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Jeon Jungkook loves sex.
This is a simple fact of life, a hard and fast rule that he figures he can count on to never change.
It’s something he swears by, advice he gives and follows himself: a healthy sex life, whether it be with others or a solo act of self love, is essential for a happy existence. The benefits were numerous - stress relief, better sleep, improved self esteem - and the drawbacks were slim, as long as things were gone about safely.
Over the course of his university experience, his number of lovers grew exponentially. There was Mingyu, his first - the man who had shown him the ropes of hookups. Jackson, who was really into facials. Jinho, who had introduced him to bondage for the first time… the list went on. By the end of his second year, his metaphorical little black book of names would have probably rivaled that of a classroom attendance sheet if he had actually been keeping count.
But, in a turn of events no one could have predicted, Jeon Jungkook is getting bored.
As he lays in bed on Friday night and feels absolutely no motivation to scroll through his contact list and select a man to keep his bed warm for the night, it’s an absolutely unprecedented turn of events. He, naturally, assumes he has to be sick.
He tells Jimin as much as he exits his room and meanders into the living room of their shared apartment, shoulders hunched and face sullen. Jimin hardly even spares him a glance from where he sat on the couch– he was more than used to Jungkook’s theatrics.
“Hyung, I think I’m dying,” Jungkook laments, draping himself dramatically over Jimin’s lap. “None of my usual suitors are tempting me.”
His phone letting out a ping halts Jimin’s reply. Jungkook groans after skimming over the words on the screen, the device dropping from his palm onto his chest. “See, Yugyeom just texted me and I still feel nothing… it’s even more dire than I thought.”
Jimin’s hand slides into Jungkook’s hair, fingers scratching comfortingly at his scalp. “Everyone needs a break sometimes, Kook-ah. Even you,” His housemate punctuates his sentence with a tug on a strand of his hair.
Jungkook’s very active sex life was something of a running joke in their friend group. Honestly, he would be concerned if they went more than a few days without questioning whether his body count had hit quadruple digits yet or jesting about his phone containing the number of every bisexual or gay man who attended their university. It was all lighthearted, of course, and something he knew could easily be stopped if he expressed any real discomfort with the jokes. He never had, of course – Jungkook prides himself on having found this special group of sex-positive friends who, despite not partaking in quite the same lifestyle he did, still supported him wholeheartedly.
“A break?” Jungkook scoffs. His theory made much more sense. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead in an attempt to assess whether he had a fever or not.
His skin is no warmer than usual, and he’s no closer to finding an explanation for these mysterious circumstances.
“Yes, a break,” Jimin confirms. “It’s been a while since you came to a party with the rest of us, hasn’t it? Come hang out at Eunwoo’s tonight and don’t think about getting laid. Consider it a reset period. You’ll be back on your game by next weekend and be ready to, I dunno… get mounted by two guys at once, or whatever it is you get up to.”
Jungkook’s hair is ruffled before his head falls back on the couch, Jimin’s legs slipping out from under him as the man stands and retreats to his own bedroom.
The idea is tempting. Jungkook has always had mixed feelings on the concept of parties - he struggles to keep up with conversations amid the loud music and drunken antics… but there are few things he loves more than dressing up and dancing. Throw in a few soju shots and he’d gladly spend his nights pressed against any bodies he could find, swaying his hips in time to the music.
That line of thinking is the reason he finds himself sorting through his dresser drawers not even ten minutes later, trying to locate the specific pair of stockings that he knew would go great with the skirt he had in mind for the night. It’s an all-black ensemble he plans on sporting, as usual.
If there’s one thing on earth that can rival Jungkook’s love for sex, it’s feeling pretty. And he feels his most beautiful when sporting skirts and chains and stompers, when he’s not just blurring the lines of femininity and masculinity but actively playing with them.
He thinks back to 16 year old Jungkook who turned bright red if he even so much as lingered in the women’s section of shops for too long. Now, four years later, he feels confident as he slides the fishnet stockings over his legs. Powerful.
By the time he’s exiting the apartment, pleasantly buzzed off of his own self-assuredness and the shots Jimin had roped him into taking, his hook-up woes are long forgotten.
-
Jungkook doesn’t end up spending his night in the middle of the dancefloor as he had predicted.
