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In the four months they’ve been classmates and friends, Jungkook had never seen Jimin wear glasses. He didn’t even know he wore contacts.
He was used to cuddly; to the Jimin who showed up to class in the mornings, sleepy and soft with a fluffy fringe of pale orange hair and over-sized sweaters; the Jimin bundled in giant scarves that covered his lips and nose.
But today, here Jungkook and Jimin were, sitting at Jimin’s dining table, studying for their final for their unnecessarily difficult anatomy and physiology class. Jimin suddenly looking sophisticated and scholarly on top of being fist-clenchingly cuddly.
Glasses–one tiny little thing that changed about his appearance, and Jungkook’s heart beat like a jackhammer.
They’re just glasses, he told himself, as his eyes traced over his jawline, now appearing more chiseled because of the black, square frames. The change is an illusion. He’s still a gullible fluffball.
And still attractive.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” Jimin asked curiously, turning from his laptop screen to look at Jungkook sitting adjacent to him. He cracked a smile and batted his eyelashes, which Jungkook couldn’t see that well at first, because of those glasses. “What, do I look that cute today?”
Always. “You just–” Glasses make you look hot as fuck. “You look like a nerd.”
“Says the kid with the Iron Man case,” Jimin scoffed, pointing at Jungkook’s phone on the table.
“Cool people like Iron Man, nerd.” He reached over and poked the bridge of Jimin’s glasses, pushing them back until the lenses hit Jimin’s eyes.
His hyung let out a small, indignant cry and turned away to readjust.
He liked teasing Jimin. He reacted dramatically; laughing sometimes, whining sometimes. Jungkook called him his little poke machine because even just a poke against his arm or cheek warranted something.
Of course, he only said this in his head. Never out loud. Especially if he didn’t do this with anyone else. Jimin was the only one who saw his playful side.
“Jungkook-ah, stop,” Jimin whined after Jungkook tugged at one of the frames’ arms.
“But it’s so much easier now,” Jungkook remarked.
“Easier to what?” Jimin asked, slapping his hand away when he reached for him again.
“Distract you, of course.”
“You do know we have an A&P final in like three days, right?”
“You’ve been studying nonstop, hyung. Take a break.”
Jimin scowled. “I can’t afford to take one, Jungkook. This semester’s been killing me.”
Okay, but those glasses…
“How come I’ve never seen you wear them?” Jungkook asked, poking his pen lightly at a lens. “Are you afraid I’m gonna call you ugly?”
“I swear to god, Jungkook,” Jimin snapped, though his cheeks tinged a little red.
“You’re not, you know.” He said this nonchalantly, but he was the one to feel warmth on his cheeks this time. “You’re not ugly.”
Why was it hard complimenting this guy? How awkward.
To compensate for his random instance of softness, Jungkook used his pen to tug the bridge of Jimin’s glasses down his nose.
It took a delayed few seconds for his hyung to react. He shot a hand forward to slap his hand away, but as he did, his glasses jumped and then dipped even further, until the bottom edges of his frames pressed into his top lip.
Out of nowhere, Jungkook found himself focused solely on how it indented the pink softness, and every single one of his thought processes concerning Jimin changed. He thought of crushing Jimin into the wall, the impact knocking his glasses askew; his mouth open in a gasp, pink, plump, and kissable; forming Jungkook’s name in a begging wisp.
“You look weird,” Jungkook laughed huskily, his pulse loud in his ears and the heat of arousal suffocating him. He gripped Jimin by the chin with one hand, keeping his lips parted. God, they were supple; pink and shiny with lip balm. They should be kissed. Theyhave to be kissed.
Jimin pushed his frames back up with a shaky hand. “You just said–”
He stopped when Jungkook swung his thumb over Jimin’s chin and to his lips, rubbing across the silky smoothness that was even softer than he imagined. He did it gently at first, watching Jimin’s frozen but fascinated expression.
Embarrassed heat on his hyung’s face radiated off him, fogging his glasses.
I caused that, Jungkook thought smugly.
The thought lingering, he traced his thumb over Jimin’s top lip, pressing harder, blood rushing to his groin at the way he distorted his lip.
A stuttered mewl stumbled out of Jimin’s mouth, perhaps accidentally. Warm breath hit Jungkook’s wandering digit and oh fuck, it was glorious seeing him, blinded by the steam on the lenses, the tip of his tongue jutting forward, his pink-as-fuck lips now seeking Jungkook’s thumb and closing over it.
Holy shit, was Jungkook’s first thought, motionless as Jimin swept his tongue over his thumb.
His second thought was of the prickles of desire burning into every nerve in his body, relinquishing Jungkook’s control over himself.
Jungkook shot out of his chair and towards him. He swiftly slid his thumb out of Jimin’s mouth to pull him up from his chair, grabbing either side of his face with both hands. His nose mashed the frames messily against Jimin’s nose as he sucked on his hyung’s thick upper lip, breaths ragged and heavy against his face, fogging the lenses even more.
