Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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Jimin had a bit of a reputation where he came from. 

It wasn’t something he was ashamed of. If anything, he owned it -- stalking through the halls of his high school with an air of indifference to the looks shot his way. 

Eyes were always on him. 

If it wasn’t because he was already well known as the rich son of a high-ranking politician, or his penchant for perfect grades, it could have been how he managed to make even his stiff school uniform look like a runway piece. 

Or maybe, it was because his name was scrawled on nearly every stall in the boys’ bathrooms.

“Park Jimin will suck you dry, no questions asked.”

Some of the rudimentary scribbles were like full-fledged reviews of his ‘services,’ singing his praises with graphic recountings of how he had no gag reflex to speak of but he never swallowed, “Doesn’t swallow, what a waste, looks good dripping from his juicy lips though. 9/10.”

You’d think there would be more slurs involved -- crude permanent carvings calling him a dirty slut, a homo, or worse, but at an all-boys school in Busan, beggars weren’t about to be choosers. It didn’t matter if the guys were straight or not, it was an open secret, getting sucked off by Park Jimin was worth your time, and there was nothing gay about blowing your load with pillowy lips like Jimin’s wrapped around you. 

Or at least that’s how they all managed to rationalize it. 

He’d just about sucked every willing cock at his school which was more than half of the upperclassmen, giving generously, with no discernment. It didn’t matter if they had a small cock, if they were ugly, fat, or rude, none of it mattered. Everything dulled in Jimin’s overworking brain when he was on his knees, a harsh grip tangled in his blond hair. He didn’t feel so gratingly empty inside when his mouth was stuffed full. 

He could blank out everything else.

There were no inadequacies, failures, shortcomings, harsh imposing glares of disdain and disappointment in those moments. 

No, because Jimin lived to please and no one was left unsatisfied, even if he didn’t love the taste of cum and never managed to swallow. 

The guys at his school were nice to him, sucking up to him as if it mattered, he’d suck their dick’s regardless but it felt good all the same. It never failed to surprise him though, when he’d open his locker and find yet another love confession slipped inside, a shockingly straight-seeming senior now pledging his undying devotion to him.

It came with the territory, but Jimin wasn’t in this for love or affection. He wasn’t really capable. The only thing he had inside him was a gaping empty void, his heart lost somewhere along the way.

He at least had the decency to let people down gently, suck them off to soothe their wounded pride. Give a little more of himself away and attempt to fill the chasm left in its wake with more empty sexual encounters.

After all of that, it would probably shock most to find out that Jimin was actually a virgin. 

That fact didn’t stop people from saying otherwise. About 90% of the guys he had in his mouth had claimed to bend him over the toilet or take him behind the bleachers at some point, even though none of it was true. Each one trying to outdo and top the next. But it didn’t matter, talk was just talk. 

He had never intended to remain a virgin forever, it’s not like he was holding out hope that he’d find Mr. Right someday. Despite plenty of offers, and plenty who already claimed they’d had him in every position known to man, Jimin just felt no drive for sex. He was satisfied enough with blow jobs, so why make it more complicated by fucking his classmates too?

So he had a reputation, one that grew a life of its own, like rumors tended to.

And he owned it. For now. But maybe, just maybe, someday he would be able to fill his void with something more meaningful.

The reason for his behavior wasn’t overly complicated. He had trauma, a shitty homelife, an overbearing homophobic father who never loved him, and a penchant for acting out. His story was hardly unique or special, after all, who didn’t have some kind of sob story these days? But truthfully, the simple fact was that he liked it. 

It may have started out as curiosity, a drive to feel in control of something in his life, to forget how empty he felt by being needed -- wanted, craved, but it grew into something else. 

An addiction of sorts. 

As elicit as his needs seemed, it wasn’t really sexual, at least not for him. He never got aroused from giving blowjobs, it was all quite transactional anyway. Sure, he would always put on a show. He knew what the guys liked to see; watering red-rimmed eyes looking up at them through his dark lashes, a flick of his tongue sensually running up the side of their hardness, teasing the slit, rubbing the tip against his soft lips. But it was all performative.

Despite the lack of arousal he still managed to get off on it in his own way. 

In the satisfaction of being useful, feeling powerful, defying his father’s expectations, owning his own choices for once, and in a strange way by doing exactly what his father thought his “faggot of a son” would be doing. 

There are only so many times you can groundlessly be accused of being a depraved sex-crazed abomination just for being gay before something inside you shrivels up and dies.

In Jimin’s case, he just decided to become exactly that. What else mattered at this point anyway?

17 years old, and Jimin had already settled into the notion that nothing fucking mattered, at least not now. Not while he was still in high school and stuck living with someone who thought he was a cum-stain on the family tree.

But it was almost over.

It was his last week of school, Senior year, almost a memory he could put in his rearview before going off to university in Seoul, far enough away to hopefully forget his whole wasted life in Busan. Far enough away that maybe he could finally breathe, finally be free.

It was all he held on to.

In the meantime, he drifted through his last classes of the semester in a fog. His mind was elsewhere, somewhere in his future where maybe he didn’t have a reputation or a hollow pit inside him. Maybe with a fresh start, healing his raw insides with friends, a boyfriend... But for now, the boys of his school seemed more ravenous than usual, as if realizing their time was up, getting more and more greedy, and desperate for his time. 

It was fine, if a little inconvenient.

He was barely out of his first class of the day before his hand had been tugged away by the clammy fingers of a shy boy with glasses whom he shared homeroom with, one who seemingly had never had the guts to approach him before but perhaps realized he would likely never get the chance again. His fingers trembled in Jimin’s hand as he wordlessly led him into the photography darkroom, and nervously kissed him. 

His lips were chapped, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose, but Jimin couldn’t help but be endeared. The guys never usually bothered with any kind of kissing or gentle touches, not that it mattered, but Jimin let the boy kiss him, for the boy's sake. It was clumsy and awkward, reeking of inexperience but it was sweet. Until Jimin sank to his knees and unzipped his pants. 

The interaction was over quickly, which was for the best. Jimin had places to be, but he kissed the boy on the cheek as he left him standing there with his pants around his ankles. 

He hoped it would be a nice memory for the obvious virgin.

Towards the end of the day, Jimin had already spent his entire lunch break in an empty classroom with a guy who frustratingly dragged the entire event out, edging himself until Jimin forced his hands behind his back and took him so deep he blew his load down his throat, which had Jimin hacking and coughing the cum out in the trash and an empty stomach to top it all off. 

It was then no surprise that he was now being hauled into the bathroom on his way to his last class by a much less gentle senior he could hardly remember the name of. Baeknam or Nambaek or something… 

His cock, however, he remembered well. 

Decent sized, if a bit thin, his pubes were annoyingly long though and always made Jimin’s face feel raw when he made him deep throat him. 

He was rushed into the first empty stall, which happened to be the one everyone didn’t bother with because the latch was broken. It was cramped and gross, Jimin hated giving blowjobs in the bathroom but it was at least close to his class for when he needed to make a break for it. 

Their bags were dumped on the dirty floor, kicked to the side in a desperate hurry. The other also seemed strapped for time and while the door kept lurching open with a slow creak, the senior seemed too aroused to worry about the inconvenience, instead of simply choosing another stall the senior fumbled with the door until he gave up letting it slowly creep open, committed to simply get sucked off before anyone walked in. 

Jimin was pushed onto the toilet, pliant. Almost robotically his hands rested on the taller’s thighs as he fumbled with his belt and zipper.

His cock was already hard and wet at the tip, excited, impatient, eager. That twisted a smile onto Jimin’s lips, he did always appreciate not having to work them up for a blow job, they always came to him ready to go. He was about to be late to class after all.

Jimin set to work without another thought, not a word exchanged, only sweaty hands pushing his hair back from his face to get the full view of Jimin hard at work on his cock and soft sounds of slurping could be heard. 

Jimin wasn’t worried about being discrete overall, there weren’t many places on campus where he hadn’t sucked dick, and this was far from the most daring. But even if his father hadn’t donated hundreds of thousands of won to encourage the staff to look the other way from his son’s copious embarrassing transgressions, he wasn’t particularly keen on drawing the attention of a wayward teacher compelled to investigate moaning sounds so he kept it quiet and worked fast. 

The door jostled as the other boy canted his hips forward, his head tipping back knocking against it and further exposing the occupants within while thrusting shallowly into Jimin’s mouth, a barely concealed moan on his lips. 

He was getting close, and fast, stumbling forward into Jimin whose hands went up to hold the senior by the hips to right himself on the toilet, lest he be face fucked off the porcelain surface onto the dirty floor.  

The door slipped open, more and more, slowly, unbidden, as soft footsteps thudded against the tiled floor at the entrance of the bathroom. There was a sudden sense of panic that swelled within Jimin, an urge to conceal himself, even if it was no secret what he got up to.

Jimin’s eyes were watering, mouth stuffed full as he attempted to reach behind the senior to shut the stall, but it was out of reach. He tapped on the senior’s side to get his attention, but he was too far gone, pummeling Jimin’s wet mouth with fervor.

The sound of footsteps came to a sudden stop, and a soft gasp emitted just out of his eyesight. The stall was now gaping open revealing the occupants inside and Jimin’s hands fell weakly to his side in half-hearted defeat. 

He didn’t know what he had expected. But it wasn’t silence. It wasn’t this.

He had never been watched by a third party before, but somehow the husky panting belonging to the owner of the cock currently stuffed down his throat was drowned out by the way Jimin’s heartbeat was thudding in his chest with the thrill.

He didn’t even know who was standing just outside his line of vision, but knowing there were a pair of eyes silently taking them in was enough to fill Jimin with a burning sort of excitement. He suddenly wanted to see them, he wanted to look into their eyes and feel something new. Even if it was shame or embarrassment, he just wanted to feel.

He scooted himself to the side, twisting his upper body and causing the other boy to helplessly follow his mouth, putting Jimin in his spectator’s line of vision for the first time. Jimin had his eyes closed, intent to put on a bit of a show, while tears pooled from the corners of his eyes and his cheeks flamed red, lips swollen and wet. He took the senior deep, pressing himself into his ungroomed overgrown pubes, scratching his already raw face, and hollowing his cheeks as he pulled back, finally opening his red-rimmed eyes to look into the eyes of his one-person audience. 

Not a staff member.

A student, and he was definitely younger.

There seemed to be recognition among other things flashing across his features, but Jimin didn’t recognize him.

He was possibly a junior if his height was anything to go by. Clearly, he’d hit a growth spurt recently from the way his body looked stretched thin and limbs were all lanky, but his face was round and soft, innocent, still screaming of the childlike youthfulness that hadn’t quite caught up to the rest of his body yet. 

Tousled dark hair fell into his large bottomless dark eyes, he had a somewhat big nose, flushed cheeks, and full lips dropped open as he found himself frozen in place under Jimin’s attention. 

Jimin had never seen him before, and while truthfully there were plenty of people he’d probably only remember by the size and girth of their cock’s, Jimin felt like he wouldn’t be able to forget someone with those eyes.

He stared at Jimin in shock at being held in his gaze, but there was also something else behind the wide dark doe eyes of the underclassman. Something Jimin couldn’t pinpoint, a bit of a spark, a fire that had just been lit from within. Jimin couldn’t bring himself to look away, similarly, the underclassman seemed unable to blink or move, his eyes shifting from fear to confusion to finally something a bit darker. 

It wasn’t more than a few heated seconds before the senior was unceremoniously pulling on Jimin’s hair roughly, his cock tip poised at the precipice of Jimin’s lips where he jerked himself against Jimin’s mouth until he had painted Jimin in his release. 

This was both the best and the worst part. 

The fruits of his labor, the proof of a job well done, and yet the fruit was tainted. The taste was abysmal as always. Bitter, acrid, salty cum splashed against his tongue and dripped down Jimin’s chin. He spit a little to rid himself of what had gotten in his mouth, but still, his heavy-lidded eyes never left the underclassman. 

For some reason he didn’t understand, he felt compelled to continue the performance despite his typical distaste. The unusual urge washed over him as Jimin licked his cum slick lips, not for the senior who was still shuddering from the aftershocks of his own orgasm, but for this boy who still watched entranced with eyes that darted to Jimin’s mouth and flicked up to hold his gaze once again. Jimin wanted him to remember the way he looked at that moment. 

The younger was breathing hard, his face pink, a light sheen of sweat seemingly erupting out of nowhere. His fists were clenched and a look of sheer panic flashed across his face. Before Jimin knew what was happening he was running from the room in a flash.

Jimin frowned, the high from moments before crashing faster than he had ever experienced. He had half a mind to follow him, he had looked… upset? Perhaps ill? Jimin suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, further sullying the fleeting rush; it hadn’t been his intention to traumatize the poor kid. But what exactly had been his intention? He never messed with underclassmen before, too young, too innocent, unprepared for just how cruel a taste of Jimin could be.

A taste of something they could never really have.

Yet something about how he had been gripped by the younger’s unwavering stare made Jimin feel. What he felt he couldn’t quite be sure, but he was more than intrigued. At the very least, he felt obligated to check on him. If that also meant sating a curiosity that those big eyes could enrapture him and boldly hold his gaze even without a cock in his mouth, then no one had to know.

He had no idea who he was though, and he was probably already long gone by now, skidding back to class without having even managed to use the bathroom as he had clearly intended. While Jimin hoped he might catch a glimpse of the younger again, the chances were slim, the school was large and there was barely a week left before he’d be free from these halls forever.

Probably for the best, though it left Jimin with a sort of sinking feeling inside. He couldn’t dwell. No time, he was late. 

Really late. 

The spent senior was already tucking himself back into his pants, either unaware or unbothered that they had just performed for an audience. 

Jimin wordlessly grabbed his bag and pushed past the senior still arranging himself in the crowded stall, marching over to the sink to wash the cum from his face. He cleaned quickly, scrubbing his already raw skin with a paper towel. The sounds of shuffling behind him and a crude slap on the butt were all he got from the nameless boy as he left Jimin alone to wipe the remains of his encounter from his chin. 

Just before the bathroom door, Jimin stopped in his tracks as something caught his attention. Dropping his bag to the floor, he snatched a small sheet of paper from the ground. The slip of paper almost would have gone unnoticed as a random piece of trash if it weren’t for the fact that he recognized it clearly as a hall pass with a timestamp of just a few minutes ago. It was from the Fine Arts class two classrooms down the hall.

Jimin wasted no time, mindless as he rushed out of the bathroom, still clutching the pass as he neared the door to the Fine Arts classroom. The glass windows outside had blinds but they were thankfully open, revealing a dozen easels with students shuffling around inside between canvases, either engrossed in their work or perusing the progress of the others. 

He didn’t know why he was holding his breath, why his heart was thudding dully in his chest, anxious to spot the doe-eyed younger amidst the other students, but even still he raked his eyes over every face, to no avail. 

The round-eyed underclassman wasn’t there. Jimin’s brows furrowed, he had to have been the one with the hall pass, no one else had entered or left the stalls and he was pretty certain he didn’t see the paper on the floor when he had gone in, then again, he had been distracted.

A few curious glances were shot his way from within the room, a flash of recognition in the eyes of those who noticed him, but none of them were who he was looking for. Jimin huffed a breath as he pushed away from the glass, lest he draw more attention to himself. He couldn’t explain why he felt such a strong sting of disappointment. Surely it was just a genuine concern for the younger, nothing more, but even Jimin himself wasn’t buying his own excuse. 

He couldn’t get the younger’s image out of his head, the way those dark eyes had pierced into his, reflecting so much in their inky darkness had elicited something intense inside him. 

At the time he hadn’t cared if there were repercussions, it could have been a teacher watching, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had a voyeur kink, not that he was aware of anyway. It could have been anyone, and it didn’t sexually excite him like you’d imagine, the idea of having someone watch him had never been a thought in his mind.

In his emptiness, there was little that could compel him to feel much, so it had been a split-second decision, hoping for something, anything, to quell that sucking vacuum inside of him. He would have been satisfied with disgust, vitriol, hell, even being dragged out of the stall and having his ass beaten would have been something. What he hadn’t expected was to feel the clear stir of his own arousal, his cheeks flooded with heat that had nothing to do with the way he had been roughly taking dick in his mouth. 

This was something new. This was something addictive. 

He liked the way he had seen the flush creep up the younger's neck, the way he stood stock still, breathing hard as if Jimin’s mouth had been wrapped around him instead. The way he could sense his trepidation, his arousal, and his guilt all at once. It had practically come off the younger in waves, so many emotions flitting across his boyish features, and it filled Jimin with a thousand pleasing sensations, ones he didn’t know he could even experience at this point.

He pushed the swirling thoughts to the back of his head, along with the rest of his constant inner turmoil. It was probably for the best that he hadn’t found the underclassman, while he had hoped to satiate the lingering curiosity it was just as likely that the kid would have been too embarrassed to even entertain a conversation with him anyway. It was the last week of school after all, and he was doomed to be another footnote in a period of time Jimin longed to put behind him. 

Even if he maybe didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget those eyes.

Reluctantly, he moved in the direction of his own class. He hastened his steps down the corridor hoping no one else thought would be a good time to yank Jimin into an empty classroom or closet. He’d likely still go, but his Physics teacher was probably the only staff member in the school that he didn’t have wrapped around his little pinkie, and getting detention in the last week of school would be annoying, to say the least.

He was almost at the end of the hall when he heard a thud from behind him, it sounded like it was coming from the janitor's closet, a bucket or broom falling against a door perhaps? The quiet whimper that followed the dull thump from within set Jimin spinning on his feet towards the door, his ears trained on the sounds from inside. 

He couldn’t have just imagined it, right? 

Silence.

Jimin waited, his breath held, leaning closer to the door until his hands were pressed against the cool surface. 

Panting.

He could hear the harsh breathing as if whoever was hiding behind the door had just run a marathon, but it was muted somehow as if through a tightly clenched jaw, an attempt to subdue their desperate breaths.

Jimin closed his eyes, the sight burned into his memory at the forefront of his mind of the lanky underclassman, his tousled bangs beginning to stick to his forehead with the beads of sweat accumulating there. 

Could it be?

Jimin heard more shuffling sounds, a thunk against the back of the closet, and finally a moan. It was more than clear someone was inside hiding away, and they sounded… in need.

His hand reached for the knob, compelled by the moaning within, hope rekindling that he might find the object of his curiosity inside.

Luckly, it wasn’t locked, Jimin wasn’t even sure it could be locked from the inside anyway. The knob turned with buttery ease, and Jimin tugged it open a crack, peeking from the slitted opening to the darkness inside.

There was a sudden clamor of sounds as whoever was inside startled fiercely and pressed themself further into the dark closet. 

“Please! D-don’t come in! I-I- ugh, I can’t--” 

The voice was rife with emotion, sounds of sniffling accompanying the stuttered plea, the owner of the voice still shrouded in the darkness.

From the sliver of light filtering in from the hall, Jimin could just make out the tips of white sneakers peeking from beneath the crumpled pants that pooled around them.

Jimin immediately ignored the request, pulling open the door enough to squeeze inside and shut it as quickly as he could. Now joined in the darkness with nothing else to take in, Jimin noticed several things.

The closet was warm, too warm, humid with body heat that seemed impossible to have been generated by just one person.

The second was the scent.

Beyond the cloying chemical scents of various cleaning supplies, there was something heavy in the air, thick and pungent and altogether intoxicating.

It smelled of desperate desire, of need, of sex, and distinctly of vetiver. The notes of which seemed to explode in the room, rich, woody, citrusy, fresh vetiver, with the combination of scents it was like what Jimin imagined his own personal heaven to be scented. 

The needy whimpers escalated after a brief moment of utter silence, both sharing breaths in the humid closet like they were bursting to be released from the other’s chest.

Jimin was dumbstruck, the symphony of stimuli rendering him immobile as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the closet.

“I’m s-sorry!” The whisper tore from the other’s chest as did the pained moans, when the distinct sound of wet arousal joined in, as if only momentarily interrupted and unable to stop now. 

The wet rapid movements continued as Jimin began to take in the sight before him, still shadowy, still hard to make out, but what couldn’t be missed even in the dim was the disheveled figure of a boy fiercely jerking off. Aggressive uncontrolled movements accompanied by anguished barely constrained whimpers, like he was punishing himself. It couldn’t possibly feel good like that. 

