To Fuck the Phobia out of the Homo • Chapter 12 • 7.8K
Of all guys on the team, Jimin would have never guessed Jeongguk to be the one to show up with a lip ring. Not to mention double lip rings.
The team is giving him all kinds of compliments, saying it suits him, that he looks cool, that he should get more.
Jimin couldn’t agree more, but he bites his tongue, just observes from a distance until all the commotion stops, and Jeongguk casts a glance his way.
It’s a barely notable exchange. Jeongguk gives him the smallest tilt of his head, a curious glint in his eyes that translates to: you like it? And Jimin gives him the faintest nod in return.
————————
Okay, so he did not think this through.
Honestly, he got the lip rings on a whim when he walked by a piercer, thought they’d look cool. And they do, they look great, however..
“You know we can’t kiss right?”
He blinks, still high from his orgasm, didn’t even take that long, just a quick handjob in the shower after training— Jimin’s hands are heavenly.
He never even noticed how he leaned in for a kiss, only now that they’re inches apart, the small smirk on Jimin’s lips calling him out.
“Huh?”
“We can’t kiss.” Jimin flicks his gaze to his lips. “Those take time to heal.”
Oh.
He clears his throat, slips his hand out of Jimin’s hair.
“Yeah, no, I know.” He shrugs. “Don’t even want to kiss, so.”
It’s such a lame lie.
A glint appears in Jimin’s eyes, a small tug upward of the corner of his mouth and a dragged out “uhuh.”
That’s all he gets too, Jimin just steps away from him, washes up under the shower and leaves the communal bathroom
“Wait.” Jeongguk follows quickly. “You didn’t even finish.”
Wow, did that really just come out of his mouth?
“It’s fine, I’m already late.”
Jimin brushes him off so easily, just like last time. Jeongguk is stuck watching him get dressed, dolling up for Si-hun.
This is not going how he wants at all. After finally managing to get Jimin’s attention with his lip piercings, he thought he wouldn’t have to deal with this part.
Didn’t they agree to go to Jimin’s place this time?
Fuck, he doesn’t want to bring it up, that would just make him seem needy. So he sucks it up and just gets dressed as well.
But one quick glance at Jimin styling his hair is enough to open his mouth.
“Weren’t we supposed to go to yours?”
Jimin’s eyes meet his own through the reflection of his locker mirror, they blink at him a few times.
“You already came, why’d you wanna go to my place?”
Well..
Good point.
Heat rushes up to his cheeks.
“Not.. not right now, I just— I mean, we had a deal.”
“Well yeah, but you can’t use your mouth and you don’t want to bottom, so all that’s in it for me is a handjob.” Jimin shrugs, then focuses back on his face, puts that stupid cherry lip balm on. “I can get better at home.”
Now that—
That irks him.
“From the guy who can’t even kiss you right?”
This time, Jimin turns around, his blonde hair pushed back, still a little wet, the roots black, natural blush on his cheeks from the intense training, that after shower glow on his cheekbones, a glint in his eyes he doesn’t quite get.
“Well, at least he gets on his knees for me, you can’t even do that.”
Jeongguk bites his tongue, pokes it in his cheek. Fucking Si-hun is somehow always getting on his nerves. The guy can’t do shit except drive his huge hyundai and smile in a mildly unsettling way. Yet that guy gets Jimin all to himself.
“I bet the one time I sucked you off was better than any time he did it.” He huffs. “He probably just opens his mouth and takes it, waits for it to be over.”
Is he a little petty? Yeah, he is. Jimin putting him aside for Si-hun just doesn’t feel right. The guy always ruins everything.
“And that’s still more than you do.”
Jimin says with an irritating little smirk. He grabs his bag right after, swings it over his shoulder and looks at the time like this conversation isn’t important anymore.
Jeongguk is ready to push Jimin against that locker again, but mid-step he remembers he can’t kiss Jimin. These fucking lip rings are the worst.
And so he’s forced to watch Jimin leave the locker rooms with his lips all in tact, that cherry lip balm all for Si-hun to kiss.
As soon as the door closes he just throws his towel on the floor and groans.
“Fuck.”
———————
Lying to Jeongguk about still being with Si-hun might just be the best form of entertainment.
Even got Jeongguk to admit point where he’s bragging about his dicksucking skills, never thought that would happen. Maybe if he pushes him a little more, Jeongguk would be willing to show just how much better he is.
Though initially he’d have loved to take Jeongguk home and make him take his cock, it’s much more fun seeing him struggle to get what he wants.
He steps into his shared student house with a small smile plastered on his face, but as soon as his eyes land on Taehyung he stops in his tracks.
Taehyung just stands there, deadpan expression on his face, holding an all too familiar jersey, number 97 plastered on the fabric.
Oh fuck.
The door shuts behind him slowly, and all he can manage is a panicked chuckle.
“Oh— guess I must have taken the wrong one from the bench.”
