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“He did what?!” Jimin slams his palms on the table and jumps up, forcing his chair back with a loud screech.
Seokjin’s hand darts out to steady his champagne glass, filled with freshly pressed orange juice, that’s swaying dangerously from side to side, before looking around.
“Can you tone down the dramaticness?”
“I don’t think that’s a word,” Tae interferes from the side, pushing a grape between his lips, seemingly unfaced by Jimin’s outburst. He probably knew it was coming, even before he dropped the bomb about what he heard from a friend of a friend of a friend: Yujun, Jimin’s ex, cheated on him when they were still together.
“It is when it comes to him,” Seokjin grumbles, before looking at Jimin with a stern expression. “Stop making a scene, I like eating here.”
Jimin looks around the cozy café they’re currently having brunch at. It has gotten uncomfortably quiet, people peeking into their direction, throwing them covert glances. He huffs and mumbles an apology, before sitting back down. Then he grabs his croissant, violently ripping a big piece off and stuffing it into his mouth to keep himself from running it.
He can’t believe it.
That motherfucker cheated on him. On him.
He was cheated on.
“Why are you so upset anyway? Weren’t you the one who ended the relationship?”
Jimin swallows and washes the crumbs down with a big gulp of coffee.
“That doesn’t mean that fucker can cheat on me.”
“I’m not surprised to be honest,” Tae says, sipping his tea. “He was an asshole through and through. I told you several times that I received bad energy from him.”
“I know he was an asshole,” Jimin mumbles. “He was a good fuck, though.”
There are heads whipping around once more and Seokjin kicks his shin under the table. Jimin groans.
“Why are we here again?” He asks with a pout. “This is so…” He takes in the rustic tables, the embroidered and ruffled table clothes, the flower arrangements... “…not our scene.”
“Well— I thought we could try something new,” Seokjin mumbles, waving his hand around but his ears are turning suspiciously pink.
“He has a crush on the owner,” Tae says matter-of-factly.
“Oh?” Jimin grins, while Seokjin splutters with red cheeks.
“That’s not true! Enough of this, we were talking about Jimin’s cheating ex.”
Instantly the boiling anger in Jimin’s veins is back. How dare that asshole make a fool out of him!
It’s not that he’s sad. Not at all. In hindsight, he stayed with Yujun for as long as he did just because the guy had a big dick and kind of knew how to use it, not because he was Jimin’s dream boy or whatever. But he always thought he was Yujun’s dream boy. Knowing that he cheated on him annoys him in a way that’s nagging at his pride. How dare he cheat on Jimin when Jimin was without a doubt the best he’s ever had!
“Fucking asshole,” Jimin mumbles, stirring his coffee. “Who does he think he is?”
“You were way too hot for him,” Tae says, offering Jimin a bowl of fruit.
“I know, right!?” Jimin slumps back in his chair, declining the fruit bowl with a shake of head and crossing his arms. “I wish I could give him a piece of mind.”
Seokjin’s eyes grow big. “Don’t even think about it.”
“About what?”
“About getting back at him or something. It’s only gonna cause trouble.”
“Jiminie likes causing trouble.”
“I know! That’s why I’m saying-”
“Chill,” Jimin interrupts them. “I don’t remember his number and he’s not on any social media…” He huffs. “Unfortunately.”
“Thank God, because-”
“You could go to his place. It’s not far from yours.” Tae scoots to the side to avoid Seokjin’s foot trying to kick him, while Jimin makes a contemplating sound.
“Jimin,” Seokjin’s tone is almost pleading now. “I really don’t want to bail you out of jail again.”
“That was literally one single time and it wasn’t even that bad.”
“You got caught scratching the word PERV into a guy’s car, after trespassing on his property. You followed him all the way home for like half an hour!”
“Yeah and the only bad thing about it was that I got caught. He had it coming. He was literally out there grabbing multiple women’s butts without their consent and then insulting them for telling him off, like-”
“You could’ve just reported him.”
Jimin snorts. “As if authorities care about stuff like that.”
Seokjin sighs and massages the bridge of his nose and he looks so stressed that Jimin actually feels a little bad.
“Yujun is an asshole for cheating on you and you were way too good for him. But you broke up almost a year ago and it’s literally not worth the trouble. Please,” he looks at him intently. “Please promise me that you won’t go to his place.”
“Fine. I promise I won’t go to his place.”
Jimin is going to his place.
Fuck what he promised yesterday. Fuck that it’s probably a bit eccentric. Fuck that it might get him into trouble one way or another. He’s not about to let that fucker get away with that shit, no matter how long ago it was.
He feels powerful walking up to the apartment complex, knows he’s looking amazing. He would never admit it out loud of course, but he made an effort to look his absolute hottest. Let the bastard know what he’s missing.
He’s wearing his tightest black leather pants, that make his ass pop, paired with the shortest crop top his owns, flashing some skin when he’s moving just right, his blond hair styled in a way that shows off his undercut and dangly earrings.
He relishes in the click-clack of his own Chelsea boots, as he walks down the familiar corridor, towards door number 27, where he knows the asshole lives.
He fixes his hair and takes a deep breath.
Then he rings the doorbell and waits.
And waits and waits.
And nothing happens.
He rings the bell again, twice this time, for good measure.
There’s rustling behind the door, making Jimin square his shoulders, getting ready for the confrontation.
Only that the confrontation doesn’t happen, because the door doesn’t open.
Jimin huffs and eyes the peephole with a frown. Maybe he shouldn’t have been standing right in front of it, with an expression like he’s ready to kill. One look at Jimin’s angry face and Yujun probably knows that Jimin knows that he cheated on him.
He rings the bell again.
“I know you’re in there, I heard you!” He says while knocking on the door. “Open up, I wanna talk!”
When it stays silent again, Jimin curses loudly, starting to get really irritated.
“Yujun!” He hollers, and rings the bell again and again, before slamming his fist against the hard wood. “I can do this all day!”
When still nothing happens, he clicks his tongue. “Fine,” he singsongs. “Have it your way.”
Then, for the next ten minutes, he rings the bell and bangs against the door relentlessly, doesn’t let up for even a second, shouting at Yujun through the door to let him in, because he’s a cheating asshole and deserves Jimin’s wrath.
He almost has a heart attack, when the door is yanked open violently.
A high-pitched squeak of surprise leaves his throat and he stumbles backwards, quite literally landing on his butt with an ungraceful oof-sound.
A second later, there’s a stranger towering over him.
“What the fuck do you want?!” The guy hollers.
Jimin blinks.
“Huh? You’re not Yujun.”
And then it hits him. He hasn’t even thought about the possibility of Yujun having a new partner. Maybe this was one of the guys Jimin was cheated on with! But he supposes that’s even better, because now this guy will learn what a cheating piece of shit his boyfriend is. And if he already knew Yujun was in a relationship back then, Jimin will give him a piece of mind too.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but closes it again when he gets another good look at the dude.
You’re not his type, he thinks. Yujun usually likes his guys cute and small – like Jimin, just maybe with less of a mouth – and the guy in front of him is definitely not small. He’s big. Like big big. Big as in tall but also big as in muscular. His tight white t-shirt is clinging to his buff frame, his big naked arms covered in tattoos. Which is hot. He is fucking hot. He must be about Jimin’s age and his black hair is a bit disheveled as if he’s just been sleeping, his ears, eyebrow and bottom lip are pierced and he towers over Jimin like he could squish him with one single finger.
Fuck. He’s definitely more Jimin’s type. And that sours Jimin’s mood even more. Of course the guy is not hotter than him, but still undeniably worth drooling over.
“Who the fuck is Yujun?!” The guy’s voice is booming, laced with the unmistakable tone of annoyance.
“Why the hell are your shouting at me?” Jimin asks, irritated, as he gets back up on his feet, dusting his pants off.
The other looks at him as if Jimin’s grown a second head.
“Why?! Maybe because you have been shouting in front of my apartment for the past 10 minutes like a maniac!”
They both flinch when a door down the corridor is yanked open and a young woman steps out, a furious look on her face that has Jimin literally recoil, the faint sound of a baby screaming and crying reaching his ears.
“Could you two cut it out for the love of God?” She asks, gesturing around wildly. “I just got her to finally fall asleep and now you’ve woken her up again, do you have no shame?!”
“I’m sorry,” Jimin mumbles and bows to her, the other guy doing the same.
“Take it inside or something!”
“Yes, of course, sorry—"
Jimin ushers the guy inside Yujun's apartment, closing the door behind them. They stand still, in complete silence, looking at each other with big eyes, until they hear her closing her door as well.
They both exhale in relief.
That’s when the guy frowns and blinks in confusion.
“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment?” He points behind Jimin. “Get out!”
“Not until I’ve talked to Yujun, that cheating fucking asshole!”
“I don’t fucking know who that is!”
Jimin blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’. You got the wrong apartment, you dumbfuck.”
