Archive of Our Own ^beta

I’m not going to lie. I knew it was going to happen eventually.

We got back home late. Everyone was tired. I had a snack, lounged on the couch while the showers were occupied, and began getting ready for bed. The thing is, by the time I showered, got all the makeup off, and put on my pajamas, I wasn’t really tired anymore. That happens sometimes, to us nocturnal humans. So I went into my studio and decided to put this energy to good use. The next time I looked up from my screen, it was one AM.

I stood up, stretched, and thought: this is an opportunity. It was really quiet, and I knew everyone was asleep. Still, I walked around the dark hallways with my phone screen lit up in front of me just to make sure that everyone was out cold. The doors to their rooms were all closed, it really was perfect.

When I got back to the studio, I didn’t turn on the lights, the computer screens were illuminating enough on their own. Then I dropped onto the couch and reached for the box hidden between it and the wall.

The lube was easy enough to get. I just threw it into the basket when I went shopping with Jin hyung. His reaction was to look at me questioningly for exactly half a second, then pick up another bottle and buy it for himself.

The dildo though – that took some strategy.

For one, you can’t buy a dildo in a random convenience store. For another, I wouldn’t go buy one with Jin hyung. Or anyone else. Purchasing this toy was a sacred affair that took years of planning and decision making. Obviously, I couldn’t get one when we were all living together in one room. That would have been ridiculous. But it didn’t stop me from wanting to. By the time we moved out into the second apartment, I have become familiar with probably every dildo model that existed, and I knew which one I wanted. A realistic, flesh colored, 8 inch dildo with raised veins all over it, and a suction cup at the bottom so that I could ride it. Simple.

Now, actually going out and buying it was another challenge. I couldn’t order it, one of them opens the delivery box and it’s game over. So I had to physically go into a store and get one.

I ended up doing it on a shoot day. We were taking pictures for some magazine. Group photos, then individually. I knew the timing was good with this one. We were between comebacks, at a time when our hair wasn’t too attention attracting. It was before that many people knew us, all I had to do was get out of the shoot before everyone else, and come back home without them knowing I wasn’t there in the first place. I spent all day dropping hints that I wasn’t feeling well, and as predicted, after the group photos, Namjoon told me to get my individual photos done quickly and go home. Did I feel bad about making them worry? Absolutely. Was it worth it? …Yeah. And it was okay, considering my miraculous recovery the next day.

We were all supposed to go home together, so there was only one car to drive us back, and it wasn’t there when I finished my individual shoot. That meant I had to take a cab, which was perfect. I gave the driver the address of the store on the opposite side of the street to the one I needed, and in the cab, I took off my makeup, messed up my hair and my clothes, took out my contacts. I got to the store fifteen minutes before closing time, found the model I wanted (I called that morning to make sure they had it), paid in cash, and got back home long before the others did. I hid it in the back of my closet and couldn’t even use it for the first two weeks after buying it. There was no time for that. But just having it there was exciting enough.

I was so paranoid about getting caught the first time I used it. There were no locks on the bedroom doors. That meant that if Jin hyung came back while I was in the middle of the ordeal, I couldn’t stop him from just walking in. My strategy ended up being locking the front door and leaving the door to mine and Jin hyung’s bedroom open. That way, if someone started unlocking the front door, I’d have the perfect view of it, and enough time to run to the bathroom and hide. Whatever, I was young, it made sense to me at the time.

The one time someone actually did come in, I wasn’t fast enough, and Hoseok, who totally figured out I was masturbating, was laughing like a maniac when the bathroom door slammed shut. That didn’t stop me from shamefully jerking myself off over the sink though, and experiencing the best orgasm I’ve had in years. Thankfully, he never said anything about it, so I assumed I was fast enough to hide the toy at least.

The problem though, is that after so many times of masturbating with the door open, I might have developed a kind of kink for it. An open door kink. A getting caught kink. Possibly exhibitionism. I couldn’t help the fantasies if I tried. And when we moved to this new place, I got a little reckless. All of the sudden I had my own room, my own studio, I could lock the door and play as much as I wanted. But I didn’t really want to, lock the door I mean. It felt like doing that would mean giving up that fantasy of getting caught, and I had just come to the point of accepting it. So tonight, after pulling my pants and underwear off and sliding the dildo into me, I looked at the door to my studio, knowing full well that I can close it, and not doing it.

In the beginning, fantasizing about faceless men and women was perfectly fine. But as time went on, and I kept imagining one of the members walking in on me, catching me in the act, the fantasies developed. I tried to fight it for a long time, refused to think about them in those kinds of situations. It felt dirty, disrespectful. But I couldn’t help it. And it didn’t help that I’ve seen all of them naked more than once. So eventually I convinced myself that it was completely harmless as long as they didn’t know. It was just hormones, after all. I mean, I haven’t touched someone sexually in years. It made sense that the only people I see naked would be the people starring in my fantasies. Hell, it probably happens to them too sometimes.

And if one of them starred in those fantasies much more often than the others, well, there wasn’t anything I could do about that either. And if the fantasies about him were usually sweet and slow and loving and whatnot, it’s probably because I think of him as more delicate than the others. Or because fantasies can’t be dirty all the time, right? It makes sense for some of them to be vanilla.

So of course, the night when everything is so perfect, is going to be the night I finally get caught. And of course, it had to be him.

I didn’t notice anyone push the door to the studio and walk in. I was too close, couldn’t hear anything past my own heavy breathing and the blood rushing in my ears. My body was burning from the pleasure, from forcing myself to stay quiet. I was jerking myself off, shoving my body harshly onto the toy. It felt so good that when I heard Jimin gasp, I thought it was still part of the fantasy, that it’s wasn’t real. And when I opened my eyes and he was there, really there, staring at me with shock written all over him, I couldn’t stop myself from coming.

When he ran out of the studio I pulled the toy out of me, leaned my head back, and the aftershocks of this orgasm were etched with shame. I laid there for a while, replaying that moment in my head over and over. His whole body was rigid, his eyes wide open, mouth forming a perfect circle. But under all of that, he looked tired. Like he woke up in the middle of the night, a hundred hours of sleep short.

I put my clothes back on and stood up. When I got to Jimin and Hoseok’s bedroom, the door was closed. I didn’t want to knock, Hoseok was probably still sleeping in there. Besides, I didn’t know what I could tell Jimin. I wasn’t sure I could even look him in the eye right now. And he probably didn’t want to see me. So I turned away, decided that I needed time to think about what I’d tell him.

The next morning, I was exhausted. I wasn’t sure if I had slept at all. If I did, it was one of those horrible, thought filled sleeps. I spent all night trying to convince myself that it wasn’t that bad. What I was doing wasn’t forbidden or disgusting. He was just surprised to see me like that, that’s all. He couldn’t have possibly known that I was thinking about him while doing it. But I knew, and that made it bad enough. What worried me the most was that he might look at me differently now, that I would lose his respect.

I peeled myself off the bed when the alarm went off. The bathroom was empty when I went to brush my teeth and wash my face. There were circles under my eyes and I looked pale. More so than usual. I got dressed quickly, moving on autopilot, then sat on my bed. After a whole night of thinking, I still wasn’t sure what I was going to tell him. But I did know I needed to apologize. It was my fault after all.

When I went out into the kitchen, Jin hyung, Jeongguk and Taehyung were making breakfast. Hoseok and Namjoon were sitting at the table discussing something. Jimin wasn’t there yet.