He walks up to Taehyung, ready to take the jersey from his hand but Taehyung holds it out of arms reach, his intense eyes scan over his face.
“You took the wrong jersey from the bench and left it crumpled up in your bed?”
Shit.
He thought he’d folded it.
“Is this that homophobic guy from your team?”
God, why is Taehyung so perceptive, damn it.
He gives up the act with a sigh, takes the jersey from Taehyung’s hand.
“We fuck sometimes.”
There’s just that slow, know-it-all nod from Taehyung, but behind those eyes is also concern.
“You fuck often.”
“Just once or twice, nothing grand.”
How many times has he sucked Jeongguk’s dick? Too many to count.
His lie is probably so see-through, Taehyung only lowers his gaze to where he’s clutching the fabric of Jeongguk’s jersey tightly, as if anyone could take it from him.
Jimin doesn’t say a thing, and so Taehyung just lifts his gaze.
“I’ve seen him on Hoseok’s birthday party, that was months ago.”
Oof.
Yeah, he forgot about that.
“So, you’ve been seeing him for months.”
“Not like.. daily.”
“And you kept his jersey.”
“He left it.”
“You keep it in your bed.”
“Just cause he took it off there.”
“Jimin.”
He bites his tongue, looks down at the jersey.
Taehyung just sighs then.
“You told me to warn you if you ever fall for a straight guy again, so.”
“I know, but it’s not that.” He assures, though the jersey clutched in his fingers might make it a moot point. “We just fuck, that’s it.”
Images of Jeongguk on his back, begging him for more, pulling him in for a kiss, making out for hours after sex.. even the softest pecks on his lips in the morning— he pushes that all aside with a swallow.
That’s just aftercare.
He knows nothing about the guy.
Taehyung stares at him, long and hard, but then he just shrugs.
“Okay, well, I’m not gonna police you or anything, it’s your choice. Just be careful.”
“Yeah..” He nods. “I will.”
After that he makes a beeline to the washing machine and throws the jersey in there just to make a point to himself.
It’s just sex, nothing more.
——
It’s sort of ridiculous but he’s scared to see Namjoon again. He sadly can’t avoid every group meeting when his parents are the ones throwing the party.
Ever since Namjoon told him he’s bi, he just hasn’t really talked to him at all, no idea how to start a conversation.
But now they’re sitting around a large table, right next to each other, the other guys engaged in conversation about god knows what.
Neither of them are talking though. They just sip from their champagne, tap on the table with their fingers, check the time.
It’s Namjoon who breaks first.
“How’s things with the girl you talked about last time?”
Ah, yes, Jimin. The girl.
“Did you suck the strap?”
Yoongi butts in from his right.
Jeongguk almost chokes on his champagne, puts it down quickly and coughs.
“What?” Yoongi asks as if his question is completely normal, as if any of the other guys can’t overhear. “You said you were considering it last time.”
One quick glance over the table he notes that no one else is listening in, so he just clears his throat, shrugs.
“Yeah— I mean— I did.”
“Wow, props to you, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Yoongi clinks their glasses together, and all Jeongguk can do is nod a little awkwardly, the vivid image of Jimin’s dick in front of his face making it hard to muster a reply.
“Is she still with the other guy?” Namjoon asks. “The one you can’t stand.”
“Yeah.” Fucking Si-hun. He clicks his tongue. “We’re fuckbuddies but she’s only giving me handjobs and then bailing to see her boyfriend.”
“Ouch.”
“And ever since I got these lip rings she won’t kiss me either.” He touches his piercings, it still stings a little. “So yeah.. don’t know if it’s really worth it.”
It’s so worth it. Even if all he gets is a 5 minute handjob after practice, he’d rather have that than nothing. But god, he’s aching for more, Jimin wanted to take him home last time, but apparently Si-hun’s turned into some sort of sex god ever since.
He gets nothing, not even a fucking kiss.
“You hate kissing.”
..
Oh. Right.
He glances at Namjoon, tips of his ears burning up.
“Yeah— yeah but, not with her.”
“Uhu..” Namjoon gives him a slow nod. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”
“What? No—“
“Yeah Jeon, you sound like a major simp.” Yoongi adds. “Full offence.”
“That’s not true— she’s the one who wanted to be fuckbuddies.”
“Yeah but she has a boyfriend too, you’re just chasing after her.”
“I’m not chasing.”
It seems the more passionate he gets the more Yoongi grins, that gremlin just enjoys getting a rise out of him.
So he just huffs, sips from his champagne.
As soon as it falls quiet, Yoongi deems the conversation too boring, so he leaves the table to join Seokjin on the darts.
That tension returns slowly to his body, left alone with Namjoon.
He taps against the table, slowly looks at him.
Namjoon’s got his hair done, it’s shorter, black. It suits him, makes him look a little more mature. The eyebrow slit is intimidating too, and Jeongguk only now notices his pierced ear, a silver bud.
“You.. uh, when did you get earrings?”
