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Osaka
Jungkook comes to learn early on that when Jimin slides a copy of his hotel keycard into his back pocket, he’s expected to return the favor. Of course, Jungkook has never quite managed to find the nerve or the excuse to use it, so it’s somewhat of a moot point. By now it’s more tradition than expectation; Jimin keeps his spare key card safe, and in return Jungkook keeps Jimin’s. Each night it sits, right out on the desk, burning a metaphorical hole through the side of his wallet. It’s not a thing. Just. Somehow he feels a little safer with the knowledge that Jimin would almost definitely come to his rescue if Jungkook were to ever… drown in his bathtub or something.
But that’s not the point. The point of it is that Jimin never uses his keycard to barge in, and Jungkook extends the same courtesy and that’s just how it is. Until it isn’t.
They’ve just finished their second show in Osaka and Jungkook is dead tired. But more than that he feels wired, strung taut and still buzzing― like he couldn’t relax if he tried. It’s not always like this. Sometimes he’s so exhausted after a show that he falls asleep mere minutes after getting back to his room after just a cursory swipe over his face with a bit of makeup remover and a half-assed attempt at undressing. Tonight, unfortunately, is not one of those nights.
He checks the group chat, considers sending a message to check if anyone else is still up now. He knows Hoseok gets like this too some nights, and he’s almost always down to come over and distract him with dumb stories and laughter. Then again, he could be asleep; he’d looked awfully tired in the van on the way back, dozing off on Namjoon’s shoulder.
Jungkook deletes the message and glares up at the screen of his phone instead, as if he might conjure up some sort of response by will alone. It doesn’t work. The only notification he gets is a video recommendation from youtube. He chucks his phone down on the mattress next to him and it lands with a soft whump before bouncing back up to hit him in the temple.
He tries to take his mind off it with a nice, long, hot shower with his favorite body wash. It’s floraly and nice, reminds him a little bit of home, not their dorm but the one is Busan― the one with his parents, where he hasn’t lived since he was fourteen. He doesn’t like to think about that, though. The shower cuts off with a little screech of pipes and he takes a deep inhale of steam as he to find a pair of clean underwear.
This is precisely when the knock comes, and he startles, fumbling his little array of travel sized moisturizers― one can never be too moist. The only people who know his room number are the staff and maybe the other boys, if they’d bothered to remember. They usually didn’t.
The peephole reveals an empty hallway. A line of goosebumps prick unbidden over his skin― across his shoulders and down his naked back. It feels a bit like every horror movie he’s ever watched, and he lurches back, just in case. Rookie mistake to get stabbed through the eyeball right at the climax.
“I’m not opening the door if I can’t see you,” he says, perhaps too quietly to even be heard through the door. There’s the scraping sound of nails on wood and the tiny beacon of light vanishes as a hand snakes out to covers the peephole. Jungkook takes a wary step back― he knows he’s being paranoid, but… precautions― just as an artificially deep voice comes booming through the door cracks.
“Jeon Jungkook,” it warbles. “Jeon Jungkook I’m coming for you.” The voice breaks off into a just audible snort. “Open the door,” the voice says after a moment, strained. “Open the door so I can kill you.” Jungkook knows that voice.
He cracks the door open just wide enough to spot Jimin’s toes peeking around the corner. “Sorry, but I don’t fuck around with ghosts,” he tells Jimin’s foot.
“Who said I was a ghost?” Jimin says, halfway between his normal voice and the false baritone he’d assumed before. “Maybe I’m just a serial killer.”
Jungkook lets the door slam shut in his face.
A few seconds pass and then there’s another knock.
“Who is it?” Jungkook trills.
“A murderer.” Jimin rasps, lips pressed to the door crack so his voice comes out disturbingly clear inside the room. “Come to kill you.”
“I guess I won’t open the door then.”
There’s a slight pause, then: “No, open the door.”
“Sorry, I can’t. Really busy.” Jungkook takes a step out of the puddle he’s been dripping onto the carpet and dips back into the bathroom. He ruffles the towel around his shoulders through his hair once and then slings it over the glass door of the shower where it hangs limp and heavy.
“Liar.”
“Can’t hear you,” Jungkook calls. “Bad connection. Try again later.”
“Brat.” Jimin pounds harder on the door. Hard enough that the neighbors down the hall can probably feel the vibrations too. “Open up.”
“Nah, I’m good.” He spritzes a bit of conditioner into his hair while he listens for Jimin, fumbling at the door.
There’s virtually no time to process before there’s the smooth clicking of the lock and the whoosh of the door sliding open. Jimin is standing in the doorway to the bathroom not a moment later in slides and a fluffy white robe and any remnants of makeup washed clean of his face. He takes in Jungkook’s hair first, all rumpled and standing at odd angles. Then his eyes trail slowly down, until they catch on his bare chest, then on the thin, almost invisible patch of hair trailing down into his waistband. Jungkook scratches at his ribs self-consciously and Jimin’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly where they’re locked on his body.
Jungkook coughs.
“You’re such a brat,” Jimin tells him, dragging his eyes back to his face with some difficulty. “I came to play with you and you can’t even answer the door.” His pout is hilariously exaggerated.
“I told you I was busy.”
“I can see that,” Jimin’s eyes flick very briefly back to his stomach. He snactches the brush off of the counter before Jungkook can finish reaching for it and spins him around, pressing into his side.
“Let me help.”
Jungkook watches in the mirror as Jimin brushes carefully through his hair, working out the tangles more gently than necessary, clucking softly under his breath when he finds a particularly dense knot. Jungkook has to make a conscious effort not to let his head fall back on Jimin’s shoulder as tingles shoot down his spine all the way into his toes. He sighs contentedly. Jimin meets his eyes in the mirror and grins.
“Baby Jungkookie. So cute.”
Jungkook pretends not to like it as much as he does, elbowing Jimin in the side and jostling him out of the way. “Whoops,” he says with an eyebrow raised. Jimin smirks and sets down the brush. He follows Jungkook out into the bedroom and flops down on the bed without an invitation, kicking his feet up over Jungkook’s legs when he sits down beside him with his laptop. Jungkook doesn’t bother pushing him off, kind of likes the weight of it anyway.
“Tired?” Jimin asks when he unsuccessfully masks a yawn in his hand.
“No,” Jungkook lies, reaching for the remote to his bluetooth speaker. He turns it on and lets the first song that comes on play. “I’m wide awake.” He widens his eyes to emphasize.
“Hmph,” Jimin says, head falling back onto Jungkook’s pillow. “Sure you are.” The music is just soft enough to fade into the background of whatever it is they’re doing. Jungkook scrolls through twitter distractedly until his eyes lose focus. Jimin pulls out his phone and starts messing around with some game. He wiggles his toes in Jungkook’s lap until Jungkook grabs his ankle and forcibly removes him.
Jimin allows his foot to be placed back down just out of toe’s reach and then sits back up with a sigh. “I'm bored. Play with me.”
“Play what?” Jungkook barely looks up from the screen. Jimin’s lips are adorably puffy right now and he can’t trust himself not to stare. He has an appearance to uphold.
“I don’t know.” Jimin cocks his head. “I’m sure we could find something to do to― with each other.”
“Eh. Sounds gross.”
Jimin punches him in the shoulder.
“Ow.”
“Shut up,” Jimin says, and then, softer, “Such a brat. Since when were you so sensitive, baby?”
“I’m just sore.” Jungkook pouts, rubbing his shoulder. Jimin’s hand comes down right on top of his and Jungkook locks up, his own hand falling away. Jimin hums, kneading the muscle just above his collarbone.
“Mmm, you feel tense. Want me to make it better?” Jungkook does his best to shake the feeling that Jimin is flirting with him. He wouldn’t― isn’t . Only when he finally meets Jimin’s eyes, he looks like he wants to devour him. Jungkook swallows, mouth gone dry.
