Archive of Our Own

“So. Have you told him we’re coming?”

Yoongi kept his eyes the road, but Jimin saw the brief, thoughtful purse of his lips. He smiled, a little wryly.

“You didn’t tell him.”

“Said I was dropping by,” Yoongi said with a shrug, his voice coming out in a drawl.

Jimin leaned a little closer, eyes flickering to Yoongi’s fingers curled over the steering wheel, his knuckles inked in various designs that trailed down over the back of his hand. They blended fucking well with his new sleeve. Despite it only being halfway done, Jimin thought it looked stupidly good.

Yoongi uncurled his fingers, tapping them over the top of the wheel, then sliding down the circle to grip at the gearshift, shifting it as they sped through an upcoming yellow light.

Jimin glanced back at Yoongi’s face and bit his lip, caught, when he saw Yoongi was looking at him.

“Eyes forward,” Jimin said.

“Mhm,” Yoongi said, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth as he lifted his hand from the shift and placed it on Jimin’s thigh. “What, you nervous?” Yoongi squeezed his leg. “Afraid he won’t like you?”

“No,” Jimin said, feeling pleasantly warm as he relaxed back into the seat. “I’m not worried about that.”

Yoongi’s chuckle was low. “Didn’t think so.”

Jimin let his leg fall open a bit, and Yoongi made another soft sound, a little less of a laugh, but still definitely amused. He didn’t move his hand farther, just squeezed once more before lifting it to shift the car into a lower gear as they approached the studio building.

This was Jimin’s third time coming here. He’d been twice before, the first time with Jungkook and Yoongi, about a week after they met, and the second time with just Jungkook, while Yoongi had driven into the city for work. That had been a couple weeks ago.

They’d been hanging out, on and off, for a couple months now.

Jimin hadn’t been sure, how it would work at first. Hadn’t known if it would, had never really been in anything very long term in, well, ever. Maybe he just hadn’t been meeting the right people.

Because it was good, with Jungkook and Yoongi. It was really fucking good. They didn’t see each other constantly, sometimes went days without seeing each other, the longest having been a stretch of two weeks when they’d all just been fucking busy. Jimin had had exams, Jungkook had had a concert out of town, and Yoongi had gone with him.

The time apart didn’t bother Jimin. The time apart, when Yoongi and Jungkook were together and he wasn’t there, didn’t bother him either. He already knew they had something a little different, maybe a little more. But Jimin didn’t need to fit into that, and he didn’t really want to. He liked how he fit in as it was.

Because the time they did spend together was really. Fucking. Good.

It wasn’t just the sex. God, the sex was fucking good, but he didn’t think it would be so great if they didn’t all click so well. Jimin could simply hang out with Jungkook at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant by campus after class and just talk about music, how Jungkook had been playing since he was a kid, what the first rock song was that Jimin had ever heard. He could watch Yoongi work at his mini in-home studio, quietly chatting during the lulls about what was the big song on the charts now, whether it deserved to be there or not, what did instead.

And yeah, there was also the sex. Jimin had never been with anyone quite like Yoongi or Jungkook, in the sense that they knew exactly what he fucking loved and needed, and got off on giving it to him as much as he did taking it. Jimin hadn’t really thought too much into the fact that he’d gradually stopped sleeping with other people. It wasn’t that he thought they were exclusive or anything, but he just didn’t feel a need to. Wasn’t immensely interested in meeting anyone new either.

No one other than Taehyung

The topic of Kim Taehyung had come up a few times since their first night together. According to Jungkook and Yoongi, he was a bassist that hadn’t settled with a specific band or company, just floated around and answered calls and requests as needed.

Kim Taehyung, like Yoongi, didn’t have much of a social media presence. For someone who made most of his living off his social media posts, this was the first thing Jimin checked. But Taehyung’s Twitter had no photos, and his Instagram had one picture of his bass guitar and, admittedly, a very nice set of hands picking at the strings. All he had to go off of was that, Jungkook’s succinct, “he’s gorgeous as fuck” and the fact that he, Jungkook, and Yoongi fucked around with each other now and then, from what it sounded like.

And, according to Yoongi and Jungkook, that he and Jimin would get along very well.

If Jimin had learned anything in the past few months, it was that Jungkook and Yoongi knew exactly what Jimin liked.

Taehyung had been out of town up until about a week ago, subbing as a bassist for a group touring across the country. He was now apparently getting paid to record some tracks per the request of another artist, working in the studio Jungkook and Yoongi frequented. Jungkook happened to be in the building already, in a separate room practicing with the rest of his band.

It had been a long time coming, but Jimin was finally going to say hello.

More than that, if it went as well as Yoongi and Jungkook seemed to think it would.

Jimin was hopeful.

Yoongi swung into a parking spot, shifting the gear and pulled up the emergency brake. He switched off the engine and popped open his door in one motion, quickly exiting the car but waiting for Jimin to catch up to him on the sidewalk.

When Jimin did, Yoongi smiled, reaching out to rub his hand over Jimin’s waist, briefly. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Jimin said, stepping ahead of him and glancing back over his shoulder, just smug enough. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, his tongue briefly poking out to flick over his lower lip. The silver barbell pierced through the tip glinted in the sunlight.

“Jeans are cute,” he added, falling into to step behind Jimin. He smiled, holding the building door open for Yoongi, but Yoongi tsked and nodded him ahead.

“They’re my favorite,” Jimin said, glancing down at the rips exposing his thighs, the way the denim hugged his skin, the cute silver chain dangling from the side belt loops.

“Dressing to impress,” Yoongi said with a small grin, “hm?”

“I always do,” Jimin said airily, adjusting the cropped sweater slipping down one shoulder. There was a receptionist sitting to the right side of the lobby, and she just nodded and waved at Yoongi to go down the hall without looking up from her phone.

“C’mon,” Yoongi said, his stride lengthening. “He’s at the back.”

Jimin followed him. The studio space wasn’t anything ridiculously fancy or huge, but the equipment was good, and it had three rooms big enough to host a five-person band max, so it worked for them.

Yoongi led them to the studio in the far left corner, a smaller room that Jimin had actually been in when it had just been him and Jungkook. Yoongi looked over his shoulder at Jimin as he leveled with him, then, when Jimin raised his eyebrow expectantly, Yoongi rapped his knuckles on the door.

There wasn’t a response, and Yoongi shrugged a shoulder and pushed down on the handle. It swung open and he stepped inside without hesitation. Jimin followed in the same manner.

The studio looked the same as it had on his previous visit. There was a cushy, rolling desk chair floating near the center, a little ways away from the small soundboard. Towards the right corner of the room was the recording booth, a rectangular room blocked off by a pane of glass inserted into a wood paneled wall, behind which someone stood, dark mop of brown hair bowed over an all-black bass guitar.  

Jimin pulled the door shut behind him, shuffling forward as Yoongi walked over to the soundboard, glancing down at the blinking lights before he picked up an abandoned headset, rocking back on his heels as he pulled it over his head.

Jimin stopped just behind Yoongi, watching as the guy’s fingers moved over the notes, picking quickly at the strings. There was a large, intricate butterfly tattooed on the back of his right hand, nearly covering the entire expanse of it. He was looking down so intensely that it was hard to make out much more than the soft slope of his jaw, the pretty golden tan of his skin. He was wearing a loose, thread-bare T-shirt, dark grey and with natural rips around the collar. When he shifted a little with the instrument, Jimin could see delicate ink patterns smattered all over his neck.

There was low thrum coming from the headphones over Yoongi’s ears, and when there was a long pause in the music, Yoongi leaned forward and pressed a button on the soundboard.

“Taehyung,” he said, dipping down to speak into a mic sitting at the top of the soundboard. “Try doing that last bit faster.”

Taehyung looked up.

Jimin, comically, could feel his eyes widen, felt his lips part a little when Taehyung took in Yoongi, then, almost immediately, shifted his gaze over to Jimin.

Oh.

Oh.

Taehyung was—

Taehyung was raising one eyebrow, dark and perfectly groomed, a sharp contrast to his hair, a pretty mess of dark waves that curled at the nape of his neck and over his ears. One single, dangling silver earring hung through the strands off one ear, and as Jimin took in the perfect angles of his face, his mind stuttered to halt before he could fully absorb the tattoos covering Taehyung’s neck, settling instead on the silver hoop pierced through the left side of his lower lip.

Taehyung was fucking gorgeous.

“This is Jimin,” Yoongi added.

Taehyung didn’t look at Yoongi, actually didn’t look away from Jimin until he turned towards the recording booth’s door.

Jimin took that brief moment to tap Yoongi’s shoulder hard.

“What the fuck, Yoongi, he’s—”

“I didn’t think you’d be here for another hour,” a deep, smooth voice said, and Jimin twisted around on his feet, licking his lips as Taehyung walked towards them, holding the neck of the bass from one hand, pausing a couple feet away. His eyes flickered between them before coming to settle on Jimin again.

Jimin didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact that he was staring at Taehyung’s legs, clad in black denim, and long, long, god, with all the dark clothing blending together, it was like they didn’t have an end.

“Wanted to catch the end of the guys’ session,” Yoongi said. He nodded from Jimin to Taehyung. “Jimin. This is Taehyung.”

Taehyung smiled at Jimin then, a slow, confident curl of his lips that had Jimin smiling back, even as he felt pink blossom in his cheeks.

“Mhm,” Taehyung said, bending down to rest his bass against the chair, testing that the rolling wheels were locked first. This brought him a little closer to Jimin, who didn’t step back when the other boy straightened. “I’ve heard a little about you.”

Jimin glanced at Yoongi, who shrugged with a small smile, leaning up against the wall as he looked between the two of them.

“Yoongi and Jungkook have told me about you, too,” Jimin said, turning back to Taehyung, feeling his breath hitch when he saw Taehyung had stepped even closer.

Taehyung grinned then, and it was such a bright expression, a stark contrast to all his dark clothing, and Jesus he was beautiful.

“Have they,” he said, also glancing at Yoongi, who smirked. “Bad things or good things?”

“Guess it depends on who you’re asking,” Jimin trilled.

Taehyung eyes glinted. “I’m asking you, pretty.”

Jimin licked his lips again, batted his eyelashes just so. “Pretty?”

Taehyung laughed, a low, breathy noise that had Jimin’s toes curling. “Very.” His gaze dragged down Jimin’s body, so slowly Jimin imagined he could feel it, like a physical touch on his skin. “They told me a couple other things,” Taehyung added softly. “Maybe I’ll tell you, if you answer my question.”

Jimin pushed his silvery bangs out of his eyes, looking Taehyung up and down again, eyes settling on the tattoos on his neck. This close, he could see the detail of the rose petals, the vines and leaves connecting them, the delicate shading of veins stretched through the flowers.

He very much wanted to trace those lines with his tongue.

Later.

“It all seemed like good things to me,” Jimin said. He glanced at Yoongi, who was still watching them, arms crossed loosely over his front. Jimin looked back at Taehyung, smiling sweetly. “Did they tell you I was good, too?”

Taehyung blinked, and his front teeth hooked over the side of his lip where the piercing sat, sucking it briefly into his mouth as he considered Jimin, ignoring Yoongi’s soft huff of laughter from the side.

“Yoongi said you were good,” Taehyung finally said. He released the lip ring. “Jungkook had a slightly different opinion.”

Yoongi outright laughed then, even as Taehyung grinned while Jimin put his hands on his hips, feeling haughty. “Jungkook should—”

“Ah, ah,” Taehyung said, pressing his finger to Jimin’s lips, and Jimin fell silent immediately, resisting the urge to flick his tongue over the warm pad. Not yet.

Taehyung leaned forward, pulling down on Jimin’s lip just enough to stretch the skin, and Jimin noticed how his eyes lingered there, knew how plump and pink it must look pushed against his finger, and he told himself again, with less resolve, not yet.

“Jungkook might not be able to get you to behave,” Taehyung said, his voice slow and dripping, like honey. “But I can.”

Jimin could feel Yoongi watching them, but it was Taehyung’s eyes, dark and intent on his face, that prompted Jimin to poke his tongue out and slide it over the rough, callused skin of Taehyung’s pointer finger. Fuck it.

Taehyung, smirking a little, purposefully dragged Jimin’s lip down and pressed hard enough to pull a little gasp from Jimin’s throat before he drew back. They stared at each other for several beats.

“I thought you two would get along,” Yoongi said. Jimin finally looked at him, feeling a little flushed and wholly pleased.

Yoongi pushed himself off the wall. “I’m gonna go check on Jungkook and the guys.” He paused by Jimin, eyes searching. “You coming, baby?”

Jimin glanced at Taehyung, who was settling in the chair, pulling his instrument back on his lap.

“I’ll stay,” he said. “Come get me before you leave.”

Yoongi put his hand on Jimin’s neck, tugging him close to press a kiss to his cheek, which would have been sweet save for way he looked at Taehyung as he pulled back, almost like he was teasing him, flaunting Jimin.

Jimin fucking loved that, and was happy with the way Taehyung’s eyes followed him as he settled delicately on the arm of the chair, hooking one foot under Taehyung’s knee.

Taehyung leaned back, pulling the bass a little closer and absently picking at a string. “So,” he said, quiet, but friendly. “You’re Jimin.” The studio door shut with a soft snap behind Yoongi as he left.

“And you’re Taehyung,” Jimin said, propping his arm on the back of the chair to better balance himself.

Taehyung smiled down at his strings. “I am. I hear you were a fan of the band, before Jungkook joined.”

“That’s right,” Jimin said. “Been following them since their first EP.”

Taehyung glanced over Jimin. “You don’t look like a lot of the other fans that follow them.”

“You mean my lack of tattoos and facial piercings?” Jimin says, pressing a hand to his chest. “How do you know I’m not hiding any underneath my clothes?”

It seemed like Taehyung was trying not to chuckle. He looked back down at his bass. “I guess I don’t know for sure,” he hummed. “Not yet, at least.”

Jimin tried to contain his grin. “That’s a stereotype, you know. We don’t all have to look so hardcore to appreciate what’s good.”

Taehyung did chuckle this time. “I definitely agree.” He glanced at Jimin, and his smile widened. “I like your aesthetic.”

“Aesthetic,” Jimin echoed back with a happy sigh. “You strike me as the type to appreciate a good one when you see it.”

“Oh, I am,” Taehyung said seriously, locking his eyes with Jimin’s.

Jimin let his foot slide down behind Taehyung’s calf. He was feeling more at ease with each passing minute.

“I’ve got a couple ideas, actually, to get some,” Jimin said to him.

Taehyung plucked at a string. “Tattoos or piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jimin teased. “Nothing too crazy. Like you said, I kind of have a brand to keep up. Online, at least.”

Taehyung grinned. “I get the feeling you could make anything work. You know Jungkook showed me your Instagram?” He plucked at another string, then another, picking out deep, steady melody. Jimin shifted, sliding his foot a little further down Taehyung’s leg, and Taehyung glanced up at him without breaking rhythm. “Just a couple photos,” he continued. “After a few, I told him I wanted to see the real thing.”

“Just a few?” Jimin said with a small smile. He leaned forward a bit when Taehyung just grinned in answer and looked back down at the bass. Jimin made sure to simper a little when he asked, “Well, Taehyung. How’s the real thing treating you?”

Taehyung was quiet, save for his hand shifting over the strings. Jimin allowed his own gaze to flicker back over Taehyung’s neck tattoos, the silver hoop in his lip. He had to struggle not to lick his lips again, failing when he watched how Taehyung’s fingers moved between the frets, quick and sure.

Taehyung glanced up at him, catching Jimin openly staring, and his grin widened.

Jimin pursed his lips at Taehyung’s silence, wedging his toes back under Taehyung’s thigh. “Are you ignoring me, Taehyung?”

Taehyung did pause, then, resting his palm over the strings and tilting his head at Jimin. “Definitely not. Not possible. You’ve seen yourself, right?”

Jimin would’ve crossed his arms if he was sat somewhere more stable. Taehyung’s lap, for instance.

“You’re just cute,” Taehyung said with a small laugh, reaching up to stroke a finger solidly under Jimin’s chin. “Real cute. I like it. I like you.”

Jimin felt his cheeks warm, felt his body angle a little more towards Taehyung, almost unconsciously. Taehyung smiled at him before looking back down at the strings and picking up from where he left off.  

Jimin watched him quietly for a little while before speaking again. “How long have you been playing?”

“Mm, since I was like, seven,” Taehyung replied. “I actually learned guitar first? But switched to bass after a few years.”

Jimin reached out to play with the silver chain hanging from Taehyung’s right ear. “Why?”

Taehyung chuckled and he switched the song he was playing to a tune that Jimin recognized immediately.

“This song wouldn’t be this song without the bass,” Taehyung said. He shook his head. “I like being the…” he paused, still playing the same tune. “…backbone of the music.” He leaned forward, looking at Jimin seriously. “Don’t let Jungkook tell you anything less, pretty.”

Jimin’s response was teasing. “Like bass is easier because it’s only got four strings?”

“Shows you what he knows,” Taehyung said with a sharp shake of his head.

Jimin muffled his laugh behind his hand. “Right, right. How long have you known them? Him and Yoongi?”

Taehyung hummed. “Well, I’ve known Yoongi for years. Dated for a bit, too.” He changed the song he was playing without warning, switching to something slower, dragging prettily. “Or whatever you want to call it,” he added at Jimin’s raised eyebrow. Taehyung chuckled. “He met Jungkook maybe a year ago, introduced us, and y’know.” Taehyung bounced a knee, fingers shifting. “We get along.”

Jimin wiggled his toes again, catching the small quirk of Taehyung’s lip when he did this. “That’s one way to put it.”

Taehyung smirked. “And you three? You dating?”

Jimin blinked, then he laughed. “Well, we’re fucking. What the hell did Yoongi tell you?”

“He was just vague enough to make me wonder,” Taehyung said. He glanced up at Jimin, pausing again in the music. “So. You like being their pretty little plaything?”

Jimin felt a hot flush rise to his cheeks, body buzzing at the words, the dark edge to them. He felt his butt slide, weight teetering over the arm of the chair as he and Taehyung looked at each other, a dare in both their eyes.

“I like getting fucked,” Jimin said, shifting forward slowly, his knee pressing on Taehyung’s thigh briefly before sliding on its other side, so he was straddling him. “I like getting fucked good.”

Taehyung blinked, eyes glittering through long, dark eyelashes, before he swung the bass over the chair arm, resting it against its back. Taehyung put his hand on Jimin’s thigh and tugged him closer. “You know something, flower?”

