Chapter Text
Jimin has been working as a yoga instructor at this gym for about five months.
Not a lot, but certainly long enough to allow him to get acquittanced with every other instructor, know all the regulars, and be able to have small talk with most of the fast-food delivery people.
So yes, by all accounts, one can consider this gym his second home.
Which is why it’s a wonder how he managed to be the last one to find out about the newest addition to their gym staff.
And it wasn’t even directly that he got the news. No, it was through second-hand indirect juicy gossip that Jimin’s ears got to finally hear all about this hot shot (emphasis on hot) new coworker.
“Oh sheesh, did you get an eye on the new weight-lifting instructor?” Seoyeon is moaning rather unprofessionally at 8 in the a.m. Jimin pretends like he isn’t eavesdropping as he waits for his coffee to brew.
“No.” Misuk’s groan is loud and defeated. Jimin almost expects her to stomp her Kangoo Jumps and fly out the nearest window. “It’s not my shift, but I keep hearing about him. Everyone says he’s really – “
“Hot,” Seoyeon supplies like she’s experiencing this guy’s tongue up her cleft. Jimin wrinkles his nose in disgust from his corner. He loves her, but sometimes she’s just too –
“I’ve seen him up close and it’s every bit my college wet dream. Even his sweat smells good and he definitely looks like the type that’d talk you through it, y’know? And the way that he walks? Clearly packing.”
That.
Het.
Overly-sharing.
Not that Jimin’s any better, but you don’t see him verbally drooling over his best hookups, even less some muscle brained guy he never even met personally.
“He’s tall,” Seoyeon rambles on dreamily, high as a kite and all. “Muscles all over, thighs to die for and arms that could choke you out in under one minute. And get this, that ungodly body is attached to the most handsome pretty face. I’m talking big eyes, cute nose, gorgeous sweet smile that would definitely distract my mom enough to let him stay the night. He’s super polite too and he deserves the best suck.” Glossy eyed, she sighs, lost to the world. “I think I’m in love.”
Jimin dry heaves.
He turns around as he stirs into his coffee, facing them and making sure they both see exactly how disappointed he is in this outcome. Neither of them even acknowledge him.
Misuk for one, is too busy lamenting in her misery. “Will I ever meet him?”
Seoyeon gently leans her head on her shoulder. “I better hope not, bitch.”
Jimin rolls his eyes. Sipping from his coffee, he decides that’s enough nonsense for Monday morning. “Both of you are late for your classes,” he informs as he makes his exit, chin high and dignity intact.
Unbothered.
That is, until Jimin actually sees him.
Jeon Jeongguk. That’s the devil’s name.
What’s even worse is that this guy looks harmless – none of that macho steroid-pumped greasy-sweat Instagram-obsessed man dude you’d expect.
No. Jeongguk is… innocent almost. Too innocent.
Jimin narrows his eyes and grabs his towel, misses it altogether, continues pawing for it as he watches this guy instruct a scrawny kid through an elliptic.
It’s hell, that’s what this is.
Jimin ultimately succeeds in snatching his towel and moves on to blindly reaching for his matt as he scrutinizes this Jeon Jeongguk – alleged panty dropper just by breathing and obvious death-harbinger to Jimin’s any hope of future sleep.
He’s tall alright. But not in that obvious eye-catching way. You know, like when you’re in a crowd and you need to search for your friend just by height. No, not like Namjoon.
Jeongguk’s height becomes delicious only when you’re next to him. Face-to-face, when you’re conveniently forced to look slightly up.
He’s buff too, but not in that uncomfortable way either, when you’re all but dreading bulging muscles to split skin. It’s just the right amount – for Jimin’s taste at any rate – but it hurts, because he can’t even see muscle to begin with. The only evidence of Jeongguk being built like a damn mountain is the way his modestly overly-baggy clothes drape around said mounds. There’s so much fabric and only enough muscle outline to drive the man insane. Jimin can see that it’s all there, yet he can’t see shit. It’s psychological warfare.
On top of it all, he’s really pretty. Jimin mutters a curse under his breath – “How?” – ‘cause Seoyeon, in her ayahuasca-induced haze, was completely spot-on. He’s fucking beautiful. No analogy there. He’s just unfairly, otherworldly, unrealistically, fucking beautiful.
Jimin finally manages to grab his damn matt. He has maybe two minutes until his class starts, but he cares not. He saunters up to the exquisite specimen with all the confidence he’s been carefully harvesting since his high-school years.
He doesn’t even blip on this Jeon Jeongguk’s radar, not even when he’s right behind his right hunched shoulder, and that’s worrisome to begin with, but Jimin isn’t swayed.
“Hi,” he says, a proper combination of cheery and politely casual.
Jeongguk straightens up in surprise, turning on his feet with a speed that betrays guilt, which furthermore betrays an overly-polite good boy. His eyes are round and his lips are parted. “Hi,” he parrots back. “Sorry, I was – “
If it were past midnight, and their location were a club, Jimin would have already eaten this boy alive, ugly shoes and all. He smiles brightly. “Oh, no. I’m sorry for interrupting you. I just wanted to say hello. We’re colleagues. I’m Park Jimin, yoga instructor.” He extends a friendly hand.
Jeongguk rushes to take it (Jimin doesn’t get the whole need for scrambling, but he supposes that’s first-week nerves). He shakes it firmly and vigorously, and Jimin is thoroughly taken. “Jeon Jeongguk, 25 years old. I just started here as a fitness instructor. Pleased to meet you.”
Jimin forcibly has to slow down the hand shake. He’s all too endeared, so he lets Jeongguk do his squirming thing. “Ah, then I’m your hyung – I’m 27,” he explains. “It’s nice to meet you too, Jeon Jeongguk-ssi. I hope you’ll find our little establishment pleasant.”
Jeongguk finally lets go of his hand, nodding enthusiastically all the while. “It’s really cool so far. I like it. I hope we’ll get along well.”
Jimin eyes him amused. “Oh, I’m sure we will,” he purrs, guns already out because it’s too easy not to.
To his surprise, Jeongguk does seem to actually catch on to that tentative first flirtatious vibe, but his only response remains to shove a quick thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the twink wheezing behind him. “Well then, I need to – uh, get back to – “
Jimin waves him off, dismissing their conversation smoothly. “Of course. You have a job to do and so do I.” He tips his chin towards the rolled-up mat tucked under his arm. “I’ll see you around then. Good luck, Jeongguk-ssi, and don’t hesitate to ask for anything if needed.” He gives a small wave, smiles charmingly, and turns around after Jeongguk gives his own feeble goodbye.
Jimin struts away and puts a bit of extra sway to his hips, knowing it will only be accentuated by the tight grey thighs he’s wearing. Even if Jeongguk isn’t watching him go, he’s always loved putting on a bit of show. Gets boring in their small little gym anyway.
And yet, Jimin hears it.
That barely audible, breathless little hitch.
That settles it then.
Seoyeon can go suck another dick, because Jimin laid his eyes on this one, and what Jimin wants, Jimin gets.
