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Jungkook is barely twenty when he and Seokjin become something between more than friends and less than boyfriends (Jungkook shudders at the thought of friends-with-benefits so he steers clear of calling it that altogether). Seokjin is broader but Jungkook is bulkier, all muscle and no finesse, and Seokjin lets Jungkook push him against the mirror, relaxing his broad shoulders as he licks into Jungkook’s mouth. They don’t say anything, even as Jungkook turns Seokjin around and fucks into him, breath hot against the mirror. The tension built up from countless sleepless nights, vocal lessons that always end with a sore throat, an ache in his back as his shoulders struggle against the crushing pressure of being Jungkook of BTS and a particularly rough practice has Jungkook pressing his fingers into the crest of Seokjin’s hips, teeth biting into the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck. Seokjin comes with Jungkook’s name on his lips and when Jungkook comes soon after, he slumps against Seokjin’s body, lips ghosting over the ridges of his spine.
(After, as they cleaned themselves up and erased any evidence of what they’d done, Seokjin had looked at him with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on and he yearned to kiss away the tension between his eyebrows and the hard line of his mouth. They didn’t talk about it, not even after Jungkook crawled into Seokjin’s bed a week later and did it all over again.)
At first, Jungkook had spent two weeks agonizing over what it meant, if it meant anything at all, but Seokjin’s behaviour hadn’t changed so Jungkook told himself to take it for what it was. And it was just meaningless sex, just a way for both of them to let out their pent up frustrations. So Jungkook thinks nothing of it anymore, doesn’t even flinch when Seokjin places a hand on Jungkook’s thigh, picking at the inseam of his jeans with a promise of later in his eyes.
//
For the first time in 72 hours, Jungkook finds himself alone with Seokjin.
They’ve started promotions again and the first days are always the busiest – music shows and interviews and no sleep in between. It isn’t until they’re in the waiting room and Jungkook is tucked in a corner sleeping when Seokjin saunters up to him and pokes at his cheek to wake him up. “JK,” he whispers, and Jungkook stirs, bleary eyes blinking open to look at him.
“Hyung?” comes Jungkook’s voice, slurred and raspy. Seokjin forces himself into the small space beside Jungkook, settling in with a pleased sigh.
“How are you doing?” he asks and Jungkook blinks at Seokjin, still half asleep. He shrugs, mumbling something along the lines of I’m fine, and Seokjin chuckles. “That’s my trooper.”
Jungkook frowns. Even now, Seokjin still treats Jungkook like he’s a child. But instead of fruitlessly arguing with Seokjin (it’s always a losing battle when it comes to him), Jungkook goes back to letting his head loll to the side, eyes falling shut, intent on ignoring Seokjin to express his indignance. Seokjin doesn’t say anything for a while and Jungkook almost thinks he’s fallen asleep, too, but warm fingers sneak under his sleeve, searing the skin in his wake as his fingers crawl up Jungkook’s arm and suddenly he’s very awake.
Five minutes later Jungkook finds himself tucked into a small supply closet at the end of the hall with one dim light bulb hanging dangerously low from the ceiling, a broom digging into his back, and Seokjin on his knees in front of him, lips wrapped around his cock. He refrains from placing his hands in Seokjin’s freshly styled hair, instead placing one on his shoulder and the other on the wall to steady himself. Seokjin hollows his cheeks and moans around his cock, the vibrations making Jungkook shudder and curse under his breath. Seokjin’s hands find their way to Jungkook’s thighs, scratching lightly and squeezing as he gives a hard suck. When Jungkook’s close, he lets Seokjin know with a light tug to get him to pull away but Seokjin just flutters his eyelashes and swallows when Jungkook hits his release.
Jungkook helps Seokjin to his feet and wipes away spit from the corner of Seokjin’s swollen lips. The supply closet is stuffy and hot and Jungkook can feel the back of his shirt sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Seokjin’s licking his lips, glancing down at Jungkook’s legs. “What was that all about?” Jungkook asks, breathless still.
Seokjin grins, sheepish. “We haven’t gotten any alone time in a while and your thighs look great in those pants.”
Maybe it’s the exhaustion of having only two hours of sleep in three days that makes Jungkook push Seokjin against the door and kiss him hard, grinding against him until Seokjin is whimpering into his mouth. They don’t have much time until someone will come looking for them but Seokjin drives Jungkook fucking crazy and Jungkook can never get enough. It would be mortifying, the way Jungkook becomes some primal beast in Seokjin’s company, but it’s hard to think about that with the way Seokjin’s skin feels against his, the way he pulls Jungkook closer and breathes his name like a prayer, flushed and deliciously wanton.
