Archive of Our Own

Every Valentine's Day, one of the most popular students on campus – Kim Seokjin – hosted a party that was now known as Hook Up Night.

Of course, plenty of parties and plenty of hooks up occurred regularly on campus throughout the year but this party had a specific game which led to people randomly hooking up with each other. It was an adaption of the classic Seven Minutes In Heaven game, where those who wanted to join would be given a rubber bracelet with a number written in invisible ink, only visible under a blacklight. Those with a matching number would end up in the large linen closet upstairs, but you wouldn't know who you matched with until you stepped through that door.

Those participating wouldn't know when it was their turn, either. They'd enjoy the party like everyone else, drinking, dancing, chatting, until Seokjin approached them with a grin on his face and a glint in his eyes. He kept track of which numbers were given out, so even though the bracelets were randomly chosen Seokjin had the bracelets and corresponding numbers memorised, so Jimin suspected he took great joy in knowing which students were about to hook up in the closet.

And because it was randomly chosen, if you were joining the game then you did so with an open mind. There were no restrictions on who you were matched with – whether it was someone random, or an ex, someone you were attracted to or someone you didn't find attractive at all, or someone of the opposite sex or someone of the same sex. You couldn't back out. You joined at your own risk.

Or at your own pleasure, as Seokjin liked to say.

There were two rules:

Firstly, the closet was only for making out. If you wanted to continue then you could find somewhere secluded to do it.

Secondly, you couldn't do nothing. At the very least you each needed to walk out with a hickey as proof of something happening between you. If two people mutually decided they didn't want anything sexual, then at a minimum they had to give each other a hickey.

This was Jimin's second year joining the game – at the instance of his best friend, Taehyung, who was also participating. Their other friend, Jeongguk, had also decided to join. Statistically, the chances of Jimin being paired with Jeongguk or Taehyung were low given the amount of people participating, so neither had really given it much thought as they immersed themselves in the atmosphere of the party.

Despite it being on Valentine's Day, there were no Valentine's decorations in sight. There weren't really any decorations at all, other than cheap strobe lights placed sporadically around the house and glow sticks littering shelves and tables like Seokjin had just tossed them around haphazardly. People didn't come for the decorations though; they came for the excitement of random make-out sessions, and the free alcohol of course.

Music blared loudly from the main lounge area which had become the temporary dance floor, but people were sprawled through the hallway, the kitchen, the outdoor deck, anywhere that Seokjin hadn't locked the door to.

Jimin was outside, seated on beanbags with a group of others as they talked and drank, while Jeongguk had returned to the dance floor. Not for the first time, Jimin cast his eyes across the people nearby who wore one of the black rubber bracelets around their wrists. The ultraviolet ink remained invisible out here beneath the warm yellow deck lights, but he knew every one of those bracelets held a number that tied its wearer to someone else in the house.

Someone waiting.

Someone unknown.

His first year playing Hook Up Night had been nerve-wracking enough to make his stomach twist, but it had ended far better than he'd expected because he had been paired with a guy from the theatre department, who had greeted him in the closet with an amused smile and immediately admitted he was mostly there for the thrill of the mystery rather than anything serious. Jimin, who had finally grown comfortable exploring his bisexuality, had been grateful for the guy's easygoing approach to the situation.

The seven minutes had passed surprisingly easily.

Jimin had had his fair share of hook ups since then, with guys and girls, and had even casually dated a guy for a few months before the chemistry evaporated and they mutually broke it off. Jimin certainly wasn't expecting anything significant to come from tonight, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for something significant.

At the very least, this time his stomach wasn't twisting with that same nerve-wracking feeling. There was an anticipatory flutter, sure, but it was laced with excitement rather than anxiousness.

A random hook up was exactly what he needed to get his mind off a certain someone.

So, again, Jimin considered his potential matches. Sitting opposite him was the broad-shouldered guy from his psychology tutorial who'd been openly checking him out all semester. Jimin definitely wouldn't complain about that.

Then there was Minji from Taehyung's art history class – beautiful and intimidating and known for leaving lipstick marks like battle scars. She was sitting next to Taehyung now, throwing back an entire bottle of beer after Taehyung bet she couldn't.

Jimin's eyes flicked to a couple of strangers he vaguely recognised from around campus, too, but it was that moment the glass door to the deck opened and Jimin spied Seokjin. Even in the low light, he looked insufferably pleased with himself. His dark silk shirt hung open at the throat, one sleeve rolled carelessly to his elbow, and his gaze swept over the scattered groups with all the self-satisfaction of a man surveying a masterpiece he'd personally created.

His eyes landed on Jimin.

Then, almost imperceptibly, one corner of his mouth curled. He didn't call attention to himself. Didn't announce anything, he simply tipped his chin toward the doorway and gave the faintest crook of two fingers at his side.

A subtle gesture of Follow me.

Jimin's pulse kicked up.

Around him, the conversation continued uninterrupted, no one else noticing. Seokjin held his gaze for one deliberate second longer before turning and slipping back inside. So, without drawing attention to himself, Jimin stood and slipped through the open door to follow.

The noise of the party swallowed him immediately, bass vibrating through the floor as he trailed Seokjin through the crowded house. Seokjin didn't look back, but there was something almost theatrical in the unhurried way he moved through the sea of bodies, leading Jimin toward the staircase.

Halfway to the stairs, Jimin's eyes instinctively searched the lounge.

And landed on Jeongguk.

He was near the dance floor, one hand wrapped around a drink, his hair damp at the temples from dancing. Jimin wondered if he already had his turn – at least 30 minutes had passed since Jeongguk had returned inside, after all – but the thought of who Jeongguk had been with, and how far he had gone, was shifted to the back of Jimin's mind as he headed upstairs.

"Excited?" Seokjin asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat at Jimin over his shoulder.

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Not as excited as you, it seems. Gonna give me a hint?"

"Absolutely not," said Seokjin, stopping at the linen closet at the top of the landing. "It's all up to fate."

"Even for yourself? You're not tempted to rig the matches so you can kiss a certain arts student?" Jimin asked with a quirk in his brow. Seokjin was participating in the game too, and although there were plenty of people who wouldn't hesitate to hook up with the Kim Seokjin, he knew Seokjin had eyes only for one person – Kim Namjoon, another senior who was one of the smartest students on campus, but also the most oblivious.

Seokjin placed a hand to his chest dramatically. "That would be considered cheating." Then he opened the closet door with a dramatic flourish. "Are you ready?"

Jimin lifted his chin and forced a casual shrug. "As I'll ever be."

Seokjin's grin widened, shark-bright and knowing. "Your destiny awaits."

"You're so embarrassing," Jimin muttered, but he stepped forward anyway.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The closet felt bigger than most campus dorm rooms, a sprawling walk-in space lined with neatly stacked towels, spare blankets, and shelves full of labelled storage baskets. But the usual overhead light was off, leaving the room bathed instead in the soft glow of orange fairy lights draped along the upper shelves. They cast just enough illumination to make out the outlines of everything around him, shadows pooling in the corners and giving the small room an oddly intimate atmosphere.

A tiny folding stool sat tucked against one wall, and beside it on a shelf was the small black torch Seokjin always left inside.

