Macaroni in a Pot

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/26456848.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS)
Additional Tags: pussy jimin, Boypussy, catastrophically graphic cunnilingus porn, Light
Dom/sub, Top Jungkook, pillow princess jimin, bon voyage 4,
Established Relationship, Dubious Consent, coerced sex, Premature
Ejaculation, Cunnilingus, Rimming, Vaginal Fingering, Scent Kink,
Multiple Orgasms, Bodily Fluids, Overstimulation, PIV, Barebacking,
Creampie, Exhibitionism, PWP
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2020-09-14 Words: 6416

Macaroni in a Pot
by tinhat

Summary

Jungkook is going to eat Jimin's pussy and there's not a camera in the world that can keep
him from it.

Notes

During BV4.

Some further explanation about content in spoiler tags:

Jimin has a vagina and it is not explained.

There are some elements of consent play in this, with ignored refusals and forced
submission. It’s in the context of an established relationship and you can reasonably assume
that they have an understanding about it, but it may come off to some as uncomfortable
anyway. There are no BDSM 101 lectures.

It’s their second day in New Zealand and Jungkook is already pent up like a dog.

He catches Jimin in the living room as the other members filter outside to bring groceries in from
the car and camper van. Jimin already knows what’s coming before Jungkook opens his mouth.

“I checked out our room,” Jungkook says. “It’s not too bad. We could... y’know. Tonight.”

Jimin gives Jungkook a scathing look he can’t back up with words on a hot mic. “We already
talked about this yesterday.”

“Yeah, but we ended up with the same room by chance. Don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“A sign of what?”

“That we should... y’know.”

“No, I don’t know that.”

“We don’t have to do everything. We could –”

“We’ll do it as soon as we get home, I promise. But not tonight.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to complain, but Jimin ignores him to head out the door. Jungkook
follows along after him like a sad puppy.

***

Resoundingly rebuked, Jungkook occupies himself with hovering over Yoongi’s shoulder as he
gets to work on their dinner. It’s all Jungkook can do to keep his mind off of Jimin wandering back
and forth through the rooms, tantalizing him with his fat ass.

Jungkook fetches the onion when Yoongi asks, and then resumes his looming post until Yoongi
gets agitated enough to give him something else to do.

“Jungkook, I think we left a bag in the camper – will you go and get it?”

Jungkook jumps to do as he’s told, but he passes Jimin in the hall and stops in his tracks the
moment their eyes meet. The idea passes through his skull in an instant. He turns and makes a
beeline for Jimin, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Hyung, come help me carry in the bag from the camper,” Jungkook says.

Jimin takes a half step back as Jungkook gets up into his personal space. “The bag?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t carry a single bag by yourself?”

“No. It’s really big and heavy.”

Jimin laughs. “I’m sure you can handle it.”

“What if I get hurt?”

“If you can lift me you aren’t going to get hurt.”

Jungkook whines, sidling up to Jimin to tug at his sleeve. “Come on...”

With something between a laugh and a groan, Jimin relents. “Okay, whatever, let’s go,” he says.
Jungkook grins and turns to lead the way out of the cabin. Jimin, reluctant but curious, follows him
outside.

But Jungkook doesn’t go to the cars. He takes Jimin by the elbow and pulls him around the side of
the building.

“Jungkook, what are you doi–”

Jimin yelps as Jungkook crowds him against the siding, back to the wall, and unplugs his mic.
They’re in the dark, hidden by shadow, out of sight of any camera. Jimin still feels his heart in his
throat.

“What are you doing?” Jimin repeats in a reproachful hiss. Jungkook laughs and leans in.

“I can smell your pussy from across the room,” Jungkook exhales into the shell of Jimin’s ear.

Jimin jerks away from Jungkook like he’d just touched a stove, face burning worse than a red hot
element. “Jungkook!” he hisses. “Not here!”

Jungkook laughs airily, entirely undeterred by Jimin’s protests. He flits along after Jimin as he tries
to escape, grabbing him firmly by the hips to impede his efforts. Then he pins Jimin face-first
against the wall. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jungkook says. “No one’s watching.”

He’s right. No one’s watching. But there are crew and cameras right around the corner, and
someone could easily hear them.

Jimin’s body goes rigid as a rod, not so much as a breath escaping his lips. Jungkook lets one of his
hands roam from Jimin’s hip to the plane of his stomach, gliding over his tensed abs. It’s like
marble, he’s so stiff.

“You can’t smell my pussy,” Jimin complains under his breath, acrid.

