Work Text:
jimin doesn’t even blink when sungdeuk hyung suggests that he be in charge of getting namjoon up to speed on the choreography.
and maybe namjoon should just be grateful that jimin doesn’t immediately start complaining, or find a polite and acceptable way to refuse. but it stings, a little, the way jimin accepts this role like someone was always going to have to take it and he didn’t especially care or mind if it had to be him.
it’s possible, perhaps, that namjoon is still sore and self conscious about how difficult this specific kind of choreography is for him.
“you’ll do great, hyung, you love drake sunbaenim!” jimin enthuses kindly, curling a hand around namjoon’s wrist and tugging him off into a corner that isn’t quiet - because none of them are in this room - but is at least not completely in the thick of things. because there’s a lot of things happening in the practice space right now, and namjoon needs neither the distraction nor an audience, for what’s about to happen.
“just think … swaggy thoughts, hyung,” jimin grins at him, all shining hope and dimples, and when he’s looking at namjoon like that, namjoon can almost, almost believe that maybe this will all work out okay.
maybe this will be just fine, after all.
♔
as jimin leads namjoon off into the farthest corner, he very seriously considers just walking right into the wall. with any luck at all he’d concuss himself, and that would be his ‘get out of jail free’ card. his golden ticket to get the fuck out of this situation.
namjoon is wearing one of his big shapeless grey tees, because they’re all far too hip hop to wear clothes that actually fit them, but the neckline of namjoon’s shirt scoops right down underneath his collarbones, and jimin can’t even hazard a guess at what he did to deserve this.
the choreography is already a problem. it’s the kind of routine that calls for really and truly feeling yourself, and jimin may have gotten really very good at feeling himself, but somewhere along the way he got so damn good at it that it crossed the line from jimin feeling himself to jimin feeling himself so much that he couldn’t help but let his eyes slide along the mirror to check if namjoon was maybe feeling jimin too, because when jimin was feeling himself he felt like everyone else did - or at least should - too.
it’s one thing to hip thrust at a mirror while sneakily trying to check if your bro is checking you out, but it’s a different thing entirely to have to watch your bro - your super hot, insanely charming, very smart and lovely bro - figure out how to feel himself from like, right up close. that’s do-able, if barely, in and of itself. but having to stand next to namjoon when he looks like that, when he is who and how he is, and work hard at looking alluring when namjoon does it completely effortlessly, without moving an inch or actually doing anything at all?
it’s unfair, is what jimin is saying.
he’ll do it, because he’s been asked to, because he’d help anyone with anything but he’d really like to help namjoon with everything, if at all possible, even if being this close to him under any circumstances always feels like a slow and extra cruel kind of torture.
it might not be as much fun as jimin might have if how he got to work one on one with namjoon was up to him, but it’s better than not getting to be one on one with him at all, so jimin will take it even though he knows it’s probably not going to be all that enjoyable, all things considered.
and then jimin watches namjoon try to follow along with the choreography for a handful of beats and realizes that actually, it’s even worse than that.
he’s gonna have to teach namjoon - who jimin has had a very huge but even more secret crush on for forever now - how to feel himself. and probably without ever getting to actually feel him at all.
this, jimin knows, is going to fucking suck.
♔
“no, hyung, look,” jimin says, and then goes right on refusing to actually look at namjoon at all.
“you don’t have to do the movements so sharply,” and jimin’s imitation of how namjoon has been trying to do this choreography is so flattering that it’s barely recognizable, in comparison. namjoon’s not sure whether that makes him feel better or worse about this whole thing. “it’s more about the - the vibe, you know? the feeling.”
namjoon frowns into the mirror - at himself, because jimin is still steadfastly looking everywhere but directly at namjoon - as he runs through the moves one more time as he has been. he tries to take what jimin is telling him on board, but no matter how much he thinks about it and tells his body to obey the instruction, it just doesn’t come across in what he’s doing. jimin is still running through the first section of the choreography next to him like because he can’t bear to look at namjoon butchering this, he’s hoping that if he just does it well right next to him, namjoon might be able to pick it up by osmosis.
thinking about that, and wondering, namjoon decides to donate his body to the science of this experiment. he stays still next to jimin, and just watches his body move.
he doesn’t let himself think about how impossible it will be for him to replicate the movements anything close to how jimin does.
he doesn’t let himself think about how much he’s both holding the whole group up and adding to jimin’s work load by sucking at this.
he just watches jimin. he looks at the reflection of his body in the mirror, and he doesn’t let himself think about anything at all.
feeling like he’s outside of his own body somehow, feeling like all he is is a watching thing, a formless entity that can only see jimin, was only ever meant to witness the way his body is moving right now, namjoon stares. nothing matters other than this. nothing even registers for namjoon, beyond the lines and curves of jimin’s body.
it’s easy for namjoon to forget all about how terrible at this he is, when all he has to focus on is how good jimin is at it.
it’s not so easy for him to stand there and watch jimin dance when he’s actually on purpose trying to be sexy and not combust on the spot.
jimin is an incredible dancer, and he has been since day one, since long before he came to them and offered up his talents. and all of them - even namjoon, unfortunately - have had to find ways to be at ease with looking alluring, to whatever degree they could manage that. and sure, jimin has always excelled at that more than any of them, which is great for them, good for him, and absolutely disastrous for namjoon specifically and personally.
because for most people, what this amounts to is watching their music videos or coming to their concerts and thinking ‘wow that park jimin is actually super sexy, huh?’ and then they get back to their homework or go home and go to bed and wake up the next day and continue on with their lives, relatively unaffected and unscathed by the experience.
but for namjoon, it doesn’t really work like that. at all.
the problem is that, for namjoon, his base point of association for jimin is ‘wow he’s actually super sexy.’ like, even when it’s first thing in the morning and jimin’s hair is stuck flat to his head on either side but sticking up like a cockatiel’s crest from his crown and he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet and jungkook drew whiskers on him while he slept that are smudged by now, namjoon thinks he’s super sexy. even when they crawl out of practice and namjoon watches jimin shove the tshirt that taehyung just whipped off down into his pants to mop up some of the sweat that’s swamping in his boxers, namjoon thinks he’s super sexy. and also that it’s a waste for jimin to dirty a whole shirt when namjoon’s tongue is like, right there.
but the point is that the average person can survive park jimin because they’re only confronted with his sexiness as a performance thing, as a infrequent and clear cut, very defined and largely limited thing.
for namjoon, ‘sexy as fuck’ is his base line comprehension of who and how jimin is.
so when you add in the fact that namjoon actually knows jimin - knows how kind and funny he is, how perfectly, cuttingly sharp he can be when he wants to, but only in ways that flay namjoon and everyone else of things they’re honestly better off without - and loves him in like eight different ways, not to mention the fact that namjoon gets to work with jimin, gets to figure out how best they can use themselves and their talents and one another to get across a message that’s special and important to both of them, to all of them, which is not even to touch upon the fact that namjoon lives with jimin and sees him all kinds of ways, all the goddamn time …
seeing jimin being sexy on purpose feels a lot like getting memory wiped in real life. or maybe like the opposite of that, because sometimes namjoon looks at jimin across a stage or through the reflection of a mirror and feels like he’s actually fifty seven different people crammed into one hapless, lust paralyzed body because the only thing those fifty seven people have in common is that every single last one of them wants to fuck the daylights out of park jimin. or have their clock cleaned by park jimin, except sexually. honestly, they’re not picky. however it goes down, they know it’s going to amount to total and utter sexual devastation and they are ready, they were born for this; it is their destiny and they will not have it denied them.
so yeah. no one man is an island or whatever, but namjoon sometimes feels like a super horny village when jimin is actually trying to be sexy, is the point.
and now he’s gotta stand there, watch jimin be sexy, and then try to be sexy himself.
half of that, namjoon has got down.
the other half ….
yeah. not so much.
