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Jungkook prides on how well he’s able to hide things.
Living with six other boys proves that privacy is just a sweet, very distant dream, but Jungkook’s learned to work the system for his benefits. Most times, no one bothers to check the packages he receives every so often after spending a little too much time on Amazon and no one dares to rifle through his closet like they so easily do with each other. He's told them time and time again to not touch his shit, and they listen— surprisingly well.
The youngest is adamant on keeping his stuff to himself, because what the hyungs could see may or may not be a simple stash of his pretty clothes stuffed away in the back of his closet. The chokers nicely tucked away in the back of his accessory drawer, a small acrylic one where it seems conspicuous enough, or the multiple pairs of stockings, fishnets to ones that stop mid-thigh to simple black ones.
If it's cute, Jungkook probably has it.
And he’s done a pretty fine job hiding it away, even from his roommate. Good thing Namjoon’s probably the most respectful when it comes to keeping his distance.
Jungkook likes how Namjoon understands that he likes his privacy, so he stays away when asked on days where it's preferred to be alone and give each other personal space.
And it may sound harsh, how he asks the older to let him have the room to himself, but he has his reasons— reasons he could never share with any of the boys ever. Ever.
Days like this, where Namjoon’s off doing who knows what kind of work— where Jungkook can close the door with ease— are the days he prays for in his dreams because no one will bother him, and he's rather certain his leader wouldn't be knocking asking for entrance anytime soon. So he breaks out the drawer— only rifling around for a moment or so before pulling out exactly what he felt like wearing today.
He wore a simple pair of black briefs, not really in much of a mood for anything fancier, and a similarly black pair of thigh high stockings, pulling them up until they wouldn't give way around the thick and defined muscles. Jungkook found that to be a tad annoying, as the socks would ride down if he shifted around too much, or if the muscles in his thighs flexed with movements.
Ah, now for a shirt . Now this was the trickier part. Jungkook would cross over to Namjoon’s closet now and open it with all the confidence in the world, as if he owned it and wasn't technically snooping. It wasn't uncommon that he’d ask Namjoon for a shirt if all his were dirty, but obviously he wouldn’t take it without asking first. Or so they thought— Jungkook searched and scoured through the wardrobe, glancing at any article of clothing that caught his eye.
Jungkook loved to wear Namjoon’s clothes, loved secretly taking them and wearing them in the room when said man wasn't around. It felt all too big on him, the articles of clothing. They didn't hug his figure as some of his own clothes did due to the slight height difference and simply the fact that Namjoon was broad . Broader than Jungkook at least, so the clothes always hung off his shoulders a bit more than they would on the leader, but he could fill out the chest and arms a bit better.
He pulled out a sweatshirt, plain grey with no embroidery or logos, and he knew this one wasn't tight fitting on Namjoon either— Jungkook specifically loved those clothes more. As he pulled the sweatshirt over his head and let it cascade to cover his torso, it was as if he were swimming in the soft material. That familiar sense of warmth spread across his chest as he purely wanted to melt into the shirt and never take it off again, but that wasn't the only thing he planned to wear.
“Dammit, where is it…” Jungkook mumbled to himself while thoroughly making a bit of a mess in his hyung’s closet. A triumphant and giddy sound resonated from him once he found what he was looking for and pulled the denim jacket out from the depths of the cluttered closet. Honestly, he has too many clothes…
Letting the jacket first just rest on his shoulders, Jungkook shuffled on back to his bed and sat down, legs dangling off the edge and feet just a bit off the floor. That's when he decided to slip his arms through and wear the jacket properly— God, he really shouldn't be doing this. Jungkook felt as if it was borderline creepy how he liked wearing Namjoon’s clothes without the other knowing.
But he liked how they felt on his skin and how they looked as well. And not to mention, they always smelled like Namjoon. A scent so familiar to the older man— cologne, strawberries, and something else, a unique musk Jungkook could never describe but loved. It had him leaning on Namjoon’s bed, his back meeting the mattress as his hands clutched at the jacket and pulled it up till his face was semi-covered, and he could easily bask in such a wonderful atmosphere.
It could just be a strange infatuation thing, but Jungkook couldn't deny his attraction— completely futile to the way he longs for his hyung. Here he is, sinking into the soft comforter and running his hands up and down his torso, imagining they weren't his hands— that it was Namjoon hovering over him, letting those slender fingers of his dance along his body, trailing down his clothed, yet still sensitive, chest. Finally, Namjoon would cup his thighs and give them the attention he keened for and—
“Jungkook? What— why are you in my bed?”
The voice quickly filled his ears, a voice he's dreamed about whispering soft nothings in his ears— as well as dirty little secrets just for his ears. Only this time it wasn't in one of Jungkook’s wet dreams over his hyung and as he shot up into a sitting position, his shocked expression was met with a similar one plastered on Namjoon’s face.
“H-hyung— I can explain—”
Jungkook’s words were stuttered, slurred together as his rounded eyes stared at the man frozen in the doorway. But soon, Namjoon’s shutting the door and locking it behind him, gaze still glued to Jungkook with more confusion than shock. That's a better reaction than what Jungkook had been anticipating, he thought there'd be more disgust than anything, really.
“Is— is this why you go ballistic about your privacy?” Namjoon stutters out. “So you can wear my clothes?”
