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To be an enigma was to be blessed by the moon.
Jeongguk heard this said every time he was told each of the stories growing up, which was often after dinner and around the campfire. He’d wiggle himself into the puppy pile with Yugyeom and Eunwoo, as the older kids would share—often exaggerated versions of—stories that they’d heard from the pack elders.
Enigmas were the Goddess’ chosen, wolves born once across several generations with enough strength to defend their packs single-handedly and pheromones powerful enough to bring even the strongest alpha to their knees. They were protectors, leaders, conquerors, and proof that they had not been abandoned by their maker.
Wars had been fought over them, or because of them, and bloodlines responsible for birthing an enigma were heralded and protected for the possibility alone that another might one day be born from them. Their houses were always towards the middle of the territory and they always received the most courting gifts. From all designations and from more than just the neighbouring packs.
Enigmas were considered less frightening and more awe-inspiring now packs had begun to accept modernity. With fewer aggressive disputes over territory and most wolves preferring to live in harmony, there was no longer much reason to fear one in the way Jeongguk’s ancestors would have.
In the modern world, an enigma in a pack mostly meant influence.
A pack with an enigma amongst its ranks was granted greater consideration in the council, even though nobody would ever admit to it. Their requests were approved more easily and other packs were less eager to argue over trade routes or access to shared hunting grounds.
Jeongguk’s pack had never been weak, but after he presented at sixteen, it rose from being one of several respected forest territories to a pack whose leader received personal invitations to every celebration and meeting. All of the packs that had previously shown no interest in maintaining a close relationship with them, outside of basic treaties, began sending gifts at the turn of every season and agreeing to demands that had been in dispute for years.
It was called respect or diplomacy, but Jeongguk knew what it really was—fear.
He had barely figured out how to keep his pheromones from oppressing other members of his pack in the day to day when he was taken to his first official meeting. It didn’t take him long to realise that all negotiations seemed to require his attendance.
At these gatherings, he was always seated amongst the head alphas of the largest territories despite having no formal position. The visiting leaders always found reasons to speak with him, offering compliments about his training, appearance, anything; all while pretending that they weren’t inhaling his scent greedily like they could absorb some of his wolf’s strength through it. Parents introduced their children with hopeful, timid smiles, listing their achievements and favourable qualities like they were applying for a job, not to be a mate.
Wolves travelled large distances for the opportunity to meet him. They arrived under the pretence of trade agreements or some other negotiation, but they were always accompanied by their unmated children who were dressed in their finest clothes.
Perhaps the attention would have felt better if anyone seemed genuinely interested in Jeongguk, not just what his subgender could do for them or their family’s standing.
He had tried to be open-minded, as his eommas encouraged, because surely not every wolf who travelled to meet him was only interested in what he was. Some were kind, and seemed sincere enough that Jeongguk really believed they could start something, but it never took long for their true motivations to be revealed.
One alpha admitted after a short while that her pack leader believed a bond between them would secure an additional council seat for their pack. That their possible courting and mating would be duty.
Another omega asked to watch Jeongguk train, which he thought was sweet. Plenty of wolves enjoyed watching the morning training sessions of the wolf they were hoping to court, courting, or their newly mated partners; Jeongguk supposed it was one of the few more animalistic needs that remained, the need to prove they were or had a strong, capable mate.
It was only when Jeongguk caught him bragging to his friends afterwards he realised the truth.
“He’s a bit too needy,” the omega snickered. “But everyone’s jealous of me.”
He’d had potential partners ask him to release his pheromones in public to see how everyone reacts, to touch his fur, and even ask about his ruts and knot (“is it really bigger than an alpha's?”); very few asked him what he liked to do for fun, or what made him laugh. They rarely seemed interested in anything that wasn’t to do with strength and power.
Other times, it was fear that ruined things.
Jeongguk would try to play fight or laugh too loudly and their shoulders would tense and their gaze would lower. Some would bare their necks in submission—alphas, betas, and omegas alike—and the person who had been half-joking with him moments before wouldn’t be able to speak without stumbling over their words.
Afterwards, they would apologise and say that it was instinct, nothing more. Of course Jeongguk always told them that there was nothing to forgive, because they couldn’t help the way their bodies responded to him, well, his wolf. But there was never ever coming back from that and he would inevitably stop talking to them.
By his twentieth birthday he had thrown in the towel, called it quits, got on a wagon, or whatever the saying. Nobody cared enough about him anyway, so he was done. He'd resigned himself to the fact he would die alone.
His eommas told him he was too young to be so cynical, but he was unmoving in his opinions. His twenty-fourth birthday was coming up and still, there had not been one wolf that had shown interest in him without already knowing what he was.
Despite everything, he still wanted a mate. A traitorous, hidden part of him remained a romantic, preserved from the pup who has listened to stories beneath the stars and believed that the Goddess has made someone for everyone. While Jeongguk no longer expected to meet his true mate, or come across the one beneath the full moon in a secret alcove, he still wanted to fall hopelessly in love like everyone else.
He wanted someone to laugh at him if he said something foolish rather than smiling politely or agreeing because they were afraid to offend him, who would disagree with him when he was wrong, and grow irritated when he was being difficult. Someone that would interrupt him in the middle of a story, or even put him in his place, without the worry that Jeongguk’s displeasure would bring them to their knees in return.
There were only four wolves that came close to treating him the way he wanted.
His year mates, Yugyeom and Eunwoo, and two from the year above, Mingyu and Dokyeom. They had all known him long before his presentation, when Jeongguk had been nothing more than the youngest pup in their group—even if it was only by one month. They still entered his home without knocking, made him serve them first, and teased him with reminders of every embarrassing thing he’d ever done.
“At least I’ve managed to land all of my backflips, Gguk-ah.”
“I think my favourite look was the bowl cut.”
They were great, and he really would have gone more insane if he didn’t have them, but they couldn’t always ignore what he was. Whenever Jeongguk got too irritated at himself, woke up in a bad mood, or got too competitive in a game, Yugyeom and Mingyu’s alpha scents would flatten beneath his own. Eunwoo and Dokyeom, the two betas, would go rigid and quiet; and all four of them would be desperately releasing calming pheromones in an attempt to relax him.
The moment rarely lasted longer than a few seconds. His friends would soon recover, throw something at him and complain that he ruined the mood, and Jeongguk would laugh because he knew that they wanted him too. But he’d notice the slight tremble in their hands, or how they still wouldn’t be able to meet his eyes for a while afterwards. It was not their fault anymore than it had been the fault of the wolves he courted, it was biology and instinct. However, for Jeongguk, it meant that even with the people who loved him the best, he could never entirely forget who he was and relax.
That was why he found the city so appealing.
His friends travelled there often, returning with stories of streets that remained crowded through the night, buildings so tall they seemed to reach the stars, and, most importantly of all, rude people.
The city belonged entirely to humans. No packs had settled there, and wolves who visited were expected to keep their nature hidden. Humans did not recognise the importance of bloodlines or designations. They did not understand what it meant to be born beneath a particular moon, and they couldn’t sense the change or power in pheromones.
Yugyeom once returned from the city furious because a woman had shoved past him to get onto a train and insulted him under her breath, clearly not realising that he could hear her. Each of the others had come back at different times with similar stories, and the thought of entering a place where nobody instinctively respected him felt almost too good to be true. A human could become impatient with him because he walked too slowly, or tell him to move out of the way, or refuse to serve him because he arrived too close to closing time. They would not be so overpowered by his wolf that they nearly bent their body in two. Jeongguk could not imagine anything more freeing. But with all of his duties and a pack that was so reliant on him, he’d never been able to go.
Which is why he brought up the idea of his friends taking him to the city instead of into the woods for their annual skip-out-on-Jeongguk’s-birthday-celebrations hunt.
The hunt had begun as an excuse when they were seventeen, during the first birthday celebration following Jeongguk’s presentation. Jeongguk understood that his birthday was never to be a private affair again, and the pack had so many visitors they had been forced to erect temporary lodgings beyond the eastern boundary. By the end of the evening, Jeongguk had endured three speeches, received enough ceremonial jewellery to sink himself—and one lucky other—in the river, and been carted around like prized cattle to so many potential mates he felt like he could no longer distinguish scents.
Yugyeom had found him cornered by one of the uppity parents and promptly dragged him away to the sound of her outraged noises before rounding up the others and escaping beyond the tree line. None of them had been particularly great hunters at the time, with over half of them having been presented for just over a year, but it had still been the best part of Jeongguk’s day.
The tradition continued each year, becoming less about hunting and more about escaping. They had spent more time away from the pack every year, last time only waiting until Jeongguk and their pack alpha had given their speeches before slipping away into the forest. They only returned after the visiting wolves had finally gone home—the day after.
“Those were for my birthday,” Jeongguk said as he stopped in the sitting-room doorway and stared at the half empty tray beside Yugyeom.
Yugyeom glanced towards the clock on the wall. “Your birthday begins in less than an hour anyway.”
Jeongguk crossed the room and reached for the tray, but Yugyeom lifted it above his head before he could take it. “Give it back.”
“Ask nicely.”
“This is my house.”
Unmated wolves didn’t usually have houses of their own. They remained with their families or moved into one of the shared homes near the centre of the territory, where there was always another wolf nearby.
Jeongguk, as with most things, had been made an exception.
The official explanation was that an enigma required space and privacy appropriate to their standing. His home had been newly built on a rise near the southern edge of the settlement, close enough that he could reach the packhouse in minutes, but far enough from the neighbouring homes in case of any ‘pheromone incidents.’
With an outrageous four bedrooms, it had unsurprisingly become the official hang out spot for his group.
Most nights ended with all five of them spread across the sitting-room, surrounded by blankets and pillows dragged from every corner of the house. They were all shit at making anything resembling a nest, but it was always comfortable enough for Jeongguk to drift off easily.
That evening was no different. Dokyeom had pulled one of the spare mattresses down the stairs, only for Mingyu to claim most of it by lying diagonally across the middle. Eunwoo occupied one end of the low coffee table, while Yugyeom sat on the floor with his back against the sofa, steadily making his way through the snacks Jeongguk’s eomma had delivered earlier.
Jeongguk reached across him again with his tattooed hand, and Yugyeom shoved one of the honey cakes into his mouth before he could complain again, making him gag and cough crumbs out onto the floor.
“For fuck’s sake,” Jeongguk tried to say, but it came out as garbled nonsense.
Eunwoo began shuffling some cards as they continued to argue. “How was the rehearsal?”
Jeongguk swallowed and reached over to steal what remained of what he assumed was Yugyeom’s drink. “Long,” he said after taking a large gulp.
“That bad?” Dokyeom asked.
“Elder Kim made me repeat my entrance four times.” Jeongguk lowered himself onto a cushion beside the table with a sigh. “And I’m meant to thank the Goddess for giving me another year of service to the pack as well now.”
They all stared at him in various degrees of disbelief and Mingyu broke the silence with a joke. “You should thank the Goddess for another year of avoiding a mating to Head Alpha Mok’s son.”
Dokyeom groaned. “Is he really coming tomorrow?”
“He always comes,” Eunwoo said. “He’ll probably still show up even after Gguk-ah is mated.”
Jeongguk grimaced. Head Alpha Mok’s son—Kihoon—was probably the clearest example of everything he had grown to dislike about being courted.
He was relatively handsome, smart, and wealthy to boot, but every conversation with him eventually circled back to the strength of his bloodline, his family’s position on the council, and why he believed he was obviously the best match for Jeongguk. Every year that passed he had got more dramatic, or desperate, in his attempts to reel Jeongguk in with garish and increasingly intense gifts. As part of his gift the previous year, he had brought a carefully drawn plan for the home he imagined they would share after mating, complete with two nurseries.
“I don’t want to hunt tomorrow,” Jeongguk blurted out.
Whatever conversation they’d been having about Kihoon paused and Yugyeom looked at him in bafflement. “At all?”
“We could take the northern trail instead,” Dokyeom suggested. “It has the clearing there near the mountains with the rope swing.”
“I don’t want to go on another trail.”
Eunwoo placed the cards on the table. “Do you want to go anywhere? Right now it sounds like you want to stick around this year.”
Jeongguk rubbed his thighs. “I want to go to the city.”
Mingyu pushed himself upright and there was a brief silence while the four of them looked at one another, though none of them appeared especially surprised. Jeongguk had been asking more questions about the city lately than he usually did, and it was possible that his interest has not been as subtle as he imagined.
Yugyeom lowered the snack tray onto the floor. “The elders are going to kill us.”
“Forget the elders,” Dokyeom said. “Jeongguk’s eomma will string us up by our toes.”
“She’ll have to catch us first,” Mingyu said.
Jeongguk looked between them, wanting to confirm before he got his hopes too high. “So you’ll take me?”
Yugyeom frowned as if the question itself were strange. “Obviously we’ll take you.” He reached for the drink Jeongguk had stolen, discovered it was empty and gave him an offended look before saying, “We’ve been helping you escape your birthday for seven years. The destination doesn’t make much difference.”
Jeongguk smiled. “True.”
Mingyu sighed and sank back into the mattress, knees bent towards the ceiling. “We’ll have to leave early, before the first visiting packs reach the border.”
“I’ll miss my speech,” Jeongguk said mindlessly and the others looked at him.
The weight of years of duty was urging him to feel alarmed. The speech had been written, revised, and rehearsed until he knew every word, and Elder Kim had already warned him that several pack leaders were travelling with potential mates now he was reaching that age—”They will all want to hear you reaffirm your commitment to the pack and the Goddess.”
He was supposed to care.
Instead, the realisation that he would not have to stand before hundreds of wolves and give a long, flowery speech made him feel nothing but overwhelming relief, and a giddy laugh escaped him before he could contain it.
“I’ll miss my speech,” he repeated with a grin.
Eunwoo's answering smile came slowly. “You will.”
“And Kihoon.”
Yugyeom lifted his empty cup in a toast. “The Goddess is generous after all.”
Jeongguk laughed again, louder this time, and pushed himself up from the cushion, unable to sit still. He crossed the room quickly, turned near the back window and came back, his excitement fizzing beneath his skin until his wolf seemed to be running circles inside him too.
“I won’t have to wear the robes.”
“No,” Eunwoo said, watching him with amusement. “Although you will have to wear something.”
“I know that.” Jeongguk looked down at the soft trousers and loose shirt he had changed into after rehearsal. “Humans wear trousers.”
“Not those trousers.”
Jeongguk knit his brows together. “What’s wrong with my trousers? They're best for shifting.”
“They make you look as though you churn your own butter.”
Jeongguk ignored him, having already begun pacing again, his own thoughts racing ahead. “We could take the train.”
Yugyeom frowned. “You’ve heard me do nothing but complain about trains.”
“That’s why I want to go on one.”
“They’re crowded, people shove you, and nobody moves out of the doorway for you to get off when it’s your stop.”
Jeongguk turned towards him with a wide smile on his face. “Exactly.”
Dokyeom propped his chin against Mingyu’s bent knee. “You’re far too excited about being shoved, Gguk-ah.”
“I don't think a human would be able to shove him anyway,” Yugyeom said to himself.
“It doesn’t matter.” Jeongguk waved him off, already thinking of everything else his friends had described. “We could go to one of those markets with all the food stalls, and I want to use one of those machines so I can buy my own ticket.”
“We can pre-pay. You’ll hold up the line,” Mingyu said.
A thrill shot through Jeongguk. “Do you think someone will tell me to hurry up if I do?”
“Probably not that nicely,” Yugyeom muttered.
Eunwoo raiders an eyebrow, but he looked amused. “You understand that rudeness isn’t a guarantee, don’t you?”
“I don’t need them to insult me. They could ignore me instead.”
“That’s more likely,” Mingyu said.
The reassurance delighted both him and his wolf, who was still bouncing under his skin. He turned to walk by the window again and returned in a circle, tugging absently at the hem of his shirt because his hands needed something to do.
“We could go to a cafe where we have to wait for a table.”
“You are the most impatient person I’ve ever known,” Yugyeom pointed out.
“I am, but no one will care.” Then, Jeongguk laughed again, unable to stop the bubbling happiness from boiling over, and his friends exchanged looks across the room that held equal parts fondness and resignation.
*****
They reached the market that afternoon. Jeongguk had already been sworn at by a cyclist, pushed away from the last seat on a train by a woman half his size, and told to “get out of the fucking way” by a man who had disappeared into the crowd before Jeongguk could apologise.
It had been the best birthday of his life.
He had bought his own ticket from a machine while the queue behind him became more aggravated, waited outside a cafe until a table became available, and had even been served the wrong breakfast after that.
Nobody recognised him, nobody feared him, and most wonderfully of all, nobody cared that he was there.
Jeongguk’s friends had spent most of the day so far keeping him out of traffic—foot or otherwise.
“You need to stop turning around while you’re walking,” Mingyu said, catching the back of Jeongguk’s denim jacket before he could reverse into a family.
“Sorry Hyung,” Jeongguk said, almost bouncing in place. “But did you see? That guy was literally doing a headstand on the other guy’s head.”
Jeongguk tried to look back again, but Eunwoo linked an arm through his and steered him deeper into the market before he could wander back. “I’m hungry Gguk-ah, we can see if they’re still there after.”
The market spread through several narrow streets between old brick buildings. Canvas awnings covered the stalls in mismatched colours, some bright and striped where others had faded after enduring years of rain and sunshine. Yugyeom told him they held markets every Saturday, farmer’s markets for two out of four and a homeware market the rest of the time.
Today, the market was devoted to things people had made or up-cycled. There were ornaments made from sea glass, flowers pressed between clear acrylic, and rows of framed prints leaned against the brick walls behind stalls selling embroidered cushions, hand-poured candles, and fun-shaped planters.
Jeongguk had to hold himself back from buying something from every stall. He had no need for coasters, or lamps, or brass door knobs; that didn’t stop him from frantically eyeing up every item in view though.
The city had given him so much to look at that he could not seem to keep his attention on one thing. His wolf, equally as thrilled by the crowds and noise, had remained near the surface all day, so Jeongguk often had to take a few minutes to calm down as to not—as Yugyeom called it—'wolf out’.
Yugyeom was leading them to a food stall he swore he’d got some of the best tteok soon he’d ever eaten. He weaved confidently between groups of shoppers while Dokyeom followed close behind, nipping at his heels.
Jeongguk really was making an honest effort to keep up with them, but often found himself being forcibly dragged away from various stalls by Mingyu or Eunwoo after falling behind. They were never actually mad at him though, definitely more endeared.
He was looking over a bunch of handmade soaps when he heard the sharp crack of metal.
The sound came from a stall to his right and was followed by a splintering snap. In what seemed like slow motion, Jeongguk saw one corner of a dark blue awning pitch downward. Its support tearing free from the brick wall as a rusted bolt bounced across the pavement.
The heavy canvas dragged the frame with it, twisting the front bar and pulling the remaining supports out. One pole jerked sideways hard enough to strike the edge of the display table beneath it, and the table’s front leg—already resting unevenly between two paving stones—folded at the hinge.
Ceramic dishes scraped across the now tilted wood table, spilling mixed metal rings and charms over it. Several candles rolled towards the edge and knocked into one another, while two stands draped in necklaces tipped sideways, chains tangling together. A row of glass ornaments that were hanging beneath the awning crashed together so loudly it was surprising they didn't break.
The person behind the stall had moved to catch one of the necklace stands against their chest and threw their other arm across a tray of earrings, leaving them directly under the now collapsing frame, with both hands occupied.
Spurred on by his wolf, Jeongguk crossed the distance quickly and caught the frame with his tattooed hand and the slanted edge of the table with the other. The impact drove his heel half a step across the pavement, though the weight itself was slight. He forced the tabletop back level and wedged one boot against the buckled leg so the loose jewellery slowed their movements. Only one ceramic dish slipped off of the table and shattered at his feet.
The owner of the stall flinched at the sound, long blonde hair falling across their face as they tightened their grip on the jewellery they had caught.
“Are you okay?” Jeongguk asked.
They shoved a curtain of pale hair away from their eyes with an irritated jerk of their head. “Peachy. Can you move though? You’re standing in the only place I can use to get out.”
Jeongguk moved his body, turning sideways without letting his arm supporting the awning drop. “Like this?”
“Further. And keep the table level,” they instructed.
