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It’s Jimin’s favourite day of the week.
Which is to say: it’s Friday, which means it’s movie night, which means that he gets to lock himself up in his dorm room with his best friend and stuff his face with greasy fast food and have Jungkook all to himself.
It’s their little cleansing ritual, something they do to de-stress and catch up when their schedules get too busy and the world gets too loud.
Usually, they don’t even end up watching the movie, but tonight Jimin is one drink in and drowsy and a little too comfortable, so he can’t help but focus on the movie playing on the TV. It’s some classic that he doesn’t even know the name of, but he almost immediately finds something to complain about.
“Oh, wow,” Jimin mumbles, completely unimpressed as he stares at the TV screen. “They’re lying to the masses again. How typical of them.”
Jungkook makes a questioning sound, turning to raise a curious eyebrow. He looks especially handsome tonight, sitting beside him with those sparkling doe eyes and the accentuated curve of his jawline and a soft expression that’s only reserved for Jimin. His new haircut makes him look stupidly attractive, the undercut making him appear sharper, and it doesn’t help that he’s wearing the fraying old black hoodie that’s snug around his shoulders but tends to fall to Jimin’s knees when he steals it.
Jimin thinks it’s only fair if he has a few inappropriate thoughts about their size difference in the safety of his own mind—it’s not like he’s voicing them out loud, so he’s not hurting anyone.
“What are they lying about, hyung?”
“Just look at her.” Jimin points an accusing finger at the actress who looks like she’s in the deepest throes of pleasure, her head tilted back on a loud moan. Neither of them bats an eye at the erotic scene—they’ve watched worse things together. “There’s no way she came just from that.”
Jungkook snorts under his breath, his warm hands settling on Jimin’s legs like they belong there. He kneads his thigh firmly, almost absentmindedly, skillful fingers digging in well enough for Jimin to go completely limp under the touch, his limbs turning to liquid as he makes a soft, satisfied noise low in his throat. His best friend is blessed with the best hands known to mankind, and Jimin shamelessly takes advantage of Jungkook’s love for touching him by letting him massage him on a regular basis.
“From fingering?” Jungkook asks slowly, as if to make sure that’s what Jimin means.
“Duh,” Jimin says, wiggling his toes as he gets more comfortable, ignoring the dry look Jungkook shoots him for converting him into a personal body pillow. “That’s practically a myth, Jungkook-ah.”
The corners of Jungkook’s mouth tip up slightly, something almost privately amused sparking in his eyes. “Right,” he drawls.
Jimin frowns, something about his tone rubbing him the wrong way. “What?”
“What?” Jungkook echoes innocently, eyebrows slightly raised. He’s drumming Jimin’s thigh in a rhythm that’s probably stuck in his head from his music class earlier in the day.
“You clearly have something to say,” Jimin says, trying not to grow annoyed. “So just say it.”
Jungkook lets out a low, amused huff. “You’re going to get mad at me.”
Jimin makes an indignant sound, straightening with offense. “I’m not—!”
“It’s not a myth, Jimin-ah,” he murmurs softly, squeezing his thigh to settle him, before his tattooed fingers trail down to his kneecap. “People do it all the time.”
Jimin blows out a grumpy breath, crossing his arms in sulky defiance. “Well, it’s never happened to me before,” he asserts. “So I refuse to believe it.”
Jungkook goes dangerously still, his hand slowing on his leg. He’s looking at Jimin in pure disbelief. “No way.”
“What?” Jimin tries and fails to not sound a little defensive. “I think the idea is overrated anyway. It wasn’t that fun the few times I tried it. It hurts when I try it myself because my fingers don’t even go in properly, and the one time a guy tried it on me was the biggest turn-off of my life, so I just … don’t do it … anymore … Gosh, stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t agree with me,” Jimin says, his face warming. “You look like you want to tell me I’m wrong or something—”
“You are wrong, Jimin-ah,” Jungkook says bluntly, and then scoffs under his breath, mouth flattening into a thin, unimpressed line. “I knew all those boyfriends of yours were good for nothing.”
Jimin narrows his eyes. “Excuse me?”
Jungkook pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, looking completely unrepentant. His heavy gaze is so intense that it burns right through Jimin. “You’ve been sleeping with assholes who don’t know how to fuck, hyung.”
Jimin’s face goes up in flames. He kicks out with his feet, trying to push Jungkook away, but Jungkook just wraps a large hand around his ankle and subdues him with an ease that’s humiliating. “Don’t be mad,” he chides. “You said you wouldn’t be mad.”
Jimin glares at him. “You disrespectful little—”
“I could show you,” Jungkook offers casually, his voice a little too neutral. His gaze is back on Jimin’s legs, but his fingers have stopped moving, the heavy weight of his hand just … just resting there, the touch a searing hot brand through Jimin’s black tights.
Jimin’s mind goes blank, thoughts turning static. “Show me,” he repeats dumbly.
“If you want,” Jungkook clarifies, giving him a careful glance, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. “I could prove it.”
Jimin swallows hard, his breath turning shaky. He wants to ignore the slick gathering between his legs. It’s probably unrelated to Jungkook, anyway—Jimin tends to get wet even at the mere thought of sex. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t had any for over six months now, so he’s feeling especially deprived.
“Prove … prove what?”
Jungkook looks a little exasperated now, but he still indulges. “That fingering is enough,” he says, his voice huskier now, low in a way that Jimin feels deep in his belly. “That it can make you come.”
“You want to—to—” Get it the fuck together, Park Jimin. “You want to finger me.”
Jungkook’s eyes light up with fond amusement. “I want to teach you how good foreplay can feel, hyung,” he corrects softly, fingers tightening around his ankle, running a warm thumb over the heel of his foot in a way that has Jimin suppressing a shiver. “Will you let me?”
Jimin’s eyes fall to Jungkook’s hands, and his breath hitches a little as he imagines them buried inside himself. The thought of such a thing would usually do nothing for him, because maybe he’s a little jaded by all his failed attempts—lately he only ever fingers himself to stretch for a toy or a cock.
But for some reason the thought of that tattooed hand, with its bruised knuckles (because Jungkook likes boxing a little too much), wide palm and thick, calloused fingers working him open and pushing him to orgasm makes him want to squeeze his thighs together.
“Jimin-ah.”
Jimin’s eyes snap back up, his ears flushing pink. “Huh?”
Jungkook’s eyes are tracking him carefully, as if trying to gauge what he’s thinking. “You didn’t answer me.”
