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The pitter-patter of raindrops falling on the hood of his jumper distracted his wandering mind. The sounds of his feet echoed in grimy alleyways and the splash of water whenever he came across a puddle, soothed away that unnamed thirst that had a home in the back of his brain. It helped. To listen to the lulling sounds around him and ignore the constant beating of drums in his head.
He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, wandering aimlessly and waiting for sleep to finally come to him in any shape or form. Whether that may be droopy eyelids and quiet minds, or soft breathing that bounced off walls in tiny rooms, he didn't care. He just needed the kind of sleep that would keep him blank for a couple of hours and give his mind a rest.
Jungkook looked up and flinched at the droplets that fell into his eyes but he enjoyed the cool feeling of it - soothing the buzzing under his skin. He stayed like that until he could feel his bones shivering and his teeth clacking together - the soaked feeling of his socks too uncomfortable to ignore.
Still, something caught his eyes. A source of light that seemed so out of place in the dark streets of this part of town - and his curiosity outweighed the need to get dry. Jungkook jogged over to the light and what he saw was a store. Lit with those dark blue neon lights that made his eyes sore and teary. The sign flashed on and off, seemingly old but that somehow only added to the appeal of it.
It was strange. The feeling that fluttered in his stomach when he gazed upon it. Maybe it was the rack of vinyls he saw behind the tinted glass and shutters, maybe it was the quiet warmth to it that pulled him in. Whatever it was Jungkook wanted more of it.
Upon opening the door a small bell jiggled above him, a comfortable tinkling sound that carried in the open space. His eyes wandered over the store for a bit and a smile stretched across his face, the type that reached his eyes and made his nose scrunch -because what kind of universal bullshit it was to stumble across a vinyl store of all places.
Jungkook walked in and closed the door behind him, that same neon blue filtering in, creating a tinted shadow that calmed his buzzing eyes. Racks upon racks of vinyls were before him. Cassettes and retro players were stacked upon shelves in neat lines and all kinds of old tapes were placed out for the hungry eyes of customers. Upon further inspection, Jungkook could even see some of those old Walkman’s he fell in love with as a kid and stole from his father every once in a while.
The pull of the store mesmerised him, brought that comforting mellowness to it that he craved so much. It resembled the type of comfort Jungkook adored the most. The comfort that he felt when light hit smoke at just the right angle, creating patterns in the air. The comfort that was soft, mellow and warm.
A small sniff pulled Jungkook out of the enchantment, so he turned around and was met with a presence that hadn’t bothered to make itself known. Smiling amused with something glinting in their eyes, “Don’t mind me, I didn’t mean to disturb.”
Jungkook opened his mouth and then promptly closed it. A series of apologies wafting through his brain but the man didn’t seem particularly bothered by his intrusion.
“‘M just looking.”
The man hummed, “You like them.” He walked closer and let the low glow of the lights wash over him. He grazed his ring clad fingers over the pieces of vinyl, set up in a neat order. From here Jungkook could get a good look at him and he found that once his eyes landed on the man he couldn’t stop staring. Skimming over every inch.
The shopkeeper had messy black hair that he kept at bay with a beanie. Strands stuck out in the front and fell across his eyes, creating a veil to hide behind. Thin-rimmed, round glasses sat on top of his nose that he scrunched every few seconds, sniffing a little as if he had a cold. He wore black sweats that hung loose on his hips and a white shirt that was so thin, Jungkook could make out his lithe figure underneath - finding it hard to swallow all of a sudden.
But what caught Jungkook’s attention was the stack of jewellery he wore, adorning his pale skin and catching the light of the small signs set above each section of the tiny store. Piercings all over his ears, silver dangling on his wrists and his fingers -
And his lips. A single hoop hugged his bottom lip, the silver digging into the plump skin and accentuating the fullness of them. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed how much he was staring. Not until he felt an icy gaze falling over him, questioning the silence that fell between them. “Looking for somethin’?” He cocked his brows but amusement filtered through his features.
Jungkook tore his eyes away and sorted through the vinyls before him, humming a low tune. Something that would calm his beating heart and the fluttering in his stomach - because the shopkeeper was still staring at him, “Just some good music and something to distract.”
“Good music I can give.”
Jungkook glanced up for a moment, finding the man’s gaze on him, “What about distraction?”
“Depends on what you need.”
“Just some company,” he shrugged, fiddling with the hem of his shirt just for the sake of doing something. Slowing down his racing thoughts.
“Well,” the shopkeeper skipped to his counter and hopped on. He lay back on his wrists and a quiet grin settled on his face. That was something Jungkook noticed about him immediately - he felt quiet. Benign. “All good company starts with a name.”
“Jungkook.”
“Well then, Jungkook-ssi, are you gonna stare at that one album or…?”
“Don’t I get a name?”
The shopkeeper smiled, softly, barely tugging at his lips - the ring around it prominent and catching the low light. Jungkook could feel the tightness of his throat, drying out with each moment he spent under those careful eyes. “I’m Jimin,” he offered.
“Jimin,” Jungkook repeated, tasting the name for himself and finding he liked how it rolled off his tongue. Sharp and still soft, curving in the right places. “This yours?” His hand flicked around the shop, eyes following the movement. Jimin hummed. “Seems unconventional.”
A low chuckle left Jimin’s lips before he shrugged, pulling his leg up to rest his chin on it while his eyes settled on Jungkook’s hands. Still fiddling but this time with the cover of a vinyl, “Like old stuff.”
“Guess we have that in common.”
“A Lifer, huh?” Jungkook glanced up, finding that it was hard to avoid Jimin. His voice was that kind of quiet, inviting sound that drew people in. So, Jungkook allowed Jimin’s voice to fill him up. Soft but husky, deep with that gravelly undertone that years of smoke leaves behind. There’s a scratchiness to it too, that Jungkook liked.
“Dunno,” he said simply. He wasn’t sure if that was what it was called. He heard the term from Yoongi-hyung a couple of times when he came back home with another three vinyl and some cassettes and tapes, that he probably didn’t need but wanted anyway. It wasn’t hard to find them and it wasn’t that expensive once you knew where to look - and Jungkook knew. He looked for them, found comfort in old things. In used things. “Just like the sound of it.”
“What’s it sound like to you?”
Jimin’s voice turned softer with each sentence, he noticed. Watching silently as if he were drinking in Jungkook’s every word and gesture. It made him think of his next few words a little longer. Knowing someone was watching.
“Scratchy,” he decided on, eventually. Jungkook put the vinyl he was playing with down and started to walk around a little, eyes wandering anywhere apart from Jimin. But even with the long pauses in Jungkook’s speech, Jimin didn’t interrupt. He listened. Attentive and quiet. “I like how authentic they feel, y’ know? Unpolished. Scratchy, sometimes messy and filled with static. I find it comforting,” his eyes glanced at Jimin. Sharp. Intent. Watching silently, “Don’t like the clean sounds all that much nowadays.”
