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“He’s just so gorgeous,” Jimin breathes, a sense of awe in his voice. “Like, perfect. I’m telling you, they don’t make men like this anymore.”
Jungkook’s hum of acknowledgement is interrupted by a yawn. He lifts a hand to cover his mouth, jaw popping with the force of the stretch. Jimin doesn’t seem deterred, forging ahead as if Jungkook is paying rapt attention to every word.
“Really,” he continues, “I wasn’t even all that interested in going until I saw him.” A dreamy sigh accompanies the newest pronouncement and Jungkook barely stifles his eye roll. “I was going to switch to the evening club, but now I wouldn’t dream of changing.”
At this moment, Jungkook’s only wish is that Jimin had changed to the evening club. It’s far too early in the morning for this, for Jimin’s monologue and for Jungkook to even be awake. The sun is barely risen, cresting over the treetops along the path they’re walking, making Jungkook squint and wish for the darkness of his bedroom.
Maybe if he hadn’t stayed up until who knows when playing video games he’d feel differently, but he’s not sure. Another yawn has his jaw cracking and he hears Jimin snort beside him before he keeps on talking, saying something about impressive lung capacity. Even if Jungkook had gone to bed at a normal hour, he doesn’t think he would be thrilled about being up so early. Normally nothing can get him out of bed before the sun is well up and the world has started.
And yet, here he is, stomping along next to his best friend at ass o’clock in the morning to go running.
“I don’t understand why I’m here,” Jungkook huffs when Jimin finally pauses to take a breath.
“Exercise is important,” Jimin says casually. “I’m just helping you be healthy.”
Jungkook scowls, shoving his hands in the pockets of his track pants. “I’m plenty healthy,” he grumbles.
“Oh yeah?” Jimin snorts. “What time did you stay up until last night?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Jungkook snaps. “I go to the gym and work out all the time. I don’t need to go to a running club that starts at dawn. Why am I here?”
Honestly, Jungkook knows he doesn’t necessarily have to be here. But Jimin’s texts had been full of emojis and the subsequent video call was all puppy dog eyes and pouts. He still could have said no, but Jungkook has a hard time saying no to his very pushy hyung. Maybe he should work on that.
“I need moral support,” Jimin says finally, carefully not looking at Jungkook as they round a bend in the path. “A wingman, you know.”
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “You’ve never needed a wingman before. You picked up a guy in your yoga class last year.”
“I did no such thing,” Jimin replies. “Hoseok hyung and I struck up a friendship during sun salutations.”
“Uh huh,” Jungkook responds. “And Hobi hyung couldn’t come to the running club with you, why?”
“Stop whining,” Jimin snaps, clearly losing patience. “I needed a wingman, I chose you, you said you’d come. Can’t you just support your hyung for once?”
As if Jungkook isn’t always supportive. He is. Mostly. “Fine,” he sighs. “But you’re buying me breakfast after.”
“Deal,” Jimin says easily. “Now act normal, and maybe fix your hair.”
Blinking in confusion, Jungkook lifts a hand to pat his hair. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“It looks like you just woke up.”
“I did just wake up,” he huffs. “Not all of us can look like a ray of sunshine in the morning.” Jungkook tries to flatten his hair, clearly able to feel where it sticks up at the top until Jimin tugs at his arm.
“That’s enough,” he hisses. “They can see you.”
“Who can -” Jungkook cuts off, lifting his eyes to the path ahead of them where a group of people are gathered just off the trail. “Oh.”
There must be about a dozen men and women, a mixture of ages, all gathered around talking and stretching. A few of them are watching as they approach, waving good morning, which Jimin happily returns. Jimin’s steps speed up subtly and he beelines for a pair of men standing a bit further from the others.
One is facing away, stretching his arms over his head. He’s tall and broad and the toned, the tan bulge of his biceps looks fantastic in his tank top. The other man is curled over himself, looking annoyed as he tries (and fails) to touch his toes.
“Good morning, hyungs!”
The man trying to touch his toes straightens, frown melting into a tired smile as Jimin approaches. “Good morning, Jimin-ah.”