“Mm? Oh, a year ago or something.” Namjoon touches his ear, plays with the piercing. “You want them too?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He touches his own earlobe. “My lip rings hurt like a bitch though.”
“Yeah I bet.” Namjoon grins, dimples showing. “But they suit you.”
Oh..
He feels a little tingle run through his body, smile pulling on his lips. After last time he thought Namjoon would be indifferent to him, but everything seems fine.
“Thanks.”
The conversation halts there though.
He’s not really sure what to say, and Namjoon also just goes for his champagne again.
Maybe it’s not fine.
He bites on the inside of his cheek, casts his gaze down on the wooden table.
“Uh.. you know, about last time..” He starts slowly, heat rushing to his face. “I’m sorry.. for like.. saying that.”
“You’re good man, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon says so easily, pats him on the back too. “I appreciate it.”
A huge weight falls off his shoulders. He never even noticed that it got to him that bad, but now that he’s apologised it’s like he can breathe normally again.
“Do the other guys know?” He asks then, a burning question he’s been meaning to ask. “About you?”
He dares to look at Namjoon, who nods.
“Yeah, all of them know.”
Oh..
Jeongguk scans over the room. Jinyoung and Myung-gi are by far the straightest of straights, half their conversations are about the uni girls they’ve been with.
“And they’re all.. cool with it?”
“Yeah.” Namjoon laughs softly. “You act as if it’s the 50’s.”
He blinks a few times, a little stunned.
“I mean, I can’t blame you, with your dad and all.” Namjoon shrugs then. “But yeah, that’s why you’re the last to know.”
His dad..
Jeongguk looks over his shoulder, his dad and the other guys’ parents engaged in some conversation outside.
A discomfort spreads through his body, just having this conversation in his proximity feels icky.
He thought all the other guys would be more like his dad, that their entire friend group had similar thoughts as him, that that was the standard.
Knowing he’s the one Namjoon couldn’t approach out of all the other guys sort of feels like a punch to the gut. They used to be closer, at one point in their lives. Not that they ever were really close, but he regarded Namjoon sort of as an older brother.
Honestly, he doesn’t really know why he’s giving it so much thought lately. Friendship, and who he’s close to, and stuff like that.
But when he looks around the table he kind of knows why. Jinyoung and Myung-gi are extremely tight, they do everything together. Haejoon and Seokjin are sort of a disaster whenever they’re together but they make it work, and Yoongi and Namjoon have become really close over the span of the last two years or so.
He’s never really had one close friend. Young-hee, he supposes, he was close to at some point, but they built this relationship where they’d fuck just for convenience, and since then it’s never really been the same.
His dad always told him it’s better to have a group of friends, but never let them close or they would betray you one way or another.
But now that he’s sitting there, watching everyone else have fun, knowing that Namjoon is accepted by everyone, while he can’t even really talk about his whole situation with Jimin..
it feels kind of.. lonely.
———————
It doesn’t help that his lip rings take so long to heal.
It helps even less that it’s spring break.
Ideally, this would be the perfect time to get out and do something fun with some people, but he’s stuck in his fraternity, not one person he can think of to message.
Well..
He’s been staring at his chat with Jimin, for days now. He’s opened and closed it, he’s almost sent something and deleted it again.
They’re not friends.
Not in the slightest.
So sending “how’s spring break?” feels wildly out of character.
Though he does wonder. If Jimin is spending his spring break with his roommates, or his family, or Si-hun. If he went on a beach trip, or if he’s just taking it easy, staying home.
It’s ridiculous.
If he’d be thinking about Jimin’s mouth on his cock, that would be less pathetic, but he’s actually looking at his ceiling imagining Jimin running around a beach with friends, feeling left out.
He groans, turns on his stomach and hopes the days will pass by soon.
—————
Spring break was much needed, a little trip with Hoseok and Taehyung, no worries just the sun and the sea, yeah, it was short and sweet.
Though he must admit, he’s been a little eager to get back. It has nothing to do with university, and everything with number 97 of his baseball team.
So the baseball team spring get-together comes around perfectly. The coach took them to some small dark brown bar to watch a game on the big screen.
Jimin would really rather do anything else, but the moment Jeongguk walks in, stylishly late, everything else fades to the back.
It’s not even been that long, but god, Jeongguk looks good.
He’s been growing out his hair for some time now, and it’s reached a point where it just falls prettily over his forehead, the back not long enough to call it a mullet but it’s getting there. He must have been out in the sun the past week too, his face looks sun-kissed, cheeks and nose a pink with the slightest bit of sunburn.
It makes his eyes look a shade warmer brown, his lips a prettier pink, and those lip rings catch the light just right, they must be healed by now. He can’t wait to feel them against his lips, against his—
He clears his throat, lets his eyes wander down. Jeongguk usually wears tighter shirts, but today it’s a black tank top under a leather jacket, on baggy jeans.
Yeah, leather looks good on him.
Jimin runs his eyes back up slowly, until he finds Jeongguk’s gaze on him.