“I-I…” Jungkook couldn't muster the confidence to even look at Namjoon, let alone compose a coherent sentence, so he just nods and looks down at his hands in his lap. Fuck.
Jungkook was too busy searching his mind for a way out of this, a way to escape that he didn't hear the footsteps approaching, only really looking up when he felt the bed dip beside him and meeting his leader’s careful gaze on him. His fingers picked at the sleeves of the jacket, arms too long as they covered the majority of his hands while his teeth chewed and nipped at his lower lip.
Namjoon mumbled something, much too soft to be heard, but before he could open his mouth to question the other, he was swiftly pushed back down to lay on his back, and a weight hovered so close over top of him. A breath fanned over Jungkook’s face and tickled over his features, and it was so hard for him to not flutter his eyes shut.
“Cute—” Namjoon all but rasped out, lips parted as his eyes dragged down to look between him and the boy pinned underneath him. His fingers trail along the jacket, moving to curl around the lapels. “Looks better on you than on me, Jungkook.”
The world was spinning, Jungkook was scared he may pass out at this rate but was knocked back into reality once he sensed a pair of soft lips atop of his own. It was barely a brush of the lips and it still had Jungkook reeling, his arms coming up to drape over Namjoon’s shoulders and his fingers gripping onto the material of his shirt, lips trembling once he leans in further for a firmer kiss this time.
Lips engaging in a tango of mumbled confessions and hands traveling and craving that touch— this was what Jungkook had longed for. The jacket was shucked off his frame, and Namjoon pulled back first, cheeks flushed and breaths released in soft huffs as his eyes took the other in intently— Jungkook looked so far gone already, eyelids hooded and gaze distant and foggy, chest rising with each intake of air. The elder couldn’t help a number of times he muttered Beautiful .
He was practically swimming in the sweatshirt but Namjoon made no moves to take it off— not at this moment at least. So his hands trailed down lower, resting on the sculpted legs and squeezing the muscular thighs as his lips began peppering an array of open-mouthed kisses and nibbles to the exposed skin of Jungkook’s neck.
The atmosphere grew warmer around the two men as things heated up, and Jungkook was too tempted to pinch himself and check if this was all a dream. He could feel Namjoon all around him, his warmth, scent, and presence was so intense, that light-headed feeling he first experienced rushing back as the blood flowed all too quickly through his veins. Please— let this be real.
———
“Aww, look at you, Kook— so little. ”
The tone Namjoon used was endearing, or at least that’s what Jungkook would usually think if his hyung weren’t cooing at his cock while pulling his briefs down his legs and tossing them off into some corner to be concerned over another time.
His face felt hot— hotter than before as he felt his cock twitching from the attention now. But the condescending aspect didn’t bother him, only turned him on further, and he thrived off the attention now. His shirt uncomfortably stuck to his skin and his thigh highs rode down slightly from his shifting around, and he wanted to question why Namjoon could take off his shirt and pants but Jungkook couldn’t, yet he wasn’t complaining.
It was intoxicating the way the material rubbed against his hypersensitive skin as Namjoon wrapped his deft fingers around the base and stroked up in one slow but swift motion, easily repeating the motion until Jungkook was squirming in his hold, moans growing higher in pitch.
“Feel good, baby?”
The way Namjoon spoke right into Jungkook’s ear filled him with excitement, and he could only frantically nod. Jungkook could barely hold back his whines as his legs were guided apart to accommodate the older in between them.
It wasn’t long until his hands were tangled in Namjoon’s soft hair, fingers tensing with the heightening arousal at the way Namjoon licked a flat-tongued stripe up the shaft of his cock, and let his lips wrap around the head, sinking down as slowly as he possibly could in order to tease Jungkook— to have his hips buck up in search of that friction— he needed more and he wasn’t getting it with how much Namjoon wanted to tease him.
He wanted to draw out his orgasm, all the euphoric sensations clouding his senses until his thighs were trembling from where they rested on Namjoon’s shoulders. It wasn’t until his moans grew in volume and the grip he had on the hair between his fingers tightened that Namjoon got the message; he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head even faster.
Oh . That's what Jungkook needed, exactly that— not to mention the vice Namjoon had on his thighs, fingers squeezing and caressing his inner thighs that did just the trick to coax Jungkook through his orgasm. His mouth fell open, wanton moans spilled out, bordering all too loud for the fact that there could be other members around, but neither really care in the moment.
Namjoon was eager to please the writhing boy beneath him, sucking him into overstimulation after easily swallowing the contents in his mouth. He didn’t stop until Jungkook whimpered for it, P-please— hurts— Joonie… — because who was he not to completely ravish Jungkook as much as he could? He finally pulled off the softening cock and leaned back to admire the mess that was Jungkook.
His hair was all over the place from the thrashing against the pillow, the sweatshirt bunched up right under his chest to reveal the toned stomach as it tensed with each shuddering breath, and his face— thoroughly knocked the air out of Namjoon’s lungs.
“You still look better than me in that sweatshirt.”
Jungkook blinked up at the other, gaze still hazy but a laugh escaped him nonetheless. “I think you wear it best, no ifs, ands, or buts.”
Jungkook left no room for argument, sitting up and proceeded to push down Namjoon, hovering over his hyung just like he'd done moments before.
“Now, let me make hyung feel good too.”
And Namjoon couldn't say no, even if he wanted to.