Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3306611.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jeongguk_|_Jungkook/Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Min
      Yoongi_|_Suga, Jeon_Jungkook/Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope
  Character:
      Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Park
      Jimin, Jeon_Jeongguk_|_Jungkook, Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Kidnapping, Trauma, Angst, Abuse, Imprisonment,
      Isolation, Minor_Injuries, Emotional/Psychological_Abuse
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-07 Updated: 2017-05-27 Chapters: 4/? Words: 10065
****** 21 Days ******
by Kijang
Summary
     Resistance is futile.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Day 00. *****
Subject No. 01
Being the mother-figure to his bandmates was a tough job. At least, that’s how
Seokjin saw it. It came with a sense of responsibility, perhaps even
obligation. He cooked for them, cleaned for them, made sure everyone was well
rested and so on. When Namjoon wasn’t around, he would be the peacemaker.
During trainee years, he was a third parent to Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung. He
had grown close to Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon.
The other members were his brothers, but in a way, they were also his children.
Now here, alone in this prison cell, without his bandmates, he could feel the
worry rising like bile in his throat.
His stomach was twisting and turning as he fidgeted with the worn out blanket
he found on the bare mattress.
Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jeongguk.
He kept repeating their names. Whether it was out loud or just in his head,
Seokjin didn’t know. All he knew is that he wanted them with him.
He didn’t want to be alone.
 
Subject No. 02
To say that Yoongi was feeling angry would be an understatement. Pure rage was
a better fit.
As soon as he realised he was trapped, he screamed his throat raw. First, he
called for his members, then their manager, until he settled on screaming for
anyone at all. He pounded his fists on the steel door until the sides of his
hands started to turn blue.
After a while, his screams and shouts quieted down until finally, and all he
could do was croak out pleas for help.
His strikes grew weak until he couldn’t stop himself from flinching after each
hit.
When he stopped calling for help, and no longer raised his fists, he sunk to
the floor. He sat quietly now, propped up against the door.
Staring at the blank wall ahead of him, he absentmindedly rubbed at the bruised
skin of his hands. He hadn’t completely given up though.
His jaw was still clenched tight and his eyes still revealed his true feelings.
 
Subject No. 03
By nature, Hoseok wasn’t the type to sit still. He was a dancer; made for
movement. He had dedicated his life, body and soul to his art.
But now, it seems like the only thing he can do is sit and wait. He had already
exhausted all the (very few) possibilities for escape. He called for help, but
it seemed that no one could hear him. He had already taken inventory of the
small room. Bare mattress with a thin blanket, stainless steel toilet and sink,
the kind you’d see in one of those American prison shows Namjoon recently
started watching.
All of his belongings were gone. All of his clothes had been stripped from him.
So he simply sat.
As if he couldn’t entirely comprehend what was going on. That he was trapped.
That he was alone. That there was nothing for him to do.
He didn’t want to entertain thoughts of what would happen to him.
But they came anyway.
And all Hoseok could do was sit and let them.
 
Subject No. 04
If you asked Namjoon to describe how he reacts in emergencies, he would say
that he reacts rationally. Rather than getting angry and frustrated (Yoongi),
emotional and worried (Seokjin) or shutting down in some way (Hoseok, Jimin,
Jeongguk and Taehyung), he liked to think that his responses were calculated
and based on reason. One way he kept himself sane in this kind of situation,
was pacing.
So Namjoon paced in the cramped space that was his cell.
It was definitely a cell. A small space with concrete walls, a heavy steel door
and a camera monitoring his every move. The water seemed safe enough to drink,
so he drank, only to return to pacing right after.
Who would do this? Why would they do this?
Why them, no – why him?
He could only be certain of his own captivity, Namjoon reasoned. His members
were all pretty smart. Perhaps they were lucky enough to evade capture, or
something.
Though somehow, the illogical part of him – his heart – told otherwise.
 
Subject No. 05
Jimin didn’t like silence very much. As a dancer and singer, he needed sound in
his life. Music of course, but ultimately, sound was at the core of it. He
usually had at least someone to talk to, and even when he didn’t have anyone
around, he’d be listening to music on his phone.
Seokjin hyung would hum while he was cooking back at the dorm. Yoongi hyung
would be tapping out a beat, and even as he slept he would snore softly.
Namjoon hyung would be tapping away on his laptop. Hoseok hyung would be
tapping his feet. Taehyung would be talking, endlessly. Jeongguk would be
singing or humming at all times.
In a way, sounds from his bandmates were a safety blanket for him.
Reassurance that he wasn’t alone.
But it was like that safety blanket had been torn from him, ripped straight
from his still grasping hands.
So to fill this incessant silence, Jimin spoke.
Calling himself “Jiminnie”, he wondered out loud what he should do.
 
Subject No. 06
Taehyung rarely felt afraid.
Somehow living with your head in the clouds was the best way to cope with any
kind of anxiety. He was comfortable looking at the world in a way that others
deemed strange. Like this, he wouldn’t deal with any sort of pain. He wouldn’t
have to think about what others thought, because to him, they were simply
extra’s in this huge convoluted movie called life.
Somehow, this movie had become a horror film in a blink of an eye.
The last thing Taehyung could remember was sitting in the van with his
bandmates. They were on their way to a schedule outside of Seoul - in Bucheon,
if he recalls correctly. They had been messing around when they stopped at a
red light, and after that –
Blank.
Now he’s stuck in what appears to be a prison cell. A bare mattress with a lone
blanket on top and a toilet and sink in the other corner. That’s all there is.
There are no extras and everything is way too real.
 
Subject No. 07
If Jeongguk had to describe what kind of emotion he was feeling right now, he
would say fear. He already screamed for his hyungs. He had yelled that this
whole prank wasn’t funny at all.
But after what feels like an hour (though he has no way of telling without his
phone or watch), he came to realise that this was not a joke at all. This
wasn’t Jimin trying to get back at him for putting Pepsi in his shampoo bottle.
This was real.
Glancing around at the barren cell, he sinks to his knees. The concrete floor
is cold and bites the thin skin on his knees. He rubs his hands together and
briefly considers clasping them in prayer. Though he never really paid
attention whenever his grandparents took him to the temple, so he doesn’t know
what to do.
Suddenly a projector is switched on, lighting up the small room.
When he sees the message projected on the wall, he starts to cry.
***** Day 01 *****
Chapter Summary
     Day 01 of 21
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Seokjin doesn’t know what to do. Jeongguk is curled up on the single mattress
in the corner of the room clutching his ankle. He looks all too small and frail
in the loose tank top and shorts he’s wearing. The same as Seokjin. The only
difference is the numbers embroidered on the left breast. Zero one and zero
seven.
“It hurts,” he whimpers, shoulders trembling and tears slipping down his pale
cheeks.
After the first shock, Jeongguk hadn’t cried. He only realised how much damage
had been done when he struggled to “room no. 08.” When he saw how badly his
ankle was burnt, he screamed in panic and nearly fell forward. He ended up
crawling to the mattress, tears streaming down his face.
“Can I see?” Seokjin asks quietly, sitting down beside Jeongguk.