“I—” Jimin wants to say yes. The realization makes him feel oddly embarrassed, because he doesn’t want to seem easy. Doesn’t want to come off as desperate, even though Jungkook is the one asking—who’s offering, like this is some normal favour friends do for each other all the time. Something casual they can just brush off after.
And Jimin—well, Jimin is struggling to understand how this wouldn’t change things. He’s always been the relationship kind of guy, the type to play hard to get and act all coy before finally giving in. He likes to be chased. Likes the feeling of being worshipped. But his friendship with Jungkook doesn’t allow him that liberty—the younger knows him too well for any of that.
“What if you can’t?”
Jungkook cocks his head. His thumb is now digging into the soft skin of Jimin’s heel, cradling his foot almost possessively. “What if I can’t what?”
“Prove it,” Jimin breathes out, his fingers clenching into the soft cushion of the sofa. “What if you can’t prove it?”
Jungkook stares at him for a long, tense second. Then he wets his lower lip slowly and lets out an amused breath, shaking his head a little. “Won’t happen, Jimin-ah.”
Oh. Jimin can feel his lower belly tingling, warm heat pooling in his gut. “You sound entirely too sure of yourself.”
Jungkook wings a single, arrogant eyebrow. “Why don’t you come here and find out?”
Jimin’s eyes grow a little wide, eyes flickering between Jungkook and the hand that’s patting his knee. “You want me to sit on your lap?” he blurts out, voice going a little high with panic.
“Yeah,” Jungkook confirms, holding his hand palm-up as he offers it to Jimin. “It’s easier that way.”
What’s easier that way, Jimin can’t help but wonder, his heart pounding behind his ribcage as he accepts Jungkook’s hand and entangles their fingers together. Jungkook gives him a quick smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle endearingly, and then he’s letting go of his hand and securing both his hands under Jimin’s knees, pulling him closer in one quick, smooth drag, and then grabbing him by the waist to plop him down on his lap like he weighs nothing.
Jimin barely suppresses a gasp as he finds himself haphazardly draped across Jungkook, his thighs on either side of him, his butt planted on one of his firm, muscled thighs.
Jungkook plants a quick kiss on his cheek, murmuring against his overheated skin in a low, intimate voice. “Hi.”
Jimin’s lashes flutter, his hands coming up to settle on Jungkook’s shoulders. “Hello.”
The greeting draws a low, warm chuckle from Jungkook. He kisses his cheek again, lingering this time. Jimin can feel himself blushing under the sudden affection. “Why are you so shy, mm?” He rubs a soothing hand down Jimin’s side. “It’s just me, hyung.”
That’s the damn problem.
Jimin tries not to be nervous, tries not to make his anxiety obvious, but it’s a little hard to do when Jungkook’s body is enveloping him so fully, when he can smell his sweet perfume, when the air between them is heavy with their breathing. He ducks his head, trying not to grow dizzy under Jungkook and his effortless charm, but Jungkook doesn’t let him hide, tipping his chin up with a finger as he makes eye contact.
“Hyung.” Jungkook’s eyes rove over his face, lingering on the curve of his mouth before they snap up to hold his gaze. “You trust me?”
Jimin nods, fingers curling into the fabric of Jungkook’s hoodie. “I do,” he murmurs, soft and breathy. It’s the one thing he’s absolutely sure about. “Of course I do.”
Jungkook’s eyes are shining with relief, his breath coming out a bit faster now. “Good,” he says, voice equally affected. And then he’s shifting Jimin with no warning, turning him around so Jimin’s back is resting against Jungkook’s chest, his head dropping back against the curve of his broad shoulder.
Jimin lets out a questioning noise, but he’s quickly distracted by Jungkook banding a firm arm across his middle and lifting him up slightly, adjusting him in his lap, spreading his legs until they’re splayed open on either side of him, held in place by Jungkook’s knees.
Jimin squirms a little, digging his feet into the couch beneath him, his breath shaky with the anxious desire coursing through his veins. He shifts again, a little backward roll, greedy for Jungkook’s warmth, and then freezes, because Jungkook lets out a low groan, his fingers tightening around Jimin’s waist. There’s suddenly a very noticeable bulge digging against his ass, one that keeps plumping up as he presses his weight against it.
Oh. He’s sitting on Jungkook’s cock.
Jimin’s face bursts into flames, and he scrambles to get away. “Sorry—”
Jungkook is quick to pull him right back. Jimin can hear him breathing heavily, his hand like steel as he holds him in place. “Don’t worry about it,” he rasps, burying his face into the crook of Jimin’s neck as he inhales deeply. “Just—just give me a sec.”
“Okay,” Jimin squeaks, because he doesn’t know what the hell else to say.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind. He’s too busy parting his thighs and sliding a hand between them, reaching down to cup his mound through the thin fabric of his tights. Jimin lets out a soft gasp, hand instinctively going down to stop him, but Jungkook restrains him with his other hand, pulling his arm out of the way.
“Let me feel you,” Jungkook coaxes in a low whisper, kissing the skin just below his ear. He’s plucking at Jimin’s pussy like it’s a string, like it’s something sacred, almost reverently inspecting it as he tries to spread it open with two large, curious fingers. He drags a finger through the middle, exploring his clothed slit, and Jimin has to bite down hard to stifle a moan, his thighs jerking as warm pleasure shoots into his belly. “Fuck. You’re so soft here.”
Jimin’s breathing heavier now, trying not to make any noise because he knows he’ll humiliate himself if he opens his mouth. He just holds his breath and tries to survive Jungkook’s assessment, body growing hot as he’s groped so thoroughly. But he can also feel himself growing warm and sticky down there, his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.
Jungkook’s breath is equally hot against his neck, his mouth brushing against sensitive skin as he speaks. He rubs over Jimin’s pussy with a confidence that only makes Jimin wetter, locating his clit with terrifying ease, patting down like he’s trying to measure how … how fat Jimin is. “No panties, hyung? Really?”
Jimin is breathing so harshly now that there’s no hiding it, his thighs shaking with how badly he wants it. “I don’t … I don’t wear any to bed.”
“Mm.” Jungkook gives his pussy one last affectionate pat before his hands move to the waistband of Jimin’s tights. “Or maybe you wanted this to happen,” he whispers darkly. “Maybe you wanted to end the night by climbing into my lap and letting me finger-fuck you properly.”
