Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12232512.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jungkook/Park_Jimin
  Character:
      Jeon_Jungkook, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Taehyung
      |_V, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope
  Additional Tags:
      Brief_Park_Jimin/Kim_Namjoon, Underage_sexual_curiosity, Dubious_Consent,
      Somnophilia, Obsessive_Behavior, Possessive_Behavior, Pining, thigh
      riding, Dirty_Talk, Bad_Boy_Jungkook, Tattoos, Motorcycles, Teasing,
      Sexual_Tension, Punishment, Humiliation, brief_voyeurism, Stalking, Hand
      Jobs, underage_sexual_acts, which_the_adult_does_not_reciprocate
      whatsoever, unhealthy_relationship_dynamic, Emotional_Manipulation
  Collections:
      Centre_Stage:_A_Park_Jimin_Birthday_Exchange
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-13 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 37043
****** Appetite For Stars ******
by snarcsics
Summary
     Jeongguk has a thing for his step-father
Notes
     Dear recipient, this had originally been just one chapter, but I
     thought it would be better with two! I really, really enjoyed this
     prompt. It was so much fun!! I hope that you will like it! I did
     change some things in the prompt due to what occurs in chapter one,
     which I hope you won't mind! (;w; )
     Prompt - Single kindergarten teacher Jimin's life turns tumultuous
     when he falls in love with his ex's punkrock/badboy son from a
     previous marriage (aka Jungkook). Jungkook is all kinds of cool and
     suave and dangerous, and Jimin admires him from afar whenever he
     comes to pick up his little brother.

     Note: Everyone, please make sure you read the tags carefully. Please,
     I am warning you now. You do have a choice of backing out of this
     story. You can ignore it and read something you would like better.
     You do not have to read it at all, but if you do and you choose to
     continue, please, please, read the tags. There is sexual content, and
     although the adult does not reciprocate in any way whatsoever, it can
     be uncomfortable for most. This is a fictional story and it should be
     obvious that this type of behaviour in real life is unacceptable.
     Thank you.
     Enjoy!!
***** Chapter 1 *****
 
Jeongguk’s new step-father is a whore.
Or according to his mother, the homewrecking little slut that lived on his
knees. She wouldn’t dare say this with Jeongguk in the room, but the boy has
taken to eavesdropping around corners recently. He’s curious of what his family
thinks of Jimin. Strangely enough, no one denies that Jimin is a pretty little
thing. Any man would stray for a quick fuck with Jeongguk’s new step-father.
Although Namjoon insists that he’d met Jimin after the divorce, his mother
scoffs at the excuse. She says that her husband was already supposedly seeing
the high school graduate months before Jeongguk’s eleventh birthday. Whenever
their living room becomes a hotbed for gossip between jaded housewives, she
always has a few choice words for Namjoon and Jimin’s new relationship;
immoral, inappropriate, unhealthy and confusing for their twelve-year-old son.
And despite how he has to travel all the way across Seoul to be with his dad
now, Jeongguk can’t bring himself to be mad with Jimin.
Actually, Jeongguk thinks his new step-father is really pretty! Beautiful is a
word he learns later on; to use and abuse whenever he has the opportunity to
see Jimin on every other weekday or weekend. The child is smitten. Which is
more than can be said for his dad.
Young as he is, Jeongguk knows that it isn’t Jimin’s personality that Namjoon
stays for. Though the heat and tension is high, their honeymoon phase doesn’t
step beyond the bedroom door, and Jimin has resigned himself to that. Jeongguk
can say this, because it’s true. He knows Jimin, he’s always there to listen!
If you ask him, there’s no one else in the world that can understand how
amazing his step-father is, not even Namjoon.
“Hi, baby. You’re here early,” Jimin greets him from the front door of the
house, watching Jeongguk amble up to him after his mother had dropped him off.
Jimin frowns at the rear of her car, already speeding away down the road.
“I missed you, hyung,” Jeongguk simply states, wrapping his skinny arms around
Jimin’s waist, hugging him tight.
Jimin laughs softly (bell chimes, Jeongguk gasps), and combs his fingers
through the boy’s hair. “I missed you too! Your dad already left for work. Do
you mind spending the day with me?”
Jeongguk shakes his head vigorously. He prefers it this way. He hates when
Namjoon cuts into his alone time with Jimin. He has Jimin every day while
Jeongguk only gets to see him occasionally! It’s not fair that Jeongguk has to
wait! It’s not fair for Jimin to be kept from him.
“Alright. Got anything in mind for what you wanna do today?” Jimin backs them
up into the house, his warm hands on Jeongguk’s back to leave tingles on his
nape.
The boy hums happily into where his face is pressed to Jimin’s stomach,
nuzzling his cheeks against the light blue button up shirt he has on today.
He’s warm like he’d just gotten out of the bath.
“Wanna spend time with you,” he answers, glancing up with eyes of pure,
unadulterated honesty.
Jimin giggles again, his cheeks glowing pink. “Okay. Well, how ‘bout we start
with breakfast? Did you eat?”
Jeongguk shakes his head, idly playing with the buttons on Jimin’s shirt,
‘accidentally’ popping some loose in seek of bare skin. “Mom had somewhere to
go. Only had an apple.”
Jimin gasps quietly, upset by the news.
Jeongguk wants to kiss his pout away, but he’s not tall enough, so he settles
on the enticing sliver of Jimin’s stomach he has access to. He presses his lips
there, then stares back up to Jimin, asking for approval – hoping he’d
comforted his step-father somewhat.
To his dismay, Jimin retracts from his hold, smiling nervously. Jeongguk
doesn’t understand the problem. He thought he was doing something good. Jimin
says he’s a good boy. Isn’t Jeongguk being a good boy now? Jimin needs his
comfort, doesn’t he?
“Let’s fix you something to eat, yeah?” He takes Jeongguk’s hand and waits for
him to kick his shoes off before he leads them into the living room.
He watches Jimin cook from the couch, his hands automatically switching
channels on the large flat screen television, but his attention is on Jimin.
Gaze scorching up from Jimin’s ass to his neck, Jeongguk stops at the side of
his face, narrowing his eyes at the abundance of bruises on the underside of
his jaw.
Jimin never leaves his dad’s bedroom without little souvenirs of red and purple
painted along his once unblemished neck and chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever
seen Jimin without them. Although Jeongguk wants to resent Namjoon for ruining
something so perfect, he can’t fault him for wanting to corrupt someone like
Jimin. Jeongguk, himself, constantly wants a touch – wants to press his lips to
the marks – see if they’ll fit just as perfectly over Jimin’s soft, peachy
skin, as Namjoon’s kisses do.
He wants to grow fast. He can only imagine how much bigger he would be compared
to Jimin when he’s older – how much stronger he’d be. To possess enough
strength to hold his step-father’s wrists and ankles together. He can only
picture what it would be like to have Jimin’s legs wrapped around him – around
his head, his shoulders, his waist. For now, all he can do is wait. Longingly
staring at Jimin’s back as he dances around the kitchen, his narrow hips
swinging to a silent song.
He’s really pretty, Jeongguk thinks.
So pretty, it’s a shame he’s wasting it on Namjoon. It must be tough, looking
so beautiful but having no one to appreciate it. Namjoon’s never paid Jimin a
compliment. Not in front of Jeongguk, so why would it be any different in
private? The boy is ashamed that his dad would leave Jimin alone for just a
second. Why would he ever let Jimin out of his bed is beyond him, but Jeongguk
is too young to know. All he’s concerned about is how dangerous it is for Jimin
to be left on his own. Anyone could come in, anyone could take advantage of
those pink, pink lips. They could violate his poor step-father. They could hurt
him, take him. They could do all sorts of things! If Jeongguk had a say, Jimin
wouldn’t be left alone by himself. He would stay with him forever.
“Jeonggukie, you’re so quiet,” Jimin comments, silvery voice clear above the
sounds of the television.
Jeongguk perks up instantly. He takes it as a compliment. Being rowdy is for
children. “I’m always quiet.”
Jimin laughs quietly, “I guess that’s true. You’re growing up too fast. Feels
like you grow an inch every day.”
Jeongguk’s chest puffs out in giddy pride. He makes sure to drink milk with
every meal. “I wanna grow up quicker,” he says, hopping off the couch to join
Jimin in the kitchen. He hovers mostly. Never touching. Jimin will appreciate
his distance. He’s warned Jeongguk about being near boiling pots before, and
the boy has listened and learned. Isn’t that good of him?
“Ah… but if you grow up too quick, you won’t be a baby anymore,” Jimin whines,
pouting until Jeongguk’s sure he can catch it between his teeth. The pinkness
of them makes Jeongguk wonder if anything else on his body is just as pink.
“Grow a little slower so I can cuddle you for a few more years.”
“You can do that when I’m older too,” Jeongguk replies, staring unblinkingly at
Jimin’s mouth, his gaze holding enough intensity for Jimin to taste the
beginnings of a teen’s curiosity. “Do you want me to stop?”
Jimin falters, suddenly looking unnerved by the question. Jeongguk can see his
mind grasping at words, any words. He knows Jimin works hard not to upset him.
He’s listened in on the conversations Jimin has with his dad in the solitude of
their bedroom. Jeongguk is just shy and sweet, he usually says. It surprises
Jimin, considering his mother has an exceptionally loud distaste for her former
husband’s ‘mistress’.
All and all, Jimin is just doing his best to please, and Jeongguk likes that he
gets his way.
“I don’t want you to stop, silly,” Jimin coos, ruffling the boy’s hair on his
way to grab a few eggs from the carton, “I just want you to go slower. I feel
like I’ll be losing you to punk rock bands and romance in a few years. Can’t
you just like toy cars for another year or two?”
Jeongguk bristles, his brows creasing. “I’m not four.”
“No. You’re not,” Jimin sighs fondly, brushing Jeongguk’s bangs out of his eyes
as he strolls back to the stove.
The action has Jeongguk’s stomach in a flutter, the heat gradually rising up
his chest and to his cheeks. He wonders how he can get those hands back on him.
“And why would I wanna date?” Jeongguk shakes his bangs in place again.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Jimin replies, turning his back to
fry the eggs. “It’s your choice, baby.”
Jeongguk toes the kitchen tiles, chewing on his lip in agitation. “I don’t want
to be with anyone but you.”
“And your dad,” Jimin’s reminder is instant.
Jeongguk nearly cracks the tile with his foot. Almost bleeds his lip dry. The
heat on his face plummets to his stomach and swells into an ugly, vicious
storm. “No. Just you.”
Jimin laughs again. The sound is faint and clearly alarmed, which adds onto
Jeongguk’s flaring anger. He’s going to be thirteen soon. He already knows what
he wants, and it’s not some faceless nobody.
“You don’t want me?”
Sneaking his way across the room in three long strides, Jeongguk stops beside
him. His presence makes Jimin stiffen, the spatula in his quivering hand
hovering above the sizzling pan.
“Oh, baby, no. That’s not what I meant.” Jimin shakes himself from his moment
of unease to grin down at him. Bright and warm. Happy and prettier than anyone
Jeongguk’s ever seen. “Of course, I want you here. I just thought that you
would want your dad, too.”
He eats it up, believes that Jimin has finally realised where he belongs. Jimin
wouldn’t deny him. He’s the only person he has left apart from Namjoon.
Jeongguk overheard that Jimin had left his family and friends for his dad. His
mother had laughed about it. She’d called Jimin an ‘idiot for abandoning
everything for some good dick’. Jeongguk had wanted to hurt her for the
comments. Instead of laughing, she should’ve cried for Jimin. He has no one.
Jimin must be so lonely. He feels so sorry for his step-father, but it’s okay,
because he’s here now.
“I want you. I don’t need anyone else.” Jeongguk smiles, winding his arms
around Jimin’s waist to tuck his head into his side.
Jimin smiles warily back at him, his hand hesitant to pat his head. “One day
you’ll find someone better than me.”
Jeongguk’s smile promptly drops into a deep frown. “No, I won’t,” he shakes his
head, “I’m gonna stay here with you! I’ll take care of you,” he insists,
tightening himself around Jimin, who gasps quietly at his surprising strength.
“Jeongguk, you shouldn’t go around saying that.” Jimin pulls him aside, away
from the stove, and pries his arms from his waist. “I should be the one taking
care of you, not the other way around.”
Jimin is bending over him, a sternness to his soft features. Jeongguk can tell
he wants to be firm, but Jimin’s never been too good at disciplining Jeongguk.
He’s oblivious to how awfully distracted Jeongguk gets by the closeness – by
the fresh clean scent of the body scrub he knows Jimin loves. He’s tempted to
press in closer, to get a taste of the honey and cream on his neck.
“Anyway, I don’t think your mom would be too happy with that,” Jimin sighs,
gripping Jeongguk’s shoulders gently. “She might think I can’t look after you.
I don’t want her to keep you from seeing your dad more than she already is. It
isn’t fair for you to only get to see him a few times a week, and he’s not even
here.”
Barely listening, Jeongguk reaches out to play with the collar of Jimin’s
shirt. He tugs one aside to glimpse at more of the bruises dotted along his
collarbone. His tongue flicks out to run along his bottom lip, absently tracing
a fingertip around the biggest one. He wonders how much force it takes to leave
such a bruise. And how many tries has it taken his dad to leave something that
obscene. He doesn’t stop until Jimin takes his hand, bringing his dazed stare
back to his face. Jimin looks concerned, his lips tugged downwards, yet all
Jeongguk can think about is how there’s barely two inches between their faces.
Get any closer and he can feel Jimin’s mouth on his. Soft and sweet.
“Jeongguk, are you listening?” Jimin sighs, and Jeongguk almost moans when he
feels his breath ghost over his cheek. “I don’t want your mom keeping you away
from your dad.”
The boy’s eyelashes flutter, the annoyance he feels about the idea of his
mother denying him his right to see Jimin rises like fire in his gut. His
mother wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t stop him from seeing Jimin. She wouldn’t
stop him from doing anything. She can try, but she won’t get far. He’s not
afraid of what she’ll do, his parents are far busier with their own affairs to
care. Neither of them know how much he loves Jimin. Being away from him for
more than a few days already makes him unhappier than their wallets can mend.
“She won’t do that,” Jeongguk grins, his eyes crinkling in the corners. The
threat in his tone doesn’t go unheard.
He sees the goosebumps rise on Jimin’s exposed forearms, his fingers subtly
tightening on Jeongguk’s shoulders. He looks scared, almost disturbed. The
longer he holds on, the more the boy wonders if it’ll leave a bruise. He’ll
stand in front of his mirror for hours just to admire the fading shapes of
Jimin’s fingers if so.
“She won’t keep me away.” Jeongguk stares back at him, his expression serene
and confident. In Jimin’s moment of stunned silence, he daringly turns their
joined hands and brings Jimin’s wrist to his lips. He gives it a quick peck,
wanting to stay for more but he knows he’d be testing his limits, before
sauntering out of the kitchen.
 
