Archive of Our Own

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Jungkook really doesn't want to be at this party. He’s been awake for over 36 hours and all he really wants to do is flop onto his bed and pass out for at least a day but Jimin had pouted. Jungkook’s only weakness is pretty pouty lips and his best friend is a goddamn professional.

So he’s there, leaning against the kitchen counter with a plastic cup of beer in one hand and his phone in the other. And if anyone asks, he is not scrolling through his ex’s instagram. He’s also definitely not clicking through to Mingyu’s tagged photos. He really hasn’t been doing this every day since Mingyu dumped him.

  Via text, Jungkook’s brain supplies as he opens the most recent photo. 

In it, Mingyu is wearing his glasses, the ones that always make Jungkook’s stomach flip because of how cute he looks in them. There’s another person in the photo and it’s someone that Jungkook knows. It’s someone that had been front and center in almost every single fight he and Mingyu had ever had. For the entire six months of their relationship.

Lee Seokmin. Mingyu’s best friend. 

The man that Mingyu told him over and over he didn’t have to worry about.

 Jungkook knew he had been right but seeing their fingers tangled together, seeing the way they looked at one another, still hurt.

Throwing back the rest of his beer, Jungkook tosses his empty cup and slips into the living room. He finds an empty corner to hover in before swiping out of Instagram and opening his messaging app.

Jungkook : i was right

Jungkook : they’re together

He can see Jimin from across the room, on the couch between Taehyung and Yoongi, both of them with a hand resting on one of his knees. He looks down at his phone when he sees Jimin pull his phone out.

Jimin : at least now you know for sure

Jimin : now please stop stalking his ig and try to enjoy yourself

Jungkook: 🤨🤨🤨

Jimin : please, koo

Jungkook: fine but i’m doing this for you, not me

Jimin: …thank you?

Jungkook: 😠 you’re welcome 😠

Of course, the moment Jungkook pockets his phone and looks around, Mingyu walks through the front door. And, of course, Seokmin is with him.  

Fuck, Jungkook thinks. His heart is in his throat and his feet are frozen in place on the faded carpet. His eyes dart from where Mingyu and Seokmin are talking to some random girl to his best friend. 

Jimin's lips that just an hour ago were pulled into a perfect pout are pressed tightly to Yoongi's. The other man is holding Jimin by the throat with one hand, long fingers curled against tan skin, and the elbow with his other. There's a third hand, fingers buried in the shiny strands of Jimin's dark hair. It takes Jungkook far too long to realize that Yoongi does not, in fact, have three hands. No, those fingers belong to Taehyung who is watching the two kiss with heavy-lidded eyes, bottom lip caught between teeth.

Jungkook is happy for his friend. Really, he is. Because holy shit, that's hot as fuck. But he also really wishes that Jimin didn't currently have a tongue down his throat because he needs him.

Needs him because Jungkook does not do well under pressure. He can feel the panic clawing at his chest, stealing his breath as his gaze flickers back to his ex-boyfriend. The way he sees it, there are only two options for him here - interrupt the threesome on the couch or leave. Either way, Jimin is going to be upset. He would much rather get out of here while Jimin is distracted and deal with the aftermath later.

Scanning the room, Jungkook routes out his escape. If he’s quick, he should be gone in less than five minutes. He just has to wait until the couple blocking the entrance step the rest of the way into the room and then he can -

The moment he sees his opening, Jungkook pushes away from the wall. He doesn’t let himself look away from his target, shoulders bunched up until they’re nearly touching his ears as he veers around partygoers and side-steps past unfortunately placed furniture. He’s almost there. The front door was left open and he can feel the cool night air seeping into the packed room.

A few more steps and he’ll be out of the living room, standing on the front porch beneath the fairy lights strung across the wood. His shoulders drop, relief coursing through his body.

And then he’s colliding with what can only be another person, warm and sturdy and unexpected enough that he starts to fall backward.

Jungkook knows the moment he hits the floor, Mingyu and his new boyfriend are going to notice him. Everyone in this room is going to notice him. All he can do now is put his hands behind his head in an attempt to protect it and hope for the best.

With his eyes scrunched shut and body tensed in anticipation, it takes Jungkook a moment to realize he isn’t falling anymore.

Instead, there is a firm arm around his back, broad hand cupping his waist. The chatter in the room continues on, uninterrupted beneath the thrum of music, and the scent of jasmine and citrus is overwhelming Jungkook’s senses.

“Are you okay?” A voice as smooth as honey flits in the space between them, laced with concern and sending a shiver of something down Jungkook’s spine.

He knows that voice, the bassy one that entices him to finally open his eyes.

“There you are,” Kim Namjoon says, cheeks dimpling with a soft smile. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Feeling slightly dazed, Jungkook shakes his head.

He instantly regrets the movement because that smile grows, flashing white teeth and a peak of pink tongue between them, and his heart hurts.

“Good,” Namjoon’s honeyed voice rumbles, sending another shot of that something through Jungkook’s body.

The truth is Jungkook knows what that something is just as well as he knows the man still holding him up. Kim Namjoon is the editor of the university newspaper, the top of his class and the subject of a painfully unrequited crush that Jungkook developed freshman year. The moment he had seen the man, striding into the storage closet that had been turned into the meeting room for the newspaper, Jungkook’s heart had skipped a beat and it hadn’t gone away in the one year and five months that had passed.

The whole reason Jungkook had even started dating Mingyu was to move on from this ridiculous crush. Jimin had told him it was a bad idea. ‘Why don’t you try actually talking to Namjoon?’ Jimin had asked. As if it were that easy. The older man hardly knew that Jungkook existed outside of the photographs he submitted to the newspaper for the articles he and Jimin worked on together. There was no hope. Besides, Mingyu had been insistent in his pursuit. Not to mention he was hot as fuck .

