♠︎ twenty two

this chapter is for the yoongi biases.

fr tho, yoongi stans seem to consistently show up and support my work. i love how fierce and unapologetic you guys are. stay strong my loves, yoongle boongle will be back before you know it  💜

(obviously i love all stans guys pls don't be offended if ur not a yoongi bias kekeke)

anyway, here's some yoonmin content that lots of you asked for. enjoy!

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

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♠︎ YOONGI

Yoongi sat back into the couch, and let out a sigh of relief.

He loved these scavenger hunts really, but tonight, he was pretty glad to have been the one orchestrating it all. He didn't have the energy to be running around after midnight solving clues any more. Jungkook was constantly calling him a grandpa now, and Yoongi thought maybe he really was turning into one. 

But he didn't mind it. He drained the last of his whiskey, leaning back into the seat, knowing he had a good half an hour at least before the quickest team could solve the clues he'd set.

It was strange, then, when after only five minutes, a voice echoed from the doorway to the lounge.

"Hyung? I'm stuck on the second one."

Yoongi's eyes rolled up to hit the ceiling. 

Of course. 

"Jimin-ah," he greeted grumpily, though he didn't turn to look at his younger friend as he came into the room, shutting the door behind him. 

This was largely because he didn't want to give Jimin the impression that he cared about him being there - but also, because Jimin looked edible this evening, and Yoongi had barely been able to contain his boner earlier when he'd arrived for the scavenger hunt. 

Stupid sexy ass fucking brat. 

"Where's Jin-hyung? You're supposed to be on a team, Jimin," Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the younger, who simply smirked.

"He's off searching for a keyboard," Jimin informed him, coming to sit on the couch too, albeit a few feet away from Yoongi. "I'm supposed to be solving the rest of the clues."

"So go solve them," Yoongi deadpanned, closing his eyes and trying to block out Jimin's melodic voice.

No such luck.

"But I don't know if I can concentrate, hyung," he pouted at Yoongi from across the couch, tossing the sheet to one side and stretching his hands over his head. Yoongi didn't miss the band of his smooth abdomen that peeked out under his t-shirt as he reopened his eyes. "I'm too tired. Can you help me?"

Yoongi eyed the younger boy in amusement and confusion, at his practiced seduction. He'd heard, from Jungkook (and overheard on a few occasions) what Jimin was like in bed. He was willing, submissive, a pleaser - wanting to do anything to make his partner happy. 

He was not the annoyingly seductive little shit that he had become while torturing Yoongi over the last week. The one that was currently teasing Yoongi with that delicious strip of skin.

"What the fuck has gotten into you recently?" Yoongi mused aloud, in a calmer tone than he had expected, as he eyed the seductive expression on Jimin's face. "Jungkook never mentioned you being this much of a cocktease."

"A cocktease?" Jimin raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. "You think that's what's happening here? That I'm flirting with you or something?"

Yoongi stiffened for a moment. Had he seriously been reading Jimin's signals wrong all week?

But then he spotted the glint in Jimin's eye. He was trying to fuck with him.

And Yoongi was not one to be fucked with.

"Is that not what you're doing?" Yoongi was the one to raise his brow now, indicating down at where Jimin's abdomen was now perpetually showing, with his hands raised above his head. "You may as well be bent over the coffee table with your cheeks spread, Jiminie. I can feel how desperately you want it from here."

"Maybe I just really want that rice cooker," Jimin retorted with a shrug, unfazed by the vulgar words. But Yoongi was shaking his head, unconvinced.

"No," he said, getting up and walking away a little, across the lounge. He had to put distance between him and that flirtatious little fucker before things got out of hand. "I know you. I know what you want from me. And I'm not interested."

"Yes you are," Jimin pointed out, standing too and making his way over to face Yoongi. "You are, but you're too chicken to admit it."

It struck Yoongi then that he was alone with Jimin for what was probably the first time all week.

Alone, in this room. With the door closed.

And multiple surfaces for bending someone over.

That was a dangerous line of thought.

"I felt you pressed against me in that pool today," Jimin countered now, his arms crossed and hip cocked to one side. "Don't pretend like touching me didn't make you hard."