Later in the night, Jeongguk tucks himself snugly into Jimin’s side with his
hands buried in a bowl of popcorn on Jimin’s lap. They sit in the living room
browsing their movie options as Jimin lowly gripes about the expensive surround
sound system that Namjoon has installed – the equipment probably more beloved
than anything. Jeongguk doesn’t care for what his dad spends his money on. It’s
never been an issue. So, he genuinely doesn’t understand why Jimin complains.
He thinks it might help if he gives his step-father a distraction.
He holds him tighter, drapes himself over him, slipping one of his small hands
dangerously through a gap in his shirt to feel his warm skin. This time, Jimin
laughs. He comments on how kids his age usually shy away from familial skin-
ship, and that it’s nice for Jeongguk to be so affectionate. He turns a blind
eye to the leg wrapped around his thigh, it’s customary at this point for
Jeongguk to be practically plastered to his side.
Jeongguk scowls but doesn’t let it get to him. He’d be wasting time. He only
has Jimin for a night.
“Dad’s not coming home,” Jeongguk utters, biting down his excitement.  
Jimin hums.
Namjoon has a habit of staying at the office after hours. His work comes before
all else. Even his son. It’s no secret. Jeongguk doesn’t care. His ex-wife
hadn’t cared. And Jimin, himself, is getting used to it, reluctant as he is.
Although it is nice to see Namjoon once in a while, mostly for the apologetic
gifts he often has on hand, tonight Jeongguk is gleeful about the fact that his
dad is as absent as ever. He has the whole night to be alone with Jimin. If he
behaves himself, and asks nicely like a good boy, Jimin might even let him
sleep in the same bed. His stomach jumps just thinking about it.
“No, baby, I don’t think he is,” Jimin sighs, stretching his legs out onto the
coffee table. “He’s such a party pooper anyway during movies.”
“He likes those weird foreign movies with the words on the screen,” Jeongguk
adds, eager to joke around with Jimin, even if it’s at the expense of his dad.
If someone were to ask him how much he cared for his father, Jeongguk would
question if he even had a father to care for.
“Sh… his ears will burn,” Jimin giggles, reaching forward for the remote as an
excuse to make Jeongguk retreat his hand from his stomach. He ignores the
indignant pout on the boy’s lips as he turns up the volume, sitting back just a
few inches further from Jeongguk than he originally was.
He’s a smart kid. He knows what Jimin is doing. He’s smarter not to call him
out on it. Jeongguk’s not one for confrontation. He’s annoyed by most things,
but not Jimin, never Jimin.
“Dad won’t get mad. He loves you too much,” Jeongguk says, placing his knobbly
knees on the couch to lean over and grab a handful of popcorn from Jimin’s lap.
Carefully, he looms in a hair’s breadth away. So close his bangs almost brushes
Jimin’s chin. He has his other hand braced on the tensing muscle of his upper-
thigh, fingers splayed to touch as much as he can. Jimin doesn’t look at him,
he can see he’s trying hard not to breathe. He caused that. He’s the one that
made Jimin short of breath. Not his dad, not some worthless fuck trying to
touch what rightfully belongs to him. Jeongguk makes Jimin breathless. From
just one touch of his thigh, Jimin’s body draws taut. And Jeongguk’s belly
burns at the sight of his clenching jaw and pouting lips, so ready to be kissed
and bitten.
“I love you too,” Jeongguk reminds him softly, plopping back down so he’s
pressed to Jimin’s side once again.
Jimin’s shoulders drop gradually, his breathing levels and he’s back to
smiling. “You’re so cute, Jeonggukie.”
Jeongguk shrugs, brushing off the devastation of not hearing his words
returned. Jimin will get there. “For now.”
Giggling again, Jimin kisses the top of his head. The press of his lips against
his hair is almost enough to satisfy the craving in Jeongguk’s gut. Almost.
“I know, I know. You’re not gonna be my little man forever, but let me dream.”
Grumbling petulantly, Jeongguk holds onto a fistful of Jimin’s shirt. “I’m not
little. Stop calling me that.”
“You’re adorable,” Jimin teases, popping a few pieces of popcorn into his
mouth, missing the way Jeongguk’s eyes follow the bob of his throat as he
swallows.
“I’m going to be thirteen soon. Dad says that’s when I’ll become a man,” he
tells him, “then I can take care of you. You don’t have to be alone anymore.
I’ll be here.”
To Jeongguk, it’s a promise.
“Jeongguk, I told you that you shouldn’t talk like that.” Jimin furrows his
brows at him, gently prying his wiry fingers from his shirt.
The boy growls.
“Why? Are you scared I’ll do a better job than dad?”
Jimin recoils in surprise. He stares back at Jeongguk, forehead creasing in
distress. He’s heard Jeongguk talk this way many times in the past. He’s
brushed and laughed it off. Today, Jeongguk is having none of that.
“You’re a kid, Jeonggukie.” Jimin steels himself up, shoulders lifting and head
holding high. “You can’t go around making those decisions. And I can look after
myself. I am the adult in this house.”
Jeongguk wants to shout and kick his legs, but settles for a sullen scowl.
Rigid in his barely contained fury, he picks the bowl of popcorn from Jimin’s
lap and replaces it with his own weight, his little bottom plopping right down
on the tops of Jimin’s thighs, his legs bent on either side. He gives himself a
second to admire the firmness of them, his insides warming in lust. His hands
come up to cup Jimin’s face then, long fingers that still have some potential
growth coming to dig into his jaw with a stubbornness only a child his age
could possess. He’s still small on Jimin’s lap, his thighs clenching around the
man’s hips as hard as he can but he knows it would be easy for Jimin to throw
him off.
For an excruciating moment, they stare. Jimin too shocked and Jeongguk too
angry. The boy’s tongue heavy with venom and insolence.
“You’re mine,” Jeongguk declares, using a similar tone that he would to claim a
toy. Jimin is his. His dad may have Jimin in his bed and in his home, but
Jeongguk wants more than that. Jimin will give him more than that. One day
he’ll give Jeongguk his all. He just has to be patient. Namjoon can fuck Jimin
all he wants, Jeongguk doesn’t plan on letting him touch Jimin again when he’s
old enough to give Jimin everything he needs.
“You’re mine,” he says again, his face inching closer with every breath. “I
should take care of what’s mine.”
Jimin turns pink. From his neck to his ears, he flushes in embarrassment. Or is
it flattery? Whenever Jeongguk thinks Jimin’s finally coming around, he
dismisses it. He wouldn’t treat Namjoon this way. No, he’s prepared to go on
his hands and knees for Namjoon the second he hears his belt unbuckle. Jeongguk
feels vile and warm at the thought of it.
“Y-You’re still a kid, Jeonggukie,” Jimin repeats in a whisper, barely moving
his lips in fear of drawing Jeongguk’s attention to them.
“For a few more years,” the boy smirks. He slides himself further down Jimin’s
lap, chest brushing against chest.
Jimin shifts uncomfortably, pushing back against the couch. Not wanting to make
sudden movements that could set Jeongguk off, he turns his head away, avoiding
the boy’s eyes. Though it’s difficult with Jeongguk holding his face firmly in
place. He’s going to leave finger marks. They’ll be the first he gives to
Jimin.
“I’ll be better than dad. I can love you the way you should be.” Jeongguk is a
picture of innocence. Big beautiful eyes, and bunching cheeks. His smile is
borderline disdainful, small but bright enough to distract from the frenzy in
his gaze. Anyone walking in on the scene would think nothing of the
compromising position the two are in. All they’d see is a boy playing with his
step-father. And maybe Jeongguk likes it that way. No one else has to know.
Jimin is gaping like a fish out of water, blinking rapidly as if he’s
hallucinating – dreaming.
Jeongguk strokes his cheek comfortingly, eyes softening. He doesn’t expect
Jimin to get it right away. Jeongguk has a lot of growing to do yet, he’ll
prove his worth.
“It’s okay if you don’t understand.” Not able to control himself that much
longer in a haze of honey and cream, Jeongguk leans in all the way and kisses
Jimin’s chin, eyes fluttering shut as he makes contact. Barely an inch below
his bottom lip, he smiles into Jimin’s skin. When he retreats, Jimin is pale
and stricken with surprise.
The boy is eager to see his reaction to that.
“I…”
Disappointingly, their moment is broken with a phone call.
Flailing in panic, Jimin gently sets Jeongguk down on the couch and scrambles
up to his feet to reach the phone. Namjoon, to Jeongguk’s extreme chagrin, is
Jimin’s saving grace. He’s calling to apologise for missing dinner, which his
step-father waves off, giggling sweetly at Namjoon’s consideration. The colour
returns to his cheeks and the sound of his husband’s voice seems to dissipate
most of the tension from his shoulders. He has his back turned to Jeongguk,
clutching onto the phone for dear life.
“No, Namjoon, it’s alright. We can spend breakfast together. J-Jeongguk misses
you,” Jimin lies, peeping over at the boy sitting obediently on the couch.
Jeongguk glowers openly, which causes for Jimin to snap his head back around.
He hears his dad quietly say that the office is in havoc and that he’ll have to
hang up the call now, and Jeongguk immediately agrees. He’s ready to rip the
cord from the wall for the conversation to end.
“W-Wait! Wait, I…” Jimin stops him quickly, hopping in place, “I…I miss you! Is
the office really that busy that you can’t spare some time for your husband?”
he asks, pouting exaggeratingly.
Jeongguk glares at the phone in his hand, silently urging Namjoon to hang up.
His jealously sears like a burning iron through his chest. His hands clenching
against the cushions, cursing at his lack of strength to rip them in two. No
matter how much Jeongguk fills the space, Namjoon will always be a much bigger
presence in Jimin’s life. There’s nothing he can do.
“N-No. No problems. Jeonggukie is fine. We’re – no, no – we’re just watching a
movie,” Jimin tells him, his fingers shaking ever so slightly. “I figured you
would be home by now. I thought we could spend the day together since
Jeonggukie goes back to school soon. You should be here with him.”
Their conversation goes on for too long in Jeongguk’s opinion, and he doesn’t
want to sit idly by to listen to Jimin coo and fawn over his dad. He’s about to
break the skin of his lip with how hard he’s biting down. He wants to scream.
“Please take care of yourself, okay? I want you home in one piece,” Jimin
giggles.
Jeongguk gets up from the couch. He’s had enough.
“Hyung,” he whines sweetly, “hyung, I’m sleepy,” he sniffles, padding over to
his step-father. He stops a step behind him to wind his arms about his waist,
deciding to rest his head above the swell of Jimin’s ass. The man jolts beneath
his touch, and Jeongguk has to swallow down his growl of frustration before he
speaks again, “I want a bath.”
“Ah, I think it’s time you go tuck Jeongguk into bed,” Namjoon chuckles from
the phone.
Jimin sighs quietly as he twists around to pet Jeongguk’s head. No hesitation.
Seems he’s forgotten all about Jeongguk’s aggression. That, or he’s chosen to
ignore it all completely. Knowing Jimin, that wouldn’t be too farfetched.
“You’re already sleepy, baby?” Jimin croons, threading his fingers through his
hair.
Jeongguk nods, keeping his face buried in Jimin’s belly.
“Alright. I’ll go draw you a bath. You wanna say goodnight to your dad while I
go do that?” Jimin smiles, and Jeongguk rejoices in how untroubled it looks.
“Okay.” He nods, taking the phone from Jimin’s hand, waiting for Jimin to
shuffle out of the room before he starts talking. He’s used to these phone
calls with Namjoon. His dad will apologise for his busyness before attempting
to amend his wrongs by arranging a time to have a meal together. Key word,
attempt. Namjoon hardly follows through with his promises, and the gifts he
comes home with only get bigger and more extravagant the more he breaks them.
It’s the same old guilt-ridden story. As long as he’s compliant, the
conversation will end in two minutes.
“Hey, dad.”
“Hey, bud! You being good for Jiminie?” Namjoon asks in faux cheer.
“I’m always good.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes.
“Right,” Namjoon sighs. “Listen, Jeongguk, I’m sorry I’m not there. I should be
but… you’re a big kid now, right? You can take of yourself.”
Disinterested, the boy turns to face the doorway, hoping to catch a peek of
Jimin bending over the bathtub around the corner. His lingering anger from the
interruption compels him to be shorter with his father than he typically is.
“Yeah.”
In the distance, the water is running, and he can imagine the steam rolling
towards the ceiling, fogging up the tiles. Jimin is humming, sweet and
absentminded as he’s probably pouring the entire bottle of bath bubbles into
the tub. His mouth waters picturing Jimin bent in half, his ass swaying
happily. Jeongguk wants to end the call quick, so he can join him.
“Jimin is there. You guys can do all sorts of fun stuff while I’m
away!” Namjoon tries, he does.
Oh, what his dad would say if he knew what Jeongguk was thinking of doing. How
angry he would be to find his twelve-year-old son behaving this way. The boy
wonders how red Namjoon’s face would turn if he comes home to find Jeongguk
between Jimin’s legs, bruising up his already marked thighs with his teeth and
tongue. How much he would scream if he watched Jeongguk crawl up to kiss
Jimin’s lips, or touch his skin.
The chaos that would ensue.
“Kiddo, you still with me?”
Jeongguk grunts.
His father interprets his silence as anger. “I know you’re probably annoyed.
Let’s have breakfast together, okay? I’ll try to come home in the morning.”
Before he can stop it from happening, he says, “you don’t have to.”
“What?”
Pursing his lips in irritation, the boy clenches the phone harder in his hands,
turning his knuckles white. “I said, you don’t have to. I’ll have breakfast
with Jimin-hyung. I know you’re busy.”
His father is quiet on the other line. Jeongguk counts down the seconds. He
promises that if it reaches ten, he’ll hang up. Unfortunately, Namjoon can be
heard breathing.
“Jeongguk,” Namjoon calls sternly, “I know you love your step-dad, and I’m sure
he loves taking care of you, but you’re not giving him trouble, are you?”
His annoyance flares, and he’s a moment away from throwing the phone against
the wall. What he does with Jimin is none of Namjoon’s business. He’s hardly
here. What does he care? Jeongguk is the one keeping Jimin from being all
alone. Jeongguk is the one making him happy. Jeongguk is here, and Namjoon is
not. He has no right to scold Jeongguk for doing what he should be.
Through gritted teeth, he asks, “why do you care? You’re never here.”
Namjoon inhales sharply. “Hey. That’s not fair. You know I have-”
“Work. Yeah, I know that,” Jeongguk cuts in with a scoff. “Why do you even
call? Jimin-hyung is fine without you. I can take care of him.”
He’s not childish, he’s being assertive.
Namjoon makes an affronted noise. “Jeongguk, you’re a kid. You have no say in
what business I have with my own husband.”
Jeongguk clenches his jaw, keeping his feet planted to the floor in case he
creates a questionable hole in the wall. His envy is scathing. “He’s mine just
as much as yours.”
That’s not true. By right – by marriage, Jimin is Namjoon’s. Jeongguk neither
shares a house with him or sleeps with him. This wouldn’t be the first time
he’s contemplated breaking their marriage. He’s just afraid he won’t get to see
Jimin again if he does.
“Jeongguk,” Namjoon snaps, “you’re forgetting that I’m still your father. I
will not have any of that attitude in the house, do you understand? I hope you
don’t act this way with Jimin.”
“Why would I?” Jeongguk retorts. “I love Jimin-hyung.”
“I get that, but you do not have the right to behave like a brat while I’m not
around,” Namjoon says, most definitely pinching the bridge of his nose in
exasperation. “If I hear that you’ve been misbehaving, I…”
There’s not much Namjoon denies his son. Since he was a toddler, his dad has
made sure he would not want for anything. He’s spoiled, and pampered. No one’s
lifted a hand against him. His father is too guilty to discipline him.
“I’ll make sure to tell your mother that until you fix your behaviour, you will
be put through more English lessons,” Namjoon eventually tells him, sounding
proud of himself for finding a sufficient punishment.
Immediately, Jeongguk growls. The time he spends doing something else, is the
time he could be with Jimin. What he would give to yell at his parents. But
he’s not a child anymore. Throwing tantrums would result in more coddling on
Jimin’s half.
“You won’t stop me from coming here,” Jeongguk says defiantly, rolling his
shoulders.
“I’m your father, I can stop you from doing a lot of things,” his dad
scolds. “If you continue like this, I’ll have Jimin send you to your room.”
“Jeonggukie…” Jimin appears at the doorway, cheeks pink from the steam, his
fluffy hair bouncing with his hop. Jeongguk wants to bite him. “Did you say
goodnight to your dad yet? The bath is ready,” he smiles.
The boy perks up, nodding once. Seeing Jimin’s face lifts his mood
considerably. “I’ll talk to you later, dad.”
“Jeongguk! I’m not done speaking to y-”
“Hyung is waiting for me. Goodnight.” He ends the call.
In the bathroom, Jeongguk finds Jimin on his tiptoes at the sink. Pausing in
his search in the medicine cabinet, he turns to grin at the boy. It’s
infectious, and Jeongguk can’t resist returning it with a smile of his own. He
wants to ask what he’s looking for, but he rather take this moment to admire
the stretch of Jimin’s strong legs as he wobbles on his cute toes. He’s
barefoot with his jeans rolled above his ankles, his shirt fluttering teasingly
just above his waistband, giving Jeongguk a little show. Further inside, the
bathtub is full and fluffy with bubbles, the fragrance of something sweet
making the air heady.
“Ah! I found it!” Jimin exclaims happily, dropping back down on his heels. In
his hand, he proudly holds up a yellow rubber ducky, giving it a few squeezes
to hear it squeak. “I thought you might get lonely in the tub! I would’ve
gotten you some more toys to play with but you don’t stay overnight every day,”
he says, cupping the duck between two hands, looking smaller and sadder than
Jeongguk can bare.
“Thanks,” he mutters, trying to contain his adoration. At his age, he really
has no need for bath toys. Or toys of any kind, but denying Jimin anything
would be a bigger issue. How lucky he is. To have a step-father this attentive
and sweet. Most of his peers don’t have any type of relationship with their
step-parent. Then again, most of his peers are not in love with their step-
parent.
“Er…”
The silence isn’t awkward per se. At least, not to Jeongguk. Without Namjoon,
they’re plunged back into the tension from earlier. The boy feels his toes curl
in his socks. They’re alone again, and the bathroom’s potent fog seems like
they’ve stepped into a whole other world. Just them. Jeongguk feels his chest
lurch in anticipation, his longing consumed and intensified by his previous
jealousy – just a breath away from becoming insanity.
Jimin breaks their silence first.
“I’ll go get your clothes for you. You get in the tub.” Jimin hands him the
duck, then exits. He brushes past him carefully seeing as how Jeongguk refuses
to move, hoping that they’ll touch somehow if he stays still.
He only catches a whiff of Jimin before he goes.  
Jeongguk listens to him amble away for a while before he’s finally moving to
shuck out of his clothes. He nudges them aside in a pile, careless. Taking his
time, he dips one foot into the bath water and shivers delightfully at the
warmth. He sinks in with a gratifying sigh, leaning against the wall with his
legs stretched out. He places his rubber ducky in front of him, letting it
float. Here, he can smell the bath salts Jimin uses. His lotions and creams are
right there, sitting by to be used. The room smells of Jimin. Nothing of
Namjoon to taint the purity of it. It’s all Jimin. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.
Jeongguk feels dizzy.
“I got your clothes, Jeonggukie,” Jimin chirps, skipping back with some
pyjamas. He sets them down on the counter and frowns at the pile of dirty
clothes on the floor. “Ah, really…”
“Leave them, hyung.” He shrugs. “I can always pick them up later.”
“Hm.” Jimin squints at him disapprovingly. “You should learn to just do it
right away.”
“I have maids for that,” Jeongguk replies instantly, shifting forward in the
water to rest his forearms on the edge of the tub. He stares up at Jimin in
confusion, wondering why Jimin would be so bothered by a pile of clothes.
Jimin huffs. “We don’t have maids here, Jeongguk. Also, being self-sufficient
will help you in the long run. You won’t have maids forever. Adults don’t rely
on their maids.”
Jeongguk straightens up, frowning. This is what he wanted to avoid; Jimin
thinking he’s too much of a child – one that needs to be picked up after.
“Alright, then I’ll pick them up now,” he says, standing from the tub, the
bubbles cascading from his arms and chest, spilling water from the tub. Young
and lanky, Jeongguk is somewhat self-conscious of how Jimin will see him,
however, this isn’t the first time he’s seen him in a bath. Though each time,
Jeongguk hopes he’d at least blush.
Jimin laughs lightheartedly, entirely unaffected as he’s picking up the dirty
articles to place them in a hamper basket in the corner. “It’s okay. Take your
bath. I’m doing the laundry tomorrow anyway.”
He sits back down disgruntledly, pushing his bangs from his forehead. Namjoon
must be bigger. Of course he is, he’s older. More endowed to give Jimin all he
wants. He must be, given how agreeable Jimin always sounds. If there’s one
thing he hopes he’ll get from his dad when he’s older is his size. Better yet,
he hopes he’s bigger. To pound and devastate Jimin in all the ways that his dad
can’t. From the lack of marks on his step-father’s wrists, Namjoon isn’t
forceful. The marks he has are carefully placed – can be hidden easily. So,
he’s curious about the state of Jimin’s thighs; if they’re just as red and
blotchy as the column of his neck is. Does Jimin bruise easily? With such soft
skin, Jeongguk hopes so.
He can do so much better.
“Can you stay with me?” he asks, making Jimin halt at the door.
Jimin cocks his head. “You’re too old for me to be here, aren’t you, baby? I
think you can wash yourself.”
Ah, so he’s too old for company in the bath, but not for toys?
“Apparently not if you still call me baby,” Jeongguk smirks.
Jimin rolls his eyes, murmuring something about how Jeongguk is a, “Snarky lil
shit.”
“You don’t have to wash me, I can do that myself,” he reassures, grabbing the
loofa from the side to soak it in the water. The duck floats by, bobbing gently
in the water. At least one form of Jimin is willing to be in a bath with him.
“Then why do you want me here?” Jimin smiles in amusement, sitting down on the
closed toilet seat anyway.
Jeongguk bites his tongue from asking him to move closer. Is Jimin scared he’ll
do something? He scoffs internally. It’s almost positive that his hands can’t
be trusted when Jimin is near.
“I like when you’re around.” He shrugs.
Jimin squeaks, cupping his cheeks in his hands in fondness. “You’re the
sweetest baby in the whole world, Jeonggukie!” he squeals.
He sighs. No point correcting him. Jimin is happy, that’s all that matters.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He wonders how many sweet words it’ll take for Jimin to join him in the water.
He’s taken one bath with Jimin and that was months ago. He’d looked upset and
grumpy and the man had gone out of his way to cheer him up. Going as far as to
feed him by hand with the boy snug on his lap, and to sit with him in the
bathtub when Jeongguk had whined about feeling lonely. And when it came to
bedtime, Jimin had nudged a sleepy Namjoon aside to make room for Jeongguk.
He’s never told them that he’d neither been upset or grumpy that day. At times,
when he allows it, he’ll act a little younger, tug at Jimin’s heartstrings to
see what he’ll do. The man rarely fails to give a reaction.
“So,” Jimin starts before he can, “I know your dad is busy nowadays, but he’s
trying his best. I bet he misses you and wishes he were here with us. So, I
thought we could do something for him. Just something to say, ‘cheer up!’. I
thought we could get up early tomorrow and make him a nice breakfast for all
his hard work. How does that sound?” he beams.
Jeongguk chews on the inside of his right cheek, his tongue jabbing into it in
annoyance. “Can’t he make his own food?”
“He works hard, Jeongguk. He should at least come home to a warm meal,” Jimin
says. “He pays for the house, for you to go to school, for all of your toys. I
think it would be great if we could give him something back, right?”
He shrugs again. He doesn’t care either way, he still gets to be with Jimin.
Though the idea that it’s all for Namjoon sours the taste, he won’t pass up a
chance to please his step-dad. “I didn’t ask for those toys. He just comes home
with them because he feels bad about not spending time with me. I give most of
them away to the people next door anyway. I don’t play with toys anymore.” He
likes art and colouring books more, but he’s keeping that to himself.
Jimin smiles softly. “Ah… what a good kid you are.”
“Mom says if he spends as much time buying toys for me as he does being with
me, he would actually be a good dad,” Jeongguk snorts, grabbing one of the
bottles of liquid soaps to squeeze some onto his loofa.
Jimin is quiet as he goes about washing his arms, his forehead wrinkled.
Speaking about his mother, Jeongguk discovers, is one sure-fire way to get
Jimin in a subdued mood. Although he wants to fix it, it’s too late. His mother
talks too much for her own good. Especially with a son as crafty as Jeongguk is
turning out to be.
“She says that?” comes Jimin’s timid question.
“She says a lot of things. Not like I believe her,” he says in nonchalance.
“She also says you’re a slut. I looked up what it means on the internet.”
Jimin looks frazzled, his back snapping up stiffly. “O-Oh god, Jeongguk.
Please, please, don’t ever repeat those kinds of words. They’re bad words,” he
says, sinking to his knees beside the tub, his hands coming together anxiously
on the edge. He looks as if he’s about to cry, his face crinkling in sadness.
“I don’t ever want you to say that, to anyone! Okay? It’s not nice, and your
mom should’ve known better than to say that when you were around. You shouldn’t
have had to hear her say that. It’s mean.”
“I know it is!” he’s quick to reassure, giving Jimin what he hopes is a
comforting look. “I would never call you anything like that. You’re not,
though. I don’t think you’re… that. You’re amazing, and I love you, Jimin-
hyung. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you!”
“I know, I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart,” Jimin breathes, combing his blond
bangs from his forehead.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” he frowns down at the sudsy bath water, “I’m
sorry.”
Jimin smiles woefully, taking Jeongguk’s small face into his trembling hands.
“You’re such a sweet baby, and I would hate for her to…,” he sighs, leaning in
further to kiss his forehead. “I think that’s enough about that. I don’t wanna
spoil the mood. We should… We should hurry up and tuck you into bed. It’s
getting late.”
As Jimin is getting back up on his feet, Jeongguk hastily grabs his wrist, his
wet fingers slipping on smooth skin. “I mean what I said, hyung. I don’t like
seeing you sad. I wanna make you happy,” he persists earnestly, “and you
shouldn’t care about what my mom says. I won’t let her hurt you.”
“Jeongguk, that’s not-”
“What she says shouldn’t matter. She can’t do anything to you.” He’s so
desperate to comfort that he doesn’t realise how uneasy it makes Jimin. He
thinks the furrow in his brows is the upset he feels about Jeongguk’s mother’s
words. “I won’t mention her again, I promise. I’ll protect you.”
Jimin’s eyes widen, and he’s tugging weakly on his wrist, wincing as Jeongguk
tightens his grasp. “Jeongguk,” he whimpers. He’s starting to panic.
Jeongguk knows the steam and perfume of the salts are getting to him – clouding
mind and judgement.
“You know that, right? You know I wouldn’t let her hurt you?” he asks, his
blunt nails digging in fearfully, wanting to keep Jimin in place. He frowns
when Jimin tries to struggle free. Although he’s much stronger than Jeongguk,
he’s too afraid of wrenching himself away. Jimin is kind, but to a fault.
“Jeongguk, please, stop.” Jimin trembles.
“I’ll let you go. Just tell me you’re okay,” he requests, pushing forward to
get a better grip.
Jimin closes his eyes briefly, bracing himself for something unknown. When he
opens them again, they’re teary, and his blush is all consuming. He glows. It’s
so beautiful. Does Jimin know how gorgeous he is when he’s flustered?  Will he
get mad if Jeongguk kisses him again? On the lips this time?
“…Am I scaring, hyung?”
Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. With as much care as he can muster, he
takes his wrist back and stumbles wordlessly to the door. Without another look,
he throws it open and runs out, leaving Jeongguk on his own in the water.
 
Dry and dressed ten minutes later, Jeongguk goes on a search for Jimin. He’s
not in the living room or the kitchen, the lights have been turned off. So, he
ends up in the one place he always does. The bedroom.
The master bedroom isn’t unfamiliar to him. It’s often where he’ll find Jimin
taking naps or sitting out on the balcony to watch the sunrise. Tonight, he’s
staring out at the moon. Jeongguk watches him from the doorway, more entranced
by the moonlight glow on the side of his step-father’s face than the black,
clouded canvas of the sky. There’re no stars above Seoul. He’s never been lucky
enough to see more than three. Although he’s read about them, seen pictures,
and have been told that there are billions out there yet to be seen, he’s
content with those three stars. No amount of them will come close to the ones
in Jimin’s eyes.
“You should go to your room, Jeongguk,” Jimin says without turning his head.
“Can’t I sleep here?” he asks, crossing the room. The large fur rug that takes
up most of the floor tickles his toes, and he thinks, if Jimin won’t let him
sleep on the bed, the rug is comfortable enough for the night.
“No… No, I think you’re better off in your room,” Jimin insists, leaning
further back in one of the lounge chairs.
The boy stops at the glass doors, needing to be close, but understanding that
Jimin is upset. “…I don’t like sleeping without you. My bed is too small for me
now, and the room is all dusty. I don’t even use it anymore,” he says, wringing
the bottom of his shirt.
“I clean your room every week, it’s fine,” Jimin tells him with a little more
temper. He sighs wearily. “Please, just go to bed, Jeongguk. I’ll wake you up
in the morning and we’ll make breakfast for your dad. Right now, you need to go
to sleep in your own room. That’s what big boys do.”
He sounds exhausted. Looking closer, he appears even more so, with his slumping
shoulders and red-rimmed eyes. Sometimes Jeongguk forgets that Jimin is much
younger than his dad. He’s not even twenty yet. He remembers his mother calling
Jimin a child, among her other unsavoury labels. Jeongguk forgets that Jimin
never asked to be the step-father of a kid not that much younger than himself.
It’s gotta be hard. Jimin must know by now that what Jeongguk feels is no
longer puppy love. Jeongguk admits it’s pretty… wrong. Jimin would never be
allowed to pursue a relationship with Jeongguk being a minor, but to the boy’s
poor heart, he doesn’t care. He keeps on pushing.
“If I’m a big boy, I can choose where I want to sleep,” he retorts, crossing
his arms over his chest stubbornly.
“Jeongguk!” Finally, Jimin snaps. It’s neither gentle nor mindful. It’s pure
annoyance and anger. His head whips towards Jeongguk so fast the boy jumps. “I
said, go to your room. It’s bedtime.”
Overcoming his initial shock, Jeongguk opens his mouth in vehement protest, but
shuts it when Jimin shoots him a stern look. He’s conflicted if he should argue
or comply. He’s never gotten Jimin this on edge before. He’s come close many
times in the past, but now, he’s sent Jimin over the deep end. He’ll accept his
punishment for now. “Okay. Goodnight, hyung.”
Jimin nods, offering no reply as Jeongguk walks back to the door. He tries not
to stomp, each step loaded with the heaviness of rejection. It’s hard not to be
offended. He thought he was doing the right thing. He loves Jimin so much, and
to be sent away with his tail between his legs… Jeongguk doesn’t get it.
He comes back a few hours later, having lain awake in his small bed and
agitation for a while. Despite being aware of how unhappy he’d made Jimin
earlier, his self-control crumbles like paper. Knowing that Jimin is sleeping
alone right next door makes him itch. Jimin in that too big of a bed, huddled
in on himself without a warm body beside him. Jeongguk aches. After minutes of
pressing his ear to the wall in the hopes of hearing some sort of movement from
the other side, he gets out of bed. He supposes he can risk facing Jimin’s
wrath again if he can get to sleep beside him tonight.
Tip-toeing down the hallway then through the gap in the door, Jeongguk sucks
his belly in and holds his breath. He has to squint to see Jimin, nestled
warmly under the covers in the middle of the bed. He’s sleeping on his side,
cheek squished into his pillow. Jeongguk stands quietly by the edge, only
reaching out to tuck a strand of the man’s blond hair behind his ear when Jimin
rolls closer. He resists touching more of him, not daring to wake him up.
“Mm…”
Jeongguk keeps his eyes on him as he goes around to the other side. He doesn’t
hesitate to pull away the covers to get in behind him, shuffling stiffly until
his chest is fitted over Jimin’s back. Immediately, he’s in a cocoon of warmth
and softness. From where his face is buried in Jimin’s locks, the scent of
sweetness heats him up like his first sip of his dad’s liquor. Just as
intoxicating too.
He slides down to the middle of Jimin’s back once deciding that he can’t stay
still for long. Somehow, it’s more exciting with Jimin asleep for it all. Even
if Jeongguk knows nothing more than some light petting (too afraid to put any
of what he sees around him to practise, though curious to try), it’s almost
criminal for him to be touching without permission. He’s not hurting him, he
reasons. He could’ve done far worse after having to hear Namjoon fuck Jimin for
countless hours.
He’s surprised he hasn’t snapped sooner.
Jimin lacks the restraint to keep his voice down, and Namjoon is very
demanding. On some nights when he has the misfortune of listening in on their
‘love making’, it gets overwhelming and his hands sometimes wander below the
waistline of his pyjamas bottoms to palm at himself in tandem with Jimin’s
desperate mewling. It’s tame. Other nights he’ll sneak over to their bedroom
door and peek through the crack, syncing his breathing with the bounce of
Jimin’s ass as he rides Namjoon’s cock. Every wet, sloppy contact of skin
against skin has the air stuttering in his chest and has him squeezing himself
over his boxers. Jimin looks prettiest when he’s being fucked.
He never gets caught, and he never lets it show that he knows a thing about it.
Jimin looks flustered in the mornings, but cheerful nonetheless. It always
makes Jeongguk ill.
“Hm…” Jimin stirs in confusion at the movement on his back, his balled hands
coming to rub at his eyes like a kitten. “Jeongguk?” he calls, softly and
sleepily.
“Hm.”
“You’re supposed to be in your room,” Jimin murmurs, his words slurring,
however he allows Jeongguk to slot one of his legs between his own anyway. Too
tired and half-asleep to make sense of anything.
“I had a nightmare, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers, draping an arm around the man’s
waist. His face is pressed to his back, breathing in contently. A nightmare is
a poor excuse, however, Jeongguk is relying more on Jimin’s selfless kindness
than the believability of the lie.
Jimin pauses, probably debating on whether or not to kick the boy out of his
bed.
“Aw, baby, are you okay?” Jimin attempts to twist around, stopping when
Jeongguk shakes his head. The boy digs his forehead into his shoulder blade,
preventing him from turning. “Jeonggukie?”
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, Jimin-hyung,” the boy coaxes, gently petting
along his hip to soothe him.
Jimin doesn’t put much of a fight after that, his exhaustion winning over.
Jeongguk waits for the man’s breathing to regulate before he cuddles in
tighter, lining his front with Jimin’s backside. Jeongguk can barely contain
his groan as Jimin’s ass presses to his crotch. His plush, round mounds so
pliable when Jeongguk shifts around them. It’s a sin not to touch.
His arms, his stomach, his hips, ass, and thighs, Jeongguk’s hand skims over
every inch of him, his own hips jumping for a feel. It’s the first time he’s
been with Jimin like this. The arousal boiling in his gut is agonising. He does
it again, and again, and again, swirling his cock deliciously into a plump
cheek. When his fingers tighten too harshly on the man’s hip, Jimin whimpers,
urging Jeongguk to grind in harder, his cock twitching beneath his shorts,
leaking with boyish eagerness. All the times he’s dreamed of this. Being in
Namjoon’s place, getting to touch and fuck Jimin whenever and however he wants.
His dad is too spoiled. Jimin’s too giving.
He hears Jimin groan unconsciously, arching to get away, but the hand on his
waist keeps him still. Another groan, Jeongguk stops for a breathless second,
checking to see if Jimin is still asleep. He is.
“Hyung…” Jeongguk hisses. He wants to be able to stretch up and kiss him. He’s
too small – too short for it, so he settles for the tiny mole on the nape of
his neck instead. Jimin’s sweating. It’s salty on Jeongguk’s tongue, bursting
in his mouth. He wants another taste. He wants more than this.
With a gentle kick of his legs, Jimin is struggling to get on his back, deep in
his sleep and still unaware of what his step-son is up to. Jeongguk lets him.
Rolling away to allow Jimin to splay out his limbs, the boy catches his breath
with his hand on his heart. The adrenaline pulses in his chest and the tips of
his fingers, his breath lodged in his throat. He's shivering as drops of sweat
slither down his neck in the thrill of nearly getting caught. He wants to try
it again, see how far he can go until Jimin is bucking him off. Would Jimin
buck him off? The man has slept through many things, though Jeongguk doubts he
won't notice the boy humping him.
Lip caught between his teeth, Jeongguk straddles one of Jimin's legs. Just
simply plopping down on his thigh gets him bucking his hips up. Hoping that if
Jimin does wake up and find him in this illicit position he'll think that
Jeongguk was being clingy in his sleep, the boy lays himself over him. His head
comes to rest on one of his pecs, cheek nuzzling into the soft cotton of his
shirt. Being this close to him should be enough for Jeongguk to come. He
doesn't, however. He can't rush. He won't get this chance again.
The first rut is a test. Thrusting up slowly and carefully, he keeps his eyes
on Jimin's face, blissfully asleep. The second test, he's bolder; swirling his
hips into a figure eight against Jimin's thigh, his cock rubbing wickedly into
the fabric of his night shorts, giving him the needed friction for him to grab
onto Jimin's hips and grind faster. He's lost within a second. In a mess of his
own precum and drool, Jeongguk buries his face into the man's shirt, missing
the way Jimin's eyes have fluttered open.
Jimin’s smaller under Jeongguk’s fingers. In normal circumstances, the man
appears as any adult would to the twelve-year-old. Now, sitting on top of him,
Jimin seems more petite. Jeongguk’s hand can almost fit completely around a
hip. The satisfaction he gets from that is blinding. Soon, he’ll be able to pin
Jimin to the bed with just one hand.
“M-Mm…”
Jeongguk holds his twitching cock still despite his straining hips, pacing
himself in case he comes too fast. His spine is tingling, and his mind is
buzzing, but he can’t come yet. He thinks of how close he is, how he’s never
gone this far with Jimin right beneath him. His knee is so close to his crotch.
He bets Jimin is small and pretty. Like the rest of him.
"H-Hyung..." he whimpers. He starts up again, experimentally rubbing back and
forth.
Not before long, he’s rutting like a pup in heat, his opened mouth dripping
saliva over Jimin's shirt shamelessly, fucking up against Jimin’s thigh with
abandon. "Hyung... Jimin-hyung..." he moans, clamping his thighs against his
step-father's leg, humping till the knot in his gut tightens and his body
flushes all over. Drunk on the exhilaration – on the thought that if he were to
be caught, he’s at least gotten a taste of Jimin’s skin on his.
It doesn't take more than a minute for him to feel himself spill into his
shorts. Wet and sticky, it seeps through the fabric and drips onto Jimin's
skin. Jeongguk groans at the hotness of it between his legs. When he checks up
on Jimin again, his eyes are closed. He seems to still be sleeping.
Weak in the knees, Jeongguk wiggles down his leg to sniff cautiously at the
white substance shining on the top of Jimin's thigh. Smells of nothing. Curious
as ever, he runs a fingertip through it, pulling back to see a string
connecting them together. It’s not the first time he’s played with his own cum,
however, it is the first time he’s seeing it on someone else. He looks better
on Jimin, pearly and slimy. A part of him already seeping into Jimin’s
pores. Fuck.
He was right. Every inch of Jimin’s thighs are marked. The gratification
Jeongguk gets from knowing that he’s spilled himself over a spot that Namjoon
has already supposedly claimed has him groaning throatily. He’ll regret
cleaning it up. It’s a shame that he can’t make Jimin walk around with the
stain. That one tiny splatter mark to remind him of how much Jeongguk loves
him. He’s sad when he has to lick it up. The taste is bitter, but the sweetness
of Jimin makes it tolerable.
  
