“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jeongguk sighs, watching as Taehyung comes into view carrying two drinks. Eyes shifting between both their outfits hesitantly. Can’t believe they’d managed to coordinate costumes without even trying, but also isn’t that surprised.
“I know. I look hot, right?” Taehyung hands him one of the red solo cups, their fingers brushing during the exchange. It’s enough to distract Jeongguk. Almost makes him say yes on impulse. “And apparently so do you. You know, come to think of it… you’ve always given me Peter Parker vibes. I like it. I’d rather see your face under Spider-Man’s mask any day.”
He gives Taehyung a once over, admiring the way his Spider-Gwen costume leaves little to the imagination; spandex does wonders on a body, and works even better on Taehyung. It fits him like a glove, black and white fabric clinging to his figure perfectly, colours complementing his tan skin—the pink spider print contrasts Jeongguk’s red.
Of course he looks good dressed like that, and isn’t afraid to acknowledge it. Taehyung, if nothing else, is frustratingly self-aware of how attractive he is. Uses that to his advantage, but solely when it comes to getting his way with Jeongguk.
Taehyung can pull off any outfit, yet Jeongguk would prefer him with nothing on at all. Secretly loves it when he uses horrible pick-up lines like the only thing that looks better on me is you . Though, Jeongguk would never outright admit to that. Taehyung doesn’t need a reminder or a stroke to his ego, and Jeongguk has rarely been one to give it to him—it’s usually written all over his face anyway.
“Hyung... we look like a couple. How are any cute boys supposed to pay attention to me now?”
Taehyung takes a sip of his drink and steps forward. “First of all, you’re the cutest one here.” His tone lowers—something sultry creeping in—despite the music already drowning out his voice. “And if any of these assholes don’t see that, I’d be happy to remind you.” He shrugs like it’s blatantly obvious.
“You’re an idiot,” Jeongguk mutters, ignoring the heat that drags along his face and spreads beneath the collar of his costume, words lacking any spite.
Taehyung chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind Jeongguk’s ear, cold fingers lingering near his cheek. “And you’re pouty. Does baby need a kiss to feel better, is that it?”
“Maybe one,” Jeongguk mumbles, wriggling when Taehyung’s thumb borders on ticklish as it traces his jaw. “Or maybe you’ll have to give me a few, who knows? I’m pretty upset .”
Taehyung’s laugh is a mix of exasperation and disbelief. He curls a hand around Jeongguk’s nape to bring him closer, his touch loaded and overpowering whether it’s meant to be or not.
“Ggukie…” He’s whispering now, breath hitting his lips and smelling like fruit punch. “Who said I’d be the one kissing you? Thought you wanted someone else tonight?”
Jeongguk falters, forgetting for a moment that there are still other people at this party, that they even mattered. Taehyung’s always had a way of capturing his full attention without effort. When they’re like this, everything else pales in comparison.
His annoyance already forgotten.
And Jeongguk hates that it doesn’t bother him like it should.
“Guess I could settle for you.” Jeongguk tries to say it with conviction, but does an awful job of concealing the fact that he’d made his decision before he’d even arrived. “Besides, no one else in this place seems like my type.” In reality, he just hasn’t been able to stop looking at Taehyung long enough to figure out if that’s actually true.
“How can you be so sure? You just got here.”
Jeongguk meets Taehyung’s challenging gaze with one of his own, tipping his chin. “I just know ,” he deadpans. “Don’t play hard to get, it doesn’t really suit you.”
“Everything suits me,” Taehyung gloats, lips curved at the edges, pleased at the effect he has on Jeongguk. “You, especially. Plus, it’s kinda hot to hear that I’m the one you really came here looking for.”
Jeongguk narrows his eyes, pushing against Taehyung’s hold but making no genuine effort to add distance between them. “When did I say that?”
“That’s the thing. You didn’t have to. I just know. ” He throws Jeongguk’s words right back, tugging him forward by the waist until their bodies are close enough so that Jeongguk can feel the heated press of skin through the costume.
It’s a pattern they repeatedly fall into, this constant push and pull that usually results in torn off clothes and inexplicable affection; Jeongguk can’t say he doesn’t like it, he’s fucking weak for it, but it’s rare that they finish a conversation these days without causing either one to happen.
And just as he leans in to connect their lips, someone speaks up beside them.
“You guys do realize there are rooms upstairs where you can go so the rest of us don’t have to be subjected to this, right?”
Seokjin visibly shudders, speaking directly to Hoseok now, who walks up beside him. “It’s Halloween and I swear the scariest thing I’ve seen all night is Taehyung being seconds away from shoving his tongue down Jeongguk’s throat.” He’s wearing a red velvet cape overtop a blue robe that’s tied together with a tasseled belt in an attempt to look like Doctor Strange, except the cape is floor length and he seems to be struggling with trying to untangle it from around his ankle.
Hoseok groans, “Some of us are single .” Clothed in green tights and a green leotard that are both littered with an array of leaves along certain parts of his body, he’s a very convincing Poison Ivy, dawning the signature red hair and all. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything about him not following the original group plan to dress up as Marvel superheroes because of it—and also because Taehyung hadn’t either.
In all honesty, they’d agreed on it last minute while getting high in the back alley campus parking lot after smuggling in some weed, trying to avoid getting caught or reported when a few Kyung Hee University students had walked by handing out flyers for the party. Not wanting to smoke what little they had in a week, this was their best excuse to spend a Friday night doing something else.
Behind Hoseok, Jeongguk notices a pair of pointy black ears and a curtain of dark hair, then hears Yoongi first before he sees him. “We’re literally dating.” He’s draped in a black latex suit and wearing leather combat boots to match—Catwoman. How fitting.
Hoseok’s grimace melts into a smile, bright and giddy. “You know what, you’re right,” he lightly pecks Yoongi’s cheek, “but these two aren’t even a couple and they still act more boyfriend than us.” He says it in a way that’s less accusatory and more so amused.
In the back of his mind, Jeongguk wonders what others, including their friends, see when they look at him and Taehyung, because to Jeongguk they’re just...different. They have this indistinct thing between them—not an actual relationship but it’s definitely beyond friendship—that works, something they didn’t necessarily plan but unknowingly eased into over the last few months.
There’s no label to it, either. No point in complicating what they have.
Taehyung likes being around him and Jeongguk inevitably seeks his company. It’s simple. Intimate but never overbearing.
They don’t have to be dating for Jeongguk to appreciate the way Taehyung treats him, the way he smiles into a kiss to show bits of tenderness, the way he sometimes holds Jeongguk like he’s his ...
Regardless of whether or not they eventually define what they have, Jeongguk can’t deny that he enjoys the attention Taehyung dotes on him, especially around their close friends. Though he’s never considered if they could ever have more .
“What’s your point?” Taehyung quips, and despite his smile, Jeongguk can see defiance, as well as a little bit of spite. His hands smooth down Jeongguk’s waist with purpose, stopping near his ass. "You gonna' do something about it?”
Jeongguk is tempted to shrug him off. Roll his eyes as usual and tell him to stop acting like it’s something to be taken seriously. But he doesn’t think Taehyung is joking, not completely. Not if his protective grip on Jeongguk’s waist is any indicator, peering at him from below his lashes in reassurance.
Jeongguk swallows hard, refrains from saying anything at all. Suddenly wishes college boys could afford more than the cheap soju that’s being served. The alcohol in his cup not strong enough for what he assumes will be a long night if things keep going as they are, with Taehyung growing more defensive and their friends riling him up further.
And it only takes Jeongguk about an hour or so to decide that maybe he spoke too soon.
After drinking multiple shots of something they found hidden at the back of the rich kid host’s pantry, he’s struggling to hold his balance. Had to stop dancing—or rather, grinding against Taehyung—because he was getting hot underneath his skin tight suit. Almost tried, albeit clumsily, to strip until Taehyung had grabbed his hands instead.
“You not wanting to see me naked? That’s a first.”
He wasn’t exactly certain when they’d split up from the rest of the group, mind clouded by Taehyung and his presence. Had predictably gotten caught up in him. Again.
Taehyung probably knew by that point that Jeongguk was edging on tipsy, a little loose-tongued already, but still chose to play along. Found him endearing. “Trust me, baby, that’s all I’ve been picturing since the second you walked through the door.”
Taehyung looked sober, or at least nowhere near as inebriated as Jeongguk felt. Very composed in comparison, but also mildly observant to their surroundings and careful with Jeongguk.
Jeongguk huffed at the confession, vision a little blurry but his eyes remained focused solely on him. “Then what’s taking you so long?”
“Honestly?” Taehyung ducked his head, hiding a grin, “Kinda wanted to show you off before I got you all to myself.”
And that’s how they end up on the shabby, old couch furthest from the crowd of other students. Taehyung with a handful of Jeongguk as he straddles him in his seat. Normally, Jeongguk would laugh at the picture he must be painting, half hanging off Taehyung’s shoulder, half trying to snuggle into his lap. Would probably feel a lot more shy about it, too. But the way Taehyung has been eyeing him all night—like he wants to devour him—has him feeling giddy and stir crazy, burning up from a wordless kind of tension.
Tipsy from the alcohol, yet drunk off Taehyung’s touch and that heavy gaze alone.
Jeongguk keeps his face buried in Taehyung’s neck for a moment, his scent intoxicating. Desperately wants more but doesn’t know how to ask for it. Usually just gives in when it’s Taehyung who initiates.
“Are you having fun?” He asks coyly, more air than sound, and yet Taehyung still tunes in on his voice. Still nudges Jeongguk’s head up, then leans in, poking the tip of his nose.
“Watching you get all needy is fun, so yeah.”
Jeongguk shoves at his chest, playful and nowhere near strong enough to hurt, but enough to feel the strength beneath Taehyung’s costume, the underlying expanse of taut muscle. He pouts. “Hyung’s a brat.”
Taehyung pinches Jeongguk’s left thigh, purses his lips as if he’s contemplating, “I only see one brat in the room, and he’s currently whining on top of me. Besides, you can’t deny that you like it," he says, “that you like me .”
“Like is a bit of a stretch,” Jeongguk whispers, hyper aware of Taehyung’s hands, his fingers skirting down, nearing his inner thigh this time. " Tolerate , maybe."
“I thought drunk people don’t lie.”
He swallows hard, tongue inexplicably heavy in his mouth. “Just… kiss me already? I know you want to.”
Taehyung smiles, all teeth and pretty, glossy lips pulling apart. Then, he reaches out, purposefully slow as he curls his fingers tight into the collar of Jeongguk’s costume, bringing him forward.
“If you wanna’ be kissed so badly, you have to come get it,” he states casually, voice deep and a touch husky, his breath warm and fanning against Jeongguk’s lips.
Jeongguk’s back dips with a shiver. In Taehyung’s arms, he feels incredibly small and cared for all at once, needy for things he’s used to getting without having to work for them. His lips part, tongue coming out to wet them as he stares at Taehyung’s mouth. Waiting.
It’s merely a few seconds of hesitation, but to Jeongguk they feel like years, each inhale a weighted breath that makes his chest ache and each exhale one that makes him tremble.
There’s an openly teasing glint in Taehyung’s eye, like he knows Jeongguk won’t do it, and that’s what fuels him. Makes Jeongguk grow bold, a little reckless and starved. Urged to prove him wrong.
On his next exhale, his lips find Taehyung’s in a rush, and Jeongguk gasps. His stomach swoops as heat envelops him, fast and unforgiving. And Taehyung kisses back like he has a point to make, too, licking into Jeongguk’s mouth and holding him steady in his lap.
He keeps his eyes half open, watching Jeongguk squirm, gaze fiery and attentive.
Jeongguk pulls away for a moment, only to come back harder, more intense. Brings their lips together again, kissing Taehyung with purpose. Fingers gentle as they trail from the nape of his neck to his hair—Jeongguk notices it’s slightly damp from the pressing heat that surrounds them. He delicately sweeps the matted strands back so that they no longer cover Taehyung’s forehead, running his hand through them before tugging at the ends hard , pulling a rough groan past Taehyung’s lips.
“ Fuck ,” he murmurs, eyelids fluttering shut, teeth catching against Jeongguk’s lower lip and sucking.
It gets Jeongguk whining, dazed on the sensation of Taehyung’s lips on him, his tongue sliding inside. He can’t keep his hands steady, seeking to touch and be touched, and slides them down Taehyung’s neck where he’s sweaty and hot beneath his palms.
Taehyung shudders in response, pulling away from Jeongguk for a moment, panting against him. His gaze leaves Jeongguk feeling fevered as he brings his thumb to brush across Jeongguk’s open mouth, pressing against his teeth.
No words fall between them, the music’s bass distantly echoing within Jeongguk’s skull as he bends closer, gasping forcefully against Taehyung’s thumb before biting the tip.
“Jeongguk,” Taehyung warns, a low rasp mingling between short breaths. His lips are flushed, slick and kiss-swollen, and in this low light he looks at Jeongguk like he’s ready to tear him apart; eat him up and swallow him whole.
Jeongguk’s hips jerk forward and he moves them slow, languid. He does it a second time, savouring the feel of Taehyung under him, already half hard. Uncaring of whoever might see, he caves and fists Taehyung’s costume tight, desperate for friction, just a little more.
Can’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel Taehyung properly , to finally have his cock buried deep inside of him. Frequently gets off just to the thought of it.
But they haven’t gone that far yet. Not because Jeongguk hasn’t wanted to, but because Taehyung worries that Jeongguk will regret it if he’s his first.
And sometimes it gets unbearable, when Taehyung forces himself to hold back in favour of guiding him if they’re trying something new, when Jeongguk begs to be fucked senseless but Taehyung only promises to use his tongue instead.
Yet none of that prevents Jeongguk from coming more than once every time they’re together—no matter how embarrassed he gets about it afterwards. Each one better than the last. Some nights, they don’t even need to rid their bodies of any clothes, a staggeringly slow grind enough to have Jeongguk rutting against Taehyung like a horny teenager.
Unbelievably sensitive, especially under Taehyung’s control.
Taehyung groans against him, buries his fist into Jeongguk’s hair before he yanks. The best kind of sting. Sends a buzzing kind of frenzy to pulse beneath his skin. He hiccups, meeting Taehyung’s gaze just as he moves forward.
It’s a crushing intensity, the way Taehyung kisses him, determined to take in every little sound Jeongguk makes in response. His fingers are firm in Jeongguk’s hair until his palm begins smoothing down his back, curving directly against his ass, gripping tight.
It’s difficult for Jeongguk to breathe, but he revels in the pressure, loves the way Taehyung handles him when he’s like this, be it in a crowded room full of people or behind closed doors.
There’s a lot they can’t resolve, especially given Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy on some days versus Jeongguk’s indifference when other people often show interest in him, but this... this is something they always get right.
“I should’ve figured.”
Taehyung pulls away first, comes close to telling the owner of the voice to fuck off but straightens up as best he can when he recognizes that it’s Namjoon who stands in front of them, his face twisted in mild disgust.
Jeongguk chases Taehyung’s mouth with a frustrated whine, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. His lips catch on Taehyung’s jawline, his chin, his cheek—anywhere except the place he wants them most.
“Hyung—I, uh, take it Hoseok hyung finally convinced you to come?” Taehyung clears his throat, barely able to ignore Jeongguk’s attempts as he continuously nips at his skin.
“Sure did. Even persuaded me to buy this shitty thing at the store. The rack was full of them and I can’t figure out why,” Namjoon says sarcastically, gesturing at his Iron Man costume that has overly inflated biceps and a faulty arc reactor that’s poorly glued to the chest. “I also remembered leaving my gloves around here and almost didn’t recognize you with your head shoved so far up Jeongguk’s ass.”
“Funny.” Taehyung reaches up to place a comforting hand on Jeongguk’s hip, fingers flexing like he’s trying to behave.
“What’s really funny is that now I have to wear those things after you two have been sitting on them for God knows how long.”
Jeongguk can’t help the muffled giggle that interrupts Namjoon’s drawn out sigh. Taehyung’s grin widens when he hears it, awkwardly shifting around to retrieve the gloves from underneath them. Makes sure to keep an arm wrapped around Jeongguk so that he doesn’t think he wants him off his lap—not that Jeongguk was planning on letting go, either.
Taehyung throws the thin pair of red gloves towards Namjoon, suppressing a laugh when he fumbles and fails to catch them.
“They’re warm .” Namjoon stops after he picks them off the floor, immediately holding them at arm’s length, nose wrinkling. Regret washes over his features.
Jeongguk’s about to mutter a weak apology but Taehyung responds first.
“Better put ‘em on so your hands don’t get cold, then.” He offers Namjoon a smile though it’s void of any real remorse. And if Jeongguk weren’t so turned on right now, he’d hit him for being annoying.
Before Namjoon gets the chance to retaliate, however, Hoseok comes hurtling onto the couch next to them, a few of his leaves flying off from the force. Yoongi follows suit, silently picking them up from where they’ve fallen and rearranging them on his boyfriend’s costume.
Jeongguk thinks it’s cute, the way they tend to each other. Little things here and there that no one’s actually meant to notice or find as much significance in.
He turns in Taehyung’s lap, reluctantly facing the rest of the group now that they’ve all decided to gather around.
“What are we all talking about?” Hoseok asks in a sing-songy tune, waving at Seokjin to join them when he spots their hyung from afar thanks to the lengthy cape; it drags behind Seokjin, almost causing people to trip. He acts like he doesn’t see it as he settles on the couch across from them.
“Well, we were in the middle of something—” Jeongguk says with a huff, pointing between himself and Taehyung. He leans back so his head rests against Taehyung’s shoulder, body splayed out except for his legs which remain crossed… for obvious reasons. “But since you all have exceptionally great timing for interruptions, let’s do something fun, I’m bored .”
“What do you mean? I was having a blast watching you and Taehyung dry fuck on the loveseat,” Yoongi remarks, “easily the highlight of my week.”
Taehyung snorts, reaching across Hoseok to knock the cat ears off Yoongi’s head, smirking. “Play nice, kitty. We’ll let you watch some other time.”
Yoongi pauses to consider, then nods, holding out his hand for Taehyung to shake. “Deal.”
Hoseok does a double-take. “ Yoongi—”
“ No, trust me, babe, they’re going to need a few pointers,” Yoongi drawls, unfazed, ignoring the scandalized look Hoseok gives him and the holes Taehyung is burning into the side of his head. “Besides, you’ll have to delete your browser history first if you want any room to speak against voyeurs.”
Namjoon looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he closes his eyes in irritation, “I came here for a good time and what do I get? Warm gloves and a gang bang.”
“Who’s having a gang bang?” Seokjin questions over Namjoon’s shoulder, draws his attention away from his phone, suddenly intrigued and perking up.
Namjoon keeps quiet, most likely withholding another snarky reply.
“Finally, he speaks. Had a feeling you were the kinkiest one in the group.” Taehyung glances at Namjoon next, tips his chin in his direction. “You can join, too, hyung. I know for a fact Jeongguk would like that even more.”
Jeongguk shoots Taehyung a glare, but he’s flushed red like the colour of his suit, noting that all eyes are on him when he doesn’t deny it. “ Anyways ,” he croaks, nodding towards the bottle Seokjin’s holding. “We should play a game—maybe a round of truth or dare?”
Yoongi gives him a blank stare, brows furrowed. “What are we, fucking twelve? I’ll pass.”
Hoseok nudges him, folding one leg over the other excitedly, “Well, I think it’d be fun.”
Scrambling, Yoongi quickly sits up from where he was snuggled comfortably against Hoseok’s side and playing with a few spare leaves, clapping his hands together, “Alright, count me in. Who’s starting?”
Taehyung loudly mutters the word whipped , feigning a cough in between, while Jeongguk actually pretends to flick an imaginary whip, bringing a blush to Yoongi’s face.
“Oh, like you’ve got any place to talk.”
“At least I can own up to it,” Taehyung beams, squishing Jeongguk’s cheeks in one hand, “I mean, who wouldn’t be whipped for this cutie?”
“Fuck off, Taehyung.” Jeongguk mumbles, trying to pry him away.
Taehyung pauses, the hand around his cheeks now settles around his jaw, squeezing. Jostling him from side to side, he teasingly asks, “ Jeonggukah , are you getting informal with me?”
“No, I’d never,” he drawls, “ hyung .”
Taehyung grits his teeth. The look he gives Jeongguk is obvious—knows Jeongguk is full of it, always down to tease and be a brat when it’s convenient to him. By now, he should’ve been immune to it.
“Seeing as how we’ve, thankfully, moved past Taehyung and Jeongguk eye fucking each other,” Namjoon interrupts them before they can continue, relaxing further into his seat, “we might as well play truth or dare. Unless you guys were planning on getting wasted with the jocks, joining the sweaty mosh pit or discussing existentialism with the stoners.”
“That last one’s a typical Tuesday night with you, Joonie,” Seokjin snickers, overheard only by Yoongi who nods in agreement. Namjoon raises his middle finger at them both and Seokjin fakes catching it, pressing the closed fist over his heart.
“Okay, but we have to agree on nothing nasty for dares,” Hoseok says, pointedly staring at Seokjin and Taehyung. “And nobody gets naked.”
“Killjoy,” Seokjin mutters, “none of you deserve to see me naked, anyway.” He reaches for one of the many empty bottles scattered along the floor, since he’s still sipping from his own, and hands it off to Namjoon who sets it on the coffee table between the six of them.
“Any other rules?”
Yoongi pauses to consider, tongue pressing into his cheek. He hums, then adds, “Nothing sexual... wait—don’t boo me, fuckers, just listen . Dicks stay inside everyone’s pants.”
“Showing ass is fine though,” Taehyung corrects, grinning. The hand thrown around Jeongguk’s waist tightening when he shifts in his lap. “Gotta’ be appreciative of those who have nice ones, you know?”
“Looks like we won’t be seeing yours anytime soon, then,” Yoongi taunts.
Hoseok ignores his boyfriend, directing his comment towards Taehyung, “Jesus— fine . But only if it’s a sensible amount of ass.”
“Can we please get to the actual game?” Namjoon whines, “I swear, this is why we never get anything done. Can’t take you guys anywhere.”