If only he had listened to Jimin all those months ago. He wouldn’t be here, trying to hide from his ex-boyfriend in the middle of a party he didn’t even want to be at. He wouldn’t be standing in the threshold of some random frat house, wondering when his hands had dropped to Namjoon’s forearms and why they were still clinging to one another.

“Jungkook?”

That voice did not belong to the man still holding onto Jungkook, head tilted with worry because Jungkook had just disappeared into his head. No, that was the voice of the last person Jungkook wanted to speak to.

“No no no,” he groans, letting his head fall forward, inadvertently bringing himself closer to Namjoon. He squeezes his eyes shut again, refusing to look at either of the men causing him such turmoil tonight.

“What is it?” Namjoon asks, giving Jungkook’s side a gentle squeeze as if to remind the younger man that he was still there.

As if Jungkook could forget, with the warm band of an arm around his waist.

Wait a second, Jungkook thinks.

His eyes snap open as the idea fully forms in his mind. The one that is either the best or the worst idea Jungkook has ever had in his entire life. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, not when he can hear his name being called again, this time closer.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Jungkook says, using his hold on Namjoon’s arms to pull him in closer. Their eyes lock together and Jungkook wishes he had time to dissect the flutter of emotion in Namjoon’s gaze. “Please just go along with it, okay?”

When Mingyu calls Jungkook’s name again, Namjoon’s gaze flicks over his shoulder and back again, subtly nodding his agreement. His cheeks dimple, sending butterflies skittering through Jungkook’s stomach. Those butterflies swarm into a frenzy when Namjoon’s eyes drop to his mouth, his heart thumping a staccato beat in his chest as the older man’s tongue flits out to wet his bottom lip.

Jungkook would be lying if he said he had never imagined what it would be like to kiss Namjoon. In fact, he had imagined doing a lot more than just kissing the older man. There had been many nights since that first day when he had fisted his cock and imagined Namjoon’s long fingers in their place, pictured Namjoon’s plump mauve lips pressing kisses into his skin. In all of those fantasies, he had never once thought about kissing Namjoon in an attempt to avoid his ex-boyfriend at a frat party.

Every single thought in his mind evaporates as those plush lips find his own.

Namjoon’s lips are so fucking soft and Jungkook can’t catch his breath. Not when his bottom lip is caught so firmly and not when he feels the light pressure of tongue, slick and warm and that is Namjoon’s tongue. His lips part on a gasp as the older man pulls him closer. The hand that isn’t around his waist finds his chin, applying just enough force to tilt his head up until Namjoon is licking his way into Jungkook’s mouth as they stand chest to chest.

Time passes. Jungkook is sure it does but he has no idea how much, doesn’t really care how much. He just doesn’t want this kiss to end.

But it does and he can’t help the whine that escapes him as Namjoon pulls away.

“Fuck,” Namjoon’s voice is husky and so quiet that Jungkook knows he’s the only one who can hear just how wrecked the man sounds. He swallows roughly and Jungkook’s eyes catch on the way his throat bobs with the movement.

The older man parts his lips to say something else but stops when Jungkook’s name is called again, this time from right beside the both of them. Long fingers twitch against his side as Jungkook turns to look at Mingyu.

It’s just his luck that kissing another man in a crowded room didn’t deter his ex from making his way over. Just his luck that it had to be the best kiss of his entire life and it was one he had forced the other person into. Just his luck that he could feel his dick, half hard and pressing against Namjoon’s thigh.

He can feel it when his control snaps, exhaustion making his hold on it weak, but before the words can leave his throat, Namjoon is turning his head, arched brow and annoyed expression pointed toward Mingyu now.

“What do you want?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook swears he pulls him tighter against his chest as he looks Mingyu up and down. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

Mingyu scoffs audibly and when Jungkook manages to pull his eyes away from Namjoon’s profile, he finds his ex-boyfriend watching them with arms crossed over his chest. Jungkook knows exactly what he’s going to say before the words even leave his mouth.

“I should have known it would be him,” Mingyu says, his words causing Namjoon to tense up.

But they have the opposite effect on Jungkook. Instead of freezing him up like he thought they would, the words loosen something in his chest and in his throat.

Mingyu found out about his crush on Namjoon exactly one week after the two of them officially started dating. He proceeded to bring it up anytime Jungkook voiced how uncomfortable the relationship Mingyu had with Seokmin made him. If there was one thing Mingyu was good at it was using Jungkook’s guilt against him. Guilt for crushing on someone he didn’t know while he had a boyfriend. Guilt for being unable to push those feelings down. Guilt for bringing up the way Seokmin touched Mingyu when they were all hanging out together and how it made him feel.

Now, all Jungkook feels is annoyed. Annoyed that the best kiss of his life got interrupted. Annoyed that he’s at this fucking party. Annoyed that his ex-boyfriend doesn’t know how to take a hint.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Jungkook tells him. “Shouldn’t you get back to your date?”

To drive the point home, he leans to the side, pulling Namjoon with him, to look over Mingyu’s shoulder. Refusing to think about how easily Namjoon goes, Jungkook’s eyes snag on Seokmin, frowning at them over his phone while he pretends he isn’t watching every movement and word passed between lips. Jungkook can see the moment he realizes he’s been caught, eyes widening as they meet Jungkook’s across the room. His attention quickly returns to his phone but Jungkook can see the red of his cheeks even from here.

Mingyu and Jungkook look away from Seokmin and back to one another at the same time. Mingyu is looking at Jungkook like he’s never seen him before. And honestly, Jungkook gets it. He doesn’t feel very much like himself right now. Not in a bad way. It’s just that he doesn’t normally stand his ground like this, preferring to avoid confrontation over anything else. Pair that with being tired and having absolutely no desire to be here right now, it was the perfect concoction for a different version of Jungkook to emerge.

