In Close Quarters • Chapter 4 • 9.5K (Patreon)

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——————

They leave at an ungodly hour. He hasn’t slept at all, really, spent his time coming up with every single way he can make sure Jimin and he end up in that tent together.

So far, nothing.

He can’t ask the sergeant who purposely divided them to change the arrangement. He can’t threaten to sue even though he would love to— hybe would not be happy.

And worse is, if he tries to bring it up they’ll know it gets to him— and they’ll be able to exploit that even more, worsen the conditions whenever they see fit.

That’s just what it’s like here.

He has to find a way to do it quietly, without mentioning he wants to switch tents. 

————————

The site where they’re setting up is barren, the ground his hard under his boots, the grass white with frost. 

Perfect temperature to cuddle close together.

He scans the terrain, finds Jimin at the other end, bent down, laying out the canopy of his and Donghyuk’s tent. 

Jimin’s pants hug tight around the curve of his ass, has it gotten even bigger since they got here?

“Jeon, are you gonna help me set up this damn tent?”

He tears his eyes off. 

His bunk buddy is on his knees, frown on his face as he tries to connect the metal poles of the frame.

“Yeah, on it.”

If it was difficult to keep his eyes off Jimin before, it’s definitely a lot harder now. 

Desperate Jimin is burned on his retina, asking him to sneak into the toilets, the showers, the janitor’s closet, the equipment shed.

The conversation is not even 24 hours ago but Jimin hasn’t looked his way once after it.

It’s probably guilt, or shame. Whatever it is, it gnaws at him. Partially because he doesn’t want Jimin to feel bad, mostly because he doesn’t want Jimin to change his mind. 

Because if he doesn’t get to sleep in Jimin’s tent he’s going to explode. 

“You might want to be less obvious.” 

Jeongguk blinks, looks at his buddy. Jinyoung’s got dark circles under his eyes— which is probably his fault, always wakes him up in the middle of the night. 

“What?”

“With Jimin.”

Oh.

Fuck, he knows?

Jinyoung stands up then, shakes one of the tent poles to test the strength of the frame, doesn’t elaborate at all.

Jeongguk’s pulse quickens by the second. He glances around, makes sure no one is listening in, then takes a step closer.

“What do you mean?”

Jinyoung looks at him, not even a smidge of any type of emotion behind his eyes. He shakes his head.

“Just be careful.”

That’s all he gets.

Jinyoung pats his shoulder, then walks past him into the tent.

Fuck.

His heartbeat slams against his ribs. 

If it’s obvious for his bunk buddy, there’s no telling what the other members might think. 

And if the other members know, then maybe the reason their sergeant separated Jimin and him isn’t just because of their fuck up during patrol.

————————

Once he’s done with his tent he makes his way over to Jimin, who’s still setting up his and Donghyuk’s tent.

“Hey.” He nudges Jimin’s shoulder. “Can we talk?”

Jimin whips his head towards him, a look in his eyes that he can’t really place.

“Yeah later— just, help me put the stakes in.” Jimin hands him a few, turns away quickly. “I’ll do the other side.”

Jeongguk stares at Jimin’s back, watches him walk away. The corner of his mouth pulls down a little. 

Are they back to square one? Jimin finally broke yesterday, but now he’s avoiding him again. 

He sighs, looks down at the stakes in his hand, and just gets to work. 

Sooner or later they’re going to have to talk though, why does Jimin always delay the moment?

“Don’t you have to set up your own tent?” 

A voice calls. He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Donghyuk— that annoying tone is a dead giveaway.

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, pokes his tongue in his cheek.

“Mine’s done. Just helping out.”

He shrugs, just puts another stake in the ground. But a presence creeps up on him from behind anyway, sends a shiver down his spine.

“Don’t think I don’t know you want to sleep with your precious boyfriend.” Donghyuk keeps his voice low. “I’ll keep him warm for you.”

His breath hitches, body freezes on the spot. 

First Jinyoung, now Donghyuk?

Of all fucking people, Han Donghyuk.

He turns around quickly, clenches his fist around one of the stakes. He can’t let him spread a rumour like that.

Donghyuk raises a brow, a disgusting curl of the corner of his mouth.

“Gonna stab me with that, Jeon?”

Oh, he would. His hand trembles a little, but he wills it to stay put.

“Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin calls from the other side of the tent, cuts through the tension. “Need those stakes here.”

He clenches his jaw, stares into Donghyuk’s eyes a little longer, gives him the darkest look he can summon.

The next stake he puts in the ground goes in deep. 

———————

“Hyung.”

“Mm?” 

Jimin is busy setting up his stretcher, doesn’t even look up.

“Are you really doing this right now?” He asks softly. “Yesterday—“

“Yesterday was too much.” Jimin says quickly, as if he just wants it out. “I crossed the line.”

Ah, he should have known. Jimin always does this.

The thing is, he can’t blame him. With Jinyoung telling him to be careful and Donghyuk basically threatening him— the stakes of being caught are way too high. 

See, he knows all that, but when he meets Jimin’s gaze something tugs on his heartstrings. 

“But hyung..” He takes a step closer, lowers his voice. “You don’t want to be in one tent with Donghyuk, right?”

Jimin sighs, closes his eyes, shakes his head.

“Of course not.” He says, eyebrows furrowed when he looks at him. “But we— we can’t— even if we switched— we can’t.”

Can’t.

It’s a sad reality but the tiny win is that it’s not that Jimin doesn’t want to. 

He takes a deep breath, and then just nods. 

Jeopardising everything just to be together might turn out way worse.

They simply can’t.

So..

That should be his cue to leave, but his feet won’t move. Just being in Jimin’s presence feels safe— feels familiar. Even when he breathes out and the air fogs up, and the cold wraps around him slowly, it’s warm just when they’re together.

Jimin’s slanted eyes move over his face, from one eye, to the other, then down slowly to his lips.

A rush of heat runs down his spine instantly, body jolting alive, and like a magnetic force, his eyes pull down towards Jimin’s lips too. That soft, pink, pillowy heaven, they look flushed because of the cold.

How have they never kissed before?

In all those years in the dorm, all those years in hotel rooms, all those years spent closer to one an another than to anyone else..

Why did it never happen?

His throat runs dry. 

If Jimin would just lean in, just the slightest bit, he’d close the distance right here.

As if Jimin hears his thoughts, he doesn’t move an inch. 

His heart beats against his eardrums, fingers twitch slightly. 

