Work Text:
Jungkook has had a very, very long day.
Long week. Month, even. With finals approaching, he’s barely had time to sleep, to eat, to think about anything other than the two papers and the group project that had been due today. His mornings are lectures crammed with study guides and last minute Powerpoints, his afternoons are timed naps on the couch, his nights are relentless taps on his laptop’s keyboard and highlighter fumes.
But he only has a little homework this weekend; he has to get his portfolio together for his photography workshop and revise a very rough draft of a paper he’d written in two hours on three cups of coffee last week. He knows it’ll probably take him half the day to finish, so in the back of his mind he reserves it for Sunday. For now, he needs to blow off some steam. The thought of spending a night doing whatever he wants pulls a satisfied hum from his chest as he climbs the stairs to his dorm.
He fumbles with all the membership cards and keys on his lanyard before he gains access to his dorm, pressing the door closed behind him with his back, letting his head loll against the wood. It’s silent save for the murmur of traffic outside and music blaring a few floors above him, and he pushes out a sigh, deep and slow. His roommate must be out, meaning his night of relaxation is already off to a good start. Not that having Taehyung around would be the worst thing – there’s just something serene in having a space all to himself after a rough day.
“Tae?” he calls out, just to be sure. He kicks off his sneakers and drops his backpack in the mess of shoes and jackets piled on the floor, pushing off of the door and heading through to their little kitchenette. He drops his keys on the counter and pulls open the fridge, leaning against the door and scanning the bare contents. “Hyuuung,” he sings.
Met with no response, Jungkook pops open a can of soda and turns to gaze over his empty dorm, his kingdom for the night. What was he going to do first? He could play a few hours of Overwatch, he could watch that movie that Namjoon keeps recommending to him, he could read a book if he wants to (not that he does want to, but he likes that he has the option.) The rumble in his stomach reminds him that he should probably start with a late dinner, and he heads into the living space to boot up their Playstation with one hand while the other dials the number to his favorite takeout place.
⋯
He’s almost two hours into the game when he decides he’s getting bored of it, wrist starting to tire from all the button-mashing. He switches the TV’s input to whatever’s playing on cable and reaches for the container of japchae he hasn’t finished yet, sinking into the couch cushions and fishing his phone from the pocket of his hoodie.
Idly sifting through the box with his chopsticks, Jungkook scrolls through a handful of homepages and notifications, even going as far as to play a couple levels of Candy Crush just because it’s there and he’s feeling desperate for stimulation. He kind of wishes Taehyung had been home, and he starts to wonder what kind of fun he’s out having without him. Most likely he’s working late, or maybe he’s cooped up with that guy he’s been talking to. Taehyung always had something to do while Jungkook always relied on the company of his laptop. Relaxing alone on a Thursday night isn’t what Jungkook’s brain had cracked it up to be.
He’s teetering on just having a shower and calling it a night, but an app hidden in a sea of social networks catches his eye. His thumb hovers over it and he should definitely call it a night because Grindr has never not made him want to die, but he opens the app anyway. Just to see, he reasons.
It’s admittedly been a while since Jungkook’s gotten laid. He’d hooked up with one of the girls in his photography class who had been pretty flirty when they posed each other, but that was a couple of months ago. She was nice and he’d bragged to his friends about how good the sex was, but it wasn’t anything to keep him coming back. So it’s been him and his left hand since then and he was fine with that – it wasn’t like no one was trying to hook up with him, just wasn’t interested in anyone’s approaches. And when he was he couldn’t reason with himself that getting ass was more important than studying.
But Jungkook’s been working hard and if he can find someone normal enough on Grindr to help him decompress then he’ll take it. It’s just after midnight on a weekend; someone good should definitely want to pick him up. He shakes his head at himself for caving in, changing his display picture to something more recent. Within minutes of being marked online, a series of ‘pings’ files in and Jungkook’s cheeks heat up immediately. “Jesus,” he murmurs.
Immediately Jungkook’s messages are made up of “I’m so horny, baby,” and requests for ‘pics,’ someone asking for his ‘stats’ as though he’s a fucking Pokémon and Jungkook remembers why he stopped logging in. Someone much, much older than him asks plain and simple if he wants to bottom for him tonight and then there’s dicks all over the place. Nervous laughter slips from his lips and he really does try to give some of them the time of day, replying to some and outright deleting others.
He knew Grindr wasn’t a hot spot for verbal foreplay, but come on. No one’s even asked him his name. Most of them don’t even have profile pictures. He would do quite a bit for good dick, but he’s not going to meet up and die for it.