Jimin’s heart clenched. 

If this wasn’t the boy from the bathroom, who else could it be? Jimin leaned into the sudden confidence that thought brought, a boy walking in on him in the bathroom sucking off another guy had to run away to a closet just to get off from the sight of it?

“Why are you sorry?” Jimin asked softly. 

His voice seemed to startle the other again, the movements halting for a heartbeat before they seemed to be drowned out by more pressing urges.

“C-cus, I-I saw, a-and ugh, now--I can’t stop,” he gritted out, clearly words were hard to summon at the moment. Jimin expected he wouldn’t be getting much in the way of conversation given the situation, but it was confirmation enough of who he was in the closet with.

“Shh,” he felt compelled to soothe. “Don’t have to apologize for that. I wanted you to see.”

“W-why?” The other managed around a grunt, hand still angrily fisting himself.

“It turned me on,” Jimin shrugged, though aware the younger man probably couldn’t see the gesture in the darkness. “I see it turned you on too, and that’s okay. I was hoping it would,” he added silkily.

“B-but--” the younger’s chest heaved, something in him still full of doubt but never pausing in his ministrations, like he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. Jimin had never seen someone so lost in their arousal before.

“But what?” Jimin pressed into the darkness, hoping his eyes would finally be able to make out the other’s features twisted into ones of pleasure, the desire that he had lit behind the younger's eyes burning from within but was still met with only shadows.

“You never, f-fuck --” His words sounded strangled, coming out between gasps and grunts, each syllable seemed strained, “never m-mess with --mmphf-- younger g-guys --”

Jimin felt a shiver of perspiration roll down his back, the sounds the younger was making caused goosebumps to erupt all over his arms. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so thoroughly affected by someone before. His body felt foreign to him, more curious, and titillated than he had ever been, and by an underclassman of all people. 

“True, but suddenly I kind of wanted to try something new,” Jimin said smoothly, his voice a low purr.

He didn’t know what was coming over himself, he never laid it on this thick. There was no need to seduce or turn on the charm for guys who were already begging for it.

The younger however seemed desperate and yet didn’t beg to be touched, did nothing to close the distance between them, only consumed by his own undeniable urges to satisfy himself. 

While it was true Jimin had no interest in messing with the younger guys at his school, this one, this lanky wide-eyed boy gripping himself in the dark, made Jimin’s mouth water with want and his pants feel tight and uncomfortable.

He could make an exception, this once.

Jimin stepped closer until he was nearly toe to toe with the younger, the powerful scent of vetiver seemed to be coming straight from the boy, waves of it hitting Jimin like a wall of rain after a drought, he wanted to drown in it.

“P-please, d-don’t I can’t stop it. It h-hurts,” the boy pleaded brokenly, a sniffle mixed with a whine, pressing back against the wall as if it would gain him distance in the tightly confined space.

“Then let me help take the pain away,” Jimin cajoled, his hand reaching out without thought to halt the furious movements of the other’s tightly clenched fist. 

The moment Jimin’s fingers pressed over the other’s wrist, the boy shuddered visibly. Jimin noticed how he trembled, his skin feverish to the touch, but he stilled his movements, the pain of doing so seemed palpable. 

“I’ll make it better, I promise, just let me help,” Jimin whispered into the shadows, he tugged against the wrist held in his cool fingers gently until he felt the vice grip loosen and give way.

“Please,” the boy whispered, the sound so anguished and deliciously filled with desire that Jimin nearly released a whimper of his own. 

Jimin couldn’t see what he was working with but the darkness seemed to add an element of intrigue to the whole thing. He held the boy’s wrist as he slid to his knees and moved the boy’s hand to the back of his head to give him the reins.

The younger let out a sharp gasp and reflexively tightened his fingers in Jimin’s hair but made no move to bring them closer.

“It’s okay, take what you need,” Jimin encouraged, the proposition for once something Jimin genuinely meant, his eyes falling closed as he waited for the other to make his next move.

From between the boy’s legs, he could feel the striking heat of his body, and the scent of his wet cock seemed to be dripping pure vetiver from the tip, stronger than ever. Jimin’s mouth filled with saliva at the idea of what he might taste like. The taste of cock was one Jimin was well acclimated to, but never had he been presented with one that seemed drenched in such an invigorating scent. 

The human body was meant to blast pheromones out of every pore, especially during the most hormonal teen years, but never had Jimin managed to find a boy who smelled like much more than soap and sweat, there was nothing particularly bad about that. The natural scent of cock had its own earthy musk you could appreciate if you liked that kind of thing. However, Jimin had not once encountered someone who intimately smelled of fresh grass, warm earth, vibrant green forests, and all things that made Jimin think of sunshine and dew drops on flowers. 

This boy was something special. 

There was a strained moment of time that seemed to stretch into minutes though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds where Jimin waited and nothing happened. Until he felt the fingers in his hair twitch, Jimin could almost sense the debate going on in the other’s head, the one between pulling him in or pushing him away. 

The twitch turned to a pull, slow, incrementally, experimentally, with shaking fingers until his head was guided forward. Only a moment left to wait now, he could practically taste him already, Jimin shivered.

The first touch against his lips wasn’t his cock, but the boy’s hot fingers, brushing against Jimin’s dry lips. Jimin’s tongue instinctively darted out to wet them, they smoothed over the damp flesh again almost reverently. Even while his touch seemed tentative and calculated, the boy’s chest still heaved heavily as if the strain from taking even these few moments caused him great pain. 

Jimin obediently opened his mouth, the younger’s fingers falling just inside, an invitation that couldn’t be mistaken.

Blistering hot, molten heat kissed his lips. Wet, juicy and burning as the head of the cock finally made contact. The underclassman instantly hissed sharply as the sensation swallowed them both up. 

Not to sound dramatic, but Jimin thought he died and went to Heaven. 

His cock was thick, shockingly so, the tip fat and blunt and hard. He was dripping wet too, precum seemed to pulse from him in a steady stream, Jimin had a hard time keeping it all in his mouth. And that was just the thing, he wanted to keep it all in his mouth because the taste of him… it was like a drug.

His own personal drug, dripping like a faucet into his mouth and flooding Jimin with the most blissful high.

He dove onto the cock at the first taste with an audible moan, taking him deep and hard to drive every last drop of it from within. The boy convulsed, his body contorting with the intense sensation as Jimin ravenously sucked his length with an enthusiasm he had never found in himself before. 

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds but the boy was already cumming, rivulets of hot cum burst across Jimin’s tongue, flooding his mouth with the delicious taste of his sex. Jimin greedily swallowed and swallowed as more and more flowed freely, the younger shuddering and jerking with each pulse, a deep groan rumbling in his chest of barely contained relief. 

Jimin felt euphoric, the flood of arousal thrumming in his veins going straight to his own cock, only distantly realizing he had cum in his pants at some point, just from the taste of the younger alone. 

The boy still kept cumming, and Jimin kept drinking it down, the ordeal lasting longer than the actual blow job itself. The boy rubbed his cockhead against Jimin’s tongue, still hard, still flooding Jimin’s mouth with long spurts of his cum until it overflowed from Jimin’s mouth, struggling to take it all. 

When the shuddering subsided, the cock still oozed, poised at Jimin’s lips while Jimin struggled to catch his breath. The younger kept rubbing the tip needily against his mouth as if asking for more, fisting himself again with another frustrated groan. 

“Again?” Jimin asked, bewildered but not unwilling, he had never seen someone fail to go soft in between orgasms. 

“Ugh, please, it won’t fucking go away. Hurts so bad . I just n-need, mphf, ahh, need--”

“Need what, baby?” The endearment fell from his lips easily, without thinking. Jimin rubbed the flesh of the younger’s thigh.

“Ugh, I-I don’t know!” He grit out, rolling his head back against the wall, frustration at the forefront of his emotions. Jimin could tell there was something he wanted to say, but he was just too afraid to ask.

“Tell me, I’ll give it.” He meant what he said, for some reason nothing felt off the table for him.

“Need more, need you,” he whimpered quietly, the last part left up to Jimin’s interpretation.

“Have me, I’m right here.” Jimin’s hands slid back up the younger’s thigh, gripping at his hips before placing a kiss to the tip of his wetness, soft and tender.

“Need all of you,” the younger emphasized, pressing himself against Jimin’s lips until he was taking him back into his mouth.

“I’m yours, take it all,” Jimin promised between languidly teasing the hard length with his tongue. 

“R-really?” The sound was more gasp than words, exhaled with a sharp sound as he quickly lost himself to the sensation Jimin was providing. 

“Mmhm, all for you.” Jimin managed after a particularly deep suck that had the younger tensing his whole body beneath his fingers. 

“You’d let me… have you? Like… that?” His words were quiet and breathy, near delirious musings that Jimin refused to deny the boy. It didn’t matter if the younger didn’t mean the things he was saying, Jimin wasn’t lying when he gave his response.

“I’d give you anything you want from me.”

He spilled suddenly against his lips with a guttural groan, Jimin wasting no time to drink down the last bits, licking over his lips and peering up at the murky shadow of a face he knew was as fucked out as he was.

This time the younger didn’t postulate or dance around his needs, losing himself to the burning arousal that consumed him. He pushed his still hard length back into Jimin’s mouth and took all that Jimin had offered, giving himself over easily and happily to the younger that tasted like salvation. 

“Wanna feel you, inside,” he mused after a little while, his voice thick and saturated with unbridled arousal.

“You wanna fuck me?” Jimin asked breathlessly, pulling back long enough to ask, giving kittenish licks to the sensitive underside of his cock while the younger struggled to respond.

“Mmph, y-yeah,” he said eventually, his voice was so raspy he almost sounded like another person entirely, clearly getting close again to cumming. 

“I’d like that, with you.” Jimin responded softly, feeling his own wet cock twitch in his pants at the thought. 

That was new. 

“Fuck, please say that again,” the junior begged, his hips following Jimin’s mouth, aiding in taking the younger deeply before pulling back and rubbing the head of his dick against Jimin’s lips as if to prompt the reply he was looking for. 

“That I’d like you to fuck me?” He mouthed around the slit, dipping his tongue into it as he spoke, teasing him. 

“Mmm, yeah.” The younger’s grip in Jimin’s hair kept flexing and unflexing, going rigid one second and laxing the next, he was near the edge for sure, just a little push and he’d fall. 

“I want you, I wish you’d fuck me. Never let anyone else before. Want you to be my first,” Jimin blurted, stroking his cock against his mouth, working up the shaft with quick movements made easier from how wet he was.

“R-really?” his voice was getting pitchier, breathing faster, hands gripping harder.

“Yeah.” Jimin moved his hand faster, licking the tip every few seconds to collect the bead of precum as it developed.

“Fuck, Jimin-ssi, I want that. I want to be your first.” The younger was speaking quickly, so lost in pleasure he probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“You can.” Jimin promised anyway.

“I wanna be your only.” He growled, adamantly, fucking into Jimin’s fist with renewed vigor. 

“Yes, please, I want to only be yours.” Jimin kissed the tip of his cock and promised the younger boy the world, wanting nothing more than the words to be more than horny bullshit, even if he knew better. 

“You’ll be mine? Promise?” He cupped Jimin’s cheeks, likely trying to look into Jimin’s eyes even if it was too dark to see them, Jimin tried to find his gaze anyway.

“Yes, baby, just yours. Only yours.” Jimin could suddenly feel the younger’s cock beginning to bulge at the base, larger than it had been even moments before, Jimin put pressure on it just to hear the other moan in approval.

“F-fuck, yes. Say it again,” he sounded so out of it, fucking into Jimin’s hands as hard as he could manage.

“I’m yours, baby,” Jimin swore again, as the younger’s bulging length swelled even more forcing Jimin to wrap both hands around it as he took the younger back into his mouth to finish him off. 

“Mmm, fuck, mine, you’re all mine,” he cried out as he came, his swollen length throbbing and jerking inbetween Jimin’s lips, catching each hot pulse at the back of his throat, not wanting to waste a drop. 

Not even 5 minutes later the younger was tucking himself into his pants, muttering his excuse to leave and bolting yet again from the room like Jimin hadn’t just sucked his cock for the last hour straight. 

It hurt. 

More than he cared to admit, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t used to being discarded like trash. But at least with others Jimin didn’t care, he didn’t feel a damn thing, so used to the whole procedure. 

It wasn’t like that this time, he didn’t even have a minute to think rationally before he was already letting himself be vulnerable and now he was wounded. He was feeling things for the younger boy that he had not anticipated, promised him and wanted things he never knew he would want with anyone and now it was all fucked up.

And he didn’t even know his name. 

He never ended up seeing him again either.

Not for lack of trying, though. 

Jimin stalked the Fine Arts class every day for the rest of the week, desperate for a chance to see him. 

To get another look, another taste, his mind on a constant loop, thoughts drowned out by the singular notion of the other boy. 

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the younger one in the bathroom, except in this context it was no longer while being watched from a distance. In his new memories, he tried to put together the images of what his face would have looked like in the closet if only he could have made out his features then.

The most vivid parts of this scenario were the way his eyes never looked away from Jimin’s as he peered up at him through dark lashes, the bottomless depth of his rich brown eyes always locked on Jimin beneath him, telling him everything he couldn’t say in words.

He salivated every time he thought of the younger’s taste in his mouth, heavy on his tongue in the way no teen should have rightfully been. 

Jimin had swallowed his cum, fuck he practically drank it, a totally out-of-character move for him, but he couldn’t help himself. It was hard to describe, the taste of him, but Jimin tried his best to sort it out after the fact.

It was the only time in his life he hadn’t been utterly disgusted by the milky fluid. The most interesting part was that it still tasted like, well, cum. 

But better. 

Not just better, fucking amazing. 

Instead of bitter, it was sweet, instead of salty, it was well balanced, it tasted like everything he had ever wanted, craved, and was missing until now. It was somehow all-consuming. The missing piece that had been lacking from his plethora of sexual experiences until that point. 

It set his arousal on literal fire.

Just his taste had him cumming untouched in his pants, ravenous like a starved man, hornier than a bitch in heat. It made no sense, and yet perfect sense at the same time. A total conundrum that Jimin lost sleep trying to understand.

If Jimin had felt empty inside before, it had nothing on how he felt after experiencing the unfettered fulfillment that came from being with the mysterious underclassman and knowing he’d likely never experience it again.

The boy never showed his face in class again after that day.

Jimin was sure of it, he had practically camped outside the classroom for the rest of the week just in case.

There was always the off chance that the hall pass hadn’t been issued to the underclassman and it had just been a coincidence that he managed to find him in the closet that day, and he had wasted his time but it was the only clue he had to go off of.

But it proved to be fruitless.

When Jimin graduated, and the chapter of his high school days came to an end, he found himself for the first time wishing he had a little more time there, maybe he’d have run into him eventually. Or even somewhere in the streets of Busan, in a meet-cute at a coffee shop or some equally mundane setting where he’d lock eyes with the younger again and then… Who knows?

What he would have done if he had been actually reunited with the younger, he had no clue. He could never get his brain to think that far ahead, he just knew he needed to see him and the rest was a blur of erotic whimsy and wishful thinking.

Jimin had never had a crush before, and he wasn’t altogether certain that what he was feeling right now qualified as such, but more than the taste, more than the scent, more than the arousal he experienced, Jimin wanted him.

Maybe it was poetic justice linked to the fact that he knew he couldn’t have him, some kind of twisted punishment for never giving in to the concept of dating or reciprocating another's romantic gestures. Always desirable but unlovable, easy yet untouchable, except for in those brief encounters, a fleeting moment. Perhaps now, the object of his desires was always destined to be just as untouchable, unreachable, and entirely anonymous.

Jimin was leaving Busan, and hopefully never coming back, but now there was a pit in his stomach at the thought of leaving, of graduating, of never seeing those wide eyes again.

All that he had to remember him by was a painful aching feeling, and for once Jimin wished to be just an empty void again because this shit sucked.

~*~💋~*~

The first few months of his post-high school life were not great, understatement of the year but whatever. 

Jimin had chalked up the whole thing to his first crush disappearing without having a clue who he was. After all, catching feelings was something Jimin never intended to do. That, and having to move to the city of Seoul and prepare to start a whole new life at Hankuk University also fed into the overall misery he was feeling. 

He had been under the impression that leaving Busan behind was going to be amazing. Instead, he was just as miserable as ever. Unable to enjoy the newness and freedom that came with finally being an adult and on his own.

That feeling only deepened and grew as time went on. 

It was confusing, everything he had ever read always said stuff like this dulled with time, it wasn’t supposed to get worse.

Instead, it did. X1000. 

Each month the pain and misery magnified, the need to satisfy a craving for someone that was impossible to find multiplied and grew more and more impossible to ignore.

His life at college was supposed to be a chance to change, grow, mature, and experience new things and people. Become more than just the hot twink who had a bad reputation and a deep throat. 

Instead, Jimin found himself diving head-first into old habits, with a fiery vengeance. Driven by an unquenchable thirst that only got worse with each passing day.

It’s how he realized the younger had ruined him. The dots weren’t hard to connect when he thought about the catalyst of his insatiable desire. Because whatever he had been feeling before meeting the mystery underclassman, whatever his reasoning was for being a cock hungry slut, they were childish and unimportant now.

Jimin never really understood addiction before then, not really. 

He had read about it, knew the concepts of it, and thought he might even have an addiction of his own in randomly sucking dick just to get through his most emo high school years, but never had his abstract idea of it come close to the true meaning.

Now, in his final year in college, Jimin knew addiction intimately.

It was ugly. Painful. Embarrassing. Debilitating. Shameful.

All the things he should have felt years ago when he flounced through his high school not giving a single shit about his awful reputation, acting like he had no control over his obscene urges to blow every guy who dropped his pants in his presence.

Jimin wanted to kick himself for the way he was in high school, so young and utterly clueless about what it truly meant to have a craving you can’t satisfy. An urge so intense it would drive you to do the most depraved things imaginable just for the possibility it might scratch the impossible itch under your skin. 

He knew that because he had done it. Hundreds of times in the past 3 years. 

Hundreds.

Because Jimin was fully and completely addicted to cum. 

It sounded ridiculous, especially considering Jimin fucking hated the taste of cum. But ever since that fateful day, Jimin’s craving had evolved into a vicious beast that would never remain caged for long.

It didn’t matter that he hated the taste, he still craved it like the air he breathed. He still squirmed in his seat during every lecture and class, barely getting through it without his vivid imagination running wild with the picture of the hot viscous fluid splashing across his tongue. 

Somehow, by the grace of god or some random deity, Jimin managed to keep his grades up, even when it was brutally painful to concentrate, to ignore the churning in his stomach, the burning itch under his skin that never went away no matter how often he got a fix. 

In a pinch, Jimin would run to the bathrooms during classes and jerk off in the stall, cumming into his own hand just to lick it from his palm. 

At least his cum didn’t taste nearly as revolting as the rest of the men he engaged with, still it only reduced his needs temporarily, insufficiently sating himself long enough to make it through the rest of the day.

Jimin had tried more than a few times to see how long he could go without getting a fix. He made it 2 weeks once but the inferno of desire that rippled through him left him nearly bedridden and unable to even attend classes. By the time he broke down and called over a hookup, he was practically tearing the other’s clothes off like a feral animal. 

He couldn’t stop himself.

But it was hard, so fucking hard. 

His life was abject misery in between empty sexual favors but still, he plowed on, clinging to some insane notion that maybe someday he’d finally find himself between the thighs of someone who could satisfy his craving fully. 

Jimin had at the very, very, least gotten smarter about how to go about his blowjob hookups. In the past, he had relied on Grindr, Tinder, and even in moments of desperation, Backpages and Craigslist, but it had been dangerous. 

He had gotten himself into more than a few bad situations, had his share of stalkers and close calls. He wasn’t proud to admit he had contracted a plethora of, thankfully, curable STDs over the years, yet had somehow managed to avoid being assaulted or getting something that would leave him with more than a script for antibiotics and a withering look from his doctor.