Jeongguk moved again as he tightened his fingers around the edge of the tabletop and then planted his foot more securely against the folded leg, holding both pieces still while the person eased themselves through the narrow gap.
As they slipped past him, the movement brought them close enough that their shoulders brushed against Jeongguk’s chest. Jeongguk inhaled automatically and got a lungful of a faint floral scent—shampoo, Jeongguk guessed—coffee from their breath, and another scent that just made him feel warm.
Their hair fell a little beyond their shoulders, cut into feathered layers and became more tousled near the ends. Jeongguk could see that it had been parted slightly off-centre, and beneath the awning it looked cool and silvery, while the strands caught in the afternoon sun warmed into a gold. Their roots were several shades darker, a dark brown or black. Definitely dyed then, Jeongguk thought.
He could feel his wolf stirring, fixating upon where it could see their neck disappeared beneath their hair, and Jeongguk was seized by the desire to lower his face there and breathe them in properly.
Jeongguk caught himself leaning in and jerked back. The sudden movement shifted the metal frame with enough force that the person noticed.
“What are you doing?” they asked as their gaze snapped up so Jeongguk could finally see their face, and he nearly gasped aloud. He had to be the most beautiful person Jeongguk had ever seen.
His face was softly shaped, fatter in the cheeks before tapering into a defined jaw and a small rounded chin. His brows were straight and closer in colour to the roots of his hair, drawn together now as he waited for an explanation, while his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.
The exertion, irritation, or embarrassment had brought a pinkness to his complexion, faint colour spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Jeongguk could see soft tan coloured freckles dusted over his face, something he wasn’t sure would be visible from further away.
Jeongguk drew his eyes down to the man’s mouth. His lips were naturally full, the upper one slightly bowed and the lower noticeably heavier, with a plush curve that looked as though it would give beneath Jeongguk’s thumb. He was overcome with a need to kiss it and catch it gently beneath his teeth, to know whether the stranger would gasp or laugh.
His wolf was no more reasonable, drawing his attention back to where the man’s jaw curved into his neck. He imagined pushing his pale hair aside, pressing his mouth to the warm skin beneath it and biting just hard enough to leave a faint mark. His wolf wanted to lick the mark afterwards, to soothe whatever ache it had caused and breathe in the sweet scent gathering there.
Jeongguk’s gaze returned to the stranger’s lips. Perhaps licking those would be better. Perhaps I could—
“Hello?”
Jeongguk blinked.
The stranger had leaned back slightly, the suspicion now open irritation as one dark eyebrow rose higher than another. “Are you still in there? I asked what you were doing.”
Pink dusted Jeongguk’s cheeks and he could feel heat spreading from under the collar of his shirt to the tips of his ears.
“I was thinking.”
The man scoffed. “Whatever,” he said under his breath, then louder, “Can you keep holding that as I fix it?”
Jeongguk straightened up. “Yes.”
His eagerness was clearly noticed by the stranger, who gave him another look, but Jeongguk was already adjusting his grip to make sure the frame was secure. His wolf was bouncing in his chest at the kind of rude instruction, with a want to complete the task well.
The man crouched among the rings and charms scattered on the floor and searched beneath the table until he found the rusted bolt. “Move your foot closer to the hinge and keep a steady hold of the table.”
Jeongguk obeyed immediately, inching his boot along the pavement until it could press no harder against the table.
“Put more weight against it so your thigh is on the top.”
Jeongguk leaned forward carefully, eyes on the man—the very hot, demanding, kneeling man—for instruction on when to stop. After holding his hand up for Jeongguk to pause, his assessing gaze travelled from Jeongguk’s foot, to his muscled thigh and hand holding the table top, then towards his face.
Jeongguk searched his expression in return, trying to understand the brief lift of his brows and how his mouth softened before he looked away. Jeongguk found himself annoyed for the first time today that there was no scent change to help him.
“You listen well,” the man murmured.
Jeongguk’s chest puffed out at the approval, and his wolf preened beneath his skin. Good. I’m good. He thinks I’m good.
“I want to help,” Jeongguk replied. “Of course I’d–um, listen to you.”
The stranger hummed, returning to his full height to examine the crumbling hole in the brick. He pressed the bolt against the old hole, only for several grains of red brick to crumble beneath his thumb.
“Of course,” he muttered. “Why would anything go well today?”
Jeongguk watched the frustration tighten his jaw and deepen the crease between his brows. The irritation was not directed at him this time, he was pretty certain of it, though he leaned closer to examine the man’s face anyway.
The stranger caught him staring. “What? You keep looking at me intensely and it’s freaking me out.”
Jeongguk fought the urge to cover his ears and wilt. “Sorry. I’m trying to tell whether you’re angry with me.”
Surprise painted the man’s face, taken aback by the honesty. “I—no, I’m annoyed at the situation.” He gestured around weakly. “But you haven’t done anything. I’m sorry for…for being unpleasant, when you’re only helping me.”
Jeongguk wanted to tell him that he could be as unpleasant as he liked.
He wanted to promise that he had not minded the irritation and that he would happily spend the rest of the day being ordered around if it meant the man would continue to look directly at him.
“You don’t have to apologise,” he said instead. “Your stall nearly fell on you and it messed up your display. I would be annoyed too.”
Jeongguk watched as his lips parted as if to say something else to him, but he only cleared his throat and looked back at the wall.
“I would have to drill a new one,” he said with a sigh. “Far enough away so the wall can hold it too.”
Jeongguk glanced beneath the table and spotted a small drill among the half open boxes. “I could do it for you.”
The man followed his gaze, then shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”
“I know how.”
“I believe you,” he replied. “I just don’t want to spend another hour repairing this thing only for something else to break. I’ll just cut my losses and pack up.”
Jeongguk’s wolf recoiled. Packing up meant the man leaving, and although Jeongguk understood that they had known each other for only a few minutes, the idea of watching him disappear into the crowd felt wrong.
“I can help you pack,” Jeongguk offered quickly.
The man glanced at him, the suspicion returning. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“Weren’t you going somewhere with your friends?”
Jeongguk had briefly forgotten he was at the market with anyone. He turned his head and found all four of them clustered around a perfume stall. None of them made an attempt to pretend they hadn’t been watching the whole time.
Yugyeom lifted one hand in greeting. “We were actually going to get food.”
Eunwoo’s gaze moved from Jeongguk to the man beside him and back. “We can bring something back for you?”
“Okay,” Jeongguk said.
“You don’t want to know how long we’ll be?” Yugyeom asked.
Jeongguk looked towards the man next to him, who was watching the exchange with one brow raised, then returned his attention to his friends. “Take your time. No rush.”
Mingyu swallowed a laugh. “Sure thing, Gguk-ah.”
The four of them walked off, although Dokyeom looked back once and gave him an encouraging gesture. Jeongguk nearly groaned aloud, that was so not subtle.
“Okay, Gguk-ssi—”
“Jeongguk.”
“Hm?”
“My name,” he said. “You—it’s Jeongguk.”
“Okay, Jeongguk-ssi,” he said. “If you’re that determined to help, you can start by lowering the frame carefully. I’ll hold the front pole steady.”
Never had his name sounded so pleasing as it did now, shaped by that soft, plump mouth and in that melodic voice. A smile spread across Jeongguk's face as he adjusted his grip once again so he could lower everything comfortably. “Okay.”
The stranger eyed him. “Why are you smiling?”
“You said my name.”
“Well what else would I call you?”
Jeongguk could think of several things: baby, pretty, sweetheart, honey, darling. His wolf supplied its own answer with too much confidence. Mate.
“Whatever you want,” he replied.
The man’s mouth twitched and Jeongguk couldn’t tell if the feeling in his chest came from his wolf pawing at it or his heart beating against it. Then he turned away, gripping the loosened front pole with both hands. “Lower the frame, Jeongguk-ssi.”
The sound of his name sent another warm rush through him and he obeyed quickly, carefully easing the frame down as he watched the stranger for guidance again.
“Slower.”
Jeongguk slowed.
“A little towards you so it clears the table.”
He adjusted the angle, moving slowly until the man raised a hand. “Stop there.”
Jeongguk stopped promptly, his face expectant. He liked the bossiness in the man’s voice and being useful to him. Mostly though, he liked the small signs of approval that appeared whenever Jeongguk did a good job.
“What should I do next?”
“Continue lowering it. I’ll handle it.”
So Jeongguk did.
The man guided the front pole past the edge of the displays, careful not to catch it on the edge, while Jeongguk kept his free hand locked on the tabletop and his boot pressed firmly against the buckling leg beneath it.
Jeongguk angled his forearm towards the wall, taking the loosened awning with it while keeping the table perfectly level. It required an awkward twist through his shoulders, but it wasn’t very heavy, and the man was watching closely enough that Jeongguk refused to show even the slightest strain.
The front pole touched the floor with a light scrape, and the man folded the canvas awning over it before guiding the remaining end down beside the wall. Within moments, the stall lay safely out the way, leaving Jeongguk supporting only the damaged table.
“What next?” he asked eagerly.
“Keep holding that while I clear the table.”
Jeongguk tightened his grip and nodded. “Okay.”
The man began moving the ceramic dishes onto the floor, pausing to sweep the rings and charms from each one first. Jeongguk watched his small hands work for a moment before returning to his face, newly bothered by the fact that this beautiful stranger knew his name while Jeongguk had nothing to call him.
“What’s your name?”
He looked up. “You’re only asking now?”
“I was distracted,” Jeongguk said, gaze drifting over his pale hair and faint freckles before settling briefly upon his mouth.
“Jimin,” the man said after a moment.
“Jimin,” he repeated, unable to keep the smile from his face. “It suits you.”
Jimin pressed his lips together, though Jeongguk caught the beginning of another smile. “Hold the table, Jeongguk-ssi.”
“Whatever you want, Jimin-ssi.”
*****
When nearly all of the jewellery had been wrapped, almost half an hour had passed. Although Jeongguk suspected they could have finished in half that time if he had not spent so much of it finding new reasons to prolong each task.
He had sorted the rings twice, first by gemstone and then by size after Jimin mentioned in passing having to re-arrange them for the next market. Whenever Jimin asked him to pass a new box over, Jeongguk checked the bottom first, and whenever he was asked to close one, he made sure that the edges aligned perfectly before pressing down the lid. Very slowly.
He knew he was behaving ridiculously, but every finished task reduced the number of reasons he had to stay beside Jimin, and that thought alone had his wolf urging him to growl at literal boxes like some brainless pup.
Jimin stood on the other side of the collapsed table, tying a length of cord around the bundled poles, and every time Jeongguk looked up, he found another detail worth staring at. The most recent was that one of his front teeth crossed over the other slightly. Jeongguk only noticed because Jimin kept catching the cord between his teeth whenever he needed both hands to keep the poles straight. Each time his lips pulled back in frustration, the tiny overlap appeared, and it made Jeongguk want to see him smile properly.
His hair was causing him just as much trouble. The front layers kept slipping free from behind his ear and falling across his cheek. No matter how Jimin shoved them back, they returned the moment he lowered his head.
Jeongguk’s fingers twitched with the urge to tuck the soft strands behind Jimin’s ear or to hold his hair back for him, his fingers brushing his warm skin.
He curled them around the edge of the box instead.
They had only just reached a point where Jimin no longer seemed convinced Jeongguk’s help concealed some elaborate scheme to get into his pants—not that Jeongguk didn't want to—and reaching across to touch him without permission would probably destroy the small amount of trust he’d earned.
Within seconds, the same pieces slipped forwards again, catching against the corner of his mouth. Jimin blew at them without looking up, but they only lifted briefly before settling back across his cheek.
Jeongguk stared.
Jimin continued fighting the poles for several moments before glancing up and catching him. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeongguk said, lowering his eyes briefly to his hands.
When Jeongguk looked back over, Jimin had tucked the strands behind his ear again and was tying up the cord. Jeongguk watched his short fingers work and tried not to think about how they’d feel running through his hair. They were so tiny. He wondered how much smaller they’d look interlocked with his.
Jimin tightened the final knot and sat back, then looked at the box in Jeongguk’s lap. “Are those not finished yet?”
“Almost, I’ve been making sure the chains aren’t tangled.”
Jimin folded his arms across his chest, and Jeongguk felt increasingly transparent seeing his mouth beginning to pull up at one corner. Then Jimin glanced towards the boxes stacked against the wall and rubbed his brow bone with the back of his hand.
“I still have to carry all of this to my car.”
Jeongguk nearly jumped up. “Do you want help?”
Jimin bit his lip and nodded. “I assumed you might offer.”
“I can carry everything.”
Jimin stood up and wiped his knees. “You can carry two boxes at a time like a normal person.”
Jeongguk was already calculating how he could stack the smaller jewellery boxes on top of the ones with the ceramic dishes. “I can manage three.”
“Two, Jeongguk-ssi.”
The firmness in his voice made Jeongguk sit back on his heels. “Okay.”
Jimin’s brows lifted but he said nothing other than, “Finish those then you can take the two boxes of ceramics. The car is around the corner.”
Jeongguk nodded and turned back to the necklaces. Worried that Jimin would start loading without him, he made sure he didn’t drag this task out. Within a minute the tissue was folded, the lid was pressed firmly into place, and the box added to the stack against the wall.
Jimin watched the sudden improvement in silence.
“What?” Jeongguk asked, already reaching for the two boxes he’d been assigned.
“Nothing,” Jimin said as he similarly gathered a box of jewellery into his arms.
“I had more to check before.”
“Okay, Jeongguk-ssi.”
Jimin’s tone made it clear he believed nothing of the sort, but it was friendly enough that Jeongguk knew if his wolf was out, his tail would be wagging.
He straightened with the boxes secured in his arms, then found Jimin looking him over, his attention moving from the boxes to Jeongguk’s hands and the muscles drawn taut beneath his sleeves.
Jeongguk’s wolf urged him to push his shoulders back.
Strong. Capable. Useful.
Jeongguk knew that Jimin had brought the entire stall from his car alone that morning, which meant he was perfectly capable of carrying more than one small box, but he disliked watching those small hands tighten around the cardboard all the same.
“Tell me if it gets heavy, I can take it if it does.”
Jimin began walking before Jeongguk could say he’d carry more than two boxes again. “As I said, the car is only around the corner, Jeongguk-ssi.”
The car was squeezed into a narrow side street between a delivery van and a wall covered with torn posters. Jimin set his box down long enough to unlock the boot, then lifted it again and began directing Jeongguk where to place everything.
“Ceramics to the left, but turn the box so the holes face outward.”
Jeongguk lowered the items carefully, only needing to adjust the bottom one, and looked up for confirmation.
Jimin’s eyes moved over them before returning to him. “Yeah, that’s good.”
They learned more about each other on the journeys to and from the car. Jeongguk did his best to reign in his overwhelming need to find out anything and everything about Jimin, which meant giving small bits of information about himself in between the million questions he asked. Jimin discovered that Jeongguk was visiting with friends (probably something he had already deduced), while Jeongguk learned things like the stall belonged to Jimin and his best friend Taehyung, who made most things they sold.
“He was meant to be here,” Jimin said as he lifted another box. “Then he called me at seven this morning to tell me this report was due Monday and nowhere near finished.”
“So he left you to do everything alone?” Jeongguk frowned.
“He had to choose between this and keeping his job.”
“He could have finished the report earlier.”
Jimin gave him the closest thing to a grin he had all afternoon. “That was pretty much what I said. Though I cussed him out way more.”
The stall was only a side business, something Jimin and Taehyung did every now and again when they had enough stock and free time. Jimin made the jewellery and poured the candles, while Taehyung did pretty much everything else.
“What is your day job?” Jeongguk asked.
“I teach dance.”
Jeongguk paused in the middle of the lane with two boxes braced against his chest. “You teach dance.”
“Yes,” Jimin said, eying him. “That’s what I just said.”
Jeongguk barely heard him as he began looking Jimin over, his attention moving from his face to the body beneath his loose clothing. Jimin wasn’t big, especially not next to Jeongguk, but now Jeongguk noticed how firm his thighs looked beneath his trousers. Even the way Jimin stood was like a dancer. He was always perfectly balanced, like his body naturally found its centre.
Jeongguk’s mind supplied images of Jimin at his home. To the clearing beyond the oldest trees where his pack danced on and celebrated full moons.
A bonfire burned at the centre, sparks visible in the dark while drums and bells echoed in the forest. Wolves moved barefoot around the flames until sweat shone on their skin. His thoughts continued to fill the gaps and he imagined Jimin’s back against his chest, Jeongguk’s hands slipping around Jimin’s waist and pulling him flush against him while the drums—
“Jeongguk-ssi.”
His eyes snapped back up to Jimin’s face.
Jimin had stopped a few paces away with a box balanced against one hip and a look of amusement painted on his face.
His gaze dipped pointedly towards Jeongguk’s legs before returning to his face. “Problem with your legs?”
Heat climbed its way out of Jeongguk’s collar again. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“About?”
“You dancing.”
Jimin’s brows rose, his smile maybe a little teasing as though he knew that Jeongguk’s mind had wandered somewhere incriminating. Jeongguk did not tell him about the fire lit clearing or the weight of his back against his chest, he only admitted that the obvious strength in his legs had made it easy to picture him moving.
To Jeongguk’s delight, slight colour spread beneath Jimin’s freckles. “You’ve never seen me dance.”
“I think you’d be good.”
“I am good,” Jimin replied, without false modesty.
Jeongguk smiled back at him in response and Jimin looked away. Then he cleared his throat and turned around, telling Jeongguk to watch the curb—the same curb they had already crossed multiple times—and left him to follow.
It didn't take long for the final load of boxes Jeongguk was carrying to be loaded into the car, with Jimin still directing him where to place each one. He discovered that he liked following his instructions almost as much as he liked hearing him say his name. Particularly when Jimin’s gaze lingered on his hands and arms as he loaded the goods into the boot tetris style.
During the final trip, Jeongguk’s friends returned with food. They found him carrying the folded table beneath one arm while Jimin walked a step ahead with the bundled awning.
“We brought yours,” Yugyeom said, holding out a paper tray of tteok soon.
Jeongguk accepted it with his free hand, thanked him and then glanced towards Jimin, who had stopped at the mouth of the side street to wait.
“I’ll meet you later.”
Mingyu looked from the table beneath Jeongguk’s arm to Jimin holding the canvas awning. “Later than the five minutes this is going to take?”
“There are still things we have to fit in his car.”
“We can wait.”
Jeongguk knew they could, and also could not think of anything worse. He would see his friends in an hour, this evening, and every day after, whereas he didn’t know if he’d ever get more time with Jimin again.
“I’ll message you,” he said, already stepping backwards towards Jimin.
Eunwoo appeared to understand first, sighing as he caught Dokyeom’s wrist with a smile. To stop him giving me another stupid thumbs up, Jeongguk hoped.
“We’ll stay by the food stalls,” Eunwoo said.
Jeongguk nodded and turned back towards Jimin, ignoring Yugyeom’s complaint that they just crossed back over half the market to find him.
Jimin was trying not to smile. “Why are you sending your friends away?”
“I still have work to do.”
“You're only carrying one table around a corner,” Jimin pointed out.
Jeongguk adjusted the table with one arm. “Well it could take a while.”
The lie was so transparent that Jimin outright laughed in his face, but Jeongguk’s embarrassment was almost non-existent because he had the pleasure of seeing that crooked tooth again.
They carried the pieces the rest of the way, and then Jeongguk did everything he could to make fitting them into the boot more complicated than it needed to be. He suggested changing the angle of boxes in there, or moving them all together. Jimin saw through every attempt and combat each one with a smile or a roll of his eyes.
“Just wedge the table between the edge of the boot and the boxes,” he said at last, both hands against the car.
Jeongguk obeyed, though he was a little huffy, as his desire to prolong the afternoon crumbled under direct instruction. His need to do what Jimin said winning out. The boot clicked shut on the first attempt and he cursed his methodological behaviour from before. He should have made a mess of it, he thought. But then you'd seem incapable, he argued with himself.
“That’s everything,” Jimin said.
Jeongguk stood beside the car staring at him with a cooling tray of food in one hand and nothing left to lift in the other.
Jimin got his keys out and the jingle of them made Jeongguk’s wolf stir anxiously.
He felt it was so unfair. Jimin was so mellow and open compared to how he was over thirty minutes earlier. His shoulders were relaxed, and there was a warmth in his expression whenever he looked at Jeongguk—he’d even got a laugh out of him.
