10-relief
The birds weren't chirping when he woke up. It wasn't a hum in the air or a smell of something cooking that did. It was the light, seeping in through his eyes. Someone had opened the curtain and the blinding light had hurt his eyes. Yoongi shifted from his sleep, closing his eyes with his wrist before deciding to turn around, lying flat on his stomach upon the couch.
"Wake up, hyung."
He didn't want to. He hadn't had such a good night sleep in long. He missed the day when he could wake up at twelve in the afternoon, skipping breakfast and got straight into lunch.
"It's three in the afternoon hyung, come on wake up."
Yoongi groaned. His body was wasted. For once he was tired enough to sleep and it wasn't the alcohol that he got to thank for. Alcohol did give him a good night sleep but it robbed him of comfort soon after, replacing it with terrible headaches and a churning stomach. That was certainly cheating or so his dictionary had said. Last night felt sublime. Whatever he did, he got to sleep oh-so-soundly right now without any nightmares. All his worries were thrown out of the window.
He didn't really sleep last night, did he? Like, he spent the night with eyes wide opened. He fell asleep more like at the break of dawn, to be exact. And what did he do? Of course there was Jimin around at that time and-,
"You're really a pain in the ass, hyung. At least you got to say hi to me before I go back."
Jimin.
No, it wasn't Jimin's voice. It was Namjoon.
Why was Namjoon here?
"Namjoon-hyung's going out, please wake up," he heard Jimin's voice, giggling.
That was Jimin. The boy was there alongside with Namjoon.
And last night-, no, this morning. He was there. And they just-,
Yoongi jerked up faster that he could hope, even the fastest he swore he'd ever moved. The first thing he saw was Jimin's face, looking straight into his with face bright and cheerful, kneeling beside the couch.
"Yup, he's up, hyung," Jimin said, standing up.
Yoongi rubbed his head. He wasn't alone. His eyes followed Jimin's footsteps into the kitchen and there sat Namjoon. Yoongi curved his eyebrow, certainly questioning how and why was his best friend spending his time sitting in his kitchen. He certainly didn't remember opening the door for him. As matter of fact, the last thing he remembered was Jimin's fingers on his left wrist as he finally fell asleep once again on top of the couch with the younger next to him.
A blush crept upon his face and it didn't take long for his face to turn red and hot. The first thing he did was making sure that he was wearing a shirt and thank god he did. The question of how was pushed to the back of his mind as Namjoon called him out. Another blessing was to find himself fully clothed and clean, no sense nor smell of sex coming whatsoever for him.
Sex.
The thrusts, the moans, the hands encircling his wrist, the physical contact, the-,
"Namjoon-hyung's going back," Jimin said from the kitchen.
Jimin.
Park fucking Jimin.
"Wait, why are you in my apartment anyway?" he said, glaring towards Namjoon.
The other man was sitting at his kitchen table before standing up, walking towards him.
"I came in earlier to check on you. Jimin opened the door for me," he said nonchalantly, pointing towards the beaming Jimin who was leaning on the sink, grinning.
"You two know each other right now?"
"Kind of," Namjoon shrugged.
This was bound to happen, he knew it. At one point of life his friends would take notice of Jimin's existence, very much like Taehyung. At least he was acquainted with Namjoon right now and not Hoseok. He would try his best to let that man be the very end of list of 'people that Jimin was going to eventually meet'. Whereas Seokjin, at least he got to make up a better story than 'crashing on the boy' the moment he got to unwillingly introduce Jimin to the eldest hyung.
Yoongi got up from the couch slowly, looking passed his head the slightest, hoping that there was no trace of anything suspicious for Namjoon's eyes to see. That friend was indeed stupid, but he was a genius behind that skull and it would only take him a glance to put two and two together.
"I got to go, hyung. Donghyuk's keep pestering me. College is busy and we're all miss seeing your face there. Even Ikje said so," Namjoon said as the young man motioned towards the door. His friends wouldn't be missing him. Most of the time he just sulked around, an obvious hint of disinterest splayed across his face. Why would someone ever miss seeing that?
