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You Can Do No Wrong (In My Eyes)

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It’s late. Or early; that strange, blue, in-between hour where the streets are quiet and it is neither night or morning. Jungkook wakes to blue light through the bedroom window, disoriented from sleep. He can see his shirt crumpled in a heap on the floor, feels the weight of Yoongi’s body next to him. They’re barely touching, just close enough for Jungkook to feel his body heat. Carefully, he sits up, taking stock of himself. 

He wouldn’t say he regrets last night. He knows Yoongi and their group’s dynamic well enough to know this won’t affect their careers at all. But he stares at Yoongi’s sleeping form, the lack of stress in his expression, and feels something...more. Or less. It’s like he’s been drained, and no goodnight kiss or sleepy aftercare can refill him. What has he given away? What has he taken on? 

Without really thinking, Jungkook slips out from under the sheets and walks out the bedroom door. The older rapper doesn’t stir on the bed. Once Yoongi’s heat is gone from his side, it’s hard to imagine that it was there at all. Slipping on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, Jungkook heads down the hall with no real destination. He loves his hyung. In the blue hours of morning, he wraps his arms around himself and thinks about love. About helping someone any way you can. About how much the power dynamic of last night turned him on. 

“Jungkook?” A quiet question from behind him. He turns to see Jimin poking his head out of his room’s door. His hair is sleep-mussed, but his eyes are bright. 

“What’re you doing awake?” Jungkook asks. He knows he must look like some animal caught in the headlights: caught off-guard by being seen, wide-eyed, belonging to some other time and place. Jimin shrugs, steps further into the hallway. 

“I woke up and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I’ve been up for a bit. What about you?”

“I…” Jungkook’s not sure how to respond. Jimin seems to gather that Jungkook’s a little frazzled. He glances back towards his room. 

“Namjoon went to sleep in his room, so my room’s empty, if you wanted to talk.” He gestures towards the half-open door. Jungkook’s not sure of himself, of the half-invitation Jimin has offered. But where else is there to go? Maybe he does need to talk to someone. 

“Okay,” Jungkook nods, following Jimin into the room. Jimin’s lamp is on, casting a yellow glow on the room from the desk where it slumps. It’s such a difference from the cold, lonely sunrise from the hall. Jimin takes a seat on his bed, crossing his legs underneath him. With a second of hesitation, Jungkook follows suit. 

“What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ah?” Jimin’s had sex before, lots more than Jungkook probably. Hell, he had sex with Namjoon on this very bed just a few hours before. Jimin will help, right? 

“I...I had sex with Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook says into the yellow quiet of the room, so different from the blue silence of Yoongi’s room. Jimin nods. He knew this already. Jungkook blushes, realizing everyone probably knows; there are very little secrets among them. But Jimin isn’t saying anything, so he takes a breath to continue. 

“I said I wanted to help, and I did. But, he treated me like I was just there to - like I was just there for his pleasure. He wasn’t gentle like usual, he pushed me around and - it’s like he didn’t care about who he was fucking.” Jungkook swallows thickly. Jimin’s looking at him with an unreadable expression, his brows furrowed. “It was good. I mean, I liked it. I liked it a lot.” He looks at Jimin, bordering on desperation. 

“I liked it, Jimin. I liked that Yoongi ignored me. What does that say about me?” Jimin doesn’t speak for a long moment. Jungkook’s skin prickles, but he doesn’t feel cold. 

“I think it makes you normal,” Jimin says at last. A pressure releases in Jungkook’s chest, one he wasn’t aware of until it disappeared. “I think you’d pop a boner over anything the hyungs did, to be honest, especially Yoongi-hyung.” There is no scorn in Jimin’s tone, just gentle teasing. Jungkook flushes and looks at the floor. 

“But,” Jimin continues, “I think you have a power imbalance kink. Or an objectification kink.”

“What does that mean?” Jungkook fiddles with the hem of his shirt. Something like “objectification” sounds serious, a heavy word to carry. Jungkook’s intimidated by something so...committing. 

