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Birthday Boy

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It's Yoongi's birthday today, and he's fucking excited.

It's going to be an amazing night. He's in his comfiest pajama pants and fluffy boots, with the warmth of his laptop cradled in his arms, earphones dangling around his neck; and last but definitely not least, his annoying as fuck friends are nowhere to be seen. (They decided to surprise him with a cake the size of his head during one of his lectures today with loud obnoxious singing and a bright overly big birthday hat to top it all off. His professor's glare might as well have killed him on the spot. Thank god that was over. )

Now, Min Yoongi buries into his mass of pillows with a content sigh. His favourite K-drama was starting soon, and the large pizza all to himself was on the way. Tonight was going to be the best night ever, and no one, especially not Hoseok and his theatrics was going to ruin it for him.

It's not long before Yoongi realizes that he might have spoke too soon.

He's in the middle of stuffing popcorn into his mouth, when the doorbell rings.

"Frrmuck off Hoseok!" Yoongi mumbles around the mouthful of popcorn. "I'm not going to a strip club!"

There's no reply, and instead the doorbell rings again.

"No!" Yoongi huffs,burying himself deeper into the couch. Hoping that if he goes far enough, they'll just fuck off.

But the bell rings again, and again and again. Until Yoongi growls, rolls of the sofa and waddles towards the door in his mess of blankets.

"What the fuck do you want Hoseok, I told you-" Yoongi huffs angrily, throwing the door open.... To what is decidedly not Hoseok.

Instead it seems to be a typical college boy. Well, except the fact he's way too goddamn pretty to just be any college boy. Firm shoulders beneath a crisp suit, the slight expanse of neck peeking from an opened collar and crooked tie. Yoongi's gaze flicks up to plump red lips and pretty eyes smeared with the barest hint of eyeliner. And there Yoongi is, blankets atop his shoulders like some fluffy sheep and popcorn crumbs littering his shirt. He literally looks like some hobo next to this guy.

Yoongi blinks. Once. Twice. And then says. "Who the hell are you?"

The boy smiles, sweet and shy. "You must be Yoongi. My name is Jimin, I'm here to keep you company for the night," he gives Yoongi a brilliant smile. All crinkled eyes and perfect teeth.

Yoongi blinks again. "What?" The boy's smile widens and then it hits Yoongi. No. Oh heeeell no.

"Can I come in?" Jimin asks, and gives Yoongi a look through his eyelashes, the raw red of his lips caught between his teeth. It's a calculated move, Yoongi knows that, but it still makes him swallow nervously.

"No," Yoongi says, and Jimin head tilts in a pout. "No, no, no nooo." Yoongi takes a few steps back. " I'm not letting a.... a-"  Yoongi flails his hands a little.

"Escort?" Jimin supplies helpfully.

"-prostitute into my dorm okay." Yoongi finishes. "Look thanks and all but seriously, tell my friends to fuck off."

Jimin shoulders droop and he gives Yoongi an exaggerated pout; and how a prostitute who was seconds away from becoming the living embodiment of sex turn so adorable so quickly was beyond Yoongi. "Please?" Jimin's eyes widen. "Your friends already paid and I'm really really good company I promise!"

"No," Yoongi says firmly.

Jimin blinks cutely. "Please? We don't even need to fuck or anything. I'm seriously really good company. I'll do anything you want! Massages, cooking, blowjob-"

"Okay fine whatever," Yoongi cuts in with a roll of his eyes. " Just don't steal anything or bother me okay? Jeez. "

Jimin perks up instantly. "Thanks Yoongi!" Jimin says instead, eyes crinkling into little crescents.

"Should be Yoongi hyung to you. How old are you anyway?" Yoongi sighs, watching as Jimin closes the door behind him.

"21!" Jimin answers with a wide smile.

"Well, then I’m hyung to you."

Jimin nudges Yoongi with his elbow only to get swatted away. "But you're so small... hyung."

Yoongi's eyebrow twitches. "Don't get snarky on me brat or else I'm going to kick you out."

"Of course Yoongi-hyung!" Jimin says happily.

Yoongi sighs. It's definitely going to be a long night.

-

The first thing Jimin does is burrow into what was previously Yoongi's pillow pile. "Wah, it's so warm." Jimin says, throwing off his suit jacket and tie and dives headfirst onto the couch (Yoongi's couch!) in a flurry of limbs, and starts attacking the popcorn. (Yoongi's popcorn!).

Yoongi throws him a glare he doesn't notice, and then says. "How do I know this is not just elaborate story and you're actually just some hobo or thief coming to steal my stuff, hmm?"

