Hercules

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/8910193.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V
Character: Kim Yongsun | Solar, Jung Wheein
Additional Tags: Top Jeon Jungkook, Bottom Kim Taehyung | V, Strength Kink, Muscles,
Pretty Tae, Panties, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Prostate
Massage, Riding, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Teasing, Light
Masochism, Praise Kink, Kink Negotiation, Wall Sex, Manhandling
Collections: BTS Fanfiction Archive
Stats: Published: 2016-12-19 Words: 11593

Hercules
by GinForInk

Summary

Taehyung forgets his strength kink until Jungkook picks him up during a group project
meeting.

Notes

This fic has been translated into Russian on ficbook.

See the end of the work for more notes

“And I’ll be putting you in groups now,” the professor said, and Taehyung could have sworn she
looked right at him, which meant he’d probably be stuck with the calmest, most productive, most
boring students instead of the pothead in the corner and the girl with the really crazy teal hair.
When last he’d been left to assemble his own group, there’d been tears by the end of class, five
college-students bouncing off the walls on a noticeable sugar high, and expo-marker mustaches on
half the class.

He fidgeted with his pen, trying to figure out how to effectively entangle it in his hair, and by the
time he refocused on class, one pen hanging from his bangs, everyone was getting up into groups
and he’d completely missed who his teammates were.

“Um, Karla…”
“I’m sorry, did someone mispronounce ‘Dr. Jacobs?’”

“Dr. Karla, dear, which group am I in?”

She fixed him with a very tired glare, and Taehyung grinned back. He’d earned a perfect score on
every assignment but the last group project, and so she was reluctantly patient with him. “You’re
with Wheein, Solar, and Jungkook doing the Hercules myth.” He loved the Hercules myth. Besides
being a damn good Disney movie with a killer soundtrack, something about the lion’s coat, the
heroic deeds, the fucking muscles on all those old sculptures got him a little hot.

But fuck. He had no idea what to make of any of those teammates, the two highly intelligent but
wildly personable girls that always sat in the front, and Jeon Jungkook, one of those silent, back-of-
the-room jock types that Taehyung loved to fantasize about when he was drunk enough. Jungkook
especially tended to draw his eyes in class, long legs sticking out from under his slouch, lots of
straight, white teeth visible even when he wasn’t smiling, and over-flowing with the captivating
kind of masculinity that was both quiet and gorgeously confident.

Before they could even get all together, Solar had a group chat, meeting place, and schedule, as
well as the materials they were responsible for during the first meeting. Taehyung felt the odd
lightness of realizing he wouldn’t have to carry this group project by himself.

“Got all of that?” She said.

Wheein smacked her pen on the table. “Got it.”

Taehyung exchanged a wide-eyed look with Jungkook, and they both shook their heads at once.
Jungkook shook his head a little more to get his bangs evenly across his forehead, and Taehyung
locked onto that surprisingly adorable tick like a bloodhound with a scent.

“I’ll email it,” Solar said. “See you both tomorrow.”

Taehyung bounced and grinned, already revving up for a good, organized project. He hadn’t been
on a team with people who cared in quite a while. Jungkook nodded and murmured, “Thanks,” in
his steady, quiet voice. His eyes flickered to Taehyung under his bangs, and then awkwardly away.
Fucking cute.

Adorable as he was, Jungkook strode down the hallway like he owned it, shoulders squared, knees
wide, hands in his pockets, completely at odds with the way he’d ducked his head when they
talked, the way he spoke shortly and softly when the teacher called on him in class. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw Solar and Wheein jostling each other and giggling as they watched
Jungkook walk down the hall.

They gathered in a corner of the library on the floor like permitted obnoxious amounts of noise.
Solar immediately took charge, which put Taehyung at a loss, since that’s what he usually did. Her
leadership style was all organization, allotting an equal chunk of work to everyone and directing
the discussion.

Within five minutes, Taehyung could tell that she and Wheein had pretty much already finished the
project down to the last detail with the exception of actually doing it. Jungkook kept glancing at his
phone and sighing quietly, slouching further in his chair, knees spread wide, one Timberland boot
propped up on the central footrests. He had his hair up in a beanie, and god damn he looked good.

Taehyung tried to propose an examination of Hercules through talking about what he’d be like in a
modern setting, and Solar shot it down immediately. “We’re looking at the cultural context that the
Hercules myth served, what values he represented.”

Taehyung slumped. “But everyone does that. That’s easy. We could get more creative with it and
talk about what he’d represent in our society and use that as comparison. And it would be fun.”

“I don’t know,” Wheein said. “That seems kind of, well, trivial?”

“How is that…trivial. That’d be…” his voice got quieter and quieter, back caving as he sank lower
in the seat, pulling himself smaller and staring up from under his lashes, “so much fun.”

Both girls leapt up out of their seats and dove on him. “I’m sorry! It’s fine! That sounds super cute,
I mean fun, just stop pouting!” Always worked like a charm. Jungkook mouth twitched upwards a
little as he watched from behind his phone, eyes warming.

“I’m so serious though,” he whined from under Solar’s armpit. “Solar, I know you’ve got all this
shit planned out and all that, and thank you so much. You’re super responsible. But can we start
over for just a minute? Jungkook hasn’t said a single thing since we sat down and it's not really a
group project if it's all you. We need to talk this out.”

Now it was Solar pouting, but Taehyung would not be swayed. From behind their cuddle puddle,
Jungkook looked very caught in the headlights, like he couldn’t imagine actually being required to
participate.

“First off, how much does everyone know about Hercules? Is everyone at least familiar with this
material?”

Solar and Wheein were both Greek mythology buffs. Taehyung had seen every Hercules movie
ever produced, plus he’d paid attention in high school literature. Jungkook didn’t even know his
Greek name was Heracles. “I’ve seen the movie with The Rock,” he said uncertainly. “I think we
talked about it in AP Lit last year for like, one day.”

“Last year?” Wheein asked. “Are you a freshman?”

Jungkook nodded reluctantly, phone tapping against his thigh.

“Do you play sports?” Taehyung asked. “You look like you play sports.”

Jungkook brows drew together, confused. It really had nothing to do with the conversation, so
Taehyung didn’t blame him. “Yeah. Soccer, I think. Some weightlifting. Track. I used to play
basketball.”

“Jack of all trades? You work out a lot?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Taehyung saw the girls’ expressions change from indifference to interest, slight smirks sliding onto
their faces, eyes slimming just a little and running up and down Jungkook’s body. You're welcome,
he thought. Jungkook didn’t notice, too busy staring at Taehyung as if hoping for an explanation,
or at least more conversation, which didn’t happen.

For Jungkook’s sake, Solar, Wheein, and Taehyung went into story-telling mode, retelling the
myth and how exactly it related back to Greek culture and the hero archetype, a little bit about
motifs. Jungkook nodded blankly, mouth hanging slightly open, two front teeth just visible under
his arching top lip, adorable.
Taehyung got to work convincing the group to do something ridiculous with the project. “That’s
what everyone’s going to have in their projects. People have looked at this myth a million times in
relation to the culture. We could do what we did right now in front of the class and get a pretty
good grade. Easy and Boring. Last time I did a group project in this class we made it super weird,
had the time of our fucking lives, and scored a B+, and that was with a couple people on the team
not helping at all. I think we can do better this time.”

“B+?” Solar said, looking alarmed, at the same time that Jungkook murmured, “I could really use a
B+.”

They both looked at him. “Really?”

“I’m not doing very well. I’m considering dropping it to keep my GPA safe. I’ve gotta pass this
class for my literature requirement but I have to get good enough grades to play soccer when the
season starts.”

Taehyung was pretty sure he, Solar, and Wheein had the highest grades in the class. It occurred to
him that it might have been Jungkook that Dr. Karla was trying to help when she made this group,
and not himself.

“Then don’t you think we should play it safe?” Solar said.

He shrugged. “I’ll struggle no matter what. Just let me know what I need to do.”

“See, that’s why I think we need to make it weird. If we do this on just book-smart analysis, the
three of us are fine, but Jungkook gets left in the dust. If we make it weird, we’re all equally
challenged—”

“Except you,” Wheein said.