He moves slowly, as if he’s trying to approach an injured animal. Jeongguk nods
gingerly and hides his face in his shoulder. It’s okay. It’s all right. Seokjin
is gentle and kind. He’s like a mother and Jeongguk trusts him. He lifts his
hand to reveal the electronic anklet locked around his leg. The skin underneath
the band is an angry seared red. It looks blistered. Seokjin bites his lip.
“We need to cool it,” says Seokjin, glancing at Jeongguk’s face.
Jeongguk grimaces and struggles to his feet. Seokjin instead gathers the
younger boy up in his arms and carries him with a bit of difficulty to the
shower in the far corner of the room. He sets Jeongguk down and runs the water,
testing to see if it’s cool enough.
Jeongguk whimpers when the cold water hits his burned skin as he sticks his leg
under the water.
“Hyung, it hurts and…”
He trails off, fresh tears springing into his eyes. He chokes up.
“We have to –“
Seokjin sits down next Jeongguk outside the shower. He wraps an arms around
Jeongguk’s shoulders and hides his face in Jeongguk’s hair.
“I know.”
Part of him expected it, though it still comes as a surprise when Jeongguk
starts bawling uncontrollably in his arms. Loud and shameless sobs. He cries so
hard he ends up choking and hiccupping, shaking like a leaf. The last time
Seokjin saw him cry like this, he was thirteen and had been scolded for showing
up late to dance practice. Jeongguk had later confessed to him that he was
studying for an exam and that he was scared of failing.
“I don’t want to! Don’t wanna! No! I really don’t want to – why hyung? Why me-
why us?”
He shakes and Seokjin can’t stop the tears from spilling from his own eyes. He
didn’t want to do this either. Doesn’t want to.
“I know Jeonggukkie – Hyung is – I’m scared too.”
Jeongguk hides his face in Seokjin’s neck. Seokjin rests his cheek against the
top of Jeongguk’s head. His tears have dried for the most part, probably from
shock. His arms are wrapped around Seokjin’s waist. His grip is tight, as if
he’s hugging one of Yoongi’s giant stuffed animals. God, he’s still a child and
he doesn’t deserve this. At all.
Why him?
The two of them remain silent for a few minutes. The only sound in the room is
that of the shower running. The noise echoes slightly and makes Seokjin shiver.
“How’s your ankle?”
His voice is soft. Seokjin is motherly and safe and Jeongguk feels better
knowing his hyung is there with him.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
His voice is equally quiet. But in contrast to Seokjin’s caring and sweet tone,
he sounds meek and shy. Seokjin can feel him trembling in the thin tank top and
shorts.
“I’ll shut off the water then.”
After the water’s turned off, Seokjin carries Jeongguk back to the mattress,
taking care not to jostle the boy. He dries Jeongguk’s leg as best he can (with
his own singlet as there aren’t any towels to use). Gently he tucks Jeongguk
under the covers of the bed, stroking his inky hair.
Seokjin drapes his shirt over the barely-heated radiator opposite the bed.
Shivering, he sits back down on the bed.
When Jeongguk pulls him down to lie beside him, he rubs the hot tears away from
his eyes. Wrapping his arms around Jeongguk, he pulls the boy close for warmth.
Before settling in to sleep, Seokjin glances at the clock.
01:07
A little under twenty-three hours left.
“Just sleep for now, Gukkie,” Seokjin whispers against the pale skin of
Jeongguk’s forehead.
“Maybe it’s all a dream.”
But it’s not and Seokjin can only wish for sleep.
How can he possibly sleep with this assignment hanging over their heads like
this? Seokjin continuously glances at the clock. The number changes slowly –
far too slowly and he briefly wonders if their captors are messing with it just
to fuck with their heads.
This drags on for hours until somehow, Jeongguk falls into a restless sleep.
The salt tracks on his cheeks dry and crack, compelling Seokjin to at wipe them
away with his thumb. Jeongguk stirs but doesn’t wake. Seokjin feels a stab of
pain in his heart.
Jeongguk is so young. He’s barely legal. He’s never dated anyone. He’s never
kissed anyone. There was that one time that their manager had bought soju for
them. After a few glasses, Jeongguk had kissed Seokjin on the cheek and
declared his love for his ‘eomma.’ Much like a kindergartner with a crush on
his teacher.
A child.
And now he’s being forced to do this.
With his oldest hyung, of all people. Not that Seokjin has much more experience
than Jeongguk. He had a girlfriend briefly in the past, but it didn’t work out
for various reasons. Seokjin attributes it to the fact that he didn’t like
women at all in the first place. There was that one time he had given a fellow
trainee a handjob and after that he had had a few secret “run-ins” with other
boys.
However, this didn’t make doing this (he refuses to even string a sentence with
“sex” and “Jeongguk” together in his head) with Jeongguk any better.
At 08:01 (or so Seokjin assumes based off the possibly faulty clock) the hatch
in the door opens and a tray of food slides into the room. It’s nothing much:
bread, milk and some boiled beef. There are two pills in a small paper cup
alongside the food. The suppressants, Seokjin figures. They’ll eventually get
the antidote, he hopes.
Gently, Seokjin wakes Jeongguk.
“Jeonggukkie? Wake up,” he whispers softly.
“Mm?” Jeongguk hums sleepily and sits up.
“There’s food.”
“Oh.”
Jeongguk struggles to get out of bed until Seokjin forces him to sit back down.
“Don’t move, your ankle was burned really badly.”
He hurries to bring the tray over to Jeongguk, folding out the legs from the
tray to rest above Jeongguk’s lap.
“There’s meat,” he says with a dry chuckle.
Without asking, he takes pieces from his own plate and places them on
Jeongguk’s.
“Hyung!”
“You better eat that, because you need it more than I do,” says Seokjin,
popping a piece into his mouth.
When Jeongguk opens his mouth to protest again, Seokjin’s expression turns from
playful to sad.
“Please, Jeongguk, I- please just eat. If you want to make me happy, you’ll at
least do that for me.”
Jeongguk closes his mouth and swallows thickly. He can’t refuse. Reluctantly he
begins to eat the meagre meal. The pill is difficult to pass, but he somehow
manages. Seokjin is a lot better with it for some reason. Jeongguk suppresses
the urge to make an ‘old man’ joke and turns back to his food. This isn’t the
time for jokes and he can barely hold his chopsticks properly.
They have plenty of water and Seokjin fills Jeongguk’s cup as many times as he
asks. He fusses over Jeongguk as if they’re not in this horrible situation.
They’re back at the dorm and Jeongguk is feeling under the weather.
Once they’ve eaten all the food and piled the used plates up near the door,
they lie together in bed. They both try to sleep a bit more, but end up
huddling together in silence. Seokjin’s pulse is a tad too quick. Jeongguk can
hear it, resting his head on his hyung’s chest.
Jeongguk glances at the glaring clock over the door.
11:33
He’s scared to say it out loud. What they have to do.
So he tries to make small talk.
“They called it a social experiment… What are they even trying to learn from
this?” he says, not looking at Seokjin.
“I dunno,” Seokjin shrugs and frowns.
“Do you think the others are okay?” Jeongguk tries again.
