Work Text:
This was not entirely how Namjoon envisioned his night ending.
Truthfully, he never really allowed himself to properly date. His smarts meant that he excelled in school and that meant that he graduated a year before time and since then, he’s had his nose buried in textbook after textbook, choosing the hell that is double-majoring while working a full time job. It also wasn’t helpful when he’d decided to throw hook in his own life and go to law school. His last relationship was quite the failure for several reasons — Namjoon was divulging in everything that was not his girlfriend and he had some issues with possessiveness. And yeah, maybe he should’ve known that he was too preoccupied with other aspects of life to love somebody, but it didn’t give her the goddamn right to cheat on him, especially with an ex-best friend that he’d known all throughout college and had presumed to be gay this entire time.
So when Yoongi offered to set him up with this great guy he knows, Namjoon was on the fence about it. He has since worked on the issues with possessiveness after much lecturing from a few people he knows, but he still hardly had time to cater to his own needs. He’s got back problems, a broken ankle that didn’t heal properly because he never learned the definition of rest and a permanent cramp in his left wrist from repetitive motion of using his hand for certain unfortunate and lonely wanks.
It didn’t take long to agree to the date.
The guy was hot, right up Namjoon’s alley. His name was Mingyu, tall with this hair that was dyed in this unnatural, platinum color and fell to his shoulders. Kind of lanky, but just the right amount of arm muscle to dig your fingers into while you’re getting your back blown out. Majored in business and is working on his own entrepreneurial ventures. They’d met in a club which was suspicious as is, but Yoongi had nothing but good things to say and Namjoon’s never been one to doubt his hyung’s word.
As appealing as his educational track record was, Namjoon was just floored by how fucking attractive the guy was, kinda stirring in his pants just from a simple photo.
It’s really been a long time.
Yoongi had passed his number on and Namjoon had been texting the guy for a few days and he was fucking everything Namjoon wanted. Funny, intelligent, a sort of dry sense of humor that Namjoon could relate to — it was perfect.
And then the date from hell happened.
This guy was a real fuckwad. The biggest dick, an egotistical maniac. The whole date was either spent ridiculing Namjoon for choosing to do something good like becoming a fucking lawyer who just wants to keep good people out of prisons instead of starting a company to sell sodium-rich energy drinks that’ll do nothing but swell your goddamn ankles, or talking about his own achievements. Not once did he ask about Namjoon’s interests or desires or life goals. Didn’t even have the decency to ask how his fucking day was. So entitled and self-serving, so full of himself that he might as well be fucking hismelf with his own dick.
So he did what any person trying to maintain their sanity would do — he politely smiled and excused himself to the restroom and hauled it out of that expensive ass, uppity ass restaurant and sent Yoongi a profuse amount of clown emojis and caught a cab to downtown Seoul with absolutely no thought in mind of where he was going to go.
Naturally he ends up at the bar in a club. A high-end spot that’ll probably put a dent in his wallet but a bar nonetheless.
Long Island iced tea nearly gone, Namjoon’s trying to reiterate the events of the night to a shocked Yoongi when the pretty bartender clears her throat in an effort to gauge his attention. He obliges with a curious raise of his eyebrows but then his gaze slides to the tall glass being sat in front of him. It’s the same drink, and while he appreciates her attentiveness, he wasn’t necessarily ready for a second.
He has to lean forward and shout a little just so she’ll hear him over the pulse of the beat. “I—thank you, but—I didn’t order this.”
“Oh, I know,” She deadpans and Namjoon’s face falls. She gives a curt nod toward something to the left. “He did.”
She leaves to serve a new customer and he stares after her for a second seconds before frowning down at the drink. Still confused but oddly endeared because this is the type of shit that only happens in the movies, he twists in his chair and cuts his gaze in the general direction the bartender, or Soojin, he’d learned, notioned to.
And fuck. Holy fuck.
Namjoon has had his fair share of gawking at attractive people. He’s surrounded by them and he’s never been subtle about appreciating good looks. But he can safely say that until this night, he has never seen a person so beautiful that the entirety of his mouth goes drier than his hand when he’s out of lube. The sheer fucking beauty of this man has hit him like a ton of bricks, a heavy unbearable weight that settles on his chest like stacks of pure iron. Thick lips wrapped around a skinny straw that sticks out of a fruity looking cocktail and this hooded gaze that does something to his dick. That’s the kind of look you give someone before you rip their fucking clothes off.
And honestly? This semi he’s sporting would definitely not protest.
The button down he wears, dark and sheer, hangs open enough to expose a decent amount of chest, an expensive looking chain stopping just above his collarbones. He doesn’t need to stand from his stool for Namjoon to see that his thighs are almost positively bursting from his jeans and he has a strange urge to sink his teeth into them.
Wow, cannibalism? he thinks. It’s been a while but fuck .
He goes through a mental back and forth. Does he give him a smile of acknowledgment and shout a thank you? Does he get up to do it? Does he just act like this didn’t happen and not accept the drink?
But then he doesn’t really have to worry about that because mystery sex-on-legs is already making his way over.
Can you, like, marry a person’s walk? Make love to it? Because holy fucking god, this man should be on a runway, or at least in one of those expensive fashion catalogues, but definitely not in this bar trying to converse with somebody like Namjoon.
“Hi.” It’s a simple greeting, literally the most simplest greeting but just the sound of his voice - honey smooth and grating against his bones, Namjoon feels a little lightheaded. He nods at the stool next to Namjoon and asks, “This seat taken?”
He wants to point at his lap and ask is that one? but Namjoon tells his dick to calm the fuck down and manages a soft, “N-no, not at all. Go ahead.”
Sex-on-legs does, sliding onto the stool with what looks like graceful, practiced ease. He kind of moves like water now that Namjoon is letting himself look a bit closer, smells a lot like some expensive cologne he can’t put a finger on but he likes it a lot.
“You look like you’re in dire straits.”
Namjoon comes down at that, feeling a puff of air being knocked from his chest through a heavy sigh. He slides the fresh drink a little closer to himself and laughs, asking, “I should work on my poker face then.”
“It’s a pretty handsome face, I think I like it as is.”
Namjoon startles a bit and then cuts his eyes. Sex-on-legs is just smiling at him, and fuck if it isn’t the prettiest sight Namjoon’s ever seen, all bright and pretty like diamonds. He flushes and looks at the glass, at the condensation that glides down the sides. That’s kind of how he feels right now.
“Bet you use that one often.”
“Would it make you feel some type of way if I said yes?”
Namjoon thinks for a second and then he shrugs. “I guess not? It still made me feel good, so…”
Sex-on-legs hums and then cuts his eyes to Namjoon’s drink, obviously some sort of cue. Namjoon blinks and then lets his gaze slide back to it. He clears his throat a little awkwardly, palms all clammy and he makes a strangled sound that’s supposed to be a chuckle. “I—I’m sorry for being so awkward, I just—” He trails off, because what the fuck is he actually trying to say? It’s not necessarily the most attractive thing to spill your life story to the random guy who you kind of sort of would definitely like to feel up on, especially not in this context. Instead, he settles for something a little less lame. “No one’s ever bought me a drink before.”
Sex-on-legs looks startled by this information. “You’re joking, right?”
