Work Text:
They call Namjoon’s studio a multitude of different things. To the fans, it’s Mon Studio. To the production team, it’s Joon’s Place. Sometimes, they call it the Real Genius Lab, just to piss Yoongi hyung off.
For the most part, the members (excluding a very embarrassed Namjoon) call it PornHub. Because none of them are willing to deny it compares only to the website. It’s stocked with about as much pornographic material as it is with beats and lyrics and melodies that the man himself writes up. And he somehow manages to download just about everything under the sun: hentai, gay and lesbian porn, rough sex, intimate sex, extreme kinks and bondage and tentacles and latex, and in enormous quantities, too.
It becomes routine pretty early on to slip into the tiny, soundproofed room when one of them needs to rub one out.
It’s always quick, something they need to skip lunch, or duck out of a meeting in order to do. But they manage it. They always manage it. Because they’re young men, after all, bodies healthier than they’ll ever be and stuffed full of hormones. It’s easy to forget, with all the company rules against dating and sex, that they’re no different than anyone else. That they deserve to let out a little steam, too.
This, for Jungkook, is where it all begins.
It takes time for him to figure out why he’s the only one that seems to have to dance out his sexual frustration, or why he often sees one of them return from an unusually long “bathroom break” with flushed cheeks and a smirk on their faces.
It takes Jungkook awhile to understand that “No Dating” isn’t necessarily synonymous with “no relief”.
Unfortunately, he remembers the day the truth is revealed all too clearly. He’s seventeen and has had a boner pretty much constantly for around three weeks. The obvious answer would be to jerk off, hell, he’s absolutely itching to, but all he can do is wallow in his own self pity because this is just how comeback season goes. It means quick, cold showers and working until you have neither the time nor the energy to do anything but sleep during what few hours you have at home.
When he’s twenty-seven, controlling his sex drive in order to work may prove doable. Maybe even at twenty-five, but Jungkook is nowhere near twenty-five and can’t go an hour without snapping at someone over something stupid, or three without getting hard.
Embarrassingly enough, everyone notices. Or at least Namjoon does, since on one of their increasingly rare breaks, he says, “Hey, Kook, wanna sit outside?”
The honest answer on this particular afternoon is no. The air is shockingly chilly, even for late-November, but if Jungkook has to watch Jin fuck up the jacket part in Run one more time (“Hyung, what’s wrong with you? This is literally the easiest move.” “Shut the fuck up, you prepubescent bastard .”) he’s gonna have an aneurism. So he just huffs in agreement and snatches his boxed lunch and parka off the table.
Once they get outside, Namjoon grows awkward, his lips tightening into a straight line and his eyebrows raising in concern.
“I can’t keep yelling at everyone,” he grunts through a mouthful of rice, determined to beat him to it, “I get it, hyung. I’m sorry, I’ll try to work on it, okay?”
“Uh, that’d be great, Kook-ah, but that’s not really…”
The way he trails off has panic rising in Jungkook’s chest, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s gotten himself into some sort of trouble.
But then he says, “Listen. I know you moved here really early, and it’s been up to us to, you know, raise you, but- Well, did your parents ever give you the talk?”
“They talk to me a lot,” Jungkook blinks, anxiety simmering down to a much duller confusion, “We talked on Sunday night.”
“No,” Namjoon is trying to hold back a smirk, the one he wears whenever Jungkook does something disgustingly innocent for his age. Usually, he likes the attention, but right now he’s too filled with testosterone for it to evoke anything but more irritation. “No, man, I mean like, about growing up and you know… that sort of thing.”
Suddenly it’s Jungkook’s lips that are pressed into a line. His palms are sweating through his gloves regardless of the fact that just seconds ago, they were ice-cold.
“Relax,” Namjoon holds out a hand to comfort him. Jungkook doesn’t take it. “Dude, listen. We’re brothers, right? We can talk about anything. You’re the one who said that to me, remember? When I was going through that rapper identity crisis thing?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, still too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
“Yeah, so let’s just…. hash it out, you know? We’re here to help you, all the hyungs. It’s our job to talk to you about this shit.”
“I guess,” it’s the closest thing to an agreement he’s planning to give him.
Luckily, he takes it, carrying straight onto, “I don’t really know much about your preferences, but when you get all angsty and, you know… horny, all you really need to do-“
“Hyung,” he cuts him off with a shriek, “Hyung. Dude. Oh my god, I pieced that together on my own forever ago, you don’t have to explicitly...”
Namjoon stares at the way he’s wildly flinging his arms to avoid going into too much detail. “Have you not been doing anything about it, then?”
“We aren’t home enough,” he admits begrudgingly. There’s no point in lying to him, or ignoring the problem any longer, especially since it‘s very obviously becoming one. “And when we are, it’s too tiring-“
“The guys use my studio,” he cuts him off.
“The guys-” it clicks, “Your studio to…”
“Yeah,” he nods slowly, as not to further alarm him, “Usually during lunch or longer breaks. Or meetings. I don’t know, whenever we’re here, pretty much. Tuesday- or today, I mean, it’s Hobi-“
“Okay, well, TMI.” He grimaces, trying to push the mental image out of his mind.
