Archive of Our Own

“Cheers!”

The clink of their wine glasses punctuates the exclamation before Seokjin moves to sip from the wide-brimmed glass. He watches with a fond smile as Jungkook swirls his own glass around violently, nearly spilling the wine with his vigor. Finally, Jungkook takes his sip, too, long and zealous.

“Taste good?” Seokjin asks even though the price tag alone means it must be good. He picked this bottle on purpose, an Italian red to pair with the meat they’ll be grilling today.

“Oh, it’s good,” Jungkook starts. He resumes agitating the glass to aerate the wine.  “You know swirling it around like this makes it taste better? Exposes more of the wine to the air so it oxidizes.”

Seokjin keeps the fact that he doesn’t need to swirl it that hard to himself. “You look ridiculous doing that, you know.”

“Try it, hyung, you’ll like it,” Jungkook replies, not taking the bait. A rare occasion.

He gives his glass a few cursory swirls, gently coating the edges of his glass in wine before taking another sip. Seokjin feels his ears heat up from Jungkook’s full attention focused on his reaction. “It does taste different,” he concedes.

“I told you so.” Jungkook sets his glass down on the table after one final swirl-and-sip. They both stare out the window for a quiet moment at the darkening street below them, store fronts glowing brighter as the sun sets farther behind the cityscape. 

They’re sitting side by side at Seokjin’s request. When they arrived, Jungkook made a big show of walking into the private room, ooh-ing at the case of wine along the far wall, waa-ing at the big windows overlooking the relatively quiet side-street below. The phone call Seokjin made weeks ago was totally unnecessary; the restaurant isn’t that crowded despite the holiday, and a simple mention of his name could’ve gotten them a same day table if he wanted. He also knows Jungkook would have happily strolled up to any of the meat restaurants in this neighborhood with a free table and eaten through their stock of fatty pork belly with an audience of fans and onlookers the entire night.

Instead, Seokjin assured they would have a secluded space for them to enjoy some privacy, complete with a list of known staff members and signed NDA’s for the night. Standard practice, Seokjin explained unnecessarily. They wouldn’t bat an eyelash at two male band members sharing a meal together anyway. He let the company take care of the finer details.

Jungkook-ah, dress nicely. Hyung’s gonna take you somewhere nice tonight, Seokjin had texted Jungkook this morning. He was certain Jungkook wouldn’t answer for at least another three hours, and he was fully aware what Jungkook’s idea of “dress nicely” would mean. The deep gray sweater Jungkook is wearing looked soft and felt fluffy to the touch when Seokjin smacked his shoulder in greeting as the younger man slipped into the passenger seat. The neckline is just slouchy enough to allow Seokjin an open view of his collarbones, interrupted only by a short silver chain wrapped around his neck. Jungkook’s blue denim pants are tucked loosely into a pair of black leather boots Seokjin remembers from one of the many PR boxes Jungkook received from Calvin Klein. It’s more color than even Seokjin was expecting, and he’s been waiting for the waiters to stop hovering to get his hands back on the knit fabric of that sweater.

It’s not like they’re at a particularly fancy restaurant, anyway. Jungkook has eaten at far nicer restaurants in far slouchier clothes. 

A young man enters their room then with a brief greeting to interrupt Seokjin’s ogling.

“Hello Jin-nim, Jungkook-nim,” he says, lighting the grill and maneuvering the fan over the fire to pick up the smoke right away. “I’ll be cooking your meat today. You ordered two servings of pork belly and two bone-in sirloin, correct?”

Seokjin starts to nod at the same time Jungkook sits up straight in his seat to turn his wide eyes on him. “Hyung, only two samgyupsal?”

“Aish, we can order more if you’re still hungry,” he reprimands. He turns back to the waiter holding the first plate of pork belly in hesitation. “Yes, that’s right.”

The man quickly transfers the meat to the grill then. 

“I’m a fan,” he mumbles shyly as the fat starts to sizzle in the heat. 

As soon as the meat was brought into the room, Jungkook’s eyes became laser focused. Seokjin can feel the effort it takes for Jungkook not to backseat the young man’s cooking; put the fat side down first, he knows Jungkook wants to say but is too polite to nag at a stranger. If it were Seokjin cooking in one of their apartments, his boyfriend would have absolutely no qualms about ordering Seokjin around a dish he’s made a million times. Ever since Jungkook completed his military service, he’s been acting like a three-star Michelin chef just because he knows how to hold a knife properly and prepare food for 30 men in an hour. 

They entertain the man while he cooks their food, thanking him for his interest in their music and performances, asking base-level questions about when he became a fan and who his favorite member is. Seokjin plays up his distaste when the waiter looks between the two of them and answers RM-hyung.

“Le-mon-hyung is so cool,” Jungkook agrees, nodding along like this waiter has imparted some grand wisdom on them.

Seokjin exclaims, “yah,” and yanks Jungkook to face him with a hand on his fuzzy-sweatered bicep. “Am I nothing to you?”

There’s a glint in Jungkook’s eye that Seokjin dislikes instantly. “What has hyung done that’s cool?” Jungkook teases.

Seokjin can do nothing but take the bait. “Yah!” Jungkook’s face scrunches up as he tries to reign in his smile. “I sacrificed my youth to raise you! You would be starving on the streets if it weren’t for hyung and his credit card. And this is the kind of thanks I get? Cham,” Seokjin chides. His face is red from the outburst and the heat of the grill.

“Will hyung use his credit card to buy this meal?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide and grin even wider. The way he looks up at Seokjin from where he’s leaned forward in his chair, his lifted cheeks push the fat of his eyes into little pockets of love, crinkled at the edges. Seokjin’s face burns even hotter.

“Maybe you should call ‘le-mon-hyung’ instead. Maybe he can pay for all this meat with his coolness,” Seokjin pouts.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the waiter chuckle while he fiddles with the meat on the grill. The pork hasn’t even been cut into pieces yet, still browning on the outside. The man’s nice enough, but Seokjin is counting down the minutes until they’re left alone so he can really have a go at Jungkook. Grab him by his shoulders and wrestle him for the first bite, remind him who the oldest is, put him in his place with a kiss and a slap to the wrist.

“Okay, I will,” Jungkook states simply. He reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out. Seokjin watches as he unlocks it with a look and opens up the contacts app, scrolling through the list of names for a moment before locking the screen again and putting his phone to the side. “I don’t have his number.”

Seokjin and the waiter bark out a laugh at the same time. Wordlessly, the waiter flips the meat once and starts cutting the pork into chunks with his scissors. Jungkook’s attention is drawn back to the pork belly nearly ready to eat before him. The final few minutes of the meat cooking are spent watching the meat sizzle on the grill. 

The waiter learns quickly. When the first pieces of meat are done, he moves the cooked pieces of pork belly to Jungkook’s side of the grill first, setting them away from the glowing embers so they don’t overcook.

“You may eat these ones now,” the waiter says. He places a few pieces in front of Seokjin after.

Jungkook taps the tips of his silver chopsticks against the table and reaches for the plate of lettuce with his free hand. “I’ll eat well,” he recites as he prepares his first wrap.

Seokjin waits patiently as the waiter finishes the bone-in chunks, as well. He divides the remaining meat equally on either side of the grill and collects the empty plates in front of him. Jungkook is already stuffing a rounded handful of lettuce and meat into his mouth when the waiter asks if they need anything else before he leaves. “We’ll call you with the button when we’re ready for more,” Seokjin reminds the waiter.

