Chapter Text
Namjoon had been the first to arrive at the hotel.
He expected as much, was always the first to arrive anywhere, when it came to Jeon Jungkook.
His boyfriend was notoriously late, something that went hand-in-hand with his job and his track training, not to mention having to dodge the paparazzi and the media who wanted photos and quotes for their articles, something Namjoon had stopped trying to achieve long ago.
He'd been demoted from sports columns to more mundane news because of it, but it was a happier life, a more carefree life.
And he had Jungkook now too, something he’d never dreamed would be possible.
Pretty Jeon Jungkook, the athlete who had once been the bane of his existence, had once been the source of his torment and stress, was now his cherished and adored lover, who made Namjoon smile so hard it hurt his cheeks whenever they got time to meet. Sometimes it was once a week, and sometimes it was once a month because Jungkook was busy, but Namjoon understood.
His heart was thrumming with excitement being in the hotel room, dropping his stay bag at the foot of the bed, collapsing onto the mattress, checking his phone for any texts. Jungkook had been in Japan training, Hoseok and Yoongi having gone with him, and so far this had been their longest time apart, nearing two months now, Namjoon missing his Jungkookie so much.
I can’t wait to see you , he couldn’t hold it in, had to send the text, wondering if Jungkook was on his way yet. I’ve missed you so much.
I’m in a taxi, the traffic is shit, Jungkook replied quickly, sad emoji. Hyung I wanna kiss you so bad. I wanna show you how hard I’ve been working.
I want you to show me, Namjoon was breathless, just from the thought of it, of being able to kiss Jungkook, to touch, to have their plans come to fruition tonight in this hotel room.
Namjoon was letting Jungkook top him, was gonna let Jungkook fuck him, like he’d promised, all those months ago.
It was supposed to happen sooner really, but time slipped away often, and Jungkook, his whiny bratty baby, sometimes Jungkook just needed a stern hand, needed to have the sense railed out of him, which Namjoon would never say no to, never, ever ever.
So tonight was planned properly and decided on in advance, and Namjoon had brought everything, was even ready now, wriggling on the mattress as he shifted his hips and remembered, the plug in his ass feeling comfortable and delicious, snug inside him as he waited. Namjoon thought he was going to be nervous, but he was thrilled instead, keen to see what sort of person Jungkook would be while fucking him, wondering if he’d still be naughty, still be a brat.
Namjoon wondered if maybe it was his turn to be a tease.
Jungkook liked to take photos when they weren’t able to be together, when Jungkook was overseas and Namjoon couldn’t do anything about it, photos in the mirror, cute selcas, Jungkook hiking up his shirt, showing off his pretty body for Namjoon to drool over and touch himself to.
But Namjoon had never really sent any himself, and he was feeling it now, butterflies in his stomach, his ass clenching around the plug inside him, the press of it making him hot all over, wishing Jungkook was fucking here already.
He’d never really sent photos but it seemed like a good time to start, opening up the camera on his phone, pulling his shorts and briefs down over the jut of his hip bone, not enough to show his cock but enough to hint at it, snapping a shot that captured the light trail of hair leading beneath his clothing, the afternoon sun cast shadows in his pelvis.
In the photo, the curve of his belly looked soft, and the light gave the impression of a v line, a decidedly great combo of sensual and sexy, good enough to send Jungkook’s way.
It was awkward to text dirty, in Namjoon’s opinion, so he kept it brief, factual.
I’m wearing a plug.
Send.
How fucking dare you , the reply came back so fast that it startled Namjoon, the thumb pushing his briefs down slipping in his shock, wincing as the elastic snapped back up at his skin. You gave me a boner in a taxi.
That was a fun thought, and Namjoon chuckled at the imagery, decided to make it worse, hiking his shirt up instead now, crushing his chest together with clenched arms. Jungkook loved his tits, loved grabbing them whenever he could, not even sexually, just… holding them in his palms, and the shadows once again were working magic into these photos, making his chest look massive, his nipples soft and dark, every freckle on them amplified by the sunlight.
I’m bored.
Send.
I’m so fucking hard, Jungkook was never as shy as Namjoon was, when it came to this kinda thing on the phone. God, hyung, I wanna fuck you so bad.
