jairang

i write fics or whateva

[gimmethatagustd]

the shark-boy statue in taehyung’s apartment;

about. nsfw 18+

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[funstyle]

Im always like "i will not add my two cents. i will not add my two cents" but i cant lie the pennies are getting sweaty in my hand

[gimmethatagustd]

plot twist | pjm + jjk

Summary: It turns out Jimin doesn't have any problem with Jungkook kissing guys if it’s Jimin he’s kissing.

Pairing: Jimin x Jungkook

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3,349

Tags: Roommates, Angst, Sexuality Crisis, Drunk Blow Jobs, Deepthroating

Content Warning: Recreational Drug Use (acid)

A/N: i read this retelling of a reddit thread in fucking 2016 and told myself one day i would write a story based on it. but then my motivation disappeared, so now you get whatever this is jsdfkhs - "straight guy worries he’s being homophobic to gay roommate, realizes he’s fallen in love with him"

Masterlist | AO3

The return of the discounted margarita happy hour at a local American-style diner had all of Jimin’s friends arguing over which evening they should plan to meet up.

Seokjin felt he got priority as the oldest of the group, picking a Thursday evening after all the guys were off work. It takes very little effort to convince Jimin to go for dinner with his friends, but it takes more effort to convince him to drink alcohol while they’re out. Still, ever-agreeable Jimin doesn’t want to disappoint his oldest hyung. 

So he orders himself a discounted margarita and tries not to make too twisted of a face when the waitress places it in front of him. 

Taking a bite out of a mozzarella stick, Jimin lets the stringy cheese pull away, instantly regretting the decision as the heat of the oil burns his tongue. Moving his attention from the mozzarella sticks to the electric blue frozen margarita in front of him, he uses his straw to stab at the slush on top. The drink's coolness soothes the part of his tongue that’s burned. 

“Tell us the rest of what happened, Jungkookie.” 

Namjoon props his elbows on the table and holds his chin in his hands. His bright eyes are eager as he stares at the man across from him. 

Jimin realizes he has zoned out of the conversation while trying not to make a face at the sourness of the margarita. So many of them are crowded around the table that it’s hard to keep up with all the side conversations. Right now, everyone appears to be focused on whatever Jungkook has to say.

The grin Jungkook flashes makes Jimin’s stomach flip. He continues sucking on his margarita; the slush keeps clogging the straw. He has to suck extra hard to get anything out, his cheeks hollowing and his lips puckering around the straw. Jungkook’s eyes flicker in Jimin’s direction, and he quickly releases the straw from his mouth, his face growing warm despite the cold drink. 

“You’re so dirty, hyung,” Jungkook accuses with a smirk that has Namjoon protesting until Seokjin is shushing him for being a baby. “Well, his head game was out of this world. I’ve never seen someone so eagerly gag on cock like he didn’t even need to breathe. But what really shocked me was his cock, though. It’s fucking massive.” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. “I think we shouldn’t be talking about Yoongi hyung like this, especially when he’s not here.” 

Jimin inhales sharply and a piece of mozzarella stick gets lodged in his throat. It takes Taehyung slapping the shit out of his back for him to cough himself into shape. He’d had no idea that the person Jungkook was bragging about fucking was Yoongi. 

“How could he be mad at me? I’m only telling the truth,” Jungkook sniffles, his innocent pout slowly morphing into a grin. “If I was him, I’d be happy to know that my cock was being advertised so well.”

Seokjin lets out a loud snort. 

Jimin finds it concerning how Namjoon is hanging onto every word Jungkook utters. 

“ Anyway ” – Jungkook gives Taehyung a pointed look – “this whole time, I thought he would be a pillow prince. I was fully prepared to be doing all the work, but fuck was I wrong. We went so many rounds my dick is sore.” 

“Shhh, shut the fuck up; here they come.” 

Jimin follows Seokjin’s gaze to see Yoongi and Hoseok give the group little waves as they approach the table. Unsurprisingly, Yoongi chooses to slide next to Jungkook in the booth, even though the side Jimin is sitting on has more room. 

It’s not like Jimin and Yoongi aren’t like, best friends or anything. Not like they haven’t known each other for their entire lives, or anything. Nah. It’s fine. This is nothing to even think about, really. 

“Hey guys,” Yoongi says with the gummy smile everyone is so in love with. 

An image of Jungkook, sweaty and balls deep inside Yoongi, lodges itself in Jimin’s brain. 

Hoseok beams a greeting, quickly flagging a waitress to order more alcohol. They all know it’s a bad idea, but they let Hoseok do what he wants anyway. He deserves to let loose, even if it means becoming a zombie by the end of the night. 

The look Jungkook gives Yoongi makes Jimin taste bile in the back of his throat. He rips his eyes away from the plumpness of Jungkook’s bottom lip when his pink, wet tongue swipes over it while Yoongi watches. 

Jungkook is so tactless. 

Jimin can’t understand why Yoongi allows himself to get caught up in that type of behavior. Just seeing Yoongi tongue at the inside of his cheek when Jungkook’s hands disappear beneath the table makes Jimin want to throw up. 

Tactless and not subtle whatsoever. 

Jimin can’t believe he has to live with him. It was a split decision, agreeing to let Jungkook move in when his old roommate moved cities. Hoseok was the one who convinced Jimin to do it. “Jungkook is our friend!” Hoseok had said with a cheerful smile. 

The thing is, Jungkook has always rubbed Jimin the wrong way. Jimin doesn’t really know why. He just does.

Being roommates with Jungkook means Jimin is forced to spend too much time with him, especially when their other friends are busy. 

He’d be lying if he said Jungkook’s invitation to a secret rave hadn’t surprised him. Jungkook and Jimin rarely hang out alone. They had very little in common compared to their mutual friends, and Jungkook has a habit of making Jimin uncomfortable. It’s like he lives for finding ways to bother Jimin.

But this time, Jimin vowed to make an effort. After Hoseok’s plea for Jimin to stop acting like he has a stick up his ass, he’s determined to be friendlier to Jungkook. 

Only for Hoseok. No other reason. 

They met up with a few of Jungkook’s other friends, so Jimin didn’t have to worry as much about being alone with him. Even better, they drank before going to the club. Pregaming is the only way to do events like this the right way; having a buzz from the start makes it more bearable, even if Jimin isn’t fond of alcohol. Hanging out with someone he isn’t particularly close to, one-on-one, makes Jimin nervous. Some liquid courage usually helps.

This time, the liquid courage helps a little too much.

“I'm so drunk. Why did you let me drink?” Jimin rubs his bloodshot eyes with his palms. It’s been hours , and all the drinking and dancing has finally worn Jimin down. He can barely think straight from the alcohol buzzing in his system. 

He’s also pretty sure he did acid with Jungkook and one of his friends, but he can’t remember. 

“Do you wanna leave?” Jungkook asks. 

The thought of Jungkook leaving him alone, drunk, at a nightclub makes Jimin’s anxiety spike, but he doesn’t want to sound desperate.

“Maybe get some fresh air?” 

Jungkook nods and follows Jimin through the sea of people dancing and crowding the bar where Jimin had sucked down a glass of water. It takes deliberate steps to get to the front doors, and the chilly air nearly knocks Jimin over, but he welcomes the sharpness that cuts through his intoxicated mind.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jungkook points out once they’re outside.

“Well, I am so fucked up.” Jimin punctuates his statement with an uncharacteristic giggle. He feels like his heart is clawing its way up his throat, thudding against him, offbeat.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Jungkook’s typical teasing doesn’t bother Jimin the same when he knows Jungkook is also drunk and high. Which is probably why one of Jungkook’s arms wraps around Jimin’s waist. 

A small sound of contentment hums from Jimin as he leans into Jungkook slightly, appreciating the extra body heat. The response is his body running on its own, Jimin’s inebriated brain struggling to swim through the slosh in his skull. In any normal setting, he would have never thought to even touch Jungkook, let alone nuzzle against him. Jimin closes his eyes, hoping the world would stop swimming with him, and all he sees is pulsating darkness.