“Excuse me?!” Jimin gasps. “I most definitely got the right apartment! I know this place like the inside of my fucking pocket. This...” He points the door to his left. “…is the bathroom and this…” He points to the door to his right. “…is the bedroom. I know for a fact that there are huge scratches on the floor.”
The guy raises his eyebrows in surprise and Jimin grins triumphantly.
“Not gonna tell you how exactly they got there, but that was me, and there were heels involved.”
He relishes in the way he can practically see the guy’s mind stumble to a halt as his mouths opens slightly, without a sound coming out, his eyes wandering down the length of Jimin’s body, as if he can’t help but imagining him in heels now.
“And down this hallway,” Jimin points behind the guy. “Is the combined kitchen and living room and-“ He pauses when something catches his eye.
Behind the dude, clearly visible through the open door, right in front of the big window on the far end of the apartment, in a very large familiar pot, grows a very large familiar plant.
“And that is mine.”
“What?”
Jimin points at the plant. “That Monstera plant over there. It’s mine.”
The guy frowns, then looks over his shoulder, before looking back at Jimin. He crosses his arms, the movements making his muscles bulge and Jimin’s mouth goes kind of dry.
“The former owner left it here and I adopted it, hence it’s mine.”
Jimin grinds his teeth. Yujun abandoned the Monstera?!
“That fucker… Well, I gave it to the former owner as a birthday present. He never took care of it though. I did. So it’s mine.”
“You left it behind. It was almost dead when I got here. I saved it. It’s mine.”
“It’s mine and I’m taking it with me.”
Jimin squeezes himself past the bulky body in front of him, making his way towards the living room.
“Hello?! You can’t just go in there!”
There’s a hand on his upper arm but he swats it away, only distantly noticing how much better the living room looks than before. Much cleaner, with modern furniture and simple but cozy decoration, kind of artsy even.
When he reaches the plant, he squats down without thinking, attempting to lift the pot up. Only it’s heavier than he thought and when one of the big leaves swats his face, he stumbles to the side, crashing into a big hard body, two strong arms steading him, before the pot is taken away in one fluid motion and placed back on the floor.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The guy huffs.
Jimin crosses his arms, leaning against the backside of the couch that’s placed in the center of the room, serving as a room divider between living and dining area.
“Taking what’s mine.”
The other throws his hands in the air. “It’s not yours! I just told you, I…,” he takes a deep breath. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you. Get out if my home. Now.”
“Not without my Monstera.”
The guy’s lips quirk up into a smile, which is slowly forming into a smirk. The expression changes his whole demeanor. Suddenly there’s something almost… dangerous about him and about the way he’s standing there, towering over Jimin, giving him a once over, his gaze obviously pausing at the tiny bit of exposed skin between the waistband of Jimin’s leather pants and his crop top. The look makes Jimin’s skin prickle and he swallows hard, briefly thinking how much shit Seokjin would give him if he knew Jimin’s totally busted into a complete stranger’s home, someone he knows nothing about. Someone who could technically be a mass murderer. A very hot one though.
“And how are you planning to get it downstairs with your tiny little arms?” The other asks and Jimin throws him an offended look.
“Are you saying I’m weak?”
“Yep. That’s exactly what I’m saying. You couldn’t even lift it up without falling over. So?”
Jimin chews on his lower lip and frowns because of course the dude has a point. He won’t be able to get it downstairs, let alone to his apartment, which is at least a twenty-minute walk away. Getting that huge thing on the bus or the subway would also be difficult. It wouldn’t even fit in a taxi.
He looks at the other, taking in the muscles of his upper arms and chest, clearly visible beneath the tight-fitting white shirt.
This guy definitely wouldn’t have any issues carrying that huge plant, probably wouldn’t even bat an eye if he had to carry the plant and Jimin across the whole city. Jimin feels a little hot at the thought. God, he’s so big.
A triumphant grin forms on the other’s face when Jimin stays silent.
“Thought so,” he says and with a finality adds: “And now leave.”
But Jimin isn’t one to let others tell him what to do and he especially hates it when people tell him that he can’t have something. So he lifts his chin, looking the guy dead in the eye.
“No.”
The other sighs and pulls his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants.
“Alright, I’m gonna call the police.”
Jimin snorts. “Go for it.”
He tries to sound nonchalant but on a second thought he is actually worried, especially when thinking back at what Seokjin told him yesterday. That he doesn’t want to bail him out of jail again. Ugh… He’d be so disappointed that Jimin didn’t listen.
“Hello, Jeon Jungkook speaking, I would like to repor-“
“Okay, wait!” Jimin rushes forward and snatches the guy’s phone right out of his hand, shouting a “Sorry, wrong number!” into the receiver, before hanging up. The other reaches for the phone with a curse, but Jimin puts his hand behind his back, pressing himself against the couch again, trapping his hand with the phone between his butt and the piece of furniture.
“Listen, Jeon Jungkook…,” he starts and he can see how annoyed the other is about the fact that Jimin knows his name now.
“I’m Park Jimin,” Jimin raises his free hand to wave a little. “Hi.”
“Didn’t ask.”
“Well, but now you know,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes. “Listen. My asshole of an ex used to live here. I found out that he cheated on me back then. And because I’m possibly a little bit eccentric…”
“A little bit??”
“…I wanted to give him a piece of mind. I didn’t know he’s moved. So… sorry about all this, I guess. But,” he looks at the plant. “Now that I’ve seen my lovely Monstera, I really wanna have it back. Preferably without the police being involved. I can’t be arrested again.”
“Again?” Jeon Jungkook’s eyes turn wide. “Are you a criminal?”
Jimin snorts. “What? No! I got arrested once because I damaged someone’s car who definitely deserved it but aside from that-“
“Give me my phone back.”
“Only if you promise that you won’t call the police.”
Jungkook looks around. “I really should’ve gotten that landline installed,” he mutters. When he looks back at Jimin, there’s a hard and very determined look in his eyes. “Give it back or I’ll take it by force.”
Maybe it’s the look or the words, but suddenly Jimin’s mind is reeling, as he unintentionally starts imagining what Jeon Jungkook’s taking it by force might look like.
And even though he knows his cheeks are turning red now, he lifts his chin up high and scoffs.
“I would like to see you try.”
What he doesn’t expect, is for Jungkook to really go for it.
Suddenly, he’s yanked forward by his shoulders so harshly, that he stumbles and crashes into Jungkook’s hard chest with a yelp, bringing his arms up by instinct to catch himself. Immediately, his wrist is caught in a strong hold and twisted until he has no choice but to loosen his grip around the phone. It’s being snatched from his fingers only a second later, before he’s turned around with another shove and suddenly there are two arms around his chest, big and warm, caging him in, pulling him up.
Oh.
“Wha-“ Jimin’s face is burning as he squirms and struggles in Jungkook’s strong hold – to no avail – while being carried through the room, down the hallway and to the door. “Let me go!”
Everything is a blur, all he knows is that he’s being pressed against a very strong chest and then he’s manhandled out of the open door and shoved into the cold corridor. He stumbles and turns around.
“I can’t belie-“
With a slam the door shuts right in front of his nose.
“What the fuck,” he mumbles, his fingers finding the doorbell right away, pressing the button again and again and again.
“Jeon Jungkook!”
“Hello?” Comes Jeon Jungkook’s muffled voice through the door. “I would like to report an intruder.”
Jimin curses. “Fine! I’m leaving!”
So, Jimin can’t stop thinking about him. That Jeon Jungkook dude. It’s been almost two weeks and he’s still not over how incredibly hot that guy was.
It only hit him about an hour after he came back from his quest of giving Yujun a piece of mind, when he stepped into the shower, how insanely turned on he was by those muscles, that height, the tattoos and the piercings, the way Jeon Jungkook had towered over him and manhandled him around. He didn’t even make it out of the shower, had to jerk off right then and there, leaning against the cool tiles when his knees buckled from the intense orgasm, the hot water raining down on his equally heated skin.
All that didn’t change the fact, that he also couldn’t stop thinking about his Monstera. He felt kind of guilty for forgetting about his poor (not so) little plant and leaving it with that asshole Yujun to die. He probably should be grateful that Jeon Jungkook took care of it for him. But now he wanted it back.
So, he kept thinking about Jeon Jungkook and the Monstera literally every single day.
And Seokjin wasn’t amused at all when Jimin told him about it.
“Hyung, you’re pretty strong, right? Do you think you could carry a fully grown Monstera plant from the place where Yujun once lived to my apartment?”
Seokjin stared at him, mouth wide open. “What the hell did you do this time?!”
Needless to say, Seokjin isn’t much of a help, since he refuses to ‘partake in Jimin’s shenanigans’, as he calls it.
“And don’t you dare get our Taehyungie involved in this, you little devil!”
