Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4487085.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jungkook/Everyone, Jeon_Jungkook/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Jeon_Jungkook/
      Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook/Park_Jimin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Namjoon_|
      Rap_Monster, Jeon_Jungkook/Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim
      Seokjin_|_Jin
  Character:
      Jeon_Jungkook, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope,
      Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Park_Jimin_(BTS)
  Additional Tags:
      Gangbang, Competition, Tickling, Restraints, Roughhousing, Intercrural
      Sex, Blow_Jobs, Comeplay, more_like_gang-tickling, complete_and_utter
      filth
  Series:
      Part 3 of kink_bingo_2015
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-14 Words: 7166
****** game changer ******
by markerlimes_(sunmi)
Summary
     Yoongi’s partly bored, partly turned on, but deep down they all want
     to know how depraved this game will have to get until Jungkook spits
     that water back out and surrenders.
     (alternatively- They go home and finish the game.)
Notes
     so this happened...a_week_or_so_ago and here we are... also because
     of this tbh
     please do not read this fic if you are sensitive to underaged idols
     in fictional explicit situations. although chances are- if you find
     fic with this content to be disgusting today, there's no reason why
     you wouldn't find it to be just as disgusting a month from now.
     for the kink bingo square: competition
 
Yoongi has enough money on his card to be a real man without needing patience.
Or that’s what he tells himself when he chokes in 14 seconds flat, shoved onto
the floor unceremoniously by Taehyung whose fingers are far better at
stimulating his nipples than he’d like to admit.
Water leaks out of the side of his mouth as he coughs, sitting up in a daze.
From behind, Taehyung offers him an apologetic grin that is about as sorry as
Yoongi feels right now, which is to say- not very. He’s dead when they get
home, that brat.
Yoongi gets up to his feet by himself, because he’s got at least that much
dignity left, and brushes off his pants. He offers a grin to the camera,
sheepish. “Ahh, I wanted to do more.”
Taehyung snickers. “More?”
You’re dead, Yoongi smiles sweetly over to him when the camera pans to Seokjin
getting ready to face his fate. Taehyung replies with an equally sweet,
signature box-shaped grin and slips on the gloves, ready to assault Seokjin’s
armpits with freakish fervor.
“This is enough for me,” he boasts, displaying his gloved hand to the camera.
Seokjin smiles passively at the camera, but there’s a good amount of
'Kim Taehyung, you are minced meat’ hidden beneath his progressively tight
grin.
(At this rate Yoongi won’t even have to murder him alone, which is great
because that means less effort on his end, and ergo, more time to sleep later.)
 
Seokjin manages to keep his impassive mask for half a second before bloating up
like an endearing pufferfish as Taehyung’s fingers wander just about
everywhere. He spits, shooting the water straight against Taehyung’s cheek at
exactly 12 seconds, and everyone in the room loses it.
Taehyung drags himself to the wall, water splattered across his cheeks as
Namjoon yells triumphantly. “I’ve figure it out. If you don’t like it, just
spit.”
Well, yes, Yoongi thinks, but because they are the way that they are, it comes
as breaking news to the rest of them. A borderline epiphany. There's no such
thing as quiet discovery in the realm of bangtan. 
“If you don’t like it, just spit,” Hoseok echoes, mouth stretched wide in
laughter and Yoongi keeps a mental note to stay the fuck away from Hoseok when
it’s his turn.
“Go on, Jungkookie,” Hoseok crows, eyes bright. He makes a sweeping gesture
towards the chair.
Jungkook steels his gaze, sudden fire in them. Yoongi watches him, fascinated,
as he takes a seat and sips his water. His posture is nervous for sure, bowed
head and arms up in a defensive half-hug protecting his sides, but slowly
Yoongi sees him settle back- determined, like everything else he does, to see
it to the end.
 
                                      ---
                                        
Yoongi hangs back when the first whistle sounds and the rest of his group dives
in on Jungkook like a pack of wolves.
Immediately, Taehyung clings onto Jungkook’s wrist, picking his defensive
posture wide open for the rest of them. It’s a smart move, or maybe Taehyung
had enough of Seokjin’s spit in his face today to play it more on the safe side
this round. Whatever the reason, it makes it all to easy for Jimin to go in for
the direct attack, digging his fingers into Jungkook’s sides merciless and
fervent.
Jungkook jolts up immediately, twisting away. He bucks under their touch, every
bit as sensitive as he is stubborn to win the game.
On the other side, Seokjin’s got a brush between his fingers, stroking it up
and down the column of Jungkook’s neck. He’s going for all the weak spots,
tickling the sensitive area behind his ears as Namjoon, for lack of a better
word, gropes at his chest- his large hands twisting into the fabric of
Jungkook’s shirt. Jungkook goes red in the face, his body curling in on itself.
Yoongi watches him choke up, fighting the urge to laugh, and then inexplicably,
go limp.
It happens instantly.
Jungkook’s head lolls backwards, giving Seokjin even more access to his neck.
His entire body leans back, giving into the merciless tickling almost like
surrender, but Yoongi can see the tight line of his lips and knows they’ll have
to do a lot more to get Jungkook to break.
