Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

By the time Kim Junghwa Teacher was done with their fortnightly chapter test and had disappeared into the teacher’s workroom, Jungkook was finding it incredibly difficult to keep from fidgeting. He’d spent most of the night before rearranging his room and re-tuning the speakers of his sound system to account for the bigger bed, and hadn’t gotten to sleep until 3am. Then, to deal with being tired af, he’d had a Hot6 after school. He drank so little caffeine that it was making him feel a little like his eyeballs were vibrating.

This week had been pretty interesting, generally speaking. After they’d delayed practice on Monday so Jimin could give Taehyung his sex homework, the bros had taken a vote and decided that Taehyung should just study there instead of walking to the study room. So he’d chilled out with Sunmi the Desk Noona on Wednesday and today, surreptitiously letting her help him with his math homework.

Which had almost gotten them both in trouble when the first thing he’d done when Jungkook walked in on Wednesday was shove his phone with an email from the Haeundae Free Clinic open into his face. Emergency masturbation was one thing, but Jungkook had been informed under no uncertain terms that he was not, at any point, ever to have sex in the dance hagwon over a year ago.

It had made for a very uncomfortable practice, and Jimin, the asshole, had kept biting his lower lip and cackling when Jungkook was unable to look away. But they finally managed to nail the spin kick transition by the end of practice, so it was almost okay. Almost.

They’d spent most of the van ride to English hagwon on the group chat, but both Taehyung and Jimin had had actual important family shit to do when they got home from English. In revenge Jungkook had gone straight home and filmed himself jacking off and posted it in the group chat. Jimin had threatened to kill him in his sleep and Taehyung had posted a photograph of his stomach covered in come at 00:17 that morning, which Jimin had wailed about all morning before classes started.

Jimin spent most of lunch Thursday holding forth about how both of them were evil, with their private rooms and locking doors, and that he hated them. He had finally been pacified by Taehyung giving him a scalp massage and Jungkook rubbing his feet until the end of lunch, and by the promise that they’d make it up to him on Friday, when no one had anything to do after class.

Jungkook had called the furniture store and ordered a king-sized bed to be delivered by 8pm that night while he was waiting for his smoothie after school, and then called the apartment super to make sure that the delivery company would be able to get into his apartment.

Then he spent most of his time at math hagwon buying new sheets online. They wouldn’t be there in time for tomorrow, but he couldn’t steal his parents’ sheets forever.

When he’d gotten home he’d realized that he had forgotten to buy a frame for his new bed, which is why he’d been awake until 3. First he'd had to break down the old frame and carry it and the mattress and box spring out. Then he'd had to get the new box spring and mattress rearranged. It wasn’t the right height, which irritated him, but once he’d gotten the sheets on it and his totes stacked on one side like the world’s most suggestive bedside table, he figured it would do.

It was hard to keep from thinking about what the two of them would look like on his bed at the same time. He realized that he’d probably been less good at keeping his cool than he had thought he was when Taehyung pulled his Slytherin letter jacket out from under his backpack on the back of his desk and dropped it into his lap.

He jumped, which made Taehyung smile and Jimin laugh. He kicked Jimin in the ankle and quietly thanked Taehyung, then tried to rearrange himself so it was less painfully obvious that he was trying to Hoodie of Shame his way through an English class. Fucking mortifying. Ugh.

He managed to figure out how to deal just in time, because Kitty Teacher came sweeping in, wearing a long flowy black skirt that fell to her ankles (and the goddamn boots, ugh, he had to know where she’d bought them) and a long sleeved weird hooded ballet wrap top thing over what looked suspiciously like a band t-shirt, from what Jungkook could see of it. Weird.

“Okay, my darlings. Today we’re doing Chapter 7, ‘Talking about yourself.’ We’re supposed to be using the examples from the dreadfully dull worksheet we did last week, but, uh. How about we don’t, because it was boring af.” Teacher Kitty winked at Taehyung when he gasped, then walked back over to the door of the classroom and eased the door closed with her foot.

Once the door was closed she walked back to the desk and actually sat in the chair behind it, which as far as Jungkook could remember she’d never actually done before. Usually she paced, or sat on the desk. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk, and looked all six of them over with serious eyes. “You guys aren’t little kids, you know. When I was your age I was going to concerts and making all kinds of deeply questionable life decisions. I’m not going to pretend that you aren’t doing the same. So how about we actually talk about shit that really matters, yeah? Working out how to say things that are more complicated than ‘I live in Busan’ or ‘I want to be a pilot.’ is going to help your English way more than any amount of rote memorization ever will.”

She looked at Subin and grinned a little at her disapproving glower, and then tipped her head at the girl in an obvious challenge. “So Subin, what’s your question for me? It’s only fair that I have to participate, too. Then I’ll ask someone else a question, then they’ll pass it on. Like Truth or Dare but just Truth.”

Jungkook felt his stomach drop, and barely even heard Subin asking Teacher Kitty her question, which was something about her clothes.

But then Teacher Kitty was squinting at the CCTV camera behind her to the right, and twisting in her chair a little so that when she hooked the sleeve of her wrap top up halfway to her elbow, revealing looping black script and a bright slash of red, it wouldn’t show up on the cameras.

Everyone gasped, because- Because teachers weren’t supposed to have tattoos, that’s why. It was just- It didn’t make sense. But she just pulled her sleeve down and grinned at them, then explained, with a kind of long-suffering patience in her voice, “I dress like a goth schoolmarm all the time because I have to. And no, I don’t like wearing that many clothes in the Summer, it does get hot. But teachers don’t get to have tattoos in Korea, so I wear lots of clothes.”

Jungkook realized he was staring at her like he’d never seen her before, which, well. He guessed that he hadn’t. He wasn’t exactly in the habit of thinking of his teachers as human beings with thoughts and feelings and interests. Or tattoos. Weird.

Then she looked at Jimin and tipped her head to the side, obviously thinking. “So Jimin, what kind of dance do you do? Do you want to do it professionally? Or just until it’s time to go to college and do something your parents think is important instead?”

Jungkook turned to watch his best friend, who was boggling at Teacher Kitty, and grinned, a little. Well this was definitely going to keep him from thinking about what was going to happen after class.

----

Jimin told the van driver that he was going over to Jungkook’s to study, so the ajeossi just nodded and all three of them piled into the very back of the van to make room for the rest of the non-workaholics who were going home. Jungkook found himself the farthest from the door, kind of wedged into the wall, and elbowed Taehyung’s side until he moved enough that Jungkook could pull off his backpack and balance it on his lap, settling back into the padded seat with a sigh. “Teacher Kitty is definitely the most interesting English teacher I’ve ever had.”

Jimin snorted, blushing a little, and looked at his knees. His question had ended up causing Teacher Kitty to ask all six of them what they wanted to do with their lives, and Minji had almost cried when Teacher Kitty hadn’t let her get away with saying ‘I want to be an engineer’ and she’d been forced to explain that she didn’t actually know what kind of engineering she wanted to do, but that her dad was an engineer, so that’s why she wanted to do it, to make him proud. Minji had kicked him on the way out of class, and Jungkook suspected he was worried about class on Monday, since all three of the Super Nerds were in Korean with him and it wasn’t exactly Jimin’s best subject.

Taehyung snorted, shaking his head, and lowered his voice enough that Jungkook and Jimin had to lean in to hear him over the road noise, “Did you hear her out herself, when Eunji asked her if she had a boyfriend? I can’t believe she said ‘I haven’t had a boy or girlfriend since I moved to Korea’. I mean, fuck. Kitty Teacher is fucking hardcore.”

All three of them nodded, looking kind of stunned, and sat in companionable, slightly traumatized silence until the van pulled up in front of Jungkook and Taehyung’s apartment complex. Then they all put their backpacks back on and trooped across the plaza and into the lobby, waiting for the elevator in varying states of uncoolness.

As soon as the elevator doors opened Jungkook piled in and stabbed the button for his floor, then settled his backpack against the handrail and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He was doing his best to stay calm, but he could already feel anxiety starting to twist in his stomach like a bunch of ill-tempered snakes. He didn’t think that this was a bad idea, but he still felt a little like throwing up, because-

Because he couldn’t imagine what he’d do, if something went wrong. He knew Jimin would forgive him just about anything, but he was painfully aware that he just didn’t know Taehyung that well. He didn’t think that he’d do anything mean, in fact couldn’t really imagine him doing so, but that didn’t make him less nervous. Because something bad might happen.

“Okay, I’m just saying right now, there will be no 28 Floor Sex Talk. I’m too nervous already.” Jungkook jumped when Taehyung started talking, leaning against the other side of the elevator in an almost identical position, except for the fact that his hands were wrapped around the rail to either side of his hips. It made his body arch forward a little, which drew Jungkook’s attention to his chest, how his loose t-shirt exposed the sweep of his collarbone.

Jungkook opened his mouth to claim that he had no idea what Taehyung was talking about, and jumped a little when Jimin pressed his fingertips under his jaw, pushing his mouth shut. “Oh no, Jungkook. He’s definitely not wrong, and I’m so fucking nervous that I feel like I’m gonna puke. There shall be no inappropriate commentary until we get in your apartment. My heart can’t take it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jungkook muttered, twisting his head to get away from Jimin’s fingers. Taehyung and Jimin exchanged a long look and snorted almost simultaneously, which made him blush, and then all of them ended up just sort of… Laughing at how ridiculous this all felt.

By the time the door opened again they were all smiling, which felt less weird, and Jungkook didn’t bother to wait for them as he hauled ass for his door, because he knew they knew where it was. Once the lock clicked he pushed the door open and dropped his backpack in front of it to hold it there and sat down to start unlacing his Timbs, then grinned up at Jimin and Taehyung as they dropped their backpacks to one side of the shoe room, Jimin hauling Jungkook's backpack just far enough into the room that the door clicked closed under its own weight.

Jimin pulled his shoes off without bothering to untie them and Taehyung did the same, the elastic quick laces making that less weird. They were both barefoot and smirking down at him before he pulled his first boot off, and he grumbled dramatically as he started on the laces of the second one. “It’s not my fault my shoes take forever to take off. Fuck.”

“You just like wearing them because you’re the same height I am in them,” Taehyung said sweetly, then giggled as Jimin poked him in the side and mock-glowered up at his face. They got distracted enough by the ensuing tickle-slap fight that Jungkook had a chance to get his boots and socks off unmolested.

When he stood up he realized that they’d stopped, Taehyung’s hands wrapped around Jimin’s, and were watching him. Their eyes tracked him like they were cats and he was something small and furry and delicious. It was both uncomfortable and hot as hell.

Jungkook drew himself up, tipping his chin in defiance of his nerves as much as because he knew it made his jaw look impressive, and unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off his shoulders. It caught on his elbows for a second before he twisted his wrists and gave himself a little shake, sending it fluttering to the floor.

Jimin made a soft little appreciative noise, pulling at his lower lip with his teeth, but Taehyung made a rumbly little sound and stepped forward, reaching his hands out to hook his fingers through the belt loops of Jungkook’s jeans so he could pull him forward. “Hey, Kookie-ah. I didn’t agree to have a sleepover with the Sex Demon, I agreed to have a sleepover with Jeon Jungkook. So cut it out.”

There was nothing that Jungkook could say to that that he didn’t think would get him into trouble, so he just sort of blinked at Taehyung, feeling painfully at a loss for words. He was embarrassed but pleased when Taehyung just smiled at him and pulled him another step forward into a kiss.

He was distracted enough by the soft press of Taehyung’s lips against his that he didn’t even notice that Jimin was moving until he settled up against his back, tucking his chin over Jungkook's shoulder and wrapping his arms around his middle with a happy noise that made Jungkook’s stomach turn over. “It’s okay, Kookie-ah. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t like you. So just, like. Be a teenager for a while, yeah? ‘Cause I don’t think either of us can deal with you on your A-game right now.”

Taehyung nodded, leaning back enough to pin Jungkook with a wide-eyed look, his lips pressed together in a nervous little expression that belied the flush of his cheeks. He hooked his fingers deliberately into the front of Jungkook’s jeans, skin warm where his knuckles pressed into the flat of Jungkook’s stomach, and said quietly, as Jimin pressed a kiss to the side of Jungkook’s neck that made him shiver, “I’m already so fucking turned on that it’s kind of uncomfortable, so, like. If you broke out the weird shit I’d probably die.”

Jimin laughed at that, arching up onto his toes so he could grind his erection against Jungkook’s ass, and the noise that Jungkook made kind of embarrassed him, even as he was tipping his head back to press his cheek to the side of Jimin’s head. “I don’t- I don’t know what you mean-”

Taehyung pulled Jungkook’s pants out far enough that Jimin could slide his hands into them, palming against the low of Jungkook’s stomach as Taehyung’s long fingers undid his fly. It made Jungkook jump and squeak, writhing back against the compact warmth of Jimin’s body, and his knees wobbled, a little, when Taehyung palmed him through his shorts and pressed a warm, open kiss to the side of his neck. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah, Kookie-ah?”

Jungkook nodded uncertainly, shuffling his feet to reestablish his balance as Jimin slid his hands out of his pants and back over his hips as he stepped away and Taehyung took a deliberate step back, smiling crookedly. Jimin and Taehyung pulled their jackets off and left them in little heaps in the shoe room, then they each caught one of Jungkook’s hands — Taehyung tangling the fingers of his right hand with his left and Jimin wrapping his right hand around Jungkook’s left thumb — and started tugging him towards his bedroom like they were worried he wouldn’t come willingly.

In fairness, he wasn’t entirely certain that he would, since in the last minute and a half his understanding of how tonight was going to go had just been turned entirely on its head. He laughed, feeling all fizzy with nerves and arousal, and swung his arms a little as Taehyung pushed his door open, saying softly, “Did you guys, like. Work out a game plan for this? I feel attacked.”

Taehyung stopped walking when he saw the new bed, and Jimin had to sort of push them through the doorway, and when he finally got a good view of the room he made a disgusted sound and hid his face against the back of Jungkook’s neck. “Oh my god. Jungkook. Yes, we did. And can you blame us? We’re dealing with a gorgeous, glorious idiot who bought a new bed for us to have a threesome on.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds weird.” Jungkook hadn’t especially thought it was weird, at the time, he’d just been thinking about how much of the bed he and Taehyung had taken up, and how he didn’t want the three of them to have to worry about space. But on reflection, maybe it had been a little weird.

Jungkook was contemplating whether or not he should feel bad about his impulse purchase when Taehyung slid his hands around Jungkook's middle, tucking them up under his shirt as Jungkook took a deep, shaky breath. The kiss that Taehyung pressed to the side of his neck didn’t help him feel any less ridiculous. Although the thing he did with his tongue in the little hollow behind Jungkook’s ear distracted him thoroughly enough that his pants were around his knees before he realized Taehyung had moved his hands.

