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🎆🎇🎆
“What are your plans for this New Year’s Eve?”
It is a simple question. The simplest of questions, but somehow Jimin’s heart flips a few times inside his chest. If that question had been asked two weeks ago, he would have said that his plans involved going to a club with his friends. The whole gang—well, most of the gang—all six of them together, getting drunk on the worst alcohol possible and making even worse decisions. Those plans from two weeks ago seemed like the best idea at the time.
But now…
“Nothing much,” is how he answers. Which is a lie. The plans are still up—or at least they were until three minutes ago, before his phone rang. Because now that it did, now that he’s just got the news, a change of plans is the only thing he can think of. “Probably just hang around at home.”
“Alone? On New Year’s Eve?” Yoongi snorts through the phone. Jimin could bet his left hand that he’s smirking, brows raised in disbelief. “Who are you and what did you do with my Jiminie?”
See, that’s the whole fucking problem.
Yoongi will say horrible things like “my Jiminie” when, in reality, Jimin isn’t his. Not quite. Not yet. Not in the way Jimin wants to be, at least, but that Yoongi has no clue about. The fact is, whenever Yoongi refers to Jimin as his, Jimin’s heart doesn’t simply skip a beat—it goes completely still until the reality check hits him right back.
But Jimin doesn’t say anything to Yoongi. All he does is chuckle back, shaking his head. “What are you going to do? Are you even landing before midnight?”
“I’ll land around ten, if nothing changes. Hopefully.” Yoongi sighs. “I’m not doing anything, though. I don’t think I’ll make it back to my flat before midnight. I bet the traffic will be horrible, so there’s no point in planning anything.”
Jimin hums. He’s been poking at his cuticles ever since the call started, and now he’s chewing on his lower lip as well. There’s a weird feeling in his stomach, it’s jumping and flipping and clenching, and his heart is funny, too. Of course it is. The four years he spent without seeing Yoongi had been the worst for him. He missed his hyung every single day, missed how they used to do everything together, how they would always sit next to one another during the gang’s gathering, how they would lean against each other when the booze had been too much and they got sleepy and clingy.
Never had Jimin ever imagined that Yoongi would be coming back home for New Year’s Eve.
Yoongi’s been studying music abroad, in the States. Jimin watches his every story on Instagram and his TikTok videos, too. He keeps track of everything Yoongi does, because most of the time that’s the only way for him to know what’s going on. With their time zones being so different and with how busy Yoongi’s life has become, it was already a victory when they managed a call once every fortnight.
Jimin wants to ask him. He wants to be brave and invite him to do something, but he’s so afraid. Also, if Yoongi does get to Seoul before midnight, he’ll probably want to hang out with the gang in a club, right? He wouldn’t want to do something boring with Jimin.
The problem with Jimin is that sometimes, while his brain is thinking about one thing, his mouth is speaking another. “Want to come over to my house then?” he blurts unexpectedly, although he should’ve known he’d mess something up. He closes his eyes and grimaces, cursing himself in at least three different languages in his own brain.
“Ah, I forgot you bought an apartment!” Yoongi says instead of answering his question—which, to Jimin, is very much an answer, too. “My Jiminie is all grown up!”
Jimin giggles, but it lacks humor. “Yes, I’m grown up, alright.”
Yoongi hums, and for a moment there’s only silence on the line. Jimin keeps poking his cuticles, staring at the same spot on the wall, questioning his life choices ever since he picked up the call. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he should’ve just kept up with the plan and, well, if Yoongi is late for partying, then that’s on him. Maybe he should take everything back and pretend nothing happens.
Yeah, that would perfectly do.
“You know what—”
“I’d love to go to your place,” Yoongi says at the same time, and Jimin instantly shuts up. With a dropped jaw though, because, even though Yoongi and him are very close, he didn’t think he would actually agree to this after such a long flight on New Year’s Eve. “I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”
“I—” he stops himself. What was he going to say? Certainly not that they should forget about it. “Nevermind. I’m glad you’re coming! I’ll buy us some booze and will try to cook and—”
“Hey, Jiminie, don’t set the whole place on fire before I can see it!” Yoongi jokes with another snort, and this time, when Jimin laughs, it’s actually with intention. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be happy just to see you.”
“Okay!” Jimin nods with what seems to be a permanent smile on his face. “See you then!”
🎆🎇🎆
“Can I ask you a favor?” Jimin asked with a small, low voice.