“Yoongi-yah,” Hoseok was looking at me with a weird expression. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “Good morning to you too.”

“Why do you look terrible?” he asked. Everyone turned to me, concern evident in their eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I tried to come off nonchalant, but it just came out sounding sad.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked me, and the worry in his voice made me feel worse.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. He seemed skeptical. “I am. Just a sleepless night. It happens.”

“Not to you,” he argued. “You’re the king of sleep.”

I replied by rolling my eyes so hard it actually hurt.

“Morning,” Jimin’s voice came from behind me.

I turned around. He didn’t look any better than me, probably hasn’t slept much either. It made me feel like shit.

He wasn’t even looking at me.

“You don’t look too well either,” Namjoon said softly.

“I’m tired,” he replied. “I just need a cup of coffee and I’ll be fine.”

We ate, talked. Jimin and I talked too, just not to each other. Sometime after finishing his first cup of coffee, he glanced at me, but his expression gave me nothing. It was the first time that I couldn’t read him at all, and it scared me. I didn’t think he would react this strongly.

Dance practice went okay, I guess. I was a bit slower than usual, but we were learning a new choreography, so they cut me some slack. Jimin was so quick to learn everything. If you looked at him, you’d never be able to tell he was tired. The dancing seemed to send him somewhere else, distract him. Hoseok and Namjoon had to leave in the middle of practice to a meeting, so Jimin was teaching us. He’s good at it, adapts to the teacher role really well. He even scolded me once, told me to keep up. I did my best to listen.

When he finally said we did enough for today, we were all sweating like crazy. I was drinking water, watching as everyone started picking up their things and leaving. I had my bag completely packed, and Jimin had already turned off most of the lights when it hit me that this is as good an opportunity as any to talk to him.

“Jimin-ah,” I called out. He turned to look at me, still unreadable. “Could you stay for a couple more minutes, show me that sequence one more time?”

Jin hyung looked at me like I lost my mind. Me? Asking for more practice? When did the world turn upside down? But Jimin understood what I really wanted.

“Sure,” he said. He waited until Jin hyung left, then closed the door.

His back was to me for probably a whole minute before he finally turned.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. His expression crumbled in a second, all the worry showing up at once. It was awful to look at. So awful that it took me a moment to even register what he said.

“You’re sorry?” I asked, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have walked into your studio without permission, I should have knocked, I should have said something, I should’ve-“

“Wait, stop,” he stopped rambling at my sharp tone. “You don’t need to be sorry for that. It’s not like I didn’t know the door was open.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, and looked at me with a perplexed expression.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” I said, looking away. “I knew what I was doing. I knew the risk I was taking by leaving the door open, and I did it anyway.”

“But why would you do that?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“I don’t really know…” I sighed. “I guess I like it.” When his facial expression didn’t change, I added, “The danger of it. The adrenalin maybe. Something about it really… works.”

He dropped to the floor, cross legged, picked up his water bottle and took a sip.

“Why were you even awake?” I asked him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he started. “I went into the kitchen to get some water, and on the way back I saw the lights in your studio were still on. I figured you were working late. I just wanted to tell you that you should go to sleep.”

I sat down beside him and sighed. We were quiet for a moment, the only light in the room was by the mirrors behind us. There were shadows across Jimin’s face, accentuating every line and curve. I didn’t know what to say.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” he said, turning to me.

“Anything,” I answered. I thought he was going to ask me some question about the toy. How I got it, why did I get it, why did I like using it. Anything to do with what he saw yesterday. I didn’t expect this.

“Why didn’t you tell me-“ he paused, hesitated. His eyes were soft, “-that you like boys?”

It took me by surprise, really did. I thought he knew. I was sure he knew. And why would he bring up this question now, if he didn’t before?

“You know you don’t have to like boys to enjoy doing that to yourself,” I said when I realized that he was asking this because of the toy. I might have sounded a little more defensive than I intended.

“I suppose that’s true,” he looked away, drank some more. He seemed almost disappointed by what I said.

“But I do –“ I rushed to say. “I do like… boys,” and the award for the smoothest sail out of the closet goes to- “and I never really hid it. I honestly thought you knew.”

“I should have figured it out,” he smiled a little. “Whenever we talk about girls, you always speak in a… genderless sort of way. But you did have a girlfriend, didn’t you? Before Bangtan.”

“I did,” I answered. He looked like he was about to protest, so I added, “You know you can like both, right?”

He nodded shakily. He was quiet for another moment, seemed to be processing information. I took the bottle from his hands and drank some water. It was almost as if I could see the questions forming in his head.

He looked uncertain, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be asking so much. I waited him out, tried to convey to him that I really would answer anything he could ask. When he finally did speak, it was so fast I could barely decipher what he said.

“How did you know you liked both?”

I’m not sure why, but the way he said the words gave them so much weight. Like it was personal to him, not to me. I tried not to think about it too hard, the time for analyzing will be later. Right now, he was turning away from me, feigning nonchalant. I never really talked about this to anyone, but I trust Jimin, so I figured there’d be no harm.

“I always knew I liked women, there was never any doubt in my mind about that,” I said. “But men… I didn’t really know until I had to face it head on.”

“What do you mean?” He urged. I wanted to ask him if he actually wanted to hear all of this, but one glance at him and I could see just how interested he was.

“I mean… when a guy actually offered,” I said. “It was after the girlfriend, before Bangatn. Me and a couple friends, we went to this guy’s house, to hang out. I didn’t know him, one of the others did. And he seemed to really take a liking to me. He talked to me a lot, sat next to me, made physical contact all the time. It took me a minute to realize that he was flirting with me. And when I did realize, I just didn’t stop him. And when he asked me to stay after everyone left, I stayed. And when he kissed me… I kissed back.”

“How long did you date?” Jimin asked.

“We didn’t date,” I told him, watched as he got confused. “I slept with him that night. Then one more time after that. And that was it.”

It was another beat before he spoke.

“And you let him… do that to you?” he asked.

“By ‘do that’, do you mean did I let him fuck me?” I retorted.

He inhaled sharply at the words ‘fuck me’, then whispered, “Yes.”

“Not the first time, no,” I answered. “The first time, I fucked him. I never thought I’d see him again after that. I figured it was a one time thing, and I was okay with it. I wasn’t really interested in him romantically, he was just a way for me to figure out what I liked. Then lo and behold, during one of the battles, I spot him in the crowd. The second time we slept together, I asked him to ‘do that’ to me.”

“You asked him for it?” he asked. “Why?”

“Because… ever since that first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” I confessed. “When I was fucking him, he looked so blissed out, like he loved it. A lot. I was worried, at the time, that I’d hurt him. Because that’s all I really knew about anal sex, that it was supposed to be painful. But it didn’t seem like he was in pain. It looked like he was-” I laughed, “-transcending. And it made me curious.”

“And was it really that good?” he asked.

“It was good enough for me to risk buying a dildo while living with six other guys,” I replied.

“How did you even get it?” he laughed.

“With a lot of patience,” I replied. “And cash.”

It wasn’t that funny, but he laughed anyway.

“Does it feel different?” he asked. “Doing it with… the toy?”

“Different to what?” I asked.

“A regular-“ he paused again, and I rolled my eyes. He’s so innocent sometimes. “A regular orgasm.”

“It does,” I smiled. “It’s more intense. Like, it feels like your whole body is involved, rather than just your dick. And if you really, you know, get the right spot, and do it for a long enough time… it feels fucking amazing.”

