Chapter Text
“Jesus Christ.”
“Stop—mnh. Stop pushing me.”
“Shut up. Fuck, you’re hot. Shut up.”
“Jungkook—“
“Taehyung—“ Jungkook groans against Taehyung’s lips, fat, swollen things, red from where Jungkook has bitten them. “Take your—God. Just take your pants off.”
“We’re gonna get caught.”
“Good.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Taehyung laughs. Throws his head back, hair brushing the wall he’s pinned to.
“And?”
“Never said I minded.”
Jungkook smirks, says nothing. The glint in his dark, round eyes makes Taehyung’s gut burn, his thighs shake.
“B-but—ah—what about Minho?” Taehyung grunts, when Jungkook shoves his hip against Taehyung’s cock, horizontal and throbbing where it’s stuck behind the zipper of his slacks. His funeral slacks.
“You really wanna bring up my ex’s kid right now?” Jungkook grits out, strong hands on Taehyung’s waist, pulling him forward, flush against his body, grey tie crushed and twisted between them. Taehyung curses that he wore the silk one, the damn thing so easy to wrinkle. Should have stuck with synthetic. A cheap tie for a cheap occasion—Jungkook’s stepfather’s funeral, the guy an asshole when he was breathing, a bad memory when he was dead.
For no other reason than space, the wake had ended up here, Jungkook’s apartment—their apartment—the only one in the city big enough to keep two families that gelled about as well as oil and water at a bearable distance. A safe distance. Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend, his brother (her current husband), their screaming kid, his overbearing mother, his stepfather’s entire bloodline—they were all here. Gold-diggers, con-men, leeches. The worst kind of people, all rubbing shoulders over weak mixed drinks and limp hors d’oeuvres.
Jungkook tonguing his cheek.
Taehyung watching as Jungkook hits his limit. Never good at tempering his emotions, the question shifted from if to when Jungkook was going to blow up. And all the while Taehyung’s thinking, how do you defuse a bomb you wanna watch go off? A bomb you think should.
Incessant talk of heirlooms, ownership, wills had driven Jungkook to the bar they’d been keeping locked, because share their aged Yamazaki with these fools? Hell no.
It only took one glass.
Jungkook grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist, Taehyung mid-way through an answer to another banal question: What’s the name of the Pomeranian clutched to your chest?
Then they’re on the stairs. Then they’re in the bedroom.
“I wish they’d leave.” Jungkook’s breath is hot, the hardness in his pants hotter, Taehyung groaning as their dicks press together.
The ghost of booze on Jungkook’s tongue in Taehyung’s mouth, the way his hands grip, impatient, decisive, makes Taehyung dizzy.
He’s still getting used to this. That Jungkook is his.
That the rings on their fingers mean they’ll always be together. Thick and thin, life and death. Another funeral. Last week it had been Taehyung’s cat. This week it was the sweaty scrote that had yelled faggots from the car while Jungkook and Taehyung exchanged vows. The tree where they’d met. They stood beneath it on the side of the road, nothing exceptional about the location—just a cherry blossom behind the arts centre Taehyung taught at. But it meant something to them. And if Jungkook wasn’t so repulsed by the thought of making physical contact with his mother’s third husband, Taehyung is sure Jungkook would have punched him then and there, right through the window of the red Honda Civic the cunt refused to get out of.
Wonho. Faggot-hater and all-round garbage.
Which brings them to this.
This being the perfect time for Taehyung and Jungkook to show that prick what queer really is. Up the ass, right in front of his ashes.
“Someone’s gonna come for him,” Taehyung grunts. Grinds his hips down on Jungkook’s thigh, so deliciously thick between his legs, Taehyung already close, leaking dick still trapped in his pants. What an embarrassing way to cum but still, it wouldn’t be the first time. He taps the urn set on the carpet with his foot—Wonho’s new home.
“Let ‘em,” Jungkook growls, deep and rough. “Let them see what they’re missing out on. God”—he breathes a shaky breath, palming at Taehyung’s torso through his crisp, white shirt—"God, I love you.”
Taehyung’s shoulders shake when he chuckles, lips on Jungkook’s neck, because this is insane. They can’t do this now. Loud voices drift up through the floor, a discordant choir of nasty mouths, petty claims. “I love you more.”
“Right.”