Jeongguk wanted to preserve their time somehow.
He wanted to ask when Jimin would next be at the market, where the dance studio was, and if people were able to come and watch performances. He didn't even know if he'd be able to find time to come to the city again, but for Jimin, he'd try. Goddess, he'd fucking try.
Jimin gripped his keys tightly and glanced towards the main road. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
The casualness of it made Jeongguk’s chest tighten.
Jimin believed they might happen upon each other again, that Jeongguk might wander through the market or walk into the same shop one afternoon. He did not know that there was a large forest between them, or that Jeongguk’s visit was a one-off stolen day that was unlikely to happen again. And even if it did, it would be after a year.
“I’m only here for one night,” Jeongguk said.
Jimin’s attention returned to him. “What?”
“My friends and I return tomorrow morning. Early.”
The small smile on Jimin’s face faded and Jeongguk once again found himself loathing the fact he couldn’t smell what that change meant.
“Do you live nearby?” Jimin asked.
Jeongguk shrugged. “Kind of. But I don't know when I'll be back.”
“Oh.”
The single syllable thrust itself into Jeongguk’s chest like a knife and his wolf urged him forward to comfort him, comfort him, comfort him.
Jeongguk nearly shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. No matter how he thought about him, they had only just met. It would be weird for a human to be so intense, even he thought it was a bit intense. Plus, maybe Jimin was only surprised. Maybe the faint crease now sitting snug between his brows meant nothing more than having been corrected. Jeongguk shouldn’t continue to interpret his expressions through an increasingly infatuated wolf, something only just less sensible than him.
Jimin looked down at his keys, turning the ring once around his finger. His lips parted and hope flared inside Jeongguk.
“Thank you again, Jeongguk-ssi,” Jimin said instead, his voice softer. “I really would have struggled with all of that on my own.”
Jeongguk wanted to tell him that he could ask him again, a million times over. That Jeongguk would come back to carry every box and single-handedly support the stall and awning if Jimin only told him when. But the promises crowded behind his teeth, partly because he knew it wouldn’t be normal of him to ask and he would likely not be able to stick to them anyway.
“Of course,” he managed. “I liked helping you.”
“I noticed.”
Jimin’s smile returned, though it was smaller now, and Jeongguk found himself drinking it in like he had every other expression the other had sent his way.
Jimin opened the driver’s door and paused with one hand resting upon it. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“You too.” Jeongguk’s eyes widened. “I mean—yeah, thank you.”
A soft snort or amusement came from Jimin. “Goodbye, Jeongguk-ssi,” he said, lowering himself into the car and pulled the door closed.
Jeongguk stepped back as the engine started, watching through the windscreen while Jimin fastened his seatbelt and pushed his hair away from his face again. Jimin glanced at him before reversing, and Jeongguk lifted one hand in a farewell that felt more than a little pathetic.
Jimin returned it and then the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared around the corner, taking Jimin and his nice scent with it.
Jeongguk continued to look at the the empty road. “Goodbye, Jimin-ssi.”
He knew he was being more than a little ridiculous. Jimin was a stranger, however beautiful, and they had spent less than an hour together. Jeongguk knew next to nothing about him, or if they were even as compatible as his wolf seemed to believe. He had no claim upon Jimin’s time and no reason to feel as though something had been taken from him.
But his wolf paced, unhappy and confused by Jimin’s disappearance, still expecting the blonde haired head to reappear around the corner and call Jeongguk’s name. And Jeongguk's human side wasn't faring much better.
Now the city seemed different from the one he had been delighted by that morning. The anonymity he had wanted and enjoyed so desperately now meant Jimin could vanish into thousands of people without ever learning much more or caring about who Jeongguk was.
He wasn’t sure why that made him feel so sick.
*****
Hours later, Jeongguk sat in a booth at the edge of a crowded bar, turning the same glass between his hands while his friends got progressively louder around him.
The music had been quiet enough for conversation when they arrived, but by ten the lights had dimmed and the tables nearest the centre had been cleared away to create a dancefloor that quickly filled. The bass was travelling through the floor hard enough to rattle the ice in their drinks, but Jeongguk was barely bothered by any of it.
He had spent most of the evening replaying one specific hour of his afternoon. All he could think of was Jimin. How his mouth had pulled into at least three smiles, how his hair had refused to remain behind his ear, and the softness of his voice. He was so cute. So fucking cute. And gone, never to be seen again.
“The aim is to drink that before all the ice melts,” Yugyeom said, nodding towards his glass.
Jeongguk swallowed what remained and Dokyeom slid another towards him immediately. “Drink that too.”
Wolves metabolised human alcohol too quickly for one or two drinks to have much effect, so his friends had taken it upon themselves to keep replacing his glass in the hope that eventually he would become less miserable.
Jeongguk downed it in one go, then stared despondently into the bottom of the glass like Jimin might crawl out of it. “He was so cute.”
A weary silence fell around the table.
“He had freckles too,” Jeongguk continued. “They were so faint you had to get close to see them, and one of his front teeth crossed over the other a little.” He brought his own finger up to tap his own two front teeth as if they needed any further clarification. “Right here.”
Yugyeom reached for the bottle and poured more into his glass. “Keep drinking.”
“Gyeom-ah, you’d understand if you saw what I saw.”
“We literally saw him,” Eunwoo said. “With our own eyes.”
Jeongguk frowned and Mingyu cut in quickly, “Even if we didn’t, I think I could draw him from memory after how much you’ve spoken about him Gguk-ah.”
Jeongguk sighed and sunk lower in the booth. “You didn’t hear him laugh.”
Dokyeom downed his drink next like it was a shot. “It’s a good job you’ll be able to tell us all about it for the fifth time then.”
Jeongguk kicked him beneath the table, earning a loud complaint that briefly improved his mood before he remembered again that he hadn’t squeezed more information from Jimin. Not even a measly eleven digits.
The music changed to something a little more seductive and with a heavier beat drawing noise from the people crowded onto the dance floor. Jeongguk let his attention drift towards them without interest, watching bodies move beneath flashes of light until a sweep of pale hair caught his eye and he sat up so quickly that his knee struck the underside of the table.
The dancer had their back towards him, long blonde hair gathered into loose braids with thin silver hoops threaded through them. The strands left free swept over narrow shoulders and a white netted tank top revealed lightly tanned skin through every open stitch. Jeongguk swore he could see tattoos running down their spine too. Faded jeans hugged the person’s hips and thighs before flaring slightly below the knee. A black belt cinched their waist, emphasising just how small it was before the denim curved over their—stupidly good—ass.
Jeongguk assessed them.
They looked like Jimin, but he had spent the entire evening seeing him in every blonde-haired stranger who crossed his path and ending up disappointed when it was just some other person. The city was too large, and Jeongguk could not possibly be fortunate enough to find the same human twice in one day.
The dancer rolled their hips with effortless control, their body following the beat as naturally as breath. They bent their knees to lower their body and rose again, then they lifted their arms before turning to the right—meaning that Jeongguk got to see their side profile.
His wolf reacted before he did.
Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.
He could have laughed, he could have sung, he could have run in wide circles around the edge of the bar he was so ecstatic; he watched unblinkingly instead.
Dark shadow had been smudged around Jimin’s eyes to elongate them, and Jeongguk could see silver—glitter? eyeliner?—catching beneath his lower lashes whenever the lights crossed his face. His lips were glossed and seemed larger than they had only hours earlier. Jeongguk nearly groaned aloud.
Watching him now felt dangerously close to seeing the imagined fantasy he had earlier of Jimin back on his pack grounds dancing around the bonfire. Jeongguk was enthralled, enchanted, and—
There was a man standing behind Jimin.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark curled hair falling over his eyes and one hand hovering close to Jimin’s hip. Jimin glanced over his shoulder, grinned beautifully at something the man said and backed against him, moving in time with his body while the stranger’s palm settled against his waist.
Jeongguk’s pleasure curdled instantly.
Jimin rolled his hips again, pressing his backside into the man behind him, who bent closer and murmured something near his ear.
That should be me. Why is he touching him when I’m right here? That man can hardly dance. I can dance. I should get up and show him. I can be a better partner. Jimin should dance on me.
Yugyeom’s shoulders drew inward, his alpha releasing calming pheromones, while Mingyu went rigid beside him. Across the table, Dokyeom lowered his gaze and Eunwoo’s fingers tightened around his drink, all four wolves responding instinctively.
“Gguk-ah,” Yugyeom said tightly. “Please.”
Jeongguk pulled his scent back in, shame cutting through the jealousy as his friends took careful breaths around him.
“Sorry.”
It was not their fault that his wolf had decided Jimin belonged with them after less than an hour, or that Jeongguk agreed with him. He had to get himself under control anyway. Jimin hadn't promised him anything, and the man he was dancing with might even be his boyfriend. That thought only served to sour his thoughts a little more.
The man leaned towards Jimin’s ear again, and Jimin’s gaze lifted over the crowd, searching.
Their eyes met and Jeongguk stopped breathing.
Recognition showed on Jimin’s face, his eyes widening before his mouth opened into a smile that seemed so bright Jeongguk could see nothing else.
Jeongguk should have looked away after being caught staring, especially when he probably looked angry and jealousy was still burning hot beneath his skin, but the happiness in Jimin’s expression held him in place. He remained frozen as Jimin continued dancing, his gaze fixed upon Jeongguk now while his body followed the music.
Jimin tilted his head and let his eyes travel deliberately down Jeongguk’s body before returning to his face. Then he rolled his hips again, still pressed against the other man but watching Jeongguk as though the dance was for him.
When Jimin caught his lower lip briefly between his teeth and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, Mingyu made a quiet sound beside him. “Holy shit.”
“Stop looking at him,” Jeongguk said.
They all returned their eyes to the table, each of their mouths pulling into poorly hidden grins.
Jeongguk endured another few seconds before the combination of Jimin’s gaze and the stranger’s hand at his waist made him feel too hot under the collar—for more than one reason.
“I need a drink.”
“You have one,” Eunwoo said.
Jeongguk downed his glass again.”I need another.”
Jeongguk left before they could stop him, weaving through the crowd towards the bar while his wolf fought against every step that took him away from Jimin. He wedged himself into a small space at the counter and stared towards the bottles arranged along the wall, he had no idea what he intended to order so he hoped the bartender would take their time.
“Jeongguk-ssi.”
The familiar voice reached him through the music, and Jeongguk’s elbow hit the bar in his haste to turn around.
Jimin stood behind him.
Up close, he was even prettier than Jeongguk had remembered. The exertion from dancing (or maybe the alcohol) had brought colour into his cheeks and left strands curling damply around his temples. The open weave of his shirt revealed flashes of his toned chest and stomach beneath it. That was definitely a tattoo along his ribs.
So pretty.
Jimin was so pretty that the sight of him felt like both a kick to the chest and sunlight warming his skin. There must be some fairy or siren or veela in his family tree, Jeongguk thought. Nobody human just looked like this.
“I—you’d gone home,” he said at last.
“I did. Then I changed and came here.”
“Yes. You look—” Jeongguk’s gaze moved helplessly over him again before returning to his face. “You’re very pretty.”
Surprise parted his glossy lips before the flush on his cheeks deepened.
“Pretty?” he repeated.
Jeongguk nodded. “Very.”
Jimin looked away for a moment, though the small smile pulling at his mouth showed how much he liked the answer. When he looked back, he appeared smug. “Is that why you were staring so hard? To figure that out?”
“I didn't need to stare to figure that out,” he replied.
Jimin lifted a brow. “No?”
Jeongguk’s attention drifted past him towards the dance floor, searching almost involuntarily for the man who had been standing behind him. He could not see him through the crowd, but the memory of his hand spread across Jimin’s waist remained unpleasantly clear.
“Did you come with friends?” he asked.
Jeongguk watched as Jimin bit his lip. “I did.”
“The people you were dancing with?”
“Some of them.”
Jeongguk nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to Jimin’s waist. “The tall man? Is he a friend?”
“I know him.”
Jeongguk looked towards the bottles behind the bar, pretending to consider what he wanted to order. “He seemed familiar with you.”
Jimin looked Jeongguk over carefully, clearly enjoying the tension in his shoulders and whatever jealousy was undoubtedly written across his face and slipping into his voice, though he spared Jeongguk the humiliation of naming it aloud.
“We’ve known each other for a long time,” he said.
That answer was somehow worse and Jeongguk’s fingers curled against the bar. “Do you always dance like that together?”
Jimin tipped his head, braids sliding over one shoulder. “Why?”
Jeongguk shrugged. “I was only wondering.”
“Of course,” Jimin said and the smile on his mouth made it clear that Jeongguk was being horribly transparent. Again.
Before Jeongguk could force himself to ask more directly, Jimin glanced over his shoulder at someone calling him from the crowd. To Jeongguk's displeasure, it was the man from the dance floor that stepped into view.
Up close, the stranger was as tall as Jeongguk and broad through the shoulders, with an angular face that was pulled into a boxy smile. He wore a plain black t-shirt tucked into baggy ripped jeans and a patterned silk scarf wrapped around his waist as a belt. Jeongguk loathed to admit he was handsome, and if he stood up a little straighter and puffed out his chest a little more that's nobody's business but his.
“There you are,” the man said.
He placed one hand against Jimin’s waist as he came alongside him, fingers settling through the open stitching of the shirt with the same familiarity as before, and Jimin leaned easily into his side.
Jeongguk's wolf bristled so aggressively that he had to quickly concentrate on keeping his head so he didn’t suffocate his friends from across the bar.
The man leaned towards Jimin’s ear. “You disappeared on me.”
“I came to find someone.”
His gaze moved towards Jeongguk, curiosity replacing his easy smile and he spoke louder this time, “Are you the awning guy?”
Jimin softly elbowed him. “Don’t call him that.”
Jeongguk’s jealousy briefly lost its footing and was replaced by a rush of pleased surprise. “You talked about me?”
“The entire stall collapsed,” Jimin said, suddenly very interested in adjusting one of the silver hoops in one of his braids. “It was worth mentioning.”
“You sent me multiple messages about him,” the man muttered, clearly not expecting Jeongguk to be able to hear him over the music.
Jimin elbowed the man harder this time, but he only laughed and tightened his arm briefly around Jimin in retaliation.
The fact that Jimin had thought about him after driving away and remembered enough to speak about him or deemed him worth mentioning made him feel good. Really good. His wolf too, was soothed by the confirmation that Jeongguk had not disappeared from Jimin’s mind the moment his car turned the corner.
In his attempt to conceal that he'd heard what he shouldn't have, his face must have done something complicated, because Jimin decided to take pity on him.
“Jeongguk-ssi, this is Taehyung,” he said and watched it click. “My best friend. The one who makes the ceramics and abandoned me this morning for a report.”
Taehyung lifted his free hand. “And I can confirm, I smashed it.”
“Your best friend,” Jeongguk repeated and his relief must have been obvious, because Taehyung glanced down at his hand upon Jimin’s waist before looking back at Jeongguk with sudden understanding.
Taehyung removed his hand, though the smile beginning to form suggested nothing good. “Was I causing trouble?”
“No,” Jeongguk said.
“A little,” Jimin said at the same time.
Jeongguk looked at him.
Jimin laughed. “You’ve been trying to find out who Tae was since I came over.”
“I just wanted to know if he was your friend,” Jeongguk said, nearly pouting.
Taehyung laughed before looking past Jeongguk towards the booth where his friends were watching with very little subtlety.
“Are those your people? Or have they never seen hot people before?”
Jeongguk snickered. “They're my friends.”
“Perfect. We have a table upstairs,” Taehyung said, nodding towards a roped staircase at the far side of the bar. “There’s more space, and the drinks are already paid for.”
Jimin looked towards Jeongguk rather than his friends. “You can all join us, if you want.”
Jeongguk was sure even the two humans in front of him could probably hear how his heart picked up. “You want me to?”
“I came over here, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Yes, Jeongguk-ssi,” Jimin said, his amusement softened by something warmer. “I want you to join us.”
The certainty was exactly what Jeongguk needed. His wolf nearly pushed him forward with happiness alone, already forgetting every miserable thought that had occupied him before Jimin appeared on the dance floor.
Taehyung gestured towards the stairs. “Bring the whole table. We have enough room in VIP, and our friends will want to meet you because—”
“Tae, seriously?”
“Okay,” Jeongguk said and he could feel himself nearly vibrating with joy. “We’ll come.”
Jimin turned from where he was glaring at Taehyung to smile at Jeongguk.
Jeongguk returned to the booth with both of them trailing behind him, his friends straightening as they approached. Yugyeom’s attention moved pointedly towards Taehyung, then to Jeongguk’s cheerful expression.
“This is Taehyung-ssi,” Jeongguk said before any of them could ask. “Jimin-ssi’s best friend.” The emphasis made Taehyung snigger behind him, but Jeongguk was focused on gathering the drinks from the table. “They have a table in VIP. We’re going upstairs.”
Dokyeom looked towards Jimin and Taehyung, then back at Jeongguk. “Just like that?”
“Jimin-ssi invited us.”
The explanation seemed more than sufficient to Jeongguk, and after sharing amused glances, his friends rose to follow without complaint.
Jimin moved towards the stairs with Taehyung, and after a few steps, he turned back to make certain Jeongguk was coming. Naturally, Jeongguk sped up enough so he was then in front of Taehyung. Just in case.
The staircase opened onto a mezzanine sectioned off from the rest of the club by fogged glass and a velvet rope. In truth, Jeongguk noticed very little of it, because Jimin was climbing ahead of him. Climbing ahead of him with those faded jeans fitted closely across his hips, tightening more over his thighs and backside with every step. If that wasn't enough to drive Jeongguk insane, the hem of his netted shirt shifted above his belt and offered flashes of ink and un-obscured glimpses of the narrow waist Jeongguk had been trying not to imagine beneath his hands.
Given his laser focus, it was inevitable that Jimin would glance back and catch him.
His eyes snapped to Jimin’s face, too late to disguise it as anything but ogling, and he felt himself flush as Jimin smirked.
“Careful,” Jimin warned. “There’s another step.”
Jeongguk looked down, realised he was already standing on the landing, and heard Taehyung bark out a laugh behind him.
Their table occupied the far corner of the mezzanine, where four men were already sat among bottles, glasses, and plates of half-eaten food. Taehyung introduced Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin, and the first thing Seokjin made clear was that he owned the bar so they should order what they liked.
“All of it?” Dokyeom asked.
“Every profitable centimetre,” Seokjin replied. “Even the backrooms where I do shady dealings.”
Dokyeom looked uncertainly towards Eunwoo.
“He’s joking,” Jimin explained, looking over at Seokjin. “Hyung, stop being weird.”
Seokjin tutted. “I give you free drinks and the finest table in the building, and you attack my character in front of guests.”
“The only shady dealings he gets up to is stealing your star in Mario Party,” Yoongi said.
“It’s called having strategy Yoongi-ah.”
“And that’s why we gang up on you when we play, Hyung,” Taehyung said.
The table dissolved into argument while everyone shifted to make room. Jeongguk moved instinctively towards the space beside Jimin, only for Taehyung to reach it first and slide in against his best friend’s side.
Jeongguk stopped and Taehyung looked up at him, then towards the open space opposite Jimin. “There’s a seat there.”
“I saw it,” Jeongguk said, hoping his disappointment wasn’t obvious. He reminded himself that these were Jimin’s closest friends, and that appearing possessive over someone he had met that afternoon was probably the fastest possible way to make all of them dislike him.
He wanted them to like him.
Jeongguk wanted them to think he was safe to have around, not strange or the sort of man they would warn Jimin against after he left, so he sat in the free chair opposite without complaint. Though, he clearly hadn’t been that successful in hiding his dissatisfaction with the seating plan, because Jimin's eyes were dancing with mirth as he watched him plop himself down.
Taehyung shifted until his shoulder pressed right up against Jimin’s and took no time at all to begin recounting the market disaster once everyone had a drink in hand, grossly exaggerating that the entire wall had collapsed and Jeongguk had caught the falling bricks single-handedly like some superhero.
“It was the awning,” Jimin corrected. “With the metal frame.”
“You said he held it with one arm while keeping the table level with the other.”
“That part is true.”
