“Jungkook, are you doing laundry?” Yoongi peeks his head into Jungkook’s room, where the younger boy is gathering a massive pile of clothes in his arms. He can hardly see over the top of the pile, his big doe eyes peeking out, wide and sparkly.
“Yeah!” Jungkook says, adjusting the clothes in his arms. “Need anything washed, hyung?”
Yoongi does have a few shirts that need to be washed, and he may have been wearing the same underwear for the past few days, but there’s no way he’s going to add any more work to what Jungkook’s already doing.
“Nope, I’m good, Kookie,” Yoongi says. Jungkook nods, his hair flopping into his eyes, and he pushes past Yoongi towards the laundry room.
Once he steps into the laundry room, he kicks the door shut behind him and sighs. Truthfully, he doesn’t love doing laundry just for the sake of doing it like his hyungs and fans seem to think. He just loves the – well, he loves the washer.
Let him explain.
He’s been cooped up in a dorm full of six hot, older men since he was fifteen. In the past five years he’s had numerous gay awakenings, and with each new surge of holy shit I’m gay, his dick takes quite the beating. Figuratively and literally.
Another downside to being cooped up with six other guys in close quarters is that he can’t exactly order any toys, and his schedule doesn’t allow him to just mosey on over to the closest sex shop and pick something out – maybe like, a huge vibrator.
So he’s become resourceful.
Jungkook shifts all his clothes to one arm and throws open the washer. It’s an old, creaky thing that they should probably replace, but for Jungkook’s uses, the age makes it that much better. Jungkook pours some detergent into machine, not concerned with making it perfect because that’s not why he’s here.
Jungkook drops the washer lid closed and waits patiently for the barrel to fill up. He’s in his thinnest pajama pants, the ones that are nice and soft against his skin. Something about the situation, standing in front of the washer in his soft pajamas, knowing what he’s about to do, makes Jungkook hard; he hasn’t even touched himself yet.
"C'mon, c'mon," Jungkook dances in front of the washer, bouncing from foot to foot impatiently. Right now it's only him and Yoongi in the dorm, the elder staying in today to get some well deserved rest after spending the past three days in the studio, but even so, Jungkook has very limited time and the washer isn't filling up fast enough for his liking. Jungkook lets his hand wander downhill front, gently rolling over his nipples and his abs. He's always been so, so sensitive, and as he gently brushes against the tent forming in his pants, Jungkook gasps and lurches forward, grabbing onto the washer. It's been so long since he touched himself.
The washing machine makes an awful sound as it changes from the filling cycle to the spin cycle, and Jungkook shakily climbs on top of the machine. He's only done this one other time, and he'd come so fast that he couldn't even truly enjoy it. Once he's sitting on the machine, Jungkook scoots to the corner and throws a leg over each side. The vibrations from the machine immediately make his thighs start moving, the muscle shaking with the movement of the machine. Something about it, as Jungkook stares down at his legs, makes it look like he's being fucked, almost. Like someone is thrusting into him hard enough that his thighs shake.
Maybe he's just horny.
Jungkook hisses when he leans forward, the vibrations now focused more on his actual cock. His pants do nothing to try and dull the feeling, only a thin fabric between Jungkook and the washer. Quietly, Jungkook whimpers as he presses down on the side of the machine.
"Fuck," Jungkook says. He can see where the front of his pants are getting wet from his pre cum, and Jungkook shudders. He always gets so wet, but something about – about doing this where he's not supposed to, somewhere his hyungs all visit, something they use, just – makes him leak like an open faucet. An open sex faucet.
Ever so gently, Jungkook grinds down on the washer, his mouth falling open with pleasure as the machine vibrates against his cock. Distantly, he wonders if he got a vibrator if maybe one of his hyungs would run it up it down his cock; maybe they would hold him down and sit on his thighs and tease him until he cries a little, maybe.
"H-hyung," Jungkook moans, using one of his hands to squeeze at his cock. He's so hard, and so worked up already, but he doesn't want to come yet. He has another load of laundry to do, and he wants to last. The machine under him flips to the rinse cycle, and Jungkook groans. The washer, despite its age, works efficiently, which is both good and bad. Good, when Taehyung accidentally spills soda on his stage clothes the morning of an interview; bad, when Jungkook is hard and leaking all over the metal and wants to drag this out as long as he can.