“Sorry daddy, I’ve been bad.” Seokjin frowns in exaggeration, pausing a second later to reevaluate that thought and mumbling, “Is that how it goes?”
Namjoon inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose and scowling at Seokjin who flashes him a dazzling smile. “I would seriously argue that’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me but, unfortunately, you prove otherwise every single day. Also, if what you meant was forgive me father for I have sinned , I highly doubt any god is willing to listen to you at this point.”
Seokjin’s wordlessly waving him off before Namjoon can finish speaking, already calling dibs on going first and disregarding everyone’s protests. “There has to be some perks I get from being the oldest, so quit nagging. Now… who should I pick?”
Jeongguk giggles, a light, airy thing that makes him feel a little dizzy. All that alcohol hitting him quicker when he’s sitting down, a sensation heightened by the fact that he’s currently being petted by Taehyung and his long, pretty fingers.
He should’ve known that playing truth or dare with his friends tonight would turn out the same as any other: nothing short of chaotic.
Usually, this far into the game, someone’s clothes are getting tossed, several fights are happening simultaneously and it all flies over his head. But Jeongguk is feeling good, everything appears to be moving slower. So he goes with the flow of things, content and shaking from the force of his and Taehyung’s combined laughter.
All things considered, the two of them have managed to keep it tame. Opting for truths rather than the dares their friends have been trying to bait them into taking whenever the bottle has landed on either of them.
It comes to a point where Jeongguk does it on purpose, his own form of payback against his friends for interrupting what could’ve been a handjob in the bathroom or a blowjob in one of the vacant, upstairs bedrooms.
He’s flushed and breathless, gets jostled on Taehyung’s lap as Seokjin reaches over to ruffle his hair, bidding that at least one of them finally choose a dare.
Yoongi, who’d just received his own dare—with Hoseok’s encouragement—to kiss a random stranger for a full minute, comes back sporting smudged gloss around his lips as a result. Cat ears a tad crooked on his head. He glares at Jeongguk and gruffly mutters, “Fuck this, pick a dare.”
Jeongguk is tempted to say no , to continue picking truth until they all get tired of it and leave him alone with Taehyung again.
The words rest on the tip of his tongue, almost spilling out. But then Yoongi scoffs in a mocking manner. “Unless you’re scared. I get it.”
Against Jeongguk’s back, Taehyung stiffens, already holding him tighter; they all know how it goes. Jeongguk can’t resist a dare, especially when roped into it through goading and sarcasm.
Jeongguk leans forward, balances on the edge of Taehyung’s knee, eyes glowering as he stares Yoongi down. “Scared of what? Please, you’re horrible at this game.” He takes a single look around the room. “Try me. I pick dare.”
Yoongi meets his gaze expectantly, large smile instantly replacing the bitter smirk. He doesn’t hesitate. “It’s a dare for the both of you, actually. Wanna’ see if the two of you can stick it out and spend the night inside that abandoned old house down the road. Y’know the one.”
The tension radiating off the others is almost tangible. Like they’re all holding their breath, bracing themselves. Taehyung, however, eases up behind him as if he’s decided there’s no pertinent threat.
Jeongguk awaits further instruction, hoping that the dare involves more than just the stiff back and sore neck he’ll surely get from having to sleep on fucking floorboards. He stifles a giggle brought on by the silence when he realizes there are none.
“That’s it ? You had me excited for nothing,” he declares offhandedly, alcohol reinforcing the confidence in his tone.
Seokjin is all too restless, slightly jumpy when a stranger accidentally bumps his shoulder. His lively attitude from earlier nowhere to be found.
“Babe, d-don’t you think you’re taking things a little too far…?” Hoseok’s shifting nervously in one spot, fidgeting with the leaves draped over his torso. At this rate, he risks tearing a hole through his leotard.
Yoongi gently rubs at Hoseok’s knee, addressing him in a much softer style, “Not at all,” he briefly glances at the two in question, “Taehyung and Jeongguk don’t even believe in the stories, remember?”
“Just because they don’t believe them doesn’t mean they’re not true,” Namjoon utters matter-of-factly from behind the rim of his cup, gulping down its contents in one go shortly after, his stare distant as he surveys a random patch on the floor.
Taehyung’s obviously just as dismissive as Jeongguk. “Unless Yoongi hyung has decided to dress up as a monster and meet us there, the only abnormality we’ll find in that house is some peace and quiet .” He absentmindedly reaches for Jeongguk’s hand, toying with each digit and smoothing over his knuckles. “Hey, hyung, how about a gremlin? You won’t even need a costume for that.”
“Laugh all you want,” Yoongi shrugs, “while you still can, that is.”
Jeongguk tilts his head—not too far or else the room will start to spin, “Why are you so certain it’s haunted? Would’ve thought you’d be the biggest skeptic, hyung.”
Hoseok hums, wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, “Don’t be fooled, my Yoongi’s a scaredy cat,” he points out, flicking one of the ears on the headband, “and that’s coming from me .”
Yoongi releases a loud breath but doesn’t contradict him, “I’ve seen more than anyone gives me credit for. And lived.” He leaves it at that, doesn’t elaborate but, then again, no one dares to ask him to—Jeongguk and Taehyung because they know he’s intentionally trying to scare them, Hoseok and Seokjin because they’re genuinely terrified.
“So are you two in or not?” He continues, “Tell you what, to make it more interesting, I’ll even add a little wager. Spend the night, with video evidence to show for it, and I’ll personally give you a hundred thousand won each from my own wallet. Lose in any way and you owe me double.”
Crossing his feet at the ankles, Taehyung checks to confirm that he’s heard him correctly. “You sure you don’t wanna’ think that through? You’re basically paying us to kick your ass, hyung.”
“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” There’s something menacing about the way Yoongi says it. Makes Jeongguk a little unsettled. Or that could just be his stomach rightfully rejecting all the booze in his system.
Seokjin’s eyebrows shoot up, a low whistle escaping his lips, “You really want them dead, huh? Understandable.”
Yoongi sneers, “Don’t be dramatic. If there’s nothing to worry about like they say there isn’t, then they’ll be fine.”
“Exactly.” Jeongguk reasons with him as best he can, nods frantically at the prospect of spending a night completely alone with Taehyung, grows hopeful when taking into consideration that they’ll have the entire house to themselves. No possibility of someone barging in.
He can still recall Hoseok sleepily wandering through their dorm a few nights ago, asking if they had any extra ramen packs to spare. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem, except Jeongguk just so happened to be on his knees for Taehyung in their cramped living room when he had.
Jeongguk has been meaning to change the passcode to their door’s lock ever since.
“Let’s go, hyungie. The faster we get there, the faster we can get these off.” He snaps the material of his suit against his skin. “M’itchy.” Jeongguk stands, cautious not to topple over Taehyung’s legs, or the table… or the floor which looks to be slightly moving. He tugs on his hand to lead them towards the door but stumbles back when he pulls too quickly. Taehyung wasn’t prepared for it, and his full body weight resists.
With a chuckle, Taehyung catches Jeongguk and faintly tickles at his sides, kissing the crown of his head, “Gotta’ be careful, bun.”
Namjoon pushes past them, though it’s as if he hadn’t done a thing. Taehyung holds them both steady, admiring Jeongguk’s lost expression. The song playing over the speakers is one of their favourites, and Jeongguk unconsciously rocks them back and forth in place.
Jeongguk knows his eyes get glossy when he drinks, but who’s going to tell Taehyung they only truly sparkle every time he looks at him ?
“On second thought, please leave and don’t come back.” Namjoon’s shoving them now, vastly distinct from how he’s also politely asking the people in their way to excuse them.
The last thing Jeongguk notices before they’ve made it outside is Hoseok and Yoongi leaning into each other, privately whispering like they’re in their own little world, and Seokjin who’s striking up a conversation with someone by the makeshift bar at the kitchen isle.
The evening air is chilly, biting at Jeongguk’s cheeks and dusting them a deeper shade of pink than they already are. Their thin outfits don’t help the situation, blocking none of the cold breeze that hits them. He doesn’t mind it, though, because Taehyung holding his hand the entire journey warms him down to the bone.
All the noise from the party gradually fades the longer they walk, until just the sound of a few crickets hiding in the lowrise bushes can be heard.
“This would’ve been a lot faster if we had called an Uber,” Jeongguk complains, “or taken our boards.”
Taehyung uses the back of his free hand to swipe across his nose when it starts feeling numb. “The Ubers out here never come on time and I don’t think I trust you on a skateboard in this state.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you know I’d beat you there, even when I can’t walk in a straight line and have no clue where I’m going,” he mocks.
Taehyung startles when Jeongguk is suddenly hopping onto his back.
“But since we’re stuck without any form of transportation, it looks like you’re gonna’ have to carry me the rest of the way since my feet hurt.”
“Oh, yeah?” Taehyung shifts while walking, adjusting Jeongguk’s body into a more comfortable position as he keeps moving uphill. “And what do I get as payment for my services?”
“Lots of kisses.” He plants one near the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, and he tries to turn his head for easier access, but Jeongguk is having none of it. “Now, giddy up .”
They only make it a few more blocks, pass a handful of other houses, until Taehyung stops, turning to look back down the road they came from. “Uh, Ggukie, do you think we’d somehow manage to get lost on a one-way path?”
Jeongguk shakes his long hair out of his face, tightening his hold around Taehyung’s shoulders and rearranging himself when he feels like he’s slipping. “Absolutely. Have you met us?”
It hasn’t even been twenty minutes yet. “Fuck. Well, I think we’re almost there.”
“In that case, less talking, more walking,” Jeongguk smacks Taehyung’s ass to get him trekking again.
Taehyung huffs in annoyance, “I will drop you.”
“And I’ll bring you down with me,” he reminds him sweetly. Jeongguk might not see Taehyung imitating him, but he can tell from the bob of his head.
“There should be a cemetery soon,” Taehyung notes as they keep going, starting to sound out of breath. Jeongguk jostles on his back when he nearly stumbles on a crack in the sidewalk. “Once we pass that, the house is literally a few feet ahead.”
“Ooh, a cemetery,” Jeongguk says in a spooky tone, absentmindedly tracing shapes against Taehyung’s shoulders. “I wonder if there are any demons out here.”
Taehyung snorts, “There is. You .”
Ignoring that, Jeongguk murmurs, “I hope a man-eating demon is lurking in the shadows ready to kill us, that’d be so sexy.”
This time, when Jeongguk feels himself being moved around again, seconds away from getting tossed onto the ground, he can tell it’s intentional given the way Taehyung grunts. “ Jeongguk .”
“Fine, be boring,” Jeongguk sighs, peering up ahead in search of the cemetery. He slowly runs his gaze down the street, spotting how the rows of houses become less the further they advance.
It doesn’t take much longer than a couple more minutes until Jeongguk spots the rusted, wrought iron gates that outline the perimeter of the cemetery. A few tombstones can be seen through the bars, tall blades of grass obscuring most of them.
There’s a fine sheen of mist surrounding the area and the immediate drop in temperature brings a shiver through Jeongguk’s body. He’s had a strong dislike for graveyards since childhood, attended one too many funerals before the thought of countless corpses buried a mere six feet under became more than unnerving.
His grip on Taehyung tightens, which the other misinterprets. “Don’t tell me you’re getting scared already? We haven’t even gotten there yet.”
Jeongguk digs his knees up against Taehyung’s hips, squeezing hard. “Shut up,” he gripes, sniffling. “M’just cold.”
“Big baby,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk can practically hear the smile in his voice, “ my big baby.”
Jeongguk can see his own breath, the foggy cloud of condensed air forming when he puffs and it brushes his bangs into his eyes again. There isn’t much of a view this far down the village, so he distracts himself by humming in tune to the sound of a distant owl and occasionally beholding the stars up above.
When it feels like they’ve been on this path for ages, Taehyung slows to a halt, his grip on Jeongguk loosening enough for him to slide down—doesn’t question it when Jeongguk reaches for his hand to hold, he just squeezes back.
“ Wow ,” Jeongguk whistles, scanning the entirety of the house that hardly stands upright across the street from them, eyes widening when he takes it in. From torn back shingles to cracked brick walls and a missing door, the building is decrepit; a hanok that’s long since lost its charm. “Love what they’ve done with the place.”
Beside him, Taehyung makes a soft sound of acknowledgment. “This is mildly disappointing considering its infamy. I’m literally expecting Jin hyung to jump out any minute now in a scary costume.”
“Except it’s not a costume, just his face after eating spicy food.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, looks at Jeongguk with a sort of exasperated fondness right before they cross the tall, bordering brick fence and stroll along the cobblestone path that leads to the house. At closer inspection, Jeongguk notes the severity of its state, instinctively cringing away at how off-putting everything appears to be. Overgrown grass flanks the sides, there are steps missing from the short staircase connected to the porch, and—
“Oh, there’s a cat.” Taehyung mumbles, squinting. “Hold on, is it even real?”
Small and black, the animal is perched on the railing of the porch, body eerily still save for the minimal twitch of its ears which verifies that it's not some statue. It reminds Jeongguk of his own pair of cats he reluctantly left behind in Seoul with his parents because of—in his opinion, unreasonable—dorm policy, simply lounging and uninterested in the presence of others.
Which definitely means he has to get close enough to pet it.
Disregarding Taehyung’s warnings to be watchful of the uneven steps, Jeongguk leaps his way onto the porch, slowly tiptoeing towards the cat, eagerly wanting to make friends with it. Without turning, it follows Jeongguk’s movements from the corner of its eye when he approaches with a hand held out gingerly.
“Oh, aren’t you the prettiest little thing?” Jeongguk coos, tinkering his fingers in order to coax the cat into brushing its tiny head against them, hoping to feel its soft fur. What he gets in return is the rumbling warning of a hiss before the cat swipes at his hand, sharp claws fully extended. It swiftly springs off the railing, sauntering past them and disappearing beneath the house, away from the unexpected visitors.
“ Kitty… ” Jeongguk pouts—a frequent occurrence tonight by the looks of it—devastation horribly evident in his demeanour as he makes grabby hands in vain. Almost chases after it but ultimately decides against it.
Taehyung tries to be comforting, but he can’t avoid his emphasis on the cat’s aggressive behaviour. Needs a lesson in thinking before he speaks. “Bun, your family owns two cats already. Ones that don’t look like they’ve survived a dumpster dive.”
Jeongguk gawks at him, offended. “You’re a monster. It looked lonely.” He glances at the cat’s hideout again.
“It looked feral .”
“And?" Jeongguk rests his elbows on the railing, still frowning at being rejected. "Now I have no one to play with.”
“That’s not true, you can play with me,” Taehyung suggests, winking in his direction.
Jeongguk vaguely scopes out the front of the house as he talks, attempting to get a view inside the house but the window is opaque and filthy, covered in grime. “Are you an adorable fluff ball who deserves an endless amount of cuddles?”
“Yes.” Taehyung shags up his hair. “I can meow if you’re into that, maybe even purr.”
Mid-sentence, Jeongguk stops dead in his tracks, cutting Taehyung's thought short. “Forget it, you fucking furry. Let’s just go inside.”
Taehyung mimics zipping his lips shut and tossing away the key. He gestures for Jeongguk to go in first, nodding towards the entrance.
Rather than refuse, Jeongguk tentatively steps past the threshold, because at the rate they’re going, they’ll spend the whole night bickering back and forth without ever making it inside the godforsaken house. And usually, Jeongguk wouldn't be opposed to their banter, but this time there’s money on the line that he's not prepared to lose out on.
Being a broke college student changes you.
If the outside of the house looks run down, then the interior is in far worse conditions. Dust and thin spider webs have claimed remnants of old furniture, blanketing every piece, not to mention the foundation itself seems close to collapsing, too—chipped brick walls and missing floorboards that urge against trespassing. Some of the wood has been raised altogether, a trail of exposed and rusted nails in its wake. What would’ve once been a main room for visitors is now only a shadow of that, empty and unwelcoming.
Overall, it's insufferably dull, the single notable thing about it is the awful smell of mildew, and there’s an irritating dripping sound from somewhere Jeongguk can’t identify. Possibly a leaking water pipe.
Jeongguk yawns, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.
“You know, I heard a shaman died here once.” Taehyung peers around the house, coming up behind Jeongguk.
Jeongguk leans into Taehyung’s hand on his lower back, humming to himself. “I believe it. I’d die here too—of boredom, I mean.”
“ Jeongguk ,” Taehyung groans, lightly shoving him forward then pulling him back quickly when he nearly face plants into a lifted floorboard.
"Too soon?" Jeongguk dusts himself off, stepping around the whole in the floor. “We should split up to investigate and see what makes this place so horrifying. Because as of right now? Totally not worth the hype. I’m more concerned for my safety, not my soul.”
Taehyung pauses from where he was aimlessly poking a cobweb, wincing at the dead bugs still tangled up in it. “Rule number one in all slasher flicks is literally to stick together, and you want to split up?”
“Hyung made this place seem like Hell’s gate, so I wanna’ see what all the fuss is about,” Jeongguk tells him, finding Taehyung’s hesitancy entertaining. “Who's the one scared now ?”
Taehyung bypasses Jeongguk with a grunt, nudging his shoulder before venturing further beyond the walls of the house where the moonlight doesn’t reach.
“I’ll show you scared,” he calls out, “try not to get lost without me, brat ."
Jeongguk's only response is a wave of not one, but both middle fingers to Taehyung’s retreating back, sticking his tongue out for good measure.
Now left alone to explore one side of the house while Taehyung checks the other, Jeongguk finds nothing of interest except for antique relics that seem decades old. If he was less worried about contracting some kind of disease by touching them, he'd take them as souvenirs to rub his victory in Yoongi's face. Maybe check how much they'd sell for—most likely close to nothing, otherwise people would've raided the whole house years ago.
In his curiosity, he accidentally knocks out a brick belonging to the deteriorating walls, and when he goes to put it back, more rubble ends up falling out. The block of cement no longer a proper fit, it jaggedly stays in place.
“Dumb old houses and their crappy structures,” Jeongguk grumbles, coughing whenever dust floats off a surface and settles into his lungs. He tucks his hair behind his ear, squinting under such minimal light as he sneaks around, passes multiple sets of furniture covered with white sheets—almost grey now from the thick layer of dirtiness.
Through a narrow hallway, Jeongguk notices a dull glow emanating from the end of it. It flickers, like it could go out any second. He follows it down the corridor, tiles creaking beneath him, quiet enough so that he’s still able to hear Taehyung on the other end.
“Hyung, there’s a weird light in here,” he calls out, finding the slight echo that bounces off the walls and resonates around the house mildly eerie. As he meets the end of the hall and takes a sharp right, he finds what appeared to be a sitting area of some sort—a library or a study. There are chairs outlined under embellished mantels, a crooked frame that contains a black and white picture of a family with their faces etched out, and, in the middle of the room, an odd sighting. “So this is the candle everyone talks about. It’s lit .”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s very cool,” Taehyung answers from the hallway, heavy footsteps getting louder as he joins him.
Jeongguk still staring at the flickering flame dancing against the wick. Hot wax melts along its sides, pooling at the base. “Someone must’ve done it before we got here, the candle isn’t even close to burning all the way through.”
"Hey, don't touch that, yeah? The curse may be bullshit but you don’t know what it’s being used for. Or if it’s... something sacred.”
Jeongguk only half listens, mind riddled with intrigue. The flame now moves with his breath, swaying slightly after every exhale, casting a large shadow on the walls. Their own shaded figures next to it.
There’s nothing innately special about it. According to the stories, something supernatural would’ve happened already. Jeongguk doesn’t find the significance in any of this, coming to the conclusion that it’s a complete waste of time.
Nonetheless, he still can’t help being enthralled by it.
He retrieves his phone from where it’s tucked in the waistband of his costume, opening the camera and hitting the record button.
“If it was sacred, then what would it still be doing here?” He counters quietly. Jeongguk points the lens directly at the candle just as he draws a deep breath.
“Here’s your proof, Yoongi.”
Effortlessly, and without a moment’s thought, he blows out the flame.
And it’s anticlimactic to say the least.
Nothing happens—besides the fact that they’re now surrounded by total darkness—and Jeongguk is once again left disappointed. He came here for the thrill, thought for sure this would lead to something interesting, be it his hyungs showing up to prank them, or any minimal sign that a ghost really does reside here.
He looks around the room, nibbles his lip and waits. The imaginary clock in his head ticking by.
“Gguk, didn’t I tell you not to mess around with anything?” It's scolding, but alert.
“ Mhm , I ignored that." He avoids Taehyung's attempt to pinch him.
They each take their time scanning the room, Taehyung shifting his weight between both feet. “So, what now?”
“Wanna’ fuck?” Jeongguk whispers mischievously, backing him up against one of the concrete pillars, hoping that a few kisses along his neckline will convince him.
Not entirely. But the temptation is there. “You’re telling me you wanna’ have sex for the first time in a dingy, run down haunted house that smells like dried piss?”
“I mean… it would be memorable. Maybe not that romantic, but I can compromise.” Jeongguk spreads his legs over Taehyung’s right thigh, “Come on, you have to admit it’d make a good story. Better than the one that already exists about this place.” He runs a hand down his arm.
Taehyung stalls, “There isn’t even a clean blanket lying around. Or a clean… anything.” He slides away from Jeongguk, examining the tattered tapestry that hangs from the ceiling. “This place is disgusting.”
There's a piercing boom that abruptly shakes the ground beneath them, only lasts a moment but successfully rattles the objects nearby. Some of them tipping out of place, others shattering completely. Jeongguk’s phone is one of them. In the commotion, it slips from his grasp and hits the floor, a spider web crack breaking the screen.
How fucking appropriate.
And before Jeongguk gets the chance to deliberate an explanation, as if on cue, a third voice makes itself known—it’s silky and rings deep, feels warm and inviting at the core, yet fills the atmosphere with something wicked. Sinister.
“Careful, darling, that’s not a very kind thing to say about someone’s home .”
