Work Text:
It’s almost par for the course that places like these will get rowdy once in a while.
It doesn’t matter how much you paid to get in, or how much the place boasts of exclusivity and high-class, when it all comes down to it, it’s got a bar that sells great alcohol. People are bound to get drunk and become unruly on occasion.
Not to mention it’s a Friday afternoon and the cocktails are half-price, so Jimin hadn’t entered the joint expecting anything less, despite all the buzz on social media about this place. The more popular a place gets, the more unsavoury characters it’ll drag in.
It’s why he hadn’t even flinched when the large group of twenty-five to thirty-year-old males wearing polos underneath classic Patagonia vests and ill-fitting blue skinny jeans (in 2026, mind you) clambered in loudly, disturbing the otherwise low-lights and lo-fi vibes of the late afternoon.
They’re speaking in ‘Tech-bro’ as they pass him, one in the centre, Jimin will call him Thad for convenience (and because he looks like one), calls out all smarmy and moderately intolerable, for a round of beers to be brought to their table.
Jimin is a judgmental bitch most of the time; worse after a long day of work, and even worse when he’s sober, so he can tell they’re just the right type of annoying and privileged (after self-proclaimed ‘influencers’, of course) that these trendy hotspots attract most.
In their wake, the scent of Dior Sauvage. Definitely Tech-bros.
Jimin wishes Seokjin were here so he could bet actual money on it.
The older had messaged that he’d been let off work later than expected and would be about an hour late to meeting him. Jimin was already on his way to his place, so the most logical step was obviously to pre-game in preparation for all the juicy corporate gossip Seokjin was sure to lay on him. It was Friday after all, and they hadn’t met up all week.
This place had been the closest to Seokjin’s apartment, and he’s had amazing sake here before. Plus, the bar-front had been blissfully empty when he walked in.
He’d been served quickly by a total cutie bartending and took a seat on the farthest end of the bar, where he’s still sitting a half hour later when Thad strolls up to the bar with a complaint about something he’d ordered.
Jimin’s attention is split between his phone, where he’d been texting Seokjin, the man in an Uber just a few blocks away, and the increasingly acrimonious interaction happening at the bar front between Thad and the absolutely precious cashier with space buns and Hello Kitty hair clips.
Jimin should have left then and caught up to Seokjin at the curb the next street down, but the intrigue is too strong, like he’s sure it is for the other patrons, who, like him, are side-eying the disturbance. Besides, it’ll make for great conversation later.
Jimin knows he’s right when, like out of a bad movie, Thad exclaims,
“Do you even know who I am!?”
Jimin narrowly avoids the snort he lets out from being heard, hiding it behind a well-timed cough.
“My family owns the fucking streets you walk on!”
In hindsight, Jimin will admit that his mistake was walking his glass back to the bar top at that moment. He was being nosy, sue him.
A second bartender appears, and they flank the timid female cashier like two bodyguards as she hurriedly processes the irate Thad’s refund, or whatever it was. Upon seeing Jimin’s approach, Cutie Patootie, who made his drink earlier, smiles at him, ignoring Thad’s tirade altogether to walk over and collect Jimin’s martini glass. As if he couldn’t be bothered by Thad’s incessant whining that was, shockingly, getting progressively louder. It’s kind of hot.
But, they’d made eye contact, him and Thad, during Jimin’s short walk to meet the bartender halfway, and Jimin knew immediately that was the wrong move.
It escalates quickly.
Thad’s beady little eyes flick furiously between the two of them, probably annoyed he no longer has the attention of everyone in the room, before he lets loose two truly heinous slurs in succession, one related to Jimin’s race and the other, his sexuality, which —one, it’s five in the afternoon, fucking chill, and two, put his head on a block, Jimin would have thought only one of those two things was obvious.
Jimin can’t help but peer down questioningly at his outfit. “Is it the scarf?” he wonders aloud.
He looks back up just in time to see Big Buff Bartender (formally known as “Cutie Patootie”) step out from behind the bar and, in one fell swoop, connect his closed fist to Thad’s unsuspecting face.
The bigot is unconscious before he hits the floor.