When they return exactly four minutes apart, Taehyung gives Jungkook a weird look, taps his flushed cheeks and asks if he’s feeling okay. He glances at Seokjin across the room fixing his hair in the mirror, and an ugly part of him howls in triumph knowing what they’d just done and that no one else can have Seokjin so pliant, so wrecked. He swallows, feels sweat gathering at his hairline, and tells Taehyung he’s okay and that all he needs is some more sleep, but even as he settles back into the corner of the room and closes his eyes he remains wide awake, heart beating unrelentlessly in his chest.
//
The change is almost negligible at first. It comes some time after Jungkook stays the whole night, tangled up in Seokjin’s warmth. After Seokjin comes for the second time that night, Jungkook makes to slip out and head for his own bed, where suspicion won’t be raised if he’s found in it when everyone wakes up. Seokjin reaches out, limbs feeling like jelly, and wraps his fingers loosely around Jungkook’s wrist, tugging. It’s a silent plea and who is Jungkook to deny him?
So he pulls his sweats on and crawls back into bed, curling around Seokjin, chest pressed flush against Seokjin’s back. Seokjin’s breathing is even and slow as he dozes off, heartbeat steady under Jungkook’s palms. There’s something blooming in the pit of his belly, warm and sweet in his mouth. He isn’t sure what it is, but it feels something like home.
From then on, Jungkook takes up permanent residence in Seokjin’s bed. It’s just because it’s comfortable, he tells himself. Just that. And at first, he believes it. He dismisses the warmth that spreads through his chest when Seokjin huddles close, fingers reaching around Jungkook and absently playing with the baby hairs on the back of his neck until he falls asleep. Tells himself that the crippling happiness he feels when Seokjin smiles at him and reaches out just to hold his hand is the same as the happiness he feels from teasing Jimin or eating lamb skewers with Yoongi.
The lies don’t last long. It becomes increasingly harder to pretend his heart doesn’t ache for Seokjin when they aren’t together or that it’s just the sex he likes and not the way Seokjin lights up when he tells terrible jokes, the way he enjoys his food like it’s the last meal he’ll ever eat, the way he knows exactly how each member is feeling no matter how they try to hide it. He can think of a thousand reasons to love Seokjin, each more mundane than the last.
It doesn’t really hit him until Jungkook wanders into Seokjin’s room only to find him cocooned in his comforter, laptop propped up on the bedside table, the tinny sound of a girl talking filtering out of the speakers. Seokjin smiles when Jungkook comes in and waves him over, unwrapping himself to make room for Jungkook.
“What’s all this?” Jungkook asks, filling the empty space beside Seokjin. Seokjin wraps the comforter around the both of them before leaning his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, feet tangling with his.
“My movie buddy refuses to leave the studio.”
He’s talking about Yoongi, Jungkook realizes. He’d never thought about it before but he wonders now if Seokjin and Yoongi curl up like this, too. Yoongi isn’t the type to cuddle but if it were Seokjin then maybe–
“Yoongi never cuddles with me, that jerk. Watching movies is much nicer this way. It’s a good thing I have you – you’re the only one I can do this with,” Seokjin mutters, shifting just a little closer and Jungkook’s heart swells. It hits him then, like a train, hard enough that he feels like his ribs are caving in from the force, heart crushed by the weight of it all. He’s not sure what sets it off – Seokjin’s fingers intertwining with his, the admission that Seokjin only does this with him, or what – but it’s suddenly too much to bear.
The movie plays on but Seokjin is dozing off ten minutes in, breath hot against Jungkook’s neck. He’s hyper aware of Seokjin beside him, unable to focus on anything but the feel of their skin touching, electric even when it’s nothing but innocent.
He’s in love, and there is no denying it now.
//
In the shower the next morning, after he’d carefully escaped and tucked Seokjin in, he decides that he has to stop whatever he has with Seokjin. He’s not sure how much longer he could go on like this – irrevocably happy in Seokjin’s company until they part and the pain that sets in is almost unbearable, reminded that Seokjin isn’t his and never will be.
He can’t tell anyone, he concludes. He’s sure that he wouldn’t be hated by the members, but he can’t risk ruining their team over his inability to keep his feelings in check. Seokjin, least of all, needs to hear this. Jungkook knows that Seokjin would feel responsible, like he owed Jungkook something and he never wants Seokjin to be burdened by him. What he needs to do is push down these feelings until they go away completely.
