Work Text:
a wreck, a wreck you make
you leave, you leave me in your wake
oh honey, let me go
don't you ever let me go
AG - Terrible thing
Jungkook had always envisioned a different series of events. He had not really wanted any of this. Each turn of events that had led him to this point felt wrong, burdening him with a guilt that sat heavy in his chest.
Yet, whenever that remorse threatened to overwhelm him, another, colder, more unforgiving part of him would rise to silence it.
Jungkook had come to think of that voice as the Jimin within him.
How fitting, indeed.
But perhaps he should start from the beginning.
Minjeong was a successful businesswoman with a heart-shaped face and almond-shaped eyes that were a beautiful brown color. She was beautiful, and Jungkook liked beauty.
She attracted him magically. They were both about the same age—he was 45, she was 44—and when he asked her out on a date after they first met at a business meeting, she smiled so broadly that his heart sank into his stomach.
Things happened so quickly after that, but that didn't bother Jungkook. His friends, however, didn't look as thrilled as he felt when he told them about the planned wedding.
Jungkook and Minjeong had been together for two and a half months at that point.
But what did they know about the love Jungkook felt? Nothing. They looked at him strangely again when he told them he was moving in with her.
had a big house where she had raised her children, Jihoon and Jimin, when she was with her ex-husband.
Jihoon was a firefighter and already had a child of his own, while Jimin was studying mechanical engineering at university in Seoul and only came to visit during the semester breaks.
Neither brother had been present at their wedding, much to Jungkook's discomfort. However, his wife had convinced him that neither of them minded.
Hoseok called this 'red flags', Jungkook labelled it a 'difficult family situation'.
Jungkook had hardly spent any time in Minjeong's house himself, often inviting her to his spacious apartment instead. Nevertheless, it made sense to move in with her. She had much more space, and Jimin would still have the opportunity to return to his old home.
At least, that's what Jungkook thought. Minjeong didn't talk much about her sons, least of all Jimin.
Namjoon had told him that he was being unrealistic again. That was his specialty—projecting things onto people. Jungkook called it having a positive attitude towards life. He knew people well and could read them well. He stood by all his decisions.
Namjoon often called them delusions.
Needless to say, Jungkook didn't pay much attention to his old friend's advice.
When Jimin was scheduled to come home during his semester break, he lived with Minjeong for four weeks. His wife worked much more than he did, and he didn't mind.
Jungkook passed the time alone, doing his own job, reading books and comics, and putting his things away in the empty spaces he found around the house.
While Jihoon's room was already being used for other purposes, namely for Minjeong's 4 a.m. Pilates sessions alone, Jimin's room was still Jimin's.
The door was locked; Jungkook had tried to open it once. Internet memes were stuck to the door, which Jimin must have printed out, neatly cut out, and glued on.
There were also rainbow flags, some pictures Jungkook recognized from popular Yaoi series, and a rather lewd quote stuck in the middle of the door:
"I have zero interest in someone who thinks he's below me; I have every interest in someone who puts himself there."
Jungkook stared at that quote often. Something in it turned his head around, made him think.
He wondered if Jimin was one of those people who had read too much Fanfiction when they were a teenager, because he had been there.
Even if Fanfiction in his teenage years consisted mostly of zines on cheap paper that a kind soul had glued together and distributed for free during fan meet-ups.
In any case, that door made him curious. Minjeong didn't talk about Jimin often, and when she did, her words were strained, as if her vocal cords tried to hold something together that threatened to fall apart.
Jimin's beauty was the first thing Jungkook noticed. Cat eyes. Long lashes. Flushed cheeks. Freckles. And a wicked smile. This transformed Jimin from someone beautiful into someone who exuded effortless sensuality that was impossible to ignore.
Jungkook knew he shouldn't think of a 23-year-old like that, but he couldn't help it. He had to avert his gaze when Jimin's eyes fell on him.
"You must be Jungkook," he said. "Mother told me all about you. Sorry I couldn't come to your wedding."
Jimin had been on a study trip to England.
Jungkook tried to look at Jimin again, but his gaze slipped down to the faded blue jeans hugging his hips and the pink cropped hoodie bearing the word 'Barbie'.
Peeking out from between the seams of the jeans and the hoodie was the beginning of an Apollo's belt, which opened up a gate in Jungkook's mind that he had been desperately closing since he was a teenager.
When their eyes finally met, he felt caught. He offered a gentle smile.
"I'm glad to finally meet you. Your mother is still in a meeting, but she should be free in an hour or so. Would you like to eat dinner together?"
Jungkook gestured towards a pile of ingredients that he had bought that morning.
"I hope you like Jjajangmyeon. I thought I would make something simple."
Jimin's smile turned into a pout. He looked at the ingredients on the kitchen counter, then back at Jungkook.
"Unfortunately, I'm busy tonight," Jimin said.
"Thank you for the offer." He got his bag, which he had thrown on the floor when he came in.
"It's cute," he added, taking a slow step closer. His gaze was piercing, deliberate, as it traveled from Jungkook's face down to the ingredients and back up again.
His pout melted into a smile—something knowing, almost playful. "You, cooking for us. It's really cute."
Jungkook's cheeks grew hot for some reason. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
"Ah— okay. That's unfortunate. I hope you have a nice evening with your friends."
Jimin grinned at him, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.
"I'm sure I will. Thank you."
As he walked up the stairs, Jungkook tried to keep his gaze fixed on his hands. He heard the magical sound of a key turning and the click of the door closing, which Jungkook had been staring at for too long since he lived in this house.
He rubbed his bottom lip; it was a nervous habit of his. His mind was a bottomless pit of loose thoughts. Maybe he had dissociated for a moment.
Jungkook didn't really want to know.
Jimin left early in the evening, before his mother had the chance to greet him, and returned after they had gone to sleep. It seemed as if his stepson had not missed her.
He suspected that this sentiment was mutual. Minjeong had come home late, hectic and exhausted from work, but she hadn't asked about Jimin. She knew when he might arrive at home, yet she said nothing.
So it was just Jungkook and Jimin when they met again, far too early in the morning.
"Minjeong's already gone? Poor baby," Jimin said, reaching for the coffee mug Jungkook had just placed there for himself.
Baby. Jungkook scoffed internally. What made Jimin think he could call him baby? He was way older than the university student, way more experienced, and absolutely no baby at all. Jungkook was married to Jimin's mother.
Jimin took two big gulps of the milk coffee that Jungkook had already meticulously sweetened to his own taste.
Great start. Jimin was already getting on his nerves. Even though Jungkook had been determined to make an effort to get along well with his stepson, despite the looming feeling that his own wife didn't like Jimin.
Or at least she didn't make an effort to actually talk to her son.
Jimin set the mug back down on the counter, bracing himself against the polished wood. The T-shirt he was wearing was way too big for his frame, falling off his shoulders. Jungkook was annoyed at himself, his gaze too quick to focus on the exposed skin.
"I am no baby," Jungkook said while taking a new mug to get his daily dose of caffeine, "and I knew that your mother is busy working most of the time. That's why I am here. I thought we could get to know each other better."
Jungkook tried out the bright smile he had practiced in front of the bathroom mirror last night. He wanted to look as convincing as possible. He wanted this to work.
Jimin took another sip of coffee, his eyes fixed on Jungkook. His stepson's aggression puzzled him, as he had already noticed that Minjeong and Jimin didn't have a strong relationship. Regardless, Jungkook wanted to make an effort.
"Sorry, did I say baby? I meant daddy," Jimin replied, his face a polished mask of indifference. Jungkook choked on his coffee, spluttered, and coughed.
Placing the mug on the counter, he stared back. Unfortunately, not as indifferent, for sure.
He ran his hand over his face. "You don't have to call me that," he managed to say, his voice hoarse from his coffee and his stepson's remark, which had tightened something hot and unpleasant in his stomach.