Jimin had committed himself to being safer after his best friend, Taehyung, tearfully begged him to take better care of himself. Taehyung was the only light in his dark, meeting as freshmen and becoming fast friends, eventual roommates, confidants, and honest-to-goodness platonic soulmates. He was the only person Jimin could confide in, knew he wouldn’t be judged by, and convinced him that he was loved. It was enough to make him attempt to do better for himself. He persuaded Jimin to always ask for std test results, make sure to always text him his location, don’t take people back to his apartment, and never use dangerous websites and apps again.

It didn’t leave Jimin with many options but he knew he couldn’t go on like this anyway. It was only a matter of time before something awful happened, and even if he didn’t give enough of shit about himself, he didn’t want to break his friend's heart. 

It was Junior year when Jimin discovered his saving grace. 

Seven.

It was a sex club, boasting a members-only, STD-free hookup experience for gay men. All members were subject to frequent testing to maintain their membership and were encouraged to not engage in unsafe sexual activity outside of the club. They were open ‘Seven’ days a week, with a different themed event for each night. 

Saturdays were Jimin’s holy grail. 

Because on Saturdays, the theme was glory holes.

Saturdays offered Jimin endless anonymous supplies of hookups where he wasn’t in danger of being assaulted, catching anything unsavory, or risking his hanging-by-a-thread reputation at school. 

This was the only way he could get his fix without ruining his life.

So for 6 days a week, Jimin managed to make due and one glorious night a week he would make up for all that he had been missing out on days prior.

Typically, the rooms were considered first come first served, vacated after use, and reopened after cleaning, but Jimin was a special case. In the beginning, Jimin had to be lucky to get one of the limited available rooms, but soon he became the talk of the club, even without anyone having a clue who he was. Before long, he was offered a standing appointment in room 13 by the owner of the club, an eccentric gay named Seokjin who was one of the few people Jimin could call a friend these days. 

13 was Jimin’s lucky number, and even when he didn’t feel lucky most days, he knew it had been sheer luck alone that he had found something that worked well enough to get him by without selling himself on a street corner or sulking around dirty bars at all hours all while providing him merciful anonymity to maintain his precariously balanced reputation.

The club allowed him some semblance of a life outside his addiction, giving him the illusion of a life beyond his thirst, and it was something he was endlessly grateful for. 

The club scene worked for him, thankfully, and Jimin became something of a celebrity in the sex club circles, accounting for a huge influx of new memberships as word spread in the community about the pillow lips that would suck you like a straw in room number 13 every Saturday.

The club had this fun little feature to give the club patrons a small clue about who was occupying each room on Saturday. While still entirely anonymous, there was a little pinned picture on the other side of the glory hole with the occupants' do's and don’ts for the evening. 

Jimin’s picture featured him from his fine collar bones up, a close-up shot of cum dripping from his plush lips, and cropped appropriately to obscure his identity. 

His do’s and don’t were the same each week; things he was willing to do, and things he wasn’t, and general etiquette for whomever ventured in. 

Things he would never do included having actual sex, which was not up for discussion. Because Jimin was, if you could believe it, still a virgin. He was interested in only one thing and one thing only, he didn’t have any urge to change that any time soon.

He was willing to do anything oral beyond piss play and appreciated it if the receivers didn’t attempt to talk to him or try to peek through the glory hole. He wore a mask just in case, but it was still annoying to see a guy peeking through like a whole-ass weirdo.

The talking bit was always something that they tended to ignore, always begging to hear his voice, asking him if they could have his number, his name, anything. It happened enough that Jimin learned way more than he should have about some of his regulars.

It was supposed to be anonymous but the guys who frequented his room still deluded themselves into falling for the mysterious owner of the plush lips on the other side of the wall. Their love confessions and penchant for oversharing were how he realized he had sucked off at least 4 guys he had classes with in uni, a guy who owned a restaurant Jimin used to frequent, and one of his former dental hygienists. 

They all seemed to be unaware, but it hit close to home enough that Jimin had to tell Seokjin to bar a few of the guys who just couldn’t keep their pie holes shut. 

He may not have wanted to entertain conversation, but Jimin certainly didn’t mind hearing them moan. That was listed on Jimin’s Do’s list. 

DO: Enjoy yourself, and let me hear how it makes you feel.

DON’T: Expect a response, my mouth is a bit busy anyway ;)

Jimin had learned over the years, he did, in fact, have a praise kink and if there was any semblance of enjoyment to be had in his addiction, it was in hearing how well he could suck someone off. 

He could practically hear it now, the memories of his pleased patrons were never far from his mind. But wasn’t Saturday yet, so he suffered the time away as most college students did, by doing mundane tedious homework. 

Buzzy and irritating need was already thrumming under his skin as he clicked and double clicked at his trackpad, laptop glow lighting up Jimin’s already pink cheeks while he blinked hard at the screen, mind in a fog, attempting with much effort to finish his allotted assignments to ensure he wouldn’t fall behind by fucking off on Saturday.

It was Friday, already almost the weekend, and his brain was mush at this point. The concentration required to do school work was long gone by now as usual. He was almost done, just a little longer before he could let the rising tide take over his last braincells and he wouldn’t need to try so fucking hard to concentrate.

He could hear Taehyung in their living room, being a couch goblin watching netflix. A little jealousy flared up inside him. He wanted nothing more than the simplicity that came so easily to his friend, to be able to spend his evenings without feeling like he had to fight for every second of normalcy. The ability to let go, even just a little, to crash on the couch and ignore his assignments or cravings and just eat chips, vegatate and watch mindless tv with his friend, seemed like a pipedream.

Taehyung snorted, loud and unattractively in the other room, an episode of some anime playing in the background. Jimin turned his warm cheeks towards the sound with a small smile, endeared. 

At least someone was having a good time.

Jimin found himself getting antsy the closer Saturday came each week, the clock ticking down the moments until he could finally take the edge off.

Jimin was so consumed by his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Tae had come up behind him as his eyes glazed over, the words beginning to blur on the word document he had pulled up. His friends long warm fingers finding their way into the hair on the nape of his neck, massaging the skin with gentle affectionate care. He didn’t say anything, already well aware of what had Jimin stressed and out of it. 

Jimin let out a tired groan, his head rolling forward as Taehyung worked the knots of his tension away. 

“That feels so good, fuck.” His words practically a slur as his eyes fell closed and he melted under his friend’s skilled fingers.

Taehyung smirked and hummed in acknowledgement, “I’m good with my hands, what can I say?”

“Massage my shoulders next and I’ll suck your dick,” Jimin whined, entirely joking of course -- not that he hadn’t been tempted. 

Taehyung was hot as fuck; tall, toned without being overly muscular, dark brown curly hair, sensual eyes, wide smile that lit up a room and a personality to match the whole thing. If Jimin didn’t desperately love the other and never wanted to risk their friendship, he’d have given him a blowjob of a lifetime by now.

“If I ever need my dick sucked by someone I think of like a sibling, I’ll let you know,” he chuckled with a firm squeeze to Jimin’s neck for emphasis.

“But I’d be so good for you, baby,” Jimin mock-purred, wiggling in his seat to get Taehyung to massage harder.

“Make me kimchi fried rice for dinner instead and save your strength for tomorrow, lord knows you’ll need it.” Taehyung slid his large palms over Jimin’s hunched shoulders pressing deeply into the muscle with his thumbs.

“Fine,” Jimin grumbled before hanging his head and letting out a deep contented sigh. “You’re missing out though.”

“Yah! Stop trying to get in my pants, you know I’m saving myself for someone special!” Tae pinched Jimin’s shoulders indignantly.

“Ow, you brat, you fucked like 6 people last semester alone!”

“That was before I met my future husband, I’m regrowing my virginity for him. I’ll be pure as the virgin Mary by the time I finally lock him down,” Tae said with utmost seriousness, the ridiculousness of it all making Jimin bark out a laugh.

“Sure, Tae, if you can regrow your virginity after your body count maybe there’s hope for me yet.” Jimin scoffed gently, not trying to mock Taehyung but feeling more than a little sorry for himself.

“There’s always hope for you my sweet Chimchim, now shush and finish your homework,” Tae said sweetly, taking no offense to Jimin’s jab, planting a quick kiss to Jimin’s head and continuing to work out the knots of his shoulders. 

Jimin used the touch as the distraction he needed to finally finish his work.

Tae was truly heaven sent, the best friend anyone could ask for, let alone someone as messed up as Jimin was. He didn’t know how he would have survived the last few years without him. Jimin appreciated his loving friend more than he could ever explain, grateful for his constant support, and understanding. 

He soaked up Tae’s affection greedily, letting the touch of another soothe him in a way that he rarely allowed, otherwise incredibly touch starved. Tae had been his only source of comfort and saving grace in his fucked up life.

It helped that they were purely platonic. Jimin couldn’t imagine trying to actually date someone with how he was anyway. Knowing that there was nothing more between them than genuine love with no ulterior motive allowed him to be vulnerable and open. No secrets were held between the two soulmates, no judgment, just a pure hearted connection. It soothed a craving that Jimin couldn't have elsewhere.

When his assignments were finally mercifully finished, Jimin sent Tae back to the couch while he made good on his promise to cook them dinner. 

After their meal, Tae offered Jimin his lap and wrapped his arms like a warm blanket around the smaller. Jimin made himself comfortable, wriggling and burrowing against the other while Tae complained that Jimin was squishing him, but he had offered to cuddle so it was his own problem now. 

Jimin exhaled a week’s worth of stress out against the nape of Taehyung’s neck, feeling a sweet peck on his head. Jimin relished the affection, letting his tension and addiction be placated even if only a little by it. 

He fell asleep like that, securely snuggled while Attack on Titan played in the background, soothed by the rise and fall of his friend’s chest as he breathed. 

~*~💋~*~

At some point, Taehyung had taken Jimin to bed and slept curled against his side, something that happened occasionally and Jimin didn’t mind it, except for when he needed to peel the koala that was Taehyung off his body in the morning to get up.

His usual routine on a Saturday always began with a very cold shower, like it could somehow soothe the burning in his throat. His appetite was always zero by the time d-day rolled around but he forced himself to eat some toast, or otherwise he knew Taehyung would nag him.

He always cleared his schedule by the weekend, doing as much work as possible for school before the weekend hit, and saving anything he couldn’t cram into the days prior for Sunday. 

Saturday had only one purpose.

He used to take a dance class on Saturdays with his and Tae’s mutual friend Hoseok, but now that he wasn’t getting as frequent doses of his fix, anything that required more than 2 braincells worth of focus wasn’t feasible.

Tae groggily stumbled out of Jimin’s bedroom, scratching his wild hair and frowned at Jimin’s ‘breakfast.’

“Toast, Jiminie?”

So much for not being nagged, Jimin grimaced at his plate.

“What, it’s food isn’t it?”

Taehyung wordlessly rummaged through the fridge and pulled out a few things, whipping up a small breakfast and sliding a bowl towards Jimin who was still working on his miserable toast.

It was just a small portion of leftover kimchi fried rice topped with a fried egg but Jimin’s stomach churned at the sight.

“C’mon, you need protein in your diet, toast is barely food.”

“I’ll get all the protein I need later tonight, Taetae.” Jimin knew he was being gross, and Taehyung gagged appropriately.

“God  please shut up and eat your food. Cum is not a source of sustenance no matter what weird shit you’ve looked up on Naver.”

Jimin laughed, Taehyung knew him too well because of course he had looked it up.

“Like you wouldn’t guzzle Namjoon’s jizz like it was your last meal if you had the chance!”

Namjoon was the guy that Tae had been crushing on in his English Literature class and at first glance he was a goner. Studious soft poet types were Taehyung's bread and butter. 

“You make a good point,” Taehyung conceded with a nod, not even about to deny how kinky and depraved he was willing to get for the sake of his crush.

Tae and Namjoon had been tip-toeing around something for a while, and yet they hadn’t managed more than brushing finger tips and blushing eye smiles at each other while pouring over books together at the library. They were cute, but something had to give sooner or later, two ‘virgins’ in one apartment was one too many. 

Jimin pushed the food around his bowl with a pair of chopsticks, poking a hole in his egg yolk and watching it spill over the rice beneath. Jimin gulped, a hard lump forming in his throat as he imagined the warm viscous fluid as something else entirely. He tore his eyes up from it hoping Taehyung wouldn’t notice how pink his cheeks were. 

“Uh, so what’s your plans for today?” 

“Lunch with Hoseok, and then I was probably going to stalk the library until Namjoon inevitably shows up. I’ll casually bump into him with a copy of Wuthering Heights clasped in my hands, stumble and drop it. We’ll reach for it at the same time and he’ll get all cute and red when our heads bump and hands touch. Next thing you know I’ll be bent over a table getting fucked within an inch of my life while the Librarian flicks her bean to the majestic sight of our union.”

“Wow, that’s… wow.”

“I know,” Taehyung sighed dreamily. “The perfect Saturday.”

“Okay, but what if instead of scarring the librarian for life, you just ask him out? You already have his number and it’s obvious he is crushing on you too.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Joonie is just so cute and shy, I love seeing him blush and stutter every time I bump into him. I think he just needs a little more time to build up to it. If he doesn’t ask me out eventually then it’s probably just not meant to be. I have patience, good things come to those who wait and all that, right?”

Jimin nodded and gave Tae a tight smile, wishing him the best of luck and retreated to his bedroom, where he would kill time by catching up on the sleep he was always short of and trying not to think about later that night. But in truth, Saturdays were restless for another reason. 

As usual, he was at the precipice of sleep, curled up under his covers before he’d picture wide bottomless eyes and feel the ghost of fingertips in his hair gripping tightly.

This always tended to happen on Saturdays, the image of the younger boy from his past on his mind in ways he tended to avoid most days. 

He wondered helplessly what the younger was up to, if he was in college now too somewhere in Busan, maybe even in Seoul, or somewhere internationally thousands of miles from him. It didn’t matter if he was close or far, because it still felt like he was a ghost with no name. 

Jimin still remembered how he’d eyeball the newest batch of freshmen, even going so far as to volunteer at orientations just so he could be sure the younger wasn’t amongst them. 

3 years worth of freshman and no such luck.

It was a total shot in the dark that the other would have ended up at his school anyway, there were a lot of great universities in South Korea to choose from, if he even ended up at uni at all. Jimin knew literally nothing about him, besides the exact way he tasted and smelled which wasn't exactly listed in the student directory.

It could have been so much easier had he made a single friend from his school in Busan to ask about his mystery boy but Jimin was so anxious to move away he never made any. He didn't even have a yearbook, never bothering to order them because he never wanted to see anyone's face again. By the time he did, it was already too late. 

He pondered over what he looked like now, if he thought of Jimin, or if he had completely forgotten that he existed. Always ruminating on every facet of detail he could remember of the other. Torturing himself until he could no longer ignore the hard on he sported from remembering their encounter. 

Like every other Saturday, when sleep evaded him while thinking of the other, Jimin jerked off and fell into a restless sleep.

~*~🐺~*~

Jeongguk didn’t even remember the name of the girl he was fucking. 

Tinder did it’s job though, and after about 5 minutes of smooth talking she was already in his lap grinding her pussy on his thigh. It was always easy, finding someone to hook up with. 

His profile screamed noncommittal fuckboy yet he still had an endless pile of guys and girls to choose from. He was never misleading about what he was looking for; meaningless one night stands, but maybe the profile picture of his defined chest, cut abs and full sleeve of tattoos helped.

She was like putty in his lap, her cunt leaving a damp spot on his thigh while she helped herself to the thick muscle she sat astride. He barely had to do a thing, just hold her hips and whisper encouragingly in her ear. They always loved his voice, deep, commanding, bossy -- for lack of a better word -- all alpha. 

There was something different about Jeongguk, that much people seemed to get on an instinctual level, and it certainly wasn’t his glowing personality that people were attracted to. If anything he was kind of an asshole, but dates even seemed to like that too. He used it to his advantage, and in this case to quickly get off and get this girl out of his apartment. 

He was already over it. 

She smelled strongly of cotton candy and it was kind of giving Jeongguk a headache with the overly saccharine notes of her scent, too sugary for his sensitive nose. 

He picked her up, the delighted squeal to his flippant show of strength resounded in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. He headed to his room and roughly tossed her on his bed. Before you could blink her panties were dropped carelessly on the floor, skirt hiked and showing off how embarrassingly wet he had made her by just existing. He didn’t bother to undress them further and pulled his thick cock out from his sweats.

“Get on your knees, wanna see your ass,” he ordered, stroking his cock to full hardness since she wasn’t really doing it for him otherwise. 

She was cute and had nice small tits but he was uninterested in anything but her wet hole if he was being honest, and he was always honest -- blunt, harsh even. He didn’t give half a shit about the usual preamble, making out, feeling her up, or making the experience any longer than it needed to be. The end was always the same anyways -- taking them roughly and harshly from behind with no preamble. 

He went a bit too hard, a bit too mean, even though she didn’t seem to mind from all the racket she was making. 

She came a few times on his cock during the whole ordeal, pussy clenching and pulsating around his length repeatedly before he was finally pulling out and ripping off the condom so he could cum across her face. Jerking himself frustratedly over her lips with his eyes tightly closed, pressing the wet tip to her lips so he could finally push himself over the top. Like every other time, it didn’t matter how hard he tried, or how long he went, he could never seem to cum unless it’s against someone's mouth while a reel of visceral memories flashed before his eyes on a loop.

Soft plump lips, crescent shaped eyes, cum dripping from his chin…

He was rude, and he knew it, he didn’t even ask her if she wanted cum splashed all over her face, yet somehow no matter how much of a dick he was they never complained. In this instance his date even seemed to delight in it, her pupils blown wide while she licked the remains of his release from her lips. 

“Mm, why do you taste so good?”  

“Uh, I eat a lot of pineapple,” he responded automatically, already tucking himself back into his pants with his back to her.

It’s something he heard often. A result of the incremental amount of mating hormones his alpha released during sex. An aphrodisiac of sorts that tended to make the participant more than a little hung up on the alpha. He knows it’s not much, it couldn’t be, not since his wolf seems to refuse to indulge in Jeongguk’s sexual encounters. It's always oddly silent in his head but especially when he’s having sex with someone, as if his alpha refused to be present. 

It’s why he can’t knot. His alpha is punishing him, he knows it. 

He hasn’t knotted since his first rut, the first time he ever had someone’s lips wrapped around his cock. Also, the first and last time he was with Jimin.

He was the whole reason why Jeongguk was fucking his way through half of Seoul, chasing a feeling he hasn’t had since their encounter, filling a void nothing but Jimin could fill. And it's why he’s currently kicking his hook up to the curb a record 28 minutes after meeting her, panties stuffed in her purse and pushed out the door with a droplet of his cum still glistening on her cheek. 

They just weren’t Park Jimin.

He was the guy Jeongguk had been obsessed with since he was 14 as a freshman at his high school. He was a little older by a year, and from the moment Jeongguk walked past the blonde, he was smitten. He was confident, aloof, and picturesque in a way Jeongguk had never seen someone be at such a young age but he seemed lonely. It didn’t seem like Jimin had friends, though he did have plenty of attention. It seemed like he couldn’t go unnoticed if he tried.

He only ever passed Jimin in the halls, or he watched him from a distance, but Jimin’s eyes never glanced his way, he never glanced anyone’s way. Totally untouchable. 

Or so Jeongguk had thought.

In junior year when he first saw Jimin’s name written across one of the bathroom stalls he practically saw red. 

Park Jimin loves to suck cock.  

It was crude and couldn’t be true, probably written out of spite by a jealous asshole that was rejected by the studious blonde. Only it didn’t stop there, more and more whispers and rumors began to circulate, each one more descriptive than the last. Still, Jeongguk refused to believe them. The senior was smart, gorgeous, had excellent grades and a sparkling image, the two halves didn’t seem to add up. His classmates all shared the gossip, but lamented the one fact they all seemed to agree on, he never bothered with underclassmen. 

It was kind of amazing that Jeongguk could simultaneously be incensed and also jealous of a simple dirty rumor because now Jeongguk knew for sure that he never had a chance with him. That was something that was true in either scenario. Just as widely known as Jimin’s supposed penchant for sucking off the entire senior class was that he also did not date. 

