Work Text:
♡
When the hybrids came out, it took the whole world by storm. Not that Yoongi remembers it, of course— his mother was barely out of middle school when it happened— but it’s always been discussed in classes. He doesn’t really care that much about them, the hybrids. They’re a generally peaceful bunch, and humans have learned to coexist with them. A miracle for humans, to be honest. Of course, there are some people still bothered about the animal ears and tails on some hybrids, considers that it’s all unnatural (which, technically speaking, it is, because the first hybrids were from a lab), but again— Yoongi can’t be bothered to give a single fuck. He’s got hybrid friends in university, one of his distant cousins is a hybrid. Yoongi’s cool with it.
So when one of them, one he’s never seen before in this particular class— or anywhere in the university, really— quietly slips in from the back door of the lecture hall and sits down next to him, he doesn’t really flinch or get surprised. The professor’s still not present (Yoongi has half a mind to just drop this class since the old geezer’s absent half the fucking time), so Yoongi allows himself to glance over at the hybrid. He does a quick double take, however, because— wow.
It’s a boy—with fluffy peach pink hair, and equally fluffy cat ears perched on the top of his head. They twitch every now and then, his tail slinking around his own waist— almost shyly, protectively— and for a moment, Yoongi stops breathing because the boy is extremely pretty. He’s worrying on his lower lip, his hands tucked between his thighs as he keeps them pressed together, obviously trying to keep himself as small as possible. He has adorably round cheeks, flushed red and seemingly soft to the touch, which remind Yoongi of peaches, to be honest. The way his eyelashes flutter against the highpoints of his cheeks leaves Yoongi mesmerized.
Yoongi isn’t blind, of course, he can appreciate beauty when he sees it, and the boy is every bit of the word, down to the last letter. He regrettably tears his gaze away, not wanting to creep the kid out with his incessant staring, but he steals sideways glances every now and again. The door at the front of the lecture hall opens, and Yoongi sighs, a little disappointed, because he needs to focus on the class now.
His professor hurriedly goes to the desk, brings out his notes while telling them all to bring out books and turn to a certain page. Yoongi doesn’t get his book, just takes out his notebook where he’s already jotted down notes beforehand (a habit his mother had instilled in him since he was young— she’d always make him read in advance, and it’s helped Yoongi maintain a pretty good GPA). Beside him, he can see the hybrid’s tail flicking wildly once, and Yoongi hears a soft whine that has him looking up.
The boy looks disappointed, his hands now curled into fists on top of his lap, and he looks ready to cry. Yoongi glances at the professor, sees that he’s still preparing his presentation, so Yoongi grabs the chance. He taps the hybrid on the shoulder, making the boy jolt up in his seat. His eyes drill into Yoongi’s, and Yoongi takes a moment to just breathe because okay, the boy is really fucking beautiful.
“Uh, are you okay?” Yoongi asks quietly, hand hovering between them.
The hybrid bites his lip before shaking his head. He lifts up one hand— a fucking sweater paw, for fuck’s sake, Yoongi isn’t sure how he’s surviving— and places it against the back of his neck, palm rubbing at the skin awkwardly. His right ear twitches, rather cutely. “I don’t have a book yet.”
Yoongi holds his breath as the boy speaks, and he keeps the memory of his voice tucked away safely in his mind. The boy’s voice is soft, soothing and smooth-flowing. Yoongi clears his throat, before reaching for his bag. He takes his book out and carefully slides it on the table towards the hybrid. “Here,” he says awkwardly, hopes that the hybrid won’t notice how much Yoongi is dying from how pretty he is, “you can borrow mine, I already took down notes.”
The hybrid gasps softly, hands flying up to his mouth, and Yoongi fights the urge to coo and clutch at his chest dramatically. That would be too much, but he kind of, really wants to do it. His heart hurts at how cute the boy is. “R-really? Aren’t you going to use it?” His words are muffled by his sleeves, and Yoongi tries to shrug nonchalantly. Be cool, Yoongi, your mom didn’t raise you to be a fuckin’ wuss, he thinks to himself as he nods his head. The hybrid lets out an adorable giggle as he reaches for the book, handling it tenderly like it was some kind of treasure. “Thank you so much.”
“N-no problem,” Yoongi mumbles, glancing away and hoping that the warmth on his cheeks aren’t what he thinks they are. He doesn’t even blush easily but man, this hybrid was something else.
He hears some shuffling from the other, and it’s quiet for two seconds, until the hybrid breaks the silence. “I-I just moved here. So, I don’t, uhm, I’m not prepared, I suppose. The bookstore ran out of copies, and the bus I rode earlier broke down. S’why I was late.” Yoongi slowly looks back at him, and the boy is mindlessly flipping through the book, his ears twitching when he hears Yoongi move. His eyes flick up to meet Yoongi’s, and when they do, his face breaks out into the brightest, happiest smile Yoongi has ever seen (and he’s friends with Hoseok— fuck, that’s saying something). “I’m Park Jimin,” he says happily, reaching up and tugging at his ears gently, “I’m a cat hybrid.”
Yoongi gulps thickly, and he can practically hear his own heart thumping wildly in his chest. Momentarily, he tries to remember his mother’s notes and research journals about hybrids— do they have increased hearing, too? Fuck, what if Jimin can hear how fast his heart is racing? Jimin is too bright, too pretty, too soft, and Yoongi has a hard time taking it all in, but— but he tries. He lets out a small smile, notices how Jimin’s tail flicks in interest when he does. “I’m Min Yoongi. Nice to meet you, Park Jimin.”
