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High and Drop

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“Sir!”

He makes a turn for the long hallway and spots the man walking fast, head down but unmistakable in the long, striking baby blue coat. The sound of his raised voice gets lost in the wheels of carry-ons, squeaking soles and some kid crying for his mother to come pick it up.

“Sir!” he tries again, having picked up his pace and drawing slightly closer.

Nothing. Someone else turns around but not his guy. Jimin huffs in annoyance, not exactly in the mood to run around the airport halls and draw attention, before resigning and speeding up into a light jog.

“Sir,” he calls once more, mostly back to his casual volume, when he’s just a few feet behind him. The man’s head shoots up and he turns around disorientedly for a moment before his eyes finally land on Jimin’s. “You forgot your passport!”

Jimin holds it up proudly because he just saved this guy some nerves and a lot of paperwork. And it does genuinely make him happy, to help or brighten someone’s day, makes him do stuff that’s not a part of the job description too sometimes. He expects, or maybe not because he’s been doing this for a while and knows people are of all different kinds and they can be dicks, that the guy’s face will lighten up with realization and relief. But truthfully he can barely see anything behind the black mask and cap that’s pushing his hair into his eyes and casting a shadow over them. It bums him just a tiny bit and only because he seemed nice on board, with the hat off and mask pushed down his chin. Private but polite and nice and like he would smile meekly in this situation.

“Oh shit,” the man mutters under his breath before carefully gripping the passport with long, thick knuckled fingers,“thanks...thanks a lot.” It’s a little muffled by the mask but sounds sincere, startled. “That would have been a pain.”

“Of course, no problem,” Jimin retorts with practiced respectfulness but he can’t stop his smile from spreading a little too wide, into an amused grin. He’s that type, a scatterbrained businessman, too preoccupied with important thoughts and tasks Jimin will never understand to keep the simple things in check.

“Where did you find it? I must be getting senile.”

“In the coat compartment. It must have fallen out of your pocket. Happens all the time, the important thing is that we’ve returned it to its owner in time,” Jimin smiles again, trying to come across reassuring. He’s just about to wish him good bye and turn around after a few seconds of awkward lingering when the man speaks out again.

“Hey– um, sorry. I’ve never seen a male flight attendant on Korean before.”

It’s offhanded and Jimin isn’t sure what he wants to hear back but it delights him anyways. It always does when a passenger is chatty and even more so when it’s someone he doesn’t expect it from.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a new thing. I think I’m the only one doing first class right now but it should expand even more. New safety measures.”

“So you can stop a terrorist attack?” the man questions, sweet rather than mocking.

“Theoretically. I know what to do in that situation.”

“Ah, right...that’s good. I hope I’ll fly with you next time then.” And he can hear the smile there, even if he can’t see it.

‘We’re all trained the same’ is what he wants to say at first but instead he smiles back, “Okay, I’ll be looking forward to it. Have a nice day, sir, and thank you for flying with Korean Air.”

“You too. Thanks again,” he chuckles, probably at the cliché phrase, and waves the passport for clarification before turning around and soon disappearing behind another corner.


  

It’s Yoongi’s second flight to Hong Kong in a row for the same closing deal. Same cab ride straight from the Gangnam office that Yoona booked for him because he’s incapable of simple human tasks apparently, same smell of clean nothing in the airport lounge, same turquoise reclining seats on board and he has to remind himself to feel grateful because it’s that monotonous. It all reminds him of the fiasco last time when he left his passport and the sweet flight attendant ran after him to return it and tried to make him feel like he wasn’t a messy idiot. It was so unlike him to be that disorderly but at the same time it didn’t surprise him, all the recent overtime work leaving him drained and floating mindlessly. This time he clutches the passport in his hand, staying aware of it the whole isle walk, and then places it in the compartment by his seat and sets a notification on his phone to remind him to collect it.

He’s sitting patiently through the safety instructions he knows by heart now when he spots him in the gap between the staff area curtains. In the perfectly fitted black suit and seat matching tie he laughs quietly at something his colleague says and Yoongi can’t help but stare. What a sweet smile, he thinks, he’d never seen a male flight attendant on Korean before this guy. All he wants now is for the instructions and take off to be over and the crew to start doing their rounds in hopes he will get a chance to get a few words out of him. It’s silly, of course, but Yoongi has always had these fascinations with people. Or more accurately very certain individuals that grip him for mostly unknown reasons and hold his attention whatever they do, whatever casual thing they say.

 

“Good afternoon, sir. Would you like anything to drink?”

It doesn’t surprise him, the melodic voice, because he has been carefully following his journey through the isle all the way here. Park Ji Min, his name tag reads. Yoongi didn’t notice before when he served him. Although he immediately noted the attendant, it was only when he ran after him with the passport that the little fascination thing kicked in, as the man stood in front of him, perfectly groomed and smiling a little less refined than on board.

“Afternoon, just sparkling water for now please,” Yoongi says as he wonders whether Park Ji Min remembers him because the smile he is giving him now is that same thing as when he wished him a nice day last time, with the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Of course,” he retorts before bending over to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of one of those ridiculously expensive waters and pouring a small amount into a glass, “here you go.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi smiles back at him, although it makes him a little nervous and he definitely doesn’t look half as good as the guy with his thick pink lips and parted dark brown hair cascading in a perfect soft wave.

“Anything else I can do for you? Should I remind you to grab your passport after the landing?”

So Park Ji Min remembers him.

It’s tempting to say yes because it would give them another reason to talk but he can’t allow it in the end. It’s already too much that he has all these people taking care of him, his assistant Yoona, his mother, always saying he should rest and doing things for him.

“Thank you, it’s all right. I have it under control this time,” he reassures him in the end, patting the compartment next to him.

“Okay.” the man laughs cheekily. “If you change your mind or need anything else, just let me know.”

The notification works out well in the end, although Yoongi doesn’t even need it. He doesn’t have much chance to speak with him because he’s not that much of a weirdo to keep ordering things just for the sake of it. But when he’s leaving the plane and waves the passport up as he says his goodbyes, he flashes him a thumbs up and a warm, amused grin and it sticks out in Yoongi’s mind, brightening the dull day

 

The meeting goes smooth. Yoongi is a true master of bravado and playing confident, could probably get an Oscar for the constant show, a real method actor. Both parties agree to sign the deal in less than an hour so he grabs a quick dinner with his client, some higher up in the law department of Nikon, and then excuses himself in favor of taking a bath and getting a late night drink.

The hotel bar plays buttery jazz songs and the low chatter and glass clinking of a small number of guests fit right into the melody, playing up a familiar, sentimental atmosphere. It should feel desperate to sit there by himself, drinking martini and looking around carefully but Yoongi finds that the hotel ambience is much more forgiving, filled with other lone travelers in their own bubbles.

It’s close to midnight and Yoongi is contemplating finishing his last drink and going back to his room to get some sleep when the door opens again to let someone in. And like every time, his eyes turn towards it to watch the newcomer, no reason in particular, just his curiosity and maybe boredom. But he has to double take this time because it’s Park Ji Min walking through and he looks so different in the casual white t-shirt and tight black jeans but carries himself with the same spring in his step. Suddenly Yoongi is ordering another martini.

The man looks around the bar presumably to find a place to sit and it doesn’t take long in the now almost empty space for him to lock eyes with Yoongi. There is a flash of surprise or maybe amusement, because it is kind of amusing, the number of times they’ve bumped into each other in the last two weeks, as complete strangers. But then he grins at him a little shy and bows his head in acknowledgement before scurrying over to one of the low tables with comfortable armchairs and settling into it. Yoongi only notices he has been carrying a laptop when he places it on the table carefully.

Something about the coincidence tells Yoongi the universe wants them to talk and even as he scoffs at his own thought, never having been one to believe in fate and all that other spiritual bullshit, he thinks he can’t miss the opportunity.

“Excuse me,” he says to the waiter passing by him, “Could you please ask the man over there what he wants and tell him it’s on me?”

“Of course, I can ask if he’s all right with that,” the waiter nods carefully as not to get Yoongi’s hopes up but Yoongi is...confident, yes, that. Not in many things but in the instinct that tells him Park Ji Min will accept.

And Yoongi’s instincts are rarely wrong so soon Park Ji Min is hesitantly making his way over to him with a glass of red wine and the laptop left behind.

“Um...hello,” he says, hand leaning lightly on the stool next to him, and it’s clear he’s a little unsure how to treat him in the different setting. Not that Yoongi knows much better.

“Hi,” he points to the glass. “‘S for the passport. Thanks again.”

Nice play, Min Yoongi. That actually makes sense.

“It was really nothing. Like I said, happens all the time, specially with people like you,” he retorts, voice soft.

”People like me?”

“Oh, sorry, that sounded wrong. I didn’t– You just seem like the type to have a lot of professional shit to worry about,” he quickly backtracks himself and it makes Yoongi chuckle, the way he raises his hands in defence. Cute. He understands what he means, the certified pricks from business and first class honing their ego by having people wipe their asses for them.

“Yeah, I guess you’re not wrong. Still, I hate when I lose control over the simple stuff.”

Park Ji Min frowns gently.

“So what is it that you do? If it’s okay to ask.”

Yoongi pats the chair’s soft cushioning just shy of his hand. “Are you just gonna stand here?”

“Right,” he giggles as he pulls out the stool and settles onto it gracefully, wine still in one hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way.”

