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The cheer of the Mexican crowd was deafening, a wave of sound that vibrated through Jimin's bones as they settled into their seats near the ring.
He'd been looking forward to this show, a little side quest during the tour.
When Yoongi told them about the match, Seokjin, Jungkook and he agreed to go. Not letting the chance pass to watch the local lucha libre scene.
What he hadn't expected was Yoongi emerging from their hotel room wearing a luchador mask.
It covered Yoongi's entire face, a sleek gray-blue with rows of painted teeth curving around the jaw, the gold eye slits that made him look predatory.
The mask was ridiculous. And terrifying. And devastatingly hot.
Of course, the rest of them also wore a mask. It's just that, Jimin thinks, it looks too good on Yoongi.
Luckily, he's enjoying the show right now as they cheer, enough for him to distract his thoughts and to distract him on how Yoongi's thigh is touching his.
Jimin was busy booing to the opponent that he didn't notice that Yoongi leaned in to say something to him, his voice brushed directly against his ear.
"You know, I was actually an owner of a fancafé for professional wrestling during middle school."
Jimin finished his booing first before turning his head to face yoongi and his eyes widened a little.
Fuck, big mistake.
Because their faces were inches apart.
Yoongi's eyes were dark under the arena lights, sharp and heavy as they stared straight into Jimin’s.
He gulped and looked at Yoongi for a few seconds and shook his head, "Of course you are," and turned his head away.
He felt Yoongi's shoulder shake with laughter at what he said and tried to focus on the match again.
At some point of the show, Místico came to greet them, hugging them one by one, annd he ignored how his back side was somehow close to Yoongi's chest when they stood up.
He was now applying his lip balm, the mask had already been removed, as it was getting too hot for his face, when Yoongi leaned again and whispered—
"You know, I was thinking about how hot it would look if I fucked you with this mask on."
Jimin chokes on air when he hears that.
What did Yoongi just say?
He hears Yoongi chuckle and pat his thigh before saying, "I was just joking, Min-ah. No need to get flustered."
Oh, now it's a joke.
He also leaned close to Yoongi and said, "I wouldn't mind that, actually."
He smirked when Yoongi turned to him with dark eyes.
Ha! That's what you get for challenging me, he thinks.
But his triumph was cut short when Yoongi firmly placed his hand on his thigh and squeezed, hard.
Jimin exhaled sharply as Yoongi whispered through his ear, "Careful sweetheart, you're playing a dangerous game here."
Yoongi looked around for a bit, "Well," he trailed off, and his eyes darkened a little as they settled into Jimin again, "if you wanted it that bad, just ask nicely, Min. I might actually do something about it."
Fuck.
Jimin just plays it off with a laugh and tries hard to focus on the game again.
But he can't.
Not when Yoongi just whispered that he might actually do it if Jimin would ask nicely.
Nicely.
More like begging for it.
The rest of the match passed in a blur for Jimin and it was torture.Because Yoongi never moved his hand.
Not fully, anyway.
Sometimes he’d remove it to clap or react to the match, only to place it right back on Jimin’s thigh seconds later like it belonged there.
Meanwhile, Jimin spent the entire time trying not to combust.
And safe to say, by the end of the show, Jimin genuinely thought he might die from sheer frustration.
"That was insane!” Jungkook yelled as they entered the elevator. Seokjin laughed beside him.
“I know right! Did you see how he was thrown to the ground? It was awesome."
Jimin and Yoongi settled at the back of the elevator. He watched as Seokjin and Jungkook talked animatedly while reenacting some of the moves.
Why is the elevator taking too long to go up?
Oh right, Yoongi's hand is on his lower back, his thumb absentmindedly drawing patterns as he chimes in with the conversation of the other two.
And after a while— finally, the elevator stopped on their floor, and he let himself relax when Yoongi removed his hand.
He started walking, quickly following Seokjin and Jungkook through the hall.
He needs to be away from that little devil or else he wouldn't be able to resist any longer.
But alas, the devil seemed to have another plan, eh.
Yoongi catches up to him and then puts his hand into Jimin's back pocket and tugs.
Jimin stumbled backward towards Yoongi and the other man easily caught him, still with his hand in Jimin's back pocket.
“Hyung,” he whispered sharply.
Yoongi only hummed and gave his pocket a small tug again, pulling Jimin closer as they continued walking again behind the others.
“You liked the mask, huh?”
Jimin glared at him.
Yes. “No.”
“No?” Yoongi repeated his answer, clearly amused. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Jimin blushed instantly.
“You’re imagining things.”
Yoongi stopped walking, making Jimin stop too, due to the fact that Yoongi's hand was still in his pocket.
When he turned slightly, Yoongi was already looking at him with that same dark expression from earlier.
“I know you liked what I said earlier, Min,” Yoongi said quietly.
Jimin opened his mouth.
And closed it again.
Because it's pointless to deny it.
Of course, he liked it. Who wouldn't?
Yoongi stepped a little closer.
“Hyung, I—”
Yoongi’s fingers tightened lightly against his pocket.