“Yaaaah-” he breathed, standing on the hem of his jeans so he could step out of them, only to gasp when Taehyung pressed up against his back and he realized Taehyung wasn’t wearing pants either. Jungkook turned around in Taehyung’s arms, rubbing his nose against the side of Taehyung’s, and slid his hands up under the back of Taehyung’s t-shirt as he asked, painfully aware that he was whining, “What the fuck is this, hyung? Seduce the maknae night?”

Jimin at least had the decency to laugh softly enough behind him that he didn’t jump again, before he ran the bridge of his nose up the back of Jungkook’s neck and laced his fingers through Taehyung’s to pen him in. “In fairness, Kookie-ah, you did kind of already seduce both of us. It’s only fair to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

Jungkook grumbled against the corner of Taehyung’s smiling mouth as Jimin steered all three of them towards the edge of the bed, then laughed when Taehyung tripped over Jimin’s track pants and fell sideways onto the bed, long leg trailing the pants for a second before he succeeded in kicking them off his foot.

Taehyung looked so stunned, staring up at the two of them, that Jungkook couldn’t help but crumple down onto his knees so he could hide his face against the soft, slightly concave pan of Taehyung’s stomach and cackle. “Oh- Oh fuck. You’re so cute, Tae-honey.”

It sounded like Taehyung was considering being indignant for a second or two, grumbling low in his throat. Then the bed bounced a little as Jimin hopped onto it, and he started laughing. Long, deft fingers wound their way through the smooth fall of Jungkook’s hair, tangling pleasantly in it as he lay still and caught his breath.

After a moment he realized that the energy in the room had shifted. When he tipped his head up he caught a very confusing, but pleasing, view of Taehyung and Jimin kissing, all full, soft mouths and tongues and quiet sounds of pleasure. He bit his lip, totally unprepared for how it made him feel, all hot and cold and so turned on he didn't even have words to describe it. Then he jumped, when Taehyung slid his hand down out of his hair to brace against his jaw, the pad of his thumb gentling against Jungkook’s lower lip in an incredibly intimate way.

“Either you need to make up for Wednesday or get up on this bed, Kookie-ah,” Taehyung’s voice was the slightest bit distracted sounding, which seemed fair, given that Jimin had his head buried in the crook of his neck and sounded like he was doing something very distracting indeed. But his eyes were clear enough, warm and dark in the golden glow of the track lighting, as he looked down the line of his body at Jungkook’s face. Which probably looked at least as stunned as he felt. Fuck.

Jungkook had to squeeze his knees together at the invocation of Wednesday. His voice was husky and soft when he dragged his tongue flat across the pad of Taehyung’s thumb and murmured, trying not to smile, “D’you want me to?”

Taehyung whined, low in his throat, and lifted his hips up with a fussy little mutter. Jungkook grinned, reaching up to gentle his hand up the inside of Taehyung’s thigh, and tilted his head catlike into the drag of Taehyung’s fingers through his hair as Taehyung sat up a little, grumbling as he did so.

It became obvious why he was grumbling when Jimin stuck his head up over Taehyung’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Taehyung's middle, sticking his legs out on either side of Taehyung’s hips like a golden-skinned, muscular chair back. Jungkook couldn’t help but grin at how pleased with himself his best friend looked, even as he realized that he probably looked pleased with himself because Jungkook was on his knees between Taehyung’s thighs, looking up at both of them with dawning realization.

Jungkook sat up suddenly, his eyes wide with indignation as he boggled at them both, no longer even trying to conceal their amusement. “You planned this out! Hyungs! How dare you!”

The look on Jimin’s face, eyes dark and face flushed, his chin hooked over the edge of Taehyung’s shoulder and his lower lip caught in his teeth, made Jungkook’s breath catch, his hands tensing the slightest bit on Taehyung’s adorably bony knees. Then Taehyung was smoothing his callused fingers along Jungkook’s jaw, easing his face up to look at him, and- And Taehyung’s smile was so soft, his eyes creasing up a little at the corners, that Jungkook’s nascent irritation and embarrassed anger just sort of turned to ash in his chest.

Taehyung licked his lips as he leaned down, pulling Jungkook closer in with a gentle pressure against his jaw. When their mouths met his lips were already parted, an invitation that Jungkook couldn’t help but take, licking into his mouth with a needy little sound. His anxiousness showed in the way his hands rubbed restlessly up the soft skin of Taehyung’s thighs and in the tension of his shoulders, clear under Taehyung’s wandering hands.

When their lips came apart with a soft sound Taehyung rubbed the side of his nose against Jungkook’s, breathing just the slightest bit faster than he had been before. He rubbed his thumb against the underside of Jungkook’s cheekbone, and admitted, his low voice raspy and soft, “We did, yeah. But- But I was worried I’d space out, if we didn’t. And I really want you to, uh. You know. If you want to.”

Jungkook couldn’t help his laugh, a bare huff of breath against Taehyung’s cheek as he hid his face in the mesmerizingly soft fall of his hair. It really wasn’t fair, how soft his hair was. “Oh, fuck. Hyung, you’re so sweet. But I’m not gonna do it unless you can say it.”

It sounded suspiciously like Jimin was chuckling, somewhere behind Taehyung, but the older boy just leaned back until their foreheads were barely touching. He stared Jungkook straight in the face with those enormous eyes of his, hands maybe trembling just the slightest bit against the points of Jungkook’s jaw as he said, voice low and breathy and serious, “Suck my cock, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Okay.” Jungkook swallowed, painfully aware that his mouth was already watering, and settled back onto his heels as Jimin gathered Taehyung back up against his chest. He watched with interest as Jimin eased his thumbs into the band of Taehyung’s underwear, that same dusty blue as the ones that he’d worn the Sunday before, and eased them down onto the tops of his hips. Then Jungkook hooked his fingers in next to Jimin’s and slid them the rest of the way down Taehyung’s legs, trying to pay attention to what his hands were doing when Jimin hummed softly and Taehyung gasped, because-

Because he didn’t think he was going to be able to keep his shit together long enough to do a good job, if he saw what Jimin was doing. He could guess, but guessing wasn’t the same thing as seeing. He shifted his knees a little farther apart, tucking his toes over each other, and hooked his thumbs against the insides of Taehyung’s ankles to run his hands up the long, long line of Taehyung’s legs, sliding his palms over the sinewy muscles of his calves and over his knees to ease Taehyung’s thighs a little farther apart.

When his attention settled on Taehyung’s groin he snorted, and brought his hands up along the trembling muscles of Taehyung’s inner thighs with a soft sound, palming over his balls with an appreciative little noise as he leaned in to drag his tongue up the crease where Taehyung’s thigh met his body, shifting with him as he arched weakly and moaned. “Finally got a trimmer, huh?”

Taehyung grumbled and threaded his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, which Jungkook took to mean that he wanted him to stop fucking around. He rubbed his thumb against the base of Taehyung’s dick, which made him arch his back a little, and dragged his tongue up the long, graceful curve of his dick with an open, pleased sound. Fuck but he loved giving head.

When he tasted the sharp bite of precome against the tip of his tongue he huffed a little sound and shifted his hips a little, aware that there was probably an answering spot on his own underwear. He curled his tongue up against Taehyung’s frenulum, keeping his touch deliberately light, and couldn’t help but grin when Taehyung’s hips bounced up as he gasped, high and surprised-sounding.

Jungkook leaned deliberately back into the pull of Taehyung’s hands in his hair, blinking his eyes open to stare heavy-lidded up at- Oh, Christ. Up at Taehyung’s chin, his head tipped back against Jimin’s shoulder, and Jimin watching him with a look of awe on his face. Jungkook dragged his lower lip through his teeth, momentarily at a loss for words, before asking, aware that he probably sounded kind of awkward and dumb, “So, uh. I know you said I wasn’t supposed to do anything too Sex Demon-y, but, uh. Are you gonna fuck my face again, hyung, or do you want me to do something else?”

The noise Jimin made was sort of inarticulate and embarrassed, his eyes squeezing almost closed like he was either trying not to imagine that or imagining it really, really enthusiastically. But Taehyung just carded his fingers through Jungkook’s hair and heaved a gusty sigh, his voice resonant in the quiet room. “I don’t really give a fuck, Jungkook, as long as you don’t stop. But, like. I don’t feel like this is really an ideal position for face fucking of any variety.”

That seemed reasonable enough. So Jungkook just made a small affirmative noise and closed his eyes again, because Jimin’s eyes felt like a literal weight against his skin. It was fucking hot, but he really didn’t need that kind of distraction at the moment. He wet his lips liberally and smoothed them over the head of Taehyung’s cock, pursing them just enough catch against the flare of his cockhead as he leaned in.

Taehyung jerked again as Jungkook lapped his tongue against his slit. General disdain for using his hands or no, Jungkook brought his hand up to stroke up Taehyung's shaft as he leaned back, letting Taehyung's foreskin slide up to cover most of his glans. He pushed the first joint of his thumb up against the underside of Taehyung's cockhead just hard enough that the balls of Taehyung’s feet pressed against the ground and a soft, wanting sound worked its way out of his throat.

Jungkook grinned at how ready Taehyung was with his reactions, then set to the business of seeing how many of those sounds of pleasure he could get him to make, taking ruthless advantage of the fact that he had plenty of time to work with.

Or, as it turned out, maybe not that much time. Jungkook felt like he hadn’t been doing all that much, for all that long, when Taehyung’s breathing started picking up dramatically, his soft sighs getting louder and more emphatic. He dragged his eyes open and looked up, rotating the flat of his tongue in slow circles against Taehyung’s frenulum, which he’d discovered made him moan and hitch his hips like he couldn’t make up his mind if he wanted to push into or jerk away from it, and realized with a surprised blink that Jimin had started pinching Taehyung’s nipples through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

Taehyung was arching into it, one hand fisted into the bedspread and the other still spread across the back of Jungkook’s head, and- Fuck. It was really fucking hot. He leaned back a little, clearing his mouth with a slightly thick-feeling swallow, and kept up a nice, slow, steady stroke on Taehyung’s dick as he asked, genuinely not sure what he wanted the answer to be, “D’you want me to swallow, hyung?”

“Fuck, Kook- Kookie-ah, do whatever you want. But do it fast. I’m so close.” Taehyung’s voice was a little muffled against the side of Jimin’s neck, but Jungkook could hear him just fine. He rubbed his hands up along the insides of Taehyung’s thighs as he leaned in again to take him back into his mouth, at least as much to keep him from grabbing his own dick as for the extra sensation for Taehyung, since he really didn’t sound like he needed it.

When Taehyung came it was with a jerk and a soft, mewling cry that made Jungkook’s dick ache as he swallowed. Then his fingers slid out of Jungkook's hair and Jungkook started to lean back, just in time to catch the last of Taehyung's come right across his chin. He laughed and started to reach up to heel it off, when one of Jimin’s hands appeared as if from nowhere to slap it away.

Jungkook blinked up at him, a little taken aback, and tongued the come off the corner of his mouth as Jimin leaned forward, bringing Taehyung’s adorably unconscious body with him, to grab him by the hair. Thankfully Jungkook had more or less figured out that this was coming, and managed to get up onto the bed next to them without stepping on Taehyung, which would just have been mean.

Then Jimin was licking across the soft space under his lower lip and groaning, his fingers still twisted in Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook was legitimately concerned in the moment before their mouths met that he was going to come in his underwear without anyone having touched him at all. Fuck but this was surreal.

Thankfully kissing was familiar enough that even with Taehyung’s warm body half-caught between theirs Jungkook managed to keep it together. He was silently thankful that Jimin didn’t seem to be in any hurry to touch anywhere below his shoulders after he yanked Jungkook's shirt off over his head and pitched it onto the floor. Then Taehyung took a deep breath and made a sleepy little pleased sound as he arched up against Jungkook, bringing one hand up to pet down Jungkook's back. Jungkook bit Jimin’s tongue, letting it pull slowly through his teeth, then turned to nuzzle his face up against Taehyung’s with a sigh. “Welcome back, hyung. I didn’t realize you could still come after you’d passed out, it was a bit of a surprise.”

Taehyung grumbled out an embarrassed little sound and hid his face behind his free hand, still laying with most of his weight against Jimin’s body. Jungkook laughed, feeling weirdly giddy. Someone had gotten off and it hadn’t been weird or horrible, and everything would be fine. Take that, brain.

Jimin scooted back, then, holding Taehyung up with his hands long enough that when Jimin let him collapse back against the bed with a soft groan his head landed between Jimin’s thighs. Jungkook eased his shirt off with gentle hands, Taehyung not so much cooperating as doing his best not to interfere.

Once it was obvious that Taehyung wasn’t going anywhere for a while, now staring naked and dazed up at the ceiling, Jimin kicked Jungkook’s knee gently, tipping his chin up with one of those smoldering looks that made Jungkook feel like his insides were going all mushy. “Get over here, yeah? He’ll come with when he can feel his feet again. See, this is why you work out a strategy before you have the threesome.”

Jungkook grumbled a little at that, clambering across the bed so he could bowl Jimin back against it. He laid himself out at Jimin’s side, still a little nervous about pinning him down, when he was so much narrower. Then he had to laugh, because Jimin grabbed him by the waist and hauled him bodily against his chest, one of Jimin’s thighs slotting between Jungkook’s and leaving him with very little choice but to grind his dick up against the height of Jimin’s hip with a weird, embarrassing breathy sound as his best friend pulled him down into a kiss.

While he hadn’t necessarily done it a ton, yet, Jungkook didn’t think he was ever going to get tired of kissing Jimin. His lips were full, but mobile, and he wasn’t afraid to use his sharp teeth, which Jungkook discovered when Jimin caught his lower lip between them and slowly let it escape, staring up at him from so close that it made Jungkook’s head spin as his mouth fell open against the tug of Jimin’s teeth. “Uh-”

He shifted his knees against the bedspread, trying not to be too obvious about how much this was all affecting him, because- Because he didn’t want them to think he was a kid. They were always going to be his hyungs, sure, but right at that moment Jungkook would have cheerfully sold his soul for, like. The ability not to turn into a leaky, shaking mess as soon as either of them touched him. That would be nice.

Jimin dragged his hands down Jungkook’s back, palming across the dense swell of his lats with an appreciative little hum that made Jungkook feel warm all over, and then suddenly he was on his back, staring up at Jimin’s cocky, shit-eating grin, and he couldn’t even be mad. Especially not when Jimin arched his back and fisted his fingers through his hair, panting softly and pretty as a picture. Fuck, but he was beautiful.