The waiter acknowledges him with a yes, Seokjin-nim before dipping his head forward in a deep bow and closing the door. If this young man was entrusted as their sole waiter during their visit, then he was surely briefed on the concise-but-specific requests Seokjin made when he set the reservation. Privacy, first. Jungkook gets some joy out of being seen and recognized when he goes out, at least when the fans keep their distance, however, Seokjin does not like the attention at all. It’s only natural that they request a private room or secluded area when meeting up in groups. 

Jungkook was surprised when Seokjin tugged him down into the seat directly beside him, but went along with it casually enough. The hostess scrambled to shift the second table setting in front of the chair Jungkook had taken instead. For the staff members’ sake, he explained, “Jungkook-ah, the view’s better over here, you know.”

“After the meat is cooked,” Seokjin had instructed over the phone, “please leave us alone unless we call someone with the bell.”

Before they became famous, this kind of behavior would be all but assumed at a restaurant in their country, especially a self-service place like a meat restaurant. After becoming the world stars they are today, it isn’t always the case. Restaurant owners want to put their best foot forward to impress them and use their signatures on the wall to draw in more visitors from social media. It is common to be showered with plates of gifts and endless offers to refill drinks. Wait staff feel this same pressure, or sometimes are genuine fans hoping to take advantage at the chance for a personal interaction.

It’s been a busy new year, Seokjin elaborated to excuse the potential rudeness. They just want to relax with a filling meal after a long week. He really shouldn’t have to explain himself for something as small as this, but people talk no matter how tightly you try to keep things under wraps. You never know when someone could assume the wrong intentions and start up whispers. They didn’t work so hard to maintain a respectable, professional view in the public eye just to ruin it over something as small as a Valentine’s date at a slightly above average barbecue restaurant off Apgujeong Rodeo Drive.

“Jungkook-ah, is it good?” Seokjin asks rhetorically. Jungkook’s wriggling in his seat, mouth still chewing but hands ready to create the next perfect bite.

“Delicious,” his boyfriend answers simply.

Alone at last, Seokjin reaches out to run his hand along the round curve of the back of Jungkook’s head and down along the thick muscles of his neck. “Eat a lot, then.”

Seokjin hurriedly steals a bite of pork belly from the grill, only dipping the end of it into some seasoning salt before popping it into his mouth. Eventually, he will yield to Jungkook and allow the younger man to finish all the pork belly, but for now he secures a taste for himself.

“Let hyung make you a wrap, okay? What do you want?” He asks as he grabs a curly leaf of lettuce.

Jungkook’s eyebrows are furrowed as he surveys the multitude of side dishes and sauces spread across the table before them. “Surprise me.”

He gets to work arranging a perfectly browned piece of pork, green onion kimchi, and some ssamjang on the lettuce. Seokjin wraps it up carefully and holds the pinched-together ends of it between his fingers. He guides the bite towards Jungkook’s mouth and instructs, “Say ah, Jungkook-ah, ah.”

Jungkook leans in obediently, willing to accept the wrap from Seokjin’s hand without question. This is the kind of reaction Seokjin only gets when they’re alone, and Jungkook is hungry enough to focus solely on the food. If any of their friends were here, the other members or even their company’s staff members, Jungkook would put up a fight and try to grab the food out of Seokjin’s hand. Men shouldn’t feed each other or some other nonsense he’d say to act offended. I’m not a baby, hyung if he’s in one of those moods. Sometimes they pick at each other just for the sake of fighting, even when they’re alone.

Seokjin places the wrap in Jungkook’s open mouth, fingers lingering to help push in the excess lettuce perhaps with a bit more force than necessary. Jungkook jerks his head away like he’s grossed out by the action, but his face is instantly pursed in a pout, cheeks bulged out to accommodate the food and eyebrows pinched together as he chews and chews. Seokjin brings a bite of meat to his own mouth as he watches Jungkook resume rocking in his chair.

“Good?”

Jungkook nods avidly. “Good.”

They finish up the rest of the meat comfortably, dropping in and out of conversation as the topics pop into their heads. Several minutes later, Jungkook selects a bright green chili pepper and dunks it into the ssamjang before taking a bite off the end. He dips it again and holds the pepper up to Seokjin’s lips, trading off like this until Jungkook dips the final portion and feeds it to Seokjin. Seokjin can see the gears turning in his boyfriend's mind as he intently watches Seokjin chew and swallow the pepper.

“What do you want?” Seokjin finally asks when he’s taken a sip of wine and Jungkook still hasn’t spoken up.

Jungkook smacks his lips once. “You know what would be good right now?” Seokjin hums to show he’s listening. “Doenjang-jjigae.”

“Okay, I got it,” Seokjin chuckles. He reaches to the end of the table to press the call button. “Anything else while they’re here?”

Jungkook’s eyes glance at the grill where there’s only a few pieces of meat left.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin answers before Jungkook even opens his mouth. 

The door opens and the young man from earlier steps in. “Yes, Seokjin-nim.”

“One doenjang-jjigae and two more plates of pork belly, please,” he instructs.

The waiter dips his head with another yes, Seokjin-nim and moves to back out of the door.

“By any chance,” Seokjin starts and the waiter perks up, hands still on the door handle. Seokjin tilts his head, clasps his hands together near his face, and lilts his voice up a bit. “Could you throw in two bowls of butter-soy-sauce rice, please?”

Jungkook catches on quickly and leans forward, one hand on Seokjin’s shoulder. “Mm, please give us some rice,” he begs cutely. Seokjin isn’t looking, but he doesn’t need to be. He knows Jungkook’s eyes are wide and glittering in the dim overhead lights. 

The waiter smiles and dips his head shyly. Seokjin empathizes with him; he’s on the receiving end of that aegyo often enough. “Of course, Jungkook-nim. Anything else?”

At this, Seokjin turns his head to face Jungkook. He shakes his head no, so Seokjin turns back to the waiter. “That’s all. Thank you,” he dismisses.

He and Jungkook finish off the last pieces of meat, and a minute later two waiters return, the second one holding their bubbling bowl of jjigae. She places the earthenware dish and two steel rice bowls on the table between them with a moony-eyed look before quietly shuffling out of the room. The original waiter resumes his place at the grill, wiping it with a fresh layer of fat and placing the slabs of meat down.

Jungkook removes the lid from his bowl and digs out a hearty spoonful of rice, dunking the spoon in the soup bowl to soak the rice in a bit of broth. “Ah, hyung,” Jungkook starts, mouth full of rice, “is there a reason you chose this place today?”

Seokjin sees the waiter glance at them furtively, clearly curious. “I heard good things from your 97-line friend, that Seventeen guy,” Seokjin answers. And he said the room was very private with a romantic view, he keeps to himself.

“Ah, Mingyu!” Jungkook gestures at the table with his spoon enthusiastically. “That’s right, Mingyu came here.”

They talk about Jungkook’s friends while their meat finishes cooking, surface level stuff that they don’t really mind being overheard. Jungkook recaps a night a few weeks ago that Mingyu spent the night at his place after playing around with several TikTok dances and rounds of PUBG. Seokjin listens with his hand on the back of Jungkook’s chair, thumb just barely brushing the fluffy texture of Jungkook’s knit sweater. As close to contact as Seokjin is comfortable displaying in front of an audience.