“You can come to my room later.”
The invitation sounds tempting.
But Jimin knew himself and he knew Yoongi.
If he stepped into that room tonight, things probably wouldn’t stay innocent for very long. Especially after everything that happened at the arena. And mind you, they have a concert tomorrow and the day after that.
Jimin exhaled slowly.
Clear skies, clear your mind, don't say yes, you have priorities and that is Yoong— ugh.
“That sounds inviting, hyung, but you know we can't.”
Yoongi tilted his head slightly. “Why, Min?”
“We have schedules tomorrow,” Jimin muttered weakly. “And if things escalate..”
A slow understanding spread across Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi stared at him for another second, weighing the options, before finally sighing lightly through his nose. Yoongi pulled him closer and placed a kiss on his forehead.
“Okay."
Yoongi then cupped his face and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Invite still stands if you change your mind."
Jimin’s breath hitched at that.
Yoongi’s hand slid away from his pocket slowly before he finally started walking again down the hallway like nothing happened, leaving Jimin standing there frozen.
Because now the only thing running through his head was the image of Yoongi alone in his hotel room.
Waiting.
Back at his room, Jimin paced for almost two hours.
He keeps thinking about Yoongi's offer.
We have concerts. Two more days of shows. We can't be exhausted, distracted, sore—
But the image of that mask wouldn't leave him. Yoongi's broad shoulders. Yoongi's voice through the mask, whispering those against his ear. That hand on his thigh.
Ugh. Yoongi and his irresistible ass.
So, at some time around 1 am, he found himself marching towards Yoongi's door and knocked before he could chicken out.
The door swung open, revealing a smiling Yoongi who stood there in loose sweats and a thin T-shirt, his hair messy like he's been running his hand through it.
Behind him, Jimin immediately spots the mask sitting on the bedside table.
Did Yoongi really predict that Jimin would come to his room later on?
"Couldn't sleep?" Yoongi asked, voice soft and knowing.
"Shut up." Jimin stepped forward, pushed him inside, kicked the door shut.
Yoongi chuckles and raised his hand, "Easy there, kitten."
Jimin rolled his eyes at that and walked towards Yoongi.
They stood in the middle of the room. Jimin's hands found Yoongi's shirt and pulled him hard, mouth crashing against his. He walked them backward until Yoongi's knees hit the edge of the bed, and they tumbled down together.
Jimin straddled him, grinding down, feeling Yoongi's cock harden through two layers of fabric. He bit Yoongi's lower lip and sucked it into his mouth while rolling his hips in a slow rhythm.
"Been thinking about this all night," Jimin breathed against his mouth. "That mask."
"Yeah?" Yoongi's hands slid up his thighs to his lower back and gripped his ass. "Thought about what you'd do?"
"Thought about riding you while you wear it."
Yoongi groaned, fingers digging in. "Fuck, Jimin."
Jimin reached for the hem of Yoongi's shirt and tugged it up. Jimin leaned down, lips brushing Yoongi's collarbone, teeth scraping along the jut of bone before going back up and kissing Yoongi hard again.
The kiss deepened, sloppy and desperate, as Jimin rolled his hips in a steady rhythm against Yoongi's straining cock.
Jimin's breath came faster, broken moans swallowed by Yoongi's mouth as he chased the heat coiling low in his belly.
He rocked harder, faster, the pressure building, building—
Yoongi's hands clamped down on his hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and stopped him mid-motion.
Jimin moaned into the kiss when Yoongi gripped his hips tightly, tried to keep grinding, but Yoongi held him still.
Yoongi groans and pulls away a little, "Damn, baby, slow down."
Jimin just grinds harder and said, "Can't hyung. I want you to wear that mask and fuck me."
"Yes I do, but Jimin—”
Jimin cut Yoongi off with another kiss, rolling his hips again, chasing that building heat. Yoongi groaned into his mouth and broke the kiss, latching his mouth onto Jimin's neck. Jimin tilted his head, giving him more access as he fisted a hand in Yoongi's hair.
"Fuck—" Jimin gasped when Yoongi suddenly thrust up, the friction of their cocks grinding together through the fabric sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through him.
He rocked down harder, matching Yoongi's rhythm, both of them breathing ragged and loud in the quiet room.
Jimin could feel himself getting close, that familiar coil tightening in his gut, and he chased it desperately, grinding faster.
"Fuck Hyung, I'm close."
"Yeah?" he feels Yoongi's smirked at his neck before biting lightly. He feels Yoongi's hands gripped his hips again, but this time he grips it hard to fully stop Jimin from moving his hips.
"Shit," Jimin whined, trying to push through the grip, but Yoongi held him still. "Hyung—"
"Baby, stop listen to me," Yoongi panted against his neck, voice strained.
Jimin stops at that and stares at yoongi in disbelief.
"What?"
Is Yoongi going to cock block him right now?
Yoongi sighed and pulled him closer, brushing away the blonde locks that fell on Jimins face.
He liked how Jimins hair is longer.
