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Jimin's phone buzzes three times in the dark of his room, dazzling light painting his face soft white and sprawling a rainbow of colors across the ceiling.
He grunts, stretches his tired muscles and grabs for it blindly, eyes blurry with sleep when he cops a look at the too bright screen, too blurry letters.
wanna come over?
it's saturday
my hairs black now
He swallows, blinks the sleep from his eyes, rubs them a couple of times to make sure they’re not deceiving him.
Double-checking the name just in case, but no – Yoongi. It’s Yoongi, they’re from Yoongi.
Which is odd, considering it's been six months since the last time he’s heard from him. Wasn’t even sure if they are still friends, or whatever it was that they used to be.
And even if so, it's not like Yoongi's seduction skills have ever been propitious or well, apt at all. Or at least they weren't he took him back to his shitty flat after the very first college party Jimin has ever been to, and Jimin thought he was in love.
Turned out he kind of was and Yoongi kind of was a dick, and things were rough.
But. It's Yoongi.
So the rational part of his brain of course, combats with the thought of just ignoring it, so all the cutting Yoongi out of his life bullshit wouldn't go wasted, but also.
This hits home.
why?
Yoongi barely takes a second to text back.
the usual
for old times sake jiminie
Jimin rubs a hand through his hair.
alone?
Which is redundant. Of course he knows the answer to that one.
Yoongi, who never used to hang and smoke alone with him, like really smoke, not just a short pull and he was finished and what, got Jimin off with a hand?
No, Jimin was there when he had his nights. When he invited a bunch people over and they kept going until the early morning.
And Jimin got them food and drinks and sat on Yoongi's lap a little.
with friends
He’s texting back way too fast to even be presumed sober now. Not that Jimin ever had the idea he would be, on a Saturday night well past ten, texting him.
not the same without u though
Jimin pushes a hand through his hair, struggling with what to say. A part of him still wants to ask why; why all those months ago and why now after so long, but he's not sure if he can actually take the answer he oh so doesn't want to hear.
Even when he can feel anger burn deep down in his stomach, almost not there at all – but still.
He decides on a simple,
dunno
When Yoongi texts back,
come on its gonna be fun
Jimin can practically see his mouth pull into the soft pout he always flaunted when he was being denied but didn’t want to ask for it just yet. It aches in a craving sort of way.
what, for you
what's in for me?
Jimin presses send, already slipping out of his sweatpants and pulling on the tightest skinnies he has.
anything you want
It sounds more of a hollow promise than anything but Jimin lets it slip nonetheless. It's dumb, a bad decision, self-destructive in the form of long expired patterns but.
might be there in ten then
maybe
He pulls on a band tee of which he vaguely remembers Yoongi saying he liked. Not out of spite or anything, he's over it.
Once he’s all fixed up, took one last look at his phone – no new messages – and succeeded to conquer the last bit of reservation he could find in himself, he gets in the car.
The ride to Yoongi's house is short, has him standing in front of his door just ten minutes later, pep talk already given, and left to shift from one foot to the other fretfully.
He’s half expecting Yoongi to not even answer at all, after he's already ringed twice, no reactive responds, not even a sound to be heard from inside.
That being said, he embarrassingly flinches when the door is finally pulled open, as he was just about to turn on the heel ready to leave, maybe drop at a bar or something to forget that he is fucking stupid enough to not hate Yoongi with every cell of his body.
It's not Yoongi who opens up though, it's a friend of his – Seojun, Jimin faintly remembers him.
He was with them a lot back then.
The corners of his mouth turn up slightly like he recognizes Jimin and then he steps out of the way to let him in.
He's also, oddly enough, not wearing a shirt.
"You." He says, rubs his hands together as he watches Jimin push his coat off before he's putting it away. "Didn't expect you here, to be honest."
Jimin shrugs. "Yoongi invited me."
"Oh." Is the only thing he says for a moment, but it sounds, deliberate. Like he thinks he knows something that Jimin doesn't. "Well, then, we’re in the living room."
Jimin aims for a polite smile before he's pushing through the tight corridor of Yoongi's flat and enters the door he recalls the living room being behind.
So obviously as he’s already here, it shouldn't surprise him to see Yoongi on his old shagged sofa, with a pretty girl leaning against him and a joint in his hand.
But for some reason, it really does.
His hair is black, like he said, so that wasn't just a catch, a good change to the lively mint Jimin has only ever seen on him.
Nonchalantly combined with a baggy maroon hoodie Jimin's fairly familiar with, and dark sweatpants, cuffed around his ankles.
He looks – soft, almost. Inviting. At home with.
A heavy Hip Hop song is coming from the speakers, the bass of it vibrating on Jimin's skin and when he looks around there are about five other people looking back at him.
Yoongi is the only one who hasn't noticed his presence yet, way to engaged in the conversation he is having, and he probably wouldn't have anytime soon either if it wasn't for Seojun stepping up behind him and raucously proclaiming a new arrival.
He does whip his head around at that, seemingly curious who Seojun is referring to and when he catches Jimin's eye he smiles. It's nice.
Jimin watches him whisper something against the girl's cheek that has her get up to leave the room before he tells Jimin to come sit, which he hesitatingly does.
"You're here." Yoongi hums, leaning forward to take a better look at Jimin – in other words, checking him out rather obviously. "Hi."
His eyes are glassy and blown wide, pretty much the only indicator that he has already taken a hit or two by now.
Jimin wants to touch his red cheeks but instead he watches him take the next drag with ease, blowing out rings like he's trying to impress. Maybe it works.
"That's actually a blunt." He holds it out for Jimin like he wants him to try which Jimin promptly drops. Yoongi furrows his brows and he looks almost annoyed for a second before he shakes his head and laughs. "Come on, man. You not even gonna talk to me?"
Man. Fine, Jimin thinks.