“Umm, we could…” Deep swallow, clammy palms sliding against the thighs of his jeans. Where is the Jimin who normally radiates confidence? “Yeah, go home. If you want.”

“Is that what you want?” Even without the psychedelic lighting of the rave tumbling along inside, Jungkook’s expression sparkles against the night. 

Jimin’s gaze moves from his brightly lit phone to Jungkook. Calling a rideshare or a taxi, checking his bank app to make sure he has money in his account, or texting Hoseok that he is maybe dying–all are tasks Jimin can’t complete when he feels like he’s getting sucked inside of the screen. He feels like he isn’t making sense. 

“I want you.” Jimin’s words fall out of his mouth faster than his brain can keep up. He quickly looks back down at his phone, realizing his error as his cheeks grow even pinker. “To decide. Where we go.” 

“Hmm, is that so?” Jungkook purrs. The deep tone of his voice is unexpected, and it brings heat nipping at Jimin’s chest and up his face. 

“I–” 

Jimin lets out an audible gasp when Jungkook’s firm grip on his waist pushes him backward. 

“You want me ?” 

Jimin is sober enough to feel nervous looking at Jungkook in his darkened eyes, so he settles for Jungkook’s tongue poking just outside of the corner of his mouth. 

Jungkook smirks. “I can make a decision for you.” 

His lips are soft as they drag against Jimin’s. Jimin suddenly feels hyper-aware of his lack of chapstick, having left it in the jacket he chose not to wear out. As Jungkook squeezes Jimin's hips and shoves him against the wall, Jimin pushes the thought from his mind as quickly as it came.

Jungkook moves with a commanding sense of power that has Jimin easily malleable in his hands. Jimin gasps against Jungkook’s mouth when he feels the firmness of his chest beneath his fingers. Maybe it’s the drugs or the alcohol, or simply Jungkook , but Jimin’s brain splinters and shatters when he shifts his body, causing his thigh to brush against Jungkook's. And that’s when the reality of the situation hits him. 

Jungkook is hard. 

Fuck.

Jungkook’s teeth dig into Jimin’s bottom lip when he pulls away. He’s sure his mouth is now shiny and pink like Jungkook’s. It’s all Jimin can focus on as he attempts to blink away the dizzy feeling in his brain. 

Jungkook has one hand pressed against the wall beside Jimin’s head, the other squeezing his hip. Something about being caged in, the heat of Jungkook’s body burning against his, makes Jimin feel small. He doesn’t want to think about why he likes it. 

“I’ll get us a ride, okay, Jimin-ah?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes the only word he can get out, widened eyes scanning Jungkook’s face, too shocked to be embarrassed by how his chest is erratically rising and falling. He immediately lets go of Jungkook’s shirt after holding on so tightly his knuckles ache. He watches Jungkook pull up the app on his phone and struggles to keep his mind from wandering into the darkness that is Jungkook’s eyes on him every time he looks up. 

They burn into Jimin’s core.

How the fuck did they end up here? 

“You’re shaking.” Jungkook smirks as he leans in to rest his chin on Jimin’s shoulder as Jimin struggles to unlock his apartment door. “Do I make you nervous, Jiminie?” 

Jimin is barely holding it together with Jungkook’s cheek brushing against his neck. He flip-flops between wanting to pull away and wanting to lean further into him.

“I don’t get nervous,” Jimin says. 

The statement is flat, and nowhere near as convincing as Jimin hopes. Maybe even laughable, with his pink face and his heart pounding in his throat. It doesn’t help that his fingers fumble so terribly with his keys that he drops them and has to quickly bend down to scoop them up.

Finally getting the door unlocked, Jimin kicks off his sneakers (proper house etiquette present even when fucked up) and turns a bit too quickly on his heel. His socks slip against the wooden floor as he wobbles to stay upright.

“What’s up?” Jungkook’s voice is filled with amusement, and his eyes are bright despite being bloodshot. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re not real?” Jimin stares at Jungkook, unable to pull himself out of the darkness of his pupils. He asks the next question quietly, just like the first, muted enough for only Jungkook to hear. But there is only Jungkook. “Or like you were meant to be someone else?”

Before Jungkook answers, Jimin brings his free hand against the back of Jungkook’s head to pull him into another kiss, this one harder and heavy with the weight of knowing he shouldn't be doing this.

A broken, pathetic whimper comes from somewhere inside Jimin when Jungkook grinds his hips into his, making their cocks drag against each other through their pants. The feeling is unlike anything Jimin has ever experienced. Kissing Jungkook is safe; Jimin can pretend he’s kissing anyone. But to feel Jungkook’s cock hard against his own, shifting to press against his thigh, then moving back again… There’s no denying what he’s doing, and there’s no denying who he’s doing it with.  

Reaching between their bodies, Jungkook rubs his hand over the bulge in Jimin’s jeans and another whimper escapes Jimin’s lips. The sound is so loud and pathetic that it startles him, but Jungkook seems to love it. 

“What was that, Jiminie?” Jungkook asks with a smirk. 

Heavy panting is all the response Jungkook is going to get from Jimin, especially when his other hand drops to unbutton Jimin’s jeans. The pressure of Jungkook pulling his zipper sends dull shocks of electricity through Jimin’s cock, making it twitch uncontrollably. He’s never been harder in his entire life, and he hates it. 

Does he hate it? Jungkook is so…

“You’re so fucking hot.” 

Jungkook verbalizes what Jimin can’t. Then he does exactly what Jimin is scared of: he curls those cute little fingers around the edge of Jimin’s jeans and tugs. 

“Mmm, hyung , why have you been hiding such a beautiful cock from me?” 

Jimin feels his face burn with heat so searing he thinks he might pass out. 

Jungkook presses his thumb against Jimin’s slit to smear the beads of precum around the tip. The gentle massage is enough to make Jimin buck forward. 

“Fuck,” Jimin whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“You’ve never done this before, have you, hyung?” Jungkook’s breath is hot against his ear. The deep chuckle that punctuates his question hints at the devious smirk he wears. “Never had another man touch you.” 

Jungkook clenches Jimin's cock. He’s leaking so much that working up a steady rhythm is easy. Jungkook drags his fingers through Jimin's hair with his free hand, pushing his bangs up and securing a solid hold on the soft strands. He tugs hard until a moan tumbles from Jimin’s pretty lips. 

“Not going to answer me?” 

Shame burns into Jimin’s cheeks and mixes with the unfortunately undeniable lust wreaking havoc on his body. “No, I’ve-I’ve, n-never–” Jimin moans, shocked to hear his voice come out with so much need. 

Jungkook hums with a bite of his bottom lip, eyes twinkling. “So I’m special .” 

Jimin tries to nod, but Jungkook’s fingers are still tight in his hair.

“You have such a pretty cock. So soft and heavy, with such a cute little curve, hm?” Jungkook swipes his thumb over Jimin’s tip as another bead of precum dribbles out. Then, with the liquid smeared on the digit, Jungkook locks eyes with Jimin as he sticks out his flattened tongue and presses his thumb against it. “Taste good, too, baby.” 

Jungkook tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. He keeps his eyes trained on Jimin but allows his body to sink slowly until he is on his knees in between Jimin’s legs. 

“Wanna choke on your cock. Will you let me? I promise I’ll do it better than those boring girls you’re always bringing home.”

"Jungkook," Jimin whines as he squeezes the base of his cock. 

He parts his lips slightly and drags the head of Jimin’s cock over his mouth, rubbing his precum like lip balm. When he seems to have enough, Jungkook lets Jimin’s cock rest on his face as he laps his tongue at the underside. Occasionally, he drops further to suckle Jimin’s balls, tonguing the smooth skin. In everything he does, Jungkook maintains eye contact with Jimin. His normally sparkly eyes are dark and lidded; the expression makes Jimin’s cock throb harder. 

“Yeah, hyung? Want your cock in my mouth?” Jungkook teases. “I want to hear you say it. Ask me to ruin you like a good boy, okay?” 