When the waiter leaves them with their freshly cooked meat once again, Seokjin scoots himself closer to rest his hand on Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook pays him no mind, accepting the comfortable affection as he dives for the meat on the grill.

“Yah, yah, careful,” Seokjin warns, “it’s hot.”

Jungkook pauses with the meat just inside his lips. He looks at Seokjin, removes the meat from his mouth, gives a cursory hoo-hoo to cool the meat before sticking it right back into his mouth. Seokjin tries and fails to hold back a smile at the water pooling instantly in Jungkook’s eyes despite the cool act he puts on.

“I told you so,” he taunts.

“It’s good,” Jungkook retorts. He reaches for a lettuce leaf, quickly fills it with a piece of pork and some kimchi before bringing it up to Seokjin’s mouth. Seokjin backs his head away, refusing out of principle, but Jungkook brings his free hand up to hold the nape of his neck, using his strength to prevent escape. Relenting, Seokjin opens his mouth for his boyfriend to shove the lettuce wrap in. “Try it, it’s good.”

The wrestling stalled long enough for the meat not to scald his tongue, but it’s still piping hot, sensation piling onto the spiciness of the kimchi enough to make him chew with his mouth open, gasping little breaths of air to try and cool his tongue. Jungkook giggles and continues eating like nothing happened.

When they’re done eating with not a single piece of meat or grain of rice left at the table, Seokjin pushes Jungkook out the front door for a smoke break while he settles the bill at the register. He hastily leaves his signature on the sheet of white paper thrust upon himself and pockets his wallet before leaving. Jungkook, standing several meters away from the entrance, shoves his vape in his jeans pocket to jog up to Seokjin as soon as he steps out of the front door.

“I asked them to get the car already,” Jungkook explains as they step over to the valet booth.

Barely a minute later, they settle in the car and Seokjin drives them back across the river to his place. After years of knowing Jungkook, Seokjin knows to expect a quiet ride home. He’s got a ballad playlist on with the volume low. The heat is turned up just enough to get that toasty feeling. Jungkook verbally threatens to fall asleep from the food coma twice before delivering on his promise and knocking out with the seat levered all the way back. Seokjin lets him have it even though he wants to tease Jungkook for dozing off in the car after a meal like a toddler, belly heavy with food and eyes lulled by the soft lights diffused over the smooth surface of the Han River. They’ve had a hectic few months, only getting busier as their comeback date looms closer and closer. 

The drive, despite the evening traffic on Hannam Bridge, is relatively short, but Jungkook’s honed ability to fall asleep in an instant is yet another reason why they call him Golden Maknae. He thought Jungkook was awakened by the bright lights in the underground parking garage, but his boyfriend is still lounging against the headrest with his mouth agape when he shuts the engine off.

“Jungkook-ah, we’re here,” he murmurs. Jungkook still hasn’t moved by the time he’s gathered his bag and keys to get out. He speaks up a bit louder. “Yah, JK.”

Jungkook jerks his head up, eyes barely open as he looks around the dark interior of Seokjin’s car. He smacks his lips once, twice. “Mm?”

“We’re here,” Seokjin chuckles. He smacks Jungkook’s thigh once before turning to exit the car.

Jungkook eventually catches up with him at the elevator before Seokjin can close the doors on him, sleepy eyes lighting up in betrayal when he catches Seokjin mashing the close door button. He slips between the doors with barely a brush to the shoulders.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines as he bodily presses Seokjin towards the corner. Seokjin reacts quickly, arms up in defense and legs braced against the weight of Jungkook’s body. They wrestle with a vigor that would be embarrassing if another resident stopped the elevator and saw Jungkook using both hands and all of his body weight to shove Seokjin against the wall and the older man doing everything in his power to prevent that from happening. 

Jungkook doesn’t let up until they reach the top of the highrise and the elevator doors glide open. Then, like a switch was flipped, Jungkook is out the doors and down the hallway, calling, “I’m gonna lock you out!” over his shoulder.

Seokjin breaks into a sprint. “Yah, this piece of–” 

But Jungkook is standing in the open doorway giggling happily as Seokjin makes his way through the door with nothing stopping him. “Just kidding.”

“Shut the damn door,” Seokjin gripes, affecting more anger than he actually feels. He mumbles to himself about ungratefulness and respecting elders while he slips his shoes off and haphazardly kicks them into the space under the shoe cabinet. Despite his earlier defiance, Jungkook shuts the door easily as Seokjin makes his way down the hall to the kitchen. “Take those boots off and sit your ass on the couch, hyung’s trying to have a romantic evening.”

The obedience is gone in an instant. Jungkook spends five seconds unzipping and neatly setting aside his boots and eagerly trails behind him. “There’s more? Not just dinner?”

“Of course, not just dinner,” Seokjin scolds, “it’s Valentine’s.”

Jungkook follows Seokjin around the counter and to the refrigerator. He makes grabby hands at Seokjin’s waist that he promptly bats away.  “We’re not just gonna play some games and fuck?”

Seokjin turns around to face Jungkook without opening the fridge. “You wound me! You think hyung would tell you to dress up, we’re going on a date and all I’ve got planned is meat and sex?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to interject, but Seokjin starts up again before he can get a word in edgewise. “You’re dating a handsome, rich, grown man and all you expect from him is a wine and dine? You’re dating world wide handsome guy, you know? Jungkookie, have some respect.”

“Yes, hyung-nim,” Jungkook says. Seokjin doesn’t take the response as genuine remorse; he knows better after years of working together.

Jungkook reaches out once again to grab at Seokjin’s sides and gets slapped away. “I told you to go sit on the couch!”

With another yes, haeng-nim, Jungkook retreats to the couch. From his viewpoint in the kitchen, Seokjin waits for the younger man to sprawl across the corner of the sofa and start scrolling through his phone before he turns back to the refrigerator. Seokjin retrieves the nondescript white box from the middle shelf and sets it on the counter. He removes the cake from its box and sets to work stabbing an entire package of sparklers around the circumference of the cake, following the gentle swirl of the icing on the edge. As a final touch, he sticks the single heart-shaped candle in the center then carefully takes the bottle of Krug he’s been saving from the cooler beneath the counter.

“Jungkook-ah,” he calls into the living room. Jungkook makes a light eh? sound from the couch. “Turn the lights off, please.”

Jungkook stands from the couch and flips all the switches while Seokjin quickly lights all the sparklers on the cake, nearly burning himself when he tries to return the heart to its place in the center.

When he looks up, Jungkook is still standing, now in the space between the living room and kitchen, looking curiously at the blaze of fire haphazardly cradled in one of Seokjin’s hands.

“What’s this? What’s this?” Jungkook repeats.

Seokjin quickly steps around the counter and into the living room, his boyfriend following behind as he carefully sets the cake on the low table in front of the TV. He takes in the look of wonder on Jungkook’s face, mouth dropped open slightly and eyes rounded just enough at the ends to accentuate his aegyosal like it’s the first time he’s seen something like it. The flaring of the sparklers twinkles in the glossy depths of Jungkook’s pupils, Seokjin’s own personal firework show.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, yeobo,” Seokjin says. 

He places the bottle of champagne a safe distance from the explosive cake in favor of grabbing his boyfriend instead. Jungkook comes easily, letting himself be pulled into Seokjin’s arms for a lingering kiss, Seokjin’s hands coming up to bracket the younger man’s neck and hold him in place.