Yoongi looked at Jimins eyes again and found him pouting. He chuckles. "What I'm trying to say is, maybe we could do this some other time? We have days rest after this concert."
Jimin stared at him, chest heaving, frustration burning hot and sharp in his throat.
"You're joking"
Yoongi smirked at him and leaned back, the look in his eyes from earlier was also back and— oh.
Oh.
"Are you trying to edge me hyung?" Jimin glared at Yoongi. The latter just smiled at him even wider.
"Are you on edge, Jimin-ah?"
That frustrates Jimin even further.
"Aren't you the one who said to come to your room and now you're not going to fuck me?!"
"I'm saving it, baby," Yoongi reached up and pulled Jimin for a kiss. "Trust me. It'll be worth the wait. Also, you said no earlier."
Jimin scoffed and pushed the man back so he lands on his back now. Yoongi just laughs at that, "Besides, I can't have you limping on stage."
Jimin rolled his eyes and stood up, fixing his appearance before glaring at Yoongi "Fine then. You're gonna regret this, Min Yoongi."
Yoongi laughed, soft and infuriating. "Looking forward to it."
Jimin left without another word, dick aching and mind racing.
If Yoongi thinks he could easily win this, then he's wrong.
Two can play this game.
When Jimin said that he was going to pay for what he did last night, Yoongi only expected Jimin to ignore him.
Looking at Jimin right now, wearing a fucking cowboy hat, Yoongi realizes what he is doing.
And Yoongi is a weak, weak man.
He looked away when he saw Jimin looking in his direction, but through his peripheral vision, he saw him smirk and skip towards the members.
Yoongi acts cool and pretends not to see anything as he enjoys the rest of the concert, but every now and then his eyes would drift back to Jimin to watch.
Jimin, who's interacting with the fans, tipping his cowboy hat that falls in a shadow to half of his face which only emphasizes his plump lips. Rolling his hips as he joins the members' dance to their old songs.
Jimin is such a tease, fuck it.
Yoongi enjoyed the concert too of course, so much that he wants to come back here again. The group are now standing together, preparing for their ending speech after performing their last surprise song.
He hears Jungkook and Jimin asking how to say "just one day" in Mexican, and the next thing he knows is Jimin is walking towards him, smiling and suddenly dancing the first part of the chorus, wiggling his hips jokingly.
But when he stared at Jimin's eyes, there's a dark look in them that contradicts his bright smile.
Jimin is really enjoying this, is he?
Yoongi just turns away laughing and seeing Namjoon shaking his head at their antics.
The rest of the night passed by as they said their goodbyes to their fans.
Yoongi enters the car first as he exits the concert venue, not realizing that Jimin is behind him who's waving goodbye to some of the fans watching from outside and hopping to get into the same car.
The ride back to the hotel was thick with tension. The soft music from the driver's speakers feels almost deafening as Jimin had settled into the seat beside Yoongi, the cowboy hat still perched on his head, casting that same shadow over his face. He didn't look at Yoongi though.
Yoongi watched the city lights blur past the window, his hands resting on his thighs, fingers drumming relentlessly.
Every few seconds, his eyes flicked sideways, tracing the line of Jimin's jaw, the way his lips curved into a barely suppressed smirk.
"Enjoying the view, hyung?" Jimin asked, his voice a teasing lilt in it, not turning his head.
Yoongi's jaw tightened. "Shut up."
Jimin chuckled softly.
He shifted closer, his knee brushing against Yoongi's thigh. "You know," he whispered so the driver wouldn't hear, "you've been staring at me all night."
"I was watching the fans," Yoongi muttered, but his voice cracked on the last syllable.
"Mm. Sure."
Jimin didn't move from his seat as he looked at Yoongi with hooded eyes.
He suddenly felt Jimin's hand coming up to rest on his upper thigh and Yoongi was hyper-aware of how close Jimin's hand was to his crotch, so he held Jimin's hand instead.
He heard Jimin giggle beside him as they settled into silence again, but the atmosphere was still full of tension.
The car pulled up to the hotel. Jimin got out first, as Yoongi followed, trying to keep his cool. The others were waiting for them by the lobby.
"Hyung, you two took forever," Jungkook said, yawning. "Let's just go up."
They all shuffled into the elevator. Namjoon pressed the button for their floor, and the doors slid shut. Jimin stood beside Yoongi, their shoulders brushing. Taehyung and Seokjin was talking to Hoseok about something, while Jungkook leaned against the wall, eyes closed.
Jimin's hand found Yoongi's, their fingers interlacing in the narrow space between their bodies. Yoongi's heart hammered but he kept his face neutral.
"Good concert tonight," Namjoon said, breaking the silence. "The crowd was amazing."
"Yeah," Yoongi managed, his voice tight. Jimin's thumb was tracing lazy circles on his palm now.
The elevator chimed as the doors slid open, and the members began filtering out toward their respective rooms. Yoongi started to follow after them, only for Jimin’s grip to tighten around his hand and pulling him back.
"Hyung," Jimin murmured, his voice low. "Come with me for a second."