“Blunts and beer don’t mix well with you,” Is what comes out of his mouth of all things. “But I don't need to tell you, do I?”
Like that one time you smoked a blunt and fucked some brunette at the club later that night because you thought that was me. He doesn't say.
Yoongi looks at him dumbly but before he gets the chance to respond, the girl from before returns, two bottles of store brand beer in her hand.
Yoongi takes them, touching her shoulder in what seems to be a silent thank you.
"I think you really need a drink." He suggests, pushing the bottle into Jimin's hand.
And Jimin really did try to talk himself out of it at first.
Since he needs to drive later and also he doesn’t trust himself drunk around Yoongi and his hoard of friend, but he can't not drink when Yoongi pokes fun at him for getting drunk on one beer like some dumb lightweight, how he crudely called it.
So he tipples it in the next half an hour. It does send a good buzz trough his bones.
And since he's feeling a whole lot lighter, he's also feeling easy enough to let the by far nicest friend of Yoongi talk him into smoking weed from a bong.
It's not even half as good as he remembers it being when he tries it – maybe he's just not drunk enough but Yoongi touches the small of his back while he does, starts drawing small comforting circles into his skin through his shirt once he falls into a coughing fit.
"Easy." He mutters, nudging Jimin with his shoulder. "You haven't done it in a while. Taking multiple small puffs is just as effective."
So Yoongi tells him to go again and again and again until he doesn't have to cough his lungs out anymore.
When he smiles at him all pretty with teeth after that, it feels a lot like a reward.
This whole thing reminds him of how it used to be and if Jimin would be a little more sober he would probably feel the bitter taste in his mouth that comes along with those thoughts.
But then Yoongi sucks on his blunt and presses it against Jimin's mouth right after and all he can think about is kissing him.
"So." Someone says, just as Yoongi's hand is starting to push under Jimin's shirt. The music is suddenly way to quiet. "Who’s your friend then exactly?"
"Jimin?" Yoongi offers, hand leaving Jimin's hip in a heartbeat.
He hesitates. Jimin can feel him searching for words, wonders if Yoongi has ever talked about him when he wasn't around. If he said things he can't say now.
"We met a few months back." Is what he settles on. He draws the words out, like he needs to weigh them before they leave his lips. Maybe it's just the alcohol. "At a party."
The guy who asked the question in the first place isn't even paying attention anymore, there's a girl though, long black hair with a cigarette in her hand, looking at Jimin like she's trying to figure something out.
"So you two have a thing?" She takes one last drag before someone's stealing the fag out of her hand, prompting her to complain mildly.
Jimin chokes a little, bewildered when Yoongi simply laughs like she just told the stupidest joke.
"Keep off, Minsun." He says lightly. "He is into boys."
Oh, Jimin thinks. His heart beats two times faster because that just totally felt like a thing. Especially when Yoongi places his arm around Jimin's neck, where everyone can see.
"So?" She objects, pushing her hair back. "That shit doesn't work mutually exclusive. Just trying my luck."
"Oh no, he's right. I'm not into–" Girls? Anyone other than Yoongi? Her eyes won't stop boring into him. It's getting harder to ignore the way Yoongi's presence is slowly taking up all the space left in his mind. He shrugs timidly. "Sorry."
Minsun laughs softly before she's reaching over to touch Jimin's thigh with her long, red nails. "You're so cute, almost too cute for Yoongi, aren't you. And then so pretty, as well."
Yoongi scoffs next to him, reaching over to pry her hand away, just to replace it with his own.
Jimin can't help but flush at the touch. He's craving to touch back, to interlace their fingers, press his palm against Yoongi's, feel his skin on Jimin’s own, anything. But he doesn’t.
"Well, fuck you too, then. I'm a great catch." He snarls, to which Minsun rolls her eyes in response, like she was only joking all along.
When she looks away, Yoongi leans into Jimin and then he's whispering, like it's a secret, "Just for the record, I do think you're very pretty as well."
Jimin blush deepens and he turns his head, so Yoongi doesn't see, even when he's sure it's almost impossible not to.
Yoongi doesn't stop. Almost like he wants a reaction, other than what he's already given.
"Pretty and smart, probably have all the girls after you in college, yeah?" He mutters, Jimin can hear someone snort, but when he looks up, nobody is paying attention to them anymore. It makes him feel a bit easier. He watches two guys share a joint with each other, a girl tapping on her phone until the song changes making her smile and turn satisfied. Seojun and Minsun whispering into each other's mouths. "A few boys already sucked your cock, too? Or was that only me?"
Jimin chokes on his spit and he's ready to object but before he gets the chance to, Yoongi is pressing his fingers against his jaw and tugs until they are face to face.
Jimin licks his lips and Yoongi's eyes flicker down before he's leaning forward, their lips almost touching, Jimin thinks he's going to kiss him now.
But instead, he parts his lips and starts breathing smoke into his mouth, keeps him in place with a barely there grip until he's done.
"Such a pretty mouth, Jiminie." He mutters when he's pulling away again.
Jimin wants to kiss him. He really, really wants to press their mouths together for real times time, it's just. He can't think of anything worse he could do right now either.
He pushes the arm Yoongi has around his shoulder off before getting up. "I- I need something to drink, water. I need water.”
He ignores the way Yoongi looks at him when he rushes into the kitchen, blushing when he almost trips over his own feet.
The door falls close behind him softly as Jimin frantically tries to get his breathing back to normal, splashing his face with cold water to clear his mind a little.
It's hard to think straight and he feels stupid for drinking and smoking to this point.
He loses time of how long he spends leaning over the sink, watching droplets of water pool against the round of the tap before dropping to the metallic bottom, it must be too long though, because he hears the door crack behind him eventually.
“You’ve been in here for quite a while." Yoongi states the obvious. Jimin can't help but flinch at the sudden sound of his voice. When he turns around Yoongi is leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest. "Look, I didn't mean to scare you away. Thought we were cool?"