He is in Seokjin’s kitchen, clumsy chopping garlic while Seokjin is filleting a salmon. At the question, the older man looks at him with a suspicious cocked brow. “What did you do?”
“What?”
“If you killed someone and need to bury a body that’s on Jungkook and Taehyung, not me,” he states, pointing at Jimin with his knife. “Maybe Namjoon, if you need extra muscles. Or Hobi, cause we know exactly how to clean up the mess.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Jimin denies with a laugh.
“I know I’m good at chopping things, but— Oh. Okay. Thank God.” Seokjin whistles with an exhale. “What do you need then?”
Jimin furrows his brows. “Why would you think I killed someone, hyung?”
Seokjin just shrugs. “No reason, you’re such a calm person. The calmest.”
“Right…” Jimin rolls his eyes, fondly though. “So… I don’t know if you know this yet, but… Yoongi-hyung is coming back.”
Jimin studies Seokjin’s expression at the announcement, observing as the man’s eyes go slightly wider and the way his lips stretch into a knowing smile. In the next second, he’s back to normal. “Oh?”
“Yeah, and— And I wanted to ask you a stupid favor. Two, actually!”
“Aish, two favors? What do I look like, a genie?”
“You might as well be.” Jimin nudges him on the shoulder. “These are favors you can help me with. Nothing that will give you trouble.”
Seokjin hums. “I’m listening, Minie.”
“So, I kind of fucked up?” He chuckles humorlessly. “Hyung asked me if I was doing anything tonight and I said no, then I… I may have invited him over?”
“Oh?” Seokjin stops filleting the fish and looks at Jimin, who’s back to biting his lip. “How is that a fuck up?”
“I just— I wanted to ask you if maybe you could not mention that we had plans already. And maybe you could also not invite him to the party. Although he surely is on the plane already, so he won’t be able to call, but maybe if he texts?”
There’s a funny look on Seokjin's face—one that Jimin doesn’t know how to decipher, and he doesn’t really try that hard. The older man sighs, cleaning his hand on the cloth by the sink before reaching for Jimin’s head, ruffling his blond hair and making a mess out of it.
“Ah, Jiminie. To be young and in love!” He coos.
“I’m not—”
“Nah, don’t lie to me. I know love when I see it, especially when it blooms in one of my best friends.” There’s a different glint in his eyes, Jimin notices, when he sees it. Like he’s proud and emotional about the whole thing, and Jimin can’t help but relax under his gaze. “Hyung’s got you. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Jinie-hyung,” Jimin says, smiling softly at the man.
“Now, what’s the second wish?” he asks, his voice going up an octave in a playful tone. “Jinie-hyung will help you.”
For this one, though, Jimin is pretty sure he’ll get fish thrown in his face. It’s one thing asking for Seokjin to lie on his behalf, for the sake of love—Jin’s a great liar and he prides himself on it. But it is a whole other thing to ask Seokjin what Jimin’s about to ask.
He braces himself. “Can I steal one of your already cooked, certainly delicious dishes and take it home with me?”
🎆🎇🎆
Jimin checks the time on the wall again for the millionth time in the last ten minutes. It is still 22:45.
Yoong should’ve had landed fourty-five minutes ago. He should’ve texted Jimin to tell him he was on the ground, and still—there’s nothing. Yoongi’s been radio silent since yesterday, when he boarded the plane. Jimin opens their chat again to stare at the last five messages he sent, all of them asking if Yoongi’s okay, where is he, if he’s already on the ground. The last one was sent ten minutes ago, saying “are you still coming?”
Jimin isn’t sure anymore.
He knows flights can be delayed and canceled, but Yoongi would’ve told him that if that was the case. He also knows he should expect at least an hour of travel from Incheon Airport to Seoul, and that’s on a normal day. Although, Jimin is pretty sure Yoongi is taking one of the AREX options. He looks at the clock again.
22:46.
He growls, throwing himself on the couch and shaking his legs in a fit. He’s so desperate, so anxious! This is the moment he has waited for the most, even though he didn’t know about it. And still—
His phone dings.
Yoongichi: Sorry for ghosting you, Jiminie.
Yoongichi: My phone died and just know it charged a bit on the express.
Yoongichi: I just got off at the station. Will be there in ten.
Jimin almost combusts.
