jimin’s had a crush on his hyung for a while. it’s a secret he’s kept to himself, and he has no qualms to reveal it—until he accidentally walks in on yoongi. it’s to his greater horror when jimin hears his song Promise playing in the background
— unresolved sexual tension
— canon compliant; think 2018
— songs can have double meanings, hehe
— mature content 🔞🔞🔞
overdue and self-indulgent for @mimimichi4 and myself, and because she promised me her first born 😁
And especially when there’s attraction involved.
Living with Min Yoongi unfurled those feelings for him in a way he couldn’t have imagined; of hidden urges that wouldn’t have made sense outside of their dorm.
And when Jimin needs someone to talk to, Yoongi is always there with a shoulder to listen.
But right now, it’s /definitely/ his physicality.
He thinks about Yoongi, and about Yoongi’s hands; how good they’d probably feel when flexing down on his cock to please him.
Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.
He rubbed his nape with the firm tips of his fingers, kneading the tight muscles and loosening any knots that had been tightened around Jimin’s neck.
No matter how different both pastimes turned out to be.
Images of the older sweating behind Jimin as he admired him from the mirror fill Jimin’s head.
Of course he does; if not, he wouldn’t be so affected by it.
With his black pants, dancing away in the practise room, sweating out the moves as perspiration makes his just as black hair cling to his forehead and nape.
He imagines Yoongi with the pants off, sweating because of something else.
Thinking of his hyung yet again.
Cum streaks the wall, painting it white, and he drags his hand down the cleaner side of it in attempts to keep himself steady.
So much for having wet dreams about his hyung.
After his shower, Jimin orders lunch with Hoseok.
Hoseok doesn’t have anything planned for later, seeing as it’s a Sunday, and the shooting of their concept photos resume from Monday. They ordered fried rice, having that while lounging in the older’s recording studio.
Jimin’s eyebrows draw in, and with a mouthful, asks, “Why are you asking me that?”
Hoseok casually shrugs, biting from his drumstick. “Hyung is busy with making a mixtape these days. Says he hopes to release another already.”
“So possessive, Jimin-ah,” he teases. “/Your/ song.”
With that, Hoseok simply laughs again. “Hopefully he keeps his promise and gives you one, yeah?”
Jimin pouts and petulantly crosses his arms. “He better. I’m getting impatient.”
Jimin wraps up recording at around 9PM. It’s late, he’s tired and voice-weary, and he hasn’t had a meal since that lunch with Hoseok, save for a few in-between snacks that Taehyung had bought the two of them while they worked together on their sub-unit song.
When the producer gives his quota, he nods and thanks him, then packs any valuable items up and heads out.
Even at this time, it’s still clear to tell that many of the staffs and other groups are working on their craft, trying to perfect it.
Jimin is tired, but not if it means he gets to spend relative time with his hyung.
That sounds really nice.
But Yoongi said once he’s not too picky about gifts of sorts.
When he steps out of the elevator, muscle memory happily leading him down the corridor towards Genius Lab, he punches the numbers in the keypad on the silver frame, and waits for the system to calibrate his input.
Promise is playing softly in the speakers of Yoongi’s studio; of course Jimin recognises his own song.
Jimin’s body stiffens, and his blood runs cold.
o and thenk for reading x
His breathing steeps in his chest and his palms sweat, heat surging through his body, and embarrassingly, arousal churns in his gut as what had come out of Yoongi’s mouth registers in his head.
He can’t believe it.
Jimin hears himself—loud and clear.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, voice panic-stricken and edged around confusion. He scrambles to his feet, and when he does Jimin eyes flick down to his waist, where Yoongi adjust the strings of his sweats.
He’s wearing black sweatpants.
Jimin’s throat tightens when he spots something he knows he shouldn’t but somehow can’t help himself from staring at it. It’s raised between Yoongi’s legs, a visible tent that only solidifies what Jimin thinks he was doing.