//
His resolve doesn’t last long. They clamour into their shared hotel room in Hong Kong after an awards ceremony, Seokjin’s hands fire on Jungkook’s skin as he pushes up Jungkook’s t-shirt, whining a little when it bunches up under his arms. Jungkook pulls away, tugging Seokjin’s bottom lip between his teeth roughly as he does so, and pulls his shirt over his head before tossing it to the ground. Seokjin’s hair is a mess, sticking up in odd places from where Jungkook had ran his hands through it, fingers catching on the hairspray making it stay in place. He likes Seokjin like this, flushed and messy, eyes dark as he nibbles on his lips in anticipation. Jungkook loves ruining Seokjin, and Seokjin loves it, too. But it’s not about Jungkook, he knows. It’s about fun, and Jungkook is just the person who provides it.
Seokjin wraps his arms around Jungkook’s neck and tugs at his hair slightly, not quite sure what he’s asking for but Jungkook understands anyway. Jungkook trails open mouthed kisses down his throat and tugs roughly at the collar of Seokjin’s shirt with his teeth when it gets in his way, revealing the fading hickeys and marks from their previous tryst. Seokjin is smiling, eyes closed as he lets Jungkook manhandle him onto the bed, legs falling open easily to accommodate him.
Jungkook palms Seokjin through his pants, shifting up so that he can swallow the moan Seokjin lets out as he kisses him breathless. He slows down, trailing his finger along the outline of Seokjin’s obvious hard-on, pulling away to look at Seokjin beneath him; he admires the gentle curve of his waist, the flush that colours his cheeks a pretty pink, his lips all thick and swollen, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
He should have more control than this, but Jungkook still bends to Seokjin’s will with no questions, doesn’t even put up much of a fight. He hates how much control Seokjin has over him, hates how Seokjin doesn’t even know.
Later, after they’re done and Seokjin has cuddled into his side, Jungkook holds him close and buries his nose in his hair, hoping he and Seokjin could stay like this forever.
//
Jungkook fails himself more times than he can count. This time, Seokjin is pulling him into a broom closet and shoving his hand down the front of Jungkook’s pants, smirking when Jungkook gasps and lets his head fall back against the wall.
It could be anyone doing this, Jungkook thinks. Seokjin doesn’t need it to be him. But Jungkook keeps coming back, never refuses Seokjin. Every time Jungkook tells himself they need to stop – he needs to stop this – Seokjin places a sneaky hand on the inside of his thigh, complains about his sore shoulders and sends Jungkook hints with his soft eyes, and Jungkook finds his defense crumbling each time he manages to build it up. All Seokjin has to do is ask.
It’s harder like this because Seokjin doesn’t always come to Jungkook just for sex – sometimes he just wants to hang out and talk, or tell a bad joke because he knows Jungkook will laugh anyway. He wishes he could just stop it all, but Seokjin is one of his closest friends, his family, and he’s not someone Jungkook can easily remove himself from.
It is worse when Jungkook feels this ugly part of him that wants Seokjin all to himself start to claw its way up his throat when he sees Seokjin and Namjoon winking at each other from across the room or Hoseok wrapping his arms around Seokjin from behind and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He wants to tell everyone that Seokjin is his and he is Seokjin’s and he wants Seokjin to feel the same way when Jimin leans in close just to kiss Jungkook’s cheek or when Taehyung crawls into bed with him just because he’s cold and wants to cuddle.
The worst part, though, is that he’ll never know. Jungkook will never tell him and it will always hurt.
//
When they fuck now, Jungkook always takes Seokjin from behind. It’s easier this way; he thinks that if he sees Seokjin’s face, contorted in pleasure, ethereal when he grins and tells Jungkook how good he is, he will continue to fall helplessly in love.
(In reality, Jungkook is so far down the rabbit hole that there is not much deeper he can go.)
Now, he has Seokjin pressed against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, shower running hot enough to leave their skin red and raw. He mouths at the curve of Seokjin’s shoulder, three fingers deep as Seokjin claws desperately at the wall. They are only vaguely aware of the members on the other side of the door, voices muffled as they putter around the dorm. When Seokjin starts to lose control of his voice, Jungkook offers him two fingers and he sucks on them obscenely, hips pushing back into Jungkook’s hand.
By the time Jungkook pushes into him, Seokjin is whispering filthy praises into the tile, legs trembling from the strain of keeping himself upright. Jungkook wants to kiss him but he can’t, not like this, so instead he bites hard into the junction where Seokjin’s neck meets his shoulder and Seokjin comes with a strangled cry around Jungkook’s fingers.
Jungkook snaps his hips mercilessly until he’s coming, too, tongue lapping at the bite marks littering Seokjin’s smooth skin.
When Jungkook pulls out, they shower in silence, Jungkook avoiding Seokjin’s gaze completely. When they’re done, Jungkook steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his hips and places his hand on the doorknob, twisting–
“Why don’t you kiss me anymore?”