So, as per usual, Jimin needs to get shit done by himself. Admittedly, it’s his own shit, but still.
Unfortunately, he really needs help to get that plant from location A to location B and the strongest guy he can think of is, well, Jeon Jungkook. Whom he doesn’t mind seeing again, so…
That is why he finds himself in front of the other’s apartment door once again. It’s a Friday night and chances are high Jeon Jungkook isn’t even home, but Jimin was bored and couldn’t think of anything else to do. Admittedly, he can’t think of anything else than Jeon Jungkook in general these days.
He’s more than surprised when, after ringing the bell only once, there’s rustling behind the door, before it opens with a click.
“You’re early, I didn’t- oh.”
Jungkook blinks down at him. And he looks so fucking mouthwatering, that Jimin literally has to swallow his spit down when he takes him in. Black joggers and a black shirt, long-sleeves this time, but again illegally tight, showing off all the bulges underneath, his black hair a little damp, as if he’d taken a shower not too along ago. And how the hell is he so fucking tall.
“You were expecting me?” Jimin chirps as he weasels his way inside, before Jungkook can even think of shutting the door again.
“You! What the fuck are you doing here? Again?” Jungkook follows him into the living- and dinging area with quick steps. “Get out!”
“I’m here because I have a proposal for you,” Jimin says and turns around. Only now he registers the delicious smell, obviously coming from the kitchen island on the other side of the room, where something is bubbling and boiling in two big pots.
“Oh, it smells good, what are you cooking?” He takes a step closer but Jungkook blocks his way with his big body.
“Kimchi-jjigae,” Jungkook says, crossing his arms. “Now, what do you want?”
Jimin purses his lips and leans to the side to get another look at the pots, because it really does smell delicious and he loves kimchi stew, but Jungkook’s fingers snapping loudly in front of his face make him take a step back.
“Okay, okay,” he puts his hands up. “Listen here: I will buy you a brand new Monstera, if you help me get this one,” he points behind himself with his thumb, where his beloved plant is located, “to my place.”
Jungkook stares at him long and hard, before he sighs, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, as if contemplating his whole life.
“I can’t believe I’m about to ask this,” he mumbles, before looking back down at Jimin. “Park Jimin, right?”
“Yep.”
“Well, Jimin-ssi, why don’t you just buy a new one for yourself? Get it conveniently delivered to your home?”
Jimin blinks. “Because I want this one.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
“My answer is no.”
“What? Why?” Jimin whines.
Jungkook takes a step closer, so close now, that Jimin has to crane his neck to look him in the eyes. It annoys him, while making a hot shiver run through his body all at the same time.
“Because you’re a little brat,” Jungkook says. “Do you usually get what you want with that attitude?”
“I mean…,” Jimin falters, definitely a little flustered at the fact that Jungkook just called him a little brat. “I guess?”
He is indeed used to getting everything he wants when he whines long enough for it.
“Well, that doesn’t work with me. And now get out.”
Jimin scoffs, trying not to stare too hard at Jungkook’s bottom lip and the silver lip ring there.
“It’s simple,” he says, looking down to inspect his nails, acting nonchalant. “I will leave, but only if I get the Monstera.”
“I’ll just call the police again.”
Jimin smiles sweetly. “You could, but then I would just come back again and again and again... You could also just help me carry the Monstera to my place and I’ll leave you alone forever.”
“Ever heard of restraining orders?”
Jimin blinks. Well shit. That sounds scary.
“That… uhh… w-would be a bit over the top now, wouldn’t it?”
Jungkook shrugs, lifting his eyebrow in sync with his shoulders.
“You’re kind of harassing me.”
Jimin splutters. “I’m not harassing you!”
“You intrude into my home, twice, and then you refuse to leave when I tell you to do so. I’m sure that counts as harassment.”
“So, you’re scared of me?” Jimin chuckles, raising his eyebrows.
“Of you?” The other looks him up and down. Jimin knows he doesn’t look as intimidatingly sexy as last time, went for the cute look this time around, with tight jeans, a fluffy sweater and simple sneakers, but he doesn’t miss the way Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bops. He feels a little smug at that and also kind of hot.
“Of course not,” Jungkook continues with a snort. “You’re fucking…” There is a little rasp in his voice at the next word. “…tiny.”
Jimin wants to loudly disagree, he really does, but of course he would look stupid doing so because Jungkook is kind of right. Next to him, Jimin is definitely tiny. Next to him, Jimin feels tiny. And it turns him on. Kind of. Yeah.
“That’s easy to say, coming from the big guy,” he says and swallows thickly.
Get it together, Jimin.
“Me being big doesn’t change the fact that you’re small. Just look at your hands.”
Suddenly, Jimin’s wrist is caught in an iron grip, the sudden skin on skin contact making his heart skip a beat, before his hand is yanked up, held up between them. And then Jungkook giggles. Giggles. While examining Jimin’s hand.
Great.
If there’s one thing Jimin is insecure about – and there really aren’t many, he knows he’s hot – it’s his hands. His fingers specifically.
“I know my fingers are short, thank you very much,” he says and curls his hand into a fist to hide those tiny fuckers, trying his best to sound indifferent, but Jungkook’s smirk makes it very clear that it didn’t work.
“Your whole body is short.”
Jimin rolls his eyes in annoyance and tries to pull his hand from Jungkook’s hold.
“Let me go.”
“Why?” Jungkook asks, letting go of his wrist. “Finally ready to leave, shorty?”
Jimin snorts, rubbing his skin where Jungkook held him. “Careful. They might be small but they can punch really hard.”
Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to laugh at that. Out loud. Head thrown back and everything.
Jimin bristles inside, and without thinking twice, he curls his fist tighter and aims for Jungkook’s stomach.
What he didn’t take into account however, is the fact that Jungkook’s stomach is really hard. Which he should’ve known because he’s been ogling the outline of his abs, visible through the tight shirt, the whole damn time. But still, he’s taken by surprise, when his fist makes contact with that hardness, the dull sound of impact vibrating from his hand through his entire body. It makes him audibly gasp.
And before he can stop himself, his hand flattens out, his palm pressing against the muscles underneath. It’s only a second before his brain catches on and he yanks his hand back. His face grows hot and when he meets Jungkook’s eyes, they are twinkling in amusement.
“I should be mad that you’re physically assaulting me now too, on top of everything, but… That’s really all you’ve got?”
Jimin glares at him. “You want me to try again?”
Before Jungkook can say anything else, a hissing noise erupts from the kitchen, followed by a loud curse coming from Jungkook, who whips around and hurries to the stove, where something is boiling over violently.
Jimin follows him, only now realizing how… dazed he’s feeling. Jungkook really didn’t budge, not even an inch, when Jimin hit him. And it pains Jimin to admit it, but he did put force behind it. Jungkook is just so fucking big.
Jimin swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat that’s tingling on his skin, which isn’t easy because he really has a thing for big guys and he also hasn’t had one in quite a while. A big guy. A guy in general, to be honest, but especially a big guy. Someone who makes him feel this small, someone who could just hold him down and…
Jimin clears his throat and tries to pull himself out of it by examining the mess on the kitchen counter, letting his eyes wander over the remnants of ingredients, the empty packages of kimchi, tofu and pork belly, the cans and containers with seasoning…
“You’re using vegetable broth? Why?”
“Why the hell not?” Jungkook asks, as he lowers the heat of the pot, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon somehow aggressively.
“Because Kimchi stew tastes a lot better with chicken broth.”
“Vegetable broth is fine.”
“Vegetable broth is shit, chicken broth is better.”
Jungkook throws his head back and groans.
Then he pulls one of the drawers open with a clattering sound, fishing for a spoon. He collects some of the stew with it, holding the hollow of his hand underneath to avoid anything from spilling on the floor, while he blows on it a couple of times, before turning around.
Only a moment later, Jimin’s mouth is forced open by his chin, the spoon shoved between his lips almost violently. A surprised sound leaves his throat and he stumbles backwards, Jungkook following him, still holding his chin, his eyebrows drawn together as he pulls the spoon from Jimin’s mouth.
“I dare you to say this tastes bad.”
Jimin stares up at him while holding the warm broth in his mouth and tries to ignore the fact, that Jungkook’s fingers are still touching his chin and that they’re standing unnecessarily close too.
He swallows slowly, makes a show out of smacking and licking his lips, watches as Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to watch it.
“It tastes bad.”
Of course it doesn’t taste bad, it’s a straight up lie, but he would never admit that it tastes fucking amazing.
Jungkook scoffs. “I know you’re lying, shorty.”
His hand is still on Jimin’s chin. Does he even realize he’s doing it?
“Stop calling me that,” Jimin says and wants to add a ‘And get your hands off me.’ but honestly, Jungkook’s hand on his face doesn’t feel too bad and he doesn’t really want it off, so he just clamps his mouth shut to glare at him.