Jimin reached for it immediately.

His fingers curled around the cool metal, and when he flicked it on, violet light spilled across the closet.

For the first time all night, the invisible ink on his bracelet flared into view.

The number glowed sharply against the black rubber.

7.

Given he was only going to be here for 7 minutes after his match arrived, the irony of his number wasn't lost on him.

Then he heard it, the soft scrape of the doorknob turning, and every muscle in Jimin's body locked.

The door opened.

And the person stepped inside. The fairy lights caught on familiar dark hair, broad shoulders, the curve of a mouth Jimin knew as well as his own reflection.

Jeongguk.

"You have got to be shitting me," Jimin uttered.

Across the tiny room, Jeongguk stood frozen too, one hand still resting on the doorknob, his eyes wide as they locked onto Jimin's face.

And then Jeongguk slowly lowered his gaze to the still-glowing torch in Jimin's hand, to the bracelet around Jimin's wrist.

Then to his own.

Understanding dawned in real time, visible in the way his lips parted slightly – but Jimin's first instinct was to believe this a joke, some prank Seokjin was trying to pull before he burst into the closet with laughter, so Jimin grabbed Jeongguk's wrist first and shone the blacklight torch on it.

7.

"Well, fuck," said Jimin in disbelief.

Jeongguk stared down at his glowing bracelet, then back at Jimin.

And, absurdly, he started laughing. It was soft at first, a disbelieving huff through his nose, but it quickly grew into something fuller, brighter, the kind of helpless laughter that escaped when reality became too ridiculous to process properly.

Jimin let out a startled laugh of his own, and for a few moments the tension dissolved into shared amusement, both of them standing there in the glow of fairy lights and blacklight residue, laughing over the absurdity of somehow ending up here together.

It felt almost normal.

Almost easy.

Then the laughter began to fade, and silence settled back into the small space. It was the kind of silence that made Jimin suddenly, painfully aware of how little room there was between them.

His eyes darted to the closed door.

Seven minutes.

The rule.

At minimum, they had to walk out with hickeys.

The thought landed with a strange, heavy thud in his stomach. Across from him, Jeongguk seemed to come to the exact same realisation. The smile on his face faltered, his shoulders stiffening almost imperceptibly.

"So."

"Yeah," Jimin said weakly.

Another beat of silence.

Then Jeongguk rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down before looking up again with an awkward half-smile. "I mean..." He shifted his weight. "It doesn't have to be weird."

Jimin blinked.

"It's not like we've never..." He trailed off, then gave a small, helpless gesture between them. "You know."

And immediately, Jimin knew exactly what he meant because the memory surfaced with humiliating clarity; a party near the end of last year, too much soju, and a cramped off-campus apartment where some girl Jeongguk had been flirting with all night pulled both of them into a bedroom because she thought their whole best-friend dynamic was ridiculously hot.

Jimin had been far too drunk to fully process what was happening in the moment, only fragments remaining sharp enough to revisit later – the press of tangled limbs, Jeongguk's breath warm against his throat, hands brushing skin in ways that had felt accidental until they hadn't.

Nothing had gone especially far between them.

The girl had monopolised most of their attention, and whatever had happened had been blurred by alcohol and nervous laughter and the strange surrealness of the whole thing.

Neither of them had really talked about it afterwards, both quietly filing it away under things best left unexamined.

But Jimin had thought about it… a few times.

Or, a lot.

Too much.

His face burned, and Jimin thanked the universe that the fairy lights were dim enough to keep his flushed cheeks concealed.

Jeongguk gave a nervous laugh. "I mean, we've already crossed the weird friendship boundary at least once."

"That's one way to phrase it."

A smile tugged at Jeongguk's mouth, though his eyes stayed fixed on Jimin's face. Careful, searching.

"This doesn't have to be a big thing," Jimin agreed, convincing himself slowly. "It's just a hickey."

"Just a hickey," said Jeongguk. There was a nervous bob to his throat as he swallowed, betraying the nonchalance in his voice, but Jimin was kind of relieved that Jeongguk felt a little nervousness as well.

Jeongguk took off his jacket then, which made sense. His bomber jacket had a high collar, and if Jimin was to leave a hickey without wrestling the material out of the way it needed to be removed. Under the jacket, Jeongguk wore a plain white tank top that hugged his torso, and the warm lighting in the closet only seemed to define the muscles underneath. Jimin had no jacket to remove, his neck and collar on display courtesy of the crew-neck long sleeve shirt he wore in black, which he also thought fitted to his own torso nicely, earning a few appreciative glances from others at the party when he walked in. His blonde hair was mostly out of the way, though he had only tied half of it up, leaving the rest to brush his nape.

But Jimin's gaze focused on Jeongguk again, on the slope of his neck that was now bared to him.

Jeongguk's throat cleared before he said, "Do you want me to go first or—"

"I'll go," Jimin interjected.

Maybe a bit too quickly.

Or did he sound too enthusiastic?

Shit.

He looked up at Jeongguk, shrugging. "To get it over and done with," he said casually.

Jeongguk gave a small nod, then Jimin stepped forward. The already limited space between them disappeared entirely, and the shift was enough to make Jeongguk instinctively straighten. He was close enough now that Jimin could feel the heat radiating from him, could catch the clean scent of his soap beneath the faint trace of cologne and whatever he'd been drinking downstairs.

This was fine.

Totally fine.

Jimin had done this before.

He'd left hickeys on people at parties, in dimly lit bedrooms, in the backseat of cars. It wasn't exactly an advanced skill, but if there was one thing he knew with complete confidence, it was that he was good at it. He knew exactly how much pressure to use, how long to linger.

This was just that.

Just another hickey.

On Jeongguk.

His best friend.

The thought nearly made him choke.

Jimin forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose.

Don't overthink it.

He lifted his hands, resting them lightly on Jeongguk's waist to steady himself, and the contact made Jeongguk suck in a quiet breath. Jimin felt it, the subtle expansion beneath his palms, the brief tension that rippled through his body.

"Relax," Jimin murmured, before he could think twice. Though, he didn't know whether he was saying it to Jeongguk or to himself.

Jeongguk let out a soft, shaky laugh.

Tilting his head, Jimin let his gaze trace the line of Jeongguk's throat, searching for the best spot. The side, just above the collarbone. Easy to reach. Easy to hide if needed.

Before he could think himself out of it, he leaned in. His lips brushed Jeongguk's neck first, barely there, a featherlight touch that sent a jolt through Jimin far stronger than it had any right to.

And Jeongguk went still. Completely, startlingly still.

Reminding himself that this was nothing, that this was practical, that he knew exactly what he was doing, Jimin pressed his lips more firmly to the warm skin of Jeongguk's throat. The contact was soft at first, deliberate – testing. Then he parted his lips and began to work, slow and measured, drawing the skin gently between them. Jimin could taste a faint saltiness, probably from the sweat that had cooled after Jeongguk's stint on the dance floor, but the taste wasn't unpleasant.

It actually made Jimin a little dizzy, and a little more eager. His tongue licked before he could stop it, tracing a strip up Jeongguk's neck before his lips closed back over the skin, and he heard a quiet sound from Jeongguk, half a breath and half a startled reaction.