Fuck. Jimin can feel himself leaking, can feel the way the gush of slick is turning the crotch of his tights humiliatingly wet. He still shakes his head, determined to deny it. “In your dreams, you … you narcissistic asshole.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook drawls, lifting Jimin up with one arm and using the other to draw his tights over his ass, pulling him back on his lap as he pushes them down to his trembling knees. The casual show of strength has Jimin feeling almost delirious. The fact that he doesn’t even have to move a muscle is alarming to him. It makes him drip like a broken faucet. “You star in them every night, baby.”
Jimin’s cheeks flush pink. He’s messing with you, he tries to tell himself. He doesn’t actually mean it. But he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it, because suddenly Jungkook is pulling his thighs apart as far as they can go, and he’s reaching down to spread his fat, swollen pussy lips, holding them open as he just stares.
Stares at his small, pink pussy, taking in the smooth, leaking mound with a low curse. Stares at his flushed, jutting clit that’s throbbing like a heartbeat, at the drenched entrance of his clenching pussyhole, at the slick that’s overflowing and escaping his wet heat to dribble down to his asshole.
He just won’t stop staring. Jimin barely stifles a needy whimper, resisting the urge to snap his thighs closed. “Don’t—ah, don’t look—”
“Look at you,” Jungkook murmurs, low and affected, a palm coming around him so he can hold his thigh open. “Already made such a mess for me.”
“It’s not my fault,” Jimin protests, feeling humiliated. “I always get too wet, I can’t—I can’t help it—”
Jungkook knocks his forehead against Jimin’s shoulder with a rough groan, his free hand tightening over his exposed thigh. “I need you to stop saying shit like that, Jimin-ah.”
“Are you ever going to finger me?” Jimin demands, feeling entirely too horny now, trying not to force Jungkook’s fingers inside him. “I don’t have all night.”
Jungkook lets out an amused scoff. “I knew you were skimping out on foreplay,” he bites out, before pressing down on his clit with the pads of his two fingers, starting to rub in slow, dirty circles. “Such a stingy hyung, this one.”
Jimin exhales sharply, his thighs jerking as his hips undulate on Jungkook’s lap in panic. “Don’t … don’t …” his breath is coming out in short, gaspy breaths, mind turning hazy as his clit is assaulted with firm rubs and mean pinches. “You’re not supposed to touch there, ah—”
“I can touch wherever I fucking like,” Jungkook tells him in a hot whisper, giving him a smack right over his clit for his disobedience. “Hyung’s pussy is mine right now.”
Jesus. Jimin is so fucking wet. He can feel it sticking to his inner thighs and sliding down the crack of his ass and ruining Jungkook’s sweatpants. “Not fair,” he says, wanting to sob, a hysterical cry building up in his throat. “Jungkookie is … is not being fair, ah—”
“You’re really going to deny me this pretty little cunt, Jimin-ah?” Jungkook asks, wetly mouthing over his neck, tipping his head to the side so he can lick and suck down the dainty curve of his throat. “Just look at it, baby. It’s weeping for me. Wants me to get it nice and wet. How can I ever say no?”
Jimin hiccups, eyes growing half-lidded as pleasure sparks in his belly, spreading down to his thighs and coursing through his veins in the form of liquid arousal. “You’re cheating,” he whines, thumping his fist against Jungkook’s thigh, whimpering as Jungkook starts tapping his clit with quick little nudges that turn into small slaps as his hand rubs so fast that it becomes a blur. “Even … even I can make myself come like this, hnn—”
Jungkook’s throat clicks with a harsh swallow, his fingers slowing reluctantly. “Fine,” he says gruffly. “How many?”
Jimin blinks away fresh tears, mind struggling to catch up. “Hnnn?”
“How many fingers do you use?” Jungkook murmurs, his fingers dragging through his wet heat to settle at his convulsing opening, trying to knuckle it open. “When you’re stretching yourself for cock.”
Jimin drags in a rough breath. “Two,” he manages, eyebrows drawing together in helpless pleasure as Jungkook slowly, so slowly, starts to push a thick finger inside.
“Oh.” He shivers, clenching around the intrusion, the thick weight of Jungkook’s middle finger rubbing against his inner walls making him pant. “I … I’m …. Oh!”
“How is it?” Jungkook rasps. He drives out and then fucks in wetly, holding his finger there, letting Jimin’s pussy squeeze and drip around it. “How does it feel, mm? Tell me.”
For a second, Jimin can’t even think, let alone speak. He feels oddly woozy and disconnected, his inner muscles clenching hotly, the warm weight of Jungkook’s finger heavy and thick in a way he’s never felt before. It’s never—never felt like this before, never so painless, never so good that he can feel himself pulse and throb every time Jungkook shifts his finger. It’s just one finger, fucked in to the last knuckle, and yet the way Jungkook is using it, the way he’s curling it just right and dragging it like he knows—
Don’t stop, Jimin wants to beg. Please don’t stop, please keep going, oh fuck—
“Bad,” he chokes out. He’d rather die than admit defeat this soon. “Not … not good.”
Jungkook’s chest shakes with laughter. “Really?” He wiggles his finger, curling it inwards and nudging inside, knuckle-deep in Jimin’s mess and forcing out obscene sounds from him. “Is that why you keep wetting my wrist, Jimin-ah?”
Jimin gasps, mortified. “Not true,” he insists, but then he glances down and sees his slick running down Jungkook’s hand in thick rivulets, glistening wet under the dim lights of their living room, only increasing as Jungkook keeps fucking him with deep, thorough thrusts. “Ah, ah, uhn—”
“There we go.” Jungkook groans in approval, fucking him harder now, driving his finger deeper with every stroke in. “That’s what I wanted to hear, hyungie. Your sweet bird voice singing for me while I show you how real men fuck.”
Jimin whines, thighs shaking, sweat gathering at his temples. “Thick,” he sobs out. “So thick and deep inside me—oh, nngh—”
“You’ve obviously been neglecting this pretty pussy.” Jungkook huffs, curling his finger and rubbing. Jimin barely bites down on a loud, slutty moan, his thighs flexing, toes threatening to curl. He’s never just been held open and fingered like this before, and the feeling is something dangerously new, something that’s making heat coil in his tummy too quickly for his liking. “So damn tight around me. Keeps trying to push me out like it’s scared.” His breath is fast, hitting Jimin’s nape in quick, hot bursts. “Feels like a virgin’s cunt, baby.”
“Nuh uh,” Jimin slurs out, shaking his head against Jungkook’s shoulder. “Not a virgin. I have … I have lots of sex.”