Because standing alone in the corner of a room, there is a man. One who caught his eye almost immediately after stepping foot into Eunwoo’s apartment. He’s sporting a dark green sweater vest over a white button down - something a little too formal for the setting - and he winces every time he so much as sips the drink in his hand.
Jungkook is intrigued.
There’s an aura about him that draws Jungkook in, something boyish and endearing despite looking a little older than the other people in attendance. He’s giving off that specific type of hesitancy that comes with being in a new situation; It leads Jungkook to wonder just how many parties this mystery man has been to in the past.
And Jungkook, ever a slave to his curiosities, very much wants to know more. He makes his move.
“Must be something strong in that cup to have you cringing so hard,” Not his strongest opening line, but it would do - especially if the way the other boy’s jaw drops was any indication. Cute.
Jungkook watches Mystery Man snap his mouth shut after a few seconds, clearly trying to get a handle on himself and the situation.
“Who are you?” Cue another look of horror. “I mean- that really came out wrong. What I meant to say is, I’m Taehyung. And I’m not sure what I’m drinking, it all tastes like poison to me.”
Jungkook gives his name in return, a playful smile already tugging its way onto his lips. “Well, Taehyung, you should let me mix you a drink later. I bet I could make you something you like.”
The man standing before him, in all of his awkward, stuttering glory, was famously not Jungkook’s type. As much as he hated to admit it, there was something about the self-assured jock stereotype that he found incredibly appealing. Call it his fatal flaw, his hamartia.
But right now, there is little more he wants than to grab Taehyung by his sweater vest - god, the fucking sweater vest - and pull him upstairs. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or the way Taehyung keeps sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, drawing Jungkook’s eyes there– either way, he’s found who he plans on spending the rest of his night with.
Taehyung seems stunned into silence once more, now alternating between studying the cup in his hands and letting his gaze fall on the fishnet stockings adorning Jungkook’s thighs.
Jungkook desperately wants to call him out on it, to see him flounder a little more, but he refrains. Instead, he takes the opportunity to break Taehyung out of his reverie with small talk instead. “How have I not seen you around before? I know you can’t be a freshman.”
Jungkook learns that Taehyung is actually a senior, an art history major who values academics and usually steers clear of any social gathering that consists of more than a few people. That this is, in fact, his first ever real university party.
“My friends told me that if I graduated college without going to one, I’d regret it,” Taehyung explains.
With the way Jungkook had found him standing against the wall doing nothing more than people-watching, he has it on good authority that Taehyung most likely didn’t agree with his friends’ sentiment.
“They dragged you here and then abandoned you? Awful.” Jungkook reaches forward and rests his hand on Taehyung’s bicep sympathetically. “You’re so lucky I found you. I’m happy to play guardian angel for a party virgin tonight. Come downstairs with me.”
His hand slides downward, linking their fingers together so he can guide Taehyung through the densely packed crowd to the familiar door.
-
“I had to uber home. The guy left me there.”
“No way,” Taehyung replies, eyes hazy and half lidded. He looks gorgeous. It suits him, being high. The juxtaposition of the dorky sweater vest and his gorgeous, model-esque face suits him even more. Jungkook’s cock gives a twitch of interest. Fuck.
They’re sitting on the carpeted floor of Eunwoo’s basement not even ten minutes after their first conversation, blunt pinched between his fingers and Taehyung’s face pressed into the crook of his neck as he laughs at Jungkook’s hook-up woes.
He had been expecting much more push-back when he pulled out a little baggy of weed he’d brought, but after coughing up his lungs for approximately five minutes, Taehyung finally looks like he’s having a good time. Finally looks relaxed enough to enjoy the way Jungkook’s fingers keep sliding across the nape of his neck.
Jungkook had also been expecting the man to keep his distance, to not crowd into his space as he was currently doing. Turns out that Taehyung is full of surprises.
“Yes way. That’s exactly how it happened, hand over heart,” He pauses, eyes sweeping over the face that appears in front of him when Taehyung lifts his head from his shoulder. “Alright, c’mon, your turn. Your most embarrassing sexual encounter.”
Jungkook just finished recounting the tale of his latex allergy discovery, featuring a very awkward drive to the local hospital that resulted in him being abandoned.
“I don’t have any stories,” Taehyung responds with a shrug, prompting Jungkook to roll his eyes.