It went straight through Jimin, and heat rushed up the back of his neck. He focused harder, determined to finish quickly and cleanly, but the warmth of Jeongguk's skin, the way his pulse fluttered wildly beneath Jimin's mouth, the tiny involuntary shifts of his body every time Jimin lingered. It all made concentration far more difficult than it should have been.

Jimin's fingers twisted in the hem of Jeongguk's shirt and his knuckles brushed against skin, the material lifting, and he didn't realise how close their bodies were pressing together until his mind snagged on the sensation of pressure at his crotch.

Oh.

He was getting hard.

And so was Jeongguk.

Jimin pulled away, blinking back into reality. Even in the low fairy-light glow, he could already see the darkening bloom beginning to form against Jeongguk's skin.

He looked up the short distance that separated them in height, about to say something funny to keep at bay any awkwardness, but the words died in his throat when he saw the way Jeongguk was looking at him. His dark eyes had gone heavy-lidded, fixed on Jimin's face with an intensity that made Jimin's stomach drop somewhere to his feet.

"Y– your turn," Jimin uttered.

A little bit of clarity sparked through Jeongguk's expression and he nodded, like he'd been pulled abruptly back into the room. Then he moved closer, and Jimin expected Jeongguk to reach for his shoulder, maybe awkwardly move some of Jimin's hair aside so he could get this over with as quickly as possible.

Instead, Jeongguk's palm came up to cup his jaw.

The contact stole the breath straight from Jimin's lungs.

Jeongguk's hand was warm, broad against the side of Jimin's face, his thumb settling just beneath his cheekbone. It was such an unexpectedly careful touch that Jimin's entire body went still. Except for his pulse, which thundered so intensely under his skin he thought Jeongguk would be able to hear it.

A thumb brushed once over Jimin's cheek.

Then Jeongguk tilted Jimin's head slightly to the side. The movement bared the line of his throat, and Jeongguk was close enough that a soft exhale of breath skimmed over Jimin's waiting neck, making him shiver.

He felt Jeongguk notice. Felt Jeongguk pause, for just a second, as if assessing the reaction, then his lips pressed more firmly to Jimin's throat. The slow pull of suction made his breath hitch, and instinctively his hands came up, catching lightly against Jeongguk's chest for balance.

And Jeongguk exhaled against his skin at the contact.

The sensation sent another shiver through Jimin.

Jeongguk wasn't rushing, and that was what made it unbearable. He took his time, mouth moving with slow, deliberate pressure that felt almost exploratory, and every second stretched the tension tighter between them. Jimin's head tipped back further before he could stop himself.

His eyes fluttered shut.

And when Jeongguk shifted slightly, his lips dragging just enough to find a more sensitive spot lower on Jimin's throat, a tiny involuntary sound slipped free.

Had his neck always been this sensitive? Jimin couldn't remember feeling this overwhelmed simply from lips on his neck, like his head was spinning with intoxication, the closet blurring around him.

Then, slowly, almost cautiously, Jeongguk began to move upward.

His lips traced a path along the side of Jimin's throat, no longer focused on leaving a mark but lingering in soft, deliberate presses that felt impossibly intimate, but at the same time his hand moved further back from Jimin's face, into his hair and catching on the long strands. The slight tightening of Jeongguk's grip made Jimin's stomach flip, arousal zapping straight into his cock.

As Jeongguk's mouth moved higher, past the sensitive line beneath his ear and brushing his pulse point again before drifting toward the edge of his jaw, Jimin's breathing turned uneven.

This didn't feel like it was about the game anymore, because there was no practical reason for this. No need for Jeongguk to be taking his time, for his mouth to ghost over Jimin's skin in these maddeningly soft passes, and yet neither of them stopped.

Jeongguk's lips brushed the corner of Jimin's jaw.

Then his cheek.

Then lingered only a breath away from the corner of his mouth.

Jimin's eyes opened, and Jeongguk was right there – so close that their noses nearly brushed.

The fairy lights caught in his dark eyes, making them glow amber at the edges, and his expression was unreadable in the soft half-light, except for the unmistakable tension there, the question hanging between them.

Jimin's pulse hammered.

This was the moment to laugh, to pull back, to make some joke about Seokjin's stupid closet and defuse whatever this had become.

But he didn't.

Jeongguk didn't.

Oh fuck, Jimin thought – right before Jeongguk closed the distance.

Jimin nearly lost his balance the moment Jeongguk crashed his lips into Jimin's because it wasn't soft, or hesitant – it was like the breaking of a floodgate, and the torrent that followed was nothing but hunger. Desperation. Jeongguk pressed Jimin back into the shelves, jostling some of the piles of folded linen, but steadied Jimin at the same time with a hand on his lower back, their bodies held so closely together there was no denying how turned on they both were.

Despite having no fucking idea what was happening, Jimin couldn't stop himself from enjoying it. He felt Jeongguk's hand tug tighter on his hair and it sent a pleasurable shiver right through his body, buckling his knees slightly, and even though Jeongguk initiated the kiss it was Jimin who deepened it, parting their mouths to lick past Jeongguk's lips.

Jimin couldn't believe how good kissing Jeongguk felt, how good he tasted, and even when he had wondered about it during that drunk threesome his mind hadn't fathomed that the reality of it could be so good.

It was overwhelming in the best and worst possible way.

Too much and not enough all at once.

Jeongguk made a low, startled sound against his mouth the moment Jimin deepened the kiss, like he'd been caught off guard by Jimin pushing back instead of pulling away. But then his grip in Jimin's hair tightened again, firmer this time, and he kissed him back with an intensity that made Jimin's head spin. His mouth moved over Jimin's with a confidence that stole every coherent thought from Jimin's head. Each slow drag of his lips, each sharper press that had Jimin parting for him without thought, sent another wave of heat crashing through him.

Jimin was dimly aware of himself making small breathless noises into the kiss, of Jeongguk swallowing each one like he wanted more. And maybe he did.

Because every time Jimin chased him, every time he tilted his head to deepen it further, Jeongguk met him there with equal force.

Like he'd been waiting for permission.

Like he'd wanted this.

The thought hit Jimin with dizzying clarity and only made him kiss harder.

And then a loud knock rattled the door.

The sound hit like ice water. Both of them jerked apart so fast Jimin nearly lost his balance for real.

"Time's up, lovebirds!" Seokjin's voice rang brightly through the wood, far too cheerful. "Your seven minutes are officially over."

Silence crashed down.

Jimin stood frozen, chest heaving, lips tingling, his entire body still buzzing with the ghost of Jeongguk's touch, and across from him Jeongguk looked just as wrecked. His lips kiss-swollen, and the dark mark Jimin had left on his neck stood out vividly against flushed skin.

"Annnnd I'm opening the door now," Seokjin declared, right before the handle turned.

Jeongguk reacted by reaching down to snatch up his jacket and Jimin abruptly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, as if that might erase the evidence. Seokjin appeared a moment later, the open door bringing back the volume of the party beyond the linen closet.

There was nothing but pure amusement on Seokjin's face as he looked at them, yet it wasn't the type of smug amusement Jimin would have expected had he set this up deliberately.

