Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jungkook first spies Namjoon at his father's office building.

He's leaving his father's office, up on the top floor, when he spots the man at the receptionist's desk, checking in for a meeting. Jungkook freezes as soon as he catches sight of Namjoon, taking in the image of broad shoulders and blond hair and fancy suit and Daddy. He bites his lower lip, considering the older man as arousal sparks in his gut, hot and wanting, before he prowls forward, sidling up alongside the reception desk.

"Irene," Jungkook purrs, leaning across the desk. "My father says you're free to send in his new client for their meeting." Before the receptionist can say anything, Jungkook turns his attention on the man at the desk, cocking his head to the side, teeth dragging along his lower lip, as he blatantly checks out the man in front of him, gaze dragging from his feet, all the way up to his face. "Which I'm assuming is you."

"Kim Namjoon," the man says quietly, and holds out a hand. Jungkook's smirk widens, and he takes it, shaking Namjoon's hand. His grip is firm, his hand warm and big and just the right kind of rough, and Jungkook's arousal simmers in his gut, a rolling boil underneath his skin. "And you are?"

"Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook."

The disinterest on Namjoon's face burns in Jungkook's stomach, and he has to fight to keep his upper lip from curling. His eyes narrow slightly, as he considers the man in front of him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jungkook," Namjoon says, as he releases Jungkook's hand. "Take care." He steps around him, heading towards the office door. Jungkook's jaw clenches, as he turns to watch Namjoon go, unable to tear his eyes away from the way that his ass looks in his slacks. Namjoon looks like he's all muscle underneath his suit, and Jungkook can very vividly imagine how it would feel to be pinned underneath that broad, big, muscular body.

"Irene," Jungkook murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off of Namjoon until the office door closes behind him, "how long is he supposed to be in there with my father?"

"An hour," she says, barely glancing away from her computer screen when she answers. "And before you ask, no, I can't give you his number. Your father would fire me."

Jungkook presses his lips together, considering. "Any chance you know if he's single?"

Irene shoots him a look. "He's not wearing a wedding band, if that's what you want to know. But generally, Jungkook, my small talk with your father's clients doesn't include their relationship status." Jungkook huffs through his nose, then glances down at his watch. "Don't you have a hookup to be running off to, Jungkook?"

"What, you think I'm some kind of whore, Irene? I do more than just sleep around, you know."

"Mhm," Irene hums. "I'm sure you do."

Jungkook's eyes narrow, and he shoves his phone into the back pocket of his skinny jeans. "Rude," he says, and Irene smiles blandly at him, as he turns away from the desk, and walks quickly to the elevator.

He can still feel the ghost of Namjoon's touch on his hand, his palm tingling with it. He wants that man's hands on him, wants to know what Namjoon looks like, sounds like, when he's riled up and aroused. Wants to feel Namjoon's rough palms on his hips, wants to know what his cock looks like, wants to feel all of that muscle underneath his hands.

He's going to get his hands on Namjoon, if it's the last thing he does.

"Alright, Jungkook," he says to himself, staring into the rearview mirror in his car. "You can do this. You can get anyone, you know that. You've got the face, you've got the body, there's no way in hell that Namjoon can resist you." He grabs his tube of lipgloss, dabbing a little bit more onto his mouth, examining his pout in the mirror. "You got two of the hottest models in the country in your bed in ten minutes flat, the nation's biggest rapper let you fuck him in the bathroom at a club, some snooty office worker should be nothing. You can do this."

He grabs his handbag, then drops his lipgloss inside, running his fingers through his hair. Jungkook gets out of his car, slamming the door shut behind him, then locks the doors, and heads towards the office building. He's wearing his best pair of skinny jeans, the ones that show off his ass, his narrow waist, and his shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest, showing off his chest muscles—the ones that Jimin and Taehyung half-jokingly call his tits.

Jungkook heads up to his father's office, and lingers in the waiting area. Irene gives him an exasperated, knowing look, but doesn't say a word, as Jungkook takes a seat on one of the couches. He crosses one leg over the other, and pulls out his phone, scrolling mindlessly.

When he hears the office door open, his gaze snaps up, and he spots Namjoon. He gets to his feet, aiming for casual, as he walks to the office. "Namjoon-ssi," he says quietly, not looking up from his phone until he's within reach of Namjoon. He holds out a hand for Namjoon to shake, not missing the way that Namjoon's jaw clenches with irritation. "Good to see you again."