"So, what about my offer to get to know each other? Do you like sports? We could go to the football field in the neighborhood, kick some balls."
Jungkook was committed to at least try.
Jimin took a step back, one side of his T-shirt staying off his shoulder, exposing the defined slope of his upper arm. A smug smile played around his mouth.
"I usually like kicking balls, but not on the football field," Jimin replied, causing the coffee Jungkook had choked down a minute earlier to rise back up as bile in his throat.
He was unable to reply, could only stare at Jimin as he took more steps back, that smile still playing around his lips. What—
"And while I would love to play with you, I'm not so sure you're open to that," Jimin added, his smile turning sinister. Jungkook's palms grew slick with sweat.
Jimin turned, walking up the stairs to his bedroom.
"Yet."
Jungkook wasn't sure if he'd actually heard that small word, or if he'd imagined it.
He shook his head—what was wrong with him? He had known Jimin for two days now and his emotions ran high, were chaotic, and if he didn't know better he would think that he's attracted to the son of his wife.
That couldn't be possible. He was already starring main character in his own love story, the one he had built up with Minjeong.
Jungkook hadn't seen his wife nearly enough. It was a shame.
Jimin was constantly haunting his mind, the things he had said to him. Jungkook wished he could let it go, but his brain had a habit of fixating on such things.
Beautiful people with lewd statements, with hints that Jungkook didn't want to think through because they touched something in him that was better left untouched.
To finally rid himself of these ridiculous thoughts, Jungkook decided to spend a romantic evening at home with Minjeong, and she had enthusiastically agreed to his plan.
He would take care of cooking dinner and decorating their space, while she would do her best to leave work a little earlier than usual.
Jimin and she had finally met three days after his stepson's return home.
Their reunion had been frosty, with Minjeong asking brief questions about his well-being and Jimin responding just as briefly before slipping out the front door.
Would he like to know what was going on between the two? Yes. Was his wife telling him, even after he had asked her gently a few times? No.
Jungkook decided it was not his place to solve their dispute; he had married Minjeong without her two sons being present in her life.
When he talked with Namjoon and Seokjin about these unresolved family matters he had stumbled into, both of his friends sighed several times before telling Jungkook that he had been naive in the first place, 'marrying a woman that he barely knew' (that had been Seokjin's words, not his own).
Jungkook decorated the dining room with flowers he had just bought, rolled out a cream-colored tablecloth he had found in one of the kitchen cabinets, and cooked spaghetti Bolognese, served with wine and candlelight.
Minjeong's almond-shaped eyes sparkled with delight in the candlelight. She excused herself briefly when she came home to freshen up.
She returned smelling of flowers, wearing a tight red dress that accentuated her curves. Around her neck she wore a necklace that Jungkook had gifted her on their second date.
She was a feast for the eyes. As they sat down and ate the freshly cooked meal, Jungkook realized once again how much he enjoyed talking to her.
(And how little they both actually did.)
They were finishing their plates of noodles when there was the sound of the door opening. Jimin's voice was heard almost immediately.
"Oh, how sweet," Jimin said with a grin. "Are you two actually having a romantic moment? I was wondering if this marriage was arranged."
Jimin dropped his backpack on the floor of the hallway and walked over to the table. "Don't worry, I won't be here for long. I just need to grab something from upstairs."
Minjeong looked at her son with pursed lips. Jimin gave her a mischievous grin. "Unless you want company for dessert."
Jungkook took a big sip of his wine. Minjeong just stared and stared at her son, face as cold as winter. Until Jimin turned around and walked away.
"Don't worry, Mother. You don't have to put up with me any longer than necessary."
There was silence. All that could be heard were Jimin's footsteps going up the stairs, the rustling of his backpack, and then, a few minutes later, the front door opening and closing.
Jungkook looked at his wife, one eyebrow raised. "Are you going to tell me what's going on now?"
Minjeong sighed loudly and turned the almost empty wine glass in her hand.
"I've just never liked Jimin. I can't explain it. Or maybe I can—he reminds me a lot of his father. He was always so mischievous, so reckless, and not in a good way."
Jungkook stared at his wife. "What do you mean?"
Minjeong sighed again. "He's just... too much. Intense. I don't like it. I prefer his brother."
Jungkook still couldn't understand what she meant. But Minjeong didn't look like she wanted to explain further. So he let it go.
"Can you do me a favour?" Minjeong asked as they both got ready for bed an hour later.
Although his wife had wanted sex, Jungkook hadn't been able to get himself up to it today, for once. Somehow, the whole thing with Jimin was weighing heavily on his mind.
"Yes?"
"Can you stay out of his way as much as possible?"
Jungkook raised both eyebrows. "But he's your son."
"Yes, and that's exactly why."
Such harsh words. Jungkook lay awake for a long time, racking his brains over Minjeong's strange relationship with Jimin, Jimin's behaviour towards Jungkook, and that damn door of his bedroom, that one full of stickers and cut-out paper that wouldn't leave his mind.
"I have zero interest in someone who thinks he's below me; I have every interest in someone who puts himself there."
Minjeong went on a business trip that would take a more than a week, shortly after their romantic dinner night which had left Jungkook questioning his wife and her relationships with her sons.
Her words ringing in his ears, Jungkook tried not to talk to Jimin much, although they met each other every day as they were both living in the same damn house.
Was he irritated by his wife's request? Yes. Because Jungkook was curious about Jimin, very much so. He tried to explain that curiosity away as a need to know and understand the circumstances and people around the life of his wife better.
Two days after Minjeong had left for her business meet-up in Japan, Jungkook was watching TV at night.
It was a Friday, and he had been asked by his friends to go out and check out a new bar that had just opened, but he refused. The workday had been tedious and annoying, and Jungkook's nerves had run thin.
So he spent the night on the sofa, drinking beer, watching a new drama one of his colleagues was fond of.
Jimin had been out and about for hours now, had left the house when Jungkook finished work at home, only shouting "Bye, Jungkook," while closing the door violently.
As if Jimin knew that his mother wanted Jungkook to stay away from him, he had been coming more often into his office since Minjeong had been gone, trying to chat.
The conversations were always light. Jimin asked him about his taste in music, about his work, and what Jungkook had been studying.
Jungkook liked talking with Jimin; it was easy. He had a tendency to tease, but it was light and fun, and Jungkook's wonder about the strained relationship between Minjeong and Jimin grew.
He was slowly dozing off on the sofa as he heard the front door open. Jimin.
The familiar sound of the front door closing again filtered into the living room, next to the sound of shuffling shoes that were untied and pushed to the clothing rack.
"Hey," Jungkook said loudly, his head still lying on the cushion of the sofa, trying to signal Jimin that he was still awake and at home. The rustling noises at the door stopped suddenly.
He didn't hear Jimin entering the living room, his feet quiet on the wooden floor.
"Oh, hi," Jimin said as he stood behind the armrest of the sofa. Jungkook turned his head and looked directly into Jimin's face, which towered above him.
"You're still awake," Jimin noted.
Jungkook rubbed his face wearily, "I should move to the bedroom, I almost fell asleep here."
Jimin hummed, watching him. The light in the living room was off; only the light from the TV was on. It bathed Jimin's delicate features in artificial light.
Their eyes met, and Jungkook's breath caught for a moment. Jimin looked at him in a way he couldn't quite describe.
Was it desire? He hardly dared to think the word. His cheeks were slightly reddened, and one could see the freckles on them. His pupils were dilated. Probably from alcohol.
Jimin smelled of cigarettes and beer, of the bar.
Jungkook wrinkled his nose. "You smell like a party."
A grin formed on Jimin's face. "Ah, yes. I met some old friends."
Jimin was always meeting old friends. He must have been popular.