“I mean, I don’t usually—this isn’t my usual scene so that might explain it.”
Shifting on the thick cushion of the stool, his lips wrap around the straw again and Namjoon can’t help but follow the movement. They look soft, plush-like, like they’d feel good against his thighs.
The glass clinks against the bar as sex-on-legs sits it down and he smiles again, a little lazily this time. “What’s your usual scene then?”
“My bedroom,” Namjoon says. “With my nose in a shitty Law 101 textbook.”
Sex-on-legs giggles and Namjoon swears it sounds like bells. Can he please pick a narrative? He can’t handle sexy and cute. “You’re a student, then?”
Namjoon smiles a little and then finally moves to take a drink. He’s fucking parched and it’s this guy’s fault. “Yeah. Only one more year of law school to go and then I can finally say I spent my twenties doing something useful.”
There’s a little clicking sound, presumably his tongue followed by an impressed hum. “So, smart and attractive. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but you’d be the whole package if you’ve got a big dick.”
Namjoon chokes and suddenly he’s got whiskey feeling like it’s two seconds away from squirting out of his nose. Honestly, he shouldn’t be so taken aback by those words because of course people come to the bars to look for quick fucks but… goddamn, this guy holds his tongue for nothing. He’s had plenty of one-night stands, a lot of which he regrets because he was kind of used as a human fleshlight but throughout all of his history of casual sex, no one has ever been so blunt.
He doesn’t even realize sex-on-legs is patting his back in a comforting way until he finally gains all feeling back in his limbs and nearly falls into that one little touch. He heaves and his throat burns but mutters a small thanks and instantly regrets it because the hand leaves him.
“So you’re a bold one,” Namjoon wheezes. He manages to catch the bartender’s eye and she raises her eyebrows in this suggestive way that makes him heat all over. Whipping his gaze away, he casts a curious but cautious glance toward this flirtatious piece of man and wills himself to calm down. “Shouldn’t I at least know your name before you say things like that?”
“I just know what I want,” He shrugs and then his lips curve into a smirk. “And it’s Jimin. Park Jimin.”
Pretty name, he thinks, like you. “Namjoon. Uh, Kim Namjoon.” And then he licks his lips, daring to ask, “You want my dick?”
Jimin blinks a few times and then he just lets out a breath of air, a laugh tucked away somewhere in the sound. “I mean, I was kind of going with just wanting you but… yeah, I guess that’s definitely where I was going with that, huh?”
“You don’t even know if I’m into guys.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have accepted the drink if you weren’t.”
Namjoon shrugs and tries to play nonchalant but it’s clear that Jimin is seeing straight through his bullshit. “I mean, who turns down free alcohol?”
Jimin’s tongue wets his bottom lip and Namjoon shifts in his chair, eyes subconsciously following the movement. He’d made a terrible mistake of wearing his nice slacks tonight, the ones that make his ass look, and quote in Hoseok’s specific words, “Wow. Holy shit, I—you got a fuckin’ train back there, Joon”, because they’re too fucking tight in every form of the word and if he gets any harder just from basic intellectual stimulation, Jimin’s gonna be able to see his—well, see the very thing he wants.
“Well, if that’s the case then feel free to turn me down.” Jimin says, and Namjoon’s subconscious immediately screams, no! God, no. I’m a grown ass man and I don’t beg for sex but it’s been so long and I’ll cry — “I apologize if I read the situation wrong.”
“You—you didn’t! Really, I-I'm like to think of myself as a pendulum,” Namjoon blurts, and at the casual raise of one of Jimin’s eyebrows, he wants to suddenly step on his own toes. “I kinda—I go both ways. Always have. Yeah.” He curses under his breath and squeezes his eyes shut. “Wow Namjoon, please shut up.”
Jimin chuckles again and turns away for a second, casting a glance to the dancefloor, all nasty and stuffy with sweaty bodies and fast hands. It’s a crowd that he looks like he’d fit right in with, dripping with a deadly type of sex appeal that’d have everyone falling at his feet, men and women alike.
Finally, he sighs and looks away, doesn’t comment on it. “Rough night?”
Namjoon deflates. “More like rough life.” His shoulders shake a little with a laugh that’s void of humor, because that’s how sad his life has gotten. “But, yeah, I guess the night has a lot to do with it.”
“Mmh. You wanna talk about it?”
“You bought me a drink,” Namjoon says. “Listening to me complain is a terrible expression of gratitude.”
“You’ve already had one and it’s clear the alcohol isn’t doing much to solve the problem.” Namjoon really hates how true that is, how smug Jimin looks while saying it. “So maybe letting it out will.”
“You want me that bad that you’ll sit and listen to me cry about how sad my love life is?” Namjoon jokes, but when it’s out in the open he realizes it’s not as funny as he’d thought. Jimin’s eyes hold this genuine concern and Namjoon doesn’t know if he should be pleased or annoyed because it’s probably pity or at least something similar. He lets out a long and pained sigh. “I’m not cruel enough to burden you with that.”
“I really don’t mind,” Jimin stresses and the worst part is that Namjoon knows he means it. He doesn’t think this guy has a bad bone in his body, let alone an insincere one. “But if it’s sensitive then by all means—”
“It’s not,” Namjoon cuts in. He taps his fingers against the side of the glass, utterly shocked and enthralled by how patient Jimin is with him. Anybody else would’ve walked away by now, deemed him a lost and sad case. Kind of makes him wondering why Jimin isn’t doing the same, especially when he looks like this, all silver hair and lean muscle and pure fucking sex. “I just—I went on a date with this guy that my friend set me up with and it was such a waste of my time. Like, I genuinely feel ashamed that I let myself be in the same fucking room with that guy.”
“That bad?”
“Honestly,” Namjoon begins, twisting to stare at Jimin with this bland look. “He was hot as hell so I really had my mind made up that I was gonna at least suck some dick tonight. I literally used throat numbing spray! He was so cocky that he might as well have been deepthroating himself. Holy fuck, what a scumbag.”
Jimin scoffs a little and rests his elbow against the bar, leans a little closer to Namjoon. He thinks he can pick the perfume out now. Some nice ass Saint Laurent shit.
“And you said your friend set you up with him?”
“Pretty sure my friend’s never seen this side of him because if he had, they wouldn’t even be associating with each other. My hyung, he—he hates people who can’t be humble.” Namjoon takes another drink, a long one this time, so large of a swig that his brain spins a little. “Bet they won’t be friends after tonight. Which is his fucking loss, Mr. Entrepreneur, because my hyung has a shit ton of connections, and he will be getting none! Serves that bastard right. Couldn’t even ask me how my day was. You know, I had a shitty day and I deserved to rant about it.”
“I hope you hightailed it out of there.”
“Oh, I did. Pulled the classic ‘gotta use the bathroom’ trick and never looked back.” Namjoon gripes and Jimin lets out a genuine, long laugh at that. Namjoon kind of forgets what they’re talking about for a second and loses himself in the sound, in the way Jimin’s hand—so tiny!—comes up to cover his mouth. He finds himself smiling along, laughing with him even though he wanted to cry an hour ago. “I most definitely was outie 5000.”
Jimin calms down a few seconds later, lets out a lingering sigh. But then he tilts his head to the side and says, “Good. That contemptuous asshole didn’t deserve your mouth anyway.”