All of Jimin’s friends looked towards Jeongguk’s arms but he only cared about Jimin, whose gaze moved slowly from his shoulders, down his tattoo sleeve, to his hands. His eyes remained locked on them long enough for Jeongguk's wolf to yip internally and he actively tried not to flex his fingers.
“And then he followed every instruction Minnie gave him for an hour,” Taehyung continued.
“It wasn’t an hour, Tae,” Jimin said with a fond sigh.
“And all without arguing once.”
Jeongguk looked at Taehyung in bafflement. “Why would I argue? He knew more than me.”
Taehyung gestured towards him with a look of triumph, as though Jeongguk had proved his point more effectively than he ever could.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin said, his eyes rolling before settling upon Jeongguk across the table. “Well, he did a very good job.”
The praise washed over Jeongguk and he tucked his lip beneath his teeth to stop the growing smile on his face.
Taehyung nudged Jimin with a grin. “Stop or he’s going to start wagging his tail.”
Yugyeom inhaled a mouthful of his drink and bent forward coughing while Mingyu thumped him between the shoulder blades with unnecessary force. Jeongguk gave both of them a warning look, but Yugyeom was already hiding his face behind one hand, his shoulders shaking.
Jimin glanced between them, curiosity flickering across his face. “Was it really that funny?”
“He chokes all the time,” Jeongguk said quickly.
“I do not.”
“It’s kind of an inside joke.”
Yugyeom appeared ready to argue, then caught Jeongguk’s eye and reached silently for his glass instead.
The conversation flowed after that and Jeongguk made a deliberate effort to pay attention to everyone else, because these guys were Jimin’s pack, his people, and he didn't want to seem like he had no interest in anyone but him.
Namjoon asked where they lived, and Yugyeom smoothly described a remote community beyond the city, surrounded by enough woodland that visitors often found it inconvenient to visit. Hoseok probed about Jeongguk’s work—”Security.” “Ah, explains the look then.”—while Seokjin asked if he lived alone and if he had any pets.
Yoongi spoke less than the others, but he was no less engaged. Especially when he discovered that Yugyeom shared his irritation with passengers who blocked train doors and refused to move when people needed to get off.
It was easy for Jeongguk to relax among them. Their insults were affectionate and they all spoke over each other, conversations darting from the one topic to the next seamlessly. They reminded Jeongguk of his own friends.
Seokjin was teasing Yugyeom for having a baby face when he suddenly paused and looked around at Jeongguk, Mingyu, Eunwoo, and Dokyeom.
“Wait, actually, how old are all of you?”
Jeongguk glanced towards his friends before answering, remembering that age for humans was like sub-genders and ranks for them. “I turned twenty-four today.”
Jimin’s head snapped towards him. “Today?”
Jeongguk nodded.
Jimin only stared in disbelief. “It’s your birthday?”
“Yes...”
“And you spent part of it holding up my stall?”
“I did other things as well.”
Jimin leaned forward with a frown, one hand still curled around his glass. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jeongguk hadn't thought to mention it once, his birthday wasn't a big deal. To him recently anyway. He was confused as to why Jimin seemed so bothered.
“He didn’t want a celebration,” Eunwoo explained before Jimin could continue questioning him. “That was why we brought him here.”
“It’s his first proper visit,” Yugyeom added. “He’s been excited by almost everything.”
“He's right here,” Jeongguk said.
Yugyeom paid him no mind. “You should see how he acts when someone is rude to him.”
“I bet I could guess one reaction,” Taehyung smirked.
Jimin's hand disappeared beneath the table and, not soon after, Taehyung yelped. Then Jimin ignored Taehyung's wounded look to meet Jeongguk's eyes again.
Jeongguk tried instinctively to seek out what Jimin was feeling but only smelled the same pleasant floral scent as before and whatever he'd been drinking to leave him flushed.
“If you told me earlier,” Jimin said. “I would have given you something.”
Jeongguk tilted his head. “You still can.”
“Oh?” Jimin asked. “What would you like?”
Jeongguk caught his lower lip between his teeth. There were too many answers to that question, most of which weren't birthday specific and should definitely not be spoken aloud in front of an audience. Jeongguk's eyes dropped to Jimin's mouth and then moved to the small hand wrapped around a glass, adorned with silver rings.
“Anything you want to give me,” Jeongguk answered, dragging his gaze back up.
“You trust me that much already?”
Jeongguk watched Jimin's tongue dart out to run over his bottom lip as if he was in a trance. “I think you have good taste.”
“I do,” Jimin agreed, and ran his eyes deliberately over Jeongguk's chest and arms again.
Namjoon cleared his throat. “Should the rest of us leave so Jimin-ah can decide how generous he feels?”
Jeongguk nearly whined when Jimin looked away from him to narrow his eyes at Namjoon.
“Shut up, Hyung.”
Taehyung looked between them with a shit eating grin. “So what are you giving him?”
Jimin raised his glass, hiding his smile behind the rim. “A candle or whatever.”
Luckily there wasn't much teasing to be had after that because Jeongguk's friends answered Seokjin’s question about their ages, distracting everyone. Taehyung became ridiculously pleased when he realised that all five of Jeongguk’s group were younger than him and therefore able to call him hyung. He spent about five minutes enjoying the novelty until Jimin threatened to spill the beans about what happened last Christmas, after which the subject drifted naturally into everything from where Jeongguk and his friends had been like when they were growing up to how often they came into the city.
Jeongguk found himself drawn into an unexpectedly good conversation with Hoseok, who had latched onto the mention of training and wanted to know whether Jeongguk ever danced. It turned out that Hoseok taught at the same studio as Jimin, although his own classes leaned more heavily towards street styles, and once Jeongguk admitted that he enjoyed dancing even if he had never trained formally, Hoseok began probing him with questions.
“You look like all you do is lift weights,” Hoseok said, smiling as he leaned an elbow on the table. “Which is usually a nightmare for body isolation.”
Jeongguk laughed. “I know how to control my body.”
“That confident?”
“I train almost every day.”
“So do half the men who come into my beginner classes. But when I ask them to just move their hips, they move their entire body like a seesaw.”
Jeongguk laughed, probably a bit too hard. Hoseok was easy company, expressive without dominating the conversation, and Jeongguk liked the way he disagreed with him without a thought.
Across the table, Jimin had fallen into conversation with Mingyu, Taehyung and Yugyeom, and Jeongguk tried not to keep checking on him. So far, his attention only wandered there whenever Jimin laughed. Every so often he caught only fragments of what they were saying, something about Mingyu’s height and that Taehyung had once been mistaken for a model in an airport, but Jeongguk forced himself to stay in easy conversation with Hoseok rather than stare.
He was doing quite well until Jimin suddenly lifted his glass and downed what remained.
Like a moth to flame, Jeongguk’s eyes followed the bob of his throat as he swallowed.
Jimin set the empty glass down, flicked his tongue out to lick the corner of his mouth, and leaned back with a restless sigh. “I want to dance.”
“I’ll go with you, Hyung,” Jeongguk answered before anyone else could react.
Hoseok, who had been moving subconsciously in his seat for most of the evening, reached for the bottle as though dancing had never interested him in his life.
“I think I’ll stay here,” he said.
“Same,” Taehyung agreed. “I need to rest my feet.”
Jimin slid from his chair, walked round to Jeongguk, and held his hand towards Jeongguk, who stared at the small, ringed fingers for a moment before placing his own between them.
The difference in size was exactly as Jeongguk had imagined at the market, Jimin’s palm smaller and his chubby fingers fitting neatly between Jeongguk’s. He fought the urge to coo and bring them up to nip at individually.
His chair was nearly knocked over when he stood up too fast and a smile tugged at Jimin's mouth before he dragged him towards the stairs.
Jeongguk followed closely as Jimin led him through the crowd, pleased every time Jimin glanced over his shoulder. It was unnecessary—Jeongguk was still holding his hand and wouldn't have willingly put more than a step between them—but the checking made him near giddy anyway.
Bodies closed around them as they reached the middle of the floor and Jimin turned to face him without releasing his hand.
As he started to move, Jeongguk was struck again by how gorgeous Jimin was under the coloured lights.
“You wanted to dance with me,” Jimin said, pouting, leaning closer so he could be heard. “But you’re standing still.”
Jeongguk inhaled Jimin's scent greedily, taking advantage of their closeness as he took Jeongguk’s free hand and placed it against his waist.
The open weave of the shirt created almost no barrier, allowing him to feel Jimin’s warm skin beneath his palm. Jimin's waist was so small. Jeongguk bet he could hold it easily with both hands, fingers nearly—if not actually—meeting.
Jimin watched Jeongguk’s face carefully.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
The answer was little more than breath, but Jeongguk knew Jimin heard it as his smile deepened and he moved closer to begin guiding Jeongguk into a rhythm.
Jeongguk could dance, but he became clumsier beneath the pressure of Jimin’s attention than he had ever been at home. Still, he tried to follow Jimin carefully, matching each sway of his hips and working to keep his hand from gripping too tight.
Jimin moved closer until their chests nearly met, sliding one hand from Jeongguk’s shoulder to the back of his neck. The touch made Jeongguk’s entire body come up in goosebumps, and Jimin’s fingers lingered there, lightly stroking through the short hair near his nape.
Jeongguk wanted to lean into it like a pup.
When Jimin's nails started to scratch lightly, he resisted for no more than three seconds before doing exactly that and tilting his head subtly towards Jimin’s hand.
“Good?” Jimin asked looking up through his lashes.
Jeongguk nodded.
“You don’t talk much when you’re nervous.”
“'M not nervous,” Jeongguk replied.
Jimin’s fingers tightened in his hair just enough to make Jeongguk’s breath catch. “No?”
Jeongguk's eyes roved over Jimin's face. “Maybe a little.”
Jimin smiled, pleased by the admission, and drew him closer by the back of his neck.
Jeongguk’s hand tightened slightly around Jimin’s waist in return, no longer quite so afraid of the contact. Jimin rewarded the confidence by closing the remaining distance until their thighs pressed together too.
Over the course of several songs, Jimin would repeatedly come close and then slip away with a teasing smile. Jeongguk followed him every time, unable to bear even the brief distance, and Jimin laughed whenever he caught the look on his face.
Soon Jimin had his back to him, and for the first few seconds Jeongguk assumed it was another part of the game they had been playing all night, Jimin slipping just far enough away to make him follow. Then, Jimin's hips moved in a slow circle before pressing back into Jeongguk, easing away just far enough to give him a second of relief and then returning with the next heavy beat, his thighs brushing Jeongguk’s as he let his weight settle against him.
He caught Jimin by the hips, fingers spreading over the faded denim as if he could steady himself and Jimin continued to move slowly, letting his hips circle beneath Jeongguk’s palms before pressing back again and again.
It was difficult enough to keep his thoughts straight when Jimin had been facing him.
This was fucking impossible.
Jeongguk had no intention of getting hard in the middle of a packed dance floor, especially not with both of their friends somewhere upstairs and hundreds of strangers around them, so he tried very seriously to think about something else. Anything else.
He concentrated on the song first, picking out the beat and counting along to it in his head, but Jimin’s movements were perfectly in time so it just became another way of paying attention to him. So he tried thinking about home.
Training tomorrow.
Facing the consequences for abandoning his pack all day.
Elder Kim.
Elder Kim nearly did the job and then Jimin moved back so he was pressed flush against his chest and Jeongguk nearly groaned. It was so over. Jimin's floral scent reached him no matter where he moved his head, made headier by the fresh sheen of sweat coating his skin, and Jeongguk's hands felt like they were on fire against Jimin's hips.
Jimin.
That was all his brain seemed capable of focusing on.
Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.
Jeongguk moved his hips back a fraction, desperate for enough space to get himself under control without making his problem obvious, but Jimin's hips followed him.
When he glanced down at the side of Jimin’s face and caught the smallest uplift of his mouth, that told him everything he needed to know. Jimin knew exactly what he was doing, and apparently he found Jeongguk’s increasingly desperate attempts at restraint entertaining.
Something about that—about it being another game? test?—made the heat in Jeongguk's gut worse. Whatever Jimin wanted from him, Jeongguk wanted to give it; but part of him also wanted to push back a bit to see what Jimin would do.
So when Jimin began to ease away again, Jeongguk tightened his hands experimentally around his hips and guided him back. Jimin went still for barely a second before looking back over his shoulder.
Surprise flickered across his face and then he raised a brow, his pleased smile returning.
Jeongguk's wolf practically purred and Jeongguk found himself wondering what else Jimin might let him get away with now that he had pushed back once and been rewarded for it.
Jimin leaned back until his upper body rested against Jeongguk’s chest, his head falling near Jeongguk’s shoulder while the movement of his hips continued beneath the steady beat of the music. Jeongguk could feel the warmth of him everywhere now, from the firm line of Jimin's back against his front to the brush of hair along his jaw.
Jeongguk's hands slid from Jimin’s hips towards the narrow line of his waist without thought, and Jeongguk nearly lost the rhythm altogether when his fingers once again found hot, bare skin through the open weave of Jimin’s shirt.
Jeongguk let his hands settle there, thumbs brushing lightly against his sides while his fingers curved around his waist. Jimin's breath hitched as Jeongguk bent closer without thinking, his face finding the crook of Jimin’s neck, and the first inhale he took nearly knocked him on his ass.
Jimin smelled even better up close. Jeongguk knew there was probably something strange about pressing his face into the neck of a man he had met only hours ago and breathing him in like he had been deprived of oxygen, but he couldn't care less. His nose traced slowly up the column of Jimin’s neck, from the hollow above his collarbone to the softer skin beneath his ear, then back down again.
Somewhere between the second and third breath, Jeongguk began to feel almost scent-drunk, which was ridiculous because there was nothing in Jimin’s scent that could have affected him that way. And yet, the warmth of Jimin’s skin and the floral sweetness clinging to it had worked their way into his head until all he felt was a pleasant buzz.
He was still nosing slowly along Jimin’s neck when he realised Jimin had tilted his head farther aside to give him better access.
A pleased rumble slipped from Jeongguk before he could stop it and his wolf urged him to put his mouth there properly, to drag his tongue over the warm line of Jimin’s throat and then bite down just to find out what sound it would draw from him. The vividness of the desire made him deliberately relax his jaw and press a light kiss beneath Jimin’s ear in hopes of satiating the animal.
Having not been shoved away, Jeongguk kissed him again, a little slower, followed by one a little lower along the side of his neck.
Jimin’s breathing changed, and Jeongguk felt attuned to every small hitch and gasp. He couldn't smell whether Jimin liked what he was doing, but he felt pretty confident given how Jimin relaxed into his chest and kept his neck bent to the side in permission.
When Jimin ground back against him again, Jeongguk’s forehead dropped against his shoulder with a pitiful groan.
He was definitely going to get hard.
Jimin laughed softly, and he sounded so pleased that Jeongguk lifted his head just enough to look at him.
Jimin was already watching him, flushed from dancing, and Jeongguk’s gaze dropped straight to his lips. They were pink and slightly parted, close enough that Jeongguk would barely need to lean in to touch them, and for a second, Jeongguk genuinely considered giving in. Jimin’s eyes dipped to his mouth in return, which only made it worse, but Jeongguk hesitated anyway, unwilling to guess wrong when this was one thing he wanted to know for sure Jimin actually wanted.
Jimin's smile softened before he turned in Jeongguk’s arms, bringing them face to face without putting any further distance between them. His hands settled over Jeongguk’s shoulders while their bodies continued moving together, and every few seconds their noses nearly brushed.
Jeongguk could nearly feel Jimin’s breath against his mouth.
I could kiss him from here, Jeongguk thought.
The thought repeated until it became almost unbearable, a repetitive drum beat in his head, while Jimin's gaze pinned him in place.
Jimin rolled his hips against him again and Jeongguk’s eyes closed briefly, another helpless sound threatening to escape him. When he opened them Jimin looked very pleased with himself.
“You’re enjoying this,” Jeongguk murmured.
Jimin only smiled, then leaned close enough for his mouth to brush the shell of Jeongguk’s ear. “I need to go to the toilet.”
The disbelief must have shown on his face because Jimin laughed.
“Stay here,” Jimin said, smoothing one hand down the front of Jeongguk’s shirt. “I’ll find you.”
Jeongguk nodded dumbly and watched Jimin disappear through the crowd. Only when he was fully out of sight did Jeongguk realise he had been left alone in the middle of the dance floor, overheated and visibly affected, while several strangers danced around him.
He lasted perhaps two minutes on his own before he left the floor and headed towards the corridor where the toilets were, deciding he could wait near the entrance without hovering directly outside the door. That was reasonable. Helpful, even. Jimin had been drinking and the bar was crowded; Jeongguk could make certain nobody bothered him on the way back and make sure that he was easy to find.
He had barely reached the darker hallway when raised voices cut through the music.
“I saw you, Jimin.”
Jeongguk slowed before he reached the corner, the unease already rising in his chest when Jimin answered in a voice that sounded closer to the snappy tone he had when they first met.
“And?”
There was a pause, followed by a sharp laugh from the other man. “Don’t do that.”
Jeongguk rounded the corner and found them halfway down the narrow corridor, far enough from the main room that the music had dulled considerably. Jimin stood with his back near the plaster, one arm folded tightly across himself while a man Jeongguk had never seen before crowded much too close, broad-shouldered, and visibly angry beneath the garish shirt stretched across his chest.
“I can dance with whoever I want,” Jimin said, his voice clipped. “We’re not together anymore.”
Jimin looked more angry than frightened, which was the only reason Jeongguk remained where he was instead of closing the distance between them. He didn't want to be a brute.
“Couldn’t even wait until I was out of the building before you started rubbing yourself all over somebody else,” he said. “Although I suppose expecting you to go five minutes without male attention was optimistic.”
Jimin’s expression hardened. “Move.”
Instead of moving, the man chuckled and leaned closer, as though Jimin’s irritation was childish. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Minnie. You get worked up, start showing off because you want somebody to chase you, and then act offended when anyone calls you on it.”
The nickname sounded ugly in his mouth. More like a dig than an affectionate address. Jeongguk continued moving forward, close enough now to see the tension in Jimin’s shoulders and the way his fingers had curled tightly against his palm. That was enough for Jeongguk to make himself known.
“Jimin-hyung?”
Jimin looked towards him and the brief easing of his face was all Jeongguk needed before crossing the hallway.
The other man straightened as Jeongguk approached, dropping his arm from the wall with a tut as if inconvenienced. His attention travelled over Jeongguk slowly, taking in the width of his shoulders and height. There was a challenge in the look before Jeongguk had said a single word, some silent invitation to measure themselves against each other.
Jeongguk stopped beside Jimin and looked him over instead. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
The answer was clipped, but Jimin shifted closer to him as he said it.
The man’s mouth twisted. “So this is the guy.”
Jeongguk barely spared him a glance, reaching out to unclench Jimin's hands and run his fingers over the little half-moon grooves left in his skin.
“You’ll figure him out,” the man said, addressing Jeongguk directly. “He’s addicted to attention. Makes you think you’re special because he knows exactly how to look at you, exactly when to put out, and then once he knows you’re hooked, everything becomes a fucking test.”
Jimin’s jaw tightened.
“He wants a man to take charge right up until that means hearing no, then suddenly you’re toxic and controlling. Give him what he wants and he loses respect for you; don’t give it to him and he starts looking around for the next guy willing to worship him.”
Jeongguk dropped Jimin's hands and looked at him properly. The man seemed to take that as encouragement, squaring himself towards him as though they were finally having the conversation man to man.
“I'm warning you, man, he’s a good fuck—probably the best you’ll ever have—but that’s it. Not relationship material. He uses sex to keep you chasing him, gets clingy the second your attention goes anywhere else, then calls you possessive when you expect the same loyalty back. You want my advice, enjoy him and don’t make the mistake of taking him seriously.”
He could tolerate the posturing, the stupid little attempts to draw him into some competition about who was stronger or more dominant, but the deliberate humiliation of Jimin made his hands ball into fists. It would feel so good to put this cunt through the wall.
The man’s smile thinned when Jeongguk took a threatening step towards him.
“You want to say that again?”
“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin said as his small fingers closed around his wrist. “We should just go.”
Every instinct Jeongguk possessed was demanding otherwise, but Jimin was asking him to stop and he wasn't a total knothead.
“Okay, Hyung.”
