Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4125942.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jeongguk_|_Jungkook/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Character:
      Jeon_Jeongguk_|_Jungkook, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Additional Tags:
      Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Dark_Humor, Light_BDSM, Handcuffs, Crying,
      Spanking, Whipping, Prostate_Massage, Prostate_Milking, Breathplay,
      Desperation, Begging, kookie's_a_horny_brat_and_nothing_going_to_stop
      him, yoongi's_got_a_lot_of_pent-up_sexual_deviance, this_is_just_porn,
      Revenge_Sex, Violence, Blood, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga_Is_Bad_at_Feelings,
      Overstimulation
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-13 Updated: 2017-11-10 Chapters: 3/? Words: 12335
****** I Want To Have You ******
by jenistark
Summary
     Jungkook wants. That's all that matters, apparently.
***** Brats Will Be Brats *****
Yoongi's awake and he's not happy. Which is basically his mindset every time he
wakes up but this is especially annoying. He hasn't slept in two days and this
is his first nap in his own bed at three in the afternoon. For the love of god,
who deemed themselves unfortunate enough to wake him up? Because once he gets
his bearings, he's going to get up and beat the shi-
Wait a minute. Well that's if he can get up. He can tell he's trying to lift
his hand but...he can't. What the-
He opens his eyes. And flinches as much as he's physically capable of.
“Yah! Jungkook, what the hell?” His voice is scratchy from sleep and not nearly
as intimidating as he'd like it to be. Jungkook smirks like he's trying not to.
“Ah, did I wake you?” And the question is stupid because he's currently
hovering over Yoongi, hands pinning down his wrists and knees between his legs,
spreading them in a way Yoongi is realizing he's zero percent comfortable with.
“Shut up. I'm trying to sleep, go awaaaay.” That sounds a lot whinier than
Yoongi was aiming for. He tries to pull away and roll over, assuming Jungkook's
just messing with him for whatever reason. But Jungkook doesn't give. He tries
to pull again and suddenly he's very aware of how much stronger Jungkook's
gotten recently. He doesn't even look like he's trying but Yoongi can't move a
centimeter. It's a little sobering and he finds himself suddenly very awake.
“Jungkook, what the fuck? This isn't funny.” He sounds more exasperated than
mad and honestly he just wants to sleep. He doesn't have the patience for
whatever this kid wants right now. “Let go and get out.”
“No.”
It's not said harshly or cutely. It's just a straight no. It catches Yoongi off
guard. He watches Jungkook's face and sees the way his eyes follow his lips,
the way they trail off to linger across his jawline, flicker down to his neck.
He licks his lips subconsciously, shifting uneasily. His brow furrows, all his
confusion and judgment easy to read.
“Jungkookie...” And those eyes flicker up suddenly, locking with his own and he
feels stupid for swallowing nervously. Jungkook's eyes are lidded and dark and
there's so much heat there that Yoongi thinks he can feel it on his cheeks but
fuck is he blushing, that's what it is, isn't it, holy fuck. No, no way in
hell.
“Stop it. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you need to stop.” He
tries to pull at his wrists again, putting a little more force into his
struggling. “Jungkook! I'm not fucking kidding, okay?” But Jungkook doesn't
budge. And he's so quiet. Too quiet. Yoongi stops with a huff, starting to
genuinely get angry. “Yah! What do you want?!” He wonders in the back of head
if maybe someone will hear him yelling. He doesn't know what to make of the
fact that he hopes someone will.
“What do I want?” Jungkook's voice is a low, low dangerous whisper and Yoongi
feels his fingers sliding across his wrists, moving to interlace with his. He
pushes their hands farther up the bed, letting his body stretch in a languidly
feline manner, eyes never leaving Yoongi's face. The movement spreads Yoongi's
legs a little more and he's so very aware of all of it, of Jungkook's warmth,
hovering in the small space between their bodies.
Yoongi wants to laugh. It's absurd. Jungkook's a fucking kid and he really
needs to consider who he's dealing with here. Yoongi wants to laugh.
But Jungkook's pressing his forehead against his and suddenly he can't really
breathe. His lips are tingling from the close proximity of Jungkook's lips and
he bites them to keep from he's not even sure what exactly, until Jungkook
rolls his hips deep and slow against him, and it's moaning, that's what he's
trying to stop. He fails miraculously, lips parting in a pout as his body
arches into the touch.
“No, no no no,” he gasps out, turning his face away. “Jungkook, stop.” His
voice is breathy and desperate and fuck, when did he get so turned on? The heat
is overwhelming and, god damn, it feels so good and-no. This can't be
happening.
For what feels like the millionth time, Yoongi tries to pull away again, but
Jungkook just presses against him, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
He bites down and sucks hard and Yoongi moans something desperate, curling into
the sensation, legs pressing against Jungkook's waist.
“Ngh, ah, Jungkookie, please,” he moans, and he sounds more like he's being
fucked than trying to get away. God, he's so fucked. “Let me go. Nnnhhh, I
don't-” He cuts himself off with a moan as Jungkook rolls his hips again.
“You don't what?” Jungkook murmurs and his voice is so husky it barely sounds
like words so much as purring in his ears. Yoongi can't help the full-body
shivers.
“I don't-ah-don't want this,” he groans, body arching. Jungkook moves a hand
down to wrap around Yoongi's waist, spreading his fingers across his lower
back, guiding his hips deeper against his own. Yoongi tries to suppress his
cry, all but panting. “No, Jungkookie, ah, shhh-” He takes his freed hand and
tries to push himself up but it only presses him further against Jungkook, who
starts mouthing at his earlobe, teeth nipping the skin. He falls back,
absolutely defeated, fingers gripping the bedsheets.
Jungkook leans back slowly, hands trailing down Yoongi's stomach, only to push
back up his chest underneath his white shirt. His lips are already red, cheeks
flushed, and Yoongi can feel how hard he is with his hips pressed against him.
“Mm, you don't want this?” The question falls slowly from his lips, eyes
fixated on Yoongi's bare tummy as his shirt pushes up. Yoongi's still panting
as he tries to sit up.
“I can't,” he breathes. He doesn't expect it when Jungkook shoves him back down
against the bed.
“Shut up.”
Yoongi feels more than a little affronted. “Yah-”
“You can't,” Jungkook cuts him off. “Why? I'm too young?!” He yells and grips
Yoongi's hair. “I'm so sick of that. Shut. Up.” He punctuates each word with a
hair pull.
“Aish, stop it. That hurts.” Yoongi tries to sound mad but each pull bares his
neck a little more and it makes him feel vulnerable. Jungkook takes notice,
pulling again, and Yoongi's breath hitches. Jungkook smirks.
“Look at you, you old pervert.” Yoongi purses his lips at the accusation, but
loses it in a gasp when Jungkook scrapes the nails of his other hand down his
stomach and over the front of his pants, pressing his palm into his erection.
Yoongi bucks his hips hard, trying to bring his knees together but only
pressing them into Jungkook's sides.
Jungkook starts to undo the front of his jeans and finally it occurs to Yoongi
to try and stop it, a hand weakly pulling at Jungkook's wrist. Jungkook glances
up at him condescendingly. He continues undoing the button and tugging down the
zipper. “Ngh, Jungkook...”
“You want me to stop?” He slips his hand inside Yoongi's boxers, fingers
wrapping around his cock.
“Y-yes. Ah, fuck.” Yoongi's hand is still wrapped around his wrist. It tightens
as he starts to stroke him slowly.
“Liar.” His thumb massages the spot just underneath the head of his cock and
Yoongi pants, eyes rolling back. He strokes him a few more times, pulling his
hair again for good measure, and Yoongi practically whimpers, gripping the
sheets, eyes shut tight.
Suddenly Jungkook stops, leaning back and removing his hand. Before Yoongi can
complain or pretend to try to get away, Jungkook grips his shoulder, forcing
him to flip over. Yoongi finds himself pressed into the bed before he even
thinks to struggle, legs again spread on either side of Jungkook's knees.
He pushes himself up onto his elbows and he's surprised to find himself so
shaky. He doesn't have much time to think about it when he feels Jungkook's
hand in his hair again and he's yanked up into a sitting position, ass grinding
down on Jungkook's lap. He doesn't even think about hiding his moan when he
feels Jungkook's cock rutting against him. His head drops back on Jungkook's
shoulder and Jungkook moans low in his ear, hips grinding up.
He wraps an arm around Yoongi's hips, keeping him firmly against him. His other
hand moves up to Yoongi's mouth, fingers pushing past his lips and pressing
against his tongue. It feels second nature to suck on them; he doesn't even
think about it, too busy moaning around them as Jungkook writhes his hips
against him.