♔
they’ve barely been at it half an hour and jimin is already sweating.
that’s not really anything to do with the choreography, though.
namjoon keeps pausing to just stand there and watch jimin, and that would be enough to get jimin a little overheated already, but things go from bad to worse when namjoon does that thing where he focuses completely on jimin, because unlike usual, he’s focusing directly on jimin’s body. mostly, namjoon’s focus is an intense enough spotlight to find yourself under when you’re speaking about something that’s important to you and namjoon’s eyes are examining every inch of your face like he can understand you better by finding more feelings you’ve hidden in your pores. it’s a lot, but jimin had no choice but to get used to it, even if he still never feels fully sane upon finding himself on the receiving end of it.
but now, namjoon isn’t looking at jimin’s face. if he’s seeking something in jimin’s pores, his treasure map seems to have pointed him in a different direction entirely, hot spots ringed around jimin’s throat, his hands. his waist and his thighs, too, even though they’re covered up. namjoon is looking at jimin like he can see right through his clothes. namjoon is looking at jimin like he might as well not be wearing any clothes at all.
and that makes sense, because they’re working on dance moves here, but it also makes jimin feel kinda like he’s losing his mind, because namjoon’s serious face - jaw tight, mouth pursed, eyes set, eyebrows dipped together in concentration - is a lot to take in at the best of times, and something that jimin feels like he can’t contain within himself when it’s directed specifically at studying jimin’s attempts to somehow make it look like he knows what he’s doing when he has to move like he wants all eyes on him, when actually he increasingly only ever really wants namjoon’s eyes on him. and also his hands. his mouth too. his mouth especially, maybe.
“i can’t tell if hyung is trying to fuck hyung through the mirror, or if hyung is watching hyung fuck himself through the mirror instead.”
jungkook has been working through the choreography behind them for a while, but takes a break now to sling an arm around taehyung’s neck and embarrass the shit out of jimin, instead. it is a hobby of jungkook’s that he finds a lot of time to devote to, even with their insane schedules.
“you know it gives us a headache when you use ‘hyung’ in a way that literally only makes sense to you,” taehyung complains, not correcting jungkook or rushing to jimin’s defense like a soulmate should, if you ask jimin. he spares a second to glare at taehyung, who only smiles at him sunnily in response.
“it doesn’t make a difference which hyung i mean,” jungkook says breezily, taking his hat off and perching it a jaunty angle on taehyung’s head, “either way it works. these hyungs are a mess, hyung.”
at this, namjoon frowns.
“hey,” he protests, “jimin is doing this perfectly. and i’ll get better at it, i swear i will.”
taehyung and jungkook look at each other in disbelief.
“oh my god, he thinks i meant the dancing,” jungkook says, like neither namjoon nor jimin are right there and listening to him. “oh my god, that’s so tragic. i’m so embarrassed for them.”
taehyung nods decidedly, and namjoon’s frown softens with his confusion.
“oh my god,” jungkook says once more, before he wanders off to terrorize someone else.
‘oh my god,’ jimin thinks, wondering how the fuck he’s going to face namjoon again without blushing.
♔
when the bangtan bomb noona pops her head in the door and asks if it’s okay if she films for a little while, namjoon is so grateful he almost falls to his knees in relief.
jungkook has just done what jungkook does best and appeared out of nowhere right when namjoon was about to cross the finish line with a smile on his face, chaos in his heart and a banana peel at the ready to ruin namjoon’s day.
he’s a sweet kid, all things considered, and he’d never purposefully do anything to embarrass or hurt any of them, but unfortunately he has also attended the min yoongi school of hard knocks and received special personal tuition from kim seokjin, and as such he is prepared at all times to blow right past all the carefully constructed and lovingly tended to straw men fallacies that they might like to put out into their fields to scare off the crows of harsh truth.
namjoon knows it’s embarrassing how obvious his crush on jimin is, but can’t he at least pretend he doesn’t sometimes? must he be both most of the way in love with jimin and embarrassed as fuck about how he’s actually completely in love with jimin all of the time, without pause or rest? does he truly deserve no solace?
they work through the choreography again from the top and jimin is focused and perfectly on beat, perfect in every single regard as usual, but namjoon feels exposed and a little sore because of it, and his concentration is all but shot. when hoseok walks up to tease them, it’s such a welcome interruption that both namjoon and jimin break easily into laughter.
and then hoseok and seokjin claim their turn at the mirror, and jimin flits around in the background for a minute, half-heartedly running through the choreography once more before he heads out into the corridor. he doesn’t look back to see if anyone is watching him go, but he doesn’t seem surprised when a second later, namjoon crosses the room and follows him out.
“we should grab a water break, hyung,” he suggests with a strange kind of weight to it that namjoon doesn’t understand, but he still readily agrees.
the grin has fallen from jimin’s face, and when he speaks his voice is low and quiet, a tremble underlying it if you strain to listen for even the things he doesn’t say, the way namjoon always does when jimin speaks.
jimin can’t quite look namjoon in the eye and this time it can’t have anything at all to do with how badly namjoon is butchering choreography or how poorly namjoon is concealing the fact that when his eyes follow the movements of every inch of jimin’s body, he’s thinking more about how badly he wants to re-discover that territory a different way, than he is about dancing or choreography or anything else.
it’s quiet when jimin leads him away deeper into the building, further from the noise and commotion, to ‘cool down’ while they re-hydrate.
and then jimin finally looks directly at namjoon, and takes a huge breath after he does.
and it’s then that namjoon - to his horror - realizes that they’re probably going to have to talk about this.
♔
“i’m sorry -”
“hyung, i’m sorry about -”
they speak at the same time, and that fact alone makes them both stop short.
it’s only in the silence that follows that jimin realizes what namjoon has said.
“wait. what are you sorry for, hyung?”
jimin is the one who can’t make it through this one simple task by merely doing what’s been asked of him because he’s too busy checking namjoon out to properly teach namjoon how to move his body in a way that invites other people to check him out. this is going terribly, and it’s all jimin’s fault.
namjoon lifts a hand back behind his head to scratch at the back of his neck the way he always does when he’s nervous, and the sight of his bicep when the sleeve of his cursed grey shirt falls away to reveal it, bare, makes jimin want to whimper. even when he’s about to get a no doubt very kind and empathetic lecture about not thirsting for people he doesn’t have a shot with, jimin is too busy thirsting to reflect and repent. ‘for shame, park jimin’, a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like seokjin says.
jimin already feels pretty bad about this whole thing, is what he’s saying, so if he has to stand here and listen to namjoon apologizing for not having this choreography down yet when that’s jimin’s fault for not being able to teach through his not entirely metaphorical boner, he might cry.
