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Yoongi still looked good.
Even though it had been years since Jungkook had last seen the older man, Yoongi was still just as handsome as he remembered, still just as beautiful, the awakening to his sexuality all the way back in god forsaken high school.
This encounter was fated, Jungkook had decided, sipping back beer from the bottle Namjoon had passed him, out here beneath the stars and a slivered moon, warm around the fireplace, Jungkook doing his best not to stare too hard at the boy he’d once loved so long ago.
This is fate.
I am meant to be here right now.
So Yoongi can see the person I’ve become, and regret rejecting me.
It was a childish thing to want, to aim for, but revenge of sorts had been on Jungkook’s mind since the day Yoongi had ripped his heart right out of his chest, so Jungkook didn’t really care how petty it was.
Not right now, not with Yoongi there, right across from him and glowing in firelight, sipping on his own beer as Seokjin regaled him with a loud, excited story.
God, he’s still so pretty.
This was definitely meant to be.
The memory of his rejection was one Jungkook didn’t entertain as much in the recent years, moved on and up in the world and as a person, but sometimes it itched in the back of his head, at the gym, on dates, in bed with boys who tended to bear a resemblance to what Yoongi had looked like back in school.
Always edgy boys, lithe and baby faced, natural hair stripped of colour and dyed something wild, shaved at the nape, ears littered with piercings, and it was pathetic to fuck them and pretend it was Yoongi from back then, but sometimes the fantasy was too good to pass up.
Sometimes he even touched himself to it, a scenario where they’d reunite after all that time, and Yoongi is older and wiser and probably kinder, but still drops to his knees like a desperate slut as he begs for Jungkook’s forgiveness.
Please, Jungkook, forgive me for what I said.
Hyung is so sorry.
But we can date now, if you want.
I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll do anything, please, please, please.
Just forgive me.
And in those fantasies, Jungkook would fuck his load down Yoongi’s wet throat, sneering and grinning, finally a winner.
I don’t think so, Yoongi hyung.
But thanks for the blow job, ha ha ha.
Their eyes met from across the yellow flames, before Yoongi glanced away quickly.
Cute.
But Jungkook didn’t want to feel endeared over it.
Still wanted to be angry, still wanted his revenge, and he’d worked so hard on himself to right all the things Yoongi had made him feel shitty over, just in case this day ever came.
A-and also because he wanted to, of course.
But this could be good too.
Could be perfect if Yoongi’s fleeting and retreating eyes were an indication of anything, holding when he thought Jungkook wasn’t paying attention, fleeing when the younger man looked his way, and even with the night shadowing everything, with the fire casting strange light – It looked as if Yoongi was blushing.
Like he was attracted to what he saw when looking across at Jungkook now, no longer the shy, scrawny boy from school but a strong man with a confidence to match his appearance, built up over the years as Jungkook worked hard.
Worked hard at the gym and created a body to be proud of, fit and firm and eye-catching, going four times a week or whenever he needed to blow off some steam, enjoying the routine and the way people practically threw themselves at him for a fuck.
Tailored his appearance into all the things Jungkook had grown up to find attractive, hair grown out, ears and face pierced artfully, working extra shifts and saving up his money to have ink pressed into his skin, all paired perfectly with a wardrobe of tight pants and black shirts.
Jungkook loved how he looked now, he really did, and maybe that was vanity talking, maybe it was his ego, but there was no way he was going to shove his hard work beneath a rug to be ignored, especially after years of Yoongi’s last words drifting around in his head like floating dust.
You’re just a kid, Jungkook.
Just a skinny, boring kid.
Yoongi was looking at him again, and this time the eye contact held, Jungkook tilting his head, the corner of his mouth perking up as he smirked, and Yoongi visibly swallowed, glancing away to look back at Seokjin.
Namjoon clapped Jungkook on the shoulder, bringing his attention back into the conversation.
“Jungkook, you remember Hoseok, right?”
Kinda.
Not really.
“Hey man,” Hoseok must have just arrived, all big smiles and bunched cheeks, his jacket and shorts too large for his frame but still somehow looking stylish. “Almost didn’t recognise you – You look like a fucking rockstar.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook laughed awkwardly, knowing he looked good, proud of it but still somehow feeling unused to compliments. “Just doing my best.”
“No shit, you must hit the gym like, what, seven times a week or something?”
“Only four, it’s not so bad.”
“Is that a lip ring?”
“Yeah, I have a friend that opened their own tattoo and piercing shop last year, they wanted some more things for their portfolio… I’ve got an eyebrow one too.”
“Wow,” Hoseok whistled, taking a seat on the log bench to the left of Namjoon, tossing his bag aside as he reached for the beer in Namjoon’s hand. “Definitely didn’t have money on you being the cool one all this time later – Anyone else remember the coconut hair?”
Yes.
Sigh.
Jungkook smiled, ruffling his shaggy curls, half of them pulled up in a messy bun, tied back loosely with a stray piece of ribbon.
“Yeah, it wasn’t working for me anymore.”
“Good for you dude.”
“Thanks.”
Looking around, not too much had really changed from highschool.
Jungkook had always been the youngest in their almost-friend group, meeting Seokjin once, Hoseok a handful of times, taken under the wing of Taehyung and Jimin after they’d caught him crying alone in the boy’s bathroom in his first week, dragged to the senior lunch tables to meet the rest of the rag-tag bunch.
The day was still fresh despite all the time that had passed, and even now, Hoseok and Namjoon chatting and drinking, Jungkook could recall it vividly.
The smell of the air, the way the sun beat down on him, guided out to a lunch table as Jimin’s arm interlocked with his own, and Jungkook had tried to calm his sniffles and tried to appear normal and good, but he was so nervous to meet new people, especially knowing they were going to be so much older than he was.
“This is JK,” Jimin introduced him, Jungkook hoping his nose and eyes weren’t pink from his sobbing, his backpack massive as it weighed down his shoulders, giving an awkward wave as eyes raised up from packed lunches to stare at him. “He’s gonna sit with us today, okay?”
Namjoon had smiled brightly, and Jungkook saw kindness in his dimples.
“Yeah, of course – Come sit with hyung, JK, you got any food for lunch?”
“Uh, n-no–”
“Wanna share my sandwich?”
Felt rude to turn down such a generous offer.
“...O-okay.”
Hoseok had been there that day too, bubbly and bouncy, taking his leave not long after Jungkook had sat down so he could meet up with the dance teacher, and looking at him now, the only thing that was really different was his dyed hair, no longer dark like in school, now a brilliant platinum blonde.