Jimin’s jaw drops, just as half of the patrons gasp in unison. Behind him, someone breathes out, “Oh my god,” and instead of horrified, it sounds impressed.
The second bartender, shorter, paler, but just as handsome as Sexy GI Joe over here, holy shit, rounds the bar at the same time Thad’s friends get to him, and given the flat, seething gaze the man sends to the cronies, Jimin knows they aren’t going to get the apology they probably think is coming.
Jimin forgot to mention: both of the handsome men behind the bar are Asian, as is the cashier; the bar is Korean-owned. And if Jimin’s gaydar is still in prime condition, and despite the trauma of this entire ordeal, he thinks Thad might have insulted more people than just Jimin with that zinger.
Before the cronies can protest, a few of them trying in vain to rouse Thad back into this realm of existence, second bartender narrows cat-like eyes, vicious in their vitriol, and motions to the cameras positioned above the bar.
He warns, “Those pick up audio too, so if you don’t want your friend to be all over the internet before any of you can call your attorney daddies, you’ll get the fuck out of here, before this guy makes you.”
‘This guy’ being Mr. Macho Mc. Gorgeous, of course, who Jimin is watching with new eyes. He has just the right amount of tattoos and a pair of bright, sparkly eyes, even as he cracks his fucking knuckles at the men. The sound of it is like a dog whistle, and Jimin can almost feel the bad ideas brewing in his subconscious, particularly trigger-happy after three dull weeks of playing perfectly poised and polished corporate doll without a single clubbing session to offset the monotony.
There are about nine of them, Thad’s cronies, and one of him, but in that moment, Jimin has no doubt in his mind that Asian John Cena here could lay them all out.
They can probably sense it as well, because as Thad begins to come to, one of them immediately slaps a hand over his mouth and another two help to drag him out, with the final loser bringing up the rare threatening with all the gumption of a sitcom villain, “You’ll regret this!”
When he can no longer hear them, and with his adrenaline at its peak, Jimin giggles just at the thought of relaying these events to Seokjin.
Then his knight in shining armour turns his attention on him again.
He’s got a ton of piercings in his ears and one encircling really pretty lips, and the forearms he’s got exposed look a lot larger this close. Not to mention how tall he is and the way Jimin can tell by the way the black shirt clings to him that his chest is gigantic.
“I don’t condone violence,” is the first thing WWE World Superstar says, “but that was so out of line.”
His coworker snorts, and Jimin would, too, probably, if that hadn’t been his fourth cocktail of the night and his adrenaline and liquid confidence weren’t at max capacity.
Instead, Jimin looks him right in his stupidly bright, super cute doe eyes, blinks up at him through his lashes, and asks if he wants to fuck.
-
Jimin has a very casual outlook on relationships, but even so, he can admit he’s been on a bit of a losing streak.
His last fling made him pay for the date despite being the one to ask Jimin out because, in his own words, Jimin had the better job.
But he likes going on dates, he’s great at flirting, and he’s always up for something safe and consensual. Sane, not always, no. It isn’t the greatest for long-term relationships, but he rarely feels up to that anyway; it’s rare that someone can match him tit for tat.
Freak for freak, if you will.
So, a quicky with Jungkook—that’s his name, the hot muscle bunny bartender—is just the right amount of casual, and with god as his witness, he’s long overdue.
The man is just his type, and, on account of him punching a man’s lights out for him, totally, one hundred percent deserving of everything Jimin is going to give him.
His friend, Bartender #2, Yoongi, had cackled himself to breathlessness after witnessing Jimin proposition his friend, before introducing them both and agreeing on Jungkook’s behalf.
Jungkook had stuttered and blushed in a way that made Jimin even hungrier for it.
“Oh my god, you didn’t.” Twenty minutes later, he’s sitting on Seokjin’s sofa with a bottle of tequila on the table and Jungkook’s number tucked under it, courtesy of Yoongi.
The text thread that had elicited that reaction from Seokjin reads:
Jimin
look i’m gonna be real with you
i think you’re the sweetest guy i’ve met in a long time
i want to show you a good time if you’ll let me
in fact
i’m not gonna front
i can give you the best night of your life, no questions asked, no weird shit, no strings attached, and no, i’m not playing
“This is why I don’t let you start drinking without me,” Seokjin gripes, less like a reprimand, more like he’s getting retroactive FOMO.