“i’m sorry for …” namjoon trails off, and starts to blush. jimin wants to kiss him on the apples of both cheeks and then climb him like a tree. “what jungkook said. me embarrassing him, and you probably, by …” his eyes fall to the floor and cut away to the side, like he has no idea how to continue his sentence.
jimin waits, but only silence follows, and namjoon still won’t meet his eye. it’s not unusual for namjoon to get so caught up in something or so overwhelmed by the speed and force at which his thoughts are coming that he needs a second to reconfigure and readjust, but it’s not often that jimin has ever seen him like this; at a total loss for what to say.
taking a step forward feels both self sacrificing and self serving somehow, when jimin does it. he ducks down to look up into namjoon’s face under the brim of his cap and is surprised to find that namjoon looks genuinely upset by whatever it is he’s trying and failing to say.
“by what, hyung?” jimin prompts gently, reaching blindly for namjoon’s hand and tangling their fingers together, “by not getting this choreography down quicker? that’s not your fault, hyung, that’s -” and he’s about to take responsibility for this problem, both rightfully and truthfully, but namjoon interrupts before he can.
“it is my fault, though,” he says miserably, his fingers gripping tighter at jimin’s hand like maybe he doesn’t realize how hard he’s holding on already, “i can’t make it work. i can watch you and see how it’s supposed to work, but i can’t do the kinds of things you can. my body wasn’t meant to move the way yours does and i don’t even know how to fake it.”
at this, jimin’s eyes narrow a little, squinting like if he looks at namjoon with more focus he’ll understand what he’s saying easier, somehow. he doesn’t take a step back or try to move away, even though he probably should.
“if that’s a short joke, hyung,” he starts, but once again he is interrupted before he can finish.
“it’s not a joke at all, jimin-ah,” namjoon says, exasperated. “or if it is, i’m the joke. you can dance like this like it’s nothing, like it’s easy, because it is for you. all you have to do is move and it’s hot, everything you do is sexy because you’re sexy and i - i can’t, jimin. i’m not able to do that, and i’m holding you up, i’m holding all of us back and i’m sorry.”
jimin’s mouth falls open so wide that he can feel his lower jaw hanging loose, no doubt unattractively. he stares at namjoon, waiting for him to say ‘psych’, or at the very least for him to start laughing, unable to hold a straight face any longer after this ridiculous prank, but namjoon just goes right on looking back at jimin miserably, his bottom lip jutted out in what could almost be considered the beginnings of a pout.
when, even after a significant pause, no one jumps out into the corridor to crow about the success of this hidden camera prank, jimin is both furious and hopelessly endeared.
“you think that’s what’s holding us up? you think it’s your fault? for not …” jimin can’t believe he’s about to say what he’s about to say, but he forces himself to get it out. “for not having a body that knows how to be sexy? that’s what you’re telling me right now, hyung?”
namjoon doesn’t disagree with any of this, flushed still with embarrassment, and jimin reacts to namjoon’s apparent shame the same way a bull reacts to the taunting flag of a reckless, fate-tempting matador.
namjoon dips his head in slow, miserable agreement, and all jimin sees is red.
♔
technically speaking, namjoon has pictured being pinned to a wall by park jimin like … a lot of times.
he’s thought about it in a wide of variety ways, for an even wider array of reasons, but though he’d previously considered his exploration of this position to be exhaustive, now that it’s actually happening, he finds himself surprised both by how it’s happening, and the fact that it’s happening at all.
namjoon is pretty sure he gasps before his shoulders even hit the plaster, but he’ll have to schedule some time to be embarrassed about that later, because jimin is holding him up against the wall with one hand planted in the center of namjoon’s chest, and because of the way namjoon’s shirt is hanging, that means that his fingers are mostly touching bare skin. honestly, namjoon might not survive long enough to feel embarrassed about this later.
“how is my body sexy, hyung?” jimin demands of him, his eyes blazing and his tone insistent - like he’s mad at namjoon for thinking that he’s hot. which is fair, because namjoon really has no right to have a crush on someone like jimin, but also if jimin is going to get this pissed off about people who don’t have a shot with him wanting him anyway, he’s going to have to clone himself several times over to keep up with the kind of workload that that will entail. “what exactly about how i move makes it seem sexy to you, hyung?”
namjoon can’t think straight with jimin this close to him. actually, namjoon wasn’t born with the necessary prerequisites to think straight ever, but he’s struggling to think at all right now, so in his compromised mental state, all he can do is spit out whatever comes to mind. he doesn’t know what jimin wants to hear, so he just answers the question honestly instead.
“it’s the way you move like you know that everybody that’s looking at you wants you?” he asks, panicked into a level of disclosure that’s a little closer to ‘full’ than he’s ever dared to let himself go before, “you move your body like you know that you’re the hottest person in the room, and you knowing that … you … being you, in a body like this, in a body that you can control like this …”
namjoon runs out of words right around the same time as he realizes that his breaths are getting suspiciously, incriminatingly shorter. jimin is still glaring at him, holding him where he is, and namjoon feels like he might just melt into a puddle on the floor, which would coincidentally also be the only way namjoon could get out of this position with jimin, because he’s never willingly moving from it.
jimin takes a step closer, tucking his fingers down inside namjoon’s shirt to close his fist in the material. his eyes haven’t left namjoon’s since he shoved him up against this flat stretch of wall in an out of the way, deserted corridor, and oh god. oh shit. oh fuuuuck.
namjoon’s knees buckle.
he catches himself with his hands pressed between his back and the plaster, the loud squeak of his sweaty palms betraying his desperation, but he doesn’t make any excuses for himself or try to stand back up any taller. like this, he and jimin are just about on eye level, and if namjoon is gonna die, he’d like to go out on a high. or … on a low, technically, he guesses. whatever, he doesn’t give a fuck about technicality, he just wants to be on jimin’s level. and also under jimin. pressed up against him literally any way he’s permitted to be.
jimin continues to glare at him, and namjoon has to make a concentrated effort to not just bare his throat, drop his pants and call it a day.
“and you think that’s why this choreography isn’t clicking for you?” jimin is talking to him like he can’t believe any of what he’s saying, and namjoon just follows along, nodding faintly, like he’s hypnotized. jimin is very, very close to him. namjoon has been compromised. he finds he doesn’t much mind. “because you don’t know how to move your body like you know everybody’s looking at you? like you know that everyone who’s watching you dance is thinking about what it would be like to get to fuck you?”
namjoon whimpers, but he thinks he manages to save some face by keeping the sound small, at least. but then jimin’s eyes widen, and his jaw sets like he’s clenching his teeth, and namjoon schedules one more shame session for later on, assuming he survives … whatever this is.
“for the smartest person i know, you can be really fucking dumb sometimes, hyung,” jimin says, something almost regretful lurking beneath the already dangerously low tone of his voice.
and like, namjoon really doesn’t disagree. he never feels as smart as people like to say he is. he’s not sure exactly what jimin means here, specifically, but he knows that no matter what jimin said right now, namjoon wouldn’t disagree.
“the reason you can’t get this choreography right, namjoon hyung,” jimin’s nostrils flare for a second, and namjoon bites down sharply at his own tongue. “is because i can’t teach it to you properly.”
as confused and inappropriately turned on as namjoon is, he’s not about to let jimin talk about himself like that. he’s seriously not ever about to let that kind of commentary on jimin’s ability to teach slide, but when he opens his mouth to set some things straight - or rather, to clear some stuff up in a super explicitly gay way - jimin slaps the palm of his free hand across it.
this time, namjoon doesn’t even try to stifle his whimper.