The reaction from the words was a full body shudder, clenching again, huffing from the way the silicone in his ass pressed deeper with each muscle tensed. Namjoon was even feeling light headed from the arousal now, palming at his cock, feeling it firm up beneath his hand. The plan was to leave it at that, tease Jungkook enough to make the brat annoyed, but Jungkook was texting again, small dings joining Namjoon’s huffs in the empty room.
Hyung, I have a fantasy.
Tell me about it, Namjoon felt his heart skip a beat at this, wondering what Jungkook could surprise him with now. Tell hyung your fantasy.
I wanna roleplay, hyung.
Roleplay what?
There was about a minute pause, and it panicked Namjoon, wondering if the mood was gone, if Jungkook was gonna say something wild and scary, maybe something Namjoon knew he could never do. But the message that came through made him whine instead, made his mouth water, gritting his teeth to keep from possibly drooling.
You. Dressed up. Interviewing me, like you always wanted.
I want that , Namjoon was quick to reply, feeling a grin tug at his lips, licking them wet.
Yeah?
Yeah. Jungkook, I want that.
What about tonight? If I bought stuff, for you. To wear.
How long will you be, if you get stuff?
An hour, Jungkook promised, the lack of emojis proving how serious he was. No longer than that.
And when I interview you , Namjoon asked, wanting to go into this surefooted, wanting to know what Jungkook wanted to make this fantasy perfect. Am I seducing you? Do you want me to beg for you?
No.
Namjoon watched his phone, breath caught in his throat, waiting for words that he hadn’t expected to see.
I want you professional.
Proper, and focused.
So I can break you like you deserve.
He was almost too stunned to reply, stunned by the jolt of heat that had zinged up his spine from the words on his screen, from the idea of Jungkook wanting to break him this time, from the idea of Jungkook being the one in charge.
Jungkook was a brat by nature, Jungkook was naughty, acted out for attention, for a smack on his pretty ass, so Namjoon had no idea what to expect from this. Was Jungkook going to go full Dom? Namjoon wanted to laugh at that, the notion so strange, seeming so impossible for his cheeky, playful boyfriend to dream of accomplishing.
Nah, Jungkook wasn’t like that, he wasn’t gonna try that, Namjoon knew for sure.
Roleplay was new though, but Namjoon was into it, had kinda always dreamed this day would come, where they’d dress up and act out all the dirty shit they wanted to, back when Jungkook was behind that table, and Namjoon was raising his hand and being ignored. Thought it would be fun to relive those moments, but relive them in a way where Namjoon was pushing Jungkook down and making him cry, making Jungkook take his cock as punishment for the reporter’s dejection.
But Namjoon wasn’t giving Jungkook his cock tonight – he was taking it instead, so that fantasy now seemed weird, not a punishment for Jungkook anymore but…
… Jungkook’s bratty dream come true.
Making Namjoon submit to him for real, in a way that was different from all the smirks and all the stares, all the questions Namjoon wanted to ask that went unheard because Jungkook had thought it funny.
You little shit, Namjoon wanted to text that instead, wanted to remind Jungkook who was the actual boss here, who was in charge, who could reduce Jungkook into a mess of cum and lube and drool, but there was so much heat inside, building and simmering in his gut, that Namjoon couldn’t ignore.
He wanted it.
He wanted to give Jungkook what Jungkook wanted, wanted to see if Jungkook was capable of breaking him, so he sent the text, a short “I’ll be waiting,”, and tried to ignore the way the plug in his ass was no longer enough.
Don’t touch yourself, Jungkook replied. Okay, hyung?
Namjoon hadn’t been planning on it, but god, now he wanted to touch so bad.
Fine, his reply was sent with a sad emoji. Please hurry baby.
See you soon, hyung~ <3
The wait seemed to fly by between watching the hotel television and replying to emails, his phone dinging as Jungkook sent a message saying he was on his way up, that he’d be at the door in a few minutes, and Namjoon was already freaking, fingers running through his hair, checking himself in the mirror, making sure he wasn’t too unsightly.
The little knock made Namjoon startle, and then he was up, opening the door, barely letting Jungkook get through the door before they were tangled in a warm embrace. They’d both squealed at seeing each other, and Jungkook had tossed all his bags aside to hold Namjoon, pulling each other as close as possible, raining kisses all over each other between giggles.
“ Hyung, I missed you!”
“ I missed you more,” Namjoon felt like he could almost cry, having Jungkook in his arms after so long apart. “Oh my god, Jungkook, I missed you like crazy.”