Jimin wrinkles his nose, and gives Yoongi a smile. It's a reminder of the Jimin he met when he first opened the door. Small smirks and dark looks. "Do I look like some hobo to you?"

Yoongi swallows and tears his gaze away, moving to his armchair. "Yes," He says finally, keeping his gaze on the TV.

"Ah!" Jimin whines. "Why are you so mean hyuuung?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes and makes grabby hands towards Jimin's general direction. "Shut up. My show's starting soon and give me the popcorn you're currently hogging."

Jimin doesn't pass him the popcorn and giggles instead. "Are we watching the K-drama?"

Yoongi sighs. "Shut up."

"Oh my god, with that girl and those one-liners?"

"Just give me the popcorn."

"And the-" Jimin doesn't get to finish the sentence because Yoongi hurls a pillow that hits him straight in the face.

"Stop being annoying or else I'm locking you in the closet," Yoongi says.

"Mrrg, I actually like dramas too," Jimin mumbles around the face full of pillow. Yoongi doesn’t bother to reply, and hurls another pillow in his direction.

"Thanks," Jimin says. "You're just adding to my pillow fort."

"How the fuck are you a prostitute? You're such a kid." Yoongi says with a roll of his eyes. 

Jimin responds by sticking out his tongue.

-

Yoongi vows to himself, that after the night ends he will never ever take Jimin to the movies or anything. (Not that they will have a night after this, of course.) Because Jimin is so goddamn annoying.

"It's like you've never seen a drama before," Yoongi says, when Jimin squeaks in surprise at the ~dramatic~ reveal of the love triangle. "It's so obvious."

Jimin doesn't respond, eyes fixed on the TV, clutching the multitude of pillows (Yoongi’s pillows!) to his chest. Making another excited jerk when the heroin gives a dramatic turn into the camera and the overly cliché voice over sounds.

Yoongi sighs. "You're ruining this for me. I'm going to take a shower."

Jimin perks up at that, lips spreading into an easy smile. “Do you want me to join you?” Yoongi's stomach flips at the thought of Jimin in the shower with him, water dripping across Jimin's bangs and lips and chest and-

"D..don't be stupid," Yoongi says, standing up quickly.

Jimin gives a knowing smirk. "Whatever you want boss."

"Don't steal anything, and don't eat all the popcorn. "Yoongi says over his shoulder as he makes his way towards the shower.

He thinks he hears Jimin mumble something along the lines of pillows. And makes a mental note that there better be all 12 pillows on the couch by tomorrow morning.

It’s only when Yoongi’s changing out of his clothes and opening the shower faucet to warm up the water that the weirdness of the situation hits him. There is a prostitute in his dorm. Eating his popcorn. Watching his guilty pleasure drama, when it’s his birthday.

Yoongi sighs. He's definitely going to stab Hoseok or whoever is behind this with multiple flaming candle sticks.

As the hot water hits his back, it’s only then he starts to relax, tension leaking out from the tight coils of his shoulder. Yoongi gives a loud involuntary groan of contentment. Finally, finally he's alone and there's no ridiculously attractive prostitute to bother him.

"Hey I heard that!" A voice sounds from the closed bathroom door, and Yoongi jolts so hard he almost slips and kills himself. You know what? Scrap that last sentence. The universe hates Min Yoongi. "Are you sure you don't need help?" Jimin's overly perky voice sounds.

"What the fuck Jimin! Go away!"

And thank god Yoongi remembered to lock the door because the doorknob actually rattles. "I give great hand jobs!" Jimin says.

The reply he gets is a shampoo bottle hurled at the door, and Yoongi smiles to himself when Jimin gives a startled yelp.

-

When Yoongi gets back to the living room, a towel slung across his neck; he finds a drowsy Jimin, a mess of brown hair, shirt hiked up to the edges of his hipbones, surrounded by a wave of pillows and a pizza box atop his chest.

And if Yoongi didn't know better, it looked like someone had ravaged the hell out of him.

"Did you eat my pizza?" Yoongi says, looming over the sleepy mess of Jimin, hands perched on his hips in what he hopes is a menacing way.

"Mm," Jimin blinks groggily. "You were taking too long and I was hungry." he whines.

Yoongi slowly opens the pizza box atop Jimin's chest and his mouth drops open. "You ate like three quarters of the pizza, asshole. My pizza."

Jimin smiles lazily, and rubs at his stomach, effectively shucking his shirt higher so Yoongi gets a glimpse of firm skin and pretty fingers. Yoongi swallows and shifts his gaze to stare at the sad three pieces of pizza slices instead. "Sorry," Jimin gives an apologetic smile. 'I can make it up to you?" He adds innocently.

Yoongi snatches the pizza box and stalks towards his armchair, angrily taking a bite of half cold pizza.