Taehyung’s hand was so firm and sure on him. Jimin liked the weight a lot. He liked the stretch of his jeans against his thighs, denim pulling at his skin as he adjusted himself over Taehyung’s lap. “Tell me, please.”

Taehyung smiled slowly. “You gotta be good to get fucked good.”

Oh, good. Oh, thank god, Jimin thought, already buzzing with anticipation. He pressed his fingers over Taehyung’s collarbone, pushing up until he was touching the black ink on his neck. “I am good.”

Taehyung put his other hand on Jimin’s hip, shifting his hips and rocking Jimin temporarily off balance. Jimin realized in that moment how—how big Taehyung was. His lap nearly took up the whole expanse of the chair seat, the fingers of one hand easily covering the small of Jimin’s back. That, combined with Taehyung’s casual confidence had Jimin shifting over his lap again, just to appreciate Taehyung’s legs under his, solid, large, and warm. And for a beat, they just looked at each other. Jimin was ready to play, but it was Taehyung’s move now.

Taehyung’s next smile was soft, a sharp contrast to the wicked gleam in his eyes. “Show me.”

Jimin exhaled, not even shooting the studio door a glance to check if it was locked. He was already on his knees in between Taehyung’s legs, pulling at the button and, as he touched the cool metal of the zipper, he looked up at Taehyung and whispered, “can I?”

Taehyung leaned forward, bracing his elbows briefly on his knees and took Jimin’s face between his palms. His hands were so large, he was able to practically cover the entire side of his face.

“Since you’re fucking Yoongi and Jungkook,” he started, speaking slowly, like they had all the time in the world. “He’s gone over colors with you?”

Jimin swallowed, his heart pumping in excitement. “Red means stop. Yellow means slow down. Green means go.”

Taehyung shifted one hand back so it was petting through Jimin’s hair. “Mm. And what about when your mouth is full?”

“I’ll pinch you.”

“Good boy.”

“I told you,” Jimin said, toying with the zipper.

Taehyung’s eyes were dark and fuck, fuck he was gorgeous. “You did, didn’t you?” he said, finding a grip in Jimin’s hair, a hold he steadily tightened until Jimin felt his eyes sting. A small noise leaked out from his throat, and he saw Taehyung’s mouth curve, felt his own cock twitch in his jeans in direct response. He released Jimin’s hair, and Jimin tried not to outwardly look too disappointed, to pay attention to what Taehyung was saying. “Don’t you ever hesitate to give me a color, Jimin. Or pinch me, okay? We can always stop.”

“Okay,” Jimin said. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, “You sound like Yoongi.”

Taehyung laughed a little. “Where do you think he learned it from?”

“Yoongi is older than you.”

Taehyung hummed, raising an eyebrow. “That doesn’t mean anything, petal.” He tapped Jimin on the leg. “Now tell me. You understand?”

Jimin nodded. “I understand.” He flicked at the zipper of Taehyung’s pants. “Can I?”

Taehyung slid his hand back to cup Jimin’s face again. He pulled him forward a couple inches, and with how close they were, it was easy for Jimin to lean into the movement and tilt his head to properly press their lips together.

There was a brief moment where their mouths just slid over each other, and Jimin made another small sound when he felt the cool sliver of metal against his mouth. Then Taehyung was tugging him closer, tilting Jimin’s head for him, sideways, then up as he kissed him hard, hard enough to make Jimin gasp, hard enough to bruise, teeth tugging his mouth open so he could lick into his mouth.

“Can you what?” Taehyung said after several moments. His voice was steady, and low, despite the fact that Jimin was currently sucking on the piercing in his lower lip.

“Umm,” Jimin pulled off, then, thinking better of it, came back to kiss around the hoop some more. “Can I suck your cock?”

Taehyung grinned, so Jimin ended up half kissing his teeth, but he smiled back at him, tugging more insistently on the zipper. “Please?”

“Oh, you’re polite,” Taehyung hummed, running his thumb roughly over Jimin’s tingling lower lip. “Polite and pretty. A good boy, hm?”

“Yes,” Jimin breathed. He looked up at Taehyung, gaze dragging over the shine of his mouth, back down to the floral tattoos inked all over his neck.

Taehyung tilted his head to the side, in a way that showed them off a little more. “You like them.”

“Yes,” Jimin groaned, despite it not being a question.

“Me too,” Taehyung said with a crooked smile, tracing over them with his own fingers. He was staring at Jimin still. “I like pretty things.”

Jimin pressed forward, starting to feel a little desperate. “I’ll look—I’ll look so pretty for you.”

Taehyung let his hand drop from the flowers, putting it on the top of Jimin’s head and gently tugging him forward. “I know, petal. Go ahead.”

Jimin didn’t even register yanking down the zipper, was more focused on the way Taehyung lifted his hips, just enough for Jimin to pull his pants down to his mid-thigh. The line of Taehyung’s cock was very visible, straining against the black cloth of his boxers.

“Oh,” Jimin mumbled, tugging down that waistband too and swallowing his groan. “Fuck, you’re big.”

Taehyung tugged on Jimin’s hair, pulling him closer. Jimin looked up, internally preening when he saw how intently Taehyung was watching him.

He maintained eye contact as he wrapped his lips around the tip and slowly sank down.

Taehyung hissed out a breath, teeth catching on his lip piercing again. “Oh, fuck, honey, look at you,” Taehyung sighed, pressing his back against the chair and thrusting his hips up into Jimin’s mouth without warning.

Jimin breathed harshly through his nose, gagging a little but not pulling away. He moaned instead, weakly, hands scrambling at Taehyung’s thighs and squeezing. More. More.

“Been in here all of—” Taehyung pulled hard on Jimin’s hair, forcing Jimin to tilt his head up and look at him. Taehyung was grinning. “—ten minutes and already got my cock down your throat. N’look how good you take it—” he grunted, fucking up into Jimin’s mouth again. “So pretty, Jimin, so pretty for me, sweetheart.”

The low baritone of Taehyung’s voice had pleasant goosebumps sprouting all over Jimin’s skin, and Taehyung was fucking up into his mouth so quick and fast there was already saliva building under his tongue, wetting the corners of his lips. It made the hot, thick slide of his cock, in and out and in and out even better. The bass leaning against the chair was wobbling a bit, but neither of them paid it any mind.

Jimin reveled in the situation, the position he had put himself in: on his knees, in between the legs of someone he’d just met, tears blurring his vision and a firm hand in his hair. It felt like stepping into a scalding shower, satisfying and so incredibly good. He wanted to stay like that for ages, until his knees bruised and his voice came out scratchy. He could do it. He wanted to.

Jimin was so hard, and Taehyung was still growling obscenities at him as he fucked him, tip of his cock hitting the back of his throat with each thrust of his hips.

“Yoongi and Jungkook aren’t enough for you, huh?” he said, planting his feet more firmly on the ground on either side of Jimin, giving him better leverage to roll his hips against Jimin’s face, fuck into his mouth deeper. Jimin could hear himself gagging, but he just clutched Taehyung harder, moaned louder around him. “Greedy little thing, I’m gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else, h—” he broke off, leaning forward and hushing softly, and only then did Jimin register the tears running down his cheeks, the fact that his last moan had sounded more like a sob. Taehyung lifted him up, leaning forward and pressing soft kisses across his cheeks. “What’s your color, petal?”

“Green,” Jimin gasped wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s cock and stroking. “I’m—please, yes—don’t stop—”

Taehyung wrapped his fingers around Jimin’s wrist, pushing his hand back onto Taehyung’s thigh. “Pinch me if you need to stop, hm?”

“I know,” Jimin groaned. “Puh—please, I want’t—”  

Taehyung used his other than to push Jimin’s bangs away from his forehead before twisting back in the strands of his hair. “Okay, c’mere, sweeatheart,” he murmured, guiding Jimin back towards his cock, slick and shining with Jimin’s spit.

He chuckled when Jimin opened his mouth to swallow him back down, holding him just far enough by the roots of his hair. “God, no wonder Jungkook loves you. You’re so eager.”

“Pleas—" Jimin gasped, looking up at him. What the fuck. Jimin felt dizzy with desperation, just wanted—just wanted to feel Taehyung at the back of his throat while he told Jimin what a desperate little slut he was.

He whined, pulling against Taehyung’s grip, and gasped when Taehyung yanked him back by the hair so hard he was forced to blink up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what Yoongi and Jungkook are letting you get away with,” Taehyung said, his voice soft. “But you do what I want when I tell you to do it.” Taehyung leaned forward, brushing his lips up Jimin’s neck. Jimin could feel the delicate silver hoop, cool against his flushed skin, and then Taehyung said, “ask me nicely.”

“For what,” Jimin burst out. “For your cock? Fuck, I want it, please, I just want—want you in my mouth, god, please god, y-you—”

He felt Taehyung grin, felt the sharp sting of his teeth nipping at his neck, and he moaned, the noise muffling when Taehyung jerked his head forward enough for Jimin to look him in the eyes.

“Taehyung,” he said, raising his eyebrows when Jimin didn’t respond. He clicked his tongue. “Maybe this is why you shouldn’t fuck boys you just met, Jiminie. You already forget my name?”

“T—” Jimin flustered, torn between egging him on just a little more, and wanting to just say his name, to see the way his eyes would light up. “Taehyung,” he breathed, and there, there, Taehyung’s eyes gleamed, and Jimin, Jimin was so hard it actually hurt.

“Open your mouth,” Taehyung whispered.

Jimin did. He felt saliva stick briefly between his lips as he parted them, whimpering a little when Taehyung pushed two fingers into his mouth, pressing on his tongue until Jimin coughed, spit dribbling over his chin.

“Fuck,” Taehyung mumbled. “Fuck, you’re so good. I don’t think Yoongi and Jungkook deserve you.”

Jimin blinked, narrowing his eyes challengingly, as if to ask and you do? His eyelashes were wet, and his dick was rubbing painfully against the denim of his jeans. Taehyung’s fingers were still pressing on his tongue, and, slowly, Jimin closed his lips around them and suckled at the digits, keeping his eyes on Taehyung as he did.

“You—” Taehyung growled, and then his fingers were hooking behind Jimin’s bottom teeth, tugging him back towards his crotch and simultaneously opening his jaw as he did. Jimin was quick to swallow him down again, relishing in the wet stretch of his lips around the base of Taehyung’s cock.

Taehyung sighed over him, and, for a couple minutes, he didn’t do anything except pet his fingers through Jimin’s hair as Jimin bobbed his head up and down. It was noisy, and Jimin was barely lifting up to breathe, could feel spit dripping from his lips. The urge to reach down and rub himself through his jeans was stronger than ever, but he knew not to, knew despite Taehyung not having said anything, that he wasn’t supposed to.

The thought had Jimin whining around Taehyung’s cock as he hollowed his cheeks, and then both Taehyung’s hands were in his hair, stilling him when he was about halfway down.

“Relax, petal,” Taehyung whispered, and slowly began pushing Jimin down the rest of the way. “That’s it, hmm, fuck. You were made for this, huh?”

Jimin’s hips jerked forward, rubbing briefly against one of Taehyung’s legs.

“Heh, no,” Taehyung said, and then his foot was jamming against the side of Jimin’s thigh, keeping him still. “Don’t fucking move.”

And then he began to move Jimin’s head for him, faster, more harshly, so much so that Jimin couldn’t do much but keep his mouth open, relax his throat, and take it.

Taehyung’s grip was so tight in his hair that Jimin wasn’t sure anymore whether that or the constant tap to the back of his throat was making him tear up. He could hear Taehyung panting a little over him, gritting out rough curses, interspersed with mutters that went something like, “pretty, pretty flower for me, taking me so well, Jiminie” and Jimin would have been wailing if his mouth wasn’t so full.

Taehyung switched, from moving Jimin’s head for him to holding it still, fucking up into his mouth with just his hips again as he kept him in place, one hand in Jimin’s hair, the other on the back of his neck. Jimin was scrabbling for the ends of his shirt, desperate to hold on to something, hold him closer, wanted to tell Taehyung he just needed to taste his cum—

And Taehyung was letting out a breathy noise that sounded like a laugh, arching a little bit off the chair, and he didn’t stop fucking into Jimin’s mouth. “I’m close,” he grit out.

Jimin moaned, his vision blurring, jaw aching, but, then there was warmth at the back of Jimin’s throat. Jimin could feel his eyelashes, damp against his skin as he closed his eyes and relaxed, let Taehyung ride out his orgasm. Jimin could feel cum dribble out one side of his mouth, and he went to pull back, to swallow. Taehyung muttered something under his breath, cutting off Jimin’s quiet noise as he gripped Jimin tighter by the hair and pulled him forward. More cum spilled past his lips, slick and red, and Jimin moaned deep in this throat, swallowing around Taehyung’s cock then exhaling hard through his nose.

“Fuck,” Taehyung whispered, his hands sliding out of Jimin’s hair. Jimin pulled off slowly, kissing around the tip before he backed away.  

And that was when the door clicked open.

Jimin turned his head at the sound of Yoongi and Jungkook’s voices, but Taehyung stopped him mid-motion and pulled his face up towards his in a fierce kiss.

Startled and sensitive, Jimin whimpered as Taehyung licked into his mouth, tasting his own cum, and murmured in a low, low voice, “you are such a good boy.”

There was cum on his chin, at the back of his tongue, and Taehyung was looking at Jimin like he was the most wonderful thing he’d seen in ages.  

“Wow, seriously.”

Taehyung pulled back, carelessly smug as he looked to left, where Jungkook’s unimpressed voice had come from. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that his dick was out. 

Jimin, still on his knees between Taehyung’s legs, turned to look too.

Jungkook was walking over to them, lips slightly pursed and eyebrows slanted. Yoongi hung back by the door, but his eyes on Jimin were glimmering.

Jimin shivered, felt his hard cock rub against the inside of his jeans again.

“How was your session?” Taehyung asked. He was back to petting his fingers through Jimin’s hair.

“Kickass,” Jungkook said, stopping right next to Jimin and nudging him with a toe. “Seriously, Jimin. Leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already on your knees for someone.”

Jimin felt a little hazy, but the words still made him grin up at Jungkook.

“Jealous?” he asked, smiling widening at the rasp in his voice.

Taehyung’s fingers tickled down over the front of his throat. “Not just someone, Jungkook, me.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook grinned, bending forward just enough to swipe his thumb over the cum on Jimin’s chin and pop it into his mouth.

All three of them heard the whine Jimin tried to muffle.

“Well,” Yoongi said, leaning against the wall by the door. “I think he’s ready to go.”

“Think so?” Taehyung hummed, eyes flicking down to the bulge in Jimin’s jeans.

“Mhm,” Jungkook said, tugging a little on the hair by the nape of Jimin’s neck. “Ready, Jiminie?”

Jimin nodded.

“I can walk him out,” Taehyung said to Jungkook and Yoongi.

Yoongi sought out Jimin, and when their eyes met, Jimin nodded reassuringly, leaning a bit more heavily against Taehyung’s legs.

“Okay,” Yoongi said, jerking his chin at Jungkook. “C’mon, Kook. Tae, pick up that fucking bass, mm?”

As Taehyung swooped to lean the bass back against the chair from where it had fallen, unnoticed by either of them, Jungkook bent down to whisper in Jimin’s ear, “I’m gonna fucking wreck you.” He dropped a kiss to Jimin’s temple before walking back towards Yoongi.

And yeah, Jimin was so fucking hard.

When the door shut behind Yoongi and Jungkook, Taehyung dipped down, wrapping his arms around Jimin’s middle and lifting him as he half stood. Taehyung then twisted, plopping Jimin where he’d just been sitting.

“One sec,” he said against Jimin’s lips, and then he fully straightened, going over to a bag shaped for a guitar, digging in a side pocket until he pulled out a dark blue cleaning cloth.

Jimin smiled when Taehyung walked back over to him, taking the cloth to the cum on Jimin’s face and gently wiping. It was so soft against his skin.

“I’m flattered,” Jimin mumbled, voice still hoarse. He thought about what Jungkook might do soon to make it rougher, and a tingle of arousal made his toes curl. He fidgeted in the chair, blinking up at Taehyung to focus.

“You’re much more precious than my instruments,” Taehyung said to him.

“High praise, coming from a musician,” Jimin said, corner of his mouth quirking up.

Taehyung grinned. “I’d rather play you than any of my instruments, any day.”

“Cheesy line.”

Taehyung tossed the cloth over the chair arm, leaning down to kiss Jimin’s on the lips as his thumb stroked over Jimin’s now dry cheek. “You sound so pretty, though, flower.”

Jimin flushed.

“So,” Taehyung continued. He had both hands planted on the arms of the chair and was leaning close in Jimin’s space. Wholly unbothered, Jimin hooked his arms around Taehyung’s neck, hanging off him a bit as he waited for him to continue. “I’ve got a show next week. Filling in for their bass. You want to come?”

“Will you give me VIP status?” Jimin said, grinning against Taehyung’s mouth.

“Backstage passes,” Taehyung said back with his own grin. “Yoongi and Jungkook won’t even get that. Just you, petal. If you want.”

“I do,” Jimin said, tightening his arms around Taehyung’s neck, letting his fingers tickle over the black ink.

“Anything you want,” Taehyung said with a smile.

Jimin hummed, pleased, before tilting his head up to kiss Taehyung again. It was slow, languid, a little too much tongue to be sweet, but Jimin loved that.

Taehyung pulled back first, briefly scritching a finger under Jimin’s chin before he went back to his bass bag, digging around in another inside pocket.  Jimin scooted forward on the chair, curious.

Taehyung straightened with something wrapped in his fingers. He made his way back to Jimin and offered his other hand, which Jimin accepted, allowing himself to be pulled into a standing position.

Jimin looked down at Taehyung’s fist expectantly, lips parting when he uncurled his fingers to reveal a sleek, black, silicone butt plug. It was thick, with a dark green tint to the glass gem that was embedded in the handle.

Jimin looked up at Taehyung with a grin. “Is that for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Taehyung laughed, and it was kind of cute, almost a giggle, but not quite. “I’d like you to wear it to the concert.”

Oh.

Something hot and bold stirred inside Jimin, and without a moment of hesitation, he took the plug from Taehyung’s hand and pushed it into his front pocket.

“That’s it?” Taehyung said, a happy expression taking up his face.

“I’m looking forward to it,” was Jimin’s reply.