“Considering that we’re okay… I think they are. As long as no one tries to
resist, I think they’ll be okay. I mean, with what happened to your ankle...”
Seokjin trails off.
Resistance is futile. That was made clear in the assignment projected on the
wall.
“How’s your ankle now?” Seokjin asks, worried frown on his face.
“It’s… sore, but it’s not stinging like it was before,” Jeongguk grimaces as he
looks at the reddened ring around his ankle. The skin was still a bit tender,
and Jeongguk has to bite back the urge to whine whenever the band around it
rubs against it.
“That’s good…”
Seokjin’s still very quiet and doesn’t meet Jeongguk’s gaze.
At 12:02 the hatch in the door opens and the tray is pulled out of the room and
promptly closed before either of them are able to react.
Jeongguk blinks owlishly before settling back against the mattress.
“It was kind of comforting, you know, having food like that,” he says, sighing
with a wry smile.
Seokjin nods absentmindedly, before getting up to explore the room. It’s a lot
bigger than the cell he was in before. About two to three times as big. In one
corner, near the door, there’s a shower. Opposite that, away from the door, is
the bed, which is more like a flimsy mattress on the floor with a bigger and
slightly better blanket than in his cell. Across from that, there’s a radiator
(it’s finally heating up properly - and his shirt seems to be drying as well).
In the final corner there’s a table of sorts, with a drawer - something Seokjin
hadn’t noticed earlier.
It takes a bit of struggling with the knob but somehow Seokjin manages to
wrench the drawer open. What he sees makes his stomach turn.
The small drawer is packed with a few bottles full of a clear liquid and a
large amount of condoms.
The sight nearly knocks Seokjin back. He takes a deep breath and bites his
knuckles to stop himself from breaking down again. As much as he wants to
believe it’s not real, that this is all a sick new reality show, that this is a
prank from their manager – hell even the other members. But he knows it’s not.
He closes the drawer with a bit more force than necessary and goes back to sit
on the bed. He laces his fingers together and stares at the floor. He’s not
sure how to bring this.
“What was in there, hyung?” Jeongguk asks, about to get up and take a look for
himself.
“... Stuff we need for later,” Seokjin’s voice is flat.
He doesn’t look up at Jeongguk.
“We took the suppressants.”
Seokjin nods curtly.
“It’s not enough. We need the antidote. To get that we need to complete the
six… assignments,” he says the last word, gingerly.
It’s a bitter word to use. This is all a sick game and no one wants to play.
But they must, if they want to live. The message projected on the wall in the
cell had felt unreal. The sickest prank imaginable, but no. It was reality and
Jeongguk didn’t want to face it. Neither did Seokjin, for that matter.
He drops his voice to a whisper.
“Hyung can try to make it so you don’t suffer as much.”
Jeongguk swallows uncomfortably. He sits up to look at Seokjin with wide eyes.
His mouth opens and closes for a moment before he finally speaks. He averts his
gaze.
“Seokjin hyung… Why…?”
Seokjin swallows the lump that rises in his throat. Why Jeongguk?
“I’m willing to make it so that my youngest doesn’t suffer. I care about you,
Jeongguk and… If I have to do that then so be it.”
Jeongguk meets his gaze once more.
“You mean…?”
“It’ll make it easier for you so just… bear with it and I’ll take the pain.”
Jeongguk is silent and he stares at the floor. He wiggles his toes together and
twiddles his fingers. Slowly he nods.
Seokjin glances at the clock.
15:26
Less than nine hours left.
“Here’s what we’ll do, I’ll… prepare myself alone, and you only have to focus
on getting yourself ready, okay?”
Jeongguk looks nervous and he’s trembling again. He bites his lower lip
nervously. He looks away from Seokjin to stare at the floor. Slowly, he nods.
Seokjin nods in response.
“Okay.”
His voice is soft and shaky. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he
gets up and takes a single bottle and a small foil package from the drawer,
slamming it shut with a sharp intake of breath. He doesn’t hand the condom to
Jeongguk, instead placing in front of him on the bed. It makes the ordeal less
personal, in a way. Jeongguk snatches the package up with a trembling hand and
turns his back to face away from Seokjin. He doesn’t remove his singlet,
Seokjin notes. Understandable. No need to expose yourself any more than
necessary in this situation.
Seokjin silently wishes his shirt was dry.
Kneeling on the bed, Seokjin swallows as he takes the small bottle in hand.
Shyly, he wriggles out of his shorts. He can hear Jeongguk’s laboured breathing
from behind him. With each sigh from Jeongguk, he feels his stomach twisting
into knots. Why did it have to be Jeongguk? Their darling youngest? He could
barely call himself a man yet. Perhaps if it had been Hoseok, or Namjoon, to go
first, it would not have been as difficult.
He wouldn’t feel as guilty.
In a half-hearted attempt to calm himself, Seokjin breathes deeply. This part
of the act isn’t scary; he had done this before. With another man even, but not
with someone as young – as innocent, as Jeongguk. To say it made him feel
uncomfortable and guilty would be an understatement. His hands are shaking.
He pops the cap off the bottle and squeezes some of the gel onto his fingers.
He stifles a gasp at how cold it is on his fingers. His stomach twists over the
idea of that coldness inside of him.
He shivers.
And to his own shame, he can feel his cock twitching at the thought.
Why. Why. Why.
Behind him, he can hear Jeongguk’s movements becoming more and more feverish.
“Jeongguk… Try to relax, please. Think of someone you like,” he whispers to the
younger boy.
Jeongguk doesn’t respond, but his movements become more rhythmic and sound less
desperate. Seokjin hears him breathe a sigh of contentment.
Seokjin snaps the cap back on the bottle and palms his flaccid dick, thinking
of someone who is definitely not Jeongguk. He tries to keep quiet as he feels
the blood rushing south. With shaky shoulders, he slides his middle finger
inside. His breath catches and he thrusts his hips back down involuntarily.
Brushing against his prostate, he can feel himself relaxing into his own
familiar touch. By now he’s completely hard and he can feel sweat forming on
his brow.
When he slides a second finger in to stretch himself out further, he can’t stop
the loud gasp from escaping.
“Ah!”
“Hyung?”
Jeongguk’s voice is meek and breaks Seokjin’s heart. Seokjin pauses his
movements.
“Yes, Jeongguk?”
“Ah, I’m ready – are you?”
Seokjin shifts a little on his knees. Before nodding and whispering:
“Yeah, I am.”
“Okay.”
Seokjin hears Jeongguk shuffling around on the mattress behind him. When he
sounds like he’s settled, Seokjin asks:
“Can you close your eyes for me Jeongguk? Pretend I’m someone else if you want
to. Have to.”
When Seokjin finally turns to face Jeongguk, his eyes are shut and his
shoulders are tight, his fists are clenched in the blanket underneath him.
Seokjin grabs the bottle and squeezes out another dollop to slick Jeongguk’s
cock up a bit more. Jeongguk gasps and cries out at the contact, but keeps his
eyes shut tightly. Hastily, Seokjin apologises for startling him.
“I need to do this so I don’t get hurt,” he explains.