Before Yoongi could respond, Jimin was dragging him down the hallway to his own room. Yoongi's pulse raced as Jimin fumbled with his keycard, pushing the door open and pulling him inside.
Then Yoongi's back hit the door as it slammed shut, and Jimin's mouth was on his.
Jimin's hand came up to hold the hat steady on his head to prevent it from falling as he kissed Yoongi hard, moaniing as he opens his mouth to let Yoongi's tongue explore his mouth.
Yoongi's hands found Jimin's waist, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. Jimin's hat brim pressed against Yoongi's forehead as Jimin tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Yoongi moaned into his mouth, and Jimin swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding against Yoongi's.
"You're so fucking unfair," Yoongi gasped against his lips.
"Unfair?" Jimin pulled back just enough to smirk, the hat casted a shadow to his features that made his eyes look darker as they assess Yoongi, "I'm just giving you what you asked for, hyung. You wanted to play, right? We're playing."
He rolled his hips, grinding his hardening cock against Yoongi's. The friction through their jeans was maddening, and Yoongi's head thunked back against the door.
"The hat," Yoongi breathed, eyes raking over Jimin's face, "It really suits you." He kisses Jimin again and pulls away a little, their lips still touching as Yoongi speaks, "Fucking blonde hair, and that hat. You're going to be the death of me, Min"
Jimin put his thigh between Yoongi's and grinds harder, Yoongi moans as his clothes cock rubbed against Jimins thighs. Their mouths crashed together again in a sloppy, desperate kiss. Yoongi slides his hands under Jimin's shirt to grip his waist, Jimin fisting Yoongi's hair and pulling just hard enough to make him hiss. Jimin broke the kiss, panting, his lips swollen and glossy.
"You're so hot when you're desperate," Jimin murmured.
"And you're a little shit," Yoongi shot back, but his hands came up to guide the roll of Jimin's hips against his thigh.
Jimin laughed, "You love it though."
He pressed his thigh more to Yoongi's cock, dragging the friction out, watching Yoongi's face contort with pleasure. Yoongi's eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted puffing out ragged breaths.
He looked down at Yoongi through his lashes, that goddamn smirk playing on his lips.
Who's on edge now, huh?
Without a word, he dropped to his knees, the cowboy hat tipping forward as he settled between Yoongi's legs.
Yoongi's breath hitched. "Jimin—"
"Shh." Jimin's fingers worked Yoongi's belt open with practiced ease. "You've been so good tonight, hyung. Let me take care of you."
Yoongi's head fell back, a groan escaping his throat. "You don't have to—"
"I want to."
Let's see how long you'll last hyung.
He pulled Yoongi's jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, already hard, the tip glistening with a bead of pre-cum. Jimin's breath ghosted over the sensitive skin, making it twitch.
"Look at you," Jimin began stroking Yoongi, "so ready for me."
Yoongi's head fell back against the door, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Jimin, please—"
Jimin kinda likes how Yoongi is begging for him right now.
He leaned in, dragging his tongue from the base to the tip in one long, slow stripe, tasting the salt of Yoongi's skin. Yoongi's hips jerked, a strangled moan ripping from his throat. Jimin smiled against the cockhead, then took it into his mouth, sucking gently, his cheeks hollowing.
"Fuck, baby," Yoongi gasped, his hand finding the back of Jimin's head, fingers threading through the blonde hair beneath the hat. He was careful not to knock it off.
Yoongi couldn't see much what Jimin is doing because of the wide brim of the cowboy hat blocked his view, casting Jimin's face in shadow.
All he could do was feel. Feel the wet heat of Jimin's mouth, the way his tongue curled around the shaft, the soft suction that pulled at his skin. The room was filled with obscene sounds from the wet slurp of Jimin's lips and the ragged hitch of Yoongi's breath.
Jimin worked his mouth down slowly, swallowing him inch by inch until his nose pressed into the coarse hair at Yoongi's base. The hat tipped back slightly as it bumped Yoongi's belly but Jimin didn't stop.
With the hat tipped back a little, Yoongi could now see the lower half of Jimin's face, how his plump lips stretched around Yoongi's cock. The skin of those lips was pulled taut, slick and glistening with saliva, forming a tight, pink ring around the shaft.
Fuck.
The way the hat's brim shadowed Jimin's eyes but left that stretched mouth fully visible made it feel almost surreal. Yoongi's fingers tightened in the blonde hair, pulling slightly.
A low, wrecked groan rumbled from his chest, his thighs trembling as he fought the urge to thrust deeper.
Jimin swallowed around Yoongi's cock. He felt Yoongi's cock twitch on his tongue and hummed with satisfaction, a low, vibrating sound that traveled through Yoongi's cock, up his spine, making his knees weak.
Yoongi's fingers tightened in Jimin's hair, pulling at the roots.
"Fuck, Jimin— don't stop—"
Jimin started bobbing his head, setting a rhythm, languid swallows that dragged the pleasure out. His hand came up to stroke the shaft, slick with saliva, his thumb rubbing circles on the underside of the head where it was most sensitive.