Jungkook blinks the image of a thousand hairy cocks out of his mind and throws his phone on the couch cushion beside him. He knew what to expect and still he’s overwhelmed, stomach full of some variation of butterflies. The attention is nice, but he’s definitely going to call it a night. After his shower he could put on his playlist and take care of himself, since he isn’t going to trust Thickcock94 or gangnamdaddy112 to do it.
Leaving his phone behind, he heads to his room to grab a towel and some pajamas then makes his way to the bathroom, quickly filling it with steam and the smell of coconut.
⋯
“What does someone as gorgeous as you need to resort to Grindr for?”
Jungkook blinks at the missed message that awaits him when he returns from his shower, skin still a bit damp, t-shirt clinging to his back. He scrubs at his wet hair with his towel while he opens the dude’s profile and let’s his eyes widen. The guy is hot. Way hotter than any guy that’s tried to talk to him, and Jungkook can’t help but wonder if he’s fake. He’s 22 to Jungkook’s 20 and 8 miles away, all cherub cheeks and pillow lips and Jungkook lets out an audible gawk. When he realizes the message is from 18 minutes ago he fumbles with the phone, rushing to get in a reply. He hopes he’s still up and interested.
jjk97: I could ask you the same thing
mochi219: I would think u’d have a list of guys on call ;)
mochi219: unless ur not the guy in ur picture
Jungkook opens up the camera within the app and spends a good minute trying to capture a good selfie. After some contemplation and assuring himself that his nose doesn't look as big as he thinks it does, he sends it to their chat.
jjk97: it’s definitely me, just shy ig lol
jjk97: what about u??? ur way too hot to be real??
Jungkook closes his eyes and groans at how desperate he must come off, but mochi219 is well on his way to getting whatever he wants so long as he’s who appears to be. He can’t help but to be a little flustered.
He starts to clean up his mess from dinner as he waits for a response – if he’ll even get one, he thinks – and picks his phone back up fast enough to give himself whiplash when it pings. There's that same boy from his profile picture seemingly lying on a bed, ash blonde hair fanning against the pillow and he wears a gentle smile and a chunky sweater. His eyes are gigantic and the subtle gloss on his lips is tantalizing. Jungkook swallows hard.
jjk97: how do I know you’re not just snatching off someone’s myspace right now
mochi219: oh u caught me (-＿- )ノ
jjk97: ur not murdering me that easily
jjk97: hold up a finger
mochi219: omg
Sure enough, he sends a photo in the same position, same face and hair and clothes and all, but he's got a finger raised.
Jungkook’s heart beats hard in his rib cage. He’s not being catfished; someone this hot really is trying to pick him up. It’s not that Jungkook doesn’t know he’s hot himself, but being hit on by someone that looks like that would confound anyone.
jjk97: this person must be used 2 being catfished. their myspace is a catfisher’s paradise
mochi219: omg
mochi129: ur annoying
jjk97: thank you
jjk97: so mochi huh? you think ur cute?
mochi219: I am cute. don’t u ever forget it (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)
mochi219: so
mochi219: whatcha looking for?
Nearly thirty minutes of conversation later and Jungkook’s on the bus away from campus and into the city, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie and earbuds in. Jimin – that’s his name – doesn’t live too far and before he knows it he’s walking down the fifth floor of a building much nicer than his, looking for apartment 7C. As he lifts his fist to knock, he’s feeling extremely embarrassed to be at the door of a stranger in the middle of the night to hook up. It has everything to do with the woman at the end of the hall looking at him like she knows as she dumps her garbage in the chute.
Jimin had been funny, easy to talk to, definitely a natural flirt and Jungkook’s excited to meet him, but there’s a lump in his throat that tastes like deflated confidence because he doesn’t know if Jimin’s going to like him in person. What if Jungkook suddenly can’t make jokes as easily out loud as he can over text? What if Jimin isn’t attracted to him? What if the sex is bad?
He considers heading back to the bus stop he’d been dropped at. He can just tell Jimin he ended up not feeling well, or something.
But Jungkook knocks on the door and takes a small step back, looking at his shoes, the pattern of the carpet, anything but the door until it opens.
His eyes climb the small figure, a bit shorter than his own, much softer. He’s in ripped jeans and a sweater that’s adorably too big, that ash blonde hair framing his face. There’s those cheeks, eyes turned to half moons as they welcome him and god, Jungkook tries his hardest not to fixate on his mouth. He wants to turn it red, see what it looks like kiss-swollen and wet.
“Jungkook-ah?” Jimin’s voice is soft, sweet. It doesn’t at all match the sass he’d been giving in their messages. It makes Jungkook smile, as bright as the one Jimin wears.
“Hyung,” he replies, “I guess you really weren’t catfishing me.” A giggle breaks his words. Jimin really does try to be annoyed but accompanies his eye roll with a grin, stepping aside to let his date in.