For a moment, Jimin’s face is pulled in concentration, digesting the words almost as if he were trying his best to get an idea of what Jungkook was talking about. He didn’t say anything though. Wordlessly, he skipped off the counter to walk towards Jungkook and-
His heart was beating. Fast and loud, powerful enough that the thought occurred to him that maybe Jimin might hear it if he were close enough. Jungkook could feel his palms sweating which in hindsight, he knew was an overreaction but he couldn’t help it. Because Jimin was just… intense. Even with the proximity between them and that quiet, balmy feeling that surrounded him - his gaze was like ice. So intense, so deep and straightforward, as if he could see right through you.
But Jimin walked past him and put a stack of albums between them before he started rummaging through them one by one - clearly looking for something specific. Jungkook watched quietly until Jimin pulled out something and placed it in his hands.
Jungkook glanced up and found an amused smile on Jimin’s lips as he leaned against the wall, “Ella and Louis again?”
“ ‘Satch’ and ‘The Queen of Jazz’,” there’s a playful lilt to Jimin’s voice that Jungkook noticed. One that was also full of admiration, a special part in his heart reserved just for this, “Arguably the most influential figures of jazz history. True classics with that scratchiness that you like.”
“How did you know I like jazz?”
Jimin scratched the nape of his neck and rested his head against the wall, allowing the blue to wash over him, “I didn’t but I like it. Just know that it’s good and underappreciated in today’s society. Figured that’s your groove.”
It is. Not because he was trying to be like that - like Yoongi liked to claim - but because he genuinely enjoyed it. He liked the forgotten legends and the old sounds, liked the way it made him feel inside - the slow, groovy beat of trumpets and pianos sending him to a serene place where no one and nothing existed but music. It’s the feeling he searched for and the sounds made him crave more.
When Jungkook looked up he noticed how close Jimin was. Maybe he was close like that before and his mind was just too preoccupied with the thoughts that buzzed in his head but still, now he noticed. And noticing, was what made him feel hot underneath the layers of wet clothing he wore. What made his eyes drop to Jimin’s ring clad fingers, what made him wonder about what those hands would feel like, digging into his skin. The cold bite sure to send shivers down his overheated body.
Jungkook swallowed, “I’ll take it.”
Truly, he didn’t expect to be here so soon - washed over by neon lights. He didn’t expect to be standing here in front of Jimin’s store just five days later - but he didn’t have a chance, did he? So, there was no point in fighting it, especially when he noticed the small paper with a number on it slipped into the paper bag with his receipt.
From then on, Jungkook knew he was completely and utterly fucked because that meant he wasn’t the only one who felt it that night. The tension that was almost suffocating, filled with electricity and buzzing. That serene warmth that settled in his bones when he walked in, when he listened to that gravelly voice and that subtle accent that reminded him of home. Of seashores and sandy beaches.
He found the ring of the bell oddly comforting. The sound soothing away his tense muscles and the doubtful thoughts that plagued his brain. He caught Jimin’s eye for merely a second before the shopkeeper turned his attention back to the customer before him. A young girl, around their age, asking about tape recorders - though Jungkook couldn't make it out clearly, ears muffled by the rush in his veins that made his stomach flutter.
He needed a distraction, so Jungkook busied himself. Roamed the isles, coming to a halt at the section where Jimin pulled out the last album he took home. Jungkook filtered out the low chatter and zeroed in on the titles before him.
Aching fingers picked at the worn corner of the cases while his attentive gaze examined the faded titles and old band logos that were too waned by the years for him to make out. His eyes skimmed over the deteriorating covers but he thought it added a certain charm to the place. The used, the old, the worn out. Stories and memories lost between cracked lines.
“Didn’t think you’d be back,” Jimin said, standing close. Jungkook hadn’t noticed the bell that rang when the young customer left nor did he notice the looming presence that had been watching him.
“Why?”
Jimin shrugged, mouth jutting out in a pout, “You didn’t call.”
Jungkook’s eyes grew wide. There was no malice apparent in Jimin’s tone nor was there any detectable annoyment. He was rather calm, simply stating a fact but Jungkook couldn't help the momentary embarrassment that ran his throat dry. Nor the pang of guilt that shot through his stomach and warmed his cheeks. Truthfully, he was meant to call. Wanted to. But doubt was a fickle thing.
“Well,” he cleared his throat. “What if I just came for another vinyl?”
“Did you?” The look Jimin got in his eyes was the same as that first night. Icy, intimidating, a dark abyss of possibilities Jungkook didn’t know how to respond to and so, he didn’t. Eyes cast down where his fingers were playing with the corner of a vinyl case.
To be honest, Jungkook found it hard to keep eye contact with Jimin for a lot of reasons. For one, Jimin had a presence that Jungkook hasn’t seen before. He felt calm, quiet and yet he had this blistering intensity about him that made Jungkook scramble to find a coherent thought. It was almost as if Jimin could see through him. Read all the dirty thoughts his brain conjured up, unable to stop thinking about his hands and what those lips would taste like.
He could feel his cheeks heating up.
“What distraction are we looking for today then, Jungkookie?” Jimin rested against the wall, washed under those same goddamn neon lights. When Jungkook looked up he expected that dark abyss but it wasn’t there. Replaced by that silence. That warmth that filled Jungkook. The serenity. That quiet mull.
It was like a whiplash.
“Depends on what you have to offer?”
“How ‘bout Frank Sinatra?”
A smile tugged at his lips, “Frank, huh? You like him?”
“Hmm,” Jimin hummed, already shuffling over to a rack, beckoning Jungkook to follow. So, he did and what he saw was a long list of all the records under that familiar name.
“Bit of a fan?”
“Just a bit,” there’s a teasing grin on Jimin’s face but Jungkook wasn’t paying much attention, fingers grazing over the long list of vinyls. He enjoyed the touch, the rough feeling of worn down paper against his smooth fingertips. A contrast. “You are a Lifer, huh?”
The comment flew over Jungkook’s head but that teasing tone he picked up on easily, “If you’re such a fan why don’t you tell me more.”
“Oh, darling, I could rave on and on about the things Frank’s deep ass voice makes me feel, all night.”
Jungkook’s eyes snapped to him but Jimin wasn’t even looking in his direction. Fiddling with the lighter in his hand and the stick that poked out between his plush lips. And Jungkook hated it. Hated how the air felt stuck in his throat from a single word that was used in a passing comment.
“Why don’t you?” He asked, finding his throat suddenly dry.
“No one to rave to,” he reasoned.
“You could rave to me.”