“Jimin!” The man in the tank top turns at the sound of Jimin’s name, giving him a warm smile that seems to glow brighter than the rising sun. He has dimples and he’s gorgeous.
Suddenly, Jungkook thinks that maybe getting up early to run isn’t so bad… not if the other runners look like this man, smiling genially as he wishes Jimin good morning, rubbing the back of his neck as he laughs at something Jimin says. His tank top stretches over his broad chest and Jungkook is having a hard time looking away.
Until Jimin nudges him.
“Kook!”
Jungkook snaps his head to the side, blinking at a very annoyed looking Park Jimin. “Sorry?”
“Still asleep, this one,” Jimin huffs, pinching Jungkook’s arm hard enough to sting. He hisses, rubbing his arm and pouting, but Jimin ignores him. “Anyway, this is my friend I was telling you both about. Jungkook, this is Min Yoongi -'' he gestures to the man with the sleepy smile, “- and Kim Namjoon.” The adonis.
They all shake hands, Jungkook trying to pretend he was not just ogling Kim Namjoon as they introduce themselves. He is very hot and, of course, it’s the crack of fucking dawn and Jungkook looks like a mess. Probably not even a hot mess.
Unfair, really. He finds himself tongue tied, sleep-deprived brain barely getting him through the fumbled greetings. Nodding dumbly when they both insist he call them hyung and trying to form his lips into a smile. Jungkook absolutely holds onto Namjoon’s hand too long and, once realized, pulls back too quickly and looks, most likely, insane.
He studiously ignores the look he can see Jimin giving him out of the corner of his eye.
Thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t have long to contemplate throwing himself into the river a few paces away, because they start running. Which, Jungkook thinks, is probably a strange thing to be thankful for, but at least he doesn’t have to keep awkwardly gaping.
Instead, he can awkwardly gape while forcing his tired limbs into motion.
Everything seems to happen quickly, all of them whisked along and falling into pairs as they jog along the path. Jimin immediately falls into step with Namjoon, acting as if Jungkook doesn’t exist. Jungkook, instead, finds himself beside Yoongi, who sounds a little like he’s going to die, breathing hard and cursing between ragged breaths.
Jungkook’s eyes are fixed on the pair ahead of him, Jimin and Namjoon talking animatedly as they run. Both looking far too put together for a dawn workout. They look good together, the two of them, and they seem totally into each other and - oh.
A wingman.
Jimin needs moral support so he can pick up Namjoon.
Of course this would happen. Jimin wants Jungkook to wingman for him with the hottest guy in the entire universe. Though Jimin doesn’t seem to be having any trouble, easily chatting away. It’s kind of funny, Jimin doesn’t usually go for bigger guys and Namjoon isn’t someone he would say is Jimin’s type.
Because, of course, he’s Jungkook’s type, and now he can’t do anything about it. He promised to help Jimin. Even if Namjoon seems so handsome and sweet, he can’t make a move if his friend is into him.
Damn.
Beside him, Yoongi lets out a loud wheeze and Jungkook snaps his head to the side, attention shifting to his running partner. “Hyung, are you okay?”
“Just leave me if I collapse,” Yoongi laments. “I’ve lived a decent life.”
“Hyung, I don’t think -”
“Never got to suffocate myself in the plushest ass in existence,” he continues on, words coming out between sharp breaths. “But we can’t all be winners.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at the dramatics, having no idea what Yoongi’s talking about. At least he doesn’t seem like he’s going to die. He refocuses on the two men in front of him, or, more accurately, on the flex of Namjoon’s thighs in his running shorts.
Life is horribly unfair.
---
When they’ve run a dizzying number of kilometers and the sun has fully risen, Jungkook finds himself saying polite goodbyes to Namjoon and Yoongi, before Jimin tugs him away.
“Isn’t he dreamy?” Jimin asks, all starry eyes and beaming smiles.
“Yeah,” Jungkook grunts. He agrees, even though he hates that he has to. Because he is dreamy, he just doesn’t really want Jimin to think so too. “He seems totally into you,” Jungkook admits. Because of course Namjoon does, who wouldn’t be into Park Jimin? “You shouldn’t worry.”