But it was that day in school that Jungkook met Yoongi, and it had flipped his entire world on its head.
“Hey, who's the kid?”
Yoongi was… indescribable.
Choppy red hair, ears littered with silver piercings, and his uniform was disheveled, tie pulled loose around an unbuttoned collar, paired well with a blazer that somehow looked more punk rock than uniform.
Soft, aggressive eyes stared into him that day, doll lips pouted and pink, and even reflecting many years later, Jungkook could never forget the way long lashes fluttered as he watched Jungkook.
“This is JK,” Jimin introduced, Jungkook trying not to choke on the food Namjoon had given him. “He’s new. First year.”
“Are we adopting now?”
Humiliation had set Jungkook’s stomach on fire, almost had him wanting to cry.
“Don’t be mean Yoongi – He hasn’t made any friends yet, so we’re gonna take care of him.”
“Bleeding hearts,” Yoongi had scoffed, rolling his eyes, the sunlight catching the dangling chains of his piercings and Jungkook felt his heart skip a million beats. “But whatever… Welcome to hell, kid.”
Yoongi left, taking Jungkook’s breath with him, and Jimin wrapped an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, rolling his own eyes as Jungkook tried to figure out why his stomach felt so hot.
“Don’t mind him, Yoongi’s kinda a dick – He’s always in a bad mood. Usually because of grades, he’s been held back like… four times or something.”
“He’s been held back once, Jimin, don’t tell lies.”
“Whatever, he’s still mean.”
“Cut him some slack, he got dumped yesterday. You know he really liked that guy too.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Mm.”
Wait–
“Like… a b-boyfriend?” Jungkook asked before even thinking properly, all eyes back on him, half of Namjoon’s sandwich still held between shaking hands.
“Yeah,” Jimin grinned, pinching Jungkook’s round, flushed cheeks. “Yoongi hyung is a serial dater. New boyfriend every week, almost.”
And that’s when Jungkook decided then and there, that he was going to do whatever he could, to make sure he would end up as Yoongi’s boyfriend too.
Last boyfriend.
Only boyfriend for the rest of their lives, because it was love at first sight and Jungkook had watched far too many romance movies.
The plan was to tell Yoongi at the end of the year, that Jungkook had fallen in love with him.
Roses, chocolates, the works on Yoongi’s last day because Yoongi was going to be graduating this year, and Jungkook thought it would be perfect.
Yoongi will say yes, because he’s been so nice to me in my first year of highschool, waited with me for the bus to make sure I’d get home safe, helped me with homework, bought me chocolate milk from the vending machine on days where I was feeling sad.
He’ll say yes.
And we can be boyfriends and I’ll never dump him like everyone else does.
But the last day of school came for Yoongi and when Jungkook had surprised him with flowers and sweets that he’d bought with money stolen from his Mom’s purse, Yoongi’s face had curdled into something strange, a mixture of horror, confusion, finally reaching disgust as Jungkook confessed his love.
“No,” his hyung had said, nose wrinkled, sneering as if ready to burst into laughter. “Jungkook, is this a joke?”
Back then, Yoongi had been taller than Jungkook was, and Jungkook cowered in the shadow of his upset hyung.
“N-n-no?”
Yoongi didn’t take the flowers.
Didn’t take the chocolates.
Just stood there in all his beautiful glory, and stared Jungkook down like he was insane.
“You’re just a kid,” the words were like knives, pressed between ribs and up into Jungkook’s pounding heart. “You’re a fucking kid , Jungkook, why the fuck would I date you?”
No.
“Yoongi hyung, I’m not, I c-can be a good boyfriend–”
“You are ,” Yoongi looked bewildered, eyes wide and shaking his head, going for the kill. “Just a skinny, boring kid .”
I am?
B-but–
“But… I love y-you.”
“You picked the wrong person to love, then,” and Yoongi’s eyes had been sharp, serious, the sunlight catching in his coloured hair. “Thinking anything other than heartbreak would come from this confession just proves what a child you are.”
And that was the last time Jungkook had ever seen Yoongi, turning on his heels and fleeing with tears streaking down his face, chocolates and flowers abandoned somewhere far away as Jungkook sobbed and let his heart fracture into sharp, angry pieces.
Jungkook never told anyone about it, and coming back to school for his second year after the holidays showed Jungkook that Yoongi hadn’t told anyone else either, Namjoon and Jimin and Taehyung never mentioning it, only talking about their graduated hyung with an air of mystery and loss.
“Did you hear? Yoongi moved to the US with his family – some sort of work deal for his Dad.”
“Oh wow, that’s crazy, no wonder he’s been so hard to contact recently.”
“He’s gonna struggle so much, his English is shit.”
“That’s mean, Jimin.”
“It’s true though!”
And then Namjoon graduated along with their fleeting table visitor Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung after that, and Jungkook saw his final year out alone, average grades, average friends, average life, hiding all his pain beneath school work.
He missed Yoongi but he also hated Yoongi, and as he grew up and grew into the adult world, the way he felt about Yoongi changed too, his revenge fantasies of Yoongi crying and saying sorry to poor schoolboy Jungkook turning horny and violent instead.
Got piercings and tattoos and experimented with his hair as a sort of homage to the boy who had been his first love and his first heartbreak, daydreaming about Yoongi’s return to Korea and bumping into each other in the streets, Yoongi saying sorry and then begging for dick in a dark, lonely alleyway, Jungkook fucking him up against brick walls.
Fantasies got more realistic when Jungkook found himself getting older and approached by pretty boys in the gym and clubs and streets, able to vent his anger into them instead, from behind and pretending they were his cruel hyung, watching his cock sink in and out of pale skin as he wondered what Yoongi looked like now.
Tanned and blonde, to fit in overseas?
Nah.
Redheaded still maybe, even more pierced, maybe with tattoos now that Yoongi would be old enough to get them?
It was possible.
And the wondering haunted Jungkook almost everyday for years until he realized he wasn’t happy, wasn’t healing, that what happened in school was hurtful and it was cruel, but in the end Yoongi had been kinda right.
I was just a kid.
Too young for him and not what Yoongi wanted, and being rejected was such an obvious outcome now, looking back on it all.
Sure, he didn’t have to be such an asshole about it.
But… that was why I loved him so much in the first place.
