Archive of Our Own ^beta

[moodboard by andy]

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It starts on the first day of December like a neighborly Advent calendar.

It could be argued that it’s technically not the first day of December, but it’s two in the morning so it definitely counts, and Jimin has only four more hours of precious, glorious sleep left when he’s awoken by the melodious sounds of disjointed moaning.

“Ah, ah… oh-h-h-h…”

Jimin shifts in the tangle of blankets keeping him warm in the midst of a cold Korean winter, wondering if this is the same as an excitable child hearing reindeer prancing on the rooftop or if he’s having an embarrassing wet dream, but he props up on one elbow and turns toward the wall that his bedroom shares with the apartment next door. He squints in the darkness as if that will improve his hearing, but the regret that fills him is instantaneous.

“No fucking way,” he grumbles in his half-sleeping state, fist pressed into the mattress as he listens. A gasp, another moan, the sound of a bed frame squeaking, the consistent rhythmic movement. Jimin is now an unwilling eavesdropper on his neighbor’s two AM sexual encounter.

“Shut u-u-u-up,” he groans, flopping over and turning his back to the wall. It does absolutely nothing to muffle the sound; in fact, the position only amplifies everything, because now he’s using just one ear to soak up all the depravity. Disoriented still, Jimin reaches over and grabs his phone off the charger to check the time, messy blonde hair falling into his half-open eyes—2:03 AM. His alarm is set for 6:15 AM, and the woman on the other side of the wall is now agreeing fervently with whoever is fucking her, and also providing directions such as “There!” with great enthusiasm. 

It kind of reminds Jimin of the frantic and swelling nature of “Carol of the Bells,” or maybe he’s just delirious and trying to crack a holiday joke so he doesn’t punch a hole through the wall. A few more moans later and with one final grunt of pleasure clearly from a male voice, Jimin hears a satisfied sigh, and the bed stops creaking and hitting the wall. This guy’s definitely not getting his security bond back, Jimin thinks to himself as he collapses further into his pillows, relishing the silence. Not that he even knows the guy next door. Jimin has a new neighbor, so it could be anyone. Maybe it’s actually the woman who just moved in over the weekend. He’s clueless.

He can hear two voices speaking softly, but there’s no more bed-shaking sex—at least, Jimin assumes there isn’t, because he drifts off to sleep and wakes up to his alarm chirping merrily at him.

“Nope. No,” he scolds himself in a hoarse voice as he rolls to a seated position, palms pressed into the mattress as he glances down at his lap. “No,” he croaks again as if his hard-on is going to obediently shrivel up and allow Jimin to go about his business. Whether it decides to listen or not, Jimin gets up anyway, ignoring it to the best of his ability as he washes up and brushes his teeth and gets ready for his workday, including a shower that’s a bit colder than it should be.

[mood: “last christmas” by wham!”]

When Jimin steps into the hallway of the eleventh floor of his luxury apartment building, he steals a glance at apartment 1103 next door. He’s not sure what he’s expecting other than a closed door, but that’s exactly what he gets. He was away most of last weekend in Busan for his grandmother’s birthday, and when he returned, there was a Harley Davidson motorcycle parked in the basement garage in the 1103 spot next to Jimin’s Mercedes Maybach S-Class—his only real splurge from years of saving money and being quietly frugal. Now he has a biker parked next to him who likes to fuck at two in the morning.

Jimin’s luxury car sits in the garage on workdays, though, because public transportation is a saving grace in a busy city like Seoul. So he hops onto the 2 Line like clockwork, yawning, trying not to think about the fact that his new neighbor was getting laid last night and Jimin hasn’t been laid in five months. Five months is a blip of time in pharmacist years, though. As if Jimin has time to galavant around Itaewon and its neighboring pockets in search of some good dick. He’s 29-years-old and tired. The good dick can come to him or knock on his door or something. 

Becoming a pharmacist wasn’t a walk in the park, but it was an in-demand job (still is), and it provided financial security. He completed all his schooling. He has his doctorate. And now he gets to spend his days as the pharmacist in charge at one of the busiest little pharmacies in Gangnam-gu, and it’s deathly boring.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet,” Jimin says gently to an elderly man who’s loitering outside the pharmacy.

“I know that! I’m waiting for you to open so I can get my damn prescription,” the man snaps behind his face mask, shaking the little bag in his hand. Jimin is so used to being berated by patients that he just smiles and nods like the interaction is pleasant for him, and then he unlocks the door of the pharmacy and slips inside, making a point of locking and dead-bolting the door while staring through the glass at the old man.

Once inside, his white coat goes on, followed by a face mask. He fires up the printer and begins to take care of the first few scripts that have been sent over, and then he’s on the phone. Almost all day. It’s non-stop.

Jimin works with usually only one or two other pharmacists at any given time, but sometimes, it’s just him. It’s a small little pharmacy but it’s so busy that Jimin usually eats his lunch on the go, if he even eats at all. He washes his hands 100 times a day, fields phone calls from patients and hospitals and doctors alike, exchanges secret handshakes with his favorite delivery men, and then stocks the shelves whenever there’s a lull after checking that the stock arrived safely. He orders medication that’s running low that patients might need. He wipes dust off the shelves that need extra attention. And then, like clockwork, he’s closing up shop for the day at eight on the dot after a twelve-hour shift alone, because Fridays are a solo day for him and he doesn’t have to work weekends when he works doubles nearly every weekday.

His phone rings while he’s walking to the station.

“Yes, hello?” he answers, slipping past a few people in the darkness of winter before the fluorescent lights of the station magnify his exhaustion.

“Come to the noraebang with us tonight.”

Jimin descends the stairs into Gangnam Station. “I just had to tell five different people today that we don’t have Theraflu. What is there to sing about?”

“‘Fever’ by ENHYPEN,” Kim Taehyung says on the other line, and Jimin snorts, fumbling for his wallet and his T-Money card. “What, you don’t want to come out tonight? We’ll go get meat afterwards. You can come then if you don’t want to serenade me. Eleven o’clock at our favorite place.”

“I’m taking a quick nap first,” Jimin bargains.

“Oh, that’s totally fine. Hyung’s snoring right now. Long day. I have to wake him up,” Taehyung replies, referring to Jung Hoseok, his boyfriend of three years and an overworked dental assistant who doubles as one of Jimin’s best friends. “So skip the noraebang and just come eat and drink with us. Please?”

“Alright, alright,” Jimin sighs with a small smile as he finds the platform he needs. “Did I tell you that I finally kind of met my new next door neighbor?”

“Is this the one who has a Harley?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Did you meet them in person? Awkward hallway encounter?”

“No, but I heard said neighbor fucking the life out of some woman last night,” Jimin complains, and Taehyung’s laughter is the best kind of medicine. He and Taehyung have been friends since high school, so Jimin has had time to classify all of Taehyung’s different laughs. When the laugh is more high-pitched, it means he’s truly amused, like now.

“Oh no, do you share a bedroom wall?” he asks.

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, if the sex is any good, then it’s basically like free amateur porn. You can jerk off to that, you know,” Taehyung says like he’s providing insightful information for Jimin to use, and Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, because that’s exactly what I want to do,” Jimin replies in monotone. “I want to shove a lubed dildo up my ass to the rhythm of my faceless neighbor fucking someone who’s also faceless.” He pauses and glances to his right just in time to see three women around his age give him a look of pure disgust. Jimin deserves it at this point.

“That’s what self-inserting is all about,” Taehyung says with laughter in his voice. “Figuratively and literally speaking. Anyway, I’ll text you when we’re on our way to eat. Come with an empty stomach. Also, can you wake hyung up? I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Christ,” Jimin grumbles to himself, fighting a smile. “Sure. Bring me to him.”

Jimin hears the shuffle of Taehyung’s footsteps, and then there’s silence. Jimin figures that’s his cue.

“Hyung! Jung Hoseok! Hyung, I have three cavities! My teeth are rotting! They’re falling out! I need a root canal! Wake up!” Jimin shouts as best as he can without drawing too much attention to himself. He immediately hears a loud snort and a groan, and then Taehyung laughs and brings the phone back to his own ear.

“Didn’t think that would wake him up, but when I forgot to floss last night before bed, he straddled me with floss in his hands and threatened to withhold sex until I did it,” Taehyung explains, and in the background, Jimin can hear Hoseok complaining.

“I don’t want to hear a word about your sexual escapades,” Jimin says as the pleasant and familiar music plays overhead to signify the arrival of the subway.

“Jimin, for Christmas, I’m going to gift you some good dick. Genuinely don’t know how, but I’ll find a way,” Taehyung teases. “How was work? Should probably ask the polite questions before I let you go.”

“Thank fuck it’s the weekend,” Jimin replies with a chuckle. “The second I get home, I don’t want to be disturbed by anyone or anything for two straight days. Except for this dinner. Food is the only decent reason to leave the house.”

“Well, if it’s the weekend, then that means your neighbor will probably have a one-night stand or something,” Taehyung guesses, and Jimin steps onto the subway and curls into his phone so he doesn’t disturb anyone else on the 2 Line.

“What you should be doing is praying for my sanity if I have to hear that shit again,” he murmurs. “I’m on the subway now. See you later.”

“See you.”

The first thing that Jimin does when he gets home after a short subway ride is pour himself a glass of wine, because he deserves it. He doesn’t really want the rowdy atmosphere of chugging beer at a noraebang, so he sips his chardonnay and heats up his leftovers on the stove, turning on his favorite show at the moment. By nature, Jimin is an extrovert and loves connecting with new people, and he isn’t one to hold back with both friends and strangers. But there are some nights when his battery is drained and needs a quick recharge. This is one of those nights. He's going to skip the nap on principle.

The urge to slip into pajamas is strong around ten o’clock, but luckily, Taehyung calls earlier than eleven o’clock and tells Jimin to come meet them. His stomach growling for a second dinner, Jimin makes the executive decision to take the subway again to meet his two best friends, putting on normal clothes and forgoing the ugly Christmas sweater. Too soon.  

“IT’S JIMI-I-I-I-IN!” 

That’s the first indication that Jimin has to play catch-up. Jung Hoseok leaps out of his chair and swipes the smoke from the barbecue away like that will do any good, and he throws both arms around Jimin and kisses the side of his head in greeting. Hoseok is the kind of guy who gives an immense amount of affection, but if Jimin were to kiss Hoseok’s head in return, Hoseok would look at him like Jimin morphed into an octopus.

