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⮞⮞⮞
There were three pairs of hands, this much he could tell.
Jimin could still hear them shuffling and whispering around him, their voices low and secretive.
Three shadowy intruders, who had been waiting for him inside his own apartment, jumping him so fast that he only had time to glimpse their full-face masks—plain, white and unsettling in the semi-darkness—before they were blindfolding him, dragging him, and slapping tape over his mouth.
They tied him down to a chair—his own chair!—with such alarming speed and precision, that left no room for any other thought but, Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Fuck!
It was almost as if they knew exactly what they were doing, where to go, what to do inside his own apartment.
He was rarely even here these past couple of weeks, and the one time he decided to come home, this happened!
Jimin sighed and groaned into his gag, his head tipping forward to the relentless tug of fatigue, wanting nothing more than to give in to the pitch black darkness surrounding him.
He’s taut and aching all over.
At this point, he honestly didn't care what these fuckers planned to do with him, just as long as they could let him sleep through it.
He really should've just crashed under his office desk and saved himself the trouble—
The sound of the fridge door opening snapped Jimin’s attention to his left. A rush of cold, stale air washed over his face, sharp and biting against the lingering warmth of the room.
"Whoa, it's like Elsa’s castle in here!" someone exclaimed, muffled voice echoing in the mostly empty fridge.
"Oi, what are you doing?!" came a muffled squeak.
That scolding tone. That shockingly familiar voice.
This time, Jimin's head shot up, his breath and heartbeat colliding in his throat.
The first voice murmured back, now louder and less muffled. "There's corn ice cream here. I think Jiminie-hyung's saving it for me. Oops—!"
A slap on the back of a head cracked the air, followed by a sharp, impatient hiss, “You dumbass!”
What the hell?!
Realization froze Jimin’s world for an entire second before the truth came crashing on him, one freaking name at a time—
Hobi-hyung?
Jungkookie?
Yoongi-hyung?!
These weren’t robbers! They were his very dear friends!
The shock of it jolted Jimin out of his tired slump as the belated surge of adrenaline pumped through his veins with a vengeance. His chest clenched with confusion, then burst into fiery anger. He snorted as he struggled to breathe evenly through his nose.
Fuckers!
I’m going to wring your necks!
How dare you!
How fucking dare you!
He thrashed against his bindings, grunting like a cornered animal, almost tipping the chair over, frustrated screams muffled by tape.
The fridge door closed, followed by the crinkle of packaging.
He had indeed been saving that ice cream for Jungkook. Like a doting big brother, he was all about spoiling his dongsaeng.
Now, he wanted nothing more than to shove that ice cream down the traitor’s throat!
And Hoseok!
How could his sweet, fun-loving, and mostly harmless hyung be part of this cruel betrayal?!
Not to mention Min-fucking-Yoongi!
Undoubtedly an annoying son of a bitch, but who had also always been the most protective son of a bitch he'd ever had in his corner.
What the hell was going on?! What the fuck was this about?!
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed around the room as something hard was slammed down on the kitchen counter. Jimin held his breath, his body tensing up as he fought hard to stay still.
He caught the unmistakable sound of a phone dialing, followed by Yoongi's voice. Loud, clear and undisguised.
Was that his mask he had just whacked on the counter?
"Where the hell are you?!” the guy spat out, each word dripping poison. “I told you this was a stupid idea!” He paused and listened. “Well, Jungkook just blew our cover. And if I have to stay another minute here, I might as well just untie Jimi—What?! I owe you nothing, you dirty piece of sh—!” Yoongi’s sigh sounded heavy, weighed down by reluctant surrender, the vitriol in his voice tapping out. “How much longer? Yeah, okay. We're leaving. You better hurry. And if I see one mark on him that’s unaccounted for, you know we can find you—!” His voice rose again, sharp and threatening. “Of course, we’ll check! You think that’s weird?! It’s bad enough that we’re leaving him like this with you! Don’t test my patience, kid!”
The conversation gave Jimin chills. Who the hell was he even talking to?! And what dirt did this person have on his hyung?
And what did he mean they were leaving him like this?!
Leaving me to whom?!
Another sigh from Yoongi, deeper this time. "Fine, fine! Just get here before I change my mind."
The call ended with a crisp click, leaving a heavy silence hanging in the air.
Jimin’s head throbbed, drooping forward once again, as though his entire body had just remembered he did come here to sleep.
Or die.
Or whichever one came first.
A gentle pat on his cheek and Hoseok’s voice pulled him back from the edge. “Just relax, Jiminie.”
Then, Yoongi’s firm, but soothing fingers rubbed his nape. "Breathe, you idiot..."
Jungkook patted his shoulder next, the sound of him munching on his ice cream loud and obnoxious in the tense silence. “Thanks, Hyung. I’ll bring you pear juice next time.”
Jimin could only grunt into his gag, his struggles pointedly ignored as the door clicked shut, leaving him alone in the eerie quiet. He willed his breath to calm down, counting in his head as he tried to steady his heartbeat.
He couldn't even feel scared now. The overwhelming feelings of anger and betrayal barely gave him space to think and breathe.
They really left…
His so-called friends had really just left him like this!
Those ungrateful sons of bitches!
The door creaked open again. Jimin's breath stalled, all internal chaos grinding to a halt as he listened to the footsteps approaching him from behind.
Slow, heavy, deliberate.
A quiet whimper escaped his throat, his body straining desperately against the bindings. The limited freedom, the helplessness of his situation, began to overwhelm him tenfold.
Oh, there would be hell to pay, for sure! Those assholes better start running!
His breath hitched as a gentle hand cupped his chin, lifting his face. A thumb brushed over the tape-gag, lightly tracing his lips.
It made him gulp, sent his head spinning—
A whisper, deep and smooth like velvet, sliced through the tension. “Hey…”
It was like God himself had parted the clouds.
Holy…!
At that moment, a mild familiar scent brushed against Jimin’s nose, rattling his senses even more than the initial panic.
It was calming.
“Jiminah…”
Relaxing.
“Baby…”
Lavender…
“How come you trust Jungkook with your door code when you can’t even tell me where you live?”
…shit—!
⮜⮜⮜
Kim Taehyung could be anything he wanted to be, and be the best damn version of it.
He even had an entire shelf of acting awards to show for it, if anyone should disagree.
But tonight, he was a charmer with a price tag, and failing at it big time.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” The guy with the flushed cheeks and sinfully juicy pout looked at him like he had just said the silliest pick-up line. “You’re a what?”
Taehyung blinked, caught between a moral urge to pull away and a more potent need to stay still, stay close, perhaps lean even closer, to bask in this giggly stranger’s warm, rum-scented breath wafting over his face.
The guy wasn’t even trying, didn’t even make much of an effort to fit in.
It was almost as if he had stumbled upon this place by accident, shrugged and thought, What the hell! then just walked right in. Looking so drab and displaced, dressed in blacks and grays from head to foot, that he ended up sticking out like a livid sore thumb against the vibrant backdrop of the bustling bar.
“I said, I’m a…” Taehyung's throat tightened when the guy casually rested his chin on his hand and gazed expectantly into his eyes. Smirking, taunting. The stray strands of black hair peeking out from his oversized black beanie made his face look daintier than legally possible, it almost prompted Taehyung to scold the bartender for not asking this one for an ID.
How many drinks had this guy downed anyway? When Taehyung spotted him, he was already slightly swaying in his seat, his face deeply flushed, as if the dim bar lights had sunburned him.