Tipping his head forward into Mingyu’s space, Jungkook lowers his voice like he’s telling the other man a secret. Instead, he says, “See you later, Mingyu-ssi.”

A dismissal that has Mingyu’s shoulders slumping and Namjoon covering a very obvious laugh behind a cough. Jungkook watches as Mingyu makes his way back across the room to Seokmin. It doesn’t take long for the two of them to fall into a very heated discussion and Jungkook can’t help but wish he was close enough to hear the earful that Seokmin must have been giving his ex-boyfriend.

He must zone out again because Namjoon is clearing his throat, the sound vibrating between them, in an obvious attempt to get his attention. As he comes back to himself, he feels Namjoon’s fingers tapping a slow beat against his side.

“Sorry, what?” Jungkook turns his head and finds his breath yet again caught in his throat, heart plummeting to the soles of his feet, when he finds Namjoon gazing at him intently, a faint smile on his lips.

“I should have known it would be him.” Namjoon is repeating Mingyu’s words from just a moment before. The very ones that Jungkook had hoped would be ignored.

He’s quiet, watching Jungkook, before he asks, “That’s what he said, isn’t it?”

“I have to go,” Jungkook says, pushing against Namjoon’s arms until the older man releases him. With space between them, Jungkook feels like he can finally breathe. “Thanks for your help.”

He barely makes it two steps before Namjoon calls out his name, stopping him in his tracks. It isn’t the tone of his voice that does it, even though that definitely plays a part in it because that honey voice says it like it’s an order. No, it’s the fact that he said Jungkook’s name at all. And isn’t that kind of pathetic? Jungkook didn’t realize that Namjoon knew his name. Didn’t think he would bother to remember it or put a face to it even though they see one another on a semi-regular basis.

“What did he mean?” Namjoon asks and he’s closer now, a wave of heat along Jungkook’s back. His breath whispers against the skin at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, rustling dark hair and sending a shiver down his spine.

When he doesn’t say anything, fingers slide against his own, tugging until he turns around again. His eyes meet Namjoon’s and he hopes the dim light in the room hides the red filling his cheeks as Namjoon steps closer,

“Are you going to say anything?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. The truth is embarrassing. And he’s never been good at lying. His eyes give him away; that’s what his mom always told him.

He shakes his head and Namjoon hums in thought. He glances around the room and then over his shoulder toward the foyer. Jungkook can see that the front door is still open but that isn’t where Namjoon’s focus goes. Jungkook easily follows his eyes to the stairs leading up to the second floor of the frat house.

“Come with me,” the older man says finally, giving Jungkook’s hand a gentle squeeze.

All Jungkook can do is follow. He doesn’t have it in him to protest. Instead, he grips Namjoon’s fingers loosely and keeps his gaze trained on the strands of blonde hair curling against tan skin. Voices rise and fall as they pass and Jungkook wonders at the sight they must make, Namjoon with his broad shoulders and Jungkook with his cheeks still burning.

Does everyone think we’re… He stops the thought before it can fully form.

Namjoon leads him up a set of stairs, the wood creaking beneath their feet. The older man pulls him to the side to let a handful of people pass, their bodies so close Jungkook can feel his warm breath fanning his face, before continuing until they reach the landing. Jungkook hasn’t been up here yet but he knows there’s a bathroom behind one of these closed doors.

It’s clear that Namjoon has been here before from the way he leads Jungkook with ease. He knows exactly where he’s going. Halfway down the hall, he stops in front of a door and raises his free hand to rap his knuckles against the pressed wood. When there isn’t a response from the other side, Namjoon pushes the door open and tugs until Jungkook is shuffling in behind him. The door shuts behind them with a soft snick, barely audible over the thump of music through the floor.

A bathroom. That’s where Namjoon brought him. They’re standing on black and white tile, a mirror and sink to the right, a couple of shower stalls to the left and a toilet on the opposite side of the room. It’s much too small to be the only bathroom in the house, considering how many guys have to be living here, members of this fraternity that Jungkook doesn’t know the name of. Faintly, he’s wondering how exactly they manage to make it work. Maybe they have a schedule. Maybe there are suites with private bathrooms somewhere in the house.

“Jungkook.”

His head snaps up, eyes finding Namjoon easily. The man is standing right in front of him. So much closer than Jungkook expected him to be. He takes a step back and then another, unaware of when he made the conscious decision to move. Heavy-lidded dark eyes watch him as he goes. Until Jungkook runs into the counter. He has nowhere else to go.

“Now that we’re alone,” Namjoon starts, tipping his head to the side as he lets his eyes trail down from Jungkook’s face and back up again. When their eyes meet again, Namjoon asks, “What did Mingyu mean?”

“I- I, uh…” Jungkook stutters, fingers gripping laminated wood. Humiliation fills his body from head to toe, surely leaving a red flush behind. There’s no hiding it here, not with how bright the lights around the mirror are, chasing away shadows and leaving nothing but pink cheeks and a dimpled smile.

“I don’t-,” he starts again but stops abruptly, the lie poised on the tip of his tongue fizzling away to nothing, when Namjoon shakes his head.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Namjoon tells him. “Not if it’s what I think it is.”

At that, Jungkook pauses. Because what ? But he must take too long because Namjoon’s voice is washing over him again, stern in a way that has heat pooling in Jungkook’s stomach. Heat that has nothing to do with feeling humiliated. At all.

“Tell me,” he says quietly and Jungkook’s mouth feels dry.

“I used to have a crush on you,” Jungkook says finally.

Still a lie. Clearly there is no ‘used to’ - not with the way Jungkook’s dick is stirring with interest at how close they are in this tiny bathroom and the way his lips still tingle with the ghost of Namjoon’s kiss, the way his heart is beating like crazy, the way he has never wanted anything in his life as much as he wants to push Namjoon against the door and kiss him again.