“and i can’t teach you, hyung, because i can’t look at you doing this choreography without thinking about what it would be like to get to fuck you. i can’t watch you do anything without thinking about how hot you are, how much i want you. but this choreography?” and when jimin finally breaks their eye contact, it’s only to trail his gaze slow and purposeful down the length of namjoon’s body and then all the way back up again, this new eye contact blazing now.
“having to stand next to you and watch you actually try to be sexy when all you ever are to me is so sexy that you walking into a room makes me trip over my own feet when i’m standing still?” jimin laughs, and it’s a sound with edges sharp enough to cut someone. “this isn’t working because i’m a fucking wreck around you, hyung. this is a disaster and that’s because of me and me alone.”
and namjoon already doesn’t understand a single angle of what’s going on here, but he feels like the moment turns somehow inside out when after saying this, jimin pulls his hand free from namjoon’s and takes a step back, shaking his head.
“so don’t for one second think this is your fault, hyung. don’t you dare tell me you don’t know how to be sexy.” he says it like a reprimand, like an order, and namjoon takes it that way, too. he feels like he did something wrong, only not the thing he’d thought he’d done wrong. he feels like some part of this conversation has gone very wonderfully right, but things still haven’t completely lined up perfectly, not like namjoon needs them to.
jimin goes right on speaking, all the fight seeming to have bled out of him now, his voice quiet, his head hanging low between his shoulders. he looks and sounds defeated, somehow. like he thinks he’s lost something, here.
“you’re sexy as fuck, hyung, maybe not in the exact same way that i am. but you shouldn’t want to be sexy like me. you’re sexy because of who you are. you’re hot without having to try to be. i look hot because i learned how to; i know how to fake sexy, but you’re the real deal.”
and oh. oh, this is where things are wrong still. this is what needs to be fixed, and like immediately, namjoon thinks. but jimin continues in a rush, his eyes falling away from namjoon’s face and his hands crossing behind his back like he’s nervous. like he feels awkward and uncomfortable.
“there’s no point in trying to be sexy the way i am, because it’s not real. it doesn’t work. not the way i want it to. i know how to dance in a way that makes total strangers think i’m hot for a couple of minutes, but no one that i’d want to be into me, the only person i want to want me doesn’t - ”
namjoon is in motion, his need to stop this - to fix this - quite literally pushing him forward before he even realizes he’d made the decision to move.
♔
it’s not the first or even the tenth time that jimin has nearly fallen to the floor because of kim namjoon, but it is the first time that it has happened because namjoon decided to walk forward until his chest collided with jimin’s and then just … keep walking. jimin has no choice but to move backwards, and so he does, until he finds himself with nowhere left to go.
there’s a solid wall at his back, and namjoon is tall and warm and terrifyingly real, still pressed up against jimin’s front. jimin has to tilt his head back to look up into namjoon’s face.
“park jimin,” namjoon softly snarls his name, and jimin thinks he might be in love.
“you were the hottest person in that room we just left.” jimin squints at him, but when he tries to protest, namjoon honest to god bares his teeth at him. “and this morning? before the car came to pick us up, when you were sleeping on hoseok’s shoulder, standing up in the hallway? you were the hottest person in the building. when we fly back from an overseas schedule, the second you step off the plane, you’re instantly the hottest person in this country. again.”
absurdly, jimin blushes.
“i know i’m hot, hyung,” he says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, because of course he knows he looks good. he doesn’t miss the way he’s looked at. but it’s a different thing. “but it’s not the same. i can be sexy in a general and non-specific kind of way, but -”
“but what, jimin? you want to be sexy in a specific way? what kind of specific way?”
jimin lifts his chin, and namjoon’s drops accordingly, like their faces are magnetized.
“i want to be sexy to a specific person,” jimin would try to make himself look alluring as he says this, but he doesn’t know how. he has no idea what his face is doing. he has no idea why namjoon’s eyes seem to get darker, his irises blown out. “i only care about looking sexy if that specific person is the one who thinks i look that way. i only want to be hot for -” his voice falters, his breath leaving his lungs in a rush, but he’s come this far, he might as well step off the ledge. “- for you, hyung. i only want to look sexy to you.”
and maybe jimin’s body is the cause of this whole problem, maybe jimin’s body and how they both think it moves is why their whole day has been derailed, but jimin is nothing but thankful for his body and its quick reflexes when namjoon squats down a little, gets both his arms locked up under jimin’s ass, and then lifts him into the air until all that’s holding him up is the wall at his back and namjoon between his legs, namjoon pressing jimin’s hips against the wall with his own so his hands can slide down jimin’s thighs and get his knees spread wide around namjoon’s waist.
it’s really only jimin’s reflexes that lead his arms to find their way around namjoon’s neck, his elbows resting on namjoon’s shoulders so his hands can stack themselves one on top of the other at the back of namjoon’s neck.
jimin thinks maybe he should be shocked, when namjoon leans in a rubs his nose against his, but all he is is incredibly pleased, instead.
“i can’t do this stupid fucking choreography because i can’t do anything when you’re beside me looking like this, jimin,” namjoon says, low and strained against jimin’s mouth. “i don’t know how to be sexy because there’s only one way i’ve ever seen it, and it’s you. it’s you, just like this,” namjoon’s eyes are painfully, beautifully earnest and the overall affect is really only added to by the way his hands are slowly sneaking back up to cup jimin’s ass, if you ask jimin.
jimin blinks at namjoon, forcing himself not to let his eyes fall from namjoon’s even though namjoon only looks up at him from under his eyelashes after very clearly considering jimin’s mouth, for an endless second.
“oh,” jimin says, when namjoon doesn’t take it back. when namjoon stays like this; holding jimin in a compromising position in an abandoned hallway, but looking at him like jimin’s got a sword pointed to his throat. “you think i’m sexy, hyung?”
namjoon nods, slow. he closes his eyes for a beat, his eyelashes fanning a dark shadow against his skin, fluttering like no part of him knows how to be truly still right now.
“i can’t really think about anything else, when i’m around you,” he admits, low and close; his voice a warm rumble.
“but that’s all the time, hyung,” jimin points out, not not teasingly. “we’re together almost always.”
“yup,” namjoon agrees easily, this eyes dropping low on jimin’s face again and his throat moving under a long swallow. “and the whole time i’m thinking about you. thinking about how badly i wanna touch you. thinking about all the things i’d do to you, if i ever got to.”
“but why didn’t you say, hyung?”
jimin wriggles his hips a little, mostly luxuriating in the strong hold namjoon has of him, but he can’t say it’s not gratifying when namjoon’s eyes widen a little and then his jaw clenches, his teeth making a soft snapping sound as he closes them together. he breathes in sharply through his nose, hiking jimin up a little higher while he stares him down with dark eyes.
“because i thought i’d just be making a fool of myself. making things awkward for everyone.” his forehead creases up, his eyebrows pitched down into a pained expression. “why would i ever think i could tell you how i felt and not just get laughed at, jimin-ah? not by you, i know you’d let me down gently, but c’mon. anyone who heard i had the audacity to shoot my shot with you would think that’s the funniest thing they’d ever heard. just look at you.”
and that’s gratifying, it really is, but -
“why would i want to look at me when i could look at you instead, hyung?” jimin asks plainly. namjoon’s fingers tug slightly at jimin’s pockets, a nervous gesture that feels like the beginnings of a retreat when he slides his hands from jimin’s ass up to his hips, and then to his waist. over his clothes, which sucks already, even before his left foot starts to move, his hands on jimin’s waist clearly there to set him down again.
jimin locks his legs behind namjoon’s back, the crush of his thighs against namjoon’s flanks making it clear that namjoon’s not letting him go until jimin is ready to not be here in his arms like this anymore, and that he probably shouldn’t count on that happening any time soon.