Jimin giggles into his hands, the previous tension in his body already gone, and he scoots closer to Yoongi just as the lecture starts, a content smile curving his lips upwards. Halfway through the lecture, his tail wraps loosely around Yoongi’s upper arm, and Yoongi pretends it doesn’t make him die on the inside.
♡
Yoongi, of course, invites Jimin to lunch when the lecture ends. Jimin is still new, he reasons, so he probably doesn’t even have any friends yet. Jimin practically glows when Yoongi asks him, though, and he’s close to jumping up and down on his spot as he waits for Yoongi to stand up. They walk through the halls, Jimin keeping close to his side as he hums a beat to himself. Every other step, Yoongi feels Jimin’s tail flick against his leg. It surprises him at first, but after the fifth time, he doesn’t even notice anymore.
“Listen,” Yoongi starts as soon as they step into the cafeteria. In the distance, he can see his friends wilding it out at their table again, and he inwardly groans. Jimin is too soft for his asshole friends. He wants to abort mission. “Jimin-ah, my friends— they’re weird. If you feel uncomfortable in any way or form, just tell me and we’ll leave, okay?”
Jimin rolls his eyes, and it surprises Yoongi because he didn’t take Jimin to be the sassy type, but he apparently is, and it makes Yoongi smile a little. “I’ll be fine, hyung,” he assures as he peeks over Yoongi’s shoulder, and Yoongi tries not to flush at how sweet the hyung sounded from Jimin’s lips, “is that them? I think they’re pointing at you— oh, someone just tried to throw a nacho chip at you…”
Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his black hair before he glares over his shoulder and flips off his friends. Carefully, he places a hand on Jimin’s elbow and guides him to the table. Already, Yoongi can see Taehyung scrambling over his boyfriend’s lap to ogle at Jimin. Jungkook places a hand around Taehyung’s hips to keep him from falling. Across from the two, Seokjin and Hoseok are debating on the best kind of salsa, and Namjoon is sneakily stealing food from Seokjin’s plate.
“Hey, assholes,” Yoongi starts, and closes his eyes when Hoseok lets out a holler as a form of greeting, “try not to be who you really are for today, alright? This is Jimin. Jimin, these are my friends, unfortunately.”
Jimin laughs sweetly, hand coming up to his mouth to cover it. He waves at everyone, laughs a little more when Taehyung practically drags him to sit next to him. Yoongi watches warily as Taehyung squeezes Jimin’s face, but Jimin takes it all in stride. He looks happy, if anything.
Yoongi occupies the seat next to Namjoon, grunts in thanks when Namjoon steals a nacho chip for him, Seokjin none the wiser. “Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, taking a bite out of the chip, “what’s up?”
“The usual— where’d you find him?” Namjoon jerks his chin towards Jimin (who was currently flicking his ears away from Taehyung’s fingers).
“New classmate,” Yoongi simply says, and they leave it at that.
Lunch goes by fairly well, to Yoongi’s surprise. It makes his heart just a little bit warmer to see Jimin get along with his friends. He’s not even sure why, but it just— it makes him really happy. When they all leave together, Jimin sidles up to him (he’s naturally clingy, Yoongi comes to discover after that lunch break). They don’t have the next class together, but it’s in the same building.
“Yoongi-hyung?” He tugs on Yoongi’s sleeve to get his attention, and Yoongi glances at him. Jimin smiles sheepishly, delicate shades of pink blooming on the apples of his cheeks. The sight makes Yoongi’s heart clench. “Uhm. M-may I hang out with you again tomorrow?”
And Yoongi finds out from that moment on that he is a weak man, a weak man who can’t say no to cute kitty ears, plump lips, and bright brown eyes. He nods his head, feels like he’s saved the entire human nation when Jimin giggles sweetly, never letting go of his sleeve.
♡
(And they fall. Naturally, without fuss, without drama. No one is surprised when they do.)
(When Yoongi walks Jimin home from a date a month later, they stop at a park to stargaze. When Jimin smiles at him, Yoongi can’t stop himself.
He kisses Jimin for the first time. There aren’t any fireworks, time doesn’t stop, the world doesn’t still, but Yoongi feels at peace. The way Jimin’s lips move against his own, their breaths mingling, his hands finding purchase on Jimin’s hips, pulling him closer, closer, closer until there’s no space left between them.
Jimin has his hands cupped around Yoongi’s face, his eyes closed as he pulls away to breathe. “I like you, hyung, so much.”
Yoongi presses a chaste kiss on his lips, feeling his skin tingle with love, feeling warmth throb in his veins when Jimin smiles at him. “I like you, too.”
“So…” Jimin trails off, running his thumbs across Yoongi’s cheeks.
“Be mine, baby?” Yoongi asks quickly, and Jimin nods shyly, a beautiful, breathtaking smile on his face as he pulls Yoongi down for another kiss. His tail flicks around happily, curling around Yoongi’s thigh.
“Okay.”)
(“Can you get me a collar, hyung?”
“Stop.”)
♡
Jimin sometimes stays over at Yoongi’s apartment, especially during his days off. He mainly pigs out on the couch or on Yoongi’s bed, the television or laptop open to drama series and weird Youtube videos. Yoongi doesn’t complain, though, not that he’d ever complain about it, of course. He likes it, the assurance that Jimin is somewhere near him, safe and happy and content. It’s enough to calm him, enough to put him in a relaxed state of mind that he can work on his compositions peacefully. He sidelines as piano tutor, and he’s trying to tweak some songs so kids can play them easily.