“Yeah I can,” Jungkook whispers. He slips a finger into Jimin’s belly button, digging in until
Jimin’s breath catches in his throat.

“I don’t smell anything,” Jimin says. His hands are shaking, palms pressed against the siding.
“Nobody else ever smells anything.”

“Maybe I’m just imagining things because I’m so hungry,” Jungkook says.

Jimin balls his hands into fists, knuckles white. But however reticent Jimin seems invested in
appearing, Jungkook knows that if his hand slides down far enough, he’ll find Jimin hot and wet
for him already.

As dumb a move as it is, Jungkook can’t resist the temptation. So Jungkook presses his nose into
the nape of Jimin’s neck and breathes in deep as he lets his hand drift down to the waistband of
Jimin’s pants, then underneath it, through a wiry bristle of stubble, and lower, lower until he’s –

– stopped by a harsh grip around his wrist.

Jungkook groans in frustration as Jimin wrenches Jungkook’s hand from his pants and extricates
himself from Jungkook’s grasp.

“C’mon,” Jungkook complains. “We barely did it over the break. Just let me –”

“Let you what? Finger me next to 50 hot mics? Cut it out,” Jimin says, nearly laughing from the
incredulity. “How did you get like this just from a couple of weeks without sex?”

“You went to Russia and Paris and Hawaii without me. I was all alone for so long.”

“I wish I could convince you that it’s okay to masturbate.”

“I don’t want that. I want you.”

“Come on,” Jimin sighs. “We did it on your birthday for hours and hours and hours.”

"That was weeks ago. And most of that was technically on the day after my birthday. And you
made me cry on my birthday all day before that, so it definitely didn’t count."

Jimin groans. “I said I was sorry.”

“It’d be really easy to make it up to me...”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Jimin announces, clearly frustrated – he’s had enough. He tries to
stomp away and return to the cabin, but Jungkook grabs him by the waist again.

“Come to our room before you shower,” Jungkook says. “Don’t wash it.”

“Don’t wash it?” Jimin echoes, confused. But then he gets it. “Oh – you’re disgusting.”

“Don’t wash it,” Jungkook repeats, as if the clarification were needed. “I want to smell it.”

Jimin makes a disgusted face. “I don’t get why you’re like this. I’ve been sweating all day. It’s
gotta be like a fish market.”

“Yeah. That’s what I like.”

Jimin recoils, flustered. “Y– I – you’re not – that’s –” He doesn’t seem to know what about the
statement to object to first. “Y-you’re supposed to say it doesn’t really smell like...”

Jungkook shrugs a shoulder. “I like fish,” he says.

Jimin looks embarrassed to the point of speechlessness. Jungkook laughs, which only seems to
make matters worse.

“Nothing is happening tonight,” Jimin bites back, final. “I’m taking a shower.”

And with that, Jimin storms off. Jungkook goes to the car, grabs the bag from the camper, and
rejoins Yoongi in the kitchen like nothing ever happened.

***

After eating and cleaning up, Jungkook gets straight into bed. All his pent up frustration seems to
have wiped him out – it doesn’t take him long to nod off.

Jimin finds Jungkook already dozing in the bottom bunk when he comes into their room to settle
in. Mindful not to wake him, Jimin carefully plugs in his phone and crosses the room with light
steps to shut off the lights and close the door.

Jimin’s doing his best to stay quiet, but the wood of the ladder creaks when he puts his weight onto
the step. He hears a rustle from the bottom bunk immediately.
“Hyung?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin stops in the middle of the climb. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” he says, keeping his voice soft.

“It’s all right,” Jungkook mumbles, groggy. He shifts in his bed noisily. “Oh, I meant to tell you I
can see your nipples through your shirt.”

Jungkook can’t see Jimin’s face, but he knows exactly the exasperated look he’s wearing right
now. “Jungkook.”

“It’s fine! Our mics are off.”

“Jungkook –”

“Just thought you’d want to know. It’s sexy. It’s almost like you’re naked, that shirt is so tight...”

Jimin sighs and climbs the rest of the way up into his bunk. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

Jungkook exhales loudly, which Jimin ignores. Jimin gets comfortable in bed, bundled in warm
blankets and ready to sleep like a stone. One minute quickly passes into ten. Jimin is just about to
doze off, when...

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers, but Jimin doesn’t respond. Jungkook raises his voice a little.
“Hyung.”

“What?” Jimin responds, sounding annoyed.

“You didn’t give me a kiss before we went to bed...”

Jimin laughs airily, but doesn’t move from his spot. He thinks it’s a joke.