Jimin had sent the message on the walk to Seokjin’s, with Yoongi’s blessing, after Jungkook had only blushed and dismissed Jimin’s offer. As if he were joking.
Park Jimin doesn’t joke about serious shit.
Yoongi, however, reading the writing on the wall, and with a supportive, “You’re totally his type,” and Jungkook’s somehow equally as emboldening, sugary sweet, “Get home safe,” Jimin had thrown caution to the wind, knowing that given the chance to stop him, Seokjin definitely would have, even though he absolutely lives for the aftermath of Jimin’s impulsiveness.
Case in point, Seokjin sits up suddenly, almost spills his drink in his haste to inform Jimin that, “Holy shit, he’s typing!”
Jungkook
Hi
I’m really flattered
You’re very pretty
I just need some time to think about it
Seokjin snorts, “Fair.”
Jimin shrugs, because he had come on a bit strong, but in his defense, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, and Jimin has a good feeling about this one.
Seokjin seems to have his doubts, “Fifty bucks he backs out.”
Jimin smirks, “A hundred he doesn’t.”
Seokjin laughs, kicking his feet, “Deal.”
-
The next day, there’s evidence of Jungkook snooping around his socials.
A tae.bae likes one of his photos, a close-up of his lips, before quickly un-liking. But not before Jimin clicks through to his very open profile and sees Jungkook’s face plastered alongside several of the man’s photos.
The man, gorgeous by the way. Jimin wonders at first if it’s a fling or boyfriend, but the captions say otherwise.
Then, as Jimin goes to click through to another photo, he’s notified that tae.bae’s profile is locked, and he can no longer see his photos.
But Jimin is no coward, he immediately requests to follow him.
He gets a message within two minutes of doing so. It’s tae.bae, and he’s followed Jimin back.
tae.bae
okay that was super bold of you
jiminie
you’re the one liking risqué photos of me
tae.bae
first of all
that was jungkook
Jimin smirks.
tae.bae
second of all, his hand slipped
and thirdly, you’re the one posting risqué photos
jiminie
i was feeling artistic
tae.bae
sure
jiminie
so did he like it?
tae.bae
...
what do you think
Jimin giggles.
It feels like a done deal at this point. It’s clear that Jungkook wants him back. A man who didn’t want his dick wet wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of siccing his best friend on him.
Jimin can respect him having a couple of reservations; again, he can admit he came on a bit strong, but in his defense again, if they’d met at a club and not at Jungkook’s place of work, they probably would have worn each other out that very night.
But Jimin works a boring 9 to 5, and this is the most fun he’s had in weeks, and at this point, it’s the means to an end; he has to have Jungkook at least once.
He just knows it’s big.
tae.bae
i want to meet you
jiminie
i don’t even know you
tae.bae
you don’t know jungkook either but you want to fuck him
jiminie
i believe what i actually said was i want to give him the best night of his life
tae.bae
right
well
i’m his best friend
so i want to meet you to make sure you’re not a serial killer
jiminie
as long as it’s what Jungkook wants
In rapid succession, he receives a follow request from a JK. He quickly accepts, then there’s the ping of another DM.
JK
he’s my best friend
i trust him
Jimin jumps at the opportunity.
jiminie
did you like my pics, jungkookie
tae.bae is quickly added to the chat.
tae.bae
don’t call him that
jiminie
shoot
you guys are in the same place?
JK
yeah
he said we had to debrief lol
jiminie
ok so like proper best friends
that’s really sweet
i promise i’m not going to come in the way of that btw
so when are we meeting tae.bae
tae.bae
its Taehyung
sunday at 10am
the coffee shop on 9th?
jiminie
sounds good
😘
-
Jimin spots Taehyung the second he enters the café. He looks just like his pictures, which is to say, he’s very handsome. Like, leading man in a K-drama sort of handsome.
The café isn’t full—and Jungkook is nowhere to be found, boo—but Jimin observes that the few college-age girls making up the majority of the patrons sneak glances at the handsome man.