Waiting for his response, Jungkook swirls his tongue around the tip of Jimin's cock. 

"Oh god," Jimin sobs. He reaches down to dig his fingers into Jungkook's shoulders and tries not to buck his hips into his face. His mind is screaming at him to relax, to think this all through because every ounce of this interaction feels laced with the promise of regret. But his mouth is speaking before his brain can keep up. "I want it." 

Sliding his hands up Jimin’s thighs, Jungkook grabs his ass cheeks and pulls his body flush against his own. In one swift motion, Jungkook swallows Jimin until the head of his cock rams against the back of his throat. His moans make pleasure ripple through Jimin’s abdomen.

Jimin’s legs shake and he grabs Jungkook’s shoulders to steady himself. “I’m- I’m…” 

Jungkook's jaw goes slack as Jimin gasps, feeling his nose press into his abdomen. No one has ever taken Jimin all the way like that before. Jimin can feel Jungkook swallowing around him, constricting and relaxing his throat muscles while humming against him. Jungkook's tongue against the underside of Jimin's cock has Jimin bucking forward. 

Instead of pulling away and scolding him as Jimin expected, Jungkook tightens his grip on Jimin's ass, rocking his body forward and forcing himself to gag.   

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jungkook.” A weak moan is the only warning that Jimin was quickly spiraling.

Colors blossom and then burst behind Jimin’s eyelids as he shoots his release down Jungkook’s throat. Every swallow further milks more of his cum until his cock is so sensitive that the head hitting the back of Jungkook’s throat makes Jimin tremble violently. 

“Jungkook, please,” Jimin lets out a strangled moan and weakly pushes Jungkook away from him by his shoulders. 

“Shit,” Jungkook groans once he sits back and stares up at Jimin with glassy eyes. “I wanna fuck you so bad.” 

Fear dances with desire in Jimin’s chest, stirring up his heart until it’s beating through his ribcage.

“I… I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not… not yet.” 

The disappointed look on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin’s heart shrivel up.  

“Okay,” Jungkook says softly, his expression eventually growing into a small smile. “That’s okay.”

The only sound in the room is Jimin’s heavy breathing as he attempts to calm himself down. 

After a moment, Jungkook stands up. He catches sight of himself in the mirror hanging in the hallway. If he wasn’t already struggling to breathe, Jimin would have had difficulty inhaling as he watches Jungkook smooth his hair and adjust how his jeans fit against his crotch. 

Jimin can’t know what Jungkook is thinking, but he thinks Jungkook looks beautiful.

“I’m sorry.”

Holding the side of Jimin’s face, Jungkook kisses away whatever other apologies he has lined up on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t apologize,” he murmurs against Jimin’s lips, providing just enough time for them to breathe before diving in again. 

Jimin thinks he likes the way he tastes on Jungkook’s tongue.

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[gimmethatagustd]

jai's taglist;

against my better judgment jsdkfs i'm reinstating my taglist. you can join by submitting this google form (it won't collect your email address).

alternatively, if you subscribe to me on AO3 you'll get an email notif when i post

[gimmethatagustd]

i love being a terror 🙂‍↔️ @rkiveslibrary

[rkiveslibrary]

Terror jai back at it again (I love it!!!!)

[gimmethatagustd]

[gimmethatagustd]

i love being a terror 🙂‍↔️ @rkiveslibrary

[neverwonderneverremember]

sleep is stolen time. don't let them take it from you anymore. tonight. we are staying up. til one billion o clock.

[writingdose]

(me with fanfics except I keep writing them)

[jung-koook]

jungkook comforting namjoon 🥹

[itsvminkook]

TAEHYUNG BTS - ‘SWIM’ Official MV

[gimmethatagustd]

jai's taglist;

against my better judgment jsdkfs i'm reinstating my taglist. you can join by submitting this google form (it won't collect your email address).

alternatively, if you subscribe to me on AO3 you'll get an email notif when i post

[gimmethatagustd]

plot twist | pjm + jjk

Summary: It turns out Jimin doesn't have any problem with Jungkook kissing guys if it’s Jimin he’s kissing.

Pairing: Jimin x Jungkook

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3,349

Tags: Roommates, Angst, Sexuality Crisis, Drunk Blow Jobs, Deepthroating

Content Warning: Recreational Drug Use (acid)

A/N: i read this retelling of a reddit thread in fucking 2016 and told myself one day i would write a story based on it. but then my motivation disappeared, so now you get whatever this is jsdfkhs - "straight guy worries he’s being homophobic to gay roommate, realizes he’s fallen in love with him"

Masterlist | AO3

The return of the discounted margarita happy hour at a local American-style diner had all of Jimin’s friends arguing over which evening they should plan to meet up.

Seokjin felt he got priority as the oldest of the group, picking a Thursday evening after all the guys were off work. It takes very little effort to convince Jimin to go for dinner with his friends, but it takes more effort to convince him to drink alcohol while they’re out. Still, ever-agreeable Jimin doesn’t want to disappoint his oldest hyung. 

So he orders himself a discounted margarita and tries not to make too twisted of a face when the waitress places it in front of him. 

Taking a bite out of a mozzarella stick, Jimin lets the stringy cheese pull away, instantly regretting the decision as the heat of the oil burns his tongue. Moving his attention from the mozzarella sticks to the electric blue frozen margarita in front of him, he uses his straw to stab at the slush on top. The drink's coolness soothes the part of his tongue that’s burned. 

“Tell us the rest of what happened, Jungkookie.” 

Namjoon props his elbows on the table and holds his chin in his hands. His bright eyes are eager as he stares at the man across from him. 

Jimin realizes he has zoned out of the conversation while trying not to make a face at the sourness of the margarita. So many of them are crowded around the table that it’s hard to keep up with all the side conversations. Right now, everyone appears to be focused on whatever Jungkook has to say.

The grin Jungkook flashes makes Jimin’s stomach flip. He continues sucking on his margarita; the slush keeps clogging the straw. He has to suck extra hard to get anything out, his cheeks hollowing and his lips puckering around the straw. Jungkook’s eyes flicker in Jimin’s direction, and he quickly releases the straw from his mouth, his face growing warm despite the cold drink. 

“You’re so dirty, hyung,” Jungkook accuses with a smirk that has Namjoon protesting until Seokjin is shushing him for being a baby. “Well, his head game was out of this world. I’ve never seen someone so eagerly gag on cock like he didn’t even need to breathe. But what really shocked me was his cock, though. It’s fucking massive.” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. “I think we shouldn’t be talking about Yoongi hyung like this, especially when he’s not here.” 

Jimin inhales sharply and a piece of mozzarella stick gets lodged in his throat. It takes Taehyung slapping the shit out of his back for him to cough himself into shape. He’d had no idea that the person Jungkook was bragging about fucking was Yoongi. 

“How could he be mad at me? I’m only telling the truth,” Jungkook sniffles, his innocent pout slowly morphing into a grin. “If I was him, I’d be happy to know that my cock was being advertised so well.”

Seokjin lets out a loud snort. 

Jimin finds it concerning how Namjoon is hanging onto every word Jungkook utters. 

“ Anyway ” – Jungkook gives Taehyung a pointed look – “this whole time, I thought he would be a pillow prince. I was fully prepared to be doing all the work, but fuck was I wrong. We went so many rounds my dick is sore.” 

“Shhh, shut the fuck up; here they come.” 

Jimin follows Seokjin’s gaze to see Yoongi and Hoseok give the group little waves as they approach the table. Unsurprisingly, Yoongi chooses to slide next to Jungkook in the booth, even though the side Jimin is sitting on has more room. 

It’s not like Jimin and Yoongi aren’t like, best friends or anything. Not like they haven’t known each other for their entire lives, or anything. Nah. It’s fine. This is nothing to even think about, really. 

“Hey guys,” Yoongi says with the gummy smile everyone is so in love with. 

An image of Jungkook, sweaty and balls deep inside Yoongi, lodges itself in Jimin’s brain. 