Jimin avoids his eyes for an hour the next morning. After waking up to an empty
bed and the sound of a running shower, Jeongguk retreats to his own room before
Jimin can notice that he'd slept in his own cum. They meet in the kitchen, and
Jimin greets him as he usually does. Cheerful and holding a pan of sizzling
bacon. Considering his chipper attitude, Jeongguk assumes Jimin knows nothing
of what happened the night prior, or what Jeongguk had done to him in his
sleep. What he doesn't understand is why Jimin turns his back on him so often.
He'd call it unfair if the man did not caress his hair or smile at him now and
then.
Namjoon comes home as he promised. Looking tired but happy, he drops his
briefcase carelessly in the living room and joins them at the table. Jeongguk
wants to call Jimin out on not reprimanding Namjoon for not properly putting
away his briefcase, but he's quickly getting distracted by the way Jimin runs
into Namjoon's arms the second he appears.
“Good morning,” Namjoon greets them both, smiling into the kiss Jimin plants on
his lips.
“Morning, hyung!” Jimin giggles, twirling back around to serve breakfast.
Jeongguk stays planted in his seat at the table, jabbing at the egg yolk on his
plate. He doesn’t so much as twitch when he feels Namjoon settle into the chair
across from him, his elbows resting on the table with a thud.
“How was quality time with Jimin, kiddo?” Namjoon asks, his work-worn and
darkened eyes crinkling in the corners.
“Good,” Jeongguk answers shortly.
“We watched a movie!” Jimin pipes in enthusiastically, perhaps too
enthusiastically. “I wanted to show Jeongguk this documentary about the stars
but it got too late and he became sleepy so soon,” he babbles, approaching
Jeongguk’s chair to pat his head affectionately.
Naturally, Jeongguk leans into the touch, eyes closing in contentment.
How forgiving Jimin is.
“Aw, that’s a shame. Maybe next time?” Namjoon’s smile is tight.
Jeongguk almost feels smug. Namjoon clearly hasn’t forgotten their conversation
over the phone. It wouldn’t be right for him to tell Namjoon who got to sleep
beside Jimin last night. He would make his step-father unhappy. He’s done
enough of that already.
“I was thinking we could all go stargazing together one day! Any day! I know
Jeonggukie would love it. We should all spend more time together, all three of
us,” Jimin suggests. He’s too eager. Jeongguk doesn’t have to look up at him to
see the desperation on his features.
“I wanna go.” He’ll play along.
“Hyung, you should see when you’re free!” Jimin says, sounding pleading.
Namjoon nods rigidly, agreeing to it though not giving a real confirmation.
He’s too busy to take days off. Jimin knows this too. Namjoon hasn’t taken a
day off in his life, he would not ruin his perfect record for a night of
stargazing. Though Jeongguk doesn’t get Jimin’s fascination with the stars
himself, he would do anything to see Jimin’s passions light up his eyes for all
of his days. Why did Namjoon not want that too?
  
They never do go stargazing, but Jimin, not an easily discouraged soul, brings
home a toy planetarium star projector one Saturday afternoon. On Friday, he’d
bemoaned the lost chance of an outing to the Gwacheon National Science Museum
for a real constellation show, however since Namjoon hasn’t found the time to
do more than eat with them and bid them goodbye at the door these days, Jimin
felt too awkward to be taking Jeongguk on his own.
He makes them a fort in the living room, pushing aside furniture to make space
for their miniature planetarium. While Jimin eagerly hops from one corner of
the room to another, cushioning every inch of the floor with pillows, Jeongguk
sits idly by, watching him from the side, enamoured with the bounce in his
step-father’s hair and the flattering hue on his full cheeks. It’s the first
he’s seen him in four days. Namjoon hasn’t been generous with Jimin’s attention
the hours he’s home. The brief minutes he catches Jimin outside the bedroom, he
immediately climbs into his lap like a love-starved pup, keening for any number
of pets and rubs he can get.
By now, Jeongguk is certain Jimin knows. Luckily, nothing gets Jimin giddier
than talking about the stars. For however long they’re amongst them, his
transgressions don’t exist.
“Jeonggukie! C’mon!” Jimin calls from within the fort, fiddling with the star
projector.
Trailing his hand along the plump cushions, old linens, and blankets, the boy
crawls into their makeshift sanctuary.
They dim the lights, and once the sheets close around them, the stars come to
life.
They take their seats in the middle, facing one another, and for the first ten
minutes, Jimin is lost somewhere above them, swimming with the stars. His
peachy skin glows in the luminescent blues and purples, and Jeongguk is
transfixed on the burst of a galaxy on his flesh.
They weren’t special to Jeongguk. The stars. He’s never found the appeal or the
majesty of them like Jimin has. His step-father is enthralled every second the
projector spins to paint the sheets with speckles of light, his hand warm
around one of Jeongguk’s as he gapes at his surroundings. At one point, he
reaches a hand out, hoping to catch a star in his palm. When he comes back with
nothing, Jeongguk’s tempted to run outside and jump as high as he can to get
one for him.
Jimin laughs once he hears this and drops a kiss to his forehead, thanking him
for the thought.
Jeongguk watches in silent resignation after that, appreciating the view for
what it is.
They are beautiful; the constellations. They’re more beautiful in the way their
names roll from Jimin’s tongue.
Virgo and Libra. Their signs. Theirs.
“See that, Jeonggukie? Aren’t they cool?” Jimin asks, more excitable than the
child with him.
Jeongguk smiles to himself. “They’re cool,” he agrees.
“Right?!” Jimin grins, bouncing in his seat. “You feel like you could reach out
and touch them, right? They’re so beautiful! Ah! See that? Those two are ours.
That’s Virgo – that’s yours!” he exclaims, pointing to a constellation to their
right.
It looks like a simple shape to him. Like a kid had tried to draw a stickman
for the first time, but forgot the head. To Jimin, it’s something stunning, so
he tries harder. He leans back and looks up. He takes it all in, hovering his
hand above the shapes along the blanket. He can’t touch, but the glow of
Jimin’s fascination with them is probably enough to give him an idea of what
they’d feel like.
He comes down with a squeeze from Jimin’s hand.
He’s gauging Jeongguk’s expression, smiling happily. He’s proud that Jeongguk
is giving it a chance. Although he knows this is more for Jimin than it is for
Jeongguk, he can’t help wanting to understand why Jimin loves the stars so
much. He’s getting a better picture now.
“Do you like it?” Jimin beams until his eyes have disappeared.
Jeongguk sighs internally. What he’d give to kiss that smile into something
more shameful.
“I love it, hyung,” he replies.
Not before long, Jeongguk's intrigue turns to Jimin. The man must sense his
staring, because his gaze flickers back to him, light and gleeful. Frivolous
and high from delight. He lets his guard down too quickly. Jeongguk doesn’t
know if it’s the result of where they are, or if Jimin has a terrible memory.
Either way, the boy has no qualms about reminding him why he should never be
left alone with him.
It’s inevitable that Jeongguk would wriggle his way into Jimin’s lap to squeeze
into his space. Jimin has no room to escape, and he can’t scoot back without
causing the fort to come tumbling down. He has nowhere to go, and Jeongguk
likes it that way.
“Jeonggukie,” Jimin laughs, his mirth disappearing with the arrival of fear,
his body sinking under the weight of the boy on top of him. “Jeongguk, you’re
getting too big for this aren’t you?”
Jeongguk shakes his head. He has one goal in mind. If he can’t kiss Jimin out
there, then he can in here. “Spread your legs, hyung.”
“W-What?” Jimin blanches.
“If you’re cramped, stretch your legs.” Each word is deliberately made to sound
innocent, Jimin knows Jeongguk’s intentions are anything but.  
“Jeongguk, it’s too cramped in here for you to be on my lap,” Jimin whines.
“It’s fine.”
“No… No, it’s really not.”
Not letting Jimin throw him off, Jeongguk concentrates most of his weight on
the man’s legs. His hands go to his shoulders, believing that he could keep him
still. “Should’ve made a bigger fort.”
Jimin grunts, huffing through his nose. “Should’ve gotten a smaller kid.”
He smirks. “Shame, isn’t it?”
“Don’t,” Jimin says, his sternness coming in clear by the dip in his tone.
“Don’t start this again, Jeongguk. We were having fun. W-We were just spending
time together. Please, don’t start.”
Jeongguk’s not afraid of ruining the tender moment. He’s all too happy to.
He’ll have many more with Jimin in the future. Right now, he’s not sure when
Namjoon will let his step-father roam free again. He’s going to make the best
of it. He’s given Jimin the time to talk. 
“Start what?”
“This,” Jimin hisses, turning his head away from Jeongguk’s half-lidded stare.
Amongst the projections, neither of them can tell how red he is, but if Jimin's
trembling is anything to go by, he's one brush of Jeongguk's lips away from
throwing a fit. “This thing you keep trying to do. Stop.”
“Make me,” he breathes.
Jimin is silent for too long, and in the end, he does what he does best; he
runs.
As anticipated, Jimin’s avoidance grows to more extremes over the next few
weeks. He knew this was coming. Jimin has more reasons to dodge him now. For
what it's worth, the man has a better understanding of his feelings. Jeongguk
planted that seed in him. 
  
Once he goes back to school and is unable to stay at his father's house over
the weekdays anymore, Jeongguk takes to frequenting the weekends. On those
days, Namjoon is home and rarely at the office, so Jeongguk is forced to watch
Jimin trail his dad like a lost duckling. He gets only a quarter of Jimin’s
attention. The man will put on a movie for him before leaving him to his own
devices. Jeongguk has to bite his tongue. He won’t prove anything if he whines.
On those nights, Jeongguk, already irritated, will force himself to stay awake,
listening to Jimin being fucked and corrupted. Either on the bed or on the
wall. He thinks if he looks tired in the morning, Jimin will be more concerned
for him.
One time, when he peeks inside to make sure Jimin is okay, Namjoon catches him.
Slamming into his petite husband like he's nothing more than a toy to be used,
a slut to be defiled, Namjoon locks eyes with him through the darkness, the
moon large and looming outside the window and over his father’s broad
shoulders. She watches just as intently as Jeongguk does – watches Namjoon pull
out to grind back in, drawing strings of moans and saliva from Jimin’s lips.
His step-father has half of his body on the floor, with his hands clenched in
the sheets and his face pressed into the crook of his arm. Namjoon is crouched
behind him, wrenching him back until his spine is curving and his head is
thrown back in pleasure. Even by the door, Jeongguk can see his bright red
cheeks. He imagines the flush is as blotchy and beautiful going down his neck.
Expecting that Namjoon would stop and berate him for peeking, Jeongguk recoils
and tries to retreat. Until, Jimin speaks.
“N-Namjoon…” Jimin sobs, fucking himself back. Every slap has Jeongguk gritting
his teeth harder and harder, his cock jumping in interest at all the pretty
noises his step-father is making. How wanton he sounds.
Did Namjoon fuck his cute little mouth before he fucked his hole?
"A little louder for me, Jimin-ah," his dad growls into Jimin's ear, snapping
his cock back sloppily inside. He’s not any louder than a whisper, but he
ensures that Jeongguk hears every syllable.
“W-Wha – but – but J-Jeongguk – he’ll hear us – ah!” Jimin stutters, more
wrecked than Jeongguk has ever seen him.
“It’s fine. He’s asleep,” Namjoon lies, holding Jimin’s hips still, preventing
him from moving or coming on his own.
“N-No…I… I don’t want J-Jeonggukie to hear – No, please, hyung.”
“Sh…It’s alright. Jeongguk is a big boy now. He already knows what we’re
doing,” Namjoon grunts. From what Jeongguk can see, he’s pausing for just a
second to spread Jimin’s cheeks with his thumbs, most likely watching his cum
and lube dribble out from Jimin’s puffy hole.
Jeongguk has to hold himself back from growling in envy and approval.
"N-Ngh...H-Hyung..." Jimin cries, clenching his teeth to be silent.
"Sh... It's okay. Let me hear you," Namjoon says, keeping his eyes on Jeongguk
as he fucks Jimin into the edge of the bed with him sobbing and clawing at the
mattress.
Jeongguk's blood boils. He could rip at Namjoon’s throat. Of course Namjoon
would compete against his own son for the affections of his husband. Namjoon
knows that Jeongguk has an agenda. The boy must be put in his place. What
Namjoon doesn't know is that, this only spurs him on more. He can be better for
Jimin.
“P-Please, I – ah – fuck, fuck-” Jimin’s cuts off with a choked gurgle, his
head turned to the door, having apparently caught sight of the boy watching
them.
Jeongguk is unstartled. He stares back at him, eyes unwavering on Jimin’s red,
sweaty, fucked out face, his chest heaving at the view. There are smears of
white and lines of tears on Jimin’s cheeks, and his hair is plastered to his
temples. He’s twitching with every brush his cock makes against the bed, pushed
into his own pleasure. Jeongguk so dearly wants to reach out and touch the back
of his hand, the one that is balled up in the sheets closest to the door. He’s
reaching out to him, the boy muses. Jimin wants to be saved. He wants Jeongguk.
“Hyung?” he calls out. 
Immediately, Jimin gathers up however much of the sheets he can to cover his
naked form, squeaking highly as Namjoon continues rocking his hips into him.
Although his protests are mostly lost within the sheets, his eyes closed, his
hips are still insistently grinding back, wiggling his ass to coax more of
Namjoon in. He’s scared to look at the boy, but he knows he’s there. Jeongguk
wants to tell him to open his eyes. He wants to see Jimin come looking at only
Jeongguk.
“See? I knew you were made for an audience,” Namjoon chuckles.
Many of their nights together go on like this, and Jeongguk's taken to sitting
outside their bedroom door, pumping his hand up and down his growing cock,
watching it drool precum every time Jimin screams. He spends his thirteenth and
fourteenth birthday sat outside in the hallway, his ear to the wall to listen
to Jimin be pounded into the mattress. And again, Jimin acts like nothing
happens, like their relationship has not already drastically changed. Namjoon
on the other hand is smug every morning, so Jeongguk finds a particular sort of
pleasure in knowing that he’s beginning to match his father’s height. It won’t
be too long now.
  
Despite their less than desired separation during the weekdays, Jeongguk never
fails to wish Jimin a goodnight. However, the older and braver Jeongguk gets,
Jimin’s calls would come less. He would find excuses to be too busy to speak to
Jeongguk for more than three minutes, and would have Namjoon take his place.
Obviously, this pleases both his mom and dad. Namjoon thinks Jimin is giving
him this opportunity to get closer to his son, but all the boy can think about
is why Jimin would be so cruel.
“You’re avoiding me.” At the ripe age of fourteen, Jeongguk’s becoming his own
man. He’s far more fearless than he was as a boy of twelve. Confrontation is
inevitable with his hormones waging wars.
“W-What?” Jimin looks startled, his lips dropping into an uncertain frown.
“I said, you’re avoiding me,” Jeongguk repeats, crossing his arms over his
chest.
“Don’t be silly, Jeonggukie. I’m not avoiding you,” Jimin dismisses it with a
wave of his hand, brushing past him to get to the kitchen.
They’re alone again. He hadn’t called to tell Namjoon he was coming over after
school, his father wouldn’t care either way. He’s all alone with Jimin again.
He should take this time to make up for what he’s lost. Jeongguk should be
cuddling up with Jimin on the couch or watching him do mundane chores. His
frustration, both emotional and sexual, has him fidgety and unable to keep
still. He’s held himself back for weeks. He needs answers.
“You keep walking away instead of talking to me,” Jeongguk growls, catching
Jimin’s arm. He feels so filthy and wretched – unworthy of touch, but he’s
so hungry for it.
Jimin winces subtly, placing his other hand over Jeongguk’s to try and ease the
grip. In spite of his gangly limbs, Jeongguk has gained some muscle over the
years. Muscle that he uses to toss and pull Jimin around however he likes.
“Jeongguk, you’re hurting me.”
Jeongguk counts to ten before peeling his fingers off one by one. His hand
drops to his side and his head falls to Jimin’s shoulder. He’s just as tall
now. He’d shot up overnight. He’ll surpass Jimin in no time. “What did I do
wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I make you mad? I’m sorry if I did. I am. Please,
just forgive me? Jimin-hyung, forgive me.”
Jimin can’t answer him.
This carries on, and on, and on. There are a few more attempts at an apology
over the course of the month. Each time, Jimin smiles and shakes his head,
offering him nothing. The distance and awkwardness has Jeongguk wound tighter
than a bow string. He gets angrier, more spiteful, short-tempered, and
reclusive. He won’t sleep; he’d rather stay awake tugging at his cock, groaning
Jimin’s name into his pillow, imagining him there, warm and wet, with his
insides hugging him so tight he feels like he’s being milked.
He seeks Jimin out whenever he can. The leisure time he’s granted to play video
games and listen to music, he goes to Jimin. After school, he goes to Jimin.
Every morning, afternoon, and evening, Jimin is a constant on his mind.
His mother is ignorant as she’s always been to how far his obsession goes. She
never questions where he disappears to. He wants to keep it that way.
Namjoon is a different story. He’s observant. He takes every chance he gets to
remind him who Jimin belongs to, though lately, even his relationship with
Jimin is strained. Jeongguk wishes he cared to know more, unfortunately he
doesn’t.
Jimin is all that matters to him, and the longer he’s denied, the easier it is
for Jeongguk to break. And break he does.
“Hyung, look at me.”
Reluctantly, Jimin does. He sets his book down on his lap to turn his gaze up
at Jeongguk, whose towering above him beside the couch. Jeongguk can see his
surprise, wondering when Jeongguk had grown tall enough to cast a shadow over
him.
“J-Jeongguk-ah?”
Jeongguk breathes steadily through his nose. “Tell me you still love me.”
What he gets is silence. All Jimin does is blink up at him owlishly,
unbreathing – unmoving. He’s afraid. And a malicious part of Jeongguk wants him
to be. He wants Jimin afraid, because it shows he still cares enough not to
hurt his step-son.
“I…” Jimin clears his throat, “I do love you, Jeonggukie. I just – I don’t
think –”
“Then say it,” Jeongguk demands, eyes wide and brimming with lust and
intensity. “Say that you love me.”
Jimin has to avert his gaze to will the image away. The blossoming blush on his
cheeks has Jeongguk softening. He loves how shy Jimin gets, how bashful he is.
Even if the man can scold him to his grave, it’s moments like these that remind
Jeongguk how shy Jimin can get when given shameless affection.
“Jeongguk, you’re being ridiculous. Why are you making me do this,” Jimin
laughs, squirming away out of embarrassment.
Jeongguk is unfazed. He needs to hear this, more than anything, he needs to
know that Jimin still loves him. Either as a son or as a potential lover, he
has to hear Jimin say it. He’s beginning to doubt, and that only disturbs him
more.
“I love you, hyung,” he confesses. He already has his heart on his sleeve for
the man, he’ll give Jimin everything else along with it. Love, lust, agony,
it’s all like drops of poison in his veins, killing him slowly. He’s curious if
it shows. Can Jimin see how much he’s suffering? Does he know how devastating
it is to not be able to touch him when he’s so near?
Jimin holds eye contact with him this time. Jeongguk admits this is the first
that he feels as if Jimin is really seeing him. But it’s not what he wants. The
feeling is not the same.
“I love you too, Jeonggukie.”
  
