Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/14110659.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jungkook/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Additional Tags:
      Pining_Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Cute_Jeon_Jungkook, beauty_mark, it's_all
      Jungkook's_beauty_mark's_fault, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga_Is_Bad_at_Feelings,
      what_Jungkook_wants, Minor_Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin,
      Minor_Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, really_Jungkook_is_so
      cute, why_is_sugakookie_a_thing_to_destroy_souls, Sugakookie, jungkook_is
      sixteen_at_the_time_of_smut, it_really_is_all_the_beauty_mark's_fault,
      min_yoongi_has_better_self_control_than_i_do
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-27 Words: 8313
****** Beauty Mark Bullseye ******
by ddelusionall
Summary
     Yoongi has great self control ... for about a year or so. But really.
     It's the maknae. You can't really blame him.
Notes
     This is NOT a prequel to Manhandling the Maknae. I think I'm going to
     just write an entire series of different ways that SugaKookie end up
     hooking up.
     This is pre-debut. It starts with Jungkook at 14/15ish and goes to
     right after the release of their Dark and Wild album. Jungkook is 16
     (western years) at the time of Yoongi saying fuck it.
     I attempted to follow canon, pre-debut timeline, but I'm sure I
     fucked up somewhere.
There is a feeling, a swooshing of your stomach and lightness in your head,
that comes only when faced with something either cute, desireable, or weak.
Faced with an adorable bowing Jeon Jungkook, Yoongi realizes that when all
three of those are combined, the feeling isn’t just a swooshing, but a painful,
twist in your chest.
Love at first sight.
Fuck, probably.
Jungkook is cute, baby faced, with wide eyes and pretty skin. His mouth is
captivating, a thin upper lip, a plump lower lip. Yoongi has a mental image of
himself biting onto it and never letting go. That whooshing feeling travels
lower and settles into the pleasure and lustful place of his body. He clears
his throat and tries not to look at the boy’s eyes, because fuck, that’s
embarrassing. But he can’t be rude and he keeps staring, gazing, worshiping.
He’s got such smooth baby cheeks, dabbed with makeup already, and such
perfectly shaped almond eyes.
When Jungkook bites his lower lip, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at what one
of the others said, Yoongi sees the dark spot. The freckle. The beauty mark. On
this boy, it isn’t anything but a beauty mark. He is reaching to touch, when he
catches himself and drops his hand to his side, digging his nails into his own
palm.
The others coo at him, pinching his cheeks and telling him he’s adorable.
Yoongi stares. What else is he supposed to do? If he gets too close, he’s going
to do something scandolous or embarrassing, like confess his undying love. Or
worse, lick at that beauty mark and bite that plump lower lip.
And then comes the deal breaker. He’s fourteen. Jeon Jungkook is only fourteen,
and Yoongi’s heart breaks a little more. Fourteen is too young, and he’s
already pictured himself kissing the boy and touching the boy, and he is
definitely going to hell.
He snorts, the noise in a perfect moment of silence, and Jeon Jungkook meets
his eyes, and then drops his gaze, once again worrying his lower lip.
Yoongi keeps his face as impassive as possible. Namjoon frowns at him.
Rude, yes, he’s being rude. But being rude to the new kid is way better than
being nice. Fourteen is too young for the way Yoongi wants to be nice to him.
“Let’s get to work,” Yoongi mutters and turns his back on the others.
 
6 months later
Yoongi sits at his computer, listening to a recent track he and Namjoon
finished. There’s something wrong with it. Something wrong with the way the
baselines work together. He can’t tell.
Someone nudges his shoulder, and Yoongi takes off the headphones and mostly
just grunts at Namjoon.
“I need to talk to you about something.”
Well, fuck, he thinks. If they’re sending Namjoon to him then Yoongi is in
trouble.
“What?” Yoongi sort of snaps. He dosen’t apologize even when Namjoon winces at
his tone.
“It’s just ... that ...” Namjoon rubs the back of his neck. “Look, the kid
thinks you hate him.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen. “What? Why?”
Namjoon scoffs. “Really? You never talk to him unless you have to, you never
sit by him, you almost glare at him when he gets close to you, and two days ago
you punched him in the shoulder when he touched you to get your attention only
to ask if you wanted some tea!”
Yoongi bites his lower lip and looks away.
“Jungkookie thinks that you don’t think he belongs here, or with us, because he
isn’t hip-hop enough, that he’s just a singer who should only be an idol.”
“Just a singer?” Yoongi glares at Namjoon. “I’m just a singer. Kookie is a
master.”
Namjoon smiles. “Yah, maybe tell him that once in a while. Why are you avoiding
him so hard?”
Yoongi turns his glare back to his keyboard. He can tell Namjoon right? They’ve
been the closest thing to best friends for a few years, right? He sighs. “I
will stop. Or ... just ... I can’t ...”
“Jungkookie is cute,” Namjoon says with a knowing lilt to his voice, and Yoongi
snaps his head up so fast, he almost hurts his neck. “It’s hard not to notice
that. And everyone, well, everyone but Kookie it seems, knows how much you like
cute things.”
“He’s fourteen,” Yoongi mutters.
“Almost fifteen. His birthday is next week.”
Yoongi knows that. He knows almost everything about their little maknae.
“I’m not telling you to jump him and drag him into your bed. I’m not even sure
he’d know what to do once he was there.”
God, Yoongi wants to teach him.
“But you know ... just ... stop treating him like he’s expendable. He had so
many offers to go to other companies. And he chose ours. Let’s not make him
regret it. He admires you and looks up to you and wants to be close to you.”
“I’m going to go to hell for as close as I want to be to him.”
Namjoon chuckles. “You and Donghyun both.”
Yoongi glares. “What?”
“Donghyun is interested. Flirts with the boy constantly. You might want to do
something about that.”