He blushed and looked away, but I could still see the corner of his mouth turn up.

“So you really didn’t know you liked boys at all before…?” his voice trailed off.

“Not really…” I said. “But then, when I started thinking back, it made sense. Like, I used to see certain men and find them attractive, but I never read too much into it. We had this substitute teacher once, a young handsome guy. And I remember seeing him for the first time and thinking, ‘god, all the girls are gonna be really into him.’ And I remember it really annoying me for some reason, and I didn’t understand why. But thinking about it now, I know that I was looking at him the same way they were looking at him.”

“And you didn’t realize?” he smiled.

“No,” I smiled too. “And there were way more incriminating incidents.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Well, honestly, the amount of times I watched gay porn really should have been a dead giveaway, but somehow I managed to excuse that too,” I laughed.

“Seriously?” he laughed too.

“Yeah, chalked it up to simple, completely straight, curiosity,” I said. “Your brain will go to incredible lengths to prevent you from knowing something you don’t want to know.”

His smile disappeared at that. “You didn’t want to know that about yourself?”

“Well, now, it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’ve accepted it,” I sighed. “But when it first hit me, I was kind of upset, maybe a little disappointed. Even though I knew it was unreasonable to be disappointed, it’s not like I could control it. I just thought of it as an unnecessary complication.”

I didn’t have to explain that one. He just nodded.

“Do your parents know?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “Why would they?”

“Well, they are your parents,” he replied.

“True. But telling them right now would be pointless,” I said. “You know, I’d like to think that if I were to ever fall in love, and it just so happened to be with another man, I would introduce him to them with utmost pride. But as it is, there’s still a good chance of me falling in love with a woman. So if I told them the truth today, every boyfriend I’d bring home would be scrutinized because ‘you have the capability to love a woman, why don’t you?’ And if I do fall in love with a woman, then I’d have caused them all that worry for nothing.”

“You really thought all of this through,” he said.

“Of course I did,” I replied.

He bowed his head and clasped his hands together, sighed and started twiddling his thumbs. Nervous. I reached out and tentatively rested my hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. He didn’t push me away, and that calmed me down a little. We’re fine. Of course we are.

“Hyung,” he whispered, looking at me from the corner of his eye. “I’m going to tell you something and… please promise me you won’t tell anyone else.”

“I promise,” I didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“I think-” he started, swallowed. I squeezed his shoulder. “I think I might… like boys too.”

“Okay,” I said softly, rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. He exhaled roughly then gasped. “Look at me,” I told him and when he did, I looked him in the eyes. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know, I’m not even sure,” he started rambling. “It’s not like – I’ve never even kissed a boy. Or a girl. Let alone – I don’t know.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s okay to be confused.”

And he whispered, “I’m sick of being confused.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled him into a hug. He buried his face into my neck and wrapped his arms around me tightly. My heart clenched. Here I was, worrying about nonsense while my best friend was struggling. I tugged him even closer, rested my hand on the back of his head.

“I wish I could give you all the answers,” I whispered. “But I can’t. You’re the only one who can find them.”

He nodded into my shoulder. “I don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to rush,” I said. “You’ll figure it all out when you’re ready.”

“I am ready.” He insisted, but his voice was weak.

“I’m sorry for not noticing,” I said. “It must have felt awful to keep it to yourself.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I didn’t want you to notice.”

“I still should have,” I said.

“You know what’s kind of funny?” he asked. “I thought – when I saw you yesterday, I was really surprised at first. But then I started thinking, and I figured that if you were using that… thing, it meant you were gay. So I thought that if I did that – if I did what you were doing, that would be my way of figuring out if I was gay. But you said it’s not like that, so…” he barked out a laugh. “Maybe it’s actually not that funny.”

“I don’t think that whether you like putting things up your butt or not has anything to do with your sexuality,” I said. “Some straight guys like it, some gay guys don’t. But I don’t know, maybe you should. If you do that and picture a man with you. Maybe the actual act would make the whole image more vivid, help you figure out what you want. If you think it’ll help... why not?”

“This is kind of awkward,” he commented all of the sudden.

“What is?” I asked as he pulled out of the hug, smiling just a little.

“Talking about-“ he said. “-you know.”

“Sex? Masturbation? Sexuality?” I asked.

“Yes.” He replied.

“It shouldn’t be,” I said. “You know, if – if you ever need any help, or advice, I can’t say I have a tone of experience, but if there’s anything I can help with, I will.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He stood up and reached a hand out to me. I took it and raised to my feet. My head was strangely blank. I felt cleaner. We picked up our bags, then looked at each other.

“So we’re okay,” I said. It didn’t sound like a question.

“Always.”

***

Not much changed since that day, but I did feel like we got even closer. I didn’t lose his respect like I was worried I would. He might respect me even more now. That night, when I went to sleep, I thought for a long time about that conversation. I tried to look back, search for signs that I missed, something that would have clued me in on his struggle, but everything seemed like normal behavior to me. Complimenting men, making physical contact with men. Maybe I should have read into it more, but I didn’t.

I was a little mad at myself really. But he wasn’t mad at me. He kept smiling shyly whenever our eyes locked. Little smiles. Just for me. It made my stomach flip.

I refused to call that feeling in my belly ‘butterflies’. That would insinuate too much. And it wouldn’t be fair to him if I started thinking about him that way. He needed to go through his own journey, without me interfering. It didn’t matter that every time he hugged me, I felt heat rise to my cheeks, or that whenever he changed in front of me, I couldn’t look away. Or that every time I jerked off, he was right there, in my head, not leaving. Those were my problems to deal with, not his.

Two weeks went by smoothly. All of us were busy, our schedules were filled to the brim. I was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. It was an ‘I’m working hard doing the thing I love’ tired. We were getting photographed again, the usual routine – group photos, then individually.

Jimin got to go first with the individual ones this time, then Taehyung, and I went after him. Taehyung told us that he was going to wait for Jeongguk to finish his shoot as well. I decided to just go back home. I didn’t search for Jimin right away. I went into the bathroom, cleaned myself up, then changed into comfortable clothes. I didn’t necessarily need to go to Jimin right now, but I wanted to. I pretended it’s not because I was getting clingier.

The door to his and Hoseok’s room was closed, and I managed to knock only once when a distressed sound came from inside the room. I was worried for exactly two seconds before I heard that noise again and – nope. Absolutely not. This is not happening. I already turned away from the door when he called out.

“Yoongi hyung,” his voice was strained.

“Yeah?” I tried to sound calm.

“I think I’m doing it wrong,” he really did sound distressed. “It really does hurt.”

My heart rate went from moderately calm to racing so fast my head actually spun. I didn’t know if it was more because now I knew exactly what he was doing, or trying to do, in there. Or because I was worried about him being in pain. But I didn’t know what to do. What the hell do you do in this kind of situation?

“Hyung,” he called again. “Can you help?”

I looked up at the ceiling and exhaled roughly. Can I help. Helping means coming in there and… seeing. And I can’t see him, not like that. I can’t. It’ll be too much. Because there is no pretending, I am getting clingy. And too attached. And it’s all too real all of the sudden.

But he needs me. He’s asking for help, and I promised. And I can’t let him down. So screw it. I’ll let myself break if it means I can keep him together.

“I’m coming in,” I said.

