himself. Jimin chooses to ignore him and continues, “I haven’t done this in forever.”
“I’d say you could borrow something from me, but I think all my clothes are too big.” Jeongguk flexes a leg thoughtfully and asks, “Wouldn’t it be hot if like, you wore some of his clothes?”
“Oh,” Taehyung interrupts, “You know what would be really hot? If you wore normal jeans and like a normal hoodie, but you wear panties under the jeans.” He waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Jimin feel distinctly like he needs to take a shower. “I bet Seokjin-hyung’s got a pair you can borrow. I heard he and Namjoon are into all kinds of shit.”
Jimin shudders and smacks the closest body part he can reach, which just happens to be Taehyung’s ankle. “I’m not borrowing Jin-hyung’s fetishist panties that he’s like, had his dick in, that’s fucking disgusting.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes and Jimin is about to ask for another suggestion when Jeongguk pipes up, “You could ask for the pair from hazing.”
Jimin remembers those panties too well. He tries not to remember his hazing in too much detail. “Why would Namjoon-hyung just keep those panties for three months, Jeongguk?”
“Ah, but you didn’t say no to the panties idea!” Taehyung and Jeongguk team up on Jimin way too often for his liking.
“No to the panties idea.” Jimin deadpans, but somewhere inside his brain, he files away Seokjin-hyung is the person to ask if you need panties.
“You’re so vanilla, Jiminie.” Taehyung complains. Jimin holds his tongue, but immediately Yoongi’s voice growling out cockslut and the feeling of Yoongi’s dick slapping his cheek come to mind. Jimin flushes.
Jimin likes exploring his kinks. There’s a lot of stuff Yoongi knows from experience that he doesn’t; safewords and set limits and ways to tie Jimin up so that he can only kneel on his hands and knees, to name a few, but Jimin’s been into most of the stuff Yoongi’s tried out on him so far. If Taehyung wants to believe Jimin’s sex life is boring though, Jimin’s not exactly jumping to correct him.
“Wear that sweater you borrowed from me last week.” Jeongguk advises, “The one where the sleeves are too long.”
Jimin shrugs and says, “Does it matter what I wear? He sees me dressed down all the time when we’re just hanging out here.”
“Honey,” Taehyung says in a slow voice, “I know some of us think that wearing sweatpants to date night is okay,” here he throws a scathing look at Jeongguk and Jimin has to wonder about the story behind that, “but Yoongi-hyung’s classy and you’re classy and tonight if you don’t look like you go to galas with old rich men for their money, then I’m going to disown you as my best friend.”
Jimin hates how easily he gives in to his friends.
In the end, he winds up in a silky shirt that belongs to Taehyung, which is much too big for his narrow shoulders—“I look like a girly pirate,” Jimin says. “Shut up,” Taehyung says while unbuttoning the top two buttons,—and Jeongguk loans him a pair of ankle boots that look suspiciously like Namjoon’s. If the way half the top of the boot stays empty when Jimin sticks his small foot inside is any indication, it really is Namjoon’s.
Taehyung slathers something glossy and dark pink that tastes like artificial strawberry flavoring over his lips and wipes it off a second later so his lips stay stained and swollen, then examines him calculatingly. “A masterpiece,” he declares.
“A kid playing dress up in his mom’s closet,” Jimin counters. The shirt’s opened enough at the top that his collarbones peek through the silky material and Jeongguk had messed up his hair enough that it looks purposefully windblown. Jimin feels awkward and out of his element.
“A hoe who knows what he wants.” Taehyung insists stubbornly. “Embrace your inner hoeism, Jimin.” He lightly smacks Jimin’s ass and says, “I’m a genius.”
Jeongguk looks up from his phone and glances at him from across the room. “I’d fuck you,” he says like that’s some sort of honor.
Jimin grimaces. “Gee, thanks.” He tries to take a step towards the door and winds up almost twisting his ankle. “I’ll keep everything, but let me wear my own shoes. I’m going to break my neck in these.”
“Do you know how hard it was to steal those from Namjoon-hyung’s room?” Jeongguk complains, but when Taehyung glares at him, he shuts his mouth quickly. “I mean, do you know how hard it was to walk to my closet and get those out, because they are obviously mine.”
Jimin snorts and waves in his general direction. “I gotta get going, I’ll tell you guys how it goes later.”
Taehyung pretends to wipe tears from his eyes and says in an overdramatized voice, “My son, going on his first date. I’m so proud.”