Jimin. Just Jimin.

“Yoongi, nice to meet you.”

“I know,” Jimin admits and something in Yoongi’s stomach shifts with delight. “Saw your passport...So, Yoongi, what do you do?”

“Aah, yeah. I do business law.”

“Shit,” Jimin retracts his glass from his lips, nodding slowly. A drop of red shines on his lower lip and he wipes at it with his thumb. “That does sound important.”

“Nah, not any more important than any other job.”

Jimin mulls it over for a moment so Yoongi sips on his martini, the taste dry on his tongue, and observes the soft curves of his side profile and the bobbing of his adam’s apple.

“Do you travel a lot?” he asks finally, turning his face all the way back towards him.

“Depends on what a lot means, I’d imagine you have different standards.”

Jimin shakes his head and laughs, teeth perfectly white and intense eyes softening and almost disappearing.

“But yeah, usually I say I do, compared to most people. I’m a senior associate specializing in international deals so I have to oversee a lot of them personally.”

“Huh,” Jimin’s lips go slack when he says it. “You don’t look like a senior anything, to be completely honest. How old are you?”

It’s a little bold and Yoongi can tell Jimin is slowly shedding off his work related reservations. It doesn’t surprise him, wouldn’t be a new client if they didn’t tell him he looked young or even mistake him for a trainee, and he doesn’t think much of it at all. He looks the way he looks and although he cares to always be neat and elegant, it doesn’t hold a lot of value for him.

“I’m thirty-two, what about you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Fuck.

“How long have you been flying?"

“A little over four years,” Jimin says after a moment of thinking and Yoongi notes his little habit of facing up when he does so.

“Wow...Isn’t it exhausting, dealing with all the people like that?”

“Not dealing with people. I think I like people, most of the time. But the long hours are rough sometimes.”

Jimin finishes his glass and Yoongi asks if he wants another one. Jimin agrees.

“Do you like your job?” he asks when the bartender brings it over.

Yoongi’s favourite question, really. If he only knew the answer himself.

“I don’t hate it.”

Jimin hums understandingly.

“It’s a job and I treat it as that. I appreciate where it got me but the job itself, it’s not like I’m having a blast writing emails and preparing contracts. But like I said, it’s a job. Whose job is actually fun?

“I kinda think mine is,” Jimin says, a proud tinge to his voice.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. You’re one of the chosen few.”

It seems inconsiderate coming from someone like him but he trusts Jimin to know what he means.

“It suits someone like you.”

“What do you mean?” Jimin smirks at him openly now and Yoongi’s instincts are too good for him to miss the flirty challenge in his eyes.

“You’re good with people. Pleasant and thoughtful...exciting.”

Jimin takes a sip of his wine and drinks in the words.

“I think you’re much more exciting than I am.”

Yoongi thinks exciting is a really good compliment. Moments pass in silence. He could fill it with pointless questions, has gotten real good at small talk, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. They both drink up and Jimin smiles at him gingerly.

“What are you doing here with your laptop, anyways?” he asks finally, pointing to the device, still open on a table nearby. It’s a bit of a slow down but it genuinely interests him.

“I’m trying to study a little. I want to improve my Japanese.”

“Wow, you’re diligent. Studying in a bar, huh?

“I’m not doing much studying though, am I?” he giggles sweetly. “I just felt like coming out today cause this– the hotel looks so fancy. We don’t usually stay in hotels like this but there were some last minute flight changes, all hotels booked, yada yada. And I got lucky.”

Yoongi realizes with shame he didn’t even think twice about how Jimin was able to afford such a luxurious place. He asks how long is he staying.

“Two nights, have a flight to Malaysia after. Shit…’m not looking forward to that, I could really get used to this,” he says in a lighthearted tone, stretching over the low backrest of the stool. But something in Yoongi shifts because he’s too old to let chances slip by and too damn honest for his own good. Sometimes that works better in the commercial law world than his personal life but he goes with it anyways.

“Jimin,” it’s the first time he says his name and it’s electric on his tongue, “do you want to come up to my room?”

“Yeah.”

He says it just like he’s talking about his groceries. A straight answer to a straight question. Yoongi doesn’t know what to say back. Should he thank him?

“Okay,” is the brilliant answer he comes up with and Jimin giggles at him and then finishes his wine in one gulp.

“Okay,” he retorts, still smilling, “I’m ready.”

 

Yoongi lights up a cigarette on the balcony after Jimin tells him he doesn’t mind. He stands outside in nothing but his thin black turtleneck and blends into the dark, shivers going down his spine and tightness building under his chest. Jimin looks like an angel behind the glass, illuminated by the ceiling lights and roaming around, fingers tasting the marble surfaces. It takes him a few moments before he decides to join Yoongi and he wraps his arms around himself when the cold air hits him.

“Your room is higher than mine,” he says, leaning over the railing and looking into the depth of grey and fairy lights all over the city. “I don’t have a balcony either…Still it’s like the nicest room I’ve ever stayed in,” he rambles, a little tipsy, and Yoongi just hums in response, tapping his cigarette to let the ashes fall down into the void.

“Let me pay for your hotel next time.”

“What?” Jimin looks away from the view to stare at him bemusedly.

Yoongi stubs the cigarette out to throw it into a glass half full of water on the small table and moves to lean on the railing a few feet away from him.

“I just think you’re lovely and I,” he stutters a little and has to clear his throat, “I really enjoyed our talk. I think you deserve to stay in hotels like this all the time. I can provide that.” His heart thrums in his chest as he lays it out in the open, to be rejected, judged.

There is a long pause and Jimin seems to think the offer over, or at least that’s what Yoongi hopes for.

“What do you want for it?” he says after a while.

“Nothing. I’m not gonna pressure you into anything. I just like doing it.”

There are certain ideas and expectations that come with...sponsoring someone. But Yoongi would never offer it to anyone not worth his time so if the person has reservations and wants to get to know him better first, he is more than willing to give it to them.

“Is it some weird kink thing? I don’t want your money.” Jimin still sounds more surprised than anything.

“What do you want then?”

“I thought that we just…,” he loses his train of thought, perhaps purposefully.

Yoongi is staring at the tips of his dress shoes when a delicate hand settles on his forearm placed on the railing and he feels the heat of Jimin’s body before lifting his head back up to meet his eyes. The kiss isn’t delicate at all. It’s open mouthed and teasing and hinting at what Jimin really came here for. Jimin smells of vanilla shampoo and spicy cologne and there’s a note of wine on his tongue and his lips are so so soft.

“I don’t want your money for it,” he repeats when they part to take a breath and look at each other and then Jimin is sinking down to his knees, right there on the cold tiled floor.

Yoongi understands. He knows there are repercussions with being paid for sexual services, or any other interactions that come for free in a healthy relationship, and it’s not for everybody. He pushes away the wave of guilt that washes over him, knowing how fucked up it is to be so used to his intimate relations working like a service exchange. It doesn’t matter now because he’s thinking with his dick and it twitches lightly as Jimin settles his hands on either side of his belt buckle.

He takes his time palming him through the slacks and mouthing at the small expanse of skin he reveals just above the belt and it gets Yoongi almost fully hard.

“Jimin,” he says, stern but a little breathless, carding his hand through his hair and then settling on his cheek. His thumb runs across Jimin’s full lower lip and Jimin looks up at him. So so soft. “Come on.”

Jimin listens. He works on the belt buckle fast but careful and Yoongi suddenly can’t stop staring at how small his hands are, dainty and pliable compared to the robust silver and compared to Yoongi’s own cold hard hand enveloping half of his face.

He hisses when Jimin takes his cock out and it’s hit by the cool air. But Jimin’s mouth is so warm and he sucks him off eagerly and like he wants to show off his hard work and the thought makes him jump. His hand travels to Jimin’s hair again, silky under the touch and he pushes him down, pushes the limit ever so slightly, and then yanks him off. Jimin lets out something between a cough and a moan.

“I want to fuck you. Is that okay?”

Jimin wipes at his mouth and sits back on his heels fully, Yoongi’s hand still in his hair.

“Ye–yes.” His breathing is laboured and his lips stay parted as he looks up at him.

“Hmm. Can you go inside and strip?” he asks but it sounds more like a command and he curses himself for it.

“Strip?”

“Yeah, I want to watch you. You’re so...hot.”

Jimin giggles and it seems too cute and innocent for the situation but he stands up slowly anyways. “Okay.”

There is something about the idea of Yoongi hiding anonymously in the dark while Jimin sheds his clothes illuminated by the interior light, exposed to his hungry eyes that’s so tempting to him he suggests it without really thinking it through.

Jimin looks back at him as he walks through the door and he can tell he’s nervous and maybe a little insecure but also determined. He toes his sneakers and socks off first and leaves them in the corner unceremoniously before stepping in front of the glass panelling and facing him. It must be hard for him to make anything out in the darkness but he finally manages to find Yoongi’s eyes and look right into them before he grabs the hem of his t-shirt, fingers trembling, and reluctantly pulls it over his head.

Something glistens in the light and Yoongi realizes a piercing adorns Jimin’s belly button, right between the slight ridges of his taut abdomen. His frame is petite, narrow shoulders and lithe body, but his muscles are lightly defined as he stands behind the glass and hesitates what to do next. Yoongi strokes his own dick just a little harder and Jimin’s eyes wander down to it and the image seems to spur him on.

