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“Again.”Jimin winds back, swings harder. Wind whips at his sleeves with the swiftness of the blow. His next breath comes out a huff, cools the sweat beading on his upper lip.“Again.”The next hit collides with a dull thud. His fingers throb with how hard he’s gripping the handle. Everything is stiff now; his arms feel heavy and tired, overused. He wants to quit now more than ever. He won’t.“Again. Are you even trying?”The axe drops from Jimin’s hands, kicking up a puff of dust that settles slowly, drifting to coat the leather of his boots. “Yes.” He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, smearing streaks of dirt down his face. Obviously , he wants to say. “You know I’m always trying.”Master Im is impassive. “I can’t tell.” He reaches for the axe at Jimin’s side and lifts it over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. Jimin scowls as he turns his back to add to the growing pile of weapons Jimin has been deemed unfit to use.“We’ll have to try that again when you get a bit stronger.”“I’m plenty strong. I just haven’t learned the proper technique yet.”Master Im glances over his shoulder. His eyebrows are thick and greying, and he looks more wolfish than ever in his old age. “And what do you think you’ve been learning from me?” he rumbles. The sound seems to come from deep in his chest, and his brow furrows deeper, until his eyes threaten to disappear, and with that Jimin knows he’s managed to annoy him once again. Nothing , Jimin wants to answer. Instead he shuts his mouth.“That’s the problem with you boys.” Master Im leans against the wooden railing and still manages to loom over Jimin, his own personal stormcloud. He scuffs his toe in the dirt and more dust collects on Jimin’s clothes, his shoes. “Don’t know the value of hard work anymore. Want to spend all your time fucking about. I swear this generation gets lazier by the day.” He spits into the dirt. “Only want the pleasure, but none of the pain it takes to get there.” Jimin would like to think he knows plenty about that last part in particular, but it wouldn’t really be decorum to bring that up now. Master Im wouldn’t care anyway, he just loves to hear himself talk.It seems Jimin spends almost all of his time these days listening to old men talk. Meetings, hearings, lectures… family dinners. If he had half the amount of time to train that Im seems to think he does, he’d be an expert swordsman by now.“Hard work is very important sir,” he says with a stiff nod. That’s what he’s supposed to do, be good, obedient for his masters. Even when they’re massive narcissists with an inexplicable, unending nostalgia for wartime.“That it is boy. We’ll make a soldier out of you yet.” Im claps him on the shoulder with his crippled hand, gnarled stumps for his two missing fingers. The last battle he’d fought was twenty five years ago. Get him drunk enough and he still loved to tell the story. Jimin thinks the half of his story that isn’t utter horseshit is at best underwhelming. He forces half a grin.“I hope so.”♔♔♔Jimin’s footsteps are too loud in the vast emptiness of the halls. It’s always like this, no matter how lightly he treads, there’s the soft scuffle of leather on stone, the rasp of fabric swishing as he moves. There is no such thing as stealth when the palace is like this- dark and silent and eerily vacant. His feet still patter softly on the ground, and he cringes each time his breath comes out too loudly, or his scrape against the of the walls. He knows he doesn’t truly need to try so hard to be subtle― the guards at this hour are just beginning to dose, and Jimin is agile, light on his feet. He may not be silent but he’s quick- hasn’t been spotted by a guard in nigh on three weeks now, a fact which he is supremely proud of. He’s still anxious.He shuffles quickly, quietly past the servants chambers. There are no guards in this wing, no wandering eyes to worry about at this time of night. Only Jimin, alone and hurried, way to the stables before his handmaiden notices he’s gone missing. He’s only been caught like this once, when the crown prince too was wandering the halls one night. Jimin had nearly careened into him in his haste, bowed his head with a murmured apology, and scurried off through the most winding, twisting labyrinth that was the west wing. He’s convinced the prince hadn’t recognized him that night, his face obscured in his robe and the dim candlelight. Seokjin had been to shocked by the abruptness of their collision to demand anything of him― his business, his station, his name― he’d always been a bit too gentle for his own good. Jimin had slipped away easily, like the last fleeting rays of sunlight at dusk.He flits through these very hallways now like a ghost. He could follow this path with his eyes closed― knows precisely which doors creak the lowest and exactly which of the narrow, dusk-ridden passages to slip through. It’s only a few more moments before he reaches the end of the way, and the night air cools the skin at the back of his neck, as he steps out onto the stoop, heart thudding in anticipation.He’s already got a plan worked out in his head for this and it is, if he must say so himself, quite a good plan.See, sneaking around the palace at night is most certainly against the rules. Also a sure-fire way to get hurt if the guards by some poor twist of fate manages to catch him. It’s more that worth it though for this.This, unsurprisingly, is also against the rules. None that have been so explicitly stated, but― context.Jungkook is already waiting for him in the stables, resting against the of his favorite mare, toe tapping impatiently on the straw floor. He doesn’t appear to hear Jimin entering behind him, so Jimin creeps up behind him, places one hand on his shoulder and the other over his mouth.Jungkook lets out a muffled, panicked little yelp before he feels the familiar press of Jimin’s chest against his back and he sags against him.“Christ, don’t do that to me,” he halfheartedly shoves Jimin away from him, then pulls him back in after another second, wraps him up in his strong, soft, warm, gentle arms. Jimin loves those arms. “I though we were getting caught.”“Poor baby,” Jimin pouts, letting Jungkook press his back into the stable door. “Whatever would you do?”“Throw you under the bus,” Jungkook grumbles, but Jimin can tell he doesn’t mean it as he nuzzles into Jimin’s neck. This is not taking the turn he thought it would, but he won’t complain. Yet.