Chapter Text
He jolted awake, the pounding at his door mirroring the thumping of his heart. He jumped up, throwing on the closest pair of sweat pants, and glanced at his phone to see a long line of texts and missed calls.
All from him.
Throwing open the door, breathless, he let out a confused, “Jungkook?”
Drunk. That was the first thing he noticed. Crying might have been the second if not for the look Jungkook was pinning him with.
“Jiminie…” He tried to stand a little straighter, appear a little more coherent. “Did you miss me?”
“I’m not Jiminie to you, Kookie.”
Jungkook stepped forward into the threshold without invitation and pushed past Jimin’s weak hold on the doorframe. “Mm, sorry, hyung.”
Jimin let him wander around the apartment, run his fingers over the counters and picture frames and edges of furniture, until his fingers seemed to lead him down the hall to where Jimin’s bedroom was.
“I love my hyungs, you know.”
“I know, Kookie.” He paused, shoulders tight with nerves as Jungkook slipped out of his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed. He almost didn’t want to ask, and it came out so soft he wondered if he actually did. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you could keep me company…”
“Weren’t you supposed to have dinner with Jin tonight?”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, and he stood up too quickly, wavering just a little on his feet. But then there he was in Jimin’s personal space, backing him into the door, breath too hot, too bitter, and Jimin turned his head to the side. “Do you think I’m sweet, Jimin? Do you picture me as just a little brother?”
Jimin closed his eyes, biting the inside of his lips so hard it started tasting like copper. “...You know I don’t.”
“What would you let me do, Jiminie?”
“Not Jiminie - “
Jungkook grabbed his arms and turned them, shoving Jimin onto the bed. “Hyung,” he said bitterly again, “what would you let me do?”
Jimin couldn’t move. “You’re drunk.”
“Not as drunk as I was. It was a long walk, and I thought about you the whole time.”
A lie, Jimin knew. It wasn’t him Jungkook had been thinking about. But then Jungkook was pulling his t-shirt off and climbing over Jimin, and where there had been aggression and pride now only held a broken question.
Jimin had always been weak for Jungkook. Never moreso than that moment when Jungkook leaned down to kiss him. All of it - he’d let him do anything.
Jungkook started by sliding a hand down his chest, down his abs, sliding under the sweat pants, palming Jimin’s growing erection until Jimin was gasping into Jungkook’s shoulder and asking for more. It didn’t go how he thought it’d go - Jungkook took his time with strong and deliberate actions, working Jimin open with caution and attention, and it would be sweet if Jimin didn’t already feel like he didn’t deserve any of it.
He fucked the same way, grabbing Jimin’s hips and keeping his thrusts deep and forceful. Jimin was going to be sore everywhere tomorrow, he could already tell, but he wasn’t too sure he’d hate the reminder. This wasn’t something he was supposed to get, Jungkook had never been his no matter how hard he wanted it, but here it was 3am on a Thursday night and Jungkook was flipping him over and pinning his hands above his head, pushing his legs further apart to get just the right angle, and kissing his shoulder blades like he really cared.
“Can you come for me, Jiminie? Would you come for me, hyung?”
Jimin nodded quickly and pushed his hips back to meet Jungkook’s thrusts. He’d been fucking at a slow, powerful pace, but Jungkook took this as an invitation and pulled Jimin’s hips back hard and began pounding into him.
He came with a breathless sob before he felt Jungkook filling him up, dragging his nails down from his hands, across the length of his arms and eventually digging into his shoulders. He winced at the pain, but immediately felt Jungkook’s lips on the marks he made, and Jimin didn’t want to complain about the pain if this was the reward he got.
It became something of a pattern.
Jimin woke up the next time, not even a week later, when his phone rang for the third time. “Mm, hello?”
“Open your door.”
That woke him up. Sitting straight up he looked at his phone, making sure it was real. “Why?”
“You know why.”