He licks his lips, seems like a nervous habit but in this situation it’s dirty and seductive. And then he’s working on the fly of his jeans and dragging them down his ass and thighs and Yoongi realizes how thick and muscular they are, probably carrying most of Jimin’s strength.

Jimin’s expression is pleading when he finishes tugging off his pants and finds him again. Part of Yoongi wants to just go over and touch him but what they’re doing now is even more fun and so he just nods towards Jimin’s underwear, grey boxer briefs already stained with a bit of precum from his hard cock.

Jimin figures it out and complies after a moment, hooking his thumbs in the waistband and pulling down. When he steps out of the underwear he stands coyly, unsure what to do with himself. He wraps his arms around his torso, then clasps them behind his back and rocks from side to side. His dick is short and thick, kind of like the rest of him, and it stands hard against his neatly trimmed hair.

For Yoongi it’s a conscious decision – okay, go now, he says to himself, still palming his dick loosely to stay hard in the cold. When he steps inside, Jimin is already on his way to meet him, seemingly pleased he doesn’t have to stand around awkwardly anymore, and he’s all hot tongue all over him before Yoongi even manages to slide the door close.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles into his skin. His hand gets caught on the piercing between their bodies, just two silver balls on a bar going through the top of his navel, and Jimin shudders. “This is cute,” he says and plays with it a little more until Jimin mewls into his ear.

Yoongi manages to guide them to the foot of the bed and he pulls away from Jimin and sits down, making room for him in between his thighs. The piercing is now in his peripheral vision and he bends down to lick around it and bite on it, tugging lightly.

“Oh, that’s–,” Jimin gasps and arches his back into it, “‘s really sensitive.”

“Good,” Yoongi smiles, good to know.

“Aren’t you gonna undress too?” Jimin questions pulling away and cocking his head to the side, hands still on Yoongi’s shoulders. And Yoongi kind of doesn’t want to. The dynamic feels comfortable like this, with Jimin bare in front of him and Yoongi fully dressed with just his dick out, hands skimming over his plump ass.

“I like it like this,” he says and kisses Jimin’s chest up to his nipple where he sucks on it.

“But–aah–I wanna see you too.” Jimin sounds cute and whiny and Yoongi hates himself for liking it so much.

“I look bad in this?” he teases, grabbing a handful of Jimin’s buttock and then smacking it playfully. Jimin gasps and almost falls forward, cock twitching.

“N–no...You look hot. If you looked bad then I wouldn’t have come here,” he retorts, a sassy lilt to his voice.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Then that’s good.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you were already fucking me though,” Jimin says with a laugh at his own joke and in a second he’s pushing Yoongi back and straddling him. Yoongi resists the urge to fight and lets him, appreciating the way he enjoys himself rubbing his ass all over his hard cock.

“You’re eager.”

“You’re slow...Do you have lube?”

“Uh, check the drawer for the hotel stuff.” Of course Yoongi doesn’t have anything with him, except for an old condom or two in his wallet. Things don’t usually go like this with him.

Jimin does as he’s told and stretches over him to look for some complimentary condoms and lube sachets. Yoongi still strokes the supple skin of his buttocks mindlessly but moves from underneath him to rest against the headboard. Suddenly he’s well aware of how hot he feels under the turtleneck so he shucks it off abruptly. When Jimin turns around with the packets in hand he can see the smile on his face.

“Huh! You look good. Your skin is so nice,” he almost marvels at him as he strokes over Yoongi’s chest. Then he bends down to link their lips together and they kiss filthy and greedy, all tongue and clashing teeth. Jimin climbs over him again without ever interrupting it and they both hiss when their cocks rub against each other in the process.

“Finger yourself,” Yoongi says when they do break apart, stroking the sides of his thighs.

“Oh. You really like to watch.”

“You’re pretty. You should know.”

Jimin looks away bashfully but the corners of his mouth twist and his eyes light up, clearly enjoying the praise. He finds the lube and tears the silver open with careful fingers and then he’s reaching behind himself and it all looks so...like Yoongi would be happy to just jerk off to the image in front of him. Maybe he does really like to watch, he thinks, you can always discover new kinks.

Jimin’s face is scrunched up in concentration and Yoongi reaches up to brush away the hair plastered on his forehead with a thin layer of sweat to see better.

“So pretty,” he mutters, “You gonna do another one?”

Jimin mewls at the words and nods. He shuffles around a bit and then he’s biting on his lower lip and moving again and even when Yoongi can’t see what he’s doing, it’s easy to tell.

At some point he falls forward and whines next to Yoongi’s ear.

“I’m gonna do three.”

“Good–” Yoongi thinks hard if he should say it or not but apparently not hard enough. “Good boy.”

But maybe he also thinks too much because Jimin shudders visibly and whines again.

“Yes–that–yeah,” he mumbles and Yoongi’s own dick twitches in his palm. Jimin rises back up and coats his fingers in more lube before pushing in again. He does this thing – looks up and purses his lips and almost shuts his eyes – and it’s inappropriately cute and Yoongi really really likes watching it

“You like being called that? Like being a good boy?”

Jimin’s fingers are going fast now, abdomen clenched and pecks and arms flexing and relaxing.

“Yes–fuck, I like it...I’m ready.”

It’s way too quick, Yoongi thinks. Jimin is impatient and trying to prove something, most likely, and Yoongi doesn’t want to hurt him, not like this.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, “Come on, look at me–aah–I’m good–”

“You’re good what?” It takes a lot of willpower for him to withdraw the hand from his own cock to stroke over the tight muscles of Jimin’s abdomen. And he is looking, the whole time.

“I’m a–a good boy.” It’s Jimin that looks away, face red, maybe from the hard work, maybe from embarrassment. And Yoongi groans in response, his whole body tensing, loving hearing that way too much.

“That’s right,” when he speaks he sounds hoarse and out of breath. “Now be a good boy and get the condom.”

Jimin moves at the speed of light, pulling out his fingers and gasping at the sensation, then wiping them on his thigh and reaching for the packet. Yoongi takes it out of his hand to roll the condom on because he is too slick and shaky.

“You ready?” Jimin asks and Yoongi laughs.

“Yeah, do your thing, pretty boy.” God, sometimes he can be greasy as fuck.

“Kay,” Jimin’s teeth catch on his fleshy lip again and his eyes squeeze shut as he lines himself up with Yoongi’s cock and lowers down, half way at first. The visual is a lot but what’s even more enticing is the warmth that envelopes Yoongi, his neglected cock throbbing inside. Jimin’s thighs quiver with the strain and his hands fist into the sheets. It’s tight but he keeps his lips pursed and continues down slowly, until he has Yoongi all the way inside and they both breathe out in relief.

“Fuck– you’re tight.”

Jimin hums and raises up slightly before slipping back down.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah, ‘s just...a lot. You’re big.”

“Okay, take your time,” Yoongi says as he strokes Jimin’s sides up and down and he would be a liar if he said the words didn’t flatter him. But Jimin is stubborn and he lifts up again gritting his teeth, and then again and again, and slowly there comes a rhythm to it and Jimin’s face untwists, mouth falling into a silent ‘o’.

The way he rides him is...enthusiastic, confident. Like Jimin has finally found himself in his element, ass perched out and hips going hard and fast and then coming down into slow circles. His cock stays fully hard throughout, bouncing around, and Yoongi tugs on it from time to time and then switches to the piercing he can’t take his eyes off. His other hand he keeps on the dip between Jimin’s thighs and hips, guiding him through silently.

“Shit, I’m–” he breathes out at some point and leans back on his palms, hips staggering.

“You gonna cum?” Yoongi asks and he sees the opportunity. Jimin is getting tired and sloppy so he holds him down, fingers digging into the flesh of his sides and ass, and fucks up.

Jimin moans in response, high pitched and cut off. He looks exquisite like this, upper body stretched and glistening and head tipped back in a way that accentuates his sharp jaw.

“Yes–aah–like that.”

Yoongi’s fingers dig deeper and he fucks up into him faster, just how Jimin seems to favour.

“You like that? When I fuck you?” it comes out more breathless and discomposed than he’s expecting. He feels himself close too, stomach tightening and legs starting to shake involuntarily.

“Yeah, so–please…harder,” Jimin pleads like he’s been made for this and that’s Yoongi’s weakness. He almost growls when he gives it to him, fucking up into him as fast and hard as he can

“Good–fuck–good boy.”

Jimin whines helplessly and his hand flies to his neglected cock, now all slick with precum. He doesn’t even jerk it, just grips it almost crushingly and Yoongi stares wide eyed as ropes of white spurt over his fingers and some land on his belly. Jimin grips himself through it and Yoongi holds him down and relishing in the scene fucks him messily, making Jimin mewl and babble incoherently with overstimulation.

He cums not long after with a string of curses, buried deep inside.

They stay like that for a while, breaths evening out, before Jimin pulls off with a hiss and falls onto the other side of the bed sprawled out like a starfish.

“You good?” Yoongi asks because he doesn’t come up with anything better.

“Yup. Great,” Jimin retorts with a blissed out expression and eyes closed. The thought of him looking angelic crosses Yoongi’s mind again and he tries to concentrate on something else really quickly. He picks himself up from the bed with a sigh and gets rid of the condom and then takes off his pants and underwear that is a mess of precum, Jimin’s cum and sweat.

