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Namjoon barely manages to enter the changing room when Jungkook has him pinned against the wall, hands gripping his hips to hold him still as eager lips latch onto his neck. The clothes in Namjoon's hand slip and drop down, “Jungk–” he tries, the word slicing off when Jungkook slots their lips together in a bruising kiss. Namjoon's fingers dig into Jungkook's biceps as he tries to kiss back, albeit a little sloppy, because Jungkook's reckless and demanding. Hot blood brimming with desperation and adrenaline high.
Namjoon can't blame him. They'd just ended a show, after all. This was bound to happen. Aftershows had always felt liminal. Like a flimsy thread placed in between wanting to shut down or letting it all out. He can't hold it against Jungkook for choosing the latter.
Jungkook bites and pulls at Namjoon's lower lip and Namjoon hisses at the pain nearly bucking his hips into Jungkook's front. But Jungkook gets it instantly, licking into the bite in acquiescence. Warm tongue over the seam of his lips.
It's hard to match Jungkook's hunger, but Namjoon tries anyway, fingers clutching Jungkook's shirt, as their breaths mingle into one. Jungkook slides off the sleeve of Namjoon's flimsy shirt, hands cupping his pec and squeezing it. Namjoon lets out a soundless gasp and Jungkook takes his chance, sliding his tongue inside to deepen the kiss.
The heat between the space of their lips has Namjoon's head spinning, he can't keep up. Jungkook's other hand comes up to hold him by the neck, spit-slicked lips trailing wet open-mouthed kisses over the hinge of his jaw, reaching down to his neck. “We–we can't–” Namjoon whimpers, arching his neck inadvertently. He knows he's too easy to persuade. Jungkook begs and Namjoon always gives in. That's just how it is.
“More–some more, please,” Jungkook pleads, voice sounding needy. Namjoon knows this boy will get him scolded, but he's equally weak to rebuke.
He squeezes Namjoon's exposed chest once more before pinching his nipple and rolling the bud between his fingers. That elicits a broken moan out of Namjoon and Jungkook revels in it, sucking a bruise right under his collarbone.
“Jungkook, that'll leave–ahn–a mark,” Namjoon warns, voice heavy and breath harsh. All that coherency that's left of him begins to bleed out, a flame igniting in its place instead.
“Sorry, just want you close, fuck–” Jungkook rasps, paying no heed as he latches his lips onto Namjoon's nipple, fingers playing at the hardened bead on the other side.
Namjoon keens, body shuddering at the sensation. “Someone, someone might come, please,” he breathes, the plea tumbling out of his mouth on its own accord.
Jungkook pulls back with a soft pop, warm fingertips tugging at the buds as he dives back into Namjoon's neck. A bead of sweat rolls down the column of his spine and Namjoon distantly wonders how good it'd be if Jungkook just took from him.
It'd be amazing to drop, all he'd need is a little push. To get that foggy, mindless emptiness he so badly yearned for. He wanted to get on his knees, worship Jungkook and take his cock until all that simmering energy fizzled out like the aftermath of a storm. He wanted to be good for him. Wanted Jungkook to caress his tear-stained cheeks and call him a good boy. Wanted so much, it was dizzying.
But Jungkook – amazing, handsome, charming, and so-so kind Jungkook always made sure he didn't cross that line. That damned line Namjoon desperately wanted gone. How long had it been since they'd started dating? Around five months.
Five months and Namjoon was losing the last set of nails that held it together.
“Nnngh–” Namjoon groans, unable to muffle the sound when Jungkook rolls his hips onto Namjoon's. The friction makes him dizzy with desire. Maybe – if they were quiet enough – “Mmfh–” comes another choked gasp that pulls him out of his thoughts when Jungkook grinds their cocks together, nose buried in Namjoon's neck.
That little fire inside his belly pulls at his mind, urging him to leave all logic behind. Maybe he could give in, just for a moment – something tips off inside and Namjoon drags Jungkook up for a desperate kiss, moaning into it when Jungkook squeezes his waist like he wants it just as bad.
Jungkook slides a leg in between and lets Namjoon rut over it. Namjoon does, gasping helplessly and grunting when the friction serves to be measly. It's not much to get off, but enough to abate the high into curbing it. He grinds and rides over Jungkook's thigh, whimpering when Jungkook's grip on him turns bruising. “‘s good. Good.” Jungkook encourages, meeting Namjoon's thrusts with his own. His breath skitters off of Namjoon's neck and Namjoon swallows thickly.
He muffles his groans and humps Jungkook's leg, breath stuttering as his chest heaves harshly. All his features constrict on his face. That pull near his lower belly flicks up. He just needs a little more friction. Just a little more–
Right then comes a knock on the door, a shrill sounding voice following it with, “the car's here.” It's Yoongi. The haze that had just begun fogging over Namjoon's head clears up in a flash, leaving him dry and cold.
Namjoon tries not to pout when Jungkook pulls away, face flushed and eyes pooling with a fervent desire. It takes him a few seconds to collect himself and then his wide eyes meet Namjoon's. Namjoon places his forefinger over Jungkook's lips, shushing him before he gives them away. “Coming, hyung!” he answers, wincing when it comes out squeaky.
Something mischievous glints in Jungkook's eyes, he leans in closer, breath ghosting the shell of Namjoon's ear. “You will be when we get home.”
Namjoon shoves him on the shoulder, rolling his eyes and concealing a snort even when anticipation twists inside him like a livewire.
There's a moment of silence on the other side and then he hears a defeated sigh. “Jungkook-ah, you too,” Yoongi lets out, obvious annoyance draping the words. “Hurry up, will you?”
Impossible as it may seem, Jungkook's skin flushes more, red dripping down to his neck and Namjoon has to bite his lip to stifle his giggle. “Y-yeah–yeah, sorry!” Jungkook stutters out sheepishly.
Yoongi's footsteps recede and Namjoon allows himself a laugh. “You're so bad at hiding this, Jungkook-ah,” he teases, grinning at Jungkook's mortification.
And Jungkook, like the rascal he is, flicks Namjoon's nipple harshly. “Awh–” Namjoon hisses, sliding the sleeve back up and over his shoulder.
“I wasn't trying to hide us, I just–just wanted to kiss you, have my mouth on you.” he huffs out, picking up the clothes Namjoon had dropped and then handing them to him.
Namjoon scoffs, “I can't take you seriously when your hair is sticking up like that.”
“Babe,” Jungkook whines, pressing a chaste kiss to Namjoon's lips before nipping at the lower one. “Can we fuck when we go home?”
“So romantic,” Namjoon comments in a monotone but fights to keep the smile off his face. Jungkook pulls back to stare at him and Namjoon quickly changes the top into a cotton shirt he'd brought in.
Jungkook dives in to back him up next to the door this time. “Please?” he begs, holding him still and cupping his chin when Namjoon tries to turn away. He places a kiss on Namjoon's neck. “I wanna fuck you, please,” he goes on, kissing any bit of Namjoon's skin accessible to his lips. “Please hyung, I'll be gentle, I promise.”
Namjoon tuts internally. That was the trouble, wasn't it?
Jungkook was as gentle as they'd come. Generous and so thoughtful. Their first time was pleasant. Almost delicate, if one could take into account the way Jungkook had restrained himself from going for a third round. Namjoon knew the man had a great refractory period, but when subjected to it, as embarrassing as it was to admit it, he simply couldn't keep up. But of course, Jungkook never made him feel bad about it. No.
He was incredible in bed, always making sure there was a soft pillow underneath Namjoon's knees whenever Namjoon went down on him. Always warming the washcloth they used to wipe off after he fucked him. Got the best kind of ribbed condoms Namjoon loved. Only let his cum splatter over Namjoon's neck and never his face (even if Namjoon so badly wanted it). Insisted on letting him do most of the work, even as Namjoon rode him.
Namjoon liked being a pillow princess, he couldn't deny that. He did most of the heavy-duty lifting outside their room and Jungkook was fair enough to let him lie back and relax sometimes. But, their tendencies in bed were a tad bit different than what he had hoped. Or maybe, a lot, if he were honest.
“–buried inside you, wet and warm. Please.” Jungkook goes on and Namjoon blinks away his stupor to meet his eyes.
