Chapter Text
Jungkook sat on his bed, hands clenched together. He could feel them turn moist with anticipation. Only Jimin could make him feel so out of his element.
It wasn’t difficult for him to imagine his quiet advance, his attempt to make his way to his room unbeknownst to the other servants. His straight dark locks fell around the soft oval-shaped face, obscuring his crescent eyes. Jimin’s plain dark servant’s robes made him blend in with the dimly lit manor halls as he hurriedly, yet hesitantly, drew closer to Jungkook’s room. But try as he might, he could never go unnoticed in Jungkook’s presence. He felt so attuned to him that Jungkook could lose all his senses and still feel him near like a burning flame.
Not surprisingly, he heard Jimin’s light steps long before he lingered silently at the threshold of his quarters. Jungkook was both eager to see him as well as afraid -- fear was not something he was accustomed to feeling on a personal level. Not that he wasn’t well aware of the way its energy tasted and the sensation it brought others. On that subject, he was intimately educated.
Jungkook jumped up from his bed quickly. Adrenaline was coursing suddenly throughout his body. He ran his fingers through his slightly long and wavy espresso-brown hair with a quick gesture and brushed the wrinkles from his clothes. He didn’t breathe as he waited for the sound of Jimin at his door.
The knock on the door seemed reluctant and soft, almost inaudible. As if Jimin wasn’t sure he really wanted his presence to be known.
“Prince Jungkook?” Jimin’s lilted voice called barely above a whisper.
The formalities, the hesitance, the fear Jungkook could hear in Jimin’s soft almost melodic voice gave him an instant twang of guilt.
“Please, come in,” Jungkook answered, attempting to keep his voice flat, emotionless, and regal -- free from the nervousness that was overwhelming him.
He opened the door quietly, his small fingers brushing the grain of the heavy wooden door so delicately, it looked like a caress. Of course, everything Jimin did looked particularly elegant to him. Jungkook felt quite certain he could clean a chamber pot and make it look like an art.
Jimin pushed against the heavy door earnestly making just enough of an opening for his slim figure to slip through.
He was a vision, even in his modest servant robes. So small -- he was almost childlike, but his beauty was anything but. Sensually plump pink lips, heavy-lidded dark eyes, high cheekbones yet adorably round cheeks, he somehow managed to encompass innocence and pure sexual charisma at once. His raven-colored straight locks were perpetually covering his eyes, like a shield. He appeared to be painfully self-conscious, although Jungkook couldn’t fathom why.
Even in a potato sack, Jimin could stir up the embers of his soul into a raging fire. His skin was pure silk. Jungkook could only imagine how he would feel to the touch. He hunched his petite shoulders, hugging his arms, and looked to the ground as if afraid of a lashing.
Jungkook winced inwardly. He was disgusted that Jimin lived in constant fear while Jungkook’s family treated him like a dog. He should be the one waited on hand and foot. He promised himself Jimin wouldn’t have to live like this forever.
Jimin shook his hair nervously and Jungkook smiled as his scent caressed his nostrils. Even from a distance, Jungkook could smell his fragrance but it was like no perfume. Completely his own and entirely specific to him, it was light and sweet like a berry of some kind, with hints of lavender, but currently tinged with the tangy electrical aroma of apprehension. Jimin smelled so intensely alive.
Jungkook found himself breathing him in almost subconsciously as though it was second nature for him. Which, in a lot of ways, it was.
It seemed like an eternity as Jungkook took it all in, but it had been only a few short moments since he entered the room. Time seemed to slow when Jimin was around, making Jungkook hyper-aware of his every detail.
Jungkook approached him slowly, his hands at his sides, each step slow and deliberate, as if dealing with an easily startled animal. Jungkook had a genuine smile on his face, his lips subconsciously parting enough to reveal the rather non-threatening roundness of his front teeth. Hoping Jimin could sense, in the same way that he did, that other meant him no harm.
To say that Jungkook could sense his anxiety was an understatement. It poured from him like tidal waves, but underneath, Jungkook sensed another energy. It was a warm tingling; an attraction that vibrated stronger the closer they came.
Jungkook let that knowledge reassure him. There had been moments before when he wasn’t sure that Jimin could feel anything for him. He didn’t know if this would go well. He had already decided not to get his hopes up. However, he allowed himself to calm significantly as he felt the subtle energies of magnetism flow toward him.
He forgot to breathe, Jimin was so absorbing. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he reached around Jimin’s huddled form with a long strong arm and shut the solid wooden door with one hand, briefly caging Jimin between himself and the door.
Jimin was a human servant, one of many employed by his family. To the rest of his family, servants were nothing more than tame livestock, that only lived so long as they served their purpose and were treated as such, much to his disgust. But Jimin was so much more. He was lovely and pure, with an inner light that was both fiery and soft, not to mention he was ridiculously sexy. Jungkook knew him so well, though Jungkook doubted Jimin had any idea.
They had a connection, something intangible but real. A draw—a pull like a tightening cord that linked them together, silent but powerful. As the days went on Jungkook felt its power grow, the tension of the cord getting tighter and tighter to the point that being away from him caused him physical distress. He was drawn to Jimin like a moth to a flame. Attracted to such an extent that it hurt. Jungkook needed for him to be his. In some ways, he sensed he already was. It was destiny. Jungkook would stake his soul on it.
The familiar buzz of power tingled within him, reminding him of the temptation to use his gifts on Jimin. Jungkook swallowed the sensation, burying it deep within. Much like the other feelings and instincts that came with his heritage.
His clan was powerful vampires, his direct line was descended from the first vampires. Of course, only the purest line had the power to rule their kind. But it was more like powers. Those who survived encounters with his kind were those who turned. The ‘gift’ left them with inhuman strength, thirst for blood, and immortality so long as they were well fed. A curse really.
However, the direct descendants born into vampirism were far more fortunate, if you could call it that, as their gifts come in many forms. Typically manifesting themselves in childhood, they gained strength and power until they transitioned in adulthood, where their power would surge exponentially with the introduction of their first taste of blood.
While a born vampire didn’t need blood to survive, they still craved it. It fueled and enhanced their natural gifts and was the key to the blood magic that gives immortality. Jungkook was an empath, with power of the mind. Mind reading, dream walking, and feeling emotion physically via energy. A person was a book simply waiting to be read to him.
It was a gift he never asked for, never wanted.
Hated in fact.
His self-loathing had only been gaining momentum since he first noticed Jimin. He had only begun to work for his family for the last few months, but in that short span, his presence had further reminded Jungkook that he was some kind of duplicitous monster, doomed to never be happy so long as he was chained to his vampiric heritage.
And while the humans in their employ were mercifully ignorant of his family’s true nature, there were of course rumors amongst the staff, who were never employed long. Jungkook shuddered at the thought of what was actually happening to them. A vampire estate fully staffed by unaware humans was perhaps one of his family's cruelest jokes.
But it wasn’t like they were entirely in the dark. Humans still had the instinctual ability to sense the wrongness of his family, some dormant sense left over from eons prior as a last-ditch effort of survival. But it was likely drowned out by the more punishing desperation of poverty and starvation. They seemingly ignored their basest instincts, finding work where they could, even when every alarm bell was ringing against the notion. The humans his family couldn’t charm or bewitch in a pinch were ‘dismissed,’ or at least that’s the story they were going with. Jungkook knew, of course, they were meeting a horrific end.
His family wasn’t evil, per se, it was more like an ambivalence to human life. It had been ingrained in him at an early age that they were above humans and even other vampires in every way. Jammed down his throat with fervor more like it, an effort to squash his empathy. To be a direct descendant meant that his entire family was at the top of the food chain and it was as simple as that. Yet Jungkook had always sensed the danger and corruption that came with his upbringing. The way his parents and younger brother were callous and dismissive of their cruelty was not lost on him.
Jimin interrupted him from his preoccupation with a slight movement. He tilted his chin up just enough to focus his eyes on Jungkook's broad chest. He seemed unwilling to look into his eyes directly. Whether it was out of servile submission, or simply because he was shy, Jungkook didn’t know.