He hears Jimin before he sees him, but Yoongi tries to ignore him. He really, really needs to work. Jimin’s feet softly pad against the wooden floorboards of his home, and Yoongi makes the mistake of glancing up (because okay, Yoongi can’t really ever resist looking at his baby). Jimin’s wearing Yoongi’s tee shirt, one of his baggy ones, and it’s unfair how pretty Jimin looks in it, the hem reaching down until his thighs, barely hiding anything. His tail is swishing in the air lazily, ears relaxed.
“Hyung,” he greets sleepily as he walks closer, yawning and stretching his arms up. Yoongi has to look away so that he wouldn’t see the way his shirt rides up Jimin’s thigh slowly. Jimin flops down next to him, easily wrapping his arms around his side and melting into Yoongi. “Hyung, I’m bored.”
“I’m busy, baby,” Yoongi mumbles weakly, frowns as he glares at his papers on the coffee table. Why the fuck are they not making sense anymore? Jimin nuzzles into his side, tightening his hold on Yoongi. Thankfully, Jimin seems to be understanding that evening (it’s a rare occurrence— for the past year, Jimin has always been a needy little thing). Yoongi moves his arm a little, feeling generous enough to at least grant Jimin cuddling space. Jimin hums happily, moving his head so it rested on the crook of Yoongi’s neck, Yoongi’s arm holding him in place. Yoongi kisses his forehead in a form of thanks, and Jimin hums.
It’s calm and peaceful, and Yoongi is almost finished with tweaking the music scores in front of him when he feels Jimin tugging at the collar of his tee shirt. He doesn’t say anything, because damn, he’s so close to finishing, okay, he wants to finish these, but Jimin doesn’t let up. If anything, Jimin only starts tugging harder, a soft whine escaping his lips when Yoongi continues to ignore him.
“Hyung,” he breathes out, and he sounds— different. Yoongi licks his lips unconsciously. “Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin mutters again, and this time, he moves a little, shifting his arms so that they’re wrapped around Yoongi’s neck instead. He leans up, letting his plump lips catch the lobe of Yoongi’s ear, and he tugs on it lightly. Yoongi shakes his head, and he’s aware that he’s gripping his pen too hard. He closes his eyes in resignation, and finally, finally lets his pen clatter to the coffee table, music scores and composition notes be damned. As soon as he does so, Jimin is scrambling up onto his lap, a cheeky grin on his face as his palms rest on Yoongi’s chest. “You finally stopped ignoring me.”
“For your information, you little brat, I was aware of everything you did,” Yoongi deadpans, resting his hands on Jimin’s hips when Jimin straddles him. He likes how his hands look around his tiny waist— Jimin likes it too (he’s told him plenty of times, already).
“Hyung, hyung, hyuuung,” Jimin chirps excitedly, sliding his hands up and looping his arms around Yoongi’s neck. There’s a cute smile on his face, one that makes his eyes twinkle.
“What?”
“I love you so much,” he whispers happily, and he giggles then, a cute heehee that makes Yoongi’s heart melt.
Yoongi can’t help but chuckle, his laugh softening down into a fond smile. Jimin smiles shyly as he ducks his head forward, hiding his face in the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi reaches a hand up, running his fingers through Jimin’s peach locks, making sure to scratch lightly behind his ears. They’re twitching softly, his tail swishing around excitedly as he gets the attention he’s been vying for since earlier.
Yoongi keeps on petting his head, knows that Jimin loves head rubs and ear scratches. Jimin’s chest thrums with soft, low purrs. Yoongi slides his hand down, extending his petting all the way down to his lower back, near the base of Jimin’s tail. His fingers brush lightly at the pink fluffy tail jutting out from beneath the huge shirt, and he feels Jimin tense in his arms. He raises an eyebrow, before he does it again, running his fingers from Jimin’s nape all the way down to his tail. Jimin’s thighs tighten a fraction around his hips, and when Yoongi wraps his fingers around the furry appendage, and tugs with just a little force, Jimin shudders a little.
Jimin moans softly, his breath fanning across Yoongi’s skin around his neck, and they both freeze.
Yoongi swallows thickly. He retracts his hand, rests it on the small of Jimin’s back, before sliding it down again, tugging at the tail once more, a little harder, and Jimin’s moan is louder this time. The sounds that Jimin makes are always so sinful, always sears themselves onto Yoongi’s mind, and Yoongi can feel his own cock twitch in interest beneath his sweatpants.
He doesn’t say anything, though, secretly enjoys the way Jimin squirms slightly on his lap. He doesn’t let up on touching Jimin’s tail— momentarily, Yoongi remembers Jimin saying that his tail is very sensitive. While he gives Jimin’s tail attention, he lets his other hand fall from his hip, instead placing it on the soft swell of Jimin’s thigh. He glides it up slowly, fingers trailing hot lines across the warm, supple skin, fingers creeping underneath the hem of the shirt, and Jimin presses his face against Yoongi’s neck, his breathing gradually becoming ragged and hot.
“H-hyung,” he whispers, arms tightening around Yoongi’s neck, “ ah… ”
“What do you want, baby doll? Tell hyung what you want,” Yoongi mumbles quietly, craning his head a little to plant soft kisses on the side of Jimin’s neck, or what he could reach. Jimin sighs at the touch, the tip of his tail twitching.