It takes Taehyung and Jeongguk a fraction of a second to register that this isn’t a figment of their imagination, that something is actually there with them, but what ? Whipping around in tandem, their eyes frantically shoot back and forth, looking as far as their vision permits to search for the source while blinded by darkness. It’s difficult to discern anything in the dimly lit room, especially when being faced with dangers of the unknown, when logic quickly gets overruled by a dreadful sense of terror. Their hearts pump so forcefully that they can hear each beat in both ears. Neither of them able, nor willing, to make the faintest of sounds. No screams, no cries for help. A paralyzing fear that crawls through their veins and absorbs into every inch of their being. Somehow, Taehyung stiffly drags a rigid Jeongguk behind him, taking a protective stance, their sweaty palms clasping together.
And suddenly, there in the darkest corner, they see it—no, they see him .
An undeniably inhuman creature, with a set of unnatural features, that’s taken the form of a young man. He’s got inky black feathered wings that are larger than the entirety of his figure, expanding and fluttering ever so slightly. Needle-like appendages imbedded on the outer edges—like weapons. He lays there, on his side, presenting himself. One leg extended all the way while the other is kept bent at the knee, a studded boot clad foot situated on the floor, his elbow supporting the upper half of his body off the ground. A pose so nonchalant, yet equally as intimidating, and Jeongguk’s anxiously expecting him to strike at any given moment. His hands are holding onto something, though, a small bundle he continuously strokes with ring decorated fingers—an array of pointed claws that scratch it gently. And that’s when Jeongguk realizes: the cat. It’s wrapped up peacefully in his arms, tiny pink tongue licking at a single paw.
If it's hasn’t harmed a defenseless animal, it wouldn't harm them, either… right?
With a subtle tilt of its head, the creature’s horns are revealed—two short stubs that are thicker at the base and thin out near the top. A menacing reflection of another threatening part of him.
It’s his eyes, however, that stand out the most in the shadowy gap of space. Golden irises that Jeongguk’s been avoiding all along, the pair glowing like the centerpoint of a fire. Jeongguk is scared to imagine the sheer scale of his abilities but, if provoked, he could likely burn holes through them both.
But in the same way that he’s absolutely terrifying, a monstrous thing , he’s also… strikingly beautiful. Ash grey hair, sleek and lustrous, parted on one side, falling perfectly over the left half of his face just below the brow. The low collar of his jetblack dress shirt unbuttoned enough to expose the smooth expanse of his neck, every ridge flawlessly curved and accentuated. From what Jeongguk can see, even his skin goes unblemished. A face that could be regarded as angelic, though Jeongguk’s aware that he’s anything but.
Multiple gold chains hang off the garment’s right shoulder, dangling across his chest. Perhaps too ostentatious if worn by others, but it’s appropriately elegant on him. If all the details of the stories told are accurate, Jeongguk almost thinks it a shame that a creature as gorgeous as this one is forced to remain locked away in the recesses of a ramshackled house, tethered by a curse from centuries ago. Almost.
The creature stops petting the cat long enough for it to obediently slip out of his arms, scampering after a mouse headed in the opposite direction. If only it were as simple for Jeongguk and Taehyung to disappear, too, but they’ve glued themselves to their spots.
And with a single snap of elongated fingers, the creature partially illuminates the room again, muted white light contouring his shape as he slinks upright.
“Well, don’t be shy. Come closer so I can get a better look at you,” he croons, clearly amused judging by the subtle curve of his lips. A rather sweet smile that’s at odds with the otherworldly intensity that radiates off of him.
Jeongguk blinks, swallowing hard, carefully peers over Taehyung’s shoulder. Trembling hands roughly rub at his eyes, and he's certain that the alcohol has finally hit him in its entirety, has him seeing things that don’t belong—or rather, creatures that don't belong.
“I—” he croaks, unsure of what to say or do, this must be a dream. Has to be. Best-case scenario, he suffered a fall, hit his head and met his untimely death. In this version of Hell, he’s in an enormous bed surrounded by attractive men, facing much more preferable circumstances than he currently is.
Taehyung's in no better shape than him, lips parted in staggering shock. His grip on Jeongguk borderline brutal, white-knuckled and tense.
“Go ahead," the creature prompts, "at least tell me your names. I should know who to thank for freeing me, after all.” He’s unbothered by the silence, has probably grown accustomed to being feared, takes advantage of it instead. “Better yet, why don't you tell me which one of you is the virgin , hm?”
Jeongguk’s shout takes only Taehyung and himself by surprise. “How did you—”
“The ritual only works if it’s a virgin who performs it,” the creature informs smoothly, almost reverent in the way he addresses them despite crossing his arms in suspicion. “No virgin, no broken seal, understand?”
Voice small, Jeongguk cowers, scarcely manages a whisper. “I thought it was all a joke.”
Pleased, the creature finds his gaze, eyes shimmering under dim lighting. “Ah, I see,” he says in realization, “ You’re the virgin here. I should’ve known.”
Maybe it's because Taehyung knows how self-conscious Jeongguk gets about it, maybe it's out of some impulsive need to protect—Jeongguk isn’t sure—but Taehyung braces Jeongguk behind him, chest inflated and shoulders squared. “Hey, don’t say it like it’s bad to be a virgin, it isn’t. What’s virginity anyways, other than some fucked up societal construct that makes people feel bad when they don’t adhere to that immeasurable standard of finding the right person to lose it to?” He looks close to bursting a vein in his neck.
If Taehyung regrets his outburst, air quotes and all, he certainly doesn’t show it.
But Jeongguk wants to punch him for picking the worst time to defend his fucking honour.
The creature stares blankly, index finger slowly tapping on his arm. “I take it you’re great to be around,” he notes, each word dripping with sarcasm as he nods in questioning at Jeongguk. “However, your false bravado aside, that’s not the case where I come from, I’m afraid.”
Taehyung doesn’t stand down. “Yeah, and where the hell is that?”
“You guessed it,” the creature professes, edges of his glossed lips tipping into a smirk, “ Hell .”
Taehyung and Jeongguk fall silent, rendered speechless by what they already knew to be true but were still too afraid to come to terms with. Jeongguk openly stares at the creature, gaze fixating on his hands for probably the tenth time. All that silver on him distracting. Jeongguk feels unable to look away, nevermind wrap his head around the situation he’s purposely put himself and Taehyung in.
Of course this would happen to me , he thinks resentfully, panic rising when the creature stalks forward a step. Jeongguk would be the kind of person to fuck around and summon a demon, and on Halloween no less. If he wasn’t busy fearing for his and Taehyung’s life, he’d be laughing at how painfully cliché it is.
Jeongguk finds it difficult to breathe under these conditions, being nervous never fares well for him, especially since he usually resorts to misplaced humor or strained rambling, which he can feel on the tip of his tongue as the seconds tick down.
“Noo, don't eat me…” he struggles, realizing the severity of his mistake when the demon’s gaze on him intensifies. But he can’t hold it in, prone to babbling. “You’re so… sexy, ha… ” Jeongguk’s voice trails off, cracking near the end before he gulps.
“ Well .” The creature comes closer, his own voice smooth and low. When he smiles at Jeongguk and Taehyung, his teeth appear sharper, two fangs protracting from his canines. A threatening gleam catches them in the light. “I didn’t think we’d get to this part so soon.”
They finally proved the rumours are true, yet they won’t even live long enough to tell it. How predictable.
“No, p-please. Please don’t,” Jeongguk whines, trembling behind Taehyung, nearly on top of him given the way he can’t stop shaking. “I’d taste awful. My diet is literally soju, ramen and his come.”
“For fucksake—” Taehyung hisses, his nails leaving indents with the way they squeeze Jeongguk’s hands. Glancing cautiously towards the creature that’s now standing too close for comfort, observing them. He falters. “What exactly do you want from us?”
The creature’s eyes wander between them, until his gaze decidedly settles on Taehyung. “Oh, I could think of a few things, sweetheart,” he affirms wickedly, “but for starters, your names will suffice.”
A rather uncomfortable pause follows, Taehyung weighing their options while Jeongguk tries to figure out a plan for them to make it to the entrance with success. Realistically, he and Taehyung are taller than him, but what’s an advantage in height compared to unearthly strength, not to mention the deadly weapons covering his body?
“My… it’s Jeongguk ,” he whispers defeatedly, wary of where this will lead. Pressed up against Taehyung, he can feel the way he stiffens under the awareness that he’s up next.
“Taehyung,” he mutters, the waver in his tone not going unnoticed by the creature given how his brow quirks. Still defiant despite the situation at hand, Taehyung grunts, “Are you happy now?”
“ Ecstatic ,” the creature replies, expression alight with mischief, his nails playing with the gold chains wrapped across his chest. “You can both call me Jimin.”
It sounds modern. “Is that your real name?”
The creature—or, Jimin—blinks slow, shrugging as if untroubled. “No, but it was the name of the last human I ate centuries ago before receiving the curse, my actual name is too difficult for a mortal’s tongue to pronounce, so make of that what you will.”
“ Ate ,” Taehyung repeats, pressing a hand up to his forehead, shaky fingers brushing his hair away from his eyes. “You mean...eat? As in consume ?”
“Humans never fail to surprise me,” Jimin murmurs, eyeing them strangely, as though the answer is obvious, “are all of you this naive? The ones who end up here must definitely be.”
“M’gonna be sick,” Jeongguk mumbles, swaying against Taehyung’s back. Everything feels suffocating and Jeongguk is a little faint, the edges of his vision getting fuzzy.
Jimin responds to them the way an adult does to a child, with a hefty sigh. The difference being that he’s not human, and he’s nowhere near as patient. “To put it simply, I’m a demon—an incubus. I thrive on sex. What I eat is pleasure.”
A stunned, hiccuped giggle leaves Jeongguk, the room unmistakably spinning. To Taehyung, he mutters, “ hyung , he’s a real life Jennifer Check. He goes both ways .”
And Jeongguk’s gone fucking delirious.
“Am I supposed to know who you’re referring to?” Jimin asks, the clench of his jaw, as well as the subtle flex of those claw tipped fingers, betraying his composure. “Regardless, my preference for men is an acquired taste. I’ve always found them… infinitely more appealing. My lust for them keeps me young.”
Taehyung scoffs. “Well, that’s one thing we have in common.”
“Fantastic,” Jimin says bluntly, something akin to a frustrated snarl works its way up his throat and echoes along the room. He initially narrows his gaze on Jeongguk, until it softens.
“Now that the formalities are out of the way,” he smiles hungrily, sharp teeth twinkling, “why don’t you come closer, little one? I won't bite.”
Something leads him to believe that Jimin means he won’t bite yet .
Jeongguk, lured forward, brushes past Taehyung on unsteady legs as he makes his way towards Jimin. Feels a magnetic pull in his chest that keeps him moving, Jimin’s gaze on him one that Jeongguk can’t stray from.
When he’s near, just a breath away, Jimin leans forward, bringing a single claw beneath Jeongguk’s chin, tilting it upward. His eyes turn darker, hypnotizing. The world outside of Jimin’s voice loses its appeal, and Jeongguk blinks perceptively—finds himself wanting to hear nothing but that sound.
“Jeongguk, has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” Jimin breathes, stroking along the edge of his jaw gently, almost tenderly. Taehyung stiffens, distrust written all over his face. He anchors himself to Jeongguk, just in case—wants to let him know he’s safe, but also needs to feel that safety, too.
Jeongguk finds himself at a loss, struggling to comprehend anything besides the alluring sound of Jimin. “Y-yes,” he stutters.
“Hm,” Jimin notes, the momentary shift in his gaze from Jeongguk leaves him feeling empty and cold; he whines. “I bet I can guess who thinks you’re so pretty.” He glances between them. “Is it him? Taehyung ?”
Jeongguk trembles, the way he nods brings his hair to fall into his eyes. “Yes,” he gasps, “T-Taehyung.” For a moment, he worries what agreeing will bring, scared that Jimin will be inclined to hurt Taehyung because of it.
“Is that right?” Jimin’s voice feels like silk against Jeongguk’s skin, the words brushed against his ear but directed behind him. “Well, why don’t you tell Jeongguk that he’s pretty, Taehyung? I’m sure he’s aching to hear you say it again.”
Taehyung shuffles forward immediately, slotting himself in the middle, silently requesting for Jimin’s permission to do so. When he’s met with no retaliation, he dubiously cups Jeongguk’s face in both hands, leaving a few inches of space between them. “Ggukie, look at me, baby.”
Jeongguk blinks past the daze clouding his vision, finds it hard to focus on his surroundings, yet meets Taehyung’s eyes without a problem, attuned to his every word, as well as the subtle rise and fall of his chest.
“You know you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, right?” Taehyung’s lips quirk at his own admission, he’s repeated that same phrase endlessly since they met, but this time in particular, it tugs at something in Jeongguk’s chest.
Jimin leans in, draping a hand on their shoulders, claws dangerously close to piercing them. “Now, what do you say back, Ggukie ?” He parrots Taehyung’s nickname for him, like he’s testing the sound of it on his tongue, pronouncing it with exaggeration.
“Thank you,” Jeongguk whispers timidly, unsure of what to do with his hands, fighting the instinct to lock them around Taehyung’s wrists. But his palms also twitch for Jimin, has half a mind to touch him, too.
Would it be the same? Would Jeongguk find that his skin is just as smooth as Taehyung’s?
“Such a good boy,” Jimin simpers, detaching himself from them to wander around the spacious room at a measured pace.
Taehyung’s the only person who’s ever said that to him in a similar context, but Jeongguk keens at the praise from Jimin, warmth blossoming in the pit of his stomach.
Jimin continues, always keeping an eye on him like he’s monitoring his every move, “You know what happens to good boys, don’t you, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shakes his head, dumbfounded. Hoping for the best, but for some reason preparing for the worst.
“They get rewarded,” Jimin declares with a cadence. He pivots around on the heel of his boot. “Do you want your reward, Jeongguk?”
It almost seems like Jimin floats rather than walks towards him, weightless, carrying himself with this level of grace that Jeongguk vividly admires.
He nods this time, unconsciously. At first, part of him thinks the reward will simply be Jimin granting them their lives, allowing them to abandon the house unscathed.
But what he doesn’t expect is for Jimin to move in for a kiss .
His mind yells a warning in opposition, a feeble attempt at self-preservation, raising several red flags as he approaches. Jeongguk’s body, however, does anything but—automatically leaning into Jimin before he's even had the chance to act. A part of Jeongguk that demands he give the demon whatever it desires, to let it have his way with him and cast away his better judgment in favour of unveiling everything Jimin has to offer.
The first touch is explosive , a searing energy that rushes along the surface of his skin, hair on the back of Jeongguk’s neck prickling as Jimin’s palm ghosts over his cheek. They've barely made contact, but to him it's like being grabbed full force.
Jeongguk thinks he whimpers out loud, and Jimin confirms it when his mouth shows traces of a smirk. As his hand presses flat against his face at last, Jeongguk shuts his eyes at the sensation—wishes he hadn't so that he could've taken in Jimin's beauty up close, appreciate each feature fully.
But he forgets about it the moment Jimin joins their mouths together. Confident and firm from the start. Jeongguk nearly fails to respond, as well, dumb and dazed from the feel of Jimin's pillowy lips on his. The way he teasingly grazes against them preemptively, only to guide Jeongguk into a sweet-tempered kiss.
He allows Jimin to lead, not that he has much choice in the matter, and it's heavenly . Like the demon knows every trick to make Jeongguk melt. His desirability expressed in each artful movement, when Jimin angles his head just right or traces the spot behind Jeongguk’s ear that never fails to make him tingle. Seductive in its very essence.
When Jimin's tongue slithers out, tracing the seam of his lips, Jeongguk immediately grants him entry, not realizing its forked shape until it's toying with the roof of his mouth. He lets out a startled moan at the wetness, the way it glides over each ridge. Jimin steers it towards the back of Jeongguk's teeth, purposely avoiding the pad of his tongue while sucking at his lips with his own all at once.
But Jeongguk grows impatient, striving to push for more . Neglecting the fact that they're moving at Jimin's pace, not his, and that he could easily obtain the upperhand in an instant. Jeongguk’s overtaken by this heady feeling which encourages him to simply indulge.
The needier he gets, the more Jimin draws back. Kisses him hungrily one second, but then lightly pecks at the corner of his mouth the next—giving enough yet taking a lot more in return. Even when they share a heavy moan, each caress from Jimin is subtle.
Jeongguk just wants to do good , doesn’t understand why Jimin won’t let him deepen the kiss if he benefits from his desperation, should want to feed off that energy as much as possible. And yet, it seems like Jeongguk’s the sex-driven demon in this scenario.
Jimin never said he couldn’t touch him, and Jeongguk is tempted to see what would happen if he did, maybe it would urge him to finally kiss him like he deserves.
But it ends before Jeongguk feels like he’s gotten a proper taste of him, Jimin gently retreating his hand and putting some distance between them.
“Fuck, you’re perfect, little lamb.” Jimin dotes, breathing in his flowery scent. Jeongguk watches him with bewilderment, pawing at his chest and causing a rumble in his throat, content and pleased even as Jimin directs his attention over Jeongguk’s shoulder.
Jimin reprimands him tenderly, “Don’t be greedy. Taehyung needs a kiss, too, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t want him feeling left out.”
From behind him, Jeongguk senses the steady rise and fall of Taehyung’s breaths, warmth outwardly seeping into his already damp skin. The hands curled around Jeongguk’s hips will surely form bruises, pain mingling with the after effects of the muddled pleasure he experienced with Jimin—heightened when Taehyung speaks.
“ Yeah .” He craves it, Jeongguk can hear that he does.
Despite his nature, Jimin is nothing but forbearing as he guides Jeongguk beside him, going as far as tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and placing a chaste kiss against his brow. “Behave.”
Jimin turns towards Taehyung, beckoning him forward with a single claw. “You saw how I was with Jeongguk. No need to worry, I’ll be gentle.”
Taehyung’s shaking his head. “Don’t be, I can handle it,” he assures softly, the look he gives Jimin a mirror image of the one Jeongguk is used to seeing. The same heavy gaze that finds him when they’re alone and in private, a look that warms him from the inside out. The tension between Taehyung and Jimin so defined that it leaves Jeongguk breathless.
Jimin smiles like he knows, as though he can see more than either of them are willing to share, as if he can pinpoint the things that make them ache. Jeongguk bites his lip, remembering their kiss. Yearns for another.
His own need flares into something potent the moment he watches Jimin trace hard fingertips—the claws nowhere in sight now, retracting to blunt, human shaped nails—across Taehyung’s nape and jaw, then up to his mouth where he presses them in. Jimin groans when Taehyung lets them slip inside.
Jeongguk is at a loss, witnessing the way Taehyung consents to Jimin’s fingers prying open his lips; he’s pliant for a moment before he’s not, biting down and smiling against them—baiting Jimin. Daring him.
“How cute ,” Jimin rasps, following the dip of his fingers where they’re sealed tightly around Taehyung’s lips. He pulls them out moments later, dragging a sheen of spit against Taehyung’s lips which he smears with his own.
Taehyung moans into the kiss, startled by the way Jimin is suddenly on him, his body hard against his. Hands coming around his forearm, he squeezes around them in order to have something to keep him grounded; Jimin’s tongue and the non-subtle way it thrusts inside his mouth making it hard for him to breathe.
He gets what he gives.
Jeongguk notices his response to rough handling, the way he trails his fingers up past Jimin’s shoulders and neck, fiddling with the shorter strands of hair around his nape and tugging. Savours the way the demon grunts, clearly blindsided by the action, by Taehyung boldly fisting his hair.
Taehyung pulls again, swallows the sound of Jimin’s moans as they mingle with Jeongguk’s whines. Jeongguk, who's now pressed against them, watches Taehyung suck Jimin’s lower lip into his mouth and bite.
He jerks forward when a hand wraps around his throat, claws extending half way and teasing against his jugular. It makes Taehyung seek out more of that trapped heat, rubbing once against Jimin’s hard thigh then tugging at his hair some more. Until his fingers throb.
“Let go,” Jimin growls, leering at Taehyung so hypnotically. Evidently, he can tell what it does to Jeongguk. How it leaves him spinning and motivated to keep going, determined to fall forward into Jimin’s swollen lips and kiss him until his lungs give out.
“ No ,” Taehyung snaps back. His lips are sore when they meet Jimin’s this time around, but they’re just as unforgiving. Arching into it, Taehyung opens his mouth, lets Jimin’s forked tongue lick where it pleases before curling his own around it.
He looks inclined to spend the night doing nothing more than this—held under siege by Jimin and his lips. Jeongguk can’t blame him.
Knowing he won’t be anticipating it, Jeongguk brushes his lips against the column of Taehyung’s neck, almost kitten-like.
Jimin pulls away at that, another thin trail of saliva connected between his and Taehyung’s mouth, a picture of filth amidst Jimin tending to Jeongguk so gently.
Taehyung squirms in response to Jeongguk’s lips, because they’re both painfully aware of all the spots that rile each other up most.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin purrs, “you were supposed to behave.”
Jeongguk replies by way of bringing himself between their bodies, wide eyed and torn between who to stare at first. His gaze eventually distinct on Taehyung, whose chest swells up, affection making itself known where it shouldn’t be.
“It’s not fair, I just… wanted a turn, too.” Jeongguk’s crowded between them and seemingly unsatisfied, always wanting more than what he can handle. His back flush to Jimin’s chest, he meets Taehyung’s gaze and shudders, sliding a shaky hand up to Taehyung’s arm.
Jimin’s voice against his ear is sinful, wrapping around his flushed skin like a damp cloth—soothing and, to a degree, alleviating. “Go on then, sweetheart, no one's stopping you.”
Jeongguk’s stomach flutters up into his throat, fingers trembling as they prod the terse, lean muscle of Taehyung’s bicep beneath his costume. Fingertips sweaty and cold on the warm material.
He doesn’t wait for Taehyung to take the initiative, spurred on by Jimin’s previous request as he dives forward, grip loosening only to come back tighter. Jeongguk presses his forehead against Taehyung’s, gathering the means to shake off what’s left of his inebriated state. Wants to be fully lucid for this—for him.