That’s when Jungkook seems to realize himself that he’s still touching Jimin. He lets his hand sink rather slowly but doesn’t step back, just keeps standing there, right in front of Jimin, way too close, towering over him, staring down at him. This close, his eyes look incredibly dark and kind of intimidating but Jimin doesn’t step back either, refuses to be the one to break eye contact.
And then it’s like some kind of electricity is arcing between them. It’s warming Jimin’s cheeks, making his heart pound.
“Gguk, why is your front door open?”
Jimin flinches at the sudden voice, coming from the hallway, and he takes a hasty step back, only to realize that Jungkook has somehow driven him into the corner of the kitchen counter, when the edge digs into his back painfully.
Jungkook blinks, as if confused for a moment, and draws back just in time, before three guys enter the kitchen.
“Oh. Hello?” One of them says.
“Hello,” Jimin croaks.
“Ah, Gguk-ah, you should’ve told us there is someone else coming for dinner! I would’ve put more effort into the dessert!” Another one complains, before stepping closer, offering his hand to Jimin with a radiant smile.
“Hi, I’m Jung Hoseok!”
“Umm… Park Jimin,” Jimin mumbles and shakes his hand.
The other two introduce themselves as Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon.
Then, an awkward silence settles over the kitchen. Jungkook looks back and forth between them, his mouth opening and closing, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything anytime soon, making the guy who introduced himself as Min Yoongi raise an eyebrow.
“So? How do you know each other?”
“Well, he’s…,” Jungkook gestures towards Jimin. “...umm… actually, he’s the guy I’ve told you about. The crazy one.”
“Excuse me?” Jimin huffs and crosses his arms.
Jung Hoseok’s eyes turn wide, when he looks at Jimin. “The one who broke into your apartment?”
“Nonono,” Jimin interrupts him. “Hold on, I didn’t break in! He opened the door for me!”
“You forced your way in!” Jungkook says.
“But I didn’t break in!”
“Technicalities.”
“Wait, so…,” Kim Namjoon looks between them. “Why did you invite him to dinner?”
“I didn’t!” Jungkook exclaims. “He came back and forced his way in again!”
All eyes turn to Jimin, who suddenly feels even more awkward and kind of nervous because he’s probably in trouble now.
Kim Namjoon takes a step forward, clearing his throat.
“Park Jimin, I have to ask you to leave immediately, or we’ll call the police. Unless…,” he blinks at Jungkook, his eyes flickering to the spoon in his hand. “Unless you want him here?”
“Huh? I- oh…” Jungkook looks down at the spoon and makes a kind of strangled sound. “No, I definitely don’t want him here.”
“Wow.” Jimin crosses his arms. “Rude.”
Jungkook scoffs. “What? I quite literally told you to leave. More than once.”
Jimin supposes he did, but still. He rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in defeat.
“Fine, I’m going. But only-“
“Don’t bring up the Monstera again, I swear to God!”
“But it’s mine!” Jimin bristles. “And I want it back!”
“It’s not yours! I told you, you abandoned it and now I-“
“Okay, I’m calling the police,” Kim Namjoon interrupts, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Jimin curses and stomps towards the hallway. “I’m going, I’m going.”
Jimin admits he’s being weird.
He admits that it’s – maybe – kind of crazy, that he’s standing in front of Jeon Jungkook’s door again, about a week later.
It’s early in the evening and he was in the area, passing Jungkook’s apartment building totally by chance on his way home from a meeting with the choreographer of a company he’s working with. He admits, he didn’t even think twice, when his feet carried him to the entrance of the building and up the stairs. And he admits, this time, it’s not because of the Monstera. Well, it kind of is, but it’s more because of Jeon Jungkook. And his big fucking arms.
This time, he rings the doorbell three times before something happens.
The door is yanked open and he yelps when he’s pulled inside violently and then dragged right into the kitchen, stumbling over his own feet as he tries to keep up with Jungkook and his tight grip on his upper arm. The other pulls out one of the chairs from the kitchen table, before pointing at it.
“Sit down,” he hisses.
Jimin does so, without thinking twice, while Jungkook looks at him with an expression that screams ‘annoyed as fuck’, before leaning in, his face suddenly very close.
“Stay here,” he whisper-yells. “And keep your mouth shut.”
Jimin blinks, irritated, opening his lips to say something but Jungkook cuts him off.
“Shut it!” He whispers. “I’m on the phone and it’s important. So, stay here and keep fucking quiet.”
“Okay, okay,” Jimin whispers back, holding his hands up in surrender.
Jungkook looks at him warily, but then turns around to hurry to the other side of the room, where his phone is placed on the coffee table, right on top of some important looking documents. He picks it up.
“Sir? Yes, my apologies, I umm…” He throws Jimin a glare, which Jimin answers with a saccharine smile. “…got a package.”
He sits down on the couch, his back turned to Jimin now, shuffling through the documents, keeping his phone pinned between his shoulder and his ear. “Yes, haha, our mailman is very persistent sometimes. Where were we?”
For a while, Jimin just sits there, staring daggers into the back of Jungkook’s head, examining his broad shoulders, while Jungkook talks on the phone about things like product photos and schedules for shootings. Jimin briefly wonders if Jungkook works as a model – he has the looks – but soon he understands that Jungkook is actually the one taking the photos. He’s a little surprised, but as he lets his eyes wander around the apartment, it starts to make sense. He hasn’t paid much attention before, but the walls are plastered with artsy pictures of buildings, landscapes and even people, without showing any faces.
One in particular catches Jimin’s eye. He blinks and stands up, approaching the wall with quiet steps, passing Jungkook on the couch, whose head whips towards him, throwing him a warning glance.
“Yes, the 14th would work perfectly,” he speaks into the phone, his eyes not leaving Jimin, who makes a zipping movement in front of his mouth to indicate that he’ll be quiet, before he turns to look at the photo.
It’s a relatively dark black and white shot of a woman only wearing a black bodysuit, the dim lighting accentuating the slim muscles in her legs and arms, locked in place as she holds an Arabesque position. Jimin’s feels his own leg and back muscles tense, his toes curling inside his shoes in an unintentional attempt to point, as he is used to when dancing ballet himself.
It’s a beautiful picture that captures the moment perfectly.
Just as his eyes wander along the wall to get a better look at the other photos, there’s a hand on his side and before he knows what’s happening, he’s being shuffled back towards the kitchen table by an annoyed Jungkook. Jimin opens his mouth to protest, because he was literally just standing there, not making any noise whatsoever, but clamps it shut at Jungkook’s warning shake of head and lets himself be pushed down onto the chair again. He pouts as he watches Jungkook heading back to the coffee table.
“Ah yes, of course! Just let me get a pen to write it down.”
Jungkook shuffles through the mess of documents for a second, before pulling out a pen and a notebook. Then he starts jotting down notes, humming and nodding in agreement every now and then.
Jimin uses the opportunity of him being distracted to get up again, tiptoeing towards the other side of the room, to get a good look at the pictures there.
When he passes the entrance to the hallway, he stops in his tracks and his gaze gravitates towards something that pikes his interest.
The door to, what he assumes Jungkook uses as his bedroom, just like Yujun did back then, is wide open.
He’s really curious what it looks like now.
He gnaws at his lower lip, glancing at Jungkook, who has yet to notice that Jimin isn’t sitting in his spot anymore, too immersed in his note taking. He knows he shouldn’t do this, it’s kind of invasive, but it only takes a couple of seconds of uncertainty until curiosity gets the better of him. With slow movements, not to attract Jungkook’s attention, he makes his way into the hallway and towards the open door.
When he steps inside, he’s greeted with a very different layout than he was used to back then. The bed is bigger than the one Yujun had, placed in the center of the wall, instead of the corner. The furniture is all matching, in shades of dark brown, a chic contrast to the white bed sheets and minimal décor, making the room look pretty classy, especially combined with the big window that leads to the balcony.
The room is tidy, showing that Jungkook cares about the space and the aesthetic of it. The only part that is standing out, because it doesn’t really fit the vibe, is the L-shaped corner desk at the far end of the room. Only one look is enough for Jimin to know that Jungkook is a gamer. Two monitors, with speakers on each side, keyboard and mouse, a headset hanging on a fancy looking headset stand. He lets his gaze wander further down to the big PC standing below the desk, which seems to be running at the moment, because some parts of it are glowing in a neon blue color.
He halts when his gaze gets caught on something. Something light on the dark wooden floor, right where the desk chair is standing. Scratches in the wood. Stemming from that one time when Jimin let Yujun fuck him against the wall in heels.
He chuckles humorlessly, when he remembers how pissed Yujun was at him afterwards, for ruining the floor. As if Jimin did it on purposes. He hopes the asshole got some money deducted from his deposit for it, even though they didn’t fix it when renting it out to the next person.