“You summoned me?” he asked, his voice stronger than Jungkook expected, he could sense his need to not come across as weak.
Jungkook could still feel his fear, his eyes roving across Jimin’s delicate features, small even breaths escaping his lips, a rosy blush creeping up his neck and cheeks as he squirmed under the royal's gaze. Was he flustered? Jungkook wondered, the notion causing heat to rise in his belly at Jimin’s reaction to being the subject of his contemplation.
“Yes, uh, I did-” Jungkook paused for a moment. He hadn’t really considered how he would go about this. “I just wanted to…talk.” He sounded awkward, distinctively unroyal. He scrunched his nose cringing visibly at how he must sound, his lips soon taking on a pout. Jimin was the only person in the world he felt so unsure of himself around.
Technically, talking was the last thing on his mind. Jungkook wanted to rip the robes from his heavenly body and ravage him beyond comprehension. He wanted to take him, mind, body, and soul -- merging with his essence, becoming one entity forever. Leaving him spent and breathless with his name on his tongue. But to say that wasn’t appropriate. Jungkook might be a vampire, but he was raised with a bit more decorum than that.
While not beyond gifting their child with etiquette lessons and nuggets of bone-chilling ‘wisdom’ about the context of humans as a potential food group, his parents were overall distant and unfeeling and thus his childhood was a lonely one. His emotionally incapable family was seemingly unprepared for the way his gift would impact him. Seeking any kind of attention or love was rebuffed. His parents were in turn either annoyed or confused by the child they were raising to be the next king.
He sensed emotion like it was his own, how could he not crave tenderness and love? It was a completely foreign concept to his kind. After all, there was no need for empathy, kindness, or mercy to those who were food. Just to survive there had been times Jungkook had pushed that gift down, especially the part of him that knew it was wrong. He was always internally at odds, wishing he could be cold, ruthless, and uncaring like his family but at his core, he craved comfort, warmth, and touch. To be held, to be wanted, it was everything to him.
No.
Not just to be held and wanted, it was to be held and wanted by Jimin.
The hatred for what he was had expounded infinitely when Jimin walked into his life. He was suddenly and fiercely protective of this man he had barely interacted with. Because this man had changed everything because until that point Jungkook had nearly begrudgingly accepted his dark fate.
Jimin blinked and looked up suddenly, “Talk? To me?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you?” Jungkook asked, slightly amused and dumbfounded.
“I’m no one," he said plainly, confusion still painted on his face.
“You’re definitely someone, Jimin,” Jungkook responded, round eyes softening and resisting the impulse to reach out to take his small hand in his larger one. An ever-present urge to finally experience his touch.
Jungkook felt him relax minutely at Jungkook’s gentle tone, but the confusion remained.
Jimin shook his head slightly.
“I don’t understand,” he stated softly, his stare now back to the floor, hair falling across his forehead and hiding his eyes, unsure of how to handle the interaction.
Pang. Pang.
It hit Jungkook like a lead weight, physically painful to feel Jimin so intensely shy, uncomfortable, and undeserving. That was the emotion that overwhelmed Jungkook. Jimin didn’t feel like he deserved to be in Jungkook’s presence.
Jungkook was surprised, the Jimin he had observed almost obsessively for months was confident, sassy, at times even insolent. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had caught his eye-rolls after being crudely ordered around by that beast of a woman who was Head of Staff. Jungkook had to choke his own laughter back, so he didn’t draw attention for both of their sakes.
Jimin may have been forcibly subservient but he certainly didn’t take it lying down. It was clear to Jungkook that Jimin had been born to hold his head up with pride, this life was not what he was meant for. It was just one of the many things Jungkook had fallen in love with.
He hated that Jimin could ever be made to feel less than, and the fact that it was somehow himself causing that out of character emotion to overwhelm Jimin gave him tremendous heart ache.
No longer able to resist the yearning, Jungkook reached out with his right hand, placing it under Jimin’s chin, and tilted it up ever so slightly. Jimin tried to turn away, his eyes scrunching closed into small half-moon shapes to avoid that forced upward gaze into Jungkook’s contrastingly large round eyes. The once rosy pink of his cheeks was now a darker shade as it bloomed under his skin.
Jungkook gently turned him again, Jimin slowly opened his eyes as Jungkook held his attention, willing him to feel his emotion. Not with his powers, only with his soft touch and the depth of his deep dark chocolate eyes. Jimin’s eyes widened and his full lips parted as a strange look dawned on his face. Was he finally aware of how Jungkook felt about him?
Jungkook smiled down at him. His slightly larger front teeth peeked between his parted lips. It was a tender smile of pure affection. Jungkook hoped Jimin was beginning to understand. If only Jimin knew how Jungkook truly felt, maybe everything would be different.
That electric current Jungkook was feeling was tingling and humming contentedly with each passing second that they stared into each other's eyes, building a fire inside him that was getting harder to keep a lid on. Jungkook relished the small amount of contact he was making with Jimin, the gaze intimate, but his hand on his face was practically burning from the contact.
It wasn't enough.
Suddenly, without hesitation, Jungkook closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Jimin’s. He was frozen at first, his whole body tensed as it was encapsulated in Jungkook's grasp. After the initial shock, Jimin softened at the gentle cloying pressure, knees buckling with only Jungkook's strength keeping him on his feet. Jungkook felt him suddenly come alive against him, his lips moving against his. The current buzzing brighter and more intensely, Jungkook could almost hear the electricity in the room as it filled him. With his kiss, Jungkook willed Jimin to see how he loved him.
Elation was sweeping through Jungkook’s every molecule, his body floating on the sensation of Jimin’s reciprocation. He had no expectations for their meeting tonight, and never in a million years could he have predicted the way Jimin would be finally melting into his arms, sending him over the edge with both of their unadulterated emotions unleashed. What had seemed like a thousand years of isolation and loneliness, punishing him for his very existence, was worth it for every millisecond of this kiss.
Jungkook started it painfully slow, sensual, teasing, and innocent, until the soft brush of his tongue swiped against Jimin’s bottom lip, urging his mouth to open. He obliged with the sweetest of moans and Jungkook felt immediately overcome with the taste of his delicious mouth. It was more than he could have ever dreamed.
Jimin’s tongue bravely darted into Jungkook’s mouth, caressing his. He was needy, wanting to taste even more of Jungkook’s sweet mouth. This sent Jungkook into a tizzy, who had to suppress the urge to throw him onto his bed as Jimin became more brazen. Their kissing became even more heated and passionate. Jungkook settled for pulling his small but well-built frame tightly against his torso, not wanting to leave even the minutest space between each other.
Jimin’s hands wove through Jungkook’s hair, his arms slung around his neck as he angled himself to fit against Jungkook’s hard body, pressing himself against the ever-growing erection in Jungkook’s pants. He slid his fingers down Jimin’s body, feeling the way it curved, from a slim lightly toned torso that tapered deliciously to a petite waist. Then up and down his back, tracing the delicate feel of his shoulder blades and ridges of his spine, learning every inch as he touched.
Jimin squirmed under his touch, seemingly unable to get enough, the friction of his proximity making Jungkook ache. With his palm on the small of Jimin’s back, he pressed Jimin's stomach into Jungkook’s hips, the ache in his groin now more of a delicious agony. Jimin let out small girlish moans in between reveling in Jungkook’s lips.
Jungkook was making up for lost time, the entire 25 years of his life that had felt like lifetimes, devoid of sensation. Always constantly feeling but unable to be felt. It was like Jimin was the cure to his condition, and he had never been so complete and whole with Jimin’s small fingers burning their way through Jungkook's flesh.
As quickly as it had begun, it just as suddenly ended when Jungkook felt Jimin’s small hands push him away with a strength Jungkook didn’t know he possessed. Jungkook’s eyes traveled from Jimin’s pretty, swollen mouth to look deep into his onyx eyes, his brows furrowed in frustration.
“We can’t do this,” he said breathlessly. The shyness was no longer detectable in his voice, instead, it was replaced with trepidation. He motioned to himself and back to Jungkook, “This will get me killed.”
Reality came crashing back as Jungkook regained his composure.