The rumors escalated to epic proportions, and it didn’t seem like Jimin was fazed by the talk at all. It made Jeongguk admire him all the more. He could keep his head held high and continue to ignore all the nonsense, so Jeongguk did too.

Until the day that Jeongguk witnessed Jimin being dragged past his Fine Art classroom roughly by a douche of a senior, Yeon Baeknam. 

Jeongguk immediately procured a hall pass from his teacher for the bathroom, who wasn’t all too happy considering class had literally just started, just in time to see the two disappear into the restroom at the end of the corridor.

He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to trail after them, but Jimin looked not entirely pleased at being dragged in the opposite direction of his class which Jeongguk knew was at the other end of the wing. Yeah, he knew his schedule, he had a high school crush! It was no big deal…

Without thinking he stood outside the door for a moment, unsure of what he would do when he walked inside, listening in case there was a chance Jimin was upset or being dragged inside unwillingly. But Jeongguk heard nothing unusual. His curiosity piqued, he quietly entered the bathroom only to stumble upon something he honestly had never expected to see in his life, his dirtiest late night fantasies come to life, though it wasn’t quite the same image.

There was no question, Jimin was sucking off the pushy senior, the stall door halfway open, revealing his blond hair rapidly bobbing against Baeknam’s groin, his hand pushing Jimin into his crotch with fervor. 

Jeongguk froze like he was made of stone. 

His heart was beating out of his chest, but he couldn’t find it in himself to move. He was trying to fight himself. His instincts told him to run from the room and the guilt of watching them do something so private was gurgling inside him but he remained locked in place. A thousand feelings seemed to wash over him, but one that seemed to light up like an inferno inside him was that it should have been him. It should have been Jeongguk with Jimin on his knees like that. 

The furious jealousy was making his skin hot and prickle uncomfortably, his hands clenched white knuckled at his side. He was almost tempted to rip the other guy out of the stall, but he couldn’t. Jimin didn’t fuck with younger guys, he obviously wanted to be here, or he wouldn’t be, right?

And then, as if purposely putting himself on display, Jimin repositioned himself so he was in Jeongguk’s line of sight, eyes closed sensually, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink that looked beautiful with his pale complexion, and then he locked eyes with the younger.

There wasn’t an ounce of surprise on Jimin’s face, but there was something else. His gaze was piercing, and he had Jeongguk in a chokehold, as if the hungry look in his eyes was for him and him alone. Suddenly, Jeongguk couldn’t see anything but Jimin, the douchebag senior wasn’t even in the room, it was just them. Even when Baeknam finally came across his lips, it was like they were sharing a private moment. 

Something unlocked deep inside Jeongguk then, his breathing was labored, his already flushed skin felt like it was on fire, the deep arousal Jimin had set off was too intense to ignore. It was painful in ways Jeongguk couldn’t describe, a gut wrenching need came over him, and he didn’t have the foggiest idea of what to do about it.

He bolted.

He had never run faster in his life, blindly, overheated, flustered beyond comprehension. The raging hard on he had made moving agony, with each rough drag of his underwear against his cock feeling like sandpaper against his sensitive skin. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t even sure he could make it to his house in such a state. The need to get off was powerful and terrifying all the same, he didn't understand what was happening with his own body, it was like it wasn’t even his anymore. 

He found the first closet that was unlocked and scrambled into the back of it, tearing at his pants until his weeping angry cock was finally free and immediately cried in relief, but it was only the briefest of reprieves. Even without something rubbing against his erection, it was still throbbing, aching, and impossibly hard. He was left with no other choice but to cum as fast as possible, unable to stop himself any longer. 

Embarrassment, shame and pure hunger ripped through his body. Trembling, he gripped himself, terrified someone would walk in at any moment. He bit his lips until it felt like he would bite through them and fucked into his hand. 

It hurt. It felt amazing. It was awful. 

The pleasure was overwhelming, each nerve in his skin felt exposed, buzzing with sensitivity. Though it seemed impossible to enjoy. The heights of his new found pleasure were marred by an insatiable need for more, like it was clawing its way out of him, carnal and feral. 

Jerking off wasn’t something he was new to, he was a hormonal teenager after all but this felt altogether different. The painful and persistent need to get off was stronger than anything he had ever experienced. His cock was an angry red and so hard he thought he could fuck through a wall. A constant yearning behind it demanded he bury himself in something tight, wet and hot, but every time he fucked into his fist, he saw Jimin behind his blurred vision. Jimin’s eye smiles, Jimin’s pillow lips, Jimin on his knees looking up at him through his lashes, Jimin with cum splashed across his chin, but now with the added visual from having seen it first hand.

They were the typical porno-esque fantasies of Jimin he had had a million times before, but there was something new and more visceral about them. For some reason, he pictured Jimin’s throat; the stark smooth expanse of his neck, arched and bared for him. He pictured him spread out on all fours with his ass raised high into the air, his hole wet and the look he sent him over his shoulder was expectant, he wanted to be taken, mounted like an animal. 

The image caused his breath to hiss out from between his tightly clenched jaw. Squeezing roughly where his cock painfully throbbed at the base, the pressure seemed like the only thing that managed to take the edge off the ferocity of his arousal, but it wasn’t enough.

He whimpered, biting harshly into his bottom lip to quell the miserable sounds that he couldn't contain to his throat. So overwhelmed, so sick with it all, he briefly wondered if he would die like this. A body found sometime later with his broken cock in his hand, covered in cum in a janitor's closet like some deranged pervert, it felt that dire. 

He felt the tears spill over his cheeks, pathetic streaks of embarrassment and frustration pouring out of him, sweat mixing with his tears until he couldn’t tell what was dripping from his face anymore. He knocked his head back against the shelves, fucking into his hand, practically out of his mind at this point. The vivid scenes his brain came up with both fueling and frustrating him at the same time, dangling something just out of his grasp, a peak he couldn’t climb past that made it all the more maddening. 

He teetered on the precipice of it, the unspoken thing he knew would fix him somehow. 

He needed to cum, that was clear, it was the only thing he knew for sure, but there was something else he needed, something beyond his comprehension, his mind still replaying the image of Jimin bent over, him mounting his supple ass and pressing himself into Jimin’s wet heat, but there was no indication of what came next. 

His brain just kept screaming JIMIN in capital letters and almost like in a foreign language he didn’t understand there was something else being hammered into his head, the desire to make him his , fully, whole heartedly. Not in a way he had ever really perceived before, something inside him wanted, no -- knew that Jimin was his. Irrational, angry, possessive thoughts he had never connected with before. 

Take him, breed him. 

He didn’t have the energy to unpack the concept, but the errant thought played on a loop, once thought it couldn’t be undone, and his whole body shuddered as he replayed it over and over. Breed him, fill him up, claim him, mark him. He tried to push the thoughts away but they were practically screaming out to not be ignored.

He had never known such possessiveness, but it couldn’t be helped, he was half out of his mind at this point. He was horrified by the feelings bursting from inside him, making him feel like he was completely out of his depth, out of his mind, another person clawing their way from under his skin as if it had been repressed too long and couldn’t hold back any longer. 

A sob escaped him, the person he thought he was seemingly beaten down and possessed by something new, something wild. That something bore down on him inside, punishingly, forcing him to give in. If he just gave up the fight, maybe it would stop.

He never even noticed the way the small closet had filled with an overwhelming scent, his distress pouring out of him violently like a typhoon, hot humid air, and the scent of vetiver laced with a thunderstorm. A powerful force of nature, dampening the air like he was the epicenter of a hurricane. 

His own personal scent.

Suddenly there was the turn of the knob at the door, soft but unmistakable. Jeongguk scrambled back, but there was nowhere to go. His broken plea fell on deaf ears as the door opened a crack, light filtering through the darkness. The shame and embarrassment were still second to the throbbing need, unable to force his hand away though he halted his feverish movements as the door opened enough for someone to slip inside.

Shame, shame, shame, shame, but also relief hit Jeongguk like a physical ton of bricks when his eyes registered the small blonde that was blinking in the shadows.

His wet cock still fisted as his brain cranked into high gear, he was here.  

Jimin was here.

A balm to an open wound, so close and yet so fucking far. 

Jimin didn’t run, and Jeongguk couldn’t stop, all he could manage was a broken cry and an apology as his fist resumed its purpose. 

The last thing he expected was for Jimin to try to talk to him. He was hardly coherent, but even as he attempted to explain himself, even after allowing Jimin to leave him there to probably die from whatever fucking sickness he was consumed with, there was no judgment on Jimin’s end. 

Instead, when Jimin sank to his knees, Jeongguk’s heart nearly burst. Trembling, he let Jimin soothe him, the sensation was euphoric, but emotionally it felt like he was being loved, cradled, he felt whole and complete. 

What his mind had been repeating over and over and over finally calming with Jimin taking him so ardently into his mouth. No words could succinctly convey the peace that he felt with Jimin wrapped around his aching length.

It took only moments for his initial release to spill in Jimin’s mouth but his cock was still fucking hard, still aching, he needed more.

Jimin let Jeongguk take and take, breathing sweet and filthy words between suckling his length. Feeding into every little delusion Jeongguk couldn’t help but utter, as if he knew exactly the things to say to soothe what demanded so much of him. 

In the back of his head he knew they were empty promises, he knew they couldn’t mean anything but he reveled in the way Jimin let him claim his mouth as his, over and over, load after aching load, the cum spilling over his lips and falling to the floor as Jimin struggled to take it all.

When Jimin swore to Jeongguk that he was his, something inside him exploded, the pressure around his cock increasing as if he might actually burst. He was swelling, like he had finally managed to break his dick properly from cumming so many times in a row but why did it feel so right? 

It was rapidly filling out at the base of his length until he was so swollen Jimin couldn’t do anything but wrap his small fists around the roughly baseball sized engorgement and squeeze. Even though he was positive there was something deeply wrong with his cock at this point, he couldn’t help but feel an intense amount of instinctual relief when it popped fully as if he had been trying to get to this point the entire time. 

That missing piece falling into place.

Jeongguk came like a freight train. Jimin’s fists kept the persistent pressure while Jeongguk spilled what felt like his entire soul from the end of his cock, but Jimin didn’t let up, drinking him down and holding onto him until Jeongguk was collapsing in a heap at the back of a dank closet. 

As if emerging from a fog, Jeongguk finally felt the haze lift from his mind. The clarity returning as his cock slipped from Jimin’s lips, twitching and swollen beyond anything, but finally Jeongguk felt like the ache was subsiding.

And with that clarity came the profound guilt.

Jeongguk weakly stumbled to his feet, drenched in sweat, and stuffed himself, still horrifically swollen into his pants and prayed he could make an escape. 

Whatever had happened, it couldn’t be real. Jimin couldn’t be his. He didn’t belong to anyone, least of all to Jeongguk. 

“I-I I’m sorry, I hafta… I need to go.” Jeongguk had stuttered, unable to explain himself, unable to even look at Jimin, his shame so deep he could cry.

Jeongguk didn’t wait for a reply, hoping against hope there was no one in the halls as he burst from the closet, the light nearly blinding him as raced out of the school. Running from it all until he was finally safely home, tucked into the stall of his shower and let himself cry it out until the water ran cold. 

He cried for a lot of things, not least of which was the fact that he had left Jimin covered in his cum like a used rag in a janitor's closet. Too ashamed and afraid of what he was feeling, all the things that Jimin couldn’t have meant that left him feeling so confused. 

He cried for the way even after the fever pitch of his painful arousal broke, he still couldn’t get rid of the strange voice in his head, feelings that stemmed from this newly awakened side of himself that he didn’t recognize even if it felt hauntingly familiar, all blunt and sharp edges, prodding and poking at the corners of his consciousness as if trying to take the forefront. 

He hated it. 

Why wouldn’t it go away?

He didn’t know how to grapple with the things it tried to compel him to do, barking orders at him like some military general trapped in his brain. 

Everything felt too bright, too loud, too sensitive. He was so overwhelmed and scared. At the very least his dick swelling had finally subsided, sore but somehow no worse for the wear. The cold stall of his shower was the only space he felt safe, devoid of sensation from the numbing way the cold water pelted his skin, not even aware of the way he shivered until his mother found him like that. 

Naked, freezing and shaking.

He growled at her. 

Her knocks on his bathroom door sent him spinning out again, and when he didn’t answer she burst through the door out of concern and the sound he emitted was wholly feral. He actually growled, like a cornered animal, the unfounded fear swelling up inside until the sound erupted from his chest, arms curled around his knees on the floor of the shower, teeth bared with a snarl. 

Rationally, somewhere inside he recognized that it was his mother, he knew he shouldn’t be scared, but his body and mind wouldn’t cooperate.

When her scent finally wafted through the humidity of the room, his newly heightened senses picked it out of the air, her scent was altogether new and familiar at the same time. 

That's when it finally hit him that she was no threat, he would be safe with her. 

“Eomma, I-I think something’s wrong with me,” Jeongguk had cried, teeth chattering, burying his face in his knees and sobbing yet again. She rushed for the knobs of the shower to stop the frigid spray and yanked a towel of the closet, wrapping Jeongguk in it like she used to when he was small, pulling him into the safety of her arms, hushing and comforting him in the way only a mother could. 

He didn’t go back to school. 

He couldn’t face Jimin.

He couldn’t, not like… this. 

He couldn’t face his friends, his teachers, the sounds, the scents, the newness of it all too terrifying in light of how he had changed.

And he had changed, alright.

Jeongguk grew even taller and filled out more in that summer after 11th grade than he had ever before. In just a few months he had gone from lanky and lean to tall and muscular without even trying, his body filling out in the chest and arms like he was made to pack on muscle. 

He felt faster, agile, strong, powerful, and also much more instinctual. He picked up on the scent of someone before he even saw them, recognizing and distinguishing scents became second nature. 

He was still battling internally with this new part of himself, fighting it for dominance, rejecting the odd compulsions it drove him to attempt, but sometimes they won out, like when it drove him to inexplicably rub himself on every pillow on their couch after his parents had unusual guests over one night that Jeongguk didn’t know, deeply uncomfortable with the way their bizarrely strong scents lingered on the fabric making him feel out of sorts and territorial in a way he had only felt before when he thought about Jimin, only content when his nose could no longer distinguish anything but his own scent on the pillows.

And his parents had been amazing about it all. Jeongguk was so lucky to have them, his stepdad and his mom full of understanding and patience with every new behavior even if they were wildly bewildered and unable to fully grasp exactly what was going on with him. 

They didn’t have answers for him, but his mother seemed to know that they wouldn’t find the changes Jeongguk was exhibiting in any normal textbooks on puberty. All she could tell Jeongguk was that it seemed like he was like his birth father, the guy who had knocked his mom up and taken off like a coward. 

Jeongguk had to admit that stung, to think she was comparing him to someone who had been nothing but a sperm donor, but she had been quick to clarify that his father was different too. She couldn’t explain herself better than that, the words for what exactly Jeongguk was and what was happening were simply beyond their world of knowledge but the transition was at least made mildly easier by their lack of judgment. His mother looked for answers as discreetly as she could online, searching for his father for the first time since he had left her pregnant and alone 17 years ago.

That was how she had found his father’s former pack.

His fucking pack, like he was some kind of animal.

And he was, kind of. Not entirely animal but not entirely human either.

A hybrid of the two. 

The closest thing he could compare it to was something like the fictional concepts of werewolves. But they weren’t fiction, not completely. 

It wasn’t like the stories he had heard, beasts that were controlled by the phases of the moon, more creature than person, violent, dangerous, the bite of which would turn you into something other; a freak of nature.

Instead he learned where those stories had been born and warped from his own ancestral origins. Once able to shift into wolf forms, but long since forgotten how, leaving only the remnants of their wild instincts behind, an evolution for their own protection and assimilation but still other in many ways. Compelled by their innate animal natures by something within called subgender. 

Unique to their species and animals like them, like wolves. 

That was when Jeongguk learned he had presented as an alpha, the top of the sub gender hierarchy, above beta and omega wolf hybrids, giving him a prenatural disposition to be dominant, possessive, even aggressive at times. The domineering inner voice now given a label as his alpha. The compulsions to mark territory, to claim his space, his people, now given more clarity. 

And that was Jeongguk. A fucking werewolf, or rather a wolf hybrid, like the semantics mattered.

The strongly scented strangers Jeongguk had later found out were pack elders, who agreed to meet with his parents after his mother’s search for his birth father, Jeon Jiwan, had drawn their attention. 

His father, he had learned, was an ousted member of their pack. Rebellious and strong willed, a rogue alpha they had called him. They had lost track of him years ago, and had long suspected he had fathered a child though they hadn’t been sure until his mother’s online search compelled them to reach out. 

They met with Jeongguk just once, after their initial meeting with his parents, recognizing the alpha within Jeongguk immediately by scent alone, pungent and heady vetiver, a uniquely coded scent of alpha that was recognized by the others own inner wolves. 

They had offered Jeongguk a place within the pack, but he had rejected it, wanting no part of the side of himself that his birth father had cursed him with. 

Instead, he pushed it all away, choosing his human family and his human nature over something he never asked for though it battled him each and every day to take over. 

They told him he would have questions, and if he ever wanted the answers to find them again. But stubbornly he didn’t seek them out, he didn’t care about his alpha or whatever the fuck he was. 

He figured it out the hard way.

Through painful bouts of crazed intense week-long periods every three months where he tore his room apart, his alpha screaming for release that he couldn’t find. Similar to when he had initially presented only worse because it lasted days instead of hours, the painful arousal and need his alpha was demanding of him had no end. No matter how many times he came it was never enough. He broke nearly everything in his room, feverish, delirious at times and Jimin’s name a constant cry from his lips, but there was no Jimin to come to take the pain away. His alpha was completely consumed by the memory of the person he tried the hardest to forget. He locked himself away every time, his mother leaving water and food at his bedroom door, learning quickly to steer clear of him until like clockwork the angry growls and pitiful moans quieted down signaling the end of the misery, until next time anyway.

Jimin was gone, off to college probably, and Jeongguk tried to bury the memory of him even if his alpha was always there to remind him that he could never really forget him.

Because even if Jimin had ever wanted to see Jeongguk again, how could he ever seek him out now with what he was, a fucking monster.

Years went by like that; angry, miserable, resentful, frustrated, repressed, and altogether different and not knowing a fucking thing about what he was, except that he hated every part of it. 

Now a junior in college, he had made some kind of peace with what he was after he was lucky enough to connect with two other alpha wolves like him; Yoongi, a recently graduated music major that sniffed out Jeongguk as a sad baby alpha freshman that year and had then introduced him to Namjoon, a lit major who went to uni at Hankuk unlike Jeongguk and Yoongi who attended SNU. An extremely unlikely trio, with fuck all in common besides their biology but they managed to become his best friends all the same. 

Even then it wasn’t ever fucking easy. 

The two alpha’s had helped him a ton, connecting with him in a way that the pack elders had failed to, by appealing to his human side. He was still learning what it was to be a wolf, mostly indifferent to it all unless it was necessary. He appreciated that he had someone who he could ask questions without feeling stupid or like he was being judged, his friends giving him the space to be himself completely.

It was how he learned about how the painful periods he experienced every 3 months were called ruts, and they were normal for alphas, and that the whole swollen cock thing was normal too, knotting. That was pretty much all he needed to know, though he didn’t want to tell them he hadn’t knotted since his first rut. He was still too embarrassed to ask them about it, even if he knew they wouldn’t judge him.

But he had plenty of embarrassing conversations with them all the same. Like when his friends didn’t bat an eyelash about his sexuality, bi with a preference for guys, or at least guys with succulent pillowy lips and a thick ass. That’s how he learned that wolves were naturally pan sexual, preferences still existed, but innately they didn’t see gender the same way since -- and this was the big revelation -- male omega’s could get pregnant. Their wolves only saw people as potential mates and breeding partners so gender didn’t really apply. 

Then there was the whole magic cum thing.

Yeah, okay, so not magical exactly but it sure fucking felt like it, because apparently wolves could impregnant another male, human or otherwise, by making them into an omega. When done to another wolf, it was called bitching, not exactly the most tactful term but it was what it was. It was rare, fairly frowned upon, especially with a human partner for obvious reasons. Only happening if their wolves released a very specific hormone into their cum after deeming the partner mate material. 