Soon, Jimin's evasiveness fades into background noise. Not that Jeongguk has
become uncaring but rather, he ignores it. He goes on as normal. Hugging,
kissing his cheek, trying to cop a feel in the kitchen, the living room, in the
car. Just about anywhere, Jeongguk will have his hand on Jimin’s ass. By this
point, as long as Namjoon isn’t around, Jimin lets it happen.
That’s not to say he doesn’t try to stop it. Jeongguk admires that he does.
It’s adorable that his step-father thinks that he can keep Jeongguk out of his
bed by locking his door at night. A scolding and a slap on the wrist doesn’t
deter him from sneaking into the man’s room. He’s just had to find more
creative methods than breaking down the door.
“You need to stop climbing in through the window. Knocking is an option,” Jimin
grumbles from the bed. He needn’t look behind him to know that Jeongguk had
snuck his way in. He’s just thankful the teen has the decency to close the
curtains after him.
“Would you have opened the door for me if I knocked?” Jeongguk asks, slipping
into the bed, his arms finding Jimin’s waist instantly to pull him back to his
chest. He curls around him, begging for warmth. His skin is cold from the
outdoors, and Jimin is such a nice bundle of heat.
“Probably not,” Jimin snorts.
“I could’ve broken my neck climbing the balcony, you know,” he sighs, nosing
along the back of Jimin’s neck. The man doesn’t flinch at all anymore, which is
a huge encouragement for Jeongguk to go beyond his boundaries.
“You didn’t,” Jimin retorts dryly.
“But I could have. How bad would you feel if I did?”
“Not very, considering you were an idiot to scale the balcony in the first
place.” Jimin never looks at him when they’re like this. He does his best not
to engage with Jeongguk at all. He fails most of the time.
“I do it for you,” Jeongguk whispers, daring to place a kiss to his shoulder
before craning his neck to press his lips to Jimin’s hair. It’s back to its
natural brown colour, the length a little longer to fall carelessly over his
eyes. He’s gorgeous. Jeongguk can’t get enough of running his fingers through
it. He can do that now, he’s taller. Jimin does swat him away at times, but
Jeongguk can tell his resolve is waning.
“Hey, keep your lips to yourself, or you’re sleeping on the floor,” Jimin warns
him. His back goes stiff in discomfort, Jeongguk can tell he wants to scoot
away as he tries to untangle their legs.
“On the floor? You won’t kick me out?” he scoffs.
“Don’t tempt me.”
Whether it’d be scaling the balcony or lockpicking the door, Jeongguk will find
a way back to him.
  
When Jimin insists he needs time, Jeongguk believes that’s something he can do.
He can give Jimin space, and time – time to love Jeongguk of his own volition.
As he grows, Jeongguk learns that it’s for the best. He can be patient. He can
love Jimin all the same, his love won’t change. Even after his growth spurt,
after the stretching aches of his limbs, his face full of acne, and raging mood
swings; after Jimin rejects him for the twentieth time, he loves Jimin like
there’s never been a day where he hasn’t.
He waits.
Through heartache, Jeongguk clings to what he has, to what Jimin will give him
for now. And on his fifteenth birthday, when Jimin gives him a book of
constellations with a kiss to his forehead and tells him that the stars were
his first love, he cherishes it like it’s his own heart. Although Jeongguk
still doesn't get it, he takes it for Jimin. He loves it for Jimin.
On that same day, as he's cutting his birthday cake, Namjoon sits beside him
and tells him that he and Jimin are getting a divorce.
He keeps waiting. 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
Jimin’s first love were the stars. His second had been his first-year middle
school teacher. A man of stern expressions and a dedication to some sort of
art. Jimin had been convinced he was in love with the man, until of course he
was caught fucking the mouth of one of the teaching assistants in the broom
closet. His third was the convenience store clerk around the corner from his
childhood home; a tall, lanky college student with comely features and a
crooked smile. He’d gotten over that love quicker than the second when he found
the man taking up-skirt photos of his female customers. His fourth was Namjoon.
First loves, they come and go. Impermanent. That’s what he’d been hoping for
him. He’d been holding his breath for years, hoping the boy’s behaviour would
change. It never did. In fact, he became that little bit more insatiable as he
filled out his clothes, and that had only led to a long, but clean divorce for
Jimin and Namjoon.
He thinks about it often. How things could’ve been different if he’d just held
on for a little longer. Maybe he could’ve worked things out with Namjoon, his
former husband seemed quite willing to talk. His son, however, did everything
in his power to stop the couple from reconciling. And Jimin was too much of a
coward – too scared that if he were to tell the truth, Namjoon would think he’d
coerced his son into the obsession. It got tiresome. They were taking one step
forward only to take five steps back. Though it feels like they had been pushed
more than anything.
He’s at least thankful that Namjoon was kind to the end.
He’d gotten quite the share after the divorce. Although he’d insisted that he
had no intention of taking Namjoon’s money, the man had told him that the next
time he saw Jimin, he didn’t want to see him begging for scraps. Jimin thought
better of being offended that Namjoon was implying he wouldn’t survive on his
own.
He’s liberal with Namjoon’s money. The first thing he’d done after the divorce
was go back to school. A community college where he’d worked his way up to
becoming a kindergarten teacher. It was the best place for him. Handling
Jeongguk had been an educational experience for him. There were many things
he’d done wrong.
Despite what he’d put Jimin through, he really did love the boy, even though it
was not the kind of love he wanted. He’d been such a bright spot in Jimin’s
darkening life. The kid made him smile and laugh, which is what he’d hoped
Namjoon would’ve done more for him during their marriage. He misses them from
time to time. However, he knows the idea of them is more appealing than the
actual thing.
It’s been five years since he’s seen either of them. He wonders how they’ve
been.
“Should you really be spacing out right now?” A large hand appears in his line
of vision, waving to gain his attention.
Jimin blinks, his senses returning all at once. He turns slightly, feeling a
pat on the shoulder. “Was I spacing out?”
“First day back and you’re already more dazed than the kids.” Seokjin smiles
teasingly from above him, his hands resting atop Jimin’s desk.
“Ah… Hyung, it’s too early,” he whines, shaking his bangs from his forehead.
“Your class is about to arrive. You should be on your feet,” Seokjin sighs,
tapping the desk as he pushes away to head to the door.
Seokjin’s a fellow teacher. The best to tackle a class like C-1, while Jimin
takes on the younger ankle biters in B-2. Their classrooms are across from each
other, so Jimin always has the pleasure of watching Seokjin handle the mouthier
kids. He’s been here a whole year now, but he’s yet to get used to the early
hours. He doesn’t know how Seokjin does it. Jimin’s witnessed him deal with
catastrophic tantrums and milk spillages without a falter in his smile, all at
unholy hours of the morning. He understands more when the man tells him he’s
been here for nearly four years. There’s not a grey hair in sight.
“I bet Taehyung is worse off than I am,” Jimin sighs, heaving himself from his
desk chair to stretch out his back and tug his moon patterned sweater down over
his soft tummy. He has five minutes before his first student arrives. He can
already hear the screams and sobs of distress.
“He’ll bounce back when lunch time comes,” Seokjin chuckles, walking back to
his classroom.
“Will he even make it to lunch time?”
Jimin makes a hasty sweep of his own classroom, deeming it as tidy as he can
get it before setting out to greet the sleepy kids coming in with their equally
exhausted parents. He’s all too glad to take the children off their hands when
he sees the deepening wrinkles and weary smiles. He returns their polite bows
in kind, beaming happily at the new chubby faces greeting him.
This is the second time he has a new set of kids. It’s exciting.
“Good morning, Park-seonsaengnim!”
“Good morning, guys!” Jimin grins, waving his students in after their parents
have said their goodbyes. Some of the children are shyer, but having moved up
from Taehyung’s class, most of them know Jimin by face already.
For the years that he’s been around kids, Jimin didn’t think any child could be
more troublesome than he was. Until he meets his younger brother.
Imagine his surprise when he’d seen Namjoon’s ex-wife strolling in through the
kindergarten a year ago. She hadn’t acknowledged him at first. She didn’t spare
him a glance. She stayed for five minutes, explaining to Taehyung that her
son’s diet was delicate and that he needed special attention before he was
listening to her heels click away down the hall.
Sunhi, the little half-brother, was a sweet child, but his mother’s overbearing
nature and influence within the kindergarten made it hard for any of the
teachers to treat him like the others.
Sunhi will be joining his class today.
As expected, his mother has him by the hand as they approach his classroom.
She’s not looking at Jimin, but Sunhi waves enthusiastically. It’s scary how
much the boy looks like him. Big doe eyes, rosy cheeks, and adorable overbite.
He has a few more moles than he did. Some scattered and dotted on his cheeks
and chin, one under his right eye, and three more on his forehead. Jimin had
cooed at them when he first met Sunhi. The boy had been embarrassed by them,
but Jimin had gasped and told him that they were just stars to be made into
constellations.
He’d never been prouder to make Sunhi smile.
“Jimin-ssi.”
Jimin steels himself, plastering on the friendliest smile he can muster. “Good
morning, Jiyeon-ssi… and Sunhi!”
Jiyeon is as pristine as he remembers. For his own health, he would rather not
acknowledge her appearance. He’s grown some pudge over the years. He likes it
this way, loves himself more for it, but Jiyeon looks as good as the day he’d
met her, so his confidence wavers slightly. Besides, beauty apparently only
goes so far since she’d lost her first husband to an eighteen-year old. Let’s
hope that won’t happen again for her new husband, Jimin pettily sneers in his
mind.
“By now you must know what’s required to take care of Sunhi. I expect him to be
as perfect as I left him,” she says, adjusting her handbag on her shoulder.
“Of course! Sunhi, you don’t have to worry. I’ve got lots of fun stuff for us
today,” he says to the boy, ignoring his mother’s scowl. He knows that Sunhi
has specific needs. He had to go to Taehyung for the list of things to be
mindful of while Jiyeon has said nothing to Jimin himself.
“Please make sure he doesn’t dirty his clothes,” Jiyeon says with an upturned
nose.
“Kids get dirty no matter what they do. I was thinking we’d do some finger
painting today,” Jimin says, supressing his smirk at her sneer of distaste.
“Oh! Oh! I wanna! I wanna paint!” Sunhi squeals happily. He shakes off his
mother’s hand to bounce over to Jimin, eyes bright with excitement.
Jimin giggles, “And you will!”
Jiyeon only shakes her head. When it comes to Sunhi, she’s always willing. From
what he recalls, she hadn’t been very involved in her first child’s life. No
wonder he had clung to Jimin. Jiyeon is making up for her neglect at least. Ah,
but that’s none of his business.
“So, I guess we’ll see you at three,” he says, ushering Sunhi into the
classroom so he can join his peers.
“No, actually, I will be busy from now on. I won’t be able to pick Sunhi up
anymore,” she says, looking more uncomfortable now without her child beside
her.
“Oh? Then who will pick Sunhi up?” he frowns in concern. He wasn’t informed of
this. Typically, the parents will give the kindergarten a warning beforehand
that someone else would be picking their children up for them. Jimin wasn’t
told anything at all. “Your partner?”
“No,” she shakes her head, “Jeongguk will be picking him up from now on.”
Jimin tries not to shiver at the name. He’s done so well to forget. He hasn’t
heard it being said aloud in months. Sunhi’s spoken about his big brother a
couple of times when he stops by to see Taehyung. He’d bragged about how cool
Jeongguk was. Jimin chose not to listen. The filthy guilt he feels isn’t quite
as strong when the divorce had been fresh, but after all these years his name
is like a hand on his neck and a finger down his spine. Jimin shudders.
“I…” Jimin swallows thickly, “I wasn’t told of this. D-Does he have the free
time for that?” He can’t bring himself to say the name.
“He’ll be fine. His classes finish at the same time, and campus isn’t that far
from here. You’ve known Jeongguk for years, I thought you would be fine with
it,” Jiyeon frowns.
“No, of course, I am. I was just surprised,” Jimin quickly reassures. The last
thing he wants is to see Jeongguk. The last thing he wants is for his class to
be exposed to that kind of behaviour, but, then again, it’s been five years.
Jeongguk would be twenty-years old now. He’s more mature. Jimin had been his
first love. All kids grow out of their first loves. “We’ll be glad to have J-
Jeongguk here.”
Jiyeon takes that as her cue to leave. 
 
It haunts him for the rest of the day.
He keeps thinking about it – reliving memories.
Jeongguk’s breath on his neck, his fingers on his waist, the sharp line of his
jaw caressing his cheek, prickling him with the first hints of stubble. He can
still feel it. The boy had always been like a shadow. His presence not that
forceful, but he creeps. He’s quiet, but he’s a persistent lingering thought.
He wonders how much of that has been carried through to his adulthood.
Jimin’s terrified. Every time he turns his back he has to look around the
corner of his eye to make sure the boy isn’t beside him. He really shouldn’t be
so anxious about the reunion. Jeongguk had been so young, he may not even
remember him. Plus, Jimin thinks he’s changed quite a bit since the divorce.
Regardless, Jeongguk’s plagued his mind since the kid was fifteen, and no
matter how much either of them have changed, it stands that, that is exactly
what Jeongguk had wanted once.
“I love you, hyung.”
He shivers for the umpteenth time, his stomach turning warmly. He’s so fucked.
It’s already the end of the day, the first pair of parents have arrived to
retrieve their children and Jimin is just waiting for those large dark eyes to
appear around the corner. Jeongguk used to be so boyish, very innocent in
regard to his looks. He takes after his mother in features, but has his
father’s dorky disposition that made him that little bit more approachable.
That is, when he’s not humping Jimin’s leg in the middle of the night.
How much of Jeongguk has grown?
God, he’s sweating. 
Time seems to fly by, and one by one, his students are waving him goodbye on
their way out with their parents. He keeps an eye on Sunhi in the corner,
hugging and kissing his friends as they leave. Four left. Then three, then two.
In the end, it was just Jimin and Sunhi.
“Sunhi, do you have an idea of why your brother might be late?” Jimin asks,
kneeling down beside the toy chest where Sunhi plays by himself. He’s putting
all the pieces of a toy car together, expertly slotting the wheels into place.
Jimin wants to praise him, he’s just so anxiety ridden, he can’t bring himself
to sound excited.
“Hyung is always late,” Sunhi offers, clicking the last wheel into place. He
holds it up proudly, presenting it to Jimin, who forces himself to grin until
his cheeks ache.
“Why is Jeongguk always late?” he asks, plopping down beside Sunhi. He can
spare a minute or two to get some answers. He’s not been in contact with either
Namjoon or Jeongguk for some time. Seoul is large, it’s unlikely they’d bump
into each other in the streets. However, if what Jiyeon said was true, and that
Jeongguk’s campus is not far from the kindergarten, why had Jimin not seen him
around?
He ignores his disappointment.
“I don’t know. Maybe he forgot about me,” Sunhi replies, shrugging. His tone is
casual, but Jimin notices the tremble in his bottom lip.
“Now, why would he forget you?” Jimin shakes his head. “No one could forget
you.” Trust Jeongguk to still give him trouble after all these years.
Sunhi smiles softly.
“Hey, how about we go wait for him at the gates?” he says. He doesn’t even want
to entertain the idea of being in an empty room with Jeongguk. He won’t have
much space to run if he has to. His tummy churns imagining Jeongguk chasing
after him if he does.
“Okay!”
They pass by Taehyung’s class on the way out. To no surprise of anyone, he’s
curled up on one of the napping mats, snoozing away. Jimin deliberates pulling
a prank, but thinks better of it with Sunhi holding his hand. He doesn’t want
to give the boy any ideas. He’s also stalling a little bit. He walks extra
slowly, it’s a leisurely stroll. Every step that takes them closer to the gates
has his heart lurching in speed. His fingers feel numb, and it’s when Sunhi
whines that he realises he’s been clutching on too hard.
Fortunately for Jimin’s sanity, the yard is empty and there are no more parents
waiting for their children at the gates to witness his breakdown. He takes a
look outside, down the street, but see no one coming around.
“Maybe we should give your mom a call,” Jimin hums, getting increasingly
concerned that Jeongguk had indeed forgotten his brother. “He should be here by
now, right? It’s been twenty minutes.”
“Hyung is busy sometimes,” Sunhi mutters, fiddling unhappily with the strap of
his little backpack. He’s close to tears and Jimin’s heart breaks.
“I’ll scold him when he gets here,” Jimin jokes to lighten the mood. He kneels
down beside the boy and gently fixes his hair from his forehead, smiling in
endearment. “If he doesn’t show up in five minutes, I’ll give your mom a call
and have her choose someone else to pick you up from now on.”
“W-Will hyung be mad?” Sunhi chews on his lip nervously, big eyes blinking back
tears.
“Not at you, never,” Jimin reassures.
When five minutes turn to six, Jimin’s gives up allowing Jeongguk more chances
to redeem himself. He’s gradually becoming less concerned of where he is and
angrier that Sunhi has been left stranded at the kindergarten. He’s about to
suggest they return inside when he hears the roaring of a motorcycle engine
come racing down the street. As it nears the gates, Jimin’s pulse quickens.
This is a school area, motorcycles were frowned upon. The moment Jimin peers
around the corner, he gets why.
“That’s hyung!” Sunhi gasps gleefully.
On instinct, Jimin picks Sunhi up from under his armpits and carries them both
a couple of paces back away from the gates, just in time for the motorcycle to
skid to a stop before them. Sunhi squeals, wiggling in Jimin’s arms as the
rider puts the bike in park and switches off the ignition.
From Jimin’s limited knowledge of bikes, he recognises it as a large Japanese
brand cruiser. With slick black paint and leather seats, it’s beautiful. He’s
almost offended someone would touch it, let alone ride it. The mechanics and
winding details that make up the bike has him slightly starry eyed. These days,
he’s more accustomed to seeing sports bikes riding through Seoul traffic.
Occasions where he gets to see a cruiser this big and magnificent are scarce.
The bike, gosh, the bike is gorgeous, however, it’s the rider that has his
blood running cold.
“Jeongguk-hyung!” Sunhi breaks from his arms to dash towards the newcomer at
the gates.
Jeongguk is wearing his helmet, his visor secured down. Jimin can’t see his
face. The rest of his attire is what Jimin would expect from a delinquent;
jeans ripped at the knees, wallet chain dangling on one hip. He’s in a leather
jacket, and Jimin swears his mouth goes dry. He’s taller. So much taller
compared to the last time Jimin had seen him. He has a few inches on Jimin,
about Namjoon’s height, perhaps just a little shorter than Namjoon, but tall
nonetheless. Jimin can already hear his eighteen-year old, hopeless romantic,
bad-boy-loving-self moan at the way Jeongguk crouches down on his long, long
legs to gather Sunhi up in his arms. His thighs are big and strong, stretching
under the tight denim.
“You forgot me!” Sunhi accuses, going up on his tip-toes to kiss the top of
Jeongguk’s helmet as he lowers his head for him. It seems to be their usual
greeting.
Jeongguk’s chest rumbles as he laughs. It’s low and muffled, but the sound has
Jimin wanting to rub his thighs together.
Noticing Jimin standing two feet away, Jeongguk pulls back from Sunhi to stand
up and remove his helmet. Jimin hadn’t noticed that he’d been holding his
breath this entire time.
Jeongguk is not the same boy. There’re subtle differences. His features are
sharper. He’s traded his baby fat for just about everything else that makes
Jimin’s stomach flip in on itself… He’s so fine. Jimin curses that he’s not a
good enough artist to do him justice.
Although Jeongguk’s grown into a man, his eyes have remained the same. Large
and black to add some innocence to his pretty face. There’s no escaping the
memories.
“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk greets, bowing more out of habit than actual courtesy.
Hearing his voice now clearer without his helmet, for the first time in years,
Jimin’s entire body flushes.
His blood rushes to his ears, throbbing with his pulse.
He’d left Jeongguk right at the cusp of the boy’s puberty. He’d been there for
the embarrassing voice changes, but he wasn’t there to hear Jeongguk come into
his own. He didn’t get to see Jeongguk become who he is today; a fine young man
that has more cut in his smile than in his teeth.
Jimin takes a moment to retrieve his jaw from the floor, hoping his smile is
friendly, rather than downright nervous. “Jeongguk-ah. Nice to see you again.”
“It’s been five years,” Jeongguk states, though his tone suggests they hadn’t
been apart at all. He’s familiar and warm. Not awkward like Jimin was
expecting.
“It has,” Jimin agrees with a nod, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater.
He’s suddenly reminded by the fact that he’s wearing moon patterns. All chubby
and pink in the cheeks standing next to someone who looks as though they’ve
recently stepped out from a television drama. “You’ve grown up so well – I
mean, you look good. Not that you didn’t before!”
Jeongguk smiles. His eyes glint darkly in a way that’s got Jimin wishing he
could turn tail and run back inside. “Thanks, hyung. You… look good too.” It
seems like he has more to say, but deemed it inappropriate.
Jimin blushes to his ears, a giggle bubbling up his throat. “I know, thank you.
But I…” he exhales softly, clasping his hands together, “I didn’t expect you to
get so tall! You’ve gotten so handsome!”
“I’d look better if I didn’t just get out of a five-hour class.” Jeongguk
flicks his bangs from his eyes, patting off some of the sweat collected on his
temples with the back of his hand.
“You’d look handsome no matter what.” Jimin rolls his eyes.
“Hah, you should see me in the mornings,” Jungkook says offhandedly.
“Okay.” It takes two seconds for Jimin to realise his mistake but Jeongguk is
already smirking. 
Jimin stares, horrified while Jeongguk does nothing to redirect the subject
from his humiliation. Jeongguk stares back, openly and without a hint of shame,
his gaze less amused and more wanting the longer Jimin splutters. Nothing has
changed. All those damning feelings, very much there, on the tip of Jeongguk’s
tongue – in the way he’s inching closer.
It’s different this time, however, because Jimin finds himself craving those
eyes on him.
“A-Anyway,” he squeaks, turning his attention to Sunhi, “why were you late? You
made Sunhi worry.”
Jeongguk pauses, glancing down at his brother, who’s taken to distracting
himself with his bike helmet. “My professor held me back for a bit. I didn’t
think I’d take so long, I’m sorry,” he apologises. He sounds so genuine that
Jimin accepts it wholeheartedly.
Jeongguk has that sort of allure about him. Always has. That unsullied, knee-
weakening draw in his sincerity, fake or not, that has often been the cause for
many of Jimin’s easily giving tendencies. The boy has a knack for getting what
he wants. If Jimin thought he was weak before.
“Just don’t let it happen again, okay?” Jimin sighs. “Sunhi really thought you
forgot him.”
Jeongguk hums quietly, placing a comforting hand on the back of Sunhi’s head.
The child grins up at them both, thoroughly entertained by the heavy helmet in
his arms. “What will my punishment be?” Jeongguk’s asks.
Jimin blinks. “Huh?”
“I made you and Sunhi worry. Will you punish me?” One corner of Jeongguk’s lips
twitch, his eyes never straying from Jimin’s for too long. It looks almost
physically painful for Jeongguk not to leer. His attention draining from the
world to smother over Jimin like hot molasses.
“I…” Jimin falters, both baffled and flattered under his heavy gaze. “I don’t
think you need to be punished... Sunhi was more upset than anything. Maybe you
can treat him to some ice cream on the way home. But, don’t give him too much
sugar!” he adds quickly.
“I can do that,” Jeongguk grants, his face lighting up with a subtle smile.
It’s mischievous, like he’d been hoping Jimin would react this way. 
“G-Good… Good,” Jimin mumbles, scuffing his shoes like a teenager faced with
his crush. He recognises how wrong and terribly fucked up this is. Jeongguk
hasn’t been here for more than five minutes and Jimin’s already swooning at his
feet. How pathetic.
“We should catch up some time, hyung,” Jeongguk says, his tone is tempting
enough for Jimin to cling to his every word. “My treat.”
Jimin’s first instinct is to say no. It’s what you do in these situations. He
should politely decline, return to his classroom and move on with his life. He
doesn’t need to reintroduce Jeongguk into it. He reminds himself of all the
trouble Jeongguk had caused his marriage with Namjoon; how toxic his behaviour
had been.
Then there’s that burn. That guilty, festering, mind-numbing burn in his
stomach when Jeongguk looks at him. Jimin’s chest is tight and there’s a
buzzing at the back of his head that is remarkably similar to Seokjin’s
disapproving voice.
“Ah, I’d love to, Jeongguk, but, I’m having a pretty busy week.” Jimin
internally pats himself on the back for not stuttering in his lie.
“Alright. How ‘bout next week?” Jeongguk persists. No surprise there.
“Next week… Next week, I…” Jimin racks his brain for something important. He
comes up short. Unless he counts his late-night dates with his bed and a
hundred adorable animal videos, he has no plans whatsoever.
It must show on his face that Jimin is lying, because Jeongguk immediately
takes his moment of weakness as an opportunity to make the decision for him.
“Next Saturday, we’ll go for some street food, I’ll pay.”
Jeongguk takes one of his wrists delicately, his other hand reaching into the
back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a pen. He catches a small sliver of ink
peeking from under Jeongguk’s sleeve when he moves. He can’t make out what it
is, but it’s no doubt a tattoo. One that reaches far up his right arm to the
side of his neck. Jimin gets a glimpse of a what he can tell is a constellation
peeking from his white collar.
Jimin shivers at the skin to skin contact, captivated by the way the leather
jacket seems to act like a second skin on Jeongguk, giving around the bulge of
his bicep.
Good lord.
“Here’s my number,” he says as he’s writing the digits down on Jimin’s wrist.
He’s oddly gentle, like he’s scared to touch. The pen tickles and Jeongguk has
to go over a few of the numbers a second time when his cautiousness doesn’t
leave a mark. He’s close, too close. Bent slightly over Jimin’s whole arm as if
the process of giving a phone number was that precious to him.
Cute.
“Uh…”
“You can have all the food you want.” Jeongguk is all too serious as he says
this.
“I’m older, you shouldn’t be bribing me with food,” Jimin snorts, “and what if
I don’t want to call you?”
“Texting is an option,” Jeongguk replies coolly, straightening up into Jimin’s
personal bubble. Here, he’s much more handsome. It’s honestly overwhelming how
good-looking Jeongguk is up close, looming over Jimin so effortlessly. “It’s
okay if you don’t wanna call or text. It’s still nice to see you, hyung,” he
drawls.
Jimin swallows his needy whimper and the bile rising in his throat. He’s
nauseous and turned on. Not exactly the best combination. It’s still wrong. Oh,
so, very wrong. He doesn’t want to think what it’ll do for his reputation at
the kindergarten let alone with Jiyeon. Well, she already has a pretty low
opinion of him anyway. She already blames him for stealing her first husband,
Jimin is tempted to see how red she’ll turn when she discovers he’s taken her
eldest son too. Wouldn’t that be so satisfying?
Regrettably, his good conscience wins out.
“You should take Sunhi home, Jeongguk. It’s getting late,” he sighs, clearing
his throat to hide his tremor.
Jeongguk’s mouth twists sourly, eyes narrowing. “Sure.” He nods, tearing his
attention away back to Sunhi, who has now taken a seat on the ground, the
helmet on the floor with his body draped over it. He’s already dozing off. “I
guess we’ll see you tomorrow, Jimin-hyung.”
Jimin silently nods back, curling his fingers into his palm, the sharp press of
his nails keeps him grounded. He watches Jeongguk walk back to his little
brother, carefully picking the boy up from the ground to set him on his feet.
Sunhi whines, arms flailing up, wanting to be carried. Rather than indulge,
Jeongguk slips the helmet on him before leading him away to the bike.
Jimin gasps as he realises what’s happening. Truthfully, he should’ve seen this
coming. He should’ve questioned it the second Jeongguk rolled up on the thing.
With gentle prompting, Sunhi climbs onto the back of his older brother’s
motorcycle, the heavy helmet causing his head to loll with the weight.
“Is that safe?” Jimin frowns worriedly up at Jeongguk, his lip caught between
his teeth. “I don’t think the police will allow that.”
Jeongguk’s eyes flicker down and bravely lingers there, his own lips twitching
into a smirk. “If we go fast enough, they won’t see us.”
“Jeongguk, that’s so unsafe.” Jimin shakes his head.
Jeongguk laughs through his nose, swinging back onto the bike. He belongs
there. He looks at home there. “Jimin-hyung, relax. The house is only a couple
of blocks away. I go slow anyway.”
Unconvinced, Jimin frets to make sure that Sunhi holds onto Jeongguk tightly,
instructing the boy to be extremely careful. Sunhi is too sleepy to respond,
which makes Jimin panic more. Jeongguk watches him the entire time, amused eyes
following every twitch on his face.
“Please, please, stay safe,” Jimin pleads.
“If you’re that worried, why don’t you come with us?” Jeongguk cocks his head.
“You could wrap your arms around me, hyung.”
Jimin’s neck and cheeks bloom red. “S-Stop kidding around and make sure your
brother gets home!” he exclaims, swatting Jeongguk’s shoulder in weak
exasperation. “Go!”
“Next time then,” Jeongguk breathes.
Jimin holds his tongue. He gets the feeling he’s walked himself right into a
trap.
 