“That’s not very chivalrous.” Jimin pouts. He arches his back, signalling for Jungkook to dip his hands lower, get them where Jimin really wants them. Jungkook doesn’t, instead uses both hands to cradle the back of Jimin’s neck and crane his head to look deeply into his eyes.“Haven’t you heard.” he smirks. “Chivalry is dead.”Jimin bites his lip, bites that smug look right off his face. Jungkook takes the abuse easily, gladly. He likes the roughness, the little threat of pain. Jimin loves to give that to him.“It’s too bad,” Jimin says, pulling away. Jungkook whines in the back of his throat. “Now where am I supposed to find someone big and strong to protect me.” He flutters his eyelashes and doesn’t miss the way Jungkook stares hungrily at his lips, only half focused on his words.Jungkook snorts softly. “Like you need it.”“But I’m a poor, tiny, damsel― aren’t we supposed to be helpless?”“Shut up. You know stereotyping turns me off.”Jimin giggles into his fist. “Right, I forgot.” He pushes off the door, forcing Jungkook a few steps back, hands coming to fist in the fabric of his collar. Jungkook swallows visibly. “And here I thought you were a traditionalist.”“I think you’re mistaking me for my father.” Jungkook says, eyes going darker. That’s more like it. Jimin likes to get him worked up first, all restless and bothered before he inevitably breaks him back down.“Mmm.” Jimin bites his lip, fingers twisting, drawing the fabric up tight around Jungkook’s throat. “Kind of sexy, he pulls off the whole balding thing really well.”“You’re disgusting.”Jimin nips at his earlobe and feels Jungkook’s warm hands trail down his back. “I bet your dad wouldn’t call me that. Not if I let him do half the shit I let you do to me.”Jungkook shudders, and it’s not the pleasant kind. “Please. Can you not talk about my father during foreplay.”“Foreplay?” Jimin wretches himself away with a gasp. Jungkook’s eyebrow twitches, could be amusement or annoyance, Jimin’s having too much to decode. “What kind of boy do you think I am?”Jungkook growls, hands snaking around to cup Jimin’s ass roughly, fingers digging in hard, hiking him up and in until his toes are just barely brushing the ground and he’s pressed hard into Jungkook’s very obvious bulge. “A very naughty boy,” he hisses just south of Jimin’s ear, and the back of his neck prickles at the hot rush of air that dusts over his skin. “A little, dirty boy who needs to be punished.”Jimin snorts.“What?” Jungkook lets his grip slacken and Jimin slides back to the floor, still clinging to Jungkook’s collar, like he would ever let go. “Too much?“Eh. Delivery was a little off.” Jungkook clears his throat and tries again. “Gorgeous,” he says, thumbing both sides of Jimin’s jaw with a fragile sort of care. “My favorite boy, always so sweet to me.”It’s much more sappy than sexy― not exactly what Jimin was looking for, but he’s certainly not one to turn down praise. Jungkook looks at him a little quizitively and Jimin can’t help the grin that stretches his cheeks. Cute. “Better.” he says and then waits for Jungkook to try to manhandle him again.Jungkook surprises him instead, dropping to his knees and shoving the fabric of Jimin’s cloak aside to get to the front of his trousers. His fingers work nimbly at the string, well-practiced, and he nuzzles eagerly into Jimin’s thigh once he gets the knot loose, yanking the flaps apart and exposing bare skin.Why wear underwear when they’ll only get in the way later.Jungkook groans when he gets a hand around Jimin, yanking him out of his pants with smooth, un-calloused fingers. Jimin wonders how he manages to keep his hands so soft with the amount of time he spends handling swords. No pun intended. Jungkook presses a single, reverent kiss against the head before he ducks down to suck him in. Jimin lets his head drop back for a moment and his hands find their place, rooted in Jungkook’s hair instinctually. He groans when Jungkook’s nose brushes his groin.“Fuck you’re good at that.”Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, pulls off with a slurp a second later. “Smell so good.” he snuffles wetly into the crease of Jimin’s thigh, tongue teasing over hot skin.“You’re so weird,” Jimin mutters, guiding Jungkook’s mouth back to his cock. In fact, it’s one of his favorite things about Jungkook. He probably knows this.Jungkook teases the slit with the flat of his tongue for a moment and Jimin appreciates the visual more than the sensation. Jungkook is deceptively sweet like this― big, round, watery eyes looking up at him. When Jungkook dips back onto his cock he sucks hard, and Jimin has to make an effort not to groan long and low. It’s almost too easy for him to rile Jimin up. Honestly, Jungkook could probably get him hard just by looking at him with that soft, supple little pout of his. This is a much better option though. Jungkook takes Jimin so deep he’s gagging, throat pulsing frantically around the head of his cock. He pulls off only reluctantly at Jimin’s coaxing.“Easy boy. Don’t make me come in the first five minutes, that’s just gonna be humiliating for all of us.”Jungkook licks the slick from his lips with a lecherous grin. “More for you, probably,” he says. His voice is raspy and deep, has this husky quality it only gets after he’s been choking himself on Jimin’s dick for a while. Jimin flicks his nose lightly and Jungkook crinkles it. Adorable. Jimin tugs him back to his feet and licks the taste of himself out of Jungkook’s mouth.“You gonna fuck me?” he whispers when their lips part. Jungkook chases after them and Jimin stops him with a hand, still fisted in his hair. “Hmm?”Jungkook shudders against him. “Ye- yes.” Jimin releases his grip and lets Jungkook rut against his thigh a little, mouth down Jimin’s throat distractedly while Jimin lets his hands roam over his shoulder blades, stoke down to the small of his back. “Good.” Jungkook pants lightly as he picks up speed. Jimin steps away after another short moment. He grasps Jungkook’s hand and pulls for him to follow.There’s a rickety little ladder that leads up to the loft. It’s mostly just bales of hay, some old, cracked riding gear no one uses anymore, and the pile of blankets they’ve managed to sneak up there over the past few months. Even the stable hands don’t come up often, which makes it almost the perfect stealthy hookup spot. Almost― straw makes Jimin sneeze.Jungkook flops down into their makeshift nest first, starts squirming out of his clothes with an amusing sort of desperation. Jimin watches from his perch on a haybale and laughs when Jungkook gets his pants caught around his ankles.“It’s not gonna be funny when I fuck you with the boots still on.” he pouts. Jimin laughs harder.