Hoseok knows it too and he leans in to up the ante, already a step ahead. He
blows directly into Jungkook’s ear, mouths something dirty, and Jungkook’s
knees buckle. He collapses down onto the chair, held up entirely by Taehyung’s
grip on his wrist and Namjoon’s arms fork-lifting him up by his armpits.
Seokjin takes the lack of resistance as progress and goes in for the kill. He
pulls Jungkook into a half hug, rubbing at his nipples with much better
precision than Namjoon. Jungkook bucks up into the touch, twisting away. His
movements are sluggish, futile in how little strength he has up against all of
them.
Eager, Hoseok dashes to the side and Seokjin follows in suit as they dodge
Jungkook’s wild thrashing to secure a leg each. They pull, sliding his bottom
off the chair until his shoulders bear the bulk of his weight, resting on the
bottom of the chair.
From this angle Yoongi can see Jungkook squirm, bundled together like a worm
with his eyes scrunched shut in an effort not to laugh. Namjoon continues
relentlessly, pinching at Jungkook’s sides in a way that leaves Yoongi
wondering if Namjoon even knows how to properly tickle someone or if he’s
trying to get Jungkook to fold on pain alone.
Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi sees Jimin hanging back, his eyes dark
with something behind the laughter. The high of competition courses through
them all, fueled by the singular determination to see Jeon Jungkook fail at
something, anything- but this, this is something different. Jimin looks
expectant, nearly gleeful at the way Jungkook writhes under their touch,
vulnerable and at their mercy. Yoongi would be lying (and he would, as a matter
of fact, lie if anyone bothered to ask), if he said he didn’t feel the heated
rush of power through his veins and didn’t love it just a little.
They won’t win on a power trip alone, sadly, which means Yoongi will have to
make an effort soon to pitch in. He watches Namjoon pull back, breaking a sweat
already. Jungkook in comparison, looks almost calm, slowly accommodating to the
tickling assault.
That won’t do.
Yoongi sucks in a breath, trying not to delight too much in the way Jungkook
looks up at him in muted panic as he picks up a brush and joins the fray.
From there, they try everything in the book- tickling his sides, the insides of
his thigh, and even the weak spot behind his knee. They pick at the soft flesh
on his neck until their nails leave marks. There’s splotchy red across
Jungkook’s skin, slow blossoming under his silent resistance. Jungkook’s body
jerks under their touch, the oversensitivity of it all, but never once does he
opens his lips.
Yoongi has him in a half-chokehold, ready to strangle the stubborn out of him
while tickling his ear with a brush when Seokjin pulls him back. His hand
shields the front of Jungkook’s shirt and for the first time Yoongi notices
that somehow amidst the chaotic tickling, they’d somehow manage to unbutton not
one, not two, but three - leaving Jungkook’s chest exposed to the camera.
He glances over at Taehyung who gives a half-shrug, guilty as day. From behind
the camera, the producer gives them the cut off signal as if the situation
hadn’t been out of hand for the past 5 minutes already.
Jungkook rises to his feet unsteadily, his hair looking ruffled and freshly
tugged. Yoongi can see tears prickling at the edge of his eyes from trying not
to laugh and even as he’s fumbling to button up his rucked up shirt, Jungkook
looks smug. (And why wouldn’t he? He’s won this game after all.)
“Do you still have the water in your mouth?”
Jungkook tilts back his head and gurgles triumphantly. He looks pleased with
himself and for a second even Yoongi could believe that the high flush in his
cheeks is a result of his victory and that alone.
 
                                      ---
 
No one lasts half, or anything close to what Jungkook lasted.
It’s basically a given that no one will beat his time of ∞, but that doesn’t
make it less funny when Namjoon nails Seokjin in the chest with the crown of
his head or when Seokjin receives a mouthful of Taehyung’s water to the face.
Jungkook keeps readjusting his belt, attaching the wire of his mic back on
probably, but Yoongi catches his eye as they’re transitioning to the next game.
Jungkook looks flushed still, his pupils dilated like he’s looking past Yoongi.
“You feel okay?” Taehyung asks. Yoongi watches the way his eyes darken at the
sight of Jungkook’s mussed up hair, the hazy flutter of his lashes.
“Yeah,” Jungkook grins. He’s unsteady on his feet, the slightest sheen of sweat
visible right above his brow, but the smugness in his voice makes Yoongi want
to drink some water just so he could spit it out all over his face.
 
                                      ---
 
Filming takes a lot out of them and by the time the camera crew calls it a day,
Yoongi feels drained. Such a word doesn’t exist in the realm of Jimin,
Taehyung, or Hoseok even, but Yoongi manages to catch Seokjin’s eye as they
trudge their weary, too-old-for-this-shit bodies up to the dorm, and feels
comfort in knowing that he’s not alone.  
Jungkook looks worn out too, but his eyes are on edge- constantly darting over
to the bathroom. He’s so predictable that Yoongi wants to laugh. Jungkook's
cheeks are still radiating a quiet warmth. The kind that threatens to burn, but
never quite makes it there. Yoongi sees him inch towards the hallway, kicking
his shoes off with a sigh, but before he gets a chance to bolt, Hoseok ropes an
easy arm around him and swings them both onto the couch. 