“Hyung..”

“Unit C! Report!”

The drill sergeants voice carries over the entire base.

His back straightens instantly, Jimin snaps out of it too. 

There’s no time to talk, not that there is anything to say. This is a daily occasion now— there’s nothing to deny, nothing to lie about. Once they have a second of alone time they will kiss, he’s sure Jimin knows that too.

They make it to the briefing point like picture perfect soldiers, the only reminder of arousal his uneven breaths against the cold air. 

Sergeant Jung looks around the half circle, gaze piercing through every one of them. He takes slow steps, comes to a halt right in front of him. 

“Hand up, private Jeon.”

“Yes sir.”

Jeongguk holds up his hand, squares his jaw. Sergeant Jung hands him something, he only looks at it when the man steps back. 

What is it? a bundle of ropes?

“Take one, and pass it down.” Sergeant Jung instructs. “You’re each getting a piece of cord. It stays on you at all times— I don’t care where you keep it, tape it to your forehead if you have to. If I call ‘CORD CHECK!’ you will have it in your hand within three seconds.

Lose it, and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

Ah, fuck.

He takes one of the cords and passes it down. It’s pretty thin, he doesn’t know where he’s going to keep this.

“What is the punishment sir?”

One brave soul speaks up. 

“Private Choi is afraid he’ll lose it before he even has it.” 

Some of their unit members chuckle.

“Lose it once, you’ll be cleaning all the dishes tonight. Lose it twice, well.. there is a lovely hammock in the forest you’ll spend the night.”

Jeongguk blinks, doesn’t hear anything for a solid second after that.

This is it. 

The corner of his mouth threatens to curl up, he bites the inside of his cheek.

This is how he’s going to end up in Jimin’s tent.

————————

“But sir I swear I have it— I put it in my pocket!”

“Three seconds are up private Han, get your gloves ready for the dishes.”

Donghyuk turns the pockets of his jacket inside out, goes for the pockets of his pants again. 

Jeongguk holds up his own piece of cord proudly like the rest of the unit, and clutches around another piece of cord in his pocket. 

“Private Han. Are you ignoring orders?”

“No sir.” 

Donghyuk straightens his back, but he’s still feeling up his pockets, curses under his breath.  

Jeongguk can’t help it this time around, the way the corner of his mouth pulls up just a bit. 

Fuck, he can’t show it. he bites his lower lip.

“You better be washing those dishes the next minute, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

Donghyuk gives up, clicks his tongue, makes his way to collect all their dirty dishes, but the moment he passes by, their eyes meet.

He does a terrible job at hiding his smirk, and Donghyuk pauses for a second, eyes narrowing.

“Did you fucking do this?” 

Shit— he made it too obvious.

“Private Han.” Sergeant Jung’s voice could scare a man miles away. “10 seconds.”

Donghyuk holds his gaze a bit longer, but then curses again and walks off. 

He does his absolute best not to watch him pathetically collect their dishes— shouldn’t be having so much fun over Donghyuk’s suffering, the Sergeant will sniff it out and make him a target next.

So he keeps his face impassive, looks straight ahead. 

Though something draws his attention from his corner, a pair of eyes bore into his skull.

It’s Jimin, he can tell just by the silhouette in his peripheral. 

When they lock eyes, he can read Jimin’s expression perfectly. 

Was this your doing?

“Resume training!”

———————

Was it you?

The text stares at him on his screen. He lies down on his stretcher, gnaws on the inside of his cheek.

what

it was, wasn’t it?

He’s not sure if Jimin would tell him to stop if he said yes, but he also doesn’t want to lie. 

maybe

it doesn’t matter

just don’t let that guy come close to you

For a while he doesn’t get a text back, stares at a lit up screen in the dark. 

he’s a weirdo hyung 

I know, I can handle it though

Ah..

He takes a deep breath, then sighs. 

I know

Truth is, he’s not afraid Donghyuk would do anything to Jimin, he’s sure Jimin can defend himself but..

I just don’t want him close to you

I’m your buddy, I should be with you

You have to be more careful

He’s been grilling me about you, so don’t give him leverage

Jeongguk grinds his teeth. 

All the more reason to fuck this guy over, if he’s grilling Jimin like that.

I’m not giving him leverage I’m teaching him a lesson

Another minute passes before he gets a text back.

just please be careful

He blinks a few times, sighs again.

Just yesterday Jimin was all over him, giving him those lust-glazed, half-lidded eyes, caressing through his hair when he strapped up his boots.

He misses it.

Hates that he has to be careful.

He’s been craving Jimin for months now, needs to have him one way or another. What he’d do to just feel his lips on his own.

It’s mean, how rational Jimin is right now. so detached, so factual. Like nothing even fazes him.

hyung

He shouldn’t do this.

yeah?

He presses send quickly, before he changes his mind.

do you still want me?

It’s unfair, but he needs to know. If he’s doing this all for nothing he should just cut it off now.

It takes Jimin a minute, and it’s just:

Jeongguk

He almost hears that tone, pictures the warning glance Jimin always gives him. 

He can’t let it go.

yes or no?

It’s not that simple

yes or no?

Stop asking

You can’t sabotage someone for this

What if the sergeant finds out?

He pokes his tongue in his cheek, sends it one last time.

yes or no hyung?

Jimin goes offline.

He bites on his tongue, watches the screen for a good few minutes.

He’s tempted to just spam Jimin but that will just piss him off more, so he locks his phone.

It buzzes right that second.

His screen lights up.

yes.

———————-

The first time had been fairly easy. Donghyuk just left his jacket over a chair and Jeongguk just so happenedto see his cord. 

But for the next few cord checks Donghyuk has kept it tied around his wrist— and he’s been unable to get close.

He’s been seriously considering sneaking into Donghyuk and Jimin’s tent at night and stealing it from his wrist, but that would only be possible if he was on night watch, and if Donghyuk is a deep sleeper.

There’s got to be a time where Donghyuk takes it off, maybe during field training or—

Oh. 

Shower.

he’d probably take it off during a shower, right?

But, fuck, that’s gonna be difficult.

With the designated times for them to use the outside shower near the lake, he’d have to hide in the woods and wait for Donghyuk to take it off.

And if Donghyuk is being extra careful, he might not even take it off at all.

He bites on his cheek.

Is it worth it?

Worst case scenario is probably pretty severe.. getting caught hiding near the showers.

but does that weigh up against Jimin wanting him?