“You think so?” Jimin asks, turning to Jungkook with a smile. There’s so much hopefulness there that Jungkook can’t find it in himself to really be mad.
“Definitely,” he agrees. “He likes you, you should go for it.”
Jimin hums happily, a spring in his step as they exit the park and head toward a cafe across the street. “Great!” he chirps, beaming at Jungkook as he holds the door open for him. “Hopefully I can talk to him more at the next meeting. I feel like I didn’t get much of a chance.”
Which seems… odd. Jimin and Namjoon were talking the entire time they ran, going on and on as if no one else existed. Maybe that’s not enough for Jimin…
“You’ll come again, right?” Jimin asks.
Jungkook knows this is stupid. He should say no and save himself heartache and blueballs and a fucked up sleep schedule, but… he wants to see Namjoon’s thighs in shorts again. “Sure, hyung,” he says instead. “I’ll come again.”
---
Jungkook’s going to get hard during this run if he’s not careful. An absolutely insane thought, jogging through a park at six fifteen in the morning and silently pleading with his penis. And yet, here he is.
He feels like the type of person parents warn their teens about, the type of person people are told to stay away from. A freak with no mental filter who, once again, didn’t get enough sleep and maybe jerked it to the thought of big, thick thighs in lycra running shorts.
The lack of sleep this time is not Jungkook’s fault. He didn’t stay up until three playing League with Taehyung like earlier this week. Jungkook went to bed at a (mostly) reasonable hour and cuddled under his blankets, alarm set for far too early. And he slept, he did! But he dreamed of dimples, honey tanned skin, toned bulging biceps, and thighs.
And the thighs… well, they’re the reason Jungkook is currently making a deal with the demon inside his dick.
Once again, Jungkook finds himself jogging beside Yoongi. It’s mildly entertaining, if he’s being honest. Yoongi keeps up a near constant stream of curses under his breath, and he’s pretty sure there are a few threats on Namjoon’s life tossed in for good measure. Clearly, Yoongi isn’t a fully willing participant in this morning torture either.
So, to the lovely backdrop of Min Yoongi’s extremely colorful and creative swearing, Jungkook keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead. It’s the best practice, honestly. When running, he should definitely look ahead and be aware of what’s in front of him. It’s not his fault if what’s in front of him is Namjoon’s thighs.
Privately, Jungkook thinks that this view is almost worth getting up so early. Ass and thighs in tight shorts are a pretty big reward for dragging himself out of his bed. Maybe sometimes Namjoon jogs shirtless… Jungkook can only imagine the broad swell of his back, the firmness of his shoulders and -
No. He needs to remember that he’s here for Jimin, that he’s here to help Jimin get with Namjoon. Not for his own gain, as fantastic as it would be.
Jungkook tries, for the remainder of the jog around the park, to keep his eyes fixed on the scenery. If his eyes stray a few (dozen) times to Namjoon’s backside, it’s just because it’s in his line of sight.
By the time they finish the run, all pulling up onto a wide circle of grass alongside the path, Jungkook is annoyingly sweaty. And he can’t even blame all of it on the exercise.
Next to him, Yoongi hunches forward, hands on his thighs, and lets out a shaking breath. Jungkook watches him pant, chest heaving beneath his oversized t-shirt.
“Why do you do this if you clearly hate it so much?” Jungkook asks.
Yoongi straightens slowly, dragging his forearm across his forehead. “It has its perks,” he says, giving Jungkook a shrug. His eyes slip a little to the side, toward where Jimin and Namjoon are stretching a few meters away.
Jungkook doesn’t really get it, unsure what Yoongi’s being so cryptic about. “You come with Namjoon hyung, right?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, leaning backwards to crack his back. “He thinks I need to leave my apartment every once in a while or I’ll turn into a vampire or something.”
“I get that,” Jungkook snorts. “Jimin dragged me here for partly the same reason.”
Yoongi hums, nodding along. “Well,” he says, tilting his head and giving Jungkook a knowing look. “At least you’re getting something out of it.”