“Hey, it’s the weekend!” Hoseok exclaims, pulling up a chair for Jimin and nearly missing his own chair as he sits down. Jimin sits and smacks Taehyung’s thigh in greeting. Taehyung shoves his black-framed glasses up into his honey blonde hair and clicks his chopsticks at Jimin as a threatening greeting before he snatches up a piece of pork belly that’s sizzling on the grill.

“I don’t actually have three cavities,” Jimin promises Hoseok, grabbing his own pair of metal chopsticks.

“Of course you don’t,” Hoseok says cheerfully, ruffling his messy brown hair. “Because if you did, I’d strap you to a chair and make sure they were all taken care of.”

“Who said strap?” Taehyung asks, grabbing his shot glass for more soju. He grabs another shot glass for Jimin and pours some soju for all three of them, so Jimin grabs another piece of cooked meat from the grill. “Cheers, boys.”

“Cheers,” Jimin says as he, Hoseok, and Taehyung meet in the middle with their pork belly pieces before eating and chasing it with soju. The restaurant is bustling because it’s Seoul on a Friday night in December. Everything is merry and bright, and the meat and alcohol are being handed out in bulk, it seems. All of Jimin’s tiredness, along with his need to become a hermit, suddenly vanishes. Instead, he eats and drinks and swats both Hoseok and Taehyung away as they shove the Afterglow app into his face back and forth like a tennis match, showing Jimin profiles of men they think would be a good match for him. 

“Oh, he has a cat. Bad luck. Jimin will sneeze out cum knowing his allergies.”

“That’s disgusting. Look at this guy. He’s ten years older than you, Jimin. DILF vibes.”

“Wait, wait, wait, this guy. Look how symmetrical his face is. Is this AI?”

“Oh my God, this guy is a doctor, he’s perfect—wait, no. He hates spicy food. Swipe left.”

By half past midnight, Jimin is tipsy and giggly and cured of his week-long boredom. He gets back onto the 2 Line and hugs Taehyung and Hoseok goodbye before he gets off and lets them go two more stops. As he walks back to his apartment building, he checks his Afterglow profile to see if his heathen friends actually swiped right on any of the potential matches. They swiped right on nine of them. Nine. They definitely hate Jimin, or they just want him to get his bells jingled before Christmas—an actual comment Taehyung wrote in a chat to one poor guy who found it funny. Jimin deletes that match immediately to spare himself the humiliation.

“No, not now,” Jimin says out loud as he pulls his shirt off, because his phone is chirping with alerts from the app thanks to the swipe-happy couple. He tosses his shirt into his laundry basket, grabs his phone, and silences all notifications. For good measure, he logs out of Afterglow because he wants to actually sleep tonight.

Seoul is always lively, but it’s much more vibrant on weekends, in Jimin’s opinion. He lives in a nice area where it’s usually quiet, but even so, he can hear chatter in the hallways of his building that feels comforting in a strange way. It’s like white noise for him to hear muffled conversations or street sounds when he’s trying to sleep. Tonight, he’ll sleep a full eight hours.

Except it happens again.

This time, Jimin is washing his face before crawling into bed when he hears faint laughter coming from the shared wall near his bed. He pauses with his fingers on his cheekbones, and then he begins to rub the cleanser into his skin in slow motion with his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Silence. Peace. Not a creature was stirring, that kind of vibe. And then—

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Jimin says in exasperation when he hears a dull thud and a soft moan. “You’re fucking joking—”

With water and facial cleanser dripping from his chin, Jimin marches into his bedroom with a towel in one hand and stares at the wall menacingly for no reason. He can hear two voices, and this time, they’re both male. He hears the sound of low laughter, one voice talking, and then a mixture of a sigh and a moan as the bed creaks again. The walls should absolutely not be as thin as they are, but when Jimin leans in, he can hear two people kissing and shifting around on the bed.

“Christ, that’s two nights in a row,” Jimin grumbles, stomping back into the bathroom to rinse his face off and pat it dry. He sticks his toothbrush in his mouth and scrubs his back molars with vigor, pacing around his bedroom while looking for pajamas. Taehyung cursed him by saying that weekends meant inevitable hook-ups, because now Jimin has to listen to another tryst if he wants to sleep, or just watch TV or play music to drown it out. He thinks about calling Taehyung or Hoseok to share the start of the moment with them, but by the time Jimin is pulling his pajama shirt over his head and snagging it on his toothbrush, the hook-up is in full swing.

“Oh-h-h-h… ah! Y-You’re so… you’re…”

With one hand on his hip, Jimin stares, because the second voice is lower and more muffled. The first voice seems to be the pleasure receiver, though, because he’s vocal. He’s letting his partner know that he’s happy, and by process of elimination, Jimin figures that the partner whose voice he can’t make out must be his neighbor with the motorcycle.

Another moan. Slightly higher in pitch. The bed creaks and knocks against the wall. Jimin hears the sound of skin slapping against skin, and he almost chokes on his toothpaste as he stumbles back into the bathroom. This is a sick, sick joke. This is a joke. It has to be an elaborate prank, because in what universe does this actually happen? When do people have excessively horny neighbors like this in real life? When?

As Jimin flicks his bathroom light off, he lets out an audible laugh, dragging his hands down his face and standing in the middle of his bedroom like a Sim without a command. The gasping and panting and moaning is just escalating now. Partner B is moaning in staccato, which just tells Jimin that he’s the one being fucked, given the consistent rhythm. Partner A, his lovely neighbor, isn’t saying a word, and that makes it worse. That just makes Jimin think that his neighbor is an experienced lover who knows how to pull the best out of his partners.

“Oh, God… oh my God… r-right there, right there…”

“Yes, ‘right there,’ good, great,” Jimin mocks under his breath, climbing into bed to spite himself. He’s still slightly tipsy and he’s exhausted. He’s not about to wait it out in the living room for this absurdity to end, because this is his apartment and his bedroom. So he’s going to be petty and lie in bed and scowl at the dark ceiling, rolling his eyes until they’re in the back of his head and he’s asleep.

“Oh, good, they’re not done,” he says out loud when the fucking picks up pace again after a momentary lull. “I was hoping they’d continue, this is lovely. Really good.” He fumbles for his phone in the dark and opens up his group text with Taehyung and Hoseok, because now he has something to say.

JIMIN [1:03AM]
My neighbor is fucking A NEW PERSON

TAE [1:05AM]
NOOOOOOOOOOO ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

HOBI HYUNG [1:05AM]
A new person?!?!?

JIMIN [1:06AM]
One of them is about to orgasm I’m pretty sure

I’m going to lose my mind

This is the second night in a row

Last night it was a woman, this time it’s a man

TAE [1:07AM]
ㅋㅋㅋ I don’t know why I didn’t believe this was real before but damn

Congratulations to your neighbor I guess

HOBI HYUNG [1:07AM]
Is it too early to call him a bisexual king?

Go over there tomorrow and ask to be added to the roster, Jimin ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

JIMIN [1:08AM]
Goodnight, assholes ❤️

Jimin sets his phone back on the charging plate and flops onto his pillow, gathering it up on either side and pressing it against his ears with his fingers laced together over his head. It does very little to muffle the sound of the partner providing ample encouragement for his neighbor to keep going, and then Jimin hears a thud that startles him. The partner has hit the shared wall somehow while letting out a satisfied shout, and Jimin prays that it’s an indicator of a climax. He begs the heavens for a miracle, because it’s been half an hour of this shit.

Maybe my neighbor can’t last that long. He almost giggles to himself. 

Jimin thinks it’s over, but then he hears more bed creaking and some moans that sound like overstimulation. Seems like the partner orgasmed but the neighbor didn’t. Jimin presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, wondering if smacking his head against the shared wall will knock him out for the night, but he doesn’t get much of a chance to consider his options for unconsciousness. 

“Shh, shh… I’ve got you… be good for me…”

Jimin’s eyes shoot open comically fast. 

Be what now? 

This is the first time he’s actually heard his potential (probable) neighbor speak clearly enough to understand, and he’s saying be good for me? In that tone of voice? In this economy?

“No, no, no, no,” Jimin murmurs to himself, rolling over onto his side with his back turned to the bedroom wall. He curls up in a fetal position in an attempt to get comfortable, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking of something boring like stocking the pharmacy shelves. He certainly doesn’t need to hear his neighbor’s voice saying shit like that, nor does he want to think about how being talked through it is one of his personal favorite things a partner can do. If he thinks too loudly, someone might hear him. But Christ, does he love when a man is confident enough to talk him through overstimulation or an orgasm or—

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, flopping onto his back. He hears another drawn out, high-pitched moan, and then the bed stops knocking against the wall. He hears his neighbor let out a gasp, and unfortunately for Jimin, it makes his blood rush south. Not ideal. Definitely not ideal. The only positive thing is that his neighbor seems to be done, and unless they decide to go for round two, Jimin is free. He can hear voices quietly chatting, mixed with soft laughter and footsteps, but that’s fine. Jimin can fall asleep to that.

What he can’t fall asleep to is a hard-on, because Jimin knows that the next time he needs material for jerking off, he’s going to immediately think about being good for his faceless neighbor, and he’s going to want to ram his head into the wall in embarrassment. So to save himself the humiliation, he rolls out of bed and walks straight to the bathroom in the darkness, taking a deep breath.

Just get it over with. You live alone. No one can see. No one knows. Just do it.

He’d like to get off in the comfort of his own bed, but it would be altogether tragic and mortifying if his neighbor heard him. So Jimin resorts to the good, old-fashioned bathroom jerk-off session. 

“Fuck this,” he mutters to himself as he slips one hand into his pajama pants past his underwear. He’s fully hard. Fully hard at half past one in the morning thanks to his horny neighbor. Jimin doesn’t even bother to find a place to sit or lie down. He leans against the wall with his heels digging into the cushy little rug he has, head tilted up because all he can see is the faint glow of the moonlight from his bedroom window leaving streaks on the bathroom ceiling.