“Oh I don’t know. It’s hard work being this unpredictable.”

Jungkook cracked the real grin that Taehyung had ever seen from him, all pretty white teeth and
crinkly eyes, lips curling mischievously up at the corners. Both ladies did the thing again, the slight
smirk and wandering eyes. Jungkook remained oblivious, eyes sinking back to his phone, even as
the smile remained on his face. Taehyung snickered.

They began talking about Hercules in the context of Greek society to try and get a feel for what
they could do, and halfway through, Jungkook shrugged out of his hoodie.

He was wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, riding low over his ribs. His incredible, sculpted
arms crossed, forearms thick across his thin shirt, which clung to the hard lines of his chest. Solar
prompted Taehyung for the answer to a question he’d just ignored.

“I’m sorry. I can’t possibly be expected to concentrate with Jungkook wearing that shirt. I’m a little
wet.”

He expected, from the disinterested jock, maybe an expression of alarmed surprise, at best a
confident laugh, at worst a look of disgust. He’d gotten worse from that type before. He didn’t
expect the wide-eyed surprise, and then the sweetest bashful smile he’d ever seen on any human
ever. He glanced up at Taehyung under his lashes and murmured, “Sorry. I’ll cover up again,” and
pulled the hoodie back over his shoulders like a cape.

“Hold on a minute, just because Taehyung can’t handle it doesn’t mean the rest of us should be
deprived. Get those back out here,” Wheein said.
Jungkook shook his head, still smiling with his head down. “I’m not gonna be a distraction.”

They had no good ideas. “Famous sports figure?”

“Nah, they had those in ancient Greece. Athletes and stuff. They got a lot more glory and honor
than Hercules got.”

“Mercenary then?”

“Those only exist in action movies.”

“Bullshit. Those totally exist.”

“And we know nothing about them.”

“It’s myth,” Jungkook said. “Could we compare it to modern fiction, like James Bond or
something?”

Solar and Wheein nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“That’s not superhuman enough, though,” Taehyung said, lying down and stretching out across his
couch. “Hercules is the son of a god. He’s not like James Bond. He’s incredible. He’s got to be
physically a step above everyone around him, like Superman. But, like, less than Superman.
Batman?”

He looked at Jungkook, who was staring blankly at Taehyung’s midsection, eyes glazed. Taehyung
glanced down and saw that his shirt had ridden up under his woolen sweater, revealing a strip of
tan skin, the dip of his hips, and the edge of his navel. And, oh wow, Jungkook was staring at it.
He stretched a little further, arms flat on the couch over his head, knees raising.

“How much,” Jungkook said, snapping his eyes away from Taehyung like he’d been paying
attention the whole time. Maybe he’d just been zoning out. Were his cheeks a little redder than
before? “Does everyone know about the WWE? Professional wrestling and all that,” he asked.

“John Cena!” Taehyung yelled, leaping up from the the couch. “John Cena is Hercules!”

“I was thinking more The Rock,” Jungkook said. “He’s part of a wrestling dynasty. He has a lot of
family in the business, so the son of gods thing can come in there. He’s the people’s champion.
He’s suitably super-human. The powers-that-be within the fictional wrestling universe put him up
to some pretty impossible odds sometimes, and now he’s one of the god-like legends.”

“It’s fucking perfect!” Taehyung yelled. “Oh my god, we could have a wrestling match in class!”

“The fuck?” Wheein said, “No, Tae, that’s kind of stupid and probably not allowed. Or safe.”

“This is going to be so good.”

“Tae, get ahold of yourself.”

“Can you wrestle, Jungkook?”

“I, um, I could probably learn pretty fast.”

“Could you be Hercules? Can you pick people up and throw them around or something?”

Jungkook shrugged out of his hoody and lurched forward, shoulder ramming right into Taehyung’s
hips, arms closing around his body, and then he stood, Taehyung hooked over his rock-hard,
bulging shoulder. He yelped. The ground looked very strange from that angle, straight down
Jungkook’s back and over his butt. His hands scrabbled in Jungkook’s shirt and Jungkook jostled
him into position.

Taehyung felt one heavy hand on his hip, the other hot of the backs of his thighs, horribly
wonderful. Jungkook swung around to face the girls, easy as anything. Taehyung felt his voice
rumble through his back, “Is this strong enough?” like it took no effort at all, and his eyes slammed
shut, dizziness rocking through him, the punch of arousal swelling in his cock warring with the
gravity rush of blood down into his head.

In high school, before Taehyung’s growth spurt really hit, the boys in his class would pick him up
and carry him around to show off their strength. Because he was small, crazy, and looked like a
kid, it didn’t feel gay to them yet. They did it to impress the girls, to be hot shit, and somewhere
along the way his brain had irreparably linked being carried to being sexy.

It was a kink he’d forgotten he’d had. Nobody had carried him in years, not since he’d grown
almost a foot. Not since Kevin from band class had caught on to the way Taehyung’s cheeks
blazed red when he picked him up, the way his breath came short and how he squeezed his legs up
closer to his chest. Kevin had thrown him into a pile of chairs like he was a rabid animal. Nobody
had really been all that sympathetic about the cracked ribs.

Jungkook was more gentle than Kevin, more self-assured. Stronger. Taehyung felt off-balance and
too hot, small in the best way. He made a sound like a scared puppy, a breathless, high-pitched,
strangled yelp of a moan. The girls squealed and Jungkook giggled, showing off, basking in their
attention as Taehyung clung to his back and gasped. Jungkook felt him slip a little and bounced
him up, lifting him easily, so easily, by the hips, and resettled him closer to his neck. His hand slid
warm and tingling wonderfully over his ass, and gripped there, squeezing, holding him steady like
he didn’t even notice. Taehyung’s hands shook.

Through the wild wash of arousal pounding across his system, painfully intense, Taehyung dimly
realized he was panting hard, legs kicking uselessly, hands fisted in the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt.
He could see Jungkook’s tan skin where it disappeared down into his boxers before is vision
started swimming. His dick hardened quickly against the firm pressure of Jungkook’s hard
shoulder.

Taehyung could tell Jungkook felt that awkward bump that shouldn’t be there when he started
struggling, because the moment he felt the incredible pleasure of rocking his dick down, even
accidentally, a small, high sound squeaked out of his mouth, and Jungkook dropped him back onto
his feet so fast it felt like falling. His knees caved. Jungkook caught him and he hung there for a
moment, gripping Jungkook’s arms and staring up into his sparkly, dark, incredibly wide eyes, and
then his hard dick knocked up against Jungkook’s thigh. He gasped, eyes flickering shut in horror.

Jeon Jungkook, who had begun to seem like the cutest guy on the planet, knew Taehyung had just
gotten super hard in under fifteen seconds just from behind manhandled. What a weirdo.

“Taehyung?” Jungkook said, gravelly and quiet, “what—”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered, wrestling his body up onto his feet and out of Jungkook’s grasp.
He sat down on the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest, heart pounding. Jungkook hesitated
a moment, then flopped back into his seat.

The girls stared back and forth between then in cautious silence. Taehyung felt his face burning
brighter and brighter.
“Okay, we should get back to planning. I like the wrestling thing. Maybe we could reinvent
Hercules’s quest as a wrestling story-line? And replace Greek social values and the way they
understood these myths with more American themes? Any input, Tae?”

Taehyung cleared his throat. “That sounds good.” His voice crackled quietly anyway.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, and a seething pool of shame condensed in Taehyung’s stomach.

“That’s it? Anything else? What just happened? Are you okay?”

Taehyung nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m just…never mind. I’m fine.”

Solar tried to get the planning back on track. She and Wheein outlined a basic storyline for ‘Lion
Cena,’ the heavy-weight, Hulk Hogan-esque wrestler, son of John Cena come to claim his father’s
legacy, cruelly opposed by the CEO of the company and forced to battle through all his best
wrestlers, a series of corporate hoops, and an actual bear in order to get a shot at the Championship
belt. Jungkook said nothing for twenty minutes, arms tight over his chest like he wanted to cover
himself, and embarrassment gnawed at Taehyung until he thought he might cry.