"And yet you're home so early?" Jungkook asked, simply because he wanted to keep the conversation going. Strangely enough.
"Because you're here," Jimin said, and what had just taken Jungkook's breath away travelled down his spine. His whole body tingled. It was surely disgust and amazement.
Jimin still had that look on his face, as if he were—
"I don't want you to worry," Jimin added, defusing the gravity of what he had just said.
Jungkook opened his lips to reply that he wasn't worried, that Jimin could do whatever he wanted, that he was an adult and could handle himself. Jungkook didn't say any of that.
Instead, he just stared at Jimin staring at him. Somehow, there was a ball of heat in his belly, pressing. Somehow, Jimin's gaze turned even more heated, as well. The minutes trickled by.
Until Jimin leaned down, his face hovering above Jungkook's. Jungkook's breath caught again. "Why do you like my mom?"
Jungkook's mouth suddenly felt dry. "She's a great woman."
"Hmm," Jimin said, raising an eyebrow, "then why are you staring at me like that, thinking I don't notice?”
Jungkook's heart stopped for a second.
"What do you mean?" he asked. Jimin just stared at him.
"Like you want me. You do, don't you?"
He completely lost the ability to breathe. Jungkook wanted to gasp, but no sound came out of his lips.
He felt ice cold, then hot. Panic rose up inside him, and he couldn't make sense of it. What was Jimin talking about? That was slander. Jungkook didn't desire Jimin, not at all.
Not at all.
"I'm not gay," was the first thing he said, his head feeling like it was filled with cotton wool, and he couldn't even figure out why he said that instead of saying,"No, that's not true. What are you talking about? You're lying. Are you kidding me?"which would have been the wisest way to respond.
Jimin's grin turned into a tired smile.
"Ah, so that's the kind of person you are."
That didn't exactly help him feel better.
"I don't understand what you want from me," Jungkook said. He should sit up. But his body was stiff, and he lay there on the sofa, so heavy, and Jimin's gaze held him fast.
His breath smelled of the bar; it brushed his face. Somehow he liked it.
Jungkook was not in his right mind, he was—
Jimin's face leaned even closer, his lips now grazing Jungkook's forehead. He squinted, still trying to meet his eyes.
"I want you to be honest with yourself. At first, I thought you were crazy. Who marries my mother after only a few months of dating? But those are usually the types of guys my mother prefers. You do realize that you're her fifth husband, right?"
Jungkook swallowed. He wasn't interested in other people's pasts.
"But you're really nice, aren't you? Besides your good looks, my mother has actually managed to marry a decent man with a good character. She doesn't deserve that."
Jungkook didn't know what to say. The compliment about his looks and character didn't escape him, it only ignited the heat in his belly.
"Then there are these looks you give me. They're really interesting."
Jimin leaned down further until his lips touched his forehead. His lips sliding down the bridge of his nose to Jungkook's lips. They hovered just above his lips. A ghost of a kiss.
Jungkook was burning up.
"I want you to give in to what you want," Jimin whispered. The words danced across Jungkook's face. His cock was rock hard, straining his pants. Jungkook was ashamed of how his body was reacting.
Ashamed and completely overwhelmed.
Jimin's face suddenly disappeared from his view as he sat up again. Jimin had the audacity to wink at him.
"Good night, Jungkook."
Glancing at Jungkook's tent in his sweatpants, a smug grin formed on his face. Jungkook couldn't help but stare at Jimin's crotch, which also showed a bulge. Jimin turned around and left the living room.
Jungkook listened to his footsteps on the stairs, the opening and closing of his bedroom door.
Jimin left Jungkook in a state of utter shame and arousal. He had never been so aroused before.
He stared at the ceiling, debating internally whether he should just stick his hand in his pants to at least get some relief.
Jimin's expression wouldn't leave him, not even when he slipped his thumb over his cockhead, collecting pre-cum. Not when he sighed, louder than he usually would, in hopes that Jimin might hear him.
Not when he dug his toes into the sofa cushion beneath him as he rode out his orgasm, which had come embarrassingly fast.
Jimin's face didn't leave him, the smell of his breath against his own, the ghost of a touch against his lips.
Even after he cleaned himself, dressed in some comfy sleeping clothes and slipped into the cold bedding, he couldn't rid himself of the sheer want that he felt towards Jimin.
As if he had opened the gates to something sinister that Jungkook had been trying to ignore the moment he first laid eyes on his stepson.
Jungkook was in big trouble.
The next day, the atmosphere was tense and uncomfortable. Jungkook tried to avoid Jimin, but failed every time. Or was Jimin seeking him out? Unlike usual, Jimin didn't leave the house and return late at night.
Instead, the day after their conversation—the one Jungkook should never have had—Jimin stayed home. It seemed deliberate, as if he was waiting for opportunities to talk.
Or to challenge him? Jungkook couldn't explain it any other way. Jimin, who usually wore sweatpants and baggy T-shirts, came down the stairs wearing sleep shorts that barely covered anything and a worn tank top.
The shorts clung to his thick thighs and the fabric was so thin that it left little to the imagination. Jungkook was lost. His gaze lingered far too long on the expanse of bare skin.
Jimin raised an eyebrow when Jungkook's eyes finally made it back to his face. They'd been caught on the exposed skin at his hips, that strip of bare flesh between the waistband and shirt hem.
Jungkook did the only sane thing one could do in such circumstances and fled.
A university student had a grown ass man run from him. Jimin's body was lethal.
With only a muttered 'good morning' he ran past the stairs and disappeared into the garden with his steaming coffee. It was freezing that morning, especially as he was barefoot, and only wearing thin pyjamas.
He stubbornly sipped his coffee while staring at Minjeong's garden that no one tended to except an expensive gardener. The cold, at least, was real.
It anchored his racing thoughts to something physical, something he could actually feel. It quieted his racing thoughts.
To his luck, Jimin was nowhere to be seen when Jungkook stepped foot into the house again. That changed when he went into the bathroom, his clothes in hand as he wanted to take a shower.
As soon as he opened the bathroom door he was greeted with hot steam and a naked body in the shower right before him. Jimin had the audacity to not even act surprised.
He hummed, his eyes closed as water rained down on his torso, defined in all the right places. Jungkook salivated, then noticed that he was standing in an open door, eating Minjeong's son with his eyes and took a step back.
The door slammed shut, and Jungkook's heart was nearly bursting out of his chest. His cheeks red, his pulse quick, a tent in his pants. He sighed at the closed door.
Why was Minjeong's house so soundproof?
And why didn't Jimin lock the door?
The answer to that particular question lay on his tongue and Jungkook swallowed it down quickly.
The third incident nearly drove him insane. Lunchtime was quiet, but as the afternoon rolled in, Jimin suddenly strolled into his office. Jungkook had almost managed to distract himself and drown himself in work successfully.
A clearing of the throat brought him back from his work-induced stupor. To his surprise, he saw Jimin, dressed in another sinful outfit, standing in his doorway.
"What do you need?" Jungkook asked, trying to keep a straight face while memories of last night flooded his brain instantly.
Jimin smiled sweetly at him.
"You," he said, voice saccharine.
Jungkook nearly choked on his spit. His work forgotten on his desk before him.
"W—what?" he said, nearly a stammer, surprised, overwhelmed, everything in between. Had he spent a minute thinking of his wife today? No, and the instant guilt ate away at him.
"I mean— I need help with a project from a friend of mine. He needs photos for a collage. He's studying art and is collecting photos on a specific theme from our circle of friends. Unfortunately, he's not feeling well today and can't take the photos himself. I've tried to do it myself, but it doesn't look very good. Do you have a moment? It won't take long. Just three or four good photos and I'll leave you alone."
Jungkook stared at Jimin. "What are the photos about?"
"Innocence," said Jimin, looking the least innocent.