“Bangtan’s best man,” Hoseok coos. "Look at you." He runs his hand down
Jungkook’s arm from shoulder to elbow.
Jungkook flashes him a forcible thumbs up, eyes still glued to the bathroom
door. “I don’t know why you guys even try sometimes.”
There’s no malice in his tone, even though Yoongi could easily take it as such.
Jungkook’s breathing is palpable, heavier by the second as Hoseok keeps running
his hand up and down his arm. All that’s left is for Yoongi to give him a
little push.
“Don’t get cocky,” Yoongi chides, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He
lets his gaze fall on Jungkook’s socked feet, tracing their way up to his face
as his flush grows. “We let you off easy because of the cameras.”
Jungkook raises a brow, intrigued, challenged. “Really.”
“Duh,” Taehyung cuts in from behind the counter as he enters from the kitchen
side. Jimin’s beside him, looking a little flustered like he’s already pieced
together Yoongi’s master plan and added in his own little perverted fantasies
to the mix.
What Jungkook says next could be dangerous, but Yoongi knows how to push, knows
exactly where to push to make the game fall at his pace. He looks off to the
side, letting Jungkook's curiosity hang before he snags it back.  “You wouldn’t
be able to take it if we went all out.”
Jungkook’s eyes gleam. He tilts his chin to meet Yoongi’s gaze head on.
Jimin pushes through from the kitchen, over eager as always as he pulls a chair
to the center of the room. If Yoongi didn’t know any better, it would almost
look as if they’d rehearsed this ahead of time. Before Jungkook can protest,
Yoongi clears his throat.
“Same rules,” he states. His voice is full of gravel. “You keep the water in
your mouth, you win. You spit it out, you swallow it, whatever. We win.”
Jungkook nods, eyes shrewd as he weighs his odds. It’s almost impossible not to
take the challenge. Jungkook’s overconfident- riding on the high of his win as
readily as the rest of them want to topple him off his lofty hill. Yoongi’s not
a betting man, but in this instant he’d put all 100,000 won on his card down on
the table to see Jungkook lose for once.
“Time limit?” Jungkook asks quietly. Yoongi lets Taehyung cut in this time. “As
long as it takes for you to spit.” He raises a glass of water in Jungkook’s
direction. He grins, softening the challenge with a half-shrug. “Or until
Seokjin hyung decides to go to sleep.” 
“I’m awake, thanks for asking.” Seokjin’s voice comes drily from the hallway.
Namjoon is behind him looking perplexed. “What are you guys…?”
Hoseok smiles from his position on the couch. His hands are still roaming up
and down Jungkook's arm the way a child winds up their favorite toy. “We’re
playing a game.”
“Haven’t we had enough games for today?” Namjoon starts, but he catches on
fast, taking in the chair under Jimin’s arm, the cup of water in Taehyung’s
hand, the stiff angle of Jungkook’s back. He swallows. “Oh.”
“You in?” Hoseok calls and it’s an open invitation to both of them as much as
it echoes the challenge to Jungkook. Seokjin looks over warily, given his bad
luck in the previous rounds Yoongi can't blame him. He's surprised though when
Seokjin turns his gaze over to Jungkook, soft.
“Are you?” Seokjin asks, looking straight over at Jungkook and Jungkook crosses
his arms. “Yeah.” He walks over to the chair, plops down, and has the gall to
cross his legs together. There’s a smile on his face that makes Yoongi’s
fingers itch. “Bring it on.”
Taehyung passes him the glass of water and Yoongi watches him take a long sip,
eyes slipping into his zone of quiet concentration. There’s a long stretch of
silence, hungry apprehension that hangs in the air until Jungkook sets the
glass down on the table away from him and flashes a thumbs up.
It's open season. 
Taehyung leads the first charge, pulling Jungkook’s defensive battle stance
wide open as Hoseok doubles in for the attack. It’s an exact repeat of what
happened in the studio, practically a re-run when Namjoon grabs him from behind
and Jimin traces his fingers down to tickle Jungkook’s ribs.
What’s different this time is that Seokjin goes straight for his nipples,
pinching and twisting them through the fabric of his shirt. Jungkook moans,
high and muted in the back of his throat. The sound muffled through his shut
lips and the water inside.
They feed off the noise like piranhas dosed up on the tiniest drop of blood, a
true frenzy. Jimin surges forward, practically planting himself on Jungkook’s
lap to keep him pinned down as his fingers dig beneath Jungkook’s shirt. The
flash of skin sends something warm, hazy into the room and Yoongi sees Taehyung
take a quick step back, wetting his lips, before he rejoins the fray.
Jungkook squirms, bucks against Seokjin’s fingers against his nipples, laughter
scrunched in his eyes. He gurgles, the noise of water bubbling behind his shut
lips when Hoseok blows air against his ear. Namjoon’s arms keep him anchored in
place, unable to escape when Hoseok’s tongue dips into the shell of his ear.