Jungkook's eyes ooze lust and affection. Intense and heated in a way that has Namjoon shying away, unable to hold it. “Okay–okay.” he obliges, fighting off the warmth creeping over his neck and cheeks at the admittance.
Jungkook smiles and kisses him chastely. Holding it there and letting it linger for a moment. It's as good as a promise for more. Namjoon gets it. Then he pulls away and slides out of the door.
Exhaling deeply, Namjoon gets to change his pants. Minutes later, his phone starts buzzing and he hurries out of the door, sliding the call on and answering it with a frantic, “Coming, I'm right there–ah, never mind–on my way.”
The ache comes back alive and intense when Jungkook has him underneath him when they reach home. Breath ghosting remnants of the heat onto the skin. Kisses searing and deep. Reddish purple blotches all over.
It's feverish, Namjoon knows, when he gives in just as easily as he did back then in the changing room. This time though, the fear of being caught ebbs away at the edges. Confines of Jungkook's room flooding that little freedom he'd wanted and letting that banked craving free.
Jungkook opens him up leisurely, cold lube-slicked fingers going in and out of his hole until it stretches. He scissors him wide, pressing heated kisses all over his trembling thighs. The desperation from before is now contained, not enough to be gone but enough to restrain himself. And Namjoon. Namjoon waits there, face contorted as his patience thins out right under his skin.
“Jungoog–Gguk-ah–put it in already.” Namjoon whines, fisting the sheets under him when Jungkook's fingers prod at the swollen spot inside.
Jungkook looks up from being at eye level with Namjoon's ass. Thirsty. He looks parched, like he's restraining himself even when he looks two seconds away from wanting to devour Namjoon whole. “Don't wanna hurt you, you'll be sore.”
Namjoon sighs exasperatedly. “You stretched me enough, c'mon, I want it, please.”
Jungkook presses a kiss to the mole on Namjoon's inner thigh. “You say that now and then make me carry you when it hurts after.”
The first time Jungkook fucked him, Namjoon was swollen there. He didn't expect anyone to exceed his size but then there he was, the damn golden maknae, being the best out of every fucking thing. He was the biggest Namjoon had ever taken and he couldn't sit without a pillow for three whole days. Funny, how Jungkook hadn't used the entire thing, poor guy freaked out when Namjoon hissed and muttered a string of apologies, only to shut up after Namjoon kissed him in acquiescence. It was a whole experience back then but in hindsight, it feels extremely hot.
“That happened twice,” Namjoon argues, “and don't pretend like you don't like it.”
Jungkook's whole face flushes and he pulls his fingers out, rolling the condom over his hard cock. “Me having to make you carry me because your monster cock split me open,” Namjoon adds slyly, getting on his elbows and watching Jungkook splutter.
“Hyung!” comes a whine from him and Namjoon smiles lazily. “Shut up.”
“Inside, fast–c'mon,” Namjoon lets out and Jungkook dives in to obey. He feels the blunt tip stretching him open and sighs out a satisfied “yes.”
“Tell me if it hurts,” Jungkook mumbles, and then he's sliding in completely, bottoming out as Namjoon exhales a huge breath.
He feels full. Stretched so wide and fuck, it feels incredible. Jungkook has the biggest cock in comparison to his previous partners. Bigger than himself and he loves it. It'd be amazing if Jungkook just rammed it in. Would hurt so good. Best. Would leave him swollen and aching and–
“I'll go slow, okay?”
As frustrating as it is, Namjoon tries not to let it get to him, focusing on the feeling of Jungkook inside him instead. Warm and pulsing. Large.
Jungkook fucks him slowly but deliberately. Namjoon watches it go inside his body, inch by inch, as he sucks him in. He watches the way Jungkook's fingers shake with a fine tremor, so full of unnecessary control, watches the thin sheen of sweat on Jungkook's neck, a bead that rolls down his forehead and onto the mattress, watches the constrictions on his face, eyelashes heavy with reluctance. Like Namjoon's as precious as glass, something he's scared he'll break.
And Namjoon wants to scream. Ask him to let go. Take everything from him.
But he can't dare.
Instead, he resorts to begging. Coaxing something out of Jungkook. Anything. “Harder, harder–please,” he whines, as Jungkook's hands grip his hips and drag him close. His thick legs slung over Jungkook's shoulders jerk with the movement.
“For me–Fuck, ah–‘s fuckin’ tight–so good.” Jungkook moans, eyes sharp and breath heavy as he drags his cock out and then thrusts inside.
It feels good. Feels amazing when Jungkook starts pounding into him with complete abandon. It lights up that little flame inside. Needy. Desperate. Greedy for more. More, some more.
“Yes, yes, yes.” Namjoon chants over the creak of the bed, headboard thumping forward lightly. “All for you.”
“No one fuck–” Jungkook rasps, struggling to catch his breath, “no one can fuck you this good. No one but me.”
“Only you–ah god, right there–so much better than anyone. Best fuckin’ cock–Hnng.”
It must provoke something inside Jungkook because, in the next instant, he pulls out and flips Namjoon onto his stomach, sliding in again when he's on his knees. He turns ruthless in a snap and Namjoon struggles to keep up. “Oh my god,” he moans, breath getting caught in his throat as Jungkook's hand circles his nape for grip. He tries to scramble through his thoughts, wondering what triggered this inside Jungkook. But it's hard to think of anything when he feels like he's floating.
Namjoon circles his palm over his cock, jerking himself off to get him close. He moans and shudders when it gets too much, hanging his head down and arching his back.
Jungkook hits the spot each time he thrusts and Namjoon's eyes roll back with how good it feels to be on his knees. One moment of weakness, he hopes, imagines Jungkook putting him in place and doing this, all gentleness leaving him through the sheets. Jungkook's hips jerk and snap against Namjoon's ass and Namjoon imagines Jungkook's hands, slapping him there, leaving it red and bruised. His stomach wrenches with desire.
Jungkook would do it so well. Big hands, calloused fingers running patterns on the handprint there. Namjoon would love the sting, beg him to do it again, strip him down until he can't think or function. Until he's left feeling lightheaded, willing to do whatever it takes to please Jungkook and Jungkook would be there, right next to him. Whispering praises for Namjoon to wake up to–
That does it for him and before he knows it he groans long and deep, cumming all over the sheets. His whole body trembles and he can't contain the broken moans that spill out of his mouth as Jungkook fucks him through it. His cock twitches weakly, white splattering out until there's none left. It's too much. But too good and he stays there obediently, taking it all.
It doesn't take a lot for Jungkook to follow. He tightens his hold on Namjoon's neck and pounds into him with more force. Namjoon clenches around his cock on impulse. A few more sloppy thrusts and Jungkook grunts and moans deep from his throat as he spills inside, glutes and hips flexing tight.
Namjoon's knees buckle and he falls, Jungkook slumping right over him. The weight makes him groan but he's too spent to think about it. The last nail tumbles and falls and in comes a revelation, like the most complicated combination lock clicking open.
Namjoon provoked him. That's what did it for Jungkook. That's what he needs to do if he wants a repeat of this.
“Holy shit–I'm so sorry–” Jungkook squeaks out an apology, scurrying off of Namjoon's back like he hurt him.
Namjoon hears his feet shuffle against the floor, walking away – probably to the bathroom. He groans from where his face is squished into the pillow. His legs feel like jelly and his mind is a stream of static noise.
“Joonie-hyung,” Jungkook calls and Namjoon turns and squints at him. “I went hard, I'm sorry–I don't know what came over me.”
“Shut up.”
“Are you hurt?”
Namjoon sighs into the pillow and throws a thumbs up. “I'm okay. Amazing. Perfect. Thanks.” Would definitely provoke you into doing this again lingers inside his head.
“Sure?” he asks as he cleans Namjoon hesitantly. Soft cloth, warm against his skin.
God. This idiot. Namjoon can't even stay mad when he's being this kind. He turns in his spot to face him and it melts him a little when Jungkook looks genuinely concerned, corners of his lips tugging down and eyebrows furrowed.
Reaching his hands out, Namjoon smiles, “I'm fine, babe, come here and cuddle,” he says, adding a cheeky aegyo he knows Jungkook can't resist.