And he shouldn’t do it, he shouldn’t put on that same pair of ratty sweat pants, shouldn’t open his bedroom door, walk down the hall and open the front door, but he does. He does, and Jungkook stumbles in, worse than last time. Jimin helps him towards the couch, but Jungkook pulls away and makes for the bedroom still. He trips his way into bed, landing on his back, and throwing a hand over his eyes.
“Missed you,” he laughs, and it sounds so fucking bitter, and Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever felt as hurt as in that moment.
“I don’t think you should come back here, Jungkook. I’m not… I’m not gonna do that again.”
“Okay, that sounds about right.” He doesn’t move, though.
Jimin is about to turn around and sleep on the couch, but suddenly Jungkook’s shoulders are shaking and both hands are covering his face, and Jimin shouldn’t move as fast as he does, but he goes to Jungkook’s side, wiping away the tears that manage to roll down the sides of his cheeks.
Jimin leans down, placing a soft kiss on Jungkook’s lips that makes him still for a moment before moving his hands and looking Jimin in the eyes.
“We don’t have to fuck, can you just lay with me?”
The knot in Jimin’s stomach says no, don’t be so close, don’t get so intimate, but his body is already climbing over Jungkook to lay between the wall and the boy crying into his shoulder.
“I hate this.”
Jimin tenses, a feeling of self-disgust washing over him, but Jungkook continues.
“I feel so fucking weak. You don’t deserve this.”
He doesn’t tell him that he’s right, he doesn’t deserve this. Jimin’s only crime in all this was looking at Jungkook in a way that lingered too long and meant too much, enough that Jungkook realized it and used it to make himself feel better when his own love was rejected. In his more bitter moments, he thought Jungkook was just selfish in a way that made him seem complicated. The truth was nothing was ever so easy.
The breath tickling his neck slows and steadies, and Jimin thinks he’s asleep until he’s slowly being pulled closer, lips grazing against his neck and sucking in his pulse. “Kookie, stop.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Jimin can’t find the answer in himself before Jungkook’s hands are in his hair and pulling his head back to expose his neck, opening it to a series of bites and hickeys that Jimin is sure will embarrass him for the next few days. Jungkook’s thigh grinds up between his legs, and Jimin is already shuddering.
“Do you like me, hyung?”
His jaw tightens, and he doesn’t want to answer, he knows Jungkook’s fishing for validation, but he can’t help but give it when he looks down to meet Jungkook’s eye. He nods, doesn’t trust his mouth to not reveal exactly how much, but it’s probably already too late. He’s taking the knife by the blade and letting Jungkook take what he wants, and who else would do that but someone who was too deep in love to say no?
“What about you, Kookie? Do you like me?”
“You’re beautiful,” is the only answer he gets before Jungkook pushes his back onto the mattress and kisses his way down, down until he’s mouthing at the outline of Jimin’s cock through his sweat pants, coaxing him to hardness before he slips the pants off and takes Jimin into his mouth.
He does that like he did everything else - slow, deliberate, with purpose.
Something in Jimin’s heart hurts, but Jungkook’s hair is so soft in his hands as his tongue works its way around his shaft, and maybe Jimin can forget about his heart for a fucking second when Jungkook slicks up a finger and pushes it in while he’s going down on him. Soon enough, Jungkook’s fingering him rapidly with four fingers as he sucks Jimin off, swallowing every drop of come when Jimin cries out. He’s still coming down when Jungkook slides inside of him and he flinches at how sensitive every part of him is, but Jungkook makes quick work of it, fucking him fast and hard, and there’s tears streaming down the sides of Jimin’s face, his nails dug in deep to Jungkook’s biceps, when Jungkook comes deep inside of him.
He doesn’t pull out, not yet, just looms over Jimin on one arm, using his other hand to wipe the excess tears away. He replaces his hand with his lips, kissing the corner of each eyelid, and Jimin’s chest is tight when Jungkook whispers an apology.
He pulls out and stands up, putting his own underwear back on, and Jimin wonders if he’d get dressed and leave leave just like that. Instead, he stops at just the underwear and brings back a washcloth from the bathroom. He cleans Jimin up, tossing the rag somewhere on the floor, before offering Jimin his sweat pants back.