Jimin was right.
What they were doing was strictly forbidden. Cavorting with a human servant for any other purpose than proverbially attending to his laundry would quickly result in their death. Swiftly and grotesquely for Jimin, while Jungkook would be dead inside, an empty husk doomed to live without the only person in the universe that mattered to him.
No, he would end himself first.
But he wouldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t allow a single hair on Jimin’s head to be touched. He would watch the world burn before he let someone harm him.
He had to show him.
“I know this won’t make any sense to you right now,” he took Jimin’s hand so that Jimin could feel Jungkook’s sincerity and also just to feel Jimin. “But there is something between us, something I can’t put into words and I think, maybe, you feel it too. Let me prove it.”
Jungkook's eyes were impossibly wide and earnest. Begging for Jimin to trust him, to just give him a chance to show him what he meant. “Can I show you?” He implored, unable to suss out the correct words to encapsulate his meaning.
Without Jimin having any exact idea of how Jungkook was going to ‘show him,’ he looked unsure, but as he looked down at his hand in Jungkook’s slender fingers, his breathing now more even, a calm was washing over him. Jungkook could see there was reluctance, but ultimately there was trust.
Without even understanding what he was consenting to, Jimin gave a small nod, swimming in Jungkook’s eyes, lost in the depths of his soulful pools.
Jungkook had never used his powers on Jimin, at least not the ones he had control over. Jungkook didn’t believe in stealing his private thoughts or intruding on his dreams. It seemed like a violation. But he made an exception in this case, rather than taking something from Jimin he instead willed his feelings to pass on to him through the intangible bond they shared. To show him, truly, the depth of his feelings. Beyond words, his emotions couldn’t be false, couldn’t be a deception.
They were simple pure truth.
Jimin seemed skeptical if only for a moment, Jungkook could see Jimin’s face as he slowly turned the intangible cord of energy between them from merely a humming connection to an entire oneness. His powers allowed Jimin inside Jungkook’s very being.
“How?” Jimin asked aloud, a tremble in his small voice, his eyes transfixed on Jungkook’s face, almost unseeing. Because was no longer seeing with his eyes, he was seeing with his heart and his soul. Jimin didn’t elaborate further but Jungkook knew exactly what he meant.
For as many questions Jimin had, they exchanged them wordlessly, answers being found as fast as he could think of a new one. He was learning everything about Jungkook, no holds barred, no limit. He was letting him know him completely, it was only fair.
Jungkook already knew Jimin, Jungkook couldn’t help but know him. His power being what it was, it was almost like people were nude around Jungkook, fully revealing themselves to him without ever intending to. While it was not his fault, Jungkook perpetually felt dirty. The feelings he had for Jimin developed naturally as a result of Jimin’s unintentional emotional nudity, his soul on display for Jungkook to marvel.
Jimin was trembling, eyes still fixed and wide. His pink lips parted with quiet undistinguishable sounds falling from them at the overwhelming connection.
“Shhhh, just let me hold you,” Jungkook said softly, pulling him in against his chest once again. In Jungkook’s embrace, Jimin once again melted. The wordless and seemingly endless connection flooded between them, unburdening his love in the most unadulterated way possible.
There weren’t words needed any longer.
Jungkook took Jimin to the parts of himself he hated, where he could finally understand exactly who Jungkook was, his powers, and who his family was. Or rather what they were. The sense of confirmation of suspicions washed over Jungkook. Jimin had some idea of what they were but the actual verification was jarring nonetheless, but he wasn’t able to dwell. All things were happening at once. It was like one memory, one feeling, mixed with a thousand other discoveries all at once. Jungkook was already used to the sensation of other’s emotions but this was like a nuclear bomb of emotions, Jimin overloaded, feeling on a whole other level, simultaneously experiencing a specific reaction to every part of Jungkook.
Jimin’s reaction to Jungkook’s self-loathing, his loneliness, his confusion and dichotomy of self, all of the negative and ugly emotions, the things he had seen, and suffered that had built up were met with Jimin’s shock, then understanding, patience, and his boundless empathy.
Jungkook’s feelings and memories of Jimin himself were met with a flurry of things, embarrassment, surprise, and joy to name a few. Jimin could finally see what Jungkook saw, the way he filled Jungkook’s heart and soul with every part of his being, how he longed to touch him, to just be around him. The way his body made Jungkook ache with desire. How he touched himself from built-up frustration at night with the image of Jimin’s slender naked form wrapped intricately around him.
Their bodies a twisted knot of intertwined limbs, hands grasping fists full of Jimin’s silky hair while he rides Jungkook’s cock. Their mouths inseparable, tongues swirling hotly against each other until they both reach climax. How when he came, it was always with Jimin’s name on his lips. The way he found Jimin to be absolutely beautiful inside and out.
Jimin could see how earnestly Jungkook loved him, with no expectation but with boundless yearning and desire. How Jungkook was willing to do anything to protect him.
Anything.
“Now,” Jimin said aloud a bit breathlessly as the connection began to turn from a flood to a more comfortable trickle. “Can you reverse that? How do I show you me?” It was like the answer to an unspoken question. He was still shaking from the intensity of it all and yet he was ready to do it all over again, but this time for Jungkook.
Jungkook hadn’t expected this. He was more than willing to show Jimin his soul, he had already been pining for Jimin, hopelessly in love with him for months but for Jimin to allow Jungkook to see his entirety after being completely in the dark the entire time? After one, albeit fucking amazing, kiss? It was a lot to take in.
“Are you sure you want that?” Jungkook asked incredulously, wondering how Jimin could possibly be ready for that step. He knew Jimin now understood the scope of what that meant; the good, the bad, and the ugly would be completely on display. Not just Jimin’s emotions at any given time as they always had been. Jungkook would be able to see Jimin’s memories, images, thoughts, and feelings all at once without any way to moderate or hide them just as Jungkook had allowed for Jimin.
Jimin clutched Jungkook tighter, seemingly willing him to recognize he was prepared and consenting.
“Please. I need to show you," Jimin practically begged, the need apparent in both his voice and in the desperate way he clung to Jungkook.
Jungkook could feel an unnerving sensation wash over him. The hunger to use his powers to take something from Jimin. The voyeuristic glee of being privy to Jimin’s most personal and guarded parts of himself that Jungkook had never dared to allow himself access to.
But to take it was wrong.
Jungkook squashed the sensation down, unwilling to let his basest desire sully the purity of what Jimin was willing to give him, access to his soul.
No, Jimin wanted this, he reminded himself. Willingly given. Not taken.
“If you’re sure…” Jungkook trailed off, his breath hitching in his chest, unsure of what he would find. He already knew Jimin, he was so confident in his love for him, yet suddenly he was nervous. He wasn’t concerned that there would be something that changed how he felt for Jimin, but what he would learn about Jimin’s feelings for him scared him.
How deep did they really go?
Jungkook stroked Jimin’s hair and closed his eyes, letting his head rest against Jimin’s, inhaling his sweet scent once again. He breathed Jimin in deeply and exhaled Jimin’s essence, not necessarily for the purpose of allowing himself into Jimin’s mind but it soothed and calmed him as he finally allowed his powers to overtake Jimin’s willing body. The bond once again went from a humming cord to an all-encompassing oneness. Jungkook was surprised to find how easily he slipped into him completely.
Instantly he knew why.
Jimin wanted him there. He wanted him. All of him. His good, his bad, his ugly. His vampire side, his human side, powers, sadness, lust, love, everything. That wordless connection forged as they merged souls was turning into something beautiful and pure, it was as reciprocated as Jungkook’s love.
Jimin felt unequivocally the same.
Jungkook was tempted to ask the same question Jimin had before, why? But he also was given the answer before it could escape his lips.
Jimin showed Jungkook their first interaction, which was barely an interaction at all. A stolen glance from across the room, eyes meeting in an instant fiery spark that lit something within them both. Jungkook hadn’t cooked up his feelings out of nowhere, after all, he had picked up on Jimin’s instant attraction to Jungkook. Jimin’s feelings of forbiddenness, shame, guilt, fear, longing, and lust all washed over Jungkook.
