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They’ve just won their first daesang at MAMA 2016 and Yoongi feels like his world is exploding. At first, it’s fine; he laughs with Jimin, walking up to the stage, making sure to remind him that it’s in fact a daesang that they’ve won and they both laugh in pure joy. He’s smiling, so proud of the rest of his members and he feels euphoric.

 

        But it’s sometime in the middle of Namjoon’s tearful speech when it hits him.

 

        He’s on stage in front of thousands of people, hundreds of thousands more watching at home, receiving an award for being the best. His parents are probably at home, along with his hyung, watching and feeling proud of him. He remembers what it was like at the beginning, struggling to remain motivated as a trainee for three years when he could have instead just been a producer, could have joined the rest of their former group when they had all decided bangtan wasn’t for them.

 

        But here he is, receiving an award for being the best.

 

        He glances around and he can see Jungkook crying, looking so wrecked Yoongi feels a lurch in his chest, and then he notices so is Seokjin, and, Hoseok, and hell even their noble leader is crying while struggling to formulate a speech. He feels his heart burning.

 

        He’s not sure exactly when he starts crying but suddenly he can’t control himself, his entire body folding in on himself as he covers his face because everything feel so intense, so painful, in such a sweet way. He feels Hoseok wrap an arm around him and he’s grateful for the slight cover because he feels like he’s breaking from the inside out.

 

        Eventually, he manages to lower his hand, so grateful for their fans that he doesn’t want to hide from them even if he’s sure his face is hideous and bright, bright red. Hoesok’s arm stays around him and it makes him feel safe and then Namjoon’s pulling them all into a hug and he feels warm inside.

 

        Somehow, among all their happiness and tears and cheering once they’re off stage, the trophy ends up getting passed to Yoongi. He can’t stop looking at it, rubbing off small smudges with his sleeves, staring at it. At some point, he’s forced to give it up to Namjoon so they can take a group photo with the leader at the centre but he retrieves it soon enough, spending the entire ride back to their dorm admiring it.

 

        He’s alone in his dorm room when they get back, Seokjin had stuttered something out about “celebrating” with Namjoon and had left awkwardly as always, as if Yoongi wasn’t used to this pattern by now. He tended to enjoy the private time, alone in the quiet room. Sometimes Jimin would come by and try and give him some company, as he claimed Yoongi needed to socialize more beyond drowning in his studio and sleeping.

 

        Their manager forgot to take the trophy from him in all the chaos of celebrating once they had gotten back. Everyone had been crying and it had been touching and Yoongi had used it for his own advantage. It wasn’t stealing, he had won it just as equally his as everyone else’s and all he wanted was one night to revel in his success. All those sleepless nights, the physical pain from dance practice and hours spent stressing over lyrics that just didn’t sound right.

 

        He can still feel his blood thrumming through his veins in excitement, the high of receiving the award still not having worn off. He finds himself stroking the smooth trophy, the sleek metal cool under his finger tips but it warms up quickly in response to his own body heat. He can’t help but admire it, even if it is kind of… phallically shaped.

 

        Yoongi laughs at the idea and he realizes that most of the trophies they’ve received are. But he realizes he’s still lightly running his finger over it, curious, as he feels himself getting hard in his pants. It’s kind of dirty, but he’s never felt so successful in his entire life, at least not since the first time his parents attended their concert. He sets the trophy down on the bed, deciding he might as well enjoy himself while he has the room to himself.

 

        It’s become a simple routine, when Seokjin will sneak off with Namjoon, Yoongi locks the door and reaches deep into his side table for his bottle of lube. He pulls off his shirt and slips off his pants easily to get comfortable, almost knocking the trophy off the bed in the process. He considers putting it away but he’s otherwise distracted so he doesn’t bother, grasping his cock and hissing through his teeth lightly at the feeling.