“U-uhm.” He squirms, pulling himself away, and Yoongi feels a sense of pride to see the bright flush of Jimin’s face. His boyfriend refuses to look at him, just shakily slips off Yoongi’s lap. Jimin reaches for his hand, tugging him up and leading him to the bedroom gently.
Yoongi closes the door behind him, and lets Jimin lead him to the bed. He sits on the edge of it, legs open just right. Jimin just stands in front of him, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Love, come here, come closer to hyung, tell me what you want, yeah?”
Jimin nods as he slowly comes closer. He hikes his leg up slowly, one by one, his thighs on either side of Yoongi’s hips, small hands resting on the slight rise of Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi’s hands rest just above his ass, fingers brushing on the sweet swell of his cheeks. “Hyung,” he mutters, eyelashes fluttering and Yoongi knows he’s feeling shy.
They don’t have a boring sex life, to be honest. Jimin is a needy little thing, and Yoongi is always more than happy to oblige, especially after reading one of his mother’s research journals about hybrids. Some of them have heats, like their animal counterparts, and it’s apparently a painful thing to go through when not taken care of properly, so when Jimin goes into his monthly heats, Yoongi always helps him (especially when Jimin’s practically begging for his hyung— who was Yoongi to refuse, really, he’s a weak man). He doesn’t like seeing his baby boy in pain if he can help it.
Still, no matter how many times they’ve had sex, made love, fucked, whatever people may call it, Jimin is still shy, and Yoongi finds it so, so endearing. The way his cheeks flush like it’s the first time they’re doing it (their first time, though, was a little unromantic— they did it in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, but well, they couldn’t wait, okay).
“Yes, baby? What does my baby want?” Yoongi massages Jimin’s ass a little, smiling when he sighs at the ministrations. His small fingers clutch at the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt desperately, eyes fluttering close as his lips part slightly.
“Kiss me,” he simply says, and Yoongi leans in.
Kissing Jimin is one of the things Yoongi loves doing the most (his favorite, of course, is taking care of Jimin— nothing can beat that, no). Jimin is shy, he’s always shy, and Yoongi loves coaxing him out of his shell. His lips are soft, and Yoongi smiles inwardly when he tastes the faint taste of strawberry— Jimin loves hoarding and stocking up beauty products like lip balms and body lotions. When Jimin kisses back, there’s always something bashful about the way he opens his lips, about the way he nibbles on Yoongi’s lower lip in return, and it sets something warm blazing in the pit of Yoongi’s stomach.
Yoongi carefully licks across the seam of Jimin’s lips, asking for entrance, and Jimin parts his lips to let him in. He keeps his small hands on Yoongi’s chest, fingers and tail twitching occasionally. Jimin loves it when Yoongi takes control, so Yoongi always take the reins, licking into the wet cavern of Jimin’s mouth, tongue swiping at the roof, at every surface he can explore. Yoongi drowns in the intoxicating taste of Jimin, drinking in his breathy moans whenever he so much as moves. He feels Jimin’s hips buck closer, seeking any kind of friction.
Yoongi pulls away, planting open mouthed kisses on the corner of Jimin’s lips, trailing down until he reaches his neck. He sucks gently on the soft skin, listening closely to the way Jimin’s breath hitches, his moans soft yet heavy. Jimin bucks his hips forward again, desperate for any kind of friction, anything. Yoongi finds himself swallowing thickly when he feels something wet on his lap. Carefully, he pulls away. He looks up at Jimin, who has suddenly stopped moving, teeth clamping down on his lower lip. Slowly, Yoongi reaches behind Jimin, hand sliding down past the swell of his ass. He glides his hand around the plush globes, and feels his cock twitch when his fingers feel a large, wet spot on Jimin’s boxers.
“Baby,” Yoongi says, and he’s aware that his voice is suddenly huskier, deeper. It has Jimin shuddering on his lap, and more slick leaking out. Fuck. “You’re so wet already. Is that for me?”
Jimin flushes deeply, but he nods his head anyway, squirming and pressing his ass against Yoongi’s lap. “I-I need you, hyung, please…”
Yoongi slides his hand back up, carefully maneuvering Jimin so that he was on his back on the bed, pink hair fanning out beautifully against his sheets. He’s beautiful, and Yoongi will never tire of saying that. They way his cheeks have that natural pink flush, the way he looks at everything with wide eyes, curiosity twinkling in those brown orbs. He’s really beautiful, and Yoongi will fucking fight anyone who dares to disagree.
Yoongi kneels between Jimin’s legs, and the hybrid automatically hooks them around his waist. Yoongi hovers over him, not wasting any time as he leans down and catches Jimin’s lips in a kiss far more heated than earlier.
It’s more frantic now, wetter and messier, Jimin’s hands finding purchase in Yoongi’s hair and tugging gently. The short tingle of pain shoots down to his groin, and he’s reminded of his throbbing cock. He pulls away quickly, shivering at the whine that Jimin lets out. He pushes Jimin’s shirt up until they bunch near his armpits.
“Hyung, stop teasing,” Jimin whines, squirming underneath Yoongi, reaching down and palming Yoongi through his sweatpants. His tail swishes around between his legs, and he loops it around Yoongi’s thigh lazily.
Yoongi shushes him, rubbing the soft flesh of his inner thigh as he leans down and takes one of Jimin’s pert nipples into his mouth. Jimin’s back arches at the wet sensation, keening when Yoongi sucks gently. He lets his tongue swirl around the pink nub, feeling his own erection straining painfully against his sweatpants. He sucks on the other nipple, too, lets Jimin grip his upper arms tightly.