Thinking about Yoongi like this is never going to do me any good, no matter how fucking horny it is to jerk off over.
I gotta grow up, gotta move on.
It’s not like I’ll ever see him again anyways.
Yoongi being here, tonight, at Namjoon’s annual summer gathering, was not what Jungkook had expected at all, and especially not looking the way he did either, so different from everything Jungkook had ever thought about when he wrapped a hand around himself and thought about his unrequited love.
Adult Yoongi was… soft.
His hair was natural and fluffed around his round face with a light curl, his eyes and his lips and his button nose so familiar, but missing the trademark sneer that Yoongi had carried around in the school hallways, always worn as a threat.
Yoongi was in a sweater of baby blue wool and he looked so delicate in it, his hands still long and elegant, missing rings of silver that Jungkook used to imagine would feel so cold when he’d pin those hands above Yoongi’s head and split him open with his cock.
It felt unnatural.
Unusual.
And it was worse because Yoongi was blushing and glancing away every time their eyes wandered and held, and Jungkook wasn’t even sure if this was the Yoongi he’d loved all those years back at all.
That can’t be him.
It can’t be.
But it was and he was still just as beautiful, and all those fantasies Jungkook had and had tried to bury away in order to better himself were resurfacing, itching beneath his inked skin, making his trousers feel too tight.
Maybe I could fuck him.
Maybe I could get my revenge.
Yoongi was looking at him again.
God, maybe I could fuck him.
The house was nearby, a log cabin that belonged to Namjoon’s family, and Jungkook hadn’t planned to stay the night like he usually did, thinking it a wise idea especially if Yoongi was going to stay, listening to Hoseok and Namjoon chatter and get drunker, deciding it was time to play hard-to-get and let Yoongi make a move if that’s what the older boy wanted to do.
“Just gonna head inside for a bit,” Jungkook interrupted as Hoseok finally took a breath from his story to swallow back more beer, clapping Namjoon on the shoulder as he stood from the log seating. “Gotta make a call.”
“Don’t fall asleep on the couch,” Hoseok teased, red in the face, his hair gold in the firelight, giggling like a teenager, sending Jungkook a cheeky wink. “I already called dibs.”
“No more drinks for you, Hobi.”
“Shut up Namjoon – Bring me another beer on your way out, JK, pleaaaase?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I love him, what a good boy.”
“Oh my god.”
There was no call that needed to be made but Jungkook wanted some water and a chance to think, making his way through the grass and pebble pathway towards where the lights were on from the cabin porch, moths fluttering around them like night fairies. The door opened easily, Jungkook dusted his shoes on the welcome mat, and stepping inside made him sweat, so much warmer than the night air.
Water.
No more alcohol.
Can’t have me getting foolish.
Even from the kitchen, down the hallway and to the right, filling up a clean glass to drink from, Jungkook could hear the front door open, no longer alone in the cabin.
Thought maybe it was Hoseok, coming to fetch his own beer, or maybe even one of the others, ready to turn in for an early rest, but when Yoongi rounded the corner and hovered in the doorway, Jungkook felt his breath flee him once more.
Still just as beautiful.
Still making his stomach flip-flop and his heart race way too fast.
But time had taught Jungkook how to mask all that, and so he did, a small glance at the older boy, returning to his water, swallowing it all back as Yoongi played with the sleeve hems of his much too big sweater.
“Jungkook.”
Ah.
Yoongi’s voice remained the same, still a soft drawl, rasped and deep and suiting his new look less than his punk boy youth, but it still had Jungkook’s skin prickling, turning where he stood by the sink to face Yoongi front on.
Jungkook tilted his head almost mockingly, a mean idea flashing through his mind, words spilling out before he could stop them.
“Have we met before?”
Yoongi visibly swallowed, his entire face glowing pastel pink.
Hah.
Ha ha ha.
“Yeah, we… w-we went to school together.”
Narrowed his eyes as if trying to recall, feigning his confusion well.
“Ah, sorry. My memory’s not so great sometimes.”
Say it, Yoongi.
Say it.
Yoongi looked so small, so hunched inside the doorframe, swallowed up by his pretty sweater, glossy black hair so sweet as Yoongi tried his best to keep his head up.
“I was a few years above you. You uh… c-confessed to me when I graduated.”
“Oh,” Jungkook nodded, sipping back more water. “I remember now. Yoongi, right?”
Yoongi tensed, uncomfortable, as if he hadn’t expected Jungkook to brush him off like that so easily.
“Yeah.”
The sneer was hard to keep from his face, as Jungkook feigned ready to leave.
“I didn’t recognise you,” he washed out his glass, set it aside in a dish rack to dry, a light shrug, wiping his hands down on a nearby towel. “You look different with dark hair.”
“You look different too,” Yoongi took this as a conversation now, smiling, trying to appear upbeat despite the way he still held himself like he was nervous, and his smile hurt inside Jungkook’s chest, pretty teeth, pink gums, eyes bunching up cutely. “The uh, tattoos are… really cool.”
“Thanks.”
Yoongi didn’t want Jungkook to leave.
“Did they hurt?”
“Some,” Jungkook continued, not relaxing because he wanted Yoongi to reach his point with urgency, wanted his hyung to voice what he’d followed Jungkook inside to say. “But it wasn’t so bad.”
“I thought about getting one for a while,” Yoongi rambled, a light giggle, shifting on his pale sneakers as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. “But uh, I don’t think it would suit me much these days.”
The idea of Yoongi with a tattoo somewhere, hidden beneath his soft clothes and printed somewhere on milky skin had Jungkook’s stomach getting tight.
Oh, that would be so sexy.
“If you ever change your mind,” Jungkook’s mouth felt dry too, swallowing around his heavy tongue. “I can recommend some artists.”
“That’s very nice of you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook shrugged, wanting to actually leave now, because the small talk was making him uncomfortable.
“No worries. Nice seeing you again, Yoongi hyung.”
The hand on his arm, grabbing his wrist to stop him from walking past, made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.
Yoongi was so, so much smaller than Jungkook remembered.
On that day back in school, when Yoongi had broken his heart, his hyung had towered him by what must have been inches but had felt like miles, staring down at Jungkook like an insect in the dirt.
But Yoongi must not have grown since high school, at Jungkook’s shoulder, looking up as Jungkook paused in his stride, now the one staring down into wide, dark eyes.
“Wait.”
Yoongi’s hands were still big though.
Still long and pretty and Jungkook still wanted to pin them over Yoongi’s head.