It sends a shiver down his spine.
Jeongguk scans the spots right next to him, but there is no space, they’re in a booth and he’s at the head of the table in the back, closed in by their teammates.
Jeongguk pokes his tongue in his cheek, but eventually sits down at the far end.
There’s nothing Jimin can really do about it, though he would like to sit closer. They’ll just have to wait for an opportunity.
For a while, it’s just beers, and the team yelling at the big screen, drinking games, a whole lot of shots until Jimin is feeling just slightly lightheaded.
It’s only when it’s break time that everyone gets up, going for a smoke or a pee break.
He’s about to get up himself, but Jeongguk wastes absolutely no time, scoots in close on the bench until they’re right next to each other. Not even an inch between them, Jeongguk’s shoulder presses right against his own.
It’s a little childish, the tingling sensation in his chest, the tension that fills his body, the way the corner of his mouth curls up all on its own accord. Reminiscent of seeing your high school crush again right after summer.
He can rationalise it all he wants, but when he slowly turns his head to face Jeongguk, a thrill runs down his spine anyway.
He’s prettier up close.
Jawline sharp, eyes twinkling in the dimly lit bar, yeah.. he’s so fucking fine.
If he accidentally casts a glance or two at Jeongguk’s lips, it’s not a crime. Everyone else is out for a quick break, so, there’s no one here to catch that slip up.
When he looks up though, it seems Jeongguk is struggling with the same thing— eye contact proves difficult when lips are in line of vision.
The difference is, Jeongguk doesn’t even look up once.
A rush of heat spreads under his skin.
The promise of a good kiss makes his lips tingle in anticipation but it’s neither the time nor place.
————————
Fuck.
This wasn’t the plan.
He was supposed to say something smooth, but Jimin’s lips ruined his entire opening.
A month without kissing them, they look even plumper than usual; glistening in the dim lights, out there just to tease him, the curl of the corner of his mouth, that faded Cupid’s bow, the softest colour pink on the planet.
Si-hun’s had the privilege of kissing them the past month, he’s kept Jimin all to himself.
These stupid lip rings have finally healed and a second spent longer not closing the distance feels like a waste of time.
—————————
“How was your spring break?”
Jimin manages to ask. It’s a dumb, filler question to lessen the pressure of Jeongguk’s gaze on him.
“Yeah..”
Jeongguk talks to his lips, leans in closer.
Oh fuck, this is going wrong.
He panics, but he’s so ready for it that he doesn’t pull back either, and so the moment their lips touch a surprised moan slips out.
He’s wide-eyed, tries to cast a glance at the room, but Jeongguk’s eyes are closed in absolute bliss, not a care in the world.
And the second Jimin feels those lip rings drag over his lower lip his eyes roll back.
God— he’s missed this. The instant heat that rushes through his veins, the warmth of Jeongguk’s mouth, the soft slotting of their lips, it’s maddening.
“Mm.”
He slaps against Jeongguk’s chest once, tries to wake him up, they’re in the middle of a bar, all their teammates are somewhere around. And yet he can’t willingly break the kiss himself.
Jeongguk’s hand curls around his thigh, warm and firm and god, why here?
Why are they making out here?
“Fuck— Jeongguk— we’re in a fucking bar—“
“Mmh.”
Jeongguk nods, curls his other hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, reconnects their lips quite desperately.
Fuck it’s good.
He needs it to stop but it’s so fucking good. Jeongguk gets so handsy when he’s desperate, and the fact that they couldn’t kiss for about a month is not helping.
When Jeongguk slips his tongue into his mouth he just ascends, his hand flying to Jeongguk’s hair just to keep him close, soft groan falling from his lips.
It’s way too risky— the fucking dumbest place to make out ever. Except for the locker rooms maybe.
Each time their lips slot together those lip rings tease against his skin, tickle just right. That, along with the slow drag of Jeongguk’s tongue against his own are enough to sent blood rushing down an all too familiar direction.
Shit.
He breaks the kiss hastily, cheeks burning.
“Not here.” He hisses, nods around. “Everyone’s here.”
Jeongguk pants softly, doesn’t even glance over at anything, still laser-focused on his lips.
As if on cue, Yeo-jeong joins the table with a few beers in his hand, followed by the rest of the team who are laughing, moving in on the booth, ready for the game to start again.
He detangles himself from Jeongguk right in time, folds his hands properly on the table like he was oh so interested in the game on the big screen.
But for all his effort, Jeongguk doesn’t remove his hand from his thigh under the table. Doesn’t even put space between them, they’re still shoulder to shoulder, way closer than they usually let the team believe.
Only Yeo-jeong stares a little longer than usual, which he always does, but other than that, the team is luckily more focused on beer and baseball than the proximity between them.
————————
something is wrong with him, his brain is not functioning, all he hears is a static buzz. The table is too full, everyone needs to leave, he needs his alone time with Jimin, it’s been too god damn long without a proper kiss, a touch beyond a handjob.