 

        Yoongi allows himself a couple moments to enjoy the feeling, eyes closing as he enjoys the simplicity in this moment. So much simpler than worrying over every action, every movement, and everything else he does on stage. Eventually he fumbles for the lube, suddenly a lot more desperate than he had been earlier. Quickly lubing up his fingers and warming it up slightly, he readjusts his hand around his back, running the tip of a finger around his hole for a couple seconds to prepare himself before slowly slipping it in.

 

        He hisses at the burn, used to it by this point, but it’s always a bit of a stretch at first despite knowing it’ll be worth it. He takes his time with the first finger, stroking himself casually with his other hand to maintain interest. He forces himself to relax, already getting used to the burn as he adds another finger. It doesn’t take very long before he has three fingers in and his breath starts coming hot and heavy, small groans escaping him on each push in. His entire body feels sensitive as the sheets start sticking against his sweaty skin.

 

        Yoongi’s glad his fingers are long and skinny and he’s always appreciated his own hands, especially when he had been learning the piano, but it’s an uncomfortable position and his wrist always aches and sometimes he wishes he wasn’t so insanely lonely. He’s never been involved with anyone, much less a guy, and now he probably wouldn’t get the opportunity to until long after he’s no longer an idol if he wants to avoid any scandals that could ruin the entire group. It wouldn’t be fair to the work that the rest of them have put in but it’s still so frustrating.

 

        He muffles a frustrated groan against his pillow, trying to bend himself in a more comfortable position when he feels cool metal against his stomach, jumping slightly. He realizes it’s the trophy, and maybe he’s slightly desperate because he finds himself contemplating it’s shape. He had been joking, but he finds himself pulling his fingers off instead to grasp for the bottle of lube, grabbing the trophy and spreading the lube over it.

 

        He rubs along the shaft of the trophy for a while, warming up the cool surface of the trophy just enough that it’s no longer freezing but he doesn't waste enough time to stop and consider what he’s actually doing. There’s no way he would ever get away with having a dildo at the dorm, someone would find it and that wouldn’t end well so this was his only chance.

 

        At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself when he readjusts to press the head of the trophy against his hole. It’s a bit of a stretch at first but Yoongi has been fingering himself for a while and he has to admit he’s excited. He feels a shiver throughout his entire body at the what he’s doing. After this, they will put the trophy on display and he’s the only one who will ever know the truth.

 

        It takes some time for the entire trophy to fit, near the end the struggle becomes too hard and Yoongi gives up, satisfied with the amount he’s managed to get inside him. It feels overwhelming, so deep and thick inside of him, so much larger than his fingers could ever be. It reaches so deep and he’s never felt this before, never felt so full and stuffed and Yoongi can’t help himself, shoving his face into his pillow, trying to muffle his moans as he slowly pulls the trophy out and then thrusts it back himself. His entire body lurches in response, a large exhale escaping him. His bangs are in his eyes, sweat slicking them down and blocking his vision and he can’t help jamming the trophy back inside of him again.

 

        Yoongi manages to get his other hand around his cock again, his body shivering at the pleasure running through him. And then suddenly his dark room is bright. He quickly releases himself, his spare hand moving to shove his bangs out of the way and that’s when Yoongi makes eye contact with a stunned, frozen Jimin standing in the doorway. Yoongi feels his entire body freeze, limbs feeling shaky but not moving an inch as his eyes widen so far that his vision blurs slightly in response.

 

        He’s not even sure what’s proper protocol at this moment; should he remove the trophy or leave it inside him? Yoongi’s kind of praying that Jimin just leaves so he can clean himself up and then try and confront him before any of the news spills when Jimin takes a step into his room, shutting the door behind him and plunging Yoongi’s room into darkness.

 

        Yoongi can hear the lock of the door click shut, the one he had assumed he had locked but had clearly forgotten to because his initial priority hadn’t been shoving their trophy as far as possible up his asshole. That’s when Yoongi realizes Jimin is inside of the room, that he’s stepping further inside and he is suddenly afraid.

 

        “I-I, Jimin-” Yoongi stutters, moving to remove the stupid trophy from himself when he realizes how bad the entire incident looks, realizes they’ll probably kick him out of BTS and he’s worked so hard they can’t do that to him. His breathing is coming out faster and faster, in fear instead of pleasure minutes ago, as Jimin slowly makes his way over.