As Jimin makes his way towards him, Jimin becomes an object of their prying eyes also, as several pairs of eyes go back and forth between them quizzically.
Jimin takes the seat opposite the other man and tsks, “Why are you avoiding my gaze? I walked straight to you, our eyes literally connected as I walked through the door.”
Taehyung sighs, “I was hoping I was mistaken and you’d walk right past me.”
Jimin’s eyes narrow, leaning forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Taehyung mimics his body language, chest almost touching the table as he whisper-shouts, “Oh, you know what the fuck it means. You’re like, gorgeous, and you look like a fucking fairy-angel in real life, your skin is so smooth. How the hell am I supposed to keep Jungkook away from you?”
Jimin takes the compliments with an amused smile, “So, don’t. He’s a grown man, and he clearly reciprocates.”
From what Jimin can ascertain, from this short meeting thus far and their brief previous interaction, best friend here doesn’t appear to be carrying some sort of torch for the guy; Jimin is usually good at detecting that sort of thing.
Not to mention, he’s good-looking himself, so Jimin thinks if they were going to cross that line, physical attraction would’ve tipped them over that edge ages ago. Whether they’ve explored each other’s bodies platonically, that’s yet to be determined.
“Of course he reciprocates, look at you!” Taehyung scoffs.
“Well, thank you, you’re very beautiful yourself.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrow.
Jimin shrugs, holds up one perfectly manicured hand, “A strictly objective observation.”
Suddenly, Taehyung seems to remember the point of this whole meetup, shaking his head before he states, “We’re getting off topic, so you want to fuck my best friend.”
“I do. And you’re just the best friend, right?”
“I am. He’s unattached.”
Jimin smirks, drops his elbows on the tabletop to lean in dramatically. “Okay, then, full disclosure, and you can pass this message on to him for me, I want to give that man the best night of his life. I don’t want him to have to lift a finger, I’ll suck him fucking dry, and that’s a guarantee.”
Taehyung’s eyes are wide as he breathes in deeply. “Okay,” he sighs, “That’s …hmm, alright then.”
No trace of anger, just pure, unadulterated discomfort. Jimin confirms in that moment that Taehyung isn’t the weird friend with a secret torch.
“That’s all you have to say?”
“I mean, I may have come here today on his behalf, but ultimately, it’ll be Jungkook’s decision. You are a ten,” Taehyung admits, though he seems reluctant to do so, “and you don’t seem to be a heinous witch, but looks can be deceiving. I think what I’d like to know is why.”
Jimin smirks, “Why what?”
Taehyung clears his throat, “Why do you want to fuck him?”
Jimin shakes his head, “No, no, he’s going to be fucking me, but through little to no effort of his own if I have anything to say about it.”
That seems to be the last straw, and Taehyung pushes his seat back, exasperated. “If Jungkook chooses to still go ahead with this after hearing all that, it’ll be his funeral.”
“He’ll die with a smile at least, best friend.”
“I’m recording this entire conversation by the way.”
“That’s totally illegal.”
Taehyung sighs, closes his eyes, looking entirely finished with the conversation. But Jimin has some questions of his own.
“Okay, but why are you being so weird about it? Does he have some weird disease or a really small dick or something?” Jimin laughs at his next train of thought. “Are you trying to protect his innocence?”
Taehyung doesn’t laugh. In fact, he goes still.
Jimin gasps, slapping his palms against the table, “Oh my god, someone like him is a virgin?” Jimin whisper-shouts.
Taehyung rolls his eyes, “No, okay? He’s just …very earnest. I’m not going to ruin his chance to wine and dine a total baddie with a fatty, but I don’t want you to hurt him either.”
Jimin observes him for a few long moments, “You know what, Tae Bae—”
“—It’s Taehyung.”
“I feel like we could have been best friends too in another life, you and I.”
“You totally ignored the last thing I said.”
Jimin huffs, “Listen, I am totally in my no-strings-attached era right now. So I can promise you I won’t string him along, nor will there be any bad vibes. If it’s too much for him and he can’t do something casual, then that’s fine too. I’ll take my offer somewhere else.” He flicks a lock of blond hair off his forehead in mock frustration. “Gosh, it has seriously never been this hard to convince someone to have sex with me.”