“Wait for what, hyung?”
“I’m sorry,” the words Jungkook always wanted to hear were finally spilling out, Yoongi looking sad and yet relieved at the same time, as if they’d been hovering over his head like a guillotine too. “I am so, so sorry, for saying what I said back then. It… it wasn’t kind.”
“It was a long time ago,” Jungkook was surprising himself by how cool he was coming across, not smiling but appearing as if he didn’t harbor a grudge over it either, Yoongi’s hand so warm, his grip tight and not ready to let go. “And you were right, anyways.”
That had Yoongi freezing, swallowing, lips parting, almost confused.
“I was just a skinny, boring kid.”
Yoongi looked horrified, his words recalled so easily.
“I was an asshole,” Yoongi still had his hold, fingernails digging into the sleeves of Jungkook’s jacket. “And you were too young, a-and even if you were older, you–”
“I wasn’t your type, it’s all good,” Jungkook murmured, smirking, liking the way Yoongi squirmed beneath his gaze. “A little heartbreak is important sometimes.”
“I didn’t want to break your heart, JK.”
Now that, Jungkook wasn’t expecting.
Made him almost angry.
“But you did .”
You did.
You did it on purpose, don’t say that you didn’t.
“I was moving overseas,” Yoongi almost seemed exasperated, blinking, his eyelashes starting to get wet as if tears were getting caught in them. “Graduating, all these big things happening while trying to work through my shitty personality and the people it sucked in – and you were… just a kid.”
Nails dug through the fabric, pinching Jungkook’s arm.
“I wasn’t good for you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook winced.
“I wasn’t good for anyone .”
“You were cruel,” Jungkook hissed, narrowing his eyes, feeling his heart thrum, his blood searing beneath his skin. “You made me cry for months .”
“I’m sorry–”
“I looked up to you, I wanted to be you,” the words came out faster than he could stop them, carrying poison with his spite, crowding Yoongi up against the doorframe as his hyung shrank into himself like a scared animal. “I know I was just a kid but I poured my heart out for you – I was never going to be able to give you what you needed, I was never going to be someone you wanted to date… But you broke my fucking heart Yoongi, and you did it on purpose .”
Yoongi was silent, Jungkook almost panting in his anger, chest heaving just inches from Yoongi’s face, and he wanted to kiss Yoongi, wanted to yell at him, wanted to make him understand to the full extent what his rejection had done.
You hurt me.
Yoongi let go of his arm, and said something that had Jungkook flinching away.
“Then… you should get revenge.”
… W-what?
Revenge?
It seemed insane for Yoongi to even say that, and yet felt oddly in character too, Jungkook having flashbacks to school, to his angry, wild hyung, the boy he’d adored so much.
It was… such a Yoongi thing to say.
Still, Jungkook was at a loss for a retort.
“I… don’t understand–”
“Someone broke my heart once,” Yoongi’s eyes started to sparkle a little, telling his story with a weird sort of pride. “And it hurt so bad and I was angry, didn’t know what else to do – So I sought revenge, and it made me feel better. Helped me move on.”
“What did you do?”
“I slashed his car tires with a kitchen knife, and signed his phone number and email up to anything I could find that would spam him relentlessly.”
Jungkook felt his cock twitch.
Fuck, that was hot.
Crazy, but hot.
“That’s… pretty wild for a high school student.”
“Actually, this uh… was kinda recent.”
This Yoongi?
Soft, blue sweatered, pink faced, pretty Yoongi?
Insane.
“And we’re not even in the same country anymore,” the small curl to Yoongi’s doll lips was giving Jungkook a hot flush, frozen where he stood, praying his dick wasn’t visibly betraying him. “So whatever he has planned for his own revenge… I’m sure it’ll never find me.”
“That’s evil.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi looked unphased, still staring up with cute, wide eyes. “I guess it is.”
“Do you regret it?”
Yoongi swallowed loudly, and Jungkook felt his eyes trace the curve of Yoongi’s milky throat.
“Would you?”
Revenge on Yoongi.
In his mind, it had never been as… intense as the things Yoongi claimed to have done.
Not as spiteful in that sense, not as… permanently damaging.
Jungkook couldn’t even blame the beer on his honesty, his curiosity too great, saying what he was thinking, needing Yoongi’s reaction.
If he’s shocked and disgusted, so be it.
You’ve rejected me once before, and I don’t really care this time.
“I’d probably regret slashing your tires – but that sort of revenge fantasy has never crossed my mind.”
“No?”
Yoongi’s lashes were long, fluttering, biting gently on his lower lip, and Jungkook couldn’t tell if he hated him or loved him.
Honest.
Yeah.
Why not?
“They were more along the lines of fucking you, actually.”
The flush across Yoongi’s cheeks had Jungkook feeling breathless.
Pink, sweet, could have been perceived as innocent if Yoongi hadn’t just told Jungkook he’d slashed some guy’s fucking tires, and Jungkook stepped closer, just a little closer, watching Yoongi’s chest rise and fall beneath his fluffy little sweater.
“That… d-doesn’t sound like revenge.”
“It could be.”
The older boy let out a breathy, nervous laugh.
“Having sex with you? People probably fight for that privilege. I’m sure you’re, uh… aware of how attractive you are these days.”
“Maybe,” Jungkook just shrugged, leaning closer, closer, pressing an arm above Yoongi’s head, trapped in from every angle as Yoongi tried to keep his gaze from bulging biceps. “But, that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to pin you down and make you cry, hyung.”
The pause was heavy in the air, sticky and full of tension, strung between them like spider webs.
“... Only wanted?”
Hah.
“I’m not really a vengeful person anymore.”
“You should be,” Yoongi retorted fast, words almost slurred, pupils swollen and black inside the lonely kitchen doorway. “Vengeance is fun.”
Jungkook smiled, tilting his head.
“Kinda sounds like you want me to take my revenge.”
“I hurt you,” Yoongi’s voice was rasped, his body arching slightly, almost like he wanted Jungkook to touch him. “You deserve to hurt me back.”
“I deserve it,” Jungkook echoed with mockery, closer, closer, tilting his hips until he was pinning Yoongi against the wooden door frame.
“You do.”
Yoongi was hard, trembling, his slim thighs spreading apart in his skinny jeans, letting Jungkook slot them even closer.
“I think you just wanna fuck, Yoongi hyung.”
The laugh was cute, nervous, Yoongi looking up at Jungkook from beneath wavy dark hair.