"You weren't exactly unexcited to see me either," Yoongi snapped back. Honestly, he'd been ruminating on Jimin's little escapade with the water gun earlier this afternoon far too many times. He couldn't help remembering the wicked grin on Jimin's face as he'd loomed over him. The way Jimin had pulled him under the water, their slick bodies writhing against each others' as they wrestled for control of the gun. The way Yoongi had hardened at the feel of Jimin's slender yet firm figure beneath his hands, and how his own pride had roared at the knowledge that Jimin had gotten hard from that too.

Nothing else had happened. They'd wrestled for the water gun, Yoongi winning in the end, and climbed out of the pool eventually. But it had made Yoongi irrationally frustrated, unable to concentrate on much else for the rest of the day.

Jimin was grinning now, knowing that Yoongi was replaying the memory too.

"See," he murmured, taking another step closer. "You want me. I want you. Why are you fighting it?"

When Yoongi opened his mouth to reply, he found he didn't have the words.

Why was he fighting it? He didn't even know any more.

"This could be so good, hyung," Jimin murmured against his lips. "Don't you wanna find out, hm? Don't you wanna put me in my place for all the shit I've done to you this week?"

But it was as Jimin continued that Yoongi remembered himself. He gazed into the younger's eyes, seeing desire reflected there in pools of black irises, and knowing that he would have to be the responsible one here - which was becoming increasingly difficult, as his mind filled with images of all the ways he did want to put Jimin in his place.

"Go," Yoongi urged him, his jaw so tight he knew he was about to snap if Jimin didn't clear the room in the next ten seconds. "If you know what's good for you."

But Jimin didn't move. "Why should I?"

"Because you're my friend. My dongsaeng," Yoongi said, the words almost venomous, as though he couldn't believe he was saying them. "My bandmate. And I'm not going to fuck you just because you're not getting dick from Jungkookie anymore."

Jimin stalled at this, his dark espresso eyes trained on Yoongi's. "You think that's why I want you? Like you're some kind of second choice?" he said, as if this were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

When Yoongi didn't reply to this, Jimin carried on.

"I want you because you're hot, Yoongi," Jimin said. The tone of his voice made Yoongi's stomach tighten. He said it like it was obvious. "You're the hottest guy here by far. You're so controlled in everything you do. It's sexy as fuck."

This was absolutely not what Yoongi had expected.

He'd just thought Jimin was horny. Searching for someone to fill the gap Jungkook had left, someone for a good fuck and nothing else.

He hadn't expected this, or the way Jimin's words made his heart pound against his ribcage.

"I want to know what you feel like, hyung," Jimin's lips were so close to Yoongi's now that they brushed his as he spoke. "I want to find out if you're like that, still in control, when you're right on the edge of losing it."

It was nearly impossible to think straight now. Every one of Yoongi's senses was invaded with the younger, with his fresh lemon scent and the taste of soft lips as the lingered dangerously near his. He had to shut this down, now. 

"You're playing with fire," Yoongi warned. It would be his final warning. He had nothing left to give.

"I know. I don't care," Jimin murmured, raising a hand to rest on Yoongi's chest. "Burn me."

Yoongi's final thread of self-restraint dissolved.

His hand looped around the back of Jimin's neck, smashing his mouth onto his in a ferocious kiss. Jimin didn't even flinch, his own hands winding around Yoongi's neck as he responded in kind, letting his mouth open for Yoongi to thrust his tongue against his.

Electricity prickled along Yoongi's spine, the realisation sinking in that he had Jimin, Park Jimin, in his arms right now, begging him to take him any way he wanted. Any other man would feel like he might have won the lottery, and an intensively possessive sensation unfurled in Yoongi's stomach, making him wrap his other arm around Jimin's waist and draw him closer. The kiss broke as they both came up for air, and Jimin laughed, a tinkling melodic sound that made Yoongi's pants tighten. 

"Fuck, you feel good," Jimin murmured, with Yoongi muttering his assent as he nosed along the younger's jaw. "I almost regret calling you princess now."

Yoongi grumbled at the memory of it, his grip on Jimin's waist tightening. "You should regret it."

But Jimin simply beamed, tilting his head to allow Yoongi more access to his beautiful, bare skin. "What would you prefer? Baby? Darling? How about kitten?"

"Don't you fucking dare," Yoongi hissed, nipping at Jimin's neck and making him moan. Yoongi drank the sound down like a drug.

