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It’s not like Yoongi doesn’t know.
Jimin was a freshman the first time Yoongi noticed him. A transfer kid from Busan with round, full cheeks and an eye smile that got him almost anything he wanted. Yoongi always would catch him staring, and it was cute really, the way he’d blush all the way to the tips of his ears and immediately look away.
Even though they were a year apart, almost never in the same classes, when Jimin joined the cheerleading squad Yoongi saw him almost every day. The football team’s practices usually coincide with cheer practices, so it was easy for Yoongi to watch Jimin’s baby fat melt away, watch as his confidence grew and he flourished amongst the popular crowd.
Jimin’s crush on him doesn’t wane. If anything it intensifies.
And Yoongi isn’t one to get involved with stuff like that. Jimin can flirt and bat his lashes at almost anyone to get what he wants, but Yoongi’s never had that luxury. He works hard to keep his grades up so his position as the school’s all-star quarterback isn’t in jeopardy. An athletic scholarship is his only chance of getting into college, so between homework, tutoring sessions, and football, there really isn’t time for anything else.
But Jimin certainly does a good job of being a distraction.
He's known for being a flirt and getting what he wants, whether that be the attention of someone else or that good grade on a test everyone wishes they had. It's like everything falls right into the palms of his hands, unlike Yoongi, who spends late nights at practice or typing up a paper last minute, so it's only fair in Yoongi's mind that he ignore Jimin's persistence in trying to get his attention. His nonchalant attitude has worked so far, but when football season comes around, that means it's harder for him to avoid Jimin and his flirting.
Cheerleading practice almost always coincides with football practice. It’s supposed to help bonding between the two groups, but in Yoongi’s opinion, the team would really get more done if the guys didn’t spend half of practice staring over at the cheerleaders. They’re both out on the field today, the cheer squad out of their way, but still definitely in view of the football players. Yoongi’s already had to jostle some of the players to get them focused on the game and not the pretty cheerleaders across the field, but it’s still warm outside, and the guys ogle at the teeny shorts the girls are wearing, mumbling in clusters and spewing out all the hormonal garbage highschool boys can’t keep to themselves.
Today, Jimin is wearing a pair of those tiny shorts as well with the curve of his ass and the swell of his thighs on full display. It’s just Yoongi’s luck that the team’s running back, Jeon Jeongguk, catches him in a moment of weakness, staring across the field as Jimin perfectly bends himself in half, hands on the back of his thighs to keep himself in a forward fold.
Jeongguk’s sly smile pops into view and Yoongi jerks away.
“Oh, is hyung getting distracted?” comes his playful voice, and Yoongi scowls. “Weren’t you just yelling at the team for it? You hypocrite.”
“Should make you all run laps is what I should do,” he snaps, pointedly looking away from where Jimin has transitioned to lowering himself into a full split. His shirt rides up in the motion and Yoongi can clearly make out two distinct little dimples at the base of his spine.
Jeongguk just snickers, and their banter has caught the attention of a couple other teammates who have also just torn their eyes away from the cheer squad. Yoongi still frowns.
“Captain’s the one getting distracted?” One of their blockers, Chanyeol, comments with a laugh. His friend, Jongin, pops out his mouth guard, flashing a charming smile at Yoongi before he glances back at the cheer squad.
“And who’s the lucky girl —or, guy — we’re talking about?”
Hyunwoo, their prized tackler, sips at his water bottle and adjusts the pads against his broad shoulders. “We all know who it is. Cap’s had a crush on him since his first day of school, I remember it. Ain’t that right, Cap?”
Yoongi bristles, tightening the straps on his gloves. It isn’t very often that the rest of the team feels cheeky enough to tease him, but once they latch on to something like this, it’s hard to get them to let go. “Well if you all have enough energy to gossip, then you have enough energy for more drills.”
Jeongguk whines, and Chanyeol puts his hands on his hips. “Just fuck him once, geez, you’ve got all this pent up angst and sexual tension and you’re taking it out on us when it could be used for better things.”