Jimin takes a couple of steps closer, to get a better look at the scratches, but doesn’t get far. Suddenly, he’s yanked back by the collar of his sweater, the fabric cutting into his throat painfully, making him yelp, before his back collides with a hard chest.
“What the fu-mph!”
A big hand on his mouth cuts him off, a palm pressing against his lips.
“No, I’m alright, it’s just my cat,” Jungkook says behind him, his voice vibrating against Jimin’s back. “Yes, he’s a little naughty sometimes.”
Maybe Jimin is imagining it, but he thinks Jungkook’s lips are closer to his ear when he says it. He takes a deep breath through his nose and swallows hard, before he tries to weasel himself free of Jungkook’s hold, but no matter how much he squirms, no matter how hard he pulls on Jungkook’s wrist and arm, the other keeps him pinned tightly to his chest. His broad chest. Jimin can feel the hard pecks against his shoulder blades and the strong hold Jungkook has on his face. It makes him feel small. And hot. Very hot. Maybe it’s just the proximity. Or the fact that his thoughts involuntarily travel to all the other things Jungkook could do to him with that strength, all the other ways in which he could hold him in place with just one arm.
Heat pools in his stomach and he squirms some more, because now he’s scared of popping a boner, just from the way Jungkook is keeping him trapped with a hand on his mouth.
He does the next best thing that comes to his mind: He pushes his tongue between his lips and licks Jungkook’s palm, tasting the light saltiness of his skin. But instead of letting go of him, Jungkook’s hold gets even tighter, almost bruising, his fingers digging into Jimin’s cheeks now, forcing Jimin’s head further back against his shoulder.
The display of dominance has another wave of heat roll over him and he’s not sure, but he thinks he can feel his dick twitch in his pants, and suddenly there’s a whimper. A pathetic fucking whimper and it comes right from his own fucking throat.
Jungkook stiffens behind him, faltering for a moment in what he’s saying to the person on the phone, before he catches himself and resumes speaking as if nothing has happened, but Jimin can feel his stare on him now. And he’s burning. His face is burning and his stomach is burning, he’s hot all over, because of embarrassment but also something else.
He tries to control his breathing, tries not to think about how insanely good Jungkook smells, the scent engulfing him, mixing with the heat from his skin, especially in the spot where Jungkook’s palm is still pressing against his mouth. And suddenly his damned brain thinks about what it would be like if Jungkook would move his hand to force Jimin’s mouth open and push his long fucking fingers between his lips instead. It takes all he has in him to keep the second needy moan from slipping out, but he’s breathing kind of hard now and he knows Jungkook can feel it against his palm.
“Thank you, Sir, for this opportunity,” he hears Jungkook say. “I promise, I won’t disappoint you.” There’s a pause, then Jungkook hums deeply and Jimin feels like he’s suffocating but in a good way. “Thank you, I’m looking forward to it too.” Another pause and Jimin’s heart is racing now. “Yes, thank you so much again. Okay, see you then. Bye!”
Then it’s silent.
Jimin assumes Jungkook has hung up but he doesn’t dare to move. And Jungkook doesn’t move either, keeps Jimin pinned against his front. Jimin’s heart is racing so hard, he can feel it in his throat, and he thinks it actually stops for a second when he feels Jungkook’s hot breath against his ear.
“I’m this close to putting you over my knee for snooping around like that.”
Jungkook’s voice is calm, but there’s a heat to his words that travels right between Jimin’s legs, that has him swallow thickly. This time, when he tries to pull Jungkook’s hand from his face, the other lets him.
“Do it then,” he breathes, refusing to turn around or look at Jungkook in any way.
It’s silent for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, three… then Jungkook exhales loudly behind him, before grabbing Jimin’s arm, pulling him across the room. Jimin only gets a fleeting look at his face, jaw hard and a determined look in his eyes, before he drops down on the bed and yanks Jimin face down over his knees.
“You better count for me,” Jungkook says, while Jimin’s hands scramble for purchase in the sheets, his cheeks burning. “If you count nicely and show me that you’re sorry for being a nuisance, I’ll stop at ten. If not, I’ll just keep going until you are sorry.”
Jimin gasps, when he’s yanked up by his hips, manhandled into a position that is to Jungkook’s liking. He lets him, because his mind is a little floaty already.
Then he feels the warmth of Jungkook’s palm through his pants, pressing down on his butt.
“Say red if you want to stop.”
“Okay,” Jimin whispers.
Only a second later, a slap lands against his clothed butt, making his breath hitch loudly, his stomach lurching with need. The need for more, the need for harder, for less cautious. He can tell Jungkook held back and he doesn’t want him to. So he does, what he does best: Being a brat about it.
“That’s all?” He rasps. “That wasn’t even worth counting.”
He hears Jungkook scoff. “Are you trying to rile me up on purpose? You’re biting off more than you can chew, Jimin.”
The tone in which he says Jimin’s name is dark and rough and then, suddenly, Jimin’s pants are yanked down, all the way, until they’re hanging in the hollows of his knees. When cool bedroom air grazes his skin, Jimin feels a little ashamed of his ass being out – and his dick too for that matter, totally touching Jungkook’s jeans – and bites his lips, his cheeks burning.
For a moment nothing happens, as if Jungkook is waiting for Jimin to stop him. But Jimin doesn’t want him to stop. So he just closes his eyes and waits, feeling his heartbeat all the way up in his throat. He flinches slightly, when a warm palm smooths over his naked bottom, caressing each rounded cheek slowly, almost gently.
“That’s not what you said you would do, Jung-“
The next slap comes unexpected, the sound of skin hitting naked skin reverberating off the walls and it stings.
“Fuck!” Jimin curses through clenched teeth.
“I believe you meant to say ‘one’,” Jungkook chuckles. “Let’s try that again.”
He gives him another slap, this time on the tender undercurve of his cheek.
“One,” Jimin gasps and then “Ow! Two!” at the next slap, right on the same spot, even more harshly.
“Ow?” Jungkook snorts, gripping the tender flesh. “We’re only at two and you’re already whining?”
“We’d be at three if you wouldn’t be so nitpicky,” Jimin mumbles into the sheets, even though he knows better. His face is hot and he feels kinda fuzzy around the edges, but he wants more. Needs more. More of a push.
Being a brat doesn’t mean he wants to be secretly in control. It means he wants someone who can push him into submission. He’s not interested in people he can control by being bratty, by whining or acting annoying. He wants to be given boundaries and he wants to overstep them. And then he wants to be punished when he does. He wants to be put in his place, wants to feel small, and then he wants to be taken care of.
“That’s absolutely your own fault,” Jungkook’s tone is calm, almost bored. “And if you talk back again, we’re going to start over, understood?”
The next slap crashes down onto Jimin’s ass so hard, that it makes him shriek at the stinging pain.
“Y-Yes,” he gasps.
“Good boy,” Jungkook hums, the words making Jimin’s gut clench. “But you forgot to count.”
“Three!”
“Nope, we’re starting over.”
Jimin whines.
The next two blows both land on the exact same spot. Jimin feels his skin heat up from the impact, his ass bouncing with every hit. He counts them dutifully, the heat in his belly increasing, his cock twitching. Jungkook kneads the flesh, blunt nails scraping over sore skin, the sharp pain making Jimin shudder, before another two hits land on each cheek.
“Three… F-Four…” Jimin tries to calm his breathing, it really starts to hurt now and he tries to stop his hips from squirming because by now he’s definitely fully hard and he’s a little embarrassed by it, hopes Jungkook hasn’t noticed. He bites his lips and tries to stifle the groan that’s forming at the back of his throat. For a moment it seems his efforts are working, but when Jungkook pulls his hand back, whether by accident or on purpose, his fingers grace Jimin’s balls. Jimin gasps at the feeling and the groan in his throat slips out, echoing loudly around them, his hips jolting forward, driving his erection right into Jungkook’s thigh.
Nobody moves for a moment, the silence around them heavy and tense. Jimin’s face is flaming, his heart racing.
“With that bratty attitude of yours,” Jungkook starts, his voice rough. “I should’ve known you get off on being punished.”
At the last word, Jimin feels another blow to his skin, so violent that it brings tears to his eyes, driving him forward into Jungkook’s thigh again. He can’t stop the broken moan of pleasure from leaving his lips when Jungkook’s thigh shifts under him, pressing hard against his cock. He feels the sudden need to roll his hips, to rut into Jungkook’s legs hard and fast, the need to spread his thighs…
“You forgot to count, sweetheart.” Jungkook sounds amused.
Oh.
Jimin tries to focus, tries to remember where they were.
“Five,” he rasps.
“Too late. We’re starting over.”
“No,” Jimin whines. His ass is a mass of fire already. “I’m sorry, I’m so-“
At the next slap, the tears in his eyes are starting to spill over. There’s something clenching and tightening in his abdomen at the fact that Jungkook is ignoring his whining, just carrying on. It’s fucking hot.
“Six…” He sobs.