“And now you’re getting naked,” Jimin mutters, accusatory.

“I’m taking a shower.”

Jimin hums, unconvinced. “Can I shower here too?” he says after a minute of thinking and watching him rummage around.

“Sure–of course.”

 

When Yoongi leaves the bathroom with wet hair and clean boxers on, Jimin lays on his side curled up into himself and breathing evenly, mouth slack. He calls out to him a few times, voice soft, and Jimin doesn’t move an inch.

Yoongi observes him for a while. He’s naked and peaceful and all of a sudden he feels a distinct responsibility to not wake him. He doesn’t do things like this, one night stands with random strangers, but he’s pretty sure tender and invested is not how he’s supposed to feel. But Jimin is the first person in a while that he’s slept with without money and negotiation. It’s not like Yoongi even tries to date these days so he has no one else to blame but himself but the realization still hits him hard. That it felt so good and so natural and Jimin was actually instigating a lot of what happened. Jimin who he has a weird fascination with.

Yoongi throws his coat on and wraps it around himself before stepping onto the balcony to have a smoke. His watch says it’s almost 3 am but he feels surprisingly energized physically. He stares into the night and tries not to think so hard about everything, about how Jimin rejected his offer because he didn’t want any strings, about what it’s going to feel like tomorrow. About how Jimin likes to be called a good boy...

He steps over their clothes scattered on the floor and hangs his coat back up, then goes to brush his teeth. When he turns off the lights and slips under the covers silently, Jimin stirs.

“Oh...um...Yoongi?” What he says is barely discernible.

“Yeah, ‘s me...You can stay here.”

“S–ry,” he mumbles into the pillow, laying mostly on his stomach now.

“I don’t mind, just sleep. We can get breakfast in the morning.”

“‘Kay...like eggs.”

Yoongi laughs softly and turns to face the windows to slowly let the sleep take over him.

Chapter Text

“How was New York?” Taehyung asks out of breath as they both near the 30 minute goal on the treadmill.

 

“Shit. Had to work the tarmac for 3 hours for free ‘cause of a snow storm.”

 

“You ruin all my dreams.”

 

He slams the stop button right when the timer hits 30:01 and hunches over the handrails as the belt slows down abruptly.

 

“You’re an idealist. Just don’t go there in the winter,” Jimin says. He keeps his pace up as he speaks because even though it’s uncomfortable, he knows he can push himself a little more.

 

“If I ever get to go there,” Taehyung mutters before he steps off the treadmill. “God, I hate leg day. Stop showing off.”

 

Jimin laughs and turns the speed down into a cool off jog. “‘M not.”

 

“Our time together is precious and you want to spend it in the gym,” he tuts. His hair is visibly longer than last time Jimin saw him and he makes a note to remind him to get it trimmed.

 

“You say it like I’m dying,” Jimin retorts and he finally jumps off the machine. “Wanna go in the sauna?”

 

“Yes, please,” Taehyung almost moans out, bending over to stretch his hamstrings. “I miss you, you know?” he says to his knees.

 

“Tae,” Jimin coos as something jabs into his heart. He leans on the wall and uncaps his water bottle with his teeth to sip on it as he watches Taehyung trying to reach his toes. “I miss you too. We have three full days, let’s make the most out of them.”

 

Jimin always stretches thoroughly, concentrating on all the muscles in his body he’s worked on that day but also getting into the splits and side splits which is a skill he doesn’t need anymore but doesn’t want to lose. Taehyung just scrolls through his phone in the meantime, used to the precise routine.

 

They shower and wrap towels around their waists chatting about what’s new with Hoseok and what Taehyung is working on and then head for the herbal sauna. The heat hits Jimin right in the face but he breathes deeply through it, absorbing the mix of scents into his nostrils and revelling in it. They’re the only two people there, the perk of going before noon on a weekday.

 

“You know what’s great though? With you always working and Hoseok off with his new girl?” Taehyung says offhandedly and Jimin knows him too well to not sense what this is going to be about.

 

“Please don’t tell me you’re fucking people in my bed,” he sighs.

 

“Not in your bed. But I’m telling you I haven’t had this much sex since the first year of college.”

 

“Damn. Congrats. To be fair you in college was like an artsy nerd trying to fuck the lit teacher for two years.”

 

“Listen. You weren’t exactly helping,” Taehyung objects, trying to conceal his smile, “I was heavily into girls back then and all you wanted to do was go to gay bars ‘cause of your new found freedom.”

 

And he’s right, college was the peak of Jimin’s sexual openness. It was sneaking out of wild student parties just to go to Itaewon and hook up with men that were only interesting on two bottles of soju. Or feeling hurt and exhausted after quickies with guys so repressed they wouldn’t even kiss him or touch his dick. But he’s so different now, I don’t have the time, he always says, but mostly it’s because he’s bored by it, almost disgusted. The culture has nothing new to offer him...maybe except for weird rich lawyers that pay for sex but we all veer off our paths sometimes.

 

“So what’s your ratio now?” he asks, pushing away the thought.

 

“Hmm...This month it’s about 7:3 for guys,” Taehyung says, very serious.

 

“This month? How many people exactly are we talking?”

 

“Okay, it’s more like 2 guys and 1 girl but I was talking about my thinking process,” Taehyung dials back, “What about you?”

 

Jimin feels a bead of sweat run down through the center of his face and he makes no move to dab it away, respecting the full experience.

 

“My ratio? ‘S always the same,” he says, matter of fact.

 

“I mean how many people.”

 

“Uh…”

 

What?” Taehyung’s eyes almost pop out of his head before Jimin manages to say anything because he smells the hesitation.

 

“It’s stupid, I don’t know what came over me. I slept with this guy in Hong Kong,” he admits. It was just a matter of time before he would tell him because it’s Taehyung and they tell each other everything.

 

Taehyung turns to him with his whole body and beams with amusement and curiosity, skin flawless and shining and teeth pearly white

 

“No way! Are you going back to your slutty phase?”

 

“Shut up. I don’t know, it was weird. He was a passenger on my plane and then we met at the hotel, you know, the ritzy one I told you about?”

 

Taehyung hums. “On accident or you set it up?”

 

“On accident. We just got talking at the hotel bar and then...he offered to pay for my hotel next time,” he makes air quotes around the words, “to sleep with him.”

 

“Oh shit,” Taehyung breathes out, his mind hard to read.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, did you take it?”

 

Logically he should have, at least looking back at it now. Maybe he could have been set up in nice hotels on his every abroad stay just for doing a little show for Yoongi and getting fucked properly. And Jimin tries to be logical, he admires cold hard logic. But sometimes his pride gets in the way and his pride is a big muscular motherfucker obscuring the whole view and really, he has no plans to change that.

 

“No! Of course not. I would feel like a fucking whore.”

 

“But you still slept with him?” He already knows the answer but Jimin doesn’t get annoyed with the prodding.

 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. When I started talking to him, I was almost immediately thinking ‘I’m gonna be wild today, I’m gonna fuck this guy’ so when he said it, I was just like ‘okay, weird, but I’m still doing it.’ He was so nice about it too, he said shit like I was lovely and I deserved to stay in hotels like this all the time.”

 

“Are you joking?” Taehyung exclaims, eyes still wide as he runs his hand through his hair and it stays in place, sticky with the sweat. “He totally wanted to be your sugar daddy! Economically you lost.”

 

“Economics don’t work the same in sex,” Jimin retorts but a small part of him is yet again rethinking his decision. Not so much because he left without an extra tip but more so because he felt so out of his comfort zone he slipped out without a number or anything else that could connect him to Yoongi. To Yoongi who fucked him like he hadn’t been fucked in a while even though he wasn’t even half trying.

 

“No, economics are actually very similar to sex, especially in this age. It’s all just a continuous chain of everyone trying to fulfill their momentary need based on their value. What makes it different is when you throw feelings into it.”

 

“Aren’t there always at least some feelings involved in sex?”

 

Taehyung just rolls his eyes and it makes Jimin chuckle.

 

“Come on, I know you’re not that much of a cold hearted prick.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” he sighs with a shrug and a wave of hand. “It works in theory though. So what kind of feelings were involved with…?”

 

“Yoongi. His name was Yoongi,” he clarifies. Really, what feelings were there with Yoongi? Attraction, sure. Interest. Mystery.

 

“Just,” he breathes out, “I thought he was nice and cute. And kinda awkward but in an endearing way. I actually remembered him from a flight before ‘cause he forgot his passport on the plane then. But I– the thing with the money fucking startled me, he really wasn’t the type. Or at least what I imagine as the type. Like old and ugly.”

 

Taehyung hums and thinks it over for a moment.

 

“Exactly. That’s weird. Why would a cute nice guy go around offering people money for sex which I’m sure he could get for free? There must be something wrong with him,” he says finally. “Did he have a micro dick?”

 

He asks with a completely straight face which adds to the impact, Jimin folding in half with laughter and slapping his thigh.

 

“No. His dick was good,” he says when he recovers. “The sex was good, I really don’t get it.”

 

And Jimin thinks about the way Yoongi went rigid for a moment when he pushed him down just lightly and the way he called him a good boy. And then he thinks about how none of it matters because he’s probably not going to see him ever again and how he will settle for jerking off to the memory later.

 

“How did it end?”

 

“I fell asleep in his bed and then we went for breakfast.”