“don’t get shy on me now, hyung,” jimin says softly, sliding his hands from the back of namjoon’s neck up either side of it, his thumbs up under namjoon’s jaw to tilt it so namjoon has to lift his head and look at him. “don’t hide from me, hyung. let me see you. because i always want to look at you. i’m always looking right at you, hyung.”
namjoon does as he’s told, obedient as he lets jimin examine his face. he holds still and stays where he is and when jimin’s eyes linger on his lips his hands grip hard at jimin’s waist for a second and then he blushes like he’s embarrassed.
“you have nothing to ever be embarrassed about with me, hyung. i think you’re beautiful. you know i love you, right? you know i respect you, and you have to know how much i like you, all the little bits and pieces of who you are. i love them all, hyung, but i love the package just as much as i love what's inside of it,” jimin says, feeling lost in the wonder of this moment, hazy with the joy of it; namjoon letting him do this, namjoon letting him have him, like this. “every which way i’ve ever seen you was something i wanted to remember. every inch of this ridiculously lovely body is somewhere i want to touch, namjoon-hyung.”
now, namjoon’s eyes go soft. where his expression had been threatening to pinch, his surprise seems to make him unfurl. he looks dazed, when he opens his mouth, struggling to speak.
“but i - i don’t -” he looks into jimin’s eyes, and jimin looks right back at him. “really? do you really?”
“oh hyung,” jimin says, ducking in under the brim of namjoon’s cap so he can touch their noses together just like namjoon had done, their mouths too close together and jimin knows he can’t kiss namjoon like he so very desperately wants to. not here. not like this.
“let me show you, hyung,” he says.
namjoon stares at him, not understanding. his eyes are wide, uncomprehending.
so jimin breaks it down into smaller parts, for him.
“put me down, hyung,” jimin orders gently, and instantly, namjoon complies.
“come with me, hyung,” jimin says, one hand held out to namjoon before he even has both feet back on the ground.
and still seeming stunned, silently, namjoon follows.
♔
it’s late into the night, so they don’t meet anyone in the corridors when jimin leads namjoon through the maze of them, stopping in front of a door and then looking to namjoon.
it takes namjoon a second to realize that they’re in front of his studio. he hadn’t noticed that this was where jimin was taking him, so caught up had he been in the fact that jimin wanted to take him anywhere, and he almost feels silly for that, now.
he doesn’t know how exactly jimin intends to show namjoon something that namjoon would love to believe, but doesn’t know how.
but jimin seems to be waiting for namjoon to lead them inside, so he does. it’s only when he’s pushing the door open that he looks down at the handle and realizes that although there’s no lock or keypad to get into his studio, it can be locked from the inside by lifting the handle.
at first, that seems like an alien thought to have occur to him, apropos of literally nothing, but then he realizes as he’s moving through the open doorway that he’d stopped in his tracks, and is moving now by virtue of jimin having come up behind him to press him forward. to push him inside. and with the heat of jimin warm and so close, up against him, namjoon thinks maybe the mechanism of a locked door isn’t a strange thing to find himself thinking about at all.
namjoon finds himself standing alone in the middle of the room, and turns to look back at jimin, confused. they’ve been having this conversation for like ten minutes, and already his body has gotten used to the familiar weight of jimin’s against it. he misses him, now. and he’d feel silly for that too, but when he looks to jimin, he’s leaning back against the inside of the door.
holding eye contact with namjoon, he reaches to lift the handle of the door until it clicks, locking.
namjoon swallows thickly, adrenaline rushing over him in excitement, in delight, in something like the good kind of nervousness that jungkook seems to thrive on, the kind namjoon hadn’t totally understood the workings of until right now.
jimin doesn’t make a move to turn the lights on, so they’re standing in the faint secondhand brightness cast in from the lights out in the hallway. it’s barely enough for namjoon to be able to make out the expression on jimin’s face, but just about. going so quickly from having jimin up against a wall under burning fluorescents to being locked away with him in a small, mostly dark space makes namjoon heart kick up into a loud drum beat in his chest. he’s sure jimin has to be able to hear it from across the floor.
but when he comes to namjoon, it’s not to tease him.
“we have a little while, hyung,” he says, sounding regretful about that, but sure about something else. “we don’t have nearly long enough for me to do this properly, but if you let me, if you want to, i want to show you how i see you. i need you to know how i feel about you, namjoon-hyung.”
namjoon’s hands are lifting, searching for jimin before he’s even within arm’s reach.
he still can’t believe it, doesn’t understand how it can possibly be true, but when jimin says it, namjoon listens. if jimin wants to show him, maybe namjoon can learn.
“anything you want,” he tells jimin, voice hushed maybe because this room feels like a hidden, secret place like this; almost dark and silent around the two of them, where normally it’s bright and loud with namjoon alone at the heart of it. “i want whatever you’ll give me.”
when jimin finally leans in, his hands on namjoon’s chest again and namjoon shivering at the warmth of him, the closeness of him, kissing him feels like the simplest, easiest thing in the world.
♔
jimin’s heart is going to beat its way right out of his body.
he puts his hands on namjoon, here where he’d lead him away to have him alone, and when he lifts onto his toes to reach him, namjoon bends to meet him halfway.
the shine in namjoon’s eyes is the last thing jimin sees before his own eyes slip shut, because feeling takes over from seeing.
namjoon’s mouth is soft, when jimin’s lips touch it. he holds himself carefully, his body opened up for jimin but staying that way, not reaching out beyond the slow part of his lips and the gentle cup of his hands up under jimin’s elbows.
and that’s enough. just that. the quiet delicacy of their first touch is the counterpart to the frustration and the longing and the confusion that had lead them here.
jimin kisses namjoon carefully, sweetly, because he adores him.
his hands slide slowly up over namjoon’s collarbones, his fingers hooking up over the lovely bare skin where namjoon’s shoulders meet his neck. and then he turns namjoon - beautiful, trusting namjoon, who has put himself in jimin’s hands - and pushes him down onto the couch they’re standing next to.
♔
before the gasp that’s knocked out of namjoon can even end, it’s clipped and bitten off as jimin straddles him.
before namjoon’s eyes can adjust to the change in light, his cap is gone off his head and flung away to one side.
jimin’s hands are in his hair, he’s shockingly warm, heavy and real in namjoon’s lap, and when he kisses namjoon this time, it’s a wholly different experience.
this time, jimin’s fingers twist into the long hair at the crown of namjoon’s head and hold tight. this time, when namjoon’s lips part automatically for jimin, jimin slips his tongue between them and groans low at namjoon like he’s pleased. this sends a bolt of something sharp and molten through namjoon, a hot strike of something that feels a whole lot like pride.
“i wanna do this every time you stand in front of me, talking to me with this mouth when there’s better things to do with it, hyung,” jimin’s voice is so low it makes namjoon shiver. “can’t you share your bright ideas with me after you’ve let me have a taste, hyung?”
without namjoon having noticed, his hands have found their way up underneath jimin’s sweater. but when his palms find bare skin, all he can do is notice. all he can feel is jimin; all soft skin and solid muscle against him, kissing namjoon like he’s been desperate to, because apparently he has.