He didn’t come here to give in like this; spent way too long choosing an outfit and doing his hair just to get some sort of reaction out of Jimin but never really considered that the opposite would happen.
Jimin looks completely too good to be sitting at this stupid dark brown bar. His blonde hair grown out a little, roots dark, a wet messy look that makes the colour appear a little more golden. It compliments his skin, he’s got that bronze tan on his pretty face from the sun, his monolid eyes a little more alluring than normal, his lips.. fuck, they look even prettier post-makeout.
And the grey long-sleeve shirt Jimin is wearing is supposed to be a little loose but it clings around his frame so prettily, accentuates his pecs too, the pendant of that silver necklace hanging low between them.
Yeah, he thought Jimin wouldn’t be able to resist him but here he is; unable to focus on the game playing on the big screen, pressed up against Jimin’s side for warmth, a thick thigh under his hand that he can’t for the life of him seem to let go.
When did he become like this?
He’s never had this with any girl, this insane burning sensation under his skin, the irresistible urge to get closer. Even though the entire team is around, he can’t subdue it, the subtle musky scent that is so distinguishably Jimin intrudes his nose with every breath, and images of them pressed up together, sweaty and breathless under the covers just sparks even more heat in his gut.
At some point his eyes are glued to the game only in the hopes of the inning to come faster, one more break, one more kiss. He’s manifesting.
The risk of it doesn’t register, usually he wouldn’t want to be seen sitting next to Jimin, much less interacting with him. But he can’t think straight, especially whenever he looks over just a little to the side, finds Jimin’s side profile.
His jawline is sharp, nose almost straight but for the slightest bump, and now that he’s paying close attention, Jimin’s eyelids are sunken, cheeks a little flushed, his lips are parted, chest heaving just a little more than normal.
It feels like ages when another break comes, dreadfully long before everyone leaves the table but the two of them. Some of them hang around near the table too, and all Jeongguk can do is stare at them, bite his tongue, and hope for them to step outside like the rest.
When no one is in sight he wastes no time, grabs Jimin’s chin and turns his face towards his.
“Jeon— mmh.”
Whatever protest Jimin was about to conjure up gets lost in between their lips. And Jimin is not fooling him at all, his protest is just for show, his lips open eagerly the second they slot together, he’s just as weak for it.
He can barely control himself, this kiss even more desperate than the last. Though he’d love to take his time, they don’t have it. So he slides his tongue inside, groans softly when he tastes that familiar sweetness, remnants of cherry lip balm.
But it’s not enough— something else is twisting and turning inside of him. No matter how deep he delves his tongue into Jimin’s mouth, no matter how pretty those moans sound, something is missing, they’re not close enough.
His hand slides up Jimin’s leg on its own accord, searches for the heat between those thick thighs and squeezes the inside— so soft, so fucking perfect.
“Nngh—“
Jimin’s moan tastes dirty on his tongue, and the way his legs spread further apart— fuck, that turns him on.
————————
oh fuck.
He knew Jeongguk could get desperate; like that one time he could barely stop him from kissing him in the locker rooms, but this
This is fucking insane.
Of all times they’ve kissed Jeongguk has not once put his hand on him like this.
There was that one drunk night on his front doorstep, where Jeongguk cupped him through his pants, but this exceeds that. This is so much worse.
He’s not sure Jeongguk is even conscious, there is just no way in hell he’s moving his hand up his thigh, squeezing it, inching closer to his crotch.
An alarm is ringing in his head, he knows he should make sure no one is watching but he can barely get a second to breathe, each time he breaks the kiss to check Jeongguk just crashes their lips together the very next second.
And.. fuck, it feels good.
Jeongguk barely ever openly shows his desire, but now it’s overflowing.
Lip rings brush over his lower lip, that hot tongue slides along his own, and all he can do is take it until he’s breathless, arousal rushing through his veins.
The moment Jeongguk slides his hand up more, rubs his palm over his crotch, he just about ascends.
Jeon Jeongguk is touching him under the table. The guy who couldn’t even dress in the same locker room as him a couple of months ago, he’s teasing him through his pants under the table.
“Ah— fuck.”
He pants, casts a dazed glance around just to check, then looks down at Jeongguk’s hand on his crotch, aimlessly rubbing against him, teasing his cock over the fabric.
This is not happening. He’s gotta be dreaming all of this.
————————
Fuck yes.
This is it.
This is exactly what he’s craving. Heat under his fingers, something soft gradually getting harder the longer he teases it.
He’s so lost in it he only notices Jimin’s broken the kiss when a loud, drawn-out moan fills his ears.
He blinks his eyes open, peers through his lashes at Jimin’s flushed face, his lust-glazed eyes almost completely closed, lips parted.
Why did he break the kiss?
Jeongguk nudges his nose, closes the distance once more, but only a few seconds in, Jimin is barely moving his lips, all that comes out just moans and pants.