“It’s like an angel came to visit,” Taehyung said, pulling Jimin close for one more kiss before swinging back and leading him by the hand out the studio. “God have mercy.”

Jimin grinned.

As they were walking out the building’s front door—Jimin could see Yoongi’s back facing them, talking to Jungkook through the rolled down window—Jimin, feeling the pressure of the plug against his upper thigh, said to Taehyung, “so you just carry this thing around with you everywhere?”

Taehyung grinned, slowing a little as they approached. “Well, I was expecting it to just be Yoongi today.”

Jimin took a beat to fully understand the implication of Taehyung’s words, and then he felt his cock, which had almost started to calm down, fully twitch at the image of Taehyung working Yoongi open with the fat plug snug in Jimin’s pocket.

Holy fuck.

“Hey,” Yoongi said when Jimin let go of Taehyung’s hand and stepped up to the car. Yoongi straightened, and from inside, Jimin could see Jungkook, with his elbow braced against the door and his chin propped in his hand, looking Jimin up and down.

“Bye,” Jimin said, turning around to face Taehyung one more time and giggling when Taehyung kissed him on the cheek.

“Bye, flower. You should call me. I didn’t even get to make a joke how I’m all about—” his eyes dipped, down to the flare of Jimins hips, the jeans curving around his skin. “—that bass.”

Jimin could almost hear Yoongi and Jungkook rolling their eyes, but he had to try really hard not to laugh.

“If you want me to call you, you’ll keep it that way,” he said, trying to sound stern, but his lips twitched when Taehyung grinned at him, unabashed.

Yoongi led Jimin around to the open driver’s door, where his seat was folded forward, giving Jimin room to climb in the back. He immediately situated himself in the middle of the backseat, leaning forward over the console to rest heavily against Jungkook’s shoulder.

Bracing his hand high up on Jungkook’s thigh, Jimin waved Taehyung goodbye as Yoongi sat down in the car, shutting the driver door with quiet snap.

Jimin was suddenly acutely aware of his situation, the fact that he was still hard in his jeans, that Jungkook and Yoongi were probably not far off, and had walked in on him with their fuck buddy’s cum all over his chin.

“You like him?” Yoongi was saying to Jimin, and his lips were on his neck, breath controlled and heavy.

“I do,” Jimin said when Taehyung winked before stepping back inside the building. Jimin turned his attention back to Jungkook, smiling sweetly. “You were right.”

Jungkook reached for Jimin’s fingers on his leg, tugging them up until Jimin was pressing on his cock. Jimin held back a shiver, wondering what Jungkook had been thinking, what Yoongi, who was still pressing kisses up and down his neck, had been saying to Jungkook through the window to get him this hard already.

“You’re such a little slut,” Jungkook said smugly, nudging for Jimin to unzip his pants, and Jimin did with a grin. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Easy,” Jimin teased when Jungkook rolled his hips up against Jimin’s palm.

“Let’s get you home,” Yoongi husked into his neck.  

-

The thing was, neither Jimin nor Jungkook felt like waiting that long, and it was a scramble of how fast Jungkook could recline his seat while Jimin yanked open his fly, sifting his fingers down the front of Jungkook’s boxers and pulling out his cock.

“Can’t fucking wait, can you,” Yoongi said, his voice dark as he drove. Jimin, bent over the center console, felt Yoongi’s arm move against his hip as he shifted the gears of the car.

“Gotta have something in his mouth,” Jungkook said, groaning when Jimin suckled on the tip of his cock before scooting forward more over the console, allowing him to sink down till his lips were right at the base. Jungkook moaned, pressing his head back against the carseat and digging his fingers in Jimin’s hair. “God, I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Explains why you were fucking up so much at the end of practice,” Yoongi said.

Jimin, meanwhile, was rubbing his crotch up against where the console and the seat came together, moaning around Jungkook’s cock as he ground against the corner, with Jungkook too far gone to try and stop him, and Yoongi keeping his attention pointedly on the road.

Although Jimin knew his desperate rutting didn’t escape Yoongi’s notice.

This egged him on further. Jimin’s hips slowly ground against the leather as he whined around Jungkook, trying to be as messy as possible. Saliva dripped past his lips, down his chin and all over Jungkook’s lap, and Jungkook groaned lowly, sliding one hand around to fully brace against the back of Jimin’s head and push him down further.

Jimin’s entire body shuddered.

“Mouth’s so good,” Jungkook mumbled, bracing his other hand against the car door. “Fucking—made for cock, pretty fucking mouth—Yoongi—”

“I’m driving,” Yoongi said shortly.

He sounded tense, and Jimin would have grinned if he could.

“—just wanna—” Jungkook snickered, his fingers almost gently tickling the back of Jimin’s neck before he gripped hard again, keeping Jimin’s head in place as he fucked up into his mouth. Jimin gagged, on reflex, but didn’t try and pull away, would’ve moaned if Jungkook didn’t repeat the motion again. “—wanna tell you how good he is,” Jungkook said. His hips picked up a rhythm, his hand firm on Jimin’s head.

“S’that so,” Yoongi said, the dark, skeptical tone of his voice causing Jimin to rut his hips harder. “He’s been nothing but a little slut, babe. Two cocks in twenty minutes?”

Jimin popped off of Jungkook at that, shooting Yoongi a haughty look. “How’s that different from last night?”

There was a rough little tap to the side of his face, then Jungkook trying to tug him back towards his crotch. Jimin turned, but not before Yoongi cut him a warning glance.

Jimin felt a thrill of pleasure shoot through him, but his whimper was cut off when Jungkook pushed his cock back into his mouth, and he was quick to adjust, sinking back down and relaxing his throat for him.

“—s’so—” Jungkook’s voice broke, and his moaned, loud and long, snapping his hips hard enough to bring tears immediately to Jimin’s eyes. “Jimin, Jimin—” he pressed his hands against the back of Jimin’s head against, fingers tugging at his hair as he began to fuck his mouth in earnest. “—so, good, fuck, little fuckin’ cockslut, take it so well, ‘Min—”

“Don’t come yet,” Yoongi said sharply.

“Y-Yoongi—” Jungkook gasped. His hips stuttered, and Jimin slid off, slowly, tightening his lips until he pulled off the tip with a pop. There was tears and spit smearing all over his face again, but he paid that no mind, taking a wet breath before pressing his lips back against Jungkook and leaving teasing, suckling kisses up and down the length of his cock.

“We’ve got eight minutes until we’re home,” Yoongi said. Jimin felt him shift the gear again, then put his hand on Jungkook’s thigh. “Wait.”

“I’m—I was—” Jungkook gasped when Jimin flicked his tongue over the tip. “Fuck, shit.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi growled.

“Mm’just,” Jimin hummed, licking a fat, wet stripe up the underside of Jungkook’s cock, then dipping back down to mouth at his balls. Jungkook let out a keen, leg jerking under Yoongi’s hand. “Kissing,” Jimin said innocently against Jungkook’s skin.

“S-such—mm—good boy,” Jungkook slurred, and Jimin’s grin was wicked.

“God, baby,” Yoongi said, and at the angle he was at, Jimin could clearly see Yoongi’s squeeze Jungkook’s thigh, hard enough to make the younger boy jerk underneath them both. “All bark and no bite, I fucking swear. Gonna let this little slut make you come before I say you can?”

“Yoongi—” Jungkook moaned. “Fuck, fuck, I—”

“Jungkookie,” Jimin breathed, fully suckling at his balls now, wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s cock and firmly stroking. “Don’t you wanna come? Won’t it feel so good, coming in my throat like that?”

“Shut—shut up—” Jungkook grit, but he rolled his hips up into Jimin’s little fist.

“Make me,” Jimin goaded, lifting his head so he could flick his tongue over the tip of Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, abruptly shoving his fingers into Jimin’s mouth. “Suck,” he said in a harsh whisper, knocking Jimin’s hand off of him and starting to pump himself. “Can’t fucking shut up unless you have something in your mouth—” he groaned, pausing when his fingers were wrapped around the base of his cock before roughly tapping it against Jimin’s cheek, still damp with tears and spit. Jimin moaned, rucking himself even further across the console, his hips moving roughly against the car’s leather now.

“Baby,” Yoongi said, and Jimin could tell Yoongi was talking to him now. “You know you’re not allowed to come, don’t you?”

Jimin whined around Jungkook’s fingers, and Jungkook, panting, had the gall to smirk, smearing precum across Jimin’s skin as he thrust his fingers deeper into his mouth before hooking them roughly into Jimin’s cheek.

“Are we close, Yoongi?” Jungkook said, his eyes hot on Jimin’s face.

“Three minutes.”

Jungkook grunted and wiggled his fingers, signaling for Jimin to open his mouth, which he did, readily, making a pleased noise when Jungkook guided his cock back inside.

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” he said, and Jimin nodded as much as was possible before Jungkook cradled his head in his hands and fucked his hips up.

Yoongi was silent, but his presence, just out of Jimin’s field of vision, was incredibly heavy, and he thought about how much trouble he was going to be in when they got home, moaning loud and desperate around Jungkook’s cock, thrusting in and out of his mouth. Jimin’s vision was blurry, tears clumping his eyelashes together, and drool dripping off his chin and onto Jungkook’s lap.

“Messy—fucking slut—” Jungkook was muttering above him, his hips moving faster. “Lis’en t’you—Yoongi, Yoongi listen how much he—ughfuck—loves it, fuck—”

They weren’t quite home yet. Jimin guessed there was maybe a minute and a half to go, and he was determined. He pressed forward even more, most of his body now bent over the center console, and then Jimin moaned, loudly, didn’t try to swallow down his gags. Jungkook liked that, liked making him choke on it.

“Fuck,” Jungkook said, almost a whine. Jimin’s body was starting to ache, curved and held at a weird angle, but Jungkook’s hips were starting to lose rhythm, and he was gasping half utterances of Yoongi and Jimin’s name.

Jimin reached down, fingers tickling down over Jungkook’s balls, his nail lightly scraping over his perineum.

“Fuck,” Jungkook choked, and Jimin felt his skin tighten under his fingers. He relished in the burning in his neck, the rawness of his lips stretched around his cock as Jungkook held his head still, fucked his throat raw. He shuddered in pleasure at the thought of how fucked out his voice was going to sound for the rest of the day, at the hot tension of Yoongi’s body just inches from his own as he took Jungkook deep in his throat, over and over and over again.

“I’m gonna come—” Jungkook moaned, his voice rising in pitch at the end, and with one final jerk of his hips, he was coming down Jimin’s throat, holding him in place as he rolled his hips. Jimin felt the warmth dripping down the back of his throat, for the second time in less than an hour and goddamn if that wasn’t amazing. Jimin reminded himself to breathe through his nose as Jungkook held him in place for a few long moments, gasping up at the car roof.

“Fuck,” Jimin moaned when he finally pulled off, laughing at how fucked out he sounded, his voice husky and ragged. Dimly, he registered that the car was slowing down, and straightening, he could see the townhomes that made up Yoongi and Jungkook’s neighborhood passing by in the window.

“Couldn’t wait another minute?” Yoongi said.

Jungkook laughed too, cupping Jimin’s grinning face in one hand and clumsily trying to fasten up his jeans. “Umm. Why wait.”

Jimin pushed himself back a little, shifting to face Yoongi, whose expression was unreadable, but there was an attractive, tense set to his jaw that Jimin kind of wanted to lick. “Yoongi,” he cooed. “Thanks for driving so safely.”

Yoongi didn’t look at him, parking the car and unbuckling his seatbelt without a word. He cut off the ignition, and, still without looking at Jimin, opened the driver’s door, stepping out and swiveling to fold down the seat.

“Get out.”

Jimin, wiping the back of his hand across his face, stepped out of car. Yoongi shut the door and immediately pressed Jimin up against it.

“I want you to go inside,” Yoongi said, pushing his keys into Jimin’s palm. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide as he flicked them across Jimin’s face, still a mess of drool and tears. His lips were probably so swollen. Jimin could feel them tingling, could still taste Jungkook there, and maybe Taehyung too, if he licked around his teeth enough.  

Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s chin with his other hand while Jimin’s fingers curled around the keys.

“Go in the bedroom and take your clothes off, mm?” Yoongi said, his fingers digging into his jaw. “Stand by the end of the bed. You know the way I like?”

Jimin knew, very well. He tried not to smile. “Yes.”

“If you’re not ready by the time I come up, I’m adding to your count. You’re at eight now.” Yoongi leaned forward and, very gently, pressed their lips together. There was no doubt traces of Jungkook’s cum still present, and Jimin thought he might melt when Yoongi pulled back and licked his own lips, the silver barbell from his tongue piercing glinting in the sunlight. He smiled at Jimin. “Understand?”

Jimin’s response was more breathless. “Yes.”

Yoongi pushed Jimin’s head to the side, tattooed knuckles pressed to his chin, and Jimin eagerly took his cue, scurrying to the front door. He glanced over his shoulder as he put in the key, grinning when he saw Yoongi was watching him, leaning against the car’s driver’s side as he waited for Jungkook to come out.

The latch retracted and Jimin swept inside, walking up the stairs and into Yoongi’s bedroom in the back corner. He wiped at his face with his shirt before tossing it in the corner with the laundry, the rest of his clothes following quickly. He took care with his jeans, so as not to displace the plug.  

Jimin’s breath was coming in harsh little pants, his heart pumping in anticipation as he walked over to the end of Yoongi’s bed. When he heard the front door open below him, Jimin shifted his legs apart and bent forwards, holding himself up by straightening his arms and pressing his palms to the edge of the mattress. He took care to keep his back flat, swallowing when he heard shuffling footsteps coming up the stairs.

He hadn’t bothered to close the bedroom door behind him, but when he peeked over his shoulder, it was Jungkook coming through.

He grinned as he approached. “Eyes in front of you, Jiminie. You know what Yoongi likes.”

“You’re not Yoongi,” Jimin snipped, but turned his eyes ahead anyway. “And I just sucked your brains out through your dick.”

Jungkook slid his hand firmly up the back of Jimin’s body, from his butt all the way to his neck, before he climbed onto to the bed from the side and sat up against the wall, facing Jimin with a mild expression.

“You’re really asking for it,” he mused, flipping his phone between his fingers. “You want your punishment that bad?”

Jimin smiled, shooting Jungkook a sultry look. “I like how pretty I look, all red and pink.”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened. He looked down at his phone though, after a beat, opening it up to some game app as he said, “Look even prettier when you’re crying, sweetie.”

“What, you’re not gonna watch?” Jimin scowled, leaning forward a little more, trying to get Jungkook’s attention. “Not gonna see how—”

“Jimin. Really?”

Jimin stopped short at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, shooting him a half-sheepish, half-coy smile over his shoulder. Yoongi was leaning against the door frame, his shirt already off. Jimin loved being able to see the full expanse of his tattoos, the black ink curling around the ridges of his ribs, the half-formed sleeve creeping up from the patterns on his hand. And Yoongi knew it.

He knew what Jimin liked.

Jimin bit his lower lip, keeping his eyes locked with Yoongi’s as he approached from the doorway.

“It’s twelve, now,” Yoongi said. “Couldn’t even get in the position I like? Legs straight. Eyes forward, baby.”

Jimin’s toes curled in anticipation. When he looked back straight in front of him, although Jungkook was looking down at his phone, Jimin could see a smirk was tugging at the corners of his lips. Jimin felt his cock twitch, and that was when Yoongi’s palm came down hard on his ass.

Jimin gasped, buckling on his elbows for a split second. Jungkook hadn’t finished tsking down at his phone before Jimin shoved himself back up again, just in time for Yoongi’s next slap.   

This time, though, Jimin moaned.

“Yeah?” Yoongi said from behind him, followed by another hard smack, right in the same spot. Jimin squeezed the covers, breath hitching as his cock throbbed.

Jungkook’s smirk deepened.

When Jimin nodded, Yoongi squeezed the flesh of his ass, right where he’d spanked. “Tell me how many,” he said, releasing his grip to smooth his hand over the tingling flesh briefly before slapping it again.

“Four,” Jimin moaned.

“And tell me why,” Yoongi said. The sound of skin on skin was a sharp crack of sound. Jimin whimpered, hips rolling forward away from the sting before he arched his back, presenting himself with another small noise. Yoongi’s sixth slap came down on his other cheek.

“Better answer,” Jungkook teased, tapping on his phone.

“B-because—ah—" Seven. “I was b—aah—bad.”

Yoongi’s palm soothed over the irritated flesh of Jimin’s ass. It was starting to hurt now, hurt enough to bring a different sting to Jimin’s eyes as tears welled. Yoongi didn’t tend to hold back. Every smack was delivered the same way, hard and sharp.

And Jimin was so, so fucking hard.

Yoongi knew what Jimin liked.

“How?” Yoongi was asking him. “Tell me how, Jimin.” Another hard slap. A hot tear spilled over Jimin’s lashline, and he didn’t even need to look to know how badly his cock was leaking.

“I—I sucked T-Taehy—”

“No, baby,” Yoongi interrupted, gentle voice a contrast to the stinging blows he was delivering. Jimin panted, meeting Jungkook’s eyes briefly when he glanced up. “That’s not why I’m mad at all.”

“We know what a little cockslut you are,” Jungkook said in a drawl. “Knew wouldn’t be able to help yourself.”

Jimin’s fist tightened in the bedsheets, glowering because Jungkook was back to looking down at his phone.

“Behaving so good now, aren’t you,” Yoongi hummed. He was rubbing soothing circles over Jimin’s ass. “Because you weren’t in the car.” He smacked Jimin again. “Didn’t wait til we got home—”

“I-I couldn’t help it,” Jimin argued. “You j-just s—ah!”

Jimin gasped at the tenth hit, falling forward on his elbows.

“I was driving though, baby,” Yoongi said. “You knew that wasn’t safe, right? Knew you were making me mad? Knew you weren’t supposed to make Jungkook come?

Jimin looked up at Jungkook, but he still wasn’t watching.

Jimin whined.

“Words,” Yoongi said. “Answer me, Jimin.”

“I-I knew,” Jimin panted. He shifted his arms forward just so on the bed, closer to Jungkook’s outstretched legs. “Knew I was making you mad.”

“Can’t help it, can you?” Yoongi crooned, still sliding his hand up and down over Jimin’s stinging skin. “Can’t help that you’re such a fucking cumslut.”