And god, Yoongi feels drunk. His body is both on fire and numb with pleasure
and it seems to be moving of its own will and he swears to god or whoever is
listening that he doesn't want this, he really doesn't. He doesn't want
Jungkook, he really can't.
He briefly wonders if Jungkook is telepathic when he finds himself shoved down
again. His pants and boxers are roughly yanked down, cock bouncing up against
his stomach, and he barely has time to brace himself before he feels wet
fingers pressing against his hole, one finger slipping in. His breath catches,
hips canting backward. He can hear himself gasping out 'no' over and over in a
way that sounds a lot like yes and he doesn't know what he wants anymore.
It's vaguely uncomfortable, much like his general state of being right now, but
Jungkook works him fast and rough and one finger becomes two becomes three very
fast and the pressure is more pleasurable than he wants to admit, though his
shaking breath and body give it away. Jungkook presses his fingers down and
curls them deep and Yoongi keens, hands pulling at the sheets.
He hears a zipper and the shifting of fabric and Jungkook's hand pushes him
down between the shoulder blades. His hips cant back even farther and he moans
as he feels Jungkook replace his fingers with the head of his cock. Somehow he
still finds the audacity to moan a “no, stop stop,” and Jungkook moves his hand
up to grip his hair again, pulling hard as he pushes into Yoongi mercilessly.
Yoongi cries out, body writhing as Jungkook buries deep, both hands moving to
grab at Yoongi's wrists. He presses him into the mattress, mouth finding the
crook of his neck again and sucking the already red skin. He doesn't wait long
to start thrusting. And when he does, Yoongi's mind is static. Too much
pleasure and pain and confusion and frustration and he can't even hear what his
mouth is spewing but he catches words like “fuck” and “please” and “more”
repeatedly like a broken pornographic audio track.
And he still hears “no” and “stop” like it fucking matters anymore and he
thinks it riles Jungkook up because he feels teeth against his throat every
time and Jungkook grips his wrists so hard they start to go cold. And the
combination of “stop, Jungkookie, please” makes him thrust so hard Yoongi's
voice cracks and thinks he sees stars.
Jungkook moans in his ear and it doesn't sound as deep and dominating as it did
before, but more desperate and broken and Yoongi can tell he's close. The
familiar burn in his belly is there too as every thrust grinds his cock against
the mattress.
“Ngh, hyung,” Jungkook cries, forehead pressing against his shoulder. His
exhales end on moans and Yoongi pushes back into his thrusts, suddenly
desperate to hear Jungkook fall apart.
Jungkook doesn't fail him, moans breaking off with small whimpers before his
body stiffens, a choked off cry as he comes hard.
His stilted thrusts take Yoongi over the edge and he moans Jungkook's name into
the sheets as he shudders and feels the sudden wet heat between himself and the
bed.
He's still trembling in the aftershocks when Jungkook pulls out, flipping his
pliant body over. Yoongi feels Jungkook's hands in his hair and suddenly the
brat is kissing him, deep and languid, like he deserves it. Yoongi gives in for
only a second before he finds himself scoffing, pushing hard at his chest.
“Get out.”
Yoongi doesn't even know if he's being serious or just being stubborn, but for
a second Jungkook looks like the scolded maknae that he should've looked like
from the start. But then he smirks and Yoongi's more annoyed at that than
anything else.
“Okay, Yoongi-hyung,” he says as he tucks himself back into his jeans, and
there's something mocking in that quiet tone. He pats Yoongi's knee lightly as
he gets up, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself as he walks out, shutting
the door behind him.
Yoongi watches the closed door as he adjusts himself and he's not even sure if
he's mad. He's certainly not happy. But he's not upset. He wonders if he's in
shock or something stupid like that. If anything, he can get some fucking sleep
now, he supposes. He hears the TV turn on in the living room and scoffs. Since
when did Jungkook start thinking he could just take whatever he wants? When did
he start thinking he could take whatever he wants from Yoongi?
He turns away from the door, letting sleep haze over his mind again. It's sort
of amusing though, he thinks with a smirk tugging lightly at his lips, that
Jungkook thinks he can take something from Yoongi with no consequences.
It's fucking hilarious.
***** Divine Retribution *****
Chapter Summary
     The kid's gotta pay back, with interest.
Chapter Notes
     Guys, GUYS, I don't even know where to begin with y'all.
     1) Sorry it's taken me over a fucking year to bang out a new chapter.
     A pervert's writer's block is a bitch.
     2) How did this fic gets so much attention??? So many kudos and
     comments, I can't even BELIEVE. I get one or two every DAY. Y'all are
     some depraved fucks, yo. I love you all.
     3) Prepare yourselves for some major debauchery.
Yoongi has absolutely no shame.
He wears low-cut, short-sleeved v-necks and he gives zero fucks about hiding
the deep purple flower blossoms of bruises on his neck and wrists. The boys
count their blessings that he's at least smart enough to put a shaggy little
hipster scarf around his neck when they go out, chunky leather bracelets on his
wrists.
At first it's downright alarming. Namjoon drops a glass, and Hoseok and Jimin
yell questions ranging from “who fucked you that hard?” to “wait, were you
mugged or something?” But Yoongi's so unconcerned and careless about it that
eventually everyone else stops caring too. Of course every time he walks in a
room he can see the uncomfortable lingering stare from whoever happens to be in
there, but he genuinely can't be bothered.
Even Jungkook's eyes linger. Which Yoongi will admit is a little more
interesting. Sure he sees the dominant pride and a sadistic glint but when one
of the other boys asks what happened, Yoongi shrugs and says nothing special
and he doesn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes narrow just a little bit. He
doesn't know what to make of the feeling in his chest but it feels like small
victory.
But of course it's not enough, no way. Now that he's aware of it, Jungkook's
been going about like he owns the world lately and Yoongi's damned if he's
going to let their baby boy start believing he can carry himself like the big
kids now.
It's easy enough to set it up.
The rest of the boys are asleep in their rooms and Namjoon said he'd be out
late at the studio. Sure it was a little weird that Yoongi was adamant on not
going with him but he lied through his teeth something about not feeling well
and needing to sleep it off. If Yoongi thought he needed rest, then no one was
going to question it.
The click of the handcuffs are what wake Jungkook up.
They're necessary, Yoongi decides, glancing at the faded bruises on his wrists.
He can deny a lot of things but being weaker than Jungkook isn't one of them.
"Mm...?" Jungkook mumbles, lifting his head up. He's lying on his stomach, on a
small mattress conveniently next to the water pipe that runs through the room.
(Actually Yoongi had been moving his mattress incrementally over the last few
days for precisely that reason.) The chain of the handcuffs shifts around the
pipe as Jungkook tries to move his hands to brush his hair out of his face.
Yoongi passively watches Jungkook try to process why that's not exactly working
out. He can't blame him, really; it's like two in the morning.
"Wha..." Jungkook looks around, sleep-clouded eyes landing on Yoongi sitting
cross-legged a couple feet away. It takes a few seconds but Jungkook goes from
zero to a hundred very fast and suddenly he looks wide awake, pulling at the
handcuffs like they'll open now that he knows what they are.
"Ah, did I wake you?" And there's no malice at the callback question. Just a
lot of sass. Still Jungkook looks at him like he's Lucifer reincarnate and he
glances down at himself, suddenly aware of how very shirtless he is.
"Wh-what's this, what're you doing?" Jungkook's voice hasn't caught up with his
brain and it's still sluggish and thick with sleep. Yoongi tilts his head
innocently and watches Jungkook's wrists, watches them twist and test the
strength of the metal. He reaches a hand out and he's pleased when Jungkook
flinches. But he just places it on his shoulders, rubbing them lightly.
Jungkook looks understandably wary.
Yoongi moves fast but gracefully, gets close and straddles Jungkook's hips,
makes a show of just sitting on his boxer-clad butt. Jungkook whips his head
around to watch him so fast Yoongi thinks he might pull something. He sees the
fear in Jungkook's eyes and just stares back, hands on his defined shoulder
blades.
God, Yoongi loves to feel dangerous. He slides a hand up into Jungkook's hair,
lets his fingers massage his scalp, and he can see Jungkook falter just a
little bit, the tiny part of his brain still wanting sleep temporarily lighting
up. He takes advantage and shoves the brat's head down onto his pillow.