“Bro, you’re staring.” Jimin leaned in, grinning, to press a kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth as Jungkook crunched his face up and attempted to hide behind his hands. Because, well. He had been. Who wouldn’t.

Jimin grabbed his thumbs and wrestled his hands away from his face, then somehow ended up pinning them to the bed above Jungkook’s head, and- And Jungkook looked up, his eyes going wide as he stared up at the suddenly not-funny-at-all look on Jimin’s face, his eyes wide and his lips parted on a soft sound of surprise. Oh.

Jungkook wetted his lower lip before working at it with his teeth, dragging in a deep breath through his nose before he tipped his chin up and said, voice barely above a whisper, “Can you blame me?”

Jimin’s smile just broadened, lighting up his face like dawn, and he dragged himself up against Jungkook’s body so he could rub their noses together with a weird, adorable, kind of hum-y sigh. Although he also settled his arms to either side of Jungkook’s head, making him feel the slightest bit caged in, Jimin’s elbows just below his jaw and Jungkook’s thumbs still trapped in the firm grip of Jimin’s fingers, tucked into the messy fall of his hair. It made Jungkook’s chest feel kind of weird and tight as he sucked in a slow, shaky breath, and then Jimin brought their mouths together again.

“That is the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen. In my entire life. I may die.” Jungkook wasn’t entirely certain how long he and Jimin had been kissing when Taehyung spoke. Jimin had settled between his thighs at some point, and he realized vaguely that his lower lip was swollen, which seemed to argue for it having been a while, but he also hadn’t accidentally come in his underwear, so he figured that it probably hadn’t actually been that long.

It seemed natural enough to turn towards the sound of Taehyung’s voice, so he did, and accidentally did it in more or less perfect unison with Jimin, their cheeks brushing against each other as they stared at Taehyung. He had finally managed to climb entirely onto the bed and arrange himself on what looked like a fairly comfortable pillow fortress/recliner thing. He was laying on his side, resting his chin on the palm of his left hand, one of those slow, dreamy smiles stretching out his mouth and tugging the outside corners of his eyes down. He looked kind of perfect.

Jungkook couldn’t help the little soft sound of appreciation that caught in his throat, and he didn’t even have a chance to contemplate whether that would bother Jimin or not before Jimin’s grip was tightening on his thumbs and he was hiding his face against the side of Jungkook’s head. His breath seemed awfully loud in Jungkook’s ear as he groaned, grinding his dick against the smooth skin and defined muscles of Jungkook’s lower abs. “Fuck, you’re both so pretty. Hot? Gorgeous? I don’t even have fuckin’ words.”

That was enough to make Jungkook laugh, and after a few seconds he realized the other two were laughing as well. He turned his head, kissing the reckless height of Jimin’s cheekbone, and hooked a leg around Jimin’s thighs to hold him close, since he seemed to have no interest whatsoever in letting Jungkook use his arms at the moment.

When they’d all calmed down and were catching their breath, Jungkook nuzzled at the side of Jimin’s face until he relented, then pressed a few slow, gentle kisses to the plush fullness of Jimin’s mouth before he said, softly, “You’re not so bad yourself, hyung. You spend so much time around practically naked dancers that you forget that normal humans don’t look like statues of Greek gods.”

“He’s not wrong, Minnie. I can see, like. Every muscle in your body from here. It’s kind of both awesome and terrifying. I kind of want to lick them.” Jungkook smiled against Jimin’s mouth as his hyung shivered, then carefully eased his fingers free of Jimin’s grip so he could palm down the lean, defined planes of his back with gentle, reverent hands.

This time when they kissed it was slow, sweet, and Jungkook felt like he was trying to put every last bit of how he felt about Jimin — all the gratitude and affection, the want and tenderness — into it. He couldn’t tell if Jimin got it, but he did sigh softly and wound his fingers carefully through the hair behind Jungkook’s ears to cradle his head as best he could in his hands, which was… It was really nice.

Laying around making out with people had never exactly been one of Jungkook’s strong suits — or in fact really even a card in one of the suits he played regularly — but this… This felt good.

After another one of those interminable, hazy periods of mouths and breaths and soft, quiet sounds Jimin leaned up to press a kiss to the tip of Jungkook’s nose, which made him wrinkle it reflexively, his upper lip doing that weird fussy thing it did where it pulled up and made him look like an idiot. Or maybe a rodent. Jimin grinned and rolled his eyes, then rolled off of Jungkook so he could reach out and drag his fingers down the side of Taehyung’s face.

Even though Taehyung definitely had a chance to see Jimin’s movements, because he wasn’t trying to be especially sneaky about it, he still jumped, his eyes going wide for a split second. Then he hiccuped one of his warm, bright laughs and rubbed his face into the touch, the tip of his tongue just barely pressing against the center of his lower lip as his eyelashes kissed his cheeks. He was hard, again, and kind of casually stroking his dick with his right hand, more like he was just enjoying the way it felt than like he was trying to get anywhere.

Jungkook kind of wished that he could catch that image and tuck it inside his chest. He also wished that his dick was as cool with this slow, languid, dreamy whatever the fuck as he was, because now that Jimin wasn’t laying on him his stomach was kind of awkwardly tacky-feeling and cool and his shorts were… Disgusting. But as much as that was gross, it didn’t make his dick ache any less.

Grimacing, he lifted his hips off the bed so he could skin his boxer briefs down his legs. He wadded then up and scrubbed the pre-come off his stomach, pulling an embarrassed face when he realized that both of his hyungs were watching him. “Don’t mind me, I’m just gross,” he muttered, sending his underwear halfway across the room in his embarrassment.

Jimin rolled onto his stomach and reached out, rubbing his palm soothingly against the top of Jungkook’s thigh, and propped his chin on his other hand so he could offer his best friend a sweet smile. “There’s no way I could have done what you did to me, because, like. Geometry. But- But I think I could probably do what you did to Tae. Use my hands and my mouth, I mean.”

Jungkook whimpered. He wished that there were a different, less embarrassing word for the sound he made, but… No. That was definitely what he did. Taehyung started rearranging the pillows into a banked wall on the other side of the bed almost before Jimin was finished speaking. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork he settled against them, long legs sprawled out and one foot resting against Jimin’s hip, and gestured for Jungkook to join him, a broad, pleased smile lighting his face. “I get to be the backrest this time! Awesome!”

Jungkook crawled across the bed with a vaguely resigned expression twisting his mouth and settled against Taehyung’s body with a slightly nervy sigh. Big, warm hands rubbed at his ribs and stomach, making him squirm and gasp, and Taehyung’s low voice rumbled pleasantly in his ear as he murmured against the back of Jungkook’s earlobe, “Calm down, Kookie-ah. It’s fine. Trust me, someone getting off because you’re touching them is never something someone should complain about.”

It was impossible not to think of the nervous way Taehyung had touched him, that first night after the Bro party, and how adorably perplexed he’d looked, when Jungkook had asked him about his exes. About what he’d liked about being with them, and how Taehyung hadn’t known how to answer. He guessed he could kind of see his point, but- But he still could feel himself blushing as Jimin settled between his legs, knees tucked neatly underneath him.

Jimin’s smile as he reached out to palm up the insides of Jungkook’s thighs was warm, although the knowledge of what he — Park Jimin, his best friend, who he had been fantasizing about since before he really knew what it was he was dreaming of — was about to do made it impossible not to read the curve of his mouth as sensual. The way his eyes squeezed up at the corners looked, in this moment, seductive, and the expression on his face as his eyes settled on the heavy weight of Jungkook’s dick, hard against his stomach, took Jungkook’s breath away.

Jungkook had never really had that much cause to think about why everyone said he looked so good when he was on his knees, he had just always known that he did. But the way Jimin’s big, single-lidded eyes widened, his tongue tucking against the soft bow of his lower lip and his nostrils flaring slightly, like what he was seeing was the most appealing thing he’d ever encountered, was… Intoxicating.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat as he shifted, his shoulders pressing harder against the soft skin over bone of Taehyung’s chest for leverage to lift his hips into the careful, sliding push of Jimin’s hands on his hips. Taehyung breathed out an encouraging sound against the side of his neck and gave him a gentle squeeze, which made him feel oddly comforted even as Jimin tucked his tongue into the corner of his mouth and laced his fingers together and Jungkook realized that he was fucked.

He didn’t entirely understand why that worked so well for him, seeing Jimin’s pretty, delicate hands wrapped around his dick, but fuck. He winced as his hips jerked into Jimin’s careful upward stroke, and found that he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was too painfully aware of how difficult it could be for people to deal with how wide his dick was to want to put his hands in Jimin’s hair, but he desperately wanted to touch him, so after a moment’s hesitation he reached out and cupped Jimin’s cheek with his palm, hoping that his face looked less astonished than he felt. “You’re fuckin’ amazin’, Minnie-ah. I can barely believe you’re real, sometimes.” I can’t believe you want to be friends with a wreck like me.

The intensity of the bullshit stewing in his chest must have colored his voice, or he must have tensed up, or something, because Taehyung unwound one of his arms from around Jungkook’s middle to lace their fingers together, Taehyung’s longer fingers squeezing his palm in a way that made his breath catch. Then Jimin was stroking him, and his hips jerked again, and Jimin rubbed against his trembling fingers, eyes squeezing closed in an expression that looked almost like… Bliss? Before he murmured, soft and indistinct, “Let me try,” and licked up the underside of Jungkook’s cockhead with a so-soft, slow drag of his tongue, like he was a fucking scoop of ice cream.

Jungkook gasped and shivered under the soothing drag of Taehyung’s palm rubbing against his upper stomach, his eyes squeezing closed at the sensation and the fact that he didn’t know if he could deal with seeing his own pre-come on Jimin’s tongue without, like. Dying. Jimin just swallowed, the sound quiet but distinct even with the interference of Jungkook’s ragged gasps, and stroked Jungkook through a few slow, steady strokes, until he’d settled down to a more regular-seeming tremble, his hips shifting more naturally into the smooth, even pressure of Jimin’s hands.

He couldn’t seem to get his breathing to slow down, no matter how hard he tried. When Jimin smoothed his lips over the head of Jungkook’s cock, wet and smooth and soft, his tongue pressing up against the underside of his cockhead like that was the only logical place for it to be, the gasp that ripped its way free of his throat was like the first domino to fall. Or maybe the pebble that starts an avalanche, because as the sharp, mortifyingly distinct sound of his voice, ‘anh, anh, ah-’ rang out in the quiet of the room he barely had time to pull the hand that wasn’t squeezing Taehyung’s fingers mercilessly up to cover his face before he was coming, shaking with the intensity of it and kind of lowkey wishing that he could die.

Taehyung pulled his fingers free so that he could resume his back hug, both arms tugged close to Jungkook’s floating ribs, which left Jungkook free to bring both hands up to cover his face as he panted, trying to catch his breath and work up the courage to see what had happened simultaneously. It wasn’t going well. Not after the first time Jimin had touched him, when- When he’d almost come in his eye, for fuck’s sake. Something awful had happened, and Jimin was going to hate him, and he’d come so fast, like a fuckin’ nervous virgin, and-

Jimin’s wrestled his hands down, through a not inconsiderable amount of resistance, and pinned them to the pillows at Jungkook’s sides. “Yah, Kookie,” he said, leaning heavily on the rough, country-Gyeongnam saturi that always got thicker when he’d been talking with his cousins, and Jungkook’s eyes popped open without him remembering deciding to do it, already cringing as he looked up-

Into Jimin’s flushed, smiling face, no worse for wear. His lips were slick-looking and plush, but he didn’t even look annoyed, which was usually the facial expression that went with that tone.

Once Jungkook was looking up at him, Jimin leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his tension-thinned lips. He brought one hand up off the bed and petted it down the line of Jungkook’s jaw to urge it to relax, so he could lick a slow, deep, salt-bitter-tinged kiss into Jungkook's mouth. That was… That was a lot to deal with.

Jungkook couldn’t help but chase the taste of himself in Jimin’s mouth, so easily caught by the appeal of losing himself in their kiss. By the time Jimin settled back to watch him, eyes slightly narrowed but lips curled up at the corners, Jungkook almost didn’t want to spontaneously cease to exist when Jimin asked, voice very dry, “Are you over your freak out, yet? That was hot, you’re hot, and I kind of want to do it again. And again. Kookie-ah, I could watch you come forever.”

Taehyung hugged him hard enough that Jungkook felt a little bit squished, not that he minded, and then kissed the side of Jungkook’s neck softly, his lips just parted enough that Jungkook’s skin felt cool when his lips moved so he could speak. “If it makes you feel better, the first time Areum stuck her hand in my pants I came, and then I had to explain what had happened.”

“I made Taehyung spit in my hand so I could jack off thinking about you coming in your shorts,” Jimin said, beaming unrepentantly at Jungkook’s choked laugh. Then he tugged Jungkook’s legs together so he could just lay down on him entirely, his dick settling against the crease of Jungkook’s hip and thigh as he pressed a kiss to the strong sweep of Jungkook’s collarbone.

In the rearrangement Taehyung had stopped hugging Jungkook, which would have made him a little sad if it weren’t for the naked Jimin blanket. Taehyung took advantage of his newfound freedom to pull Jimin up for a kiss, his long fingers dug through the thick mess of Jimin’s hair. Jungkook was kind of sad he couldn’t see them, but also super into listening to all of those soft, pleased, slick sounds right next to his ear and feeling their bodies shifting up against his.

When they parted, breathing slightly harder than they had been before they kissed, Jungkook gave himself a little shake and palmed down Jimin’s back, smiling when it made him arch his back and rock his dick up against Jungkook’s hip. He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Jimin’s kiss-swollen mouth and asked, “So whattaya wanna do with that, hyung? Since you’re the one who seems to have all the ideas tonight.”

If he hadn’t known better, Jungkook would have sworn that Jimin was embarrassed. His lips compressed a little, and he reached up to pet Jungkook’s hair back off his forehead with that weirdly intent avoidance-bothering look that he got, sometimes. “I, uh…”

When his blush had intensified to the point where it looked physically unpleasant Jungkook reached up and cupped the soft curves of his best friend’s face in his hands, wincing a little at the heat of his skin, and leaned up for another soft kiss. “It’s okay, Jimin. Unless, like. Food is involved. Food is never as good an idea in sex as you think it is.”

That made Jimin snicker, his eyes squinting closed and his nose wrinkling, and Jungkook felt the corners of his mouth turning up in answer. It was really hard not to smile, when Jimin smiled. But when he stopped he looked past Jungkook’s head at Taehyung for a long and kind of confusing moment, then pinned Jungkook with his level gaze as he admitted, voice husky and soft, “I really- I wanna know what it’s like, being inside you, Kookie-ah.”