————————

Hiding out in the woods is not that difficult, after extensive training. 

He’s made his way down all the way to the shower area, watches his unit members appear one after the other. If the sergeant were to catch him here— he doesn’t know what kind of trouble he’d be in but.. it’s not looking good.

Most of the guys put their clothes a little bit uphill in a dry area, take their cord off and put it in their boots. 

Getting close shouldn’t be a problem but, if Donghyuk is going to be watching that area he might have to crawl slowly.

He sneaks his way over there when there’s no one at the showers, back against a tree, slides down low, his heartbeat picks up a little bit. 

This is absolutely insane. 

But he knows it’s almost Donghyuk’s designated time, saw his name earlier on the sheet. 

So when Jimin shows up next, it knocks the air out of his lungs.

He’s been so focused on getting revenge that he skimmed over the list to find Donghyuk’s name, and never even considered for a second that Jimin also has a time slot to take a shower.

Oh god, fuck. 

Why now?

He leans down low, breathes out against the cool air.

He should look away— he’s absolutely not here to spy on Jimin—

Jimin takes off his jacket, unbuttons from the top down, one by one, shrugs it off his shoulders. A plain black t-shirt clings to his body, tight around his chest and shoulders. He’s really bulked up.

With one hand, Jimin grabs the back of his collar and takes off his shirt swiftly. His dog tag falls against his bare chest, nipples stiffening against the cool air and god— how fucking irresistible. His eyes are glued to Jimin’s torso— never has he ever fantasised about a guy’s chest but, here he is, salivating over it.

Over the nevermind tattoo etched against his ribs, the outline of Jimin’s abs, and his deep v-line.

Did he ever care about it before? Is it really just the circumstances that make Jimin this alluring? 

It’s not like he’s never had passing thoughts about how Jimin has got a good body, but he’s had those thoughts about the other members too, if it was more than that shouldn’t he have noticed then?

Has he ever ran his eyes over Jimin’s body and marvelled at just how graceful his fingers move when he undoes the button of his pants, did he ever have a difficult time tearing his eyes off Jimin’s thighs just like this?

heat rushes up to his face, the cold ground underneath him can’t fight against the warmth that spreads slowly through his veins.

Jimin hooks his fingers in his underwear, pulls them down so Jeongguk gets a full view of those bare ass cheeks— they’re definitely bigger than before.

His cock twitches, unapologetic— like it always does whenever he sees that natural arch under the shower.

But this time, no one else is around. 

It’s just him hiding out in the fucking forest, spying on Jimin like a creep. 

Fuck— he should really just look away. He should grant Jimin the privacy of this moment, though it’s an outside shower it’s better than communal showers, no one is around. No one should be around. 

Ah fuck, he can never tell Jimin he was here. 

But he also can’t look away. 

He’s hypnotised by the sight of Jimin stepping under the shower, the sight of him tipping his head back to let the water hit his face, the way he brushes his short black hair back.

Even the arch of his neck is beautiful, the sharp line of his jaw, the youth tattoo inked behind his ear. 

God, he might be going to hell.

And if he is, then it’s fine that he runs his eyes down lower, follows the soap bubbles along Jimin’s body, follows those small hands running over his stomach, down lower.

Lower..

he bites on his lip, cheeks burning when he crosses the line.

Jimin washes himself between his legs, runs his hands over his cock, turns just slightly and Jeongguk’s breath hitches.

He’s hard.

Jimin’s cock— it’s half hard, at least, standing up a little bit as he washes it, which makes it twitch and grow even harder, slowly arching up all the way against his stomach. 

Fuck—

This is insane, fuck.

He can’t catch his breath, a shock of electricity runs down his spine. 

He’s never seen Jimin hard. 

All those years together and he’s never seen it. 

It’s not only just that but— fuck, Jimin is.. bigger when he’s hard. It arches up, the head reaches over his bellybutton, and fuck, why is he still watching? 

He’s breathing so loud he has to cover his mouth— feels his dick pressing hard against the fabric of his pants, can’t believe the first time he’s seeing Jimin hard is in the fucking forest.

Jimin bites on his lower lip, washes the rest of his body quickly, but one of his hands keeps going back to his cock, curls around the length like he can’t help himself, strokes it once, twice just to take the edge off— then take it off like he knows he shouldn’t. 

Jeongguk swallows, his eyelids sink— what he’d give to help Jimin out right now. 

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, leans his one arm against the shower, rests his forehead on it. And then he runs his other hand down, curls it around his cock and just— jerks off.

Fuck.

Jeongguk pants, sweat breaks out on his skin, the heat almost unbearable, prickling over his back. His cock presses against the fabric of his pants hard, seeks friction against the cold forest ground. 

Fuck— how long has Jimin been holding back? How long has he been doing this hands-free? 

He’s jerking off fast, the slide of his hand shallow and quick just around the head— the water amplifies the sound, carries it all the way here. 

Wet, rhythmic, hot— Jimin doesn’t moan but his lips part in an erotic “oh” shape, and Jeongguk can’t do fucking anything but stare. 

His throat is dry, his hips cant against the ground, he’s breathing in leaves and forest— heat accumulates and curls in his gut.

This is insane. This is the most insane place he’s ever gotten horny— the dorms are nothing in comparison.

Jimin picks up the pace, his head hanging by this point. With each stroke the head of his cock gets even more flushed, balls pulling tighter.

He’s close.

Jeongguk bites back a moan, squirms against the ground, drags his cock over whatever— needs it so bad.

Jimin’s body spasm then, his hips buck into his hand hard, and he bites down on his arm— muffles his moan the best he can but the sound still carries, high and whiny— and then he comes. 

White, slick, ropes of cum shoot from the head of his cock, land on the wood under his feet, his knees buckle, arm sliding down the shower pole like his entire body just gives.

Jeongguk’s jaw drops, and his eyes roll back then, vision going white when he ruts erratically against the inside of his pants and comes not even a second later. Warm and sticky cum fills up his underwear, a pure euphoric feeling rushing through his veins as he drags against the ground.

Never in his life has he come somewhere outside. Sure he’s been adventurous but the fucking forest? In his pants? 

He pants against the leaves, flutters his eyes open. 

Jimin is milking his cock, twisting his wrist around the length as it slowly softens in his hand.

Meanwhile the cum in his pants gets a little cold— and it only now really registers what a terrible idea that was. He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

What’s wrong with him?

