Archive of Our Own

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The adult film industry is a funny thing Jimin calls a job.

Beyond the stigma and day-to-day shame pornstars have to go through, it’s fun. There's not much to it besides knowing his angles, following lines of terribly written scripts and listening to the directors' not so frequent guidance, fucking hard and messy. If he follows all that then he gets paid a good sum of money for acting as the pentacle of seduction and submissiveness, which are the roles he gets the most. There’s the pretty outfits and parade of cocks he gets to try with each offer.

Two minutes before starting Jimin shows up with an americano in hand and a plug inside him. The actor he has never worked with doesn't pay attention to his lackluster entrance, too busy oiling his skin with something sparkly that most likely reeks of coconut.

Jimin walks around the set with a fluffy robe wrapped around his frame. He bows to the staff that doesn’t meet his eyes and smiles at the ones he has seen before.

“Mr. Park, off.”

At the director’s request, Jimin rids himself of the robe and sits on the bed, legs crossed.

“I assume you two haven’t met,” the man begins.

A mustache that makes him look creepy and an awful beret atop his head that he must think look oh so professional. If Taehyung saw him he would laugh in his face.

“There’s isn’t much to be said. I don't have time for stutters, pauses or forgotten lines. Let’s get this show on the road. Mr. Han you’re just getting home from work, Mr. Park is on the bed waiting for you. You’re both high caliber so don’t expect me to lead you through it.” And just like that he ends with a dismissive gesture with his hand. 

Jimin clenches his jaw. He is used to the director's lazy directing, so he pays it no mind and remembers he has to buy Bento a couple of treats that will help with potty training. His co-star is gone when he is about to introduce himself and ask about how they should go on about the movie they are about to tape, doesn’t matter either because at the end of the day he had been doing this for three years and every time it’s shooting day he goes over the basic mood of the scene with his manager instead.

The main scene for today is cheating. Which Jimin supposes people like a lot for these days he has been doing quite lot of. The other man— his “spouse”— comes back home to find Jimin on the phone with his secret lover. Jimin doesn’t show any remorse so his husband shows him how to behave.

He had asked before how old his companion is because after seeing a picture of him, Jimin concluded he was at least seventeen but no, he is twenty five.

The man licks a stripe along his neck and in one swift motion pushes inside on him. Jimin squirms on the bed and pushes his lower body back, getting in touch with his acting skills right off the bat.

“You thought you could get away with that, huh? Think I wasn’t gonna find out what my husband does in his free time?”

“Just wanted someone to make me feel like you used to.”

“My greedy lil' bitch just wanted daddy’s dick, huh?”

“Yes, please!”

The scenario is baffling really but he goes with it. Only one recording for today. That makes this hundred times more enjoyable. After leaving the studio he has to buy groceries; even made a list, which should be somewhere in his purse.

“Park, answer!”

The sharp yell of the director cuts through his mind. He even flinches when the man atop of him pulls out and yanks his feet to make him kneel on the floor, bending over the mattress.

“Sorry.”

And then he has a cock back inside, the bed moving as he is drilled. He wonders why they don’t make soft-core porn anymore. 

Oh, well.

“You wanna get filled with my cock until you drip all over yourself? Hm?”

“Fill me up. Yes, fill me up! So good— yes, yes!”

After he cums in his face, he moves aside so they keep pouring even more fake cum everywhere else. Jimin makes this petulant and blissful face as the staff squirts it around while maintaining his eyes rotted on the close camera lens. 

“Daddy tastes so good.”

“Kill the cameras.”

Is the final call for it to end.

“You got cum in my eye.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand and mumbles to the other actor, who’s stepping away and grabbing the closest towel.

“You asked for it.” The other smirks, eyeing him up and down; clearly proud.

Jimin rolls his eyes and untangles from the position, kneeling to stand up, “We’re actors, that's my job but—“

“Then keep acting.” And then the man is out of the studio. 

There’s really no point in arguing any further. He needs to rinse his eyes as soon as possible. It is interesting that after the top comes all cameras are shut off, even the director disappears. He hasn’t had to end in a long time. There’s just something about such a strict and rushed setting that prohibits him from ejaculating so yes, to his advantage no one forces come out of him. But he does have to keep a boner for most of the hour long recording and honestly he does like to feel a dick in him, might not be a fan of hardcore thrusting but he likes getting fucked until all he can do is babble.

He brushes his hair back and cringes as the sweat that slides down his back.

“Oh my God.”

Comes the voice of his manager as he approaches Jimin who is sitting on the bed naked and cold.

“My eye stings.” He whines as he tries his hardest to avoid rubbing the itch away.

“Did they get cum in your eye?!— Again?!” With his face twisted into a scowl, Hoseok covers him with the robe once again and helps him stand and keep him on his feet as they stagger away.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m hungry. We have to go to the supermarket.”

“We can send Tae, don't worry about that.”

His manager is already wiping his face with a baby wipe.

“Are you okay?”

“He really went at it.” Jimin cracks a laugh. “At least it didn’t include a blow job or else I’d have died.”

“I shall have a word with the director.”

“It’s fine, you know it is their job to call the shots and do what they think will be good for the camera. And mine is to adjust. It’s fine, I just need a warm bath and lots of chocolate.”

“I know it’s your job, Minie, but—”

“Don’t even mention the word butt.” He chuckles, wrapping the towel around his waist after haphazardly cleaning his ass and thighs. “Let’s go home.”

Hoseok is one of his best friends, if not the only one but he is also his mom, business partner and seasonal roommate. He has known him since those high school days and then moved cities and rented together for university, which is when they found out about all the opportunities there were for an early adult with horny tendencies to make a living easily. At the beginning Hoseok helped with the set up of cameras and worked his socials, also helped him with the loads of money that were coming in and from one day to the other their small business had grown overnight and blew on their faces.

The man usually isn’t present when he tapes, Jimin knows from his assistant mouth itself that he isn’t fond of witnessing him getting pounded and manhandled like a sex doll. Jimin respects that, appreciates it actually.

Nothing out of the ordinary- or out of the boundaries they discuss happens in set- nothing Jimin hasn’t already agreed to before laying a foot in the company. It has happened a few times though. For example the spit in his eye incident when an asshole spat across his face before giving him a facial. Jimin threw up after punching him, which Hoseok only got to know after the other asshole's publicist informed him. Or the slapping incident where a guy wouldn’t stop slapping his face to the point that he had to run out of set crying as he looked for his manager. That day Jimin realized he had set hell free when Hoseok all but barged in and cursed every single person he laid eyes on— even the microphone crew. They never worked with that particular company again. After that Hoseok stepped into the set but kept his chair backwards not wanting to see it happening. Now though, he inspects every contract word for word and negotiates it to perfection. He doesn’t go on set much but he trusts Jimin to tell him when someone crosses the previously negotiated terms.

Jimin can see that Hoseok is still hanged up on the cum in his eyes so he reaches to grab his hand but remembers he hasn’t showered yet so he drops it, still Hoseok knows what he intended to do and looks up at him.

“It’s fine.”

The older pouts around the words, “It’s red.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll tell them to be extra careful. And I’ll tell Jeong—whatever to practice his shitty aim.”

Jimin can’t help but laugh, his head thrown back. “Fine, you can do that but don’t be too loud.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. The director will also hear me out. Now, let's get going, we gotta wash that dye out before it starts to stick.”

~

He has had five shoots just this month and he’s thriving. It's not always that he gets to work with high-maintenance actors and actresses. Yeah, in his curriculum might say that he’s gay but he can act so he does threesomes and foursomes every blue moon. It's fun, watching everyone orgasm over and over again, even more when he’s the one that causes said orgarms. Now his bum feels like jelly and he has hickies over his thighs.

As he reads along the paragraph of a new contract, his manager interrupts him and nods suspiciously when Jimin glances at him, which tells him a whole lot.

It isn’t really a contract.

The paper simply stipulates what the company that wants to work with him wants. In this case, they want a scene but Jimin’s eyes bug out when he sees that specific word. 

“A solo?” He squawks out. A spark of nerves shoots through him just at the idea that now sounds close to daring.

His manager nods, scanning warily the word as well, as if he had had the exact same reaction. “Seems like it.”

“Haven’t done that in ages.”

It isn't unheard of, of course. However, it is isn’t as marketable no matter how much fame or years of experience you have under your belt. Solo shots are for a very specific type of crowd that Jimin isn't sure he has alongs his supporters.

“I know but you get to have toys. Fun.”

True, but he is still hesitant.

“God, I don’t know. Do I have to finish?”

“Well, of course. That’s the highlight.”

Solo shots… They are interesting. At least he remembers them being fun. Smiles, fake fluttering words, intense touches only for the underwhelming result of a dramatic orgasm or two he has to give himself. The progress of it all it's in his own hands.

“Dammit. Haven’t done that since college.”

“I know. You want me to be there?”

“No, it's fine.” He finally puts the sheet down, gazing around though nowhere in particular. “H-How many people do you think will be there?”

“I am not sure, the usual, I'd guess. The director is famous but he works differently, I can tell you as much.”

“Differently? Do you know him?”

“No, but yes, differently, like I said he likes more personal stuff. Not so staged. I think you’ll like him.”

That brings a laugh out of him because: “There isn’t a thing like liking a director.”

“So what do you think?”

“What do you think?” He echoes the question back to his friend. 

“I think you should answer first. Right now I’m your manager and I need to know you’re comfortable with anything you sign.”

“Hobi…”

“Park Jimin.” He presses.

“I think it could be interesting but I’m also nervous. I don’t know if I can keep a scene alive on my own and at the same time then worry about finishing on my own. At least I got a heads-up”

Hoseok hum, inspecting his cuticles. “Okay, my turn. I think you should get laid.”

“I literally do porn.”

“When was the last time you got laid out of porn?”

And the silence is enough of an answer.

“Yes, since college,” Hoseok reminds him.

How does his best friend know that? Well, Jimin had cried about it when he had one too many shots, and it was before taking porn seriously and he was finishing his secondary career.

So Jimin agrees with a sigh. There’s no reason to lie. But that doesn’t change anything because he doesn’t want a one-night-stand and, at this point in time, his only acquaintances are from the industry. So he ignores the advice and signs the contract, because why the fuck not?

~

The elder has been holding onto his wrist, eyes behind him and snapping his jaw toward every direction for at least ten minutes. Truth be told he looks like he snorted a bag of cocaine before driving them here. Here being the source of Hoseok's anxiety.

“Hobi, I’ll be fine.” He tries to tug his hand but gives up when he feels his friend’s claws dig into his skin. “You said he was rich and famous? I doubt he’s gonna risk his reputation and business by killing me.”

“He could do worse.”

Worse is an understatement for the place the shoot is taking place in. Honestly, Jimin had never expected it to be at night in an abandoned warehouse of all places. He could be walking to a lifetime of slavary or the cover of tomorrow's newspaper, part of his hideous murder all scattered in the crime section. But Hoseok is being serious, too serious if someone were to ask him, but he’s overreacting. A porn director wouldn’t go out of his way to make unwanted advances with well-known actor.