“It’s true.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Becau—ahh. Fuck, baby. Shit, s-sh-shit.” Breathless, Taehyung stutters as Jungkook’s fingers dip past his waistband, behind his belt. Through his pubic hair, down to the base of his cock.
Nails grazing the skin, sensitive and thin, Jungkook closes the space between them as Taehyung shudders. “What was that, babe? Didn’t quite catch it.”
Taehyung bites his tongue, distracted by the heat of Jungkook’s palm. The way his hand just wraps around his aching cock and holds it, wrist restricted by Taehyung’s pants, which should really be off. “’Cause I met your shit-show of a family,” Taehyung smirks. “And I still said yes.”
Jungkook scoffs. Pulls his hand out of Taehyung’s slacks to flick his chest. “Would have married me if my mother was my sister. Family ain’t no thing.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung laughs low. “Then what are we doing up here, babe?”
“Shut up. Fuck off. Just—" Voice thick with need, Jungkook dips his head, a strand of hair, almost black, falling loose from the fringe he has swept aside. He peers through it. “Take your pants off.”
“You’ve got hands.” Grinning, Taehyung expects a teasing punch to the gut and he tenses, expecting the worst. It doesn’t come. The only thing Jungkook does with his hands is move them to the buckle of Taehyung’s belt, slim silver metal. Nimble fingers working quickly, it’s undone in seconds. Zip down, pants open.
“C’mere.” Jungkook tugs Taehyung forward by the tie, away from the wall. Leads him to the bed like a dog. Switches their positions right before they reach the mattress, so he can push Taehyung down. Then he crawls onto Taehyung’s lap, wriggles until he’s happy. Taehyung lets him.
“I don’t know if I told you,” Taehyung starts to say as he mouths at Jungkook’s throat, gold and extended where he tips his head back, eyes fluttering closed. “But—“
“You wanna grope my ass?”
Taehyung snorts. “Yeah, but—”
“Cuff me to the bed?” Grinding his ass on Taehyung’s groin, Jungkook sighs. Rocks a little harder. Clamps his thighs around Taehyung’s sides when he feels Taehyung’s cock twitch, flush to the heat of his crotch. Wet lips parting, Jungkook’s eyes close as he continues to move, getting lost in the motion.
Taehyung tuts. Inhales.
What he wants to say is that Jungkook looks good. Real handsome in his fitted shirt, his expensive slacks. A stunning specimen. Instead, he slows Jungkook’s hips, a firm hand on his waist, his gorgeous waist, tapered perfection. “Kook, stop.”
Jungkook doesn’t.
Tilting Jungkook’s head down with gentle fingers pressed to his jaw, Taehyung searches Jungkook’s eyes. All he sees is fever. Anger, hurt. Indignation. “Are you—ok?”
“M’good.” Jungkook’s hands move to Taehyung’s tie, begin to fiddle. He squirms in Taehyung’s hold. “Wanna see your body.”
Ignoring him, Taehyung asks, “Good? Really? Kook, you seem on edge. I dunno. I get it—”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Sliding the tail of Taehyung’s tie through the knot Jungkook had made himself, Taehyung never really grasping the know-how—not to do it neatly—Jungkook shakes his head. Throws the tie to the floor when he gets it undone then says quietly, “Just want this. Want you.”
Misplaced feelings, Jungkook’s personal brand of intensity. A Jeon special. Taehyung’s used to it, of course. Knows how and when to put out the flames, but today? He thinks he’ll let Jungkook have this. Take out his frustration. Take it out on Taehyung.
“Are you sure? I can’t quite tell,” Taehyung smirks as he goads, knows Jungkook will bite. He puffs out his chest, a playful move that has Jungkook’s fingers slipping where they’re fumbling, too hurried to work right. “’Cause you doing a real shit job of getting my shirt off.”
“Don’t want it off,” Jungkook snips. Both hands on the cotton that fits so snug to Taehyung’s chest, Jungkook gets a good purchase, rips, buttons flying everywhere. He shrieks with glee. “Just open.”
“Kook, Jesus Christ,” Taehyung gripes, scowling. “You—fuck. What was that for?”
“Who cares? It’s mine anyway,” Jungkook scoffs, clearly satisfied with his own handiwork. “You can’t keep a shirt white to save your life,” he accuses, gaze falling to the place he loves best. Taehyung’s collarbones. That sweet junction where his broad, round shoulders meet the swell of his pecs.