Jungkook freezes in his spot, fingers trembling around the warm metal of the doorknob. “What do you mean?” he mutters, hoping Seokjin misses the way his voice shakes and shoulders tense, but who is he kidding? Seokjin can always tell. He can’t hide anything from him.
“It’s– nothing. Nevermind.”
And then Jungkook is gone, ignoring the questioning glances the members give him when he leaves the dorm and heads to the practice room despite the shower he just took.
//
He doesn’t touch Seokjin anymore.
Seokjin doesn’t really seem to notice until Jungkook flinches away when he reaches out to tap him on the shoulder. His hand falls away and Jungkook is gone before he can see the hurt on Seokjin’s face. He misses the way Seokjin used to ruffle his hair when he teased him, place a warm hand on his thigh, hold his hand and play with his fingers, but this is for the best, he tells himself. Now, Seokjin sits on the other side of the room, keeps his hands firmly planted on his knees, plays with his own fingers.
Still, the tears come late at night when he thinks about the sadness Seokjin tried to hide every time Jungkook ran away. Namjoon looks at him in horror, hands hanging helplessly in the air, unsure of whether to keep them at his sides or rub soothing circles into Jungkook’s back. Jungkook wipes his tears away viciously, facing the wall. Namjoon makes to turn for the door and it occurs to Jungkook that he is probably going to get Seokjin, because why wouldn’t he? Seokjin is the one who deals with this kind of stuff, the one who comforts the members and talks them through it.
“Don’t!” Jungkook cries, voice cracking.
Namjoon blinks at him, confused, but he sits down on the bed anyway and places an awkward hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. He appreciates it and for now, it’s enough.
//
Two weeks pass before Seokjin grabs Jungkook’s hand and pulls him into a bathroom stall at the broadcasting station. Before Jungkook can even register what’s happening, Seokjin’s hand is in his pants, tugging Jungkook to a full hard-on.
He gets hard embarrassingly fast, body desperate for Seokjin’s touch. Jungkook closes his eyes, lets his head fall back painfully against the wall of the cubicle, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he tries not to moan. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, fingers curling into fists, afraid that if he were to look at Seokjin, he’d be unable to school his expression, taken by Seokjin’s beauty.
It doesn’t take long for him to come. He spills into Seokjin’s hand and he reaches out to return the favour but Seokjin shakes his head and steps away. “I’m fine,” Seokjin says quietly and Jungkook blinks away the post-orgasm haze. This is not their arrangement – they don’t just give without taking in return, that’s not how it works –
The cubicle door shuts and Jungkook can hear the sound of water running. He stands there stupidly still for a moment, unmoving until the water turns off and Seokjin’s footsteps disappear.
This time, he does not cry. When he comes back to their dressing room, face pale and eyes unfocused, the members say nothing. Instead, Taehyung curls up into Jungkook’s side and Jungkook takes a shuddery breath before nuzzling his head against Taehyung’s.
That night, Seokjin invites Jungkook into his bed. Jungkook misses his touch and falls in easily, pushes Seokjin into the mattress and tastes the skin on his back, calloused hands running along his sides. Seokjin is shuddering uncontrollably under him, teeth ripping into his pillow with every snap of Jungkook’s hips.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook tells him without really meaning to and he can’t understand why Seokjin begins to cry then, shoulders shaking with sobs. Jungkook wants to wipe away the tears, kiss his eyelids and tell him it’s alright, I’m here, it’s okay but the words stick to the walls of his throat and all he can do is tangle his fingers in Seokjin’s hair and pull roughly, lifting his head up so that he can kiss him.
Afterwards, when he thinks Seokjin is asleep, Jungkook brushes away the hair matted to his forehead and kisses the spot between his eyebrows tenderly. The tear tracks on his cheeks have dried and Jungkook kisses those, too. He leaves silently then, throat tight with all the words he wishes he could say. The door shuts and Jungkook slumps against it, feeling sick.
//
It’s Yoongi of all people who corners Jungkook in the practice room after everyone’s gone home. Jungkook scowls, not knowing what he did wrong, but Yoongi is looking at him with an expression he remembers seeing only once when he caught Yoongi and Taehyung talking alone, too far away to overhear anything but close enough to see the mix of pity and disappointment on his face. Taehyung had looked equal parts guilty and sad and they talked for an hour before they both emerged looking ten years older.
“Jungkook, what are you doing?” Yoongi says, carefully, and Jungkook blinks at him. He shifts uncomfortably under Yoongi’s gaze and it’s amazing how intimidating Yoongi is when Jungkook is big enough and strong enough to throw him across the room.
“I don’t–”
“You know what I’m talking about.” Yoongi’s voice is stern and unwavering and Jungkook can’t look him in the eye. “You’re much more obvious than you think you are. Both of you.”