Jimin blew out a puff of smoke before he grabbed one of the vinyls, “Maybe next time, darling.” He winked and stalked past Jungkook to the counter, eyes expectant as they ran along Jungkook’s form. Stuck in one place. Perplexed.
There was that glint again. That lilt to his voice that sent shivers down Jungkook’s neck and made him think that he could grow used to hearing it. The small crack of his cords as he spoke - the result of that same poison that was stuck between his lips, creating a halo of smoke around him.
“Why do you like jazz, hyung?” Jungkook shook away the fog before him and walked closer. A newfound curiosity egged him on. His eyes trailed down to Jimin’s lips as they wrapped around the stick for another drag - and Jungkook knew he was staring. Blatant and daring. But there was that fucking yearning again that kept clouding his mind and broke down his filters.
“How’d you know I’m your hyung?”
Jungkook shrugged, “Just guessing, ‘m 97.”
“Goddamn,” he sighed, “well, then I am your hyung.” Jimin smiled and let his gaze wander over Jungkook the same way his did. Obvious, blatant and daring. But Jimin had that dark abyss. So tempting and so close.
Eventually, Jimin tore his eyes away and straightened up to crack his neck. Massaging at the tense muscles before he blew out another puff of smoke, pursing his lips to direct it up towards the ceiling where the neon lights painted them blue. He put the stub out and leaned on the counter, for a moment - eyes lost and teeth worrying at the tender flesh of his skin. Jimin was thinking.
“It’s raw you know? No bullshit, no dilly-dally just fucking stripped-down vocals and raw music. Spontaneous, you know?”
“You like the scratch.”
A smile played on his lips, “Yeah, I like that fucking scratch. But more than that it just spoke to me. Didn’t have much continuity in life but jazz was always there, you get me?”
Jungkook nodded but he could barely stifle the smile that crept upon him, “Yeah, hyung I get you.”
It felt odd. Just talking and yet, barely saying much. Jungkook felt like he’s known Jimin for an eternity but still, he knew absolutely nothing about him. He had a shop, fucked with all the shit he fucked with, liked jazz and there was an alluring gravel to his voice. That was all Jungkook knew about the shopkeeper.
“Hyung?” Jimin hummed in acknowledgement as he put the vinyl in a paper bag. Jungkook had no clue which record it was but he found he didn't care much. Trusting Jimin with good music - and maybe when he saw Jimin slipping in another vinyl, he decided to ignore it. “Have a smoke for me?”
Jimin cocked a brow at him, “Can’t buy your own?”
“What’s the saying - ‘Stolen pleasures are the sweetest’?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s stolen fruit but-” he lit a stick in his mouth and took a deep pull before offering it. “- it ain’t stolen if I offer it to you.”
Jungkook stared at it and watched as the smoke rose from the end. He lifted his gaze to meet Jimin and he didn't look away. Not as he took a long pull - the end sizzling an angry red - not as he blew the smoke out slowly - hitting Jimin in the face - and not even as he handed it back. He kept his eyes on Jimin and watched intently.
They changed. There wasn’t that iciness to them, only heat - a fire settling deep in the abyss that sent shivers down Jungkook’s spine. He could feel his heart hammering, his breath trembling as he let Jimin’s gaze wash over him.
“Come here,” his words were spoken softly but Jungkook took it as an order. Enchanted by the lilt in his voice and the soothing way his tone changed, “Open up,” Jimin tapped under his chin slightly and Jungkook complied, mesmerised by his eyes and lured in by the smooth cadence of his voice. Jungkook parted his lips slightly and shivered as Jimin’s fingers grazed his, “Wanna try something,” he whispered almost like a secret shared between them.
And Jungkook - Jungkook watched with lidded eyes as Jimin took a deep inhale while his fingers tilted his chin up a little...and Jimin blew. He blew the bitter smoke at Jungkook - creating a fog between them. His lips brushed gently against Jungkook as he let the smoke fill their mouths. It stung their eyes and burned their lungs but Jungkook only opened his mouth wider, seeking for that bitter taste and the feeling of Jimin’s lips. He felt a shiver wracking down his body, something hot bubbling under his skin and a familiar coil of tight warmth flood his stomach.
Jimin pushed closer, lips almost slotted between Jungkook’s and mouth parted to breathe the last of the smoke into him. And Jungkook was lost under Jimin’s careful ministration, in the dark fiery eyes that pinned him to the ground and the proximity they shared.
“H-hyung?” he stuttered. Words barely louder than a puff of air.
He’s so close. So close.
“Yes, Jungkookie?”
He opened his mouth and then closed them because words fought for a place in his head and only one flashed before him. Yearning. Jungkook yearned. Craved for more of Jimin’s touch. He was hungry for the softness of Jimin’s voice - that breathy quality that took over him when laced with want. Jungkook desired to feel close and to feel those lips pushing against his, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him - god, he wanted to kiss him.
“What do you want me to do, Jungkookie?” he whispered, “I need you to tell me.” Jimin reached forward to brush a strand of hair from his eyes and Jungkook - Jungkook wanted to but he found the words stuck in his throat, found it hard to blink through the haziness that settled over his mind.
Jimin’s fingers settled beneath his chin and it only served as a distraction, his expectant gaze pulling Jungkook further in and-
The sound of a phone ringing startled the both of them. The daze and the fog dissipated, washed away as he blinked, suddenly too aware of how close they were. Jungkook swallowed tight and pulled back but he could feel the gentle grip of Jimin’s hands over his own. Not holding him down nor grasping his wrist - just a silent request.
“Y-your pho-”
“They can wait a little,” Jimin offered, eyes kind and words soft as if he were afraid that Jungkook would run. A fear that was rational.
He pulled away and tried to ignore the pang of hurt in his chest when he saw the beige look that suddenly took Jimin’s expression over. Not warm or intense, but rather cold and distant and none of that humour and life apparent. Jungkook slid a bill on the counter towards him and grabbed his bag - offering a gentle ‘good night, hyung’ before he ran out the door.
It felt like decades had passed by the time he got home, the memories of everything that had happened, flashing in his brain again and again and again. Jimin’s lips grazing his, the bite of cold rings against his skin, eyes that bore into Jungkook, all playing in his mind on repeat and Jungkook wanted so much more. He wanted to taste and touch and feel.
He slumped against the door and the cool ground beneath him washed away the heat to his skin. It calmed his heavy breathing and helped him with filtering through everything that he felt. The fear of taking what he yearned for settling in his bones.
Jungkook looked down and stared at the strain of his jeans - a groan slipping past his lips as he banged his head against the door. A rush of embarrassment heated his cheeks and his traitorous brain did nothing to alleviate the arousal that coiled in his stomach - supplying him with images of the night. And Jungkook could feel it all over again. The bite of smoke that filled his mouth, the heated gaze that stared him down and the graze of Jimin’s rings against his sensitive skin.