Jeongguk lets his mouth drop open, a soft gasp escaping through parted lips as Taehyung sweeps his tongue across his cupid’s bow, wetting it. He nips at Jeongguk’s chin playfully, a fleeting invitation. It’s always like this, except they’ve never had an audience before.
Yet, it all feels just as natural.
Like Jimin isn’t a stranger, but rather an invigorator. Fueling them with a different type of energy.
Taehyung grabs ahold Jeongguk’s collar—a dirty habit at this point—to inch him closer when they both hear a tear in the fabric, a couple of threads snapping where the stitching lies. Attempting to hold back his laughter, Jeongguk strains a smile. Blames the suit for being flimsy and expensive, no anger to be found for the man in front of him. “So, you were serious about ripping my clothes off earlier?”
They speak in hushed whispers, like the conversation is a secret.
“We’ll try to hide this when you return it tomorrow,” Taehyung snickers, thumb smoothing over the ruined neckline, traveling further to do the same on one of his pulsing veins.
Jeongguk leans back in confusion, “You’re crazy if you think I’m getting rid of this.”
He’s met with a groan. “The only thing I’m crazy for is you . So will you please shut up and let me give you a kiss already?”
Taehyung cuts him off with a crash of their lips, Jeongguk’s words trapped and withering on his tongue. His mouth curves into a smile, eyes crinkling at the blatant cue and he’s adamant in the way he reciprocates, full of unrestrained enthusiasm and blistering lust. Both arms thrown over Taehyung’s shoulders and coiling around his neck.
Their minor interruption doing nothing to dampen the mood.
If anything, they’ve been here plenty of times before to know that they just end up falling back into things with renewed intensity.
Jeongguk stumbles back a step when Taehyung deepens the kiss, an unsympathetic bite to his full lower lip that’s quickly soothed by a darting tongue. He assumes it’s Taehyung’s hand that falls right above his ass, massaging the dip in his back, until he mentally registers its smaller size.
Turning his head to the side without breaking apart from Taehyung, Jeongguk sees Jimin observing them as usual. But his eyes are completely dilated this time, the golden rings disappearing and replaced with pitch blackness. Just by looking at him, Jeongguk feels a spike of adrenaline. His movements becoming rougher, slightly more animalistic .
He builds up a steady grind against Taehyung’s solid left thigh, a billowing ripple of heat swiftly kicking him in the abdomen. His cock growing increasingly hard and begging for relief.
Taehyung continues peppering kisses anywhere he has access to on Jeongguk’s face, particularly the tip of his nose and edge of his jaw. He moves lower, teeth snagging on skin, fully immersed in his effort to mark him up with reddish purple bruises. Jeongguk hears an utterance of a faint growl when Taehyung aggressively brings his mouth back to Jeongguk’s, likely in reaction to whatever influence Jimin has on them—or because he can feel that Jeongguk’s dick is comfortably being squeezed against him and his own is beginning to stir, too.
And Jimin's reaching out the instant Jeongguk looks away from him to refocus on Taehyung. His hands, cold yet soft, cupping the back of their necks and staying in place. With a firm maneuver, Jimin pushes their faces that much closer, as their bodies fuse together from the sheer proximity. They slot into each other perfectly, moving almost as a single entity.
It’s as if Jimin is the puppet master and they’re solely meant to bend to his will, yielding to the pull of their strings.
Unsurprisingly, Jeongguk doesn’t mind the thought of it, and he’s no longer certain what that says about him as a person.
But with no assurance that Jimin’s going to release them anytime soon, Taehyung and Jeongguk struggle to breathe. In the best way possible. Lungs burning as they fight to intake any amount of oxygen, blood rushing to their heads. Feeling weak at the knees, Jeongguk arches into Taehyung—whose hands are hauling his hips forward—for support and balance.
They must look pathetically indecent, Jeongguk’s grind morphing into something sloppy, unable to properly keep up his pace. A strangled moan ripping its way from his throat as Taehyung refuses to slow down, kissing him with frantic urgency.
If Jimin had decided to grab them by the front of their necks, using that same persistent grasp to choke them instead—
Jeongguk definitely would’ve come right then and there, embarrassed and apologetic.
And he swears he can come from this alone, just from Taehyung’s endless kisses. The spark they elicit each time proving to be something euphoric, always reeling them both back for more.
But, finally, in an act of mercy, Jimin drops his hands, grinning in satisfaction.
Taehyung and Jeongguk gulp for air, lips rubbed raw and eyes appearing bloodshot. It takes them several minutes to calm their breathing. “Shit,” Taehyung croaks, staying locked around Jeongguk in case he still needs it.
“What a fucking sight,” Jimin compliments, tongue running over his sharp canines, “could spend this afterlife and the next watching you two put on a show for me.”
Jeongguk whimpers in accordance with the idea, imagining how Jimin would keep him and Taehyung for himself—toys he’d play with whenever he wanted to. What’s more twisted is the way Jeongguk envisions himself enjoying it. If this is just a mere demonstration of how exhilarated Jimin can make them feel, Jeongguk wants to find out what he’s fully capable of.
A monster and his two pliant humans.
The thought brings his attention back down to the throbbing pulse between his legs and Jeongguk’s whimpers morph into little mewls the longer it goes unattended.
But Jimin notices, of course he does. No doubt the exact reaction he was expecting.
“It seems you’ve gotten worked up, darling.” Jimin’s scrutinizing gaze on his bulge makes Jeongguk squirm, made worse when Taehyung joins in. So much worse.
Specifically because of the way he chuckles darkly and what follows after.
“D’you want us to help you with this, bun?” Jeongguk gasps the second he feels a thigh rub against his cock, coaxing him, his hand shooting out to dig his fingers into Taehyung’s hip to get him to stop. Except it’s to no avail.
Jeongguk always suspected that Taehyung could pass as a fucking demon himself, but how he’s meant to deal with the both of them acting like this is beyond him.
“Wanna come,” Jeongguk admits weakly, “d-don’t care how.” His eyelids begin to flutter—and so do Jimin’s wings—when Taehyung increases the pressure.
Jimin coos, makes it sound degrading, “Cute, poor baby just wants to be taken care of, doesn’t he?”
A flash of warmth sweeps through Jeongguk, causing him to shiver, his body just as conflicted as the rest of him. Still, he nods wordlessly, burying his face into Taehyung’s chest to avoid Jimin’s prying eyes, as well as the extra layer of heat they bring to his cheeks. He hasn’t quit rutting against Taehyung, either.
“Then who are we to deny you of anything?”
All at once, there’s a loud screech of moving furniture, wooden pegs scraping across the floor. Taehyung momentarily halts his movements and Jeongguk peers up to see Jimin unveiling one of the couches from where it previously sat beneath an old, dust-ridden sheet. He motions it forward with the tilt of his fingers, putting his powers on display. But Jeongguk thinks this isn’t even the half of it.
The couch is surprisingly still intact—in fact, it oddly looks brand new. The wood framing polished, no damage in the slightest, and a beautifully ornate pattern dawns the fabric of every seat cushion, pillow, and skirt panel. Bright emerald with satiny gold detailing.
Everything in relation to Jimin is somehow so elaborately structured, a reflection of his elegance—minus the house itself. Jeongguk wonders if it’s because the plot of land is what’s kept him imprisoned for this long, a crumbling representation of the hex that confines him. Hideous and somber, a vast contradiction to what Jimin truly is.
Taehyung can’t help but laugh. “I was starting to think we’d have to continue this on the damn ground.” Keeping Jeongguk close, he moves to stand in front of the sofa.
Jimin hums, “We’ll get there eventually. But I’ve got something else for that.” He hints at it with a tone Jeongguk can’t quite decipher.
Though, it’s not like he actually tries to, not when there’s a much more pressing thought that occupies his mind.
Jeongguk whines unintentionally, fidgeting at Taehyung’s side. Doesn’t want to be staring at a couch if he could be getting thrown onto it instead.
“Already that desperate to get fucked, sweetheart?” Jimin asks teasingly.
Taehyung tenses at the question. “Wait, you know he’s never—”
Jimin acquiesces, giving Taehyung a look that tells the obvious: of course he knows. Nonetheless, he’s equal parts attentive as well as greedy for his own demands. Jeongguk’s reminded that he is a lust-seeking demon after all. “I’m well aware, darling, that’s why we have to get him ready for you first.”
“How considerate,” Taehyung grumbles. He gives Jeongguk a sidelong glance, a slow sweep down his body. Softer now, he brushes a single finger across Jeongguk’s jaw. “Gotta get you outta these clothes, Ggukie.”
Jeongguk hazily nods again, pliant under the combination of Jimin and Taehyung’s gaze; with nowhere else to go, he’s left feeling like cornered prey, something to be ravaged. And he loves it.
He whines pitifully, too hot inside his clothing as it is, never mind when he’s being held between two hard bodies, the material constricting him.
He swallows hard, the heat dizzying. “ Please ,” Jeongguk breathes, a pair of lips trailing low on his neck, the briefest hint of teeth making his heart race. “Just... move .”
“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Jimin laughs airily behind him, palming down Jeongguk’s sides, “We promise we’ll make you feel good.” His nails sting slightly through the costume as they encircle Jeongguk’s hips and squeeze.
Taehyung responds in kind to Jimin’s carnal demands, as well as Jeongguk’s silent cues.
It’s a matter of Jeongguk being told to keep still, and then doing everything besides that as Jimin and Taehyung move in sync to undress him. Taehyung is gentle in the way he spins Jeongguk around to face forward, undoing the zipper of his costume with the utmost care, breath tickling his nape.
The same can’t be said for Jimin, however, whose patience for what he calls a hideous human outfit wears thin and makes him scowl. Jeongguk gasps, protesting under the sudden chill that hits his bare arms once Jimin grabs ahold of the sleeves and tugs, tearing until they come off swiftly, sharp claws left clutching the tattered cloth.
“I liked that costume,” Jeongguk pouts, staring at the remains of his outfit where they’ve been tossed over Jimin’s shoulder. If he thought the mishap with his neckline from before wasn’t that bad, now the costume is unsalvageable. He hears Taehyung’s rumbling laugh behind him, mingling with Jimin’s. “I was Spider-Man.”
“You realize I have no idea what any of these references mean ?”
Jeongguk lets out a soft mewl as he’s passed between them, Jimin pulling the costume below his chest once the zipper is halfway down while Taehyung attempts to shrug it off of him further, until it sits around his hips.
Jeongguk had forgotten the underwear he’d slipped on that evening while getting dressed—soft cotton and pastel pink with short frills and a tiny bunny printed on the back, his favourite ones. Seokjin had gotten them for him as a birthday present last month and Jeongguk had worn them as a joke, not intending for Taehyung to take such a liking to them. It was the single pair he treated nicely whenever they were in a hurry— you’re wearing the bunnies , he’d say fondly.
Taehyung doesn’t directly make mention of them out loud, but Jeongguk feels him snap the elastic band against his hip in recognition before he continues.
A gentle push later, Jeongguk goes rigid when he’s led towards the couch, the armrest digging into his bare stomach as he’s bent at the waist and held there. Jimin’s hand is wonderfully heavy as it settles around his shoulder, keeping him still from the front. He hears, more than sees, the way Jimin reacts to his body for the first time, the faintest hitch of breath too high to belong to Taehyung. It fills Jeongguk with a bout of confidence, makes him soften under Taehyung's touch as the costume is dragged down slightly more, makes the fire simmering in the pit of his stomach begin to burn steadily.
Impatient, Jeongguk wriggles, attempting to part his legs in order to alleviate the pressure against his cock where it strains, but he frowns when he’s met with resistance. The costume pulls taut around his knees, keeping them tightly pressed together.
“Something the matter, bun? You’re moving around a whole lot.”
Colour tints Jeongguk’s cheeks. Taehyung’s speaking so casually, as if he isn’t slowly kneading his hand against the curve of Jeongguk’s ass, rubbing in delicately small circles while Jimin marvels at the sight.
He attempts to move again only for his efforts to be hindered; he’s held in place, exposed and shivering under Jimin and Taehyung’s shared attention.
“ Hyung ,” he complains, petulant.
Soft fingers push his hair back, trying to distract Jeongguk from writhing under Taehyung’s grip. Jimin does so tenderly, tipping Jeongguk’s chin and bringing his thumb to rest against the curve of his lower lip. Pushing it inside, Jimin presses against Jeongguk’s tongue and watches him with a smile while he struggles to articulate.
“Jeongguk, you’re going to have to speak clearer than that,” Jimin chides, deliberately sliding his finger down to the second knuckle; Jeongguk chokes around it, a wet gasp leaving his lips.
Jeongguk makes a soft sound in time with Taehyung’s hands, shifting his weight forward to stand on the tips of his toes, ticklish where Taehyung’s fingers smooth up his lower back and encircle his hips.
It makes him feel small, the relentless torture of Jimin and Taehyung touching him everywhere except where he aches the most. The finger inside his mouth pulls away, a string of saliva catching on his chin, and Jeongguk gasps. He tries to turn his head back as far as Jimin will allow him. “Tae—c’mon, touch me. Please… just —anything .”
Taehyung’s strained breath is a welcomed warmth, contrasting the chill that skirts down Jeongguk’s upper half. “Shit, why can’t I ever say no to you?”
Jeongguk could list all the times they’ve done this before, the countless days they’ve been late to class because neither of them could figure out how to keep their hands off each other in the morning, or the multiple study sessions that have ended with Jeongguk pinned against Taehyung’s mattress atop their crumpled notes.
And yet every single touch feels as though it’s the first.
Taehyung’s lips are soft where they press kisses into the dimples on his lower back, a different sensation to the subsequently sharp graze of teeth when he nips at the plump of his ass.
Unable to move any further, Jeongguk’s lips part on a trembling moan when he feels Taehyung’s palms spreading him open, followed by the sudden touch of his tongue.
“ Fuck ,” Jeongguk gasps, voice as unsteady as his posture. Instantly clenching in response, he teeters forward, head colliding with Jimin’s chest as he groans; the praises Jimin whispers in his ear after slanting downwards have him blushing.
A glaring reminder that a demon’s speech can be all sorts of vulgar.
Taehyung’s grip is bruising the closer he leans, and when he brings his tongue flat against Jeongguk’s rim with a drag, it absolutely steals his breath.
“T-Taehyung,” Jeongguk stutters, torn between arching into Jimin’s embrace and shying away from Taehyung’s touch, or vice versa. The pressure in his groin grows tenfold, and Jeongguk can’t contain the sounds he makes in response, composure nonexistent by this point.
The sounds coming from Taehyung don’t make it any easier on Jeongguk when he hears his tongue wetly push inside him in an otherwise silent room, save for Jimin’s amused little purrs. Taehyung’s lips part to drip saliva onto Jeongguk’s skin before he’s roughly sucking at the rim.
It’s an obscene kind of squelch, Jeongguk melting under the overpowering sensation. Standing proves a difficult task on shaky legs, having to keep still under the assault of Taehyung’s tongue and heavy hands.
Jimin’s fingers aren’t idle either, smoothing down Jeongguk’s back, between his shoulders where the muscle pulls tight through his strain; he laughs, pulling Jeongguk up with a cradle of his jaw.
“Hm, you’re adorable like this,” he states, brushing a finger against Jeongguk’s cheek where it’s flushed and hot to the touch. “So eager and needy. Tell Taehyung what you want from him.”
Jeongguk’s head spins, mind drawing a blank. Not sure what he wants anymore, other than to come, be it under Taehyung’s tongue or around his cock. But when he tries to speak, Taehyung’s tongue curls against his walls, and all sensibility vanishes.
Jeongguk can do nothing but take what he’s given, except he still craves . He’s been so patient since the night began, when he and Taehyung found themselves on a beer stained couch instead of this one. The only thing that hasn’t changed is how his cock steadily throbs where it hangs heavy between his legs, untouched and dripping.
Shakily, Jeongguk reaches behind himself in search of Taehyung’s hair and balls a fist into it, propelling him closer and holding him still; the angle is awkward when he grinds down, but it grants him a token of relief after this long.
“More,” Jeongguk groans, a guttural noise slipping past his lips. That’s what he wants—so much more… but from the both of them.
Jimin’s crouched at his side now, hand moving from where it was previously squeezing on his waist and dipping lower to carefully reach for Jeongguk’s cock, a claw faintly tracing the slit. Jeongguk’s knees come together as he jolts, trapping Jimin’s hand so that he can’t move it—he’ll be damned if he loses out on the attention it’s being given. Pushing against Jimin’s fingers in sync with Taehyung’s tongue has him whimpering at a fumbling speed.
He cries out when Jimin sympathetically curls his fist around his cock in a loose circle, urging Jeongguk to fuck into his hand.
“I’m being nice because you’ve earned it,” Jimin murmurs, the light kiss he gives Jeongguk’s pouting lips meant to be a tease, much like how he refuses to tighten his grip and touch him properly. Even Taehyung has followed his lead, circling Jeongguk’s rim with the faintest of licks rather than fucking him with the full span of his tongue as he was before.
“I’m gonna’ fucking kill you,” Jeongguk pants, becoming increasingly bold as he writhes between them.
It was meant for Taehyung but it’s Jimin who makes a sound low in his throat, delighted, gripping Jeongguk’s cock a little tighter in warning. Dragging the foreskin down the tip, he strokes him slowly, enough to rouse more precome from the slit.
Taehyung grabs Jeongguk’s ass in large palms and parts his cheeks, letting the air hit his wet rim, deviantly eyeing the way Jeongguk clenches around nothing. Leaving him painfully empty inside where he wants to be full.
“Both of you,” he whispers, pointedly staring at Jimin, “want your tongue, too… please?”
Jimin’s sharp fangs twinkle beneath a smile at the request. “Oh, baby, I wish you’d asked sooner,” he says huskily, pressing a parting kiss to Jeongguk’s forehead before he’s moving from the seat cushion and next to Taehyung.
For a moment, no hands are on him, but he hears a soft rustling, as well as a mixture of wet sounds behind him. And when Jeongguk looks over his shoulder, he moans gruffly, finding the sight before him too much to handle. Jimin’s not beside Taehyung, but pressed flush behind him, one hand against his clothed stomach as he kisses him, their tongues peeking between their lips.
Taehyung is left breathless and lax when it ends, nosing along the curve of Jimin’s throat while Jimin stares at Jeongguk.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Jeongguk parts his legs as wide as he can once he manages to wriggle the costume off his ankles, shucking away his shoes in the process, couldn’t care less about how unceremoniously he does it because the reaction to his exposure is immediate.
“You’re just gorgeous all over,” Jimin murmurs, and Jeongguk almost doesn’t register it before Jimin’s dipping his head and dragging the tip of his tongue across his rim languidly.
Distantly, through the buzzing in his ears, Jeongguk thinks—knows—that he can come like this if he tries, has done so on multiple occasions in the past from a lot less. Jimin’s tongue works in and out of his clenching rim, forked and winding deep. Makes Jeongguk feel impossibly full and wet inside. Fangs nearly cutting into skin.
Taehyung crowds his side, breath fanning the shell of Jeongguk’s ear as he tells him how good he’s doing, how Jeongguk is going to look beautifully owned on his cock first before he lets Jimin get a piece of him, too.
“That’s what you’ve been looking for, right? For me to fuck you?”
“ Yes ,” Jeongguk whispers, arching unsteadily into Jimin’s thrusting tongue as it laps against him in tight circles; his arms on the couch falter when Jimin spits, purposely missing his rim so that his thumb can collect it and hook inside briefly, keeping Jeongguk exposed and vulnerable. His moans sound more like mewls. And, in his haste to be touched along every inch, Jeongguk brings Taehyung’s hand between his legs, urging him to grab his cock. Eyes pleading.
Taehyung, clearly wanting the same, yields to him. Moving onto his knees, he crawls towards Jimin where he’s busy nipping tiny marks along the inside of Jeongguk’s thighs.
With a little more pressure, his fangs could easily break skin.
“Make me come,” Jeongguk pants, wiggling from side to side as Jimin’s tongue repeatedly catches on the rim. He slumps forward on a choked whimper, knees buckling at the sudden feeling of a large hand wrapping around his cock and stroking him fast.
All he lets out is a string of rambled moans, Jimin and Taehyung working him into a steady frenzy that begins to build from deep within his chest, down to the tips of his toes.
Jimin’s composure cracks, and soon he’s pulling Jeongguk back onto a thick, very human-like finger instead, stretching him out in time to Taehyung rubbing the tip of his cock and pressing against the underside of his balls. A delicious kind of torment that rips through him.
But it’s Jimin’s press of a second finger that has Jeongguk crying out; no forewarning nor slow ease, just two fingers sliding inside and rubbing close to his prostate, then pulling out only to do so again much harder. Jimin’s bulky rings snagging on his rim deliciously.
Gingerly peeking over his shoulder, Jeongguk is left dumbstruck the second he sees Jimin under this light. If there’s anyone who’s unforgivably gorgeous in the room, it’s him. The sight of his wings rustling enthusiastically, as well as the tip of his forked tongue joining his fingers in Jeongguk’s ass makes him hiccup; he can’t hold off much longer, can barely focus past the tears that begin to blur the corners of his eyes.
Of course, Taehyung decides it’s the perfect time to slide underneath his body, dragging his tongue down Jeongguk’s cock and against his balls, lovingly taking each one into his mouth.
“ M’gonna ...” Jeongguk slurs, pushed under the force with which he’s being handled. Body trembling, his stomach grows taut and he clenches determinately around Jimin’s fingers.
“Come for us, Ggukie.” He can’t even be sure which one of them says it, but he moans the second he hears it, the broken sound a product of Jimin and Taehyung’s encouragements for him to come.
And, fuck, does he.
Vision flashing white, Jeongguk swears he loses feeling in his hands when he squeezes them tightly against the armrest as the rest of him releases. Thick white ropes hit the lower part of his stomach and drip past his shaft, where Taehyung’s mouth was formerly, and onto Taehyung’s fingers—stroking him, messy and slick.