As he lavishes Jimin’s pert buds with attention, he lets his hand travel down, go around Jimin’s leaking cock, the head peeking from beneath his boxers, across his perineum, and down to his pink hole. Yoongi detaches his mouth in surprise, because Jimin is fucking dripping . He can feel Jimin’s slick all over the sheets, through his boxers, his thighs, and shit , he’s fucking soaked through the fabric of his boxers enough to drench the sheets, too. Yoongi sits up a little, taking his time to look at how wet Jimin was.
Jimin snaps out of his daze, and he uses his tail to whack Yoongi’s back lightly. “St-stop staring, hyung…”
“But— you look so gorgeous, sweetheart, how can hyung not stare?” Yoongi licks his lips as he reaches down and hooks his fingers on the waistband of Jimin’s pink boxers. “May I?”
Jimin nods, lifts his body a little as Yoongi slides off his boxers. It comes off with a slick, wet sound, one that has Jimin blushing even harder, if possible. Jimin’s cock springs free, and Yoongi’s always found it cute, no matter how strange the idea of finding a dick cute was. It’s smaller than his own, all pink and just cute and very Jimin. Yoongi leans over again. He runs a hand across Jimin’s left thigh, watching in fascination as his skin breaks out in goosebumps. He lets his hands trail down the soft flesh of Jimin’s inner thigh, his eyes fixed solely on the hybrid’s face.
When his fingers press lightly on Jimin’s leaking hole, Jimin mewls loudly, his legs hooking tighter around Yoongi, tail thumping on the bed, and he leaks more slick, which had Jimin moaning louder. He can feel his slick trickling down his skin, and he feels embarrassed.
“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” Yoongi mumbles, smirking when Jimin groans.
“Th-then stop teasing, and start fucking, hyung... a-ah, I-I know...you l-like it wet.”
And Yoongi does. He likes the feeling of sliding in easily, hearing the lewd squelching sounds when he starts fucking Jimin hard, loves how their thighs get covered in so much slick, how the sound of skin slapping against skin is amplified by the wetness. But if there’s anything he loves more than that, it’s teasing Jimin.
So he leans over, presses a chaste kiss on Jimin’s lips. Jimin tries to chase him for another kiss, kitty ears falling flat on his hair when Yoongi moves away, but his whine dies in his throat when Yoongi presses in one finger up until the first knuckle. He chokes out a moan, ears perking up at the sudden intrusion. Yoongi pushes in his finger completely, keeps one hand pressed down on Jimin’s hip whenever he tries to fuck himself back onto Yoongi’s finger.
“Be a good boy, baby doll,” Yoongi pushes his finger in and out, curling inwards and letting the pad of his fingertip scrape against Jimin’s velvety walls, “and maybe hyung will let you cum twice tonight. You want that?”
Jimin’s shy when they have sex, yes, but with enough coaxing, he becomes needy, desperate, just the way Yoongi likes him to be. Jimin is nodding his head furiously, teeth clamping down on his lower lip when Yoongi pushes a second finger in, the sensation making him leak more slick. He flushes, whines loudly in embarrassment, but Yoongi shushes him. Jimin gets wet easily a lot , even when they’re just making out, Yoongi would always find wet spots on his lap, his thigh, on the couch, and Jimin always apologizes for leaking because hyung, I can’t help it if you make me feel so good, and well. Yoongi loves it, feels a sense of pride for being the one who can do it.
Yoongi slips a third finger in, and Jimin stutters out Yoongi’s name. His back is arched off the mattress gracefully, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. Yoongi thrusts his fingers in at a brutal pace, loving the way Jimin’s mewls come out in a soft staccato, they distract him from the painful ache of his own forgotten hard on.
When Jimin’s breath hitches, Yoongi knows he’s found it. He angles his fingers up, and continually rams into Jimin’s prostate, the small ball of nerves velvety to the touch. “I got you, baby, I got you,” he whispers, and with one more hard thrust of his fingers, Jimin is coming untouched, his cock twitching as it shoots out thin strings of white. Yoongi pumps him lazily, milking him through his orgasm, and Jimin gently swats at his hand when it gets too much. Yoongi pulls his fingers out. “You good?”
Jimin hums, before he carefully sits up. The blush on his cheeks are high, his lips swollen red from the way he worried it too much. He gets on his knees, places a hand on Yoongi’s still clothed chest.
“Let me suck you off, hyung,” Jimin says, so nonchalantly as if he was asking about the weather, that Yoongi feels himself blush a little. He lets Jimin do it anyway, though. He lays back down on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. He watches Jimin crawl in between his legs, tail flicking behind him, shirt hanging loosely over his small frame. Yoongi watches Jimin’s small hands carefully shimmy down Yoongi’s sweatpants just enough until his cock springs out, hard and flushed and leaking. Yoongi sighs at the feeling.
“Hyung,” Jimin says quietly, and Yoongi looks down at him. His eyes catch the way Jimin licks his lips before he wraps his fingers around Yoongi’s cock, barely even wrapping around the shaft, but Yoongi still loves the feeling all the same. “I really love your cock.”
Yoongi swallows thickly at that, watches intently as Jimin leans down, breathing against the head of his leaking length. Yoongi takes a deep breath, every touch and breath of Jimin setting him on fire. Jimin slides his fingers up and down once, twice, before he leans down and kisses the tip sweetly, precum staining his plump lips. He licks his lips as he comes up, grinning up at Yoongi.