“Wait!” Jeongguk says as Jimin begins to close the door behind him. He runs up and presses something into Jimin’s hand and gives him a meaningful look. “For good luck.”
-
Jimin feels overdressed for all of two seconds before he walks into his room and finds Yoongi buttoning the cuff of his shirt and nearly loses his shit.
Yoongi wears hoodies and sweatpants all the time. Yoongi wears band shirts and basketball shorts and jeans with so many rips that more of his legs are exposed than covered.
But tonight, Yoongi’s wearing a black dress shirt that fits perfectly around his tapered waist and black jeans that fit perfectly down his slim legs. Jimin would be lying is he said he didn’t dig the black on black.
Yoongi smiles up at him, eyes sweeping briefly up his frame, and he says softly, “You look good.”
Jimin feels his cheeks heat up and prays they’re not the same baby pink as his shirt right now. “Thanks,” he tries to say casually, “So do you.”
Before Jimin can clear his throat and ask what they’re going to be doing tonight, Yoongi holds up a hand like he’d read his mind. “Don’t bother asking what we’re doing because it’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?” Jimin can’t help but teasing lightly, “Min Yoongi, planning out a romantic surprise date?”
Yoongi smiles again, a slow curl of his lips that makes Jimin’s stomach churn. “Only the best for you. Let’s go.”
Jimin lets himself be guided out the door, all the while wondering what exactly Yoongi has planned.
-
To his surprise, they don’t go to eat first. Yoongi drives to one of the science buildings Jimin’s never been to and quickly runs out to the other side of the car to open Jimin’s door for him.
“We’re going to be in a classroom for our date?” he wonders out loud as he takes Yoongi’s hand.
“Close your eyes,” Yoongi says softly. In the twilight, his hair is pitch black. Back at the beginning of the semester, when they’d first met, it had been bleached blond, but Jimin likes it better like this. With one last curious look at Yoongi’s face, he shuts his eyes obediently.
Yoongi wraps his fingers around Jimin’s wrist and then gently pulls him along. There are some steps, and then a door shutting behind them. Jimin can’t help but wonder what they’re doing in a school building and why the building’s open well into the night like this. It’s empty except them, from what he can tell by the way their footsteps are the only sounds.
“Okay,” Yoongi says finally, trailing his fingers up and down Jimin’s arm, “Open your eyes.”
Jimin opens his eyes and sees supernovas.
The first thing that comes out of his mouth is a gasp, followed by a hushed, “Where…”
The entire room is pitch black save for the stars all over the dome ceiling, constellations and comets twinkling down at him. There’s something built into the ceiling and it takes Jimin a second to realize it’s a telescope.
“Astronomy building,” Yoongi grins, “Namjoon’s the TA.”
“This isn’t a classroom.” Jimin says, wide eyed. “This is gorgeous.”
“The telescope broadcasts what it sees,” Yoongi explains, “The ceiling’s actually a screen so the astro students can all see what they need to study.”
Jimin’s never been so stunned. No one’s ever done anything like this for him, and even in the dark, he can see that Yoongi’s smiling at him in a way that’s so lovely that he has to take a second to just process.
“I can’t believe this,” Jimin says, still breathless. He curls his hand tightly with Yoongi’s and tries again. “I’ve—I haven’t ever-“
“I’m guessing you like it?” Yoongi sounds a little smug in the way Jimin loves. “Would it make it better if I said I cooked for you?”
Jimin gapes. “You didn’t.”
Yoongi shrugs sheepishly and admits, “No, I didn’t. I don’t think overcooked ramen would be good for our first date. Seokjin did it for me. But I get points for effort, right?"
Jimin’s never been so overwhelmed by affection for anyone.
"I think you're," Jimin pauses for effect, "out of this world."
Yoongi groans but he's smiling too wide for it to be believable. "That was so bad. You’re terrible."
“Well, you’re lucky I’m cute, then.” Jimin spots a blanket on the ground near the telescope and bounds over. “Are we having a picnic?” Spread out across the blanket are paper plates and utensils, along with several containers.
Yoongi hums an affirmation, and then there are arms wrapping around Jimin’s waist from behind. Yoongi noses into the back of his neck and Jimin resists the urge to squirm. “Did you borrow Tae’s cologne?”
“You can smell that?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung had barely spritzed him once before Jimin had protested so vehemently that he’d given up.