I pushed the door in slowly, gave him time to prepare himself. He was on the bed against the headboard, legs spread, holding a large white pillow between them with one hand, while the other was beneath it. And fuck, was I grateful for that pillow. It made things so much easier.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he whispered, not looking at me. He was still wearing a shirt, and his pants and underwear were around his ankles. There was sweat gathering on his forehead and he was breathing unsteadily.

“You’re probably not doing anything wrong,” I kept my voice level, reassuring. “It’s possible you just don’t like it.”

“But it hurts,” he still wasn’t looking at me. “You said it doesn’t.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t hurt,” I said. “It usually does hurt in the beginning, especially if you’ve never done it before. It gets better though.”

“It’s not getting better,” he whispered. And god did he look embarrassed. If just talking about these things made him feel awkward, then this must be awful.

“Uhm…” I really didn’t know what to tell him. He wasn’t even letting me see, so how was I supposed to know?

I turned away from him for a moment, tried to make him feel less scrutinized. The room had its usual amount of clutter, but I couldn’t find one important thing.

“Where’s the lube?” I asked. “I don’t see it.”

“I didn’t use any,” he replied.

“What?” I looked back at him. “Why?”

“I don’t have any. I used spit,” his voice got defensive. “It’s just one finger anyway.”

“God, Jimin, you should know better,” I remarked. “Who taught you to use spit?”

He paused, blushed even more. “Porn?”

I was about to make another comment but managed to stop myself.

“Just… wait,” I said, turning away. “I’ll be right back.”

I didn’t bother to close the door when I stepped out of the room, just ran as quickly as I could into my studio. I wasn’t even thinking when I pulled the box out and grabbed the lube, but then I stopped.

The thing was fucking staring at me. Why would I bring it? There’s no reason to bring it. Why am I even considering it? He did say he wanted to ‘do what I was doing.’ Wasn’t this what he meant? Probably not. He probably meant he wanted to get one of his own. But maybe not? It’s not like I want him to use it. Do I? No. It’s mine.

But then my hand was around it before I even fully finished considering what I was doing.

I got back to the room quickly. He was in the exact same position as when I left, except that he was actually looking at me now. His eyes fell on the dildo then raised back up to my face, but he didn’t say anything. There was no reaction at all.

I considered throwing the things at him, if just to keep the distance between us but- no, just no. So I walked towards him, stood between his and Hoseok’s bed, then placed the toy and the lube onto the sheets beside him.

“You don’t have to use…” I glanced at the dildo. “But do use the lube.”

Then I turned around to leave.

“Wait,” he said. When I looked at him, he turned his face away.

“What?” I asked softly.

“Nothing, uhm, just…” he mumbled. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Just slick up your fingers,” I said. “And you’ll be fine.”

He squirmed and clutched the pillow harder. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he just bit his lower lip and stayed quiet. I turned to go again and actually made a few steps towards the door this time.

“Hyung,” he spoke so quietly I barely heard him. “Don’t go.”

I did my best to control my breathing when I turned to him. He still wasn’t looking at me, and his body was tense. I wanted to ask why he wanted me to stay, but really, I was afraid to know the answer. The last thing I wanted was for him to think of me as just someone to experiment on, someone to help him figure out what he likes. The other possibility was too much to hope for.

I was about to say that I shouldn’t stay when there was a knock on the front door. We looked at each other in panic. I started to leave again.

“Please,” he said, his voice urgent.

I turned around and closed the door behind me. Whoever it is at the front door has a key. Jimin hissed when he pulled his other hand out from under the pillow. Both of his arms were wrapped around the pillow now. I locked the door and stood in place, not knowing where he wanted me to be.

We listened as the front door opened, Jeongguk’s and Taehyung’s voices were perfectly clear. Neither of us moved until we heard the door to Taehyung’s bedroom close, and the too loud sounds of a video game came blasting through the walls. I sighed in relief. Although I didn’t know if he actually wanted to keep going now or not. He answered that by patting the spot on the bed beside him. His hand was trembling.

I breathed in deep through my nose and walked towards the bed. I tucked one leg under myself when I sat down beside him, facing him. My heart was racing but I kept my breathing even, for his sake. It wouldn’t do him any good if he saw that I was nervous.

“How do you want me to help?” I whispered, even though I knew that there was no chance Jeongguk and Taehyung could hear us.

His eyes found mine when he said, “Tell me what to do.”

I took another deep breath and looked at the pillow. I didn’t know how he wanted to do this and leave it there at the same time. And I needed to calm down. Right now. I had to remind myself that I’m here. This is happening. That I need to adapt now.

“If you don’t want it to hurt,” I started, keeping my voice level. “The most important thing is to be relaxed. Your body needs to be calm, and it can’t do that if your mind is nervous,” He nodded. “Try not to give this too much meaning. Don’t think of this as your journey to self discovery. Think later. Right now, be open minded, and at least try to enjoy it.”

“How do I relax?” he asked.

“I think the first thing is that you’re too restricted,” he tilted his head. “Your pants, underwear. You’re a flexible guy, and you’re restricting yourself from being in the positions you’re most comfortable in.”

I was surprised at how quickly he listened. He kicked his legs out, pushed the pants and the underwear away, then spread his legs again, wider this time.

“More comfortable?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he looked at me expectantly.

“Next thing is lube,” I picked up the bottle. “Always lube. If I could work a finger into myself with just spit, it’s because I know how to relax my body, and I like that little bit of burn. But you’re new at this. Doesn’t matter if it’s one finger or four, always lube.”

He reached a hand out then looked down at the pillow and frowned.

“Do you mind if I…?” he asked, nodding once towards the pillow.

“Do I mind?” Was he actually waiting for my permission? I composed myself. “I guess it’s only fair.”

“What?” he frowned again.

“Well,” I tried to smile. “You did see me.”

He huffed out a laugh and locked eyes with me for just a moment before pealing the pillow away from himself. His cock was laying limply on his groin, leaning to the side a little. His balls hanging heavily right above his hole. It looked pinker than I’d have thought it would, probably a little inflated because of the dry prodding. He flailed his hands for a moment, seemingly not sure where to put them, before letting them land on his thighs. He didn’t try to cover himself, let me look as much as I wanted. But I didn’t keep my eyes there for long. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. His fingers were twitching on his thighs.

“Are they sensitive?” I didn’t even think before asking. “Your thighs.”

“A little,” he answered.

“Rub them,” my words came out confident, even though I was nervous. “Relax yourself.”

He listened, sliding his hands over his thighs up to his knees. He was watching me now, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from my face. He slid his hands back down and this time, he ran them over the inside of his thighs.

His body was visibly relaxing, muscles unwinding. He even leaned further back against the bed, though his eyes remained fixed on me. It’s strange how even though I was completely clothed, under his gaze, I felt more naked than I’ve ever been. I was very aware of everything. My breathing, my hands resting on my leg, the bottle of lube heavy in my palm, the way that the blood was slowly reaching down between my thighs.

I tried to not let myself get hard, though I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to stop it. All I wanted was to hold off long enough so that I could leave when he told me to without embarrassing myself. Or worse, embarrassing him.

He wasn’t hard at all yet, probably still too nervous. I didn’t know how to help with that. His hands were moving steadily up and down his inner thighs, and nowhere else.

“You can-“ I cut myself off. He stopped, waited for me to continue. “You can touch anywhere you want, anywhere sensitive. Anything that makes you feel good.”