Taehyung didn’t even bother taking a seat, opting instead to stand as close as he dared to a guy he barely knew, draping an arm over the backrest of said guy’s bar stool to signal to everyone that this one was bagged and tagged for the night.
A handful had tried. A handful more were still circling like sharks.
Everyone wanted to see what this gorgeous stray looked like underneath all that loose fabric.
Taehyung didn’t come here for this.
Yet, he knew he wasn’t leaving here without this, either.
Not that he was overly eager to see the guy naked, though he certainly wouldn’t say no to that, too.
He’s not a saint.
But he also wasn’t dick enough to just leave a wasted guy like this, in a place like this, all by himself.
Taehyung cleared his throat, his brows and lips twitching as he ran the line through his head again, trying hard not to get lost in those eyes, or drown in the intoxicating heat of that sweet, rum breath.
“I’m a tag with a charming price…” No, that didn’t sound right. “A price with a charm tag…” Wait—
“Just say whore.” The guy sneered, leaning back and casually swirling the rum in his glass, not even realizing he had shifted much of his weight onto Taehyung’s arm, still draped protectively over his bar stool.
“I prefer hustler, actually…” Taehyung countered, his eyes narrowing with concern as he noticed the guy had been drinking his rum neat. No ice, no caution. His fists clenched instinctively, fingers digging into his palms.
The guy shrugged. “Same difference.” He tossed back the rest of his drink in one defiant gulp, then set the glass on the counter, whistling and gesturing for the bartender to fill him up again.
Taehyung adjusted his ball cap, intending to catch the bartender’s attention. Tugging the cap down low over his eyes, he met Jin’s gaze sideways and gave the slightest shake of his head.
Jin, understanding the silent instruction, flashed a smile at the guy and suggested, “How about switching it up with something a bit lighter for now, yeah?” He cracked a bottle of beer open and set it on the counter. “Boss says this one’s on the house.” He winked and threw Taehyung a quick, discreet glance.
The guy hesitated before gripping the cold, condensing bottle. "Thanks, I guess…" He absentmindedly twirled the bottle in his hands, thick lips nonchalantly jutting out, and mercilessly tossing Taehyung’s needy ass back into disarray.
In his defense, those lips were wickedly distracting. Unexpectedly blunt, too.
He couldn’t wait to test them, taste them, and not show them mercy—
“It’s especially hot in here tonight huh, Hyung?” the guy mused, frown intensifying the already fatal pout. “Or is it just me?
“It’s you, Jiminah,” Jin gushed. “Everytime you come here, you’re like a walking critical strike.” He shot finger guns in the air. “Bam! Bam! Bam! Just knocking everyone’s filthy socks off all around you!”
“Hyung, what?” The guy let out an embarrassed chuckle, but didn’t bother looking around. Eyes fixed on his beer bottle, squishy lips mumbling in a small voice, “It’s not like that at all…”
It was Taehyung who looked, consciously shifting closer and gripping the bar stool as gaze after predatory gaze got caught and turned away. What the actual fuck…
He knew the guy, whose name was apparently Jimin, had been turning heads all damn night. But he hadn’t quite gauged just how much.
Never mind critical strikes. It was more like this guy had a built-in spotlight, and every single person from miles around was watching.
And had he just been trying to flirt with Jin—?!
“You’ve been here before?” Taehyung’s tone came out rougher than he intended, his brows knitted closer than was probably appropriate.
“A couple of times.” Jimin shrugged, eyes never straying from the bartender. “Didn’t know your boss was here…”
Jin cleared his throat. “Yeah, he likes to keep an eye on things.” He leaned in, dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and even dared to flick Jimin’s soft, delicate chin. “Don’t let your guard down, pretty boy.”
Taehyung’s jaw clenched as he glared at the bartender, who also happened to be his business partner and long-time friend. Leaning out of Jimin’s periphery, he tilted his head aggressively, warning Jin to back off.
Jimin, drunk and oblivious as he was, took it all in stride, laughing heartily as Jin blew him a kiss and walked away. He even gave a squeaky, little start when Taehyung said his name, as though he had already forgotten Taehyung was even there.
The little flirt…
“I’m sorry, what were you saying again?” Jimin asked, smiling and looking into Taehyung’s eyes like he hadn’t just been flirting with someone else.
“You were calling me a whore.”
Jimin lifted a teasing eyebrow, “I thought you preferred hustler?”
“Right…” Taehyung grinned, flashing his confident, boxy smile as he mentally sifted through the script in his head.
This pretty little tease had been delivering all the wrong lines back to him, but somehow, this real-life scene was turning out far better than any scripted dialogue he had ever had to practice.
His clueless co-star was playing along naturally, perfectly, and Taehyung decided it was time to lay all his cards down. “So how about you hustle me out of here so I can show you just how much of a hustler I can be?”
Jimin raised his beer and pressed its cold, perspiring neck to Taehyung’s cheek, matching his low, flirtatious tone, “I can’t pay you money…”
“I’ll do you for free—I mean…” Hold on, was that even in the script?
Was he still playing a role, or had this become something more real?
It hardly mattered now as Jimin giggled, set his beer back down and pulled something out from his pocket, unfolding it and sliding it towards Taehyung. “Baby, I don’t take things for free…”
“What’s this?” Taehyung asked, glancing at the movie ticket, and almost choking on his heart upon seeing the title. It was a cheesy rom-com he’s all too familiar with, currently playing in theaters worldwide. “You like this kind of movie?”
“Not anymore.”
Taehyung's brow furrowed, his gut tightening like he had just been sucker-punched by the weight of those two words. “Was it… that bad…?”
Jimin snorted and averted his gaze, unknowingly leaning into Taehyung’s arm again.
This time, Taehyung dared to rest his hand on the surprisingly small waist. The guy didn’t seem to mind.
“I was supposed to watch that with someone who stood me up and later texted me that we probably should stop seeing each other.”
Taehyung’s hands clenched into fists again. “Bastard.”
“Yeah. I bought that for him and they won’t refund me anymore, so you can have it.”
Suddenly, everything made sense—the drinking, the drabby clothes, the reckless disregard for his own well-being.
Taehyung couldn’t imagine how this movie, despite not being his finest work, would forever be tainted with such a heartbreaking memory for someone else.
Especially not this someone.
He felt a strong urge to make amends.
“I’ll take it,” Taehyung said, consciously pulling his cap lower, not wanting to risk getting found out too soon.
“Cool,” Jimin replied casually, sipping his beer and not making any move to leave.
“So?”
Jimin hummed into the bottle. “Hmmm?”
“Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
Taehyung felt a spark of frustration as he took the ticket and stuffed it into his jeans. He was seriously losing patience for this guy’s push-and-pull flirting. “I’m taking the ticket as payment, so let’s go… hustle.”
“Ah, geez,” Jimin stuttered, his giggles nervous and breathy as he gave Taehyung’s chest a playful shove. “I was just playing with you, you whore! Just take the ticket. It’s yours.”
“Baby, I don’t take things for free, either.” Taehyung’s already deep voice deepened still, his tone almost ominous, no-nonsense. It made Jimin croak, sit back and pay attention. “I owe you the best night of your life, so…” He offered his hand like a gentleman, letting Jimin know it’s his choice, though his expression made it clear there was really just one option, “...let’s go.”