Be good for me… be good for me… be good for me…

It’s like a broken record in his mind, and Jimin shamelessly uses it to his benefit. If he uses it now, then he won’t be tempted to use it later, right? So he concocts some kind of image in his mind of what his neighbor looks like based only on his teasing tone in the bedroom. Jimin creates someone exactly his type—a bit taller, fit but not bulky, tattoos, cute smile, long black hair that he can pull. Yeah, that’ll do it. Pair that with the voice he heard and it’s a winner.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps to himself, his knees weakening as his hand speeds up. The pre-come makes it easy, and the sound is lewd and exactly what Jimin needs to complete his vision. He closes his eyes, bottom lip between his teeth, muscles contracting as his toes curl against the rug. He could be good. He could be so good—

Jimin uses his other hand swiftly to catch the cum as the orgasm hits him. He feels it dripping into his palm as the heat in his stomach reaches a boiling point, sizzling as the high washes over him and slowly begins to fade. He slumps against the wall, exhausted and mildly pissed off that he had to even get out of bed for this. Granted, he feels better, so he’ll just have to accept it and do the three-second walk of shame from his bathroom to his bed. The moon is like a spotlight mocking him as he walks back to his bed with clean hands.

“Christ Almighty,” he grumbles as he pulls the blankets up to his chin and rolls over. He can still hear his neighbor chatting with the other man, but thankfully, there’s no more fucking.

At least, not that Jimin can hear. He falls asleep feeling sated only two minutes later.

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“So it doesn’t look like they sent over the prescription yet.”

“They said they did.”

“I understand that, but I don’t have anything here yet,” Jimin says with sympathy to the middle-aged woman standing on the other side of the counter. “How long ago was your appointment?”

“I came straight from the doctor.”

“Ah-h-h, I see. If you’d be willing to wait about fifteen to twenty minutes, I’m sure the doctor will send it over,” he said kindly. “This is Doctor…”

“Dr. Song over at Sunshine Family Medical Practice,” she rattles off, resting one elbow on the countertop in distress. “I don’t have fifteen minutes to wait.”

I’m sure you do. You just don’t want to.

“Why don’t I give Dr. Song a call?” Jimin says instead, reaching for his work phone as he uses the computer mouse with the other hand to find the practice number. “I’m sure they can speed it up a little for you.”

“Oh, that would be great,” the woman says with enthusiastic gratitude, mainly because Jimin is doing exactly what she wants. Such is Jimin’s life. He dials the number and gets the receptionist, Sooah, who he knows well enough to spin his chair around with his back turned to the patient and ask for a bit of a rush.

“Is it for Jiyoung? Of course it is, what am I saying? I’ll grab it from Dr. Song. Give me five minutes,” Sooah says in exasperation, and Jimin smiles as they both hang up.

Jiyoung gets her prescription filled and only complains about it for ten seconds while Jimin is completing the process. Jimin ushers her out of the pharmacy and continues his workday in peace. In fact, he figures that being at work is the only peace that he’ll get, because he certainly isn’t getting it at home.

It’s Friday again. It’s been one week of listening to his neighbor get laid. He had a very energetic woman over on Saturday night. No one on Sunday night, thank fuck. A different woman on Monday night. A man on Tuesday night that made Jimin want to jerk off again in the bathroom. The same man on Wednesday night, to Jimin’s (mostly Jimin’s dick’s) dismay. No one last night, another nice break. But now Jimin is on the verge of asking his neighbor if he’s started a brothel that Jimin doesn’t know about, because it just cannot be possible for one person to have that many willing sexual partners every day of the week.

Jimin has started making conspiracy theories. Maybe his neighbor is a swinger. Maybe his neighbor has a roster of different partners that he rotates through. Maybe his neighbor is doing a trial for a new type of condom and needs partners. Maybe Jimin is just hallucinating the entire scenario. Or maybe this is a very real nightmare seventeen days before Christmas, and there’s no Jack Skellington around for entertainment or an escape from the madness.

Jimin is the only pharmacist on the closing shift, so he decisively locks up the pharmacy at seven o’clock and turns away an aggravated man who wants to grab something for his headache. Jimin sends him off to a 7/11 a block away and walks the other direction, shaking his head. It’s Friday night and his patience has worn incredibly thin. His sleep schedule is so discombobulated thanks to his neighbor’s sex life that he’s at a breaking point. Any day now, he’s going to snap and do something he regrets, like meet his neighbor face-to-face in a confrontation.

Stop fucking anything that moves!

Jimin takes the subway home and walks two and a half blocks back to his apartment building. He’s crossing the street towards home when he hears the revving of a motorcycle engine.

There’s a Harley emerging from the parking garage. Jimin recognizes it instantly as the motorcycle parked next to his car in spot 1103. It’s a beautiful bike—Jimin can’t deny that. He doesn’t know the first thing about motorcycles and has never once ridden one, but he knows a nice motorcycle when he sees one. It’s the driver, though, that makes him stop dead in his tracks. Full gear—black pants, black boots, black riding jacket, black helmet, black gloves. Just from his posture, Jimin can tell his neighbor is around his age. He’s fit at a glance. And when he grips the handles and looks both ways before peeling off into the night, Jimin heaves a sigh and pulls out his phone.

JIMIN [7:46PM]
Just saw my neighbor on his Harley Davidson motorcycle

Full riding gear

Couldn’t even see his face but I hate it and it’s stupid

HOBI HYUNG [7:47PM]
Bet he’s hot

TAE [7:47PM]
You could just go next door and meet him, you know

JIMIN [7:48PM]
Yeah sure good idea!

“Hi, I’m your neighbor! I’ve been listening to you fuck like an animal for a week now!”

That will go well

HOBI HYUNG [7:49PM]
Maybe he’d be embarrassed enough to stop ㅋㅋㅋ

TAE [7:49PM]
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ no way

This guy is a total whore

Said lovingly

He would probably get a kick out of Jimin’s bedroom wall being against his

JIMIN [7:50PM]
I’m doomed

Or maybe he’s not, because Jimin orders delivery for dinner and has a Netflix party with Taehyung and Hoseok as they watch the same show and comment back and forth, and it’s exactly the kind of social battery recharging he needs. A few years ago, when Jimin was dating a guy named Taemin, the four of them used to do get-togethers for movies or TV shows. Unfortunately for Jimin, when Taemin enlisted in the military to complete his mandatory service, he found another man who caught his eye; to his credit, he ended his relationship with Jimin before pursuing someone else after being discharged, and now he and Jimin have a solid friendship that they’ve maintained over the years. 

Even more unfortunate, though—Taemin knew how to fuck Jimin well. And Jimin is missing it desperately these days.

The good luck keeps coming, because when Jimin walks into his bedroom close to midnight, it’s quiet. Quiet. There’s no one in the bedroom next door. His neighbor hasn’t come home yet, and nothing makes Jimin happier than being able to crawl into bed to complete silence. 

He sleeps like a rock, too, waking up refreshed and ready to go ice-skating with Hoseok and Taehyung mid-afternoon. Jimin has never really been the overly festive type, but tomorrow, he’ll put up his fake Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and hang up the lights and decorate. And ice-skating always makes him feel happy and free, especially when he’s with his best friends. Now all he wants is for snow to fall to complete his ideal Christmas scenario, and he’ll have to catch it before it turns brown from the cars and pollution.

All of Jimin’s sleeping hopes are dashed on Saturday night while he eats dinner, though, when he hears laughter in the hallway, and then a door opens and shuts next to his apartment. While shoving kimchi into his mouth, Jimin silently pleads with the gods of slumber for his neighbor to be alone; maybe he was just on the phone, laughing at a conversation. He has to be alone, for the sake of Jimin’s sanity—

“HEY! LET ME IN, LOSER!”

Jimin whips his head over to his door, frightened when a heavy fist pounds on it relentlessly. He has half a mind to grab a knife from the kitchen just in case, but he decides against it at the last minute and rushes over to the door. He checks the peephole, and all he sees is a guy in an expensive winter coat and a face mask and baseball cap, holding a bottle of wine by the neck. So Jimin opens the door.

“Oh. Hello,” the handsome stranger says when he sees Jimin. He’s tall with a small face, and when he pulls his face mask down to his chin, Jimin gapes, because this is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He’s just pretty. Full lips, kind eyes, broad shoulders. “This isn’t, uh…”

Jimin leans forward and wordlessly points to apartment 1103, staring the stranger in the eye. The man glances over just in time for the door of 1103 to open, accompanied by a throaty laugh that doesn’t sound like Jimin’s neighbor at all. Must be a guest.

“Oh, thank you!” the stranger says with a short bow. “Lovely to meet you. Great neighbors. Such hospitality. Hey, I brought chardonnay. We’re doing wine,” he adds to whoever is standing in the doorway of apartment 1103.

Unless his neighbor is into orgies, Jimin thinks he’s in the clear for the night, and he’s happy to be right. He crawls into bed at half past midnight, and he can still hear the faint sounds of chatter and laughter coming from next door, but there’s no moaning or gasping or chanting or skin slapping sounds—a nice departure from the norm. His hopes for a good night’s sleep return, and he’s grateful, because tomorrow, he has to venture out to do a bit of Christmas shopping before he puts up his tree.

The tree goes up just before dinner. Jimin hangs up a few ornaments that he’s collected over the years, along with some lights and a star. It looks nice in the corner of the room, so he sends a picture to his mother so that she can stop lambasting him for not decorating his apartment festively. She replies with a thumbs up emoji, which is the most boomer response she can possibly give, but Jimin takes it as a positive and collapses onto his couch with a glass of wine, glancing over at the few purchases he made at the shops this morning for his friends.

It happens when he’s setting his alarm for 6:15 AM.

“No. No,” Jimin says through gritted teeth, throwing his phone onto the charger and kneeling on his bed. He scoots as close to the wall as possible, presses his chest to it, and then turns his head so that his ear is basically suctioned to the wall. He recognizes his neighbor’s voice, and then he hears a second male voice. The voices draw closer until they’re in the bedroom.

“No, no. It’s okay. Come here,” Jimin hears his neighbor say. “Come here, baby, let me see you.”

He hears a shy laugh. Footsteps. Kissing sounds. More laughter. And then the mattress creaks, and Jimin collapses dramatically onto his side in a fetal position, staring at the wall.

