The bed was soft beneath his weight, and he sighed as he arched his back, pushing himself up the expanse until his head could rest against the actual singular pillow.
Honestly he had half been expecting to find a rolled up towel.
But it was difficult to care about things like a lack of pillows when there was a man like Jungkook currently hovering over him. All tanned, beautiful skin that practically glistened in the moonlight - and he took the time to try and remember when he had lost his shirt. Probably somewhere in the living room, because he could remember pulling it off. Just not where he had actually dropped it.
It was gone though, which meant that there was so much for his hands to explore. Inches of smooth skin and hard muscle and he was pretty sure he had died and this was just what his own personal heaven looked like.
"Not the -!" But he was too late, because those lips had already attached to his throat and he was completely certain there was going to be a very large bruise there come morning.
"Whoops." He didn't even sound the least bit sorry. Especially considering all he did was move down a single inch before actually biting so hard he left an imprint of his teeth behind.
"What am I going to do with you?" There were long fingers slowly undoing each button of his shirt and kisses being trailed along behind, a long, wet road that led directly downwards. Over his chest where his heart was pounding against his ribs and down over his soft stomach where the fire burned so bright.
"Love me." It was nothing more than a whisper, and he made the mistake of glancing down then. Of seeing those beautiful, round eyes staring back up at him and suddenly he forgot what they were even doing.
Because above all else, he knew the one thing Jungkook wanted more than anything.
Jungkook wanted to be loved.
Had the words etched into his skin in bleak, dark ink.
Please love me.
"I already do." It was so easy to love Jungkook. To fall in love with him. Everyone always did.
But none of them knew the other the way Seokjin did. None of them had ever created the bond they had. Even before all of this. Before feelings had changed and grown. They had always been different. Had always been special to one another.
Seokjin had always loved Jungkook.
And he always would.
"I love you too." It was nothing more than a whisper. Like they both knew how those words meant something different now. How they were about to change everything and nothing at all.
They would always be them.
...
He was so full.
Jungkook was inside of him and he was so full. A pleasant stretch and burn and he'd thought he'd been ready but nothing could ever have prepared him for this.
Because apparently it was different when you loved the person who was being allowed inside of you.
Apparently it was different when you were in love with them.
The more you know.
There were lips pressing against his throat and he honestly no longer cared how many bruises he was going to be carrying. He would find some way to cover them up. Or the poor make up artist would. They always came through.
Those hips were moving and they were just as powerful as he always thought they would be. Could remember how he'd always had to try and stop himself from staring every single time they were on stage. But it was so difficult when Jungkook would actually seek him out and do it directly in his line of sight.
Thankfully he was just as flexible as he always seemed to be. Because his legs had fallen apart the moment his clothes had come off, only to wrap so tight and so high around that narrow waist he was nearly bent in half.
But even that didn't matter as much as the fact that he was so full. That the blunt tip of that beautiful cock was pressing against that bundle of nerves inside him with each thrust. That there were words he didn't understand being whispered into his ear and part of him wanted to slow everything down so he could hear them properly.
And the rest of him knew that was ridiculous because he didn't think a hurricane landing directly upon them would make Jungkook stop now.
There was no way he was going to be able to properly walk the next day. There just wasn't. And resigned himself to a life of constantly limping. He would find a way to explain it away.
It was worth it.
...
"You know you're not actually a bunny, right?" When his foolish self had been imagining sex with Jungkook, he had been aware that it would probably consist of a few things.
Him needed some kind of walking device the next day, because those hips did not lie. And if he put that much power behind them on stage, he did not want to see what they were capable of in bed.
Actually that was the lie. He wanted to see that so much.
And now he was.
Second literally everyone one earth was aware of Jungkook's stamina. It was legendary among them. The only one who could box four rounds in the dressing room, go perform an entire concert and then run around like nothing happened after.
Apparently that meant he could also go four rounds in bed. Back to back.
He'd lost track of how many times he had come. Only that the last three times had been completely dry because apparently there was just no fluid left inside him.
"Feeling a little tired, baby?" Yes, as a matter of fact, he was feeling tired. But he was on his knees and his hips were in the air and his fucked out hole was being presented for whatever Jungkook had planned for them next.
That he was resting with his arms crossed on the bed and his head twisted so he could make a pillow out of them was neither here nor there.
"Aren't you?" How long had it even been? Glancing over granted him no answers, and he realized that the other didn't even appear to have a clock anywhere in his entire bedroom.
God he was going to have to get this boy some decorating help.
Or just do it himself. Or just have them move in to the same place. That sounded good.
"Not even close." And suddenly he understood why everyone had feared so much for his ass.