He means to let go immediately, he does. He's not sure what compels him to hold
Jungkook there a little longer, to watch as Jungkook slowly jerks his head,
assuming Yoongi will let go at the first sign of resistance. He's not sure why
he waits until Jungkook starts to struggle, until his muffled voice starts to
sound panicked and his back arches to try and buck Yoongi off. He's not sure
why until he curls his fingers in Jungkook's thick black hair and pulls,
hearing Jungkook's wrecked gasps as he tries to take in air, rough coughs
ending in pitched whimpers. The sound goes straight to his cock and it's not
what he was looking for but isn't. that. interesting.
"Y...yoongi-hyung..." Jungkook pants between gulps of air. "Fuck..."
Yoongi just hums inquisitively, curiously. He presses down firmly on Jungkook's
shoulders, massaging. He kneads the tense muscles hard enough to make Jungkook
hiss, glancing back at him with both heat and apprehension. He moves his hands
upward, digging into triceps and forearms, thumbs brushing under the metal of
the handcuffs as he lies flat against Jungkook's back, half-hard against his
tailbone and breath hot against his ear. Jungkook's own breath is already
shaky.
"What do you want, Jungkookie?" Yoongi says lowly. Jungkook's eyebrows knit
together slightly. Teeth nip sharply at his ear and he yelps. "Answer me."
Jungkook huffs between hard breaths, still a little out of breath. "I...I know
what you're doing, ok? I get it."
"Oh, do you?"
"Yeah, what? You're trying to...to get back at me? Trying to scare me?" He has
the audacity to smile. "Go for it, Yoongi hyung. You don't scare me.
It's...it's not like you're going to hurt me." They're big words but his tone
is thin and Yoongi gets the feeling he's trying to convince himself more than
him. He nuzzles against Jungkook's hairline, breathes a laugh into his skin,
and he can feel the tension pulling the muscles taut underneath him.
"What do you want?" he repeats. He's met with stubborn silence. "Don't make me
ask you again." The strict tone's getting to the brat, he can tell.
"...I don't know," Jungkook mutters through gritted teeth.
"Ah, but you sure as hell knew what the fuck you wanted the other day, didn't
you?" Oh, and Yoongi's voice is venom. He sits back slightly, pulling one hand
back to Jungkook's throat, fingers pressing tight on either side. Jungkook lets
out a shaky exhale as Yoongi pulls back his other hand and begins to undo his
belt.
"What are you going to doing, huh?" Jungkook says breathily. "Gonna take what
you want?" Yoongi pauses, staring at Jungkook's disheveled hair. "Only gonna
prove what I knew all along." He tries to turn in Yoongi's grip to look back
but Yoongi only catches the flutter of his eyelashes. "You wanted it. From the
start."
Yoongi takes the time to roll his eyes very slowly as he pulls his belt from
the loops, making sure the leather rubs audibly against his jeans. When did
this kid get so callous? They've been giving him way too much slack. He grabs
the ends of the belt, gripping it tight. He scoots up slightly, settling
against the small of Jungkook's back. He can feel the slight confusion.
His hand moves from Jungkook's throat to his mouth, covering it and pinching
his nose, cutting off all air. Immediately Jungkook recoils and Yoongi sighs.
"Try not to scream."
The belt cuts through the air as he brings it down behind him, sharp against
Jungkook's ass. His hand barely muffles the choked-off cry. Jungkook bucks
underneath him and he pauses, waiting. He can feel him trying to pull in a
breath and holds tighter, bringing the belt down again. The handcuffs scrape
against the water pipe and Yoongi can see Jungkook's ears turning red. He sits
calmly, listening to the whines in his throat and the growing frantic jiggle of
metal. He swings his arm down again and the slap of leather has Jungkook
flinching, silent behind Yoongi's grip.
He lets go of Jungkook and he's rewarded again with those desperate gasps of
breath and straining whimpers like the kid's trying not to cry.
"I know you're stronger than that," Yoongi says, voice low. "You're not getting
out of this that easy." Jungkook pants, skin flushed and hands tightened into
fists.
"Hyung...stop."
"Fuck you," comes the short response, punctuated by sharp landing of the belt.
Jungkook yelps loudly before he's cut off again by Yoongi's grip. He lets go
immediately and Jungkook practically growls, pulling at the handcuffs. Yoongi
digs a fist in his hair again as he bucks hard underneath him, trying to unseat
him. "Easy, Seabiscuit." As he expects, it only makes him angrier and he can't
help a short laugh.
Jungkook collapses bitterly, Yoongi's hand still fiercely twisted in his hair.
He's still trying to catch his breath and Yoongi can see red marks start to
appear underneath the handcuffs. Good.
He sighs like he's bored, fingers spread out to scratch against Jungkook's
scalp. "You want me to stop, hm?" Jungkook's quiet but his anger is practically
brimming underneath his skin. "I'll make you a deal." Jungkook's shoulders
roll, muscles tensing and untensing, and Yoongi can tell he's considering it.
"If you can take a proper beating, without a sound, so no complaining...I'll
let you off easy."
"The hell do you mean a 'proper beating'?"
"Children have to be punished for their misbehavior."
That gets Jungkook's attention as he growls. "I told you I'm not a fucking
child!"
"Yah! Watch your fucking mouth." And yeah, that's usually a joke but Yoongi's
flat out serious as he shoves Jungkook's face back down into the pillow, belt
cracking once more. Jungkook cries out, pulling again at the cuffs. Yoongi can
see paint starting to scrape off the pipe.
"Hyung," he pants as he lifts his head up, "I-" He tries to continue talking
but instead he breaks off in whimpers, body writhing.
"What's your answer, Kookie?"
"Hm?" he whimpers, sounding a little hysterical. Yoongi raises his eyebrows,
unimpressed.
"The deal. You gonna take it?" He listens to the boy breathe harshly against
the mattress for a few moments, trying to collect himself. He lets him take the
time to slowly relax.
Wordlessly, he nods his head.
Yoongi doesn't hesitate. Leather comes down hard against clothed skin and
Jungkook tenses all over, recoiling, toes curling and fingernails digging into
his palms. But he stays silent. Yoongi's impressed but not surprised. Jungkook
can always take a challenge. He wonders how red the welts are under the fabric
of his boxers. He wonders if he's bleeding yet.
The next four hits are just as harsh, and relentless in their timing. Yoongi
can tell Jungkook begins to recognize exactly when to expect it, so on the
sixth hit, he pauses, hand raised in the air.
The reaction is perfect. Jungkook breaks with a very, small whimper deep in his
throat, not sure whether to raise his ass or pull away in anticipation. He's
shaking, Yoongi can feel it against his thighs. He aims lower this time,
leather biting against the curve of his ass and upper thigh, skirting the
sensitive skin of his perineum.
Jungkook almost screams.
Yoongi closes his eyes, listening as Jungkook struggles, voice cracked as he
pants, punctuating each exhale with a strained sob. Yoongi sighs in mock
disappointment.
"You're pretty loud for someone not making a sound, you know."
Jungkook shudders, cries more apparent now that Yoongi's acknowledged them. "I-
I'm sorry," he gasps between breaths.
"It's okay," Yoongi muttered, sounding almost remorseful. "I wasn't ever going
to go easy on you anyway."
Jungkook only has time to inhale harshly before Yoongi resumes his previous
position bent over, hand wrapped around his mouth and nose. Stifled whimpers
and the shuffling of sheets accompany the scrape of metal on paint and it's so
dementedly arousing that Yoongi has to remember to breathe. He lets go of
Jungkook's face for a few seconds, lets him draw in gasps of air and exhale
sobs, before he wraps his hand over it again, easily following the kid's
attempt to pull away. He breathes shallowly against Jungkook's temple, relying
on intuition to let him know when he's getting too close.
It's easy enough. Jungkook struggles more frantically, panics, but it's when he
starts to shiver, tries to curl in as his eyes flutter, that's when he lets go.
Jungkook's breaths are whiny and desperate between gulping inhales; he's
starting to all-out cry.
"Yo-yoongi, pl-...please, ngh," he whimpers between choked gasps, tears
trailing down his cheeks. "Ah, ngh, can't...I can't..."
Yoongi doesn't say anything, just runs his hands over Jungkook's shoulders, his
arms, through his hair. Jungkook trembles under his touch and it hides the fact
that Yoongi's shaking a little himself. His mind feels cloudy, hazy with power
and lust. He pushes up on his hands and knees, giving Jungkook a little room to
move. Jungkook's breathes are rattled, shaky, drool dripping down his lips with
his tears.
"You can't what?" Yoongi prods. Jungkook coughs roughly.
"I...I can't do this. It hurts."
"Yeah? You don't like it?"
The tone in Yoongi's voice must make Jungkook feel like he has options now
because he pushes up on his elbows slightly, gasping in pain as he brings up
his knees and feels the pain from the belt.
