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When Jungkook asked Jimin to help him through his heat, Jimin was flattered.

He’s still flattered, and the last thing he wants is for Jungkook to spend his heat alone, but to be completely honest, he didn’t expect to be so exhausted. Jimin had heard from plenty of friends over the years about the tribulations of heat cycles, but none of those friends were bunny hybrids, and bunny hybrids are — well, different. Inexhaustible. The thing is, bunny hybrids’ heats never go away; they just take suppressants until it’s no longer safe to, and then a whole year’s worth of pent up sexual frustration gets released over the span of just a few days.

It should be mentioned that it’s currently only day two of Jungkook’s heat. The first day, Jungkook and Jimin fucked seven times - Jungkook was really only coherent the first three times, because after a complaint about Jimin being ‘way too nice to me, c’mon, I’m not gonna break. I don’t go to the gym so often to be fucked like I’m made out of porcelain’, Jimin had proceeded to fuck Jungkook until all he could do was drool into the mattress. When Jimin tried to feed him, bringing back two protein bars from the kitchen - one for each of them - Jungkook spent no less than half an hour complaining about why Jimin wasn’t just eating him, instead. After that, he refused to eat anything unless Jimin chewed it up and mouth-fed it to him, which was surprisingly difficult given how hard the bunny hybrid was giggling the entire time.

Basically, if today goes anything like yesterday did, Jimin is really in for it. Even if — when — Jungkook comes around looking for more, it won’t be the first time he and Jimin have had sex today - Jimin had woken up to Jungkook riding him some time in the wee hours of the morning; before Jungkook’s heat had started, Jimin had given Jungkook explicit permission to do so, but he didn’t think the bunny hybrid would cash in on the opportunity so soon. Jimin’s muscles are still wound tight from the incident, having fucked Jungkook into the mattress after the bunny hybrid got too sleepy to keep himself upright; he’d insisted that if Jimin didn’t fuck him, he was going to ‘spontaneously combust, bursting into a bunny-shaped ball of flames and burning down the entire apartment complex’, subjecting both himself and Jimin ‘to a life of crippling debt’. Jimin practically fucked him to sleep, and while Jungkook was drifting off, he’d murmured, “Would be nice if you fucked me awake, too.”

Jimin really considered it, but thinking back to how hard it was to get Jungkook to eat the first day, he figured that it’d be better for the bunny hybrid in the long run if he used the time to make breakfast, instead. He thinks that Jungkook will be more receptive to food consumption pre-fucking; the bunny hybrid only really loses lucidness after he’s had a cock (or two) inside of him.

Apparently, even though he was practically asleep when he said it, Jungkook still remembers his request. He saunters into the living room donning an oversized t-shirt that hits him mid-thigh, various rosy marks - courtesy of Jimin - on nearly all visible portions of his skin, and a notable frown.

“You didn’t do it,” Jungkook asserts, a crease between his brows and his fluffy white ears tensed above his head.

“Hmm?” Jimin asks, setting two plates of protein pancakes onto the dining table. Truth be told, the stacks are more fruit than pancake, but Jimin has to get nutrients into Jungkook somehow.

Jungkook narrows his eyes, stopping a foot away from the table. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Jimin decides to continue playing coy, and he tilts his head, apologetic smile on his face, before gesturing down at the pancakes. “I made us breakfast.”

Jungkook is usually extremely mannerful, but this time around, he just purses his lips, likely weighing his hunger against his horniness.

“It took me like an hour to make this,” Jimin says, intentionally sounding disappointed.

“Oh,” Jungkook remarks. A blush settles across his nose, and he gives Jimin a sheepish grin, signalling that he’s snapped out of his stupor. “Sorry, it’s — it looks really good, thank you.”

Jimin grins back at him. “Of course, bun. Let’s eat!”

Jimin pulls a chair out and sits down, only to see that Jungkook is still standing next to him with no apparent intent to take his usual seat across the table.

“Can I sit in your lap?” Jungkook asks, one of his ears quirking in question.

As much as Jimin would like that and as innocent as the bunny hybrid looks, eyes bright and wanting, he’s pretty sure Jungkook has ulterior motives. “If I let you, you’re not going to eat properly.”

Jungkook frowns, ear flopping in discontent. “Please?”

“You promise you’ll actually eat?”