Especially in that oversized white button-down that kept slipping off his shoulder, worn with nothing but boxer briefs underneath. But Jungkook didn't have the strength (or the courage) to comment on this contradiction
He looked back at his laptop. He had actually finished all his tasks for today, faster than usual. He had just started looking for new work to distract himself.
Jungkook sighed.
"Okay, fine. What do I have to do?"
The smile on Jimin's lips grew, "Come downstairs."
Downstairs waited a camera that had been propped on the kitchen counter, and a lollipop that had been unwrapped already.
The candy was glazed with spit, resting on the packaging paper. Jimin stepped to the counter and separated the lollipop from its paper with a swift motion, separating the melted sugar that stuck to the paper.
"I really like this kitchen," Jimin said and put the lollipop into his mouth. Jungkook tried to focus on the task at hand—him taking a picture of Jimin—and not on Jimin's full lips that opened and closed around a rounded object.
"And think it will give the collage my friend has to make a nice touch, as our friend group tries to incorporate as many places as they can."
He nodded, taking the camera. He wanted to get this over with quickly.
Jungkook had no idea about art of this kind; he was still wondering what Jimin was supposed to convey with a lollipop, his open dress shirt as well as boxer briefs for supposed innocence.
But it wasn't his friend, it wasn't his art project, and he was just the husband of Jimin's mother, Minjeong, who wasn't there and wouldn't see that Jungkook had disregarded her wishes and gotten too close to her son.
Minjeong, whom Jungkook hardly thought about when everything that occupied his brain was right in front of him.
Jimin sucked loudly on the candy inside his mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with the lollipop. Jungkook shook the camera inside his hands while his body grew irritatingly hot.
"So, where do you want to be photographed?" he asked, his voice betraying his urgency to get this over with and escape from Jimin and his damn mouth. He even sounded annoyed.
Jimin raised an eyebrow and smiled around the candy. "Oh, you're so bossy."
His insides grew even hotter. Nothing about this was okay. Jimin was Minjeong's son. Jimin was far too young. This was wrong in so many ways.
Jungkook cursed his body, his mind, his life. As the heat below his belly button increased, he tried to think of something else entirely to avoid getting an erection in front of his stepson. Again.
"I just want to get back to work. I still have a lot to do today," Jungkook lied, holding the camera out to Jimin again. "So get ready. I'll do my best."
Jimin nodded, the lollipop slipping out of his mouth and brushing his lips. It left a wet trail of melted sugar and saliva on his full lips. Jungkook felt like he was going to die. His heart was beating wildly.
"Okay," Jimin said simply and smiled at him. He closed his eyes as he smiled, which made his face look even more beautiful.
His cheeks were round, and was he wearing blush? Jungkook was fascinated. Jimin's smile spread across his entire face and beamed. Suddenly, he looked so beautiful and pure that it took his breath away. Jungkook had to look away.
He held the camera lens to his eye and took a photo of the kitchen counter in front of him to get a feel for the camera in his hand. Jimin, in front of him, walked around the kitchen counter, a lollipop in his hand and his hips swaying.
He disappeared from his field of vision because he sat down on the floor. Jungkook walked around the counter to follow his stepson, his eyes glued to the image that unfolded before him as soon as he saw Jimin.
Jimin was lying on the floor with his head tilted towards him and his knees bent. His washed-out pink hair fanned out across the hardwood floor.
The lollipop dangled from his lips, the candy almost touching his mouth as it formed a perfect pout. He looked up at Jungkook through half-closed eyes.
Jungkook's feet stood firmly on the floor and his body was rigid. He still had the camera pressed to his face and was suddenly grateful for the partial shield it provided.
He made a special effort to keep his expression neutral. He pressed the shutter button. The camera clicked loudly in the quiet room. The first photo was taken.
Jimin let his legs fall open. Jungkook's eyes wandered along Jimin's upper body, down to his midsection and finally resting on his open legs. Maybe it was just his imagination, but there was a bulge slowly growing thicker in his pants.
Jungkook pressed the camera shutter again. Jimin closed his legs and eyes and played with the lollipop, his lips parted. He pressed messy kisses onto the candy. Jungkook's throat went dry. He pressed the shutter button again.
It was as if Jimin had bewitched him. They went through more poses, each one more wicked than the last, none of them innocent.
And Jungkook pressed the shutter button, his cock as hard as Jimin's and, strangely enough, he had no desire to flee the room. Jungkook held on to the camera in his hand, his head filled with only one thought:
"I want you."
Had he just said that out loud?
Jimin smiled radiantly at him, he had gotten up in the meantime, leaning his upper body over the kitchen counter, playing lasciviously with the lollipop in his mouth, which had already lost half of its original size.
Jungkook had sat down on the bar stool at the kitchen counter, directly opposite him.
"Really?" Jimin asked, but it wasn't a real question. This was a little game in which Jimin had the upper hand.
Jungkook swallowed the obvious yes in his mouth. Jimin was still smiling and slowly circled the kitchen counter. His hand found the camera that Jungkook was still holding protectively in front of his face and took it from his hand.
"Let me look at you." Jimin's voice was soft, almost tender, but his eyes cut straight through Jungkook. Sharp and predatory. How was it possible to be so beautiful and so dangerous at the same time?
So overwhelming? Jungkook was caught up in Jimin's game, in his entire personality.
He felt enchanted, had never felt this way before. He was frozen when Jimin sat on his lap, legs spread and eyes fixed on him.
Jungkook looked down at his crotch, where a full erection was brazenly visible. Jimin was well-endowed. This realisation made his face flush. He didn't know why.
(Deep down, he knew exactly why. It was because he often found himself lingering on the centre pages of the underwear models in magazines at the doctor's, which he then leafed through with red ears. Jungkook had just never been willing to think about it and dissect what he felt.)
Jungkook wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
Jimin moved his legs and shifted them awkwardly back and forth in his lap. His black painted nails dug into his thin shirt. It was all a show, and Jungkook was Jimin's entire audience.
Jungkook swallowed.
He was trying, trying so hard not to devour his damn stepson. The way Jimin towered over him, clad in his little outfit.
Jimin's lollipop was still nestled in between his glossy lips. He pursed his lips and lifted one hand to slowly pull it out of his mouth. The lollipop ran past his lips, pink on pink. Jungkook watched in horror.
This was all wrong. All wrong. Jimin wasn't supposed to sit sinfully in his lap and make eyes at him. And Jungkook shouldn't be giving him exactly that.
Jimin sucked on the pink candy. The smacking noises he made were obscene.
Jungkook's lips opened. He was enchanted. With difficulty, he suppressed a moan. Jimin pursed his lips further, the candy now almost falling from his full lips.
His cock was hard and pressed against Jimin's ass. Only separated by his thin boxer briefs and Jungkook's pants. His stepson moved around on his lap again.
Jungkook groaned. Jimin giggled.
"You're so cute," Jimin purred, waving the lollipop in front of his face, his lips glistening pink and sweet, "I wonder if you'll moan like that when I fuck you."
His cock grew even fatter in his pants. The blood rushed to his face, he could feel the heat. Jungkook felt ashamed that he hadn’t even put up a fight. Hadn't even lifted a finger.
How pathetic.
He was a starved man and Jimin was ripe fruit.
Or was it the other way around?
"Who—," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "who says you will fuck me?"
Jimin's face melted into amusement. "Hm," Jimin said playfully, "I think it's the way you're looking at my crotch today."
Jimin pushed the lollipop against Jungkook's lips. He opened them willingly, and Jimin pushed the head of the candy inside, "so that you lick your lips afterwards and don't even seem to notice."
Jungkook's face grew even hotter, the lollipop in his mouth tasted sweet, like artificial strawberry, and just like Jimin smelled, seductive.
Jimin's pupils grew as he watched Jungkook sucking on the candy before him, his fingers around the handle as he pushed the candy deeper inside Jungkook's mouth.
