Archive of Our Own

awake

Jimin doesn't remember the first time he met Jungkook clearly. He had been cold and hungry that day, but he was always cold and hungry then so it all blended together. He remembers someone knocking on his door, remembers being surprised seeing a little boy his own age there because, well, Jimin didn't like telling anyone at school where he lived because he didn't want them to come over.

Jungkook had ingrained himself in Jimin's life suspiciously fast, except Jimin was ten at that time and he didn't think twice about those things. Jimin wasn't terrible at making friends, but he was also shy and lonely enough that it was easy for Jungkook to become his best (and only) one in no time.

His parents were never home. Jimin knew they both worked long hours—his father at a car dealership, his mother in a department store—and he didn't mind all that, knowing they worked so much for him, but he was lonely all the same. Jungkook was there when Jimin cried.

One night, Jungkook had knocked on Jimin's door and demanded they go star-watching together.

"I can't," Jimin had whined, but Jungkook insisted. Jimin was home alone and while he was instructed carefully to never open the door for anyone, Jungkook was always an exception.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. Don't be a baby," Jungkook had admonished. He was always teasing, always knew what to say to rile Jimin up.

"I'm not a baby." Jimin wobbled for a moment before deciding to grab his sneakers. No one was home except for him, as usual, and he'd done all his homework so what was the big deal anyway; he wouldn't get in trouble.

Jungkook had dragged him by hand up a small hill in the park down the street, and they had lain in a clearing, staring at the stars. Jimin had felt so very small. He never had anyone to do this with before—he was grateful to have a friend like Jungkook.

Jungkook seemed to sense his distress. His eyes glinted in the dark. "Aw, don't cry. You are a baby."

"Am not," Jimin insisted again, but his eyes dry up. Jungkook always knew what to say when he was sad, and in this case, it was some easy teasing.

Their friendship went on like this, Jungkook coming over every day after school when Jimin was alone in his big house (which was nearly all the time) to drag him out on adventures. He was braver than Jimin, though Jimin would never admit it, daring to do all sorts of wild things like trespassing a broken fence or snagging a candy bar from the convenience store down Jimin's street while Jimin distracted the cashier.

On the rare days both his parents were home for dinner, Jimin would always regale them with stories of what he and Jungkook had done, while his dad listened, amused. His mother was more concerned with his safety, insisting that she meet this Jungkook boy, but whenever Jimin brought it up with Jungkook, he'd always say no.

Perhaps Jimin would've done well to be suspicious of Jungkook, of how easily he ingrained himself in Jimin's life, becoming his one and only friend in the world. But Jimin was young at that time, and desperate for friendship.

What Jimin remembers most vividly, looking back, was the one night early on, when Jimin had accidentally slashed his palm with a knife while slicing open a bagel for himself to eat. He had clutched his hand and cried out at the crimson blood beading in the cut rapidly and spilling onto the ground.

No one was home, as usual, and Jimin didn't know where the bandages were, or what he should do. He was to dial 119 for emergencies, but he wasn't sure if this counted as one.

Just then, the doorbell had rung like clockwork. Jimin flew to open the door, peeking his tear-streaked face out. "Jungkook!"

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asked immediately, letting himself in. He grabbed Jimin's bloody hand, and Jimin could've sworn his eyes gleamed black as he gazed at the cut.

It hurt, and Jimin couldn't think as he shook his head. "Make it stop!"

"Okay, okay," Jungkook soothed, leading him to the kitchen. "I'll take care of you now because I'm your best friend, but you need to promise me in return."

He squeezed Jimin's hand and it hurt so bad. Jimin cried out, "Anything, anything."

"Anything?" The weird gleam in Jungkook's eyes was back. He pressed their palms together, Jimin's blood smearing over his. "You swear on your name."

"I swear!"

Jimin gasped as Jungkook brought his palm to his mouth, eyes boring into Jimin’s as he licked the cut with his tongue. It stung and Jimin cried out as his eyes pricked with tears, but then Jungkook moved swiftly as he bandaged it up. The cut disappeared remarkably quickly after that. A week later, Jimin could barely see a scar.

Even he thought it was odd at the time, how Jungkook would always appear whenever Jimin needed him most. He only asked about it once.

"Jungkook?" Jimin started softly. He was sitting across from him at the dining room table, Jungkook flipping through a book while Jimin finished up his homework. Jimin's parents were gone for a week at that time, the longest yet, and Jimin had hid in his room until Jungkook showed up. He had been curious about it for a while, how Jungkook's timing was so impeccable, but never knew how to bring it up.

Jungkook paused, gaze piercing. "What?"

Jimin wasn't sure what to say. "I was just wondering—how you're always here?" When I need you most, goes unspoken.

The air seemed to sharpen. "Why, Jimin? Do you not want me here?"

"No!" Jimin cried out. "That's not it…"

Jungkook closed his eyes, breathing out noisily. "Well, good."

Jimin could sense the frigidness between them for the rest of the night, and never asked Jungkook about it again. He had never seen Jungkook mad, but some prickling feeling made him think he wouldn't want to.

Jimin started middle school soon after that, and his mother got a new job that allowed her to stay at home more. Just like that, Jungkook started coming by less and less. It hurt with a kind of pain Jimin didn't know how to quantify yet, until one day Jungkook disappeared altogether.

Jimin had cried in his mother's lap when it had been a few weeks, and it was clear Jungkook was gone for good. "You know, I've never met the boy."

"I don't care!"

Jimin's mother hummed, stroking his hair to make him calm down. "Where does he live again?"

"I—I don't know."

"Does he go to your school, sweetie?"

Jimin had started crying in confusion and distress again. "No, I don't know. He goes somewhere else!"

Jimin's mother didn't question him any further, but Jimin overheard a whispered conversation between her and his father one night, about psychologists and imaginary friends. After that, for a brief period, his mother sent him to talk to a funny lady after school who asked him weird questions about Jungkook. It was a bitter part of Jimin's childhood.

Jimin would insist that he was real, but over time, he became less and less sure. He would forget about Jungkook in time, his name only coming up when his mother wanted to have a laugh telling his childhood stories at dinner parties. Jimin eventually believed it, and he thought nothing more.

-

Jimin sighs as he slumps against the counter, a rare lull in the endless stream of customers in the boba shop. It’s located right on campus so during the day, it’s filled to the brim with harried college students studying and getting their milk tea fixes.

Working the counter is tiring, if only because Jimin has to smile and greet everyone with a cheer that he does not have today.

“We’re almost done, Jimin,” Taehyung calls out while washing cups in the sink. “Shift ends in thirty.”

“Oh, finally. I think I’m going to go home and pass out,” Jimin mumbles.

“Uh, no? Park Jimin, it’s your birthday dinner tonight.”

"What?" Jimin had completely forgot. "Shit—you're right."

Taehyung stares at him, eyes round. "It's your own birthday, did you really—"

"I've been busy, okay," Jimin defends. Even so, he's a little appalled at how he managed to forget. Between the extra shifts he's taken on this week and the never-ending pile of school assignments, he barely has time to breathe, let alone remember the date.

"Alright, well, we're taking you out tonight and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Okay." Jimin laughs. He's able to finish his shift with a little more spring in his step than before.

"Where are we going?" Jimin asks, when they've finished closing up, kicking around outside as they wait for their KakaoTaxi to show. Both of them are bundled up in scarves and coats, the October chill permeating the air.

"It's a secret." Taehyung grins at him. "Promise it's nice though."

Jimin frowns. He hates it when people spend money on him, but Taehyung is prepared and gets in a rebuttal before Jimin can even open his mouth to complain. "And no complaining from you, Park Jimin. You gotta let us treat you at least once a year."