Jazz helped him sleep. Jungkook didn’t exactly think it would but oddly enough it calmed him. The soothing mix of trumpets and pianos coming together to create life with that scratchiness he adored. He never fell asleep to it before though, never tried to soothe his senses with the sweet melodies of jazz but that night he did.
He took the vinyl out of the paper bag and glanced at Frank Sinatra's obnoxious smile before he took out the other vinyl Jimin slipped in. A grin appeared on his face when he read the title, something odd fluttering in his stomach as he put the record on the platter and listened to Kitty Kaleen’s collection. His eyes drooped as the swing and blues mixed with her airy vocals - and finally, Jungkook slept.
But if Kitty helped him sleep than the deep boom of Sinatra’s voice did the opposite, unable to stop himself from imagining Jimin and all the things he starved for. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering back to the closeness of his lips, his fingers touching just enough for Jungkook to feel it on his skin and the soft brush of his mouth, the piercing catching on his lips. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Jimin’s lips on his, what it would feel like to sink his teeth into the soft skin and to have his tongue be sucked on.
He should have felt some resemblance of shame when he went back there. His purpose floating before him and mocking him but all Jungkook could feel was nausea, creeping up inside of him because he yearned. Starved to be touched so goddamn much Jungkook felt he would go insane.
The sound of the bell was welcoming. Familiar and warm just like the faint smell of tobacco that lingered with that old dusty smell of deteriorating paper that kept the records safe and sound. The low blue lights that touched the surface eased the tension in Jungkook’s muscles away.
Faintly he could hear the soft sounds of clothes rustling against the surface and soon enough a black mop of hair rounded the corner. Eyes sharp behind round glasses, silver jiggling as he walked. Jimin stared at Jungkook for a moment before he leaned against the wall with a sigh, arms crossing arms.
“We’re closed.”
“The door was open.”
A beat.
“My mistake,” Jimin’s tone was distant. Careful. Cautious. Eyes skimming over Jungkook’s form and picking up on the small hints of Jungkook’s nervousness. Tearing at the skin near his nails and biting the inside of his cheek. “You’re here cause…?” His brows rode up in question but there was a knowing glint in his eyes. Suspicion maybe.
“I was promised a rant,” A tug pulled at Jimin’s lips. “Thought I’d catch up on that.”
For a moment, Jungkook thought Jimin would turn him down but instead he turned around and waved with his hand a soft ‘c’mon’ leaving his lips. He walked them up on old rickety steps that led them to the loft. Ivy grew on the rails, twisted around the knobs and poles until they became so big they crept up on the walls. Eventually, Jungkook stepped up from the last step and was faced with Jimin’s home.
It wasn’t much. A small bedroom, connecting to a kitchen and a door on the side for a bathroom was all it was. But it provided all that was needed. In the left corner, Jungkook could see a black-painted pallet with a thick twin-sized mattress on it, covers and pillows thrown around messily. Around it stacks of books, vinyls and records mountained the field with plants plastered on top of them. There was a nightstand on the other side of the bed with a few nick-nacks Jungkook noticed but was unable to make out. To his right, there was another pallet with blankets thrown on top of it, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. It was small but Jungkook found he didn't particularly mind this. Surrounded by warmth and the greenery that oozed from every direction, giving the place that freshness it craved.
“No table I’m afraid,” Jimin told him as he leaned against the counter.
A flash of lightning illuminated the room in white, falling across Jimin’s eyes and for a moment, Jungkook thought he saw something...odd. Jimin’s eyes, shining blue. Dark blue but it glowed, stared right into him. He swallowed tightly before he ripped his gaze away and when he looked back there was nothing there. Just a trick of the light.
Jungkook breathed heavily and walked over to the pallet to sit down, all the while he never lost eye contact with Jimin. The shopkeeper trailed his every move like a hawk and Jungkook revelled in the attention because he needed Jimin to know. To know how much he wanted this. How much he wanted Jimin’s hands on him, those cold rings digging into his soft curves and those plush lips leaving marks behind to last for days. Jungkook wanted Jimin to fill him with that desperation, that itch that only he could scratch until the water in his bucket overfilled and there was nothing else left but the high and the fall.
Jungkook wanted Jimin to know how much he craved that touch.
“You don’t sleep much, do you?” Jimin cocked his head to the side.
“Neither do you.”
“Ah, no I don’t, then again I don’t really need it.”
“Every person needs sleep, hyung.” Jungkook fixed him with a look but he got... nothing. No response, no answer. “Thought you gonna rave about good old Frank.”
He smiled, “How ‘bout I rave about Louis for ya? Feelin’ kinda Louis tonight.”
“Is that so?”
“We'll still have that deep ass voice that sends chills down my body,” Jimin pushed himself away from the fridge and slowly made his way to the pallet where Jungkook sat leaned back on his wrists. “But he has that gravelly tone to him, you know? The one that would send any sane man wild.”
“Does it send you wild, hyung?”
“Oh, definitely,” he nodded, squatting down between Jungkook’s open legs - leaving no place to hide from those icy eyes. “Question is,” his hands slipped onto Jungkook’s thigh, bulging under the tight fabric of his jeans, heightening the feeling of Jimin’s touch. Jungkook gasped, breath stuck in his throat because Jimin trailed his hands lower, right until he met with the crook of Jungkook’s thighs. “Does it send you wild?”
Jungkook’s breath hitched in his throat - because Jimin was close. Too close. Merely inches away, digging his fingers into Jungkook’s thighs, dangerously close to his cock. His mouth suddenly felt terribly dry but he nodded, voice coming out strained as he answered, “Yeah, yeah, hyung it does.”
Jungkook’s droopy gaze wandered over Jimin’s features, his strong brows and messy hair that fell into his eyes and just that hint of blue that was apparent in his irises. He trailed his gaze down to Jimin’s lips where the piercing dipped into the soft skin and a shudder travelled down his sides as he imagined what those lips would feel like.
When his gaze trailed back to Jimin’s face, he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Because Jimin was staring at him with hungry eyes - catching onto what Jungkook was doing. There was this palpable tension rising in the air between them. A tension that made Jimin bolder and made Jungkook feel small. So, Jimin leaned closer, riding on the high the attention gave him, and… and something caught Jungkook’s eyes.
It felt as though someone had knocked the air out of him because the closer Jimin leaned in, the lower his shirt slipped- revealing the secret hidden beneath the thin fabric. Two silver barbels were pierced through Jimin’s nipples - and like whiplash, Jungkook’s head felt dizzy. Brain short-circuiting for a moment.