“Cool." Jimin echoes, tries to sound nonchalant but Yoongi gives him a look anyway. "I mean, we are, ‘course. Totally cool."
"Good.” Yoongi scratches the hint of stubble on his chin. "Did you want me to kiss you then?"
He says it so bluntly, a little bit reproaching that Jimin can't fight the blush creeping all the way down to his chest.
He shakes his head quickly. "I know you don't do kissing."
"I don’t, you’re right." Yoongi confirms, pushing himself off the door to step forward, agonizingly slow, and leaving only mere inches between them when he comes to an halt. He hesitates, cocks his head to the side like he's thinking before he asks, "Shotgunning isn’t quite kissing, is it?"
Jimin doesn't get the chance to answer before Yoongi pushes him back, spine knocking against the oaky countertop, connecting their mouths.
It knocks the air out of Jimin, lips parting to let Yoongi push his tongue between them.
It's everything he’d expected kissing Yoongi would be like, filthy and wet, their tongues moving together frankly between their mouths, lanky fingers knotted into Jimin’s hair to tip his head the way he likes best.
Jimin can't restrain from gasping into his mouth when Yoongi puts his hands on his ass, before they slide lower, down to his thighs and then he lifts him up on the countertop, slipping between his thighs easily.
“You're so fucking pretty." Yoongi says, before he starts sucking a bruise into Jimin‘s neck, right under his collarbone. Jimin can feel his breath picking up and it almost hurts a little when Yoongi starts biting around the bloodshot skin. “So needy, ‘s fucking hot, Jimin."
Yoongi presses his crotch against Jimin‘s, definitely hard under the soft fabric of his sweats. Making a show of rolling his hips charily and just enough to make Jimin crave more all whilst leaving pulsing loves bites all over his throat.
Jimin feels so overwhelmed he can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t even–
“What do you want?" Yoongi prompts, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.
Jimin takes that as an offer to just do, make thing happen. So he does, reaches down, fingers gracing his own cock through his pants.
That faint touch alone has him bite back a moan before he moves over to grip at the all so inviting bulge in Yoongi's joggers.
It jerks under the touch, little wet patch visible on even the dark fabric where his head must be.
Yoongi watches him wordlessly, groans low in his ear when Jimin starts rubbing him with more intend. He's surprised that he hasn't been told off just yet.
"Want to suck me?" Yoongi asks, voice low, tapping a finger against Jimin's bottom lip reflectively.
Jimin's mouth falls open as a matter of course and he nods, fingers already reaching to slip under the waistband of Yoongi's sweatpants.
Which makes him take a step back before Jimin can get a finger on his cock, hands falling back to his sides.
"Get down." Yoongi tells him, not unkind but with what sure rings an undertone to it.
Jimin does as he's told, falls to his knees the seconds his feet touch the ground, which makes Yoongi chuckle lightly.
"Easy, we're just getting started." He says, sounding kind of contemptuous, which makes Jimin want to suck him even more, better.
Especially when his dick is right in front of him, straining his pants in what looks painful. But Yoongi doesn't let him just yet, simply presses a finger against Jimin's jaw teasingly, before he's moving over to his Adam's apple, making him swallow noisily.
"Someone could walk in, you know. Right now, in a few seconds, maybe when you have my cock down your throat."
He's pushing his kit off while he talks, together with his underwear, cock jumping free as soon as it peeks past the waistband. It's shiny and wet, looks vast, even when he isn't fully hard yet.
Jimin has to close his eyes for a second when he slides a dry hand over it.
"Does that not bother you at all? Want to suck me that bad?"
He holds his hand out and tells Jimin to spit, before going back in to jerk off slicker now – nosier.
Jimin parts his lips, feels like he can taste it on his tongue with how close he is, the familiar smell lingering in his nose.
But Yoongi doesn't seem to be in a rush.
Alters between torturous slow and quick clever looking strokes in what feels like ages, slicking himself up again and again with his own spit, until he's so wet that it pearls down his fist and onto the carpet.
Jimin needs to lock his hands behind his back to not reach out and just touch, he looks so hard.
"Can I suck you now?" He tries, voice coming out high and breathy, when Yoongi's cock starts getting angry red in his grip, the head looking painfully swollen with every peak, like he might actually be close to coming soon.
"Sure." Yoongi relents, dropping his hand without a fuss, like he was waiting for Jimin to say something all along.
Maybe he was testing boundaries.
Jimin doesn’t waste a second to reach for him, gripping at the base, before leaning forward to touch his lips against the tip, catching a whiff of the musty smell, tasting the bitterness against the tip of his tongue.
Yoongi's fingers find their way into his hair easily and he pulls a bit as he pushes his hips into Jimin's touch, who's still more nuzzling him than anything.
Even when he knows Yoongi will get impatient, it's been so long.
He starts sucking on the head after a bit. Yoongi's hips buck up briskly at the sudden stimulation, humming softly when Jimin takes him down further.
And with the next few thrusts he's so far in that the tip grazes the back of Jimin's throat.
He tries to make room for it, opens his mouth so far that his jaw aches, flats his tongue on the underside, but when he pushes his hips forward again, spit is drooling down his chin anyway.
Yoongi groans at that.
"You're filthy, I remember." he mutters, it makes Jimin's cock leak precum in his pants and roll down his shaft hotly. "God, if anyone would walk in right now. Don't even know if they'd be mesmerized or disgusted by you. You're doing so good."
Jimin moans around his cock, which has Yoongi trace the outline of his cheek where he can feel the tip poking through.
He tries his best to breathe through his nose to take Yoongi down deeper, until the head hits his throat for real this time, tip of his nose pressed against the hint of pubic hair there.
Yoongi fists his hands in his hair until it hurts a little.