"And the way you look at me," Jimin murmured, "the way you look at me. It would be worth photographing. I doubt you've ever looked at anyone like that before. Is that why you fell for me so quickly? Are there desires you didn't dare to fulfill?"
The questions were hot and made him burn inside. But the worst thing was that the truth just flowed out of them. Jungkook closed his eyes. Maybe everything had turned out so badly because he had never admitted to himself what he was into.
He opened his eyes. Jimin looked at him like a starving man. Jungkook liked it way too much.
"I can fulfill all your wishes," Jimin whispered, "you just have to say the word."
Jungkook didn't even know how to articulate what he was feeling. He only knew that he wanted Jimin, that he was literally consumed by him.
And that it was incredibly wrong, more wrong than anything else in his life had ever been. Jimin should stay away from him.
He was far too old for the man on his lap. And then there was Minjeong. Jungkook was a mixture of desire and longing and deep shame, and they were mutually dependent.
"This is all wrong," he whispered, but made no move to push the man off his lap. Jimin's expression darkened.
"But don't you like that?"
He indeed liked it.
"I—" he couldn't say it.
Jimin pulled the lollipop from Jungkook's mouth, then slowly slid it back between his own lips.
Jimin seemed bored by his hesitancy as he wiggled free from Jungkook's lap. He stood before him with his legs closed, his straining cock visible through his thin boxer briefs.
Jimin took a long look at Jungkook's bulge, his gaze meeting Jungkook's again. He pressed a quick kiss against Jungkook's lips, which left him reeling—the brief physical contact was unexpected.
"I'll wait for you to say it," said Jimin, taking a step back. "I love the chase, the wait. You're doing me a favour, actually. But please, don't wait until my mother is back. Things tend to get difficult when she is here and notices that something is different."
With that, he turned around and walked away. Jungkook remained on the barstool, his mind racing. Did Jimin think he could fuck Jungkook out of his system?
He wasn't sure about that. He felt like he was growing more obsessed with every encounter they had. His lips burned. Jungkook wanted it to spread through his body until he was nothing but heat and want.
"So, let me get this straight," said Namjoon, spreading his arms wide and gesturing wildly. If there was one thing Jungkook loved about his good friend, it was his sharp wit and loyal friendship.
If there was one thing he dreaded, it was his booming voice, which always attracted all the attention in the area.
Especially in this place.
"You have a crush on your stepson?"
Jungkook sighed and buried his face in his hands. He could feel the familiar heat creeping up his cheeks again, blood rushing to his face in that telltale way.
Groaning, he peeked through his fingers at Namjoon, who was staring at him as if questioning whether his friend had completely lost it.
"Kind of," he replied quietly. Namjoon leaned closer over the table, almost knocking over his glass of whisky. "You have to speak louder, I can’t hear you," he yelled.
Jungkook glanced around nervously. If he allowed his paranoia to take hold, he would be convinced that everyone in the bar area of the club was watching him.
"I," he began, clearing his throat and slowly lowering his hands from his face. The moment Namjoon saw his reddened cheeks, his eyebrows shot up.
"I honestly have no idea how that could have happened, either."
"Didn't you marry Minjeong just seven months ago?"
Jungkook nodded, the redness on his cheeks deepening. His face must have looked like a tomato topped with black curls.
"Minjeong is great," he replied defensively.
Namjoon continued to look at him suspiciously.
"But her son is better?"
Jungkook looked down at the table in front of him. The wood was worn and scratched. His glass of wine was almost empty. He should order another one.
He emptied the glass in one gulp. Rolled the words around in his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
Jungkook sighed and ran his hand over his face.
"Jimin is—he is—"
Namjoon waited for him to finish his sentence.
"Seductive."
That made his old friend down his glass of whiskey in one gulp. "Babe," Namjoon said, shaking his head, "you're forty-five years old. How old is this kid?"
Jungkook swallowed. His mouth had gone dry.
"Twenty-three," he squeaked. It was as if he had a frog lodged in his throat—or rather, his entire pride. Jungkook had stuffed what remained of his dignity deep into his windpipe, choking on his embarrassment.
"You sound like one of those old guys who hang out in this club to pick up young dudes," said Namjoon.
"I mean, if you'd met him on the street, I wouldn't care, but he's your wife's son. How seductive can a guy be for you to want to hook up with him against all reason?"
Jungkook bit his lip. He couldn't explain Jimin. You had to experience him to understand. Namjoon would surely face the same struggle. Jimin unlocked something in him that he couldn't quite name.
Besides, he wanted to be seduced by Jimin somehow. He didn't dare say that out loud. He had already dug himself into a conversational hole and was lying at the bottom of it.
"Okay, okay," Namjoon said, noticing his friend's struggle.
"Tell me what makes you think hooking up is even a possibility. What exactly is Jimin doing that has you—the guy who always swore he was straight by the way—sitting here telling me he wants to sleep with a man 22 years younger?"
As if on cue, before Jungkook had time to respond, the object of his desire appeared at the entrance to the bar. Jimin wore tight-fitting leather pants that clung to his hips and sculpted thighs like a second skin.
A lilac shirt, tucked neatly into the waistband. Pink hair styled back to perfection.
Jungkook opened his mouth and closed it again. Then panic suddenly seized him. He ducked behind his empty wine glass, his head bowed.
"There he is,"he hissed, staring at the worn tabletop, "there's Jimin."
He didn't see Namjoon turn slightly to take a look. But he suddenly heard him gasp.
"Oh, now I understand," said his old friend, "this is really something."
Jungkook bit his lip.
"And now he's coming straight towards us."
Panicked, Jungkook looked up and immediately locked eyes with Jimin. The familiar feeling hit him again, like a trapped animal in a cage. There was no escape.
"Hi, Daddy," Jimin said, mocking him, leaning between them on the edge of the table. "I didn't know you liked going to gay bars."
Jungkook remembered what he had said to him. I'm not gay. Yeah, the joke was on him, Jungkook thought. His whole life felt like one big joke at the moment.
Instead of quickly finding a way out to set everything right again, he was digging himself deeper into a dark, endless pit of trouble.
"Hi, Jimin," he said, sitting up straight in his chair. It was too late to hide now. He looked into his stepson's face, his far too beautiful, overwhelming face, and there was that undeniable attraction between them again, which took his breath (and his sanity) away.
"I'm here with my good friend, Namjoon," he said, gesturing to his old friend. Namjoon smiled charmingly at Jimin, his dimples appearing.
Jimin gave Namjoon a flirtatious look, playfully took a strand of hair that had fallen into his face and twirled it around his index finger. "Hi, big guy."
Namjoon's smile deepened. Jungkook was suddenly overcome with jealousy.
Jimin was his.
Jungkook was in deeper trouble than he had thought.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked quickly, almost tripping over his words.
Jimin's gaze slid from Namjoon to Jungkook. "Are you treating me?" Jungkook nodded, making a move to get up. But Namjoon beat him to it. He raised a hand and said, "Stop. I'll treat you both. And then I'll head home. I was about to leave anyway."
Jungkook gave his friend an irritated look. That wasn't typical of him at all. Normally, Jungkook was the one who always left first. But his old friend just looked at him.
"I'll walk you to the bar," Jungkook said as Jimin sat down. "I'll be right back." Jimin smiled at them both and then pulled out his cell phone.
"What's going on?" Jungkook whispered as soon as they reached the bar, "why are you leaving us alone?"
Why are you leaving me alone with Jimin?
"I love you, my friend, but I'd rather not watch what's going on between you and that pretty boy back there escalate as a bystander."
Jungkook opened his mouth, the blush of shame already creeping up his neck, but Namjoon held up a hand and looked at him seriously and at the same time so warmly.
"I'm going to tell you something and I don't want you to comment on it, okay?"