And it’s the way he says it, the way his voice drops low and gets this certain rasp to it that makes Namjoon shiver and press his thighs together. Honestly, with the way this shit seems to flow out of him like water, the way he can so easily fall into a conversation with Jimin makes him forget the premise that brought the silver-haired male over in the first place. But there it is, all the hot arousal like a punch to the gut.
Seemingly spurred on by that reaction, Jimin gets a little closer, in Namjoon’s little bubble and if it were anybody else he thinks he’d hightail it out of here, too. But he stupidly feels a sort of comfort here, like he’s in a safe and equally as horny place, caught like a mouse in a trap. A small hand comes to rest against his thigh, fingernails dragging and he gasps a little, a sound that’s barely there but probably rings just as loud in Jimin’s ears.
“Pretty mouth,” He awes, tucking his lip between his teeth, releasing it with a soft pop. Plump and wet, Namjoon wants to lick it. “Bet you’re good with it, yeah, Namjoon-ssi?”
“I-I’ve yet to hear a complaint,” He breathes, more of a wheeze because fuck, when’d the air get so stuffy? That formality really went straight to his cock and latched on, all tight and probably leaving a nasty stain.
Everything’s moving like a blur. Namjoon can feel the heat of the bodies as they flock to the bar, the hike in volume with the sudden influx of voices but all he can see is Jimin, just tunnel vision for this pretty stranger who’s probably gonna make his entire fucking night. There’s a smirk curling his lips, one that probably speaks volumes for whatever the fuck Namjoon’s in for once they get out of here, because there was never a question about it, starting from that moment the bartender slid that drink his way.
He’s definitely going home with Jimin tonight.
“Mmh, you got dressed up all nice for some self-absorbed prick who probably wouldn’t even be able to do you right.” Jimin croons. His fingers get a little curious, moving over the swell of Namjoon’s thigh to the waistband of his slacks, shirt all neatly tucked in. He hums and lets his hand wander, up and over the skin of his stomach, up his chest. He sighs then, eyes fluttering just softly and when they open… fuck, when they open they’re blazing.
“God, you’re fucking fit.” Jimin marvels, still feeling him up, fingertips leaving fire in their wake. “So firm and hard.”
The words tumble before Namjoon thinks to stop them. “I’m definitely hard.”
Something flashes in Jimin’s eyes - maybe curiosity or arousal, maybe both. He doesn’t tease this time, just let’s his hand go straight to his crotch. He gets a thick handful of Namjoon’s erection, strained and so hard that it hurts for Jimin to graze him.
“Fuck, I was right,” He breathes, and Namjoon can’t even find it in himself to be ashamed by the fact that he’s totally being fondled right now in the middle of a public atmosphere, too focused on the prospect of not blowing it like a teenager because it’s been that long since someone else touched him.
He’s not sure what gets him shivering more; the hot breath against his ear or the words exhaled through it.
“Knew you’d have a big dick, Namjoon-ssi.”
And then he bites him. Fucking bites his earlobe.
His moan is a loud and shameless thing, and that’s new. One thing he’s never been is vocal, whether he’s on the receiving end or not. He’s thankful for that pulsing beat and the clinking of beer bottles because it masks it well, a sound only for Jimin’s ears.
And apparently, it’s good enough because he nips his ear again all whilst the heel of his palm digs into the outline of his cock, a rough rhythm with so much friction that it feels like pins dragging over his skin. He lets out another sound, eyes falling shut at the way Jimin hums his appreciation against his skin, the way he nuzzles in close with his lips dangerously close to the heated skin of his neck.
Kiss me, he wants to beg. Just fucking kiss me.
“Sound so pretty too. Oh, he just doesn’t know what he missed out on, does he?”
Honestly? Mingyu hasn’t been a thought in his mind since Jimin started saying all that filthy shit about his mouth. And really, the mood is so fucking good right now that he thinks absolutely nothing could kill his boner, could squash this euphoric type of high he feels right now.
“Thank God for this rough night, yeah? One man's loss is another man’s treasure, and I think I hit the fucking jackpot.”
Jimin seems to read his mind then, lets his lips press against the column of his throat. His lips are just as soft as Namjoon imagined, kisses delicate but well practiced. Some tongue joins the party, a little bit of teeth and it doesn’t take much calculation to realize what Jimin’s doing.
Fucking hickeys. He’s giving him a hickey like they’re teenagers.
He’s really gonna blow in his pants.
“Shit,” He whispers, but Jimin hears it all, swallows the sound up.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck, Jimin, I’m—” He doesn’t finish the sentence because there was no thought to it. His mind is just Jimin, Jimin, Jimin - the beginning, middle and end.
“Tell me what you want, Namjoon-ssi,” Jimin drawls, all silky and sultry and too fucking hot. Namjoon tries to close his legs, press his thighs together because it’s too much - this body heat, this touch, this man, but Jimin just pushes them back apart, wedged there like some sort of warning.
“I—I really don’t wanna cum in my underwear, Jimin.” He exhales it nervously, slumping to the side. They’re getting some looks now, but with this alcohol and this burning desire, Namjoon thinks he could handle anything.
Except Park Jimin, that is.
“That sensitive, baby?”
Namjoon does it. He fucking whines, because it’s a word of endearment, something that should make him feel all warm and giddy but the way Jimin says it sounds so scandalized, so dirty and lewd.
“Just—just been a while. And you’re g-good.”
“How much you got in the tank?”
Namjoon’s eyes widen. “I’m—w-why?”
Jimin grinds a little harder and the intention becomes abundantly clear.
He fucking wants him to mess himself. He’s grinning about it like it’s some sort of joke, like it’d bring him nothing but joy to know Namjoon lacks that much self control.
Fuck, there’s something so hot about that.
“Jimin, I’m gonna—Wait, fuck, I’m—”
“Come on, sweet thing,” Namjoon appreciates how calm Jimin’s remained throughout all of this, how he works so stealthily and relaxed. Makes Namjoon wonder just how many times he’s done this to make it seem like they’re just a little too into each other but nothing that gets too rated R.
“Cum for me.”
The little coil snaps and the bliss settles in like a deep haze as Jimin slams his lips against Namjoon’s, swallowing down those little sounds of his, hand stroking discreetly over the outline of his cock while white wets the cotton of his briefs.
Jimin’s lips feel even better when they’re against his own, taste a little like cherries and vodka. A damn good kisser he is, a arguably the best fucking kisser and Namjoon’s wondering where the fuck this was when he was twenty and horny.
Not that being twenty-five has really made a difference when it comes to his rampant sex drive.
Jimin kisses him until he’s breathless, pulling back with this hooded gaze and wet lips. Namjoon can’t really see straight, and he doesn’t know if that’s because all of the pleasure came to a staggering halt or if he really had too much to drink.
Either way —
“Let’s get out of here,” He whispers, and he swears he’s never seen anybody move faster than Jimin when he scrambles for his card.
Neither of them drove so they tumble their way into a cab, all handsy and gross and Namjoon’s pretty sure they’ve scarred the driver by the time he pulls up to the curb of his place.