“Okay, it’s okay,” says Jeongguk with a frantic nod.
Slowly, Seokjin crawls up to hover over Jeongguk’s lap. He exhales as he sinks
down onto Jeongguk’s hard length, mouth falling open and tears springing in his
eyes. He feels a lot bigger than he looks. Probably because it’s his first
time. He rolls his hips until he’s comfortable, taking his time to wait for the
ache to ease. He stills, taking a moment to relax as best he can. It’s
difficult, amazing and wrong all at the same time. Seokjin pants as he
experimentally lifts his hips and drops them. Jeongguk’s reaction is
instantaneous, chest jerking forward with a sharp intake of air.
Covering Jeongguk’s eyes feels right to Seokjin. He shouldn’t have to see this,
even though his eyes are already closed. Seokjin’s breath hitches as Jeongguk
shifts under him, a heavy hand sliding up to settle on his waist.
“Seokjin hyung…” he breathes.
Seokjin shushes him gently, brushing his hair back with his free hand.
On impulse, he kisses Jeongguk.
He kisses him hard, as if the kiss would be enough to knock him out. It’s
passionate and Seokjin doesn’t understand why he does it. His tongue laps
against Jeongguk’s, while his free hand cups the back of Jeongguk’s neck. It
stuns Jeongguk, to the point that he goes somewhat limp in Seokjin’s arms. His
hands come up to settle on Seokjin’s broad shoulders. When Seokjin breaks away,
he inhales sharply.
“Sorry,” apologises Seokjin quietly.
“It- It’s okay,” stammers Jeongguk.
“I kind of liked that. I’d never been kissed before.”
Seokjin can feel his eyelashes fluttering against the palm of his hand. And he
can feel his heart shattering against his ribs.
“Do you want hyung to turn around?” His voice is still hushed, while Jeongguk’s
breathing is laboured.
Jeongguk nods, a tad fast. It hurts Seokjin, but he ignores the feeling. When
Seokjin removes his hand, Jeongguk’s eyes are still closed. Seokjin winces as
Jeongguk slides out of him. He can’t stop the whimper that escapes his lips as
he settles back down on Jeongguk’s cock, hot and hard inside of him.
Involuntarily, he arches his back. The guilt and shame toiling in his chest
comes to settle in his stomach and Seokjin wants to cry again. He’s not allowed
to feel good like this, not while his youngest is so close to tears. He starts
bouncing in Jeongguk’s lap - it’s just about getting it over with now. With
each movement, Jeongguk rubs against his prostate making him writhe and bite
his lip to stop himself from moaning. He’s settled into a rhythm when Jeongguk
sits up and places his large hands on Seokjin’s waist.
“I’m sorry, Seokjin-hyung,” Jeongguk breathes against the nape of Seokjin’s
neck.
With a gentle squeeze of Seokjin’s waist, he presses a chaste kiss to the pale
skin of his neck. Seokjin chokes back a sob at that, reaching down to cover one
of Jeongguk’s hands on his waist with his own. With each rock downwards, he
lets out a small sigh.
“It’s okay, Gukkie, it’s all right.”
And it is okay. And it is all right. Jeongguk trusts him and he’s not hurting.
Seokjin isn’t hurting either. Not physically, at least.
He slides a hand down to curl around his still-hard cock, flicking his wrist in
a way that’s familiar and just right to bring him to completion. He’s getting
closer with each movement, guided by Jeongguk’s hands on his waist, pushing and
pulling him until he comes undone in Jeongguk’s lap. He tries to speed up his
motions.
“I’m close,” he stammers out, voice shaky.
“Same,” answers Jeongguk, tightening his grip on Seokjin’s waist.
With a loud gasp, Seokjin spills into his hand. He freezes up, clenching around
Jeongguk’s cock. He stains his hands white, and he feels like the inside of his
diaphragm is coated with the red from his bleeding heart. Why them?
Jeongguk follows after, barely able to make a noise. His moan is choked,
strangled. His grip on Seokjin’s waist turns bruising and Seokjin moans at the
harsh treatment.
He slumps back on the mattress, running a warm hand down Seokjin’s back.
Seokjin glances over his shoulder to look at Jeongguk. With a half-smile, he
pulls himself off the younger male, cringing as Jeongguk’s still-hard length
slips out.
He ties off the condom and throws it into the small bin under the table.
Stumbling back, Seokjin collapses beside Jeongguk on the mattress. He tries to
stop Jeongguk from pulling his shorts up for him, but the younger waves him
off.
It’s over at least. They’re both one step closer to getting the antidote.
Jeongguk rests his head in Seokjin’s embrace as Seokjin hums softly for him – a
lullaby. Jeongguk blinks back the tears that threaten to spill again. This is
his hyung, the one who cared for him when he couldn’t see his parents, the one
who cooked for him and nursed him when he was sick. On impulse, he presses as
kiss to Seokjin’s lips. He licks into Seokjin’s mouth and he feels him freezing
against his lips.
Jeongguk doesn’t know why he does it, but it feels right.
“Thank you, hyung,” he whispers under his breath as he buries his face against
Seokjin’s neck.
They lay together, tangled in a pained embrace. Seokjin’s pulse is still a lot
faster than it should be.
When they’ve both calmed down. Seokjin glances at the clock.
18:02
The hatch opens and a tray with two towels and a bar of dirty pink soap is
pushed into the room.
Jeongguk glances at the new delivery.
“You go first, hyung,” he whispers.
Seokjin nods.
“Thank you, Jeonggukkie.”
He’s grateful to go first, though the shower provides no privacy. The water is
warm, and dirty soap is better than no soap, he figures. With shaky limbs, he
steps under the stream, fighting the urge to scrub his skin raw. He’d showered
with Jeongguk before, but this is different. It’s a world of difference.
At least the water’s warm.
“Hyung?” Jeongguk calls from his spot on the mattress.
“Yeah?”
“You’re not mad at me are you?”
Seokjin’s eyes widen at that. He doesn’t answer, instead shutting off the water
and drying himself off.
“Hyung?” Jeongguk tries again.
Seokjin pulls his shorts back on, slinging the towel around his neck.
“Why would I be, Gukkie?” he asks, sitting beside Jeongguk.
Jeongguk goes silent, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.
“I dunno… I was rough and stuff… and I kissed you without permission…”
Jeongguk’s cheeks are pink (whether it’s from strain or from embarrassment,
Seokjin cannot tell) and his voice is soft.
“Jeonggukkie. It’s okay,” Seokjin smiles, grabbing Jeongguk’s hand.
“You’re young, so I can’t hold anything against you. It was your first time
doing anything like that as well.”
Seokjin pauses, before pressing a kiss to Jeongguk’s forehead.
“Anything you feel you’ve done wrong – and you haven’t done anything wrong, is
automatically forgiven. Got it?”
Jeongguk worries his lower lips between his teeth. He squeezes Seokjin’s hand.
“Got it.”
“Go shower now… if your cell is the same as mine… we gotta wash up here.”
Jeongguk nods obediently, grabbing his towel and the soap. As Jeongguk washes
himself, Seokjin stares up at the ceiling. His face is solemn and he wrings his
hands in the blanket.