“You can try.”
“Lay down.” Jimin says, and doesn’t wait before he’s pushing Jungkook over himself, face down in the fluffy down comforter. He twists his neck to breath as Jimin straddles his thighs and sits, pinning him down. How he manages to have Jungkook feeling much more relaxed already while simultaneously feeling as though he’s going to vibrate out of his skin is something of a mystery.
Jimin’s fingers trace up the groove of his spine, sending a very different sort of goosebumps prickling over his back. Jungkook can’t help the moan that slips out when Jimin’s thumbs dig into the meat of his shoulders. Oh fuck . Jimin just laughs.
“Pressure okay?” he asks after a minute. Jungkook almost forgets how to speak.
“Holy shit,” he rasps as Jimin works deep circles into the base of his spine. “Holy-”
“Hurts?” Jimin eases up a bit but doesn’t stop completely. Jungkook wants to scream at the lost sensation.
“No.”
“Oh.” Jimin shifts up off of his thighs to sit on the bed beside instead. “Good.”
When his fingers find the knot just west of his shoulder blade― the giant knot that’s been there for weeks probably, fucking up his mojo, aching during dance practice, making long flights feel like hell― Jungkook can’t hold back his noises.
“Hnng oh my God, that’s― ahhh,” he groans. “Shit.”
Jimin makes an odd, choking sort of noise in the back of his throat. “You alright down there?”
“Yes.” Jungkook gasps. “Don’t stop.”
Jimin goes very quiet then. His fingers work in deft little circles and Jungkook can feel the tension seeping out of his muscles as Jimin works out the knot. He swears he blacks out for one relieved minute before Jimin stops, hands just resting over his back, warm and unmoving.
“Kook can you turn over?”
Jungkook obliges him instantly, heaving himself over to stare up at Jimin, hovering over him with a strange expression on his face, like he’s just seen something both terrible and inspiring at once and can’t quite figure out how to feel. It makes him look a bit froggish.
Jimin notices him staring and frowns. “Close your eyes, don’t make it weird.”
Jungkook’s eyes fall shut on their own a second later anyway when Jimin goes for the top of his dense thigh. After a long moment he leans over to reach the other side and that’s when Jungkook feels it― the barest of brushes against his thigh. Soft but unmistakable.
His eyes fly right back open. He hones in on Jimin’s crotch, suspiciously bulging through those flimsy silk pajama pants. Odd, Jungkook can’t remember him ever wearing something like that before. It’s not really his style. Jimin appears to follow the line of his gaze and yanks the flaps of his robe together, effectively masking the bulge. Too late.
Don’t say anything , Jungkook tells himself, don’t say anything, don’t make it weird . And yet his mouth seems to fall open of its own accord. “Are you… hard?”
Jimin’s stare is unwavering, feels like it’s boring a hole right into kook’s brain, baring all his deepest thoughts and unrecognized desires. His eyes burn into what feels like his very core, and he has the sudden, irrational fear that Jimin is reading his thoughts, exposing secrets he himself is unaware of. And then the intensity breaks like a wave, dissipates like a thick marine fog, and Jimin’s laughing, bright and loud. Jungkook can feel how hot his own ears go at the sound. He shouldn’t be the embarrassed one here he tells himself. And yet he is― painfully so.
“Kook you’re hilarious,” Jimin says, patting him atop the head like a dog. Abruptly Jungkook is much less convinced that Jimin wants to fuck him. His signals are all mixed up. Jimin’s been a little off all night and Jungkook is tired. He may have misjudged. And misseen and mis-felt. If that’s even possible. Boys are confusing. Jungkook, as a fellow boy, can attest.
“I am?” he asks and watches the way Jimin eyes squinch up, the way his chest heaves with the effort of suppressing giggles. He rolls away to the other side of the bed and buries his face in his hands.
“You’re so―”
And that’s when the second knock comes, cutting him off.
Jungkook, out of pure instinct, hurls himself off the side of the bed. He bangs his elbow on the hard floor and curses. Jimin snickers over his shoulder.
“Jungkook!” Taehyung is yelling, drumming his fingers obnoxiously against the wood.
Jungkook peels his body off of the floor and looks around, panicked. The sudden hot flash of guilt is inexplicably there, alongside a nonsensical urge to hide.
“Who is it?” he yells back, stalling.
Taehyung says something he can’t quite make out about a liveshow. Shit.
“Hold on,” Jungkook calls, rushing to find his pants. Why can’t he find his damn pants? “I’m not wearing clothes.” He trips over a pair of shoes on his way to the closet. “Wait a second.”
Jimin jumps up from the bed to help him and they get into a tiny scuffle as Jungkook fights to get the jammed zipper on his suitcase open. Jimin’s hands reach around him and tug Jungkook’s away from his suitcase.
“He’s on live,” Jungkook hisses, slapping him away.
Jimin slaps him right back. “I know doofus. Here, put this on.” Jimin slips off his own robe and shoves it into Jungkook’s hands. Jungkook doesn’t have the chance to get a good look at him before he slips into the dark bathroom and ducks around the edge of the door.
“Why are you hiding?”
Jimin motions for him to shush and steps back to be completely engulfed in the darkness. Creepy.
“You’re not wearing clothes?” Taehyung is still rapping at the door, teasing. “Are you naked, Jungkookie?”
Jungkook yanks the door open and puts his month of acting lessons to good use. Taehyung’s grin is suggestive, like he knows exactly what was going on this entire time. Of course there’s no way he does, no way he has any idea what Jungkook was doing just a minute ago, thinking about his best friend like that. No way.
“I’m uh, not wearing pants,” he says by way of greeting and Taehyung laughs, giddy.
Jungkook has very little recollection of the things he says and does in that vlive. He definitely tells a few lies that he really doesn’t need to to cover his tracks, definitely glances suspiciously off camera a few too many times to be quite natural. Taehyung leaves eventually with a promise to go visit Jimin’s room next, and Jungkook neglects to mention that Taehyung certainly won’t find him there.
As soon as the door closes behind him Jimin steps out of the bathroom, squinting up into Jungkook’s face with an exasperated sort of look. “Did you have to turn on every single light in this place?” Jimin reaches to flick of the hall light and Jungkook’s eyes take a moment to readjust. He blinks as Jimin comes back into focus, stepping closer.
“I look bad in low lighting.”
“Oh Kook.” Jimin sighs, patting him on the head with a sort of matronly fondness. “The cutest.”
Jungkook doesn’t object this time, still a bit shaken, a bit whiplashed from all the turns this night had taken. The way Jimin is looking at him now, with that doting little half-smile, it’s easy to imagine he’d managed to misconstrue everything. Jimin isn’t attracted to him, he’d just been bored and in the mood to fuck around. So why does Jungkook feel so disappointed when he leaves with nothing but a parting glance? Jungkook lingers in the doorway, long after Jimin has disappeared down the hall, the tiniest ache of longing tugging in his chest.
__________
Seoul
Preparing for tour is always busy, full of long days and long nights in what can feel like an endless cycle at times. Jungkook gets it― sometimes they just need a release, something to relieve the tension for a moment, a distraction. They’re all healthy young men― it’s bound to happen. He understands as much as any of them how frustrating it can be living in a dorm with six other dudes, any number of which might be able to see you, smell you, hear you at any given moment.
Also like… watching six sweaty, hot dudes hip thrust and grind around the practice room all day can be like torture sometimes. Or maybe that one’s just Jungkook. Either way― he gets it.
What he doesn’t get is why Taehyung has to be so loud about it.