The first chance he gets, once he’d saved Jeongguk’s number to his phone, he
relays the encounter to Seokjin and Taehyung. They’re not as agreeable with his
decision to turn Jeongguk down as he thought.
“The problem is Namjoon. What will he say if he finds out I’m dating his son?”
Jimin groans, burying his face in his hands. He hadn’t wanted to tell his
friends anything at all, but they’d wring it out of him one way or another. “I
was there for all of Jeongguk’s birthdays when we were married. I loved the kid
like he was my own. If Namjoon finds out…”
“Fuck, Namjoon.” Seokjin frowns, nodding in grim understanding.
Taehyung, after cracking open a can of cola, joins them at the staffroom table
a second later, snorting when he hears Seokjin’s comment. “He did that
already.”
“Be serious.” Jimin whacks him on the arm, earning a painful yelp. “This is a
bad idea, right? It’s definitely wrong.”
“What’s so wrong about it?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “He’s a grown man,
you’re also a grown man. You’ve both changed.”
Jimin picks at a thread on his sleeve. His cheeks haven’t cooled in ten
minutes, he’s starting to think he’s getting a fever. “It’s weird. Going out on
a date with the kid you’ve seen grow up? It’s just – it’s weird, okay?”
“You still thought about it, though, didn’t you?” Taehyung points out with a
waggle of his eyebrows.
Of course he has. Coming face to face with Jeongguk had reminded him of how
long it’s been since someone has shown that much interest in him, and so
intensely. He’s gotten out there once or twice, allowing Taehyung or Seokjin to
set him up on the occasional blind date, which had always ended in sheer
disappointment. No one’s been this assertive with him in, well, ever. He likes
it too much. That’s in the moment, though. Thinking back on it, he’s
embarrassed by how fast it took Jeongguk to make him swoon.
“Pft… knew it,” Taehyung laughs.
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Jimin, you don’t have to go out on a date with him.
It’s catching up, right? Nothing wrong with that. The kid probably wants to see
how you’ve been doing. Sounds pretty innocent to me.”
Jimin bites his lip. He’s held himself back from spilling the full story.
Neither Seokjin nor Taehyung are in the know about Jeongguk’s odd habits as a
child. Not that he doesn’t trust them per se, he simply believes no one other
than himself needs to be burdened with that sort of information. “I’m not… sure
it’s a good idea.”
“Why?” they ask.
“I don’t know. J-Just the way he said it. Sounded like he was thinking of more
than just ‘catching up’.” He shrugs.
“What? You mean, like, he wants to cop a feel?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow.
“That’s the general vibe, yeah,” Jimin says, throwing his hands in the air.
Seokjin grips his shoulder, lending some brotherly comfort with a squeeze. “Why
don’t you think about it first? He can wait for your answer, there’s no rush.
The ball’s in your court, right? While you think about it, you should get to
know a little more about Jeongguk when he comes around for Sunhi. Nothing
major, just a five-minute conversation.”
Jimin nods slowly, letting go of his anxiety out of exhaustion. He doubts any
conversation he has with Jeongguk will ever be just five minutes.
“You should snatch him up before someone else does,” Taehyung tells him,
nudging his elbow into Jimin’s soft side.
“What?” Jimin laughs incredulously. “Were you listening at all? It’s weird!”
“So what? If you’ve come to us for this, then you’ve thought about it. You’re
just here because you want us to talk you out of it.” Taehyung grins teasingly.
Jimin is forced to admit he has a point. 
 
Jeongguk takes Jimin’s words to heart, arriving five minutes early to pick
Sunhi up the next day. The second Jimin steps out to say goodbye to the kids,
Jeongguk finds an excuse to stay behind to speak with him. Jimin makes it a
point not to look his way until all the parents are at a distance from them.
Once he does, Jeongguk is already watching him.
Face darkened under his black cap, it adds to the eeriness of the way
Jeongguk’s eyes trace each of his steps. Despite having a child holding onto
his hand, Jeongguk remains to be the most intimidating person within the yard.
Though the single mothers and fathers that pass through give him a few
appreciating glances on their way out, they keep themselves at a distance.
Jeongguk has more than several piercings and tattoos on show, he’s not harmless
by any means. And Jimin almost laughs, because out of all the pretty faces that
could’ve gotten his attention, Jeongguk hasn’t once turned his gaze elsewhere.
It’s so easy to be poisoned, he thinks. Jeongguk hadn’t done much at all.
“I’m sorry I didn’t text,” is the first thing out of his mouth.
Jeongguk shrugs. “Didn’t expect you to. Can’t say I’m not disappointed though.”
Jimin inhales, holds it until his chest is full, then releases it in a sigh.
“Jeongguk, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to…”
“To what?” Jeongguk’s tone is cold, his face more so.
 “To – you know – to catch up,” Jimin insinuates, throwing around an array of
vague hand gestures that Jeongguk doesn’t quite follow.
“Are you implying you thought we were gonna fuck?” Jeongguk asks bluntly.
Thoughtlessly, Jimin lunges forward to cover his mouth with a hand, his neck
twisting left to right in seek of any on-lookers or eavesdroppers. Thankfully,
Sunhi is busy saying goodbye to his friend, ignoring them both. Once the coast
is clear, Jimin loosens his grip on Jeongguk’s jaw.
“Don’t say stuff like that around here,” he scolds softly.
He’s twenty-one again, dealing with a rebellious teenager who constantly has an
air about him that says he’s waiting to devour him. Jimin, this time, wouldn’t
mind that too much.
So he’s thought about. Instead of his typical bedtime routine of cat videos,
Jimin spent his night conversing with his ceiling. He’d talked for an hour with
his unresponsive partner, convincing himself that the right thing to do was to
reject Jeongguk from the start. He’s not a kid anymore. Jimin’s consideration
of his feelings end here. A grown man should be able to handle rejection. Then,
he actually considers it and wastes an hour with his hand in the back of his
pyjama pants.
Slicker and looser than a whore, he embarrassingly reminds himself. All because
Jeongguk has a bike and a few tattoos.
“You thought we were gonna fuck on the first date?” Jeongguk mutters from
beneath his hand, his lips pursing warmly against his palm. Featherlight and
sweet.
“I – well, I – I just… we weren’t? That’s not what you wanted?” he asks
timidly, dropping his hand and his head in shame. Did he read this whole
situation wrong? Truly, he should’ve thought it through better.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk sighs, “if I wanted to fuck you on the first date, I wouldn’t
have suggested street food.” Preventing Jimin from moving away any further,
Jeongguk rests his hands lightly on his hips. His strength is minimal, but the
statement is clear.
“O-Oh…”
“Besides, I didn’t think food would make you turn into an easy lay anyway,”
Jeongguk admits, his breath fanning over Jimin’s lips. “From what I remember,
it usually took at least a glass of whiskey for you to drop to your knees like
a-”
“Shut your mouth!” Jimin roughly pushes away from him, humiliated and a little
hot.
“I’m kidding,” Jeongguk chuckles. “I just wanted to catch up. I wanted to know
how you’ve been. You didn’t call or come by the house after the divorce. You
disappeared and I got worried.”
Giving himself something to do, Jimin brushes down his cream-coloured sweater
of invisible dust. There’s no doubt he’s guilty. He should’ve made more effort
to see Jeongguk after the divorce, but it was scary. He was scared. The fact
that Jeongguk had a hand in the issues arising in Jimin and Namjoon’s
relationship made it difficult for Jimin to look back. That doesn’t mean he
feels less remorseful for being selfish.
“I’m sorry, Jeongguk. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I…” he pauses, choosing his
words wisely, “I got caught up in getting my life back together. I wanted to go
back, I promise, I did…”
“But you didn’t,” Jeongguk finishes for him, his madness mostly restrained.
Except for the fire in his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jeongguk. It mustn’t have been easy for you.” Jimin
stops himself before he gets started again. The setting is too inappropriate
for this conversation. If he’s going to apologise properly. “Listen, this isn’t
the best place to talk about this. You should go take Sunhi home. We can’t be
having this discussion out here.”
“Then go to dinner with me,” Jeongguk demands. “Don’t you owe me that much? I
spent years wondering if you were okay. You didn’t call or drop by the house.
And I waited for you,” he says, getting progressively more desperate as he goes
on. “I thought you would come back.” 
Jimin swallows around a lump. He’s told himself this already. Jeongguk isn’t
saying anything that he already doesn’t know. He’d ran away, and it hurt
Jeongguk more than he realised. Despite all the dramatics, Jeongguk loved him.
Jimin left him. And now they’re here to deal with the aftermath.
“I – I’m sorry –”
“Stop. Stop saying you’re fucking sorry. If you were sorry, you’d do something
about it,” Jeongguk growls.
This is the first time Jimin’s been snapped at. Jeongguk hasn’t once raised his
voice at him. His expression is clouded, annoyed. Jimin almost reminds him this
is only the second time they’ve seen each other. He can take a few more
rejections.
“Jeongguk, I said this is not the place to talk about this,” he says lowly,
peeking over to Sunhi to make sure he’s kept busy.
“No, this is the perfect place.” Jeongguk crosses his arms over his chest. He’s
adamant, somewhat childish.
The adrenaline coiling at the pit of his belly tells him to keep going. Make
Jeongguk angrier, make him do something about it. Jimin’s being so difficult,
so indecisive. If he pushes Jeongguk far enough, he might snap. And he imagines
how that would go, how complacent Jeongguk would be to get to do as he wishes.
God, his mother was right. He is a little whore. He loves going for the men
he’s not supposed to have; setting himself up for hurt and heartbreak. One of
the many things she was right about it seems. Not that he minds.
“Take Sunhi home,” he sighs defeatedly, taking steady steps back away seeing as
Jeongguk had continued to crowd in closer with each sentence between them. He
can’t risk being grabbed again. He’ll never leave if Jeongguk has him. “I’ll
think about it. I’ll let you know.”
Jeongguk’s face is contemplative. Unhappy, but not angry either. He wants to
say something, Jimin can tell. He almost asks, wanting to hear what Jeongguk
has to say, if he’ll snap at him again, or if he’ll simply make the choice for
him. Jimin catches his whimper before it drips from his lips. He aches knowing
how much he wants that. He’ll regret the thought later, but with him here, all
that registers is how dilated Jeongguk’s pupils are.
“Whatever you want, hyung.”
 
It really shows how weak-willed Jimin is when he decides to accept Jeongguk’s
offer by the end of the week. How intimate would the occasion be with a plate
of chicken feet between them? Jimin sees no harm in it. Jeongguk didn’t
specifically call it a date either, there’s no need for Jimin to think of it as
one. Plus, with those big puppy eyes, he was bound to give in sooner or later.
The week has gone well. He marvels at how easy it is to fall into pace with
Jeongguk again. How effortless.
He’s happy that he’s taking his first step to making amends, however, he’d be a
lot happier if Jeongguk was actually present. He was doing so good being on
time for Sunhi. Just yesterday, he’d ran all the way from campus to be on time.
Panting, red, and glistening with sweat, he’d asked Jimin again if he’d made up
his mind. No. He hadn’t that day, and Jeongguk did not look all too pleased by
it. Another apology was made, but Jeongguk didn’t bother to accept.
That night, Jimin sank his teeth into the pillow, two knuckles deep inside
himself, humping his bed like a bitch in heat. All for the split second of icy
contempt that appeared on Jeongguk’s features.
Perhaps it’s his years of sexual depravation that’s made him so wanton. His
career was the first thing on his mind after he left Namjoon. From there, it’s
been a lonely road. He’s been too scared to contact his family. He can’t step a
foot in Busan without the onslaught of crippling self-pity. Getting a boyfriend
was the last thing he needed, or desired. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss it.
Seeing Jeongguk again, seeing him so grown up, mature, Jimin’s entire body
stirred. In no more than ten minutes, Jeongguk managed to have Jimin ready to
open his mouth for whatever he’ll give him.
And a twisted part of him had grinned. He’d groomed himself the perfect man.
He’d curled up in the shower an hour later after it all, skin rubbed pink and
raw, but no regret in sight. It hurt too good.
He wants more. He’s so selfish.
However, Jeongguk hasn’t shown up for Sunhi. It’s been almost thirty minutes of
Jimin reassuring the boy that his brother must’ve gotten held behind in class
again, yet he’s a no show. Sunhi does cry this time, sniffling into Jimin’s
shoulder as he clings to him. Jeongguk’s forgotten him too many times, Jimin is
beginning to suspect he doesn’t care much for Sunhi at all.
“I’ll give him a call, okay? I’m sure he’s just busy.”
The line rings for no more than a few seconds before Jeongguk picks up. The
first thing Jimin notices is the clinking of tools in the background. There’s
also music playing in the distance, soft in tune and kept low. Jimin can’t tell
where Jeongguk is, but it certainly isn’t in a classroom.
“Jimin,” Jeongguk says, breathless, almost in awe that Jimin had truly called.
“Hyung…”
“Jeongguk, where are you? You didn’t come to pick up Sunhi. It’s been nearly an
hour,” Jimin scowls.
“Shit,” the other hisses under his breath. “I’m sorry, hyung. I lost track of
time. I have my hands full now, can you drop Sunhi off at my place?”
“Y-Your place?” Jimin splutters. “Jeongguk, that’s not a part of my job. I
don’t just drop off kids at their houses. You were supposed to be here to pick
him up. If you can’t even do that…”
“One time, hyung. I promise, this will be the first and last time. I’ll text
you the address. It’ll take five minutes,” Jeongguk says. He’s not begging.
There’s no real urgency or apology to his words, which makes Jimin wonder what
he’s up to. “I’ll make it up to you.”
The warmth in Jimin’s face dribbles down to his stomach to smoulder. Jeongguk
could say anything, one word and Jimin’s heart would give in. He doesn’t
remember being this terrible when Jeongguk was younger. It’s sickening.
Jimin heaves a sigh. “Fine. We’ll be there in about ten minutes. You owe me,
Jeonggukie.”
“I always do, hyung.”
True to his word, Jimin drives Sunhi down to Jeongguk’s place with the
instructions he’s sent. They’re quiet in the car. Jimin more so due to his
anxiety, while Sunhi wipes away his tears. It’s futile when more spill out to
replace them, and Jimin so desperately wants to climb into the backseat and hug
him tight. There isn’t much he can do other than remind Jeongguk that
forgetting Sunhi again will lead to a permanent cold shoulder.
He’ll be lucky he lasts that long though.  
“Park-seonsaengnim?” Sunhi sniffles.
“Yes, Sunhi-ah?” Jimin gives his best smile through the rear-view mirror while
keeping his eyes on the road.
“C-Can I go home instead?” he asks.
It takes Jimin a second to understand that Sunhi means his mother’s home, not
Jeongguk’s. “Your brother told me to drop you off at his place.”
“I-I…” he hiccups, “I don’t wanna see hyung.”
“What’s wrong, Sunhi? Why do you not want to see your hyung?” Jimin stops at
the red light to turn in his seat, cooing when he sees Sunhi with his little
fists rubbing his puffy eyes.
“H-Hyung keeps forgetting me,” he cries softly, his body shivering in
distraught. “I don’t like hyung anymore.”
Jimin takes a deep breath. Abandonment seems to be a theme in this family.
“I’ll scold him for you, okay? I’ll make sure he knows this time,” he says.
“I’m sure he knows that it was wrong of him to forget you. If you want, I’ll
let you scold him too. You can tell him, ‘bad, hyung!’, and slap him on the
wrist.”
Sunhi giggles at Jimin’s playfulness, rubbing away the rest of his tears on his
shirt sleeve. His cheeks are so round and ruddy as he smiles that Jimin swears
he’s going backwards in time. The resemblance between Jeongguk and Sunhi
dispels any doubt that they’re brothers.
“Bad hyung!” the boy squeals. 
Jimin chuckles along. “That’s right. Bad hyung!”
They arrive at a cosy little home five minutes later. Not what one would expect
of a man that comes from a family of money, Jeongguk’s house is quaint. Jimin
would bet anything that Namjoon is the one providing his son with rent.
Jeongguk is still a college student. There is no way he can afford this from
his own wallet, no matter how cheap it may be. And Namjoon has always been
particularly weak to Jeongguk’s wants. No longer having to vie for Jimin’s
affections, Namjoon has most likely gone back to doting on his son.
Seeing no clear sign of Jeongguk, he checks his phone again to confirm that
Jeongguk had indeed instructed them to go straight into the garage at the
front. Wandering in further, that’s exactly where they find him. Crouched and
hidden behind his cruiser, Jeongguk is oblivious to their presence for two
whole minutes, consumed by his work on his bike. Jimin can’t see what he’s
doing, but he can tell how careful he’s handling the tools. Every caress of his
fingers along the leather seats has Jimin more curious as to what he’s up to.
He’s precise and cautious, his long fingers lovingly tracing over the exhaust
pipes, polishing them down until they shine. They’re new, Jimin notes. They’re
sleeker than the ones he’d seen a few days ago.
Jimin clears his throat. “Are we interrupting?”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up instantly, a lazy smile blossoming on his lips at the
sight of Jimin. He looks worn, but content among the mechanical parts littered
all over the garage. He belongs here. “No. Of course not.” He sweeps one half
of his bangs from his eyes, smearing his cheek and forehead with dirt.
“I believe you forgot a certain someone at school,” Jimin says, gesturing to
Sunhi, who is clinging to the side of his leg. He can feel the boy’s fingers
lightly pinching the skin of his thigh with how hard he’s holding onto him.
“You owe Sunhi an apology.”
Jeongguk gets up on his feet and rounds the motorcycle in two long, purposeful
strides, tugging down the towel draped over his shoulder to wipe his greasy
hands. He’s in a dirty plain white t-shirt and jeans, both of his short sleeves
rolled up to his shoulders to show off his biceps. Like this, his tattoos are
anything but subtle. Unconcealed by clothing, it seems the night sky has
disappeared entirely in favour of living – thriving on Jeongguk’s skin, a black
canvas exploding with all of Jimin’s dreams.
It takes the breath right out of his lungs.
There are stars and constellations scattered all over in intangible beauty,
travelling way up to his neck to end an inch below his jaw, tracing down over
the veins along his forearms to fade out at his wrists. Jimin remembers how
bare he’d been only years before, untouched in only one sense of the word. Lord
knows Jeongguk was never pure. And it fits him so well, to be painted, to have
something so lovely inked into him.
Jimin feels warm and dizzy. The one bright, genuine love in his whole life is
now on the skin of a man that is his filthiest form of desire. He stands three
steps away, looking like he would rip the stars from his flesh if Jimin asks
him to.
“Do I?” Jeongguk’s lips quirk slightly, catching onto Jimin’s ogling.
Jimin tears his gaze down to Sunhi, clearing his throat to compose himself. “Y-
Yes. Sunhi got very upset because you didn’t pick him up today. I think you owe
him a big apology. This is the second time you’ve made him sad, Jeongguk. You
can’t keep doing this to him. If this goes on, I’ll have to ask your mother to
send someone else to pick Sunhi up from now on.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jeongguk says, throwing his towel back onto his
shoulder while he kneels down to his brother’s height. He opens his arms,
beckoning Sunhi over.
The gesture isn’t sincere, but Sunhi doesn’t know this. He runs straight into
Jeongguk’s arms, curling up in the comfort and scent of engine oil on his
brother’s shirt.
Jimin frowns disapprovingly with a shake of his head. “Jeongguk, I’m being
serious. If you keep forgetting, I’ll have to talk with Jiyeon about this.
Dropping off kids isn’t my job. You’re supposed to be more responsible than
this.”
Jeongguk ignores him, opting to whisper something in Sunhi’s ear before letting
him down. The boy gives Jimin a quick bow, then races off into the garage to
run through a door further inside, leaving Jimin and Jeongguk alone. It’s so
sudden, Jimin doesn’t know what to do with himself. Without Sunhi here, keeping
them in line, Jimin is beginning to squirm.
“Are you done?” Jeongguk lifts an eyebrow, looking infuriatingly amused.
“No. No, I’m not done,” Jimin huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly. “How could
you make your brother cry like that? What could’ve been so important that you
left him for an hour?”
“He’s fine. Sunhi doesn’t hold grudges.” Jeongguk shrugs. “Give him some ice
cream after dinner and he’ll forget all about it. And, I get distracted easily,
I’m sorry. Thank you for dropping him off, hyung. I’m grateful,” he says,
practically growling his appreciation.
Jimin swallows audibly. “R-Right, w-well, just be more careful next time. I
don’t wanna remind you again.”
“Ah, wouldn’t want that…” Jeongguk nods slowly, taking a seat on his bike while
unabashedly regarding Jimin up and down. “I’ll try to be more careful, promise.
Can’t say I won’t miss seeing you chew me out though.”
Jimin rolls his eyes to distract from his flushed face. “What were you doing
anyway?”
“I was installing new exhaust pipes, and doing some light maintenance here and
there,” Jeongguk explains, lightly tapping the side of the bike’s fuel tank
with a knuckle. “It shouldn’t have taken me so long, but I can never keep my
hands off her when I get started.”
“Her?” Jimin smiles, endeared.
“Yeah.” Jeongguk is staring. Always staring, even after he’s caught, he waits
for Jimin to look back. “I got her for my nineteenth birthday after dad missed
my eighteenth when he was overseas. She’s been my baby ever since. Beautiful as
she is just standing here, she’s scarier on the road. I don’t like to go
anywhere without her.”
Jimin hums. “What’s her name?”
“Why would you think there is a name?” Jeongguk smirks.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“She doesn’t have a name.” Standing up, Jeongguk smooths his hands over the
handlebars, turning his back to Jimin, giving him a peek of the rest of his
tattoo snaking around to his shoulder blades. “I just call her ‘Baby’.”
“Fitting.” Jimin admires the cruiser from a distance.
“Do you wanna touch?” Jeongguk looks back, his smirk implying that the bike was
not the only thing being offered. Jeongguk isn’t subtle with his games, Jimin
knows he’s being lured in.
Rolling the scent of engine oil over his palate, he squares his shoulders and
approaches. He waddles more than anything, trying to step over tools left on
the ground. He’s about to reprimand Jeongguk for his carelessness, especially
with a child around, when his toe catches something, tipping him forward.
Jeongguk is there in a flash, his arms out ready to catch him. Pink in the
face, Jimin goes hurtling into Jeongguk’s chest, throwing away reality and his
last bit of dignity behind him. They stand like that for a bit, Jimin too
humiliated to say anything, his hands fisting in Jeongguk’s shirt for dear
life.
It used to be the other way around. Jimin comforting Jeongguk. Now, Jeongguk
can easily pick him up with one arm.
“Forgot you could be pretty clumsy,” Jeongguk grumbles, the sound deep and firm
and right by Jimin’s ear. Jeongguk’s fingers flex where they are at Jimin’s
sides, his nails scraping delicately over the fabric of his dress shirt by his
ribs.
Jimin gives a visible shiver.
“U-Uh…”
Jeongguk doesn’t loosen his grip and Jimin doesn’t bother to push away. He’s
too busy scooping up his pride from the floor, willing the redness in his
cheeks away when he feels Jeongguk’s breath rustle the hair at the top of his
head. His heart is racing under Jimin’s palm, though a beat slower than Jimin’s
thunderous one, he’s happy he’s not the only one affected. So there they stand,
still, quiet, breathing together. Jimin wants to sink into a hole, but if
Jeongguk allows it, he’d like to stay this way for a while longer.
“… God, I missed you, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers lowly by his ear, his lips
lightly grazing the shell. He winds his arms more securely around Jimin’s
waist, tugging him flushed to his body.
Jimin is compliant, soft and heated. He takes a deep inhale of the scent of oil
and Jeongguk’s cologne, his chest burning pleasantly. It fogs his mind and
melts away his judgement. He’s too close, and from here, Jimin can already name
a few constellations dotted along Jeongguk’s shoulder to his collarbone.
“Whoa…” His breath ghosts over Jeongguk’s tanned, moist skin, eliciting a
shiver that Jimin feels transfer right down his own spine.
“…So, what time should I pick you up tomorrow?”
Jimin blinks himself out of his stupor. “Huh?”
Jeongguk chuckles. “Saturday? What time?”
“O-Oh.” Jimin lifts his head carefully, eyelashes fluttering at the tightening
grip on his hips.
“I was thinking,” Jeongguk says without waiting for his answer, “seven o’clock?
If you wanna drink, I can meet you at the train station nearest to your
building. Unless, you want me to pick you up at your apartment. Anything you
want, hyung.”
“Um… Train station,” he mutters. “The train station… I’ll meet you there at
seven.”
Jeongguk nods, finally appeased. “Make sure you show up, Jiminie-hyung.
Otherwise I’ll just go chasing after you.”
He stiffens, not out of terror, rather due to the growing hardness at his hip.
He’s big. Jimin almost asks how big.
The unmistakeable warning under Jeongguk’s disarming smile has Jimin swallowing
around a moan. Jeongguk has a knack for that, baring his kindness on the
surface, while everything else that’s filthy and disgusting lays beneath it,
ready to swallow Jimin whole. Sweet as honey until he doesn’t get his way.
Funny how Jimin seems to forget each time, for only his memories to come back
right after Jeongguk’s eyes have clouded over and his hands lock around him.
Then it’s too late. It’s a cycle which he gladly falls for.
“Is that a promise?” Jimin pulls Jeongguk’s arms from around his waist. He
steps out of his embrace while he’s stunned, and staggers his way out of the
garage without a single goodbye.
He doesn’t know how far Jeongguk’s infatuation goes this time, he realises too
late. If Jimin is still the same love he had years ago, or he’s now just a cock
warmer. He’d always taken Jeongguk’s declarations of love with a grain of salt.
No kid that young would know what a relationship would entail, and years ago,
Jeongguk was too much of a child to know how to take Jimin the way he should;
Jimin had relied on that. He depended on the fact that Jeongguk was too young,
too immature, too much of a boy to get what he wanted, because if he hadn’t
been a child, Jimin would’ve given in.
It slips his mind entirely as he’s making his way back to his car that Jeongguk
knew where to find the closest train station to his apartment when he’d told no
one outside of his immediate friend group of where he lives.
 