He takes a moment to repent, then looks up to see Jimin get dressed. 

Man, he can never speak to him about this.

He lays low until finally, after another good ten minutes of bathing in shame and his sweat turning cold, Donghyuk shows up at the shower. 

When he takes off his jacket, Jeongguk spots that cord tied around his wrist. 

This is the moment of truth, he could have come here for nothing, literally and figuratively, if Donghyuk keeps the damn cord on. 

He holds his breath as Donghyuk moves on to undress, shirt, pants underwear, everything goes but the damn cord.

His stomach drops. 

Was it for nothing?

Donghyuk already reaches for the lever of the shower, but then pulls back last second, takes off the cord and puts it in one of his boots. 

Jeongguk sighs, bids a thank you to whoever is up there, and then waits.

As soon as Donghyuk turns on the water, he starts crawling. 

Luckily the sound of the water splattering against the wood dims the sound of every single leaf and twig crackling as he drags his body forward. 

Except, unlike Jimin, Donghyuk doesn’t face the shower, he faces his clothes, he’s alert.

Each time he opens his eyes Jeongguk stops in his tracks, heart in his throat.

He can’t take too long, they only have 5 minutes on the clock, he needs to make it happen before that, but with Donghyuk looking his general direction every few seconds—

Fuck.

He looks down, finds a pebble right near his hand. 

Oh.

That might work.

He grabs it, waits until Donghyuk closes his eyes for a second, then throws the pebble right over him, makes it land right in the lake next to the shower.

The splash is loud enough for Donghyuk to jump. 

“the fuck was that?”

that distraction is all he needs to reach into Donghyuk’s boot and get the cord. 

He clutches it tightly in his hand, silent victory makes his mouth curl up a bit. But it’s not over, he still has to make it back, not much time left on the clock.

He feels high on adrenaline, breathing fast as he crawls over the cold forest ground as soundlessly as possible. And when he’s sure he’s out of the sound range he moves a little faster, hides behind a tree.

“Fuck!”

Donghyuk’s voice carries through the forest, and Jeongguk leans his head back against the hard wood, a grin pulls on his lips.

“Jeongguk!”

Ah, how sweet, he knows it’s him.

He opens his hand, looks at the cord one last time, and then casts a glance over his shoulder.

Donghyuk is dressing up quick, almost falling over. 

He takes a deep breath, then manoeuvres his way from tree to tree, has to get back without being seen. 

As soon as he’s downhill, out of sight, he makes a run for it. 

————————

Donghyuk storms into his tent, face red and blotchy, hair wet, completely out of breath.

Jeongguk lies there on his stretcher, arms behind his head. 

“Donghyuk?” Jinyoung looks up, frown on his face. “What’s up?”

“Shut up.” Donghyuk walks up to him, immediately grabs his collar. “Where the fuck is it Jeon?”

He curls his hand around Donghyuk’s wrist, squeezes it hard.

“Ah— fucker, where is it?”

“Hey!, calm the fuck down” Jinyoung stands up from his stretcher quickly, pulls Donghyuk off. “what’s going on?”

Jeongguk sits up, straightens his shirt, gives Donghyuk absolutely nothing, though keeping his smile under control is difficult.

“That fucker stole my cord!”Donghyuk points a finger at him, yanks his arm out of Jinyoung’s grip. “He stole it the first time too!” 

“I didn’t do shit, you just lost it.” 

“You fucking—“

“What’s with the commotion, privates?”

Sergeant Jung steps into the tent, and Donghyuk’s eyes widen immediately, attitude suddenly nowhere to be found. Like a kicked puppy, he scrambles for words.

“Jeon stole my cord, sir.”

Sergeant Jung’s eyes narrow, they land on him.

“Private Jeon?”

Jeongguk stands up.

“Yes sir.”

“Did you steal private Han’s cord?”

“No sir.”

“He did sir. I had it when I showered, put it in my boot and when I came back it was gone.”Donghyuk argues, pointing at him again. “I know it was him.”

Sergeant Jung sucks in a sharp breath.

“And how exactly is that private Jeon’s fault?”

Jeongguk looks down at his boots, the corner of his mouth threatens to curl up. 

“I just know. He has it out for me!”

“You just know?” Sergeant Jung’s voice is sharp, cuts like a polished knife. “Do we operate based off assumptions?”

“Well.. no sir, but—“

“If I told you to kill a soldier because I assumed he was an enemy, would you shoot?”

Donghyuk’s face drains of any colour.

“N-no sir.”

“That’s right.” Sergeant Jung leans in close to Donghyuk’s face. “Now, in another 15 minutes I will yell cord check, so you better start looking.”

Donghyuk’s eyes go wide.

Jeongguk bites on his cheek hard, pure satisfaction runs through his veins. 

“Dismissed.”

Donghyuk shoots him one last dark glance, but then makes it out of the tent with a huff. 

“Private Jeon.”

Sergeant Jung says then, turning towards him. 

Oh fuck..

His heartbeat picks up a bit.

“Yes sir.”

“When Private Han was showering, where were you?”

Those stark eyes bore into his skull. it costs him everything to not move a single muscle.

“Here, sir.”

He says, crosses his fingers behind his back and hopes he buys it.

There’s a long, dreadful silence. 

Then the sergeant turns to Jinyoung.

“Private Kim, can you confirm?”

Oh.

Sweat breaks out on his skin as he looks at his bunk buddy. 

That look he got when they were setting up tents, and the advice, he still doesn’t know if that was meant to be kind or not. 

“I can confirm sir.” Jinyoung says without skipping a beat. “Jeon was on his stretcher for the past half hour.”

Thank fucking god. 

————————

“Why did you cover for me?”

He asks once the sergeant is out.

Jinyoung sighs, sits down on his stretcher and rubs his over his forehead.

“You want to sneak into Jimin’s tent, right?”

..

is it that obvious?

He doesn’t reply, Jinyoung doesn’t wait for it either.

“I figured you both need it.”he says, lies back down on his stretcher. “You two better fuck it out, I’m done hearing you two moan in your sleep.”

Jeongguk blinks, heat rushes up to his cheeks.  

All this time he thought Jinyoung just hated him. 

“Thanks..”

“Don’t thank me. Just make sure you’re quiet tonight.”

Jeongguk huffs out a breath, drops back onto his stretcher, heart still hammering from the lie, from the thrill, from the cord burning in his pocket.

Quiet tonight.