Like right now, his throaty groans are just loud enough for Jungkook to hear with startling clarity from the next room over. Those dorm walls have always felt plenty thick until the sex noises started pouring through. Jungkook crams in a pair of headphones and ducks under the blanket and he can Still. Hear. Everything. The muted, wet sounds of slapping skin seem to seek out his eardrums and bounce around his brain as he squirms. He dials up the volume in his headphones to near deafening levels, and he must be going crazy, but he swears the noises get louder.
Jungkook is fairly certain Taehyung doesn’t have a girl in there, or at least, he thinks he probably would have noticed some strange woman entering the dorm. It sure sounds like it though, he can’t imagine Taehyung making half those noises by himself. He’s usually more the type for slow, near silent jerkoffs in the dead of night. Jungkook shouldn’t know this; he knows he shouldn’t know this but… it doesn’t change the fact that he does. Only it’s currently four in the afternoon, loud as hell, and Taehyung is checking none of those boxes.
And then there’s the sound, that unmistakable sound of another person moaning. Holy shit. Holy shit. Jungkook has to yank out his earbud to be sure and there it is again, that high, breathy moan. Okay, so he was wrong, Taehyung does have a girl in there. And boy is she vocal. Jungkook is going to be permanently scarred. He tells himself that even though he can feel his dick twitching against his thigh in his spiderman pajama pants. Nice.
The way he sees it, there are two options. He either stays in the dorm and listens longer, quite possibly busting a fat nut to the sound of his best friend having gross, loud sex, OR he puts on some real pants, flees the building immediately, and spends the next twenty minutes scrubbing his mind clean of this entire day.
“Oh shit!” Taehyung shrieks through the wall. Jungkook squeezes his cock almost reflexively, and then immediately releases his grip, as if he’s been burned. He chokes at the stifling wave of residual pleasure.
Nope. Option two it is. Jungkook crams on a pair of sweatpants over his pajamas and makes a break for the lobby. He has no mind for the front door slamming behind him as he bolts through the hallway. He nearly collides with Namjoon and Yoongi, stepping off the elevator with an armful of shopping bags.
“Where are you going?” Namjoon frowns, perhaps recognizing the look of primal fear in Jungkook’s eyes. “What happened?”
Jungkook manages to dodge his grasping hand, sidestepping the both of them to dart into the elevator. “Nowhere! Bye!” He jabs the door close button and watches their befuddled looks as the doors slide swiftly shut. Maybe he should have warned them of the horrors that lay ahead.
Oh well.
He books it to the cafe down the street, the one that’s frequented entirely by old people. They have a kind of shitty wifi connection but it’s always a go-to when he doesn’t want to run into any fans. He orders a hot chocolate and sits in the corner, sips his drink til it goes cold. He spends what feels like eons trying to wipe his mind of the memory and that odd, misplaced sense of guilt, but it’s really not working.
He can’t imagine what Taehyung could have been doing in there. Actually that’s a lie. He can. Quite vividly in fact. More like he can’t believe that Taehyung would do something like that in the dorms without any kind of heads up, or planning, or forethought, or common sense . Hookups like that were irresponsible, at worst dangerous: bad, awful, terrible publicity if they got caught by the press or the girl blabbed and a years-worth of lecturing if they got caught by the company. Would Taehyung risk all that for ass? The answer is a resounding maybe.
Jungkook has a headache.
Precisely six days and 14 hours post-freakout, Jungkook has finally come into a state of acceptance. Or maybe just repression. Is that what you call it when you deny reality so aggressively you can almost trick yourself into believing there is no issue? Because that seems like a pretty accurate synopsis. As far as Jungkook knows, Taehyung doesn't know what he knows, and if Taehyung doesn't know what he knows, then he knows he wants to keep it that way. Which means for all intents and purposes, he knows nothing. It's chill.
Tonight is their first evening off in a while, and Jungkook had already decided in the car on the way home exactly how he would be spending his time, committed to ignoring everyone in favor of getting in some sweet, sweet gaming time and some much needed rest.
Of course Taehyung would ruin that.
In general, Taehyung doesn't have a penchant for ruining things, perse, but there have been a few striking exceptions to that rule. He has ruined a lot of things, like Jungkook's watch when he dropped it in the bathtub, Jimin's ipad― when he dropped it in the bathtub, and Namjoon's earbuds― when he dropped them in the toilet. Also Jungkook's innocence, but that comes a bit later.
Jungkook is sitting in his bedroom, huddled below the loft in his custom-designed blanket bundle when Taehyung slips in. He doesn't hear the door open and close, but he feels it when cold hands encircle his throat and squeeze, just tight enough to make him believe, if only for a split second, that he is about to be murdered in the confines of his own home. He jolts so hard his headphones slip sideways and he can hear that evil giggle that is distinctly Taehyung's.
"Jesus fucking christ."
"Oye who are you talking to like that." Taehyung tugs on his earlobe sharply. Jungkook bats his hand away with a scowl and Taehyung laughs again. "Did I scare our little baby Jungkookie?"
Of course Jungkook has to shut off his game then so he can properly wrestle Taehyung to the ground and show him his place. Taehyung writhes and squeals the whole time, but he doesn't fight back with his usual gusto, instead lets Jungkook manhandle him around a bit while he cackles and tries his best to pinch Jungkook's cheeks. He's enjoying it far too much in Jungkook's opinion. It's not much of a victory. He stops when they both start to get sweaty, and Taehyung's ruffled hair and flushed face starts to make him blush too.
Taehyung beats Jungkook to his own chair and spins wildly a few times before he immediately starts messing around with the clutter on Jungkook's desk.
"Must you fiddle with everything?"
"Yes," Taehyung says seriously, snatching up Jungkook's headset and putting it on himself backwards. "My fiddling is the only thing that brings balance to the universe."
Jungkook tries to grab for his headset but Taehyung dodges him easily. "Shut up."
"Make me."
"Pretty sure I already did."
"Oh really? Huh I don't seem to recall that." Taehyung picks up one of Jungkook's cameras-- his nice new one that he would really hate to see laying in pieces on the floor. He removes the lens cap with surprisingly careful fingers and points the camera directly into Jungkook's face. "Smile."
Jungkook ducks out of the shot but Taehyung snaps away anyway.
"Why are you so annoying?"
Taehyung snickers and sets the camera back down on the desk. He pokes Jungkook's thigh with his big toe and Jungkook scoots back enough to let Taehyung join him on the floor. The space is cramped, but Taehyung still presses much closer than necessary, so that their knees are bumping together and Jungkook can smell that he's been using Jimin's soap again.
"I don't know." Taehyung waggles his eyebrows ridiculously. "Why are you so loud?"
"I'm loud?"
"Mmm hmm. By far the loudest in this house. I can always hear you screaming at that game through the wall."
"You..." Jungkook balls his fist at his side, just out of Taehyung's view. "Can hear me through the walls?"
Taehyung blinks back at him evenly. "Yep."
Jungkook cannot tell if Taehyung is being this purposely blank because he's clueless or he's actually being very directed and waiting for Jungkook to catch on. Either way, Jungkook's composure is crumbling fast. Just like that it's all bubbling back to the surface: the guilt, fear, desire... annoyance .
"Just to clarify..." Jungkook says very slowly. "You think I make a lot of noise. And you can hear me through that wall."
The corner of Taehyung's mouth twitches. He nods.
"I see." Jungkook uncurls his cramping fingers and runs them down the outside seam of his sweats instead, anything to keep his hands occupied, anything to seem natural and normal and not like he's freaking out, which he isn't. "And have you ever thought--" Don't say it. Jungkook's brain screams. Don't fucking say it. "That I could hear you too?"
"Oh, I'm aware." Taehyung says and glances surreptitiously at the wall above Jungkook's bed.
His heart feels heavier than usual, thudding away against his ribcage.
"What exactly is it that you're aware of?"
Taehyung cocks his head with that dumb, dopey, puppy look of his that always seems to render Jungkook speechless. Not today. "What do you mean?" His eyelids flutter spastically, like there's something in his eye. "Are you trying to suggest something?"