Taehyung hums, “I’m sure.”
“Okay, bestie, this was super fun, but I’ve got a full body wax appointment across town in one hour. Tell Jungkookie I’ll text him with the details of our date. You can totally keep in the part about the wax when you play this back for him. Ciao!”
-
Jimin invites Jungkook to his place.
One, because Seokjin’s boyfriend Namjoon lives one floor down, and if things get dicey, he’s the only person Jimin knows who might be able to put up a fight with Jungkook. He’s been super into Pilates lately.
And two, because they both have little delusions about what they’re truly here to do.
Well, Jimin doesn’t.
Jungkook …well, he arrives with a bouquet of flowers—super pretty, very expensive looking—and a box of quality, assorted chocolates, with his hair styled all wavy and hot, wearing a proper shirt and nice pants and smelling like coffee and the forest and smiling with his sexy lip piercing and looking at Jimin like he was just happy to be here.
Needless to say, Jimin has his cock in his mouth before the food even gets there, and he was right. It is big.
Jungkook cums just as his doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of his Uber Eats, groaning so loudly and guttural on the deep upstroke of a thrust into Jimin’s willing and open throat. Jimin swallows, his hands on either of Jungkook’s large pecs for purchase.
While Jungkook recovers, Jimin collects the meals and giggles hoarsely when he returns, “Okay, that was a great appetizer, but how ’bout we eat something?”
The pho is from his favourite restaurant, just a street down, and a perfect energizer meal. Like he said, he’s good at flings, and he knows that it’s light enough not to make his partner sluggish, super hydrating and—
“Delicious,” Jungkook compliments.
Jimin winks.
“You were more game for that than I expected.”
Jungkook chuckles, “What dummy would turn down a blowjob from you?”
He’s never gotten a blowjob from himself, not for lack of trying, but Jimin would have to agree, “True, but what I meant was, you didn’t think it was too much, did you?” he asks, recalling Taehyung’s vague warning from their meeting.
Something interesting happens then. Jungkook blushes scarlet. He hadn’t blushed once when Jimin guided his hand to his head, stroked him to hardness, and asked him to fuck his throat.
He replies with something even more interesting.
“Not even close, hyung.”
Jimin picks up on what’s being hinted at immediately, but not fully grasping exactly how far that pendulum swung. “Okay, stop eating right now and elaborate, please. While I’m still feeling kind.”
Jungkook blushes again and looks away.
“Taehyung didn’t tell you anything?”
Jimin shrugs, “Only something about you being earnest.”
This makes Jungkook laugh, “Well, that’s one way to put it.”
Jimin pouts at all the hidden meanings, even as his dick fattens up again. He pulls Jungkook’s unfinished bowl away from him, to a confused little noise from the other man.
“What do you mean by that?” Jimin questions, even as his body, the horny, sex-deprived part, feeds him impossible scenarios. Then again, he’s rarely wrong about people.
Case in point, Jungkook looks at him, ears red, and replies, “I kind of like it intense.”
Suddenly, it all makes perfect sense and turns him on even more. He’s suddenly super eager to test the limits of that theory, because Jimin would describe himself as intense, also.
“So when you say intense, can you elaborate some more?”
Jungkook does, but with a practical example.
He’s got Jimin’s thighs draped over his forearms, big dick at Jimin’s hole, holding him spread wide and four feet off the ground, ready to tear Jimin a new one.
Jungkook’s strength is unlike anyone else he’s ever slept with. They try positions Jimin has only ever seen in stuff he’s called unrealistic porn, but he should have known. If they had managed to do it in the porn, then it could totally be done.
“You’ve never done porn, have you?” Jimin asks while Jungkook folds him into another position. He’s like a kid with a very flexible, bendy toy and looks at Jimin like he didn’t think this—Jimin—was possible either.
He shakes his head and his hair flops out of his face, reveals his eyes as they roll back in his head when he enters Jimin once again. “I’ve have done nude modelling,” he admits. “It was kind of embarrassing.”