It’s not exactly a lie. He did have a lot of sex up until six months ago, when he discovered that he was a little too attracted to his best friend and no one else was doing it for him anymore. He now prefers riding his pillow in the dead of the night when he knows Jungkook is asleep, prefers rubbing his clit until he comes with Jungkook’s name on his lips, likes to fuck himself with a long, fat dildo while imagining that it’s Jungkook’s cock inside him, fantasizing about him spearing him open, touching all the right spots that others can’t reach, fucking him so well, making him take it, hnn…
But it’s a closely guarded secret. Jungkook doesn’t know. He can never know, even if they’re doing this right now. He’s too precious to Jimin for him to confess and risk ruining their friendship, even if the way his finger is moving inside him should be criminal, should be illegal in at least fifty countries.
“Sex with the wrong people, evidently,” Jungkook grits out, sounding irrationally angry about it. He adds another finger, fucking him with two now, stuffing him full with quick, rough shoves. “Clearly they knew nothing about what this greedy little pussy needs.”
Jimin whines through it, his mouth parted on a silent cry, pussy running so hot that he feels like he’s catching a fever, sopping wet and emitting filthy shlick-shlick noises as Jungkook twists and fucks, then fucks and twists, curling them up and repeatedly bumping against a spot that makes Jimin’s eyes almost roll back, a throbbing pressure building in his lower belly, one that makes him feel strange in a way he’s never felt before.
“W-wait.” Jimin’s hand flies down to try and pause Jungkook’s fingers, his vision swimming. “Stop, ahn, stop—it—it feels weird, Jungkookie … you’re … you’re touching somewhere strange, nnnh—”
“You’re just coming,” Jungkook whispers hotly, right against the shell of his ear. He nips at his earlobe, and God why does that feel so good, his fingers scissoring Jimin’s cunt open, not relenting for even a second, finding a permanent home in the soaking wet pouch of his pussy. “Let it happen, baby. I’ve got you.”
Jimin shakes his head, full-on sobbing now, his cheeks wet with overstimulated tears. Why can’t Jungkook just understand? “It’s not come,” he whines pitifully, trying and failing to urgently pull Jungkook’s fingers out of him. “Feels … feels like pee, oh, hnn, stooop—”
Jungkook’s chest heaves behind him. “Fuck.” He sounds hoarse, like his control is fraying at the edges. He won’t stop twisting his fingers, won’t stop stabbing them against that bundle of nerves that’s threatening to make Jimin fall apart at the seams. “You don’t even know, do you?”
“Stop,” Jimin gasps wetly, his eyes rolling back as his toes curl tight, head limp and useless on Jungkook’s shoulder, slick mouth parted around ragged breaths. “Something—something’s happening—fuck, unh, no—”
“Give it to me,” Jungkook growls, fucking him faster now, fingers going squick squick squick, drawing out wet little squelches from his cunt that keep getting louder, hands holding Jimin’s thighs hostage as they try to snap together. “Show me, Jimin-ah. I want to be the first. I need to be the first—fuck, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. Would fucking kill them if they tried to put their hands on you.”
The words, said in such a low, possessive growl by his usually very non-violent best friend, are the final straw for Jimin. Something snaps inside of him, a fragile thread tearing in half, and then he’s coming so hard that his mind whites out, a strangled scream trapped in his throat as a violent spray gushes out of his cunt, soaking him down to the knees, wetting the grey fabric of Jungkook’s sweatpants, seeping through the leather of the couch.
Jimin is shaking, trembling down to his very toes, his entire body flushed pink, back arching as another gush of slick escapes him, wet and hot and messy, drenching the floor this time.
“Oh, f-fuck, please—” Jimin sobs, a violent shudder wracking through him, hiccuping and squirming, eyes rolling shut as the heel of Jungkook’s palm presses down on his throbbing clit, practically drilling down on it as he fucks him with quick, slapping motions. It making it feel like one continuous orgasm that just won’t stop. “Jungkookie, make it—ah, make it stop, please—”
Jungkook is moaning under his breath behind him, sounding as overwhelmed as him, kissing the side of his neck again and again, praising Jimin and calling him perfect, calling him baby. And he keeps going, keeps fucking Jimin through it, forcing out even more of that substance in short, sopping bursts, fingers big and invasive and merciless as they work his slippery cunt open.
Jimin is inconsolable, tears blurring his vision, pussy so wet that it won’t stop dripping, won’t stop making noises. He reaches down to wrench Jungkook’s fingers out of him, a whine leaving him at the sudden loss, cunt squeezing around nothing as it lets out another humiliating gush of slick that Jungkook’s fingers were holding in.
“Perfect,” Jungkook mumbles into his neck, drawing his shirt off his shoulder and sucking a dark mark into the pale, sensitive skin. “So pretty, baby. Sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jimin’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, mind delirious with need and body buzzing with a life-changing orgasm. “I just peed all over you and you’re calling me sexy,” he whines out, covering his face with both hands as shame envelopes him. “I’m so … so sorry, oh my God—”
“What? Hyung, no.” Jungkook pulls his hands away and turns his face, forcing him to hold his eyes. “That wasn’t pee,” he murmurs, leaning forward to drop a kiss on the tip of his nose, and then another on his forehead, his dry hand reaching up to cup his cheek, skimming a warm thumb over the apple of his cheekbone. “You just—" he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes darkening in a way that makes Jimin’s belly flip. “You squirted.”
Jimin’s eyes go round with disbelief. “What? But that’s—”
“Another myth?” Jungkook supplies, appearing a little too amused, the look in his eyes so fond that it makes Jimin’s heart flutter. “It isn’t, baby.” He swallows hard, his smile fading. “Knew you could squirt the moment your pussy grew as wet as a pool for me.”
Jimin’s eyes squeeze shut in mortification. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Give me another one,” Jungkook says in a hot whisper, already stuffing two fingers inside Jimin again. “Mm? Give me one more, hyung, c’mon. Wanna see you come again.”
Jimin shakes his head even as he rolls his hips to meet Jungkook’s fingers, a loud whimper trapped behind his teeth. “I can’t,” he tries. “Can’t—”
“You can,” Jungkook murmurs, hitching his thigh further up to access him better, holding him by the back of his thigh to keep him in place. “I’ll make you, baby, yeah? Let me show you.” His voice turns rougher, fingers disappearing into the pocket of Jimin’s cunt completely, and all Jimin can do is whine through it, thighs already starting to shake again. “Let me show you how hungry this shy little pussy can get.”