Jimin gasped with surprise. He curled his hands into the front of his t-shirt, twisting the hem in his fingers as he returned the kiss with urgency.
Jungkook wet thumb glided over the apple of Jimin’s cheek and nudged the glasses crookedly. He felt them dig into his skin as he pressed harder into the kiss, wanting to swallow his passion into him.
Jimin tried to reach one hand up, probably to remove the glasses, but Jungkook quickly grabbed him by the wrist.
“Keep them on,” Jungkook panted into his mouth. “Please.”
“Kinky fuck,” Jimin responded breathlessly. He shrugged his wrist out of Jungkook’s grasp and let it roam downward until it palmed Jungkook’s cock through his jeans.
Jungkook threw his head back for a moment to groan, before his lips shakily met Jimin’s again, sloppy and needy, hips desperate as he ground against his hand.
Jimin’s wet, swollen lips slid away, angling into his neck to suck lovingly on a patch of skin there.
“Hyung, please,” Jungkook hissed, his hard-on straining painfully against the restriction of his jeans. “Please, please, please–”
“I know, cutie, I know,” Jimin whispered against his skin, and Jungkook couldn’t help whimpering at the term of endearment and the hard angles of his glasses grazing him with each kiss.
Jungkook finally felt the unclasp of the jean button and sighed into Jimin’s fluffy, sweet-smelling hair.
Jimin left his neck and sank to his knees, concentrating on his stomach and unzipping Jungkook’s jeans.
Jungkook felt Jimin nose into his shirt hem, his moist, swollen lips reaching under to knead down his happy trail and shuffle the fabric over his hips
Jungkook jerked into the touch and bit down a moan. He slid his hands into Jimin’s hair, combing gently, encouragingly, in silent awe of the gorgeous boy pulling down his boxers and finally, finally closing his lips over his rock hard, leaking cock.
Jungkook shuddered, grasping Jimin’s hair in fistfuls, inching more of his length into his mouth; thrusting faster.
Jimin was so beautiful like this, the glasses perfectly imperfect–crooked and falling crookedly from the sweat building on his nose, steamed from the heat of his ministrations.
“Look at me, hyung,” Jungkook requested through labored breaths, sweeping hair outt of Jimin’s eyes and carding it back. “Please.”
Jimin promptly peered up over the lenses, his dark eyes catching starry glints from the light above. They sparkled with questions; does it feel good? Do you want more, Jungkookie? More, more, more?
More, Jungkook answered silently, staring back, Jimin’s eyes hooded and deep with lust.Oh, fuck, more.
He felt his cock twitch, and with a long, gravelly moan, he came. His load was heavy and vigorous, enough for some of it to splatter on his glasses.
Jimin was stunned for a few seconds as Jungkook came down from his high and slipped out of his mouth, blinking in disbelief through the cleaner lens, his chest heaving.
“Did you just–”
“Sorry,” Jungkook replied with a breathy laugh. He tucked the hem of his shirt under his thumb and tried to wipe it off, but everything just smeared instead. Now it coated his dark frames and the tip of his nose in translucent white, like war paint.
Even though he found it kind of arousing, he still had to bite down laughter at how aghast Jimin looked.
“Jungkook, what the fuck?” Jimin tried to take off his glasses, but Jungkook just chuckled and haphazardly pushed them back as he had done earlier.
“Worry about it later, hyung,” he replied. He held Jimin’s gaze for a moment, convinced that Jimin would actually rather have some more fun with him than study; that there was something hot churning in their bellies, boiling the chemicals between them and wanted to do something about it right fucking now.
But Jimin forced his eyes away, sucking in a breath as he stood up.
“S-Seriously, we don’t have time for this,” he stammered, turning his body away. But honestly, there was no way Jimin could hide that erection from Jungkook. “The final’s over every fucking unit we covered.”
Every unit, huh?
Jimin made to walk off to the bathroom, but Jungkook was taller and quicker. He stepped into his path and cupped his face, eyes falling on his battered, but unbroken glasses, his parted, fucked-out mouth. He sort of wanted to stick his dick in it again.
But first, a compromise.
“Okay,” Jungkook said. He smiled mischievously. “I think we can cover at least one unit right now.”
Jimin swallowed, biting down a whimper as Jungkook’s hips pressed against the tent in his pants. He tried to stay still, but Jungkook felt him roll just a tad against him, melting little by little.
“What are you talking about?” Jimin asked, his voice a breathy whine when Jungkook’s hand tucked between them to stroke his bulge.
“What causes this, hyung?” Jungkook murmured, his grin widening when Jimin groaned. “Hm?”
He expected a legitimate answer. Jimin studied for this class a lot, and probably had corpus cavernosum and whatever-the-fuck else ready on his tongue.
But instead, Jimin gave in, his glasses slamming magnificently against Jungkook’s face as he crushed their lips together.