"Okay, okay." Jimin sighs, watching the pale cloud of his breath float away. He's been secretly worrying about bills for a couple of weeks—the financial aid office giving him trouble, as usual—and he recently got a notification that rent was probably going up as well. Jimin almost wants to put an ad out for a roommate at this point, that's how desperate he's gotten.

When their taxi eventually pulls up, Jimin climbs in, collapses against the seat and closes his eyes, the heating seeping into his bones and making him sleepy. "Wake me up when we get there."

Taehyung hums affirmation, tapping away at his phone.

Jimin wakes up to Taehyung shaking his shoulder. "Okay—Jiminie, we're here."

Here is a plaza outside a skyscraper containing a shopping mall, one that Jimin recognizes as being in a very expensive area in Mapo-gu. "Taetae, I know I agreed you guys could treat me once but isn't this—"

"Nope, not hearing it." Taehyung leads him inside and makes a beeline for the elevators, hitting a button for an upper floor. Jimin peers at the advertisements on the side, mostly for restaurants on other floors, but they do nothing to unravel the mystery of the one they're going to.

When they arrive, Taehyung grins. "I was going to have you close your eyes but I'd guess you wouldn't be down for that."

"You guessed right, Kim Taehyung." Jimin breezes past him. He smells the restaurant on this floor before he sees the entrance. "Oh, my god."

Taehyung grins. "Thank you, Kim Taehyung. You're an angel, Kim Taehyung. This was my idea to come here, you know."

They're outside an American-style barbecue restaurant, the smell of grilled meat wafting out of the stylish dark interior. Jimin feels his eyes prick, remembers saying offhand sometime around Taehyung how he wanted to try American barbecue even though it was too expensive. "Thank you," he murmurs.

Taehyung's smiling bright enough to rival the sun. "It's nothing. Everyone's inside, c'mon."

Everyone is, indeed, crammed in a booth inside, Hoseok and Seokjin squabbling on one side, Namjoon and Yoongi watching, bemused, on the other. "I'm here with the birthday boy," Taehyung announces.

Seokjin yells. "Happy birthday, Jimin-ah!" Everyone gets up, and Jimin gets wrapped in multiple hugs.

Jimin is filled with more warmth and contentment than he has felt for a while, plus a sense of belonging he almost forgot he could be privy to. He's grateful, so grateful to have been able to make friends like these. He never expected that moving to Seoul would turn out this way, his current circle a sharp contrast to his childhood's. Jimin's childhood self would've never believed it.

-

When Jimin gets back to his apartment, he's still floating on a high borne of good food and good company. He's pleasantly full, and able to get ready for bed in better spirits than usual.

Jimin's showered and changed into a comfy tee and sweats, sitting with his laptop and getting some extra studying in before going to sleep, when the doorbell rings. He gets up, surprised at the time. He doesn't get visitors usually, especially not this late. "Who is it?" he calls.

He wonders briefly if he had left something at the restaurant, Taehyung or someone else coming over to drop it off. A glance at his phone reveals no pertinent KaTalk message though, and Jimin approaches the door, wary. There's no response, so he calls out again. "Hello?"

"Fuck—" Jimin almost screams, skittering back when the door opens, cold air rushing in. He could've sworn he locked it when he came in.

There's a man standing there, clad in only a white t-shirt and jeans, not looking chilly at all. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"I'm—I'm sorry? Do I know you?" Jimin asks, heart pounding, ready to slam the door in his face. The man can't be much older than him, face young and handsome, though he's definitely taller and more built than Jimin. He doesn't get out much at school, doesn't have many friends besides the ones he just bid goodbye to at the restaurant.

What draws Jimin's sight immediately, though, are his eyes, dark and piercing. It makes him uneasy, the feeling setting off some faraway sense of recognition in the back of Jimin's mind. "Of course you do," he drawls, stepping in before Jimin can do anything otherwise. "Happy birthday, Park Jimin."

How does he know? Jimin's starting to become very, very terrified. "How do you—how do you know who I am?" he tries to ask firmly, but his voice shakes.

There's a niggling sense that he does know this man, especially as Jimin takes him in, in his entirety, but he's still alarmed. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, ready to call the police, but a hand shoots out to grab his wrist before he can do anything. "Now, then. Don't be afraid. That's no way to treat your best childhood friend."

Jimin gasps. It can't be. "Jungkook…?"

"In the flesh," he grins, all teeth. Just like that, Jimin can see in his face some features that set off his recognition: his round doe eyes, his slightly bigger-than-average nose, his front teeth that Jimin used to claim reminded him of a bunny.

"It's really you." All of Jimin's previous alarm is gone, caution thrown in the wind as he steps closer, hand reaching out to almost touch Jungkook's face, as if to confirm that he's real. "What are you doing here?"

"Jimin," Jungkook murmurs, gaze liquid and heavy, running up and down as if drinking in the sight of him. "I've come to collect."

-

They're both sitting on the sofa later, Jimin with his feet tucked in under a blanket, nursing a cup of tea in his hands, as Jungkook sips at the glass of water Jimin offered him. Even though Jimin can see flickers of the eleven-year-old Jungkook in him, there's a lot he doesn't recognize. He's handsome, anyone with eyes can tell that, and Jimin has to look down at his hands with a flush on his cheeks whenever Jungkook catches him staring.

"So," Jimin starts, pauses. "Where have you been?" Why did you leave so abruptly, goes unspoken.

"Here and there," Jungkook shrugs. He's not been forthcoming so far.

"People—people said you weren't real, that I made you up in my head." Jimin had cut off all contact with his parents when he turned eighteen, moving out to Seoul for college on scholarship and never looking back. He was able to call abuse as it was at that point. He still remembers the grueling sessions with psychologists during his preteen years, though.

"Huh." A slow smile appears on Jungkook's face. "And what did you say?"

"That they were wrong, of course," Jimin insists. "But why did you go…?"

"Jimin." Jungkook sets his glass down on the coffee table. "I'm not who you think I am."

Jimin pauses, clutching his own mug tight in his hand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that—" Jungkook stops. "I can smell your fear, don't be."

"I—what?" Jimin's nervousness only spikes, hackles rising.

Jungkook closes his eyes, tipping his head back, and Jimin allows his gaze to drag over the curve of his throat before he looks away, flushing again. "You're as pure as ever. Well, relatively."

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

He breathes in deeply, acting as if he hasn't heard a word. "Knew you'd be delicious from the start, but so difficult to corrupt. There's really only have one avenue, but it'll be fun for both of us."

"Seriously—"

Jungkook moves swiftly, sitting up and pulling Jimin's wrist to force him to meet his eyes. "Look at me very, very carefully, Jimin."

Jimin unwittingly locks gazes with him. Jungkook's eyes always had a piercing look to them, but now Jimin's mesmerized by their depth, the color of his iris so much darker than the usual brown most people have.

A blink, and Jimin screams as the whites disappear, Jungkook's eyes flooded with black and nothing else. It's enough to plummet his stomach into an all-consuming fear, the sight igniting in him some primal terror. He chokes up. "Fuck, fuck—oh—"

"Don't be scared," Jungkook repeats, languid. Another blink, and his eyes go back to normal. Jimin fights to get away, but his grip is like steel, Jimin's wrists caught and dwarfed by Jungkook's long fingers.

"Who—what are you? Get the fuck away from me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Jimin," Jungkook says softly.

"And why's that," Jimin spits. He needs to, he needs to get away—

"Jimin," Jungkook repeats again, voice so calm that Jimin has to calm down a bit himself. "You're mine now."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, or what you're on, but you need to get out of my house right now and stay away from me." Jimin still can't get away, and he's shaking.

"Ah, but Jimin, you promised me yourself." Jungkook flips his hand over, exposing his palm. There's nothing there but the remnants of a scar, so old that the only thing visible is the shiny strip of skin where the scar tissue remains.

The memories come back in a flood: the blood, the promises. "No," Jimin gasps.