Yoongi's hips began to thrust into his mouth and Jimin let him, adjusting his pace to match.
He settles his hands on Yoongi's thigh as he lets the other man fucked his mouth and took Yoongi deeper throat stretching to accommodate the girth. Saliva dripped down his chin soaking into the collar of his shirt.
Yoongi watched how Jimin's lips stretched around his cock, how the saliva dripped from his lips down to his neck.
It was all he could see.
That wet, glossy lips, the way it reformed with each pull, then spread wide again with each push. The hat's brim bobbed with the motion, but Yoongi's gaze was fixed on those lips.
Jimin can feel Yoongi's thighs trembled where he's gripping them, the smooth flesh of Yoongi's legs turning pink. His hand fisted in Jimin's hair, knuckles white.
A soft whimper escaped him as Jimin took him to the hilt again, the lips compressing against his skin, sealing him in warmth.
"I'm close— fuck. Kepp going," Yoongi groans.
Yoongi's hips stuttered, his head thrown back, a guttural groan rising in his throat.
He's gonna come—
And then Jimin pulled off.
A wet, hollow pop echoed in the room, and a string of saliva connected Jimin's lips to Yoongi's cock, stretching thin before breaking.
Yoongi's eyes snapped open and looked down at Jimin"Wha—"
He watched as Jimin licked his lips slowly. Pre-cum glistened on his lower lip, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. The cowboy hat was tilted on his head, revealing a few strands of damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead.
Jimin stood up and leaned in close. His lips brushed against Yoongi's, not fully kissing him. Yoongi chased the touch, but Jimin pulled back just enough.
He looked straight into Yoongi's eyes and smirked.
"Next time, hyung."
Jimin watched as Yoongi's face went through different emotions all at once.
"Jimin, you can't just—"
"I just did." He winked, straightening his shirt, adjusting the hat. He pushed Yoongi slightly away from the door so he could go out but paused when he's beside the other. He looked at Yoongi again and smiles, holding the tip of the hat and tipping it slightly into a bow.
"I told you, hyung. You're gonna regret whatever you started."
He opened the door and slipped out, closing it softly behind him.
Yoongi stood there, cock still hard and aching. His jeans were around his thighs, his back now pressed against the cold wood of the door as he felt like he's going to collapse from where Jimin has left him.
He let out a shaky breath, and ran a hand through his hair.
"That little shit."
Yoongi realized that he shouldn't have challenged the other to this game of theirs.
The next day, the tension was palpable from the moment they stepped into the venue.
Jimin noticed it. With the way Yoongi's eyes slid away from him during soundcheck, the clipped responses during rehearsal and the deliberate distance kept during group huddles.
Sure, they brushed past each other during choreography, hands touching for a beat before Yoongi pulled away, but outside of the performance, it was like a wall had been built between them.
Jimin's chest tightened with worry.
Did I push too hard?
By the time the main concert ended and they retreated backstage to prepare for the encore, he had made up his mind to talk to Yoongi.
He grabbed the cowboy hat that he's supposed to wear onto the stage later and settled it on his head, the brim casting a shadow over his eyes.
He found Yoongi near the costume rack, adjusting his shirt, his back turned.
"Hyung."
Yoongi froze. His shoulders tensed, but he didn't turn around. "What?"
Jimin stepped closer, his boots clicking on the concrete floor. He reached out and gently grabbed Yoongi's wrist, tugging him into a quieter corner behind a stack of equipment cases.
"Look at me."
Yoongi didn't. His eyes darted everywhere, anywhere but Jimin's face. His cheeks were already flushing a deep shade of red, spreading down his neck.
Jimin's heart ached with a mix of concern and somewhat pleased. But that's not the concern here right now.
He needs to make sure if Yoongi is still okay with this.
"Did I go too far last night? Is that why you're avoiding me?"
Yoongi's jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. Finally, he turned his head, meeting Jimin's eyes for the first time that day.
His looks at the hat perched on top of the younger'd head before looking back to his eyes again. "You didn't go too far," he said, "I'm avoiding you because if I saw you wearing that hat again, I don't think I could stop myself."
The words hit Jimin like a wave of heat.
So Yoongi was affected like that. Then they're still okay.
A slow smirk spread across his lips as he tilted the hat up, letting his eyes lock with Yoongi's. "So you admit it. I got to you."
Yoongi's breath hitched. "Yeah, yeah. You win."
Jimin's smirk widened into a genuine smile, bright and triumphant. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then I get my prize later. Deal?"
Yoongi stared at him in disbelief, then let out a breathy laugh. "Fuck yes. You win."
Jimin giggles and turned around, about to walk away when remembered something. He hums at the thought and turned back to Yoongi whose watching him with intense eyes.
"Oh, and hyung, even though I win, I still want you to do what you said the other day at the wrestling match."
He watched as Yoongi's eyes widen at that, he smiles sweetly at the other and tipped his hat into a bow again and smirked, "I may have win, but the game is still yours, darling."