He watched through Jimin’s eyes, how when Jungkook simply walked into a room it took his breath away. But it was more than the visual memory, it was the feeling behind every inch of it, all was confessed to him.
Jungkook was mesmerizing. Jimin found himself making excuses just to walk past him in a room. His eyes from afar always transfixed upon Jungkook’s every detail, drinking in every achingly brief stolen glance and committing his entirety to memory.
The way Jungkook’s longish dark locks perfectly fell in delicate waves against his lightly tanned skin. How his broad shoulders and hard-bodied athletic physique made Jimin’s mouth water. Somehow entirely masculine but with features that felt soft and gentle; perfect full eyebrows tapering delicately, the hard line of his smoothly shaven jaw. He had the sweetest little beauty mark placed just to the right beneath the center of his full lips. His kind warm eyes were wide and round, always seemingly in wonder, not that Jimin had ever dared to look into them. He was convinced they were capable of housing everything in them, they were as deep and endless as the night sky.
And so tall, Jimin thought and instantly Jungkook felt a giggle bubbling in his chest.
Well, to Jimin he was tall, he was always finding himself picturing himself curled innocently within the spans of his long strong arms, looking ever upward at his commanding height. Wishing he could be swept up, carried, letting himself be small for him. He craved Jungkook’s strength and protection but didn’t dare to let himself ask for it.
It was wrong on so many, many levels.
There were the whispers. The rumors the staff shared when no one else was around were terrifying. But Jimin didn’t have a choice, his family was gone. Long dead from a hard life of poverty and disease. Jimin himself had barely escaped starvation. No one who was here had a choice. But Jimin had grimly accepted his fate and left it in God’s hands. His one small glimmer of hope was in the man who he was drawn to from first glance.
He was different from the others. It wasn’t just his beauty that had struck Jimin to the core. It was his good nature, kindness, and his smile. With brilliantly white, slightly rounded teeth, he was instantly disarming. The absolute charm of his more prominently situated front teeth and his perfect button-like nose that scrunched absentmindedly instantly reminded Jimin of a bunny-- soft, innocent and pure.
The rest of Jungkook’s family had an absolute edge, whereas Jungkook was all soft round corners, they were sharp and jagged shards of glass. Equally beautiful but something intangible about them was utterly terrifying. He had noticed the way Jungkook seemed like an outcast in his own home. He was all alone.
This aloneness was something they both shared. Both had craved each other's comfort, without realizing it, bonded by the kindredness of a deep gut-wrenching loneliness.
Jimin’s mind fluttered to the nights spent tossing and turning in his small bed, thin sheet pushed aside as a hot sweat broke out across Jimin’s flustered body. Hair damp at his temples, his bottom lip clenched in his own teeth. He was positively writhing in his bed. His small hand gripping his stiff cock, feverishly pumping it. The precum flowed madly making his hand slippery as he worked himself over. The gasp that tore from his mouth as he climbed ever closer to ecstasy was desperate and pleading, “Uuugh…Jungkook…” Jimin panted, begged even.
“Fuck me, Jungkook!”
His orgasm tore from his body like it was escaping hell. And to Jimin, it was because he knew he would never get to be with him. He could only imagine Jungkook’s hard cock working him into a frenzy, buried deep in his ass until he filled him to the brim with his cum. The idea of it filling Jimin up until it overflowed out of him was the only thing he could do to get off anymore.
But it was all only a fantasy, and every night when images of Jungkook sweating over Jimin’s prone form filled his mind until it drove him insane, he would relent, pathetically jerking his own dick off and making a sticky sad mess on himself. Feeling emptier and more alone each time.
Jungkook deeply blushed as he watched the scene unfold in Jimin’s mind, his dick throbbing menacingly in his pants. Suddenly more aware than ever that Jimin was still pressed tightly against him. He was both experiencing Jimin’s memory like it was his own and feeling the intense arousal of watching Jimin fucking himself to the idea of being fucked by Jungkook. It was incredibly meta.
But Jimin’s soul wasn’t all lust and longing. Jimin felt incredible shame for his sinful desires for Jungkook. Not to mention the seemingly unrequited love had left Jimin feeling hollow and worthless. He was nothing and nobody, not worthy of affection, love, and most importantly Jungkook. Just existing near Jungkook hurt him. Made him ache for him knowing he was worse than the dirt he scrubbed from the floors of the manor-- than the shit he cleaned from the chamber pots.
Jungkook was shocked at this admission, this particular feeling Jimin was wallowing in was especially disturbing to him.
He would never let Jimin think that again. Jimin was a creature to be worshiped. He would make it his life’s mission that Jimin understood the depth of his worth, the way that Jungkook was absolutely devoted.
Jungkook slowly unraveled himself from Jimin’s essence, the sensation leaving them both unnerved.
“You,” Jungkook said with such intensity it was almost a command, his voice low and thick. “Are. Worthy.” Each word emphasized by a hard pointedness.
Jimin finally felt it.
Released from the inner turmoil he had been plagued with for the last few months, he finally let himself feel the comfort of Jungkook’s safety net, the well-crafted cage of taut muscles and flesh that clasped himself with immense strength and yet delicacy. He was safe. He was wanted. He wasn’t alone anymore.
Jungkook knew this was more than any one person could handle. How Jimin was still standing after experiencing so many different revelations was beyond him. But it was just relief that filled the room. Not fear, or anxiety, just relief.
Jimin shuddered in his arms, the sensation washing over his frame. Small sobs muffled against Jungkook's chest, wetting the linen as Jimin cried from the overload and subsequent release.
Jungkook's heart swelled, letting Jimin cry it out. Bringing his hand up to soothe the hair from Jimin’s face which was now slick with tears, bottled up for too long.
Jungkook didn’t shush him or offer any more platitudes of love, longing, or devotion. He just let him cry. He let him cry until the sensation had emptied, letting the well dry until his hiccuping body had calmed, held safely in his arms.
Acceptance.
When Jimin pressed back against Jungkook’s chest, releasing himself from his arms, the sight was equal parts devastating and beautiful.
His tear-streaked cheeks were hot and glistening, lips bitten red and damp, and while his eyes should have been bloodshot and puffy, they were instead red-rimmed and dark. He looked eerily sexy like he had just been fucked out of his mind rather than crying. The passing thought instantly sent a jolt to Jungkook’s cock. He shook the thought away, now was not the time.
Jimin’s eyes peered up at Jungkook’s through a mess of dark lashes still clumped wetly.
"What now?" Jimin asked quietly, his voice still thick from crying.
Jungkook pondered the thought, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. For him, this was it. As soon as Jimin had confirmed his feelings Jungkook knew there was never a way out of this for him. But if Jimin needed time, he would give it to him. He had nothing but time for Jimin.
Jungkook sucked in a deep breath exhaling heavily. "Anything, everything? As much or as little as you want from me, I'm yours."
He kissed his forehead, knowing Jimin was going to need time to process.
"Then,” Jimin began, locking his eyes with Jungkook, a resolute expression on his face, “I want you to fuck me," his voice firm and unwavering.
Jungkook let out a small gasp, heat flooding his veins. The change in energy in the room made his head swim. He cautioned himself, resisting the very real urge to literally rip Jimin’s clothes off.
"You said anything..." Jimin stated coyly, his lips turning with an impish smile.
Jungkook opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to form a coherent sentence, "Are you...sure?"
Near frustration was knitting Jimin's eyebrows together, "You know firsthand how badly I've wanted this, we both want this. I've never been more sure of anything."
Jungkook could hardly believe his ears, or his eyes, or his ridiculous luck. His face was flushed and his stomach was doing flips with anticipation.
"I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself," Jungkook stated breathily, gathering with some effort every ounce of willpower he had left to sound composed.
"...Then don't," Jimin stated confidently. He was brash and unfiltered, the energy of arousal in the air giving him courage he had never believed possible. Sassy Jimin was finally showing himself in full force, unapologetically bold. He was willful and knew what he wanted.
It was all it took for the restraint Jungkook was barely clinging to, to snap entirely.