He followed the younger, taking him towards the door and out into the hallway. Jimin stayed inside and he was at least thankful for that. As a good host, that was the least he could do. Namjoon pressed the elevator's button and turned around again, facing Yoongi. Only yesterday were they having conversation here, something that didn't end as good as he hoped it to be. It wasn't like he had forgotten about it. It was still there, at the back of his mind, clawing at his conscience. The younger had seemingly realized the uneasiness for he sighed and called out his name again.
"I'm sorry about yesterday, okay hyung?" he said.
Yoongi held his breath. He rather not talked about it, pretending that the conversation never happened, burying it deep down in his brain, forgetting it even, if he could. Right now, oddly, that came eerily too easy.
"Just forget about everything I've said."
-which is exactly what Yoongi was going to do. He couldn't be more grateful for that.
"The point is I trust you, okay hyung? I'll always be your friend and whatever you do I'll support you," Namjoon said, ending the sentence with his dimpled smile.
He scoffed.
"That's so cheesy," Yoongi commented.
The other man just laughed, observing him with this odd look as if he could see pass through him.
"You're better, hyung," he said.
Yoongi simply raised his eyebrow.
"No, I mean it. You seem better. Jimin makes you better."
He felt like choking. Did Namjoon see it? Did Namjoon realize what had happened?
"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi asked, voice cautious.
"Dunno. Just seem like it."
"What did Jimin tell you?" He could only hope that Jimin wasn't as stupid as Yoongi thought he would be, because if the boy had ever mentioned anything or blurted out about whatever had happened that morning to any other living soul, Yoongi legit believed that he was not going to just kill the boy, but obliterate his entire existence from this planet.
"Nothing, actually. Just how you two met, about Taehyung a bit and it's certainly not important. Mostly we just talk about you."
That intrigued him, a lot.
"Me? What could you two possibly be-,"
His words were cut off by the 'ding' of the elevator and Namjoon just gave him a cheeky grin. The other quickly turned around and entered the elevator, leaving Yoongi with his own words and questions.
"Jimin's good for you, hyung. He's a good friend," Namjoon said before the elevator closed and the other disappeared from sight, giving him a smile (which Yoongi legit believed look mischievous as hell).
He certainly didn't know what Namjoon meant by that. As the elevator closed and the younger disappeared from sight, Yoongi could only sigh before walking back inside and slamming the apartment's door shut. His stomach was grumbling and truth be told he had forgotten when was the last time he ate something. Ramen would do just fine, and by this time he could even make it with his eyes closed.
He worked in silence, taking out the cup of instant ramen from the cabinet and turned the switch to turn the dispenser on. All that he got to do was waited for the water to boil. He was standing right in front of the sink, facing the wall. That was when Jimin came from behind, propping his chin on his shoulder, right at the crook of his neck.
"I want chinese takeouts, hyung," he whined.
"No, you want ramen. And ramen's good for you."
Jimin giggled. Yoongi hated physical contact but somehow Park Jimin had easily made him a hypocrite. The younger had slipped his fingers, latching on his left wrist again, caressing the scars softly. Yoongi instead pried it off, taking it towards eye-level, trying to inspect the wound. The boy was holding him so tightly on the wrist this morning he wouldn't be surprised to see it bleed a bit now when he poked on the open wound. It did stink, though.
The younger though moved his arms again, trying to grab on Yoongi's left wrist again with little annoying noise coming out from his lips. In that position, Jimin was practically hugging him from behind. The elder clicked his tongue, annoyed with the action, before turning around and pushed Jimin away, opting to sit on the kitchen table instead.
"It won't heal if you keep on prodding with it," he said coldly, taking his wrist towards eye-level, inspecting the bleeding cut.
The younger took the seat right in front of him, folding his hand on the table and tried to make a cute, disgusting pout.
"Anyway, what did you say to Namjoon?"
Jimin turned his eyes towards the ceiling, making that gesture of remembering something, finger tapping against his chin.
"Not much. We just talk about you."
"About me like what?"
"Like Namjoon-hyung told me about how you really like rapping and composing. I wanna hear your music sometimes, hyung. I bet they're good."
He rolled his eyes again, seeing the Park Jimin that was practically bouncing on the seat, looking at him with face bright and glowing. Why did the boy even look extra cheerful today? It annoyed him even more.