The surprise on Jimin’s face was obvious, and Jeongguk wondered whether he had expected an argument, some insistence that Jeongguk knew better or needed to defend his pride now that another man had challenged it. Jeongguk had no pride invested in this at all; he only cared that Jimin wanted to leave.
“Do you want to go upstairs?”
Jimin nodded, and Jeongguk turned with him without another glance at the man behind them, making sure his body was blocking the man's view.
They had barely made it a few steps when a mocking laugh followed. “Fucking hell, Minnie, you really did find yourself a bitch.” The man sounded pleased with himself again. “Look at him. Built like that and all you have to do is tell him no once and he rolls over for you. What happened to having some fucking balls, bro?”
Jeongguk stopped but only because Jimin had frozen so abruptly that he nearly walked into him.
The man continued to sneer. “He rubs his ass on you for twenty minutes and now you’re letting him lead you around by the dick. Pathetic.”
The insult did not land the way the man intended, that's to say it was like water off a duck's back. Jeongguk had been teased by wolves far more inventive than this loser, and if anything, he found the whole thing pretty confusing, because the man seemed convinced that Jimin being able to ask him not to get in a fight and have Jeongguk listen was somehow humiliating rather than the bare minimum of liking and respecting someone. If Jimin wanted him to stop, why would Jeongguk care more about impressing a stranger than listening to him?
Jimin had turned to look at Jeongguk nervously, lip pulled between his teeth. Jeongguk grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together with a small smile. “He can think whatever he wants. Come on, Hyung.”
Jimin stared at their joined hands for a moment before allowing Jeongguk to lead him away, and the silence behind them felt almost more satisfying than anything Jeongguk could have said.
“Did he hurt you?” Jeongguk asked when they were back in the main room.
“No, he just surprised me.” Jimin was silent for a moment. “That was my ex.”
“I guessed,” Jeongguk said. “He's a real dick, Hyung.”
Jimin laughed. “That's why he's my ex.” He squeezed Jeongguk's hand once and started up the stairs. “Thank you for not hitting him.”
“You asked me not to,” Jeongguk said plainly.
Jimin glanced back over his shoulder and held his gaze for a second, something thoughtful passing over his face before he turned away again. Jeongguk couldn't work out why that answer seemed to affect him, but he barely had time to wonder before they reached the mezzanine and Taehyung spotted them coming.
His grin appeared first at the sight of their joined hands, then vanished when he saw Jimin's face. “What happened?”
The change in his voice caught everyone else’s attention, and by the time Jimin and Jeongguk reached the table, Hoseok had straightened in his seat and Seokjin was already frowning.
“Hajoon's here,” Jimin sighed sitting down and dragging Jeongguk into the seat beside him. “He cornered me near the toilets.”
Seokjin was outraged. “He's banned.”
“I know, Hyung.”
“He is literally barred from the building.” Seokjin was already reaching for his phone, his expression darkening as he unlocked it. “He must have used another ID or got somebody to sign him in upstairs. Fuck, Jimin-ah, I’m sorry. He should never have made it through the door.”
Jimin’s face softened slightly. “Hyung, you didn’t let him in personally.”
Taehyung’s face had gone frighteningly blank. “Where is he?”
“Still downstairs, unless he’s finally scooped his balls back in his pants to leave.”
Seokjin typed a brief message, then raised the phone to his ear and angled himself away from the table. His voice lost every trace of the joking tone he had used earlier as he instructed security to locate Hajoon and check for fraudulent ID.
“Did he put his hands on you?” Yoongi asked once Seokjin ended the call.
“No,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “He blocked the hallway and ran his mouth, but he didn’t touch me. Jeongguk-ah came over before it got worse.”
The answer eased some of the tension around the table, although not enough to stop several pairs of eyes from shifting towards Jeongguk with a wariness that made him frown. Taehyung looked particularly suspicious, while Hoseok’s gaze moved over Jeongguk’s hands.
“What?” Jeongguk asked.
Taehyung leaned forward slightly. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” he said, and when they all looked at him doubtfully he insisted, “I swear I didn't do anything. Jimin-hyung told me we should leave, so we left.”
“Just like that?” Yoongi asked.
Jeongguk frowned at the question. “He asked me to.”
The answer seemed to create another silence, and Jeongguk looked between them in growing confusion. Jimin had been the one Hajoon cornered, so if Jimin wanted to leave rather than stand there while Jeongguk turned it into a fight, there had been nothing to think about.
“He was trying to piss you off,” Jimin said, watching him closely. “You were really angry.”
“I was,” Jeongguk agreed. “Could have pummelled him for how he spoke to you, Hyung.”
“And you still just walked away.”
Jeongguk tilted his head. “I don't—did I do something wrong?”
There were some wolves back home that liked when their mates were brutish and showed off their strength who wanted an alpha to bare their teeth at every perceived insult or start fights over someone looking at them for too long.
Maybe Jimin had expected him to push back harder, to defend him instead of simply turning away when asked. Maybe that startled look Jimin had given him downstairs had not been surprise at Jeongguk listening, but more disappointment that he had folded so easily when another man was humiliating him. Jeongguk was uncomfortable with the thought that he had read Jimin completely wrong.
“No, Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin squeezed his hand. “No, you did exactly what I wanted you to do.”
Jeongguk relaxed a fraction, although he still looked around the table as if waiting for somebody to explain why they had all reacted so strangely.
Yoongi seemed to realise it first. “We’re not judging you.”
“You were all staring at me.”
“We're just surprised,” Hoseok said, gentler than before.
“He also called him my bitch,” Jimin admitted.
Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up while Yugyeom made a disgusted sound.
Taehyung looked murderous again. “He what?”
“It was after we were already walking away,” Jimin said quickly, before Taehyung could gather momentum. “He was trying to get Jeongguk to turn around.”
“And?” Hoseok asked, looking between them.
Jimin’s eyes settled on Jeongguk, and that strange warmth returned to his expression. “And Jeongguk didn’t care.”
Jeongguk shrugged. “Why would I?”
Before anyone could say anything further, Seokjin’s phone buzzed against the table. He snatched it up and whatever he read stripped the joy from his face.
“They’ve got him downstairs,” he said. “And the ID he used belongs to someone else.”
Jimin scoffed. “Naturally.”
Seokjin was already typing again. “Security are keeping him there, and they’re calling the police. I’m not letting him walk out after using somebody else’s identification to deliberately bypass a ban.”
“I'm sorry for ruining everyone’s night,” Jimin said after Yoongi suggested leaving while he was detained in the office downstairs.
“You didn’t,” Namjoon replied. “Hajoon did.”
“It's not ruined. We can just go somewhere else,” Hoseok added. “It’s barely midnight.”
Dokyeom brightened. “Karaoke?”
*****
Whatever ugliness Hajoon had left behind had been thoroughly drowned beneath more alcohol and loud voices.
Seokjin commandeered the first microphone and performed as though he was in front of a sold-out arena, complete with unnecessary ad-libs, while Taehyung and Dokyeom discovered that they sounded annoyingly good together and spent the rest of the night searching the catalogue for songs with harmonies.
Namjoon was perhaps the most entertaining of all, because he sang ballads without hitting a single note correctly. He stood in the middle of the room with one hand pressed over his chest, eyes squeezed shut as he poured everything he had into a song that came out in an entirely different key, while Jimin slowly folded against Hoseok beside him and laughed until no sound came out.
The real surprise came when somebody put on a rap track and Namjoon took the microphone again.
Jeongguk had been preparing himself for another disaster, only for Namjoon’s entire delivery to change the moment the verse began, his rhythm suddenly precise and effortless as he tore through it without stumbling once. Yoongi, who had spent most of the evening happy to watch, took the second one when Namjoon shoved it towards him, and the two of them ended up trading verses so naturally that the room went from heckling them to shouting along within seconds.
Jeongguk stared in awe and Jimin leaned close enough for them to touch. “They used to compete in underground battles as teenagers,” he explained. “It's their party trick.”
Hoseok was incapable of sitting still whenever anything upbeat came on, so Jeongguk eventually let himself be dragged into the narrow patch of floor between the table and television. It began as Hoseok demonstrating part of a routine and Jeongguk copying it, but quickly turned competitive once Hoseok realised Jeongguk could actually keep up. By the third song they were both laughing too hard to take the choreography seriously, barely dodging the low table and nearly crashing into an affronted Seokjin.
When Jeongguk dropped back onto the sofa afterwards, flushed and breathless, Jimin was looking at him with a smile.
“You really undersold the whole ‘I dance a little’ thing.”
Jeongguk took the drink Jimin offered him. “I was only following Hobi-hyung.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes suspiciously but Taehyung had shoved the microphone in Jimin’s face before he could say anything more, saying that the two of them were overdue for a duet, and Jeongguk settled back with his drink as Jimin made his way towards the front of the room.
Jeongguk had already assumed Jimin would sound good, partly because his speaking voice was soft and naturally melodic and partly because Jeongguk was obsessed with everything he did, but the first few lines still caught him off guard.
Jimin’s voice was higher than the others’, clear and bright without ever sounding thin, and when the song opened into the chorus there was enough strength beneath it to surprise him. Jeongguk eventually stopped following the lyrics entirely and simply listened, more interested in the sweetness of Jimin’s tone than anything else.
When Jimin caught him staring near the end and smiled into the next line, Jeongguk felt himself beam back, pleased by the attention.
The song finished with Taehyung stretching the final harmony into a deeper baritone that sounded operatic while Jimin laughed his way through his own part. Jeongguk clapped harder than anyone else and Jimin soon dropped back onto the sofa beside him, thighs touching, and reached for his drink. “What did you think? Am I through to the judge's houses?”
“I liked your voice,” Jeongguk said softly. “A lot.”
Jimin smiled shyly. “Thank you.”
Neither of them looked away, choosing to just smile and stare st each other instead. Jeongguk's eyes moved over Jimin’s face, from the flush still high on his cheeks to the faint freckles across his nose, then lower to his lips, wet from his drink.
Jeongguk’s mind was suddenly going far too fast, wondering whether Jimin would taste much like the drink in his glass or whether his lips were as soft as they looked. More than anything, he wanted to know if Jimin wanted it too, and without a scent to give him an easy answer, he could only cling to the way Jimin’s gaze lingered on his mouth in return.
The moment was broken by Namjoon plopping down next to them and jostling Jeongguk’s shoulder. “You haven’t sung yet.”
Jeongguk had to swallow his growl as he grabbed the microphone from Yugyeom's outstretched hand, although his irritation faded quickly when Jimin settled back against the sofa and looked at him with obvious interest.
He chose something familiar and sang well enough to earn another long stare from Jimin when he finished, followed by an incredulous, “Is there anything you can’t do?” that sent a strong rush of pride through him before his friends started alluding to his competitiveness and perpetual lateness.
It was only when their voices had gone hoarse and every bowl of snacks had been emptied that somebody finally suggested finding actual food, which sent all eleven of them wandering towards the river with bags full of corner-store ramyeon, fried chicken, and whatever else had looked appealing through their ever-fading beer goggles.
By the time they reached the river, they had forgotten who had bought what, so everything was spread across the grass between them while people claimed whatever happened to be closest. Jeongguk sat beside Jimin forgoing any sort of subtlety this time, stretching his legs out towards the water while Jimin folded himself cross-legged into the grass and immediately began tucking in.
Jeongguk discovered that he liked watching Jimin eat, especially once hunger stripped away the last of his restraint and he began taking generous bites of ramyeon that left his cheeks rounded and his lips pursed while he chewed.
He was unbearably cute, and Jeongguk kept catching himself staring whenever Jimin reached for another piece of chicken or leaned across the food spread to grab something new.
Provide, Jeongguk's wolf urged.
Jeongguk pushed what was designated as his kimbap towards Jimin. “Have some.”
Jimin glanced over. “Don’t you want it?”
“I have plenty.”
The satisfaction he felt when Jimin took a piece only encouraged Jeongguk to continue to redirect half his food towards him, offering whatever seemed to catch his interest.
A few minutes later, Jimin stopped bothering to ask and simply grabbed from containers closest to Jeongguk.
The breeze coming off the river picked up as they ate, cool enough that most of Jimin's friends began pulling sleeves over their hands. All it took was Jeongguk noticing Jimin shiver and rub his palms briefly over his upper arms, before he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around Jimin’s shoulders.
Jimin startled beneath the sudden weight and turned towards him with a frown. “You’re going to be cold.”
“I run hot.” Jeongguk glanced pointedly at the way Jimin’s hands had already pulled the front of the jacket together. “Keep it, Hyung.”
Jimin huffed under his breath but made no move to return it, instead he put the jacket on properly, sticking his arms through the sleeves.
Jeongguk's jacket was oversized even on him, so on Jimin it nearly swallowed his frame, dark denim bunching around his arms and falling over his hands. Jeongguk told himself he was only pleased because Jimin was warmer, but he knew it was mainly the fact that Jimin was wrapped in his scent now.
The conversations dwindled as the food disappeared and everyone grew tired, only one topic being discussed at any one time.
Most of them were talking about a new thriller that Jeongguk hadn't seen, something involving two detectives that hate each other having to find a serial killer. Hoseok is convinced one of the detectives is the culprit, but Yoongi thinks that would make half of the series pointless because the entire appeal is watching them slowly realise they work better together than apart.
“You only think that because you want them to fuck,” Taehyung accused.
“I can want two things at once,” Yoongi replied, entirely unashamed. “They can catch the murderer and fuck.”
Jeongguk laughed along with everyone else when Yoongi merely shrugged off all the teasing, and Namjoon launched straight into an explanation of all the lingering looks and suspiciously charged arguments that apparently supported Yoongi's theory.
Jeongguk was still smiling when he caught a small movement in his peripheral vision.
Jimin had drawn the collar of Jeongguk’s jacket closer to his face.
There was nothing unusual about that when the wind had been cutting across the river for the last half hour, so Jeongguk nearly looked away again, until Jimin dipped his chin and tucked his nose briefly into the denim and inhaled. He clearly intended to do it discreetly but Jeongguk spotted the slow rise of his chest and the way his nose remained against the fabric for an extra second before lowering the collar again.
His wolf practically slammed into the front of his consciousness.
He likes our scent.
Jeongguk knew Jimin was human so couldn't really smell him, just some cologne and maybe laundry detergent, but he was happy to let his wolf think whatever it wanted. A giddy warmth was spreading through him and he had to bite the inside of his cheek before his face could split open in an obvious grin.
It didn't take long for Hoseok to break off halfway through a sentence to yawn hard enough that his eyes watered.
“Okay, wow,” he muttered, rubbing at his face before pulling out his phone. “What time is it?”
That prompted several others to check, followed almost immediately by a chorus of groans when they realised how late it had become.
“No wonder I feel like I’ve been awake for three days,” Namjoon said, stretching his legs out before reluctantly getting to his feet.
Once the first person stood, everyone else followed quickly. Seokjin left with Namjoon who suggested they could share a taxi back. Hoseok encouraged them to add his stop to their journey, while Yoongi told them that he was “fine and would just get the night bus”.
His own friends began gathering their things a few minutes later, Mingyu stuffing rubbish into one of the empty plastic bags while Yugyeom glanced over at him. “You coming?”
Jeongguk looked at Jimin beside him before answering. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Mingyu’s eyebrows climbed.
Jeongguk ignored him. “I’ll find you before we have to head back.”
“You’d better,” Dokyeom said, smile tugging at his mouth. “I don't want to have to explain to everyone that we lost you.”
Jeongguk waved—more like shooed—them away before they could become any more irritating. They only moved a short distance before Taehyung, who had lingered behind the rest of his friends, crouched beside Jimin.
His voice dropped low enough that an ordinary person probably wouldn't have caught it. “You sure?”
Jimin glanced briefly towards Jeongguk, then back at Taehyung. “I’m sure.”
Taehyung studied him for another moment before nodding. “Okay. Text me when you get home.”
“I will.”
Then his smile became a smirk. “And give me all the details.”
Jimin shoved at his shoulder with one sleeve-covered hand. “Fuck off.”
“Okay, okay.” Taehyung laughed as he straightened. “I’m serious about the first part though.”
“I know.”
Apparently satisfied, Taehyung said a quick goodbye to both of them and hurried after Jeongguk’s friends, saying that he lived close and was willing to share part of the ride if nobody minded dropping him first.
Jeongguk watched the five of them disappear up the path together.
“Have you really never been in the city before?”
Jeongguk turned his head at the sound of Jimin's voice. “No, not once.”
“But you live close enough that you can get here in one morning.”
Jeongguk shrugged. “I never really had the chance.”
“How? You've clearly been interested in coming from what your friends said.”
Jeongguk tipped his head back, looking at the high-rises beyond the river while he tried to think of an answer that wouldn't make him sound weird or involve telling him the complete truth. “I’ve always been busy.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes at him, but there was more curiosity than suspicion in the look.
“I have a lot of responsibility at home,” Jeongguk said eventually. “I’ve had it since I was sixteen, and once it started, there was always something else I needed to do.”
Jimin looked concerned. “What happened when you were sixteen?”
“Nothing bad,” he assured him, stomach dipping. “I just became...important, I suppose.”
“To who?”
“My…town.”
Jimin’s mouth twitched. “Your town.”
“I know that sounds strange.”
“You're making it sound like you're some sort of mayor.”
Jeongguk snorted. “I’m not the mayor.”
“A beloved local prince?”
Jeongguk nearly laughed aloud at how accidentally close that felt. “Definitely not.”
Jimin's nudged Jeongguk's shoulder with his. “Okay. Explain then.”
“There are people who rely on me, and I’m expected to be involved in a lot of things because of who I am,” Jeongguk said. “If something important is happening, people expect me to be there.”
Jimin watched him. “Do you like that?”
Jeongguk’s first instinct was to say yes. It was the answer he always gave, usually accompanied by some variation of I’m honoured or I’m grateful, because anything less sounded as though he resented the Goddess herself for choosing him. Blessing him.
He found it strangely difficult to give Jimin the same answer.
“Some of it,” he admitted. “I like being able to help and there are people I’d do almost anything for, but…I'm not sure.” He smiled humorlessly. “I know I probably sound really ungrateful.”
“You don’t.”
Jeongguk looked and saw that Jimin had tucked his hands almost completely inside the sleeves of Jeongguk’s jacket, his expression thoughtful as he watched the river. “I think it's normal to want control over your own life.”
Something about how easily Jimin said it made Jeongguk breathe easier. “Even if what people want from you isn’t necessarily bad?”
“Especially then, probably.” Jimin pulled his knees a little closer, disappearing farther into Jeongguk’s jacket. “It’s much easier to know you don’t want something when it’s obviously awful.”
“True.”
“My parents didn’t want me to have anything to do with dance professionally,” he explained, smiling slightly. “They were happy enough when it was a hobby, but I was really good at maths and science in school, still am actually, so naturally they wanted me to be an engineer or a doctor.”
“But it wasn’t what you wanted,” Jeongguk filled in.
Jimin looked at him and nodded. “Exactly. I think people sometimes confuse being good at something with being meant for it.”
Jeongguk knew that well because there were things he was good at because he had, quite literally, been made for them. He could hunt for hours without tiring, fight wolves twice his age and size and win, track through terrain that left others struggling, and if anything ever threatened his pack, there was little doubt about who would be expected to lead the charge. He was a born leader and protector.
“I was seventeen when I finally auditioned for a dance school without telling my parents,” Jimin continued. “Because I knew they’d spend weeks trying to talk me out of it if I gave them the chance.”
“Seventeen?”
“Mhm, and I got in, which meant I had to go home afterwards and explain that I’d already accepted.”
Jeongguk laughed. “You didn’t.”
“It went about as well as you’re imagining,” Jimin said. “They were furious for a while, but they got over it by the time I'd started touring.”
“When did you start teaching?”
“Last year.” The way Jimin couldn't stop his smile from widening told Jeongguk he loved his job before he could say anything else. “Best thing I’ve ever done, honestly. I still get to dance every day, but now I get to see and help other people fall in love with it. I thought I’d miss performing more than I do but…”
“You’re happy.”
Jimin looked at him. “Yeah. Really happy.”
Jeongguk felt an ache at how certain he sounded, something closer to longing than jealousy.
“I think I've been happy here,” Jeongguk admitted after a moment. “At home, people know me before I even meet them, so there’s always an expectation.” Jeongguk's smile was small. “Here…nobody cared about that. About me.”