Fuck, he doesn’t know if he can.

If it’s actually going to happen.

————————

They’re called to gather again not long after, the entire unit in a half circle around the briefing point.

Sergeant Jung’s voice cuts through the cold.

“CORD CHECK!”

This is his favourite part of the day.

He holds up Donghyuk’s cord, not that it matters, they’re all the same, no one would notice the difference, but he does know, and he revels in it.

Around him, cords appear one by one.

Except Donghyuk.

Of course.

“Sir, I— I had it when I went to shower, I swear—”

“Three seconds are up, private Han,” Sergeant Jung says, calm in that terrifying way. “You know the rules.”

“Sir, it was Jeon—”

“Cord. Lost. Twice.” the sergeant says. “You’ll be spending the night in a lovely hammock a few miles away. Maybe a few hours listening to the forest will teach you to keep better track of your gear.”

Some of the unit members snort, others are dead silent.

“Understood, private Han?”

Donghyuk’s shoulders slump.

“...Understood, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Boots scrape and crunch as the circle breaks apart. Donghyuk walk off toward the tents, cursing under his breath.

Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek to keep his mouth in line. He glances up then— just once.

Jimin is looking at him, eyes are a little wide, and then quickly, he looks down.

Jeongguk tears his eyes off as well, but heat slowly crawls up his neck.

Because he knows what that was; fear tangled with want. 

————————

The sun is down when they gather for dinner, one big campfire in the midst of their tent U-formation. 

He spots Jimin from afar, recognises him by his silhouette alone, or maybe it’s the slow strides, the way he carries himself.

The sight he saw earlier under the showers is still fresh in his mind, so it’s not all that weird that when they’re face to face he can’t get a word out.

The golden light dances over Jimin’s face, a soft, pink blush on his cheeks, a glow lighting him up a little more than normal. 

Oh.

Afterglow.

God— he looks so pretty.

“You.. uh.. you want to eat?”

Jimin asks, averts his gaze right after.

“Mmh.” 

He nods. 

They quietly walk to the campfire, get a bowl of rice and sit down.

The rest of the unit is engaged in conversation, none of them pay attention to them, which gives him the perfect excuse to scooch just a little closer, until their shoulders brush.

Just that slight bit of warmth, a ghost of contact.

Jimin stiffens beside him, bowl untouched, breath coming too shallow to just be from the cold.

“How did you do it?”

Oh, fuck. 

They’re doing this.

“Do what?”

“The cord.”Jimin whispers, eyes on his bowl. “You didn’t have time— he had it tied around his wrist. So.. how?”

Jeongguk exhales slowly. 

“I waited.”

Jimin’s eyes flick to him— a panicked glint in them.

“Where?”

It’s like he already knows, but really doesn’t want to hear the answer.

Jeongguk swallows, then shrugs.

“Near the showers.”

Jimin’s chest rises too fast, but he doesn’t say anything— just looks at him a little too long, the tips of his ears turning red.

“You— you were close?” 

He doesn’t ask it out right, but he’s asking alright. 

Did you see? is written all over his face.

Fuck, he’s doing a terrible job at concealing it, pretty sure he’s turning red too with the way his cheeks burn.

Maybe it’s his silence that makes it obvious, because Jimin gasps softly, whips his head to his bowl of rice. 

“Oh.”

Yeah oh.

The silence stretches, he doesn’t have any excuse ready. 

He can’t say he didn’t see it— his face would give him away, can’t deny that he watched. The sight of Jimin’s knees buckling, hand around his cock, cum spurting over the wood replays over and over and over—

“You shouldn’t— you shouldn’t have been there.” 

Jimin breathes out. 

“I needed to.” He swallows. “Had to get that cord— his time slot was after yours.”

Jimin’s eyes squeeze shut for a second.

“So you saw me.”

Fuck..

“A little.”

His eyes involuntarily run over Jimin’s body— he can practically see through his clothes, knows every line, every birthmark, every dip.

His mouth waters, and when he looks back up, Jimin’s eyes are on his own— just like yesterday.

Lust-glazed, half-lidded, that blush tainting his cheeks red, lips parted.

All the air gets knocked out of his lungs.

“Why— why would you go that far? could have been caught.” Jimin whispers. “If the sergeant saw you—“

“I needed to.” He whispers, eyes dropping to Jimin’s lips. “You still want me.”

Jimin’s hands clutch around his bowl tightly, breath hitching. As if it wasn’t him who said that over text.

He looks up, sees Jimin struggle to come up with anything, like his mind is a mess.

It might be getting a little too real, now. 

The dorms are safe, sexting is safe, moaning each other’s name in the middle of the night but never acknowledging it, talking about wet dreams— all safe. Always a barrier to keep them apart.

Tonight that barrier is gone.

That’s why Jimin looks at him like this, a mix of need, lust, fear.

“It’s light’s out in an hour.. hyung.”

He says softly, heart thumping steadily against his chest. 

Jimin’s lashes flutter, a small hitch of breath, and then his eyes drop to Jeongguk’s mouth for a single, electric second.

—————————

Sneaking past the night watch is the easiest part of the night.

It’s when he finally gets into Jimin’s tent that the real struggle begins.

The small led lantern is on, casting a moonlight type light over the space. Jimin stands next to his stretcher, hands in his hair before he notices his arrival. 

“Jeongguk-ah.”

Oh-oh.

Jimin’s eyes are drooping, furrow between his brows.

Jeongguk walks up to him slowly, lowers his sleeping bag from his shoulder. 

“Hyung..”

“We can’t do this.” Jimin says, chest rising fast. “I— I’ve thought about it but it’s— it’s too risky— everything—“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He drops his sleeping bag, chest tightening— he hates seeing Jimin upset. “I understand— it’s..”

Crazy.

That’s what it is.

Risking everything to sleep in a tent together, their careers, their image, their friendship.

“I can just go back, hyung.” He says, though his heart sinks a little. “I get it.”

Jimin’s eyes twinkle in the light.

“No— I don’t mean— I want you to stay but we can’t..” 

can’t.. touch.

Jeongguk gives a slow nod, sort of feared this would happen. Jimin’s always been the rational one out of the two of them. He’s been actively avoiding every single thought of what it would do to them— to cross that line. 

“So.. then, what do you want to do?” 

He asks softly.

“Well..” Jimin nods at the corner, where he’s arranged two stretchers right next to each other. “We can just.. talk til morning— like we used to.”