Jungkook nods, and Jimin sighs, then scoots his chair back. Jungkook clambers onto his lap, shifting so that his back is flush against Jimin’s torso. This also means that his ass is flush against Jimin’s crotch, and Jimin’s able to feel the fabric of Jungkook’s panties against the cloth of his pants, which makes it a bit difficult to focus on eating. Still, Jimin’s always had great mental fortitude, and he pushes through like a champ, shoveling bites of pancakes and berries into his mouth in an effort to distract himself from the warmth of Jungkook’s body.

Jungkook fidgets around a bit as he gets about eating breakfast, but it’s not quite enough for Jimin to accuse him of any wrongdoing. That is, until Jungkook starts actively rolling his hips, shifting so that Jimin’s now hardened cocks slip against the cleft of his ass.

“Stop that,” Jimin demands, trying not to choke on a blueberry.

Jungkook wiggles another time, grinding down onto Jimin’s crotch, but then does as told. Jimin can’t see his face, but he’s sure that Jungkook’s grinning.

The bunny hybrid starts acting up again just a minute later, and Jimin rests his fork against a napkin and places both hands on Jungkook’s hips, gripping to hold him in place.

“Jungkook, you promised,” he reminds, trying his best not to sound breathy.

Jungkook turns around and quirks his lips at Jimin, mouth twisting into an aggrieved pout.

“Up,” Jimin orders, tapping Jungkook’s hip for emphasis.

Jungkook protests, of course, but Jimin remains insistent. After some bickering, Jungkook gets out of Jimin’s lap and sits down across from him, clearly disgruntled. “I thought you agreed to help me with my heat,” Jungkook grumbles, before shoving a very spiteful forkful of pancake into his mouth.

Jimin just smiles. “After breakfast, okay?”

At that, Jungkook brightens up a bit, ears again perking up over his head. Jimin watches on, amused, as Jungkook doubles the speed of his eating; still, Jimin finishes first, and he busses his dish while he waits for Jungkook to finish. He returns to the dining table to find that Jungkook still isn’t done; he’s barely made any progress since Jimin left. 

“Now?” Jungkook asks, eyes sparkling and eager.

“You have to finish, bun,” Jimin says. “It’s for your own good.”

Jungkook knows as well as Jimin does that it’s true, so even though he purses his lips in dissatisfaction, he does as told, picking up his fork and stabbing at a slice of banana.

As vicious as Jungkook is to his breakfast, Jimin still thinks that he’s adorable, and he watches Jungkook eat for a few more seconds before excusing himself. “I’ll be in the office, okay?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows immediately knit, and he looks at Jimin with his mouth full of pancake and his eyes full of accusation.

“I have to send the case from this week out by tonight,” Jimin explains. “It’s the last thing I have to do, bun. Then I’m all yours.”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, spearing a raspberry with almost frightening intensity.

Jimin’s just sent the case off and closed the browser window when Jungkook knocks on the door to the office.

“Come in,” Jimin calls, and Jungkook appears, peeking his head through the crack in the door before stepping fully into the room.

“Did you finish?” Jimin asks, eyes following Jungkook as he walks up to the desk he’s sitting at.

Jungkook purses his lips, coming to a stop right next to Jimin’s chair.

“Bun…”

“It’s not that I don’t like the food you made, I’m just not that hungry right now,” Jungkook mumbles, expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just wanna…”

He lets out a small, frustrated noise, stepping closer to Jimin, and Jimin quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“You just want to what? Get fucked?”

Jungkook’s cheeks flare, and he gives Jimin a slight nod; Jimin’s really not sure what, at this point, he still has to be embarrassed about.

“Well, you have to earn it, and you, surely, have not,” Jimin says, voice flat.

“Wait, no,” Jungkook protests, the corners of his lips downturned. “Jimin, please?”

Jimin redirects his gaze down to his laptop, then opens up a new browser window and looks for something to do. He settles for the news tab, knowing it’ll be droll enough to annoy Jungkook should the bunny hybrid take a look at his screen.

“Jimin,” Jungkook whines. He gets behind Jimin’s chair, puts his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, and pulls, trying to pry him backwards.

“Stop it,” Jimin snaps, and the pressure on the back of the chair eases. The room fills with the faint, impatient thumping of Jungkook’s feet against the carpet.

After some time, Jungkook speaks again. “Can I sit in your lap, at least?”

Jimin scoots back wordlessly, and there’s a very notable uptick in Jungkook’s scent as he climbs into Jimin’s lap. Jungkook scoots up, pressing his chest to Jimin’s, and nuzzles into his shoulder, cheek pressed against his neck.