“Uh.” Jungkook licks his lips, wondering if Yoongi saw him staring. “Yeah, health benefits and stuff.”
The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches up into a small smirk. “Right,” he murmurs. “Health benefits.” His eyes dip to the side again and Jungkook definitely feels perceived.
“I don’t know what -” Jungkook begins, but Yoongi just smiles and turns his head.
“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi calls, cutting Jungkook off. Jimin turns, blinking in interest at being addressed. “Can you help me stretch? I’ve got what feels like a bit of a cramp in my thigh.”
Jimin’s curious expression blossoms into a bright smile and he’s rushing over. “Of course, hyung!” he chirps. “I get those all the time, I can definitely help.” His hands are suddenly all over Yoongi’s thighs and Jungkook turns away before he has to see something weird.
“Hey, Jungkook.”
Blinking in surprise, Jungkook jerks his head up. His gaze shifts from the grass, sliding up long legs, a muscular torso and firm pecs to - Namjoon’s polite smile. “Hi, hyung,” he breathes, hoping his voice sounds normal.
Namjoon’s smile deepens, dimples popping in his cheeks. “Your endurance is really impressive,” Namjoon says. “Do you run a lot?”
“Oh.” Jungkook can’t help but blush at the praise. He has to stop himself from making a suggestive joke about his stamina like a pervert. “Not really? I work out a lot at the gym, but I don’t do that much cardio.”
“Even more impressive that you can run so far! I work out too, I’ve been working on increasing my upper body strength lately.”
It is very obvious, with the way Namjoon’s tank top strains across his chest, that it’s been going well. “You seem to be a great runner,” Jungkook says. “Your form is really good.” He hopes that sounds less greasy than it felt leaving his lips.
Namjoon doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with it, ducking his head as he smiles again. “Thank you, Jungkook-ah. I’m actually a physical therapy student so I try really hard to maintain proper form. Preventing injuries is important!” He claps his hands together, biceps bulging, and Jungkook audibly gulps.
“Very important,” he croaks.
He’d love to have Namjoon help him with his form…
“What do you do?” Namjoon asks. “Are you in school?”
“I’m a graphic designer,” Jungkook says. “Mostly freelance, I work from home.”
Namjoon nods along. “Ah, Yoongi hyung works from home too. I started dragging him here because I was worried he’d develop some sort of sun allergy. He was so pale he was almost translucent!”
They laugh together and Jungkook finds himself smiling, falling into easy conversation with Namjoon. They talk about their hobbies and interests, Namjoon admitting he also likes video games, though he’s not very good. Namjoon likes art museums, bike rides, hiking. Jungkook likes those things, though he doesn’t do them very often. They could be fun to do, fun to do with Namjoon.
“Jungkookie!” Jimin’s voice cuts into their conversation and Jungkook jumps, guilt surging through him.
Turning his head, Jungkook sees Jimin and Yoongi approaching. Both of them are a little pink cheeked, Yoongi’s shorts bunched up a little higher on his slim legs than they were before. “Hyung, I -”
“Are you and Namjoonie hyung chatting?” Jimin says, latching onto Jungkook’s arm with a smile. He seems perfectly at ease and interested, Jungkook isn’t sure if it’s a trap or not.
“Uh, we were just talking about running,” Jungkook says lamely.
“Cute,” Jimin says, nodding along. “Well, Yoongi hyung and I are all stretched out.” The way he says it sounds vaguely obscene and Yoongi coughs lightly, cheeks turning pinker. “Ready to go?”
Jungkook glances back at Namjoon, who is still smiling, though it looks a bit tight. “Sure,” he says, flashing Namjoon his own small smile. “See you guys soon.”
“Bye!” Jimin calls, tugging at Jungkook’s arm to drag him away as Yoongi and Namjoon chorus their own goodbyes. “Today was excellent,” he says happily. “How about smoothies? Hyung’s treat.”
Jungkook nods, unable to help the sinking feeling in his chest as Jimin leads him along the path and away from Namjoon’s dimpled smile.
---
“He has the best smile, don’t you think?”
“Uh huh,” Jungkook mumbles, jabbing at his smoothie with his straw. He’s barely half listening as Jimin rambles, once again about his crush’s best qualities.