“You might be right, but… Something about the idea of you inside me while making me apologize… I feel like it would be a wasted opportunity if we didn’t fuck, y’know?”
God fucking damn it.
Their first kiss was searing, Yoongi gasping, up on his tiptoes, big hands pulling into Jungkook’s shirt as Jungkook cupped his jaw and licked deep into his pink mouth.
It was broken by Yoongi’s surprised whimper, Jungkook grinding their bodies together to feel how hard the older boy was, his hands traveling from Yoongi’s face to his throat, squeezing gently, moving back in for a glorious second kiss.
Yoongi’s lips were a dream, heaven, plush and giving and not too dry, opening with ease for Jungkook to suck at, their tongues brushing together playfully, Yoongi’s hands doing something frantic between where their groins met.
The first thought was that Yoongi had a knife and was going to slash Jungkook the way Yoongi had slashed those car tires, but instead of sharp pain, Jungkook felt his belt being unbuckled, Yoongi chasing more kisses, moving so eagerly for someone dressed so sweet.
Between his hyung’s newer appearance and the slight edge of insanity hiding beneath it all, Jungkook was hornier than he’d ever been in his fucking life, kissing like a man possessed, touching Yoongi with the sort of violence he’d always dreamed he could use.
Squeezed at Yoongi’s waist, at his hips and slammed him back against the door frame, swallowed all his tiny mewls as Yoongi’s hand slipped past his open jean zipper, the elastic of his briefs, sliding down to palm against his hard cock, Jungkook groaning loudly.
Fuck.
Such big hands–
“Jungkook, I’m so sorry.”
Confusion and then remembrance.
Oh, that’s right.
This isn’t a normal makeout session.
This is meant to be revenge.
“You should be,” he found himself almost hissing back, Yoongi’s hand wrapped tight around his aching length, sinking fingertips in the soft flesh of Yoongi’s hips. “You should be begging for this cock after what you said to me.”
“I am, I’ll beg,” Yoongi dragged his hand up and back awkwardly, his movements impeded by denim jeans as he did his best, strawberry lips wide and wet, wanting more kisses. “You’re so hot, Jungkook, I regret it so much –”
“Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry–”
“Beg for forgiveness.”
“Forgive me,” Yoongi’s kisses were scattered and wet, lips wide, trying to shove Jungkook’s jeans even further down his legs, fingertips pressing down beneath Jungkook’s balls, cupping them gently as Jungkook hissed and sighed. “I’m so sorry, I was so dumb , s-so mean, I’ll make it up to you, I’ll do whatever you want me to do–”
Whether it was some kind of warped role play or not, Jungkook wasn’t sure, but he didn’t care, was too aroused to even think straight, diving back in to kiss desperately, letting Yoongi play with his cock until he was so hard it hurt.
Might as well see how much stock Yoongi’s putting into his promises.
“I wanna fuck your mouth.”
Yoongi’s blush was bright and perfect, but he nodded and nodded and left Jungkook with one last kiss, before dropping to his knees and opening his lips wide.
With Yoongi’s mouth around his cock, Jungkook completely forgot that they were in the kitchen, in the open doorway with the chance of anyone walking in and seeing, but that somehow made it better, made his blood pulse and sing and race, and with his hands locked into Yoongi’s hair, he kinda hoped someone would.
Come and see Yoongi hyung, everyone.
Watch him take my dick like a good boy, watch him work off the heartbreak he caused me.
Jesus, he’s… really good at this–
It was like Yoongi lacked a gag reflex entirely, tears in his lashes but barely gagging as Jungkook felt his cock slide down the tight heat of Yoongi’s throat, tongue cushioning the underside of his length as he pushed in and out, getting annoyed that Yoongi didn’t seem to be challenged at all.
That’s not fair.
This is supposed to be revenge.
It was probably mean to fuck Yoongi’s face so violently, but Yoongi didn’t tap at him to stop, didn’t fight the way Jungkook pulled into his midnight curls, didn’t do anything but try to relax his jaw as he let Jungkook use him, muffled gasps and wet, choked gags caught behind his teeth.
Anyone could walk in.
Jungkook felt invincible.
He wanted to say more, wanted to tease more, wanted to know if Yoongi would cry or preen under the degradation, but the front door opening with a soft click had Jungkook frozen on the spot, yanking Yoongi back, drool spilling to the floorboards.
Shit.
“Hide,” he hissed, tugging Yoongi up by the arm, his hyung looking glazed over and totally fucked out, lips swollen and red, Jungkook wanting to bite at them again. “Quick–”
Being spotted like this… wouldn’t be great.
Dick out, Yoongi looking far too innocent in his stupid goddamn sweater, and Jungkook didn’t want to explain what was going on, didn’t want to face Namjoon and his disappointment over defiling his family holiday home after only being here a mere few hours.
It wasn’t the safest spot to hide but it was all they had, Jungkook shoving Yoongi into the nearby pantry, barely stocked and barely enough space for the two of them, closing the door as quietly as possible as someone walked up the hallway towards them.
Slow, staggered footsteps.
Ah, it’s probably a very tipsy Hoseok.
That’s not as dangerous as Namjoon or Jimin.
Maybe.
Still, Jungkook held his breath anyway.
Yoongi’s eyes glittered in the dark with mischief though and that had Jungkook on edge, his cock wet and exposed and starting to get cold, wondering if he could reach down and zip himself back up, choking back a gasp when Yoongi’s hand wrapped back around his length.
Footsteps.
Closer.
It was impossible to back away from Yoongi’s touch.
Shit.
His hips bucked into Yoongi’s tight palm, wet with spit still and starting to get sticky with precum, and he couldn’t stop, didn’t want this to stop, not even with someone stumbling up the hallway and towards them, Jungkook staring through the tiny slats of the door and praying to god it was drunk Hoseok.
I don’t want to come yet.
I still wanna fuck Yoongi.
The peek of platinum hair around the corner had Jungkook almost letting out a loud sigh in relief, Hoseok fucked up, groggy and holding the door frame for stability, shuffling his way past the shiny spot on the floor where Yoongi had drooled, staggering over to the sink as Yoongi’s hand worked magic on Jungkook’s cock.
Oh no, I might come.
Please, Yoongi hyung, don’t make me come if Hoseok’s going to throw up in the sink.