“Hyung, too,” Jungkook giggles when they separate.

Seokjin smooths his hand along the back of Jungkook’s head, gently pressing the wayward tufts of black hair from lounging on the couch back into place, then pats his boyfriend’s shoulder twice. “Go get us some glasses while I open the champagne.”

Jungkook jogs two steps across the room and vaults himself over the back of the couch like a hurdles runner, socked-feet thumping on the ground when he lands dexterously on the other side. Seokjin can’t even pretend to be annoyed as he grabs the champagne bottle from the table. He removes the foil and carefully twists the cork out, holding the bottle at an angle against his hip to avoid making a mess of his living room rug. The cork pops out with a gentle hiss just as Jungkook returns with two matching tumblers, one pink and one blue.

Seokjin levels his boyfriend with a look, eyes narrowed and one eyebrow raised. “Are you joking?”

Jungkook looks down at the tumblers in his hands, eyes wide as saucers. “What?”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Seokjin starts, revving up for another firm talking-to, “that we are having a romantic evening? We are not drinking my good champagne out of metal tumblers with handles and straws.”

“We can drink more this way,” Jungkook explains as Seokjin returns to the kitchen with the tumblers to retrieve two cut glass champagne flutes from the cupboard over the counter instead, a gift from Chef Paik after one of their drinking sessions.

“I’m not trying to get you drunk,” Seokjin retorts. He holds one flute out to Jungkook, now sitting on the sofa, and pours a respectable amount of champagne into each of their glasses.

“You’re not?” Jungkook teases, peering up at Seokjin from where he’s leaned back against the couch cushions. He holds his glass out, waiting for Seokjin to have a seat and tip their glasses together with a delicate clink. They each take a long sip, relishing the zing of fizzy bubbles across their tongues, the sweet-tang of citrusy alcohol.

Seokjin mirrors his position, comfortable against the pillowy back of the sofa. “I don’t need to, do I?” At the pause, Jungkook turns to lock eyes across the small distance between them. “You’ll open your legs for hyung either way, won’t you?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open, just a hair. His body leans into Seokjin like he’s pulled in by a magnet, as if even he isn’t aware of it. He simply says, “Hyung,” voice light and airy.

Seokjin takes another sip of his champagne and pulls away, setting the glass on the table. “Cha, let’s dig into this cake, shall we?”

Jungkook gulps down the rest of the bubbly in his glass as Seokjin reaches for the chopsticks laying beside the cake. 

“Looks good,” the younger man states, smacking his lips.

Seokjin stabs his chopsticks into the side and tears off a chunk, mostly strawberry and cream, and holds it up to Jungkook’s lips. Their eyes meet and Jungkook parts his lips, allowing himself to be fed. His eyes never leave Seokjin’s as the older man guides the dessert into his mouth, free hand cupped underneath Jungkook’s chin in case of crumbs. Jungkook’s lips close around the chopsticks to get every last bit of fresh cream, Seokjin’s fingertips on his chin helping to close his mouth. Jungkook hums softly at the taste.

“It’s from that patisserie near the record store, you like it?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook answers, “Yes, it’s delicious. Hyung.”

“Have some more, then,” Seokjin instructs, leaning forward to pull out the sparklers and rip another chunk off the side.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines again. Seokjin takes his time getting the perfect bite on his chopsticks before turning to his boyfriend. It’s hard to tell sometimes when Jungkook truly needs something, or he is calling their names simply for attention, for the reassurance that someone is listening. Almost like a safety blanket. “We’re preparing for the comeback, you know.”

“Aigoo,” Seokjin starts. He brings his chopsticks to Jungkook’s mouth again, watching as his boyfriend accepts the bite despite his protesting. “Don’t worry about just one piece of cake. You’re pretty.”

A tiny speck of vanilla cream gets smudged on the corner of Jungkook’s mouth. Using his thumb, Seokjin wipes it off and sticks his thumb in his own mouth, catching a taste of the sweet cream. Jungkook’s eyes follow the movement, stuck on Seokjin’s lips even after he’s removed his thumb.

Seokjin finally takes a bite for himself while Jungkook chews. It’s good; the patisserie is well-known across Instagram and even his celebrity friends, who recommended he reserve a cake in advance. The cream has a stronger vanilla flavor than he expected, the vanilla beans imparting that soft, natural flavor that vanilla extract can’t convey. The strawberries are fresh and the shortcake light, making for the perfect balance without being overbearingly sweet.

Jungkook snuggles up against his side as Seokjin savors the cake. He runs his hand down the length of one thigh before smacking just above Seokjin’s cotton-covered knee. Seokjin yelps at the sudden sting, but otherwise remains unbothered. A second later, Jungkook’s hand squeezes along the muscle as if in apology.

“More?” Seokjin asks.

“Just one bite,” Jungkook answers.

Seokjin feeds him another bite of cake, then one more for himself. He sizes Jungkook up, trying to decide if he truly feels guilty for enjoying the dessert or if it’s mostly the pretense of it, complaining for the sake of complaining. Jungkook’s hand is idly toying with the crease of Seokjin’s tan trousers, eyes wide and staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing. Simply existing in the room with Seokjin, waiting to be given instructions or for nothing at all.

“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin calls and waits for Jungkook to turn his head just slightly, not fully looking in Seokjin’s direction but showing he’s listening, “Want more champagne?”

Jungkook sits up, bobbing his head in three quick nods. Seokjin pours them both another glass and watches as Jungkook drinks half of it in one go.

“Drink slowly. You should savor the wine,” Seokjin chides. “Do you want more cake?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I like the feeling of the champagne in my tummy,” he explains.

“I’ll put it away then.”

Seokjin brings the cake to the kitchen. He takes one last bite for himself and tidies up, disposing of the sparklers and tucking the cake neatly back into its box. He leaves the dirty chopsticks in the sink for later and fills an ice bucket with the ready made ice from the freezer. When he returns to the living space, Jungkook has finished off his second glass. Jungkook holds his glass out to Seokjin expectantly, lips turned up at the corners and eyes sparkling.

“Yah, what am I, your maid?” Regardless of his annoyed tone, Seokjin sets the bucket aside and grabs Jungkook’s glass to fill it for him. Instead of handing the flute of champagne back to his boyfriend, Seokjin brings it to Jungkook’s lips himself, one hand beneath Jungkook’s chin, the other tilting the glass to Jungkook’s lips. “Drink up, baby.”

Jungkook brings one hand up to grip Seokjin’s wrist, not pulling the glass away, just touching. Seokjin looks down at his boyfriend, watching him as he accepts the fizzy drink. Jungkook’s eyes, pillowed by that endearing eye fat, pupils blown wide in the dim light seeping in from the kitchen; the gentle grip on his wrist, fingers soft and warm; Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes languorous sip after languorous sip; the open, accepting expression on his face. Jungkook plays the part of bratty younger brother often enough, but it’s all for moments like this where he can let go of responsibility and take what is given to him by his hyungs. Equal parts bold and soft, that exact duality that draws millions of fans into his orbit.

“Aigoo, you’re doing well,” Seokjin praises. Jungkook takes a deep breath when the glass is removed from his lips. “So good.”

Jungkook chases after the glass, still half full, but Seokjin pulls it away. He brings it to his own lips instead, letting the sweet taste hit his tongue, tilting his head back to down what’s left in the glass. Seokjin looks down on Jungkook, catching the dark look in his eyes as he watches Seokjin drink. His movements are intentional; Seokjin knows his angles, knows when and how he looks best after years of media training, years surrounded by other idols.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says. He shifts on the sofa, knees spreading just a touch wider.

