Work Text:
Neither of them say anything on the drive back to the hotel, but they’re both thinking it. Lights fading from blue into black occupy Taehyung’s mind, keeping it locked tight in their grip the way Jimin’s hand had been on his neck. If he closes his eyes, he can make his heart beat the way it had up onstage, when he’d thought, just for a second, that his band-mate was going to pull him in for a kiss in front of millions.
When he’d questioned whether or not he had the resolve to stop him.
But when the lights had gone out, Taehyung’s lips had found Jimin’s neck anyway, pressing his kiss there instead as a whisper, a promise, that he’d kiss him properly soon. In the darkness, while no one could see, he whispered it in his ear, pulled back just enough to see it register in his eyes, and watched as his best friend smiled—happy, if a little wicked.
He’d thought they’d pull away, that they’d break apart and return to reality, but instead, Jimin leaned in, his lips so close they brushed Taehyung’s as he gave a low, quiet whisper of his name that he only felt through vibrations. There was no way for him to hear it, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t know whose eyes could see them—who in a crowd of thousands and an online audience of millions could be watching—but he was actively fighting every fiber of his being to not kiss Jimin then and there.
Even now, his blood rushes south thinking about that stupid almost kiss. Logically, he shouldn’t do anything about it. He should go to bed and get some fucking sleep because he deserves it after how hard he’s worked for this, but his mind is a live wire, and Jimin is lightning in a thunderstorm. Eventually, they are going to collide.
Still, he forces himself into the elevator, not looking at any of the others even as they laugh and joke around about the events of this evening, as they celebrate, joy filling the air on an infectious level. He just can’t look at them, especially Jimin, if he has any hope of keeping his head on straight.
They get off the elevator together. Jimin’s room is three down and across the hall from Taehyung’s, but they’re in the same direction, and they walk side by side, eyes staring pointedly ahead. Briefly, he looks over at Jimin, finding his band mate already staring at him, and his cheeks flush pink as he looks away, forcing himself to fall back as he approaches his hotel room. “Uh… good night,” he tells him, offering an awkward nod.
“Night,” Jimin replies, returning the awkward nod as he continues down the hall to his room.
Shaking his head, Taehyung taps his key against the door, waiting for it to unlock before he pushes inside, and hurriedly shuts it behind him. Several deep breaths shake through his body as he leans against it, forehead hot against the cool, hard surface, and he groans, a palm splaying out over the door frame as he fights to wrench himself away from it, to walk to his bed and change into his night clothes and go the fuck to sleep. He needs to sleep, wants to sleep, but his body craves something else entirely, and it is winning the battle over his mind.
Don’t go outside, he thinks to himself, his face scrunching up as he grits his teeth. Stay in here. It’s not smart.
And Taehyung likes to think he’s a decently smart guy. Maybe he’s not a genius, but he isn’t stupid—at least, he didn’t think he was before tonight.
He’ll give himself this—he lasts an entire fifteen seconds against that door before he wraps his hand around the knob, and throws it open, ready to march down the hall three doors down and one across to Jimin’s room. Bad decisions be damned, he’ll regret it later, if he regrets it at all—if he gets caught.
Before he can take one step, though, he’s captivated by the sight of Jimin standing before him, also slightly out of breath, also looking at him with far too much want in his eyes. Too much need.
“I…” Jimin starts, but he doesn’t get another word out before Taehyung reaches for his hand, tugging him forward until he stumbles into the room.
Soft little grunts leave Jimin as he almost falls into Taehyung’s chest, but he doesn’t care. He has enough presence of mind to shut the door, then his hands find Jimin’s face, one coming around the back of his neck as the other rests on his cheek, and he pulls him in for the kiss he wanted to share up on stage.
It’s like there’s fireworks and a peaceful seaside occupying his mind at the same time. On the one hand, finally being able to kiss him brings this feeling of serenity that settles his mind, makes him feel at ease. On the other, it sparks something in Taehyung that makes him feel alive, like he’s high and never going to come down.