“And his blonde hair look so good,” Jimin continues. “Even when he’s sweaty! I’d love to see him sweaty in other situations.” He sighs dreamily. “And such broad shoulders! I could just drape myself across them.”
Jungkook frowns down at his drink, mind whirling with thoughts of Namjoon’s smile, his shoulders, his hair, as Jimin goes on and on.
“I think the best part,” Jimin adds, “is that we’re both about the same height.”
And that - well, that one is confusing. He blinks, looking up, about to speak, but Jimin is already talking again. Jimin is sensitive about his height, always saying he’s taller. Maybe this is something like that…
“I love his legs.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook murmurs in agreement. Namjoon’s thighs are probably one of the great wonders of the world.
“They’re so slim,” Jimin breathes. “I bet I could wrap both my hands around his thigh and squeeze and my fingers would touch.”
“Yeah, I -” Jungkook cuts off, jerking his head up to frown at Jimin. “Wait, what?”
“What?” Jimin frowns right back at him.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Jungkook replies. “Your hands are tiny.”
Jimin’s frown deepens. “Yes, well, so are his legs.”
“Namjoon hyung’s legs are huge,” Jungkook argues. “They’re like… sculpted. What are you talking about?”
“Oh.” Jimin’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline as he leans forward, propping his chin on his hand. “Kookie, love,” he begins, something a little self-satisfied in his tone, “why do you think I’m talking about Namjoon?”
“Uh?” Jungkook wonders if this is some sort of test. “You’re always running with him and talking to him. It’s obvious you like him.” Suddenly he’s not so sure. “Right?”
“Oh, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin gives him a pitying look. “I like Yoongi.”
“What?” Jungkook’s brain grinds to a halt.
“I want to get my hands inside those compression shorts he wears under his athletic shorts and mark up all that pretty pale -”
“But I thought -” Jungkook tries to cut in.
But Jimin sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Just really go to town on him. Bet I could take him apart, have him begging for my -”
“Please stop,” Jungkook interrupts. “This is so gross. So… wait, you don’t like Namjoon?”
“Certainly not,” Jimin snorts. “I’m after the twink.”
Everything in Jungkook’s life suddenly falls into place. The clouds open, the sun shines, angels sing, and Jungkook is going to bag himself a himbo.
---
Jungkook has a plan and he’s going to put it into motion. After calling Jimin a coward a handful of times on their walk there, he had riled his hyung up enough that, when the group started, Jimin immediately fell back to run with Yoongi. The sound the already wheezing man made when Jimin flashed his most charming smile was frightening. Disgusting.
But now, Jungkook is left to run beside Namjoon. Namjoon, who gives him a dimpled smile, and asks how Jungkook’s weekend was. Jungkook responds easily and they talk as they run, chatting about what they did over the weekend, how the workweek is going so far.
Jungkook keeps his pace deliberately slow, letting Jimin and Yoongi pass them. Jimin shoots him a wink and Jungkook smiles as Namjoon mentions how pretty a flowering bush is. When they’re at the back and the rest of the group disappears around a corner, Jungkook makes his move.
He stumbles, knocking into Namjoon a little, before tripping dramatically and falling onto one knee. Gasping, Jungkook curls over himself, clutching his ankle.
Immediately, Namjoon is on the ground beside him, expression worried. “Jungkook-ah, are you alright?”
“Ah, hyung,” Jungkook whines, pouting and widening his eyes, “I got a cramp and now I’ve hurt my ankle.”
“Does it hurt?” Namjoon asks, hovering over him and gingerly touching Jungkook’s ankle. “Can you walk?”
Jungkook pouts harder, letting his eyes get a little teary. “I’m not sure, hyung.”
“Alright, let me help you up,” Namjoon says, rocking back on his heels. “I’ll support you.”
Namjoon’s hands are firm and warm as he helps Jungkook up, slinging an arm around his waist to support him. Jungkook hobbles along, leaning into Namjoon’s side as they walk along the path to one of the entrances.