Jungkook still looks conflicted but manages to smile, trudging towards Namjoon with fondness. “That was good. You were good.” Namjoon sighs and pulls Jungkook's hands around his waist, tucking his face into his neck. He smells of the body lotion he usually wears. Pine and strawberry, everything good. Everything Jungkook.
This was hardly anything by the measure Namjoon had in his mind but surely a step in that direction. It excites him. He can't stop the tingly feeling inside his stomach when he tugs Jungkook closer, feeling his warm skin and breath ghosting his hair. The touch seeps into his skin, into his bloodstream until all he wants is to feel Jungkook again. All over.
If a little bit of provoking is all that it takes for Jungkook to loosen up, then Namjoon will make sure he'll give it to him. Jungkook's hot-blooded, after all, if Namjoon plays his cards right, he might crumble that barrier and cave in. Allow himself to let his desires run wild.
It won't take much, Namjoon supposes, maybe a few tricks to get it right and he'll bag that straight flush on the first go.
“W-what–” Jungkook nearly chokes, eyes blown wide as he struggles to suck a breath in, “–what are you wearing?”
Namjoon swallows and ducks his head, toes rubbing against each other, legs on full display. He didn't really think much of it when he found Jungkook's shirt and decided to wear it. But now in front of him, when the shirt barely covers the swell of his ass even as he tries gripping it, he's starting to doubt his decisions a little bit. “I–uh,” he stalls, fingers wrapping over the hem of the shirt and tugging it down, “it's, uh, your shirt.”
“My shirt.” Jungkook parrots dumbly, eyes raking up the length of his legs languidly.
Namjoon's toes curl in as heat floods into his skin, washing over his neck and ears in a swift tide. He tries not to squirm in his spot, feeling too small in his own body. It tingles all over and Namjoon avoids Jungkook's gaze for his own sanity. “Is that–is that alright?” he asks, gaze trained on the floor.
It's not like Jungkook had never seen Namjoon wearing skimpy clothes. Namjoon mostly walked around shirtless and practically slept naked considering his body heat. They all did. Jungkook for one mostly slept in his briefs. But to wear Jungkook's shirt and only Jungkook's shirt with the tiniest pair of underwear was a first and Namjoon didn't know what to expect.
“Yeah.” Jungkook answers, then clears his throat when it comes out squeaky, “‘s alright.”
On the screen, Jungkook's character crashes into the walls with a clank and a crash, eventually dying with a boom. The screen displays ‘game over’ accompanied by an ill-fitting tone and Jungkook's attention diverts for a moment. Namjoon takes his chance to peek at him, biting his lips as nervousness swooshes against his insides. Jungkook's face seems flushed, ears searing a crimson red, washing down to his neck. He clenches his jaw and swallows, and Namjoon's eyes drift to the controller being held in a white-knuckled grip.
That's…a reaction Namjoon did not expect.
But he wanted more. So much more.
Cowards rarely made the news, anyway.
“My–uh,” Namjoon starts, “my legs are sore. Do you mind giving me a massage?”
Jungkook gazes back at him with a skeptical look and Namjoon almost backtracks. “Thighs,” he prompts and watches delightedly as Jungkook's eyes skid down impulsively, “they hurt,” he finishes, adjusting his shirt and giving Jungkook a peek at his sternum.
“Yeah,” Jungkook answers, flicking his tongue out to lick his lips, “Yeah, sure.”
With reluctant steps, Namjoon treads towards the bed. Flinging his legs over Jungkook's knees, he rests back on his elbows to get a good view. It should be a sin, should make Namjoon feel guilty for using Jungkook's weaknesses this way, spreading his legs like serving a meal on a platter he surely can't resist. But it excites him twice as much as the guilt seeps in. Excites him for what Jungkook is capable of, now that he's got the measly taste of it.
Jungkook's fingertips skim over the soft flesh of his thighs and Namjoon tries to bite back the array of goosebumps that rise on the back of his neck. “A little up.” he points and Jungkook shifts his hands up. “A little more,” Namjoon whispers, even if the room is absolutely devoid of any sound. Jungkook grazes the tips first, then lays the heel of his palm flat against the flesh.
Namjoon tsks, grips at Jungkook's wrist, and tugs it closer to the hem of his underwear. Jungkook eyes his palm, so broad against Namjoon's soft skin, almost like he's in a trance. He looks like he'll combust any moment and Namjoon revels in it a bit too much despite feeling a tinge of pity.
“Yeah. There.” he rasps, voice dropping a few octaves.
Jungkook nods stiffly, eyes intense and fiery. “Stretch before and after practice,” he informs, tone gruff and spiked with a tension that sends shivers down Namjoon's spine.
“Y-yeah.” Namjoon can't help the stutter that falls out of his lips.
Jungkook's hands grip the meat on both his thighs, heat from his palm dripping onto Namjoon's skin. Warm. Then Jungkook lets out a shaky breath and squeezes it. Something tight coils over Namjoon's throat and he dares not to breathe. It's gentle, the way Jungkook rolls his hands, rhythmic in a way that has Namjoon losing his mind. He forces himself to exhale slowly, as Jungkook drags his hands up and down cupping the muscles as he moves.
“Relax,” Jungkook says, but the grating lilt in his voice is a big giveaway to know he's affected by this.
Namjoon hides his smirk as he sinks into the bed, pushing himself more into Jungkook's lap as his hips hang in the air. Jungkook's hands brush Namjoon's cock over the cloth of his underwear and Namjoon jolts lightly.
“Lay down completely,” Jungkook suggests and slides Namjoon's legs to lay them flat. Sucking a sharp breath, he hovers over Namjoon until he's seated and straddling his thighs. His cock brushes against Namjoon's hip and he feels it. Solid. He's rock hard and something triumphant sings in Namjoon's chest.
“Hold them up,” Jungkook says and lifts Namjoon's legs to get in between them. This angle makes it even more obvious and Namjoon can't help the moan that rips out of him when their crotches rub together. He lets out a soft groan, eyes hooded and heavy as his fingers dig into Namjoon's skin.
Namjoon's mind goes blank when Jungkook's pushing his thighs against his chest, his cock placed right over Namjoon's ass. Then his hands hook over the underside of Namjoon's thighs, fingers digging into the meat of his ass. Namjoon can't even blame him when he's there, under him, heaving his chest as blood travels down to his cock in a zap.
Jungkook kneads his muscles, fingers moving lower and into Namjoon's inner thigh. The slide feels extremely relaxing, his hands drawing small circles and relieving every knot.
“So good–” Namjoon moans, raking his shirt up to give Jungkook a glimpse at his lower belly.
When he peers at him, Jungkook's teeth are gritted, seemingly fighting against something Namjoon can't quite put a finger on. He looks tense, eyes concentrated and eyebrows pinched together tightly. His fingers dig into Namjoon's thighs harder, almost bruising, and Namjoon loves it. Loves the prick of Jungkook's nails, loves the scraping tinge over the softness. Would love it more if he let go. Dug in more. But he's holding back with all his might. And no. No.
“More.” Namjoon purrs encouragingly. “Hurts so good–”
Jungkook recoils as if he's stung and pulls back, jerking away to the edge of the bed. Namjoon sits up immediately, searching his face. His eyes tremble slightly like he's at odds with what he wants. With what he could've done.
“Jungkook?” Namjoon calls.
“I-I uh–” Jungkook stutters, eyes cast on the floor, “Taehyung hyung had called me, uh, I gotta go.”
“What?”
“Sorry–It's urgent, I'll see you later.” And then he's dashing out of the room without a second glance. As quick as a lightning.
Namjoon deflates, watching his retreating back as he goes. They were there, so close for something to erupt. For something to just happen. It was supposed to be simple. Namjoon would rile him up and Jungkook would do what he pleased.
Amidst his planning, Jungkook's escape route was what Namjoon had never anticipated.
But that's okay, Namjoon tells himself, pulling the shirt over his head and off his body. They were just getting started after all.
Barely a few days after this had begun, Namjoon figured Jungkook was avoiding him. Well, not actually avoiding, but he was a little withdrawn. A bit quiet compared to his loud gestures and gleam. It wasn't as obvious to the others, rather subtle, but Namjoon caught on instantly.