“I’m gonna go,” he said eventually, quiet enough that Wheein had to ask him to repeat himself.
“I’m going,” he said, a little louder, “I feel pretty useless right now. Can we meet up later?”

He skipped the next group meeting. He’d rushed out of the first one so fast that he’d left his
notebook behind, which Jungkook wordlessly handed back to him in class the next day, expression
unreadable. Taehyung quickly averted his eyes.

Taehyung couldn’t take part in the class discussion. He went back to his room shaky and unhappy.
When the group meeting rolled around that afternoon he didn’t go, just curled up on his bed,
anxious and tired, guilty for not going, relieved for not being there, embarrassed by how terribly
obvious he was being. Jungkook might tell Solar and Wheein what had happened. They’d treat him
like a freak for the rest of the semester. He’d gotten so tired of that.

The bed felt too short, with his head on the pillow, his toes hung off the end. He rolled over and
curled up. He wanted Jungkook wrapped around his back, lips on his hair, telling him that it was
okay. Pathetic. Jungkook, who never wanted anything to do with him. Poor Jungkook.

Taehyung had gotten a single-person room for a reason. The extra five-hundred dollars a year for a
room to his own was worth every penny on nights when he just needed a couple hours alone
without the hassle of sexiling a roommate with no second person to use an excuse. Sometimes he
just wanted to curl up with a hot pink vibrator and silk panties and just feel soft for a little while
behind a locked door.

He wanted that now. He wanted more than that. He wanted strong arms and a deep voice, and he
wanted to be pretty for someone. He got his silk, lilac boy-shorts out of his dresser, tight and soft
on his body, and hugged a pillow to try to chase away the fidgeting discomfort gnawing at the
warmth licking steadily up from the silk on his skin. This usually ended in him painfully hard with
two fingers in himself and his face flushed and hidden in the pillow. He only need to wait.

It didn’t come. Jungkook stayed in his mind. The silk hugged him uselessly. The bed was so warm
if he stayed still but too cold if he stretched out.

He woke up with sunlight angling sleepily down through his curtains and someone knocking on
his door. He’d only been asleep thirty minutes. He had just enough awareness to pull a shirt and
some jeans on over the lilac silk, though he took a minute to pet it affectionately first, and then
opened the door.

It was Jungkook, glorious and broad-shouldered slouching, and so lovely that Taehyung’s breath
fizzled out of him before he could help it. He was already several paces down the hall, but he
whipped around the moment Taehyung’s door opened. Taehyung actually jumped, just a little jolt
when their eyes met, and Jungkook tensed up like he’d scared a small animal, hands open
reassuringly. “I’m not going to grab you again. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung mouth went dry, nervous shivers racing down his arms. Jungkook looked so fucking
good in dark green flannel. He shouldn’t be in front of Taehyung’s door. Why would he be there?
“Hey, um, sorry. I know I missed the group meeting. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t come. I
couldn’t. I’m sorry.” He cringed into the doorframe as Jungkook took a couple tentative steps
closer, hands still up cautiously. “And sorry about, you know, making it weird the other day,” he
said, voice fading out.

Jungkook shook his head. “Not a big deal. You’re fine. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I
should’ve asked before, you know, throwing you over my shoulder like a corpse. You seem kind of
messed up. I’m really sorry.”

Taehyung stammered, then shrugged. “It didn’t bother you at all? I thought...” He knocked his
head gently against the doorframe. “Wow, I’m just pathetic.”

“Tae, no.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know how I am. I have these kinks and I try to hide them because
they’re weird, and when things happen sometimes I get embarrassed. And then apparently I hide in
my room instead of facing my problems.”

Jungkook shuffled his unnecessarily big boots around for a minute, then pulled Taehyung into a
very unexpected hug. They were the same height, but Taehyung felt awkwardly tall, too big in his
body. It was still so warm, so sweet and protective, like Jungkook was trying to wrap his shoulders
around him. “Stop looking so defeated. It sucks. I don’t get it. You’re fine. What was the kink that
I got you with the other night?”

Taehyung had melted into his arms, breathless, taken aback by his brashness. Jeon Jungkook was
hugging him and he could feel the hard rise of his chest pressing against his own. It wasn’t fair. “I
think I like being carried. It’s a strength thing, I think? Manhandling? I don’t know. I didn’t mean
to drag you into—”

Jungkook locked all his muscles, turning into a hard wall around him. Taehyung shivered. “Oh
yeah. That’s,” he got a lung-full of Jungkook’s scent, laundry detergent with a little bit of heady
cologne and something human and dark. “Fuck.”

Jungkook’s cheek brushed so lightly against his. “That’s not weird. That’s cute as fuck.”

“It is?” Taehyung squeaked. Jungkook just hummed and kissed the corner of Taehyung’s lips.
Taehyung’s knees shook, chest constricting hard. He hadn’t been kissed in ages, not by someone
who mattered.

“This is okay, right?” Jungkook murmured. “You like me, right? Am I reading this wrong?”

Taehyung choked, clinging to his shirt, fizzy excitement climbing up his throat. “God, you dumb
jock. You’re so hot. Why didn’t you tell me you kissed boys?”
Jungkook giggled. “Didn’t think it mattered. Didn’t expect you to be interested. You’re all so much
smarter than me.”

Taehyung pulled Jungkook’s face away for a moment. “You’re not stupid though.”

“I make shit grades.”

“You’re impressive in other ways. Please kiss me again.”

Jungkook smiled happily and kissed him again, a soft peck to the left side of his bottom lip, arms
still latched around Taehyung’s back.

Taehyung pressed back with a groan, lips sloppy and needy. “Come in here,” he said, pulling
Jungkook in and shutting the door. Jungkook shouldered him up against the wall, forearms flat
behind his shoulders, boxing him in, lips and tongue slick and soft against Taehyung’s mouth.

“I don’t know much about you,” Taehyung murmured.

“Business major,” Jungkook said.

“Of course you are,” Taehyung said. “I’m a psych major.”

“You’re so precious.”

Taehyung wiggled happily against him. “You’re amazing,” he sighed. “You’re so fucking hot. Oh
my god. When you picked me up. Fuck. You’re so strong.”

Jungkook’s hands slid under his clothes, thumbs petting his stomach, palms sliding over his sides,
fingers dipping over Taehyung’s ass, testing.

He gasped, jittery with want. Jungkook’s hands did drew back off his jeans, one running up over
his chest, the other tight around his back again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, "I keep forgetting to ask. I'm bad at this."

“Sorry? You're fine. Keep going.”

Jungkook smiled against his lips and murmured, “Tae,” crushing in closer as Taehyung panted and
clung to his wide biceps, chest pressing desperately upwards into Jungkook’s hand where his
fingers left pulsing trails over his skin.

“Please,” he murmured. “Please. Please.”

“Are you begging already?” Jungkook asked, sounding surprised.

“Fuck, it’s been so long and you’re so hot. Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook pulled away for a moment, yanked the beanie off his hair and ran a hand through it,
looking intently at Taehyung, who sagged, panting against the wall. Jungkook was there, in his
room, lips red and wet and fucking kissing him, dark hair swept up off his forehead and eyes hard
as they took Taehyung in, panting and needy against the wall of his own bedroom. His knees got a
little shaky. “You want this?” Jungkook said. “It’s a little sudden.”

Blood pounded through Taehyung’s head. His lips tingled. He could still feel the brick-wall feeling
of Jungkook’s chest against his. “Yeah. I want this.”
Jungkook lurched forward and reached down, sweeping Taehyung suddenly up into his arms,
bridal style. His weight settled, several feet off the ground, the heat of Jungkook’s thick chest
against his side. Jungkook walked him towards the bed, but stopped when Taehyung squeaked out
a long, airy sound of happiness.

“Tae?”

Taehyung gulped, searching for something to stall Jungkook and prevent him from putting him
down. “You know that old Gone with the Wind poster? Where she’s in a red dress and there’s a
bunch of fire and a hot guy? Scarlet O'Hara? I feel like her.”