“You normally smell softer. It’s nice.” Yoongi mutters into his skin. Jimin tries not to blush. Yoongi knows what he smells like. Yoongi likes what he smells like.
“Did I make you blush?” Yoongi drawls, amused. “You always touch your cheeks like that when you get heated.”
Damn Yoongi and his ability to accurately psychoanalyze Jimin’s every habit. Jimin’s never even noticed that he presses his palms to his cheeks when he’s embarrassed. “Shut up,” Jimin grumbles instead, “I’m not looking for psychology student Yoongi, I’m here for romantic boyfriend Yoongi.”
Yoongi finally lets him go and gestures to the blanket. “Boyfriend Yoongi’s a little out of practice, but he’s trying his best. Sit down and let me pour you some wine.”
“Wine?” Surprise leaks into Jimin’s voice, “Maybe Boyfriend Yoongi’s not as out of touch as he thinks.” Still, he obediently sinks down and takes the glass of dark red Yoongi passes him.
The wine’s crisp and dark and wonderful and Yoongi keeps a hand on Jimin’s thigh the entire time he eats (Jimin files away a reminder to thank Seokjin profusely for the food) and afterwards, when Jimin’s stomach is full and his head is buzzing pleasantly from the whole bottle of wine they’ve managed to polish off, they lay down and Yoongi tries his hand at remembering constellations.
“I swear Namjoon taught me some,” he insists, pointing out seemingly random stars and naming horoscope signs, “But I was so drunk at the time that they all looked the same.”
Jimin curls deeper into his side and hums softly. “They still all look the same.” Yoongi normally runs a lower temperature than Jimin. Jimin’s solid while Yoongi looks like he could be blown away by the wind, but tonight, Jimin thinks that Yoongi’s sturdy, resilient. Yoongi’s firm and soft at the same time and serious and silly and everything perfect.
“Hyung,” Jimin says on a whim. When Yoongi makes a quiet noise in his throat, Jimin blinks up at the star speckled ceiling and gathers his courage. “I like you, like, a lot.”
Yoongi stays silent for a long second and Jimin screws up his eyes tightly, fearing the worst.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Yoongi tilts his head to the side so his lips brush Jimin’s ear. “I like you a lot too.”
All Jimin can feel for a moment is relief, and then Yoongi’s turning onto his side and tilting their faces together and kissing him. Making out with Yoongi’s always kind of an adventure, in Jimin’s opinion. He’s a little jealous of how dexterous Yoongi’s tongue is, even though he has no reason to be—it’s usually him on the receiving end of everything that tongue does, after all.
Jimin slips a hand into Yoongi’s back pocket, makes to squeeze his ass, but finds his fingers grazing something sharp instead. He pulls the little plastic strip out of Yoongi’s pocket and raises an eyebrow.
"You brought condoms?" he teases, "What if I don't put out on the first date?"
Yoongi rolls his eyes and blows into Jimin's ear, making him squirm and giggle. "They're glow in the dark," he says dryly.
"What?" Jimin demands, "No fucking way." He looks down at the spaceship printed packaging and to his delight, they are in fact glow in the dark. “Where did you even get these?”
“Namjoon has a lot of space themed stuff.” Yoongi leaves it at that, and Jimin’s grateful. There’s only so much of Namjoon and Seokjin’s kinks he wants to know about in one day, and the whole panties thing had already crossed the line earlier.
Yoongi kisses him again and Jimin puts all thoughts of Jin and Namjoon’s kinky sex life out of his mind. “I can’t believe we’re going to make your dick glow,” he giggles between lingering kisses as Yoongi maneuvers them into sitting up and unbuttons his pants.
“Magic.” Yoongi mumbles back. He pops open the button of his jeans and shoves them down his thighs, then reaches for Jimin’s clothing. He rubs the material of Taehyung’s borrowed shirt between his fingers. “I kind of like the silk. Can we tie up your wrists with the sleeves or something?”
“If we get anything on it, Tae’s going to kill us.” Jimin warns. His dick’s already hardening in his underwear, and the thought of Yoongi tying him up, the soft silk binding his wrists together has him quaking in anticipation.
Yoongi sighs melodramatically and tosses the shirt off, sending one last regretful look after it. “I brought lube too. It’s around here somewhere.” He reaches a hand back and feels along the blanket, grinning triumphantly when his fingers close around the little tube. “You wanna bottom or should I?”
As much as Jimin likes fucking Yoongi, there’s something altogether more satisfying in letting him take control. “I’ll bottom.” Jimin decides.