“It’s gonna be funny regardless-” Jimin teases up the side of Jungkook’s bare thigh with the toe of his leather slipper. Jungkook catches him by the ankle, halting him in his tracks, and squeezes. “-cause of your face.”“I didn’t come here to be insulted.”“Then what did you come here for?”“To just come. ”Jimin shakes free of Jungkook’s hold easily. “Ooh. Nice play there. Six out of 10.” Jungkook huffs impatiently as Jimin resumes his trail up his thigh, dipping closer and closer to the tent in his knickers. “Points off because I helped set it up.”“Shuddup.” Jungkook yanks purposely hard on his ankle and Jimin tumbles face first into the blankets with a yelp. “Take off your dumb clothes.”Jimin sniffs, pushing himself back up indignantly and rubbing at his bright red nose. “These clothes-” he says self-importantly, “Were crafted from the finest linens in this city.” His voice is already beginning to sound nasally from the hay dust. Jungkook snickers and pulls Jimin into his lap. He hikes him up until those dense thighs are splayed wide around his and Jimin is twitching slightly, minutely against him. Judging by the little dimple that forms just barely at the corner of Jungkook’s lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed.Jungkook grasps two handfuls of his backside and gropes him rather self-indulgently. “And this ass was crafted by the gods themselves.” His fingers dig in deep, pulling Jimin’s cheeks apart as best they can through the material of his breeches. “So forgive me if I’d like to see them off.”Jimin shoves him away, gently, because he’s always gentle with Jungkook. “You will,” he says and leans over Jungkook impervious despite the throbbing of his still dampening the front of his pants. “All in good time.”“Would that time be now by any chance?”Jimin bats a hand away from his groin. “Maybe. Brat.” Jungkook whines quietly, rocking up into the cradle of Jimin’s hips. “That’s not going to work this time.” He brushes a long strand of hair out of Jungkook’s eye, blown wide and unblinking. Pools of innocence. Jimin looks away. “You know I always give you what you want. Eventually.” His thumb traces Jungkook’s lower lip and dips inside, just slightly. Jungkook does his best to suck hard before Jimin slips it back out, wipes off the spit on the leg of his trousers.“That is so far from true.”“Is it?”Jungkook hesitates for a moment before he sags. “Maybe. Who cares. Fuck time.”Jimin twists a nipple through the sheer white fabric of his shirt. “Call it that again and see what happens.”Jungkook jerks back and then forward again with a choked laugh. “Sorry,” he says without meaning it. When Jimin goes to release his hold, Jungkook catches his wrist and keeps his hand pressed there. Jimin quirks a brow and Jungkook meets his gaze evenly. More of a challenge than he usually fronts; Jimin is impressed.Still.Jimin shifts up onto his knees and Jungkook releases him almost instantly when he sees his intent. He drags it out longer than necessary as he rolls back onto the blankets with all the grace and poise Jungkook had been lacking and arches up to shimmy his pants down to his ankles. Jungkook’s hands are on him in an instant, tugging them the rest of the way off and flinging them over the edge of the loft. He’s going to be very irate if they end up in one of the horse stalls again.By the time Jimin is totally naked Jungkook is panting and quite possibly drooling a bit. Jimin wipes his chin for him and Jungkook slaps his hand away with a scowl. “Shut up,” he gripes before Jimin gets the chance to open his mouth. “We get it, you’re hot.”“You said it, not me.”Jungkook surges forward, pressing hot into him and forcing him back onto his elbows. “So cocky.” he mutters into the soft skin of Jimin’s neck.Jimin’s response is lost in a gasp when Jungkook prods two slick fingers at his entrance.“So eager.”“It’s been two weeks .”“That’s nothing.” Jimin scoffs even as Jungkook presses in, firm and unrelenting. His knuckles catch once on the rim and Jimin tries not to wince. “I once went two months .”“Didn’t realize this was a competition.”“Obviously. Why would it not be?”“I can’t stand you.” Jungkook nips at a bit of flesh over his rib cage, leaving a faint mark that fades within seconds. His fingers twist deeper.“Kind of a tough sell when you’re drooling to fuck me.”“That wasn’t―” Jungkook mutes himself with a long-suffering sigh. “Shuddup,” he whines for a third time. Jimin smiles to himself. Of all his trysts, Jungkook has always the most fun to rile up. He doesn’t always bend the way Jimin wants him to, but sometimes that’s even better. The unexpected has a way of setting his ablaze like nothing else.Jungkook stuffs his cock in with little warning. The slide isn’t as easy as usual; he’d really skimped out on the prep this time. It had taken months for Jimin to train him like that― to stop being so concerned about Jimin’s wellbeing and just enjoy it for what it was: meaningless, illicit, sometimes mind-blowing sex. Jimin is by no means delicate, he can handle a bit of sting.“Good?” Jungkook mumbles, and the words are jumbled in the space between his ear and his shoulder, where Jungkook likes to hook his chin sometimes when they’re going nice and slow, tired from a long day or feeling a little sentimental.“Good.”Jungkook snaps forward a second later, buries himself deep and fucks him in long strokes. His fingers find purchase on Jimin’s shoulders as he rocks. It’s all so even, rhythmic, practiced. Jimin could close his eyes at any time and probably conjure up this exact sensation― of Jungkook over him, on him, in him. Sometimes, when he’s bored to death sitting in those eons-long council meetings his father makes him attend, he does. At the very least getting a boner in front of some forty people gives him a rush that drawing and redrawing territory lines just doesn’t.Jungkook untucks his chin and leans up to presses soft, delicate kisses to Jimin’s eyelids even as he fucks him rather roughly up the bed.“ Ha― What are you doing?”“What’s it look like?”“ Feels like you’re being weird again.” He gapes as Jungkook grinds into him, nudges his prostate.Jungkook ignores the dig. “Love your eyes.” Jimin chokes on a gasp. “Love how tight you squeeze them when I’m fucking you just how you like.”“Stop that,” Jimin moans, high and broken. Jungkook’s smart enough to know that Jimin’s not talking about the sex.“Why? I know you like it.” Jimin does like it. Probably too much, which really, really cannot be good for him.