Yoongi doesn’t know what to do about that or the hot sudden painful flare of
jealousy that overwhelms the normal whooshing in his chest that comes when he
thinks of their maknae. “I’ll be ... I’ll be nicer to him.”
“Good. We have a meeting tomorrow about our group, about adding a couple more
members.”
Yoongi nods. “I’ll be there.”
“Jungkookie is thinking of quitting tomorrow, at that meeting, so you need to
do something before then.”
Yoongi curses and glances at the clock. It’s way past a normal time for dinner,
but his stomach reminds him that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. “Is he still
around?”
“Yeah, dance studio last time I saw him. He and Hobi are working on one of
their backup routines. He’s been doing moves with his body that may make you--”
“Yah! He’s fourteen!”
“And Donghyun doesn’t care about that.”
“I will punch Donghyun in his face.”
“Maybe go talk to the maknae first.”
Yoongi rubs his face again. He is too tired for this shit. But he saves and
closes his programs. The annoying baselines will have to wait. Namjoon leans
against the door, watching him with his arms crossed.
“Honestly, man,” Namjoon says. “The things Donghyun says about the kid are
really disturbing. The things he says to the kid are really disturbing.
Jungkookie is too nice to tell him no, and probably doesn’t know how to or even
think that he can. I don’t want to know what goes on in your head when you
think about Jungkookie, but it can’t be worse than the shit Donghyun has told
me.”
Yoongi growls and flings the hood up over his head. They leave the room,
Namjoon turning out the lights. He shoves his hands into his pockets and with
his head down follows Namjoon to one of their dance studios. There is music
coming from it, and Yoongi glances in to see Jungkookie bent over all the way,
hands gripping his ankles, just holding that pose, and he bites his lips. He’s
wearing black sweatpants and a black muscle shirt that exposes all of the wiry
muscles of his arms and the way his ribs stand out because of the position.
“Text me later,” Namjoon says. He knocks loudly on the window and then
disappears before Jungkookie lifts his head, so he only sees Yoongi. He smiles
and then bites his lip and looks away, turning from the view.
Yoongi takes a deep breath and opens the door. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi, Yoongi-hyung.” So incredibly polite. All the time. There is distance
between them. Yoongi made sure of that. Now he can see how much it hurts their
no-so little maknae. He is already taller than Yoongi, stronger too.
Yoongi tilts his head and pouts at him a little, but Jungkook doesn’t look over
at him, goes to the mirror and grabs a bottle of water.
“Hey, um, Namjoon-ah says you’ve been in here for almost as long as I’ve been
bent over the mixing board in the studio,” Yoongi says, his voice quieter than
he wants.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not. I’m going to go grab something to eat. You want to come with me?”
Jungkookie freezes and glances at him through the mirror. An almost hopeful
look. It’s so cute, and Yoongi squashes down on the urge to coo.
“We have a meeting tomorrow to talk about new recruits and debut and shit,”
Yoongi says. “I figured I’d try to be well rested and actually capable during
that meeting, which will require me to sleep and eat at least two meals before
then.”
“And not just coffee.” Jungkookie winces and bites his lip.
But Yoongi laughs, lets himself relax. Anyone else and he’d already be storming
away, but the idea that Jungkookie has noticed the amount of coffee he drinks
makes his chest tighten. “Hey, some people need blood in their body, I need
coffee.”
Jungkookie giggles, and Yoongi lets himself die a little inside. He is so cute.
“Come on, maknae. Let’s go eat something.”
Like his ass.
Yoongi mentally hits himself and turns away, but not before seeing the way
Jungkook pulls a hoody over his head, shirt riding up a little bit to bare that
tiny waist of his, and Yoongi ignores the shiver through his body. Jungkook is
just ... too pretty. Too delicate.
Too innocent for the things Yoongi thinks about. Like wanting to leave nail
marks and bites down his stomach and ribs and that smooth, perfect skin on his
lower back. He wants to defile and destroy, and then he wants to cuddle and
coo. He doesn’t wait for the maknae, needs time to settle his brain, and his
body. Fuck.
Jungkookie catches up to him just outside the door, still mostly dancing, like
he does, little twirls and side-steps as they walk down the sidewalk. Yoongi’s
hands are shaking, but he lights up a cigarette anyway.
“Can we go have dukbokki, hyung?” Jungkookie asks.
Whatever you want, baby, is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites his lip and
grounds out, “Sure,” around the next drag of his cigarette. There’s a series of
street vendors close by, so they head there.
Yoongi doesn’t know what to talk about, so he doesn’t and smokes his cigarette.
As the minutes pass, Jungkookie dances a little less, his head droops, and he
looks at the ground.
And then he bites his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. In the short
glances sent his way, Yoongi can see that beauty mark and he really really
really wants to touch it. At the next ashtray outside of a business, Yoongi
stubs out his cigarette and then shoves both hands in his hoody pockets to keep
from touching.
He clears his throat and says, “You’re doing great on the vocals for No More
Dream.”
Jungkookie doesn’t say anything right away.
“It’s great. Your great. Your voice is getting to be so much better. Way better
than mine can every be,” Yoongi continues and babbles, because he doesn’t want
Jungkookie to leave, he doesn’t want the boy to feel worthless. “It’s so good
for the song. I’m glad we decided to add them. Your voice has brought another
level to our songs, more melody than what I usually hear sometimes when I
compose.”
Jungkookie bites his lip. “I ... I want to rap, too, Yoongi-hyung.”
“Okay,” Yoongi agrees immediately.
“What?”
“You can rap. Why not? If Hoseokkie can learn, so can you. You’ll have to
practice.”
“That’s not ... I’m not a rapper, though. That’s not my position. Everyone says
I’m a singer.”