⮞⮞⮞
Jimin had almost forgotten how gentle this guy could be. Or how much he missed these long fingers cradling his jaw, keeping his face steady—softly, firmly—as though Jimin was a fragile flower all his to own and protect.
It filled Jimin’s chest with warmth, keeping him calm, amidst each painful tug as Kim Taehyung carefully peeled off the tape stuck to his lips, mumbling assurances and blowing on the tender areas whenever Jimin whined at a particularly biting sting.
The whole process was slow and unnecessarily meticulous. The remorseful guy was taking his time, clearly nervous about pulling too hard and tearing off skin.
Jimin found himself relaxing into it.
Of course, he’s still pissed and would probably still kill his friends the next time they showed up. Maybe even punch this guy’s face a couple of times too while he’s at it.
But his nerves were mostly calming down now.
It’s that lavender-scented moisturizer the guy was always slathering on himself. It had always done weird things to Jimin’s mind.
“Ssshhh, almost there…”
Jimin felt the final bit of tape ease off, then Taehyung’s thumbs were instantly brushing over his lips.
Then, light kisses followed, each one framed by warm breath and murmured apologies.
It was all so loving and sweet and everything Jimin had missed. And he was starting to feel like he could almost forgive this guy for anything.
Almost—
“You bastard.” Jimin wheezed, turning away from the onslaught of affection. “Why’d you have to drag my friends into this?”
He heard more than sensed Taehyung’s movement. The soft rustle of fabric and the slight shift in the air laced with the lingering scent of lavender, told him the guy had just knelt before him. He felt fingers brushing along his ankle, light and feathery over his sock. “You told me to try and bond with them.”
“By conspiring to scare the crap out of me?!”
“Only because you’ve been avoiding me for weeks, Jiminah! I am still your boyfriend, you know?!”
“You’re not…I mean…” Jimin bit back the rest of his knee-jerk quip, his chin quivering.
Taehyung tutted sharply, somehow maintaining gentle hands as he pulled off Jimin’s shoes.
In the chaos of the ambush, Jimin hadn’t even had a chance to remove them himself. “What did those bastards sell me out for?” he asked, a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, to mask his own discomfort.
“Not much.” Taehyung heaved as he stood up. “They’re really worried about you.”
His movements suggested he was heading to the entrance hall, possibly taking Jimin’s shoes there, likely recalling how particular Jimin was about keeping these things in order.
It brought a slight flutter to Jimin’s heart, despite the tension.
It also helped add a layer of assurance and comfort to the knowledge that he was in a safe space with a safe person.
“Let me guess,” he scoffed, his tone curious and mocking, “some branded clothes for Hobi-hyung, a couple bottles of whiskey for Jungkookie, and the latest high-end camping equipment for Yoongi-hyung.”
“Well, actually…” Taehyung was behind him now, hands massaging his shoulders, a hint of a chuckle in his voice, “...just a week’s worth of socks, a pack of banana milk, and a bagful of tangerines.”
“Dicks…” Jimin spat out, a wry smile twitching at one corner of his lips.
Taehyung knelt down again, warm breath flitting along his arms. “Like I said, they’re worried. I am, too. What are you even doing to yourself, Jiminah?” His fingers were on the binding around Jimin’s wrists, brushing and tugging but never undoing. “First, you move houses without telling me. Won’t answer my calls, practically blocking me out of your life!” Taehyung stood up, piquing Jimin’s curiosity, sparking the heat of anticipation in his core. “And this new place looks depressing! So empty! You can’t even buy yourself a couch?”
Jimin shrugged. “I hardly live here.”
“So, I’ve heard.”
“And I’ve already got this chair.”
“Great choice, by the way. Very sturdy.” Taehyung was rubbing Jimin’s arms now, his palms firm and soothing against the smooth, thin fabric of Jimin’s dress shirt. “I think I’m gonna like it.”
“I’m not giving it away.”
Taehyung was moving again, circling around to stand in front of him. “Who says I’m taking it?”
A shudder ran through Jimin as he felt Taehyung leaning into his space, the softest brush of hands against his thighs.
Then, the chair was suddenly moving, making Jimin yelp as short, sharp bursts of Taehyung’s warm breath hit his face.
The guy was maneuvering the chair across the floor, wooden legs squeaking loudly, until its back bumped lightly against something solid—likely a wall—securing it in place.
“Ah, shit…” Jimin gasped as the anticipation that had been coiling in his core burst into a full-blown flame—hot and wanting.
He knew what Taehyung wanted. This was all the clarification he needed.
The growing tightness in his pants made his hips jerk slightly, caught between a shameless need for release and a stubborn will to stay still.
He just wanted to sleep, for god’s sake!
But sleep was the furthest from his mind right now.
Because, goddammit, he wanted this, too—!
Jimin hissed. “Fuck you, whore…! Let me go…!”
“Tsk, so impatient…” Taehyung’s fingers were on his tie, unknoting knots. “And I prefer hustler…” Then, on his dress shirt, unbuttoning buttons.
A feverish flush buzzed through Jimin’s clammy skin, heightening the delicious torture of his bonds, the forbidden pleasure of his arousal, all wrapped together in the unexpectedly exquisite thrill of his blindfolded agony.
"Uh, Tae?"
"Hmmm..." Taehyung hummed, pulling Jimin’s shirt open and yanking the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, completely exposing his torso to the chilly air and Taehyung’s less forgiving mercy. “Got any special request, Mr. Park?”
Jimin could lie and say he didn’t want this. At least, not like this.
He couldn’t not be in control.
But his nipples were already tight and hard, and all the blood and oxygen meant for his brain seemed to have rerouted to his pants, making him swell and throb down there, and just flailing lost in a lusty haze up top.
He didn’t want this.
But he also wanted nothing more than this—
"I… I don’t have a movie ticket…”
Taehyung’s hands felt light and scorching on Jimin’s shoulders as he lowered himself onto his lap—
Holy crap!
—really digging himself into Jimin’s seething erection—
Sweet Jesus!
—and pressing his own naked chest against Jimin’s thrumming skin—
“Tae…”
“It’s okay, baby…”
Jimin felt the tip of Taehyung’s tongue tracing the outline of his ear, the guy’s raspy breath a searing whisper against his cheek—
“I still owe you for the last one…”
⮜⮜⮜
Taehyung didn’t really have a plan.
Well, he did, but meeting Park Jimin had thrown bolts, nuts, and wrenches at it—the entire freaking toolbox of disruption and chaos—that he literally had to remind himself to breathe.
Breathe in… Now out… That’s right… You’re doing good… Again…
The barely functioning guy, brain melting and heart pounding in his ears, stared straight ahead at the glaring red of the traffic signal in front of him.
Desperately trying to latch the remaining strand of his sanity on something concrete.
Trying not to focus too much on Park-freaking-Jimin being latched on some other part of his being—
Running lines with random strangers at the bar had always been Taehyung’s thing. Something he did to practice and refine his delivery, make the lines sound more realistic, while also interacting and getting sincere feedback from real people.
None of his random encounters had ever panned out like this, though. Ever since his career took flight, he’d always been cautious about maintaining a squeaky-clean, scandal-free reputation.
But the one time he met someone who didn’t immediately scream in his face and fawn all over him, whatever reason he had against flirting and hooking up with potential trouble vanished down the drain.
And here he was now, cursing and swearing blind devotion to every deity he knew, as he locked his gaze on a traffic light.
Willing it to freeze.
Hoping it would break somehow and not change for the next hour.