His hands stilled on his thighs, then one slowly lifted up. He reached that hand under his shirt while the other slid down, fingers tentatively touching his balls. I could see his hand moving under the shirt, stopping when it reached one of his nipples. He tugged his balls down gently and sighed, his eyelids drooping. I watched in surprised fascination as his cock immediately started filling up, not all the way hard, but getting there.

For someone so incredibly shy, he sure didn’t hesitate to follow instructions. Whatever happens after this, at least he’ll find out one thing today. He’s an absolute exhibitionist. And I just might be a voyeur.

I reached my hand out to him, the one with the lube, but rather than take it from me, he let go of his balls and opened his palm. I snapped the cap of the bottle open and poured some lube onto his fingers. I gave him more than I usually used myself, I figured he’d need it. He reached that hand down between his legs, not touching anything, just resting there, waiting. He pulled his other hand from under his shirt and placed it on his thigh again.

“Don’t push in at first,” my voice sounded lower all of the sudden. “Rub it around slowly. Get used to the feeling of being touched there.”

He didn’t react at first, but after a few moments of rubbing himself gently, he sighed.

“Good?” I asked and he nodded.

I could feel my cock hardening and there was nothing I could do to hide it. He wasn’t looking at it though, still had his eyes on my face. I wasn’t sure what he was seeing there, but whatever it was seemed to captivate him.

“Push in when you’re ready,” I said. He spread his legs even wider and stilled. “Breathe and do it slowly. Be gentle with yourself.”

He gasped when the tip of his finger breached him, paused to take a deep breath, then kept pushing. He looked fucking beautiful. I gripped my own thighs harshly. My fingers were itching to move closer to him. I wanted him to feel so good. But I wasn’t going to touch him, he never asked for that. It wasn’t part of the deal, I was only helping.

“Talk to me,” I whispered. “Does it still hurt?”

“No,” he gasped. “Feels weird. But good. Better.”

“You’re doing really well,” I watched as his cock twitched at my words, filling up more, lying flat on his belly.

When his finger was all the way inside, he finally closed his eyes. He was breathing heavier and his nails were digging into the meat of his thigh. He pulled out a little then pushed back in. His breathing hitched and so did mine.

“That’s good, perfect,” I whispered, watched his cock twitch again.

“It’s starting to feel really good,” he sighed, starting to move more consistently.

I didn’t respond. He really was doing perfectly well on his own. There was no longer a need for me to be there.

“I should go,” I said. I sort of wanted to go. I was completely hard in my sweatpants, the outline of my cock easily visible. I wanted to leave so I could run somewhere and jerk myself off in solitary shame. But his response surprised me.

“Why would you do that?” he said it so casually, like he was genuinely bewildered. Then his finger stopped moving, his eyes opened, and he mumbled quickly. “I mean, you can go if you want to.”

He sounded so hesitant all of the sudden, even a little upset. I didn’t want that. I dug my nails into my thigh, and his gaze finally traveled to the bulge between my legs. He didn’t respond verbally, but his finger pushed back in quickly. He whimpered and looked away, insecure. So I guess I’m not leaving.

“Push in another one,” there was a demanding edge to my tone.

He turned me again and relief washed over his face. He didn’t wait at all before pushing the second finger in. It was too fast and he hissed in pain. He was nervous again.

“Relax,” I said sternly. He whimpered in frustration, sweat was gathering on his brow. “I’m not leaving.”

He nodded and took a deep shaky breath. “It kind of hurts.”

“A little burn, right?” he nodded. “That’s part of it. It’ll go away in a moment. You just need to distract yourself.”

“How?” he asked.

“Stroke yourself,” my heart was pounding. “It’ll help.”

He didn’t hesitate for even a second. His hand wrapped around his shaft tentatively, his eyes searching my face. He pushed his fingers deeper inside at the same time that he started stroking.

A small moan left his lips, his hips pushing down hard against his fingers. My hands curled into fists. I pressed my forearm against my cock, tried to relieve some pressure. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice, but of course he did. He started rocking onto his own fingers faster. The muscles on both of his arms were straining.

My gaze fell on the dildo, still lying on the bed beside him. He looked at it too, and before I could say anything, he let go of his cock and picked up the toy. His small fingers barely closed around it.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off, “I want to.”

I was going to say something, anything. About how he didn’t have to, or how it might be too much for the first time, too big. But I couldn’t. Just the thought of him putting into himself what has been in me so many times… I could literally feel the precome seeping out of me. It was fucking selfish, but apparently, I wasn’t that strong willed.

I opened the lube bottle again and took the toy from him. His two fingers were moving much more confidently now, and he watched as I poured the slick liquid onto the dildo. I wrapped my palm around it to spread the lube, and he whimpered, long and drawn out, like the noise was being pulled out of him. When I realized that he was watching me stroke the toy and reacting to that, I shivered.

“This will hurt significantly more,” I warned him. “You really don’t have-“

“I said I want to,” he cut me off again, and the sureness in his voice surprised me.

I handed the dildo to him. He eyed it for a moment, thinking about something. When he pulled his fingers out, he hissed. He placed his hand on the sheets, then brought the dildo to his hole.

He pressed it against his entrance and breathed in deep. His eyes were shut tight, his face scrunched up. He shook his head.

“It won’t go in,” he said, his voice strained.

“Push against it,” I said. He grunted in frustration. “Come on, open up for me.”

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was just about to panic when he moaned loudly, the tip of the toy breaching him. His hand flew up to his mouth, shutting himself up. It didn’t stop the noises though, moans and whimpers. His cock was still hard.

“I know it hurts,” I said. “Take a few deep breaths, keep quiet and stroke yourself.”

He listened, breathed in deeply through his nose and removed his hand from his mouth. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and started stroking quickly. His eyes were shut again, and I took that opportunity to grab my cock and stroke it once. It felt too good, even through two layers of fabric.

He pushed the toy in halfway through, then stopped.

“Hyung,” he opened his eyes. “It’s too much.”

“Angle it up a little,” I instructed. “Find your prostate.”

He hesitated for only a moment, then did as I said. He pushed the toy in and out, every time in a different angle. Then a noise of pain slipped past his lips and he stopped, shook his head again.

My hand raised up towards him. I wasn’t going to touch him, I didn’t intend to move at all. He saw my hand as it stuck midair. I began moving it back down.

“No, wait,” his voice was urgent. “Do it.”

“What?” I whispered, panicked.

“Do it,” he repeated. “Please.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. He sighed in frustration, let go of his cock and grabbed my arm. I didn’t really have time to even think about that because he was moving my hand closer between his legs.

I wasn’t going to do it. Doing it would be selfish, and this wasn’t about me. It was about him and what he wanted. He was just doing this because he could see that it’s what I wanted. He must have understood my hesitation though, must have guessed what it was about.

“Please,” his voice was soft now. “I need you to help.”

His words made it seem like it was all for him, but I knew better. None of that mattered though. I just couldn’t refuse him.

I had to use my left hand to be able to remain sitting where I am, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered when I replaced his hand at the base of the toy. The resistance was insane when I pulled it back.

I could imagine what he was feeling. Tight, burning hot. Full for the very first time.

And I was the one filling him. That’s all I could think about when I slowly pushed the toy back in.

I couldn’t dwell on that thought for too long. It would drive me insane. I almost resented this fucking dildo at that moment for being the first one to make Jimin feel this way.

His palm wrapped around his shaft again. I looked into his eyes when I pushed the toy just a little bit further inside. His mouth was slack with pleasure, but his forehead was creased with pain. The next time I pushed into him, I made sure to angle it just the right way.