“Gross,” Namjoon groans, but it sends a wave of laughter through them all as
Jungkook’s cheeks swell in surprise, threatening to burst. Yoongi watches the
line of Jungkook's neck go tense and after a moment of seriously impressive
self-control, no water escapes his lips. There’s an audible groan in the room
as Jungkook settles back, composure back in place.
“So close,” Hoseok pouts. He leans into do it again as Jungkook twists away and
nearly dumps Jimin off his lap. Jimin to his credit hangs on, clinging to
Jungkook’s shoulders as he struggles to stay balanced. Yoongi watches as
Jungkook’s cheeks suck back in, flushed and red.
Taehyung’s grip on his wrist keeps him afloat, saves him from toppling off the
chair when Hoseok succeeds in tracing the rim of his ear with his tongue and
Jungkook’s entire body shakes.
Someone’s hands, Yoongi has no idea who, grabs a fistful of his shirt and yanks
so hard that the top button flies off. The bounce of the button against the
wood floor is loud, sharp alongside the sounds of Jungkook’s breaths coming up
short- hissing through his nostrils. The color on his cheeks have warmed to a
full burn, yet Yoongi is drawn to the way his eyes are still focused, dark and
challenging.
He's not going down without a fight, but Yoongi's never been one to play fair. 
In general, Jungkook’s slow to heal. The scrape on his arm, above the elbow
from two months ago is still scabbed over, slowly darkening into a scar.
The bruises, pinched red and angry, that’ll form on his side from all their
roughhousing might last well into the month. Yoongi’s mouth feels dry thinking
about how Jungkook will go to bed each night and remember this game they play-
the way his hyungs passed him back and forth, taking turns to break him.
Seokjin’s hands are well practiced in stimulating Jungkook’s nipples and today
is no exception. He rubs Jungkook’s nipples between his fingers, twisting at
every inch of sensitive skin he can reach. Jungkook squirms in his seat,
bucking up against the sensation.
“Shit,” Jimin breathes. He’s gone all tense, spine rigid. He looks down at
Jungkook, leans his weight back like he’s afraid to move but even more afraid
to get up. “Fuck. Jungkook, you’re-”
Jungkook looks startled, breathing harshly through his nose. He shakes his
head, a high keening noise trapped in the back of his throat when Taehyung
pushes Jimin forward experimentally until he's practically straddling Jungkook.
Jungkook jolts in the chair like he’s been shocked, his legs trapped beneath
Jimin kicking out on impulse as Jimin grinds down on him, slow and unexpectedly
sweet. Hoseok lets out a breath, heavy and heated as Seokjin’s jaw drops. From
Yoongi’s angle, he can only imagine the half-lidded bliss on Jungkook’s face
contrasting the tentative excitement on Jimin’s.
“Shit,” Namjoon curses. His eyes are dark, clearly enjoying the show as much as
he’s alarmed by the quick twist of events. It’s a feeling shared by them all as
Yoongi sees Taehyung shamelessly brushing a hand against the front of his
crotch already.
Ever so slowly, Jimin grinds down. He does it again, unease turning rhythmic
and then dirty, until Jungkook expends what precious air he has left making
these small huffing noises caught in the back of his throat. Jimin leans
forward as if in a trance until they’re no more than a breath apart. His brows
are furrowed, lust and apprehension dueling in the shaky lines of his lips as
he leans in and kisses Jungkook.
Jungkook can’t kiss him back, the water in his mouth blocks any attempts at
actually making out, but all the same he lets himself be pulled back, neck held
in place by Hoseok’s hands as Jimin presses in deeper.
Next to him, Taehyung lets out a low, appreciative groan. Yoongi wants to echo
the sentiment, but his focus is glued to the way Jimin presses his lips against
Jungkook, pushing back at his hesitance until Jungkook’s nothing but pliant
arousal melting into their combined touch.
“Fuck that’s hot. You two are so-” Hoseok breathes. He sounds as every bit
overwhelmed as the rest of them feel watching the scene before them unravel.
Suddenly, Yoongi’s unsure exactly who’s game they’ve all stumbled into, punch
drunk off of the atmosphere- the singular urge to see Jungkook choke up, belly-
up and helpless.
Hoseok presses his own lips up against the line of Jungkook’s neck, grinning
against his collarbone when Jungkook’s fingers scramble against wooden bottom
of the chair. The sound of his nails, desperately clawing against the chair is
enough for Yoongi to finally step forward. He places a hand on Jungkook's side,
feels for the rabbit quick pulse fluttering inside his ribs. 
Yoongi doesn’t remember Taehyung letting Jungkook’s wrist go or, more
pertinently, when exactly Taehyung pulled out his cock, openly touching himself
as Jungkook squirms in response to Yoongi’s touch.
“That’s good enough for now,” Yoongi says and Jimin nods briefly, entranced by
the sound of Jungkook's choked off whine.  
There’s an awkward silence that descends upon them all as Jungkook’s eyes dart
back and forth, the water in his mouth still held. He makes no sound, no motion
to cover himself or his arousal as Jimin disentangles himself off the chair.