“Used to?” Namjoon asks, quirking a brow. The twist of his lips tells Jungkook that he caught the lie. His next words confirm it. “Don’t lie, Jungkook.”

The heat grows to an inferno inside of him. The fire from Namjoon’s gaze does little to help as it blazes higher and higher. He wants to be mad at how easily Namjoon can read him but he finds that he just can’t be. For the second time tonight, something in Jungkook snaps and the words flow out of him before he can second guess himself.

“Okay, fine. I have a crush on you.” His grip on the counter tightens as he dips his head to look at the basically non-existent space between them. “I have since like, the second I saw you with your stupid glasses and your stupid messenger bag. And when my shitty ex-boyfriend found out, he used it against me. To cheat on me and lie to me for the whole six months we were together. That’s what Mingyu meant, when he said he should have known it would be you, okay?”

The silence that fills the bathroom is heavy, despite the fact that it wasn’t a very quiet one with the music and voices filtering up from downstairs. Jungkook thinks a new round of beer pong must have just started, if the cacophony of cheers is anything to go by. That sound alone makes him feel like he and Namjoon are in another world up here, another dimension even.

Maybe it’s just him, though.

Namjoon hasn’t said anything. Hasn’t made even the smallest movement or sound.

Maybe this isn’t what he thought it would be , Jungkook thinks and finally, he lets himself look at Namjoon again.

“There you are,” Namjoon says, an echo of what he’d said earlier when they had collided. Just like before, he is smiling. Soft and endeared and Jungkook is so weak for the way the man’s cheek dimples with it. “Jungkook, I like you, too.”

“You do?” Jungkook’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Yes," Namjoon tells him and then he reaches out, finger grazing Jungkook’s cheek. “I do.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, unable to keep his insecurities to himself with the way that Namjoon is peering at him, like he can see down to the depths of his soul. He shuffles his weight from one foot to the other and back again as he frowns. “You don’t even know me.”

“Not as much as I’d like to.”

Jungkook makes a sound, somewhere between a choked off whine and a whimper.

“The sounds you make…” Stopping himself from saying anything more, Namjoon sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes flit to Jungkook’s mouth. Just as quickly, his eyes dart away, lips curling into a frown.

“This isn’t why I kissed you,” Jungkook tells him. He releases his hold on one side of the counter and reaches for Namjoon, hand dropping before it makes contact with the black sweater stretched across his chest. “I wasn’t trying to- I didn’t want- I didn’t expect anything from you.”

He’s trying so hard not to be distracted but god is it hard. Namjoon’s lips are so pink in the light of the bathroom as he parts them, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. His sweater is hugging his shoulders and chest in the best way, reminding Jungkook of all the texts Jimin had sent him, teasing him endlessly about his crush on the older man. ( Out for a run and I passed the quad. Who even sweats that much? Take your boyfriend to the doctor. Jimin had texted him, following up with a slightly blurry photo of Namjoon wearing a tank-top that hid absolutely nothing, not the peaks of his nipples or the lines of his chest or the curve of his waist. And of course Jimin was right. Namjoon sweated so much .)

“I know, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s voice brought him back to the here and now. The older man had a sincere expression on his face as he peered down at Jungkook. ( Has he always been so tall ? Jungkook thinks.) “I’m not expecting anything from you either, just so you know. I’m just relieved to hear that you feel the same way. To be able to voice all of the things I’ve kept to myself.”

The same way. The things I’ve kept to myself. The words play on a loop in Jungkook’s head as his other hand drops to his side.

He can say with complete honesty that he never expected this. Especially not tonight. Or ever, really. He had never even considered it a possibility.

Namjoon feels the same way, he thinks, testing it out. Kim Namjoon likes me.

“What things?” Jungkook croaks and then cringes at the way his voice sounds as it leaves his dry mouth. He swallows, licks his lips and tries again. “What things have you kept to yourself?”

“Do you want me to tell you?” Namjoon comes closer until the toes of their shoes are touching and then he reaches out, a single finger finding Jungkook’s bottom lip and tracing it in a slow line. “Or do you want me to show you? Hmm?”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. Briefly, he wonders if it will always be like this when he’s with Namjoon. Breathless and intense and so fuckin’ hot when they haven’t even done anything yet. Yet. (And he’s not complaining, really. He’s just trying to prepare himself for the future.)

A low sound rumbles in the older man’s chest and throat with Jungkook’s next word.

“Both.”

The space between them disappears as Namjoon grabs for him. Hands are in Jungkook’s hair, long fingers tangling with dark strands, moments before Namjoon’s lips find his.

This kiss is different from their first. This kiss is both exactly what he thought his first kiss with Namjoon would be like and somehow so much better . Namjoon’s lips are soft and sweet as they slide against his. The two of them only part for soft sighs and flicks of tongue, each deliberate movement driving Jungkook absolutely insane .

Namjoon guides him, his hands cupping the back of Jungkook’s head, fingers pressing firmly against his scalp. Uses his hold to tilt Jungkook’s head to the left. Licks his way into Jungkook’s mouth and doesn’t stop even when Jungkook is panting, hot breath puffing across their cheeks with each whine that claws its way from his throat.

Jungkook has never felt this way from a kiss. But then again, he’s also never kissed someone like Namjoon, someone he felt this intensely about from just a handful of interactions and glances. His body feels like a livewire, every miniscule place that Namjoon is touching him burning . He is moments from combustion when Namjoon pulls away, just enough to tip their foreheads together.

“Do you know,” Namjoon starts and his voice is so husky. Aside from the way his chest heaves, it's the only sign that he was affected at all by their kiss. He licks his lips and keeps going. “You have a habit of touching your mouth? You pull on your bottom lip, lick at your piercing when you’re focusing. Do you have any idea how distracting it is? How difficult it is to not get hard when I’m standing in front of the entire team and you’re sitting there with your pretty pink lips glistening with spit?”