“Worse than killing me?”

The manager groans, tightening his grip to get his point across, “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

The creeps. They’re always roaming around, keeping it low-light enough for them to take advantage of everyone that makes sex their profession. He has never encountered any of them but he has heard plenty of stories about unnecesary touches that turn into bribes.

With a soothing sigh, he pries out of the manager's grip. “I’ll be okay. You’re on speed dial, hyung.”

However his manager only shakes his head, whining as if he knew that would be the only thing kicking some sense into Jimin's thick head.

“This looks shady, Minie.”

“Yup, but maybe it makes… the art more artistic?”

“Park Jimin.”

At the voice, Jimin jumps with a loud curse. Although it felt like he flew mid-air he probably didn’t even lift from the ground. He rubs his chest. Hoseok, also, on alert, tense on the driver's seat. 

The silhouette of a man starts to approach from below the shadow of the building. In times like this Jimin wishes he would have been honest a second ago and agree with Hoseok: this does seem incredibly shady and also they should have brought a gun.

None of them are capable of speaking until the man comes into view, stepping right in front of a frozen Jimin.

Black hair, pale complexion. The couple of blinks they exchange are almost comical. The man is his height, maybe even his age, looking like an angel and mafia boss at the same time.

“Um…”

“Who are you?” Is Hoseok the one that finally shoves Jimin’s ass off the window to get a look at the unknown man.

“Hoseok-ssi, I believe?”

They both slump once he says his name.

“Call me Min—“

“I thought this was a solo shoot.” Hoseok finishes for him and Jimin can’t stop looking at the stranger. In his head the word shady crosses again. Why did they lie to him?

“Excuse me?” He tilts a bit down to look at Hoseok better, in that same movement he leans closer to Jimin and Jimin can’t, for the love of god, stop staring at the soft profile and hipnotic eyes; quite the contrast that is.

“A solo shoot. I shall speak to the director, we agreed this was a solo.” The manager pushes Jimin against the stranger when he opens the door and rushes out of the car. “—These people think they can—”

Jimin hears his hyung speak in the background but he is too busy colliding against a firm chest and pair of arms. His co-star smells like spicy leather and cigarettes.

“— so I don’t understand why—”

“Ah, you must be confused, I’m not an actor, I’m the director.”

The silence that ensues is hysterical. Jimin swears he hears Hoseok’s thoughts dying down, his own along with them. 

“The… director.” Jimin says quietly. Why is he disappointed at that?

“Oh, my apologies.”

The director clicks his tongue. Jimin continues to blatantly stare.

“It’s okay, I’m flattered.” He shows them a smirk that Jimin feels thankful to have witnessed. He turns to the pornstar, looking directly into his eyes. “You must be Park Jimin, correct?”

Jimin nods robotically.

“As for tonight, it is a solo shoot,” he speaks to both of them. “It’s just me here and no, I’m not a creep. Even though that’s what a creep would say." He digs into his jeans pocket to pull a stick, lighting it and his face with the quick spark. "I can’t help but agree with Mr. Park, we have a contract that I assume you have signed if you're in my property. Hoseok-ssi can come as well, I don’t mind.”

He has a cute nose, Jimin points out in his head. 

The director takes a long drag and starts walking towards the door. “I can’t be bothered by formalities like useless staff and way too many people eyeing around something they aren’t even needed for. Those are the real creeps, if you ask me.” He keeps smoking as Hoseok and Jimin trail behind him.

Somehow the nerves dissipate and are replaced with intrigue.

“So you usually film by yourself?”

“That depends."

The director slides the metal door with what seems like a lot of strength even though he has a similar physique to the porn actor himself. 

The place is an art studio, a plain attempt at an open warehouse with minimal industrial decor. It’s mostly empty, only the mattress pushed to the windowed wall which has no curtains. That small detail swirls something akin to naughtiness in Jimin’s belly.

There is equipment set up, lights hanging above the bed. The sheets are haphazardly thrown as if the director himself would have arranged them perfectly, though Jimin doubts it.

“On what exactly?”—Is Jimin the one that finds his voice and says his first coherent thought out loud. 

“On how interesting I find an actor. This may come all sorts of wrong but I find myself attracted to you, Mr. Park, and no, I don’t mean it like you think I do. You’re skilled at capturing an audience, a loyal one at that— And have maintained an interestingly long career for an actor in this... path.”

“So I’m privileged?”

“I trust my skills so yes, call yourself privileged if you wish, I don’t have any problem with it. I just want to see what we can create. I see it almost as a hobby by now, so no, it’s not every day I go out of my way to offer somebody an opportunity like this. And yes, I agree again, the way I shoot makes the art more artistic in my opinion.” The man drops the butt of the cigarette and steps on it. “Feel free to discuss.”

At long last Jimin meets his manager’s eyes. They have known each other for so long that they have a silent conversation just by looking at each other. Hoseok raises his brows, asking ‘What now? What do you wanna do?'

Jimin looks at the director from afar, who’s looking at his phone on the other side of the warehouse. He would be lying his ass off if he says he isn’t interested as well.

He nods as he turns back to his friend. ‘Yes, I want to stay.’ He motions to the door with his chin. ‘You can leave’. Hoseok squints. ‘Are you sure?’ At which Jimin nods again, showing him a reassuring smile. And so he watches Hoseok leave but not before he turns around and points violently to his phone. Jimin giggles, nodding again.

The director eyes are on him again, and Jimin dissolves at the scrutiny, it gets him both giddy and a tad nervous.

“Okay, now that that is done, let’s get this going.”

“Ho-How are we doing it?”

“I’ll just film you, not that much different than the usual way a shoot goes; simply forgoing the hassle: makeup, scripts, the story, and photos.” He lists all of the facts that bore Jimin to death with a funny and lazy mumble, eyes rolling slightly. “I don’t care about that.”

“Okay… yeah.”

The man starts shuffling through the bag for the camera Jimin guesses is supposed to be used tonight. He picks up a large one and a smaller one. Jimin knows nothing about brands but they look cheap though they must be anything but. There’s a tripod in front of the mattress, on which the director hooks the bigger one in, securing it with a few twists and locking it in place. He proceeds to turn it on and program it the way he’s familiar with, for he doesn’t even look at it while he does. 

“I see you don’t work with crew either.”

Jimin snaps out of the haze and puts his bag next to the director’s. “No, just Hoseok and his assistant.”

“Why is that?”

He seems truly invested in the answer, for he turns all the way to look at Jimin.

“Too serious. Unnecessary, I think? My amateur mindset never really left.”

He gives him a curt nod, “Gives a sense of normalcy, doesn’t it?”

“It does, yeah.”

“So, Jimin-ssi, word has it you don’t finish.”

The seriousness in which the director speaks gives Jimin whiplash; not only because of the drastic change of subject but because of what Jimin thinks might be his reputation, and if it is, what the actual fuck?

“I—... what?”

“You don’t orgasm— Not with someone, not a threesome, not girls, not when you bottom. Nothing. Why?” A straight eyebrow quirks, it is not judgmental at all, if anything it’s open to discussion.

“I-I don’t know. I just do what I’m told to do. They never particularly ask me to.”—He pouts the words unintentionally, feeling childish all of a sudden.

“Well, that’s what I need you to do today.”

“Today? I thought… We’re doing this today?”

It was pretty obvious. He knew it as soon as he signed the contract and it had the date specified right there and also knew this was going to happen as soon as he stepped inside the cosy warehouse but he needs some sort of vocal confirmation from the eccentric director.

“You see, Mr. Park, I’m intrigued. Something tells me you don’t like many eyes on you. So what do you think about having only two?”

“Yours.”

“Of course, and my camera. Even though I consider myself professional,” he flicks the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray beside him, “I want to film amateur tonight. Just you and me in a room.”

Jimin ponders about it for a moment, chewing his lips as he does. Mind going elsewhere—

“I won’t be touching you if that’s what you're thinking about, I only film.”

And if I want you to? He doesn’t voice it, just imagines what would happen if he actually said that out loud. His contract would be ripped in his face and maybe he would get sued. 

“You’re the one that’s going to direct me.” 

Oh.

That’s—

“That’s interesting.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’ve never directed anything before.” 

“It’s fairly easy, even more so when you have the freedom that every person aches to have.”

Jimin is impossibly drawn to how nicely the director expresses himself, with such ease he feels oddly safe. 

“Just do what feels right for you and for the video.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

Once the director distracts himself, Jimin takes off his shirt. For the place being so big, he must admit it’s kind of warm inside, or maybe he’s getting horny each time he glances at the mattress and the lights above it.

As he is out of his sweatpants, the director turns to him with a rectangular box.

“I took the liberty to buy a toy, given it would’ve been odd if I asked you to bring your own. It’s average, nothing too crazy.”

Jimin nods and leaves his underwear on as he takes the box from the director’s hands. Just as he was told, it's a normal dildo in the shape of a cock, maybe 4 inches, though it is thick.

“Yeah,” he says dumbly as he opens the box and takes it out.

“There's lube and everything you need right there by the pillow so maybe we can start now?”

“Yeah.” Jimin sounds weak but he goes with it, dropping his last piece of clothing.

The director must have seen his work already, his body, his expressions, probably knows it all or else he wouldn’t have shown interest in this shoot but that does nothing to calm the speed in which his heart chooses to pump when they lock eyes above the camera.

He takes a seat on the center of the mattress. The sheets both cold and soft against his skin and the two tall headlights for one don’t blind him instead they are soothing and low.

“This… um, what exactly should I tell you?” He plays with the toy, simply touching it a bit as he arranges to sit crisscrossed.

The man is now in a chair right behind the tripod, laying back and smoking a new cigarette. “What do directors usually tell you to do?”

“Just follow what the top wants.”

“Then top me."

Jimin gulps audibly.

"You lead, I’ll follow. Don't worry about sounding bossy, I want you to be comfortable.”

“Do we have to change angles often?”

“We don’t have to, it’s usually done for entertainment purposes, but I doubt people don't want a dry angle from you.”

“Okay, I’ll just do this,” he swings the toy. “and you can have freedom, too.”

“I like that.” He smiles and Jimin grins back, tight-lipped but genuine.

And then the director tells him he starts shooting with a simple click.

“Sorry, I’m… a bit rusty...”

“You’re an actor, right? You can do this, there's no pressure.”

“Okay, yeah.” 

For a fact, he knows he’s blushing like crazy, but he attempts to distract himself by glancing at the bed and strategically laying down. He should get his shit together, he’s a professional. Jimin pushes through a brief introduction in which he says what he’s going to do as if he had a live audience though comfortable knowing he doesn't. Surprisingly, he doesn’t make up a character but simply says his name and admits that he’s rather nervous. He doesn’t mention the director at all because it is not relevant to what he’s about to do, but he kind of wants to, feels like he needs to even though he knows the director’s name will be in the credits at the end of the video.

He takes a deep breath and fills his lungs, holds it in and asks, “Should we get started?”—He asks no one in particular; his fans, maybe. But it is the man behind the camera that he sees nod.

“I’ll open myself first, though.”

His heartrate spikes when director’s gaze navigates through his features.