Jungkook giggled, swaying back and forth a little, rocking Taehyung in his arms and letting him go
limp. He could feel his own weight, feel the way Jungkook’s arms locked to keep him up, and his
breath picked up, dick achingly hard already, head swimming with hormones.

“Fuck. I’ve never read it. I haven’t even seen the movie. Mom had the book, and when I was
younger I stared at that picture for hours. I—fuck. I wanted—” He covered his face with his hands.
“Why am I telling you this?”

Jungkook curled his arms and pulled him up close, impossibly stronger. Taehyung whined
pitifully, the sour ache of arousal twisting in his gut. “Please. Jungkook.”

“Hands off your face?” Jungkook said, and his voice only shook a little from the effort of holding
Taehyung up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m weird,” Taehyung said, voice shaking more than Jungkook’s.

Jungkook lay him gently on his bed, leaned down and kissed him again. “It’s cute, Tae. Don’t
worry about it. You’re weird but I really like that.” Taehyung fidgeted as Jungkook pushed his shirt
further and further up his chest, choking and moaning with every touch of tongue. Jungkook
reached a nipple and Taehyung arched up off the bed into his mouth, searing pleasure pulsing
down into his dick, and he wondered if he could come in his pants right here under Jungkook’s
mouth. His thighs tensed together anxiously, struggling for friction.

“Please.” He felt like he’d been laid out on an alter, body arching and twitching against Jungkook’s
lips as he stood over him.

“Tae, you have no idea how pretty you are, do you?”

Taehyung’s brain had already shut down all its processing skills. “Huh? Ah!”

Jungkook’s lovely lips popped off Taehyung’s nipple. “You’re the best part of that fucking class,
you know. You’re so gorgeous,” Jungkook’s mouth found his again. Taehyung mumbled
wordlessly against his lips, hands coming up to cover his face and stop the room from spinning.
“And so fucking cute,” Jungkook giggled, kissing his forehead.

Jungkook drew away, and Taehyung heard some loud clunking, like heavy boots hitting the floor,
and then Jungkook climbed up onto the bed over him. “Tae.”

Taehyung took his hands off his face and found Jungkook’s toothy smile hovering above him.

“And you’re so funny. I can’t take naps in that class because I don’t want to miss you doing
something weird.”

Really? This beautiful man had been eyeing him all semester? And he hadn’t noticed? “Jungkook,”
Taehyung said, voice already raspy, “Have you had a crush on me all semester? And you never
said anything?”

Jungkook snuggled down against his chest, weight heavy and tantalizing down on his hips, across
his chest, crushing him into the mattress. Taehyung looked down his chest at Jungkook’s happy
face. “I’m actually pretty shy, especially about approaching guys, and you’re a hot, smart
upperclassman with lots of friends. So no. I wasn’t going to say anything. But then the group
project happened and even though I freaked you out, you seemed so turned on, so I figured it might
happen if I hadn’t accidentally hurt you. I was really worried.”

Taehyung buried his hands in Jungkook’s hair, who smiled bashfully. “Jungkookie, you’re
fantastic.”

Jungkook’s low hum rattled against Taehyung’s chest, and he scooted back up, body propped over
his, and pressed his lips back to Taehyung’s. “Can I take you on a date after this?”

“Fuck yes. You’re so hot.”

“Glad you think so.” He shifted uneasily on top of Taehyung. “I don’t want to force this too fast.
Should we stop?”

Taehyung’s dick needed way too much attention. He hadn’t had sex since the first month of
freshman year. Jungkook was too close and too warm. “No, no. Please fuck me.”

Jungkook huffed, a little surprised. “Yeah. Hell yeah. How do you want this?”

“I don’t care. Take charge.”

Jungkook’s gaze turned just a little evil. He sat up over Taehyung’s hips and unbuttoned his shirt,
let it slip slowly down his arms. His chest came into view, a vacuum-packed, flat, even six-pack,
trim waist, solid pecs, sculpted shoulders, the most mouth-watering dream of a body Taehyung had
ever seen up close. He flexed proudly. “Figured you’d like this.” Taehyung moaned before he
could help himself, just a soft, breathy sound that he couldn’t control. Jungkook chuckled.

“Ugh, who even are you, showing up in my room with those,” Taehyung groaned, grabbing for his
abs and only reaching the tops of his thighs, fingers brushing lightly at his jeans. Jungkook smiled
and slid even further away, lowering himself over Taehyung’s bared chest and kissing down the
center line, over his navel.

“No, no, please come back.”

“You’re so skinny, Tae.”

“Don’t eat enough,” he breathed back, “I never have time.”

“That’s no good,” Jungkook said, mouthing at the sensitive spot beside the crease of his hip that
made Taehyung squeeze his knees together and squirm, eyes shutting tight. “I’ll have to feed you.”
He pulled down Taehyung’s jeans as if expecting them to slip right over his slim hips with no
resistance.

The harsh denim scraped over entirely too many inches of bare skin and Taehyung remembered, at
the last second, the lilac panties. He had time to suck in a breath through his teeth, and then he felt
cool air on his thighs, and his hands were back over his face, and Jungkook sat there for a moment,
frozen. Taehyung heard him suck in a breath through his nose and then blow it all out in a whoosh.
“Holy shit,” he said quietly, “What the fuck.”
Taehyung’s entire body felt red-hot, heart pounding with shame, legs trying to pull out from under
Jungkook so he could hide himself, and then Jungkook’s thumbs stroked down the dips on either
side of his dick, and Taehyung realized his arousal had only spiked, dick painfully hard, as
sensitive as if Jungkook already had him down his throat. Taehyung felt soft breath through the
silk, then the gentle press of lips to the head, and his back and thighs tensed painfully as he
reflexively tried to force closer. “This is fucking me up, Taehyung,” Jungkook murmured. “Holy
fuck, do you shave your legs?”

Taehyung could only grunt back, the swirling shame intensifying. Taehyung wondered if anyone
had ever passed out from embarrassment.

“Is this why you wear long pants all the fucking time? Do you like being feminine?”

Taehyung giggled, and forced out, through the lock in his throat, “Girls are pretty. I like being
pretty.”

Jungkook honest-to-god snuggled up to his dick, rubbing his cheek against the soft silk, and
Taehyung’s thighs tensed again, breath fast and rough in his throat. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh fuck,” Taehyung squeaked.

Jungkook hummed and traced his thumb around Taehyung’s dick through the silk, the lightest
tease, and his whole body seemed to vibrate. Jungkook sat up and pulled his pants the rest of the
way off, then rested one of Taehyung’s bare legs over his shoulder and kissed gently down it, hand
running so softly over his smooth, waxed skin, and Taehyung stared, arms still tight over his chest,
hands over his face, the back of his thigh against the hard angles of Jungkook’s chest, which he
still needed to touch.

“Jeez,” he muttered, “Jungkook, I don’t know what to do.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his knee gently, and Taehyung’s dick twinged nearly painfully with
arousal. He gasped and rubbed it. Jungkook gently shoved the hand off. “You have no idea,” he ran
a hand down his thigh, “what you do to me. Don’t touch yourself; that’s my job.” Taehyung
scoffed weakly, but tangled his hands in the sheets anyway to make sure he didn’t. “Good boy,”
Jungkook murmured.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Taehyung whined.

Jungkook smiled. So many white teeth. His hands were back on the silk panties, thumbs stroking
thoughtfully. “I’m trying to figure out what to do with you.”

“Please hurry. Everything you say makes my dick hurt.”

Jungkook smiled. “Rule number one: Hands stay above your shoulders, no matter which position
we’re in, got it?”

“Rules?” Taehyung said, hands raising slowly over his head, eyebrows screwed up in confusion.

“Good boy,” Jungkook murmured again, and a moan crackled out of Taehyung’s throat again. He
was beginning to sweat from the force of his full-bodied blush.

“Any more rules?” he asked, voice trembling, remembering what people had wanted from him in
the past. “Should I not talk?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Please talk all you want. I love it when you talk. You have a beautiful
voice and you say funny things.”