“Everyone’s had at least one embarrassing thing go wrong. Don’t hold out on me now.”
Three words follow that Jungkook never could have predicted.
“I’m a virgin.”
The response halts him in his tracks, hand stalling in mid air as he brings the blunt to his lips.
There are a few ways Jungkook could respond in this situation. His jaw dropping is the most immediate that comes to mind, but he refrains – he’s been the target of a few too many nasty looks and comments regarding his own sexual escapades for him to turn that treatment on someone else.
But still… he is surprised. Incredibly so. Taehyung is gorgeous. Sexy in a way where even if he looks a bit awkward and unsure of himself, it still works. Jungkook is floored.
“Is it a religious thing?” He finally settles on asking, which earns him a barked out laugh from Taehyung.
“No, no. The only god I worship is Van Gogh. It’s just a combination of stuff, I guess. Focusing on my studies, not finding the right person, that sort of thing.”
And tomorrow, Jungkook would blame it on the weed, the way he reaches up and brushes his thumb across Taehyung’s lower lip. “Well, if anyone deserves to be getting any, it’s you,” He mumbles, eyes half lidded as he speaks.
Taehyung’s blushing cheeks and the hand that comes up to circle around his wrist feel like rewards all on their own. “Well, I’m open to it, you know… If the opportunity were to arise.”
A clear invitation. One Jungkook wouldn’t dream of turning down.
“You want to get out of here, then?”
-
Taehyung is nervous and Jungkook can tell.
They had left the party quickly, leaving the half smoked joint in the ashtray downstairs for someone else to enjoy. And if Jungkook tripped on his way upstairs from the basement in his haste to get back to his apartment, he would never admit it.
Now, safely in his bed with a nice RnB playlist and the lights dimmed just enough, skirts and sweater vests strewn haphazardly across the floor, Jungkook is in his element.
Taehyung is not.
“Look at me.”
Taehyung’s eyes shift to meet his, pupils blown wide. His movements still for a moment before Jungkook speaks once more.
“I want your eyes right here while you’re fucking me.”
It’s a request Jungkook doesn’t expect him to uphold, a task that serves a means to lessen his anxiety. Maybe prefacing this interaction with stories of all the sex he’s had in the past wasn’t his best move. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.
“Yes,” Taehyung agrees breathlessly. Beautifully. Jungkook would swoon if he wasn’t so focused on coaching someone through their first time.
Jungkook’s got a hand shoved between them, palm working over Taehyung’s cock. He had been hard from the moment they stepped foot into Jungkook’s apartment, straining against the material of the trousers he had been wearing. “Big boy, aren’t you?” He whispers filthily, lips brushing the man’s ear. “Can’t believe I’m the first person who gets to take this big cock.”
A blurt of precome coats Jungkook’s fingers in response to his words.
Taehyung’s body responds to everything he says, whether it’s an involuntary kick of his hips or a quick, stuttered breath. It makes Jungkook power hungry, makes him want more, more, more.
He reaches for his bedside table, closing his fingers around the condoms he has in his top drawer - easy access. He leaves it laying on the bed next to them along with a half-empty bottle of lube.
“Please,” He hears, soft and broken and almost too sweet for him to handle. It’s the first time Taehyung’s spoken in a few minutes, and the way it’s uttered goes straight to Jungkook’s cock.
“Please what?” Jungkook asks. Taunts.
“Please let me–” Another stuttered breath, stomach heaving, “Let me fuck you.”
Jungkook coos at him, thumb of his free hand stroking over the man’s jawline comfortingly. “You’re going to watch me first,”
Jungkook directs Taehyung between his legs while he coats his fingers in a generous amount of lubricant, letting out a small sigh as he tries to tamp down his own desire. The way Taehyung’s eyes follow his every movement isn’t lost on him. They catch every twitch of his fingers as they move between his legs, as he circles one finger around his rim.
Jungkook basks in the attention. It’s different from the way past partners have looked at him. Taehyung looks entranced, like he’s drinking up every single thing he does. Jungkook’s head swims. He feels power hungry and sexy and so, totally different from the man who was complaining to Jimin earlier that night about not being in the mood.