A pang of nostalgia— his body suddenly aches. A small smile tugs on his lips then. 

“Okay hyung..”

They quietly take off their clothes, until they’re in just thermals, then slide into their sleeping bags, facing each other.

It’s freezing, Jeongguk can barely feel his toes, automatically scooches a little closer to Jimin. 

He gets that smile— warm and familiar. And for a moment everything feels almost normal.

Almost.

Except, they’re not talking.

After the soft smiles and breathy giggles there really isn’t anything that comes to mind.

It’s silent but for the crickets outside, the rustle of their sleeping bags when they move.

Every breath they take creates a fog, perfectly captured by the LED light. 

It’s abundantly clear that it’s not like how it used to be. It can’t be like how it used to be, something already snapped.

It’s not long before his eyes do whatever they want— slide down Jimin’s face, find the shape of his mouth, plush, a little swollen from the cold, his cupids bow looks almost round from this angle.

And lower, he finds Jimin’s adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows, that long, elegant neck— so exposed.

His mouth waters, a low heat creeps up his back. 

Nothing is the same.

Everything is different.

his chest heaves when he takes another deep breath, traces his eyes back up the same way— those slanted eyes already on him.

When he lifts his leg, their knees touch for a second, Jimin pulls away quick.

a breathless, empty laugh— there’s only panic and desire. 

It’s going to explode, Jeongguk feels it, his throat is tight, his body is tense from his fingers to his toes, he’s holding back with his very being. 

And he’s afraid. Scared fucking shitless.

He licks his lips, voice barely a breath.

“Hyung… can we just— hug? For a bit?”

His heart slams against his ribs.

Jimin’s eyes flicker to his lips and back up— a sliver of panic, a whole lot of want.

just a shaky nod.

more than enough.

He moves first— carefully, like any sudden shift might scare Jimin away. He slips an arm out of his sleeping bag, then shuffles forward, fabric dragging over fabric.

Jimin doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to breathe. He just watches him with wide eyes. Like this might be a mistake, but he never tells him to stop.

When their chest brushes together, the air leaves both of them at the same time.

He wraps an arm around Jimin’s waist, hesitant, gives him space to pull away. Their sleeping bags rustle as he draws Jimin closer, stretchers creaking a little under them.

Jimin rests his forehead against his shoulder, breathes out against his collarbone, his arm shaky as he wraps it around his neck.

God— fuck.

He tips his chin down, his nose brushes against Jimin’s neck— enough to make the both of them shudder. 

But never crossing the line. 

Hugs should feel comforting but this feels like torture. The heat of Jimin’s breath against his collarbone, the way his fingers grab the fabric of his shirt near the collar. 

Every breath he takes is that familiar, soft scent— a light hint of peaches— unmistakably Jimin. 

Closer..

He digs into the fabric of the sleeping bag, pulls Jimin’s body in against his own— flush— no escape. 

not close enough. 

He drags the tip of his nose up the vein of Jimin’s neck, the slightly cold, soft skin too close to his lips, tempting him to close the distance. 

He wishes.

“Can I.. open the sleeping bags? Need you closer.”

He breathes out, way too close to Jimin’s ear, lower lip almost brushing against the lobe. 

Jimin’s breath staggers, but another nod and he’s right on it. He unzips both of the sleeping bags, and then just slots their bodies together, his thigh between Jimin’s, his arm around his waist, face right back into the crook of his neck.

He’s never held Jimin like this before— they’ve hugged, they’ve spooned, but this—

It’s pure greed.

Soft, sweet, his fingers dig into Jimin’s waist, fabric of his thermals in the way. 

Staggered breaths— plucking at the hem of his shirt, dragging his nose over Jimin’s neck a  second time to let him know it’s not a coincidence. 

Jimin’s breath hitches— he bares it more, gives him access.

The dam breaks.

He kisses the skin under his lips, feverish, hasty, once, twice— addicted.

“Mmh—“

Jimin moans, broken, fists his hand in his shirt.

Fuck.

“Sorry— hyung—“

“No—“

He licks over the heated skin, a shudder running down his spine. Jimin gasps, hand flying to his hair now, keeping him right there.

“More—“ Jimin pants.

His brain shuts off.

He groans; bites, licks, kisses Jimin’s neck, heat rushing through his body, spreading like wildfire. He sucks for a second, but a sharp tug on his hair alerts him— no marks.

“Mmh.” He moans, kisses up the vein, runs his hand down to Jimin’s ass and squeezes it. 

“A—ah.”

A single moan makes his cock twitch— that high and whiny tone from before. He rocks against Jimin’s hip once— needs him to feel his arousal, presses the start of his bulge against his hipbone, drags against it.

“Oh— oh my god.”

Jimin pants.

“Hyung—“ He rasps, brings his face up until their noses touch, eyes shaking. “Hyung.”

“Fuck.”

Jimin leans in and their lips touch— 

A storm— thunder strikes through his body and all he sees is white for a second before he crashes.

“Mmh—“ He moves his lips, opens them against Jimin’s— hot breath mingling— so soft, the softest lips he’s ever felt. His eyes blow wide.

“Fuck— hyung—“

“I know—“ 

Jimin pulls him back in, mouth hot, lips so fucking greedy. 

The air around them is burning up, his body is on fire— mouth moving on its own, way too hard— way too into it— Jimin is the same. 

A hot, wet tongue slips into his mouth and he can’t even— 

“Nnngh—“ his hips jerk against Jimin’s hipbone, hands gripping onto anything— squeezing Jimin’s ass, fisting in the fabric near Jimin’s chest. 

“Mmh—“ Jimin whimpers, the slightest roll of his hips— Jeongguk can feel it twitch against his thigh.

Oh fuck— yes.

Yes.

He licks into Jimin’s mouth, tastes his saliva on his tongue, sweet and hot and never fucking enough. He needs to feel him everywhere, needs to taste him everywhere. 

“Jeongguk—ah.”

Fuck.

He slips his hand under Jimin’s thermal, fingers burning a path along his skin, they’re burning together, burning everything to the ground. 

This could never be friendship— nothing can ever be the same again. Maybe it never has been.

Jimin’s mouth burns for him, hot and needy as if it’s been waiting for years. 

It’s not enough— never enough, he needs all of Jimin tonight or he might die. 

He pulls on the hem of Jimin’s thermal until jimin sits up and takes it off for him, followed by his shorts and underwear. Jeongguk strips right after, until there’s nothing but his cold dog tag against his chest.