“I got porn and stuff in this folder titled ‘Brian Bear’. It’s on my desktop. It has pretty much everything and you can be loud, like-“
“I get it,” Jungkook’s not sure which he hates more, the annoyance he felt before, or the mortification he feels now.
“You should go in there,” he says, trying (and failing) to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Sooner the better before Jin embarrasses you on some variety show again.”
“I’d like to see him try,” he grumbles in response.
Which is how he ends up there two days later. The rap line has a meeting right after dance practice, leaving the remaining four of them sitting on the wooden floor to kill time until they can all head home.
Namjoon gives him a pointed look as he walks out and he watches the door swing shut behind them before stumbling to his feet himself.
“I’m gonna… um,” his voice cracks and he curses under his breath, “the bathroom.”
“Oh sure,” Tae sniggers and oh god, he knows.
Jin apparently does too, judging by the way he smirks up at him and adds, “Hope you enjoy your nice, long piss.”
Jimin doesn’t say anything, but as he steps into the hallway, he hears him mutter, “They grow up so fast.”
And to think Jungkook was under the impression that his little one on one with Namjoon was the worst it could get.
Either way, he’s able to shake it off, cock hardening in anticipation the second the studio comes into view. He’s been waiting far too long, and god knows when the last time he’d been able to watch porn was. The only masturbation Jungkook has ever known is in the cramped dorm shower with nothing but soap suds and his imagination.
He cums in under a minute.
The hyungs are confused for a moment, as to whether or not it really was the toilet he visited until they register Jungkook’s body language and burst out into a rather taunting round of laughter. His ears grow even redder. But he has to admit, he’s more relaxed than he’s been in a long time.
They have Sundays off and all six members have already more or less claimed a day of the week by the time he enters the picture. Which means he has to bring himself to negotiate with them for a spot in the studio. And that’s all fine and good because they’re best fucking friends and they’re proud of him in this super weird way for growing up, but it also means he needs to actually speak to them about their… ahem… schedules.
It’s weird at first. Jungkook finds himself stuttering and wringing his hands when he asks them (a different member each week) if he wouldn’t be able to use the room for a little while instead. They’re never mean about it, in fact they try to make it as casual as possible, but Jungkook is a closed person. He’s still unnerved by this new form of openness. For the time being, at least. Once he settles into the routine, he begins to meet their eyes and tease them about it, no longer afraid to push for what he wants.
He finds himself getting more adventurous with what he watches, too, venturing a little further from his original favourite, the ‘Vanilla’ folder, with each visit. Jungkook realises he very much likes Bukakke. And cream pies and gangbangs and cock worship. He kinda likes big dick videos and excessive semen, too.
He’s not sure why, but he always finds himself focused on the man, mostly on his cock and sometimes his moans, too. He successfully convinces himself he’s just projecting. That it’s the sight of it going into a woman’s mouth, or her pussy, or that of her fake nails wrapping around it that gets him off. The latter, he has a harder time explaining.
He doesn’t dare touch the folder titled “Gay”. Sometimes, he lets the mouse hover over it in what he tells himself is no more than curiosity, but never lets it go any further than that.
He tells himself it’s just not his thing. He’s a normal dude. A normal dude from Busan that just so happens to be good at everything. A regular joe. He’s conventional and he likes it that way.
Not that he has anything against it. Taehyung, Yoongi and Jimin all like men, and he still loves them to death, doesn’t see them as any different from Namjoon, Hoseok or Jin.
It’s just not for him. It’s not supposed to be.
So he sometimes clicks the “Lesbian” folder instead. It’s pretty much the same in principle, or so he thinks, but does absolutely nothing for him. He wonders why other straight guys like him are so fond of it.
It’s been eight months and Jungkook is almost too comfortable. He brings up what they watch in the studio often, much more than the others, and enforces it to the point where all of them start to see it as an okay thing to discuss regularly.
He likes it in an odd way, likes hearing what they’re into, seeing the way their eyes gloss over or they lick their lips when they get really excited talking about a video they particularly enjoyed. Jungkook pretends it’s just guys being dudes. That he doesn’t sometimes check to see if maybe their pants have gotten a little tight around the crotch when their choreographer is back from his break and it’s time to get up and dance again.
But late at night, when he’s pressed between Jimin and Hoseok, he lets it bother him. He wonders if he’s a pervert. If he’s taken this whole thing a little too far, if he’s normalised it past the point of it still being ‘straight’.
He tries his best to ignore it.
Before he knows it, it’s comeback season again. A year or two have passed and Jungkook is in the midst of his first truly sexy concept. A celebration of his coming of age, if you will. He likes the tuxes. He likes the makeup and Tae’s platinum blond hair and the way he gets to grind into the ground right before he bucks his hips up nice and hard.
He wonders if any of the members think he looks as good as he does himself. Sometimes, he catches Yoongi’s lingering gaze and tries to ignore the pit at the bottom of his stomach.
The lyrics in Lie ring a little too true to him. Some of the lyrics in Boy Meets Evil do too, especially when it’s just him alone in the recording booth singing them. They run through his mind at the strangest of times. Like when he watches Jimin throw his jacket off his shoulder at the start of Blood, Sweat and Tears, or Tae hits his high note in Stigma just right.