He swirls his tongue, even when Yoongi is doing most of the work by now anyway, and traces his fingers over his balls.
Yoongi rewards him with an unexpected moan, it rings a little in his ears – was definitely too loud.
He stop in his tracks and when he pulls out, he puts two fingers against Jimin's tongue instead.
"Fuck you just want everyone to hear, don't you?" He scoffs, pushing them in deep until Jimin gags a little. He pulls his head back by his hair, exposing Jimin's throat, making it hard for him to breathe. "Think someone will come looking for us, is that it? That's why you wanted to suck my cock, wanted someone to see?"
He withdraws his fingers as quickly as he pushed them in and Jimin hopes he lets him finish him off now, but Yoongi is already pulling his sweatpants back up, all the way over his painfully hard cock.
It strains the fabric like nothing else and everybody with eyes is going to notice how hard he is but he doesn't seem to care.
"Get up, we're done here." Yoongi says, he sounds a little kinder now, which means neither of them is going to come anytime soon, at least for now.
He gives Jimin an obvious once over, when he's on his feet again, eyes lingering on his neck for a little too long. “You look obscene, by the way."
Jimin shrugs, blushing, before is eyes flicker down for a second. “You're like, really hard."
Yoongi chuckles, reaching down to adjust himself through his pants. Jimin can't help but stare.
“Touché, I guess. You're not that far behind though."
Jimin looks down, the outline of his cock visible enough to tell where the head lays, if you were to search for it.
“Come on now." Yoongi says dragging Jimin along with a hand around his wrist. “Don't want the others to think we've gone missing, right?"
When they reenter the living room, nothing is any different, which is kind of dulling, after what just happened in the kitchen. And all to Jimin dismay nobody has left yet either.
Yoongi places a hand on the small of his back, nudging him forward a bit until he stumbles and they are back on the sofa, same spot as they were before.
Everybody is kind of eyeing them and it feels suffocating until Yoongi leans over and says, “Think this is the time where we're supposed to get really high, yeah?"
Jimin smiles happily, and when he turns to look at him, Yoongi has already got a lit joint in his hand. He takes a long drag, lets the taste linger on his tongue for a while, before releasing it.
He gives it to Jimin, who copies him.
They smoke up the whole thing together, altering it between their hands, blowing smoke into each other's faces, dodging it between their lips.
It makes Jimin feel better again, he's pretty sure he isn't hard anymore, even when he can still feel the heavy weight of the marks on his neck, like Yoongi's mouth was there only seconds ago.
“You two are fucking annoying." Someone says, just as Jimin is pressing his face against Yoongi‘s shoulder because his head is fuzzy and he feels like the light is getting too bright for his eyes. Yoongi scoffs, patting Jimin‘s hair with his hand. “At least put on a show or something, we all know you were fucking in there anyway."
Yoongi laughs and when he tells Jimin to look up and simply starts kissing him, it comes unexpectedly to say at least.
He presses a finger against Jimin's chest, until his back hits the armrest, and leans over to deepen it, licking into his mouth.
He works quickly, like he did in the kitchen, and Jimin can feel his cock stir up in interest again.
When he grips the back of Yoongi's shirt though, he backs off just far enough to look down at him, cheeky grin settled on his face.
“Good enough?" He asks, not looking away, even when his words are directed at whoever talked to them before.
“I think he wanted to see your dick, to compare sizes, duh." Minsun says, it sounds slurred. “I was betting on you to be small."
Jimin snorts at that and Yoongi finally takes his eyes off him to glare at her.
“You know what, fuck this." He‘s saying, pushing himself up from the sofa. He turns down the music and everybody looks at him like he just committed some sort of crime. “Go to fuck where, I don‘t even care but the party is over here. We’ve got better things to do than entertain your voyeur asses."
Jimin didn't expect it to work that way, but it's like everybody is drawn to his words, because they all do filter out, with a lot of complaining and a lot of waiting for a taxi to come but they end up alone eventually.
Well, expect for Minsun who’s lingering in the doorstep holding them up with a story about her not-quite-boyfriend, a summer trip to Vancouver and how she definitely wants to show Jimin her place someday.
She presses a kiss against Yoongi’s cheek once she's done, whispering something against his skin that Jimin doesn’t catch before she turns to wink at him, pretty smile on her face.
The door falls closed with a soft thud behind her. Yoongi doesn’t even give the lock enough time to click into place before he pushes Jimin up against it.
“Jesus, finally. She’s so fucking chatty, I don’t even know who brought her along this time.”
Jimin giggles. “She seems nice.”
"Girls who want to fuck you always seem nice, Jiminie. That doesn’t make them any less annoying.” He brushes a few bangs out of Jimin’s eyes, so nonchalantly gentle, it hurts. “At least she’s pretty, I give her that."
A faint flush spreads across Jimin's cheeks. “She doesn’t–”
“Oh, she does.” Yoongi confirms, using the hand still running through Jimin’s hair to grasp his chin instead, thumb dipping between his lips faintly. “You two would make quite the pair at least. Both pretty little sluts, aren’t you?”
Jimin sighs softly. “Hyung.”
“Aren’t you?”
Yoongi tugs his chin up a little more, fingers pressing into his cheeks until Jimin’s lips jut out against the touch, he sucks in a breath, nods from the lack of room to open his mouth.
“You’re prettier though.” Yoongi decides, sliding a leg in between Jimin’s, the warm pressure following almost too good against his half hard cock. “And I’m the one that gets to have you like that, lucky me. Offered your sweet little boys virginity up so easily for me just last semester, didn’t you?”
“Yoongi, can we, your room, please–”
“Greedy, already.” Yoongi brushes his mouth against the cut of Jimin’s jaw. “I don’t think so, baby. I’m not so keen on you getting too excited and messing my sheets.”