“You always give me a kiss,” Jungkook says, shifting uncomfortably in bed. “I dunno if I can get
back to sleep...”

Jimin snorts. “Just shut your eyes, baby. We need to wake up on time tomorrow.”

As Jimin settles back in to sleep, the room falls quiet again. It’s dark and cold and still.

“Jimin-ah...”

Rustling. And then a long moment of silence.

“... You’re being serious,” Jimin says, dry.

Jungkook’s voice gets small. “Yeah...”

Jimin mumbles something under his breath that Jungkook doesn’t quite catch. But then the bunk
creaks, and Jimin starts to climb down the ladder.

Jungkook perks up, sitting up in bed as he tries to make out Jimin’s shape in the darkness. Jimin
hobbles over, blind and undignified, until he’s close enough to take a seat next to Jungkook on the
bottom bunk.

“Do you need me to sing you a lullaby too, sweetie?” Jimin asks, flat, reaching to brush
Jungkook’s hair out of his face.
“No, it’s okay. You might wake up the other hyungs,” Jungkook answers.

Jimin blows air through his nose in a harsh snort and leans in to plant a peck onto Jungkook’s
forehead. Then he sits back, mouth pressed into a thin line. “All right, there. Happy now? Can I go
back to sleep?”

Jungkook’s brow knits over his eyes. “On the lips?”

“Jungkook, there’s a camera in our room.”

“Our mics are off and it’s too dark for the camera to pick anything up. Also, I checked and you
can’t even see anything on the bottom bunk from the angle the camera is at. And even if you could
the editors have deleted worse.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Jimin sighs and gives Jungkook a kiss on the lips, but it’s just as perfunctory and chaste as the one
before. When he draws back, Jungkook’s eyes are shimmering pathetically.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines.

Jimin groans like he’s exasperated, but he’s giggling, too, in that way that always makes
Jungkook’s stomach turn over. “You’re so needy,” he says, smiling faintly.

“It’s because I love you so much,” Jungkook says, dead serious.

Jimin is easy to win over. After a breathless laugh he leans in with a deliberate slowness, a tender
hand against Jungkook’s cheek – he tips up Jungkook’s chin and presses their lips together, soft
and lingering and sweet.

And when Jungkook moves back against him, Jimin doesn’t pull away. They kiss, slow and
delicate – Jungkook is hesitant to take too much, but he always wants more, can never help but
push the boundary. His hands move to Jimin’s body automatically, curling around the nape of his
neck and the curve of his waist – Jimin sighs into Jungkook’s mouth as Jungkook draws him
closer, pulls him into his lap.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin breathes, low.

How can Jungkook help himself, when Jimin is melting into him like that? Jungkook’s grip grows
a little firmer, his kisses more urgent – and when he slips his tongue past Jimin’s lips, Jimin voices
no complaint.

It never takes much for him. Jungkook is hard in half an instant, burning with a hungry energy, and
Jimin seems content to pour gasoline into the fire. Jungkook licks into Jimin's mouth, kissing his
jaw and neck, hands all over his body – the curve of his back, his firm ass. Jimin is pliant, sighing
into Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook needs to fuck. He needs Jimin beneath him, cock in his mouth, his pussy, his ass. He
needs to eat him until he begs for it, fuck him until he cries, cum inside of him until his balls are
dry. He's sure Jimin needs it too – and if he doesn't want it right now, he will. He always does.

With a firm grip Jungkook puts a hand to Jimin's shoulder and pushes him onto his back on the
bed. Jimin yelps, squirming under Jungkook's full weight above him, but it's tough for him to
articulate anything coherent with the way Jungkook is biting at his lips.
It takes a few harsh slaps on the back until Jungkook listens and breaks away. He pulls back, eyes
wide and panting as he looks down at Jimin beneath him – hair a mess, face flushed, chest
heaving. Jungkook is lying right between Jimin's spread thighs, and even with clothes on it feels
like everywhere they touch is blazing hot.

“I think we got a little carried away,” Jimin exhales.

"I want you," Jungkook says, eyes dark.

“Come on, cut it out,” Jimin complains, laughing faintly. "I'm not in the mood."

"Not in the mood?" Jungkook repeats.

Jimin still has his hands on Jungkook’s arms, keeping him close – still has his legs spread, pliant
and welcoming. “We need to sleep. You know we'll both feel terrible in the morning unless we
sleep now,” Jimin says, unpersuasive.