Jimin smiles against his lips, kissing him a little more deeply as his arms wrap around Taehyung’s shoulders, clinging to him as his tongue swipes over the edge of his lower lip. A soft moan leaves Taehyung, one of his hands shifting so that he can wrap his arm around Jimin’s waist, pulling him in even closer as he kisses him like it’s his last night on earth. He’s so desperate, so needy for this, it certainly feels like it is.
Already Taehyung’s lungs are burning, aching from how hard and long they’ve kissed, and he indulges in a small breath, letting a little air out through his nostrils as he lifts Jimin from the ground. Legs wrap around his hips, hands winding into the waves of Taehyung’s hair as he presses his best friend against the nearest wall. He nearly goes weak at the knees from the soft little moans Jimin gives on impact, the kiss broken as his lips part from each one.
Taehyung sighs as he rests his forehead against Jimin’s, laughing breathlessly as he kisses the corner of his mouth. “What were you thinking?”
Jimin pants hard as he answers him, “What?”
“What were you thinking?” Taehyung smiles as he says it—he doesn’t care, but he is curious. “Everyone was watching.”
“I was so happy, Tae,” he tells him, one of his hands coming up to stroke Taehyung’s hair as he laughs. “I was happy, you were there, and for a moment, I didn’t see the lights or the crowd—just you.”
Shivers rushing down his spine, Taehyung kisses him fiercely for half a second before he nods, hand falling to grip one of Jimin’s thighs. “I was happy, too,” he whispers, smiling brightly as he kisses him again, squeezing his thigh as he whirls them away from the wall.
He’s done this before with Jimin, carried him to bed and had his way with him until the sun came up. It’s been a while, though, long enough that he worries he’ll trip on something as he carries him to the bed. Somehow, he makes it, grunting softly as his shins come into contact with the foot of it, then he lowers Jimin down, muscles aching from all he’s done tonight as he breaks the kiss to place him gingerly on the mattress.
“I’m not a flower, Taehyung,” Jimin says, giggling as Taehyung crawls over him, hair falling into both of their eyes as he hovers over his band-mate’s full lips. “You don’t have to handle me so delicately.”
“I want to.” Taehyung kisses him again, fingers slipping beneath Jimin’s neck to pull him closer against him. “It’s been a long time, I want to enjoy this.”
A low whimper leaves Jimin as Taehyung bends to kiss his neck, lips featherlight over his skin as he peppers them over the length of his throat. His soulmate’s neck arches against him, chin tilting up to allow him access, and he takes it with greed, hunger, lips and tongue tasting every inch of skin he’s given. Little pants part his friend’s lips, each one becoming a pitchy moan that goes straight to Taehyung’s groin as he sucks a little sliver of skin into his mouth.
Jimin’s pulse races beneath his tongue, fingers clawing at Taehyung’s hair as he whispers his name. As he pulls back from the mark he’s just left, Taehyung smirks against his skin, fingers adjusting their grip on Jimin’s thigh as he leaves another a little further down, each one temporarily claiming Jimin as his. Mine, he thinks, pressing himself further between Jimin’s thighs as his soulmate’s heel digs into the small of his back. All mine.
“God, Tae,” Jimin breathes, hips bucking against Taehyung’s as he sucks a little too hard on his neck. The bruise is already formed as he pulls away, red and purple and a little angry, shaped almost perfectly like a heart. He can feel how hard Jimin is against him, his body just as on fire as Taehyung’s is, he wants this just as badly.
Placing a gentle kiss to Jimin’s collarbone, Taehyung shifts his hand to the center of his abdomen, fingers drifting lazily down until they reach the button of his pants. His kisses trace the bone, following it across the top of Jimin’s chest before he leaves a mark close to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Beneath him, Jimin’s breaths are short, almost ragged, anticipation building in the nonexistent air between them as Taehyung undoes his zipper, fingers digging beneath his waistband before he starts to pull the fabric down.
At first, his kisses trail down the center of his chest, but as he places a kiss right above his diaphragm, Jimin groans, pushing Taehyung off of him to hurriedly shimmy out of the clothing on his lower half. He’s stopped by the shoes still attached to his feet, and Taehyung laughs as he attempts to kick them off, failing miserably as he collapses back on the mattress, chest heaving with frustrated breaths. “God damn it.”