 

“Oh fucking christ. When’s the wedding?” Taehyung jokes, the tone of his voice overly dramatic. “No seriously, what’s next? Are you meeting up with him?”

 

“Nothing’s next. It was a one time thing. It was kinda awkward after, I don’t think he’s looking for someone like me.”


 

Jimin measures everything in flights so when he sees Yoongi again he knows it’s around 25 since the last time. For someone a number they will never reach in their life, for Jimin a mere month. It’s also his third flight in the last 24 hours and he’s completely over it when he boards, running on an autopilot.

 

Yoongi sits in the last window seat and Jimin is in charge of the crotch watch for his row which means when he spots him he has about a minute to compose himself and work out what he’s going to say or do.

 

He gets like this with every hint of an awkward situation and meeting a past hookup or love interest is on the top of that list for him. His knees go wobbly and the tie seems too tight around his neck. It’s not that big of a deal, he knows, they’re both in the same boat but for some reason Jimin feels like the idiot, like the smaller, awkward one in the moment. There is just something nerve wracking about facing someone that has seen him in his most vulnerable state, naked, open, needy. And it’s even worse when he’s been jerking off to the image of that person doing all sorts of questionable things to him till this day.

 

He wants it to be coincidental, wants Yoongi to be the one to do the first step, see him first and approach first or maybe just wave him over, just so he has a blueprint for how to act. But Yoongi is oblivious, eyes closed and expression serene, as Jimin inevitably draws near through the narrow aisle, not knowing whether he’d want him to be friendly or pretend they have never seen each other.

 

The person sitting right in front of Yoongi leans in to ask if there will be any further delay and Jimin very consciously answers a bit louder than usual. And it works. When he’s done and he turns around, Yoongi is looking at him with an unsure smile and he’s open about it, not shying away when Jimin catches him.

 

“Hey,” he says. His mask is yet again pulled down to his chin and he’s wearing a blue and white checkered shirt that fits snuggly over his shoulders and chest, making them just that little bit rounder.

 

It’s enough for Jimin to ease up a little bit although he can’t yet stop the shaky fingers. Yoongi wants to be calm and friendly and he is happy to go along with that.

 

“Hello, sir,” he answers playfully with a small laugh. “How are you?”

 

“Good. Better now.” There is bluntness to his words that clashes with how private and mysterious he comes across.

 

“Oh…” Jimin giggles, not sure what to say back but he likes the way Yoongi treats him. Like he still thinks Jimin is pretty and nice and worth his attention.

 

“How are you?”

 

“Good– I mean tired but I should finally be getting some sleep in Tokyo so…,” he knows he word vomits but Yoongi seems to enjoy it thoroughly so he doesn’t stop himself.

 

He hums and then looks him up and down with a poor attempt to hide it. “You look...nice,” he says and it’s a little more nervous now.

 

It definitely doesn’t help to calm Jimin’ nerves.

 

“Please make sure your seatbelt is on correctly, I gotta…” he says after a moment of silence and makes a move to get back to the front.

 

“Of course,” Yoongi replies like he actually forgot Jimin is here on duty for a moment.

 

“Anything you need?” Jimin also checks himself back.

 

“No, no. I’m good, Jimin.”

 

He likes the way his name rolls off his tongue, soft and gravelly.

 

He looks at Yoongi hesitantly from the galley while the safety instructions go on and soon Yoongi looks for him too. They smile, polite and unassuming, and both look away. It doesn’t take long before Jimin’s head is filled with scenarios of Yoongi complimenting him, Yoongi asking him out, Yoongi fucking him in the seat he’s strapped to during the take off. But he can’t be the one to make any moves, it would simply not be right at this time and occasion, even if he was bold enough, even if he was actually sure this is what he wants, not just involuntary mental images.

 

When the cabin crew seatbelt lights flick off, he picks himself up to finish preparing his trolley and Minji who is on board with him, perfectly styled as usual, cocks her head towards the back of the first class.

 

“What did he want?”

 

“Oh, that,” It catches Jimin off guard as he’s crouching down and checking the contents of the lower shelf, “he’s an...old friend of mine.”

 

Minji smirks lightly and shakes her head. “Right, an old friend.”

 

The truth is Jimin is not the first nor the last to have an “old friend” on a flight and Minji has had a fair share of hers. She doesn’t comment on it any further though, just goes back to check on the boiling water.

 

He flows through his row swiftly. The Seoul to Tokyo flight is only a little over two hours and people tend to be less demanding during those.

 

Yoongi is scribbling something on an edge of a newspaper when he approaches him.

 

“Just sparkling water, please,” he says when Jimin asks if he would like anything to drink.

 

Same as last time, Jimin remembers when he reaches for the chilled bottle and pours a generous amount into a glass before motioning to settle them both on Yoongi’s tray table. Yoongi, however, makes no move to put away the newspaper and Jimin’s gaze flickers to it, hands full.

 

And instead of quickly asking Yoongi to clear the table, he’s glued to a few handwritten words very purposefully turned towards him:

 

Come stay with me tonight? The Royal Park Shiodome after 8 pm

 

Yoongi is watching him intently when he looks up, waiting for a reaction. Jimin should decline. He has a day in Tokyo and he should spend it resting after a very long shift. But he is also horny and he wants Yoongi. This is the first time he admits it to himself fully. Yoongi is kind of weird but sometimes weird is good and Jimin can’t help but want him, want to unravel him a tiny bit more, want to just give into the pleasure he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about ever since their first night.

 

“Okay,” he says, voice small. It’s all he can muster up because he doesn’t want to promise anything, still slightly conflicted. But deep down he already knows he’s going to be there.

 

Yoongi smiles then, sweet and genuine, and reaches to clear the newspaper away without much care. “Great, thank you.”

 

It sounds like a polite phrase directed at the drink but he looks him straight in the eyes as he says it and they’re gentle and happy but also intense, trying to get the message across.

 

Jimin sets the water down and leaves without saying anything besides a few professional phrases, stomach twisted with a different sort of nerves. He’s excited and jittery now and he has to remind himself to keep a neutral expression as he tells himself he’s fucking crazy but Whatever, you’re young, you can have fun.


  

Jimin hates admitting when he puts particular effort in his looks but he does enjoy his reflection a bit more than usual tonight. He doesn’t have much on him so he opts for his well fitted work slacks and tucks in a basic black t-shirt. The simplicity seems to work in his favor, making him look more slender and elegant and less juvenile compared to the usual jeans and sneakers. He puts on the dress shoes he uses for work too. They are real leather, well made and paid for by the company.

 

His hair is parted on the side and blow dried to fall away from his face and he uses the opportunity to put in some of his favourite earrings he’s not allowed to wear on board. They are silver, a hoop and a cross and two studs, and they go with the delicate chain on his neck and the few clean rings, Jimin thinks. He enjoys jewellery a lot.

 

It’s almost 8 in the evening and he’s checking himself again just to make sure everything is set perfectly before he throws on a coat and heads for the train station. He’s staying in a hotel close to the Haneda airport, cheap but clean, and that means it will take him about half an hour to get to Yoongi’s hotel. It seems long away but also way too close and familiar tension builds up in his stomach because he is really doing this. It’s exciting though, and promising. Something he hasn’t felt in a while.

 

Jimin finds it easy to get around. His japanese is conversational and he’s been to Tokyo countless times so he doesn’t need to take an expensive cab or ask around.

 

Yoongi’s hotel is tall and intimidating and he’s standing in front of it so suddenly, lingering a little before stepping inside.

 

For some reason he says to the concierge he’s Yoongi’s business partner although he couldn’t give a care.

 

“He’s expecting you, room number 457,” he says after a quick conversation on the phone, expression blank and unassuming.

 

Jimin assumes he will have to knock after finding Yoongi’s room but the door is ajar so he steps in after a few hesitant seconds and wiping his sweaty hands on his thighs. It’s dimly lit and simple, with dark wooden furniture and cream walls, just like in most of these luxurious hotels, he imagines. Yoongi is standing with his back turned towards him in the first moment but he spins around as soon as he hears the movement, blinking slowly like he just woke up and Jimin is the light burning his eyes.

 

“Hi,” he says with a stupid little giggle he kind of hates but can’t stop as he lingers in the entryway.

 

“Jimin,” Yoongi beckons for him to come in so he closes the door behind himself and moves closer. “You came,” he says with a hint of surprise, “I’m glad. You look good, black suits you.”

 

His voice is gruff and he stays a few feet away from Jimin, fiddling with a drawer knob on a dresser.

 

Jimin smiles at the compliment. “Thank you.”

 

“Have you had anything to eat?”

 

“Not really,” he admits, “My eating schedule is kinda fucked up.”

 

“Do you want to order room service then? he offers and it surprises Jimin. He half expected for them to just go straight to sex but Yoongi makes it feel almost like they’re on a date in this sterile hotel room.

 

“Yeah, if you want to…”

 

“Sure. I also haven’t eaten.”

 

The last time they ate together was mostly silent. It seemed like there wasn’t much to say, or rather shouldn’t have been after a one night stand. It wasn’t exactly awkward, it was just the reality of it and neither of them made more than little effort to change it. Still, Jimin used his excuse of a meeting with a few colleagues and fled with a brief goodbye.