"And?"
"And what?"
"What else did you tell him?"
The younger curved his eyebrows, trying to comprehend the question before his expression turned into that of mischief instead.
"Don't worry, I won't tell Namjoon-hyung how you moaned my name oh-so-beautifully, hyung."
If Yoongi could do it, he would re-crash his car on Jimin again right now.
"You!" he said, lifting out a finger, pointing towards Jimin to make his point clear. "If you ever by any mean talk about it again-," The younger didn't even look threatened. He was sporting a cheeky grin and all that Yoongi ever thought about was how to re-crash his car on Jimin again right at that exact moment. "-I'll crash my car again on you."
"And what? Kill me?"
Other day the word would send him into a trance, the haunting feeling of paranoia and fear came rushing back. But today it irritated him instead, sending a scowl to his face.
That much had told him how he himself felt better.
He started to believe that he was, anyway.
.
He spent the remainder of the day inside of his apartment again. Jimin ended making another cup of ramen for himself. Night passed and the younger fumbled with his laptop again on the couch until he was bored. Yoongi was sitting next to him all the time, looking back at the cracked television screen like he always did. There was something different, though. There was something different from just sitting there like he'd always done. This time there was something that told him to get up, picked the broken telephone at the end of the room and threw it in the dumpster. It was the same something that told him to grab his wallet and walked towards the car that was parked in the basement to replace it with a new one.
Something changed, because sitting in front of the television on his couch like always didn't feel the same like it used to.
He was broken yesterday. He was afraid and terrified. He couldn't feel anything, his heart hollow and everything foreign to his touch. Yet now everything seemed different. The world was still the same. It didn't come out in an explosion of color, but something had eerily changed. All the voices that he heard, the words that Namjoon uttered, the nightmares that haunted him, they all seemed like a distant memory already.
"What are you thinking right now, hyung?" Jimin asked, closing the laptop before turning his body around. He was having his legs on Yoongi's thigh. He turned his position, heads replacing his legs, using his thigh as a pillow. He personally found that question weird. Why did Jimin need to ask when the boy could clearly and simply read his mind instead? Not like he really could, but Yoongi had already believed that the boy possessed some sort of supernatural power or a free unlimited access to his mind.
"I don't know," he answered absent-mindedly.
Jimin just simply hummed. He raised his hand before doing what he always loved the most. Jimin reached for his left wrist, caressing the scar on his wrist slowly.
"Why did you always do that?" Yoongi asked.
The boy wasn't looking at him. He was looking at Yoongi's wrist instead, taking in and each moment to marvel on the white stripes that decorated the pale skin as if it was a work of art. It wasn't. It was a mistake, stupidity and proved how much of a miserable train wreck he was.
"Because I think they're beautiful," Jimin said, whispering again.
See? The boy was completely reading his mind right now.
"They're ugly. They proved how much of a weakling I am," he said.
He wasn't one to judge other people. If he saw someone with a cut on their hands, Yoongi wouldn't say much. People had problems, as much as Jimin had his own. He didn't see people with scars as weak. It was his own that he felt so, remembering the look on his parents' eyes as they called him pathetic. He promised to himself how he wouldn't let other people see. He would be fine on his own and he lived just like that for years, being fine and perfectly okay.
"You don't have to be fine all the time, hyung," Jimin said, eyes still on his wrist. The boy brought the wrist upon his lips again, planting a soft kiss upon them. "Sometimes it's okay to be not okay."
"You're not making any sense."
Jimin laughed upon his wrist and it sent shudders across his skin. He quickly pried his hand free.
"What makes you think you even got the right to do that, huh?" Yoongi said.
"Doing what?" the younger asked, looking right at him this time. "Kissing your wrist?"
The elder rolled his eyes, trying his best to look annoyed when all that Jimin did actually sooth him. Jimin let out a laugh instead, his eyes disappeared underneath it. He couldn't help but to realize how cute it looked.
"I thought that people will get to be more intimate after sex," he nonchalantly answered. That was Yoongi's cue to blush, hissing to the word and practically felt embarrassed about himself altogether he hope he could turn invisible and undo what he just said. He thought that he was pretty upfront for a person but he certainly hadn't made an acquaintance with a Park Jimin then.