“I’m a painter.”
“You’re a mess.”
Taehyung grins. “Love me anyway.”
“Love your body,” Jungkook murmurs as he leans closer. Trails his index down Taehyung’s chest, a shaky line where his fingers tremble. He moves to thumb at the pink-brown nipple peeking out behind the fabric flapping at Taehyung’s sides. “Look at it.”
Taehyung tilts his chin. Watches while Jungkook paws at the lines of his stomach, circles his navel. Exposed, the cool air from the ceiling fan above tickles Taehyung’s skin, gives him goosebumps. “Looks better when your hands are on it,” Taehyung coos, sweet and low.
Jungkook hums. Shifts his weight. His hands drop to Taehyung’s crotch. “Take these off.” An impatient whine, a soft request. He tugs at Taehyung’s boxers.
“You’re sitting on me.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. Pushes Jungkook off and shuffles backwards on the bed. Sticks his legs up in the air to shuck his slacks off gracelessly. It takes less than a second before Jungkook’s crawling after him, all over him, hot and heavy.
“Better.” Jungkook grins as he rolls his hips against Taehyung’s erection, visible and very hard. Dipping down, he swipes his tongue over Taehyung’s lips. Warm saliva Taehyung knows the taste of, loves the taste of.
Arching up toward Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung opens his mouth. Lets Jungkook lick in, hot tongues sliding together. Taehyung moans, a trapped wanton sound in the back of his throat. “All this talk about clothes, yet you’re still fully dressed.”
“Then do something about it,” Jungkook challenges. Says it straight into Taehyung’s mouth, not pulling back.
He kisses Taehyung harder.
Sliding his hands from where they’re on Jungkook’s back groping at his muscles, Taehyung slips them between their bodies. Manages to make enough space to work at Jungkook’s shirt, his belt. “Baby, sit up.”
Cheeks flushed, lips puffy, Jungkook pushes up his body, hands braced either side of Taehyung’s head. Shirt hanging open, Taehyung can’t help but lean up, scrape his teeth across Jungkook’s chest, his throat. Nuzzle at his neck. Jungkook shivers when Taehyung latches on, sucking hard at the skin just below his jaw, right where his mole is. One star amongst a constellation Taehyung’s mapped out too many times to recall. Groaning, Jungkook manages to grit out, “This isn’t very efficient.”
Taehyung smiles. Pulls back to assess the damage, an angry red mark that’s sure to bruise. “Come on then. Sit up properly. Don’t be difficult.”
Steadying himself on his heels, Jungkook kneels between Taehyung’s legs. Lets Taehyung slide his shirt off, cast it aside. “Pants,” Jungkook prompts.
“Mm-hmm.” Nodding, Taehyung undoes Jungkook’s belt. Pops the clasp on his slacks, the zipper coming down on its own where it strains against Jungkook’s cock. “So hard, baby.” The front of Jungkook’s boxers are soaked through and Taehyung traces the tip of his dick through the fabric. Finds the slit and digs his nail in. Jungkook yelps in surprise, hips bucking forward.
“Tae—just. Ugh.” Jungkook kneels up, hands on Taehyung’s shoulders. Follows Taehyung’s direction as he peels off Jungkook’s pants, lifting each leg and squirming around until his lower half is naked. His wet cock hangs forward, stiff and engorged.
Taehyung groans as he takes in the sight. Mumbles pretty as he reaches out to give Jungkook’s cock a good pump from the base to glans, Jungkook rutting into the sensation. Then he reaches around, large hands on Jungkook’s ass as he lies back down, urging Jungkook forward.
That’s when the scratching starts.
“Fuck.”
“Tannie,” Jungkook says, casually.
“No shit.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t wanna be downstairs. Can you blame him?”
“No.”
Taehyung casts his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “So, what do we do?”
“Just let him in.”
More scratching and a sharp bark.
“Yeontan,” Taehyung hisses, head snapping toward the door, where Yeontan’s now crying quietly.
The scratching gets more urgent.
“He’s gonna fuck up the wood,” Jungkook drawls.
“Fuck the door,” Taehyung spits. “What about my wood?”
“I’m gonna let him in.”
“No. Just—” Taehyung groans, frustrated. “He’ll go away.”