Jungkook’s dick twitched, pressed up against Jimin’s stomach, and Jungkook was too busy freezing in embarrassment to hold Jimin’s hiccup of disbelieving laughter against him. Once Jimin had calmed down he shifted his hips deliberately, until his dick was caught up against Jungkook’s between their bodies, and then did one of those slow-motion body rolls that looked so amazing when he did them at practice. It turned out that it was only like eight million times hotter when he was doing it on top of you. Good to know.

Jimin looked down, somewhere in the direction of Jungkook’s collarbones, then looked up at him through his short, thick lashes and grinned, one corner of his mouth turning up like smoke. “Well, that’s one vote yes. What say you, Marginally Bigger Jungkook?”

Then it was Jungkook’s turn to laugh like an asshole, tugging Jimin’s head down with one hand palmed across the back of his skull so he could laugh into his hair. “Oh, oh fuck. Fuck you. That was fucking hilarious.”

Laughing made him feel as is if a dam had burst, letting what felt like all of the tension out of his body. When he relaxed and let his head fall back against Taehyung’s shoulder (Taehyung kissed his ear, which tickled) he felt a lot better. He blinked his eyes open and grinned at Jimin, for once not even caring that it was big and goofy and dumb, and breathed out, like he still couldn’t quite believe he was saying it, “Yeah, hyung. Yeah. I’d like that.”

Taehyung wiggled, a little, and when he said “You owe me ten thousand won, Minnie,” Jungkook was so confused that he had to upset the whole naked cuddle pile so he could turn around to frown down at Taehyung suspiciously.

He didn’t think that Taehyung would… Actually, he couldn’t even really imagine it occurring to Taehyung to bet about something like that, after what had happened last Sunday. But Taehyung didn’t look embarrassed or guilty, as Jungkook pinned him with his maybe-hurt, maybe-upset glower. He just explained, stretching his hands above his head and arching his back as he pointed his toes, like the world’s longest cat, “Minnie-ah and I thought it might- That it might be easier, if we didn’t do anything, you know. Super crazy. I bet him ten thousand won that we’d end up needing something out of the Weird Sex Boxes anyway. I win.”

That made sense. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grumbled a little, then knee-walked across the bed so he could move everything off the green box and pop it open. He pulled out a different bottle of silicone lube, a strip of both the purple and white and black and gold condoms, and a handful of nitrile gloves. If they didn’t need them now, he kind of figured (hoped?) that they’d use them in the morning, since Jimin had cracked and allowed Jungkook to provide him with appropriate bribes to get Jihyun to agree to open the convenience store on Saturday mornings for the rest of the semester.

While he was fidgeting with the Weird Sex Stuff box Jimin went and got some water out of the mini-fridge in the corner of his room. He handed a cold one to Taehyung, who opened it and took a drink, then took a drink of his own room temperature bottle before setting it next to the assorted sex paraphernalia on the bedside table and clambering back onto the bed.

Jungkook let Taehyung hand him the open cold water and took a sip, then closed it and sat it next to Jimin’s on the red box. He detached one of the purple and white condoms from the strip and carried it and a few nitrile gloves and the bottle of lube with him to sit in the middle of the bed. Taehyung threw a few pillows at him, and he grinned as he stacked them up into another low wedge and laid himself out on them, his hips higher than his shoulders. He put his feet flat on the bed, his knees up, and wiggled a little until his ass was right at the edge of the pillow underneath him.

Jimin sat next to his waist, bouncing a little bit like he always did on Jungkook’s beds, just to enjoy the novelty of it, and Jungkook wrinkled his nose a little as he blinked up at him. “You’re gonna have kind of a problem doing it from over there.”

Then he paused and bit his lip, working at the edge of it with his teeth before he asked, feeling heat suffuse his cheeks, “Or do you, uh. Or do you want me to do it?”

Jimin just smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, and when their lips parted Jungkook realized that Taehyung was sitting between his spread legs and smiling that perfect, wonderful, goofy fucking grin of his, broad and relaxed and breathtaking. That was when he realized that he’d been Managed again.

“I figured that Tae should do it, since he’s got those goddamn hands. I’m at an unreasonable disadvantage in the finger-fucking department.” Jimin didn’t sound unhappy about it, and was in fact smiling as he reached his hand up and let Taehyung press their palms together to emphasize the fact that he had more than a full joint of reach on Jimin. It was… An arresting visual.

Jungkook groaned again and covered his eyes with his hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “You two are the worst.”

He couldn’t help remembering, with a clarity of feeling that made him squirm, how good it had felt when Taehyung had touched him. So, like. Yeah. Maybe not the most displeasing thing ever.

But then Jimin was tugging his hand down, wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s thumb in a way that was rapidly coming to feel weirdly special, like something just for the two of them. He settled his body up against Jungkook’s side, one arm resting against Jungkook’s chest for balance, and grinned down at him, his voice reassuring but take-no-shit. “Yah, Kookie-ah. No freaking out. Just feeling good. That’s the rule. We’re gonna kiss, Tae’s gonna do his thing, you’re gonna enjoy yourself, then we’ll go from there. Cool?”

When Jungkook looked down at Taehyung, aware that he was blushing, Taehyung was turning one of the black gloves over in his hands, and his expression as he tipped an off-center, close-mouthed smile at Jungkook was a little… Reserved? Anxious? Whatever, it was very much him. But when he spoke, asking “Green?” in a quiet voice, it sounded more like he was worried about Jungkook than he was having any personal kind of trouble.

Jungkook’s initial instinct was to reply ‘Green’ immediately, because- Because that was how he’d always wanted people to see him, before. Always cool, up for anything, attractive and composed and not desperate for any kind of positive attention he could find. The Sex Demon, basically. But what had Taehyung said? I didn’t agree to have a sleepover with the Sex Demon, I agreed to have a sleepover with Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t really know how to do that, but… The least he could do was try.

He caught himself with the first syllable pressed in the back of his throat and considered what had happened the last time he tried to pull The Sex Demon when he was with Taehyung and grimaced. Then he forced himself to actually think about it, and be honest.

It, quite frankly, sucked. “Green...ish? Mostly green? I just. I’m kind of fucking embarrassed. I feel like I’m more into this than I should be? I just. I don’t know. It’s like there’s snakes in my guts and there are eight million things that I want to be doing all at once but I also kind of want to go hide in the bathroom.”

Taehyung’s expression was… Compassionate, and understanding, and Jungkook realized with a lurch that maybe this was what Taehyung felt like all the time. Well, probably not the slutty parts, but the way his skin felt like it was on too tight and his bones wanted to bust out and go running away into the night. That part. Taehyung's hands were warm, too, when he rubbed them down Jungkook’s shins, and his voice was soft, as he tipped another little almost-smile off the corner of his mouth and said, “I get it, Kookie-ah. But- But I’m pretty sure there’s no way that you’re more into this than I am. Or Minnie-ah. You just know more of what we could do, so your mental theater is more distracting.”

Jimin hummed an affirmative noise and pressed another of those soft, slightly open kisses to Jungkook’s cheek that made his whole body sing in answer. Then he tugged Jungkook’s hand down to palm against his dick, and that was plenty fucking distracting. “Kookie-ah, I just- I just want to get to know all of you. All of you. So you don’t have to feel weird, or bad. Don’t try to be what you think we want, yeah? Just be yourself. Do what you want to do. You don’t have to put on a show. I promise.”

For a brief moment, it was like Jungkook was sitting next to himself, watching the words come out of his mouth and recoiling in horror even as he said them, but powerless to prevent it. “I don’t even know what I want.”

Jimin caught his hand when it was halfway to his face, pressing it flat against his solar plexus instead, and Taehyung just asked, nothing like amusement or judgment or any of the other things Jungkook was desperately afraid of hearing in it, “Do you want me to touch you?”

Jungkook nodded, chewing hard enough on the inside of his lower lip that it stung, and tried to smooth his expression so he didn’t look so freaked out. At least he wasn’t crying again. That was a small mercy, at least. Fuck, he was such a-

“Hey, Kookie-ah. Look at me.” Jimin’s voice was soft, but Jungkook could no more have ignored his request than he could have lifted his mattress and carried it around on his shoulders. (He’d tried, and it had not gone well.)

Jimin looked- Jimin looked a little sad, but his smile was soft and fond and made Jungkook’s heart feel like it was too big for his chest, as his best friend leaned in and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he leaned back he brought his hand up to smooth the furrow from Jungkook’s brow with the side of his thumb, and Jungkook leaned into the touch with a small, grateful sigh.

When Jimin stopped petting at him like he was a nervous cat — Jimin had this kind of freaky ability to turn cats that hated everybody into happy, purring piles of fluff, and Jungkook didn’t understand it at all. He was more of a dog person. — Jungkook blinked his eyes open just in time for Jimin to ask him, watching his face carefully, “Do you want- Do you want to do this? For me to, um. Do you want me to fuck you? Because it’s totally okay, if you don’t. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t totally comfortable with.”

The way Jimin stumbled over his words and blushed, hot and red, when he said the word ‘fuck’ was just. Jungkook realized that he was smiling, goofy and awkward and all the rest, and he reached up his hand to cradle Jimin’s cheek so he could tug his hyung down for the kiss that he deserved, warm and open and without reservation.

Finally, when Jungkook had to lean back to catch a breath, his nose all stuffy-feeling for no good fucking reason, he said, realizing that it was his turn to search Jimin’s face for stress or hesitation, “I- Yeah, hyung. I really, really want you to.” I’ve wanted you to for way longer than you probably want to think about.

If Jungkook didn’t know better he’d have thought that Jimin looked relieved, when he didn’t say it in so many words, the hot flush of his cheeks fading out as he reached out and grabbed the bottle of lube from where it was sitting next to Jungkook’s hip and tossed it to Taehyung.

Or, rather, he tossed it at Taehyung. It bounced off the back of Taehyung’s hand and then he had to stretch out and grab it before it could roll out of reach on the bed. Everyone laughed, the relative levels of nervousness and/or embarrassment in their voices varying wildly, and then Taehyung snapped the glove onto his left hand and clicked the bottle open and suddenly Jungkook was very, very focused on the way the lube piled up, clear and perfect, like transparent toothpaste as Taehyung squeezed a dollop of it onto the upturned pads of his first two fingers.

When Taehyung paused and squinted a little, Jungkook blinked and murmured, realizing that his voice felt all husky and soft in his throat, “It’s, uh. It’s a different kind, than we used before, Tae. This stuff is thicker, it won’t slide around as much. You can use a little more than that, and it should be good.”

Taehyung glanced up at him, then squeezed a little more onto his fingers with his lower lip caught between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When Jungkook nodded that it was enough he clicked the bottle closed and sat it down behind him on the bed, then took a deep breath and let his right hand slide up the back of Jungkook’s left leg, pressing just hard enough not to be ticklish, as he asked, his voice kind of suspiciously breathy too, “Do you want me to start?”

Jungkook pressed his lips together and nodded, not trusting his voice. Taehyung leaned in and kissed the side of his knee as he dropped his hand to gentle over Jungkook’s skin. He somehow managed to get all of the lube where it was supposed to go without Jungkook feeling much of anything at all, which was impressive because Jungkook had always been kind of shit at lube management. It just sort of seemed to go everywhere and he’d decided last summer that as long as there was enough of it he didn’t give a fuck.

But when Taehyung braced his right hand at the top of Jungkook’s inner thigh and used his thumb to pull his asscheek a little farther out so he could see what he was doing better, his focus trained on his hands, it made Jungkook appreciate just how hot careful attention and competence could be. Then Taehyung pressed the pad of his thumb up against Jungkook’s asshole, firm enough that it made him arch his back and his dick twitch. Jimin pulled his head to the side, both hands coming up to tangle in his hair, and kissed him like he’d been born to do it.

Trying to keep up with that many things happening at once was disorienting. Jungkook was fairly certain, when Taehyung slipped the tip of his finger into him and started working the tension out of his muscles with slow, careful motions, that he pushed his tongue a little too far into Jimin’s mouth as he moaned because Jimin made a short little coughing sound and leaned back to bite his lip.

But it must not have been too serious, because by the time Taehyung had worked him open enough that the next inward press of his finger felt like a proper push that Jungkook couldn’t help but roll into with a soft, open sound, Jimin was licking against the backs of his front teeth. He dropped one hand to rub against the slightly sweaty, flushed skin of Jungkook’s upper chest in an unthinking, possessive sort of way that Jungkook leaned into with a soft, pleased noise. Jungkook tried to reach up to pet through Jimin’s hair with fingers that he was somewhat surprised to discover were trembling, only to have his hand gently pressed back into the bedspread above his head.

“Shh, Kookie-ah. Be a good maknae and let us take care of you, yeah?” Jungkook huffed a soft breath and nodded, his head feeling all wobbly and his heart pounding in his chest. Jimin’s mouth looked perfect, curled around a soft smile, and his hands were warm and comforting as he slid his fingers up under the back of Jungkook’s neck, tipping his head back as easy as anything.

He started rubbing his thumbs against the tense muscles where Jungkook’s neck met his jaw, methodically working the tension out of them in the same way he’d done hundreds of times before. Jimin had always taken charge of fixing Jungkook’s perpetually tight muscles, at dance hagwon and on their weekends spent hanging out in the convenience store, Jimin selling beer and ice and ramyeon to college students and Jungkook drawn as close as it could to him, like a lost camper huddling next to a fire in a snowstorm. It made Jungkook feel less tense, sure, but it also made him feel safe, and understood, and like- Like maybe just because they were doing this, the rest of their relationship didn’t have to change.

Jimin finally decided that his jaw was better and started working at his traps, thumbs digging uncompromisingly into the knots that plagued Jungkook constantly. Taehyung, apparently remembering how easily Jungkook had managed last time, chose that moment to bring his second finger into play. It burned, a little, but mostly just made Jungkook arch up, pushing with his feet so he could grind down onto Taehyung’s fingers.

The noise he made was resonant and borderline awkwardly loud in the quiet of the room, and when Jimin chuckled Jungkook realized a few things at once:

1. His eyes had been closed for long enough that he didn’t even have afterimages of the lights in his room anymore.
2. Jimin was no longer leaned up against him
3. Jimin was in fact sitting above his head, his thumbs dug into Jungkook’s traps hard enough that it made him want to cry.
4. That was super hot in a way that he didn’t really feel like thinking about further right now.
5. He was super, super spacey.
6. He really, really wanted to get fucked, the sooner the better.