“You taste so good,” he comments before diving down without warning. He takes Yoongi in one swift motion, and Yoongi feels like he got a punch to the gut, the sudden feeling of Jimin’s hot, wet mouth enveloping his cock making him hiss sharply. It’s too much, it’s always too much when Jimin gives him head, because no matter how shy Jimin is, he knows how to use his mouth.
Jimin bobs his head slowly, his jaw slack, his fingers working on the parts he can’t reach. When he bobs his head up, he comes off with a pop, letting his lips catch on the fold of skin, tongue digging into the slit, and Yoongi moans loudly, hand reaching down to tangle in Jimin’s peach locks. He doesn’t pull, but he grips just hard enough that Jimin moans softly. “Fuck , Jiminnie, fuck, you feel so good, your mouth, god ,” Yoongi rattles off, dazed as Jimin continues to lick around his head, kissing down the sides, and taking him again in one go.
Jimin hums, the vibrations sending an intense tingling sensation shooting up Yoongi’s spine, down his limbs to his fingers and toes. He tugs on Jimin’s hair, and Jimin only sucks in, cheeks hollowing, and eyes closing when Yoongi accidentally bucks up into his mouth, tip hitting the back of Jimin’s throat. Jimin gags a little, shoulders hitching, tears suddenly brimming his eyes. Yoongi feels guilt well up in his throat.
“Sh-shit, sorry, baby doll,” Yoongi grits out, sitting up to try and pull Jimin off, but Jimin reaches a hand up to push him back. He continues sucking, the head of Yoongi’s cock hitting the back of Jimin’s throat, his tongue swirling around the head and smearing precum all over Yoongi’s length. He glances up, stares into Yoongi’s eyes as he bobs his head up, and that does it for Yoongi. He feels the gut-clenching feeling of an incoming orgasm, feels the muscles in his thighs tightening. “Baby— Jiminnie, I-I’m going to come—”
Jimin suddenly pulls away, lips coming away with an indecent wet pop. He grips his fingers tight around the base, and Yoongi actually growls in disappointment. He shoots Jimin a dirty glare, but Jimin only smiles at him, lips glistening with Yoongi’s precum, and his own spit. He licks his lower lip, before wiping it with his fingers, popping one finger into his mouth and sucking softly. He pulls it off with a pop, smiling shyly at Yoongi.
“Sorry, but hyung,” he whispers, glancing at Yoongi’s straining cock, before he crawls up to Yoongi, chests pressing together. Yoongi’s a little pissed that Jimin didn’t let him come, but he still listens to Jimin. “Hyung,” Jimin leans close, lips brushing against Yoongi’s earlobe, tail brushing against Yoongi’s leg, “I want you to fill me up, fill me up until I feel so, so full, yeah?”
Yoongi’s never moved faster in his life. He flips them over, Jimin gasping in surprise as he gets manhandled onto the bed, back pressed against the mattress. Yoongi pulls him by the thighs, hooking them over the crook of his elbows. Yoongi’s cock is fucking hard, almost to the point of painful, and after overcoming his initial surprise at getting manhandled, Jimin eyes Yoongi’s cock hungrily, sees the tip brushing against Yoongi’s lean abs, streaking precum with every bob.
“I want your cum in me, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin says again.
“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me, Park Jimin,” Yoongi mumbles under his breath, sliding his hands up Jimin’s side and finally pulling his shirt off. He takes off his own shirt, and quickly leans back down.
Jimin giggles softly, cheeks bunching up as he slides his thighs teasingly against Yoongi’s bare side, wiggling his ass in an attempt to look enticing. “A good way to go, then.”
“Brat.”
Yoongi wastes no time. He’s literally in pain, he feels like he’s going to burst at the seams, and Jimin’s cock is half-hard again, twitching (rather cutely) against Jimin’s honey skin. He scoots closer, lets out a sigh when the tip of his cock presses against Jimin’s leaking entrance. “Damn, baby doll,” Yoongi breathes out, pushing in his tip gently, watching Jimin’s face scrunch up at the feeling, “you’re still leaking.”
“N-not my fault you make me feel so good that I’m always dripping w-wet,” Jimin stutters out, making grabby hands at Yoongi.
Yoongi reaches for his hand, laces their fingers together. He hitches Jimin’s legs up higher on his waist, sliding in easily, gasps at the sudden wet heat wrapping around his cock. Jimin mewls, tail wrapping around Yoongi’s thigh again, the soft fur tickling Yoongi’s skin slightly. He uses his ankles to push Yoongi deeper, and Yoongi obliges, pushing in as far as he could until his hips are pressing against Jimin’s ass, until he’s fully sheathed in Jimin, balls deep. Their skins are glistening with slick, sweat, and precum, and Yoongi should feel disgusted at the very least, but he loves it. Loves it so much, how dirty the two of them can get. He knows Jimin likes it too, if the way he moans is any indication at all.
“Move, just fuck me, hyung, cum in me,” he pleads breathily, and Yoongi nods, closing the distance until their chests are almost pressing together. He rests his weight on his elbows, forearms around Jimin’s face. He knows he won’t last long at this point, not after Jimin fucking denied him of his orgasm, so he goes slow.
He keeps his eyes on Jimin’s face, watches the way his eyes flutter close as Yoongi slides into him, thick cock grinding against his walls. His lips part as Yoongi rocks his hips back and forth. Jimin keeps on moaning out Yoongi’s name, his hands finding Yoongi’s back, nails digging into his pale skin with every thrust. Yoongi angles his thrusts a little higher, finds Jimin’s prostate again, and relentlessly pounds into him.