Jimin singing? Angelic. Jimin moaning? Sinful.

It was like whiskey. Rich and honeyed and warm, sliding easily down his throat.

He wanted to hear it again. 

"It... oh... suits you," Jimin managed, between pants of air as Yoongi left marks along his neck. "I like it, kitten."

"Fucking brat," Yoongi hissed, licking his way down to Jimin's collarbone in a burning hot trail of kisses. "No manners."

"Teach me some," Jimin gasped, his fingers digging into Yoongi's shoulders and his hair as his own arms went around Jimin's waist. "Yoongi, please, I-"

The 'please' wasn't necessary. Yoongi had already decided that he was going to have Jimin right here and now, the rest of the house be damned, and that was before he felt how hard they were both getting when their bodies pressed together in his grip.

Fuck restraint. This was happening. 

His hands went for Jimin's belt, hand brushing over his hardening cock through the fabric of his pants as he did so, and Jimin tensed beneath him, and there was that beautiful moan again, as Yoongi undid buttons at the speed of light, desperate to get his hands on him-

But it wasn't to be.

The moment the buttons fell away and Yoongi's fingers paused at the waistband of Jimin's briefs, he heard the familiar turning click of the lounge doorway.

"Hyung? I think we have- oh," Hobi's face turned bright scarlet as he realised what was happening. 

There was no hiding it. Yoongi's hands were still on Jimin's pants, and Jimin was clinging to Yoongi for dear life, the pair of them panting heavily.

"Sorry," Hobi mumbled, backing out of the room as quickly as was humanly possible and shutting the door behind him.

Yoongi was still for a moment, blood still pounding in his ears and his veins roaring with lust, but the regrets were already beginning to seep in.

Shit, he thought. He should never have let that go so far.

Jimin, however, was undeterred. Already he was reaching for Yoongi again, his lip bitten in anticipation, clearly not put off by Hobi's interruption at all.

"Jimin-ah," Yoongi warned, taking Jimin's wrists in his hands gently to stop him. "That was a mistake."

Confusion marred Jimin's perfect features. "Huh? No it wasn't. It was us giving in to the inevitable, kitten."

"I told you," Yoongi rasped, ignoring the nickname and how annoyed it made him. "We're not doing this. It could ruin everything."

"Not if it's just fucking," Jimin shrugged casually. "It doesn't have to be complicated if we don't make it complicated."

Yoongi wished that were true.

For someone like Jimin, it probably was true. Jimin had always been able to separate sex from romance, and Yoongi had always envied him for it - the way he could hold that barrier up between himself and the guys he slept with.

But Yoongi wasn't like that.

Despite appearances, Yoongi was soft at the centre. He hated that it was true - but you didn't go nearly thirty years in the same body without learning a thing or two about it, and Yoongi knew that he wanted affection, and love, and care from the man he eventually ended up with. Despite whether or not he had just railed the living shit out of them. 

And yes, he could do casual sex, with the right person. But Jimin was not that person.

Yoongi couldn't explain it. He couldn't put his finger on it. Something about Jimin just made everything in Yoongi's world tilt on its axis. It always had, ever since debuting beside him; the younger had an inherent ability to pull others towards him and bring them to their knees in obsession. 

Yoongi didn't want to be one of them. He would not sacrifice his heart to someone who could crush it between his perfect, pouting lips in a millisecond. 

Not even for what would clearly be a mindblowing fuck.

"I said no, Jimin," Yoongi repeated now, with every inch of his restraint. He saw something akin to disappointment cross Jimin's features, but it was brief, and after a few seconds he rearranged his expression to be one of indifference.

"Okay. If that's what you want," Jimin murmured, shrugging and stepping backwards towards the door. "But if you change your mind..."

Jimin turned in the doorframe, grinning seductively at him with that crescent-mooned smile.

"You know where to find me, kitten," he finished.

Yoongi sighed heavily as the door shut behind him, placing a hand over his chest to feel his heart thundering against his ribcage.

This was not good. Really, really not good.

Having a crush on one of his members was not something he'd ever expected to get himself into. Especially on Jimin, who was notoriously unattached, forever averse to relationships and forming romantic attachments. 

He would have to shut it down, and quickly. 

But if the racing pulse and swirling ache in his heart was anything to go by...

It might be too late already.

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