Taehyung felt one of the nervous knots in his stomach unravel. “You really know how to seduce a
man. Keep the compliments coming.”

“You look beautiful with your hair off your forehead.”

Taehyung looked up like he could actually see his forehead, straining his head backwards against
the pillow and then stopped and pouted, embarrassed. Jungkook giggled at him.

“You’re so cute.”

Taehyung hesitated, determined that his face did, in fact, count as being above his shoulders, and
then hid his face in his hands.

“I’m gonna add your face to that rule," Jungkook said, tugging his hands away. "Don’t cover your
pretty face.”

“What are you going to do if I break the rule?”

Jungkook smirked. “I don’t know. Make you wait longer? Do you ever wear those panties around
during the day?”

Taehyung sucked in a breath and shook his head. Even now, the smooth, cool feeling kept a
constant stir of sexy down on his skin. He couldn’t help but get hard with that feeling. He’d never
dared wear them while out in public.

“Okay. You don’t follow my rules, and you’re wearing them to class.”

“Oh no,” Taehyung said, voice strained and high.

A giant grin split Jungkook’s face. “Fuck, you’re so cute!” He fell on him, wrapping his arms
around Taehyung’s chest and nuzzling into his neck. Taehyung giggled in surprise and wrapped his
arms around Jungkook’s head to hold him there. It took everything he had not to bring his hands
below his shoulders to feel all up Jungkook’s torso. He could at least kind of grind up against
Jungkook’s crotch in tiny, tiny jerks of his hips, silk catching on denim. He gritted his teeth and
whined.

“Okay, baby. I got you.” Jungkook sat up and tugged Taehyung’s shirt the rest of the way off, and
then kissed over his shoulders, sucked marks into his neck, bit his ears, hands stroking warm and
just on the breathtaking side of ticklish over his narrow sides. His big hands covered so much,
thumbs parallel to his fingers on both sides of his body. Taehyung felt small and trapped, hands
flopped helplessly onto the pillow, twitching fitfully, tiny, quick moans falling from his lips, and
Jungkook would not let up.

“Please, please, please, please, please—”

Jungkook giggled quietly. “So responsive,” he said.

“It’s been,” he broke off to moan desperately when Jungkook flicked his tongue over a nipple, “It’s
been so long since anyone touched me.”

Jungkook finally sat up and looked Taehyung in the face. “How do people keep their hands off
you?”
“I don’t really make myself available,” Taehyung said, “People grab me in clubs sometimes. I’ve
fooled around a bit, but it never feels like this.”

Jungkook hugged him around the waist and pulled him upright in his lap as if he weighed nothing,
and that swirled right down into Taehyung’s dick. Precome stuck to his stomach. His hands
hovered cautiously in the air on either side of his head. “You can touch me, you know,” Jungkook
said. Taehyung put his arms carefully on Jungkook’s defined shoulders, traps wide under his
palms, and then ran his shaky fingers up into his dark hair. Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed, broad
hands still on Taehyung’s hips. He smiled softly as Taehyung scratched his scalp.

“Your lips curl at the corners when you smile,” Taehyung said.

“My friends call me bunny,” Jungkook said, opening his eyes, round and dark and sparkly,
“Because of my teeth.”

Taehyung’s mind shorted out a little. “Oh god, please fuck me.”

“You got lube?”

“Under—um. It’s…well,” tingling embarrassment burned up through his chest again. His voice got
very soft. “It’s under my pillow.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, leaned down, one arm clutching Taehyung easily to his chest, and
grabbed the bottle, nearly empty, out from under the pillow. “Do you use toys or fingers?”

Taehyung felt like he might die. “Fingers usually. Vibrator takes too much effort to clean.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said, and leaned up to tug Taehyung’s lip out from between his teeth with his
own mouth. “And you keep everything under your pillow?”

He nodded. Jungkook lightly pinched the head of his neglected, sensitized cock through the silk.
“Stop worrying about it. You’re fine. That’s sexy as hell.” He pulled the hem of Taehyung’s
panties off his cock so he could massage the head, and Taehyung moaned happily. Jungkook’s
eyes fluttered away from Taehyung’s, drifting closed. “You’re soft, Tae,” he murmured.

“Don’t stop.”

“I’m taking these off,” Jungkook said, lowering Taehyung back onto the bed and stripping the
panties straight up off his long legs. Taehyung watched the silk travel slowly up his smooth skin,
and then it was just Jungkook’s denim against the skin of his ass, Jungkook’s strong chest braced
against his thighs again. Taehyung felt very light-headed.

“Holy fuck, you wax?” Jungkook said breathlessly, thumb tracing around the hairless base of his
dick, the smooth skin around his balls. He almost covered his face, remembered the rule, and let
his arms flop around fretfully down beside his head. He needed to come so bad. His brain asked if
he might have a humiliation kink, and he made a small noise of frustration and horror.

The lube popped open, and Taehyung got a Pavlovian rush of need into his already hyper-sensitive
dick. “Please make me feel good,” he whined.

“Don’t just say shit like that,” Jungkook murmured in awe. Taehyung felt a line of sweat drip down
his neck. “Spread your legs, babe.”

Taehyung dropped his knees wide open and pulled them up, baring himself completely, open, soft,
and vulnerable, everything he hid laid out for Jungkook to do whatever with, and he’d never let
himself be this open for anyone before, had never had someone ask for it. Jungkook shifted back
on the sheets and pushed one finger, easy as anything, up into him. “You’re loose. You do this a
lot?”

“Did it last night,” Taehyung whimpered, “More, please.”

Jungkook pressed his lips to the head of Taehyung’s cock, pink tongue poking out and flicking
under the crown. He slid in a second finger and curled them deep and hard, hooking right against
his sweet spot like it wasn’t a big deal, like Taehyung didn’t fight for every brush whenever he
fucked himself on his long fingers, like he didn’t struggle to find the right angle over his vibrator
every fucking time. A deep, desperate, startled, loud moan ripped out of Taehyung’s chest.
Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, and Taehyung grabbed the headboard so he didn’t reach down
and grab his hair.

“Good boy,” Jungkook said again, lilting and pleased. His fingers circled harsh and slow, and
pleasure bloomed heavy between his ass and the base of his dick, building quickly. Taehyung
whimpered so loud he was sure the room next door could hear him.

Jungkook started sucking lightly, fingers thrusting slowly, sliding heavily along his prostate, and
Taehyung moaned with each press, sensitivity dialed up to ten and pressing closer and closer to
coming. “Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” Jungkook asked after a little while, voice squeaky.

“Huh?”

“I’m better with girls. If it hurts, just tell me.”

“Wha—why would it hurt?”

“You look like you’re in pain. It sounds like it hurts.”

“Feels so good, Jungkook it feels so good. Nobody’s done this to me since some guy freshman
year, and that felt awful and he was such a shit afterwards and I haven’t done it since. I’ve just been
really unlucky until right now and my head’s, like, fucked up, and I’m oversharing. I’m sorry.
Why’d you stop? Please keep going.”

“Tae?” He sat up a little, “Are you sure you’re okay?” His fingers were still tight against his
prostate inside him, a dull pressure keeping him desperate and wanting.

“Please, Jungkook, please, please, I need it. Stop fucking teasing just—” Jungkook pulled out and
shoved three fingers back in, Taehyung’s words broke on a deep, shuddering gasp.

“Pretty Tae. So pretty,” Jungkook whispered, fingers brutal over his prostate, lips soft and light
against his thigh. The pressure built and built, aching heat and intensity, halfway to pain,
overwhelming and beautiful and too good. Jungkook’s tongue travelled down the crease of his
thigh, across his hairless skin, nipping and sucking. The pleasure rushed, a severe extra feel-good
tension, and then Jungkook’s mouth met his balls, his fingers flicked fast inside him, and Taehyung
felt the tell-tale switch from tension to incredible pleasure.

His eyes snapped open. “Kook! Coming! Fuck!” Jungkook blinked up in surprise as Taehyung
thrashed and came weakly over his stomach. Taehyung wondered if his skin would cook itself
under his blush, if his lips would crack from his shame.