“and don’t even talk to me about this neck of yours,” jimin is saying now, griping really, as he tugs namjoon’s head back sharply, a sweet slice of pain that makes namjoon’s ass come up off the cushions of the couch for a second. jimin lifts an eyebrow at this, and rolls his hips in namjoon’s lap like that’s in any way at all an acceptable response.
“what is this shirt, hyung? are you trying to kill me?” the shirt in question doesn’t even slightly get in the way when jimin presses his whole face in against the line of namjoon’s throat, his mouth meeting namjoon’s adam’s apple in an open mouthed kiss and then dragging down to do the same to the dip between namjoon’s collarbones.
mostly, namjoon had been thinking about staying relatively cool and comfortable during dance practice, but if this is what wearing scoop neck shirts gets him, he’s about to start rocking up to work in his briefs.
“the audacity, hyung,” jimin says, shaking his head in something like disbelief, and then dipping his head to lick wet and hot up along the tendon in namjoon’s neck. “the audacity of you, to tell me you don’t know how to be sexy when you’re standing there like this, one hundred and eighty one centimetres of wet dream come to life.”
he looks at namjoon as he says this; namjoon’s head still tilted back by his fist in namjoon’s hair, and like this, with jimin in his lap, he’s sitting a little taller than namjoon, looking down at him for once.
“i touch myself thinking about getting to touch you, hyung,” jimin leans in to say this, shares it like a secret, and namjoon’s hands climb higher beneath his sweater; get the soft white material of it bunched up at his elbows when he reaches as far up under it as he can to grip at jimin’s back and bring him in. namjoon kisses jimin more desperately than jimin had kissed him, he thinks. because maybe they’d both been pretty fucking desperate to kiss each other, but now namjoon is driven desperate by something else, too. by jimin wanting him, like this. by jimin deciding to finally have him, like this.
“me too. i do, too. i want you so bad,” namjoon says, the words feeling and sounding like they’re broken out of him; all cracked and straining syllables because namjoon is going to pieces, under jimin.
when jimin pulls away, he lifts his hands out of namjoon’s hair and gasps something like a laugh when namjoon’s head just falls back against the top of the couch, like jimin’s hands were the only thing holding him in place. it feels like they were. it feels so good, to have jimin push and pull him around, for him to take namjoon’s body in his hands and do whatever he wants, with it. because he wants it. jimin wants him. jimin wants him and that knowledge makes namjoon feel powerful and proud and purposeful in a way he has never experienced before. it's like his dream has come true, only it hasn't. not quite yet. but it's going to, and knowing that is almost better. jimin wants him, and knowing that jimin is going to have him makes namjoon feel like maybe everything is going to be okay after all; like maybe there's a grander plan and true purpose to life and everything about it after all, because for namjoon the specifics of that have just fallen into his lap. literally. jimin wants namjoon, and getting to be had by jimin is what namjoon was born to do. he looks up at jimin, sitting so pretty - so absurdly, insanely fucking hot - astride him, staring right back at namjoon like he's got all the answers to any question namjoon could come up with, like he's absolutely certain of that, and namjoon knows why he exists, now. what he's for. jimin is looking at him like wars could be ended by jimin touching namjoon; like truth and justice and true, absolute meaning is what will come from him fucking namjoon. and namjoon knows without a doubt, beyond pause or query, that his purpose is to be had by park jimin.
and then jimin is shifting backwards in namjoon’s lap; his ass dragging torturously and purposefully slow against the bulge in namjoon’s pants, and what namjoon knows suddenly becomes this: the single thought - like ancient and innate knowledge, pre-dated in him, somehow - that getting had by jimin and getting to have him, too, is going to be namjoon's sole pursuit, from here on out. because whatever jimin is prepared to give namjoon, namjoon is going to take and take and take and until jimin says so, there will be no pause or doubt or second thoughts for namjoon. jimin bounces slightly, his ass a fat jiggle that cushions the sharp, certain movements of his solid, muscle-stacked hips, and namjoon holds onto him tighter, stares up at him a little more starry-eyed, and vows that there will be no stopping him, once jimin lets them start this.
"look at these thighs, hyung," he says, his knees squeezing in tight around the thighs in question on either side. "i can't wait to get my face between these. and you're lucky you're sitting down for this, because if i'd gotten a single glimpse of your ass, i'd have you bent over your mixing desk by now."
namjoon chokes back a sob and swallows down the urge to turn over for jimin and beg. when jimin’s hands drop to cup namjoon through his clothes, namjoon sits up out of his boneless slump so fast that he gets lightheaded. although that could also be entirely down to the way jimin is palming at his cock, which has now never been harder in namjoon’s life.
“i wanna do something about this, hyung,” jimin says, “and this, as well,” he adds, rutting forward again with his hips tilted down now so namjoon can feel that he’s hard, too. “but we don’t have much time, and i don’t think i want to fuck you for the first time in your studio, no offense.”
“none taken,” namjoon is lightning quick to assure him. “you should fuck me wherever you want to,” namjoon feels stupid as soon as he’s said it, feels like maybe an hour ago he’d have died of the embarrassment of saying that to jimin, but now only blushes a little. "fuck me however you decide you want to. if you want to."
“oh, i want to. and i plan to, hyung,” jimin says easily, the glint in his eye making namjoon feel like he just ran a sharp claw down the length of namjoon’s spine. “but the first time should be special.”
it confuses namjoon, that jimin is saying what he’s saying, but getting up on his knees over namjoon so he can start wriggling namjoon’s pants and underwear down off his hips, as he’s speaking.
“the first time i fuck you, i’m gonna want to take my time. i’m gonna need to get you spread out against a nice sturdy bed, that won’t rattle too loud or give out too easily, because by the time i let you up off of it, you’re probably going to have to crawl, hyung.”
and namjoon’s hips would have come up off the couch at that regardless, but right now it serves the dual purpose of getting him pressed up harder against jimin and making it easier for jimin to get the elastic of namjoon’s waistbands halfway down his thighs and well out of jimin’s way.
“i’m gonna fuck so many orgasms out of you, hyung, your legs will shake for weeks, after.”
now that he’s got namjoon bare, jimin looks down at his cock, dark at the head already and looking huge in jimin’s hands.
“fuck,” jimin says quietly, and namjoon can’t help but nod in agreement, because fuck.
“once i get us properly naked together hyung, with time on our side, i’m gonna make you come with my mouth, on my tongue, and then on my cock. if you're good, i'll get you spread out on top of me and let you hump my leg until you come just like that, too, hyung."
it's a good thing that jimin's weight is pinning namjoon down onto this couch, because he's pretty sure that if he was left to his devices right now, he might just spontaneously evaporate. that jimin wants him like this - that jimin wants him this much - makes namjoon feel like every blood cell in his body has gone hot.
"please," namjoon says, and it's all he can say. jimin is offering him everything he's ever wanted, and he's telling namjoon that all he has to do in return is be good and ... be himself? the math on that won't work out no matter how many times namjoon runs it in his head, but jimin is running his mouth again and namjoon doesn't have time to think about literally anything else.