Saturday evening finds Jimin getting to the station five minutes early to
discover that Jeongguk had beaten him there. Not wanting to be seen quite yet,
Jimin shuffles to blend in with the crowd.
Jeongguk looks impatient. He’s glancing at his watch, and tapping his foot and
scowling, effectively scaring the nightly commuters from walking into his
direct vicinity. If Jimin didn’t know any better, he’d think he was late.
Jeongguk’s committed to seeing this through, and he doesn’t doubt that he would
go searching for him if need be. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Deciding to end Jeongguk’s suffering, Jimin separates from the crowd and waves
to gain his attention.
“You’re late, hyung.” Jeongguk stalks over, his boots thudding loudly. Not a
care in the world for the eyes that follow his back, Jeongguk’s sole focus is
Jimin.
“I’m three minutes early!” Jimin pouts, shoving his hands into the pockets of
his coat.
He misses the way Jeongguk stops breathing.
“C’mon.” Jeongguk takes his wrist and drags him along, squeezing twice to warn
Jimin that escaping wouldn’t be the best idea. “The train will be here soon.”
Jimin smiles into the collar of his coat at his impatience.
Jeongguk sticks to his back the entire trip to Hongdae. Squished into the
corner of the train, Jeongguk acts as a protective barrier around him, while
Jimin is forced to squeeze between Jeongguk’s body and the door. He’s being
suffocated, his back to Jeongguk’s chest to watch the city lights race by. He
has no clue where they’re going. He hadn’t asked. He’s just happy to be out
again.
“Hyung, make sure to hold onto something,” Jeongguk murmurs into the back his
head, one arm coming around to splay his hand over Jimin’s stomach.
He feels the tingles linger at the top of his spine, and his natural response
is to squirm. “Jeonggukie, I can’t breathe,” he whines, bracing his hands on
the door, his face near enough to be pressed up against the glass as Jeongguk
tightens the space between them. In an attempt to give himself breathing room,
Jimin pushes his lower-half back against Jeongguk, hoping he’d get the idea.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk only pushes in further, his other hand sliding up to
rest next to Jimin’s significantly smaller one.
“I got you. Don’t worry.”
Jimin glances around them, at all the impassive faces of bystanders that could
turn around at any second and catch them. He whimpers quietly, curling his
fingers when Jeongguk’s thumb brushes along the back of his hand. What does
Jeongguk think of him now? He’s not pushing him away or screaming to be
released. He’s so quick to be pressed into submission. Jimin shudders. Jeongguk
could grind up against his ass while everyone watches, whispering degradingly
into his ear and Jimin wouldn’t protest. Would he call him a slut? Jeongguk
would know how easy it is to get him to open his legs, and eagerly put on a
show. Jeongguk would know what was best for him. He’s always did. He knows
Jimin can’t last long without a cock in his mouth to suckle on.
“We’re almost there,” Jeongguk says, his reflection in the window leering back
at Jimin.
He hangs his head, disgrace marring his cheeks in red. His eyes have glazed
over, and there’s a haze turning his mind into a jumbled mess. A thick sort of
mist that appears to shrink his whole world, forcing him into obedience.
He stumbles when the doors open. Fortunately, his weight is balanced out by
Jeongguk’s hand on his stomach to keep him flushed to his front. It stays as
they’re walking out of the station, his grip bruising on Jimin’s hip. He
silently prays that he’ll see the imprints in the morning.
“So, where are we going?” he eventually asks.
“There’s a barbeque place I wanna try out. That’s okay, right?” Jeongguk cocks
his head down at him.
“Wait, no street food?” Jimin frowns.
“I think you deserve a little better than street food,” Jeongguk says, smiling
insistently.
“Hm. Sure. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out for barbeque.” He nods, nearly
getting his ankles tangled trying to match Jeongguk’s strides.
“What – no dates this month?” Jeongguk teases.
“Shut up,” Jimin thumps him gently on the chest, “and no. I haven’t been on a
date in a while. No one to keep my interest for long.”
Jeongguk snorts, looking far too smug. “No one’s good enough for you, hyung.”
Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Not even you?” he laughs, nudging
Jeongguk with his hip.
Rather than the playful response he’s expecting, one corner of Jeongguk’s lips
twitches arrogantly. “I never said that.”
They find a barbeque place not too crowded a few blocks from the station. The
moment they arrive, they’re hastily seated in a private room made for a party
of six. Jeongguk has no hesitance in paying more for it, throwing his cash
around before he’s escorting Jimin away with a possessive hand on the small of
his back. Suppressing his old instincts to run from the prospect of being in an
unfamiliar room, alone with Jeongguk, Jimin comments that it would be
unnecessary to get a private room, but Jeongguk replies that he’d rather not be
interrupted. He refrains himself from telling him that they would be
interrupted either way, but who is he to pass up the chance to be spoiled?
“You don’t want to sit beside me, hyung?” Jeongguk frowns when Jimin goes
around to the other side to take his seat on the floor.
“Huh? O-Oh. Should I?” Jimin blushes, halfway with unbuttoning his coat.
“Come sit here.” Jeongguk pats the spot beside him. “I’ll cook today so you can
relax.”
Jimin gives a shaky grin. “You know how to grill the meat properly? The last
time we went out for barbeque together, you almost burnt all the food.”
“I was thirteen,” Jeongguk retorts. “I’m not a kid anymore, if you haven’t
noticed.”
Jimin sighs. “I’ve noticed.”
Jeongguk offers his hand to him, bringing Jimin around to sit on the same side.
Their thighs touch, and the room grows intimately warm.
During the time it takes for Jimin to get comfortable, Jeongguk has ordered
half of the menu. The waitress is struggling to keep up, spluttering and
blushing through writing down everything thrown at her. Feeling bad for her,
Jimin places a hand on Jeongguk’s thigh, causing him to come to a stuttering
halt.
“Jeongguk-ah, slow down,” Jimin soothes. “We have time.”
Grateful, the waitress scurries away to bring their order. Once she closes the
screen door behind her, Jimin removes his hand. Or, he would have if Jeongguk
hadn’t grabbed it before he was able to. He doesn’t say anything as he smooths
Jimin’s shorter fingers over his thigh again, trailing his own between the
digits as though he wants them intertwined.
He works fast, as if he’s afraid Jimin will run away, which admittedly is a
possibility.  
Jeongguk sighs happily. “I’ve missed you, hyung.”
Jimin smiles bashfully. This is second time he’s said so. “How much could you
have really missed me? Not many kids miss their step-parents,” he laughs.  
Jeongguk’s smile drops, and his brows furrow, clearly offended. “Why would you
say that?”
He fumbles for a reasonable answer. Why would he think that? “I don’t know.
Kids just… get over their crushes, if I was one. I don’t know.” He shrugs.
His words don’t do much to assuage Jeongguk’s displeasure at the implication.
He looks more upset than ever. “You thought I would forget you that easily? You
were my family, hyung.”
Such a bold claim.
“Your mom and dad were your family, Jeongguk. Sunhi is your family. I haven’t
been a part of that in years, so, can you blame me for thinking you’d
forgotten?” Jimin mutters, sliding his hand from under Jeongguk’s.
“Yes. I can,” he grits through his teeth. “No one loved me like you did. My
parents could barely give a shit about me, but you…” Jeongguk stops himself,
reeling in his anger and frustration in case he does anything rash. He speaks
too often without a filter. His emotions are reckless even in his twenties.
This isn’t the sort of conversation Jimin wants to have with Jeongguk at a
restaurant. Their problems run too deep, and the issues that have accumulated
over the years shouldn’t be discussed over grilled beef. This is not what
people do when they go out to catch up. Jimin’s meant to be getting to know
Jeongguk’s new hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his life in school, not
recalling the taboos of his relationship with a scarily possessive underaged
teen.
“Kids forget things all the time. First loves come and go. We were both pretty
young,” he says, retreating his hand before Jeongguk can take it again. “I
married your dad the second his divorce with your mom was finalised. I got
myself into something I was too childish to deal with. We both made mistakes,
that’s what kids do.”
“Kids?” Jeongguk scoffs, sneering at the insinuation. “I was fifteen when you
divorced dad. You thought I was a kid? I could’ve fucked you at fifteen.”
Jimin gasps, scandalised. “T-That’s not – Jeon Jeongguk, you s-shouldn’t say
that – I – You could not have s-slept with me at fifteen! I am six years older
than you! I would’ve gone to jail, Jeongguk!” he hisses, keeping his voice down
in the event that someone walks by their door.
Jeongguk shrugs, unbothered. “Any dick is good dick to you, isn’t that right?”
Jimin sits in stunned silence, his jaw hanging open. He doesn’t get to linger
on the hurt pulsing in his chest before it’s drowned in rage. “Is that what you
think of me?”
“Isn’t that what you think of yourself? You weren’t exactly protesting when I
pressed up against you on the train,” Jeongguk quips, picking up his glass of
water to take a casual sip. “You really haven’t changed, have you, hyung? Would
you still bend over without question if my dad asked you to?”
Jimin splutters, unable to come up with a good rebuttal.
Jeongguk’s smile is vindictive. “Would you bend over if I asked you to?” 
The waitress arrives in time to see Jimin chugging his glass of water, his face
and neck a blotchy red. She daren’t ask what had happened while she was gone,
only lingering for a few minutes to turn on the grill and set down all their
side dishes. In the meantime, Jimin refuses to make eye contact with Jeongguk,
quietly sipping the beer he’s given.
Their meal together is not so tense that Jimin would call it stifling. The mood
is light, but the intensity in the way Jeongguk keeps him close reminds him of
who he’s with.
It turns out Jeongguk is just as terrible at grilling meat at the age of twenty
as he was at thirteen. He grumbles about it for a whole fifteen minutes while
Jimin cooks for them, insisting that he wants to try again.
Their new server makes it worse. After Jeongguk had thoroughly scared the girl
they had originally, the restaurant had sent someone else to deal with them. A
young man a little older than Jeongguk, who could’ve probably rivalled him in
looks if Jimin wasn’t already so ensnared by Jeongguk’s malicious scowl.
The waiter is too friendly for Jeongguk’s liking, almost too generous when he’s
speaking with Jimin. He cracks too many jokes, and touches Jimin’s arm too many
times. Unlike Jeongguk, he’s able to charm laughter out of Jimin. And maybe
Jimin plays it up a little. He giggles and blushes, covers his mouth with his
hand as he throws his body around in laughter. He can feel Jeongguk’s eyes
drill a hole in the back of his head, so he waits for him to do something. Mark
his territory. Take what’s his.
“You can go now,” Jeongguk snaps when the waiter stays for an unwelcomed amount
of time.
“Jeongguk!” Jimin shoots him a look that can hardly be called stern.
“Hah, it’s alright. I should leave you to your meal,” the waiter says, standing
up to head to the door. “I hope you enjoy the food!”
“T-Thank you!” Jimin calls after him.
The silence they’re left with is smothering. For five minutes he shifts his
weight from one side to the other, flustered under Jeongguk’s glare. He hasn’t
glanced away from Jimin for the whole three hours they’ve been here. Jimin
feels like he’s about to melt through the floor.
“We should head home soon,” he says, watching Jeongguk pick at the charred
pieces of meat on the grill. They’re both a little tipsy from the six bottles
of beer they’ve ordered between them, and Jimin’s inhibitions are lost
somewhere in the smoke of the stove.
“Okay. Yeah. We should.” Jeongguk nods reluctantly. He takes his last shot of
soju and scrubs a hand down his face warily.
“Don’t do that,” Jimin says gently, nudging his wrist away.
Jeongguk captures his hand immediately, cupping it with both of his own. His
hold is loose, Jimin can pull away at any time. The freedom Jeongguk gives is
frightening, yet pleasantly surprising. It means Jimin is being given a choice;
he’s not used to that. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was stupid and I
just got angry. I won’t do it again,” he says, eyes big and devoted.
“I-It wasn’t stupid,” Jimin replies without a second thought.
“It was, hyung. Sometimes it’s just hard to hold my tongue around you.”
Jeongguk turns his whole body towards him, his lap looking so inviting Jimin’s
toes curl. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“I didn’t deny it,” his voice drifts to a whisper, peering up at Jeongguk under
his eyelashes. He knows he must look eager. Quiet and docile, hoping he’ll get
to feel those large hands on a different part of him – all over him. His ears
are hot, and the alcohol makes his bones loose and his heart brave.
Jeongguk is fixated on his lips, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his own.
Jimin shadows him, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, lashes fluttering.
The air fogs with impulsive desire and momentary abandon, stuffing Jimin’s
tummy full of heat. For a second, it looks like Jeongguk is about to close the
gap between them, looking so devastatingly wound-up from the mere sight of
Jimin’s cherry red bitten lip that his breath hitches. Jimin whimpers
encouragingly, eyelids falling shut, expecting something he shouldn’t.
“We should go home first,” Jeongguk groans before forcefully wrenching himself
away.
Jimin stifles his petulant whine, fingers twitching in need to reach out and
ask him to come back. Jeongguk doesn’t let him, he’s terribly cruel that way.
So he sulks all the way back to the train station, his stilted steps causing
him to giddily bump into Jeongguk’s chest for every corner they turn. He
watches him without amusement, his breath on Jimin’s neck and his hand searing
through his clothes. He nods through Jimin’s babbling, bumping his nose
affectionately against his jaw any chance he gets, and Jimin can’t help but cup
his face to keep him close, the night air adding to his disappearing sobriety.
They find that their train is mostly empty at this time of night. There are a
few stragglers in their own corners. They don’t pay the two much mind as
Jeongguk walks him in until his back hits a bar. He laughs without reason,
gripping the lapels of Jeongguk’s leather jacket as he buries his face in the
crook of Jimin’s neck, breathing him in.
Jimin sinks his hands into Jeongguk’s soft brown locks, running his fingers
through it until it’s satisfyingly ruffled. He’s sure he left his coherency
somewhere back at the restaurant because he can’t give two fucks where they are
and what they’re doing. It’s new and exciting, yet familiar and profane all at
once. Jeongguk mains a child somewhere in his memories. Being with him as a man
feels somewhat blasphemous.
“Fuck, you don’t know how long I waited, hyung,” Jeongguk growls into his
throat, nosing up to his jaw to hover above his lips.
“I’m guessing long enough,” Jimin breathes, though he doesn’t know how because
he’s sure his body stopped functioning a while ago.
“Too long,” Jeongguk says, brushing the tip of his nose against his. A sweet
gesture for the daring position they’re in.
“I thought you wanted to go home first? We shouldn’t do things here,” Jimin
hums despite what his body craves. “We have to wait.”
“Fuck waiting,” Jeongguk snarls.
Jimin sniggers as he steps out of the embrace, his hand pushing lightly at
Jeongguk’s chest, keeping him at arm’s length. Jeongguk gives him a kicked
puppy look that he ignores. “I don’t put out on the first date, baby.”
Jeongguk groans gutturally at the pet name, legs bending as if he’s about to
fall to his knees right then and there. Jimin wouldn’t put it past Jeongguk to
beg him for sex. He’s curious to see what that would look like. Jeongguk isn’t
the most patient, so how long can he keep him at bay before he’s dragged
forward by his ankles and fucked like an animal? He’d love to know.
“You’ve waited years, I think you can go on for a few more dates.” Jimin’s arm
strains to keep Jeongguk in place as the train moves, jostling and wobbling
them on their feet.
“So, you agree this was a date?” Jeongguk perks up, grinning triumphantly. He
grabs the bar beside Jimin’s head to steady himself, trying to close the
distance again.
“This was a trial at best.” Jimin rolls his eyes.
“What’s the verdict? Can I take you out on a proper date next time or not?”
Jeongguk asks, quirking an eyebrow. “I bet I can convince you to go out with me
either way.”
“So cocky,” Jimin snorts, worming away to take a seat. “And… I don’t know. I’ll
think about it.”
Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair, smoothing down the stray strands
sticking up atop his head. As he’s about to take the seat beside Jimin, a hand
stops him. A small hand that curls sinfully into his stomach, preventing him
from approaching. He looks down at Jimin, who’s sleepy eyes peer back at him,
gleaming with mischief and temptation.
“Stay,” he says, and Jeongguk does, holding himself up stiffly when Jimin’s
fingers gently stroke over his abs through his shirt. Jeongguk’s standing so
close he can slot right between his thighs.
“Sit.” He points to the row of seats opposite him.
Neither asking what or why, Jeongguk plops down on the seat directly in front
of Jimin, waiting obediently for any further instructions. It’s too late once
he realises what he’s being subjected to. Jimin is having none of his whining,
he can’t protest.
“You can’t control yourself,” Jimin states, crossing his arms and legs
simultaneously. Truthfully, he’s being pretty hypocritical. He was a kiss away
from letting Jeongguk do whatever he wished. However, one of them must be
responsible.
For the ten minutes it takes for the train to arrive at their station, Jeongguk
barely lifts a finger. At one point, Jimin is tempted to ask if he’s okay,
seeing as how he hasn’t blinked in a while. Jimin’s positive he makes it worse
by staring back, the intensity in Jeongguk’s eyes matching the lava boiling in
his gut. He resembles a ravenous dog chained to a fence, his teeth not quite
bared, waiting to be provoked. The greatest test to his control.
Jeongguk is good. He stays, fuming, under Jimin’s watch, long fingers fisted in
his lap, his knuckles white and straining. He’s gotten greedy, Jimin thinks.
Probably not used to being denied skin contact for so long. He’s showing signs
of early withdrawals.
“This is unfair,” Jeongguk grumbles. “I wanna touch you.”
“You haven’t earned it,” Jimin replies. His heartbeat weighs a ton in his
chest, thumping painfully against his ribs. Jeongguk can hear it, Jimin will
bet anything that he can. If not, then he’ll surely figure out why Jimin has
his legs crossed.
“I should be able to touch you whenever I want,” Jeongguk huffs indignantly.
Jimin sighs. He isn’t faring much better. He’s practically writhing under
Jeongguk’s gaze, his cock twitching in his slacks. He’s red again, all the way
down his chest, he can feel it; reaching far, far below where his arousal
simmers in his groin. He wants nothing more than to crawl between Jeongguk’s
legs and take, take, take.
“Jimin,” Jeongguk gruffly calls when the train stops to open its doors. He
sounds strained, barely held together. “How long?”
He purses his lips, earning a twitch from Jeongguk. “It’s a five-minute walk to
my apartment, Ggukie.”
Jeongguk nods rigidly and follows Jimin off the train. His hands stay clenched
at his sides, but he walks too close for comfort. Jimin strolls ahead without
turning to look at him, the cool breeze biting through his coat to remind him
of his self-control. Arriving at his apartment, he goes straight into the
building to lead them to the elevator. Upon getting on, before the doors have
closed, Jeongguk lunges for him.
“Why did you do that?” Jeongguk groans from where his face is hidden in Jimin’s
neck again. His cold nose presses into his skin, provoking a shiver from them
both. “Why would you do that to me?” His arms cling snugly around Jimin’s
waist, his restraint gone.
Jimin keens softly, clenching his hands into Jeongguk’s back. “I wasn’t about
to be arrested on a train.”
“It would’ve been worth it,” Jeongguk mutters. Although Jimin’s floor doesn’t
take long to reach, Jeongguk crowds him into the corner in case someone hops on
with them, his face not an inch away. They breathe harshly in the space they
have between them, flushed and needy, so prepared to indulge at the slightest
movement.
Uncertain of what this will lead to, Jimin allows Jeongguk to walk him to his
door. His steps are already mapped on his floor, navigating his way to Jimin’s
apartment with ease. He should be incredibly suspicious, however, his
intoxicated mind and the tightness of his slacks are a bigger distraction.
Plus, with the way that Jeongguk is mouthing at his neck, all hot, and wet, and
bruising, doesn’t allow for much thought.
“God…” Jimin gasps. His fingers dig desperately into Jeongguk’s shoulders,
tugging him in until there isn’t a part of them separated. He needs it. He
needs to feel his bones ache in the morning, to see his skin littered with dark
bruises, long fingers, and teeth marks. He wants to be dripping from his mouth
to his hole, stuffed full, his belly filled and warm and bulging with Jeongguk.
“Where’s your key?” Jeongguk bites the words into his jaw.
Jimin moans deliriously, tipping his head back for his neck to be ravaged. “U-
Um… Pocket… in coat…”
Jeongguk rummages for a while, his fumbling fingers grasping at nothing, more
occupied with the way Jimin is rubbing up against his thigh. Jeongguk growls
and slams his hips forward to render Jimin immobile. They can both see his cock
fattening in his jeans, big and bulging. Jimin cants forward restlessly, his
fingers pushed away the moment he brushes along Jeongguk’s zipper.
“You want me to fuck you outside in the hall?” Jeongguk grits out.
Jimin whines in response, lips parting prettily for something Jeongguk can’t
yet give. His rule of not putting out on the first date has obviously flown out
the window.
“…Jimin?” a familiar voice inquires from his right. Seems they’ve woken up his
next-door neighbour with their obscene noises.
After a few long, drawn out minutes of catching his breath, Jimin manages to
blink himself back to a state where he’s able to tear himself from Jeongguk,
straightening out his clothes so his coat conceals most of his hard-on. He
steps around hastily, wobbling. He brushes off Jeongguk’s irritated frown due
to the interruption, biting his tongue from agreeing. “H-Hoseokie-hyung!”
“Hey.” Hoseok smiles sheepishly, glancing between Jimin and Jeongguk. “I
thought I heard noises.”
“Hi. Yeah. Sorry. We – I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Jimin apologises. Giving
himself this time to cool down, he makes a point of not looking at Jeongguk,
otherwise he’ll be back to jumping his bones without considering what it’ll do
later. He’s relieved that Hoseok interrupted. The man has saved him from doing
something stupid.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
Hoseok’s been his saviour since he’s moved into this building. He’s there
whenever Jimin is in a crisis. From broken refrigerators, to the faulty AC, to
a lonely night. The best neighbour he could have. And here he is again, in his
orange fluffy bathrobe and pyjamas, unknowingly adding some sense into the
situation.
“It’s cool.” Hoseok shrugs. “Did you have a good night out?” he asks, his eyes
trailing back to the looming figure that is Jeongguk at Jimin’s back. Any
normal person would be scared, Hoseok on the other hand is unperturbed by
Jeongguk’s glaring presence.
“Y-Yeah. Yeah, we did – I did.” Jimin nods vigorously.
“That’s good. I told you, you needed to get out. It would do you some good to
go and relax once in a while.” Hoseok beams, leaning casually on his door,
knocking askew the adorable chalkboard he has hanging in front. His way of
brightening up their dreary floor, he’d once told him.
Jimin keeps it to himself that the inspirational quotes Hoseok so lovingly puts
effort into aren’t well received by anyone but Jimin.
“Right,” Jimin agrees. “O-Oh, er, this is Jeongguk, by the way. Jeon Jeongguk.”
Leaning over Jimin’s shoulder, Jeongguk reaches out to shake Hoseok’s hand.
Regardless of how harmless Hoseok appears, Jeongguk keeps his other hand
insistently on Jimin’s waist, digging into the soft fat at his sides.
“Ah, right. I’ve seen you around. It’s nice to finally meet you!” Hoseok grins
to his cheeks, brighter than life. So out of place at midnight.
“You too.” Jeongguk doesn’t return the smile, his face remains indifferent from
the corner of Jimin’s eye. He appraises Hoseok from his fuzzy slippers to his
unkempt hair, not all too impressed with what he sees.
Hoseok’s kindness falters. His smile fades. Though not the biggest threat yet,
Jeongguk exudes malice and danger, the glower on his face deep enough that
Jimin can feel it. He’ll have to apologise to Hoseok later because he fears he
can’t do much about Jeongguk’s rudeness now.
“S-So, Jiminie, will I see you at the studio on Monday? You still wanna learn
the choreo for the play next month, right?” Hoseok quickly changes topics to
avoid the awkwardness permeating the air.
Jimin is happy he’d done so. “Yeah! For sure! I’ll be there after school. And
thank you for taking the time to do this for us, hyung. The kids will have a
blast.”
“Hey, no problem! It’s a date then. I’ll bring kimbap.” Hoseok gives him an
enthusiastic thumbs up.
Jimin grins from ear to ear, which seems to snap something in Jeongguk.
“…Anyway, we should let you get back to sleep,” Jeongguk cuts in, fishing the
key out from Jimin’s pocket to swiftly unlock the door.
“O-Oh… er…”
Not bothering to wait for Jimin to say goodnight or let him adjust to suddenly
being moved, Jeongguk gently pushes Jimin into his apartment despite his soft
protests. When Jimin tries to spin around again, Jeongguk blocks his path with
an arm on the door, face hardening before he glances over his shoulder.
“Goodnight, Hoseok-ssi.”
 