He chalks it all up to their schedules, which are straight out of hell seeing as they’ve just released a full length album. He’s back where he was last time, finds that stress makes him hornier than usual, and that now that he’s built up a tolerance for himself, getting into PornHub once a week isn’t quite enough.
It gets harder to coerce the others into giving up their spots to him. Because now he isn’t the cute little blushing virgin of the group anymore, he’s the resident horndog.
“Kook-ah, why’s your right arm look so much bigger,” they always snicker. Or sometimes they tell him he’s got cum in his hair and watch him panic to clean it out, instead. He sort of likes it, the attention. The way they see him as more of a man than a child nowadays. He feels less like their son and more like one of them.
He’s rushing for the studio on a Wednesday when he runs straight into Taehyung, knocking him to the ground. They both wordlessly scramble to their feet, eyes locked in silent competition and reach for the door. Jungkook makes it first, of course, but it’s a close call.
“Wednesday is my day,” he snaps.
And Jungkook just huffs, “I touched it first,” in return.
“Dude, we don’t have time for this, come on.”
“My dick fucking hurts,” he motions down at it without thinking, “I can’t go the rest of the day like this.”
Through his undying competitive streak, Jungkook misses the way his friend’s eyes linger. “Let’s just go in at the same time.”
“Hyun- wait what?”
“Yeah,” Tae sounds a little more confident this time, “We only have around twenty minutes and we’re both in the same boat.”
Jungkook gulps. Then, his dick twitches, a painful reminder that he kinda needs this. “I mean I guess we talk about it and stuff a lot.”
“Mmhmm,” he nods quickly, “It’s practically the same thing.”
Jungkook’s stomach twists and it very quickly occurs to him that this is not the same as just talking about it. It feels different. But he pushes it back, pretends the idea appeals to him only because they’re short on time, and that it’s nothing out of the ordinary because they’re all super close. “Fine,” he agrees, “but we’d better hurry up.”
Jungkook drags up a chair and plops down beside Taehyung, who is already hovering over the “Gay” folder. He notices the bulge in his pants, the way he’s already palming at himself and wishes in a way he could be that shameless.
But he snaps out of it, “Okay, don’t you dare.”
“We, two guys, are about to whip our dicks out and jerk off together and you’re afraid of a little man ass?” Tae scoffs.
Jungkook tries not to laugh, “No. Dude come on, part of watching porn is enjoying it.”
“Yeah, and I enjoy watching muscular twinks getting drilled within an inch of their lives.”
“Well I don’t,” he snaps. But he’s willing to admit that he may like anal. Especially if the girl is on her hands and knees, and all Jungkook can see is cock fucking into her. He says, “We’ll watch straight anal. It’s a compromise.”
He’s really compromising with himself more than he is Taehyung, but much to his luck, the other shrugs, “Okay. But if you cum first, I’m switching it to the gay shit.”
“That’s… fine,” he rolls his eyes, “Second I do, I’m outta here.”
Jungkook really, truly struggles not to look at Tae’s dick once he pulls it out of his pants. He’s so much bigger than Jungkook, and thicker, too, and he has to tell himself that he’s just jealous.
He doesn’t realise he actually has been focused only on Taehyung, the way he’s moving his wrist, more fluid than Jungkook, the way he’s moaning and the small droplets of precum gathering at the top until he says, “Touch it.”
“What?” he hisses, making sure to curl his lip in disgust.
“You’re staring,” Tae’s voice is a little hoarse and god fuck, he sounds so good, “if you wanna touch it, you can.”
“Dude, what the fuck. I’m straight. You know I’m str-“
“It’s just experimenting, chill.”
Jungkook is so tempted. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to feel to see if it’s different, to see if it’s as warm as he imagined. All those videos of handjobs he’s been watching must be rubbing (ha) off on him.
And Tae’s right, it is just experimenting and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. He’s young. It’s normal. Namjoon says it is. It doesn’t need to mean anything, he can just do it this once and prove to himself that it’s nothing more than curiosity, that there’s nothing for him to worry about.
“Are you sure?” he hears himself say. It’s almost like he’s out of his body, like it’s someone else about to do it instead of him. Because this isn’t Jungkook, it can’t be.
Taehyung sounds excited and it’s only then he realises that he’s matched his tone, “Yeah, it’ll make things faster, too.”
“Maybe for you,” he tries to joke.
Tae shifts his hips forward and both of their cocks twitch in excitement.
He can’t help but stare once more, allowing himself to get a better look this time. Yes, the heavy feeling in his chest has to be jealousy-
“We don’t have all day, man.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and wraps a hand around him. He doesn’t process what he’s done until Taehyung moans, and he finds himself trying not to do so himself. The skin is hot to the touch, and he’s throbbing. He may even be smoother than he is himself.
“P-pull the foreskin back,” he instructs and he shudders at the way it feels to be ordered around. It confuses him, though, because he usually hates being told what to do. He tells himself it’s only because it’s his first time. It must be. He’s just looking for direction.
He finds a rhythm easily, it is muscle memory after all, and soon, Tae is pulling him into a kiss. It’s weird and foreign and he definitely did not agree to it, but it feels nice nonetheless.