“ Wow, your hair got so long,” Jungkook gasped, running a hand through it, Namjoon almost purring at the touch. “You look cute.”
“ You’re cute. Did you get a haircut? I swear it was longer last video call.”
“ Yeah, Hobi hyung made me get it done before the flight back, said the media would say my time abroad was spent being “lazy” if I looked unkempt at the airport.”
“ I thought it looked sexy.”
“ Well, maybe I’ll just grow it back out, hmm?”
“ I think you should,” Namjoon grinned, pulling Jungkook flush, kissing the corner of his cherry red lips. “Hyung would like that a lot.”
“ Oh yeah? And why would Namjoonie hyung like my long hair?”
Jungkook let out a breathless laugh as Namjoon laced his fingers through the freshly cut and dyed brown locks, tugging gently.
“ You know why.”
He shuddered as Jungkook’s hand pressed down between them, cupping his now hard cock, sensitive from earlier, from being so horny but unable to touch at all. There was a smirk there too, something familiar, reminding Namjoon of what he was in for tonight, reminding him that Jungkook was gonna be the one calling the shots for now.
“ You still wanna get that interview hyung?”
Jungkook’s voice was sweet but with a hidden danger, like he knew something Namjoon didn’t, that hand working Namjoon to full hardness over his casual pants, Namjoon feeling short of breath already.
“ Yes.”
“ Shall we do it soon?”
“ Whenever you want,” Namjoon felt Jungkook’s hands wander, sneaking around to his ass now, squeezing his cheeks with eager palms. “I’m ready, so, whenever you want--”
Namjoon gasped as Jungkook prodded between his cheeks, pushing against the blunt end of the plug, Namjoon jolting from the sensation into Jungkook’s sturdy body. Jungkook was always smaller than him, lean and fit and perfect, but when Namjoon held onto those arms encircling him, there was definitely more muscle there now, and his brain didn’t really know how to process it.
His dick on the other hand did, twitching against Jungkook in tandem with each tense of the athlete’s biceps, and Jungkook was giggling like he knew, pressing the plug again, leaning in to nip at Namjoon’s earring.
“ Wanna go put on the things I bought you then? I picked everything carefully hyung, so I hope you’ll like them.”
“ Okay,” Namjoon breathed in reply, missing Jungkook’s warmth as the younger pulled away with a wicked grin, only to retrieve a bag from the flooring, from where Jungkook had discarded all his things in his haste to hug Namjoon. The bag was heavy, but Namjoon didn’t peek inside, didn’t dare look until he was in the bathroom, until the door was closed behind him, safe from Jungkook’s smug gaze.
Namjoon glimpsed inside once while he started to strip down, spotting a prop lanyard and a tie sitting atop what looked to be a white button up, very reminiscent to what he used to wear out on the field, in those seats as he tried to score words from Jungkook to put in his articles. It had been a while since he’d got to report like that, now an office man who could dress down and be comfortable, not really missing the suit life too much if he was honest.
It was hot though, the idea of wearing his suit for Jungkook again, like the first time they’d met properly and touched, in a hotel room like this, so so long ago, yielding to Jungkook’s desires this time, keen to see what Jungkook would do to him like this.
Suits symbolised power.
Was Jungkook going to make Namjoon feel powerless?
The true answer came once Namjoon had unpacked the bag properly though, had laid everything out on the luxurious marble counter, had felt his face flush with embarrassment.
Oh.
It wasn’t just powerless, that Jungkook wanted Namjoon to feel.
He wanted Namjoon to feel humiliated too.
It wasn’t a suit, that Jungkook had picked out for Namjoon to wear, like Namjoon had expected.
It was a skirt.
A skirt and heels and stockings, all to pair with his crisp shirt and his tie, like his female colleges would wear, proper, professional and attractive.
A fucking skirt.
Heels.
Stockings.
“ If it’s too much, it’s okay,” Jungkook’s voice was muffled by the door, but Namjoon could sense the worry, could sense the unease in his tone. “Namjoon hyung?”
Namjoon wasn’t even wearing it yet, but he was still embarrassed.
But it was just clothing, in the end, and this was Jungkook’s fantasy.
A little bit of embarrassment wasn’t going to put a stop to that.
“ I’m all good,” Namjoon cleared his throat, hoping Jungkook didn’t pick up on the waver in his words. “I’ll… be out soon.”
