Archive of Our Own

“He’s still there,” Sunoo said, nudging Jimin’s stomach with his elbow. They were sprawled out in the gazebo in the faculty garden, enjoying the spring weather, talking about the last exam they had taken, but the subject had suddenly taken a turn that Jimin didn’t like.

“Why here?” Mingi asked. “The engineering faculty is at the other end of campus.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Him?” Sana laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been at this school for three years and I’ve never seen him talk to anyone, let alone a friend.”

“I’d talk to him,” Sunoo said in a tone of voice Jimin knew all too well, after taking his lower lip between his teeth. “Preferably in his bed.”

“Uh, no! He’s a nerd.”

“Well, I’d like to milk him.”

Sunoo’s laughter caused Jimin’s stomach to tighten, a searing heat flowing gently from his chest to his stomach.

“You’re disgusting!” he said.

Sana pushed Sunoo away and Sunoo sighed, dropping his light body into Jimin’s lap. “I think he’s very attractive. Did you see his shoulders? I’d like to dig my fingernails into his white skin and leave beautiful marks. He can do whatever he wants to me with his big hands. It would be fun to tug on his black hair.” He shrugged and looked at his friends one by one. “Come on! You can’t deny he’s hot.”

Jimin’s lips parted slightly. He wanted to say something. To shut him up, to scold him, maybe even shout at him. It wasn’t right for him to talk like that, to talk about someone he’d never met as a sexual object. It was not right at all!

But he couldn’t. And why would he do it?

There had been people who had been on the radar of his group of friends before and about whom they had said much dirtier things.

“Okay, fine,” Sana said. “Sounds good.”

But that wasn’t enough for Sunoo. “Not just good, he looks damn good.” He turned and looked at Jimin with excitement. “I’m sure Jimin thinks the same as me. In fact, Yoongi is just his type.”

“Min Yoongi is Jimin’s type?” Mingi was astonished. She couldn’t imagine Jimin next to this quiet, silent boy who never spoke and only nerded out.

“Bastards with pretty faces and mysterious hangouts are exactly Mimi’s thing.”

Sunoo looked at them in amazement.

His friends marveled at him.

“I don’t remember seeing anyone like him around Jimin,” Sana said after a while. “Joon Seo was tall and well built.”

“Jung Woo too,” Mingi interjected.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, they were tall and stupid. It was obvious that Jimin wasn’t crazy about them. They just hung out.”

“You’re going to talk about my love life in front of me?” said Jimin, finally breaking his silence. He leaned his elbows on the back of the bench. “And I sure don’t want to hear Jung Woo’s name.”

“See?” Sunoo grinned triumphantly. “He can’t even stand them.”

Sunoo was right. At least Jimin knew he was right. Neither Joon Seo, nor Jung Woo, nor any of the guys he hung out with just because his circle of friends thought they were cute, had ever been able to excite him. Jimin was a nice guy. He was handsome, charming and outgoing enough to make people call him a “social butterfly”, and his circle was shaped accordingly. Still, that didn’t mean he liked everyone he hung out with for a few months and showed up at house parties or walked hand in hand in the faculty garden.

Jimin was just fitting in. Because that was one of the best things he knew how to do. To fit in.

Min Yoongi was a misfit.

In a word.

It was true that he was quiet and calm. He didn’t talk to anyone or have any friends. He never missed a class, and in his free time he studied in the gazebo in the faculty garden or in the library. Jimin had never seen him at the house parties organized by a different rich snob every week. Of course he hadn’t. It would have been a miracle if he had, because one thing Jimin was sure of was that Min Yoongi didn’t have time for the things his peers had time for, and not just because he was a nerd, as Sana and Mingi had said.

Min Yoongi didn’t consider them worth his time.

That’s what Jimin was sure of.

Yoongi was an introvert and a loner. Maybe a little shy, but not as much as one might think. At least shyness wasn’t the reason he didn’t interact with these people.

“Oh my God, he’s looking over here!” When Sunoo whispered excitedly to him, Jimin was shaken out of his deep thoughts.

“Oh my God.” Mingi took his gaze off Yoongi and looked at his friends. “Did he realize we were talking about him? That’s terrible! I don’t want to be on the freak’s radar.”

Sunoo was in a good mood, unlike the others. “He’s looking at Jimin,” he said with a grin. “Fucking Min Yoongi is staring at fucking Park Jimin.”

Jimin was lucky he didn’t catch fire at that moment. Because just as they said, Min Yoongi looked up, glanced at Jimin for just a second, then pushed his glasses back down his nose and buried himself in the notes in front of him again. That split-second glance was enough to make Jimin’s knees tremble. He looked at him as if he could see right through him. As if he had looked at Jimin and seen the dreams echoing in the hidden corners of his mind.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jimin said as he fished in his pockets for a lighter to light the cigarette he had clamped between his lips.

“You’re going to deny that he looked at you.”

“It didn’t even last a second.”

“Aww, so you counted the seconds. That’s so sweet.”

Jimin was about to answer him when a hand reached out and lit the cigarette dangling between his lips with a zippo lighter.