"Yes," Jungkook says, looking satisfied as it sinks in.

"I didn't—that didn't mean anything," Jimin insists, panicking.

"Of course it did. Now that it's been ten years, it's time to hold up your end of the deal."

"What deal?"

Jungkook tilts his head. "You always thought I was your guardian angel, but that's not quite it. Jimin, what do you think I am?"

"Fuck, I don't know. A—demon?" It should be absurd. It should be absurd, but Jimin has just seen his eyes, and fuck if he's ever seen anything like that ever before.

"Correct. And you willingly entered into a contract with me."

"I didn't know." Jimin thinks he's entered a state of shock.

"You promised me anything." Jungkook laughs. "But I'm not that demanding. I just want your soul."

What? "Are you going to kill me?" Jimin asks weakly.

Jungkook looks affronted. "I would do no such thing."

"Why haven't you just—just taken it already?"

"Ah." Jungkook sniffs, wrinkling his nose. "You're delicious, Jimin, but you're much too pure to be palatable to me. No, you're going to need some work."

"What?"

"It's late, I'll leave you to it." Jungkook withdraws his grasp suddenly, making to stand, but now it's Jimin's turn to grab him and keep him from leaving.

"No, there's so much you haven't explained."

"Oh, don't worry, sweet thing. I'll be back."

Jimin follows him to the door, trailing him helplessly. "Jungkook, you need to explain—"

Jungkook turns, fixing him in that shiver-inducing gaze again. "Tell me, do you know what the seven deadly sins are? You humans are so fond of your little trivia."

"Yes—yeah."

"You're not greedy, nor a glutton, and you work too hard to ever be considered a sloth. You don't get particularly angry and hateful, and you aren't prideful either. Envy is there, just a little bit, but we can both agree, you're justified in that, no?" Jungkook steps closer, bending until he's murmuring into Jimin's ear, close enough that Jimin can feel his heat. "Lust, though. There's a lot we could do in that department."

Jimin wants to step back, to flee, but he finds that he can't move.

"Tell me, Jimin—when was the last time you got fucked? Was it Taemin, your sweet friend from college? You had some one-night-stands, some hookups, but you've never been defiled the way you really want, have you? Think about it, my hands on you."

"Sweet dreams." Just like that, he's gone, leaving Jimin on his doorstep, head spinning, cheeks aflame and heat trailing down his spine.

-

It's a long night, as Jimin tucks himself into bed with a daze, head spinning with Jungkook—not only what Jungkook had revealed about himself, but Jungkook. Some traitorous part of Jimin thrums with want, as he thinks about his hands, his body.

And he had been right—Jimin doesn't manage to get out often. What sexual experiences he has had have been few and far between. It wasn’t that he was lacking in any partners but, between classes and homework and work work, he just didn’t have time for it.

He curls into himself, face aflush as he thinks about just how tightly Jungkook had held onto him. Jimin can admit to himself just how much he likes it. He’s always so strung up, busy and taking on too many responsibilities in his day-to-day; it would be nice for someone to take him apart and force him to let go.

Demon, his brain reminds him, and Jimin shivers. Jungkook’s a demon. Whatever he has in store, Jimin would do well to be terrified, but some small part of him almost wants it.

Fuck, Jimin barely has time to get himself off at this point. He has fantasies, like everyone else, and sometimes he lets them play out in his head as he's fingering himself, but most of the time, Jimin doesn't get to indulge.

He closes his eyes, allowing himself to briefly think about the trails of heat that Jungkook's hands would leave over his skin if Jimin let him touch him. Before he knows it, his exhaustion drags him down into a deep slumber.

His dreams, though, are remarkably vivid.

-

asleep

"Jimin," a voice croons softly. Jimin's gaze sweeps over the massive atrium—throne room?—he's in, all black marble veined in gold. There are massive columns along the sides, reminiscent of Greek architecture that Jimin vaguely remembers seeing in pictures. The room is as large as five football fields placed beside each other, the high ceiling almost too far away for Jimin to see the intricate paintings spanning it in the shadows.

Jimin's kneeling at the foot of a massive throne, golden cuffs on his wrists and ankles secured to delicate golden chains, gossamer fabric criss-crossing over his body and barely covering his thighs.

"Jimin," the voice calls again, and finally Jimin looks towards the throne itself, towards Jungkook. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's no hesitation as Jimin crawls into his lap, his golden chains clinking even as Jungkook places his hands on his hips, as if to hold him in place and get a good look at him.

His torso is bare, Jimin flushing as he gently touches his golden skin, muscles rippling underneath. There's some black, robe-like fabric covering him from the hips down, and Jungkook's eyes are as beautiful as ever.

My king, echoes in Jimin's mind, and he doesn't give himself pause before he's pressing closer and kissing him, Jungkook's mouth hot under his own. Jungkook tastes better than he ever could've imagined, and Jimin can't get enough, pressing closer and closer as if it'll allow them to meld into one.

Jimin's his favored, he knows. His favorite pet, and Jimin shivers as Jungkook runs his hands down the curve of his back, their width spanning almost his entire waist. His king is so strong, so powerful, and Jimin can't help it as he rises to his knees—still straddling Jungkook—and brings their bodies even more flush together.

"Sweet Jimin," Jungkook murmurs into his mouth during a lull. "Little minx, what do you want?"

His hands slide down to Jimin's lower back, gently idling in the dimples there. "Please," Jimin sighs. "Fuck me, I need it."

"Oh?" Jungkook chuckles, mirth dancing in his eyes. "And in front of my entire council?"

Only then does Jimin notice the men ringing a massive table slightly below them. They cough, looking away when Jimin allows his gaze to sweep over them.

He turns back, and almost surprises himself as he says, "Show them how well you fuck me, my king."

Jimin never considered himself much of an exhibitionist, but he shocks himself with just how badly he wants it, how much he's hard already. Just thinking about all these men watching him get fucked, watching Jungkook making him take it, is enough to have him grinding down with a pitiful whine.

"Your wish is my command." Jungkook parts what little fabric is dangling over Jimin's ass, then squeezes a cheek in each hand as if relishing the feeling. "You dirty little thing. Do you even need me to finger you open? Aren't you loose already?"

Jimin thinks he could just slide in, so, so easily, but he wants Jungkook's fingers in him too, he's so greedy for his touch. "I want your fingers in me, please."

Jungkook hums. "Alright, then."

The first finger is magically slick as it touches his entrance, circling it gently enough that it makes Jimin impatient. He wants it hard and rough and mean and this just isn't enough for him. "Please," he begs, wiggling his hips.

He can feel Jungkook growing hard underneath him, and he groans. That's enough for Jungkook to actually plunge a finger in, making Jimin sigh out in pleasure.

One finger becomes two, then three, and Jimin can only grasp at Jungkook's shoulders with his mouth dropped open as Jungkook's blunt fingers work in and out of him.

"Oh, you want it bad," Jungkook notes as Jimin's hips jump with a prod of his prostate. "I think you're ready to take my cock."

Jungkook shifts his robes aside until Jimin can catch an eyeful of his dick peeking out and—fuck, it's massive, thick and red and shiny at the tip with precum. He shifts, one hand guiding Jimin's hips, the other notching the head of his dick with Jimin's entrance, holding it steady.

Jungkook sinks in smoothly with a grunt, underscoring Jimin's soft whine. He's big, feels like he's taking Jimin apart. Jimin pulls himself back up with a gasp—it's too much, Jungkook's too much, but he only yanks him right back down with a growl, plunging in deep enough to make Jimin squeal. "Oh, fuck, Jungkook—"

"You're so good for me, little bird." Jungkook groans, hips strong in their upward movement as he brings Jimin down over his dick over and over again, almost as if he was just a fucktoy for him to jackhammer into.

"J—Jungkook," Jimin cries out. He loves getting fucked like this, taking dick, and he feels his hole get loose and sloppy with it.