Seokjin ignores him. Instead, he turns towards the back of the house where his bedroom is. He hears shuffling from behind, and when he turns around, Jungkook is standing from the sofa. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin calls, “sit down.” He waits until Jungkook is once again seated on the couch. “Hyung has one more present to give you.”

When he returns, he turns the corner lamp on, making Jungkook squint and cringe into the cushions like he’s been burned. Seokjin resumes his spot on the couch beside his boyfriend while Jungkook slowly opens his eyes to the light.

“Here,” Seokjin says, holding the box out in front of Jungkook, “open it.”

Jungkook takes the melon-colored leather box from his hands and promptly shakes it. Seokjin squawks, making Jungkook laugh before he finally opens the case. He pulls the necklace out by its thin, white gold chain.

“You have so many thick chains, but I’ve been thinking that something a little more delicate would suit you.” Seokjin watches for a second as Jungkook dangles the necklace from his fingers, observing the hanging heart pendant as it twists back and forth. “You can layer it with one of your shorter chains and it would look nice, too.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook interrupts his nervous rambling. “Don’t lie. They sent you this as PR.”

Seokjin balks at the accusation. “I can’t believe this! I picked it out myself. Look,” he grabs the necklace out of Jungkook’s hands and holds the pendant up so the light shines through the center onto his hand behind it. There, shining through the necklace onto the palm of Seokjin’s hand, is the message: I ♡ you.

“Put it on me,” Jungkook requests. He turns so his back is facing Seokjin.

Seokjin unclasps the necklace and brings it to lay gently on Jungkook’s sternum. He carefully hooks the loop in the clasp and pets the shorts hairs on the nape of Jungkook’s neck once his hands are free. “There you go.”

Jungkook turns around, gazing at the heart resting on his chest and fingers tracing the diamonds set along the outline of the heart. “It’s pretty.”

Seokjin pulls his boyfriend into his arms, pressing Jungkook’s head to rest in the crook of his shoulder. They fit like puzzle pieces laser cut to be next to each other. He shifts back just enough to press his lips to Jungkook’s temple. “Do you like it?”

“It feels like I’m yours,” Jungkook states. His voice sounds pleased, though Seokjin can’t see his face.

“Good,” Seokjin says, squeezing Jungkook, smoothing the hair on the side of his head. “Because you are.”

Jungkook squirms again, reminiscent of earlier with the champagne. “Hyung.”

“Do you want to?” Seokjin asks, pulling away so he can see Jungkook’s face clearly, hands still resting on his shoulders. The younger man nods. “Then go to the bedroom. Hyung needs to clean up first.”

Obediently, Jungkook stands and strides quickly to the bedroom. There isn’t really anything that needs to be cleaned–he stored the cake in the fridge earlier and the champagne is fine for now in the ice–but he wants to let the anticipation build for both of them. He collects the glasses and brings them to the sink just for the sake of doing something, letting the sounds of rinsing and soaping up the glasses echo down the hall for Jungkook to hear. When the glasses are clean and resting on the drying rack, Seokjin towels his hands dry and heads down the hallway himself.

Inside the bedroom, Jungkook is perched at the foot of the bed, feet turned inwards and hands resting politely in his lap. 

“I didn’t take my clothes off because hyung didn’t tell me to,” Jungkook quietly explains without Seokjin asking.

“Alright,” Seokjin allows, though he doesn’t pay Jungkook much attention. Rather than walking up to Jungkook, he turns towards his dressing table at the side of the room. He removes his rings and places them in the center to be wiped and stored in their respective boxes later. Next, he removes the tan jacket that matches his pants and drapes it over the back of the chair. Finally, Seokjin steps up to Jungkook, looking down at him on the bed.

He breaks character for a moment. “You know you don’t owe me for the jewelry, right?”

There’s an acknowledging look in Jungkook’s eyes, the slight twitch of a smile before he schools his features into a wide-eyed, mouth agape look, affecting innocence. “But hyung,” Jungkook starts, placing his hands on Seokjin’s hips, “you’ve done so much for me today. Dinner, dessert, that yummy champagne, the necklace. I haven’t done anything for you.”

Seokjin snorts. “All you wanted to do was eat and fuck. I hardly have to do anything and you give it to me.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook agrees. Easy, so easy. He leans forwards, resting his chin on Seokjin’s pelvic bone. “I’ll always give it to you.”

Seokjin reaches out to smooth a hand around the curve of Jungkook’s head, brushing his bangs from his forehead, fingers running through thick hair before resting at the back of his head, hand resting comfortably at the point where neck meets skull. He smiles and says, “You’re so easy.”

Jungkook nods rapidly. His hands move to tuck the tips of his fingers in the waistband of Seokjin’s slacks, preparing to undo the clasps at the front as he repeats, “Easy, I’m easy.”

A rush of power surges through Seokjin at his boyfriend’s eagerness, how quickly Jungkook is ready to give in to him. All it took was a few words and teasing touches. Seokjin slides his hands slowly along Jungkook’s arms, stopping when he can clasp his hands around Jungkook’s. With a disapproving mm-mm, he tugs Jungkook’s hands out of his pants. “You know what hyung wants?”

Jungkook shakes his head mutely.

“Hyung wants to play with his boy,” Seokjin states. “Give me a kiss first.”

Jungkook leans up to press his front against Seokjin and lock their lips together. He’s messy already, tongue lapping at Seokjin’s bottom lip, mouth open. His weight is resting on Seokjin like he needs his hyung just to stay upright. Seokjin mirrors his enthusiasm for a moment, indulging.

Then, he orders Jungkook, “Take your pants off and lay on the bed.”

His boyfriend complies immediately, reaching down to unbutton his jeans and tug both his jeans and briefs down his legs. 

Seokjin corrects him quickly. “I said pants only.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Jungkook apologizes quietly. He rights both items, then slips his fingers so only his jeans come down with them this time. With a brief pause to check for Seokjin’s approval, Jungkook steps out of the denim pooled on the floor and spreads himself on top of the bed, head resting in the pillows and feet stretched out towards Seokjin. Already, his knees are knocked open to allow Seokjin an unobstructed view up smooth, hairless legs right to the core of him, covered only by the gray cotton of his Calvin’s.

“Love this outfit on you,” Seokjin compliments, kneeling at the foot of the bed. He slides his hands from the tops of Jungkook’s cute feet to his ankles in order to pull Jungkook’s legs farther apart.

Predictably, Jungkook aids the movement, allowing Seokjin ample room to shuffle between them. “Yeah? I got inspiration from one of those ‘boyfriend heart attack’ reels on Instagram. Said the angora sweater would make touching me irresistible.”

Seokjin hums in acknowledgement, bringing one hand up to toy with the fuzzy yarn of Jungkook’s sweater. “That was a slutty choice, picking something to make me touch you more. But there’s something sluttier.”

A high-pitched questioning sound comes from Jungkook’s throat, accompanied with a tilt of his head, hair smearing against the pillow. The way Seokjin knows it’s not false innocence but Jungkook’s natural cuteness makes Seokjin want to bite the first part of his boyfriend’s body his teeth can reach. Pushing down the urge, he drags his hands up Jungkook’s splayed thighs to rest at the hem of his briefs in the junction where hip meets thigh. “Was the gray underwear part of the Instagram reel, too? So hyung can see just how wet you are?”