It had Jeongguk thanking his lucky stars that he always wrapped it up and never seemed to be able to get off easily unless he was jerking off over someone’s mouth. Otherwise, the worst their cum could do was enhance sex, the hormones released on a lesser scale was an excellent aphrodisiac. He also was told that it helped humans take a knot without pain if the sex got to that point.

Jeongguk often wondered how the hell he would manage to explain knotting someone during sex in the first place, but that was something he didn’t have to worry about apparently, thanks to his alpha, the fucking dick. It was still there, still just as present but it had seemed to have gone quiet in a lot of ways, as if it was punishing Jeongguk for his constant rejection. So no knots, no genuinely gratifying sexual experiences. Just neutered hookups that left him feeling unsatisfied.

It only seemed to make itself known during his ruts as if it’s sole purpose was to make Jeongguk suffer, otherwise they tended to ignore each other.

All he knew now was they weren’t on speaking terms anymore, and he knew why. 

Jimin. 

His alpha wanted Jimin, and Jeongguk refused to look for him. Refusing to seek him out wasn’t just a punishment for his alpha, but a punishment for himself. He had left Jimin, used up just like every other douchebag that had scribbled disgusting shit all over the stalls of their high school bathrooms. He had been a fucking coward then, scared of himself, scared of what he was, and honestly scared of Jimin too.

Jimin was too good for him in the first place, Jeongguk had obviously been some kind of pity experiment. What would someone like Jimin want with a messed up kid who was crying and jerking off in a closet anyway?

And it wasn’t like Jimin had sought him out either, though it was just as likely Jimin didn’t even know his name. Jeongguk had been a nobody at his school, just a quiet artsy kid with big eyes, bunny teeth, and a mop of hair that made him indistinguishable from the rest of the student body. Jimin had probably forgotten all about him and it was for the best.

Sure, Jeongguk had a glow up. He could at least thank his alpha for that. Tall, intimidating, sharp features and all the muscle he seemed made to put on effortlessly had him turning more than a few heads and he let the attention give the distraction he desperately needed to grow out of his and his alpha’s obsession with Jimin.

But for all the meaningless sex he had to distract himself, it was never what he really wanted. Even with all the confidence and the roguish sexy fuckboy persona he had crafted for himself to cover his insecurities, they were all still there behind it all. He was still nothing Jimin would ever want, not some freak wolf boy.

Jeongguk flung himself onto his bed, annoyed. His phone was already blowing up with messages from the hookup of the evening, he quickly blocked her and tossed his phone aside.

His head was throbbing, the scent of her stuck to his bed like he’d doused the entire thing in spun sugar. 

It clung to his skin too, his clothes, his apartment. 

Fuck he’d have to air the whole place out at this point. 

Stripping the bed and ridding himself of his sweet soaked clothes, he ran the shower, hoping at the very least the water would wash away the cloying scent from his body before he was tempted to claw his skin off. 

But even the most elaborate soaps and hot water couldn’t wash away the experience itself. He could still feel her touch on him, he suppressed a shudder under the warm spray of his shower. His alpha felt smug about it, serves you right, it seemed to imply. Jeongguk wanted to roll his eyes, of course it would react to his hook up like that, but it was also right. 

Jeongguk did this to himself, and the way he was feeling was his own damn fault. 

He had crafted his own personal hell, traumatizing himself with each hook up like it would ever be anything but awful.

But he still had needs, fuck, even now his traitorous cock was half hard like he hadn’t just fucked someone 15 minutes ago. 

He was almost perpetually horny. 

You could say it was just too much testosterone but it was more than that, his alpha was dangling the solution to all his problems in front of his face with a flash of Jimin in his head -- Jimin would make it better, only our Jimin, problem solved, like it was just that easy.

Jeongguk resisted banging his head against the side of his shower stall, instead turning the taps to blast himself with a freezing jet of cold water instead in response to his annoying inner alpha’s fuckery. 

Once again, his alpha seemed to scoff, have it your way, idiot. 

The cold shower was a shock to his system, enough to get his dick to go limp but Jeongguk knew better than to think he had really won this battle. The war against his inner instincts and desires was always waging on, it had never stopped, not for a single day since he had presented and it wasn’t about to give up now, even if it went silent for a little while. 

Exhaustion set in deep in his bones, as Jeongguk collapsed still damp, cold and nude in his stripped bed, too emotionally spent to bother dressing or even replacing the blankets he had flung into his laundry basket.

More punishment for another bad decision, he supposed. 

Falling asleep to the lingering images of someone he’d never have, cold, and alone once again sounded about right. 

~*~🐺~*~

Friday night study group for a bunch of horny college guys went a little something like this; beer and soju spread out over a coffee table that was as much covered in half eaten bags of junk food as it was books, everyone just as over their attempts to study and kick off their weekend. It always started off with a rough attempt to actually work on their studies, but always devolved into the typical locker room talk; who fucked who, rumors and gossip and plans for the after they managed to escape study group.

Jeongguk wasn’t particularly close with any of the guys, but they were cool enough with each other, and after a few drinks they were always happy to let whatever bullshit spill from their lips without worrying about reactions. If the topic was about getting their dicks wet, they all seemed to be on the same page. 

Hook-ups were not something Jeongguk tended to share about, but the guys in the group already seemed well aware of his body count, word seemed to travel in the school and it was whatever. He didn’t really care about his reputation, people could think what they wanted about him. 

They seemed to want to impress him with their vivid stories, as if the less he shared about his own made them somehow more interested in gaining his favor. Aloof as he was, the air of mystery surrounding Jeongguk fueled some kind of fire for his attention. Maybe it was that alpha-vibe he gave off, not trying but exuding a kind of dominance over the other guys that made them admire and respect him. 

“Have you heard about Seven?”

Daeun, a short stocky guy asked the group, small eyes lit up, his voice a little breathless as if he had a wonderful secret to share.

He scanned over the other guys scattered around the room, a few seemed to have recognition in their eyes, shiftily gauging the others' reactions, none too keen to confirm or deny. 

The odd way everyone went a little still had Jeongguk knitting his brows together, intrigued if only because he had rarely seen the over-exuberant group go so quiet.

“The gay club?” One of the others spoke up, looking a little nervous to admit he’d heard of it.

“What about it?” Jeongguk asked, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, the rest of the group following suit of their unannounced de facto leader, Jeongguk’s approval of the topic an unspoken but clear signal to continue.

Daeun’s eyes widened, a blush on his round cheeks intensifying beyond the pink glow the soju he drank was giving him. 

“Ah, uh, it’s… it’s actually a sex club.”

Jeongguk hummed, “You’ve been?”

“Y-yeah, but it’s… I guess it’s technically for gays but a few of the guys in my frat told me about it. They said,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “go on Saturday, get there early and look for room 13, you won’t be disappointed.”

“What happens in room 13?” Jeongguk smirked, imploring the other to continue, relishing the way the rest of the room was hanging on the conversation despite the turn from hetero to more homoerotic topics for once.

More to his tastes.

“Saturday is glory hole night,” Daeun continued, as if that was self explanatory.

“So, you went and got your dick sucked anonymously a gay club?” Yugyeom, a tall, good looking guy with sharp eyes piped up, a bark of laughter escaping his lips as he swigged his beer.

“What’s wrong with that?” Jeongguk turned, fixing the other with a raised eyebrow, he challenged the other with a look to say something stupid if he dared. 

Yugyeom looked away quickly, swallowing his mouthful of beer.

“Uh, nothing’s wrong with it, if the head’s that good I guess.”

“And was it?” Jeongguk asked with unconcealed interest. The concept was quite intriguing, even his alpha was perking up, the idea of a glory hole seemed surprisingly perfect to him. No annoying scents, no face, just hot wet warmth wrapped around his cock. Maybe it was the answer he’d been looking for, tricking his alpha into giving him merciful relief to his knotting issue. It might not be Jimin, but it’d be a whole lot easier to pretend.

“It was… unbelievable. I’ve never had a better blow job in my life. I’m not gay but fuck if it mattered there.”

Jeongguk nodded, a small smile playing at his lips, the others seemed to be hanging on every word, encouraged by Jeongguk’s approval.

“Actually, I’ve been there too, and he’s not kidding. It was fucking unreal. This guy in room 13, he’s a legend. I wasn’t sure you guys would be into that kind of thing so I didn’t mention it but shit, you should check it out. Worth it.” This time it was Wooshik that had chimed in, a beefy meathead of a guy who Jeongguk would have never expected to dabble in guy on guy action or at least admit it so openly.

“Maybe I will,” Jeongguk chuckled, “It’s been a minute since I got really good head. A couple years actually.”

“Seriously? I figured you were drowning in it.” Yugyeom’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

“I said good head, not that I wasn’t getting any.” Jeongguk smirked, sipping his beer even though it had gone warm in his hand and licking the dregs from his pierced lips. 

The tension in the room eased into laughter, a few of the guys admitting they were more than intrigued, none more so than Jeongguk. 

Looked like he had plans for Saturday that for once didn’t involve bringing a hook-up back to his apartment, and thank fuck because he was not interested in doing that much laundry again so soon. 

~*~🐺~*~

Seven was nondescript, easy enough to find on Naver maps yet the listing was suspiciously devoid of information for obvious reasons. 

Clubs like this existed in every city but flew under the radar of the general populace, depending on word of mouth in select circles for their clientele on a strictly need to know basis. 

It didn’t look like much on the outside, but stepping through the doors was like entering another world entirely.

Warm burgundy toned crushed velvet and black satin adored every fixture that wasn’t a rich mahogany wood. The decor screamed of sensuality, begging for you to run your fingers over the furniture and feel the silky texture under your skin. 

If a room could look like desire in the physical, then Seven’s front lobby looked the part in every way. 

Behind a statuesque desk in the corner of the room was an equally statuesque man, beautiful and elegant. His features were some of the most symmetrical and handsome Jeongguk had ever seen on a real person. The man craned his long neck to peer knowingly at Jeongguk, a wistful look in his eyes as he appraised the somewhat bewildered newcomer. 

“Let me guess, you heard about us from your buddies at uni right?”

“Uh, y-yeah, how’d you know?” Jeongguk sputtered, taken off guard. The guy laughed lightly, warmth spreading across his too good looking face. 

“Wide eyed, young, virile, and here on a Saturday? We’ve had an influx of college guys, seems even the hets can’t resist the stories about room 13.” He gestured to the large closed doors to the right of his desk where the club actually laid beyond. 

“Oh, I’m not straight,” Jeongguk was quick to correct, “but yeah, I’m interested in room 13.”

“Really? My gaydar must be malfunctioning today, you just give off straight fuckboy vibes, no offense.” The handsome stranger pursed his full lips and gave Jeongguk a long once over, a smile returning to his mouth, his eyes a bit narrowed suggestively, “Though, I bet this look is working out for you, a lot of us are into that bad boy thing.”

Jeongguk smirked, feeling the way his body was being appraised positively was giving him a little boost, “It certainly hasn’t hurt, but I hafta admit I’m looking for something a little different these days.”

“Well I’m glad you found us then, something different is basically what we specialize in. Let’s get you signed up. You won't be able to participate in anything tonight without a clean STD screening from the last 24 hours but we can get the rest of the paperwork started.”

“Actually, I came prepared, my friends already let me know the rules so I hit up the clinic first thing. Have my results right here.” Jeongguk pulled the folded print out from his pocket and approached the desk, sliding the results to the other man.

“Nice, I appreciate the preparation, you must be especially eager, huh?”

“Would it be lame if I said I was?” 

“Not at all, I don’t blame you for being excited. He really is everything they say he is.”

“Then did I get here early enough for a slot tonight?” Jeongguk’s voice wavered slightly, everything seemed to hitch on the idea that he was going to get his dick wet tonight, but was suddenly afraid he’d be doomed to hit up tinder last minute again and he just didn’t think he could handle the let down.

“Yup, 13 always has a line out the door, but you were smart to get here early. If you’re patient you’ll be in for a treat.”

“So there’s already a line?”

“For 13? Always. Some guys are here before we even open. The night is still young, he doesn’t stop until we close so he’ll get to you, don’t worry about it, I’ll have to start turning people away soon though.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk swallowed hard, if he was really that popular he could only imagine what tonight had in store for him. His pants were already starting to tighten uncomfortably with the thought of what was yet to come. 

Jeongguk quickly filled out his paperwork, his penmanship a little shaky with the adrenaline, the handsome man making copies of his drivers license, health screening, and signing the appropriate release forms. Before long, he was handing over his credit card to pay for his membership dues and being handed a sleek black pamphlet with Seven stamped across the cover and a black NFC disk like you’d get from a restaurant for when your order is ready. 

“Hang on to that, when it buzzes and lights up, you’re up to bat. And that pamphlet includes our nightly theme schedule and information on the club itself as well as etiquette and general rules you must adhere to while at the club. You’ll also be expected to do routine health screenings to maintain your membership in good standing and continue to utilize safe sex practices outside of the facilities. We are an at will establishment, you can terminate your membership at any time for any reason, and we reserve the right to do the same. There is a zero tolerance policy for harassment, violence, or any kind of demeaning behavior. We don’t fuck around, so as long as you follow the rules, you’ll be golden.”

“Sounds good,” Jeongguk breathed, tucking the disk and pamphlet to look over later in his back pocket, he was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Fuck, that was an understatement, he was shaking like a virgin all over again. He tried his best to exude calmness but his heart was racing with excitement and nerves. 

“Great, you can go inside now, there’s a bar where you can mingle, get drinks and hang out until it’s your turn for 13, of course there’s also plenty of other rooms that don’t have a waiting list if you’d like to experiment in the meantime. If a room is empty, you’re also welcome to occupy it on the receiving end if that’s something that interests you. The only person with a standing occupancy is 13, because, well, you’ll see.” He winked and walked over to the doors, holding it open for Jeongguk with a flourish. 

“Thanks, uh?” Jeongguk began, realizing he didn’t know the other's name, turning to him a little sheepishly.

“Seokjin, but my friends call me Jin, maybe we’ll get there soon if I see you around enough, cutie.” 

Jeongguk smiled, Seokjin’s flirtatious warmth making him feel a lot more comfortable, “I have a feeling you might, Seokjin-ssi.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, fighting, Jeongguk-ssi!”

With that Seokjin whimsically twirled away allowing the doors to close softly leaving Jeongguk to finally take in the lounge interior of the club. 

It was a lot more vibrant than the exterior lobby, but still decadent. There was ample mood lighting, accompanying a dozen different multicolored couches set up like miniature living rooms, giving a comfortable low key atmosphere. There were numerous men coupled around the room, engaging in conversation, enjoying a drink at the bar or in a few cases feeling each other up in front of a small audience. No one seemed to bat an eyelash, it was a bit relieving and bewildering at the same time. 

On either side of the bar which was centered in the middle of the room dividing the lounge into two sides, were darkened narrow corridors, which could only lead to the rooms set up for tonight's theme. 

Curiously, he wondered how many of the guys littering the lounge were here waiting for 13. If he had to guess it would be the ones at the bar, who’s eyes all seemed to flicker back and forth towards the darkened corridors as if waiting to see someone return with a dazed smile on their faces. 

Jeongguk took up an empty stool, tucking his long legs beneath the bar and projected an aura of indifference and maybe a little hostility, not really wanting to be bothered. 

He flagged down the bartender, a twink wearing a harness with pierced nipples and a smooth hairless chest on display. He might have caught Jeongguk’s attention in any other situation, the piercings were a nice touch, but he couldn’t really focus on anything besides the prospect of room 13. He needed a drink to loosen up, the bartender was happy to oblige, giving Jeongguk a shameless once over and a wink with his highball on a black Seven embossed paper coaster that had his number scribbled on the underside of it. 

Jeongguk wouldn’t have thought to even look at the underside of the coaster if it weren’t for the way the bartender flashed it at him intentionally with a lick to his glossy pink lips. 

“Enjoy, Daddy.”

Cringe.

Maybe Jeongguk needed to tone down the dom vibes after all, his tattoos, lip piercings and overall brooding dark aesthetic was enough without people thinking he was here looking for a sub on top of it all. 

He peeled off his black leather jacket and draped it over his lap, one part an attempt to conceal the hard on he’d been sporting since he walked in the door and also reduce the leather daddy vibes he wasn’t trying to project. 

The white t-shirt he wore beneath was casual but much more form fitting than he normally wore, reserved for the days he wanted to show off the cut of his muscular chest, conforming nicely without being overly tight, it had a deep v neck, exposing collar bones and the tops of his pecks. A long silver chain hung in the space between drawing even more attention to the golden skin left exposed. 

He felt a little on display, his tattoos drawing additional attention and approving gazes. 

He’d usually eat this shit up, but he kind of felt the need to hide in a corner until people gave up trying to get him to look their way. The disk in his pocket felt like a bomb ready to go off at any moment, and it was setting him on edge. 

He pounded his highball and ordered a second, just so he could find a dark corner and people watch until it was his turn.

He nursed his drink and hopelessly kept his eyes trained on the corridor that seemed so dark it would swallow you up if you stepped inside. Sure enough, Jeongguk watched the guys from the bar one by one twitch as their own concealed disks signaled their turn, sliding off their stools and receding into the darkness.

Jeongguk hadn’t seen anyone actually come out of the corridor but slowly people filtered in. He imagined there must have been a back exit for those who were ready to leave after their ‘appointment’ was completed. He supposed it made sense, after getting the life sucked out of you what point would there be in coming back to socialize?

It was oddly a relief, a small part of him aware that irrationally his alpha would be even less pleased about the experience if it also had to see the dopey fucked out grins of guys who just blew their load with someone he was also about do the same with. 

The less his alpha had to complain about the better. 

If this was going to work out the way he hoped, then he needed to convince his alpha he was with Jimin. 

Easy enough in theory, he only ever pictured the gorgeous blond during sex anyways. By cutting off the rest of his senses besides the mouth wrapped around his dick, he should have no issue convincing the alpha to simmer down and enjoy himself properly for once. 

That was the hope anyway.

Jeongguk was a little drunk, on his 4th or 5th highball, but who was keeping track? Probably not the best idea when the whole point of being here was to blow his load, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be suffering from a whiskey dick. His cock was brutally hard in his pants. If it weren’t for the leather material of his pants being moisture resistant he’d be pretty worried about the wetness dripping from his tip making it look like he’d cum in his pants by now. 

The drinks did help him loosen up though, and he’d even managed to have a few conversations which managed to pass the time a little more mercifully, but fuck, it was starting to get unbearable now.

Just when he was nearly tempted to let the guy eyefucking him from across the room feel him up just to take the edge off, Jeongguk felt the disk in his pocket buzz.

His heart leapt into his throat and he sat bolt upright.

Be fucking cool, he hissed internally.

With a more controlled attempt at nonchalance he grabbed his jacket, and headed towards the corridors. Ignoring the odd whistle and cat call as he sported an obnoxiously huge hard on as he passed a few guys near the hallway. 

Each room in the hallway had a different number painted on the door in white, and a red or green light signaling its occupancy but on room 13 there was something else hung up on the door in addition to the green light giving Jeongguk the go ahead to enter. He paused to look at the printed sheet of paper taped to the door, glowing dimly green. 

It was a list of do’s and don’ts as well as a grainy selca displaying puffy swollen lips, parted and wet, cum dripping from a dainty chin. 13 had a slender neck, pale skin and delicate collar bones, Jeongguk could even see a bit of their toned but slender chest peeking from the bottom of the photo. 

His heart was hammering at his ribs, they were exactly what he had been looking for. He could easily picture this person as Jimin, the plump lips in particular grabbing his attention. They were perfect.

If the rest of tonight lived up to the rumors, Jeongguk was pretty sure he was about to be a regular for sure. 

He took care to quickly read over the do’s and don’ts, committing it all to memory and with shaking hands opened the door and slipped inside the dimly lit room.

~*~💋~*~

Seokjin held the staff entrance door open for Jimin, slipping quickly inside the club with the door automatically locking behind him. 

“Aish, I should really just give you a key at this point,” Seokjin pointed out, while Jimin pulled his hat and sunglasses off. 