Jimin was close and he stopped just before his mouth touched his neck, a puff of air tickling down Jungkook’s skin. Jimin didn’t move though, hovering over the open plain as if he were asking for permission. Jungkook glanced down and nodded slowly, a hiss spilling from his lips at the feeling of cold metal grazing his skin, while a warm fuzzy feeling blanketed his mind. Jimin was merely brushing his lips against his neck, almost as if he were planning out the patterns he would paint on the unblemished skin. Gently nipping - testing the waters, but even that drew small pants out of him.
Jungkook dipped his head to the side, gently asking for more. His cock stirred in interest just as his mind started to slip into that delicious emptiness he craved so deeply. Slowly falling into that desperation that clouded his rational thinking and swallowed away the worries that plagued his brain.
He felt Jimin’s hands trailing up his sides, ghosting the skin just as he nosed along the collar of Jungkook’s shirt - searching for more. Jimin poked his tongue out to gently lick up a bead of sweat - and Jungkook whimpered as the cold air hit the wet patch. Jimin slipped his hands under Jungkook’s shirt and scraped his nails down his taut stomach just as he nipped at the lobe. And-
And Jungkook keened. Back bowing and eyes fluttering shut as he tried to breathe, to keep his composure that was slowly slipping from his grasp with each touch Jimin measured on him. Even though they were nothing more than soft grazes, it sent Jungkook’s touch-starved body into a spiral. Adding to the arousal that pooled in the pit of his stomach.
“Y-you wore that-that shirt on purpose,” Jungkook breathed as a smirk stretched on Jimin’s lip, apparent against his heated skin.
“Maybe I did.”
“Th-that’s not fair-” Jungkook gasped and Jimin sucked hard where he had his lips sealed around a patch of soft skin. His teeth bit down and his tongue lapped at the sore bruise just as his nails dragged along Jungkook’s sides, drawing out another whine. And Jungkook was already light-headed. Utterly deprived of touch and yearning for more. “Jimin?”
“Yes, darling?” He drawled as his voice dipped low. Gravelly and rough, brushing against Jungkook’s ear - that taunting lilt so apparent.
“I want m-more.”
Jimin hummed, “You gotta be specific darling,” he whispered between kisses, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. No running this time.”
Jungkook blinked up, trying to shake off the haze that settled over him so he could tell the elder what he wanted - craved, so desperately. He breathed heavily and settled his hand on Jimin’s shoulder, pushing just a little - to see those dark eyes with blue flecks, “I want you to touch me, hyung.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere,” Jungkook groaned, eyes falling to Jimin’s lips. “Just touch me, I wanna-wanna feel you, all around just touch me, please-”
Jimin smiled, pecking the side of Jungkook’s lips before he grabbed him by the hips and dragged him closer right until his legs slid over Jimin’s thighs, “Good boy.” He murmured, hands reaching down to grab Jungkook by his ass, steadily lifting him up.
Jungkook yelped at the sudden display of strength but Jimin merely laughed at him as he walked to the bed to drop him on the pillowy mattress. He pushed himself up on his elbows and stilled. Dark eyes cast down his open form, so tempting and alluring almost resembling a predator. A burst of heat ran through his skin as he locked gazes with Jimin. Drawn in by the abyss and lost in the tiny freckles of blue - on the edge of begging for more.
But Jimin seemed to be in no rush. He was slow about shedding his shirt, about showing off the metal bars pierced through his nipples that Jungkook wanted to taste so bad. His eyes glinted in the low light, dark and staring right through the man under him. He crouched down to crawl between Jungkook’s open legs and pulled him down by the firm grip he had under his knees.
He smoothed his hands down Jungkook’s thighs, feeling as the muscles rippled and flexed under the attention. A devilish smirk appeared on his features when he felt the trembles that bubbled under Jungkook’s skin. That craving, that itch that had been under his skin finally finding some relief even just from the slightest touch.
“You’re so desperate,” he mumbled, hands inching closer to the belt that was sealed tight around Jungkook’s tiny waist. Shivering under the cold bite of metal. “So worked up and I haven’t even done anything yet, Jungkookie.”
His eyes fluttered shut at the words, unable to keep contact and overcome by a strange feeling of embarrassment. But just as he closed them and turned away to hide - hands reached out to him. Prying away the palms that Jungkook dug into his eyes, smoothing down the sides of his temples. “Open your eyes, darling. Nothing to be ashamed of,” Jimin’s voice dropped to a low rasp and his breath tickled the hair at Jungkook’s ear. “Wanna see you.”
Jungkook gasped at the feeling of Jimin’s tongue licking across his lobe, the tug of his teeth against the piercings in his ear making his hips buck up and a groan falling from his lips from the momentary friction.
A trail of pink bruises ran along his jawline, down his neck and up again until Jimin’s lips hovered over his, barely an inch away. Jimin knew what he was doing. Knew that the nips against Jungkook’s skin were barely enough to feel the cold dig of the piercing - and Jungkook yearned for it.
He brushed his lips against Jimin’s, tongue darting out for a taste before Jimin pulled back. He grabbed Jungkook by the hair and pulled, exposing the reddened skin of his neck - Jimin’s lips out of reach, “Is this what you want?”
“Y-yes,” Jungkook keened, the burn of his scalp making his cock jump behind his jeans, constrained and leaking, begging for the attention Jimin wasn’t giving it. “Please, please, please-”
Jimin’s lips swallowed down the words that spilled from Jungkook. The ring cooled the soft skin of Jungkook’s mouth and the metallic taste of silver filled his senses when he swiped his tongue over Jimin’s piercing. A haziness clouded his mind as he fell deeper and deeper into Jimin, each kiss and lick and nip adding to the tight heat in his belly. Wet and sloppy as their tongues tangled together - drool shared between their hungry kisses.
Dark, hooded eyes stared Jungkook down when Jimin pulled back for a breath, stilling the air around them before he dived back in. But this was different. Slow and drawn out, the smack of their lips loud against Jungkook’s ears. And Jimin kissed him to a rhythm, deliberate, taking his time to taste every inch of Jungkook’s mouth as if he were committing it to memory.
His hips rolled in a circular motion, jeans brushing against Jungkook’s clothed cock - and he whined high and loud, breaking the kiss. Jimin rolled his hips down again and pushed Jungkook's hips against him, giving him that much-needed friction he craved so deeply.
And Jungkook was already lost. Clouded by so many sensations all at once as speckles of colour burst behind his lids. His vision swam when he blinked, hands gripping onto Jimin’s shoulder because he wanted more. So much more. He wanted to be blank. Completely empty.
“Open up,” Jimin tapped his chin again and Jungkook did. His eyes grew wide when he watched as Jimin angled himself until the metal barb was right in front of Jungkook’s lips. So, so, close Jungkook could easily lap it into his mouth. “Go on, pretty.” He whispered and that was all the encouragement Jungkook needed.