“Gentlemen,” Kim Namjoon spoke. “And ladies,” he continued when he noticed Sana. “I look forward to seeing you all at my party on Friday.”

“Party?” Sana straightened his posture and gave Namjoon a sweet look from under his eyelashes. “I thought you didn’t organize parties anymore.”

“I was.” Namjoon shrugged. “A friend of mine is in town and I want to throw a party for him. Have you heard about J-Hope? He signed a record deal and we should definitely celebrate.”

“Fuck you!” Mingi almost jumped out of his seat. “J-Hope is your friend?”

“My best friend. Yeah, what was I saying, I’d love to see you all there.” He turned to look at Jimin. “Especially you.”

As Namjoon walked away from them, Sunoo threw himself into Jimin’s embrace, causing the ash from the cigarette to spill all over them as he hugged his friend tightly, silently watching what was happening. “We’re going to the party,” he said, almost screaming. “And you’re getting Kim Namjoon into bed!”

*** 

Namjoon’s family’s estate was a huge four-story villa built on a massive plot of land, and it was extremely noisy. Music blared from every corner, loud laughter and the screams of familiar faces going wild echoed in Jimin’s mind. As he watched people dancing in the center of the hall, he thought he didn’t want to be here. And he wouldn’t have been, if Sunoo hadn’t been so insistent. He would have buried himself in the soft cushions of the couch in front of the TV and watched the new season of his favorite show while wrapped in a blanket.

When he realized he couldn’t take the noise any longer, he pushed his way through the crowd and made his way to the porch. Aside from the crowds of people, the smell of alcohol and sweat made him dizzy and nauseous. He definitely needed some fresh air.

“Oh God…” he muttered to himself as the music faded and he numbly walked towards the pool at the back of the house. He had crazy plans to take a nap on one of the sun loungers. He wanted to relax a bit while his friends were having fun inside, to unwind from the week.

But when he reached the edge of the huge pool illuminated by LED lights, he saw him.

Min Yoongi.

His steps stopped. Of course he hadn’t expected to see Yoongi here. Jimin watched him for a while as Yoongi sat quietly on the edge of the sun lounger, watching the pool in the dim light falling on his shoulders. He thought about turning around and leaving, letting him be alone, but his legs wouldn’t move. When he realized he didn’t want to go, he got angry with himself, as he often did. Perhaps it was the first time he had ever felt such a strong desire to talk to someone. So, before he had a chance to give up, he softly walked over to Yoongi. As he approached the edge of the pool, Yoongi turned his head slightly towards him and their eyes met. It was an awkward moment when they looked at each other without saying anything.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Jimin said in a voice that sounded foreign even to him. Considering that he and Yoongi had never spoken to each other even once before, his demeanor was more than friendly.

“I ran away from the crowd.” Yoongi grimaced at the house behind them. “Too noisy.”

Without asking permission to sit down, Jimin dropped his tired body onto the empty chaise lounge next to Yoongi. “That’s what house parties are like,” he said. “You wouldn’t know since you never come.” He pulled his knees to his stomach and wrapped his arms around himself. “So, to what do we owe your presence here?”

Yoongi waited a moment before answering. It was strange that Jimin was acting as casual as if they had been friends for forty years, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Jimin was the kind of person who could get along with anyone. “Namjoon,” he said with exasperation in his voice. “He said he wouldn’t talk to me again if I didn’t come.”

“Are you friends with Kim Namjoon?” Jimin’s eyebrows rose in interest. “I’ve never seen you two together.”

“He’s my cousin.”

When Yoongi lifted the beer bottle to his mouth, which Jimin had just noticed, and took a cool sip, Jimin had to swallow at the same time, and for that he cursed him in his mind.

“Kim Namjoon is your cousin?” he asked, his mind already on the amber droplet that trickled from the corner of Yoongi’s lip to his chin.

“Unfortunately.”

“Wow.”

“Wow?”

“The student representative is your cousin and no one knows about it.”

“They don’t need to know.”

“Anybody else would have put it in everyone’s face.”

“I don’t think I’m like that.” Yoongi couldn’t help but grimace once more. He liked the university, but not the people in it. They were too simple and stupid for him.

“Ah,” Jimin said playfully. “You’re judging us.”

“What do you mean us?”

“Us.” He just shrugged. Yoongi couldn’t understand why Park Jimin was even chatting with him, but he seemed quite comfortable doing so.

“I don’t judge anyone.”

“Now you’re lying.” Jimin reached over and took the beer bottle from Yoongi’s hand and poured it over his head, trying not to think too much about the fact that it had just touched Yoongi’s lips. It only took a few seconds for Jimin to see the bottom of the bottle, which Yoongi had chosen to sip slowly. “Umm, it tastes good.”

And Yoongi stared at him in amazement. Sharing a bottle of beer with Park Jimin was not in his plans for today.

“Okay.” He rested his hands on his knees and prepared to get up. “I’ll leave you alone.”

They had talked enough, hadn’t they? At least it was for Yoongi. After all, now that Jimin was here, the party inside the house could move to the poolside at any moment, and Yoongi certainly didn’t want to be in such an environment, to be seen with Park Jimin, and to be subjected to strange looks.

But that’s not what happened.