“I usually do this on set but… today it’s different.” He gushes shyly, looking around for the lube but he doesn’t find it. “Where’s the lube?”—He whispers behind his hand, staring at the director, who’s eyes go wide as he searches for the bottle thrown on the sheets.

“Here.” 

He has to keep asking the dumbest thing if he wants to hear that deep smokey voice while he’s at it.

He picks it up once the director points at it and pumps some in his palm, rubbing it between his fingers to warm it up. He choses an easy postion for now: on his fours, facing the camera directly.

As arduous as stretching himself is when he is about to film, he feels blissful when he familiarly slips two fingers inside. He feels a rush of anticipation crawling up his spine when he hears the director clear his throat and tries to picture the man's face if he were to have his slicked hole in the lense. He slides his fingers deeper, adding another when he pulls them out and back in again.

“Maybe… Maybe that’s good enough.” He’s already hard, harder than most times, his hole asking for something bigger in him. Slicking his rim with an abundant amount of lubricant; it’s heavenly. Doing it for the camera as if he were giving a real hand-job to the thick toy, he looks at it and then at the lense, looking with hooded eyes.

“Want it in me so bad.”

The heat in his lower stomach burns, unforgivingly spreads through him with anticipation. Just as he is about to lean, parting his lips to let the toy enter his salivating mouth— 

“Cut.”

The voice comes abruptly.

Jimin flinches. For a second he imagined himself alone. He waits for another indication as the director gazes around the mattress and at Jimin who is kneeling right in the middle of it, naked in all his glory as he lowers the toy to his lap. 

“What?” 

The director’s perfect eyebrows furrow into a small frown as he thinks—“Maybe not that.”

He cocks his head to the side, straightening upward to meet the director’s gaze.

“Why not?” Again, he feels whiny but he really wanted to feel something in his mouth.

“The video is about fourteen minutes long, so maybe let’s keep it short?”

“Oh, okay, sounds good.” He already sounds elated.

“Okay, I’m recording again.” 

“I’m too eager to wait. What do you think, hm? Should we go straight into it?” He does, however, swing the toy until it rests against his lips, giving the camera a cheeky grin, kissing right at the tip. “It’s big, isn’t it? We'll have to see if it fits.” 

It fits, Jimin comes to find when he turns around and lines the toy with his tight entrance. The head pushes through the ring of muscles with a hint of difficulty but easier when it starts to sink. Jimin pants by the time it starts to effortlessly slide in.

“It’s… it’s so big but—” he whimpers as he rolls his hips down, falling on the mattress but holding himself with his hand in front of him. “¡Fuck!” He moves slowly but the pace shifts naturally, the toy stretches him widely and he loves it.

“Di-Director, should-should I change position?” He slows until he stops altogether, waiting a beat or two to hear the man behind the camera.

“If you want.”

So he does. Sighing, he lifts from the dildo, twitching under the director's gaze. He lays on his back, cock resting on his hip; hard and aching. He rubs it with his palm, teasing the head with a few lazy strokes. There’s precum dotting the slit, which brings it to his lips to have a taste. He has to wait for second for scene to be complete and speak to the director again.

“What if you film me closer? The, um, camera is so far away.”

And the director does as Jimin directs. His tummy flips when the equipment unlocks. The camera is lifted from the tripod and then carried by the stupidly handsome man until he bumps the edge of the mattress with his shoes. Jimin stares as he hunches over him, focusing the lense. 

“Ready.”

Jimin can’t speak anymore, having the director so close is making him needy and even harder if possible so he nods and takes himself in his palm sluggishly, just at the right pace. His breathing begins to have a weight to it, sounding ragged as he keeps stroking diligently. “Wish you’d get inside me right now. I’m sure you’d make me feel incredible.” He bats his eyelashes innocently, a relieved sigh pouring out.

He lifts his knee upwards and lines the toy with his clenched hole, pushing.

“Maybe another time?” At this point he has no idea who he’s talking to but he lets himself dream and speak nonsense. He has always been skillful with every part of his body but now he prides himself on his wrists, one flicking his cock tightly and the other moving the toy at the same pace, pleasure taking over both his front and back. The director moves with stealth, agile as he steps away and closer. Jimin can’t see if he’s zooming the lense or not but he doubts it because sometimes he comes so close Jimin thinks he is about to be touched by those pale, wide hands. It doesn't happen though, but the mini heart attacks never cease.

“Shit, I won’t last much longer. You-You wanted me to finish, right?” He drags the toy slower, leaving it all the way in to tap his swollen prostate again and again, instinctively throwing his head back with a shameless cry.

“Wa-Wanted to see me cum all-all over myself, hm? I-I can do that.” He makes eye-contact with the camera, though only pictures the intense eyes behind it. “Wanted to have me here, just-just for you?” He laughs at whatever words leave his mouth right this second and pushes the dildo back again, swift when it comes to the pace. “Fuck! Fuck—” the palm around him strokes with purpose.

He would love to be sucking the director’s cock, have him tapping the weeping head against his pursed lips. But all he can do is move his hips, sink the lifeless and cold toy deeper.

Succumbing into his dark want right now, Jimin calls for him.

“Hy-Hyung…” He twists until he can press his cheek to the mattress, ass up and back bent. He reaches behind, pushes the toy back in, slowly opening himself wider and lets his imagination run wild. 

“Feels s-so good. Wanna cum for yuh-you.” 

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to come to the bare conclusion that he isn’t doing it for the camera.

“Please, I-I wish it was you!” And he cries a whimper when he realizes that yes, he wishes the director would drop his camera and take him in this very position, pound into him and leave him sobbing. 

“Hyungie, please—"

He doesn’t know which moans are real and which are not. It doesn’t matter, not right now, not when he’s about to come in front of only one stranger; a stranger that he happens to want badly. The never-ending rush of pleasure and heat surge inside of him and eat him alive. The moment blends with pure delirium when he hears him again. 

“Faster.”

He smothers a cry by biting his lips as he feels the build of his orgasm. It happens fast, it takes over his sounds, his body trembles, his balls tighten. He keeps going, thrusting the toy inside and crying desperately. His cock jerks and spits all over, a splotch of semen landing on his jaw. Jimin smiles maniacally, falls on the bed and hisses once he takes the dildo out. 

“Shit, so fuckin’ good!”—He chuckles. He’s sweating all over and his limbs feel like jelly but he looks for the sheet and wraps in it. He knows he can’t fall asleep but just for a moment he floats in that blissful headspace.

“Cut. Are you okay?”

He inhales and exhales deeply, “Such pretty voice… ‘m okay, Director Min.”

“I’ll bring stuff for you to clean up.”

“I know you said that about staff being unnecessary but Hoseokie always cleans me. ’m too lazy.”

“They’re not unnecessary but a bit…”

“Crowded?”

“Yes.”

Jimin opens his eyes to meet the director. The man is leaning above him with a towel in hand. But what Jimin doesn’t see is that he also has a wet towel in the other. That talk about the way the director shoots, gave Jimin a sense of how he is as a person, maybe he expected a bit romantically soft-hearted to people he cares about and business only to those he paid, but when the man kneels close to him and wipes his jaw and cheek ever so gently, Jimin’s heart beats with the notion that maybe he was wrong and Director Min is nothing but simple guy in the end.

“There.”

When the director deems his face clean enough he goes back to his chair and lights a new stick. Jimin unwraps himself and sits, brushing his hair back with his fingers so he doesn’t look so debauched.

“Is there a bathroom in here?” 

“No. Not yet.”

“I know you have already seen my at my worst but could you…”

He turns with another one of those soft smiles. “Yeah, privacy. Sorry.”

Jimin, suddenly bashful, has a hard time cleaning himself. Feels as if he shouldn’t be so shameless even if the director isn’t looking. Maybe he should have accepted his manager’s advice about getting laid because like that he would have lived what it felt like leaving that one-night-stand’s house after having sex and wouldn’t have to be feeling it right here when he just shot a masturbating scene with a porn director and his legs are trembling and he is covered in his own cum.

“So did you rent this place or is it yours?”

“It’s mine.”

“For what?”

He cleans himself, as well as he can at least. The semen comes easily, though the lubricant is a bit greasy so he has to rub it for a while, leaving the skin a tad red.

“I like to take pictures and I also enjoy being alone.”

Jimin huffs a laugh—“You’re weird.”

“I promised the mattress wasn’t here before. That’s a new addition bought for this... evening.”

Jimin gulps, sparing said mattress a glance. “But it has no bathroom.”

“I’m working on it.”

“That’s good news then. I like this place… Feels sorta safe? I don’t know what it is exactly.”

“I like it, too, it's nice. Just have to figure out how to make it more home-y. Let’s do some possible thumbnails before you get dressed.”

“I’m not hard, though.” Jimin comes back to the mattress and sits on the bed, looking for the director’s gaze.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, so how do you want me?” 

That came out too straightforward but Jimin doesn't think about it too much.

The man stays silent for a moment, a long jarring moment. 

“Turn around.” 

Jimin does exactly that, already getting an idea as to what the director wants. Would want. Kneeling, he gives the camera his back, making sure to straighten his posture to elongate his spine. He knows he looks good like this; his waist tiny and hips wide thanks to his bum resting on his ankles.

He hears the shutter once. 

“Lean a bit.”

He leans forward, shifting his weight to his bum and placing a palm in front him to get the angle he knows the director is after. The shutter goes off three times from different sides. First to the right then to his left and another one to the center. He makes sure to arch his back and tilt his head in the slightest so his side profile teases the photograph. He doesn’t smile or frown; either gazes ahead or meets the lens with hooded eyes.

“Someone is calling you.”

The deep, honey voice grabs Jimin of that dreamy blissfulness. What a nice voice to do that. He hums an asking sound.

“Your phone, someone’s ringing you.”

He blinks a few times and is quick to wrap a towel around his shoulders and sprint to the phone in wobbly legs; picking up instantly. It’s Hoseok, apparently his assistant got food poisoning and had to go to the ER because he couldn’t stop throwing up so he can’t pick him up. 

“Just keep me updated on Tae, please?”

“Of course, Minie. How’s the shoot going?”

“Good, like… trust me. I’ll tell you later.” He hangs up with his head dropped between his shoulders. “Shit.” He is still  gittery and overwhelmed. The good kind.

He pockets his phone and stands, going back to the mattress only to find the director's eyes on him. In a moment of clarity, Jimin wonders out loud—“How do you know me?”

“You’ve worked with a branch of my company before and I’ve seen your work— your old and new work. Just wanted to shoot and meet you, I guess.”

“And what now?”

“What about what?”

“We shot, I came. Was that it?”

“Yes.”

Jimin swallows. Why was he expecting more?

“Why do you do porn?” The man is shifting a few buttons, changes lenses. The question comes as a second thought, catching Jimin off guard.

“I like it… helps me make ends meet.” He drops the towel and lays on his back this time, where the his feet meets the cold floor though he rests above the fluffy sheets. He’s closer to the director like this.

“Ends meet.”—He hears him utter, incredibly softly.

“Yeah.”