Jimin can only tense up and take it, pussy obscenely wet, drenching Jungkook’s fingers with a new load every time he fucks in. It’s humiliating and makes his cheeks burn, but he can’t stop coming. Can’t stop squirting, the feeling of the spray that keeps being forced out of him in thin rushes making him drool, arcing unevenly as it soaks them both. It gathers in a wet, heated pool below him, making him choke and shake, his eyes crossing a little when the pleasure becomes too much for him to handle.
“Think I’ve fucked you open enough for three?” Jungkook asks, freeing his fingers with an obscene pop so he can rub at Jimin’s swollen, neglected clit. “Think this sloppy little pussy can handle three, hyung?”
Jimin doesn’t answer. He can’t answer, not with how winded and breathless being fondled like this is making him. He simply takes Jungkook’s hand and guides it down to his loosened hole, tucking one of his fingers back in until it’s fully seated inside him with a filthy little squelch.
Jungkook hisses, his cock giving a mean jerk against Jimin’s ass. “Shit, baby.”
Jimin whimpers, low and needy, and then he does the second, both of them watching him fuck Jungkook’s tattooed fingers back in, breathing hot and heavy. Jimin keens at the stretch, already stuffed to the brim, but he still manages to force Jungkook’s third finger in, his head knocking back against Jungkook’s shoulder with a low whine, drool sticking to his chin as his eyes roll halfway back.
“Ngh—”
It’s a stretch, a deep, deep stretch, and ah, fuck, it aches, making him throb somewhere deep inside, makes him feel irrationally empty, and his pussy is actively trying to shove them out, but they fit. He makes them fit by holding them in place and driving them deeper inside, plugging them in with his own small fingers because he knows Jungkook’s will slip out if he lets go, breathing through the stretch because he’s not a damn quitter.
“Made them fit,” Jimin slurs out, sniffling now, hips shifting as his cunt is abused in a way that makes him delirious. “Made Jungkookie’s big fingers fit in my small cunnie, hnnn—”
“Fuck.” Jungkook lets out a hard breath, fucking him with all three of his fingers now, drawing in and out with thick, wet drags, making Jimin’s mouth fall open, his face scrunching with too much pleasure. “Fuck.”
“Hah—” Jimin pants, eyes fluttering shut as another weak squirt bursts out of him, spurting around Jungkook's thick, intrusive fingers like a broken fountain. “Ah-hnn, I’m—’m coming—”
Jungkook lets out a low, overwhelmed laugh. “You have so much inside you,” he mutters with a low hiss, sounding almost like he’s in awe. A pleased flush touches Jimin’s cheeks, but then his expression breaks as he hiccups, stuck in place as Jungkook glides his fingers back and forth, forcing him open almost ruthlessly now, his wet knuckles kissing the entrance of Jimin’s leaking hole at very slide in. “Never fucked anyone as needy as you, hyung.”
Jimin is too far-gone to even be embarrassed about the revelation. It just makes him greedier, hips nudging forward to meet Jungkook, his eyes welling up again. “You’re—you’re stretching me so much, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin’s head lolls aimlessly on the younger’s shoulder, mouth dropped open on a long, drawn-out moan. “Do you—are you gonna fuck me?”
Jungkook groans at the words, loud and desperate. His hand speeds up, almost feverish now, determined to keep making Jimin come. His forehead comes to rest on Jimin’s shoulder, shaky breath hot against his sweaty skin.
“Do you want me to, baby?” His fingers drive deeper, rubbing against the spot that has Jimin crying out, his legs kicking out against the white-hot pleasure. Jungkook just bullies him back into position, hooking his chin over his shoulder so he can watch Jimin fall apart. “Want me to put my cock in you?”
Jimin sobs, eyes falling shut against overstimulated tears. “Please.” His breath shudders out of him in a wet gasp. “Ahn, f-fuck. Hurts.”
Jungkook kisses his cheek, then licks away his tears with a mockingly sympathetic hum. “Too much?”
“Too little,” Jimin snaps back, pouting now, utterly unhappy with all the teasing. “Put your—your cock in me, please—”
“So demanding,” Jungkook growls, reaching down to spread Jimin’s ass cheeks so he can stretch him even further, twisting his fingers in and keeping them there. “Soaking through my pants and ruining the floor wasn’t enough for you, sweetheart?”
“Your cock,” Jimin maintains, shameless now, blubbering through his words as drool pools in his mouth. “Ah, want—want your cock, please please please—”
Jungkook inhales sharply, his hold tightening around him. His fingers slowly pull out of Jimin’s wet, swollen cunt, breath growing harsher as he noses at his neck. “How can I say no when you beg like that, hyung?” Jimin makes a happy noise at the back of his throat, wiggling closer to him, but Jungkook firmly holds him in place. He brings his soaked, wrinkled fingers up to Jimin’s mouth. “Open.”
Jimin’s stomach dips at the rough command, but he parts his mouth and lets Jungkook sink his fingers into his mouth, the taste of Jimin’s own slick filling his mouth in a wet rush, making molten heat flare in his belly.
Jungkook fits them in deeper, almost invading his throat, forcing Jimin’s head to tilt back. “Suck.”
Jimin obeys with a low whimper, cunt pulsing as he sucks Jungkook’s fingers clean with needy pulls, his swollen mouth forming a pout as his lashes flutter at being forced to taste himself like this.
Jungkook mutters a low fuck, his gaze so darkly focused on him that Jimin thinks he might burst into flames under its intensity. Jungkook pushes down on his tongue, getting a little rough with it. “Good?”
Jimin doesn’t answer. He just stares up at him through his lashes, giving his tattooed fingers one last, soft suckle, drowsily tugging at his fingers, biting down lightly, moaning sweetly around them as he goes all pliant and docile in Jungkook’s lap.
“Don’t be so greedy, hyung.” Jungkook pulls his chin towards him, pulling his fingers out as he tugs him closer, whispering the words right against Jimin’s panting mouth. “Let me taste.”
He surges forward to catch Jimin’s mouth in a deep, wet kiss, biting down on his slick bottom lip and sucking in a way that has Jimin whining, licking into his mouth to taste him with a rough groan, cleaning up in there with warm, wet licks. Soft smacks emit from the space their mouths are connected, moving against each other wetly, their kisses sloppy in a way that ends up wetting both their chins.
Jungkook’s nose is digging into Jimin’s overheated cheek, his fingers gripping Jimin’s chin to keep him in place as he devours him, sucking his tongue and laving a fat stripe over the roof of his mouth and mapping soft, fond kisses all over the trembling moue of his swollen lips.