He’s still fighting the urge to cry. Under a porcelain ribcage, he feels like
his heart is being held in a vice grip. He breathes shakily and glances at
Jeongguk. He’s standing very still under the stream of (perhaps mercifully)
warm water.
His gaze doesn’t linger and soon he finds himself dozing off. He’s only half-
awake when Jeongguk joins him under the blanket, warm cheek pressed against his
back.
It’s over.
Later, Seokjin and Jeongguk wake to the sound of groaning metal. The door
swings open and a distorted voice rings out in the room.
“Subject-number-oh-one, return to cell-number-oh-one.”
Seokjin glances at Jeongguk. He’s trembling again. His eyes flicking about,
panicked.
“It’s gonna be all right,” whispers Seokjin, cupping Jeongguk’s face.
He hugs Jeongguk tightly, before getting up and walking stiffly into the dark
hallway. He glances over his shoulder with a wry smile before the door swings
shut behind him. Alone in the room, Jeongguk sniffles and rubs his nose.
“Subject-number-oh-seven, return to cell-number-oh-seven.”
Jeongguk clambers to his feet, limping towards the heavy steel door that opens
as he approaches it. His ankle still hurts, though he feels better. Somehow.
He just needs to endure this.
Chapter End Notes
     So that's pairing numero uno for this fic. Jinkook is one of my
     biggest weaknesses - but then again i just go all _(:3J over most
     pairings with younger tops. hah. I did not proof read this part as
     well as i could have so if something is glaringly wrong pls lemme
     know.
***** Day 02 *****
Chapter Summary
     Day 02 of 21
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It had already been twenty-one hours, and Yoongi had flat out refused to
acknowledge the issue at hand.
At first, he screamed and pounded his fists on the door. He had outright
demanded that he be let out. This had lasted for more than an hour. Namjoon
admired his tenacity, nestled comfortably (or rather, as comfortably as he
possibly could be in this situation) on the single mattress in the far corner
of the room. When Yoongi felt he was done with his screaming, he collapsed on
the narrow bed beside Namjoon. He rubbed furiously at his eyes, telling Namjoon
to shut up and that he wasn’t crying.
Namjoon hadn’t said anything.
Somehow, Yoongi had fallen into a rather fitful sleep, and Namjoon had
followed, only to wake him when a tray of food was shoved through the hatch in
the door. When Yoongi swallowed the suppressant pill, he seemed to have
swallowed his tears as well. Soon after that, he had simply gone back to sleep,
leaving Namjoon simply sit at the edge of the bed.
As the hours crawled on, Namjoon alternated between pacing through the room and
sitting at the edge of the bed with his fingers laced together.
However now there’s less than three hours on the clock.
The panic is beginning to set in.
Namjoon remembers that there are lube and condoms in the drawer in the table.
He slowly gets to his feet and pads over to the table. His knees feel like
jelly as he peers into the drawer. He shudders. Right.
Swallowing, he thinks back to yesterday. He had felt things he didn’t want to
feel. Watching Jeongguk and Seokjin hyung had been painful. The guilt was the
worst part of it all.
He glances over at Yoongi.
Yoongi is curled up on the mattress, facing away from Namjoon. He’s snoring
softly and his shackled ankle is sticking out from under the blanket. He looks
so peaceful and Namjoon feels envious for a moment.
How could someone possibly sleep at a time like this?
He reopens the drawer, after much debate. Staring at the contents, he wonders
how the hell he’s supposed to bring this up with Yoongi refusing to even look
at him.
With shaky hands he pulls out the bottle he assumes Jeongguk and Seokjin hyung
had used, along with a single foil package.
He glances at the clock.
22:17
If they don’t complete their assigned task, they would all die. Jeongguk and
Seokjin hyung’s efforts would have been for nothing. It would be his and
Yoongi’s fault.
Though somehow, Namjoon can’t find it in his heart to blame Yoongi. Despite his
tough appearance, he had a soft and gentle heart. Something Namjoon had only
seen on rare occasions. Usually after a bottle or three of soju back at the
dorm on a free night. Yoongi would tell him how much he appreciated him and the
other members. How he liked Seokjin’s cooking and loved their youngest members
like they were his blood-related brothers.
Namjoon has to be strong for Yoongi. Now more than ever.
He stares at the bottle and tiny package in his hands. He places them on the
table and stares at the wall, leaning forward on his hands. Namjoon looks over
his shoulder at Yoongi. He’s rolled onto his side to face Namjoon again. Under
the harsh artificial light of this windowless room, his skin looks so white.
It’s near translucent. His small mouth is drawn into a tight line.
He’s not sleeping well, Namjoon realises.
The fact that he’s sleeping doesn’t mean he’s oblivious to the situation
they’re in. Namjoon rubs his temples.
Reluctantly, he sits down on the bed. With a gentle hand, he rouses Yoongi.
“Hyung,” he whispers, “Yoongi hyung.”
Yoongi cracks a single eye open. Namjoon bites his lip.
“Namjoon?”
He sits up, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes. Namjoon feels guilty for
waking him for this of all things.
But they’re running out of time.
Namjoon simply nods, wordlessly. He can’t find it in himself to say it out
loud. Yoongi sighs. He shuffles about on the mattress, until he’s sitting
cross-legged beside Namjoon. He runs a hand through his messy hair out of
habit. He looks Namjoon in the eye for the briefest moment before averting his
gaze.
It’s an awkward silence. It weighs heavy in the air as Yoongi and Namjoon stare
at the floor from their spot on the mattress. Namjoon hesitates, before
grabbing his hyung’s hand. It’s a small gesture but Yoongi freezes up all the
same.
“What are our options?” Yoongi finally asks in a low voice.
Namjoon shakes his head. It hurts.
“There are no options. We can only do… what they asked. Demanded. Ordered.”
Yoongi swallows thickly. The memory of the message projected on his cell wall,
of the distorted voice ringing out, of Seokjin hyung and Jeongguk. It makes him
sick.
“How are we going to do this?” his voice is quieter still.
Namjoon inhales deeply through his nose before letting out a sigh. He bites his
lip, choosing his words carefully.
“There are pros and cons to all… positions,” he says the last word bitterly.
Yoongi resists the urge to laugh, but can’t stop the wry smile that passes over
his face for a split second.
Positions, huh?
In any other situation he would have refused to listen at all. But this is
Namjoon: his brother and partner in crime. The one who stuck with him through
thick and thin. The one he’s losing his virginity to.
Hesitantly, he nods.
“Go on?”
“If we did it like… Seokjin hyung and Jeongguk,” Namjoon starts.
“It would be more painful and strenuous, emotionally and physically for the
person… bottoming.”
Trust Namjoon to be logical and pragmatic. Yoongi nods in agreement. It
wouldn’t be fair to do it like that, for either of them. Seokjin made a
sacrifice, in a way, for Jeongguk. And in a fucked up way, it was worthy of
praise. Saving their youngest from trauma like that.
“And I don’t know about you,” he continues, “but I wouldn’t want to, be able
to, look at your face.”