Yoongi runs his fingertips down Jimin’s chest and unbuttons his jeans next, taking a second to murmur how pretty he looks. Jimin preens under the praise like always. At first, he’d thought it was his ego that made him appreciate it so much, but he’s come to terms with his blatant praise kink. When Yoongi calls him good, when Yoongi tells him how pretty he is, he feels that good, that pretty.
And then, Jimin remembers.
“Wait.” Jimin says in a much more serious voice than he’d meant to, a hand shooting out to grab onto Yoongi’s wrist before he can pull the younger’s jeans down. Immediately, Yoongi pulls back as if burned. “I probably should have…” he trails off, unsure how to continue. Suddenly feeling very embarrassed, Jimin ducks his intensely warm face down and slowly drags his jeans down himself.
He shuts his eyes because a part of him is too nervous to see Yoongi’s reaction, but he hears the tiny gasp that leaves Yoongi’s mouth anyways.
“Oh, Jimin,” Yoongi groans, “You’re going to fucking kill me.”
Under his jeans, Jimin’s wearing the panties Jeongguk had slipped him.
They’re nothing special, really. Plain white against his tanned skin, little boy shorts that are trimmed in lace. Jimin’s sure his heart’s about to hammer right out of his chest any second now, especially when Yoongi reaches out hesitantly and runs an inquisitive finger across the lacy waistband. Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. His cock tents up the material obscenely and when Yoongi’s thumb traces the shape through the soft material, his hips buck forward involuntarily.
“Shit, can I-“ Yoongi gathers his thoughts and tries again, “Can you turn around? I want to see everything.”
Jimin’s normally never this shy, but under Yoongi’s hot gaze, he feels oddly bashful, the bottom of his stomach fluttering with nerves. He slowly turns, hands folded into his chest with nowhere else to put them. Yoongi’s finger slips inside the waistband and snaps it hard. Jimin jerks in surprise and a tiny yelp escapes his mouth before he can force it down his throat.
“Hyung,” he tries to say, but it comes out as more of a moan. There’s a wet spot where the tip of his cock’s leaked precome through the thin cotton and Jimin tries to retain his sanity as Yoongi’s fingers wrap one by one around his waist. Abruptly, Yoongi pulls him down into laying across his lap, and then Jimin can feel Yoongi’s dick against his hip, warm and hard.
“I’m going to spank you a couple times,” Yoongi says calmly, and Jimin immediately tenses in anticipation, his cock twitching inside his panties. “Only three times, okay?’ Yoongi always makes sure to warn him every time he decides to indulge in a kink, but Jimin’s never had to stop him before.
Jimin wonders how he looks right now, naked save for the panties, pulled over Yoongi’s lap while the elder still has his crisp black shirt on. He manages a tiny “okay” and Yoongi’s cool palm trails down the curve of his back.
The first hit comes so fast that Jimin doesn’t have time to expect it, the impact knocking a choked gasp out of him. He blinks rapidly, tears blurring his vision. It doesn’t hurt as much as shock the tears into his eyes.
Yoongi keeps stroking the soft skin of Jimin’s back then, eventually making his way down to the waistband of his panties again. Jimin’s so hard, cock digging into Yoongi’s thigh, and it takes all his self-control to keep him still, to stop himself from rutting shamelessly against Yoongi’s thigh until he comes.
Yoongi winds his hand back and hits him again, this time harder, and heat blossoms under Jimin’s skin. “You look so pretty,” Yoongi coos, “Daddy’s little cockslut.”
“Fuck, Yoongi.” Jimin gasps, hips bucking forward to press against his thigh. “Don’t say th-”
Yoongi interrupts him with another hard smack, and Jimin stops midsentence, a surprised moan bubbling out of him. "One more?" Yoongi asks, and when Jimin nods, he barks out a short laugh. "Ask for it."
"I hate you." Jimin says instead. Yoongi laughs again and snaps the band of his panties again, making Jimin's dick twitch against his leg.
"Your dick says otherwise, but I'll take your word for it. Why don't you try asking nicely and see where that gets you?"
Jimin squeezes his eyes shut tightly, grits out, “Please spank me again.” Yoongi’s cock jerks where it’s pressed flush against his side and Jimin resists the urge to grin.
Yoongi’s palm comes down hard for the last time, and Jimin groans at the sting, digs his fingers into the blanket Yoongi had laid out for their makeshift picnic. “Okay,” Yoongi says immediately, “You’re going to kill me if we don’t get those off soon.”