When the machine beeps, Jungkook slides to the floor on shaking legs. He puts the wet laundry in the dryer and dumps the rest of his clothes in the washer. Before he shuts the lid, he kicks off his pants and shirt and throws them in the barrel of the washing machine. The pants are wet in the crotch from his pre cum, and he figures he can just get something out of the dryer for when he's finished. Once the machine is started back up, Jungkook doesn't bother waiting for the barrel to fill up before crawling back on the machine. His cock flops down right on the lid, and Jungkook whines loudly.
He freezes for a second, looking tensely at the door, but there's no noises from behind the wood. Yoongi seems still blissfully aware of what Jungkook is doing, so he grinds down on the machine and bites his lip. His cock jumps off the machine and pre cum spurts out onto the metal. Jungkook runs one of his hands up his chest and pinches delicately on his nipple. Jungkook whimpers and squeezes a little harder, his hips kicking against the machine.
The image of one of his hyungs looming over him, holding him down, still works at the back of his mind. Jungkook closes his eyes and brings it to the forefront, running his hands over his thighs and chest, imagining that they're bigger and rougher than his own, long fingers squeezing the meat of his thighs and pressing his nipples.
"Hyung," Jungkook whimpers again. He leans backwards, moving his hand from his chest to behind him to help hold himself upright. Jungkook runs his hand up the inside of his thigh and grabs his cock, imagining that it's hyung's long, pale, fingers wrapped around his cock, moving methodically up and down his shaft. The machine switches from the filling step to the spin cycle. Distantly, Jungkook hears the sound of the hallway door opening, but he pays it no mind as he grinds down on the machine. "F-fuck."
Jungkook tightens his hand around his cock and throws his head back, imagining that his hyung is kissing his neck, yanking at his cock, maybe biting him a little – Jungkook whines loudly. The door opens slowly and Jungkook spooks; as a result, he grabs harder at his cock, and Jungkook whimpers and curls into himself.
"Jungkook?" Yoongi asks, his head poking into the room. It reminds Jungkook of this morning, but this time instead of not being able to see him because of the pile of clothes, Yoongi can see all of him.
"H-hyung," Jungkook whimpers, but this time it's not out of pleasure. He can feel himself blushing hard, and his heart is beating in his chest. He might vomit.
"I heard you say hyung, and then you whined, I– I thought you were hurt, maybe–" Yoongi stutters. His eyes are looking steadfastly on Jungkook's cock, still hidden behind Jungkook's hand, pretty pink head sticking out over his fist.
"I'm not," Jungkook says simply. On the inside he feels like he might cry, but Yoongi isn't looking at him like he's disgusting, just like he's intrigued, maybe, so Jungkook jeeps his hand on his dick. "Um–"
"I can leave–" Yoongi says, already backing out of the doorway. Jungkook whines high in his throat when Yoongi disappears, and a moment later Yoongi's back, his eyebrows raised.
"Hyung–" Jungkook starts, ears burning in embarrassment. If he's honest with himself, it's always Yoongi in his fantasies, always his deep voice in Jungkook's ear, or his long fingers around Jungkook's cock, in his mouth– Jungkook moans again without meaning to. "H-help."
Yoongi steps into the laundry room slowly, and Jungkook sighs. Once Yoongi is between his legs, Jungkook lurches forward and rests his head on Yoongi's shoulder. "Only if you want," Jungkook adds. Yoongi laughs in his ear, and Jungkook inhales deeply. That's another thing– his hyung always smells the best.
"How can hyung help you, Kookie?" Yoongi asks quietly, his arms wrapping around Jungkook's waist. Jungkook buries his face in Yoongi's neck and shifts on the washing machine, whining loudly when the vibrations shaking through his body. "What's in the washer, baby?"
Jungkook moans just at the pet name, and gently moves his hips against the washer. "Jeans," Jungkook barely gets out the word before Yoongi reaches around him and flips the cycle setting, turning it to fast/fast.
The agitation immediately picks up, and Jungkook's body shakes with the force of it. Yoongi gently pushes Jungkook off his shoulder, looking up at him as Jungkook throws his head back. "Feel good, baby?"
"Hyung," Jungkook breathes, grabbing for Yoongi's hands. "T-touch me, please."
Yoongi obliges immediately, grabbing Jungkook's thighs and pulling him closer to the edge of the machine. Jungkook's cock hits the metal and he jolts, using his hand to keep his cock pressed against the washer. Yoongi runs one hand against the inside of Jungkook's thigh and rolls his thumb over Jungkook's nipple with the other. Jungkook shakes with pleasure – this is exactly like his fantasies.