“Yeah…”
Namjoon’s voice drops to a whisper.
“So that leaves… one of us on all fours.”
His expression is pained and Yoongi can feel his nervousness building in his
chest again. How degrading. Like an animal.
“That sounds… kind of demeaning,” Yoongi’s voice is soft and he glances at
Namjoon.
Namjoon’s brows are furrowed and his free hand is clenched in a fist. His
knuckles are white and his veins bulge under the pressure. His jaw is tight and
his shoulders are hunched. Namjoon meets his gaze.
“Can we really call anything demeaning in this situation?” he asks with a
bitter smile.
Somehow, Yoongi can find it in himself to chuckle. It’s probably the stress.
“Fair point.”
Namjoon looks at the clock above the steel door.
22:46
The glaring red is somehow taunting him. A countdown to death. That is, unless
they start making tough decisions.
“We need to… decide soon, hyung.”
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut.
Why? Why? Why?
“What are the pros and cons to the other aspect?” he asks, painfully slowly.
Namjoon seems taken aback. His mouth opens and closes like a fish.
“I figured you would just… top?”
“I want to make a fair decision together, Namjoon.”
They’re both silent for what feels like an eternity, but is really less than a
minute. Namjoon squeezes Yoongi’s hand in an attempt to be comforting. Yoongi
stops breathing.
For a second.
“If you’re on top,” Namjoon’s voice is shaky and his shoulders tremble, “it
doesn’t hurt, but you have to look and you’re in an active role.”
Yoongi doesn’t respond.
“But if you bottom, it may hurt a little or a lot. But you don’t have to look
and you can just… lie there.”
His voice grows soft at the last part.
“I don’t care which you pick, hyung. I- I know you’re hurting now. Earlier
today – I saw. I don’t want you to suffer – this situation is really tough and
I – please don’t push yourself – okay?”
Namjoon’s words tumble from his lips with no finesse. The difference in
eloquence from his normal composed self and the way he is now is staggering and
Yoongi feels guilty. Namjoon rubs his hand over his face, wiping absent tears
away.
His younger brother, his leader. He was hurting too and Yoongi had ignored him.
He had shut himself off instead of talking to Namjoon. Instead of comforting
him, he had caused him more pain.
Yoongi knows, he’s not like Seokjin. It’s not in his nature to take care of
people and fuss over them. He’s not motherly, hell – he’s not that
affectionate, period.
But he is Min Yoongi and he has his pride.
He knows he would never forgive himself if he caused Namjoon even more pain.
“… nd option.”
Yoongi’s voice is so soft and he hates it. He sounds weak. He feels weak.
“Hyung?”
“I’ll take the second option.”
Namjoon’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open for a brief moment.
“Oh… Okay…” is all he can manage.
Somehow, the two of them raise their heads to look one another in the eye.
Yoongi’s eyes are shining with unshed tears. Namjoon’s eyes are devoid of any
light.
“Do you want me to… doanything for you?” Namjoon asks.
Yoongi pauses to think for a moment, eyes downcast.
“No need to make this any more complicated than it already is. Just… do it.”
Namjoon’s eyes widen.
“Hyung, are you sure? It’ll hurt a lot –“
“Namjoon. No. It’s already hard enough and I – I can take the pain.”
Yoongi’s brows are furrowed and he looks determined. His cheeks are scarlet and
he’s so close to tears, but he just won’t break. He won’t give anyone the
satisfaction of him breaking – least of all these people, no – monsters,
keeping them here.
It takes a while for either of them to move. Namjoon grabs the hem of his shirt
to pull it off, when Yoongi stops him.
“Let’s… not. You don’t have to. It’s unnecessary.”
His eyes are watering and Namjoon understands. With shaky hands, Namjoon lowers
his shorts, going as far as to fold them up neatly. Yoongi on the other hand
simply splays himself out on his stomach, sliding a hand into his shorts.
Namjoon tries his best not to look – he understands. Might as well try to make
things a bit more enjoyable.
He tries to think about people who aren’t Yoongi, as he pulls at his own dick.
Squeezing and pulling, this is familiar. In his mind, he’s back at the dorm in
his room with the door locked. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long for him to get
hard and he manages to roll the condom on with shaky fingers.
Yoongi has himself propped up on all fours, shorts tangled around his knees and
cock in his hand. He’s breathing heavily and Namjoon really wishes it wasn’t
Yoongi. But it is and he doesn’t want to die.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon whispers, “You need at least a bit of… slick.”
Saying lube would make it more real than it has to be and Namjoon can’t bring
himself to say it.
Yoongi nods.
“Okay,” he answers, breathlessly.
With trembling hands, Namjoon pours a bit of lube on Yoongi’s twitching hole.
He’s not disgusted, he’s just nervous. Yoongi lets out an involuntary noise at
the cold sensation and he jumps slightly. When he’s settled down, Namjoon grabs
his hips with one hand. He can hear Yoongi fighting back sobs with hiccups and
coughs.
It breaks Namjoon’s heart, really. To see his hyung like this. So close to
tears over something outside his control.
“Hurry up, Namjoon,” Yoongi mutters.
Namjoon nods and presses his hips forward, mouth falling open as he slides into
Yoongi’s tight heat. His shoulders shake at the hot sensation, his hands
involuntarily tightening on Yoongi’s hips. He has to stop himself from making a
sound. Yoongi bites his lips, holding back his moans. He whispers something
under his breath and Namjoon barely catches it. But it sounds suspiciously
similar to:
“This isn’t real.”
When Namjoon’s completely sheathed, Yoongi’s arms give out and he rubs his face
into the bare mattress. He’s chanting in pained whispers – as if he’s praying.
His shoulders twist and writhe before he relaxes and raises himself up on his
elbows again.
“I’ll move now,” Namjoon’s voice is hushed, as if he doesn’t want Yoongi to
know he’s still there.
But he very much is and that’s the problem.
Namjoon thrusts shallowly. His grip on Yoongi’s hips is gentle and almost
encouraging. He doesn’t want to hurt Yoongi, but it’s inevitable. With each
pull back, Yoongi lets out an agitated hiss.
It feels so good and Namjoon doesn’t know what to do with the sinking sensation
of guilt in his stomach. He wants to cry, but he has to keep it together now.
No backing out now.
“Faster,” Yoongi mumbles in a pained voice.
“Eh?” Yoongi’s words barely register at this point.
“Namjoon, I told you to hurry up,” Yoongi growls, clenching his fists in the
blanket.
His face is contorted into a grimace as he glares at Namjoon over his shoulder.
Namjoon’s heart feels like lead in his chest.
He picks up his pace, thrusting his hips quicker. His grip on Yoongi’s waist
tightens. Yoongi responds by dragging his blunt nails over the mattress and
gasping. He goes back to rubbing his face into the mattress like a pained dog
and Namjoon’s heart grows heavier by the minute.
Yoongi doesn’t want to acknowledge it, but with each pull, the pain dulls and a
spark shoots up his spine. Namjoon thrusts harder still and the conflict of
what Yoongi wants and what his body wants escalates.
Slowly, Yoongi lets his moans escape him, tears welling up in his eyes.