This close, Jungkook’s scent is heady and a bit overwhelming; Jimin’s still able to focus on the words in front of him, but less so when Jungkook starts grinding down onto him. Jimin keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the screen as Jungkook swings a leg down between Jimin’s and takes to grinding on one of his thighs.

“Jimin, please, I need it,” Jungkook whines. “It feels like I’m burning up.”

“You haven't earned it, though, bun.”

Jimin feels Jungkook’s whimper against his neck, and it’s accompanied by a vague wetness on his shoulder as Jungkook buries his face into it. For a few moments, Jungkook is still against him, as if waiting for Jimin to change his mind, but he eventually takes the hint that it’s not going to happen and settles for riding Jimin’s thigh, small noises of frustration mixing with the moans that pour from his lips.

Something’s missing from the equation, and Jimin’s brow furrows when he realizes what it is. “You’re not even wet, sweetness,” he comments, trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

“I am, I am,” Jungkook pants. “I just have a plug in.”

“Why’s that, bun?”

“Or else I’d just be leaking everywhere,” Jungkook sniffles. “Didn’t wanna get everything dirty.”

Jimin hums. “If you’re already plugged up, what do you need me for?”

“It’s not the same!” Jungkook cries out as if wounded, hips still rolling. “Please, I’ll—“

Jungkook reaches behind himself, presumably to take the plug out, but Jimin catches his wrist and holds it still.

“If you get slick on these pants, you're going to be fisting yourself to sleep tonight,” Jimin growls. 

Jungkook sniffles between pants and lets out a sad, meek, “Okay,” but his whining crescendos into more tears as he continues grinding down onto Jimin’s thigh. “‘S not enough, ‘s not enough, please ,” Jungkook sobs.

Eventually, when the fabric of Jimin’s shirt is drenched through to his skin, Jimin plants his feet on the floor and pushes the chair back from the desk, then swivels to the side, facing open space. Jungkook lets out a noise of surprise when Jimin pushes him off of his lap, and Jungkook braces himself on his forearms against the hard wooden floor.

“What’d you do that — ah!”

Jungkook’s question is lost when Jimin drapes himself over the bunny hybrid’s frame and rolls his hips, humping Jungkook into the floor. Jungkook sobs and shifts his weight back, back arching as he meets Jimin’s thrusts, and Jimin can feel the outline of the plug against his crotch, pushing into Jungkook. Jungkook’s crying even harder, now, entire frame trembling underneath Jimin. “‘S not enough,” he keeps saying. His words get more and more incoherent as time goes on; his arms give in and he slumps down onto the floor, body pliant as Jimin fucks him into the ground.

“‘S, mnh, not — ah, haah,” Jungkook moans. His hips jerk, and there’s a notable tremble in his thighs as Jimin continues pushing forward against them. In this position, Jungkook’s cock isn’t visible, but Jimin knows him well enough to know that he just came.

“It's not enough? You came anyways, though, slut.”

Jungkook sniffles miserably. “But ‘m not full, needa be filled.”

“You don't deserve it,” Jimin says, voice cold. With that, he gets up, brushes his pants off, and sits back down on the chair, swiveling so he’s again facing the desk. At this angle, he can still see Jungkook; the bunny hybrid’s splayed out on the ground, legs spread at the angles Jimin left them in, revealing the pretty, baby blue lace of his panties. He’s still letting out soft little moans once in a while, and he twitches against the floor, thighs trembling.

Jimin averts his gaze to his laptop when Jungkook shows signs of coherence, licking some of his drool back into his mouth before it drips down onto the floor. He gets up onto his forearms, then his knees, then his feet; while he’s wobbly, he manages to stand, though Jimin notes, out of the corner of his eye, that it takes Jungkook a few tries. He stumbles over to Jimin, bracing himself on the back of the chair and hovering behind Jimin’s shoulder, and Jimin swivels the chair around to face him.

“What,” he says, tone flat.

Jungkook’s eyes are still swimming with tears, and he fidgets under Jimin’s gaze, a small frown pulling at his lips. “Please?”

His hands work nervously at the fabric of his top, drawing Jimin’s attention down to his torso. There’s a wet patch on the front of the shirt and, entertained, Jimin leans forward and grabs the bottom of the garment, pulling it taught. The motion reveals the outline of Jungkook’s half-hard cock and the subtle detailing of his panties, but also, to Jimin’s surprise, the outlines of lace higher up. With an eyebrow raise, Jimin hoists the shirt up over Jungkook’s chest and finds that Jungkook’s wearing a bralette, the same shade of baby blue as his panties. 