“Wow.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I’ve never come from that before. I didn’t know that would happen.”
“Like, from just something in your ass?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook flicked his hair out of his eyes, blinking off into Taehyung’s room for a minute, thinking.
“We can stop, if you want.”

“Give-give me a minute. I don’t want to leave you hanging.”

“You’re good,” Jungkook said, sitting up. “I’m going to go get some water. I’ll be right back.” He
cleaned him up first with the tissues conveniently placed beside his bed. “You can move your
hands down for now if you want,” he said, scratching the back of his neck shyly.

“You’re so cute,” Taehyung whined. “You’re a freshman, right?” He nodded. “Oh my god.
Adorable. Eighteen? Nineteen?”

He looked flustered, like he didn’t know what to do with being called adorable. “Just turned
nineteen.”

“Ugh. Cutie,” Taehyung said. He still hadn’t taken his hands down from over his head. “Water!”

“Okay. I’m going.” He grabbed a cup off Taehyung’s desk, smell-checked it, and then walked out
into the hallway still shirtless. Whoever was walking down the hallway needed to be grateful.

When he came back, Taehyung had stretched out on his stomach on the bed, head lying on his
arms. “Can I suck you off?” He asked before Jungkook had even closed the door.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing as he stared. “Of course. Anything you want.”

“Oh I could get used to that,” Taehyung murmured. Jungkook looked quietly pleased with himself.

He handed Taehyung the water and watched him drink it, eyes on Taehyung’s neck when he
swallowed. He unbuckled his belt, eyeing Taehyung down through his eyelashes, brows harsh, jaw
set, pecs flexing slightly as he pulled his belt open. “What’s this?” Taehyung asked, “Dinner and a
show?”

Jungkook grinned and let his pants fall down his long legs, his wide, solid, thighs. His dark blue
briefs fit snugly around his hips, clung to every inch of his cock. Taehyung grabbed one thigh and
dragged him closer, hoping Jungkook didn’t feel the way he was shaking. His palm ran stutteringly
up Jungkook’s firm ass and then around from to pet his washboard abs, smooth, soft hills under his
fingers. “Will you pick me up again, sexy?” he murmured, face hidden shyly in Jungkook’s hip,
lips half an inch from his dick, glancing sideways through his lashes to see Jungkook’s shell-
shocked face.

“Right now?”

“Whenever its convenient,” Taehyung said, and kissed him through his briefs. “Mm, you fill these
out.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook murmured. “How do you keep getting sexier?”

Taehyung smiled happily against his crotch and then tugged him into bed. “Hands above my head
now?”

“Sure.”
Taehyung left his hands on Jungkook’s hips and scooted down to keep mouthing at Jungkook’s
dick, tongue tracing teasing patterns over the fabric. Jungkook huffed and stripped his underwear
off himself. “Aw, you’re no fun,” Taehyung murmured, and swept his tongue up Jungkook’s dick
to lick heavily around the head, and then immediately swallowed him down as far as he could.

Jungkook’s thighs tensed. Taehyung flattened his palms as a warning, but his thin forearms looked
frail next to those thick, thick thighs. If Jungkook’s hips decided they were going somewhere,
Taehyung would just have to choke. He shivered a little, bobbing more slowly now, hands
wrapping under Jungkook’s thighs to grab his butt, deliciously firm. Taehyung wanted to bite it.

Taehyung hadn’t had any real, intimate, bedroom sex in the past two years, but he’d done this more
than a few times, found some guy in a party late at night, gay, bi, or just plain curious, and gotten
on his knees in the bathroom, in some stranger’s dark bedroom, behind the science building
halfway home, staring up from under his bangs, letting them grab and manhandle and moan, and
he’d fall asleep warm and excited that night knowing he was pretty enough, good enough to drive
someone crazy.

Jungkook sounded crazy enough. Even from his angle, Taehyung could see two white teeth under
his upper lip, see the twitch in his arms, his hard pecs and perky nipples. “You look like someone
drew you,” Taehyung murmured.

“What?” Jungkook gasped, hands grasping Taehyung’s shoulders.

“You look too perfect to be real. Did someone make you out of marble and bring you to life?”
Jungkook breathed deep, chest swelling with air, muscles stretched like a canvas over his ribs.
Taehyung sucked him down and his hands tightened on his shoulders, whining with every breath.
“Want you to fuck me,” Taehyung whispered the next time he came up for air, cheeks burning,
unable to look up to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook moaned. “How the hell did I get here?”

“Hm?”

“Sorry. I’m in shock. Ignore me. This is so good.”

Taehyung giggled around Jungkook’s dick and worked it lower, brows furrowing as he gulped and
opened his throat, humming slightly to ground himself. Jungkook’s back arched beautifully, breath
labored, every beautiful swell in his torso in sharp relief. The hands on his shoulders never
pressured him, just tightened when he tensed and scratched soothingly.

“I’m gonna make you come again,” he said when Taehyung took a break to tease and his back had
flattened out on the sheets so he could breath.

“You better,” Taehyung said, and flinched at his gravelly voice, way too low and rough. “Sorry.”

“Sorry why?”

“Voice.” He played with the crown, tongue flicking, lips squeezing.

“What’s wrong with your voice? You sound so hot.”

“It’s so low though,” Taehyung said, and couldn’t keep the self-conscious whine out, just a little bit
hurt. He pulled away, eyes stuck on Jungkook’s abs, and Jungkook sat up, grabbed him under the
arms, and hauled him easily up to lie across his chest, like lifting a baby. Taehyung’s dick twitched
hard against the crease of Jungkook’s hip.
“Your voice is so beautiful, especially like this. It doesn’t need to be high to be pretty. I love
listening when you talk.”

“The first guy I was with in high school covered my mouth halfway through sex because he wanted
me to shut up,” Taehyung blurted. Jungkook’s entire face twitched in shock, mouth comically
struggling to form words.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, Tae. Don’t apologize to me.”

Taehyung dropped his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I just wrecked the mood. I’m
sorry. Please keep going.”

“Your voice is beautiful though.”

“He didn’t think so,” Taehyung muttered, “And he didn’t like the way I kept talking or something.
Said I said really stupid shit.” His stomach burned from embarrassment, and not the sexy kind. “I’m
destroying the mood. I’m sorry.”

“Tae, if I were any happier to be even talking to you, I’d probably actually get high off it. There’s
pretty much nothing you could do to make me uncomfortable at this point. I’m here for you. If you
want to quit sex right now and talk about, I don’t know, diarrhea or something, it will still be the
best day of my college career so far. Except maybe midnight taco night.”

“Speaking of diarrhea,” Taehyung giggled, “I fucking LOVE midnight taco night,” which was the
easiest way around dealing with how wildly his heart was pounding, giddy, pleased giggles
fighting their way out of his chest.

“You’re on par with midnight taco night. Even just being in your room, talking to you with your
sexy blowjob voice, is on par with midnight taco night.”

“Well then imagine how much actually fucking me is going to blow midnight taco night out of the
fucking water,” Taehyung said.

“You’re still up for that?”

Taehyung ground his rock hard dick into Jungkook’s hip and moaned loud and low, pure relief and
need.

“Yeah yeah,” Jungkook breathed. “Okay. Hands still over your shoulders? Good.” He sat up,
grabbed the lube up off the blankets, and then resettled up against the wall, Taehyung’s knees
spread across his waist. Taehyung braced his hands against the wall to keep them up, and
Jungkook dumped lube all over his fingers. “You’re pretty stretched, right?”

Taehyung nodded. He felt Jungkook’s wet fingers brushing around his hole and arched, knees
spreading slightly, head falling back, forcing himself to relax. The fingers sank into him, stretching
hot and heavy, walls opening. He stayed deep for a minute, fingers stroking unerringly over his
prostate, lighting sparks up into his stomach again. “How do you do that?” Taehyung gasped. “I
can’t ever find it.”