What did Jungkook get himself into, saying he wanted both? 

Namjoon has only kissed him twice. Has only told him one of what seems to be many things he’s kept to himself. The thing is, Jungkook isn’t used to sexual encounters being like this. Which isn’t to say that they’ve been bad. He’s twenty-two and has had plenty of hot as fuck one night stands and incredible intimate moments with partners. (Plenty meaning only enough to count on one hand. Partners meaning two because he has only ever been in a serious relationship that included sex twice in his lifetime.)

“Are you like this with all of your sexual conquests?” Jungkook asks, those insecurities slipping through again.

“Sexual conquests?” Namjoon’s brows furrow in confusion.

Jungkook nods. “You know, all the people you’ve led to this bathroom to have your way with.”

Namjoon frowns, plush lips pulling down in a way that makes it impossible for Jungkook to think of anything but sinking his teeth into it.

“I’ve never done this before,” Namjoon admits, dropping his gaze. His hands are still in Jungkook’s hair, grip loose but Jungkook can see that his shoulders are tense. “Just tonight. Just- just with you.”

Oh. That does something to Jungkook’s heart.

(And his cock, but he’s ignoring that for the time being.)

He tips Namjoon’s chin up and smiles softly when he sees those honey brown eyes.

“I’m not going to say I’ve never done this before.” Jungkook’s voice is barely a whisper. “I get a little stupid when I drink. And horny.”

A snort of laughter from Namjoon has his smile growing.

“But this time feels different. Because it’s you.”

The smile Namjoon gives him in response is blindingly beautiful. Straight white teeth and dimples on display. He’s still smiling when he pulls Jungkook closer and kisses him again - too much teeth, a little messy and perfect .

And he finally lets himself touch Namjoon. Actually touch him, in places other than his hands and face, without holding himself back. He starts at Namjoon’s chest, practically groping the firm skin there, before letting his hands wander lower. He can feel the soft peaks of Namjoon’s nipples, hardening beneath his fingers, and practically preens at the sound Namjoon makes against his mouth.

He can’t believe he did that . Made Namjoon gasp and arch into the touch. The thought makes him feel powerful. And brave enough to keep going, to venture further down Namjoon’s torso. Until his palm finds the hard heat of Namjoon’s cock beneath worn jeans.

Moving like it’s got a mind of it’s own, his hand cups and squeezes that hard length, eliciting another groan from the older man. He can hardly believe he has kissed the object of his secret crush more than once in a single night, let alone that he’s currently touching his dick in a bathroom. He never thought he’d get this outside of his dreams.

“Your hands on me, just like this,” Namjoon grits out, lips brushing Jungkook’s with each word. “I’ve thought about this more times than I can count.”

“Me too,” Jungkook admits quietly.

Despite the hand still cupping Namjoon’s dick, he finds himself feeling a little shy in the aftermath of those words. Because holy shit , Namjoon has thought about his hands on his dick. And he probably did it while touching himself, Jungkook realizes with a new flare of desire unfurling low in his stomach.

The desire only burns brighter when Namjoon uses his grip on Jungkook’s hair to tilt the younger man’s head back, when he attaches his plush lips to the vulnerable skin of Jungkook’s neck, when he presses open-mouthed kisses along the length of it.

Pinned between the counter and Namjoon, all he can do is feel. Feel the way his quiet whines make Namjoon’s cock jump in his hand. Feel the way Namjoon’s lips and tongue slide across his skin. Feel the way his own cock becomes uncomfortably hard, straining against his jeans. Feel the way Namjoon is holding him in place, moving him as he pleases.

A wet pop echoes in the bathroom when Namjoon detaches from Jungkook’s throat.

“Look at you.” That honey voice is somehow deeper, a low vibration through the older man’s body. He kisses his way up Jungkook’s throat, tongue laving at the line of his jaw. “You’d let me do whatever I want with you, wouldn’t you? With your ex-boyfriend right under our feet.”

Jungkook whimpers, fingers flexing around the cock still in his hand, still hard despite the lack of attention it's been given.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Namjoon chuckles darkly, nipping at Jungkook’s jaw. “So do I. Honestly, I was going to ask you to come home with me but I think I’d rather have you here. How does that sound? Hmm?”

He’s giving Jungkook a chance to say no. Maybe he’s even expecting it. But there’s no way in hell Jungkook is turning him down. Everything that’s happening is straight out of his filthiest dreams.

 “Ohmygod, yes. Please.”

At that exact moment, the bathroom door rattles, knob twisting side to side as someone tries to get inside. Jungkook whips his head around to look at it, the older man’s hand falling to his shoulders with the movement. Surprisingly, the door holds.

“I locked it when we came in,” Namjoon tells him.

“Maybe we should-” Jungkook starts to suggest they relocate but Namjoon shuts him up easily. All it takes is a quick press of lips against his own and then the older man dropping to his knees right there on the bathroom floor.

The older man’s deft fingers make quick work of the button and zipper of Jungkook’s jeans. The sight of him kneeling there, tugging Jungkook’s black boxers down until the hard cock confined within them bounces free, is something that Jungkook is sure he’ll revisit in the future. Many times, if he’s being honest. Or maybe it will be the first moment Namjoon’s hands wrap around the shaft, cool compared to the warmth of his aching skin.

Attempting to keep himself quiet, Jungkook captures his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to keep the moans from slipping through.

“I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you for so long,” Namjoon says but his eyes are locked on the cock in his hand, making it seem like his words are for it and not the man attached. “You’re bigger than I thought you would be. Thicker.”