“You could also pay me since I bring half the clientele while you’re at it.” Jimin sniffed haughtily.

“That’s called prostitution, my sweet child.” Seokjin booped Jimin on the nose.

“Conveniently for you,” Jimin groused, his lips pouting.

“Do I not already treat you like the crowned prince of Seven? Free membership, free drinks, free dick? I’m a generous and benevolent king if I do say so myself. Wah, I really thought I raised you better than this.”

“Don’t be dramatic, hyung,”

“Ungrateful little…”

Jimin snickered as Seokjin sauntered away muttering under his breath half curses for Jimin’s petulance. Bickering was their love language. 

The club wasn’t open yet, which gave Jimin the chance to head to the back of the club and get his room ready for the evening. He helped himself behind the bar, grabbing an arm load of water bottles, a couple bottles of soju and loaded them into his backpack. Clicking around merrily in his bag as he hoisted it on his shoulder, he also picked out a pile of clean dish rags and cleaning solvent. 

Since his room was going to be occupied round the clock, he’d be the one to clean in between patrons so he didn’t have to deal with staff and could jam as many guys into one evening as possible.

With his bounty procured he bounded into his reserved room. It was just big enough to not make Jimin feel claustrophobic but small enough that two people were all that could comfortably fit before the air would start to feel a little too humid to be comfortable. Jimin had space to set his backpack down in the back corner, a mini fridge set up on one side that Seokjin had put in just for him, a chair, as well as a padded mat for his knees if he decided he wanted to sit on the floor at any point. His side of the room had access to a small digital panel that locked and unlocked the door, switches for occupied or vacant, as well as a panic button incase of emergency but thankfully Jimin had never needed to use it. 

The partition itself was designed to be retractable, and sturdy. It anchored to the floor and was strong enough to withstand pressure if applied on either side, in the instance someone vigorously fucked into it, for example. There was a baseball sized hole cut out of it that Jimin could adjust the height of by releasing the tensioners on the ceiling or pulling them up, kind of like blinds. A medical grade silicone ring was installed in the hole, for comfort and hygiene purposes, being easy enough to clean in between partners. 

It wasn’t glamorous but it worked, and was probably 1000% safer and less gross than the typical bathroom glory hole variety. 

Jimin sat in his chair, phone charger plugged into the wall, killing time before his first guest would arrive. He was vibrating, knee bouncing with eager nerves, he could practically taste the relief on his tongue already. Just a few more minutes.

Jimin connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker he set up on top of the mini fridge. His playlist started up and drowned out the noise of his own thoughts as the minutes dragged on. 

Not 2 minutes after the doors to the club opened, there was already someone stepping inside his room. The soft shuffle of feet and the click of the door were all Jimin needed to hear to bounce over to the panel, marking the room as occupied and taking his seat, making sure his mask was securely fitted over his eyes and nose. He sat adjacent to the hole itself, waiting with his breath tightly held in his chest until sure enough there was a zipping sound and a soft pink cock was pressed through the partition. 

Jimin held back a small sigh of disappointment, not even hard yet? C’mon boys, do better.

Jimin took the limp thing into his warm hand, giving the length some tugs of encouragement which seemed to help. Soon enough the guy was hard enough to take into his mouth, a quiet grunt accompanied the first suck, purposely hard, drawing it out to encourage his cock to fully attain rigidity. 

He’d get there, if Jimin had anything to do with it. 

By the time Jimin was done with him, the guy had gone from flaccid to raging, quiet sighs to guttural groans, blossoming under Jimin’s attentive mouth until he was slapping the spurting length on his tongue and smearing his cum across his lips with the tip. The taste as usual left much to be desired, but he still sighed a bit in relief as the fluid settled his anxious itch ever so slightly.

One down, fuck knows how many to go. 

The guy whispered his thanks and Jimin smiled oddly endeared as the guy flitted from the room with a bit more pep in his step. 

Quickly he tapped the lock option on the panel and set to cleaning the space for the next guy. 

~*~💋~*~

He’d been at it for a while, 6 or 7 guys in the bag and he was feeling good. His jaw was always a little sore at this point, but he’d take the ache over the burning itch under his skin any day. He was good at giving his mouth a break if it needed, working his small warm hands over their cocks hadn’t gotten him a complaint yet. 

He downed a bottle of water, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. The room was sanitized and he was ready for his next guest, he sat on his chair and spun it towards the panel unlocking the room and marking it vacant. 

He let himself get a little distracted by the music while he waited, selecting Jackson Wang’s Magic Man album for shits and gigs. The door opened while Jimin was mouthing along to the lyrics of the aptly named first song on the album, ‘Blow.’ 

“A bit on the nose don’t you think?” A warm deep voice laced with amusement drifted into the room with the sound of the door clicking behind the partition.

“Huh?” Startled by the sound of the surprisingly sexy voice when he wasn’t expecting it forced the confused response to utter from his lips. 

“The song, Blow? Oh fuck, sorry, I literally just read I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

Jimin laughed despite himself and hummed instead of responding, forgetting himself that he had those rules for a reason. He could almost picture the guy scratching the nape of his neck sheepishly. This guy had a really nice voice though, he almost wanted to break the rules. 

“You have a nice laugh, just saying, I’ll shut up now,” the other added, as if he couldn’t help himself.

Jimin smirked, there was a boyishness to his lilt despite depth of his tone, a little mumbly. Cute. 

“You have a nice voice, now shut up and feed me your cock.” 

Whatever, it was his rule to break.

Anticipation built inside him yet again, Jimin straddled his chair and tapped twice on the divider with a cheeky smile. It sounded like there was a quick stumble towards the partition, then a hiss of breathy effort and the rustling of clothing that signaled he was about to do exactly as Jimin requested. Whatever Jimin was expecting to make an its grand entrance via the hole in the wall to match the voice, well, it wasn’t a fucking horse cock. 

Huge, thick, hard as a rock.

Could a dick be beautiful? Cus, fuck, what a gorgeous cock; veined nicely, darkly flushed red tip, shining wetly already for him. Fuck if Jimin didn’t love a guy who was eager. 

He took him in his hand and appreciated the substantial weight of it, “Fuck me,” Jimin whispered almost inaudibly, licking his lips as if he could taste him already. 

“I thought we were just doing the blow job?” 

Wait, he heard that? 

His voice sounded a little strained, understandably affected as Jimin manhandled his impressive length, but Jimin could tell there was a joke there too. A bit cocky, pun intended. 

Jimin almost wanted to punish him and give him a hand job instead of sucking him off just to be a brat, but he honest to God could not wait to taste this monster. 

He worked the shaft, pumping it slowly and squeezed the base watching the whole thing twitch deliciously in his hand that could hardly encapsulate the girth of it.

Jimin delighted in the groan that broke free from the man’s chest, a deep rumbling sound that sent shivers up his spine.

He kicked the chair back and sank to his knees and brought it to his lips, kissing the wet tip, and dipping his tongue into the juicy slit. 

Jimin’s eyes bulged open at the taste and a full bodied shudder rolled down his spine as the flavor of the man exploded on his tongue.  

What. The. Actual. Fuck? 

Only now he was hit with the scent of the other, an unmistakable musky vetiver caressing his nostrils and the sweet ambrosial flavor of precum he had been dreaming about since he was 17. 

He couldn’t forget it, engrained so deeply in his DNA that he could differentiate the distinctive taste and scent amongst a million identical cocks. Dreaming about it, agonizing over it, driving himself batshit insane to the point of literally sucking hundreds of dicks just for the chance it might be remotely like the one he was addicted to. His personal heroin and he was about to OD on it.

Jimin jerked forward so quickly onto his dick he almost got whiplash, mindless except for the dark urge to take him into his mouth and keep him there, deep throating until it felt like it had rearranged his insides, enveloping his length like his mouth was uniquely made just for this purpose. He worked it like his life depended on it, because in so many ways it really felt like it did.

He caressed every inch of the length with shaking fingers, massaging the base in the way he knew made the other quiver, putting pressure around it and twisting the area until he heard a choked gasp, “F-fuck, mmm, just like that!”

He knew, because it could only be the boy he lost years ago, now a whole ass grown man with the cock to prove it. 

His voice was deeper now, but shit, how had he not realized? His moans were still the same, still as breathless and affected. The distinctive guttural growl he let out when Jimin sucked hard and swirled his tongue around the head was uncanny, impossible to replicate. His gasps of pleasure were like a symphony, each breathy utterance sending pulse after pulse of pleasure through Jimin’s body, lighting him up from the inside and making his cock weep in his pants.

It’s him, it’s really fucking him!

It had to be, because no one else in the world was capable of setting Jimin’s arousal aflame like a match to gasoline. Trust me, he’d looked. No one could make him cum untouched in his pants from the taste of his sex alone beside him, none tasted like the most refreshing drink on a hot summer day, smelled like the way rain felt on your skin after a long drought as the sun peeked behind dewy clouds, none besides his lost teenage lover and apparently the owner of the huge leaking cock in his mouth. 

2+2 is 4 y’all, it had to be him. 

Jimin tore his hands away from the searingly hot flesh and ripped his pants open, not taking the length from his lips even for a moment, struggling to free his own hardness with a moan that vibrated against the length causing it to twitch in his mouth.

He hadn’t jerked himself off not even once in this room since he started this whole gig, but the pressure and desire that was building inside him felt like it would kill him if he didn’t. 

Blindly he tugged at his cock, already dripping, moans resounding in his chest as he fucked his fist, the distinctively wet sound filled the air that was already noisy with panting, grunts and the music in the background. 

“Y-you’re touching yourself? Fuck that’s hot, mmm.”

Jimin could only whine in response, so fucking overwhelmed and sick with need that he was pretty sure he was crying, if not from the way he was depriving himself of breath, then from the emotional and sensational overload. He was already close, the wet sounds combining with his eager slurping and suckling, not stopping for anything even if it meant he would pass out with his dick in his hand and a cock shoved down his throat. 

“That’s it, baby, you can cum. Do it for me.”

His sultry deep voice triggered a violent shock wave of pleasure rippling through Jimin’s body as he spurted hot jets of cum over his hand, fucking himself through it into a state of over sensitivity, his mouth dropping open while the hard length inside it slid against his tongue, rubbing it while he gasped and drooled around the intrusion.

Jimin shuttered and jerked, clearly cumming hard even if the other couldn’t see or adequately hear his moans with a cock blocking his windpipe. But he could surely feel the vibrations around his length, the way Jimin’s mouth flooded overly with saliva until it was spilling from the corners, so messy and debauched. 

The cock in his mouth twitched appreciatively, clearly responding to the arousing sounds of Jimin reaching his climax and a low growl escaped the man’s throat, pulling back slightly to thrust forward against Jimin’s open mouth, focusing on how fucking turned on Jimin had made him.

“Fuck, you sounded so good. You were so fucking good for me, baby.”

Jimin moaned wantonly around the intrusion. He was good, he’d be so so so good for him, he would let him do this forever and all he asked for in return was his sweet release to fill him up. He practically purred from the praise, if he hadn’t cum already he probably would have right then. He was used to dirty talk, sweet talk, praise and the like from his patrons but nothing sounded sweeter than his. He would never get tired of hearing him. Jimin longed to respond in kind but all he could manage was more intense moans. 

His thrusting was getting sloppier, Jimin just sat and took it, it sounded like the other was getting close too, the talking coming more and more as the other lost himself in his own pleasure.

“You came hard, didn’t you, I could feel it. You like my cock in your mouth that much?” 

Jimin managed a sound he hoped confirmed the other’s question, probably more of a broken grunt than anything. He flattened his tongue and let the other thrust and rub harshly against it, gifting him with dripping precum that soothed the soreness from being deep throated by such a large cock.

He wanted to say he didn’t like it, he loved it. He needed it, was addicted to it, wanted to live attached to it, suckle it like a pacifier as he fell asleep each night and wake to getting throat fucked and drowned in cum each morning -- but the moans would have to do for now. 

“I-I’m close, gunna fill you up, mmph, you want that?”

More moans of desperate agreement followed as he hallowed his cheeks and sucked harshly, swirling his tongue in tandum.

“Take it, it’s all for you. Only y-you, f-f-fuck!”

The other suddenly pulled back from Jimin’s mouth until only a third of his cock was visible through the hole, throbbing angrily and for a horrifying second Jimin thought that he was going to miss his cum shot, his long long awaited reward.

He could hear him fisting the base of his cock on the other side of the partition, could even see the tips of his, surprisingly, tattooed fingers where he gripped himself at the root. 

A drunk face emoji adorning the upper knuckle of his middle finger.

Jimin pressed himself closer to the hole, lining his lips up with the tip, flicking the head with his tongue.

“Shit, ugh, I’m coming!” The other shouted breathlessly as Jimin wrapped his lips around the head and sucked hard just in time to feel the white hot spray of the other’s release flooding his mouth and overtaking his senses. 

Jimin drank it down, refusing to let even a drop escape his lips. His eyes rolled up and back into his head and he swore he had ascended, his vision seemed like it had gone entirely, only bursts of stars behind his eyelids as he foggily realized he was coming untouched again for the second time in his life. 

The dick between his lips wasn’t done yet, still heaping spurt after spurt into Jimin’s mouth, ensuring he would soon be filled to the brim as promised.

By the time he was slipping from his mouth and pulling away, Jimin was completely cock drunk, dazed and so sated he couldn’t think straight. Pure unadulterated bliss coursed through his veins that were probably pumping nothing but cum through them at this point anyway. 

“ Shit, um, I gotta go.”

Jimin froze at the voice, only realizing a moment too late that the other was fleeing the scene, same as he had in the past, like a bad movie that was stuck repeating the same horrible ending.

“W-wait, fuck!” 

Jimin scrambled unsteadily to his feet, frantically fumbling with the partition buckles with numbed fingers as the door clicked shut, sounding in Jimin’s ears like the equivalent of his life flatlining. 

By the time Jimin scurried to the door and ripped it open, he was already long gone. 

Again. 

~*~🐺~*~

“You knotted a glory hole?”

Yoongi’s expression was more dumbfounded than judgmental. Better than the latter Jeongguk supposed. 

“Wait, I’m still stuck on the fact that you haven’t knotted since your first rut. What the hell did you do to piss your alpha off that badly?”

Namjoon’s deep timbre sounded concerned, as usual, who sometimes unintentionally acted like an overprotective parent more than a friend at times.

His friends were leveling him with intense stares, both wanting more explanation than Jeongguk seemed capable of providing at the moment. His head was still swimming even hours after the incident.  

Reeling from popping his first knot since he was 16 in the presence of a completely anonymous stranger had Jeongguk understandably freaking the fuck out. 

While he had been hoping his alpha would at least let him enjoy the experience, he wasn’t truthfully expecting to knot. He had been imagining it was Jimin blowing him, naturally, that was the whole point, right? But he supposed his imagination had worked too well. When reality had set in post nut and he realized what had happened, he was afraid he went into early rut and ran the fuck away. A lot like he had the last time he had knotted, now that he thought of it. 

He called his friends in a complete tizzy. Yoongi came straight from his studio with Namjoon in tow shortly thereafter. They were the only people that could possibly know what the hell was going on with him for sure. He was feeling a little more relieved now that his friends confirmed that as far as they could tell from his scent he was not, in fact, going into an early rut. Which of course left him facing questions on why he hell he would have thought that in the first place. 

Jeongguk raked a frustrated hand over his face, “God, this is so embarrassing, fuck.”

“It’s not embarrassing, it’s concerning Gguk. Alpha’s have a biological need to knot. You didn’t think that it was maybe you should have told us earlier?”

“We never judged you before, not even when you passed out and pissed your pants at Namjoon’s birthday party last year.” Yoongi began, a small quirk of his lips teasing the corner of his mouth. “Okay, maybe we judged you a little, but that was just too fucking funny.”

“Shut uuuup,” Jeongguk huffed, the older alpha’s always managing to bring out his more petulant pouty side, like the little bro he was to them. Jeongguk sighed deeply, realizing this was going to be a long arduous walk down painful memory lane so he might as well get comfortable.

~*~🐺~*~

“Jesus Gguk, you fucking imprinted,” Yoongi said, sounding worried and exasperated, sharing a glance with Namjoon who nodded in grim agreement.

Imprinted?

“You’re royally fucked.”

“Why? What the fuck is imprinting, and what does that have to do with my knot? You guys knot all the damn time -- well I guess not Namjoon since he’s saving his virginity for god or something.”

For once the others didn’t crack a smile, Jeongguk’s attempt at making light of the situation by teasing them went as flat as stale beer in a solo cup.

“Take this seriously, Jeongguk. I’m not fucking around when I say this is bad, okay?” Yoongi shook his head and stood up from the couch to pace the length of it, running his hands through his long layered dark hair with his jaw tight.

Jeongguk couldn’t remember ever seeing the older look so disconcerted. Serious? Sure. Bored? Frequently. Mildly amused but stone faced? Definitely. But never worried. It had Jeongguk suddenly dropping the bratty act and feeling wrong footed. 

“What’s the point of us taking you in as pack if you’re not even going to trust us enough to ask the hard questions? You’ve put your life at risk here just because you were embarrassed about your knot? Is your ego really that fragile?”

“Hyung,” Namjoon started softly watching Yoongi pace with a frown, “he didn’t know.”

Jeongguk felt the wind fall from his sails, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Yoongi had never spoken to him like that and he didn’t know what to say. He was embarrassed and ashamed of himself, because Yoongi was right. His ego was fragile, everything he was culminated in a carefully constructed facade. His alpha mocked him and punished him and it was just another thing that he was failing at as an alpha, as a friend and as a packmate. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Jeongguk started abashed, feeling unaccustomed to the prickle of tears he hadn’t felt in ages start to burn his eyes, “I’ll do better. I trust you guys, of course I do. It’s just… you know it’s never been easy for me, being a wolf. I didn’t grow up like you guys did. Half the time I don’t even know what I should be asking. There’s no fucking guide on how to be a wolf properly. I’m trying, but -- but I’ll try harder.” He sniffed, brushing the tears that fell from shame frustratedly from his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Gguk, I’m not trying to be an asshole here, okay?” Yoongi began again, flopping back onto the couch with clear exhaustion from the situation written all over his face. He propped himself on his elbows and leaned forward, his voice a little softer this time, “We know it’s been hard for you, that’s why we’re here. No fucking judgment. But we have a lot of shit to explain that I honestly never thought you’d need to know and I guess that’s our fault for assuming. We should do better too.”

“He’s right, I don’t know why we didn’t just sit you down and give you the whole dissertation. I guess I figured you’d ask the questions and we’d just answer them, let you guide the process. Didn’t want to overwhelm you, I suppose.” Namjoon let out his own tired sigh and closed his eyes to collect his thoughts. “I guess I’ll start with the most important thing at the moment -- imprinting.”

Jeongguk nodded sheepishly, hanging on every word. His body was tense and the air in the room had soured considerably from the notes of worry and concern in the collective alpha’s scents.

“The first thing I can say about it is, it’s incredibly rare. One of the biggest reasons why it never occurred to me to say anything about it. I guess, in human terms the closest thing would be something like… fuck it’s weird even saying it out loud --”

“Soulmates.” Yoongi finished with a grimace. 

“W-what?” Jeongguk stammered. “That’s not even real, what are you saying?”

“Soulmates aren’t real -- but imprinting is very real. With wolves in particular. I’ve never even heard of someone imprinting on a human before. But here you are, fucking patient zero with the absentee knot to prove it.” Yoongi explained dryly with a bit of disdain.

“B-but I did knot, that was the whole point of me calling you over here today.”

“Yeah, but you’re missing the bigger picture. Before today, you hadn’t knotted since you presented. When you imprinted on the fucking human that sucked you off during your rut.” Yoongi stated pointedly. 

“How do you know I imprinted on him?” Jeongguk anxiously worried his bottom lip between his teeth until he could taste blood.

“Your alpha operates on instinct, right? Your alpha instincts have found someone that meets its perfect criteria of a mate. Normally, wolves don't behave like this until after they’ve officially mated each other, bonding their wolves, but it’s like your wolf skipped right over that part because they imprinted. 