“Fuck everyone else,” Yoongi snaps. “If you want to rap, then you will rap. I
will make sure of it.”
“I don’t ... I mean--”
“Don’t argue with me, Kookie.”
Jungkook sucks his lower lip into his mouth and nods. “O-okay, Yoongi-hyung.”
He sort of smiles, face turning red.
Ugh, why is he so cute? Yoongi is going to hell.
They order food from one of the cute ahjummas, and Yoongi calls her noona, just
to get the guaranteed smack to his shoulder. She always does that, but the
smile on her face is genuine as she takes Yoongi’s money and she adds a few
extra spoonfuls to Jungkookie’s plate because he’s still growing. They settle
down at a rickety metal table and chairs, not relaxing until the chairs do not
collapse underneath them.
Yoongi can’t look at him, especially can’t look at him putting food into his
mouth or licking his lips. He takes out his phone and pulls up the lyrics and
music of No More Dream.. He raps first, followed by Rap Monster. They’re
supposed to trade stanzas back and forth. Instead, he highlights the next few
lines. He shifts his chair closer to Jungkook.
“Look. You can do these lines.”
“But those are yours!”
“Shut up, it’s fine. You want to rap, then you’ll rap. If we’re adding more
singers to the group, then you’ll want more lines. You can have these.”
“But, hyung--”
Yoongi stares at him, impassive, and Jungkook shifts uncomfortably. “I’ll tell
the managers tomorrow during our meeting. It’s not like they can disagree with
me.”
Jungkookie bites down on his lower lip again, worrying it, teeth going over the
mark just below them. Yoongi’s pants grow tight as he watches, and he chokes
back a moan when Jungkookie whispers, “Thank you.”
Supportive, be supportive, asshole.
“You can do it. You just have to practice. After the meeting tomorrow, come to
the studio and we’ll work on it.”
This time he smiles, and Yoongi is floored into silence, mouth a little open.
God, he’s so cute. He doesn’t stop himself from leaning over and smooshing his
cheeks and giving Jungkook a little coo. Just a small one. It makes the kid
blush and yank his face away.
Yoongi laughs. “Cute.”
“I’m not cute.”
“You are cute.”
“Puppies and kittens are cute. I’m a man.”
“You’re still a kid, so you’re cute.”
Jungkookie crosses his arms over his chest with a pout that Yoongi can’t look
at and ends up looking at his arms instead. Also not a good idea. Jungkook had
pushed up his sleeves, leaving strong forearms on display. And even in the
hoody he can see how his shoulders are growing. “You keep working those muscles
and you won’t be just cute.”
He flushes and looks away.
Yoongi clears his throat. “Are you through?” he asks, gesturing to the plates.
Jungkookie shakes his head. It’s silent again as Jungkook finishes his food and
Yoongi’s food. Yoongi smiles and keeps his focus on the phone screen in front
of him.
It suddenly flares with a text message.
Namjoon: All good?
Yoongi snorts and only sends back a thumbs up emoji. “Let’s get back to the
dorm. I may say I want to sleep, but we’ll see if it actually happens.”
---
Yoongi does not sleep. Fourteen is too young, but fifteen isn’t. Right? He had
his first ... well, first everything when he was fifteen. But he also still
regrets it and most of the encounters after it. But he also figured himself
out, figured out he was bisexual, and figured out that he could release all his
anger and frustration and depression through songs instead of sex.
Minus a few fumbling things with Namjoon over the last year or so, he feels
pretty deprived.
That’s all it is. Deprivation. Maybe he needs to just get fucked good and hard
to stop thinking about the maknae.
But he knows that isn’t true.
Because Namjoon is right. He likes cute things and Jungkookie is so cute.
He’s already awake and brooding in the living room when Namjoon wakes up and
starts the long process of waking up their maknae and Hoseok.
He took a shower last night, so he watches the clock on his phone tick down the
minutes before finally getting up to get dressed. There’s an unconscious twitch
in his mind that reminds him of the clothes he owns that Jungkook likes, so he
dresses in something nice: navy slacks, a long-sleeved button down of blues and
green patterns. It seems almost too nice for just a morning meeting with the
managers, so he wears his puma trainers with it and a soft sweater and a
beanie. He feels overdressed, especially when he enters the main part of the
apartment and almost everyone else is in jeans and T-shirts.
Jungkookie is wearing an oversized, white T-shirt. Again.
“Wow, looking good, Suga,” Namjoon says. “Got a breakfast date afterwards?”
Yoongi smiles and tries not to look at Jungkook, when he answers, “No, just
want to look nice.”
Namjoon obviously doesn’t believe him, and he wonders if Jungkookie’s told
Namjoon about rapping yet and practicing with Yoongi after this meeting.
Yoongi and Hoseok are the only two actually ready to go, and Yoongi sighs and
leans against the wall as Taehyung decides he’s not dressed up enough and goes
to change. Really quick, hyung, I promise. Really quick. Namjoon decides that
if he’s going to change, then he should too. He’s the leader. He needs to look
nice.
“We’re going to be late,” Hoseok says.
Yoongi hums in agreement.
“Aren’t you going to go change, maknae?” Hoseok teases.
Yoongi glances up just in time to see Hoseok pinching Jungkook’s cheeks. He
allows the discomfort, as he always does as the maknae, and says, “No. I’m
comfortable. It’s just a simple meeting.”
Yoongi’s chest tightens mostly in relief. If Jungkook is relaxed about this
meeting, then that means Yoongi was successful in making sure Jungkook doesn’t
leave the group.
“Hyung,” Jungkook says, voice low and his presence settles next to Yoongi.
Yoongi makes a noise to show he is listening but tries to keep his attention on
the phone. If he looks up, he’s going to pin the maknae to the wall and see if
he can lick that beauty mark off from under his lip. Or chew it off. Or ...
shove him lower and cover it in--
Yoongi clears his throat and shifts.