“Slow down,” Taehyung orders him, voice soft as he trails lazy fingers along the inside of one of Jimin’s thighs. “We can take our time. I’m in no rush.”
Another whine, then Jimin props his head up on his arm, watching as Taehyung starts removing his shoes one after the other, peeling his remaining clothing from his body without a word. “I want you now.”
Taehyung waggles a finger in front of him. “In due time, baby,” he says, placing a hand on Jimin’s thigh as he admires all of the skin he’s just exposed.
Jimin’s body is a work of art. His legs are much shorter than Taehyung’s, but they’re toned and lean and even in the low light, his golden skin seems to shine—he’s fucking beautiful. If Jimin had been alive in centuries past, he’s certain Michael Angelo would’ve sculpted him, that his statue would be the envy of museums everywhere. Tracing a vein along the inside of his thigh, he crawls down between them, smiling as one of Jimin’s calves comes to rest over his shoulder, warmth spreading over his back.
“Is this okay?” he asks, voice so soft even he can barely hear it.
“You know it is,” Jimin replies, teasing but endeared, watching him through hooded eyes as Taehyung plants a series of kisses along the inside of his thigh. “You don’t have to ask.”
“I want to.” Taehyung’s lips brush against his skin one last time, then he places an open mouthed kiss to Jimin’s hole, tongue only just pressing inside him as his band-mate gasps for air. He fights back a laugh at the breathy whisper of his name he gets in response, pressing his tongue flat against his entrance, moving slowly, but with just enough pressure he can feel Jimin fighting the urge to writhe against him.
But he can feel every little twitch of his hips against him, every quiver, every little shake as Taehyung presses his tongue inside, moving slowly, not wanting to push him too far too fast. It’s been a while since they’ve done this, any of it, and he knows Jimin’s body almost as well as he knows his own, but he still explores it like it’s the first time.
Jimin whimpers as Taehyung licks at him in long, slow strokes, and he can feel his eyes on him but he won’t look. He just explores, fingers mapping out every tiny detail of Jimin’s thighs as he keeps them spread apart, tracing every little dip and curve he finds. Each spot reveals something new to him, his lips slowly drifting away from Jimin’s ass in order to place kisses along the skin of his other thigh.
Each one earns him another shiver, his friend’s whole body trembling as Taehyung pulls back, tracing his favorite parts of Jimin’s body with his lips. He traces the little curve of his hips, pressing gentle kisses along the left first, then the right. All the while, he can feel Jimin’s fingers stroking through his hair, nails grazing against his scalp—almost as if Jimin is mapping him, too.
Now trembling slightly, Taehyung slowly traces the center of his abdomen. He pushes his shirt up with every inch he explores, fingers following the outline of each muscle until they drift over the letters of the tattoo beneath his pectoral muscle. The “NEVERMIND” is barely visible in the dark, but he places a kiss along each letter in reverse order, making it all the way to the R before Jimin tugs on his hair, groaning softly. “What are you doing?”
Taehyung giggles softly against his skin, tongue coming out to brush against a hardened nipple as he holds him close. “Taking my time,” he replies, kissing him there again, open-mouthed, tongue swirling around his nipple as Jimin gasps his name.
“Do you have to?”
“I want to,” he tells him, resting his chin over Jimin’s sternum, his fingers lazily brushing his shirt aside to glide over his other nipple, feeling the skin pebble beneath his touch. “I’ve missed you.”
Jimin laughs, a hand falling to caress Taehyung’s cheek as he sighs. “You see me all the time, Tae.” Another giggle spills free as Taehyung’s kisses come back up toward his collarbone. “We talk almost every day.”
“Not like this,” Taehyung whispers against one of the bruises he’d left earlier. “I’ve missed being with you like this.”
A smile parts Jimin’s lips as he places a kiss to Taehyung’s temple, hands drifting down to his shoulders. “Then ask me for it more often, you know where to find me.”