"Ah, ah, fuck," he hisses, shaking. Yoongi watches him underneath him, watches
how his body still moves fluidly like a cat, even though he's shaking. "I don't
like it," he groans, and Yoongi smiles because it's definitely not a groan of
pain.
"You sure?" he asks casually as he lifts one of his hands, reaching underneath
Jungkook to palm firmly at the front of his boxers. Jungkook drops his head,
moaning as Yoongi squeezes his hard cock, heavy against the damp fabric. He can
feel him twitching against his fingers. "That's not usually what happens when
you don't like something," Yoongi ponders, voice dropped to a low purr.
Jungkook arches, hissing as the skin on his ass stretches with the movement.
"Yoongiii..." he moans, sniffling.
"What is it, Jungkookie?" Yoongi's practically cooing. "Tell me what you want."
Jungkook bites his lip, clearly conflicted. Yoongi can't say he doesn't
understand the feeling. He shakes his head.
"No...? Hm, that's not an answer, yeah?"
Jungkook can only whimper as he sees Yoongi pick up the belt again.
"No! No," he cries raggedly, writhing. "Hyung, I can't, I can't."
"Don't worry," Yoongi whispers against his ear. "I'm not going to hit you."
The room's silent except for Jungkook's harsh breathing. Yoongi brings his hand
up slowly, trailing the leather on the linen sheets, before letting it glide
over Jungkook's neck, draping gently. Jungkook's frozen in fear and confusion,
and Yoongi watches him, lidded eyes feigning disinterest. He hovers, moving
slowly, so slowly he can see it takes a second for the younger to realize
what's happening until he loops the end of the belt through the buckle and
starts to pull.
Jungkook gasps, panics, and the chain of the handcuffs rattles against the pipe
as he tries to shake his head, pull away, anything to get out of the tightening
loop around his neck.
"Yoongi, Yoongi, please."
Yoongi straightens up, sitting back as he pulls the belt tighter. It presses
against Jungkook's neck gently and he pauses. Jungkook looks like a trapped
animal, eyes wild with anticipation. He keeps pulling.
The belt tightens around Jungkook's throat and he's trying not to panic but
Yoongi can hear his shallow breathing. He doesn't pull too hard, just enough to
make Jungkook's ears turn red, spreading out to his temples and cheeks. He sits
down firmly on Jungkook's butt, grinding his hips down.
Jungkook chokes out a moan, equal parts pleasure and pain as Yoongi grinds his
hips into the mattress. He can see red underneath the handcuffs.
"Ple-please," he breathes. Yoongi relaxes his grip and the belt loosens enough
for Jungkook to relax, the blood visibly spreading back down his body.
Jungkook's head lolls, body rocking gently as he tries to get friction against
the mattress and pull away from the pressure on his ass.
"You have to tell me what you want, baby boy." The nickname doesn't seem to
phase him as he pants. "Please what?" Jungkook turns his head to the side,
enough that Yoongi can see the red in his lips, high in his cheeks, and rimming
the whites of his eyes. It makes Yoongi pause, watching the blissed out glaze
in his dark eyes, tears clinging to his lashes, streaking down his face. His
lips leave a shine of spit against the side of his arm as he brushes against
it.
"More." He breathes gently, eyelashes fluttering. He doesn't even glance back,
staring out into the dim room with lidded eyes. Yoongi can't help but groan at
the request, rocking his hips down harder against Jungkook. The younger moans
brokenly, eyes shutting for a moment.
Yoongi pulls the belt again, slow but firm, and Jungkook arches into it, breath
hitching as his eyes roll back. He continues rocking against his hips and it
feels more like he's riding a horse than choking out a horny maknae.
He repeats the process of pull, release, pull, release until he's leaking in
his jeans and Jungkook's breathless, eyes unfocused and mouth parted, as if
he's somewhere between conscious and unconscious. He loosens the belt, dropping
it on the floor where he leans to pick up a small key.
Yoongi unlocks one of the handcuffs, letting Jungkook's arms drop and flipping
him over, mildly surprised at how pliant he is. He cuffs the other wrist again,
letting them rest unhooked against the mattress. Jungkook whimpers as the metal
tightens around his scraped wrist. Yoongi takes no notice as he's watching the
swell in Jungkook's boxers, hands trailing down the younger's body to meet his
gaze.
"Hngh," Jungkook breathes, eyes clearing slightly as he focuses on Yoongi's
face. "Yoongi, please."
"What did I say?" Yoongi says absently, pulling down his boxers. Jungkook moans
as his cock bounces against his stomach, trailing pre-cum across his skin.
Yoongi pulls the boxers all the way off before settling between his legs. "Use
your words."
"Wanna come," he moans, biting his lip.
"Yeah?" Yoongi's gaze snaps up to Jungkook's face. He rubs a hand back up his
stomach, tweaking a nipple and lightly wrapping around his slowly purpling
throat. He massages the skin gently before moving up his jaw. "You think you
deserve that?" he asked softly, not giving Jungkook a chance to answer as he
pushes two of his fingers deep in Jungkook's mouth, gagging him. Jungkook
chokes, saliva flooding his mouth. "Suck."
Yoongi feels his cock twitch as he watches Jungkook's lips close around his
fingers, sucking gently with low moans in his throat. His mouth is hot and so
wet and Yoongi has to stop before he comes just from that sensation alone. He
pulls his fingers out, spit dripping down Jungkook's chin.
"Up." Jungkook listens, lifting his knees and mewling as his abused skin pulls
taut. Yoongi inhales sharply, seeing the sharp red welts come into view and
feeling blood throb in his cock. He just wants to forget all this and fuck the
brat senseless until he sees white. But this isn't about him.
He presses his dripping fingers against Jungkook's entrance, no hesitation as
he sinks them in, listening to Jungkook's strained moans. He takes a minute to
stretch his fingers, get the pull smooth, before he braces himself, his other
hand resting on the chain between Jungkook's hands, trapping him again. He
doesn't wait to see if Jungkook's ready, honestly doesn't care, before he
starts pistoning his fingers in and out at a brutal pace.
Jungkook's jaw drops, writhing as he tries to pull away and push back. "Ah!
Yoon-ah, fuck!" He screws his eyes shut, every exhale a strained groan. Yoongi
watches his face intently, waiting for the break as he searches for that sweet
spot. He knows he's got it when Jungkook's brows furrow and he cries out, head
arching back. "No no no, Yoongi, ah! Shhh-ah!" His cock jerks, precum dribbling
from the tip and Yoongi feels his mouth water.
"Ah! Too-too much," he whimpers, tears leaking out of his shut eyes as Yoongi
relentlessly keeps the pace. He tries to pull at his handcuffs, whether to try
and get away or to touch himself, Yoongi's not sure but the boy's too weakened
to even budge under his grip. He cries out, toes curling and muscles impossibly
tense. "Yoongi, please!" His voice cracks and he shudders as Yoongi only goes
deeper.
"Look at me." Yoongi's voice is so dangerously commanding. Jungkook opens his
eyes, lashes fluttering under the brutal pace. "You wanna come?" Jungkook
whimpers, nodding. "Then you're gonna have to figure out how to do it just like
this. Come with just my fingers. Let me milk you dry." Jungkook's eyes widen,
an involuntary moan cracking in his throat.
"I can't, I can't," he pants. "Touch me, Yoongi, please." Yoongi just stares,
eyes dark and wicked as they listen to the wet sounds of his fingers fucking
Jungkook open.
Suddenly he leans back slightly, taking the weight off his other hand, pulling
it back. He rests it around Jungkook's bruising throat.
"Come for me, you fucking brat," he breathes, tightening his grip around
Jungkook's throat. Simultaneously he buries his fingers deep inside Jungkook,
curling his fingers against his prostate, massaging it hard.
Jungkook's whole body contracts, arching back, choked sobs wrecking his throat.
He cries out incoherently and Yoongi doesn't let up, massages him deep and
grips his throat tight, watching his eyes roll back into his head. His hips
twitch up into nothing, every strangled breath ending in a ragged whimper. His
cock jerks hard once, twice, and then he's coming, white droplets splashing his
stomach as Yoongi releases his throat and makes good on his promise to milk him
dry. He doesn't pull back against the iron-clad grip on his fingers, instead
continues to press at the bundle of nerves until Jungkook's keening, curling up
and bucking as cum continues to leak sporadically from his cock.
"Ah, st-stop, i-ah! Yoon-gi!" It's more painful now, Yoongi can tell. The
oversensitivity must be unbearable.