“You’re ... you’re still going to let me rap?”
Hoseok makes a noise, but doesn’t say anything.
Yoongi snorts, the noise loud, and he feels Jungkook flinch, and he hastily
adds, “Of course, Kookie. I promised.” He pushes away from the wall and shouts,
“Yah! Assholes, come on. We’re going to be late!”
“He’s going to rap,” Hoseok says behind him.
Yoongi glares at him, and is a little upset that his glare no longer works on
Hoseok. They’ve been together for too long. “Yes. He is.”
Hoseok looks at him a bit longer and then smiles, cooing at the maknae again.
“Our little bunny is going to rap.”
Jungkook’s cheeks go pink and he tries to get away.
“Shut up, Hoseok. He’s going to be great.”
The managers don’t agree, but Yoongi holds his ground and says, “There’s no
harm in letting him try. I don’t know if you know this, but Jungkook is good at
everything. He’ll be fine, and if he isn’t, well, it’s not like I can’t just
take the lines back.”
There were three sets of glares at him, but the managers know, as Yoongi knows,
that Yoongi and his music and his songs are what is going to set this idol
group apart from the others. So they agree, and Jungkook beams at him, and
Yoongi falls just a little bit more in love.
---
It’s hard to stay professional with Jungkook when they are at home. The boy is
adorable and sexy all bundled up into one. But in the studio, Yoongi is
determined, and he pushes away all the cooing cute adorable feelings toward
their maknae and makes him work, staying in the studio and practice rooms until
late in the night. Or early in the morning, depending.
But he was right.
Jungkook is good at everything and within a few days, Jungkook has the rap
down, just as they’re being introduced to their two new group-mates (Seokjin
who is older than them all but has a handsome face and a beautiful tenor voice,
and Jimin who would have stolen the title of most adorable if it isn’t for
Jungkook and can hit high notes that Yoongi only makes when he’s being fucked).
Jungkook raps when he talks, throws in the little rap noises that Yoongi taught
him in the middle of asking Seokjin-hyung for a snack. He tries to rhyme
everything. He pretty much drives everyone crazy.
Everyone but Yoongi who smiles at him and lets his heart swell with a
combination of pride and happiness at how cute and adorable he is even when
he’s rapping.
For his birthday, Seokjin-hyung bakes a cake and they go out to eat. Seokjin-
hyung is the only one who can buy alcohol, so he does on the way home, just a
few bottles of soju for all of them to share.
Jungkook is tipsy almost immediately, leaning heavily on Yoongi, fingers
playing with a hole in Yoongi’s jeans. His breath is warm and smells of soju
and chocolate, and Yoongi shuts down. He has to or he’ll topple Jungkook to the
couch and fuck his pretty, perfect, talented brains out. He really tries not to
be a bore, but when Jimin asks him a question, and Yoongi glances up, Jimin
flinches like Yoongi had hit him, and Yoongi tries to relax and apologize,
because he’s fighting with himself, not their sweet, adorable Jimin.
Jungkook huffs and lets out a little snore.
“I’ll take him to bed,” Yoongi says, glad for the excuse to get away.
Namjoon snorts. “He’s like twice your size, hyung. I’ll help you.”
Yoongi doesn’t want help, but he knows that Namjoon is right, and the two of
them shuffle/carry Jungkook to their shared bed.
“How’s the crush?” Namjoon whispers as Yoongi settles pillows around Jungkook’s
head.
Yoongi glares at him. “Painful. Shut up.”
“He likes you.”
“He worships me, there’s a difference.”
Namjoon bites his lip and then nods. “And you don’t want to take advantage of
that.”
But his mind is wobbly from the alcohol so he tells the truth, “I want to take
advantage of him, all of him, and see if he’s as good as sucking dick as he is
at rapping.”
“Too much information, hyung. But ...”
“You know I won’t. I can’t. He’s just a baby. A kid.”
Namjoon shrugs. “I remember you telling me that you lost your virginity at
fifteen.”
“I was just a kid.”
Namjoon grips his shoulder. “It’s not like you have to fuck him right away.
Just ...”
Yoongi smirks at him. “That’s true.”
“There’s lots of stuff you can do before then anyway. You shouldn’t let past
regrets color what you’re feeling. Or what he’s feeling. Maybe it’s just hero-
worship. I mean, shit, you’re Gloss. Did you know that Jungkook first heard
your music when he was twelve? That’s when he discovered the underground rap
scene in Korea.”
Yoongi takes a deep breath. He did not know that. “It doesn’t matter. It’s
hero-worship for him. It’s something else for me.”
“Love?” Namjoon says.
Yoongi shuts his eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t ... I don’t know. He’s only
fifteen.”
“Lots of people meet their forever when they’re young.”
Yoongi smiles at him. “Like Seokjin-hyung?”
Namjoon blushes. “Shut up. He ... we ... I ...”
Yoongi laughs. “You don’t need to explain to me. The way you look at him says
enough.”
Namjoon suddenly hugs him. “I’m scared, hyung. I’m ... I don’t know how to be
the leader like this.”
Yoongi hugs him back and says, “You’re going to be great. Seokjin-hyung is so
respectful of you, because you’ve been doing this for three years already. He
isn’t going to get in the way of you being the leader, and if you play your
cards right, he’ll help you get rid of stress, just like I used to.” Yoongi
winks at him. “Though you’ll probably enjoy it more.”
“Shut up. I love what we have.”
“Have or had?”
Namjoon frowns a little and then nods in understanding. It’s been more than six
months since the two of them did anything together. Not since Jungkook.
Jungkook. Right.
Yoongi pulls Namjoon into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers into his
neck.