When his head tilted back farther against the bedspread as he huffed out a deliberately deep breath and ground himself down onto the careful slide of Taehyung’s fingers Jimin laced his fingers at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, his thumbs settling against the divots behind the points of his jaw. Jungkook leaned into the cradle of his hands with a gasping, open-mouthed groan, his jaw staying relaxed and his mouth open as he panted, his fingers twisting in the sheet. He kind of wanted to open his eyes, to check to make sure that it looked like Jimin and Taehyung were okay, but-

But it was like someone had disengaged a safety in his head and suddenly he just didn’t give a fuck. Whether he looked nice or sounded appealing or whatever. It just. It wasn’t as important as how good he felt right at this moment, supported and relaxed and so turned on that it felt like there were coals in his muscles, slowly burning him up.

Taehyung hooked his fingers up towards Jungkook’s navel, and just like always, the first pressure up against his prostate made his toes flex and his abs clench, his dick jerking against his stomach. He slid his feet a little farther apart, raised in relevé by the tension in his calves, and gasped out, “Don’t move, hyung, don’t move-” as he leaned more of his weight against Jimin’s hands and his shoulders so he could lift his hips up just enough to roll them in small circles that rocked the interior curves of Taehyung’s first knuckles up against his prostate over and over again.

It. Felt. So. Good.

It felt so good, in fact, that at a certain point he kind of lost the ability to move, but thankfully Taehyung was an awesome bro and picked up where he left off when his legs gave out, keeping the same steady, rhythmic pressure going. Jungkook just rode it out, the so-distinctive catch in his voice steadily gaining in intensity as it built and built, heat pooling between his hips like a sun threatening to go supernova.

And then it did, and he came, the rolling waves of fuck yes fuck yes swamping his awareness of everything else for a long time. That was the other reason that Jungkook loved having things in his ass. By the time he was done he felt like he’d been wrung out like a wash rag, his legs collapsing out in a messy butterfly and his chest heaving. He worked his fingers free of the sheet with a little grimace as the high thread count cotton reluctantly disengaged with the furrows it had cut into the sides of his fingers.

Finally he managed to pull his mouth closed so that he could swallow, belatedly realizing that his mouth was really dry. He shifted his shoulders, a little, before rasping out, feeling numb and dumb and overwhelmingly content, “Fuck.”

Jimin shifted his hands, which made Jungkook’s mouth fall open again, and he was too tired to close it. So he just panted, slower now, as Jimin eased his hair off his sweaty forehead with careful fingers. When his hyung spoke, grinding out, “Fuckin’ Christ,” the rough awe in his voice made Jungkook pull his eyes open, so he could see the intense look on his best friend’s face. Jimin looked like he’d seen, like. The sexiest ghost in the whole world, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

Then Taehyung made a small, uncomfortable noise, and when Jungkook tipped his chin down so he could stare up at him he looked, if anything, even more affected than Jimin. Which, fair. His lower lip looked like he’d bitten it so hard it almost bled, and he was sitting like it wasn’t quite comfortable, the crest of his hip where the head of his dick was resting suspiciously slick looking. And his fingers were still inside Jungkook, which made Jungkook twitch a little when he remembered. Jungkook started to reach out for Taehyung, to brush his hair out of his eyes, and stopped to stare at his hand, which was shaking hard enough that he didn’t think he’d be able to write his own name.

“Huh. What the fuck.” Jungkook frowned at his hand, which cheerfully continued to tremble despite him trying to get it to stop.

Jimin made a small, amused noise and asked, his voice all hushed and low, “When’s the last time you ate, Jungkook?”

Jungkook let his hand fall onto his stomach and then immediately grimaced and pulled it back with a fussy, grossed-out noise. “Oh, fuck. Uh… After school? I had a triangle kimbap and some Hot6.”

He held his arm awkwardly, not really sure what he should do about it since it kind of felt like he wasn’t going to be able to hold it up much longer, but now the side of his hand and wrist were kind of all over jizz, which. Gross. His head felt like it was full of cotton batting, and he both didn’t want to and wasn’t entirely certain he could move, so he just… Stared at it, like it was somehow going to clean itself, and made a small, unhappy noise at the back of his throat.

Then, thankfully, a hand appeared (he realized after a very confusing second that it was Jimin’s) bearing a wet wipe and cleaned off his hand, so he could drop it back onto the sheet. It then cleaned the come off his stomach and ribs, which tickled and made him squirm a little. Taehyung hiccuped a little noise when his hips moved, and Jungkook mumbled something that he was pretty sure he meant to be an apology.

Jimin kissed his forehead and then the bed was moving, and he felt a little dizzy, so he closed his eyes. From the nice red-blackness he heard Jimin explain, sounding long-suffering, “He forgets to eat when he's nervous, and gets really fucking dumb when he's hypoglycemic. And he almost never drinks caffeine, so his brain’s probably freaking the fuck out right now. I bet if we make him eat a protein bar and give him some water he’ll be fine.”

Jungkook grumbled, “I’m right here, you know,” and thought about doing something to show he was fine, but instead he just sort of… Laid there and kept breathing. That was nice.

When Jimin bounced onto the bed, the sound of the wrapper on the protein bar already crinkling, Taehyung started to move his hand, and Jungkook made a mortifyingly pitiful sound. This thankfully made Taehyung stop moving, and once Jimin had lifted Jungkook’s head into his lap so he could sip at the new, icy-cold bottle of water as he dutifully started demolishing his protein bar — which tasted vaguely of vanilla and mostly like whey powder and sadness — he gave Taehyung a sheepish, hopeful look. He went to talk, got a bit of protein bar caught in his throat, and took a few swallows of water with a grumpy frown before managing to say, trying his best to look not-dead and hopeful, “You can, uh. You can keep going. I am still invested. Apparently incapable of keeping myself functioning, but super into this.”

Taehyung unmistakably looked at Jimin for confirmation of this, which Jungkook found kind of unfair, but, well. Jimin was better at keeping up with his body than he was, and kind of always had been. He could calculate protein intake like a badass, but he did sometimes forget to eat when he got nervous. And he’d been hella nervous since, oh. Wednesday.

Jimin curled his fingers through Jungkook’s hair and said, sounding like he was smiling, “He’s not kidding, give him like ten minutes and he’ll be fine. He used to do this all the time. Passed out in dance class once and fell flat on his face. It was amazing. The teacher almost called 119.”

“I was thirteen!” Jungkook said through a mouthful of protein bar, then almost choked again and had to finish the bottle of water to get the last of the stupid thing washed down. If he ever found a company that made decent protein bars that weren’t like fragmentation grenades full of sawdust and weird nasty little crispy crunchy things, he was going to buy as much stock in it as he could. But, well. He was pretty invested in looking the way he did, and sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

Jimin took his trash and disappeared again, leaving him to smile apologetically up at Taehyung, who just seemed vaguely amused, the corners of his mouth turned up and warmth crinkling the outer corners of his eyes. When Jungkook felt less like the world was spinning he managed to get himself pushed up on his hands so he could tip his chin up and ask, still too wobbly to worry overmuch about how he might look, or sound, “Hyung, gimme a kiss?”

For a second Jungkook was worried that Taehyung was going to roll his eyes, but instead, after blinking owlishly a few times, his face cracked into a broad, bright grin and he leaned forward, reaching out with his right hand to hold Jungkook’s face steady. The kiss started soft, careful, like Taehyung wasn’t quite sure if Jungkook was up to it yet. But when Jungkook brought his right hand up to palm Taehyung’s jaw Taehyung let his mouth relax enough that Jungkook could trace the soft inner border of his full lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

By the time Taehyung pulled his fingers almost entirely free of Jungkook’s body and then slid them back in again, slick and smooth and easy, they’d been kissing long enough that Jungkook’s lips throbbed pleasantly and he felt substantially less like his head was a balloon attached to his body with a string. But he wasn’t so with it that he didn’t have to grab onto Taehyung’s shoulder to keep from falling, his abs and thighs quivering at the awkward position.

Jimin laughed softly from behind him and eased Jungkook back against the bed. Taehyung quirked a spit-glossed smile at them as he scissored his fingers apart. Jungkook’s breath left his body all in a rush, and it seemed like no time at all before Taehyung was crossing his ring finger under and twisting all three of them into him, and- Fuck.

“Fuck, that feels good.” Even though he didn’t feel anywhere near as much like he was about to sublimate into fog and blow away, Jungkook realized, right about the time that he was reaching up to press his thumbs into Jimin’s palms for leverage to grind down onto Taehyung’s fingers that apparently his ability to give a fuck had not returned. Sweet.

He kind of blissed out on the slick, stretchy burn of Taehyung’s fingers working in him for a while. It was super, super nice, and as his blood sugar or whatever bounced back he realized that right the fuck now was when he wanted to get fucked. He tucked his thumbs against his palms, wrapping his fingers across the backs of Jimin’s fists so he could squeeze his hands, and looked up at him, open-mouthed and panting and feeling fucking glorious. He said, a big, stupid smile stretching his mouth, “Hyung, hyung. Figure out where the fuck the condom went, or go get another one. I want you in me, like. Five minutes ago.”

Jimin blinked at him for a moment, then wet his lips and said, his voice kind of choked, “Jungkook-ah, I can’t- I can’t do that unless you give me my hands back.”

Jungkook wasn’t entirely certain why that was the funniest thing that had ever been said, but as he unwound his hands from Jimin’s he found himself laughing that big, cackling belly laugh that he usually hated. Then the fact that he was laughing was funny, and made him laugh harder, until he ended up having to press his hands to his face just so he could get his shit back together.

When he finally stopped laughing and could catch his breath he pressed the tops of his palms to his eye sockets and cracked an enormous yawn, then looked around a little nervously, to make sure that Jimin hadn’t, like. Disappeared while he was otherwise occupied. Not that he wouldn’t be cool with Taehyung fucking him, but, well. He really, really wanted to know what it was going to be like, having Jimin inside him like that.

It’d been Jimin he was thinking of the first time he slid a nervous finger inside himself, leaned up against the wall of his shower and using fucking conditioner of all things. The outline of Jimin’s hard on in his track pants during dance practice he’d been trying to picture when he bought his first dildo. He wasn’t worried about reality not living up to the fantasy so much as completely unable to believe that this was real.

He spotted Jimin just in time to see him pounce with a literal “Ah-HA!” on the condom wrapper, which had somehow ended up all the way over in the bank of pillows. Jimin spun around on his knees, holding the stupid thing between his index and middle fingers, and bounced back over to them with an enormous grin on his face. The force of it called answering smiles from Jungkook and Taehyung, because it was impossible not to smile back, when Jimin looked at you like that.

“You don’t mind, do you Tae?” Jimin asked, and it was interesting for Jungkook to actually see one of their weird Chingu Psychic Communication stares, to watch the way little suggestions of expressions flicked across their faces. But then Taehyung was smirking, lopsided and close-mouthed, and leaning up to press a soft, open kiss to Jimin’s mouth as he rubbed the pads of his fingers up against Jungkook’s prostate one last time and let his hand slip free.

Even if it were just the kiss — which made his head feel a little spinny all over again, at the way their mouths fit together, at the contrast of their skin tones, golden and gold-brown, at the way Jimin’s shoulder all but disappeared into the clutch of Taehyung’s free hand — or just the sudden, miserable aching emptiness, he would probably have made a noise. But when they happened together he ended up mewling, like an enormously oversized and very distraught kitten or some shit. Before he had a chance to do much more than pet at their waists, so helpfully close together over his hip, they came apart again, and Taehyung twisted around to grab the lube from the bedspread behind him.

He winked at Jungkook — fuckin’ winked — and said, “Too much lube is just enough, yeah?” Then he asked Jimin, all casual-like, “Do you know how to put that on, or do you want help?”

Jimin’s face was stricken, for just a moment, before he coughed and looked down. Jungkook reached out and caught Jimin’s hand, easing the condom out from between his fingers, and beamed up at Jimin’s flushed face. “Here, hyung. Let me help.”

He tore the packet open easily and hooked the little latex disc out with the tip of his index finger, reaching out to drop the empty package far enough away that they wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally rolling on it or anything. He’d gotten the most embarrassing papercut of his entire life that way on his knee, once, and he definitely didn’t want anything that banal and stupid messing this up.

It wasn’t that he wanted it to be perfect — because he knew that perfection in all its forms, like perfect performances and perfect happiness, didn’t exist — but he wanted to make sure that nothing exceptionally, preventably stupid happened. Since he could actually see he caught the reservoir tip between his fingers and stuck his right hand out at Taehyung. “Like, the smallest amount of lube you can, please.”

Taehyung snickered softly and did an impressive job, managing to get a pea-sized amount right in the middle of Jungkook’s palm. Jimin’s eyebrows squinched together a little and he started to ask, sounding uncertain, “Won’t we need mo-” when Jungkook wrapped his hand around Jimin’s dick and gave him a few firm, twisting strokes to get the so slick silicone everywhere it needed to go.

Jimin was so hard that Jungkook could feel his pulse in the big vein on the underside of his dick, and it made something in Jungkook’s stomach turn over, touching him like this. He honestly didn’t know if he’d ever be able to touch Jimin without feeling giddy, like he was getting away with something. The way Jimin’s hips jerked into his touch was kind of awesome, too. His eyebrows tipped up, making him look kind of surprised, and the petal-pink soft of his lips parted on a breathy little noise that Jungkook wanted to hear over and over, forever.

Once the lube was where it needed to be he forced himself to stop and he wiped the lingering excess off against his thigh. Then he reached up with his left hand, the condom still carefully pinched between his fingers, up so he could carefully roll it on. At some point he kind of wanted to see what it was like without, skin on skin, but definitely not without way more prep than they’d had time for tonight. Nuh uh. Eugh.

Jungkook was pretty good at keeping track of those things, since he'd been doing this by himself at least two or three times a week for over a year, but… No.

Taehyung, bless him, squeezed a much more generous amount of lube across the palm of the nitrile glove that he was still wearing and wrapped his hand around Jimin’s dick, pressing a smacking kiss to the shorter boy’s temple as he whined and arched his back. He seemed to get that it was a ‘less is more’ situation with the touching, and just made sure everything was nice and slick before he sort of somersaulted sideways past Jungkook’s leg so he could pull the glove off and drop it in the trash. He even threw away the empty condom wrapper before climbing back onto the bed and taking up the position Jimin had had earlier above Jungkook’s head. Taehyung was awesome.