“Lies,” he says but doesn’t protest again. Jungkook kisses the tip of his nose and drags achingly good over his prostate gland. “Ugh.” Jimin scrunches up his nose. “You’re really ruining the mood.”Jungkook grasps his rock hard dick and makes Jimin jolt up with a gasp. “I sure couldn’t tell.”“Whatever.” Jimin gasps as Jungkook drags his thumb around the head. He’s smiling ridiculously big for someone with his dick in him. Jimin clenches up and enjoys the way his eyebrows furrow up as he loses any semblance of concentration.Jimin knows he’s getting close when Jungkook’s head drops onto his chest, when he starts whimpering half-broken praises into his collarbone.“Baby are you gonna come already?” He already knows how much Jungkook loves it when he talks that. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but Jimin has a sort of sense for these things. “Gonna finish before me darling?”Jungkook grunts with effort as he hitches one of Jimin’s thighs up over his shoulder, spreading him graphically, fantastically wide. Jimin loves to see all those years of dancing lessons pay off. “Gonna get you off first. And then-” he breathes raggedly, eyes locked on where his cock disappears inside. “-and then can I…” he trails off to an unintelligible mumble, suddenly bashful. “ -in you?”Jimin considers it. “Not tonight. So messy.” He cards his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, deceptively soft. “Got another meeting tomorrow, real early.”Jungkook nods like he understands and readjusts on his knees to get a better angle. He thrusts in hard, twists his fingers expertly around Jimin’s cock and bites down on a nipple.Jimin doesn’t mean to make a sound, but something harsh and high and keening comes tearing out of his throat anyway. He clasps a hand over his own mouth in a hot rush of embarrassment. One of the mares whinnies nervously below them.“God.” Jungkook stares at him, eyes wide and shocked and blown with lust. “Was it that good?”“You have no idea.” Jimin’s head lolls back on a boneless neck, still shuddering from the intensity. Black dots swim in his vision. He manages to keep mostly quiet when Jungkook does it again a moment later, fingers circling viciously. “Holy shit,” he gasps and comes all over Jungkook’s fist, whole body pulsing. His ass clenches tight and Jungkook groans softly, thrusts gone slow and shallow. He pants desperately, lips parted on a silent moan as he manages to restrain himself.“Changed my mind,” Jimin says shakily, reaching up to bring Jungkook’s face within reach. He could kiss him now if he wanted to, just inches of space separating their lips. He doesn’t. “Do it.” Jungkook looks confused for only a second before his eyes flash in understanding and he nods frantically.He ruts in with shallow, halting motions, face buried back in the crook of Jimin’s neck where he can huff and mouth wetly. It’s only a few moments before he comes, hips jolting violently forward, filling him with hot white pulses. Jimin lays still and takes all of it.Jungkook shivers through the last waves and flops limply onto Jimin’s chest, utterly still. Jimin lets him lay plastered over him for a long few minutes, until his weight and heat gets to be overwhelming. He rolls him gently to the side then and Jungkook goes bonelessly. Jimin swipes his sweaty bang out of his face with a giggle.“That good?” he mocks, prodding right where he knows Jungkook is ticklish. Jungkook reacts sluggishly, slapping weakly at Jimin’s hands on his ribcage. He blinks a single eye open and glares. “You have no idea.” Jimin manages only a cursory wipe down before they both fall asleep there in the hay, sweaty and tangled together, skin tacky and clinging. Jimin wakes up with the first faint pink rays of dawn to a mouthful of hair and stickiness coated all down the insides of his thighs.“Christ.” He rolls Jungkook’s head off of his chest and it thunks down against solid wood through the little padding offered by straw and wool. Jungkook comes to with a groan and squints up into Jimin’s face, confused.“Whasgoinon?” he slurs, eyes slipping shut even as his lips struggle to shape the words. His voice is even raspier than usual, comes out sounding downright ragged this morning.“Gotta wake up.” Jimin pats his chest in silent apology. “The stable-hands will be in soon and if they catch us again, people are going to start getting suspicious.” Not that it matters much. Jimin has been bribing about half the palace staff to keep their mouths shut about their torrid affair for months now. At this point it’s just a matter of pride. If one more handmaiden catches him with his pants around his ankles he’s going to scream.“Mmph,” Jungkook grumbles, tugging the corner of the blanket over his chin. “Can’t move.”Jimin shoves him harder this time and Jungkook’s eyes blink open in sleepy offense. “ You can’t move? And you did what last night? Please, tell me again who can’t move.”“You’re so fucking…” Jungkook mumbles something under his breath that Jimin chooses not to catch.“What was that?”“Nothing.” Jungkook sits up and yawns, joints popping as he stretches his arms overhead. Jimin eyes the way skin ripples over the hard muscle of his abdomen with thinly disguised interest. “You’re charming and lovely and so sweet. I love how you wake me up like this every fucking time.” Jimin knows it’s not a genuine compliment, but he’ll take his wins where he can get them.“Thanks you,” he says diplomatically, and arranges himself on his knees. “Now please let’s get out of here before your father sends someone looking for you and I have to pawn off another family heirloom.The throb at the base of his spine is as expected as it is unwelcome. The air in the stables is cool on his bare flesh and he stuffs himself begrudgingly back into his clothes which cling uncomfortably to his body in all the worst places. He can’t wait to bathe, get all the sweat and spunk and oil off of his skin and hair. Beside him, Jungkook shrugs back into his cloak and heaves himself down to the barn floor.They part outside the entrance to the servants quarters just as the sun begins to peak above the mountains in the far east. It casts the sky a hue of light pink and yellow that reminds Jimin supremely of the way Jungkook had flushed above him as his hips pounded out a rhythm into Jimin’s body.Jungkook looks at him, skin looking somehow radiant rather than greasy and Jimin wants to kiss him so bad. It’s not really a part of their agreement, the no-kissing thing. No one ever said they couldn’t, said they shouldn’t. But neither of them have and neither of them do and so Jimin’s lips remain regretfully unkissed and waiting, maybe, for just the right mood to strike. So