“My chest gets sore and swells when I’m in heat,” Jungkook explains, and Jimin’s eyes glint as he bears witness to the fact, the bunny hybrid’s already large pecs augmented and straining against the bralette. “It’s also more sensitive,” Jungkook adds on, voice quiet.

Jimin breathes out an incredulous laugh, then reaches a finger out and circles the outline of one of Jungkook’s nipples over the fabric of his bralette. Jungkook jolts, and when Jimin closes his hand over one of his pecs and gives it a squeeze, Jungkook moans and bucks forward into his touch.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook asks, breathy and hopeful, back arching so as to push up into Jimin’s hand.

Jimin pauses, considering. “You look like a cow hybrid, bun.”

Jungkook’s brows knit, and he tilts his head, evidently conflicted between interpreting the statement as a compliment or as an insult. “Is that..?”

Jimin grins and gives Jungkook’s pec a particularly rough squeeze, delighting in the way Jungkook writhes. “Why don't you moo for me, baby?”

Jungkook looks even more conflicted now. “If you moo for me, I’ll milk your tits,” Jimin says matter-of-factly.

Jungkook’s face turns a rosy pink, lips pressing into a thin line, and Jimin waits a bit, still massaging Jungkook’s pecs in his hands. After a few more seconds of silence, he lets go with a sigh, turning back towards the desk. “No? Okay, then.”

“No!” Jungkook shouts, and when Jimin turns to look at him, he sees that the bunny hybrid’s tearing up again. “Please, I’ll — moo. Moo?”

Jungkook says it with a rather cute head tilt, and Jimin just laughs. “That’s a good little bun.”

“Are you - you’re not gonna do it?” Jungkook asks, clearly disappointed by Jimin’s lack of action.

“Do what?”

Jungkook pauses, and Jimin looks over just in time to see his cheeks turn pink again. “Will you m-milk my tits, please?”

Jimin hums. “Since you asked so nicely - c’mere.”

He leans back, giving Jungkook room to once again clamber into his lap. Eagerly, Jungkook lifts his shirt up over his chest, fingers bunched tightly in the fabric and eyes bright and expectant. Jimin reaches forward and pulls his top down again, knowing the friction of the fabric will be more stimulating for the bunny hybrid, and then gets to work on Jungkook’s chest, thumbing at his nipples. They perk up underneath the material, and Jimin can’t resist the urge to lean in and take them between his lips, mouthing wet spots onto the fabric. Jungkook lets out a slew of whimpers, hips subtly rolling. Soon enough, his movements stutter, and he throws his head back with a gratuitous moan. More wet patches appear on the fabric of his shirt, and Jimin reaches a hand underneath Jungkook’s shirt and wraps it around his cock, jerking him through his release. Some of the hybrid’s cum splatters onto his hand, and after Jungkook slumps down against Jimin, boneless, Jimin brings his hand to Jungkook’s mouth and pries his lips apart, his arousal flaring at the sensation of Jungkook’s tongue around his fingers, lapping up his own cum. 

Jimin can feel Jungkook’s nipples poking against his chest, still perky under the layers of his top and bralette. Eventually, they soften enough for Jungkook to press flush against him; at the same time, Jimin feels Jungkook’s cock hardening, nudging up against his abdomen. 

Jimin lets out a dramatized yawn, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, and then settles his hands on Jungkook’s hips and eases him off. 

“Why, why, why,” Jungkook demands, whining, as Jimin gets up.

Jimin takes a second to gather his thoughts, a bit caught up on the various obscene, telling splotches on Jungkook’s shirt. “It doesn’t really seem like you want it, bun. Your cock isn’t even that hard, your nipples are soft, and you're not even wet. Fix those three things, and then you can come find me.”

Jungkook blinks blankly at him, and Jimin hovers at the door, watching Jungkook process his words; his expression falls when he finally does.

“Wait, ‘m so wet for you,” Jungkook says, feet thumping in frustration. “Jimin, please, it’s just the plug - you told me I couldn’t get your pants dirty!”

Jimin shrugs. “Tough luck.”

He turns and strides out of the office, and he hears the pad of feet as Jungkook tries to catch him, as well as the dull thump of the bunny hybrid hitting the floor after he fails to grab Jimin’s arm.

“Jimin, please,” Jungkook pleads, but the words are muffled by Jimin shutting the door behind him.

Jimin walks over to the kitchen and looks through the refrigerator for something to eat. He’d given Jungkook the bigger portion this morning, so he’s feeling a bit hungry; he briefly considers eating the pancakes Jungkook didn’t finish, but he saves the food for the bunny hybrid, settling instead for a banana he’d left out on the counter earlier. He finishes it, tosses the peel, and washes his hands, all the while surprised that Jungkook still hasn’t crawled his way into the kitchen.