Or the next day.
Or ever.
So he could stay here longer.
So he could just drown in these intoxicating sensations for the rest of his life—
What was it he had wanted to make up for with this guy again? He couldn’t remember anymore.
God could drop an entire house on his head at this point, along with the wrenches and shit, and it wouldn’t matter.
The midnight air might be cold and biting outside, but inside the car, the heat was nearly suffocating, fogging up the windows with steam and the shattered remnants of Taehyung’s common sense.
All because sometime in the night, Park Jimin had laid his frisky little hand on Taehyung’s thigh, rubbing and squeezing with clear, dirty intentions, lips twitching into a leery smile.
And the next thing Taehyung knew, his entire world was narrowing down to the pair of soft, thick lips wrapping shamelessly around his cock, sinking all the way down to his pubes, taking him further than anyone had ever dared.
These sweet plush lips, this supple piece of tongue, this slick grip of a dexterous hand, all working him into a very potent mix of panic and pleasure that got him knackered and twisted in places he didn’t even know could get knackered and twisted until tonight.
“Oh… shit… Jiminah!” His mind was going blank again, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel, the leather cool and slick under his sweaty palms. His eyes fluttered shut, rolling halfway into his head as he groaned and threw his full weight against his seat.
Jimin’s mouth was hot. So damn hot. And relentless. Wet and scandalously loud, too.
Taehyung worried cars from miles around could hear these delicious slurping noises meant for his ears alone. The forbidden pleasure of it made his heart race, almost undoing him right then and there.
Whatever this was he had gotten himself into, he wasn’t regretting it.
If this guy wanted to violate him in any way—And, oh fuck! That felt so good just now!—he was free to do as he pleased.
And if that traffic signal got stuck on red, and his cock could stay in perpetual confinement inside Park Jimin’s mouth, he knew he would never ask for anything more.
He consciously pulled his cap down, even though there were no other cars on either side of his lane, suddenly wary that someone—perhaps, a paparazzo with a telephoto lens three blocks down—might see him and his filthy thoughts through the tinted windows.
He wouldn’t even put it past those creeps.
The thrill and paranoia of it added a layer of heat to Taehyung’s nerves.
Of course, they could not see him from outside.
But what if they could…
What if they could—
“Oh, damn… Baby…”
Taehyung bucked into Jimin’s face, only then realizing half his butt had already spilled out of his jeans and his underwear, and was now grinding on the worn leather seat, leaving his cock and his balls fully exposed and unprotected against the onslaught of Jimin’s mouth.
Yet, he held Jimin’s head down all the same. Biting his lip as he savored every second of it. Growling at the thought of quite possibly doing this all night.
Right on this empty road, in this compact space that were both theirs to claim and share.
This wasn’t even his car, though.
He figured driving a Maserati on a quiet, late-night road would draw too much attention. Jin’s old black sedan felt like a safer choice, so he had secretly swapped car keys before leaving the bar.
But not even a minute on the main road, Taehyung realized the make of the car didn’t matter.
There was no safe choice when you had a very drunk and very horny Park Jimin right next to you—
Taehyung wheezed, grabbing a handful of Jimin’s hair when his head-bobbing got a little too eager, letting the guy’s beanie slip and fall discarded at his feet.
“Not too fast…” he gasped, his voice caught between a whisper and a half-hearted plea.
Of course, he didn’t want Jimin to slow down.
But he also didn’t want Jimin to suck him dry too soon.
The night was young. And the traffic signal could change any second now—
“Oh, but don’t you wanna beat the red light, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung almost completely lost it when he glanced down and caught Jimin’s eyes—
Saw his flushed cheeks—
His lips, slick and swollen—
Dark gaze framed with wild, unruly hair—
—and he didn’t really know what he wanted anymore…
A sound that was between a sigh and a groan escaped Taehyung’s lips as he put his hand back on the wheel and let Jimin’s head dip back into his business.
He felt the light, teasing kiss on his swollen tip, the swirl of tongue around his sensitive head, the kitten-lick on his leaking slit.
Taehyung sucked in his breath as he watched Jimin spit on him, as carefully as though he was putting frosting on a cake, slicking and pumping him up even more before hungrily slipping him back into his mouth.
And his world was all about those lips again. Moving along his throbbing length, his crown hitting places that triggered the lustiest noises out of Jimin, his own moans hitting pitches bordering on a scream.
He started bucking harder into the scorching tightness, chasing the final stretch of his pre-orgasmic pleasure until, arching and gasping, he finally exploded into Jimin’s throat.
His grip almost yanked the steering wheel completely off its hinges, as each powerful spurt racked through his body, numbing and blinding his mind to everything else.
And when he came crashing down, he ended up slumping like a ragdoll over the steering wheel. Out of breath and out of mind.
The car horn blared through the night for an entire second before Jimin managed to peel Taehyung’s trembling weight off, easing him back against his seat with a laughter that grated at Taehyung’s brain.
It sounded louder than it actually did to his still pumped up senses, echoing in the car like booming thunder on a quiet day.
The bastard was even clapping in shameless delight, his body bouncing and jostling around like his very blood was made of giggles.
His eyes were cute little crescents highlighting his flushed face.
There was also a dribble of cum on his chin that he hadn’t yet noticed—
Had Taehyung ever met anyone who could look so adorable and yet also be so filthy at the same time?
No. Of course, he hadn’t.
Park Jimin was a dream. A beautiful anomaly.
And he was all Taehyung’s to take.
The dirty bitch didn’t even bother tucking him back in, wouldn’t do it even when asked.
And yet, Taehyung knew he had found the one—
"I may want to blow you again at the next stop," Jimin shrugged, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he thumbed the stray dribble off his chin and licked it slowly. "How many do we have left?"
The traffic light flickered to green.
But by this time, Taehyung was too caught up in kissing, devouring, and basically putting Jimin’s sassy mouth in its place to give a damn about anything else.
⮞⮞⮞
Park Jimin loved his hands. He loved everything his hands could do.
He also loved sex. And he loved everything his hands could do during sex.
But tonight he realized he might actually just love sex, full stop.
Especially sex with Kim Taehyung.
The guy had been doing nothing but kiss him since he sat on his lap, and yet Jimin felt like he could unravel by this alone. At any second.
And Taehyung was so gentle about it, too. So deliberate that Jimin could feel each soft press of lips.
Each minute sweep of tongue.
Taste every minty drop of saliva Taehyung was filling him with as the guy languidly sucked his face, savoring him like a literal three-course meal.
"Tae…"
Taehyung hummed into his mouth and it almost drove Jimin mad. He felt the guy cup his face, palms hot and tender, as he continued kissing him slowly.
His natural musky scent, along with the lavender undertones, filled every breath Jimin dared to take.
It grounded him in the moment, making it matter less and less that he still couldn't see.
In fact, not seeing was turning every sensation into a heightened experience.
It all felt so intense, it couldn't be real.
But Jimin also knew he had never had it any realer than this.
Which was also why it needed to stop.
Then again, what fool would ever want something this good to stop—?
“Is your next movie an R-18 bondage flick?” Jimin managed to tease in between Taehyung nibbling and sucking his lips. “Your fans are gonna be so shocked…”
Taehyung did have the habit of bringing his latest movie characters into their space.
Method acting his way through dinner.
Running lines with Jimin on the couch.
Even going so far as to wonder how his character would be like in bed, given his personality and circumstances.
