yin
- find central nervous system
This—This must be—normal, right? With the way that the younger man is kneeling so calmly, clearly used to the treatment. No one else in the room has given any indication that Jinsoul's behavior is strange in any way, though Hoseok's skin is burning as if all eyes are on them all the same.
His hands are on his belt before he realizes what he's doing—but it's far too late to take any of this back now, not with the young woman, his new sister, standing over his shoulder with her arms crossed, watching him expectantly. They are always watching. Hoseok wants to puke.
"Go on," she says when he hesitates a moment too long, and his zipper is undone and his cock pulled free of his pants before he can think better of it. He feels a small hand at his back once more, pushing him forward even as she says, "Or—wait, do you want to have him some other way? Everyone's got a preference—"
"Um, I don't—"
"Okay, hold on, just a second," she instructs, and for a moment she disappears from his side to move to the cabinet they had passed by before. It takes a few moments of rummaging for her to find what she is looking for, long enough that Hoseok has to tear his eyes away from Jimin or run the risk of trying to make awkward conversation with the younger man to try to break the tension.
When she returns, Jinsoul holds out a surprising object to him—a short plastic tube that seems to be attached to some sort of funnel, looking more like something he would find in a kitchen, or—or a science lab than he would a teacher's lounge. But its use becomes immediately clear when she lightly kicks a foot out to Jimin, prodding him up onto his knees.
"Roll over," she instructs, and the janitor doesn't hesitate for even a second before shifting onto all fours and moving his body in a circle so that his ass is facing them instead. Jimin bends at the waist, laying his forehead against the floor, his arms hanging limply at his sides while the position drives his bare ass up in the air—and Hoseok catches sight of the dark plug that has been wedged between the man's plush cheeks.
"Hold this, will you?" She asks Hoseok, thrusting the tube and funnel into his hands so she can lean down over Jimin's exposed ass, and Hoseok fumbles to catch the device while he watches, wide-eyed, as she immediately reaches for the plug and doesn't hesitate for even a moment before working it free of the man's clenching hole. Hoseok is even more surprised when, unexpectedly, only part of the plug comes free—a thin portion that slides out of the center and leaves an outer ring of the plug still held tight in Jimin's hole, leaving him permanently gaping open for—Hoseok can only assume—easier access.
"Keep your ass up," she instructs Jimin, who doesn't so much as move to acknowledge her, then reaches out a hand to take the funnel back. Hoseok nearly drops it as he offers it back to her and watches in amazement as she affixes the end of the tube right into the waiting hole with practiced ease. Jimin finally shows some sign of reaction, the tiniest whimper catching Hoseok's hearing when Jinsoul slides the tube firmly into place at last.
"Alright, that should do it," she says as she gets back to her feet, wiping her hands on her skirt as she moves. She sets the inner piece of the plug aside on a nearby table before returning to Hoseok's side and she tuts disapprovingly when he doesn't so much as move a muscle towards Jimin. Her hands find his hips again and impatiently guide him until he has no choice but to step forward, toes brushing against Jimin's feet, and the janitor immediately responds by straightening his back and propping his ass up higher as if on instinct.
In the end, it's easier than it seems to make the final move and slip the head of his cock into the waiting mouth of the funnel. The familiar position, with a beautiful person bent over in front of him isn't exactly shocking at this point, no—but the way that Jimin's head tilts to the side and his eyes fly open to stare up at Hoseok the moment he does so certainly is.
Jimin stares up at him blankly, almost unseeingly, hands frozen at his sides while he waits for Hoseok to get started. This is just another day for the janitor, Hoseok realizes, and that thought makes his stomach turn more than anything else. He can see the way the younger man's stomach bulges out slightly towards the floor, what can only be the result of countless other people doing to Jimin exactly what Hoseok is being directed to do—using him as nothing more than a urinal. It has to be uncomfortable, Hoseok thinks, having one's stomach distended like that—how does Jimin stand it? How much of the day does he spend literally walking around filled with someone else's piss, with the ache and the stretch of it pushing at his belly—?
Jinsoul, growing impatient as Hoseok gets lost in his reverie, pinches at Hoseok's side and snaps at him, "Hey, don't be shy—this is all he's good for anymore." And more than anything else, her words finally shock him into action, his abdomen giving one last terrible clench before he finally relaxes and feels the first of his piss drip free.
It's impossible to hold back once the stream has started, and it's all he can do to drop his hands to grip Jimin's hip, just as his new sister had gripped the man's hair moments before, and hold himself steady as he watches the golden liquid of his piss fill the funnel and begin slipping down the length of the tube where it disappears into Jimin's waiting body. The janitor's body swallows it all down easy as breathing.
"I—I'm sorry—" Hoseok finds himself whispering, though at this point, what difference would it make? Jimin doesn't say anything, of course, but the look in the janitor's dark eyes over his shoulder at Hoseok seems to say 'you should be.'
And as Hoseok finds himself taken over by the myriad of sensations, the hot rush of his piss and the sight of Jimin's hole fluttering beneath him—finds himself growing harder by the second against the cool metal of the device in his hand. Their eyes barely move from one another for a single second, Jimin unabashedly staring him down, not a hint of shame on the younger man's face as Hoseok just uses him just as he's been instructed to.
There is a rush of sound around them, the room full and buzzing with energy, but all Hoseok can hear is the heavy thrum of his own heartbeat and the soft rush of Jimin's breath against the hard floor beneath him. The moment draws out into what seems to be an eternity, the seconds ticking by impossibly slow as Hoseok empties his body into the younger man. Even more impossible still is the suddenly endless stream of his own piss, as though he's been storing it up for just this exact moment—and Jimin never breaks eye contact, never looks away even for a moment as his body opens up and accepts every — last — drop.