He reaches down, gathering some of the cum on Jungkook's stomach and begins
stroking his cock at a quick pace. Jungkook sobs, tensing for only a few
seconds before coming hard with a shattered cry, thick ropes painting his
stomach. Yoongi squeezes out every drop, fingers still buried in his ass.
Jungkook cries out as Yoongi still doesn't relent.
"Hurts, ah, please. Ah-" His whimpers go unheard. Yoongi feels drunk with
dominance, watching Jungkook tremble weakly.
He keeps going at it until Jungkook tenses once more, body taut and unbreathing
as he rolls through a dry orgasm, mouth slack and cries silent before he passes
out.
He pulls his fingers out slowly, lowering Jungkook's legs and rolling him
slightly so he can get a good look at the damage from his belt. The welts are
bright and angry, heated to the touch. There's spots of blood against the
sheets and up against the pillow where his scraped up wrists rubbed against it.
Jungkook's neck is already a deep purple, spreading up in fingertip-sized spots
to his jawline. His hair is matted to his forehead, lips bitten and raw,
stomach shining with cum.
The handcuffs click quietly as they unlock and Yoongi slowly lowers his arms,
absentmindedly massaging them. Jungkook lets out a little pained whimper,
eyelids twitching. Yoongi pulls his boxers back on him, struggling only
slightly, cleaning his stomach off with the sheets.
Once the kid is mostly presentable, Yoongi sits on the mattress, chewing his
lip, arousal mostly forgotten. Jungkook's fingers twitch like he's reaching out
and Yoongi pulls his hand back.
He doesn't want to think about this. He's not going to think about this. He
goes as far as acknowledging that he feels they're even (and maybe a small bit
of guilt that he may have gone too far) before he gathers his things, leaving
the room without a backwards glance.
***** What the fuck? *****
Chapter Summary
     It's the morning after, and fuck, Yoongi doesn't know what he
     expected.
Chapter Notes
     The name of this chapter is probably how y'all feel about me. What
     the fuck, jenistark?? It's been a fucking year and three months.
     Dudes, I have zero excuse. But here, have this chapter that's as long
     as both of the previous chapters combined and even more fucked up.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Everyone knows something's up. Yoongi might've been able to get away with cool
nonchalance about his dark bruises but no one is about to brush over Jungkook's
damage. That morning Jungkook was the last one out of bed and Yoongi tried to
ignore him, he did, hoping that maybe if he didn't notice him no one else
would. But Jin's double-take and gasp was all it took to make Jungkook the
center of attention and Yoongi glanced at the deer in headlights, guilt pooling
in his stomach.
Jungkook is wrecked, that's the only word Yoongi has for it. His neck is
striped in purplish reds and blues, fading up into a mottled pattern up his
jawline, sharp blossoms over the softer parts of his throat, fingertip-sized.
His eyes are red-rimmed and his eyelids are puffy and dark. Self-conscious and
exhausted, he rubs at them and his wrists are scraped up and dark red with new
scabs.
"Jungkook-ah, what the fuck?!" Namjoon's the first one to react, all but
running up to the boy, reaching out as if to grab him but hesitating, clearly
afraid of hurting him. Jungkook frowns, biting his lip.
"Does it look that bad?" His voice is gravel in his throat. Yoongi flinches
almost imperceptibly.
"What-what-what are we even looking at?" Hoseok stammers, eyes wide and a hand
holding toast frozen halfway to his mouth.
Yoongi closes his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. All he can think about is
he knows that's not the worst of it. It's what underneath the clothes that he's
most worried about. He hears Jungkook's sigh and unintelligible mumbling.
"Talk louder, Jungkook." Namjoon's voice is serious. There's a weird heavy
tension in the room and Yoongi can't tell if anyone is looking at him but he
feels like they are. He's not even pretending to feign concern. Someone's going
to realize that soon enough.
"It's nothing," Jungkook says quietly. He doesn't sound timid or afraid. He
sounds oddly...dangerous. Yoongi can't ignore the chill that joins the swirl of
guilt.
"Yah, obviously it's something!" Jin says, sounding not a peg below panicked.
"Do we need to take you to the hospital?" Yoongi purses his lips at the sound
of 'hospital'.
"No," Jungkook says almost condescendingly. "It'll be fine," he adds as he
brushes past Namjoon, walking to the bathroom. "Just scratches and bruises.
Nothing to go to the hospital over."
"Yah, Jungkook." Namjoon's voice is severe enough that Yoongi looks up. He
walks up to Jungkook standing in the doorway to the bathroom. He speaks lowly
but the room is so quiet that no one misses it.
"Who did this to you?"
Yoongi tenses his jaw, guilt heavy in his core. But Jungkook's face doesn't
soften, doesn't show anything but defiance.
"None of your fucking business, hyung."
He slams the door shut and the sound resonates through the dorm. The shower
turns on and the rush of water breaks the silence.
"What the fuck?" Namjoon whispers, stepping back from the door and looking at
the others.
"He didn't look like that before he went to bed last night," Jin says, serious
and closer to anger than he's been in a while.
"What does that mean?" Jimin mutters worriedly from his seat at the table.
"It means it was one of us, doesn't it?" Taehyung says lowly, leaning against
the stove. Yoongi glances back at him and freezes when he sees Taehyung's eyes
locked on him.
"Us?!" Jimin's voice is high with disbelief. "We wouldn't-who would've done-?"
"He's right." Jin isn't looking at anyone, livid stare fixed on a floor tile.
Taehyung stares at Yoongi for a moment longer before blinking, gaze drifting
elsewhere. Yoongi exhales softly. "Something's going on," Jin continues. "And
clearly Jungkook, and whichever one of us it is, doesn't want to bring it up."
Yoongi tentatively glances at Jin and watches his gaze flick over ever so
subtly to Yoongi's feet. He feels his stomach drop. He wants to run. Jin and
Taehyung must've put it together, his bruises and Jungkook's. They all might
have put it together.
The silence over the rush of the shower is heavy. Yoongi acknowledges in the
back of his mind that the sound is consistent. No splashing of water, no
movement against porcelain. Jungkook's probably just standing in front of the
mirror, inspecting his damage. Yoongi's afraid to breathe too hard.
"If Jungkook wants to bring it up, he'll bring it up," Namjoon says, breaking
the silence. Yoongi doesn't dare to look at him. "I don't know what kind of
shit is going on here but whoever's involved better figure it out."
"This doesn't make any sense!" Jimin frets. "Did you see him? Someone
legitimately hurt him! Why would any of us do that? Those bruises are-" He
stops short as if he's realized something. Yoongi can't remember how to breathe
anymore. His eyes are fixated on a cabinet handle. He can feel Jimin's stare.
"Yoongi-hy-"
"We've got a long schedule today, guys," Jin tersely interrupts. He walks
quickly through the small kitchen to his and Yoongi's room. "Everyone get
ready. Manager-nim said we have to be out at the van at 8." The door slams.
Yoongi glances at his phone. 7:45. He's already dressed; he doesn't waste time
as he places his glass in the sink and bolts out of the kitchen, heading
straight for the door. He feels everyone's eyes on his back, can practically
feel Jimin's aura of hurt. He feels sick to his stomach and even when he slams
the door it doesn't get any better.
 
The day passes slower than a goddamn snail. The schedule goes as planned: vocal
training, lunch, dance practice, a break to go over Namjoon's and Yoongi's in-
progress tracks. More dance practice. But the atmosphere could not be more
tense.
As soon as they meet their manager for vocal training, Jungkook is immediately
pulled aside to explain himself. He's covered up the worst of it with
foundation and a turtleneck but he's barely presentable. Yoongi doesn't hear
what he says but no glances are thrown his way and whatever he says puts their
manager mostly at ease. Jungkook doesn't look at any of the guys as he crawls
into his seat in the back. Yoongi takes his usual spot in the middle seat in
the middle of the van and immediately regrets it.
The aura of suspicion and confusion and hate is thick in the air as everyone
settles in and the van starts up. Yoongi feels naked and exposed in the middle
of it. He wants to blurt out that this isn't fair, it's not his fault, Jungkook
started it first. And yeah it's petulant but it's true. He was raped by
Jungkook if he really wants to define it.
The thought crosses his mind with a physical flinch and he sees Namjoon side-
eye him. No, that's not...that's not fair. Especially because he knows, he
knows he's literally no better. He did the same thing and worse. He left
Jungkook bloody and unconscious, for fuck's sake. He deserves to be treated
like this. He deserves worse.
He pops in his earbuds and blasts music. It eases the dread a little bit.
Vocal practice goes its routine way. Though Jungkook has to stop before
everyone else because of the roughness of his throat. Yoongi doesn't miss Jin's
glare.