Hoseok beams a greeting, quickly flagging a waitress to order more alcohol. They all know it’s a bad idea, but they let Hoseok do what he wants anyway. He deserves to let loose, even if it means becoming a zombie by the end of the night. 

The look Jungkook gives Yoongi makes Jimin taste bile in the back of his throat. He rips his eyes away from the plumpness of Jungkook’s bottom lip when his pink, wet tongue swipes over it while Yoongi watches. 

Jungkook is so tactless. 

Jimin can’t understand why Yoongi allows himself to get caught up in that type of behavior. Just seeing Yoongi tongue at the inside of his cheek when Jungkook’s hands disappear beneath the table makes Jimin want to throw up. 

Tactless and not subtle whatsoever. 

Jimin can’t believe he has to live with him. It was a split decision, agreeing to let Jungkook move in when his old roommate moved cities. Hoseok was the one who convinced Jimin to do it. “Jungkook is our friend!” Hoseok had said with a cheerful smile. 

The thing is, Jungkook has always rubbed Jimin the wrong way. Jimin doesn’t really know why. He just does.

Being roommates with Jungkook means Jimin is forced to spend too much time with him, especially when their other friends are busy. 

He’d be lying if he said Jungkook’s invitation to a secret rave hadn’t surprised him. Jungkook and Jimin rarely hang out alone. They had very little in common compared to their mutual friends, and Jungkook has a habit of making Jimin uncomfortable. It’s like he lives for finding ways to bother Jimin.

But this time, Jimin vowed to make an effort. After Hoseok’s plea for Jimin to stop acting like he has a stick up his ass, he’s determined to be friendlier to Jungkook. 

Only for Hoseok. No other reason. 

They met up with a few of Jungkook’s other friends, so Jimin didn’t have to worry as much about being alone with him. Even better, they drank before going to the club. Pregaming is the only way to do events like this the right way; having a buzz from the start makes it more bearable, even if Jimin isn’t fond of alcohol. Hanging out with someone he isn’t particularly close to, one-on-one, makes Jimin nervous. Some liquid courage usually helps.

This time, the liquid courage helps a little too much.

“I'm so drunk. Why did you let me drink?” Jimin rubs his bloodshot eyes with his palms. It’s been hours , and all the drinking and dancing has finally worn Jimin down. He can barely think straight from the alcohol buzzing in his system. 

He’s also pretty sure he did acid with Jungkook and one of his friends, but he can’t remember. 

“Do you wanna leave?” Jungkook asks. 

The thought of Jungkook leaving him alone, drunk, at a nightclub makes Jimin’s anxiety spike, but he doesn’t want to sound desperate.

“Maybe get some fresh air?” 

Jungkook nods and follows Jimin through the sea of people dancing and crowding the bar where Jimin had sucked down a glass of water. It takes deliberate steps to get to the front doors, and the chilly air nearly knocks Jimin over, but he welcomes the sharpness that cuts through his intoxicated mind.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jungkook points out once they’re outside.

“Well, I am so fucked up.” Jimin punctuates his statement with an uncharacteristic giggle. He feels like his heart is clawing its way up his throat, thudding against him, offbeat.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Jungkook’s typical teasing doesn’t bother Jimin the same when he knows Jungkook is also drunk and high. Which is probably why one of Jungkook’s arms wraps around Jimin’s waist. 

A small sound of contentment hums from Jimin as he leans into Jungkook slightly, appreciating the extra body heat. The response is his body running on its own, Jimin’s inebriated brain struggling to swim through the slosh in his skull. In any normal setting, he would have never thought to even touch Jungkook, let alone nuzzle against him. Jimin closes his eyes, hoping the world would stop swimming with him, and all he sees is pulsating darkness.

“Umm, we could…” Deep swallow, clammy palms sliding against the thighs of his jeans. Where is the Jimin who normally radiates confidence? “Yeah, go home. If you want.”

“Is that what you want?” Even without the psychedelic lighting of the rave tumbling along inside, Jungkook’s expression sparkles against the night. 

Jimin’s gaze moves from his brightly lit phone to Jungkook. Calling a rideshare or a taxi, checking his bank app to make sure he has money in his account, or texting Hoseok that he is maybe dying–all are tasks Jimin can’t complete when he feels like he’s getting sucked inside of the screen. He feels like he isn’t making sense. 

“I want you.” Jimin’s words fall out of his mouth faster than his brain can keep up. He quickly looks back down at his phone, realizing his error as his cheeks grow even pinker. “To decide. Where we go.” 

“Hmm, is that so?” Jungkook purrs. The deep tone of his voice is unexpected, and it brings heat nipping at Jimin’s chest and up his face. 

“I–” 

Jimin lets out an audible gasp when Jungkook’s firm grip on his waist pushes him backward. 

“You want me ?” 

Jimin is sober enough to feel nervous looking at Jungkook in his darkened eyes, so he settles for Jungkook’s tongue poking just outside of the corner of his mouth. 

Jungkook smirks. “I can make a decision for you.” 

His lips are soft as they drag against Jimin’s. Jimin suddenly feels hyper-aware of his lack of chapstick, having left it in the jacket he chose not to wear out. As Jungkook squeezes Jimin's hips and shoves him against the wall, Jimin pushes the thought from his mind as quickly as it came.

Jungkook moves with a commanding sense of power that has Jimin easily malleable in his hands. Jimin gasps against Jungkook’s mouth when he feels the firmness of his chest beneath his fingers. Maybe it’s the drugs or the alcohol, or simply Jungkook , but Jimin’s brain splinters and shatters when he shifts his body, causing his thigh to brush against Jungkook's. And that’s when the reality of the situation hits him. 

Jungkook is hard. 

Fuck.

Jungkook’s teeth dig into Jimin’s bottom lip when he pulls away. He’s sure his mouth is now shiny and pink like Jungkook’s. It’s all Jimin can focus on as he attempts to blink away the dizzy feeling in his brain. 

Jungkook has one hand pressed against the wall beside Jimin’s head, the other squeezing his hip. Something about being caged in, the heat of Jungkook’s body burning against his, makes Jimin feel small. He doesn’t want to think about why he likes it. 

“I’ll get us a ride, okay, Jimin-ah?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes the only word he can get out, widened eyes scanning Jungkook’s face, too shocked to be embarrassed by how his chest is erratically rising and falling. He immediately lets go of Jungkook’s shirt after holding on so tightly his knuckles ache. He watches Jungkook pull up the app on his phone and struggles to keep his mind from wandering into the darkness that is Jungkook’s eyes on him every time he looks up. 

They burn into Jimin’s core.

How the fuck did they end up here? 

“You’re shaking.” Jungkook smirks as he leans in to rest his chin on Jimin’s shoulder as Jimin struggles to unlock his apartment door. “Do I make you nervous, Jiminie?” 

Jimin is barely holding it together with Jungkook’s cheek brushing against his neck. He flip-flops between wanting to pull away and wanting to lean further into him.

“I don’t get nervous,” Jimin says. 

The statement is flat, and nowhere near as convincing as Jimin hopes. Maybe even laughable, with his pink face and his heart pounding in his throat. It doesn’t help that his fingers fumble so terribly with his keys that he drops them and has to quickly bend down to scoop them up.

Finally getting the door unlocked, Jimin kicks off his sneakers (proper house etiquette present even when fucked up) and turns a bit too quickly on his heel. His socks slip against the wooden floor as he wobbles to stay upright.

“What’s up?” Jungkook’s voice is filled with amusement, and his eyes are bright despite being bloodshot. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re not real?” Jimin stares at Jungkook, unable to pull himself out of the darkness of his pupils. He asks the next question quietly, just like the first, muted enough for only Jungkook to hear. But there is only Jungkook. “Or like you were meant to be someone else?”

Before Jungkook answers, Jimin brings his free hand against the back of Jungkook’s head to pull him into another kiss, this one harder and heavy with the weight of knowing he shouldn't be doing this.