And Jungkook figures Taehyung must be playing dumb at this point, because honestly he's not sure how much clearer he could be.
"Are you? " he counters.
"Am I?"
Jungkook hesitates a moment. "Wh― I don't know. Are you?"
Taehyung looks genuinely confused now, squinting narrowly at Jungkook through a canopy of self-doubt. "I― no. I don't think so." A beat passes in weird, off-kilter silence.
"Are you sure?"
Taehyung considers that for a moment. "...no?"
"Christ."
"Hold on, I'm so confused." Taehyung sinks back until his head hits against the cold metal door of the mini fridge-- yet another needless hunk of junk that only adds to the constant clutter and chaos that is his bedroom. "Is this your way of asking if I..." He pauses and swallows, makes a face like he can't quite figure out how to phrase what he wants to say next it. How does one put delicately into words the timeless tradition of the hit it and quit it; the smash and dash; the nail and bail. Luckily Jungkook, in an unusual bout of directness takes care of that for him.
"Who's the girl?"
"Huh?"
"The girl you were fucking?"
Taehyung's brow creases for a fraction of a second before he lets out a highly unflattering snort and slaps Jungkook on the chest. " What?" He shoves Jungkook hard enough to topple him over onto the rug. "Stop fucking around, I thought you were serious for a second."
Jungkook pushes himself up off the floor and rubs at his sore shoulder "Wh-- I was. "
Taehyung giggles at that, but his smile dims somewhat when he catches the look on Jungkook's face. His hand cups Jungkook's over his shoulder, and if Jungkook just twisted his hand a bit he could lace their fingers together like nothing. Instead he slips his hand away and tucks it into his lap. Taehyung grips his shoulder in a way that Jungkook supposes is meant to pass for comfort, but it only makes his heart beat incrementally faster.
"I can't actually tell if you're kidding or not, but either way that's hilarious."
Jungkook can feel that he's pouting even as he tries his very darndest not to. "How is that funny," he grumbles. "You were so loud I bet the whole building could hear it.”
"It wasn't even― wait really? " Taehyung interrupts his own train of thought, perking visibly. "You think so?"
"Huh? No, don't be disgusting. I was exaggerating obviously. You're so weird."
Taehyung sits back on his hands with a sigh. “Oh.” he clears his throat at a very directed look from Jungkook. “I mean, yeah good. That would have been terrible. Oh no.”
“Nice. Real believable.”
Taehyung just shrugs.
“So I take it you don’t want to reveal her identity. Is it someone scandalous? Oh my God is it Hoseok’s sister?”
Taehyung regards him for a long moment, eyes narrowed to slits. His nostrils flare; he says nothing. Finally he lets out a weird little grunt in his throat and opens his mouth. “Jungkook.” He looks unusually serious and it makes Jungkook’s stomach lurch with inexplicable nerves. “Do you really think I would bring some random girl to the dorm to fuck? Do you actually believe that I’m that much of an idiot?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not an utter buffoon, I would never jeopardize our team like that for ass.”
“Well if it wasn’t Hoseok’s sister then who was it?”
“Jimin. ” Taehyung says. Jungkook gets the distinct sense that there’s something Taehyung ’s trying to communicate through that statement, but it’s really quite vague. Kind of odd for a joke, but Taehyung’s kind of an odd guy.
Jungkook blinks rapidly. “What do you mean?”
“Jimin,” Taehyung repeats. “It was literally Jimin.” It’s really a pretty shitty joke. As if Jungkook would ever believe that. Unless―
“Oh my God.” Jungkook feels a mounting pressure just behind his skull, throbbing out a beat to the tempo of his own quickening heartbeat. “Wait― Jimin?”
“Yup.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how Taehyung can say it so casually, not while his entire mind is being blown as they speak. “You and Jimin?”
“Well you don’t have to say it like that, it’s really not that weird.”
“Not that weird?” Jungkook yelps. “You fucked Jimin― Jimin .” He presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. “Was it planned― did you guys plan it or did it just happen?” And why does he feel the slightest tug of jealousy just thinking about it. “All those noises― holy shit what were you even doing? You know what, don’t answer that.” He peeks out from between his fingers. “Actually answer it if you want, I’m kinda curious. Did it hurt?”
Taehyung looks a bit overwhelmed at the barrage of questions but also more than a little pleased. “Well I mean we fuck all the time, so―”
“You do?”
Taehyung frowns deeply. “I… yes. Yes, I have slept with my boyfriend more than once.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Jeez. You’re really slow on the uptake huh?”
Apparently he is, because he hadn’t seen this coming in a thousand years. “Dude.”
Taehyung nods in confirmation. “Dude.”
Okay. This is okay. He’s just going to take a deep breath, digest, and chill the fuck out. “Wow.” He can’t help but let his eyes roam up and over Taehyung’s body then, trying to envision what it might be like to see him how Jimin had all those times. Taehyung, humiliatingly, seems to take immediate notice of this and raises an eyebrow. “What? Got something to say?”
“Nope, not at all.” Jungkook tears his eyes away and refocuses on that stain on the rug. It’s a very interesting shape, that stain. “I am definitely not at all curious about all the sex you are apparently having with Jimin.”
“Ooh-kay,” Taehyung looks like he doesn’t quite believe him as he stands up and straightens out his pant legs. He makes it all the way to the door before he turns back, and that’s a mischievous look if Jungkook’s ever seen one. “Let me ask you one question, then.”
Jungkook hesitates to grant him that, but it doesn’t really matter, Taehyung says what he wants when he wants to and Jungkook’s not foolish enough to think he’ll ever change that. “Sure.”
“Did you like it?” His eyes hone in, sharp and amused.
Jungkook is pretty sure his blush could be visible from space. “I’m not answering that.”
Taehyung snickers. “That’s a yes.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” He winks. “Goodnight Jungkookie.” When the door slams behind him Jungkook counts out five long seconds before he buries his face into his pillow and screams.
______
Bangkok
He should have known all those years ago that Jimin would come to use that room key for evil.
Of course those punks crash his live stream― because that’s what they do. They make his life more difficult at every turn and they do it for the hell of it. They’re obnoxious, intrusive to boot, and always bothering him in those moments when he really, really wants his alone time. He struggles to fathom sometimes how he can stand them. But. He also loves them― loves them lots, and still there’s that ever present niggling in the back of his mind, telling him he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. So, perspective. Taehyung comes trouncing in just seconds after Jimin does, and the both of them quickly, efficiently, and completely derail everything he had planned, which had been, admittedly, not much.
And then, after a whole two minutes pass and they’re inevitably bored, they commence fucking with him. Jungkook can tell they’re doing it on purpose because the corner of Jimin’s mouth keeps twitching with the effort of suppressing his smirk. Taehyung starts belting out a power ballad loud enough to wake up the whole floor and Jimin won’t stop staring intensely into his face, like there’s something he’s searching for. When Jungkook meets his gaze he doesn’t blink, just looks deep into his eyes and what feels like his soul. For a single, heart-stopping moment, Jungkook feels the phantom press of lips over his, and a wild, irrational desire for Jimin’s breath exhaled into his own mouth. He leans in, forgets about the camera and the fans and the everything for a moment and parts his lips, just a hair.
“End the live,” Taehyung says from the other side of the room, and it all comes crashing right back over him. He just manages to tear his eyes away from Jimin’s, barely remembers how to breathe for a second as he reorients himself, flinching almost imperceptibly away from Jimin’s probing gaze. Taehyung is watching them with a tiny smile that just barely lifts the corners of his lips, looking for all the world like he knows some secret the rest of the world could only hope to uncover. Jungkook’s heart feels like it plummets forty feet off a roof.
“Why should I?” he asks with every ounce of composure he can forcibly embody.