It feels good.
That admission pushes his mind close to breaking and the tears spill and begin
to fall like rain. One question continuously rings out through his head,
echoing off the hard walls of his skull and distorting.
Why me?
“Harder,” he manages to gasp out.
Namjoon nods, even though Yoongi can’t see him and obediently pulls Yoongi
harder. The sound of skin on skin resonates in the small room and Yoongi’s
growing moans make Namjoon shudder.
Yoongi furiously jerks his own cock, wanting it to end as soon as possible. How
can this feel good? Why? He’s so close to coming and Namjoon’s thrusts are
unrelenting.
He gives up.
With that, Yoongi moans loudly, the ache of having someone inside him feels
better than it should. He moans into the blanket under him, rubbing his cock in
hopes that he’ll come soon and Namjoon will follow and everything will be over.
“Fuck,” Namjoon whispers.
“I’m close,” whines Yoongi, voice desperate.
After a few more sharp thrusts from Namjoon, Yoongi comes apart and comes over
the inside of the loose tank top. His voice is choked and he shakes under
Namjoon. With Yoongi clenching and unclenching around him, Namjoon comes. His
breath is hitched and his fingers dig into Yoongi’s hips. His nails leave
crescents that remain even when his hands come away from Yoongi’s skin.
He collapses over Yoongi’s back and pulls out gingerly. Yoongi cries out at the
loss of contact but falls back to the mattress weakly. Namjoon ties the condom
off and waddles over to the table, throwing the rubber into the rubbish bin
under the table. Yoongi pulls him back down to the mattress once he’s close
enough.
Yoongi glances at his cum-stained tank top and then at the clock.
23:49
He doesn’t even have time to wash himself off. Fuck.
So he laughs. His ass hurts, there’s cum on his shirt, his shorts are stuck
around his knees and Namjoon is looking at him like he’s crazy. Slowly he
begins to laugh along with Yoongi.
And slowly, their laughs turn to sobs. Yoongi buries his face in Namjoon’s neck
and he lets the sobs rack his body.
Why?
Neither of them shed tears. Just dry, pained sobs into each other’s embrace.
When the distorted voice rings out:
“Subject-number-oh-two, return to cell-number-oh-two.”
Yoongi doesn’t resist. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t need to say anything to
Namjoon. He simply pulls his shorts up and limps out the door.
Namjoon understands, as the door swings shut and he waits in the heavy silence
of the room where he lost his virginity to his brother.
“Subject-number-oh-four, return to cell-number-oh-four.”
He welcomes the darkness of the hallway.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Yet another pair with a younger top. Hah. There's a theme here
     somewhere...
     Virgin Yoongi gives me so many feels and just. Ugh.
     Shout out to Rhee for pushing me to write this chapter.
***** Day 03. *****
Chapter Summary
     Day 03 of 21
Chapter Notes
     guess who's back
     back again
     kijang's back
     tell a friend
See the end of the chapter for more notes
They don’t say anything, when they meet in room no. 08.
Instead, they simply hug. Jeongguk can barely hold Hoseok up. It’s not like
Seokjin’s embrace, Jeongguk notes. Instead of being supported, he has to help
Hoseok cling onto him. Though it doesn’t really matter: Jeongguk’s ankle has
healed enough for him to walk and stand comfortably.
Minutes pass as they embrace. Neither Hoseok nor Jeongguk says a word.
Though given the situation, it’s not that weird.
“Are you okay, Hoseok hyung?” Jeongguk’s voice echoes in the bare room, but
only barely.
He suppresses a shudder.
“Mm,” Hoseok remains silent, but nods.
Jeongguk bites his lip.
“Oh… kay?” his response is cautious.
He guides Hoseok to the bed, as he doesn’t seem to be responding properly to
anything. He settles down on the bed, pulling Hoseok down to lie next to him.
Hoseok feels almost like a wax figurine. He’s pliant in Jeongguk’s comforting
arms, but at the same time, he is stiff and cumbersome in his movements. It’s
somehow sickening.
They fall asleep like that, nestled together in this desolate cell.
Jeongguk stirs when food is shoved through the hatch. He feels drained despite
having slept more than he normally does. His body is sluggish and his eyes feel
heavy. With an equally heavy heart, he rouses Hoseok to eat with him.
Their meal is shared in silence, though the sounds of chewing are amplified in
the barren space. It seeps into Jeongguk’s eardrums and he can barely hear his
voice in his head screaming why why why why.
After their meal, they sit back down on the mattress.
The clock reads 9:33 by the time Jeongguk looks at it again.
He doesn’t know what to say to his hyung, who simply stares ahead blankly.
Hoseok doesn’t meet Jeongguk gaze when the younger shifts to face him. His
palms are clammy on the thread bare mattress. He waits, listening to the lub-
dub of his heart in his throat. Time passes and his palms sweat.
“Are you okay, Hoseok hyung?” Jeongguk rests a hand on Hoseok’s.
Hoseok nods. Jeongguk wonders if his question even registers. It’s like talking
to a doll. It doesn’t feel real and it’s hard to figure out how the cogs in
Hoseok’s head are turning.
His expression is still blank. His eyes are still cold. Jeongguk shivers.
“Do you…” Jeongguk starts.
“Do you want to get this over with?”
Hoseok glances at Jeongguk. His arms are folded neatly around his knees.
Finally, he speaks:
“I do.”
Jeongguk suppresses the sigh of relief that bubbles up in his throat. Hoseok
bites his lip and his eyebrows crease. It’s the first time today he’s
noticeably emoted at all, Jeongguk notes.
Glance at the clock. 9:44.
They have plenty of time, so Jeongguk isn’t afraid of ending up in the same
situation as Yoongi and Namjoon. But after the first hurdle is passed, the will
to survive becomes stronger. It’s up to Hoseok to move past it.
Jeongguk is gentle, he holds Hoseok’s hand and runs a thumb over his knuckles.
“May I kiss you?” his voice is barely above a whisper.
The left corner of Hoseok’s mouth twitches up in a shadow of a smile.
Terrified.  His eyes remain cold, yet he nods.
Jeongguk isn’t sure what compels him to do this. Perhaps it’s a comfort thing,
as Seokjin kissing him was comforting in a way. He cups Hoseok’s face with his
free hand, fingertips brushing against his fringe. He presses his lips to
Hoseok’s, closemouthed and sweet. After another few chaste pecks, Jeongguk
feels brave enough to run his tongue along the seam of Hoseok’s mouth.
At this Hoseok finally reacts. He curls a hand around Jeongguk’s neck to pull
him closer, only to pull back a second later.
“The… stuff…” he whispers.
His voice is so soft, and Jeongguk wonders if the microphones can pick up on it
at all. Though, he wouldn’t be surprised if they could.
Jeongguk clambers to his feet to grab a condom and a bottle from the drawer.
When he turns back to Hoseok, his eyes are trained on the floor at Jeongguk’s
feet. He kneels beside his hyung, letting the older boy pull him down for
another kiss.
It’s hot and wet and nails run down Jeongguk’s biceps. The marks are red and
sting. But it’s okay.