“We could call a doctor,” Namjoon suggests, glancing at Jungkook. “Or…” he hesitates a moment. “I am in physical therapy, I could take you to my apartment and check you out?”
“I trust you, hyung,” Jungkook says, blinking wide eyes up at Namjoon. “I know you’ll take good care of me.” He’s sure he’s laying it on a little thick, but Namjoon only nods and pulls out his phone to call a taxi.
---
“I’ll get some ice,” Namjoon says, settling Jungkook on his couch with a pillow beneath his ankle to prop it up. “Maybe some painkillers.” He bustles around, mumbling to himself as cabinets open and close. Jungkook can’t help but feel a little guilty as Namjoon goes through so much trouble…
When he returns, Namjoon passes Jungkook a glass of water and some painkillers before sitting on the couch. Gingerly, Namjoon lifts Jungkook’s legs and sets them on his lap, leaning over him to look at his ankle. “It doesn’t look swollen,” he murmurs, fingertips tracing over skin. Jungkook tries not to shiver at the contact. “We should ice it to be sure. Maybe I can call a doctor or a senior in my class. They can make sure it’s not twisted and -”
The guilt is too much. Namjoon is so sweet and earnest, trying so hard to help, and Jungkook is a deviant. He breaks. “Hyung, wait,” he cuts in.
Namjoon pauses, looking up from Jungkook’s ankle. “Am I hurting you?”
God, he’s so nice. “No,” Jungkook says, biting his lip. “I’m not hurt.”
There’s a pause, Namjoon’s face shifting into a mask of confusion. “What?”
“Okay, uh… I pretended to be hurt because I think you’re hot and… well I didn’t really have a plan after that but… yeah. I like you so I - uh…” Jungkook trails off, feeling ridiculous. He’s sure Namjoon will call him insane or weird, then immediately kick him out.
But instead, Namjoon blinks and then chuckles fondly as he shakes his head. “Well, this is ethically questionable but I can't say I’m exactly upset that you did the work for me.”
“I -” It’s Jungkook’s turn to be confused now. “What?”
“Jimin mentioned he had a cute friend he wanted me to meet,” Namjoon confesses. “He said he’d bring him, you, to the club. But I’m notoriously awkward about meeting people and when you showed up… well, I was nervous because you’re so hot.” He laughs again, the tips of his ears turning red. “So I stuck with Jimin, but I’ve been trying to get closer to you to ask you out for coffee or something.”
“Oh.” Jungkook would like the earth to swallow him up. “So I didn’t have to throw myself on the ground?”
“I was going to ask you to grab coffee when we finished,” Namjoon laughs.
Well, fuck.
“Wow,” Jungkook breathes. “That’s -” he pauses, studying Namjoon. “So you don’t think I’m a psycho?”
Namjoon snorts. “No, I think you’re extremely cute. But also, joking about running injuries isn't exactly the best energy to put out there. You gotta take good care of your joints.”
Jungkook nods, fidgeting a little. His legs are still on Namjoon’s lap, Namjoon’s hands resting casually on his shins, as if he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Jungkook likes Namjoon’s hands on him. Big and strong, warm.
“Hyung,” he murmurs, shifting a little, “maybe my joints are a little sore…”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Maybe I could use a massage.” He blinks innocently. “You know, just a small… rub down?”
Namjoon blinks at him a moment before smiling, but this one is knowing, sly. “Of course,” he says. “For your joints.”
Strong fingers press into Jungkook’s legs, starting with his shins and calves, slowly working their way up his thighs. Jungkook shivers beneath the touch, loving the way it feels.
“You have great thighs,” Namjoon murmurs, fingertips pressing into skin, slipping beneath the hem of Jungkook’s shorts.
“Yours are stronger,” Jungkook breathes. “So big.”
Namjoon huffs out a small laugh, eyes fixed on Jungkook’s legs. “With how much leg work you do, it’s no surprise you’re so -” he looks up, meeting Jungkook’s gaze, “tight.” Jungkook barely stifles a groan. “Maybe you should climb up here so I can get a better hold of them.”