When a tiny hand, an extremely tiny hand, grabbed his wrist, Yoongi was simply stunned. He lowered his head and looked first at the ringed fingers gripping his wrist and then at Jimin, who was watching him with a faint look. Since Yoongi was standing, Jimin looked as if he was kneeling in front of him from where he was sitting, and his slightly flushed cheeks, full lips, and damp hair sticking to his forehead were obscene.

“I don’t remember asking you to leave,” Jimin said. His voice was soft, but Yoongi heard the harmonious timbre in it. He heard it and shuddered. Was he misunderstanding? He couldn’t be running his thumb over Yoongi’s soft skin as he continued to hold his wrist, could he? This swooning gaze and inviting tone couldn’t be for Yoongi.

Why not, his inner voice challenged him. But Yoongi immediately reminded himself that this was Park Jimin. Handsome, charming, extremely popular Park Jimin. He would have nothing to do with someone like Yoongi. Yoongi had seen the kind of guys Jimin hung out with — and none of them were like him.

But aside from his own excuses, when Jimin opened his mouth, he said,

“Do you like girls or boys? Or both?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer me.”

“I don’t want to answer.”

“I didn’t ask how many centimeters! Do you like boys or girls?” Jimin was persistent. “Just answer me,” he said after running his tongue over his lower lip, which was almost the same color as the red band T-shirt he was wearing. “Answer me so I know if I’m being wooed for nothing.”

Yoongi stopped and scrutinized him once more. He absorbed all the signals, warnings, messages and everything else.

“Men,” he said after a few seconds without hesitation. “Only men.”

Jimin let go of his wrist, then stood up and stood right in front of him. They were inches apart and the blonde’s fingers were on the hem of the gray T-shirt Yoongi wore under his lumberjack shirt. “See? It’s not hard to answer at all. You just had to open your mouth and use your tongue.” He took a step closer to Yoongi and his warm breath was in his ear. He was whispering. “I was wondering, does your tongue have other tricks?”

Jimin chuckled sweetly when Yoongi pulled back as if he had touched fire, but he had no intention of moving away from him. Soon he was snuggled up to him again, his fingertips this time running over Yoongi’s broad chest as he said,

“Why don’t you wear glasses?”

“I love your glasses, your bone-rimmed black glasses, your white skin, your soft black hair…”

Their eyes met. At that moment, Yoongi felt very hunted. Yes, he had fallen into the hunter’s net. Park Jimin had caught him by the collar.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Yoongi said as his thick, bony fingers wrapped around Jimin’s delicate wrists and pushed him away. “I don’t have time for this.”

Jimin’s brow furrowed as a look of incomprehension came into his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you and your friends.” Yoongi let his breath out loud. “You were sitting in the garden that day, giggling and staring at me. If this is part of some stupid game, you should know that—”

Jimin rolled his eyes so hard that Yoongi had to shut up.

“You idiot!” he said, almost scolding him. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

Yoongi faltered. Jimin was hard to understand. It was really, really hard to understand why he said what he said or did what he did. What exactly was going on here?

“I—”

“You what?” Jimin opened his eyes wide and shook his head slightly. “I’ve been courting you for minutes, flirting with you and giving you signals that even an idiot would understand. You may have a 3.96 GPA but you’re an idiot, okay?”

“You’re flirting with me?”

“Of course!” Jimin almost shouted. “If you’re at a stupid house party and someone comes up to you and tells you how attractive you look with your stupid glasses, you should know that they want to fuck you. Here’s a life lesson for you. I’m sure it’s not written in some thick book you’ve never looked up from.”

He walked past Yoongi. He walked briskly away from him, toward the house where the loud music continued to blare. In mere seconds he would reach the porch, walk through the door and blend in with the crowd, leaving Yoongi behind.

Yoongi never thought he had a chance, but he did.

Shit! He really did!

“My house is so close to here!” It was the first thing out of his mouth, but luckily it was enough to stop Jimin. “Do you want to go?”

He let his breath out loud. His heart was beating in a frantic rhythm inside his ribcage and his stomach was tightening. He continued to watch Jimin’s back as he rubbed his sweaty palms over his dark jeans. Yoongi wasn’t as asocial, withdrawn or cowardly as they thought. He had invited a few people to his house before, but none of them were Park Jimin. Jimin was first on the list of names Yoongi wouldn’t dare ask.

At least until a few minutes ago.

Jimin turned softly towards him. He had a beautiful smile on his beautiful face.

“Now we are speaking the same language.”

***

Jimin didn’t know exactly what to expect, but Yoongi’s house was ordinary. He lived in one of the luxury complexes in the city center, in an apartment that was too big for a student. Still, he didn’t have a lot of stuff. All the furniture was necessities and very simple.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Jimin stopped looking around and turned to Yoongi. His biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest, straining against the thin fabric of the smoky shirt he was wearing.

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, plopping himself down on the small leather couch, which looked quite comfortable. “The guys who invite me over usually try to put their hand down my pants as soon as they walk in the door.”

Yoongi tilted his head slightly to the side and studied the expression of the pretty boy watching him sleepily from his seat. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was having fun with him.