Not that Jeongguk’s gonna pose any kind of challenge.
Jeongguk is, by all means and by all accounts a fucking unpredictable bitch of a challenge.
The guy is either: a) a complete clueless idiot who’s still in the closet, b) a virgin who can’t recognize flirting if you said it to his face that you want to ride him until his dick falls off, or c) straight and in a loving relationship.
Jimin thinks it should be either a or b.
But that’s only because of his fluffed-up fantasies.
Jimin’s leaning on a treadmill, sucking the life out of a smoothie as he calculates the physics of Jeongguk doing pull ups on the other end of the room.
The Bible said sinners are going to rot in Hell, but did Moses or whoever wrote the Bible ever witness a sweaty Jeongguk effortlessly pull his chin over a bar? No, they did not.
And now Jimin’s a demon on a mission.
To no one’s shock, after they had their promising introductions, Jimin procured Jeongguk’s schedule like the ambitious (read: desperate) man he has no shame in admitting he is. Turns out they have a few hours overlapping per week and isn’t Jimin the luckiest motherfucker.
But Jimin was also never the person to let fate up to luck, so he amped up the chances of seeing Jeongguk, because Jimin can both come earlier and wait for him to finish in order to talk to this Greek-God-analogy. Civilized and decent, he is not.
Therefore, everything planned carefully, Jimin has done precisely three things that he was sure would land him Jeongguk’s surely-massive dick.
Or, more accurately, Jimin fails three times:
1.
At first, Jimin doesn’t put in too much effort. He eases into it. Goes through his arsenal weapon by weapon, patiently testing the waters for the time being. Gauge Jeongguk’s taste and range of emotions.
So far, it’s rather limited.
It goes without saying that Jimin shows up the next days in his nicest, tightest, most form-fitting clothes. He’s talking colors, nylon, sheer, meshes, second-skin-snake leggings that squeeze and plump up his muscles and ass in what he knows is an enticing meal. He’s talking crop tops, loose shirts that barely hang off his shoulders, and even a bodysuit on a rather daring Wednesday morning.
He doesn’t even need to flaunt around.
The whole gym is filled with cat calls and wolf whistles every time he steps in, announcing his arrival like a small army of horndogs. He’s a walking wet dream, he’s the center of attention, he’s the reason behind every fist bite. Park Jimin is nothing if not what everyone wants.
Jeongguk seems to be the stubborn exception.
It always goes like this:
Jimin comes in, a rain of heated praises shower over him, Jeongguk looks over, gives him a onceover, grins sweetly, says his good morning and goes back to his clients.
At this point, Jimin would have already drawn the line and call him uninterested. It happens. Sure, it’s as rare as snow in summer, but weirder things have transpired (like that one time Taehyung insisted he is straight with a lap full of Jimin, absently drawing some Van Gogh rendition inside his ass). Alas, Jimin is an understanding person.
But the punchline is that Jeongguk does look. Jimin can see his eyes curving along the lines of his body. He can see the way his gaze trails down and lingers on his hips and thighs. He can see how Jeongguk loses focus for one brief moment, fingers slacking around whatever inhumane weight he’s holding.
There’s interest, but it never goes further than that.
Jimin doesn’t know what he expects – perhaps for him to be more proactive about it. Do something or even return his flirting and teasing, but no, Jeongguk remains a good boy. Too good.
Jimin tries to be friendly too and it’s not a façade. He truly does enjoy Jeongguk’s company.
On their breaks, they all huddle in the coffee room and swap funny stories about their classes or share tips and tricks about diets or whatnot. It’s every bit normal, pleasant and easy to talk to him.
It’s how Jimin and the rest of the peanut gallery find out more about Jeon Jeongguk’s not so elusive life. He’s doing his Masters in Music at the same university Jimin once buried his dreams at. He’s an artist with a plethora of other talents and no one expresses one word of shock. Jeongguk is clearly one of those formidable individuals, has everything going on for him, too good to be real. Quite literally, Jimin can’t find one flaw in his default package. He’s not even an asshole and that just plain sucks.
Everyone loves him. He’s the youngest in their staff and they all dote on him as much as they fight for his affections.
Jimin, being the closest in age to him, even tries to take him under his wing – in sincere ways too – but there’s only so much closeness one can achieve in a working environment.
Fortunately, Jimin cares less about closeness and more about attention. For the time being, at least.
“So I’m over there, bent over and pushing,” he is narrating during one of these gatherings, eyes purposefully avoiding Jeongguk eating a banana on the couch as he showcases the position he was in, leaning over until his nose touches his knees. “Legs spread out to my absolute limit – and you know that’s a lot –“ He pauses for the expected hooting. “And then I hear a crack.” He basks in the dramatic silence before straightening up and turning around to display the small of his back. “I completely cramped up here and couldn’t move anymore. My spine felt so rigid that I thought it would snap at the smallest exhale.” He rubs over the stop at the ghost memory, rucking the shirt only slightly up over his dimples of Venus. “It was right here.” He lets his thumb slide across the high hemline of his leggings. Devil’s work.
“How did you get out of it? I wasn’t there to get it on camera.”
Jimin ignores the smug comment as he faces the small crowd again, nonchalant as he raises his shoulders. “They called an ambulance. There was no other way, but it was so embarrassing. I even lost a couple of clients over the incident. Can’t blame them though – who would want such an unprofessional yoga instructor.”
Everyone laughs at his small self-deprecative jab. Everyone but Jeongguk, who scoffs as he stands up, banana peel dangling from his fingers on his way to the bin.
“That’s really dangerous, Jimin-ssi,” he berates. “You probably didn’t warm up enough, but even if you did, these things are very unpredictable. Don’t blame yourself. I know you’re a great teacher.”
Others join in with the reassurances, but Jimin can barely suppress a coo. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, though you’ve seen me at work precisely zero times. Speaking of, you should join my classes sometimes.”
Jeongguk halts in the doorway, eyes big and all. “Pardon?”
Jimin picks up a banana from the fruit stand too, humming as he takes his time to peel it before answering. “It would be very good for your workouts,” he says expertly, biting into the head. “You probably strain your muscles a lot and do way too little to release all those kinks.” He wraps his lips around the phallic fruit, pretending to be deep in thought as he breaks it off into his mouth. “Yoga is all about being in tune with your body and mind. It’s very relaxing.” He chews and swallows. “Come by. First’s one free.” He winks and waits for Jeongguk’s eyes to climb back up to his face.
Everyone in the break room has gone awfully quiet, lips tucked in and eyes darting between the two of them with interest. Gossip for days. That’s what Jimin just offered on a plate.
“Uh, definitely. That’s not a bad idea, Jimin-ssi, but I’ll have to see with my schedule. It’s pretty packed right now, but I’ll keep you in mind. It. Your offer. Thank you.” And with that, Jeongguk bows rather unnecessarily and all but bolts out of there.
One of the swimming coaches shoots Jimin an impressed whistle. “Take it easy on him. It’s still only his second week.”