After years of fine-tuning themselves to gel with each other, they'd grown to notice the smallest of changes. A habit picked up on a whim. They were fine, not exactly different. Jungkook still loomed around him, a hand on his thigh or shoulders or at the curve of his waist at all times. But Namjoon knew something was simmering low under his skin, ready to flood out any minute if inflamed.
He was wary around Namjoon, almost a tad too careful than before. His eyes seemed to assess him at times, sharp and calculating as if to steer himself off a risky road. A little heated too, when no one was looking.
“Namjoon-ssi, tilt to your right, not left,” Dawon, their assistant choreographer instructs, and Namjoon breaks out of his reverie to comply.
“Yeah–I'll just–sorry. I'll try it again.” Namjoon replies, returning a shy smile.
“Relax,” Dawon smiles, “You've got to loosen your arms a bit,” he adds and then places a palm over the small of his back.
Namjoon tries not to look taken aback by the unwelcome advances. “Oh–uh, yeah, sure,” he replies and backs away to position himself. For a moment his eyes flit to Jungkook, who's seated in the corner of the practice room, bathing himself in the cold air under the air conditioner. He clenches his jaw slightly, sticking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Namjoon follows his line of sight and finds him looking at the spot the guy had touched. Furious and bitter.
Was he jealous?
Blinking, Namjoon realizes that the touch might have ticked him off. From the beginning, Jungkook was…was possessive, liked to have a claim on his things, and hated when people touched what was his. Even if that created quite a few rifts between them initially, they'd grown to accept it for what it was – his nature. He was wired that way and nobody could change it.
Despite himself, the demon inside his brain seemed to grapple with the fact. While guilty, Namjoon couldn't help but think how hot Jungkook looked, angered and bothered as the veins on his neck popped. How he seemed to emit a sense of power when he claimed something. And Namjoon, as weak as he was, had been chasing after that, hadn't he?
“Your position is here,” Dawon informs with a suggestive smile on his face, hands coming to clasp around Namjoon's waist to shift him onto the x on the floor. “From the top?”
“Ah–y-yeah, yeah,” Namjoon manages, trying to pull a smile on his face. His eyes flicker to Jungkook again, this time, there's an unmistakable scowl on his face. Red hot anger trickling out of him in waves.
When he catches his eyes, Namjoon grins, trying to alleviate the tension a little bit. But Jungkook only gives him a tight-lipped smile, corners standing taut. He stares daggers into the assistant's back, eyebrows knit together in annoyance. It's intimidating and Namjoon feels every pulse in his body, throbbing and heightened.
“Namjoon-ssi? Do you need a break? You seem a little pale.”
“I–yeah–I'm sorry, I'll just rest for a bit,” he answers, glancing around the hall to find the others busy with their solo practices. Jungkook's still seated in his spot, waiting and gauging. Then comes a whisper inside his head, evil and beyond sensibility. As long as it's harmless, there's nothing wrong with having a little fun, isn't it?
“It's okay.” The guy starts, “you work so hard, I hope you take enough breaks to rest.”
“Uhm–I do, I do,” Namjoon replies, flushing a light pink with embarrassment. “Thank you for your concern, Dawon-ssi.”
“Oh, of course. I just wanted to–” Dawon trails off, stepping closer, taller.
The proximity has Namjoon tensing, but he tries not to show it. “You wanted to?” he encourages, despite the alarms blaring inside his head.
“Wanted to know if you'd like to have a cup of coffee with me?”
In his peripheral vision, he sees Jungkook jump out of his spot, stalking up to them with a glare on his face. Namjoon steps back with surprise, trying to restrain the bubbling fizz inside his gut.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever this is,” he spits out, venom dripping the syllables. “Someone's looking for Namjoon-hyung.” He doesn't even try to mask his anger, fists balled on his sides, looking ready to punch any minute.
The dancer on the other side nods, “sure, let me know when–” he tries to say but Namjoon can't hear the rest when Jungkook holds his wrist and drags him out of there and into the corridor. It's possessive and by far the hottest thing Namjoon's had to see and he was fucking aroused.
“Jungkook-ah, what's wrong?” Namjoon pants out, trying to remain oblivious to his eyes.
Jungkook's fingers slacken around Namjoon's wrist, but he doesn't let go. He's huffing too, drawing ragged breaths as he tries to calm himself. “I fucking hate it when people look at what's mine,” he fumes, voice low, face twisted rottenly.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Something sings wild inside Namjoon's stomach, heat creeping into his face. He swallows it down even as he feels his knees go weak at the proclamation.
“Are you, are you jealous, Gguk-ah?” Namjoon rasps coyly, trying to tamper down the feeling of his insides twisting.
Jungkook whips his head to look at him. “Jealous?” he whispers, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
A small smirk creeps into Namjoon's face. He trails his eyes to where Jungkook's holding onto his wrist possessively, “want me all to yourself?”
Jungkook pulls his hand away and steps back. “I already have you for myself,” he argues, but his face turns stiff as soon as the words leave his mouth as if realizing his anger, unsure and lost.
Part of Namjoon can recognize that expression, familiar to how Jungkook looked when he slithered out of Namjoon's hands just a few days ago. “You can show me then,” he says and reels Jungkook closer by his belt loops, exhaling when he realizes he might be turning red at the admittance.
“Show what?” Jungkook asks, eyes flickering down to Namjoon's lips.
“Show me who I belong to.”
It was all talk, no bite. He knows. Namjoon knows and his stomach churns tightly as he tries to maintain the same heat in his eyes. He could never lie through them. Jungkook would catch him instantly.
The practice room door swings open with a woosh and they break apart, putting some distance between them.
“What the–please don't tell me you were making out in here,” Seokjin taunts, halting in his spot as Hoseok trails behind him.
“What? No!” Namjoon balks, looking sheepish even as he denies it.
Seokjin regards him with a pointed look just as Hoseok snickers into his palms. “What were you doing here then?”
“I just needed some air.”
“Did Jungkook suck it out of you?”
Jungkook snorts on the side. “Hyeong!” Namjoon whines exasperatedly, mouth tugging down to a frown.
“Yeah yeah, stop pouting and get back inside now,” Hoseok asserts, “we're on a schedule here,” he adds, shaking his head lightly.
Jungkook saunters inside with Namjoon following suit. Words hang in the air, tension swimming thickly from the whole ordeal that unfolded inside but Namjoon knows he's much closer than before. A few more stunts, and he'll hit that bullseye.
“Tackle me,” Namjoon says, barging into Jimin's room two days later. Two days later, since the first two were spent agonizing over every damn thing he'd done.
“Good morning Namjoon-ssi, nice to see you on this fine Thursday morning.” Jimin retorts, not looking up from where his nose is buried into what seems like a comic book with a pack of honey butter chips thrown haphazardly on the floor.
Namjoon rolls his eyes, walking over and sitting across from him. “It's actually Friday, but–whatever, listen to me!” he stresses, “I want you to tackle me, preferably in front of Jungkook.”
Jimin clicks his tongue and sets the book aside, eyes looking suspicious. “Tackle you?”
Namjoon nods enthusiastically, “Yes,” he replies, giving him a toothy grin.
“That too in front of Jungkook?”
Another nod.
“Nah, I'll pass. I want to live. Get out.”
“Jimin-ah!” Namjoon whines, “please, I'll do anything.”
“But why?” Jimin squints, head tilted to the side, “why should I do that?” he asks, and then his eyes widen just barely as if discovering something. “Wait! Is this–is this some kink thing? Are you guys roleplaying? Oh, fuck no–”
“No, no! It's not that–” Namjoon reddens, wincing slightly, “It's for–uh–for something.”
“Nah–not interested, I'm not putting my life on the line for you,” he says, shaking his head.
Namjoon scoffs, “Putting your life on the line,” he repeats, “oh, stop being dramatic.”
“Nah–this is dangerous, I'm not doing shit–also, what's up with this weird bubble of tense energy you both have got going?”
Namjoon's spine tenses immediately. “What weird energy?”
“You know very well what I'm talking about,” he says, rolling his eyes, “Jungkook looks off too, out of sorts and I want you both to sort yourselves out. It's ruining my vibe.”
“The only thing ruining any vibe is your dumbass,” Namjoon retorts, trying to play it off, but it stings a little knowing he might have hurt Jungkook unintentionally.