 

This time they’re a little clumsy but light and pleasant. They order sushi and some soba noodles and wine and sit at the desk, Jimin at the long edge and Yoongi crowding at the short next to him, making their knees knock every once in a while. Yoongi seems to spend more time asking questions and listening intently while observing him than actually eating, meanwhile Jimin shoves his mouth full between each sentence.

 

He is here for another deal with a company he can’t and probably doesn’t want to talk about. He’s been doing good, busy as usual which is something they can both agree on. But there is more. For one their love for music and the way it calms them down.

 

“Do you play any instruments?” Jimin asks.

 

“Piano, actually,” Yoongi smiles as he says it, a sense of pride coming off of him. “But I’m kinda rusty now.”

 

Jimin thinks there is no reason to be so humble, even though he hasn’t ever heard him. Somehow he just knows Yoongi is good, fingers long and practiced and mind focused. And even if he isn’t it would still be commendable.

 

“I don’t believe that,” he says playfully. “Shame there isn’t a piano here.”

 

“What about you?” Yoongi retorts, yet again shifting the attention away from himself. “Play anything?”

 

“I wish. I’ve always admired it so much.”

 

He might be imagining it but could swear a pleased smile flashes across Yoongi’s face when he says it.

 

“I danced modern for over ten years, piano was a huge part of that. My first crush was actually the teacher that always played at our showcases,” he explains with a giddy giggle and finishes his glass before helping himself to some more wine.

 

“Huh...See, I think that’s much more admirable. Your body–” Yoongi says, almost to himself, and then there is a long pause. He looks somewhere inconcrete and hums or mutters something under his breath. “I can tell.”

 

Jimin isn’t sure if he should thank him so he just giggles again.

 

“You should dance for me.”

 

“Oh no, that’s…’s embarrassing. I don’t know any routines anymore.”

 

“Please?” Yoongi asks with a raised brow and a smirk. It’s only half joking and a part of Jimin would like to comply but dancing has become a little too private for him as his moves lost their perfect sharpness and flow.

 

“I would dance if you played,” he concludes and Yoongi can’t say much to that.

 

They stay silent for a bit and it’s comfortable. Yoongi is apparently done with his noodles so he leans back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest nonchalantly and glass in one hand, and he observes openly. It’s impossible for Jimin to not feel the gaze on himself but he keeps the swift self-consciousness to himself.

 

“I brought you something,” Yoongi says suddenly and before Jimin manages to react properly he’s standing up and walking over to the dresser where lay a handful of trinkets Jimin hasn’t paid attention to. “I didn’t have much time and I wasn’t sure if you would actually come but–,” his voice is slightly unsure and he pauses, lingering by the dresser with a small bag clasped behind his back in a poor attempt to cover it.

 

“Yoongi,” Jimin breathes out, trying to process what is happening and how to respond. It’s not that he didn’t expect some kind of an offer after last time but this is different. This is not something he can dismiss in one sentence and not mention again because it’s clearly a very real physical present that Yoongi has already bought for him.

 

“I just thought it would suit you well,” Yoongi finishes and steps towards Jimin’s chair to finally reveal the bag and offer it to him.

 

Jimin hesitates but there is something so hopeful in Yoongi’s eyes he can’t bring himself to crush it. Yoongi clearly enjoys this and Jimin...Jimin surprises himself when the Versace logo makes his heart jump a little curiously.

 

“You didn’t have to, you know?” he says still, looking up at Yoongi who’s towering over him expectantly, but slowly he reaches into the bag and pulls out a delicate cream box.

 

“I know, I know. But I like to.”

 

He toys it around in his fingers and finds it heavy with quality. When he opens it, however, the insides are lined with soft velvet and on a white cushion lays a dainty silver chain with a round medusa pendant, so distinct to the brand he doesn’t have to be an expert to recognize it. He gasps and his mouth stays slack at the unfamiliar luxury and beauty.

 

Yoongi is still looming over him, not intimidating, just waiting for a reaction. He cocks his head from the piece to Jimin, signing he wants him to take it out so Jimin complies. The bracelet feels satisfying in his fingers and he discovers how easy it is to accept it, to consider it his own and to look forward to put it on. The conversations he’s had with Taehyung about how the conditions don’t matter if he’s going to sleep with Yoongi anyway flash in his mind and he offers the bracelet to Yoongi with a bashful smile, standing up to see him eye to eye.

 

“Can you put it on for me?”

 

The wide smile and gleam in his eyes might just reveal what Yoongi gets from this and really, it seems like the most innocent and commendable idiosyncrasy to have.

 

“‘f course,” he says before accepting it and then his fingers work in a skilled motion, their coldness blending in with that of the chain.

 

Jimin has to admire how it sits just that right bit loose on his wrist, the pendant hanging down when he turns his hand around.

 

“It’s beautiful...Thank you, I–” don’t know what to say or how to repay you.

 

He silences himself and leans forward to kiss him coyly, lips on lips to Yoongi’s natural pout. It’s no more than a few seconds and they part with sighs.

 

“I’m glad you like it. I knew it would suit you, you should be a jewellery model or something.”

 

Jimin laughs but Yoongi breaks it off with his mouth, now hot and open on his but still languid. He holds his wrist around the bracelet and caresses it while his other hand sneaks around the small of Jimin’s back, seemingly covering the entirety of it. His tongue slips past Jimin’s lips and he accepts it, letting himself be led, pushed backwards and against the table.

 

When he pulls away it’s to take a quick breath and Jimin uses it, surging forward to kiss down the column of Yoongi’s neck and over the prominent adam’s apple. Maybe it’s his imagination but Yoongi tenses up a bit at that, waiting rigidly for whatever Jimin has in store for him and it doesn’t feel quite right.

 

“Jiminie,” he whispers when Jimin draws back.

 

There’s a second of awkward silence.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin suggests before he has the time to change his mind. His voice is small and slightly choked off.

 

“Sure,” Yoongi says, wary. He lets go and takes a short step back.

 

“Are you into...um...being dominant?”

 

It falls out of his lips before he has the chance to decide if he actually wants to ask or not. He does things like this sometimes, too impetuous. A thought mulls over in his brain and he’s almost settled on shutting up when suddenly he’s voicing it.

 

For a fleeting moment Yoongi looks shocked and maybe scared but then he seems to come to terms with the question.

 

He opens his mouth and closes it again with a heavy breath and with each second Jimin gets more nervous, pondering over the boundaries he could have just overstepped. His lower lip is worried between his teeth when Yoongi finally speaks, a little more hoarse than usual.

 

“I– Yes, I do prefer it,” he says simply.

 

Jimin had an inkling the first time they sat in a bar together, the first time he came to Yoongi’s room and he offered him money. Maybe it was the stupid trope of an older rich dude offering money to people for roughing them up but Yoongi was so stern in the way he talked and so stiff when Jimin took control and turned them around to be on top. The thought made him clutch his thighs together and shivers run down his spine.

 

“It’s fine, it’s not like–” Yoongi adds suddenly and Jimin realizes he got lost in thought for a moment too long and it must have made him think he was put off by the answer. “I can get off without it. It’s just a thing that I...like...sometimes.”

 

“I wanna try. Can you show me something?” His voice is so tiny it’s almost a whisper now and he knows he sounds naive and childish. But sometimes he wants things he doesn’t quite know how to ask for.

 

“Jimin...really?” It’s questioning, not quite as pleasantly surprised as Jimin hoped for but he couldn’t blame Yoongi with how quickly things have turned around. He doesn’t have to think it through too much before he nods.

 

“It’s not that easy,” Yoongi continues as he rakes his hand through his hair hesitantly, “There is a lot of things we could do but we have to both agree on it. I want you to know what you’re getting into.”

 

Jimin has ideas of what this could entail, basic kink stuff like bondage and spanking that he has dabbled in very lightly and unexperiencedly. But it’s not appealing unless Yoongi voices it because that’s what this is about. Yoongi choosing, Yoongi making him do anything he pleases, beyond what he can imagine right now.

 

“So what do you do usually? What’s your favourite thing?” he asks.

 

“For me it’s about the feeling of being in control, above all. I like causing pain but also nerves, emotional distress.” Yoongi has obviously gone over these countless times, be it in real life or in his head. He knows what he wants and what he likes and names it firmly, if not confidently. “Sorry if this is a lot, we don’t have to do any of it but it’s just...for the moment, you know?”

 

“No, it’s– I’m interested.”

 

“I like bondage too. Orgasm denial or overstimulation, the feeling of someone being dependant on me.”

 

Jimin sort of wishes Yoongi would proceed, just yank him around or force him to suck his dick but he understands the cautiousness.

 

“Please,” he says, reaching out to run his fingers over Yoongi’s abdomen, the material of his shirt soft to touch. He hasn’t decided what he’s pleading for but Yoongi is good at this and he’s got him figured out.

 

“Okay, we can try this. I’m gonna tie you up, lightly.” he waits patiently for Jimin’s nod but also perhaps to buy himself more time, “And you’re gonna be completely quiet while i tell you what to do or do whatever I want with you. Does that sound good?

 

It sounds...It sounds like Jimin’s cock is already stirring in his pants purely at the image of it..

 

“Yeah, that’s...good.”

 

“Do you want to start now?” He catches Jimin’s hand still lingering above his belt buckle and very gently pulls it off.