The younger found it to be amusing for he giggled and continued on embarrassing Yoongi even more. "What? You're shy, aren't you hyung?"
Shy? He wasn't a teenage girl with heart beating fast, biting his own lips as a certain handsome senior walked passed the hallway. He was Min fucking Yoongi for christ sake.
"I'm not, okay? So cut it out!"
"What? You don't wanna talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
"About how we made love this morning," Jimin said, teasing him, enunciating the word love disgustingly before puckering his own lips, kissing the blank air. For the record, nobody had ever said 'making love' to replace the term 'sex', and certainly not two people who did it out of the shrill of the situation (or at least that was what he'd been telling himself about whatever they'd done this morning). Yoongi had certainly had enough of it for he quickly got up from his seat, thus making the boy fell from the couch on the floor head first.
"Owh hyung, you're mean!" he said, rubbing his head. "Didn't I take good care of you this morning? I certainly went faster when you told me to. What? You're asking for a blowjob too now so you'll be satisfied?"
He really thought that he should crash his car on Jimin again. Not once, but twice. Thrice even if he could manage it.
"First, yes I'm mean. It's in my blood. Second, I certainly did not say anything about faster."
And truth be told he didn't want to remotely think or remember anything about the sex again if he could. He rather had it in the back of his own mind, forgotten. No such thing had ever happened to him. There was definitely no cock up his ass, no name that escaped his lips. He did not just have sex with a boy, even if it was the best he'd ever felt for the past 22 years of his life.
"So shut it."
Jimin grinned, sitting on the floor, legs crossed.
"But you still want the blowjob, huh?"
The boy could certainly read his mind even when he couldn't.
.
Something changed.
Something did change, because he fell asleep and he didn't realize it. Something did change because Yoongi was behind the steering wheel again. His headache was agonizing and he was going definitely too fast for the road. He couldn't blame himself, though, for he remembered wanting to go home as fast as he could. The smell of alcohol reeked the air and every headlight did nothing but make his eyes squint and his vision blurry. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating loud. Just a little more. Just a little more and he would be home. He knew the street too well and he sure knew that there was this once intersection up front, the one he had to pass every time he had to reach his own apartment with a red light that went too long. From the distance he could see that the light was green. It would be red by the time he managed to reach it so he practically did whatever a person would do on such an empty road at 3 in the morning. He stomped on the gas even harder and swerved forward, faster than ever.
That was when his headache hit him again, much like a person swinging a hammer to his head. Yoongi groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds, peeling one hand off the steering wheel to massage his forehead. It was something that he did for only a split second, yet the moment he opened his eyes, he could see someone standing right in front of his car, the lights hitting the figure. It didn't take long for him to even register who could it be, only to realize that there was indeed someone standing in front of his car with eyes wide opened, seemingly as surprised as he was. By then it was too late to hit on the brake, and oddly he didn't even try to. The car just kept on running and the figure was thrown from the road towards the window of his own car before rolling up towards the roof and disappeared from sight. His car was going so fast he even hardly felt the impact.
He couldn't process what had happened, his mind simply went blank. He just hit someone, didn't he? And that was when he decided to hit on the brake, the car finally came to a halt. His heart was pounding and his mind had finally started to process the whole situation. Before he knew it Yoongi had scrambled off from his car, stepping his foot outside. He didn't care about having his car stopped in the middle of the road. He just turned around, eyeing the figure lying on the cold asphalt road a few feet behind, motionless.
Something sank inside of him. His stomach clenched and his heart pounding like mad. Half of his mind telling him to get back in his car and drive away. The other half telling him to take a step forward, witnessing what he just done. His feet agreed on the latter, taking stuttering steps towards the body. Every second as he got closer, he kept on hoping for whoever it was to move, to flail their hands around, to curse him even, making sound that he would be grateful for even if it was only a whine. Sadly the only thing that he could hear was his panting breaths. Yes, there was nobody there that breath but himself.
He inched his way closer and he could slowly see the figure, becoming more and more visible to his eyes. From a glance he could see that it was a boy. His head was turned around so Yoongi couldn't see the face. The right leg was twisted at a weird angle and he tried to take his eyes away from it as he saw a hint of blood and something white and protruding, ripping the jeans from underneath. He felt like he was about to vomit.