He gestures to his lap, to those glorious thighs encased in lycra, and Jungkook needs no further encouragement. Scrambling up, Jungkook practically throws himself into Namjoon’s lap, straddling him and winding his arms around Namjoon’s neck. Namjoon’s hands land on his hips to steady him and then slide to his thighs. Thumbs tickle along Jungkook’s inner thighs, making his breath hitch.
“Is this okay?” Namjoon asks, eyes dark.
“So okay,” Jungkook breathes, shifting closer. “Kiss me?”
Their lips meet in a tentative kiss, eyes fluttering closed as they connect. Namjoon’s lips are soft and warm, pressing gently against Jungkook’s. Their mouths move together, a little unsure, testing the waters, but it’s still dizzying. Jungkook tilts his head, slotting their lips more firmly together.
Namjoon’s fingers squeeze into Jungkook’s thighs and Jungkook lets out a soft gasp, lips falling open. It seems to be all the invitation Namjoon needs to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding along Jungkook’s bottom lip and into his mouth. Jungkook responds immediately, enthusiastically. Their tongues tangle together, wet and slick, as Jungkook winds his fingers in Namjoon’s hair, tugging gently to feel the hitch of his breath.
The hands on his thighs slide higher, fingertips slipping beneath Jungkook’s shorts, thumbs sliding dangerously high along Jungkook’s legs. He can feel his cock swelling in his shorts, pressing against the thin fabric of his briefs. Embarrassing maybe, that he’s hard already, from just a little kissing. But he thinks it would be impossible not to be affected by the way Namjoon’s hands squeeze his thighs, fingertips tickling his skin.
Pressing closer, Jungkook licks more firmly into Namjoon’s mouth, tightening his grip around his neck. As he moves, he can tell he’s not the only one affected, he can feel the hard outline of Namjoon’s cock beneath his ass, heat nearly palpable through the layers of clothing separating them.
It makes a shiver trail down Jungkook’s spine, knowing Namjoon is just as affected. Energy thrums through his veins and Jungkook wants more.
“Hyung,” he mewls, lips dragging over Namjoon’s as he speaks. “Hyung.”
Namjoon hums, nudging their noses together. “What is it, baby?”
Baby. The pet name sends a jolt of fire straight to Jungkook’s dick.
“Love your hands, hyung,” he breathes, panting into Namjoon’s mouth as the fingers tease even higher, nudging at the edge of his briefs. “Want your hands. Want you to touch me.” He knows he sounds desperate, wanton, needy.
“I am touching you,” Namjoon whispers, nipping at Jungkook’s bottom lip.
The whine that bubbles from Jungkook’s chest is mortifying, but he can’t seem to help it. Honestly, he’d like nothing more than for Namjoon to flip him off his lap and shove his face down into the cushions, fuck right into him until Jungkook is screaming and crying on his cock. But right now, he just wants to be touched.
“Hyung,” Jungkook breathes, tugging at Namjoon’s hair.
A soft chuckle, Namjoon smiling against his lips. “Hyung’s got you,” Namjoon murmurs, tilting his head to reconnect their mouths.
The kiss is messy, wet and slippery as their tongues meet again. Sloppy from the way they move, trying to keep their mouths pressed together as Jungkook lifts on his knees. Namjoon’s hands tug at his shorts, fingers dipping beneath the waistband to pull shorts and briefs down far enough for Jungkook’s cock to spring free. Jungkook returns the favor, pawing at Namjoon’s shorts until he lifts a little, allowing Jungkook to yank his clothes down just far enough.
Breaking the kiss, Jungkook gazes between them. Namjoon is big, thick cock flushed a deep red, nearly purple at the head. Sticky and shiny already, precum dripping from the tip. Jungkook wonders how it would feel in his mouth, how good Namjoon would taste. How he -
“Lick,” Namjoon orders, breaking Jungkook out of his thoughts. Blinking, Jungkook lifts his eyes, finding Namjoon’s palm in front of his mouth. He does as he’s told, licking a wet stripe along Namjoon’s hand. “Good,” Namjoon praises.