“Something prettier walked by.”
“Fuck off, I love you.”
“I know.” Namjoon kisses him on the lips. Just a small peck that smells more
like alcohol than love.
A groan from the bed pulls both of their attention. Their maknae, rolling to
the side of the bed, face pale and clammy. They both know the signs, the sweat
beading on his forehead, the way his limbs shake.
Yoongi is faster, pulling the trashcan in front of Jungkook’s mouth before he
throws up. Yoongi whispers calming nonsense at him, brushing sweaty hair away
from his forehead, trying to be soothing.
“Fee’ bad, hyung,” Jungkook slurs.
“I know. You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”
“This is all Jin’s fault,” Namjoon says next to him, and holds out a cool wet
cloth.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, taking the cloth. “I’ll watch him. Go back to your new
love.”
“Sh, not so loud.”
Yoongi chuckles, and then apologizes when the noise makes Jungkook whimper. He
dabs at Jungkook’s sweaty neck and at his face and tries not to wish that he
could touch and kiss and play and take care of the sweet precious adorable boy
in different ways.
HE’S FIFTEEN!
His conscience suddenly sounds like Seokjin-hyung. Good. That will definitely
help him keep it in his pants.
 
1 year later
Yoongi gets lost in everything except what he wants most. Everything from
before their debut is a crazy whirlwind of promotions and makeup and dancing
and ... well, just insanity.
But the work doesn’t stop. They need to stay relevant, they need to stay in the
limelight, they need to release something else soon.
So Yoongi works and writes and drinks coffee and alcohol and throws himself
into the music and the raps and the emotions, and he loses more weight and
tries but fails to sleep. They have new choreography to learn, new lines to
sing, new music to write.
The debut and the comeback blur together in Yoongi’s mind and sometimes he
can’t remember which song is on which album.
But two mini-albums. They need more. And they need more. They need something
else.
Sometimes there are breaks.
Most of the time there is work.
Their first album, the first one with enough songs to be called an album, is
released right before Jungkook’s sixteenth birthday.
Yoongi’s crush has grown to outright love at this point. Jungkook can do
anything. Jungkook is perfect. And he’s the most perfect maknae, making sure
his hyungs are hydrated, doing his best to be a good maknae to cause less
stress. He teases them when he can get away with it (which is most of the
time), and he’s cuddly when he’s homesick or worried about school. Most of the
time he goes to Seokjin-hyung for his problems. That makes sense. Jin-hyung is
the oldest.
Jungkook says that the members raised him. Yoongi likes to think they raised
each other.
They finalize lines and music and start working on dances. Jimin has turned
from an amazing contemporary dancer to a fluid and gorgeous hip-hop dancer. He
and Hoseok have dance-offs whenever they can. They work together for hours
after everyone else has gone on home, usually the same amount of time that
Yoongi works in the studio. Sometimes with Jungkook; there are fans that still
don’t think he should be rapping, so he always does his best.
He’s told Jungkook that he was such a good rapper already, but Jungkook insists
on practicing more.
Namjoon gives Yoongi a look and a waggle of his eyebrows when Jungkook does the
insisting within earshot of the other members.
Yoongi scowls and then has to apologize to Jungkook whose face falls and he
mutters an apology, and Yoongi spends more time being as nice as possible to
their insecure maknae who has fewer reasons to be insecure than all the other
members combined. He is absolutely perfect.
A month after their comeback, just after Jungkook-ah’s sixteenth birthday that
they celebrate on camera with a cake , Yoongi realizes that he should have seen
it coming.
Through all the insanity, he and Jungkook are almost inseparable. It is only
Hoseok that can drag him from the studio back to the apartment for sleep and a
meal. And it is usually Jungkook who is with him, or in the dance studio, who
Hoseok also has to drag back to their small apartment.
Really. Yoongi should have seen it coming.
They’re hunched over a mixing board, and Yoongi is talking about technique and
giving the kid pointers on writing his own songs and lyrics. They want to have
solo songs on an album.
It’s silent for a moment as they listen to a track that Yoongi laid the day
before.
“Hyung?” Jungkook whispers.
And Yoongi glances up in worry because Jungkook usually only calls him that now
when he’s worried about something.
Sure enough, he’s biting his lower lip, his teeth digging into the pale skin
underneath. The beauty mark is revealed over and over, and Yoongi stares,
watching it stretch and disappear. His chest tightens and his feelings flutter.
God, he’s so cute.
“Hyung,” Jungkook says again, this time with a bit more confidence.
Yoongi realizes that it looks like he’s been staring at the boy’s lips, well,
he was, but not really.
Yes, really, you ass.
God, did he licks his own lips? He hopes he didn’t, but he probably did. Fuck.
He tries to look at Jungkook’s eyes. As soon as their gazes meet, Jungkook
leaves forward and presses a short quick peck to his lips, and then he leans
away, almost too far, the chair rolling back a few inches.
Their eyes meet again.
Yoongi is staring. He can’t breathe. Frozen with the feel of that shaking,
courageous kiss on his mouth.
But Jungkook takes his inability to move as a rejection, and he stammers
through an apology, bowing over and over, and he staggers to his feet. He grabs
a sweater from the chair and leaves the studio, the door shutting behind his
even lower bow with a quiet click that’s loud in Yoongi’s ears.
“Well, fuck,” he whispers in the silence.
He’s aware of himself enough to save their work and to turn off all the
machines and the lights as he leaves the studio. He grabs what he thinks is his
sweater, but in his haste, Jungkook took Yoongi’s.
Yoongi holds the fabric up to his nose and inhales. Jungkook always smells so
clean. Natural and neutral. Sometimes he smells of chemical cologne, but he
prefers to just be clean.
Yoongi likes cologne more. For himself. For others.