Ten minutes is long enough to spray his house with a soothing scent he bought in a perfume store earlier today, it’s time enough for him to go to the bathroom and check himself in the mirror again, retouching his lip balm and adjusting his hair, it’s time enough to pre-heat the oven to reheat the stuffed fish Seokjin gave him after cursing him, and it’s time enough for him to freak the hell out.
It’s only when he can hear soft knocks on his door that he feels like he might actually pass out.
He inhales a great deal of oxygen before opening the door.
And he instantly loses his breath.
Yoongi is stunning. Jimin already knew by watching his videos that he has grown his hair out, locks falling in long, curly waves, adorning his beautifully sculpted face. There’s a compelling itch on the tip of Jimin’s fingers, almost unbearable, to reach out and touch his hair, to measure just how soft they are—and they look really soft. He just barely manages to hold back.
“Why are you looking at me jaw-dropped?” Yoongi’s voice travels to Jimin’s ears, and it’s so different hearing him in person than hearing him over the phone, the bad connection due to the distance. Jimin just then understands what Yoongi said and shuts his mouth, swallowing pathetically.
“Sorry, I just— I missed you, hyung,” he says finally, still holding the door open.
Yoongi doesn’t waste another second, immediately placing his large hands on Jimin’s small waist, pulling him into a hug. Even though they’re the same height, Jimin feels towered over by him. Jimin wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck, pressing together on him and breathing in the scent of his perfume, feeling the older’s arms hugging him tightly.
“I missed you too, my Jiminie,” he whispers in Jimin's hair. “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”
“I can’t believe you’re here either,” Jimin says. He breathes in one more time before finally letting go, pulling back enough to stare at Yoongi’s feline gaze, but without withdrawing his arms from his shoulders. “What happened? Why are you back?”
“It’s done,” Yoongi announces with a grin. “I've finally graduated.”
“What?”
“I know, right?” Yoongi chuckles, fingers brushing on Jimin’s waist above the shirt. “Time flew.”
Time most definitely didn’t fly, not to Jimin, at least.
“So… You’re not going back?”
“I am, but only to get some paperwork done and ship all my belongings back to Seoul. And then, that’s it.”
Jimin’s heart skips another beat, the prospect of having his hyung back again being too much to take, so he just throws himself on Yoongi again, giving the man another tight hug before pulling away. “Oh God,” he exclaims suddenly, eyes going wide. “Please come in. I’m sorry, I just got so—”
“It’s okay.” Yoongi laughs, following Jimin inside. Once the door is closed, Yoongi takes off his coat, leaving it on Jimin’s hanger.
“I got us champagne and Jin-hyung’s food!” Jimin announces, going to the kitchen to grab the champagne bottle from his fridge.
“Good to know you followed my advice and didn’t burn the place down,” Yoongi mocks him, holding the glasses that were on the table while Jimin opens the champagne.
“Hey, I can cook just fine, okay!” The popping sound of the champagne echoes in the kitchen. Jimin fills the glasses, storing the bottle in the fridge again before accepting the one Yoongi is offering him. “I just didn’t want to mess this up for you.”
“You could serve me dog shit and I would still love it,” Yoongi says. “Anything from my Jiminie would be great.”
“Don’t be silly,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “Now, let's toast!”
“An early toast, huh? It’s far from midnight,” Yoongi mentions, checking the clock on the wall. “What’s the toast for?”
Jimin looks down to his own glass, watching the bubbles bursting inside. It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Well, at least it should be, given how happy Jimin is. But maybe not that obvious for someone who only sees him as a friend, a maknae that can’t even cook for himself.
His voice comes out quietly and sheepishly when he answers. “It’s because you’re here again,” he murmurs, still not looking up. He sees Yoongi’s feet shifting though, but then man doesn’t say anything, so Jimin tries to cover up what he really meant. “And because you’re a musician now! That’s something to celebrate!”
“Yes,” Yoongi says, nodding slowly, gaze fixed on Jimin’s. “Let’s celebrate.”
They cheer and take a sip of the liquid, Jimin hums to the flavor. “That’s tasty,” he says. Then, tilting his head to the side, he asks. “How were things in the US?”
“Busy,” Yoongi says with a sigh. “Constant input of information. My teachers expected a lot of us, so there was basically no rest. If I wasn’t studying, I was practicing an instrument or singing.”
“Or recording,” Jimin adds with a giggle.
“Or recording,” Yoongi agrees. “I see you kept track of my stuff.”