Taehyung bites away a full blown smirk. “To have some― private conversation.” And it’s more than clear from the low timbre of his voice, from the way his teeth tease over his fat bottom lip and his eyes go dark, exactly what he means.
Jungkook barely suppresses a shudder, somehow manages to hesitate for only a split second before he gives in, like always , to Taehyung’s goading. “How long has it been, thirty five minutes?” He checks the video timer. Jimin leans over him, arms folded to keep his robe from falling open around his naked chest, and shoves his own face in front of the camera. “I guess I gotta go then,” he tells the back of Jimin’s head. He’s surprised the microphone doesn’t pick up the sound of him swallowing hard.
“Goodnight.” Taehyung chirps, abruptly dropping the sex persona, and prances over like nothing.
“Goodnight―” Jungkook starts, but Taehyung cuts off the stream before he can finish.
Taehyung looks meaningfully over his shoulder, at Jimin who looks unduly pleased to be standing there in Jungkook’s freezing cold hotel room wearing nothing but a bathrobe, furry slippers and a dangerous grin.
“Soo…” Jungkook says after a long moment passes in nerve-wracking silence. No one moves a muscle, and for a second it’s as if time has frozen with Jungkook, a little lamb, trapped here between two lions. He hates the way that image makes him feel― a little helpless, but not in a completely bad way.
Jimin’s fingers dance over his chest, teasing at the collar of his tee shirt, tugging just far enough to make a gap between the fabric and his skin. He peers down at Jungkook’s chest with a predatory smile.
“Um.” Jungkook stops his own hand, raised reflexively to bat Jimin away. It flops awkwardly back into his lap. “Can I help you?”
“Mmm, I sure hope so,” Taehyung purrs, sliding in close to flank Jungkook’s other side. He leans down to whisper, hand weighing heavy on the back of Jungkook’s neck. “Get on the bed.”
Jungkook gulps. “Why?” Very distantly, he recognizes that he is probably being willfully stupid. Very, very distantly, he recognizes this for what it is. And yet he can’t be certain, because none of it makes any sense at all.
“Just do it.” Taehyung says, and meets no resistance when he guides Jungkook up out of his chair to sit on the edge of the bed. “See, not that hard.” He pats Jungkook on the head patronizingly and a triumphant smile breaks over his face when Jungkook makes no effort to pull away. He almost never lets Taehyung get away with that.
Currently, however, Jungkook is trying and failing to appear collected as two of the most objectively attractive men he has ever seen won’t stop giving him bedroom eyes. They must know they’re doing it, must think it’s hilarious how how Jungkook gets all riled up from a smirk and half a touch. That’s the only reason they would do this, to tease him endlessly.
“Ugh. Not like that.”
Jimin shoves him, not hard but it’s unexpected enough that Jungkook goes tumbling back anyway. It seems only a split second after his back hits the mattress that they’re on him, leaning over him with matching expectant grins. He waits for them to speak. They don’t. Jimin threads a hand through his hair gently and scritches his scalp, and all the tension he keeps coiled tight in his shoulders begins to slowly seep out. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep them open. It reminds him suddenly and painfully of those days before debut that were a continuous swirl of anxiety, those days when the only thing that could calm him down at all were Namjoon’s soft humming and hands on him, stroking.
“So.” Taehyung clears his throat, and it breaks the tiny reverie he’d gone into under the press of Jimin’s fingers and the weight of his gaze. They’re both looking down at him still, and it suddenly feels much too vulnerable on his back like this. Still, he doesn’t sit up.
“So,” he echos. “You wanted to talk?”
“Not really.” Jimin kneels up by the side of his head and does not elaborate any further.
“Okay…”
Taehyung pinches the inner crease of Jimin’s thigh, dangerously close to his crotch and Jimin slaps his hand away with a quiet yelp. “Or maybe we do.” Taehyung cocks his head as he stares deep into Jungkook’s drooping eyes. “What did you think we wanted to talk about?”
Taehyung’s face is so distracting when he arranges it like that, all serious and pensive. It’s not a side of him he sees very often― Taehyung is rarely so thoughtful as to . “I-I don’t know,” he stutters. He’s not sure he could even recall his home address right now, his thoughts are so jumbled.
Taehyung squeezes his bicep with warm, strong fingers. “Sure you do.”
Jungkook shakes his head, looks to Jimin for help. Jimin offers none, just has an odd, smug sort of look on his face and won’t quite meet Jungkook’s eyes. “I really don’t,” Jungkook says.
“Jungkook, you small, special bean.” Jimin shakes his head slowly, fondly. He pats Jungkook on the stomach a few times and then lets his hand linger there, hovering just above the waistband of his sweatpants. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re actually this dumb or you just play it really well.”
Jungkook fishmouthes for a moment at his harsh words, spoken in such a deceptively sweet tone. “I’m literally so confused right now.”
“Are you blind?” Jimin lets out a noise halfway between a groan and a scoff. “We’re trying to seduce you. How much more obvious could that be?”
Taehyung sighs and sits back on his heels. His hand releases Jungkook’s arm and leaves a cold spot in its wake. “Aww way to ruin it. Jungkook’s so fun when he’s acting all dumb and clueless.”
“Then imagine how much fun I have with you on a daily basis,” Jungkook snaps― more as a reflex than anything. He barely registers his own words because he’s reeling so hard.
“Damn.” Jimin scoffs. “That was a second degree burn. I think you’re gonna want some ice for that one.” His hand still hasn’t moved from Jungkook’s stomach. His small hand spans just enough of his abdomen, not too heavy, but still effective in pinning him to the spot.
“Both of you shut up. You’re ruining the mood now.” Taehyung pouts. Jimin mocks his expression and Taehyung shoves him over into the mass of pillow. His hand slips off of Jungkook’s stomach as he tumbles back and Jungkook is free to sit up and stare at both of them in abject shock.
“Whoa whoa whoa hold on, what. You’re trying to do what?”
Taehyung frowns. “Were you not listening? This is us, trying to seduce you.” He wiggles his fingers in Jungkook’s face for effect.
“Both of you? At the same time? Me?” Something about this― no, everything about this is beyond confusing. Jungkook feels like his mind must be breaking down because nothing about this situation computes. Why would Taehyung and Jimin of all people want to seduce him. Unless― oh God, unless they knew. He’d tried so hard to act normal but they’d seen right through it. And now here they were, in his hotel room, asking for a threesome― holy shit.
“Got it figured out yet genius?” Jimin raises an eyebrow. Jungkook tries and fails to piece together a sentence that is not just unintelligible garbling. He was so blind. Holy shit, he was so blind. How did he not see this coming how did he―
“No need to be mean,” Taehyung says. “Our Jungkookie’s always been a bit dense.”
“Sorry, I get snappy when im anxious.” Jimin leans into the touch, nuzzles his cheek into Taehyung’s palm. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet watching it now it somehow seems shockingly, disturbingly intimate. But somehow it’s also very right.
“Dude. what.” Jungkook must be gaping like an idiot now but he can’t seem to force his mouth shut.
“I can’t tell what kind of tone that was supposed to have. Is this a good or bad dude?
“Dude.” Jungkook blinks in stunned sort of acceptance. Taehyung looks a little confused.
“Dude?”
Jimin slaps his arm. “Stop saying dude, we’re not fucking American frat boys. Jungkook, are you in or not? No pressure of course.” He flashes a tiny, hopeful sort of smile then, but Jungkook is certain he would back off in an instant if that’s what Jungkook wanted.
“Let me think about it.” Jungkook blinks two times in quick succession. “Okay I thought about it, I’m in.”
“Oh.” Jimin pauses for a long second. He shoots Taehyung a look that Jungkook can’t quite decode. “Good. You should take your shirt off now.” He shuffles back down to hover over Jungkook’s lap before he can think to move, fingers coming to rest on his hip just inches from his dick. Holy shit , Jimin is gonna touch his dick soon. It’s a revelation that does something terrible to his stomach. He’s almost trembling with anticipation.