“What ends? I’m sure you earn plenty for spending a lifetime in comfort, you’re not new to this, quite famous actually. You can survive without it.” 

That tips Jimin the wrong way. What is he getting at? The shutter clicks just as Jimin is thinking about it. It’s focused on his face instead of his body. He wishes there was a monitor so he could see the pictures.

“Why do you do this then?”

He arranges his position again, a tad awkward, for the director follows his every move closely. “I like it.”—He says immediately.

“Mr. Park I’ve been in this industry long enough to know fake dye and contact lenses.”

His jaw clenches in place, he forbids himself from rolling his eyes. “So what about it?"

“You’re hiding, you changed your style, why?”

So what if he wants to keep parts of himself to himself and his loved ones?

“What’s your name?”

“Sug—”

“Your real name.”

They make eye contact then. Jimin holds his breath when those eyes flicker over his face before staying on his eyes.

“Yoongi.”

He follows each syllable from the owner's mouth, each small sound that he makes.

“Well, Yoongi, I don't think that’s any of your business.” If someone were to ask him why he just said that they would get no answer at all.

“Sweet talker; isn’t that wholesome?” 

That smirk again. Jimin doesn’t know if is dismissive or pitying but he hates it, feels immensely patronizing. 

“Are we done with this?” He shifts to cover himself more, suddenly unsure of the back and forth. He brushes his hair back and hears another picture being taken. “I have to go.”

“I apologize if I took you the wrong way. You can leave anytime,” the director shrugs unaffected.—“Forgive me for keeping you to myself.”

He gathers his things, quickly throws his sweater on and slips inside his sweatpants. It became a usual throughout this evening for him to not know what he does the things he does, but he isn’t even surprised when he slides the metal door to the side and leaves the studio without another word.

~

“So the video was a success. A shocking success.”

Is it his manager the one that drags him out of bed and to the sofa, where he places a fresh and colorful Acai bowl in his palm and sits on the carpet brushing Bento’s blonde hair. On the bowl Jimin spots strawberry yogurt, banana slices, watermelon cubes. He dives in.

“Suga really…”

Jimin glances from the labrador to Hoseok, spoon about to enter his mouth. He snaps, “Really what?”

“Made you come!”—He beams, yanking a ball of hair on the hairbrush and putting it aside to keep brushing down Bento's tail.

Jimin grunts and shoves the spoonful inside his mouth. “What the hell, Hobi? He didn’t do anything.”

He had heard the news before. Well, saw. A pornstar never loses track of their projects no matter how insignificant they may seem. Hoseok is the one that updates him for the most part but Jimin was curious so he took it upon himself to look for porn sites and porn news outlets, even spied the director’s twitter page where he retweeted the video from his own company, thing Jimin saw he never did with others he had worked with. Last time he checked (three days ago) the video had gathered a total two million views, on his way to being a high debut for the strange duo nobody expected to drop that sort of soloist film.

“Well, he made you four times more famous than before. Opportunities are piling, Minie. Taehyung is going crazy. You should buy him a coffee.”—He points out at the end how hardworking the ‘kid’ has been and that he deserved an extra caramel pump for that.

“I pay your rent.” Jimin scowls, though wonders how many views the video has now.

“And we do love that, but we’re a three-man business here. Our little company is an enterprise now. And—”

“Get the damn coffee.” His hyung laughs, cackling as he reaches for his phone, waking Bento in the process. “Three of them.”—He mumbles and adds that he also wants an extra pump.

“Yes, your majesty.”

After going for a walk, Jimin showers as soon as he gets home. He feeds the pooh bear that always trails after him, and feeds himself. He makes himself a small steak and carbonara and eats while watching a Halloween movie even though it’s spring. Bento jumps onto bed and cuddles right next to him.

Tae: Minie

Me: What’s up?

Tae: Did you watched the video?

Me: No

Did you?!

Tae: No, but you should watch it

Me: Why? I was there

Tae: Hobi told me you were curious about Min’s style too. You should see the ending product

 Someone sent me timestamp and I heard a snippet. I think you should watch it

And so he opens his laptop and enters pornhub. He finds it after typing his name. They hadn't discussed the title but now he smiles as he reads it. 'Alone-time'

The video is an odd quality. The day they filmed, he noticed the equipment was unlike anything he had witness before. It was old- old as in nineties technology. Hence it’s a nice surprise to find out it worked, giving the video a homey vibe, amateurish. The angles are perfect, the sounds, the focus. It starts simple, a few ambience shoots here and there to show the display of the place then there’s Jimin on the bed. It was a good call that Yoongi chose to have him fully naked, for it looks so natural it feels as if it had been a dream. 

In the tape, he whines when he peers at the camera, lazily starts touching himself more and more. In actuality he doesn’t remember what had him so horny. He has a suspicion it was nothing, just the mood of that night, the silence, the camera on him and the only set of eyes that witnessed him being vulnerable.

“Ready.”

He is shocked to his core when he hears him.

Yoongi didn’t cut the parts where they communicate between them. That’s what Taehyung meant. Yoongi didn’t cut anything besides the two times he said ‘cut’.

Jimin wishes he could see him, as if someone had been filming both of them. He had been so in his head that night that he couldn’t take it all in at once. 

He has seen himself on the screen before, but now he looks wrecked. This isn’t even acting. He finds, he is literally enjoying every bit and it translates perfectly because even now he can feel what he felt that night like a week old sunburn. It’s under his skin, his own touches, the director’s voice, the times they cut and Yoongi shifted to uncover or cover a sliver of skin. He remembers how one time he touched his ankle when he moved the sheet, remembers the shiver that took over him and the shameless moan that was beyond him to retrain. 

“I wish it was you inside me.”

Fuck, he had been so blunt.

He’s blushing on the screen of his laptop, sweating lightly. He looks good, desperately needy and ready. 

“Faster.”

The video is good, but Jimin doesn’t get hard by the end of it, however he does get a bit hot for thinking about the person holding the camera. It’s understandable that it has five million views by now. As expected Yoongi’s name is on the credits as well as his own. It feels special that it’s just their names on the screen. 

After that he stalks whatever page he finds with the name Min Suga and Min Yoongi. He doesn’t find much and he ignores the articles about drama - which aren’t many - and the ones that refer to the director as a celebrity of sorts. He also avoids articles about their video - which are plenty - and tries to look for Yoongi’s personal account, which he doesn’t find. 

Hobi: ‘Call me asap.’

The notification that interrupts his investigation says. He does and Hoseok yells through the speaker, the only thing Jimin catches is ‘another!’

“Hobi, calm down, geez.” His hyung quiets down, only leaving heavy breathing.

”They want a full forty minute video with a partner.”

“Huh? A full video?” Jimin frowns. He thought Yoongi did things differently. “Damn.”

“You’ll make millions.”

“Was Director Min involved in any of this?”

“I don’t think so, it was his company the one that contacted us but not his own personal brand like last time.”

Jimin hums.

~

The day he is about to become even richer it’s nothing but awkward. There are people coming and going, cameras everywhere- at least five ready to shoot any moment. His heart is beating wildly. His co-star is touching up his makeup and… and Director Min…

Min Yoongi is looking at him.

Jimin bows after meeting his eyes. He smiles though bites said smile. He is about to approach the director when someone comes into view and starts talking with him. Yoongi glances at the person to acknowledge them but his eyes return to Jimin flashing him a barely-there curl of his lips. Jimin bows again and goes to the makeup station. This time it isn’t the director that runs them through the scene, it is his assistant in training. 

It’s a simple scene. An ‘in love’ one. They ought to make love and Jimin can’t stop the snort when he sees 'love' followed by 'submits to dominant'. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly when they tell him. He feels the director’s gaze on him.

Everything moves fast after the briefing. They move to a huge bed and start filming the introduction scenes and showing the audience how in love they are. His co-star is handsome and well-built, has a face that any modeling company would beg for and a body anybody drool over.

He shouldn’t have snorted, because at the beginning is gentle, oh so gentle. The kisses and intimate position are new to him, the sweet words he mutes but the touches are driving him mad.

He likes it a bit too much.

And even more when he finds himself pleasantly surprised to find Min Yoongi isn't on that tall chair, he’s on the sidelines, attentive like he was in their shoot.

As every porn video ever he doesn’t need to stretch, he already did and simply takes the plug before the next scene starts; which by the time it does he is being eaten and on his knees, chest pressed to the mattress. He blinks tears out of his eyes when the man starts to sink into him. Jimin’s mind spirals when he thrusts, the shaft hard and big.

He meets Yoongi’s eyes all too abruptly, abruptly enough for him to moan loudly, almost jarringly. But he can’t help it. The director's face and the cock inside him, it’s impossible not to join the two and simply let himself enjoy every bit of it.

“Harder! Ha—Shit, harder!”

The snap becomes harder, swiffer. The guy is spanking him over and over again; the sounds echoing and molding with Jimin’s broken cries. Jimin whimpers at the tingly burn and the fast pace. The director hasn’t moved an inch from where he is. A few people walk between their locked gazes, but are quick to move. The director looks pissed, as if he was holding his breath from anger. 

“Hy-Hyung—Fuck!”

In a sharp thrust that punches the air out of his lung with a sob, Jimin bunches up the sheets and reaches for Yoongi. 

“¡Please!"

In reality Yoongi is far away and Jimin can’t move, for the man owns his hips at the moment, pounding deliciously fast, but he knows the director can see how his arm extends and his fingers twitch his way.

“Cut.”

Yoongi speaks incredibly loud. The command isn’t ignored. Everything stops. The only sounds are Jimin whimpering from pleasure and his co-star heaving atop him. The assistant director sighs from somewhere in the room but Jimin isn’t capable of looking back.

As soon as the man inside him pulls out, Jimin slumps on the bed, whining as he rolls to lay on his back. His erection is painful by now, and he wants to reach to relieve himself but chooses not to when he hears Director Min himself speaking,

“This isn’t working. Mr. Park here calls himself a professional.” He cocks his head. “And Mr. Kang believes he’s a rookie.”

Both actors stay silent. Jimin hears Yoongi’s footsteps as he comes closer to the bed. “I think maybe another time.”

Kang looks down and stands up, leaving Jimin completely exposed to the director and to everyone else but most importantly; the director.

“But-But you booked me.” Jimin snaps, all the eyes in the room turn to him. He rushes to cover himself with the first sheet he sees.

“A mistake.”

“Excuse me, what was the problem exactly?”

“You two are wasting my time and money.” He flicks the cigarette, the ash falls on the carpeted floor and Jimin sees red when he avoids his gaze. His mouth pops open with an array of insults though Kang beats him, 

“Get me another partner then.”

“I will. As for you,” the director glances back at him. “I think we're done here.”

Jimin groans when tears cloud his vision. 

What the actual fuck is happening?

Frantically, he looks around the room to locate his manager but finds only strangers. Earlier he told Hoseok he could have the day off because he trusted Yoongi and he was going to be okay on his own. He feels so embarrassed it hurts, hurts even more when everyone stays quiet; expecting him to continue the argument. But he doesn’t do anything. He can’t, so he grabs the robe and runs out of the room.