They order in for lunch and Yoongi takes it in his studio. It's a welcome
relief to have watchful eyes off of him, to not have to look at the still
darkening bruises on Jungkook's throat, though he's betting he'll probably be a
point of gossip now. He stares at his food and realizes he's really not hungry
at all. He sighs, sitting back in his chair.
There's a bigger question here, he thinks. Yeah, Jungkook did some fucked up
shit. And Yoongi did some really fucked up shit. But...and it's something
Yoongi's been avoiding for a little bit and something he definitely doesn't
want to dwell on right now, but it occurs to him anyway. He rubs a hand over
his face.
Why did neither of them really fight back?
Jungkook pinned him down. Jungkook forced himself on him. But Yoongi didn't
yell in any serious way. He didn't fight particularly hard. He...he enjoyed-
He coughs abruptly, shaking his head. No. He was coerced. He was manipulated.
He didn't want Jungkook that way, why would he? Jungkook's just an asshole.
Just a young brat trying to take what he wants. And what he wants is...
...Yoongi?
Why would he want that?
No. That's not what he wants; he doesn't want him. He wants power. And Yoongi
just wants to take power back.
He's not...this isn't...
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Stupid, stupid..." he mutters to himself.
Dance practice is tense, and awkward. Every mistake is met with a harsher
criticism than necessary. During one particular mistake, Jimin yells at
Namjoon's misstep but it's Yoongi who flinches. He meets Jimin's eyes and
they're wide with something like betrayal or maybe even fear. No one criticizes
Jungkook or Yoongi.
Yoongi opts out of showing his in-progress tracks and only Taehyung shows
disappointment about it. Jin ignores him completely to listen to Namjoon's work
and it's frustrating enough to have him leaving the room in favor of getting a
breather. No one bothers to check on him.
He sits outside, scrolling through Twitter on his phone. Nothing is actually
grabbing his attention; he just feels the need to do something. His fingers
twitch with agitation; he wishes briefly that he still smoked like he did pre-
debut.
But then he's thinking again. Thinking about this bigger question. He pinned
Jungkook down. He forced himself onto the kid. He handcuffed him; he beat him
and strangled him. But Jungkook didn't really fight back. He didn't yell for
help. No. He cried and he begged and he moaned for more, for Yoongi to let him
come.
The memory makes Yoongi cheeks burn suddenly. They both...wanted it. They
wanted it with aggression and violence. Did Jungkook even want him, though, is
another question. Or does he just want violence? He's not here to be Jungkook's
fucktoy. What does Yoongi even want from this? Why is he even doing this?
This doesn't feel like revenge anymore. He doesn't know what this is. But it's
fucked up.
The second round of dance practice is just as bad as the first. They're sweaty,
exhausted, and much quieter than they've ever been. Their choreographer
obviously senses the tension and lets them off easy but it doesn't actually
make anything easier from Yoongi's perspective.
Later, Taehyung suggests getting dinner at a local spot. He's trying to be
positive, trying to be a bright light, Yoongi can tell. Hoseok jumps in with
enthusiasm, remarking on Tae's brilliant idea. Almost everyone gets on board
with the plan.
"I think I'll just head back to the dorm," Yoongi mutters quietly. It's like a
mute button on the rest of the boys, who fall completely silent. Yoongi looks
at them just long enough to see Taehyung's childlike disappointment and
Jungkook's resolute stare elsewhere. "Yeah. I'm gonna do that. I'll see you
guys later." He doesn't wait for a response before he walks out of the practice
room.
He decides to walk back to the dorm, hat pulled low on his face to avoid any
recognition. The cool air clears his head a little bit and he's relieved to
have some time to himself not locked in a room.
The walk almost has Yoongi clear-headed enough to start thinking maybe this
isn't as bad as it seems. He and Jungkook clearly have some shit to sort out.
But...maybe they can sort it out. The other members just don't get it yet. They
don't understand exactly what happened. And that's okay. They'll figure it out.
It'll be fine.
He walks into the dorm building, making his way up the stairs, opting out of
the elevator. He can't allow himself any peace to think too hard on things
right now. He's just gonna take a shower, drink some water, and go the fuck to
sleep. Tomorrow can handle this shit.
He reaches their floor, fumbling in his pocket for the key as he reaches the
door. The small hall is pretty dark, as it usually is. Took a while for that to
stop being creepy. Now it's almost comforting. The door opens and their dimly
lit dorm feels more like home than it usually does. All alone. No fucking
problems to worry about for at least the next hour.
Needless to say, the shove is unexpected.
Yoongi hits the hardwood floor hard, the right side of his jaw immediately
going numb from shock. He doesn't even have the chance to figure out how he got
there before he feels a wrenching grip on his shoulder, flipping him over onto
his back. A brief flash of Jungkook's face is all he gets before he gets a
merciless backhand to the face. The pain is searing and Yoongi can only cry out
as a hand buries itself in his hair, yanking his head back.
As his vision clears, he finally gets a chance to look Jungkook in the face and
the boy is wild. Mottled in bruises and thick hair disheveled, a quiet fury in
his wide eyes. His chest is heaving, his muscles tense; the adrenaline is
palpable. Yoongi finds himself feeling the way Jungkook looks, swallowing
roughly around a mouthful of blood. Fuck.
Yoongi lashes out abruptly, bringing a knee up to Jungkook's stomach, using
Jungkook's grip on his hair to brace himself. Jungkook cries out and loosens
his hand and Yoongi smacks it out of the way, twisting upward and elbowing
Jungkook right in his sharp jawline. Jungkook buckles, collapsing to Yoongi's
side and Yoongi shoves him, manhandles him until he's on his back, sitting on
his hips.
He grabs Jungkook's scraped wrists to pin him down but Jungkook's recovered
fast, twisting his arms out of his grip and shoving Yoongi back, causing the
older to stumble to the floor. He follows the motion, sitting up and kneeling
forward to hover over Yoongi. Yoongi swings at his face but misses just barely,
clipping his chin as Jungkook grabs his shirt collar, yanking him up and
shoving him back hard against the wall.
Yoongi gasps harshly, the wind temporarily knocked out of him. Jungkook takes
advantage and pins him against the wall, gripping his wrists tightly with one
hand, nails digging in. They're right next to the open front door and Jungkook
slams it shut, making Yoongi jump. He pulls his other hand back and he doesn't
hesitate now that they're truly alone, undoing Yoongi's belt and yanking at the
button and zipper of his jeans. Yoongi practically growls as he gets his breath
back, swinging his heel to the back of Jungkook's knee and making his leg
buckle. Jungkook drops down low enough for Yoongi to look down at him and the
older almost smirks before spitting blood in his face. Jungkook reels and
Yoongi shoves him hard enough to fall back to the floor.
He moves quickly, sitting back down on Jungkook's hips. Jungkook tries to pull
the same move again but Yoongi reaches out, gripping his purpled throat tightly
instead. Jungkook chokes, surprised, body bucking up. His hands scramble to his
throat, to Yoongi's hand, trying to loosen his grip.
A sharp crack! has Jungkook flinching.
Yoongi holds his belt in his other hand, cracking it against the hardwood floor
again. Jungkook flinches again, a breathless whimper in his throat.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Yoongi hisses, feeling blood coat
his teeth. "What the fuck, Jungkook-ah?" He can feel Jungkook's pulse, fast and
erratic under his fingertips. It distracts him enough that Jungkook is able to
quickly pry his fingers away, knocking his hand away from his throat. Yoongi
tenses, ready to lash back against Jungkook's next move but instead he finds
himself wrenched forward, an arm wrapped around his neck as Jungkook's mouth
collides with his.
It's fucking savage, barely a kiss as much as a clash of teeth and blood.
Jungkook opens his mouth immediately, forcing his tongue into Yoongi's mouth as
he wraps his other arm around his shoulders. Yoongi feels like he's falling,
heat and anger and adrenaline and want spinning together into something that
has him gripping Jungkook's biceps, kissing back with reckless abandon, biting
Jungkook's lips and tasting blood, unsure of whose it is.
Jungkook tries to roll them over but Yoongi tenses, nipping especially hard at
his lip. Jungkook lets out a groan that's a mix of pleasure and pain and this
time Yoongi's sure that's Jungkook's blood on his tongue. He feels Jungkook
grip at his hair again and shudders, moaning lowly into the kiss. It's becoming
less teeth and more tongue and Yoongi's breathless, blood rushing southward and
making him lightheaded.
He can tell Jungkook notices the shift, must feel the heat and the growing
hardness because he smirks into the kiss, body rolling and hips canting up into
Yoongi. It's like an electric shock; it feels so fucking good.