How? How? How is this man’s dick still attached to his body? How does he have the stamina? How is it even possible? Does Christmas just make him horny? It’s the “ho, ho, ho” sentiment, isn’t it? Is he that much of a player? Is he that good-looking? Where is he finding all these people?

The sweet talk turns to dirty talk quickly. Jimin leaves the bed and brushes his teeth so aggressively that his gums bleed. He snaps his fuzzy frog headband on like a grown man and shoves his blonde hair back with a scowl on his face. He goes through his skincare routine and pretends that frown lines are good for him. By the time he crawls back into bed, his neighbor and the partner for the night are fully going at it.

Jimin’s had enough.

Without even thinking, he lifts one fist and pounds it against the bedroom wall twice. The panting and moaning quells. Jimin lies on his back like he’s a vampire in a coffin with his arms crossed over his chest as he waits, his left hand curled into a fist like a weapon ready to fire. He’s a bit trigger happy, if he’s being honest, because ten days without decent sleep will do that to a man. Last night was too good to be true. Does this guy know how to be alone? Jimin wants to recommend therapy.

There are soft murmurs from the other side of the wall, like they’re testing the waters and wondering where the banging came from. Slowly, Jimin lifts his fist and rests it against the wall, closing his eyes and waiting for the noises to escalate so he can bang again. All he can hear is kissing noises and whispering. His fist slides down the wall minute after minute, though, and then his head lolls as he drifts off.

“AH! A-h-h-h-h, oh, oh, oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fu-u-u-uck…”

Jimin jolts awake when he hears the loud moaning, his sleeping position absolutely absurd. One leg is splayed outside of the blankets, one knee is bent and propped against the wall, one of his arms is over his head, and the other arm is pressed to the wall and ready to bang. He’s disoriented and confused, so he groans and inches over towards his bedside table to grab his phone. He just drifted off, right? His neighbor is just finishing—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, fucking shit, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jimin says the second he sees that it’s three in the morning and he’s been sleeping for about four hours. Four hours, and his neighbor is still entertaining a fuck buddy. This has to be a joke. Jimin can feel his skin burning with red hot anger as he throws back all his blankets and snatches up his phone for light. The noise fades as he walks into the living room area, but no doubt his neighbor is in the middle of fucking, so Jimin shoves his feet into a pair of shoes and yanks open his apartment door, squinting from the bright hallway lights as he pockets his phone. 

[mood: “sugarcoat” (natty solo) by kiss of life]

“Fucking ridiculous,” he mutters to himself, because it’s really come to this. He’s reached his limit. Before he stops to consider what he’s doing, Jimin just lifts his fist and pounds on the door beneath the numbers 1103. With his tongue pressed into his cheek, he folds his arms and impatiently waits, because if the person who answers the door isn’t a chiseled Greek god dropped from the sparkling heavens, then what’s the point? This man is getting his dick wet seven days a week. He’s either rich or handsome—can’t be both, Jimin decides on the spot.  That would be too much to handle.

Footsteps. A short laugh, a muffled voice insisting that whoever else is in the apartment needs to wait. Jimin almost knocks again just to annoy his neighbor, but then the door swings open.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Jimin blurts out before his eyes can even register the man standing before him.

“Can I what, now?”

“I said, can you shut the fuck up?” Jimin repeats through gritted teeth, but anything else he has to say dies on the tip of his tongue as the door opens a bit further, and his neighbor leans against the doorframe with his left shoulder, his tattooed right arm extended up high with his long fingers gripping the top edge of the door from behind. He’s shirtless. Shirtless. No shirt. None. Just a pair of black baggy sweatpants sitting low on his hips that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. He’s chiseled. He’s handsome with pretty eyes and sharp eyebrows and cute lips and black hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. He has a nose piercing and half a dozen ear piercings on each ear. And if Jimin sat on Santa’s lap and divulged what he wants for Christmas, the manifestation is standing at the door with one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Coal. Think about coal. Coal would be better.

Jimin’s neighbor leans forward just enough to peek into the hallway and to the right, where Jimin’s apartment is. He’s close enough that Jimin catches how nice he smells, and it’s infuriating. He has a vanilla citrus thing going on.

“And I suppose you might be my neighbor in apartment 1101,” the man says, a smirk spreading across his handsome face. “And you’d like me to…”

“I’d like you to maybe try fucking in the kitchen or something,” Jimin snaps with an exasperated sigh, lifting one hand to rub his eyes tiredly. “Anywhere but your bedroom, which happens to be right up against my bedroom wall.”

“Oh-h-h. Sorry about that. Free porn, though,” his neighbor replies with a cruel kind of casual lilt that makes Jimin’s blood boil. Where that blood is boiling, though, he can’t really pinpoint. He wants to think it’s in his head or the pit of his stomach out of anger, so he sticks with that.

“You know that if you leave marks on the wall, you won’t get your bond back when you move out of here,” Jimin continues, raising his eyebrows. “Just some friendly, neighborly advice, since your bed is basically drumming my wall.”

His neighbor snickers, biting his bottom lip. “Thanks for the advice, Spider-Man. I’ll get some padding for my bedframe so I can get my bond back. I don’t plan on moving out any time soon, though. Much to your dismay, I’m sure. I’m Jeon Jeongguk, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, I’m Park Jimin, and it’s three in the morning,” Jimin emphasizes. “I have to be awake in three hours for work, and you sticking your dick in anything that moves every night isn’t really helping my sleep cycle.”

“Oh, sorry, old man. I’ll try to tone it down,” Jeongguk replies through his laughter. Jimin is glad this asshole finds the situation amusing, because that makes approximately one of them. Jimin is fuming.

“Maybe you could go more than one night without getting laid and do me a favor. Think of it as a move-in gift,” Jimin says sarcastically. “Some people bring freshly baked cookies. Some people bring kimchi. You can bring goddamn silence and celibacy.”

Jeongguk bursts out laughing, doubling over and releasing the door as it bumps his hip. He uses an elbow to keep it propped open as he catches his breath, glancing up to see if Jimin has even cracked a smile. He hasn’t, so Jeongguk is shit out of luck.

“Ah-h-h, you’re funny. How old are you? Are you single? Do you like men? You could be my moving-in gift,” he asks with a shit-eating grin, biting the tip of his tongue between his perfect teeth.

“You’re absolutely vile,” Jimin replies. “Keep it in your pants, Jeon Jeongguk. Or bring it to the kitchen. Maybe you can lube up with sesame oil and save me the agony of having to listen to you blow a load every night.”

“Bold of you to assume I blow a load every night. What if I’m a service top, hm? Maybe I don’t need to come to enjoy myself,” Jeongguk says, and it’s painfully clear that he’s both teasing and flirting. Flirting. This man is flirting with his irate neighbor when he has a fuck buddy waiting in his bedroom.

“Literally shut up when you’re fucking, or I’m going to start blasting ‘Baby Shark’ just to kill your boner,” Jimin snaps. “Welcome to the building, Jeongguk.”

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Jeongguk calls out, because Jimin is already walking away. He’s so worked up that he presses in the code on his keypad incorrectly twice before he finally manages to get back inside his own apartment.

“‘How old are you? Are you single? Do you like men?” Jimin repeats in a nasally voice to mock Jeongguk as he stomps into his bedroom. “Fucking hell. What an asshole.”

He crawls back into bed with a huff and flops onto his pillows, his heart still pounding from the sudden rush of emotions and the traitorous attraction he felt for his horny neighbor. Jeon Jeongguk is objectively good-looking—Jimin is adult enough to admit that much. Jimin isn’t wondering anymore how his neighbor is getting laid so consistently. But Jimin refuses to think about or see Jeongguk as anything but a new nuisance in his life, because thinking of him in any other way isn’t beneficial to Jimin at all. Maybe now that he’s said his piece, Jeongguk will take it to heart and shut up.

As Jimin exhales and sinks deeper into his pillows, he feels triumphant, if not slightly smug. He has a pretty high tolerance for bullshit, but he’s put a stop to it now, and his hope is that Jeongguk feels embarrassed enough about being heard through the walls that he’ll quiet down—

“Ah! Ba-a-a-abe…”

“Mhm. Nice and loud, sweetheart,” Jeongguk says in a teasing tone. It sounds like his mouth is right up against the wall.

“Ah, feels so—so good…”

Revenge. Jimin vows revenge. There will be retribution. There will be hell to pay. He’s going to ruin Jeon Jeongguk’s sex life if it’s the last thing he does.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

When Jimin opens his front door in the morning to go to work, he nearly trips and falls flat on his face as he tries to avoid something that’s sitting on the ground near his threshold. He catches himself and curses quietly, and then he crouches down and picks up a clear plastic container with bright orange earplugs in it. The container is taped to a note:

For my pretty neighbor xoxoxo

“You—” Jimin crumples up the note, marches up to Jeongguk’s door, and pounds a heavy fist on it, not caring that it’s only seven in the morning or that he barely knows more than Jeongguk’s name. “YAH! JEON JEONGGUK!”

There’s no answer. Jimin isn’t expecting one. He doesn’t even know if Jeongguk is home or awake. But Jimin takes a chance, because you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right?

“I’m gonna ruin your life, Jeon Jeongguk!” Jimin shouts. “You’ll never know peace again! Mark my words!”

Furious, Jimin throws the earplugs at Jeongguk’s door, but then he rethinks and picks them up, shoving them into his bag with a heavy sigh. Before he gets into the elevator, he glances back thinking he’ll see the door of apartment 1103 open. It doesn’t. 

Jimin spends his entire shift at the pharmacy pulling at one of the ear loops of his face mask and clenching his jaw whenever he helps a customer. His favorite delivery man stops by with five boxes of stock as a “Happy Monday” gift, so Jimin chats with him and even hints at the fact that he hasn’t been getting much sleep.

“That’s nothing to brag about, son,” the delivery man says seriously, because he’s twice Jimin’s age. “Lack of sleep will kill you.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Jimin says with a weak laugh as if he doesn’t know that a fucked up sleep schedule will lead to him talking to figments of his imagination in his spare time. “Drive safely. Take care.”

“Get some sleep!”

“Yeah, I would love to, “Jimin grumbles to himself as he returns to his computer, sighing when the phone rings. He’s off at three o’clock today. Each minute feels like an eternity.