“Did you have to travel far?” Jimin leads him into the kitchen once Jungkook has taken off his shoes and placed them neatly at the end of the line near the door. The younger leans against the granite of the counter, eyeing the boy at the other end. Jimin’s hands barely peer out from the sleeves of his sweater and Jungkook wants to scoop him up.
He shakes his head. “No, not really. My dorm’s like, ten minutes away.”
“Oh, you go to school here?” Jimin rests his elbows on the island, giving his hair a little flick as he studies his younger. Jungkook suddenly feels very, very shy.
“Yeah, second year.”
“So do I! Well, I’m a senior, but. That’s cool! Small world,” Jimin muses, playfully nudging Jungkook’s arm. Jungkook tilts his head in interest, nerves starting to melt as Jimin offers easy conversation. Going to the same school means he’s going to see Jimin around after this; he hopes tonight goes as well as he’s been imagining since Jimin told him what he likes and what he’s into. He’d rather be able to smile at Jimin in passing if they’re going to agree to never speak again than duck his head and evade him because of a terrible date.
“Yeah, that’s crazy,” he smiles, carding his fingers through his dark hair. “What are you studying?”
“Dance,” says Jimin, something like a smirk spreading, “yourself?”
Jungkook’s mouth goes dry quickly. Underneath those clothes was a dancer’s body. Lean muscle and who knows how flexible he is; Jungkook rakes his eyes over Jimin’s frame before he looks down to study lines in the granite. “Uh, f-film. It’s, uh. It’s turning out to be a lot tougher than it sounds.”
Jimin pouts playfully, resting his head on one of his hands, closer to Jungkook than the younger had realized. Small fingers run over the sleeve of his hoodie, resting on his forearm. “Hm. End of the semester got you stressed out?”
Jungkook swallows hard around the lust that’s climbed into his throat and nods. He wants to grab him by that hand and shove him up against the wall with it above his head. Kiss him slow and make him beg. And he could do it, but something about Jimin is making him tense. He doesn’t want to break him or anything. He seems so delicate. Like Jungkook should cradle his head and put him to sleep instead.
But his brain is all Jimin’s cologne, Jimin’s mouth, Jimin’s palm on him, Jimin’s body heat, the bedroom eyes he’s giving him.
“You’re gorgeous,” he blurts, breathing out a laugh at himself. “Sorry, you just, you’re really... pretty.”
The smile that paints Jimin’s face is bright, surprised. He gives Jungkook’s arm a soft squeeze. “Pretty? I’ve never gotten ‘pretty’ before.” Jungkook’s going to apologize again, but the apples of Jimin’s cheeks are turning pink from the compliment.
“You’re definitely pretty. You’ve got... yeah. You’re pretty.”
“Thank you,” Jimin giggles. “You weren’t this shy in your messages, Kook-ah.”
It’s Jungkook’s turn to blush. “You make me a little nervous.”
“It’s just me. Don’t have to be nervous around me.” Jimin’s hand slides down the rest of Jungkook’s arm and comes to rest on his knuckles, and reflexively, the younger turns his hand over to press their palms together. Their fingers lace through each other. “I’ll be good.”
“Yeah?” In a sudden surge of confidence, Jungkook follows: “You gonna be good for me?”
He swears he can hear Jimin’s breath catch.
Then Jimin’s standing upright and slotting himself between Jungkook and the island. Jungkook’s breath goes shallow when those small hands meet his chest, doe eyes gazing at him.
“The best for you,” Jimin’s soft-spoken words breeze over Jungkook’s skin and travel straight to his dick. “Wanna make you feel good.”
Jungkook wants to make Jimin feel better than anyone’s ever made him feel before. He wants to know what he sounds like when he’s coming undone, when he’s so blissed out and getting fucked so deep he can’t form any words other than Jungkook’s name.
His hands meet Jimin’s slender waist but his brain blanks on what he’s supposed to do. It’s been a good while since he was this turned on and Jimin’s so attractive, his pouty lips so close. Absentmindedly, Jungkook runs his tongue over his own lips and Jimin smiles, cupping the back of Jungkook’s neck and pressing their foreheads together.
He starts to drag slow, feather light kisses from Jungkook’s jaw, to his cheek, to the corner of his mouth. His voice is nearly a whisper when he asks, “Did you come here to fuck me, Jungkookie?”
Jungkook’s eager hands start to roam Jimin’s sides, fingers curling into the knit of his sweater. He nods.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you.”
Jimin hums, slotting his leg between Jungkook’s. “So fuck me.”