Unsurprisingly enough, Jimin lives in Gangnam. He’s probably got a nice ass king-sized bed, one that they’d make a mess of for sure but Namjoom really doesn’t have the patience to go those extra forty minutes without properly getting his hands on Jimin.
They stumble through the door of his apartment, mindlessly and lazily trying to kick off their shoes and somehow stay attached. Jimin’s hands are everywhere — in Namjoon’s hair that he thought was growing too long bjt Jimin can’t seem to stop fucking tugging at it, over his shoulders and then down his chest to tug his shirt from his slacks. Namjoon’s lips are hot and rough against his own, sucking up the little gasps and noises that Jimin moans into them.
“ Fuck,” Jimin breathes, pressed flat against him, fingers dragging over his scalp in a way that gets him growling at the sensation. “Baby, shit —where’s your bedroom?”
Jimin squeaks when Namjoon just handles him like a rag doll, hoisting him up until his legs wrap around his waist and fucking moves like he’s never moved before to get to his bedroom.
He’s gonna have to thank Yoongi for that shitty ass date.
They almost break the door from the hinges with the way they burst through it. When Jimin’s back hits the bed, Namjoon is on him with fervor he’s never possessed before.
“I’m s-sorry,” He gasps out somewhere in between their desperate kisses. “It’s—I’m sure you’re used to nicer environments—”
Fingers tugging at his collar, Jimin moans out against his mouth, “Do you always overthink?”
“Chronically,” Namjoon heaves and then dives back in for more.
They go on like this for a while, sloppily making out until Jimin finally says, “Off, off. Fuck, why are you not naked yet?”
“Could say the same for you,” Namjoon grunts, hands gutting between Jimin’s body and the mattress, sliding down his back to cup the roundness of his ass. “God, why’s your ass so fucking fat?”
“Is that a complaint I hear?”
“O-only—oh, fuck, ” Namjoon gasps when Jimin rolls his hips, and unsurprisingly he’s rock hard again. “Only be-because it’ll make it really hard to get these fucking jeans off of you.”
He lets out a choked sound when Jimin suddenly pushes him off, laying back on his elbows with this fucked out expression, tongue lolling out to lick at his lips. His shirt is messy, the remaining buttons having been ripped open and Namjoon can see an expanse of hard muscle and just the idea of how fit Jimin must be underneath these clothes makes him twitch in his pants.
“Strip for me, sexy. Gimme a show.”
Namjoon shoots him a look but is quick to oblige, fingers flying to the messy buttons of his shirt. “C-can’t guarantee it’ll be the best strip tease of your life.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” Jimin huffs our and then he softly moans at the sight of bare chest, the shirt easily sliding from Namjoon’s shoulders. “That’s it, gorgeous.”
“I’d much prefer to watch you strip.”
“Patience, darling.”
“That’s the fourth pet name tonight.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Are you keeping count?”
Namjoon‘s lips part to respond but he unceremoniously slips on the hardwood floor while trying to step out of his trousers. He manages to right himself with a few curses and some unstable hopping on one foot, but freezes with one leg out of his pants at the sound of soft giggling.
Somehow with all that slick skin showing and hair all messy from Namjoon’s fingers, Jimin looks innocent like this with his shoulders shaking and eyes narrowed into tiny little crescents.
“Tha-that’s so embarrassing.”
“You’re so cute. ” Jimin breathes the praise out easily, and Namjoon can’t help the little tingly, warm feeling in his chest. “God, I wanted to fuck you senseless but I think I wanna cover you in kisses even more.”
Namjoon blushes hard. “This is usually the part where you’d go soft. Me and all my clumsiness.”
“Isn’t sex supposed to be fun?” Jimin asks, head lolling to the side. “I think it’s very endearing.”
Namjoon pouts. “I’m supposed to be impressing you, not embarrassing myself.”
“Oh, I’m very impressed,” Jimin’s gaze goes hungry again, raking over Namjoon in a way that makes him visibly shudder. “The quicker you get those pants off, the sooner you get me naked.”
Namjoon’s never moved faster in his life.
“Mmh,” Namjoon mumbles against Jimin’s lips, because somewhere along the line Jimin had tugged him back down once he was left in nothing but his underwear. “M’briefs are crusting up.”
“Guess that means you have to take them off, hm?”
Namjoon shakes his head, kisses Jimin again and then starts working on these skintight fucking jeans. “Gotta get these off first. God, I just—I need to see your ass so bad.”
“You just gonna look at it?” Jimin grits, lifting his hips so that Namjoon can tug the fabric over the curve of his ass, waiting with a smile that Namjoon doesn’t really know how to decipher but he does know that it’s surely not a good one.
“No, I’m—” and then he gets it, what that wicked little smile was for.
Jimin isn’t wearing any goddamn underwear.
“Oh, you fucking vixen. ”
Jimin grins. “Plenty more where that came from.”
Namjoon wastes no more time, struggling a little to get the material over the muscular form of Jimin’s thighs and off his legs but he might as well drop to his knees to worship as soon as he gets an eyeful of milky skin, soft and smooth, and nestled against his stomach is a thick and pretty cock, flushed and sticky at the tip.
“Shit,” Namjoon breathes. “Is every part of you pretty?”
It’s the first time all night that he’s seen Jimin look bashful. He closes his eyes as his cheeks heat and looks away, mumbling, “S-stop that.”
Namjoon gently rests his hands on Jimin’s knees. He admires him for a moment, awed by his sheer beauty because holy fuck? He’s not religious at all but whoever the fuck is reigning upstairs was most definitely being too good to him tonight.
“Gorgeous.”
“ Namjoon ,” Jimin whines, head tipped back and thighs spreading on impulse. “You’re stealing my line.”
“ Beautiful, ” Namjoon corrects and that just makes Jimin moan again. “That sound better? And call me hyung. I’m literally looking at your dick, don’t be so formal. Can I ask you something?”
Jimin gasps a little when Namjoon places the most chaste of kisses to his inner thigh. “You-you just did.”
“A do over, then.” He bites at his flesh and Jimin’s chest bows like it’s caught with a hook.
“Fu-fuck. Yeah, go ahead, hyung.”
“How do your balls not chafe?”
Jimin’s eyes peeled open within seconds, slow and drawn out and utterly confused. “What ? ”
“When you go commando. Like, how do they not chafe?”
Jimin looks a little astonished, but there’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “I—It’s never been an issue for me. Is that really what you’re thinking about?”
“Not at all,” Namjoon manages, definitely more concerned with the way he salivates every time he gets an eyeful of Jimin’s cock. He has no idea how they’re doing this - if he’s doing the usual topping or if for once, he’s gonna get the railing of his life.
But that isn’t important right now.
What’s important is —
“Can I suck you off?”
Jimin easily melts into a lazy smile. “Was I not obvious enough?”
“I should still ask,” Namjoon admonishes, crawling closer, ignoring how nasty his briefs feel right now. “It’s important.”
He lowers himself onto his belly, Jimin’s thighs safeguarding either side of his head. From here, he sees it all - the swell of Jimin’s balls and how they’re tinted slightly pink, the roundness of his cheeks and a smooth perineum that probably leads to the prettiest asshole he’s ever seen in his life.
He takes his cock around the base, admiring the size. Jimin is more thick than long, would fill him up just right.
That throat numbing spray better not fail him now. He’s on a fucking mission after all.