While they don’t go much further than stolen looks over the weekend, there’s…
more to them. It takes Jimin the majority of Sunday afternoon working through
the sluggishness of drinks the night before to let go of the memories of the
doe eyed child that had loved the stars for him.
That had been hours ago. There’s no semblance of that child anywhere within
Jeongguk now.  
“I wanna kiss you so fucking bad,” Jeongguk rasps from the other end of his
couch. Perhaps he’d spoken too soon.
Not trusted to be in reaching distance, Jimin had banished him to sit in the
furthest spot away from him when he’d suggested they watch some television.
Neither of them are paying attention to the movie playing. Jimin’s too occupied
with making sure Jeongguk doesn’t misbehave, while Jeongguk tries to coerce him
into moving closer. Jimin can see it on his face that Jeongguk doesn’t really
care what he says. He’s merely humouring him for a time, giving Jimin a small
amount of control so that he thinks he has the upper hand. One way or another,
Jeongguk will kiss him.
“You’re not allowed to touch me again for ten more hours.” Jimin rolls his
eyes.
“So many rules,” Jeongguk says, eyeing Jimin’s ankle that is extended over the
unoccupied space on the couch. His hand inches towards it, hoping to pull Jimin
to him. “I thought we were past this. I should get to kiss you whenever I want
to.”
Jimin tucks his legs under himself before Jeongguk can get him, the bowl of
popcorn on his lap jumping in fright at the speed. “You’re going too fast. Just
because I said I would give you a chance, doesn’t mean you get to do whatever
you want to me.” No matter how much he wants it.
“Wouldn’t you love that, hyung?” Jeongguk taunts. “I swear I can take such good
care of you.”
Jimin throws a handful of popcorn at him. “Too fast.”
“Not fast enough,” Jeongguk sighs, daring to scoot over. He can’t go all the
way, he’ll be kicked for sure, but he can be near enough to feel the heat
radiate off Jimin’s glare. “I bet you would never say ‘no’ again after I do.”
“Probably not.” Jimin pouts. Jeongguk is confident and Jimin finds it fruitless
to deny anything. “But you’re not kissing me until I let you.”
“I don’t think I need to ask for permission.” Jeongguk’s smirk sends a
lingering chill down his spine. He doesn’t need to ask for anything, Jimin
wouldn’t oppose, he just doesn’t want Jeongguk to know that.
“Don’t test me, Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin says warningly.
Sighing in his defeat, Jeongguk leans over to plop his head onto Jimin’s lap.
Deeming it harmless, Jimin lets him stay. He tangles his hand back in
Jeongguk’s hair, humming sweetly as Jeongguk turns to bury his face into
stomach. His eyes are closed, and when his arms wind securely around Jimin’s
waist, his fingers tap down to follow the raised curves and bumps that make up
Leo. It covers half of his inner forearm where it has its own space, large and
proud.
His wandering fingers find Scorpius under Jeongguk’s shirt sleeve on his
shoulder next, leading up to Aries on his neck, half hidden by his collar. He
assumes the rest are somewhere on his back.
“How long did it take you to get these?” Jimin asks, brushing Jeongguk’s bangs
from his forehead with his other hand.
“Months. Probably a year,” Jeongguk answers, cracking one eye open. “I’d
planned it all out ever since you got me that constellation book. Mom had a fit
when I came back with the first one. I think she almost screamed as much as
when I told her I was going to art school.”
Jimin laughs. “What was your first tattoo?”
“Virgo and Libra,” Jeongguk answers. His lack of hesitation is what makes Jimin
blush.
“W-Where is it?” he dares to asks.
“Take my shirt off and you can find out for yourself.” Jeongguk raises his
eyebrows up at him, his lips curling into a smirk.
Jimin lightly thumbs his shoulder, face turning away so that the glare from the
television will hide the bright colour in his cheeks. Jeongguk laughs
haughtily, craning his neck to kiss the side of his wrist.
“You still have the book?”
Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, I still have it. It’s always sitting on my nightstand.” 
Jimin smiles. His memory of his gift for Jeongguk’s fifteen birthday is
somewhat foggy. The boy had gotten many things that year, from game consoles to
smartphones. He remembers being rather saddened that his gift didn’t match the
extravagance of the others. “I didn’t think you were that into stars. I knew
you were playing along with me most of the time. You must’ve been real bored,”
he laughs.
“I was never bored. You were always worth it.”
Later, when the bowl is empty, their bellies heavy, and the television is shut
off, Jimin shows Jeongguk to the door. He whines all the way there, bargaining
with Jimin to let him stay for one more night. Jimin is too flustered to say
yes. The last time he’d let Jeongguk into his bed, things took a turn.
Sleepy and warm with a blanket thrown around his shoulders, Jimin waves him
goodbye, but before he goes, Jeongguk is leaning in. He stops a hairsbreadth
away for the tips of his bangs to brush along the bridge of Jimin’s nose, and
smiles.
“Jiminie-hyung,” Jeongguk calls tenderly.
“H-Hm?”  
“Your neighbour…” Jeongguk begins, his gaze roaming down to his lips to flicker
back up. “There’s nothing between you two, right?”
Jimin is frozen. His tongue is heavy. They haven’t brought up Hoseok since
their encounter yesterday. Jeongguk didn’t ask about him nor did he mention
him. They’ve been too caught up in each other to talk about anything else,
however that doesn’t mean Jimin hasn’t been apprehensive. He’d seen this
coming. “No. Of course there’s nothing between me and Hoseok-hyung.”
Jeongguk spares a small smile, his eyes darkening. The air around him crackles,
choking Jimin in its lethality. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. I
wanted to make sure is all.”
Tensely, Jimin nods. “There’s nothing, Jeonggukie. I promise.”
“I believe you, hyung,” Jeongguk coos, placing his lips to Jimin’s jugular. All
teeth, no lips. More vicious than loving. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”
Jimin anticipates the bite, but it never comes.
 
To make a statement, Jeongguk drops him off at Hoseok’s studio on his bike.
It’s the first time Jimin has ridden on Baby, and she’s as accommodating as he
expects. She purrs, fierce and beautiful between his thighs. She makes it such
a smooth journey, Jimin stalls for five minutes, clinging to Jeongguk’s back
after they’ve parked to sit in the comfort of her leather seats. He thinks
perhaps he’s more in love with her than Jeongguk is, but that’s not possible,
because Jeongguk practically worships her. Not exactly the same way he does to
Jimin, but it’s near enough he can make the comparison.
Jeongguk promises him a lesson on how to ride some time, his hand engulfed
around Jimin’s to keep him for longer. Hoseok, Jimin realises later on, stands
watching them by the door, a concerned frown adorning his face at the
predatorial way Jeongguk regards him. Like a piece of meat, Hoseok would tell
him once in the studio. Jimin laughs it off in hopes that it’ll ease some of
his friend’s worry.
“I just want you to be careful, yeah?” Hoseok pleads. The crease between his
brows seems so out of place that Jimin tries to smooth it over with a thumb.
“Jeongguk won’t hurt me, hyung,” Jimin reassures in absolute confidence.
“I’m not worried about him hurting you. Not physically anyway.” Hoseok walks
away to the stereo in the corner, leaving Jimin on the floor to do his
stretches, his mind swirling in ominous confusion and annoyance.
It shouldn’t be any of Hoseok’s business how Jeongguk behaves with him. It’s no
one’s business.  
Jimin isn’t ignorant. He’s aware of how corrupt Jeongguk can be. It would be
more alarming if Jimin didn’t welcome it. His friend worries no matter how much
Jimin insists he’s fine. There’s no convincing Hoseok unless he proves it, but
Jimin knows he can’t. It’s irritating. Although Jeongguk hasn’t done anything
too extreme to warrant panic, there’s no mistaking the disturbance and madness
whenever Jimin is near.
Hoseok calls Jeongguk ‘unstable’ one day, and Jimin agrees.
 
Their dates are nothing short of wonderful. Jimin looks forward to every one of
them.
Jeongguk hasn’t asked for a kiss again since their first. He waits for Jimin to
initiate it himself. It’s not that he’s patient, it’s not that he’s letting
Jimin go at his own pace. He’s waiting to see how long it’ll take for Jimin to
break, because Jeongguk’s already there.  
It doesn’t happen on their third, or fourth, or fifth. It happens on their
sixth. Caught in the doorway of Jimin’s apartment, his hands on Jeongguk’s
chest, he pecks his lips clumsily. Jeongguk was on his way out when Jimin had
stopped him, leather jacket draped over his shoulder, mouth wet and pink and
tingling for something to touch. He didn’t plan it; he didn’t give a crap of
when or where they do it, he’s just been wanting to kiss Jeongguk since he took
him out to karaoke earlier that night.
His lips are soft. He tastes of the roasted walnuts they had at the bar,
satisfying. It’s perfect. And despite it being more chaste than a child’s first
kiss, Jimin is breathless. Does he dare to ask for more? He’s already shaking.
God, he wants another taste, but Jeongguk isn’t moving to take over. He’s
stock-still in Jimin’s grasp, he can’t tell if it’s shock or he’s waiting for
Jimin to do it again.
“J-Jeonggukie…” Jimin whimpers, fingers idly playing with the buttons of his
shirt.
Jeongguk inhales slowly through his nose, his arms lax at his sides, refusing
to hold Jimin like he wants to. “What, hyung?”
“I-I… K-Kiss…” Jimin goes red in embarrassment. The lack of alcohol in his
system makes this more mortifying. He doesn’t understand why Jeongguk isn’t
having his way with him already. He’s essentially throwing himself at Jeongguk,
sober, san-minded, and needy, yet Jeongguk makes no move. “P-Please… kiss me.”
He can tell it takes every fibre in Jeongguk’s being for him to stay composed.
Is he being harsh because Jimin has kept him waiting for too long? He’s here
now, right? He can have him.
“Why would I wanna do that, hyung?” Jeongguk asks, his face unkindly impassive.
Jimin isn’t sure if he should answer. He does anyway. “Didn’t you want to? I… I
want you to. Please, Jeonggukie, kiss me.” He’s humiliated. To have to beg to
be kissed. He can feel his stomach coiling into knots. It burns so good, the
coldness of Jeongguk’s stare, like Jimin’s beneath him, unworthy to be touched.
“I don’t think you really deserve it,” Jeongguk sighs tiredly.
Desperate to keep him here, afraid that he’s bored Jeongguk, Jimin tugs him
down until their noses brush. “I-I do. I deserve it. I’ve been good. Please.
Please, I want you to kiss me,” he says tearfully, bottom lip trembling in
threat of tears, looking up under his lashes to find Jeongguk’s eyes searing
through him.
“Can’t you do it yourself?” Finally, finally, Jeongguk wraps a hand around his
hip, his touch warming up his back.
“C-Can I?” Jimin asks uncertainly, lips parting in an ‘o’.
Jeongguk is motionless when Jimin leans in, plush lips covering his plump lower
one. Careful and timid. Jeongguk doesn’t close his eyes, but Jimin does. He
takes it slow, tilting his head to the right to get a better angle, to feel
every inch of Jeongguk’s unmoving lips. Jimin gets frustrated quickly. Being
denied of the heart-stopping kiss that he wants, he throws his arms around
Jeongguk’s neck and tangles his fingers in his hair.
Jeongguk is merciless.
“You’re so greedy, hyung,” he mocks against his lips.
Jimin’s breath comes out in shallow puffs, grasping at life as he beseechingly
pushes against Jeongguk’s mouth. The tiny bit of movement he’s granted has him
moaning contently. Though Jeongguk isn’t fully responding, Jimin only has to
press up bodily against him for Jeongguk’s breath to quiver on his tongue. The
kiss tastes of nothing but flesh now, hot and pulsing with his heartbeat.
“Mm…” Jeongguk eventually gives in. Melding his lips harder over Jimin’s, he
kisses deep with enthusiasm. He’s making these pleased little groans at the
back of his throat, all gruff and animalistic that has Jimin’s cock jumping in
his jeans.
Once he feels the first swipe of Jeongguk’s tongue, Jimin shivers.
“Finally,” Jeongguk sighs.
“Mm… M-More… More, Jeonggukie, I want more,” he mewls.
“Fuck… you drive me crazy,” Jeongguk growls around his tongue, shoving Jimin
back against the door to devour his mouth.  
Jimin fiercely holds on, overwhelmed by the sudden vigour that’s seeped into
the kiss. He can’t keep up. He’s losing air as Jeongguk’s sucks and bite at his
bottom lip, tugging him forward with his teeth. Jimin is lost in his delirium,
relying on Jeongguk’s strong arms around his waist to keep him from falling to
the floor.
He’s the first to pull away, leaning back as Jeongguk’s chases for another
kiss. Jimin giggles happily, his chest heaving. He’s on a high, body flushed
and cock about to burst through his zipper. Jeongguk still has his eyes closed,
taking levelling breaths while Jimin’s fingers come up to brush over the little
mole under the swell of his lips. They’re red and slick, puffing hot air over
Jimin’s cheek. He pecks them again, and again, and again. If he lingers for
more, Jeongguk will have him for the rest of the night. Despite his grumbling,
Jeongguk leans into them, licks them up the second their pressed to his skin.
“We should stop,” Jimin breathes, placing one more to his cheek. With his heart
in his ears, his voice is silent.
Jeongguk’s eyes open slowly. “Let me stay, hyung. I wanna take care of you,” he
says, his hand sliding in between them to palm Jimin’s bulge.
Jimin gasps, jolting forward to bump their foreheads together. Jeongguk gazes
back at him expectantly. They’re more than ready for this. Jimin’s been fucking
himself with toys every other night for weeks, screaming into his pillow in
aggravation. Jeongguk would be far better than any toy. Then again… “W-We can’t
today. I have to be at school early tomorrow for the play. I-I’m sorry,
Jeonggukie. I would let you stay – I would let you – if tomorrow wasn’t so
important.”
Disappointedly, Jeongguk retreats, his arms dropping from around Jimin. More as
a precaution than a rejection. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s fine. You should go
get some sleep then. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”
Jeongguk leaves him with one last kiss. This one deeper than the last. There’s
no sweetness to it, just teeth biting him hard enough to bleed. Jimin’s back
meets his door once more, the oxygen knocked out of his lungs twisting into
broken moans. Jeongguk devastates his mouth, kissing him until Jimin is limp in
his arms. He says goodnight minutes later, standing outside to watch Jimin
disappear.
Still recovering, Jimin fails to notice the sound of a door opening to his
right.
 