“He’s got a better ass than most of those girls. No wonder you’re staring.”
“We all know he’s trying to get your attention, hyung,” Jeongguk speaks up. It’s true; Jimin’s not exactly discreet about his flirting, but then again, he almost never is.
These little shits. “Listen,” Yoongi snaps, drawing himself up and cocking his head to the side in a way that’s usually enough to intimidate whoever happens to be on the other side. “As flattered as I am about your interest in whatever ‘angst’ and ‘sexual tension’ you think I have, if you all don’t shut the fuck up you can go run a mile and then come back and see how much energy you have left to talk shit.”
It’s with grumbling and swearing that the players back off, fixing their gear before taking off to go back to practice to avoid running a mile. They have a big game coming up against their #1 rival, and Yoongi doesn’t want his team getting so confident and slacking off. He wants his last football season to taper off well and not end in a shitshow like last year, before he was team captain. Also, there are rumors going around that there’s going to be college scouts in attendance, so he can’t afford for there to be any fuck ups.
The rest of practice, thankfully, goes smoother. Yoongi focuses on a few key plays that they’ve been weak on in the last couple of games, pointedly ignoring the cheerleaders across the field.
By the time they’re winding down, Yoongi’s shirt is stuck to his back and chest with sweat. The rest of the team doesn’t look much better.
“Alright, alright. Everyone go get cleaned up. We’re done for the day.”
Undoubtedly, everyone wants to shower, and the team files back towards the school to go to the locker rooms, including the cheerleaders. They appear sweaty as well, carrying their multi-color poms in their hands, hair pulled back in braids or a ponytail. There’s a couple male cheerleaders, which of course includes Jimin, whose shorts have ridden up enough for Yoongi to see the curve of his ass.
Fuck.
Yoongi knows he can’t stare, so he shuffles awkwardly away before the cheerleaders can catch up to him, but a chirpy little “Yoongi-hyung!” has his body tensing. Some of the football players glance back at Yoongi and snigger before continuing on, and when Yoongi turns his head, there’s Jimin, jogging just a bit to catch up to Yoongi with an extra water bottle in his hand.
His cheeks are flushed and his blonde hair is shoved off his forehead. There’s the slightest sheen of sweat on his glowing skin. Yoongi glances away and continues walking, pointedly trying to not stare at Jimin’s pouty lips and big round eyes, but Jimin only continues to walk alongside him.
“What, are you ignoring me?” Jimin pouts, goddammit, Yoongi doesn’t even have to fucking look to know he is. “C’mon, hyung, don’t be shy. Here, I brought you water. You looked like you worked hard.”
At this point, it would be really rude to ignore him entirely, so Yoongi allows himself a quick glance over without breaking his stride. “Uh, thanks. You look like you did too.”
Jimin smiles cheekily. “Oh, were you watching me?” At Yoongi’s momentary panicked expression, he laughs. “I’m just kidding. We were both working hard, of course.”
They’ve reached the doors to the school but Jimin doesn’t go in. Instead, he steps to the side, takes the opportunity to bat his eyelashes at Yoongi and smile. His voice drops ever so slightly. “Bye, Yoongi hyung. Drink up~”
He spins on his heel and walks in the opposite direction to go meet up with his cheerleading friends. His hips sway with every step and Yoongi clenches the water bottle in his fist. He’s better than this. In his entire highschool career he’s prided himself on never thirsting after a cheerleader and he isn’t about to start now.
Jimin is sitting in the locker room with the girls, only having entered once they’ve all finished showering. They’re his friends and the girls like him, and he’d prefer to not change in the boy’s locker room, and he sits there on one of the benches with his phone in his hands and his knees drawn up. The girls are drying their hair and re-applying makeup, and he listens in and participates in the gossip that floats around. Mainly they talk about boys, though the particularly nasty girls (that Jimin only pretends to like, he’s not about to stoop so low to their level of petty) snide about other girls in their school.