And Jimin would indulge him, because he might not have paid much attention to him before—he didn’t really pay much attention to movie stars in general—he did quickly become a fan of Taehyung’s dedication to his craft.
Kim Taehyung was a talented actor. A very passionate one.
And dating him did feel like Jimin was dating a different guy each time. There was a forbidden allure to it that thrilled him, even though the characters always ended up in the same blissed out stupor after he was done with them.
Sex, after all, was really just sex in the end—
“This one’s an exclusive sequel…” Taehyung’s breath fluttered against Jimin’s lips.
“Oh, yeah?”
“A one-night only special screening just for you…”
Jimin gulped and almost choked on his breath.
He felt Taehyung shift as the guy angled for a deeper probe, tongue brushing and caressing against Jimin's in an unhurried dance that left Jimin breathless, dazed, and lost in a haze of pleasure.
He might not admit it out loud, but he missed this.
He missed them—
Jimin whined when Taehyung pulled away. His lips were so thoroughly ravished that he could feel strings of their mingled saliva sticking to them, not wanting to let go.
"Did you want to say something, baby…?"
"Can we speed it up a little, please…” Jimin's voice was husky, desperate.
"Do you want me to stop instead…?" Taehyung’s quip sounded like a pouty challenge.
Jimin's mind hitched on that thought. Of course, he didn't want Taehyung to stop!
But if he kept it at this pace, Jimin was going to lose his mind.
"At least… Just… Untie me…"
Taehyung tutted. "I don't know, Jiminah…" He straddled closer, pressing the bulk of his arousal flush against Jimin's own rock-hard length. A grinding roll made Jimin toss his head back with a frustrated groan.
His body strained against his bindings. His hands tugged and fisted in his desperation to touch Taehyung—
Pull Taehyung closer—
Ravage the bastard's lips with all the untethered heat he had teased and stoked inside Jimin's core—
It was about time he took full control of this whole damn situation!
The fact that he couldn't do it was maddening, but also so intoxicatingly thrilling all at once.
"If I untie you, you're gonna leave me wrecked and senseless in a minute like you always do. We're not running on a deadline, baby. We never have…"
Jimin’s body tensed at Taehyung’s touch, muscles twitching as Taehyung’s hands roamed from his waist up to his chest. Fingers grazed his taut nipples, teasing and lingering there, causing Jimin to squirm, moan, and arch helplessly into Taehyung’s deft hands.
“Just relax…” The bastard’s voice was a deep, seductive purr as he circled his thumbs over Jimin's hardened nubs, leaning in to pepper Jimin’s jaw with sweet, light kisses. “Let me take care of you tonight. I am still your boyfriend, Park Jimin—"
"W-We broke up…” Jimin's voice was shaky, a mix of arousal and confusion.
He didn’t want this moment to end, but he also wasn’t the type to keep living a lie.
Taehyung stopped teasing Jimin’s nipples, hands sliding back down to Jimin’s waist. “So you told everyone—”
“I told you—”
“And you can’t even give me a reason that made sense!”
Taehyung’s words hit like a jolt, making Jimin gulp, his body stiffening.
The guy had never raised his voice at him, unless it was for a scene he wanted to rehearse.
Jimin tugged at his bindings again, wanting to pull away, knowing he couldn’t.
A flush of heat spread through his body, blending fear and frustration with his still growing desire.
Taehyung’s breaths sounded heavy. He felt heavier on Jimin’s lap, too.
Jimin held his own breath in the tensed silence, tilting his head for any shift in sound and movement.
Then Taehyung sighed and pressed a palm over Jimin’s heartbeat, his voice calmer now, almost pleading—
“If I were just Kim Taehyung and not a celebrity. No crazy people to stalk and troll and threaten our love, would you still want to break up with me…?”
The question cut through the air, sinking into Jimin's defenses like a knife. His breath caught in his throat, a mix of hurt, guilt, and frustration tightening his chest as a torrent of memories came flooding back—
How he'd been called names and made to feel like crap by people who didn't even know him.
Getting hounded by crazy fans and paparazzi everytime he stepped out of the house, even when he wasn't with Taehyung.
The media constantly picking apart their relationship like sharks in a feeding frenzy, just because they were both guys.
And Taehyung was the biggest celebrity in the country at the moment.
And Park Jimin was probably an opportunistic gold-digger wanting to use him for money and clout.
He knew dating a celebrity would be messy, and he should’ve really bailed before things got serious—
"Jiminah…"
Jimin swallowed hard, his wrists twitching against the bindings, wishing he could hold Taehyung’s face, look him in the eyes, and say that breaking up was the right move for both of them.
But he couldn’t. Not because of the blindfold or the restraints—
He was already shaking his head before he could stop himself, a muffled sob stuck in his chest.
Because despite all the drama and chaos Taehyung's fame brought into his life over the past months, Jimin couldn’t deny that Kim Taehyung was still the best thing that ever happened to him.
Who would've thought that after having his heart shattered by some jerk, the biggest star of the movie he cried his eyes out to while trying to hold it together would swoop down and help mend his broken heart?
Taehyung didn’t have to.
But Taehyung still did.
And this same Taehyung was kissing him again. Slow, yet so much deeper, hungrier than before. Clutching Jimin’s face in his hands and sealing his lips over Jimin’s mouth like he wanted to devour every inch of Jimin’s soul.
But was also still doing it all like a gentle demon who wanted to take his time.
And Jimin had a newfound appreciation for the way Taehyung was doing things tonight.
This wasn’t a character from a movie he was currently working on.
This was really just Kim Taehyung—
“Tae…?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry…”
“I’m not…” Taehyung shushed as his lips latched onto Jimin’s neck, nibbling and suckling out all coherent thoughts from his mind. “And you shouldn’t be.”
Jimin's hips bucked involuntarily as Taehyung's fingers flitted above the waistband of his briefs.
It made Jimin’s head spin.
“Tae…” He could hardly recognize his own needy voice, so small like he was suddenly ashamed of his own filthy thoughts. “I'm so close...”
He felt Taehyung's lips curl into a smile against his neck. "I know…"
Jimin whimpered when Taehyung's hand finally slipped into his briefs to caress and palm him. He bit his lip, his body shivering, his hard cock fully caught under Taehyung’s spell.
"But we're gonna do this at my pace." Taehyung sounded firm, yet still with the gentleness he had always had for Jimin. His voice dipped into a tender whisper as he began to rub Jimin with the same deliberate care as his kisses. “I want you to feel this, baby. Feel every fucking second of us…”
Jimin groaned into the mind-numbing rush of sensations as his world ironically slowed down and shrank into this one moment—
“Forget about everything else. Focus on this. How good we feel together.”
Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around Jimin’s length, stroking him with a rhythm that was both excruciatingly slow and intensely exhilarating.
Jimin’s breaths came in ragged gasps as his body melted at the palm of Taehyung’s hand—
“I can do this with you all night until you understand that this is what matters.” Taehyung’s grip tightened slightly, his strokes smooth and slick with precum.
Jimin didn’t even feel Taehyung untie the blindfold and was surprised when it suddenly slipped off his face.
“Just you and me…”
Jimin blinked, his eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness. Taehyung had turned on no other light but the one at the doorway.
“Hey…”
Its faint glow cast a soft halo around Taehyung’s form, his intense gaze locked on Jimin as he brushed a light, gentle hand along Jimin’s cheek, eyes softening into a loving smile.