 

“Yes.” Yes, please, yes. “But what about...shouldn’t we have a safe word?” It crosses his mind all of a sudden and he doesn’t ask because he’s scared Yoongi would hurt him in any way. It’s just something he always thought came with the deal.

 

“Sure, we can make one. But I’ll stop if you say stop,” Yoongi responds with a hint of a smile. “Usually we say red.”

 

“Hmm...What about mayday?” For some reason Jimin thinks it’s a good joke but as soon as it’s out he regrets ever asking. But Yoongi laughs, almost silent but apparent on his face.

 

“You’re cute...Mayday...I’ll still stop if you say stop, just so you know. You’re new to this and we’re not doing anything crazy but still, I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Good. Take off all your clothes and lay on your back.”

 

The sudden change of tone makes shivers run down Jimin’s whole body. Yoongi doesn’t need to raise his voice to exude power and doesn’t need to touch to make him excited.

 

Jimin does as he’s told, shucking off all his clothes quickly and unceremoniously. Yoongi doesn’t fix him with his gaze this time, instead he disappears to rummage through a wardrobe in the entryway so he lays still and listens to his own slightly uneven breathing. His dick stays sort of half hard and he really wants to stroke it into full hardness but decides it’s probably not something Yoongi would allow.

 

When he finally emerges, he’s toying with a long stretch of black fabric and Jimin studies it intently as he walks closer, realizing it’s a silk tie, presumably to bind him like he promised.

 

“You look so pretty, Jiminie,“ he says, stepping right beside the bed and leaning over to brush a few loose hair strands off his forehead.

 

Jimin almost answers, blush surely spreading across his cheeks but Yoongi quickly presses a finger onto his lips to stop it.

 

“Your quiet time starts now, no speaking from now on.” His voice is nearly a whisper and it’s so so calm, a slight purr reverberating it. “If I ask you a question you answer by shaking your head, do you understand?”

 

Jimin understands and is eager to show, giving a couple of unmistakable quick nods.

 

“Good boy.”

 

His dick stirs and it’s difficult to look into Yoongi’s eyes now.

 

“You like being called that?”

 

Another series of nods follows automatically.

 

Yoongi gives him a pleased smirk but doesn’t say anything more for a while. His fingers caress his cheek absent-mindedly and he seems to think over the possibilities of what he could do to him.

 

“Do you trust me?“ he asks finally.

 

Jimin almost speaks out but catches himself last minute. There is no deep thought to it, just another nod. If Jimin didn’t, he wouldn’t be in this room at all. Sure, he knows virtually nothing about this man but there is a gut feeling, a sense of safety and comfort coming off of him in waves.

 

“I want to blindfold you.“

 

Jimin swallows on empty.

 

Yes.

 

And then the tie he’s been toying with falls around his eyes and he’s thrust into darkness, closing his eyes underneath comfortably. He raises his head naturally to allow Yoongi to cross it around and then knot in the back.

 

“Isn’t it too tight?“

 

Jimin shakes his head no. The silk is cold and pleasant and the uncertainty makes him slightly nervous but in a nice way.

 

Yoongi’s hands leave him and he senses him walking away. His heart leaps in his chest and he fiddles with the bracelet subconsciously, trying to still his breathing.

 

A wooden door creaks and then Yoongi is walking back and when he speaks again, it’s from beside the bed where he was standing before.

 

“I don’t have any rope so I’m gonna tie you up with my tie. I hope you won’t get it dirty, I only have these two with me.”

 

Jimin nods although no question was asked

 

“Raise your hands and clasp them together,” Yoongi commands, voice remaining calm and concentrated.

 

Jimin obeys immediately and lets Yoongi work his skilful fingers around his wrists. The fabric loops around two or three times and then cuts a line in between both hands and he feels the knot getting tighter until they’re securely clutched together. Yoongi pulls on the end of the tie to check the firmness and takes over all the weight of Jimin’s arms.

 

“Not too tight?” he asks again.

 

Jimin shakes his head. The tie is pleasant on his skin but it’s even better as Yoongi tugs on it all of a sudden, making his upper body jerk forward lightly. He huffs and Yoongi chuckles before he lets go completely and Jimin’s hands fall down limply on his chest. He finds it strangely comfortable to have them so snug, held in place by the knot.

 

“Oh Jimin, if you could see yourself right now,” Jimin hears as the bed dips next to him, “So beautiful, baby.”

 

The nickname comes unexpected. Jimin has been called it before but not in a setting like this, not in a way that would make his blood rush this way. His cock, fully hard now, gives him away by twitching obviously but Yoongi pays no attention to it, running his finger over his slightly parted lips. Jimin can’t help chasing after it, wanting to suck him in, but Yoongi withdraws and Jimin closes his mouth on empty. He makes a few more disoriented attempts but Yoongi tuts.

 

“No no, baby, I’ll give you my cock to suck on later.”

 

Jimin gasps at the promise, holding onto it excitedly.

 

“You like nicknames?

 

Yes.

 

„Good, I like ‘em too. Baby fits you well…A blushing baby."

 

Jimin realizes he’s probably blushing now, unable to control this tendency of his body.

 

Yoongi’s hands are finally back on him, no pressure to it, just the pads of his fingers brushing down his torso, avoiding the hardened nipples and the belly button piercing. Jimin’s whole body convulses when he traces along his hip bone, a sensitive spot.

 

„But I’m thinking something else would fit you even better.”

 

One thing comes to Jimin’s mind and he has no idea if that’s what Yoongi means but oh, how he suddenly wishes it would be. It feels dirty although the words are innocent but he wants dirty now, wants to try and see what it would make him feel.

 

Baby boy,” Yoongi concludes and at the same moment grabs his cock for the first time and it’s like an electric shock. He just tugs on it firmly once and lets go but Jimin can’t help the moan escaping his lips.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

Jimin nods fervently as his legs twist and turn almost involuntarily in search of any kind of friction. Yoongi settles one large palm over his thigh to calm it.

 

“Breathe. You’re doing well, baby boy,” he says and the palm travels up against the fine hairs on Jimin’s upper leg and then runs over his cock, making it lay flat and spring back up. He does it a few more times and it’s pleasurable finally getting some attention there but not quite satisfactory.

 

And then Yoongi’s hand is gone again, moving over to flick at the piercing in his navel. Jimin has found that piercing the area greatly increased the sensitivity of it and he is glad that Yoongi enjoys playing with it. He tugs on the ball, careful but sharp, and Jimin sucks in a breath. He senses Yoongi moving on the bed before he feels an added wetness on his stomach.

 

Yoongi’s tongue works around the dip and then his mouth moves up, peppering tender kisses up to his sternum and the tied hands.

 

“Your body is so beautiful, baby boy. You take good care of yourself, I like that,” he almost whispers into his chest and Jimin revels in the compliment. It feels better than any other regarding his appearance because it’s something that is entirely up to him and his hard work and self control.

 

Yoongi gives him a quick kiss on the lips, just a light peck that is completely unexpected and leaves him longing for more and goes to lick around his nipple. The graze of teeth makes his back arch and he can’t stop the soft moan bubbling out. Yoongi moves to the other nipple but this time he adds a hand to his neglected dick, stroking lightly and avoiding the head. Jimin’s body tenses, hips canting up to meet the touch.

 

Both Yoongi’s tongue and palm are gone in a snap. There is a second of nothing where Jimin holds his breath and then a pointed slap hits the length of his cock. Jimin gasps with shock but his cock gives a clear twitch and it’s so weird but he craves feeling it again.

 

“Stay still,” Yoongi says, a little sharper than before. “Remember you can use your safeword or just say stop and I’ll do it.”

 

He shakes his head rapidly because the thought of Yoongi stopping now scares him.

 

“Good.”

 

Another slap and Jimin does everything in his powers to not rut against it. Yoongi’s hand lingers, dipping down to cup his balls and back to jerk him off lightly before he withdraws again and taps his leg.

 

“Bend your knees,” he instructs and Jimin complies immediately, eager for praise. “Good boy.”

 

He hears shuffling and a click of a cap. A wet squelch - Yoongi coating his fingers in lube.

 

Cold drags along his perineum first before circling around his entrance and all of it feels sweetly agonizing, the anticipation mixing with heightened senses.

 

“Such a pretty hole,” Yoongi murmurs, filth dripping from his tone. “I’m gonna prepare your pretty hole for my cock.”

 

And he doesn’t waste any more time pressing one generously coated finger inside and making Jimin whine at the desired contact. He’s unexpectedly routine and soon he’s adding another one and going slower this time, his wide knuckles dragging along the opening.

 

Jimin’s feet leave the sheets in a startled jump when he finds his prostate and another moan rips out from his throat. Yoongi doesn’t chastise him for it but instead seems to appreciate the better access, using his free hand to push Jimin’s thigh further into his chest.

 

“Cute,” he says, working him open and scissoring his fingers, switching between lazy shallow thrusts and direct plunges aimed straight for the prostate.

 

Jimin’s head is thrown back, embarrassing little mewls on his lips when Yoongi keeps hitting his favourite spot and soon he feels the familiar wetness of his dick leaking onto his
stomach.

 

“Are you getting close?” Yoongi asks.

 

Yes.

 

And his fingers are gone and a wet smack hits his cock again. Jimin yelps and leaks out some more precum.

 

“Not yet, baby boy. You need to be patient.”