Jeongguk is left hanging off the side of the couch loosely, feet lifting from the ground as he tries to regain control of himself. The heave of his chest is heavy and laboured, and he needs a minute—or five—to properly come down from his high.
However, Taehyung’s words still ring in his ears, the implication of him fucking Jeongguk after all. And whether he said it in the heat of the moment or genuinely meant it, Jeongguk keens at the thought.
Sliding his body fully onto the couch with Taehyung’s help, he tiredly flips onto his back, grabbing one of the throw pillows to cover between his legs—as if he’s got any reason to be shy anymore.
“Did so well,” Jimin groans, standing from his place on the floor, “so fucking well.” He grabs Taehyung’s wrist in a vise just as he’s about to wipe his hand on Jeongguk’s discarded costume. But before either of them can react, Jimin leans forward to lick the remnants of Jeongguk’s come from his fingers.
Taehyung watches in awe as Jimin sucks on each digit hungrily and goes over them several times even once they’re already clean. Jeongguk, on the contrary, slings a forearm over his face when his spent cock twitches at the way Jimin throws his head back in satisfaction, like he’s gaining power the more he consumes. The golden rings in his eyes more defined now.
Glancing in spite of himself, Jeongguk catches the image of Taehyung dragging Jimin into a kiss, using the spit soaked hand to pull him forward by his hair. He’s glad that they seem to forget about him for the time being, too embarrassed to admit how much he likes looking at them even though the evidence is right under the pillow he miserably clutches onto.
Jimin breaks away with a shove to Taehyung’s chest, visibly revitalized. “Why aren’t you naked yet?” His growl is more than disgruntled.
“Why aren’t you ?” Taehyung teases, and Jeongguk worries he might be pushing his luck when Taehyung’s deft fingers trail down to undo the belt of Jimin’s pants without breaking eye contact.
Jimin looks at him in mild amusement, not making any effort to prevent him from going further. “What are you doing?”
Taehyung shrugs, “Wanna’ see what you’ve been hiding from us.” He’s glancing down as he slides the zipper open tentatively, tilting his head back up after its reached the bottom. “Is that a problem?”
“I don’t need to be undressed, sweetheart, the clothes are just for show.” Jimin smirks, brushing a finger along the slope of Taehyung’s nose. “But if you’re the one who’s offering, then I suppose I don’t mind.”
“It’s no fun if I can’t take my time with it,” Taehyung clarifies with a grin. Removing the thin, charcoal leather strap from where it’s looped around his slacks, he holds it in his palms, tugging at the ends. Even from a few feet away, Jeongguk notices the buckle—a bronze snake with radiant gold bands that coils around the belt, its scales and other markings outlined in black.
Carelessly, Taehyung tosses it to the side, letting it hit the ground with a clatter, his priorities elsewhere. He bends down so that he’s at eye level with Jimin’s crotch, his head unintentionally blocking off Jeongguk’s view from where he lies on the couch.
But what he can see is the way Taehyung raises both hands to glide up and over Jimin’s thighs before he’s hooking them into his waistband, peering up at him the entire time while doing so. With a single haul, he begins to take them off, yanking right away when the tight material gets caught on the ample plump of Jiimin’s ass.
As the pants eventually pool around his boots, Taehyung finally lowers his head. And Jeongguk holds his breath the instant Taehyung mutters fucking hell beneath his own. Jeongguk’s body inconsistently rigid to the way both eyes frantically shift between them.
Jimin snaps his fingers so that the slacks disappear into thin air, no hint or trace of boxers clinging to his body, which must mean… he’s completely bare.
“What, cat got your tongue? I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” Jimin chuckles.
In his shock, Taehyung turns back to look at Jeongguk, who meets his gaze with a questioning pinch of his brows. Without speaking, Taehyung shuffles away from Jimin, far enough to reveal what Jeongguk has been unable to catch a glimpse of. Until now.
He sits up with an unsteadying amount of quickness to appreciate what’s in front of him—Jimin standing there, in all his fucking glory, with the largest cock Jeongguk’s ever seen.
It hangs, hard and thick, between a pair of smooth but sturdy legs.
Unconsciously, Jeongguk edges forward off the couch, relinquishing the pillow and falling to his knees, which thump against the wood as they come into contact with it. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe it does but Jeongguk is too preoccupied with crawling towards them anyway.
The closer he approaches, the more Jeongguk observes the differences in Jimin’s cock compared to that of a human’s. Though it’s also flesh coloured, it bulges twice along the shaft, the one near the base slightly bigger than the other. What it lacks in length, it definitely makes up for in girth. But Jeongguk thinks its tapered head could reach inside him perfectly—
“Better close your mouth, baby,” Jimin taunts, reaching out to stroke the side of his face, “unless you’re planning on using it.”
“Can I?” Jeongguk says hurriedly, eyes pleading. He’s only ever had Taehyung’s cock in his mouth before, which is big in its own right, but Jimin’s is tantalizing, pointed directly at him, and he needs a taste. Just one.
Taehyung makes a noise in accordance beside him, a comforting palm placed over Jeongguk’s leg where he kneels. “I’m sure he’s been waiting for this all night,” Taehyung gloats, no longer speechless, “haven’t you, Jimin?”
The demon tilts his head at Taehyung’s testful attitude, shooting him daggers before turning to address Jeongguk, who sits there timidly. “You’re impossible to resist, you know that?”
Inwardly, Jeongguk smiles because that’s what Taehyung always tells him, too.
Jeongguk doesn’t pause for Jimin to explicitly give him permission and Jimin doesn’t make him. Instead, he delicately brushes his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair with one hand and lifts his cock with the other.
Without thinking, Jeongguk bats Jimin’s hand away and replaces it with his own, belatedly realizing that this is the first time Jeongguk has dared to actually touch him—while Taehyung had no trouble doing so, Jeongguk had acted like he didn’t deserve to.
But with Jimin’s cock in his hand, weighted and full, he recognizes just how much he’s been missing out on. And something sparks within him, this pure salacious desire to drive Jimin wild like he’s been doing to them, to have him at their mercy. No more inhibitions.
In the back of his mind, Jeongguk thinks that’s what Taehyung’s been trying to achieve all along.
On the initial stroke, Jimin groans as Jeongguk gets his feel of him, when he marvels at the flared ridges that circle the width of Jimin’s cock, grabbing tighter so they bulge through the spaces between his fingers as he moves his hand back and forth.
Even with relatively big palms, Jeongguk still can’t manage to wrap it entirely around Jimin’s shaft, so he twists his hand to reach every inch of it instead, making sure no part of it goes unstimulated. It causes Jimin’s cock to swell with excitement, and Jeongguk’s chest to swell with pride.
Clear beads of precome ease the slide, coating his length as Jeongguk gathers them from where they’re spilling over at the tip. He wants to capture them with his tongue rather than his thumb, but decides to hold off a while longer. Until Jimin’s eventually forced to drag Jeongguk’s mouth to his cock, searching for any kind of relief.
“It’s so pretty ,” Jeongguk states admiringly, just as he grazes a blunt nail along the thick, prominent vein that lies on the underside of his cock. Baiting.
Jimin’s knees buckle slightly when Jeongguk presses directly against his frenulum, a technique he loves using on Taehyung often. “Mm, not as pretty as you...” He doesn’t look as affected as he sounds, intonation in Jimin’s voice reflecting his quickly fracturing demeanour.
Taehyung intertwines Jeongguk’s free left hand with his right one, resting them both on his lap with a soothing squeeze. Jeongguk does it back, but with more pressure. The heat radiating between them spurs him on.
Leaning forward, Jeongguk checks to make sure Jimin is watching him when he ultimately gives his cock an experimental lick, kittenish and barely there. It tears a breathless grunt from them both—Jimin because of the fleeting sensation, and Jeongguk because of the fist that’s suddenly digging into his scalp.
He leans in again but this time, rather than a lick, he gives the head a kiss. Small pecks that he then litters all the way down Jimin’s length, keeping them featherlight, spaced out between random intervals. Going even slower when the fingers in his hair tense.
“No teasing, darling,” Jimin cautions, stares down at him with something menacing, “I’d hate to lose my patience.” Jeongguk’s cock stirs at that, already plumping where it rests against his inner thigh.
Taehyung, however, is scoffing next to him, perplexed. “That’s right, Ggukie, I forgot that there’s only room for one blue-balling jerk in here and it’s the guy who’s a literal sex demon.” He deliberates while angling his chin up. “No wonder you haven’t gotten laid in centuries,” he adds bitterly.
Jimin’s smile is sickly sweet when he gently ceases Jeongguk’s movements. “Taehyung,” he emphasizes each syllable, “I’d mind my tone if I were you.”
A grin. “Or what?”
Ignoring them with an irritated roll of his eyes, Jeongguk doesn’t give Jimin the chance to follow through with his threat because he’s taking him into his mouth all at once. Pushing down as much as he can. But it ends up being more challenging than he thought.
“ Shit .” Jimin’s strident moan resonates throughout the room at the sudden onslaught, bracing himself against Jeongguk when he stumbles, before Jeongguk is pulling off just as fast. Jimin’s wings are moving more than ever, a frantic build up. What was a rhythmic fluttering is now an uneven flailing, jeopardizing the furniture that still surrounds them. And his reaction instantly has Jeongguk going back for more.
He didn’t consider how incredibly big Jimin would feel inside his mouth, lips absurdly stretched in an attempt to accommodate his size. Can hardly fit more than half his cock because the bulge near the middle acts as a barrier that prevents him from going any further.
So he works with what he has, and he makes it messy .
Jeongguk sucks strenuously, does his best not to swallow the immense amounts of spit that accumulate in his mouth, devotedly twisting his hand around the parts he can’t quite reach. He’s never admitted out loud his love for everything sloppy—kisses, rimmings, blowjobs… sex?—but he figures it would’ve been easy enough for Taehyung to have caught on, since he always blushes profusely whenever too much spit is involved.
But that’s the thing, it’s never too much.
As soon as Jeongguk senses how all the drool spills from his mouth and dribbles past his chin, a blazing flame creeps up to the center of his chest, expanding outwards with each passing minute.
And when some of the spit lands on Jeongguk’s cock, hot and viscid, he almost loses it, whining around Jimin like he’s been scorched until the vibrations accidentally cause his hips to jolt forward. The intrusion takes Jeongguk by surprise and causes him gag, wrenching himself off to avoid choking.
Taehyung goes to rub his back, wanting to help on instinct, but Jeongguk simply squeezes his hand again, a nonverbal sign to show that he’s okay. He only takes a second to shake away the feeling, urging himself to relax before eagerly slipping Jimin inside again. Determined to make him reach his breaking point.
“Easy now, sweetheart—slow down… don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Jimin’s words are that of concern, but his body and its response to Jeongguk’s constricting mouth are just as desperate as he is.
Dazedly, Jeongguk stops long enough to speak, though his lips remain on Jimin’s shaft, giving him open mouthed kisses the whole time. “Thought you had no patience for slow?” He croaks, voice sounding horribly hoarse as if Jeongguk is the one half wrecked—in a way, he is.
Jeongguk resumes at a faster pace just to spite him.
The way his tongue meets the crown of his cock is with less of a flick and more of an extensive drag, swirling it in circles after he’s wrapped his lips around the flared head. Sucks roughly enough that the smooth muscles on Jimin’s abdomen contract beneath his fitted shirt. It proves difficult to hold his cock in place when Jeongguk’s hand repeatedly slips along the length, all the spit and precome that runs along the sides making the slide slick.
But the lewd squelching gets louder as more collects between Jimin’s cock and Jeongguk’s hand, a crude frequency of wet that sinfully pierces their ears.
When Jeongguk takes Jimin into his mouth again, he takes him down lower, willfully breathing through his nose as he allows himself to reach just past the first bulge, staying still once he does. He feels the tip of Jimin’s cock nudge at the back of his throat as the rest of it seems to twitch on the pad of his tongue.
Jeongguk comes to the conclusion that Jimin looks beautiful from any angle, much like Taehyung does. When he glances up at him, mouth stuffed full and gaze unwavering, Jimin’s neck is strained, veins protruding as his teeth latch onto his lower lip. Even his horns appear longer from below.
His poetic beauty more intimidating than any other part of him. A face that inspires envy.
Jeongguk would happily suck the fucking soul out of Jimin—if he had one to begin with.
Without fail, Jimin’s eyes fall dark—an all too familiar black shade—when they meet Jeongguk’s, and the hand Jimin had rested on his head begins to move. He may be trying to guide him, grip firm and incessant in his hair, but Jeongguk is ultimately the one leading. Confirms it himself when Jimin’s fingers falter at a particularly forceful suck that Jeongguk gives him.
He feels Taehyung push up against his side, mouthing at the spot on his shoulder he knows makes Jeongguk squirm. And, on impulse, Jeongguk darts their tangled hands towards his own leaking cock when Taehyung bites down harshly. But he pays Jeongguk no attention—won’t break their hold on each other to reach for it.
Distracted by the unfurling heat between his legs, somehow now more intense after he already came, Jeongguk chokes again when Jimin thrusts with more vigor. Gurgling as more drool is fucked from his throat.
“Getting hard just from having me in your mouth, Ggukie?”
Jeongguk inhales, lungs stinging, as Jimin lets him pull back. He must look filthy . “Maybe.” He sniffs after a weary breath. “But you’re the one who’s close to coming.”
Grabbing his chin before Jeongguk can protest, Taehyung dives in for a kiss, eliciting a grunt from Jimin in the process. And Jeongguk yanks him forward so that their lips connect with the head of Jimin's cock nestled between them. Tongues laving over the crown, fast and unstabilizing.
Jimin doesn't have to say he's on the edge of an orgasm because the extending claws that refrain from digging into the skin of their necks is telling enough.
The way Taehyung surges forward and sucks Jimin's cock down is mesmerizing as he sets a stern rhythm from the start. Bobbing his head back and forth and slurping at the underside of his shaft, he works Jimin up but refuses to finish him off.
Jeongguk almost touches himself when Taehyung manages to get his lips near the base, visibly subduing his gag reflex so that the air puffing from his nose tickles at the unruly, coarse pubic hair that's only a few inches away.
But the push is countered with a lingering drag backwards, and Jeongguk notices how Taehyung subtly bares his teeth, scraping them along Jimin's entire length before pulling off completely.
With a chest coiling growl, Jimin punctures Taehyung's bottom lip with the elongated nail of his thumb, drawing a tiny droplet of blood.
"You fucking asshole," he sneers, seemingly calm if not for the blazing anger behind his eyes. His cock, however, drips excessively.
Taehyung laughs lightly, swiping his tongue over his split lip and licking at the bloodied skin. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me so far, demon ."
Jeongguk tries to suppress the pang in his groin, grabbing for Jimin's cock and lifting it out of the way. Lapping at the drool that hangs from Jimin’s ballsac, Jeongguk takes one of his balls into his mouth, feeling the weight of it on his tongue, simultaneously moaning around it when Jimin growls.
It's this simmer that threatens to turn into a boil, an increasingly suffocating turbulence of heat that takes over when Taehyung joins him, capturing the other ball with his lips.
“A menace,” Jimin pants, “the both of you.”
Jeongguk feels his balls draw up while Jimin's cock pulses in his palm. He sucks a little harder, a little meaner , before releasing it with a pop, immediately moving towards the head just as Jimin’s come spurts from the tip. He swallows down as much of it as he can, a subtle stream that never seems to end, until he’s had his fill. Purposely letting some of it bubble past the seam of his lips when he flicks his tongue at the slit.
The thick string of saliva that keeps Jeongguk’s swollen bottom lip attached to Jimin’s cock is promptly seized by Taehyung, who licks it away before he’s capturing Jeongguk’s mouth in a kiss, chasing the remnants of come lingering inside, behind his teeth and against his tongue.
And Jeongguk knows that if not for the hands on him, he’d fucking dissolve.
He rubs his thighs together when Taehyung presses a teasing kiss against the tip of Jimin’s cock which, unsurprisingly, still hangs fully hard.
“What, did we wear you out already?” Taehyung taunts, staring up at Jimin past the overgrown fringe that covers his eyes. Jimin shakes him off with a gentle flick of his wrist.
In this light, he's more imposing than before, looming over them with a stance that resembles something territorial. A clear reminder of where they are and who they’re with. But none of that can eliminate the way Jimin had fallen into them, surrendering to their every move. Even when they were the ones on their knees.
“Quite the opposite,” Jimin corrects, “I haven’t felt this strong in years.” He takes ahold of Taehyung’s jaw, cradling it when, realistically, it would take him no effort to crush it. An empty warning, however, because Jeongguk knows that Jimin needs them more than he’d ever want to kill them. Driven by a survival instinct he can only hope contains a genuine source of attraction, one that he isn’t even sure demons are capable of.
“Humans, on the other hand… they’re so frail. Tire before I’ve even gotten the chance to start.”
Jimin’s foot wedges between Jeongguk’s legs, boot tapping at his calf so they spread further apart. “But I’ve never had two at my disposal, either, and I’m nothing if not generous.” He smiles with certainty. “I think our baby deserves to be put out of his misery, Taehyung.”
Jeongguk’s breath hitches, and he’s eagerly nodding as he clutches onto Jimin’s muscled thigh, shooting Taehyung an imploring look to do just that. To give him what he’s been wanting.
“Hyung, please .”
The room suddenly feels bathed in heat, sweltered by the smell of sex and an insurmountable tension between him and Taehyung that’s been steadily building throughout the course of their relationship. Jeongguk’s heart beats wild beneath his ribcage.
And the air shifts when Taehyung loses his resolve.
Wordlessly undressing in a hurry, Taehyung strips himself of his suit, boxers being pushed down and sneakers being thrown off in concurrence. Jeongguk drinks in the sight of his naturally tanned skin. His legs, toned from long nights of soccer practice and their early morning runs, now fully on display. Soft stomach dipping when Jeongguk’s fingers brush over it, traipsing down the thin trail of hair that leads to his half hard cock.
He’s tempted to take it into his mouth, too. Have Taehyung fuck his throat so that Jeongguk’s lips go numb and his jaw grows positively sore, but the need to have it fuck him elsewhere outweighs that desire.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Jeongguk croaks, welcoming the feel of Taehyung when he returns, standing to join him. Knees slightly cracking from being on the floor for so long.
“Not too bad yourself.” Taehyung’s lips come just beneath Jeongguk’s jaw and he gasps, a delicate nipping leaves Jeongguk to curl into him. Press up against him and feel the weight of his cock as it slides against his bare stomach.
Their kiss only heightens, kindled by the urgency of it all, and Taehyung ensures that none of Jeongguk goes untouched. Hands grip at his waist then slide up, blunt nails grazing his chest until they brush against a hard nipple—where Jeongguk is most receptive. He focuses on the sensation of being pet, curving into Taehyung’s mouth when it begins to drift past his collarbone.
He whimpers. Taehyung feels hot against his nipple as he brings his tongue flat against it, then sucks. Barely giving Jeongguk a moment to gather himself as he begins doing so to the other nipple, as well, alternating until Jeongguk tips his head back heavily and he groans.
Finding Jimiin’s gaze across the room, Jeongguk sees him lounged on his side on the couch that’s now farther away, amusedly propping his cheek on one hand. “Don’t stop on my account,” he tells Jeongguk rather lazily, “I feed even when I’m not participating.” The implication that Jimin gets off on simply watching is enough for Jeongguk to comply.
Taehyung’s palms splay out across his lower back, gently guiding him, and Jeongguk feels weightless in his arms. Especially when he’s lifted up for a brief moment, legs curling on either side of Taehyung’s waist.
He’s momentarily confounded when, upon being lowered onto the ground, his back is met with plush fabric—something that wasn’t there before, which his chafed knees can attest to.
Jeongguk breaks the kiss to look below himself, breathless and giggling. There’s a plush rug beneath their bodies that’s surprisingly comfortable in contrast to its dark color, as obsidian as Jimin’s wings and equally as soft. He fiddles with the little tufts that tickle his chin, and finds Taehyung smiling down at him fondly, sort of giddy.
“I didn’t think sex demons cared much for comfort, just fucking.”
Jimin snorts from where he’s reclined, and Jeongguk sees him roll his eyes. “We don’t, but I’m not exactly fucking another pair of demons, am I?”
“Debatable.” Taehyung says against Jeongguk’s neck, his lips trailing down, lower and lower until they settle against his navel, tickling him when his tongue comes out. “Since you’re so set on comfort, why’d you choose a rug and not a fucking bed ?”
Jimin’s face, so captivating yet daunting, comes into view. He’s standing above them once again, his wings curtailing any light that attempts to filter through the open windows, casting half his profile in shadows. “Beds are too unreliable, flimsy and fragile, and I don’t like the idea of them breaking while I play with my food.”
“ Fuck, did you have to say it like that?” Jeongguk moans, turning his head to the side and pressing into Taehyung’s lips after they’ve left feverish kisses against the skin of his hips, stomach and inner thighs—specifically near his cock, which twitches with interest.
Jimin hunkers down, smiles wide and sweet. “Mm, you’ll enjoy it even more when I get my hands on you.” He hovers a claw over Jeongguk’s nipple but doesn’t make contact. “Once you can finally handle me, that is.”
Jeongguk scowls, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue about how he can handle Jimin just fine, if the way he’d made him come so quickly was any indicator, but doesn’t get a chance to say anything. Instead, soft hands smooth against his inner thighs, gently pushing them apart and towards his chest.
Jeongguk blushes from watching Taehyung settle between his legs, cock bobbing when he moves, flushed at the tip and wet with precome. He grazes it along the underside of Taehyung’s cock, the drag dry and sticky from cooled spit. Jeongguk shudders, does so again, desperate for friction wherever it comes from, and Taehyung lets him. A languid pace that’s enough to tease but not to satisfy.
Jeongguk groans, impatiently twisting, lightly kicking Taehyung’s side. He glares at him past his bangs. “Taehyung, fucking move .”
Taehyung grins, purposely slowing. His cock slinks down, catches against Jeongguk’s rim. It doesn’t linger there, but rubs against Jeongguk in maddeningly gentle circles that make him pant. “What’s the rush, bun? Thought you liked to tease.”