“Of course I did!” Jimin exclaims, a tone of disbelief tinging his words. “I had just lost my favorite hyung to the world, the least I could do was keep track of your progress.”
“You didn’t lose me, Jiminie,” Yoongi corrects him. He reaches over, but refrains at the last second, pulling back again. “How were things for you, though?”
Jimin shifts, taking another sip of his drink. He traps his lower lip with his tongue, wetting it for a while before speaking. “Like I said, I lost my favorite hyung,” he repeats. “It was hard. I mean, I had lots of fun with the gang, but it was hard. Getting there every time and realizing you weren’t coming, I—” Jimin pauses. He takes another sip, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze at all costs. “I missed you a lot, and all I had was three minute videos to look at.”
Silence.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything. Jimin keeps looking away, staring at the oven that’s still in preheat mode, the yellow light coming from it and showing nothing inside. Jimin worries at his lips, because Yoongi is still quiet and Jimin regrets. He regrets having said anything, ever since the beginning. He regrets lying about having no plans and inviting him over. He regrets asking Seokjin to lie for him too. He regrets saying what he just said, knowing that Yoongi is not stupid to not have realized that Jimin hasn’t been in love with him since the beginning.
Because Yoongi knows. Of course he knows.
He knows that Jimin is wholeheartedly in love with him ever since they met, he knows he always wants to sit next to Yoongi because that’s all he could ever have. He knows Jimin gets clingy when he’s drunk not because he’s drunk, but because he’s in love and can’t hide it. And he knows Yoongi indulges him in it all because he’s too good of a friend, good enough that he doesn’t want to let Jimin down. He doesn’t want to hurt him by rejecting him.
So he gives him crumbles of affection that Jimin will gladly take, because that’s all he can have.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Yoongi breaks the silence after what seems like forever. Jimin risks glancing at him, but averts his gaze again, nodding. “Those four years have been the worst of my whole life.”
That has Jimin’s attention. He snaps his gaze to Yoongi, because what does he mean by that? He had the most amazing experience living abroad, his stories, his posts, everything shows the exact opposite of what he’s saying. “What? Why?”
“Because you weren’t there with me.” Yoongi licks his lips, and Jimin can’t help but follow the movement. “Every time something good was happening, the first person I turned to was you. Only this time, you weren’t there.”
“W— What?”
“I knew what I was leaving behind when I decided to go,” Yoongi explains, taking a step forward. “A boring job. My family. Five friends. One love.” Another step closer to Jimin, who can’t really rationalize what’s happening. “The hardest thing I had to do in that airport was say goodbye to you, not knowing if you would still be here for me when I came back. Thinking of the uncountable number of times I had the chance to kiss you, to tell you I love you, but let it slide because I was too afraid of misreading you, of ruining our friendship.”
Yoongi finally reaches over to Jimin, but this time he doesn’t pull back. He holds his hand gently, just the tip of their fingers touching, but even that slight contact makes Jimin’s skin crawl with fire. He looks at their hands gingerly touching, then back to Yoongi whose eyes seem to shine differently, a whole new intensity with whole new colors that Jimin can’t help but get lost in them.
“I’m still here,” Jimin murmurs at last, wetting his lips and relishing in what he feels by watching Yoongi following the movement. “I waited for you.”
What happens next is a mix of emotions and definitely a blur in Jimin’s memory—not because of the champagne, but because he was so high in dopamine. Yoongi pulls him closer by the hand, but quickly lets go of it to hold Jimin’s waist instead. His other hand goes up to cup Jimin’s cheek, and after a gentle brush with his thumb on Jimin’s plump lips, he kisses him.
It’s slow at first, tentative, like two best friends testing new, uncharted waters. Jimin doesn’t really know what to do with his own hands, a bit in shock with everything that’s happening, so he leaves them hanging next to his body for the first couple of minutes. But when he feels Yoongi’s tongue darting out and licking over his own lips, Jimin loses it completely.
Throwing his hands over Yoongi’s shoulders, Jimin pulls him closer while opening his mouth, inviting Yoongi’s tongue in and licking inside his mouth, too. Jimin kisses him with such a passion that he didn’t know he had in himself, and he’s even more surprised to feel the same coming from Yoongi. A late kiss, one that should have happened years ago, but, as it seems, both of them had been stupid enough to hold back all this time.