He runs a hand through Jimin’s hair, tugging his head to the side until his neck strains with it. “I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t, would you? Haven’t had you in so long, Jiminie. Haven’t had anyone in so long, have you?” Yoongi says, shoving his thigh up cruelly. “How long?”
Jimin’s breath hitches and for once, he doesn’t know what Yoongi wants.
Truth be told, he hasn’t had anyone since then, since before now, post-Yoongi and pre-tonight, as far as omitting six foot from accounting he went on half a date with – he seemed nice, he was nice, he just wasn’t Yoongi – and his own hand in the midst of the night goes.
Which, it sucked, everything sucked, while Yoongi was probably too busy fucking half the campus to call back even once.
So maybe, he doesn’t want to lie but he sure as hell wants Yoongi to think he’s hung up on him or anything even less.
Jimin swallows, eyes fluttering shut when he says, lies, “It wasn’t– not long.”
“Obviously.” Yoongi hum, leaning in close, breath hitting Jimin’s lips softly. The smell of cheap beer and cigarette smoke mixed with Yoongi's zesty cologne hitting his nostrils. “Obviously, for a slut like you. I’m not even surprised considering how easy you’ve always been for me.”
Jimin decides that Yoongi is still as big of an idiot as he was back then, right before he surges forward to press their mouths together, tongue slipping past Jimin’s lips and down his throat and suddenly, Jimin can’t think at all anymore.
It’s all bite this time, teeth clanking together and tongues creating a obscenely wet sound as they slide against each other.
Yoongi pulls his head back by his hair until Jimin keens into his mouth, presenting him the perfect opportunity to nip at his bottom lip sharply, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue
There’s a noticeable hitch in Yoongi’s breath when he pulls back. “You looked so pretty in the kitchen before, think I’d like you on your knees again.”
Jimin’s hands close around his thigh immediately, ready to drop to the floor right here and there but Yoongi stops him, clicking his tongue sharply.
“Baby, don’t be like that, lounge.”
All emptied out, it’s hard to ignore how much of a mess the lounge actually is, Jimin spitefully remembers times when he cleaned it all up on bleak mornings, while Yoongi was sleeping it off in his bedroom.
He tries to dislodge those thoughts, mere empty memories of erstwhile times, especially with the way Yoongi drops down on the sofa next to him, thighs spread and arms open for Jimin join.
Pushing his tongue down his throat the second Jimin settled on his lap, Yoongi’s hands come up to clutch his hips, as Jimin’s own settle behind his neck.
He pulls Jimin’s head back by the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, once he draws back. “That’s all your mouth’s good for?”
“No, I– though I– I can suck you, hyung.”
Yoongi hums, almost like he’s considering it before he loosens his grip on Jimin’s hair. When he leans back in, Jimin thinks he’s going to kiss him again, but he doesn’t, hand coming up to reach over Jimin’s shoulder instead.
He shuffles a little, their chests making contact while he’s, as Jimin assumes, trying to grab hold of something and successfully at that, going by the little satisfied sound he makes.
Back in Jimin’s view, he holds – not lube, not a condom, god, not even yet another blunt, no, it’s liquor.
A big bottle, half full and shining golden between his lanky fingers when he holds it up against the light, inspecting it.
“Fuck – bet Minsun brought that along?” He carefully pops the lid open, trying to catch a whiff of the smell. “Who drinks that?”
Jimin wants to ask – why is that important when I’m literally hard on top of you? But Yoongi is already taking a swig, glass of the bottle clinking against the ring twirled around his finger while he swirls the liquid around in his mouth as if to distinguish the taste
Jimin is so focused on the expanse of his throat, he startles when Yoongi takes hold of his jaw suddenly, hands fly up to grasp the hem of his hoddie.
He tilts Jimin’s head to the side with a flick of his wrist, and when he tugs at his bottom lip with his thumb, it takes Jimin an embarrassingly long moment to catch on before he compliantly parts his lips.
And Yoongi. Yoongi, that beautiful asshole, Jimin realizes now, hasn’t even swallowed yet, simply parts his lips, offering only the simplest of foresight with the glimpse of golden liquor still sitting on his tongue before he spits it straight into Jimin’s mouth.
Jimin barely catches on quickly enough to close his mouth in time, some of the burning liquid running down his chin and pooling at the tip, just to trickle down, leaving a dark stain on his jeans.
“Good?” Yoongi asks, voice condescending and low, brushing the pad of his finger over the wet traces on Jimin’s skin, while he shakes the hand still in possession of the bottle until it fizzes back up. “Buttercream Chardonnay. Nice, though I’m more of a booze kind of guy, guess you’ll have to drink that shit then.”
He taps the wet digit against Jimin’s bottom lip, withdrawing it only once the younger is done nipping all the residue up, and then, just a little bit longer.
Jimin writhes on his lap, hard on pressing up against the denim of his jeans uncomfortably.
He feels so short of breath, he’s barely able to gasp out a soft, “Hyung–“
“Gonna drink up for me, Jimin?” Yoongi asks, nudging the rim of the bottle against Jimin’s lips, silently giving him the choice to bail out. “Gonna let me fuck your throat after, full of cheap liquor that fucking Minsun brought along?”
Jimin curls his fingers around the neck of the bottle loosely, lets Yoongi yank his head back at an hardly comfortable angle as he tips it up, harsh liquor running down his throat relatively smoothly for the most part.
Yoongi withdraws it once Jimin starts spluttering around the rim, pressing a finger against his tongue instead.
Trying to swallow around them, Jimin grasps Yoongi’s shoulders, mind already starting to fuzz over, and heaves himself up just to press his hips back down against Yoongi’s thigh, seeking friction.
Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to deliver a sharp slap against his cheek.
It catches Jimin so completely off guard, he goes still for a second. Not because they’ve never played there before, they have.
Just usually when rigid stuff like this happens, they have – well, at least shed a few pieces of clothing already.