The two captains, Choa and Momo, sit next to him. Choa is re-applying makeup and Momo is stretching. They don’t talk very loud, but those close to them can listen in.
“So,” Choa begins, popping her lips to test her lip gloss. She’s going out with her boyfriend later. “What was that with the captain, hm?”
Jimin sets his phone down and smiles, turning his head to look at her coyly. “Whatever do you mean?”
Jennie pulls her shirt over her head and ruffles her hair in the mirror. “You can play coy with him, but not with us. We definitely saw that.”
It’s hard to hide his smile now. “Well. . . he was staring at me earlier, so I decided that I should tease him about it. He got shy, as always, but I know how to get under his skin.”
“But not in his pants,” Jennie mumbles, though with a chuckle, and she closes her locker door just as Jimin throws a gum wrapper at her.
“Not yet. I’m almost there.”
“This is a better drama than on tv,” says Momo, which makes Choa snort in agreement.
“You haven’t got all year, Chim, this is the perfect time to do it! Especially at the game this weekend if we’re going through with our plan.”
Jimin sets his feet on the floor and leans back on his hands. “Oh, I’m totally in on it, and I think Hobi is too. He’s more excited than anyone.”
“Ah, if that doesn’t grab the captain’s attention, I don’t know what will. I haven’t seen anyone resist your flirting like Yoongi, he really does have self control.” Jennie closes her locker and slings her bag over her shoulder, smirking. “Can’t imagine what he’s like without it.”
Jimin groans. “God, don’t tempt me, Jennie, you know I get off on that.”
His friends laugh, and Momo ruffles Jimin’s hair good-naturedly. “You’ll snag him as your boyfriend soon, just wait. The game is going to be the icing on the cake! Even Min Yoongi won’t be able to resist you.”
“Mm, let’s hope so.”
“Oh, we know so.”
It’s Friday night and because it’s the senior game, there are a lot of students here. The bleachers are crowded with bystanders supporting both teams, and while the support is welcoming, the players are getting slightly distracted by the crowd. They’re also ahead by ten points, so that’s good, but Yoongi doesn’t want his players to be overconfident. And Yoongi doesn’t want to encourage that sort of behavior as captain.
Really, this game would be going a lot better if the entire cheerleading squad hadn’t showed up wearing skirts. Yoongi prides himself on his ability to remain focused, but that’s really hard to do with Park Jimin shaking his ass in a pleated skirt that’s been rolled up so high it’s barely decent. The black safety shorts cover him, but just barely .
It’s supposed to be funny. Well, the rest of the student body seems highly amused. Especially because Jung Hoseok keeps doing popular girl group dances on the sidelines. But Yoongi can’t be imagining the way that Jimin keeps catching his eye, the flirty winks and the sinful way he bites at his bottom lip before Yoongi musters the self control to look away.
The time outs are agonizing, almost as bad as half-time, where Yoongi has a front row seat to watch the cheerleaders all perform “Touch My Body” and other medley songs by Girl’s Generation and Sistar. Staples for cheerleader music, of course.
Jimin, being one of the best dancers, is near the center, which is surely going to be Yoongi’s downfall. He’s bright and bubbly as always, parading around with that cheerful smile of his, confident and born into his element. He knows how to please the crowd and seems to indulge in their whistling and cheering. The skirt hikes up around his tiny waist to reveal the black safety shorts, his cherry red lips curled into a smile that could charm even the toughest of souls, and Yoongi has a hard time looking away.
It’s a miracle that he manages to get his head back in the game during the second half, but the team works together seamlessly and secures the win.
Everything that happens after is a blur. Yoongi smiles so hard that his cheeks hurt, caught up in between all of his teammates as the rest of the spectators storm the field. It’s tradition for the team to go out and celebrate after every win, but Yoongi finds himself held back by their coach, who directs him to a man in a suit: a college recruiter who was very impressed.