He sealed his lips around the nipple and sucked hard without hesitating for a single moment. His moans vibrated onto Jimin’s bud and he groaned. Low and rough, tangling his fingers in Jungkook’s hair. His hands slipped higher on Jungkook’s chiselled stomach, nails scraping against the hard plain, egging him on - making his hips kick up from the sensation. Jungkook swirled his tongue around the hard bud and tugged on the metal barb with his teeth, lost in the breathy sounds that left Jimin’s lips.
“Fuck,” Jimin drawled, pulling Jungkook’s head back again by his hair. Forcing him to pop off and stay in the uncomfortable angle. Desperation itched under his skin and a whine tore from his throat when Jimin licked up his neck right until he could slot his tongue between Jungkook’s open mouth. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth to bite down as he grinded his hips harder against Jungkook. “Clothes off,” he breathed before he sat up to unbuckle his belt.
Jungkook threw his shirt to the side, shuffling off his jeans and underwear in one swift motion - the adrenaline of what was to be promised, fuelling his mind. Jimin stood up before him, naked in all his glory and Jungkook just stared. Breath caught in his throat as he traced the prominent lines of Jimin’s body. The flexing of his muscles, the sharp edges of his thighs each line carved out perfectly. His stomach taut and hard, just as his arms and shoulders were - refined edges and bulging muscles. But there was also a softness where his hips curved, taunting Jungkook.
Jimin reached up to take his glasses off and with that same motion, he flipped back his hair all the while Jungkook’s eyes trailed down, down, down until they settled on his cock. Thick, curving against his abdomen, just above the neatly trimmed pubic hair. Jungkook’s throat ran dry.
A heavy sigh left Jimin’s lips before he threw his glasses on one of the stacks of books next to the bed. He grabbed a vinyl and walked over to a very old record player that Jungkook hadn’t noticed before.
“What are you doing?” he frowned.
“Ever had sex to Louis’ voice?”
“Hyung, no,” Jungkook groaned, falling against the mattress but the smile still stayed plastered on his face.
“Oh, yes, darling” Jimin placed the vinyl on the platter, amusement apparent in his voice as he picked up the cartridge. “You’re missing out on the good shit, Jungkookie.”
“You’re killing my boner.”
Jimin dropped the needle before he turned around, “That’s not what you’ll be saying when I fuck you slow and deep to the tune of La vie en rose.”
A shock of heat wormed into his stomach and Jungkook looked away from the icy gaze. He could hear Jimin’s gentle shuffling and just before he reached the bed, the symphony of drums and trumpets started up and the melody filled Jungkook’s head.
Jungkook yelped at the sudden cold bite of rings on his heated skin as Jimin parted his legs and circled his rim with a lubed up finger. He shuddered from the intrusion, instantly clenching but Jimin tried to soothe him. He leaned close and pulled Jungkook’s hands away from his face to stroke down his temples as he kissed at the small bruises he left behind.
“Jungkookie,” he called sweetly, “Relax for me, darling,”
Jungkook breathed slowly and deliberately. Lost in the feeling of Jimin’s pierced lips, kissing down his sides and the gentle tug on his scalp as Jimin slowly dipped in his finger inch by inch.
By the time he wiggled in his finger to the knuckle - Jungkook was shaking. The silver rings pushing against his walls sending shocks through Jungkook’s body, making him keen from the foreign sensation. His mind and body were taken over by the feeling of being touched. Yearning for so long and now able to feel that closeness he craved.
Jungkook smoothed his hands down Jimin’s back, just to feel the muscles flex under his careful touch as he tried to relax. Urging his walls to give up on contracting, breathing steady and low.
“You’re tight,” Jimin whispered, eyes searching for Jungkook’s. “Look at me,” he drawled, the lilt to his voice so commanding and soft at the same time. Jungkook lifted his hooded gaze and his lips parted in shock, heart hammering against his ribcage.
Jimin’s eyes were glowing. The specks from before taking over his irises until there was nothing else but a blue, radiant ring - compelling every inch of Jungkook. Drawing him into the pool, into the abyss.
“Look at my eyes and relax.” Jimin murmured and Jungkook found that he couldn’t disobey.
Muscles falling loose, legs opening as his arms flopped to the side all the while he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jimin. A mellow fog narrowed his vision and Jungkook’s beating heart slowly calmed down. He wasn’t afraid though. Perhaps he should have been consumed by panic and fear but all he felt was arousal, craving - starvation for the drag against his walls.
That was how Jimin worked him open. Eyes locked together in a pool of blue while Jungkook got used to the stretch, until short pants and moans broke in his throat, craving more of Jimin’s hands on him. “So good for me, Jungkookie.”
Jimin slid his hands up and down his sides, grabbing onto him just before a sudden shock of electricity flared through Jungkook’s body and he spasmed, eyes rolling back from the burst of pleasure. And Jimin did it again. He brushed his fingertips against his prostate with a sly grin until Jungkook begged and moaned for more, panting out incoherent words with tears pooling in his eyes, “Please, please, please, Jimin-”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me, please please…” he babbled on and on and on until Jimin complied and pulled his fingers out - torturously slow. He reached for the box of condoms right beside his bed and Jungkook whined at the loss of warmth.
Jimin was in no rush though. Not even when Jungkook started begging again. But Jimin took his time. He tore a packet and rolled the condom on his length while his hungry eyes trailed Jungkook’s body, giving himself a few slow strokes as he drizzled lube onto his shaft. Fist tight around his cock, adding to the building arousal. Jimin’s lips parted, short whimpers bouncing off the walls while Jungkook was utterly enchanted. He wanted to see more of it. Of Jimin completely lost in his pleasure.
“J-Jimin-”
“Hmm?”
Jungkook swallowed, trying to stop himself from squirming. Because Jimin’s eyes were on him again and his cock was so, so close. Dripping with lube, curving in his fists - and Jungkook wanted it. Wanted to feel the stretch.
“Please-” his words were cut short as the head of Jimin’s cock caught on his rim, drawing a hiss out of the both of them. Jimin hovered over him, one hand plastered next to his head - dropping a kiss on his cheek - before he slowly guided his cock to Jungkook’s entrance.
It burned. The stretch so foreign after so long. The girth of Jimin’s cock opening him up more and more, every inch of Jimin’s length pulsing inside of him- and it was everything Jungkook craved. The feeling of being so full making him delirious. That itch under his skin finally scratched - and Jungkook whined loud, throwing his head back as he lost himself to the feeling.
Just as Jimin bottomed out, hips flush against hips, that familiar buzz travelled down Jungkook’s body. The string that was pulled taught for what felt like months finally snapped and the feeling of being full pushed Jungkook over the edge. His body spasmed and white ropes of cum landed against his stomach, warming the icy skin.
Whimpers fell from his lips as he trembled from the aftershock, all the while Jimin traced kisses against his temples and cheeks, calming him slowly down. Delirium settled in Jungkook's brain and his body finally relaxed after what felt like years.