far it hasn’t. It’s probably for the best.Jimin slips back through the halls the way he’d come, feet almost silent this time, and manages to avoid detection right up until he’s slipping back into his own chambers. The wide oak door gives a heavy creak as it swings inwards and he winces as it slams shut behind him. He leans with his back pressed up against the door, taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Nothing like the thrill of being caught to wake him right up.He catches some fleeting movement just outside his window and peers out to see Jungkook standing in the courtyard below waving wildly, huge smile lighting up his face like the sun. Jimin can’t help but to grin right back, motioning for Jungkook to move before someone sees him. Jungkook snickers and ducks under an archway into the gardens, almost hidden sight. The soft melody of his laugh lingers with Jimin long after he does.Jimin sighs as he watches him go. He’d always thought he and Jungkook would get themselves into trouble one day if they carried on as they had been. Now he’s starting to think that day had come and gone without his even realizing it. Oh well. Nothing a good bath wouldn’t fix.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“I don’t get it,” Seokjin said. He was reclined on the sofa in their cramped excuse for a living room, tossing one of Namjoon’s weird frog figurines in the air and catching it in one hand, tossing it again, seeing how long he could wait to snatch it out of the air before it crashed down onto the tile. He was obviously bored out of his mind, enough to waste his time grilling Jungkook about his sex life. His notoriously dry, arguably non-existent one. “You are for all intents and purposes a legal adult male. How have you never watched porn?
In fact, Jungkook had seen porn― once. If two girls one cup didn’t convince him he never wanted to touch that shit again, nothing would.
Jungkook merely shrugged, went back to shovelling luke warm instant ramen into his mouth. Maybe if Seokjin saw that his mouth was full he would stop asking.
Of course, Seokjin was Seokjin, and as such he didn’t seem to care for things like common manners and decorum or appropriate mealtime conversation.
“I mean seriously.” he went on. “What do you do when you get a boner? Pray it away? Jerk it to the vaguely titty-shaped light fixture? Use your imagination?”
Clearly Seokjin thought of him as much more pathetic than Jungkook would have personally identified. “If you must know, I look at erotic manga sometimes,” Jungkook said, more like muttered, mouth obscured by the lip of his tea mug. But Seokjin, with his selectively exceptional hearing must have picked up on the note of embarrassment in his voice. Just like that and Seokjin knew he had him on the line.
“You know what. Somehow I always knew you would turn up a hentai pervert.” Seokjin looked a little too thrilled at the prospect. His game with the frog had been abandoned as he latched onto the perfect opportunity to tease Jungkook breathless. “You strike me as someone who would be into the freaky shit― tentacles or like… monster bukakke.”
Jungkook coughed around a mouthful of broth. His throat burned almost as hot as his ears. “Shut up. It’s not even weird, stop making it weird.” He wasn’t trying to beg but he could hear his own voice getting shrill, a little whiny. This was usually when one of the other boys would cut in, say something to shut Seokjin up. Only the two of them were alone in the dorm, and there was no one there to save him from his embarrassment.
“Then what is it like?” Seokjin folded his hands just below his chin. “Please, I’m dying to know.” He paused a second. “Unless it’s incest, please don’t say incest.”
“It’s not incest…”
There was another pause that lasted far too long. Jungkook could tell he was being really, terribly awkward about all this, but he couldn’t help it. How did one tastefully describe the precise sort of hentai they’d been jerkin’ it too without spontaneously combusting from embarrassment? He was pretty sure it was impossible. Even Taehyung wouldn’t be that bold, and he was pretty damn shameless.
“Then… what?” Seokjin appeared largely untroubled by his tense silence. “Something worse than
that?”
Jungkook didn’t quite know how to answer that question, and furthermore he was pretty sure if he even
tried
, his tongue would burn right out of his mouth or something equally horrible. He swung his legs underneath him, toes just barely sweeping the floor as he pursed his lips and pretended to think about it. In front of him, the rest of his ramen had begun to grow cold and soggy. That was okay, he wasn’t much in the mood to eat anymore.
Finally,
finally―
after what was realistically only about fifteen seconds but
felt
like the longest decade of Jungkook’s young life― it seemed like Seokjin was beginning to pick up on the severity of his discomfort. “Fine,” he huffed, turning back to Namjoon’s frog toy on the coffee table. “You don’t have to tell me, I get it. You want your private life to stay private.”
After four years of living together, Jungkook liked to to think he knew Seokjin pretty well. Which was how he knew Seokjin had to be positively burning up inside not knowing, even though he was doing an almost convincing job playing it off. Jungkook pushed his dishes in the general direction of the sink and stood up.
“Hyung.” He forced himself into the tiny space on the couch between Seokjin and the armrest. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just way too embarrassing.”
Seokjin, although he had Jungkook all in his space, practically begging to be showered with attention like he so rarely was, did not deign to look at him. “No, no. It’s completely fine. I thought this might be a chance for us all to bond, but―” he sniffed. “I see how it is.”
A long time ago, Jungkook might have believed he was genuinely upset acting like this, but he could tell now when Seokjin was just being dramatic and when he was actually pissed off, and now was one of the former. He seemed to be in remarkably good spirits actually, so Jungkook took the opportunity to head-butt him a little while he could get away with it.
“Do you usually bond with friends over porn?”
Seokjin shoved his head away and whacked him with the nearest cushion, a gag gift from a staff member with a poor rendition of Yoongi’s face embroidered on the front. “Yes, actually. Yoongi, Joon, Hoseok and I have an ongoing rec list.” Jungkook didn’t quite know what he was meant to do with that information, but something about it made him deeply unsettled. What did that even
mean?