He tries again, kisses those plump lips even harder, licks into his mouth, but it’s like Jimin is dazed, barely responding.
“What?” He breathes out, looks around quickly. “They’re not back yet.”
“Sorry..”Jimin pants, bites his plush lower lip, then finally makes eye contact. “I’m so hard..”
Hard?
Jeongguk blinks a few times, and then suddenly, the heat under his palm— it registers.
He gasps, looks down at where he’s— oh fuck— he’s touching Jimin.
Jimin’s legs are spread, print of his dick visible against his jeans, and his palm is rubbing against it.
“Oh fuck.”
He yanks his hand back as if burned, shame rushes to his cheeks instantly.
When he casts his gaze back up at Jimin, there’s only lust in his eyes, that hazy need-to-come-so-bad look that he’s only seen a couple of times before.
Oh god, what the fuck did he do?
“I— I gotta—“
He points over his shoulder, can’t come up with an excuse but he needs to get away from there.
Jimin calls after him but he just rushes towards the bathroom, heart in his throat, unable to breathe properly.
It’s a small space with only a few stalls, dimly lit, an orange hue everywhere against the dark interior. Luckily no one else is there, no one sees him tangle his hands in his hair and curse under his breath.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
He catches his reflection in the mirror, his flushed face, his swollen lips, but worst of all— his pants are all tight around his crotch, arousal so obvious it’s embarrassing.
“Fuck.”
Jimin barges in not even a second later, face just as flushed, eyes zeroing on him.
Oh no.
“Jimin—“
It takes about two seconds, Jimin scans the room, takes his wrist and drags him into an empty toilet stall. The door locks with a click, and soft lips crash back against his own— give him no option to think, no moment to breathe.
His heart is going a hundred miles an hour, feels like he ran a marathon with how out of breath he is but somehow his arms wrap around Jimin like it’s second nature, his head naturally tilts the other way and he kisses back as if it’s the last time.
That’s how deep that need runs, he just can’t fucking stop.
Jimin licks over his lip rings like they’re his personal playthings, and then he whispers against his mouth— voice all raspy:
“finish what you started.”
Oh.
He gasps, heat flares up his face, and when he tips his head down he finds the evidence of what he just did— the outline of Jimin’s hard cock pressing against his jeans.
Jimin dips his head into the crook of his neck, aligns his lips with his ear.
“You were rubbing on me just now, getting me hard, so finish it.”
The words slap him in the face even harder. It’s so humiliating— he can’t fathom what the fuck he just did, and yet his dick twitches merely at the command.
A soft moan slips from his mouth as he stares at the front of Jimin’s jeans, but he can’t move a muscle.
Jimin does it for him, takes his wrist and brings his hand right back to his bulge, presses firmly against it.
God fuck it’s— it’s so—
“This is what you were doing.” Jimin breathes out, guides his hand through the motion, rubs it right over his cock. “Making me hard.”
His jaw drops a little, and all he can do is just stare at it— how wrong it looks— how right it feels.
“Missed my dick that much?” Jimin’s rasps. “Can’t keep your hands to yourself even when we’re with the entire team.”
“Mmh—“
God fuck.
His ears ring with a static noise, the toilet stall is so small that sweat breaks out on his skin, but he wants to be even closer. That heat under his palm is not enough, the fabric between them is in the way.
But fuck— he can’t say that, searches for Jimin’s mouth just to make sure he can’t run his own. As long as they’re kissing he can’t incriminate himself even further.
And for a good few seconds it works, he gets lost in those plush lips, that hot tongue sliding against his own, Jimin’s hand tangling in his hair.
It’s just— Jimin rubs against his hand, lets him know how fucking hard he is under all that, and soon the image of Jimin’s cock is on his retina; flushed and pretty, right in front of his face.
He breaks the kiss with a soft gasp, casts his gaze down at where Jimin’s cock is straining against the fabric of his jeans, searching for the friction of his palm.
————————
Jimin’s not sure what’s going to happen but Jeongguk seems on edge; his entire face is flushed, he can barely talk, nothing but pants and moans falling from his parted lips, and he keeps looking down at where he’s rubbing against his cock, then up into his eyes like he wants something more.
But he never once asks.
Which is fine, Jimin doesn’t mind pushing his luck today. He just brings his hands down to his waistband, right to the button of his jeans, and waits.
Jeongguk’s eyelids sink, and he just nods a few times like he can’t fight it anymore, takes his hand off.
Fuck— it’s hot, he hasn’t seen Jeongguk in this state except when he’s got him underneath him, thoroughly fucked and out of his mind.
He opens his button, then undoes his zipper, pushes his jeans down until they sink down to his ankles.
Jeongguk breathes in shakily, stares at his boxers so long, as if he’s trying to take them off mentally.
Jimin does it for him, hooks his thumbs into his waistband and drags them down, his hard cock catches in the fabric, gets pulled down with it until it slips past the waistband, then it slaps back against his stomach.