"i'll be so sweet to you, hyung. i'll give you everything you want, anything at all that you ask me for. and i’ll want you to remember that, hyung, that very first time,” jimin remains conversational, even as he’s bringing his own palm to his mouth, getting it wet with his spit so that when he gets his hand around namjoon’s cock, the slide is easy in an instant. and the fact that this is jimin, sitting in namjoon’s lap, easily informing namjoon of exactly how he wants to fuck him while he has his hand on namjoon’s cock, while he’s looking at namjoon like he’s genuinely struggling not to eat namjoon alive, makes want and pleasure and greed twist so hard at namjoon’s belly that he gasps because of it.
“because after that, hyung, things might become a bit of a blur for you.” even the sound of jimin slowly jacking namjoon’s cock is overwhelming to him. sounds deafening in the shadowy silence of namjoon’s studio. “after that, hyung, i’m gonna touch you and kiss you and love you and fuck you however you let me, whenever i can. wherever, however. every chance i get, i'm gonna wanna get at you, hyung. and you'll let me, right?"
namjoon can’t help it. he knows that jimin is running this show and that’s exactly how namjoon likes it, but it’s too soon. it’s too new, this permission to be this close to jimin; to look at him like this, to touch and be touched by him this way. the promises he makes are too close to something namjoon has never even let himself imagine, outside of his fantasies. he sits up properly, getting his feet under him so he can shift them both until they’re eye to eye now and namjoon can lean forward and kiss jimin.
“don’t say things that you don’t mean,” he pleads, after sucking softly at jimin’s bottom lip and then coaxing jimin’s tongue into his mouth, sucking at the tip of it until jimin’s making low sounds in the back of his throat and his hand goes tight around the head of namjoon’s cock. “don’t get my hopes up if you don’t mean it, because i want all of that. i want you to have me however you want me, all the time, anytime you like, because i want all of you, jimin-ah. i have for so long.”
“and you’ve got me, hyung,” jimin tells him breathlessly.
so when he shifts off namjoon’s lap and starts to climb back off him, namjoon both doesn’t understand and starts to panic. but before he can say anything, jimin is pushing a hand through his messy bangs and bending to kiss him on the forehead. and then cupping namjoon’s chin in his hand so he can lift it to kiss him properly, while his other hands starts untying the drawstring of his own pants.
“so the plan is that we’re gonna jerk off together, quick and dirty to get it out of our systems, because we have to go back to work and i need to be able to not jump you in front of everyone,” jimin sounds genuinely concerned about this, which again makes pride strike sharply namjoon, makes his shoulders settle down and back a little, his chest pushed forward maybe just because that’s where jimin is. “and then we’re going to nail this choreography, so we can go home and figure out the best time for me to nail you, ‘kay?”
namjoon nods enthusiastically, entirely shamelessly, and this time when jimin climbs into his lap, even though this instance involves considerably less fabric between them than the last, namjoon is ready for it.
♔
it’s ridiculous, jimin thinks, that namjoon looks at him like he’s the one in shock, when jimin gets the two of them lined up against one another and has to use both hands to jerk them off together.
namjoon looks down at where they’re pressed together; one of jimin’s hands curled around their shafts although he’s only really got his thumb around his own - his fingers more than occupied with namjoon’s cock - and the other hand cupped hot over the head of namjoon’s cock, his palm spread so that when he ruts his hips up, his own tip can push up into the sticky little puddle of namjoon’s pre-come that’s got his hand and now both of their cocks wet enough for the slide to be easy. too easy.
“you feel so good against me, hyung,” jimin mostly moans, his breath stuttering in his chest when namjoon sets his shoulders back against the couch. he doesn’t know if it’s hotter to think about how namjoon is just letting jimin do whatever he wants with him, totally content to give himself up to jimin’s hands, or whether it’s hotter still to think that this is namjoon’s way of encouraging jimin to look at him; laying himself out for jimin to see, bare now and so trusting. “you look fucking good, too. so hot, hyung. i’m gonna treat this body so right, namjoon-hyung. you’ll be safe and sound in my hands.”
it’s barely a thought process, when jimin sways forward to set his mouth around namjoon’s nipple. he’d stripped namjoon’s shirt off right after his own pants had hit the ground, and his sweater and tshirt had topped the pile a second later. it should be cold, the two of them mostly naked in namjoon’s dark studio, but the heat of their bodies is more than enough, and the knowledge of what they’re doing could keep jimin warm through the whole winter, he’s pretty sure.
“thank you for letting me touch you, hyung,” he murmurs, words twisted by how his tongue won’t stay in his mouth and leave the peak of namjoon’s nipple alone, “thank you for letting me have this.”
namjoon’s hands had been lying uselessly at either side of his thighs, but they come up to cup jimin’s face now, and jimin surfaces from the haze of feeling namjoon’s heart pound in his chest through this lips to find namjoon’s face a mixture of blissed out and strained; his eyes almost sleepy seeming in his pleasure, but his jaw tight, the corner of his mouth dimpling every time jimin jerks in his lap to slide their cocks together better, his hands getting faster and wetter.
“don’t,” namjoon groans, and jimin’s hands falter, but only for a second. “don’t stop,” namjoon says in a rush, panicked, “but don’t thank me for this. you’re giving me everything i ever wanted. this is a literal dream come true, right now.” he drops his hands to jimin’s ass, each hand clenching big and strong around jimin’s cheeks so he can drag him forward, so he can pull him down and push his hips up into the stack of jimin’s hands. when he kisses jimin this time, it’s like they’ve done it a thousand times before. their lips move together, the part of them syncing like they’re practiced at this, the push and slip of namjoon’s tongue barely, barely enough for jimin before it’s gone again and jimin has to chase after it.
“you’re a dream, jimin-ah,” namjoon says, with his eyes closed and his jaw still tight, his fingertips digging in so nicely that jimin bounces lightly in his lap just to get to settle back into the grip of namjoon’s hands, lets his index finger trace up under the head of namjoon’s cock just to make namjoon’s hands flex and hold him tighter.
“i’m gonna come,” jimin has to say, because it might not the most romantic response, but it would probably be a much worse vibe killer if he came on namjoon’s cock without at least a word of warning. “you’re too hot and you feel too good and you’re too sweet and beautiful and you’re super fucking hot, did i say that already?”
namjoon’s cheeks dimple around his shy smile, and jimin’s balls draw up.
“the point of this was to be quick, jimin-ah,” he says, nosing at jimin’s jawline to get him to tilt his head. “i don’t mind going back to work a little messy. it’s not gonna bother me to sweat so much when i know i’ve probably got your come in my underwear.”
and yeah, it’s really never going to take more than namjoon saying something like that to jimin, so he doesn’t even feel bad about it when he starts to come first, the hand he has over both of them catching it so it falls back down mostly over namjoon’s cock. even when he’s still jerking and over-sensitive now, all he can think about is getting both his hands on namjoon, so he shifts back to take himself out of the equation and really focuses now; one of his hands free to play with namjoon’s balls while the other jacks him off fast and tight with jimin’s come.
when he looks up into namjoon’s face, his hyung’s expression is stunned. his chest is rising and falling like he’s at the end of a gym session and his jaw is so tight now that the muscle just under his ear is visibly jumping. god, jimin wants to devour him.
“come here,” he tells namjoon. “chin up for me, hyung,” he instructs, so he can kiss namjoon without getting distracted from the task literally at hand. “let me kiss you while i make you come.”
it’s almost mean, because he knows now that namjoon gets off on jimin telling him what to do, likes it a whole lot when jimin shows him who is in charge here, if that’s the way namjoon wants it. but they’re really cutting it fine on their break time and the quicker they get out of here, the quicker they can be done and at home and cuddled up in bed together.
namjoon whimpers into jimin’s mouth, and that would make jimin smirk, if he wasn’t busy driving his hyung to distraction with his tongue instead.