“He won’t.”
“Kook, come on.” Hands on Jungkook’s thighs, Taehyung wiggles his hips. Rolls them upward when his cock slots between Jungkook’s ass cheeks, a perfect fit.
“Yeah,” Jungkook breathes, a small, airy word. He rocks his ass down. “Need you to fuck me so hard.”
Rutting up again, Taehyung grips Jungkook’s wrist. Guides it to his cock. “This what you want?"
“Yeah,” Jungkook says again, head lolling forward as he curls his bony fingers around Taehyung’s throbbing length. A drop of precum wells at the head and drips down the side of the shaft. Jungkook spreads it around. Squeezes again to encourage more because he likes it when Taehyung gets wet for him, only him.
Hips canting up into Jungkook’s grasp, Taehyung stutters, “G-get the lube. C’mon. We gotta make this quick.”
“Says who?”
“Says me. Or it’s not gonna be just Tan outside our door.”
“Whatever,” Jungkook scoffs. “Today I don’t care.”
“Okay. But lube. Get it.”
Jungkook huffs. Leans across the bed to the side drawers. Pushes things around, both of them so goddamn disorganized that even something they use on a daily basis is hard to find.
Then Jungkook stills.
“Tae…”
“Yeah?”
“What’s this?”
“Huh?”
Head tipped to the side, a wide smile across his face, Jungkook lifts what he’s holding.
“Oh. Fuck.”
“Kim Taehyung.”
Defensive, Taehyung stammers. “I-I found it in a box. Stuff from my old place. Hobi. Hobi dropped it off. Shut up.”
“Hobi’s seen this and I haven’t?”
“No—" Flushing red, Taehyung puffs his cheeks out. Looks at the wall. “I forgot it was there.”
“How do you forget about”—Jungkook looks at what’s in his grasp, then back at Taehyung—"a 20-inch double-ended dildo.”
“Is it 20?”
Jungkook grabs one end. Holds it to his forearm, a crude measure of size. “At least.”
Taehyung giggles, embarrassment fading as fast as it had come. “Put it back. Get the lube.”
“Oh, babe,” Jungkook smirks and Taehyung’s stomach drops. “I’m gonna get the lube all right, but this”—he wiggles the dildo by the end, the thick latex shaft bending back and forth like an inflatable tube man—“this stays out.”
“You wanna use that now?” Taehyung balks.
“Yep.”
“No.”
“Yep. You and me.”
“Kook, no way.”
“This is a difficult day for me.”
“Nope.”
“Yes.”
“Jungkook, no.”
“But Taaaeee,” Jungkook whines. Suggestively slides his palm up and down the offensive thing that Taehyung knows feels good. “Please?”
Resolve crumbling because how could he say no to those doe eyes, Taehyung sighs. Mumbles a clipped, “Fuck.”
Jungkook squeals. Grins a dazzling grin, the white of his teeth cutting through the dim, the only light in the room the weak sun that struggles through the half-drawn blinds. “I’ll do the work.”
“Hell, yeah, you will.”
“Fine.” Jungkook bounces excitedly and Taehyung marvels at the moods Jungkook can whip through without batting an eyelid. His heart swells.
But still—Jesus.
This is not at all how Taehyung thought this day was gonna go.
He spreads his legs.
Jungkook scoots back, settles between Taehyung’s calves, a little too smug for the situation. “Gonna do you first. I don’t need much prep. Fucked me pretty well last night.”
Taehyung stifles a groan, cock twitching at the memory. Jungkook riding him in the lounge, couch creaking beneath them. The one Jungkook’s brother is probably sitting on right now, filling his face with free food. Cheap booze. “Go easy on me.”
“Can’t make any promises.” A playful smile tugs at Jungkook’s lips.
Taehyung rolls his eyes. Wills himself to relax but as soon as Jungkook’s finger, slick with lube, grazes his hole, Taehyung tenses up.
“Chill.”
“I’m trying.”
“Just enjoy it.”
“It’s been a while,” Taheyung protests.
“Then it’s about time.”
Taehyung laughs, exasperated. He’s going to regret this, he knows. Regardless, he drops his head back on the pillows. Goes pliant under Jungkook’s touch. An index slips past his rim as soft lips press to his dick, Jungkook’s attempt at coaxing.