Because it is a comfort thing, Jeongguk realises.
“Do you feel better like this? When I…” Jeongguk asks quietly.
Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut and nods frantically. On his dark lashes,
Jeongguk can see a glimmer of tears.
Jeongguk chuckles, despite himself.
“I’m sorry I’m not very good at it then,” he says it lightly, but his heart
weighs heavy in his chest.
Hoseok doesn’t respond. Instead he desperately kisses Jeongguk, fingers
clenching and unclenching in Jeongguk’s shirt.
“We need to… You need to…” Jeongguk tries, as soon Hoseok pulls away.
“Do you want to choose?” He manages finally.
Hoseok shakes his head.
"I can't... I don't..." his voice is so shaky and Jeongguk nearly forgets that
Hoseok is his hyung.
"I can't decide."
Jeongguk mulls over his response. He chews his lower lip as he hovers over
Hoseok, who's turned his head to look away from Jeongguk. He remembers what
Namjoon had said the night before, about the pros and cons. He takes a deep
breath, trying to calm his hummingbird heart.
"Would you... mind if I ...?" he can't bring himself to say it.
Hoseok has turned back to face him with an apologetic look.
"I wouldn't, Jeonggukkie."
Jeongguk bows his head. As if thanking Hoseok. This is the first time Hoseok
has said his name today. It tastes of resignation and trust.
"Okay."
He pushes the bottle of lubricant into Hoseok’s hand, palms sweating. Hoseok
sits up and gets to his knees, Jeongguk looks away as he lowers his shorts.
It’s a bit easier than with Seokjin, he notes. With Seokjin he was hopelessly
nervous and still in shock from everything happening. He almost scares himself
with how he’s handling everything. But, he supposes, he must be strong for
Hoseok.
Taking another deep breath to calm himself, Jeongguk pulls his shorts down to
palm his flaccid cock. As he works his hand up and down his dick, he pictures
someone who isn’t Hoseok. It doesn’t take long for his member to harden, not
after having kissed Hoseok like that earlier. This is so wrong, so wrong.
Why are they doing this?
“Jeongguk?” Hoseok’s voice pulls him back out of his reverie.
He grunts none too gracefully and turns to see Hoseok splayed out on his back.
 He’s covering his eyes with his forearm and his knees quiver slightly. His
shirt is off and his wide shoulders look so paradoxically weak.
Where did his older brother go?
Then Jeongguk’s gaze wonders down, between Hoseok’s legs. His dick is half-hard
and two of his fingers are sliding inside his body in forceful strokes.
“I… Can we just… start…?”
Jeongguk breathes deeply for a moment and nods. His hands are shaking as he
kneels between Hoseok’s thighs. He reaches down to kiss Hoseok and nuzzle his
cheek. A wordless apology.
Hoseok draws his hand out from between his legs to rest on his stomach, just
above his cock. With a less than graceful motion, Jeongguk slides into him.
Hoseok cries out. Jeongguk is big, bigger than he seemed at first glance and
Hoseok is full. His back arches like a cat and his body can’t seem to decide
whether he wants to draw Jeongguk in deeper or push him away altogether.
“S-sorry.”
Jeongguk swallows as he studies Hoseok’s face. His brows are furrowed together
in extertion. A few beads of sweat have pearled on his forehead. He’s nervous.
But he forces himself to relax.
In an attempt to comfort him, Jeongguk leans down and kisses him. Hot and
messy. He tries to be gentle but the tight heat around his cock makes it
exceedingly difficult. His hormone addled body is screaming at him to move, to
do something but he has to pause and give Hoseok a moment to prepare.
“Please –” Hoseok can’t even finish his sentences before Jeongguk begins to
move his hips.
He’s not enthusiastic as much as he is more confident than before. The nerves
he had with Seokjin have dissipated for the most part and he tries to silence
the voice in his head with Hoseok’s moans with each push of his hips.
His hip bones collide with the backs of Hoseok’s thighs and Jeongguk can barely
notice the tears sliding down his cheeks as his heard and head are torn between
the pleasure his body feels and the pain of Hoseok just wanting this to be over
with.
It doesn’t hurt, not really. Hoseok thinks. The moans are involuntary and he
wants to come so he conjures up images in his head of what he wishes this was.
That it wasn’t him having sex with Jeongguk, but someone else. Occasionally
Jeongguk angles a thrust that makes his moan hitch in his throat and he feels
closer to coming.
He twists his head away when Jeongguk’s kisses become too much for his heart to
handle.
Jeongguk’s thrusts become even more desperate in response and he fucks into
Hoseok even harder.
Rhythmic, but out of sync with his head. Like nothing is registering properly.
Hoseok’s face feels hot and sticky, cheek pressed into the bare mattress. His
breath dampens the patch his face is pressed against, but he can’t find the
strength to move. Jeongguk’s thrusts are unrelenting. And he’s sure that the
iron grip from Jeongguk’s hands on his hips will come away with purple bruises.
His breath comes out as stuttered as the twitching of his hands in the sheets
of the small bed. His knuckles whiten and his face scrunches up. He cries out
then cums messily over his stomach. His stomach clenches up and he seizes
around Jeongguk. It hurts.
His jaw drops as he wants to scream because holy shit he’s hurting and Jeongguk
isn’t done so he has to keep going. He’s forced open despite all protests from
his body. His legs wrap around Jeongguk’s waist and small sobs are ripped from
this throat.
Why does this hurt so much?
Finally, Jeongguk’s motions stutter for a moment, and he pitches forward. His
forehead comes to rest on the damp skin of Hoseok’s chest.
Oh god. Oh god.
Jeongguk finally breaks and the mask falls from Hoseok’s face.
With Jeongguk still inside him, Hoseok wraps his arms around his brother.
They cry together in their afterglow.
When the clock reads 12:00, they come apart and take turns in the shower.
Huddled on the mattress, they fall asleep once more. When they wake again, they
talk in hushed tones about the “experiment.” Of course, neither of them know
any more than the other. So they simply fall back into silence. Until –
“Hyung?”
“Yes, Gukkie?”
“Did I hurt you?”
Hoseok grimaces and glances at the clock.
23:55.
“You didn’t hurt me, but it did hurt.”
Before Jeongguk can respond, the metallic voice rings out.
“Subject-number-oh-three, return to cell-number-oh-three.”
Hoseok gets to his feet and leaves the room.
Jeongguk ponders what Hoseok said.
"Subject-number-oh-seven, return to cell-number-oh-seven.”
Chapter End Notes
     LITERALLY THE MOST DIFFICULT PAIRING TO WRITE EVER.
     That's why I'm literally two years late on updating lmao. kill me.
     The remaining 18 pairings won't nearly be as difficult as this one,
     so I guess they could be churned out pretty quickly. I'd like to hear
     your predictions for next pairings and such, maybe you guys could
     vote on who goes next? so feel free to leave comments or something
     let me know if there are glaring mistakes
End Notes
     Inspired by the EXO fandom's 72 Hours AU, which was started by LJ
     user carvone.
     I'll add the pairings as they appear in the fic! Lots of chapters
     will contain dub-con.
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