Before that, Jimin wasn’t sure if they had even started yet. Apparently they’re already in the thick of it.
“Not gonna be good for me?” Yoongi taunts, twisting the skin of Jimin’s neck faintly. “Already so messy, spilling liquor on my couch, on yourself, and now you can’t even be good, typical.”
“’M sorry, hyung. I can– please.”
“Show me.” Yoongi demands, tracing a finger over the waistband of Jimin’s pants. “Get your pants off.”
Jimin scrambles to get up the second the words leave his lips, struggles with pulling his skinnies down his legs and up over his ankles for a moment, before he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs to discard those as well.
Yoongi tuts when Jimin pushes his hand up under his shirt and tells him to keep that on for now.
He looks unimpressed, signals for Jimin to get down on his knees with only a simple flick of his wrist.
Jimin follows eagerly, fuzzy carpet softening his fall as his knees hit the ground under him.
He presses his forehead against Yoongi’s cotton clad knee at the comfort of fingers raking through his hair, pleasantly scratching down his scalp.
“Still good?” Yoongi juts his sockless foot out to nudge Jimin’s knee with his heel. “Hm?”
Jimin gabbles an asserting hum, before he shyly leans in, inching forward until the tip of his nose graces the soft material of his sweats stretched over where Yoongi seems to be half hard already.
He lets out a harsh breath against it as soon as Yoongi pulls on his hair, fingers twisting into the fine hair at the nape of his neck friskily.
“God, Jimin. You are a slut.” Yoongi says around a breathy laugh.
Jimin curls his fingers around Yoongi’s knees, slides them up further until they rest just short of where his thigh meets his crotch as he leans in even further.
Now, with spit wet lips pressed firmly against his sweats, Jimin can feel Yoongi’s cock twitch under the touch when he darts his tongue out to trace the cotton around it briefly.
He lets Jimin suck him through the layers of clothing for a while – though it’s more nuzzling, drooling and slobbering, really – lanky fingers pressing against his scalp soothingly whilst Yoongi’s hips twitch against his face every now and again.
Nevertheless it doesn’t take long for Yoongi to pull him off again, the front of his sweats deep dark with spit once Jimin pulls back at the low, “Look at me."
Yoongi doesn‘t look him in the eye, just puts his finger against Jimin‘s lips before he‘s pressing in. Jimin's mouth falls open effortlessly.
"You're so easy." Yoongi says, the heavy weight of a second finger comes just a moment later. He lets them rest against his tongue for a moment. “Suck."
Jimin hums, starts sucking eagerly, tries to coat them with as much spit as he can manage, even when Yoongi starts scissoring and pushing them around a little, making it harder for him.
The touch is gone as soon as it came, Yoongi rubs his fingers down Jimin’s shirt once he pulls him back into his lap, his stiff cock under layers of fabric poking up against Jimin’s bare, aching one once he shifts on his thighs, making it hard to stifle a soft moan.
A choked off groan follows once Yoongi’s big palms come up to close around Jimin’s neck, edging him in just far enough for him to suck Jimin’s bottom lip between his teeth sharply.
Before he blows another stinging slap against his cheek, harsh enough for Jimin to reach out helplessly, fingers closing around Yoongi’s wrists for purchase.
He easily pulls out of Jimin’s grip, juggling a small bottle of lube between his fingers, one that Jimin hadn’t even noticed before.
“Gonna let me finger you open, baby? Stretch you all nice and pretty for my cock?” Yoongi ask, spreading his legs and just like that also Jimin on top of him, until it aches a little, making it harder for him to keep balance.
“Please, yeah.” Jimin whines, pressing his palms against Yoongi’s chest and, even though he knows it must look pathetic, is pathetic, arches his back to jut his ass out for him. “Come on, hyung.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, it sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, before he smacks the tender skin of his bottom.
It’s barely even a ration of what Jimin’s knows he’s got in him, soft even compared to how he slapped his cheek just before but it pulls a whine from the depths of his chest anyway.
“Don’t get bratty now.” He squirts lube over his fingers, enough for it to drip down his skin, pool in his palm, make Jimin dripping wet, just how he likes, exactly how he likes. “Thought you were going to be good for hyung tonight?”
Jimin startles when Yoongi presses the lube-cold digit against his rim, rubs it in circles over his skin until it warms up, drips down his perineum messily.
He keeps his teasing up for only a while until Jimin gets too impatient, muttering a breathy, “Hyung–”
“Ask nicely.”
Jimin tries to push his hips back against the touch, he doesn’t meant to, it’s more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything, but Yoongi fists a hand in his hair anyway, exposing his neck sharply with a sly flick of his wrist.
“I said,” He leans in to nip at Jimin’s jaw harshly. “Beg for it, like the fucking slut that you are.”
Jimin barely manages a choked off please, the grip on his hair too tight, his whole body aching with how turned on he is and Yoongi, still wetly stroking two fingers up and down all the way from his hole to the base of his cock like he’s a girl.
Yoongi laughs, sweetly, condescending. “That’s how you beg? Try for less pathetic, maybe I’ll change my mind then.”
“Hyung, I– please. Want your fingers, haven’t– ‘s been so long, please, just–”
All unspoken thoughts dissolve on his tongue as soon as Yoongi dips his index finger in, barely half an inch or so, just enough for his rim to stretch around it noticeable and for him to let his head drop against Yoongi’s shoulder in a silent moan.
Yoongi strokes a hand through his hair at the same time as he slips the finger in further, heavy, pleasant weight filling Jimin up blissfully.
He presses his eyes shut and pants wetly against Yoongi hoodie, when he adds a second one after he’s barely just stretched out enough to make room for the first.