“Ngh—ah.” Taheyung exhales. Pushes his ass down, Jungkook’s finger sliding in further, then rolls his hips up to rub his cock against Jungkook’s tongue, thick and warm on his shaft. Licking, suckling. “F-feels good.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook hums. Laves at the beading precum spilling from the head of the dick now between his soft pink lips.
“Mm—yeah, Kookie. So nice.”
Pleased, Jungkook sinks his finger deeper. Uses his other hand to squirt more lube over Taehyung’s hole, puckered and twitching. He smears it around the rim with his thumb, then reaching back, uses those slicked up digits to open himself up at the same time. “F-fuck,” Jungkook inhales sharply, a stifled moan. “This is hot. So, fucking hot.”
When Jungkook speaks, the vibrations against Taehyung’s dick go straight to his balls. He jolts and groans when Jungkook adds a second finger, knuckles catching on his rim as they sink in. “Baby. So nice. So nice. Stick ‘em deeper.”
Mouth full, jaw flexing, the head of Taehyung’s cock now well past his teeth, Jungkook whines. His hips kick forward, and when his neglected cock brushes the inside of Taehyung’s thigh, a desperate noise punches its way up and out of his lungs. Jungkook sucks Taehyung’s well, just like a pro, dick down his throat, ramming into his tonsils.
“That’s right, that’s it. So fucking good.” Reaching out, Taehyung winds his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. Scratches his scalp, gentle encouragement.
Pulling off Taehyung’s cock with a lewd pop, Jungkook surfaces for air. Quietly gasps as he plunges his fingers further into Taehyung’s ass and his own. Taehyung moans, a deep resonant sound that spurs Jungkook on, wrist quickening. “God, your ass is tight.”
“You’re telling me,” Taehyung laughs, breathless. He feels the stretch. It’s not painful but he can’t ignore it and when Jungkook starts to scissor him open, Taehyung feels it even more. But it’s good, really good. So good that Taehyung worries how long he’s going to last. “Kook, hurry up.”
“Don’t be pushy.”
“Just—I’m—ugh.” Taehyung shoves his ass down hard, Jungkook’s thumb hitting his perineum, balls pulling tight. “Three. Kook, do three.”
Jungkook shakes his head, hair bouncing. “Too fast.”
“You wanna fit that thing in my body you gotta do three.”
“Geez. All right.” Jungkook hesitates, but soon enough he’s three fingers deep in Taehyung’s hole.
“Oh god.”
“Good?”
“Fuck, yes.” Taehyung spits. “And to think you hog all this goodness.”
“You love my ass,” Jungkook argues. “Don’t make it sound like you’re getting cheated.”
“Ha—oh. Oh, Jesus.” Rolling his hips now, Taehyung takes what Jungkook gives, Jungkook’s sounds of pleasure making Taehyung feel hotter, because there’s nothing quite as sexy as Jungkook feeling good.
It doesn’t take long before Taehyung’s shaking, Jungkook sweating. “I’m ready,” Taehyung gasps. “Now. Now. Ready now.”
“Snippy,” Jungkook scolds, nips Taehyung’s belly with his teeth, just below his navel.
Taehyung squirms. “You’re the one that’s gonna be disappointed when I cum before you do.”
“But, Tae,” Jungkook teases, slipping his fingers out of both their bodies with a delicious squelch. “I know you won’t.”
“Watch me.”
“No.”
Commanding, Taehyung feels the word like a punch to the gut. Lightheaded, he nods. Doesn’t even know what he’s nodding for. Just wants to be good. Behave.
Not cum.
Then it’s there, the firm, blunt tip of the dildo pressed to his rim. More lube and a little pressure. Taehyung holds his breath.
“Ready?” Jungkook asks low, voice almost a whisper.
“Yeah.” And then it’s pushing in, a slow, smooth glide that stretches his inner walls much more than Jungkook’s fingers had. “Oh. Oh fuck.” He winces at the sting. Chokes out a strangled moan, half-pleasure, half-protest.
Jungkook stills his hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah—just. Yeah. Fuck. Fucking big. Big.”
“You can take it.” Leaning forward, Jungkook brings his face close to Taehyung’s. Looks him in the eye. Says it again, “You can take it.”