"Nothing like a good hickey to bond two besties," Seokjin remarked. "Now let me see."

His eyes honed in on Jimin's neck and then he grabbed Jimin by the hand to pull him closer. Jimin rolled his eyes, but let Seokjin inspect his neck anyway.

"Interesting…" Seokjin murmured, like some fortune teller reading palm lines. Then he looked up, flicking his gaze to Jimin's mouth with curiosity.

Panic jolting him through, Jimin shoved Seokjin away. "All right, that's enough."

He escaped to the doorway but glanced back to see Seokjin now peering at the hickey on Jeongguk's neck, and as he did Jimin's eyes caught briefly on Jeongguk's.

"Oh, well, someone was enthusiastic," Seokjin quipped, tossing a grin back at Jimin over his shoulder.

Jimin snorted, playing at indifference. "No, I'm just very good at giving hickeys. Can we go now?"

Seokjin's grin only widened. "Mm. Sure."

There was something deeply suspicious in the way he said it, but Jimin didn't linger long enough to analyse it. He was down the stairs before either Seokjin or Jeongguk could say another word, the bass from the party growing louder with every step until it swallowed the frantic noise in his head.

The moment he hit the main floor, he made a beeline for the kitchen – he needed a drink.

Preferably something strong enough to either erase the last seven minutes entirely or force his brain to process them in some coherent way.

The kitchen was crowded, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder around the island and counter tops, but Jimin slipped through determinedly until he reached the drinks table. He grabbed the nearest bottle – vodka, perfect – and splashed a generous amount into a plastic cup before topping it off with whatever mixer was closest. He didn't even check what it was.

The first sip burned all the way down.

He braced both hands against the counter and exhaled slowly, trying to steady the wild thrum of his pulse. What the hell had just happened? His mind replayed it in flashes, unhelpfully vivid.

Jeongguk's hand cradling his face.

The slow trail of his mouth along Jimin's neck.

The way he'd looked at him right before kissing him.

And then the kiss itself.

God.

Jimin squeezed his eyes shut.

Had he imagined kissing Jeongguk? Of course. Ever since he had settled into his bisexuality he had imagined kissing quite a few of his male friends, but that had been nothing more than platonic curiosity. It wasn't until that threesome with Jeongguk that his thoughts had turned a lot less platonic, but acting on those thoughts had been out of the question if only to avoid ruining their friendship.

He and Jeongguk had met in their first year at college, only to learn that their lives had been eerily close to entwining ever since they were kids because they had both grown up in Busan, in nearby neighbourhoods, but had somehow never crossed paths. Now, Jimin couldn't imagine his life without Jeongguk.

But… the risk of ruining the friendship had been on the assumption Jeongguk didn't share the same attraction that Jimin did. Jeongguk hadn't really put a label on his own sexuality, though he had been with both guys and girls, but to him gender wasn't really a factor when he decided he was attracted to someone. It was why they hadn't shied away from the threesome – though, the alcohol helped – and the only reason they hadn't been intimate with each other that night was simply so they didn't cause any awkwardness between them afterwards.

But tonight… Jeongguk had initiated that kiss. Jeongguk had wanted that kiss.

And fuck, it was so good.

It was almost too surreal to believe, and as Jimin peered down into his vodka-filled cup he started to wonder if he had imagined the intensity, the desire. How much had he drunk tonight? Because surely… surely that didn't actually happen.

Maybe Jimin had projected all that tension onto something that was ultimately just two friends getting a little carried away in a bizarrely intimate party game.

The thought left him colder than it should have.

He took another long swallow of his drink and turned out of the kitchen. Across the hall, the dance floor pulsed with movement under the shifting red lights. People laughed, shouted over the music, danced like the world outside Taehyung's walls didn't exist.

And there was Jeongguk, already back on the dance floor, a drink in hand like someone had been waiting with it for him. He hadn't put his jacket back on, so not only were his defined shoulders and arms on display but so was the hickey, a perfect little dark spot decorating his neck right where it sloped into his shoulder. One of the guys on the dance floor with him lifted a hand to touch it, but Jeongguk laughed and brushed the guy's hand away before he could make contact, only to touch the hickey himself – it was a slow touch, his fingers lingering on the bruise, and like it was a trigger Jeongguk's gaze flicked up, landing on Jimin almost immediately.

Jimin's lips tingled with the reminder.

"Jiminie!"

Taehyung was suddenly draped over Jimin's back, his cheek nuzzling against Jimin's. "Why are you standing here? Go dance!"

Before Jimin could protest, Taehyung had already hooked an arm around his shoulders and hauled him bodily into the crush of bodies.

The dance floor was hotter than the rest of the house, thick with body heat and the pulse of bass vibrating up through the soles of his shoes. The flashing strobe lights swept across the dancing bodies, catching the sheen of sweat and glitter that a few people had decorated their face and hands with.

Taehyung immediately threw himself into the music with his usual reckless abandon, somehow managing to look both elegant and ridiculous at once as he swayed between Jimin and another group of dancers nearby.

Jimin laughed despite himself.

He let the rhythm catch him, shoulders loosening as he moved automatically to the beat, drink still clutched in one hand.

But even with Taehyung dancing half-draped over him and bodies pressing close on every side, his awareness kept snagging elsewhere.

On Jeongguk.

He was only a few feet away, moving easily with the music, head tipped back for a moment as he laughed at something one of his friends shouted into his ear. Then his gaze found Jimin – and dipped to Jimin's throat, to where his own matching mark sat exposed above the neckline of Jimin's shirt.

The look was brief, but just long enough for Jimin to feel the phantom press of Jeongguk's mouth there all over again.

His skin prickled.

And he looked away first, pretending sudden interest in Taehyung's aggressively enthusiastic dancing. It didn't help, because even without looking directly at him Jimin could feel Jeongguk's presence like static humming against his skin.

The space between them seemed charged.

This was what it felt like during the threesome, too. Jimin had put it down to the spontaneity of the moment, to the confidence of the girl between them, the thrill of it all, but feeling it now told Jimin knew it had nothing to do with the girl, or the alcohol.

Then the song shifted, bass dropping into something heavier and a song the crowd loved, their cheers shrill and emphatic. Someone got a bit too excited and stumbled sideways into Jimin's shoulder, knocking him off-balance, and Jimin barely had time to catch himself before he staggered forward—

And Jeongguk's hand caught his hip.

His palm landed right against the curve of Jimin's waist, fingers spreading just enough to steady him.

Suddenly, Jimin felt like someone with a first crush. His heartbeat kicked up into a fast rhythm of nerves and anticipation, skin heating with the same, and he couldn't bring himself to look Jeongguk in the eye.

Self-preservation had Jimin seeking escape, and he muttered some excuse to leave the dance floor, ignoring Taehyung's protest and the way Jeongguk's hand gazed over his back as they separated. He pushed through the crowded lounge before he could do something catastrophically stupid, like turn around and kiss Jeongguk again in the middle of the dance floor.

His face burned at the thought alone.