A broken, pathetic whimper comes from somewhere inside Jimin when Jungkook grinds his hips into his, making their cocks drag against each other through their pants. The feeling is unlike anything Jimin has ever experienced. Kissing Jungkook is safe; Jimin can pretend he’s kissing anyone. But to feel Jungkook’s cock hard against his own, shifting to press against his thigh, then moving back again… There’s no denying what he’s doing, and there’s no denying who he’s doing it with.  

Reaching between their bodies, Jungkook rubs his hand over the bulge in Jimin’s jeans and another whimper escapes Jimin’s lips. The sound is so loud and pathetic that it startles him, but Jungkook seems to love it. 

“What was that, Jiminie?” Jungkook asks with a smirk. 

Heavy panting is all the response Jungkook is going to get from Jimin, especially when his other hand drops to unbutton Jimin’s jeans. The pressure of Jungkook pulling his zipper sends dull shocks of electricity through Jimin’s cock, making it twitch uncontrollably. He’s never been harder in his entire life, and he hates it. 

Does he hate it? Jungkook is so…

“You’re so fucking hot.” 

Jungkook verbalizes what Jimin can’t. Then he does exactly what Jimin is scared of: he curls those cute little fingers around the edge of Jimin’s jeans and tugs. 

“Mmm, hyung , why have you been hiding such a beautiful cock from me?” 

Jimin feels his face burn with heat so searing he thinks he might pass out. 

Jungkook presses his thumb against Jimin’s slit to smear the beads of precum around the tip. The gentle massage is enough to make Jimin buck forward. 

“Fuck,” Jimin whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“You’ve never done this before, have you, hyung?” Jungkook’s breath is hot against his ear. The deep chuckle that punctuates his question hints at the devious smirk he wears. “Never had another man touch you.” 

Jungkook clenches Jimin's cock. He’s leaking so much that working up a steady rhythm is easy. Jungkook drags his fingers through Jimin's hair with his free hand, pushing his bangs up and securing a solid hold on the soft strands. He tugs hard until a moan tumbles from Jimin’s pretty lips. 

“Not going to answer me?” 

Shame burns into Jimin’s cheeks and mixes with the unfortunately undeniable lust wreaking havoc on his body. “No, I’ve-I’ve, n-never–” Jimin moans, shocked to hear his voice come out with so much need. 

Jungkook hums with a bite of his bottom lip, eyes twinkling. “So I’m special .” 

Jimin tries to nod, but Jungkook’s fingers are still tight in his hair.

“You have such a pretty cock. So soft and heavy, with such a cute little curve, hm?” Jungkook swipes his thumb over Jimin’s tip as another bead of precum dribbles out. Then, with the liquid smeared on the digit, Jungkook locks eyes with Jimin as he sticks out his flattened tongue and presses his thumb against it. “Taste good, too, baby.” 

Jungkook tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. He keeps his eyes trained on Jimin but allows his body to sink slowly until he is on his knees in between Jimin’s legs. 

“Wanna choke on your cock. Will you let me? I promise I’ll do it better than those boring girls you’re always bringing home.”

"Jungkook," Jimin whines as he squeezes the base of his cock. 

He parts his lips slightly and drags the head of Jimin’s cock over his mouth, rubbing his precum like lip balm. When he seems to have enough, Jungkook lets Jimin’s cock rest on his face as he laps his tongue at the underside. Occasionally, he drops further to suckle Jimin’s balls, tonguing the smooth skin. In everything he does, Jungkook maintains eye contact with Jimin. His normally sparkly eyes are dark and lidded; the expression makes Jimin’s cock throb harder. 

“Yeah, hyung? Want your cock in my mouth?” Jungkook teases. “I want to hear you say it. Ask me to ruin you like a good boy, okay?” 

Waiting for his response, Jungkook swirls his tongue around the tip of Jimin's cock. 

"Oh god," Jimin sobs. He reaches down to dig his fingers into Jungkook's shoulders and tries not to buck his hips into his face. His mind is screaming at him to relax, to think this all through because every ounce of this interaction feels laced with the promise of regret. But his mouth is speaking before his brain can keep up. "I want it." 

Sliding his hands up Jimin’s thighs, Jungkook grabs his ass cheeks and pulls his body flush against his own. In one swift motion, Jungkook swallows Jimin until the head of his cock rams against the back of his throat. His moans make pleasure ripple through Jimin’s abdomen.

Jimin’s legs shake and he grabs Jungkook’s shoulders to steady himself. “I’m- I’m…” 

Jungkook's jaw goes slack as Jimin gasps, feeling his nose press into his abdomen. No one has ever taken Jimin all the way like that before. Jimin can feel Jungkook swallowing around him, constricting and relaxing his throat muscles while humming against him. Jungkook's tongue against the underside of Jimin's cock has Jimin bucking forward. 

Instead of pulling away and scolding him as Jimin expected, Jungkook tightens his grip on Jimin's ass, rocking his body forward and forcing himself to gag.   

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jungkook.” A weak moan is the only warning that Jimin was quickly spiraling.

Colors blossom and then burst behind Jimin’s eyelids as he shoots his release down Jungkook’s throat. Every swallow further milks more of his cum until his cock is so sensitive that the head hitting the back of Jungkook’s throat makes Jimin tremble violently. 

“Jungkook, please,” Jimin lets out a strangled moan and weakly pushes Jungkook away from him by his shoulders. 

“Shit,” Jungkook groans once he sits back and stares up at Jimin with glassy eyes. “I wanna fuck you so bad.” 

Fear dances with desire in Jimin’s chest, stirring up his heart until it’s beating through his ribcage.

“I… I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not… not yet.” 

The disappointed look on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin’s heart shrivel up.  

“Okay,” Jungkook says softly, his expression eventually growing into a small smile. “That’s okay.”

The only sound in the room is Jimin’s heavy breathing as he attempts to calm himself down. 

After a moment, Jungkook stands up. He catches sight of himself in the mirror hanging in the hallway. If he wasn’t already struggling to breathe, Jimin would have had difficulty inhaling as he watches Jungkook smooth his hair and adjust how his jeans fit against his crotch. 

Jimin can’t know what Jungkook is thinking, but he thinks Jungkook looks beautiful.

“I’m sorry.”

Holding the side of Jimin’s face, Jungkook kisses away whatever other apologies he has lined up on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t apologize,” he murmurs against Jimin’s lips, providing just enough time for them to breathe before diving in again. 

Jimin thinks he likes the way he tastes on Jungkook’s tongue.

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@rkiveslibrary

[jung-koook]

his hairstyle!!! he's so gorgeous ♡ (cr. @taee)

[gimmethatagustd]

boystown lovers | kth + myg

It’s Taehyung’s first Pride since coming out, and Yoongi is determined to make sure he has the time of his life.

Relationship: Bisexual Taehyung x Trans/Genderfluid Yoongi

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Pride, Established Relationship, Self-Esteem, Shy Taehyung, Confident Yoongi, Sexuality, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, PWP

Word Count: 4,523

A/N: I wrote this for Pride and posted on AO3 for Yoongi Freedom Day~ As a note, I use a mix of traditionally masc and fem language to describe Yoongi. OG readers might recognize this fic as a rewrite~

Taehyung sits on the edge of Yoongi’s bed with his legs spread wide enough for Yoongi to stand between them. His hands rest on his knees, occasionally reaching out so his long fingers can trace patterns into the exposed skin of Yoongi’s thighs. Despite the gentleness of Taehyung’s movements, Yoongi can tell that he’s nervous by the way he avoids his gaze. Although Taehyung knows prolonged direct eye contact bothers Yoongi sometimes, this isn’t one of those moments of him being considerate.

Yoongi doesn’t believe in dating people to “fix” them, but there are certain aspects of Taehyung that he wants to help him with—Taehyung’s confidence being a top priority.

“I’m not sure this will turn out any good,” Taehyung murmurs, eyes darting toward the floor as Yoongi lifts his chin towards him. 

“Do you think I won’t do a good job?” Yoongi asks with a small pout, a bit hurt over Taehyung’s lack of faith in him, though he’s sure Taehyung doesn’t mean it like that. “I think my skills are pretty fantastic. Now close your eyes, please.” 