Jungkook isn’t there when he wakes up.
Jimin’s head hurts from it all.
They still see each other, their tight friend group almost constantly together, and it takes everything in Jimin not to think about Jungkook’s hands on his hips, or in his hair, or inside of him. He watches Jungkook interact with Jin with a closer eye now, Jin just as goofy and sweet as usual, but Jungkook still tenses at his touch, forces his smile just a little too much.
Jimin can just picture it. The effort it would’ve taken Jungkook to force his emotions out and into words. The sweet and understanding rejection that Jin would’ve gently given.
He pitied Jungkook, and knowing Jungkook, that was probably the exact thing he didn’t want.
Jungkook was stubborn and proud, and he didn’t want Jin’s understanding or Jimin’s pity, he wanted to be angry, and he couldn’t when people kept treating him like he was fragile.
The next time it happens, Jimin gets a text instead of a call. A simple, “Can I come over?”
He stares at his phone for an hour before he hears a soft knock on his front door. It’s midnight, and he knows. He opens it, surprised to see Jungkook appearing sober and sheepish, hands shoved into his jacket’s front pockets.
Somewhere between the door and the bed, Jimin protests that this isn’t healthy. Somewhere between kissing him and fucking him, Jungkook tells him how good he makes him feel, how beautiful he is, and it works its way into his head.
He takes his time that night, and Jimin feels different, wonders what’s happening when his legs are wrapped around Jungkook’s waist while Jungkook lets out a broken whine in his ear that sounds something like his name. When he asks Jimin to ride him, Jimin is eager to oblige. He thinks he might die under Jungkook’s gaze, warmer than usual as it looks up at him from under his fringe of hair. Jimin pushes it back and leans forward to kiss him, slow and deep, while he grinds his hips forward.
He’s still gone in the morning.
It’s harder for Jimin after that to see Jungkook everywhere. He doesn’t watch anymore, doesn’t want to see the way he interacts with Jin, wants to pretend that he’s not so weak and desperate for Jeon Jungkook. Doesn’t want to wonder if Jungkook is still thinking about someone else when he walks through that doorway.
He manages to say no the next time. He gets the text, he hears the knock, he ignores the call, he blocks out Jungkook’s voice from the front door, and he softly closes his bedroom door and climbs under the covers.
He reads each text, increasing in frantic apologies.
Jimin?
Are you ok? If you need to be alone just let me know
I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did, please let me in.
Hyung, please, I need you.
I’m sorry, whatever it was
Fuck
It’s a long night without relief.
There’s no call the next night, or for the week after that. Jungkook doesn’t meet his eye anymore, and it’s not what Jimin wanted but he’ll have to settle for it if that’s what it means to take care of himself.
But then it’s a Tuesday evening, early enough still for the sun to just be peeking out from the edge of the horizon, when there’s a knock at his door, and he never suspects. It was too early, the knock wasn’t desperate, there was no message, but there he was again.
Eyes red and shoulders slumped, he waited. He didn’t push his way in like usual, just waited until Jimin stepped to the side and let him in. He waited in the living room, but his eyes were on the bedroom, and Jimin nodded.
Jungkook sat on the bed, pulling Jimin between his legs and burying his face in his shirt. “I’m sorry?”
Jimin sighed and nodded.
“First… And then you… I don’t know what I keep doing.”
A wave of anger overtook Jimin as he shoved Jungkook’s face away. “First what? First who? And then me, right? That’s what you did, that’s what I keep fucking doing to myself. First him, and then me. I’m so fucking stupid, and so are you. You can feel good about yourself without making me feel bad about myself, did you realize that? You won’t even leave me alone long enough to say no to you, you’re just - I can’t keep doing this. It hurts, this hurts, I hurt so much - “
He didn’t realize he was crying until Jungkook pulled him into a hug so tight he couldn’t breathe. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Jimin tried to punch him on the sides, somewhere between wanting to pull away or bury himself in soft warmth of Jungkook’s hoodie.