“No,” Jimin whispered. He inched forward a little more, freezing and jerking when Yoongi slapped him, but more lightly, on the inside of his thigh.  

“Stop moving, mm? Think you’re being clever?”

Jungkook grinned. He was still looking at his phone.

“He’s not paying attention!” Jimin burst out, yelping when Yoongi spanked him. The hits were always harder in the end, and Jimin was too, his face flushed and eyes wet.

“Aw,” Jungkook said. His eyes flickered to Jimin’s, just for a moment. “Bet he wishes Taehyung was watching.”

Jimin’s breath stuttered, elbows locking up. Jungkook wasn’t looking at him anymore, but he must have noticed the shift, because he hummed thoughtfully down at his phone screen.

Yoongi noticed, too. He was using both hands now to rub over Jimin’s ass, so incredibly gentle. “Oh, baby. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

Jimin bit his lip.

“You can tell us,” Yoongi soothed.

Jungkook looked up then, raising his pierced eyebrow as he waited for Jimin to answer.

“Yes, I’d like that,” Jimin whispered.

Jungkook smiled. He kept his hand curled around the phone but did lean forward, far enough to press a kiss to Jimin’s mouth. “Good boy,” he hummed. “But you have two more till Yoongi’s finished. You all green?”

Yoongi’s fingers pressed into Jimin’s backside.

Jimin nodded, sneaking Jungkook a smile, which Jungkook returned with a wink.

“You gonna count for me?” Yoongi said.

“I’ll count,” Jimin breathed.

Jimin didn’t bother trying to muffle his shout when Yoongi landed the next slap across his ass, hitting right in the center and dragging his fingers across his crack when he pulled away.

“Eleven,” Jimin gasped. His head bowed forward, arms trembling. He thought about how he must look, bent over the bed with his back arched, cheeks blooming red.

He thought about Taehyung seeing him like this, and when Yoongi landed the final slap, hard enough to jostle Jimin forward a couple inches, his shriek shifted into a moan as the stinging settled on his skin. “Tw-twelve.”

“Good,” Yoongi whispered, palms dragging softly over his skin. “Good boy, good, baby, pretty little slut.”

“Yeah,” Jimin agreed with a pleased little hum.

“You thinking about Taehyung, baby?” Yoongi asked. Jimin heard him shuffling around, could tell he was lowering himself to his knees just behind him. “Thinking about how pretty you’d be for him?”

He touched his lips to Jimin’s left cheek, then his right, moving slowly, pressing gently. Jimin shivered when Yoongi’s hands came up to grasp him, one cheek in each hand. He spread them apart and pressed a third kiss right against Jimin’s hole.

“Oh,” Jimin moaned. “Oh, fuck.”

“Mm,” Yoongi hummed, kissing him again. Then, to Jungkook, “babe. Maybe Taehyung would like to see how pretty Jiminie looks?”

Jimin jerked his head back up. Jungkook shifted, meeting Jimin’s eye. “Bet he would. Wanna show him, Jimin?”

Slowly, Jimin nodded.

Jungkook’s eyes were bright. “Good. I know how pretty you can look for the camera.”

Yoongi chose that moment to lick around his entrance, so Jimin’s yes came out breathless.

Jungkook grinned, sitting up straighter, reaching out to thumb over Jimin’s swollen lower lip as he adjusted the phone with his other hand, tilting it vertically and pointing straight at Jimin.

“God, you’re so unfucking real,” Jungkook muttered, brow furrowing as he snapped a few shots, for which Jimin was sure to arch his back for, look at the camera through his lashes.  

“Are you sending it to him?” Jimin asked in a trembling voice as Yoongi dragged his tongue back and forth over his rim, the metal from his piercing cold against Jimin’s heated skin.

“Sent.” Jungkook grinned. He glanced over Jimin’s back to Yoongi then grabbed a bottle of lube from the bed table, unceremoniously rolling it off the edge of the bed for Yoongi to grab with an unimpressed huff. “You’re so needy. You know that?”

“Be nice,” Yoongi mumbled, wiggling in a finger alongside his tongue. “Jimin has a crush on Tae.”

“Is that it?” Jungkook mumbled, tapping out something on his phone. “You have a crush on Taehyung, Jiminie?”

“Wish it was him fingering you open?” Yoongi said against his rim.

“Want him inside you?” Jungkook pressed. There was a wicked glint in his eye. “Taehyung’s pretty good with his fingers, bet you’d fucking love it.”

“Pretty good? You’re such a brat,” Yoongi scoffed, right before fastening his lips over Jimin’s hole and sucking.

“Please,” Jimin choked out, trying to press himself more against Yoongi’s tongue, but Yoongi moved back, squirting lube right onto Jimin’s crack before spreading it down over his hole. He stopped there, pressing two fingers up against Jimin’s entrance and lightly pushing.

“Please what?” Yoongi asked, feathering light kisses up and down Jimin’s stinging cheeks as he pushed his fingers inside.  

“Please Taehyung,” Jungkook needled. “He wants Taehyung, baby. Doesn’t even appreciate what you’re doing for him now.”

“N-no,” Jimin gasped when Yoongi dragged out his fingers. “Yoongi—please.”

Yoongi was smiling, Jimin could hear it in his voice. “You don’t have to pretend. You want Taehyung, huh?” He pressed his fingers back against Jimin’s rim, slowly, slowly pushing past the first ring of muscle. “Want him to fuck you?”

“Want you to fuck me,” Jimin gasped, rocking his hips back and whining when this pushed Yoongi in up to the second knuckle.

“He’ll say anything to get a cock inside him,” Jungkook said. He looked up from his phone, running his fingers through Jimin’s hair. He was grinning. “Jiminie. Taehyung says you look pretty.”

Jimin opened his mouth against the covers in a gasping whine, rutting his hips down against the mattress and then back, fucking himself properly onto Yoongi’s fingers.

“Oh, he likes that,” Yoongi purred. “Don’t you?”

Jimin moaned. Yoongi was fucking into him hard with his fingers, but avoiding his prostate on purpose, and Jungkook was biting down on his lower lip as he typed on his phone, and Jimin thought, with a dizzying rush of pleasure, that he was surely texting Taehyung, and Taehyung had seen him bent over the bed with Yoongi’s face in his ass, and he thought Jimin was pretty—

“Did he—” Jimin’s breath hitched when Yoongi twisted his fingers. “S-say—anything else?”

“Greedy,” Jungkook said, shifting back a little further from Jimin and smirking down at his phone.

Jimin opened his mouth to retort, but when Yoongi’s fingers tickled his prostate, he forgot everything he’d been about to say, moaning high and needy.

“God, you sound so pretty,” Yoongi growled. “I think it’d be nice if we let Taehyung hear you, don’t you?”

Jimin felt his heart leap, pumping hard once. He could almost feel the rush of blood in his body when he looked over his shoulder to meet Yoongi’s eyes as he stood.

“You want that?” Yoongi said softly. He was unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down over his hips, and his cock bounced a couple times against his stomach before Yoongi ducked around to briefly rest on the edge of the bed next to Jimin, close enough for their mouths to brush when Yoongi continued. “You want him to hear you, baby? Want Jungkook to call him, let him hear what it sounds like when I’m fucking you?”

“Yoongi,” Jimin whispered, eyelashes fluttering when Yoongi dragged his pierced tongue along the line of his jaw.  “Yoongi, I wanna come.”

“Who do you wanna come for,” Yoongi said, now tracing his tongue along Jimin’s ear. “Wanna come for Jungkook? Or me?” He chuckled. “Or Taehyung?”

“All of you,” Jimin gasped. “Please, please let me, I wan—” Jimin moaned when Yoongi kissed him, pushing his tongue into Jimin’s mouth and cutting him off midsentence. He kissed back, sloppily, grinding his hips into the mattress and stopping with a whine when Yoongi pulled back and stilled him with one hand.

“Maybe you just want to come and don’t care what the rest of us think, mm?”

Jimin canted his hips off the bed, panting hard. Yoongi followed the motion of his hips, poking his tongue out at the corner of his mouth as he took in the way Jimin was pushing out his ass.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to do something,” Jimin hissed. “How’s Taehyung gonna hear anything if you don’t make me moan?”

There was a hand in his hair at that, yanking his head back hard enough to make him whimper, and Jimin only realized it was Jungkook when he felt Yoongi’s hands settle on his hips, pulling Jimin back until Yoongi’s cock rested between his cheeks. Jimin moaned loudly, and that was when Jungkook put out his other hand, phone clutched between his fingers. There was a call on speaker currently in progress.

“Hey, flower.”

Jimin’s breath punched out of his throat in a wheeze. “Oh, fuck.”

Taehyung sounded amused. “I’m glad you called.”

Jimin bit his lip, feeling blood boil in his cheeks. Oh, fuck.

“What are you suddenly shy?” Jungkook teased, tugging on Jimin’s hair a little.  

Taehyung made a soft sound. Over the phone, his voice sounded almost deeper, huskier, and that alone was causing goosebumps to sprout all over Jimin’s skin. Behind him, he could feel Yoongi slowly rubbing his cock up and down his crack.

“Hi, Taehyung,” Jimin whispered, trying to keep his voice steady.

“You being good, petal?”

Jimin exhaled shakily. “Maybe.”

Taehyung made another soft sound, an amused sort of hum. “They probably don’t deserve you at your best anyway. S’okay.”

“Okay, Tae,” Yoongi muttered behind Jimin. Jimin wanted to giggle, but Yoongi chose that moment to drag his cockhead right over his hole, and he whined instead.

There was shuffling noise over the phone, like Taehyung was adjusting himself wherever he was sitting—or laying—Jimin wondered with a jolt whether he was maybe sitting in the same chair Jimin had blown him in, back at the studio.

“You look really pretty,” Taehyung murmured. “And your ass is all red.” His voice was actually lower now, a deep sort of rumble that made Jimin want to whine again. He bit it back, spreading his legs a little more. “What’d you do to make Yoongi mad, hm?”

“I, mm,” Jimin said, gasping when Yoongi teased the head of his cock inside only to pull back out. “Fuck, I—I made Jungkook come. In the car. Made him come too fast.”

Taehyung kind of—purred. “With your mouth?”

“Yeah,” Jimin breathed, sighing when Jungkook let go of his hair, dragging his fingers down across Jimin’s jaw and lingering for a beat before he settled back against the bed, using that hand to hold himself up.

“What a good boy,” Taehyung said.

Yoongi chose that moment to push himself almost completely inside Jimin, who shouted, falling forward on his elbows and moaning when Yoongi snapped his hips forward the rest of the way. His skin smacked against Jimin’s ass, still sensitive from the slaps, and Jimin didn’t quite realize the high-pitched keening was coming from him until he grasped what Taehyung was saying.

“Just listen to you, you sound so beautiful. Fuck, god. What’s Yoongi doing, can you tell me?”

“Tell him, baby,” Yoongi said, thrusting into him again. The sound Jimin made was almost a sob. His cock was rubbing against the mattress, his ass stung in the most delicious way every time Yoongi snapped his hips forward, and he felt so fucking satisfied, like he was less than a minute from coming, and Yoongi had barely started. Then again, he’d been so hard, for so long, and he was ready to come,

“He’s—” Jimin scrambled for words, for air. “Fuh—fucking me—god, god—”

“Yeah, flower?” Taehyung said. “You opening up real nice for him? Yoongi’s got such a nice cock, doesn’t he?”

Jungkook made a sound, like he was sucking his tongue between his teeth, and behind Jimin, as he fucked into him again, Yoongi laughed.

Taehyung laughed, too, and he sounded so sweet, such a contrast to the sultry baritone of his voice, the filthy shit he was saying. Jimin had to muffle his moans into his forearm, just so he would be able to hear Taehyung speak. Yoongi was fucking him hard, hard enough that Jimin was being pushed up onto the mattress, closer to Jungkook’s leg, where his phone rested.

“Bet you’re so tight for him,” Taehyung said. “Wish I could see.”

“Y-yeah, I want—want you to—” Jimin’s jerked when Yoongi hit his prostate, letting out a loud shout, his feet briefly leaving the ground to hitch around Yoongi’s legs. “Ohfuckohfuck.”

“What a good boy,” Taehyung cooed. “Sound so pretty for them. And me, hm?”

“Taehyung,” Jimin whined.

Yoongi fucked into him so roughly that Jimin’s feet actually left the ground, most of his body rucking up onto the bed. He was able to press his head into Jungkook’s thigh, the one without the phone, and Jungkook’s hand settled on the back of his neck.

“Please,” Jimin gasped, trying to fuck himself back onto Yoongi, trying to get him deeper. “Pl-ease—”

“Always so sweet,” Jungkook teased.

Yoongi hushed Jimin’s whines, digging his nails into his hips and fucking into Jimin so fast, so hard that he couldn’t do much else except moan, broken, high-pitched ah-ah-ahs that he was now muffling into Jungkook’s leg. Jimin’s toes curled, and his stomach clenched, and his cock, which hadn’t fully calmed down since he’d blown Taehyung in the studio, was rubbing against the sheets, back and forth, and Taehyung was murmuring in his deep voice over the phone, and it was so much.

“I’m—” Jimin sobbed, clutching onto Jungkook’s leg, kicking and pressing one foot against Yoongi’s thigh, trying to get him to closer. “Tae, I’m—”

“That’s it, c’mon, flower—come on Yoongi’s cock. Let me hear you.”

Jungkook gripped Jimin by hair again, tugging his head up just enough so that he couldn’t muffle his staccato screams into his thigh as Yoongi fucked Jimin through his orgasm. He could feel his cum smearing on his stomach as Yoongi let out a low growl, smacking his ass hard once and making Jimin moan louder, one startled shout pitching higher than the others.

“Fuckme fuckgod yes—”

“So good Jimin, fuck,” Taehyung said over the phone. “You sound perfect.”

“T-Tae—” Jimin choked out, whining when Yoongi squeezed his hips, fucked into him even faster.

“Can you be a really good boy? Stay just like you are, let Yoongi fuck you till he comes?”

“Y-yeah,” Jimin moaned. There was drool coming out the side of his mouth, and his voice was hoarse and high. “Tae—oh god—”

“He’s so close, has to be, fucking such a pretty thing like you—”

“C’mon, baby,” Jungkook whispered to Yoongi, who was panting, scraping red lines into Jimin’s hips. “Fuck him sloppy, fuck’im full of your cum—”

“Wanna kiss you, Jimin,” Taehyung husked over phone. “Being so good, a good little fuckdoll.”

Jimin gasped, tightening up in surprise, arousal, and Yoongi came with a low groan, bearing Jimin down into the bed as he rode it out, hard, short thrusts of his hips, slowly giving way to weaker hip rolls, and then he was still. They laid there for a hot moment, and before Jimin could even think to whine, Yoongi was landing a wet kiss on the back of his neck and rolling off him.

He grumbled a little at the empty feeling, nuzzling into Jungkook’s hand before pulling the phone off his other thigh closer to his face.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed into the phone. Jungkook laughed over him.

Taehyung hummed. “Hi, flower. You good?”

“Really good,” Jimin said, hearing the shower come on. He sighed. “I’m taking your number from Jungkookie’s phone.”

“I’m glad,” Taehyung said. “Really glad. Send me a cute picture so I can set your contact photo.”

“You can take one off my Instagram,” Jimin mumbled.

“Want one just for me,” Taehyung purred. “If you don’t mind.”

Jimin smiled, lips pressing against the glass screen. “I can manage,” he said, then groaned, nuzzling a little further into Jungkook’s thigh. “So, ah…when is your concert again?”

Taehyung laughed.

-

Taehyung’s concert, AKA him filling in for a band’s bassist, was about a week away. More than enough time to prepare, as he’d told Jimin over text.

taehyung [22:17]

I warm up to things fast

jimin [22:20]

Haha I could tell

taehyung [22:22]

;)

The week went by quickly, with class and fairly constant texts between Jimin and Taehyung who was just as easy to talk to over the phone as he’d been in the studio, easier still to flirt with. Yoongi and Jungkook seemed genuinely pleased that they got along so well, Jungkook a little smug and Yoongi a lot fond. It was sweet, and Jimin was glad they all seemed to have a mutual understanding and general comfortability with each other.

Taehyung had invited Yoongi and Jungkook to the concert too. Jimin was looking forward to the night. When it did arrive, he took his time getting ready, walking out of his apartment in a tight (and see-through in the right lighting) long sleeved shirt, tighter jeans, and just enough black shadow dusted across his eyelids to make his eyes pop.

Yoongi and Jungkook were waiting in the car, and when Jungkook hopped out to let him in on the passenger side, he pulled Jimin in for a long, lingering kiss first, before letting him duck into the backseat.

Yoongi didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The way he looked at Jimin in the rearview mirror was enough confirmation that he looked fucking good.

When they arrived at the venue, Yoongi led them around a side entrance, talking briefly with the worker standing by the door and showing his pass before they were all let in.  Taehyung had given them all VIP seats, which really just equated to a slightly elevated area behind a wooden railing, all the way to the left of the interior of the building.

It was just the three of them, which Jimin thought was promising.

With the angle their section was at, they were nearly level with the stage. It would be easy for the band performing to see them, not so much for the forming crowd on the ground level.   

Also promising, Jimin thought.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Yoongi said to Jimin, handing Jungkook a beer.

Jimin nodded, ducking his head down when his phone vibrated.

taehyung [21:20]

Are you here?

jimin [21:21]

Mhm

taehyung [21:25]

Come backstage?

Jimin looked up, squinting towards the stage. There were techs running back and forth, and a security guard by the base of the stage.

taehyung [21:26]

There’s a door all the way on left. I’ll come let you in  <3

Jimin stood, smoothing down his shirt across the front and shooting Jungkook and Yoongi a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and Yoongi’s eyes flicked between Jimin and the stage. He smirked. “Okay.”

Jimin stuck out his tongue at them before slipping out of their section and down a level.  He only had to zigzag between a few rows of people before he made it to the left hand most side of the stage. There was a door, but there was no handle and when Jimin pushed, it was locked.

jimin [21:29]

I’m here

He had to stand there for only about 30 more seconds before the door swung inwards and Taehyung was grinning out at him.

“Hey, flower. Wow, look at you.”

Jimin stared at him for a hot second before putting his hands on Taehyung’s chest. His fingers curled playfully into the soft fabric as he pushed Taehyung backwards a little, stepping through the door and nudging it shut behind him.

“Look at you,” Jimin said back.