But when Jimin gets on the 3:23 PM subway towards home, it feels like someone popped him with a pin. He feels deflated, like the air has been sucked out of him completely. He’s not much of a nap person, because naps always lead to him waking up four hours later disoriented with a headache and a dry mouth, wondering what century it is. He’ll have to distract himself long enough to make it to bedtime and hope he’s tired enough to sleep through Jeongguk’s sinning.

Speak of the devil.

“Look who it is!”

“Nope. I’m taking the next elevator,” Jimin says crankily when the doors of the elevator open in the lobby and Jeongguk is the only one standing there. He’s leaning against the railing in the corner with his ankles crossed, phone in one gloved hand, black motorcycle helmet dangling in the other hand, and he has a black backpack on his shoulders. He’s wearing his black leather jacket, but even though it’s zipped up, Jimin can see some kind of dress shirt beneath.

Is Jeongguk a businessman?

“Oh, come on. Get in,” Jeongguk insists, sliding far enough to stick out his leg and hold the door. The elevator doors bounce off his leg and re-open, so Jimin decides to be the bigger person and get into the elevator. He stands in the opposite corner, though, just out of spite.

“So-o-o-o. How was your day?” Jeongguk asks in a friendly tone, leaning back against the corner as the elevator rises again.

“Oh, it was lovely. My only regret is that I didn’t sleep enough last night, so I was tired all day long,” Jimin emphasizes. Jeongguk grins.

“I got you a present,” he says simply. “But since you’re going to— ahem— ‘ruin’ my life, maybe I should revoke my gift.”

Jimin stops staring at the elevator buttons and whips his head over to stare at Jeongguk. “Oh, so you did hear me this morning! Good. Did your fuck buddy stay the night? Maybe he heard me, too. Here’s to hoping.”

Jeongguk’s tongue darts out to lick his lips as the doors open, and he gestures to let Jimin exit first. Jimin takes his chances and steps into the hallway; their apartments are at the opposite end of the hall, so they have a bit of a walk.

“Did I come on too strongly last night?” Jeongguk asks, falling into step beside Jimin as if that’s exactly what Jimin wants. “I didn’t mean to. You were funny, though. And cute. That still stands.”

“Do you just flirt with anything that moves and breathes?” Jimin asks, avoiding looking at Jeongguk at all costs. If he looks, he might start considering how hot Jeongguk is, and how Jeongguk has that whole pain-in-the-ass-fuck-boy-please-fuck-me-next-though kind of vibe.

“You won’t believe me if I say no,” Jeongguk says with a grin that Jimin can see even in his peripheral vision. “So I’m just going to go out on a limb and tell you that I think you’re attractive just in case you’re ever interested.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know there was an open door policy,” Jimin snaps. “Who I’m attracted to is none of your business, anyway. You’re my neighbor. Nothing more, nothing less. Let’s keep it that way. I don’t need to know anything about you.”

“I’m sure you’ve hooked up with someone at a club with far less information, but okay,” Jeongguk says as he punches in the code on his keypad and pushes open the door. Leaning one shoulder against it, he adds, “Again, if I’m coming on too strongly, just tell me. But you haven’t exactly…” He shrugs, and he’s right. Jimin wants to kick himself. He hasn’t denied Jeongguk’s approach. 

Truthfully, he kind of likes it.

It might be pathetic, but men like Jeongguk are thrilling to Jimin for absolutely no good reason. Jimin loves a good argument. He likes a challenge. He likes men who butt heads with him and push his buttons, but make him feel appreciated at the same time. He likes when someone makes him work for it, whatever “it” is, and when he has to get creative in his comebacks. He lives for the teasing and the back-and-forth when he knows it's going to end in great sex. So the crux of the problem is that Jeongguk is attractive, tattooed, annoying, ambitious (clearly), and probably good in bed. He’s Jimin’s ideal type.

But he’s also the last thing Jimin needs this festive holiday season.

“Try to keep condom production companies in business for one more day, Jeongguk-ssi,” Jimin says politely as he opens his door. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it. Good night.”

Jeongguk throws his head back as he laughs, leaning forward and into his apartment and letting the door fall shut behind him. Jimin heaves a sigh and enters his own apartment, kicking off his shoes tiredly and shrugging his bag to the floor. At this point, he's been able to get the last word in both times he's come face-to-face with Jeongguk, so he'll consider it another victory. Granted, Jeongguk has… quite literally had the last laugh both times, but Jimin is confident in himself. He can keep Jeongguk at bay.

Perhaps Jeongguk cares about Jimin’s sleep schedule, because Monday night is silent. Jimin does some online Christmas shopping in peace and plans his travels to Busan to see his family on Christmas Day. It doesn't feel like Christmas quite yet, or maybe Jimin is just an overworked Scrooge this year. He has his decorations up, but it hasn't snowed in Seoul yet, and besides ice skating, Jimin hasn't partaken in many festivities. Maybe he'll have to change that. Becoming holiday-jaded before thirty isn't a good look.

Jimin spends his Tuesday at work unwillingly fielding Afterglow messages from potential matches, because the app is reminding him to give these men attention. Jimin gives them attention by deleting them from his list in between patients who come to the pharmacy, texting Hoseok and Taehyung and telling them that he doesn’t appreciate having to deal with a slew of Christmas-related hook-up jokes.

TAE [4:35PM]
OK but you should let someone slide down your chimney :(

JIMIN [4:35PM]
I will actually make sure you get coal for Christmas 

TAE [4:36PM]
I’ll take two very large lumps of coal, please!!!!

Nice and round and firm, easy to fondle

JIMIN [4:36PM]
You’re a demon

HOSEOK [4:37PM]
Can you two shut up

I’m trying to schedule a root canal for someone

The day I become a proper dentist, I strapping both of you heathens to a chair

JIMIN [4:39PM]
Can we at least be together?

I want to hold Taehyung’s hand while we suffer thanks to you, hyung!!!!!

HOSEOK [4:40PM]
Go fuck your neighbor, Jimin ❤️

JIMIN [4:40PM]
Over my dead body, hyung ❤️

As it turns out, Jimin doesn’t need to fuck Jeongguk. He doesn’t even have to offer, because it’s a goddamn Tuesday night mid-December, and while Jimin is enjoying some leisurely quiet time reading a book (old reliable Crying in H Mart) while in bed, he hears faint chatter in the hallway before he hears a door close.

“Please be a friend,” he whispers, closing his eyes and slumping into the bed. “Please, please, please…”

It’s a friend, alright. A friend with benefits.

It’s a Tuesday night. Jimin grips his book tightly, feeling like he’s going to leave fingerprint indentations on the pages. Why and how is Jeongguk pulling someone new every single night to bring to his bed? Is he doing it as a joke now, or does he have a rotation of regulars? Is Jimin going absolutely insane? He can only answer the last question, which is a resounding “yes.” He’s going to lose his mind. It’s ten o’clock—a relatively reasonable hour. He can’t even complain about it or say that Jeongguk is being impolite anymore, because ten o’clock is normal. Last night was a reprieve. Tonight, it’s business as usual.

Jimin turns a page in his book. He hears Jeongguk’s voice mixing with another male voice, and he rolls his eyes with a clenched jaw, focusing so hard on the words on the page that they seem to be floating. The conversation is muffled. Jeongguk lets out a soft laugh that makes Jimin’s jaw unclench. And then the bed creaks and gently knocks against the wall as two people fall onto it.

Jimin made a promise to Jeongguk that he would, indeed, do anything possible to ruin his sex life. He hasn’t had time to properly concoct a devious plan, but maybe he doesn’t need a plan. Maybe he can just wing it. He’s good at doing things on the fly—always has been. It’s one of his many talents, academically or otherwise. He has a varied and broad skill set.

Said skill set includes jeers and comebacks at the drop of a hat.

“God, you’re so big…” the partner moans with a gasp, and it sounds so much like a standard line from a cheap porno that Jimin snorts with laughter and has to cover his mouth to silence the sound. “So big, so big—”

“No he’s not!” Jimin hollers before he can stop himself. The sudden silence on the other side of the wall is instantaneous and immensely gratifying. Grinning, Jimin raps his knuckles on the wall loudly. “He’s not that big! Don’t delude yourself! You can do better!”

More silence. Jimin side-eyes the shared wall, holding his breath and his laughter until he hears quiet chatter between the two men. Pleased, Jimin returns to his book, bending his knees and propping the book’s spine against his thighs as he turns another page. Maybe if that’s all it takes, he can just shout out random shit to make his presence known more often—

Spoke too soon. The moans build quietly, and Jimin then hears Jeongguk’s voice probably whispering sweet nothings in his partner’s ear to get him back in the mood. For a fleeting moment, Jimin hates himself for wondering what Jeongguk’s voice would sound like in his ear saying unthinkable things, and that’s when he takes action again to erase such abhorrent thoughts. When the sound of skin slapping skin begins again, he grits his teeth and lets his book fall shut with his pointer finger holding his spot.

“Ah, ah! Oh-h-h, oh, Jeongguk, Jeongguk… There, there, right there—”

“He’s directionally challenged!” Jimin bangs on the wall again three times with a heavy fist. “He won’t be able to find that spot! Don’t get your hopes up!”

The moaning and skin slapping stops immediately. Jimin hears the bed creaking and a bit of heavy breathing, followed by Jeongguk’s voice saying something. The lack of fucking on the other side of the bedroom wall is making Jimin’s ears ring, and it’s glorious. It’s exactly what he wants, and all he had to do was be an obnoxious neighbor to get his way. 

But then he hears a loud triple knock on his front door.

Answering would just be provocation. Jimin knows that in his heart of hearts. But he’s never been one to hide his true feelings, so he politely slips his bookmark between the pages, slides off his bed, and takes his sweet time exiting his bedroom and walking to the front door. The longer he takes, the less motivated Jeongguk will be to continue fucking his waiting partner.

“Yes, hello? Can I help you?” Jimin says kindly when he cracks open his front door. Jeongguk is standing there with a scowl on his face, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants again. No shirt. No shoes. Not even socks. His hair is slightly tousled, his tattoos are all on display, the stud piercing in his nose is sparkling in the fluorescent lighting… Jimin clenches his jaw.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say?” Jeongguk asks, pressing one hand against Jimin’s doorframe in a gesture that makes Jimin’s heart flutter. You fucking traitor, he thinks of his own heart.