Jimin snorts and throws the banana away. “That was easy.”
Expectedly, Jeongguk doesn’t grace him with his presence during his yoga classes, but Jimin is not offended. Maybe that was too much and Jeongguk is indeed busy.
But.
If you can’t make them come to you…
It’s after one of Jeongguk’s intense sessions that Jimin slithers up to him, feigning exhaustion as he asks for help with some 120 pounds weight lifting.
Placing his own dumbbells down, Jeongguk bursts into laughter he clearly can’t contain. “You?”
Jimin is stone faced. If this weren’t the face Jimin has been using as spank bank for the past three weeks, he would have promptly punched Jeongguk right in his chiseled jaw. “Do explain your surprise.”
Jeongguk catches on to his mistake, but to Jimin’s surprise, he doesn’t backtrack, nor does he look apologetic. “Ah, no, don’t take it the wrong way, Jimin-ssi –“
“Hyung.”
“Hyung. I didn’t mean to sound rude, but your body is quite… lithe. You’d need to build a bit more muscle mass until you move to the big ones.”
It’s Jeongguk’s genuine concern that saves his jaw.
Jimin’s lips curl. “I see you’ve been paying close attention to my body, Jeongguk-ssi.”
Jeongguk snatches a towel from god knows where and proceeds to pat his face with it like he’s aiming to smother himself. A muffled, strained chuckle drags out. “Yeah, no, I mean, yeah. I don’t need to pay close attention. It’s my job to judge a body, but it’s also not hard to see.” He slings the towel over the back of his neck and pointedly looks down Jimin’s body.
Jimin has to give him points for his bravery.
Or perhaps he’s misjudged Jeongguk. At first glance, he really did seem like the shy awkward type, but the more days passed and the more he got familiar with everyone, Jeon Jeongguk seemed to come out of his shell and boy, oh boy.
Maybe Jimin truly isn’t ready for his true form.
“Your clothes are very tight,” Jeongguk states the obvious.
“Is that a problem?”
Jeongguk snorts, adverting his gaze to someplace else. “No. You’re a yoga instructor. You’re supposed to –“
“Be tight?”
“Wear tight clothes.”
“Are you bothered?”
“About tight clothes?”
“About me wearing tight clothes.”
Jeongguk is visibly and adorably confused. “Why… why would I be bothered by you wearing tight clothes?”
Jimin shrugs. “I think we’re talking about different versions of bothered, but that’s just me.” He lets it sink in.
Jeongguk doesn’t follow.
Or he pretends he doesn’t.
“At any rate,” Jeongguk perks up with an encouraging grin, “if you want my advice with weight lifting, I’d say you need to build your way up. I don’t know how much time you spend here outside your working hours, but if you want to –“
“Will you help me?”
Jeongguk shifts, grabbing for the towel again. “I can, sure,” he says, less than sure. “It’s just that the clients are the priority and I’m not certain I’m even allowed to give you free sessions. Company policy. I’m sure you know better than me. But… “
Jimin sinks his claws into that word like a starved animal. “But?”
“But I’d be happy to help. If you truly – I mean, truly – want to get into it, then we can find a way.”
Jimin feels many things in that moment. Firstly, embarrassment. Jeongguk either clocked his efforts and called him out on his debauched scheming, or he’s a man of ethics and takes his sports seriously. Both are bad for Jimin’s health.
Secondly, his heart melts. How embarrassing times two. Jeongguk is just so honestly kind and here he is, using this poor man for his dirty ploys. He wouldn’t be so hot if he didn’t have such a great personality too. It’s man’s worse calamity.
Thirdly, Jimin remains true to his own self.
He gives Jeongguk a rueful smile and agrees. “I do want to get into it. As deeply as possible, Jeongguk-ssi.”
Jeongguk nods, but his attention is already slinking away to a teenage girl trapped under a weight bar. “Alright, cool,” he throws over his shoulder as he rushes to her aid. “Start at home with small weights and tell me how it goes. I’ll see you later, hyung!”
Jimin grits his teeth.
Jimin isn’t trying to be pushy.
Jeongguk is ignoring his advances, but he isn’t rejecting them. (A saner part of Jimin’s mind suggests that might be because Jeongguk doesn’t actually notice them, but Jimin has always been an optimist. Many would disagree and call him overly-ambitious, but whatever. It gets him dinner and by dinner he does not mean food).
See, Jimin watches and observes.
Almost everyone in their staff has hit on Jeongguk at least once, and Jeongguk had no issues retreating to his cave each time. A polite decline there, a mortified sputter there – Jeongguk managed to fend off hungry hyenas each time. Jimin almost feels bad, but he can’t deny the comedy isn’t good.
Because Jeongguk is especially directionless with females.
If Jimin wasn’t sure before, then he is 100% positive now Jeongguk is flamingly gay when a pair of tits has him fumbling for an escape worse than old ladies asking for a decade expired discount. It’s not even that he’s timid, but rather plain uncomfortable.
But in all honesty, if Seoyeon were flinging her plastic D-cups at him, Jimin would hand in his resignation too.
So really, Jeongguk is commendable for not filing a police report alone.
Jimin respects him.
What he doesn’t respect is his lack of action in the face of his ass in spandex.
And again, Jimin isn’t being pushy. He isn’t being gross or blind to clear disinterest. He thinks – he’s pretty sure Jeongguk finds him attractive too. And maybe that’s not the most telling thing, since who isn’t attracted to him, but Jimin chooses to believe that if Jeongguk truly didn’t want anything to do with his outrageous flirting and tight ass, then he would –
Not smile as brightly when he waves hello?
Not laugh so loudly at his cringy jokes?
Not let his eyes wonder to his accidently-on-purpose exposed shoulder?
Or maybe Jeongguk truly is too nice and he just likes Jimin as a person.
Jimin’s third trial will be the judge of that.
It happens in the evening, after everyone is conveniently gone and Jimin lingers behind to clean around and fold up matts. As much as he enjoys games and a good chase, Jimin gets the distinct impression Jeongguk might not be much of a huntsman. He’s rather direct. Honest, as many call it.
Jimin’s ego would have rather had Jeongguk crawling on his knees to him and not the other way around, but alas, Jimin makes do and his ego will surely thank him once he gets fucked stupid.
“Jeongguk-ssi!”
Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, Jeongguk swivels on one foot just as he was about to leave. He has a black baseball cap on that has no business making him look that hot. “Oh, Jimin-ssi. You’re still here. Sorry, I didn’t see you. Are you leaving as well?”