Taehyung was wearing a black button-down, with the top buttons unfastened and drawing Jimin’s attention immediately to the delicate ink pattern all across Taehyung’s neck, and some more he hadn’t noticed before peeking around his collarbones. The sleeves were rolled up a quarter of the way. The hem was too short to tuck into his dark jeans, but too long to leave more than a sliver of skin exposed.

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Jimin giggled.

“I look good,” Taehyung countered with a smug look, tucking Jimin’s hand in his as he led him down the dimly lit hall. “You’re one to talk, yeah?”

Jimin walked behind Taehyung a little, enjoying the clear view of Taehyung’s hair curling near his ears, the nape of his neck. “Don’t be mean.”

“You started it,” Taehyung said, but he was still grinning.

They slowed to a stop outside a door, nondescript save for the chipped metal plaque next to the frame that read Room 4.

“Your own dressing room?” Jimin said with an overdramatic gasp as they stepped inside. There was a long couch pushed against the wall, a frameless square mirror hanging off the wall on the opposite side, a table across from the couch, with Taehyung’s bass bag resting on top of it, and a shit ton of amps stacked closer to where they stood, by the door.

It wasn’t much, but Jungkook’s band usually still had to share prep rooms.

“Band’s doing good,” Taehyung said, walking over to lean up against the table, glancing down into the open bag before smiling back up at Jimin, who was walking towards him slowly, but surely. “Means bigger venues. More space for…”

“…activities?” Jimin teased.

Taehyung covered his mouth with the back of his hand, the one with the webbed lines of the butterfly wings criss-crossing along the back, and laughed, from way deep in his chest. Jimin was a bit mesmerized with the lovely curve of his lips, the way the silver hoop along the bottom dug into the pink.

“Hey,” Jimin said, and his voice came out lower, sultrier, and he could see the glint in Taehyung’s eyes as Jimin closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s neck. “Aren’t you going to ask if I have it in?”

Taehyung hands settled high on Jimin’s waist, fingers curling around to his back. He was so large, Jimin couldn’t help but press closer, curl a little into the broad warmth. Jimin made to brush his mouth over the pretty silver hoop and Taehyung squeezed him, lightly, but enough to keep him at bay.

“I know you do,” Taehyung said, leaning close, but not close enough.

Jimin blushed, peeking up at him from under his lashes. “Why’s that?”

Taehyung smiled, sliding his hands a little further around Jimin’s waist, finally dipping down to kiss him properly. “Cause you’re a good boy, aren’t you petal?”

Jimin flicked his tongue right over the lip ring, before sliding down Taehyung’s long legs, inwardly preening when Taehyung shifted his feet apart enough for Jimin to settle on his knees between them.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, splaying his fingers over the tops of his thighs and smiling up at Taehyung just as the music from the opening band began to bleed through the walls.

Jimin barely heard it. He was more focused on the way Taehyung was looking down at him, the tickle of his his fingers gently caressing the side of Jimin’s face, the thickness of the plug in his asshole, slick with lube and keeping him stretched.

Jimin was buzzing with the thought of keeping it in for the duration of the concert. He wondered if Taehyung could take it out now, fuck him, and then plug him back up just to keep everything inside. Jimin was sort of dying for Taehyung to fuck him, and if it had to be backstage thirty minutes before he was set to go out and play, Jimin wasn’t going to say no. But—

“Flower?” Taehyung said, and Jimin blinked up at him, wetting his lower lip.

“Mm?”

Taehyung’s fingers dragged to the front of his face, pressing down on his lower lip. Jimin was quick to open his mouth, making to suck the fingers inside but Taehyung caught his chin in them instead, gently thumbing over Jimin’s lip.

“Still want something in your mouth?”  

Jimin wrapped his lips around Taehyung’s thumb and spoke around it. “Yeah.”

Taehyung stroked over the top of Jimin’s tongue, using his other hand to unbutton his pants. “M’kay. Are you comfy? Hang on—” he pulled his hand away from Jimin, ignoring his grumble of protest and grabbing a cushion from the couch.

“I don’t mind the bruises, you know.”

Taehyung grinned, helping Jimin onto the cushion before settling back against the table. “Mm, noted. But, maybe later.”

Jimin licked his lips, watching quietly as Taehyung finished unzipping his fly, slowly, almost casually, pushing his pants down over his hips. His cock, even soft, was a lot, and Jimin just wanted it in his mouth, wanted to feel Taehyung in his throat.

“You’re gonna do what I say,” Taehyung said, caressing the side of Jimin’s face again. “Aren’t you?”

Jimin wrapped his fingers around the back of Taehyung’s knees. “Can I touch?”

“No, petal,” Taehyung said. He tapped on Jimin’s lower lip again. “Open.”

Jimin opened his mouth readily, the tip of his tongue pushing against his lower lip. Taehyung curled his hand gently around the back of Jimin’s head and pulled him close.

“Put me in your mouth. But don’t move.”

Jimin paused when his lips touched Taehyung’s cock, and Taehyung didn’t push him further, looking down at Jimin expectantly.

“Are you gonna fuck my mouth?”

Taehyung smiled. “I’m gonna tune my bass.”

Jimin felt his jaw go slightly slack, heat flaring low in his body. Oh.

Oh—

“No moving?” Jimin breathed. He poked his tongue out, just to taste. Taehyung scraped his nails along the back of Jimin’s head in playful warning.

“No, sweetheart. I don’t want to come. I don’t want you to try and get me hard, either. We’ve only got fifteen minutes, maybe twenty.”

Jimin cocked an eyebrow, pursed his lips around the tip, then pulled off a little. “I can make you come in that time.”

“S’not the point,” Taehyung hummed, pulling his bass out of the bag and resting the end against the desk, pulling the headstock closer to his chest.

“Then what is?”

Taehyung twisted one of the tuning keys, eyes flicking down to Jimin. “It feels nice.”

“But you won’t come.”

“Do you not want to do it?” Taehyung said, not unkindly, holding the bass close to him so he could reach down and run his fingers through Jimin’s bangs.

“No,” Jimin breathed. “No, I want to, god.”

“Okay,” Taehyung whispered. He kept the bass close, guiding his cock back to Jimin’s mouth. “Okay, flower. Open up. Nice and pretty.”

Jimin opened his mouth, wide enough for Taehyung to push the tip of his cock inside. Jimin sucked a little, bobbing his head to take him deeper, and then, breathing out harshly through his nose, Jimin looked up at Taehyung and held still.

“Oh, honey,” Taehyung cooed. He brought his hand back to the bass, adjusting it against his stomach as he went back to tuning. “That’s perfect. Perfect.”

Jimin flattened his tongue against the bottom of his cock, squirming on the cushion and feeling the plug pressing against his walls as he tensed up, resisting the urge to bob his head and continue using his tongue.

He could feel Taehyung’s cock twitch slightly inside his mouth, and when it happened again, he whined.

There was a soft twang, as Taehyung tested one of the notes. He hummed, and Jimin breathed out again through his nose. He could feel drool gathering quickly under his tongue, swelling near the seam of his lips pursed around Taehyung’s cock. He wanted so desperately to suck, bob his head, make Taehyung groan like he had in the studio.

But he wanted to be good.

So Jimin sat there with Taehyung’s cock in his mouth, and he didn’t move.

Drool began to leak out from his mouth, down his chin, but Jimin stayed as he was, suckling occasionally when he couldn’t help himself. What was driving him mad, prompting him tighten his lips or flick his tongue, was how put together Taehyung looked. From the waist up, he was perfectly at ease, and if it weren’t for the glances he cast down at Jimin every so often, it was almost like—like Jimin wasn’t even there. Like he didn’t currently have Taehyung’s cock in his mouth, sitting heavy on his tongue.

Jimin whined again.

“You’re doing good, honey,” Taehyung praised.

Jimin relaxed a little at the praise. He knew he was good. Of course he was desperate, to choke a bit on Taehyung’s cock, bend over the table Taehyung was leaning on and let Taehyung fuck him until he couldn’t remember his own name, but god fuck damn, Jimin wanted to be good for him.

It’s not like it was impossible, not to move. The pillow Taehyung had set down was easy on his knees, although Jimin truly didn’t mind bruising, least not with the right application. But they could talk about that later, like he’d said.

Taehyung tasted nice, smelled nice even, a heady musk underlying what Jimin guessed was the remnants of some winter-themed body soap. He wanted to press closer, shove his nose against the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock, but Jimin was good, and he stayed still, as still as he could. He couldn’t help the occasional press of his tongue, the small little whimpers that pushed out of his throat.

It had been maybe ten minutes, and Jimin’s jaw ached, and saliva had made its way down his neck, and Jimin was fully hard. The plug was so thick, and Jimin was good, he was, but he just wanted to—to—

Jimin reached down to rub his hand over his crotch, but a thunk from above made him pause.

Taehyung had shifted the bass to the side, holding it bottom up on the table by its neck, freeing up his hand to reach down and tap Jimin’s damp jaw, a gentle admonishment. “No.”

Jimin squeezed his hand into a fist and gave Taehyung’s cock a little suck.

Taehyung bit his lip, tugging on his piercing as he pet his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “You’re so pretty. Just looking at you, I—” he broke off with a small laugh. His hips moved a little, and Jimin’s heart leapt.

He was getting hard. Jimin could feel the twitch on his tongue, the way Taehyung’s cock stiffened in his mouth, and he just wanted to be filled.

“Stop moving your tongue,” Taehyung breathed. He was gripping the neck of his bass tightly, if the whites of his knuckles were anything to go by, but his fingers in Jimin’s hair were still gentle.

Jimin hummed, a wet, muffled sound that had Taehyung’s eyes gleaming. He dragged the back of his knuckles back across Jimin’s jaw, spreading the trail of spit almost all the way back to Jimin’s ear.

“You’re so good, on your knees for me,” Taehyung purred. “Keeping my cock warm while I get ready to go onstage. Shh, petal. Stay just like this. Just a little longer.”

Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered, his next moan softer, muffling around the hot weight of Taehyung’s cock.

Taehyung, steadily, carefully, pulled his bass back in front of him, started to play a portion of the band’s songs.

And Jimin. Jimin just tightened his fingers around the backs of Taehyung’s knees, looking up at him with a flushed face and red mouth puckered around the base of his cock, still slightly hard.

It was becoming more and more difficult to stop himself from moving, from reaching back and pressing his hand against himself just for something to rub on. The plug was so, so present, slick and round and hard inside him.

Jimin couldn’t help it. He moaned again.

The music cut off and Taehyung patted Jimin’s cheek with the back of his hand, cooing. “Hush, sweetheart. Sh, sh. Just a little more, if you can? Can you do that for me?”

Jimin could, and he tried to communicate it with the way he slid his hands up the back of Taehyung’s thighs, the soft purse of his lips.

Taehyung was not completely erect, but he was well past being soft, and Jimin felt an incredible sense of satisfaction that he’d caused it just by sitting there, with an open mouth.

“Hm,” Taehyung said thoughtfully, but down at his bass, not at Jimin. Jimin huffed through his nose, cock throbbing in his jeans.

There was something about Taehyung standing so casually against the table, playing a collection of riffs without a hitch while Jimin knelt at his feet with Taehyung’s cock in his mouth.

Something about it that made Jimin feel so—

Good. Too good. Something tightened and expanded in Jimin’s stomach, and everything was suddenly heightened. The ache in his jaw, the rub of the cushion on his knees, the saliva all over his chin, and Taehyung, so fucking all encompassing. The urge to move now was intense, pushing him past desperate and straight to full on wanton.

Jimin failed to swallow another moan, squeezing Taehyung’s legs and huffing again as his tongue pressed against the underside of his dick. He moaned again, and again, the sound muffled, wet, crude. Jimin dimly registered Taehyung putting aside the bass, freeing his hands to gently cup his face and slowly guide Jimin off his cock.

He gasped when the tip slid out of his mouth, the lower half of his face a mess of spit, his lips tender and red. Taehyung’s cock was right before him, damp and flushed, and definitely not as soft as it had been when they’d started.

“You got me hard,” Taehyung whispered. He lowered himself to sit on the cushion, gently rubbing his thumb over Jimin’s lower lip and coaxing him to relax until he was sitting next to him. Taehyung draped Jimin’s legs over his and cradled him to his chest.

“Oops,” Jimin said, tilting his head up to kiss Taehyung’s tattooed neck and humming when Taehyung offered his shirt collar for Jimin to wipe his face with. “Where’s the instrument cloth?” Jimin teased.

“My knees feel a bit weak,” Taehyung said with a grin, laughing when Jimin stopped him from standing to retrieve it from his bag.

“I could’ve kept going,” Jimin said. “I can.”

“No. Then I wouldn’t have time to do this,” Taehyung said, squeezing Jimin to his chest.

Jimin’s laugh muffled into Taehyung’s shirt. “A cuddler, huh.”

“What, don’t I look like one?”

 Jimin rubbed a damp part of his jaw across Taehyung’s shirt sleeve. “The tattoos and the lip ring kind of make you seem formidable.”

“Now who’s stereotyping?” Taehyung said, poking him lightly.

Jimin laughed, hugging Taehyung to him tighter. “Just teasing. You look and are very cuddly.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung said, running a light finger over Jimin’s mouth. “I am the biggest cuddler.”  

“Me too,” Jimin hummed, hugging Taehyung to him tighter. He licked his lips. “Mm, fuck. Are you sure you don’t want me to make you come?”

Taehyung laughed softly against the top of Jimin’s head. “Later.” He blew playfully across Jimin’s hair, reaching up to run his fingers through it, putting some pieces back in place. “I like this,” he continued, playing with a silvery strand.

“You shoulda seen the pink.”

“I saw the photos.”

Jimin shifted, peeking up at Taehyung with a grin. “Did you finally stalk my social media?”

Taehyung was smiling. “Just a little.” He slid his hand down Jimin’s side, pressing firmly against his upper thigh before shifting it towards his ass, fingers kneading the skin. “How do you feel, flower?”

Jimin pressed closer, feeling the plug shift inside him. “Like I want more.”

Taehyung laughed, flopping onto his back and pulling Jimin more fully on top of him. “Greedy.”

“No,” Jimin breathed, slotting his legs on either side of Taehyung’s hips, pouting when Taehyung gripped him by the waist and stopped him from grinding against his body.

“Yes,” Taehyung said, eyes gleaming. “Just had my cock in your mouth, wasn’t it enough?”

Jimin squirmed in his hold, feeling hot all over again. “Wanna come. Wanna make you—”

“After,” Taehyung said, his voice a rumble. “After the concert. You can make me come. And you—”

There was a sharp rap on the door, followed by someone’s voice. “Taehyung! Five minutes.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung called back. He sat up, using the table to pull himself into a standing position, offering his hand to help Jimin stand too.

With Jimin’s face cupped between his hands, Taehyung leaned forward to kiss him.

“You,” Taehyung murmured. “You can come when I say so.”

Jimin’s eyes fluttered open. “I—”

“You’re gonna behave, aren’t you?” Taehyung said. One of his hands was fully pressing against Jimin’s ass now, pushing against the plug. Jimin felt flushed. “Gonna be good?”

Jimin nodded coyly. “Mhm.”

Taehyung hummed. “Good. Let’s get you back to Yoongi and Jungkook.”

-

Taehyung walked Jimin back to the side door he’d entered through, bidding him goodbye with one last open-mouthed kiss and a parting grin.

Jimin felt electric as he weaved through the crowd to get back to their VIP area. Every step had the plug rubbing against his insides, and there was a delicious phantom ache in his jaw from holding it open for nearly twenty minutes.

Jimin could feel a dampness on his skin, around his neck, saliva he hadn’t managed to gather. As he stepped up into the VIP level, he didn’t bother trying to wipe it all away.

Yoongi and Jungkook didn’t notice him right away. They were both standing up against the railing, Jungkook fully facing forward and leaning against the wooden bar with both hands curled around the edges. The stage was empty now, save for techs getting ready for the main act, and Jungkook was talking animatedly, occasionally using his hands to gesture.  Yoongi was standing beside him, his body angled so he was actually facing Jungkook, propped up against the railing with his hip. He had one arm draped loosely around Jungkook’s waist, head tilted as he listened.

Yoongi spotted Jimin first as he ducked under the short rope. He raised an eyebrow as Jimin approached Jungkook’s other side and folded his arms over the railing there.

They were both looking at him now, Jungkook’s eyes dipping over the curve of Jimin’s body, Yoongi’s focused intensely on his face. Jimin offered them both a sweet smile.

Jungkook leaned his way. “Have fun?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Yoongi smirked. “Were you good, Jiminie?”

 “I’m always good.”

Jungkook lifted his hand from the railing, then, pushing it up the back of Jimin’s shirt to settle on the small of his back. “At first, sure.”

Jimin shivered at the touch of skin on skin, briefly squeezing his thighs together in a sad attempt to keep his dick in check. “Always,” he insisted with a scowl.

“Sure, baby,” Yoongi hummed. He’d come around and was standing on Jimin’s other side now, making it easy for him to nuzzle into Jimin’s hair. “Tell me. Are you wearing it?”

Jimin froze. He hadn’t told Yoongi or Jungkook he had a plug in, had worked himself open in the privacy of his own bathroom just before they picked him up. Not because he didn’t want them to know, more like, he knew what would happen if they did.

He wasn’t opposed to the thought of one or both of them fucking him against the railing, but he’d come to actually watch Taehyung.

Also, the secrecy itself was sort of hot.

Jimin tried not to pout. “Did Taehyung tell you?”

Yoongi seemed amused. “No. But I know Tae. And I know you.”

Jimin turned to him. “Do you?”

Yoongi’s hand slid across his backside. Jimin’s breath hitched when his palm pressed right against the center, right where the plug was. “Mhm. Bet he told you you aren’t allowed to come, didn’t he?”

Jimin’s cock throbbed heavy between his legs. Fuck.

“Jimin,” Jungkook said.

Jimin turned, and Jungkook, the fucking brat, kissed him. He used his hand on Jimin’s back to turn his body so it was pressed up against Jungkook’s, and he kissed him dirty, teeth nipping at Jimin’s sensitive lips, tongue fucking into his mouth, other hand grabbing Jimin’s thigh and hooking it around Jungkook’s waist.

Jimin broke apart from him with a gasp just as the overhead lights dimmed, signaling the entrance of the band. 

“It’s a lucky thing you’re such a good boy,” Jungkook mocked, turning Jimin around so he was facing the stage, sandwiched between Jungkook and the railing. When Jungkook pushed him forward, using his hips more than his hands, Jimin felt the plug press a little deeper inside him.