Jungkook leans in and licks a stripe up the column of Jimin’s neck, broad and shameless. “I’m
gonna eat your pussy,” he exhales into Jimin’s ear.

Jimin seizes up for a moment, breath caught in his throat. And then his fingers curl into the fabric
on Jungkook’s shoulders. “Oh...”

“I’ll eat you out until you come three, four times,” Jungkook says, tonguing over the shell of
Jimin’s ear. “Come into my mouth. On my tongue.”

When Jimin turns his head away, Jungkook makes do with the other ear and sucks the lobe of it
into his mouth. Jimin gasps, his grip on Jungkook's arms tightening – but the next time he turns his
head he meets Jungkook's lips with his own.

Emboldened by the reciprocation, Jungkook rides his fingers up Jimin’s body until he’s pulling his
shirt over his head. Jimin shivers with his bare skin exposed to the chilly air, protesting weakly,
"Baby, it's too cold to –"

Jungkook silences Jimin’s complaints with a kiss. And then he’s licking and biting his way down
Jimin’s body, at first softly, and then more harshly in the places the marks won’t show – he sucks
Jimin’s nipples with a strong grip at his hip to keep him pinned as he writhes. Jimin is self-
consciously vocal, struggling to silence himself with a hand over his own mouth.

It gives Jungkook the freedom to do whatever he wants with him. He makes his way down to the
waistband of Jimin’s pants and makes an effort to tear them off – Jimin gives a show of struggling
until Jungkook proves too discombobulated in the dark to overcome him, at which point he groans
and accedes to participating in removing his own pants.

And then Jimin is left exposed, naked but for his panties: plain white cotton, a cheap brand from
the convenience store. Jungkook thinks he remembers when he bought these, on a day Jimin forgot
to bring a change of clean underwear over to their apartment.

The crotch of them is drenched. Jungkook can see everything. And for all Jimin’s insistence that
they wouldn’t be having sex tonight, he’s so smooth he can’t have shaved more than a few hours
ago.

It's impossible to hold back any longer. Jungkook holds Jimin’s thighs apart and leans in to press
his nose right into the cotton, sucking in all the concentrated scent the damp fabric has soaked up –
so soon after showering it’s not too strong, but to Jungkook’s sensitive nose it’s still meaty and
heady, like something raw.

It goes directly to Jungkook's cock. He's throbbing, so hard it’s painful, salivating and senselessly
aroused. He wants to eat.

But when Jungkook reaches up to push Jimin's panties to the side and lick his pussy, Jimin's hand
tugs the fabric taut. Jungkook growls as he tongues over the cotton – he wants it bare but Jimin is
petulant, won't let him have it, blocking him even as he tries to worm his tongue beneath the
obstacle.

The denial hits him with a flash of red. With a frustrated snarl, Jungkook climbs back up Jimin's
body, pinning Jimin's hands above his head – and he lets Jimin struggle just to show him how
easily he can overpower him. Jimin flails, but it’s almost perfunctory – Jungkook would’ve had a
tougher time subduing a child. Jungkook tightens his grip until Jimin has finally given up the act
and gone slack.

“Are you done?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin still looks defiant, chest heaving, but he doesn’t say anything. This is a game he likes to play
– pretending that he isn’t twice as desperate for it. He wants to be broken.

"I could take it if I wanted to," Jungkook says, voice rough and impatient. He doesn’t have time for
this. "So just let me have it now."

Jimin's pupils dilate.

It seems like that was enough: this time, Jimin doesn’t do anything to impede Jungkook on his
descent. Jungkook kisses his way down Jimin’s body until he reaches his thighs, and then he tears
off Jimin’s underwear with little finesse.

And with that Jimin lies bare beneath him, legs pressed together in a maddeningly false pantomime
of modesty. With a bruising grip, Jungkook forces Jimin’s thighs apart as wide as they’ll spread –
Jimin’s breath catches in his throat as he’s exposed, swollen with arousal and ridiculously wet, any
pretense of disinterest thoroughly discredited.

And then Jungkook leans in and licks a stripe right up the center of Jimin’s pussy. Jimin gasps,
abdomen tensing, but his folds spread for Jungkook’s tongue like butter.

Jungkook groans as the taste and the smell floods his senses – he breathes it all in like an animal,
rubbing his face in it, drunk and mindless. He licks up the slick juice where it’s run down over the
curves of Jimin’s cheeks, and then he plunges his tongue into his wet hole. Jimin’s fingers tangle
into the roots of Jungkook’s hair as he licks inside and sucks, swallowing down all of the wetness
he can get. He doesn’t have much technique to speak of as he laps at Jimin’s dripping pussy – he’s
just hungry. It’s like a dog going at a plate of wet food.