Jungkook stepped back quickly, the proverbial tethered cord tugging, urging the space between them to grow closer, not farther apart, but Jungkook wanted to watch Jimin. From the bed he sat, throwing his legs up until they rested comfortably. He leaned back against the headboard, unbuckling his pants, to free just a bit of the accumulating pressure. His eyes were glued to Jimin’s. His heart was pounding uncontrollably in his chest and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up this act of sensibility, of restraint. But he wanted to see him strip, and lust at the glorious sight he had only imagined in his wildest dreams as it became a reality.
Jimin stood motionless as Jungkook got comfortable, his breath was coming in ragged already, small puffs of air passed his wet mouth as he took in the sight before him, Jungkook was wonton, eyes boring into Jimin’s with something downright scary. He was glorious.
And all his...
“Take it off. All of it," Jungkook panted his command, a hand pawing at the barely contained hard-on in his pants.
Relief again flooded Jimin, as he shed his clothing. Pulling the garment over his head felt like a weight being lifted from his chest. One less thing between him and the absolute salvation of Jungkook’s flesh.
Jungkook didn’t want to ruin this moment. He was committing every millisecond to memory, the way Jimin looked right now like he would destroy him and Jungkook would let him. Jimin’s moonlit skin looked almost luminescent. Fair and creamy. His body was slight of build but absent of an ounce of fat, spared only for the plumpness of his round ass and the apples of his cheeks. The length of his torso was lean, cutting perfect lines in between taut abs. His pants hung dangerously low on his narrow hips, two fingers catching the sides and dragging them ever so slowly lower.
Jungkook bit his lower lip, sucking in his breath. Steady. He reminded himself. Jimin looked like some kind of torture device crafted by the devil to ruin him completely. There was a haunting look in Jimin’s eyes. So much desire, it was threatening to spill any moment. The fact that he dared to tease Jungkook now made him laugh darkly.
“I said take it fucking off!” Jungkook practically growled.
If he wanted to torture him, it was working wondrously. He could hardly take the pressure in his pants, even with the fabric unbuttoned and spread apart to accommodate his ever-hardening length. The seams of his silk underwear were tightly screaming against him, but he wanted Jimin to release him. In every sense of the word.
It was Jimin’s smirk, drinking up the look on Jungkook’s pained face that made Jungkook come completely unhinged.
In a flash, he was on Jimin, restraint long forgotten. Taking the other's hips roughly in his hands, he grabbed fistfuls of the fabric clinging to his waist and tore it in opposite directions. The tattered rags fell limply at Jimin’s feet.
He was swept off his feet, naked legs dangling momentarily before Jungkook flung them both into the bed. Jimin bounced up and collapsed back down into the softness of his pillows and then was immediately assaulted by the opposingly hard body of Jungkook as he pressed upon him his full weight.
Jimin was already breathless, reveling in the way he made Jungkook crazy with desire. The control he held over him made him drunk and dizzy. Somehow despite his vulnerable nudity, while Jungkook remained ever-clothed, he had never felt more empowered. In this game they played, Jimin would let Jungkook win, for now. Jimin would be his prize happily.
Jungkook was littering Jimin’s soft body with excruciating kisses, fingers frantically touching every part of his flesh he could reach. He was out of his mind, unleashed upon this helpless creature under him.
Jimin arched and moved under him with each kiss, agonizingly reaching for more of his touch. He squirmed on the bed, mirroring the nights he dreamed of Jungkook fucking him raw. But this time it was in response to touch, not the absence of it. When Jimin arched looking for more, he was met with it tenfold.
Jungkook scraped his teeth against the flesh of Jimin’s hip, leaving a wet trail of saliva as his mouth watered from the taste of his skin. He took the briefest of moments, though it deserved an eternity, to gaze upon the sight of Jimin’s hard cock. It was springing from a shock of shiny glistening dark hair, the tip wet and somehow pouty as if seeking a kiss. It was long and perfect, the pink head begging to have Jungkook wrapped around it.
He enveloped Jimin’s length with a guttural moan, Jimin immediately lifting his hips to deepen its newfound home in Jungkook’s hot throat.
The way it slid down his throat was like it was made for it.
Like it fucking belongs there.
He swallowed it whole, hungrily, madly, choking on its length while his drool spilled lewdly from his mouth.
Jimin was gripping the sheets with white knuckles, his face screwed up into something akin to agony. The white-hot burning of Jungkook’s mouth, the way his cock head jammed itself into the deepest parts of it and the way Jungkook sounded gagging on him was sending Jimin into space. The best orgasm of his life was while fantasizing about this moment, Jungkook’s name being screamed gut-wrenchingly at the top of his lungs, and yet he knew that not for a second would it come anywhere close to what he was about to experience.
But not yet.
He let Jungkook choke on his dick for a few more mind-boggling moments, but he was not about to let himself blow his load on anything but Jungkook’s cock. His hole fluttered with anticipation.
He reached down and with some effort pulled Jungkook’s hungry mouth from his throbbing dick. There was a scintillating string of saliva and precum still connecting the two, almost like that invisible tether that bound them.
Jungkook was gasping, mouth still agape, tongue wagging between his lips with animalistic urgency. He had a glassy look in his dark blown-out eyes, he was absolutely fucking devastated to have been torn from that dick.
Jimin’s hands were gripping Jungkook’s hair almost punishingly, as he strained against Jimin’s efforts, tongue reaching out to lap at the quickly collecting precum that had gathered at his tip in the passing moments.
“You are a fucking animal," Jimin grinned, the dirty words left his mouth before he could doubt himself. Sudden shock at his own filthy mouth caused heat to flush his cheeks in embarrassment.
Jungkook nearly growled in response again, seemingly appreciating the raunchy worded comparison, reaching helplessly with his mouth towards Jimin’s sopping wet prick.
“But I want it,” Jungkook huffed petulantly licking his lips, causing Jimin’s chest to tighten with delight.
“No, baby," Jimin cooed, relishing in the responses he got when he talked dirty, the earlier embarrassment long gone. “Not yet.”
He released Jungkook’s hair and his head flopped into Jimin’s mound, breathing hard, still tasting and longing for the sweet flesh of Jimin’s cock on his tongue.
Jimin petted his damping hair, fingers ticking the nape of his neck where the collar of his shirt was rubbing rudely.
Jungkook took a deep intoxicating breath, drinking in the scent of Jimin’s sex, absolutely high as a kite on it. He raked his hands up and down Jimin’s muscular thighs while he rested for those few moments catching his breath, still drinking him in one lungful at a time.
Jimin’s skin was silky, the touch raising the small hairs on his pale skin, Jungkook was in awe of how his touch caused such reactions. The reverie was over quickly though, as Jimin’s grasp once again turned harsh as he pulled Jungkook up to his lips. Crushing them against Jungkook with brutally passionate force.
There was just so much goddamn need.
Jimin wanted to consume him. And Jungkook would let him.
Jungkook wasn’t sure exactly why this felt so outrageously intense. Be it the deep love, longing, and carnal lust for each other, or the primordial connection that they had somehow stumbled upon. Whatever it was, it was fraught and full of so much fucking wanting it could literally kill him. He almost wanted it to -- just let it have its way with him. If he fucking died with Jimin buried in his throat or with Jimin’s fat asscheeks smothering his face, tongue deep in his hole, so be it.
Jimin could ride him to hell for all he cared.
Jimin clawed at Jungkook’s shirt blindly, fingers desperately searching for skin. Jungkook ripped it over his head, losing it somewhere, completely forgotten outside the world of their mouths tasting each other. Finally, Jungkook’s skin was on fire against Jimin’s. Damp, hot skin pressed against damp, hot skin. Jimin's fingers skillfully found Jungkook’s nipples, the buds immediately hardening with his contact. Pinching and tugging until they were perfectly peaked. Jungkook moaned angstily into Jimin’s mouth, the painful pressure Jimin was sending to his already agonizingly constrained diamond-hard cock was making Jungkook nearly black out.
“I need to fuck you," Jungkook gasped into Jimin’s mouth, teeth clashing as they messily lapped at each other's tongues. “Right. Fucking. Now.”