He bit back a moan.

“The show’s starting,” Yoongi said into his ear just as the crowd burst into cheers as the drummer came on stage.

Jimin huffed, shoving himself up so he was fully standing. Jungkook laughed into his neck before he propped his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. He didn’t do anything but wrap his arms around Jimin’s waist.

At first.

When Taehyung came out, and Jimin lifted his hands to cheer and clap, Jungkook tightened his grip before sliding his hands a little lower, fingers tickling over the area right above his dick.

“You’re such a brat,” Jimin said through his smile, blowing Taehyung a kiss when he looked their way from the stage.

Taehyung grinned at him, raising his eyebrows as his gaze shifted from Jimin to Yoongi and Jungkook. It slid back to Jimin as the guitarist stepped out, and held there.

“Baby,” Yoongi said against Jimin’s cheek, and then two fingers were pressing against the tender swell of his lower lip, and, without thinking, Jimin parted his lips and let Yoongi slip his fingers inside.

It was almost an automatic reaction. Jimin immediately registered what he’d just done, what he was doing, with Taehyung’s eyes dark on his, and he paused. For just a moment.

Then, locking his eyes with Taehyung, cheeks burning, Jimin sucked hard on Yoongi’s fingers, tightening his lips around them as he slowly pulled off,

Jungkook nuzzled his neck. “Just need something in your mouth.”

Taehyung, still with his eyebrows raised, and now with a dangerous quirk to his lips, turned away from them as the main singer leapt out to a roar of cheers.

“Yoongi,” Jimin whined. “Really?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Yoongi said, before tilting Jimin’s face towards his own so they could kiss too.

It was firm, not a lot of teeth, but a whole lot of pressure, and Jimin always melted when Yoongi kissed him, lips moving with a purpose across Jimin’s, tongue firm as he dragged his piercing along Jimin’s mouth.

Jimin bit Yoongi’s lip and pulled back, scowling at him. “I wanna be good.”

Yoongi grinned. “Then be good.”

Jimin made a show of turning his head away from Yoongi and bending at the waist, firmly enough that Jungkook conceded a few steps as Jimin’s backside pushed against his crotch. Jimin took care to keep his back flat, arched, breathing hard through his nose as the plug was pushed on and Jungkook’s grip around him tightened.

But he didn’t move. The music was starting, Taehyung was watching, and Jimin was good.

When he glanced behind him, he caught Jungkook and Yoongi in the middle of exchanging a glance before they both turned to look down at him.

“I am,” Jimin said, speaking slowly so even if they couldn’t quite hear him, with the instruments’ base kicking in from all around, they could see his lips form the words.

Jungkook shifted his hold so he had a proper grip on Jimin’s hips while Yoongi slid one hand firmly onto Jimin’s lower back, both crowding closer. When Yoongi spoke, his lips were right by Jimin’s ear.

“Good for who?” Yoongi said. There was a drawl in his voice, one that in any other situation would have had Jimin turning to pull him in for a quick, dirty kiss, but Jimin steeled himself, planting his elbows firmly on the railing. He kept his eyes locked on Taehyung, who shot him a knowing, almost amused smile from the stage as his fingers moved over his strings.

Yoongi fingers tickled underneath the hem of Jimin’s shirt to touch his bare skin. Jimin swallowed a shiver, kept his expression clear, even when Jungkook blew on the back of his neck teasingly.

Still. Jimin wasn’t a total amateur. He could handle their teasing, especially with Taehyung up on stage looking like a bonafide rock star. Yoongi and Jungkook might be too bigheaded to admit it, but he had a feeling they were a bit preoccupied with Taehyung as well.

It was understandable. He looked fucking good. He sounded fucking good. Maybe Jimin was unfairly attuned to him, but the deep notes of the bass seemed to come across louder, stronger than even the singer’s vocals, the snare of the drum, the growl of the guitar.

Taehyung himself was an absolute miracle on stage. He may not be part of the band, but he looked like he belonged on that stage. The bass rested comfortably across the front of his body, legs long as ever, with his knees just barely visible through the small slits in the denim. His fingers, stupidly pretty, drew Jimin’s attention, moving quick and confident over the strings.

And of course, there were his facial expressions.

Some kind of demon must be possessing Taehyung, because there was no way anything human could be so devastating from just a simple curl of the lips, a quirk of a brow, a basic fucking wink that was anything but.

Taehyung clearly thrived off the room’s energy, the music, the crowd, the lights, beaming so widely sometimes that Jimin found himself smiling too, tapping his foot firmly against the floor without thinking about it because Taehyung was infectious. He played and moved like the instrument was just an extension of himself, and Jimin was torn between staring at the movements of his fingers, quick and perfect, never missing a note, and the wide, pretty smile on his face, the way he’d stick out his tongue just slightly, pinching it between his teeth, still grinning.

Taehyung was also playful with the other band members. He toed the edges of the stage, had the people near him losing their minds when he tossed his hair off his forehead with a fling of the head. There were a lot of shouts, a lot of outstretched hands. Jimin could relate. He’d be doing the exact same thing, were he down there.

But he wasn’t. Jimin was in VIP seats, with passes Taehyung had provided, with Yoongi standing close, Jungkook pressing closer, and the plug Taehyung had asked him to wear shifting heavily against his insides with even the smallest of movements. As much as he loved being crowded in the front row, considering his situation, he preferred to stand as he was, leaned over the railing, tapping out the beat with his boot and Yoongi tapping out the same beat on the small of his back with his fingers.

Taehyung, with all the action on stage, still took care to look Jimin’s way at least twice during a song, grinning and winking and even pursing his lips in a quick air kiss at one point. He was fucking lovely and Jimin enjoyed the specific attention as much as Taehyung seemed to enjoy being on stage.

Jimin returned the gestures with his own, sweet and exaggerated enough to cause Taehyung’s eyes to linger, make Yoongi snort next to him and Jungkook’s hands shuffle on his waist.

The shift came about twelve songs into the set.

It had been relatively easy, up till then. Jungkook and Yoongi let Jimin alone for the most part, save for the fact that Yoongi’s fingers were touching the bare skin of Jimin’s lower back and Jungkook’s crotch was rubbing against Jimin’s plugged up asshole, which Jimin felt (pretty fuckin acutely) every time he shifted a little too much. There was a dull pulsing in his groin, cock still half-hard from backstage, from the plug.

Then on Jimin’s next inhale, he smelled the vague sweet, tingling metal of cannabis oil from Jungkook’s vape pen, then smoke next second, both fading in few moments.

Jimin huffed, adjusting his arms on the railing and focusing back on the stage, on Taehyung. He bit his lip when Taehyung looked his way, hair sweaty and dark at his temples, on the back of his neck. His shoulders lifted in a deep breath as the song finished out, and he raised an eyebrow in their direction, grin shifting to a smirk that had Jimin flushing.

He heard the tell-tale, wet click of two people kissing, and Jimin turned to look over his shoulder to see Yoongi and Jungkook making out like there weren’t five thousand other people in the room.

Someone, probably Jungkook, had taken a big pull, except they were kissing so sloppily half the smoke was drifting up into the air. They were annoying, always getting off on wasting a good fucking hit. But the sight itself was pretty worth it. Jimin thought he could forgive them.

Then Jungkook squeezed Jimin hard and tugged him back against him, grinding against his ass.

“Hey,” Jimin whispered, whirling around with flaming cheeks and swallowing his own moan, his own urge to rut back against Jungkook’s dick.

Yoongi’s hand flattened on Jimin’s back, warm and big against his flushed skin and Jungkook rolled his hips a little, leaning harder into the kiss.

Jimin felt a flush course through his body, from his cheeks down to his toes, biting down on his lip and biting harder when he saw Taehyung was watching him from the stage, fingers plucking the bassline and a knowing gleam in his eyes.

Jimin liked to think positive, so, he thought, quite happily, he was totally fucked.

“Yoongi,” Jimin mumbled, then said it louder when the kissing noises didn’t stop, when Jungkook rubbed soothing little circles into his hips with his fingertips as he rolled his hips against Jimin’s again, pushing against the plug. Jimin gasped, then sucked his lip back into his mouth.

He heard them finally separate, felt Yoongi’s hand push a little higher up his back, and then—they stopped. Stopped long enough that Jimin could feel the flush cooling in his cheeks, thought he was getting his breath back—

And then Jungkook crowded a little closer and started pressing open-mouthed kisses to Jimin’s neck.

“Mmmm,” Jimin moaned, without thinking, snapping his mouth shut even though it didn’t make a difference with the sound coming from somewhere in the back of his throat. Jungkook breathed a small laugh against Jimin’s neck before he continued, adding his tongue gradually as he dragged his mouth up and down his skin. Jimin was panting again.

“Doesn’t take much, does it, baby?” Yoongi said into his ear.

“I’ve got a plug in my ass you dick,” Jimin spit, gasping when Jungkook bit him a little.

“You’re so used to having something inside you, what difference does this make?” Jungkook growled.  

“Is it because it’s Taehyung’s?” Yoongi asked, voice low. “’Cause he asked you to?”

“Shut up,” Jimin grit out, even as he ground back against Jungkook, gasping. “Fuck.”

“You’re so hard, from nothing,” Jungkook whispered, palm pressing against the front of Jimin’s pants. “God.” His other hand came up to grip Jimin by the chin, thumb dragging roughly over his swollen lower lip. “God, you little cockslut.”

“Jungkookie,” Jimin whined, suckling around his finger. With the way Jungkook was wrapped around him, every time Jimin moved back the plug was pushed momentarily deeper, and when he moved forward, there was more friction over the top of his cock.

The floor underneath vibrated, and Jimin blinked, refocusing on the stage, where Taehyung was looking out at the crowd, moving easily to the music. A few beats later, he glanced Jimin’s way, eyes dark, seeking.

“Come here, baby,” Yoongi said into his jaw, and Jimin blushed hot as Taehyung watched them before shifting the couple inches he needed, to kiss Yoongi.

Jimin had been wearing pretty thin from the moment he’d had Taehyung’s cock in his mouth, and he whimpered against Yoongi as they kissed, eyes rolling to the back of his head when Jungkook quickly and firmly stroked over his dick.

“Bet you want Yoongi to fuck you,” Jungkook said into the back of Jimin’s neck. “Bet you’d let him slide right in if you weren’t already full.”

“Fuck,” Jimin gasped around Yoongi’s tongue, metal piercing clicking against his teeth. “Mm-nng fuck—”

“I think he wants Taehyung to fuck him instead, baby,” Yoongi said to Jungkook with a crooked grin, tsking when Jimin went to chase after his mouth. “Bet he’d let Tae fuck him in front of all these people too.”

Jungkook pulled at the button of Jimin’s pants, and Jimin pressed more deeply into him, elbows hooking over the railing and head tilting a little to the side so Yoongi could nip at his skin.

Jimin wasn’t supposed to come, Taehyung hadn’t told him when—but, he also hadn’t told him when not too—and those were Jungkook’s fingers, pushing through the hole in his boxers to wrap around his dick, and Yoongi’s voice rasping filth in his ears, telling Jimin what a slut he was, how pretty, how Taehyung was watching him fall apart in between them, how Jimin was going to come so gorgeous for the three of them.

“Mm—I can’t—” Jimin groaned. There was a sea of people down below them, sweat dripping down his neck, and he had a clear enough view of Taehyung to see the drops on his own skin, rolling down his temples, wetting the wide bow of his upper lip. He was looking at Jimin, seeing him fall apart, and Jimin looked right back, didn’t think about looking anywhere else even as Jungkook fisted him faster and Yoongi sucked on a spot just underneath his jaw.

Jungkook twisted his wrist and Jimin whined, biting his lip when Yoongi hushed him.

“You gonna come all over yourself?” he said. “Make a fucking mess, Jiminie?”

“No—yeah, fuck, fuck.” Jimin was starting to babble, always a good sign that he was getting close. On stage, Taehyung’s back was angled towards them as he messed around with the drummer, not swayed by what he knew was happening in the VIP wings. There was a smile bright as ever on his face, a bounce in his step as he played in synch with the drum.

Jimin wondered if he moaned loud enough, Taehyung would hear. Knew it was impossible, but he wanted him to. He wanted to see Taehyung’s eyes darken, feel the roughness of his hands on Jimin later, when he growled into his neck, what about being good?

“Shit,” Jimin breathed, twitching into Jungkook’s grip, feeling sweat collect on his shirt, blinking as the lights on stage flashed bright. Taehyung was still laughing with the other band members, now back to back with the lead singer.

“Watch him,” Yoongi ordered, but it was unnecessary because Jimin hadn’t really taken his eyes off Taehyung all night, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. “I want you to come when he looks over here again.”

Jimin jolted. “Can’t, mm I can’t.”

“Liar,” Jungkook said. He squeezed around Jimin’s dick, tight, and Jimin whimpered, muscles clenching, ten times more sensitive with the plug inside him. “You’re a fucking liar, Jimin. Bet you’d come right now if Yoongi asked.”

“Fuck off,” Jimin hissed as Yoongi sucked a red mark into his neck. The music was blaring, the lights were bright and orange, and Taehyung still wasn’t looking but Jimin was so, so close.

Yoongi chuckled, pressed his thumb against the spot on Jimin’s neck he’d bitten, moving his mouth to lick over earlobe, metal clicking against metal as his tongue moved over Jimin’s piercings.

Jungkook also moved, keeping one hand pumping him hard and quick, but shifting back enough to shove his other hand down the back of Jimin’s pants. He grasped the bare skin of one cheek, hard enough to bruise, spreading him enough that Jimin was knocked breathless with an overwhelming need to get fucked deep, wanted the plug pulled out and shoved back in, wanted something more—

Taehyung looked at him, then.

His expression was wild, but his eyes were intent, hot and focused on Jimin as Jungkook twisted his hand just right, Yoongi murmured an encouragement into his ear, and Jimin, clenching around the plug inside him, came with a cry.

It was drowned out in all the noise, the crowd, the drum, the bassline. Jimin jerked in Jungkook’s hold, nearly shrieking when Yoongi’s fingers cupped under his balls and pressed up.

“That’s it,” he said as Jimin shuddered, dragging his fingers up and pushing into the wet cloth of his boxers, where Jimin’s cum was smearing. “Keep fucking coming, messy fucking slut. Let Taehyung see how good you are.”

Jimin was saying something, a jumble of curses and other wordless noises that didn’t make much sense, choking as he struggled to stop rolling back against Jungkook, clenching and clenching and clenching around the plug as the last of his orgasm spurted out, ruining the inside of his boxers.

“Shit,” Jungkook whispered as he pulled his hand back. Some of the mess smeared on Jimin’s underwear, but the rest Jungkook held up in front of Jimin’s mouth. “Here.”

Jimin sucked down his fingers, licking up the cum, looking through damp eyelashes towards the stage. Although Taehyung wasn’t outright staring in their direction anymore, he was looking over often enough for see Jimin with Jungkook’s fingers in his mouth, Yoongi’s body pressed incredibly close.

There was a smile on his face, but it was sharp. Searing. Like he wanted to show Jimin what it was really like to get ruined.

Jimin’s breath rattled out over Jungkook’s fingers, and he swallowed thickly. Shit. Shit.

Jungkook and Yoongi worked together to zip Jimin back up, which was sort of comical and cute and ridiculous all at once, Yoongi batting Jungkook’s hands away and Jungkook muttering under his breath as he tucked Jimin’s shirt back into his pants. Jimin, feeling drunk off the pleasure, sensitive and twitching around the plug, leaned heavily into Yoongi when they were done, making a small noise when Jungkook crowded closer.

He wasn’t quite sure how many songs had passed, chewed on his lip a little as he tried to bring himself out of the daze. A flush had settled in his cheeks, and likely wouldn’t be going away any time soon with the heat of the air, Taehyung’s gaze, his body.

“Taehyung’s gonna be pissed,” Jungkook grinned into Jimin’s cheek.

“He’s gonna be pissed at you,” Jimin grumbled, shivering when Jungkook rolled his hips a little against his backside. “Stop.” He caught Yoongi eyeing him purposefully, and turned to him, dipping forward so his lips brushed Yoongi’s when he spoke next. “All green.”

Yoongi smiled against his mouth, pulling back. “Taehyung’s looking at you like he wants to eat you, y’know. Even more than Jungkook was, the night we met.”

Jimin’s eyes flicked back towards the stage, and he leaned more heavily over the railing, shoulders heaving in a pleased sigh as he met Taehyung’s eyes, lip quirking to mirror Taehyung’s smirk as he opened up the next song.

“Good,” Jimin said, more to himself than any one else, and when Taehyung raised a daring eyebrow in his direction, Jimin bit his lip as demurely as possible, let the corners of his mouth pull up a little more and stay quirked as he watched.

-

The band ended up doing an encore, unsurprisingly, and when the leader gave Taehyung a shout out, Jimin’s grin actually made his cheeks ache a bit, when he heard how loud the cheers were.

“He’s so good,” Jimin said, leaning heavily against Yoongi and smirking over his shoulder at Jungkook when he heard him scoff. “And you’re so jealous.”

“And you’re a mess,” Jungkook taunted, ducking when Jimin twisted to flick him.

“Quit,” Yoongi said to both of them, rolling his eyes. He offered Jimin a small smile. “Have fun?”

Jimin licked his lips, glancing back out at the stage. Taehyung was waving enthusiastically to the crowd as he walked off stage, laughing when the drummer shoved him playfully. Jimin watched until he walked into the wings, feeling something ease in him when Taehyung turned at the last moment and shot him a wink.

Jimin looked back at Yoongi. “You’re saying that like the fun is over.”

Yoongi’s smile grew. “With you, is it ever?”

In Jimin’s pocket, his phone vibrated. He exchanged a look with Yoongi before pulling it out of his pocket and trying not to grimace at the mess he could feel sticking in his pants.

taehyung [23:28]

What are you doing after this?

jimin [23:28]

Thought I should give you back what’s yours

taehyung [23:29]

Gonna have to be more specific :)

jimin [23:29]

Guess you’ll have to come over to see what I’m talking about

taehyung [23:30]

Are you gonna be good this time? Or are you gonna let Jungkook and Yoongi fuck you before I get there?

jimin [23:30]

You’d like it

taehyung [23:31]

Go home

Take it out nice and slow okay?

jimin [23:31]

Don’t you want to do that?

taehyung [23:31]

I really do

But I don’t want you to hurt yourself

jimin [23:32]

I’m good. It’s only been a couple hours. If you come quick, you can do it for me

taehyung [23:32]:

You’re incredible.