The music followed him through the house, muffled slightly once he escaped the main room, but the bass still pulsed through the walls as he climbed the staircase two steps at a time. He ignored the stupid closet of Seokjin's stupid game and went straight to one of the guest rooms, relieved to find it empty. The room was softly lit by a small bedside lamp, warm amber light spilling across neatly folded blankets and an untouched bed that looked almost offensively calm compared to the chaos currently happening inside Jimin's head.

He slipped inside quickly and shut the door behind him, pressing his back against it as if physically holding the rest of the party out and silence descended almost immediately, muted except for the distant thrum of music downstairs.

Jimin dragged both hands down his face. "Oh my god."

What the hell was wrong with him?

It had just been a kiss.

This should've been easy to laugh off. He and Jeongguk had always been affectionate with each other, physical contact never unusual between them, and given their flexible sexualities was it really so significant that they shared a kiss? Jimin shouldn't be giving it any significance.

But instead, Jimin felt like his entire body had been rewired in the span of seven minutes.

Everywhere Jeongguk had touched him still burned. His neck tingled where Jeongguk had kissed him. His lips felt bruised in the best possible way.

And worst of all – absolutely worst of all – Jimin wanted to do it again.

The thought hit him so hard he groaned aloud and stumbled face-first onto the bed. The mattress muffled his suffering exactly zero percent, and now that he was alone his brain had apparently decided to replay every second in high definition.

Jeongguk's hand cupping his jaw.

The sound he'd made into the kiss.

The way he'd looked at Jimin afterwards.

Jimin rolled onto his back with another groan, staring at the ceiling.

And then someone knocked on the door.

"This room's taken!" Jimin shouted impatiently.

"I know," came the response, and Jimin jolted upright.

Because the response came from Jeongguk.

"Can I come in, Jimin?"

Jimin stared at the door and his heartbeat, which had only just started calming down, immediately launched itself back into chaos.

He considered pretending he wasn't in there – which was a terrible plan, considering he'd literally answered five seconds ago.

Jimin knew if he told Jeongguk no, he'd walk away without pushing, but there was a softness to his tone, a slight hesitance, that made Jimin realise that perhaps Jeongguk is off-balance by their kiss as he was.

"Fine," Jimin relented. "You can come in."

The doorknob turned carefully, and Jeongguk slipped inside before quietly shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against the door, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans now and that damn hickey on full display.

The sight made Jimin's stomach swoop again.

God, this was a nightmare.

Or maybe the opposite of one.

That was honestly part of the problem.

Jimin sat cross-legged near the edge of the bed, trying very hard to appear normal and definitely not like he'd been internally spiralling for the last ten minutes.

Jeongguk looked at him for a long moment, and then loosed a heavy sigh. "I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?"

Jimin wasn't sure what he had expected Jeongguk to say, but it wasn't that. The question caught him off-guard, his mouth opening instinctively to respond but failing to form any words.

His silence, however, only made Jeongguk's expression twist with remorse. "I knew I shouldn't have kissed you. I mean, I wanted to," Jeongguk admitted quickly, words beginning to tumble out over each other. "That's the problem. I think I've wanted to for a while now, actually."

Jimin froze.

Jeongguk laughed once under his breath, nervous and self-deprecating. He pushed himself off the door and started pacing a little through the room, fingers dragging through his already messy hair. "After that night, the– the threesome, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Not even the whole thing," he added. "Just you."

Oh, Jimin thought. It was really his only coherent thought, because everything else in his head was jumbled like it had been put in a blender.

Jeongguk continued before he could respond though, speaking faster now like if he stopped he'd lose his nerve entirely. "I kept replaying the parts where it was us touching each other, or when we were close enough to kiss but never did, and at first I thought maybe I was just weirded out because you're my best friend and we'd crossed some line we weren't supposed to cross."

His eyes flicked back to Jimin's.

"But then it didn't go away."

Every word landed directly in the centre of Jimin's chest – because he knew that feeling.

God, he knew it.

Jeongguk exhaled shakily and rubbed at the back of his neck again. "I started noticing stupid things after that. Like how often I wanted to touch you." He laughed weakly. "Or how annoying it got seeing other people flirt with you."

Something curled pleasantly in Jimin's chest at that.

"I wasn't even going to come to the party tonight because I didn't trust myself not to say or do something stupid," Jeongguk continued, with a tone of voice like he was reprimanding himself, "and guess what? I did! All because I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you."

Hearing Jeongguk ramble was like hearing his own thoughts out loud, nearly word for word, and this feeling of incredulity – of excitement, too – started welling up inside him, because was he really hearing this? Was Jeongguk really confessing to having this attraction, this desire, toward Jimin?

And as Jeongguk continued to ramble, Jimin started imagining what it might be like to date Jeongguk. That hadn't even been the topic of his thoughts these last couple of months, because even though he had been thinking of kissing Jeongguk, or wondering what it would feel like, and questioning this sudden physical attraction to Jeongguk, his thoughts had never expanded to dating or a relationship with Jeongguk if only because he was already too confused by the rest.

But now…

Now, he was seeing it.

Jimin was seeing the nights they went to their favourite barbecue restaurants, but instead of sitting opposite each other they were sitting beside each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh, and he was seeing the nights where Jeongguk would come into Jimin's dorm to hang out, but instead of sitting on Jimin's bed eating cup ramyeon they were tangled up in each other…. and, oh shit, Jimin wanted that.

He wanted to at least see what it felt like.

Because they were already perfect for each other as best friends. They ate the same food, watched the same shows and movies, shared the same humour with an endless supply of memes and videos sent between them, and never failed to understand each other's feelings when they were struggling about something.

But now… now there was physical attraction.

A desire for intimacy.

"So I won't do it again," Jeongguk decided, "because our friendship means so much and I know it was impulsive to—"

Jimin was off the bed, colliding with Jeongguk so suddenly they both stumbled back and before Jeongguk's surprise could form words, Jimin kissed him.

Jeongguk made a startled sound against his mouth, hands instinctively catching at Jimin's waist to steady them both as his back hit the wall with a dull thud, but the surprise lasted only a second because then Jeongguk kissed him back just as intensely.

The force of it sent heat rushing through Jimin's entire body.

"Don't," Jimin breathed against his lips before kissing him again. "Don't say you won't do it again."

Jeongguk's grip tightened sharply on his waist. "You– you want this?"

The question should have annoyed Jimin slightly considering he'd just launched himself across the room to kiss Jeongguk into a wall.

Instead, warmth spread painfully through his chest.

Because Jeongguk was still checking, still making sure, as if he was making up for not getting Jimin's consent first in the closet.

Leaning back slightly, Jimin looked down at Jeongguk's kiss-swollen lips and said, "I've been thinking about it just as long as you have."

"Holy shit," Jeongguk uttered.

Jimin laughed. "Yeah, holy shit."

Then they were kissing again, a little more softly now, like taking the time to memorise each other's lips, but it didn't take long for the heat and hunger to return. Desire churned wildly in Jimin's stomach and he could feel the way their bodies pressed together, arousal stirring quickly between them, and other images formed in Jimin's head that only made his arousal worse.

"Do you—" Jimin tried to break the kiss but Jeongguk chased his mouth, cutting of his sentence. He tried again, saying, "Do you want more than kissing?"