Taehyung complies immediately, but Yoongi hesitates.

Taehyung’s skin is so tan and smooth, and it sparkles from the glittery pink blush Yoongi has dusted across on his cheeks. Yoongi has already applied the lightest of pink lipstick on Taehyung’s pouty lips to match, and now he’s preparing to add purple eyeliner to his soft look. Taehyung has never worn makeup before, which was unsurprising for Yoongi to discover. It took a bit of convincing (lots of pouting and threatening) to get him to cooperate. Now, Yoongi has the honor of taking in the softness of his face beneath makeup that accentuates his beautiful features rather than masks them.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter slightly beneath his eyelids and he cocks his head to one side after he realizes Yoongi still hasn’t done anything. 

“Hyung?”

“You’re so pretty…” Yoongi admits softly. He has overused the compliment, but he earns a boxy smile from his boyfriend every time he gives it. 

“Not as pretty as you.” 

“Shhh,” Yoongi hushes him. He adds the finishing touches to Taehyung’s makeup and takes a step back to admire his work. “Jagi, get up so I can look at your outfit.” 

Taehyung stands with straight limbs and a stern frown that pulls his pouty lips down. Yes, the outfit Yoongi put him in is… different from his usual aesthetic, but as he’d explained a million times, Pride is Taehyung’s opportunity to experiment in an environment that won’t make him stand out. Yoongi would know; the idea of standing out is usually his worst nightmare.

“It seems like a lot of… skin.” Taehyung pulls at the rainbow tie-dye muscle shirt he’s wearing and gestures to his hot pink shorts. 

“Tae, it’s so hot outside. You cannot go to Pride Fest wearing an over-sized hoodie and thick, baggy jeans.” Yoongi crosses his arms against his chest and gives Taehyung a once-over. “At least I didn’t make you wear the mesh crop top, right?” 

Taehyung visibly shudders. “Right.” 

Yoongi swallows a smile as he watches Taehyung continue to mess with his outfit. It has taken Yoongi a long time to become comfortable with his gender expression; hell, sometimes he feels like he’s having a gender identity crisis daily. But overall, he feels comfortable being whoever he wants to be in the moment, even if it changes from day to day.

Now, being able to help Taehyung figure things out is a new adventure Yoongi is eager to begin. 

The adventure starts on the train to downtown, where the Pride festival takes place. Yoongi sits with his fingers interlaced with Taehyung’s, their hands resting in Taehyung’s lap. Typical train rides into the city consist of quiet small talk between the two. But today is different. Taehyung’s eyes are wide, fixed on the passengers boarding and getting off of the train. 

One group of train riders in particular steals Taehyung’s attention. Yoongi follows his gaze to see a group of scantily clad men. Most of them wear tight leather shorts or jockstraps, and leather harnesses or mesh crop tops like the one Yoongi tried to push on Taehyung. The men are all muscles and obvious dick prints.

Yoongi watches Taehyung’s eyes devour the men, searching every inch of their outfits and physiques.

“Tae.” 

Taehyung blinks, ripping his eyes from the men to look at Yoongi. Even though his cheeks are already pink from makeup, Yoongi can see a bit more color spread across his face. His eyes widened like a little kid who’s been caught doing something bad. 

“Yeah?” 

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi gives him a sly smile, raising his eyebrows and ever so slightly nodding toward the group.

“Is that how I’m supposed to dress?” 

“No,”—Yoongi’s gummy smile slowly fades into a slight frown—“the only thing you’re supposed to do is have fun. There’s no gay dress code or something. What I said early about how you dress was about the weather, not any kind of unspoken rules.” 

Taehyung nods, his eyes slowly returning to the group of men. Two of them are making out, their bodies pressed together. Lots of tongue. Perhaps a dick grab or two. Taehyung fidgets in his seat, but he doesn’t look away.

Maybe it should bother Yoongi that his boyfriend is ogling other people, especially in such a sexual context, but it only makes him more excited about the day. 

He leans into Taehyung’s ear, speaking low enough that only they can hear each other over the train’s rumbling. 

“But you’d look really hot in a leather harness and a jockstrap.” Yoongi pulls away with a wink and a smug smirk, knowing he’s flustering Taehyung beyond belief. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that lately Taehyung works out more often. It isn’t a coincidence that Yoongi chose a muscle tank shirt for his outfit.

Taehyung’s breath hitches, a quiet puff of air escaping his lips before Yoongi grabs his hand, pulling him along. “This is our stop!” 

Yoongi’s favorite gay bar is understandably packed, but its outdoor patio provides more breathing room and space to spread out. It’s on the corner of the street, which means it has the perfect view of the Pride parade that will march through the street soon. 

Yoongi sits across from Taehyung at the patio table closest to the sidewalk, sipping on a fruity cocktail he let Taehyung order for him. He hisses at the sweetness of the drink. Getting Yoongi to accept a fruit drink probably felt as challenging as persuading Taehyung to wear revealing clothing. 

“Whiskey is not a Pride drink, hyung,” Taehyung insists, slapping his hand down on the table. He’s being silly, mocking. He has no idea what he’s talking about. Yoongi finds it adorable.

“Why not? I think it should be.”

The waiter stands at their table with an amused look on his face as he watches the two bicker over alcohol. He, like most of the waiters, wears a leather harness that makes his muscular pecs pop, and his ass nearly busts out of the tiniest metallic silver booty shorts Yoongi has ever seen in his life.

Taehyung does a terrible job of hiding the way his eyes immediately shoot down to look at the very clear bulge in the guy’s shorts. 

If that interaction hasn’t completely rocked Taehyung’s world, Yoongi tries hard not to laugh at how Taehyung’s eyes bug out of his head when the shots girl comes around to their table. She’s wearing nothing on top except for sparkly, heart-shaped pasties to cover her nipples, and she’s carrying a handful of plastic penises—one of which she offers to Taehyung. 

“Want a shot? They’re five bucks and you get to keep the dick,” she says with a wink. 

Taehyung’s mouth falls open, his head slowly turning to face Yoongi with a question in his eyes. 

“It’s like a water gun. You push the pump on the bottom and the alcohol comes out of the tip.” Yoongi presses the butt of his palm against his mouth to stop from laughing. How can Taehyung be so naïve? Yoongi already knew he’d had relationships with men in the past, so why is he acting brand new?

Never did Yoongi have to live “in the closet”. It’s been hard for him to imagine what being in a queer relationship is like without having the freedom to engage in all the fun that comes with being part of the queer community. 

“We’ll take one,” Yoongi finally says, passing the shot girl the money. He picks out a bright purple plastic penis, admiring the fairly realistic veins and curve of the head. “Do you think it’s cute?” Yoongi waggles the dick in front of Taehyung’s face.

“You are so immature.” Taehyung returns to sipping on his fruity drink, nose scrunched. “I don’t have the patience for your childish delinquency.” 

“Is that really how you feel?” Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at him before lifting the plastic dick to his mouth. He sticks his tongue out and slowly rolls it around the head. Locking eyes with Taehyung, he inches the plastic dick further into his mouth, pressing the head against the inside of his cheek to create a bulge.

Taehyung’s lips part slightly and he looks like a dumb little baby with his mouth hanging open as he watches Yoongi slowly squirt the vodka. Yoongi tightens his lips around the head to make sure he sucks up all the alcohol, a bit of the vodka dribbling down his chin. 

“Oops,”—Yoongi giggles, wiping his face—“you know how messy I can get, right, jagi?” 

By this point, Taehyung leans forward, crossing his arms on the table. Yoongi leans in as well, making the gap between the two of them smaller. Now that Taehyung’s closer, Yoongi can see the perspiration accumulating on his forehead beneath his fluffy, blue bangs. It’s definitely hot outside and there’s little shade on the bar patio. But Yoongi highly doubts the mid-June sun is the only reason Taehyung’s sweating. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Taehyung’s voice drops low, and the tightness of his tone says more than any words can. 

“What are you gonna do about it, jagi? Punish me?”