“Good angle,” Jungkook said. “Practice. I’m even better with girls. You could practice on me
sometime, if you want.” Just the thought of fingering Jungkook sent Taehyung into another round
of wild shudders. Jungkook’s free hand stroked soothingly along the gentle curve of Taehyung’s
waist, thumb pressing gently into the small swell of his tummy. His fingers drew out and then
came back with three, and Taehyung groaned, arms tense against the wall.

“Do you like girls more?” Taehyung said when he could breath.

“Sometimes,” Jungkook said, “I really like you.”

“Am I pretty like a girl?” Taehyung asked, and flushed at that question in his way too deep voice.

“You’re boyish,” Jungkook said, fingers thrusting easily in straightforward pushes that had
Taehyung’s mouth hanging open, soft moans bouncing out of him, high in his mouth with every
press. “And feminine. Yeah. You look so good in panties. Could I put you in full lingerie
sometime?”

“Oh god yes,” Taehyung murmured. “I’m way too shy to buy that on my own though.”

“How’d you get those panties?”

“Ordered them online.”

Jungkook’s strokes were changing, speed constant, but the pressure became more intense, hard and
present, prostate near stinging with oversensitivity. Taehyung realized he was curling his fingers,
drawing wide spirals inside him. When he looked down, he could see the entire span of Jungkook’s
body fit between his legs, a little less defined with how he hunched against the headboard, but the
forearms between his legs bulged, veins running along the surface.

“So good at this,” Taehyung said, hoping he didn’t drool right on Jungkook’s chest.

“Thanks.”

Taehyung’s hips were working on their own now, shy little twitches against Jungkook’s hand, and
he slowed, made Taehyung chase it. “Please,” Taehyung whispered, staring down at the bulge in
the front of his briefs, stretching the fabric out. His dick throbbed. “Get your goddamn cock out.”

“Be nice. He’s shy.”

Taehyung groaned and bounced faster.

“Oh shit. Condom,” Jungkook said.

“I will ride you bare at this point,” Taehyung said.

“No way.”

“Second drawer down on my dresser. You should be able to reach one.”

Jungkook took his hand away entirely, still dripping with lube, and yanked the dresser drawer
open. The box sat just near enough for Jungkook to grab, and Taehyung sat and twitched fitfully,
aching and clenching and cold. Jungkook managed to yank his briefs off, and his dick, red and
hard, bounced against his stomach. He slid the condom on as Taehyung squirmed, and then looked
up for permission. Taehyung answered by trying, with determination, to sit on it.

“Okay, okay! Jeez! Hold still!” Jungkook, with one large hand gripping his hip and the other on his
own dick, guided Taehyung down onto the tip, and then grabbed him by the hips and pulled him
irresistibly down.

Jungkook’s dick wasn’t even as big as the biggest thing Taehyung had ever shoved up his ass, but
the stretch had him gasping with the lingering oversensitivity, the sheer warmth and give to it, the
way he didn’t control what it did to him. He couldn’t even move. Jungkook’s hands trapped him,
vice-like on his slim hips, so he couldn’t get away from feeling ever inch sink steadily in. He tried
to open his eyes. Below him, Jungkook’s arched again the headboard, throat bared, stare deadly
sexy, focused and hungry like a snake. Taehyung’s eyes slammed shut again. “Careful. Don’t hurt
me,” he whispered.

“I won’t. I’ll take care of you.” He moved Taehyung’s hips in tiny circles on his dick, fingers
digging into his skin, only a thin layer of padding between that and bones, hands covering so much
space. His hand twitched against the wall and almost went down and grabbed his dick, but didn’t.
Jungkook kept up the slow circles. He pressed against his walls and stretched his hole in the most
achingly delicious way, the tingling pulse from his first orgasm still a soft edge in the pleasure in
his dick now.

“Oh, god,” Taehyung whispered, “This is so…it’s so—ah!”

“Don’t do this very often?” Jungkook murmured.

“Not since freshman year,” Teahyung gasped. “Some guy I really liked found me at a party. He
fucked me on the railroad tracks on the walk home.” Jungkook slowed so he could speak. “Not
enough lube. Scared of trains. Rocks and splinters everywhere. Talk about bad at sex. He was
pathetic.”

Jungkook laughed. “That sounds awful.”

“It was,” Taehyung said, snickering. “He sucked! And then he wouldn’t text me back. Made fun of
me in public whenever I was around. Bragged to his friends. Told people things about me.
Couldn’t look anyone in the eye for weeks.” He trailed off, realizing that the dick in his ass had
gone completely still. Jungkook had that shocked, horrified look on his face again. “I’m sorry. That
wrecked the mood again, didn’t it?”

“Fuck the mood. Are you okay? Is that why you don’t hook up with people often?”

Taehyung sighed and used the moment to shift on his knees, resettle the weight a little. “I’m fine.
I’m still bitter about it, obviously, but I’ve worked through it. It’s the reason I usually don’t let
people in quickly anymore. Can you keep fucking me?”

Jungkook blinked at him for a moment, obviously gauging if he should continue. “I’m different?”

“You’re so hot I don’t care,” Taehyung murmured, and then backtracked when Jungkook looked a
little hurt. “I’ve been feeling lonely. You don’t give off the same vibe. You’ve been so sweet. I
trust you.”

Jungkook gave him an absolutely dazzling smile. “Hang onto my shoulders.”

“Huh?” He grabbed Jungkook’s shoulders. Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s lower
back and sat up straight, dick jamming hard inside him. After a little bit of graceful scrambling,
Taehyung’s back hit the wall, Jungkook’s carrying him a couple feet up off the bed with his arms
under his knees, dick still inside him. Jungkook shifted his knees on the sheets and adjusted his
arms, jostling Taehyung’s legs, and Taehyung realized he was about to get fucked against the wall.

He gasped at the same moment Jungkook began pumping his hips again, the new position driving
him in so much deeper. Jungkook held him up against the wall because he could, strong arms
locked under his legs, his weight pinning him down, open, trapped, taken, and so warm and
wanted. “More, more, please, Kookie, please!”

Jungkook breathed raggedly in his ear, hips working in smooth, tight circles that punched his dick
in deep, sliding hard over his swollen prostate. Jungkook had his entire body weight trapped
between his arms and the wall, carrying him like a toy, spread out and willing. Moans ripped out of
his chest with every hard thrust, rattling hard against the inside of his ribcage, but he couldn’t hear
them over the blood rushing in his ears.

Jungkook murmured right into his ear and he didn’t bother understanding, too focused on the
intense ache pulsing into him, the pleasure burning up his dick. Taehyung’s head jerked back and
hit the wall. His dick brushed against Jungkook’s abs with every thrust, back stuck with friction,
bed rocking, body taught and twitching. His hair trailed into his eyes.

“…beautiful. You’re so beautiful. Tae, you should see yourself.”

“Jungkook!” he sobbed.

“Baby? Princess? You good?”

“Can you…harder?” he squeaked. Jungkook grunted and hiked him further up, arms bulging as he
lifted. Taehyung yelled in pained happiness as his back scraped up the wall and his thighs stretched
over Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook had room to really pump now, longer, faster strokes slamming in,
tantalizingly close to his prostate, just a teasing note with the fullness keeping him breathless and
writhing. Taehyung’s hands dug harshly into his hard shoulders.

Taehyung swore he was getting altitude dizziness, breath coming short, arousal stinging from
oversensitivity. He loved the right-after too-much feeling of post-orgasm, often kept his vibrator in
a bit to long, kept playing with his dick as much as he could stand to as it softened, but had never
been able to force himself into fighting past it and just torture himself like this, but it felt so
absurdly good to have someone else do it.

“Can you come for me, baby?”

“Came earlier,” Taehyung gasped. “’S hard. Hands? Can I-hah! Fuck. Use my hands?”

“No,” Jungkook growled.

“Ah, fuck you.” Taehyung squirmed, trying to bounce back down on his dick, make it harder and
faster. His thighs hurt too much. His abs scrunched uncomfortably, Jungkook still in total control of
his body, and damn if that didn’t feel even better. “Can’t. Kookie, please. Please!”