“So no, not magically intertwined by fate like fictional soulmates, but for you it’s basically the same fucking thing. They are your biological match, and your alpha knows it. It proved it by being triggered by that -- honestly fucked up bathroom peeping tom situation -- and cemented it when you knot when he helped you out. The evidence of no knots since then backs up the theory.” Yoongi’s lips thinned even more dramatically in a hard line. 

“My head hurts, this is too much,” Jeongguk groaned, fisting the strands of his hair in utter angst, already struggling to process the information overload. 

Even though the imprint concept was news to him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit unsurprised. He already knew his alpha had chosen Jimin even if he didn’t know the gravity of it, but he never really understood why and chose to ignore the instincts that were compelling him to find him. 

“But there’s more to it,” Namjoon pressed on.

“Of course there is,” Jeongguk grumbled sarcastically.

Namjoon rolled his eyes and continued.

“Every part of your alpha is absent during your hook-ups, you’ve already said as much. Because your alpha is refusing to participate in any sexual encounter that isn’t the one it has imprinted on. It’s not a choice for you anymore, it’s a need. If you go on like this, eventually your alpha will snap and you’ll go feral. And when that happens, well, there’s no coming back. The pack would be forced to put you down for the safety of others.”

“Feral…?” Jeongguk repeated quietly, eyes falling to his sock clad feet and staring a hole into them.

Yoongi nodded with a solemn look, “Yes, and it’s exactly how it sounds. You lose yourself to your instincts and go full wolf, no restraint, all mindless wild animal. That’s why alpha’s need to knot. Literally ignoring your inner alpha’s instincts will drive you crazy.” 

“So let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Jeongguk said defeatedly, “No imprint, no knot. No knot, no sanity?”

“Yeah, that’s the jist of it.” Namjoon nodded.  

“But then why did I knot today?”

“Fuck if I know,” Yoongi deadpanned. “All I do know is you need to find the guy you imprinted on, even if you managed a fluke knot today by confusing your alpha it’s gunna wise up eventually.” 

“Shit,” Jeongguk shook his head and dropped it into his hands. 

“You do want to find the guy, don’t you? You and your alpha have been pining for him for years from what it sounds like. That’s gotta be miserable, what’s stopping you from looking him up?” Namjoon asked gently, too gentle for the alpha he supposedly was, though his large muscular frame begged to differ.

“Mm,” Jeongguk hummed noncommittally from behind his palms, rubbing until stars burst behind his eyelids. Of course he wanted Jimin, he had never stopped wanting him. But finding him was another story entirely. It just wasn’t that simple.

“You’re worried he won’t want you.” 

Namjoon didn’t question, he was stating facts.

“Mm,” Jeongguk hummed again. Too exhausted to give a decent response, especially when he hit the nail on the head so easily. 

“Jeongguk, he’s your imprint. You don’t think that goes both ways?” Namjoon had a slight smile on his face, almost amused if not for the fact that this situation was deadly serious.

“Huh?” Jeongguk lifted his head leaving his hands in his lap, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Have you been listening? Soulmates, remember? You think someone can have a one sided soulmate? Imprints go both ways, you big dumb baby alpha.” Namjoon shoved Jeongguk in the shoulder, relieving some of the tension in the room like a hole in a water balloon.

“You’re fucking kidding right? My god, I feel like you’re telling me I can knock up a dude all over again.”

“That’s still a thing, yeah.” Yoongi laughed dryly. 

“Why can’t you just look him up, what’s his name?” 

Jeongguk coughed and licked his lip rings, he probably hadn’t said the name aloud save for maybe during his ruts, in years. This throat felt tight around the syllables.

“Jimin. Park Jimin, and there’s probably like a million Park Jimin’s in Seo-” He rushed out breathlessly as if getting his name off his chest was like ripping the seal on a floodgate for reasons why he couldn’t find him before Namjoon cut him off.

“What did you say? Park… Jimin?” 

Namjoon’s eyes were wide, giving Jeongguk the strangest look of bewilderment.

“Nevermind, where’s your fucking year books, Gguk? He’s in there right?” Namjoon was up and off the couch stalking to Jeongguk’s bedroom before he could even respond. 

Jeongguk and Yoongi trailed behind the taller, who seemed like a man on a mission, going straight for Jeongguk’s bedroom bookshelf and scanning the spines until he had found exactly what he was looking for. 

“Uh, he’d be in my junior year one, he was a senior then. But I don’t see how --”

Namjoon was already flipping through the pages like a man possessed, finding the section that contained the color senior photos and scanning the names until his fingers found pay dirt, a gasp fell from his lips.

He flipped the book around and rushed over to Jeongguk practically pushing the page into his nose, “This is him? Park Jimin?”

Jeongguk backed up until his eyes could focus on the photo of the beautiful blond whose smile didn’t reach his eyes, eyes Jeongguk could never forget. 

“Y-yeah, Jimin, that’s him.” His heart tugged painfully, he hadn’t looked at his picture in a long time. It always ended up hurting more than it was worth.

“ Jeongguk. What the fuck! This is Taehyung’s best friend!”

“Taehyung, the -- the guy you’re pining for in your lit class?” Jeongguk said trying to wrap his mind around it, he was suffering from extreme brain lag. 

“Yes!” Namjoon practically yelled. 

“I-I uh, I don’t…” Jeongguk’s head was swimming again and he was feeling a little dizzy. He dropped hard on his ass on the edge of his bed staring blankly in front of him, unsure of what it all meant.

Namjoon tossed the book aside and grabbed Jeongguk by the shoulders, “Gguk, if Tae’s Jimin is your Jimin, then that means, fuck, it mean’s your problems are solved! All I need to do is text Tae and he can give you Jimin’s number and --”

“And what?” Jeongguk cut him off, shaken from his stupor and locking eyes with Namjoon’s slightly wild ones. “Just because I know how to contact him now doesn’t change what I did to him, I fucked it up back then. And I’m a wolf. Nothing has changed, hyung. He won’t want me.”

“Yah, you fuckin’ idiot.” Yoongi slapped Jeongguk none too gently upside his head, “He’s your imprint, he will want you. Biologically you’re it for each other. And even if we’re wrong, which we’re not, you absolutely need to try to talk to him. You don’t have a choice in the matter. I’ll fucking drag you to his door step knocked out if I have to. Joon’ll help me, won’t you?”

Namjoon nodded emphatically. 

“Fuck!” Jeongguk cried out, flinging himself back on his bed and pulling a pillow over his face so he could scream.

“Are you done?” Yoongi asked dryly. 

“No.” Jeongguk's muffled mutter came a few moments later from beneath the dense fabric. “...Yes,” he finally mumbled and slid out from under his pillow, red faced and spent. He took a deep breath and tried his best to explain his frustration.

“I can’t just show up at his door, you know. You’re both acting like this is so simple! Imprint this and imprint that, like he’ll even know what the hell that means for me. You’re asking me to take away his own choice and jam myself into his life. What if he has a boyfriend? What if he thinks I’m hideous? What if he thinks I’m a freak?” 

Jeongguk was tired, too tired to even begin to plan out a future where he could just fit seamlessly into Jimin’s life after being absent for so long. 

“You get more ass than the whole of SNU combined, so I don’t think your face is an issue.” Namjoon scoffed. “And as for the rest, you can give him a choice, of course you can. But no one is going to be better suited to him than you, that’s the whole point. I’d be hard pressed to imagine a scenario where he rejects you. You’ve probably been on his mind the same way he’s been on yours since you met.”

“How can you just know that?” Jeongguk tries to argue, but it comes out sort of meek and small sounding. Afraid and feeling defensive, his walls built to protect himself felt fragile and precarious, like one wrong move in the wrong direction and he’d crumble. They were just expecting him to trust them, and he supposed he did, so why was this so fucking hard to let go of?

“Because I just do, dipshit.”

“Fine!” Jeongguk flung his hands up and slapped them down on the bed pushing himself to his feet. “For fucks sake -- I’ll try to reach out to him. But, ugh, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know my name. And I can’t just text him. What the hell would I even say? ‘Hey Jimin, remember that guy you sucked off in the closet back in high school? No, not that one -- the one who was sobbing like a baby and then ditched you covered in cum? Yeah it’s me, my name’s Jeongguk, surprise I’m your soulmate. Also, I’m a fucking werewolf. Wanna be mine forever?”

Yoongi just raised an eyebrow at Jeongguk’s antics and ignored him, “Joon, how fast do you think we can pull a party together?”

“I have my group chats from school, could spread the word pretty quickly. Could do tomorrow probably. My place right? How big are we talking?”

“Not too big, big enough that we can invite Tae and Jimin and make it not seem like a set up.”

“Wuh?” Jeongguk uttered dumbly as he watched the two put their heads together like evil masterminds. Which, let's face it, they were. 

“We’ve got Jimin covered, you just show up and let it happen, alright?”

“This is so cursed. A fucking house party meet cute with a werewolf? Just put me out of my misery already.”

“You’re so damn dramatic, give it a chance. You’ve got literally nothing to lose.”

Jeongguk let out a strangled breath, Namjoon was right even if Jeongguk was petrified, he had nothing left to lose.

“Al-alright,” Jeongguk managed.

~*~💋~*~

“Jin hyung, please I’m begging you --”

“I can’t Jimin, you know I wish I could help but it’d be wrong to give out his personal info.”

“I don’t need much, I’d settle for his first name.”

“Jimin,” Seokjin leveled him with a rare serious look, “I can’t.”

Jimin wanted to pull his hair out, the identity of his obsession was being dangled in front of him but fucking club policies were getting in the way. 

He placed his hands on the desk that Seokjin primly sat behind in the club lobby, just so he wouldn’t be tempted to actually yank his hair from the roots and throw fists of it at Jin for depriving him of what he needed. 

“Why are you so gaga for him? He’s hung, amiright? Aish, never mind, I shouldn’t ask. Gotta maintain professional boundaries and all that. He was hot, though. I’d let him hit…”

“I-I’m in love with him. I think,” Jimin stammered, the tips of his ears burning at the words he had never said aloud, feelings he never formulated into a sentence before but felt… right. He knew that sounded absurd, but what other word could he use to describe the feeling? 

Being obsessed with someone for years, longing for them in more than a sexual way, feeling the desperation to be with him deep in his bones. It may not have been love, not exactly, but nothing else seemed to encapsulate the feeling considering his inexperience with the emotion. 

Seokjin gaped at Jimin, his eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. “Love? Was his cock made of gold?”

Jimin let out an impatient huff, “Yes, no -- look, I know him. Or knew him anyway, in high school. He was my first love, only love actually.” 

“But… you don’t know his name?” He sounded incredulous.

“It’s complicated, but yeah, I don’t know his name. I’ve been hoping I’d run into him again for years but I had nothing to go on.”

“And you knew it was him from his cock alone? Man, I really gotta see what all the fuss is about.”

“Hyung, please…” Jimin begged again softly.

The older sighed, and prodded his tongue in his cheek, “I can’t give you his name, but what I can tell you is that he’s in college. SNU, to be specific. Now be gone,” he waved his long fingers dismissively with a light sniff, “your desperation is making me frown and I don’t want to get wrinkles.” 

Conversation over.

Jimin sighed.

He was no closer to finding him but at least he had another factoid to file away under ‘the scant amount I know about closet boy.’ 

So far the file contained the following; Has tattooed fingers on his right hand including a poorly drawn emoji, cock = huge, tastes like magic, smells like what dreams are made of, at least 5’9 or taller (based on high school memory), is younger by one to two years, has a shiver inducing deep and velvety voice, knows the song Blow by Jackson Wang, big fucking eyes, is probably the LOML, and goes to SNU.

SNU made a lot of sense, it explained why Jimin never saw him enter as a freshman at the Hankuk orientations over the last few years. It narrowed him down from 1 in a million, to about 16 thousand, which was progress he supposed. 

Seokjin frivolously shuffled some paperwork behind his desk as if to appear tremendously busy, putting it into a file folder and spinning around on his chair towards the file cabinets behind him leaving Jimin to his own devices. 

The new membership sheet was just lying there, half obscured, it would take barely any effort to grab it and reveal the name of the newest member. Jimin sneakily lifted a corner, glimpsing a single initialed signature on the bottom corner before Jin was moving to turn around, he yanked his hand back like it had been bitten and scurried away.

He didn’t get to see his name, but he saw his initials, a fat lot of good that did him. Still, he repeated them over and over in his head like they’d fill in their own missing letters if he did it enough.

JJGK.

~*~💋~*~ 

JJGK… Jeong, Jung, Jeon, Jang…? 

His surname could only be one of a few, but Jimin knew a dozen people with a J surname as it was, so of course that didn’t really help.  

Ugh.

“Oh Jiminie, my sweet beautiful bestie…” Taehyung’s melodic sing-songing voice pulled Jimin from his perpetual mental loop as he popped his head inside Jimin’s bedroom without so much as a knock. 

“Hmm?” Jimin blinked up at him, cuddled up in his blankets, unshowered and still in his pjs -- it was 3pm on a Sunday, whatever, he could mope if he felt like it. 

“You know how much I love you right? And how nicely I massaged you that one time, and um, how much I let you snuggle me when you’re feeling needy? And listen to you talk about how much you love cum and don’t even barf?” Tae’s voice was dripping with sweetness as he slid into the room fluidly like he was made of weightless ribbon dancing on a breeze. 

He was a whole mood, honestly. Naturally, Jimin was highly suspicious. He wanted something, that much was obvious.

“Uh. Oddly specific but sure.”

“Well, Namjoon invited us to a party tonight and I really want to go,” he said with a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

“Then go, what’s stopping you?” 

“He invited us both, and was pretty adamant that you come too. He said he has a friend that knew you in high school and really wants to see you to catch up.”

“Oh, now I’m for damn sure not going.”

“But Mimi!” Taehyung whined, “I can’t disappoint Joonie, what if it’s the night he finally gets the courage to ask me out? Come on, I’d do it for you!” He shoved Jimin’s knee’s petulantly, a tantrum ready to be thrown any second. 

“Tae, you know how it was for me in high school, there’s literally no one I would want to see again.” 

Save for one.

“Please? I’m begging you! You need this too, you don’t socialize anymore and it’s not healthy. What’s the harm in going to a party? If it sucks ass we can leave okay? Just do me this one favor.” 

Jimin let out a long winded sigh, Tae wasn’t wrong. Outside of class and the club, he had basically given up on going out or doing any of the normal things like hanging out with people besides Tae and Hoseok or enjoying a decent college rager.

“What’s this guy’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Jeongguk I think?” Tae opened his phone and double checked the messages. “Jeon Jeongguk, do you remember him?”

Jimin blinked, once, twice. 

The name wasn’t ringing a bell, not that it meant much, Jimin barely remembered anyone’s name’s from school. But that wasn’t what had his heart suddenly beating double time. 

“Jeon… Jeongguk?” 

As in J eon J eon G gu K?

Jimin shook his head in a daze.

No fuckin’ way.

“I-Is he… uh, do you know if he goes to school at SNU?”

“No? Should I ask him?” Taehyung moved as if to type out the question in his texts.

“No!” Jimin blurted out, in a rush to stop him, “Um, d-don’t worry about it. Tell him we’ll come.”

“Yes! Thank you Mimi, I owe you one!” Taehyung threw himself on top of Jimin’s prone body and hugged whatever part he could manage, wriggling exaggeratedly with excitement. “Shit, what are we going to wear?” 

~*~💋~*~

Namjoon’s place was supposedly pretty lux for your typical broke college student. Not many people got the opportunity to live off campus in the first place let alone in an entire house with no roommates. His parents owned it, of course, but they had moved back down to Ilsan where he grew up.

Jimin learning this in the 15 minute cab ride to Namjoon’s while Taehyung gushed about the guy the entire time, giving Jimin ample useless information to distract himself from the idea that he may possibly, if the fucking stars had aligned, be on his way to see JJGK.

Because what else would it be besides entirely kismet? What were the chances that Namjoon would have a friend with the same initials that knew him from high school, and wanted to see him to ‘catch up’? 

Fucking slim, that’s what. 

Jimin didn’t dare to fully hope, but he couldn’t help but vibrate with nerves all the same. 

There was also a strong possibility that whoever this Jeon Jeongguk was had probably been some guy that either had a crush on him that he never noticed or more likely that he had sucked off at some point or other, not bothering to commit the event to memory. 

He had tried to forget everything about high school, faces, names, the whole sordid thing. And it had worked pretty well, maybe too well considering he had no idea who Jeongguk was while the other seemed to know him well enough to remember him years later. 

He was still working on forgetting his father, who made it a lot harder by inserting himself in Jimin’s affairs to this day. Buying him his own apartment and paying for his college just as another cover for control over him, keeping him under his thumb all the while appearing like an upstanding politician providing for his son’s future. 

Complete bullshit was what it was. 

He couldn’t wait for the day he graduated, and was no longer reliant on his father’s money and influence and could tell him to get fucked to his face and disappear altogether.

One could dream. 

And he was dreaming, but for now it was of something that made his heart hammer against his ribs, and chest feel tight. 

Dreaming that ‘Jeon Jeongguk’ would walk into the room, locking eyes with Jimin through a mass of warm bodies, and he’d see the deep wide eyes of the boy from years ago. 

No matter how much he had changed, Jimin knew he would recognise his eyes. Bottomless pools that reflected light like stars, a whole galaxy fit beneath long dark lashes. 

If Jeongguk was who he hoped he was. 

God, what if it really is him?

The notion was starting to make Jimin panic. His fingers were digging painfully into the flesh of his thighs, the fabric of his black skinny jeans bunching under his fingers. What would he say? What would he do? What if --

“Oi, Jimin! We’re here!”

Jimin blinked a few times and steeled his nerves, and leaned over Taehyung’s lap to peer out at the house with a tight grimace on his face. The windows were lit up from within and multiple shadowy figures moved around behind the blinds while muted deep bass reverberated from inside. 

Yup, looked like a party.

Fuck me.

~*~💋~*~

Jimin was remembering viscerally why he didn’t usually go out to parties, because parties were full of horny dudes and Jimin was something like an addict on the wagon, the club being the only time he allowed himself to indulge his cravings. Even after having had a hit of exactly what he had craved yesterday for the first time in years, he was feeling the burn under his skin stronger than ever. Especially when he was getting more than a few hungry stares as he moved through the masses towards the drinks, Taehyung pulling him impatiently behind by the hand.

He could feel eyes follow him, and it felt like high school all over again. 

He should have dressed more casually, instead choosing a flattering body hugging deep teal velvet top that contrasted nicely with his pale skin and natural black hair, which was loosely styled and pushed back behind his ears. 

His black skinnies made his ass pop and his thick thighs strain against the material while a pair of ass kicking black doc’ martens gave him a much needed extra inch or two of height. 

The ensemble was paired with a chunky silver necklace, numerous rings, and his ears held pretty teardrop pendants that sparkled.

He wore a little makeup, eyes subtly enhanced with a smokey taupe hue, skin moisturized and glowing, and his pout was tinted a dusty rose color; tldr, he looked fucking hot and it was kind of a problem. 

Normally, he’d be all sweater paws and oversized t-shirts, a disguise in some ways as much as a shield. He tried to not draw attention at school, and dressing down was his best defense from temptation. Tonight though, he dressed to impress, just in case. Just for the one he hoped he’d meet again.

He was yanked into the kitchen, Taehyung already snatching red solo cups from a sleeve and like a mad scientist went about pouring way too many different things in each until Jimin could no longer describe the murky color his drink was besides a shade that screamed ‘hangover inducing’.

“Go hard or go home, I always say.” Tae smirked as he shoved the cup in Jimin’s hand and tapped their cup rims together in salute, sloshing the overfull mixtures inside dangerously. 

“You have always said that,” Jimin deadpanned while grimacing at the hideously colored drink he was apparently expected to drink.

Tae eyeballed Jimin over the rim of his drink until he reluctantly followed suit by taking a cautious swig. 

Okay -- so it wasn’t awful, but it burned the entire way down to the pit of his stomach. It kind of felt good actually, distracting in a pleasant way from other kinds of annoying burning sensations he felt at the moment. 

“You know I used to be a bartender,” Tae quipped, taking a larger sip of his own drink in turn. 