Did porn even have a ratings system― what could that possibly be based on? It had always seemed to him like the sort of practice that forent all artistry for the sake of vulgarity. And how couldn’t it― there was nothing artistic about human genitals. At least in drawings there was a degree of creative expression to make them look nicer. In real life they were just awkward and oddly shaped and produced way too many weird fluids to be all that pleasant to look at for extended periods of time.
“You’re probably too young to appreciate it anyway,” Seokjin said― way off base, as usual.
Jungkook highly resented the implication that he was anything other than a mature adult, but the longer he thought about it, the more certain he was that he didn’t want to see any of the weird shit his hyungs were watching. Especially Yoongi. Jungkook had always imagined he’d be into some weird shit. Probably dungeon-master roleplay or something, if that was a thing that happened in porn.
“Or I just have refined tastes and I’m not desperate.”
Seokjin looked at him seriously. “Please don’t fool yourself into believing that reading your weird comic book porn makes you any more cultured than than us regular porn-watchers. I can promise you it doesn’t.”
Seokjin might have been right about that, but Jungkook was very defensive when it came to his erotic art viewing habits, so he snapped a little. “Sorry, I can’t hear opinions from philistines.”
Seokjin looked at him for a long time, expression very blank. Finally he blinked a couple times. “I hope you and your anime titties are very happy together,” he said. “See if you ever get access to The Stash now because that door is officially closed.”
“Good.” Jungkook said. “I don’t want it anyway.”
Seokjin looked offended on behalf of explicit videographers everywhere. “Okay. Enjoy your life as a sexless weeb,” he said, which as true as it may have been, was a little uncalled for. He collected his (read: Namjoon’s) things from the living room and slunk off towards his and Yoongi’s room.
Jungkook was left alone with his thoughts quite suddenly, which was almost never a good thing. It took him approximately three minutes after that conversation had ended to realize that the burning sensation he felt in the pit of his stomach was not from the spicy ramen, but rather a morbid, lustful sort of curiosity that threatened to consume him if it wasn’t immediately sated. He jumped up from the couch. Fuck it. He was nineteen, he could handle this shit.
“Seokjin hyung?” he called. “Hyung, I take it back! Wait!”
***
Jungkook was a lot of things, and apparently weak-willed was one of them. Seokjin had very graciously accepted his apology for insinuating that he was anything less than an upright citizen, and he’d even offered to show Jungkook a thing or two so he didn’t up on anymore horrifying fetish websites, nice!
Jungkook still had some mixed feelings about the whole thing, but if Seokjin had successfully instilled any one value in Jungkook, it was that sometimes he just had to trust Seokjin’s gut. Besides, anything Namjoon did couldn’t be that bad, Namjoon was basically the equivalent of a human angel― and if
Namjoon
had instilled any one value in him, it was to believe in himself. That was a little difficult though, when Jungkook had no idea what the fuck he was doing, so he’d just have to go along with Seokjin on this one.
Jungkook found himself holed up in Seokjin’s room late that night, trying not to break into a peal of nervous laughter as the camera panned up and down the woman on-screen’s body, pausing midway to zoom in hyper-close on her nipple. There wasn’t a whole lot of room on Seokjin’s bed, especially with Taehyung hogging so much space. Jungkook wasn’t sure just how many people Seokjin had invited― he’d kind of assumed it would just be the two of them, actually― but he was really hoping that Namjoon wasn’t about to burst through the bedroom door all like:
sorry I’m late,
and sit down next to him. Jungkook would probably explode. Just like the big naked guy who had just appeared onscreen would probably be doing shortly.
“Oh holy shit.” Taehyung’s mouth dropped wide open as the dude in the video shucked his pants with a flourish. “That’s a
big
fucking dick.”
Seokjin smashed the spacebar on the laptop, halting the video, and elbowed Taehyung hard in the ribs. “Shut the hell up. I told you Yoongi’s a light sleeper.”
Taehyung, looking sufficiently cowed, rubbed at his chest. His arm brushed up against Jungkook’s side where they were pressed together, heads ducked under the blanket where the air had gone hot and damp from their intermingled breaths. On Taehyung’s other side, holding down the corner of their makeshift blanket fort lest any light escape loomed Seokjin. The bold black line of his drawn-together brows was especially striking in the bluish light of the laptop screen. The vibe altogether felt oddly reminiscent of a sort of camping, the major difference being that usually when Jungkook camped he wasn’t also watching videos of naked people with his best friends.
“Sorry,” Taehyung whispered and his hand crept slowly towards the keyboard, hovering over the spacebar. He peeked up at Seokjin like he was asking for permission. Seokjin rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seem too annoyed as he pressed Taehyung’s finger down over the button and the animation on screen resumed.
Almost immediately, the hush that had fallen under their little woven canopy was broken by a guttural, groan from the man in the video. Jungkook tried his best not to gag as the sweaty, flushed, bodybuilder looking dude rammed what had to be near ten inches of cock into a petite blonde woman who was wailing like a banshee. Jungkook would probably scream too if that were him― that looked downright painful, not at all arousing. He thought porn was supposed to make you want to get off; this video made him want to curl up in bed alone with a hut cup of tea and a good long book to distract him from the inevitabilities of rough, painful, and grotesque sex acts.
The video played on and Jungkook slid his eyes onto Taehyung, who was watching with a rapt, puzzled sort of expression, his head cocked like a dog’s. Seokjin, he found, wasn’t even looking at the video, but was examining a bit of dirt under fingernail. He glanced up then, as though he could sense where Jungkook’s attention had strayed, and smirked as they made eye contact. Jungkook blushed furiously and forced his eyes back onto the screen.
Now the girl had managed to contort herself into what Jungkook could only assume must be one of the most awkward, uncomfortable positions one could possibly maintain while being simultaneous railed by a gross sweaty dude on a couch. He tried not to cringe at the over-dramatic acting as the woman’s moans pitched impossibly louder and higher. If anything were going to wake up Yoongi, it would certainly be this. Blessedly, the video ended after another minute, and Jungkook sagged lightly into Taehyung’s side as he finally allowed himself to breath deeply again.