He quickly changes and leaves the building with hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

~

“The video has been trending for four weeks.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches when he remembers that dark time in his life. That director seemed so put together that first time and then he blew that cover up by humiliating him in front of an entire film crew.

“Would you like to film by yourself?”

He stops chewing the end of the pen. “What is it with that question, Hobi?”

“I’m curious, you told me that you haven’t been enjoying shooting with other people for quite some time.”

By now they have grown used to organizing bills and jotting down grocery lists while talking about his job. Hoseok keeps staking the colorful papers by date, “You were beginning to feel good but that dumb director shut it down. I wonder if you’d like to, now that you have creative liberty over your body and how you profit from it, shoot however you want to.”

“Maybe I should start considering it, right?”

“I mean you can make plenty of more money and wouldn’t have to deal with asshole directors nor actors. Wouldn’t have to take orders and it’ll benefit you in your path to climaxing again.”

His manager’s assistant knocks once he is inside, wearing a cute cardigan and dress slacks, as well as his permanent square grin.

“Hello, beautiful gentlemen. This is for you.” 

It’s the usual bouquet of flowers, all different and incredibly vibrant and he carries a box of chocolates. He has been receiving one each Sunday.

Taehyung gives Jimin the flowers and he takes the box for himself, unwrapping it and diving in as soon as he plops on the couch after giving his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

“This one is different.”—He mumbles with a chocolate stain on the corner of his mouth; which Hoseok cleans with a napkin.

“Why?”

“For once I caught the boy who delivers them on the entry. He’s stunning.” He nods to himself as if approving all over again about the boy’s appearance. “And it has a card.”

At that small fact Hoseok looks up from his phone instantly, Jimin stops staring at the pretty sunflower to meet his friend’s gaze.

“What?”

“A card, you know the one they sign and shit.”

“We know what a card is, Tae. Where is it?”

He searches his cardigan pocket and throws it at Jimin's lap. 

Congratulations on four weeks

—Yoongi

“So… who's this Yoongi?”—Taehyung wonders, proving he read it beforehand. 

“The… The director.”

Hoseok jumps out of his seat, snatching the card from Jimin’s fingers.

“The audacity!”

On the sixth week another bouquet reaches Jimin’s house. 

“Is he gonna keep sending them forever?”—He asks out loud, petting Bento’s head from where he snoozes between his legs.

“Maybe not forever.”—Taehyung hums in thought, pausing the movie they are watching to turn to him. “You know the trending page is calculative but you’re bound to drop anytime, Mimi.”

“Gee, thanks.” He smiles when Bento snorts as if he had been offended as well. 

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“They’re nice flowers though. And amazing chocolates!”

“Tell him to stop sending them.”

“Why?”

“Because I get it we made a successful video now he should leave me alone.”

“I can’t tell him to fuck off just like that. Do you know how much money he made us?”

“I worked on that too! It’s my face people click on!”

“But the director they recognize and support.”

“He’s annoying.”

Taehyung leaves the loft late at night, just in time for Jimin to get into bed and cuddle his dog. Bento choses to curl on his legs and Jimin covers him with his own pink duvet that has paws all over. He checks his phone for a bit and is about to buy a humidifier online when a call comes through.

The ID is unknown but something pushes him to slide the green button.

“Hello?”

“Park Jimin.”

Jimin lowers his phone, covering the speaker with his hand. “Hoseok, what the actual fuck. You’re so fired.” He shrieks and in a hurry hangs up. The call comes again. He shouldn’t pick up. But he does. 

“Stop avoiding me.”

The nerve this man has!

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I offend you by not wanting to talk to you, Director Min?!” He shuffles angrily on the bed, kicking Bento’s hind leg in the process, the animal doesn’t even twitch.

“You’re upset.”

“I know and you are rude!”—He yells louder than intended. “I’m sorry, what is it, Director Min?”

“Did you get the flowers?”

“The dozens of them? Yes.”—He grumbles lowly, glaring at the wall. “Speaking of, I think you should stop sending them.”

“Why?”

“Why do you send them to begin with? I’m sure you don’t send it to people you worked with and if you do then that’d be incredibly creepy.”

“No, I don’t. But also I don’t yell at them out of nowhere, or make them cry.”

Jimin stays quiet. He hears the director sigh on the other end of the line. He sighs too, sagging against his pillows.

“Is that it?”

“I want to apologize. I thought maybe you’d get curious and contact me yourself but it didn’t work so…”

“So…”

“So I’m calling you and this is weird and unprofessional.”

“Why… why did you stop the filming? Was I really doing a bad job?…”

“You-You were..."

Oh, did he just made the director stutter?

"It… Was he hurting you?”

“What?”

“Were you in any pain?”

Jimin stops breathing after hearing the strange reasoning. Hurt? The man thought they were being too rough with him?

“You thought—” 

He cuts Jimin off almost immediately—“I’m sorry. I’m calling to apologize only. Clearly, I misinterpreted the situation and I took it out on you. Forgive me, Mr. Park. I’ll stop sending the flowers, I promise. Have a good night.”

And the it’s quiet again.

~

“Word got out that the solo shoot was exactly that: a solo shoot with a simple camera and Suga as the director.”

“So you’re telling me,” he pauses to clear his throat. “That word got out that I fucked myself and only Min Yoongi was there out of the entire porn industry and their crews?”

His manager nods, not meeting his gaze at all. “Yes.”

“So what, it's not like people don’t do that.” 

“Well, they in fact don’t. Least of all a famous director and a porn actor at their peak.”

Jimin pretends to be paying attention to the explanation but truly, he couldn’t care less. He has a shoot in less than an hour and he should be fingering himself instead of thinking of the director with that infuriating smirk and even more infurating mix-signals.

“Ugh,” his manager groans outside of the bathroom. “They want it again.”

Jimin stops moving. Ever so carefully he takes his fingers out of himself. “Excuse me?”

“Your audience wants another video and if we’re gonna move paths to begin a simpler career then I think we should do it.”

“He made me cry in front of everyone!”—Rage seeping in the form of an angry, embarrassed blush.

“Everyone has already seen you sobbing, Minie.” Hoseok reasons, pacing back and forth behind the door.

“It wasn’t that kind of crying. He… he scolded me and practically fired me!”

“And he keeps sending you flowers!”

“He’s mean!”

“He’s your way out to a simpler life! No schedule, no asshole actors that think they’re the shit, no hickies, nor rushed fingering! And, Jimin, it would mean no more semen in your eyes ever again! He’s your way out and your way to make it big. A big goodbye and an even bigger hello!”

“Since when are we like singers? Why do people want us to collaborate?!”

“They’re horny for you, and Suga is quite the catch... Everyone would love to see him wrecked but they can’t have that so they want you. They ache for that romantic— or well, familiar connection to ease their darkest fantasies!”

It makes sense. Kind of…

“So they want Suga to fuck me or me to fuck him but Yoongi isn’t a pornstar so we can’t and so they want him to film me while I fuck myself in front if him?”

“We’ll get richer!”—Hoseok sounds defeated at this point.

“This isn’t about the money!”—He screams a lungful of stress.

“He apologized, didn’t he?”

Goddammit, he forgot he had snapped after the call with the director. He had immediately called Hoseok for giving Yoongi his number. Turns out it wasn’t Hoseok, it was Taehyung, of course! 

“No…”

“Minie.”

“Fine, yes. He did. He thought I was in pain when I was shooting the other scene.”

A beat of silence passes and then ever so quietly, “Were you?”

“¡No! I was liking it… a lot. I was…”

“You were…?”

“It’s not important. I can’t shoot with him again, Hobi. That’s my final—”

“Minie, you were what?”—He presses.

“He was… right there in front of me and… I was thinking of him. I-I fucking called for him.”

“Holy fuck.”

“I’m not… I can’t—”

“You like him.”

“—shoot with him again. It’ll be so unprofessional and disgusting. Like, the first time was okay because he was just hot and I didn’t know him—”

“You like him, shit.”

“—but the other day it was intensional, like… I… He knows too. He has to know, right?”

“I don’t know that.”

He comes to a decision right then and there.

“Let's give it a bit of time, all right? Let people forget about it and we’ll move on like nothing ever happened.”

“Jim—”

“Hobi, please.”

“Okay, yeah.”

After the shoot he ends up sore and with scratches over his back, as well as a red cheek. He came this time, didn’t even have to force himself. It was good, he thinks as he showers the cum off his hair as well as the black dye. Once he is out, he grabs his phone to lower the volume of his playlist but ends up eyeing a text from a number that isn’t in his contacts list.

Unknown: Do you want the shoot?

Me: I thought you contacting me like this was unprofessional

Unknown: It is, but your manager doesn’t answer mine and as the boss I need to know if my clients want to work again or not

He hesitates for a long time and in the end reckons there are some thing he wants to make clear.

Me: Let’s do this over coffee. We need to discuss this.

Min Yoongi: As you wish

~

He spots Yoongi on a table far in the corner of the café. Jimin drools when he sees what the director has the audacity to wear: a fucking suit. A plain one without a tie but that doesn’t make it any less formal. He is fidgeting his fingers, and his legs are crossed one over the other. Jimin, on his end, is wearing a simple sweater and black dress pants. He feels so underdressed but this isn’t a date so he shakes those thoughts away.

The director straightens upon seeing him; a small smile he bites back that Jimin wishes to see.

“I was starting to think—” 

“I wouldn’t show up, yeah, yeah.”

He shouldn’t be so rude, he feels the need to apologize but he is mad! So he keeps his head tall.

“I was having my doubts, didn’t want you to scream at me again.”

Yoongi deflates with a sigh, “For the record I didn’t scream.” He picks up his americano and takes a sip, the liquid makes his lips a bit wet.

Jimin pulls the chair and takes a seat, “It was loud enough to me.”

Yoongi groans, bumping his forehead on the table. “Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

Jimin suppresses a grin. “Why…?”

“I… I just— You looked like a mess. And the sounds… he wouldn’t stop.”

He lets silence fall over them for a bit, enough to mortificate the director and make him glance up.

“I get that. It happens to Hoseok, too, you know. He is overprotective and we fought about this all the time.” He crosses his legs and leans his chin on his palm. “That's why he stopped coming with me into the actual set while taping. I know what I’m dealing with, I agree with everything that the contract discloses, Yoongi. If I know I don't want something, I can speak for myself. I just want to know why you were mad at me.”—He mumbles the last part, a bit self-conscious about having the director so close once again.

A guy comes to take his order at that same moment. Jimin asks for a lemon cheesecake and a cappuccino.

“I wasn’t mad at you, just confused.”

“About what?”

“About why you didn’t stop looking at me.”

So he noticed. Of course he did. It wasn’t like Jimin ever tried to be subtle.

“I’m sorry. I was starting to feel familiar with you.” What an excuse. “Honestly, I don’t know why I feel so… attracted to you.”

And that attraction multiplies when he sees pink, all of a sudden, taking over the man’s cheeks.

“Oh.”—Is all the Yoongi says.