With the man’s card in hand, Yoongi is the last to the locker room. Jeongguk’s walking out with his hair towel-dried and hanging in his face, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Hurry up, hyung! Momo’s parents are out of town so we’re meeting there.”
Yoongi waves him off, secretly pleased to have the normally rambunctious space all to himself. He can’t get his gear off fast enough, leaving it in a pile in front of his locker in favor of getting to the showers quicker. When the steam fills up the tiled room, he steps under the spray, sighing in relief as the water washes away the sweat and grime of the game.
The water gets cold quickly, forcing Yoongi back out into the locker room with a towel around his hips. A sound of the locker room door closing catches his ears and when he looks up from pulling his jeans over his hips, he’s surprised to see Jimin standing there with his own duffle bag on his shoulder, round eyes focused on Yoongi. Jimin is still wearing the entire uniform, and he smiles at Yoongi as he sets his bag down.
“Ah, didn’t think you’d still be here,” Jimin hums, his eyes zeroed in on Yoongi’s bare upper half, his wet black hair. He then focuses on Yoongi’s face. “Will you be going to Momo’s?”
For some reason, Yoongi’s mouth feels dry but he chalks it up to post game adrenaline. “Uh, yea, I guess so. You?”
It’s pretty much a given that Jimin would be there. All the cheerleaders seem to travel in one big pack for the most part. Yoongi’s seen the Snapchat stories and the posts on Instagram.
“Mm, yeah.” Jimin’s unzipping his bag, pulling out what looks to be a spare change of clothes. Something drops from the pile and hits the floor, and as Jimin is bending over to pick it up, he continues to talk, but all the air is knocked out of Yoongi’s lungs. “Just need to change first, then I’ll be heading over, spending the night maybe—”
Jimin is not wearing the black spandex shorts anymore. In fact, at first it doesn’t look like he’s wearing anything, but then he bends over far enough that Yoongi can see the stretch of white fabric between his legs and up over the curve of his ass. Instantly Yoongi looks away, heartbeat thudding so loud in his ears that he’s convinced Jimin can probably hear it. “ Jesus —“
Glancing over his shoulder from picking up the object, Jimin quirks a brow. But there's this look in his eyes, bordering on predatory, and Yoongi can feel his skin under his collar flush.
“Hm? Something wrong?”
Jimin slowly stands back up holding what appears to be a makeup bag, but the skirt is hiked up now, and the curve of his ass peeks through. The two dimples at the base of his spine show too.
But then, in acknowledgement of what he had done on purpose, a sly smirk creeps along on Jimin's pretty face as he sets the bag down on the bench. His blond bangs flip away from his face, eyes twinkling with mischief and desire. Yoongi still can't find the air he needs, especially not when Jimin sets his hands down on the bag to accentuate the curve of his body.
“Or did you see something you like?”
That should be illegal, to stand there in a skirt and white lace panties, like the epitome of every wet dream that Yoongi’s ever had. “No—“ he chokes out, tongue thick and dry inside his mouth, “I just—“
Jimin abandons the bench in favor of slinking towards Yoongi. There’s a playful smile on his lips, a predatory haze in his eyes, the sway of his hips all the more alluring.
“Jimin. . .” Subconsciously, Yoongi shrinks back until he’s pushed against the lockers with a muffled sounding clink . His palms are beginning to sweat. “What are you doing?”
Jimin only advances further until he’s closed in on Yoongi. “I’ve been trying for two years, hyung,” he begins, reaching out to grasp at Yoongi’s hands, settling them over his waist. Yoongi’s fingers are cold against his bare skin and he shivers. “I’ve been shaking my ass for you and flirting with you so you’d notice me. I see how you stare at me, hyung. It’s not fair. You know how many times I’ve thought of you fucking me? A lot.”
Something pulls tight in the pit of Yoongi’s stomach. Jimin’s skin is so, so smooth under his fingertips. “Bet you say that to all the guys,” he scoffs, “right before you sink your teeth into them.”