He knows about Seokjin, about them, and Jungkook feels his heart rate pick up in panic. God, he’s fucked. He waits for Yoongi to reprimand him, tell him he’s ruined everything, but it never comes. Instead, Yoongi just looks at him, waiting. “Be honest with me.”
“I don’t– how did you know?” Jungkook’s voice is quiet and meek, eyes downcast. He fidgets nervously, picking at a stray thread on his shirt.
“Seriously? Neither of you are as subtle as you think you are. You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice that you always seem to disappear together? You take twenty minute showers together, God, there was one night I couldn’t even come back to the room because you two were fucking while I was out.”
Jungkook flinches with each word, like he’s being slapped with ice water. “Who else knows?”
Yoongi sighs. “Everyone. Hoseok figured it out first. But it’s just us – Jungkook, what if Hobeom-hyung caught you? You think he would have just let it be? No, we’d all be fucked. Fucking your bandmate is absolutely not allowed.”
Jungkook knows this. At first, he’d been tentative about their escapades, glancing around endlessly, fearing someone would catch them. But Seokjin would always take his hand and smooth his thumb over Jungkook’s knuckles, pull him closer and kiss him until all he could think about was the way Seokjin felt against him. “I know,” Jungkook whispers. He means it.
“If you knew then why did you do it?”
Jungkook can’t answer that. He can’t say it’s because Seokjin is a drug and Jungkook can’t give him up no matter how hard he tries, can’t say that he’s just so irrevocably in love with Seokjin that he’d jump off a bridge if it was what Seokjin wanted. He can’t say that Seokjin is the rain that ends a drought, the sun after an endless night, the flower that blooms when spring finally comes.
“Because you’re in love,” Yoongi eventually answers for him.
When Jungkook looks up, he expects rage. He expects a jaw tight with tension, eyes hard and unforgiving. He doesn’t expect the softness of Yoongi’s eyes, the frown etched with compassion.
“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen,” Yoongi says, quiet. “Neither did Taehyung, but it’s happened, and you’re in love.”
“Taehyung?”
“It’s easy to fall in love with Seokjin.”
Jungkook hates how he falls apart then, unable to hold his sobs back, tears blurring his vision. Yoongi reaches forward and pulls him into a tight hug and Jungkook is so wrecked that he can’t even think about how unusual it is that Yoongi’s comforting him like this. “I fucked up, hyung, I don’t know what to do– he doesn’t love me back–”
“How do you know he doesn’t love you?”
“Because that’s not what this was supposed to be, it’s not what he wanted. ”
“You can’t make conclusions about someone else’s feelings all on your own. That’s not fair.”
Yoongi stays with Jungkook that night, silently rubbing his back while Jungkook leaves himself bare, feelings spilled out in front of him like broken pieces, and Yoongi just listens patiently until Jungkook’s throat is raw and he’s fast asleep on the hard wooden floor of the practice room.
//
On their day off, Seokjin traps Jungkook in his room. Half of the members are asleep, the others milling around the dorm. He’s been avoiding Seokjin, resolutely trying to get over Seokjin. After his talk with Yoongi, he’d decided that he just needed to get over Seokjin properly. If Taehyung could do it, so could he.
But it’s hard when Seokjin presses his back to the door and cuts off his only escape route. Jungkook stands at the opposite side of the room, looking like a scared animal waiting to be eaten by its predator.
(If Jungkook really wanted to, he could get away. He’s stronger than Seokjin but he makes no move for the door.)
“Why are you avoiding me?” Seokjin asks and Jungkook flinches.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Jungkook says in his best Yoongi impression – firm and resolute.
“I didn’t want to do it like this but the only way you’ll even be in the same room as me is to force you. I’m not going to leave until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about– I haven’t been avoiding you,” Jungkook says, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to tell me the truth. I get it if you don’t want me anymore but I need you to tell me that.”
Jungkook laughs, but it’s hollow and broken. “I don’t want you anymore,” he lies and the words taste like acid on his tongue. When he looks at Seokjin he sees the quiver of his lips, the wetness in his eyes, the white of his knuckles as he clenches his fists to stop them from trembling. He wants to say don’t look at me like that, like I’m breaking your heart when it’s my heart that’s being broken, but his mouth is dry and the words stay lodged in his throat.
“I thought I could do this but I can’t. Why can’t you tell me the truth? Fuck, it’s so hard when you say that because you look at me like that and I can’t help but have hope.” Jungkook can’t process Seokjin’s words in time before Seokjin is directly in front of him in just two long strides, arms wrapping around him, fingers clutching at his back so hard his shirt threatens to tear.