He cried out, shut his mouth with his hand again. His eyes opened wide, and I couldn’t help but smirk a little. At first, I slid the dildo slowly into him. But the moment his hips started pushing against it, asking for it, I sped up, made sure to graze his prostate every time I pushed in. His stroking matched the rhythm of my thrusts, and the head of his cock was wet from all the precome.

His hand was supposedly blocking his moans, but I had to shush him anyway. If he kept up like this, Taehyung and Jeongguk were going to hear him even over the music.

It was getting stupidly difficult to keep up the steady thrusting, my hand was actually cramping. And when he removed his palm from his mouth, looked me in the eye and whispered the word, “harder,” I felt like I couldn’t provide.

I swore and let go of the dildo. He whimpered loudly, looked like he was ready to swear right back at me. When I climbed up onto the bed he gasped. If he wanted it harder, this is the only way it was going to happen.

I got on my hands and knees in front of him. If I were actually fucking him I’d have braced my hand on his thigh or on his knee, or somewhere else on his body. But I was stubborn and still refused to touch him. I placed my left hand beside him, while my right gripped the base of the dildo again.

At the first thrust, he threw his head back. Everything in my body was yelling at me to latch right onto his neck and mark him, but I didn’t dare. He was riding the thrusts now, rocking his body back and forth. It looked like I was fucking him. It felt like torture not to be fucking him.

He stopped stroking his dick, held the base of it tightly.

“Are you close?” I asked, and god, I didn’t even realize I was this breathless.

He nodded. His fingertips were actually white from how hard he was gripping himself.

The knock on the front door made us both stop. Someone else came back. The panic was way worse this time around. I was just praying that it wasn’t Hoseok. The music from Taehyung’s room stopped, then we heard quick footsteps moving towards the front door. Jimin was panting but otherwise quiet. His body was still rocking onto the dildo in aborted little movements. I was almost sure he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

When we heard Namjoon’s voice, it was only half relieving. The door to Taehyung’s room closed again, and the music came back on, but it was much quieter this time. And neither of us knew where Namjoon went.

“You’re gonna have to be really quiet now,” I whispered.

He nodded quickly, and I started thrusting the toy into him again. He stroked himself quickly and kept quiet.

He removed his hand from his mouth and whispered, “more.”

Rather than putting his hand back where it was, he placed it on my shoulder. A burst of heat went all the way down my body. My cock was throbbing, I felt like I was actually going to cum in my pants.

He was biting his lower lip hard, his hand was flying on his dick. It became more difficult to move the dildo inside him because he was clenching so hard. His fingernails were digging into my shoulder.

“Yoongi,” he whispered, warning me.

“Come on,” I urged. “Cum for me.”

It was like a trigger, his whole body stiffened, and he moaned, loud. I looked at him in shock. I needed to shut him up, right now.

I kissed him. Couldn’t think of any other way to do it.

He was surprised into silence. But after a moment, his lips pursed against mine. He was kissing back. I shuddered and came.

My whole body flushed. From the orgasm. From the shame. I moved away from his lips quickly and looked away. He touched my cheek tentatively, turned my face back to him. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were a bright pink, eyelids drooping. His shirt was covered in cum.

“Did you just…?” he whispered.

I felt myself blush, and he smiled at me. A beautiful smile, eyes crinkled at the edges. I couldn’t take that smile. I felt like it was burning me.

I tore my gaze away from his face, looked down and said, “Breathe deep, I’m pulling it out.”

He hissed when the dildo slipped out. I placed it on the bed beside him.

“You’re gonna have to keep it here for a while,” I spoke, my voice was strangely void. He was frowning when I looked up at him. “I can’t risk taking it back to the studio right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” he sounded angry, and I couldn’t blame him.

I shouldn’t have kissed him. He never asked for that. I stole that from him. A proper first kiss, with someone he loved, someone he wanted. Someone that meant something.

“Uhm… you should change your shirt or something,” I said, pulled away from him and stood up. “Before Hoseok comes back.”

“Yeah,” he pulled his legs back together.

“I’m gonna…” I pointed at the door.

“Yeah,” he turned away from me.

I walked towards the door. My body was a lot colder all of the sudden, there were shivers going up and down my back. Before I opened the door, I turned back to him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He turned back to me. “For kissing you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

His face looked carefully blank and he didn’t say anything. My heart ached.

I slipped out of the room quickly and bolted towards the bathroom. Thankfully, I didn’t run into anyone on the way there. I felt horrible. How could I let myself do that to him?

***

I didn’t see him again that day. I locked myself in my studio, drowned myself in work, tried and failed to not think about everything. I fell asleep in front of the computer and woke up with a horrible pain in my back, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my fucking chest. I had no idea what to do now, what to tell him, how to act around him. I was actually worried he might dislike me now, just like that. One stupid mistake and everything between us – gone.

Namjoon rung the bell to my studio in the morning, forcing me to get up to unlock it. The moment he saw me, his face twisted into a concerned expression.

“Did you sleep in here?” he asked. I nodded, wiped the sleep out of my eyes. “I wanted to show you some lyrics I wrote, see what beat you can come up with for them. But you look like… you were hit by a bus or something. Did you eat anything?” I shook my head. “Right, come with me.”

I followed him into the kitchen. I knew Jimin wasn’t here right now. Dance line was in the studio, working with the choreographer. Namjoon forced me to go to the bathroom and wash up. Then he made me a bad omelet and I ate it. The food made me feel slightly better, but not really.

I put on a composed face for Namjoon, pretended that everything was fine. He saw right through me though and tried to ask me about it, but when I avoided answering him multiple times, he stopped pushing. We worked on lyrics and beats together for a little while, and then he left me alone again. I didn’t stop working for a single moment. It was either that or torture myself some more.

Sometime around two PM there was another ring. I got up, opened the door. Hoseok was the one ringing, but the others were behind him too. I couldn’t see Jimin’s face, only saw the back of his head as he talked to Taehyung.

“We’re going out for lunch,” Hoseok said. “Are you coming?”

I contemplated for a moment. I still wasn’t sure I could face Jimin, and quite frankly, I wasn’t that hungry. I shook my head. “I’ll stay here, eat whatever we have in the fridge. Composing is going really well, I don’t want to stop right now.”

His eyebrows knit together momentarily, but then he nodded. I didn’t bother locking the door to my studio when they all left. I still didn’t see Jimin’s face when he passed by my door. Though, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.

I sat down and placed my headphones back on. For whatever reason, I couldn’t actually get anything done in that moment. Even just seeing the back of his head was enough to send my thoughts spiraling again.

I crossed my arms on the table and placed my head on them. I felt like my heart was broken.

When someone touched my shoulder, I jumped. Jimin jumped too.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he said hurriedly. I thought he left.

“I thought you left,” I gasped.

“I was going to, but then you didn’t, so I didn’t,” he said. “I wanted to see you, talk to you.”

“I’m not really sure what to say,” I confessed.

“Then don’t say anything,” he retorted. “Just listen.”

He sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to him. When I didn’t stand up right away he tilted his head and glared at me. I stood up and reluctantly sat on the couch. I wanted to squeeze myself into the corner and curl up into a ball, but I didn’t. I got a hold on myself, tucked one leg under my thigh and turned to him. He crossed his legs on the couch and faced me. We weren’t touching. I clasped my hands together and stayed quiet. He looked determined.