“Maybe even more than I do,” Jimin chimes in, gently carding his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, lulling him into a dense sort of tranquility; Jeongguk feels drunk, as though he can’t contain the intoxication.
“Assholes,” Jeongguk gasps, refusing to stay still until he can get Taehyung’s cock on him—preferably in him. At this point, it wouldn’t take more than the tip for Jeongguk to come, he’s sure.
He thinks Jimin whispers a promise that they’ll fuck him soon enough but he swipes his thumb across Jeongguk’s lower lip at the same time that Taehyung strokes his cock, so Jeongguk doesn’t let himself dwell on it.
“ Oh ,” he sighs, cock completely engulfed by Taehyung’s large hand, the glide slick with precome. He’s clenching around nothing, achingly empty.
And the pleasure only increases from there.
Jimin smears Jeongguk’s own saliva against his chin when he licks his lips and coats them shiny with it, his own cock all but beckoning for Jeongguk to take it into his mouth once more as Jeongguk turns to the side and is met with it so close to his face.
Jimin tuts, “None of that, sweetheart.” He brings Jeongguk’s palms flat to the rug when he tries to get his hands on his cock. Ignoring his fighting claims, Jimin pulls back enough so that Jeongguk’s mouth is left with nothing to potentially latch onto. “Don’t you want Taehyung to get you all nice and loose for him—for us?”
Jeongguk can’t think through the pulse echoing in his ears, nor the tempo with which Taehyung kneads at the tip of his cock. All he can do is perk up, needs for someone to get their fingers inside him—to fuck him—before he gives out.
He sniffles, blinking up at Jimin when he calmly shushes him, instantly becoming less anxious as a result. To Taehyung, very softly, he says, “Want you. Wanna’ feel you in me.”
Taehyung visibly relaxes, too, hand falling away from Jeongguk’s cock to cup under his ass and squeeze. “Gotta’ take it slowly, don’t wanna’ hurt you.”
Jeongguk’s inclined to tell Taehyung that he doesn’t care if it hurts, that he’ll easily take it. That he trusts he won’t hurt him in the first place. Not intentionally. But it’s lost amidst the sight of Jimin leaning in, finding Taehyung’s hand and fanning it out flat. He watches in astonishment as what appears to be lube manifests from Jimin’s fingers.
“You couldn’t have used that before?” Jeongguk blurts out, half relieved he’s that much closer to what he wants, yet half irritated that he could’ve gotten it sooner and without so much of a fuss if Jimin hadn’t withheld.
While Taehyung’s occupied slicking up his fingers, Jimin stares at Jeongguk stoically, just the edges of his lips twitching. “I did use it, you were just too busy riding my tongue to notice.”
Taehyung huffs out a laugh through his nose before he dips between Jeongguk’s legs, fingers dripping against Jeongguk’s inner thighs. Jeongguk falls silent, face hot.
His embarrassment doesn’t last, though, not when Taehyung brings the wet fingers to his rim and it sparks an enchanted feeling within him. Taehyung merely massages it at first, enough to make Jeongguk buck into him, too helpless to resist the temptation. Can’t stay still as he brings his hands around Taehyung’s shoulders and drags them down, savouring the way he groans against Jeongguk’s dampening neck.
“Fuck—Tae,” Jeongguk moans, seeking more friction, more of Taehyung’s hands, “ please .”
Cooing softly, Taehyung presses a kiss beneath Jeongguk’s ear while his finger slides past his rim at last with little to no resistance. Sinking inside and punching a gasp past Jeongguk’s lips. He’s used to doing this with him, but the familiarity of it doesn’t make it any less amazing.
“Doing good, bun,” Taehyung affirms, voice low. His finger descends a little deeper, then pulls out. A series of shallow thrusts. Jeongguk hiccups when Taehyung gradually adds another; his lithe and nimble fingers tugging at the rim.
Voice small, Jeongguk nods. “One more,” he breathes, staring down between them, where Taehyung’s wrist is pressed to his ass. Jeongguk fights an urge to cover himself, feels so vulnerable and exposed like this even though it’s not their first time in this situation. Even with Jimin, whose surely been exposed to much more vulgar and compromising positions, he’s nervous.
Maybe it’s because they’re not alone that makes every touch feel heightened, an unfamiliar but sought after warmth that settles over his skin. Something Jeongguk can’t pinpoint, but brews at the surface.
Jimin’s hooded gaze lingering on their every move only serves to spur Jeongguk on. Makes him eager to put on the show Jimin had been so adamant about. To give their spectator something to think about, to yearn over.
Jeongguk groans once more, a cracked sound that falls past his lips because Taehyung adds the third finger and it feels incredible . This sudden stretch that pulls at his insides and makes his thighs clench.
Jeongguk’s squeezes his eyes shut, breaths coming out in quick pants that draw Taehyung’s attention. Causes him to slow down, his fingers pausing on the pull off. “It hurts,” Jeongguk squirms, shaky hands pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Just a little bit,” he explains.
“Want me to stop? I’ll stop,” Taehyung is quick to say, concern radiating from him as he goes stiff against Jeongguk. He’s always looking out for him, worried he’ll cross a boundary. Just wants to know Jeongguk’s fine, that he’s okay and that what they’re doing is good for them both.
It’s ridiculous… and so fucking charming.
Flustered, Jeongguk averts his gaze when Taehyung leans in and presses a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, murmuring soft assurances that tell him they don’t have to continue if he doesn’t want to anymore, that they can do something else, whatever makes him feel comfy.
But Jeongguk declines, endeared. “I’m fine.” He peers up at Taehyung and gives him what he hopes is a heartening smile. To further prove how he’s feeling, Jeongguk shifts, planting his feet firmly onto the rug as he sinks down onto Taehyung’s fingers. Relishes the way they stretch him open, how the burn dwindles into something infuriatingly good. Especially when his fingers spread out and scissor Jeongguk open with prudence.
“Look so pretty, Gguk.” Taehyung whispers, working his fingers in and out, crooking them just right so they brush Jeongguk’s prostate unlike before when Jimin had refrained. Jeongguk teeters, moans as his thighs fasten hard around Taehyung’s body, holding him steady as the pace builds up.
Then, when Jeongguk is certain that he’s going to come from this alone, with Taehyung’s fingers inside his ass, they’re gone, and he’s left empty.
“ Taehyung ,” Jeongguk whimpers, grabbing at his shoulders and pawing at his sides, “come back, I—”
His hand snakes between their bodies, Jeongguk’s own fingers attempting to replace Taehyung’s so he’s not left without the feeling, only to be stopped. Wrist held in place. “I’m right here. Calm down, bun.”
Jeongguk shudders when something slick drips against his hole, realizing Jimin has returned. He brings lubed up fingers to Jeongguk’s rim, circling them against it before he curls his palm around Taehyung’s cock, stroking along the shaft until it glistens.
Jimin has his other hand wrapped around Taehyung’s thigh, watching the way Jeongguk clenches around air, flushed down to his toes. “Cutie,” Jimin praises, pressing a kiss against Taehyung’s arm. “You look so small... so pretty. Do you like feeling that way?”
“I bet,” Jimin purrs, the tip of his forked tongue slipping past his lips and wetting them. Twin trails of spit dot his cupid’s bow. The hand on Taehyung’s cock doesn’t ease, slick sounds echoing in the room in sync with the way his hand moves. “Deserve to get fucked just like a good boy. And I can sense that Taehyung can’t wait to give it to you.”
Taehyung moans against Jimin’s chest, but shimmies away to sit on his haunches, close to Jeongguk’s body. Settles a hand around his hip as the other wraps around his own cock, holding it steady. And yet, that fraction of a distance keeping them apart bothers Jeongguk, who wants to feel Taehyung on top of him.
So Jeongguk tugs him closer, heart racing. He brings their foreheads together, noses brushing. A gentle hand sliding up Taehyung’s back, curling around his nape, playing with the soft hair that’s curled over.
“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, smiling against Jeongguk’s lips when he leans in for a kiss. He adjusts himself as to eliminate the space between them.
Colour tints Jeongguk’s cheeks now that their bodies are pressed against one another’s. It should be awkward with this heat, humid and disagreeable, but it isn’t.
“Hi,” he replies quietly.
Jeongguk’s first time definitely wouldn’t be taking place like he had imagined, always thought it would happen in their dorm, on Jeongguk’s bed that creaks too much and has a set of sheets that smell more like Taehyung than himself. No candles or music to set the mood—especially after Taehyung’s playlist had shuffled to a trot song that one time—just Jeongguk’s bunny night light and the soft hum of their TV playing reruns of a show about fairies that can lift weights... or something like that.
But he's with Taehyung, Jimin closely by their side, and strangely, he wouldn't change a thing. None of what Jeongguk had originally pictured truly matters anymore.
“Are you sure about this?” Taehyung’s hesitation is endearing, but unnecessary.
“Yes, you idiot,” Jeongguk sighs, fondness raising the corners of his mouth, “I’ve always been sure about you... so fuck me before I flip us over and ride you myself.”
Taehyung matches his smile.
And it’s a matter of holding his breath when Taehyung lines up his cock and pushes in the head, exhaling heavily against Jeongguk’s chest.
In an instant, he’s everywhere .
His lips are on Jeongguk’s, tongue in his mouth. His cock, so thick inside him that it sends a dull throb of warmth to lick at Jeongguk’s skin. Makes him feel like he’s coming undone, bursting at the seams as he tries to stay still, only to fail within seconds, wriggling in order to ease the pressure mounting on his groin.
“You okay, bun?” Taehyung gauges his reaction, unmoving after stopping halfway.
But Jeongguk can’t quite find the words to respond clearly, unable to convey how he’s not okay at all because he’s so much better than that. Can’t believe he’d gone this long without experiencing Taehyung fully, any prior expectations Jeongguk had built up in his mind already being exceeded by him.
He nods with what comes out as a faint squeak, hooking his legs around Taehyung's waist to encourage him to keep going. Gives him a light but reinforcing squeeze.
And even when Taehyung concedes and scoots forward, he's gentle. Cautious. The hands planted at either side of Jeongguk's head play with the ends of his hair, fingers absentmindedly twirling into the wavy curls that are splayed out along the rug and nearly blend in with its fur.
Inch by inch, Jeongguk feels him. Raw and without any barrier. It's a sharp sting at first, uncomfortable more than it is painful, but it gradually dulls with every drag of Taehyung's cock. It's not like he isn't partial to the pain, anyway. Loves when he's treated like it's something he deserves.
Jeongguk relaxes his muscles to help ease the slide so it doesn’t hurt, but even then, it’s a tight fit and he winces. Tries to even out his breathing, take it slow despite the growing ache in his groin that demands more . Gingerly, Jeongguk rolls his hips down, chases the feeling, that faint but present sense of pleasure that makes him gasp.
“Jeongguk,” Taehyung groans against his throat, the firm head of his cock grazing the rim as he tugs backwards. When Jeongguk clenches around it, trying in vain to suck him back inside, he tenses, going motionless. “Ggukie, it’ll hurt if you do that. Stay still.”
Contrary to what Taehyung says, Jeongguk does the opposite. Digs his fingers into Taehyung’s shoulders, wraps his legs around his waist and urges him forward, bringing his cock to push back inside in a smooth thrust.
Panting, Jeongguk attempts to work himself onto Taehyung’s cock, thighs burning at the pressure he exerts as he sinks down, lube dripping along the places where they meet. Wonderfully messy as Taehyung thrusts inside him, deliberately slow and tender.
And Jeongguk appreciates that Taehyung wants to make it special, wants him to know that he isn’t just a fling he can dump or someone he can simply fuck and move on from, but Jeongguk’s known that for a while. Can see it in the little things Taehyung does when they’re together. He doesn’t need the fanfare, nor the gentleness. Not now when the pain has begun to fade into something much better; the quick slide of Taehyung’s cock as it throbs inside him easing Jeongguk into what he really wants.
“Taehyung,” Jeongguk moans, does so louder. Bringing his hands down Taehyung’s toned back, he doesn’t stop until he finds his ass and squeezes hard. Keeps him close, until he can barely push out, his cock now as deep inside of Jeongguk as it can go. “ Move .”
This time it’s Taehyung who refuses to budge, determined to prolong the inevitable: losing that misplaced concern and fucking the daylights out of Jeongguk until he forgets his name.
His teeth scrape along the line of Jeongguk’s throat, coming down until he’s mouthing at Jeongguk’s shoulder, then biting hard, eliciting a choked whimper past Jeongguk’s lips.
The pain makes Jeongguk’s thighs jerk and his cock twitch where it bobs gently against his stomach. He mewls, bringing his head back and arching into the hot slide of Taehyung’s cock, hands pinching his ass and urging him to keep going, to fuck Jeongguk like he wants to be fucked.
“Harder,” Jeongguk whispers, breathing fast and choppy. His body jostled up the rug by the gentle force of Taehyung’s thrusts. When Taehyung doesn’t comply as quickly as Jeongguk wants him to, Jeongguk clenches around him, tight enough to hurt and get his attention. “I won't break, please—”
An inner sort of conflict paints across Taehyung’s face as he hesitates. A single bead of sweat dripping down his jaw and stopping near his throat.
“If you don’t move, I’ll ask Jimin to do it for me.” Jeongguk warns, breathless and lacking any real threat. Just wants it to instigate something within Taehyung. “He won’t hold back.”
From where he’s taken to laying in order to have a perfect view of them, Jimin smirks lazily, confirming Jeongguk’s proclamation, “I don’t do gentle, darling.”
It makes Taehyung’s hips jerk forward, a punctuated thrust that surprises Jeongguk at the suggested strength behind Taehyung’s limber body, and blows a moan past his lips. His legs tighten around Taehyung as he does so once more, raising Jeongguk’s hips off the ground in order to keep him still as he pushes inside.
The drag is smooth and Jeongguk clenches down hard, words shaky as they tumble out of him. He pleads for Taehyung to go faster, to move harder, until Taehyung gives in with a drawn out groan.
“Fuck, just like that. Yeah— ” Jeongguk pants, his body electrified as Taehyung sinks down to the hilt, hips flush against his ass, right before he sets the punishing pace they’ve both been craving.
A fractured whine is stolen from the depths of Jeongguk’s chest, his noises joined by the slap of skin that reverberates around them. There’s no concern left for how undignified he must sound, Taehyung’s thrusts erasing every ounce of modesty within him, destroying his ability to care about anything else except this moment.
“So tight,” Taehyung hisses, picking up momentum, “you’re so fucking tight—shit, why didn’t we do this earlier?” The grip on his narrow waist hurts, impedes Jeongguk from moving as much, but he basks in the helplessness of it.
“You tell me, you could’ve had this for months.” Jeongguk vengefully wiggles his ass to throw Taehyung off, notices his hips stutter a fraction when he clenches around him, though he regains stability straight away.
Altogether, it’s unrelenting—Taehyung’s speed, Jeongguk’s heartbeat. Even the fierceness with which Jimin watches them, undisturbing yet ever-present.
But he only manages to stare back temporarily, gaze ripped away as soon as he feels Taehyung switching tactics. When he grabs Jeongguk’s legs and hikes them over his shoulders, simultaneously leaning his body weight into his thighs so that he nearly folds in half. Toeing the limits of his flexibility.
The new angle makes Jeongguk scream . Pushes Taehyung infinitely deeper. Causes the tip of his cock to repeatedly strike his prostate as he drills into him. He can’t keep his head up because the force of Taehyung’s thrusts keep knocking it down flat.
Bracing his hands in the rug, Jeongguk’s fists bunch up, tearing at the strands of fur tangled in his fingers, trying to hold onto any semblance of sanity but coming up short.
“Tae—fuck, don’t—don’t stop.” His demand is slurred as the muscle in his left calf begins to cramp, and he’s clipping his jaw shut so that he doesn’t accidentally bite his tongue from each jolting shove.
His brain reels.
Taehyung gruffly keens, cock pulsating against his warm walls, sweat dripping hotly into the hollow of Jeongguk’s throat. “You’re so good, baby. Feel fucking perfect.” Dipping down, Taehyung licks the moisture off, making sure to get a taste of him, as well. “Could stay like this forever.” With hooded eyes, Jeongguk sees the way his tongue laps a stripe across the protruding crest of his collarbone, replacing the layer of sweat with a sheen of saliva, teeth scraping against skin.
Every harsh, forward motion that Taehyung delivers leaves Jeongguk writhing, like he’s not only being fucked open, but fucked stupid . The jabs to his sensitive prostate burning with intensity, sending shockwaves to the parts of him that haven’t gone senseless yet.
Even as his grasp on reality slips, there’s this insatiable lust that persists. Violently carnal.
Tears forming, Jeongguk’s blurred vision vaguely makes out the image of Jimin stroking his own cock, the chains on his unwrinkled shirt clinking together when his hand brushes against them on every twist of his slender wrist. He’s readying himself to take Jeongguk next, to have his equal share of him and play his part in thoroughly breaking him.
Jeongguk doesn’t know how sex demons fuck, but if it’s anything like Taehyung, he won’t survive it.
Already on the brink because he isn’t going to last much longer, he feels the pressure steadily building, his release rapidly approaching. “I— m-my—” He can’t phrase any thought coherently enough, tiny whimpers cutting through as the sentence is spoken in meager fragments.
The precome spilling from his stiff cock has puddled in the divots of his abdomen, and it only smears across his chest when Taehyung ducks to give him a kiss. “Gonna’ come for me? Gonna’ come untouched, Ggukie?” Jeongguk cries out as Taehyung lays over him and decreases the pace to a grind, somehow still reaching impossibly deeper like this. Might be toning down the rate of his thrusts but not the magnitude.
A light headspace starts to cloud his mind, causes him to feel floaty. Submissive. He’s experienced this before with Taehyung, but never to this extent. A subtle wave compared to the thrashing current culminating at his core. It’s different—nice.
“Asked you a question, baby,” Taehyung entreats, wiping a tear Jeongguk didn’t even realize had streamed from the corner of his eye, “why don’t you show Jimin how you fall apart on my cock?”
But Jeongguk supplies a splintering moan instead of a response that resembles anything verbal, drool running down the side of his face, a sign of complete and utter ruin .
Taehyung growls through his teeth, looking pleased with Jeongguk’s wrecked state, bucks his hips again. “Yeah, that’s it.”
It takes him less than a second to resume his brutal pounding, and less than a minute to have Jeongguk flailing underneath him all over again, reduced to a deplorably fucked out mess. When Taehyung peers down between their bodies to appreciate the way his cock is getting swallowed by Jeongguk’s ass, Jeongguk sheepishly flings an arm over his face—only after he musters up what little strength he has to spare and uses it to slant upwards, allowing himself a peek of it, too.
“Don’t hide your face.” Taehyung’s breath is ragged with exertion, his palm damp like the rest of him as it plucks Jeongguk’s arm from his eyes and holds his hand rather than let go. “Want you to look at me when you come.”
Jeongguk can hardly comprehend words anymore, lacking awareness of his surroundings and aimlessly blinking around the room, eventually landing on Taehyung. It all feels too good, too mind-numbing. Like he’s fucking high or wired. His body no longer belonging to him.
He doesn’t even register that Jimin takes shape behind Taehyung, placing both hands on his hips to aid him in his efforts. Jeongguk can’t tell that Jimin’s the reason why Taehyung slams forward, can only feel the breakneck speed with which he does. Cock plunging inside him repeatedly, a rhythm that’s unremitted and cruel.
And that’s what has him spiraling, coming without preamble.
He goes rigid for split second before his entire frame shakes .
Jeongguk’s orgasm is blinding, all-consuming as it crashes over him like a ripping tide. His brain is shouting curses and pleas, but only a torrent of dejected mewls makes its way from his throat. His limbs loosen, legs quivering and almost falling from around Taehyung’s neck until he secures his hold. But his hole tightens, clamping down around Taehyung and triggering him to follow suit.
With how much come shoots from his cock, it’s as if Jeongguk didn’t come once already, thick load dispensing onto his stomach, a few misguided flecks hitting directly against his chin. But Taehyung hadn’t gotten off at all tonight, and the mangled grunt that cuts through the air signals his release. Hot flows of come pump from his cock, filling Jeongguk up with fervor. Squelching noisily the more he pushes in.
Jeongguk wants every last bit of it, so he can greedily milk Taehyung dry of everything he’s worth. But he can’t concentrate because the thrusts don’t stop , and Jimin continues to steer Taehyung closer, keeps his hips from letting up or slowing down despite the resistance from both ends. Jeongguk shrieks, incapable of moving away from overbearing sensation. Powerless.
“Still so loud for someone who can’t even speak,” Jimin remarks, pecking at Taehyung’s shoulder, “too bad only we can hear how beautiful you sound. If I wasn’t the jealous type, I’d let everyone out there listen, too.”
He snickers, and with one last pointed jab, Jimin detaches from Taehyung abruptly, which sends him flying onto Jeongguk, their chests colliding. It’s warm and sticky with Jeongguk’s half-dried come, but they embrace it anyway. Jeongguk doesn’t care that he’s practically being squished under the force, chest compressing with bated breaths.
Taehyung stays inside of him a while longer—Jeongguk doesn’t know how long exactly, any concept of time completely wiped from his mind—whether it’s because Jeongguk’s hole has him locked in place or because Taehyung can’t convince himself to pull out, bones tired.
But, eventually, much to Jeongguk’s dismay, Taehyung is being peeled off of him, toppling onto the rug beside him. Helped by Jimin because he’s practically deadweight, they both are. Jeongguk stares up at the ceiling, trying to discern the number of spiderwebs he sees above, determining how many tiles are missing from the roof. Simple tasks. Anything to get his brain functioning again, to remember what fucking plane of existence he’s living on. His thoughts muddled.
And right when Jeongguk thinks he’s regaining a shred of understanding that’ll grant him an attempt to maneuver himself, he’s being hauled down by the ankle, hastily and without warrant. Even then, Jeongguk’s thankful that the rug isn’t a roughly woven carpet, otherwise his back would’ve instantly chafed with the drag.