But Hoseok hovered there instead, humming, filling up a glass with water, swallowing it back, humming, more and more water, and Jungkook’s gaze flicked between Hoseok and Yoongi, nervous and thrilled, Yoongi’s cheeky little smile making this feel like a game.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered again, quiet but maybe loud enough to for Hoseok to hear if he wasn’t so inebriated, the words catching Jungkook by surprise, swallowing back his groans as Yoongi dragged his slick palm across Jungkook’s sensitive tip. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Jungkook, you know I’m so sorry, don’t you?”
He sounded insane.
Looked cute, slightly unhinged, and Jungkook wanted to break him.
“Be quiet,” Jungkook whispered back, leaning in, caging Yoongi into the empty shelves, trying not to fuck himself too violently into Yoongi’s hand. “Hobi hyung might find us.”
“I don’t mind,” Yoongi replied, voice rasped and low, stained with lust and a hint of amusement. “I only care about you right now.”
The lovestruck child that still resided somewhere inside Jungkook was jumping for joy, like this was a confession, the very thing he’d always wanted to hear, more than the apologies, more than the dirty words and the begging for Jungkook to make him feel good.
Yoongi hyung cares.
He only cares about me.
Kissing Yoongi again was the only way to stop that train of thought from going somewhere romantic, so Jungkook kissed him deeply and kissed him quietly, Yoongi’s soft mewls muffled, his hand ceasing it’s work, and Hoseok was still guzzling water like he was dying, Jungkook getting zoned out as Yoongi’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheek.
This was nothing like frantic kisses and handjobs and blowjobs at bars, in back alleys with people all around who sometimes watched but mostly ignored him, being confined to this small cupboard with Yoongi, so quiet and so careful, trying to avoid the attention of Hoseok outside.
This was scary, fun, dangerous and exhilarating, and Yoongi’s mouth was hot and wet and Jungkook needed to be inside him soon or he was going to lose his mind.
“I need to fuck you,” he murmured against Yoongi’s tongue, trying not to sound too desperate, still wanting this to be the revenge fuck of his wildest dreams. “When Hoseok leaves, I’m going to fuck you so hard .”
“We should go outside then,” Yoongi replied between soft presses of doll lips, thankfully no longer touching Jungkook’s cock, slotting their bodies together instead and running his fingers up the ink of Jungkook’s arm. “So I can beg for you loudly.”
That was a nice idea.
Yoongi’s voice, high pitched and needy, trying to make up for Jungkook’s broken heart by sating Jungkook’s lust instead.
Outside was good.
If Hoseok would ever leave.
Hoseok’s face was red and his blinks were lazy and slow when he finally started to move away from the sink, staggering, laughing to himself, one foot in front of the other, and when he stumbled and banged right into the pantry door, Jungkook swore he almost blacked out in panic.
Leave.
Fuck, Hoseok, leave.
But he lingered against the door, breathing heavily and giggling to himself, and Yoongi looked almost feral, squeezing Jungkook’s cock once more, pearly teeth peeking out from strawberry lips as the older boy smiled sweetly.
How Jungkook refrained from gasping, he didn’t know.
Shit, Yoongi really doesn’t care if someone sees, does he?
It was kinda like high school Yoongi, who didn’t care if he got detention for skipping classes, who didn’t care if he was caught smoking in the bathrooms, who didn’t care about homework and studying, as long as he was doing what he wanted.
He wants me.
Finally, he wants me.
It was pathetic, but Jungkook felt… happy.
Even if this was just going to be a one-off, weird, superficial encounter with someone who was practically a stranger now.
Whatever.
It didn’t take much longer for Hoseok to finally find his way back out of the kitchen, and this was the moment, the door opening, Jungkook tucking himself back into his pants but not zipping them up, Yoongi taking his hand and dragging him out, pulling him down the hallway towards the back of the house.
The bathroom was a quick stop, Jungkook a panting mess as he watched Yoongi raid the drawers for lube, condoms, the pink on his skin practically glowing in the dark.
“You knew there’d be lube in here?”
“Yes,” Yoongi said with a tilt to his lips, grabbing Jungkook by his loose belt, tugging him towards the back door like a dog on a leash. “I did.”
“How?”
“It’s Namjoon’s place,” it sounded to matter-of-fact, the wooden door opening with a mild groan of wood and metal, the air cold but fresh, stars glittering in the sky like fairy lights. “He brings all his fucks here – something about the woods gets people in the mood.”
A slight flair of envy.
Jungkook didn’t want to know, but asked anyway.
“Were you one of them?”
A snort, Yoongi throwing a coy look over his shoulder.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook was going to engrave himself into Yoongi’s body for life, grabbing at his hips, pulling his ass back against his open jeans, stopping them in their tracks, surrounded by trees and grass. “I hope you weren’t.”
“Jealous?”
Yes.
“Namjoon hyung knew I liked you,” Jungkook growled, up against the shell of Yoongi’s pierced ear. “So I might feel even more broken hearted if it turned out he betrayed me as well.”
“Namjoon never fucked me,” Yoongi replied, swallowing loudly, Jungkook letting his hands snake beneath the fuzzy hem of Yoongi’s sweater. “But I would have let him if he’d wanted it.”
Looking back, maybe Yoongi did look at Namjoon a certain way.
Acted out a little more in front of him, put on a bit more of an attitude.
Even in school, Namjoon was bigger than them all.
Like a man.
Not a skinny, boring kid.
Jungkook almost snarled.
“Why did I ever like you?”
“I don’t know,” Yoongi murmured back, a hint of mockery, a hint of sadness. “But you picked the wrong person to crush on.”
I didn’t have a choice.
It happened before I knew what was going on.
“Namjoon would have let you down gently,” Yoongi continued, his ass still perky and pressed against Jungkook’s strained crotch. “Jimin and Taehyung, they’d have entertained your confessions, maybe would have said yes, maybe would have held your hand and been your first hugs and kisses.”
Maybe.
But it didn’t work out like that.
“Even Hoseok and Seokjin would have been a better choice than me,” Yoongi laughed, craning his neck, looking back over his shoulder, Jungkook watching his eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings. “And they didn’t even know who the fuck you were.”
There was a tremble in Yoongi’s limbs that didn’t go unnoticed.
A heave in his chest, a shudder in his breathing.
Yoongi truly felt bad.
And as much as Jungkook had always dreamed of this moment, of Yoongi crying and crumbling beneath the weight of Jungkook’s heavy, shattered heart, this wasn’t it.
Didn’t feel good, didn’t feel right.