But from the barely stifled sounds escaping from Jimin's throat, he’s not really scrutinizing
Jungkook on his performance. Once Jungkook has licked Jimin clean of most of the built up
moisture, his tongue starts to wander – he licks up the sides, between Jimin's inner and outer lips
where it’s hot and smooth and tasty, and mouths over the thick skin of his mound. Jimin has to bite
down on his own fingers to keep himself quiet when Jungkook drags his tongue in a broad stroke
all up the length of his slit.

And then Jungkook presses his lips to Jimin’s clit and starts to suck. Jimin is plump all over but his
clit is especially fat, throbbing into Jungkook’s open mouth – and Jimin can’t bear the unrelenting
stimulation for long. He whines, body tensing, thrashing. Jungkook holds his hips in place when he
instinctively tries to tear away.

“Ah, ah, fuck, it’s too much, it’s too much,” Jimin protests, incoherent, bucking his hips. When his
thighs try to close around Jungkook’s head, Jungkook forces them back apart, keeping him spread
open and pinned against the bed. “You can’t, you can’t –”

Jungkook has no mercy. Even as Jimin shudders and whines and pulls harshly at his hair, Jungkook
continues to suck and lick right at his clit – it’s so intense and direct that it’s barely a minute before
Jimin is coming hard.

And Jungkook doesn’t relent even then. Jimin chokes, trying not to cry, writhing, squirming.
Jungkook ignores him, eating Jimin’s pussy like he's starving – the way Jimin tastes, how he
smells, how his muscles flutter and clench around Jungkook’s tongue satiate a hunger in him
nothing else can. It feels so good he truly cannot stop.

The pitch of Jimin’s voice rises in his throat as Jungkook pushes him well past his limit, to the
point of pain – his thrashing grows desperate, his protests incoherent, but Jungkook’s pulse is
beating so hard in his ears he barely registers the sound. Eventually Jimin’s straight up slapping
Jungkook in the head to get him to pull off. “Stop, stop, it hurts, I can’t anymore –”

Jungkook growls when Jimin hits him hard. He draws back just for a moment, lips and chin
dripping, but he gets a hand right in his face when he tries to dive back in.

“Baby, I came,” Jimin pants. “I’m done – you don’t have to anymore –”

"I know," Jungkook says, taking Jimin by the wrist. "I’ll stop when I’ve had enough."

Jimin draws a deep, shuddering breath. Then he lets his arm go limp.

This time, Jungkook gets his hands under Jimin’s thighs and pushes them back until he’s pressed
his knees against his chest. “Hold it like this,” Jungkook says, putting Jimin’s trembling arm where
it needs to go, and then shoves his face right back into Jimin’s pussy.

With his thighs back like this, pressing everything together, Jimin feels all the more plump and
thick. Jungkook’s chin sinks into the bunched mound of Jimin's folds as he pushes in to have his
fill, sweltering hot.

Jungkook mouths over him, kissing his fat outer lips, pressing in with his tongue to part his silky
inner folds and taste him. Jimin struggles to maintain enough composure to even keep his own legs
held back. Jungkook keeps a hand at Jimin’s knees to steady him as he licks up and down his slit,
getting his nose in it, his whole mouth dripping with it – it's so wet and soft and smells so good that
–

He’s paying so little attention to his own dick that his climax takes him by surprise. Somehow or
another Jungkook has managed to come from nothing but the taste in his mouth and the friction of
the mattress beneath him – he gasps, ragged, hips grinding down into the bed of their own accord
as his body chases the high. Jimin’s legs fall apart without Jungkook focused to hold them in place,
and Jungkook sucks his lips into his mouth, presses his tongue into Jimin’s body so he can savor
the taste a little longer.

When it passes Jungkook is panting and disoriented, mouthing aimlessly at Jimin’s heat. He’s
made a mess of himself and his heart is hammering hard. Jimin pats him on the shoulder until he
gets him to look up.
“Did you come, baby?” Jimin asks, smiling sweetly as he pushes away the strands of hair clinging
to Jungkook’s sweaty forehead.

“Y-yeah,” Jungkook admits, meek.

Jimin’s hand drifts to tenderly cup the side of Jungkook’s face, brushing his thumb over
Jungkook’s cheekbone with a fondness reflected tenfold in his own expression. “I didn’t even
touch you,” he remarks.