Jimin stretches his lips into a big smile as he limps up to him, which is not a fake injury – he had a hard shift and his hamstrings have seen better days. “How many times do I need to remind you to call me hyung, hm? I’m just locking up here, but I was wondering –“ He catches himself, chuckling. “Shucks, this will sound really bad now that I’m about to say it out loud. I know everyone around here has been foaming at the mouth over you, but I promise my intentions are pure. Would you like to grab a drink? It’s Friday and I –“
“Ah,” Jeongguk quickly obliterates through all of Jimin’s hopes and dreams. Puts him down like a fucking dog. Just like that. It’s over. A clear rejection. Jimin has been a fool. “I would love to, but I don’t drink. I’m on this diet right now, you see –“
“Say no more,” Jimin rushes out, like grabbing on the first lifeline to keep afloat. “I should have known. Body like that – high maintenance and all – it was to be expected. I don’t mean to push then, but would sodas fit you better? Or water! Water is fine too. Oh, look at me, I seem really desperate, don’t I?” He giggles awkwardly for good measure.
That, thankfully, jerks a laugh out of Jeongguk. “Don’t worry. I’m not as scared of you as I am of Seoyeon noona, but… “ He huffs to himself, back to being antsy. “Maybe I should make it clear from the beginning. I’m not looking to date. I think you’re really nice, hyung, but I’m not really looking for anything at the moment. Platonic water sounds good, though.”
Shot dead and gone. Called nice on top of it all too.
What a defeat.
Jimin schools his features into something kind. “I appreciate your sincerity, Jeongguk-ssi, really I do. Not a lot of guys would pass up the opportunity to get my body loose.”
The comment doesn’t sit well with Jeongguk. His feathers get all ruffled and Jimin can almost taste the testosterone suddenly peppering the air. Jimin doesn’t really get why he’s posturing out of nowhere, over a tasteless joke nonetheless, and he certainly didn’t expect what comes out of Jeongguk’s mouth next.
“Well, I wouldn’t need cheap alcohol to get your body loose.”
Jimin tilts his head in shock, eyes blaring with ‘Come again?’ Not because that would be offensive, but because –
Did Jeongguk just –?
Hilariously enough, Jeongguk is even more taken aback by his own comment. He shakes himself out of it and even takes a few steps back, like he’s the danger between himself and Jimin. “I mean – I’m sorry. Fuck, that was really inappropriate. I didn’t meant to imply –“
“It’s okay –“
“No, really. That was rude of me. I only meant –“
“Jeongguk, it’s okay. I’m not –“
“It’s just that I know how guys can get and I know they use –“
Jimin snickers. “Jeongguk,” he says firmly, effectively shutting him up. “I know what you meant and I agree.” He licks his lips. Damn. He didn’t think things would be so easy. “I’m certain you would be able to get me all loosened up.”
Jeongguk’s eyes darken, throat bobbing with a dry swallow. “I… “
“It’s your job.” Jimin shrugs him off. “Getting bodies warmed up and loose is kinda your thing, so there’s no debate there. I know you’re good. Anyway. Sorry to hold you up then. I’ll get going. Have a pleasant weekend!” It takes a lot – a lot – of effort to just turn around and stagger away, but Jimin thinks he finally found Jeongguk’s tick. He knows where to hit for him to crack and from now on, he only needs to be consistent and –
“Jimin!” Jeongguk calls out, stumbling over his words. “I mean – hyung. Hey.”
Jimin closes his eyes, moans internally at his success. His face is blank when he glances over his shoulder. “Hm?”
Jeongguk is gripping at that backpack’s strap for dear fucking life. His mouth is doing weird things. “I – well – I didn’t mean to – listen, I like you.”
Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up. He swivels on his good leg, interested.
Jeongguk’s shoulders tense, but he inhales a hefty breath. “I didn’t say no. We can go for a drink, but I just meant to make it clear that I’m not looking to date. Not that it was your intention – I didn’t mean to assume – but. Yeah. Just putting it out there. Communication is important, right?”
Jimin pauses, his body losing its indifferent stance. His eyes soften, but he hopes Jeongguk doesn’t see the guilt in them. Perhaps he’s treated Jeongguk too much like prey, too much like a goal. Perhaps he objectified him without meaning to. Jeongguk is thoughtful, treats Jimin like a human. If it were the other way around, Jimin can’t say he wouldn’t have felt a certain way. What a hypocrite.
He crosses his arms over his chest and gives Jeongguk a tentative smile. “I’m not looking to date either,” he assures evenly, “but I will give you the same curtesy and also be transparent. I find you really attractive.”
Jeongguk exhales in disbelief, grinning in a way that’s somehow both shy and cocky. Most importantly though, it’s so different from all the times other people have told him the same thing. “Not to sound conceited, but that doesn’t exactly make you special. Thank you though. You’re really attractive too.”
“Ah,” Jimin says with exaggerated understanding. “I get it now. Us being hot is just facts. Nothing special about it.”
Jeongguk is more at ease, laughing under his breath as he shuffles his weight. “Honestly, no, nothing at all. I can compliment you and say you’re really beautiful, but I doubt it will make your heart flutter. Must hear it every day.”
See, Jimin is normally an ace at keeping up a straight face. He’s ready for any situation and Jeongguk is right too – he does hear that often. He knows it himself.
But when Jeongguk says it, Jimin’s heart does flutter. His stomach swoops in ways it never did before. His cheeks prickle with heat. He’s weak.
And it must show on his face, because Jeongguk immediately apologies for it. “That was too much, wasn’t it? Sorry. I’m not –“ He sighs, rubbing in frustration at his ear. “You make me really nervous,” he admits freely. Jimin could never be that honest with his thoughts.
“I’m told I can be intimidating,” Jimin offers, internally willing himself to calm down, be cool. “Nothing to be sorry for. I know I can come off too strongly sometimes, but it was never my intention to make you nervous. I’m the one who’s sorry if anything. I’ll – uh, I’ll take a few steps back, Jeongguk-ssi.” He grins widely, reassuringly.
Jeongguk scoffs. “You really don’t have to. You haven’t done anything wrong and besides, never said nervous is the same thing as uncomfortable. We’re good, hyung, I promise. Also, please stop addressing me so formally. We’re not strangers.”
“Right,” Jimin agrees, glint in his eyes. “My bad. Well then, Jeongguk-ah,” he drawls with emphasis, “I’m glad we could sort that out. The offer stays on the table, so just let me know when you’re up for that platonic water.”
“Sure,” Jeongguk says with his own content smile. “Maybe next week if you’re free?”
Jimin isn’t, but he will gladly blow off any fling for one Jeon Jeongguk.
They part ways with their newly settled plans, but just before he leaves, Jeongguk turns around one last time.
“Oh, and hyung? You might want to see someone about that limp. You’ve been having it for a while.”
Jimin is taken aback at first, but then his expression melts into something he’s far more familiar and comfortable with – coyness. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll ask you to give me a massage next week.”
Jeongguk laughs. “Can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best, hyung.”
Maybe the third attempt wasn’t a failure after all.
Which is why, during the following week, Jimin holds his horses and takes it easy.
Not only because he’s thoroughly relishing in their newly established budding dynamic, but because Jeongguk shook up his sand castles just a bit. Not irrevocably, but Jeongguk did push him into reconsidering a few things.
For one, if it weren’t for Jeongguk’s sudden reaffirmation of being an A+ human being, Jimin would have long begged to his face to just fuck him.