"H-hey, a-are you okay?"
His voice shook and so did his fingers. No, the boy was still alive. He should call an ambulance. Maybe took the boy to his car and drive to the nearest hospital.
"H-hey t-talk to m-me."
Yoongi got closer, practically standing in front of the body. He still couldn't see the boy's face. He took another step, circling the body, trying to get a closer look, hoping that he would be met by a face writhing in pain, opening and closing his eyes, giving hint of being alive.
That was until he realized that he knew the face. That chubby cheek. That eyes, the ones that disappeared when the boy smiled. Yet now those eyes were opened wide, staring blankly right at him. The boy's mouth was slightly ajar, hints of blood dripping from the corner.
Yoongi fell to his knees, feeling the hard asphalt road underneath him. This was what he had done. This was his work of art, something that he had made with his own two hands. It was his hand on the steering wheel and his feet on the brake. He just crashed on Park Jimin and the boy was dead now.
"No, no, i didn't-,"
But he did and there was no denying it. Yoongi buried his face in his palm. He just crashed on the boy. The blood on his rear headlight and the roof of his car would only prove it all. There was no denying that he was-,
"-a murderer."
Yoongi froze. Who just said that? There was a voice, whispered at him. A voice nonetheless and he was not imagining it. He slowly pried his hand off, his fingers shaking. He hoped for a voice, didn't he? Hoping that his wouldn't be the only one? His eyes worked its way slowly towards Jimin's figure. His heart went from beating like mad to a complete halt.
The boy was still lying motionless, but he got both eyes opened, staring at him in a different way. The gaze was accusing and every bit of terrifying. He was hoping for a sign of life. An open eye could easily give him that, but there was nothing that felt alive in those eyes. There was no expression, nothing of a Park Jimin that he knew. The edge of the boy's mouth, the one that got blood dripping slowly from it moved, forming words that sound foreign to his ear. Jimin moved his lips yet Yoongi knew that it wasn't sign that he was living. It wasn't proof that the boy was alive since it terrified him more instead of giving him relief.
The voice that came out was hoarse and nothing human. It was stuttered and rasped. It was not Park Jimin. The boy was dead. There was no doubt about it and he better had that instead now. The Park Jimin now didn't give him comfort. It terrified him even more.
"Y-you k-killed m-me," the mouth spoke.
At that point he didn't even realize the tears running down his eyes.
"N-no i-,"
He wanted to say that he didn't mean it. He was simply having a headache or drink too much. He knew he should have hit on the brake but he didn't mean to be a murderer. He never wanted to-,
"Y-you-re a-a m-murd-derer."
.
"Stop it!"
He was screaming. He thrashed around, fisting his own hair, feeling the skull split underneath his touch. He felt his heart beating like mad. His t-shirt was drenched in his own sweat. This feeling wasn't foreign. He had grown to realize what a panic attack felt like, that and the simple explanation that he was simply having a nightmare.
Still, the only thing that his mind could process right now was Jimin's absence. The room was pitch black, night had fallen and the only thing illuminating his apartment was the faint light coming through the curtains. He just fell asleep again, hadn't he? So where was Jimin now? The boy would be all right, wouldn't he? It wasn't like he really crashed on the boy. No, it was simply a dream.
"Jimin?!" he called out.
He fell asleep on the couch again and Jimin was nowhere to be found, just like he remembered it yesterday. The room was already dark and he didn't really care to even give the clock a glance. He quickly got up, trying to find the boy. His legs felt wobbly and he should have known better when he stumbled and fell on the floor at his third step.
The sound of him bumping on the ground was probably the one that got Jimin's attention, for he heard another footstep, coming from his bedroom. Jimin was in his bedroom? What was the boy doing there?
"Hyung! You're okay?" he heard as Jimin came, squatting on the floor right in front of him. The boy had his hands around him before hauling him up, helping him get on the couch yet again.
"What happened?"
Nothing, actually. Just a dream. A really horrible one. Yoongi tried his best to regain his breath and Jimin just sat there next to him, patting his own back slowly. When he finally did, Yoongi turned his head around, trying to get a look at Jimin.