“You mustn’t think I’m being polite,” Yoongi said. “I don’t want to mislead you.”

Jimin’s eyes sparkled even more. “I knew you had a gem hidden inside you.”

“How do you know I did?”

“No one thinks you’re anything like the person I found out you were tonight.”

“No one does.” Yoongi sighed. “They have labels they’re dying to put on, but they don’t really think about them.”

“You’re not going to turn this into some kind of ‘Breakfast Club’ drama, are you?”

Yoongi’s lips curled up into a smile so bright it made Jimin curse himself.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Yoongi asked. His voice was full of innuendo.

“Because you let me,” Jimin said, continuing his game.

Seconds later they were both laughing out loud.

“Stop acting like we’re in some stupid teen movie.” Jimin sat up slightly and looked at Yoongi intently. “I’m not really that person who’s tired of being popular and just looking for true love, nor are you that outcast boy with a dramatic past or a pathetic life.” He pointed his finger at Yoongi. “I like being popular and you’re obviously a rich snob. We’re not even close.”

“I never said that.” Yoongi put his hands in his pants pockets and leaned his back against the wall behind him. He didn’t know why he hadn’t gone over to Jimin, but it had been so nice to watch him. “I like that you’re popular,” he said as he continued to stare intently at Jimin. “That people talk about you and you don’t give a shit. And your sassy attitude, and your confidence, and the fact that you’re such a player.” He tilted his head to the side. “How about spoiling me?”

“Fuck you.”

“What?” Yoongi laughed. “What? I’m serious.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“That’s not what I want to do with you.”

“Fuck you!” Jimin grabbed one of the cushions on the couch and threw it at Yoongi, but luckily it didn’t hit him.

“What happened now?”

“It’s a good thing you weren’t a talkative person at school.” Jimin sighed loudly. His cheeks were flushed and the roots of his hair were damp. “Every time you open your mouth, you say things that make me want to spread my legs.” He nodded his head quickly. “Yeah, good thing you say so little.”

Yoongi was sure Jimin didn’t realize what he was saying. If he did, he would know how much it affected Yoongi and maybe he wouldn’t torment him.

Or maybe he would.

“Call me then.” Yoongi didn’t move. “I’m here, I’m watching you, spread your legs for me.”

The temperature suddenly rose. Jimin felt like smiling for a moment, but his lips only flickered and didn’t curl.

“Now we’re really, really speaking the same language.”

“You like flirting,” Yoongi said. “You like teasing and getting a response.”

“Don’t you?”

“Not really. I’m not a talkative person and considering the number of people who approach me, well, I’m not much of a flirt.”

Jimin did not respond in any way. He stood watching Yoongi, trying to decide what to think. Yoongi wasn’t very confident. He didn’t easily believe that Jimin could really care about him, but on the other hand, he wasn’t desperate for people’s attention. Unlike Jimin, he was doing quite well on his own. That’s what Jimin couldn’t do. Neither solitude nor silence was for him. He liked the noise and the commotion and being around people.

“I understand,” Jimin said. “You must like being alone.”

“Not all the time. There are some evenings when I want someone with me.”

“Is this one of those evenings?”

“This is one of those evenings.”

Jimin took a sharp breath. “Will you take me to your room?”

“If you want to.”

“I do. Are you always such a gentleman?” He tilted his head to the side. His slender shoulders rose as he rested his palms on the sofa.

“I try to be.”

He pushed his back away from the wall he was leaning against. With footsteps that quickened Jimin’s heartbeat, he moved toward him and held out his hand. Without waiting, Jimin wrapped his fingers around his and let him lead him to his room.

Yoongi’s bedroom was warmer and more intimate than the rest of the house. His personal belongings were everywhere, and Jimin could vaguely smell the fresh scent Yoongi had worn earlier that night.

“Okay.” Jimin’s gaze traveled to the double bed against the wall opposite him. It looked more than comfortable. One of the most annoying things about still being a student was trying to function in the squeaky single beds in cramped student houses. Yoongi’s bed was almost inviting. He wanted to lean back against the dot-patterned sheets and let out a moan as Yoongi’s weight pressed down on him.

He turned to look at Yoongi and without a moment’s hesitation, wrapped his arms around his neck and ran his fingertips along the nape of it. When he pressed his lips to Yoongi’s, they both gasped. First the lower lip, then the upper, and then both lips at once—Jimin opened the mouth of the quiet and timid boy who responded to his kiss with the same fervor, caressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Yoongi’s moan was sweet. It filled Jimin’s ears and made him harden.

With a smack, Jimin pulled back and looked at Yoongi’s face. No matter how good it felt to have big hands on his back and thighs, Yoongi’s expression was such that he didn’t wait and kissed him again. Neither of them was slow or cautious anymore. They were kissing each other like they were starving. Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s thigh with one hand and squeezed it to the point of bruising, while the other wrapped around the nape of his neck, holding him tightly and running his tongue over every corner of his mouth.

This is it, Jimin thought. This is what he had dreamed of all the two years he had watched Min Yoongi from afar. This was exactly how he had imagined kissing him. This was exactly how the ‘nerd’ that people whispered about, said was a freak, or couldn’t deny was good-looking even if he was odd—should kiss him. He should hold him tight and taste him with his tongue as he gasped for breath.