He starts slow - licking up the side and pursing his lips to suck along the skin. It drags a shudder from Jimin who’s pushed himself up on his elbows to see, eyes already going dark. He seems to like that a lot so he moves to pay the other side the same attention before settling at the tip, suckling and nursing while his fingertips caress the skin of his thighs.
“Fuck,” Jimin whispers, jaw slack and eyes hooded. “Oh, that’s—oh, that’s nice, hyung.”
Namjoon has never necessarily been the most confident in his blowing abilities because he, unfortunately, caught on later than everyone else that he was just as into men as he was women and hasn’t had much experience. He’s spurred on by Jimin’s reactions, the way the rise and fall of his chest becomes erratic and the sudden flush in his cheeks.
He moves down the length of his cock with some slight hesitation, easing his way into it with Jimin’s gentle coaxing and the fingers that are lightly carding through his hair. It becomes easier and easier with each bob of his head and he hollows his cheeks when he realizes it sucks a particularly sharp and pretty sound from Jimin’s bitten lips.
Jimin groans when he pulls off, eyes fluttering open in slight confusion. When Namjoon smiles, he’s quick to return it, lips puckering on impulse when he moves in close.
They meet in the middle, a tender and warm kiss and Namjoon moans a little as they separate. “You taste good.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. Gonna get the lube, alright? I wanna try something.”
Jimin just nods and balances himself on one elbow, free hand wrapping around his cock. He strokes slowly and loose with his lip pulled between his teeth and Namjoon curses, on his wobbly knees and awestruck at the sight.
Suddenly remembering what he’s supposed to be doing, Namjoon scrambles off of the bed and to his dresser, tugging open the first drawer where he keeps an obnoxiously large bottle of lube. It’s half-empty embarrassing enough, but he’s sure Jimin is too horny to comment on his endeavors.
Back on the bed in an instant, he works quick to uncap the bottle so that he can slick up his fingers. He’s working diligently, or at least he thinks, when a hand on his wrist stops him.
He looks up to meet Jimin’s eyes, dark and blown but still unbelievably tender. It’s the opposite of the calming effect Jimin probably wanted it to have, making his heart skip a few beats in his chest.
“Hey, you’re shaking.”
Namjoon swallows and looks down. He hadn’t even realized.
“I just really want this to be good for you.” And I kind of want to see you again and can’t do that if I’m awful. “I don’t want this to be a waste.”
Jimin smiles, warm and bright and in the situation it should feel oddly out of place but it provides Namjoon with a sense of comfort that feels familiar. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you chronically overthink, huh?”
Namjoon has the decency to huff out a laugh. Between Jimin’s thighs, he’s still rock hard, never waned once. It’s astounding that he’s stayed this long. “Sorry. Bad habit.”
“Don’t apologize.” Jimin says. He releases Namjoon’s wrist in favor of hooking an arm beneath one of this thighs, pulling it toward his chest. Namjoon marvels at the way he stretches like it’s no issue at all, how he’s so fluid and smooth. “Are you going to prep me?”
“I-I’d like to? If that’s—if it’s okay,” Namjoon quickly mumbles, stress levels hiking again. God, he’s never felt so many conflicting feelings at once during sex. It was just fucking and then you go. But this… this feels different somehow.
“Mmh, you have nice hands.” Jimin compliments, “Long fingers. Of course it’s okay.”
Namjoon curses when he sees Jimin’s hole for the first time - puckered and bare, the prettiest pink. It flutters around nothing, clenching and relaxing and Namjoon’s cock twitches at the sight, at how tight he looks like he is. Failing to not spill an excessive amount of lube into his sheets, he slicks up his fingers and brings them to Jimin’s rim, pressing gently against the muscle but not enough to breach. Jimin sucks in a breath at the feeling, chin dipped down and lips parted. Namjoon meets his heated gaze and nearly gasps at the insensitt he finds there, hot and heavy like his erection trapped inside of his boxers.
“Ready?”
“Yeah,” Jimin breathes, nods furiously. “Go ah-ahead. Please.”
Namjoon gently coaxes the first finger inside, past the tight ring of muscle and the two of them let out harmonious sighs of contempt.
“Oh,” Jimin gasps as Namjoon pushes deeper, slides inside all the way to the knuckle. “Oh, that’s—wow, your fingers are really fucking long.”
Namjoon panics. “Is that—is it okay?”
“ Yes, fuck,” Jimin nods, biting harshly on his lip, breaking the skin. “Mmh, yes, that feels so good.”
Namjoon works slow but efficiently, dragging that one finger out and pushing back inside, feeling the heat of Jimin’s walls around him. He doesn’t know how long it’s been for him but it feels like some time, or maybe Jimin is just always this fucking tight. And if so, oh what a fucking dream that must be for anyone who gets to love him.
“Good?” He asks after a moment and Jimin answers with a soft, contented sigh, small smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah, ‘s good.”
“Can you take another?”
Jimin hums and wiggles his hips. “Mmh, yeah.”
Namjoon presses the second beside the first and Jimin’s reaction is instantaneous. His back arches and he huffs out this intense sound, pulling his thigh back even further. He could nearly bend in half.
“Wow, you’re flexible.” Namjoon murmurs. There’s endless possibilities there. He kind of hates how eager he sounds about it, but Jimin looks blissed out by the compliment so he brushes the feeling off.
“Ye-yeah, I dance,” Jimin gasps, letting out a soft string of curses. “Used to do gym-gymnastics too. Oh, fuck, I can’t do this.”
Namjoon immediately freezes as Jimin moves to sit up. His stomach begins to turn with something sour and he questions softly, “Did I do something wrong?”
Jimin wheezes out a breath, looking fucked out for the first few seconds and then he seems to go through a whirlwind of emotions. “What?” Happiness, confusion and then realization. “No, I—oh god, I didn’t mean it like that, hyung. I just—let’s do this together.”
It’s Namjoon’s turn to frown. His eyes slide to the lube and then back to Jimin. “You want to…?”
“Yeah. I wanna watch if that’s—if you’re into that. And okay with it.”
“Fuck , I am so into that and more than okay with it.”
“Good,” Jimin mumbles, already reaching between his thighs to collect the excess mess at his hole. He glides his fingers through it easily and then pushes two inside with ease, moaning out sharply. “Because I really wanna fuck you.”
“Oh god,” Namjoon groans and is quick to roll himself into his back, lifting his hips to peel his underwear off. Jimin’s gaze is heavy as he does so, jaw going slack as soon as Namjoon’s cock springs from the material, lightly covered in a dry layer of translucent residue.
“You’re big,” Jimin praises the second Namjoon wraps a hand around his shaft to give a few quick strokes. It’s an easy slide with the remaining lube on his fingers but not enough to open himself up. “That’s gonna feel so amazing inside of me.”
“I thought you were fucking me?” Namjoon is spreading his thighs and snatching the bottle of lube from the messy blankets.
“I am,” Jimin’s voice cracks on a moan, lifting his hips to feel his fingers deeper. “I’m— fuck, I’m gonna fuck you so good, hyung. Then I’m gonna sit on your cock and ride you until you cum inside of me.”