What’s your address?

Jimin licked his lips, glancing between Yoongi and Jungkook. “Can you take me home? Stat?”

Yoongi breathed out a laugh. “Sure.”

-

Jimin pressed a wet, hurried kiss to Jungkook and Yoongi’s cheeks before he scrambled out of the car, climbing over Jungkook’s lap to do so and yelping when Jungkook landed a quick smack to his ass.

“Remember,” Jungkook said when Jimin shot him a reproachful look as he straightened. Jungkook grinned at him, resting his chin on his arms, hooked over the open car window. “Taehyung isn’t as nice as Yoongi.”

Jimin tsked. “You ever think you’re just a shit? Maybe that’s why everyone’s so eager to step on your dick.”

“He likes it,” Yoongi said. Jimin heard his hand come down hard on Jungkook’s thigh, saw Jungkook’s eyes darken, the pink hint in his cheeks.

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Jimin scoffed, waving them off. “Bye.”

“Get inside,” Yoongi said, stubborn as ever. Jimin pursed his lips, but turned, walking carefully to shift the plug as little as possible, because it was really starting to press now, and despite having come not too long ago, he was already wanting to come again.

Jimin stopped at his front door, turning back towards Yoongi’s car as he unlocked it.

“I’m safe,” he called, pushing the front door open. “Goodbye, you two!”

“I hope your roommate isn’t home!” Jungkook shouted back.

Jimin huffed, snapping the door shut behind him and sighing in relief when a quick glance around told him Namjoon was indeed, not home. Probably hanging out with Hoseok, or Seokjin, both of whom he’d met through Jimin. You’re welcome, Namjoon. Jimin pulled out his phone.

jimin [23:52]

If you come home tonight, don’t

namjoon [23:54]

Oh my god

All right

Wasn’t planning on it

Might be there in the morning

jimin [23:55]

No promises then either :)

namjoon [23:55]

Jiminnn oh my god

jimin [23:56]

Love youuu

Jimin had a feeling Taehyung would take a fun pleasure in the mess dried on Jimin’s skin, under his clothes, and on any other night, he might leave it for him to handle. But right now, Jimin was ultra-sensitive and wanting, not to mention he had a very real desire to put on something a little special for Taehyung. A quick shower was a natural step.

He was quick to shuck off his clothes, just as quick to bathe, swallowing a shiver when he rubbed over the back of his ass and briefly spread his own cheeks. He shut off the water not long afterwards, wrapping a towel around his waist and shoving his toothbrush in his mouth as he dried off.  When he was done, Jimin shuffled through the drawer in his night table, quickly finding what he was looking for, setting everything up to make things easier when Taehyung arrived.

Jimin’s phone buzzed on the table just as he was cinching up his black silk robe, followed soon by a knock at the door. Jimin tipped up on his toes, leaning over his bed to read the text as it flashed on his lock screen.

taehyung [00:07]

I’m here, pretty

Jimin glanced at himself in the mirror, running his fingers through the damp strands of his hair once before traipsing to the door. He opened it a smidge, peeking around the edge.

Taehyung had changed shirts, but otherwise looked fresh from the concert, the case for his bass slung over his back. He smiled brightly when he met Jimin’s eyes.

“Hi.”

Jimin opened the door wide enough to let Taehyung in. “Hi.”

Taehyung’s eyes dipped down Jimin’s frame, lingering on the place where the silk hem stopped midthigh. “You clean up nice, petal. And quick. I almost broke my ankle with how fast I tried to clean up my shit to get here.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “You aren’t supposed to tell me that. Ruins your devil-may-care persona.”

“Ah,” Taehyung said, pulling the bass over his head and resting it next to the door frame. “What’s wrong with caring? I think it’s nice.”

Jimin blinked, feeling an inexplicable heat fill his cheeks. Taehyung, in the middle of shrugging off his jacket, caught the blush and smiled at Jimin warmly.

Jimin cleared his throat even though he didn’t need to. “You were really fucking good tonight. You belong up there. On stage.”

“I have fun,” Taehyung admitted, following Jimin as he led them to the kitchen. “I’m usually in a recording booth doing the bass for a band or artist that doesn’t have one, or are in between, so I grab whatever chance I can to get on stage.”

“Does it happen a lot?” Jimin said, reaching for a glass in one of the cupboards.

“Kinda. It’s usually out of town. But I’ll be starting university here next semester, so I’ll have to plan around classes now.

Jimin opened the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of water. “You’re starting uni?”

“Picking back up,” Taehyung said a little sheepishly. “Took a break for music. But yeah, I’m uh, double majoring in business and music production.”

“Well, shit,” Jimin exclaimed, pouring water in the glass and handing it to Taehyung, who took it gratefully. “We might have classes together. I’m studying business.”

Taehyung took a few big swallows before answering. “Business? Really?”

Jimin shrugged, smiling. “For when my social media flops. I need a fallback, don’t I?”

“Hm,” Taehyung said thoughtfully. “I suppose. Although I don’t see you losing momentum any time soon.”

“Maybe that’s because I have business smarts,” Jimin said, tapping his head.

Taehyung laughed, taking another several large gulps of water. “Well, I’m definitely okay with us sharing some classes together. You’re so fucking cute.” He smiled, pushing his empty glass away.

Jimin resisted the urge to needlessly clear his throat again, fiddling with the hems of his robe and peeking up at Taehyung. “Tae?”

Taehyung shifted, surely reading the drop in Jimin’s voice. “Mmh.”

Jimin stepped a little closer. “Are you gonna fuck me tonight?”

Taehyung’s tongue flicked over the silver ring in his lip. He looked at Jimin quietly for a few moments, a thoughtful expression settling over his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “Do you wanna turn around for me, Jimin?”

“Yeah,” Jimin mumbled, turning and planting his hands against the fridge. “Yeah, here.”

Taehyung put a hand on Jimin’s hip, bunching up the material under his palm until Jimin could feel cool air hitting his skin directly, and he resisted the urge to roll his hips when he felt Taehyung grip the edge of the plug.

“Tae,” Jimin whimpered.

“I got you, hm?” Taehyung said into his neck, steadying him with the hand on his hip. “I got you, petal. Tell me if it hurts.”

“It’s—it’s okay,” Jimin gasped as Taehyung twisted it a little. He’d applied more lube around the edges after the shower, so the slide was soft, easy, although Jimin could feel his muscles spasming, adjusting to the empty space as Taehyung slowly pulled it out. “Oh fuck.”

Taehyung slowed down even more. “You know I could see you,” he said. “From the stage. Did Yoongi and Jungkook make you come? I thought you were gonna wait for me.”

“I’m—mm, I t-tried, Taehyung, th-they—”

The fattest part of the plug came out, and Jimin twitched, watched as goosebumps popped up along his arms. “Nn—”

“I know,” Taehyung whispered. “But you liked it. I could tell. What would you have done if you didn’t have this?” he asked, and rotated the plug in a small, slow circle. “Would’ve let them both fuck you?”

Jimin gasped. “I—”

Taehyung placed a hard, open-mouthed kiss to the skin under Jimin’s jaw, right on the mark Yoongi had put there not an hour earlier as he pulled the plug out completely, guiding Jimin to sink back into him as his hole clenched around nothing.

“Mm—fuck—fuck, fuck—” Jimin whispered. “Tae, Taehyung, are you gonna fuck me now?”

Taehyung’s lips were still pressing against Jimin’s neck. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Jimin said, without hesitating. “C’mon—I’ll give you a tour. Starting with the bedroom.”

“You’re cute,” Taehyung giggled into his neck, which Jimin found stupidly endearing. “Okay. Okay, show me, flower.”

Jimin whirled around, grasping Taehyung by the wrist and dragging him down the short hallway and into his room. He grabbed the plug from Taehyung’s other hand and quickly tossed it in the sink of his bathroom, waving his arm in a showy display as Taehyung paused by the foot of his bed and looked around.

“You’re a little messier than I thought,” Taehyung commented, nudging a discarded T-shirt from a couple days prior away with his foot.

Jimin stopped a few spaces from him. He waited until Taehyung was looking before he began to pull at the silk band tying his robe together. Slowly, he shrugged the material off his shoulders and then let it drop to the floor.

“I didn’t think you’d mind too much.”

Taehyung stared at him, eyes dragging down his body and coming to a hard stop on his cock, and the red silicone ring around the base.

Taehyung looked up at Jimin, eyes widening in his surprise before he licked his lips, flicking the silver loop there, and all at once, dropped to his knees.

“What—” Jimin breathed out, half laughing, then clutching Taehyung hard by the hair when he nosed Jimin’s cock, where the blood was already starting to flow more steadily at the attention. “Oh my god.”

“You’re so good,” Taehyung hummed, kissing the skin, dragging his palms up Jimin’s thighs. “Did you put this on for me?”

“Wanted to,” Jimin’s tongue stuck in his mouth, and he swallowed, trying again. “Wanted to be good. Try again. Not come till you say.”

Taehyung grinned up at him, and Jimin exhaled, tracing his fingers over the pretty tattoos covering his neck. “Won’t this make you even more sensitive, petal? You didn’t have to do that.”

“Wanted to,” Jimin said again.

“I guess we can skip the spanks tonight, then,” Taehyung said, lips now dragging over Jimin’s balls. His touch was so soft, and light, but it still seared. “Sound okay? You wanna do that?”

“You can still spank me,” Jimin mumbled, drawing a laugh out of Taehyung.

“Depends on how you behave.” Taehyung pulled back a breath, looking up at Jimin. “Colors?”

“I know,” Jimin said, then added, “green.”

“Okay,” Taehyung said. He paused, blinking up at Jimin again. “Do you want—have—condoms?”

Jimin giggled a little, but he stepped back, ignoring Taehyung’s small lip purse, trying to understand how someone pouting on his knees could look so fucking powerful.

He reached over to his night table to grab a fold of papers. “Not to kill the mood, but I’m clean. It’s all here. Yoongi says you are too.” Jimin wiggled the papers, his test results from just a few weeks prior. “I don’t want to use condoms.”

Taehyung sat back on his calves a little, looking at the papers Jimin was holding with bright eyes. “I—I have mine too. In my bass ba—” he stopped, grinning at Jimin’s laughter. “What?”

“You carry your test results around with you in your fucking instrument bag?” Jimin snorted, sitting down on the bed and tossing his papers at Taehyung.

“You keep them at your bed table!”

“It’s a good place for them!” Jimin combatted, squealing when Taehyung surged up from his knees and pressed him back onto the bed.

“Well, I didn’t know what was going to happen tonight—”

“Liar.”

“—and I wanted to have it, in case you wanted to see—do you want me to go get it—?”

“Not really.”

“You’re too trusting. Wait here.”

“Tae—” Jimin stopped short when Taehyung pushed back on his shoulders, keeping him pressed to the mattress. He leaned down, eyes glittering.

“I said wait.”

Jimin licked his lips. He nodded, once. Taehyung sat back, nodded towards the headboard. “Scoot up for me.”

Jimin swung himself around so he was laying on the bed longways, scooching with his feet until his head rested on the pillows at the top.

Taehyung reached over and dragged a finger up the underside of Jimin’s half-hard cock, fingertip lingering on the ring. “Hold your legs up for me.” His teeth caught on the piercing in his lip, playing with the silver as he watched Jimin hook his hands underneath his knees and pull them towards his chest.

“Now wait like this,” Taehyung said. He dipped forward and pressed a too-sweet kiss to Jimin’s lips, pulling away before Jimin could even lick into his mouth. “Wait, petal.”

Jimin didn’t say a word, trying to not even squirm as Taehyung pushed himself off the bed and exited the bedroom. He allowed himself a small huff when Taehyung was gone. He could feel his cock starting to grow in the ring, could feel his hole, stuffed for hours, clenching around absolutely nothing now that the plug was gone.

Jimin couldn’t help it. He whined, squeezing around his legs.

“Fuck,” he whispered, making another noise as he arched off the mattress.

“You’re impatient,” Taehyung commented from the doorway. He had his bass bag hooked over his shoulder again, paper in one hand.

Jimin arched off the mattress again. “I want your cock.”

“Told you to wait.”

“I did. I have.”

Taehyung had reached the bed again, and after he put down his bag by the edge, landed a hard, quick smack to Jimin’s ass. “You keep mouthing off, I’ll have to put something in your mouth.”

Jimin blushed, squeezing hard into his skin, watching with baited breath as Taehyung moved slowly, with a purpose. He held up the paperwork, close enough for Jimin to actually make out the words. Taehyung tapped on some key ones, and Jimin raised an eyebrow at him around the edge of the paper. “I believed you.”

“I appreciate that,” Taehyung said. “You need to learn patience, though.” He put the papers down, and stood, working at the button of his jeans, pushing himself out of them and his boxers, and then, it was Jimin’s turn to stare.

Curling up and around each long, long leg was a collection of thick, black tattoos. They climbed primarily up the swell of the sides, which explained why Jimin hadn’t noticed them the couple times he’d seen Taehyung, with rips in the fronts of his jeans. There were various designs and styles, probably done by a few different artists, but it went along with the delicate theme of nature Taehyung seemed to favor. The vines and flowers around his neck, the butterfly on his hand—and up the sides of his legs more vines, flowers, and dark patches of imagery; a big beautiful rose on the side of his left thigh, the other thigh a collection of leaves, with the face of a tiger peeking through. Near his ankle was a snapshot of what must be the night sky, little pale stars dotted throughout a dark backdrop.

“Holy shit,” Jimin said as Taehyung toed off his pants. Taehyung looked up at him, chewing on his lip piercing.

“Been adding to it for years,” Taehyung said, twisting a little to show off his right leg a little better. He smiled at Jimin. “You like it?”

“I want,” Jimin said, then stopped, because he wanted a lot, wanted to lick up the smooth, dark line of Taehyung’s leg, sink his teeth into the sunflower curling around the back of his calf, feel those legs wrap around his waist, pin his own legs down as he was fucked into.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him, and grinned. His cock was hard and flushed against his stomach

“You’re really fucking hot,” Jimin managed. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Patience,” Taehyung sang. He pulled off his shirt, and Jimin groaned outloud when he saw the darkly lined leaves flowering across the top of his chest, creeping near his collarbones. His laugh was low, at Jimin’s noise, and he took his time lowering himself on the bed, crawling up towards Jimin and finally stopping just a few inches from touching him.

“I’m gonna lose it,” Jimin said, and jumped a little when Taehyung stretched forward to shove two fingers in Jimin’s mouth.

“I told you to wait,” Taehyung said darkly. “You’re already hard, and I’ve barely touched you.” He slowly fucked his fingers in and out of Jimin’s mouth, using his other free hand to tickle around the cock ring, now fit snugly around the base. “No wonder you came so easily tonight. Bet it’s never enough for you, is it sweetheart?”

Taehyung pulled his fingers out enough, just enough to let Jimin answer without the words coming out too muffled. “Y-yeah—it’s not, it’s not.”

“Shh,” Taehyung murmured, pushing his fingers back in. “I know, petal. I’ll fix that. I’ll give you more than enough. Think you’ll be begging me to stop.”

Ambitious, Jimin wanted to say, but didn’t want to take his mouth off Taehyung’s fingers, didn’t want to discourage him from trying, either.

“That’s it,” Taehyung hummed. “You really do better with something in your mouth, don’t you? That’s all you need. Good boy.”

“Mmf,” Jimin moaned, readjusting his grip around his knees and hiking his legs up a little higher. He was. He sucked harder, and when Taehyung leaned closer, Jimin dragged his foot up around his side, hooking it behind his back. Taehyung was so close, all he’d have to do was shift a bit more and he could slide right in.

But Taehyung wasn’t moving anymore, close enough that Jimin could feel the heat of his body radiating onto his skin, could press his feet along his sides as he fucked his fingers into his mouth, but not close enough for his cock to rub between Jimin’s cheeks, for his skin to slide against Jimin’s, like he wanted.

Jimin whined around Taehyung’s fingers again, blinking slowly and rubbing his feet into Taehyung’s shoulders, his arms. Taehyung was looking down at Jimin with a serious sort of wonder in his expression, like Jimin was something precious and lovely. And in his care.

“I know, I know,” Taehyung said gently, pressing down on Jimin’s tongue. He glanced at the night table. “That your lube?”

Jimin nodded, trying not to preen when Taehyung grabbed it and popped open the cap. Taehyung caught the excited shift of his body, though, could surely feel the stutter of Jimin’s breath puff over his knuckles.

“Cute little slut,” Taehyung cooed. “Whining and panting for my cock.” He squeezed the bottle, and the lube dripped cold onto Jimin’s skin.

Jimin moaned loudly, only quieting down when Taehyung smeared the clear liquid all around his entrance. Saliva pooled in his mouth when Taehyung’s fingers dragged over his twitching skin.  

“You even gonna feel me, honey?” Taehyung asked lowly. “Already so sloppy and loose?” He pushed in two fingers, and Jimin arched, grip sliding on his own legs. “Gonna take me so well—” he twisted, crooked his fingers, then scissored them. Jimin muffled his cry into Taehyung knuckles. “—aren’t you?”

Jimin resisted the urge to kick at Taehyung’s shoulders, opting for nodding around his hand, blinking through wet eyelashes at him. His hair hung over his eyes as he shifted forward to close the distance between them, but Taehyung’s eyes were bright and focused down on the place where his cock rubbed over Jimin’s hole.

“Please,” Jimin tried, around Taehyung’s fingers, squirming when Taehyung shifted back, pushing his fingers back inside Jimin as he lowered his mouth back onto Jimin’s cock. “Tae, Tae.”

“Mhm?” Taehyung hummed, sounding pleased. Jimin shivered when he dragged his lips a certain way, the metal of the silver loop cool on Jimin’s flushed skin. Taehyung wrapped his lips around the head and sank down until his mouth touched the ring at the base. His fingers inside Jimin twisted.

“Ah—” Jimin shouted, heels bumping Taehyung’s shoulder blades, gasping brokenly when Taehyung swallowed around him. “Oh my god, oh my god—”

Taehyung, it seemed, still was not in a rush. He bobbed his head deeply over Jimin’s cock, fingering him just as deep and taking care to brush his fingers over Jimin’s prostate as he moved.