“I will,” he promises, palm cupping Jimin’s jaw to tilt his head back as he places three more kisses to the column of his throat. “I will.”
Relieved sighs leave Jimin as Taehyung places one last kiss to the corner of his mouth, then he finally reunites their lips, kissing him sweetly as warmth pools low in his belly. As much as Jimin wants this, Taehyung thinks he wants it twice as much, and as much as he’s enjoying taking his time, he thinks he’s done enough exploring.
Pulling away, Taehyung sits back on his knees, eyes locked on Jimin’s as he tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it over to the pile he’d started with his band-mate’s pants. A blush spreads over his cheeks when he catches his friend’s eyes wandering over his upper body, tracing the outline of muscles and the moles that dot his skin. Fingers trembling, he undoes the button of his jeans, both of them breathing hard as he peels them from his body, then reaches for the drawer beside the table.
There’s a rustling sound beside him as Jimin finally removes his shirt, and Taehyung watches out of the corners of his eyes as he pulls the drawer open, searching for the lube he’d placed there this morning. He finds it quickly, then he pauses, frowning when he realizes what’s not there. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I don’t have any condoms.”
“I don’t care,” Jimin replies, reaching up to tug on Taehyung’s hand, pulling him back down to his side as he brushes a few raven waves from his face. “You did just eat my ass without any protection anyway.”
“Well, most of my sexual partners are you or our band-mates.”
An amused snort rumbles in Jimin’s chest, then he shakes his head, taking the hand holding the little lube bottle in his. Slowly, he peels his fingers away, Taehyung’s heart racing in his chest as he pops the cap open with his little pinky. It beats a little faster as he pours it over his fingers, and Taehyung rubs it between them, coating each one in a thick layer as Jimin sets the bottle down on the nightstand.
Tongue coming out to wet his lips, Taehyung settles himself between Jimin’s knees once more, spreading them with the heels of his palms. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, causing Jimin to scoff. “You don’t have to be rude.”
Jimin laughs as he pulls down on Taehyung’s shoulders, the sound of it almost musical when accompanied by the pure joy in his eyes. “I love you, stupid.”
Though he’s just been insulted, Taehyung turns his head to kiss the inside of Jimin’s thigh, right by his knee. “I love you, too,” he says, fingers brushing gently against the skin around Jimin’s hole, spreading the lube around his entrance. Looking back up into Jimin’s eyes, he watches his friend’s chest rise and fall with a shaky breath, then he presses his finger inside him, pushing gently though he feels no resistance.
“You don’t have to go slow,” Jimin whines, even though they both know Taehyung knows this.
He winks at him as he pushes his finger all the way to the hilt, the ensuing moan going straight to his cock. Jimin lifts his hips as he starts to move his finger, pressing slowly in and out until he’s had a second to adjust. It’s hard to see, but he can tell Jimin’s lip is quivering, his fingers trembling as they reach for his cock, stroking himself as Taehyung presses a second finger inside of him.
There’s something in Jimin’s eyes when he looks at him, something Taehyung is familiar with but hasn’t seen in too long. Sometimes he thinks he understands it, that he can make sense of the way Jimin watches him when they fuck—though when he’s looking at him like this, he thinks they might be making love. It’s no secret that what he feels for Jimin and what Jimin feels for him is something profound and deep, transcending the boundaries of friendship and romance.
In every possible sense of the word, Jimin is his soulmate—even if there’s no physical way of proving it, he knows.
It doesn’t scare him. Maybe it should, but it feels wonderful to indulge in this feeling, to join himself with Jimin, even if they’ve only just started. Taehyung’s fingers curl within him, earning him a pitchy cry of his name, Jimin’s voice going all light and airy like it does when he sings—his moans are perhaps the prettiest song of all. It’s hard not to fall a little in love with him when he looks and sounds like this.
You’re so fucking beautiful, Taehyung thinks, fingering him a little deeper as Jimin’s hands grip tightly at his shoulders, squeezing hard as his head tilts up, and he can tell he’s close. For another couple of seconds, he watches him, listening to the soft sounds of his breathing, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
Already, Jimin shines with a light sheen of sweat. Part of Taehyung almost feels guilty—they’ve showered once tonight, and after this, he knows they’re going to need to again. Wasting water must be a new favorite pastime of his, though, because he has no intention of stopping this.
