HELLO, DARLING | JIKOOK ✔

10 || WHAT DOES IT TAKE

It's been hell, waiting for the stinging, red risen skin to recuperate and settle. But Jimin has managed and it's been a few days now since he's been in the playroom. Jeongguk somehow remains distant, but close just the same. He's here, at the house one second, and the next he's gone. Jimin supposes he has work he needs to do, but being told ahead of time would be nice.

Jimin is standing in the kitchen, hovering next to the marble counter with a glass of water in his hand. He's staring ahead at the wall, mulling and reminiscing. He goes to take a sip, but suddenly there's a body pressed gingerly against his backside and there are soft lips outlining the curvature of his neck. He gasps softly and places his glass down. He tilts his head to the side, baring more surface of skin.

"You smell sweet, Jimin," Jeongguk proclaims quietly, teasing the ravenette's hips with his fingers.

Jimin hums quietly. He pivots on his heel and he's lifted onto the counter, legs parting of their own accord. Jeongguk slots himself right between the submissive's thighs, placing his hands on either side of him, leaning forward on his arms. Their faces are centimeters apart, lips practically touching.

"How old are you, Jeongguk?" Jimin whispers while molding his fingers within the man's blond locks.

Jeongguk pulls away slightly as he looks at him, brow lifted. "Why do you ask?"

Jimin pulls on his bottom lip and his fingers move down the blond's nape to settle beneath his hair and over warm skin. He blinks at the man coyly. "Because even though you're experienced like this, you seem younger than me. I don't know what it is," he mumbles.

Something has shifted within Jeongguk. Jimin isn't quite sure what it is exactly, but as a hand is placed over his length, palming gently, his question is answered. Gulping down a sharp intake of breath, his forehead lands along the man's shoulder.

"...And by experienced... you mean this, right?" Jeongguk's voice is configured purely of lust and rasp. The heel of his palm presses down more firm, eliciting another delicate whine from Jimin's pretty lips. "...I'm twenty-three, Darling."

Yet another dulcet moan sounds in Jimin's throat. His fingers roam the muscular plain of Jeongguk's back, searching for purchase within the anchor of his silky black dress shirt. His hips move in but a whisper, desperately seeking heightened friction. "I'm t-twenty-five... I'm your Hyung," he states breathlessly.

There's a low chuckle dancing over Jimin's ear and along his red cheek. "...Is that so? Well... you love it when I put you down a little, don't you, Jimin? I have yet to spread you over my bedsheets and claim every inch of your sweet skin. To fuck you hard and make you moan my name: Master. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You needy little thing. You may be my Hyung, but you're also my submissive." Jimin is a mere puddle in Jeongguk's hands, obeying every command ladening his body. He's defenseless, wrapped tightly around his finger.

"W-what does it take?" Jimin stutters breathlessly, sinking his fingertips deeper into the man's dress shirt. "For y-you to fuck me... Master... I'm trying to be p-patient," he mouths against his shoulder helplessly.

Jeongguk's lips lift at the edge. His hand stops moving over Jimin's crotch and he lifts it to tilt the latter's head up until their eyes meet. Already, the ravenette looks totally fucked out. His hair is disheveled and his face is flushed with arousal. His eyes are lidded and ample lips are fuller, embellished with an intimate shade of rouge. He looks as though a palpable, tall glass of Merlot wine.

"What does it take?" Jeongguk reiterates with mirth while his eyes propel to Jimin's mouth. He pushes his thumb over his tempting bottom lip. "...It takes you being a good boy who listens to Master," he whispers huskily and moves in closer, dragging his tongue over Jimin's lips. The ravenette writhes, moaning softly as the dominant's hand falls over his hard cock once again.