Jeongguk breathes out a moan, licks his lips at the sight, has a hard time tearing his eyes off, but he looks up eventually, finds his gaze.
Nothing is hotter than seeing Jeongguk at his breaking point. Everything he exudes is lust and longing, Jimin should really take a picture just for keepsakes.
The two of them in a dimly lit toilet stall in a small dark brown bar, he would have never guessed. The team must probably be wondering where they’re at.
He would care more for keeping up appearances if Jeongguk wasn’t looking at him like this.
————————
Fuck.
His mouth keeps watering. Every time he glances down, a certain heat rushes through his veins, a type of arousal he’s just never felt before— white, hot, and pressing.
He keeps waiting for something to happen. Something needs to happen, it needs to escalate and he can’t be the one to initiate.
But Jimin doesn’t tell him— doesn’t order him around like he usually does, he just stands in front of him, pants and boxers around his ankles, pretty cock hard and flushed at the tip.
His legs are trembling a little, on the verge of giving in, but Jimin hasn’t told him to do anything so he just can’t.
It’s so fucked up.
He curls his hand around the back of Jimin’s neck and closes the distance instead— just so he can do something with the burning arousal, just so he can use his mouth for something.
Jimin’s hand tangles in his hair then, and he waits for him to pull, to force him down on his knees but it doesn’t happen. Not even when he licks into Jimin’s mouth harder, when he moans with a little more urgency.
It’s so fucking embarrassing.
He breaks the kiss with a soft groan, brings his mouth to Jimin’s ear instead.
“Ask me.”
————————
He blinks a few times, but Jeongguk tugs on his shirt like it’s urgent, bites in his earlobe.
“Fucking ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“Ask me to suck your dick.”
.. Oh
Heat licks down his spine, and his dick twitches.
There’s no way Jeongguk just said that.
He tugs on Jeongguk’s hair hard, just to look at his face. It’s all flushed, his nose and cheeks red, eyelids hanging so much he can probably barely see a thing, lips all swollen from their makeout session, lip rings catching the light.
He does a double take, a triple take, until the words finally register.
Jeongguk wants to suck his dick.
He’s trying to make him say it just so he’s not the perpetrator— so he’s not guilty of wanting to do it.
Normally he’d drag this out— he’d make Jeongguk say it first, that he wants it, but seeing as they’re short on time and Jeongguk has only sucked his dick once before swearing he’d never do it again— he can’t risk it.
So he just leans in close.
“Get on your knees..” He whispers, brushes his lips against Jeongguk’s piercings. “.. and suck my dick.”
Jeongguk’s eyes roll back, a drawn-out moan slips past his lips, and then he just sinks down without any objection, looks like a starved puppy the way he puts his mouth on him the second his knees hit the floor.
Jimin hisses, tangles his fingers in Jeongguk’s jet black hair and tips his head back against the wall.
Maybe he should refrain from kissing Jeongguk more often, if it leads to this. He should encourage him to get more lip piercings, maybe even a tongue piercing—
“Oh fuck.” He gasps, as Jeongguk sinks his mouth down his cock, takes him all the way, those lip rings tickling against his shaft. “Oh fuck yes—“
It’s a crime not to watch, he tilts his head down just to take it in, Jeongguk’s pretty mouth on him, his eyes closed in bliss, black hair messy.
He swallows, guides Jeongguk through the motion by his hair, up and down his length, but soon enough Jeongguk stubbornly bats his hand away, wraps his own hand around the base of his cock and takes over.
“A-ah— fuck, Jeongguk.” He sucks in a sharp breath, vision a little blurry. “Easy.”
Jeongguk doesn’t go easy on him at all, he moves his hand at the same time he bobs his head around him, doesn’t do a stellar job at pacing himself but it doesn’t matter.
Cause all he can do is stare, wide-eyed, jaw dropped; Jeongguk is really doing this.
There’s that expression again, Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, he kind of looks pissed, but in contrast, he moans around his cock like he fucking loves doing this, loves sucking dick.
Jimin groans, can’t keep his hips still, thrusts shallowly into Jeongguk’s mouth, remembers the guy doesn’t even have a gag reflex.
“Such a pretty mouth..” He moans, caresses a hand through Jeongguk’s hair. “Better than Si-hun.”
There’s a soft grunt— like Jeongguk hates hearing that name, but it does make him suck around the head of his cock even better, the flat of his tongue rubbing against the underside.
“Ahh— fuck.”
He tilts his head back again, eyelids fluttering shut as Jeongguk works his mouth on him like he deserves.
That wet heat sinks down his cock over and over, that slick sound fills the stall, echoes against the walls until he gets dizzy with it.
Sweat prickles on his skin, and when he manages to tilt his head back down, he finds Jeongguk’s right hand slipped into his own pants, button and zipper open, getting off on his knees.
Oh fuck.
That’s the hottest sight he’s seen in a while. Just the fact Jeongguk is that far gone, so turned on that he’s masturbating while sucking dick.