They slot together just like before, bodies hot, mouths magnetic— no fucking second to lose. Jimin’s hand flies to his hair, hold him close while they sink into each other over and over— spit mingling, tongues sliding against each other like it’s their last kiss— 

“Mmh— fuck— mmh—“

Jimin’s hand slides down his face, over his jaw, over his neck, over his collarbone, to his chest, squeezing, feeling his body heat.

He pants, ragged breaths fill the silence, his body moves for him, an arm curling under Jimin’s leg, pulling his thigh over his hip. 

“Wanna fuck?”

He pants, it slips from his mouth gracelessly but Jimin nods so quick he doesn’t rephrase.

“Yeah— fuck me.”

Oh.

He nods too— though his brain short-circuits. And then he just slips two fingers in his own mouth, sucks around them quick.

Jimin’s half-lidded eyes stare into his own, and as soon as he pops his lips off his fingers, Jimin searches for them with his own lips.

Hot, so incredibly hot— the inside of Jimin’s mouth, his tongue sliding between his fingers, the erotic blush on his cheeks, the moans and pants that fill the space between them.

He’s rock hard— cock leaking against his stomach.

“Mmh— wet enough.” He pants, slips his fingers out with a wet pop, slides his hand between Jimin’s legs.

He’s never done this but Jimin guides his hand, nods for him when he presses one against his rim.

The ring of muscle gives the second he puts a little pressure on it, and he slides it inside with a soft gasp. 

Incredible, tight, heat around his finger, and the sight of Jimin’s head tipping back in pleasure.

“A—ah, fuck. Move— hurry.”

Yeah.

He nods, closes the distance because any second without Jimin’s mouth on his own is a waste of time.

It’s hot— wet, both sides. Jimin’s mouth is demanding, lips relentlessly capturing his own. He pushes his finger in deep, curls it, does anything until he feels Jimin move his hips on him— moving up and down impatiently.

He adds another wordlessly, slips it in and feels Jimin’s body stiffen, every muscle clenching.

“Ah— fuck— there.”

Jimin pulls him closer by his hair, looks into his eyes— wild, layer of sweat shimmering on his nose and cheeks.

“Mmh.” He nods, eyes pulling towards those swollen lips and covering them with his own when he curls his fingers, pushes against a soft spot inside to make Jimin mewl and twist and turn—

“A—ah yes— oh fuck, yes.”

Jimin groans, tips his head back, another loud moan. Jeongguk goes for his neck, kisses it, licks it, bites it, sucks a mark—

“Stop— no marks.”

Fuck.

He curses, moves lower, mouth dragging over Jimin’s collarbone, to his chest, bites right next to his nipple and sucks on the skin.

“N—no marks— Jeongguk— no marks—“

“Nngh—“ He bites over his hickey, licks over Jimin’s nipple, feels it stiffen under his tongue, and sucks on it.

“A—ahhh—“ Jimin arches into his mouth, hand fisting in his hair tight, and then he moves his hips harder, fucks himself on his fingers, the heat so addictive.

Jeongguk smacks his lips together, kisses Jimin’s other nipple, licks around the stiffened nub, then looks up under his lashes.

Jimin’s mouth is open— eyes closed, moans fall from his lips unfiltered. 

“Jeongguk— fuck me.”

An electric shock jolts through his body, his cock twitches, throbs against his stomach. 

“Need more— fingers?”

“No— fuck me now. Fuck me”

Oh—

God.

He pants, slips his fingers out, rolls Jimin onto his back and sits up on his knees between his legs. 

He spits in his hand, brings it down and lubes up his cock— wishes he had actual lube but it’s all make do. 

Jimin is sprawled out underneath him, face flushed, legs spread, mouth swollen. His eyes are glazed over but they’re begging him to go in— begging him to take.

His breath hitches, a bit of precum leaks from the slit and he uses it, spreads it over the head of his cock, then looks down. He pushes one of Jimin’s legs up a little, gasps when he sees that rim— so tight. 

He rushes to align his cock with it, hand trembling around the base, eyes rolling back when they make contact— the head kissing Jimin’s rim. 

“Mmh— fuck, kiss me.” Jimin pants, beckons him down. 

He leans over, dog tag bumping against Jimin’s chin before their lips crash— a shiver running down his spine because they fit together perfectly.

Jimin’s hand curls around the back of his neck, lips greedy, mouth hot. 

He pushes forward, feels the ring of muscle resist, too tight, too small to take his cock— 

“Nngh—“ His hands start to sweat, Jimin licks into his mouth, fingernails dig into his neck. 

“Push it in.”

Fuck.

His eyes fly open, a string of spit attaching their lips, Jimin’s gaze on his own, and then, slowly, he pushes a little harder, until Jimin’s rim gives and the head pops past it, sucked in by that tight heat.

“A—ahhh—“

“Fuck—“

Jimin hisses, other arm curling around his neck too, pulling him close. 

He pants— breaths ragged, eyes wild. 

Nothing could have ever prepared him for how fucking amazing it feels— Jimin’s body wrapping around him, heat enveloping his cock, slanted eyes on his own.

A warmth tugs on his chest, and all he wants is to sink into Jimin over and over and over again.

He mouths at Jimin’s lips, pushes in deeper, deeper, until he finally is all the way in.

His cock throbs inside of Jimin— and he needs to keep still. Can’t move a single muscle or he’ll reach his climax way too soon. 

Jimin pants underneath him, can’t even kiss back. 

He pulls back, sees Jimin’s flushed face, his blurry eyes, and it all just falls into place. 

This is everything he’s ever wanted. 

No one-night-stand’s or past relationships have ever ever felt like this. 

One second ago he asked for a hug and then it all just finally clicked— this is what he’s been missing. 

This connection. 

His heart thumps against his chest, and he caresses Jimin’s nose with his own, pecks his lips until Jimin kisses back.

The tempo is a little slower, Jimin’s lips drag against his, hot, wet, tongue sliding into his mouth, already familiar.

“Mmh.”

He moans, caresses a hand down Jimin’s arm until he finds his hand, fits his fingers in the space between Jimin’s, holds it down against the stretcher.

He breaks the kiss then, looks down just to see where their bodies connect, can’t help but move just to see it— the slide of his cock into Jimin’s hole.

“Fffuck—“ Jimin curses, squeezes his hand. “Jeongguk-ah.”