“Whoa. that was direct,” he says, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.
“Thank you,” Jimin says, and bites hard into Jungkook’s thigh.
“Ow, fuck.”
“Sorry,” Jimin says, but he doesn’t look very sorry. He motions for Taehyung, who appears frozen, watching them with rapt sort of attention. Immediately he jerks forward and presses his body in close to Jungkook’s, all warm, solid heat. His touches start hesitant at first, but soon he’s touching, stroking everywhere his hands can reach― Jungkook’s back, his chest, his shoulders. He squeezes his big hands around Jungkook’s thighs and groans.
“Always wanted to know what that felt like.”
“You’ve felt my thighs before,” Jungkook says, slightly breathless and more than a little embarrassed.
“Not like this,” Taehyung gives his quads a long, generous grope. “God, I love these.”
Jungkook does his best not to blush but he knows he’s failing when he feels the heat burning in his cheeks. He distracts himself by running his hands up under Taehyung’s shirts and feeling out the dips of his ribs through his smooth, endless skin.
Jimin catches him by the chin then and pulls him in, fits their lips together easily, like it’s nothing. It’s everything. Jungkook has never been kissed the way Jimin is kissing him. In fact, he hasn’t been kissed much at all, but he never imagined he was missing out on much until now. Jimin’s lips are soft and sweet, gentle and demanding. Jungkook makes an embarrassing little whining sound before he can stop himself. Jimin takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, hot and deep, and Jungkook lets his head fall back so Jimin can get a better angle. When Jimin pulls away to breath he buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s shoulder and lets his lips trail over his throat.
“Oh fuck,” Taehyung mutters, eyes all glazed over. “You guys should make out a lot more often.”
Jimin giggles into the side of his neck, high and breathy and overwhelmed. “We can definitely discuss that. Later,” he says and sinks his teeth into Jungkook’s shoulder.
“He really loves to bite,” Taehyung tells Jungkook fondly. “I think he was a vampire in his past life.”
Jimin’s voice comes out muffled into his skin. “That doesn’t make any sense. Vampires don’t even have souls so how could I possibly be reincarnated from one?” He sucks very lightly on Jungkook’s collarbone and it sends a hot chill down his spine. He kind of wishes he did have his shirt off now, wishes he could give JImin more space to work with
“Slander,” Taehyung declares. “Vampires are people too.”
“Is this what all your dirty talk is like?” Jungkook wonders aloud. Jimin smothers him in another deep kiss. Taehyung makes a pained little groan deep in his throat and his hands find Jungkook’s thighs again and squeeze once, firmly.
“No, it’s usually even hotter.” Taehyung’s hand finds the back of Jungkook’s neck and his fingertips brush and tickle at his nape. “My turn.”
Jimin’s lips pop slickly away and then Taehyung’s lips are on his in a second, heady and insistent. Taehyung kisses more sloppily than Jimin, more urgent, demanding. It’s still amazing, still makes Jungkook feels like he’s freefalling out of and airplane and looping through space all at once. It’s all he can do not to moan as Taehyung’s mouth opens under his and Taehyung does his very best to tongue fuck him into oblivion.
“Wow,” Jimin marvels. “That’s super fucking hot.”
Taehyung breaks away to huff a short, “I know, right?” before he’s reclaiming Jungkook’s lips and Jungkook is melting back into the sheets, body a warm puddle of goo. Jimin catches him before he can fall all the way and tries to wrestle him out of his shirt. Taehyung pulls back to help and together they yank it up over his head. Jimin lobs it across the room and Jungkook can’t even be bothered to care.
It seems like they’re both on him a second later. Jimin lets Jungkook’s head drop back onto the bed to clamber on top of him, settling right over his lap. Taehyung takes the opportunity to press up behind Jimin and tug at the flaps of his robe. It falls open around Jimin’s shoulders, baring that smooth expanse of unmarked skin and suddenly Jungkook understands the urge to bite. Taehyung’s hands dip low, fumbling with Jimin’s terry cloth belt before he manages to slip the knot out and pull the robe all the way off.
Jimin is completely naked underneath. Perhaps Jungkook should have expected that, and yet somehow the thought hadn’t crossed his mind as he’d been ravished by two willing, very hot boys. Jimin looks glorious in the nude. Taehyung seems to think so too; his hands rove all over Jimin’s body, pausing to circle around his nipples for a moment before they slip down his torso and one hand comes to circle his dick. Jimin slumps back into Taehyung’s chest and lets his eyes flutter closed as Taehyung jerks him off in long slow strokes.
Jungkook, if he hadn’t been completely hard already, is throbbing in his pants now. Jimin can probably feel his cock twitching against his ass. He lets out a low whine and Taehyung, finally glancing down at Jungkook’s face, chuckles breathlessly.
“You good down there? Just let us know if it’s too much or too fast.”
Jungkook nods and watches mutley the bow of Jimin’s neck, bared against Taehyung’s shoulder. He really wishes he could touch himself right now. He settles for grinding minutely up against Jimin’s ass. It’s not much friction but it’s enough for now, enough of an appetizer as he enjoys the view. The way Taehyung’s thumb circles the head of Jimin’s cock― transfixing. Jimin’s soft, flushed chest heaving under the wide splay of Taehyung’s hand― gorgeous. Jungkook wants to feel so badly, and it takes him a moment to remember that he can.
Jimin blinks his eyes open when he feels Jungkook’s hand join Taehyung’s and Jungkook hesitates, fingers hovering a breath away from skin.
“Go ahead,” Taehyung says, and guides Jungkook’s hand so that they can jerk him off together, Taehyung’s fingers laced over his. Jimin huffs a satisfied sigh and lets his head fall back again. Taehyung doesn’t let up until Jimin is twitching in their hands, squirming and writhing until he manages to shove both of them away and flop himself down on the bed next to Jungkook.
“Hey assholes.” He reaches up to poke Taehyung’s thigh, splayed around Jungkook’s. “How about don’t make me come before we can even start.”
Taehyung snickers at that while Jungkook blinks. What else could they possibly want with him. Jimin answers that question easily enough as he shoves Taehyung off of Jungkook and tucks his fingers into the waistband of his sweats. “Okay?” He blinks up at Jungkook, eyes searching his face for an ounce of hesitation. Jungkook nods fervently and raises his hips so that Jimin can shimmy his pants down his thighs to join his shirt on the floor. Taehyung, still wearing that god-awful silk pajama suit, sucks a breath through his teeth.
“Huh,” he says, “Much prettier than what I was envisioning.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Definitely flattered.” Taehyung leans forward to loom over him, breath ghosting over the hot, flushed skin just below his belly button. “May I?” He motions to Jungkook’s dick.
“Awfully polite for a blowjob,” Jungkook mutters, gut swooping. He glances at Jimin, who looks terribly eager to see his boyfriend suck off another guy. He isn’t exactly sure what the protocol is here, but he is sure of one thing.
“Do it,” he breaths, “No, wait― take your shirt off first.”
Taehyung doesn’t bother with the buttons, just whips it up over his head and then falls eagerly into Jungkook, elbow narrowly missing his groin. His lips find the head of Jungkook’s cock and kiss sloppily down the shaft. On his other side, Jimin groans.
“Get down here,” Taehyung grumbles, the barest hint of teeth almost teasing over his sensitive skin. Jungkook shudders as Jimin dips down to join him and their tongues tangle messily just over the head of his cock.