"You're my favorite, you're so good." Jungkook tips his head forward, sucking a dark mark into Jimin's skin above his collarbone. Right underneath, on the perfect indent of Jimin's clavicle, there sits his tattoo of Jungkook's insignia, his royal crest, the design of a boar marking Jimin as his.

Jungkook slows down and Jimin whines. "No, please, faster." He's not having it, wants Jungkook to fuck him so deep he'll be feeling it for days.

"Patience, my jewel. We're putting on a show, remember?" Only then does Jimin remember, with a curl of heat suddenly thrumming low in his belly, that they have an audience. Now, as he's listening carefully for it, he can hear the heavy breathing, the muffled grunts.

Jimin can't see, with his body still facing Jungkook, but he hopes the men are uncomfortably hard with the idea of fucking him as they watch Jungkook screw him within an inch of his life.

As if Jungkook can read his mind, he pauses, adjusting Jimin until he's facing the other way, hands looping underneath Jimin's knees as he forces him to splay his legs over the arms of the throne, leaving Jimin completely exposed.

Jimin feels his face heat up, more than usual, as Jungkook pistons his hips even harder, making Jimin's little cock bounce for everyone to see. It makes Jimin want to cover his face in shame, but it's useless—one of Jungkook's hands shift from his grasp on his waist to catch Jimin's wrist and hold it tight. "Let everyone see how well you take a fucking."

The men—Jungkook's council—are all standing, faces red and trousers tight. Some of them have their eyes averted, others are unabashedly staring at Jimin. He preens under their gazes, arches his back as if to put on an even better show.

"That's it, there we go," Jungkook murmurs. He doesn't stop bouncing Jimin on his lap, but reaches around at the same time to wrap a hand around Jimin's dick.

Jimin's mind hazes out, head lolling back on Jungkook's shoulder and mouth dropping open as he allows himself to succumb to the pleasure. It takes a remarkably short period of time for Jimin to come, spilling all over himself as his mind goes blissfully blank, no doubt aided by Jungkook talking straight filth in his ear.

Jungkook's hands go back to his hips and Jimin is so languid at this point, limbs loose and feeling like a doll as Jungkook sinks his teeth into his skin and jackhammers up into him, no doubt close himself. It feels like he's trying to fuck Jimin apart, and all he can do is lie there and take it.

When Jungkook comes with a grunt, filling Jimin deep with cum, Jimin's oversensitive to the point where his thighs are shaking. He sighs when Jungkook finally stops, pulling out, but still whines with displeasure as he feels Jungkook's cum leak out of his puffy hole.

He thinks he's done until Jungkook beckons his men over. "Namjoon, Yoongi, come here."

Jimin gasps as two men of his council approach, his legs still splayed apart, defiled hole exposed. Jungkook continues without paying him any mind. "I said today I was most pleased by your work at the treasury. Therefore, I have a reward."

Jimin tries to snap his legs closed but Jungkook's grip is tight and bruising. "Now, now, little bird. Be good for my men."

He doesn't want this, but he does. Jimin shivers with it—he feels like such a dirty, desperate slut, as Namjoon unfastens his trousers and pulls his already hard cock out. Jimin's on vaguely familiar terms with his king's chief of coin, and he would easily agree that Namjoon is a handsome man. He feels a delightfully hot thrill as Namjoon's hands join Jungkook's in spreading Jimin's legs apart, his cock pressing against his swollen rim.

Namjoon presses in with almost no hesitation and Jimin is loose and sloppy for him, taking his cock like he was born for it. Jungkook whispers words of alternating praise and degradation, and Jimin feels himself getting hard again.

After that, Jimin's fucked by man after man until he loses count, his king proffering his dirty hole as a reward for his council doing well in whatever miscellaneous matter of the state. He loves it, loves getting fucked stupid until he forgets what it's like to not have someone’s cock driving inside of him. Jimin comes so many time he runs dry.

-

awake

When Jimin wakes up, his sheets are damp with sweat and fuck—there's cum too. It's embarrassing; it hasn't happened to him since high school.

His entire body feels pleasantly sore, thighs wobbling as he attempts to stand, and what lingers from his dreams make him flush to the core. Jimin bites his lip, almost unable to comprehend what his mind has conjured up. He doesn't remember much, just remembers getting trainfucked and—Jungkook.

He brushes his teeth and goes through the rest of his morning routine slowly. Jimin steps into the kitchen, ready to make himself breakfast, and almost gets a heart attack at the sight of Jungkook sitting at his dining room table. "Fuck!"

"Good morning," Jungkook greets, and Jimin clutches himself.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"Demon." Jungkook gestures. Fuck him. "How did you sleep?"

Jimin goes tomato red. Jungkook can't know—he can't. "It was okay," he says, stilted.

He heads for the coffee machine to make himself a cup, but not before Jungkook murmurs. "That's good, little bird."

Jimin almost jumps a foot into the air. "How do you—What did you do to me?"

"Me? I didn't do a thing." Jungkook taps his temple with his index finger. "It's all you."

"But—you know? Were you there? Was that really you?"

"That was a dream, yes, and I was there. Lucky me."

"How?" Jimin despairs. His cheeks have taken on a permanent rose tinge. "If it was a dream… How could you make me do all… that."

"Well, to answer the first part of your question… I'm a demon," Jungkook repeats. "But, I didn't do anything. You were the one who did all the imagining, sweet thing. Every bit of it, that's all on you."

Jimin's going to die. "Oh…"

"I thought I'd have have my work cut out for me, corrupting you, but you're practically there already, aren't you?" Jungkook chuckles to himself. "Must be a dam waiting to burst after you've tried to suppress it for so long. Lucky me, I'm only here for the ride."

Jimin takes a seat, slumping his face forward into his hands. "Okay, well," he says, muffled. "What does this entail, again? When I'm, uh, 'corrupted', what's going to happen to me?"

"You soul will belong to me." Jungkook smiles beatifically. He'd pass for any handsome college student, except for something in his gaze that is a lot more sinister.

"And…?"

"And that's that. You're mine, Park Jimin, don't forget."

Before he can get a word in otherwise, Jungkook has backed into the shadows and disappeared again.

-

Class goes by in a whirl, Jimin's attention frayed as he barely manages to make it through lecture. He almost forgets to stop by Hoseok's place to feed his cat. Running into Namjoon and their other friends during lunch is an ordeal in and of itself, as Jimin stutters and blushes and is unable to meet any of them in the eye. Fuck, he's a complete mess.

His gaze always falls to Namjoon's hands, or Yoongi's tongue, and he shivers as he remembers just what they had done to him with those in his dream. Jimin shakes his head, trying to urge those thoughts away. He's never been one for dirty daydreams, nor has he ever thought about his friends in that particular way.

At work, Taehyung mucks around as usual, though he's able to pick up how on edge Jimin is today. Damn his perception skills, Jimin thinks, as Taehyung shoots him his third worried look in as many minutes.

"You okay, Jimin?" He starts, when they're closing up shop and cleaning dishes side by side.

"Of course." Jimin plasters a smile on his face, hoping that Taehyung won't prod.

He, of course, can't fool him. "Are you sure…?"

Jimin sighs. There's no way he can explain the full circumstances of his situation, so he does as best he can. "One of my childhood friends showed up recently."

"Oh," Taehyung says, biting his lip. He knows Jimin is reticent about his childhood; Jimin never brings it up so he doesn't either. It's one of the many things Jimin is grateful to him for.

"It's great but, I haven't seen him in so long. It's kind of weird."

"I see." Taehyung looks mostly satisfied by this explanation. He perks up. "Can I meet him?"

"Uh…" Jimin does not think that would be the best idea. He'd like to keep Jungkook far, far away from his friends, thank you very much. "I'm not sure, he's kind of.. shy?"