Soon enough, Yoongi’s fingers that are in Jimin’s waist tease under the hem of Jimin’s shirt, and the new feeling is like throwing gasoline into the fire. Jimin can’t help himself but to press their bodies together, unable to hold back a breathy moan that escapes his mouth when he feels the man chubbing up against his crotch.
“Yoongi,” he breathes between kisses, fingers finding their way to Yoongi’s hair and tangling themselves in there—and oh how soft it is!
“Hm?” Yoongi hums. He slows down his kisses, turning them into soft pecks against Jimin’s lips. “What is it, baby?”
Jimin’s brain shuts down and he almost melts at the petname. “I wanna show you my room,” he says slowly then, without a doubt in his voice.
Yoongi stops, staring at Jimin with his feline, but soft eyes. “Are you sure?”
Jimin doesn’t reply. Instead, he places another soft kiss on Yoongi's lips, holding his hand and guiding him towards his room.
Thank God Jimin had the great idea to pick up his dirty clothes and make his bed, too. He imagined that he would eventually show his room to Yoongi, even though he didn’t think they would end up here for this specific reason.
“So… This is my room,” he says sheepishly, looking around. A sudden wave of embarrassment hits him while he sits on the bed, pulling Yoongi with him. “And this is my bed.”
“It’s a very comfortable bed,” Yoongi points out, a menacing smirk pulling at his lips.
“Wait ‘til you lay down.” Jimin smirks too, pulling Yoongi closer again.
They resume the kiss, this time with less reservation and more passion, more suppressed desire put into it. The kiss is sloppy, tongues wrestling against each other for dominance. Jimin’s fingers are quick to find the hem of Yoongi’s t-shirt, pulling it up and up and up until they have no other option but to break the kiss to get rid of the fabric. When the piece of clothing is on the floor, Yoongi dives back into Jimin’s neck, spreading kisses and little nips while unbuttoning his shirt.
His kisses keep diving down and down as the shirt is open, falling back from Jimin’s shoulder. “Lay down for me, baby?” Yoongi asks, with a look in his eyes that makes Jimin think he would never use the word no for him.
As Jimin lies down, Yoongi climbs on top of him, his mouth going straight to one of his nipples. Jimin moans, involuntarily arching his back, the wet, but warm feeling of Yoongi’s mouth driving him insane while the man rubs a thumb on his other nipple.
He’s hard already, cock pulsing with every flick of tongue Yoongi gives on his nipples, and he can feel that Yoongi is just as hard as he is when he presses his crotch against him again. Jimin can’t help but slide a hand between them, feeling Yoongi’s bulge over his jeans, getting a delicious moan in response. He pulls Yoongi’s hair with his other hand, guiding the man back upwards, so Jimin can touch him more comfortably. They’re kissing again whilst Jimin’s fingers work Yoongi’s jeans open, his short nails dragging teasingly against the skin just above his underwear.
When Jimin’s hand dives inside, Yoongi shivers above him. His small fingers curl around Yoongi’s length, giving it a squeeze that steals another grunt from Yoongi.
“Jiminie,” he breathes, pulling away from Jimin’s lips.
“Yes, hyung?” Jimin says in a raspy voice, looking up from his lashes at Yoongi..
“How do you want to do this?”
“I switch,” he answers. “Do you have a preference?”
“I switch too,” Yoongi says, placing a kiss on Jimin’s jaw. “But I want to be inside you today. Is that okay?”
“Will you take care of me?” he asks simply, voice slurred and soft.
Yoongi has no hesitations when he replies, “Always, my Jiminie.”
Jimin hums. “There’s lube in the first drawer of the bathroom,” he says. “Go get it for us?”
Yoongi hums, doing what Jimin told him. While his hyung is in the bathroom, Jimin gets rid of his jeans and underwear, sitting on the edge of the bed to wait for Yoongi. When Yoongi’s back in the room, he stands still for a minute in front of the bed, staring at Jimin’s naked body.
“You’re beautiful,” he lets out, approaching him carefully, like Jimin is a pup that might get scared off. He places a hand on Jimin’s cheek, thumb dragging his bottom lip down. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
Jimin leans into the touch, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he busies himself with pulling Yoongi’s jeans and underwear down, licking his lips with pure hunger when Yoongi’s cock bounces free from the confines of the fabric, glistening with precum at Jimin. Yoongi kicks his clothes away and puts the lube on the bed, and Jimin takes him in his hand again.