That’s fine, but secondly and most importantly, Jimin now cares and how fucking weak is that.
Jimin cares about Jeongguk as a person, as a coworker, and especially as a – maybe? – friend, and that punches the worst dent in his immoral conscience.
Because though they are perhaps still far from being besties outside of work, the more time they spend together and the more they talk without Jimin’s obnoxious flirting soiling their interactions, the more Jimin realizes: Huh, I would actually watch a movie with you without getting down on my knees and deepthroating you until you forget all about Iron Man’s death and the only reason you cry are my lips on your balls.
But Jimin digresses.
Point is there is now more than one victory and that victory doesn’t stop at sleeping with Jeongguk.
No. Nowadays, victory is getting coffee together in the morning. Victory is Jeongguk coming to him with any issues he might encounter. Victory is ranking together stupid-but-hot clients. Victory is simply Jeongguk’s laughter.
What is not by any means any type of victory is Jimin’s soft limp heart for him. He’s whipped alright, more than he’s been since his haggard uni days.
And that, as many poets call it, is dangerous.
“Hyung?”
Jimin hurriedly wipes the sweat off his face before straightening up to face him. He’s on the floor, legs stretched out and back arched, so the blinding smile he greets Jeongguk with is up-side down and every bit charming. “Yes, my trusted dongsaeng?”
Jeongguk’s lips minutely quirk. “The water dispenser is empty. Can you help me refill it?”
Jimin doesn’t allow the satisfaction to betray him. He takes his time to do one last stretch before gathering his legs under him and springing up to his feet. “Why of course, but I would have guessed someone as strong as you doesn’t need help with 20 liters of water. No judgement though.” He tops the teasing with a wink and Jeongguk chuckles as they fall into step together.
“Yeah, no. I just don’t know where you keep the restock, but I wouldn’t mind a bit of help from you either way. Does that ruin the image you had of me?”
Jimin’s head falls back with the rush of so much giddiness. It’s easier these days, so much easier to joke around with Jeongguk, and Jimin didn’t even have to do anything except be in his face constantly. “And what image would that be?” They exit out on a hallway and Jimin even dares a courageous hand at the small of Jeongguk’s back. The shirt is clinging to his back with sweat and what a delight that is. Jimin will never judge Seoyeon ever again, not one day in his pathetic life.
“You said it yourself, right? Big strong guy, all brawl, doesn’t need help with anything because his ego is more inflated than his muscles?”
Jimin’s cheeks strain with so much dopamine. “Hey, I never said that. Where’d you even get it from? Must be all the other staff.”
Jeongguk shrugs. “My bad. Been hearing it all my young adulthood life, so it’s easy to assume. It’s not a bad thing though. I never mind.”
Jimin hums, stopping just shy of the storage room. He leans against it and crosses his arms, powerless to do anything about the loose t-shirt slipping off his chest. “You don’t seem like the type to, no. Do you ever get bothered by anything? Ever get angry at all?” And though he doesn’t mean for it, not this time at any rate, the air between them thickness with something else.
It’s because Jeongguk pauses and shifts his weight, eyes playfully trailing up and down Jimin’s figure like he’s the source of everything foul. And he is. Jimin very much is. “No, you’re right. I hardly ever get bothered, but I do too sometimes. I’m human, aren’t I? It just takes a lot to get me going, but when you do… “ He grins, something slow and mean, leaning in by a hair’s breadth that might as well be the distance from the gym to Jimin’s bed. “I am not the most dignified thing when it happens.”
Who is this person?
Because yeah, Jimin’s brain promptly buzzes, crackles, smokes out, until inevitably all the lights shut down. What a disgrace. To be left mentally and bodily impaired, speechless and figuratively naked, just because of a few words that are mocking more than anything. Jimin swallows and makes a Herculean effort to gather his balls from the floor. “I like undignified,” he blurts out with the suaveness of a modest student with a crush on their very hot, very off limits decade older professor. “I mean, I don’t mind it. I’d always rather you be at your barest. At all times. Even if it’s not the nicest.”
Jeongguk’s smile doesn’t waver, but he does take a step back, nodding like they’re agreeing on the current economical state. “Good to know.”
Jimin echoes something of the same sentiment and then wills himself to push the door open. Water. They need to get water. “Here it is. Our infinite supply of life force,” Jimin introduces with unnecessary panache and there goes another mental face palm.
Jeongguk walks in, hands on his hips like he’s calculating how many jugs of water he can carry using only one arm. “Nice. You keep snacks here as well,” he notes, eyeing the candy that’s not Jimin. “Free use?”
Jimin regulates his breathing. “What?”
Jeongguk turns to him and tips his head towards the shelves chock-full of protein bars. “Can I take as many as I want?”
Jimin’s eyes flit from the staff treats to his own lonely nights treat. “Take as much as you want.”
Jeongguk, ever the ignorant to Jimin’s miserable libido, nods and gets to looting. “Cool. Thanks.”
It’s not like he takes a lot. Jimin observes that what Jeongguk meant by ‘as many as he wants’ doesn’t go further than more than two. He’s very selective. Reads the labels thoroughly, mutters to himself about calory intake, does some math about more push-ups, all in the midst of Jimin struggling to sit still and normal by the door while his brain is imploding like a million fireworks.
It’s a bit blaring – this situation.
The two of them alone in a storage room? Jimin has seen porn storylines more stretched than this.
And what of this heavy atmosphere? Jimin can’t be the only one imagining it. He never believes in a good scenario just because he wants it badly enough to risk everything decent. He’s always been empathetic, hyper-aware of people’s emotions and situations, grounded even in his wildest fantasies. Because Park Jimin might be an over-achiever, but he is also realistic and calculated. He would never put his neck and ego (and dick) on the line if he didn’t smell the right situation.
And this right here – this is one of those situations.
Even when Jeongguk is seemingly innocently stealing some extra candy bars, it’s clear how he’s stalling. Oh, he is stalling.
There is only so much candy one can be professionally interested in.
Then there’s that one other ironically annoying thing than Jimin never predicted:
Ever since they so nonchalantly admitted to finding each other objectively attractive, things simmered down. It’s like, now that they got all that out of the way, there is no more sexual tension Jimin can go off of and everything is fair game. Jeongguk can hit on him all he wants, because they both know he never means it, not in the ways that matter, and with no end goal of getting Jimin naked any time soon.
Then again. Then again, then again –
Jeongguk never said anything about fucking being off limits. He only mentioned dating. Does fucking equal dating?
For a guy like him, probably.
“You okay, hyung?”
Jimin snaps himself back to this torturous reality and nods quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Zoned out a bit.” Jeongguk is standing in front of him with three protein bars cradled between his long fingers. Jimin imagines those fingers have been in someone at some point.
“Are you tired? You look a bit tired.”
Stop being so nice.
“Yeah, Thursday evening and all, but I only have one hour left. It’s okay.”
“Can I do anything for you?”
Yes. So many things.