Jungkook closed his mouth and nodded.
"I've always been waiting for you to tell us one day that you're not as straight as you've always said. Seriously, Jungkook, you've emphasized that so softly your whole life, it was always suspicious. I've always wanted you to be able to explore that part of yourself in a safe environment, if you ever decided to."
Namjoon smiled sadly, "But that doesn't seem to be the case here. Anyway, I want to tell you that it's okay to be attracted to men. I mean—you know, you have a whole group of queer people as your friends. What's not okay is cheating on others, and if this continues, you'll inevitably do that. We weren't fans of Minjeong, and I still am not, but try not to ruin the life you have built, okay?"
Jungkook nodded, the blush now reaching his face. His friend's words touched him where it hurt the most. Right in the heart. Jungkook felt hot and cold at the same time, his fingers sweaty.
"Be sure that I—and Hoseok and Seokjin too—are always here to listen, okay?"
Jungkook nodded again. Namjoon smiled again and took the two beers the bartender had placed on the counter and pressed them into Jungkook's hand.
"And now—good luck with whatever you're getting yourself into."
With those words, Namjoon disappeared into the crowd, his hand raised, waving to Jimin behind him. Jungkook swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.
His friends had always been there for him, and they would continue to be there for him in the future, no matter what mess Jungkook got himself into.
He turned around with a swing and ran straight towards Jimin, who was watching him with interest, his eyes scanning Jungkook's body. The warmth on his face stayed as he sat down, placing the beer in front of Jimin.
"So," Jungkook said, all thoughts vanishing as he noticed that he was alone with Jimin in a gay bar.
"So," Jimin repeated, taking a sip of his beer. Jungkook watched with fascination as Jimin's lips closed around the bottle's neck, the way he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Every little thing the other man was doing was attractive to Jungkook.
He had never felt that attracted to anyone in his life.
It scared him.
Jungkook picked up a beer mat from the table and fiddled with it between his fingers. He didn't really know what to say.
So much had gone unsaid between them, yet so much had also been said—enough to make his face redden, and enough to stir the shame and guilt he always felt alongside his burning desire for Jimin.
"My friends always say I build castles in the air, that I read too much into people," Jungkook said. The words bubbled out of him without much thought.
Jimin leaned across the table, and Jungkook caught the scent of his perfume. Jimin smelled wicked, sweet and intoxicating, clinging to Jungkook and consuming him. It suited Jimin.
"And I wonder if I do that with you, too," he continued. His gaze dropped to his fingers, which had dismantled the beer coaster into its individual parts.
"Would you tell me something about yourself? So that I can get to know you, instead of just wanting to."
He looked up at Jimin, who was looking at him for the first time with a gentleness that made his stomach warm and his limbs go soft.
"Of course," Jimin replied seriously, sitting up straight and interlacing his fingers on the table. "But only if you tell me more about yourself."
And so they talked. Jimin told him about his studies in Seoul and how much he missed Busan. He had danced professionally as a teenager, but his mother had eventually forbidden it, saying that it "didn't suit their family".
Jungkook learned a few things about Minjeong—stories that made his chest tighten uncomfortably. Jimin told him about his mother's string of relationships with men who always tried to play the role of father.
Once, Jimin had fallen in love with one of his mother's ex-boyfriends, which caused a complete breakdown in their relationship. Jungkook had to swallow hard at this point, his thoughts turning to what had already happened between them.
Jimin told him about his friends back in Busan and his hopes for the future: to return and create something meaningful with them.
Jungkook shared stories from his time at school, the early jobs he'd had and hated, and the pets he'd had and still missed dearly. He wanted a dog someday.
Then, with more difficulty, he admitted that he had always struggled with his sexuality, that he was not at peace with it and that acknowledging his attraction to men was like pulling teeth. Even though his entire circle of friends was queer.
The more they drank, the looser their tongues became. Jungkook and Jimin were only slightly tipsy, but their conversation, which had been so easy, slipped into dangerous territory the moment Jungkook admitted that Jimin scared him.
"Oh?" Jimin leaned closer. At some point during the night, they had drifted towards each other across the table. The bar was crowded, but neither of them seemed to notice.
"Why do I scare you?"
"You're—" Jungkook stumbled around his words, "the obvious thing between us," Jungkook explained, pointing at him first and then at Jimin, "this—"
"Attraction," Jimin finished his sentence. The corners of his mouth pulled upwards into a smug smile. "Yes, I definitely feel that too." Jimin rubbed his thumb over the neck of his empty beer bottle. "Do you want to look into that?"
He whispered the last part of the question. Jungkook leaned closer to hear him. The bar was loud, and the later it got, the more people poured in, talking and drinking.
Jungkook shouldn't do any of this: he shouldn't desire Jimin, he shouldn't sit here with him for hours getting to know him, he shouldn't jerk off hoping he heard him, he shouldn't tell him he wanted him, he shouldn't look at him the way he looked at him, he shouldn't. He shouldn't. He shouldn't.
He should not.
"Can we go home?" he asked, quietly and Jimin's gaze turned into liquid fire.
"Let's go," the younger said. When they left the bar, his small hand held Jungkook's tightly in his grip, walking him outside the bar, calling a cab.
Jimin's hand still held Jungkook's tightly as they ran up the stairs and through Jimin's mysterious door. Jungkook looked around as Jimin let go of him, standing in the middle of the room.
Some old posters and cut-out photos were hanging on the walls, showing Jimin at different ages. There was a desk in one corner with an old office chair, and a large bed in the other corner with unfolded black bedding.
Jimin's wardrobe consisted of his open suitcase and two clothes rails.
The intimacy of it all was overwhelming.
Jungkook looked down at Jimin's face.
"Welcome to my bedroom," Jimin whispered softly, stepping towards Jungkook. With practiced hands, Jimin helped Jungkook out of his jacket, throwing it carelessly over his office chair.
"Do you do this often?" Jungkook asked, trying to joke as he felt his nerves slowly spiralling out of control.
What was he doing?
Minjeong won't be here for another three days.
Jimin was Minjeong's son.
Jungkook was freshly married.
He wasn't a cheater.
Jimin grinned at him. "Aren't you the older guy? You should be the more experienced one," Jimin replied and flipped against Jungkook's chin playfully.
"Look at me."
Jungkook stared at Jimin's beautiful face. At freckles and long lashes.
"From our conversation today, I gather that you have never slept with a man?"
Jungkook swallowed. He shook his head, "No. I slept with two guys in the past. Ages ago."
That was his little secret. He had never told anyone. It happened in university, two times when he had been drunk, not like now, where he felt tipsy but nothing more.
He was well aware of what he did and couldn't blame the yearning he felt on the amount of alcohol he had drunk.
"So, so," Jimin said, a brief wave of surprise on his face that vanished all too soon, "so you're familiar with this."
With this, he meant them, here, in that bedroom, standing too close to each other. Jungkook could smell Jimin's cologne, the faint scent of the bar they had been to.
He had turned on a small lamp next to his bedside, and the moon provided light through the tall window next to it.
The light refracted in Jimin's brown eyes. Jungkook watched in rapt fascination as Jimin's eyes drew closer. Then his own fluttered shut as Jimin's lips met his.
The kiss started gently, but then, perhaps stirred by the nature of their encounter, it became more demanding. Jimin's tongue swept into Jungkook's mouth as he parted his lips willingly and eagerly.
A groan rumbled from Jimin's throat; it was raw and possessive. His fingers dug into Jungkook's shoulders, hard enough to bruise. Jungkook surrendered to it, letting it happen, Jimin's taste consuming all his senses.
He had never felt so small as he stood there in the middle of Jimin's bedroom, holding a much younger man in his arms who was almost devouring him.
Jungkook groaned as Jimin sank his teeth into his lower lip.