“Thanks?” Jungkook manages to get out just before Namjoon leans forward and captures the red-flushed tip of Jungkook’s cock with those plush goddamn lips . No amount of biting his lip is enough to keep the whine from escaping him. Even as Namjoon’s tongue licks at him, Jungkook can feel the dribbles of pre-cum from his cockhead. His hands find Namjoon’s head, fingers tentatively tangling soft honey blonde hair.

He wants to apologize, worries that Namjoon might be bothered by the taste and the way Jungkook is leaking like a teenager and the way he’s holding onto his head for dear life. But he can’t think straight. He can’t do anything but hope he doesn’t embarrass himself. He’s going to though. Can already feel the heat building in his gut, muscles tightening with each bob of Namjoon’s head.

“Wait wait.” Jungkook pants, chest heaving as he tugs gently on the hair between his fingers.

Namjoon hums around him, the vibration sending a wave of heat through Jungkook. Jungkook looks down, finds Namjoon peering up at him with his lips stretched obscenely around his cock. The older man arches a brow in question but doesn’t move.

“I’m-,” Jungkook pauses, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he drops his eyes from Namjoon’s intense gaze. He has to force the next words from his mouth. “I’m close.”

And he is, even now. Can feel the tight coil of his orgasm in his stomach.

Fingers tapping against his hip, firm and warm against his skin, have Jungkook turning his head back to look at Namjoon again.

The moment their eyes meet, Namjoon sinks down. Down and down and down, eyes falling closed as the head of Jungkook’s cock meets the back of his throat.

And Jungkook is tipping over the edge, spilling down Namjoon’s throat with a choked off sob.

The older man works him through it, swallowing around his sensitive cock even after Jungkook has emptied himself completely. He laves at Jungkook’s softening length with the flat of his tongue, once, twice, three times before he’s pulling off with a soft groan.

Head spinning, Jungkook drops against the counter, letting the laminated wood hold his weight as he tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t know when he closed his eyes but he doesn’t open them just yet, needing the relief of darkness as he comes down.

As he waits for his breath to even out, he can hear Namjoon moving around. A cabinet opens and closes to his left. Then a drawer and another and another, wheels squeaking as they close. Another cabinet opens and Namjoon is shuffling through whatever is contained behind the door.

Jungkook realizes the older man is searching for something just as he finds it, quietly mumbling, “Finally.”

The cabinet closes and Jungkook parts his eyes in time to watch Namjoon make his way back to him. The older man is holding something in each hand; it isn’t until he’s closer that Jungkook can see what the small items are. A condom and a travel-sized bottle of lube.

Oh.

Honestly, he had assumed they were done. Had hoped it was a for now situation after the confessions they had exchanged in the quiet of this bathroom but figured this was all for the night. Not that it wasn’t enough because, dear fucking god , it was plenty. The muscles in his abdomen were still twitching from the force of his orgasm.

But now he can see the way Namjoon's jeans are tented, impossibly hard beneath the rough fabric of his jeans. He can see the heat still in the older man’s gaze as he comes to a stop in front of Jungkook, sets the condom and lube on the counter.

“Good?” Namjoon asks, hands coming to rest on Jungkook’s neck as he holds his gaze. This close, Jungkook can see the red tinting Namjoon’s honey brown skin and realizes that Namjoon is just as affected by everything they’ve done.

When he nods, Namjoon leans forward to kiss him. He keeps it soft for just a moment before he parts Jungkook’s lips with his tongue, licking his way in. He doesn’t stop until Jungkook is whining into the kiss, until Jungkook’s spent cock twitches from where it’s nestled between them. There’s no way Namjoon didn’t feel it. And maybe that’s what he was waiting for because he pulls away just after.

Broad hands move from Jungkook’s neck to his waist, fingers gripping firmly. A warning before he’s spinning the younger man around.

Jungkook meets his own gaze in the wide mirror over the sink and sucks in a breath at what he finds in his reflection. His hair is mussed, cheeks flushed, and lips bitten red. He looks absolutely ruined. From a fuckin’ blowjob. How is he going to look once Namjoon fucks him the way he’s clearly planning to? The way Jungkook is close to begging him to.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to.

One of Namjoon’s hands press against the space between Jungkook’s shoulder blades, pushing until he’s bent over the counter, hissing at the feeling of cold laminate against his still sensitive cock. That hand traces a line down Jungkook’s back, meeting the other at the swell of Jungkook’s ass. Their eyes meet in the mirror as Namjoon reaches for the lube on the counter. And then he disappears behind Jungkook.

The older man doesn’t give him a chance to wonder at what comes next, gripping his cheeks and spreading them until his hole is exposed. He can feel Namjoon’s gaze there, the weight and heat of it sending a wave of desire straight to his dick.

“You’re so pink. Everywhere.” Namjoon’s words release a puff of breath against Jungkook’s hole, the ring of muscle fluttering from the sensation. “Your lips. Your cock. Your ass. I could just eat you up.”

A high-pitched noise fills the bathroom. It takes Jungkook far too long to realize it’s coming from him as he squirms against Namjoon’s hold. The older man doesn’t give give him any leeway,

“Next time.” The words are a promise, followed by the click of the lube bottle opening. “Next time I spread you open like this, it will be with my mouth and my tongue. Preferably in a bed so I can take my time with it.”

Jungkook is pretty sure he stops breathing; Namjoon’s filthy words and the press of a long, lube-slick finger against his hole enough to steal his next breath right from his lungs. His head is spinning, chest aching from lack of oxygen, as another finger joins the first, stretching him open with the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure.

“You have to breathe, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s voice is thick, words like syrup as they leave him. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe.”

He is trembling as he finally inhales.

“Just like that.”

His fingers slide out, until just the very tips remain inside of him. And then Namjoon is thrusting them back inside, hard enough to make Jungkook’s eyes fly open. Just in time to watch as his lips part around a sob.