“I said we’re starting over,” Jungkook’s tone is hard. “Don’t make me repeat myself. The next one is your first one.”
Jimin whines loudly but is interrupted by the next blow, the slapping sound echoing around them.
It’s silent for a heartbeat and Jimin is contemplating…
“Seven,” he then whispers, his heart racing.
Jungkook sighs.
“I can do this all day, Jimin. If my hand gets tired, I have lovely tools I could use.”
Jimin swallows thickly against the dryness in his throat.
“W-What tools?” He rasps into the sheets, the heat of his own breath spreading on his face.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook chuckles.
Jimin would indeed like to know but his thoughts are interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in his left butt cheek. It takes a moment for him to register that Jungkook is pinching him, two fingers squeezing his already sore flesh.
“Ah!” It makes Jimin shy away, trying to escape by pushing his hips forward, driving his hard cock right into Jungkook’s thigh again while doing so, shuddering and gasping when the stinging pain intermingles with the heat in his lower belly. “Ow— I’m sorry!” He whines, but Jungkook doesn’t let up. “I’m sorry, I’m- ah!”
When Jungkook’s fingers leave him and his palm comes down on the very same spot roughly, Jimin sobs, the mix of pleasure and pain sending shocks of electricity right into his cock.
“One…” He whispers. “One... P-Please…”
“Please what?”
Jungkook strikes again, the hot feeling rippling through Jimin’s whole body once more. He moans.
“T-Two… Fuck…”
At the next blow, Jimin can feel his ass jiggle exceptionally hard.
“Three,” he says breathlessly and gasps in surprise, when Jungkook’s fingertips ghost over his balls again, very much on purpose this time. Then he feels them pause, as if unsure for a split second, before sliding lightly between his cheeks. Jimin chokes on air, his thighs clenching, his cock throbbing and he pushes against Jungkook’s leg again, needing more contact, more friction.
Jungkook’s other hand presses down on the small of his back.
“Stay still,” he hears him mutter.
The next three smacks come a bit lighter, but merciless without a pause, before bruising fingers resume kneading his flesh roughly.
“Four—Five—Six—" Jimin’s out of breath now, his vision blurry, his mind cloudy. Jungkook’s fingers wander over the sore skin of his butt and then they’re ghosting over his crack again. Jimin’s thighs quiver at the touch, and he ruts into Jungkook’s once more, being stilled by the pressure on his lower back.
“Spread your legs,” Jungkook says hoarsely.
Jimin’s feet are somewhat tangled in his pants but he manages to kick them off, together with his shoes, before spreading his knees as far as his position allows.
He cries out at the next stinging slap. “Seven!”
And then the hand on his lower back is gone, and suddenly, his cheeks are spread apart by warm fingers. He feels the cool bedroom air, knows Jungkook can see everything now. He whimpers.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
Jungkook’s question hangs kind of heavy in the room and Jimin stills in his lap, hasn’t even realized he’s been squirming so much again. Red, his mind provides. ‘Say red if you want to stop.’
“Yeah, I remember…” He mumbles, muffled by the sheets, a strangled sound leaving his throat when Jungkook slides a finger down to lightly touch his rim. It clenches immediately, as if trying to suck Jungkook in, but the touch is gone as soon as it came.
“Use it if you want to stop.”
Even through the fog in Jimin’s brain, the implication is crystal clear.
“Okay,” he whispers.
Jungkook pauses a moment, before he exhales shakily, then his hands are gone and Jimin hears a drawer opening and closing behind him.
“Hold still,” Jungkook says, when Jimin starts squirming again and Jimin wills his hips to stop, the fire in his gut burning only hotter, when he hears the snap of a bottle cap.
Holy shit.
Then his throbbing cheeks are spread apart again, a finger brushing over his hole, slick with lube this time, gently circling it. Every muscle in Jimin’s body seems to contract, the pleasure inside of him swelling and growing at the slick feeling between his cheeks. He trembles and screws his eyes shut, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
Fuck, he wants it inside. He wants Jungkook’s finger inside of him so badly, wants it to open him up, wants to be fucked by it until he can’t even remember his own name anymore.
It’s silent around them, nobody says a word, the only noise being the slick sound of lube and Jimin’s gasps, when Jungkook increases the pressure, massaging his rim firmly.
And then Jimin feels him pushing inside.
He presses his face into the mattress, gripping the sheets, a long whine leaving his throat at the feeling of Jungkook’s long finger sliding into him gradually. It’s slow and electric, and even though it’s just one finger, there is this feeling of hot fullness that makes Jimin’s mind break a little.
When he’s all the way inside, Jungkook stills for a moment, spreading Jimin’s cheeks apart with his free hand, most likely watching Jimin’s hole clenching around him. Then he pulls all the way out again, slowly, so slowly, before pushing back inside.
“So pretty,” Jungkook says quietly, over the squelch of lube. “Probably the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen, especially all red like this.” He runs his free hand over one of Jimin’s throbbing cheeks and Jimin moans, hot arousal tightening in his lower belly.
Then Jungkook repeats the motion of his finger, over and over, slowly pushing in and pulling out again. Each time he pulls out, Jimin’s muscles tighten, trying to suck him back inside.
“So greedy too,” the other mumbles. “Little slut.”
Suddenly, another stinging blow lands on Jimin’s ass, making him cry out in a mix of surprise and pain. His mind is reeling, scrambling, trying to remember.
“Eight,” he breathes after what seems like forever, followed by a loud moan when Jungkook starts moving his finger faster and harder, over and over, before pulling back out, leaving him fluttering and empty.
Jimin hears the bottle opening and closing again, and then Jungkook’s fingers are back, two this time, coated in even more lube.
When Jungkook pushes back inside, Jimin feels the stretch, also feels the excessive amount of lube, running over his balls. He feels wet and messy, dripping and full, and he loves it, wants more and more and more. Jungkook’s hand on his lower back stops him from rutting his hips and Jimin can’t even complain, because the fingers inside him begin moving now, pumping in and out in a calm and steady pace.
And then Jungkook touches that spot that has a surge of burning delight ripple through Jimin, making his toes curl.
“Oh God,” he sobs, his legs shaking.
“Hm?” Jungkook chuckles, pushing deeper inside, harder, massaging his prostate with skilled movements. Jimin moans brokenly, keeps shaking, feels precum collecting on the tip of his cock, the heat in his lower belly slowly spreading through his whole body, into his limbs, tingling between his legs.
He cries out, when Jungkook angles his fingers up, pushing in even deeper, before picking up the pace. Jimin can’t do anything but lie there and gasp in hot pleasure, while the slick sound of too much lube echoes loudly in the room, the slippery feeling between his legs making him bite his lips. His cock twitches in time with each movement inside him and by now he’s literally leaking, oh God, he’s leaking so much, it’s embarrassing. He feels the warm wetness of his precum against his lower stomach, where his cock is trapped, knows Jungkook can feel it seeping through his jeans. He feels like he’s on fire, the hot tension in his lower half building and building until it’s so hot, that it’s almost boiling over.
His eyes snap open, when Jungkook shifts his leg against Jimin’s hard cock again, pressing against that spot inside of him hard at the same time. And suddenly he’s not able to control his hips anymore. Everything is hot and everything is tight and he’s rolling against the fingers inside of him, rutting his cock into Jungkook’s thigh, shocks of pleasure zapping through him, making him burn hotter, making every muscle inside his body clench.
“Oh—" He whines into the sheets, rolling his hips. “Shit— gonna come—” His sweaty fingers are straining where he’s grabbing the fabric, while he’s gasping for air, almost there, almost at the edge, almost... “Gonna come, gonna-"
Suddenly the fingers inside him are gone and a loud slap echoes through the room.
“Ah!” Jimin cries out at the stinging pain, then whimpers when his empty hole clenches around nothing. “Nine… Nine… Please, please, please, please-”
His head is yanked back by his hair, forcing him to arch his neck and spine, and then he feels Jungkook’s big body leaning over him, his breath hot against his ear.
“Want me to fuck you, Jimin?”
Oh God.
“Yes—" Jimin rasps. “Yes, Yes—"
Jungkook’s hand squeezes his cheek painfully hard, before delivering one last blow.
“Ten,” Jimin sobs.
“Well done,” Jungkook chuckles. “Finally made it to ten.” His tone is mocking, but his hand is rubbing soothing patterns on Jimin’s lower back for a moment.
“Now get on your knees.”
Jimin’s swallows down a moan at the command, slipping off Jungkook’s lap and lowering himself to his knees on the floor between the other’s legs. His ass feels so sore, the pressure of his heels against his skin is almost too much to take and only now he realizes how wet his face is, the cool bedroom air hitting his tear-stained cheeks.
He blinks the blurriness from his eyes, before looking up at Jungkook.