Taehyung doesn't press, but Jimin has a feeling it's going to come back later. He was never one to just let things go, unfortunately.

Just like he expected, Jungkook is home when Jimin gets back. Jimin tosses his bag on the ground as he doesn't bother to lock the door. Fat use it was anyway. "So, like, are you living here now?"

Jungkook nods. "Indefinitely."

Jimin opens his mouth, then closes it. There's not much he can do to protest. What are his options? He can't call the police—when he tried telling his own mother about Jungkook as a kid, he'd just ended up in a psychologist office. He can't call his friends—the thought of Jungkook near them sends a chilling ripple down his spine. And it's not like he can physically do anything to Jungkook, though he tamps down on that thought before his mind overworks itself imagining how forcing himself on Jungkook could end.

So, with his king in check, he does nothing.

His stomach alerts him that he hasn't eaten since morning before his work shift. Ignoring it for now, he strips off his jacket and digs out his lab notebook from his backpack, then heads toward his bedroom.

After a few seconds, he hears footsteps at his door.

"You're not going to eat dinner? I can hear your hunger."

Jimin looks up from his desk. Briefly, he considers straight up lying, but Jungkook would be able to tell, probably. "Aren't you hungry?" he shoots back. "No souls to eat today?"

Jungkook sighs, falling back on his bed. "It doesn't work like that."

"No? Enlighten me."

Jungkook rolls over, peering up at him with those doe eyes. "I can't, I'm sorry."

Jimin huffs, turning back to his work. The notes are blurring in front of his eyes, though, and he can't seem to concentrate, not with Jungkook here. Finally, he slams his book shut. "You can't have it."

It looks like Jungkook was dozing off, because he looks up blearily. "What?"

"My 'soul'." Jimin makes air quotes. "I don't even know what that means, and you haven't told me anything, so. You can't have it. Honestly, how do I know you're not lying to me?"

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. "What more proof do you need? You promised it to me yourself, and there's no backing out of a contract with a demon."

"I was eleven," Jimin hisses, getting up.

Jungkook stands too, and suddenly the air is crackling. His eyes are dark, and he's taller than Jimin, but Jimin refuses to back down. "You had no one except for me."

"No one asked you to come! You just showed up."

"You needed me and you know it, Jimin. I wouldn't have been there otherwise."

Jimin takes a deep breath. "It was different then, okay? Right now, I have a good life, and good friends, and I'm going places. I don't need you here, spewing some shit about how you're going to take my soul—"

"You're mine." He's made Jungkook mad, he notices detachedly. "Before you had them, all you had was me. Who knows if you'd even be here today if it weren't for me."

Jimin gasps. "Get out."

"Jimin—"

Jimin's grabbing at his shirt, not even realizing what he's doing. "Get the fuck out."

He's still seething as Jungkook disappears. "Bye, kitten."

-

asleep

"Jimin, someone's here for you." Jimin wakes up from his nap in a patch of sunlight in his room to Taehyung gently petting his hair. He yawns.

"Does that mean a bath?" Jimin's ears flatten. He hates getting washed.

"No, the boss just told me to get you as soon as possible. They're probably super rich." Taehyung laughs.

Jimin is unenthused. Ever since he came of age, he's been paraded in front of many potential owners who come to the Pet Shop looking for a hybrid. Many had liked him, but Jimin had never reciprocated, and Yoongi was better than selling off a kitten he had raised from birth to anyone he didn't want.

He usually prefers lounging around naked but for modesty's sake, he pulls on a silk robe over his slight figure as he follows Taehyung down the hall to the parlor, bell on his collar clinking gently in its familiar way. Yoongi's already there, speaking to a man who is facing away from the door.

"Ah, there he is! Jimin, come here. I have someone I'd like you to meet." Yoongi gestures him over. He's playing nice for the client, Jimin notes with a concealed grin. Everyone in the Shop knows how cranky he is in the mornings.

"Hello," Jimin says sweetly, flicking his tail. He knows he's a pretty calico, and he loves showing off. Some people prefer more exotic mixes, such as tigers like Taehyung, but Jimin is cute and very, very charming.

"This is Seokjin," Yoongi introduces.

The man looks young, and he's tall and handsome. Jimin cocks his head, still playing demure. "Hi, Seokjin."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. You're very pretty," Seokjin rumbles, reaching out to pet Jimin's ears. Jimin preens.

"Do you want to play?" Jimin asks innocently. His bell jingles.

"Of course." Seokjin turns to Yoongi. "Is the other one coming?"

What other one? Jimin wouldn't mind being part of a package deal; he gets along with many others at the Shop. He looks at Yoongi with curiosity, but Yoongi gives him a barely perceptible shake of his head, as if to say, behave. "He's coming right away. I'll be taking my leave."

Jimin leads Seokjin to the play area, making him sit on a plush cushion before sprawling on his lap. Regardless of finding a new owner or not, Jimin likes pets and Seokjin obliges, running his fingers through his hair.

Finally, someone walks in the door. "Hello—"

Jimin narrows his eyes. A dog. And not just any dog, but Jeon Jungkook. "Nice to meet you, I'm Seokjin." Seokjin stands, leaving Jimin a little disgruntled at being left on the floor. "I'd like to see you play."

So that's how it's going to be. Jimin rolls over, a little annoyed. He doesn't hate dogs, per se, but Jungkook is large and energetic, typical of a husky mix. Jimin truly cannot wait to get slobbered all over again. "Hi."

"Jimin!" Jungkook bounds over, immediately coming behind him, tucking his nose into Jimin's neck and breathing him in. Jimin shivers. "Hello."

Seokjin takes a seat on a velvet armchair, and Jungkook's hand is already parting Jimin's robe and sliding a hand down between his thighs. Jimin lets out an unwilling whine. Jungkook may be annoying, but fuck, he knows how to touch Jimin.

"O-oh," he cries out, when Jungkook's other hand wraps around the base of his tail and grasps it firmly.

"Jiminie, I missed you," Jungkook murmurs into his ear. Jimin's been fucked by him before—and daresay, enjoyed it quite a bit—but he refuses to deign him with a response.

Jungkook seems intent on getting a rise out of him. He pulls the robe back and sinks his teeth into Jimin's shoulder, making him yowl. Seokjin seems satisfied in the background, unzipping his slacks and pulling his cock out.

Jimin's already loose from playing with himself (Yoongi encourages it and the hybrids have so much energy to burn). Jungkook seems to realize as much, only toying with his entrance for a moment before grunting lowly. His grey ears are furry points on his head, his whole body strung out with desire.

Jimin whimpers as Jungkook keeps dipping his finger into his hole without doing much else. Jimin knows that Jungkook is trying to make him beg for it, and he refuses to give in, but it's terribly difficult. Jungkook has him pressed down over the cushion placed out here for this very purpose, his body large and heavy over him.

Finally, Jimin can't take it anymore. "J—Jungkook…"

"Yes, kitten?" Jimin's back arches at the term. Jungkook's hands feel so good on him, one clamping down tight on his hip, the other parting his asscheeks. Jimin doesn't self-lubricate easily but he feels how wet he is already, slick noises underscoring the jingle of his collar bell.

"Can you, please—"

"Can I what?" Jungkook doesn't budge, and Jimin lets out a frustrated groan. One finger becomes two, though, and Jimin releases a pleased mewl before he can stop himself.

"Turn him around," Seokjin commands. Jimin had almost forgotten he was there. He allows Jungkook to shift them until Jimin's pressed with his cheek to another cushion at Seokjin's feet, his ass up in the air. At this point, he's pliant and willing. "Fuck him now."

Jimin skitters. He's not ready yet, he knows, and Jungkook is well-endowed. Kittens aren't made for taking doggy cock, he thinks, biting his lip. Of course, that's probably the whole reason they're here doing this. Potential hybrid owners are always rich and dirty, many of them with fetishes for exactly this.