“No, but thank you.” Jimin tips his chin towards the treats in his hands, taking a step forward and purposefully letting the door swing closed. “You should grab one of the green ones as well. They have nuts in them. These things are bland as it is.”
Jeongguk doesn’t show one reaction to them being suddenly alone in a dark room. He diligently grabs the green labeled bar and proceeds to read its contents. “True. I’ll eat anything, but even I have to admit it’s a discipline to get these things down. I love nuts though, thanks.”
Jimin smiles, biting his tongue from making an idiotic comment like ‘Oh, yeah, totally. Me too. Yours especially. Get your nuts in my mouth like right now. Ha ha.’ He clears his throat. “I respect that – your discipline in everything you do. It’s not easy to keep up a healthy lifestyle.”
“Not at all, but it’s worth it,” Jeongguk says, turning the bar in his hands with a faraway look in his eyes. “I feel good when I know I’m taking good care of myself. Must be the same for you though,” he goes on to say, meeting Jimin’s eyes with nothing short of admiration. “Yoga is insane. People don’t give it enough credit.”
Jimin’s chest inflates with both pride and gratitude. “They don’t, no. I used to do ballet too, you know? Always the same stereotypes and downplaying. Kept getting called a wuss for it, but they’ll never know what it actually takes. Most of them would beg for sweet death after the fifth position.”
Jeongguk’s cute brow knits together. “I’m sorry to hear that. Ballet is no joke. It’s honestly even harder than what I do. Why did you stop?” He backtracks as soon as he asks that. “You don’t have to answer of course. If it’s personal –“
“That’s okay,” Jimin says, eyes crinkling with endearment, though if he’s being honest, it’s not. This is not a conversation he really wants to have with anyone, not right now at any rate, not even with Jeongguk whom he trusts more than one should after only one month. He feigns sudden interest in some protein powders located on the last shelf, walking to it seemingly pensive. “It’s a long story. I actually went to the same uni as you did. Before I dropped out, that is. Ah, this is really high.” Jimin stretches an arm up, leaning the other one against the shelf and forcing the physics of nature into arching his spine prettily. He stands up on the tips of his toes and does a series of small jumps he hopes are both cute and sexy, because his butt is a force of nature of its own mind.
Victoriously, Jeongguk’s heat is behind him quicker than it would take Jimin to zip him down. “Here. Let me lend a hand.”
Jimin lowers himself, pretending like he can’t feel the outline of Jeongguk’s hard chest grazing his back. “Sorry. Thanks.”
“Nothing to thank me –“ Jeongguk frowns. “Shit. I can’t reach it either. It’s too damn high. Do you have a ladder maybe?”
Jimin internally slams his head against the nearest hard object, which is, you guessed it, Jeongguk himself. Why did he have to go for the highest possible object? It’s not like Jeongguk is actually that much taller than himself. Think fast, Park.
Jimin swiftly turns on one foot and actually has to lean back, because holy shit, Jeongguk is right up in his space, still looking up and doing his damnest to reach the ceiling.
Jimin puts a light hand on his chest, getting his attention. “Hey, that’s fine. I can take one from the front.”
Jeongguk also comes back to his normal height and Jimin was right (again): face to face with Jeongguk, one is oh-so conveniently forced to slightly look up. Even the height difference is stuff of the fairytales and damn right this has to be fantasy, because there is no way Jeon Jeongguk is real.
Maybe he needs to get laid again. It hasn’t been too long since his last escapade, but ever since he met Jeongguk, there has been absolutely no one able to fill the void inside him. He means that literally.
“You sure?”
And god, he isn’t moving at all. He just stands there, sharing air with Jimin like it’s no big deal.
If Jimin was second-guessing it before, he knows it for sure now:
Jeongguk is no innocent.
Jimin rests his back against the shelves, adding a bit of space between them, and who would have thought a point would come where he has to be the one to maintain boundaries. “Sure. Anyway, as I was saying. I was forced to drop out of college because of money issues. As we all know, art doesn’t pay the bills, not when you’re not talented enough.” He pauses, shooting him a comforting smile. “It will not be your case, don’t worry. So I left and I got into the next best thing.”
Jimin can tell Jeongguk is conflicted, sad at such a sob story, but still trying to respect Jimin’s privacy. “Yoga?”
“No. I switched to another degree, one that would allow more time for extra jobs. Got into biochemistry. I don’t look it, but I’m actually pretty smart.” He laughs airily. “Pretty and smart. I’m quite the catch, aren’t I?” He doesn’t mean anything by it. He promises he doesn’t. It’s an old game by now, too obvious to even work in any way.
But even if it did, Jeongguk is too upset to have responded to it. “You do look smart. I don’t know you for long, but I can tell you’re super intelligent. Don’t downplay yourself, hyung.”
It’s weird, to be hitting a bit too close to home in what is in essence a cheesy porn setup. Jimin quickly stomps on this sour mood, crossing his arms behind his back and inadvertently pushing their bodies closer together. “Not to worry. My ego is intact, Jeongguk-ssi. I might make a lot of jokes at my expense, but I’ve grown a lot over the years. I know my worth. I love myself. Don’t think I need a knight in shining armor to show me how much I deserve good things. I know I do.”
Jeongguk is quiet, his frown doesn’t let up, but there is something different in his eyes too. A different kind of concentration; a focus that’s as intense as it is disarming. “Never said you do.” So close, Jimin can actually trace the way his throat bobs with a heavy swallow. Shit, this is it, isn’t it? Jeongguk is gonna plaster him against these shelves and have his dirty gentlemany way with him. “You are a catch. Not only are you pretty and smart, but you’re… “
Jimin thumps his head back, watching him down his nose through half-lidded eyes. “I’m… ?”
And Jeongguk’s eyes are definitely not meeting his anymore. They drop down, to the column of his neck and to the display of his collarbones. “You’re resourceful.”
Jimin makes an effort to keep his face in check and not show any non-hot confusion. “Am I, now?”
Jeongguk, whether it’s a conscious action or not, places the protein bars on the shelf next to Jimin’s head, hands free to do as they please. Jimin expected a lot of things, but not even he, conniving snake extraordinaire, would have foreseen Jeongguk leaning one elbow against the shelf above him and cage Jimin in a perfect rendition of a corny k-drama scene. “You know how to use all you have,” he drawls factually. “You’re not exactly discreet about it, but you’re not vulgar either. I’d call you diplomatic, but unfortunately, there is no much diplomacy when your body betrays you. Remember what I said the other day?”
Jimin doesn’t remember his own name. And see, Jimin never ever gets caught off guard. Mainly, because he usually doesn’t care enough for the other party to actually be affected by anything. Heck, he never even prolongs a thing like this for more than one day. Jimin is pretty straight forward – you either follow him home or you don’t. (And it’s never don’t). “I do,” Jimin replies with the last working brain cell. “But I’m not – I promise you I’m not doing anything. You made it clear. I made it clear as well, didn’t I? It’s all in good fun and honestly, Jeongguk-ssi? This is just how I am with everyone. I’m a flirt.”