Once Jimin had completed the position swap he settled back onto his heels and hesitated for a second, then rubbed his hands up the backs of Jungkook’s sprawled thighs as he twisted his lower lip through his teeth and asked, sounding slightly worried and light years away from the tone he’d normally have used when casting aspersions on Jungkook’s flexibility, “How far do you think you can get your legs up, Kookie-ah?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and hooked his legs over Jimin’s shoulders, then crossed his ankles behind Jimin’s neck so he could pull him down until he was close enough to lean up and kiss. When he let Jimin settle back his best friend looked a little stunned, and Jungkook couldn’t help but grin, feeling kind of pleased with himself. “I might not be able to fold myself in half, hyung, but I’m not exactly hopeless.”

Jimin ran his hands down the outsides of Jungkook’s thighs, thumbs digging into his skin just the slightest bit as he traced out the definition of his quads. When he reached Jungkook’s hips he hesitated for a moment, then licked his lips as he asked, looking up at Jungkook through his lashes, “Should I- Uh. Do I just-”

Jungkook’s smile was slow and fond as he slid his right leg off Jimin’s shoulder, letting it sprawl out on the bed, so he could reach down and grab his dick. “Here, hyung. You’re going to have to do most of the work, if you want my legs up like this, but you just…” He wrinkled his nose as he concentrated, then let his breath out nice and slow as he felt the slick head of Jimin’s dick bump up against him. He was so fucking ready for this. Fuck.

He moved his hand up, dragging the lube his fingers had picked up across his abs, and hooked his knee back against Jimin’s shoulder as he tipped his chin up and breathed out, vaguely aware but thoroughly lacking in fucks to give about how much of a slut he sounded like, “You’ve just gotta push, and you’ll be in me. I really, really want you in me, hyung.”

When Jimin took a big, slow breath, Jungkook realized that he was mirroring him, his eyes riveted to Jimin’s face. His eyebrows were the slightest bit furrowed, drawn together in concentration, and he had his lower lip caught between his teeth as he rubbed the flats of his palms up Jungkook’s legs again, moving like he almost didn’t even realize what he was doing.

Jungkook had been exactly where Jimin was often enough that he knew exactly what he was looking at with his eyes downcast like that. The knowledge that Jimin was staring at his dick pressed up against the lube-slick, dusky-pink of Jungkook’s hole like he was trying to memorize every second of it was just- Jungkook took another deep breath, not even really sure what emotion it was that was making his chest feel tight, and lifted his right hand up to gentle Jimin’s hair out of his eyes as he said, too soft to be a whine but too pleading to be a sigh, “Please, Minnie-ah. I want you to.”

The deep breath that Jimin dragged in then was enough to make Jungkook’s legs shift, a little. Jimin nodded, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he rubbed into the pressure of Jungkook’s fingers against his cheekbone and temple, then licked his lips and tipped a slightly dazed smile up at Jungkook’s face. “Yeah, yeah-” he said, eyes dropping back down as if pulled by magnets, and then.

And then Jimin’s breath caught, because he was using his abs almost more than the larger muscles of his hips and thighs to press himself forward, so slowly, so carefully, that Jungkook could feel his body parting for him almost as clearly as if he were watching, too. He realized that he was panting — not because it hurt, because it didn’t, it felt good — and the tightness in his chest had traveled, or spread, or something, because something was caught in his throat and he couldn’t breathe through his nose, and- fuck. Apparently that wasn’t just a one-time thing.

When he brought up his hand to try and heel the tingling feeling out of his eyes he couldn’t really tell if it had worked or not, but he realized that he felt kind of at a loss for what to do with his hands. He didn’t want to distract Jimin but he felt all… He felt warm, and a little bit like his skin wasn’t quite big enough to contain everything that he was feeling, and he just- He wanted the reassurance of touch.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, feeling restless and uncertain, and then Taehyung caught his hand up, tucking their thumbs together so he could squeeze Jungkook’s palm, and Jungkook let his hand fall to the bedspread above his head. He tipped his head up so he could smile at Taehyung, big and broad and open-mouthed and so grateful, and had a second to appreciate how overwhelmingly kind the smile that lit his hyung’s face was before the head of Jimin’s cock finally eased past the last tight band of muscle, the flared lip of his cockhead slipping suddenly forward and making Jungkook’s entire body shiver, like he’d been rung like a bell.

He blinked down at Jimin, stunned, only to be met by an almost-equally bewildered expression on his best friend’s face. He started to tug Jimin in for a kiss, then made a little irritated #goddammitlegday noise and slid his legs off Jimin’s shoulders so he could tug him down more easily, hooking his ankles behind the small of Jimin’s back instead.

When their lips came together it felt- It felt like something elemental, like a joint sliding back into place, like the world suddenly making a little more sense. He hiccuped a little breath against Jimin’s sudden smile, his own lips curling up at the edges, and then caught the side of his best friend’s face more fully with his hand so that he could just… Lose himself in it.

Either he was still kind of out of it, or he was more emotionally compromised than he’d realized he was. When Jimin arched his back and pushed himself another slow, rolling thrust into Jungkook’s body and Jungkook’s head fell back so his shoulders could dig into the bed for leverage, he realized that Taehyung had rearranged himself again.

The delicate bones of Taehyung’s crossed ankles were in just the right spot to support the back of Jungkook’s neck as he settled back against the bed, which was very pleasant. Their linked hands had, at some point, been moved up onto the warm skin of Taehyung’s thigh. It made Jungkook feel- It made him feel like he was being held up, cared for. Like everything was going to be okay, even though his entire body was a riot of arousal and confusion and messy emotions and shit he didn’t even have words for.

It was good.

Jungkook gasped against Jimin’s mouth, giving up on trying to breathe through his nose entirely. He slid his fingers back from Jimin’s jaw to let them tangle in the dark mess of Jimin’s hair as he cupped the back of his best friend’s skull in the broad curve of his palm. It let him keep their faces close as he tipped his chin up a little, unable and unwilling to quash the little, moaning catch in his panted breaths.

When he’d caught his breath enough to feel a little brave Jungkook arched his back just enough to settle fractionally farther onto Jimin’s cock. His face scrunched up a little as he hiccuped a soft sound, his teeth glancing off the soft swell of Jimin’s lower lip as he dragged his own through his teeth. When he spoke he could tell that his voice was wrecked, but for once he just didn’t care, only hoped that the breathy rasp and break of it helped convey just how much he meant it. “You feel so good inside me, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin made a soft sound against his mouth, low and ragged, as he eased his hips the rest of the way forward. Their sweat-damp skins settled against each other in a way that made Jungkook shiver, his knees tightening against Jimin’s ribs and his eyes burning. Jimin pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, full lips tugging the slightest bit at the abused swell of his lower lip, then did it again as he ground his hips forward.

The sharp bones of his pelvis dug against the muscles of Jungkook’s ass in a way that made his dick twitch and his voice break on another high, soft sound. Everything was too much: he felt too much, he wanted too much, he needed too much, he always had, but-

But the way Jimin was holding him, forearms pressed between Taehyung’s shins and Jungkook’s shoulders so he could cradle the back of Jungkook’s head in his fingers, the heels of his palms warm in the soft spaces behind Jungkook’s ears, the way he kissed him, like he was afraid to stop, mouth trembling and nothing at all like the easy, pretty kisses they’d traded at Bro Parties for forever, made him hope, with a jolt that jarred a rough, wet sound out of his throat, that maybe Jimin thought he was enough, instead.

The noise betrayed him, or maybe the convulsive lift of his chest that accompanied it, and Jimin’s head came up, worry coloring his expression as he hissed through his teeth and brought his hands around to ease them gently against the edges of Jungkook’s eyes. “Shh, shh,” he murmured, voice soft, like he meant it just for Jungkook. He pressed another kiss to Jungkook’s mouth before he could wince or turn away.

The words he pressed into Jungkook’s lips, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” felt like a balm, a salve. They eased a hurt in his chest that he’d only just had pointed out to him, and the sudden surcease of pain felt a little bit like falling.

When Jimin shifted his hips back Jungkook couldn’t help the rough, broken-sounding whimper that crawled out of his mouth, tipping his head back against Taehyung’s legs and making him squeeze his hand tighter. The ugly sound sublimated into a thready gasp when the flared crown of Jimin’s cockhead, so much more defined than Taehyung’s, caught against him, and when he pushed back in, his breath a warm rush against the underside of Jungkook’s lower lip, their noses pressed together and Jimin’s fingers clutching at the sides of his head like you’d cradle something delicate and precious, the noise that rang through the room was unmistakably a moan.

It was hard to tell at first if the noise Jimin made as he ground his hips up against Jungkook’s again was a laugh or a groan. When he pulled Jungkook’s lower lip between his own for a second before leaning in to murmur against his ear, “I bet you can do better than that, Mr. A-Rating Vocal Performance Major,” Jungkook realized that it was a laugh, and tears and uncontrollable maelstrom of emotion or no, he was laughing too.

“Bet you can’t make me, Mr. Number One Student In The Dance Department.” It occurred to Jungkook, as Jimin licked into his mouth and rolled his whole body in a way that did absolutely unspeakable things to his insides, that sometimes he really needed to think, before he let his mouth say things like that.

Jungkook should have remembered that recent loss of virginity or no, Jimin had been his best friend since before he’d actually figured out how sex actually worked, and he’d been aggressively sharing tidbits he’d found on the Internet with him for years. Coupled with how amazingly, ludicrously talented Jimin was with his body, Jungkook really should have known better. But no. He’d had to open his big dumb mouth.

Jimin’s hands settled into his hair again as he shifted his arms up higher on Taehyung’s calves for leverage. The two of them shared a slightly confusing, from Jungkook’s angle of view, but very pleasant-sounding kiss before Jimin looked back down at Jungkook and pursed his lips a tiny bit, eyebrows raised and jaw tense. “Yah, Kookie-ah. Don’t make bets you know you’re gonna lose.”

It was a mystery to Jungkook how Jimin had figured out how weak the country saturi he’d learned from his cousins made him, but fuck. The rough bite of his voice made Jungkook squirm a little, and when Jimin caught his free hand and lifted it up for Taehyung to take hold of, so that Jungkook abruptly had no hands at all, he didn’t really know what to do other than take a deep breath and just let it happen.

The first thing Jimin did was roll his hips under so that when he pulled out of Jungkook the head of his cock pulled right up against his prostate, which was just grossly unfair. Jungkook twitched and gasped, like always, and was trying to prepare himself for the next wave of that confusing, glorious, sun-in-your-belly feeling when abruptly he was empty and he couldn’t help but stare up at Jimin, feeling kind of betrayed. “Minnie-yah-”

But before he’d even had a chance to work up enough air for a good wail Jimin was pushing into him again, his teeth set and his lips pulled into an almost-snarl of concentration. It was all Jungkook could do to dig his heels into Jimin’s back and flex his biceps against the pull of Taehyung’s hands and hold on.

Jimin wasn’t small by any means, but his cock was also nowhere near the biggest thing that Jungkook had ever put inside himself, so Jungkook wasn’t entirely certain why — as Jimin deliberately shifted his hips, just-barely fucking into Jungkook over and over so the crown of his cock pushed repeatedly through the trembling clench of his asshole — he felt like he was about to come flying apart into a million pieces. He squeezed his eyes closed, not entirely certain if the moisture at his temples was sweat or tears, and panted open-mouthed at the intensity of the sensation.

A bare moment before Jungkook was actually going to give in and scream Jimin stopped. Jungkook could just barely feel the tip of his dick, and the sound of their breathing, harsh and rapid — although Jungkook couldn’t help but notice that his was far moreso, Jimin didn’t sound any more winded than he did after the first few run-throughs at dance practice, the asshole — was the loudest thing in the room. He arched his back, trying to press down onto Jimin, because he fucking ached for him, but Jimin just shifted with his motions and petted his hair until he blinked his eyes open, face scrunched into a sullen pout.

Jimin was smiling, his face flushed and his eyes heavy-lidded, and. Fuck. He looked beautiful, pleased with himself and kind of sweaty, and Jungkook’s fingers twitched against Taehyung’s hands with the desire to touch him. Taehyung just gave his palms a gentle squeeze and showed no sign of letting him go, his own breathing none too steady.

Jungkook couldn’t see him past Jimin’s face, but he hoped vaguely that he was okay. Right now he had other, much more pressing things on his mind. “Hyuuuuung~” he whined, lifting his shoulders off the bed and letting them fall again in an attempt to express his frustration.

But Jimin just ducked his head to press a soft kiss to his mouth and then leaned back, licking his lips, to say, voice still farm-rough and intoxicating, “You know what you gotta do, Kookie-ah.”

For a brief moment he seemed to waver, eyes getting a little wider and lower lip tucking in for just a second before he bit off the words, his tone alone enough to make Jungkook’s stomach turn over and his dick twitch against the slick skin of his abdomen, “Beg for it.”

“Please, Jimin-ah,” Jungkook breathed, knowing even as he said it that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Jimin just raised his brows and angled his head to the side slightly, like he hadn’t heard him, and Jungkook drew a deep, raspy, wet breath and leaned his head back far enough that he could feel his hair brushing against Taehyung’s thighs, which made his hyung shift and drag in a shaky breath of his own. But Jungkook’s eyes were closed, too embarrassed by what was happening — by what he was about to do — to risk seeing anyone’s face.

He wetted his lips, all dry from panting, and took a slow, shaky breath before he admitted, his voice so soft that even he could barely hear it, “I want you so much it hurts, Minnie-ah.”

If his hands had been free he would have covered his face, but since they weren’t he just squeezed Taehyung’s hands as he turned his head, hiding his face as best he could against the swell of Taehyung’s calf as he continued talking, blushing so hard it hurt. “I’ve been imagining it was you for years, Minnie-ah. I just- I want it to be real. I want you to fuck me for real. I want-”

His voice caught, and he let it, didn’t even try to pretend that he couldn’t tell that there was a tear dripping across the bridge of his nose, which felt weird and ticklish, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway. “I want you to want me. I want you to like me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Jimin’s fingers smoothed away the tear before it could fall off the bridge of his nose, then both his hands were curling up under Jungkook’s shoulders so he could hug him close. Taehyung finally moved, guiding Jungkook’s rubbery-feeling arms around Jimin’s shoulders before carefully letting go. When Jimin’s nose rubbed up against the height of Jungkook’s cheekbone he turned his face against his best friend’s with a noise that was almost too pathetic to qualify as a sob.

But as Jimin gravitated into him, like a sun being sucked into a black hole or some other appropriately wretched metaphor, he also flexed his hips and his cock slid into Jungkook’s body in one slow, steady push that let him get as close as Jungkook had ever been to another person, their bodies so wrapped up in one another that he barely knew where he ended and Jimin began. It helped, a little, even though the way each of his wet, dragging breaths made his body move around Jimin, drawing little shivers of pleasure down his spine, was a little bit of a mindfuck.