He would chalk this one up to a failed experiment― porn was definitely nowhere near as good as he’d been led to believe. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep off the faint sick-ish feeling making his stomach churn. “Uh. Nice video hyung,” he muttered. “Thanks for showing us.”
“You
liked
that?” Taehyung blurted, cutting off whatever Seokjin had opened his mouth to say.
“I mean―” Jungkook tried to gauge Seokjin’s face for a response. Was it considered offensive to criticize a friend’s taste in porn? He was really out of his depth here. “It was… okay?” he ventured.
Seokjin’s bottom lip trembled for a moment, and Jungkook was accosted briefly by the bizarre impression that Seokjin might cry. Instead, he broke into a peal of wheezing laughter, definitely much louder than Taehyung’s commentary had been, probably even louder than the screaming woman in the video. Jungkook was beginning to heavily doubt that Yoongi was as light a sleeper as Seokjin claimed.
“Do you want to watch another then?” Seokjin asked, even as he tried and failed to gulp back his laughter. His eyes, still half-shut and watery from laughing read as a sort of challenge.
Shit. Jungkook really didn’t want to see any more of that. But he also didn’t want to seem like a prude or a baby, and apparently, those were the only two types of people that didn’t watch porn. “Sure,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. It fell a bit flat, but Seokjin was already scrolling to the next video.
This one was a bit less awkwardly staged, but a lot more violent. Jungkook tried his best not to flinch as another thick-necked foreign man slapped a tiny girl repeatedly on the ass. He was beginning to wondered if giant, monster cocks were an American thing or if he was just grossly inadequate on the global totem-pole of dicks.
“You know real girls don’t make those noises,” Seokjin told them about halfway through, eyes somewhat unfocused as he picked at a hangnail. Taehyung nodded attentively and Jungkook fought the urge to shut his eyes. This video wasn’t quite as disturbing as the last though― maybe he was already getting desensitized. Maybe he would grow to like this stuff eventually, with enough practice.
“Did you like that one?” Seokjin asked when the video had played through.
Jungkook braced himself to lie through his teeth. “Yeah, it was cool.”
Seokjin looked a little disbelieving. “Didn’t look like it,” he said, just casually enough that Jungkook knew he was being pointed about it.
“Well I did.”
“No way,” Taehyung whipped around to frown at him. “You don’t even have a boner dude, no way you thought it was that good.”
“Maybe you just can’t see it.” He shot back, and realized about half a second too late what he was insinuating.
“Please. I know for a fact that you’re not wearing underwear right now. We would definitely be able to see
something.”
Taehyung said.
“Yeah well.” Jungkook said, and then stopped short when he couldn’t think of a follow up that wouldn’t involve him casting some major aspersions on the nature of his own dick. “Shut up.”
“I can’t believe you watch that stuff.” Taehyung said to Seokjin. “It’s so dramatic and fake. It’s like they tried to replace the lack of chemistry with fake moans and a shit ton of viagra.”
Seokjin started laughing again, and Jungkook was beginning to get the sense he was in on some kind of joke that he and Taehyung weren’t privy to. His face had started to go very red from the force of it. “You think I watch
that
in my private time?”
“Why else would you show it to us?” Taehyung looked downright offended. “You said you were going to show us your stash!”
“But this was way funnier,” Seokjin didn’t balk in the slightest at Taehyung’s puppy frown. “Sorry to disappoint kiddos but I don’t know shit about guy on girl porn. I thought that
was
what straight dudes liked.”
“I don’t know about straight dudes, but that was scarring.”
“Wh―
huh?”
Jungkook tried to catch Taehyung’s eye, but he was still looking at Seokjin, betrayed.
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said, though the authenticity was undermined somewhat by the giant grin on his face.
“You should be,” Taehyung pouted. It was a good pout, nearly irresistible, even to Jungkook sometimes. “Show us your real stash.”
“I’m pretty sure you won’t like that.”
“Try me,” Taehyung said.
Jungkook was really not in the mood to watch any more porn tonight, and potentially not for the foreseeable future, but when Taehyung nudged him he nodded along anyway.
“Yeah,” he said. “If that last video didn’t scare us off nothing will.”
Seokjin shook his head with a fond smile. “My innocent, naive children. The mere fact that you could say such a thing proves that you could and would be devoured alive by the infinite number of dark web fetish sites that exist on these interwebs.”
“Shut up,” Taehyung pushed him. “Play the damn videos.”
So Seokjin opened up a file on his computer desktop titled
Girls Generation’s Greatest Hits
and clicked on the first thumbnail. He smashed the play button like he had something to prove. “You asked for this.”
At first Jungkook didn’t see what the fuss was. There was a toned, tanned guy lying face down and naked on a chaise lounge, reading a book in the sun. He wasn’t as terrifyingly buff as the last guy, had a nice but fairly average body, which made Jungkook feel minutely better.
A second man appeared on screen with gorgeous green eyes and dressed, for some indeterminable reason, in a tuxedo. The two men began to chatter in English. Jungkook picked out a few words here and there, but he couldn’t quite grasp the context of the situation. He waited patiently for the girl to show up.
Only she never did.
Instead, the man in the tux straddled the man on the sun lounger and began to massage his lower back, just inches away from squeezing over his toned ass cheeks. This was weird, right? Jungkook’s eyes flicked to Taehyung, who was transfixed on the screen, open-mouthed and blank. Seokjin too had his eyes locked on the computer, with an odd sort of anticipation. Okay then. Maybe it wasn’t as weird as he thought. The massage actually looked kind of nice― that would probably feel pretty good.