And then all coherent thought leaves Jungkook’s brain as Namjoon wraps his wet palm around both of them. He groans, head falling forward so their foreheads bump. Their cocks press together, sticky heads meeting, nerve endings on fire as they rub. Namjoon slides his palm along their lengths, gathering precum to add to the saliva on his hand.
It’s slick, not quite wet enough but so good. Namjoon’s hand is big and he squeezes them so tightly, fist pumping slowly along their lengths. Jungkook can’t help but wiggle a little, hips kicking up to thrust into the tight circle of his fingers. He can feel Namjoon’s cock twitch against his own where they’re trapped together and it makes Jungkook want to scream.
He kisses Namjoon instead, crashing their mouths together and shoving his tongue past Namjoon’s lips. It’s hungry and wet, so messy as they nip and suck at each other’s lips. Namjoon’s hand squeezes again, moving so torturously slow along their cocks.
Unwrapping one arm from Namjoon’s neck, Jungkook brings his own hand down. He curls his fingers around Namjoon’s, fitting into the gaps between his fingers to squeeze along with him. It feels so hot, so tight and wet as Namjoon groans into his mouth. Jungkook’s hand isn’t as big as Namjoon’s, but it makes it tighter, makes it feel even better.
They move together, hands sliding faster now as they chase release. Jungkook’s hips seem to be moving on their own, desperate for more friction. But Namjoon isn’t faring much better, giving his own messy thrusts into the cage of their hands. Every squeeze of their fingers, every slide of their cockheads together has heat building in Jungkook’s belly. His entire body feels like it’s boiling, pleasure coiling tight.
“Hyung,” he rasps, “gonna -”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when Namjoon’s hand is tightening, squeezing their sticky cockheads. Jungkook tumbles over the edge with a groan, teeth digging into Namjoon’s body lip as he jerks, spilling over their clasped hands. Namjoon curses, his free hand tightening on Jungkook’s hip as his hips buck. A deep moan spills past his lips, straight into Jungkook’s mouth as he finds his own release.
Everything blurs, fuzz and flashbulbs behind Jungkook’s eyelids, a choir of angels singing in his ears. Euphoria washes over him as Namjoon milks them through their shared orgasm. Pricklings of oversensitivity have him squirming until Namjoon’s hand falls away and Jungkook’s brain melts out of his ears.
Jungkook slumps hard into Namjoon’s chest, their foreheads pressed together as they pant heavily against each other’s mouths. One of Namjoon’s hands skates up and down Jungkook’s back, soothing and grounding. He hums softly, tilting his head to connect their lips in a lazy kiss. They’re both messy, sticky and sweaty and in need of a shower, but Jungkook doesn’t care.
There’s an incessant buzzing from the couch cushion beside them and Jungkook frowns, turning his head to his phone lit up with multiple notifications. Grumbling, he unwinds his arm from Namjoon’s neck and reaches for the device, tapping in his pin.
[Jimin-ssi]
Are you dead?
Helllooo?
Where did you go?
Did you get eaten by wolves? Abducted?
Jungkook grimaces, realizing he should have told Jimin they were leaving.
[Jeon Jungkook]
Sorry. Namjoon and I left. We, uh, were maybe… busy?
[Jimin-ssi]
Ew. You’re such a dumbass
[Jeon Jungkook]
???
[Jimin-ssi]
I’ve been trying to hook you up with that big dumb tree this whole time.
Why do you think I invited you to the club?
[Jeon Jungkook]
I thought you needed me as a wingman?
The next message is a bunch of laughing emojis that Jungkook stares at in confusion.
[Jimin-ssi]
Lol
You’re cute
As if I need your help. Yoongi is sucking my dick right now
To illustrate the point, a picture comes through right after. Jimin’s fingers tangled in tousled blonde hair, a head buried between his legs. Groaning, Jungkook throws his phone onto the couch and turns to Namjoon, a pout back on his lips.
“Hyung,” he whines, snuggling closer, “I’m still a little sore. Think I’m still hurt.”
Namjoon’s lips quirk into a smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook is very aware that they’re still half naked. He’d like them to be fully naked. “Maybe hyung can help?
“Of course I can,” Namjoon murmurs, cupping the back of his neck to draw Jungkook into another kiss.