“Enjoying yourself?”
He pants, manages to sound just irritating enough for Jeongguk to shut his eyes even tighter, as if he wants to escape.
He chuckles breathily, moans in between cause he’s holding on by a fucking thread, arousal swirling in his gut, needing release.
———————
Jimin is close— he can taste it on his tongue, precum dribbling from the slit. And instead of it grossing him out, he swallows around it, needs it permanently engraved on his taste buds.
He’s just as close, working his hand messy and fast around his cock, can barely acknowledge that he’s so turned on that he needs to touch himself.
There’s no point giving it any thought. He’s clearly not in his right mind— that’s the only reason he’s on his knees, the only reason he’s sucking Jimin’s dick.
It’s got nothing to do with how fucking hot it feels, a cock rubbing on his tongue, heavy and hard. It’s got nothing to do with the pants and moans slipping from Jimin’s pretty lips. It’s got nothing to do with the praise— nor the humiliation.
“That’s it baby..” Jimin pants, thrusts into his mouth harder. “Wanna swallow?”
Heat rushes to his cheeks, both at the question and the nickname, and despite wanting to hate it, arousal licks down his spine, and he picks up the pace of his hand, hips bucking up a little pathetically.
“Can come on your face too— ngh— if you want.”
“Nngh.”
He groans, can’t think straight with his mouth being used like this— Jimin is straight up fucking it at this point, he can’t control the pace or anything, it’s just mouthful after mouthful of cock.
“God fuck— I’m gonna—“
He’s not sure why his eyes roll back when Jimin comes, but it’s like he shares that feeling of release when Jimin’s cock twitches in his mouth, and string after string of cum lands on his tongue.
“Fuck— ahhh fuck— Jeongguk—“
“Mmh.”
He blinks his eyes open the slightest bit, just to see Jimin looking right at him, face flushed and sweaty, lips parted so prettily, blonde hair sticking to his forehead and temples.
It’s almost embarrassing that his own orgasm rips through his body right that moment, sheer eye contact sending him over the edge. A moan rumbles through his chest, his back arches, vision turns white as pleasure fills his entire system, hips bucking up hard into his hand.
“Nnngh—“
He’s not sure when his cock slipped out of his underwear but he’s coming everywhere, it spurts over Jimin’s jeans, onto the floor, dribbles down his fist all in a chaotic manner.
If Jimin minds at all he doesn’t show it, he just cups his cheek like he’s guiding him through his orgasm, slips out of his mouth and caresses his thumb over his lower lip.
“That’s it pretty boy, make it all dirty.”
“Fuck—“
He groans, milks himself longer just for Jimin, until every last drop is spilled.
And then his mind goes peacefully blank, a static buzz all he hears, nothing but pleasant warmth in his system.
Jimin guides him to stand up on his wobbly legs then, scans over his face with those pretty, monolid eyes.
“You good?”
———————
Jeongguk seems a little out of it, almost like he’s coming down from a type of subspace. But then after a few blinks, his round, dark brown eyes travel to his lips, like he always does after his orgasm.
His heart skips a beat.
Huh..
That’s not good.
He pretends his chest doesn’t tighten when Jeongguk’s arm tangle loosely around his neck, pretends his cheeks don’t burn up when their lips reconnect.
Pretends this isn’t his favourite part of their hookups.
When both their lips are already used, warm and soft, when there’s less urgency behind it, where they melt into each other like they have all the time in the world.
God— Jeongguk is so good at kissing. His tongue slides against his own so well, and his lip rings drag over his lower lip so gently it tickles a little.
He takes the liberty to touch Jeongguk’s chest under his hand, curls the other around the back of his neck to keep him close.
Yeah..
He could stay here for hours.
Jeongguk leans against him even more, has no idea that he’s heavy, he’s basically all muscle, a huge overgrown puppy.
He’s got no idea how much time passes before Jeongguk breaks the kiss, disoriented when he blinks his eyes open.
But wow.. Jeongguk looks so pretty, skin glowing, eyes twinkling.
His heartbeat steadily picks up.
Which is not good.
They are just fuckbuddies. Nothing else. Jeongguk is still under the presumption he’s straight, and he’s sworn to himself he can’t fall for a straight guy. Not again.
“Can I s—“
“We should get back.” He untangles himself from Jeongguk, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Before someone notices us missing.”
Jeongguk blinks once, twice, the bliss on his face slowly fades, but he clears his throat, nods and untangles himself as well. “Uh, yeah— yeah, let’s get back.”
“Sorry, what did you wanna say?”
“Nothing.” Jeongguk waves his hand dismissively, then zips himself back up. “I’ll go first.”
——————
He gets out of the stall quickly, makes a beeline to the sink and cleans his mouth.
When he looks up at his own reflection he gasps— his hair is a mess, his lips are all puffy, his eyes glazed over, and his skin is glowing.
God..
What the fuck did he just do?
More importantly..
Why did he almost ask Jimin if he can sleep over?