“Let’s go to bed.” That was the first thing Yoongi said when he could barely pull away from Jimin’s lips. He whispered over his wet lips, red from being kissed, as he cupped his cheeks.

“Okay.” Yoongi reached over and flipped the light switch and tried to pull Jimin into bed with him as the room went dark, but Jimin didn’t move.

“What are you doing?” he asked Yoongi just before turning the light back on.

Yoongi’s brow furrowed. “Doing what what?”

“Why are you turning off the lamp?”

“Because I want to.”

He turned the lights out again and Jimin turned them back on in an aggressive manner.

“Yoongi, are you out of your mind?”

“It’s dim enough in here.” Jimin continued to stare at him with a dull expression. “I think the light from the street lamps is enough.”

“We’re on the eighth floor.”

“It’s not that dark.”

“It’s that dark.”

“We’ll turn on the hallway light.”

“Yeah, sure, when you can turn on the room light.”

“You’re exaggerating right now.” Yoongi turned off the lamp again.

“You’re the one exaggerating.” And Jimin turned it back on.

“I don’t want to undress under the light,” Yoongi said after about a minute of them both looking at each other with their arms crossed over their chests. “Okay?”

“Why not?” Jimin’s curious gaze traveled over Yoongi’s torso. He couldn’t wait to get him out of his shirt and T-shirt. “I’m sure you look pretty good.”

Yoongi sighed. “I have problems with being naked.”

“I don’t. I want to see you naked.”

“I do. I don’t want you to see me naked.”

They stared at each other. It was something Jimin would never, ever understand. Not only did he have no problem with being naked, he liked being naked. From time to time.

“Then you don’t want to see me naked either,” he said, raising one eyebrow softly. “Is that so?”

“Well—” Yoongi’s gaze traveled softly over Jimin. He was dying to see him naked. He could even sit him in a corner and watch him for a long time before he touched him. “I want to,” he said panicked. “I—well—yes, I certainly do.”

“Then the light will stay on.”

“But—”

“You can’t see me in the dark.”

“That’s right.” Jimin’s curiosity about how Yoongi looked without clothes overpowered his embarrassment. Still, he didn’t hesitate to play his last trump card. “But we’ll be under the covers,” he said excitedly. “Okay? Let’s do it under the covers.”

“Fine,” Jimin said as he rolled his eyes, “Let’s do it under the covers.”

Moments later they were both naked, examining each other with curious eyes for a long time, liking what they saw, kissing and smooching and getting under the covers just as Yoongi had said. Jimin continued to sit on Yoongi’s stomach, leaving a few tiny kisses and bites on his neck, making him moan. Yoongi’s hands roamed the curves of his back and waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoongi whispered with Jimin’s lips on his chin. At the same time, he wanted to grab him and kiss him again.

But Jimin had other plans.

“I am,” he said as he offered Yoongi a bright smile and slid down, disappearing under the covers.

“Jimin,” Yoongi’s voice was full of excitement. “What are you doing?”

It didn’t take long for Jimin to answer, and when he did, Yoongi dropped his head—previously raised in the hope of seeing Jimin—back onto the pillow and gripped the comforter tightly around them.

“Fuck! So good!”

He thought it was all a dream as his cock slid over the rough surface of Jimin’s tongue in his warm mouth and touched his throat. Only Park Jimin could feel this good, and only in his dreams could someone like Yoongi take him to bed.

At least that’s what Yoongi had convinced himself.

He couldn’t help but raise his hips as Jimin’s nose brushed his crotch and his hot breath caressed his skin, and Jimin dug his nails into Yoongi’s upper thighs, making a sound like he was suffocating under the covers. With each movement the duvet rippled, Yoongi was getting closer to coming, but Jimin was in no hurry. After parting his mouth with a smacking sound, he crawled out from under the covers and climbed on top of Yoongi again, this time sitting on his sensitive cock, which was not yet fully relaxed.

“I like the taste,” he told Yoongi in the most seductive voice Yoongi had ever heard. “And I never understood why you didn’t want me to see you, because anyone else would have been, well, quite proud.”

Yoongi gripped his hips as they rubbed softly against him and planted a wet kiss on Jimin’s Adam’s apple as he helped him move.

“Are you always this dirty?” he asked.

“Only for guys with dicks this big.”

“I think I could get used to your frankness.”

“I hope you do.” Jimin tried to catch his breath, resting his palms against Yoongi’s broad chest as he continued to rub against him. “I’d like there to be other times when I try to fuck you under the covers with the lights on.” He choked out a laugh as he gasped. “You really are incredible.”

“You don’t sound like you’re complaining.” Jimin let out a tiny scream as Yoongi grabbed him and flipped him onto his back in one fluid movement. But in mere seconds he had his legs spread wide and Yoongi between them. They started kissing as their cocks rubbed and Jimin couldn’t help but moan again and again.