The boy's hair was a bit damp. He just probably took a shower, thus explaining why he was in his bedroom. He was looking at him concerned, brows furrowed, biting his own lips. It was entirely different from the Park Jimin that he saw in that dream, laying on the cold asphalt road. No, this was the real Park Jimin, the boy that sat right in front of him.
"You're here," he whispered, grabbing Jimin's shoulder tight.
"Yeah, I am," the boy said, giving him reassurance.
This was Park Jimin, the boy that gave him comfort with a simple stroke of hand. This was the boy that assured him that he was fine, that he was indeed sane.
"But you weren't-," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his palm. His eyes were wet. Did he really just cry back then? "I wake up and you're not."
"I'm sorry I just-," the boy looked guilty as if he'd committed a serious crime. Jimin took out his hand and moved towards Yoongi, parting his messy bangs so it wouldn't get in his eyes. It was so long since he last had a haircut. They started to bother him now. "You look so scared. What happened, hyung?"
He gulped. He didn't want to talk about it, opting to brush it aside as easy as that. He could easily do that with Namjoon's words and those horrible whispers. He could forget about them. Yet this nightmare wasn't even the same case. Maybe because it was Jimin. Seeing the boy dead terrified him more than the telephone could do to him. Then again, the reason why he could forget about them all was Jimin. He could do it as long as the boy was around. And only when the boy was around could he also get the sleep he was so desperate for.
"You're fine. You're perfectly okay," Jimin said, grabbing his left wrist again.
Yoongi realized that he didn't even need to hear those words being spoken from his lips again. Someone already did it for him and thus he grasped upon the words hopelessly, realizing how he was desperate for such reassurance. He could never understand it, but every problem that he had always ended to this certain boy. Jimin felt like gravity, pulling him close and tight. All this time he felt like he was floating in between both worlds. With the boy around he remembered that could still walk just fine. He was a good thing, just like Namjoon had said.
"I'm here, hyung."
He was there, the realest fucking thing he could ever ask for, a reminder that Min Yoongi was still sane.
That Min Yoongi was fine.
He was perfectly okay.
And that was pretty much Yoongi's cue to dart forward, crashing his lips against the boy's. He would certainly hate himself after this, but all his mind could think off was how easy Jimin could take away his fear and how he was hoping for him to do the same right now. He was the one being needy now, being the one whose tongue quickly darted against the other's lips, coaxing the younger to open his mouth. He was in no doubt going to wake up with regrets resting at the pit of his stomach because he was the one that had his fingers slipping behind Jimin's shirt (his shirt that the boy borrowed, actually) already, clawing at the boy's chiseled abs. He didn't have much time to mesmerize on what the brat hid underneath that shirt, but at least he got all the time he needed now.
"I need you," Yoongi whispered as he broke their kiss and went towards Jimin's neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin there, hoping to get a moan out of the boy. The younger squirmed under his touch but he didn't push him away. He got his hand on his left wrist like always and Yoongi copied his action, reaching for the boy's own wrist, feeling the same identical scar under his fingers as he crashed their lips together again. It was when he darted his fingers up against the boy's hand did he feel something weird, vertical lines and something wet against his touch. He curved his eyebrow, wanting to ask but Jimin's teeth scraping his lips had him forgetting what breathing was, much less thinking.
"I'm here," Jimin repeated his words, seemingly out of breath.
Yoongi took that opportunity to take Jimin's shirt off of him before doing the same thing to his. The younger took the lead then, having his lips on Yoongi's neck before trailing kisses down his torso. He wanted to have the younger moaned louder underneath his touch yet it was him who did as Jimin sucked on his nipple while his hands rolling on the other.
Jimin continued kissing down his torso before the hem of his pants stopped him from doing so.
"I figure you still want the blowjob, hyung?" Jimin said, teasing him as he yanked down Yoongi's pants with one swift thrust and forced the elder to spread his legs wide. The good thing about being locked up behind his room all day was the lack of obligation to put on a decent pant, thus relieving him of such troublesome thing as a zipper.
"Shut up," Yoongi hissed.