“so pretty like this, hyung,” he puts his mouth up under namjoon’s ear to say, “so good for me, letting me touch you just ‘cus i asked. what else are you gonna do for me, if i ask nicely, hyung? how else can i have this cock, hm?”
when namjoon comes, he’s loud. he groans long and low and even after that he whines a little, a softly pained hum, and he sounds so good; he looks so good that jimin knows he’d easily get hard again already if only he could let himself.
as is, he only holds namjoon through it, his hands still now and gentle, meant only to provide comfort, until namjoon sits up some and lifts one of jimin’s hands to his mouth.
when he kisses the palm of jimin’s hand, he has to lick some of both their come off his lips after. he only smiles softly at jimin, and then lets jimin curl his fingers around namjoon’s index finger so he can kiss the line of jimin’s knuckles, sweet and still smiling.
“how do you feel, hyung?” jimin asks cautiously, post nut clarity making him wonder if he took this too far, too quick.
“i feel … kind of invincible?” namjoon says, his hands falling to jimin’s thighs so he can gently knead at his muscles, the heat of his palms soothing even when the slight roughness of them and the fact that they belong to namjoon is nothing but inciting.
“let’s go destroy this choreography so i can get you home and into my bed, please,” namjoon requests, ever polite, and jimin’s relief makes him sway forward for another kiss, even though they really don’t have time.
the clean up process is slow, too, hindered by the fact that every time jimin has to touch namjoon to pass him a wet wipe or help him pull his pants back up, namjoon giggles and tries to hold his hand.
“hyung,” jimin says, aiming for scolding but falling firmly on ‘fond’ instead, “hyung we’re on the clock, here.”
it doesn’t escape jimin that even though he could never even think of scolding namjoon while they’re practicing or literally almost any other time, he finds it easy to do so now, here like this.
“i know, but you like me,” namjoon grabs for jimin’s hand the second he’s finished cleaning it off so he can spin him in against namjoon’s chest. “you think i’m cute and ‘super fucking hot,’” he says, and jimin can hear his grin, even though namjoon has his face turned down to hide in against jimin’s hair, both of his arms crossed over jimin’s shoulders to hold him back against namjoon’s chest. “you have a crush on me, so i can do this. i told you, i feel invincible. i can do whatever i want.”
and jimin knows, in some far off part of his brain that this is probably going to come back to bite him in the ass, but much more pressing is the fact that namjoon had had to tip half a water bottle over his chest to hide the way jimin sucking at his nipples through his shirt had given him suspicious wet spots.
so ultimately, jimin doesn’t feel obliged to argue with this.
“let’s get this over with, hyung,” he says, bending to pick namjoon’s cap up off the floor and then nearly losing all feeling in his legs when namjoon uses this as an excuse to grind up against his ass.
“so we can go home and get me under you?” namjoon asks, all deceptively airy tone and sweet smile still, and jimin is in serious trouble, but it’s not anything he didn’t go looking for.
“you can joke, hyung, but you might want to add more squat reps to your gym routine” he warns, “because as soon as we have a day off and even a little bit of privacy, i’m putting your ass to work.”
namjoon only grins, and presses a kiss to jimin’s cheek, and then hand in hand they make their way back to the source of some frustrations that have already been dealt with, but one that still needs to be tackled before their work is done for today.
“okay, let’s go,” jimin says, not making eye contact with anyone else in the room when he moves to the front of the mirror and waits for namjoon to step up at his side.
namjoon does, and then he nods.
jimin counts them in, and this time … well … this time, things go a lot more smoothly.
♔
“do you have some kind of secret method? a shortcut? how did he go from that to this so quickly?” hoseok demands, looking between namjoon, off to one side running through the choreography with seokjin, and jimin, sitting against the wall to watch him. and to hide his boner.
not looking away from the lines of namjoon’s body but trying not to think about the fact that he knows what those feel like, now, jimin only shrugs.
it’s later now, and they’re backstage and already through with hair and makeup, but with more wait time on their hands before they’re called.
he thinks it’s decidedly uncalled for that namjoon has his tie on already, all neatly knotted right up at his collar like he doesn’t know it makes jimin crazy, but that’s okay. they can talk about it later, when jimin has namjoon’s hands bound behind his back with that tie.
jimin is already trying to find a way around his own suggestion that they wait for a break in their schedule to fuck properly. he looks at how at ease namjoon is in his own body now, his shoulders back and his face already smiling, no tension or hesitation in his movements anymore and namjoon’s bed is big enough, jimin decides. maybe he doesn’t actually give a shit if they break it. everybody else will be at home, but they can put ear plugs in if they don’t want to listen to jimin fuck their leader like he deserves.
“we thought you guys were slacking, taking extra break time, but he comes back drenched in sweat and moves like that now, so you practiced the whole time, huh? you’re a good teacher, jimin-ah. such a good dongsaeng to your hyungs.” hoseok leans in to ruffle jimin’s hair and jimin lets him. namjoon is moving with the kind of purpose now that comes from the knowledge that someone finds him sexy, and jimin can’t tear his eyes away. hoseok could try to shave his head right now, and jimin doesn’t know whether he’d even notice.
he kind of doesn’t have a choice on noticing or not when yoongi tips over from where he’d been sitting next to jimin and rests his head on jimin’s thigh, reaching up to slap hoseok’s hand away from jimin’s hair.
“you are so dumb,” he tells hoseok, and when jimin looks down at him, panicked, yoongi only rolls his eyes and then closes them, apparently set on a nap.
“why?” hoseok wonders, squinting off into space, his whole face twisted into cute confusion. “what am i missing? jimin and namjoon disappeared to practice some more earlier, and when they came back, namjoon had gotten much better. what else is there to it? jimin must have a hack. does he give namjoon treats for getting it right? is this a reward system thing?”
jimin tries to keep his snigger quiet and goes right back to watching namjoon show seokjin how to really put his back into the body roll.
hoseok is still mumbling away to himself, when taehyung and jungkook burst in through the door with bags of snacks in their arms.
“damn hyung,” taehyung whistles appreciatively at namjoon while he tries to mimic his movements even with his hands full and his grin huge.
“jimin-hyung gave you a fresh shot of sexy, huh?” jungkook’s eyebrows are still waggling meaningfully when hoseok’s shoot up on his forehead.
“uhhhh,” namjoon says, his hands on his beautifully expressive hips as he locks eyes with jimin through the mirror.
from the little speaker they've set up, connected to jimin's phone, drake asks 'guess whose it is? guess whose it is?'
jimin arches an eyebrow, otherwise straight faced, and namjoon blushes beautifully. his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip and jimin watches openly. when namjoon starts to work through the choreography again, there's no awkwardness in his movements whatsoever. he slides into the routine right in the middle, totally on beat, and jimin can tell by the look on his face and how he won't meet jimin's eye now that he's got a lot on his mind, but whatever he's thinking, it only seems to help him move easier, his shoulders back, his chest pushed forward, his hips working like they're actually part of his body for once. and god, what a body it is.
seokjin tilts his head, his eyes trained on the line of namjoon’s spine until something seems to click for him, and he nods to jimin, looking - bizarrely - impressed.
yoongi, still in jimin’s lap, starts to snore.
♔♔♔