“Yoongi,”

Hearing Jimin’s name spill from his lips like a prayer made Yoongi moan. He didn’t want to act rashly, but he wanted to get inside Jimin as soon as possible, to press his mouth to his as he sank into his warmth and breathe his breath as his own. He was even crazy about the look in his eyes at that very moment. He kissed Jimin for a long time. His hands roamed over his shoulder blades and arms. His fingertips caressed his budding nipples like rosebuds, loving the softness of his belly. As he kissed him, he made sure that not a single place was left untouched by his hands. As he sucked his bottom lip like candy, Jimin’s warm palms traveled around his waist and reached for his buttocks, giving them a tiny smack that made Yoongi laugh.

“I was sure you were a good kisser,” Jimin said as he lay watching him with dreamy eyes. His blond hair was sprawled across Yoongi’s pillow, a lovely sight to complement his disheveled expression. His wet and battered lips curved into a heartwarming smile.

Yoongi kissed him again after cupping his chin with two fingers. His kiss was soft and warm. It made Jimin shiver inside. He wasn’t used to being kissed so long and so carefully. Usually they were rushed, but Yoongi was careful. He didn’t stop caring for Jimin, even though his hard, hot cock leaning between his legs showed that he was in a difficult position.

“Do you like this position?” Jimin whispered against the sensitive skin under Yoongi’s ear. “Hmm? I can stand on my knees if you like.”

For a moment, Yoongi imagined Jimin here, on his bed, on his hands and knees, offering his hips to him. The way he curved his waist at an angle, the way he looked at him as he rested his cheek against the sheet… It was beautiful and maddening to imagine, but Yoongi loved their position.

“I want to look at your face,” he said hoarsely. “I want to look into your eyes and see everything.”

Jimin wanted that too. Unlike other times, he wanted to take it slow and watch Yoongi savor it. He ran his fingers through the black tufts that fell over his face and looked at Yoongi intently. He had a beautiful face. He was exactly Jimin’s type, as Sunoo had declared. He might even look cute with the tiny freckles on his white skin, but there was something in his small, squinty eyes that made him look mysterious and daring.

And Jimin loved that.

Yoongi reached over to the nightstand beside the bed, opened the first drawer, and pulled out a bottle of lubricant along with a condom packet. When he returned to his original position, he rose to his knees. The comforter, which had been so important until a moment ago, was now gathered at their feet. They were both exposed and naked.

“I think you like it,” Yoongi said, realizing that Jimin was watching him intently. The blonde’s gaze was firmly on his cock, and he seemed quite pleased.

“Too bad,” Jimin said.

“What’s a pity?”

“That we haven’t done this already.”

Yoongi uncapped the lube and poured the lavender-scented liquid onto his fingers and then gently into Jimin.

“It’s cold,” Jimin said, startled, but instead of pulling back, he pressed his hips against Yoongi’s hand and savored the bony fingers working to widen his entrance. “Ummm,” he gripped the sheet with one hand and held onto Yoongi’s wrist with the other. “A little faster.”

“Take your time,” Yoongi said calmly.

“We’ve wasted enough time.”

That made Yoongi laugh. “You could’ve gotten me into bed sooner. It’s your fault.”

“I didn’t know you liked men.”

Yoongi twisted his fingers, and Jimin squirmed, digging his nails into Yoongi’s wrist as he gasped. He looked like he’d already lost it. The more Yoongi stroked his walls and widened him with scissor movements, the more Jimin blushed and sweated.

“Didn’t you see the way I looked at you?” Yoongi asked as he leaned over, his eyes boring into Jimin’s as he quickened the movement of his fingers. “I was watching you from time to time.”

“I saw—” Jimin threw his head back because Yoongi had generously increased the number of fingers to three. “Oh, God, stop playing with me and get inside me.”

“Considering your kind compliments, I should prepare you well.”

“I’m sure I can cope.”

As much as Yoongi didn’t want to rush things, he was in as much trouble as Jimin. His cock was already leaking, the arousal dripping down onto Jimin’s smooth thighs. Was it too perverse a thought to want to cover him completely in his own desire?

He pulled his fingers out of Jimin, took the lubricant again, and pressed the mouth of the bottle against the hole that was now slick and ready. He squeezed just enough for the cold liquid to seep out and soak the sheets. Jimin squirmed, making a plaintive sound at the coolness he felt inside.

It was all too much. Too much.

Yoongi tossed the bottle aside and reached for the condom. He tore the wrapper off with his teeth under Jimin’s hungry gaze and skillfully slipped it onto himself in one swift motion. He didn’t hesitate when Jimin raised his arms and beckoned him forward.

He leaned over him, resting his hands on the bed on either side of Jimin’s head, and now they were face to face.

“Hi,” he whispered against Jimin’s lips. He pressed their lips together, taking his time, and kissed him deeply as Jimin’s hands moved between his shoulders and neck. Jimin lifted his hips and began to grind softly against Yoongi, impatient and aching for more.

Yoongi left tiny kisses on Jimin’s upper and lower lip and then pulled back. He took one of the pillows from the head of the bed and said, “Get your ass up,” placing it gently under Jimin’s lower back to help tilt his hips upward.

When he reached for Jimin’s lips again, he positioned himself and slowly pushed his hips forward.