Jimin exits the kitchen, walking into the living room, and comes face-to-face with a teary Jungkook.

“Please, I—I did it.” Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head and discards it on a nearby chair. His nipples perk up under his bralette, the lace a bit scrunched from his own workings, and his cock is hard and leaking against his stomach. Pink marks line the stretch of his torso, blooming notably around his collar and hip bones, and Jimin has to bite back a satisfied smirk at the sight.

Jimin raises his pointer finger and twirls it, and Jungkook turns around obediently. He pushes his hips back to show Jimin his hole; he’s dripping everywhere, slick trickling down from his entrance and coating his inner thighs. With how wet he is, it would be odd for the floor to still be pristine; Jimin looks down and blinks a few times, adjusting to the patterning of the floor, and sees that, sure enough, there’s some slick shining against the wood.

“You got the floor dirty, bun,” Jimin tuts.

“I told you!” Jungkook says, indignant. “If I take the plug out, then—“

“Are you saying it's my fault?” Jimin interjects, tone sharp. “That you’re leaking everywhere like a stupid little bitch?”

Jungkook whimpers and shakes his head, eyes wide.

“Clean it up,” Jimin spats. Jungkook motions to leave, presumably to fetch a towel, but Jimin catches his wrist and roots him in place. 

“No,” Jimin asserts. “Lick it up.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. Jimin narrows his eyes, and Jungkook’s face burns pink before he walks over to the mess and gets onto his hands and knees. Jimin stands and watches, arms crossed, as Jungkook lowers his head down, peeks his tongue out, and starts lapping up the slick, kitten licking it off the floor. After a few moments, Jimin gets impatient, and he walks over and steps on Jungkook’s back, applying just enough pressure to pin him down to the ground.

“Faster,” he orders.

Jungkook picks up the pace, and Jimin can tell from the franticness of his motions that his mind is barely there. The bunny hybrid sits back on his knees when he’s done, and he looks up at Jimin with his tongue still lolled out.

“Good boy,” Jimin praises, taking one of Jungkook’s ears in his hand and petting it.

Jungkook smiles, and only then remembers to retract his tongue. Jimin huffs in amusement, then lets go of the ear and walks over to the couch. He sits down and, out of the corner of his eye, sees Jungkook staring wide-eyed at him while he turns on the TV and flips to a satisfactory channel.

Jungkook scampers over, stepping into Jimin’s field of vision. “Wait, ‘m ready, ‘n you promised!” he says, tone fully betrayed. He wiggles a bit, pushing his chest out and presenting his body to Jimin.

“I didn’t promise you anything, bun.”

Jungkook frowns. “Please? I need you so badly, Jimin.”

Jimin tilts his head, considering, gaze still trained on the television. Jungkook gets onto his knees and nudges closer, resting a hand on Jimin’s thigh. Jimin turns to look at him, and Jungkook just stares up at him, gaze pleading. Jimin purses his lips and looks back at the TV.

Jungkook lets out a noise of frustration, then walks on his knees until he’s situated between Jimin’s legs. Jimin reacts to him only when Jungkook starts unbuttoning his pants, twisting a hand in Jungkook’s hair and yanking back harshly.

“I don't want that filthy mouth of yours anywhere near me,” Jimin snarls, glaring down at the bunny hybrid.

“No, please,” Jungkook whimpers, eyes swimming in fresh tears. Jimin releases his grip on Jungkook’s hair and sits back on the couch, crossing his legs, and Jungkook’s whimpers increase in volume as he starts to cry.

“Go get yourself cleaned up,” Jimin orders, voice cold.

Jungkook sniffles and departs, and when he returns, the tears have stopped and his eyes are red and puffy. He stands to the left of Jimin, a hand clasped to his opposite forearm, wavering.

“What do you want?” Jimin snaps.

Jungkook’s bottom lip trembles precariously, and his eyes are large and still a bit glossy as he looks at Jimin. “Can I just have a kiss, please?” he asks, voice achingly soft.

Jimin’s facade shatters immediately, and his brows knit in worry. “Oh, baby,” he coos, reaching his arms out towards the hybrid. “Yes, of course, c’mere.”

“Th-thank you,” Jungkook hiccups, and he climbs and settles himself into Jimin’s lap, straddling Jimin’s legs.