“But I fell in love with you,” he whispered back instead, against the crown of Yoongi’s curly dark hair. “Because of who you were.”
The heartbreak was a long time ago.
It didn’t really matter that much now anyway.
“Mean but so pretty, the hyung that did and said whatever he wanted,” Jungkook continued, and Yoongi was stiff in his arms, this talk far too serious for what was supposed to be a hot-and-heavy romp, but the words were coming just like the last time he’d confessed, and nothing was going to stop them. “My confession to you was a fucking mistake, but… I didn’t pick the wrong person to crush on, Yoongi.”
The silence was thick, and Jungkook’s hands retreated from Yoongi’s soft skin, back out from beneath his sweater, holding him close with an almost-hug instead.
The cold stung like insect bites, and Yoongi finally spoke.
“Why are you still so sweet?”
“I’m not,” because it was true and it made Jungkook laugh, kissing softly at Yoongi’s nape. “I’m just telling the truth, like you did, all the way back then.”
“My truth was hurtful.”
“Yes… but it was still the truth.”
Yoongi let out a light chuckle.
“I guess we’re uh… not going to be having hot, nasty, vengeance-fuelled sex in the woods anymore, are we?”
That made Jungkook smile.
“What, don’t wanna fuck me anymore because I was being sweet? Wow, hyung, I’m so heartbroken .”
When Yoongi spun in his arms to face him, he was grinning, eyes soft and cheeky, everything shadowed by the moonlight and midnight curls.
“Heartbroken? This definitely calls for some revenge.”
It didn’t take much, a few more kisses and Yoongi gasping out a ‘ fuck me soon or I’m gonna cry ’ against Jungkook’s lip ring to have Jungkook ripping Yoongi’s belt out of it’s loops, tearing his jeans down to bunch around his knees, the packet of lube in hand and ready to be split open, Jungkook feeling frantic as he took in the sight of white, creamy skin.
Thighs, ass, small and pale and perfect, and when Jungkook gave him a light slap, everything jiggled teasingly.
Yoongi hissed when cold lube was dribbled down his crease, braced himself against a tree trunk and whined prettily when fingers sank inside him, and there were no words being exchanged as they focused on preparation, Jungkook hunched over Yoongi and kissing the back of his neck, two fingers to three, stretching his hyung gently.
This was far too sweet for all their earlier talks and plans, but it didn’t seem as appealing for Yoongi to be hurt and in tears anymore, wanting this to be as good as possible for both of them instead, just in case this was it, never to see each other again for the rest of their days.
The grudge has lasted long enough – let’s just make this fun.
“Stop,” Yoongi finally begged, his voice cracking, spine curved, milky skin covered in goosebumps as he pulled his ass away from Jungkook’s unrelenting fingers. “Let’s fuck, no more prep, can’t take anymore–”
The condom wrapper was ripped apart with wet fingers, rolled down his own aching length with haste, and Jungkook pulled Yoongi away from the tree by his arm, pinning it to his back, kissing him once more before slipping deep inside Yoongi’s tight little body.
Yoongi sobbed, tensed up, would have collapsed if Jungkook’s free hand hadn’t wrapped around his chest to keep him upright, and the sound was heavenly and loud, echoing in the small woodland clearing, maybe making it back to the campfire, neither boy caring at all.
“ Fuck ,” Yoongi’s eyes were wet, glittery, cheeks pink and lips parted wide, and his ass was like a vice, sucking Jungkook in even further, greedy and hungry for his cock, like it was never going to let him go. “Oh my god, ah, J-Jungkook–”
It was better than all the revenge fantasies.
Better than any dream.
Yoongi looking at him like this, blissed out and brows furrowed, stuffed with his cock and whining, and Jungkook didn’t move yet, just held him close and let them both adjust, panting into one another loudly.
The silence was broken when Yoongi started to grind his hips though, like he was ready and wanted more, Jungkook gasping and trying to keep as composed as possible, glancing down to see where they were joined.
Fuck, I’m really inside him.
It’s really happening.
“Get your revenge,” the whisper broke him from the trance of staring at Yoongi’s ass split wide around his cock, pulled back up to look at his hyung, seeing lust and mischief hiding behind black, blown pupils. “Fuck me like you wanted–”
Yoongi still wanted to play.
Hah.
Okay.
I’ll fuck you like I wanted, then.
Pulled Yoongi’s arm back, stretched him like a bow string and railed him violently, and Yoongi squealed in surprise from it, his free hand against tree bark just to keep some stability, knees shaking and knocking together, the metal of his belt jingling loudly in the night air.
Tears were spilling too, like streaks of silver down rosy cheeks, and this made Jungkook sneer, happy and feeling so powerful, a hand slipping up beneath that adorable sweater, roughly thumbing over a perky nipple.
Yoongi keened loudly.
Jungkook laughed against his ear.
“Yeah? You like that, hyung?”
Yoongi’s nod was small, weak, a tear dripping from his chin, lips parted wide as he moaned beneath his ragged breath.
“Y-yes, like it–”
Cute.
“Feeling regret?”
“Yes,” Yoongi slurred, whimpering as tattooed fingers squeezed the softness of his chest possessively. “So much, I w-was dumb, please forgive me–”
The way Yoongi was slamming his hips back against Jungkook’s cock was maddening, hot, tight, the lube squelching and gleaming in the moonlight, and this wasn’t going to be able to last much longer, not with Yoongi saying things like this, not with the sounds spilling out of his mouth.
“Could have been getting this dick for years if you’d just been nicer,” and Jungkook didn’t really mean that but if felt fun to say anyways, like if Yoongi hadn’t have moved, had let Jungkook confess again on Jungkook’s graduation day, they’d have been able to do this much, much sooner. “Better late than never though, right?”
“You’re r-right,” Yoongi mewled, ass clenching, his head lolling back, up on his tiptoes, entire body seizing tight. “Fuck, fuck , I’m gonna come–”
“Yeah?” Jungkook knew not to pick up the pace, not to race through to their orgasms, keeping his thrusts stable and controlled, Yoongi squirming and panting and ready to cry. “Then do it.”
“Touch me,” the older boy begged, almost growling, his tear-stained skin the prettiest sight in the world.
“No,” Jungkook nipped at his earring, taking Yoongi’s hands and holding them so not even Yoongi could touch himself. “You wanted forgiveness, didn’t you, hyung? Come untouched for me, and I’ll forgive you for everything.”