“You know what–at least for that I'm gonna fucking get you!” he screeches and lunges forward.
Namjoon holds up a pillow like a shield and tries to duck but Jimin's faster. He pulls him in a headlock and Namjoon thrashes his legs helplessly, screaming, “Let me go you demon!” Jimin laughs evilly, jerking on his knees and twisting Namjoon's hands and Namjoon tries to get away, huffing out large puffs of breath and–
He doesn't know how they end up in a position that has Jimin over his chest, thighs on either side as he pins Namjoon's wrists over his head. He knew Jimin was stronger than he looked, knew they'd have to tussle it out for some time before he gets an upper hand. But he doesn't expect to fail so spectacularly.
And sure as hell doesn't expect Jungkook to walk in right that moment.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Namjoon and Jimin both freeze, exchanging a bewildered look before Jimin lets him go. It wasn't supposed to go this way. He'd planned it out well. Jimin would tackle him in front of Jungkook and Namjoon would take that as an opportunity to let him know he'd be into it if Jungkook wished. He'd subtly use that to nudge him down that road.
“It's not what it looks like!” Jimin shrieks out, eyes flickering between Namjoon and Jungkook's faces.
“No no! It is what it looks like!” Namjoon grapples to add, elbowing Jimin as he sits up instantly. It's sort of comical.
“Ow!” Jimin squawks, cowering, “No–no, don't believe him, Jungkook-ah, this is all a ploy!” he wheezes, struggling to breathe.
Namjoon whacks him with a pillow to shut him up. “Yah! Learn to shut up sometimes–”
“Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook calls, voice a little too calm for the way he looks, “can we talk?”
That shuts them both up. Namjoon stares at him, heart plummeting into the pits of his stomach. He panics, wondering if he took it too far, crossing a line in his pursuit of breaking Jungkook's restraint. Stretched the wire of his liberty a little too long for it to break.
“In private,” Jungkook adds after seconds, face devoid of any emotion which gets Namjoon's gut sinking into itself.
“Yeah.” he manages to reply, then sighs into his palms when he notices Jungkook's already left the room.
Jimin pulls a face, mouthing, “talk it out,” when Namjoon stands up to leave.
The steps Namjoon takes towards Jungkook's room are the heaviest, his head weighing him down with the thoughts of repercussions. Of ifs and buts, of everything he's done. Of what he'd do if Jungkook were to be upset with him, were to give him the hurt eyes, were to be disappointed in him, were to–
You're always in your head, Namjoon-ah, Yoongi had said a long time ago, while they were meddling with the chords of a song they weren't ready to ever release. It was one of those songs that just stayed on the desktop screen, not ready to be deleted or upped into something presentable. I hate being there, Namjoon replied, voice small and knees pulled up to his chest. Yoongi's answering sigh had made him curl up more.
He had a little too much on his plate back then. Not much space for himself.
Jungkook never unleashed his temper in front of Namjoon. Or directed it at him, more specifically. He had no reason to, Namjoon was careful around everyone. A little too careful, Seokjin would say in a snort. But that was how he grew up to be, what with having hyungs and roles that often collided with each other.
To say Namjoon was terrified was an understatement. You did this to yourself, didn't you, Namjoon-ah?
Right.
The fire was in place. Flaming and smoky. He had to take the heat now, whether it burns his skin or keeps him warm.
“What the hell was that about?” Jungkook hisses when Namjoon enters his room. He's seated on the edge of the bed, face warped into a scowl.
Namjoon fights down the tremble in his bones, nerves surging with restlessness. He stands in front of him and shifts on his feet, not daring to meet Jungkook's eyes.
Jungkook clicks his mouth and narrows his eyes. “Why was Jimin-hyung straddling you?” he grits out, this one with bitten-back anger. It's a question but the tone suggests he doesn't need an answer.
Namjoon tries, anyhow. “I uh–I was hanging out with him and then we had this argument, so–”
“Hyung, what are you doing?”
“Hm?”
“Don't play dumb. You think I haven't noticed the things you've been doing?” he hisses, palm clasping the edge of the bed frame.
Namjoon chews his lip. He wasn't guilty. He'd gone past that. This was the unavoidable reality he had to face. “I didn't–I didn't mean to make you upset, it's just, I had my reasons for it.”
Jungkook doesn't waver, tilting his head questioningly, fire in his eyes blazing as fierce as a thousand suns. “And what's that?”
“I just,” Namjoon stalls, stringing the words inside his head first, “you're a great guy, Jungkook-ah, an amazing boyfriend, everything I've ever wanted in a man. You're kind, gentle, and sex with you is so much fun. I love it, I promise I do, but–” he hangs back, head drumming with the sounds of his own pulse.
Jungkook taps a finger against the wood, the sound similar to a ticking clock. “But?”
Namjoon huffs out a thwarted breath. He's come this far, might as well go for the home run now. “But I don't need to be treated like glass all the damn time. Stop holding back and just…just use me. Treat me like a slut, I can take it!”
He's panting when he's done, adrenaline high with a mixture of boldness and mortification.
Jungkook blinks at him slowly, trying to make sense of it. “So for that, you decided to let strangers flirt with you, let people touch and straddle you?” he fires back, lips pursing.
Namjoon reels back like he's hurt. Fuck. When he puts it like that, it does sound shitty. “No–no! fuck–that, that wasn't my intention, it's just–I can uh, there's this space I can slip into when I feel dominated and I was, I wanted to make you jealous… so you can lose that bit of self-control you have with me and–ah. Fuck. I don't know what I'm saying.” he runs a hand through his face, losing his breath. “I'm sorry, it was stupid. I don't know what I was thinking and–”
“Baby,” Jungkook calls, voice subdued and Namjoon swallows, not daring to meet his eyes. He steps forward and Namjoon steps back, eventually hitting the wall. He tilts Namjoon's chin to face him and Namjoon turns reluctantly. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
Namjoon blinks, heart beating unnaturally fast. Thump. Thump. Thump. He hopes his ribs contain the sounds.
“You've got these gorgeous thighs that I've dreamt of marking up ever since I saw them. Your waist, your lips. Fuck–It's insane what you do with them. Every time I touch you, I have to remind myself to go easy. And every time I've wanted to let go…I was scared I'd take it too far.”
Namjoon's cheeks flush a crimson red, heat sweeping down to the pits of his stomach. “Jungkook-ah,” he croaks out, voice hoarse.
“If you wanted me to treat you like a slut, all you had to do was ask.”
Just like that, everything comes to a blaring halt. Namjoon's insides flip, body tilting in its orbit just enough to create storms. “Huh.” The word burns his skin, but it feels so good. So right.
“What's your safe word?” Jungkook asks, hand reaching up to unbutton his shirt.
Oh. Where did that come from? “Koya.” Namjoon breathes out.
The collar button comes off.
“If you're too wrecked to say anything, just tap me twice, okay? Anywhere.”
Namjoon gulps, blinking haphazardly. “O-Oh.” he stutters out, mind whirring at a high speed.
Jungkook smiles and it tingles Namjoon's skin with how foreign this feels. “Okay. Do you know the traffic light system for when we're in an act?”
Act. Fuck. Jungkook was far ahead and Namjoon's brain hadn't caught up yet. “Yeah, how do you–uh, how–” he stumbles, trying to find footing on the floor.
“You didn't name me golden maknae for nothing, did you?” Jungkook smirks deviously, “I'm way ahead of you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Fuck. Namjoon feels his body light up. “Oh.”
The next two buttons come off, giving Namjoon a peek at his sternum, the prominent line dipping down. And Namjoon can't help but stare unashamedly.
“I'll tell you what I do beforehand and if you're not okay with that, you can tell me and we stop immediately. Got it?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Ask for what you want.”
“W-what?”
Fuck. He's stuttering way too much. Jungkook's going to debauch this front he puts on.
“I said, ask me.”
He can ask. Of course, he can. He was older and way more experienced. Had more years over Jungkook. Heck, he'd done this way more times than Jungkook could count. Or… at least he assumes he has.
But it's hard not to notice the power Jungkook exudes in just a few words. Hard not to surrender and turn putty in his hands.
“I-I want you to treat me like slut, fuck me until I can't take it anymore. Want you to make me feel powerless. Want you to take it all.”