Jeongguk's eyes, glazed with want, cleared slightly. "Like– like right now?"

"Yes, right now," Jimin replied impatiently, and his rolled his hips into Jeongguk with clear intent.

"Fuck yes," Jeongguk said. He swept his hands under Jimin's thighs, lifting him abruptly off the ground and Jimin hadn't been expecting it, surprise jolting through him.

Jeongguk carried him to the bed, but when he dropped Jimin onto the mattress Jimin gasped, "Oh wow."

"What?" Jeongguk asked.

Jimin cleared his throat, blushing. "I think I might have just unlocked a strength kink."

Laughter burst out of Jeongguk, his eyes and nose crinkling, but as he leaned back down his laughter faded into something cocky, a wry grin curling one corner of his mouth. "I'll remember that for next time."

Next time.

Jimin inhaled a shaky breath, then grabbed at Jeongguk's shirt to drag him into a kiss.

Despite the years of platonic friendship, the confusion of their recent attraction, there was no hesitation or embarrassment in their movements. Jimin didn't think twice before grabbing at the hem of Jeongguk's tank top and tugging it upwards; it was almost a race to undress each other, Jeongguk already undoing the belt and zipper of Jimin's pants when he had to pause – with a pout – just so Jimin could remove his top.

"Fuck," Jimin whispered as he admired Jeongguk's bare torso, the low lamplight casting defining shadows against the muscles of his chest and abs.

Jeongguk was focused back on Jimin's pants, but he said, "You've seen me shirtless before."

"Yeah," Jimin agreed, running his eyes down Jeongguk's body, "but not while you were on top of me."

Jeongguk snorted a laugh, and then dragged Jimin's pants down with barely held patience. They were flung toward the ground, letting the cooler air of the bedroom ghost over Jimin's bare legs, the bulge of his half-hard dick obvious under his black briefs.

"Fuck," Jeongguk groaned as well, and then he was dropping his mouth back down to Jimin's, teeth momentarily knocking as they kissed roughly. At the same time, Jeongguk cupped Jimin through his briefs and Jimin tried to gasp, but it was muffled by the kiss. The contact made his hips buck up though, only causing Jeongguk's hand to rub over him more forcefully.

There was no hesitation from Jeongguk as he sent his hand under the waistband, his warm, large palm grasping Jimin's cock fully. Jimin forgot about the kissing, his mouth falling open with a moan, head rolling back against the mattress, but Jeongguk didn't stop kissing and nipping at Jimin's lips while he stroked him at the same time.

The glide of Jeongguk's hand was getting wetter, precum already dampening Jimin's briefs, and he could feel pleasure coiling tighter in his belly.

"Gonna mark you again," Jeongguk uttered, dragging his mouth down to Jimin's neck – the opposite side of the first hickey, just to suck at the skin there.

Jimin's toes curled and his breathing increased as his pleasure did, and it startled him how quickly he could feel an orgasm approaching but every time he reminded himself it was Jeongguk overwhelming him with all these sensations Jimin only felt more aroused, more intoxicated.

"Jeongguk," he gasped, "I'm gonna—"

"Do it, cum for me," Jeongguk pleaded, biting at Jimin's neck as his hand stroked faster, squeezing, twisting. "I'll make you cum again– and again—"

"Oh fuck," Jimin cried out and he grabbed reflexively at Jeongguk's arm, fingers digging into his bicep like it was an anchor as he came, an orgasm blissfully rippling through him.

He sunk down into the mattress in the aftermath, enjoying the sensation of Jeongguk's mouth trailing kisses down the centre of his chest. He felt both of Jeongguk's hands pulling at his briefs and lifted his lips, letting the damp piece of clothing slide off.

"I have a dilemma," Jeongguk said then, resting his chin on Jimin's stomach as he looked up at him.

Jimin lifted his head. "Oh?"

A endearing pout formed on Jeongguk's mouth. "I can't decide what I want more, me fucking you or you fucking me."

"Ah," Jimin said with a laugh, "that is quite a dilemma."

Jimin agreed though; both options reignited his hunger, but the feeling of Jeongguk lifting him off his feet, carrying him, the idea of Jeongguk letting loose some of that strength while they fucked, had Jimin realising exactly what he wanted.

"I'll get my turn next time," he said, sitting up.

Next time.

Jimin used the words just like Jeongguk had, with the exact same confidence – and it was so simple, saying next time like it was undeniable, like there was no reason why they wouldn't do this again, no possible scenario where these newfound feelings between them wouldn't continue after tonight.

"For now," Jimin continued, gently pushing Jeongguk against his chest to flip their positions, "I have other ideas."

They kissed again, slow and indulgent, while Jimin worked open Jeongguk's pants and then a moment later they were both fully undressed. Jeongguk admired Jimin's body with just as much appreciation as Jimin had done, but then Jimin was sliding down until his face was level with the very hard, perfectly sized cock that waited for him. He glanced up, finding Jeongguk watching him with wide eyes of anticipation, and Jimin couldn't help but smile in response.

And then he opened his mouth, parting it over the flushed tip of Jeongguk's cock. It was already wet with precum, the tang of its flavour coating Jimin's lips straight away. He heard Jeongguk let out a breathy moan, and then he felt Jeongguk's hand thread into his hair, tangling around the strands that were tied half-up.

Jimin shivered in response, but he focused on what he was doing, loosening his jaw to take as much of Jeongguk's length as his could, his tongue swirling around the thickness in deliberate strokes.

"Oh my god," Jeongguk groaned. "I– thought about that too. Your tongue. Couldn't– couldn't stop thinking about it If I saw you using it…"

Jimin dragged his mouth up, looking back up at Jeongguk curiously. "Oh? This tongue?" he said, and then swirled it over the leaking head.

"Fuck, Jimin."

Jimin did have a long tongue, he'd acknowledge that. But he also knew how to use it.

"Turn over," Jimin demanded then.

There was a brief pause as Jeongguk considered what Jimin wanted to do, and then he rolled over eagerly. His ass, perfectly firm and sculptured, was now on display and Jimin had the abrupt urge to lean down and dig his teeth into one of his cheeks. He heard Jeongguk gasp, felt him flinch, and Jimin smiled in satisfaction to himself. But he moved his mouth over, sinking his tongue into the crevice of Jeongguk's ass to flick it over the tight entrance.

"Oh—!"

Jimin flattened his tongue, tasting more, before pushing the tip of it past the ring of muscle. Jeongguk's hips lifted in response, more sounds of pleasure being muffled by the bed as he pressed his face against it. Jimin licked and sucked, thrusting his tongue in relentlessly, until Jeongguk was reaching back and tugging desperately on Jimin's hair again.

"Jimin, wait. Wait—" he panted heavily. "Don't wanna cum yet."

As much as Jimin wanted Jeongguk to cum from his tongue alone, he was also pretty desperate himself to feel Jeongguk inside him and so he relented, giving Jeongguk's rim one last swirl of his tongue, flicking it teasingly in a way that had Jeongguk's whole body trembling. He kissed a line up the defined slope of Jeongguk's back, and then when Jeongguk turned over to face him again Jimin lifted himself higher until their cocks slid against each other.