“You taste good,” Jungkook says, breathless. Jimin laughs like he doesn’t believe him.

So Jungkook shows him. He clambers up Jimin’s body and leans in to press their mouths together,
tongue probing past Jimin’s lips – at first Jimin is startled, stiffens up, but at Jungkook’s insistence
he unfurls and lets him inside. Jungkook kisses him for only a moment, crushing and urgent, until
he pulls back. Jimin comes away panting and flushed and sticky, traces of his own pussy on his
lips.

There’s a moment where Jimin stares up at him, wide-eyed and breathless. And then he swallows,
licks his lips and pulls Jungkook back down to his level.

Jimin kisses him with teeth, sucking Jungkook’s lips into his mouth and licking at his cheeks and
chin until there’s not a drop of himself left. And when he’s finished, he draws Jungkook’s lips back
to his and kisses him with an open mouth and aggressive tongue. Jungkook licks into Jimin,
drooling, messy, drinks his spit when it spills, pulling at each other's lips until they’re both swollen
and raw.

It never takes long for Jungkook to find the energy to go again, plumping right up into his own
barely dried mess. His hand snakes its way down Jimin’s body, over the smooth plane of his
abdomen and his smoother pubic mound and then further still against the hard bud of his clit. Jimin
squirms, squeezing his thighs around Jungkook’s hand as it slips between his legs.

It’s a complete mess, so wet everywhere that it’s like there’s no friction at all. Jimin gasps into
Jungkook’s mouth, clinging to his shoulders as Jungkook palms over his slippery sex – Jungkook
dips two fingers inside with a squelch that would be sickening in any other context. Jimin moans,
loud, tensing everywhere, hands at Jungkook’s shoulders and muscles around his digits. When
Jungkook hooks his fingers, the back of Jimin’s head hits the mattress, eyes rolled up.

Jungkook laughs, nuzzling his face into Jimin’s neck. He works his hand at a leisurely pace,
rocking back and forth over the curve of Jimin’s pelvic bone. He rubs over Jimin’s clit, slides
between his lips, and then he plunges his fingers inside. At this angle the penetration is shallow,
but he presses in as deep as he can go, relishing how tight Jimin feels – he’s blazing hot, muscles
fluttering like he’s being pushed to the edge, clit hard under his palm. Jungkook adds a third finger
and Jimin sobs against his cheek.

“Does that feel good?” Jungkook asks in a whisper.

Jimin is long past the point of playing hard to get. “Of course, baby,” he sighs. “Of course.”

Jungkook presses his fingers in and kisses Jimin’s lips. He feels something so hot and tight in his
own chest as Jimin kisses back, clings to him and holds him so close – it’s always like this, like it’s
the first time, warm and good and full of nervous yearning to be even closer.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathes, kissing at Jimin’s neck and chin and lips and nose and forehead as
his fingers press into him as deep as he can. “Look at you. I love you.”
But Jimin has no concept of what he looks like. He lets Jungkook have him, lets Jungkook touch
him and kiss him and eat him alive, but Jimin doesn’t understand what he’s done to him. No matter
how much Jungkook takes, it’ll never fill him up. He wants more and more and more, burning
alive.

He kisses Jimin’s mouth fiercely, licks into him and sucks on his tongue, rubs his clit and fills his
body. The soft sounds Jimin is making are driving Jungkook insane.

He has no idea what he could do to ever make it enough.

“Are you close?” Jungkook asks. Jimin’s answer is totally incoherent.

When Jungkook pulls his hand away, Jimin is immediately inconsolable. "Ah, no, you can't stop,"
he breathlessly protests, as if he lacks the sense to think further than a second into the future.

But he changes his tune the moment he realizes what Jungkook is doing. He paws at Jungkook's
shoulder and chest as Jungkook struggles to muster the coordination to kick off his pants. "Oh, are
you gonna – yes, do it, fuck me, fuck my pussy, baby, put it in, I –"

As soon as Jungkook has managed to remove his pants he’s back on top of Jimin, pinning him
down the way he likes. Jimin’s gaze goes straight to Jungkook’s cock – his eyes roll back at the
sight of it, letting himself go slack, spreading his legs wide as if dignity were an alien concept.
Jungkook clambers between his thighs, Jimin clawing at his arms and shoulders, desperate to pull
him closer, draw him inside.