Jungkook squeals and tries to clamp his legs together, but Seokjin is faster, holding them open. “Didn’t mean to. Just wanted my underwear to match my sweater, really.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t to show hyung this slutty hole?” His words are accompanied by his hand cupping between Jungkook’s legs over the center of him. Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed like Seokjin’s touch is a soothing balm to his burning skin. Seokjin can feel the heat radiating from inside the damp fabric.

“Did it work?” Jungkook asks, eyes still closed. He rocks his hips into the heel of Seokjin’s hand.

Seokjin replies, “Did what work?”

“Heart. Attack,” he pauses between each syllable for emphasis. Slowly, he opens his eyes and searches for Seokjin’s gaze. “Did it work?”

Seokjin looms over Jungkook, shifting his weight forward to press his hardening cock into Jungkook’s hips. There’s just enough time to observe his boyfriend’s pleased gasp before Seokjin kisses him, parting Jungkook’s lips so their tongues can meet in the middle. Jungkook moans and wraps his arms around Seokjin’s neck, holding him in place as they absorb the feeling of each other.

After a while, Seokjin separates their mouths in favor of watching the exposed skin as he pushes Jungkook’s sweater up his chest. He thumbs at both of Jungkook’s tiny nipples, chuckling when his boyfriend twitches at the stimulation.

“I said I wanted to play with you, right?” Seokjin pauses to wait for Jungkook’s agreeing hum. He smooths his hands down Jungkook’s sides, over the waistband of his briefs, stopping when his hands once again rest in the crease of Jungkook’s hips. With both thumbs, he caresses over the visible wet spot in Jungkook’s underwear. “I wanna start here.”

Jungkook lifts his hands to tangle lightly in Seokjin’s hair. He questions, “Will you put your mouth on it?” 

Seokjin settles himself further between Jungkook’s legs, resting on his elbows so his face is closer to where he can tell Jungkook wants him most. “Want me to?”

Just a short nod, a quick jerk of Jungkook’s head is all he gets. The sweet thing. Seokjin will eat him. He leans down slowly, oh so slowly, sticking his tongue out for Jungkook to know exactly what he plans to do. When Seokjin’s tongue makes contact with Jungkook’s clit through his underwear, just a short lick across the fabric, Jungkook drops his head into the pillows with a relieved sigh.

“Good?” Seokjin speaks into the quiet of the room. Jungkook breathes a quiet hyung in response. His fingers twitch in Seokjin’s dark hair, but he knows better than to tug. Seokjin presses a short kiss to Jungkook’s pelvic bone in reward for the restraint. 

Seokjin flattens his tongue over Jungkook’s pussy, pressing his tongue into the fabric to soak it with his saliva and get a taste of that wetness he spied earlier. The taste is muted through the dry, cottony feel of Jungkook’s underwear, but it’s sweet. That sort of tangy saltiness that shouldn’t taste good but has Seokjin’s mouth watering when it’s right in front of him. His to taste and touch how he likes. Like a late night snack that compels you to eat the entire bag without realizing.

He circles his lips around what should be Jungkook’s clit and sucks, laving his tongue over the dampening fabric. The more he plays, the wetter Jungkook’s briefs become, both with his spit and the sweetness of Jungkook’s pussy. It’s addictive, the way Seokjin can barely get a taste of the sweetness before Jungkook’s briefs soak it up. He digs his thumbs into the hinge of Jungkook’s thighs and flattens his tongue down over Jungkook’s hole, trying to get as close as possible despite the barrier between them.

Jungkook is making soft little noises above him, hips squirming left and right, trying to thrust into Seokjin’s mouth but simultaneously knowing he shouldn’t. “Hyung, please,” he speaks, voice barely above a whisper.

“Already?” Seokjin taunts him. 

Jungkook simply repeats himself. “Please.”

Chuckling, Seokjin relents and pulls Jungkook’s briefs down his legs, sliding them all the way off with the help of Jungkook curling his legs up to his chest. As soon as Jungkook’s ankles are free from the material, Jungkook drops his legs open to each side, wider than before.

Seokjin has no choice but to dive back in. He uses both thumbs to spread Jungkook’s pussy lips open, watching the warm, tan skin unfurl to expose the rosy, pink center, shining in the glow of the city through the windows. Seokjin gets his tongue on it, licking from the bottom of Jungkook’s entrance to collect the slick up to his clit. Jungkook moans and spreads his knees wider, finally having skin to mouth contact.

His boyfriend is quite worked up already, Seokjin can tell by the amount of wetness on his tongue and the sensitive twitch in Jungkook’s legs after only a few swipes. Still, Jungkook’s not wet enough for what Seokjin wants, so he lets the saliva pool on his tongue before licking across Jungkook’s opening again.

The noises coming from Seokjin’s mouth are obscene, a soundtrack that would make it obvious what they’re doing if they weren’t alone in the apartment. Seokjin latches his mouth onto Jungkook’s clit, starting to swell from all the attention, the perfect mouthful to get his lips around and suck. 

Jungkook’s sounds pick up, reacting audibly to the continued attention to his most sensitive area. His fingers tighten in Seokjin’s hair, hips rocking absentmindedly, and Seokjin pushes more weight onto his boyfriend to keep him in place. 

“Hyung, hyung,” Jungkook chants. Without saying anything, Seokjin knows he’s close.

Mm? Seokjin calls out, unwilling to separate himself from Jungkook’s pussy to talk.

Incoherently, Jungkook responds, “Uh– hyung, ah–” voice climbing in volume as he gets closer and closer before crashing, body tensing and then all at once collapsing into the mattress.

Only then does Seokjin remove his mouth from Jungkook’s clit to give his fingers room to pet at Jungkook’s entrance, slipping one finger in to test the wetness followed by another when Jungkook is slippery enough.

“Oh, f–” Jungkook moans, body tensing up again without an opportunity to come down from his orgasm.

Seokjin drives his fingers into Jungkook, curling his fingers on the way out, trying to find that perfect angle. Jungkook’s body responds by clenching up and his voice only gets louder, moaning with each thrust of Seokjin’s fingers until finally the dam breaks and Jungkook squirts. Seokjin pulls his fingers out instantly so Jungkook’s juices flow in two quick bursts from his pussy to soak into the bedspread below.

“There it is,” Seokjin soothes, working his relatively clean hand up and down Jungkook’s thigh. “So easy.”

Jungkook whines, whether at the taunt or Seokjin’s thumb rubbing carefully over the bud of his clit. “Hyung.”

“Uh?” Seokjin answers, but Jungkook has nothing to say, simply breathing heavily on the bedsheets. It suits Seokjin just fine; he wants to play with his boyfriend a little more.

He slips two fingers back into Jungkook’s core, working them unhurriedly inside, feeling the spongy wetness of Jungkook’s walls around him. It’s a feeling like nothing Seokjin can describe, the warm clutch of it, almost slimy. It should be gross. Instead, Seokjin admires the sticky sound of the palm of his hand connecting and separating with Jungkook’s core, the way Jungkook’s body shapes itself to fit so perfectly around Seokjin’s fingers, swollen but accommodating. He holds his fingers inside Jungkook and rocks his entire hand up into Jungkook’s pussy, relishing the wet, sucking sounds and Jungkook’s shocked gasps at the stimulation.