Jimin looked like the cat that got the cream. “So that's why you enjoyed me being mean to you so much.”
Jeongguk laughed. “Ah, Hyung, I wouldn’t say you were mean.”
“You're too kind, Jeonggukkie, but I definitely was.” Jimin moved so he was kneeling and facing Jeongguk now. “At the stall, I thought you were just some annoying, macho guy trying to flirt with me, so I was deliberately giving you a hard time, but you just kept looking happier every time I was snappy with you.”
Jeongguk felt heat creep into his face. “You noticed that?”
“You are probably the most transparent person I've ever met,” Jimin said as way of answering the question.
Jeongguk groaned and looked towards the river, although his cheeks only flamed hotter when Jimin laughed beside him. “I didn’t realise I was that obvious.”
“It was cute.”
Jeongguk's head shot back to Jimin so fast his neck nearly clicked. “Cute? So when you thought I was some annoying, macho guy trying to flirt with you, you also thought I was cute?”
“I said your reaction was cute.”
“Ah.” Jeongguk nodded slowly. “So you think I'm ugly.”
Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t what I said.”
Jeongguk had to bite back his grin. “Then what did you think?”
Jeongguk waited, enjoying the faint pink beginning to spread over Jimin’s cheeks until Jimin finally rolled his eyes.
“Fine. I thought you were very attractive.”
Jeongguk felt like he'd grown ten feet tall. “Very?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Jeongguk laughed, and Jimin shoved lightly at his shoulder, although he was smiling just as wide.
“You said it, Hyung, not me,” Jeongguk taunted.
“Well, I’m taking it back.”
Jeongguk let his gaze move slowly over Jimin’s face, from the makeup smudged under his eyes to the colour still warming his cheeks. “It’s okay. I think you’re gorgeous.”
Jimin's smile faltered, lips parting slightly as the pink spread to his ears. “You’re only saying that because I called you attractive.”
“Scout's honour,” Jeongguk said, using his index finger to make an 'X' shape over his chest.
Jimin stared at his hand. “That's not Scout’s honour.”
Jeongguk frowned. “It isn’t?”
“You’re supposed to use three fingers.”
Jeongguk looked down at his hand, then slowly raised his eyes back to Jimin’s face. “I can use three fingers if that’s what you want, Hyung.”
There was half a second of silence before Jimin’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God.” He folded himself forward, breaking into helpless laughter. “That was disgusting.”
“You walked into that one.”
Jimin stared at him for another moment before another giggle escaped him, shaking his head as he shifted closer on his knees. “You got comfortable very quickly.”
“You gave me confidence.” Jeongguk let his smile soften and he turned his body, leaning back on both hands and looking at Jimin over his spread knees. “You really are gorgeous, though. I wasn't just saying that.”
Jimin held his gaze, the unwavering colour in his cheeks the only sign that the compliment affected him, before he gave a small hum and adjusted the oversized sleeve covering his hand. “You know, I still owe you a birthday present.”
Jeongguk tilted his head. “I don’t think it’s my birthday anymore, Hyung.”
Jimin’s brows rose. “So you don’t want one?”
“I didn't say that,” Jeongguk said promptly, sitting up a little straighter. “I think you should give me two. One for my birthday and one because it's late and I’ve been very patient.”
“Patient?” Jimin repeated, clearly entertained. “You’ve spent the entire night following me around like a puppy.”
For a second Jeongguk could swear he felt a tail that wasn’t there thumping against nothing at all and he couldn't tell if the heat spreading through his body was embarrassment at being read so easily or pleasure.
“Like a puppy?” he repeated, trying for offence and hearing far too much interest in his own voice.
Jimin gave him a slow once-over. “You follow me whenever I move, you practically glow when I tell you you’ve done something well, and every time I give you attention you get that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The one you have right now.”
Jeongguk quickly tried to rearrange his expression, which only made Jimin laugh.
“You’re proving my point, Jeonggukkie.”
There was something about the nickname paired with puppy that made Jeongguk’s wolf roll over inside him belly-up, and he ducked his head. “I haven’t followed you everywhere,” he muttered.
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “No argument for the rest of it, then?”
“Hyung,” he groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “We were talking about my presents.”
Jimin laughed at the blatant attempt to escape the subject, but mercifully allowed it. “You’re still insisting on two?”
“I’ve earned them.”
“Maybe.” Jimin's hand emerged from the jacket sleeve to rest against his chin.”I only planned one, though.”
“What did you plan? Is it really a candle?”
Jimin shifted on his knees as though he were only trying to get comfortable, but the movement brought him closer until he settled neatly between Jeongguk’s spread legs. Jeongguk’s eyes dropped to Jimin's thick thighs, then returned to his face to find a knowing smile spread across it.
Jimin's hand came to rest lightly against Jeongguk’s knee, his fingers tracing a path through the denim absentmindedly while he watched him, and Jeongguk felt the playful energy between them begin to change when Jimin’s eyes slipped down to his mouth.
The look lasted barely a second before Jimin met his eyes again, but it was enough for Jeongguk's gaze to land on his lips in return. His wolf was worse than him, pressing restlessly beneath his skin with a relentless kiss, kiss, kiss.
His fingers curled into the grass behind him when Jimin wet his lips with a quick sweep of his tongue, leaving a faint sheen of saliva behind that Jeongguk wanted to consume and replace with his own.
Jeongguk swallowed and lifted his eyes again, only to catch Jimin looking at his lips for a second time.
“Hyung.”
Jimin’s eyes returned slowly to his. “Mm?”
Jeongguk knew hope was written all over his face, probably as obvious as every other feeling Jimin had managed to read from him tonight. “Can I kiss you?”
Jimin’s mouth curved as his fingers stilled against Jeongguk’s knee. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”
Jeongguk felt as though somebody had uncorked something fizzy inside his chest and every bubble was rushing upwards at once to make him lightheaded and giddy. Jimin leaned closer so the tip of his cold nose brushed Jeongguk's, while his breath warmed Jeongguk's lips.
Despite everything in him pushing him to close the gap, he waited until he saw Jimin’s eyes fall shut to kiss him.
Jimin’s lips really were warm despite the chill clinging to his skin and plush enough that Jeongguk understood why he had spent half the night staring at them. He tasted both sweet from the drinks earlier and salty from the food they had shared, and Jeongguk smiled into the kiss when Jimin leaned closer instead of away.
Jimin’s hand moved down and tightened around his thigh, fingers squeezing firmly through the denim, and the touch sent a rush of heat through Jeongguk that made the position they were in suddenly feel awkward. He wanted Jimin closer than this, wanted both hands free to hold him properly instead of having one braced uselessly behind him in the grass.
Without breaking the kiss for more than a breath, Jeongguk shifted upright and drew one leg beneath himself, using the hand at Jimin’s cheek to guide him until they were facing each other more comfortably. Jimin went easily, knees settling on either side of Jeongguk’s thigh as he moved closer. The moment Jeongguk had his balance, he moved both hands beneath his jacket before pulling him nearer and kissing him again.
Jimin’s mouth parted beneath his in a gasp, and Jeongguk took advantage of the opening, tilting his head and deepening it.
The little sound Jimin made when their tongues met felt like an electric shock, it was exactly the sort of breathless noise Jeongguk had spent the last few hours imagining, and the satisfaction of finally drawing it from him made him work twice as hard to keep a careful hold on his scent.
One of Jimin's hands slipped into Jeongguk’s hair at the nape while the other remained firmly on his shoulder, and he gripped harder in an attempt to pull Jeongguk closer.
Jeongguk nearly groaned, he could not seem to get enough of him.
Every time Jimin drew back enough to breathe, Jeongguk followed without thinking, catching his lower lip again before the distance could become more than an inch. After the third time, Jimin let out a quiet laugh against his mouth.
“Puppy,” Jimin murmured.
Before he could chase Jimin’s mouth again, Jimin drew back just far enough to breathe properly, and Jeongguk finally got a good look at what kissing him had done.
Jimin had looked beautiful all night, but this was something else entirely. The flush that had started across his cheeks now burned hotter, spreading down his neck and reaching all the way to the tips of his ears. His eyes were wide and unfocused, pupils blown so dark they looked almost black in the low light and his lips—Jeongguk nearly lost whatever remained of his mind over his lips. They were swollen from kissing, fuller than they had looked before and slick with saliva, the lower one flushed almost red where Jeongguk had kept catching it between his own. There was something obscene about how ruined he looked after just a kiss, it made Jeongguk want to dive back in and mark him up, bite and lick him all over until his entire body was flushed pink and red.
“What?” Jimin asked, still sounding breathless.
Jeongguk shook his head faintly. “Nothing, I just—” want to devour you.
Jimin waited, thumb brushing idly through the short hair at Jeongguk’s nape. “You just what?”
Jeongguk swallowed, unable to stop himself from staring again. “You look so good, Hyung.”
Jimin studied him for a moment, gaze moving over Jeongguk’s face. “Do you want to come back to mine?”
*****
The second the door clicked shut behind them Jimin caught the front of Jeongguk's shirt and pulled him back into another kiss.
Jeongguk went willingly, one hand finding Jimin’s waist while the other pushed the door closed properly behind them. Jimin broke the kiss with a gasp and bent down to take his boots off, but Jeongguk followed so closely that Jimin started laughing before he had even managed to get the first one unlaced.
“Jeongguk-ah, give me a second.”
“I am,” he said, running his hands over Jimin's torso.
Jimin glanced up at him in disbelief, and Jeongguk grinned as he toed off his own boots without bothering to untie them, then crouched in front of Jimin and reached for the knot on his other boot.
Jimin rested one hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder for balance, allowing him to tug the boot free before presenting the other foot without being asked. Pleased, Jeongguk untied and removed the other before placing the pair between his own shoes near the door. He straightened and found himself caught by the front of his shirt for the second time before Jimin kissed him.
Jeongguk laughed right into his mouth, arms tightening around Jimin’s waist as Jimin’s hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders to steady himself. Without his shoes on, Jimin only came up to Jeongguk's shoulder and he had to tilt his face up every time he wanted another kiss. Jeongguk liked it far too much.
He dipped his head to meet him again, only for Jimin to smile halfway through and ruin the kiss with another breathless giggle. Jeongguk chased his mouth when he pulled away, catching the corner of it instead before dropping another kiss against his cheek, then his jaw when Jimin twisted away laughing.
“I need oxygen you animal.”
Jeongguk only tightened his arms around his waist and bent enough to kiss him again. Jimin let him have the kiss for only a few seconds before he planted both hands against Jeongguk’s chest and pushed himself back with another giggle.
Jimin was so radiant that it almost hurt to look at him. Some of his blonde hair had fallen out of his braids and curled messily around his pink face and his swollen mouth was stretched into a grin so wide that his eyes had nearly disappeared into crescents. When Jeongguk next took a ragged breath in, it had nothing to do with the effects of kissing.
Jimin caught him staring and tipped his head, giving Jeongguk's chest one last little push before slipping neatly out of his hands.
“Come and get me.”
Jeongguk barely had time to register the words before Jimin turned and ran, his laughter carrying through the flat as he ran towards—what Jeongguk assumed was—the bedroom.
He could have caught him in less than two strides if he wanted, but there was something too good about watching Jimin glance over his shoulder with that bright, delighted grin, so he let him get almost all the way there.
Jimin only just made it across the threshold as Jeongguk's arms circled his waist from behind, and he barely had time to squeal before Jeongguk lifted him clean off the floor.
“Jeongguk-ah!”
Jeongguk turned him in his arms so his legs could wrap around Jeongguk’s waist and he carried him a few steps towards the wall beside the bed. Jeongguk pressed him back against it carefully, taking most of the impact himself while his hands slid beneath Jimin’s thighs to hold him there. “Caught you, Hyung.”
Jimin’s laugh had disappeared somewhere between being lifted off the floor and finding himself pinned gently against the wall. The sudden change in him had concerned Jeongguk until he noticed the colour spreading violently across Jimin’s face and followed his gaze down to the arm hooked securely beneath his thigh.
“Hyung,” he murmured, unable to stop the grin beginning to pull at his mouth, “do you like this?”
Jimin’s wide eyes snapped back to his face. “No.”
Jeongguk shifted his grip beneath Jimin’s thighs and lifted him slightly higher against the wall, more to settle him comfortably than anything else, only to watch Jimin’s lips part in a quick exhale.
“I could keep you like this for ages,” Jeongguk said softly, bringing his face in closer. “You know that, right? I could probably carry you around all night and barely notice.”
“You’re showing off,” Jimin accused.
“Maybe,” Jeongguk admitted, unable to resist flexing his hands beneath Jimin’s thighs as he leaned nearer still until the tips of their noses brushed, watching the way Jimin’s lashes fluttered. “But you’re not exactly acting like you want me to put you down, Hyung.”
“Shut up,” he muttered, but the words lacked any bite. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”
“I was getting there, Hyung.”
Jimin made an exasperated sound and lightly scratched the back of Jeongguk's neck. “You’re still talking. Just talk, talk, talk with yo—mmf.”
There was no build-up this time. The moment Jeongguk’s mouth met Jimin’s, the kiss was already deep and hungry. Jimin tilted his head to fit them together more closely and matched his pace, one hand still at Jeongguk's nape as Jeongguk caught his lower lip between his own and sucked gently before coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. Jimin yielded immediately, lips parting beneath his, and let out a barely audible, breathy moan.
Jeongguk kissed him like he had all the time in the world, angling his head to fit their mouths together more snugly, drinking in every tiny noise Jimin fed him.
Jimin bucked involuntarily and ground his half-hard cock against Jeongguk's stomach. The friction made them both groan, the sound tangling between their mouths. Jeongguk's hands tightened on Jimin's thighs, fingers digging into the denim, and he eliminated all remaining space between them. Jeongguk was certain he could use his body alone to keep Jimin pinned up against the wall.
Their mouths broke apart only because neither of them could breathe properly anymore, and Jeongguk immediately buried his face against Jimin’s neck instead.
Jimin’s head tipped back against the wall with a shaky inhale as Jeongguk kissed beneath his jaw, then lower, his mouth turning increasingly greedy as the scent of Jimin’s skin filled his head. He caught a small patch between his teeth and nipped at it gently before soothing it with his tongue.
“Gguk-ah,” Jimin breathed, fingers tightening in his hair.
He kissed the same place again, then continued to drag his mouth slowly along the side of Jimin’s throat, unable to decide whether he wanted to kiss him everywhere or simply stay buried there forever. Jimin was panting now, his thighs still in a vice grip around Jeongguk’s waist as though he had no intention of being put down.
Jeongguk knew the feeling. He wanted closer, wanted more, wanted Jimin everywhere until there was no room left inside his head for anything else.
“Touch me,” Jimin said.
Jeongguk pulled back. His eyes were wide, dark, entirely focused on Jimin's face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jeongguk nodded eagerly, freeing one hand from Jimin's thigh to the front of his jeans. His palm pressed flat against the half-hard length he found there making Jimin's hips jerk forward into his hand.
“Like this?” Jeongguk asked, rubbing slowly through the fabric.
Jeongguk watched Jimin's face the entire time. The way his brows drew together and mouth fell open; every reaction a reward. He rubbed a little harder, cupping his hand and dragging the heel of his palm along the length of Jimin's cock, feeling it firm up under his touch.
“You're so pretty,” Jeongguk said, almost to himself. “You know that?”
Jimin let out a strangled laugh. “You're—you're telling me that while—”
“While what?” Jeongguk squeezed gently, and Jimin's sentence dissolved into a moan. “While I'm making you feel good?”
Jimin's eyes squeezed shut as he panted. “Jeongguk—” His name came out more like a moan. Jimin's hips rolled again, grinding into his palm, chasing the friction like he couldn't help himself. “More. Please. I need—”
“What do you need?” Jeongguk murmured. He pressed his palm flat against Jimin's clothed erection, adding pressure without stroking, just holding him there. Jimin whined high in his throat, his hips bucking reflexively. “Tell me.”
“I need—” Jimin swallowed hard. His fingers were still tangled in Jeongguk's hair, tugging. “I need you to touch me. Actually touch me, not through—just—”
Jeongguk's hand stilled. He could feel Jimin's cock throbbing against his palm through the denim, the heat of him almost scalding. His own cock was filling out too, pressing thick and heavy against the inside of his jeans, and when he angled his hips right the hard line of his erection ground against the curve of Jimin's ass.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk said against his jaw, barely there stubble scraping skin. “I want to ask you something.”
Jimin made a frustrated sound, his hips canting forward into nothing, chasing the pressure that had disappeared. “What—why—”
Jeongguk's mouth found the spot just below Jimin's ear, that tender place where his pulse hammered fast and wild. He sucked a bruise there and Jimin's fingers pulled at his hair hard enough to sting.
“Could you sit on my face?” Jeongguk asked, pulling back enough to look at him.
Jimin's breath caught audibly as his whole body went still against the wall.
“I want—” Jeongguk swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. “I want my mouth on you. I want to taste you. I want you to ride my tongue until you come, Hyung.”
Jimin's lips parted, closed, parted again and Jeongguk felt a small stone of dread drop into his stomach at the lack of a response. Maybe humans don't do that. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Ruined it.
“How are you real?” Jimin whispered, then louder, “Jesus Christ, Jeongguk—Yes. Fuck yes. I want to sit on your face. I want— god, I want that so bad I might actually die if you don't—”
Jeongguk pulled Jimin away from the wall and lowered him onto the mattress with surprising gentleness. Jimin landed with a soft bounce, hair fanning across the pillow, and looked up at Jeongguk like a siren that lured sailors to rocks.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk breathed as he looked at him. Jimin's throat was marked with blooming pink circles where Jeongguk had been unable to keep his mouth away from it. The white net tank clung to his chest, the loose weave doing nothing to hide the hardened peaks of his nipples or the flush that had spread across his collarbones. And over it all—Jeongguk's own jacket, slipping off one shoulder, the sleeves too long, swallowing Jimin's arms whole. He looked like he was being eaten alive by it.
His jeans were still buttoned, but the denim strained obscenely over the hard line of his cock and there was a dark spot at the front where he'd been leaking. He was clearly, achingly hard, and his hips shifted on the mattress like he couldn't get comfortable, thighs pressing together and then parting.
It was at that moment Jeongguk knew he was going to be sure to ruin Jimin for anyone else.
Jimin let out an annoyed whine and his fingers twisted in the sheets. “Stop looking at me like that and do something.”
Jeongguk climbed onto the bed. He planted one knee between Jimin's legs and braced his hand on the other side of Jimin's hip, caging him in without quite touching him. Jeongguk grabbed the jacket and the tank together. His fingers hooked into the collar of the denim jacket and the hem of the net tank both, and he dragged both garments up Jimin's torso in one impatient motion.
Jimin gasped as the fabric raked up his body, and his arms lifted without being told so Jeongguk could pull both garments over his head in one go.
Jeongguk tossed them behind him, quick to get his hands back on him. He kissed the centre of Jimin's sternum, felt the hammering heartbeat beneath his lips, then dragged his mouth sideways, catching one nipple between his teeth and biting down.
Jimin's back bowed off the mattress with a hiss. His hand shot to Jeongguk's hair, fingers sinking in and pulling, and his hips punched up, cock grinding against Jeongguk's thigh.
“Gguk—Gguk—”
Jeongguk's tongue lapped over the bitten nipple, soothing, then he sucked it into his mouth and Jimin's his head fell back, exposing the hickeys on his throat.
Jeongguk switched to the other nipple, sucking it in and rolling it between his lips while his hands slid down Jimin's sides. His eyes caught on something and he paused.
Curving along the bottom edge of Jimin's ribcage on his left side, in bold, blocky capital letters—NEVERMIND.
Jeongguk traced the word, following the curve of bone beneath it. The ink was stark against Jimin's flushed skin, the letters stretched slightly with the expansion of his ribs as he breathed.
“Nevermind,” Jeongguk read aloud.
Jimin looked at him from below, chest heaving. “Reminder to stop overthinking.” He let out a breathy laugh. “I'm bad at it.”
Jeongguk leaned down and kissed the word—pressed his lips to each letter, tongue tracing the shape of the N, the E, the V—and Jimin's fingers tightened in his hair, his hips rolling up in slow, grinding circles.