That’s all the coaxing Jungkook needs. He pulls Jimin’s hips flush against his and connects their mouths, sighing at the confirmation that Jimin’s lips really are as soft as they look. Softer. God, Jungkook misses kissing. Misses the feeling of someone else pressed up against him, and he guesses he doesn’t realize how touch depraved he is until he has Jimin’s arms around his neck, bringing their lips together harder.
Honestly, he’s been hard for the better of an hour and he’s pleased to see that it’s mutual when the bulge in Jimin’s jeans grinds smoothly over his own. The shorter lets a moan drip into their kiss and rolls his hips, slow and deliberate. His skin is warm where Jungkook’s palms rest beneath his sweater, rounding to his back and climbing his spine, sending a shiver through him. Jungkook’s tongue runs along the seam of Jimin’s lips and he lets him in immediately. It’s wet and loud and heavy in seconds.
Tugging at his date’s swelling lip with his teeth, Jimin breaks the embrace to lead Jungkook out of the kitchen, passing through the living room and entering the second door to the left. His bedroom is dimly lit, a lamp on the neat desk casting a gentle glow and Jungkook isn’t surprised by how clean it is. It’s minimal and crisp, a stark contrast to the dungeon - as Taehyung calls it - he has back at home.
Jimin shuts the door behind them and immediately they’re on each other again, connected by frenzied mouths and sliding hands. Jimin guides Jungkook backward to his bed and pushes him down onto the mattress. He straddles his waist and Jungkook’s hands quickly gravitate to his ass, grabbing eagerly and pulling their crotches flush once more.
It’s a blur as to whose shirt comes off first, articles of clothing quickly piling up on the hardwood floor until just thin material separates them, damp with sweat and pre-cum. They spend what feels like ages licking into each other’s mouths and clumsily bumping noses before Jungkook detaches to kiss across his jaw and down his neck, searching for the spot that’ll make Jimin squirm. He finds it easily.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says again, relishing in the sound of Jimin’s near whines as he works a purpling bruise into his pulse. “How many guys wanted to be me tonight, hm? Could’ve had anyone and you wanted me.”
Jimin has his head tipped back and eyes closed while Jungkook works on his skin, downright mewling whenever he sucks particularly hard. “You’re,” he tries, “you’re hot a-and I knew you’d have a huge cock.”
Jungkook can hear the smile in his voice and as he soothes over his mark with the flat of his tongue.
“You just want me for my big dick. I thought we were hitting it off.”
“The big dick is just a bonus,” with one more kiss Jimin starts moving down Jungkook’s body, pausing to suck a matching bruise into his collarbone. “I think you only want me for my big ass, anyway.”
Jungkook laughs out loud, leaning back on his elbows as Jimin continues downward, skin burning beneath his open mouthed kisses. “Just a bonus.”
He watches intently as Jimin mouths over his hard-on through the cotton of his boxers, the pressure of his breath sending out shockwaves. He circles his thumbs into Jungkook’s hipbones before hooking them into the elastic band and dragging them down his thighs. Jungkook feels his breath hitch and Jimin looks up at him with a wicked but playful grin. “I knew it.”
Jungkook drapes an arm over his eyes, flustered by the attention and the implied compliment. With his vision restricted everything is heightened - the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ears, the touch of Jimin’s thick lips along his pelvis and thighs, the smell of the cinnamon candle he’d seen burning in the living room, seeping beneath the door. When Jimin grips the base of his cock and begins to stroke slowly up and down, he sighs. There’s a cloud of breath where he needs it most and he forces his eyes open; he has to see.
It’s sinfully gorgeous, the stretch of Jimin’s strawberry lips around the head of Jungkook’s cock. He keeps his eyes on Jungkook’s until he sinks down, letting his lids flutter closed with long lashes on his cheeks. The younger’s worried that he’s going to choke as he takes him further and although he gags, he eagerly continues on with hollowed cheeks and a flexing throat. Jungkook moans with each bob of his head and threads his fingers into his hair.
Within minutes a knot is forming in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach and if Jimin doesn’t pull off right now he’s going to come embarrassingly quick. He tells him as much.
“Jimin, h-hyung, if you don’t stop I’m gonna - ah - gonna come,” he nearly whines, edges of his ears and apples of his cheeks tinted rose.
Jimin sucks teasingly for another few seconds before he pulls off, a string of spit and pre-cum bridging the gap between his puffy lips and the tip of Jungkook’s cock. His hand takes over, languid and leisurely. His voice is deep when he speaks, already fucked out. “How long’s it been since you’ve had a blowjob?”
“Fuck off,” Jungkook breathes, trying not to let out the laugh that presses against his tongue. Truthfully, it’s been a long time. He can’t remember getting sucked off ever feeling as good as this. Jimin’s mouth is something else and as much as Jungkook wants to see what his pretty face looks like covered in his cum, he has other plans.