“Look at me.” Yoongi says, vision blurring over when Jimin does as he’s told, fingers pressing into his cheek and yanking his head down, forcing him to face the bow of his cock against Yoongi’s thigh, wet and angry red, dripping precum. “Would you look at that, look at yourself making a mess of me. That’s not what good boys do, is it?”
Jimin licks his lips, cock squirting precum as if on cue, soaking Yoongi’s sweats in even more wet, stain visible on even the dark material.
“Sorry, hyung, I’m– ‘m sorry.”
Yoongi spreads the two fingers inside of him, dragging them slowly against Jimin’s inside, before he pulls them out with a wet sound.
“I don’t think you are. Always been so desperate, Minnie, such a messy boy, aren’t you?”
Jimin rubs his hands up his thighs, drags his nails down his skin lightly. “Sorry, hyung– can’t help it, I can’t–“
“You could, you’re just too much of a slut to even try.” Yoongi mocks, dipping a finger back in slightly. “I mean look at you. Writhing on my lap like that, with barely a finger up your ass.”
Jimin throws his head back, desperately trying to not press his hips down. “Yeah, hyung, please, need more, I need–”
Yoongi slaps his ass at that, creating a hollow sound and making Jimin almost stumble forward with surprise, before he pushes his fingers back in.
“You don't need anything, pet." He says derisively. “Especially not when you seem to have forgotten how to ask for it properly.”
Jimin gasps, fingernails biting into the skin of his thighs persistent enough for it to burn.
“All those guys in the interim must’ve really indulged you too much, hm?” Yoongi muses, lazily tapping a finger against Jimin’s bottom lip. “Of course they did, look at you. Just need to flutter your lashes at them once and they’re at your feet.”
The way he talks, voice dropped contemptuously low and eyes on the soft bow Jimin’s lips like he’s distracted by them, is almost enough to make Jimin forget that this is the farthest from the truth it could possibly go.
There wasn’t anything other than his own hand and porn that Jimin felt bad about the second he came.
A part in him wishes that wasn’t just it, all of the sudden, wishes he could flaunt about having sucked a pretty stranger’s dick in the dim bathroom of some club, being laid out in a man’s bed twice his age or fucked by someone that’s got more to him than Yoongi and let him stay.
He wants to make Yoongi feel just a twinge of jealousy with it.
And Jimin could, could just pull lies out of his ass and go with it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he hasn’t perfected the art of shit talking even half as good as Yoongi has.
“No one put you in your place, Jimin? Not even when you begged them to, dropped to your pretty knees and let them have you?” Yoongi hooks two finger into the back of his collar, pulls until it cuts into the skin of Jimin’s throat. “Good thing you have me then. I know that you look prettiest when it hurts.”
Keeping quiet is a challenge when Yoongi starts fucking him for real this time, painstakingly preparing Jimin for his cock, choking on moans by the time he adds a third one and progresses to hit his prostate every so often.
Jimin gets lightheaded by the time he starts feeling him up, slipping his free hand up under his shirt to brush his fingers over his stomach, flick his nipples with his nails until Jimin is desperately grasping the back of the couch and panting wetly against his chest.
Once his fingers are gone, a hand curls into Jimin’s hair to pull his head back, while the other one pushes his shirt up over his head, leaving him completely bare, whilst Yoongi hasn’t even taken one piece of clothing off.
A sharp slap echoes against the inside of Jimin’s thigh. “Up you go. On all fours, you know the drill.”
Yoongi presses his hands against Jimin’s back as soon as he shuffles to his knees, nudging him until his arms give out and scrambles for halt against the armrest, face dropping into his crossed arms and ass jutting into the air.
He hears shuffling, Yoongi getting undressed presumably – hopefully, the sofa tips under Jimin’s knees, a soft click and then there’s a hasty, slick sound behind him.
Yoongi’s jacking off, all fast strokes, definitely lubed up already while his other hand traces patters into the skin of Jimin’s back, oddly gentle.
When he grips Jimin’s hips and lines up with him, it’s far from that, nails biting little crescents into his skin as he rubs his head wetly against Jimin’s opening, sharp little teeth piercing the skin of his neck.
“Gonna let me have you, Jimin? Fuck you wet and sloppy, ruin you for anyone else?”
Jimin whines a muffled yes against his arm, sinking his teeth into his biceps when Yoongi finally pushes in.
It’s the stretch Jimin hadn’t had in so long, has been craving for so long, he goes dizzy with it.
Yoongi runs his hands down his spine once he’s bottomed out, breath hitting Jimin’s neck harshly when he presses up against his back, warm, skin on skin.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He mutters against the shell of Jimin’s ear, nibbling at the stud looped through his skin there. “Tight for a slut like you, anyway.”
Jimin gasps when he circles his hips, pushing back against him briefly before Yoongi pins him in place.
He starts setting up a slow rhythm, pressing Jimin deeper into the cushion with each chary movement and making him drool saliva all over his own skin.
“That’s how you let all the other guys fuck you too, huh? How many was it, how many sleazy dudes had you like this?”
Jimin head drops to the side as he greedily sucks in air. “I don’t – I don’t remember.”
A shiver runs down his spine when Yoongi snaps his hips forward, mean chuckle leaving his lips. “That many?”
“Hyung–“
“What? Embarrassed now, after you’ve already been that much of a slut?” He scratches his nails down Jimin’s back, sharply enough to undoubtedly leave a mark behind. “That’s what gets you off so terribly? Being a sloppy fuck hole, a pretty little toy for anyone who’s willing to have you? The campus whore?”
He’s fucking into him roughly now, steadily, their skin slapping together loudly and making Jimin’s whole body move with it.
He pants against the armrest, cushion pressed under his chest rubbing softly against him, meeting the wet head of his cock occasionally and oh so good.
Yoongi pulls his head back by his hair without warning, exposing Jimin’s neck and making him swallow noisily. “I asked you a question.”