Namjoon shudders from too many things - the words, the visual and the sensation of his finger against his rim. He moans as he pushes forward, a little impatient as he slides all the way inside. He adopts a quick rhythm easily, only managing to mumble a small, “Youre gonna fucking kill me, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin’s body slouches where he holds himself up on one elbow, mewling softly, working his way up to three fingers now. Pupils blown, he looks at Namjoon with so much fucking want that the older male could combust just from the darkness in his eyes.
“Watch me,” He gasps, pushing the fingers deep and arching into the touch. “Oh, that’s it— fuck, wa-watch me, hyung.”
Namjoon just nods, thighs falling out to the side as he fucks himself on that one finger. He’s tried this before - the whole mutual masturbation thing but he’s never been with somebody as sexy as Jimin, as breathtaking. His cock has never been so stiff before, so sensitive to the touch and he really doesn’t want to cum again before he gives Jimin what he wants.
Jimin doesn’t look much better with his red lips and sweat slick abdomen. His cheeks are wet with the lube, messy and spread out and his fingers make the nastiest sounds where they push in and drag out. Namjoon doesn’t know what makes him want to die more, the way that Jimin scissors himself in time with Namjoon or the way he keeps staring at him like he’s ready to devour him.
Honestly, that would be a lovely way to go out. Fucking vore me, Park Jimin, he thinks to himself.
He’s so into it that it takes him by surprise when his fingers brush his prostate, letting out a soft shout at the sudden burst of pleasure. Jimin’s breath hitches at the sound, and Namjoon thinks if he had bunny ears or something that they’d be perked up right now.
“Fu-fuck, Jimin,” Namjoon moans, crooking his fingers just right to hit his prostate dead on, jolting with each little jab. “God, you’re so hot.”
“You’re fucking lucky, ” is what Jimin bites back, voice breaking. “Y-you can find your prostate so easily. My small fu-fucking fingers can’t do shit, I’m so jealo—ah !”
Namjoon doesn’t mean to laugh but it comes so naturally. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this relaxed with anyone during sex. He’s both endeared and relieved when Jimin joins him, a small smile breaking that grimace of pleasure before he snaps his neck back and lets out a long, loaded moan.
“Jimin, I—fuck, I don’t—”
“Yeah,” Jimin agrees, though Namjoon doesn’t really know what to, and then he watches Jimin as he pulls his fingers from his slippery hole, wincing as they catch on the rim. “This is fucking amazing but I’m not blowing before I know what you feel like.”
Namjoon groans, fingers slowing. He doesn’t let them slip completely, drawing the pleasure out with soft strokes against his walls. “You have such a way with words.”
Jimin chuckles, a dark and low sound that makes Namjoon peel his eyes open. Jimin’s pushed himself up on his knees now, working his shirt the rest of the way off of his shoulders.
“Holy shit, you’re a god.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow in this cocky manner but his face goes red. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“You should always be showered in compliments,” Namjoon is quick to say. He’s surprised by his own boldness and sudden softness, but the words keep coming. “You’re… you’re perfect.”
Jimin tilts his head to the side. “You don’t know me.”
“I think I know enough.”
Jimin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a brief second. When he opens them, they’re clearer but there’s a new twinkle there beneath the lust. He crawls closer on shaky knees and grips Namjoon’s cock around the base, dragging from base to tip, sighing at the feeling.
“Do you have condoms?”
“I-I do but,” Namjoon stutters as Jimin pulls back to look at him through hooded lids, hips bucking up into his hand. Jimin doesn’t really move now, just lets Namjoon take what he needs. “I got checked four months ago and I haven’t touched anybody since.”
Jimin shoots him a look and Namjoon blushes. “S-sorry, I just—I like the feeling.”
He breaks into a smile and then leans forward to kiss him, gentle and warm. “Me too,” He mumbles, nipping the skin with his teeth as he pulls away. “I’m clean as well.”
Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, that’s—that’s good.”
“Mmhm,” Jimin hums. “Come on, let’s maneuver a little.”
Maneuvering consists of Jimin manhandling Namjoon like he weighs nothing, and honestly, it’s a huge turn on. Big as he is, Namjoon’s got a thing for… feeling smaller.
Jimin has him at the edge of the bed on his hands and knees. He waits with baited breath, thinks Jimin’s just gonna lube him up and then slide inside. But Jimin seems to have other plans, mumbling something about how pretty his hole is and then there are hands gripping his cheeks to spread them and something hot and wet glides over his rim.
It’s been so long since he was rimmed that he doesn’t even remember what the fuck it’s supposed to feel like. But the feeling of Jimin’s tongue pushing deep inside of him to lick over his walls feels about as right as anything possibly can.
It’s over almost as quickly as it starts and Namjoon lets out a whine to express his distaste. That lands him a hard slap against his ass and he yelps, hips jerking and a frown on his face.
“Be still.”
“I—ye-yeah, okay, sorry.” Namjoon stammers because it’s such a hard fucking one-eighty that it nearly gives him whiplash.
But he’s… kind of into it.
He feels Jimin line himself up, and then there’s that hard, warm press of his cock against his hole. He holds his breath as he pushes inside, but it’s all punched out of him the second Jimin bottoms out with a groan.
Namjoon’s gotten his fair share of being fucked but nobody, absolutely nobody has stretched him like this, filled him up so well. Jimin’s fingers dig into his hips as he drags back and then slams forward again. Namjoon moans, jaw going slack because he feels Jimin everywhere .
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jimin grits out and then he really starts to fuck him. “Look so pretty around me, baby.”
It makes perfect sense that Jimin is a dancer. He fucks rough but fluid, enough precision in his hips that his cock brushes against Namjoon’s prostate after a few thrusts. It makes him fall forward with a loud moan, fingers gripping tight at the sheets and body falling limp. His heartbeat is in his ears, blood boiling hot like fire through his veins. Jimin’s hammering him, dragging him back down on his cock each time he slides forward and it feels it all the more deeper, could maybe feel it in his stomach if he put his hand there.
His ass is not gonna be the same after this.
“Oh—oh, fuck yeah,” Namjoon almost screams on one particular push of Jimin’s hips, feeling his cock hit all the way home, like a punch to the stomach except it’s against his sweet spot. He can hear Jimin groan his own appreciation behind him and he thinks that he could cum just from how good Jimin sounds. “Yes, yeah, yeah —”
“Yeah?” Jimin taunts, dragging a whine from Namjoon when his fingers press harder into his hot flesh, probably leaving deep ass marks. “You like this dick, baby?”
Namjoon’s head lolls forward. “ Fuck, you’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”
He hears the slap before he feels it, a lingering sting that goes straight to his cock. Jimin drives his forward until his hips are flush with Namjoon’s ass and he just stays there, playing with Namjoon’s hair, seemingly unconcerned with the way he whines and begs and pleads, and he doesn’t even know when that started but what he does know is that Jimin’s fucking snug against his prostate, heavy and so fucking hard inside of him that Namjoon’s losing all types of feeling in his limbs.
“I asked you a fucking question,” Jimin growls, and Namjoon feels his cock as it twitches, the way precum bubbles at the tip and spills over. He could almost breathe in relief when Jimin uncurls himself from around his body, hands back at his bruised hips now. “Do,” Namjoon’s body jolts from the force of the thrust, “ you,” Namjoon whines loud, eyes squeezed shut, “like,” He’s gonna fucking cum if Jimin keeps this shit up, “this dick ?”