Kim Taehyung looked more stunning in person than he ever did in photos or on the big screen.
His natural boyish charm tempered the sharp edges of his bare face, complemented by a warm, captivating smile so distinct that it even had its own name and hashtag—#BoxySmile.
The wavy mess of dark brown hair falling over his eyes gave him a harmless boy-next-door look whenever he went out on the streets unstyled.
A stark contrast to the usually suave and charismatic aura he gives off in his rom-com movies.
Even if he weren’t a famous celebrity, the sight of Taehyung would still undoubtedly turn heads.
Seeing the guy again after his latest attempt to cut ties sent a jolt of raw emotion through Jimin. Exposing him and his vulnerabilities, yet also pulling him away from the rest of the world. “Hey…”
It was like they were the only two people left as the weight of Taehyung’s words sank into his soul.
Just you and me…
The tears that the blindfold had held back now poured freely as Jimin buried his dainty face into the warmth of Taehyung’s broad, comforting palm.
Sighing, surrendering.
Just you and me…
Just Jimin and Taehyung…
Right here in this moment…
Taehyung kissed him again, gently thumbing the tip of his throbbing cock.
And Jimin knew this was really all that mattered—
“I’m done beating red lights with you, Mr. Park…”
⮜⮜⮜
Both Taehyung and Jimin were already half-naked when they stumbled into Taehyung’s apartment.
Why Taehyung would bring a stranger home on a first date didn’t even cross his mind.
After everything they did and almost did in Jin’s car, Jimin didn’t feel like much of a stranger anymore.
Besides, Jimin wouldn’t tell him where he lived. And Taehyung sure as hell wasn’t going to leave him on any random side of the road, either.
This was the safest thing to do.
As they entered the dimly lit hallway, the door clicking shut behind them, lips locked in a wild, wet kiss, Jimin suddenly pulled away, his loud smack echoing in the expansive space.
“This is crazy…” Jimin practically gasped, narrowed eyes fixed on Taehyung’s face, a smirk forming on his lips.
Taehyung held him and pinned him to the wall, just as Jimin grabbed his cheeks with both hands. Turning him from side to side, as if trying to confirm something.
"I can't believe I just sucked a movie star's dick!"
Chuckling, Taehyung leaned in, capturing Jimin's lips in another hungry kiss. "I can't believe how good you were at it."
“And you still want more?” Jimin’s own amusement was breathless against Taehyung’s lips. “From me, an idiot who had just been dumped by another guy?”
“There is only one idiot in this story, Jiminah…” Taehyung slid his hands down the sides of Jimin’s body, tracing the delicate curve of his small waist. His throat went dry as he felt the thick, sharp slope of Jimin's firm buttocks underneath, his words coming out more breath than conviction. “And it’s neither one of us.”
Jimin giggled into his neck, licking and nibbling with the playful smugness Taehyung had quickly grown fond of. “His loss, your gain then, huh?”
Taehyung burrowed his nose into Jimin’s hair. He smelled strongly of rum and citrus and Taehyung’s own scent, which made Taehyung giddy with the memory of how close they got to being caught making out in the middle of the road just several minutes back.
How they made out and almost fucked at the back of Jin’s car in the parking area, had Jin not called to warn Taehyung not to mess with his ride like he knew what Taehyung was going to do, before Taehyung could even be sure he was going to do it.
That was probably where he left his cap.
He didn’t have it anymore when they got to the elevator, standing on opposite sides to avoid touching each other and being caught on the security camera.
But they were at it again as soon as they got out. Peeling jackets and shirts off each other and discarding them like breadcrumbs in their wake.
Taehyung owned this entire floor.
Only he, his manager Kim Namjoon, and the head of his security team had exclusive access to the cameras around here.
They could literally fuck in the hallway and give the fussy Namjoon-nim something to scream about at breakfast—
The idea did appeal to Taehyung.
But he also wasn’t too keen on sharing Park Jimin with anyone else, in any way.
Why he couldn’t keep his hands off this guy for more than a minute without feeling like he would lose his mind was beyond him.
Anyone who can let go of all this must have lost more than a few important screws in his head.
And this was exactly what Taehyung said out loud, with the added edge of a serious warning, “I’ll make sure he regrets it.”
Jimin snickered, looping his arms around Taehyung’s neck. “You say the silliest lines, Mr. Kim.” He peppered Taehyung’s lips with quick, playful kisses. “What movie was that one from?”
Taehyung narrowed his eyes, desire and mischief glinting in them as he grabbed the back of Jimin’s head, pulling him closer for deeper kisses. Their bodies were pressed so tight, there was barely room to breathe. “The one we're about to make.”
“God, I hope your fans are ready for porn!”
Taehyung lifted Jimin off his feet, the sounds of their moans and kisses mingling as he carried him to his room, playfully tossing his lithe body onto the bed and stripping him of the rest of his clothes right away.
He was naked just as quickly. As he had already figured, Jimin wasn’t the type to just take things lying down.
Taehyung wasted no time to pin the guy back down on the bed, asserting his authority with a growl and a deep, bruising kiss.
Now that they were in the privacy of his home, he felt like he could finally be in charge of the moment.
Flirting with danger had been a different kind of thrill, but nothing beat doing it behind the safety of closed doors.
Here, they could take their time without constantly fearing being caught—
“I’m not used to being down here…” Jimin turned his face away, causing Taehyung’s lips to slide down to his jaw.
“Well…” Taehyung’s kisses trailed down Jimin’s jawline, to the side of his neck, sucking on a spot above his collarbone that made Jimin whine in the sweetest way. “This is all the here I want.”
Taehyung’s fingers glided down Jimin’s body, teasing every inch of skin, reveling in every twitch, shiver, and groan they elicited.
He paused to circle Jimin’s nipples with his thumbs.
Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut with a sharp gasp, his back arching into Taehyung’s touch as Taehyung continued his descent, his lips marking the path his hands had lit up.
But when Taehyung reached Jimin’s waist, and dared to press a kiss on the tip of Jimin’s fully erect and already leaking cock, he felt a sudden shift in Jimin's vibe.
It was like the guy completely sobered up, shedding off his playful layer, his eyes sparking with such intensity that froze Taehyung’s mind.
Before Taehyung could react, Jimin had already started moving with a surprising speed and strength, swiftly flipping their positions in a blur of motions.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Taehyung found himself flat on his back, Jimin now straddling him with a smirk.
Their bodies pressed close, cocks throbbing with desire, and suddenly Taehyung wasn't so sure about where this was headed—
“Jiminah…” Taehyung gripped the guy’s thighs, his face flushed and his words barely stringing together. “I haven’t… really… done… it like… this before… I… I’m not… I don’t think—”
“Really?” Jimin frowned, his pout making him look more disarmingly adorable than threatening. “You poor baby…”
Jimin’s hands roamed over Taehyung’s body, each touch sparking fire, yet gliding smoothly like silk, melting Taehyung’s mind into a puddle of groaning, squirming mess—
“Such a huge superstar and no one has ever ridden your cock like a cowboy at a rodeo?”
Jimin slid up, positioning himself so that Taehyung's cock was nestled between his ass cheeks, grinding over it a little to make his intentions clear.
So that even in his dazed, whimpering state, Taehyung couldn’t miss it—
“Let me take care of that…”
⮞⮞⮞
Jimin had seen Taehyung be movie-intimate with other people.
Nothing too explicit, of course. Just the tender, vanilla moments that fade to black and were meant to be more endearing than provocative.