“Kookie-ah, don’t worry, I’m just gonna move for a second,” Taehyung’s voice seemed loud in the close quiet of the room, mostly only broken by Jungkook’s shaky, sniffling breaths. One of Taehyung’s hands curled under the nape of his neck and lifted him up a little, so Taehyung could move his legs, and then Jungkook and Jimin were alone. Jungkook tucked his nose against Jimin’s, aware that it was as close to kissing as he’d be able to get for a while, and when he whispered, “I’m so sorry I’m such a wreck,” he couldn’t help but wince at the woebegone shake of his voice.

Jimin just hugged him tighter, kissing the corner of his mouth — which made him hiccup another weak little sob even as it made him feel better, less like his heart was about to leap out of his chest — and said softly, his voice back to his own soft Busan dialect and completely absent the rough, commanding tone he’d used earlier, “Kookie-ah, I’ve known you were a wreck since the first time you came over to my house and were shocked that my mom was there and made us dinner. You can barely even sleep without someone in bed with you and you’ve been practically raising yourself since you were thirteen. Of course you’re a wreck. It’s okay.”

Jungkook wrinkled his nose at that, not because any of it wasn’t true, but rather because it was kind of unpleasant having all your grossest flaws pointed out and itemized like that. He shivered a little when Taehyung tapped him on the shoulder before tucking his favorite pillow, the one with the chunks of memory foam in it, under his head and rearranging it until it was just right. Then his left side was suddenly warm, because Taehyung was tucking himself up under Jungkook’s thigh and curling his arm under the pillow so he could snuggle up against him, and he just… relaxed back with a watery sort of sound and breathed for a little while.

He’d almost stopped taking those surprising, sudden big breaths of air that made him worry he was about to cry again when Taehyung pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and tucked his face against the side of Jungkook’s head, his voice so soft and low that it made him want to wrap himself up in it all over again when he spoke. “I know I barely even know you, Kookie-ah, but- But you’re a good person. Not, like. A shining example of Confucian Ideals or what the fuck ever, but- But you take people as they are. You didn’t- You’ve never made fun of me, you know? And that means a lot.”

It took Jungkook a moment to figure out how to get his and Jimin’s arms untangled, so they could pull Taehyung into the slightly awkward cuddle thing that was apparently happening, but once everyone was settled Jungkook felt better enough that he wasn’t afraid to talk. And he almost even sounded like a real person when he did it, which was nice. “You probably know more about me than anyone other than Minnie-yah, hyung.”

Jungkook pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Jimin’s mouth before turning his head so he could rub the arch of his nose against Taehyung’s, amused that he’d somehow ended up wanting to kiss someone with a nose just as ridiculously oversized as his own. It was nice. He took a slow, deep breath that almost didn’t even shake and admitted, softly, “I’m not- I not really the easiest person to get to know. Unless you stick a dick in me, apparently. And then I turn into an enormous fuckin’ girl who can’t stop having emotions.”

Jimin poked him in the side, not particularly gently, and leaned up enough that Jungkook could stare up at him, torn between being shocked and offended. Jimin just frowned at him, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down, and said, not especially nicely, “If I hear you say something like that again, Jeon Jungkook, I’m going to stop fucking you and then I’m gonna kick your ass.”

That got Jungkook’s attention, because the implied threat there made it feel like someone had blown cold air down his back. The tone of Jimin’s voice made him shiver, because it was the exact same tone of voice he’d used the first — and only — time he’d heard Jungkook call someone a bitch, back when they were just getting to know each other. When Jungkook had tried to claim that it was just a joke Jimin hadn’t talked to him for a week, and he’d been utterly miserable, convinced that he’d lost his only real friend.

Jungkook pressed his lips together, not even really sure what he’d done to earn the voice, but afraid to do anything that might upset Jimin further. Jimin searched his face for a long, terrifying moment, then sighed, sounding suddenly tired and kind of sad, and lifted his hand up from Jungkook’s side to pet his hair back from his face as he explained, voice soft and gentle again. “While I’m not going to say that there isn’t anything wrong with you, Jungkook, because as we’ve previously established you have issues, there really isn’t anything wrong with what you did. It’s okay to have a lot of feelings when you’re having sex. Hell, I almost threw up in the bathroom at English hagwon during break, I was so fuckin’ nervous about this. About- About actually being with you, for real. That’s normal.”

“So you’re saying I’ve never had normal sex before the two of you, hyung?” Jungkook raised one eyebrow at Jimin, feeling a little bit like he was laying a trump card on the table. Jimin was weak for the Eyebrow of Judgement, and he always had been. It was always especially effective when Jungkook knew that he had the upper hand. Because nothing even remotely close to this had ever happened to him before. Ever.

Jimin opened his mouth, but Taehyung cleared his throat, which made both of them look at him. He looked a little sheepish under the collected weight of their gaze, but just swallowed and asked, retaliating with an eyebrow of his own, “Have you ever actually had sex with anyone you really liked before, Kookie-ah? Not, like. Thought was hot. But actually genuinely respected as a person, and wanted to get to know. Because if the answer’s no, then… No, you kind of really haven’t. That’s generally a prerequisite for sex, in the minds of non-Sex Demons.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, then stopped himself before he even had figured out what he was going to say, because, well. He kind of hadn’t. He closed his mouth, his lips tucking together as he made a kind of sheepish face, then he had to open again to keep breathing. “Well… No. But I kind of, um. Kind of only really liked Jimin and the Bros, before I met you. Like, really liked, like you said. Most people are just sort of… boring.”

“That’s because you’re kind of an antisocial asshole, Kookie-ah,” Jimin said with a little smile, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against Jungkook’s cheekbone. When Jungkook huffed grumpily at him he shifted his hips, which completely derailed Jungkook’s trail of thought. He’d somehow managed to forget, or at least been too focused on other things, to remember that they were still technically fucking.

But once he was reminded, it became extremely hard for him to think about anything else. He tilted his head back against the pillow, huffing a soft breath as he looked up at Jimin with eyes that still felt a little awkwardly wide and over-wet. He curled the fingers of his free hand through Jimin’s hair, easing it out of his best friend’s eyes with a careful touch, then asked, feeling kind of gross but unable to stop himself, “Is it weird that I still really, really want you to fuck me?”

Jimin didn’t so much laugh as huff a breath through his nose and smile as he ducked his head to press a slow, lingering kiss to Jungkook’s mouth. Then he leaned over and sort of gently headbutted Taehyung as he asked, “Taetae, can you grab a tissue from the bathroom? I’m down, but I don’t want anyone to accidentally die of snot inhalation.”

Taehyung laughed softly and nodded, kissing Jimin’s cheek and Jungkook’s forehead before carefully unwinding himself from the pile of limbs and clambering off the bed and heading for the bathroom. While he was muttering to himself and trying to figure out where Jungkook kept his tissues Jimin patted Jungkook on the cheek and asked him, his voice serious, “Are you sure you want to do this, Kookie-ah? You’re not even hard, and I- I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because, or whatever. We could always try again later.”

Jungkook gave Jimin his best grumpy face, which was somewhat impeded by the fact that he still couldn’t really breathe out of his nose, and then said, trying and failing not to sound sullen, “You try keeping it up while you’re sobbing. It’s weirdly difficult. Give me like a minute and it’ll be back, though. I do want to.”

Something that had been stewing through the back of his mind finally clicked into place, and his eyes widened a little bit as he huffed out an annoyed, tired sounding laugh and reached up to rub his eyes with the side of his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck. I’m an idiot sometimes. Okay.”

Jimin made a curious, slightly concerned noise, and Jungkook rubbed his hands up his best friend’s back just for the simple joy of doing it as he shifted his hips and re-adjusted his legs, hooking them behind Jimin’s back again, then explained, his voice heavy on the irony. “I kind of think that’s what made me flip out. You, uh. You told me to beg? And, like. Normally that’s hot as fuck, yeah? But I just- For a second my brain kind of went all ‘See? You want this too much. It’s not- It’s not what he wants.’ And, uh.”

Jungkook stopped, wrinkling his nose again, and was guiltily glad for the distraction when Taehyung walked back in with the box of tissues, which he should probably have told him were in the cabinet above the towels before he left for the bathroom. Whoops. But then he had to sit up enough to blow his nose, get all of the fucking gross bullshit out of his sinuses, and drink the still cold-ish water that Taehyung handed him with a no-nonsense expression.

When he was finished with that he weaseled a few of the pillows out from under his hips and stacked them up so that he was laying at a slightly better angle for actually looking at people and settled back against it, making an effort to get comfortable. Since Jimin had propped himself up, supporting his weight on his hands to either side of Jungkook’s waist, he reached casually down and palmed against his dick to see about getting that deeply embarrassing situation taken care of. Jimin finally asked, sounding a little perplexed, “Why the fuck would you think I wouldn’t want to, Kookie-ah? That doesn’t. That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

Jungkook just sort of looked stricken, his palm pressing his dick against his stomach hard enough that it stung. Taehyung reached out to pet Jungkook’s hair back off his sweaty forehead before glancing over at Jimin and raising his eyebrows. “He did that to me, too.”

Then Taehyung looked at Jungkook, a slightly fussy but very serious expression on his face, and reached out to trace the height of his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Kookie-ah- No. Jeon Jungkook, you’re one of the most attractive human beings I’ve ever met. You’re a little scary, sometimes, but I literally cannot imagine not wanting you. However you wanted me. Unless it really hurt, but that’s because I don’t like it when I hurt. Why’s that so impossible for you to understand?”

“I just-” Jungkook shifted his hips again, grinding on Jimin’s cock almost like he wasn’t aware he was doing it, his fingers slowly flattening out as his dick got hard beneath them. He realized that at some point Taehyung had gotten soft, which made sense. It had also explained a lot about why Taehyung hadn’t thought that his dick was that big, because holy grower, Batman.

But thinking about dicks wasn’t actually helping him explain the uncomfortable knot that set just behind his sternum. So he took an only slightly stuffy breath through his nose and tried again. “I just. I don’t. If no one I’ve ever fucked around with before wanted, you know. Wanted to do this with me, and I- And I like it as much as I do, then what- What does it make me?”

Jimin huffed a little breath, which could have been annoyance or realization or maybe just reaction, because Jungkook was kind of maybe definitely starting to establish a rhythm to the tense and release of the muscles of his legs. Now that his dick was fully hard again he was constitutionally incapable of not moving into the achey bliss of Jimin’s cock inside him. But Jimin leaned down anyway and caught Jungkook’s lower lip between his teeth so he could nip at it sharply before pressing their foreheads together and muttering, his voice definitely irritated, but also fond, “It makes you my stupid ridiculous amazing best friend, who’s way the fuck better off not having random NSA sex with attractive assholes who treat him like a sex toy.”

“Are you still gonna feel that way if- If I beg for it, for real?” Jungkook didn’t think that he was going to cry again, thankfully, but there was something kind of ugly, dark and resentful, in the rasp of his voice. He pushed his nose against the side of Jimin’s and said, glad that he couldn’t see anything but the dark of his eyelids, “Because I would, if you did something like that again. I like- I like getting fucked that much.”

Jimin groaned against his mouth and did that stupid fucking ridiculous body roll again. Except this time it drove his cock as deep into Jungkook as it would go, careening against Jungkook’s prostate on both the outward and inward thrusts. Jungkook couldn’t help but yell, startled and lit up with the sudden intensity of the feeling. His fingers dug into the generous, dense muscles of Jimin’s ass as his body rocked. “Oh fuck. Hyung.”

Then Jimin did it again and Jungkook winced at the sound he made, kind of warbling and squeaky, but fuck. Jimin had somehow turned his close hug into a hold against the tops of Jungkook’s shoulders that still kept their bodies close but also gave him enough leverage that Jungkook realized — with a lurch that had him pulling his legs higher up around Jimin’s floating ribs — that unexpected Feels Timeout or no, it wasn’t going to take all that much more of this for him to come.

After a few more long, rolling thrusts Jimin ground his hips up into Jungkook’s with a rough, open noise. He took a deep breath and then licked against the softness of Jungkook’s upper lip as he started to figure out how to isolate the motion that would let him put more pressure against Jungkook’s prostate with tiny, precise shifts of his hips. While he was doing so he ground out, voice catching and breaking as he pressed his nose against Jungkook’s, “I’d do this as often as you wanted, Kookie-ah. You feel- You’re so fucking amazing, Jeon Jungkook. I- It feels. You feel so good. I just wanna make you feel good, too.”

Jungkook’s slightly disbelieving chuckle (how was Jimin so perfect? It would be gross if it didn’t make him so happy) broke on a choked groan as Jimin finally figured it out. Jungkook felt like he couldn’t do more than hold on, his still-stuffy nose making him gasp openly at the careful rock of Jimin’s hips.

Jimin was grinding the head of his cock into Jungkook’s prostate, over and over, his breathing steady against Jungkook’s jaw when he ducked his head. Jungkook tipped his head back into the support of his pillow, his body starting to shake. It was kind of a shock to realize that somehow this felt even better when someone else was doing it to him. But after all of the embarrassment and build up and emotional turmoil he just… Let it wash over him.

Jungkook’s hands slid off Jimin’s ass as his whole body started to tense up, grabbing at the sheet uselessly for something to brace against, and he almost jumped when long, callused fingers laced themselves through his and squeezed them firmly.

“Breathe, Kookie-ah. Just breathe,” Taehyung’s voice was rough and low, and his fingers were tense against Jungkook’s as Jungkook dragged his eyes open to stare up at his flushed face, eyes so big and wide and his lower lip red, like he’d been biting at it. Jungkook just barely managed a smile up at him, edging the harsh pants of his breaths, before he was jerking and trying not to choke, his back arching off the bed as a huge, monstrous wash of pleasure swamped his nervous system, rolling his eyes into his head and drowning out everything but the way Jimin was moving inside him. He realized it was a dry one almost immediately, which was kind of a mercy, since he didn’t think he’d really be able to cope with being all over jizz and wailing on someone’s cock. Although it also meant he was still hard when he came down, which, well. He’d have to figure out what he was going to do about that after his body stopped shaking.

When he could, he turned his face down to press a kiss to Jimin’s temple, panting harshly, and hissed out, dragging his free hand up to hold desperately at Jimin’s shoulder, tense under his fingers. “Don’t stop, Jimin-ah. Please don’t stop.”

“If I don’t stop, I’m gonna come.” Jimin’s voice was tense, the so-carefully controlled motion of his hips stretching out into long, slow strokes that gritted his teeth and made him groan as he turned his face up to bite a few short, open kisses to Jungkook’s mouth. Jungkook’s body was still trembling with aftershocks, muscles feeling taffy-weak and just as sweet.