But Jimin apparently has other plans, as well. When he goes back down on Jungkook, sucking him messy and wet and good, Jungkook can’t hold back. His panting turns to full-on moans and he tugs on Jimin’s blonde hair, pulling him up the length of his cock until Jimin’s just suckling the head, his little hand stroking him with purpose. Before he can warn him, Jungkook’s throwing his head back and shouting expletives, releasing a hot and thick load right into Jimin’s mouth.
The older pulls off but keeps his hand moving, milking Jungkook through his orgasm and catching cum on his tongue, his swollen lips, his cheek, his chin. When Jungkook opens his eyes he finds Jimin breathlessly swallowing what he can, licking the corners of his mouth and holding direct eye contact. He thumbs away stray streaks and sucks it from his own skin, and watching with hooded eyes, Jungkook knows he’ll be hard again in record time.
Jungkook has to lay there for a moment to catch his breath and will his limbs to return to a solid state from the jelly they’ve melted into. He can hear the smirk in Jimin’s voice when he asks, “you can go again, yeah?”
With a hand on the back of Jimin’s neck he guides him up, reconnecting their lips harshly, rolling them over and settling onto his knees. He tastes himself on Jimin’s mouth and it’s hard to pull away from how hot it is. “Get on your knees,” he says, skimming his knuckles along Jimin’s thigh, “please.”
Jimin does as he’s told, rolling himself over and onto his knees and elbows, looking over his shoulder at Jungkook with a wanting but mischievous glint in his brown eyes. Jungkook trails his hands along the curve of Jimin’s back, rounding to his hips to give them a squeeze, and then resting on his ass, plump and soft but muscle undoubtedly firm beneath his grip.
“There’s stuff in the drawer,” Jimin arches his back then, putting on a show with his chest flush against the mattress and his arms outstretched before him, fingers splayed across the sheets. He stretches like a cat and Jungkook drinks in the sight of his lean body. Still as much of a tease as he’d presented himself online.
Jungkook kneads the meat of Jimin’s ass before he delivers a smack to it, watches it jiggle and redden. The older sucks in a breath at the impact, eyes having snapped closed but his head is still angled toward Jungkook in a silent plea for another. A sly smirk rests on Jungkook’s lips and he drops another slap onto Jimin’s tender skin, earning a whimper.
“Your body is amazing,” Jungkook muses, thoughtfully caressing Jimin’s slight hips for another moment before finally leaning over to rifle through the drawer for the half-empty bottle of lube and a stray condom. Something about the bottle’s previous use makes Jungkook’s stomach feel funny. Either Jimin’s fucking himself open in this bed or someone else is - both theories make his blood boil in different ways. He’s got no place to be jealous.
Just wants - needs - to give Jimin the best lay of his life, is all.
“And you know it, too, don’t you,” he continues, leaning down to litter kisses along Jimin’s spine while he spreads cold lube over his fingers in an effort to warm it up. He mouths at each cheek, bites down on one of them playfully, earning a surprised gasp from Jimin. “So gorgeous.”
When Jungkook drags one wet finger from tailbone to rim, Jimin squirms, canting his hips back once. He keeps dusting open-mouthed kisses over his skin and his nail catches before he’s sliding his finger in, letting it sit so Jimin can get used to the stretch before he starts pumping it in and out, crooking it in a way that makes Jimin groan. He’s got his cheek pressed to the mattress and a look of relief about his features.
Jimin nods his approval for Jungkook to add another finger, and then there’s two scissoring him open and sliding over each other with an obscene squelch. He starts rocking his hips backwards but Jungkook uses his free hand to still him, wrapped firmly around his waist as he starts fucking Jimin properly, curling them up in search of something. When he finds it he’s awarded with a yelp, Jimin’s eyes squeezing further closed.
“Right there,” he breathes, “f-fuck, right there...”
Jungkook rubs slow, rough circles into Jimin’s prostate and the boy’s near sobbing, white knuckles fisting his grey silk sheets. With his lips on Jimin’s perineum, Jungkook plays, “Bet your cute little fingers can’t do this, huh, hyung? Can’t reach, can’t fuck yourself the way you need,” he runs the tip of his tongue along the outer edge of his rim and Jimin nearly chokes. “Need someone to fuck you right.”
Jimin’s beside himself now, arching his back deeper and trying his hardest to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grasp so that he can push back in search of his tongue. “Please,” he begins, turning his face so it’s buried in the sheets. “Please, please, J-Jungkookie, please, baby, please-”
If Jungkook was hard before, he’s throbbing now. He obliges Jimin’s pleas, working his tongue in beside his two fingers, smooth and slick with spit, and starts licking him open while his digits help the stretch. He’s fucking him with three fingers and the width of his tongue soon enough and Jimin’s nearly speaking in tongues, shaking like a leaf and lifting his head to look back at Jungkook with obvious tears in his eyes. He fists Jungkook’s hair as if to pull him impossibly closer.