Namjoon curses under his breath when Jungkook easily takes the next finger he adds. He knows what Namjoon is seeing, the way his tight hole looks when it’s stretched taut around something big, because he’s watched himself do the very same thing many many times. Just like he knows that he could handle it if Namjoon were a little rougher with the thrusts of his fingers, enjoys the pain of being stretched too fast.

He tries to tell him, is prepared to beg for Namjoon to stop being so gentle, but his mouth seems to have stopped working, spit-slick lips still hanging open.

He feels absolutely wrecked. Ruined beyond belief. He looks it too, more so than he did just moments ago. He has never been opened so slowly, so carefully .

Cold lube dribbles between his cheeks and Namjoon removes his fingers to spread it around Jungkook’s hole, taking his time to coat every inch of it and the length of his fingers. He doesn’t stop until Jungkook whines again, ass pushing back into his hold. Only then does he fuck a single finger back in, keeping the thrusts shallow and slow.

“God, look at you.” The older man’s voice is barely a whisper. The next thrust of his finger is faster, deeper, harder and he groans at the sound that sob that leaves Jungkook. “ Listen to you. I bet everyone can hear you, out in the hallway.”

He adds another finger and Jungkook is sure it’s just to hear him sob again. And he does. He sobs Namjoon’s name as his eyes water. And again as another finger pushes in with the other two. Again when those fingers thrust in, impossibly deeper. His mouth still hangs open, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Briefly, he thinks he should wipe it away. But he can’t move, fully convinced he’ll fall the moment he does.

Instead, he grips the counter tighter, squeezes his eyes shut, sobs when Namjoon’s fingers brush that elusive spot inside of him. This time, the sound that leaves him is wet. The tears that had lined his lashes, threatening to spill, now leaked from the corners of his eyes, making a lazy trail down his cheeks.

Namjoon can’t see Jungkook from where he’s kneeling in front of his ass like he’s worshiping at the altar. But he hears it, hears the change in Jungkook’s voice, and his fingers stop .

Which is not what Jungkook wants. At all.

That coil of heat is back, his cock hard and leaking against the edge of the counter. He was almost there again and now, Namjoon is removing his fingers, standing up and caressing Jungkook’s hip with his clean hand.

“Jungkook, what’s-",” Namjoon stops abruptly when his eyes catch on Jungkook’s reflection. Something akin to awe washes over his face. “You’re crying.”

Jungkook sniffles, nods, wiggles his ass until Namjoon brings his other hand down to settle him, thumb rubbing circles into his skin. The younger man stops moving and meets Namjoon’s gaze in the mirror.

“You’re beautiful.” Namjoon’s voice is damn near reverent, filling Jungkook with heat and wonder and other things he can’t put names to at the moment because he just wants to be fucked .

“Please,” Jungkook begs, a fresh wave of tears spilling down his cheeks. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

Namjoon lunges for the condom, shiny foil still waiting on the counter. Once he has it in hand, his focus shifts and Jungkook can’t help but pout. He can’t see anything like this. Can’t see as Namjoon pushes his jeans down just enough to ease his cock out. Can’t see it when Namjoon rolls the condom down his length, slicks himself up with lube, takes his cock in hand and lines himself up.

None of that matters once he feels the thick head of Namjoon’s cock against his hole.

Moans echo through the bathroom, both of them panting as Namjoon presses in, filling Jungkook in the best way possible.

The door handle rattles again.

“Come on! There’s a line out here!” A very annoyed voice filters through the door.

“There’s a line, Jungkook,” Namjoon tells him, pulling back just enough to fuck shallowly into Jungkook’s tight heat. “I wonder how many people are waiting. While you’re in here crying with my cock inside of you. Do you think Mingyu is out there, listening?”

He punctuates his sentence with another thrust, this one harder, pulling a whine from the depths of Jungkook’s throat.

“I always hoped you would be like this.” The next thrust is even harder, deeper, stealing Jungkook’s breath. He doesn’t stop as he keeps talking, gritting his teeth around the words. “Letting me fuck you where I wanted. When I wanted. Do you remember that overnight trip we took? To cover the game? I can’t tell you how many ways I thought about having you.”

The older man presses his front against Jungkook’s back. The new position brings his mouth right next to Jungkook’s ear. His voice lowers as he holds Jungkook’s gaze in the mirror.

“The backseat of that van would have been perfect for giving head without anyone knowing.” His hips stutter as he fucks into Jungkook, as if the thought alone is pushing him closer to the edge than he intended. “Would you have sucked my cock, Jungkook? With your best friend in the same van?”

Jungkook curses under his breath, that heat in his stomach winding tighter and tighter.

God, he would have. He would have swallowed Namjoon’s cock down without a second thought. Had he known it was an option, that Namjoon did in fact know he existed and wanted to fuck him just as badly, nothing would have stopped Jungkook from climbing into that backseat with the older man instead of squeezing in between Jimin and the window.

“Those late nights working on opposite ends of the newspaper room,” Namjoon continues, words followed by an especially hard thrust. “I thought about how you’d look bent over a desk. How you’d look beneath my desk, with my dick between those fucking pink lips. Right there where anyone could have walked in on us.”

If Jungkook thought he was ruined before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. He couldn’t even look at himself, couldn’t pull his eyes from Namjoon to see how absolutely wrecked he was. A wildfire blazed beneath his skin, burning brighter than he thought possible, close to consuming him whole. All the while, Namjoon fucked into him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m gonna-,” he tries, words stuttering out of him with the force of Namjoon’s thrusts. “Fuck, I’m gonna come again.”

“Shit,” is Namjoon’s only reply as he straightens back up, hands finding Jungkook’s hips. His grip is painful, fingertips sure to leave bruises behind.