He pumps Yoongi’s cock a few times, torn between looking at it or at the man above him. Before he can contain himself—and he wouldn’t have wanted to be contained anyway—he brings his face closer, pressing a ginger kiss to the tip of Yoongi’s cock.
Yoongi hisses. “Jimin-ah…” he trails off, exhaling sharply.
Jimin smirks, looking up at him at the same time he opens his mouth just a little bit, enough to give his cock a wet peck, enough to have a taste of his precum. Yoongi hisses again, closing his eyes at the feeling, his hand moving to the back of Jimin’s head. Jimin does it again, but this time, he opens his mouth further, taking a little bit more of his cock, and proceeds to do the same thing until he has Yoongi’s entire cockhead inside his mouth, suckling on it with a pop.
“Fuck,” Yoongi rasps, tightening his grip on Jimin’s hair. Jimin swallows him whole at this, bobbing his head on his cock. He hollows his cheek and tightens his throat, feeling his cockhead hitting the back of his throat as he sucks. Then, there’s a harder tug in his hair and he pulls back almost completely, leaving only the cockhead inside his mouth. “Lay back, baby,” Yoongi croaks, voice raspy. “Let me take care of you.”
Jimin’s eyes darken as he does what Yoongi says. Yoongi works his way between Jimin’s legs, hands roaming over Jimin’s thighs and spreading him open for him. “God, you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs again, staring at Jimin’s middle.
“You already said that.” Jimin chuckles.
“And I’ll say it many times more,” Yoongi promises. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes.”
Yoongi nods at this, grabbing the bottle of lube back, opening it and coating his fingers with the slick content. He leans down, kissing Jimin again, his finger teasing at Jimin’s hole without pushing in. Jimin tugs at his hair as he arches on Yoongi again, the mere touch on his hole already burning him inside out. He’s almost about to beg when Yoongi finally sinks a finger in, and Jimin lets out a moan, unafraid of being heard this time. He arches more and more into Yoongi’s touch, rocking his hips against his finger.
“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks with a small kiss on the corner of Jimin’s mouth.
“Y—Yes,” Jimin stutters, feeling the way Yoongi sinks his finger only to withdraw it afterwards. “I want more.”
At the request, Yoongi pulls back completely, lining up two of his fingers together and pushing in slowly. Jimin freezes, open-mouthed and eyes staring lost at the ceiling. Yoongi keeps his fingers still for a moment, and only when Jimin breathes out again, he begins to move. Jimin’s about to lose his mind, lost in the feeling of being finger fucked by Yoongi, something he wished so long for and thought would never be possible.
Yoongi goes deep, scissoring Jimin’s hole until it stretches around his fingers. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“I’m great,” Jimin says, pulling Yoongi close to kiss him again. Their kiss is sloppy and wet, and Jimin bites Yoongi’s lower lip at the end, tugging it with him. “More.”
And Yoongi doesn’t let him down.
Once more, he pulls his fingers back to line up with a third, finding more resistance this time when trying to sink in. Jimin gasps and moans, rocking his hips against Yoongi’s fingers, doing his part to be filled by them.
“Fuck!” Jimin exclaims, back arching as he closes his eyes. “Hyung, I think—Maybe you should stop and just—”
“Are you feeling good already, baby?” Yoongi murmurs against Jimin’s ear, the brush of his lips sending goosebumps on the younger’s skin. Jimin can’t say anything other than another pathetic groan. “Do you want me to fill you up real good?”
“Y—Yes,” Jimin murmurs, eyes fixed on Yoongi’s. “Yes, please, I want you—”
“Fine.” Yoongi pulls his fingers out, mindlessly cleaning them on Jimin’s bedsheet before grabbing the bottle of lube again. He coats his cock with it, balancing himself in one arm while lining himself up with Jimin’s entrance, hooded eyes scanning Jimin’s expression. He teases Jimin first, dragging his cock along Jimin’s crack, letting only his cockhead sink in before pulling back and dragging it along the middle of Jimin’s ass cheeks again. “Are you ready, baby?”
“I’m ready,” Jimin says, wrapping his legs around Yoongi’s waist. “Please, hyung, I’m—ah!”
Yoongi sinks slowly, taking his time to fully stretch Jimin with his cock. Jimin though… From the moment Yoongi starts, his eyes roll back and he goes stiff on the bed, unable to move or breathe—not out of pain; out of pleasure.