"Do you always use the washer to cum, baby? Is that why you like going the laundry so much?" Yoongi asks. He gently pushes away Jungkook's hand and grabs his cock. Jungkook lurches forward and wraps his arms around Yoongi's shoulders. He inhales deeply ad his cock seeps pre cum, Yoongi must feel it, because he laughs a little and asks, "Or do you like being able to smell your hyungs? Is that it? Do you get off wearing one of Taehyung's shirts? With your nose buried in Hobi's underwear?"
Jungkook whines, but shakes his head. "No?"
"Not– not other hyungs," Jungkook says. Yoongi hums, twisting Jungkook's cock in his hand. "Just you– your smell, you– your fingers."
"What about them, baby?" Yoongi asks. Jungkook breathes heavily through his nose and jerks when Yoongi uses his free hand to pet gently at his head. The feeling of the washer underneath him has almost completely subsided, Yoongi's scent and warmth wrapped around him taking up any other room for thought in Jungkook's mind. "What about my fingers, baby?"
"H-how long they are, and– and big," Jungkook says. "Sometimes I think about, um, sucking on them, sometimes." Jungkook blushes when Yoongi hums thoughtfully. Yoongi’s free hand moves from Jungkook’s head to his mouth, and the pads of his fingers press gently on Jungkook’s lips. Jungkook looks at Yoongi with big eyes, and Yoongi just presses more firmly on his pink mouth. Jungkook pops open his mouth and Yoongi gently presses his fingers into his mouth.
“Oh wow,” Yoongi says thinkingly. Jungkook gently curls his tongue around Yoongi’s fingers, running it in between the two. Jungkook whines softly and leans more into Yoongi’s hand; Yoongi presses his fingers against Jungkook’s tongue. “You really do like hyung’s fingers, don’t you, baby?”
Jungkook keens, and Yoongi coos at him. The washer has since stopped running, but Jungkook can’t bring himself to care – not with Yoongi’s fingers in his mouth and wrapped around his leaking cock. “Hyung, hyung –” Jungkook whimpers Yoongi’s fingers, rutting up gently against Yoongi’s hand. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to use Yoongi’s hand, doesn’t know if Yoongi will pull away from him, or maybe make him behave by hitting him a little, maybe.
“You’re so hard, baby. Sensitive, too, huh?” Yoongi pulls his fingers out of Jungkook’s mouth and immediately presses the wet, cold, fingers against Jungkook’s nipples. There’s spit on his chin but Jungkook can’t think about anything other than the feeling of Yoongi running his hand over his nipple and the sound of Yoongi’s voice in his ear, saying he’s– “Such a good boy, good baby for hyung. Look at that spit on your chin, you’re just a drooly baby, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” Jungkook stutters. Yoongi’s rolling his cock head around in his hand now, and Jungkook feels like he’s on fire. “I’m just– just a baby, hyung’s baby.”
Yoongi squeezes his dick suddenly and Jungkook falls back against the washer, completely spread out for Yoongi as he shoves his own fingers into his mouth. He bucks up the best he can against Yoongi’s palm, and Yoongi’s free hand runs up and down Jungkook’s naked body. Jungkook keens under the attention, his body curling into itself as Yoongi runs his hands across Jungkook’s sensitive nipples.
Yoongi moves his hand down to roll Jungkook’s balls between his fingers, and he looks down to see Jungkook’s asshole, presented so prettily in Jungkook’s curled-up state, clenching tightly as he gets closer to the edge. Gently, Yoongi blows air across it and Jungkook positively screams.
“Hyung, hyung, I’m–” Jungkook chokes out around his fingers. There’s spit running down the side of his mouth and drying on his cheek; there’s tears in his eyes threatening to pull away from his lashes. Yoongi thinks he’s beautiful.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for hyung,” Yoongi says gently. Jungkook cums in thick ropes against Yoongi hand and bites down hard on his fingers to subdue his loud whiny noises. Jungkook’s chest heaves as he comes down from his high, gently pushing against Yoongi’s hand when the overstimulation becomes painful.
When Jungkook sits up, his hair is tousled, his eyes are dazed, and there’s spit all over his chin. “You’re so cute,” Yoongi says, pushing Jungkook’s bangs away from his forehead.
Jungkook giggles, warm and sated, and he rests his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. From this angle he can see the tent in Yoongi’s pants, and Jungkook gently reaches down and palms at Yoongi’s pants.