“Yes!” Namjoon finally wails, every touch against skin like fire, desperate for that hot release and white behind his lids. “Love it, feels so good, you fuck so good—”
“Mmh, that so?” Jimin asks, and Namjoon just nods, not trusting himself to not beg like a little bitch for it. “You gonna cum, huh?”
Another fierce nods earns one last slap to his ass before Jimin is slipping from his hole with a wet sound, and Namjoon’s never felt so fucking empty before. Not even from the biggest of toys.
What type of demon dick is this?
“Roll over for me, hyung.” Jimin’s voice has that familiar softness to it again. Namjoon does as asked of him as soon as he can move again but this was just as much of a mistake as his date tonight.
Jimin looks fucking ethereal.
“You’re really pretty.”
The surprise on Jimin’s face is what makes Namjoon flush in embarrassment once he realizes what he’s said. Fucking inner monologue, always mixing with real life dialogue.
“Thank you,” He smiles a little bashfully, knees dropping down onto the mattress as Namjoon reaches for the lube to slick up his cock. “You’re sweet.”
“Not as sweet as you.”
“Corny, too.”
“Replace the c with an h and then we’re talking.”
Jimin throws his head back and genuinely laughs and Namjoon thinks that he likes the sound more each and every time.
Jimin’s eyes go dark again as he crawls and situates himself in Namjoon’s lap. He takes the reigns himself, reaching behind himself to take hold of his shaft at the base, a wicked smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do you well, babydoll.”
“That’s five,” Namjoon says, and Jimin just shoots him a knowing look before he’s lowering his hips. “O- oh. ”
“Mmh, yeah,” Jimin seems to agree, choking on a gasp with each inch that he takes, which is fucking all of it until his ass meets his pelvis. “Oh, fuck, fuck.”
“Not to be a teenager,” Namjoon grunts, “But I won't last.”
Jimin just shakes his head and brings his hands back to grab at his cheeks, spreading them. Apparently that does the trick because his head tips back and jaw drops.
Namjoon almost dies when he starts to fuck him.
He’s had some good sex before, great sex really. And to be honest, he’s got a bit of a crazy sex drive which seems crazy considering how infrequently he has hookups. Hasn’t got the best stamina but makes up for it in how quick he can go again. But that was just that, it was always him who had something to show off.
Jimin, though, seems to match him head on, and Namjoon thinks that his arousal, his desire… is actually going to be his cause of death.
Jimin’s so fluid and moves like water, bouncing so rough and hard above him but it’s smooth. His rhythm never falters, not the way that his breaths do, staccato and then gone before he moans out loudly. He’s so warm and wet and tight, so much so that he wouldn’t believe he’d spent a decent amount of time opening himself up.
It takes so much out of him to just let Jimin take, a little because he’s got this beautiful man on top of him and he wants to impress the shit out of him, but a lot because he’s been needing to cum again since he got Jimin’s dick in his mouth.
“Haven’t…” Jimin trails off, losing the thought to instead scream out, and Namjoon almost blows at the sound. “Haven’t ha-had a cock this big in so long. Ah, yeah, that’s—fuck, you reach so deep, hyung.”
Namjoon tries his luck and wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist, slides his hands over the curve of his back and finally down to the tops of his ass. Jimin moans and lets his own hands come to rest on Namjoon’s chest and the older gets a good squeeze.
This is the most unreal fucking ass. Like, how is an ass so nice? And how did he get lucky enough to be inside of it?
“Please.”
It’s Jimin’s voice, broken and raspy that drags him from his thoughts. His eyes are hazy, lips wet and red, and he looks like he needs exactly what Namjoon does - a few more pushes and then they’ll be free falling together.
“Fuck me. I-I wanna feel you, wanna feel you more.”
Namjoon nods, plants his feet into the mattress and obliges for what feels like the umpteenth time tonight.
He thinks he’s seeing a pattern here.
He doesn’t have it in himself to go slow, not when the sounds are so lewd and Jimin feels so good. The cants of his hips have Jimin groaning within seconds, legs trembling where they cage Namjoon’s waist. Namjoon thinks he’s shaking too but he can’t be sure, not when everything seems to be molding together, one thing bleeding into the next. Jimin’s pleasure feels like his own, is his own; burning red hot and unbearable. Each drag of his cock inside of Jimin brings him closer, wet heat bringing tears to his eyes and that is probably the strangest development of the night because he doesn’t… cry during sex. Just groans and sweats, like a lot.
But apparently he’s having lots of firsts with Jimin tonight. First time he’s ever let a guy rub him in public until he blows in his pants, first time he’s ever switched during sex.
Not the first time he’s gonna ask a one night stand to stay over, because he’s not an insensitive douchebag and also morning sex is nice, but definitely the first time he’s gonna ask them out for breakfast when day breaks.
“Hy-hyung,” Jimin’s eyes seem to mirror his own, wet with unshed tears. He’s bouncing so reverently, letting himself be fucked however Namjoon chooses, mouth slack like there was more on his tongue but it doesn’t come.
His hand is shaky as it cradles Namjoon’s face, thumb sliding over skin to press against his lower lip. He lets himself fall forward, chest flush against Namjoon’s. They’re a gross, sweaty mess but skin against skin feels nice like this, when it’s with someone like Jimin.
They share a smile, one that feels too gentle to be shared while Namjoon’s railing his ass, but it warms him all the same. Then Jimin’s face takes on a grimace of pleasure and it’s such a beautiful sight that Namjoon fucks up into him a little too roughly and Jimin cries out.
Namjoon panics. “Shit, are you—Jimin-ah, are you okay?”
Jimin’s laugh is croaky. “Chronic overthinker.”
Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief and slows himself down even though it pains him to do so. He laughs a little himself but then he whimpers a little because Jimin’s dragging his hips now, a sensual grind that sets every nerve ending on fire.
They’re so close, feels so intimate that he really might cry. How many different emotions can he fucking feel during one round?
“Hyung,” Jimin sighs and then he kisses him, slow and sweet and Namjoon loses himself in it, drowns a little.
Jimin’s eyes are clear when he pulls away, cheeks red and flush. Lips against his, warm and soft, he whispers, “Cum inside of me.”
Jimin pushes himself back up just in time for Namjoon to drive his cock all the way inside with a final groan, spilling over in the strongest orgasm he’s ever had in his life. The younger guides him through it, moaning with him and shallowly lifting and dropping his hips.
Namjoon peels his eyes open near the end of it. The oversensitivity is getting to him and he’s damn near ready to beg for Jimin to stop when he feels the first wet splatter against his abdomen.
Amongst many other discoveries of the night, Jimin is very beautiful when he cums.
He’s floating when Jimin kisses him again and then sigh it out in slight relief when he lifts himself off and rolls onto his side next to him.
The two of them lay there, staring up at Namjoon’s bland textured ceiling. It’s quiet save for their breathing, but Namjoon can still hear the wet slaps of skin and the melody of Jimin’s moans. He thinks he’ll hear it until he falls asleep and even then he hopes it carries on into his dreams.
“That was... wow. That was amazing.”