The other is sitting on the bed with his legs spread, leaning back on his hands, and Jimin’s gaze gravitates towards the area where his jeans are straining against an obvious bulge. There is a very big wet patch of Jimin’s precum on his thigh, painfully visible against the pale blue fabric. The sight makes Jimin’s cheeks burn.
Jungkook’s eyes are half lidded when he looks Jimin up and down, pausing between his legs, where Jimin feels another drop of precum running down his length. Something hot flickers through Jungkook’s gaze, then he extends his leg, his socked foot pressing against Jimin’s hard cock and a strangled sound leaves Jimin’s throat, the sensation making him collapse forward, rutting his groin into the pressure.
Jungkook chuckles, before pulling back. “Cute,” he grins. Then he sits up tall and nods towards Jimin’s shirt. “Take it off.”
Jimin exhales shakily, doing as he’s told with trembling fingers, discarding his shirt next to him. When he looks back at Jungkook, the other is taking him in again, and Jimin feels his hole clench, empty and kind of cold and he wants nothing more than for Jungkook to fuck him, but his mind stumbles to a halt, when Jungkook gets up to his feet, reaching out to put his palm against Jimin’s cheek, his fingers still a little wet and slippery with lube.
His gaze roams around Jimin’s face, then he trails his thumb over Jimin’s bottom lip and Jimin’s tongue darts out before he can stop himself, giving it a lick.
The corners of Jungkook’s mouth twitch into a smile.
“You’re a pretty little thing,” he murmurs and Jimin feels himself clench around nothing again. “So cute and small.” He pushes his thumb between Jimin’s lips roughly. “But such a fucking brat.”
He massages Jimin’s tongue for a moment, before pulling his wet thumb out, wiping the wetness all over Jimin’s lips.
“Wanna fuck that bratty mouth of yours first,” he says, his eyes burning into Jimin’s. “You okay with that?”
Jimin’s gaze flickers to the massive tent in Jungkook’s jeans and swallows hard, before he nods.
The other pats his cheek. “Good.”
Then he unzips his pants. It’s a long unzip, a teasing one, one that makes Jimin aware how naked he is compared to the other, one that makes him squirm in anticipation, his eyes not leaving Jungkook’s fingers. He almost gasps in awe, when the other frees himself.
Jungkook is packing, his cock long and slightly flushed and fucking thick.
When he glances up, Jungkook is grinning down at him.
“Suddenly so silent, Jimin?” He chuckles, then he nudges the hot tip of his cock against Jimin’s lips. “Open up.”
Jimin licks his lips before he parts them and when Jungkook’s smooth hot length glides into his mouth, sliding over his wet tongue like silk, he moans at the taste and the warm and heavy feeling, watches from beneath his eyelashes how Jungkook’s lips part with a gasp, when Jimin lets his tongue flicker around the tip.
Then Jungkook pushes deeper and deeper, carefully, gauging Jimin’s reaction and Jimin shuffles a little on his knees, bringing his hands to Jungkook’s thighs for leverage, flattening his tongue, opening his throat, swallowing.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, when he slides all the way inside. He stays there for a short moment, his balls pressing against Jimin’s chin, before pulling back. Then he pushes inside again, his hand fisting in Jimin’s hair, the pull sending a hot throb between Jimin’s legs.
Over the next couple of minutes there’s a lot of wet choking and gagging as Jungkook fucks Jimin’s throat. It’s loud and nasty and Jimin loves it, loves the strain in his jaw, the raw feeling at the back of his throat, trying to accommodate to Jungkook’s size, the tears on his cheeks and the drool on his chin. It makes him feel used and owned and good.
“If I had known it’s this easy to shut you up, I would’ve done this sooner,” Jungkook groans. “Should’ve stuffed your bratty mouth with my cock right away.” He pushes inside with one last thrust, making Jimin choke on it, before sliding all the way out.
Then Jimin is pulled up, almost trips over, steadied by hands on his waist just in time, his legs jittering, just like his mind. He’s still gasping for air, swallows around the burn in his throat, feeling as if Jungkook’s cock was still inside.
His own cock is pressing against Jungkook’s thigh wetly, as the other tilts his face up, looking down at him, suddenly very close and Jimin swallows hard at the sight of him licking his lips, the pink tongue darting out and back in. His gaze gravitates towards the plush bottom lip and the silver piercing, zoning in on the way it moves when Jungkook speaks.
“So messy,” Jungkook says, while wiping the drool from Jimin’s chin.
His breath is hot against Jimin’s lips and Jimin isn’t too sure if he should do it or not, but he really wants to, and suddenly his hand finds itself in Jungkook’s nape. For a split second he catches the surprised look on the other’s face, before he pushes their lips together desperately. It’s only the fraction of a heartbeat, before Jungkook is moving. He yanks Jimin closer and their kiss is almost gentle at first, before their mouths are moving harder against each other with increasing pressure, then with tongue, tasting each other, sucking the other in, their breaths intermingling.
Suddenly, they’re on the bed again, Jimin in Jungkook’s lap and they’re still kissing and kissing, a battle of lips and teeth and fingers pulling on hair, their hard and wet cocks rutting against one another. Jimin presses himself against Jungkook’s hard body, his hands sliding up and down his big arms.
The muscles in Jungkook’s shoulder tensing under Jimin’s palms is the only warning he gets before his world is flipped upside down and suddenly he’s on his hand and knees, his upper body pushed into the sheets by a rough hand between his shoulder blades, his hips being yanked up, forcing him to arch his back, his butt high up in the air.
He looks back over his shoulder, when Jungkook’s hands leave him, watches as the other stands up to pull his shirt over his head and kick his pants off.
Like this, fully naked, he’s annoyingly gorgeous too. Smooth skin and bulging muscles, the tattoo on his arm extending all the way to his chest, his nipples pierced, his big cock standing hard and proud, whipping up and down when he moves to get a condom out of the drawer of the nightstand, before climbing back on the bed, coming up behind Jimin.
Jimin whimpers when there’s a nip of teeth on one of his sore cheeks, the pain travelling straight to his cock, making him shudder.
Jungkook chuckles lowly, before kissing and nipping his way from Jimin’s butt, up his spine, to his shoulders, biting Jimin’s nape and lightly pulling the tip of Jimin’s ear with his teeth.
“You took your punishment well,” Jungkook breathes hotly and Jimin can feel the weight of his cock pressing heavily against his sore bottom. “And you’ll take my cock well too, won’t you?”
Jimin can only moan, when he feels Jungkook’s fingers between his cheeks again, pressing inside with one swift motion, his hole still lubed up and ready. Ready to be filled, ready to be fucked. Jungkook’s hum sounds pleased when Jimin clenches around him. Then he’s gone again and Jimin hears the telltale sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open, then the familiar sound of lube.
He brings his hands back to take hold of his cheeks, pulling them apart, biting his lips at the burning sensation of his palms against his sore skin. When he turns his head to look over his shoulder again, he catches Jungkook staring at his ass with dark eyes, his lips parted, while he’s working his lubed-up cock slowly. Jimin briefly wonders what he looks like right now, with his red butt cheeks spread apart by his small hands, his hole open, wet and fluttering for Jungkook…
Jungkook shuffles forward on his knees, putting one hand on top of Jimin’s, while taking hold of his cock with the other.
Heat ripples through Jimin’s body like lighting when he feels the hot tip of Jungkook’s cock between his cheeks, nudging his rim. The sensation makes him moan into the pillow, spreading his thighs even further, pulling his cheeks apart even wider.
“Yeah,” Jungkook murmurs. “Open up for me.”
Then there is pressure and a slow burn when Jungkook pushes inside.
Jimin bites his lower lip. Jungkook is filling him up, stretching him wider and wider, sliding deeper and deeper, until his thighs meet the back of Jimin’s.
Jimin trembles in pleasure, burying his sweaty fingers into the burning flesh where he’s still holding himself open, suddenly feeling very breathless and very very full. Fuck, Jungkook is so big, it hurts. Just a little bit, but it’s there, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously, making him lose his mind. He knows he will feel this tomorrow and probably the day after and maybe the day after that too.
Jungkook stays still for a moment, then he rolls his hips slightly, a curse and a low moan rumbling through the room, the sound making Jimin feel hot all over, something fluttering inside him at the fact that he’s making Jungkook feel good.
He clenches violently around the girth inside him, his heart beating fast in his chest and then a strangled moan is ripped from his throat when Jungkook pulls out slowly. The movement makes Jimin clench and he’s not prepared for the force with which Jungkook snaps his hip forward again, burying himself back inside with one hard thrust.
“Fuck, such a good fucking ass,” Jungkook groans, before he repeats the motion. And again and again and again until Jimin’s thighs start quivering. And then Jungkook grazes his prostate and it’s like all air is slammed right out of Jimin’s lungs, hot pleasure shooting up his spine, a long whine escaping him.