Jungkook lifted him off the wall, hands on his lower back, and tipped them carefully back onto the
bed, Taehyung’s dizzy head on the pillow as Jungkook’s arms flexed and took his weight. He kept
Taehyung’s ass tipped up on his lap, legs hooked over his shoulders, low and close enough to drip
sweat onto his chest. Taehyung shivered.

He could pound in even harder now, all his weight thrown into a machine-steady rhythm.
Taehyung’s hands flopped on the pillow beside his head, and Jungkook grabbed him by the wrists
and held him down. The world became aching thighs, bruising wrists, electric tightness deep
between his hips, the desperate pleasure in his dick, consuming and good, painful and wonderful,
black and soundless. Jungkook said something, voice vibrating along his neck where his lips were
pressed. Taehyung didn’t hear.

The punching pleasure in his gut faltered, pressure squeezed his painful wrists, and then became
still, a slight twitching and pulsing warmth inside him. Taehyung remembered where he was and
opened his eyes. Tears blurred his vision. Jungkook was still, head down on Taehyung’s chest,
hands loosening around his wrists. “You came?” Taehyung whispered.

Jungkook nodded. “Sorry. Gonna pull out in just a minute.”

“Stay in me, please. Feels so good.”

“I can’t make you come like that.”

Taehyung whined. “Just give me a handie or something.”

Jungkook shook his head and slowly pulled out, sitting up sluggishly and letting Taehyung’s legs
down. His hips popped painfully, over-stretched hips sharply sore, distracting him from the
clenching, shuddering emptiness between his legs. He growled out a crackly, monotone, annoyed
note of pain.

Jungkook giggled. “Shh, I got you.” He continued to slowly stretch Taehyung’s achy legs out,
lowering his mouth to Taehyung’s cock, sticky and weeping with precome. Taehyung gripped the
pillow, wrists still stinging pleasantly. Jungkook massaged the crease of his hips for a long minute
while nuzzled sweetly up to his cock, kissing gently, each touch sparking wild need into his core.

Taehyung gasped. “Stop teasing. Touch me, please. Fuck, do something. I need something,
anything, please more, please, Jungkook don’t you dare do this to me, you ass.”

Jungkook lifted him and turned him easily on his stomach. He pulled his creaking hips up off the
mattress, propping his knees up under him, man-handling him like he was made of air. “Oh, fuck,”
Taehyung wheezed.

“Shh, its okay. I got you,” Jungkook murmured, and Taehyung cut off the deep whine squeezing
out of his chest.

Fingers pushed back into him with a soft, wet noise, and Jungkook unerringly pressed into his
prostate. Taehyung felt it right up in his teeth. His back bowed hard, trying to move down and
away, thighs trembling. Jungkook began a quick, casual circling around his prostate, pressing hard.
Taehyung felt his large hand curl around his dick and jerked into it.

“You’re drooling all over your pillow,” Jungkook giggled. Taehyung managed to crack his eyes
open, still blurry and teary, and glared back at Jungkook as he stuck his tongue out and licked the
pillow.

Jungkook snickered and pressed down. Taehyung gasped, eyes slamming shut. His body
shuddered. He felt seconds away from coming, the wonderful pressure of Jungkook’s hand
fighting the awful intensity on his prostate, but he wasn’t, couldn’t get there yet, and then the hand
on his dick let go, and Taehyung’s hips jumped, searching for it.

Jungkook was giggling. He poked Taehyung’s tongue. “Babe, get your tongue back in your
mouth.” Taehyung huffed and dragged Jungkook’s fingers closer, tongue flicking between them,
drawing swirls along the undersides of his long fingers and into the top of his palm. “Fuck,”
Jungkook whispered as Taehyung licked faltering patterns all over his palm, matching the slow,
sultry pace of the fingers inside him.

“That,” Taehyung said, taking his mouth off, “Back on my dick. Now.”

“You’re so needy,” Jungkook said breathlessly, hand sliding wetly back onto his dick, as ordered,
and Taehyung gasped and thrust awkwardly into it with his aching hips.
“I have a high sex drive and no one to help, so yeah,” Jungkook’s hand began a slow slide, and
Taehyung’s words trailed off into a heartfelt whine, “Yeah, I’m needy.”

Jungkook softly kissed the dip of his spine. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I promise.” And that felt so
good with the strong fingers in his ass, the firm grip around his dick, the broad shoulders hovering
low over his back. Taehyung hummed happily, wiggling his butt just a little.

The fingers inside him finally sped up, breaking apart the last of Taehyung’s self-awareness,
blinding pleasure dragging him in and strapping his body down. He felt ready to burst, trembling
lines of stinging arousal racing through his body. He could feel his body tightening up, coiling like
a spring, struggling to let go, arousal so heavy it hurt.

He came like a cork popping, one second an absolute heaven of tension, and the next a wave of
sensitivity and pleasure so powerful his vision went white behind his eyes, throat closing. His
knees gave, squeezing together and slipping out from under him. Aftershocks shuddered through
him. He lay still and let shivers shake through him for a while, dick trapped between his body and
Jungkook’s hand pinned to the mattress, fingers still trapped in his ass, the squeezing pressure just
what he needed as a come-down.

“You okay?” Jungkook asked, voice shaky. Taehyung grunted. “Can I take my hands off?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Tae. I need those.”

Taehyung pressed his hips down further, and another couple quick shocks of pleasure left him
gasping. Jungkook’s fingers twitched involuntarily and Taehyung jerked again.

They stayed like that, Jungkook kissing his back, hands carefully still, until Taehyung whined, the
oversensitivity getting to be too much, and then he pulled his fingers out quickly, like ripping off
the Band-Aid, and lifted Taehyung’s hips up off his other hand. Taehyung rolled onto his side and
curled up, getting his breath back. His head spun. The room felt suddenly cold now that he was
lying sweaty and still on the sheets.

“Jungkook?”

“Hold on. Finding something to clean up with.”

“Later. Come back.”

“I have jizz all over my hand, Tae.”

“I’ll lick it off,” he whined, “Come back.”

“Got the tissues.” He heard some dim rustling, getting louder, and realized his hearing had gone
out there for a little while.

“Think I almost fainted,” he muttered as Jungkook’s weight dipped the mattress and a tissue wiped
along his jaw and across his lips.

“You drooled all over yourself.”

“Ugh, I’m so gross.”

“You’re really sexy, actually. Like, holy fuck, I’m semi-hard again and it's only been ten minutes.
 My dick hurts. You are absolutely shameless.”

Taehyung cracked his eyes open. “I’m not though. I almost died of embarrassment, like, five
times.” He tried to move his legs apart so Jungkook could get at the lube smeared all over him, but
Jungkook grabbed it and manhandled him easily.

“Don’t move. I’ve got it.”

Taehyung sighed and relaxed, let Jungkook clean him up as he melted sleepily into the bed. “Do
you still wanna date me?” he murmured.

“Yeah.” Jungkook said after a moment, turning one of Taehyung’s bruising wrists over in his hand.
“Do you still want to date me though?”

Taehyung opened one eye. “No way,” Jungkook’s soft lips fell open, sparkly eyes widening in
panic. “Fuck, don’t make that face. I’m totally kidding.”

Jungkook looked like a cherub when he pouted. “I didn’t come here for sex, you know.”

“You can come here for sex any fucking time you want. Holy fuck. I’m never going to be able to
use toys again. You’ve ruined me. But on a more serious note, please take me out to dinner.
Actually, fuck dinner. Stay in and study with me. Come to the trampoline park with me this
weekend. Meet all my friends.”

Jungkook melted in against his side. “I’m going to date the shit out of you, Kim Taehyung.”

“Kiss me,” Taehyung whispered, and Jungkook’s lips pressed onto his immediately, hungry and
careful, a hand cupping his jaw. One strong arm slid under his back and drew his entire body up
against Jungkook’s. He moaned into the kiss, hands finally, finally running hungrily over
Jungkook’s chest. “It’s so appropriate that I’m doing a project on Hercules with you.”

“I’m not that strong,” Jungkook giggled, “but thanks. I’ll carry you any time.”

End Notes

And they get an A on the project and become the cutest couple on campus.

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