His lips are soft, envelope his rather effectively, so he figures, what the hell, it’s is just part of experimenting. He might as well get the most out of it.
Which is why he doesn’t protest when Tae starts to jerk him off, either. Instead, he leans into the touch, spinning his chair around to shift closer.
When he moves his free hand to his balls, Jungkook cums. And hard, his eyes squeezing tighter shut and his mouth dropping open at the rush.
It must be enough to drive Tae over the edge, too, because he hasn’t even come down before he feels wet warmth all over his own fingers.
When his eyes reopen, he can’t help but stare down at his hand, coated in what seems to him like a rather obscene amount of cum, and wonder. Wonder why all the girls in those videos want it in their mouths and all over their faces so bad.
He’s experimenting, he reminds himself for the umpteenth time. So while he’s at it, wouldn’t it make sense to try this out, too?
He ignores Tae’s gaze, lifting it slowly to his face. His heart is beating too hard and his whole body feels hot with what he doesn’t want to admit is, in part, arousal when he sticks out his tongue to lick a stripe up his palm.
His friend lets out an odd noise that sounds like a surprised grunt. “Shit, Kook.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, looking away.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.” He’s not sure why he tells the truth to himself, much less to Tae.
He doesn’t dance very well after lunch. His knees feel like jelly and all he can think about is the way his best friend sounded when he came.
They don’t talk about it, but Jungkook tries not to make it awkward. It’s successful, but it’s more thanks to how casual of a person Taehyung is. He knew he wouldn’t care, but breathes a sigh of relief nonetheless when things carry on the way they’re supposed to.
On the outside they do, at least. The next time Jungkook watches his porn, with whining girls and soaked pussies, it doesn’t feel right.
But it’s not about Tae, or dick or his own conflicting feelings, this he thinks he knows. It’s just because the real thing doesn’t compare to watching some stupid video. It doesn’t matter it was with a boy. A hand is a hand and mutual pleasure is mutual pleasure and that’s that.
Still, something he can’t quite put a finger on leads him back to the studio during lunch a couple Wednesdays later. He doesn’t plan with Tae, just knocks when he finds the door locked and says, “It’s me.”
A minute later, it cracks open. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his pupils are blown. “I’m kinda busy, Kook-ah, right now.”
“Remember how we experimented last time-“
And then he’s being yanked in and pressed against the wall, Tae’s hands all over him and his tongue in his mouth. He’s so hard through his sweats it’s not even funny and Jungkook tells himself it feels weird against him even though it undoubtedly turns him on.
“Wait,” he pulls away and Tae gives him an impatient look.
“What?”
“You can experiment more than once, right? Like it’s still experimenting if you-“
“Yes,” he looks amused, even going as far as to laugh a little and Jungkook can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, it can count as experimenting for as long as you want. It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to.”
This time, it’s Jungkook who leans in, letting his hands wander, down his back to his ass and back up again. He elicits that same beautiful moan he did last time and grins at the sound.
“What do you wanna do?” Tae asks when he breaks away, “I think we have about forty minutes.”
Jungkook pulls his phone out of his pocket, “Thirty-seven.”
“You’re annoying,” he points out, reaching down into Jungkook’s basketball shorts.
He tries to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head at the contact. “I want it.”
“...it?”
“Let’s have sex.”
Tae’s eyes widen and he looks like there’s something he wants to say. But he shakes it off and nods. “Okay bend over the couch.”
“I’m not gonna-“
“It’s just experimenting,” he squeezes him and Jungkook curses just how sensitive he can be, “Don’t you wanna try it all out? Get it all under your belt while you’re at it?”
The idea scares him, but Tae has a good point (again, Namjoon had told him it was normal) and it’s not like he really has the time to sit down and think about it.
So he just gulps and brushes past him to walk over. He stares at the couch for a minute, doing his best to suppress the panic and confusing arousal thrumming through him before getting into position.
And the older boy’s hands do feel nice on his legs pulling his shorts off ever so gently and sliding his shirt up his back. “Your ass is cute.”
“Do we really have time for this?” Jungkook snips, but the way Tae chuckles tells him he isn’t all that convincing.
Jungkook’s body tenses and he whips around when he feels a finger against his rim. “Woah, dude, what are you doing?”
“First of all, that’s hyung to you. And second of all, you need to prep. What the fuck are you doing?”
He gives him a questioning look.
“Wait, Jungkook,” he starts slowly, “Are you… do you really not know how gay sex works?”
“I’m not gay,” though he has to admit there’s a whole lot of irony in his statement considering he’s about to get a dick up the ass, “I’ve never even watched that shit, how am I supposed to know?”
“Huh. Guess that’s a good point,” he can imagine him nodding behind him. His index returns to his hole, now slicked with lube. “Well,” he starts, sliding it in excruciatingly slow, “Not to give you a whole sex-ed lesson and ruin the mood, but your ass is really tight and I need to finger it a little to open it up.”
All he can manage is a strained, “Oh.” It doesn’t really feel bad per say, but it’s not heavenly. It is a little satisfying over the burn of the stretch, though and he tries his best to relax against the pleather. Tae pumps it in a out a few odd times, shakes it side to side and Jungkook is embarrassed at the way he’s squeaking at the feeling.