Taehyung nods, something about Jungkook today that makes everything all right. Makes him glad he’s alive. Makes him glad he doesn’t watch where he’s going, that fateful day he stormed headlong into Jungkook’s chest in the pouring rain. He feels the muscles in his ass relax and the dildo slides deeper. His teeth clamp down on his lip until he tastes blood.
“Babe, don’t.” Closer now, Jungkook flicks his tongue out. Tentatively licks at the bleeding split, Taehyung’s teeth always doing so much damage.
“Kiss me.” Taehyung mumbles, feeling hot. Feeling full.
Jungkook does.
Giddy, Taehyung doesn’t even register the burn when Jungkook pulls the dildo out, thrusts it back in. He could drown in these kisses.
“I’m gonna do me,” Jungkook murmurs and it takes a moment for Taehyung to catch on, what Jungkook means.
“O-ok,” Taehyung stutters. Oh God. Because fuck this is raunchy. The raunchiest thing they’ve done in a while, tight schedules and hectic workloads not affording time for exploration. Play for the sake of play.
Frowning, Jungkook readjusts himself until he’s straddling Taehyung’s waist. Arm bent back, trying to hold the toy secure, he flexes the end—the one not buried in Taehyung’s ass—until it’s lined up with his hole. “This might not work,” he mumbles in concentration. A lock of hair falls across his eyes and Christ, he’s cute.
Taehyung stares. Wants to give Jungkook puzzles, problem-solving tasks just to see this look of immersion painted with a touch of confusion every single day. Watching Jungkook struggle, he beams. Eventually says, “Here, let me."
Taehyung reaches around, behind Jungkook’s thigh to grip the toy in his hand. The lubed-up latex is tacky and warm. He grimaces.
“Taehyung, c’mon.”
“I’m doing it.” Angling it up from the midpoint, the other end, the one in his ass, slips a little deeper. Taehyung clenches his hole, mouth falling open in a silent O before he collects his composure enough to say, “There. Go now. Now.”
“Ok.” Hands splayed on Taehyung’s belly, Jungkook sinks down, the dildo breaching his rim without any fanfare. No pause or complaint. Jungkook takes the toy into his body until the backs of his thighs sit flush to Taehyung’s legs, stopping him from going further. “Shit. Holy shit. Shit.” A long whine escapes Jungkook’s mouth as he rocks back, sits up, sinks down, circles his waist. “You feel that?”
“Fuck. Hngh—yeah. Shit.” Hips bucking up, Taehyung’s heavy cock slaps against his stomach, precum spurting in a viscous mess all over his torso, and Jungkook’s no better. Abs tightening, eyes squeezed shut, jaw locked as he starts to move, Jungkook sets a tempo, a deliberate rhythm. Taehyung feels it to his core, a burning pool of pleasure that swells and wanes, swells again until he feels electric, blood thrumming through his veins.
“Oh, Tae. This is—ughhhh. This is so hot. You look so hot. How come—mmphh. How come we’ve never done this?” Jungkook babbles. “How come—fuck. I can’t believe you hid this.”
“I told you I forgot.”
“No one forgets something like this.” Glazed eyes snapping open as he tries to regain focus, Jungkook glares. Circles his pelvis, a sweeping gyration, trying to get the toy where he wants it. He blows an irritated puff of air from his pursed lips when it doesn’t work.
“Your dad just died. Not really the time to announce I have a big fake schlong for both our grieving asses tucked away in the top drawer.”
“We’re not grieving,” Jungkook disputes, picking up the pace. He pants as his thighs shake. “We’re glad—and he’s not my dad.”
“Still,” Taehyung huffs out a laugh, a weak breathless sound between words. “Bad timing, you know?”
“There’s no bad time for this,” Jungkook grins, blissed-out, content. In his element.
Until the scratching picks up again.
“Tannie,” Taehyung shouts. “Fuck off.”
It’s loud enough to stop the dog. Stop the voices downstairs.
Jungkook giggles. “Shhhhh. Tae. Someone’s gonna come up.”
“Said you didn’t care.”
“Whatever. You close?”
“Kinda, kinda not.” Taheyung frowns. “Feels good but the angle’s off.” He fidgets on the sheets, tries to get it deeper but Jungkook’s ass, the ever-loving void that can take a fist sucks the dildo like a vacuum, pulling it further out of Taehyung’s ass.