It’s easy, the slide of his fingers inside of himself. If it were anyone else, he might tease them a bit. Tease himself a little for their enjoyment. As it is, though, Taehyung looks like he’s about to draw blood if he grips his thighs any harder, so Jungkook takes pity on him and does a thorough, but quick job.
How could he not be thorough when Taehyung’s cock is there in front of him, hanging heavy and hot between his legs?
He pulls his fingers out of himself once he feels properly stretched, hand shaking slightly as he reaches for the little square wrapper next to the pillow cushioning his head. Taehyung is still frozen at the end of the bed, cheeks ruddy and mouth hanging out.
“You look like a little puppy with your mouth open like that,” Jungkook sighs. “Come here, little puppy. You can touch me.”
Taehyung’s hands are tentative, unsure. He settles one on Jungkook’s waist, thumb sliding over his hip bone. The other makes its way to his tattooed arm. “These are beautiful,” He hears. What a sweet boy.
Jungkook hands the half-opened condom to the older man, watching fumbling hands slide it on.
Jungkook coaxes him in close and settles one hand on Taehyung’s shoulders. “You’re gonna fuck me so good, right?” His other in on Taehyung’s length, guiding it to press the blunt cockhead right against his entrance.
Taehyung nods. Jungkook tuts his tongue in response.
“Say ‘yes, sir.’”
Taehyung parrots the words dutifully, an edge of a whine in it.
“Go ahead, baby.”
And then Taehyung’s moving. Pushing in.
He’s big. That was obvious from the start, from their very first interaction in the basement of that fateful party, but it takes on a whole new meaning as the head of Taehyung’s cock slips inside of him. Because he’s not just big in the overstated dirty talk kind of way.
If it’s not the biggest Jungkook has ever taken, it easily ranks within the top three. Not that he’s keeping a list or anything.
Jungkook swears under his breath, fingernails digging into Taehyung’s hips as he penetrates him. Once he gets used to that familiar painful pleasure of being stretched, his focus returns to the man hovering over him. The sight makes something warm settle in his chest; there’s also an edge of something mean there, something that makes him want to ruin Taehyung and be ruined by him in return.
Because Taehyung, eyes still locked downwards on Jungkook’s face, looks more focused than Jungkook has ever seen him. He looks determined, like he has to use all of his self control in order to keep things slow and steady, concentration on ten.
If Jungkook wasn’t worried that he might spook him, he might wrap his legs around Taehyung’s waist in order to pull him in quicker, let him know he likes the pain that comes with his partners being just a little too eager.
In the end, he allows Taehyung to take his time. The older man’s eyes, which had previously fallen shut, are immediately back on Jungkook’s as he bottoms out. There’s a question behind them, a silent request for further instruction that Jungkook is more than happy to provide.
“Tell me how you feel.”
The whine that falls from Taehyung’s lips the second he opens his mouth to respond makes heat rush to the pit of Jungkook’s belly. He might not last. “I– I feel good,” He hears Taehyung murmur, so quiet it’s mostly to himself. “You feel so good around me.”
God, he’s perfect. He keeps looking at Jungkook with these sweet, trusting eyes.
“You can move, puppy,” Jungkook says, voice steady. He’s in control and it’s clear. “Go ahead and take what you need.”
It starts off stilted, as first times usually are. The first few thrusts are shallow, unsatisfying for them both. The one that follows when Taehyung finally changes his approach leads to him pulling his cock out completely, a frustrated sound falling from his lips.
Jungkook hums sympathetically, reaching between them with one hand to guide Taehyung’s cock back to his hole himself. He uses the other to cup his face.
“Need a breather?” His fingers scratch comfortingly at Taehyung’s scalp. He’s met with a nod in return. Jungkook immediately pulls him in for a kiss, licking into Taehyung’s mouth without a moment of hesitation. It serves as a distraction– perhaps not much of an opportunity for both of them to catch their breath. But when they pull away, the determined look from before is back on Taehyung’s face.
Jungkook wants a framed photo of that exact expression in every room of his house, he thinks.
“Go slowly when you’re pulling out, pretty,” He whispers. “There’s no rush.”
Taehyung follows his directions, moving his hips slowly as he slides out of him to gauge how far he can go without his cock slipping out of the heat of Jungkook enveloping him.