Jungkook sat bolt upright, his hair a fucking mess of sweaty sex-crazed locks, eyes absolutely black with lust. Jimin was equal parts disheveled, his lips so swollen they looked like they might burst. His eyes were wide, both taking in the sight of each other losing their absolute shit.
It made Jungkook even hornier.
The look Jungkook sent Jimin was screaming for release. His face was suddenly soft, his big doe eyes pleading silently to end his anguish.
“Please," Jungkook cried, the hurt of his words causing Jimin physical pain. Without another moment's hesitation, Jimin granted Jungkook’s wish, pushing the fabric of his caged cock from his hips with artful fingers. It flew up from his body like a spring in a trap, swinging dangerously at attention. Jungkook released a huge sigh, eyes rolling back at the release of pressure, the relief was palpable. Jungkook somehow squirreled himself out of the rest of his pants, finally free and naked above Jimin’s awed gaze.
Jimin’s mouth literally fell open, Jungkook was nearly blinding in his beauty. He looked like a statue carved by horny angels. All tightly coiled hard muscle rippling from one limb to the next, conversely broad chest and shoulders with a small tapered waist and dewy deeply cut abs that led scathingly to the most fucking gorgeous, engorged monstrosity of a cock he could have ever dreamed of.
His fantasy Jungkook, the one he had created out of thin air, built in his mind to peak perfection had absolutely nothing on the real thing. Jungkook’s ruffled messy hair and baby-doe eyes were almost comically at odds with the vision he was, somehow boyish innocence and demon sex god all at once.
Jimin’s tongue dropped from the roof of his mouth like an invitation. He grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook's tight ass and thrust him forward. Jungkook toppled half haphazardly over him at the show of strength. Jungkook’s mouth wasn’t the only one starving for cock. If anyone knew what starvation felt like, it was Jimin, and Jungkook’s fucking gigantic thick dick felt like a buffet stuffed down his throat. It was filling every single part of it, so full it was encompassing his entire being.
Between his legs his dick was drooling pools of precum, sticky and wet, his balls were painfully tight and ready for release. The arousal pressing itself down his esophagus with Jungkook's full weight behind it was making Jimin see stars from lack of oxygen, but he wanted it there. To pass out stuffed full to bursting with this thick cock pushing at the back of his throat would be a blessing, and he somehow couldn’t fathom coming up for air.
Jungkook sat back, pushing against the headboard to gaze at one of the most erotic sights he could have ever seen. Jimin’s lips stretched impossibly wide around his aching dick, with eyes rolled into the back of his head, it nearly made him blow his load right then, so deep in Jimin’s throat he wouldn’t even taste his cum.
Jimin’s eyes started to flutter and his grip on Jungkook’s ass started to soften limply and suddenly Jungkook was pulling himself out of his mouth angrily.
Jimin’s eyes shot open, sputtering and coughing, looking around wildly, and finding Jungkook above him looking like a dark angel.
“Are you trying to actually choke on my dick?” He scolded breathlessly, cock dripping mere inches from Jimin’s red face.
Jimin coughed once more and managed an embarrassed smile, “I couldn’t help myself," he managed, as he wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand.
“Well, don’t do that," Jungkook said softer for a moment, and then with a lower purr, “You’re going to want to be conscious for what I do to you next.” His eyes narrowed once more with promises he intended to fulfill.
His hand reached for Jimin’s lips, brushing the pump wetness, plunging his thumb into Jimin’s mouth where he clamped down on it immediately, sucking and swirling his tongue around the digit.
This soft sensation instantly left Jungkook in ruins again, forgetting Jimin’s near suicide attempt by cock suffocation. Jimin clasped his hands around the hand in his mouth and he sucked each finger, finding comfort in four of them dancing on his tongue at once.
Jungkook pulled back until he was sitting between Jimin’s legs, his cock bouncing up to greet him once again. Jungkook held the long length in one hand and lapped at the tip, just a quick taste before he was pushing Jimin’s thighs apart until his hole was fluttering and exposed to the air.
The perfect pink ring was something Jungkook would have prayed for if he had been a religious man. Maybe Jimin was a holy vessel after all. His mouth filled with saliva behind clenched teeth, and instead of swallowing, he pooled the hot wetness from his mouth down Jimin’s taint, letting it lazily spill from his lips until Jimin was thoroughly saturated.
Jungkook sat back and admired his work, Jimin’s slicked hole covered in his wetness, little bubbles of spit collecting around the rim and reflecting light delicately. Jungkook stared at it, almost in a trance. Bringing a finger to the opening and swirling it around, drinking in the sensation of how it responded to his light wet touch.
Jimin reflexively clenched, almost like he was trying to close himself around the phantom soft touch, needing it to be inside of him, filling him. Both Jimin and Jungkook’s cocks throbbed accordingly. He applied more pressure, the rest of the universe was far away as he lost himself in the art of finger fucking Jimin’s asshole.
Jimin mewled, his own voice seemed far away from his body as he was above it as Jungkook pressed in, one finger, then two, then three. At first slowly, but then quickly aspiring to a maddening pace that was driving Jimin to the point of no return.
“Fuuuuuuuck," Jimin cursed, long and drawn out, he was dying to cum but didn’t dare touch his cock, or even move in case the sensation sent him over the edge.
“You… need to... Uuugh fuck me. I need to cum!” Jimin screamed out clamping his legs down to prevent further thrusting into his now pliable hole.
Jungkook swatted his legs apart, unphased, eyes glazed, dark, unreadable as anything else but animalistic, “You’ll cum when I say so," he said darkly, his voice was thick and harsh, thrusting his fingers ever deeper and harder into Jimin. The possessive animal nature in him was commandeering the wheel.
“Baby…please I… need your cock. Inside…” Jimin resorted to pleading, his eyes looking for Jungkook’s amidst feverishly moaning, desperately clinging to the bed for maybe the only thing that was keeping him on this earth.
Something about the way Jimin’s voice sounded broke Jungkook from his trance-like state, sudden guilt panging in him once again by the way he yet again had let his darkness drive him.
His eyes locked with Jimin, already looking for forgiveness in his features.
“Baby, it’s okay,” Jimin breathed hard, trying to catch his breath. He reached out for Jungkook again, giving the wounded one comfort in his caress.
“I just need you,” Jimin said sweetly, like a cock in his ass was the only way Jungkook would get that forgiveness. “Please.”
Jungkook’s eyes were as round as saucers, the way Jimin’s voice broke every bit of Jungkook’s heart with how much he wanted him to fill him, it made him soft all over, everywhere except the one place that needed to be hard, and was it ever.
Jimin’s hole was fluttering and soft, wet and ready as it ever would be. Jungkook wasted no more time, using the slick of his fingers already wet from Jimin’s ass and his precum-soaked length to ready himself for damnation, or salvation. Or was it both?
Positioning himself at Jimin’s entrance, even after stretching to accommodate his meaty fingers still looked so small against his bulbous head. He rubbed it needily against the muscle testing its flexibility gingerly. It parted immediately sucking against the end of his cock begging to be pushed to its limits.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Jungkook asked, his voice cracked, his mouth suddenly dry, almost scared to hear the answer.
Jimin laughed, his voice laced with abandon. “I don’t care if you tear me apart, fuck me now, Jungkook.”
He was demanding, and defiant. Jungkook would fuck him or he would fuck himself onto that dick one way or another whether Jungkook liked it or not at this point.
Jimin thrust his hips outward, reaching for more of that burning stretch. Jungkook relented, giving in to the needy, to the point of destruction, creature beneath him. He rocked his hips forward pressing hard but agonizingly slow against Jimin’s tight ring. He watched with an unflinching gaze how well it stretched, swallowing him up bit by bit.
Jimin found Jungkook’s large hand poised ever so softly against his hips, allowing only his cock to be the part of him that inflicted pain at this moment. Jimin was cutting into Jungkook’s flesh with fingernails, driving crescent-shaped wounds into Jungkook, neither aware of any other sensation, as his asshole stretched beyond imagining in a scorching burn that threatened to take him away.