“No, no,” Jimin says airily. “I just thought I would provide some commentary. You know how radio announcers talk about a soccer match? I’m helping you, Jeongguk. If nothing else, I’m just providing context for your partners.”

“Oh, so saying I’m not that big and that I’m directionally challenged is good context?” Jeongguk hisses, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, it’s an educated guess, but I do have ‘Baby Shark’ cued up and ready to go for your, uh…” Jimin makes a point of glancing down. “Baby shark,” he adds with a pleasant smile. “If you’re gonna fuck like animals, then I’m going to make comments like you’re on an Animal Planet documentary. ‘My, would you look at the size of this buffoon!’”

“This bu—!” Jeongguk interrupts himself with a loud laugh that carries through the hallway, all scowling forgotten as he backs away and circles himself, the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes, head tilted back. He drags his hands down his face as Jimin watches with a clenched jaw, toes curling in his socks. It’s criminal how hot Jeon Jeongguk is. It’s annoying. His muscles flex with every move he makes, and Jimin wonders if his muscles flex when he—

“You’re a goddamn brat,” Jeongguk says, leaning against Jimin’s door frame again with a boyish grin that confuses Jimin profusely. “Let me fuck my partners in peace. I’ll buy you another pair of earplugs. A lifetime supply, if that’s what it takes. Or you can just listen in and accept it instead of making smart-ass comments.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin says, raising his eyebrows. “Let me think… oh, right. No. Absolutely not. As I said, you’ll never know peace again as long as you share a bedroom wall with me and you have size queens moaning about your big dick.”

“Oh, I thought it wasn’t that big,” Jeongguk says with a lilt in his voice, shrugging one shoulder. “But let me know if you’d like to find out. I’m sure listening to me getting laid is a turn-on for you, at the very least. So if you’re curious, you’re welcome to find out for yourself.”

“I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to say that again,” Jimin requests. “I can’t hear you over the size of your massive fucking ego.”

Jeongguk lets out a bark of laughter, stepping back and adjusting his sweatpants around his hips. He does it on purpose. Jimin’s sure of that. He does it because he knows he’s hot, and nothing could possibly be worse than a hot guy knowing that he’s hot and knowing that his target audience is one very horny, single man with an early bedtime.

“Well, now that you’ve successfully ruined my night, I’ll have to go back in there and see if my partner wants to continue,” Jeongguk says with a dramatic sigh, shaking his head.

“Oh, you poor thing. If you do continue, I’ll be sure to share my thoughts,” Jimin said with a scrunched-nose smile. “Or you can take up my previous offer and go fuck in another room. Have a good night, Jeongguk. Oh, Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk!” Jimin dramatically moans, nearly collapsing to his knees with appropriate theatrics before he slams the door shut. Jeongguk bursts out laughing on the other side, and then he pounds a fist on Jimin’s door.

“You’re a brat!” he hollers again, but then he goes back to his own apartment.

It’s quiet for the rest of the night.

Jimin: 1. Jeongguk: 0.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

[mood: “3D (alternate version)” by jungkook]

Wednesday night is quiet, and Jimin sleeps soundly. Thursday night is not quiet at all. Jeongguk has another “friend” over, and this woman is not as vocal as his past partners, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from making his usual commentary when he hears them.

“Yah, Jeon Jeongguk!” Jimin hollers, smacking his hand against the bedroom wall a few times. “Did you ever get rid of that weird rash on your balls?”

His statement is met with silence from the other side. Jimin can hear Jeongguk speaking hurriedly, and he grins, hoping that Jeongguk is having to reassure his partner that there’s no weird rash anywhere. Pleased, Jimin goes and brushes his teeth and washes his face, but when he crawls back into bed, it’s business as usual.

“Let me find…” Jimin murmurs to himself, scrolling through his phone until he finds the song he wants on Spotify. He makes sure that his phone is connected to his speakers, and then he presses PLAY. As he slides down beneath the covers and onto his pillow, he enjoys the bass thumping and the sounds of “Gentleman” by Psy. Normally, it’s a great song for nightclubs or driving around late at night with friends. But it’s downright obnoxious at half past eleven at night. The beat builds to the chorus, and that’s when Jimin hears a loud thud against the wall.

Politely, Jimin turns down the music, because he knows his limits, and he does want to get some sleep. But as he cuts off the song, he hears a heavy fist knocking on his front door, followed by a pause, followed by another loud knock.

“PARK JIMIN.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, but he can’t suppress the giddy grin on his face as he walks toward the front door. Knowing that he’s getting under Jeongguk’s skin by being obnoxious is one of the best feelings, and he knows that when he opens the door and sees Jeongguk’s scowl, it’ll be the cherry on top of a hard-fought victory.

Except Jeongguk isn’t scowling.

“Jimin-ssi, while I do appreciate your music tastes,” Jeongguk begins the moment Jimin opens the door, “I’m going to have to ask you to turn it down a little.”

“No, no,” Jimin says, wiggling his door back and forth and eying Jeongguk head to toe. No shirt. No shoes or socks. Just a pair of gym shorts. Gym shorts, in this weather. They leave almost nothing to the imagination, and Jimin forces himself to keep his eyes far above the belt. “I have a playlist ready to go. The next song is ‘Daddy’ by Psy and CL. Figured that might suit you.”

“That might suit me?” Jeongguk grins, biting the corner of his bottom lip. He’s been grinning like that since Jimin opened the door. “Are you saying you want to call me Daddy? I’m flattered, Jimin-ssi, but really, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“You should be so lucky to have someone like me calling you ‘Daddy,’” Jimin fires back.

“You’re right.” Jeongguk leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and licking his lips. “I would be lucky, but you’re too busy on the other side of the bedroom wall, and you don’t seem to want to get to know me in that way, so-o-o-o…”

“Exactly. Now fuck whoever is in your apartment quietly, or I’ll keep playing music,” Jimin threatens with a smile. “Good night!”

“Wait, wait, wait.” An arm cuts through the space between the door and Jimin’s apartment, forcing Jimin to open the door again with raised eyebrows. Jeongguk drops the arm, hand smacking against his thigh. “You sure you don’t want to get to know me? You can come over to my apartment sometime. Netflix and chill. Eat ramyeon. See my cat. Whatever you want to do.”

Jimin snorts with laughter, resisting the urge to thump his fist against his chest a few times to clear the surprised noises lodged in his throat. “You have someone naked in your bed in your apartment right now, and you’re standing here flirting with me? Are you serious?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Jeongguk admits with a shrug. “I like a challenge. And you doing stupid shit like banging on my bedroom wall just gives me an excuse to come over here and watch you squirm.”

“Good night, Jeongguk,” Jimin emphasizes, and with as much gusto as he can muster, he shoves his door closed and makes a point of locking it.

And once again, it’s quiet once Jeongguk returns to his own apartment. Jimin is even awake long enough to hear Jeongguk’s guest leave for the night, and it’s before midnight. Must be a new record. He starts to doze off listening to the faint and muffled sounds of Jeongguk in his bathroom, and then the bed creaks again, a sound that Jimin dreams about now thanks to his new neighbor.

But then he hears something.

He’s half-asleep at this point, but his body has now been hardwired to recognize when Jeongguk is engaging in some kind of sexual activity, and it’s only been two weeks. Jimin is a fast learner, but he’s almost positive that Jeongguk dismissed his guest and is now alone in his bedroom.

“Ah, fuck…”

Jimin’s eyes shoot open all the way. His blankets are snug around his body, so he feels like a mummy who has been resurrected after the breaking of a centuries’ old curse. He stares at the ceiling in the darkness, trying to determine if he’s just hallucinating, but it doesn’t take long for a soft thud to startle him—Jeongguk. Against the bedroom wall. His breathing is a bit heavier, and he isn’t saying much, but Jimin feels the heat rising from the pit of his stomach up to his neck and his face when he realizes exactly what’s happening.

Jeongguk is getting himself off.

“You motherfucker,” Jimin hisses, throwing the blankets back and scrambling to a half-seated position with his pillow crushed beneath his lower back. Horrified, he leans closer to the wall and listens, and it’s true—he’s not hallucinating. He’s heard Jeongguk in this state before, so there’s absolutely no mistaking what’s going on. The little hitched breaths, the quiet curse words, the dull thuds against the wall… he’s getting himself off, and he’s doing it on purpose. Jimin is absolutely certain of that.

Maybe Jimin’s brain is just drifting into horny territory, but he’s positive he hears Jeongguk gasp out, “I’m close,” and nothing could possibly be worse for Jimin to hear. Beneath the blankets, he feels his toes curling and his skin thrumming, and his cock begins to harden beneath his pajama pants as he closes his eyes and exhales shakily.

“Not now, not now, not now,” he whispers to himself, hands forming two fists like that was going to stop the flood of arousal consuming his body. But on the other side of the wall, Jeongguk lets out another soft gasp, and that’s the tipping point. Jimin doesn’t even hesitate as he shoves one hand into his pajama pants and past his underwear, gripping his hardening length and applying pressure. That only makes it worse; he hooks his left thumb into his pants and pulls them down far enough to wrap his right hand fully around himself as he begins to stroke, using the little bit of pre-come to make the slide easier. His head falls back against the pillows as he clamps his bottom lip between his teeth, desperate to keep quiet.

“Close, close, I’m gonna come,” he hears Jeongguk rasp. Jimin knows he’s doing it as some kind of revenge for being interrupted, but despite being fully aware that it’s a set-up, Jimin keeps going. His hand speeds up, legs writhing from the building pleasure inside him. He waits with shallow breath for Jeongguk to say something, anything, and it only takes a few seconds.

“I’m coming,” Jeongguk gasps out, and so is Jimin. He throws his arm over his face and bites down on his forearm, back arching off the pillows as he comes.

The horrified silence that follows his orgasm makes Jimin’s ears ring. His legs are still trembling, and he has cum all over his hand and his stomach, but he stays perfectly still, because if Jeongguk knew what he just did, he’d never let Jimin live it down. He would be knocking on Jimin’s door every day to flirt like they weren’t just neighbors.

Jimin wants to feel guilty. For a moment, he wonders if what he just did is wildly inappropriate, if getting off to someone else’s intimate moments isn’t right. He thinks about shaming himself, almost runs to the bathroom to wash his hands of his own sins, but then he hears a polite little knock on the wall.