“There we go.” Jungkook sighs, face turning towards his pillow when Taehyung presses back into him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
The words are true, but a little embellished. He wants to build Taehyung’s confidence. That’s lesson number one of Jeon Jungkook’s Guide to Sexual Prowess.
(Lesson number two is about wearing a gratuitous amount of skirts and not giving a shit what people think. He doesn’t think that one applies to Taehyung.)
It’s a slow process, one full of gentle touches and gentler words from Jungkook as Taehyung tries out different paces.
Jungkook lets out a loud yelp when, upon a particularly hard thrust at a shifted angle, a familiar jolt of pleasure rushes up his spine. He swears under his breath and Taehyung stills in his movements.
“Did I hurt you?” Jungkook hears. Or, he thinks he does. That one moment of gorgeous, perfect pleasure has him feeling drunk. Dizzy.
“No, no, do that again,” He huffs. “That angle, just like that. Fuck me,”
Taehyung delivers. Or, he does as best as he can. The pace takes some time to settle into and no two of his moments are quite the same, but it’s still good. He’s just a good, good boy. And Jungkook tells him so.
He can feel the man’s grip on his hips tightening.
Jungkook knows what’s coming before it happens.
Taehyung’s thrusts, which had found a nice rhythm, become much more erratic. There’s a slight downturn to his mouth, face contorting because of this all-consuming, newfound bliss. His sounds - those sweet little mewls - turn louder, getting downright pornographic.
Jungkook knows, and he’s delighted.
Taehyung whimpers as he empties himself into the condom, hips pressed flush against Jungkook’s as his body draws up taut, his orgasm washing over him roughly. And Jungkook can’t help but coo as he took in the sight above him.
He’s a vision. Taehyung’s cheeks, already flushed from exertion and arousal, are now an even deeper shade of red than before thanks to the added embarrassment; he wears a shock stricken expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of pleasure and frustration. Jungkook reaches up and pressed his thumb over the wrinkled skin between his brows, stroking until Taehyung’s face relaxes.
“Did puppy come too soon?” He simpers, words gentle despite their teasing edge.
“I– I’m sorry,” Taehyung stammers, chest heaving. “It happened so quickly and I just– I didn’t mean to, I–”
Jungkook cuts him off with a press of his lips, the other’s words melting into a soft noise that’s muffled by the kiss.
Normally, he definitely wouldn’t be this happy over his partner getting off so early in the night. Understanding, sure. Flattered, even? Definitely. But there’s something special about knowing it’s Taehyung’s first time. About having this sweet, blushing man on top of him, thighs still shaking as he comes down from what looks like the hardest orgasm of his life. Knowing that he did that for him.
“You got overwhelmed, hm?” Jungkook’s hands move down to trace over Taehyung’s bare sides. The man above him nods pitifully. “You just don’t know what to do with that big cock of yours.”
Jungkook’s words have Taehyung’s hips kicking forward again, punching a mix between a laugh and a moan from the younger man’s chest. It makes him yearn to keep Taehyung inside of him .
He keeps a comforting hand on Taehyung’s hip, guiding him as he pulls out oh so slowly; he’s equally as gentle as he slides the condom off of the other’s spent cock. Maybe even gentler when he says, “on your knees, sweetheart.”
Taehyung follows directions beautifully. He scrambles to settle onto his knees on the bed, cock still lube-slick and softening between his legs.
Jungkook chuckles softly and ruffles the fluffy head of hair atop the man’s head. “On your knees on the floor, please,”
He takes his own cock in his head where he sits on the edge of the bed, Taehyung settled between his legs.
“Stick out your tongue for me, puppy. Let me see you beg,” He murmurs, thumb swiping over his slit. He’s close already, and he doesn’t have the virgin excuse to justify it.
When he comes, he fights to keep his eyes open and trained on Taehyung. It coats his tongue and his cheek. Jungkook laments the loss of the sweater vest from before… he’ll request to keep that one next time.
He cleans Taehyung up, gathers the cum on the man’s cheek on his fingertips and feeds it into his mouth. He helps the man to his feet, aides him in getting dressed.
And as they’re standing in the doorway of the apartment apartment, one of them now fully clothed and one still bare and uncaring of who might see him if they walk by, Jungkook thrusts his phone towards Taehyung with the contacts page already open.
“Put your number in. I’ll be in touch.”