Jungkook’s eyes are watery and the weight of his gaze keeps Yoongi on edge as
he runs a gentle hand through Jungkook’s hair. His fingers scrape against the
edge of Jungkook’s scalp as Yoongi yanks him forward suddenly, watching
Jungkook’s eyes shoot open in pain. He lifts his arm, satisfied as Jungkook’s
entire body follows in suit, rising from the chair.
Without warning, Yoongi pushes him forward.
Jungkook falls onto his elbows, perfectly bent over on the ground in a plank
position. The sound surprises Hoseok- his eyes going wide as Yoongi shoves
Jungkook over to fall flat on his back. Namjoon says something, but it’s all a
faint buzz in the wake of Jungkook’s astonishment.
“Just spit it out,” Yoongi taunts from above. He leans down and reaches a hand
over to find the clasp to Jungkook’s belt, surprised to feel exactly how hard
Jungkook is. Jungkook bucks into his touch, needy like he’s been waiting for
this all along. “Spit it out and we’ll stop.”
Jungkook has the nerve to glare back, eyes full of fire. The entire room waits,
silence punctuated by the hissing of air as Jungkook pants heavily through his
nostrils.
“Do you want us to stop?” Seokjin asks. He places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder,
the weight of it questioning. Jungkook says nothing, but the very water in his
mouth defiant- a challenge back to them as Yoongi straddles a leg on either
side of Jungkook’s waist. “Gimme a nod or something.”
It’s funny, he thinks. The water in Jungkook's mouth essentially acts like a
gag and safe word in one and Yoongi sees him suck the water back from his
cheeks before nodding.
Satisfied, Yoongi steps back, making way for Jimin who settles neatly between
Jungkook’s spread legs, pushing his knees apart.
“Jungkookie,” Jimin says, softly. His voice covers the sound of the zipper
being undone, but it sends a tingle down Yoongi’s spine all the same. Jimin
looks carefully at Jungkook, studies the quiet concentration in his eyes and
the small tremor as it works its way down his spine. Yoongi knows he’s asking
for permission, but it’s not until Jimin tilts his head up, does Yoongi realize
that they’re both waiting for a signal of approval from him.
Fuck. 
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes. His voice comes out with more rasp than actual sound.
“Go ahead.”
Jungkook squirms as Jimin pulls his cock out into the open, his fingers digging
into the fabric of Jimin’s shirt. Jimin freezes for a second, looking at
Jungkook’s flushed cock with all the fascination in the world. At this point in
their careers, they’ve all seen each other’s dicks (done more than just look if
Yoongi’s being honest), but for some reason Jimin takes Jungkook into his mouth
like he’s not sure what he’s doing.
Regardless, the warmth of his mouth is more than enough for Jungkook to buck up
into, swallowing obscene noises back- the sound of it like he’s drowning. Jimin
raises his head for a second, Jungkook's cock slipping out of his mouth until
Namjoon places his hand down on the back of his head and gives him the
encouragement he needs.
This time when Jimin takes him into his mouth again, tongue lapping up and down
the shaft, Jungkook positively squirms. A low whine escapes his throat even
though his lips remain watertight. Yoongi watches Jimin suck him down and the
veins on the side of Jungkook’s neck as he forces himself to stay silent.
Jimin, with anything, gives it his best effort, sucking so fervently
that Yoongi can practically see the outline of Jungkook's cock pressed against
his cheek.  
Jungkook’s eyes are damp, the flutter of his lashes wet, by the time Jimin
pulls back up for breath. Jimin’s hand, the one not resting on Jungkook’s thigh
comes up to tug at the base of his cock, slow and lazy. Namjoon’s hands stay on
Jimin’s neck, patting soothing strokes across his upper back. Hoseok gives him
a few encouraging words and Jimin feeds off of the rays of positive attention,
taking Jungkook in so deep that Yoongi sees him choke, and then go deeper.  
A little farther away, Taehyung’s busy pulling at the wide-open collar of
Jungkook’s shirt. He tugs at it haphazardly, eyes glued to the slick movement
of Jimin's lips until Seokjin takes the shirt into his own hands and unbuttons
the rest. The shirt falls loose and with it, Yoongi can see all the faint marks
littered along Jungkook’s side. His skin is flushed, red from the effort it
takes for him to not laugh, moan, or even speak.
After a few more minutes, Jimin pulls back. He sucks in a deep breath, sitting
back on his heels long enough for Seokjin to squeeze himself into the tight
circle they’ve made around Jungkook. He takes a nipple into his mouth and
Jungkook shakes, his body heaving for breath to combat the pleasure. It's
impressive, really- how Jungkook can take the pleasure of six pairs of hands,
eager mouths, and cocks rubbing up against him and not crumble.
Seokjin's fingers play with the nipple not occupied with his mouth, the
slurping noises he makes completely obscene. The way he does it is too
practiced, too in tune with exactly what makes Jungkook jolt up and squirm,
that Yoongi knows this isn't the first time they've fooled around like this. 
Hoseok helps Jimin tug Jungkook’s pants past his mid-thigh, down to his knees.
It locks them together, giving Jungkook no room to squirm away as Hoseok pulls
Jungkook’s knees together and bends them at an angle so they all have a clear
view of the small gap between his thighs. Someone lets out a low groan and the
sound makes Jungkook squeeze his eyes shut, embarrassed.