Jeongguk pressed one more kiss to the ink, then sat back and reached for Jimin's jeans. His fingers unbuckled the belt, found the button, and popped it open. Then he gripped the zipper and yanked it down, hands hooking into the waistband of both the jeans and the underwear beneath so he could tug them down together.
“Lift for me, Hyung,” Jeongguk said.
Jimin planted his feet and lifted his hips and Jeongguk dragged the denim and cotton down together in one rough pull over the swell of his ass, down the meat of his thighs.
Jeongguk's eyes dragged down Jimin's body slowly. A dark trail of hair scattered downward from his navel, thinning before it thickened again around the base of his cock—which was flushed dark red, curved up toward his stomach, the head slick and shining, a thick bead of pre-cum sitting at the tip and slowly sliding down the shaft. Fuck, Jeongguk thought.
And then his gaze dropped lower and landed on the full, heavy swell of his ass pressed into the mattress.
His cock throbbed and he could almost feel the swelling starting already, the telltale tightness at the root of his cock where the knot would form. He exhaled through his nose as his hand dropped to press flat against his own lower stomach and then down, past the waistband of his jeans, to press hard against the base of his cock through the denim. It wasn't supposed to happen outside his rut. It never happened outside his rut. He had it under control—had always had it under control—but Jimin was beneath him, naked and wrecked, and smelling like sweat and pre-cum and fucking flowers, and his body was lit like a live-wire.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin said. “You look like you're about to pass out.”
“I'm fine,” Jeongguk said, voice rough. “I just—I need a second.”
“A second?” Jimin pushed himself up on his elbows, eyebrows drawing together. Then, understanding dawned and an amused smirk graced his face. “Are you telling me you're too turned on?”
Jeongguk closed his eyes, a bit embarrassed. “Jimin.”
“That's 'Hyung' to you,” Jimin said. “Are you going to come before you've touched me, puppy?”
An actual, genuine, pathetic whine, was dragged out of him by nothing but Jimin's teasing voice and the word puppy and Jeongguk fought the urge to cover his ears in mortification.
Jimin's lips parted. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking fresh pre-cum. “Jeongguk-ah,” he breathed. “Did you just—”
Jeongguk's hands shot out and grabbed Jimin by the hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his waist, and he hauled Jimin up and over in one fluid motion. Jimin yelped—a startled sound that cracked into a breathless laugh—and his hands scrambled, knees sliding against the sheets, and before he could get his bearings, Jeongguk had dropped flat onto his back and dragged Jimin on top of him.
Jimin's knees landed on either side of Jeongguk's head, hovering just above Jeongguk's mouth, and Jeongguk grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled.
“Jeongguk—what—”
“Sit,” Jeongguk said, and his voice was wrecked. He squeezed Jimin's ass until it spilled between his knuckles and groaned. The sound was muffled against Jimin's inner thigh. “Hyung, sit on my face.”
Jimin didn't need to be told twice. The full weight of Jimin's ass settled onto Jeongguk's mouth, and Jeongguk groaned again, sound vibrating against Jimin's skin. His tongue was already out, dragging a long, wet stripe from the base of Jimin's balls back to the tight furl of his hole. Jimin tasted nearly as good as he smelled and his eyes nearly rolled back in his skull.
Jimin's whole body jolted and his hands scrabbled at the headboard. His cock, hard and flushed dark, dragged directly across the bridge of Jeongguk's nose and forehead as he started to move his hips.
“Oh—oh, fuck—Gguk—”
Jeongguk pressed his tongue harder against the rim, feeling the muscle twitch and flutter. He squeezed Jimin's ass—fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks, pulling the cheeks wider apart so he could get deeper—and the flesh was so fucking soft between his fingers. He kneaded it roughly, he couldn't get enough of the feel of it.
“Your ass, Hyung—” Jeongguk pulled one hand back just enough to land a light open-palmed smack on the curve of Jimin's right cheek to make it jiggle, and then grabbed it again, squeezing hard, pulling it to the side so he could get his tongue deeper. “Fuck, your ass—”
Jimin keened as he ground down and Jeongguk pointed his tongue and pushed in.
Jimin's hole gave slowly, and Jeongguk fucked his tongue in deep, tasting the heat of him, feeling the walls clench and flutter. He pulled out, circled the rim, pressed back in then pulled out again and dragged his tongue higher to lap at the strip of skin between Jimin's hole and his balls. He tilted his head back so that he could suck one of Jimin's balls into his mouth, rolling it gently against his tongue.
“Ah—” Jimin's back arched and his hands slid down the headboard, “Jeongguk—fuck—what are you—”
Jeongguk released his ball with a wet pop and licked back down slowly, pressing his tongue flat against Jimin's perineum and dragging down, down, down until he reached the rim again. He kissed it the twitching muscle gently and then dove back in.
“Gguk—Gguk—you're gonna make me—”
“Not yet.” Jeongguk pulled back just enough to speak, lips brushing the wet rim, and his hands spread Jimin's ass wide again—thumbs pressing into the crease, holding him open. He stared at Jimin's wet and pink hole, now slightly loose from his tongue, clenching and unclenching faintly, and his cock throbbed so hard behind his jeans that he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second. “Not yet, Hyung. I'm not done.”
“Jeongguk—”
When he resumed, he was relentless. His tongue fucked deeply into Jimin—pushing in, pulling out, circling, pushing in again—and his hands worked Jimin's ass the whole time, squeezing and kneading and spreading, pulling the cheeks apart only to press them back together, feeling the soft flesh yield and bounce under his palms. Jimin sobbed, hips stuttering, his cock dragging forward across Jeongguk's face again, leaving a wet streak.
“Please—” Jimin's voice was thin, cracking, barely above a whisper. “Gguk, please, I can't—you feel so—fuck—”
Jeongguk pulled back, breathless, mouth wet, and looked up at Jimin from below.
“You're so pretty here, Hyung,” Jeongguk said, and pressed another kiss to Jimin's rim. “So fucking pretty. I want to stay here all night.”
When Jeongguk fucked his tongue back in, Jimin made a sound that wasn't a word and collapsed forward with a moan, forehead hitting the headboard.
He could feel Jimin getting close. It was obvious in the way his hole was clenching tighter, fluttering around his tongue, and the way his thighs were shaking so hard they could barely hold him up.
Jeongguk pulled one hand off Jimin's ass—left hand still spreading the right cheek wide, holding him open—and reached up and around, wrapping his fingers around Jimin's cock from the front. It was slick with pre-cum and he stroked once, twice, thumb swiping over the head on the upstroke. Jimin's hips stuttered, caught between grinding down onto Jeongguk's tongue and fucking forward into his fist, his cock sliding through Jeongguk's grip and balls dragging across Jeongguk's face with every thrust.
“Gguk—Gguk, I'm—fuck—I'm gonna—”
Jeongguk pulled his tongue out, pressed it flat against Jimin's rim, and stroked Jimin's cock faster.
Jimin's body locked up and a loud moan tore out of him. His cock pulsed in Jeongguk's grip, and cum spilled over Jeongguk's fingers, shooting forward onto the headboard in white ropes. His hole spasmed against Jeongguk's tongue, and his thighs shook.
Jeongguk worked him through it, feeling every aftershock ripple through Jimin's body. He only relented when Jimin's muscles gave out and he slumped forward, his chest heaving.
After a moment, Jimin lifted himself on shaky thighs and slid back off Jeongguk's face. Jeongguk could feel the spit on his chin, starting to dry as the air hit it. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and still carried the ghost of Jimin's taste. His jaw ached faintly from how long he'd been working, how deep he'd gone, and he didn't regret a single second of it.
He blinked up at the ceiling. Then Jimin came into view, and Jeongguk's breath stopped.
Jimin was sitting back on his heels, one hand braced on the mattress. He was wrecked. Completely, devastatingly wrecked—flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and sweat making his skin gleam. He looked like the most beautiful thing Jeongguk had ever seen in his life. And Jeongguk had done that.
Jimin looked at him dazed and hungry at the same time, and the expression was so openly wanting that Jeongguk felt another spike of arousal. His cock jerked against the denim, and he let out a shaky breath.
“Come here,” Jimin said as he tugged at Jeongguk's hair gently. Jeongguk pushed himself up onto his elbows, closing the distance. Jimin's free hand came up and cupped his jaw, thumb dragging through the wet mess on his chin, and Jeongguk felt the spit and slick getting pushed around under Jimin's fingers.
“Look at you,” Jimin murmured. His thumb stroked through the mess, almost tender. “You were so fucking good to me, Gguk-ah. So good. You made me come so hard I couldn't breathe.”
Jeongguk's throat tightened. His cock jumped against the denim, and he felt the belt bite into his hips. “Hyung—”
“Shh.” Jimin leaned in and kissed him.
Jimin licked into his mouth and Jeongguk wondered if he could taste himself as he moaned into it, hands coming up to grip Jimin's bare waist. The skin was hot under his palms, and Jeongguk pulled him closer, feeling Jimin's spent cock press soft against his stomach. Jimin kissed him deeper, tugging harder at his hair, and Jeongguk's hips bucked involuntarily, grinding his trapped cock against Jimin's thigh. The friction was barely anything through the thick denim, and it still made him gasp into Jimin's mouth.
“My turn,” Jimin said softly when he pulled back. “Let me undress you hm.”
Jimin's hands found the hem of Jeongguk's black top and tugged upward. The air hit his bare skin and he saw Jimin's gaze drop and stay there.
“Fuck,” Jimin said quietly. His hand came up and pressed flat against Jeongguk's sternum, little fingers spreading wide.
Jeongguk stayed still. Let Jimin touch him. Wanted to give him whatever he needed—wanted to be whatever he needed. The urge was thrumming through his blood like a second heartbeat. Tell me what you want. I'll do it. I'll be it.
Jimin's palm moved over his chest, and when his thumb caught on Jeongguk's nipple, Jeongguk inhaled quickly, abs tightening. Jimin's eyes snapped to the movement, and his hand pressed harder—dragging over the ridges of Jeongguk's stomach, fingertips dipping into each groove, squeezing the muscle at his side like he needed to confirm it was real.
“Jesus Christ,” Jimin muttered. Both hands now, roving across Jeongguk's shoulders, down his arms, wrapping around his biceps and squeezing until his fingers dented the muscle.
Any teasing remark Jeongguk could have made escaped him. He was too busy feeling every point of contact between Jimin's hands and his skin burning like a brand, every squeeze and press sending heat pooling low in his gut.
Jimin leaned in and pressed his mouth to Jeongguk's chest, dragging it across Jeongguk's collarbone, then lower, tongue tracing the valley between his pecs. Jeongguk's hand came up and cradled the back of Jimin's head gently.
“What do you want?” Jeongguk asked. His thumb stroked through the damp hair at Jimin's nape. “Tell me, Hyung. I'll give you anything.”
Jimin pulled back. His eyes were glassy, cheeks still flushed a deep red. “You,” Jimin said. “Want you to fuck me.”
Jeongguk nodded eagerly. Yeah. Yes. He wanted to take Jimin apart, wanted to feel him shake and clench and fall apart, wanted to make him drool and whine and cry. So pretty like that.
Jimin's fingers weren't steady as he worked the belt buckle open, and the leather hissed as he pulled it through the loops. He popped the button of Jeongguk's jeans and drew the zipper down tooth by tooth.
Jeongguk lifted his hips, and Jimin pulled everything off and like Jeongguk had done, threw them behind him without care. The cool air hit Jeongguk's skin and his cock smacked hard and heavy and leaking against his stomach, the head flushed so dark it probably looked painful.
Jimin's eyes widened and his hand wrapped around Jeongguk's cock on automatic, fingers closing around the shaft, and Jeongguk hissed, hips jerking up into the grip.
“Of course you'd be fucking hung,” Jimin snorted as he stroked slowly once. Jeongguk saw that his fingers couldn't quite close around the girth and had to work on his breathing to make sure he wouldn't come all over Jimin's hand.
“Hyung—” Jeongguk's voice cracked.
“Shh.” Jimin squeezed again and Jeongguk's hips jerked up into his fist. Then Jimin met his eyes. “You're gonna need to stretch me a lot to take this, baby. If I don't prep properly, you're gonna split me in half.”
Baby. Jeongguk swallowed hard. “I'll make it good for you. I'll go slow. Whatever you need—I'll do whatever you need.”
Jimin laughed breathlessly. “Still so eager. Such a good puppy.”
His tone was again a little teasing but Jeongguk only nodded shamelessly. He wanted to be Jimin's puppy. Wanted to be good for him, wanted to serve him, wanted to earn every sound he could pull out of that pretty mouth.
Jimin leaned in and kissed him quick and dirty, before he reached over, and yanked the bedside table's drawer open. He pressed a bottle of lube into Jeongguk's hand and then turned over onto his stomach.
When Jeongguk first caught sight of the moon phase tattoos that ran down Jimin's spine in a vertical column, starting between his shoulder blades and trailing down to the small of his back, Jeongguk nearly dropped the lube.
Something hot and territorial and primal shot through him. He knew it was only a tattoo to Jimin, that humans wore moons for a hundred ordinary reasons, but his instincts reacted as though the Goddess herself had marked him. He reached out and touched—fingertips tracing the full moon between Jimin's shoulder blades.
Jimin turned his head with a small smile. “You like them?”
Jeongguk's throat clicked. His mouth opened, but nothing came out; at least nothing coherent. Inside his head it was a roaring, white-noise cacophony of moon moon moon and mine mine mine.
“Yeah, hyung,” Jeongguk said. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I like them.”
Jimin's smile widened and he turned his face back into the pillow.
Jeongguk's hand was trembling when he popped the cap on the lube. He squeezed too much out onto his fingers, coating them thoroughly, and the slick sound was loud in the quiet room. He spread Jimin's cheeks with his clean hand, thumbs pulling apart gently, and looked. Jimin's hole was small, pink, clenched tight.
“Tell me if anything is too much,” Jeongguk said. Thankful his voice was steady despite the hammering of his pulse.
When all he got back was an impatient wiggle, Jeongguk pressed one slick finger against Jimin's hole and pushed in slowly. Jimin moaned into the pillow as the muscle relaxed until his finger slid in to the first knuckle.
“Good,” Jeongguk murmured, and he heard Jimin's breath shudder. “Taking it so well, Hyung.”
He pulled his finger back and pushed in again, setting a languid rhythm, and his free hand continued to knead the plush muscle of Jimin's ass.
“More,” Jimin said, voice muffled against the pillow. “Add another. I can take it.”
Jeongguk huffed as he pulled his finger almost all the way out, then pushed back in with two, watching Jimin's hole strain around the width of them. Jimin hissed, hips shifting, and Jeongguk paused with his fingers buried to the second knuckle.
“Can you?” Jeongguk asked, voice low and a little cocky. He curled his fingers inside Jimin, feeling the walls clench and release around him. “You're already so tight around two, Hyung. And you know my fingers are bigger than yours, right?”
Jimin made a frustrated sound into the pillow and pushed his hips back, trying to fuck himself onto Jeongguk's hand. Jeongguk pressed his free hand flat against the small of Jimin's back and held him down.
“Stop rushing me,” Jeongguk said. “I've waited all day for this, Hyung. I'm going to take my time with you.”
Jimin turned his head just enough for Jeongguk to see the furrow of his brow and the way his lips were pressed into a thin, irritated line. “You're such a—”
“Good puppy?” Jeongguk offered, and watched Jimin's jaw clench. “That's what you called me, right? Let me make you feel good, Jimin-ah.”
“Hyung,” Jimin stressed, a little stroppily, but he turned back around. “Could at least do something,” he muttered. “You're just sitting there—”
Jeongguk started moving his fingers in slow, deep thrusts, pulling out until only the tips remained and pushing back in until his knuckles pressed against Jimin's entrance. Each stroke dragged against the walls, feeling the way Jimin's body opened and clenched around him. He resumed kneading Jimin's ass with his other hand and Jimin's complaints dissolved into pants and soft moans.
“Something like this?” Jeongguk asked. “This good, hyung?”
Jimin didn't answer, too busy rocking his hips back in small, grinding circles, chasing the pressure. Jeongguk curled his finger, searching, and when Jimin's breath caught sharply and his hips snapped into the mattress, he knew he'd found it. He pressed gently against the firm swell and Jimin moaned into the pillow.
“There,” Jimin gasped. “Fuck—right there, Gguk—”
Jeongguk rubbed the pads of his fingers against the swollen knot of Jimin's prostate and felt Jimin shake beneath him from his thighs up through his spine.
“Found it,” Jeongguk murmured. He kept the pressure steady, rubbing in slow circles, and watched Jimin's back arch further. “You're shaking already, Hyung. Just from two fingers.”
“Shut—shut up—” Jimin's voice was wrecked. “Just—add another, I can take it, I can—”
Jeongguk pulled out slowly, added more lube—enough so excess dripped down Jimin's crack—and pressed three fingers against Jimin's entrance. The stretch was more visible now, Jimin's hole straining around the width, and Jeongguk watched with dark, hungry eyes as he pushed in and felt Jimin's body go rigid.
“Deep breath,” Jeongguk said, running a hand up and down his back. “You can take it. I know you can.”
“I know,” Jimin groaned. “That's why I need—just—give me a second.”
Jeongguk waited as Jimin's breathing slowed and the ring of muscle loosened around his fingers. Then he pushed in deeper so he was buried to the knuckle, and Jimin made a broken sound, hips canting up to fuck himself back onto Jeongguk's hand.
Jeongguk watched, transfixed, as Jimin's hips rocked back onto his hand in slow, grinding rolls. Three fingers buried deep, and Jimin was taking it, swallowing him up with nearly no effort at all. The sight of Jimin falling apart because of him sent a lick of pleasure straight down Jeongguk's spine.
He started scissoring his fingers. Slowly spreading them apart inside Jimin, feeling the walls stretch and give, feeling the way Jimin's body fought it for a second before relaxing open. He pulled back, spread his fingers wide, and watched Jimin's hole stretch around the gap, then he pushed back in.
“Oh—fuck—” Jimin near whimpered. “Gguk—what are you—”
“Stretching you out,” Jeongguk said. “I have to if you want me to fuck you, Hyung.”
Jeongguk could see the flush crawling down Jimin's shoulders. He scissored his fingers again and Jimin's thighs spread apart like a reflex, back arching more as he chased it.
Jeongguk's gaze dropped to where his fingers disappeared inside Jimin and leaned down without thinking to press an open-mouthed kiss to Jimin's ass.
Mark him. His wolf urged. Mark. Mark. Mark.
In an attempt to shut his wolf up and to not seem like an animal his teeth pressed against the flesh, only with enough force to lightly dent the skin.
Jeongguk pulled back when Jimin whined and ran his tongue flat over the barely there impression his teeth had left. His wolf was snarling inside him, but he shoved the possessive mutt down and away.
“Sorry, Hyung,” he murmured against the skin. “Couldn't help it.”
“Did you—” Jimin was half-laughing, half-incredulous as he turned his head. “You—did you just bite my ass?”
Jeongguk's face went hot. The flush crawled up his neck, spread across his cheeks, and he was grateful that his face was still pressed near Jimin's ass because there was no hiding the way his ears went red.
“You did.” Jimin's eye crinkled. “You bit my ass because you're a possessive little puppy who can't keep his teeth to himself.”
“...Yeah,” he admitted quietly, sufficiently abashed. “I did.”
Jimin's laugh was more air than sound, but it was warm. He rolled his hips back onto Jeongguk's fingers slowly which made Jeongguk's breath catch.
“I liked it,” Jimin said, a little cheekily as his eyes glittered. Beautiful. “Do it again later. I want marks.”
Fuck.
Jeongguk's cock throbbed against his thigh and he had to breathe through his nose for a second because the image of Jimin covered in his marks, teeth prints blooming red across his skin, was enough to make him lightheaded.
In the time it took Jeongguk to shake the thoughts from his head, Jimin had already started working himself up again on his fingers. Jeongguk curled his fingers and was sure to rub in a slow, tight circle that dragged across the full surface of his prostate.
Jimin's whole body jolted like he'd been electrocuted and Jeongguk saw the moons on his spine rippling as the muscles beneath them contracted. The sound that tore out of him was guttural and his hands fisted the sheets.