He certainly would regret this. Every fiber in his body was screaming for it, reminding him how he should stop right now. This was a bad thing, they said. This was as bad as slitting your hand open. This was running away. A permanent solution wasn't having a cock rammed up against your ass. It was going to therapy and taking medication. It was talking with someone decent, someone with a doctoral degree. This wasn't certainly going to help-,
"Oh fuck, Jimin!"
The fuck with all of that, the hormones said. The fuck with having logical explanation in your head when you got a mouth around your cock. Yoongi buried his hand on Jimin's hair, tugging at them as the boy lowered his head down. The boy was currently kneeling in front of the couch while Yoongi sat on top of it, legs opened wide. He felt the same fire, bubbling at the pit of his stomach. Jimin's mouth was hot and every bit of a sin that it would be.
The boy worked his mouth up and down his length, bobbing his head at a leisure pace, sliding his tongue at the tip with fingers gripping the shaft, pumping at a steady rhythm. It was when he hollowed his cheek did Yoongi bucked his hips without him realizing. The boy let out a small hitch before he slid his mouth free with a faint pop. He went on to kiss the inside of his thigh before moving back up towards his neck, retracing the mark that he had left.
Roses would be blooming against his skin, just like blood had once painted them before.
This was what he needed, his mind kept on telling him that. This was him feeling. This was him being better. Jimin felt like a drug and he couldn't get enough. Something in his mind told him how bad this was. This was no different than sticking a syringe in his arm, being a stupid pathetic junkie that he abhorred. He would definitely regret this, the same voice kept on repeating.
But then again his body said how he definitely wouldn't, especially with Jimin sitting on his lap and grinded against him. The rough texture of the boy's pants against his skin felt uncomfortable, he took it upon himself to yank the boy's pants down to his knees when the same lips were upon his once again. Jimin smirked against his mouth and Yoongi found the urge to tell the brat to shut up once again.
Jimin flung his left arm around Yoongi's neck, trying to gain balance as he guided the elder's fingers towards his mouth, coating his index and middle finger with his hot, wet tongue. Yoongi's stomach clenched, though he knew he rather preferred having Jimin's mouth around his aching cock than his mere fingers. That was until the younger guided his fingers towards his opening, darting on the rim. He thought about asking, about saying anything or being worried but like always the younger had read his mind first, for Jimin whispered a soft, "Don't worry," against his ear as he took Yoongi's finger inside of him.
Jimin's body tensed as Yoongi entered a finger. The boy had his head resting on the crook of Yoongi's neck, his hot breath spending chills down his spine. When he gave Yoongi a small but evident nod, he tried to move his finger, mimicking the younger's action as he had done so yesterday. He moved slowly, afraid to hurt the boy, when Jimin moved his hips instead after. It was a hint enough for Yoongi to move his finger faster and right when he curled it experimentally, the younger arched his body against Yoongi, a small moan escaping his lips.
"More."
The fact that Jimin only needed to speak a syllable got him growling. He pulled his finger out only to add the second, hitting the same spot that got Jimin scratching his nails against his back. Jimin's hand went towards their leaking cocks, pumping them together. The skin upon skin, Jimin's nails splitting his back, the boy's mouth painting his neck and his fingers hot inside of Jimin were too much already. They were both impatient, it seemed, because Jimin had lift his hips up, letting Yoongi slipped his own fingers out of the boy before lining his cock against his entrance.
He didn't need a third finger or Yoongi going to go gentle, because the boy had slammed his hips down against his cock. They both liked pain, it seemed, because Jimin clenched his eyes tight with fingers digging against Yoongi's shoulder. Yet he liked it, like the sensation of Jimin running his finger against his back, treating his body like a canvass and every read and bruise that he planted was nothing but a small part of a bigger painting, something that would look beautiful for eyes to see. It was pretty much the reason why Yoongi moaned shamelessly loud when the boy bit his neck, hands gripping tightly against his left wrist while the other clawing on his back.
Jimin moved his hips up and down, slamming his ass down against Yoongi. He tried to find the same spot again, hitting Jimin prostate hard. He loved the string of moans and whines leaving Jimin's lips as the boy raised his head back, exposing his neck, all the while with hands gripping Yoongi's shoulder tightly he wouldn't be surprised to find it bruised later. The elder attacked his exposed neck this time, returning the favor and this time it was Yoongi's name that escaped the boy's lip.