Jungkook's kind enough to work three fingers inside him a while more, but he pulls back and Jimin hears the slick noises and knows that he's fisting himself. Briefly, he wonders if Jungkook likes the view, because he has a damn good one, Jimin’s ass presented in front of him.

Jimin's tail flicks as he feels Jungkook lift it out of the way, and there's only a moment more before he feels the head of Jungkook's dick botched against his ass. "Okay, kitten. I'm going to fuck you now."

Jimin's mouth drops open as Jungkook pushes in, excruciatingly slow. He's thick, so thick he's smoothing out Jimin's hole, and Jungkook groans. Seokjin lets out a moan at the same time.

The mewls Jimin releases are half distressed. He's tightening up involuntarily, and Jungkook slaps his ass. "Loosen up."

Jimin tries, he tries so hard. There's little relief as Jungkook picks up the pace, his fingers sinking into Jimin's hips, likely to leave bruises for days.

Seokjin is jacking himself off in earnest right now, and Jimin finds that his gaze is fixated on the shiny tip of his cock. Jimin's drooling for a taste of it, but he knows that he isn't allowed to come into any sexual contact with a potential owner before a sale.

Jungkook's hips slamming into his ass will have to do. He pulls Jimin up by the collar, making him choke, and his hands find Jimin's nipples. They're small and pretty, and Jimin has begged Yoongi to let him get them pierced, once, but he refused. Jimin's so sensitive, though, and his little cock spurts out some precome.

With a sense of terror, he feels Jungkook's cock fattening up, the in and out becoming more difficult. "Relax," Jungkook says, but Jimin shakes his head.

He hasn't been knotted very much before, fuck, Jimin's usually only been fucked by other kittens. All he knows is that Jungkook is very, very big, and Jimin's kind of small. "Jungkook…" he cries out.

Jungkook shushes him. "I got you."

Jimin feels like he's being taken apart. "Too big—"

"It'll be okay," Jungkook says, voice surprisingly sweet. He slows down, allowing Jimin to fall forward.

His knot has widened even further at this point, and Jimin is fully rigid, tail pointing straight up into the air. "I'm… It's too much."

"You can do it," Jungkook says encouragingly. He's barely rocking his hips at this point.

Jimin gasps, pressing his tear-streaked face into his hands. Jungkook is too big, his knot on the verge of popping.

With one final grunt, Jungkook pushes his fully engorged knot into Jimin, Jimin's rim tight around it but finally giving. Jimin screams out, muffled. It feels like nothing else. He's never been stretched out like this before, feeling like he's been taken apart. The hot rush of Jungkook's cum inside him makes his thighs shake.

Faintly, he feels a hand pressed against his belly, and Jimin gasps at the feeling. He's always had a soft tummy but now—now it's protruding, the cum filling up his insides. Him and Jungkook are locked together for the time being, and Jimin lets himself sag against him. He didn't even realize he came himself, the cum staining his thighs. He's dirty and exhausted, and right then remembers that right, Seokjin is still here.

When Jimin is out of his post-orgasmic haze, he sees that Seokjin is all cleaned up and put together again. Jungkook is gently petting his ears, the two of them tied together. Yoongi comes back in with a damp towel, handing it to Jungkook to get them as clean as they can in that position.

"That was very nice," Seokjin says kindly to Yoongi. "I'll take them, both of them."

Jungkook cheers in excitement, and Jimin can't say no.

-

awake

Jimin reaches for his phone as he wakes up. He's all sweaty, though thankfully he hasn't come in his boxers again. He is hard though, and somehow this doesn't feel like the typical morning wood. All he can think about is Jungkook, Jungkook everywhere, and he shakes his head as if it'll get rid of it.

Maybe he'll be able to get off in the shower before class, Jimin thinks. Looking at his phone screen, he checks the time.

It takes a moment for the digits to sink in. "Fuck—" Jimin leaps out of bed., panicking as he grabs for whatever article of clothing he can reach. Lecture started an hour ago. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Somehow, Jimin throws on his clothes and grabs his backpack, making it to campus in a record ten minutes. It's another five for him to get to his lecture hall, and he briefly wonders if it is even worth showing up to lecture this late, but there is still a good forty-five minutes to go when he drags himself through the doors and shamefully takes a seat at the very back.

The whole day, though, makes Jimin start to think that he might've been better off just sleeping in. He's drowsy the whole time, falling asleep and unable to take in a word the professors is saying. His eyelids feel heavy, and his head nods forward multiple times as he feels exhaustion overtake him.

Jimin hadn't even went to bed particularly late last night. He had been fuming after Jungkook left, that was it. He can barely remember his dreams, but what he can recall of it makes him flush.

Finally, the lecture ends. As Jimin steps outside, the cold weather and bright sunlight sends a jolt through his system, and he feels a little more awake. And good thing, too—his shift starts in a bit.

As it turns out, Jimin's day doesn't go much better at work. He's still tired and exhausted, unable to focus on the orders he's taking and wrongly entering in several drinks. Finally, Taehyung nudges him, concerned. "You okay today?"

"I'm fine." Jimin stifles a yawn.

"Long day?" Taehyung asks.

A short one, actually, but Jimin doesn't say so. "I'm just really tired."

Taehyung looks at him carefully. "You seem tired. Are you sure you don't want to take off?"

"Really, Taetae?" Jimin could cry.

"Yeah." Taehyung shrugs. "It's no big deal, we're slow Thursday night anyway. Are you sure you're okay?"

Jimin waves his hand. "It's just classes."

Taehyung leans over to pat him, and Jimin jerks. "You're so studious."

"You know I need to keep my grades up for my scholarship," Jimin whines. The lecture today is honestly the first class he's missed in a while; Jimin's the type to even get himself to class if he's sick.

"Okay, okay." Taehyung laughs. "Anyway, get out of here. I'll get your time card for you."

"Thanks so much." Jimin squeezes Taehyung in a hug, trying to convey the depth of his appreciation. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Rest up!" Taehyung calls out.

Jimin's right about ready to fall back into bed when he gets home, but he finds the last person on Earth he wants to see when he walks in. "You," he hisses.

"Hey." Jungkook waves. He's irritatingly handsome, sprawled our on Jimin's couch and dressed like an everyday college student.

"I thought I told you to get out."

"You're kind of stuck with me." Jungkook lets his eyes flash black, and Jimin recoils.

"You won't explain anything, why should I bother?"

"I'm not allowed to explain." Jungkook shrugs.

Jimin narrows his eyes. "You're taking my soul and you won't tell me anything at all?"

Jungkook looks a little apologetic. "It'd spoil things…"

"It's already fucking spoiled," Jimin says acidly. "What are you doing to my dreams? I'm so tired."

"That, I've already told you. I'm not doing anything, it's all you."

Jimin's cheeks heat up. "I wouldn't—"

"You've been repressed for so long," Jungkook continues. "Even if I weren't here, you would've hit breaking point eventually."

"That's bullshit, I'm fine. Don't make me miss class again," Jimin says firmly. He refuses to believe what Jungkook is saying—he's been perfectly okay up till now doing what he does.

"It's funny how you're still so attached. You know none of it will matter soon?"

Jimin's eyes sting. "How would you prefer I act then? What do you want me to do?"

Jungkook makes to stroke Jimin's cheek, but Jimin slaps him away. "This doesn't have to be painful."

"Until you tell me what's going on—"

"You're not ready yet."

"The fuck does that mean," Jimin snaps.

"I'm starting to think we can go for wrath instead," Jungkook notes. He sighs. "You were to fulfill your end ten years from the contract date—"

"That you fooled me into doing."

"You and I both know how badly you needed me."