“Good?” Jimin asked pulling back a little to push back the stray locks that stuck to his sweaty forehead.
Jungkook blinked his eyes open, searching his way through the fog until he found that gaze. Icy, an abyss, glowing blue. “Mhm, ‘s a lot,” he mumbled, brain muddled and body already heavy.
“It’s okay, darling, I’ll take care of you,” Jimin leaned down to leave a short peck on his lips before his hands snaked under the pillow to retrieve a black cloth. “Just relax for me, pretty.” A puff of air tickled Jungkook’s ears where Jimin laved at the lobe. His hands slithered under Jungkook’s head and the black cloth slipped on without a single inquiry.
Jimin kissed at his neck, while his hands and arms held him tight, essentially trapping Jungkook. He pulled back and Jungkook let out a loud whine as Jimin slid back in, the drag heavenly against his walls. He shivered from the oversensitivity but it only added to the building pressure in his stomach.
“Are you listening to me, Jeonggukie?” Jimin asked, whispering next to his ear, as he rocked into Jungkook in a slow rhythm, grinding deep when Jungkook’s heat enveloped his length. He mumbled something incoherent and Jimin kissed his cheeks, “Good, I want you to do something for me. Can you be good for me, Jungkook?”
“Hmm,” he hummed, too caught up in the throes of pleasure to be able to form a sentence. He wanted to be good. Good just for Jimin.
Jimin nibbled at the bruised flesh and groaned low, huffing out a sigh before he spoke again. Breathy and gravelly, that lilt to his voice adding to the fog, “I want y-you to listen. Listen to the music, the slow jazz, that scratch you like so m-much and the sounds around you. Can you do that for me?”
Truthfully, Jungkook forgot about the music that filled the room in a low volume. Too caught up in Jimin to notice. But now that he was asked to listen, he couldn’t miss it. Couldn’t miss the trumpets and saxophones that mixed together beautifully and that scratch that he loved. He couldn’t miss Armstrong's deep, comforting voice that boomed in his chest and sent jolts of pleasure to pool in his stomach. Vibrating through his system.
So, Jungkook listened. Listened to the way his whines and whimpers climbed on the scale, to the slaps of skin against skin, to the wet sounds of Jimin’s mouth as he sucked marks. And just as Jimin promised - he fucked him slow and deep to the sweet blues of La vie en rose, while he whispered filthy anecdotes in Jungkook’s ear.
Jungkook lost himself in the feeling. Of Jimin on top of him, inside of him, in his ear murmuring breathily. The low, warm rhythm of the music that washed over his senses while Jimin satiated the hunger of his skin. That yearning that crawled inside of him for so long.
He hadn’t noticed the strain on his cock. Dripping beads of precum trapped between their bodies, hard and coloured an angry red from the stimulation that only served to tease him. Because Jungkook found, that Jimin loved getting lost in the throes of pleasure. He liked to draw it out for as long as he could. Lost in their cravings and that emptiness that silenced the world around them.
Jimin liked to play and he took his time to enjoy every second of it. Right until Jungkook’s body was a string pulled taught. Reduced to whines and whimpers because every time Jimin thrust forward, the head of his cock slammed against Jungkook’s prostate, sending jolts of electricity through his body.
Jungkook keened loud, unable to focus on the music anymore, wrung out from the high Jimin was giving him until he felt like he couldn’t breathe, all the while Jimin talked him through it. Whispered sweet nothings to him between wet kisses and hard snap of his hips.
“Wa-wanna cum-cum…” Jungkook mumbled but his words tripped over his tongue and all that came out was a long moan. Jimin groaned against him and his hips kicked forward, losing his rhythm for a moment.
He leaned down to lick a stripe up Jungkook’s neck until he could draw his lips into a hungry kiss, “Wanna cum, da-darling...fuck-” Jimin’s hips snapped forward and Jungkook jolted from the onslaught of pleasure, cock rubbing between their stomachs. But before he could answer, Jimin was already closing his fist around his cock, pulling the skin to the rhythm of his thrusts as he smeared the precum to make the slide easier.
Jungkook was trembling. Legs and arms quavering, nails digging into Jimin’s shoulders, as his back bowed and speckles of colour burst behind his eyelids - finally dropped from the edge, cum sticking to his skin. Jimin let go of his spent cock and licked his hand free before he slipped the blindfold off Jungkook’s eyes to kiss at his lids.
“So good for me, Jungkookie,” the words repeated each other, as Jimin’s hips kicked in, punching slow pants out of Jungkook while he lost himself to his own building arousal. And all Jungkook could do was take it. Mind lost deep in that fog while he tried to pry his eyes open to lose himself in that pool of blue.
Jimin growled before he snagged Jungkook’s lips and came with a low groan, voice cracking as he rode out his orgasm, emptying into the condom. Jimin held himself up on his forearms, chest heaving from exertion before he looked down to meet Jungkook’s hazy gaze.
Shock filtered through Jungkook’s brain and a gasp bounced off the walls because those pools of blue glowed brighter and brighter the longer Jungkook looked at them. They made his head spin and spin and spin, exhaustion wearing him down until darkness crept in from the sides and Jungkook lost himself to the pull of sleep. Those same hooded eyes, guiding him gently.
His body ached. Sore muscles and tired limbs screaming for help when he shifted in the bed. A cold chill ran down his spine and Jungkook curled in on himself as he blinked the sleep away from his tired eyes.
The room was dark save for the faint glow of the streetlamps outside and the light that filtered in from behind a closed door. Jungkook could hear music coming from there. A soft hum that he couldn’t recognise, ears strangely muffled.
A gentle exhaustion settled on him. The kind of ache that made his eyes droopy and his head floaty - and for the first time in a very long time, Jungkook felt content. Empty as that warm quiet settled over his brain.
A groan slipped from his lips when he sat up, suddenly noticing how hoarse and debauched his throat felt - a flush of red creeping upon his cheeks as he thought of the reason behind it. Jungkook looked down to the black button-up shirt that he wore, thinking Jimin must have dressed him while he was asleep.
He looked around for a moment before his feet pulled him towards the door where that soft humming sound came from. He knocked once then twice but he received no answer, so Jungkook gently pushed the door in and was greeted with dimmed lights and the sweet melodies of RnB. He listened to the deep contralto voice before his eyes took in his surroundings.
The bathroom was small but filled with green. Full of so many succulents and leafy plants in pots it was almost like a greenhouse. There was one dim lamp above the sink that lit the bathroom in half-light, casting a shadow over Jungkook’s face. On top of the toilet seat was the record player and right in front of Jungkook was a tub where Jimin lounged with his head thrown back and resting against the porcelain.
