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So Namjoon might have miscalculated.
No, no. He shouldn’t think that way. It’s fine, totally fine. They’re just having fun, just like they talked about.
He runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair, caresses his cheek with a hint of desperation. He won’t even let the thoughts formulate in his own mind, but he knows why he’s doing it.
To remind his boyfriend of their tender, loving connection. To remind him that this thing they have is special, and for keeps. That Namjoon is his person.
And also to remind him of the bulge of his cock in Jimin’s mouth.
Because at the moment, down on his knees, Jimin seems to have forgotten about all of those things, too preoccupied with the other dick, the one relentlessly pounding his ass doggy style.
Every time the guy thrusts into him, Jimin’s eyes all but roll to the back of his head. A thin rivulet of saliva is dripping down from the corner of his mouth, but it’s not from giving Namjoon the sloppy, enthusiastic blow job Namjoon wants. It’s because his mouth is too slack to keep the spit in.
This is normal, though. There’s no reason for Namjoon to be feeling insecure or, even worse jealous. Jimin is experiencing something that is exciting in its novelty. That doesn’t mean he’s not into Namjoon anymore.
Namjoon prods his dick forward a little, trying to jumpstart his boyfriend into sucking it. Sort of like a horny factory reset. Just to remind him Namjoon is here. The tip of his cock slides forward over the wetness of Jimin’s tongue, but his lips are too loose and there’s hardly any friction. It’s like pushing into a cock sleeve that’s two sizes too big for him.
Which, if he’s being honest with himself, is what Jimin’s ass is going to feel like when Namjoon gets to fuck him after this guy is finished. Just Namjoon’s fucking luck that he’s hung like a horse.
He leans forward a little to look, almost involuntarily, and simultaneously wishes that he could both unsee it and that he could see better. The root of the guy’s dick is glistening with lube. He had to use almost a handful just to work Jimin open enough to push in. Even now, when they’ve already been at this for a while, it still looks like he’s going to split Jimin in half. The way Jimin’s hole stretches to accommodate him looks almost painful, and Jimin sounds like he’s in pain, with short huffed out breaths and high whines, so the logical conclusion would be that he is in pain, were it not for the way he’s backing up onto the cock, riding it like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.
This whole encounter feels like a colossal misjudgment.
The man, Taehyung, Namjoon thinks he said his name was, is as handsome as a model, but he’s skinny and almost delicately pretty. He doesn’t look like someone who’s got a dick the size of a grown man’s forearm. Or like someone who knows how to use it.
Jimin and Namjoon have been talking about a threesome for a while but not seriously. It started out as dirty talk during sex, just Namjoon being his usual, stupid, horny self, blurting out all of his fantasies when he’s hard and putting it in, something to do to work himself up just as much as Jimin. He never meant it seriously when he talked of Jimin’s hungry hole needing more to swallow up, or when he said that Jimin needed someone to stuff another cock in his mouth to shut him up while he’s taking Namjoon up the ass.
This vacation has been so good – sun and the beach, and sex at every opportunity as if they were teenagers. Licking salt off each other’s skin, groping in elevators. There’s been a special feel of freedom from the constraints of life, like stepping out of the stream of routine. They were tipsy tonight, at a packed touristy bar, and Namjoon felt carefree and young like he hadn’t in years. Jimin was sipping some sugary, gaudy-colored cocktail and then dancing like everyone was watching. Everyone was watching and he fed into that attention, with his sultry smirks and body that moved like he was fucking the music.
Namjoon was in love and in lust and through the horny haze in his mind it looked hot when this gorgeous stranger came up to his boyfriend with a pick up line, hands a little too free from the start. It looked hot when they danced together, and when the man groped Jimin all over, and even when Jimin pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and started making out with him, right there on the dance floor, in front of Namjoon and everyone else.
The first pang of panic twisted in Namjoon’s gut when Jimin asked him to take Taehyung back to their room, saying it was a chance to try what Namjoon had wanted to try for so long. But Taehyung was right there, wrapped around Jimin from behind, one long-fingered hand roaming under Jimin’s shirt, and Namjoon felt like he would come off as a coward and a party pooper if he said he’d changed his mind, that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at Jimin the same way after. He told himself he was just being close-minded and insecure.
He should have spoken up, he thinks now, as Taehyung wraps his hand around Jimin’s waist and pulls him up and off Namjoon’s cock. The air feels cold on his wet skin as he watches his boyfriend sit in Taehyung’s lap and bounce on his dick like he can’t get enough, back pressed to Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung hooks his arms under Jimin’s knees and practically folds him in half making him slide all the way down on his cock. Jimin looks so small tucked into him like this, his hole stretched wide as he takes it all, chanting, “Gonna come, gonna come.”
Namjoon touches himself, rubs frantically as he watches Jimin’s dick bounce up and down with every forceful thrust, droplets of white falling haphazardly over his belly and balls as Taehyung fucks his orgasm out of him. With his last shred of lucidity before his own orgasm pulls him under as he jerks off pathetically to some other guy fucking his boyfriend better than he ever could, he thinks that maybe the problem isn’t how he will look at Jimin after this. Maybe the problem is how Jimin will look at him.