Jimin refuses to cry. He's been through so much shit, he doesn't like to think about it. Maybe there's a grain of truth to what Jungkook is saying, but he's so angry he can't think straight. "Think what you want."

Jungkook scrutinizes him. "Most demons can come to collect immediately because their souls are already corrupted and easy for us to consume. You're different though. The corruption is still a work in progress, I merely gave it a little nudge."

"Lucky me." Jimin snorts.

"I've waited so long for you," Jungkook says seriously, gaze boring into his. "I can wait a little longer."

"What were you doing in the meantime? Busy tricking other little children?" Jimin's voice is mocking but part of him is genuinely curious. And by curious, he means a lick of jealousy low in his belly. He can tell that bringing this up irritates Jungkook though.

"We have to see things through start to finish," Jungkook explains. "There can't be contracts going on concurrently. Besides, you're all that I want."

The absolute devotion in his voice sends a chill up Jimin's spine. "What… what made you come to me in the first place?"

"You were so pure as a child, even in those conditions, you were practically a beacon. And, I don't know, you were so miserable—I offered to help and you took it."

Jimin stands up, wobbling on his feet. He's dead tired, and he's not interested in arguing this point back and forth with Jungkook. He wants to go to sleep, and maybe a small dark part inside of him can't wait to dream. "Thanks, I guess."

He gazes at Jungkook's face, trying hard to think back to the child he was at eleven. Things were so different then, but Jungkook had been a constant. Even now, with what he knows, Jimin can't help but feel something around him. He's attached, more than he wants to admit. Jungkook has somehow wormed his way back to a spot close to his heart.

"You belong to me, Jimin. Soon you'll see."

-

in-between

The next two months go by in a blur, a fever dream. Jimin doesn't think he's ever felt this way before then. The dreams are intense, and Jimin becomes oddly detached from his waking moments.

The dreams go by in snippets, moments of sharp feeling that leave Jimin with his breath rattling in his chest every time he wakes up. Every night a new one, more sordid than the last. Jungkook is the only thing that remains constant in all of them, and it shakes him, how Jimin feels a rush of familiarity, safety even, when he's there.

It's their wedding night, and Jungkook is fucking him slow and sweet on a balcony overlooking the sea. Jimin can smell the saltwater, practically tasting it on his tongue.

Jungkook's a peasant boy, and Jimin's a gumiho he finds injured in the forest. Jimin's the one that does the seducing this time—and oh, how badly he wants it. Jungkook fucks him every day he comes back from tilling the fields, until Jimin finally decides to tear open his chest and eat his heart. Jimin cries then, blood on his hands and lips and teeth.

Then they're brief acquaintances at a swingers club. Jimin's husband watches on as Jungkook strings Jimin up, legs splayed impossibly wide, and fucks him until Jimin's drooling and blubbering. The silk is smooth around his eyes, wrists, torso, yet Jimin still feels sensitized to every touch of his.

Jungkook's a serial killer, hidden behind a round-eyed mask, and Jimin's husband has pissed off the wrong man. Jungkook fucks Jimin blindfolded and trussed up in the dark, and Jimin's still moaning his husband's name unknowingly.

The dreams last longer and longer, until it reaches a point where a groggy Jimin, upon waking up, thinks that things are inverted for a moment: perhaps this is the dream, and the world he just left his waking one.

There's a dystopian future, where Jimin is a lonely chaebol locked in a sanitary bunker away from a toxic world. Jungkook is a robot there, part butler and part companion that fucks Jimin however he wants, whenever he wants. While Jimin is poring through digital archives, on the search for an answer to the failings of their world. While Jimin lays in bed, inconsolable at the notion of being trapped forever. While Jimin watches the mobs go by from a one-way mirrored window. Jungkook's always by his side.

Jimin's bored out of his mind and Jungkook practically lives between his legs. That is, until there's an attempt to breach their relative safety, and Jungkook dies in the poisonous flames for him.

The next time, Jimin's a siren trembling on newly magicked legs, transported by a pirate captain Jungkook as smuggled black market goods. He keeps the bed warm for him even though being on a boat makes Jimin wish to hurl and toss himself overboard. Jimin thinks that Jungkook could be nice, kind even, when he gives Jimin the last of his rations when they're adrift on a windless sea for months.

He sings for the motley crew and sometimes Jungkook lets them fuck him too. Jimin doesn't mind—he's almost curious about the experience, after having a tail for so long. It doesn't help that the captain fucks him so well.

A kraken comes out of the deep sea to crush the ship. All Jimin remember are tentacles, tentacles gripping all over him and slithering in deep as Jungkook and the crew watch on in somber silence. He's almost a willing sacrifice.

The next time, they're singers in a boy band in Korea, compatriots in an unreal rise to fame. Jungkook fucks him backstage, fucks him in hotel rooms, and Jimin has never been quite so fond of him until then. They miss out on sleep together, dancing in the studio until the glass fogs up, and then Jungkook fucks him against those mirrors too. Fame is a fickle star, and Jungkook holds him whenever Jimin cries.

There's a lapse of care, a paparazzi shot of Jungkook kissing Jimin on a hotel balcony during a music awards show in Jakarta. They're far too brave to be blackmailed, and they both learn about falling from grace, hard.

Reality is more of a bitch, though. Jimin ends up missing more and more class. When he does make it, he's groggy, dazed, unable to contribute or even submit homework in on time. His grades slip, the scholarship office calls him in for a disciplinary meeting that he misses, reschedules, and misses again. When the verdict gets handed down—scholarship revoked—Jimin finds that he's so dulled he barely cares. It feels too unreal, like Jimin can't take it seriously.

He sees Jungkook during his every waking moment as well, but Jimin forgets which Jungkook it is, sometimes. He has to forcefully remind himself: this is demon Jungkook, not your captain Jungkook or your butler Jungkook or your bandmate Jungkook. The distinctions begin to blur, and eventually Jimin starts thinking of them as one and the same.

Jungkook seems pleased by this progress, but one thing allows Jimin to tell whether he's awake easily—Jungkook won't touch him. Jimin's used to getting fucked by him, used to his body, but real-world Jungkook is skittish about touch and refuses any type of sexual contact. Not that Jimin is trying.

Jungkook of his dreams, though, is a creature that seems to have carved out a place within Jimin for himself; that's how familiar he has become. Jungkook is a scientist and Jimin is his only test subject. Jungkook is a cult leader and Jimin is his devoted follower. Jungkook is a bodyguard and Jimin is a fickle model.

His other friends are at their wits end with worry, of course, especially Taehyung. Jimin's stopped coming to work altogether, his manager firing him after consecutive tardies and absences. Taehyung swings by one day, but Jimin is so tired he almost falls asleep as Taehyung is speaking, all panicked with worry.

The rest of them try to reach him too, but Jimin feels as if he's so far gone that they're trying to talk to him through a vat of clear gel. He's so sluggish, his reality so fragmented and disjointed, he almost can't distinguish their real selves from their fictitious ones in his dreams.

The dreams span so long that Jimin lives entire lifetimes within them. Jungkook is a crown prince, betrothed to another woman. Jimin is the sweet young son of a powerful noble, attending a tourney where he catches Jungkook's eye.

Jungkook seeks him out and they fall in love, Jungkook stealing him away to a tower and plunging the kingdom into a decades long war. Almost no one makes it out the other end, but Jimin and Jungkook do, with many children and three dragons by their side.

Perhaps the one that Jimin lived the longest in was the one where neither of them were particularly special. They were childhood friends that grew up together, to eventual lovers in college, after missed connections for years.

They got married, bought a home, raised children and then grew old together. Jimin sobbed at Jungkook's bedside when Jungkook was overcome by pancreatic cancer, the hospice ward filled with their children and grandchildren.

Jimin was not long for the world after that, passing away in his sleep to go and be with his precious Jungkook.