“It means you like someone having power over you, Jungkookie,” Jimin hums, leaning back on his hands. “You like being useful, right?” Jungkook nods eagerly. “You like giving other people pleasure, more than what you receive?” 

“Yes, I do-” Jungkook cuts himself off, embarrassed. Jimin leans forward, encouraging him. Jungkook continues, quieter, warmer. “I liked it when he, he used me. To make himself feel good.” 

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Jimin sighs. He doesn’t sound disappointed in Jungkook, per say, but there’s enough of something in his tone to make Jungkook’s toes curl. Something that reminds him of last night, of Yoongi’s hushed, filthy words. 

Jimin scoots closer on the bed, close enough for Jungkook to be able to reach out and touch him, if he wanted. His toes curl again. He does want to touch, very much so.

If he’s being honest, he’s always been attracted to Jimin. Since their trainee days, he’s been painfully aware of Jimin’s abs, the softness to his face and stomach as the years have gone by. He’s watched Jimin grow up, grow more confident in himself and his body. There has always been a desire in him for Jimin, one that has changed but never left over the years. 

And if he’s being truly, truly honest, he has always been envious of Jimin. 

“I can show you,” Jimin murmurs, leaning even closer. Close enough for him to smell the shampoo Jimin probably used after sex with Namjoon. Jungkook sucks in a breath, but doesn’t move away. “Do you want me to show you what you might like?” 

“Yes.” Jungkook barely has to breathe his answer before Jimin is kissing him, a hand on the back of his neck. He’s kissed Jimin before, but this is different. Just like with Yoongi, Jimin is kissing him now like he is taking from Jungkook. 

But, there is something unique to the way Jimin kisses, as contrasted with Yoongi. Jimin takes, but he waits for Jungkook to give first. When Jungkook moans into the kiss, Jimin tightens his hand in his hair. When Jungkook opens his mouth, Jimin kisses back with tongue. When Jungkook shifts to lean back, Jimin takes initiative and moves Jungkook to lay flat against the bed. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin practically purrs from above him. Jungkook’s lips hang open as he pants and he’s sure he must look like a mess, but Jimin’s eyes are glowing down at him. “You’re so cute, you want it so bad.” Jungkook nods, silently begging Jimin for more. The emptiness in his chest is filling up with something warm, something hungry. 

“You’re kind of a slut, aren’t you,” Jimin wonders aloud, hands slipping deftly under Jungkook’s borrowed hoodie. Jungkook gasps, shakes under Jimin’s hands. That word keeps doing things to him. “You just want some attention, or maybe you don’t want any at all. You just want to be touched, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Jungkook whines, then yelps when Jimin pinches one of his nipples under his hoodie. 

“Did I say you could talk?” Jimin coos, hands continuing up Jungkook’s chest and pressing into his pecs. Jungkook bites his lip. Jimin leans down to kiss him once more, another harsh kiss Jungkook loses himself in. Jimin pulls back with a condescendingly sweet peck, pinching his other nipple and pulling another cry from Jungkook. He leans down, his lips brushing Jungkook’s ear. “You can say no anytime, but I have a feeling you like being pushed around.” 

“Okay,” Jungkook murmurs back. Jimin pulls back and smiles at him. Jungkook can see his eyes, and they study his face hungrily. Jimin helps pull Jungkook’s sweatshirt off his head, already toying with the waistband of his boxers. Jungkook remembers the faint memory of Yoongi putting those boxers on him last night, and shivers at the idea of Jimin taking them off him, of Jimin removing Yoongi’s claims and replacing them with his own. His hyung’s claims. 

“I wouldn’t p-” Jungkook chokes out, and Jimin pauses in his removal of Jungkook’s boxers. “I wouldn’t pop a boner over any - anything the hyungs did.” It takes a moment for Jimin to recall his earlier comment, but when he does, a slow smile spreads over his face. 