“ Okay,” Jungkook murmured, soft and full of want. “I can’t wait to see you.”
Namjoon started with the stockings.
He’d worn stockings before once, as a drunken dare, but they hadn’t been the same quality as the ones Jungkook had picked, feeling like cool dark silk as they slid up his ankles, his knees, his thighs.
They stopped mid thigh, the inner band tight enough to hold them up, Namjoon avoiding his reflection in the mirror, unsure of how he would handle it, seeing himself in sheer black stockings, cock hard between his legs, the back of his ass slightly slick from the lube he’d spread around his hole, keeping himself as prepped as possible.
Then came the skirt, tight and with a slit up the back like all the professional women wore, sliding over his stockings with ease, the bulge from his trapped cock obscene. Namjoon had never had much of an ass, but the black skirt was working wonders on him, showing off every dent of softness, his thighs and his backside silhouetted in a way he knew would drive Jungkook wild.
And then the shirt.
Namjoon had thought it was a mens, but putting it on, seeing how the seams in the front were curved rather than flat, seeing how it flared at where hips should be, proved him wrong quickly. The sleeves were tight too, the fabric straining across his arms, and when he buttoned it up, he was surprised that the buttons weren’t flying off in protest.
His chest pulled the crisp material so that everything was shown, the shape of his pecs, denting where his nipples were, everything jostling and jiggling beneath the white cotton as he reached for his tie, reached for his lanyard. They hung down snug between his tits, and it was lewd, it really was, Namjoon not daring to catch his reflection in the eye.
And lastly, the heels.
Namjoon had never worn heels before.
He bent over to pull them on, slipping his stocking-clad feet into them smoothly, feeling the tips of the shiny black shoes pinch at his toes, forcing his heel into them, gasping from the unpleasantness. They hurt in a weird way, a way that made him want to get on his knees and bow towards any one who could stand to be in them for longer than a minute, overwhelmed with the urge to buy every woman he worked with a bundle of roses, out of respect.
They hurt but it was bearable, and Jungkook knew his size well enough to have really wanted this, so Namjoon would brave them, would wear them for his lover, would do his best to be his best, would do whatever Jungkook wanted.
To have Jungkook’s eyes on him and be happy, that’s all Namjoon wanted.
“ I’m ready,” Namjoon said, refusing to look at his reflection, knowing if he did, he wouldn’t be brave enough to leave the bathroom.
“ Me too,” Jungkook sounded far away, like maybe he was on the other side of the room, and all Namjoon could do was take a deep breath, avoid glancing down at the way his boner tented the skirt, and pray Jungkook didn’t laugh at him.
When Namjoon stepped out into the room, the sight that greeted him confused him, but only for a moment.
Jungkook had rearranged some of the furniture, the table that had been pressed against the wall now pulled into the middle of the room, a chair on either side, Jungkook sitting in one, facing away from Namjoon. There was a clipboard on the table too, on the side Namjoon assumed was his, and he almost wanted to giggle from it, from all the effort Jungkook was putting into this role play.
But then, Jungkook was speaking.
“You’re late, I’ve been waiting for a long time. I thought you wanted this interview?”
Oh shit.
Jungkook was not fucking around.
Namjoon was relieved that he didn’t laugh now, feeling flustered as he stumbled towards the desk in his heels, trying so hard to be quick yet not fall down. His lanyard bumped about his chest in his haste, and he could see his tits bounce beneath his shirt out of his peripherals, making him flush with shame.
The roleplay was almost ruined before it had really even started, the moment Namjoon met Jungkook’s gaze from across the table as he pulled out the chair to sit.
Hunger.
There was hunger in Jungkook’s wide eyes, jaw clenched, like Jungkook was trying so hard not to let his focus break. Namjoon knew he was blushing furiously as those doe eyes dragged down his body, as they paused on Namjoon’s legs, stocking-clad, before drifting up over the rest, flickering between Namjoon’s groin and his chest and his throat.
Namjoon felt like he was about to be cannibalised, like he was a fucking steak hanging before a starved animal.
It scared him a little, but in a way that made his cock twitch.
Professional.
Jungkook wanted him professional.
“ I’m so sorry for making you wait,” Namjoon was well trained when it came to this sort of thing though, uncomfortable interviews, able to put on a calm facade even though he could feel pink flooding down his neck. Jungkook’s eyes followed it, Namjoon clearing his throat. “Is there anything you need before we start?”