Jimin’s broken, high-pitched moans and Yoongi’s grunts of Jimin’s name fill the room. The sound of skin slapping wetly against skin, the bed creaking, headboards banging against the wall. Yoongi might get another noise complaint tomorrow, but he doesn’t care, not when Jimin is full on sobbing beneath him, tears decorating his eyelashes, cheeks flushed, entrance clenching tightly around Yoongi’s cock. His thighs are trembling against Yoongi’s sides, and Yoongi’s knees hurt from kneeling for too long, from all the thrusting, but he’s close, they’re close. Yoongi reaches down between them, wraps his fingers around Jimin’s cock. He pumps it once in time with a particularly hard thrust.
Without warning, Jimin comes with a cry for the second time that night. His load is less this time around, but his body shudders with each jerk of his release, his hole clenching in time and it pushes Yoongi over the edge. He hisses through gritted teeth, rams into Jimin’s sensitive hole one last time, before he’s coming, blacking out for a while, a low growl at the back of his throat, something like Jimin’s name, he’s not sure anymore. He thrusts through his orgasm, and it’s a lot, Jimin whining at the oversensitivity of his abused hole, but he doesn’t push Yoongi away. He keeps his legs curled around Yoongi, keeping him in place as his boyfriend rides his orgasm.
Jimin sighs softly at the feeling of getting filled up, Yoongi shooting his load into him. He keeps his arms looped around his neck as Yoongi fills him to the brim, so, so full until there’s a dull, heavy sensation in his stomach. He smiles sleepily, nuzzling his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck.
“Thank you,” he murmurs sleepily, and Yoongi only nods, spent and fucking worn out. He presses his forehead on Jimin’s shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss over Jimin’s heart.
“Fuck, I love you, Jimin.”
Jimin only laughs.
(When Yoongi moves to pull out so he can clean Jimin up, Jimin whines loudly. “It’s going to come out! I want to keep hyung’s cum in me, it makes me feel nice,” he reasons, on the verge of tears, and well, Yoongi can’t ever refuse.
They use Jimin’s favorite plug that night— a baby pink plug with a rose-shaped pink crystal at the end.)
♡
Yoongi wakes up to empty arms, soft whines, and to the feeling of something rubbing against his thigh.
He cracks his eyes open, and manages to choke on a yawn when he sees Jimin straddling his thigh, face scrunched up in barely there pleasure as he ruts against Yoongi’s thigh. Jimin hasn’t caught on that Yoongi is awake yet, so Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just watches Jimin’s head drop down, hair matted to his forehead as he makes small whimpering sounds, his own tail curling around his own waist. He bucks his hips in small frantic movements, obviously trying not to rouse Yoongi, but still doing his best to get the most possible friction that he can possibly get.
Jimin snaps his head up suddenly, a moan escaping his lips (probably after accidentally jostling the plug inserted snugly into his sensitive hole), and that’s when he sees that Yoongi is wide awake. He squeals in surprise, his rhythm stuttering, but he doesn’t stop, just minimizes his movements, desperation evident in each jerk of his hips. “H-hyung, I-I’m sorry, I-I think my heat’s coming soon, and I…”
“Shh, princess, it’s okay,” Yoongi gestures for him to come closer, and reluctantly, Jimin does so, leaving his perch from Yoongi’s thigh (cheeks flushing profusely at the wet spot he’s made on the gray fabric), and straddling his hips instead. His ass sits perfectly on top of Yoongi’s half-hard cock (watching Jimin rut against his thigh did things to him). “Ride me?” Yoongi asks casually, and Jimin blushes hard.
His eyes twinkle with desire, the blush creeping all the way to his bare chest. He nods, before carefully lifting himself up. He reaches for Yoongi’s cock, quietly pumps it until Yoongi’s hard enough. Yoongi bites back a hiss. He watches as Jimin carefully aligns himself, taking a deep breath before reaches back, pulls the plug out. He whimpers softly at the empty feeling, but quickly slides down and fucks himself on Yoongi’s cock to avoid letting all the cum drip out of him.
It’s the middle of the night, and they’re both tired. Jimin keeps his moans quiet, small hands splayed across Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi watches him bounce on his cock, sees the way his stomach is rippling with the force of his bounce, the way his thighs are straining as he keeps himself up.
Jimin slows down, his pace stuttering, and Yoongi knows it's his cue to take over. He gently flips them over, Jimin letting out a soft mewl when he feels Yoongi’s cock shift around against his walls. Yoongi pounds into him at a fast pace, Jimin’s high-pitched stuttered moans pushing him closer to the edge, and before he knows it, they’re both coming again. Yoongi shoots his cum into Jimin, feels some of it leak out due to Jimin being so full already, his stomach swelling nicely with Yoongi’s load.
Yoongi moves to pull out, but Jimin stops him yet again. He sobs softly. “Don’t pull out, hyung, please. I want you.”
Yoongi sighs— he will never, ever learn how to refuse to Jimin. Not that he wants to, anyway. He nods his head, leans down to place a kiss on Jimin’s lips. They’re both utterly dirty, but Yoongi doesn’t care. He flips them over again, Jimin laying on top of him tiredly, tail thumping on the bed contentedly, ears twitching.
“Good night, baby.”
Jimin hums as he places a sleepy kiss over Yoongi’s heart.
♡
When Jimin wakes up, it is to fresh sheets, clean skin, damp washed hair, and Yoongi’s clothes covering his body. He’s alone on the bed, but he doesn’t feel scared, of course. Yoongi would never leave him, he knows this. He knows Yoongi loves him dearly, and he loves Yoongi, too. So much.