Jimin accepted him easily. He was open enough, wet enough. Still, he couldn’t suppress the moan that came from the back of his throat, and Yoongi clutched his shoulders tightly, ecstatic at the sound. The fullness Jimin felt was overwhelming. Yoongi’s name was the only thing echoing in his mind as the burning sensation spread down his spine, setting fire to every nerve.

Soon, only his name would fall from his lips.

Yoongi began to move back and forth in a slow rhythm. He was trying to give Jimin time to adjust, but Jimin was in too much of a hurry. He began to move his hips as he tugged on Yoongi’s hair, meeting each thrust with his own. He gave him the loudest moan of the night when Yoongi pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back in, crushing his walls and hitting his prostate.

“Yoongi,” he cried, digging his nails into his shoulders as his back arched off the bed. “There— that exact spot—”

It was so easy for Yoongi to unravel him. Every kiss, every touch, every stroke… Jimin was melting like foam under his hands. He had wanted to make love to him, had fantasized about it in every filthy corner of his mind, but nothing compared to this. Yoongi knew exactly what to do, and Jimin had no trouble keeping up. He spread his legs wider and pulled Yoongi completely on top of him. All of Yoongi’s weight was on him now, and Jimin loved it—being pinned, being filled, being wanted so deeply.

“You smell wonderful,” Yoongi whispered, dragging his mouth along Jimin’s neck and leaving kisses on his skin. He lingered under his ear, inhaling his scent and kissing his cheek. He gripped Jimin’s hair as he left blooming bruises on his neck. With his free hand, he cupped Jimin’s ass, pulling him closer, deeper.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoongi murmured. “You’re so, so beautiful, Jimin-ah.”

Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s hands and held them in his palms, pressing their joined hands to the bed, immobilizing him completely. Yoongi was in full control now. He made a muffled sound as he leaned his entire weight onto Jimin, then pressed his lips to his and opened his mouth with his tongue. The blonde was completely ecstatic. He squirmed as if he could get rid of Yoongi, moaning little by little, his sounds fading into Yoongi’s mouth.

“You like that, don’t you?” Yoongi pulled his cock back to the head and, with one sudden thrust, buried himself inside again. “You like it like this?”

Jimin’s toes curled as he let out a high-pitched scream. He loved it—he loved it—but he didn’t feel strong enough to speak. Both their chests were rising and falling violently. Yoongi repeated the same motion a few more times, then reached between them, wrapped his hand around Jimin’s cock, and started stroking.

And then they both came.

At the same time.

Their voices overlapped, raw and unfiltered, echoing off the walls of the room like thunderclaps. Yoongi dropped his weight onto Jimin. The body beneath him trembled. He knew Jimin needed time to fully relax as his walls continued to squeeze and release around Yoongi. Fortunately, Jimin hugged him tightly and whispered, “I’m so tired,” as he ran his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. “Let’s get some sleep.”

So, still inside him, Yoongi closed his eyes and fell asleep in the warmth of Jimin’s skin.

—

The sun was about to rise when Jimin found himself on the kitchen counter, one leg wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, getting fucked like never before. They had forgotten about the sandwiches they had made to satisfy their hunger after a very active night and suddenly found themselves trying to devour each other instead.

“Oh, God!” Jimin’s head fell back, and he hugged Yoongi’s shoulders tighter. He was about to add to the marks he had left on his back and arms. “Yoongi,” he moaned. “God, Yoongi, you feel so good—so good.”

And indeed it did. Even in the yellow light of the stove hood, with the edge of the counter biting into his ass, all he could think about was how good Yoongi was at this and how good it felt.

“I love you.” Yoongi held the leg wrapped around his waist tightly with one hand while he leaned the other against the counter for support. “I love being inside you. You’re so—so good.” He kissed Jimin’s lips and the corner of his mouth. “You’re so warm. You’re so, so hot, Jimin-ah.”

He tried to kiss him again, but the rhythm he was moving to didn’t allow it. His hips moved in a steady rhythm that drove Jimin wild, his cock grazing all the right spots inside. It was their second round, but Jimin was as sensitive as if he had never been touched before.

“I’m so close,” he whispered in Yoongi’s ear. Then he wrapped his arms around his neck, pressed his wet mouth to his chin, and came violently, his knees trembling.

Soon Yoongi followed, pulling out just enough to release between their stomachs, groaning deeply.

A few minutes passed before their breathing settled, and Yoongi pulled Jimin onto his lap and murmured, “Okay. We’d better take a shower first.”

“Uh-huh.” Jimin rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “Yoongi,” he said sleepily. “Did you know you have a great cock?” He yawned, utterly exhausted. “You definitely have a great cock.” He brushed his lips against Yoongi’s bare skin and chirped, “Best dick ever!” in a sing-song voice.

“Jimin,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he shook his head, his heart warm and full, “What am I going to do with you?”

***

After all the classes he had taken on Monday, Yoongi sat down at the first table he found in the garden of the engineering faculty and tried to catch his breath. His next class was in two hours and he planned to do some studying until then. But he had just opened his backpack when a shadow fell over him.

“Min Yoongi?” said the short boy who owned the shadow. “Are you Min Yoongi?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Great! You have a delivery.” He took a white box out of the large basket of his bicycle, which Yoongi had just noticed, handed it to him, and rode away, leaving him with way too many questions.