“Is one good, do you need to add another?”
Tae just says, “You’ve seen my dick. Use your brain, Kook.”
The second one hurts and he winces, but it’s all worth it because he soon feels the pressure of him on his back and his lips at the nape of his neck to soothe him. Jungkook lets himself admit that this feels kinda good, too, especially once his body adjusts and his hole stops fluttering helplessly around him.
He scissors and pumps and stretches until Jungkook starts to push back, all too eager. He doesn’t realise he’s drooling in satisfaction until he lifts his head to groan, “More.”
“Wait, check this out,” Tae’s voice is spacey, thick with arousal and Jungkook shudders under his gaze.
“Wha-,” he starts, but cuts himself off as soon as he curls them and blinding pleasure shoots through his body. He thrashes forward with a sob, “ Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
“I can’t believe I found it that quick,” he slips his fingers back in, adds another this time.
With this new form of seemingly magical stimulation, he decides he likes the pain of the third one. His cock is throbbing in it’s awkward position smushed against the couch, but he takes advantage to grind up against it.
And it turn, he feels Tae bucking into his hip, hot and dripping against him. He, in his blissed out state, realises he genuinely enjoys this. He’s too gone to keep lying to himself.
“You fuckin’ love this,” Tae slurs into him, biting at his shoulder before sucking the tender skin into his mouth, “Tell me you love this, baby, come on.”
“Tae,” he groans. His face is on fire, “Tae, p-please, just-“
“Oh no,” he slides his fingers out and Jungkook whips around, terrified of losing the contact. “Come on. Tell me the truth. Do you want this?”
“Fine,” he cries, gripping at Tae’s shoulders and pulling him on top of him, “Fine, it feels g-good, now please .”
He’ll admit that much, but he’s not about to tell him he likes it. He can’t listen to himself say something like that out loud.
Luckily, Tae doesn’t see a difference, shifting them into a better position before pulling his legs to wrap around his waist. “I’ve never done this, either, you know.”
“No shit,” he mutters, but he just wants a kiss.
Tae stops him from leaning in, “I mean do I need to use a condom?”
“I don’t even think Namjoon has them,” he shakes his head and pulls Tae’s back down. He’s stronger than him, it really doesn’t take much.
And then he’s pushing in and he’s so hot, makes him so warm that Jungkook feels like he’s being cooked from the inside out in the best way possible. He’s even thicker than three fingers and he doesn’t want to think about why he’s already moaning so and loud begging for him to go faster.
It hurts, but his prostate is screaming for more. The weight of Tae, of his hands digging bruises into his hips and the feeling of him sucking at his neck in what he assumes is a way to keep it together are so good. So good. Sex is so good and Jungkook never wants to stop having it. Even if that means it’s with a guy. For the first time, he doesn’t think about what he’s supposed to be. He just lets it happen.
It doesn’t last very long. Actually, the prep ends up taking more of their time than the sex itself, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. Not when Taehyung is throbbing inside of him and hitting his prostate just right and kissing him like they’re made for each other. Their bodies are slick with sweat and he finds himself licking it off of him, wiping more of it onto himself as he tries his best to pull him as close as possible.
Cuddling is nice, yes, but there’s something about being intertwined to the greatest extent that feeds Jungkook so well, makes him feel like some sort of god.
Especially when Tae is moaning, “Shit, baby, so fuckin’ tight. So tight, god you’re s-so- fuck.” When he pulls away he looks down at Jungkook, “You’re the prettiest out of all of us, y-you know that?”
“Even more than Jimin?” he hiccups, letting the praise drive him closer to the edge.
“Jimin doesn’t have you… your eyes, baby, I-“
Jungkook feels amazing, blissed out and without a single care in the world. So he lets himself kiss him again, mutters that he feels like he’s getting close and bears his neck once more.
Tae’s hand fumbles out for his cock, making contact the second his tongue finds its way to his nape and he cums on the spot.
All he can see is white and there is a harsh ringing in his ears, and he almost tells him to stop because it’s that much more overwhelming than cumming without the added stimulation will ever be.
Jungkook isn’t sure he can take it.
But it’s pure ecstasy, and he‘s greedy, wants more. So he pleads for him to fuck him into overstimulation, whines and wails and sobs for him, pulling his eyes open to stare up at him. In this moment of weakness, he allows himself to admire Taehyung. His catlike eyes, his full lips, now pink and swollen from his own doing, his sun kissed skin, and his moans. Jungkook loves his moans so, so much and he has an itching feeling that he’s going to regret letting himself do what he’s doing, but he’s too fucked out to care. He feels too good.
Tae cums once the tingling all over his body begins to wear down and they both groan, long and deep in satisfaction.
If it had been nice on his tongue, it’s unreal in his ass.
When Tae collapses on top of him, he holds him tight in his arms and the younger happily returns his embrace.
He kisses him again, too, hand moving to cup his jaw, run his thumb over the scar on his cheek and Jungkook mewls in delight.
When he looks back years later, he realises how lucky he is, in that moment to be too inexperienced, to know intimacy from a hookup.