Pulling his fingers out earns him a delicate whimper, Jimin’s fingers curling up into his hair the way they’d done onstage, and god, if this isn’t where he’s wanted to be all night—where he always wants to be, even in the uncertain days ahead. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers, and Jimin scoffs his offense as Taehyung crawls over him, placing a sweet kiss over his heart. He can feel it beating in his chest for half a second before he moves on, face hovering briefly over Jimin’s before he kisses him again properly.
Jimin melts into him, head falling back against the pillow as Taehyung’s body settles over his. Why he’s shaking when his hands guide his cock toward his entrance, Taehyung doesn’t know, maybe he’s cold or maybe he’s just emotional, but he pushes inside of him as their lips part, just in time to hear the softly whispered, “Taehyung,” that leaves his soulmate.
Like everything he’s done up until now, Taehyung moves slowly, almost agonizingly slow. He’s prepared him well, but Jimin is tight around him, sensation shooting through his body at a million miles an hour, and Taehyung’s eyes clench shut as he gasps. One of Jimin’s hands tugs gently at his hair, pulling him down until their foreheads rest together, and he smiles at the contact, pressing a little further in as one of his arms slips beneath the curve of his back.
He wants to hold Jimin while they do this, wants to keep him close, and at this new angle, he can push in even deeper, only stopping when Jimin’s nails dig into his scalp. “That’s good,” he tells him.
“Did I hurt you?”
Jimin laughs as he shakes his head. “No. It hasn’t been that long.” The nails at his scalp graze it gently until his fingers come to rest over the curve of Taehyung’s cheek. “I’m just at my limit.”
“Okay,” Taehyung replies, then he falls quiet, his free hand taking hold of one of Jimin’s, holding it as they settle in this new position.
Several seconds tick by, every nerve in Taehyung’s body alive and alert, his blood drained entirely into his impossibly hard cock, and he knows for his body’s sake he should move soon, but he wants to commit this to memory. Just the simple pleasure of being inside of Jimin is enough, enough that he’ll always remember this as nothing but perfect. They’ll do it again, he knows, again and again, and much more frequently, but each time means something.
Everything tonight meant something. It meant so fucking much.
Taehyung kisses him when he moves again, Jimin’s lips moving with his in time to the gentle, lazy thrusts he gives. Their fingers lace together beside the pillow, Jimin’s little pinky tracing the outline of Taehyung’s, comforting him as he deepens the kiss. His lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, but he presses on, exchanging slow kisses with Jimin even as he picks up the pace with his thrusts.
Both of them moan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, already half-fighting the urge to come then and there, but somehow, he holds himself together. “Fuck,” he breathes, kissing him again before he pulls back, lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as he pants, fucking him a little faster, a little harder. “Jimin…”
Full lips press kisses to his cheeks, Taehyung’s heart racing even faster in his chest as Jimin swears quietly into his ear. The swears grow louder as he grinds against him, and Taehyung laughs when he takes his cock in his hand once more, stroking himself in time with each thrust. “Go faster,” he whimpers, sounding on the brink of sobs. “Please.”
Tightening the grip he has on Jimin’s hand, he waits until he feels him squeeze back before he honors that request. Pressure builds low in his belly, and he knows already that he’s getting close, that he’s going to come in a matter of seconds. Jimin keens against him, a shouted chorus of, “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes—“ leaving his lips as Taehyung buries his face in his neck.
Don’t come yet, he thinks to himself, gasping for air as if it’ll make his head any clearer. Jimin feels so fucking good around him, warm and wet and tight, and he’s going to fall apart—he’s going to die right here right now, lost in heaven. It’s a great way to go.