“Kookie, you don’t have to–”
“Want to,” Jungkook replies. He puts his hands down the front of Yoongi’s sweats and strokes languidly, hand already wet from his own spit, making the slide that much wetter. Yoongi’s hands grip hard at the washing machine, veins bulging as he keeps his knees from buckling. Jungkook can tell he’s already close, probably sensitive from being hard for so long without stimulation.
“Fuck, baby,” Yoongi groans when Jungkook squeezes the head of his cock just right. Jungkook’s panting against his face, and for some reason, Yoongi doesn’t mind too much. “Just there, baby. You’re making hyung feel so good, baby.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook asks, seemingly riled up just from Yoongi’s pleasure. “Is Jungkookie being a good boy for hyung?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re being the best boy for hyung,” Yoongi chokes out.
Jungkook falls forward and presses his mouth against Yoongi’s collarbone, gumming lightly at the shirt. “Come on, hyung. Cum for me, cum for baby.”
Yoongi shudders out a groan as he cums, throwing his head back as Jungkook pulls his hand out of his pants. When Yoongi looks back at him, Jungkook has his fingers in his mouth again, sucking Yoongi’s cum off his fingers like it’s his job.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says softly. He cups Jungkook’s face and, unthinkingly, pulls him into a kiss. He can taste himself on Jungkook’s lips and tongue, but he can’t find it within himself to care, not when Jungkook is shyly running his tongue over Yoongi’s and keening into his mouth. Jungkook’s hands hold on tightly to Yoongi’s shirt, keeping him close as Yoongi holds his face.
Jungkook whines when Yoongi pulls away, leaning forward for more, but Yoongi places a big hand on his chest. “Hyung–”
“We need to get you cleaned up, baby.” Yoongi steps away from him and walks over to wear they keep their freshly folded clothes. (All seven of them realized a while ago that no one got their own laundry out of the drier, so they just fold it and shove it on the shelf, where it sits until it’s rightful owner retrieved it.) Yoongi grabs his biggest, softest hoodie and a pair of Jungkook’s underwear before walking back to the younger boy. He bends down to help Jungkook’s feet into the underwear before he realizes that Jungkook is still very much covered in cum.
“Here,” Yoongi says. Jungkook takes the clothes and holds them away from his messy body while Yoongi roots around in his dirty laundry for something to wipe Jungkook off with. He ends up choosing a pair of old, holey underwear that can just be thrown away, and gently brushes them over Jungkook’s cock and thighs. Then he wipes the excess off his stomach and the dried spit around his mouth.
Jungkook puts on Yoongi’s hoodie as Yoongi helps hike his underwear up his legs. Yoongi changes too, into a t-shirt and new boxers before taking Jungkook’s hand and leading him to his bedroom. As soon as he sits down Jungkook crawls into his lap, lips puckered and searching.
“You’re so needy,” Yoongi says, but he happily indulges Jungkook without much complaint. Jungkook holds on tightly to Yoongi’s collar, holding him close as Yoongi’s fingers press into his slim waist. “You’re so tiny here, baby. How could I have ever thought you’d be anything other than a drooly baby who needs hyung to take care of him?”
“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, hiding his face in Yoongi’s hoodie. Yoongi smiles at him and kisses his nose; a part of Yoongi dies when Jungkook scrunches it, baring his big teeth.
“God, you’re so cute,” Yoongi says. Suddenly, he can’t stop voicing every single thing he’s thought for the past year. Maybe it’s to do with the fact that he’s touched Jungkook’s cock.
That’s probably it.
“Hyung, I’m tired,” Jungkook says. He burrows further into Yoongi’s lap and lays his head in the space between Yoongi’s neck and shoulder. “Let’s nap.”
“You still have clothes in the washer, baby,” Yoongi says, but Jungkook’s already pushing him back against the bed, big eyes wide in earnest as he silently begs for a nap. Once Yoongi’s completely back against the bed, he merely sighs and lets Jungkook curl up next to him, tiny in Yoongi’s hoodie.
“Later,” Jungkook says. He picks up Yoongi’s arm and puts it over himself as he maneuvers his head so it’s under Yoongi’s free hand, a silent demand to have his hair pet. “Sleep tight, hyung.”
Yoongi chuckles and leans down to kiss Jungkook’s forehead, and Jungkook preens under the gentle attention. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
If they sleep well into the night and Jungkook’s clothes never actually get moved to the dryer (by them, at least), then who cares. At that point, nothing matters aside from Jungkook, burrowed safely in Yoongi’s arms, and Yoongi, curled protectively over Jungkook’s body.