Jimin drops his leg with a thud once he’s centered, unmannerly. As he swoops down, his face contorts in an almost evil way, handsome features now swept over with something dangerous. He’s still undeniably gorgeous, but there’s an inkling in Jeongguk’s fatigue-riddled mind that recommends he start praying.
“Sweetheart, I hope you didn’t forget about me .” The area between Jimin’s brows creases, a pinch that alleviates when Jeongguk offers a spaced out glance, clearly not having any remote prediction of what he’s in for. “I’m usually not this patient—we’re similar in that sense, you and I. But, earlier, I thought to myself, why not let my humans indulge each other first? Sit back and let them have their fun.”
Jimin stalks forward, raising a studded boot to Jeongguk’s soiled stomach, the leather sole unnervingly close to Jeongguk’s flaccid cock. “But now? I’m starving ,” he says in a voice altering tone, a razor edged grin making its appearance, “and I intend to eat until I’m full .”
In a blink, Jeongguk is being flipped over onto his front and lifted to his knees—which wobble under Jimin’s manipulation—as his upper half flattens against the rug again, arms impotent and unable to sustain his weight. If Jimin had no trouble manhandling Jeongguk into his desired position before, then tossing him around like a ragdoll, presently, must be that much easier. Like this, Taehyung’s come seeps from his ass, yet Jeongguk is too exhausted to encounter any bit of embarrassment over it.
Belatedly, he comprehends what Jimin’s referring to, how it’s now his turn to unapologetically stake his claim on Jeongguk. Branding him the only way a incubus knows how, by fucking him into oblivion.
Jeongguk squirms, wordlessly begging for more time to properly recover. Fears he’ll break, physically and mentally, otherwise. Panic rising as his heart thumps alarmingly. His head turns to the side feebly, eyes glassy as his mouth mutters out a jumbled phrase, “N—can’t… pl- please ...” He hiccups, trailing off.
But it’s of no use, because Jimin only hones in on the supplication, steadying Jeongguk’s hips with one hand while the other holds onto his own cock, slapping it against Jeongguk’s ass. Just the size of it alone, broad and plump, makes each cheek jiggle on impact. “I love it when you beg all pretty for me, Jeongguk.”
Despite his apprehension, fully knowing he won’t have the ability to handle it when he’s like this, half-witted and overwhelmed, Jeongguk’s body betrays him. Arches diligently into Jimin’s roaming palms as they explore his skin, lurching against him when ringed fingers dip past the small of his back, thumbs digging into the low set dimples located there, tracing both indents. Arousal coiling within him again.
Taehyung lays straight across from them, like a work of art with his tousled hair and stained skin, staring dreamily at him and then up at Jimin, who comments something along the lines of seems like someone else is worn out, after all . Jeongguk stiffly slants his neck to get a better look, indifferent to the straining effort it takes to do so, and faintly recognizes the silhouette of Jimin’s wings on Taehyung’s face as they flap against the light.
A moan gets lodged in Jeongguk’s throat when he’s interrupted by the tip of Jimin’s cock merely breaching his entrance and then pulling away. “Look at how much you’re leaking,” he teases, rubbing the head along his outer rim, “would be a shame to waste it all... unless, of course, I just ate it out of you… or maybe fucked it back inside, hm?”
Jeongguk flinches as Jimin spits against his hole, crude and admonishing; the copious amount of saliva hitting its mark makes his toes curl. His mouth gapes open silently at the feel of it, tongue lolling out and accidentally wetting a few wisps of fur from the rug, causing them to clump and coldy adhere to the side of his face once the air cools them.
Jimin collects the streak of spit with his cock before resting it on the cleft of Jeongguk’s ass, where every ridge of its textured underside—particularly the two bulges—sit heavy. But just having the outline trace against his skin isn’t enough, and his hips ineptly chase the stretch it’s sure to provide, uncoordinated and hopeless.
Jeongguk indistinctly thinks about Jimin’s mention of playing with his food, considers that he’s now experiencing it firsthand, a direct parallel to that. The pleasure Jimin must be absorbing from treating Jeongguk like a piece of fresh meat, dangling him above his mouth, fangs equipped to maul at his debilitated prey, seems unfathomable.
What’s even worse, though, is how Jeongguk has welcomed it since the very beginning.
The demon’s enticing nature and well-used persuasions could successfully lure anyone in, corrupt every notion of good reasoning that still resides and compel them to voluntarily solicit his touch. Jeongguk and Taehyung were obviously no exception—mortal and weak-willed. But, in seeking to satisfy Jimin’s lustful appetite, they also quelled their own.
As if reading Jeongguk’s thoughts, Jimin intuitively grinds forward, cock nestled between both cheeks, ghosting over his puckered hole as he rocks back and forth. The room is eerily still, minimal noise occupying the space besides his occasional mewls at Jimin’s movements and Taehyung’s leveled breaths as he struggles not to fall asleep. And Jeongguk assumes Jimin will actually give him a break when he carries on with reverence, affectionately caressing the sides of his legs.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Jimin drifts a claw down his spine, meekly says, “You might want to stay awake for this, Taehyung.”
That’s the last warning Jeongguk gets before Jimin’s ramming himself inside with one swift motion, burying his cock to the hilt. The screech that conjures up from his core is deafening, something shrill jolting Taehyung upright but making Jimin chuckle. It’s a stretch like no other, Jimin’s huge cock splitting him open and causing Jeongguk to feel like he’s being torn in two. A scathing pressure beyond compare.
“W-wait, s’too much —” he yelps, scrambling to crawl away from the added pleasure-pain when Jimin effortlessly locates his prostate just by sliding in, hitting it dead on without having to move, and has Jeongguk seeing stars . He doesn’t make it far because Jimin is wrapping his hands around the front of Jeongguk’s thighs to yank him backwards and keep him in place, using them as leverage for his cock to stay put. Rendering his half-hearted opposition futile. If he stood no real chance against Jimin’s unnatural measures of strength normally, the odds are even less under these conditions.
Curling in on himself, Jeongguk can’t prevent the way he obediently shrinks beneath the commanding grip. “You say that,” Jimin states, palms pulling his legs further apart where they try to close, “but we both know it’s not the truth. I can read your energy, remember?” Jeongguk hears the smugness in his voice, the pure exultation at how he’s already sensed the sexual potency permeating from him. Jeongguk’s face burns from the realization almost as much as his inner thighs do from the tension.
And Jimin eats it up—literally.
He draws his hips back slowly, with intent, so that Jeongguk feels every prominent knot and ridge of his cock, until just the tip remains inside. It already doesn’t hurt as much. “The only thing that allows me to consume is your want .” Without hesitation, Jimin slams back in, knocking a gasp from Jeongguk’s mouth. “Your need .” He does it again, this time harder. Crueler. Sheathing himself completely. “Your desire .” The reflexive clench around Jimin’s cock is inevitable. “And you’ve got enough of that to last me an eternity, little one.”
Grappling at the rug for purchase, Jeongguk wheezes as Jimin shoves in a margin deeper with each defining thrust, biting at his forearm to smother the beginnings of a squeal. Regulating his noises but not the cause of them, a frenzied bolt of fixation that charges through him and snares Jeongguk in his entirety. It’s barely a conquest, not when he’s practically offering himself up to Jimin on a silver platter as he staggers back.
“S’big,” he whines, but there’s a hint of gratification behind it all. And Jeongguk’s almost mortified by it, because he didn’t think he’d be this much of a fucking size queen. Accommodating Jimin’s girth quicker after being loosened up by Taehyung, who has snuck closer to grab his hand as usual, always connected to Jeongguk in some way. Stabilizing him.
Maybe it’s not a secret to any of them anymore, the fact that Jeongguk loves the fullness, the weight of a thick cock sitting inside of him. Even now when Jimin’s taunting him again, stalling his hips from pushing forward to prove his point—this is what Jeongguk is longing for, to hang off Jimin’s cock like he’s been depraved, as if he didn’t just get fucked brainless and hasn’t recovered yet.
Jimin hums, “Something tells me it’s still not big enough, not for you.” Jeongguk clamps down in protest when Jimin tugs himself out halfway. “So spoiled yet so greedy… we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”
Jimin unfurls one of his hands from around Jeongguk’s thigh, and the instant he winds it back to deliver a spiteful, stinging, slap to Jeongguk’s ass, all hell breaks loose.
When Jimin thrusts inside, there’s no delay, a ruthless speed taking over. The drag of his cock stretching Jeongguk open. A pain blurred by having his legs weakly held up, lube—or maybe it’s Jimin’s spit, or Taehyung’s come—sliding down his thighs as he’s jostled against the fur throw.
“So fucking pretty ,” Jimin growls, the sound momentarily inhuman. Sin wrapped up in a gentle tone, enveloping Jeongguk’s senses. Hot against the shell of his ear when Jimin hunches over him, and burning hotter as the praise reaches his cock.
Jimin’s shirt has disappeared, the soft planes of his stomach hugging him. He wants to feel them, at least see them. But he can’t.
Jeongguk’s cock starts to plump as it hits against his lower abdomen, painfully half-hard by the time he tiredly reaches for it. His fingers barely graze the tip before Jimin is pulling his arm away and pressing it into his back. “No touching, darling—not yet.”
“S’thick—in me,” Jeongguk whispers and it comes through gritted teeth. Sweat dots along his brow, his body bearing the force of Jimin’s thrusts as he fucks him beyond any sense of reason. To bruise, to mark. To devastate .
His cock fills Jeongguk to the brim, nestled deep inside, then pulls out to the first swollen knot. Jimin’s fingers circle on either side of Jeongguk's waist and he dips him. Face down, ass in the air. Then he promptly thrusts back in, hard enough to wrench a cry past Jeongguk's slack lips.
“ There—Again ,” he barely whispers. His voice unrecognizable to his own ears, hoarse and gravelly, breezing past them as their bodies come together. A hard slap of skin meeting skin echoing in the room.
The pace becomes faster, a lot deeper after this. Jimin’s nails feel sharper as they scrape along the dip of his lower back, then slide up, smoothing between his shoulder blades and curling. Jeongguk feels it everywhere; the way Jimin’s thick cock rubs against his prostate, the burn of oversensitivity muddling what little is left of his thoughts. Up his spine, down to his toes and sending hot bursts of arousal to lick up his cock.
And maybe he should savour it. Take it slow, make something out of all the buildup, because it’s not everyday one gets fucked to hell and back by a demon—a demon that feeds off sex no less, but Jeongguk can’t bring himself to slow down. Everything moves too fast, a blur in the middle of it all. Deep, heady noises spill past Jeongguk’s lips as Jimin deftly pulls him onto his cock. He surrounds Jeongguk, invading his senses and his body from the inside out.
“Harder,” Jeongguk whines, pushing back, the need to come clawing up his belly and sending a flush to his face that’s buried against the soft fur. “ God , just—I won't break. Fuck me harder.”
“ God ?” Jimin‘s laugh rings sinister. The forceful grip on Jeongguk’s hips is hurtful, in a way that makes him never want it to end. “Little one, there is no God here. Just me.”
Jeongguk whimpers through the wet slap of skin as Jimin’s hips smack against his ass, the glide of his cock as it sinks inside his hole. Words coming up short, his mind blissfully blank, Jeongguk doesn’t know where he ends and Jimin begins.
The pace the demon sets is brutal, an obscene show of strength behind each thrust showing Jeongguk and Taehyung who’s held the power the entire time.
Not that either of them are opposed to that. If anything this night has proven just how much they enjoy being under someone else’s thumb.
Heat crawls up Jeongguk’s face at the desperate sound he lets out when Jimin grinds his hips tight, barely pulling out and incessantly jabbing inside. It’s more of a squeak infused with a plea not to stop, the pleasure dizzying.
Jeongguk can do nothing but accept the way Jimin continuously drags him back, fucking him hard, fast and unmeasured. The blunt tip of his fat cock grazing his prostate over and over again, stealing his breath until it’s nothing but a hoarse sob.
“Wanna’ come,” Jeongguk gasps, unabashed in the way he bounces back on Jimin’s cock, his hole clenching hot around the throbbing shaft. Body trembling, he mewls, blinking past tears to stare at Jimin over his shoulder. “Please—I’ve been g-good.”
Merciless, Jimin grinds into Jeongguk’s sopping rim. Hands clenched tight around his ass, spreading his cheeks apart in order to watch the crude slide of his cock keeping him spread open. The forked tongue slipping past his lips and dripping against him.
“You have been good,” Jimin croons, leaning down to brush a kiss against the juncture of Jeongguk’s neck and shoulder that’s more tongue and teeth than anything else. “But haven’t you come enough? Greedy little thing.”
His voice is balanced, containing a type of composure and stability that Jeongguk’s lacks, as if Jimin weren’t even affected by the effort needed to fuck him like this. Raw and animalistic. He’s completely lucid while Jeongguk struggles to form a proper sentence. And knowing that only makes Jeongguk’s cock twitch even more.
One of Jimin’s hands trails down towards his stomach, pressing flat against the skin. His pace notably slows as the pressure from his palm increases. Jeongguk almost cries out, thinking he’ll stop entirely.
But, instead, Jimin’s grabbing his hand to bring it back to the same spot. “ Fuck , right there.”
And then, Jeongguk feels it.
When they both knead against his stomach, he can tell that the outline of Jimin’s cock has formed a slight protruding bulge. It isn’t until then that Jeongguk realizes just how deep he is. How Jimin’s cock has fucking rearranged his insides just to make room for itself.
“M’tummy,” Jeongguk gasps, keening when his fingers unconsciously prod harder, clenching tighter around Jimin because the thought of it is too overwhelming. And he has trouble identifying whether the twist in his gut is from the arousal that hasn’t ceased to cloud his senses or from the shape of Jimin’s cock alone.
“How does it feel, darling, hm?” Jimin’s thrusts aren’t as fast, but they’re sharp. Stabbing into him so that each strike is profound, the bulge stretching Jeongguk’s skin as much as possible. “Knowing that you’ve let a demon invade every part of you? That you were made to take my cock, to be fucked like the godless slut you are?”
Jeongguk drowns in a pool of Jimin’s words, a restless moan working its way past his lips as he resigns to the reality of it. Because, if not for Jimin, none of this would’ve happened to him or Taehyung. And now, Jeongguk isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to live without experiencing it again.
If Jeongguk were to suffer eternal damnation for fucking a creature of sin, then the taste of Jimin was well worth it.
“ Yes , l-love it...so—fuck— deep .” When he turns his head from the side to look down at his distended belly, all it takes is the sight of the large bulge to make Jeongguk dizzy, his whole body giving out. But it’s the way Jimin’s cock seems to grow even more inside of him at the attention that causes him to topple forward haphazardly.
Taehyung catches him before he can fall flat onto the rug, lowering him down gently, whispering a soft cute just as Jimin snatches his own hand from underneath Jeongguk’s stomach. Uses it to pin him down against the fur even though Jeongguk’s arm remains trapped, still pressed into the bulge but now with an added force.
“If only angels were as pretty as you, Ggukie,” Jimin simpers, swiveling his hips impassively, “then maybe I’d feel even a little remorse for stealing your chances of joining them one day.”
With a vicious thrust, he easily resumes a morbidly jarring pace, ploughing into him without any sign of compassion or leniency. It was like a spite against God himself. As if Jimin was hoping their Creator would be watching him defile any lingering ounce of purity.
Body limp, all Jeongguk can do is lie there and take it , defenseless against the assault as Jimin subdues him, locking his legs together so that the squeeze is that much tighter when he screws himself down. Tendrils of hair drip sweat down Jeongguk’s face, cock confined between his bulging stomach and the rug. Not enough friction to sate his now pitifully hard erection that ruts violently into the material.
Yet, it’s a sensation of unadulterated bliss that engulfs him, a sweet torment—if anything is to be worshipped reverently, it’s Jimin’s cock.
Even when Jimin casts his wings down to surround the three of them, Jeongguk isn’t scared, simply admires how the small needle daggers at the edges pitch into the ground for stability. Effectively shielding them off from the rest of the world. Wrapped up in a darkness that Jeongguk invites as long as both Taehyung and Jimin are there with him.
The fear is long gone, but is it for better or worse that it’s been replaced with trust?
Jeongguk doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. Exhilaration pumping into him as quick as Jimin’s fluid strokes are. Ecstasy coursing through his veins.
Jimin leans in closer so that his mouth is level with Jeongguk's ear, voice hushed. "You feed me so well, baby. Turning me into such a messy eater with how wet and fucking filthy you've gotten." He latches onto the lobe with his teeth and pointed fangs, tugging on the small hoops of his earrings.
Jeongguk suspects he bleeds from it when Jimin's tongue extends and runs along the inner corner of his lip to drench it with spit, a distinct coppery taste lingering as Jeongguk diligently laps it up. "I—anything... please . Take it."
He highly underestimated how close he was to coming, distracted by the warmth of Jimin's spit being fed to him, massaging the bulge that's too big for his hand to fit across.
And it's only a few seconds later that he thoroughly unravels, his orgasm forced out of him. A slew of shameless moans and unfiltered curses cascading from his mouth, wantonly filling the room as Jimin fills him .
He can't see his own cock painting the black rug white, but he can feel Jimin's come doing the same to his ass, flooding his insides and tainting not only his inner walls, but also his morality. And Jeongguk is obsessed .
Jimin has him sobbing, tears trickling down his face faster than Taehyung can wipe at them. Jeongguk desperately convulses on his cock, full-bodied, his hole uncontrollably spasming around Jimin as his third orgasm obliterates him.
He swears he passes out for a minute or two, only registering flashes of whatever's happening around him, eyelids barely open.
But the demon isn't deterred, still spilling into Jeongguk substantially and not breaking pace—if anything, getting to come again has given Jimin consecutive bursts of energy that he doesn't plan to waste.
The more he rides out his orgasm, the further Jeongguk slips into delirium. Screams and pleas progressively increasing in pitch.
"No more—can't— no more ," he begs, despondent. Trying to physically rip himself away from the sensation that has his body withering.
Jimin groans, not even needing to use his arms to raise his chest from where it lays across Jeongguk's back, hands gripping onto the flesh of his ass. "One more, sweetheart," he insists persuasively, "just one."
The oversensitivity burns , singeing him all over as he wails in disagreement, tears clinging to his lashes. Pleasure refusing to subside when Jimin keeps pistoning his hips.
Jeongguk weakly chants an assortment of unintelligible phrases, until fuck is the only thing he can brokenly pronounce or miraculously remember how to say, his own name long forgotten.
Even Taehyung's tender touch becomes overwhelming, as if he's decided to join in and push back inside of Jeongguk, too. Because Jimin's cock swells impossibly larger and the bulge grows enough to press Jeongguk's knuckles against the soiled spot on the rug.
Ardently, Jimin lifts Jeongguk's closed legs merely an inch off the ground with an arm coiled around his waist, while his other hand darts out to envelop his softening cock.
Jeongguk jerks aggressively, but his limbs won't respond. His hold on his stomach falls away when Jimin slaps the outline of the bulge with Jeongguk’s length.
"All you've done is ask to be touched here," Jimin relishes, constricting around him as he secures his hold on Jeongguk's shaft, "I think I deserve to be thanked. Don't you agree, Taehyungie?" Jimin gives him a single, slippery stroke, rings cold as they drag against the warmth of him, fingers tugging back the foreskin to toy with his frenulum. Jeongguk weeps, but the whimpers that he lets out are practically muted.
Taehyung cradles his cheek at the same time that Jimin cups his ass, and he follows his lead. Enjoying the wrestle between Jeongguk's mind and body as much as Jimin is, humming in accordance. "Good boys are supposed to be grateful." Taehyung speaks lightly, but his words are taunting. "You're a good boy, aren't you, Ggukie?"
Confounded, Jeongguk wants to retaliate, wishes he could remind them of how well he’s listened despite their penchant for riling him up on purpose. But all he musters is a nod of compliance and an almost imperceptible noise of agreement, because if he drags this out any longer, he won’t be able to endure it. Already so strung out and fighting to stay responsive.
“T-thank—you.” He emits a small hiccup between words, under the strict gaze of them both.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jimin chuckles, releasing Jeongguk’s cock in order to sink him back down onto his own, both arms grabbing him by the shoulders. He’s kicking his hips in a torturous way that Jeongguk should be used to, and yet it’s a definingly new experience each time. Has him itching to obtain that fucking wondrous feeling all over again, no matter how debilitating. “But I’m not done with you yet.” The smile in his voice vanishes.
Jimin’s balls, smooth and heavy, smack against Jeongguk’s roughly when he pounds into his hole repeatedly. The blunt force, paired with that of his cock spearing into Jeongguk’s abused prostate, renders him useless as the pointed tip jabs sadistically at the swollen bundle of nerves.
Jimin is graceful in every sense, even when he fucks like an animal. And Jeongguk’s left pliant as his vulnerability works in the demon’s favour.
Though, he notices that the intensity of Jimin’s thrusts have lessened, that there’s barely a stretch anymore as he pulses around Jimin’s cock. But it quickly dawns on Jeongguk that it only seems that way because he’s been fucked loose , his ass starting to numb like the rest of him.
Just the simple thought—something Jeongguk is surprised he can still process at all—of Jimin branding him with his cock, leaving his hole open and gaping, is what ultimately throws him over the precipice, sends him plummeting into spikes of poisonous pleasure but also agony. Doused with gasoline only to be lit with a match of bona fide desire.
“Need—coming—” He stutters through his crying. “ Yes, shit .”
When he releases, it’s not come that spurts from his lifeless cock this time. Instead, the dry orgasm wrings him out in a different, more humiliating way. Jeongguk goes static as he feels the initial dribbles of piss leak past his slit, unable to control how much spills out right after. He’s dreadfully attempting to cover himself once it streaks down his thighs and onto the rug, the stream hot against his skin and strikingly evident. Except he can’t stop shaking , and a few droplets trail along the underside of Jimin’s flared shaft where they’re joined together, hitting his balls before they slowly trickle off.
Jeongguk is mortified.