Jimin scoffs, moans and shudders, then harrumphs, “What’s there to be embarrassed about with a body like yours?”
“I guess the proportions were off? They wanted to depict the average male anatomy,” Jungkook blushes once more—Jimin is really beginning to enjoy making him do that—even as he pulls out and slides down on his abdomen to tongue-fuck Jimin’s open asshole. He pulls away for a breather, blush still high on his cheeks, “If you catch my drift.”
Jimin does, instantaneously. Dick too big, his fuzzy, sex-addled brain helpfully supplies.
Jimin scoffs. “Oh no, my lobster is too buttery, my steak is too juicy,” he whines. He looks down because Jungkook has stopped eating his ass to snicker up at him.
“You’re like, kind of amazing.”
Jimin blushes for the first time, then, too. It’s contagious. “You’re not too bad yourself, baby.”
That seems to be the egging Jungkook needs; the man gets him on his back, big palms gripping his calves for dare life, Jimin’s ass lifted off the bed, holding Jimin’s legs straight out in the splits. “Please, call me that again,” Jungkook begs, lining himself up again.
It’s barbaric looking; Jungkook’s red, hard, fat, lube-slick dick next to Jimin’s tight fluttering hole. Jimin has a front row seat to the destruction of his ass, and he couldn’t be happier.
Also, he fucking loves it when a man begs. So, he obliges.
“Fuck me, baby.”
-
“Hey, bestie!”
A pause, as Taehyung must wonder what it means that Jimin is the one talking to him from Jungkook’s phone.
“Don’t call me that,” is what Taehyung decides on.
“So, I think I get what you meant by earnest.”
Another pause, then a cautious, “What happened?”
Jimin giggles, “What happened, silly, is that I think I met my soulmate.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.”
“Where’s Jungkook?”
Jimin switches to speaker phone.
“I’m right here, hyung.” He’s basking, dick finally down for the count, it’s flopped over onto his thigh. Jimin wants to tuck it into bed, tell it what a good job it did. “It was super great. He wasn’t put off by any of it.”
“Wow, okay, that’s um, awesome?”
“Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?” Jimin teases.
“I just fucked my own boyfriend last night.”
“He’s dating Yoongi, the other Bartender,” Jungkook supplies helpfully.
Jimin hums, “I can see it.”
“Please stop seeing it.”
“Okay, bestie, I hope you’re ready to see me around a lot more often,” Jimin tells him and wishes he were on a video call so he could see the face Taehyung makes.
The pause is even longer this time.
“Weren’t you in your no-strings-attached era?”
He did say that, didn’t he?
“In my defense, that was before Jungkook fucked me standing up.”
Taehyung chokes, then sighs. “I should have known this would have happened. You’re like, two sides of the same freaky coin.”
“We can double date!” Jimin suggests, before his brain can stop him.
“Oh, so you’re dating now?”
Beside him, Jungkook smirks. They had a couple of adult conversations after Jungkook edged him for an hour straight, while Jimin was still in the liminal headspace a really good orgasm always put him in, and have agreed that they’re a great match, what they’ve got, like, sexually, is an amazing thing and lastly, that while there wasn’t a label presently and wouldn’t move too fast, they could be something.
Jimin decides to answer with “That is an option we’re exploring, yes.”
“I just sent you a photo, hyung,” Jungkook says proudly.
There was a short five-minute photo session after Jimin rode Jungkook reverse so hard their thighs bruised. The ‘tasteful nudes’ photo session had come after a much-needed chafing cream session, as they waited for the numbing to take effect.
They hear the moment Taehyung opens his chat with Jungkook because he lets out a series of sounds that Jimin can only describe as confused, then reluctantly receptive. Very Kombucha girl meme core.
Then he says what Jimin has been thinking since snapping the sweet candid of Jungkook laughing when Jimin went to lie on his massive peck, and he got a mouthful of Jimin’s bedhead.
“You two look good together.”
Jimin thinks the future of whatever this is looks pretty good when he and Jungkook, after sharing a far too affectionate look for two people who met just a week ago because of a racist, homophobic, Silicon ValleyTM tech-bro, answer at the same time, in the same thoughtful, enamoured cadence,
“Thanks.”