Jeongguk blinked his eyes back into focus and said, "Think Seokjin left any condoms in here?"

"I'm fine without one," Jimin replied with a shrug. "And as for lube…"

He grabbed Jeongguk's hand, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to suck on them, one by one, and held eye contact with Jeongguk as he did. Jeongguk's eyes glazed over with desire again, his teeth biting lightly at his bottom lip as he watched Jimin.

"Can't believe it took us this long," Jeongguk murmured.

Jimin smiled in response, and once he was satisfied Jeongguk's fingers were lubricated enough he guided Jeongguk's hand to his backside, letting go only to brace himself against Jeongguk's chest.

But the moment Jeongguk touched one finger to Jimin's entrance, he paused.

"Wait," he said, before reaching his other hand up, finding the tie holding half of Jimin's blonde hair up – and then pulled it off, letting all the strands fall down around his face and neck.

"Never cut your hair," he demanded, though his tone was fond.

Jimin quirked his brow at him. "Why? Just so you can keep holding onto it?"

"Exactly," said Jeongguk, and he briefly gripped Jimin's hair, pulling lightly at the roots just enough to make Jimin's dick twitch.

Strength king and a pain kink, he thought to himself.

Jeongguk pushed a finger in then, and Jimin leaned forward with a heavy exhale. He could feel the gentle stretch starting, the slight feeling of pressure as Jeongguk's long index finger went deeper. He started slowly, like an exploration, but when he added a second finger he thrust them both faster, and a little harder, curling and scissoring them, until he grazed against Jimin's prostate.

"There!" Jimin gasped, the sensation zapping through him.

"There?" asked Jeongguk roughly. "Right there?"

And Jeongguk did it again, making Jimin's arms nearly buckle where he held himself up.

"Yes, yes," said Jimin desperately.

Jeongguk withdrew his fingers, gripping both hands to Jimin's waist and physically manoeuvring him until Jimin felt Jeongguk's cock slide up through his cheeks. The tip caught slightly on his rim and Jimin impatiently reached behind himself, lining Jeongguk up.

"You're so perfect," Jeongguk whispered, with a sudden affection in his eyes that had Jimin's heartbeat stuttering.

It drew Jimin down and they kissed a temporary intermission, Jeongguk's hands sweeping up from Jimin's hips to roam over his firm back. When Jimin leaned back Jeongguk followed him until they were both upright, chest-to-chest, and their lips parted just enough to share breath when Jimin finally pushed Jeongguk into him.

"Oh shit," Jimin uttered, and Jeongguk kissed him through it.

The stretch was a lot more than with Jeongguk's fingers and it stole Jimin's breath, but the burn eased away into that pleasant feeling of fullness as they sat there, each adjusting to the feeling.

Sounding a little breathless, Jeongguk said, "Is it too early to say I want this to always be you?"

Warmth spread through Jimin's chest and he turned his head, kissing Jeongguk's cheek while his arms wrapped around Jeongguk's neck to hold him closer.

Had it been anyone else saying this to him, Jimin would have absolutely thought it too early… but when Jeongguk said it, Jimin couldn't think of anything other than I want it to always be you too.

"Definitely not," he whispered.

They kissed again, which was quickly becoming Jimin's favourite thing to do, and then Jimin started to sway his hips, letting Jeongguk's cock drag out of him just a little before pushing back down on it.

Jeongguk groaned in delight, then ducked his head to mouth at Jimin's chest, over a nipple, his teeth catching one with a gentle nip. Jimin wasn't sure how long he would last in this position, Jeongguk already reaching deep enough to hit Jimin's prostate, sending shock waves of pleasure through his body. His thighs trembled from the effort.

"Jeongguk—"

"Just a bit longer," Jeongguk replied, licking over Jimin's nipple. "You look so good like this."

Jeongguk put his hands back on Jimin's waist, guiding his hips to move, adding a little strength to ease the effort off Jimin. Jimin dropped his head onto Jeongguk's shoulder, briefly looking down between their bodies to see his cock leaking precum against Jeongguk's stomach.

And then Jeongguk pushed Jimin down. They were close to the foot of the bed, so Jimin's head hung slightly over the edge but he didn't care, because Jeongguk was grabbing Jimin's legs to hold them up – and then he started thrusting, properly thrusting. His hips slammed forward, slow but deliberate movements, jolting Jimin's body against the mattress.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Jeongguk declared, his pace starting to quicken.

Still, Jimin was impatient.

"Faster," he ordered breathlessly, because he could feel his orgasm building again and he knew it was going to be good, could feel the way his body was heating up in readiness.

Jeongguk pounded harder, faster, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead, and Jimin couldn't stop the gasp and breaths that punched out of his lungs with each hit of Jeongguk's cock against his prostate.

"Jimin– Jimin," Jeongguk chanted, squeezing Jimin's thighs.

"Keep going, baby," said Jimin.

Jeongguk's eyes fluttered open. "Call me that again."

"Baby," Jimin replied instantly, and he slid one hand down to his own cock, gripping it lightly. Jeongguk watched the movement, as if it was his own private show, and so Jimin absently stroked his thumb over his tip, adding to his pleasure.

"Ah— I'm close," said Jeongguk, tossing his head back but keeping his pace. "So– fucking– close."

And when Jeongguk gave a particularly sharp thrust Jimin's orgasm crashed over him, his back arching off the bed as he came all over his own hand and stomach. Jeongguk kept fucking him, chasing his own release, but he dropped Jimin's legs to fall forward, clutching at Jimin's waist instead.

He moved relentlessly, panting, his hands likely to leave bruises on Jimin's hips to match the hickey on his neck, and then Jimin felt the moment tension snapped through Jeongguk, felt the way his hips stuttered to a stop as he came inside, and Jimin loved the feeling. Jeongguk let out a keening whine before his orgasm ended, and then he rested his head on Jimin's chest while he caught his breath.

Instinctively, Jimin stroked a hand down Jeongguk's back, slightly grazing his nails over his skin in a calming touch.

"That was incredible," Jeongguk uttered.

Jimin hummed in agreement and Jeongguk nuzzled closer against him, their heartbeats slowly calming.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The room had gone warm and quiet around them, the bedside lamp casting soft amber light over tangled sheets and discarded clothing. Jeongguk's arm was draped heavily across Jimin's waist, his face tucked against Jimin's shoulder like this was the most natural place in the world for him to be.

And somehow—

it was.

That was the part Jimin couldn't stop thinking about.

Not the sex itself, though that had very much short-circuited several important functions in his brain, and not the fact that he'd just slept with his best friend.

But how normal this felt afterwards.

There was no awkwardness clawing at him. No panic. No sudden urge to put distance between them before reality settled in. If anything, Jimin only wanted to curl closer.

He'd cuddled Jeongguk before countless times over the years. Falling asleep during movie nights, sharing beds when one of them crashed too hard after parties, draping themselves over each other on couches like personal space had never existed between them.

This felt like an extension of that.

Different, obviously, but not wrong. And certainly not strange.

Jimin looked down at Jeongguk, who was absentmindedly tracing patterns against his side now, eyes half-lidded and relaxed in a way Jimin had never seen after hookups before.