Namjoon makes a wheezing sound that’s supposed to be reminiscent of a laugh. “Fuck yeah, it was. I’ve never been more grateful for a bad date in my life.”
Jimin laughs and Namjoon immediately turns toward the sound to watch. Jimin is really pretty.
Seemingly feeling eyes on him, Jimin meets Namjoon’s gaze. His eyes are warm, gentle and twinkling beneath the moonlight that peeks in through the space in the curtains. Namjoon is waiting with a smile when he rolls over onto his side to be closer to him, fingers easily curling into the younger’s when he laces them together.
“We’re kind of gross, you know?” Jimin says and Namjoon laughs and nods his affirmation that he, indeed, does know. Jimin is silent for a second, using his free hand to mess with stray strands of Namjoon’s hair and then he purses his lips in the cutest way. “So... I guess it would be pretty impolite of me to invite myself to stay the night?”
“I think it’s worse to assume I’d ask you to go.” Namjoon answers. He sees Jimin’s shoulders drop in what must be relief. “I was gonna ask you to stay, Jimin.”
“I didn’t want to overstep.”
“Please.” Namjoon scoffs. “This has been the greatest night of my life and I’m not ready for it to be over. Besides, it’s late and I wouldn’t feel good just letting you leave like—like a quick fuck or something. My love language may be skewed but you deserve so much more than that.”
Jimin smiles bashfully and looks away. “I meant it, you know. That you’re sweet.”
“You also said I was corny.”
Jimin’s grin widens. “I did but just… mostly sweet. A lot of sweet.”
“Is that not your usual type?”
“I don’t… think I have one.” He considers it. “But I’ve decided I like it. The sweet type, I mean.”
Something inside of Namjoon melts. Or maybe it’s just him. “You don’t know me, Jimin.”
He shrugs, lips curled. “I think I know enough.”
Yeah, he definitely melted. Is still melting.
“Let’s get cleaned up.”
“Can I sleep in your clothes?” At Namjoon’s surprised gaze, Jimin stammers, “it’s—it’s just—you just look like you’d have comfortable stuff. I like to be comfortable when I sleep. That’s all.”
He licks his lips nervously, probably afraid that he’s messed it all up.
Honestly, Namjoon doesn’t think anything would make him happier than seeing Jimin wake up in the morning in one of his shirts.
“Yeah. You can sleep in my clothes, Jimin-ah.”
genius hyung
are you still at the bar?
namjoon?
at least let me know you’re good, asshole
answer me or i swear to god im gonna kick your ass
namjoon:
hey, sorry
genius hyung:
christ, i was gonna put out an apb
are you good?
namjoon:
im alright, no apb necessary
sorry for scaring you
it’s 2 am? Why are you up?
genius hyung:
well you see
there’s this thing called worrying
i thought someone kidnapped you or something
namjoon:
not kidnapped
well
kind of? but like…? I agreed to it?
the sexy type of kidnapping
genius hyung:
the sexy type of kidnapping. really now
kim namjoon did you get laid
namjoon:
...is it that obvious
genius hyung:
not really.
well, yeah kinda
but also i just know you
namjoon:
it was amazing
like fucking mind blowing
his name is jimin and he’s asleep right now and i…
hyung he’s in my shirt and he looks so cute
genius hyung:
not to be the best friend that rains on your parade but
aren’t you breaking your own rule?
don’t fall for your hookups?
namjoon:
ah yes
thank you for confirming that i have, indeed, fucked up
he’s just so
he’s really great, hyung
and i just…
i know i’m moving really fast and this might not even go anywhere but i want to at least try
genius hyung:
well, you know i root for you always
i would love to talk more but now that i know you’re safe, i am falling asleep
fyi: you’re fucked :)
namjoon:
gee thanks
goodnight to you too
Jimin is coming from the bathroom when Namjoon wakes up.
And yes, he was definitely right. Seeing Jimin in his t-shirt is one of his favorite things.
He gives him a bright smile, reaching up to run his fingers through his bed head. “Good morning.”
“Yeah, hey.” Namjoon greets, running a hand over his face. The room is bright, a little too much so but Jimin looks good in the light. “How’d you sleep? Was the bed okay?”
“You really do think too much.” Jimin flops down beside him, settling beneath the blankets again. “I slept good. No complaints over here.”
“Good. That’s good to hear.”
“So…”
Namjoon swallows. “So…?”
“So,” Jimin says again, lips pouted. “Was this just, like, a one time thing?”
Unless his ears are playing tricks on him, he’d say Jimin sounds almost disappointed.
Namjoon thinks back to his conversation with Yoongi. It was a rule he made back in his first year of college - keep your acquaintances far and your booty calls farther. It was just something to keep himself safe, to keep his head in the game because he couldn’t afford to get caught up.
But he’s twenty-five now. Fully in the throes of adulthood with bigger fish to fry.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Namjoon says, and Jimin’s eyes go wide. He laughs a little and looks away shyly. “Honestly, I was gonna ask you if you’d like to stay for breakfast. Well, not breakfast here. I don’t trust my cooking. But there’s a place, just up the road? They’ve got kimchi but they also make a pretty killer pancake.”
“I would love to, but I should probably get going. Unfortunately, being an adult means you have to actually work to live.”
Turns out, Jimin is a medical assistant. Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expected, but that wasn’t at the top of his list. He’s pleasantly surprised and hopeful that the future will allow him to discover all the other hidden sides of Jimin.
There’s a certain type of ease in the air as he walks Jimin to the door. He’d called for a cab twenty minutes ago, and said cab was now waiting curbside for the younger’s exit.
He turns to Namjoon, a gentle smile on his lips. Even in the same clothes he wore last night, all sex-on-legs as Namjoon was calling him, the intimidation factor has been knocked down a few pegs.
Just a few, though. Namjoon doesn’t really think he’ll ever be not intimidated by Jimin.
“I had a lot of fun last night.”
Namjoon grins. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I-I’m glad. I did too. Thank you.”
“Text me, alright?”
“Of course. Um, not like I was gonna text you as soon as you stepped outside or anything.” Namjoon scoffs, scratching at his neck. “Because that’s—that’s weird, you know?”
Jimin throws his head back in a genuine laugh and Namjoon finds himself biting back a smile. He steps forward and gives him one last kiss, standing on his tiptoes, arms around Namjoon’s waist. Namjoon is hesitant to let him go, begrudged that they have to separate so suddenly.
“Also,” Jimin says a few moments later, “Instead of that breakfast… how about dinner? We can work through the details and I’ll pick you up?”
Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “Did you just… ask me out?”
“Yeah. Is that an issue?”
“Not at all,” Namjoon shakes his head. “I just… thought it was gonna be the other way around.”
“Too slow, hyung.” He sighs and then runs his hands down Namjoon’s chest. “I’ve gotta go, okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll text.”
“Good. I totally won’t be watching my phone or anything. Because... because that would be weird.” Jimin parrots, lips curling into a smile. “See you around.”
”Yeah, see you.”
Namjoon stands at the door and watches until Jimin’s waving as the cab pulls off. He’s still standing there a minute later.
He looks up to the sky, a strange myriad of oranges and pinks with blue bleeding in. The sun is bright, just barely above the horizon.
He smiles. Today will be a good day.