His order comes to the table and he gushes about how pretty the cheesecake looks. Yoongi stares and Jimin might be flushed but he takes a bite of the dessert without a single care.

“Want some?”

Yoongi nods and Jimin slides the small plate towards him. The elder picks up the spoon and takes a bite.

“I want to start shooting solo.”

He receives the plate once again and tries not to think about how they are sharing a spoon. Not a date, Jimin! He screams at himself.

“Like just on my own.” He feels the need to divert the conversation, straining away from one that they should have.

“Streaming?” Yoongi takes another sip from the cup.

“No, still video but I call the shots.”

“That’s…”

“That’s what you were getting at, weren’t you? With mentioning my first videos and comparing them to now.”

“Yeah. The way I see it, it’s a bit incongruous. I wasn’t prying but I was curious, made me think if you were actually uncomfortable I wanted to meet you and see where that would lead to.” Jimin keeps digging into the tasty cheesecake, sipping his cappuccino. “I lost myself for some time too, shot like any other director and didn’t care about what I was creating but then it got boring, confusing, and I knew I wasn’t even doing it for myself anymore, or for money. I was in it because it’d become a routine. I don’t want that burn out for you. You're talented and I like that you enjoy what you do, but if taping the way pornstars do it makes that light go away then you can always go back to your roots and start again.”

Jimin thinks through all of that as he chews, playing with the dollops of whipped cream on top. Yoongi’s right, maybe it’s burnout. Most likely he has grown used to doing it as a ‘job’ not as something he truly enjoyed like in the beginning.

“Why do you direct porn?”

“I graduated from film school and recorded my girlfriend once. She went viral and after we broke up I contacted a company and they took me in. They thought I was there to audicion but in the end they said I was too pretty to be behind a camera.”—He laughs softly. “I started to film for a friend that got into that field and then escalated from there.”

“A white collar of pornography.”

“I’m not a white collar.”

“You’re wearing a suit.”

“I had my best friends' wedding rehearsal. Whatever.” He gazes away shyly, smiling faintly.

“You look handsome.” Their eyes meet and Jimin clears his throat, “Are we doing this then?”

Yoongi shoots him a stunned glance, nodding, “Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

“Right now?”

“Before I change my mind, yes.”

“Shit, okay! You’re blonde, though.”

“Baby steps!”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re the rich one, Director Min. You tell me.”

“You have money, too.”

“I also have a hairy one-year-old labrador that likes to cuddle as soon as I get home.”

“Fine, mine then.” The older man relents, rolling his eyes sassily.

They pay their bills and leave the small coffee shop. Jimin smirks but soon after gasps, grabbing Yoongi’s shoulder to stop him.

“Wait, do you have sex toys?”

“I mean,” he thinks for a long moment; seemingly sheepish all too suddenly. “I have mine.”

Jimin’s eyes widen comically. Someone should have warned him but oh well, he'll keep that mental image to himself for the time being. Definitely hot. Hotter than it should be, finding out the directior has sex toys of his own.

“Oh… wow. Okay. Let’s get one on the way there, I know the best shop ever.”

He starts pushing the director along the sidewalk towards the shop, for a moment he ponders if should grab his hand but decides not to, instead he rushes past him. 

“Really?”—Yoongi says louder, hurrying in his steps to catch up with him.

“Of course, would you want me to use your toys, Director Min? I don’t think so.” He laughs at the shock on Yoongi’s face.

The store is a small one in the corner of the mall. They know Jimin because one thing he loves about knowing his body so well is that he experiments a lot and often likes to search for products that give him the orgasms his co-stars can’t.

Once the bell above the door rings, he makes a beeline to the vibrators and glances at the director who is inspecting around. 

“I always order online.”

“You never know what you're gonna get, though.” He hears the director humming somewhere from behind but he focuses on the task at hand. “On a scale of one to ten, how intense should the video be?”

“Wh-What? What do you mean?”

“Like, you know, how… crazy should it be?”

“Whatever you're comfortable with.”

“I’m a simple man, Director Min, don’t you think it’ll be boring?”

“Impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you.”

“Well, I’m flattered. And although with a handjob I’ll be good I like to have fun and today I'm feeling it.”

“Maybe something simple, just like you said but towards the end it gets a bit more playful?”

“That sounds good to me. So a vibrador and a dildo? Oh, and a plug just for teasing beforehand.”

“Sure, Mr. Park.”

He spies all the different types of plugs but can’t decide, that’s why he always takes his manager with him to make the decisions. This time, however, he’s alone and groans when he realizes he wants them all. 

“That one’s sexy.” Yoongi points to a purple one with a heart at the handle. The shape is new to Jimin as well and intriguing. Is long, and thick, and completely smooth.

A girl comes to them to offer them help and recommendations. “This is perfect for couples.” The girl beams, blushing a bit. She must be a new employee, he concludes.

Jimin picks up the one that caught his attention, though. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy it some other time but we’re looking for something for me!”

“Don’t forget the lube.”—Yoongi pipes in from behind him.

“Oh my god, yes!” He spins around and grabs a bottle, taking it all to the counter to pay; which he doesn’t, it’s Yoongi the one that pulls out a black card from his wallet and pays. Jimin whines about it, secretly loving it. 

They buy everything they need and leave the store with a heavy paper bag that Yoongi carries for him. Jimin gasps when he sees the car Yoongi stops next to. A Black BMW. He doesn’t know a thing about cars but it looks beautiful enough to get lots of stares, just like his owner. He teases the man about it, growing used to their little bickering. It’s easy talking with the director, chatting about the music that is on the radio and the new movie the director went to see last week with his friends. It’s easy to keep the conversation flowing and easy when it dies. 

They park the car in a gated neighborhood, right in front of what Jimin guesses is Yoongi’s condo.

“Let me get the guest room ready and change into something more comfortable. Do you, um, want a shirt or something?” 

Jimin toes off his shoes and glances around in wonder, only the lights above the threshold are on but he can see it’s a fancy house. “Gonna take it off either way.”

“Yeah, right, um,” the director rubs the back of his neck and points behind him at the long stretch of hallway. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

In the lounge-room are a few pictures here and there of Yoongi with three men. They look serious in the shoots where Yoongi isn't with them and goofy when the director joins them. He looks so handsome, smiling and enjoying himself. Art pieces here and there, neutral colors and geometric figures.  

The vibe of the place screams minimalist luxury and when he looks at every corner of the room cannot stop himself from wondering what the director’s bedroom looks like. He plops down on a cloud couch and his eyes slip close.

“Are you tired?” 

He looks up at the director. Now he wears a simple white t-shirt, gray sweats and comfy pair of slippers.

“Nope.”

His hair is a bit ruffled because of the hurry and Jimin wants to brush his fingers through it and tame it down. He doesn’t, he just stands to follow the man to the room their going to use, taking the bag of sex toys with him.

“I’ll set up everything while you get ready. There’s a bathroom in front of the room.”

Unlike last time, he doesn’t find himself nervous, if anything they are excited nerves. His heart is beating to a nice rhythm and his cheeks are carrying a nice color that makes him look innocent. He gets to work then, unbuttoning his pants and rubbing his hole with a bit of the clear lube. He hisses because it’s cold but heats up just in time to begin to stretch himself. He takes about five minutes and plugs himself.

He ignores the hardness in his crotch and picks up his pants and underwear, folding them for later. He gets out of the bathroom in only the sweater that reaches mid-thighs. The guest room is mid-sized, grand bed with white sheets. Yoongi already situated a light close to it and a tripod like the one he used before. His heart picks up speed then, too big for his chest and it beats in his throat.

“Same kinda set up, like, bed and ride it?” He wonders out loud for the director’s opinion.

The man looks at him for a moment and glances away, though returns to eye him all the way down and up again. Jimin fakes glancing in front of him but ends up meeting the director’s eyes. 

“Is this okay?” He means his outfit, growing bashful at the gaze on him. Yoongi nods.

“I’m not strict about positions but maybe lay on your back.”

“I don’t know how sexy that can be but let's try.”

“You’ll make it work.”

He knows what he wants. He knows what boundaries they will be crossing if they accept, but it makes it all the more worth it.

“Can I ask you a favor?” He tugs the string of the vibrator, not daring to look at Yoongi.

“Sure.”

“Would you be okay with handling the controller?”

“Um…”

“I like when I’m not in control and if I have it then I know what’s coming. I understand if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll-I can do it, sure.”

Jimin grins at that, tummy tingling. Their hands touch when he gives him the controller and Jimin wants to touch all of him but just takes the vibrator and heads to the bed.

It’s bigger than last time, and plushier, a few more throw pillows that help the fantasy. Now that he knows that the audience wants, he imagines that they might think this is the director’s bed, that maybe the video is going to be so hot that they stop shooting and Yoongi claims him right here while the camera keeps recording. 

“Should I take off the sweater?”

“Looks good like that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna make it dirty.”

“I don’t know why but I knew you were gonna say something like that. Here, it’s an old shirt.”

“Thanks.” He takes off the sweater and shivers at the chill of his naked skin completely exposed, but he covers quickly with the director’s shirt. It’s white and incredibly soft to the touch, the collar is wide and exposes his collarbones. As for the length is shorter than the sweater so he can see the head of his cock and the clear imprint of his shaft. He hears the director harrump and go back to the camera.

“Ready?”

He nods obediently and makes a short introduction again while sitting crisscrossed. This time he’s more specific, mentioning the huge success of their first video and how comfortable he felt shooting with the director. He says that they're doing it again and that he hopes everyone enjoys it as much as he does. With that being said, he rests back, supported by his hand and begins teasing his cock, thumbing up and down. He isn’t exactly hard but it works as foreplay.

“Today we got some new toys that I’m excited to try.”

He bites his tongue before he says that the director has the controller. That would be too risky and actually he feels naughty about that being their little secret. 

He reaches further down until he can cup his testicles, massaging slowly as he gets harder. He pulls them up with his dick and shows the camera the plug that is stretching him.

“It’s really cute, but even cuter in me, right?” He smirks and swears he hears something akin to, ‘fucker’ from behind but he can't be sure.

In a swift motion he turns to give the director his whole behind, parting his asscheeks to get a better view of the heart. He hears the zoom of the camera. Reaching back, he tugs the heart, humming as the bigger part stretches him and then it’s out. 

“Can we cut?”

“Yeah.”

He turns to sit once again, heart galloping. “You know why they want this, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“They want me there... with you.” 

There meaning the bed with him, fucking him. Jimin wants him to say it.

He peeks from the camera to the director’s unreadable gaze. “You’re the director.”

“I don’t even know how they found out about us shooting alone.”—He sighs the words softly to the side, a weak slump to his shoulders as he does. He is overthinking, Jimin should be overthinking what he is doing as well but he isn't.

“That doesn’t matter. You call the shots… They want amateur.”

At that he gets the director to look at him again. It takes a moment for him to actually voice what that look in his eyes means,

“What do you want?”

Jimin’s heart skips a beat. In that same slow beat, Yoongi realizes the implication of what he just said.

“I… mean, how far are you willing to go for a simple video?”

“How far are you?”