“Barista does not count, you liar,” Jimin laughed, feeling a teensy bit of his trepidation melt away under the warmth of the alcohol.

“Same thing -- in the art of Mixology, I’m an expert.”

“It kind of tastes like poison, though.” Jimin made an exaggerated frown while taking a braver gulp to quench his nerves further. 

“Yeah, but did you die?” Taehyung questioned smugly with a grin.

“That’s literally the bare minimum,” Jimin griped, finishing off the rest of his drink despite his protests. “More poison please, I need to be properly inebriated before we find Namjoon and this… old friend.” 

Jimin held out the empty cup and shuddered belatedly from the potent drink now making itself known in a slight tingle throughout his limbs.

Taehyung was happy to oblige, mixing up another drink, this time with entirely new ingredients with no discernable rhyme or reason. 

Jimin didn’t bother questioning the concoction, and just like before tasted the drink that looked like shit and somehow wasn’t too bad. 

Maybe Taehyung was a mixologist after all.

Jimin pretended it sucked anyway, just so Taehyung wouldn’t get the satisfaction of Jimin enjoying it. 

Before long, Tae had already finished his drink, had slapped together a third and was practically buzzing. Jimin shooed him away with a flapping dismissive free hand, assurring Tae he’d be fine for a few minutes. He was obviously eager to find Namjoon, so he didn’t object too hard. Which was how Jimin found himself alone for the time being in the kitchen cradling his solo cup like a security blanket and scrolling through his phone one handed so he didn’t have to talk to anyone. 

Unfortunately for Jimin’s distaste for socializing it didn’t take long for someone to slide up next to him, bumping his shoulder casually with their own.

“Jimin-ssi, never expected to see you here.” 

There was a slightly familiar lilt to the upbeat voice, he looked up from his phone mildly startled.

“Oh, er…” Jimin recognised the guy from a class he had last semester, average in most every way but not unattractive, with memorable freckles that sprinkled across his small nose. His name on the other hand was coming up with zilch in his head. 

“Heesung,” the guy assisted Jimin’s terrible memory. “We had that Economics class together.”

“Right.” Jimin blushed a little, the booze wasn’t helping. “That class sucked ass, I barely remember taking it, if I’m being honest.”

Heesung chuckled, his laugh was light and easy. He didn’t seem offended that Jimin didn’t remember his name either, which was nice. “I don’t blame you, Professor Yu’s course material wasn’t exactly riveting.”

“Professor Yu?” Jimin laughed too, “I forgot his name already.”

The exchange was friendly, Heesung had a little sparkle in his eyes though, and Jimin wasn’t blind. He could tell the other was interested by the way he kept looking at Jimin’s lips instead of his eyes.

“So, how have you been? I think I’ve been to a half dozen parties at Namjoon’s and never seen you at any of them. Not into the scene?”

“I’m good? My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out. Says I’m too unsocialized, which is unfortunately true. Plus he needed a wingman, so here I am.”

“You say ‘good’ like it’s a question,” he responded, brushing aside the rest to probe Jimin a little more personally. 

“No, I’m good. Yeah. I just don’t get out much.”

“Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking,” he implored gently, turning his body to face Jimin slightly.

It seemed an innocent enough question, though Jimin could feel his guard coming up. Heesung’s proximity, the drink in his system, the way he was looking down at Jimin’s lips, it was all setting him a little on edge.

“I think, um, I’m just trying to stay focused is all. I just want to keep my head down and get college over with, if that makes sense.”

“You’re missing out on all the best parts then,” Heesung poked Jimin good naturedly, or maybe it was just to put a finger on his chest. Jimin pulled back a bit, he hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“Best parts? Like getting pissed drunk and passing out so someone can draw a dick on my forehead?”

“Or just letting loose, enjoying yourself, the people, the experiences that you don’t really get a chance to indulge in later in life,” Heesung responded with a coy smile.

“I think I’ve indulged all I need to for one life,” Jimin said, only realizing a moment too late he was letting a little more slip than he probably should have.

Heesung raised his eyebrows with a little grin, “Not interested in indulging a little more?” 

He moved to run his finger over Jimin’s arm, like something out of Seduction for Dummies. The touch made goosebumps rise on Jimin’s skin, but not because he liked it.

“No, I’m not.” Jimin’s tone was plain and clear, he moved more obviously to put some space between himself and Heesung, not really interested in being nice any longer. Heesung wasn’t being too pushy yet, but Jimin was over being used at this point in his life and wasn’t about to send him any mixed signals. He didn't owe Heesung his time or his body just because the other had made it fairly clear he was interested in him.

Jimin had learned to take back his autonomy, his choices were his own now, even if they were fueled by confusing and painful addiction. 

Unfortunately for Jimin, Heesung wasn’t getting the message. He grabbed at Jimin’s wrist, holding him a little too tightly for it to be friendly.

“Wait, uh, I just thought maybe…”

Jimin tugged his wrist away, Heesung thankfully let him.

“Maybe what? I’m not here to get laid, if that’s what you’re trying to get at,” Jimin stated curtly, his eyebrows knit together and jaw tensing.

“No?” Heesung’s voice had a sharp annoyed edge to it, like there was something else he wanted to say but was holding back.

“Like I said, I’ve indulged all I care to at this point in my life.” Jimin folded his arms across his chest, feeling indignant at Heesung’s implication. 

“So then, what, you’ll only suck cock when it’s annonymous and through a fucking hole in the wall?” His eyes had darkened, he was angry, entitled. His face losing every ounce of that friendly warmth, like a mask had been pulled away revealing him fully for the first time. 

“W-what?” Jimin’s stomach plummeted. He was certain the blood had left his cheeks, all of his warm buzz wearing off in an instant. 

“You heard me.” 

“How did you--”

“You really think people wouldn’t figure out it was you? Your mouth is a lot more memorable than you think.”

“Keep your fucking voice down,” Jimin hissed, his eyes darting to the couple of people sharing the space of the kitchen, busy rummaging through the fridge for more beer. 

“Why should I? Afraid of people finding out that perfect little Park Jimin is a famous cock hungry whore?” 

Jimin abandoned his drink and pulled Heesung from the kitchen towards the hallway, pushing open the first door and yanking him through before closing it with a slam. The room was dark which unnerved Jimin but he was too pissed to worry about finding a light switch. His eyes adjusted slowly to the dim with the help of a window across the room filtering light in from distant street lamps, giving everything a subdued murky glow. 

He wasted no time stomping up to the other who was standing haughtily in front of the door with his arms folded across his chest. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jimin barked angrily, standing toe to toe with the other. Smaller framed he may be but he wasn’t about to let the other make him feel weak. 

Heesung didn’t back down, his face twisting into an oily smirk that would be hard to make out if it weren’t for how close they were. “I don’t know, maybe I’m a little insulted you’re acting so pious suddenly. Do you even know how many times I’ve already blown my load in your pretty mouth? You didn’t seem to be complaining then. In fact, you sounded like you loved it.” 

“You -- you’re fucking sick. My life, and my choices are none of your fucking business. You had your fun, now leave me the fuck alone.” Jimin spat, this guy wasn’t even worth tearing a new asshole. He was ready to go find Tae and get the hell out of this party. He shoved Heesung aside without waiting for a response to reach for the door.

“I’m sick? Really?” Heesung pushed back, blocking Jimin’s way. He squared his shoulders, pressing forward toward Jimin aggressively with his arms dropped to his side, suddenly Jimin was feeling like being alone with this guy was extremely stupid and reckless. “I think you should maybe think about what kind of depraved little slut you’d have to be to get on your knees and suck the cum from dozens of guys a week.” Heesung sneered, voice dripping with disdain.

He moved forward, one step at a time, with Jimin retreating until his knees were backed against the plushness of a bed. “At least I’m getting something out of it. What’s in it for you, huh? Just like to be on your knees? Like being treated like a cum dumpster?” 

There was a distinct note in Heesung’s tone that broke Jimin into a cold sweat, dark and insidious, paired with his imposing stance as he seemed to cage Jimin against the bed with his words alone. Jimin hated how the words struck a chord, how true and ugly they were. He hated how scared he was. He hated how small and insignificant he felt. Bile rose in his throat, burning and acidic. 

“Stop it, j-just let me go, okay?” 

“Why? You seemed so eager for me last night,” Heesung drawled, leaning forward until Jimin was recoiling with his ass to the mattress and placed his hands on either side of Jimin’s thighs with a dangerous grin. 

“Because I don’t fucking want to!” 

Jimin tried to roll away off the bed, but Heesung was fast, snagging his wrist and pulling Jimin back towards him hard. Jimin’s heart was beating out of his chest, he sucked in a sharp breath from the ache in his wrist and struggled against the iron grip he was locked in but Heesung didn’t let him go, not this time. 

“You say that, but I don’t believe you. I think you want someone to put you in your place, someone to make you take it. It’s what you were made for, don’tcha think? Go on, get on your knees, unless you’d rather I blow your cover instead of my load in your mouth.” His grip on Jimin’s wrist was bruising, pinning him in place as Heesung seemed to slither onto the bed, pressing his weight into Jimin while the smaller twisted and struggled beneath him to no avail. 

“I said no you fucking asshole, get off of me!” Jimin screamed in Heesung’s face, pushing with all his might against his weight that was on top of him, ready to fight to his last breath.

He hoped against hope that someone would hear him, that Tae would come looking for him when he noticed he wasn’t in the kitchen any more, but Tae was probably busy with Namjoon and the music was too loud and Jimin knew there was no luck left for him, not this time. 

Even if Jimin didn’t feel like luck was on his side, luck seemed to have found him regardless when suddenly the bedroom door practically flew off its hinges, crashing open and hitting the wall with a hard thwack that sounded like it probably left a hole. Light from the hallway burst into the dark room as someone rushed through the threshold at breakneck speed. 

Heesung froze like a deer in headlights before his body was literally tossed across the room, slamming into a dresser in a daze before slumping to the floor with a groan.

The assailant was so fast Jimin barely had a second to register the man who had come to his rescue, back to him as he stalked over to the heap on the floor that was Heesung, he cowered as the man yanked him up by his shirt, another hand around his throat, and let out a literal roar in his face.

Jimin blanched, the animalistic sound making his every hair stand on end. It wasn’t but a heartbeat before Jimin could make out a cluster of people in the hallway compelled to investigate the tussle, Jimin saw Namjoon amongst them.

“Joon, get this piece of shit the fuck out of your house before I take his goddamn head off!”

The man threw Heesung from the room like a ragdoll into the hallway as people scrambled to dodge him, Namjoon catching his battered body by the shoulders and wordlessly dragging him, barely coherent, out of sight. 

A smaller guy lingered in the hall, eyeballing Jimin’s huddled shape at the end of the bed and flicked his eyes towards the man who was still heaving from the altercation with his back to Jimin.

He nodded with furrowed brows towards the stranger as if conversing wordlessly and reached inside to pull the door shut, encapsulating the room in shadows once again with Jimin and the man left alone. 

All that could be heard now was harsh breathing, labored and heavy, that sounded more from anger than exertion.

Jimin unfolded himself, sitting up a little straighter, trying to get a sense of who the hell the stranger was.

The tension in the room seemed electrically charged, the air tinged with potent emotion, it swallowed up the air until all Jimin could breathe was the ferocity of the other’s intense wrath.

He almost felt cowed, in any other circumstance he felt like he should have been shrinking in on himself with the vibe the other was emitting. The other exuded a pure dominance, so powerful it seemed to bleed into physical sensation. But instead of being frightened by it, Jimin felt a deep sense of protective energy. He felt no threat at all, irrational as it might be, he felt safe.

The man had come to his rescue after all.

“T-thank you,” Jimin stuttered, clearing his throat, feeling incredibly jittery after everything.

The other seemed to flinch at the sound of Jimin’s voice, still unable to turn to face him but his breathing appeared to be getting more even, calming some.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice startlingly soft and quiet now. He turned towards Jimin but kept the distance between them, his features still obscured in the low light. All Jimin could make out was that he was tall, his frame oppressive, wide shouldered and muscular. As if his strength hadn’t been obvious by the way he manhandled an entire adult man like he weighed nothing. 

His voice sounded too tender for someone so big, his tone gentle perhaps in an effort to not spook Jimin. It was familiar but Jimin couldn’t place it yet. 

Jimin shook out his limbs, testing his wrist and rolling it back and forth where Heesung had yanked it. It was a little sore but seemed alright.

“Yeah, I guess. Uh, it’s not the first time someone had a hard time taking no for an answer. I’m kind of used to it at this point.” Jimin downplayed, his natural inclination was to simply accept these kinds of things as common place in his life, as fucked up as it sounded.

The other let out a tremulous rumbling sound, cut off at the end as if he was trying to hold it in. “That’s so fucked Jimin.” 

Wait, he knew Jimin’s name? 

“You shouldn’t have to get used to people trying to use you like a goddamn toy!”

Jimin froze, a multitude of alarm bells at once going off in his head as the other’s voice registered more clearly. 

It all hit Jimin at the same time, like a lightning rod of realizations. He blamed his ridiculously lagging brain on having been dangerously close to being more than just physically assaulted moments prior.

Even through the clear aggravation of his words, there was no mistaking the cadence at this point. How had he not recognised that voice? That fierce animalistic growl, the energy in the room, the way he felt somehow safe in this stranger's presence, like he knew him?

“Jeongguk?” 

Jimin stood up from the bed in an instant, the other going stock still, shadowy features still yet to be discerned but he didn’t deny the name to be his. Jimin could almost make out the sound of his breath picking up speed as if his heart was racing just like Jimin’s was. 

Jimin moved slowly towards the taller, the difference of their height becoming even more obvious as he closed the distance. Other things became clearer as Jimin approached him; his face was downcast, dark mussed hair an inky obstruction falling across his forehead and into his eyes.

“Please, would you look at me?” Jimin asked quietly, but his voice was steady and surprisingly strong considering how badly he was trembling.

Slowly, the other lifted his head. Despite how murky and dark as it was in the room, it couldn’t hide the familiar large round eyes from Jimin’s sight. Startling, haunting, and as beautiful as Jimin had remembered. 

“Jimin…”  

He said his name like a prayer, and Jimin’s knees shook dangerously at the sound of it. He rushed forward and threw his arms around the taller, fisting his hands in the hair at the back of his head, a broken sob shaking loose from his chest. The taller wrapped his arms around Jimin’s smaller form in an instant, holding him tightly, making him feel like he was encased in a cocoon of pure safety and contentment. 

Gone was the itch under his skin, the burn in his throat, the lingering yearning for something he couldn’t put into words. Years of misery were forgotten in an instant like the haze left over from a bad dream. All he could feel was the hard planes of Jeongguk’s chest against him, sculpted yet yielding; the heat of his body, warming Jimin to the tips of his toes. 

If there had been any doubt of the identity of the one holding him so tightly, it was squashed the second Jimin inhaled his scent with a hiccuping breath. Pure relief filled him as he nuzzled his nose against Jeongguk’s throat, absorbing the familiar notes of rain soaked earth and sweet fields of lemon grass. His vetiver aroma was like coming home, like comfort and love rolled into one. 

His scent wasn’t as strong now, not as Jimin remembered it had been in the closet all those years ago. It wasn’t permeating the room around him but it was still there, like the soft skin of his neck naturally smelled that way, subdued and muted but clear as day.

His neck wasn’t as strongly scented as his cock was either. Jimin suppressed a shudder of misplaced arousal just thinking about the difference. Maybe it was more concentrated there? He ignored the reminder of having tasted him just the night prior and concentrated instead on the strong arms that held him so reverently. 

With their chests pressed together, not an inch of space between them, finally Jimin felt the dam break. Years of pent up longing and angst spilled out of him in a tumultuous wave, shedding it like a husk until he finally felt free at last. It was cleansing, the tears flowing burned his cheeks yet from the ashes he felt born anew. 

He finally had him, here in the flesh, and it was everything he never knew it would be.

It wasn’t hot burning lust, or a need to tear his clothes to get a fix. It was so much better, instead, it was utter peace.

Did Jeongguk feel the same? Had he longed for Jimin too?

It was unspoken as of yet, but Jimin couldn’t help but feel like this was an emotional reunion for them both. When he had agonized over what he would say or how he would react if he had ever gotten the chance to find him, he never imagined that they would have come together without barely an uttered word, finding comfort in each other's arms like pieces of a puzzle.

Easy and familiar.

But it couldn’t possibly be so simple. There was so much they needed to talk about, so much that Jimin needed to say, he just couldn’t form the words. Nothing felt succinct enough, nor important enough to interrupt the quiet serenity that had fallen over them both.

Jimin didn’t want to come up for air, or maybe it was the other way around, Jeongguk felt like oxygen and he didn’t want to go back to struggling to catch his breath. How had he lived without breathing him for so long? Surviving was one thing, but it wasn’t really living. Jimin had been stuck in a perpetual cycle of just barely making due. Not really knowing it was as simple as being held by someone he had genuine feelings for. 

It wasn’t the fucking cum, God.  

It sounded so absurd in his head when he thought about it. It was this. This man, the boy from years ago who really saw him, branded his gaze on Jimin’s still heart, shocking it to beat only for him. His proximity, his warmth, his eyes, his scent. Just him. He could literally feel the way their hearts were syncing together, rhythmic and steady perfection.

Jeongguk slid his hand up Jimin’s spine until he was pushing his fingers through the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, cupping Jimin’s head against his throat, as if encouraging Jimin’s content nuzzling. Not needing to be told twice, Jimin let out a low groan of appreciation, dragging his nose along the smooth column of his skin until Jeongguk shivered and Jimin felt rumbles reverberate from him against his chest.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Jeongguk whispered, his voice thick and breathy. It cut through the air like a heated knife through butter, making Jimin melt accordingly. 

Jimin’s nuzzling turned into slow soft kisses against his skin, tentative, gentle, no attempt to escalate, only consumed with the silkened skin against Jeongguk’s throat, and wishing it was his lips instead.

He had often imagined kissing the younger, remembering how he had brushed his fingers across Jimin’s lips those years ago in a surprisingly sweet way despite how overcome he had been at the time, taking just a moment to appreciate Jimin’s lips for something other than how they would wrap around his length.

They had never gotten to that point, with Jeongguk fleeing as soon as he had the chance when they finished. Jimin tried not to dwell on the abrupt end of their past experience together, especially in these blissful moments. Jeongguk had likely been very overwhelmed. At the time he was so young and still innocent, probably unable to grapple with what they had experienced together. It would have been a lot for anyone and he didn’t really blame him. Though, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened had Jeongguk stayed, had he let Jimin hold him after, the way he had wanted to. He would have given him anything.

He would have let him be his first real kiss, his first time.

It was ironic that despite all Jimin had done, he still could.

Besides a brief peck or a platonic smooch with Taehyung, Jimin had never been kissed. There had been times he had lips pressed against his in an awkward or mechanical fashion that emulated the action -- but an actual kiss? 

Jimin had no idea what it felt like. 

What would it be like to slide his lips against someone in earnest, molding his mouth into a shape that encapsulated another? Pressing against yielding supple mounds, and teasing against the seam between to dive in for a taste.

But he wouldn't know. He had never dated, and didn’t feel emotionally invested in anyone either. He thought he simply didn’t have an interest in it.

Only now he realized he had been waiting for someone that he wanted to experience it with. So obvious in hindsight. 

He managed to make it all the way to this moment, the point where he was finally reunited with Jeongguk again, still technically a virgin, still waiting to give him his firsts’ just as he had promised him years ago. 

Jimin didn’t want to touch on the fact that it felt like he had already given him the moniker of his first love. He wasn’t sure Jeongguk even felt that way, but something about how he held him made Jimin think maybe the feeling was mutual. 

‘I wanna be your only,’ Jeongguk had uttered then, on the edge of delirium, and cast Jimin under his spell. 

‘Only yours,’   he had responded, his own agreement sealing his fate.

Jimin was entirely his, and had been since that moment.

“You're all mine,” Jimin whispered into Jeongguk’s skin, using the taller’s own past declaration to cast a spell of his own.  

Jeongguk nodded into Jimin’s hair, “I’ve always been yours, hyung.”

~*~🐺~*~

End of PT 1