The last three buttons come off. Jungkook steps back, giving Namjoon a full view of his abs, toned chest, and the thin sheen of sweat that clings over his skin, gleaming yellow under the light. Namjoon drags his eyes to meet Jungkook's and he smirks, impish and wicked like he's caught on Namjoon's interest. Namjoon's never been on the receiving end of this and a strange thrill courses through his veins.
“Undress and get on the bed.”
It takes a few seconds for Namjoon's brain to catch up on Jungkook's words, but when he does, a jolt of heat runs down his spine. He blinks rapidly, “W-what–”
“I asked you to undress, Namjoon. Too dumb to understand my words?”
Namjoon.
A soft “oh” tumbles out of Namjoon’s mouth and he scrambles to comply, peeling his shirt off in one swift motion. Jungkook's eyes follow his movements, intense and predatory. They've done this before. Jungkook had seen every inch of his skin, marked at least most of it. But this was different. Unfamiliar.
“On the bed,” Jungkook repeats, voice heavy and breathy. The gruffness in his voice has dwindled, eyes busy raking the naked expanse of Namjoon’s body. His gaze halts at Namjoon's chest first, slowly dipping down to his legs and then back up.
Namjoon swallows, and steps onto the edge of the bed wholly aware of Jungkook's eyes on him. Once he's seated, he turns back to see Jungkook sliding the shirt off his shoulders and trudging closer with a wolfish gaze. Gulping, Namjoon shifts back, nerves coursing with anticipation he's never felt before.
“I'm gonna tie you down. Is that okay?” Jungkook asks, crawling on top of him.
A sharp breath yanks out of Namjoon's throat but he nods earnestly, feeling his heart rate pick up abruptly.
“I need words, hyung-ah.”
“Y-yes. Yes, o-okay. Perfectly fine.”
Jungkook smiles. A little devious and warped.
Namjoon's not sure what he expected when Jungkook talked about tying him down but it's definitely not for him to whip out a pair of handcuffs from under the bed. “Wait. Y-you–” he breathes through a stutter, “–you had handcuffs with you?”
Jungkook huffs out a small laugh and looms over him on his knees, a smirk evident on the corner of his lips. “Among other things,” he says casually, grabbing Namjoon's hands and pulling them above his head to pin them in place. “Don't worry, I'll use them all on you.”
The metallic lock clicks in and Namjoon darts his tongue out to wet his lips, pulse buzzing with nervous energy.
Jungkook inspects the lock a few more times and pulls away once satisfied. “Try to break free,” he whispers, against Namjoon's lips, his breath hot and tingly.
“C-can't.” Namjoon lets out, flushed and breathless for reasons more than just being restrained.
Jungkook grins, cups Namjoon's face with both hands, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on Namjoon's lips. “Good.” It's only a chaste press of lips and Namjoon craves more. He tries to deepen the kiss with a small whimper, chasing after him as far as the cuff lets him – only for Jungkook to pull away and far, incremental in distance. “Not so easy,” he mutters in a rasp and dives into Namjoon's neck.
He trails hot open-mouthed kisses down the long line of Namjoon's neck, and drags wet lips over his collarbone, leaving ruddy bruises in the wake of his bites. Namjoon arches his back to have him close and hisses under his breath when the metal cuff digs into his skin.
Jungkook doesn't pull away, drawing a line of hickeys over Namjoon's sternum, while his hand comes up to knead his chest. He sucks a train of marks that bloom red and blue and then latches his mouth onto Namjoon's nipple. Namjoon squirms, trying to pull away but Jungkook doesn't let him, holding him firm with his knees. “Let me play with these tits some more, yeah?” he asks in a drawl, swirling the tip of his tongue over the areola and then sucking the bud in between his teeth.
“Gguk-ah–ah shit!” It stings – the good kind and Namjoon bites his lower lip to keep himself from making any noise.
Once he's had enough he pulls away with a lewd pop and licks his lips. “So perfect,” he hums in appreciation, pinching and rolling the bud between a thumb and forefinger. “Look at these perky little nipples, could chew on them all damn day,” he says, licking a stripe across the engorged bud and then biting it down.
“Nghhh please–” Namjoon can't help the whine that tumbles out of his mouth, stomach twisting with a tingly feeling as his eyes flutter shut. Jungkook knows he's sensitive there and yet – This fucker.
“All for me.” Jungkook groans, moving to the other side and licking the erect bud until it's rosy and pebbled.
A fog descends into Namjoon's skull as he stares at the hair falling over Jungkook's forehead, at the deep black in his eyes, and the lust tinkering over the edge of his lashes. He squirms and twists under Jungkook's weight, bucking his hips for any bit of friction he can get on his cock.
Jungkook seems to catch on easily. He pulls back and lands a hard smack on the side of Namjoon's thigh.
“Jungkook!” Namjoon gasps around a tremor, eyes wide and heavy with lust.
Jungkook glares back in defiance, gaze so hot it tears through Namjoon’s skin and reaches his bones. “I don’t like greedy boys, Namjoon,” he snarls, clenching his jaw in a way that sends a shiver down Namjoon’s spine. “I’ll have to discipline you now.”
Namjoon only has time to swallow and blink once, before Jungkook flips him over to have him go on his knees. Ass presented for Jungkook to do the taking.
That easy; it was that easy for Jungkook to manhandle him. Move him around like a ragdoll and all Namjoon could do was take it. Like he was made for this.
Jungkook straightens in his spot and grabs a handful of Namjoon’s ass in his palm. “Count,” he orders and lands a smack on his ass cheek, hard enough to leave a handprint.
“Ung–shit!” Namjoon swears, body jerking forward with impact.
Jungkook tuts disapprovingly, running a hand over what may be a handprint. “I said count,” he snarls and Namjoon gets another stinging hit. Right over the first one that has him clamping his eyes shut.
“Ow–fuck! Sorry. Sorry. Two. Two!” Namjoon flounders to answer, gripping the bed sheet tight when he gets another one.
Relentless in his ways, Jungkook spanks him until tears sting at the corner of his eyes and spill out of his lashes. That familiar heat Namjoon longed for lights up inside his stomach, flame coming to life with each hit.
“God. How cliché.” Jungkook laughs breathily, throwing another whack towards Namjoon’s bruised ass. “I expected this from you, y’know? The big, famed leader. A frontman. All composed and firm for the world. But I know what you are.” he continues, hit after hit as Namjoon whimpers with a new wave of tears pouring out of his eyes. “You're nothing but a filthy little slut.”
The word feels good on his ears. Melts off his body like a chunk of butter. “Eight. Eight oh god.” Namjoon stutters, drooling from the corner of his mouth. He's panting, cock leaving wet spots and knees buckling into the sheets as his body trembles but he wants more – more of Jungkook's hands over him, inside him. Around him.
“All those stunts you pulled just to have me debauch you. Parading your little ass for the world to see.” he growls, gripping Namjoon's neck possessively, “But you're mine, Namjoon. Only I get to ruin you, you hear me? Only me.”
“Only you. Only you–Hnggg–fuck.”
“How much?”
“T-ten.”
Jungkook runs a hand over the tender surface of Namjoon's ass and heaves him over to lie on his back again. The cuffs tangle and Namjoon makes a soft noise so Jungkook untangles them for him.
“Color, baby?”
Namjoon hisses when the sheets rub against his rosy ass but settles without much protest. “Green. ‘m good.” The sting might last a few days but it's worth it.
“Gonna be good for me now?”
Namjoon nods earnestly, uncaring if he looks like a bobblehead. “I'll be good, I'll be so good. I promise. Please–” he swallows, pleading as he wills his tears away. “Please touch me. Please.”
Jungkook hooks a finger under Namjoon’s chin and brings him into a searing kiss. Namjoon chokes on a gasp, caught off guard with the intensity Jungkook brings. He falls boneless under Jungkook’s touch, lets him lick into the curve of his lower lip, and sink his teeth right after.
Namjoon parts his lips in breathless, frantic pants and Jungkook takes his chance, sliding his tongue in. He licks into his mouth, sharing their breaths when it drains their lungs.
Jungkook cradles Namjoon’s skull in his hands, sliding his leg between Namjoon’s. He presses his thigh on Namjoon’s cock and smirks at the small whine that slips out of Namjoon’s mouth.