Jimin’s fingers skim across the waistband of Yoongi’s jeans, knuckles brushing his belt. He glances at Yoongi, his brow slightly pinched before they relax. His lips purse. “You say that like you’re jealous,” he replies, pressing closer against Yoongi, bodies nearly flushed. “What? Upset that you weren’t the first one?”
“It’s not any of my business,” Yoongi says, feels a flush creeping up the side of his neck. “Don’t have anything to be jealous about.”
And he isn’t. Not really.
“Mm, liar.”
Jimin slots one of his legs over Yoongi’s thigh to cage him against the lockers, small fingers tugging Yoongi forward by his belt loops. “Would a blowjob make you feel better?”
“Here?” Yoongi braces himself against the lockers, eyes wide when Jimin sinks to his knees right in front of him. “ Now ? Did Jeongguk put you up to this?”
“Jeongguk? No, I’m sure he’s busy with Taehyung,” Jimin mumbles, resting his weight on the balls of his feet as he slowly drags down the zipper and begins to pull his jeans off his hips. “What? Are you scared someone’s going to walk in on us?”
“You obviously aren’t.”
Everyone knows that Jimin is shameless, or at least, that’s what the rumors say. But the junior really isn’t trying to prove the rumor mill wrong, not when he’s got Yoongi with his pants around his thighs in the middle of the locker room.
It’s clear that Jimin’s excited, his pupils blown wide, hands tugging Yoongi’s pants off until he’s standing against the lockers in his briefs. He bites his bottom lip, rubbing over the front of Yoongi’s briefs, eliciting a groan from the quarterback.
“Everyone’s at Momo’s party already. You know people are fucking there, so what’s wrong with a blowjob here?”
“You planned this,” Yoongi accuses him as the realization dawns. The rational part of his brain says that he should stop this before it gets even more out of hand than it already is, but a much bigger part — namely, his dick— wants him to keep going. It’s been a long year of brushing off Jimin’s advances and pretending not to be enthralled by him just like everyone else in school. “Thought the skirt was a dumb prank but I’m beginning to think that it wasn’t.”
Jimin smiles bravely. “It was a prank, but. . .” He squeezes Yoongi’s dick through the briefs, smirking when it kicks against his palm. “I planned ahead. I knew you’d be scouted tonight, showing up late to the locker room, and I took advantage of that. I wore this because I know you stare at me, think I don’t notice. But I do. ”
It’s really hard to keep a straight face. Yoongi has to keep his bottom lip between his teeth for a long moment so he doesn’t make any sort of embarrassing noises. “ Everyone stares at you,” he protests. But really, why is he still fighting?
“Yeah?” Jimin’s nails scrape against the jut of Yoongi’s hipbone. “That’s because they know I look good, and you know that I look good, irresistible. You’re just as bad as everyone else, hyung.”
It feels like a brand when Jimin presses his mouth to the sensitive, pale skin of Yoongi’s inner thigh. He jerks, but Jimin’s hands press him back against the lockers. Truthfully, if Yoongi’s going to die — which he feels like he is — this isn’t a bad way to go. His breaths come out ragged, transfixed by the way Jimin’s skirt flares out around his thighs, the slow drag of his lips and teeth that send shivers down his spine.
Jimin nips at Yoongi’s thigh, teasing both thighs as his hands dip into the waistband of his briefs. Yoongi stutters over his words when Jimin’s fingers wrap around his cock, other hand forcing his underwear down past his thighs, out of the way. The blonde’s fingers are just short of wrapping all the way around Yoongi, and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips when Yoongi twitches in his hand.
“Oh, you’re big,” Jimin mumbles, but it comes out as more of a pleased sigh, thumb skimming along the underside of Yoongi’s cock to trace the vein. He peers up at Yoongi through hooded eyes.
“You’ll be missing out if I don’t suck your dick.”