"Awh. Hyung you're making me feel bad now." Jimin pouts, a tuft of hair poking through the mass of pillows.

"You're making me feel bad." Yoongi sniffs. "Aren't you supposed to make me feel good or some shit?"

Jimin is quiet for a few seconds before he says. "I could."

"Fine then," Yoongi says. "Compliment me every few seconds."

Jimin raises his head from the couch. "Are you serious?"

Yoongi gives a smug smirk over his pizza. "Yep, least you could do."

"Hyung, you have nice legs?" Jimin mumbles.

"What."

"No seriously you could be in SNSD or something!" Jimin says with a firm nod.

Yoongi sighs. "You can do better than that."

"You have a really nice smile?"

"Nope."

"You look really cool in your turtle pajamas?"

"Jimin," Yoongi sighs.

"Your heart is as big as my dick?"

".....What the fuck sort of compliment is that?" Yoongi says with a shake of his head.

Jimin grins brightly. "Well at least you know it means you have a big heart!"

Yoongi answers with another pillow hurled in Jimin's direction.

-

Jimin ends up falling asleep an hour later, head dropping onto the mess of pillows and popcorn crumbs, a soft rumble of snores. Yoongi notices, sighs in relief as he bends down and drapes the blanket over Jimin, who gives a sleepy sniffle in response.

“You’re a little shit you know that right?” Yoongi sighs, watching the sleepy flutter of Jimin’s eyelashes. And with that, he shuts the flicker of the TV and the light, taking one look at the sleeping boy before making his way towards his bed.

-

It’s pitch black when the shuffling of his blankets, and the dipping of his mattress wakes Yoongi up. He blinks to see a hazy mess of hair and bright eyes.

“Mm.. what the hell?” Yoongi mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

Jimin makes a noise akin to a whine. “Your fridge started making weird noises. I got scared hyung.”

“You’re so annoying.” Yoongi says, but he can’t help but huff a laugh. “My friends literally paid you to come raid my personal space.”

Jimin scoots up against Yoongi’s back. “You don’t seem to mind too much,” he says softly.

Yoongi yawns. “Believe me I do.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Yoongi murmurs into the pillows, eyes slipping closed. And that’s the end of that.

But he can’t seem to get back to sleep. Jimin’s breath is hot against his neck, arms draped over his shoulders, the press of his legs against his, warmth seeping through his thin shirt into the curve of Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi’s finding it hard to breathe.

“Jimin?” He whispers.

“I’m not asleep hyung.” Jimin replies and he sounds more awake than anything.

Yoongi shakes his head. “I… It’s nothing.”

“Okay,” Jimin says, and then he presses closer. Yoongi flinches, when he feels Jimin’s breath hot against his neck, lips grazing his ear. “Hyung.” Jimin murmurs softly. “It’s just a present. It's okay, just one night.” The words are slow, calculated and surprisingly gentle.

“I…” Yoongi hesitates.

Jimin’s lips brush against Yoongi’s ears, the slight hint of wetness. “Please.”

At that Yoongi turns around, tangles his fingers in Jimin’s hair and takes. Jimin responds just as quickly, pressing against Yoongi, surging forward with a certain ferocity, hands spanning his chest, his hips, fingers skimming against sensitive skin.

“Yoongi.’ Jimin gasps, and Yoongi swallows it all, the breathy moans and drawn out sighs. Jimin arches under his touch. So soft, and pliant and perfect.

“God you’re so fucking pretty.” Yoongi breathes, fingers tangling with Jimin’s shirt, fumbling with button by button to reveal smooth skin. Yoongi can't help but lean down and press biting kisses against Jimin’s chest, and there’s probably a rule against marking prostitutes but Yoongi doesn’t care, and Jimin is so lost he doesn’t say anything, replying with a litany of breathy moans.

Yoongi’s lips dip lower, teeth grazing against his torso, and Jimin keens. A shivery perfect mess under shaking hands. And when Yoongi presses fingers to his erection, Jimin’s hips stutter, and he breathes a broken sound of Yoongi’s name.

“Stop,” Jimin says, voice shaky. “I’m… I’m supposed to make you feel good, not… ah!”

“I want to.” Yoongi says, unzipping Jimin’s pants and pushing them down along with his briefs to a mess around his ankles. “I want to.” He repeats, nipping gently at Jimin’s hipbone, fingers splayed against his stomach.

Jimin reaches down and grips Yoongi’s hair. “Please,” he begs, when Yoongi’s breath fans his cock. “Touch me. Please.”