They both know Yoongi is the one who hands out punishments in this relationship. There’s nothing prettier than having Taehyung grovel at his feet. That he would try to dominate Yoongi is laughable. 

Taehyung sucks the rest of his drink down, his sharp eyes flicking up to find a waiter, clearly avoiding Yoongi’s gaze. “Maybe.” 

“Oh, I think you need some more alcohol in you,”—Yoongi speaks with a gummy smile, knowing it will annoy Taehyung further—“before you start talking crazy like that.” 

Taehyung ignores Yoongi, instead focusing his attention on ordering another round of drinks for them. Taehyung is already one drink and one shot in. Considering Taehyung doesn’t drink often, Yoongi is sure that he’s feeling the alcohol by now.

The heat only makes it worse. When their drinks arrive, Taehyung presses the cool glass against his cheek. 

“How are you so annoying, yet so cute?” Yoongi muses aloud. 

“You love my annoying ass.” A tongue stuck out in his direction. 

“That I do.” 

Though Yoongi loves Taehyung’s boxy smile, there’s something particularly attractive about the small smiles he gives him, the toothless ones that still meet his eyes and make his cheeks go puffy. It’s absolutely adorable. 

Interrupting Yoongi’s soft thoughts about Taehyung, loud music blasts from the patio speakers. It’s easy to get lost in the little world he and Taehyung have created for each other, completely oblivious to everything else. 

“What’s happening?” Taehyung asks with raised eyebrows.

As if to answer Taehyung’s question personally, a bar employee appears near the patio entrance with a microphone. 

“I hope you queers are having a fan-fucking-tastic Pride! I’m Georgie, your resident DJ and bubble butt extraordinaire, and I’m sooo excited to be MCing our fourth annual Pride Fest Drag Show!” 

The crowd of bar customers cheer at their respective tables, including a few hoots as the employee wiggles his butt to the music. 

“I’ve never seen a drag show before,” Taehyung mumbles around his straw. Yoongi, however, has been to countless drag shows. He even performed in an amateur one just for fun with a few of his friends when he was in college. 

“So please get ready to sweat and make it rain for our first queen,” Georgie continues, “the one and only, Miss Mochi!”

As Georgie disappears, the music switches to an upbeat pop song. Possibly the most gorgeous drag queen Yoongi has ever seen takes position in the center of the patio. Her long blonde hair and dramatic yet soft makeup automatically makes her features stand out. She twirls for the crowd, showing off extravagant lingerie, complete with white angel wings and fake tits that look even better than Yoongi’s when they aren’t bound tight to his chest. 

“Oh shit, I know her,” Yoongi remarks casually, his gaze shifting between Miss Mochi’s dancing and Taehyung, who is entranced by the queen. Yoongi can’t blame him; Miss Mochi is known locally for having the most seductive dance routines. While other drag queens are often goofy, Miss Mochi has the technical skills and fluidity of a true dancer. 

“Miss Mochi?” Taehyung’s eyes follow the queen as she makes her way around the patio, every body roll and shake of her firm ass only pulling him in further.

“Her real name is Jimin,” Yoongi says, speaking just above the music. “We went to college together. Probably doesn’t remember me, though.” 

Eventually, Miss Mochi ends up at a table near theirs, stopping to run her manicured fingers down the length of a seated man’s jaw as he slips a twenty-dollar bill under the thin band of her thong.

Taehyung gives Yoongi a sideways look. “Are drag shows always like this?” 

Done with teasing the man to the left, Miss Mochi dances her way along the patio until she reaches their table. Now that she’s closer, Yoongi notices the men’s tie in her hand, which she uses as a dance prop as the soundtrack transitions to another classic, “S&M” by Rihanna. 

“Well hello, daddy,” Miss Mochi purrs, looping the tie around Taehyung’s neck in one swift motion.

Yoongi has to hide his laughter with the back of his hand, desperately trying to stop himself from cackling at the look on Taehyung’s face as Miss Mochi addresses him. He’s got those wide eyes once again, his pouty lips falling open.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Miss Mochi flips her hair to the side and body rolls herself into Taehyung’s lap, grinding her ass directly onto his crotch.

With pure panic on his face, Taehyung looks over at Yoongi. But Yoongi is of no help. No, he’s full-on giggling now, unable to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

The entire patio hollers with excitement as Miss Mochi puts in work on Taehyung. There’s no denying it; the whole thing is hot. Miss Mochi clutches holds onto Taehyung’s thighs as she rolls her hips, grinding circles against him, and all he can do is sit back and watch. Yoongi feels a spark of heat shoot down to his core when Taehyung’s tongue slips out to wet his bottom lip.

Though the lap dance only lasts a moment, it’s enough to leave Taehyung shy. He runs his hand along the back of his neck and ducks his head, cheeks puffy with the weird, lipped smile he wears when he’s embarrassed, as Miss Mochi finally lifts herself from his lap. 

“Don’t worry, babe, it happens to everyone,” Miss Mochi coos, probably realizing how nervous Taehyung is. “Might want to get someone to help you out with that, though.” She flashes Taehyung a wink as she moves past their table, but not before Yoongi hands her a tip.  

The audience quickly follows Miss Mochi, but Yoongi’s attention locks onto Taehyung. “Help you with what?” 

Taehyung opens his mouth and then closes it again.

“Help you with what?” 

“I…” Taehyung’s eyes drop to his lap.

Although Yoongi can’t see anything because the table blocks his view, Taehyung’s inability to speak and his subtle body language gives him an idea. 

“Ohhh, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s gummy smile returns. He grips the edge of the table to steady himself. “Are you hard right now?” 

The bluntness of his question takes Taehyung by surprise. 

“It’s fine,” he says after a moment, scooting closer to the table to prevent anyone from seeing his crotch. But that’s not what Yoongi wants to hear. 

“Is it, though?” Yoongi reaches under the table to grab Taehyung’s knee, causing him to jump slightly. “You have to spend the rest of the day out here, surrounded by so many new, exciting surprises. Do you really want to be uncomfortable? I know you’re uncomfortable.” 

Taehyung chews on his bottom lip, his eyes heavy and glossy from drinking. Yoongi isn’t sure how much convincing it may take to get Taehyung to let him suck him off in public, but the throbbing in his body is enough to make him try. 

“Come on, daddy,” Yoongi repeats the pet name Miss Mochi had given Taehyung. The way Taehyung hollows his cheeks and glowers tells Yoongi that he’s got him right where he wants him. Taehyung always looks so stern when he gets horny. 

“I told you to stop teasing me like that,” Taehyung mutters. 

“Is it teasing if I’m gonna give you what you want?” 

There’s that pouty frown again, like the baby he is.

With a grin, Yoongi stands, squeezing Taehyung’s hand as he pulls him up, too. “Oh, wow.” He stares down at Taehyung’s crotch, the outline of his hard cock stark in the tight little shorts he dressed him in.

Taehyung glances at Yoongi with a familiar look of horror. It’s cute how he can so easily flip from being sensual to panicking.

Yoongi quickly drags him inside the bar and weaves through the crowd until they make it to the restrooms. “Fuck me,” he grumbles, yanking down on both door handles to find them locked. 

Ignoring whatever babbling Taehyung is doing, trying to tell Yoongi to let it go and that he’ll be fine, Yoongi’s eyes fall on a door marked for employees only. Checking over his shoulder, he swings the door open and shoves Taehyung inside, quickly locking it behind them. 

“We are not supposed to be in here,” Taehyung whispers, untangling his arms from a bunch of mops and brooms propped in what is apparently a janitor’s closet. His protests are weak, and he watches with bated breath as Yoongi drops to his knees.

Yoongi’s nimble fingers quickly tug Taehyung’s shorts down, finally setting his cock free from the torturous confines he’d placed it in. Yoongi has to admit, the shorts are cute, but they’re definitely tight. 

“It’s Pride Month. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” It’s funny; Yoongi is normally the rule-follower. Pride changes something in him.