"I wanted to kiss you the moment I first saw you," Jimin whispered, his lips wet. Jungkook was already hard, his cock pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.
Jimin moved closer to him, his lips brushing Jungkook's earlobe.
"Tell me you want me," he whispered.
Jungkook opened his eyes. "I want you."
Iwantyouiwantyouiwantyouiwantyou—
Jimin pulled him closer, burying his hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. His fingers dug into the back of his head. Although Jimin looked soft, he was anything but.
He ground his erection against Jungkook's thigh. Jungkook moaned into Jimin's mouth as their lips met again.
It was just lips, tongue, teeth and breath. Jimin pulled himself impossibly closer, as if his body wanted to melt into Jungkook's. His sighs against his lips were sweet torture.
They grew insatiable quickly, in a hurry. Soon, he ground his cock against Jimin's hipbone. Both men were rutting against each other, just divided by their clothes.
They had to lie down.
Jimin had the same thought as he broke away from Jungkook. Jungkook sighed, sad by the loss. He wanted to have Jimin's mouth against his own forever.
"Bed. Now."
Jungkook stared at the man in front of him. His stepson, mind you. The worst part was that the situation they were both in was so perverse that it turned him on even more, and he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Jimin stared him down, even though he had raised his head slightly to look up at him. Jungkook obeyed the command and sat down on the bed in front of him.
His legs were slightly spread because his cock was so uncomfortable in his jeans.
Jimin's gaze fell down his middle. "I want you to take off your pants," Jimin said, still wearing that knowing look, mouth curved in barely suppressed amusement. He loved Jungkook's submission.
Jungkook couldn't find the strength to resist. He wanted—he wanted so badly to be wanted. So badly that it was eating away at him. He unzipped his pants and shimmied out of his jeans. He was wearing only plain gray boxer briefs, a convenience store brand. And suddenly he felt embarrassed by his older body. Jimin was twenty-two years younger than him.
Jimin's skin was clear and soft, plump. Jungkook's was a little saggy, especially on his stomach, and he had stretch marks on his thighs. He exercised a lot and had a good build. But his skin—it was the biggest sign of his age, besides the gray strands in his black hair, which he had tied up in a bun tonight.
Jimin also unfastened his pants, ripping them from his body as he casually cast them onto the floor beside him. Then he peeled off his shirt in the same way.
Next came his socks, and then Jimin stood there almost naked in front of Jungkook, his obvious erection covered only by the thin fabric of his black slip that didn't leave anything to his imagination.
Jungkook devoured the man in front of him with his eyes. Jimin's sun-kissed skin was flawless. Fine hairs on his chest and thighs and under his armpits.
His obviously well-trained body made Jungkook's mouth go dry. His Apollo's belt was just begging to have his tongue wet it.
Jungkook's gaze traced the lines of Jimin's thighs, watching how the muscle flexed beneath smooth skin.
His eyes rested on the middle of his body, his parched mouth beginning to water at the prospect of seeing, tasting, touching another man's cock. Jimin's cock.
"Oh baby," Jimin said then, stepping closer to him, between his open legs. "You look at me so hungry." His fingers danced along Jungkook's cheek that had run hot with the pet name.
Jungkook was starved.
Jimin's index finger slid along the bridge of his nose and stopped at Jungkook's lips.
He forced it between his lips with pressure, which Jungkook now willingly opened. Jimin's finger slid along his tongue, nudging his teeth.
He felt along the inside of his cheek and pushed deeper and deeper until Jungkook choked. His mouth was now full of saliva, which stuck to the corners of his mouth. Wet for something else to sink into. Jungkook opened his mouth more, his tongue lolling out.
"I want you to fuck my throat," he said, his voice hoarse and so needy. It was embarrassing. The hot red on his cheeks deepened, wandering down his throat to his chest.
Jimin grinned at him, hooking his fingers at the seam of his slip and sliding the black cotton down. His erect cock sprang free, red at the tip. Jungkook took a deep breath; his mind was reeling.
Jimin smelled so good. The perfume mixed with his own bodily scent, one that Jungkook couldn't find the words for to describe.
Desperate, Jungkook lowered his head and took Jimin's cock into his mouth. He had never done this before. He opened his mouth, letting the tip of Jimin's cock slide inside, and tried to remember how he liked it himself.
He pressed his tongue against the tip and opened his mouth wider to take Jimin completely inside his mouth.
Jimin moaned loudly above him, his hand finding Jungkook's hair to hold on to.
Jungkook took Jimin deeper into his mouth until the tip touched the back of his throat. Jungkook gagged, letting the cock slip out of his mouth with a splutter. Strings of saliva followed the movement.
Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Jimin's fingers brushed them away. A soft sound escaped his throat. "Nah nah, who's going to cry? Take me back into your mouth. You're doing great."
Spurred on by these words, Jungkook willingly took Jimin back into his mouth and tried to establish a rhythm. Bobbing his head slowly, he reached down and touched Jimin's balls. He ran his fingers along the sensitive skin, and his jaw muscles moved as he tried to take Jimin as deep as possible again.
Jimin barely moved in response, simply letting Jungkook get on with it. He ran his fingers through Jungkook's sweaty hair and whispered how sexy he was. Jimin's moans were music to Jungkook's ears.
Still, this was far from a proper throat fuck. Jungkook let Jimin's cock slip out of his mouth with a plop. His lips were sore and his jaw hurt.
"Why won't you fuck my throat?" he asked, whiny.
Jimin watched him through half-lidded eyes, pupils so dilated they appeared black.
Jimin took Jungkook's face in his hands. "I'll fuck your throat another time, okay baby? I want to give you some attention too."
He stroked his cheeks, his lips. Jungkook nodded. He couldn't help but feel inadequate, as if he had done something wrong to not earn the throat-fucking he wanted.
Jimin dropped to his knees in front of him, his hands sliding down his torso to Jungkook's boxer briefs. "Come on, let me see you," Jimin said softly as he played with the hem of his underwear.
didn't need to be told twice: with trembling hands, he freed himself from his underwear, pushing it down his legs.
Jimin's gaze was fire on his skin. He took Jungkook's cock between two fingers before sliding his lips along its shaft without warning. Jungkook gasped. He slid his butt back to make more room for the man in front of him.
Jimin licked and sucked along his cock until he reached the tip and kissed it. Pre-cum dribbled out in response, milky pearls catching on Jimin's lower lip. Jungkook threw his head back. He had to hold himself back from coming right away with that sight.
That restraint didn't last for long. Jimin took his cock into his mouth again, one hand sliding knowingly to his balls, dancing playfully over them before it disappeared.
Jungkook couldn't help himself and let out a loud moan. He had never made such loud noise before.
His gaze slid back between his legs. Jimin's pink hair fell into his face, his eyes fixed on him as he took his cock all the way into his mouth. Loud sucking noises, along with Jimin's swallowed-up moans and loud groans, filled the room.
Jungkook fell back as Jimin's finger slid along his perineum.
When the tip of Jimin's finger sank into him, Jungkook came with a shout into Jimin's mouth.
Jimin was not fazed, his gaze fixed on Jungkook's shaken frame as he let his limp cock fall from his mouth. But his finger remained relentless.
He slowly pushed his finger deeper and deeper into Jungkook until it was completely inside him. Jungkook tried to breathe calmly, his gaze wandering to the ceiling.
Did he want to stop? No, he thought, closing his eyes. He wanted this, as reprehensible as it was.
"You're so pliant," Jimin said softly, his finger slowly sliding in and out, "you open yourself up so well for me."
A blush of shame rose to his chest. Jungkook bit his lower lip. All desire spilled out.
"I want you to fuck me. I want it so bad."
Jimin's laughter sounded like a bell.
"Oh, I will, daddy," he replied, the word 'daddy' ringing mockingly inside his ears.