“I’ve never—I’ve never done this but,” he doesn’t have anything to lose. “I want you to touch me. Not like all of me just— if they want us to do this then maybe you can be more involved? Only if you’re okay with that.”

He lets the words settle.

“That would be beyond a contract.”

“I know. I know.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“You’re not an actor, I need to know if you’re fine doing this.”

“I’m okay.”

The pornstar’s heart bursts out of his chest when the director takes the camera in hand and approaches until his knees bump the mattress. A cold hand reaches and cups his cheek, strokes ever so gently.

It feels so warm and sudden, so familiar even though it shouldn’t. They have never been close like this, let alone this intimate.

But this is for the video, Jimin notes somewhere far away in the back of his mind. Just for the video.

“Recording.”—Yoongi whispers and thumbs Jimin’s bottom lip.

The younger parts his mouth; feels his bottom being pressed slightly. And just like that he’s welcoming an erection all over again.

“On your fours.” 

Shit.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Jimin gulps thickly and obeys. Bending slightly.

He contains a whimper when that same hand roams his right buttock, soothing hesitantly, though confidently gives a small slap and a squeeze.

A gasp is heard around the room when Yoongi rubs over his hole with his thumb, carefully pressing the small thing and barely massaging. Much to Jimin’s dismay, he doesn’t sink in. He, instead, pushes the vibrator. Ever so slowly it sinks, settles perfectly inside.

“Turn around.”

This time Jimin ends face to face with the director’s crotch. He clears his throat and leans back, sitting prettily on his knees, hands on his lap.

For… for the video.

“Come here.”

As if drunk Jimin does what he’s told, instinctively taking the director’s hips. He eyes the camera and then the man behind the lense.

“Take off the shirt.”

He does and waits patiently for another order.

“Do it.”

And with a tug the sweats are down the man’s thighs. With no underwear in between, Jimin sees the cock on full display, thick and hard. He aims for it immediately, grabbing the length and stroking slowly.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, entranced by the dick in front of him. “Can I?” He looks up. The camera is on him, as well as a dark, clouded gaze.

“Go ahead.”

He leans until he feels the warmth of the cock against his lips, kisses the swollen head and licks at the slit eagerly. 

“Shit,” the director rasps lowly.

Jimin keeps the stroking up as well as the light suckles he gives the head. He opens his mouth widely and wraps around the girth, the cock weighing down on his tongue. A hand rakes his hair back, threads and holds his head in place. His jaw goes slack and the director tries to move into it a few times. Jimin receives each tender thrust with teary eyes. 

Once Yoongi stops, Jimin wakes up and swallows. He smiles, but something is missing so he grabs Yoongi’s hand and puts it in his hair.

“Fuck,” the director murmurs.

He gets in a more comfortable position and then with his hot tongue laps the tip of Yoongi’s aching erection painfully slow, gliding down to his testicles and leaving a strip of drool all the way down before he comes back up and takes half of it, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing without warning.

“That’s it. That’s what you wanted all along, huh?” 

He doesn’t know if Yoongi is playing along or simply too gone but either way those words feel like a blessing. He pulls all the way back and only licks the head suckling on the slit and applying pressure with his tongue.

“Yes. Wanted it so bad.”

When he runs out of air, he coughs to the side and feels a thumb rubbing over his puffed lips. It makes him smile when he catches Yoongi’s eyes above the camera.

“Like it?”—He asks without any intention to hear him.

“You know I do.”

He inhales sharply and takes him in at a steady pace, licking and sucking while at the same time rubbing his teeth on the undervein. Yoongi loses it. The grip in his hair tightens and he fucks his mouth with fast thrusts. 

“Lemme cum on your back.” He pulls away and rapidly turns Jimin around.

The sound he hears has him thinking he must be dreaming because they sound like moans of an angel: a weak panting with broken grunts of his name. And then he feels stripes of heat across his back and ass. A few curses come from the elder as he finishes on him and then he doesn’t even give Jimin time to realize what is happening because he’s turning on the vibrator, teasing his rim with the head of the dildo. Jimin is a moan away from begging for it to be the director’s cock instead.

“Fe-Feels so good!” It's a broken cry what comes next, for Yoongi is sinking the toy all the way in, turning up the speed of the vibrator inside and pushing right against his prostrate.

“My cum looks so pretty on you.”—Yoongi mumbles as an afterthought.

When he removes the dildo Jimin screams for it to be back, so he slides it inside again, pulling only a bit to thrust it again and again. 

He trembles as the round head of the toy expands his insides and pushes the vibrator to abuse his sensitive prostate in the rhythm the director guides it.

“Wish it was your— ¡Ah! Fuck— so good— so g—!”

The director hikes the intensity, the toy shaking. Jimin loses control. His hips roll fluidly as he meets every push. 

“Yoongi—!”

In an awfully long and silent moment his mind goes blank, senses completely numb.

He feels the strength of the punches stop but then it comes back, stealing Jimin’s little sanity. He lets his head fall between his shoulders as a strangled noise escapes his lips. He holds his erection harder but stroking weakly, teasingly, running his finger on the slit making himself trash from pleasure.

“I wanna cum. Can I cum, please?! I can’t— I’m gonna—”

Jimin squirms on the bed when he glances above the lens only to find the director looking at him as well, not through the camera but at him.

“Hyungie—” It’s enough to make it all culminate with a series of wanton moans and gutural whimpers as Jimin feels his cock spurting semen all over the sheets and his hand, the vibrator relentless and the toy fucking him thanks to the other man, pounding along his heartbeat.

Every single one of his limbs melts into the mattress. Even then he feels the electricity roaming around and striking certain parts: his toes, his sore thighs, his hole, his nipples, his spent cock. Yoongi takes the dildo out and Jimin recoils in the aftermath.

“Off, plea—” His voice trims off but then he screams, “Off!”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” The vibrations stop then. “It’s still inside you.” 

“Just—” lightheaded, he gives up talking and hums what he expects is a ‘yes, I know’.

His eyes threaten to drift shut. If he had hooked up with someone he would be forcing them to clean him, take out the toy and shush him as he trembles and winces sporadically, then cuddle him. But now he is cold, sticky and should probably leave because he isn’t even in a set or his house, he’s in the director’s mansion and no one is going to clean him if he doesn’t move but right now he can’t; even if he knows he should.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself. His limbs feel heavy as he crawls on the bed to lay completely on it; curling so his back is to the director. Fuck, he can still taste the man on his tongue.

Absently, he feels the vibrator being tugged out of him. It’s enough to smile in bliss.

“Shit.” It comes both because he feels like he was born again and because what the fuck did they just do? Jimin groans both regretful for what is to come and sore.

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself upward with weak arms. Yoongi is packing away his stuff and not meeting his eyes or saying anything to him. Jimin stands with quivering thighs, restrained hisses and jerking knees. It’s not a surprise that he plummets unceremoniously, rolling his eyes at himself for being so clumsy.

"Fuck," the director curses and he’s there a second later, crouched in front of him and holding his waist.

Jimin gets to smell that spicy and numbing scent once again. He follows the need and ends up burrowing his face on the director’s neck, humming dumbly and breathing deeply. 

“Are you okay?” The voice sounds against his ear, the one pressed on Yoongi’s neck. It sounds even deeper with such little space in between.

Jimin can only hum an affirmative. 

Though he wishes he could stay in the man’s arms for a bit longer, he asks him to help him up, standing like a baby deer. Jimin manages to stay put. The director’s arms hover around him just in case but Jimin ignores him for the sake of grabbing the toys and running - limping - to the bathroom with his sweater in hand.

The rest of his clothes are right where he left them as he thinks of escaping, would be lying if he said it didn’t sound tentative at all just getting dressed, sprinting to the door and never looking back.

But, one: Yoongi would probably find him on the floor again. Two: he was the one that got them in this mess so he owes the director as much.

He cleans himself and hates the way he flushes all over when he turns to see the director’s milky release drying on his lower back.

“What the fuck?”—He asks his reflection. “What the fuck just happened?”

He slaps water on his red cheeks, tries his best to wipe his back with wet toilet paper, which ends up being a mess. He discards any sort of solution and holds himself on the sink, breathing slowly and deeper each time.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fucking idiot, Park Jimin.”—He curses himself quietly as he stretches back up.

All the courage he had pumped himself with crumbles once he finds himself in the silent and gloomy hallway.

Regret settles into his bones right away.

He messed everything up. Maybe even a potential partnership and friendship along the way.

He should just get out and pray that Yoongi doesn’t sue him right away. He should contact his lawyer and tell him to wait for the blow. Hoseok is going to be so disappointed, he will still love him but his business is going to crumble so he won’t get to work with any of them again, Taehyung included.

He hears footsteps from behind but he keeps walking like his life depends on it.

“Um, I’m leaving now. I’ll, ah— Goodnight.”

He bows without even a glance above his shoulder, too busy scattering around to get his belongings and leave; get out of Min Yoongi’s life for good.

It just didn’t make sense; doesn’t make sense to stay and look at him in the eye knowing that he wants what he can’t have. It’s starting to get ugly and Jimin really wants to go home and maybe cry—

“Didn’t peg you for one to run away.”

The shriek of his feet stopping clean against the expensive flooring is the last sound in the place.

Teeth clenched together.

He doesn’t turn around.

Truth be told, he’s disappointed in himself for running away, at least trying to, but he’s scared. Yoongi sounds disappointed as well. All his years of experiencing the crude reality of people in the industry that dare to play with fire taught him that it never ends well.

The first thought he had about Yoongi comes to mind right this second: he could get sued, his career would wash down the drain in a matter of seconds if the director chooses to speak, his reputation could be obliterated if Yoongi exposes what Jimin just did.

He hates thinking about all of this because he doubts the director would cause him so much damage but he has to acknowledge all the outcomes that could possibly occur if that video sees the light of day.

He should warn Hoseok and his laywer right about now, tell them to get ready.

“Let me take you home, Mr. Park."

Jimin closes his eyes and feels Yoongi walking past him.

On their way to his house, besides telling the director his address, they don’t talk. If they were complete strangers then it would be awkward but it isn’t, they are both avoiding the unavoidable for as long as they can. They distract themselves by staying in their heads for as long as possible.

The director follows Jimin to his door and Jimin thinks he might be stalling them, maybe he’s nervous as well and he is going to talk about it; unlike Jimin.

Strangely, that comforts him.

He certainly won’t be the first one to spark conversation but he feels like this is the right time to apologize, for what, he isn’t sure but he has to apologize.

“I’m sorry for saying your name. I just… I saw you and…”

Yoongi leans against the wall, smoking from the stick between his fingers and letting the smoke out through his nose. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do, though, that was uncalled for. And I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. Don’t worry about it. You’re used to filming with partners and calling for them, it’s only natural. Can’t say it has ever happened before,” he huffs a breathy smirk, “none of this has, but it’s okay.”

The porn actor has to bite his damned tongue so he doesn’t contradict everything the director just said because it’s a lie. He never calls his co-stars names if he doesn’t have to, he wanted it to be Yoongi, he was thinking of him and only him for days now but what’s done it’s done and he can only nod.