"Yes, yes, fuck, put it in, put it in," Jimin babbles, delirious, hands at Jungkook's cheeks, lips at his
lips. Jungkook's fingers tremble as he grips at the base of his own cock, head pressed between
Jimin's folds – and at last he pushes in, so slick it's like nothing, kissing at Jimin's gasping mouth
until their hips are flush and everything is so hot Jungkook has no sense at all anymore. Jimin
moans, loud and wanton, fingers in Jungkook's hair, bites his lips hard enough to draw blood.
"Fuck me, fuck me, make me come, cum inside me, fuck, I want it now, need you –"

Jungkook doesn't move. He knows he won't last if he does. Instead he reaches down between them
with his weak and shaking arm and rubs at where they're joined until Jimin is writhing and keening
beneath him. Jimin wants it so bad, wants Jungkook to give it to him and fuck him and pound him
so hard, all but begs for it, and he will, once he's just a little closer, just a little further –

As soon as Jungkook feels Jimin start to tighten around him, he lets go. He takes Jimin by the
wrists and pins his arms above his head, and he rolls his hips as hard and as deep as Jimin can take
him. Jimin cries as he comes.

Jungkook rides through Jimin’s trembling release, thrusts erratic. Jimin is tight enough as it is, but
as the orgasm courses through his body and his walls clench in waves, the pressure becomes
impossibly tight around Jungkook's cock – sometimes he grips so hard Jungkook can barely drag
his dick out on his backstroke. Jungkook can't help the sounds that come out of his mouth as he
fucks Jimin's pussy, fast and ragged and desperate.

But it’s not really the physical sensation that overwhelms him. It’s just hard to endure it, to look
down at Jimin beneath him and see him looking like that, getting fucked so bad, fucked by him – to
see his own cock as it drives in and out of Jimin’s body, spreading him and reducing him to this.
It’s the hundredth or thousandth or millionth time and yet it never dulls, never feels any less
improbable or gratifying or fulfilling to be able to have Jimin the way he has him. He has to know
that every sound Jimin makes is for him, that the way that Jungkook is filling him is what’s
overcome his face with no much naked pleasure – to know that Jimin holds him close because he
wants him, spread his legs for this and welcomed him into the deepest part of him. He has to see
Jimin like this and know that Jimin loves him, maybe even sometimes almost as much as he does –

He wishes he could last longer, but he never does. It’s maybe a dozen thrusts, a handful of seconds,
before his balls clench and he's coming hard, spilling himself into Jimin's body as deep as he can
bury it. Jimin can obviously feel it, head thrown back, legs wrapped around Jungkook's waist so
tight he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

But Jungkook isn’t about to let his own inadequacy hold him back from giving Jimin what he
needs – he keeps fucking him past the point of overstimulation, until it hurts, until his cock is raw
and begging him to stop, pelvis brushing against Jimin's clit with every thrust. He keeps going until
Jimin comes again, so exhausted and spent that all that comes out of his throat is strangled sobs.

When Jungkook has finally hit his limit – when he’s confident Jimin has been thoroughly satisfied
– he completely collapses, slipping out with a wet squelch. Jimin gives an oof under his weight, but
shifts until he can comfortably embrace Jungkook atop him.

"Baby," Jimin whispers against Jungkook's sweaty neck. "C'mon, baby... you're crushing me a
little."

A rush of adrenaline shocks Jungkook's brain back online. "O-oh, I'm so sorry," he babbles,
pushing himself up on his forearms. He looks down only to see Jimin, sweaty and flushed and
fucked and beautiful beneath him, and he can barely contain himself –

Whatever look Jungkook has on his face must be ridiculous because Jimin bursts into laughter.

"W-what?" Jungkook chokes out, reddening.

"I just like you," Jimin says, light fingertips tapping at Jungkook’s collar. "You're so cute."

Jungkook has to roll over because looking Jimin in the eye is too much for him to handle. He flops
over onto his back, and Jimin shifts himself as if to cling to Jungkook's chest, but he stops after
sliding his legs together.

"Ugh," Jimin says, grimacing. "I'm so fucking wet and sticky. How much cum did you put in me?
This feels so nasty."

"I'll take care of it," Jungkook says.

Jimin opens his mouth as if to stop him, but he either knows better or is too tired to even bother. He
just sighs and accepts his fate as Jungkook pushes him over onto his front.

Jungkook sidles down Jimin's body until his head is back between his thighs. The answer to
Jimin’s question is: a lot. Jimin's pussy absolutely reeks with the smell of sex – and it looks it too,
wet and stretched and dripping cum. Jungkook breathes in deep.