The rest of the concert was a blur of adrenaline and stolen glances. When they finally returned to the hotel, Jimin's blood was singing with anticipation.
By the time they got back, their staff had already prepared a small celebration in one of the lounges, food and drinks scattered across the tables while the members slowly unwound from the night.
The room stayed lively for a while, filled with tired laughter and conversations overlapping each other, but exhaustion eventually caught up to everyone. One by one, the members and staff started leaving for their respective rooms until the once noisy space gradually quieted down.
Jimin's thigh bounced. His skin felt too tight, too warm. The hat sat beside him.
Finally, Yoongi stood up. "I'm going to my room."
The words were casual, but his voice had a slight rasp— a tell that only Jimin recognized. He didn't look at Jimin as he walked out, but his hand brushed against the doorframe as he left a small gesture.
Jimin waited. Five minutes. Ten. The room slowly emptied, members heading to their respective floors. He heard doors click shut, voices fade, the hotel settling into nighttime quiet.
His phone buzzed.
A single message from Yoongi.
I'm waiting.
Jimin's breath hitched. He grabbed the hat, stood up and walked out into the silent hallway. The carpet muffled his footsteps as he made his way to Yoongi's room, heart pounding against his ribs from excitement and anticipation.
The knock came at exactly 2 AM.
Jimin barely waited for the door to open before he was inside, pushing Yoongi against the wall, mouth finding his.
Two days of tension. Two days of stolen glances and burning need.
"Fuck," Jimin breathed between kisses, "fuck I've been waiting—"
"I know." Yoongi's hands fisted in his hair below the hat, tilted his head back, mouth hot on his throat. "I know."
Jimin's fingers worked at Yoongi's belt, clumsy and desperate. "The mask. Put on the mask."
Yoongi pulled back, eyes searching his face. Then he crossed to the bedside table, picked up the shark mask, and slid it over his head.
The moment those dark eye slits fixed on him, Jimin's breath stopped.
The blue mask covered everything above his neck— no visible hair, no visible expression except those painted gold-lined eyes and that wide, grinning mouth of painted teeth. His eyes gleamed through the slits, dark and hungry, fixed on Jimin.
"You have no idea what that does to me," Jimin whispered.
"Show me."
Jimin crossed the room in three steps, crashing into Yoongi, mouth finding mouth through the mask's fabric. The kiss was strange, the slick barrier of material between their lips, the teeth-shaped grin pressing against him but it only made it hotter. Yoongi's hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him flush, and Jimin could feel the hard length already pressing against his thigh.
"I've been waiting for this all night," Jimin breathed against the mask's mouth. "All fucking night."
"No more waiting."
Jimin's hands slid up Yoongi's chest, fingers curling around the edge of the mask's jawline. The material was smooth, cool. He tugged, and Yoongi tilted his head, allowing Jimin to lift the mask upward just enough to expose his mouth, his chin, the sharp line of his jaw.
Jimin's breath hitched at the sight of that small strip of bare skin, the contrast of flesh against the bright blue mask still covering the rest of his face. He leaned in, pressing his lips directly to Yoongi's, tasting him without barrier.
The hat bumped against Yoongi's forehead, but neither cared. Jimin's hands fisted in Yoongi's shirt, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric.
Yoongi's hands dropped to Jimin's waist, then lower, cupping his ass through his jeans. He squeezed, hard, and Jimin moaned into his mouth. They broke apart, panting. Yoongi's voice came muffled through the mask. "I want to feel you."
Jimin nodded, and fixed the mask so it covers Yoongi's face again.
"Get on the bed," he said and Yoongi obeyed, crawling backward onto the mattress, his cock straining against his own jeans. Jimin followed, climbing over him, the hat's brim casting shadows across his sharp features.
Jimin stripped off his jeans, then knelt between Yoongi’s legs, working open his belt, his zipper. Yoongi’s cock sprang free, thick and slick at the tip, already leaking a pearl of precum. Jimin took it in his hand, stroking slowly, feeling the heat and hardness under his palm. He brought his mouth down, lips stretching around the head, sucking it in.
The hat’s brim brushed against Yoongi’s belly as Jimin swallowed him, tongue tracing the sensitive head, then flattening to lick from base to tip. He swirled his tongue around the head, taking him deeper, throat relaxing to swallow him whole. A wet, obscene sound filled the room as he bobbed his head, each suck coaxing a low groan from above.
“Fuck, Jimin, your mouth feels so good,” Yoongi rasped, his hand gripping the back of Jimin’s neck, guiding the rhythm. “Suck it harder— yeah, just like that. Don’t stop.”
Jimin moaned around his cock, the vibration making Yoongi’s hips twitch. He pulled off with a wet pop, licking a stripe up the shaft. “Not yet. I want to ride you.”
Yoongi let out a frustrated growl. He sat further into the bed, spreading his legs, the mask's fixed grin aimed at Jimin like a dare.
Jimin crawled closer, positioning himself on his knees with his back to Yoongi, ass up, face down. The hat's brim casting shadows over his features.