A second finger followed. Jungkook opened his lips, steadying his breath. He sighed when Jimin started crooking his fingers. Jimin's lips landed on his abdomen, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin there. His lips pressing onto the skin that Jungkook found saggy, making love to the stretch marks on his hip bones. Jungkook's cock stirred with interest.
"No refractory period? Never thought you would have it in you," Jimin commented, and Jungkook's hand flew to his face to cover it. He was horny out of his mind.
"Don't," Jungkook said. Jimin chuckled and pressed a third finger inside him. It hurt, but in a good way.
"You're so sexy," Jimin whispered. The embarrassment only grew, next to another big feeling that spread inside his chest, something Jungkook deliberately ignored.
Jimin pressed a hot kiss to Jungkook's cockhead, rising from his knees to roam around his bedside table, fingers still inside Jungkook.
He pulled out a bottle of lube, his thumb opening the cap. Jimin pressed another kiss on Jungkook's stomach, below his belly button. Then he slowly slid his fingers out of Jungkook.
He felt empty, and he didn't like it. Jungkook slid around on Jimin's bed until he had made enough room for him to join.
Jimin watched him, amused. "You'd better turn around. I don't plan on hurting you today."
Today.So there would be a next time? Jungkook turned around and pressed his face into the bedding beneath him.
He heard Jimin close the bottle of lube again, and the creaking of the bed and the extra weight he felt next to him indicated that Jimin was getting closer. His lower legs brushed against Jungkook's as he positioned himself behind him.
"Don't hide," Jimin ordered gently, and Jungkook pulled his head back to rest his cheek on the bed instead. His braid had come undone, and his black hair spilled over his back and onto the pillow beneath him.
He looked back as Jimin positioned himself, his cock wet with lube. As the tip of his cock passed his rim, Jungkook closed his eyes.
Jimin had opened him up well. He buried himself inside Jungkook with one swift move of his hips against his ass. Jungkook moaned, his cock straining against the bedding beneath him. He couldn't resist moving one hand to his groin and grasping his cock. His other hand was buried in the pillow beside him.
The familiar detergent that everyone in this house used rose to his nose. Jungkook didn't want to think too much anymore; he wanted to feel. He concentrated on Jimin's thick cock in his ass, on the way it filled him up.
It ached, and yet it was such a beautiful ache. There was so much heat building up in his abdomen.
Jimin groaned as he pulled out, only to thrust back in with even more force. The slapping sound echoed in his ears. Jungkook opened his eyes and tried to find Jimin's face.
The younger man's face was pure ecstasy. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his lips were parted. The tip of his tongue touched his lower lip. A blush spread on his cheeks.
Jimin slowly increased the pace. He snapped his hips more violently, his hand spreading along Jungkook's hips. Leaving bruises in their wake. Jungkook sighed, words tumbling out of his mouth.
"So deep," he muttered. "I— I love it."
Jimin moaned even louder behind him. His upper body fell on Jungkook's back, their sweat-covered chests rubbing together. Jimin was so warm on top of him, his breath hot against his ear. Jimin's fingers slid into Jungkook's hair, tugging at it playfully.
"My cockslut," Jimin whispered hoarsely in his ear.
Jungkook could only reply with a desperate moan, his lips falling open. Jimin pushed him deeper and deeper into the mattress. Saliva ran from his lips.
Jimin found the spot that made Jungkook shatter with every thrust. His breathing became faster and more irregular. Jungkook increased the pressure of his hand on his cock.
As Jungkook came, he arched his back, pressing even closer to Jimin's chest. The younger bit into his shoulder as he followed him a few thrusts later.
With a guttural groan, Jimin spilled himself into Jungkook. His heart raced as he felt Jimin drop his weight onto his back. His own heart raced in unison.
It took him minutes to regain his composure. Jimin's arms wrapped around him, and only reluctantly did the younger man let go of him and pull out of him.
He felt Jimin's cum dripping out of his rim. It filled him with even more heat. Jimin pressed a kiss to his face, a smile at his lips.
Jungkook knew, in that moment, that nothing would ever be the same.
The three days before Minjeong came back flew by. Jungkook spent most of them either in bed with Jimin or on his knees on the kitchen floor, living room floor, or even bathroom floor.
Once, he was lying on the sofa and Jimin's tongue went so deep inside him that he couldn't walk properly after.
And then, suddenly, after hours of passion and little food and even less sleep, the day came when Minjeong returned and Jungkook woke up alone in his wife's house.
Jimin had taken everything he had brought home weeks ago with him. There was no open suitcase any longer lying at the floor in his bedroom. No laughter ringing in Jungkook's ears at the kitchen counter. No open-mouthed kisses against his cheeks.
In addition, Jimin had taken Jungkook's sanity with him. Jungkook was no longer the same.
He could only smile wearily when his wife came home and threw her arms around his neck. Her perfume gave him a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to sleep with her that night, even if she wanted to.
Hours earlier, he had scrubbed Jimin off his skin so hard that it was left red and irritated.
Jungkook couldn't stay at this house anymore. That night, sleepless, his feet walked to Jimin's door as if by themselves and opened it quietly.
With trembling fingers, he stroked Jimin's bedding. As he stepped to the window and watched the moon shining down on him cheerfully, unconcerned with Jungkook's devastation and inner turmoil, his gaze fell on Jimin's desk.
And lo and behold—a letter that he hadn't noticed was lying there in the open.
Addressed to "Daddy"—crossed out, with "Baby" written underneath in shaky letters. Two small hearts scribbled next to it.
Jungkook opened the paper, almost tearing it in two with excitement. There wasn't much on the white paper except one question:
"See you next summer?"
Jungkook swallowed. He turned the paper over and there was something else written there.
"Or are you coming to get me?"
Jungkook closed his eyes. He pressed the paper against his lips. He imagined he could smell Jimin's perfume.
A little later, he quietly closed Jimin's door and walked back to his marital bed. He stared at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't coming, and Jungkook's mind raced in a race he could not win.
The next morning, Jungkook sat at the kitchen table, the ring on his finger a shackle.
Minjeong said something—he saw her lips move, heard the rhythm of her voice—but the words dissolved before they reached him. All he could think about was Jimin. The look in his eyes in the last few days before he left, dark and longing and oh so hungry. The taste that still lingered on Jungkook's tongue.
"Are you even listening to me?" Minjeong asked, one eyebrow raised. Looking too much like her son. The thought brought him physical pain.
He looked up. Blinked. "Sorry, I—work. I have to go to the office today."
The lie came more easily than it should have. His small carry-on suitcase was already packed and stowed in his car.
He grabbed his keys before Minjeong could respond, before the guilt tearing at his chest could pin him to the spot.
His hands trembled as he unlocked the car, and he gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He took the ring from his finger and threw it into the glove compartment. He sighed.
His phone was buzzing with texts from his friends, probably worried.
This was crazy. Reckless. He had a life here—a wife, a home, stability. He had wholeheartedly chosen this just a few months ago.
Jimin's brown eyes, his smitten laugh and his grin appeared in his mind. Someone impossible to forget. He started the engine.
He was going to leave Minjeong.
This marriage hadn't even lasted a whole year. The guilt was there. It was sharp and persistent and it wasn't enough. His desire for Jimin eclipsed everything else. He had turned Jungkook into a madman.
Jimin had gotten under his skin, into his bloodstream, and Jungkook couldn't breathe properly when they were apart.
The drive to Seoul flew by. Traffic lights, other cars, his music playing softly as rainy clouds passed by. All of it was just background noise to his thundering heart.
He had to see him. Now. He had to feel Jimin's hands on him again, he needed confirmation that it wasn't just in his head, that Jimin felt it too—this all-consuming, catastrophic feeling between them.
Jungkook drove into the parking lot, turned off the engine, and sat there for a moment, his chest rising and falling.
There was no turning back now.