“No?” He yanks down Jungkook’s boxers, pushing apart Jungkook’s thighs in one smooth movement. “You’re telling me you haven’t gotten aroused when Joonie-hyung wears those tiny shorts of his and bends over? You’re saying you haven’t thought about Jin-hyung sucking your dick with those plush lips of his?” As he says this, he slowly but firmly jacks Jungkook off. Jungkook tries his hardest not to make too much noise. 

“I-I wouldn’t..ah!” Jungkook squeals as Jimin bends down to suck a dark mark into his collarbones. He jerks forward as Jimin sinks his teeth lightly over the marks Yoongi made the night before. 

“Really?” Jimin murmurs, soothing the growing bruises he’s made with possessive kisses. “You know good sluts don’t lie. You did whatever Yoongi-hyung wanted you to last night, didn’t you? Did you let him fuck you, Jungkookie?” Ever so sly, one of Jimin’s hands slips between Jungkook’s thighs to prod at his hole. 

“I did, I did, please-” Jungkook’s a little delirious, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he wants more of this pressure in his chest, of Jimin’s sticky sweet dominance. 

“You’re still loose,” Jimin remarks, almost bored as two of his fingers enter Jungkook. “I could probably fuck you right now. Would you like that? Fucked by two of your hyungs in one night?” Jungkook tosses his head back and forth, Jimin’s free hand keeping his hips pinned to the bed. 

“I want it,” Jungkook pants, “I want it, please.” Jimin pouts down at him, pulling the three fingers he had inside Jungkook out. 

“Why should I fuck you, hmm?” Jimin takes hold of Jungkook’s chin, smearing lube along his cheekbone. “You’re just a hungry little whore. You’ve already had one cock last night.” Jungkook stares at Jimin almost incredulously. The man above him is disparate from the Jimin that Jungkook knows from late night meals and early morning flights. Jungkook used to think Jimin was hot, attractive, even arousing. He never knew Jimin could be like this. This Jimin is pure sin. His words are melting Jungkook’s backbone, running down his spine and pooling in his gut. 

Jimin squeezes Jungkook’s chin and cheeks, staring dispassionately down at him. “Beg me for it.” The heat in Jungkook’s stomach sparks and ignites. Words spill out of his mouth unbidden. 

“Please fuck me, please Jimin-hyung, I can make it good. I’ll be so good, I’ll make it worth it please!” Jungkook can hardly believe the words he’s saying but he can’t find it in himself to be ashamed. Jimin hums in disinterest, pulling his cock through the slit in his sweats. He won’t even undress to fuck Jungkook, and god that’s hot. 

“What are you?” 

“I’m a slut!” Jungkook wails, gripping tight to the sheets as Jimin rolls a condom down his cock. “‘M just a slut, please fuck me hyung!”

“Shh, baby. You’ll wake the rest of the house.” Jimin lines his cock up with Jungkook’s hole, teasing him a bit. Jungkook squirms, trying to get Jimin’s cock inside him. Jimin laughs, pushing forward to enter him slowly. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? All six of us, standing around you with our dicks out, taking turns fucking your sweet little hole.” With these final words, Jimin bottoms out inside Jungkook, forcing a sharp gasp from the younger. 

“Who do you think would have the biggest cock?” Jimin continues, starting up a steady, gut-wrenching pace that has Jungkook fighting to keep silent. God, how can Jimin keep on like this and still manage to fuck him so well? How can Jimin turn him on with just a few, filthy sentences? “I know Tae-tae has the biggest - god it would split you open - but he doesn’t know how to use it. Like. This.” Jimin punctuates each of his words with a thrust that sends Jungkook reeling, cock leaking onto his stomach. 

“Ah, Jimin-hyung, it’s so, so…” Jungkook can’t stand it, pulling Jimin down to kiss him, really kiss him. Even as he kisses back, Jungkook can feel Jimin’s grin. The heat in his gut is boiling over, and he can’t help but want Jimin. Maybe this is what Yoongi’s hunger feels like. Maybe this is where the tables turn on themselves. 