“That’s so good, oh my god, feels - ah - d-don’t stop,” he keens, high pitched moans breaking his voice here and there.
Jungkook wonders if he can make him come just like this, untouched.
So he fucks him faster, pushing in as far as he can until his nose is on Jimin’s skin, and with a scream Jimin comes, convulsing and moaning and bucking like he’s lost control of his body. His knees buckle and Jungkook has to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him from falling flat on the bed. Jungkook crawls up to stamp soothing kisses to his shoulder blades and neck, his chest pressed to his back, keeping his fingers pumping shallowly for another few moments until Jimin’s whining from the overstimulation.
“When’s the last time you were eaten out?” Jungkook asks teasingly, smiling into the hungry kisses Jimin’s attacking his mouth with, the older’s arms winding around his neck and rolling onto his back, keeping Jungkook on top of him.
“Never. F-fuck, never,” Jimin gasps between kisses, tipping his head back and moaning to the ceiling as Jungkook licks and bites all over his neck, sucking in marks that are sure to bloom black and maroon later on. Jimin’s hands are all over his back, dragging his nails, gripping his sides, and the friction of their cocks up against each other is too much.
“Never?” Jungkook’s appalled by this, finishing up a mark just beneath his ear. “You’ve got an ass like that and no one’s ever eaten it?”
Jimin shakes his head desperately. Their lips meet again and Jimin cups Jungkook’s face, rolling his hips up into him. “God, fuck me. Fuck me,” he begs, “holy shit, don’t ever fucking leave.”
Jungkook laughs and tugs Jimin’s lip with him as he pulls away, and Jimin giggles at his own neediness. If Jungkook could stay right there and fuck Jimin for the rest of his life, he thinks he would.
“Needy, hyung?”
“No shame. At all. I need you inside of me.”
“I was just inside of you.”
“Yah, listen.”
He takes Jimin’s place on his back and lets the older straddle his lap again, knees on either side of him. Jimin grabs the condom packet and opens it with his teeth, rolling the latex onto Jungkook’s cock and Jimin’s is quickly hardening. He pours a generous amount of lube into his hand - he always did like it wet - and slicks Jungkook up with it, mouth nearly watering at the thought of it being inside of him, taking him apart.
With Jungkook’s hands on his hips to guide him, Jimin lifts up and slowly lowers himself, one hand to Jungkook’s broad chest for leverage. They both gasp at the initial entry, trying to keep their eyes on each other. Jimin’s still a little sensitive from his orgasm so he’s already mewling with each rock of his body, both hands just beneath Jungkook’s bruised collarbones. Jungkook props himself up on one elbow while his other hand travels Jimin’s body, drinking in eyefuls of the sight above him, and when Jimin lets his head lower to Jungkook’s shoulder, the younger takes over.
Gradually he ends up pistoning his hips up fast, hard, mean - just like Jimin said he’d liked it in their earlier messages. And he definitely does, because he’s hiccuping out staccato moans with each movement and clenching around his cock to make the drag that much more intense. It’s loud: the creak of the mattress, the slap of wet skin, their groans mixing and escalating.
“Needed to get fucked right, huh?” Jungkook taunts, setting a brutal pace that has Jimin’s body going slack with pleasure. “You take my cock so well, hyung, like you were made for it.”
They switch positions more than once and it’s like they’ve been fucking for hours, rolling around on the slippery sheets and huffing into each other’s mouths, sweat on their necks and chests and the palms of their interlaced hands. Jungkook takes him from behind, pressed into the mattress with a deep and rough stroke, takes him on their sides, and now they’re face to face again, Jungkook jackhammering into him because they’re both so close now.
“Just like that,” Jimin moans high, head back and features screwed up in bliss, Jungkook’s nose buried in his neck and his hand on the wall above his head. “You fuck me so good, baby, so f-fucking good, ah -”
Jungkook lifts his head and watches the ecstasy on Jimin’s face from beneath his sweat-laden fringe. The wick of a firework is lit in the pit of his stomach and it’s going to burst any second. By the way Jimin’s trembling, scratching, nearly screaming, he can bet he’s in the same place.
“Gonna come for me, hyung? Gonna make a mess?” He brings a hand to Jimin’s jaw, tipping it so they’re looking at each other, holds it firmly. “Tell me who’s making you feel so good. Fucking you sloppy like this.”