“Good night, Jimin-ssi!” Jeongguk calls out. “Sleep well!”

Jimin clenches his jaw so hard that it hurts.

Jimin: 1. Jeongguk: 1.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

Jimin feels a bit too devious ten days before Christmas, because during his entire work shift on Friday, as he’s explaining in monotone how each patient’s medication works when they come to fill their prescription, he’s plotting.

He thinks first of all the cliché pranks that happen in Hallmark movies. They were enemies! False. They were always just two idiots miscommunicating while pining after one another during a miraculous Christmas Day snowfall, and the pranks were stupid. So once Jimin realizes that everything he’s brainstorming requires actually seeing Jeongguk, he goes back to the drawing board.

A stroke of brilliance comes to him when Taehyung calls when Jimin is on his way home around 3:30 that afternoon.

“Hey, can I come over tonight?” Taehyung asks before Jimin even so much as says hello. “Hoseok is doing a hweshik with some of the other dentists, so he’ll be busy kissing as many asses as possible. Just dinner or something. So I’m not alone.”

“You know you can just show up without calling or asking,” Jimin says with a small smile, approaching Gangnam Station.

“I could, but I don’t want to catch you in a compromising position,” Taehyung replies, and his tone is teasing, which is a red flag for Jimin. His instincts are correct, because Taehyung adds, “You know, in case you and your hot neighbor decide to get down and dirty.”

“I wouldn’t let him touch me with a ten-foot pole,” Jimin lies. He would let Jeongguk touch him with one very specific pole, figuratively speaking. “Just come over whenever. We’ll do jjajangmyeon or something. And I have a favor to ask you.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you at seven or sometime around then. Don’t know what the favor is, but I can be sweet-talked into anything for you, Jimin-ah. Gotta go—my next client is here,” Taehyung says. “Love you, love you, bye.”

“Love you, bye,” Jimin says as Taehyung hangs up and returns to his work as an exercise physiologist. He gets all kinds of clients, from seven-year-old boys doing taekwondo to men from the local soccer teams in their twenties and thirties who need Taehyung’s expertise to help them heal and achieve better results. Taehyung has a good bedside manner that Jimin sometimes envies, though he says Jimin has the best bedside manner.

There is one bedside that deserves Jimin’s bad manners, though, and it’s Jeongguk’s.

True to his word, Taehyung shows up just before seven o’clock, and he’s not empty-handed. He’s carrying jjajangmyeon and soju, and Jimin leans in and jokingly kisses Taehyung’s forehead with a loud smacking sound before letting him in. Taehyung sets the food and drink down on the countertop in the kitchen, and then he immediately runs backwards and catches the door before it closes. Gripping the door frame with one hand, he leans back and takes a look next door at apartment 1103.

“I don’t know why—sorry. I don’t know why,” he repeats as he ducks back into the apartment, “I’m staring at his door like he’s gonna pop out and let me get a good look at him. Have you found him on social media yet?”

“No.” Jimin rips open the plastic bag and pulls out the jjajangmyeon container. “Why would I do that?”

Taehyung settles onto one of Jimin’s barstools and props his chin on his two fists, one eyebrow raised. “Because if you know his name, then stalking him on social media is the very least you could do to figure out if he’s a weirdo or not.”

“Well, be my guest. I’m not doing it,” Jimin refuses, stirring the black bean sauce into the noodles and mixing vigorously. Taehyung takes out his phone and immediately navigates to Instagram, lips twisted in concentration. He knows Jeongguk’s name, unfortunately, because Jimin blurted it out about a week ago—

“Found him. Except his account is private, which is a shame,” Taehyung laments, turning his phone after only ten seconds and showing Jimin. There’s the proof— Jeon Jeongguk. Username: abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz. JK is missing. Jimin is so mad at how clever the username is that he almost misses the bio that Jeongguk has written: doing some art. That’s it. Nothing else.

“Is he a tortured artist?” Jimin sarcastically offers, staring at the profile picture of Jeongguk wearing a Calvin Klein baseball cap and throwing up a peace sign while atop some kind of mountain during a hike.

“Isn’t that your type? He’s just ticking all your boxes, Jimin,” Taehyung says as he breaks apart the chopsticks that came with the meal and rises up onto his knees to eat. Jimin is about to respond with something sarcastic when he hears chatter in the hallway, followed by a door opening and closing. Taehyung whips his head over and stares at Jimin’s door with wide eyes, using his chopsticks to gesture. Jimin nods and heaves a sigh, because of course Jeongguk has invited someone over for a Friday night tryst. And as Taehyung peels open a container of pickled radish, Jimin goes over his diabolical plan in his head.

The plan is to give Jeongguk a taste of his own medicine.

It borders on childish and it’s absolutely petty, but Jeongguk seems to think that Jimin is playing fun games and that he’s just free to continue being loud and annoying and disrupting Jimin’s sleep schedule. So instead of interrupting Jeongguk’s sex life, Jimin has decided that his new tactic is to make Jeongguk put up with listening to Jimin having sex.

Not actually. But Jimin has practice with faking it. Men love to disappoint him.

When Taehyung carries all of the food and soju over to the coffee table, Jimin helps him and grabs some extra kimchi and some shine muscat grapes for dessert. With a full stomach, Taehyung will be more inclined to agree to help Jimin out, so Jimin waits patiently and enjoys his dinner, tossing back shot after shot of soju to celebrate Friday. When all of the food disappears and the soju bottle is nearly empty, Jimin takes a deep breath and gives Taehyung a look, which he knows his best friend will understand.

“Alright.” Taehyung wipes his mouth and leans back against the couch with his fingers laced overhead, twisting his spine and stretching, joints cracking. “What’s the favor?”

Jimin folds his hands on top of the table politely. “I need you to pretend to fuck me.”

Taehyung freezes, hands still above his head, and he purposely tilts his head down to give himself a double chin as he glares at Jimin. Jimin only blinks, lips pursed, firm in his statement, willing to beg if he needs to. Taehyung unlaces his fingers and holds his hands above his head like he’s on a rollercoaster, judging Jimin with a steely gaze, and then he changes to finger guns aimed at Jimin.

“No.”

“Come on,” Jimin says, almost speaking over Taehyung’s rejection. “Taehyung, please, honey. I need you. I need you for this.” He sets his elbows on the table and presses his palms together, fingertips against his lips. When he clicks his tongue, he pushes his palms away, fingertips directed at Taehyung. “I’ll owe you one if you do this for me.”

“Damn it, you know I love blackmail,” Taehyung curses, setting one fist on the table in contemplation. Jimin milks that for all it’s worth, because Taehyung is a petty bitch like him.

“Taehyung, this man has been fucking people almost every night for two weeks,” Jimin emphasizes. “Right up against my wall. I’m suffering greatly. The only joy I can get out of this is to ruin his sex life. I need him to hear how disruptive it is to have sex up against that bedroom wall.”

“Or, for your consideration…” Taehyung leans back with a mischievous grin that tells Jimin he’s not going to like what comes out of his best friend’s mouth. “You want to make him jealous.”

“I do not want to make him jealous,” Jimin spits out, rolling his eyes. “I simply want to make a point.”

“Eh-h-h,” Taehyung sings out in a high-pitched tone with a dramatic shrug. “I think you want to think that it’s just to make a point, but in reality, your neighbor is hot by your own admission and he’s been flirting with you every time he sees you, and you’ve been getting off to some of his sexual escapades, and now you want him to hear you getting fucked so that he’ll be jealous and want you even more than he probably already does.”

Jimin stares. Taehyung stares back. Jimin slowly glances over his right shoulder, and then his left shoulder.

“Were you reading that off a teleprompter? Is there a script?” he asks hollowly.

“No. I just have a lot of feelings,” Taehyung jokes, snickering. “Tell me how accurate I was.”

“Bullshit. All bullshit,” Jimin declares. Taehyung lets out a bark of laughter.

“When you’re lying, you blink twice as much,” he declares, pointing at Jimin’s face. “I’ve known you for a decade, Park Jimin. I know what kind of dick you like. And I haven’t even met your neighbor, but I know you want his dick.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I want a dick that’s used every night,” Jimin snaps, and then he closes his eyes, because he’s blinking a lot. Way too much. Definitely because he’s lying and because Taehyung is spot on. 

“Darling, we should all be so lucky,” Taehyung airily replies. “If the man’s got the stamina for it, then good for him. Now tell me you want to be on his roster, and I’ll gladly do this for you.”

“Absolutely not. Forget it,” Jimin says, shaking his head and crossing his arms as he slouches in premature defeat.

“All you have to do is admit that you’re attracted to your hot neighbor and you want to fuck him,” Taehyung says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Tell me you want to ride his dick like a bicycle and we can do our little roleplaying gimmick.”

“What, so I can’t just want revenge on my neighbor for keeping me up every night with the amount of sex he’s having during this festive season?” Jimin fires back crankily. “I’m not admitting to anything. You just want to humiliate me.”

“What’s humiliating about admitting you want to get dicked down?” Taehyung asks with a laugh, reaching for a shine muscat grape and popping it into his mouth. As he chews, he adds, “If you and I have fake sex, I’m absolutely going to go home and make sure Hoseok fucks me silly. No shame in my game.”

“Yeah, because Hoseok is your boyfriend,” Jimin retorts.

“And fire is hot.” Taehyung shrugs again.

“Isn’t the saying ‘water is wet’?”

“‘Water is wet’ is actually completely wrong because water is water and it makes things wet. Water itself isn’t inherently wet.”

“That’s—” Jimin opens and shuts his mouth, brow furrowing. “That’s… a hot take.” He shakes his head as Taehyung snorts with laughter, biting his lower lip in a grin. “My point is, I’m not admitting to anything.”

“Say the word and we’ll go fake-fuck,” Taehyung insists. “Say it and we’ll go right into the bedroom. Easy. So easy. Go ahead.”

Jimin heaves a sigh as Taehyung hums to himself and eats another grape. He’s watching Jimin with a little smile on his face, like he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s excruciating to have a friend who knows him so well; Jimin should have considered such a thing before asking Taehyung to help him out. But he also knows that Taehyung is, without a doubt, the best man for the job. And although he might tease Jimin, he won’t judge Jimin, at the end of the day. 