Not beyond begging, Namjoon trembles in his hold, “Jungkook, please,” he pleads, eyes shining with tears.
“I like it when you beg.” Jungkook lets out with no remorse, hands trailing down the length of Namjoon’s body, over the marks he left and Namjoon feels like he’s set on fire, nerves wanting more.
“Please, Jungkook-ah. I’m trying to be good. Please.”
Satisfied, Jungkook smiles and pulls away. It doesn’t take much time for him to grab the lube and slide in between his legs but Namjoon feels it as good as an eternity. Once he's back, he grabs Namjoon’s legs and folds them to have his hole on display. Normally, Namjoon would die of humiliation at the position but the dreamy blurriness is just starting to set in and he’s not sure how long until the restraints fall off completely.
“Want me to touch you here, baby?” Jungkook asks, skimming a finger just around the pucker.
Namjoon jolts a little, “yes, touch me all over, please. Please.”
Jungkook takes a few seconds to stare and if Namjoon didn't know him well enough, it wouldn't have mattered. But he does, and he knows that the gaze reeks of fascination and hunger in equal amounts. Before he can cover and shy away, Jungkook dives in to clasp his fingers around Namjoon's cock.
“Fuc–Jungkook–” Namjoon gasps, bucking his hips a little too eagerly.
Jungkook drags his fingers all over the length of his shaft, dipping a finger into the slit. With the way Namjoon's been feeling, he knows he won't last too long. Not when Jungkook flicks the underside of his cockhead with his thumb. Where he knows he feels the best.
It's maddening and before Namjoon can process it, Jungkook's seated in between his thighs and licking a long stripe across his rim. “Holy shit–” he swears, lips falling open and staggering back in his spot.
Jungkook's hands shoot up to grab Namjoon's ankles and keep him in place. “Stay still or I'll punish you again,” he warns, spreading Namjoon's ass apart, an angry twitch on his brows.
Something swoops inside Namjoon's lower belly, hot like liquid gold. Jungkook presses his tongue flat against Namjoon's taint, licking down until it reaches his rim. “Oh fuck you taste good.”
Namjoon opens up easily, letting him lap at his pucker and breach into his hole. He licks and slurps around the ring of muscle with sounds that make Namjoon feel like mush. Namjoon's body trembles and he arches his neck into the sheets, letting the warmth flood inside him in ripples.
Jungkook takes him into his mouth completely and fucks his tongue inside, curling it up each time he's inside to reach the little bundle of swell there. The hand on his cock and the tongue inside his hole. It's a lot and Namjoon feels his insides coiling and untying, all between two breaths.
“Couldn't wait to get my mouth on you.” Jungkook pulls back only to suck on his rim like he's being fed after many moons. Namjoon wants to pull himself up, and watch Jungkook but the cuffs offer limited movements and he's only left with the option to feel him. The feeling brings sounds of Jungkook slurping and groaning into Namjoon's hole and it feels so good, melting his brain into a blanket of hazy goo.
With great difficulty, Namjoon threads the words in his mind onto his impatient tongue, “Jungkook, please. I want to cum. I want to cum so bad. Please–please–plea–”
Jungkook draws back in an instant, making Namjoon whine at the loss of contact. A high-pitched whimper accompanied by a few tears. “No,” he growls with a stern tug at the base of his cock, enough to have Namjoon curl into the sheets, orgasm kicked into the back of his mind. “You cum with me inside you, or you don't cum at all.”
And suddenly, Namjoon is faced with the reality that the Jungkook he knows is only a fragment in the myriad of what he's yet to see.
Before Namjoon can dwell on the implications of what his mind has gathered, Jungkook cups his ass in his palm and drags him down. Namjoon yelps, a small screeching sound leaving his throat. “Pretty perky ass,” Jungkook says, juggling one in his hand and Namjoon feels his face growing hot.
Wet cold fingers press against his pucker, fingertips grazing the wrinkle there. Namjoon holds his breath and braces himself but Jungkook gives him no time, plunging two fingers inside in one go.
“Ah!” Namjoon gasps, eyes flying wide. Jungkook's fingers are thick where Namjoon's are long, fat around the knuckles where Namjoon's are daintier. It's a sudden intrusion but not entirely unwelcome.
“Remember when I fucked you for the first time, baby?” Jungkook starts, working his fingers inside and scissoring him open. “Got you all swollen and pink around here. You couldn't sit for three whole days.”
Namjoon's breath catches in his throat. He does. He remembers it like yesterday, remembers being full on Jungkook's cock for the first time and loving it despite the burn it brought.
“God, you felt like a virgin taking my cock for the first time.” Jungkook goes on, fucking Namjoon open on his fingers. “You were always a greedy little thing, always so desperate for cock, weren't you, Joonie?”
Namjoon quakes when Jungkook's fingers curl inside, nudging his prostate again and again. His eyes roll back into his skull, body burning with the need to push back on Jungkook's fingers.
“Answer me, Namjoon,” he says, picking up the pace in a way that has Namjoon muffling his moans into the sheets.
“Yes–ah–yes!” Namjoon staggers, that sweet pull inside his belly coming back at full force. “‘m greedy for cock. Wan’ it all the time–jus’–ah fuck–”
Jungkook rewards him by adding another finger and shoving them deeper. Namjoon chokes on a gasp that breaks into a desperate whine. He wants to touch his cock, get some reprieve. Anything. But he's at Jungkook's mercy, merely meant for taking.
It happens again. Nerves pull him tight as the pleasure builds inside. Just a little more–
As if sensing it, Jungkook pulls his fingers out just in time, and Namjoon wails like he's stabbed, tears dripping onto his cheeks. The haze in his skull steams and ascends, ready to tip out and shut him off.
“Be a good boy and I'll let you cum.”
Namjoon's ears perk up to listen. Good boy. He wants to be a good boy. He wants to listen to Jungkook. He wants to be stuffed full. “Good boy,” he repeats, and Jungkook smiles, soft enough to feel out of character.
“Yes. You'll be my good boy, won't you, Joonie?” Jungkook asks, pulling Namjoon's legs over his shoulders.
“I'll be good.” Namjoon agrees, licking his lips.
Jungkook slicks his cock with lube and nudges the wet tip on Namjoon's hole. “What's your color, baby?”
Namjoon watches him through half-lidded eyes, sniffling a little even as tears dry on his cheeks. “Green. I'm good. Just fuck me–fuck me–Ung!”
Jungkook slams into him in one go, burying his whole length inside Namjoon and bottoming out with a loud, guttural groan.
Namjoon holds his breath as his vision goes white for a solid five seconds. The stretch burns, the breach unexpected and rough.
Jungkook's hot and unbearably large inside him. Throbbing in a way that leaves Namjoon breathless.
It feels like his first time all over again. Makes him go limp while Jungkook's cock stretches his walls obscenely wide.
“Fucking tight.” Jungkook grits out through clenched teeth, gripping Namjoon's thighs hard enough to bruise. “Your hole is always so fucking tight, swallowing my cock in right away.”
“Oh, fuck!” Namjoon moans when Jungkook pulls back and rams into him again. Ruthless as ever.
Namjoon tightens his hold on Jungkook, hands gripping the headboard through the cuffs. There's no incremental pace. Jungkook pounds into him at full force, drawing back and fucking him so hard his balls slap against Namjoon's bottom.
“Look how you clench around me, baby,” he rasps, sliding in deep to feel the heat on his cockhead and drawing back, only to do it again. Again and again. “Like you're made for this, like you're nothing but a hole for me to fuck into.”
“‘m god! right there–” Namjoon sobs, “–right there, ah–fffuck!” The lube squelches with every movement in tandem with the bed frame rattling. Namjoon feels his muscles twist and twitch under Jungkook, feels his bones tremble each time Jungkook slams into him and nails his prostate.
“Such a pretty little slut.” Jungkook grunts, voice rough and dripping with lust. “So–fuck, so hot and tight fo’ me.” He groans low in his throat, breath cutting short each time he hammers into Namjoon.
It makes Namjoon dizzy with pleasure even if his cock lays there, untouched and leaking precum onto his stomach. Jungkook's cock splits him, hips smacking into him with a power he's never felt.