“Oh God,” he moans. “Oh…” He feels his grip on his own cheeks slipping and at Jungkook’s next hard thrust he lets his hands fall, scrambling for support in the sheets.
That’s when Jungkook grabs him by his hips, speeding up his movements. Soon he’s fucking him in a quick steady rhythm and Jimin starts burning, burning all over, sweat forming on his skin. He’s moving now too, meeting Jungkook’s thrusts, forcing their hips harder together, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and their panting loud around them.
Jimin’s cock is leaking profusely, pre-cum oozing out of it bead after bead. It twitches with each of Jungkook’s thrust and it almost hurts, because it has hardly been touched. It’s flushed and wet and Jimin whines. He wants to touch himself so badly.
From the corner of his eyes, he sees Jungkook’s arms coming around from behind, gripping his wrists, pinning them into the mattress, immobilizing him, as if he’s aware of Jimin’s thoughts. He turns his head and stares at those bulging veins in Jungkook’s forearms and hands and the heat in his stomach begins to flow over.
“Please—” He sobs, although at this point, he isn’t even sure what he’s pleading for.
Jungkook nips on his nape and then, without a word, scoops Jimin up, both of his arms wrapping around his torso, trapping his arms, pressing him hard against his front, immobilizing him yet again. And Jimin loves it, feels like he’s burning, the hot pressure of Jungkook’s cock inside him making him dizzy.
“Fuck, you’re so tiny,” Jungkook groans and Jimin shivers. “It’s endearing... Wanted to do this— the whole time—" He pulls Jimin even closer, their naked skin sliding together, damp and hot. “When you came here with your tight pants and your—fuck— your tiny shirt—” He puts his mouth to Jimin’s ear. “And your bratty fucking attitude,” he hisses between clenched teeth.
Jimin’s cock is whipping up and down with each hard thrust and he thinks he’ll go insane.
“J-Jungkook,” he gasps. “Please touch m-me, oh—Please—”
Jungkook chuckles lowly, presses his nose into Jimin’s cheek for a moment and Jimin doesn’t know why, maybe he didn’t expect to really be touched at his request, but when Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the head of his cock, he isn’t prepared for it and his whole body convulses in pleasure.
“Oh f- ah! Fuck, f-fuck!” His throat feels raw and he realizes a second too late how loud he’s being.
Jungkook’s breath is hot against his ear.
“Shhh…”
Then he starts moving his hand in rhythm with his thrusts and Jimin’s body is on fire, feels like the heat is seeping out of him. He thinks he might be drooling but his mind is somewhat blank, all he knows is that he loves the feeling of Jungkook’s thick cock inside him, that he loves the way Jungkook hits his prostate every time, that he loves the sound of their breathing mixing with the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, that he loves the way Jungkook’s strong arms, wrapped around his body, make him feel small but safe. He can feel his stomach clench, his heart beating out if his chest.
He hears words being whispered into his ear, Jungkook telling him how good he takes it, how slutty he is, how pretty... It doesn’t take much longer for Jimin to reach the edge, the insane heat between his legs increasing more and more. It feels so good, then it feels even better, to the point where he thinks he can’t possibly take any more pleasure. He’s wet, smearing precum all over Jungkook’s palm, as he’s rutting into his fist uncontrollably, the tension in his lower belly getting tighter and he feels hot, so hot, he’s burning, he’s boiling, he’s boiling over.
“... m’gonna come,” he slurs, his core tightening, his thighs straining, his toes curling and then, with a final hit to his prostate, all his muscles lock and something explodes.
The world turns white and bright when his orgasm rolls over him, flooding through him so violently that he can’t breathe, spilling out if his twitching cock. He moans and sobs, makes a mess of Jungkook’s hand, shaking and quivering in his arms.
He’s still riding the waves of pleasure, still fuzzy and floaty, his vision blurry, when Jungkook’s ragged breathing turns into low moans against his ear. Then they suddenly fall forward and Jimin is pressed into the sheets, Jungkook pushing him down with one hand in his nape, while the other is gripping his hip to hold him in place. His thrusts turn harder and faster, more erratic, and then he slams his cock inside one last time with a loud groan, before Jimin feels it throb, as Jungkook releases into the condom, riding it out by grinding his hips, until he stops moving altogether.
Then he slumps forward, pressing his lips against Jimin’s neck, breathing hard against his skin, his body trembling above him.
It takes a while for Jungkook’s breathing to get back to normal. When it does, he maneuvers them onto their sides carefully, pressing against Jimin from behind, hugging him against his chest, his cock still buried deep inside. Everything stills. Jimin feels Jungkook’s heartbeat against his back. Or maybe it’s his own, who knows at this point. His mind is fuzzy and he sniffles, the tension slowly leaving his body, his limbs growing heavy.
How long they stay like this, Jimin doesn’t know. He closes his eyes and focuses on Jungkook’s warmth surrounding him, the tingling breath in his hair, the gentle stroke of fingertips against his skin. Slowly, his heartbeat is calming down.
He doesn’t remember much after that, his fuzzy brain slowly lulling him into a slumber.
But he remembers Jungkook’s dark attentive eyes on him, as he reaches for Jimin’s face to brush a strand of hair to the side. Remembers thinking how pretty Jungkook looks with his big eyes and his raw bitten lips and his tousled hair, damp with sweat. Remembers being carried to the bathroom, that looks so weirdly familiar but also different. Remembers being washed and cleaned, remembers being hugged and cuddled when he whines and complains, just a little bit, as Jungkook carefully spreads lotion on his sore and swollen bottom. And he remembers feeling warm and safe.
When Jimin wakes up, it’s the middle of the night and the room around him pitch black. It takes quite a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and make use of the little light that’s coming through the gaps in the curtains.
He’s in Jungkook’s bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, his body tired and very sore, but clean. It smells of fresh bedsheets and the lotion Jungkook put on his butt earlier.
The other is sleeping soundly next to him, his back turned to Jimin.
Jimin sits up slowly, wincing at the pain. Then he looks around and smiles to himself, when he catches sight of a glass of water, a protein bar and an apple, placed on the bedside table next to him. It’s kind of endearing.
He hesitates for a moment and almost feels bad, when he tiptoes around the room on shaky legs, after locating his folded clothes on the chair in front of the desk, slipping into them as quietly as possible. He doesn’t really want to leave, but he never stays in cases like this. He also has to lead a dance workshop early in the morning, which will be a challenge, considering how hard he’s been railed a few hours ago.
He grabs the apple from the bedside table for on the go, and, with one last glance at Jungkook’s sleeping form, slips out of the room.
He doesn’t hesitate though, when he tiptoes into the dark living room, luckily finding a piece of paper and a pen right away with the help of his phone flashlight, scribbling his number on it. He looks around for a place to put it and giggles to himself, when his eyes find the Monstera. He folds the paper, and sticks the edge of it into the soil, making it jut out in an angle so that Jungkook just has to find it.
Technically he could just come back again, like he’s been doing for the past few weeks, and he definitely wants to, after that mind-blowing orgasm. But he also wants to give Jungkook the opportunity to – well – make a move. Or rather, he wants to see if Jungkook is interested in making a move.
Jimin rubs one of the Monstera-leaves gently between his fingers and decides, yes, the ball is in Jungkook’s court now.
It’s the very next day when Jimin gets a text from an unknown number, only seeing it after his dance workshop has finished. (Which he powered through like a champ, albeit his throbbing ass.)
Wanna go out with me?
Unknown 09:03
His initial confusion lasts only for half a second and a smile tugs on his lips, when he replies with quick fingers.
Who is this?
You 12:13
Jungkook
Unknown 12:20
Jimin chuckles and suddenly his cheeks are hot and there is something fluttering in his stomach and he kind of wants to bury his face in his pillow and scream with joy.
Oh.
You 12:22
You found my number ;)
You 12:22
It was hard to miss
Jungkook 12:23
So?
Jungkook 12:24
So what?
You 12:24
Do you wanna go out with me.
Jungkook 12:25
Like a date?
You 12:26
Yes
Jungkook 12:26
Do I get the monstera if I say yes?
You 12:27
No.
Jungkook 12:28
Why? :(
You 12:28
Do you wanna go out with me or not, you little monster
Jungkook 12:29
Jimin giggles happily.
Yeah I’ll go out with you, big boy <3
You 12:30
When Jungkook picks him up for their first date a few weeks later, he doesn’t bring him flowers. Instead, he brings him a small yellow pot, with a tiny but familiar looking plant inside.
“I propagated it from the one at my place,” he says and looks endearingly shy when he hands Jimin the little Monstera.
Jimin finds the perfect spot for the plant in his apartment and it grows so fast, that he constantly has to buy bigger pots and more and more soil.
About three years later, it’s so big, that it doesn’t fit in his living room anymore.
Luckily, there’s still enough space in Jungkook’s living room and after Jimin has moved in with him, the two Monsteras live side by side, happily ever after.
- The End -