 

        Yoongi can’t see his face until he’s close but it’s neutral and Yoongi doesn’t feel safe because what if Jimin thinks he’s disgusting and goes public. He realizes he’s kind of dizzy from lack of air when Jimin runs a calming hand through Yoongi’s sweaty hair, shushing him lightly like a nervous child.

 

        “Look, I’m- I’m sorry, just-” Yoongi struggles, trying to compose himself enough to apologize when Jimin smirks and his eyes flicker downwards, using the limited streetlight coming from the window to see. Yoongi struggles to see as his eyes tearing up slightly and before he can beg for Jimin to leave and forget everything, Jimin reaches down and slowly pulls the trophy out of a suddenly quiet Yoongi and then he’s shoving it back in, jamming it against Yoongi’s prostate.

 

        Yoongi’s chest arches off the bed, feet digging into the mattress propelling him up and his head flies back as he squeezes his eyes shut and sees pure white. He’s not even sure if the sounds he can hear are his own moans when Jimin does it again, easily adapting and getting better at making Yoongi’s entire body feel weak. He’s not even sure why it feels so much better when Jimin does it but it’s a completely different sensation, like the entire sensation has been magnified and is a million times more intense.

 

        Yoongi manages to gather enough energy to open his eyes, his eyes not leaving Jimin’s who simply smiles back at him for a moment before he leans down to lick a long stripe along Yoongi’s neck, nibbling slightly along the bottom of the jaw. Yoongi can’t help the high pitched whine that escapes him and he feels electricity shoot through him as he catches a light moan coming from Jimin in response.

 

        “Fuck,” Jimin groans against his neck and Yoongi would reply in agreement if he could control his vocal chords as Jimin continues to thrust the trophy in and out of him. “You look so good like this,” he promises, moving up to place his lips near Yoongi’s ear so he can whisper crude things to him in this deep, husky voice that Yoongi has never heard from Jimin except for that one time he had been sick.

 

        “This is so wrong, so dirty, but you like that don’t you? Can you imagine if everyone knew what you were doing with our daesang?” Jimin taunts quietly, “I didn’t know you were kinky like this, hyung.” And then he laughs, a precious little giggle and Yoongi falls against the bed, losing all strength in his body as he limply wraps his arms around Jimin’s shoulders, digging his nails in so he can feel more grounded because his entire body feels like it’s in heaven.

 

        Jimin pulls back, eyes locked on Yoongi’s. Jimin’s lips are so plump and perfect and Yoongi can’t help dragging Jimin down into a desperately wet and messy kiss, pressing himself up against Jimin’s clothed body. It feels so lewd that he’s naked while Jimin is fully dressed and shoving his tongue down his throat and their trophy up his ass and it makes Yoongi quiver. Then suddenly Jimin’s also pumping his cock and within seconds Yoongi is coming, muffling his scream into Jimin’s mouth as Jimin shoves the trophy inside him deep and holds it, leaving him so full as he rides through his orgasm.

 

        Yoongi slumps down into the bed, chest heaving as he pants heavily and stares up at Jimin in wonder. He kind of feels like he’s having a religious experience even if he’s not sure what that means because he’s floating. Jimin slowly removes the trophy from Yoongi who winces in response, setting it down on the bed beside them. He leans down for a chaste kiss on Yoongi’s lips before he pulls back to laugh, once again in that perfect giggle that sounds like bells ringing or maybe a chorus of angels to Yoongi.

 

        “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. Well, not that specifically, but you know what I mean,” Jimin explains, a bright smile breaking out on his face as his eyes rise into adorable crescents. Yoongi pouts in response but he can’t help but feel a little bit blessed, even if what they had just done had been the exact opposite, incredibly sinful.

 

        They clean up the trophy and the next day when they all put it up on display, illuminated by a backlight with all their other trophies at BigHit, Jimin turns around and smirks at Yoongi.