“You are rambling, hyung.”
And okay, at this point, Jimin’s feathers are just a bit ruffled. He needs to step up his game quickly, because he can’t have doe-eyed former shy boy in ugly shoes one-upping him like this. “And you’re proving the opposite of your words. Takes two to tango, Jeongguk-ah, and you’re not exactly keeping me at a distance. I’m not the one cornered against a dirty shelf.”
Jimin’s words dispel the illusion.
Like an immediate tug back to reality, Jeongguk’s body goes rigid and he straightens up, taking a step back and therefore putting the biggest possible distance between them.
It takes all of Jimin’s willpower to hold his ground and stand where he is, not move a muscle, not say a thing, not express the slightest disappointment or hint that he’s currently mentally ripping his hair out.
Jimin remains defiant as Jeongguk painstakingly retreats back to his shell.
“You’re right.” he says, berated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep and make you uncomfortable.”
How the tables fucking turn for no particular reason.
Jimin would have long grown tired by now had it been literally anyone else than Jeon Jeongguk. He exhales a sigh. “You know that’s not what happened. I think it’s –“ Jimin huffs a laugh. “– virtually impossible for me to get uncomfortable with you, but my unsaid question stands, Jeongguk-ssi. You’re doing the opposite of your words. I thought you weren’t interested in anything.”
“I said I’m not interested in dating.”
Jimin whistles. “Hit and run. Could have never in a million years pegged you as one of those.”
“One of those? You mean like you?”
“You and me fall in different categories, Jeongguk-ssi. Or, we should. Don’t tell me you’re a slut too.”
Jeongguk scoffs. “Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing. But seriously, Jimin-ssi, do you expect me to not fuck just because I don’t date?”
Bingo. “Never said that. It’s just that you never hinted at it either. Not towards me.”
Jeongguk is torn with conflict, with some kind of guilt and shame, and Jimin doesn’t get why. Is he trying so hard to keep up a certain façade? Does he not want to act on his urges? He just said wanting to fuck is not a bad thing, so why try so hard to put up a tough puritan exterior for Jimin?
Jimin unhooks his arms from the small of his back, crossing them to his front instead, in what he hopes is a more casual no-bullshit manner. “What’s wrong? You can tell me, yeah? Because frankly, you’re fluctuating between two very different extremes and I’m, uh, going a bit insane here. No pressure.”
It seems to deliver the crack Jeongguk needed. He laughs shortly, but puts even more distance between them, leaning on the opposite shelves and mirroring Jimin's position. “Two extremes, huh? I thought I was easier to read, because hyung… You drive me insane. I know you know that.”
Jimin sincerely didn’t. It’s one thing for Jeongguk’s eyes to linger on his body, and a whole ‘nother for that to warrant one going mad in his solace. “How could I have known that? I’ve been the most non-diplomatic asshole for the past month, yet you never reciprocated my advances. If you wanted to fuck, you could have simply said so. The no-dating would have been even more obvious that way.” He can’t believe it’s officially all out in the open. Was Jimin truly so immersed in his own scheming and thirsting that he never actually realized Jeongguk was into him? Impossible.
Jeongguk summarizes the problem pretty effortlessly. “I never acted on it, true, but that's because it’s not that easy and you know why. Come on, it’s obvious, hyung. We work together. It’s not ethical and not even good or healthy for us. Can’t exactly… hit and run.”
So that’s what it was. Out of every possible scenario and issue and doubt –
Jimin closes his eyes minutely, taking deep breaths. Jeongguk remains level headed and grounded in every situation, even in the ones Jimin never even considered as an obstacle. He would also be offended, but he can’t deny Jeongguk’s point is pretty solid. He opens his eyes and smiles patiently. “Then what changed now all of a sudden?”
“Nothing changed,” Jeongguk complains sullenly, a bit muffled through his gritted teeth. He sounds like the most upset kid after someone stole his favorite toy and Jimin wants to pinch his cheek, but it’s definitely not the time and place for it. “It’s just that – fuck. Every day it just gets worse and worse. You’re just there, in your skin-tight clothes, or in those short fucking shorts, bending at all inhumane angles and being the sweetest to old ladies and – you drive me fucking insane, alright? And I want to hand in my resignation.”
Now that’s a confession Jimin never dreamt of hearing from Jeongguk’s mouth. The swell of satisfaction rushes through him like the most potent drug, flings him soaring straight to cloud nine. He paces himself. “Funny of you to put it on me. Have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through every single day and night since I met you?”
That gets Jeongguk’s attention. “… night?”
How can one be so equally innocent and sinful?
Jimin deserves a prize for all of his struggles, and that prize should solely be Jeongguk’s cum on his face. Too much? Too little at his point.
He also needs to yet again play his cards carefully, because at this point, Jimin’s next move can either have Jeongguk running for the hills or Jeongguk ravaging Jimin’s life for the best. The stakes are high.
“At night,” Jimin confirms factually. “At night, when I’m finally alone, after I take a shower and settle into my bed, comfortable, cozy, and naked.”
Jeongguk’s eyes are so round that Jimin almost feels bad. “What do you do?”
Jimin shrugs and starts taking slow steps towards him. “I take my time. I never rush. I want to do it properly, drag it out for as long as I can, so when I finally touch myself I’m nearly crying with relief. I try to, but I’ve been getting so desperate lately.”
Jeongguk makes a sound from his throat, the groan of a wounded animal. Jimin stops in front of him and waits. “And you think of me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Jimin nods, doesn’t offer anything else.
It’s a couple of seconds before Jeongguk finally takes the leap to his downfall. “What do you think of?”
Jimin thinks that’s enough skirting around. He leans in, gives Jeongguk plenty time to stop him, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, not when Jimin’s lips are nearly brushing his ear. “At first, I run my hands all over my body, from neck to chest, down to my inner thighs,” he whispers his confession. “I imagine it’s you, your weight on my body, enveloping me completely. I know nothing of the outside world. It’s only you, teasing and touching me in all the ways you want. I close my eyes and pretend my fingers are yours, dipping them into my mouth, getting them wet, pinching and tugging at my nipples. They always get so puffy when I’m aroused, you know that?”
Jeongguk’s hands shoot to Jimin’s hipbones, gripping them like he’s either trying to anchor himself, push Jimin away, or hold him right there against him. “I fucking don’t,” he clips with a hoarse voice.
Jimin grins, exhaling warm air against Jeongguk’s ear, a sigh full of content. He can almost taste the metal of Jeongguk’s piercings. “I’ve noticed your hands are bigger than mine. Must be coarse too, from all that weight lifting. I hope they scrape my skin, make it worse when I’m so sensitive.”
Jeongguk’s breathing grows shallow. He kneads at Jimin’s hips with a vengeance, apparently intent on engraving there all of his blue-balling. Jimin hopes he bruises. “What then?”
Jimin pulls back slightly, enough to peer down between them. Jeongguk’s hard already, the head of his cock tenting the oversized t-shirt. Jimin’s mouth is dry, down-right parched.