Besides he can smell something cooking from outside the bedroom, so he knows he’s not alone. Gently, and despite the dull ache in his ass from all the fucking they did (“we made love”, Yoongi would always insist, but Jimin would only giggle in response, “we fucked, hyung, it’s the same thing”, and Yoongi would pout and complain because fuck sounds so cold. Jimin thinks it’s sweet and cute— Yoongi’s way of thinking, that is), he sits up. He slides off the bed, giggling when he finds his favorite fluffy pink socks on his feet.
Post-sex, Jimin is a heavy sleeper. The building can crumble down, but he probably wouldn’t even notice, so it’s not rare that he always finds himself already washed up and clean after sex. Yoongi always, always makes sure that Jimin feels good, happy, and content. He feels his tail swish around happily at the thought of Yoongi, feels something warm bloom in his chest, and he lets himself smile, giggling softly into his hands. He’s lucky, Jimin knows.
He makes his way out of the room, heading straight to the kitchen. He sees Yoongi standing in front of the stove, black hair damp, a towel hung around his neck. He’s in fresh clothes, too, a black fitted shirt and black sweatpants, and Jimin briefly entertains the idea that Yoongi really looks good in anything.
He shuffles over to him, lazily wrapping his arms from behind, his chest pressing flush against Yoongi’s back. Yoongi jumps a little in surprise, but Jimin soon feels Yoongi relax, his back muscles shifting a bit as he moves around.
“Good morning, love,” Yoongi mumbles out, and Jimin presses his cheek against Yoongi’s back, feels his voice rumbling from within him. “Are you alright? Does it hurt anywhere?”
And Jimin can’t help but smile, feeling overwhelmed at how much Yoongi cares for him, puts him first before anything. It’s funny, he thinks, how all those months ago, he only really sat down next to Yoongi in that lecture hall because his instincts told him to do so, told him that Yoongi was safe, good, home. It’s one of his best decisions in life. He really likes being a hybrid, Jimin decides.
“Good morning, babe,” Jimin mumbles back, words muffled by Yoongi’s skin as he presses a kiss against the back of his neck, “I’m okay, you always take care of me, so I’m okay.”
Yoongi hums, continues cooking their breakfast. It’s bacon and pancakes, Jimin thinks, but he doesn’t care at this point. All he wants is to hug Yoongi, drown in his musky scent, in the strong aura he exudes. All he wants are Yoongi’s kisses, and hugs, and words of love. When Yoongi tries to step to the side, Jimin doesn’t budge. He leans his whole weight on Yoongi, making him grunt in effort.
“Jiminnie, let me move, I can’t cook if you cling on to me like that.”
“But I’m your baby koala, you call me that sometimes, so I’m going to be a baby koala,” Jimin huffs, puffing his cheeks and tightening his arms around Yoongi.
“Baby, come on, the bacon’s burning,” Yoongi whines, a little cutely, and Jimin fights back a laugh because he’s trying to look annoyed and clingy, damn it.
“Noooooooo, I don’t want to let goooooo.” Jimin presses his face against Yoongi’s back again, and he finally hears the click of the stove.
He feels Yoongi turning around in his hold. Jimin lets him, and he giggles when he sees the unimpressed look on Yoongi’s face. Yoongi rolls his eyes before he gently crowds Jimin against the kitchen counter. He lifts him up to it, and Jimin instantly pulls him closer by hooking his legs around his hips, tail wrapping around his upper arm.
“Okay, fine, baby, you have me, now what, what about breakfast,” Yoongi says flatly, hands pressed right next to Jimin’s hips, caging him in.
Jimin just laughs, reaching up and playing with Yoongi’s hair lightly, fluffing them up and giggling when it makes him look funny. Yoongi laughs, too, a fond smile stretching his lips, and when he leans in to kiss Jimin, Jimin playfully ducks his head, bumping Yoongi’s nose with one of his kitty ears. They burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter, and Jimin thinks it’s the happiest he’s ever been (well— it’s a close second to when a red-faced, flustered Yoongi told him I love you so much for the first time).
Jimin can’t stop giggling, even when Yoongi is leaning in, cupping his face tenderly, a fond smile on his lips, brown eyes filled with love. Jimin can’t stop smiling like a loon, even when Yoongi is leaning in, kissing him on the lips, and Jimin laughs because hyung, that’s my teeth, but Yoongi only smiles, nuzzling his cheeks, wrapping his arms around Jimin.
When Jimin finally calms down, he finds himself staring at Yoongi. Yoongi is silent, a small smile on his face as he takes in Jimin. Jimin’s chest is heaving from all the laughing he did, and Yoongi caresses his cheek tenderly. Jimin knows he’s definitely blushing.
“I love you so much, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin says breathlessly, his hands finding purchase on the junctions where Yoongi’s shoulder and neck met, “I love you so much.”
Yoongi closes his eyes as he takes Jimin’s lips between his in a chaste kiss. He pulls away, just enough that their lips are brushing. “I know, and I still can’t believe it, baby,” Yoongi huffs out softly, and Jimin smiles, feels like his heart is about to burst at the seams from all the love he has for Yoongi— no, it feels like his whole being is about to burst. Yoongi pulls him closer, presses his forehead over Jimin’s heart. “I love you, too, princess. So much.”
And Jimin thinks it’s the happiest he’ll ever be— in Yoongi’s arms, drowning in the love they have for each other.
♡