Jungkook sat there, silent, arms folded over his heaving chest, swallowing noticeably, trying to look annoyed but failing. Even from here, Namjoon could see the way Jungkook’s pupils were blown wide in the dimly lit room, and he knew he could have Jungkook now if he wanted, but that’s not what this was.
Jungkook wanted this scene, had asked for it and had gotten everything prepared.
Jungkook said he wanted to break Namjoon.
So Namjoon decided to play properly.
“ Nothing to drink?” Namjoon tried again, the ever polite reporter, wanting to make his subject comfortable, so he’d be more willing to give up potential juicy information.
“ Let’s not waste more time,” was all Jungkook came back with, the corners of his lips curling, like he wanted to sneer. “I’ve got other places to be.”
Fucking brat.
Namjoon said nothing to this though, taking his seat instead, trying not to gasp as the firm surface of the chair put pressure on the plug in his ass, trying to ignore the way the clothing suddenly got infinitely tighter as his thighs and stomach and chest relaxed. He didn’t glance down to see how badly the buttons were straining the fabric, but Jungkook was looking, was licking his lips wet absentmindedly, so Namjoon knew it had to be noticeable.
At least his feet didn’t hurt so much anymore.
And so, the interview began.
Namjoon set everything up as if it was a real interview too, pen and paper ready for his fast annotations, phone on the table, recording as if he would run over the audio over and over for his articles to publish.
He even got Jungkook to voice his consent, stating his name and the date, stating that everything said was to be taken as the truth, and Jungkook looked smug the entire time, knowing that not so long ago, Namjoon would have given anything for this very moment to be real.
The knowledge of that made Namjoon a little annoyed, admittedly, but he didn’t let it show, kept his expression as neutral as possible, beginning the ‘interview’ with basic questions to warm Jungkook up the way he would with any other person.
Questions about childhood and if anything from growing up inspired Jungkook to become a track runner, about his workout routines, his diet, the things that Namjoon knew he had to ask to cover the search for spicier answers, for the information his boss at the time had demanded.
Love life.
Scandals.
Anything that could rake in cash and possibly put the athlete in hot water.
Namjoon felt his palms get clammy around the clipboard as he took the dive and asked, like this was real, like this was his mission once more, like his career depended on it.
“ Would you be able to address the dating rumours?”
It was a trick question, worded in a way to make Jungkook think there was evidence of him being caught, to corner the athlete into admitting to something, or to force him into defence, either being able to make a headline for sure.
Namjoon thanked god this was just roleplay, when Jungkook responded.
“ Yeah, I’m dating someone. I’ll admit it.”
It stunned Namjoon just for a moment, no one ever in the history of his career being so upfront about it, reminding himself again that this wasn’t real, that Jungkook was well trained in the same ways Namjoon was, to be careful in interview situations.
Namjoon couldn’t hide the waver in his voice though, when Jungkook’s foot was against his own, toes sliding over the shiny heels, trailing up his black silk shins.
“ You a-are?”
“ Mm,” Jungkook's arms were still folded, still looking as smug as ever, raising a brow slightly from beneath his fringe. “I am.”
Jungkook’s bare foot trailed higher and higher, slowly to tease his hyung, nudging at Namjoon’s knee to spread apart his legs, Namjoon white knuckling the clipboard from the touch. He tried to keep his focus, tried his best to remain proper, but he knew he was almost panting by the time Jungkook’s toes were pressing into the softness of his inner thigh, right where the stockings met skin.
Jungkook looked pleased.
Namjoon continued.
“ W-what sort of person are they? The world would l-love to know who stole the heart of Korea’s National Treasure.”
Jungkook paused as if deep in thought, humming as he pondered, fingers tapping against his chin. His foot was still there on Namjoon’s thigh though, nudging the hem of his tight, strained skirt, forcing it to creep upwards dangerously, only Namjoon’s stiff cock preventing it from bunching up around his waist.
“ What would your boss rather hear?” Came Jungkook’s reply, tone lilted with a giggle, foot sliding up, closer and closer to where Namjoon ached. “The sweet things, like how my lover is generous and kind and perfect?”
The whimper that escaped Namjoon’s throat when his dick was crushed beneath the sole of Jungkook’s foot was loud and pathetic, and Jungkook grinned wickedly, bunny teeth on display.