He barely notices the switch this time as Jungkook takes control, flipping them
over. He breaks the kiss, moving down to mouth at Yoongi's bruised jawline, at
his throat. Yoongi moans raggedly, pulling at Jungkook's turtleneck. The
younger takes the hint, sitting up slightly to pull his shirt over his head.
Yoongi takes his momentary blindness as an opportunity to reach out, grabbing
the abandoned belt. When Jungkook's shirt is off, Yoongi grabs him by the back
of the head, pulling him forward in a kiss as he grips the leather tight,
striking swiftly against Jungkook's ass. Jungkook yelps, bucking forward into
Yoongi's hips and making him moan.
"Fucking hell," Jungkook hisses, reaching back and roughly grabbing the belt
from Yoongi. Yoongi flinches, expecting a hit, but Jungkook abruptly sits back,
watching Yoongi's face.
Without a word, he loops the belt around his own neck, threading it through the
belt buckle and pulling it close to his throat. He leans back over Yoongi,
grabbing his hand and guiding it to the end of the belt. Yoongi stares,
disbelieving and feeling a wave of arousal like lightning down his spine as he
grips the end of the belt and Jungkook's eyes flutter closed.
He pulls. Jungkook whines in the back of his throat, hips rolling against
Yoongi. He pulls harder, watching the veins pop up on Jungkook's bruised
throat, the flush of red spreading up to his ears. It must hurt, must ache from
last night. Jungkook's moan is strained and breathless, his brow furrowed like
he wants to fight it. But his lips are parted, slick and split and smeared with
blood and spit, and he looks so fucking ruined. Yoongi can't help but moan
remembering that he's done all of it. All of that damage is his.
"Fuck. You want this so bad, don't you?" Yoongi breathes, his voice a ragged
purr in his chest. Jungkook whimpers, curling into Yoongi's chest, gripping his
shirt tightly. Jungkook continues the body rolls, almost more as a reaction to
the lack of oxygen and blood than a move of seduction. His whimpers slowly rise
in pitch and desperation, nails clawing at Yoongi's shirt as he strains to
breathe.
Yoongi relaxes his arm, the belt loosening, and he can see the blood spreading
back down Jungkook's face as the kid takes gasping breaths that end on small
moans. He bucks his hips up and Jungkook's breath hitches, back arching. He
moves up Yoongi's chest, burying his face in the crook of his neck, a hand
snaking up to Yoongi's parted lips.
Yoongi pulls the belt tight again, hearing Jungkook's muffled gasp as he hooks
two of his fingers in Yoongi's mouth almost as an anchor. Yoongi bites them
sharply just to hear the strangled hiss, suckling on them right after almost as
an apology. He knows what Jungkook wants him to do as he laves the digits with
his blood-laced saliva.
Jungkook's thin breath is hot against his throat and his own body feels
overheated, trembling with arousal and a strange sort of....fear. Not of
Jungkook but of this entire situation, what it's doing to him, what he feels
like doing to Jungkook.
As if sensing his hesitation, Jungkook shoves his fingers further down Yoongi's
throat, making him gag. The sensation sends a another tingle down his spine, a
throb in his cock. Saliva floods his mouth involuntarily, makes the suction of
his lips sound obscene. Jungkook groans, hips rolling. Yoongi can feel his long
eyelashes fluttering against his jawline and he realizes he must be staring at
his fingers being sucked and somehow that gets Yoongi even more worked up.
He remembers in the hazy back of his mind to loosen his grip on the belt and
Jungkook moans headily, whimpers as he breathes fully, shivering as Yoongi
sucks wetly with his red, swelling lips.
Jungkook shakily pushes himself up, his makeshift leash still loosely in
Yoongi's grip. He slowly pulls his fingers from Yoongi's plush lips, unable to
resist biting his own lip as he watches how slick they slide out, saliva and
blood mingling and dripping. He can't help the way his hips buck forward, right
into Yoongi's hips where he's settled himself between his hyung's pretty legs.
He trails his fingertips down Yoongi's chin, savoring the dark look in Yoongi's
eyes, the blood lingering at the corner of his lips, threatening to spill, the
rapidly forming bruise on his jawline. Yoongi can practically hear his own
heartbeat in his ears under the sharp, analyzing stare. He can't look into
Jungkook's eyes anymore, gaze traveling over the various hickeys and bruises on
Jungkook's throat and chest from the night before. All of a sudden, he starts
to remember how this all started, starts to remember his existential crisis.
"Jungkook," Yoongi murmurs in his gravel of a voice. And abruptly the younger
snaps out of his thoughts, as if he understands the need to switch gears. He
pulls back and, with his clean hand, reaches underneath to tug on the back of
Yoongi's loosened jeans, wrenching them up along with his boxers, just past the
curve of his ass.
Yoongi makes an indignant noise, feeling oddly exposed being completely clothed
except for his ass. But the noise makes way for a stuttering inhale as he feels
Jungkook's warm and wet fingertips circling his hole, the younger gripping his
jeans to force his legs back towards his chest, exposing him further.
He groans when Jungkook starts to sink a finger in, excruciatingly slow,
spitting more on his hole to ease the slide. The heat hovers high on his cheeks
as he feels Jungkook sink his finger all the way in.
"Ffffuck," Yoongi groans through gritted teeth. Jungkook breaks his
concentrated stare on his ass to watch his face, smirk hitting his eyes before
his lips quirk up.
"Yeah? Tell me how much you love it, hyung."
Yoongi's glazed eyes narrow.
"Fuck off."
Jungkook laughs mirthlessly and a few things happen at the same time. Jungkook
pulls his finger out, only to forcefully shove it back in with another. Yoongi
simultaneously yanks on the belt harder than ever, partially on accident as his
back arches and he cries out under Jungkook's merciless fingers. Jungkook gasps
breathlessly, bending forward as Yoongi's knees press hard into his sides as he
tries to curl away.
Jungkook chokes out a desperate whimper that Yoongi mirrors as the younger
curls his fingers harshly in retaliation. It's like some strange sort of
Mexican standoff, an endless cycle of pain and pleasure that breaks only when
Jungkook buries his fingers in deeper and Yoongi shudders a gasp like he's been
punched, grip loosening on the belt in favor of grasping at Jungkook's
shoulders, desperate for a proper anchor.
Yoongi feels Jungkook's moans against his throat, vibrating against his skin,
and it only heightens his own pleasure. He doesn't know what's happening
anymore, doesn't understand what he feels, all he knows is he wants right now.
He wants so fucking bad.
And again, it's like Jungkook knows. He leans back, removing his fingers and
meeting Yoongi's gaze for a moment at his resultant whine. His eyes are dark,
so dark. Yoongi gives up trying to analyze it and just feels how much lust
there is.
Jungkook wrenches Yoongi's shoes off, pants and boxers following suit, and
Yoongi starts pulling his shirt off with as little grace as possible, feeling
hands push his thighs back towards his chest.
He barely gets his shirt off completely before a new sensation leaves him
moaning like a bitch in heat. He glances down and his jaw practically drops at
the sight of Jungkook's tongue laving against his hole, eyelashes downcast as
he mouths and sucks with his bloody lips, humming in response to Yoongi's
gasping moans.
"Oh my f-ah, Kook," Yoongi breathes, voice shaky. "Ngh, that's-ah, fucking-
fuck!" He cries out as Jungkook works a finger back into his hole, mouth still
hard at work, sucking obscenely. Yoongi involuntarily kicks out and Jungkook
digs his nails into his thigh, breaking away momentarily to nip at the soft
skin before returning to the task at hand.
"Nn, ah, shit, Jungkook-" Yoongi's voice practically cracks as Jungkook gets
two, then three fingers deep, mouth moving up to suck at his balls, to lick up
his straining cock. Yoongi makes the mistake of looking down again as Jungkook
kisses the tip of his cock with his parted lips and, fuck.
Jungkook moves up Yoongi's body in that fluid way that he does, removing his
fingers in favor of slotting his leaking cock against his ass, his jeans having
been pulled down to his thighs at some point Yoongi couldn't pinpoint for his
life. Jungkook's hands slide up against his own, and he remembers this feeling,
remembers the way Jungkook pressed their foreheads together like he is now, how
dark his eyes were, how dark they are, how all of this rapid-fire nonsense
started. He feels like he's starting to drown.
"Hyung." Fuck, Jungkook's voice is so rough, rough enough to rival his own.
Yoongi groans deep in his chest as Jungkook's hips gyrate slowly, cock
teasingly sliding against his hole, against the underside of his cock. Yoongi
just gasps with each brush of the tip against his hole, twitching as if to pull
him in.