“Should I give you another like this?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook replies softly but petulantly, “No.”

“No?” Seokjin repeats in shock. He removes his hand from Jungkook and lands a light slap on his clit. Jungkook jolts at the sharp sensation. “Is that how you talk to me?”

“Hyung-nim,” his boyfriend whines, wiggling in the sheets. “Want it inside.”

“Mm?” Seokjin feigns a confused tone, as if he’s talking to a cantankerous child. He drags the tips of his fingers through the wetness dripping from the entrance of Jungkook’s cunt. “My fingers were inside and you told me no.”

Jungkook squirms again and makes a fed-up noise. “Not your fingers, you know what I mean.”

Another slap to the rapidly reddening skin of Jungkook’s clit. Jungkook cries out and Seokjin can see his boyfriend’s entrance contracting around nothing, sensitive from the stinging pain and desperate for something inside. Seokjin doesn’t want to give it to him just yet.

Instead, he sits up to allow enough room to pull the cream-colored t-shirt over his head and throw it to the side. Jungkook watches hungrily as he stands to remove his slacks, briefs, and socks, dropping them all to lay in a pile with his shirt. Then he climbs back onto the bed, back between Jungkook’s thighs.

He places his hands on Jungkook’s soft sweater. “Hot?”

“It’s warm,” Jungkook contradicts. 

So Seokjin leaves the gray sweater in place, making Jungkook look like a soft angel alight on the bed, diamonds glimmering where the necklace shifted on his collarbone. Soft eyes, soft sweater, soft cunt, pink and drooling and totally hairless. Not a single strand of hair below Jungkook’s neck; it either hardly grows at all or he removes it the second it can be detected, laser or wax or plucking if that’s what it takes. It makes his skin uninterruptedly smooth and Seokjin loves running his hands across the expanse of skin. In the moment, he ghosts his hands from Jungkook’s taut stomach to his strong thighs.

The look on Jungkook’s face when Seokjin finally wraps a hand around his stiff cock endears Seokjin, like the cat that got the cream. He thinks he’s got it, anyway. Seokjin adjusts their bodies so Jungkook’s thighs are layered over his own, allowing their hips closer, the angle easier for Seokjin to glide the tip of his cock along Jungkook’s wet entrance. Jungkook’s too excited, clenches up before Seokjin can even think about slipping inside.

Seokjin smirks. “Relax, baby,” he soothes.

With fingers curled around the base of his cock, Seokjin rubs the tip across Jungkook’s cunt, entranced by the way Jungkook’s slick smears across the head. He does it again and again, rubbing from the entrance to kiss at Jungkook’s clit, pulling away to watch Jungkook’s opening clench around nothing, repeat. The wetness he can hear pooling where their bodies meet is insane. No matter how long they’ve been together, Seokjin will never get used to the way Jungkook absolutely gushes. Slick, squirt, even piss the rare occasion when Seokjin can convince Jungkook to get extra dirty.

“This what you wanted?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook nods his head, mouth open to give a peek of his little pink tongue. “Yes, hyung.”

The corners of Seokjin’s lips curl up into a small smile. He thrusts his cock along Jungkook’s entrance, not going inside but gliding along the slick opening up to his clit. Seokjin uses his hand to hold his cock along the length of his boyfriend and fuck between his lips, never entering. Jungkook hasn’t caught on yet, eyes closed to take in the feeling each time the head of Seokjin’s cock nudges at the swollen head of his clit, nudging up along the underside where it’s most sensitive, smudging his wetness between them.

Seokjin guides the tip of his cock to squish against Jungkook’s clit, holding his cock higher up the shaft to guide it in a circle before resuming the slip-slide fucking against Jungkook’s entrance. Jungkook’s moans only grow louder, mouth open in bliss as Seokjin continues to provide friction along his pink pussy.

He releases his cock to slip two fingers into Jungkook. Effortlessly, Seokjin finds the right curve of his fingers, the right angle to thrust to punch moans out of his boyfriend with each movement. Just as Jungkook starts to come, Seokjin removes his fingers and brings his cock to Jungkook’s pussy, working the head of it back and forth over Jungkook’s clit until he’s squirting again, the rapid motion of Seokjin’s cock spraying the wetness everywhere. He watches it uncontrollably leak from Jungkook and land on their thighs, Jungkook’s clenched stomach, the sheets below. The wet spot below them spreads beyond where Seokjin can see its edges.

Just when Jungkook’s cunt stops gushing on them, Seokjin angles his cock down and finally slides in, the copious slick allowing him to glide in all the way. Jungkook gasps like he’s been stabbed, voice a breathless falsetto as he tries to come down from his high with Seokjin’s cock bullying deeper.

The rhythmic clenching of Jungkook’s walls around Seokjin’s cock feels like heaven after bringing his boyfriend to orgasm twice, fully focused on Jungkook and neglecting his own pleasure. It causes Seokjin to pause, buried as deep as he can go, and close his eyes, hands gripping Jungkook’s hips and breathing in the damp musk of sex in the air. He feels Jungkook’s hands trail down his wrists and turns his palms upwards so they can clasp their hands together.

“So easy to just slide right in,” Seokjin says. When he opens his eyes, Jungkook’s glassy eyes are already on him. His dark hair is wavy with perm, thin strands plastered along his hairline, his temples, framing his flushed face. A siren in the sea’s foamy mist. The deep blush on his cheeks, the warm coral of his lips, the dewy sheen of sweat across his skin. He’s like a ripe peach ready to be bitten. “Never need lube with a cunt this wet.”

 “It’s for you,” Jungkook mumbles.

Seokjin thrusts his hips forward, feeling the way Jungkook’s body has relaxed to let him in. “Damn right it is.”

He uses their clasped hands as leverage to fuck into Jungkook with a quick pace. At this angle, with Jungkook’s hips tilted up to rest nearly in Seokjin’s lap, it won’t take long before he’s coming again, and Seokjin chases it single-mindedly. Each thrust punches a throaty sound from Jungkook’s lips, pussy so swollen and sensitive it must be overwhelming.

At the tell-tale feeling of Jungkook’s walls clamping down on him, Seokjin pulls back, cock practically pushed out as one harsh hiss of squirt gushes from Jungkook’s pussy. Jungkook’s body is tense and straining, hips raised off the bed to give Seokjin clear sight of his clenching hole, then drops limply to the bed in the next second. Seokjin lets Jungkook’s hands slide down to his sides. Instead, he leans forward on one hand and uses the other to guide himself back inside.

He drops down to his elbows, bracketing Jungkook’s face between his arms to lean down for an open-mouthed kiss. Jungkook’s eyes are closed, facial muscles lax so his mouth is left agape, moist breaths puffing out between his lips. 

“Are you gonna take it?” Seokjin asks, barely expecting an answer.

To his surprise, Jungkook smacks his lips together on a swallow and replies, “It’s mine.”

He feels Jungkook’s hands gripping his butt as he starts thrusting, Jungkook’s nails digging into the muscle there to pull him in. The angle is different, the sensation perhaps not as sharp for Jungkook as it was before, but his eyebrows are scrunched together like the feeling is an assault on his senses regardless.

It doesn’t take much for Seokjin after that. The evening of teasing and touching, the effervescent feeling of the wine, the sticky dampness cementing them together from stomach to thigh. Jungkook’s pussy is a vice around him, so abused and sensitive it’s a wonder he can even move inside.