Hips stuttering, Jungkook tenses. “I know what you mean. It’s like—mnh—so deep but hard to control, you know? Good but not good.”
“Visually hot but not hitting the spot—“
“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “Not as good as you can.” Chin down, Jungkook peers up through his lashes, a small coy gesture and Taheyung knows exactly what he wants.
“You wanna—“
“Yes.” Jungkook’s already nodding, fingers moving to Taehyung’s cock. He thumbs at the vein that throbs on the underside and lets out a heavy sigh. “I want more. Need more.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
This is how it’s always been.
Jungkook making Taehyung feel wanted. Taehyung wanting in return. Give and receive. Sacrifice and salvation.
Jungkook kneels up. Slips the dildo out of his ass, pulls it out of Taehyung’s.
“Give a guy some warning,” Taehyung growls. Clenches his butt, the sudden emptiness strange and unpleasant.
“Quit complaining,” Jungkook laughs, slaps Taehyung’s thigh. It jiggles.
“Shut up and sit on my cock.”
“My legs are tired,” Jungkook pouts. “It’s your turn.”
“Jesus.”
“C’mon. Want it all the way, on my hands and knees.”
Taehyung can’t say no.
Already aching, he scrambles up off his back. Shuffles down the bed. Catches their reflections in the mirror of the wardrobe doors. Spies the urn on the carpet. He chuckles.
“What?” Jungkook asks as he gets in position, palms on the mattress, ass in the air.
“Nothin’.”
“Tae.” A mock-serious tone, a few registers lower and deathly monotonous.
Taehyung laughs again. “We’re ridiculous. This is ridiculous.”
Jungkook smiles, a warm, fond thing that makes Taehyung’s chest hurt. They’ve been together for 6 years. Had ups and down, ins and outs, fights and resolutions, set the kitchen on fire (only once) and yet his love was still getting bigger. An expanding thing that changed shades with the seasons. Became richer than wealth.
“Kook, I love you.”
Less heat of the moment, more from the brain. All from the heart.
Peering over his shoulder, Jungkook blushes. “More than I love you, apparently.”
“And—” Taehyung continues, gaze steady because he wants Jungkook to hear this. “Nothing Wonho said matters. That guy was rotten, damaged from the feet up. We’re golden, Kook. You’re golden. He was an envious piece of shit. Unsatisfied with life, you know? Took it out on you—"
“Tae, stop.”
“What?”
“I’m naked with my ass on display. Stop with these feelings or we’re just gonna have to cuddle.”
Taehyung sighs. He should have known better than to expect any other reaction. “It’s really too late for that,” he says with a tinge of sadness. “I’m horny.”
“That’s good."
“For you, you mean?”
“Maybe.” Jungkook wiggles his ass. The pale curve where it meets his thighs so delicious and firm Taehyung wants to bite it.
He grabs the lube and lathers his cock, aching and neglected. Jolts at the sudden stimulation. Someone laughs, right underneath them, a fake guffaw that makes Taehyung cringe. “This is taking too long.”
“So, fuck me.”
“Mouthy,” Taehyung tuts. Settling behind Jungkook, he leans forward, kisses Jungkook’s spine, right on the nape of his neck. Jungkook shivers.
“Tae, c’mon”
The wide head of his cock to Jungkook’s wet hole, still sloppy from the dildo, sends a tingle down Taehyung’s thighs, a flutter through his stomach. He pushes in.
“Yes.” The response is instant, Jungkook collapsing to his elbows.
Taehyung’s hips notch forward, glutes trembling as he steadies the glide, tries to take it slow. Make Jungkook feel this.
“Nghhh—god. So fuckin’ thick, Tae.” Forehead pressed to the sheets, Jungkook tilts his ass down. Taehyung slides in further.
“Baby,” Taehyung breathes. “Fuck you feel good. Always so good.”
Jungkook groans when Taehyung bottoms out, hips flush to his body, big hands around Jungkook’s waist. The radiating heat makes them both dizzy. Jungkook groans louder. Shoves his rear-end back, dripping dick dragging on the sheets already soaked with precum. He snarls, “Come on. Fuck me.”
So Taheyung moves, deep controlled thrusts quickly giving way to something more desperate. More carnal. A feral kind of urgency made worse by the slap of their skin, the smell of sex, the way the sweat runs down them.