Taehyung places wet, lingering kisses to his hip bone while Jimin sucks him down and it’s this overwhelming, all-encompassing sort of heat that makes him jolt up spastically. Two pairs of hands come to pin him down as Jimin pulls off with a slurps and Taehyung dips in to take his place, slurping shallowly at the tip. They take turns like that― bobbing down his dick until the head bumps against the back of their throats. It is singularly the most erotic experience of Jungkook’s young life. Probably no other sexual encounter will ever compare to the way he feels watching two of his best friends slobber over his cock like they’re starving for it.
Jungkook is so close his thighs are cramping and spasming with the effort of not exploding. When they both finally pull away he feels all that deliciously building dissipates. His body feels like it’s sinking into the plush down of the comforter, and his breath comes out in harsh pants, loud even over the air conditioner and faint music still spilling from his speaker.
Taehyung and Jimin seem to have a silent debate of sorts― all raised eyebrows and meaningful nods before Taehyung finally, blessedly strips out of his pants and lays down next to Jungkook with his chin tipped on his shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t protest when Taehyung’s lips capture his, hums at the taste of himself in Taehyung’s mouth. Taehyung’s kisses alternate between gentle and biting and Jungkook lets himself relax for a moment, forget about the throbbing between his legs. Jimin shifts around on the bed below them, out of sight. Jungkook doesn’t realize what’s happening until Taehyung starts whimpering into his mouth, breathy cut-off gasps that tingle against Jungkook’s lips. When he looks down, Jimin has one hand petting over Taehyung’s flat, tanned stomach while the other moves almost out of sight.
“Holy shit,” Jungkook hisses, mesmerized as he watches Jimin work Taehyung open on three fingers. He’d been too distracted by Taehyung’s mouth to be privy to the slick, rhythmic sounds but now it’s all he can hear.
“Hey,” Taehyung grasps him gently by the chin and pouts. “Pay attention to me.”
Jimin smirks and jabs in roughly, jostling Taehyung’s splayed legs open further. Taehyung gasps and digs his heels into Jimin’s back. “You dick, are you almost done?”
“Aw, but I was enjoying myself.”
“I know something that I think we’ll both enjoy more.”
“Doubt it.” Jimin says, even as he pulls his fingers out slowly, gingerly and sits back on his heels. Taehyung presses a last lingering kiss to Jungkook’s cheek before he scrambles up to get to Jimin. Their kiss is more like sharing breath than anything, and yet of all of the things he’s seen tonight, this seems the most private. Jungkook wants to look away but he can’t quite bring himself to do it.
They get Taehyung settled back down, his head resting heavy on Jungkook’s thigh as Jimin arranges himself beneath them. Taehyung twists his head to the side to nuzzle up against his neglected dick and Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut tight as his abs clench and release.
“Open your eyes baby, you’re gonna want to see this.” Jungkook flushes at the name. Stupid really how that, of all things tonight, makes him blush the most. He looks down at Jimin obediently, who’s waiting, already nestled between Taehyung’s spread thighs. “Maybe after this you can take a turn. How would you like that Tae?”
“Hmmm, good.”
Taehyung is a vision splayed out on his back― his cheekbones look sharper somehow from this angle, his lips more harshly defined. Jungkook can’t seem to stop his hands from shaking each time his fingers brush against Taehyung’s cheeks, admiring. Jimin reaches up takes his trembling hands and places them over Taehyung’s chest, somehow firmer than he’d expected, burning under his palms.
“Relax, baby. All you have to do is watch. Would you like that?” Jimin says, as his hands slip away to grasp around the bend of Taehyung’s knees instead. Jungkook nods slowly, thumbs beginning to circle Taehyung’s nipples. Taehyung groans his approval from his nesting place in Jungkook’s lap.
Jimin presses in without much warning, and Taehyung thrashes against the sheets. Jungkook watches, enraptured as Jimin’s cock splits Taehyung apart and his hands press Taehyung’s legs open and up. Taehyung arches his neck as far back as it will go and breathes hard into the space between Jungkook’s hip and stomach. Jimin bottoms out and for a long, agonizing moment, no one moves. Jungkook’s harsh, near-desperate panting threatens to break the fragile peace inside the room.
Taehyung shifts himself back and forth minutely, trying to rock his hips down further onto Jimin’s cock and Jimin leans forward to plants his arms on either side of his chest. His eyes tilt up to meet Jungkook’s and he grins, cocky and too bright. Just like that, the spell is broken.
“Ready?” he murmurs. Jungkook can only nod, silent and wide-eyed as Jimin draws back to thrust in.
Jimin fucks Taehyung both like he’s meeting him for the first time and like he’ll never see him again. It’s contradictory in a way― gentle yet rough, as steady as it is tumultuous. Taehyung throws his head back into Jungkook’s lap and loves every minute of it. His face twists up as Jimin’s thighs meet the back of his over and over, until their soft, rhythmic slapping seems to be as natural as the state of things.
“Hold his legs open,” Jimin instructs, and Jungkook reaches down to hook his hands under Taehyung’s knees and drag them up to give him a better angle.
“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought you’d be,” Jungkook marvels.
Taehyung laughs, a little broken sounding as Jimin keeps punching in, slow and deep. “Yeah, well. I do this kind of a lot. It’s― ahhh”
He loses the rest of his words as Jimin does something particularly good with his cock. Taehyung twists up and keens, long and drawn out. He worms out of Jungkook’s grip and his legs wrap around Jimin’s waist, goading him on.
Jimin isn’t looking at Jungkook anymore, concentrated on Taehyung’s face as he rocks in hard, wrenching the most gorgeous, hitching gasps from his throat. Jimin watches Taehyung like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and in this moment, Jungkook’s not sure he has either. He starts to stroke himself, admiring the pure intensity of Jimin’s gaze on Taehyung’s face as he rocks all three of them up the bed. This feels like voyeurism at it’s peak, him gaping dumbly and openly as Jimin fucks Taehyung without a thought for anyone else in the world.
It’s disconcerting, really, how not a moment after he thinks this he has Taehyung’s lips back on his dick, mouthing sloppily down the side, and Jimin’s small hands pinning his thighs to the mattress. Taehyung’s hand squeezes his and the message is clear. He’s still a part of this― whatever it is. Jungkook lets himself get lost in the sensation of being touched like this, of being wanted. It’s only when he finds himself suddenly seconds from coming that he releases his cock with a gasp.
Jimin keeps up the fluid roll of his hips until he moans once, high and ringing and loses all coordination as he twitches forward into the relief of Taehyung’s body. He collapses forward when he comes, his head dropping to rest on Jungkook’s other thigh. Jungkook’s not sure what to do with his hands now that it’s over, can’t decide if he should just finish himself off before the mood’s been broken or if he should just excuse himself to the bathroom now for some privacy.
Jimin interrupts that train of thought as he heaves himself off of Taehyung’s chest and drags himself up to flop into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. He reaches down, first to smooth Taehyung’s hair out of his face, and then to stroke Jungkook’s dick, dry hand dragging deliciously rough over his sensitive skin.
“Baby you look so worked up,” Jimin coos, and Jungkook almost comes on the spot. “You wanna take a turn now, hmm? You wanna fuck Tae?”
Jungkook doesn’t think, just finds himself nodding frantically as Taehyung moans his approval. Jimin takes his place at Taehyung’s head and Jungkook scrambles to get down between Taehyung’s legs. “Not gonna last long,” he warns, fumbling to slick himself up.
“Good,” Taehyung mumbles into the side of Jimin’s thigh, “Me neither.”
Taehyung helps him line himself up and then Jungkook pushes in, slow and careful. He has to stop after just the head pops in and will himself not to come. Taehyung clenches around him like he knows exactly what Jungkook is trying to do and wants none of it. “More, I can take it,” he hooks his leg around to pull Jungkook in deeper. “Fuck me.”
“Someone’s eager,” Jimin snorts, then yelps a second later when Taehyung bites his thigh.