Namjoon shakes his hand, grip tighter today than it had been last time. "Jungkook-ssi," he says mildly, and Jungkook's gaze snaps up to his, a wicked smirk curling across his face. He can't ignore the way that Namjoon's gaze dips down to his chest, then back up, jaw tense. "Your father is waiting for you."

Jungkook smiles at him, then reaches out to pat his cheek. "Thank you for letting me know," he purrs, fingers trailing slowly off of Namjoon's jaw. "I'll see you around, Namjoon-ssi."

Namjoon snorts quietly. "I wouldn't count on it, Jungkook." He releases Jungkook, then steps around him, heading to the elevators. Jungkook holds still for a moment, considering, before he follows Namjoon, sliding into the elevator after him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"I thought you had to meet with your father, Jungkook."

Jungkook grins at him. "He can wait. I want to talk to you." He leans against the elevator doors, gaze dragging up the length of Namjoon's body again, lingering on his thighs, his chest. "I find you significantly more interesting."

"Can't say I feel the same," Namjoon says drily, but Jungkook can see something in his eyes, something angry, undercut with arousal. "I really don't think you're that interesting."

"Liar," Jungkook drawls. "We both know that's not true." Namjoon's jaw clenches, and Jungkook smiles wickedly. "What do you wanna do, huh? Wanna throw me over your lap and spank me?"

"Maybe I should," Namjoon says quietly, and Jungkook shivers at the intensity of his voice. "Maybe that would knock some manners into you."

Jungkook grins, biting his lower lip. Namjoon's gaze drops to his mouth, and Jungkook runs his hand through his hair, chuckling when Namjoon meets his gaze again. "You want to," Jungkook coos softly. "You want to put me over your knee and beat some respect into me." He prowls forward, sets a hand on Namjoon's chest, and pushes him back against the wall. "I want you to."

Namjoon pushes Jungkook away from him without a word, and Jungkook huffs, a moment before the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Namjoon steps past him, leaving Jungkook in the elevator as he heads out to the parking garage. Jungkook watches him go, as the elevator doors begin to close, and he smiles to himself.

Yeah, he's gonna get his hands on Namjoon, no matter what he has to do.

"Taehyung," Jungkook murmurs, turning his head so Taehyung can press a kiss to his temple. "I'm pretty, right?"

"Yes, lovely," Taehyung says softly. "You're very pretty, almost as pretty as me." He kisses his forehead, then wraps an arm around Jungkook, pulling him against his chest. "Seokjin-hyung and I both think so, you know that." Seokjin makes a low noise, then rolls over, wrapping both arms around Jungkook and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "Why do you ask?"

Jungkook huffs quietly. "No reason," he says, avoiding Taehyung's gaze. Seokjin snorts against his shoulder, then squeezes his waist, snuggling up against him. "I just... there's this guy."

"Oh?" Taehyung says, setting a hand on Jungkook's jaw and coaxing his head back, their gazes locking. "Our Jungkookie has found someone new to play with?"

Jungkook laughs breathlessly, shoving weakly at Taehyung's chest. He's still exhausted from the intensity of his orgasm earlier; both of the models had had their mouths on his cock, practically making out with each other with his cock in between their mouths. "He's... it's complicated."

"Which is code for 'Jungkook couldn't seduce him in two seconds and he's having a crisis about his skills," Seokjin murmurs against the back of his neck. "I highly doubt that you've lost your touch, Jungkook; he might just be stubborn. Give it time, no one can resist your charms, not even me."

Jungkook can't help but laugh, before he turns, to look at Seokjin. "That's what I keep telling myself, hyung, but he's... I mean, he's giving me nothing. It's all clenched jaw and dragon eyes, and then nothing."

"How many times has this happened, hm?"

Jungkook frowns, considering. "I mean, he's been my father's client for about two months, and I've seen him every week since, so... what, nine, ten times? I just... don't understand what makes him tick. I know that he wants to put his hands on me, but he won't, because he works with my father, and he thinks I'm a dumb kid."

"You are a dumb kid," Seokjin murmurs against his neck. "But you're smart enough to know what you want. And you're more than smart enough to get this guy to give you what you want." He squeezes Jungkook’s waist one more time, then releases him, and rolls away, rising from the bed. “Can I get either of you anything to drink? Or eat?”