Jungkook is tense for only a moment before he melts into Seokjin’s touch, body betraying him even now. Seokjin noses along the column of his neck, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He holds his breath, eyes closed, as he feels Seokjin’s soft lips against his. “I was supposed to reject you– I was never supposed to have given in that first night in the practice room. And after that, I kept coming back because I wanted you all to myself. I just– I fell in love when I wasn’t supposed to. I’m so selfish,” Seokjin whispers and he’s stolen the words straight from Jungkook’s own heart.
He’s not sure he believes what he’s hearing. A moment passes and Seokjin takes the silence as an opportunity to kiss Jungkook square on the mouth, lips a little chapped but Jungkook is in no position to complain.
“I want you to be selfish,” Jungkook ends up saying and any doubt he’d had about Seokjin’s feelings is washed away the moment they kiss again. He’d been sure that his love was unrequited but Seokjin’s feelings are loud in the way he presses his lips to Jungkook’s, burns the words into his skin, and Jungkook feels the crushing weight on his heart lifting with each second that passes.
Seokjin’s hands come up to tangle in Jungkook’s hair, feeling the soft strands curl around his fingers. As they kiss, the world rights itself. This time, the pain of not knowing is banished by the taste of Seokjin and the warmth of his lips. Seokjin pulls him apart piece by piece just to put him back together slightly off kilter but it’s the most addictive feeling. They break away but the feeling lingers on his tongue, sweet and pleasant and a little salty from their mixed tears. Seokjin brings his hands down to lace their fingers together, pulling Jungkook onto the bed. They curl into each other and it feels right, mouths melding as they kiss.
Outside of the room, Taehyung is laughing maniacally while Hoseok shrieks in terror. There’s a commotion, the sound of glass shattering, but they don’t hear it. In this moment, the universe bends to envelop them in its heavenly embrace, and all Jungkook can hear is the warm air flushing in and out of his lungs and the steady beat of their hearts.
They stay like this for what could be two minutes or two hours, they can’t be sure, until Jungkook shifts so that he’s above Seokjin, propped up on his elbows, kissing him deeper and harder. When Jungkook nips at Seokjin’s bottom lip, Seokjin’s knee twitches and brushes against Jungkook’s crotch in the process, knocking a breathy gasp out of him. He’s already half-hard and suddenly Seokjin is an oasis in the desert and Jungkook is the man that’s been walking for days without water, desperate for Seokjin’s touch to quench his thirst. His fingers find their way under the hem of Seokjin’s shirt and his blunt nails scrape against the tensing muscle there as he presses closer and kisses him like he’s drowning and Seokjin is a breath of fresh air.
Seokjin pulls away, heaving in large lungfuls of air, and Jungkook dips down to lick at the sweat gathering in the hollow of his collarbone. “Off,” Seokjin gasps, tugging at Jungkook’s shirt and Jungkook swiftly removes it, throwing it off into the corner. Seokjin’s hands are on him then, pressing into the flesh just to feel it give under his touch, and Jungkook shudders at the feeling, tongue peeking out to lick at the seam of Seokjin’s lips. Seokjin’s hands disappear into the waistband of Jungkook’s sweats, hands splaying over his ass and squeezing with every lick Jungkook gives him.
“Shit, Jungkook, I need you right now,” Seokjin mutters, hips lifting slightly to press against Jungkook’s. Jungkook swears roughly and he shifts down to mouth at the sensitive spot just under Seokjin’s jaw, hand moving to palm him through his jeans. He nips at the skin and Seokjin gasps, back arching just slightly.
Seokjin lets Jungkook rip away his clothes, leaving him bare and chilled as Jungkook leaves to rummage through his dresser. When he comes back, he tosses the lube and condoms onto the bedside table before covering Seokjin again, kissing him hard. Seokjin tries to tug at Jungkook’s sweats, silently requesting for him to take the goddamn things off but Jungkook grabs his wrists and pins them to the bed above his head.
“I want to go slowly. I’ve missed you so much,” he says as way of explanation and Seokjin whimpers. He wants to take his time because all they’ve ever done is rush, quick blowjobs in broadcast station bathrooms and quick fucks against the mirrors at the practice room.
Jungkook runs his hands over Seokjin’s flushed skin slick with sweat, addicted to the way it feels under his fingertips. He takes Seokjin’s hands in his own, kissing the pads of each finger and then kissing each knuckle before giving his palms a little lick and moving his lips to his wrist, up his arm and around the curve of his shoulder, making sure to give his other arm the same treatment. Seokjin is squirming underneath him, hips jerking slightly as he searches for friction, but Jungkook continues his slow ministrations, enjoying the sound of Seokjin’s shuddering gasps. “So fucking beautiful,” he mutters.