Jimin wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist, drawing him closer, and brings a hand to his face, caressing his cheek. He eases Jungkook forward and presses their lips together, kissing him softly, and Jungkook melts against him. The bunny hybrid slips his tongue past Jimin’s lips, and the faint taste of mint hits Jimin’s tongue, but the kiss is still soft and languid, filled to the brim with affection.

Jimin pulls back and presses his forehead to Jungkook’s, both arms now circling the hybrid’s waist. “Are you okay, bun? Do you want to keep going?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, ‘m okay, wanna keep going,” he rasps. “Jus’ wan’ you really, really bad. Need you, Jimin, please?” He wiggles a bit against Jimin, and Jimin smiles at him, reaching a hand up and pushing Jungkook’s fringe out of his eyes.

“Can I — can I suck you off? I can earn it,” Jungkook says, expression determined.

Jimin grins. “I know you can, sweetness. Yes, go ahead.”

Jungkook clambers off of Jimin’s lap and sinks down between his knees, and it’s just a few seconds before he has Jimin’s pants unbuttoned and both of his cocks in his hands. He leans forward and wraps his mouth around one of the lengths, and wet slurping sounds fill the room as he works his way down, fisting what he hasn’t yet taken into his mouth. Jimin sits back against the couch, spending a few moments admiring the sight of Jungkook’s lips stretched around his cock before turning his attention back to the TV.

He sees Jungkook look up at him, and the bunny hybrid lets out a noise of complaint that’s muffled by Jimin’s cock. He pops off of it with a wet noise, then surges up to Jimin’s field of vision, hands still fisting both of Jimin’s lengths.

“Why aren’t you paying attention to me,” Jungkook demands, brow furrowed.

“I would if you were doing a better job,” Jimin responds, tone nonchalant.

The crease between Jungkook’s brows deepens, and then he disappears from Jimin’s sight, ducking down to suck furiously at Jimin’s cocks, alternating between the lengths. Jimin’s eyes nearly roll back into his head, but he manages to stay outwardly calm, lips pursed as he watches the drama playing on the screen across from him. 

Jungkook gags himself on one of Jimin’s cocks, and though he can feel the bunny hybrid’s eyes on him, he doesn’t look down. Jungkook lets out a whine and again pulls off of Jimin’s cock. 

“‘M trying, Koo’s trying, please look at me,” he cries, and Jimin just reaches down and threads a hand through his hair, eyes still fixed resolutely forward.

“Please, please,” Jungkook begs, sniffling.

Jimin sighs, finally looking down at Jungkook and his teary eyes and his mouth full of cock. He weaves his fingers through Jungkook’s hair and yanks him forward, snapping his hips up and proceeding to fuck Jungkook’s throat. Jungkook gurgles around his length, and Jimin can tell that he’s opening his throat as best he can, but he eventually pushes back against Jimin’s hand, floundering. In response, Jimin yanks him down further, and Jungkook’s throat constricts rapidly as he chokes, spit gathering at the corners of his mouth and rolling down onto his chin.

“You said you wanted to earn it ,” Jimin hisses, voice biting. “Now’s your chance.”

Jungkook stops pushing backwards, but tears slip continuously out of the corner of his eyes as Jimin uses his throat. Jimin fists his other cock with his hand, rubbing it over Jungkook’s face, before getting a better idea; he yanks one of Jungkook’s ears down and then slides his cock through the shell of it, and Jungkook sobs around his cock as Jimin readjusts and smears precum all over the white fluff of the bunny hybrid’s ear.

When Jimin comes, his release goes straight down Jungkook's throat, and he positions his other length so as to paint stripes of cum all over Jungkook’s face. He finally pulls out and lets go of Jungkook, and the bunny hybrid falls back onto his ass with a heaving gasp. He sputters as if he’s drowning, a hand coming up to his throat and massaging the area. Jimin gets up to go get Jungkook some water, but he’s stopped by a hand wrapping around his ankle.

“No, please stay,” Jungkook rasps. Jimin purses his lips and sits down next to Jungkook, bringing a hand to his back and massaging as Jungkook coughs.

“Fuck,” Jungkook finally says, eyelashes fluttering as he catches his breath. “I—mmn.”

He swipes his tongue around his lips, licking Jimin’s cum into his mouth, then runs his fingers through the release still painting his face and licks the digits clean, eyelids drooping. Jimin adjusts so that Jungkook can lean all of his body weight against him, and just as he thinks Jungkook is about to fall asleep, the hybrid opens his eyes and angles his head to look up at Jimin. 