Doing it with Jimin on his mind.
Jimin blinks, and just as breathily responds, “I can help you.”
It just came out of his mouth before he could stop it.
Yoongi’s already pale face blanches, and he swallows heavily before asking, “What?”
There are two options:
pretending this never happened.
or, killing two birds with one stone.
Jimin purses his lips and takes one step forward. The tension is thick, Promise still plays in the background, but the light ballad and it’s sweetness aren’t enough to mellow the situation. Jimin gulps. “With… what you were doing.”
Jimin shakes his head. “Thinking about me.”
Yoongi looks as tortured as he sounds. “Fuck, Jimin…”
Something flashes in his eyes.
He doesn’t miss it.
Jimin grips onto his wrists, pulling it forward. “But you want to?”
He’s quick to answer. “I do.”
Time stills. Everything is barely perceptible.
Despite how fast his heart is beating, he’s pleased to feel him hard, and his pants are stretched around it, cock pulling taut on them, eager to break free.
yg chuckles wryly. “you’re being really shameless.”
jm draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “doesn’t hyung like that?”
and the glint that flashes in his eyes determines the answer for jm before yg reels it in and accepts it.
instead, his hand falls on jm’s shoulder, fingers brushing against the open skin of jm’s neck, thumb grazing his collar. jm shivers, inadvertently squeezing yg in his hand. his head falls forward and he pinches jm’s shoulder with a groan.
blood reaches his own, and he releases a soft sigh.
jm is wiggling under yg’s work desk, settling on his shins, positioned between his knees.
jm hasn’t ever done anything like this before; he’s never been the one on his knees.
“you okay?” yg asks.
he must be feeling the same. jm nods. “hyung, i’m good.” he brushes his hair out of his face and adds, “it’ll probably be good.”
yg huffs. “probably.”
but then jm’s hand is on his thigh, and he whispers, “it’s okay.”
it feels weirdly serene.
it’s obvious that they’re both too nervous and shy to speak much.
and there’s a lot of fear packed into doing what they’re about to do.
But jm knows he’s dreamt of a moment like this, and he’s not willing to let it slip through his fingers.
but it is yg after all.
jm tries to ease him into it but suddenly yg seems like he’s needy to rush through the whole process, stretching his lips into an awkward smile as he hastily pulls his sweats over his hips.
but he hadn’t expected less; of course his hyung is big.
“you can just…” yg sinks in his chair, jm watches him wrap his hands around the base of his cock. “Want help or something?”
“I’ll just… I’ll put it in my mouth.”
“That’s what’s expected of you.”
jm digs his nails into his palms.
this should be weird, he should feel revolted at doing this with him, but yg isn’t.
jm’s heart is a host to the warm that evokes in him.
he brings his face near, curved under the table. his palms are on his knees, yg’s hand on the top of his head, and it’s quiet, and all that’s heard is the light instruments of jm’s song.
but he feels it, too.
The sound of his moan instantly eggs jm on, and he shifts onto his knees, wiggling out from under the table to position himself better between yg’s legs. His hand falls on his pale thigh, squeezing the soft muscle of it in his hand, and he caresses his skin.
“hyung feels okay?” jm manages, tilting his head to the side to kiss down the side of his cock.
“better than okay.”
when that happens, yg hesitates and lifts his palm up. but jm quickly glances up to say with his eyes that he’s okay, gives a haste nod, and dives back down.
yg shouldn’t feel so good in his mouth, but he does, clean shaven skin of his cock rubbery on jm’s tongue. the softness of his tip grazing at the back of his throat starts to get ticklish with every slow pull back.
Jimin swirls his tongue around his length as he leisurely slides up, adorably and muffles, “Hyung makes it easy.”
it’s nice hearing him do that, throaty sounds that come from his pleasure. yg’s hand grips the top of his head, thumb pressing into jm’s forehead to guide him forward again.
at that moment, « I just wanna blow your mind » sings through low speakers, and jm tries not to snort at the lyric.
it’s courtesy of the older joking about it when they had been wasted a little too much on Soju and the process of writing a song together.