Hoseok slides a hand between Jungkook's thighs with an appreciative
murmur.  “You’ve got nice thighs.” 
Jungkook flushes, a retort lined up in the back of his throat. He shakes his
head, as indignant as he is flattered. It gives Yoongi the feeling that
Jungkook shouldn’t like it as much as he does, but then that’s just about true
for almost everything Jungkook seems to like. Yoongi sees him think better of
speaking, unwilling to give up his progress in the game when Hoseok suddenly
pushes his legs up, rolling Jungkook's body up until the small of his back
comes off the floor. 
Jungkook’s thighs are really one of his best features, Yoongi thinks. The curve
of them gives his entire body a slight feminine touch- the pale tint of his
skin makes the softness of his thighs even more prominent, practically begging
to be grabbed. Gently, Hoseok slaps the back of Jungkook's leg, watching the
jiggle of his thigh settle before doing it again. Jungkook jolts up with each
hit, biting back little startled yelps that Yoongi is suddenly very glad he
can't hear, because even just the sound of it muffled is driving him insane.
Seokjin mutters something appreciatively, too far for Yoongi to hear but it
gets a chuckle out of Taehyung whose eyes are practically gleaming. 
Jungkook's bottom and the back of his thighs are red by the time Hoseok settles
back. It's a burning red, the shade of near danger and, unironically,
Jungkook's favorite color. Yoongi thinks if he could see it right now, the
sight of himself half delirious with pleasure and entirely mussed up under the
affections of all his hyungs, Jungkook would approve too.
They step back to let him catch his breath and Taehyung hands Hoseok something-
lube Yoongi surmises. How thoughtful. 
Hoseok uncaps a small bottle and pours a generous amount on his palm before he
slides his hand between Jungkook’s thighs, maddeningly slow. The friction must
be nerve-shredding as Jungkook throws his head back in frustration and Hoseok
repeats the movement.
“Hurry it up hyung,” Taehyung’s voice comes out like a growl and Yoongi’s not
sure he appreciates his impatient tone when the slow-burn teasing is finally
getting to Jungkook. “I wanna go next.”
“Says who you're next?” Yoongi replies coolly, smirking when Jimin looks
dejectedly towards the ground. Taehyung lets out a characteristic whine, but
even he knows better. They’ve both got their cocks out now, pre-come glistening
at the tips as Hoseok coats himself and tentatively slots his cock between
Jungkook’s thighs. He grabs the outside of Jungkook's knees to bring this
thighs even tighter together and slides in with a wet groan.
Namjoon curses, his eyes completely glazed over in lust and Yoongi sees Seokjin
hurriedly unzip his own pants. Even just from watching them go at it, the
bounce of Jungkook’s ass as Hoseok’s hips slide home is obscene. Hoseok’s cock
sliding between his slicked thighs leaves wet sound and with each thrust,
Jungkook is pushed further and further into the ground looking more debauched
by the second with his legs locked above him and his still socked toes curling
in pleasure. His hair is a mess, fanned out around his head in wild ripples.
His lips are still slick, shiny with Jimin's spit, and Yoongi realizes- as a
particularly hard thrust from Hoseok sends Jungkook whining in the back of his
throat- that it must make Jungkook proud in some really twisted sense. That if
Jungkook could somehow get the six of them off without as much as coming or
even letting the water slip out of his mouth, it would be the ultimate win. It
goes without saying that the more competitive Jungkook gets, the more aroused
he becomes. Yoongi just hadn’t been sure that it worked just as easily the
other way around.
Jungkook’s got a steel will when he sets his mind to something, but it still
doesn’t make him the least bit immune as Hoseok’s cock slides in and out
between his thighs, each movement smearing the lube against his skin. He
writhes under their touch, his nipples perky and slicked shiny with Seokjin’s
spit. His cock, still hard and leaking from Jimin’s mouth, bobs against his
stomach with each thrust.
Jungkook whines, sliding a hand down to palm at his cock when Yoongi slaps it
away. Jungkook’s eyes go wide, alarmed, before shooting to the ground, aroused.
Taehyung’s grin cuts in from the edge of his vision. “So you like it when we’re
mean, huh.”
Jungkook nods, shy and humbled, and that’s Hoseok's signal to give it to him
rougher, fucking against Jungkook so hard that Jungkook's back arches clean off
the ground. 
“Just spit out the water, Jungkookie,” Hoseok offers, shaking sweat out from
under his hairline. “Just spit it out and we’ll let you touch yourself.”
For a second, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna do it, but Jeon Jungkook never goes down
quietly and he’s sure as hell not going to roll over onto his back and give up
until he’s satisfied. Jungkook's ambition is endless, ready to take and take
until there's nothing on the table left to give. For some reason now, the dull
edge of arousal seems to suck it out of him until there's nothing but mindless
lust, fueled by the squelching sounds of Hoseok's cock fucking between his
thighs. 
"You're doing so good baby," Hoseok groans, thrusts growing erratic. "God
you're so fucking good."