Jungkook starts with licking Jimin's thighs clean – even halfway down to his knees he's smeared
with pussy and cum and spit and sweat. Then when he's finished he turns back to Jimin's mound,
licking over his lips and between them, careful to avoid Jimin’s oversensitive clit. Jimin sighs
contentedly as Jungkook presses his tongue inside, gently licking up the cum and slick, fingering
and sucking at his hole until there's nothing left but the sheen of spit.

There was quite a bit of drip down into his ass, too. Jungkook has no compunctions about licking
between his cheeks – he cleans up all the mess before he turns to Jimin’s untouched hole,
tantalizingly tight. Jungkook laps gently at Jimin's ass with the breadth of his tongue, spreading it
with his thumbs but not probing deep. He's not even hard anymore, but he can never seem to get
enough of Jimin's scent and taste and the sensation of his skin on his lips – he loves the sound of
Jimin sighing beneath him, writhing at his touch, the way he can feel Jimin's muscles relax and
open up to his tongue. He licks into him until at last Jimin speaks up, "C'mon, baby, that's
enough."

Jungkook does as he's told, rising to climb his way back up Jimin's body. Jimin turns and settles
into his arms, smiling pleasantly, at least until Jungkook leans in to kiss him.

"Ew," Jimin says, recoiling. "Your nose smells like butthole."

"Oh, um, sorry," Jungkook says. But when his face falls, Jimin smiles and reaches out a hand to his
cheek to reassure him.

"How do you stand it?" Jimin says, fond, brushing his thumb tenderly across Jungkook's
cheekbone. "It smells terrible."

"I don't think it smells terrible if it's yours," Jungkook answers, breathlessly sincere. "I love every
part of you."

Jimin laughs, reddening despite himself. "Come on, stop, you’re embarrassing me –"

But when Jungkook tries to kiss him this time, Jimin doesn't pull away. He sighs into Jungkook's
mouth, wrapping his arms around his neck when Jungkook shifts atop him. They kiss, at first
sweetly, and then open mouthed and wet, sucking at each other's tongues like they couldn't
possibly consume enough of each other.

Jungkook thinks he could stay like this forever, but Jimin is always the first to pull away. Jimin
sighs, looking back into Jungkook’s eyes with a warm fondness. Jungkook’s arms snake around his
waist, holding him close.

"Baby... I've gotta get up and go up to my bunk," Jimin says.

Jungkook shakes his head, gripping Jimin tighter. "I don't want you to," he says, stubborn and
childish.

Jimin laughs softly, drawing Jungkook closer to cradle his head against his chest. "I know, baby,”
he sighs, tone gentle, like he’s consoling a little kid. “But I have to. The cameras need to record me
waking up up there."

"I want you to fall asleep in my arms," Jungkook says, nuzzling into Jimin’s collar. "Tonight and
every night."

"Well, I can't. There's a camera in our room and we have to make at least a small effort to pretend
we aren't having sex with each other."

"I don't care who knows. I want everyone to know you belong to me."

Jimin snorts, pulling back to extricate himself from Jungkook’s arms. “How do you keep this up?”
he says.

Jungkook’s brows knit helplessly. “It’s because I love you.”

Jimin laughs softly and smiles with such a fondness it makes Jungkook’s heart climb into his
throat. For a while Jimin doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to gently brush his fingers along
Jungkook’s cheek and neck, and eventually his touch settles there, warm and anchoring.

“You’re so sweet, baby,” Jimin says, tender and sincere. “I love you too.”

Something heavy drops in Jungkook’s stomach, like a meteor into a lake. It’s not like it’s anywhere
close to the first time Jimin has said it, but it remodels Jungkook’s brain every time he hears it
anyway.

And then Jimin pulls away out of his arms and laughs, “I’ll see you in the morning, baby.”

There’s nothing to be done. Jungkook slumps back into bed as Jimin leaves him, gets dressed, and
climbs his way back up the ladder.

“Oh. You’ve gotta remember to put your clothes back on too,” comes a voice from the top bunk.

Jungkook sighs and puts his clothes back on.

***

Despite Jimin’s fears, both of them sleep very well that night.

They seem to be alone in that privilege. After Namjoon shakes them awake, they drift out into the
living room – and each member in turn fixes them with a miserable expression. Jin, whose
bedroom is directly next to theirs, particularly looks as if he desires to do forms of torture to them
that one can generally only find in textbooks about medieval times.

Jimin turns to Jungkook with an accusatory expression, like he wasn’t the one making all of the
noise.

“We, uh... we could’ve done better on the volume, huh,” Jungkook says.

As always, the members have no choice but to act as if this is not the miserable reality of their
existence.

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