Jimin climbs off his lap and sits up slowly, wincing when his still throbbing skin brushes the floor. “Or you could leave them on while you fuck me,” he suggests slyly, “feels kinda good against my dick.”
Yoongi’s adams apple bobs in his throat when he swallows and nods once. “Turn around,” he says, voice slightly strained. Jimin inwardly takes delight in how flustered he’s making Yoongi but dutifully turns onto his hands and knees, back arched. Yoongi’s cold fingers pull the soft cotton of the panties down but not off, and Jimin can only guess how explicit he looks like this.
“So pretty, baby,” Yoongi coos, a cool finger trailing down the center of Jimin’s back. Then, without hesitation, Yoongi’s hands curl over his ass, the throbbing skin flush against his palms. Jimin gasps, jerking at the sensation of Yoongi’s thumbs spreading him apart carefully, his hole clenching instinctively. “Hand me the lube?”
Jimin reaches over and grabs the little tube, hands it over with shaking fingers. “My ass hurts,” he complains. Yoongi skims his fingers down his thigh and makes a semi-apologetic noise.
Then Yoongi slides one slick finger down the line of his ass, smearing lube against him. His erection hangs heavy between his legs, and he’d reach down automatically to touch himself if not for the fact that Yoongi would give him that look. The I’m thinking of twenty different ways to tie your hands up right now and I’ll use them if you don’t stop look. The front of the panties are soaked through with precome now, Jimin notices with some shame.
Yoongi’s fingers are always cold, and Jimin can’t help the low hiss that escapes through his teeth when the first finger presses into him. “I’m going to cut your hands off and stick them in the microwave.”
“Sorry,” Yoongi ducks his head down and presses an openmouthed kiss to the back of Jimin’s thigh, then says sheepishly, “I’ll get the warming kind next time.” He sounds rather different from before when Jimin had been pulled across his lap.
Jimin doesn’t know why, but he kind of likes this. Yeah, he’d been into the spanking earlier, and he’s definitely aroused whenever Yoongi drops the pitch of his voice and growls baby, but this Yoongi is the one he knows like the back of his hand. The one that stays up all night listening to weird rap music and diligently works on his papers until the break of dawn.
Yoongi’s got nimble dexterous fingers that know exactly what they’re doing from experience, and he’s working two fingers into Jimin in no time, crooking them just right and finding his prostate. “There?” he asks. Jimin nods, and his next exhale comes out shaky. It takes all his effort to keep from pushing his hips back.
Yoongi fucks him on his fingers diligently until Jimin reaches back himself and grabs his wrist, tells him to stop. His dick aches inside the panties, the head of his cock pushing against the waistband.
“Condom,” he pants, “I need you, fuck, hurry up.”
Jimin sits up and watches Yoongi grab the chain of rubbers, tearing one off easily and ripping the plastic. As soon as Yoongi rips open a packet, Jimin’s laughing breathlessly. “Shit,” he grins, “They’re really glow in the dark.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes and examines the light green latex. “Pretty weird,” he agrees finally. He finishes rolling on the condom and Jimin tries not to laugh.
“It’s funny,” Jimin giggles, “but I like it.” He says the last sentence climbing back into Yoongi’s lap, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s neck. “I like you.”
Yoongi sighs quietly and blows across his cheek. “I like you too,” he says, “Now take those panties off before I rip them off.”
Jimin rolls his eyes but finally drags them down his thighs, almost embarrassed when his cock springs up and hits his stomach with a wet noise. “Eager.” Yoongi comments smugly.
“Shut up.” Jimin pushes him down onto his back and perches over Yoongi’s boney thighs. “Don’t act like you’re not just as eager.” Yoongi’s dick is curled against his stomach under his shirt. Jimin unbuttons his shirt and shoves it down his shoulders, not bothering to get it all the way off.
Yoongi’s not as broad or tan as him, and when he flushes, it shows from the tips of his ears to his collarbone, a pretty shade of pink that makes Jimin want to leave bite marks all over Yoongi’s smooth skin.
“Put your glow-in-the-dark dick inside me.” Jimin says in a fake serious voice before breaking out into giggles. To his delight, Yoongi blushes a deeper red. Still, he holds his dick straight and Jimin sinks down, gritting his teeth against the stretch.