One of Jungkook's hands moves to his hair and grips firmly, stilling Yoongi's
movements as he brushes his nose against his, grazes his parted lips against
his own, breathes in his gasps and pants and returns them. Yoongi feels
entranced, drugged and lost to this madness, this limbo of extreme intensity
and yet not quite enough. He almost wants to cry. He whimpers like he's about
to.
"Ah, Jung-nnngh," he keens against Jungkook's lips. Jungkook shudders like he's
there too. "P-Please!" Yoongi cries out, voice breaking. Jungkook moans,
closing the gap of their mouths as he lines himself up, sinking into Yoongi's
heat.
Yoongi feels like he might come right then and there. He doesn't breathe. He
doesn't even know if he's kissing back, his whole body feels on fire, legs
tight around Jungkook's waist, arms struggling weakly in Jungkook's grasp for
some purpose Yoongi isn't privy to. He vaguely registers gasping into the kiss,
crying out as Jungkook bottoms out, hips flush with his own.
Jungkook groans a soft, desperate little noise in the back of his throat, arms
trembling even as he holds Yoongi fast. He leans back, eyes lidded and lips
parted. Yoongi can barely focus; he doesn't think he's ever felt this good in
this life. He kind of feels like he's going to die, really. And that doesn't
sound like a bad idea right now.
But then Jungkook slowly gyrates his hips and Yoongi really does cry: hot,
thick tears rolling down his cheeks and down the back of his throat as he gasps
for breath, back arching almost painfully. He tries to say words, tries just to
curse, but all he can manage is unintelligible, desperate keens. They seem to
affect Jungkook all the same, if not more so, as his grip on Yoongi's wrists
tighten and his breath shudders.
"Ngh, hy-hyung," he whispers breathlessly, hips angling even harder against
Yoongi's hips as he leans forward minutely. Yoongi cries out, completely
overwhelmed. Jungkook searches his eyes for a moment and Yoongi has no idea
what he's looking for, can barely hold contact through his onslaught of tears.
"Fuck," Jungkook says softly, letting go off Yoongi's wrists in favor of
wrapping his arms around his back. He does that thing again, where he presses
his forehead against Yoongi's, and Yoongi feels like he's falling apart.
"Shh," comes his soft voice against Yoongi's lips. "Shh, it's okay, Yoongi-ah."
He brushes his nose against Yoongi's and fuck, what is happening? Yoongi feels
like he can't catch his breath. "I've got you. It's okay. It's okay." And it's
nonsense, utter nonsense, because it helps. Yoongi whimpers, arms wrapping
around Jungkook's neck, pulling him down in a kiss.
Jungkook chooses that moment to move, to pull his hips back and thrust in with
a force that makes Yoongi cry out, knocking his head back against the floor and
pulling Jungkook into the crook of his neck. Jungkook groans just as loudly,
repeating the motion, building up a rhythm. And just like that, Yoongi's lost
again, a slave to this fucking tsunami of sensation and pleasure and pain and
chaos.
Sweat is pouring off their bodies; the room feels like an honest-to-god
furnace. Yoongi feels like he's past overheating, like he's going to pass out.
Jungkook is everywhere, enveloping him with his strong arms, grounding him with
his broad body, thick thighs caging him under his hips. He feels deliciously
trapped, feels fucking delirious. Jungkook hits his prostate dead-on every
single fucking time and it makes him mindless, body working of its own volition
to bring him to where he wants to be, where he needs to be before he
spontaneously combusts.
He doesn't know if he actually says words anymore, he can't tell if Jungkook
can either, if there's anything between their desperate moans and whimpers and
gasps. He's close but he can't even find it in him to articulate it, the only
hint being him digging his nails into Jungkook's shoulders.
Whether he gets it or not, Yoongi can't begin to tell, but Jungkook thrusts
harder, more erratically like he's losing himself too, the sound obscene in the
room as his hips slap against Yoongi's ass almost painfully, forgotten belt
still jingling around his throat. Yoongi shudders breathlessly, eyes rolling
back in his head as it pushes him just that little bit more and he comes the
hardest he ever has in his fucking life, silent and breathless through his
parted lips, his one coherent thought being a genuine concern that he may just
black out.
He finds his voice as he keens through his orgasm, body spasming, ass clenching
so tight around Jungkook that he hisses, body trembling above him as he manages
to get just a few more stilted thrusts in before he's coming as well, groaning
loudly into Yoongi's neck, holding him painfully tight. Yoongi moans in
response, the movement feeling practically like a second orgasm and his mind
still deep in an overwhelming fog. Jungkook thrusts hard a few more times,
shaking and moaning, pushing himself beyond his own boundaries the way Yoongi
is figuring out he likes best. Jungkook whimpers high in his throat the same
way he did last night, overstimulation skirting the edge of pain.
It feels like it takes an absolute eternity for them to come down. Yoongi
entertains the possibility that he may have actually died. He's shivering like
it's zero degrees in the room and Jungkook's breathing like he's trying to
control himself. From what, Yoongi doesn't even begin to contemplate it.
Jungkook hasn't moved, body still wrapped tightly around Yoongi and Yoongi
doesn't want him to. It's grounding, the feeling of his warm body, of his
steady, deep breath. It's the one thing that feels safe right now. He's
minutely less overwhelmed with each passing second. The fog slowly dissipates
and he takes in their surroundings. Right. They're in their dorm. They're in
the living room. That's their clothes strewn around. Jesus Christ, where has
his mind been?
"Ffffffuck," Yoongi drawls in a long exhale. Jungkook only buries his face
further against Yoongi's neck, sighing heavily. Yoongi closes his eyes, letting
his fingers bury in Jungkook's sweaty hair.
His body slowly comes back to him and, as the pleasure fades away, all the pain
starts to make itself known, his lips stinging with cuts, jaw throbbing dully,
blood sharp on his tongue. He can see the new bruises on his wrists as he idly
strokes Jungkook's hair.
The kid is still breathing deeply against his throat and, if it weren't for the
tension in his body, he'd think he'd fallen asleep. Yoongi's muscles are
painfully taut with tension as well. What's the next step here? What the actual
fuck are they supposed to do? It all slowly comes crashing down on Yoongi. What
even happened here?
A million thoughts are coming back to him, the same thoughts that had been
barraging him all day, in the spaces where he could be left alone to think.
There was no coercion here, no manipulation. This was want and need and
desperation and fuck, Yoongi's never felt this...this, whatever this is. This
all-consuming, mind-numbing, violent, painful desire. Where did this come from?
Who is he anymore?
"I'm so sorry."
The confession is soft but deafeningly loud in the empty room. Yoongi freezes,
hands stilling in Jungkook's hair. It hits him like a train. He's not mad at
Jungkook at all. God, it never even occurred to him. He exhales something
sharp, almost like a laugh or a scoff. He turns his head in Jungkook's
direction, burying his face in his hair. And then he does breathe a laugh.
"We've got some shit to figure out, hm?"
And christ, if that isn't an understatement. Jungkook laughs softly in
response, though it sounds more painful than amused. He leans back finally,
pulling out of Yoongi with a soft groan from both of them. When Yoongi meets
his eyes it seems like he's seeing him for the first time in a while, eyes open
and vulnerable, full of a guilt Yoongi can feel.
"Hyung, I-"
"We should get cleaned up before the others come back," Yoongi interrupts
because he has to. They can't do this right now. Jungkook blinks, looking
younger than ever as he nods softly. Yoongi sits up slowly, raising his hands
and gently pulling the belt off from around Jungkook's neck. He resolutely
avoids Jungkook's stare.
"I'm sorry too," he mutters softly, fingers lightly grazing the new bruises on
Jungkook's throat, moving up to the bruising along his jaw and cuts over his
lips. He glances up at Jungkook's eyes and startles at the expression there,
clearing his throat loudly as he looks away, starting to get up.
Jungkook helps him up wordlessly and Yoongi walks to the bathroom on shaky legs
with a resolute confidence that he absolutely does not need help. As he reaches
the threshold he turns around, raising his eyebrows at a lost-looking Jungkook.
"Well, are you coming or not?"
Jungkook stares in surprise, a brief moment of conversation passing between
their eyes before he nods softly, following Yoongi into the bathroom.
Chapter End Notes
     I'm genuinely going to attempt to update sooner. Hopefully within the
     month, and definitely NOT a year again...It's NaNoWriMo, so I have
     to, right? RIGHT.
     Thank you guys again for all these relentless amounts of kudos. The
     daily emails really drive the guilt in. I love all you dirty fucks.
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