Before he knows it, he's on the brink of release, holding onto the last bits of sanity when he croaks out, “Jungkook, ple–please. I want to cum. Let me cum. Please!” He knows it's premature. Not enough to save him from embarrassment. But he's been teased enough and he's about to lose his damn mind if he can't have this.
“Cum for me, baby. You've been so good.”
Something electric fizzles across his nerves, lighting up at the ends. Namjoon cries out loudly when he spills onto himself, the gratification astounding.
Warm liquid spurts out of his cock, dribbling onto his stomach and running down the sides. It's the quickest, most intense orgasm he's ever had and it makes him arch his back and toes curl in a way he's only ever heard of.
Jungkook doesn't give him enough time to gather his wits, pistoning into him through his orgasm. “That's it. That's a good boy.” he soothes despite the power in his thrusts not deterring one bit. “Came for me so prettily.”
Even with his orgasm waning, Namjoon feels himself quivering and shuddering. Jungkook's thrusts don't stop and it only proves he's intent on his own release, uncaring of the sensitivity that fills Namjoon's lower half.
A minute in and Jungkook flips him and takes him from the side, one leg pulled into his chest while Namjoon holds onto the pillow for his dear life. Lays there and takes it like he's always dreamed of.
The stimulation on his prostate is constant and intense. Sharper, now that he's had his fill.
“Gonna–gonna cum.” Jungkook moans, setting a violent pace. “Gonna fill you up so good you'll be leaking for days–fuck!”
Maybe it's a few thrusts. Maybe it's a lot more. Namjoon's not entirely sure when it happens except the feeling of warm liquid gushing into his walls. A steady feel of being pumped in until he's filled to the brim.
“Fuck–fuck–fuck.” He hears Jungkook groan and his hips stutter. Hears the dirty squelch of cum trickling outside and on his inner thighs when Jungkook fucks him through his orgasm like Namjoon's just a toy to get off to.
Through it all, Namjoon feels used in the best way. And in his submission, gloriously beautiful.
The mist in his mind boils and tips off, engulfing his whole being into a dreamy daze and shutting his mind off like a light switch.
In his haze, Namjoon barely registers Jungkook unlocking and sliding the cuffs off his wrists. He blinks at the ceiling blearily, eyelashes too heavy on his own eyes.
Jungkook pulls out gently, then heaves himself off the bed and the warmth from having his body pressed to him is gone. He hears a whimper, a cry for something only realizing a second too late that it came from him.
“I'm right here, baby.” Jungkook shushes him, dabbing a warm washcloth between Namjoon's thighs. “Just cleaning you up, okay?”
Namjoon sighs softly, gears in his head whirring down to a slow halt.
Jungkook brushes a tissue over his cheeks in soft strokes, wiping the tears away. “Gosh baby, you were so perfect for me,” he whispers, trailing his lips over his jaw. “You looked so cute with my cock stuffing you. Took it like a champ. Felt amazing.”
“Cold.” Namjoon tries to say. Tries to spread his arms. But the high in his head makes him lightheaded, boneless under his skin.
Jungkook's quick to catch the little noise of discomfort, sliding under the sheets to have Namjoon's head cradled over his chest. “You looked so beautiful taking your punishment,” he coos, pulling the duvet to cover Namjoon's body. Just until his neck. “Such a good boy. I'm so proud of you.”
Namjoon lets out a pleased purr and nuzzles into Jungkook's collarbone. Jungkook bends down and trails chaste kisses over Namjoon's forehead, nails raking the back of his scalp. “You're okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. You're safe with me.”
Instinctively, Namjoon hugs Jungkook's body closer, mouthing at his neck as his teeth clatter. Was he shivering?
Jungkook runs his hands all over Namjoon's back, rubbing his sides and petting his hair. “Such a good baby. Good boy,” he repeats, over and over again. Until it reaches the deep trenches of Namjoon's brain, warms him at his core.
Eventually, Namjoon stops shivering, body falling limp in Jungkook's hold. Jungkook's words don't stop, like a loving pour of honey over burning skin. The more Jungkook whispers into his skin, the more Namjoon feels less exposed and raw.
In return, with every ounce of energy he can muster, he tilts his head and looks into Jungkook's eyes. Eyes shining with quiet gratitude that he hopes Jungkook understands.
Thank you for checking on me. For keeping me safe. For everything.
Jungkook smiles and Namjoon thinks he does. “I know, my love,” he mumbles, tucking Namjoon's face back into his neck and weaving a hand around his waist. “I know.”
Satisfied, Namjoon lets himself drift into the tidal waves of sleep, listening to the steady thrum of Jungkook's heartbeat.
“Ungooyah, I'll sit on a soft cushion for a few days.” Namjoon tries, craning his neck from where he's sprawled on Jungkook's lap, lower half bare. “It's fine. I swear.”
“I knew you'd bruise but fuck this is–” Jungkook swears, dabbing some more aloe gel on his ass and smearing it all over. “–it's like a real fucking peach.”
Namjoon snorts out a laugh. “At least I live up to the ideal now.”
“‘s not funny.” Jungkook clicks his mouth, massaging the gel from one ass cheek to the other, and then mumbles a barely audible, “I hurt you,” that doesn't fail to fall on Namjoon's ears.
Namjoon scurries off of Jungkook's lap instantly, tugging the bathrobe over his front when he sits on his haunches. It should give him whiplash with how different Jungkook's face seems, a small frown between his brows, tightness on his lips, and eyes burning with worry. But he's learned enough to expect it.
“And I loved every bit of it!” he counters with a defiant stare.
Jungkook doesn't meet his gaze. “The marks–”
“–will fade.” Namjoon completes it for him.
Jungkook doesn't seem convinced, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Namjoon shifts forward and places a hand over his. “I loved it, Gguk-ah. I really did.”
“Was it good?” Jungkook asks, apprehension glazing his eyes.
Namjoon nods sincerely. “It was everything I wanted and more.”
Jungkook shakes his head lightly and looks away, clearly battling with his reason. “Still. I'm sorry for going too far. I should've gone easy with the spanking and I just–”
Namjoon groans and sighs out a long breath. “Jungkook-ah, I love you, but can you please stop acting like you killed me?”
A beat passes. Or more. Jungkook doesn't answer him and Namjoon lifts his head to find him shell-shocked, lips parted just barely.
“What did you just say?” he asks, eyes wide.
“I'm perfectly fine! if anything, I like the reminder and–”
“No hyung.” Jungkook intercepts with a hand, “did you just say you love me?”
Oh. Namjoon freezes for a breath, willing his eyes back into their sockets as realization sinks in. And when it does, heat floods into his cheeks in one swift wave, seeping down into his neck and belly.
Did he say that?
Admittedly, Namjoon had said it a lot of times before. Not just to Jungkook but to all of them. They all did too.
But this was different. He knew it was different.
He loved Jungkook. Jungkook made him happy. It came easy.
“Joonie-hyung,” Jungkook calls, searching his eyes.
There's no running away. He wants this. “Yeah,” he mumbles shyly, keeping his gaze trained on his hands.
Jungkook pitches forward, grabs him by the nape of his neck, and smashes their lips together in a heated kiss. Namjoon melts into it instantly, half stumbling into Jungkook's lap when he tugs his hips.
Jungkook kisses him with every bit of love he'd been holding back. Like he's intent on letting Namjoon know that he'd been waiting. Hoping. And wishing on every star he came across.
They kiss until they're breathless with want and affection. Hard and messy. And Namjoon thinks this is easy too.
When they part for air, Jungkook pulls him right back in, kissing every inch of his face. The Apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the crease of his eyelids, and the hinge of his jaw. It gets Namjoon bubbling with warmth and giggles, unable to contain the fluttery feeling inside his belly. Gets him squirming and turning rosy all over again.
When they let go, Jungkook sighs dreamily.
“Can't believe you said I love you while you're half naked. This is like the stuff from my wet dreams.”
Namjoon scrambles to wrap the robe tighter and levels him with a glare that seems to tamper with the flush on his cheeks. “You're gross,” he says, rolling his eyes even as his lips pull into a smile.
Jungkook grins at him, pulling Namjoon closer by his waist and pecking his lips again. “I love you too.”