“Will you fuck me now? Did I — I earned it, right?”

Jimin smiles. “Of course, bun.”

Jungkook shoots him a bright smile, and, with surprising agility, gets up, circles a hand around Jimin’s wrist, and drags him to the bedroom.

He flops down onto the bed, slides his panties off, and spreads his legs, giving Jimin a full view of his sopping entrance, the rim still a bit puffy from earlier that day. 

“Please,” Jungkook says. “‘Want you so badly.”

“I can tell, bun,” Jimin teases. He props himself up above Jungkook and nips fresh marks along his collar as he works his fingers into the hybrid, and with how wet and desperate Jungkook is, it’s not long before Jimin’s fisting him, wrist shoved up past Jungkook’s rim. Jungkook babbles the entire time, mindless sounds escaping his parted lips, the only break in the pattern the long, satisfied moan he lets out when Jimin pushes his cock into his hole. 

“Your cunt is so loose, baby,” Jimin comments, brows knitting as he starts thrusting into the bunny hybrid.

Jungkook lets out a noise of complaint, and his lips pull down into a frown, but he doesn’t say much else, spurring Jimin to continue.

“If I put the plug in now, it’d probably just fall right out,” Jimin says. On that note, he really is curious if it’s true, so he pulls out of Jungkook despite the high whine the bunny hybrid lets out and gets about finding the object. He retrieves the box Jungkook keeps under the bed and forces the bunny hybrid to point the correct plug out to him, then plucks it out, slots the box back in place, and settles back between Jungkook’s legs.

Jimin lets out a condescending laugh when he pushes the plug in and finds that it really does just slip out, Jungkook’s hole now fucked too loose to hold it in. 

“No, no!” Jungkook sobs, thrashing against the sheets. Jimin picks the plug up and places it at a corner of the bed, then lines himself up again with Jungkook’s entrance and pushes in, bottoming out with a wet squelch.

“‘No’ what, baby?”

Jungkook looks confused, small, stupid noises falling from his lips as Jimin thrusts into him. “I—? I dunno,” he says, giving up.

Jimin laughs. “What a stupid, fuckdumb little bunny.”

“‘M jus’ a hole”, Jungkook hiccups, eyes glazed over. “Jus’ wanna be used n’ filled up.”

Jimin coos. “Yes, you are. A loose, sloppy little hole.”

“‘M not loose!” Jungkook cries out, frowning.

As if to prove his point, he clenches around Jimin’s cock; he does pretty well, walls constricting deliciously around Jimin’s length, but Jimin’s not about to let him know that.

“But you are, sweetness,” Jimin tuts. “I can barely feel you around my cock.”

Jungkook heaves out a distressed sob. “Put both cocks in! I won't be loose then, I’ll be full, I’ll clench, please, please.”

Jimin pulls back and prods two fingers in alongside his cock, and Jungkook starts crying even harder, shaking his head. “No! Wan’ the other cock!”

When Jimin gives it to him, Jungkook wails. “‘S good, ‘m so full, yes, yes, ah! Wan’ it, wan’ it, wan’ it.”

His words get less and less coherent as Jimin fucks into him, and he comes with a shout, Jimin’s name spilling from his lips. For a few moments, he looks dazed, body limp as Jimin fucks into him, but then his expression twists.

“No, ‘s too much,” he sobs, hands flying up to grip Jimin’s forearms. “‘M too sensitive.”

“You said you wanted this, didn’t you, bun?” Jimin grits out, voice breathy from exertion as he continues pounding into the hybrid.

Jungkook nods, grimace fading a bit.

“Then shut up and take it,” Jimin hisses. He ramps up the pace, each thrust sealed with a harsh, resounding slap, and Jungkook sobs underneath him, tears streaming down his face and wetting the sheets. When Jungkook starts choking on his own tears, moans lost in the franticness of his breaths, Jimin halts out of concern.

“I didn’t say it!” Jungkook exclaims, even more hysterical now. “Didn’ say the word, don’ stop, Jimin, please .”

Jimin purses his lips and resumes, pace slower than before until Jungkook’s breathing levels into his regular pants. “Ah! Ah, ‘s so much, ‘m so sensitive,” he sobs, even as he kicks his hips down to meet Jimin’s thrusts.

Jungkook lets out a loud cry when Jimin leans down, eases his bralette down underneath his chest, and takes one of his nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth.

“Jimin, I—” Jungkook gasps, twitching under Jimin’s lips, head thrashing. “Ah, ‘s so good.”