Jungkook shivers, thighs trembling from keeping them raised for so long and
Hoseok tightens his grip, coming with a hoarse cry, spilling into the space
between Jungkook's thighs. Jungkook’s eyes flutter open, hazy and uncoordinated
as Hoseok rides out his orgasm between his thighs- the force of his thrusts
likely to bruise. Yoongi watches the come slide down his thighs and thinks he's
never seen anything prettier. 
Hoseok pulls back, breaths heavy, and in an instant, Taehyung scrambles into
place, pushing Jungkook onto his side and then onto his elbows and knees. He
fumbles with the lube, slicking his fingers generously. Jungkook's still
panting through his nose, eyes slightly watery from exertion. The slide of come
down the insides of his thighs seems to have humbled him at last. It’s a good
look, Yoongi thinks. He digs his fingernails into Jungkook’s shoulder, when
Taehyung leans over to Jungkook, lips wet on his ear. "Wanna fuck you. Is that
okay Jungkookie?"
Jungkook nods, trying to sneak a hand between his thighs before Seokjin pins it
down with an apologetic smile. It’s mean, nearly too much, but Jungkook takes
in stride, that little masochist. Yoongi doesn't even bothering hiding his grin
this time when Jungkook's body goes pliant, shivering hot from the way Seokjin
tightens his grip on his wrists. 
Taehyung’s fingers scoop up the cooling come slicked between his thighs and in
one smooth motion, slides it up the curve of Jungkook’s ass. From this angle,
Yoongi can only imagine the tip of his long fingers playing with the rim of
Jungkook’s ass, rubbing the come over it. 
"Fuck," Jimin gasps hotly and Seokjin murmurs in agreement as they watch
Jungkook's entire body tense up in anticipation. Taehyung slides a finger in,
slow as sin. He makes it two knuckles deep before sliding it back out, teasing.
Jungkook keens, a growl caught in the back of his throat and Taehyung presses
back in, again two knuckles deep and no more. 
It's an offer, another challenge and without hesitation Jungkook pushes back,
angling his hips to work himself back onto Taehyung's finger. "That's right,"
Taehyung grins. "Go on. Fuck yourself."
Competition gets Jungkook hard, but praise is what gets him off. "You're doing
well. Really well." Namjoon strokes a hand down the length of his back as
Jungkook pushes himself against Taehyung's fingers, tight and eager. "You're
fucking amazing."
Taehyung works in another finger, wrist still stiff and Jungkook dutifully
pushes back. By the time Taehyung slides in a third, Jungkook looks well fucked
out- his cheeks flushed scarlet and Hoseok's come, pearly and obscene, oozing
out of his ass like he's already been used. Yoongi watches the way he shakes
when Taehyung nuzzles his cheek against Jungkook's side, playing cute and all. 
"You ready?" Taehyung's cock presses against the swell of his ass and Jungkook
wiggles back, instantly. "I'll take that as a yes then."
“You’re so good at everything,” Hoseok continues as Taehyung pulls his fingers
out with a pop and lines himself up. “You’re so talented. Look at you take it.
So pretty.”
There's no air in the room, everyone's breath held in concentration like each
of them are holding water in their mouths as well. Their eyes tracing down the
line of Jungkook's body as Taehyung sinks in-inch by inch. The fit is tight,
has to be. Jungkook's no virgin, but the stretch of it has to burn- there's no
way it won't. Yoongi sees Jungkook tense up, the tendons of his neck straining
as Taehyung bottoms out and waits. 
"Hold on," Seokjin says. "He's not ready."
It's the wrong thing to say, for sure. As soon as the words leave his mouth,
Jungkook bucks up- fucking himself back against Taehyung hard and fast. "Stop
that," Yoongi hisses. He pushes his hands down, pinning Jungkook to the floor,
and sees Namjoon step forward to do the same. "You're going to hurt yourself."
Jungkook shakes his head, indignant. All the same he lets Taehyung control the
pace, slower and gentler than Yoongi could have imagined (than Yoongi would
have had the patience for himself). It takes a little longer for Yoongi to be
completely convinced that Jungkook is completely relax, but he makes these wet
little noises, keeps pulling and pushing back against Taehyung's cock like he
wants more and more. Most interestingly, through all of it Jungkook's mouth
remains sealed- completely watertight no matter how hard Taehyung fucks him. 
Yoongi keeps his hold on Jungkook, braces his hands on his shoulders to stop
him from collapsing. In a moment of weakness, he runs his hands across
Jungkook’s sweaty forehead and traces his fingers down the line of his jaw.
Yoongi watches him shudder as Taehyung's cock slips out, slippery from Hoseok's
come and lube. "It's okay," Seokjin hushes. He threads his hand with Yoongi's
and runs it down Jungkook's cheek, a gentle touch. 
It only takes a while longer for Taehyung to come, rutting up against Jungkook
one last time before he pulls back, spilling half of it onto Jungkook's back
and the other half down his thighs. Jimin lets out another needy moan, high and
breathy like he's making noises for Jungkook who can't. 
"Your turn," Taehyung pants, tilting his head towards Namjoon who is already
settling between Jungkook's sprawled legs. "You up for it?"