Yoongi laughs. “Someone’s demanding.” he teases, but obliges .Yoongi relishes in the startled squeak Jimin makes when he leans in, dragging his tongue against his cock. It’s slow and in no way hurried. Yoongi is gentle, fingertips digging into his hips, drawing out moans from Jimin with each push of his mouth and roll of his tongue. Jimin completely melts, hips arching up into broken thrusts, mind a muddled mess, fingers tangled in Yoongi's hair.

“How..” Jimin arches his hips as Yoongi pushes forward, heat surging under his abdomen. “How the hell are you.. so fuck- good at this?”

Yoongi pulls off Jimin’s cock with a wet pop, and Jimin gives a small whine. Yoongi only laughs and moves up Jimin’s body smoothly, lips dipping to his neck. “You’d be surprised .” He murmurs, teeth grazing against the juncture of his exposed throat.

“Someone’s still ah wearing clothes.” Jimin huffs petulantly, pinching Yoongi through his shirt.

“You going to do something about that?” Yoongi asks as he rolls his hips down, smirking when Jimin’s grip tightens against his arms, desperation dripping across bare skin. Jimin doesn’t reply, but his fingers are quick to reach under Yoongi’s shirt. His nails grazing lightly, breathing kisses across his exposed shoulders, and neck, breath running hot against his cheek, snatches of his name and sighs tangled in bed sheets.

It’s not long before Yoongi’s shirt is discarded for teeth against naked skin, and this time it’s Yoongi who’s gripping tightly, hips stuttering, teetering on the edges of control. Because god, could Jimin use his tongue, mapping out Yoongi’s chest before moving down, dipping to his thighs. Yoongi’s already a shaking mess and his cock is still untouched.

He feels a breath of hot air against his cock, anticipating and desperate, when Jimin hesitates. Yoongi jerks his hips up, and almost knees Jimin in the face. “What the hell, stop being such a tease and just blow me.” Yoongi snaps.

“You’re so mouthy,” Jimin pouts, tongue flicking out to run over his lips. Fucking tease.

“Jimin I swear to-”

“I’m just joking,” Jimin grins and then the wet heat of Jimin’s lips are on him, warm and overwhelming. Yoongi gives a surprised moan as pleasure blooms under his stomach, hot to touch, and Yoongi can’t do anything but feel and feel, sharp pleasure and warm lips, and shaky hands and-

“Jimin fuck I’m going to come.” Yoongi bites out. “I’m-”

Jimin pulls off, lips a glistening red. “Not yet hyung. You still have to fuck me.” He says, sweet and innocent. Yoongi is already so far gone.

“I don’t think I’m going to last that long.” Yoongi admits, when Jimin’s moves up to press wet kisses against his neck, trailing them to his mouth.

“That would be a shame,” Jimin sighs. “Because I prepped for you, you know.” 

At that, heat shoots straight down his stomach, and Yoongi bites back a moan. “I swear to god.”

Jimin laughs, knees pressed to each side of Yoongi. “So hyung, will you fuck me?” He asks, fingers splayed across Yoongi’s chest.

“I hate you,” Yoongi breathes, but moves to flip Jimin over as the sound of his laughter resounds across the room.

-

When Yoongi wakes up, the first thing he notices is that he’s cold, cool air fanning against his naked chest. The second thing he notices is that the bed smells weirdly of expensive cologne and something else he can’t pinpoint. The third thing he notices is-

“Jimin,” Yoongi says, blinking up at the ceiling. Jimin in particular, was nowhere to be seen. After last night he had octopus-ed his arms around Yoongi in an unbearably hot spoon. No wonder it was so cold this morning. “Jimin.” Yoongi repeats, still groggy with sleep, memories from last night hazy in his head. He turns to the side of his bed, his empty side, and can’t help but feel a little bit sad.

Just a little bit though. Just a little.

It takes way too long for Yoongi to drag himself on his feet, even longer for him to get dressed. After all, his shirt had been flung to the farthest corner of the room, and his pants shoved under his bed. His briefs are nowhere to be seen.

It’s only when he’s on his second cup of coffee that he notices a bulging envelope on his kitchen table, scribbled with what looks like Hoseok’s chicken scratch, Jimin. Curious, Yoongi opens it. His mouth promptly drops open. Several stacks of money are shoved into the big envelope, a sum that leaves Yoongi’s mouth dry. God there must be at least 2 million won in there.

Yoongi swallows. So Jimin had been pricey. Very, very pricey.

“Huh,” Yoongi says, slowly pushing the envelope away, because it’s way too early and he doesn’t have enough coffee in his system to process this.

It’s only when he’s on his fourth cup of coffee that he notices the little yellow post-it note next to his charging phone. Yoongi squints, moves closer, and then his lips split into a grin.

If you want your pillow back you better call this number ;)