He doesn’t think about how attracted he is to Taehyung nowadays. It started when they’d slept together. Or no, it started with the handjobs, but Jungkook is still in denial. He tells himself the reasons he liked it so much are the long legs and soft tummy and somewhat feminine features. He tells himself it’s because he can pretend Tae is just a girl. But that doesn’t really excuse how much he likes the feeling of his cock in his ass.
He stops bargaining with the other members for time during their sessions. He just starts showing up on Wednesdays and eventually, Taehyung starts waiting for him. Sometimes, when he’s late, he earns a, “Thank god, I was scared you wouldn’t come!”
Jungkook likes being wanted in general. That’s why it makes his stomach do somersaults. Nothing more, nothing less.
Soon, his heart starts to beat faster when he and Tae lock eyes too long. It’s because they share a secret, which is rare between the seven of them. It’s exciting, is all. And he decides he likes how it feels, so he starts taking it outside their weekly trysts in the studio, holding his hand a little tighter, choosing to sit next to him even more than he already does and singling him out whenever he gets the chance. Jungkook only feels special because he likes that there’s something that the two of them share. That’s it.
He tries and fails not to make it a regular thing. It’s certainly for a lack of trying, and on his part specifically, especially when they move into the new house and Jungkook finally has a room to himself.
What starts as something that happens only once a week turns into something they can do at night if they aren’t too tired.
It’s just a phase, he has to remind himself every single time. It’s just an experiment and he doesn’t mind and Tae doesn’t mind and it’s very nice, actually, because it’s no strings attached and he likes it that way.
They watch something together pretty much every day without fail now. They start on dramas when they’ve run out of good stuff on Netflix. It doesn’t happen every single night, but most of the time, they fuck.
They go nuts since Jungkook is nineteen and Taehyung is twenty and that’s normal. Fucking all the time is normal because it’s all hormones and they’re best friends and it’s not awkward.
At some point, it stops being a secret. It doesn’t come out, there’s no confrontation, but the guys know, and Tae and Jungkook know that they know. It’s more than likely that them being woken up holding each other completely naked day after day is what gives them away.
But this does make it harder to justify why he holds him so tight nowadays, why he’s so clingy and feels all weird when the other spends the evening with Jimin or Namjoon instead since there’s no longer anything to hide.
However, he reminds himself, this must be normal. He’s still straight, so the only thing that these feelings could imply is that the sex has made their friendship stronger, that it’s done away with physical boundaries completely. Jungkook feels smug at how much closer he and Tae are than the rest of them. He thinks he’s found some sort of holy grail to becoming the best friends two guys can be.
On tour, it makes even more sense. Taehyung is home and Jungkook is homesick.
He ignores the creeping voice in the back of his head that tells him not only that he’s addicted to Tae’s attention in every possible context, but that maybe several months of regular “experimenting” warrant a little soul searching on his behalf.
When they get a couple days off, Jungkook finds himself all alone in the dorm, missing Taehyung. He and Yoongi have caught the train back to Daegu together, and Jungkook finds himself wondering (in a totally non-jealous way) if they would ever hook up. If they ever have before.
He tries to distract himself by shoving his hand down his pants and doing his best to picture tits and a tight pussy to drill into, but instead all he can see is Taehyung. Taehyung everywhere. Inside of him and out, holding him and kissing him and whispering sweet nothings into his ear as they fuck. He only realises the fantasy has morphed into one involving his best friend when he calls his name as he finishes.
He’s used to Tae, so it’s not really that weird. When it comes to sex, he is all he’s ever known, he’s what he’s used to. Who else would he be able to imagine so realistically?
In fact, sleeping with Taehyung comes so easily to him that when he’s introduced to some random girl through Jin, one he promises he can trust not to expose them, Jungkook declines.
It makes more sense to sleep with someone who knows him, knows he likes to be called baby, knows he likes cum and dirty talk and little kisses and praise. That’d be too difficult to explain to a one night stand. He can’t call a one night stand “hyung” either, or ask her to finger him like he seems to need.
He assures himself it’s not because he feels like it’d be wronging Taehyung. The whole appeal of their relationship is that it’s totally casual, after all, that it’s never meant anything and never has to.
Jungkook gets a harsh reality check right before he turns twenty. They’re still sticky with sweat in the humid August air when Tae noses into his neck and says, “Let’s go on an adventure.”
He doesn’t want to. He would much rather turn the AC up and pass out like his fucked out body is telling him to, but he feels good when Taehyung is happy.
So he slurs an exhausted, “Like what?”
“We can go to the park, watch the sunrise.”
He doesn’t know if he can stay up that long. “But that’s in, like, hours.”
“It’s already almost four.”
“God, what the fuck?” he rubs a hand down his face, pulling them into a sitting position. “How did it get so late?”
“So strong ,” the elder hums. Jungkook ignores it. He’s used to doing that whenever Tae says something that makes him feel warm inside. Then, he continues, “You last super long, dude. And therefore I do, too. Can’t disappoint and watch you scamper off to Yoongi or Jimin for better dick instead.”
“I would never,” it feels a little too honest.
“Hmmph,” he tries to sound like he doesn’t believe him, but Jungkook can hear the smile in his voice. “Well? Come on. Let’s go.”
“What if I made you toast and peanut butter and we called it a night. How’s that for an adventure?”