“Don’t stop then,” the begging was frantic, needy, Yoongi’s tone high and absolutely fucked out. “Don’t stop, just like t-that, ah, oh my god, oh my god –”
If Jungkook hadn’t been as fast as he was, Yoongi’s loud wailing when he finally came would have been heard by the rest of the country.
It was cut off quickly by a hand clamped across his mouth though, hunching over Yoongi and muffling his cries into the palm of his hand, Yoongi’s mess splattering across the tree, the grass, a few drops on Jungkook’s shoe, and it was enough, too much, sending Jungkook over the edge himself.
Sharp, hurried pumps of his hips and he was spilling his load into the condom with a guttural groan, huffing into Yoongi’s sweat-damp hair, kissing the back of his burning neck, pulling his hand away as Yoongi shivered and did his best not to collapse.
Insects chirped from somewhere nearby, and in the distance, Jungkook could hear muted laughter, the campfire most likely still roaring, everyone sharing drinks and stories and having fun as Jungkook’s soft cock slipped out of Yoongi’s shaking body.
Yoongi was saying nothing, just breathing, his baby blue sweater rising and falling with every inhale, not daring to move or turn around, and Jungkook understood why.
This was awkward now.
They were basically strangers and they’d fucked about in this weird little roleplay world, and now reality was back and they were still there, entangled together in the woods, neither knowing what to do.
Well, Jungkook knew what he wanted to do.
But, it seemed so scary to ask again.
Sigh.
Let’s just… try.
One more time.
“Yoongi hyung… can… can I take you on a date?”
Silence.
Yoongi was stiff as a statue, not moving, barely breathing, the hint of his plush little ass peeking out beneath the hem of his cute sweater.
A tilt of his head finally, and Yoongi was glancing over his shoulder with wide eyes.
“Jungkook… is this a joke?”
Oh no.
I could just say yes.
Pretend it is.
No more heartbreak for me.
“No,” he kept his resolve though, swallowing loudly, still holding Yoongi gently, wondering if his hyung would step away and laugh. “It’s not a joke.”
Another pause.
More silence.
Jimin’s loud, drunken laughter in the distance.
Shit.
“You… really forgive me that much?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook reiterated, nodding, pulling his jeans back up cold legs awkwardly. “I do.”
When Yoongi turned around to face him front on, Jungkook could see the tears in his eyes, real ones, proper tears, threatening to spill down and leave behind more moonlit trails.
“Don’t cry, hyung.”
“I feel so bad.”
“No.”
“I made so many mistakes.”
“It’s okay.”
Yoongi sniffled and his nose was so pink and sweet, and when sweaterpaws reached up to wipe at his eyes, Jungkook swore Yoongi was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Then… if it’s really okay,” the answer finally came, along with a soft, gummy smile, with creased eyes and fluttering lashes, Jungkook taking Yoongi back into his arms to shower with gentle kisses. “I’d like to go on a date with you – You’ve been waiting long enough.”
“I really have.”
“I’ll pay.”
“No.”
“Yes~”
A quick bathroom clean up and slipping their way past a sleeping Hoseok on the couch, and everyone was too enthralled in their loud stories to even realize Jungkook and Yoongi were back outside with them, seated on the carved out logs, smiling and sharing mischievous looks whenever their gazes caught one another.
Jimin was the first to notice, pointing at them, squinting, pink in the face and absolutely fucking trashed.
“Hey, have you two always been here? I swear you weren’t here a moment ago.”
“Of course we were,” Yoongi’s lies rolled off his tongue so easily, so cute as he folded his arms, tilting his head as Jimin blinked and blinked and blinked. “Are you that drunk, Jiminie?”
“They were,” Taehyung joined in, pressed into Jimin’s side and slurring, an empty beer bottle in his hand. “I saw them, Yoongi hyung was telling us a story.”
“Was he?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh… Man, I must be fucked up right now.”
“Yesshhh.”
“Were you planning on staying the night?” Yoongi whispered to Jungkook, as the embers of the fire got low, and talks of retreating inside started to happen.
“I wasn’t, actually.”
“Oh, shame.”
“But… I can?”
“My room has a double bed.”
“... I can stay.”
“Perfect.”
Namjoon pulling Jungkook aside as everyone made their way into the cabin had every inch of skin crawling with fear, and Namjoon knew, always so smart and he knew, eyes narrowed beneath his spectacles, Jungkook trying to appear nonchalant and calm.
Silence.
Namjoon wasn’t drunk enough for Jungkook to escape whatever this was.
More silence.
Namjoon waited patiently.
Jungkook couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I had sex with Yoongi hyung.”
Namjoon sighed, closing his eyes.
“Please tell me you cleaned up afterwards.”
“We did it outside.”
“What? There are bugs out here, Kook.”
“...”
“Also, Yoongi hyung is insane – Be careful with him, alright? I heard his last boyfriend ended up with a destroyed car.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“God, and you still slept with him?”
Jungkook glanced away, Namjoon looking utterly exasperated.
“You’re both psycho.”
“Can I stay the night?”
“Of course you can, but , you cannot fuck in these beds. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yes, hyung.”
“Jungkook, I’m serious!”
“Okay!”
Yoongi waiting for him, splayed out on the bed in the spare room, grinning and lifting up the hem of his sweater had Jungkook seeing hearts and stars, cursing Namjoon’s words, kissing his hyung wildly.
“I think I need to have you again,” the words were laughed against Jungkook’s mouth, big hands tearing Jungkook from his jacket, squeezing hard at tattooed biceps. “Think I want to fall asleep with you inside me, Jungkook.”
“Namjoon hyung said we can’t fuck in these beds.”
A jingle, a flash of silver, and once again Jungkook wondered if Yoongi would slash him like car tires.
But it was only keys and keychains, a small wooden tree and a rubber Ryan charm.
Uh oh.
Namjoon’s car keys.
Oh my god.
“Did he say anything about fucking in his car?”
“Where did you get those??”
“Swiped them from the kitchen counter… I’ll return them before he notices~”
“Fuck, Yoongi, you’re so… fucking hot , Jesus–”
One last, wet kiss, and Yoongi linked their hands together, pulling him up from the mattress, Jungkook breathless, not sure if Yoongi was something he was meant to survive.
“Let’s go have some fun.”
Cute, slightly unhinged, and Jungkook’s chest was tight with adoration.
Oh no.
Fuck.
It’s happening.
I’m falling in love with Yoongi, all over again.
… Shit .