“I want to clear things up, tell you the truth,” he said. I waited. “When we talked a few weeks ago, in the studio. I told you that I was confused, that I wasn’t sure if I was gay or straight or whatever. Well, I only told you half the truth.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I was confused about my sexuality, still am, really,” he spoke. “I think I like women. I don’t have any experience of my own to go on, but I think they’re pretty, they smell good,” he barked out a laugh. “I don’t know. I like looking at them when I watch porn,” he stopped, looked me in the eye for a moment, then continued. “I never watched gay porn, never thought of men that way. But then a little while ago, I had this dream, about a boy I’m living with. Don’t know if you know him, he’s a really good composer, plays the piano, a little cold on the outside but actually really sensitive on the inside. I have so much respect for him.”

I looked away from him. I sort of wanted to smile at his words, but I didn’t. It felt like he was going to straight up deny me, tell me to my face what an asshole I was. Like he was trying to soften the blow.

“I kind of panicked, when I woke up that morning. It felt wrong to have this kind of dream about him, like I was disrespecting him,” he said. And wait, what? “And why would I even do that? If I’m straight and he’s straight. And obviously he’s straight. He even had a girlfriend,” he took a deep breath. My heart rate picked up. I didn’t understand. “But then the dreams just kept coming, and I started looking at him differently during the day too. Seeing him shirtless or sweaty or with a really nice suit on would… affect me. And every time I watched him working and smiling and loving life, my heart would do this… this thing. And whenever I had a private moment in the shower, rather than think about all the porn girls, I’d think about him.”

“Jimin-“ I started, but he cut me off.

“No, let me talk,” I shut up. “That’s what made me really confused,” he sounded almost like he was accusing me. “So I started researching. I watched gay porn for the first time, and then a bunch of other times. But it didn’t really do anything for me. None of those men made me feel anything. Physically or emotionally - nothing. But thinking about him…” he swallowed. “So I stopped watching gay porn, or any other porn. I stopped searching for answers and just decided that this one guy was somehow an exception. Not like it mattered anyway, he was straight, right? He’d have told me if he wasn’t.”

“I thought you knew,” I whispered. He looked mad.

“And then the fateful night, when I caught you,” he ignored me, but his voice became a bit softer. “I really did believe that if you were doing that, if you were using that, it meant you were gay. And it messed up everything,” he whispered angrily. “It completely destroyed the order in my head. When I ran back to my room that night, I jerked off under the covers. Hoseok hyung was sleeping right next to me, and I did it anyway. Couldn’t even go soft after the first time, had to do it again. Twice. I did it twice.” He really was accusing me now. “And when we talked the next day, you were so sweet,” his voice broke. “So nice. And I felt bad because I couldn’t tell you everything, I couldn’t. But there was something else there too… something that I felt like you weren’t telling me.”

“I- I’m-“ I mumbled when he stopped talking. He moved closer to me, pressed his knees against me. His voice was barely a whisper.

“I realized what it was over the next few days when every time I looked at you, you blushed. You don’t blush easily, you know. And that made me notice everything else too,” his eyebrows were furrowed when he looked into my eyes. My heart was pounding. “It gave me butterflies… I didn’t even know what butterflies felt like before that.”

He stopped, looked at me uncertainly, like he was trying to gauge my reaction. But all I could do was stare at him in shock.

“So I devised a plan,” he continued. “To lure that boy. To seduce him,” he laughed at himself, shook his head. “I had no idea what I was doing. But I knew I needed to do something, because he wasn’t going to. So yesterday, I got ready in my room, knowing that this boy was going to come back any minute. I was gonna moan his name loudly when he passed by,” he laughed again. “But thankfully I didn’t need to, because he came to me, knocked on my door,” he smiled. “I pretended to be completely clueless, thought that would make him want to help me. It really was my first time doing all of that by the way, but I knew the basics. Even if it was just from online research. I even pretended I didn’t understand the importance of lube,” he stopped, looked at me seriously. “And it worked. He did everything I wanted him to. Told me what to do, got hard in his pants, even fucked me with his own dildo – can’t say I expected that one.”

I gaped at him and blushed, opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“And then the truly unexpected,” he whispered. “You kissed me. I thought I was gonna have to work hard for that, that it would take time. But you just kissed me. I felt like my heart was going to explode. And you can tell yourself that you did it because you were trying to shut me up and there was no other way. Tell yourself anything you want. But I see you, I know you.” He frowned. “I wanted to punch you,” he spit. “When you pulled away from me, when you didn’t kiss me a second time. When you apologized. Because somehow, in your head, it made sense to make me orgasm, but kissing me or touching me was crossing a line.”

“I thought you didn’t want-“ I mumbled. “That you were just-“

“Yeah, yeah, you thought I was using you. Idiot,” he was so angry. “I would never do that to you. I’d never do that to us. Because it doesn’t matter whether I’m gay, or bisexual or demisexual or whatever. None of that matters. No one else matters! I love you!” he yelled. “And no – don’t talk right now. You love me too. Don’t even try to pretend you don’t,” he stopped. His hands curled into fists. He was panting. I was frozen. His voice lowered. “I swear to god, if you don’t kiss me right now-“

So I kissed him. I kissed him deep and frantic and ruthless. I kissed him so hard I wasn’t even breathing.

My hands were everywhere, I couldn’t stop touching him. His fingernails were digging into the back of my neck, and I was hoping, praying that he’d leave a mark there. That I would wake up tomorrow and it would still be real.

This was his first kiss, not that other one. And god, he really didn’t know what he was doing but he was so enthusiastic, so needy. His hands kept pulling on my shirt, trying to get it off. It was stupidly difficult to stop kissing him, but I had to. I got up on my knees and he followed, kept pulling my shirt up until I lifted my hands and let him take it off. He raised his hands immediately, let me pull off his shirt too.

And then skin. So much skin. Chest to chest, burning hot. He dragged his fingernails down my back and I shivered, threaded my fingers into his hair. And when he gripped my ass, I moaned so loudly it was almost embarrassing.

I grabbed his hips and ground my cock against his. We were both hard. Every sound he made, I savored. Getting to feel him, getting to hear him, it was overwhelming. My nerves were on fire. When he cupped the front of my pants in his hand, he was the one who moaned. He didn’t try stroking me, just palmed my cock through the two layers I was wearing, learning my shape.

Everything he was doing, inexperienced as he was, drove me closer and closer to insanity. I didn’t know what to do because I wanted to do everything.

“What do you want?” I whispered against his lips. He didn’t stop peppering kisses on my lips even as I spoke. “Please tell me.”

“I want you,” he sighed. I smiled, and he pulled back to look at me, smiling too.

“Yeah, but what do you want to do? Right now?” I asked. My heart was full. “Name anything.”

“Anything?” he whispered, I nodded. There was a glint in his eye. “I want to be inside you.”

I grabbed him with both my palms and kissed him again.

“Is that a yes?” he pulled back, smiling widely.

“Let’s go,” I said, jumped off the couch and pulled him with me.

“Where are we going?” he was laughing.

“My lube is still in your room,” he laughed harder.

I knew that if I had stopped to kiss him even just once on the way to the room, we wouldn’t have made it there. So I pulled him in there by the hand and only when we were in the room with the door closed behind us did I kiss him again. He walked me back to the bed, lips never leaving mine, then shoved me onto it. He was smiling when I landed, biting his lip.

“Look at us, positions reversed,” he said, standing above me. “Does that mean I get to tell you what to do?”