“Yes, yes. Tae. Oh—” Jungkook whines and it must be the right kind of frequency to pique Yeontan’s interest because the scratching starts again.
“Jesus,” Taheyung pants, breath ragged. He grips the inside of Jungkook’s thighs and forces his legs open wider, knees sliding with ease because Jungkook can take this. He picks up the pace as Yeontan gets more insistent.
“Harder. Tae, fuck me harder. This is—oh. There. There—yes.” Jungkook is sobbing. The headboard is banging. None of this is very discrete.
“Kook,” Taehyung grunts, hard cock punching into Jungkook’s hole. “You gotta be more quiet.”
“How?” Jungkook gasps, chest collapsing forward, ass pointed up, a lewd display so beautiful to look at.
“I dunno. Just try.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—hnnnn.” Jungkook begins to babble, getting even louder, composure as trashed-out a concept as his shaking body. He keens, a high-pitched moan, when Taehyung pulls out and abruptly flips him.
Then he’s back inside, dick sheathed to the hilt. Taehyung leans down, lips right next to Jungkook’s ear while Jungkook claws at his sides. “Jungkook,” Taehyung hisses, fucking in at a brutal pace. “Shut up.”
Eyes rolling back in his head, Jungkook tries to nod. Shoves a fist into his mouth, panting around his knuckles, brow furrowed in concentration. Taehyung can tell it’s not going to work.
“Try your hardest, baby. Good boy. So fucking good.” Gripping Jungkook’s sides, Taehyung jerks him back so that his ass is raised up on his thighs, already slick with lube. A whole slippery disaster.
“Tae—" Jungkook is drooling down his chin, dick leaking like a faucet all over his clenching abs. “I’m gonna cum. I’m—keep going—mngghh. I—"
“Tannie, go!” Overwhelmed, Taehyung keeps pumping as Yeontan begins to bark, an incessant yelp that makes his head throb, mind already wrecked because this feels so good. Feels amazing. And he’s close, he’s so fucking close. Just a few more thrusts—
“Oh my god, Taehyung, Taehyung, TAEHYUNG!”
A glass drops downstairs, shattering on impact. The room goes silent.
Jungkook’s screams rattle through Taehyung’s skull as he’s painted in cum—Jungkook’s cum—thick white ropes shooting free as Jungkook’s hips jerk. Cries of pleasure fall from his lips, eyes squeezed shut as his muscles spasm.
Taehyung keeps pumping. Chases his release until it hits him like a freight train.
“Fucking hell—” Taehyung falls forward, body smacking into Jungkook’s while he continues to rock, cock pulsing as he unloads into Jungkook’s hole, the sopping muscle clamping down around him, milking him until he’s spent. Chests heaving, they lay there ruined and dripping, cum and sweat coating their skin.
Then there’s a knock at the door.
They both freeze.
“Jungkook?”
His mother.
Oh god, his mother.
They hear a feeble growl, a whispered fuck and a slight berating—probably Yeontan being picked up, the surly ball of fluff not a fan of anyone but Taheyung. Jungkook.
“Are you ok?”
Jesus, she’s not leaving.
Taehyung snickers into Jungkook’s skin as his face goes red.
“Fine. Just—talking with Taehyung,” Jungkook calls out.
Talking, Taehyung mouths. Grinds his hips down once, his flaccid cock still inside Jungkook shifting crudely until it pops right out, a mess of cum dribbling in its wake.
“Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers harshly. “That’s fucking gross.” Then he turns his head to the door. “We’re fine. Be out in a minute.”
Sounding wholly unconvinced, his mother gives a weak ok before adding, “Don’t forget Wohno.”
Wonho.
Faggot-hater and all-round garbage.
They both look at the urn, the silver casing far too nice for the loathsome contents.
“Hope you enjoyed the show,” Jungkook says in its direction. Posthumous communication, a touch of petty and a lot of relief.
Then he turns to Taehyung, still hovering above his face. Jungkook frowns.
“What’s the matter, babe?” Taehyung asks gently, the pad of his thumb soothing a tender line across Jungkook’s cheekbone.
“Nothing,” Jungkook smiles. Then he tilts his head up. Kisses Taehyung smack on the mouth, quick and sweet. Nothing lewd. No tongues, no teeth. “It’s just I'm sure I love you more.”