He licks a thick stripe up Seokjin’s chest, starting from the dark hairs just below his navel and ending at his chin. Seokjin shudders, fingers curling into the bed sheets when Jungkook’s teeth catch on his nipples as he nips at his chest. Then Jungkook shifts back and curls a hand underneath Seokjin’s calf to prop it up so that he can trail kisses from his foot to his hip. He smooths his other hand along Seokjin’s leg and noses along his inner thigh.
“God, you’re killing me,” Seokjin says.
Jungkook doesn’t answer, just leaves butterfly kisses along his hips. It feels incredibly intimate like this, Jungkook just breathing against Seokjin’s skin as he runs his fingers over his body, and Jungkook yearns to feel more. He wants to be as close to Seokjin as possible, lose himself in Seokjin’s warm embrace, explore every nook and cranny and make himself home in Seokjin’s heart, soul laid bare for only Jungkook to see.
Seokjin opens his mouth to say something but all he can manage is a shaky exhale when Jungkook bites high up on his inner thigh before kissing the mark. He does this a few more times, sucking and biting high enough to be hidden by even his underwear. Then, without warning, Jungkook takes Seokjin’s cock in his mouth and flattens his tongue along the underside of it. Seokjin chokes on a gasp, hands tangling in Jungkook’s hair as Jungkook sucks hard. He takes Seokjin in farther until the tip of his cock is hitting the back of his throat, muscles constricting as his gag reflex kicks in. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes and Seokjin thrashes about helplessly as Jungkook deepthroats him. His hands press Seokjin’s hips into the mattress and he bobs up and down skillfully until Seokjin is muttering, “I’m gonna come.”
Jungkook comes up just long enough to say, “No one’s stopping you,” before swallowing him down again, tonguing the slit until Seokjin’s fingers tighten painfully in his hair and he’s coming down Jungkook’s throat. He swallows it all, removing his mouth with a wet pop and using the back of his hand to wipe away the saliva leaking out of the corner of his mouth.
Seokjin pulls him up, eyes hooded, and Jungkook kisses him, slow and thorough. He rolls his hips down with purpose, again and again until Seokjin is getting hard, whimpering into his mouth. Jungkook pulls away, grinning in triumph as he reaches down to run his finger along the side of Seokjin’s cock, feeling it twitch. Seokjin throws an arm over his eyes, attempting to school his expression. It doesn’t work.
“Just– fuck, let me ride you,” he says.
All Jungkook can do is groan, “God yes,” before he’s flipped over and Seokjin is settling in his lap, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, lips red and swollen from kissing. Seokjin pulls off his sweats in one fluid motion and it does nothing to cool him down, skin burning hot from where Seokjin touches him.
Sunlight streams in through the crack in his curtains and casts rays over Seokjin’s trembling body. He looks godly and Jungkook’s heart pounds.
“When did you fall in love with me?” Seokjin asks, rutting his hips forward and sliding their cocks together. Jungkook shudders violently, letting an embarrassing moan escape.
“Didn’t realize– until we watched that movie,” he manages but his voice is rough and gravelly from sucking Seokjin off and it’s very hard to form coherent sentences with Seokjin rutting against him like this. “But I’ve– fuck– been in love with you longer than that.”
“I knew, ah, after we kissed for the first time,” Seokjin says, reaching for the lube. He takes it in his hands and uncaps the bottle, lathering his fingers in the cool liquid. Jungkook watches as he reaches behind himself and inserts a finger, mouth watering. Seokjin’s jaw falls slack and his eyelashes flutter as he fucks himself on his finger, choking out desperate little moans. Jungkook doesn’t blink, wants to burn the image into the back of his eyelids, carve it into his bones. He places his hands on Seokjin’s thighs, massaging the skin and coaxing him on.
The second finger has Seokjin gasping, jaw tight as he tries not to make a sound. The moans come out anyway when Jungkook reaches forward to languidly jerk Seokjin off, his other hand tracing I love you into his thigh. “Stop that, or I’m going to come again.”
Jungkook ignores him, sitting upright to roll a nipple between his teeth, smiling at the mewl Seokjin lets out. Then Jungkook pours some lube on his own fingers and reaches behind Seokjin to insert one alongside Seokjin’s. Their fingers tangle inside him and Seokjin moans loud and long. Jungkook almost feels bad for whoever is still in the dorm. Almost.
Seokjin pushes him back against the bed and pulls out his fingers. Jungkook hesitates, concerned, and he says, “Are you sure? It’s been a while–”
“Fuck, I’m so sure, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook curses as Seokjin slicks him up before lining himself up with the tip of Jungkook’s cock. “No condom?” Jungkook breathes and Seokjin shakes his head, lip caught between his teeth.
“Don’t need that. Want you to come in me.”