“Oh, baby, come on,” it sounds beautiful to Jungkook’s ears. He used to snap at Tae if he tried to call him that when they weren’t fucking, but recently, he’s grown lazy. “It’ll be fun.”
It appears he is serious, so Jungkook pretends to be annoyed, huffing before he pulls free and stumbles down the ladder of his bunk bed.
Tae jumps down right behind him and he turns on the light. Just to find his socks.
It’s peaceful, the park at night. It’s empty and they wear masks on the way, and for the first time in ages, they aren’t recognised. Tae interlocks their fingers as they walk, squeezes his hand when he sees a squirrel or something, and he finds himself more awake in no time.
He listens to him talk aimlessly the whole way there, because objectively he has a really nice voice and Jungkook likes to hear it, even if he isn’t really processing the exact words coming out of his mouth.
Once they lay out the sheet they’ve brought and settle into it, he falls asleep. He does try to stay awake since the elder has once more begun his blabbering, but it’s hard when all he can do is nod along into the damp fabric of his shirt.
When the sun peeks over the horizon, Tae shakes him awake, excitedly motioning towards it, but all he can do is stare up at him. He soon notices, reads the look in his eyes and dips down to kiss him before he can ruin the moment. It’s so slow, gentle and comforting. But most importantly, it contains not a drop of lust and it only registers with him when Tae’s tongue slips past his lips that he’s wanted this forever. Maybe this is why he’s been lasting so ridiculously long. Maybe he’s been looking for relief in all the wrong places.
When Tae breaks away, he opens his mouth, then closes it, as if he’s about to say something.
Jungkook says, “Just tell me.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The certainty and impulsivity of the admission shocks him, though he tries his best not to show it. Tae looks vulnerable and the last thing Jungkook wants to do is confuse him like he has himself.
It reminds him of that very first time, when he’d licked his hand clean without thinking and then agreed that he’d liked it before even processing what he’d done.
It rang true last time and it does this time, too.
Jungkook doesn’t sleep when they get home. He instead sings a now-drowsy Taehyung to sleep the way he likes before slipping out from under him and tiptoeing into Jin and Yoongi’s room.
“Hyung,” he hisses once he approaches his bedside, “Yoongi. Hyung, wake up.”
“Jimin. Fuck off.”
“No, it’s me.”
“Even worse,” he rolls over, dismissive, “Go back to sleep.”
“How did you know you were gay?”
“Wait,” he croaks, turning back to him, “Do not fucking tell me that the past year with Taehyung…”
“What about it?” he gulps.
“Jesus fuck. What’s… you know I- this is fucking ridiculous, Jungkook. I feel like you’re a big kid now, you don’t need me to point out the obvious.”
He’s so nervous, knows what’s coming but isn’t all too sure he wants to hear it, “And that is…?”
“You’re gay. At least for Taehyung. Now for the love of god, leave me alone, this is my only day off.”
“What about love-“
“You’re asking the wrong person. Please go bother someone else or talk to me when I’m actually awake.”
“Fair enough,” he mutters, turning on his heel to head for Namjoon’s.
He pokes his shoulder once he gets there. “Hey, wake up.”
“Mmph.”
His heart is beating too hard to wait for a solid reply. “How do I know if I’m in love?”
He yawns, then rolls over, eyelids dragging open, “Taehyung, you really need to stop asking me shit like this every single week when it’s clear- Oh. It’s the man himself.”
“Um.”
He doesn’t falter, “You’re in love with Taehyung. He’s in love with you and you are certainly no longer experimenting.”
“Thanks, hyung,” he calls, already out the door. He hears a grunt ever so faintly from behind him but he doesn’t care. Not anymore when all of a sudden this gargantuan weight has been lifted off his chest and things are clear for the very first time.
When he gets back in bed and pulls a half asleep Taehyung back into his arms, he realises that where he thought he’d feel dread, he feels nothing. After all this time, all this denial that appears now to be completely senseless, why doesn’t it hurt? Why doesn’t Jungkook care like he thought he would? Why doesn’t he feel different?
Things really haven’t changed from one moment to the next like he was so sure they would. He doesn’t not feel normal, he just feels at ease. He is confused, yes, but it’s more at the unexpected lack of reaction.
Namjoon, as always, is right. He does love Taehyung, and it hasn’t been experimenting since… how long? Could it ever really have been classified as such, or was it just some feeble excuse that he forced himself to believe in hopes that it’d ease his mind? Taehyung has never not felt good, he has never been as interested in girls as he’s told himself he is, and he feels more like himself now than he ever has.
Jungkook let’s himself cry. He’s not sure what the tears are of. It’s not sadness, and not happiness either, but maybe relief. Yes, a mixture of relief and acceptance. He doesn’t have to struggle to justify things anymore. He’s finally growing up.
He can’t sleep once he’s dried his face, but the clock on the wall is telling him it’s about 11am now and he figures he’s let Tae sleep long enough. He needs to do something about this. He wants to scream it from the rooftops, but he knows he can’t, so telling the only person other than himself that it really concerns, is the next best thing.
What else is he to do but wake him up by sitting on his cock?