“Baby,” Jungkook rumbles, swiping a thumb over his cheek, kissing him again and again and then again. “Pretty baby.”
Jimin pulls back with a soft cry, his need overwhelming him, want and desire racing through him in a way that makes him feel restless and jittery with need. “Please,” he says, his breath hitching. “Your cock—want your cock—please, please—”
“Mm?” Jungkook is mouthing at his cheek now, relentless with his kisses. He gathers Jimin close to his chest, arms banding around his waist. “Baby feels empty?”
“So empty,” Jimin sobs, another gush of slick sliding out of him, cunt clenching needily. “I need—need you, please, ah—”
“Hyung’s soaked little cunnie needs to be stuffed full,” Jungkook murmurs against his ear in a low, dirty whisper. “Needs my big cock to make the ache go away. Right, baby?”
Jimin’s nodding mindlessly, vision going blurry, mind turning hazy and stupid. “Yes, yeah, your big cock in my little—little cunnie, hngh—”
“I'll give it to you, hyung,” Jungkook promises, voice thick with desire, hands coming down to rest at his hips. “But I need something else first.”
Jimin’s eyes furrow with confusion. “What—”
But Jungkook doesn’t give him a chance to speak. He flips him on his back in one smooth motion, knocking the breath out him. Jimin stares up at him with wide eyes, thighs parting to accomodate him, chest heaving with his unsteady pants as his fingers curl into the couch under him, expression turning small and unsure. “Jungkookie?”
Jungkook is staring down at him with a dark gaze that borders on possessive, his eyes two black pools of heated desire as they take him in. Jimin’s flushed, overwhelmed face, the blush that spreads down to his chest, the wet, obscene state of his cunt. His gaze snags there, glued to the apex of his thighs as he swallows and takes the time to stare, hands coming up to shove Jimin’s thighs up to his chest, exposing him to the cool air of the room, his pussy dribbling even more slick as it’s held up in such a way. Like this, everything is squished together, his swollen pussy lips closing up like drenched flower petals to hide his hole, cunt clicking wetly as he shifts restlessly.
Jungkook follows his movements with hungry, attentive eyes, reaching out with a rough thumb to drag it through his throbbing slit, trying to part him open even though his folds keep trying to stick together, nudging against his clit with firm, circular strokes. “So messy.”
Jimin’s face grows warm, but he holds himself by the backs of his trembling thighs, keeping himself in position for Jungkook, wanting to be good even when he’s losing his damn mind. “Jungkook-ah … are you … do you want to—”
“Wanna eat you out first,” Jungkook says gruffly, already leaning down to hover just above his pussy, his tongue slipping out to run along his lip. “Wanna suck your wet little pussy dry with my tongue.”
Jimin’s cunt throbs, a traitorous pulse that he feels somewhere deep in his belly.
“Yes, please,” he says, nodding quickly, peering down at him through his lashes. “You can—you can—ah, unh—!”
His words drift off into a soft, overwhelmed moan, because suddenly Jungkook is burying his face into his pussy and growling against it. Jimin shakes, a long, needy keen escaping him, his thighs threatening to clamp together, because even that touch—Jungkook’s nose nudging against his clit, his chin digging into the soft, wet skin of his pussy—is too much for him. He feels like he’ll come if Jungkook so much as blows on him.
Jungkook inhales deeply, groaning as he huffs his cunt as if he’s trying to get high off of it. The action has Jimin’s tummy clenching, and he presses up, trying to wriggle closer, his cunt aching with the need to spill, with the need to … to be touched and acknowledged and defiled.
“Jungkook-ah.” Jimin inhales shakily, staring down at his best friend through blurred, needy eyes. “I need … need …”
“I know what you need, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to his knee before he leans down again. “Let me give it to you, yeah?”
Instead of diving right in like Jimin expects him to, he turns his head to clean Jimin’s inner thighs first, licking away the remnants of his orgasm with the flat of his tongue, sucking a trail of dark marks into the flushed, sensitive skin as he kisses his way back to his cunt.
He pushes a hand against Jimin’s raised thighs to shove them up higher, and then spreads his chubby pussy lips with two inescapable fingers so he can lick between them, letting out a low, satisfied rumble as he closes his mouth around his throbbing clit and starts to suck.
“Ah!” Jimin jolts with a soft cry, humping up into Jungkook’s mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as more slick leaks out of him. Jungkook is mouthing at him with long, broad drags, lapping at his pussy like a hungry dog, pushing his nose into his damp skin as he leans down to nudge the tip of his tongue at his entrance. He licks there too, as if trying to taste the very essence of Jimin’s pussy after it’s orgasmed a shameless amount of times, his eyebrows furrowing angrily the way they do when he tastes something especially decadent. And then he … he spits there. Spits once, then twice, and then three more times, making it all messy and sloppy.
A low chuckle reverberates through his chest, and Jimin feels it right in his cunt, the vibrations making his toes curl. “Looks like you’ve wet yourself, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin gasps, feeling a little scandalised even as his pussy clenches at the words, but Jungkook pays him no mind. He’s too busy using his tongue to mop the mess up and fucking it into the loosened opening of Jimin’s cunt, cramming his greedy tongue into him in a thick slide, wagging it as he tries to lick at his inner walls with soft, panting groans that betray his own need.
Jimin lets out a wounded noise, hands flying down to fist Jungkook’s hair, his cunt seizing and convulsing as pleasure swells inside of him, swift and sudden and inescapable. He humps up into Jungkook’s mouth once, twice, and then he’s tensing up and coming with a low, helpless whine, his teary eyes going unfocused and glassy, so much desire pumping through his blood that he feels overworked and floaty in a way that makes him delirious.
Jungkook takes to the orgasm like a duck to water, unhinging his jaw to fit as much pussy in his mouth as possible, sucking Jimin through it with hot little tugs that make him whine with distress, his tongue flicking at his pulsing clit, his cheeks hollowing as he holds Jimin still and … and drinks from him, throat bobbing around his rough swallows.
“Stop,” Jimin sobs, trying to push him away, his eyes rolling back as his legs start to shake. “Stop, ah, stop, stop—”
Jungkook pulls away with a wet, sucking pop, his chest heaving as he pants. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, staring up at Jimin with dark eyes. “How the fuck,” he starts in a low, almost angry voice, “do you manage to taste so damn sweet even here?”