"Like this," Jimin said, his voice low and thick. "Open me from behind."
Yoongi's breath hitched. His hand reached for the lube on the bedside table, the click of the cap loud in the quiet room. He slicked two fingers generously, then pressed the first against Jimin's entrance, circling the rim.
"You want it slow, baby?" Yoongi's voice was a rough whisper, the mask's painted smile hovering inches from Jimin's stretched hole. "Or do you want me to fuck you open with my fingers until you're ready for my cock?"
Jimin's hips pushed back, trying to take the finger deeper. "Fast," he gasped. "I want to feel it."
Yoongi pushed in, one finger to the last knuckle, and Jimin moaned, his spine arching. Yoongi worked it in and out, adding a second finger, scissoring and stretching.
"Look at you," Yoongi murmured, his free hand gripping Jimin's hip, holding him steady. "So eager. You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you? About my fingers stretching your perfect little hole, making you ready for my cock."
"Yes— ah, fuck, yes—"
"You're so beautiful like this," Yoongi continued, curling his fingers, pressing against that sweet spot inside. "Ass up, waiting for me to fill you. I could finger you for hours, listening to you whimper and beg."
Jimin's hands fisted the sheets. "Please, more— I need more—"
Yoongi added a third finger, the stretch burning sweetly. He thrust them in and out, his palm slapping against Jimin's ass with each push. Jimin cried out, his cock leaking against the mattress.
"That's it," Yoongi growled. "Take it. Take every finger. I want you so loose and wet that when I slide my cock in, you'll feel every inch."
"Yoongi, I'm ready— please—"
"Not yet." Yoongi pumped his fingers faster. "I want to hear you beg more."
"Please, hyung, I need your cock inside me," Jimin whimpered, his voice breaking. "I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you stretch me open. Please— please—"
"That's my good boy." Yoongi withdrew his fingers slowly, savoring the way Jimin's hole clenched around nothing. He slicked his own cock, the sound wet and obscene.
Jimin turned around, shifting on his knees until he faced Yoongi. The hat sat askew, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen. He straddled Yoongi's hips, their bodies close, his hands braced on Yoongi's shoulders.
"Now ride me," Yoongi said, his voice thick. He lined his cock with Jimin's entrance, the tip pressing against the slick ring of muscle. "Take what you need."
Jimin lowered himself, inch by inch, his mouth falling open as Yoongi's cock stretched him wide. He bottomed out, fully seated in Yoongi's lap, and let out a long, shuddering moan.
"Fuck, you're so deep," Jimin breathed.
"That's it. Take all of me. Ride my cock like a good cowboy." Yoongi's hands settled on Jimin's hips, guiding the first slow roll.
Jimin began to ride him, the hat bobbed in time with his thrusts, the brim bouncing, casting shadows across his face. Each thrust pressed Yoongi deeper, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside.
“Oh god, yes— ah, right there, don’t stop, fuck me harder,” Jimin panted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He picked up speed, thighs burning, riding with a desperate rhythm. The slapping sound of skin and the wet squelch of lube filled the air.
Yoongi watched from behind the mask, hands guiding his movement, hips thrusting upward to meet each downward stroke. “You look so fucking hot like this—taking my cock, your little hole gripping me so tight. I’m gonna fill you up, make you cum all over yourself.” He leaned forward, biting Jimin’s earlobe through the hat. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it— I want your cum deep inside me,” Jimin cried out, his strokes becoming erratic, his whole body trembling as he fucked himself on Yoongi’s lap, chasing that blinding release.
He rolled his hips in slow, deep circles, grinding down with every rotation. The mask tilted back as Yoongi groaned, and the sound fueled something primal in Jimin. He picked up the pace, slamming himself down, taking Yoongi deeper.
But it wasn't enough.
It had never been enough, not after two days of wanting, two days of denying. The slow burn of Yoongi's cock inside him felt maddeningly good, but Jimin needed more. He needed to be taken, to be used, to be fucked until he couldn't remember his own name.
He tried to speed up, to find a rhythm that would push him over the edge, but his thighs were already burning from the effort. Each bounce felt weaker than the last, and the coil of pleasure in his gut was just out of reach, taunting him.
"Harder," he gasped, hands gripping Yoongi's shoulders. "Please, harder— fuck me harder, I need more—"
Yoongi's hands came up, gripping his hips, stilling him. "Say that again."
"Please, fuck me harder." Jimin's voice cracked, desperate, wrecked. "I need you to fuck me, please, I can't— ah, I can't do it myself—"
Yoongi's eyes gleamed through the mask. With a grunt, he grabbed Jimin's waist and flipped them over, forcing Jimin onto his hands and knees. The hat tipped precariously but stayed on. Yoongi pulled out, then slammed back in, setting a fast pace. Each thrust drove deep, hitting that spot inside Jimin that made stars burst behind his eyes.