“Do you wanna come in and meet Bento?”

“I’d love to.”

As soon as the door clicks open, Bento throws himself at them though realizes Yoongi isn’t Taehyung or Hoseok, so he cowers next to Jimin, making himself small even though he almost reaches Jimin’s hip.

“Oh, wow, you're beautiful.”

When Jimin sees Yoongi’s heart-eyes a rush of fondness flashes through him. All the worry from before flies with the little breeze of the night. The director hunches to let Bento sniff his open palm, which the dog does continuing from there to the rest of his arm, shoes and legs.

“So, you approve, little boy, hm?” Yoongi ruffles the top of his head, and Bento dives in to lick his cheek.

“I think he does.” Jimin leads the charmed director towards the living room and tells him he’ll be fast and that Bento will keep him company. “If he’s too needy then tell him to sit and he’ll stay put.”

“That’s fine, I like needy.”

It should be remarkable, the speed at which Jimin sheds his clothes. They end up sprinkled everywhere around his room but he pays it no mind. He shrieks when water skims down his body but soon acclimates to the soothing warmth. He does his whole routine, even his skincare and pops out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later.

He swallows thickly when he has to pick pajamas. If this situation were different, he would choose something riskier like a small t-shirt and no briefs or sweats but now he should behave and don’t make things awkward.

In the end, he chooses a long sleeve pajama top and gray sweatpants that match. Even when he is ready and stepping out of the room, he’s heart doesn’t stop beating wildly.

“Ah, Bento!”— He pads to the sofa where the director is laying on, Bento on top of him snorting like the lazy bear he is.

Yoongi lowers his phone when he spots him, smiling softly at his worry.

“Come on, you big cow.” He jerks at the dog’s pink collar though the animal doesn’t even flinch. Yoongi is chuckling at him, gummy smile just for him and Jimin is blushing embarrassingly soon. “Bento!”

It is until he makes the sounds of two quick and loud pecks that the dog perks up and flops gracefully from the director’s body onto the carpet. Yoongi groans when two paws squish his stomach and Jimin immediately cracks up.

“Now that that’s done, do you want anything to drink, water, wine?”

Yoongi brushes his messy fringe once he sits upright, resting against the back of the couch; one thigh over the other. Looking classy and handsome all over.

“Wine sounds great.”

And it was a great choice Jimin thinks when his first glass is gone and Yoongi is in his second. 

“Does your family know about you?”

“That I’m gay or that I shoot porn?”

Grinning, Jimin clarifies slowly, dragging words thanks to the wine—“The porn thing.”

“Yeah, they do. My dad is actually an investor and my mom and her partner have a nude magazine.”

“That’s pretty open-minded of them.”

He reckons it must be a good life, the one the elder lives. It makes Jimin happy.

“Yeah, maybe a bit too much? It’s fine— Easy, I think would be the right word. What about your family, do they know?”

“Yeah, they’re not as supportive but they don’t hate me either.”

“No one could ever hate you.”—The director differs with a faint smirk.

“Why do you sound so sure about that, Director Min?”

The man rolls his eyes teasingly as if it was obvious.

“You look cute like that.”—He says instead, a bit shy though confident in the way he looks at him. Jimin didn’t know those two things could blend so  seamlessly together.

“Like what?”

“Comfy, with those pajamas and red cheeks.”

“It's the wine.”

“Still cute,” he shrugs.

And maybe it is the wine that has the mood swinging sweetly, humming even though they’re silent, only Bento chewing his favorite toy at Yoongi’s feet.

“You’re blonde, too. You look good.”

“Shut up.”—Jimin scoffs, smirking.

By the time they finish the wine bottle, Jimin’s cheeks have become impossibly red, Bento is passed out between them and Yoongi’s smile is permanently intended for Jimin. He looks bright, saying quips and bickering, other times serious as they delve into interesting subjects such as the industry itself and the mistreatment and advantages in recent years. Jimin tells him how he started his career and finds himself being honest about why he wants to quit.

“It’s not that sudden though, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, Hobi just gave me another reason,” he adds. 

“So it’s decided then?”

And the answer to that appears clearly, “Yeah, I think it is.”

“Well, if the last time we shot taught us anything is that when you're on your own you’re gonna trend again for a long while and your audience is going to grow as well. It's okay to move on, sometimes it’s necessary.”

“Feels like I’m quitting altogether.”

“I don’t see it like that, you just want to be on your own.”

“Yeah…”

Their eyes connect naturally when silence falls as if waiting for someone to say something else or do something— anything. Or maybe it’s Jimin the one that thinks if he’s quitting then this is the last time he and the director are going to be in the same room, or see each other but, as monumental as it feels, nothing happens.

“Yoongi, what are you going to do with the video?” He sucks his lip unconsciously, an annoying tick he has always had.

“What do you mean?”

“Sure, it can make us a lot of money but you didn’t sign up for that.”—He speaks ruefully. “I didn’t either.”

“You don’t want it public.” He sips the last drops of wine from the glass.

“It feels like…” Jimin frowns, thinking hard why it feels so wrong for it to be public. Putting aside the ostracization and criticism they could get, he doesn’t want it out. It’s theirs and—

“Like a leaked sex-tape?”

His gaze snaps up to Yoongi’s.

“You think so, too?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He fidgets with the hems of the shirt. There is still one thing. “Are you going to sue me?”

Yoongi frowns, blinking fast. Jimin is successfully trapped under a soft gaze; one that shouldn’t be so soft.

“Jimin, we’re consenting adults. Maybe what we did was not professionally correct but my intentions were clear from the get go.”

“Yeah, for the video.”

“Okay, so maybe not clear at all.” Again, when he looks at him Jimin feels as if he’s missing something. “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. I’ll delete the tape and— Maybe we shouldn’t work together again. It’s no one's fault, really— just… got too personal? I don’t know.” Yoongi looks away, to Bento, a faint twist in his lips—“I should go.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty late.” Jimin clears his throat, biting into his lips momentarily, nodding as he stands and picks up the empty glasses, placing them on the low coffee table. The elder nods along with him.

He is disappointed. But doesn’t show it, he’s an actor after all, so he must look pretty neutral to the director’s eyes. But inside he feels weird, as if someone is stealing something from him.

The director grabs his coat and they walk towards the front door. It clicks open and they glance at each other. Though doesn’t know what he wants to say, Jimin opens his mouth and closes it after a second of uncertainty.

“Good luck with everything, I’m sure it will go smoothly for you.”

“I hope so, thanks.”

“Thank you for filming with me, too, and giving me another opportunity.”

“It was my pleasure.” He realizes as soon as he speaks. They grin widely and Jimin pushes Yoongi out to save him out of his misery. “You know what I mean!”

“Yes, I know. It was fun, Mr. Park.”

“See y— Goodbye, Director Min.”

And then Yoongi walks away and Jimin closes the door with another beep. He wants to run and cuddle that big snorting dinosaur but decides to be upfront and honest.

“I like you.”

It doesn’t change anything but it feels good to say. He nods to himself and rubs the left side of his heart, soothes it with his hand.

“I like you so fucking—”

The chill that takes over his body when two knocks blast on the hallway makes him yell and bump the closest wall. His heart is probably dying from the way it's pounding but that is the last thing in his mind.

“Did you forg—”

He feels arms around him first, then Yoongi surges forward.

Is shocking at first, past his own shock, he can feel Yoongi’s.

The kiss becomes hesitant, a slight push, a harder press. He wraps around the director but they disconnect only for Jimin to grab the collar of his shirt, meet his eyes and yank him back to his mouth. 

“Thought you’d never get the hint.” Jimin mumbles.

From then on it changes completely, they kiss desperately. Jimin can’t stop smiling, but he does when Yoongi gives a soft suckle to his bottom lip, and teases with his tongue. Jimin whines when the director bites and tugs, when he holds him closer and pins him to the wall.

“You could’ve done that from the first time.”—He cocks his head to the side; feels Yoongi panting against his temple, hears a huffed smirk.

He tilts Jimin’s head again, making them meet eye-to-eye.

“Could I, though?”

Jimin doesn’t answer right away, he bites his lip at the sight of the pristine porn director in front him, blushed; lips red and glossy. He can’t help but let out the giddiness in the form of a giggle, smiling as Yoongi keeps pecking across his face.

“Nope.”

The elder leans back, humming as he squints, “See, had to wait for you.”

Jimin untagles from the man only to run his hands from Yoongi’s neck to his collarbones and shoulders. He had wanted to do that for so long, feel him close to him. Everywhere he touches is firm and soft at the same time. Jimin must look entranced, for Yoongi laughs bashfully and tucks a fallen strand behind the shell of his ear to catch his attention back.

“Should’ve asked this first but is this okay?”

Instantly, Jimin nods, “Yes, really, really okay.”

“Are you sure?” His lips purse beautifully and Jimin laughs and dives for a cheeky peck.

“Do-Do you want to come in again?”

“How about you let me wine-and-dine you first?”

“Really? Director Min wants to take me on a date?” He pulls him in again, lips easily finding each others’. 

“Jimin-ah, say yes to the poor director already.”

“Yes, hyungie~, I would love that.”

Yoongi is the one that gasps, though chuckles immediately—“Fucking knew it! You menace.”

“It wasn't my fault.” He purses his lips in a pout, stroking the elder’s cheek with his thumb. “You gave me your shirt.”

“I wanted to be sure. You gave me the fucking controller.”

“Well, you were too slow!”

“For the video, huh?” One of those pretty straight eyebrows lifts suspiciously.

“Sue me then! I was running out of ideas.”

“No, no one is suing anyone. But you could’ve asked me out anytime.”

“And risk you rating me out to everyone?! Never.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I know.” He brushes the director's hair out of his pretty eyes, who hugs him closer, feeling up and down his sides. He pecks his cheek, nosing along until he meets his smile. “Tell me, Director Min,” he tugs the collar of his shirt. “Are you staying over?”

“Ah, I think Bento isn’t the only one needy.”

Jimin captures the director’s lips once again. “Last I heard you like needy.”

“I do.”

Once they close the door, Yoongi scoops him in his arms and kisses him on their way to the bedroom. Jimin can't help but giggle, leaving brief pecks on his cheek. The director wears a beautiful smile, and chuckles when Jimin whispers filth into his ear. They end up kicking Bento out of the room and that night Jimin finds out what the best sex of his life feels like.

~

Unlike their relationship, the video never goes public.

Jimin begins shooting alone after their second date. Hoseok and Taehyung still work with him. His schedule becomes less busy, leaving Jimin with a lot of free time for himself and Bento, and, of course, his boyfriend who he comes to find he loves very, very much. By the third date Yoongi meets his friends and by the fourth date Yoongi introduces him to the men in the picture he saw the first time he went to his house. They all get along pretty well and often go for drinks or trips to the beach.

By the fifth date Yoongi helps him with the camera equipment though stays behind it. Jimin both hates and loves him because they never get to shoot the actual thing and instead make love, adding to the unreleased footage that they keep recording for themselves.

All in all Jimin is sure that he made the right decision; both quitting the industry and accepting Director Min’s odd offer.

~