Taehyung used to ask Jimin if it made him jealous or uncomfortable in any way. And if maybe he should start saying no to doing such scenes.
“I don’t get aroused by them, just so you know…” he further assured, looking so genuinely concerned about Jimin’s feelings and opinions, that it almost made Jimin laugh.
He remembered telling Taehyung he was making too much of a fuss about it.
It was just a movie. A scene. A roleplay.
And that he really wasn’t bothered.
At least, not to a degree.
Up until tonight, Jimin didn’t think whatever this was between them was going to last.
Or that they would even get to a point where he would want it to last—
Jimin’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he watched Taehyung’s head bob on his lap, feeling the guy’s tight, wet lips move up and down his length, moaning and whimpering through his own shallow breaths.
Taehyung had previously suckled a spot on his skin that he was quite sure would bruise as big as Jeju Island. He could still feel it throbbing on his inner thigh.
They once joked about how it was Taehyung’s celebrity autograph reserved for Jimin’s skin alone.
And Taehyung had kept marking him since, even jokingly adding, “So you don’t forget me when you don’t see me…”
Of course, they saw each other every day anyway.
Taehyung would sometimes show up at Jimin’s workplace to either treat everyone to lunch or simply pick him up.
He had always been proud to show Jimin off to the world.
Jimin had never had that kind of courage—
Taehyung’s mouth kept working over Jimin’s cock, his tongue stroking and swirling in ways that threatened to shatter Jimin’s mind.
The tightness of his restraints added a layer of frustration to the pressure in his balls, keeping him teetering on the edge, making him feel more alive and aware than ever.
He tugged at his bindings again, his hips instinctively bucking into the warmth of Taehyung’s mouth.
Taehyung held his thighs down with firm hands. Tutting and shushing him, tongue relentlessly licking and flicking him closer to the edge.
Jimin threw his head back, his throat shivering with a guttural cry when Taehyung sucked on his swollen tip so hard, it almost drew out his soul.
Then, with a loud pop, Taehyung’s mouth suddenly left him, a cool rush of air replacing the scorching heat of his mouth.
Jimin had never felt so thoroughly sucked like this before. His balls were literally sweating out the last ounce of his self-control as his eyes fluttered open, focusing on Taehyung kneeling at his feet.
The guy was untying the binds around Jimin’s ankles before slipping the bunched up mess of his pants and underwear off completely.
As Taehyung stepped back just far enough for Jimin to see him fully, he began stripping off his own pants and underwear, until he was standing so gloriously, so divinely naked in the dim light.
Jimin’s gaze roamed over Taehyung’s body, taking in every detail—
The broad shoulders, a result of the training and bulking up Taehyung had been doing for his next role (or so Jimin had read somewhere)...
The proud jut of his aroused cock, long and thick, with prominent veins that throbbed with each heartbeat…
Jimin's own heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and desire as he marveled at how lucky he was to be seeing all this.
To have exclusive access to the sight of Kim Taehyung in his most vulnerable state—
With deliberate slowness, Taehyung reached for the bottle of lube on the counter, his eyes never once leaving Jimin's.
Then he sat on his discarded pants on the floor, legs spread apart, and started slicking and opening himself up right in front of Jimin’s eyes.
“What… the… fuck…!”
⮜⮜⮜
Taehyung’s mouth went dry as he watched Jimin preparing himself.
The sight of it was unbearably erotic. His cock twitched in response to every deliberate stroke, each finger slipped into the tight, puckered up hole.
Jimin’s slender fingers worked with practiced, graceful ease, slicking the lube over himself, probing into his core with perfectly angled thrusts, punctuated by all the most thrilling fevered noises.
Taehyung had never realized watching this could be so mesmerizing—
The way Jimin’s sleek, toned legs were bent and spread apart to give Taehyung full view of those intimate parts of him that Taehyung swore—right then and there—would only be meant for his eyes from now on…
Jimin’s pale, petite torso arched forward, his delicate head thrown back in the throes of passion as his fingers moved in and out of himself, undoubtedly hitting his sweet spot each time…
That pretty little cock that was a shameless grower, swelling and hardening even more right before Taehyung’s eyes…
Jimin may have looked too gorgeous for his own good dressed in all those drabby clothes.
But naked like this, he was simply divine.
Ethereal.
A literal god.
Taehyung ached to touch him.
Taste him.
Own him.
But before he could get his head straight and nerve up to act on it, Jimin was done and was already crawling back towards him, grabbing his already leaking cock and lubing him up in the same quick, precise manner with which he had prepared himself.
Sending Taehyung back reeling into near madness.
Losing his mind to a thick, lusty haze—
⮞⮞⮞
—of wanting Taehyung in a way he never thought could ever be satisfied.
Why was this guy messing with his head right now? Throwing his entire being into disarray?
Taehyung knelt between Jimin's legs, lube in hand, gaze as warm and intense as the sun. “You okay?”
Jimin nodded, his voice—confused, conflicted—barely above a whisper. “What are you doing, Tae?”
Taehyung smiled, his eyes filled with both affection and smoldering desire, as he began coating Jimin’s cock with lube, his touch gentle yet firm. “I’m doing you, Mr. Park…”
“Shit…” Jimin shuddered at the sensation, a moan escaping his lips as Taehyung’s broad, calloused hand worked him over. “That was a serious question, you jerk!”
“What makes you think my answer wasn’t serious?” Taehyung’s fingers trailed lightly down the underside of Jimin’s shaft, teasing the sensitive skin before applying just enough pressure to its base to make Jimin gasp and arch his hips.
Then, Taehyung straddled him again, bracing himself on Jimin’s shoulder as he grabbed Jimin’s throbbing erection with one hand, guiding it to his hole, his gaze piercing and defiant the entire time.
"You don't own the market on riding cocks, Park Jimin—"
⮜⮜⮜
“—so just relax and let me take care of you…”
Taehyung took a deep breath, holding it in as he focused on Jimin moving on top of him, lowering himself onto Taehyung’s cock. They whimpered and groaned in sync as Jimin sank deeper, molding tightly around Taehyung like a puzzle piece finding its perfect match.
Jimin’s face contorted with a mix of pain and pleasure, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps as he took a moment to adjust to the fullness of Taehyung’s substantial girth, his not so modest length.
Taehyung’s heart ached with concern, his hands gently rubbing Jimin’s smooth thighs to help him relax, while he too fought the urge to just thrust right up into Jimin’s warmth.
Because he was also taking his time adapting to the tightness of Jimin’s grip around him, the weight of Jimin’s body on top of him.
The sight of Jimin’s naked majesty towering over him like the master and commander of his life.
Then Jimin began to move.
And it took everything Taehyung had not to come in that same second—
⮞⮞⮞
—because Taehyung did say this was a one-night only thing, and who knew when the guy would be crazy enough again to willingly fuck himself on Jimin’s cock?
Although he had his doubts about it, worrying Taehyung might not fully grasp what he was getting himself into, the guy was taking it surprisingly well.
Too damn well that Jimin was now worrying for his own sanity.
He might not be as hefty as Taehyung, but his cock was a decent size. Perhaps, a little thicker.
And Taehyung’s face looked pained at that initial stretch, Jimin was almost afraid he was going to pull out.
But Taehyung just kept sinking, drawing strength and reassurances from Jimin’s lips, as inch by inch he took Jimin in, his tight heat gripping Jimin’s cock like it had always been meant for this.