“ Or, would you rather hear the spicy things, like how pretty my lover looks on his knees, with his mouth spread wide and wet around my cock? Would you rather that?”
Namjoon was actually panting now, didn’t realise he was shifting his hips and rolling himself into Jungkook’s touch, still clenching that clipboard tight, the plug in his ass making him mewl beneath his hurried breath.
“ Is that what you want?” Jungkook questioned again, the fucking brat, looking so fucking smug that it made Namjoon want to kiss that stupid smirk from those stupid lips.
But Namjoon was breaking too fast for that.
“ I want,” Namjoon was mumbling, knowing he was bright red, knowing his heaving chest was straining his shirt, Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to where the fabric forced a deep cleavage. “ I want- -”
“ I have to say, this is the worst interview I’ve ever had to do,” Jungkook laughed, mirth in his eyes, pressing against the head of Namjoon’s aching length, precum spilling so fast it was embarrassing. “Did your boss tell you to dress like this, trying to tempt me? That would make a great headline, right? “Jeon Jungkook, Korea’s National Treasure; Caught Fucking a Slut Journalist .””
That made shame flush in all the right places, Namjoon gasping, hips jerking, a dark blush fleeing down his neck to paint his tits a honeyed pink. Jungkook licked his lips.
This was a roleplay.
Namjoon played along.
“ Yes, I’m s-sorry, he told me to wear it--”
“ Of course he fucking did,” Jungkook was loving it, must have rehearsed this over and over in his mind, his doe eyes twinkling like it was Christmas morning and Namjoon was a giant gift waiting to unwrap. “Gotta say, putting you in a shirt like that is low-key genius. You should come around here and give me a closer look.”
Namjoon wondered what would happen if he tested some denial.
“ That’s inappropriate, Mr. Jeon.”
“ Not as inappropriate as your cock in that skirt, Mr. Kim. I saw everything .”
When Jungkook pulled his foot away, Namjoon wanted to cry, so there was relief when Jungkook patted at the desk, daring Namjoon to come and sit on the edge before the athlete, to show Jungkook what he wanted to see.
“ Come on,” Jungkook was such a little shit, memories of the past flooding back, of that smile, of those eyes, everything tainted with arrogance. “Show me how bad you want you want this interview hyung, and I’ll say aaall the things you need.”
Namjoon didn’t want to test denial anymore.
He wanted to be good now.
Jungkook shifted back in his chair to let Namjoon come before him, sitting on the ledge of the desk between Jungkook’s spread legs, the tent in Jungkook’s sweatpants not going unnoticed. It was so much more embarrassing like this too, Namjoon clenching his thighs together to try and hide his dick, pulling his shirt over the bulge, a button over his chest popping open to show off more.
Jungkook finally looked as affected as Namjoon felt, breathing hard, hands twitching like they wanted to touch, not daring to yet though, to Namjoon’s dismay.
“ Show me,” Jungkook demanded, but it bordered on a whine, like he was almost ready to beg for it if Namjoon dared refuse. “Show me how bad you want it.”
There was no way he could keep eye contact with Jungkook, as he leaned back on his hands, knocking his phone aside, letting his thighs fall wide for Jungkook to see it all.
Jungkook growled.
Jungkook fucking growled .
“ Hyung.”
Jungkook had never growled at him like that before, and it made Namjoon feel something he didn’t often feel.
Sultry.
Sexy.
Alluring.
“ I want it,” Namjoon spread his legs wider, skirt rising up, up, Jungkook looking feral for him. “Jungkook, please--”
“ Ah,” Jungkook looked so cute, in that moment. “Fuck.”
Namjoon whimpered into the fierce kiss, Jungkook standing from his chair, aggressive, pressing Namjoon down against the desk with his hands, his mouth.
It was an assault really, all tongue and the exchange of harsh breaths, Jungkook squeezing Namjoon’s tits hard enough to hurt deliciously, Namjoon’s legs hanging uselessly over the wooden edge. Namjoon didn’t object when those greedy hands trailed to grip at the skirt bunched up around his waist, tearing it down long legs quickly, Namjoon gasping into Jungkook’s eager mouth.
“ Hyung, wanna fuck you,” the words were slurred with lust and need, Jungkook’s hair shadowing his pretty eyes, red lips wet with spit. “Wanna fuck you, waited so long --”
“ Then do it,” Namjoon found that playing coy was fun, and easy, with Jungkook so riled up. “Give me what I need.”