Jimin kisses Jungkook after that, when he's awake. Jungkook is shocked by the gesture, but Jimin is desperate and hungry and eventually Jungkook reciprocates. Jimin shouldn't be feeling it, but there's the love of a thousand lifetimes when he looks at Jungkook. There's something tangible between them, something permanent.

-

awake

The final straw comes at the start of the new year. Jimin's in one of his brief periods of awakeness, of lucidity. There's a banging on his door, and Jungkook isn't here, so Jimin goes to open it. He feels fragile all the time now, limbs loosely attached, but even so he's able to get the door open.

Taehyung stands there, expression inscrutable. "I wanted to bring this over."

There's a sweater in his hands, a cream colored cable knit that looks vaguely familiar to Jimin. "Oh," he whispers, voice hoarse. "Thanks."

Taehyung doesn't say anything as he hands it over, the air frosty between them. In an attempt to break the silence, Jimin tries to chat. "So, how've you been, Taehyung? What's new?"

Taehyung looks at him incredulously. "You're kidding me."

Even with everything dulled, it hurts. Suddenly remembering the date, Jimin's eyes fly open wide. "Taehyung, your birthday—"

"Was last week," Taehyung says flatly.

Everything comes crashing down around Jimin. His eyes fill with tears. "Taetae, I'm so sorry—"

Taehyung's shaking his head, his face contorted in pain as well. "I don't know what's with you, but—"

Jimin's grabbing at his arm, trying to make him stay, understand, but Taehyung's already pulling away. "No, Taehyung, I've just been—"

"Really tired, I know." Taehyung gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Goodbye, Jimin," he says quietly. There's a finality in his words.

When he turns around and leaves, Jimin sinks to the ground, tears on his face. What is happening to him?

-

"Jungkook!" Jimin shrieks when he appears in his living room later. "Jungkook."

Jungkook holds him tight and Jimin collapses in his arms because he feels like home. When did that happen? "Hello, sweet thing."

"What have you done to me," Jimin cries out. He stares at the back of his shaking hand, his skin pale from never going outside anymore. "What have you done?"

"I didn't do anything," Jungkook murmurs again. "It's all you. I've always only ever done what you wanted."

Jimin shakes like a leaf. "I don't understand."

Jungkook tilts his head up with a finger on his chin, eyes the same onyx. "I think you do, but you just won't admit it to yourself."

Jimin squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head hard. "No."

"You're almost ready," Jungkook says. He closes his eyes, nostrils flaring. "It's not long now. Then you and I will be together, forever."

Every part of Jimin cries out, Yes!, but even so he tries to reel himself back in. "Jungkook, I'm scared."

"Don't be. It'll just be like another dream, you and I together."

That sounds awfully pleasant, and Jimin feels something in his chest stir. "Is it going to hurt?"

"I won't let you be hurt, but Jimin," Jungkook says fiercely, shaking Jimin and forcing him to look him in the eye, "I need to hear it from you that you want this."

Jimin laughs mirthlessly. Even detached as he is, Jimin is incredulous that Jungkook seems suddenly so concerned about what he wants. "Why do you care?"

"Why do you still doubt me?" Jungkook seems angry. "Please, Jimin."

"What would you do if I said no?" Jimin asks, mostly curious.

A flash of hurt crosses Jungkook's face, but he sucks in a lip and answers anyway. "We can make another contract or something. I'll disappear for another ten years."

That makes Jimin's chest ache, surprisingly. He doesn't want that, he realizes, and he hates himself for feeling that way.

"I—I need to think." Before, Jimin would've just turned him down with no hesitation but now… Now, Jimin's escapism into his dreams is all-consuming, and he's not sure anymore.

As a kid, it was easy. He had nothing going on for him in real life, and being with Jungkook was better in every way. Today, though, he has friends and a job and future potential. Or he did, until Jungkook came back and fucked it all up. Jimin seethes. It's like Jungkook was angry that Jimin didn't need him anymore, and decided to take everything away.

"Don't fuck with me tonight," Jimin begs. "Please, just let me rest."

And pity flashes through Jungkook's eyes. Maybe some part of him really does care; Jimin can barely distinguish anymore. "Okay," he agrees. "Okay."

That night, for the first time in months, Jimin has a long, dreamless sleep.

And he hates it.

He wakes up with a pang in his chest, an emptiness, and almost cries out in relief when he opens his eyes to see Jungkook standing quietly by his bedside.

It seems Jungkook is waiting for Jimin to break first, and Jimin gives in quickly. "Jungkook, please…"

Jungkook climbs into bed immediately, stroking his hair and allowing Jimin to pool his head on his lap.

Jimin's voice wavers. "What have you done to me?" It seems like all he ever asks, now.

Jungkook doesn't answer, and Jimin already knows his response. He thinks he understands it a little better now. Instead, Jungkook lets Jimin shiver and holds him close. "You have a few more days left."

Jimin wants to ask petulantly, Until what?, but they both know what he's talking about. "Okay," he says, voice small. "Okay."

-

Jungkook disappears for the next few days, and Jimin is worried at first, until he realizes what Jungkook is trying to do. He wants to avoid swaying Jimin's decision which, Jimin thinks, is a little ridiculous considering what he's done this whole time. Missing Jungkook is actually proving more distracting than he expected.

Jimin lies in bed listlessly most of the time. He's lost all motivation to do anything, the world bland around him without Jungkook's presence. When he finally comes to his decision, he think he had actually made it a long time ago, only fully realizing it now.

He cleans himself up and dresses to leave the apartment, for the first time in a while. Jimin moves gingerly, every sensation too much for him—the cloth against his skin, the cold air against his face. The world outside feels odd around him, too sharp and too dull at the same time. Jimin feels like he's peering at it through a telephoto lens, a detached observer.

When Jimin arrives at the boba place he used to work at, he just stands outside and looks in for a moment. It's a feeling akin to visiting an elementary school when he has went on to middle school—what was once familiar feels alien, shrunken and miniaturized. He sees Taehyung inside, and feels his heart twinge.

Jimin takes a breath and steps inside. The bell jingles, and Taehyung calls out a welcome before he turns around and meets his eyes, face hardening immediately.

"Hi, Taehyung," Jimin says.

"Hello," Taehyung responds. He turns away again, making a drink order and refusing to look at Jimin.

"Can we talk?" Jimin asks. If there's one thing he wants to fix, it's this.

Taehyung sighs. "I have a break in fifteen minutes. Do you want a drink?"

That's as good a peace offering as any. Jimin sips on a taro milk as he watches Taehyung bustle around, the shop slow at this time.

Finally, when Taehyung finishes, he meets Jimin in the back. "What do you want?"

Jimin deserves this, his narrowed eyes and cold tone. "I just want to apologize. I'm so sorry I haven't been… present lately, I've been going through some shit."

"Okay," Taehyung says. "Thanks, I guess."

"And," Jimin continues on, trying to get everything out. "I wanted to tell you how important you are to me. I'm so grateful to have been able to be your friend. You and the guys, but especially you."

Taehyung softens at that. "It's no problem, Jiminie. Do you want to hang out on Friday?"

Jimin pulls him into a hug as he prepares to leave. "Sure, I'd like that," he says.

Taehyung squeezes him tighter, enough to make Jimin gasp and giggle. "See you then, Jiminie."

"I love you, Taehyung," Jimin says into his shoulder, muffled.

"Love you, too."

-

Jungkook's at his place when he gets back. Jimin feels a flood of relief when he sees him standing there, gazing back at him with those eyes of his. "Hi, Jungkook," he says breathlessly.

"Hello," Jungkook responds. He looks quizzical, unsure, but Jimin wipes the look off his face by stepping forward, grabbing his hand, and kissing him full on the mouth.

"I'm ready," Jimin says, before he can back out.

Jungkook's face breaks out in a dazzling smile, before leaning down to kiss him again. "Good."