“It’s - it’s less now. What I feel for him… it’s less now.”
It was embarrassing how quickly his heart perked back up as Jungkook continued.
“When I’m here, it’s just you, okay? It maybe wasn’t the first time, but… when I’m here, it’s just us? I don’t know.”
He wants it all, he wants to be the only one in there, makes him feel so pathetic to think he’s so happy about just having a piece of Jungkook’s heart, but to hear that he’s making progress toward that sends him almost soaring.
Jimin tilts up, kissing him, and it feels so much better than not kissing him, and he wonders if he can coax Jungkook’s love up from his heart with his mouth. He shoves Jungkook back onto the bed, straddling his lap, and kisses the breath out of him, until they’re both pulling away with a gasp. Jungkook slides his hands under Jimin’s shirt and pulls it almost all the way off, twisting it around his wrists and using it to lay Jimin back onto the bed and pin his hands above his head.
“You’re so beautiful, hyung. I mean it.”
Jimin blushed but Jungkook didn’t see it, his head already sucking hickeys into Jimin’s neck, his collarbone, his chest.
“Do you like me, hyung?”
It was so much easier this time to admit it. “Yeah, Kookie.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Not yet,” he managed to say while Jungkook nuzzled his nose into the dip of his pelvis.
Jungkook hummed, kissing a path softly, lightly, until he was kissing his way up the shaft of Jimin’s cock and sucking the tip into his mouth. Jimin let out a cry, and he could practically feel Jungkook smile around him. His mouth was gone as soon as it came, but then it was back and Jimin heard a soft click immediately followed by a finger gently pressing against his entrance.
One hand was splayed firmly against his stomach as Jungkook’s mouth worked his erection and the other hand worked Jimin open. It wasn’t so slow this time, wasn’t so forceful. Jungkook seemed more eager to proved something to Jimin, wanting to be inside him as soon as possible. Jimin’s thighs were shaking as Jungkook curled three fingers inside him before pulling them out and rolling Jimin to his side.
He pushed Jimin’s hair back from his forehead, placing a kiss at his temple, before he lined his cock up and pushed himself inside.
On his side like this, it was so tight, and it burned for a second and all he could focus on was the way Jungkook’s arms and body caged him in and pinned him to the bed. Smothered, he thought. Smothered, he smiled. And then Jungkook was moving fast and hard, and his mind abandoned him as his hands scrambled for purchase, grabbing at Jungkook’s arm and the sheets for anchor.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned above him. Jimin struggled to look up, just to see his face, expecting to see his eyes closed in concentration, but instead they were on him. Jungkook gave him a strange, small smile that Jimin would catalog for later, but for now he let everything go and focused on the ragged way the Jungkook breathed, the drag as Jungkook slammed in and out of him, and the way Jungkook’s fingers were interlacing with his where their hands met.
“Can you come for me like this, Jimin? Can you come from my cock, hyung?”
Jimin nodded vigorously, and Jungkook sat up straighter, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him back at the same time he would thrust forward.
His sobs reverberated off the bedroom walls, and he came so hard he cried and it took him a bit to catch his breath as Jungkook’s hips stuttered against his, but he still managed to grind his hips back as Jungkook rode out his orgasm.
“Jesus,” he said, falling on his back to Jimin’s side. “Wow.”
“Ye-” was all Jimin’s dry throat would allow him to say.
Jungkook stood up, putting on his underwear, and this time Jimin didn’t wonder if he would leave. He came back with a washcloth and took his time cleaning them up, placing kisses on the softest spots of Jimin’s skin along the way.
He stayed for dinner, and Jimin got to experience all the parts he already knew of Jungkook in a new way before night set in and they found themselves in the bedroom again. At the very least, watching the sun come up through the window while Jungkook drifted in and out of sleep, he knew that he wouldn’t wake up alone this time.
It was progress.