“Then – then –“ Shit, where is his brain. “Then I pull my legs up. I’m very flexible. Obviously. You could probably fold me in half like a pretzel.” Not the sexiest analogy, but it seems to do the trick if Jeongguk suddenly canting his hips against his is anything to go by.
“You hold your knees to your chest?”
“I hold my knees next to my head. Get myself spread out as open as possible.”
Jeongguk curses. “Can you even reach deep enough? ‘Cause I’ve noticed your hands too and those fingers don’t seem very competent, Jimin-ssi. No offence. I mean it in the most endearing way possible.”
And there’s that cocky bastard cuffed behind the introverted exterior.
Jimin can’t be offended, no. Not right now, when he could probably burst into his shorts like the most virginal virgin. He also realizes that his hands are twitching to touch Jeongguk as well, but he has no idea how and where. It’s almost like he’s afraid to. After so many days spent agonizing and fantasizing about doing the dirtiest things with him, now that Jimin could actually at least – fucking hold his hand – he can’t do it.
“I have toys,” Jimin informs, meeting Jeongguk’s eyes playfully haughty. They’re nose to nose, closer than they’ve ever been. Jimin could just – just a tiny bit – press in and they could be kissing. “And as I said, I’m very flexible.” He raises to two fingers to Jeongguk’s eye level and curls them for emphasis. “I can reach just fine. Though… “
Jeongguk’s are dark, hazily pinned on Jimin’s fingers fucking an invisible hole. “Though?”
Jimin’s gaze cuts to his. “Though I do wonder if you’re bigger than my toys.”
If there ever was a line, Jimin can proudly say he was never the one to cross it.
It’s all Jeongguk, the moment he gently takes ahold of Jimin’s wrist and guides his hand to his crotch. He leaves it there, not touching. “I give you full consent to see for yourself.”
Jimin gulps, staring at his own hand next to Jeongguk’s clothed cock. The image is surreal, to say the least. “Consent is pretty sexy.”
Jeongguk nods, letting go of Jimin’s wrist. “It is.”
So Jimin is left staring, fingers twitching like he forgot how cocks work to begin with. He can’t even see much. Jeongguk’s baggy clothes are doing an insufferable job at covering up everything important. It’s really only a bump at his front and Jimin thinks it’s high time he did something about it.
It’s only his pointer at first. He presses it just on the head. Jeongguk bites into his lip, following Jimin’s hand with anticipation. Jimin is pretty sure he’s also holding his breath.
There’s too much fabric in the way. Jimin wants to feel him, see how wet he is at the tip for him, but for now, he settles for trailing his finger down the length of his cock, exploring, discovering. His clothes give in, finally outlining a shape. Jeongguk grows harder under his hand, squeezing Jimin’s waist like a plead.
“Only from this, Jeongguk-ssi?” Jimin teases with mischief, but it comes out rather gruff, his own voice straining. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”
Jeongguk closes his eyes and swallows, rubbing circles on Jimin’s hipbones. “And even if I were, would you stop?”
“I would probably think twice about it,” Jimin says airily, running a light finger along his cock, down and then up again, fascinated really. “I would probably make an effort to make it real special for you.”
Jeongguk is tense, muscles seizing and releasing with every drag of Jimin’s finger. “Are you implying you wouldn’t give your all otherwise?”
“Not at all. It’s just that… “ Jimin’s eyes must be glazed over by now. He moves his hand slightly, circling the base of Jeongguk’s cock with his thumb and pointer. “I would take it easier on you. Be more gentle.”
And yeah, Jeongguk does have a pretty dick. No one is surprised, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hit Jimin like a horny truck. Maybe his clothes are making it bigger than it is, but Jimin already loves what he sees. It’s long, thick at the middle, with a fat mushroom head. Drool pools in his mouth like the most depraved man.
Jeongguk’s whining quietly. His hips are twitching with small jerks, like he’s trying hard to keep himself from fucking between Jimin’s fingers. “No – no need to be gentle. I like it rough. Sometimes.”
Jimin’s eyes glint and heat pulses behind his navel. “And other times?” He curls his fist and grabs ahold of Jeongguk’s cock through his sweats. It’s not the easiest slide. Jimin doesn’t care. He slowly tugs at it, more intent on marveling at its shape through Jeongguk’s t-shirt, than he is on getting him off.
Jeongguk’s nails scrape down Jimin’s sides. “I like it slow as well.” He’s panting, eyes still scrunched together as his body is subtly grinding against Jimin, seeking more friction.
Jimin gives it to him, planting his knee between Jeongguk’s legs and pushing up just underneath his balls. “Romantic, aren’t you?”
Jeongguk peels his eyes half-open to shoot him a weak glare. “You think rough sex is the only way to go? Kinda high-school of you if I’m being honest, hyung. Never had anyone give it you slow and deep? You’ve been missing out.”
Jimin squeezes Jeongguk’s cock under its head, pushing the pad of his thumb right on his slit and that shuts him up nicely. Can’t have Jimin cornered and read like that. “You gonna show me? Teach me what real sex feels like?” I beg of you.
Riding Jimin’s thigh, Jeongguk looks like he’s on top of the world. “It would be kinda ironic, wouldn’t – wouldn’t it? Me showing you the ropes of sex? It should be the other way around. You’re the sex god between the two of us, hyung. Come on, live up to that image you so desperately try to sell.”
Jimin laughs. “Ouch. You always get feisty when you’re on the precipice of coming in your pants?”
“You always get defensive when people tell you the truth?”
Jimin’s laughter dies down to a mean smile. Jeongguk’s good alright, Jimin will give him that. But it’s not his first rodeo and there’s nothing Jimin hasn’t already confronted his own self with. He might be putting up a façade too, but they all do. What makes Jimin different is that he owns up to it.
“I lied,” he informs Jeongguk joyfully.
Jeongguk’s eyes pop open and his expression is priceless. He is heartbreakingly confused when Jimin lets go of his cock and steps away.
“You’re not bigger than my toys and I already knew that.”
Jeongguk stands there like a fool. “W-what.”
Jimin nods. “I have monster dildos, unrealistic huge ones, so that one was obvious. But hey, look at us!”
Jeongguk looks like he’s about to strangle him, but there’s not much he can do with a hard dick and arousal still impairing his movements and slowing down his brain. “What.”
Jimin goes on to locate the nearest water jugs, picking one up and hauling it over his shoulder. Jeongguk doesn’t even move to offer help, which says a lot about his turmoil.
“We ended up getting that platonic water after all! I’ll see you around, Jeongguk-ssi.” Jimin’s eyes flit to his tented sweats with sympathy. “Take a minute if you need to. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.” He winks and leaves with that, door closing behind him.
As soon as Jimin is alone again, his chest deflates and he takes a moment to curse himself. Idiot.
But he also knows it’s for the best and hearing Jeongguk grumble and whimper from the other side of the door makes it all worth it.
Jimin readjusts himself in his shorts and resumes his merry way.
Just a little bit longer.