Jungkook tearing his shirt apart to bite at his nipples was as unexpected as the hand that wrapped around Namjoon’s cock, stroking him hurriedly, the pretty athlete moaning against Namjoon’s chest, but Namjoon welcomed it with a “ Jungkookie, yes, ”, Jungkook letting out another growl, dropping his grip lower, pressing against the base of the plug as Namjoon writhed.
“ You’re so hot,” Jungkook was in a rush to get his dick wet, working the plug out of Namjoon’s hole, pushing down his sweatpants in the same breath. His dick was gorgeous like always, Namjoon drooling at the sight of it, trimmed hair at the base, pink and thick, on the smaller side of the scale. “Hyung, you look so good.”
Muscles bulged in Jungkook’s arms, dragging Namjoon closer, hoisting a heavy stocking-clad thigh over his shoulder, aligning his cock with a desperate groan, rubbing the dark head through the slick lube left behind by the plug.
“ Fuck, hyung, fuck, you look so good--”
Jungkook filled him well.
Namjoon gripped the table edge as Jungkook pushed balls deep, his tits squeezing together, trapping his tie and lanyard, gasping and gasping, suddenly full once more. He didn’t even have a chance to catch his breath either, or a chance to utter out any praise, Jungkook jack-hammering into him fast and urgent, like he was trying to race his orgasm to the finish line.
There were mewls and whimpers and whines working their way up and out Namjoon’s throat, watching on with wide eyes and parted lips as Jungkook fucked him frantically, the younger boy wrapping those strong arms around his thigh, nuzzling that sloped nose into the silk with reverence.
“ Hyung,” Jungkook was whining, whining the way he did when he was taking cock instead, biting down on his cherry lips, skin flushed with exertion. “Hyung--”
Jungkook was going to cum soon, Namjoon could see it in every muscle, every limb, could feel Jungkook’s cock twitch inside of him, the quiver in his thighs the most tell-tale sign. Namjoon was close too, reaching down to touch himself, just a little, barely rubbing his palm down his aching shaft.
“ Not in,” Namjoon asked, knowing Jungkook loved to be stuffed with cum, but also knowing what a mess it was, not wanting to deal with that, not tonight when there was so much catching up to do when this scene was done. “ On me , cum on me Jungkookie--”
“ Fuck--”
A few more sloppy thrusts and then Jungkook was pulling out, coming with a dopey-yet-smug smile, Namjoon following suit with a muffled moan. He watched as his own cum splashed down the curve of his bunched stomach to make mess against the wooden desk, Jungkook coming all over Namjoon’s spent cock, obviously pent up, drenching everything in a sticky wetness.
Namjoon swore he’d never seen so much cum in his life.
“ Holy shit,” Jungkook was breathing like he’d run the track, chest heaving, still gripping Namjoon’s thigh over his shoulder, arching away from where the point of the heels poked into his back. “That was amazing. Hyung, that was amazing. ”
Namjoon flopped down against the table, exhausted, not caring that the lanyard was stuck to his sweat-drenched chest.
“ Need a towel,” Namjoon whined, letting his eyes close, sticky and tired, covered in their mess. “Clean me uuuup .”
“ But I wanna look at you some more, look so sexy in stockings Namjoonie hyung.”
“ I’m a mess.”
“ A sexy mess.”
“ Towel!”
“ Okay, okay--”
A hot shower and some room service later, and Jungkook was finally in Namjoon’s arms, snuggled beneath the sheets, both drained, ready for sleep.
“ I got so much to tell you though,” Jungkook pouted, eyelids too heavy to open now. “And I…. wanna… hear what you got up too...”
“ Tomorrow,” Namjoon yawned into Jungkook’s hair, smelling lemon shampoo, pulling his lover as close as possible. “We can talk lots tomorrow… sleep first, talk tomorrow...”
“ Thanks for today,” Jungkook whispered, wriggling in his hold cutely. “You made my dream come true.”
Namjoon had finally gotten that interview, the one he’d always dreamed of, the one he used to ache for, even if it turned out differently than Past Namjoon would have expected.
“ You made my dream come true too.”
Jungkook yawned.
“ Love you hyung.”
Namjoon yawned.
“ Love you too.”