But the calm scent of the maknae has his head swimming. His lips are tingling.
Fuck.
He walks to the dorms slowly, trying to figure out what he wants to do.
Jungkook has made the first move. Does that mean he can do what he wants
without feeling guilty? Or does that mean he has to be the grown up here and
break Jungkook’s heart?
Yoongi doesn’t know.
To his surprise, Jungkook isn’t home. No one has seen him, which means he went
for a run to clear his mind or to think or ... Yoongi isn’t sure.
Namjoon wants to ask, can tell that Yoongi has something ... something ... to
say, but he doesn’t ask. But Namjoon does tell him not to worry, which means
Jungkook called or texted him.
Yoongi still worries.
---
It’s past two in the morning when Yoongi wakes up and can’t figure out why.
There are noises of the others sleeping around them, Namjoon’s heavier snores,
Hoseok’s restless leg twitching against Jimin’s hip, and Jimin’s soft breaths
that he swears isn’t snoring.
Yoongi smiles as he listens to his bandmates sleep.
Seokjin-hyung mumbles something in his sleep, something that sounds like
Namjoon’s name.
And then Yoongi realizes what is wrong. There is no hot, muscled body next to
him. There isn’t a strong, willowy arm thrown over his waist or a thick thigh
pressing teasingly against his crotch.
Yoongi sits up carefully. He notices five other lumps strewn across their beds.
Just five.
Where is the maknae?
Yoongi carefully crawls over Hoseok and stumbles toward the dresser that holds
all of their phones. He takes his and heads out of the room, ready to call the
maknae whose phone is missing.
In the hallway, he hears soft breaths, steady movements, small whimpers.
Smirking, Yoongi heads toward the living room. He’s lived in close confines
with enough boys and men to know the sounds of someone trying to jerk off in
private.
It doesn’t take much time for Yoongi to see that it’s their maknae. His phone
is bright near his head, though he isn’t looking at it. There is a wire from an
earbud in his ear.
Yoongi wonders if he should wait, go back to bed. But then he remembers the
touch of lips against his.
Is Jungkook thinking about him? What is he listening to?
He doesn’t stop himself from moving closer to the couch. Jungkook is wearing a
black tank top, that’s all. His boxers are hooked around one ankle, foot
dangling from the arm of the couch. The other leg is bent at the knee, hanging
a little off the side of the couch. In the dim light, he can make out the
shadows of his stomach, the beauty of his body, and ... holy fuck ... his cock.
Long and hard in his hand. His strokes are even, his hand veiny from being
tight around the shaft. Precome glistens in the dim light.
“H-hyung!”
Yoongi’s gaze snaps up to Jungkook’s. Their eyes meet, and it’s a long moment
later that Yoongi realizes that Jungkookie did not cover up, did not stop
stroking his cock, was still listening to whatever was on his phone.
Yoongi swallows.
“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers, the word full of hope. “Hyung, please.”
In the light of the phone, Yoongi sees his lips, just those lips and that
beauty mark. He moves around the couch, closer to to his face, closer to those
lips. Arousal thrums under his skin, heating his body. He stands over Jungkook,
only his breath louder than Jungkook’s movements.
“Hyung, I ... hyung.”
Yoongi shuts his eyes and tilts his head back. He is so going to hell for this.
But it’s almost three a.m. and he’s tired, and he’s spent the last year keeping
himself away from the adorable maknae. He rubs himself through his sweats and
Jungkook whimpers. Fingers tug at the band, dipping into his boxers, hot
against skin. And he doesn’t stop Jungkook from pulling them down. They do get
caught on his dick, and he has to shift and adjust. They slide down his legs
and he kicks them off, leaving him naked.
Yoongi wants to watch Jungkook touch himself, but it’s his mouth that
captivates him. He’s stroking himself, doesn’t know when he started, doesn’t
really care, just keeps his eyes on the maknae’s face, on his lips, on his
eyes, on his pretty pretty cheeks. And that beauty mark.
The phone brightness changes and he looks over at it, and realizes that it’s
one of his old songs on repeat. Just words, streamline rapping, and the maknae
is fucking into his fist over it.
Yoongi groans, his knees shaking.
“Hyung, hyung.”
Yoongi shushes him and speeds up his strokes. He’s shaking too bad, on the edge
of coming already, and he wavers a little. The only thing he can do is use the
couch to cushion himself, and his knees hit the edge of it, his hand going to
the back. It leaves him curled over Jungkook’s head, his dick positioned right
at his mouth.
Yoongi moans deeply and has little to no control over his orgasm when he tilts
his dick down, holds it steady and presses the tip against Jungkookie’s plump
lower lip, covering that beauty mark.
Jungkook whimpers, his tongue flashing out for a lick against the soft head,
and Yoongi bites his lip against a louder whimper. He moves himself down, the
tip, the head, the hole of his dick pressing against that beauty mark. And he
comes, shuddering through a release that covers the dark mark and slips over
Jungkook’s lower lip and into his open mouth.
Jungkook’s body shakes, his mouth shuts and he swallows deeply as the rest of
Yoongi’s orgasm paints over his mouth and cheeks.
Yoongi sags, his knees falling from the couch to the floor, and he leans his
head against Jungkook’s bare, sweaty shoulder.
Through the rushing in his head, the throbbing of his cock, Yoongi realizes
that Jungkook is still stroking himself. He pushes up and stares for a long
time at the come covering their maknae’s face. He feels guilty, he feels like a
horrible human being, and wants to get up and run, but he also wants to climb
onto Jungkook’s cock and never get off. So he does the best thing he can think
of and shifts down the couch with his mouth open and licks at the soft, wide
head of his dick to return the favor of a mind-numbing orgasm.