Then the guy on the lounger set down his book and rolled over onto his back. He was visibly hard, not as big as the first guy but still ridiculously well-endowed. The tip of his dick was nearly brushing the other dude’s thigh, but neither of them reacted like this was anything out of the ordinary. Jungkook was beginning to get an inkling as to why Seokjin had been so hesitant to this to them. His suspicions were confirmed when tuxedo-dude lunged down quite abruptly to put the other dude’s dick in his mouth. Beside him, Taehyung inhaled sharply.
“Hyung,”
Jungkook breathed as the man on screen moaned and let his head fall back on the chaise.
“Shhh.” Seokjin murmured, eyes never leaving the screen. Jungkook gulped and tried not to panic. Seokjin was into dudes―
okay,
that was just fine, that was just great. The man onscreen bobbed up and down the other dudes dick a bit faster. This was at least a little bit weird, wasn’t it? But Taehyung didn’t seem to think so― Jungkook didn’t think Tae was even blinking anymore. The tanned guy wove his fingers through tuxedo-dude’s hair and
pulled
. Tuxedo-dude moaned lowly and let his eyes fall closed in pleasure as he slurped around his mouthful of dick.
Oh,
that― that wasn’t as bad as Jungkook would have imagined it to be. He couldn’t quite say he liked it but― but the way the guy twisted his fingers in his partner’s hair was kind of nice-looking, Jungkook wouldn’t mind having his own hair touched like that sometime. Perhaps under different circumstances.
Now he couldn’t look away.
Time seemed to collapse in on itself, and before he could consciously process what was going on, the guy in the tuxedo had unzipped his pants and pulled out his long, slightly curved dick. Jungkook stared with rapt attention. Now Tuxedo dude was fucking the other guy on his hands and knees, not too rough, but not exactly gentle either. Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his throat now, and he couldn’t quite figure out why.
He watched as the men on the chaise lounge fucked in front of the pool, the one moaning quietly into his crossed arms, not theatrical and drawn out, but whiny and aborted. They fucked for what seemed to last both hours and mere seconds, and Jungkook watched all the while, stomach lurching violently, a vaguely pleasant buzzing between his ears.
When the video ended and the final frame froze, Jungkook looked up from the laptop to see both Seokjin and Taehyung blinking over at him, wide eyed. He blinked right back, confusedly, still floundering to grasp the implication of all this.
“Liked that one did you?” Seokjin murmured finally. Jungkook tried to shake his head no, but forgot it was currently being used as structural support for their fort.
“No?” he said shakily. It was awfully hot under the blanket now, almost stifling in fact.
“You sure.” Taehyung asked, and Jungkook didn’t have to ask what he meant, just followed Taehyung’s gaze down to his lap where there was a distinct bulge that hadn’t been there before. Funny. He couldn’t remember when that had happened.
“I―” he said and tried to will his dick to deflate. It didn’t work, now that Taehyung had pointed it out, he could feel how hard his cock was throbbing. “Sorry, I― I don’t know what happened. I’ll just― I can go.” They were both probably really weirded out right now. That was weird right― popping a boner watching gay porn with your friends?
“Wait,” Seokjin gripped his wrist before he could slip out of the bed. His grip was loose enough, gave the impression that if Jungkook so desired, he could flee this room and pretend none of this had ever happened. He froze where he sat.
“It’s okay, Kook.” Taehyung squeezed his knee. It was an awfully familiar gesture, a friendly one, not sexually charged at all. It still made his dick throb just that little bit harder. He was ashamed.
“Sorry,” he mumbled again. “I made it weird, didn’t I.”
“No you didn’t, you―
look.”
Taehyung squeezed harder on his knee, Jungkook tore his eyes away from the laptop screen, he hadn’t even realized he’d been looking again.
“Huh?”
“I said look.” Taehyung stressed. Jungkook didn’t know what he was talking about, but he was pretty damn embarrassed and not particularly in the mood to play guessing games. “Trust me, I get it.”
“Tae, can we please not―”
“Would you just
look.”
Taehyung gestured emphatically to his own crotch. Oh.
Oh.
Jungkook couldn’t tell if he was more or less embarrassed knowing Taehyung was also sporting an awkward boner in his pajama pants.
They both whipped to look at Seokjin at the same time.
Seokjin grinned, a smug, sly sort of thing that almost made Jungkook question if this had been his intent all along. “Well we all already knew
I
was into it.”
And so there were the three of them, huddled inside a blanket fort in the middle of the night, all sporting at least a half chub because someone thought it was a good idea to host a group pornography screening sitting, staring in a silent sort of recognition. He wasn’t sure who broke first― but suddenly they were all laughing, quiet at first, giggles suppressed into firsts, and then loud, unabashed guffaws. Jungkook choked on a hiccup and laughed a bit harder. Taehyung looked ridiculous as he tumbled back, halfway out of the pillow fort and convulsed.
Abruptly, just as Jungkook was gearing up to ask , the blanket was torn right from over their heads, exposing Jungkook’s warm, sweat damp skin to the startlingly cool air of the room. He barely managed to bite down on a scream as he cowered behind Taehyung on the bed, shivering.
“Jesus Goddamn Christ,” Yoongi glowered down at the three of them, eyes still half shut and cheeks puffy with sleep. It was nowhere near as threatening as he intended it to be, probably, but Jungkook was still adequately cowed. “If you all don’t shut the hell up.”
“Oops,” Seokjin said, fingers discretely creeping back to the mousepad to exit out of the porn tab. “I didn’t realize we were being that loud.”
That was a damned lie and Yoongi seemed to know it. “Shut up.” He threw a pillow at Seokjin’s head and narrowly missed. “I’m going back to bed. If I wake up again before morning...” He muttered ominously as he retreated back into the shadows and disappeared.
“Goodnight
dad,”
Seokjin whispered.
“Goodnight,” Yoongi snapped from his side of the room.
That was the end of that. Jungkook and Taehyung scampered back to their own rooms and Jungkook waited a good twenty minutes for his boner to subside before he fell asleep. And if he dreamed that night about Namjoon by the pool? Well, that was only to be expected, wasn’t it.