They separate slowly, breathing in each other’s air. Jungkook can count each of Jimin’s lashes from this angle. Jimin’s eyes are dark, deep and soft for the boy beneath him. And then he says, 

“Did Yoongi even look at your face when fucking you?” All at once, the blood in Jungkook’s veins turns to ice. Jimin’s eyes are cold and mocking, and Jungkook remembers with a start that Jimin’s cock is still inside him. Jimin starts up at a harsh pace, bumping up against Jungkook’s prostate and making his cock leak a puddle onto his stomach. He’s a mess. 

“He didn’t, did he?” Jimin smirks, the only sign of him affected being the sweat dripping down his temple. “He put you on your hands and knees, didn’t he?” 

“Yeah!” Jungkook cries out. He’s so close, nerves rubbed raw first by Yoongi’s indifference and now Jimin’s shaming. 

“And you still came all over yourself, didn’t you?” Jimin’s close too, his face flushed and his hips starting to lose their rhythm. 

“Yeah! - Ah! Hyung!” Jungkook comes with a muffled shout, biting into his lower lip. Jimin thrusts into him a few more times, pushing Jungkook into overstimulation before coming inside him. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and tries to catch his breath. Jimin slips out and lays next to him. Jungkook can hear Jimin breathing hard, keeping his eyes shut. If this is like with Yoongi, then this is a moment he doesn’t want to end. 

“Well, that was unexpected,” Jimin laughs breathlessly. Jungkook feels him roll over and press a lingering kiss onto his cheek. Jungkook swallows, doesn’t open his eyes. He feels a hand on his chest. “Hey, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin sounds serious. 

Carefully, Jungkook opens his eyes. Jimin’s face swims above his own, concern etched into his features. “Are you okay? What do you need?” 

“‘M fine, hyung,” Jungkook mumbles around a dry throat. He really is fine, nothing hurts (more than they’re supposed to hurt, at least) but Jimin doesn’t seem satisfied. And for what he needs? “...Can I have a hug?” 

“Of course, baby.” Jimin wraps his arms around him, tucking his head under Jungkook’s chin. The liquid metal heat in Jungkook’s stomach is cooling into something permanent, something shiny. He feels a little better with Jimin nearby, touching him. 

“What does this mean, hyung?” Jungkook’s voice is quiet, small, but not ashamed. Jimin holds him a little tighter. 

“It means you have kinks, JK. It’s not a big deal.” There’s a pause, where they both just breathe. “And I don’t really think you’re a slut, you know.” 

“I know.” Another pause. “What about Yoongi-hyung?” 

“What about him?” Jimin’s voice is sleepy against Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook stares forward at the wall, unwilling to look down at him.

“What do I say? How do I look him in the eye?” 

“Well,” Jimin says, some of his normal teasing slipping into his tone, “Though I doubt he thinks of you as a slut either, you are now free to ask him for more kinky sex, if you so wish. Or any of the hyungs.” 

“Jimin!” Jungkook hisses, suddenly mindful of the five other people that share this dorm. “I couldn’t!”

“Says who?” Jimin yawns, turning over to grab his phone and check the time. “It’s fun.” 

“It’s-wait.” Jungkook squints his eyes at Jimin, who scrolls nonchalantly through his messages. “You’ve - all the hyungs?” Jimin presses his lips together and nods, almost as if he’s trying to hold his laughter inside. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Wait, how is, what is -” Jungkook stammers, overtaken by the sudden images of Jimin with Hoseok, with Namjoon, with - “What’s, um, what’s Jin-hyung like?” Jimin sits up to see him better, grinning. 

“Well, I have to leave something for you to find out.” Jimin slides out of the bed, throwing a pair of boxers at Jungkook’s head. “C’mon, I’ll tell you about his thing for hands in the shower, we both need one.” Jungkook hops out of bed, following blindly. 

“Shower - thing for hands, Jimin-hyung wait!” He chases Jimin’s soft laughter all the way down the hall, feeling warm, warm, warm.