"Only if he is," Namjoon replies. He stares intently at Jungkook, the way his
chest rises and falls. "You ready for some more?"
Jungkook nods, still so eager that it makes Yoongi's blood run hot knowing that
Jungkook probably comes the hardest after getting fucked hard. 
It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, Yoongi thinks, that or
the really weird ones. There's not much time to think as Namjoon settles
between Jungkook's legs and slicks himself up. 
Namjoon fucks Jungkook on his back, probably to give his arms a break. He fucks
him with these long, steady strokes that leave Jungkook boneless against the
floor. Namjoon's big, definitely bigger than Taehyung, but from the way
Jungkook takes him you'd have never known. It's hot as hell, the way Jungkook's
entire body jolts up from the force of Namjoon's thrusts, trying to meet him
half-way for more.
Yoongi slowly jerks himself off, wonders what Jungkook will feel like by the
time he gets to him. If he'll be as hot and wet as a girl, or still tight after
taking all their cocks. 
The image of Jungkook’s thighs trembling like he can’t help himself paired with
the steely determination in his eyes, the singular crease of his mouth, is too
much as Seokjin spills all over his fist. Bits of his come land on Jungkook's
chest and the low groan in his throat is enough to spur Namjoon into
completion, slamming against Jungkook one last time before he comes hard,
riding out his orgasm with a few more curses.
The haze clears after a moment and then all there's left is Jimin looking at
Yoongi like he's ready to beg. "Go for it," Yoongi grins. He's got a better
idea anyways. 
Jimin nods, surprised but eager all the same as he waits for Namjoon to pull
out. He settles in between Jungkook's spent body, pushes him down on his back,
and leans up to kiss him. It's just like before: Jimin pressing eager kisses
against the hard line of his mouth and Jungkook eagerly responsive even though
he can't kiss back. They kiss for a little while, until Yoongi grows bored and
pushes Jimin back where he belongs, flushed and hard against Jungkook's well-
used ass.
"Hurry it up," Yoongi growls, but even then Jimin fucks Jungkook slowly,
tentative like it's their first time and not like Jimin's fucking him through a
sloppy third. 
Yoongi settles down on his knees and sees Jimin mutter something back. He has
no idea what Jimin's saying or anything at all as he concentrates on jerking
himself off against Jungkook's cheek- his cock held directly above his
face.  Jimin lets out a high whine, something all kinds of desperate as Yoongi
slides his hand up from Jungkook's shoulder and slides it into his hair,
tugging gently.
They work him into a smooth rhythm. Jimin rutting against him as Yoongi twists
his fingers into his hair and jerks himself off with the other hand. Jimin's
too nice when he fucks which makes Yoongi want to be rougher by tenfold. He
tugs Jungkook's hair, whispers curses harshly against the sound of Jimin's
moans until Jungkook's eyes are teary from the mix of gentle pleasure and sharp
pain. They push him back and forth for god knows how long until Jimin comes
with loud groan, locking himself against Jungkook's pliant body as the
aftershocks jolt them both.
Jungkook can't stop moaning, completely lost now as Jimin gives him a few quick
tugs and then it's over. Jungkook comes hard with a choking gasp and Yoongi
sees his jaw drop in ecstasy- the smallest trickle of water leaking past his
lips. 
That last victory is all it takes for Yoongi to come, spilling over his fist
onto Jungkook’s face below. The first bit catches onto the edge of his cheek,
glistening and pearly thick. Jungkook inhales sharply, through his nose, and
jerks back when the second splash hits him against his mouth. It drips down
onto the edge of his chin, mixing in with the small trickle of water.
Jungkook's in a daze. Yoongi sees the disappointment on his face, mixed in with
the bliss from his own orgasm. 
“Swallow,” he commands, watching in utmost satisfaction as Jungkook works his
throat once, twice. Obedient. 
His mouth is empty, waterless when he opens it and Yoongi sees him pant,
sucking in his first real breath since this whole thing began. He rolls onto
his side, coughing weakly as Yoongi's come slides down his cheek. 
“You did good,” Hoseok comments. He's got a ring of sweat around his collar.
“Real good, Jungkookie.”
Yoongi grabs his own cock, still wet on the tip and rubs it across the line of
Jungkook’s open mouth. He watches the last pearls of come catch onto Jungkook’s
lips, sticky like sin.
“Please,” Jungkook mumbles. His voice is beyond wrecked, but the vibrations
still shoot up Yoongi’s cock, hazing his mind like static. "Again."
"You're done here," Seokjin says mutely. He blinks rapidly like he can't
believe it either. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Yoongi watches Jungkook shake his head, the stubborn competitive streak in him
still going strong. His eyes are dark and playful as he sizes up at Yoongi,
legs curled up coyly as he props himself up onto his elbows. "Are you guys
giving up?"
"Hell no," Yoongi replies. He rubs a thumb across Jungkook's cheek, placating.
"We're not going to break you though."
"I'm not," Jungkook retorts. He sucks in a breath. "I want a rematch."
Jungkook wets his lips and then, without being asked, tilts his chin up to suck
Yoongi in. 
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