Jungkook shakes his head, as he releases Taehyung, running his fingers through his hair. Even now, even after a threesome with his two hottest friends and two incredible, shaking orgasms, all he can do is burn with annoyance at the way that Namjoon’s treated him. He could have been sitting in that hunk of muscle’s lap, split open on his cock, sucking marks into the broad line of his shoulders, but Namjoon’s decided to make Jungkook’s life difficult.

“Kook-ah,” Taehyung murmurs, reaching out for him, running his fingers through the mess of cum on Jungkook’s stomach. “Wanna come shower with me?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers, then sits up. He lets Taehyung lead him into the bathroom, and under the spray of warm water, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist, and setting his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder. “You really think I can do it?”

“Jungkook, I think you can do anything you set your mind to,” Taehyung says, then turns to look at Jungkook. He examines him for a moment, before he speaks again. “You got me and Seokjin into your bed, once upon a time. Hell, you got Yoongi-hyung too. You can get anyone. Whoever this guy is, if he’s into men, he’s into you.” Taehyung grins at him, then ruffles Jungkook’s hair. He pokes Jungkook’s stomach, just to watch his abs tense. “I mean, look at you. You look like a Greek god, Kook-ah, there’s no way he’s not attracted to you.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Just do your thing.”

Jungkook is getting restless.

It’s been three months since he met Namjoon, and he’s made no progress on getting this absolute Daddy of a man to fuck him. He’s tried everything, every trick in his playbook, and nothing’s worked, nothing has made a dent in Namjoon’s tough, sexy demeanor.

He’s hooked up with Taehyung and Seokjin on a couple of occasions, just to take the edge off. He’s called some other hookups, for the exact same reason, but he can’t stop thinking about Namjoon’s hands, and Namjoon’s hands on him. He wants those big, beautiful, work-rough hands on his skin, gripping him, squeezing him.

Late one night, he’s scrolling through one of his dating apps, absently searching for someone to sate his appetite. He’s not expecting anything, so he’s only half paying attention to what he’s seeing on the screen. His free hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking lazily, not even chasing an orgasm.

And then his phone pings, and Jungkook snaps to attention.

It’s from another dating app, this one intended for sugar babies looking for sugar daddies. He hasn’t touched it in a good, long while, because he’d long since burned through all of his available options on the app.

It’s on a whim that he clicks the notification that’s popped up. The app opens, pulling up a list of new sugar daddies for Jungkook to peruse.

And he freezes, going totally still on the bed, staring at the screen of his phone.

Because there’s no mistaking those dark, intense, dragon eyes.

Jungkook swallows hard, then clicks on Namjoon’s profile, hand releasing his dick. There’s a small collection of pictures, and he clicks through them absently, arousal simmering low in his gut once again. Namjoon is hot, Jungkook already knew that, and the suits that he’s wearing in his pictures only serve to make Jungkook’s fantasies more vivid. His fingers curl into a fist, when he clicks to the last image, and Namjoon’s dark, intense, terrifying gaze hits like a punch in the face.

Fuck.

Fuck, he’s so gorgeous. His eyes burn through Jungkook, almost like he’s sitting right in front of him, fixing him with that critical look.

He should have seen it coming. Everything about Namjoon screamed sugar daddy, in hindsight. Jungkook swallows again, mouth suddenly dry, and he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck,” he says softly, then reaches for his cock again. He wraps his fingers around it, stroking quickly, smearing precum down the length of it, digging his thumb into the slit at the head. “Fuck.”

When he cums, he plants his heels in the mattress, and arches backwards, crying out. Cum spills over his fingers, dripping down onto his wrist, and he squeezes his eyes shut, letting the phantom feeling of Namjoon’s hands on him burn through him as he rides out his orgasm. He wants Namjoon’s hands on his skin, wants to be tossed over his thick thighs and spanked until he cries.

“Daddy,” Jungkook sighs, staring at the picture of Namjoon. “I’ll fucking get your hands on me.”

Jungkook startles when he sees the little green dot pop up beside Namjoon’s name, indicating that he’s online. He swallows hard, biting his lower lip.

He really shouldn’t message Namjoon. He really, really shouldn’t.