“Mmh?”

He looks back up, focuses on Jimin’s expression when he pulls out a little, and sinks back inside.

Jimin’s eyes shake a little, breath staggers.

“Good?” He asks, wants to be sweet but he remembers their texts from yesterday and it just slips out. “Big enough?”

“Mmmh—“ Jimin moans, nods. “So good— so big.”

Jeongguk shudders, goes for another kiss, bites on Jimin’s lower lip. Their dog tags clash together.

“You feel so good inside.” He whispers, can barely believe it himself. “So warm and wet.”

Jimin gasps, eyes fluttering shut as he searches for his mouth again. 

They just can’t stop kissing. 

it’s completely insane— like they’re making up for lost time. Hot breaths, soft moans and the wet click of their lips slotting together until Jimin squirms underneath him, body begging for more.

“Fuck me— please.”

As if he’d say no at this point.

The initial thrust is soft, experimental, in case it’s still too painful, but when Jimin gives a nod he bites his lower lip and rolls his hips, thrusts in deeper.

“O—oh fuck.”

“Nngh—“

Finally.

He looks into Jimin’s eyes, feels his heart clench when he sees nothing but sheer and utter surrender.

And then it’s all just— hot, intimate. 

Their lips connect and their bodies do all the work. His hips roll against Jimin’s, his cock sinks into him deep, his balls slap against his skin. The sound fills the tent, gradually picking up.

“Mmh— fuck— Jeongguk—“

Jimin groans, slips one of his hands between their bodies to wrap around his cock, standing hard against his stomach.

Jeongguk watches it just like he watched this afternoon, Jimin’s cock flushed near the head, already wet, leaking pearly drops of precum onto his stomach.

“Mmh—“

He licks his lips, bites his lower lip as Jimin strokes his cock at the same pace he thrusts into him. Sweat prickles on his back, Jimin’s body is wrapped in a cold light that almost resembles the moon.

He looks up, finds Jimin’s eyes closed, lips parted, moans spilling from his mouth.

He needs to be closer.

He leans down, wraps his teeth around Jimin’s dog tag, pulls on it until Jimin’s eyes flutter open, that hazy look.

The corner of his mouth curls up a little, he can’t explain why— it’s just so fucking good. So perfect. They fit together so well. He squeezes Jimin’s hand once more, then lets go.

Jimin immediately cups his jaw, runs his hand down his neck, to his chest.

“Mmh.. Jeongguk-ah..”

“Mm?”

He pants, picks up the pace a little, the feeling of Jimin clenching around him sends tingles through his body, heat accumulating in his gut.

Jimin tips his head back and gasps, squeezes his pec.

“Ahh— so fucking good.”

“Mmh.” He tingles with praise, lets Jimin’s dog tag drop from his mouth and nudges his nose, steals another kiss. “Should have— should have fucked before.” 

“Nngh—“ Jimin nods, looks up at him, eyes a little starry. “Yeah—“

“Back when— back in—“

“Yeah—“ Jimin nods. “Before.”

Yeah, so much earlier, could have fucked Jimin in the comfort of his own home, not on this stretcher in winter in the military. 

He sinks back into Jimin, searches for the heat of his mouth, lips crashing together. 

Jimin squeezes the back of his neck, curls one of his legs around his hip and digs his heel into him.

“Harder— fuck me—“

God fuck.

He moans, feels heat pooling in his gut when he pulls out and thrusts back in all at once, ramming his cock into Jimin— making his body rock with every snap of his hips.

“Ah— yes— ah fuck—“ 

Jimin tangles his hand in his hair, chest flushed, face sweaty, other hand working his cock faster, wet rhythmic sound filling the space between them.

So much for being quiet.

He isn’t capable of quiet when he rams into Jimin, moans fall from his lips unfiltered, ragged breaths, he hopes the sound doesn’t carry, his balls slapping against Jimin’s ass, the squelch of him thrusting in.

“Fuck—“ 

“Mmh so close— I’m so close.”

Fuck.

“Saw you— saw you under the shower.” He pants, licks of Jimin’s lower lip. “So fucking hot.”

“Mmh—“ Jimin opens his mouth for him, lets him do anything, lets him lick into his mouth, body just giving in.

“Nngh—“ He sees stars each time their hips snap together, finds Jimin’s eyes in the midst of it. “Hyung..”

“A—ahh— fuck, say it again—“

“Hyung—“

Jimin’s eyes roll back, head tilting back, body going completely taut. Jeongguk feels it, Jimin’s hole clenches around his cock so tight, fireworks explode in his mind— and when he looks down and sees cum shooting over Jimin’s stomach and chest he just loses it—

He groans, nothing but ragged breaths falling from his lips as he fucks Jimin harder— even tighter with how Jimin is clenching around him, difficult to push into but fuck— that makes it even better.

“A—ahh— Jeongguk— fuck— too much—“

“Mmh— almost— almost—“

He promises, thrusts into Jimin hard, deep, and then buries himself to the hilt— orgasm thundering through his body. 

“Ahh— fuck, ahh Jimin—“ He finds his lips in the midst of it, pleasure spreading through every fibre of his body as he comes.

Jimin digs his heel into his back, pushes him in deeper, as if he wants his cum deep inside, clenches around him so good.

“Mmh—“ He moans, can barely move but he loves the heat of Jimin’s mouth, loves the slide of their tongues, the softness of Jimin’s lips, used and raw. 

“Mmmh—“ Jimin tilts his head a bit, keeps him close, wraps both his arms around his back.

He rides out his orgasm with slow, deep thrusts, until his cock softens little by little. His body prickles with sweat, heart thumps in his throat as he blinks his eyes open just a bit.

Jimin’s eyes open a second after, like he feels his gaze, stares back at him as they break the kiss.

They both pant softly, breath mingling.

What can he even say?

No words could even describe the way he feels, everything is warm— everything feels right. He rolls onto his side, cock slipping out, curls an arm around Jimin’s lower back and drags him close, until their chests press together.

Jimin’s heart hammers, Jeongguk feels it against his own.

He’s catching his breath, looking at Jimin to see if he feels the same— not that he knows what to call it, but he’s sure he can recognise it in the glint of those slanted eyes.

No words needed— nothing can do it justice.

So he swallows every question, every remark, and just reconnects their lips.

Nothing but the slow drag of their mouths against each other, Jimin’s hand tangling in his hair, and the soft, sweet moans in between.