Jimin was losing his grip on his legs, letting one relax a bit and drape over Taehyung’s back. He couldn’t help but roll his hips up a little, enjoying the way each downward drop pushed Taehyung’s fingers a little deeper. He was hardly giving Taehyung’s fingers in his mouth any attention now, weakly suckling at two digits, more and more spit gathering around his lips. It is was nice. Jimin loved it.

Taehyung was good with his mouth, a cute, concentrated pinch in his brows as he moved up and down on Jimin’s cock, making low noises when his lips pushed against the ring, flicking his tongue playfully around the tip when he pulled off, and Jimin—

Jimin was a mess. He thought he understood the meaning of desperate until Taehyung dragged him to a whole other level of it, like he was now. He could feel his blood pumping in his cock, felt his gut tightening, but the pressure around the base of his dick pulsed, and he moaned as an orgasm ebbed, even as Taehyung still rubbed against his prostate.

“Please,” he begged again, gasping wetly around Taehyung’s fingers, trying not to kick his heel into Taehyung’s shoulder, but his fingers weren’t enough, nothing had been enough from the moment he’d pushed the plug inside him earlier in the evening. “Please, baby, please, please.”

Taehyung’s fingers slipped out of his mouth. There was spit on Jimin’s chin, which Taehyung took a moment to smear further before he straightened, pulling off Jimin with a pop and rubbing his cock back over Jimin’s entrance.

“I know, petal, I’m here. Feel that?” The tip of Taehyung’s cock pushed past his rim, and Jimin’s breath hitched, struggling to hitch his legs higher, take Taehyung deeper. “God, you open up so pretty, flower. Fuck.”

“Tae—” Jimin whispered, sighed in relief when Taehyung placed his palms firmly underneath Jimin’s legs, giving Jimin the opportunity to drape his arms around Taehyung’s neck. Just as his fingers tangled in the strands of Taehyung’s hair, Taehyung pushed Jimin’s legs back and sank himself completely in one, sharp motion.

Jimin moaned, pressing his mouth into the ink on Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung murmured something unintelligible, rolling his hips in a small circle and pulling another wrecked sound out of Jimin. It felt so good, to finally have the weight of Taehyung heavy on top of him, inside him, and Jimin sighed breathily when Taehyung canted his hips back then fucked back into him again.

“Taehyung, it feels—” Jimin whimpered. “So good, sogood.”

Taehyung turned his head, kissed the side of Jimin’s head. “You’re so good. I can feel you clenching up around me, sweetheart.” Taehyung rocked his hips again, shifting his head to swallow Jimin’s next sounds. “That’s it, fuck, fuck.”

Jimin gasped around Taehyung’s tongue, moving his hips to meet Taehyung’s thrusts, finding a grip in Taehyung’s hair and pulling at the strands whenever he sank deep.

“Ah,” Taehyung groaned, kissing Jimin sloppily before resecuring his grip under Jimin’s legs and pushing them higher, up until his legs hooked over Taehyung’s shoulders. “Fuck—Jimin.”

“Yeah,” Jimin mumbled, let himself go a little boneless, let Taehyung really fuck into him. “Taetae, y-you—feel so—” He tightened his grip on Taehyung’s hair, and Taehyung let his head be pulled back, elongating the pretty inked expanse of his throat. Jimin lurched forward, latched his lips onto it, moaning louder when Taehyung began snapping his hips with force. He could feel the mattress dipping with their weight, hear the frame starting to knock against the wall.

“God—nng, god,” Jimin cried into Taehyung’s neck, biting down when Taehyung squeezed his legs and snapped his hips hard enough to bruise. His thighs burned, but he wanted to Taehyung to keep pushing against him, bend him in half, fuck him until he couldn’t swallow a breath.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Taehyung growled into Jimin’s jaw, and, as if he had read Jimin’s mind, he pushed against his legs, forcing his ass to lift higher off the mattress, providing a better angle for him. He caught a grip, right under Jimin’s knees, allowing him to push until Jimin’s legs were nearly straight.

“Gonna fuck you, now,” Taehyung whispered when Jimin was properly folded in half, panting harshly as Taehyung’ cock teased just inside him. “Gonna fuck you right. Pretty little slut.”

“Please,” Jimin begged, and before he could open his mouth to say it again, Taehyung was slamming into him.

Jimin screamed, lips sliding clumsily against his own knees as Taehyung fucked him, hard enough that there was a steady tapping of the bed frame against Jimin’s wall now, a loud squeak of the mattress springs as the bed dipped and bounced, hard enough that Jimin scrambled for a grip on something, anything he could hold, one hand digging at Taehyung’s leg, the other in the sheets just beside him.

“Fuck, Taehyung, fuck,” Jimin whined, thrashing, feeling his cock ring around his base, a sob ripping out of his throat as his cock pulsed. “Fuck, fuck—please, please—?”

“Good boy,” Taehyung husked into his skin, snapping his hips harder, burying himself deeper. “Stay just like this, let me fuck you like you wanted—”

“Taehyung,” Jimin cried. “I j-jus—”

Taehyung hushed him, breathlessly, moving faster, his expression serious, intense, but lips twitching when he felt Jimin scratch into the tattoos on the side of his legs. “That’s it,” he murmured, and rocked into Jimin hard enough to force him up the mattress a couple inches. When he fucked into him again, Jimin gasped, feeling the crown of his head bump the wall.

“Tae—” Jimin whined, but Taehyung was already spreading Jimin’s legs open again, wrapping them around his waist and crowding closer so he could cup over the top of Jimin’s head with his palm.

“I got you,” Taehyung panted, groaning roughly when Jimin wrapped his legs around his waist and tugged him tighter, digging his heels into Taehyung’s lower back. “Got you, flower, that’s it, that’s it, feel how deep you’re taking me?”

“Mmhm, Taehyung,” Jimin whimpered, burrowing his face into Taehyung’s neck. “Tae, I, I wanna—wanna come—”

“Before me?” Taehyung laughed, kissed the side of Jimin’s face sweetly. “No, pet. Not till I say. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

It was mind boggling that, although there was absolutely a breathlessness to Taehyung’s voice, he still sounded put together, just a little raspier around the edges. Jimin wanted to hear his voice quiver, wanted to feel his moan tremble from deep in his chest when he came.

So Jimin took a quick, sharp breath and clenched hard around Taehyung on his next thrust.

Taehyung’s hips stuttered, his teeth scraping over Jimin’s jaw as he rutted hard into Jimin’s heat, a curse breaking across Jimin’s ear.

“Jimin,” Taehyung said. He lifted his head, pressed a kiss to Jimin’s slick, swollen mouth, picking up his quick, deep pace. Jimin couldn’t do much but sit there, mouth parted as Taehyung licked into it. When he felt the cool edge of Taehyung’s lip ring, he tried to kiss back, pleased murmurs choking out of his mouth as his body shifted back and forth on the bed.

“Tight, thick little body,” Taehyung groaned, briefly burying his head into Jimin’s neck as he moved faster. “Gonna make me come. God, gonna fuck it all into you and lick it out—”

“Taehyung,” Jimin whined, legs squeezing around his waist, one foot climbing higher up Taehyung’s back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer.

“Yeah, petal, tell me,” Taehyung said into his ear. He tilted Jimin’s head to the side, sucking down the flushed, heaving stretch of his neck. “Tell me.”

“Taehyung, m’so—hard—” Jimin’s breath hitched when Taehyung’s fingers curled around his aching cock, tracing around the ring at the base.

“You’re so hot,” Taehyung said with a breathless laugh, surging back to kiss Jimin on the mouth, sloppy as he grinned. “Fuckfuck you—y’feel so good—”

Jimin grinded up desperately into Taehyung, using the leverage of his body slamming deep into the mattress to bounce back up, take Taehyung deeper. They were both breathing heavy, and fast, Taehyung letting out deep, rough noises as his pace became almost brutal. Jimin could feel sweat pooling in the dips of his body, from the dimples in his back to the skin just under the swell of his lower lip.

“Jimin—” Taehyung moaned, moaned into his jaw, biting down on his lip and giving it a rough tug. Jimin stretched into it, grasping Taehyung closer, clenching his muscles and then relaxing them quick each time Taehyung fucked inside. The noise this punched out of Taehyung’s throat brought wild sort of giggle to Jimin’s lips, and he clutched Taehyung tighter.

“Want your cum,” Jimin whispered, sweet and soft and breathless, and as he flicked his tongue over Taehyung’s lip ring, Taehyung let out a wild, wrenching groan, one that cracked at the edges, one that Jimin felt reverberate against his own chest.

Taehyung buried himself deep, hips rutting and grinding and stuttering as he came, came deep inside Jimin with an awed moan of his name.

“Tae,” Jimin whispered, faintly, gasping as Taehyung continued to grind it out, fuck him full. “Taehyung, shit.”

Taehyung kissed him with a low noise, sifting back a little, just enough so he could curl his hands gently around Jimin’s aching cock and give it a teasing little stroke. Jimin whined his name again.

“Soon, so soon, flower,” Taehyung promised in a hushed voice. He kissed him one more time, then gently began to move down, slowly pulling himself out of Jimin.

“Wait—” Jimin gasped, not wanting to leak everywhere, giving up on the protest when Taehyung pushed his legs up higher and, in a quick, fluid motion, dipped down to fasten his mouth over Jimin’s sensitive rim, flattening his tongue in over the entrance in a broad, upward stroke.

Jimin would have jerked much more violently had he not just gotten the bones fucked out of him. As it was, he twitched, head flopping to the side and drool sliding past his parted lips. His whine was weak as Taehyung lapped at the mess, noisy and wet. In between, he pressed gentle, reassuring kisses to the puffy, fucked out skin of Jimin’s rim before licking out more of the cum, and by default, lube. It was messy, unrefined, and Jimin’s muscles were tightening, tightening, tight and he just wanted to come.

By the time Taehyung gently lowered Jimin’s legs to the mattress, Jimin was shaking, eyes half-shut, mouth wet with spit. Taehyung crawled up until he hovered directly over him, finger coming to grasp under Jimin’s chin and tilt his towards him.

Jimin’s cheeks reddened and, without another thought, he opened his mouth.

The kiss was filthy, a mix of spit, plus the lube and cum Taehyung had just eaten out of Jimin’s ass. Jimin thought, if the ring wasn’t snug around the base of his cock, keeping his orgasm at bay, Jimin would have come easily from that alone.

As it was, he arched up desperately into Taehyung body, whining loud and breaking the kiss with a gasp when Taehyung grasped the base of his cock and nudged at the ring.

“Can you come with this on?” Taehyung whispered. “Or do you want it off?”

“I don’t—” Jimin gasped, chest heaving as Taehyung began to pump him, kissing his swollen lips softly as he did. “—know, I don’t know—”

“Let’s see,” Taehyung murmured, letting go of Jimin’s chin to pinch one of his nipples, swallowing Jimin’s whine with another kiss. “Good boy, good boy—wanna see you come for me.”

“I—Tae—” Jimin choked, writhing up off the mattress and groaning at the hard, noticeable pulse in his dick. “Fuck, fuck—”

“Mhm,” Taehyung hummed, biting Jimin’s lip again. His fingers were wet, sloppy, his body was so hot against Jimin’s, and he was twisting his wrist just right, gripping just right, his voice was so low in Jimin’s ears. “Jimin, you’re so pretty. You can come, I know you can—”

His fingers grasped at the ring, gave it a gentle pull, and it slid halfway up Jimin’s cock. On Taehyung’s next down-up tug, the ring was pushed off completely, and Jimin could feel like a punch to the gut how hot he was, how swollen and sensitive.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Taehyung whispered.

“Taehyung,” Jimin cried, and for a moment, he only saw the white splotches of light flashing on the inside of his eyelids when his orgasm slammed into him. His hips rolled, and the pleasure was sharp, tight, cock throbbing painfully as cum smeared on his abs, across the backs of Taehyung’s fingers.

“Oh, good, good, pretty,” Taehyung praised, kissing Jimin’s wet, trembling lips. “So good, you’re so perfect.”

“Taehyung—” Jimin gasped. “Baby, fuck—fuck—” he shook his head weakly from side to side. “Oh my god. Oh, oh god.”

Taehyung flopped his head briefly into the pillow next to Jimin’s, mumbling into it before lifting his head and kissing Jimin wetly on the mouth. “You’re so hot. You’re so attractive, Jimin. I can’t believe I just got to eat my cum out of your ass.”

“Shut,” Jimin mumbled, “up.”

“No,” Taehyung purred into his jaw, mouthing over the little marks he’d made in his neck. “You even kissed me afterwards. You’re amazing.”

“Of course I did,” Jimin said, finally finding enough energy to turn his head and seek out Taehyung’s mouth with his. “S’hot. You’re hot too. I like your tattoos. You look like a rock god on stage.”

Taehyung chuckled. “This is just the post-sex talk.”

“No it’s not,” Jimin said, opening his eyes wider. “I wanna make you come all over your bass and then lick it clean for you.” He nuzzled closer, smiling at Taehyung’s stunned expression. “And I thought of that two minutes into seeing you. S’not post-sex talk.”

Taehyung’s teeth clicked against his lip ring. “Holy shit.”

Jimin chuckled into Taehyung’s jaw. “Probably wouldn’t be good for your instrument.”

“I don’t think I give a shit,” Taehyung said, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s forehead. “Let me get a towel, clean you up a little?”

“Hurry up,” Jimin said, reaching for Taehyung dramatically when he rolled off the bed and bounded toward the bathroom, the cock ring hooked around one finger. Jimin heard him turn on the faucet, fumbling around for a towel. “Just grab the one off the rack,” Jimin said. “Come back.”

Taehyung was smiling when he walked out of the bathroom. He sat at the edge of the bed and gently ran the damp towel all over the parts of Jimin body covered in lube or cum, starting around his mouth first before following the path down between his legs. Jimin squirmed and Taehyung cooed at him.

“How’s it feel?” Taehyung asked, voice soft, as he dragged the towel between Jimin’s cheeks, taking in Jimin’s light shiver.

“Mm, sensitive,” Jimin sighed, curling closer when Taehyung tossed the towel over the side of the bed. “Like I had a plug in it all night,” he added dryly.

“Thank you,” Taehyung said, kissing the top of Jimin’s head. “What’d the earth do to deserve you?”

“I ask it this every morning,” Jimin said with a sigh.

Taehyung smiled, one that made his eyes shine and lips curve cutely. Jimin quickly gave in to the urge to kiss his lower lip.

“So,” Jimin hummed. “Did you really get Yoongi to wear plugs in public when you dated?”

Taehyung made a sound that was half a snort, half a laugh. “He said something? That’s funny. He liked it.” Taehyung lightly pinched his tongue between his teeth and grinned at Jimin around it, playful.

Jimin stuck his tongue right back out at him. “Do you…sleep with them a lot?”

Taehyung’s expression turned thoughtful. “Kinda. It’s been a few months, honestly. We’ve all been busy and stuff.” He licked his lips, looking a little pink in the cheeks. “You’re actually the first person I’ve slept with since I fucked them.”

“You just let me suck your dick like it was nothing though,” Jimin said. “You’re—you’re a pseudo-rock star!”

“Pseudo?” Taehyung said, sounding mildly appalled. “You just called me a rock god.”

Jimin hid his smile behind the tips of his fingers. “Sorry. I was just surprised.”

Taehyung pursed his lips. “When the spark is there, it’s there right? When it’s not, it’s not.” Taehyung rolled his eyes at Jimin’s amused smile. “Tease all you want.”

“I will,” Jimin said, then added, more softly, “you’re not a pseudo-rock god though, I’ll give you that.”

Taehyung hummed, pulling Jimin closer up against him. “I accept.”  

They lay there in a comfortable quiet for a few minutes. When Jimin spoke again, his words came out in a mumble. “You know if…we all four happened to be into it one night…would you—”

Taehyung grinned pressing his thumbs into the flush on Jimin’s cheeks. “What am I gonna say, no?”

“Shut up,” Jimin said with a laugh. “Umm. That’s.”

Taehyung’s grin turned a little wicked. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin slowly on the mouth. “Yeah?”

“Just, you know, good to know,” Jimin said primly, ignoring Taehyung’s laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” Taehyung said. He curled his arm around Jimin’s back, tugging him higher up his chest. “I don’t mind you fucking them, and all that. I bet I fuck you better, though,” Taehyung said with an overly casual shrug, but his serious expression cracked when Jimin shoved him.

“Y’know,” Jimin said, twirling a strand of Taehyung’s hair around his finger, “I’m not aching for Yoongi or Jungkook to take me out to dinner, or anything. But if you were to ask,” Jimin said, trying to keep his expression neutral as Taehyung watched him with a small smile. “I might want to go.”

“Good to know,” Taehyung said lightly.

“Good,” Jimin said back, trying not to purse his lips.

Taehyung was still smiling. “Would a date mean you stop fucking them?”

Jimin traced over the back of Taehyung’s  butterfly tattoo. “Would it mean you want me to?”

Taehyung flipped his hand over, interlacing their fingers. “Not at all. I guess it might be good know—although you don’t have to tell me—if you’re fucking anyone else?”

Jimin made an indignant noise. “What, you think I’m fucking more than three people at once?”

Taehyung kissed Jimin’s pout. “There’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart, if it’s what you want. Besides,” Taehyung glanced at Jimin’s bedside. “You keep your test results—”

“Shut up, it makes sense!” Jimin groaned, trying not-very-hard to tug away from Taehyung then flopping dramatically across his chest. He took a moment to actually think about Taehyung’s question. “It’s—it’s just them, honestly,” he said, feeling a little pink in the cheeks. “For a few months, it’s just been them.” He looked at Taehyung. “Is that—do you—?”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung grinned, pushing Jimin’s hair out of his eyes. “Thanks for telling me. You’re fine. I want to take you on a date, and I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing. I like it. And you.”  Taehyung draped the covers over them, while Jimin tried to get a handle on his thoughts, feeling heat bruise his cheeks. “Want to watch a movie?”

“I want you to show me your favorite songs,” Jimin mumbled after a beat, reaching for his phone. “You know, don’t they say music is the key to your soul? Or is it food for the soul?”

Taehyung grinned. “Either way. I like where you’re going with that.” He kissed Jimin’s nose, then one blushing cheek. “All right. The key to my soul. You ready?”

“Ready,” Jimin said, and closed his eyes as he tilted his head to listen, the warmth of Taehyung’s heart beating beneath his palm.