With his toes curling into the tile floor, Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Yea?” It doesn’t sound nearly as cocky as he wants it to. “You talk a pretty big game.”
There's this glint in Jimin’s eyes, an acceptance of Yoongi's challenge. “You stand there and look pretty and I'll show you how good my game is.”
Yoongi thumps his head against the lockers and he coils his fingers into fists when Jimin strokes him base to tip, thumb pressing against the head. Jimin places his other hand on Yoongi’s hip to keep him steady. Coyly, Jimin ducks his head, running his tongue along the side of Yoongi’s shaft, keeping a firm grip around the base. When he makes it to the tip, he suckles with his lips, laving wetly over with his tongue. He pulls off with a little 'pop’ and a smile, pleased, pumping Yoongi slowly.
“You think I don't know what I'm doing?”
It’s pretty fucking obvious that Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing. Yoongi has to fight to keep every low noise of pleasure quiet, afraid that he’s going to blow his load in the first thirty seconds. Okay, sue him, he doesn’t really have time to hook up and Jimin is . . . well, Jimin.
“Guess I’m gonna find out if that mouth of yours is as good as everyone says it is.” And maybe that’s an asshole thing to say, especially now, but Jimin just huffs, squeezing his hand that much harder to make Yoongi’s breath catch in his throat.
“You won’t be disappointed,” is Jimin’s confident reply, easing up on the squeeze of his hand, to which Yoongi exhales at. He’s decently hard, precum about to well from the tip as Jimin sucks once more at the sensitive bundle of nerves right near the crown. It has Yoongi’s hips jerking but Jimin’s hand is firm on his hip.
Jimin is in no rush. He swirls his tongue around Yoongi’s dick like a damn lollipop, coating his length in saliva. Each pump of his hand sounds wet and erotic, eyes peeking upward every so often. Yoongi swears under his breath, trying to hold back any noises, but that just becomes more and more difficult when he’s fully hard and Jimin continues to tease, which has Yoongi bordering on impatience. They’re going to get caught if this slow pace continues.
In a moment of frustration, Yoongi reaches down and threads his fingers into Jimin’s hair, right down to the base of his scalp. When he pulls tight, Jimin’s lashes flutter, a breathy noise that sounds a lot like a moan spilling out of his swollen lips as Yoongi forces him off his cock. “We don’t have time for you to be a little shit ,” Yoongi hisses, every hair on the back of his neck sticking up.
“You got somewhere to be?”
Jimin stares up at Yoongi, little strand of saliva connecting his lips to Yoongi’s dick. He’s pushing it, they both know he is, but Jimin moans again when Yoongi tugs him by his hair, harder this time. His cock rubs against Jimin’s cheek, smearing a streak of precum across his skin. “You want someone to find you like this? On your knees for me?”
Instead of waiting for an answer, Yoongi decides to take a gamble by craning Jimin’s head back until it almost looks painful, leaving the boy’s lips parted in a pretty little ‘o.’ From the way his pupils dilate, he likes it.
“Filthy,” Yoongi mutters, shifting to drag the wet head of his dick over the cheerleader’s mouth. “You’re the one that wanted this so bad.”
The moan that Jimin releases is loud and wanton, lips suckling at Yoongi before he draws back. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?” he breathes, fingers wrapping around Yoongi’s cock, pumping him in one long, fluid motion. “The aloof, self-controlled quarterback getting sucked off by the slutty cheerleader and liking it?”
With a scrunch of his nose, Yoongi scoffs. “I think I like you better when your mouth is full.”
A self-satisfied smirk crosses Jimin’s lips. Their argument now settled, Jimin leans in, parting his lips and opening his mouth wide enough to take Yoongi’s cock. He still keeps one hand wrapped around the base as he sinks down, jaw slack, throat relaxing with Yoongi on his tongue. Above him, Yoongi keens and twitches, guiding Jimin with the fist in his hair.
