The Missing Piece

Chapter 23

When Namjoon had had fantasies about sex in the past, they had been varied and exciting. He found it difficult to think about himself, so any time he was having sex, he'd either been completely focused on the experience of his partner, or filling his mind with an array of beautiful people. Sometimes they were real, sometimes imagined. Usually just women. Lots and lots of women. Usually faceless, just doing unspeakable things to and with each other.

When he was on his own, sometimes he'd imagine what it would be like to have sex with someone who he loved. It has been years, and he'd been just a teenager, on the precipice of fame the last time he shared a bed with anyone he cared about. Everyone said with a soulmate it was different. That the connection between your bodies and your minds changed the game forever. Sex before was dull, lifeless, a mere transaction compared to the euphoria you drowned in with your mate.

He had imagined the care he would take, the reverence he would give, the endless exploration which would only ever lead to dual pleasure.

All of this rose up in his mind, like an annoying memento, as he desperately tried to bring himself to some kind of climax for both his and Jungkook's sake.

To give Jungkook credit, he was doing everything he could do to help Namjoon out, but the truth was that it wasn't working. Almost through sheer force, Namjoon had brought his partner to orgasm nearly twenty minutes ago. For his monumental efforts they had been rewarded with a small bark of relief from Jungkook as he spilled onto his own stomach and then collapsed back onto the bed. Now Namjoon was trying everything he could think of to spike his own pleasure, but it wasn't working.

"Hyung." Jungkook mumbled, looking back from the pillow Namjoon had placed him on as a position change tactic. Namjoon didn't know if he was asking him a question or begging for mercy at this point, but he continued all the same.

Since bonding with Jungkook, Namjoon hadn't had to conjure up a single image of anyone other than his beautiful boy to be able to orgasm. Jungkook was more than enough for him. He was everything. But just recently, their frequency of love-making had decreased. And what there was of it was getting less and less enjoyable. In all honestly, he was starting to find it a little stressful. This wasn't the first time he'd had trouble coming. Nor the first time for Jungkook either.

He rolled Jungkook over again, onto his back, pulling out completely and pressing their mouths together in a desperate kiss. He loved kissing his soulmate. Up close he could smell him and taste him and feel their bodies pressed together. He swiftly pushed back in, and despite their marathon performance so far, his impressive girth still shocked Jungkook.

"Fuck. Fuck!" Jungkook growled out. Namjoon would like to imagine that he was hearing pleasure, but at this point it sounded a little more like frustration.

In desperation, Namjoon started to drag up in his mind those fantasies he always found the most erotic; the ones which always turned him on enough to come. Even when he was drunk or tired, they had never failed him. Women, in his head for the first time in months, moving over each other in sensual twists. Their long shiny hair, their swaying breasts, their soft curves. They licked each other, sucked on each other's nipples, and moaned with high feminine voices.

Then Narae. Suddenly, she took on the staring role of this little film he was playing in his head. A face for him to imagine, a beautiful face, one he knew so well, and liked better than any other woman's in the world. He hadn't meant to imagine her, but all the same, his dick twitched in Jungkook, as though waking up for the first time in half an hour.

A sudden flush of guilt made him cast the vision aside. Disgusted that he'd let his mind wander from Jungkook at all, let alone to such forbidden waters, he opened his eyes and forced himself to look down into his soulmate's face. He saw Jungkook's expression screwed up in concentration, but absolutely no pleasure at all.