Mimicking what he’d done to the plastic dick, Yoongi swirls his tongue around the head, flicking lightly over Taehyung’s slit to taste the precum already leaking from him. He runs the tip of his tongue along the length of his cock, tracing each prominent vein.

Taehyung lets out a shuddered breath, his hands quickly gripping Yoongi’s head, but he knows not to force him even when Yoongi continues to tease him with his tongue. 

“Please,” Taehyung begs, perspiration accumulating on his forehead once again despite being in the air conditioning. “I’m so hard it hurts, please, hyung.” 

Yoongi sits back for a moment to look up at Taehyung, admiring the way desperation twists his mouth and makes his jaw set tight. “I thought you said you were fine?” 

“I lied, okay? I lied. Just, please, stop teasing me.” 

God, Yoongi loves it when Taehyung whines. 

“Only because you said please.” Yoongi smiles, gummy and smug, before taking Taehyung completely into his mouth.

Taehyung’s strangled moan rumbles through the closet, and Yoongi struggles to stop himself from gagging as a funny thought enters his head: here they are, two queers, having sex in a closet. During Pride Month, no less! 

Getting past that minor mental disruption, Yoongi easily falls into a consistent rhythm of bobbing his head, humming every time he feels Taehyung’s cock hit the back of his throat.

Taehyung strokes Yoongi’s hair as he swallows him down, gathering the long strands into a ponytail to hold on to. Legs shaking. Trying not to go weak in the knees when Yoongi’s nose presses against his abdomen. 

“Fuck…” Taehyung hisses. Looking down, he notices Yoongi’s hand disappear into his shorts, middle finger extended to rub light circles against his clit. If Taehyung is going to have fun, Yoongi is, too. 

Taehyung draws his bottom lip between his teeth and slowly pulls away, taking a half-step back. “Hyung, let me fuck you.” 

This time it’s Yoongi’s turn to be surprised. “Here? Now?” 

Taehyung wanting to fuck Yoongi in an unfamiliar public place? Who the hell was he? 

He motions for Yoongi to stand up, and Yoongi’s knees appreciate no longer having to dig into the concrete floor. Taehyung kisses him hard, swirling his tongue around the inside of his mouth as though he’s gathering up the taste of himself. Then he roughly turns Yoongi around to press his chest against Yoongi’s back. 

“I didn’t realize men in drag was going to have you feeling some type of way,” Yoongi breathes, watching Taehyung’s hands shimmy his shorts down his thighs until his pussy is exposed. The feeling of Taehyung’s fingers swiping through Yoongi’s wet folds from behind sends his head reeling.

“Me either,” Taehyung admits with a soft laugh that’s more deceitful than it is cute, because at that moment he thrusts two long fingers inside of Yoongi. “How can you make fun of me when you’re already so wet?” 

“Are you really compl—” Yoongi inhales sharply as Taehyung massages his g-spot. “Are you really complaining about me wanting to have sex with you?” 

Taehyung rolls his hips against Yoongi as he thrusts his fingers, his cock slicking up as it slides against his pussy. The movement pushes Yoongi forward, and Yoongi presses his hands into the wall in front of him to hold himself up. They’re truly making it work in such a cramped space. 

“I’m not complaining.” Taehyung nuzzles Yoongi’s neck, giving him a gentle kiss as he drags his fingers out of him. Wet with Yoongi’s arousal, Taehyung brings his fingers to Yoongi’s lips. “I’m very appreciative of you.”

“You’re supposed to be the adventurous one, captain.” Yoongi opens his mouth to suck Taehyung’s fingers clean.

“Just learning new things from my hyung,” Taehyung murmurs with his fingers still hooked in the corner of Yoongi’s cheek. “People would be shocked to know how dirty you are.”

Smooth and slow, Taehyung lines up with Yoongi’s hole, gradually sinking his cock inside of him. Both of them being half-clothed makes their movements awkward, but Taehyung still manages a slow, sensual stroke that makes Yoongi’s legs shake and his heart launch into his throat. 

They’re lucky Taehyung’s fingers are still occupying Yoongi’s mouth to muffle the moan that would’ve been loud enough to get them caught. What comes out instead is a low groan, and a garbled attempt at saying Taehyung’s name. None of it matters, though. Yoongi’s brain is hazy. Not a single thought passes through his mind except for Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung… 

“I’m sorry I didn’t suck you off,” Taehyung whispers into Yoongi’s ear. He slides his free hand forward to squeeze in between Yoongi’s thighs and stroke circles against his clit as he continues fucking him. “I know better than to leave my hyung’s cock neglected.”

How badly does Yoongi have Taehyung wrapped around his finger that he’s apologizing for that? 

“But I’ll do it all night when we get home.” 

Yoongi lets out a small whimper, and Taehyung finally removes his fingers from his mouth. 

“What the fuck, Taehyung,” Yoongi exhales, pressing further into the wall. He tries to turn to look back as Taehyung pounds into him, jiggling his head around so his line of sight is blurred. Yoongi doesn’t even attempt to keep his head up; the alcohol, paired with the heat of Taehyung sliding in and out of him, is further turning his brain into a scrambled mess. 

“What?” 

Taehyung presses his hand against Yoongi’s waist to hold him in place as he continues to play with Yoongi’s cock. From how his thighs tense, trapping Taehyung’s hand between them, they both know that means he’s getting close. At this point in their relationship, Taehyung is a pro at working Yoongi’s body. He’s a master at quickies, not because he can’t last long, but because he knows how to efficiently get Yoongi to where he needs to be. 

All because Yoongi trained him well, of course.

Yoongi shakes his head, letting it hang as he holds onto the wall for dear life once that sweet, hot spring in him finally snaps. He struggles to keep quiet while Taehyung fucks him through his orgasm, his walls spasming and legs quaking. 

“You’re… you’re…” Yoongi doesn’t know where his thoughts are going, a train barreling off course. Just closes his eyes and falls back against Taehyung’s chest.

“I’m so lucky to have you, hyung.”  

Taehyung holds Yoongi up as he chases his own high, murmuring sweet sounds into his ear until he’s coming, too. It’s sticky and sweaty, how they hold on to each other as Yoongi calms his breathing, but neither of them cares.

“You know what I was thinking earlier?” Yoongi watches Taehyung struggle to pull his tight shorts back over his ass once they’ve both cooled down. “I was thinking that we just fucked in a closet during Pride Month.” 

Taehyung pauses his movements to look at Yoongi, the tiniest of smirks lifting the corner of his mouth. “That’s so problematic of us.” 

“Just means we have to be extra gay to make up for it.” Yoongi wiggles his eyebrows at Taehyung’s confusion. “Let me peg you?” 

“Really?” Those wide eyes are back. 

Suddenly, the door handle to the closet jiggles. Yoongi and Taehyung exchange a quick, worried glance as the door bursts open, bright light stabbing at their eyes. The employee on the other side of the doorway lets out a high-pitched shriek, startled by the unexpected sight of people inside the locked closet. 

“Happy Pride!” Taehyung shouts as they slip out of the closet, throwing the employee a peace sign.

Laughing, Yoongi links arms with Taehyung. He appreciates the adrenaline pumping through him; it’s just enough to mask the horror he’s going to feel later, when he’s back home and the introverted side of him reflects on the day.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yoongi says as he checks over his shoulder to see if the employee has run after them. “I think that sex store off Sheridan is calling our names. Get strapped up, right, jagi?” 

Taehyung’s wide eyes do all the talking. 

[lunalulola]

This is a fic I recommend for those ARMY's who are looking to join Pride or are new to the community in 2026!!

Beautifully written if you asked me.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH❤️💙💛💚💜🩵🧡🩷🖤🤍🩶

[gimmethatagustd]

AWWW HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! this is so sweet, thank you! i hope everyone finds community this pride~ i will adopt any baby boragays

[niwisdoodles]

TaeTae warmup

[niwisdoodles]

I purple you

[niwisdoodles]

more vmin because i love them too much. i just wanted to draw them in onesies and just being cute in general.

(I really appreciate likes but reblogs help me reach more people)