Yoomin smut

Choke

Written by SarahBear1013

Summary

Yoongi hires Jimin. Kinky fuckery ensues.

Text work

Jimin smiles as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. His newly dyed silver hair is styled and parted to perfection, he's wearing just enough smoky eyeshadow to draw the right amount of attention to his dark chocolate eyes, and he's blotted just the slightest bit of strawberry gloss on his plump lips to make them look inviting. He's never worn makeup before, and he's pleasantly surprised that he's managed to make himself look this good.

His eyes travel down his own face, to his prominent collarbones that are just peeking out from the edges of the white button-down shirt he's wearing. The slightly tarnished silver choker around his neck is one he'd gotten as a gift years ago, and a smile graces his lips as his small fingers touch the cool metal. He moves his fingers to unbutton one more button on his shirt, letting the valley between his lightly tanned pectorals be shown.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, his quiet voice sounding almost loud in the otherwise empty room. His shirt is slightly sheer, and his hands move downwards to buckle his belt, taking care to keep the hem of his tucked-in shirt free from it. The black leather pants he's chosen to wear hug his supple ass and thighs just right, the muscles he's gotten from years of dance training being outlined perfectly by the material. Yes, Jimin looks completely and utterly fuckable. There's just one thing missing, or rather, one person missing: Someone to fuck him.

Luckily, that will be remedied soon. He's getting ready to meet his latest client, an incredibly handsome (or so he's heard), incredibly rich CEO named Min Yoongi. The two had spoken on the phone once, as is custom where Jimin works, and he has no idea what the older man looks like. From the sound of his voice, all he can guess is that his client is extremely handsome. As he puts on his black blazer that's studded with crystals along the sleeves, the anticipation builds. A ten-minute drive brings him to his client's house, which is a large three-story mansion, something to be expected of such a high-profile man. Jimin takes a deep breath before ringing the door bell and is greeted mere seconds later by a tall, older man with graying hair and a kind smile.

“Welcome, Jimin, I assume?” The silver-haired man nods. “Right. Please follow me.” He motions to the small rug by the door so Jimin can kick off his shoes, leaving him in his black socks. He's a bit nervous as he follows the man through the house and up a flight of stairs, drinking in the sight of the lavish furnishings, art, and decorations that tastefully fill the large space. He's led down a hallway, passing by a few closed doors before he's brought to a set of double doors at the end of it. The man walks away without another word, and Jimin is left to hesitantly knock on one of the doors.

When the doors open, Jimin's breath is taken away. In front of him stands a man more handsome than he ever thought possible. He's about Jimin's height, he has midnight black hair that's lazily brushed back from his forehead and lightly mussed, his skin is pale, and his thin lips sit in a half smirk under coffee-colored eyes that seem to peer into Jimin's soul. He's wearing black slacks and a red silk button-down shirt, which is halfway unbuttoned. His head tilts to the side. “Hello, Jimin.”

“H-hi, Mr. Min.” Jimin takes a deep breath before mentally shaking off his nerves and taking a step closer to Yoongi. “I'm yours for the entire evening.” A small smile plays on his lips, and he sees the older's eyes flicker down to his mouth. Perfect.