“Is this all for me, baby?” Jimin coos, letting go of both his shoulders to lean back and inspect the mess he’s made. “Your cute little cock couldn’t hold it in so you wet yourself?” Jeongguk had tensed up so that no more would accidentally pour out, but Jimin remedies that. Strictly massaging his bladder with his palm and using his fingers to simultaneously do the same against the bulge. It compels Jeongguk to writhe violently, allowing the last few rivulets of piss to flow from him and then taper off to a finish.
And he hates how there’s shame but also an unmatched sense of relief as he pushes into the pressure from Jimin’s hand.
“If I was any more selfish than I already am, I’d make you come as many times as I wanted,” Jimin declares fondly, hardly thrusting anymore but still buried deep, “just so Taehyung and I could see how pretty you look each time you do.”
Debauched, Jeongguk feels like he’s drifting in and out of consciousness, that same headspace from before clogging his mind. He inadvertently clamps down around Jimin one final time, and it’s like he was waiting for Jeongguk to greedily lock him in place, retaining his cock inside with a clench. Because the moment he does, Jimin’s filling him up after just having drained him in every way.
Jeongguk’s stomach nearly swells from how much there is, thick globs of come brimming past his hole when his ass can’t contain it all. Were he not as disoriented, he’d tell Jimin to keep his and Taehyung’s come plugged inside, to not break the established warmth yet. Wishes he could always be so comfortingly full, permanently molded around their cocks. But exhaustion threatens to consume him like the demon had just done—given the choice, he’d rather be claimed by Jimin and Taehyung than by sleep any day.
Tremors wrack through Jeongguk in the aftermath, slight quivers that bloom at the base of his spine and tingle outwards as Jimin carefully pulls out, holding him open to trace at his puffy rim. Drenched and hypersensitive, his broken mewl translate into garbled chaos. Taehyung angles his head and props it up from where it lays lax amidst the ruin, and Jeongguk briefly acknowledges the soft kiss they share before he finally lets his eyes flutter shut.
When the darkness begins to take over—not only his vision, but a tiny fragment of his soul—Jeongguk happily embraces it.
It’s as though he barely got the chance to savour his rightfully deserved rest when Jeongguk is being stirred awake, and an irritatingly bright light shines across his face.
Through heavy, sleep swollen eyes Jeongguk jerks upwards, his throat hoarse and burning when he gasps. Taehyung, equally as tired and sporting flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, stares down at him, gaze softening with recognition when he finds Jeongguk tucked against his side.
“Mornin’, bun.” Taehyung’s lazy drawl coupled with the huskiness of his morning voice makes Jeongguk’s heart annoyingly skip a beat. Snuggling closer, he basks in the heat of his skin where they touch. “Someone’s clingy,” he boasts, “not like I’m surprised.”
The leg that’s hitched across Taehyung’s side whips back, digging into his calf and causing him to yelp surprisingly. Jeongguk smiles against his shoulder. “Don’t act like you hate having me all over you.”
“Who says I was denying it in the first place?”
Jeongguk doesn’t respond, instead becomes mildly confused when he scans his surroundings and notices that this looks nothing like their dorm, a drastic change from their usual scenery, as well as the fact that they’re both lying on a couch that definitely isn't theirs.
A headache builds, pounding against Jeongguk’s temples as he tries to sit up and take note of everything around him but doesn’t manage. There’s a lingering, deep rooted soreness spiking through his body, from the inside out. Starting from the present ache in his calves, thighs and legs, and flaring out into a numb kind of ache settled around his ass.
Jeongguk groans at his straining muscles when he moves to sit up and everything hurts. So, instead, he stays still, quiet as he asks Taehyung if he’s okay.
Taehyung’s smile, while small, is also too amused for how own good. He shrugs. “Feeling brand new, Gguk. Why?”
Jeongguk stifles a sigh, because he’s certain that walking today is going to be a literal pain in the ass, and Taehyung won’t ever let him forget it.
Hesitating, Jeongguk asks sheepishly, “Was last night a fever dream?”
He’s met with a soft laugh. “Which part?”
“Taehyung,” Jeongguk whines. Weakly kicks him again, then cries out at the pain it inflicts on him instead. “Did I really fuck a sex demon? Like, is that something that happened?”
Smiling, with a hand curled around his shoulder and gently rubbing circles into his skin, Taehyung nods. Says, “Oh that? Yeah.”
“Yeah, a lot of that, too.” Taehyung doesn’t bat an eye at Jeongguk struggling to free himself for the hold he has on him. Contently watching Jeongguk squirm until he brings himself up to a sitting position. Slow, of course, but it’s the principle of it all.
Brief flickers from last night come to a halt in Jeongguk’s mind, reminding him of what he thought was all some kind of dream he’d made up thanks to the amount of alcohol he’d ingested.
Taehyung and their matching Spider-verse costumes. Halloween night. A game of truth or dare. The rundown hanok with a reputation for being haunted. The deafening silence that followed after he’d blow out the candle.
Something inhuman making itself known. No—someone inhuman. Otherworldly, and beautiful, soaked in the midst of dark shadows and moonlight. The face of a monster that fed off sex, who caught sight of Jeongguk and declared just how starved he was.
Jeongguk recalls it all in bits and pieces, each more vivid than the last. Taehyung above him, gentle—until he wasn’t—as he abdicated each of Jeongguk’s pleas. Jimin behind him, hard hands sinking into his hips as a thick, swollen and knotted cock sank inside him. The greed and eagerness that followed their lips chasing each other hungrily, paired with the ache that bloomed when hard hips met his skin.
All of that had been real.
Jeongguk had not only lost his virginity to Taehyung, but he’d also willingly offered up his body for Jimin to do with as he pleased. his body now bearing the brunt of the aftermath. A sore ass and aching, bruise-mottled thighs.
Not to mention the hit his pride is taking under the force of Taehyung’s amusement as he watches Jeongguk steadily lose his goddamn mind over his actions. What he’d done, what he’d asked Taehyung and Jimin to do.
Speaking of Jimin, Jeongguk surveys the room and comes up empty. Not a trace of the demon anywhere, as if he’d simply disappeared.
“Where’s Jimin?” Jeongguk peers from side to side, as if hoping the demon will materialize. Frowning when he doesn’t, Jeongguk turns to Taehyung as he sits up, as well, equally as slow.
Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, ruffling up the dark strands that fall into his eyes. A yawn working its way from his mouth. “Dunno’,” he mumbles, not at all shy about his state of undress. “After we cleaned you up I kinda’ just passed out, too.”
Heat tinges against Jeongguk’s cheeks. He purposely avoids Taehyung’s gaze as he gingerly stands up, searching for his clothes. His knees tremble, but otherwise hold him up as he attempts to find their discarded costumes, which he finds a few seconds later.
They’ve been folded and set on top of an abandoned couch cushion; Jeongguk’s Spider-Man costume sans sleeves courtesy of the rough treatment they’d taken. He blushes when he spies the bunny underwear.
Jimin saw those, too.
Within seconds, Jeongguk feels Taehyung behind him, his palm splayed against Jeongguk’s back before it moves away entirely. It’s a quiet, but rushed affair of getting dressed once more, and Jeongguk cringes as he steps into his underwear, wishes he had clean clothes instead.
“It’s bright out,” Taehyung comments absently, tugging the zip to Jeongguk’s costume up, breath warm and comforting against his nape. “We gotta’ get going, Gguk. The guys are probably worried.”
“It’s not like I can check my phone.” Sullenly, Jeongguk turns around and pouts at Taehyung, peering at him from beneath his lashes. “It’s broken.”
Taehyung pokes the tip of his nose, kissing the downturned corners of Jeongguk’s lips with a loud smack. “And whose fault is that?”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but then smiles into the chaste kisses, Taehyung’s lips brushing against his teeth by accident. He’s right in the sense that it’s bright outside and they have to go, but still. He hesitates—walking at an even slower pace than he’ll already have to adhere to thanks to the twinge in his legs—as Taehyung links their fingers together to lead them out.
During the day, the hanok loses its ominous vibe and appears as nothing other than an ordinary house. Still run down of course, but an ordinary house nonetheless. Jeongguk will definitely not miss this place.
It’s after they cross the front door’s threshold and step outside onto the cobblestone path when Jeongguk hears movement behind them, followed by a silky smooth voice.
“Leaving so soon without me? At least tell me where we’re going next.”
Both he and Taehyung turn towards the sound of Jimin’s voice, just as he appears and takes them by surprise. It happens like the first time they’d met him. Only now, there’s an excitement Jeongguk didn’t anticipate when he lays eyes on the creature.
Standing on top of the windowsill, leaning against the wooden frame in an almost lazy fashion, they find Jimin cradling the cat against him and stroking beneath its chin. Watching them with an intensity that burns through Jeongguk as a reminder of the things they’d done.
If Jimin’s beauty is a force to be reckoned with under the guise of darkness, then that effect is tripled during the day. Bathed in sunlight, Jimin’s skin seems to be made up entirely of gold that radiates from the inside out. Dewy and fresh, he even sports a hint of colour on his cheeks, his hair styled sleek and artfully swept aside so that a lock of silver hair curves over his forehead. He’s dressed in the same crisp outfit. Even the horns, which seemed so imposing last night, gleam as they catch the light.
Jeongguk resists the urge to gape, too busy attempting to focus on Jimin’s question. “Huh?”
Jimin hops down from the rotting window stool, answering clearly. “I said,” he emphasizes, pacing forward, “where are we going?”
“ We— “ Taehyung interrupts, gesturing between him and Jeongguk, brow quirked, “are going home. Last I checked, that didn’t include a demon tagging along. But I’m sure someone in Hell tolerates you enough to keep you company—if you’re lucky.”
Jeongguk wonders whether or not it takes a lot to offend Jimin, especially when the greatest insult to a demon is God himself. Though, it’s as if Taehyung constantly seeks to cross that line. But Jimin only lets his digs bother him at most; seems to consider them more entertaining than anything. When Jimin takes another stride, the cat tucked against his chest decides it doesn’t want to witness this pointless back and forth, squirming out of his arms and scurrying off. Honestly, Jeongguk can sympathize.
“Hilarious,” Jimin drawls, flashing Taehyung a smile that appears even more threatening than it did before, “but I wouldn’t be able to leave even if I wanted to. I finally have a reason to make my stay on Earth now.” Jimin looks between them in satisfaction. “Well— two .”
“Us...” Jeongguk breathes, “You mean us.”
Jimin offers a low hum of confirmation, circling around them once as they silently hesitate, careless almost. Dead grass and fallen leaves crunching beneath his boots. The first real hint of arrogance presents itself when he speaks. “Technically, only you. Whoever breaks the seal is the one I’m permanently bound to. But since you both proved to be more willing than I thought, I guess I can make an exception for him , as well.” He nods in Taehyung’s direction, biting his bottom lip.
Taehyung, unlike Jeongguk, doesn’t hold his tongue around Jimin, nor his mockery. “So, what, you’re asking us to make room for you? Haven’t you heard that three’s a crowd?” he retorts, the smile he gives Jimin tight.
The gold flecks in Jimin’s eyes visibly darken, the colour rich like whiskey. “Mm, my mistake.” He’s quick to tease, feigning comprehension with a hand on his chin. “I’m assuming that’s also the reason why you didn’t have a problem with everything we did last night?”
“How about this,” Taehyung suggests, pointedly ignoring Jimin’s remark despite the pink that dusts his cheeks, “you can be the monster under my bed. Down in the same place where I shove everything else I wanna’ get rid of.”
Jimin levels him with a challenging gaze, gestures towards Jeongguk and murmurs, “Jeongguk wouldn't keep me under his bed.”
“Jeongguk’s got a twin size,” Taehyung mutters, “ he can barely fit in his bed, let alone accommodate you under it.”
Put on the spot against the building tension between Taehyung and Jimin, Jeongguk stands in the middle of them, then sighs. Mildly exasperated, he says, “How about we don’t slander at my immaculately comfortable bed and instead address the real concern here, which is how we just acquired a pet demon?”
Jimin bristles. “I’m not a pet,” he sneers indignantly, “the only pet here is my cat, who’s purposely made himself scarce, the little shit.”
“Hey, let's leave the sarcasm to the professionals.”
Movement out of the corner of Jeongguk’s eye, coupled with that familiar tone of voice has him inhaling sharply, turning to find a surprising sight.
Through the front door, Yoongi casually walks out to stand beside Jimin, giving Jeongguk and Taehyung a little wave. The catwoman costume is nowhere to be found, and instead Yoongi’s outfit consists of dark wash jeans and a long sleeved grey shirt that covers the tips of his fingers, as monochrome as the clothing he usually wears, including his shoes.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Jimin murmurs, but regards Yoongi fondly nonetheless, fingers coming up to stroke beneath his chin. “How nice of you to finally join us.”
Jeongguk blinks. Thinks that surely he has to be dreaming now. Judging by the frown downturning Taehyung’s lips as he glances between the demon and Yoongi, it’s safe to say he’s equally as confused.
And angry. “What the hell is going on?”
“How annoyed do you think they’d be if I said the cat’s out of the bag ?” Yoongi asks Jimin gravely, pausing right before he snorts, wide shoulders shaking with mirth. Facing Jeongguk, he’s still laughing, but looks apologetic. “Sorry for hissing at you. No hard feelings but it had to be realistic, you know?”
“Uh, Jeongguk—” Taehyung whispers to get his attention, but with no success.
Affronted, Jeongguk crosses his arms as he bites back at Yoongi. “For your information, all animals love me. I’m an excellent pet owner.”
“We only love humans when they give us food. And, even then, they’re impossible to be around.” Yoongi’s expression is one of distaste. ”Bet those abandoned cats of yours back home won’t even remember you next time you visit.”
Taehyung nudges his shoulder roughly this time. “Jeongguk.”
“You bastard, take that ba— what ?” Frustratedly, Jeongguk whips his head around to glare at Taehyung, halting his train of thought. But Taehyung isn’t looking directly at him, he’s staring ahead of them. And when Jeongguk averts his gaze, he notices something swaying languidly behind Yoongi. Long, thinly shaped, and covered in fine, stark black hairs—a fucking tail.
“That’s a tail,” he states half-wittedly.
It twitches momentarily when Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Very observant of you.”
Jimin tuts, hitting against Yoongi’s side in reprimand. “Be nice to him, it’s not everyday you find out one of your friends is a pussy,” he chuckles, gaze falling soft on Jeongguk, “besides, he’s had a long night.”
“I’m sure he has, especially if you got your hands on him.” Yoongi isn’t impressed, judging by the scandalized purse of his lips. His tail swats forward, smacking Jimin against his chest, almost getting caught on one of the spikes embedded in Jimin’s wing, but it darts away with ease. When the demon turns to him confrontationally, Yoongi smiles, oblivious, as if it wasn’t intentional. “Oh, sorry, I forgot. I’m an animal,” he tells them sweetly, “I have no self-control.”
“Listen, I’d love to hear about how much of a savage you are, unironically, as much as the next person.” From beside him Jeongguk can feel the frustration pouring out of Taehyung in waves. How it brings with him an insurmountable amount of tension. “But do either of you care to explain what the fuck is happening?”
Jimin regards Taehyung coolly, not in the least bit fazed, tilting his head towards Yoongi. “It’s best if he explains. He loves the sound of his own voice anyways.”
Brightly, Yoongi leaps back and springs onto the railing, the way a cat would. Not a stumble in his step, he balances effortlessly. “Well, he’s right, I do. But I can’t be blamed for that.” He reasons with a shrug. “Anyways, onto what’s important. Let’s talk about me .”
Jeongguk and Taehyung fall silent, not wanting to miss a thing as Yoongi begins. It’s rather simple given what Jeongguk had been expecting, but bizarre nonetheless. Yoongi explains that he’s what can be referred to as a guardian for higher ranking demons, meant to maintain fidelity to them and help them fulfill their role, assuming the form of any animal he chooses in order to do so.
“But I prefer cats, obviously. They’re much nicer to look at, and it’s not like I mind all the attention humans want to give me,” Yoongi says simply, trailing off when he gets distracted by a stray mouse that scurries past the railing. “Anyways, as I was saying.”
According to Yoongi, he’s able to roam the earth using the appearance of a human freely, given his low rank. Which is how he’s been able to live amongst their friend group unnoticed, and essentially how he’d found Jimin over a thousand years ago, during the late era of the Joseon dynasty.
“I’ve heard this story so many times,” Jimin groans, rubbing at his temples.
Yoongi pauses from his ranting to shoot him a callously blank stare. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t gone and killed Jimin then you wouldn’t have to. Now, silence.”
Jeongguk immediately remembers the moment that the demon had told him and Taehyung what to call him.
“Is that your real name?”
“No, but it was the name of the last human I ate centuries ago before receiving the curse, my actual name is too difficult for a mortal’s tongue to pronounce, so make of that what you will.”
While they’d known beforehand that Jimin was a creature made up of lust and violence, having it confirmed once more causes a tremor to crawl up Jeongguk’s spine.
“Jimin used to lure men into his den with a feathered fan, you should’ve seen the way they followed him blindly. Human men can’t resist that kind of pull,” Yoongi knowingly stares at Jeongguk, who blushes hot around his neck. “He’d wear this hanbok that was weaved with gold thread—claimed it was almost as beautiful as him—and it was like watching lambs headed off to the slaughter; all those men without the slightest idea of what was going to happen to them.”
“He’s exaggerating,” Jimin mutters from his spot in front of them, arms crossed over his chest. “Some of them were more than willing to die for me.”
“I’m really not.” Yoongi continues over him, a faraway look on his face. “Regardless, all actions have consequences and even demons aren’t exempt from that. Who you know as Jimin now got too greedy, wreaked havoc on countless towns by seducing and then feeding off their men. For some time, everyone feared him. Until he was eventually punished accordingly by the original Jimin’s father—the village shaman.”
“Hence that fucking curse.”
“Someone’s still bitter,” Yoongi notes, flashing Jimin a smirk that drips with ridicule. “Serves you right, glutton . You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve gone through for you.”
Jimin doesn’t dignify him with a response, finds that focusing on the sharp point of his clawed nails is much more interesting, which leaves Yoongi to finish uninterrupted. As it turns out, the village shaman, unable to do much else, confined Jimin to his den once he’d heard the news of his son’s death, effectively trapping him inside for all of eternity, unless someone—a virgin—were to voluntarily free him by way of breaking the seal.
“Which is where Jeongguk comes in,” Taehyung breathes, exasperated as he shakes his head, “when he blew out that damn candle I told him to stay away from.”
“In my defense—”
“Better sit this one out, Gguk,” Yoongi sighs, hopping off the railing, agile on his feet. “I've been trying to bring people into this place for ages, but nobody who’s heard the rumors has ever wanted to, not willingly. But I was right to suspect that a dare would be enough to convince you to come here, you took the bait so easily.”
“It's not like I knew I’d actually summon a real life demon,” Jeongguk responds through a grunt, muttering a curse under his breath, “much less one that feeds off sex.”
“Sex you enjoyed,” Jimin murmurs, crowding in on him, only to be held at arms length when Taehyung places a hand on his chest.
“This has been great, and while we’ve learned a lot, like how we now have a pet demon and his smartass cat to deal with, where’s our money, Yoongi hyung?”
Yoongi, who’d been attempting to tiptoe away, is hauled back by Jimin. With a simple snap of his fingers, he keeps him rooted in place. Yoongi offers up a cringeworthy meow?
Jeongguk holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers. “Pay up, hyung. A deal is a deal,” he says sweetly.
Yoongi pretends to be offended. “I’ve already given you Jimin, isn’t he’s priceless?”
“A demon doesn’t pay the bills.” Taehyung glances at Jimin in contemplation, squinting. “Do you?”
“I mean, to be fair, I've never had to worry about those things.”
“Exactly—demons and their fucking privilege,” Taehyung confirms with a nod, nudging Jeongguk. “He can't move, go check his pockets, Gguk. Find his wallet.”
Not needing to be told twice, Jeongguk skips towards Yoongi, grinning from ear to ear when he stands before him. “Hi, hyungie,” he singsongs, already dipping his hands inside the deep pockets of Yoongi’s jeans much to his surprise. “I’ve never felt so close to you,” Jeongguk notes in a loving tone.
Yoongi bares his teeth, hissing similarly to how he’d done to Jeongguk yesterday, his tail stiffening. “You little shit.”
“You have no idea,” Jimin comments, absently ruffling his wings.
Ignoring them both, it doesn’t take long to find Yoongi’s wallet, small and leather bound. When Jeongguk opens it, he coos at the small photo of him and Hoseok before checking the middle compartment, where he’s pleased to find an impressive wad of cash.
“Oh man, hyung’s been pretending to be broke all this time,” Jeongguk whistles low, counts the bills slowly, then folds them over and slaps them against his palm. “Hope you don’t care if we take a little extra for our troubles.”
“As long as you don’t tell him,” Yoongi warns, but it fades into an almost plea, “Hoseok can’t know—not yet.”
Jeongguk’s expression lightens supportively, “You really like him, don’t you?”
With a light suck of his teeth, Yoongi simply grunts in agreement. And Jeongguk’s starting to question if him being so painfully tsundere actually has any correlation to him also being a demon. Or if that’s just the Yoongi he’s grown to know and love—despite his newfound demonic tendencies.
“I promise I won’t say anything,” Jeongguk concedes, “I’ll let you have the honour of dealing with his reaction.” It comes off as a joke, but Yoongi should genuinely be concerned for his well-being when Hoseok finds out. Jeongguk would not like to be near when his temper is tested. Hoseok’s the sweetest person he’s ever met—until he gets crossed.
Jimin clears his throat, clasping his palms together. “Well, I’m glad you’ve all managed to settle your differences, truly. It warms my heart.” He wanders over to the edge of the fence that separates the hanok from the outside world, placing a foot beyond the border of grass, albeit hesitantly. When he doesn’t burst into flames or recoil in any sort of pain, Jeongguk sees the shift in Jimin’s behaviour.
“But it seems I’ve got other, more important things to attend to.” Giving Taehyung a once over, Jimin licks his lips as he scans him from head to toe with a glint in his eyes that they undoubtedly recognize—hunger. “Now, when’s lunch? ”