There was a blunt burning away between his lips, the smoke travelling up and staying in the air, playing off the shadow of a light cast over the room. His hair fell against his eyes and the water reached up to his neck, nearly sloshing out of the tub. But from the pools of wet patches on the floor Jungkook could tell that he didn’t care much about spilling it.
Jimin hadn’t noticed him, wrapped up in the music and the blunt or whatever was on his mind. So, Jungkook shed his shirt and left it at the door before he walked over to the tub and lowered himself in front of Jimin. The jostling of water finally making him move, cracking an eye open to stare at Jungkook.
“You’re awake,” he commented before his head settled back and he blew out a puff of smoke.
“That tends to happen after sleep.”
Jimin didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he revelled in the low music and sultry voice that Jungkook didn’t recognise but enjoyed nonetheless. It was quiet. That quiet that Jungkook liked about Jimin more prominent than ever, almost as if his intensity was satiated by something.
The smoke fogged around them, burning Jungkook’s eyes and the water felt cold against his skin making him wonder how long Jimin has been in here. There was something off about him. Jungkook couldn’t tell what it was, he didn’t know Jimin well enough but he could feel it in the air around them. That quiet accompanied by a strange dullness that hasn’t been there before.
“Who are we listening to, hyung?” Jungkook asked when Jimin’s silence started to feel suffocating and his question did the trick. Because in the next moment, water splashed against the tile floor and Jungkook was sitting on his lap held tight by strong hands that dug into his hips.
Jimin was staring at him with wide eyes. With eyes that made Jungkook’s breath stutter because even after yesterday he couldn’t believe it. How they glowed so unnaturally bright.
Jimin snatched his chin to keep him still, thumbs toying with his bottom lip, while Jimin trailed his features with his eyes.
“You don’t mean to tell me you don’t know who Amy Winehouse is?” He cocked a brow, a small smile tugging at his lips that didn’t reach his eyes.
“No, I don’t.”
Jimin tutted, “Well, that’s unfortunate. You’re truly missing out on some amazing shit,” his voice came out as a whisper, soft puffs of air fanning over Jungkook’s mouth as Jimin’s thumb dug into the flesh. And Jungkook sighed heavily. Falling into that warmth and that quiet.
His lips gently parted and Jimin took that as an invitation. Taking a deep pull before he slotted his lips against Jungkook’s, sucking on his tongue just as he blew the smoke right down his throat. And Jungkook took it. Took the burn and his demanding lips, allowing Jimin to take and take and take.
He could feel Jimin’s cock stirring in interest under his ass and Jungkook grinded down, swallowing down the growl that spilled from Jimin’s lips. They fell into a rhythm. Husky soul and blues filling their empty heads while Jungkook rolled his hips in a slow circular motion as the elder sucked on his lips, biting down as if he wanted more - so, so much more.
A press of fingers against his hole made Jungkook yelp but soon he relaxed into it - panting into Jimin’s mouth as he worked open his sloppy hole. Jungkook leaned back to break the kiss, arms reaching for Jimin’s cock. He tightened his grip around the pulsing shaft and watched intently as Jimin threw his head back with a low groan while Jungkook sank down, taking him inch by inch until his ass was flush with Jimin’s crotch.
Jungkook breathed heavily against Jimin’s chest, whining as he buried himself into his comfort while Jimin drew gentle circles on the small of his back. There was no rush to get off. Warm arousal simmering in the pits of their stomachs but this was nice. This closeness. This touch.
When Jungkook’s breathing evened out, Jimin finally spoke again, tone so low Jungkook almost didn’t catch it over the music, “You were out for a day you know,” Jungkook raised his eyes to look at Jimin but the shopkeeper was staring at the ceiling - avoiding. “That’s not normal, Jungkook.”
The blunt sizzled away between Jimin’s fingers and he flicked it into the pool of water that wetted the tile floor. Jungkook watched as the red turned to black.
“You’re not normal either,” he whispered back, the only thing he could come up with. He didn’t understand what was happening but still, Jungkook wasn't stupid. He understood enough to know that this - whatever it was, wasn't normal.
Jimin sighed heavily before he looked Jungkook in the eye, a slight worry apparent in the abyss. “No, I’m not.”
“What are you then?”
Jimin shrugged, “Not human?”
“Is that a question?” Jungkook cocked a brow at him and leaned forward, nuzzling his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck, craving to feel closer. Starved to feel every inch of his skin wrapped up in Jimin.
“I guess it isn’t but I don’t really know much about what I am,” he spoke softly, that gravelly quality to his voice vibrating through his chest, lulling Jungkook gently. He trailed a hand up Jungkook’s back, running along his spine until he could tangle his fingers in the long locks. “All I know is that I eat differently.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t taste like food and shit. Only sounds and not all sounds are nice.”
Jungkook hummed softly, letting him know that he was listening and even if he didn’t understand he could try - and that seemed to comfort Jimin. Tense muscles suddenly sagging, accidentally jostling his cock in Jungkook, making him whine. He chuckled and dropped a kiss on top of his head, apologising softly.
“The sound vinyls have, taste nice. Kind of like what you humans have as a snack you know. Keeps me from going insane, keeps me from starving. But the only sounds that fill me are moans and whines. And... fuck-” Jimin groaned tightening his grip around Jungkook. “-you tasted so delicious, Jungkookie. So sweet and loud for me, I couldn’t get enough.”
There was a strange sharp sensation running through him that Jungkook couldn’t name. Almost like satisfaction - knowing that Jimin perhaps craved him as much as Jungkook did. Even if it was a different kind of craving. One starved for sounds, one starved for touch.
“So, you’re like some incubus or whatever the fuck it’s called?” Jimin chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest and Jungkook found that he couldn’t help but smile because all of this was simply put....weird. Surreal, almost as if Jungkook got stuck in a weird alternate universe where things like Jimin existed. He didn’t mind this though. This escape. But there was a lot to untangle.
“I doubt it, I don’t like - feed on sex, y’ know.”
“No, you just feed on the sounds I make during sex.”
“Exactly,” Jimin said softly, coaxing Jungkook out of his neck so that he could look at him. A smile stretched on his cheeks, subtle and small but warm and content - and his eyes dulled a little but Jungkook was still mesmerised by them.
He reached out and opened his palms. He smoothed them over Jimin’s pecks, flicking his pierced nipples that elicited a groan from him before he ran his hands up and up and up until Jungkook could smooth it down Jimin’s back. He shifted, giving himself enough space to roll his hips torturously slow. Jungkook whined a little, heavily sighing out as he leaned on Jimin until their foreheads touched.
“I’ll give you my sounds, h-hyung,” Jungkook breathed but Jimin didn’t answer straight away opting to nip at Jungkook’s lips - piercing a biting cold against his plush skin. His arms circled Jungkook’s lithe waist until they were chest to chest and finally - every inch of Jungkook’s skin was wrapped around Jimin.