He’s still stretched from a few hours ago so he snatches the lube from beneath the mattress and slicks the other up. It doesn’t take him long to get hard. Either of them, actually and Jungkook is starting to see all these little signs that point to the fact that they haven’t just been messing around for a while now. That he’s never been just a phase. That Jungkook is attracted to him with the entirety of his being.
He sighs when he sinks onto him and the other wakes up immediately, mouth curling into a lazy grin as his hands find his waist.
But then he remembers, “Jungkook, we need to-“
He cuts him off by rocking forward and saying, “It’s okay.”
It looks like he’s struggling to say, “No it’s not-“
“I meant it, last night- or this morning.”
“Don’t joke.”
“Why would I joke about something so serious. Taehyung, I love you. And I’m over this whole… this bullshit.”
He looks unsure and it breaks Jungkook’s heart. Has he really been that oblivious? Has he been hurting Tae?
So he says, “I love you and I’m sorry I’ve been calling you an experiment when we both know you aren’t.”
“ Thank god ,” apparently, it’s Tae’s turn to cry, but Jungkook doesn’t want to see it. He never wants to see it so he leans in and crashes their lips together, hard and meaningful as he can manage.
He kisses back, of course, and sits them up, smiling into his mouth when he gasps at the new angle.
“I love you, too. I’m so happy,” the elder mumbles. Jungkook will admit the words come out unclear and jumbled, but he doesn’t care. He knows what he means and he’ll take it.
There isn’t much movement this time because movement means leaning apart and right now, Jungkook cannot bear the idea of separating. It’s been too long, he’s been too afraid of accepting intimacy for what it is and he wants to make up for all he’s lost. Everything he hasn’t allowed himself to enjoy because he’s been a coward.
He sobs when he cums between them, untouched and sloppy and Tae isn’t far behind, muttering ‘I love you’s’ over and over again until he’s so happy he’s afraid he might die.
He‘d say he wouldn’t mind if he went out like this, but in all honesty, he needs to relive all their memories to make them what the should have been, and more than that, he wants more. He wants it to be real and he wants to spend forever with Taehyung and he really doesn’t care what everyone back home would think, because what matters is that he is finally, finally free.
They stay like that, Jungkook wrapped around him like a koala, in silence. He listens to his breathing even out and his heartbeat slow before he says, “I’m sorry,” once more.
“Just promise me you won’t keep running away from it.”
“I won’t,” he agrees, “How bad did I…,” he wants to say ‘hurt you’ but he can’t find it in himself.
“Not as bad as you’d think. But it wasn’t fun.”
“Have you always felt this way?”
“Since pre-debut.”
“So it was just me being stupid this whole time?”
He laughs and Jungkook doesn’t feel too awful anymore, “That it was.”
“So now what?” Jungkook is sweating, he’s thirsty and his back is starting to hurt but he doesn’t wanna let go.
“What do you mean, now what?”
“What changes?”
“I don’t think anything changes,” Tae sighs, “Everyone’s known forever now, but you. And you really don’t act as casual as you think you do.”
Jungkook feels kind of stupid, but he supposes that it doesn’t matter now because things are finally alright.
It’s late April and they’re in Tokyo again, enjoying a few bottles of sake in the specially reserved private room of some upscale restaurant so Jungkook can hold Taehyung.
He hasn’t been able to stop holding Taehyung since August, or kissing him or telling him how much he loves him and everyone thinks it’s kinda disgusting.
Except for he and Tae, of course. They’re just making up for lost time. Jungkook is apologising as best he can, even though the other is insistent that he doesn’t need to.
“Do you really have to sit on his lap to eat?” Jin sighs as he watches miso spill all over Tae.
“No, even better, do you really need to lick soup off him?” Namjoon shoots them a rather judgemental look.
Hoseok burps, “Aren’t you the one that told Kook he was gay and made this nightmare a reality?”
“Hey, listen, Yoongi hyung was involved, too.”
“I told him to piece it together himself,” Yoongi crosses his arms, by far the most unbothered.
Well, next to Jimin this is, who leans across the table to Jungkook, “How did you manage that full 180? That’s what I don’t get. How did you go from being in complete denial to readily accepting everything in the blink of an eye? You haven’t panicked since. You almost act like it’s always been this way.”
The whole table is quiet for the first time since they’ve sat down. Even Taehyung has turned to him and Jungkook shifts in his seat.
“I think I knew deep down for a while before I said anything,” is all he says.
“That can’t be all.”
He shrugs, “I was just used to lying, it became reflex if I felt anything. I sorta had realised what was going on in the back of my mind, but didn’t want to accept it, ‘cause I knew once I did, it was over. I guess I was right since when I told Tae I loved him I couldn't ignore it anymore.”
No one looks satisfied with his answer.
“Look, I’m sorry I’m not fucking Namjoon and I can’t give you some elaborate and philosophical explanation about coming of age, alright?”
Slowly, they turn their attention away from him.
“That’s rather anticlimactic.”
“Shut up, Jin,” Tae snaps, pushing farther back into his lap, “it wasn’t for me.”
It was for Jungkook. It wasn’t spectacular or angsty or worthy of being featured in some drama, no, but he likes it better that way. He prefers that it was peaceful and realises that if it had been a big deal, he wouldn’t have kept feeling like himself. And that’s all he wants. He wants to keep feeling like himself.