“Fuck—Gguk—” Jimin's voice cracked. His hips chased the pleasure without any semblance of control or co-ordination. “Right there—right there—don't—don't stop—”
Jeongguk wasn't doing much of anything but he didn't stop. He held his fingers exactly where they were—three buried to the knuckle, pads pressed firm against that swollen bundle of nerves—and let Jimin ride his hand. He watched slack jawed as Jimin let out pitchy moans and hitched gasps.
“Gguk—” Jimin's voice pitched up. His fingers twisted in the torn sheets, knuckles white, and his face turned to the side—eyes squeezed shut, lips swollen and parted, wet with spit and bitten raw. “Jeon—I'm gonna come—if you don't stop I'm gonna—”
“Don't stop—” Jimin gasped, and his hand shot back, fingers wrapping around Jeongguk's wrist, pulling. “Stop, stop, stop—Gguk, stop—”
Jeongguk pulled his fingers out too fast and immediately wanted to punch himself in the face. He sat back on his knees, hands hovering uselessly over Jimin's body, not sure where to touch, not sure if he should touch. “Did I hurt you? Fuck—I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I should've—”
Jimin giggled and turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder. His eyes were heavy-lidded and glassy, he looked absolutely destroyed; and he was laughing.
“It's fine,” Jimin said, softly.
“I—yeah—okay—but did I—”
“You didn't hurt me.” Jimin shifted onto his elbows, and the movement made his back arch. His hole was still open—wet and clenching around nothing—and the sight made Jeongguk's mouth go dry even through the panic. “I told you to stop because I'm about to come, and I don't want to come on your fingers.”
“You—Hyung, what the hell?” His voice cracked on the last word, pitching up.
“I want to come on your cock, baby.” Jimin said it like it was obvious. “And I don't think I have three in me.”
Jeongguk exhaled shakily, dropping his forehead against Jimin's shoulder blade, and laughed.
“You absolute menace,” he murmured into Jimin's skin. “You could've led with that.”
Jimin was still giggling, the vibration of it travelling through his back and into Jeongguk's chest. “I just told you to stop.”
“You grabbed my wrist—”
“Because you weren't listening to my words—”
“You said don't stop and then stop three times in a row, my brain short-circuited, Hyung, I thought—” He bit down on Jimin's shoulder gently to cut himself off. Just enough to anchor himself, to feel the solid warmth of Jimin's body under his teeth. Jimin inhaled sharply beneath him and pushed back into it.
“Gguk,” Jimin murmured. His hand came up and back, finding Jeongguk's hair, fingers sinking in and tugging gently. “Puppy. Breathe.”
“I'm fine.”
Jimin snorted, but his fingers kept moving through Jeongguk's hair and after a moment Jeongguk lifted his head. He pressed his mouth to the mark he'd just left on Jimin's shoulder, then higher, to the back of his neck, then to the spot just below his ear.
“Kiss me properly,” Jimin said, turning his head. His voice had gone soft. “Come on.”
Jeongguk leaned forward and Jimin twisted beneath him. It was awkward, the angle weird with Jimin still face-down, but they made it work. Jimin's mouth found his from over his shoulder and Jeongguk kissed him like he was starving. Their tongues slid together and Jeongguk made a low, wanting sound, as one hand cupped Jimin's jaw to hold him in place while the other traced the line of his spine.
Jimin hummed into the kiss and his fingers tightened in Jeongguk's hair.
When they finally broke apart, Jeongguk's lips were tingling and his cock was aching. He'd almost forgotten about it. Almost. Now the ache came roaring back, and he shifted his hips involuntarily, grinding against the curve of Jimin's ass.
“How do you want it, Hyung?” Jeongguk asked barely above a whisper, mouth still close enough to Jimin's that their lips brushed when he spoke. “Tell me how you want it. I'll do whatever you want. Anything. Just tell me.”
“Want it like this,” Jimin said. He hitched his hips back up. “Face down. Just like this.”
“You're sure?” Jeongguk asked. His thumb traced the dip of Jimin's spine.
“Told you what I want, Gguk-ah.” Jimin's voice had gone breathy but there was still a bratty edge to it, still that demanding lilt that made Jeongguk's stomach flip. “Aren't you going to give me what I want?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk said, already moving to grab the lube again. “I'll give you what you want, Hyung.”
Jeongguk poured a generous amount into his palm, more than he probably needed, and wrapped his hand around his cock. The first touch made him hiss through his teeth. He was so hard it bordered on painful, the skin of his shaft flushed dark and sensitive, and the cold lube was a shock against all that heat. He stroked himself slowly and watched Jimin's back as he did it.
“Stop staring at me and hurry up,” Jimin said into the pillow.
Jeongguk huffed a laugh and poured more lube directly over his cock this time, letting it drip down the shaft and over his knuckles. He was thoroughly slicked now, shining with it, and when he gave himself another slow stroke the glide was effortless. His hips stuttered forward on instinct, fucking into his own fist, and a low groan slipped out.
He let go of himself and turned his attention to Jimin. He poured more lube over his fingers, then hesitated. Looked at the bottle. Looked at Jimin's hole—still slightly open from his fingers—then opened and upended the bottle right over Jimin.
The lube hit the small of Jimin's back first, making him jolt and hiss, but Jeongguk was already dragging his fingers through it, pushing it down over the curve of his ass, spreading it over his hole with his thumb. The lube pooled in the dip of Jimin's lower spine and overflowed, running down in slow rivulets over the swell of his ass, between his cheeks, dripping onto the sheets beneath them. It was excessive.
“Fuck, Gguk—” Jimin's voice pitched up, surprised, and his hips jerked forward before pressing back. “That's cold—”
“Warm up fast,” Jeongguk murmured. He circled Jimin's entrance with two fingers—just circling, not pushing in—and felt the muscle give under the slick, soft and yielding. The lube made everything effortless. His fingers slid past the rim with no resistance at all, and Jimin shuddered beneath him.
“You're dripping,” Jimin said. “I can feel it—on my thighs—it's—”
“Good.” Jeongguk said pulling his fingers free. “Want you wet enough that it's easy. Want it to feel good.”
Lube covered his hand, his wrist, and dripped between his fingers. He wiped them on the sheet and settled behind Jimin properly, hands on his hips above the swell of his ass. He lined himself up—the head of his cock pressing against Jimin's entrance. He had to hold himself steady with one hand, thumb and forefinger wrapped just below the head, to press in. “Tell me you're ready.”
“I've been ready,” Jimin said. “I must be close to death now with how long I've been—”
Jeongguk pushed the head of his cock in and Jimin's complaints turned into a low moan. Jeongguk sank in inch by inch, slow and steady, and the heat of Jimin's body after all that cold slick was almost unbearable. He was tight and hot and clenching around Jeongguk's cock like he was trying to suck him in deeper.
“Fuck—” Jeongguk said as he bottomed out, hips flush against Jimin's ass. Jeongguk nearly came at the sight of the lube squeezing out around the base of his cock where their bodies pressed together.
Jimin was trembling beneath him. “Move,” Jimin said. “Move, Gguk—”
Jeongguk started a slow rhythm, rolling his hips, pressing in deep and grinding before pulling back. The wet sounds were constant now, a slick, rhythmic accompaniment to the slap of skin on skin, and lube was dripping down Jimin's thighs and dripping onto the sheets beneath them in a growing wet spot that neither of them cared about.
“Harder,” Jimin said. His voice was bratty and demanding again, and he pushed his hips back to meet Jeongguk's next thrust. “I said harder—”
Jeongguk snapped his hips forward.
The force of it rocked Jimin up the bed and Jimin wailed as his back bowed deeply, ass pushing up to meet the thrust. Jeongguk did it again and again. The slow, controlled rhythm replaced by messy, desperate, hungry thrusts that made the bed frame creak and the headboard knock against the wall.
“Yeah, yeah—” Jimin was babbling now, words slurring together, face pressed to the pillow but his hips working back to meet every thrust. “Right there, Gguk, right—fuck—right there, you feel so—your cock is so—ah—”
Jeongguk was lost in it.
His hips were moving on their own—deep, grinding thrusts that shoved Jimin up the mattress with each one, the sound of skin on skin mixing with the wet, filthy noise of lube and sweat. Jimin was face down, cheek pressed into the pillow, and every thrust punched a sound out of him that echoed in Jeongguk's head. His back was arched so pretty, spine dipping low, and Jeongguk was mesmerised. His hands were gripping Jimin's hips hard enough to bruise, thumbs pressing into the dimples above his ass, and he was watching himself disappear into Jimin over and over and—
He couldn't see Jimin's face.
Once the thought hit him it wouldn't leave. He could hear Jimin—could hear every gasp and moan and bitten-off curse—but he couldn't see him. Couldn't watch his expression when a thrust hit deep. Couldn't see his brows pull together or his mouth fall open or his eyes go hazy. Jeongguk was fucking into him and missing the best part.
“Hyung—” He slowed, then stopped, pulling out with a wet sound that made them both groan. “Turn over. Want to see you.”
Jimin rolled onto his back with a grace that shouldn't have been possible. His legs fell open, thighs spread wide, and he looked up at Jeongguk with a smirk. He cupped Jeongguk's jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone.
“Missed my face that much huh?”
“Shut up,” Jeongguk said, almost shy.
“You're so needy.” Jimin's thumb traced Jeongguk's lower lip. “You were balls deep and stopped because you couldn't see me. That's—” His breath caught. “God, Gguk, that's doing something for me.”
Jeongguk grabbed the back of his thigh for leverage and pushed back in with one long stroke that made Jimin's words dissolve into a punched-out moan. His eyes rolled back, mouth fell open, and for three seconds he was completely silent.
There. Jeongguk could see everything now. The way Jimin's brows pinched on each thrust in and his lips parted on each drag out. When Jeongguk angled his hips and ground forward, Jimin's eyes went wide, mouth dropping open, a broken moan spilling out—and Jeongguk felt like he'd done a line. He was doing that to him.
“Yeah,” Jimin breathed. “Right there, baby. Right there, fuck—” His hand slid to the back of Jeongguk's neck, fingers curling into his hair. “You feel so good, Gguk. You're doing so well.”
Jeongguk set a slow rhythm watching Jimin's face the entire time. Every micro-expression, every flutter of his lashes, every breath hitch. He was transfixed.
Something hot and hungry was building in Jeongguk's chest, and the slow rhythm wasn't feeding it. He needed more. Needed to be closer, needed to crawl inside Jimin's skin—
He dropped his weight forward and pressed his face into the curve of Jimin's neck, and his hips snapped forward hard. Jimin gasped, legs tightening around Jeongguk's waist, ankles locking at the small of his back.
Jeongguk opened his mouth against Jimin's throat and bit down on the junction of neck and shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and then he sucked. Pulling blood to the surface, tasting salt and sweat, and Jimin keened.
“Fuck—” Jimin's hands flew to Jeongguk's hair, fingers gripping tight. Pulling him closer. “So—god—you're so good—”
Jeongguk bit a little higher, just below Jimin's ear, sucked another mark into the skin. Then lower, on the column of his throat, where his pulse hammered against Jeongguk's lips. He wanted to cover Jimin in marks, wanted him to look in the mirror tomorrow and see reminders of Jeongguk's mouth everywhere.
He bit down on Jimin's collarbone and Jimin sobbed.
“More,” Jimin gasped. “Want—ah, you to mark me up—”
Jeongguk's hips moved in hard and messy thrusts on their own now and his mouth was everywhere. Biting, sucking, licking over the marks to soothe them and then biting again. Jimin's neck was a mess. Red and purple blooming across the skin, teeth marks visible where Jeongguk hadn't been too careful.
Mine. The word surfaced from somewhere primal. Mine, mine, mine—
He bit down on Jimin's shoulder harder than before and Jimin cried out, throwing his head back to bare his throat.
“Too much?” Jeongguk pulled back just enough to scan his face.
Jimin's eyes were wet but he was smiling as he shook his head. “No—ah, more. Don't be gentle.”
Jeongguk dropped his face back and bit again where neck met shoulder, on soft skin that would bruise easy and hoped would stay bruised for days. He sucked until he felt the blood rise and Jimin was shaking beneath him.
“I'm close,” Jimin whispered. “Gguk, I'm so close, you're going to make me come—”
“Look at me.” Jeongguk braced himself on both arms, hovering over Jimin, their faces inches apart. “Look at me when you come, Hyung. Want to see it.”
Jimin's eyes snapped open. “You're so demanding,” he breathed. “Where's—god—where's the please?”
Jeongguk's rhythm faltered. “What?”
“You heard me.” Jimin clenched around him. “You want me to come on your cock? You want to watch my face when I lose it? Say please, puppy.”
Jeongguk swallowed. His cock was throbbing inside Jimin, buried to the hilt, and Jimin was pulsing around him. He tried to move, tried to pull back and thrust in, but Jimin's legs squeezed tighter around his waist and held him still.
“Uh-uh.” Jimin's voice was soft, but his grip was iron. “Not yet. You don't get to fuck me through it until you ask nicely.”
“Hyung—”
“Say it.” Jimin's thumb traced Jeongguk's lower lip, pressing down until Jeongguk's mouth opened slightly. “Come on, baby. You're so needy. So desperate to watch me come apart.” His thumb slipped past Jeongguk's lips, pressing against his tongue. “Say please and I'll let you make me come.”
“Please,” Jeongguk said. The word came out muffled around Jimin's thumb.
Jimin pulled his thumb free and dragged across Jeongguk's lower lip to wet it. “What was that?”
“Please, Hyung.” His voice cracked on it. “Please let me make you come. Want to see it. Want to feel you. Please.”
Jimin's legs loosened around Jeongguk's waist. “Good boy.”
Jeongguk didn't waste a second, hips picking back up in a rhythm that was faster and rougher than before, each thrust grinding deep before pulling back.
“Fuck—” Jimin's head fell back. “Right there—”
Jeongguk reached between them and wrapped his hand around Jimin's cock and started stroking in time with his thrusts. “Come on, Hyung,” Jeongguk said, low and rough. He thrust in deep and stroked up, thumb sweeping over the head. “Come for me.”
When Jimin could only whine and moan in response, Jeongguk tightened his grip and stroked faster. Jimin was shaking apart beneath him, thighs trembling where they gripped Jeongguk's hips, hole clenching tight around his cock with every stroke.
“Gguk—'m close, don't stop, don't stop—”
“Not stopping.” Jeongguk drove in deep and stayed, grinding against Jimin's prostate while his hand worked Jimin's cock. “Come for me, Hyung. Let me see you. Please.”
Jimin's eyes flew open and fixed on Jeongguk's face in desperation. “Puppy—Gguk—”
“Let go. I've got you.”
Jimin came with a sound that was almost a sob and his back arched off the mattress as cum spilled hot and thick across Jeongguk's knuckles and both of their stomachs. His hole clenched down so hard around Jeongguk's cock, Jeongguk knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
“Can I—” Jeongguk' panted, barely holding back. “Hyung, please—can I—”
“Fill me up.” Jimin's hand found his hair, pulled him down, mouth against his ear. “Come inside me, baby. Give me all of it.”
Jeongguk slammed forward twice and buried himself as deep as he could go. Came inside Jimin in thick, pulsing waves, groaning through gritted teeth, hips jerking on instinct as he fucked his cum deeper. He felt the cum leak out around his cock with the excess lube, squelching with every small movement, Jimin still clenching and unclenching through the aftershocks.
“That's it,” Jimin whispered, voice wrecked. “Fill me up, puppy. So good.”
Jeongguk's hips twitched st the praise, fucking the last of it into Jimin, who whimpered, clearly oversensitive, but didn't push him away. Just pulled him closer, legs locked around his waist, fingers in his hair.
When Jeongguk finally stopped, forehead dropped to Jimin's shoulder, breathing ragged, Jimin's hand slid up and down his back.
“Gonna pull out,” Jeongguk said once he felt like he could hold himself up again. “Okay?”
Jimin nodded, eyes half-lidded, one hand still loosely tangled in Jeongguk's hair. “Yeah. Go slow.”
Jeongguk eased back inch by inch, watching Jimin's face for any sign of discomfort. Jimin's breath caught when the head finally slipped free, and Jeongguk saw the cum leak from Jimin's hole, trailing down his perineum. His cum. Inside Jimin. He had to look away for a second, jaw clenched, because his spent cock actually twitched.
“Don't,” Jimin said with a snort. “Don't you dare get hard again.”
“I'm not—”
“You are.” Jimin giggled tiredly. “I can feel it against my thigh, you insatiable animal.”
Jeongguk pressed his forehead to Jimin's shoulder and groaned. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Jeongguk lifted his head and kissed him softly instead, nothing like the biting, claiming mess from before. Jimin hummed in satisfaction and slid his hand from Jeongguk's hair to the back of his neck, thumb tracing the sweat-damp skin there.
When Jeongguk pulled back, Jimin's eyes were closed.
“Stay there,” Jeongguk said quietly.
“Where would I go?” Jimin replied. “My legs don't work.”
Jeongguk pressed one more kiss to the corner of his mouth, then carefully untangled himself. The loss of body heat made Jimin shiver and Jeongguk took a second to just look when he sat back on his heels. Jimin, spread out on the sheets, cum smeared between his stomach and the bedding, more leaking from between his thighs. Neck and chest covered in Jeongguk's dark marks.
Jeongguk swung his legs off the bed and stood. He ignored the ache in his thighs and padded to the bathroom.
He washed the cum off of his own stomach, grabbed a washcloth from the rack and ran it under warm water, wringing it out twice until the temperature was right. He grabbed a clean towel too, and a glass from the counter which he filled with water from the tap.
When he came back, Jimin hadn't moved, but his eyes were open and watching the doorway.
“Oh,” Jimin said softly. “You're—”
“Here.” Jeongguk sat on the edge of the bed and held out the glass. “Drink.”
Jimin pushed himself up on one elbow, wincing slightly, and took the glass with both hands. He drank slowly, watching Jeongguk over the rim. When he'd finished half, he handed it back.
“Thanks, Jeongguk-ah.”
Jeongguk set the glass on the nightstand and folded one leg under himself, turning to face Jimin properly. “Gonna clean you up. Can you—”
“Yeah.” Jimin shifted, spreading his thighs, and Jeongguk's breath caught at the sight. Cum was still slowly leaking from him, the skin around his hole puffy and pink and used. He looked fucked. Jeongguk wanted to clean him out with his tongue. I'm the luckiest man alive.
Jeongguk wiped him clean slowly. Inner thighs, the crease of his hip, the smears of cum on his stomach. He worked his way down carefully, watching Jimin's face the entire time for any signs of discomfort.
The cloth came away streaked with cum and lube, and Jeongguk set the it aside and grabbed the towel, drying Jimin off with the same gentle movement. He looked over the bites on Jimin's neck again.
“You're going to have some pretty dark bruises,” Jeongguk said quietly. His fingers hovered over a particularly large mark on Jimin's collarbone.
“Good.” Jimin's eyes opened fully, and reached for Jeongguk. “Come here.”
Jeongguk let Jimin pull him down onto the mattress beside him and arrange them so they were facing each other on the pillow, noses almost touching. The sheets were a gross disaster—lube-stained, damp with sweat, cum smeared across the cotton—but neither of them moved to change them.
“You're shaking,” Jeongguk observed with a frown.
“Mm.” Jimin shifted closer, pressing his forehead to Jeongguk's. “Normal post-orgasm shakes. You made me come really hard, Gguk-ah.”
“Good,” Jeongguk replied, unable to keep the smug satisfaction he felt from threading into his voice.
Jimin laughed and Jeongguk reached down and pulled the crumpled blanket from the foot of the bed. He dragged it up over both of them, tucking it around Jimin's shoulders first, then his own. Jimin let out a breath and burrowed closer, hooking his ankle over Jeongguk's calf.
The bite marks on Jimin's neck were close enough to kiss, so he did; he pressed his lips softly to the darkest one and felt Jimin shiver.
“Again,” Jimin whispered.
Jeongguk kissed each mark he'd left gently as he listened to Jimin's breath deepen and slow.
“You're going to be the death of me,” Jimin mumbled. “You know that?”
Jeongguk didn't answer. He pressed one more kiss to the hinge of Jimin's jaw, then settled back against the pillow, pulling Jimin closer with an arm around his waist. Jimin went easily and tucked his face into the curve of Jeongguk's neck.
“Hyung.”
“Mm?”
“Can I have your number?” A pause, then, “Please.”
Jimin's laugh was a breath against Jeongguk's throat. “Sure thing, puppy.”