“God–” Jimin gasps, eyes fluttering shut when Yoongi thrusts into him, stays there and circles his hips. “Yeah, I like it, hyung, ‘m a slut. Love being a slut, love being fucked like one, please–“
“Who’s slut are you tonight?”
“Hyung’s slut.” Jimin whines, pressing his hips back before Yoongi tightens the grip on his hair warningly. “Your slut, hyung, yours.”
Yoongi smacks his ass, twice. Rougher than any of the times before, it stings unbelievably. “Say my name, what’s my name, pet.”
“Yoongi, Yoongi, please–”
As if on cue, he starts fucking into him again, somehow even rougher than before, pressing Jimin’s head back into the armrest and making him arch his back until the head of his cock drags against the worn-out cushion of the sofa.
It stings where Yoongi's nails bite into Jimin’s hips when he leans forward, one hand coming around to twist his nipples sharply. “You know that everybody wants you, yeah? Fucking slut."
Jimin has always had a hard time differentiating if it’s purely talk with nothing behind with Yoongi or not, but it makes warmth dust over his cheeks anyway.
The grip he has on the sofa gets almost painful and he tries spreading his leg further, even when it's physically impossible to at this point.
“I’m gonna–“
Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Already?”
“Please– just– I need it, hyung.”
"You need it? Aw." He's pushing in again, excruciating slow, making Jimin pant softly. "What are you waiting for, then? Fuck yourself back on my cock, make yourself useful. Even pretty sluts like you don't get to relish a passive ride."
Jimin jumps into action straightaway, pushes his hips back like he can't help it, drawing a groan from Yoongi, hips meeting Jimin's and creating a hollowing sound as their skin slaps together.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He grunts, spurting Jimin on further. “That’s it, pet.”
It’s easy to keep it up like that, meeting each other in the middle until Jimin can’t take it anymore, going lax again, his head slumping to the side, panting against his arm, while Yoongi keeps fucking him, chary and slow, fast and rough then chary and slow again.
When Yoongi comes, spurting into the condom, it’s stretched-out and without a warning, hips stuttering against Jimin’s and a low groan making its way past his lips.
Jimin whines when he weakly fucks into him two more times, tries to press his hips down against the sofa for some sort of friction, trying to come as well.
But Yoongi is already hauling him back around, grip tight on his hips when he pulls him into his lap from where he’s leaning against the opposite armrest, one leg slipping between Jimin’s to keep him in place.
Jimin squirms on top of him, grabs for Yoongi’s hands, still around his hips. “Hyung, I haven’t–“
“Oh, you wanted to come too?” Yoongi asks, faux-innocence patronizing as he speaks. “Thought sluts like you were satisfied just like that."
Jimin lets out a sob when Yoongi presses his thigh up against him, the gentle weight on his painfully hard cock almost enough to tip him over the edge.
He pulls Jimin’s head back, grip tight in his hair and exposing the expanse of his neck. “Wanna rub off against me? Hump my leg, like the pathetic little thing you are?”
“Please,” Jimin breaths, already pushing his hips down, cock curling against Yoongi’s thigh, leaving a glistening wet stripe behind. “Yeah, yes, hyung.”
Yoongi chuckles, props his thigh up for Jimin to use before he goes over to sucking purple bruises into the skin of his neck again; tongue flicking out to linger over the ones from earlier, occasionally nibbling at the cut of Jimin’s jaw and sucking the formerly abused skin between his teeth sharply.
“Filthy, baby, rubbing your desperate little prick against me to get off.” Yoongi muses against the bow of his lips, teasing a kiss whilst gripping his hair a little tighter to make it impossible for him to lean into it. “So greedy, gonna come all over me?”
It doesn’t take long for Jimin’s orgasm to approach, not with how wet and messy and humiliating this whole thing is, nails biting into Yoongi’s thigh and back arching obscenely as he drips vast, endless seeming, stripes of come over both of them.
He collapses against Yoongi’s chest right away, hands coming up to rest against his abdomen, ignoring the way he can feel come sopping down his stomach and squish stickily between both of them.
Yoongi is quick to push him back up again though, one hand gripping the edge of his jaw to hold him in place while he scoops up an index finger full of his come with the other one.
“You’re not done yet, slut. Kind of rude to come all over me, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna clean up?”
Jimin’s eyes flutter shut easily, lips parting in anticipation of what’s about to come.
He sucks the digit in embarrassingly eager when Yoongi taps it against his bottom lip, come dissolving and mixing with his spit when he rubs over Jimin’s tongue.
“Cute.” Yoongi hums, pulling out just to press in two come-covered fingers next. “Look so pretty sucking your own come off my fingers, baby.”
He keeps at it until the last drop of come is cleaned up and sitting heavy in Jimin’s stomach, bitter aftertaste of it lingering unpleasantly on his tongue.
Frankly Jimin isn’t the biggest fan of come eating, it’s more the satisfaction of fingers down his throat for him.
Or maybe, it’s the way Yoongi smiles at him after, almost like a reward.
He looks drowsy and fucked out now, soft and at ease with, eyes fluttering shut when Jimin places his palms on his sweaty chest to sit up a little, thighs sliding against each other.
Jimin body leans in like it’s drawn to do so, lips making a soft pop sound when he parts them.
“Alright.” Yoongi interjects before Jimin can say anything, voice low and calm, cutting him off effortlessly. “That was fun."
He reaches out to curl his fingers around Jimin’s hips to drag him back an inch, off of him.
"Up you go now, 's time to head home."
Jimin swallows. A small, gullible part inside of him thought it wouldn’t be like this.
It's hard, the horrid verity of Yoongi never being his no matter how it’s turned or twisted, no matter how many times he makes it feel like he could be, it doesn’t matter because he isn’t.
Maybe though, just maybe, even if it’s so far from what Jimin had wanted it to be, it’s enough to sufficient for the time being.
Maybe.