His fingers felt numb and fumbly, like after you accidentally lay on your arm for too long, but he managed to get them wound through Jimin’s hair well enough that he could urge his head up. When he saw Jimin’s face, his eyes hooded and his lower lip caught between his teeth, visibly struggling to contain himself, to keep it together, Jungkook couldn’t help the way it made him gasp, dick twitching and all of the muscles in his body rippling at how good it felt, to know that he, Jeon Jungkook, was the one who’d made Jimin feel like that. He dragged his tongue against his lower lip and said, hushing the words out as he tipped his chin a little, “Do it, Minnie-ah. I want- I wanna be the one to make you come.”

Jungkook could feel the moment that Jimin let himself go, in the sudden laxity of his shoulders and the way his hips sped up, fucking into him with an intensity that made his toes curl and his breath hitch. Jungkook was a little worried that he might come again, that summer-hot pressure twisting in his guts as Jimin’s cock worked inside him. But then Jimin’s hips caught up against his and his best friend ground up into him so hard that he moved on the bed. Jimin’s eyes slipped closed and his mouth fell open, his voice catching and breaking in a way that made Jungkook feel weak.

He could just barely feel Jimin’s cock twitch inside him, too far in for any kind of real sensitivity, and then he was holding Jimin’s face in his hand and pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, as Jimin let out a low, sated groan and relaxed against him. Neither of them were necessarily at their best, Jimin panting and Jungkook still all snuffly, but when they kissed Jungkook couldn’t imagine anything in the world that could possibly be as satisfying as the drag of their tongues and the tingling burn of Jimin carding his fingers forcefully through his hair to tug him closer.

He wasn’t entirely certain how long they’d been kissing when Taehyung gave his hand another squeeze and let him go. From the way Jimin shivered against him he assumed that Taehyung was petting at his skin. Then it was Jungkook’s turn, and Taehyung was unhooking his ankles and pressing his feet back to the bed, which was interesting both because it made his hips move and because Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his ankles felt… Really good. Huh.

“I know you don’t want to, but Minnie-ah, you’ve got to grab the condom and move. If you stay too long you’ll get soft and it can slip off and that shit is embarrassing enough when you’re talking about trying to find it in a vagina. I don’t even want to think about how nightmarish it would be in this instance.” Taehyung’s voice was kind of breathy, sounded amused.

When Jimin did as he said Jungkook was too busy reaching down and shoving the first three fingers of his left hand into himself, totally unable to deal with the inevitable aching emptiness, to watch what Jimin did. Condoms weren’t that hard to figure out, he’d be fine.

But Jungkook didn’t feel especially fine. He felt turned on and kind of emotionally hungover and he really just- “T- Tae-hyung?”

He didn’t realize that he’d decided to speak before it came out of his mouth, and he was kind of horrified. But then there were warm hands smoothing up the insides of his thighs and Taehyung was leaning over him, the corner of his mouth turned up, and he looked- God, he looked perfect. Like a dream. Jungkook wanted him so fucking bad.

It wasn’t like they didn’t already know he was a slut, right? Might as well prove it.

Taehyung asked, all soft and gentle, “What do you need, Kookie-ah?” He raised his eyebrows a little, obviously trying to look and act reassuring, his palms rubbing slow lines up and down Jungkook’s skin. It felt a little like they were leaving fire in their wake. When Jungkook glanced down the line of Taehyung’s body he was reassured and guiltily glad to see that he was hard.

Jungkook winced a little, twisting his fingers and rolling his hips, then dragged his lower lip through his teeth. He met Taehyung’s eyes through his lashes and asked, trying and mostly succeeding in keeping the embarrassment and pleading out of his voice, “Can you get another condom, hyung? I-”

Before he could even get out his miserable explanation, Taehyung leaned in, one hand on the bed next to Jungkook’s shoulder for support, and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Jungkook twitched a little, surprised and kind of confused, all the preemptive explanations piled up on his tongue. When he opened his mouth to try explaining again, Taehyung slid his tongue into it instead.

Taehyung had never kissed Jungkook like this before, forward and borderline aggressive, and it- It made him work his fingers inside himself a little more forcefully, which made his back arch and his breathing break in a breathy little sound against Taehyung’s mouth. Then Taehyung was working his free hand between Jungkook’s head and the pillow to pet down the back of Jungkook’s neck, which made him moan.

“You’re so fuckin’ amazing, Jungkook,” Taehyung murmured against the soft space below his lower lip, his voice suddenly sounding much deeper and rougher than it had when Taehyung had been busy trying to make sure he was okay. Jungkook whimpered again, torn between loving how good this felt and his kind of lowkey desperate desire to be full.

Thankfully the fucking Chingu Wonder Twins had, apparently, planned for everything. Jimin said, “I’ll get it,” from over by the fridge, sounding sated and kind of sleepy and obnoxiously pleased with the universe.

Taehyung just hummed and started sucking open, wet kisses down the side of Jungkook’s neck, which had Jungkook twisting his head to give him more room and whining soft and high at the back of his throat. He’d hit the point where he was so turned on that his fingers weren’t cooperating, and no matter how he twisted his hips he couldn’t manage to ease the ache in his guts.

It sucked, and distracted him enough that when the condom wrapper hit Taehyung in the shoulder like a shuriken and bounced onto the sheet, making Taehyung bite his shoulder a little harder than he’d probably intended to as he jumped, it started a weird moany squeak out of Jungkook that made him laugh. He scrubbed at his face with his free hand before he dragged his fingers through his hair and let his arm relax over his head.

Taehyung wasted no time in grabbing the condom, although when he held it between his teeth Jungkook almost got on to him for it. But then he realized he wasn’t trying to open it, just holding it for a second as he rocked up onto his knees, face squinting a little as he used his hand to stroke his foreskin up to cover as much of the head of his dick as he could manage with as hard as he was. Then he opened the condom properly, using two hands and a deft twist of his wrists, and put it on as efficiently as Jungkook could have.

Taehyung found the lube and slicked himself up, his nostrils flaring a little as he inhaled. His eyes weren’t looking at anything in particular as he stroked over his dick, his mouth tucked into a little pout of concentration, and Jungkook found himself curling his fingers a little more forcefully into himself, because fuck he looked good. Then Taehyung was catching the wet wipe Jimin threw at him and wiping off his hand before throwing it back so Jimin could drop it in the trash before climbing back onto the bed.

When Taehyung looked down at Jungkook, a slow, anticipatory smile curling at his lips, Jungkook hiccuped a soft, wanting, mortified noise and dragged his fingers free of his body. He knew perfectly well that at this point he was probably gaping, but he just… “Please, Taehyung. Please.”

Taehyung just tipped his hips forward, guiding his dick with the side of his thumb until he was pressed up against Jungkook, and his quiet shushing noise at the thready, wanting whine Jungkook made as he tried somewhat uselessly to tip his hips into him made Jungkook’s stomach turn over. But before Jungkook could work up any kind of nerves about it Taehyung shot a little smile up at his face, the inside of his lower lip caught between his teeth and his eyes creased up at the corners. “Hey, Kookie-ah? Hold on.”

Jungkook thought that was kind of a weird thing for Taehyung to say, but then Jimin caught his hands, wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s thumbs, and pinned them to the bed above his head. Jungkook shot a look up at him, surprised and maybe the slightest bit alarmed, and the enormous, slightly evil looking grin on Jimin’s face didn’t reassure him at all. Then Jimin tipped his chin at Taehyung, so Jungkook looked back down at him again. And- Oh.

Taehyung had obviously been waiting for his attention. As soon as Jungkook’s eyes were on him he wrapped his hands around Jungkook’s hips, thumbs tucking against the heights of his hip bones and fingers digging into the swell of his ass. Then he tightened his grip and kicked his hips forward, pulling Jungkook onto his cock as he fucked into the slick clench of his body.

“Oh, fuck.” Jungkook pulled hard enough on Jimin’s hands that he could feel his best friend leaning back for leverage as he pushed his feet into the sheet and rolled into the snap of Taehyung’s hips. He tried not to think about how much it felt like being whole, having Taehyung seated inside him like that. Then Taehyung was leaning forward, his left hand coming up to lift Jungkook’s jaw, and kissing him like he was trying to steal Jungkook’s soul. Jungkook wanted to let him.

When Taehyung started to move his hips it wasn’t with the same kind of targeted, diabolical focus that Jimin had used, but each slow, deep thrust stole Jungkook’s breath anyway, making him arch and writhe and curse. Taehyung leaned back a little, keeping his right hand on Jungkook’s hip and bracing himself with his left, and just… Didn’t stop.

Jungkook had already been pretty worked up to begin with, and started to grimace when he heard his voice start to catch on each of his breaths, that embarrassing fucking ahn, ahn- that he’d never been able to figure out how to get rid of, but Taehyung hissed and shook his head, gritting out through his teeth, “Do it, I want you to do it. I want to watch you come.”

Jimin squeezed his hands and made a soft, encouraging noise, and Jungkook just- He squeezed his eyes closed and leaned his head back, pressing his hips up so that every time Taehyung moved against him he was hitting him just right. It felt overwhelming, like an entire universe was trying to crawl out of his belly, and the rhythmic contractions of his abs were making it hard to breathe, but as he jerked and came, rolling into the drag of Taehyung’s cock moving inside him, he felt… Good.

Taehyung didn’t slow down, just rolled his hips down so he wasn’t putting as much pressure on Jungkook’s prostate when he moved, and Jungkook’s face crunched up, once he was capable of coherent thought again. He swallowed thickly, working enough moisture into his mouth so that he could speak, and mumbled, way past giving a fuck, “Nono don’t- Just. Keep going. Fuck- Fuck me until you come, hyung. I don’t care if it hurts. I can- I can probably do it again, if you just keep doing what you were doing.”

With his eyes closed it was kind of impossible for him to figure out who made what noise, but there were a lot of inarticulate sounds that happened. All he really cared about was that Taehyung started fucking him properly again, and things got a little blurry, after that. It did hurt, a little, every press against his prostate making him twitch, but it also wasn’t much more than a minute later that it spilled back into another hateful/glorious dry orgasm, which he rode through with enough wailing that he’d almost certainly have been in trouble if the soundproofing in his apartment building weren’t so great.

He was shaking his way through the build-up for another one, dreading and anticipating it with equal vigor, when Taehyung groaned and mumbled, the sharp bite of his Daegu accent clearer than Jungkook had ever heard it, “I’m fuckin’ close, can I just-”

Taehyung slid his hand from Jungkook’s hip to press against his stomach, fingers sliding on the pre-come that sat puddled on Jungkook’s skin, and Jungkook almost crawled out of his skin when his dick bumped up against the backs of those fucking long, perfect fingers. He nodded, too fast and dizzy-making, and gasped out, “You can, you can, I want you to.”

When Taehyung wrapped his hand around Jungkook’s dick, right at the base, Jungkook screamed, yanking on his hands hard enough that Jimin almost fell on top of him before he could adjust. Taehyung only had a chance to get a half-stroke in, the press of his palm up against the underside of Jungkook’s cockhead so intense that he thought he was going to die, before Jungkook came like the world ending.

When he came down he realized that Taehyung had already pulled out, and from the sound of it was dealing with the condom. No one was holding his hands, which was kind of a bummer, but he just… Really, really didn’t want to move. So he didn’t, although when Jimin started laughing, over by the fridge from the sound of it, he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head a little to listen.

“I am so glad that I caught you before you fell face-first in it. Oh god. I’m way the fuck too tired to shower tonight, and I don’t think anyone would have been especially pleased if you had jizz all in your hair when we went to bed.”

Taehyung’s answering laugh was shaky sounding, and then something landed in the trash. “Thank you for using your Sex Ninja powers for good, Park Jimin. I appreciate it.”

What sounded like water bottles landed on the bedside table and then there were some soft sounds, which Jungkook was almost positive were kisses, before the bed moved a little and someone touched his hip, the small palm and calluses identifying it immediately as Jimin even before he spoke.

“We’re gonna get you cleaned up, okay? You look like you just about fucked yourself to death, and I know you have to be, like. Dead tired, so just… Let us, okay? Also drink this water. You have to drink one of my shitty warm ones because I don’t want you accidentally pouring cold water right in the middle of the bed before we go to sleep, and I don’t think you can sit up right now.”

Jungkook wrinkled his nose but couldn’t really disagree with that assessment, so when Jimin wrapped his fingers around a half-full bottle of room temperature water he just lifted it dutifully to his lips and started sipping at it, trying not to twitch when his best friend started cleaning him up.

Apparently he’d gotten jizz on his collarbone. Whoops.

When Jimin ran the second wipe up his asscrack to get rid of the extra lube he whined, a little, both embarrassed and sensitive, but Jimin just punched him lightly in the leg and clicked his tongue. Taehyung threw a pair of underwear onto his foot and Jimin started to work them up his legs, which made him grumble as he launched the now-empty water bottle across the room. He could practically hear Jimin rolling his eyes as he made a small, disgusted sound. “Oh no, none of that. We’re going to sleep. Sleeping means everyone wears underwear. Fucking deal with it.”

By the time the boxer briefs were all the way up his thighs he felt revived enough to blink his eyes open and tug them up onto his hips himself, and realized that his hyungs were astonishingly efficient. The bed was already rearranged, his covers sitting on the foot and a reasonable number of pillows across the top, with all of his loneliness-cuddling extras heaped on the side next to the wall. Taehyung and Jimin were both wearing his underwear, and he noted with amusement and affection that although they came down a little longer on Jimin’s thighs than they did on him, they fit him just fine.

They were still adorably big on Taehyung, though.

Finally he managed to work up enough energy that he could roll over and sort of half-crawl, half-throw himself up to where humans were actually supposed to sleep, dragging his favorite pillow with him, and after a brief eyebrows-and-frowns conversation Jimin and Taehyung grabbed the rest of the pillows they’d used and threw them on the floor, then climbed up onto the bed to tuck themselves up under his arms. It couldn’t possibly have been comfortable for them, but it made him feel for a moment like his chest was going to burst, in the best possible way.

He cracked a yawn, enormous and exhausted and utterly drained, and was dangerously close to falling asleep when Jimin poked him in the stomach and tightened his leg where it was wrapped around Jungkook’s thigh, muttering grumpily, “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, Kookie-ah. Neither of us know how to talk to your creepy sci-fi lady.”

“‘Alexa, turn off the lights.’” Jungkook said in English, and the lights dimmed down and clicked off, and if either of them had anything else to say, he didn’t hear it. He was already gone.