Seokjin takes it all in as he thrusts Jungkook into the bed, looks for the finer details he only gets to see when he’s this close. The spattering of freckles from teenage acne that never quite healed properly. The smooth, shiny tip of Jungkook’s nose, not a pore in sight despite the early skin troubles. The way his lashes, long and straight, clump together with a few errant tears like they know how precious Jungkook’s glassy eyes are to Seokjin and they’re shielding them from the world.

It’s the scent of Jungkook that finally does it for him; his clean soapy smell with a hint of artificial sweetness from the vape, masked with the musk of sweat and sex. Seokjin buries his nose in the damp crook of Jungkook’s neck and comes deep inside with a groan. His hips twitch uncontrollably, pushing with an instinct to bury as deep in Jungkook as possible.

Jungkook’s walls clench around him one final time as he moans into Seokjin’s ear, nose pressed into the short hairs above his ear. It only serves to drag out the tingling sensation of Seokjin’s orgasm, the heat of their bodies together as humid as Seoul in July. It feels like home to Seokjin.

They remain still as their chests stop heaving and the haze of sex clears a bit from their eyes. Eventually, Seokjin has to unglue his hips from Jungkook’s to pull out, watching with baited breath as his come oozes out of Jungkook’s gaping entrance. He allows himself a moment to soak in the vision, to daydream of pushing his come back inside, of fucking Jungkook again and again in hopes that it sticks. Then, he shifts his eyes up to take in Jungkook’s condition.

It could be a hit or miss, really, where Jungkook’s mindset is at after a scene like this. Comparatively, the sex wasn’t too strenuous, their roles together nothing unusual or serious, but his words were strong, his focus singular on Jungkook’s pleasure. And it seems his boyfriend may have fallen deep, afterall, judging by the way he’s simply staring at Seokjin in silence.

Seokjin reaches the cleaner hand out to push the sweaty bangs away from Jungkook’s eyes and speaks softly. “Jungkook-ah, you okay?”

Jungkook tucks his chin to his chest in a nod, but remains quiet.

“How was it, hm?” Seokjin probes.

His boyfriend sucks air deep through his nose, taking a moment before answering, “Good. It felt good.”

Seokjin exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Yeah? It was good for me too. Love it when you get messy like that.”

Jungkook whines in displeasure, seemingly realizing now just how big the wet spot beneath them is. He curls his legs into his chest and wraps his arms tight around them. “Wanna shower now.”

Seokjin presses a kiss to the top of Jungkook’s foot before standing at the side of the bed. “Let hyung help you to the shower, then. I’ll clean up in here while you get comfortable.”

Jungkook accepts the hand that Seokjin offers to him. Seokjin helps him stand up on feeble legs, waiting patiently for his muscles to adjust. He sees the moment when Jungkook’s thighs press together at the trickle of wetness dripping down his thighs and chuckles, half in amusement and half in pride. He’s the one that got Jungkook’s toned thighs buckling like a newborn fawn.

“Come on, into the bathroom you go.”

Seokjin lingers in the bathroom as Jungkook starts up the shower long enough to wipe his crotch and thighs clean with a damp towel and wash his hands in the sink. He’ll need a shower later, but it can wait until Jungkook is feeling a little more stable and Seokjin feels comfortable leaving him alone for ten minutes. 

For now, he sets off to remove all the sheets from the mattress he thankfully already covered with a waterproof cover and throws the entire bundle into the washing machine. He retrieves a clean mattress pad and comforter from the hallway closet and quickly makes up the bed. As Jungkook is still in the shower, he warms a pot of hot water in the kettle and splits the boiling water into two hot water bottles when it clicks off thirty seconds later. The first bottle goes beneath the blanket to start warming the bed, the second gets wrapped in the set of pink pajamas he leaves on the bathroom counter in front of the shower. 

By the time he’s set two glasses of water on the bedside table and tidied their dirty clothes into the hamper in the closet, Jungkook is still standing under the spray of hot water. Seokjin figures what the hell and steps in behind his boyfriend. Jungkook, done cleaning, steps behind Seokjin to let him directly under the water and clings to his back while he soaps himself up. When they step out of the shower together, Jungkook does a quick little dance with his feet at the sight of the pajamas laid out for him on the counter.

“Warm undies, warm undies,” he chants as he slides a clean pair of briefs on, followed by the striped-pink buttoned shirt and matching pants.

“I warmed the bed for you, too,” Seokjin calls over his shoulder. He steps into the walk-in closet to find his own fresh underwear and matching pink striped pajamas.

Jungkook looks up at him with a wide smile when he emerges from the closet. “Couples pajamas!”

The dirty talk earlier was exactly that: dirty talk. But there’s a grain of truth to the words. It really is easy to please Jungkook, and Seokjin loves him for it. He doesn’t need an expensive dinner, romantic dessert and wine, or shiny jewelry to bring that wide, open smile to Jungkook’s lips, which makes it all the more pleasing to put in that extra bit of effort for his boyfriend. His reward is to see Jungkook beaming, cheeks fresh and glowing, and giggling happily in his bed.

Seokjin crawls in next to him and draws Jungkook into his arms. Jungkook folds pliantly against Seokjin’s chest, resting his ear directly above Seokjin’s heart so he can listen to its steady beating, the slow inhale-exhale of his breathing.

They lay in comfortable silence. This is one of the few times Seokjin sees his boyfriend this still, this unmoving, when he can listen to his heart like this in the darkness of the bedroom, bodies warm and sated. This, too, is a moment Seokjin cherishes.

Minutes later, Jungkook speaks up. “I got you something, too, you know.”

Seokjin makes a confused hum. He didn’t realize how zoned out he was, listening to the soothing sound of Jungkook’s breathing, his occasional sniffles from being in the shower.

“For Valentine’s Day,” Jungkook elaborates. “It’s in my backpack. Wanna know what it is?”

“Mm. Tell me,” Seokjin says.

“I got you Mario Cart 64, so I can beat your ass in that game, too.”

Seokjin snorts. “You think you can beat me? You weren’t even alive when that game came out. You were still in your dad’s jizz, or whatever it is you said that one time.”

“Hyung! Gross,” Jungkook whines, smacking Seokjin’s chest with one hand. “I got you a few others, too. Majora’s Mask, Ocarina of Time. Doom.”

“Thank you, baby. That’s awesome,” Seokjin starts. He squeezes Jungkook’s shoulders tightly once, brings a hand up to stroke at his air-drying hair. “Let’s play tomorrow? I want to stay like this for a while.”

Jungkook nods, nuzzling his cheek into the soft fabric of Seokjin’s pajamas. “Hyung?”

Seokjin hums.

“Do you love me?” He asks.

“Of course,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook sits up, just slightly. “Will you show me one more time?”

At Seokjin’s blank stare, Jungkook gestures with his chin at the necklace, still dangling from his neck. Seokjin smiles, reaching for his phone to turn on the flashlight.

“Here, lean back.” He waits for Jungkook to lay his back fully on the bed before taking the heart pendant in his hand. He shines the light through the center of the heart, angling the flashlight so the I ♡ You casts a shadow below Jungkook’s collarbone. Jungkook curves his neck, chin doubling up with the awkward angle so he can gaze at the words that appeared on his own chest. Then, he drops his head into the pillow, eyes closed in a soft expression of happiness.

“I love you, too, yeobo.”