Convincing young four to five-year olds to sing and dance for an audience goes
as well as Jimin would expect. There are tears, screams, and the few shredded
pieces of costumes littered behind the stage. His kids are whining every five
minutes, he has Seokjin screaming stage directions to his right, while Taehyung
is bawling as he’s sewing on the buttons of a fairy costume for one of the
toddlers to his left. There are some parents missing, which results in more
tears. Things go wrong one by one, and Jimin doesn’t get the chance to check if
Jiyeon and Jeongguk are in the audience to watch Sunhi sing. He’ll pray that
they’re there because he doesn’t want to have to wipe the tears of another
child.
By the end of the show, he’s seconds from collapsing.
The dressing room is where Jeongguk finds him. Sunhi is there already, the last
to change out of his costume. He’s drowsy, falling asleep on his feet. It takes
some encouragement for the boy to stay awake long enough to get his shoes on.
“You did good out there.” Jeongguk says from the doorway. He’s traded his
leather jacket for a blazer and his ripped jeans for pressed slacks. Under the
right lighting, Jimin can nearly see the black mass that are Jeongguk’s tattoos
through his shirt. Jimin is almost incensed that he can look this good.
“Are you talking to me or Sunhi?” Jimin turns his back to him as he folds and
hangs the costumes up for storage.
“Both of you,” Jeongguk chuckles, stepping in to gather his little brother up
in his arms. The boy falls asleep immediately, drained from the long hours of
dancing.
“Sunhi always does good,” Jimin says, pivoting around to fall onto a chair.
“The sweetest baby,” he coos.
Jeongguk arches a brow. “I thought I was your sweetest baby?”
“You’re my big baby. Not always the sweetest,” Jimin teases. The day’s
activities have zapped all his energy away, he can’t bring himself to stand up.
Too lazy to move, he beckons Jeongguk over after glancing out the door to check
for any witnesses, and pulls him down into a long kiss. He’s disappointed that
they can’t go further with Sunhi in the room.
“Are you free tonight? I wanna treat you for all your hard work,” Jeongguk
purrs, his nose bumping affectionately against Jimin’s. He straightens back up
after a few pecks despite the pout Jimin sends him.
So infuriating. 
“Actually, I’m not. The teachers were planning on going out for drinks
tonight.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. He’s unsure of how Jeongguk
will take the news. “I – I mean, they – wanna thank Hoseok-hyung for teaching
the kids the dance.” Jimin’s words are rushed in the explanation, his voice a
slight slur. He prays that Jeongguk won’t notice. He’s made his opinion on
Jimin’s neighbour quite clear. Jimin hasn’t told him yet that the sentiment is
returned on Hoseok’s end.
“Ah…” Jeongguk’s mouth twists bitterly. He’s biting the inside of his cheek,
probably his tongue too. Jimin would call him cute if he didn’t seem so angry.
“I’ll be with a bunch of other people, Jeonggukie. It won’t just be me and
Hoseok-hyung,” he’s quick to assuage Jeongguk’s annoyance. He runs his hand up
his arm, giving his bicep a firm squeeze. “Seokjin-hyung and Tae will be there
with me. I’ll stay for an hour at most.”
“I didn’t say anything, hyung.” Jeongguk’s eyes soften at his attempt to
appease. “Go have a good time. Call me when you’re done so I can come pick you
up.”
He’s shocked to say the least. Jeongguk’s had a particular distaste for a lot
of people in his life, even Seokjin and Taehyung. He’s curious to ask why. As a
child, Jeongguk wasn’t this bad, then again, Jimin didn’t go out of the house
much for him to behave so suspiciously. The one time he’s shown this much
distrust was towards Namjoon. No one in Jimin’s life is safe from Jeongguk’s
scrutiny.
“Thank you, baby.”
Although Jeongguk has made no other comments on his outing with his friends,
Jimin senses he’s not happy. He kisses him for longer during their goodbye,
hand curled at his hip, latching onto his neck when Jimin runs out of breath.
He leaves somewhat of a glaring hickey. Too high for Jimin to conceal it with
his coat. The brand of Jeongguk’s mouth stays with him for two hours, a promise
of what’s waiting for him at home.
Jimin wouldn’t get home until eleven at night.
A combination of Taehyung and Seokjin’s persistence, shots, and the high of
being amongst his friends is his downfall. They convince him to stay for food,
then proceeded to feed him bites of everything they’ve ordered, pinning him
down in his seat and blocking his exit from the booth. The second he mentions
Jeongguk, worried that he might be staying awake for him, Hoseok requests that
he sing a duet with him on the karaoke machine. One song, he says, already
tugging Jimin out of the booth. One song turns to three songs, and food turns
into more drinks and drunken stupidity.
In his boozed-up state, it had entirely slipped his mind to text or even call
Jeongguk to reassure him that he was fine. He wouldn’t get to see his boyfriend
again until he comes to pick him up at the front of the bar, face so impossibly
emotionless that Jimin almost cries. He doesn’t remember who had called
Jeongguk to retrieve him, but there’s a fifty percent chance that it was him.
“Jeonggukie!” Jimin staggers out into the night air upon seeing Baby pull up to
park, his nose pink and eyes glassy as he falls into Jeongguk’s waiting
embrace. “You’re here!” he chirps innocently.
“Yeah, I’m here.” The hard set of Jeongguk’s jaw has him suddenly alert. He’s
not smiling. He’s not greeting him with the kiss he’d hoped for. Jimin’s eyes
are too clouded to focus, but he knows Jeongguk isn’t overjoyed about his
drunkenness. “Jimin.”
Jimin answers with a small squeak.
“Stay here, yeah? I’ll be right back,” Jeongguk growls, setting him aside to
head straight into the bar.
Jimin doesn’t hear from him for a solid ten minutes. He waits in the cold by
Baby, stroking patterns into her seats to keep his mind occupied. He tries to
get a sneak peek through the window at the front of the bar, however, Jeongguk
is nowhere to be seen. As he’s debating on whether or not to take a seat on the
curb in misery, Jeongguk returns. His expression is unchanging, stony and
livid.
“J-Jeonggukie… I – I sorry…” Jimin whines incoherently on the way home, his
cheek squished to Jeongguk’s shoulder, his voice unheard above the roar of
Baby’s engine.
Jeongguk neither responds nor glances his way the whole ride to his apartment.
His back is ramrod straight, and he grips onto the throttle so tight it etches
patterns into his palm. The one reassurance Jimin gets is Jeongguk’s hand on
his leg at red lights to steady him from tipping off the seat. Large and warm,
his fingers sink into the plump flesh of Jimin’s thigh. Guiltily, Jimin
whimpers, squirming around at the proximity of Jeongguk’s hand to his crotch.
He thinks Jeongguk is doing it on purpose to punish him. He was so thoughtless
tonight, so caught up in his own thing to tell Jeongguk that he would be out
longer. Jeongguk would have the right to punish him.
“Baby…” Jimin tries again, scrambling to hold onto his jacket. He nuzzles his
face into the side of Jeongguk’s neck, hoping it’ll sober him up. “I’m s-sorry.
I know I should’ve called.”
The moment they come to a stop in the parking lot, Jimin apologises again.
Jeongguk is motionless, most likely waiting for Jimin to get off so he can go
home. Stubbornly, Jimin makes no move to hop off either. He wants to talk this
out.
“Jeongguk?” he whimpers in question. “Please, say something, I… I made you
worried, I’m sorry.”
“Worried?” Jeongguk hisses through his teeth. “I wasn’t worried, hyung. I was
going out of my mind. You didn’t call, or send a text. What was I supposed to
think?!”
“…To be fair, you probably wouldn’t have answered my text anyway,” Jimin
mutters, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.
“You think this is funny?” Jeongguk furiously wrenches from his hold, sliding
off the bike to stand beside him. His chest is heaving in his anger, his hair a
crazed mess and his eyes are blown wide. Jimin has never seen him this way
before, not towards him.
“No! No. I just – I wasn’t thinking, okay?” Jimin placates. He attempts to get
off the bike too, struggling when his foot gets caught in the pedal and he goes
crashing into Jeongguk’s chest. 
“Right, you weren’t thinking.” Jeongguk rights him then backs him up against
the bike, trapping him between his arms, his face near enough to kiss. "You
never think anything through. You know how fucking scared I was when I didn’t
hear from you for nearly five hours? I went to your apartment, hyung. I thought
you got home and passed out or whatever. You weren’t there. Then I get a call
from Hoseok, telling me how much fun you’d had, how drunk you were… fuck, I
wanted to punch his stupid face in.”
Jimin gapes. “I…I didn’t know Hoseok-hyung called you.”   
“He did,” Jeongguk growls. He casts a shadow over Jimin, forcing him to lean
back on the leather seats, his heart in his throat. “You know what he said?”
Jimin squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head.
“He said that you didn’t think about me once. You’d talked about anything but
about me. He told me how pretty you looked when drunk, how cute you were, how
you’d cling to his arm when you laughed,” Jeongguk snarls, his brows furrowing
and his nose crinkling. “How do you think that makes me feel, hyung?”
Jimin trembles. He can’t make his tongue work, can’t make his teeth let go of
his bottom lip.
“Jimin,” Jeongguk snaps, taking his chin between his thumb and forefinger,
prying his lip away. He’s so close. So close to putting his mouth on his. “I
asked you a question.”
“I don’t know – Ah! –” Jimin cries out when Jeongguk’s tugs him forward by the
hips. He’s hard. They both are.
“I think you’re lying.” He twists Jimin around, fitting his chest to his back
to make him topple so far forward that his cheek meets the leather. Jimin
doesn’t have to face him to know the sort of expression Jeongguk has on his
face. “You’ve never been good at lying, hyung. You knew I would get mad, so you
went out with those people. You lied to me.”
Jimin whimpers louder when Jeongguk grinds himself into his ass, one hand on
each cheek to knead and mould him into the perfect little fuck hole.
“Don’t you have any shame? Leaving me behind like that?” Jeongguk’s tone
indicates he’s no longer talking about this one night anymore. Jeongguk doesn’t
have to say it. It’s been building up for weeks. Whether Jeongguk realises this
or not, Jimin’s taken to closing his eyes each time he’d reach for his face,
waiting for that hit. It’s never ever delivered. And perhaps it’s worse that
Jeongguk hasn’t acted on his anger until now. All at once he spirals into it,
digging up all the ugly emotions he’s buried away from its grave. It’s all
Jimin’s fault. Everything. His fault, he’s the one to blame for everything
Jeongguk’s done.
“How are you gonna fix this, hyung? How are you gonna make it up to me?”
Jeongguk bites into the underside of his jaw, pulling a throaty groan out of
him.
Jeongguk’s resentment leaves him in waves. All that pent-up wrath and
obsession, Jimin feels it seep into his bloodstream where Jeongguk sinks his
teeth into the nape of his neck, the sensation rolling all the way down his
back to end at the tip of his toes. He sobs, turning his vision blurry as
Jeongguk blocks the world out for a moment, leaving just the two of them in the
darkened parking lot, their own secluded corner of the earth where Jeongguk can
fuck him without reservation. He imagines better outcomes, better
possibilities, the things he could’ve done right to avoid the collision.
No. It’ll always lead to this.
“Did you like being with him more than me?” Jeongguk asks with the slightest
hint of sadness and desperation. It’s there and gone in a flash. “Am I not
enough?”
Jimin can’t make sense of anything in his stupor, but he can feel when Jeongguk
unbuckles his belt and pulls the zipper down on his pants. Then his hand is on
his bare skin, his fingertips cold, giving Jimin a start. He can hear how easy
it is for Jeongguk to get a moan out of him. Every wet, sloppy tug from his
cock gets a sweet, drawn out mewl that sounds lewd even to his own ears.
Jeongguk’s slow grinds against his ass makes his body sing, has him drooling
all over Baby’s beautiful leather. He cries, because he’s tainted her. He can’t
stop it, he can’t help it. He’s ruined. Jeongguk’s making a mess of him.
“Nngh!J-Jeonggukie… Jeonggukie…” Jimin chants feverishly. Maybe it’s the
alcohol that’s making this more intense than it actually is.
“Are you enjoying yourself, hyung? It’s been a long time since someone has
touched you.” Jeongguk’s other hand is sliding up under his shirt, grabbing at
the softened fat of his waist. He’s saying other things Jimin can’t hear, his
voice throaty and echoing in the empty lot. Jimin doesn’t have the strength to
do anything but hold onto Baby’s seat, so close to his release that the stars
are exploding behind his eyelids… or is it because he has his face buried in
Jeongguk’s tattooed arm?
 “You’re such a slutty little whore, hyung. Getting off in the middle of the
parking lot? Then again – what was it that dad once said? – oh right, ‘you were
made for an audience’.” Jeongguk kisses his ear as his hand pumps faster, his
palm rolling over the head of Jimin’s cock, squeezing dangerously tight. He
doesn’t pause, doesn’t give Jimin a breather. He’s not teasing, it’s all
frustration. Frustration, fury, and misery tipping them both over into
oblivion. 
Jimin comes with a gurgling moan. Back arching prettily, he spills into
Jeongguk’s hand and drips onto the bike. His ecstasy lasts no more than five
seconds, to be replaced with shame. The burn of it sits heavy in his belly,
ready to burst again at any second.
He feels Jeongguk panting at the back of his neck, his tongue flat on his skin
over his teeth marks.
He’s slow to register that he’s being picked up a minute later, cradled in
Jeongguk’s arms to head inside. He grips on helplessly, tears streaking down
his cheeks in humiliation.
Jeongguk holds him tighter.
On the bed is where Jimin regains some of his bearings. Though his vision is
somewhat fuzzy around the corners, he can see Jeongguk kneeling beside him on
the floor, working his shoes and socks off for him. He’d call it chivalrous if
Jeongguk didn’t yank his pants down right after. His belt is still unbuckled
from the impromptu handjob, it makes it easier for Jeongguk to throw it off him
along with his boxers. The room is dark, yet Jimin clamps up anyway, his hand
flying down to hide himself, his legs drawing in and away. He curls up on his
side, scooting back to hide his face in his pillow. His face is sticky with
tears, his lips swollen from the few rough kisses on the elevator. He’s more
drunk off those than the alcohol.
“You smell like beer and shit, hyung. Stay still,” Jeongguk growls, grabbing
his ankles to yank him towards the edge of the bed. He wants to protest, yell
that he’s fine, he doesn’t smell at all, but Jeongguk isn’t saying he smells
bad. He’s saying he smells of Hoseok.
“Jeongguk…” Jimin moans dizzily. He waits for a reply, and he gets it in a form
of a low grunt. “I… I’m sorry about tonight.”
Jeongguk pauses. He looks down at him, hair framing his face so gorgeously
Jimin sighs. “Don’t,” he says, his hands preparing to rip Jimin’s shirt in two.
“Don’t apologise for that. That’s not what I want.”
“T-Then what do you want?” he sniffles.
Jeongguk’s hands are shaking. “I wanna get this shirt off you. I wanna… I wanna
kiss you and fuck you. I wanna cover you with cum and stuff you up with it,” he
hisses, ripping Jimin’s shirt wide open, the buttons popping and clattering to
different places on the floor, some lost within his carpet.
“What else?” Jimin breathes, cradling Jeongguk’s head to his chest when he
latches onto his collarbone. He arches up into Jeongguk’s warm mouth, eyes
glossy.
“Wanna see you bloated and round with cum, wanna see you drenched in it.”
Jeongguk nips and bites his way down to his soft chest, one hand cupping a
breast while he takes a nipple into his mouth. He leans him back further to
crawl in-between his legs, his own shoes kicked off somewhere in the journey to
the bedroom. With a post-orgasm hazed Jimin in his arms, sticky and sedated,
Jeongguk had shed anything that he could to save them the time.
“I’d love that,” Jimin keens, sinking his head back into his pillow. He’s
shivering all over, crying out as Jeongguk bites the nub, popping it into his
mouth and tugging. It comes back out red and swollen, just like his cock. “Are
you still angry?”
“Furious,” Jeongguk replies. His kisses travel further down to the rolls of
stomach fat. He pays special attention there, being sure to leave as many
blossoming bruises as he can, because it’s been years since someone’s marked
him. Jimin’s been adamant that his recent partners not leave anything of
themselves behind. Jeongguk is different. He would do it regardless of how
Jimin feels about it. 
“I’m sorry,” Jimin tries again.
“I don’t think you even know what you’re sorry for,” Jeongguk snaps, sitting up
in agitation.
Jimin’s fingers itch to conceal himself again. He’s bare for Jeongguk’s eyes to
see, his cock hard again in a matter of minutes. It twitches each time Jeongguk
smooths his hands over his big thighs, gripping onto the meat of them.
“I’m,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry I left you after the divorce. I’m
sorry I didn’t stay in contact. I should have, but I was scared. Mostly of you,
and of Namjoon and what he’d think. I’m actually still scared of what he’ll
think.”
Jeongguk’s expression does not change. In fact, he looks more incensed than he
was before. “What would he think, hyung? What would he say to you right now?
Here you are, about to be fucked by his own son. And you actually want it. More
than you’ve wanted him I bet.”
Jimin clenches his eyes closed, nodding once. Although he cares for what
Namjoon will think, it pales in comparison to what Jeongguk means to him. Does
that make him terrible? Is he sick for wanting the boy he’d help raise?
Jeongguk has given more to him in three weeks than Namjoon has during their
entire marriage. Namjoon had fucked him on their first date, and he’d fucked
him through the rest of them like he was a rented whore. Even if he doesn’t
like comparing the two, Jeongguk has given him intimacy and devotion, obsessive
as it is. Namjoon couldn’t be bothered taking care of him the way he wished, so
no wonder Jeongguk had to do it for him.
“Want you… want you more,” he cries, holding his arms out for Jeongguk.
“Please...I wanna be fucked...please just fuck me already,” he pleads.
No need for further prompting, Jeongguk pulls his shirt over his head and dumps
it on the floor. Jimin’s hands naturally fall to rest on his bare chest,
fingers meeting Virgo and Libra, tangled up in each other above Jeongguk’s
heart. How corny, he thinks, but the tears still come. He’s beautiful. So
stunning under the slivers of moonlight seeping through the cracks in Jimin’s
curtains. There’re no sharpness to the ink smeared on Jeongguk’s chest.
Everything fades at the ends, suggesting a boundless world that continues on
skin. He moves up to press his lips to it as Jeongguk buries his face in his
hair, his hands working off his belt. Jimin feels overwhelmed.
“I love you, Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk mutters into his hair, so utterly fond and
sincere. “I’m so, so fucking in love with you.”
Jimin’s answer is a kiss. Hard, with their teeth almost clacking together, he
parts his lips for Jeongguk’s tongue without a second thought, spreading his
legs and opening himself up in every way he can. Immediately, Jeongguk’s finger
finds his pink, puckered hole, circling around the ring of muscle to then slide
up to palm his cock. Jimin hiccups, his arms getting thrown around Jeongguk’s
shoulders to scoot in closer. He’s insatiable, his tongue hanging out, panting
like a bitch. Jeongguk moans that he doesn’t have a collar to put on him. A
pretty little collar, crusted in diamonds like he deserves. Jeongguk’s good
little doggy, always with his ass up because he knows when it’s time to get
cock.
“I had to listen to him fuck you,” Jeongguk says into his mouth. “Every time,
you’d get louder.”
Jimin makes a high-pitched squeak in protest. He hadn’t considered that
Jeongguk would be listening in enough times to notice the ascending volume of
his voice. He’s mortified.
“I listened to how you begged for it.” Jeongguk kicks his jeans and boxers off
the bed. He’s sitting on his knees with Jimin’s legs bent on either side of his
hip, tall and shrouded in the dark, his eyes boring holes into Jimin’s face.
“You always sounded so pretty.”
Jimin gulps audibly, his throat already burning from the first look of Jeongguk
thick, heavy cock. It’s angry and red and waiting for a warm mouth. He wonders
if he begs enough, will Jeongguk let him suck him off? That would probably make
him too kind.
“Do you remember the way dad would fuck you facing the door?” Jeongguk asks,
looming in close to lick over Jimin’s lips. “Remember when you’d scream into
the pillow? Was it because you knew I was listening to you being fucked like a
whore? Did you get off on the thought that I could come in and watch you come
all over the sheets, getting yourself all dirty?”
Jimin shudders, dazed by the way Jeongguk’s mouth curves around the words. “N-
No…”
“No? You don’t remember?” Jeongguk kisses him again, getting salvia running
down his chin.
“I don’t know,” Jimin pants.
“You don’t know?” Jeongguk coos condescendingly. “I expected better from you,
hyung. Do you feel bad at all for making me this way? You’re the one who fucked
me up in the first place.”
Jimin refuses to give in, pressing his lips into a thin line.
Jeongguk smirks, swiping his thumb along his chin. He looks endeared, and
immensely amused. He thinks this is fun. “So difficult.”
In a moment of spontaneity and simmering annoyance, Jeongguk pulls them off the
bed. He stands first, his hand gripping one of Jimin’s to tug him along.
Obediently, Jimin follows, confusion evident in the tilt of his head. Jeongguk
rewards him with another kiss, bringing him down onto his knees at the side of
the bed, his torn shirt slipping off his shoulders to be left behind. He turns
Jimin around and nudges his knees apart. Jimin makes an inquisitive sound as
Jeongguk’s hand trails up his spine to bend him over.
He realises with a start that it’s the same position he’d been in with Namjoon
when Jeongguk had caught them.
“J-Jeongguk,” he makes to protest. He’s not one for reliving memories.
Jeongguk isn’t listening to him. He’s off to the side, rummaging through his
nightstand to take out his bottle of lube. He behaves like it’s home to him,
when Jimin knows for a fact he’s been here a total of two times.
“Jeongguk, you… you don’t have to do this. I’m already yours.” Jimin reaches
for him, uncomfortable with how far Jeongguk is. “I’m yours.”
“I know you’re mine. You’ve always been mine,” Jeongguk scoffs. He squirts a
generous amount of the lube on his fingers before shuffling to Jimin’s back
again. “When have you not been mine?”
“T-Then why are you doing this?” Jimin collapses onto the bed at the first
touch of Jeongguk slimy finger, his hole fluttering around nothing. That earns
him a firm smack to his ass, the sound thundering through the room. He cries
and lurches to hold onto the sheets.
Jeongguk slumps over his back, and puts his mouth to his ear. One of his hands
squeeze a cheek, pulling it apart to let it bounce right back. He jiggles, much
to Jeongguk’s delight. “I wanna prove to you that I can fuck you better than he
can. He wasn’t rough enough for you, was he?”
Jimin whimpers, wiggling his hips back to feel Jeongguk’s cock slip along his
cheeks. He’s satisfied once he gets a groan in return. “H-Hurry. I want you
inside.”
“Sh… I’ve got you.” With that, Jeongguk’s middle finger slides in with little
resistance. He doesn’t need it. He’s been fucked with toys of all materials,
he’s more than loose to take Jeongguk. However, Jeongguk insists he has to
check anyway. It takes some time, and a little squirming on Jimin’s end to get
Jeongguk to his prostate. It’s nothing explosive when he gets there, what makes
Jimin clench his teeth is the way he curls the digit inside, just because he
can.
“So hot,” Jeongguk croaks. With the pad of his finger, he slowly massages along
Jimin’s walls, working him up and up until he’s wound tight and writhing.
“Fuck… Look at you sucking me in. Can’t wait to feel that on my cock,” he
groans as Jimin clenches down tighter in reaction to his words.
“Jeonggukie, please… enough. I’m ready…” Jimin whines. It hasn’t been five
minutes, but he’s frantic for cock.
“Don’t be impatient,” Jeongguk reprimands, nudging against his prostate a few
more times to listen to Jimin whine. He pulls out once his patience runs dry,
wiping his hand on the sheets beside Jimin’s head. Then, Jeongguk’s hands are
back on his ass, squeezing and moulding his cheeks. He groans each time Jimin
clenches around the air, his hole blinking in need for something to stuff it.
Jeongguk doesn’t tell him when he’s pushing in. His one warning is the wet,
naked blunt tip of Jeongguk’s cock pressed to the rim of his hole. Jimin needs
this more than anything.
There’s a period where the stretch is uncomfortable; it burns and it leaves him
feeling like he’s gaping open. It’s exactly what he wants. He helplessly cries
out against the sheets once he feels Jeongguk fill him up, his cock sitting
inside for a moment to give them both some time to breathe.
“Fuck.” Jeongguk sounds in awe.
He fucks like Jimin is the one sucking him in, doing all the work. His thrusts
are brutal, painful at times. His hands go back on his ass, cupping and
kneading him. Some of the lube escapes him, sliding down his perineum to his
balls. He squeezes down harder. He doesn’t want one drop of Jeongguk’s cum to
leak out when his cock is ready to paint his insides. He’ll hold on for as long
as he can. He wants it all plugged up, his tummy swollen.  
“Faster,” Jimin demands. “Jeongguk… fuck me. God, f-fuck me like you’ve always
w-wanted to.”
Jeongguk grunts, his cock dragging deliciously along Jimin’s silky walls,
making his insides quiver. He sets a pace that leaves Jimin speechless for a
beat. It’s hard and rough, hitting him so deep he’s sure to feel it in his
belly. His thrusts rattle the bed, shaking Jimin apart. He’s churning up his
insides. Jimin screams and welcomes it all. He pushes back, asking, begging to
be devastated.
“I…” He’s cut off as Jeongguk’s thrusting back in, punching all the air out of
his lungs so fast he has to dig his nail into his skin to not wail.
“Mine,” Jeongguk declares ferociously, slamming him up against the edge of the
bed where his cock is trapped between his stomach and the mattress.
“Y-Yes, I’m yours. O-Only yours…” His words are trembling through his teeth, he
can’t steady himself through his haze. He’s in a trance. All he can think to do
is to rut back to try and get Jeongguk to go harder, hoping that he’ll be
merciful when he hears Jimin sobbing in need. He’s going to shake apart with
every thrust, his body aching for release.
His nails scrabble along the sheet. He wants so badly to turn around and look
Jeongguk in the eye. He wants to come looking at Jeongguk, not his bedsheets.
He wants to come with Virgo and Libra watching over them.
“Jeongguk…” he whines wantonly, eyelashes fluttering as he turns his head to
look over his shoulder. “I… I wanna see you – Ah!” He sobs at the fingers
spreading him open, his hole probably stretched so wide that Jeongguk could
shove a few fingers up in there with his cock. The thought has chills running
up and down his spine. He could be so full of Jeongguk. Every hole could be
filled with his seed.
Jimin’s orgasm rushes through him in a shock. He clamps down viciously around
Jeongguk’s cock, fucking himself on it through his release, his thighs wet from
cum. He can feel Jeongguk’s body hunch forward, his head going around to bury
itself in the crook of Jimin’s neck, his heavy pants fanning across hot skin.
Jimin attempts to blink the smoke away, tears collecting in his eyelashes as
they flutter. His chest heaves, his skin so flushed he isn’t sure he’ll be back
to normal again. His cock’s last spurt coats some of the rumbled sheets,
staining it white. He whimpers as Jeongguk keeps going, not missing one beat to
chase his own release. His legs and arms are shaking so much he lets himself go
limp. Jeongguk fucks so good, so deep and sharp he feels his ass bruising from
the assault. The sounds they make together bounce off the walls, echoing in his
head to never leave him again.
His vision blackens for not even a second before he’s jerking awake from the
feeling of Jeongguk filling him up. Hot and slick, he spills into him like he
was made to hold his cum. Jimin believes that he is.
“Fuck… you’re so perfect…” Jeongguk gasps. He doesn’t pull out. Jimin shouldn’t
ask him to.
Shivering and drenched from Jeongguk’s and his own cum, Jimin gets up on his
knees to tug Jeongguk’s face to his neck. He hasn’t caught his breath yet,
they’re coming down together, floating from the clouds. “Only for you.”
Although he’s disappointed their first time was not spent face to face, it’s
only one of many. Jeongguk fucks him a total of five times throughout the
night, one for each year Jimin has subjected them both to loneliness. He wishes
he was more remorseful for it, but with the way his belly rounds with seed, he
can’t lie and say he regrets it.
 
There’s a peaceful lull to the building on the morning Jimin wakes up beside
Jeongguk, body sore in red and purples. He walks Jeongguk out to the lobby
after breakfast, knees creaking and throat stinging, thick and slippery with
the last droplets of cream. On the way down, their mouths stay together, lost
in their moment. They’re reluctant to let go when they get to the main doors,
Jimin pouting and asking Jeongguk to stay for a while longer. A day or two.
Maybe a week? What’s the harm? They won’t need their clothes anyway.
Jeongguk laughs fondly into his forehead, and Jimin’s eyes close. It’s not
enough, it’ll never be enough. He refuses to be left cold, so he crawls right
under Jeongguk’s large stained shirt and says a sweet temporary goodbye to
Virgo and Libra, pressing his lips to where the two constellations are joined.
Jeongguk’s chest shakes with his laughter, his arms wrapping around Jimin’s
body to keep him encased in his shirt. He says that if Jimin wants, he can live
in his pocket. He’s small enough for it.
Jimin kicks him out to only pull him in later when they meet at the
kindergarten. Sunhi gasps at their open display of affection, covering his eyes
with a squeal when Jeongguk squeezes Jimin’s ass through his slacks. He’s
batting his hand away as Jeongguk is murmuring a promise into his lips. An
invitation to his home, where the neighbours aren’t close enough to hear him
scream.
As he’s returning to his apartment to pack as much clothing as he can, he
notices an odd quietness to his floor. He walks by Hoseok’s door and he hears
none of his usual happiness. No music, no footsteps to indicate a gruelling
dance practise.
The chalkboard on his door holds the same message as the day of the school
play. He remembers teasing Hoseok about it at the bar. The man had cuffed his
head and insisted that it was his best one yet. It’s a short quote. The words
‘Live every day like it’s your last’ surrounded by Hoseok’s charming scribbles
of hearts and flowers.  
Hoseok is consistent when it comes to the messages on his chalkboard. It’s been
untouched for days.
Jimin stares, shrugs, then erases it off the board.
Chapter End Notes
     I don't believe this will be the end. I do plan on adding one more
     chapter soon because I didn't have the time to put in all the scenes
     I had planned for chapter 2! I want to write up everything that
     could've/should've happened at the end because I ran out of time and
     I already made my recipient wait too long for the fic! >.< Hopefully,
     the extra chapter will make the pacing a little better!!
     Thank you so much for reading!! <3
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