Jungkook whines are louder and Yoongi shushes him again, with lips pressed
against the tip. Fingers dig into his hair and Yoongi opens his mouth, sucks on
Jungkook’s dick. It’s wider than his, longer too. Lucky maknae.
And if this isn’t just a one-night thing, if he can get more than one night,
get to sit on that cock and never get off, lucky him.
Yoongi bobs his head, taking more Jungkook’s fingers tighten in his hair, his
butt lifts off the couch through his shudders, and then Yoongi’s got a mouthful
of come that slides down his throat and he pulls off to cough and swallow, and
Jungkook stammers an apology while he continues to pulse come over his cobbled
stomach, muscles tight with pleasure and glistening in the low light with
sweat.
Yoongi watches until his release stops and then he moves, back to the maknae’s
mouth. He stares in the light from the phone. His come is dripping down
Jungkook’s chin and cheeks, and there, the beauty mark, just visible under a
sticky clump of come.
Yoongi moans and leans down and licks up that clump of his own come before
moving his mouth up and sliding his tongue along Jungkook’s lower lip and then
into his mouth, kissing Jungkook deeply. Jungkook follows the heavy kisses the
best he can, and Yoongi slows down a little, his fingers soft as they stroke
down Jungkook’s neck. There’s come there too.
“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers. “I’m sorry, Kookie.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “S-sorry. Sorry? Why ...”
“This isn’t ... you’re still young, and I ...”
Jungkook protests. “No, hyung, no. I ... I like you. I ...”
“I know, but you’re ... young.”
“Maybe. Just ...” Jungkook struggles for a moment and then there is music in
his ear. His own voice. His own songs. Really, really old songs. “I’ve been
jerking off to this for three fucking years.”
“Language, maknae,” Yoongi says automatically, though he’s smiling.
Three years. Since he was thirteen.
“I ... I ... I like you, hyung.”
Yoongi takes a deep breath and nods. Break his heart. Break his heart. It will
be better for the band, for the boy, he’s still young. Break his heart.
But Yoongi can’t.
He looks back down, at the tantalizing beauty mark, and leans down and kisses
it before sliding his lips over Jungkook’s. The kiss lasts for long enough that
Jungkook picks up on how to do it well, moving his lips just the right way, a
come-flavored tongue into Yoongi’s mouth at just the right time. Golden Maknae.
Good at everything.
Yoongi smiles and pulls away, and then he laughs.
“What?” Jungkook says, his cheeks flushing red.
“You’re covered in come and it’s gross. Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s ... not ...
that shouldn’t have been your first sexual experience.”
Jungkook moans and nods. “It’s fine. Perfect. Been ... been wanting you to come
on my face for months.”
Yoongi groans and kisses him again. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and back to
bed before someone else comes looking. Seokjin-hyung is going to kill me.”
Jungkook smiles, the pretty shy gorgeous smile that Yoongi remembers from the
first time they met. Yoongi holds his hand on the way to the bathroom. He uses
toilet paper first and then a warm washcloth to wipe up the come on Jungkook’s
face, neck and stomach. His cock is still hard, jutting out between them, and
Yoongi pumps it a few times, just to get the boy to moan.
“I like you,” Yoongi says. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? Decide what
it means?”
Jungkook bites his lower lip, stretching that beauty mark, and Yoongi moans,
leaning toward him to lick at it. Jungkook doesn’t stop him, kisses him back,
arms around his waist.
It takes too long and too much effort for Yoongi to end the kiss and lead the
maknae back to their shared bedroom. They find clean boxers and then slip into
the space between Jimin and the wall.
Yoongi curls up against Jungkook’s taller body, tucks his head and his arms
against Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook curls a leg over his hip, his cock still a
little hard.
“Goodnight, baby,” Yoongi whispers.
“Goodnight, hyung.”
Yoongi dreams of smiles, kisses, and beauty marks.
---
Yoongi wakes up to mostly silence and warmth. He blinks open his eyes, knows
he’s still bundled up in Jungkook. He lifts his head and notices that the rest
of the room is empty.
Seokjin-hyung let them sleep in. He’ll have to find his hyung and thank him for
that later.
Comfortable and warm, Yoongi snuggles back against Jungkook’s body. A heavy
moan has him stopping, and then he does it again, his breath speeding up at the
firm erection pressed against his backside.
“Mm, hyung, Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook is sleepy, his body moving on its own.
Instinct. Pleasure.
Yoongi doesn’t stop him, just gives him better access. He shifts enough to push
down his underwear, grips the band of Jungkook’s boxers and drags them down
enough to bare his cock. Give him a bit of skin to rut against. The effect is
immediate. Jungkook’s arm tightens around his middle, his moan is obscene, and
his hips move, sliding the slick tip against Yoongi’s skin.
And Yoongi is hard. The light bit of lust flares hot and now, now, now, and he
shifts back a little more, lifting his leg. Jungkook’s erection slips between
his thighs, and his grip on Yoongi’s hip tightens while he thrusts. It’s too
dry, just skin on skin, but Yoongi loves the touch, loves the moans buried in
his shoulder. He twists for a better angle, shaking when Jungkook’s dick
presses under his balls. He strokes himself, turning his head enough to bite a
pillow to stifle his moans.
Jungkook bites his shoulder, hard. His body suddenly shudders and warm come
coats between Yoongi’s thighs and ass.
Jungkook hums, a dirty sleepy sound. His lips are wet in open mouthed kisses
all along Yoongi’s shoulders and back, and his dick is still hard, still
sliding between Yoongi’s thighs. He wants that dick inside him, fuck how long
has it been? He curls his hips in just the right way and instead of between his
thighs, Jungkook is sliding along his cleft, dirty with come and so so
sensitive. Yoongi’s body is begging to be filled, throbbing and clenching.