“I’m gonna come,” he whispers, thrusts becoming staggered, their beat lost but still quick. “I-I should pull ou—“
Latching another leg over his hip, Jimin tugs him even further in, shaking his head as he lets go of his cock to grip the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Come inside me,” he says, a please invisible and yet loud in his words. “Come for me, Tae…”
And he does. Taehyung’s teeth nip at Jimin’s skin as his vision explodes in stars. Heat rushes through his body, his orgasm overwhelming and wonderful, and he digs his nails into the back of Jimin’s hand to keep himself rooted to reality. It would be incredible to lose himself to this, but as Jimin grows tighter around him, he finds he wants to hear him, too.
The sounds Jimin makes when he comes make Taehyung come even harder. Fuck, he can feel come fall against his chest, warm, wet, and definitely gross, but he doesn’t care. He cries out against his neck, praying his shouts aren’t heard in the next room over if anyone is occupying it. Any worry about outside observers passes though as he starts to come down, one of Jimin’s hands coming to rest on his thigh as they pant together in the aftermath.
That hand keeps him settled, grounds him as he pulls out of him, both of them moaning softly as Taehyung looks down at Jimin, taking in the sight of his come-covered chest, the flushed color of his cheeks. He’s beautiful like this—fucked-out and happy Jimin is easily his favorite Jimin of all, especially with his hair nice and long the way it is now, all fanned out and ruffled around him, tangled up in parts like some kind of bird’s nest and yet indisputably sexy. Laughter leaves him as he brushes a couple of strands from his eyes, causing Jimin to smile just before he kisses him.
It’s a simple, close-mouthed kiss that lingers for only a matter of seconds, but it gives him that warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach that makes him feel safe, comfortable, like he’s home. And when it’s over, he rests his forehead against Jimin’s, closing his eyes as his soulmate’s thumb brushes gently over his thigh. “Jimin…”
“I know,” he whispers, leaning up for another kiss as he lets go of Taehyung’s hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “We have to do this more often.”
“Yeah, maybe then you won’t proposition me on stage.”
“Fuck it. We should do this on the damn stage. In front of everyone.”
“We would get arrested.”
“Okay, then we’ll have sex in jail, too.”
Taehyung laughs as he smacks his side. “Jimin.”
Little giggles fill the air as Jimin turns them on their sides with a shift of his hips, his fingers coming to rest a little lower on his thigh. He can feel them against the place he’d gotten his “7” tattoo a while back, that bond thrumming hot and heavy between them, invisible and unreal, but so important all the same. “I love your laugh,” he admits, tracing the tattoo even if he can’t see it—of course he knows exactly where it is in the dark. Jimin always knows. “Wish I could hear it more often.”
Shifting onto his back, Taehyung sighs, pulling Jimin into the embrace of his left arm, his head coming to rest on his shoulder. “You hear it every day.”
“I want to hear it every hour.”
“I feel like that much smiling would hurt.”
“But it’d be worth it,” Jimin says, then he turns his head, planting a kiss in the crook of Taehyung’s neck and shoulder. “It’s starting to get cold.”
Taehyung snorts, reaching beneath them for the blankets. Now that the air has settled between them, it is starting to get kind of cold, and even though it’s October, they’ve still got the AC cranked pretty low. Once he has the sheets settled over them both, he looks down at the man in his arms. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.”
Closing his eyes, Taehyung rests his chin over the crown of Jimin’s head, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his waist, wishing he never has to let him go. “Stay with me tonight.”
“Okay,” Jimin replies, placing a tender kiss to his neck. “We should—“ YAWN “we should sleep.”
“You don’t want me to clean you off first?”
“… maybe in twenty minutes, just…” Jimin sighs, melting into him, his body becoming heavy as he rests a leg over both of Taehyung’s. “Just let me sleep.”
“I’ll wake you up soon, then.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” Taehyung whispers, then he presses another kiss into the tangled mess of Jimin’s hair. “Go to sleep, Chim, I’ll watch over you.”
Jimin hums. “Night, Tae.”
Taehyung whispers a quiet, “Goodnight,” in return, but he doubts Jimin hears it. By the time he finishes the last syllable, his band-mate is already asleep, soft little snores filling the room as he watches over him, making sure nothing bad happens to his soulmate as he takes his well deserved rest.