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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