“Want ...” Jungkook whispers into his ear, his voice shaking a little. His
kisses have gone a little softer, but his hand is now curled around Yoongi’s
hip, fingers clumsy as he grips Yoongi’s balls, just barely not in the way of
Yoongi’s hand.
“What do you want?” Yoongi whispers. Gasps. Moans. Confesses. Fuck.
“Want ... want to ... want you to come on my face again.”
Yoongi is not expecting that, expecting something about a dick in his ass, but
it pulls the memories of last night right to the tip of his dick, that beauty
mark, come sliding over his chin, and Yoongi has just enough mental capacity to
pull the pillow over his face to muffle his cry before he shoots his load all
over the bed where Jimin usually sleeps.
“Fuck,” Yoongi gasps and tries to press closer to Jungkook’s dick that doesn’t
really seem to be flagging.
“Need a shower,” Jungkook mutters, voice sleepy soft. His dick is still sliding
over Yoongi’s skin, and if they did not share this room with five other people,
Yoongi would be showing the maknae even more. He manages to turn around in bed,
spreading the come on his hand onto Jungkook’s chest. His nipple, and Jungkook
shudders, mouth open.
Yoongi leans forward to lick at the beauty mark and then give him a kiss. He
pulls back with a face.
“Morning breath,” he says.
Jungkook grunts. “Morning face.”
“Did you just call me ugly?”
Jungkook smiles, eyes still shut. “Maybe ... hyung.”
“Yah, disrespectful!” But he can’t even stop his wide smile.
Jungkook smirks and takes a deep breath, relaxing.
“No, no, maknae. Time to get up. We definitely need to shower.”
With a pout and yawn, Jungkook slides to the edge of the bed. Yoongi follows
after him and realizes he just spread even more come all over the sheets. Fuck.
He’s going to make sure that Jimin doesn’t sleep in it.
The shower is empty, thankfully, and the two of them strip down and stand under
the shower spray. Jungkook is already taller than Yoongi, still growing, and
strong already. They use Jungkook’s soap, and Yoongi doesn’t mind. Jungkook
always smells so good.
“Hyung?” Jungkook whispers, the word almost lost to the water.
Yoongi looks up at his face, gaze dropping to that beauty mark just once.
“What?”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, that. What ... what ...?”
Yoongi cups his cheek. “Maknae’s so cute,” he coos, and Jungkook blushes and
tries to pull away, but there isn’t really enough space. He peppers Jungkook’s
lips and cheeks and neck in kisses, until Jungkook is smiling.
“I like you,” Yoongi whispers. “I like you a lot, Jungkook-ah. Kookie. My baby
Kookie.”
“Yah, shut up, hyung,” Jungkook tries, but Yoongi can tell he’s pleased.
“You like me?” Yoongi asks.
Jungkook nods, eyes going wide. “Always ... always have.”
“So ... there’s a lot to think about. We’re about to debut. We can’t be open
about this, maybe with the members, but even the managers could fuck this up,
so outside of this apartment, no touching, no kissing, no ...”
“No staring at my lips.”
Yoongi glares. “Yeah, none of that.”
Jungkook smiles. He bites his lower lip again and leans forward for a kiss.
“But ... but we’ll try, right?”
“Yes, of course, yes.”
Yoongi deepens the kiss. They kiss in the shower until the water starts to go
cold.
“Do we tell the others right away?” Jungkook asks as they’re drying off.
Yoongi shakes his head. “Seokjin-hyung is going to kill me. We’ll just ... be
gradual about it.”
Jungkook looks away and nods. “I kinda wanted to hold your hand, but ...”
“Nothing wrong with that, kid,” Yoongi says.
They spend a few minutes in the bedroom kissing with wandering hands on bare
skin. If there wasn’t an apartment full of band members, Yoongi would have
pushed Jungkook to his knees to see if he could cover that beauty mark with
come again.
Instead, they dress and head out into the noise of the others, their fingers
entwined.
At first, only Namjoon notices, a smirk on his lips, an eyebrow in the air.
Yoongi flips him off behind Jungkook’s back, and then spends the afternoon
coddling Jungkook and hugging him and touching him and curling up on the couch
with him. Jungkook’s smile grows through the day and Yoongi preens about how
cute he is.
By the end of the day, as Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon are attempting to get
everyone to bed before they start recording the next day, Seokjin-hyung finally
notices that Yoongi and Jungkook are a little too close together, a little too
focused on each other, faces a little too close, lips a little wet and swollen.
His eyes narrow, but Namjoon tugs on his arm and whispers something in his ear
and the glare only says, Don’t hurt the maknae, and Yoongi nods in
acknowledgement.
They’re the last two in the living room and as soon as Namjoon leaves, giving
them a very pointed, “Five minutes before I come back in here,” Yoongi has
Jungkook pressed to the arm of the couch and their lips together (after a quick
lap at the beauty mark).
“You’re the best, Kookie,” Yoongi whispers.
“Do you think Seokjin-hyung noticed?” Jungkook asks, worrying his lower lip.
“Oh definitely. I’m sure as soon as he and Joonie figure it out, we’re going to
get quite the lecture. Or at least, I will.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen in alarm.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi says. “I won’t let them talk me out of ...”
“No, not that, hyung. Fuck. Hyung!”
“What?” Yoongi says, now really worried since Jungkook is pushing him off.
“We didn’t change the sheets on the bed!”
Yoongi’s eyes go just as wide, and there’s a loud shout of, “MIN YOONGI! WHAT
THE HELL IS ON THE BED?” from the bedroom.
It’s definitely Seokjin-hyung, with Jimin whining in the background. Someone is
laughing. Probably Taehyung.
“And now you're going to die,” Jungkook says.
“Better get as many kisses in before then as I can,” Yoongi whispers and leans
down to do just that.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!