“Y-you,” Jimin chokes out, “you, Jungkook, love.... l-love your cock s-so much, baby, feels so good,” he’s babbling now, chasing his orgasm with eager hips.
When Jungkook brings his hand down and jacks Jimin off with the same quick pace, the blonde is coming undone, arching his back high and shouting out Jungkook’s name, painting Jungkook’s hand, their bellies, their chests with quite honestly the hardest load he’s managed in a very long time.
It’s not long before Jungkook’s thrusts are stuttering and he’s coming just as hard, harder than he can ever remember achieving before. Jimin’s still moaning with every beat, clinging to Jungkook as the younger slides his fingers down the wall and his groans sound a lot like Jimin’s name.
They lay there for a short while, heavy breathing, drumming heartbeats, and distant traffic the only noise around. Jimin reaches over to grab some tissues from the box on the nightstand and cleans them both up while Jungkook ties off the condom and disposes of it in the little bin near the bed. Laying on their backs and staring at the ceiling, breathing finally beginning to even out, Jungkook’s starting to feel an anxiety he thought he’d left at the door.
What’s he supposed to do now? The end of the night is always the weirdest, when he’s supposed to leave or kick his date out after a fuck. Jimin’s bed and body heat are so warm, so comfortable - he wouldn’t mind staying. But knowing that all this was is a hookup, he doesn’t want to make it awkward. He doesn’t want anything to be awkward with Jimin after this.
So he clears his throat and sits up, draping his legs over the side of the bed and leaning over to grab his boxers, eyes wandering to the door where the rest of his clothes are piled on the floor. What’s he supposed to say? Does he thank him? Ask him out? Just say ‘bye’ and take off? The bed shifts behind him while he’s pulling on his underwear and Jimin’s sitting up now, hands folded inelegantly in his lap (that he’s pulled the covers up over now - is sex kitten Jimin feeling shy?).
“You um,” his voice is faint and if Jungkook wasn’t listening for it he might not have even heard it, “you can stay, if you want. You don’t h-have to but, um, I don’t want you to think I’m kicking you out. Y-you can stay.”
Jungkook looks over his shoulder at his date and finds something gentle on his face, hopeful. He’s sure his own face mirrors it as a relief settles into his tense muscles. “Are you sure?”
Jimin nods and a little smile takes over his red-bitten lips, drawing Jungkook’s eyes down. “Yeah, of course. Do you want to shower?”
Jungkook feels silly for having gotten anxious. Jimin’s so nice, has done nothing but make him feel comfortable all night. Still, he rubs the back of his neck when he nods. “Yeah, please.”
Jimin gathers some shower gel and shampoo and leads Jungkook to the bathroom, still unabashedly nude, and shuts the door behind them. Jungkook washes his hair for him, Jimin gets his back, they kiss slowly pressed up against the tile wall.
After they’re dressed in some of Jimin’s boxers and t-shirts, Jungkook offers to help change the sheets and makes the bed while Jimin takes the soiled bedding to a hamper in another room. As he’s pulling the sheet over one corner of the bed, a voice in the doorway startles him into letting go, the fabric curling up and bouncing away. There’s a guy standing there, no one Jungkook’s seen before, firetruck red hair, pajamas on, and toothbrush in his mouth. Has he been home the whole time? Jungkook’s face is set ablaze instantly.
“Hey, I’m Hoseok. Just wanted to say hi,” the guy grins, leaning in to bump Jungkook’s shoulder with his knuckles. “Thanks for fucking my friend. He needed it.”
Jungkook’s essentially a deer in headlights, doe eyes blinking a few times before he manages, “Uh, you’re... you’re welcome.”
Hoseok lowers his voice, looking out of the doorway to keep watch for Jimin. “Must have been a good lay, because he was smiling like an idiot. I think he likes you. Don’t fuck it up.” The redhead raises his eyebrows and walks away, leaving a trail of laughter behind him. Jimin comes back just seconds later, shouting to Hoseok to stay out of his room before he shuts the door. He looks mortified.
“What did he say?”
Jungkook blinks again and shakes his head. “Nothing. Just said hey.” Jimin narrows his eyes because he definitely doesn’t believe that but accepts it anyway, walking over to the bed to help Jungkook finish up. He mumbles something about Hoseok being a shithead and Jungkook can’t mistake the primrose flush of his cheeks. It makes him smile to himself.
When the lights are out and they’re in bed, Jungkook lies there fully aware that this isn’t his bed, and this isn’t his boyfriend or anything, so as much as he wants to roll over and snuggle up to him, he doesn’t know if he can. He laces his fingers together over his stomach and Jimin turns onto his side to face him. He brings a hand out to rest on Jungkook’s arm.
“You okay?” he whispers. Jungkook looks to the silhouette beside him and decides to turn over, too, facing him.