Jimin’s face turns bright red, humiliation rippling through him like a violent tide even as his pussy clenches around nothing, sopping wet and deprived, preening under the dirty praise like a peacock. “Don’t—I’m not—”
“Your pussy comes too quickly, hyung.” Jungkook tsks, as if he’s deeply unhappy about it. His eyes are glinting with warm humour. “Won’t let me have my fun.”
Embarrassment pools in his gut dizzyingly fast. “Shut up, oh my god.”
“One more,” Jungkook decides, eyes flickering back to his abused cunt. “One more, baby, and then I’ll give you my cock.”
“I can’t.” Jimin shakes his head desperately, trying to pull Jungkook up. “Jungkookie, I can’t—”
“You can,” Jungkook insists, spreading him open again, skimming a thumb over his shaky inner thigh. “I’ll fucking make you.”
The threat is made in such a warm, affectionate voice that all it does is confuse Jimin’s insides, making his stomach dip as his heart races, and all he can do is make a high-pitched, needy noise at the back of his throat as he’s folded even further in half, his knees resting on either sides of his ears now, his ass cheeks spread apart obscenely to reveal his other hole.
And then Jungkook does something Jimin isn’t expecting.
He sucks his fat clit into his mouth and shoves two fingers into him with a wet squelch, and Jimin barely gets the time to let out a sharp cry before Jungkook is pulling those fingers out and circling them at his asshole instead. His neglected, virgin asshole that’s already slick thanks to his insatiable cunt, that keeps contracting and pulsating every time Jimin clenches up and comes.
Jungkook forces a thick finger in there, giving his tight, resistant muscles no choice but to make room, and Jimin’s face screws up under the mix of pleasure-pain that washes over him, his drooling mouth hanging open as Jungkook starts fucking his ass with quick, dragging pushes that pull throbbing warmth into Jimin’s belly.
He doesn’t even give him the chance to get used to it—Jungkook adds another finger, and then another, stuffing him full and curling upwards as he keeps sucking his cunt with a sloppy, moaning mouth, muffling small, satisfied mmphs against him, lips fused to his pussy like a suction cup as he suckles Jimin’s clit like it’s a little cock, rapidly jamming his thick fingers into his struggling asshole at the same time.
“Jungkook!” Jimin doesn’t know what to do with himself. His legs are kicking out under the sudden assault, thighs trembling uncontrollably, pussy so wet that he can’t tell if the culprit is his slick or Jungkook’s saliva or both. “What are you—oh, God—”
“Your pretty little pussy isn’t the only hole that can be fingered, hyung,” Jungkook murmurs against him, planting a soft kiss on his pulsing clit. “We can’t neglect this sweet little ass, can we?” He pumps his fingers in faster, almost slamming into him now. “Look at how well it’s hugging my fingers.”
Jimin’s eyes roll back into his head so hard that he’s pretty sure he smells colours, a wet sob escaping his slack mouth. “Hnngh—oh, fuck, I’m—”
It’s too much. It’s all just too much. Jungkook slurping at his pussy like he’s a starving man getting his first sip of water, slipping his tongue into the tight cavern of his cunt and licking at his wet insides just to keep tasting him, fucking his long, unrelenting fingers in and out of his asshole in a mind-numbing, steady rhythm.
Jimin lets out a loud wail as his orgasm crests, thrashing helplessly as a large gush of slick squirts out of him in a long, wet rush, splashing against his thighs and right into Jungkook’s mouth, who makes a needy little noise before fitting his mouth around Jimin’s hole and slurping up his entire orgasm like he’s dying of thirst, his throat bobbing with it as if he’s taking a deep swig of a beverage, lips and tongue sucking with deep, nasty pulls that have Jimin’s face twisting desperately, his tummy clenching with overstimulation, his hands flying down to push Jungkook’s head away in a panic.
“Ah, stop,” he cries, bleary-eyed and sniffling. “Please—it’s too much—just—”
Jungkook pulls away from his cunt with a wet noise, drenched to the throat with Jimin’s come. He’s breathing hard, pupils so dilated that he looks a little out of it. He pops his fingers out of Jimin’s asshole, rubbing it soothingly as he scatters small kisses all over Jimin’s thighs, cooing at him as he shakes and cries. “Did so well for me,” he praises, leaning up to kiss his trembling belly. “You’re so beautiful, hyung.”
Jimin’s face turns pink, but he doesn’t have the energy to respond. All he can do is stare down at his best friend with a gasping mouth and wet, puppy dog eyes, gnawing at his abused lip as he contemplates begging again.
But Jungkook finally takes mercy on him. He rises to his knees above him and pulls his hoodie over his head, revealing his muscled abdominals and firm pecs, his happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants. Jimin’s breath starts to come in short bursts as his eyes snag on the heavy bulge in Jungkook’s pants, whining at the obscenely tented outline of his stiff cock as saliva pools in his mouth and his cunt convulses.
Jimin watches, unblinking and so unbelievably needy, as Jungkook unceremoniously tugs his pants down to free his fat cock, big and girthy as it slaps against his stomach with a soft smack, pre-come dribbling down the long shaft in an unapologetic stream, the tip flushed an angry red as it bobs and twitches against Jungkook’s abdomen.
How the hell is that even going to fit inside me, Jimin wonders deliriously, but then Jungkook is fisting that large, monstrous cock with his tattooed hand and shuffling closer on his knees, grabbing Jimin’s thighs to push them back into position, angling his cock down to slide the head against Jimin’s cunt once, twice, getting it nice and wet with dirty little swipes, slapping it against Jimin’s throbbing clit with quick snaps that have him whining pathetically. And then Jungkook is fitting his cock at his entrance and shoving into him with a low grunt, in, in, in, so fucking thick that Jimin swears he’s being split in half.
“Fucking shit.”
Jungkook’s breath is ragged, his fingers digging into Jimin’s hips as he pulls him down on his cock, pushing in until he can’t anymore, withdrawing only to fuck back in harder, deeper, a little more each time until he’s bottoming out completely, his balls slapping against Jimin’s cunt wetly, entire cock sheathed inside of him.
And all Jimin can do is stare up at him, eyes glassy and mouth parted, his face scrunched up as he tries not to clench up too tightly, his pussy hellbent on milking the life out of Jungkook as he draws back just to push in even harder, stretching his cunt open in a way it’s never been before, the thick drag of his dick applying such a deep pressure against his pulsing inner walls that Jimin barely keeps in a shriek, almost choking as Jungkook grinds into him with a dirty squelch, hips rolling forward, body coming down to cover Jimin completely.