And Jimin was barely holding on. It had been a while since his cock had ass for dinner—
“God, Tae!” Jimin’s hands fisted, fingernails digging into his palms as he fought the urge to thrash around and break off his final bonds.
Because Taehyung was looking like an angel with the devil’s smirk, grinding and bouncing on Jimin’s lap and filling Jimin’s head with his delicious, fevered noises.
And Jimin wanted so damn hard to touch him.
Grab those hips and grind Taehyung down harder.
Thrust himself into Taehyung deeper.
Feel Taehyung’s sweet core tremble and shatter at each powerful stroke—
⮜⮜⮜
—that got Jimin cursing and bracing himself on Taehyung’s chest, his stubborn hips fighting against Taehyung’s grip, setting his own steady, yet faster pace.
Taehyung tried his best to match him, thrusting his own hips up to meet Jimin at each grind.
Until their movements finally synchronized in a beautiful, erotic symphony of breathless moans, desperate gasps, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin—
⮞⮞⮞
—echoing sharply in Jimin’s empty apartment, grounding him harder, deeper into the cushioned seat of his one sturdy chair.
And Jimin found himself wondering then, what use a chair was if he couldn’t test its strength and stability like this…
Under the weight of two grown men, chasing their bliss and newfound kinks without abandon…
Reclaiming and strengthening their special bond along the way—
⮜⮜⮜
—forging a new, yet also somehow familiar connection…
They were practically strangers, true.
But it also felt like they had known each other forever.
And Taehyung found himself wondering then, how on earth he survived all those years without Park Jimin by his side…
Moving on top of him like this, owning him like this as they chased their filth and newfound bliss without fear, without inhibitions…
As their pace quickened, Taehyung felt the familiar tightening in his core, signaling his approaching release—
⮞⮞⮞
—and Jimin felt the world as he knew it melt away, replaced by a refreshing wave of pleasure as Taehyung’s moans mingled with his own…
Anchoring Jimin’s senses, his entire future, into this brand new acceptance of a love he now knew he could never live without.
Just as he felt himself nearing his peak, Taehyung’s hands slid down his arms, deftly undoing the bonds around his wrists.
The ties slipped off, and Jimin's previously peeled-down dress shirt followed suit, leaving him completely naked at Taehyung’s mercy.
The surge of this sudden freedom prompted Jimin’s hands to grip Taehyung’s hips right away, their gazes meeting in a wordless space of absolute trust and consensual abandon—
⮜⮜⮜
—where Taehyung reached down and wrapped his hand around Jimin’s neglected erection, stroking him in time with their movements—
⮞⮞⮞
—where Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut as his world narrowed down to the exquisite feel of Taehyung riding him, the slick, tantalizing friction of his own desperate, yet mindfully aimed thrusts.
“Jiminah!”
Taehyung’s head fell back, his cry of pleasure pushing Jimin over the edge—
⮜⮜⮜
—and with a final, powerful thrust, Taehyung sent them both reeling into wave after wave of ecstasy.
Jimin cried out, his release splattering on Taehyung’s body in a hot, filthy mess.
His ass clenching around Taehyung so tight—
⮞⮞⮞
—that Jimin literally screamed as he finally let go, nails digging deep into Taehyung’s hips as he whimpered through each pulsating, mind-numbing shot of cum he sent up Taehyung’s previously untouched hole—
⮜⮜⮜
—losing his mind to the blissed out stupor that Jimin would always leave him in after each sexual encounter.
It felt good.
Taehyung felt wonderfully spent.
Breathless and barely conscious.
He thought he heard Jimin gasp.
Saw the guy’s eyes widening before he felt him scrambling away.
Taehyung thought he heard a door open, then close.
Thought about how he would join Jimin in the shower in a while.
He just needed some time to breathe—
But the shower didn’t turn on.
Eyes still half-closed, mind still half-lost, Taehyung sat up, his heartbeat leveling into a quiet hum as realization set in.
Park Jimin didn’t go to the bathroom to shower.
Park Jimin had gone and left.
Like a thief in the night.
With Kim Taehyung’s pathetically smitten heart in his pocket—
⮞⮞⮞
—and Jimin’s very soul now fully surrendered at Taehyung’s feet.
No longer fearful. No longer unsure.
And no longer running down expensive hallways half naked in the wee hours of the morning.
Or abruptly leaving establishments whenever he saw Namjoon-nim, searching for him again every time he tried to go no-contact with Taehyung.
Always stepping out of his hiding places anyway, because he did end up missing his boyfriend too much.
And Namjoon-nim was just too smart for his tricks.
But was this really so bad—?
Just you and me…
Jimin and Taehyung…
Clinging to each other like velcro as they rode out the final waves of their orgasms, Jimin’s hands roaming over Taehyung’s back, pulling him close as their breathing slowed down, their heartbeats finally regaining their mutual rhythm.
The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat.
But Jimin knew it was more than just sex this time…
Taehyung leaned down, capturing Jimin’s lips in a slow, tender kiss. “It feels so hot in here, huh?”
Jimin giggled, at the obvious jab at his favorite pick up line. “It’s not you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Jimin pecked at Taehyung’s lips, smirking. “It’s me.”
“What?”
“It’s both of us.”
“I thought so, too…”
They shared another soft kiss, hands comfortably rubbing and gliding over each patch of bare skin they could touch.
Just cuddling and basking in the afterplay as conversations came light and easy again—
“How’d you even find me?”
“One of your friends is crushing really hard on my manager.”
“Excuse me, what?”
“I thought I’d leverage it a bit.”
“Who?”
“The grumpy one.”
“Yoongi-hyung?!”
“He’s surprisingly very adorable behind closed doors. Quite flexible too, according to Namjoon-nim.—”
“Ugh! Tae! What the fuck!”
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be saying too much…”
They both looked down, as if on cue, and realized two things—
Jimin’s cock was still nestled comfortably inside Taehyung.
And Taehyung was getting shamelessly hard again.
“Yoongi-hyung? Really?”
Taehyung tutted, playfully slapping Jimin’s chest. “This is on you, Park Jimin. Stop blaming other people and take responsibility.”
Jimin looked up, arching an eyebrow with a sultry offer. “I have a bed…”
“Good god! You should’ve told me earlier!”
Without wasting another second, Taehyung pulled Jimin across the practically empty apartment, swiping the tube of lube along the way. With cum from their first round still fresh and dripping down their skin, they hurried towards the bedroom that only had the one bed in it.
And Taehyung was scowling again at Jimin’s depressing new lifestyle—
“Like I said, I am hardly ever here.”
“Good.”
Taehyung swept Jimin into his arms and practically tossed him onto the bed, pinning him right away, before Jimin could start getting the wrong idea about who was in charge tonight.
“After this, you and your sturdy chair are coming home with me, Mr. Park…”
“Okay.”
The word slipped out of his lips so easily, surprising them both.
And it felt so natural that Jimin repeated it, this time with certainty, bringing that beautiful boxy smile back to Taehyung’s lips before he began ravishing Jimin again with a hungry roughness that ironically contrasted with his earlier demeanor—
Because Taehyung had been asking Jimin forever to move in together.
But Jimin had never mustered up the courage to say yes until now.
Because now, Jimin had realized and embraced some very important truths about himself—
Park Jimin loved sex.
Park Jimin loved being in love.
But most of all, Park Jimin just loved Kim Taehyung, full stop.
🎟️