“Do you want to do that?” I asked, curious.

“Strip,” his voice was firm, but the smile on his face was teasing. “Now.”

I didn’t take my time when pushing down my pants and underwear. I did it as quickly as I could, then laid back on the pillow and wrapped my hand around my shaft.

“God, why am I so far away from you?” he mumbled. “What a stupid idea.”

He dropped his pants and underwear and practically jumped onto the bed. I spread my legs when he came closer, let him settle between them. He lowered his body onto me and rolled his hips. His cock slid against mine and we both moaned.

“If I cum now,” he panted. “I’m blaming it on being a virgin.”

“Can I use that excuse too?” I asked. He smacked me playfully on the shoulder and laughed. “Come on, get the lube.”

He reached to the side of the bed and opened one of the drawers. His chest was right above my face, and remembering yesterday, I leaned up and flicked my tongue over his nipple. He grunted and slammed his fist onto the wood. He bit my shoulder before settling back between my legs. I smirked. He leaned down, kissed me once and bit my lower lip.

“Oh, shit,” I sighed.

“What?” he pulled back.

“Condoms are in the studio,” I said.

“That’s too far,” he whined, then gasped. “Oh wait, I know.”

He jumped off me then climbed onto Hoseok’s bed. I opened the lube in the meantime, poured some onto two of my fingers.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I spread my legs and eased one finger into myself.

“I saw condoms in one of his drawers,” he said, standing on all fours and bending down to search the bottom drawer. Fully naked. Ridiculous.

“Why would Hoseok have condoms?” I asked, sliding a second finger along with the first. I sighed, my body was accustomed to this, and I was so used to being quiet while doing it, it didn’t even take effort. I simply stretched myself as quickly and efficiently as I could.

“He’s hopeful?” he said. We both laughed. “Yes!”

When he turned back to me, holding the condom in his hand proudly, his eyes widened.

“Not fair,” he whined. “I wanted to do that.”

“If you started fingering me right now, all slow and sweet, I would have died,” I pulled my fingers back out. “Or more likely, I would have cum. I promise I’ll let you do that any other time.”

He climbed back between my legs, lips stretched into a smile. I was happy that he didn’t look nervous about this because I sure was. He handed me the condom and I raised my eyebrows.

“Don’t want to accidentally rip it,” he shrugged, biting his lip. I ripped the packet with my teeth and rolled the condom onto him. I gave him just one stroke, just to smooth the condom down, before he grabbed my hand and moved it away. Even that – too much. A virgin. It made my head spin.

He picked up the lube and squeezed some onto the head of his dick. It was too much, but I really didn’t care. He placed the bottle aside and braced his hands on either side of my head.

“Why do you look so nervous all of the sudden?” he asked, his eyes were soft.

“Because I am,” I confessed. “Aren’t you?”

“A little,” he smiled, used one delicate finger to move a strand of hair away from my forehead. “But I’m more excited than nervous. I feel safe with you.”

He lowered onto his elbows, and I brought my palm up to cup his cheek. His eyes were mesmerizing.

“I really do love you,” I whispered.

“I know,” he smiled shyly, placed a little kiss on my forehead.

“I think I have for much longer than I realized,” I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

“What was it you said?” his smile widened. “Your brain will go a long way to stop you from knowing something you don’t want to know?”

My heart warmed as I kissed him. It felt like time slowed down, the only thing I could focus on were his lips. How soft and warm they were. The way they opened against mine so smoothly.

I reached my hand between our bodies and took hold of his shaft gently. When I lead him into me, he gasped against my lips. My legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to push forward. And when he was finally all the way inside, he buried his face in my neck. His whole body was shaking.

I could hear myself speaking. Saying things like, “perfect,” and, “you feel so good.” I might have been mumbling the words “I love you” over and over, but I wasn’t sure. It could have just been in my head. I couldn’t think. My body and my head and my heart were all so full of him, there was nothing else at all.

He didn’t move, just breathed heavily into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed with him. When he still hadn’t moved for a few minutes, I rolled my hips. He whimpered. His hips started inching forward, little jabs that seemed to be more instinctive than deliberate. I pushed against him, made sure that every thrust hit me right where I needed it.

We were as close to each other as we could be. Every move had my cock sliding against his stomach. He sped up a little and whispered my name. This orgasm wasn’t like the last one, it didn’t catch me off guard. It built little by little. Heat spread from my stomach, up the back of my neck, through my chest, all the way to the tips of my toes. It washed over me, made my toes curl. Waves and waves of pleasure. Endless.

He whimpered, moaned and stilled. We were both shaking.

We stayed right there for a few minutes. He kissed me again, and it was so slow. His lips and his tongue soft, sliding against mine. He learns everything fast.

When he slipped out of me, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. I watched him stand up, walk towards the little trash can in the corner of the room and throw the condom away. He brought a package of wet wipes on the way back, then kneeled beside me. It was cold when he wiped my stomach, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the fond smile on his face.

He stood up again, threw the wipes away. I was going to ask what he was doing when he opened up his closet, but when I saw him pulling out a blanket I just smiled. There was a blanket on the bed, I knew that for certain, but I guess he just didn’t want to move me. I was hit with a wave of cold air when he covered me, but then he climbed under it and wrapped himself around me and I was warm again. And happy. And sappy. Whatever. I pulled him closer.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed with us just laying like this. I was just thinking about how we should probably get up and eat something, when all of the sudden he moved, looked into my eyes and said, “You’re amazing.”

I blushed, what else was I supposed to do? It was such a random compliment. “Thank you?”

“You are,” he whispered, smiled, touched his nose to mine. “And beautiful.”

“What’s gotten into you?” I laughed.

“I don’t know,” he giggled. “I feel kind of… spaced out.”

“Go to sleep, dumbass,” my voice was too fond for that insult.

“But complimenting you is fun,” he laughed. “You blush so pretty.”

I turned away from him, blushing again.

“I mean, seriously, you’re so pretty,” he teased. “You have the cutest smile, and the cutest little ears-“

“Shut up,” I looked away.

He turned my face to him, “- and these beautiful, talented fingers. And your…” he looked down towards my crotch, “…is truly gorgeous.”

I kissed him, partly to make him stop talking. But mostly just because I wanted to. I climbed on top of him, straddled his hips and pinned his arms to the bed. He was laughing. I might have been chuckling too. When he started rolling his hips, I could feel his dick half hard against me.

“Again already?” I asked. “Really?”

He pouted and nodded. I got that lower lip between my teeth, then ground my hips.

“Okay,” I said. “But this time-“

A knock on the front door. Are you kidding.

I grunted and dropped my head onto his chest. He laughed loudly.

“At least we knock, right?” he asked, still laughing. “Warn each other?”

“Jimin-ah!” that’s Jeongguk yelling. I grunted again.

“At least you locked the door,” he commented. I froze.

“Did I lock the door?” I looked up at him.

There were three quick knocks on the door, and I looked up just in time to see it swing open, Jeongguk opening his mouth to say something. He stopped, looked at us, closed his mouth. His eyebrows creased, eyes squinted. Then his face relaxed, he raised his eyebrows once and opened his mouth again.

No sound came out for a good ten seconds, and then, “Yeah, okay.”

He turned around, didn’t close the door behind him.

We heard him walk a few steps, and then another scream. “Hyungs!”

“Honestly, I need to teach that boy some manners,” I grumbled.

We both laughed.

This was the start of something new.