That thought is what sends Jungkook spiraling, back arching with the force of his orgasm. The idea of Namjoon leaving a mark on him, real and tangible and there for Jungkook to see after the night ended.

With a sharp cry, Jungkook is painting the counter with thick stripes.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot. Look at you. Coming on my cock. Coming without being touched.” Namjoon is so close; Jungkook can tell from the way his thrusts become shallow, uncoordinated, from the way his fingers flex against his hips. “Shitshitshit.”

This time, it’s Jungkook’s turn to look at Namjoon with something like awe on his face. He called Jungkook beautiful but he is nothing compared to the sight of Namjoon spilling inside of him, filling the condom as he tips his head back. Those plump lips are parted around a silent cry of pleasure and Jungkook wishes they were facing one another so he could taste it.

After a moment, Namjoon falls forward, forehead pressing against the space between Jungkook’s shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

In the quiet that follows, Jungkook’s heartbeat steadies itself. Without it pounding in his ears, the sounds from the party still happening outside the confines of this small bathroom filter back in. He feels like he should be ashamed, should worry about who heard them. But he can’t find it in him. Not when it comes to Namjoon.

He isn’t sure how much time passes before Namjoon is easing out of him, both of them hissing at the sensation. Without skipping a beat, the older man spins Jungkook around and captures his mouth in a kiss, sloppy and slow as hands wander, finding bits of skin not covered by the clothing neither of them bothered to remove.

They don’t stop until the door rattles again, only pulling away when an angry voice carries through the door. They share a look before bursting into laughter. The two of them are still laughing, softer and between kisses, as Namjoon cleans Jungkook up, as they right their clothes and try to make themselves look less like they just fucked in the bathroom.

When they reach the door, Jungkook reaches out and stops Namjoon with a hand on his arm.

“Is that…” Jungkook starts, feeling his cheeks heat again. He can’t believe he’s feeling shy after what they just did. “Is that all you’ve thought about doing with me? Just sex?”

Namjoon visibly softens at the words. Whatever he had expected from the younger man, it's clear this wasn’t it. Jungkook wants to ask but then Namjoon is kissing him, chasing the thought away in the wake of those plush lips on his own.

He’s sure it’s something he could never be sick of.

With a deep breath, Namjoon breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to Jungkook’s.

“No, not just sex,” He answers, finally. His cheeks are pink.

The man who was just whispering the filthiest things in Jungkook’s ear as he fucked him suddenly turning shy has Jungkook’s heart swelling with affection.

“Oh? What else then?”

The door rattles again but Jungkook studiously ignores it. He has to know before they step out of this bathroom, before their little private bubble is popped by the party-goers (and the line of people who more likely than not just heard him getting fucked into oblivion).

“I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first moment I saw you.” Namjoon breathes the words, his breath caressing Jungkook’s face on the exhale. “With your fuckin’ lip ring and that stupid camera case covered in ridiculous stickers.”

“Like…on a date?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

When Namjoon laughs, Jungkook is surprised and pleased to find he can still see those dimples with their foreheads pressed together.

“Yes, Jungkook. On a date.” He brings a hand up to cup the back of Jungkook’s head, thumb making slow strokes against dark hair.

“I’d love that.”

Their next kiss is short, a gentle and sweet press of lips. Jungkook thinks it's his favourite of the night, simply for the way it makes his stomach flutter.

“Can I walk you home?” Namjoon asks when they part, releasing his hold on the younger man and taking a small step back.

Beaming, Jungkook nods. Hesitating for only a second, he reaches for Namjoon’s hand and threads their fingers together.

And then Namjoon is opening the bathroom door, letting the noises from the party still going on back in at full force. He very purposefully does not make eye contact with anyone on the way out, keeping his eyes down and trusting the older man to lead the way.

Once they’re on the porch of the frat house, standing beneath the twinkling lights strung overhead, Jungkook remembers that he came to the party with someone.

“Oh shit, I need to text Jimin,” Jungkook says, stopping them by pulling on Namjoon’s hand. “I know he’s probably somewhere getting railed by Yoongi-hyung and Taehyung-hyung but I don’t want to just leave and not tell him.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wait, Yoongi and Taehyung? Like at the same time?”

Nodding, Jungkook fishes his phone from the pocket of his jeans. The screen lights up with a text from Jimin at that exact moment, phone vibrating in his palm. He unlocks it, finding a string of texts from his best friend sent in succession.

Jimin: i couldn’t find you before i left. with tae and yoongi.

 Jimin: TAE AND YOONGI

Jimin: hopefully you didn’t mope back to the room and are instead getting your back blown out

Jimin: like you deserve

Jungkook: you aren’t going to believe what happened

As soon as he hits send, his phone is being tugged carefully from his hands.

“You don’t have my number,” Namjoon says, without looking up from where he’s focused on the screen in his hand. “I think you need it, don’t you? If we’re going to date?”

Jungkook’s heart skips at the words, at the precise way Namjoon phrased it. Date. Not if we’re going to go on a date . But if we’re going to date . As if he plans for this to be a long term thing. Multiple dates. Texting everyday. Of course, their entire conversation in the bathroom should have been enough to spell out his intentions. Jungkook just isn’t always the best at understanding what people are saying if they don’t say it explicitly.

A minute passes before Namjoon is handing the phone back over.

“I texted myself so I have your number now too,” The older man informs him.

Jungkook looks at his phone, where the new message thread is still open. The fact that all Namjoon sent himself was a single purple heart makes him smile, feeling incredibly endeared, but what really gets him is what the older man saved himself as in Jungkook’s phone. 

Baby.

“Ready?” Namjoon asks, cheeks dimpled as he gazes down at Jungkook.

Jungkook pockets his phone and reaches for Namjoon’s hand again, tangling their fingers together.

“Ready.”