He comes after Jimin moves to his other nipple, flicking at it with his tongue, and by the time Jimin finishes, he’s almost asleep, the twitch of his legs and the flutter of his lashes the only realt signals of wakefulness as Jimin’s cum spills into him, rounding out his stomach. He lets out a soft moan when Jimin pulls out, but then he’s still, drifting off to sleep as slick and cum seep out of his abused entrance and trickle onto the sheets below.

Jimin goes to the bathroom and fetches a cloth, then wipes Jungkook down with it, cleaning the hybrid up as best he can. It takes two trips to the bathroom, wetting and washing out the towel, for Jimin to get all of the dried cum, slick, and spit off of Jungkook’s skin, and even then, he can’t quite clean the hybrid’s entrance, much of his cum still inside of Jungkook as indicated by the lingering swell of his stomach. 

Jimin will tend to that when he gets Jungkook into the shower; in the meantime, he goes to fetch some water and a protein bar. When he returns, Jungkook’s eyes flutter open, and he turns and nudges into Jimin when Jimin sits down on the bed. Jimin eases Jungkook into a sitting position, cradling the hybrid in his arms, and Jungkook leans his head against Jimin’s shoulder, lids hooded.

Jimin brings the bottle of water to Jungkook’s lips, and Jungkook drinks some of the liquid; it takes a few attempts, but Jimin’s eventually able to get him to drink half the bottle. The protein bar is a different story - when he nudges it up against Jungkook’s lips, Jungkook frowns and turns his head to the side, slotting his nose against Jimin’s neck.

“Jungkook,” Jimin urges, voice soft. Jungkook doesn’t budge in the slightest, and Jimin sighs. “Jungkook, please.”

At that, Jungkook turns and looks up at Jimin’s face, eyes lax and unfocused. He opens his mouth just slightly, enough for Jimin to fit the bar in, but Jimin has to bend his hand to break the piece off for him. To Jimin’s chagrin, Jungkook just holds the bar in his mouth and drifts off again, eyelids fluttering shut.

Jimin sighs, exasperation clear in the noise, and Jungkook’s eyes open again. He chews, albeit slowly, and after he swallows, he looks up at Jimin.

“Thank you, baby,” Jimin says, bringing a hand up to caress Jungkook’s cheek.

Jungkook gives him a lazy smile, and he lets Jimin feed him the rest of the bar without complaint.

“Clean?” he asks, swallowing the last piece of it.

Jimin hums in agreement, then eases his hands underneath Jungkook and hoists him up into his arms. Jungkook leans into him and yawns as Jimin carries him to the bathroom.

“Do you think you could stand up, bun?” Jimin asks, standing between the bathtub and shower. Jungkook blinks a few times, eyes gradually opening, and nods. Jimin walks over to the shower, opens the door, and sets Jungkook down, then brings his hands to the hybrid’s waist to steady him. 

Jimin scrubs Jungkook down, working the body wash softly over his limbs, since the bunny hybrid seems to lack the energy to do so himself. He then helps Jungkook wash his hair out, then spends a bit longer than usual cleaning the bunny hybrid’s ears, knowing how much Jungkook likes it when Jimin tends to them. Jungkook leans against him the entire time, occasionally letting out a pleased hum to express his contentment. 

Jungkook stands to the side of the stall as Jimin cleans himself up, and he’s coherent enough by the time Jimin moves on to shampoo to help him lather it into his hair, fingers scrubbing softly into the strands. Jimin murmurs his thanks and finishes up soon enough, and he and Jungkook towel off and proceed back to the bedroom.

Jimin realizes why, now, Jungkook insisted on buying three sets of sheets; Jungkook clings onto Jimin’s back as he strips the mattress and the pillows, discarding the soiled fabrics onto the floor, and pulls new sheets and pillowcases onto the bed. Jungkook waddles behind him, arms firm across Jimin’s midsection, for the round trip to the laundry room, and he lets go of Jimin when Jimin lies down on the bed only to cozy up to him again, curling and snuggling into his shoulder.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Jungkook murmurs, breath warm against Jimin’s neck.

“Of course, bun,” Jimin says, curling a lock of Jungkook’s hair behind his ear.

Jungkook’s mouth parts in a yawn, and then his eyes flutter shut. “More later.”

Jimin lets out a small laugh. “Okay.”

“You’ll actually fuck me awake this time?” Jungkook mumbles, voice drowsy. 

Jimin scoffs, but a smile works at the corners of his lips, and his expression is mirrored on Jungkook’s face as the bunny hybrid drifts off to sleep.