“Yeah, I’m good. Really good.”
He flashes a bunny-toothed smile and Jimin has to kiss it, slotting a leg between Jungkook’s. Jungkook’s pleasantly surprised, overjoyed even, and slips his arms around Jimin’s torso. His hair smells like vanilla when he nestles his nose into it, and Jimin’s breathing goes shallow quickly. It’s homey, right here.
(He really hopes they aren’t going to agree to never speak again.)
⋯
Jimin’s eyes close as soon as they try to open, the morning sun much too bright for him just yet. He scrubs his hands over his face and rubs circles into his eyes and tries again, squinting in the apricot light. When he twists his body to roll into the other side of his bed, he expects to find a sleeping figure there. When he’s met with simply the disarray of his comforter, he freezes.
Jungkook left.
Without an explanation, or at least a goodbye. Jimin knows he doesn’t even owe him that. He’s stupid to think he did or that he’d still be there when he woke up. He’d gone and made things awkward and now he’s kicking himself, sitting up with a slump in his back and an ache in his ass. A sour feeling in his chest.
He hears bustling around in the kitchen; Hoseok must be getting ready for work. He prays that he doesn’t come in to try to ask him about last night or give him a pep talk about how “that guy was a piece of shit anyway,” like he usually does after Jimin’s rare one-nighters. He’s definitely not in the mood for that.
He hates that he feels like he wants to cry.
There’s laughter from the kitchen but it’s more than just Hoseok’s. It’s bright, familiar, too loud for this time of morning (what time is it anyway?) like they’ve just heard the funniest joke of all time and Jimin furrows his brows, staring at the ajar door.
Then Jungkook is sliding into the room, still in Jimin’s pajamas, black hair adorably mussed, and a bowl of cereal in his hand. He’s spooning some into his mouth as he brings the door closed with his foot, and when he turns around to see Jimin awake and looking at him, he offers that bunny smile Jimin had already started to miss. Jimin can’t keep his eyes from widening.
“Good morning,” Jungkook greets him with a full mouth, “you want some cereal?”
Jimin is dumbfounded. “Did you just offer me my own cereal?”
Jungkook starts to giggle. “Hey, Hoseok said I could have some, it’s not like I just went in your cupboard and helped myself.” The mischief in his smile tells Jimin otherwise.
“You... I thought you left.”
Jungkook takes another bite of cereal and leaves the bowl on the desk before coming back to bed, nudging Jimin over with his knee and getting in. He pulls the blankets up, shivers a little from the temperature change, and nestles into the pillows. It’s like he lives there. Jimin watches him fondly.
“Did you want me to leave?” The way Jungkook is looking up at him is so childlike, innocent, sweet. Irritatingly cute. Jimin smiles and he really, really wants to kiss him again. Doesn’t ever want to forget what it feels like.
So he does just that. “No,” he murmurs, and Jungkook meets him halfway, a few chaste kisses and then a long one that has Jungkook’s hands sliding to the back of Jimin’s neck, pulling him down. It deepens easily but it’s slow, tender. So much different from last night.
Jimin’s moving onto Jungkook’s lap and pulling the comforter up over his shoulders because it’s a cold morning and they keep kissing like it’s the most natural thing in the world, the press of Jimin’s lips on Jungkook’s. He’s not sure who starts laughing into the kiss first, but the sound of it is refreshing.
“Are you trying to go again?” Jungkook teases, arms resting around Jimin’s neck, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Jimin delivers his best, brightest eye smile and kisses Jungkook on the nose.
“Yes.”
“Good. Me too.”
“You should do that thing with your mouth again,” Jimin mumbles, folding further into the bed with him and curling his fingers into the hem of Jungkook’s shirt. It was the wrong proposition to make, apparently, because Jungkook’s no one if not a little shit.
“I can do a lot of things with my mouth.”
Jimin throws his head back in brilliant laughter at the wiggle of Jungkook’s eyebrows and the megawatt smile on his face after the delivery. He’s annoying, so endearingly so, and Jimin’s thankful. Doesn’t want him to go anywhere. He only hopes that it’s mutual.
“You’re so annoying,” he tells him, eyes still crescents as Jungkook tickles his neck with his kisses and his nose. “I think I like you.”
Jungkook lets his head fall back against the pillow, watching Jimin with a fondness and admiration that compliments the glow in his eyes, on his cheeks. Jimin thinks he’s the most gorgeous boy he’s ever seen - has thought so from the moment he saw his profile picture - and for a second he feels a pang of embarrassment because he met him on Grindr of all places.
He’s thrilled that he doesn’t think he’ll ever have to use that god forsaken app ever again.
“I think I like you, too.”