“Nngh—”
“Shh, sweet baby,” Jungkook soothes, kissing his temple as he shoves into him, spreading his ass cheeks wider so he can fuck in as deep as he can, ramming into him in a way that has Jimin jolting, wet pressure pooling at his throbbing cunt. “You can take it.”
“Too big,” Jimin whimpers, shaking his head, hands coming up to clutch at Jungkook’s shoulders in desperation. “You’re—too deep inside—ungh—”
“So fucking tight,” Jungkook grunts, working his cock inside him with quick little shoves that drive Jimin further up the couch. His eyes roll back as his insides are assaulted so roughly, almost meanly, mouth falling open on a loud, endless moan. “I fingered you open for so long and yet you’re still—” he pulls out until only the tip of his cock is inside, “—so goddamn—” he slams back in, big and invasive, plunging into him with such force that Jimin almost screams, “tight.”
“Jungkookie,” Jimin slurs, staring up at him helplessly as his best friend wrecks him. “Jungkookie, oh, mm—”
“Just a little more, hyung,” Jungkook begs, groaning against the curve of his throat, grabbing his hips and pulling him down on his cock relentlessly, his hips pistoning as he pumps him full of his large, throbbing cock. “Fuck—just a little—”
Jimin hiccups and tenses as the building pressure in his cunt finally releases, his toes curling as he squirts around Jungkook’s big cock, gushing so hard that it shoves Jungkook out of him, his pussy clenching up tight as it leaks with fresh come. Jungkook moans at the sight, desperately fitting his cock back inside Jimin, pounding into him with a force that makes Jimin’s teeth clink, fucking him into the couch like his life depends on it.
His biceps flex and bunch with each powerful thrust, cock reaching in so deep and spearing him open so wide that Jimin can’t stop whining, can’t stop writhing and hissing under the assault, his cheeks wet with hot tears and pussy feeling bruised as it emits wet, filthy noises that make his ears burn. He feels impaled and stuck, held open by the sheer girth of Jungkook’s fat, veiny cock, soft little whimpers escaping him as he lies there and takes it.
And then Jungkook’s hips finally stutter, a low groan leaving him as he starts to come, spilling so hot and deep inside that Jimin can feel his cock jerking and twitching in him, shoving in fully as he grinds his release into Jimin’s clenching walls, painting his insides white. Jimin’s breath hitches at the warm feeling of being filled up so well, a string of come dripping out of his abused, puffy hole as Jungkook keeps thrusting, fucking his come deeper, letting out soft, needy grunts against Jimin’s ear.
Jimin turns his face to capture Jungkook’s lips in an overwhelmed kiss, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths, his wet lashes fluttering as Jungkook finally stops to kiss him properly, soft and thorough and affectionate, cradling his face like it’s something precious, his hand wrapping around the back of his head and sifting through his dark strands.
“You—you came so much,” Jimin mumbles as they part, staring up at him drowsily. “I can feel you leaking out, ah…”
Jungkook clears his throat, his cheeks burning red. “Shit, sorry. Just let me—” he pulls out, making Jimin whine at the abrupt loss and snap his thighs together. Jungkook kisses his temple, his forehead, the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth, helping him come down, swiping a firm, soothing thumb over the sweaty skin of his waist.
Jungkook is eyeing him carefully, the look in his eyes so soft and fond that it makes something inside Jimin’s chest twist. “You okay, hyung?”
Jimin’s mouth twists. “I’m pretty sure I saw God there for a second.”
Jungkook barks out a startled laugh, looking delighted. He noses at Jimin’s cheek, almost puppy-like with his affection. “Yeah?” he murmurs. “What’d he say?”
“Mm.” Jimin pretends to think. “Told me to stay away from all hung men for the foreseeable future. They’re bad for my health, apparently.”
Jungkook shakes with laughter, kissing his chin and then its underside. He stares up at Jimin, his eyes sparkling. “Hung, huh?”
“Like a horse.” Jimin swallows shakily. “What the fuck did your parents feed you, Jeon Jungkook?”
“Aish, this hyung.” Jungkook looks exasperated and amused. “You could’ve just said you liked it.”
“Well.” Jimin sniffs haughtily, his cheeks blooming pink. “I never said I didn’t like it.”
“Oh, so I should read between the lines, hm?”
“You’re incapable of even reading the lines, Jungkook-ssi,” Jimin retorts, averting his eyes now, feeling oddly vulnerable as the afterglow slowly winds down.
“Hey.” Jimin taps his chin gently. “Come back here and look at me. Don’t hide, hyung.”
Jimin lets out a long-suffering sigh, weakly shoving at him. “You won, alright? Now just stop bothering me already—”
“Let me prove something else,” Jungkook blurts. Jimin’s eyes snap back to him just in time to see a deep blush paint his cheeks, his doe eyes suddenly wary. “Let me—let me take you out on a date.”
Jimin’s mouth parts. “You…”
“Just one, hyung,” Jungkook mumbles. “I promise I’ll do it right, I’ll plan it and everything, and you won’t have to do a thing—”
“But you…” Jimin swallows, heart hammering nervously. “Why would you want to … ?”
Jungkook tilts his head, blinking down at him. His gaze is steady and unwavering. “Because I love you.”
Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, eyes widening. “You—what?”
Jungkook laughs a little, dry and self-depreciating. “Is it that shocking?” he wonders. “I thought it was pretty obvious. I only ever spend time with you.”
“But that’s because we’re best friends,” Jimin says weakly. “That’s what best friends do.”
Jungkook is starting to look a little upset now. “Is this what best friends do too, Jimin-ah?”
A heavy pang rips through Jimin’s chest. “No, I just—”
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook mutters, starting to draw away as his shoulders grow tense. “I shouldn’t have said anything, please pretend I didn’t—”
“I love you too,” Jimin confesses breathlessly, tripping over his words as he catches Jungkook’s wrist.
Jungkook stills. “What?”
“I have an embarrassingly gigantic crush on you,” Jimin continues, rambling now. “And—and it’s only gotten worse with time, and I’m just so shocked that you … that you love me back, and—”
Jungkook cuts him off with a rough kiss, deep and wet and probing, practically eating him as he devours his mouth. He pulls away only to say, “We’re going on that fucking date, Jimin-ah,” before he’s back to kissing Jimin stupid.
Well, Jimin thinks, that’s one way to score yourself a boyfriend.