Jungkook sinks in to the hilt and moans helplessly; Taehyung is so so hot inside, so wet and clinging― perfect . He can already tell he's not going to be able to hold off for long. He pumps in once experimentally and Taehyung arches below him.
“Faster, harder.”
So Jungkook fucks him harder, fucks him until they’re both stifling groans into each others shoulders and Jungkook can’t find the presence of mind to even consider how weird it probably is to fuck his own bandmate while his boyfriend watches. It feels like only a few, short minutes in the intoxicating squeeze of Taehyung’s body that he finds himself hurtling towards climax. Taehyung’s wild panting and desperate, clutching fingers digging into his shoulder blades only spur him on.
“Gonna come already?” Taehyung chuckles breathlessly as Jungkook huffs heavily into the side of his neck, overwhelmed.
“Mmm, just look at him,” Jimin says, and his fingers dip in to caress the underside of Jungkook’s chin. His rhythm stutters as he looks up to find Jimin’s heady gaze on him― somehow has him feeling both safe and dangerously exposed all at once. “Gonna come for us baby?” Jimin strokes down the line of Jungkook’s jaw. “Do it baby, we wanna see.”
And there’s really nothing Jungkook can do then but tuck his head down, hitch a thigh over his shoulder, and go for it. It’s a blessing when Taehyung falls first, throws his head back with a wail and spills messily onto his own chest. His ass clenches mind-numbingly tight around Jungkook until he feels like he might actually pass out.
“Hnng,” he manages to garble before his vision goes blank and he loses all control over his vocal chords. He’s fairly certain, somewhere in the back of his head, that that long, desperate whining sound is coming from him, and yet he’s powerless to do anything but jerk forward, shallow and without finesse. His head goes fuzzy and his cock twitches and he hadn’t even thought to pull out― Jesus Christ― and now it’s too late and he’s coming inside Taehyung and it’s all he can do not to wail as his hips jerk erratically and he shudders out his release in the tight clench of Taehyung’s body.
“Oh God,” he moans shakily into the crease of Taehyung’s neck. “Shit, I didn’t mean to―” he whimpers low and broken as Taehyung clenches down again.
“Shhh,” Taehyung whispers. “You’re fine.” Someone’s hands are carding through Jungkook’s hair now― he can’t tell whose.
“He loves that dirty shit,” Jimin says, and Taehyung’s chest vibrates with laughter.
“I really do.”
Jungkook sucks in a few deep breaths before he pulls out with a squelch and peels himself from Taehyung’s body. Jimin stops him before he can try to get, probably a good thing because his legs feel like jello and he’s not sure he could stand just yet if he wanted to.
“Wait a second,” Jimin says and then he disappears into the bathroom. There’s the sound of running water and a moment later he returns back with a rag to wipe between Taehyung’s legs. Taehyung winces when he makes contact.
“Cold.” He shudders. Jungkook feels kind of terrible for causing that.
“Sorry, this would be a lot less messy if I’d just pulled out.” He twists his fingers together nervously, caught between making and attempt to help and convincing himself he’d only get in the way.
Taehyung bats at his wrist until he stops and grins radiantly through his sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead. “It’s fine. Worth it.”
“You’re gross,” Jimin snaps the washcloth against his calf.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
Jungkook feels compelled to look away as Jimin blows a raspberry into Taehyung’s stomach.
They clean up quickly and it’s only once they’re finished that Jungkook feels the first traces of awkwardness manifesting as he sits perched at the foot of the bed while Jimin and Taehyung stare at him with the same odd, distant look. Shit. He’d gone and fucked everything up hadn’t he? If only he had a single ounce of self control.
“We should go sleep in my bed,” Taehyung yawns. “This bed is kinda gross now.” Jimin finishes tying his robe shut and nods.
“O-oh. Okay,” Jungkook says, trying to swallow back his disappointment as they both walk to the door. It’s not like they have any obligation to stay and provide cuddles, but. It would have been nice. He hopes he’s not visibly pouting when Jimin turns around to look at him.
“Kook, what are you doing?”
“Um…” Jungkook is caught between two expectant stares and the phantom protection of the pillow wall he could easily construct between them if it came down to it. “Sorry, I didn’t know if I was invited or not. I didn’t want to intrude.”
“Intrude?” Taehyung looks at him like he’s grown two additional heads. “If we didn’t want you to intrude we wouldn’t have invited you into bed with us. “Come on, get up.”
Oh. Oh. Jungkook’s heart soars. He doesn’t skip to the door, but it’s a very near thing. Taehyung leads them down the hall and barely limps at all on the way, which is kind of impressive, Jungkook thinks. Perhaps more impressive is Jimin’s ass when he let his robe drop to the floor the minute the door closes behind them. Jungkook gapes, Taehyung lobs a pair of pajama pants at his head and giggles
It’s not long after that he finds himself tackled into bed, tucked between two squirming boys who won’t stop trying to tickle each other over him. He sighs dramatically. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here if this is how you’re going to act.”
Taehyung reaches around his waist to pinch his nipple in retribution and in front of him Jimin scrunches up his nose and looks offended. “I can’t believe you thought we wouldn’t invite you. Like how fucked up would it be if we just fucked you and dumped you immediately to go cuddle alone?”
“I don’t know, that’s not really an uncommon hookup protocol.”
Jimin frowns. “It’s not really a hookup though, we both really like you. Besides, not sure how casual it is when we’ve been trying to get with you for months.”
“Wh― you. You like me?” Which is not exactly news, and probably also not the most pertinent part of that statement, but it is the one the catches up with him first.
Jimin looks physically pained as he pinches Jungkook’s cheek. “God, how the fuck can you be so cute?” he looks to Taehyung, who giggles into the back of Jungkook’s neck. “How the fuck can he be so cute?”
“It’s a mystery we might never solve.” Taehyung snuggles deeper into his nape and sighs dreamily.
“Hey, wait a second.” Jungkook blinks. “Did you say months?”
“You cannot honestly tell me you didn’t pick up on that. We thought you were fucking with us for like a good three weeks ‘cause you were being so blase about the whole thing.”
“What?”
“Oh, come on.” Jimin pokes him. “The sexy massage― nothing? We literally had sex in the middle of the day when we knew you’d be listening. Which, retrospectively was a bad call cause you got all weird about it, but it was also pretty damn obvious.”
“How the fuck was that obvious?”
“I don’t know! We thought you’d hear it and maybe want to join in!” Taehyung pauses. “Huh, somehow that actually sounds a lot less apparent now.”
Jungkook groans.
“Well at least it worked out eventually.” Jimin waggles his eyebrows. “I would have waited another year if it meant we still got to do that.”
“Mmm,” Taehyung agrees. “Next time we’ll have to let you top Jimin, he’s way more flexible than I am.” Jungkook does not doubt that, and is both terrified and intrigued. He hadn’t dared hope as far as that.
“Next time?” he peeps.
“Well yeah― unless you don’t want to.” Jimin frowns. “If you don’t want any of this just tell us.”
“No-no-no, I want to. I definitely want to.” He can feel the tips of his ears getting red and hopes it’s not visible in the dark. “I like you guys too,” he mutters and then immediately buries his face in his hands. He feels like a twelve year old admitting his crush.
“Urg.” Jimin gurgles. “How are you literally the cutest boy to ever exist. Like what the fuck? What the fuck… What the fuck.”
“Seconded.” Taehyung says, “And that’s coming from the number two so you should be honored.”
“And who gave you that award, because I’m pretty sure it belongs to me.”
“Never.”
Play wrestling quickly devolves into making out heavily, and Jimin and Taehyung take turns licking deep into his mouth until they start to blur the boundary where each of them stop and the other begins. Eventually they fall asleep like that, tangled together under the covers, half dressed and kiss-drunk. Jungkook has never been more glad that Jimin held on to his hotel room key.