 

Yoongi smears the precum down his shaft and digs his fingers into the slit, taunting him some more and Jimin is afraid he won’t be able to stave off his orgasm when his hand retreats again. He huffs in annoyance without meaning to but the denied pleasure is just too frustrating, his hips bucking up spontaneously.

 

“Not yet, I promise it will feel so much better later,” Yoongi assures, caressing his abdomen lightly before the bed shifts and he’s getting up.

 

Jimin looses track of him for a few moments, unable to listen in through his own jagged breathing, and then he’s grabbing onto his chin to turn his head to the side.

 

“I promised I’d give you my dick, didn’t I? I always keep my promises, baby.”

 

Jimin’s lips open automatically, partly for the way Yoongi grips him, partly for the words. He nods again, not knowing how else to express his enthusiasm.

 

“You want that, right?” he says and Jimin can hear the zipper of his slacks going down. Quickly the thought of Yoongi holding back the whole time crosses his mind and it feels new having someone pay this much attention to him and his pleasure.

 

Yes.

 

“You’re good at it. Fucking perfect blowjob lips.” He thumbs them as he says it, roughly dragging the bottom lip off his gums.

 

Jimin hears fabric rustling and senses Yoongi looming over him before his cock slaps him in the cheek, long and heavy. He opens wider and sticks his tongue out slightly, helplessly twisting his head to find it. Yoongi finally takes pity on him after dragging his tip along his mouth and pushes in so Jimin can close his lips around and suck on the tip as best as he can at the slightly awkward angle.

 

“Good boy,” Yoongi coos, pushing in a little further and pulling back, fucking his mouth almost gently. “So good.”

 

Jimin moans around him, enjoying the approval and soon Yoongi rewards him by stroking his cock again. When his grip becomes tighter and he pays more attention to the head, Jimin goes sloppy on the sucking and Yoongi withdraws. To his surprise he doesn’t scold him, doesn’t even thrust back in, instead continues toying with him, spreading more precum around the slit

 

“Your cock is so cute, baby.”

 

Jimin’s stomach dips.

 

“Such a good baby boy cock.”

 

He’s not sure if Yoongi means to praise or mock but he twitches in his hands. He knows he’s small, never cared that much because he’s always prefered bottoming, but no one has ever said anything about it.

 

Yoongi’s other hand shifts to play with his rim and then his fingers are slipping back in and fucking him fast and all the stimulation is overwhelming. The build up is easy now, having already been pushed to the edge once.

 

He tries to stop himself but Yoongi squeezes his cock inside his palm and that’s something Jimin always does when he wants to get himself off quickly, a sensation he strangely loves. And Yoongi’s hand does it even better, so big it engulfs him. He moans, high and open, and all his muscles convulse and he’s spurting hot seed all over it.

 

The orgasm takes over him completely, his legs shaking and eyes rolling back. It’s almost a minute before he can think of anything else and then shame washes over him because Yoongi said not yet and he couldn’t hold off.

 

“S-Sorry,” he stutters out, voice hoarse, without thinking twice about it.

 

Yoongi’s hand slips out of him immediately and it clasps over his mouth harshly, making Jimin realize his mistake. He leans over him and speaks close to his ear, other hand still stroking his cock.

 

“Jimin, I told you to keep quiet,” he says in a tone that makes him grow goosebumps. “So shut the fuck up.”

 

Jimin sobs, hating the way he says his name now instead of baby or baby boy, hating that he’s fucked up.

 

“It’s okay,” Yoongi adds after a moment, pulling away the hand.

 

Jimin lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and Yoongi wipes his mouth from the lube and spit before kissing him lightly.

 

“I’m still gonna fuck you though. Is that okay?”

 

Jimin nods. Of course it is.

 

“Good. Your quiet still stands, I don’t want to hear anymore slip ups.”

 

Jimin nods again and he sort of wishes Yoongi could at least see his pleading eyes, wet with tears.

 

The hand on his cock quickly gets uncomfortable but he is adamant to be good and not say anything, not even wriggle too much.

 

Yoongi keeps massaging his head and dipping into the slit and it becomes apparent he does it on purpose as more liquid leaks out and he refuses to let out. It hurts and Jimin whimpers relentlessly but his dick stays hard and in just a few minutes he feels the coil in his stomach tightening again.

 

“Come on, baby boy, let go,” Yoongi urges, “You can come now.”

 

He gathers more cum around the tip and strokes fast just a few more times and Jimin is coming again with a wail. Nothing much squirts out and it’s not as mind blowing as the first one but it’s a completely different feeling that leaves him burnt out and motionless, chest heaving.

 

“Good boy,” Yoongi commends him as he finally retracts from his softening dick. “So good for me. So cute. I knew you could do it.”

 

It dawns on him that Yoongi has just made him cum twice while not getting much more than a few minutes of a sloppy blow job himself and he wants to return the favors so bad, to hear Yoongi cum too.

 

And just as Yoongi has promised, he goes along with his thoughts, making sure Jimin is stretched enough with three fingers first before pushing his thighs up and positioning himself to slide in. He starts off slow, pulling out completely and making Jimin hiss as he thrusts back in, this time snapping his hips fast and smooth.

 

Jimin feels like he’s slipping in and out of consciousness as Yoongi fucks him. Worn out from the overstimulation he wants to fall asleep but he’s back whenever Yoongi hits his prostate. And it’s impossible to get hard again but the thought of Yoongi finally being inside combined with his prostate being stimulated make it an oddly sweet experience.

 

He gets lost in his heavy breathing and the flaps and zipper of his pants dragging along his skin and before he knows it, Yoongi is grunting lowly and burying himself inside, finishing into the condom.

 

“Fuck. So good, baby,” he says right before, sounding a little less composed.

 

Jimin is drifting away when he pulls out and the sudden emptiness makes him whine. He hears shuffling and then Yoongi is by his side again, caressing his cheek

 

"Are you feeling good, Jimin? You can speak now."

 

Jimin breathes out a "Yes” and it feels almost wrong to talk again.

 

“I’m gonna take the blindfold off now, are you ready?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Yoongi helps him raise his head as he unties the knot and then he’s slipping the silk away and Jimin blinks his eyes open very slowly, noticing their dampness. He expects to be blinded but the room is dark, only light coming dimly from the entryway.

 

The first thing he sees is Yoongi’s face and he thinks he looks really handsome like this, with sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead and a content smile. He’s fully clothed. Some buttons on his shirt are undone and it hangs loosely pulled out of his slacks but his pale chest is covered and the pants are already zipped up.

 

“So I’m not gonna see you at all tonight?” he asks, drowsy.

 

“What do you mean?” Yoongi cocks his head to the side, casting the tie on the floor.

 

“I mean...without clothes.”

 

He chuckles lightly, eyes disappearing.

 

“I’m really not that interesting without clothes,” he waves and in the same breath adds, “Let’s untie your hands.”

 

When he does he makes Jimin stretch them out and then massages his wrists gently, going over the light pink marks and careful around the bracelet.

 

“You should drink some water.”

 

The dryness of his own throat hits him like a rock but Yoongi is already handing him an uncapped bottle and he shifts on the bed and slowly perches himself up on his forearm to take a sip.

 

Yoongi excuses himself but he’s back in a moment and he’s holding a dampened towel to clean him up, cum starting to get uncomfortable on his stomach.

 

“Thank you,” Jimin says. Everything Yoongi does seems to draw him slowly back to reality and realize his bodily functions and surroundings he wasn’t paying attention to.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Good,” he says, an automated response because it’s hard to think.

 

Yoongi looks at him unconvinced, “Did you like what we just did?”

 

“Oh, it was–” It’s difficult to describe because he got so lost in the moment and there is almost a disconnect from it now.

 

“It’s all right if you want to take your time and think it through,” he interjects when he sees him struggling. “Do you want a blanket?”

 

The attention is a lot, something Jimin isn’t used to but he knows Yoongi means well.

 

“No, no, I’m fine. I liked it, Yoongi,” he says as he sits up abruptly, finally coming to his senses a little more. “I liked it a lot.”

 

When Jimin gets out of the shower later, fully clothed, Yoongi is smoking on the balcony and looking out into the darkness. Jimin slips in through the ajar door and the chilly wind hits him straight away. He sucks in a sharp breath and only then Yoongi notices him.

 

“You sure you don’t want to stay the night?” he asks as he turns around to face him.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon.” Or maybe today, Jimin doesn’t know if midnight has rolled around.

 

“Aah, right.“ He knocks the ashes off his cigarette on the railing. „You should get a lot of sleep.“

 

„When are you leaving?“

 

„I’m staying one more night. Hopefully we’ll close the deal tomorrow.“

 

Jimin wants to add something conversational but Yoongi is quicker.

 

„Jimin I¬– I want to thank you for tonight.“

 

„Oh no, that’s– I should be thanking you.“

 

„Let me do something for you. I can provide anything you want, clothes or nice hotels...“

 

Jimin’s mood changes so suddenly, from a slightly awkward after sex haze to a wash of guilt and questioning .

 

„Yoongi, I’m sorry, I really have to go. I don’t want anything from you, I enjoyed myself. This,“ he waves his hand to show off the bracelet, „is already too much.“ And he’s almost out of the door just waiting for something from him to confirm that he hasn’t hurt.

 

Yoongi nods a few times, expressionless.

 

„Please keep it.“

 

„Okay.“

 

„Have a good rest.“

 

„You too.“