Yoongi wasn’t expecting any delivery, and since it had been months since his birthday, his parents couldn’t have sent anything. With a puzzled look, he opened the lid of the box—

—then slammed it shut again in pure panic.

He hadn’t expected to receive a box of donuts with the words “best dick ever” spelled out in pink frosting on a random Monday, in the garden of the engineering faculty, in front of other human beings .

He never, ever expected it.

He looked around in alarm. What if someone saw?

But after a few seconds of scanning the courtyard, his eyes found him.

Park Jimin.

He was sitting on one of the benches in the corner of the garden, grinning like a devil. Yoongi froze when Jimin pursed his lips and blew him a kiss. Right there. In public. With people all around.

Yoongi just stood there. He was afraid to move or even gesture because all eyes were now searching to see who Jimin’s ridiculous affection was aimed at.

Fortunately, Jimin’s enthusiasm didn’t last long.

When he didn’t get a reaction, his smile dropped immediately—and if Yoongi wasn’t mistaken, he even looked a little pissed. With a swift movement, Jimin got up from the bench and walked straight to Yoongi’s table.

That was Yoongi’s cue.

He slung his bag over his shoulder, hugged the donut box like it was state property, and began walking away as fast as he could—but he had barely taken a step when Jimin caught up and grabbed the free strap of his backpack.

“Don’t tell me you’re running away from me.”

“I’m—” Yoongi tugged back gently, which only seemed to anger Jimin more.

“You’re literally running away!” His voice was loud enough that several students looked up in surprise.

“I’m not running. I’m—”

“You are basically sprinting away from me!” Jimin crossed his arms over his chest. “And I bought you such a sweet gift.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi muttered, glancing at the box in his hands. “You really didn’t have to—”

“Ugh! Stop talking like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like you didn’t make me unable to walk on Friday night!”

“Jimin!” Yoongi nearly dropped the box as he reached to cover his mouth. “Please don’t yell!”

But Jimin stepped back, full drama mode. “Why? Are you ashamed of me? Don’t want people to know you’re with me ?”

“It’s not that—”

“Then what?!” Jimin practically shouted. “Because I swear to God, Yoongi, if you try to ghost me after the way you ruined me—”

“I thought maybe… maybe you didn’t want it to be known you were with me.” Yoongi’s voice cracked at the end. He looked down, clutching the box tighter. “It felt like a one-night thing to you. Like something we weren’t supposed to talk about.”

Jimin’s expression softened instantly.

How could Yoongi think that?

The mere idea of Yoongi ignoring him in public made Jimin’s chest burn like hellfire.

“Yoongi,” he said, his voice now calm, soft. “I want to keep seeing you. I want to take you on a date. And then I want you to take me on a date. I want you to come to my house and warm my bed and eat whatever I burn trying to make breakfast and kiss me good morning and kiss me good night and— I don’t know! Let’s just do whatever people do when they actually want to be in a relationship.”

For a second, Yoongi thought he had stopped breathing. His heart felt too big for his chest.

“What?” he whispered.

“You heard me,” Jimin said, arms still crossed, cheeks red. “I want to date you.”

“You know what people will say, right?”

“I don’t care what they’ll say just because two boys who like each other hang out.”

“It’s not like—” Yoongi stopped. His gaze softened. “Do you… like me?”

“Don’t you like me?”

“Everyone likes you.”

“I’m not asking about everyone, dumbass. Oh my God—you’re making me angry !”

Yoongi honestly thought he was dreaming. Jimin couldn’t really be standing in front of him, confessing he liked him. He couldn’t. But the blush on Jimin’s cheeks said otherwise. The flutter of his lashes, the grip on his sleeve, the way he refused to look him in the eyes…

He was real .

Wearing a blue floral shirt and perfectly styled blond hair, he was heartbreakingly adorable.

“I think I feel a little more than attracted,” Yoongi said without hesitation. “Maybe a lot more.”

Jimin lit up like a bonfire. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Then take me to dinner.”

“Now?”

“Now. I checked your class schedule. You’re free.”

Of course Yoongi would take him. He would’ve taken him anywhere.

But he also knew people were staring. The whispers had already begun.

“People are talking about us,” he muttered. “Right now, they’re watching.”

Jimin shrugged, unconcerned. “Let them talk. In a few days, they’ll be kicking themselves that I got you first.”

“Jimin-ah…” Yoongi smiled despite himself, cheeks flushed. His heart was beating like a drum. “You’re serious.”

“Very serious.”

Unable to hold back anymore, Jimin stepped forward, lifted Yoongi’s chin with two fingers, and pressed a warm, wet kiss to his lips.

Gasps rose from nearby tables. Someone dropped their iced coffee. A chair screeched across the pavement.

Jimin didn’t give a single damn.

He leaned back with a smug smile and said, “Come on. Let’s go to dinner.”

Yoongi nodded slowly. “Sure… Let’s go.”

Their hands found each other—fingers entwined like it was the easiest thing in the world. And as they walked toward the cafeteria, people stared, whispered, pointed.

But they didn’t care.

They only looked at each other.

And smiled.

***