Jimin stops once Yoongi hits the back of his throat. Yoongi’s cock rests heavy on his tongue, throbbing at the wet heat of Jimin’s mouth. Jimin hums once before pulling off and then sliding back down again, peering up through fluttering lashes at the quarterback, plush lips stretched wide around him. The darkness in his eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Yoongi’s gut. He can’t help but buck his hips forward, catching and sliding right into the wet, hot vise of Jimin’s throat.
“Ah, fuck—“
And then, Jimin has the audacity to swallow, moaning softly as he digs his fingers into the muscled flesh of Yoongi’s thighs. Yoongi almost pulls away when Jimin chokes, but the cheerleader holds him in place, pulls him in deeper until Yoongi’s eyes roll back into his head. Tears prick at the corner of Jimin’s eyes, and saliva pools in his mouth and starts to dribble from his chin.
The added saliva makes it easier for Jimin to bob his head at a decent pace, locked in by the fingers knotted in his hair. Out of pleasure or lack of control, Jimin doesn’t hold Yoongi back from bucking his hips into his mouth, just slacks his jaw and takes it. Yoongi isn’t going to last much longer. There’s a clenching in his abdomen, orgasm clawing to the surface, and his hips jerk faster in a more desperate motion than before. Jimin moans and whines around him, pulling off with an erotic ‘pop’ when he knows Yoongi is close.
Cheeks flushed and lips swollen, Jimin licks at his lips and tips his head. He sticks his tongue out just so, catching a drop of precum and swallowing it with a pant.
“C-cum,” he urges, fingers still dug into Yoongi’s thighs. His lips gleam with saliva and precum. “ Please. ”
Yoongi can barely get his fingers around himself, stroking once, twice, before he cums in thick spurts across the cheerleader’s lips and chin. “ F-fuck .”
Jimin looks so fucked out, licks the cum from his lips as Yoongi sags against the lockers, chest heaving up and down. Globs of white cover Jimin’s chin and he licks off what he can, gazing up at Yoongi as he swipes his finger over his mouth and sucks on the digit. He stands up, knees red from being on the hard floor for so long. The skirt is now hiked all the way up on his little waist, accentuating the expanse of his thick thighs. His face is flushed and his hair is messed up in that “just had sex” way.
Yoongi doesn’t know where to look.
“You liked that?” Jimin asks cheekily, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, his chest just pressing against Yoongi, who’s still shaky. “Was I able to impress you?”
“You—“ He tries to find the words, but his brain’s still mushy, floating somewhere outside of his body. “I— Do you need a towel or something?”
The cheerleader smiles. He reaches down, dutifully hiking Yoongi's jeans back around his waist so he's at least somewhat decent. “I’ll be alright. A little cum never hurt anybody.”
“Right,” Yoongi manages to say, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Yea, okay, that was—“
“Good?” Jimin finishes his sentence for him. Yoongi didn't know what he was going to say after that, but yeah, good.
It's quick, but Jimin leans in, pecking Yoongi on the lips. It's not a long kiss at all, just enough for Yoongi to feel the plushness of Jimin's lips and leave him wanting more, if that's even possible. He can faintly taste himself on Jimin's lips and even if his nose wrinkles at it, Jimin actually kissed him, so he shouldn't complain.
There's still a haze to Jimin's eyes as he bats his lashes at Yoongi, chewing at his lower lip. “I'll see you at Momo’s?”
Maybe this is just the Park Jimin effect, because Yoongi feels a little dazed and a lot like he would do anything Jimin asked him to. “Yea. Definitely. Of course.”
“Okay, hyung,” Jimin hums, and it's almost like he's going to kiss Yoongi again, but he slides back and retreats. Yoongi watches dumbly as Jimin picks up his bag and makes for the exit. There's a sway in his hips underneath the tight skirt, and it flutters when he turns around. A flirty grin graces his lips.
“Make sure you come dance with me. I'm not done with you yet.”
Yoongi doesn’t dance, but watching Jimin walk away, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. . . maybe tonight he will.