It takes all of Jungkook’s control not to just fuck up into him then and there. With a shaky breath, Seokjin sits down on Jungkook’s cock and winces at the stretch. Jungkook groans at the tight heat wrapping around him, feeling lightheaded as Seokjin sinks further down. For a moment they stay there, mouths open against each other’s, breath mixing as they adjust. Then Seokjin lifts himself up and sits back down, moaning quietly. Seokjin starts slowly at first, grinding more than anything, and Jungkook just lets him take it at his own pace. He smooths his hands over Seokjin’s thighs, rubbing soothingly as he mutters sweet praises. His rhythm builds, faster and faster until both of them are panting. When Jungkook plants his heels into the mattress and thrusts up, hands steadying his hips, Seokjin’s back arches beautifully, the angle perfect for Jungkook to hit the sensitive spot within relentlessly.
“Feels so good, Seokjin– fuck–”
Seokjin falls forward to kiss Jungkook, sloppy and messy, hips grinding down as Jungkook meets him thrust for thrust. When it becomes too much to keep up the kiss and Seokjin’s thighs start to shake from the strain, he pulls away to flatten his palms on Jungkook’s chest for leverage, riding him deep, a string of Jungkook and curses spilling from his lips.
“Close,” Jungkook mutters and Seokjin leans down once more so that Jungkook can bite his shoulder. Seokjin comes suddenly with a silent scream and Jungkook thrusts just twice more before he’s falling over the edge with a desperate cry of Seokjin’s name.
Seokjin falls limp on him, riding out his orgasm as Jungkook goes soft in him. When he pulls off and collapses to the bed beside Jungkook, he maneuvers them so that Seokjin is on his back and he’s over him again, chest to chest. “Are you good for another round?” Jungkook asks softly and it takes a minute for Seokjin to nod, whimpering at the overstimulation when Jungkook reaches down to wrap his hand around both of their cocks and jerk them off together.
It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to get hard again and he kisses Seokjin all over – his eyelids, his forehead, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his mouth – before fucking back into him. The heat is still dizzying and he thrusts forward, slow and deep, until Seokjin is hard again, panting as he pushes his hips down to meet Jungkook’s.
“Fuck, I love you so much,” Jungkook says, leaning in to lick at the shell of Seokjin’s ear and bite at his earlobe.
“Me too– love you, too,” Seokjin says, breathless.
Jungkook angles his hips just so and Seokjin moans when Jungkook hits his prostate, hands scrambling at Jungkook’s back, nails scraping against his skin. “ Touch me,” Seokjin cries, legs wrapping around his waist to egg him on. Jungkook wraps his hand around Seokjin’s cock, pumping in time with his thrusts.
“I’m close,” Seokjin murmurs, throwing his head back and exposing the long line of his neck. Jungkook dips down to mouth at it, scraping his teeth along his Adam’s apple.
“Wait for me, Seokjin, let’s come together,” Jungkook says and Seokjin whimpers in response.
Jungkook pushes in harder and Seokjin whimpers endlessly, so close to coming again. He squeezes his eyes shut, aroused beyond belief. “Wanna come,” he says but Jungkook just kisses him silent, hips snapping forward faster.
“Just a little more, Jin, I’m almost there.” Seokjin nods, inhaling sharply when Jungkook interlaces their fingers. By the time Jungkook is telling him, “Come for me,” Seokjin has tears in the corners of his eyes, and they hit their release together with one last thrust. Jungkook falls limp against Seokjin’s frame, breathing raggedly into Seokjin’s cheek.
It takes several moments for the post-orgasm haze to fade enough that Jungkook feels like he can move. Seokjin watches with hooded eyes as Jungkook pulls on his sweats and wipe off the come on his stomach before disappearing to grab a damp towel. When he comes back, he wipes Seokjin down and tucks him into bed properly.
“Get in here,” Seokjin says, shifting over and looking pointedly at Jungkook. He kicks off his sweats and is only too willing to climb in next to Seokjin, pulling him in close and burying his nose in the curve of his neck. Their legs tangle and Seokjin throws a hand over Jungkook’s waist, fingers tapping beats into his skin.
There are things they need to talk about but Jungkook is content to put it all aside for this moment, enjoying the light, fluttery kisses that Seokjin is littering over his collarbones. “You’re sadistic, aren’t you? I can’t believe I came three times. Without trouble.” Seokjin mutters and Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “My ass is going to kill tomorrow. We have practice, you jackass,” he continues.
“You didn’t enjoy it?”
Seokjin whacks him weakly. “Not the point.”
“So you did enjoy it. I think maybe you’re just a masochist,” Jungkook jokes, brushing away the stringy hair sticking to Seokjin’s forehead.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Jungkook smiles, quick to oblige. “Okay.”