It still aches, but Jimin finds that he likes when it hurts just a little. He doesn’t give himself time to adjust, uses the muscles in his thighs as leverage to move, hips rolling in a steady rhythm.
Jimin likes how comfortable he feels with Yoongi, that they can pull off having serious mind blowing sex or can do it like this, hushed laughter into each other’s mouths and making snarky comments as Jimin rocks slowly downwards onto Yoongi’s dick and Yoongi wraps his hands around Jimin’s hips and helps him find a pace that has them both moaning.
Jimin ducks down, sucks a bruise onto Yoongi’s neck where he knows it’ll be visible through most of the shirts he wears. Somewhere inside his mind, he entertains the thought of one of Yoongi’s old conquests seeing him in passing, spotting the dark hickey and wondering who’d left it there. ‘Me’ Jimin thinks to himself viciously, rutting his hips down to meet Yoongi’s, ‘He’s mine now.’
Jimin’s almost surprised. Yoongi’s normally the one who’s possessive, but the thought of Yoongi being solely his makes a streak of hot arousal streak down his spine, and he gasps in surprise when Yoongi slides a hand up from his hip to pinch one of his nipples. “You look much too busy thinking about something for someone who’s sitting on my dick.”
“Mm, just thinking about you.” Jimin admits, his head rolling back when Yoongi plants his feet onto the floor firmer and pushes up into him hard. “Fuck, that’s nice.”
“Just nice?” Yoongi teases, smacks his ass just a little bit too hard for it to be casual. A moan bubbles out of Jimin’s throat in surprise and he narrows his eyes down at Yoongi.
“Very nice.” He says, and then, “I bet you’ll come first,” Jimin throws out, rolling his hips down hard. Yoongi raises an eyebrow in challenge and reaches down, smacks Jimin’s hands out of the way and wraps his fingers around the younger boy’s dick, jerks him off until Jimin is shaking with the effort it takes to not orgasm.
Yoongi has the experience he lacks to thrust up into him just right, though, and Jimin quickly comes apart moaning, his cock spurting across Yoongi’s stomach.
Still, Yoongi doesn’t hold off much longer and pulls out, pulls off the (Jimin laughs in his head even looking at it) glow in the dark condom, and comes all over Jimin’s thighs.
Afterwards, they lay on the picnic blanket, Jimin’s head nestled into the curve of Yoongi’s shoulder and neck, and Yoongi grabs his phone to search up constellations again. This time, they manage to find a couple before Yoongi notices Jimin yawning, his eyes beginning to slip shut.
“Hey Sleeping Beauty, don’t fall asleep covered in come.” Yoongi uses the spare napkins from their dinner to shoddily wipe him off the best he can, and Jimin reminds himself to take the world’s quickest shower back at the dorm before going to bed.
Jimin loves it when Yoongi touches him like this, slender fingers carding through his hair, knuckles skimming down his cheeks, brushing kisses to his temple. Yoongi languidly licks into his mouth, leaves a couple lingering kisses to his bottom lip before pulling away completely. “You seriously can’t fall asleep here, there’s a class in the morning.”
Jimin groans, but sits up and gingerly stretches out his limbs. “Shit,” he mumbles, “I’m going to have to go commando on the way back, aren’t I?”
Yoongi shoves the discarded soiled panties into his pocket. “Unless you wanna put these back on, yes.”
Jimin screws up his face and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you just put those in your pocket.”
Yoongi smiles, lips curling mischievously. “Consider it a souvenir from our first date.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“You’re just mad you didn’t get to keep them clean.” When Jimin doesn’t counter back, Yoongi’s grin widens. “I’ll get you another pair," he promises.
-
Back at the dorm, Jimin automatically heads to Yoongi's rumpled bed instead of his. He tosses off Taehyung's shirt for the second time that night and when Yoongi slides under the covers a second later, lazily lifts up his hips and taps Yoongi's arm, gesturing to his pants with a sleepy smile.
Yoongi strips his jeans off for him, grumbles quietly into his ear, "spoiled brat," and Jimin grins, half unconscious already.
"Who's fault is that?" He wonders aloud. He slings a leg over Yoongi's thigh and buries his head in the older boy's chest. Yoongi smells faintly of aftershave and sweat and Jimin finds himself breathing in the familiar scent.
Yoongi's fingers card gently through his hair, and Jimin's fingers tighten their hold in Yoongi's soft cotton shirt, and he thinks on the verge of sleep that he never wants to let go.