Jimin's arms gave out, and he collapsed onto his elbows, his ass in the air, taking it all. The hat tipped forward, threatening to fall off. Yoongi saw it and growled, reaching out to grab Jimin's forearms, pulling him up against his chest. Jimin's back pressed flush against Yoongi's chest, the mask's fabric brushing against his neck. The hat was now tilted, almost falling, held on by a few strands of hair.
Yoongi's mouth pressed against Jimin's ear, hot and wet. "Is this what you wanted, baby? To be fucked like this?" His hips never stopped, pounding into Jimin's ass. "You like it when I take control?"
"Yes—fuck—yes," Jimin whimpered.
Yoongi's hand slid down Jimin's stomach, wrapping around his cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. "Two days of your little show. Those eyes. That hat." Another deep thrust. "You think I didn't notice? You think I didn't want to bend you over the first night?"
Jimin moan, tears gathering in his eyes with each thrust. "I'm sorry— I'm sorry—"
"Don't be." Yoongi's pace increased. "You got what you wanted."
With a low growl, Yoongi pressed down forcing Jimin's chest into the mattress. Jimin's chest flat against the sheets.
Jimin's moans turned into muffled cries as his face was buried in the mattress, his body pinned by Yoongi's weight, chest pressed closed, every inch of him stretched and filled. He adjusted the angle, his cock still buried deep, and began to pound into Jimin with renewed ferocity.
Each thrust drove Jimin further into the mattress, the friction of the sheets rubbing against his nipples, the pressure unbearable and perfect. Yoongi's breathing was ragged through the mask's painted grin, his hips slapping against Jimin's ass in a wet sounds.
Each stroke hit that spot inside him, the one that made his toes curl and his mouth fall open. He was so close, the pressure building like a tidal wave.
Jimin sobbed, the pleasure building, coiling tight in his gut. "Yoongi— I'm gonna—"
"Come for me," Yoongi grunted, his own rhythm faltering. "Come on my cock."
A few more thrusts, rough and deep, and Jimin shattered. His orgasm tore through him, his body convulsing as he spilled onto the sheets.
Yoongi fucked him through it, pounding into that oversensitive heat, chasing his own release.
With a guttural groan that cut through the mask's muffling, Yoongi buried himself deep and came. Jimin felt the hot pulse of his cum inside him, and the sensation sent a final shudder through his body.
They stayed like that for a long moment, connected, breathing hard. Jimin's hat finally slid off, landing on the pillow. Yoongi pulled out slowly, collapsing beside him. He pulled the mask off, his face flushed, his hair plastered to his forehead. He looked at Jimin, a soft smile on his lips.
"Okay?" Yoongi asked, voice raw.
Jimin laughed breathlessly. "Yeah. More than okay."
Yoongi lay down beside him, pulling him close, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead. "Good."
Jimin nestled into his chest, listening to the steady thump of Yoongi's heart. "Worth the wait?"
"Mhm, super."
Jimin grinned back, breathless. "Told you. You still win."
Yoongi laughed, pulling him into a sweer kiss "I think we both did."
"Though, I didn't know you have a thing for cowboys, hyung."
Yoongi rolled his eyes at him, and pushed himself up, the motion turning into a quick shift of weight until he was hovering over Jimin, knees on either side of Jimin's hips, caging him into the mattress. Jimin's hands came up to rest on Yoongi's chest, fingers splayed over the sweat-slicked skin, his eyes wide and amused.
"I don't have a thing for cowboys," Yoongi said, his voice low, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of Jimin's ear. "But I know someone who has a thing for masks."
Jimin's cheeks flushed, but he didn't look away. His lips parted, a soft scoff escaping him. "Oh, so we're bringing that up for nights with masks?" He throws his arms around Yoongi's neck and pulled him closer. Jimin raised a taunting eyebrow at him and asked, "What about that? You wore it for me."
Yoongi's ears were already burning, but he held his ground, the smirk still on his face. "That was for the wrestling show. You're the one who kept staring."
"I had a good reason." Jimin's hand slid up, fingers tracing the line of Yoongi's jaw. "You looked hot in it. I told you so."
Yoongi couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his mouth. He leaned in, capturing Jimin's lips again. But Jimin wasn't done.
He pretended to think, frowning thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin, "Hmm, let me see, wasn't there someone who said, 'I was thinking about how hot it would look if I fucked you with the mask on'?"
Yoongi's entire face went red from his cheeks, neck, to the tips of his ears. He groaned, dropping his forehead to Jimin's shoulder, letting out a muffled curse into the skin there.
Jimin laughed, bright and musical, his body shaking with it. He hugged Yoongi tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "What's wrong, hyung? Cat got your tongue?"
"Shut up," Yoongi mumbled against his shoulder.
"Never," Jimin chirped back.
Yoongi lifted his head, still flushed, and gave him a mock glare that dissolved almost instantly into a fond smile. "I'm getting something to clean us up."
He pushed himself up, swung his legs off the bed, and started padding toward the bathroom but not before he heard Jimin's tinkling laughter follow him, echoing in the dim hotel room.
Yoongi shook his head, a reluctant grin spreading across his face as he reached for a clean towel.
That little fucking tease.