“You’ve done this before?” yg rasps, and when jm’s eyes flick up he’s staring into a pair of very dark, hooded ones.
he shakes his head, and pulls yg out with a wet pop. jm inhales a breath through his mouth.
jm innocently answers, “No but,” and his smirk is devious when he kisses yg’s tip. “i’ve thought about doing it. to you specifically.”
“too many to count.”
yg reaches down and thumbs jm’s lips, passing the pad over the soft plumpness of the bottom one, and huffs, “Well,” his voice is coarse, trying to navigate himself.
he pokes jm’s lip. “You’re pretty good at it.”
It has all the taboos to it.
intermittent groans cover his words as yg murmurs an apology, but jm is too entranced by how intense his hyung’s orgasm plays out to care about it.
his cock stirs in his jeans.
he looks amazing.
“s– shit,” he squeezes out.
until a hand pushes his forehead gently back, “you did good, you did good.”
fir a brief moment, their eyes meet.
jm sits there on his knees, going through everything in between.
Jimin, although in the midst of a euphoric mind with his cock tight in his jeans, seeking something to help it down, feels awfully giddy.
All the breaths have been knocked from him as he says, “You should clean up.”
Jimin dazedly gazes forward, and when he drags the back of his hand down his cheek, he sighs out, “Ah, right.”
Jimin nearly slips into his chair when Yoongi captures them between his own. Wet and open-mouthed, hot and breathy
There’s one thing sucking him off.
Kissing Yoongi feels better than whatever he’d imagined, in his dreams and out.
There’s space between their mouths when Jimin comes to, hot breath curling over his mouth as Yoongi stares up at him. His hold on his waist tightens, and Jiming watches his throat rise slowly then fall once he swallows.
Right now, it’s a track Jimin hasn’t heard before.
There’s a combination of different sounds on it, birds chirping and something that sounds like the rustling of leaves in the wind.
Just all very liberating.
And Yoongi’s response is what he had hoped it to be.
Almost a week goes by, and Jimin can’t stop thinking about what happened.
He’s on his way from the recording room when Yoongi calls out to him.
He doesn’t know why, because it’s not as though he doesn’t recognise Yoongi’s voice—a voice that’s been there next to him for many years—but he’s still fairly startled to hear it.
He toughens up and rids himself of the nerves that should force him to walk away and pretend he hadn’t seen or heard him.
Jimin’s never nervous; that’s Yoongi’s job.
But it’s hard not to be with everything replaying in his head.
Jimin smiles. “I’m good. You?”
“Going through it,” he rubs his back of his neck. Jimin glances at it, then his other hand. He’s concealing something behind his back. “I just wanted to offer you something.”
Yoongi drops a small black casette in his palm, and grunts, “For when you release your own album or mixtape in future.” He looks Jimin in the eye, very serious, a little bit red in the face despite his current resolve. “Keep it safe somewhere. You might need it.”
Jimin stares down at the tape.
But it seems that this tape is Yoongi’s way of breaking the silence first, using music to express his emotions for him instead.
It feels heavy in Jimin’s hand.
There’s a lot of reasons why it could feel heavy.
Could be something else that might catch Jimin off guard as had happened when he walked in on him jerking off to /his/ song.
Could be anything, really.
Nonetheless, neither of the arising reasons seem to bother Jimin.
Of course—it’s from Yoongi.
Jimin gently tears it off, and reads the single sentence scribbled on.
There’s no way he’s going to function correctly if he keeps this to himself.
It’s really stupid, but he grins.
Granted, it could take a while for them to ask genuine questions about how to go forward, but Jimin’s always trusted in Yoongi.
It comes naturally.
He rearranges Yoongi’s words in his mind.