Jimin was tight and his entire body felt on fire. Both of them rocked their hips relentlessly, trying to gain the relief they desperately need. Jimin was closed, because the boy moved his hand from Yoongi's wrist, only to reach for the elder's hand and guided it towards his leaking cock, asking for the elder to touch him. It was that kind of small gesture that got him losing control, forgetting everything but the hot breath against his own. Jimin was close. He knew it, because the boy moved his hips even faster, lips ghosting against Yoongi's shoulder with hands back on the wrist that certainly would never heal now.
It was a few quick thrust and Yoongi jerking his hips upwards when Jimin finally come all over his hand, teeth burying itself against Yoongi shoulder so hard it had probably bleed. It wouldn't be the only part of him that did, because Jimin had dug his nails into Yoongi wounded wrist as well, he could even feel the blood bursting, streaming down his skin. It was oddly the pain that had Yoongi losing everything, had him seeing everything in white despite the fact that his living room was pitch black by now, that got him coming so hard inside of Jimin, body shaking and trembling as his orgasm washed all over him.
Jimin's body slumped against his, head resting on the crook of his neck. Neither of them moved for a moment, trying to catch their breath, before the younger wrapped his hand around Yoongi's neck, pulling the older to lay their body on the couch.
Yoongi rested his head against the couch, lying sideways, facing Jimin in front of him. He was going to regret this. He thought he was, but funnily enough the guilt didn't come crashing upon him like he thought it would. Instead he had felt the same thing that he did yesterday. Everything became clear. Relaxation washed upon him like a warm wind caressing his cheek or waves crashing against his toes on a beautiful summer day. The breath that he exhaled wasn't a simple necessity or a hollow wind passing through his body. Oxygen weren't just a thing he took for granted. It was something that he couldn't get enough, a reminder of how alive he was. Every breath that he took turned his body into fire. This was probably what feeling alive was. It wasn't just breathing air, because he knew he was breathing Jimin now, burying his nose on the boy's soft hair that smell too much like his shampoo.
The boy raised his head, trying to catch his eyes.
"What?"
It was dark but he didn't need to see the boy smiling at him. His body felt drained. He was tired yet he was the most alive. This wasn't love, he knew about it, but at the same time he certainly knew that he couldn't simply gain this wonderful feeling with a mere anybody. He was wasted, body drenched in sweat, his bones felt like breaking. The skin on his back sting from the scratch that Jimin left with his fingers and so did his wrist. Especially his wrist. He oddly couldn't wait to see what sort of a masterpiece had the younger made on top of him.
Was he a beautiful painting? Did the red upon his pale skin bloomed like a rose, blood red, with its thorn sharp and prick? Would eyes wonder on his beauty?
"You're beautiful, hyung," Jimin said, reading his mind again.
Jimin reached for Yoongi's wrist again and the touch sting. He ghosted his own fingers against the skin, feeling the wet of blood on top of his old scars. Jimin brought his wrist again his lips again, kissing the blood away.
"It's bleeding again," the boy said.
"It would never heal because of you," Yoongi said, letting out a small laugh.
Jimin sighed, giving the wound one last kiss before he felt the younger gaze rested on him again.
"That's the first time you laugh," he said.
Did he? He hadn't laugh in a long time he had even forgotten how it sounded like. Don't even start with smiling, because he was sure as hell he hadn't done one that wasn't condescending. Still the younger had to mention that, of course.
"But I haven't seen you smile, hyung," he said.
Yoongi scoffed.
"You'll never."
And he always knew. He was alive and he could feel everything. It was the one thing that he definitely could. He didn't need to see Jimin smiling, because he could feel it already.
"But you are now, aren't you, hyung?"
And maybe it wasn't just Yoongi feeling things. It was Jimin who did as well. The boy could feel him as much as he could feel Jimin back.
And of course, he didn't need to answer that, because the boy could read his mind already.
Because he did smile, right there in the darkness with Jimin in front of him. For the first time since forever, Min Yoongi just smiled and Park Jimin didn't need the light to see it.
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