“Baby, you’re taking my cock so well," Jungkook praised, his voice thick and eyes still fixed in place, seemingly unperceptive of the wounds Jimin was creating in his skin. Nothing else mattered at that moment beyond watching Jimin’s pink hole gape around his enormous length.
Meanwhile, Jimin was coming fucking unhinged, stretched beyond anything he could have possibly imagined, he was on fire. Jungkook pressed ever more, slowly filling Jimin to overload. His face was beat red, and breathless, no air escaped his lungs as the pain was all-consuming. But the fullness, the ungodly fullness he was feeling at that moment was quite literally breathtaking.
“Holy fucking shit!” Jimin finally found the words and screamed, his pitch hitting an all-time high, head raised from the bed as if he expected to see his bottom half actually split in two.
Jungkook looked startled at the sound, unmoving, his cock an actual white-hot iron in Jimin’s vice of an asshole. “You took me all in, baby," Jungkook cooed innocently looking proud, buried to the hilt, yet soft doe eyes again.
What the actual fucking fuck! Jimin thought manically.
His head flopped backward with a grin through painfully clenched teeth. The absolute absurdity of the sinless look on Jungkook’s face, while he was basically balls-deep tearing Jimin’s asshole apart, was somehow hysterical and also incredibly hot.
“Is it okay?” Jungkook asked, his voice soft and unsure. How he managed to possess the ability to look and sound like an angel, while engaged in the sinful acts of what was clearly all things unholy, was surely one of his vampiric powers at work.
“Are you insane!?” Jimin mocked breathlessly, staring once again into the most disarming round wide eyes, a flash of hurt crossing Jungkook’s baby-soft features.
“I’m sorry, I... We should stop,” Jungkook said crestfallen, remorse sweeping across his face. He began to pull away and Jimin winced, grabbing his wrists and holding him in place, immediately sorry for making Jungkook look like that. He never wanted to see that hurt in his eyes again.
“Please. Don’t. Just…” Jimin paused through deep breaths and gritted teeth, he was still trying to get used to the intense burn and fullness of Jungkook inside him. “Wait. I can take you. I swear," Jimin was saying that to both himself and Jungkook, willing it to be true. He was going to fuck this man for the rest of his life, so he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to have the chance to get used to the feeling.
Jungkook looked worried, seeing Jimin’s own cock growing soft from pain. He furrowed his brow, angry with himself. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have tried to push you. It was too much too fast. I should have been more patient.”
Jimin again laughed at the idea that he was the one who would now comfort Jungkook, still hard as a rock inside him, filling him so deeply he could feel him in his soul. “Baby,” Jimin soothed, “I wanted this. I want you. I still want you. I need you. You’re just so fucking big, Jungkookie, it’ll just take me a minute. I promise. Just go slowly, I need it slow…” Jimin whined. Already the pain was beginning to subside, and the fullness remained, pushing on everything in a way that made even his breathing cause friction on his prostate.
“Okay…” Jungkook said, softening especially at the pet name Jimin used. A puff of air escaped his lips. Hyper alert, this time to the sounds Jimin was making. Not letting himself get caught up, this had to be about Jimin.
He pulled out achingly slowly, an inch or so, just rolling his hips, letting Jimin adjust to the sensation.
“Ohhhhh,” he gasped. Jungkook's eyes flashed to Jimin’s, which were closed sensually, not in pain it seemed. Jungkook sensed the energy, allowing himself to tune into Jimin’s emotions only for the time being, while before he was selfishly distracted.
Not pain, not exactly. Something else consumed Jimin that Jungkook couldn’t quite encapsulate. He rolled his hips forward experimentally, the small thrust eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jimin’s lips.
Not pain.
He allowed himself a longer drag this time, still slowly, and then thrusting forward with a gentle roll of his hips.
“Mmmm. Baby, you can go faster," Jimin purred urgently, eyes still tightly closed, adorable half-moons scrunched against his cheeks, his dark eyelashes prettily tickling the tops of them.
Jungkook grunted approvingly, already letting a bit of that trepidation go with the needy moans Jimin was letting out. He grabbed Jimin’s hips aggressively for leverage to control the next thrust, pulling half his huge cock out was already making Jimin squeal.
“Like… This?” Jungkook grunted, thrusting harder, filling Jimin again to the brink.
“Ohhh fuck, yes, like that.”
Jungkook needed no more guidance, he let Jimin’s lewd whimpers and slutty moans drive him. Soon he was plowing into Jimin, his thrusting deep and carnal. Jimin was weeping tears of precum from his now hard again length. Jungkook took a bead of it from the head and brought it to his lips, the taste giving him over to some kind of magical high. Jimin was a rag doll beneath him, helplessly screaming in ecstasy while Jungkook fucked his gapped asshole to oblivion.
Each long thrust stabbed and engulfed his sweet spot entirely. Jimin had been edged to perfection, his already tight balls were screaming against the newfound demented pleasure he was experiencing amidst the chaos and pain being driven into his body mercilessly.
“Mmmmm….” Jungkook groaned, lost in the sensation of everything that was Jimin, squeezing Jungkook’s cock from within like he wanted to break it. “You feel so fucking good baby, you’re so good for me. So tight.” His every syllable dripping with his own pleasure.
His dirty purring was pushing Jimin to the edge. Coming off this dick was going to be like falling to his death, of that he was certain.
“Fuck me! Fuck f..uuck ffffuuuck!” Jimin screeched with each thrust as he climbed ever higher on a scale he didn’t know the top of. With one last particularly excruciating jab at his battered hole, his words tore from his body, “Jungkook! I’m cu..cuumming!”
Jimin nearly blacked out, his body convulsing inhumanly under Jungkook’s unrelenting cock. The statement need no announcing as the white jets of hot cum burst forth covering Jungkook and Jimin’s stomachs equally. Jungkook’s pace didn’t let up even for a second. The blown out dilated look in his eyes meant he was long gone, and the one who was left in charge wasn't ready to stop yet.
He pounded the now limp wet body of Jimin into the bed, his legs stretched uncomfortably wide to accommodate him, driving him hard and punishingly into the sheets. Jimin groaned, over-sensitive and exhausted, yet his asshole hungrily slurped at Jungkook for another few minutes that somehow felt like eons.
“Please," Jimin finally begged, his voice was so ragged and tired. “Cum for me baby, I need you to fill me up.”
Jungkook leered at him, “You want me to fill your tight little asshole with my cum?” His eyes were black and glazed, “Your asshole is so fucking tight, Jimin. You think my cock hurts you, try having this tight pink ring gripped around your dick, it’s fucking killing me," Jungkook cried out through gritted teeth, with an aggressive slap stinging Jimin’s asscheeks for emphasis. Jungkook was so high on Jimin’s body that he was out of his mind. Biting his lip so hard there was a bead of blood forming against his teeth.
“Unnnngghhhh” Jimin managed to moan, barely conscious anymore. The cum he unleashed glistened between them. His dick had already gotten hard again, despite himself practically falling apart at the seams from his last orgasm, his next one was fast approaching.
“Gunna cum one more time for me, baby?” Jungkook said through a jaw so tightly clenched it looked painful. “Want you to cum all over this cock. Need it," Jungkook managed brokenly, he was simply possessed, fucking at a speed and relentlessness that seemed unearthly, maybe because it was.
It was all Jimin needed to hear. Jimin quivered again and again underneath him, his body spasming as his second orgasm purged from his body like an exorcized demon. The look on his fucked to death face put Jungkook over the edge, with a few more frenzied thrusts to the hilt, he finally was spilling an unholy amount of built-up seed in the depths of Jimin’s ass. Sounds he didn’t know he could make were ushered from his lips.
“Uuughhhhhhhhhh, Jimin-ah.” His orgasm sounded like he was a wounded animal, the release of it bringing tears to sting his eyes.
Still spasming he gripped his cock at the base, pulling it almost out to milk the last few spurts at the entrance, so he could watch it ooze thickly from Jimin’s fucked-wide gaping hole.
“Holy fucking hell,” Jungkook breathed sharply, senses it seemed finally returning to earth, watching Jimin’s completely limp near lifeless body ooze wetly from his cum. His high not quite allowing him the true scope of what he had done to the man he supposedly loves.