Yoongi’s cock is big and thick and it fills Jimin just nicely, like it was made perfectly for him. When Yoongi bottoms out, he stays there for a moment, giving Jimin time to adjust to him. Jimin keeps his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, eyes closed and head tilted back, while Yoongi spreads soft kisses around his neck and chest. It’s only when Jimin’s hand goes back to Yoongi’s head, pulling slightly at his hair, that Yoongi begins to move.
It starts slowly, tentatively, just like the kiss they shared in the kitchen. As the moments pass though, Yoongi’s speed increases, and Jimin’s moans get louder. His hips work with Yoongi’s, which only makes the feeling more intense.
“Fuck, Jimin,” Yoongi grunts against Jimin’s lips, running a hand over Jimin’s side, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
Jimin doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have the strength to, with how much love and wanton he’s filled with. He’s waited so long to be this close to Yoongi, this connected, that now that they’re finally here it almost seems unreal, like a dream. As if trying to prove to himself that this is happening, he presses Yoongi closer with his legs though, nails leaving a mark on Yoongi’s back as he drags them.
They’re fucking frantically now, chasing each other’s pleasure like nothing else exists in the world. Jimin’s lower belly starts to twirl, a growing sensation creeping up on him from his toes to his temples, almost unbearable.
“Hyung, I’m—I’m close,” he slurs, voice cracking with another moan. “I’m—”
Yoongi shifts on the bed, changing his weight from one arm to another. With his now free arm, he reaches down between them, holding Jimin’s cock in his hand and stroking it at the same pace of his thrusts. He presses his thumb on Jimin’s slit, yanking a whimper from the younger.
Keeping on his ministrations and his thrusts, building up that delicious tension that has Jimin babbling nonsense, Yoongi groans, “Come for me, baby.”
And the tension snaps, as if it was just waiting for Yoongi’s permission. Jimin spills all over his belly, coating Yoongi’s fingers with cum, clenching around his dick with such intensity that drives Yoong over the edge. He comes inside Jimin, coating his walls with a warm white. They stay frozen in the same position for a while, both of them unable to move. Yoongi’s face is hidden in Jimin’s neck, smelling his perfume mixed with post-sex sweat, giving soft kisses in the crook of his neck, while Jimin finally, finally cards his fingers along Yoongi’s dark long locks.
As if on cue, fireworks begin to pop outside Jimin’s apartment, the colorful explosions casting colorful lights in the room. Jimin cracks up, laughing at the timing, and Yoongi follows suit, because what else is he supposed to do?
“Happy New Year,” Jimin says with a hoarse voice, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“Happy New Year,” Yoongi replies, lifting his face from Jimin’s neck to look at him, at his fucked out face. “My beautiful Jiminie.”
“Yes,” Jimin agrees, nodding. “Yours.”
Yoongi snorts, leaning down to kiss Jimin. A deep, albeit slow kiss, one that’s not rushed and afraid of being missed again. Now, they don’t have to worry about missed opportunities or long-distance phone calls. They can enjoy each other’s company whenever they want.
“I’m so glad you agreed to come tonight,” Jimin admits.
Yoongi snorts. “I’m so glad you lied to me about having no plans,” he states. At this information, Jimin raises his head slightly, almost bumping their foreheads together. He stares at Yoongi both with surprise and confusion.
“Wh—”
“I called Jin-hyung before I called you, silly,” Yoongi explains, propping himself on his elbows so they can properly look at each other without hitting their foreheads. “He invited me to the club. I asked if you were going, and he said yes. I planned on kissing you at midnight tonight.” He snorts again. “But then there you were, feigning being low profile and ‘Oh I’m so not going anywhere tonight’,” Yoongi impersonates, receiving a soft punch on the shoulder as response. “That wrecked my plans and I thought to myself: well, fuck. But then you invited me over and…”
“And we fucked,” Jimin completes, winking coyly at Yoongi, who breaks into laughter.
“Yeah. And we fucked,” he agrees.
“Don’t ever go away from me again, hyung,” Jimin says then, voice breaking a little bit at the end. “I can’t lose you again.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly, brushing their noses together. “For as long as you want me near you. I’m yours, Jiminie.”
Jimin closes the distance between them, another long-awaited, very desired kiss that has them both feeling butterflies in their stomachs, this time with the fireworks as the soundtrack and the exciting prospect of what the New Year will bring to them in the future.