A ridiculous wave of affection hit him so hard it almost hurt.

He brushed his fingers through Jeongguk's hair, and Jeongguk immediately melted further into him with a pleased little hum.

Jimin smiled helplessly.

Silence stretched between them again, a comfortable silence, but slowly, other sounds began creeping back into Jimin's awareness; the distant thud of music, and muffled laughter echoing from the staircase.

Jimin groaned and tipped his head back against the edge of the bed. "We should probably get up."

Jeongguk made a noise of protest against his shoulder. "No."

"Very compelling argument," Jimin said with a laugh. "Honestly, I'm surprised no one else has walked in yet."

"You've jinxed us now," said Jeongguk, sighing dramatically as he rolled onto his back.

Jimin let his eyes roam appreciatively over Jeongguk's body, watching the way he stretched his muscles along the bed and it was a little disappointing, the fact they couldn't continue and Jimin couldn't have his fill of Jeongguk's perfect ass, but he settled that disappointment with the reminder of endless next times.

Admiring Jeongguk's body reminded him of the state of their bodies, though.

"We can't get dressed like this," Jimin said, because they were both covered in the remnants of sex.

Jeongguk sat up, casting a look across the room as if determining whether there were any towels. The bedroom didn't have an adjacent bathroom, and neither of them were about to walk outside just to find one, but then Jeongguk stood up in all his naked glory and went to the closet in the corner. Given it was a guest room, the closet didn't have any clothes but there was a blanket – and Jeongguk grabbed it.

"You're seriously going to clean us off with a blanket?" Jimin asked humorously.

Jeongguk shrugged. "If Seokjin is going to host a Hook Up Night, he should have better supplied the bedroom."

Jimin couldn't argue with that, so together they wiped themselves clean as best they could with the gold-coloured blanket, it's material the kind that felt like expensive cashmere.

Oh well.

They gathered their clothes too, but Jimin took one look at his underwear and said, "Definitely not putting these on."

He didn't want to leave them behind, either, but before he could consider what to do with them Jeongguk grabbed the cum-stained underwear, bundled it up, and hid it in one of his jean pockets.

Jimin blinked at him, not sure whether to be grossed out or flattered. "You're a bit of a freak, aren't you?" he said instead.

Jeongguk wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Only for you."

Jimin barked out a laugh.

It burst out of him before he could stop it, bright and helpless and full of so much affection it almost startled him. Jeongguk immediately started laughing too, grinning so widely his nose scrunched in that familiar way Jimin had always found unfairly cute.

He reached out and grabbed the front of Jeongguk's shirt, tugging him closer again and Jeongguk came willingly. His smile lingered against Jimin's mouth as their lips met, the kiss soft and warm and unhurried. Nothing like the frantic desperation from earlier.

Jimin kissed him once, twice, lingering for a moment before pulling back just enough for their foreheads to brush. He looked at Jeongguk's flushed face, at the hickey dark against his neck, at the ridiculous fondness shining openly in his eyes now.

"I can't believe we were worried we'd ruin the friendship," Jimin said in exasperation.

Jeongguk stared at him for half a second, and then he snorted. "It may not have been the friendship but we definitely ruined a couple of things."

Pointedly, he looked back at the messed up sheets of the guest bed and the soiled blanket tossed in the corner.

Jimin laughed once more, then grabbed Jeongguk's hand to pull him toward the door. The simple act made his stomach flutter embarrassingly, too.

Holding Jeongguk's hand shouldn't have felt new – they'd done it before jokingly, drunkenly, absentmindedly – but now Jimin was acutely aware of the warmth of Jeongguk's palm against his, of the way Jeongguk's fingers immediately curled back around his without hesitation.

Jimin cracked the bedroom door open carefully, peering into the hallway like they were criminals trying to evade capture. Then they slipped into the hall together, shoulders brushing as Jimin quietly shut the door behind them—

—Only for another door opposite them to open at the exact same moment.

The linen closet.

Jimin froze.

Kim Namjoon stepped out first.

His usually neat hair was thoroughly mussed, lips visibly swollen, and the collar of his sweater sat crooked like it'd been tugged on repeatedly. He looked dazed in a distinctly post-makeout sort of way, blinking slowly as though reacclimating himself to reality.

Then Seokjin emerged behind him.

Also flushed.

Also kiss-swollen.

Also looking far too pleased with himself.

Jimin's eyes widened.

Namjoon noticed them first, and for one awful second all four of them simply stared at each other in mutual recognition. Then Namjoon cleared his throat with the gravitas of a man pretending his entire face wasn't glowing red.

"I'm going downstairs," he announced to absolutely nobody.

And before anyone could say a word, he walked directly past them and disappeared down the staircase at alarming speed.

The second he vanished, Jimin pointed accusingly at Seokjin. "You hooked up with Kim Namjoon?"

Seokjin straightened with all the dignity of someone who had very obviously just been making out in a closet for seven minutes. "I did."

Jimin looked between Seokjin's smug expression and the staircase Namjoon had escaped down moments earlier. "How the hell were you lucky enough to get matched with your own crush?"

At that, Seokjin's smile turned deeply, deeply suspicious. "Who said anything about luck?"

Jimin blinked.

The pieces clicked together so suddenly it almost felt audible.

His eyes narrowed slowly. "No."

Seokjin only adjusted the sleeves of his shirt innocently.

"Hyung," Jimin said flatly.

"You know," Seokjin mused casually, "it's actually very easy to memorise which bracelets have which numbers."

Jimin stared at him in horror.

Beside him, Jeongguk made another choked sound.

"You rigged the game?" Jimin whisper-yelled.

"Absolutely. Do you know how long I've been waiting for Kim Namjoon to stop overthinking long enough to kiss me willingly?"

"But you said you wouldn't!"

"I said it would be considered cheating," Seokjin corrected, "but I never said I wouldn't do it."

And then Seokjin's smile widened as he looked between Jimin and Jeongguk, and Jimin's stomach dropped.

"Oh my god," Jimin whispered.

"Anyway!" Seokjin exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Best I get to the next pairing. See you lovebirds later!"

The senior slipped past them, escaping to the staircase before Jimin could stop him. And Jimin did try, lurching forward to grab the older man by the back of his shirt, fully intending to strangle him – but Jeongguk grabbed Jimin first, pulling him back into his arms.

"Hey," Jimin snapped, whirling around. "Did you see that? He set us up! He put us in the closet and—"

Jeongguk kissed him.

Just like that.

Quick enough to interrupt the rant entirely, but lingering enough that Jimin's anger dissolved on impact.

When Jeongguk pulled back, his mouth curved into a small smile. "Does it matter?" he asked softly.

Jimin opened his mouth, then closed it again. Because—

No. Not really.

Objectively, yes, he probably should've been outraged that his friend had inadvertently orchestrated his entire emotional crisis, but standing here with Jeongguk's arms wrapped around his waist and his lips still warm from kissing him, Jimin found it very difficult to care.

Then Jeongguk glanced over to the open closet, before looking back to Jimin with mischief in his eyes. "How about we spend another seven minutes ruining more of Seokjin's linen?"

Jimin pulled Jeongguk into the closet a moment later.