“Mmhm…” Jimin responded, his voice barely a whisper, and it was all he could manage before it was lights out, and darkness enveloped him peacefully.
_____
There wasn’t a thought in Jimin’s head as he found himself deeply unconscious, not dreaming, not anything. Just blackness. Sometimes, even dreaming can be exhausting, and after the night he had just spent with Jungkook, Jimin’s subconscious could spare not an ounce of energy towards it. He was entirely spent.
He slept like the dead, Jungkook anxiously cradling him in his arms while he watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. The sticky remains of their sex had dried leaving shiny strangely textured residue. It reminded Jungkook of a snail trail, scattered here, there, everywhere really, across both of their abdomens. He lazily traced the paths with his fingers.
The air was thick, not just from the heady scent their bodies had created together in the heat, but also from the dark energy that was slowly simmering in Jungkook’s belly. Reduced for the time being to a low boil rather than a gurgling cauldron like it was earlier, but Jungkook still lusted for Jimin’s body.
The fact that even after the best fucking sex he had ever experienced had finally come and gone more than two hours ago, Jungkook had expected to be sated at least long enough to get some sleep but instead, he was finding himself still painfully erect.
How could he not be? He had never seen anything in his life more magnificent than Jimin’s prone sleeping form, laying as if posed with a slender arm extended above his head, bent at the elbow to drape beautifully against the pillow. His hair, tousled with messy sexy clumps of its dark sharpness, was a stark contrast against the smooth paleness of his forehead. His lips were parted, just barely, having begun to return to a more subdued fullness.
You’d probably never guess by looking at this angel that he was capable of such debauchery, so perfectly sweet and soft.
Jungkook was wrapped around him, softly rutting into the side of Jimin’s thigh, left arm around his waist holding him. His body poised over the top of Jimin, putting all his weight on his elbow, hand cradling Jimin’s neck. He hovered over his Jimin possessively, not letting his vulnerable love out of his sight for a second.
Jimin remained undisturbed, unlikely to wake even if Jungkook flipped him over and onto his dick, well, maybe that might wake him after all.
That dark hunger wasn’t pure in any way shape or form, no matter how many times Jungkook told himself that his love for Jimin wasn’t about the sex. And maybe that was true, but his lust was indifferent to Jungkook’s love, and all it wanted was for him to give in already. Submit. Let him take over.
That was the nature of the dark energy that overwhelmed him, it wanted to reduce Jungkook into an animal. The one he was born to be.
Vampires don’t ask permission, they take it.
The sentiment tugged at the corners of his mind pushing him ever closer to something he would regret.
Ahh, now there was a feeling Jungkook could hold on to. The regret of hurting Jimin earlier with his impatience and need, the pain in every moan that was equal parts delicious and agonizing to Jungkook’s duplicitous thoughts.
“Fuuuuuck…” he moaned, drinking in the pleasurable guilty feeling at the memory. He pressed himself harder still against Jimin’s soft skin, the friction sending chills up his spine and heat to the pit of his stomach.
Jimin stirred ever so slightly at the increase of movement against his body. Fingers above his head twitching.
“Shhhh…” Jungkook whispered, soothingly, finally resting his head against the nape of Jimin’s neck, breathing into it for comfort, the sounds of his breathing reassuring. And yet never for a moment did he stop the persistent rutting of his hard cock against Jimin’s side, the two ends of his body operating independently, one part soft, the other hard, with wholly different intentions.
“Shhhhhhh…” Jungkook breathed again, eyes closed, this time it seemed a sound meant for himself. He sucked the side of Jimin’s neck into his mouth, drawing the blood to just under the surface of the skin. Swimming in his taste and scent, the kiss, and ownership of Jimin’s body, Jungkook came again against Jimin’s thigh.
The simmering darkness was reduced temporarily yet ever-present, and finally, Jungkook closed his eyes.
With their bodies and energies so wrapped together so tightly, you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, Jungkook was startled when he realized he was suddenly thrust into Jimin’s subconscious. Pulled from his own by that unseen current as soon as sleep took him. He hadn’t been in Jimin’s dreams before, not that he hadn’t been incredibly tempted. But these kinds of dreams weren’t like the typical. He wasn’t just an observer, he would be able to manipulate and interact creating an entirely new dream and one Jimin wasn’t likely to forget. It wasn’t a chance he had been willing to risk before tonight. Not before Jimin had let him in.
This wasn’t Jungkook’s doing. It was Jimin’s.
Letting him into his own mind before was something Jungkook had never tried and it seemed this was the aftereffect, realizing himself that the connection that they had established was forever changed by the exchange of energy. A doorway had formed between them and either simply had to open it for them to find each other.
“Jungkookie?” Jimin called out, sensing his presence. The dream was shapeless, having yet to take form. Jimin was still too exhausted to bother conjuring imagery.
Jungkook found him immediately in the darkness, finding each other's features in the shapelessness as only they themselves were whole. It was bleak, and perhaps could have been seen as unsettling, to dream of nothing, yet Jungkook was there in the flesh. It was at least as true as Jimin’s real life, where nothing felt real. He was numb to the world, going through the motions until Jungkook had become his everything.
“I think I was waiting for you?” Jimin said, quizzically, unsure of the truth.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Jungkook whispered sheepishly, the high of his shameless final climax against Jimin’s unknowing body still lingering regretfully.
“I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything but …earlier." Heat flooded Jimin's face at the admission. "I was so tired. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”
Jungkook reached out to hold Jimin’s face, having only seen it moments ago before he fell into unconsciousness, it still felt like too long since he had heard his voice and gazed into his eyes.
Jimin nuzzled into the touch, his hand coming up to meet Jungkook’s, weaving their fingers together for a few moments.
Despite both of their exhaustion, Jimin appeared unsoiled and refreshed, the true image of Jimin’s essence. A part of Jungkook was relieved, the reality of how fucked out Jimin’s sleeping body looked right now in his bed would be more than he could handle at the moment.
“Do you want it to just be us? I could fix it?” Jungkook asked him, flashing a look around at the absence of anything but each other in the darkness.
Jimin shook his head, catching his meaning. “I can hardly think straight,” he managed his voice a reminder of how his exhaustion was still present even in his dreams despite his appearance. “I only want to see you. Just you.”
Jimin looked content and blissful but Jungkook still felt anxious about his actions earlier. “Jimin, listen. I --” he started, big eyes turning on Jimin in their unintentionally disarming way.
"No, no, no," Jimin halted him coolly, holding a hand up to stop Jungkook before he could begin. “Let’s get something straight, right now.” The sassy edge in Jimin’s voice made Jungkook’s eyes even wider as it cut straight to the point. “I asked you to fuck me. I begged for it, so don’t give me those big sad eyes, worried about if you hurt me. I’m not a fuckdoll for just anyone, Jungkook. I can take care of myself. How do you think I managed to survive this long? I allowed you to wreck me, it’s not the other way around. I promise.”
Jungkook let a confused dazed expression overtake him, zoning out while he took maybe a moment too long to process. For starters, this bossy side to Jimin was unbearably sexy and he was thankful he was forgiven. Or rather that there was nothing to forgive. Jungkook knew it wouldn’t be easy to overcome the constant need for reassurance from him but it was a start. He would always struggle with how Jimin made him feel, and which parts of his being were allowed to participate in their relationship. It seemed impossible to ignore his nature, but giving in to it also meant maybe he would be losing himself in the process. He could never let it have full control at least not for too long.
“You’re only a fuckdoll for me?” Jungkook quipped, letting his own guilty conscience off the hook for now.
“Just for you, but I can be quite bossy, actually…” Jimin stated coyly, peering at Jungkook with a saucy look.
“I can’t wait," Jungkook grinned, a beaming boyish smile plastered across his face.
Jimin and Jungkook spent the rest of their unconscious hours together, corporeal bodies spent and distant from these moments but equally intertwined.
Kissing, always caressing and sometimes talking, laughing, or murmuring sweet musings of love in ultimate privacy. Finding comfort, and tenderness in each other’s embrace even in their dreams.