“Fine.”

Taehyung leans in eagerly, batting his eyelashes. Jimin reaches over, grabs a grape, and throws it at Taehyung’s face. It bounces off his nose and lands in the soy sauce.

“Jeongguk is attractive and he flirts with me and I like it, and I want to make him jealous, but!” Jimin holds up a threatening finger before Taehyung can be smug about it. “I don’t just want to make him jealous. I want him to reconsider fucking anything that moves right up against our shared wall and think about fucking me instead so I can reject him.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes. “Mm… I don’t think you’d reject him, but I digress. To the bedroom!”

Jimin groans and falls onto his back as Taehyung leaps up, and he takes some time to stare at his ceiling and contemplate the current state of his life before he grudgingly hoists himself up and follows Taehyung into the bedroom.

“So there’s just a wall,” Taehyung says as if he hasn’t been in Jimin’s bedroom dozens of times before. “That’s it. A wall and your beds, and you have to listen to him get laid multiple times per week.”

“Mhm.” Jimin crosses his arms, gnawing on his bottom lip as he considers what he’s about to do. There’s no time to get stage fright, even though his heartbeat is already quickening at the very thought of what he’s about to do. “And he has someone over right now, which means he’ll be right up against that wall any second now.”

“That fast? So you think he’s in his bedroom now?” Taehyung quietly asks, crawling onto Jimin’s bed like he’s in the middle of some secret mission. He presses one ear up against the wall, one eye closed with his tongue sticking out like some kind of antenna to gauge what’s going on. “I don’t hear him.”

“Get away from there,” Jimin hisses, yanking Taehyung by the arm. “You can’t just say that when the walls are paper thin. Just give it a few minutes. He’ll take his little friend into the bedroom, and that’s when we can start. The point is to disrupt him as much as possible and make his life hell.”

“Got it, got it. And give him a preview of what he can expect when he gets you into bed, right?” Taehyung adds innocently, swinging his legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. When Jimin glares at him, he snorts gracelessly. “This is like something out of a fucking sitcom. What kind of sex are we having, exactly? Do we need an itinerary?”

“I don’t know. What kind of sex do you think we’d have?” Jimin asks, crossing his arms. The funniest part is that Taehyung’s eyes flick up to the ceiling as he seriously considers the question. 

“Hmm… Are you bottoming?”

“I look best when I’m taking cock, so yeah,” Jimin answers without sugarcoating it, and Taehyung lets out a yelp of laughter, smacking his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound as he falls onto the pillows. He lets out a sigh to calm himself down as Jimin pinches his brow.

“God, okay. You’re bottoming. So, uh… okay. You pretend to give me a blowjob. I’ll pretend to finger you open. And then I’ll just pretend that I’m fucking you from behind. Unless you want it another way,” Taehyung decides, and Jimin fights back a laugh.

“No, that’s perfect. And don’t be too dramatic. It has to be believable,” he instructs. “Less talking, more moaning. Or, rather, let me do the moaning.”

“Deal. Also, it goes without saying, but if either one of us gets turned on or pops a boner from this, we’ll just smile and nod,” Taehyung says, extending his hand for Jimin to shake. Jimin shakes it with a grin.

“Just two hot friends having fake sex. Nothing to see here,” he agrees, but then he freezes, still clutching Taehyung’s hand. He can hear light chatter in Jeongguk’s bedroom through the wall, which means that Jeongguk has migrated and it’s showtime.

“Alright, just like we rehearsed,” Taehyung whispers, and it takes everything Jimin has in him not to burst out laughing as Taehyung situates himself up against the pillows, his phone in his hand as he opens up the mobile phone version of the game DigiWar. A good distraction for him while he pretends to fuck Jimin.

“Okay, go,” Jimin hisses, climbing onto the bed as well in a kneeling position, his attention fixed on the shared wall. Taehyung clears his throat and scoots closer to the wall on purpose until his shoulder is up against it.

“Ah, fuck, babe, that’s so good,” he says with emphasis, and at the same time, he and Jimin both double over in silent laughter, Jimin covering his face with his hands to hold himself together. “That’s it, love… God, look at you. Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Jimin is in immediate physical pain from holding in his laughter, curled up in a ball with both arms thrown over his head now. He’s absolutely positive that this is the kind of talk that Taehyung uses with Hoseok in the bedroom, and surely it works wonders. But Jimin knows Taehyung far too well, which only makes it that much more hilarious.

“Feels amazing… yeah, yeah, you can keep going,” Taehyung coaxes, eyes glued to his phone screen when Jimin glances up to check. “Shit, so good… fuck, baby, okay. Pull off. Pull off before I come.”

He looks up from his phone, locks eyes with Jimin, and pulls a face that makes it look like he’s in the middle of an orgasm. Jimin smacks Taehyung’s shin with the back of his hand, so Taehyung purposely shifts around on the bed and knocks his shoulder into the wall.

“Now open yourself up for me, okay? Want you to be ready. Come here, baby. Come closer,” Taehyung insists, lifting his foot and abruptly pressing it to Jimin’s face. Jimin sputters and grabs Taehyung by the ankle, and he opens his mouth wide like he’s going to bite Taehyung’s big toe, but he resists the urge. Taehyung points at Jimin and mouths: your turn.

“Fuck, I just want you inside me,” Jimin says, pressing his palms to the mattress as Taehyung shakes with laughter. “Want to feel you inside me, want…” Jimin takes a deep breath. “Want you so badly, babe.”

“Shh, shh. I’ve got you. Almost ready,” Taehyung says, and then he makes a slashing motion at his throat to indicate that they should stop talking. Jimin reads his lips as he says: just moaning. Or at least, that’s what Jimin assumes Taehyung is saying. He makes a point of facing the wall as he begins to let out little breaths and gasps, gripping Taehyung’s calf muscle to keep him quiet. On the other side of the wall, as Jimin lets out another moan, he can’t hear much of anything happening besides the bed creaking just a little. But there’s no talking, and he can’t hear any noises that indicate sex.

“God, just fuck me,” Jimin begs. “Please, please…”

It’s in Jimin’s bedroom style to beg. He has his pride and his confidence, but something about begging a beautiful man to make him feel good is just fun. It’s a turn-on for him. It doesn’t make him feel weak or helpless or humiliated. It makes him feel the good kind of needy, like the only thing that will satisfy him is being full. He’s known for easily a decade that when it comes to sex, he’s an absolutely top-notch bottom. He looks great riding dick and even better taking it. He knows his strengths, and he knows what makes him feel good. He’s never been shy about it, either, which most men appreciate.

Taehyung nudges Jimin with his foot and turns his phone screen to show that he’s just won a round of DigiWar. Then he adds, “On your knees, beautiful. Come on. I’ve got you.”

Jimin makes a point of shifting around on the bed and getting onto his hands and knees, and Taehyung reaches forward and pats his head like he’s a dog. Jimin’s elbows almost give out on him as he laughs, but he holds it together long enough to let out another fake moan. It’s at that point that he realizes that there should be some very obvious sounds happening if he’s being fucked from behind, and neither he nor Taehyung have taken off a stitch of clothing. Scrambling, Jimin crosses his arms at the waist and takes off his top, tossing it aside, and Taehyung gives him a bewildered look.

“God, I’m so full,” Jimin moans, grabbing his phone and quickly writing a note for Taehyung to read: it has to sound like you’re fucking me. Taehyung’s eyes light up mischievously as he nods, gesturing to Jimin to bring him closer because he clearly seems to have an idea. And that’s why Taehyung is Jimin’s right-hand man—he enables every horrific, terrible, poorly planned idea Jimin has and executes them with the competence of an overly supportive best friend.

Harder, harder,” Jimin insists, moving closer at Taehyung’s request. Taehyung makes Jimin lie down draped over his thighs like he’s a baby, and then he lifts a cupped hand and begins to gently pat Jimin’s stomach in a rhythmic fashion. Jimin doubles over, trying not to burst out laughing because it tickles and it’s also going to make him cough. Taehyung is shaking with silent laughter, but he continues to make the skin slapping sound, circling his hand rapidly as a way to encourage Jimin to continue being vocal.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” Jimin gasps in time with the slapping, and for good measure, he reaches out and smacks his hand against the bedroom wall. That seems to be Taehyung’s limit, because he grabs one of Jimin’s extra pillows and throws it over his face to muffle his laughter. Still, they remain in character as Taehyung continues the slapping and makes Jimin moan at random intervals.

“Sound so pretty like this, baby,” Taehyung coos, and Jimin glares at him, but Taehyung only winks. “Nice and loud, that’s it.”

“Fuck, just make me come,” Jimin pleads loudly, turning his head toward the wall on purpose. “Make me come, make me come— ah-h-h-h.”

Taehyung pauses the slapping for a moment, holding up one finger and returning to his DigiWar game. With his bottom lip between his teeth, he frantically taps on the screen, and then he lets out a disappointed groan that basically doubles as a sex noise. Jimin will take it.

“Go ahead, beautiful. I’ll fuck you through it. Touch yourself for me,” Taehyung commands, and Jimin dramatically runs his hands all along his chest as Taehyung swats him away and resumes the stomach slapping. Jimin tries not to giggle and curl up and lets Taehyung pick up the pace. Jimin circles one finger a few times: wrap it up!

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jimin gasps, and for the grand finale, he lets out a loud moan that has a hint of scream to it, one heel kicking the wall alongside his hand. Taehyung throws both hands up in victory, promptly returning to his game as Jimin flops onto his back and pretends like he’s completely fucked out. To his surprise, Taehyung sighs and falls beside him, curling up with one leg slung over Jimin’s thigh.

“Were we too dramatic?” he whispers, and Jimin grins.

“It’s quiet,” he whispers back, pointing to the bedroom wall. “Mission accomplished.”

“You’re a great fuck,” Taehyung hisses, and Jimin almost snorts with laughter as he covers his mouth with one hand. “Do you think it worked? Or did we just have fake sex for no reason?”

“Don’t know.” Jimin squints at the wall. It’s silent. “Either way, it was funny, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Great moaning. Very believable. I’d totally fuck you,” Taehyung says quietly as Jimin jams his heel into Taehyung’s shin. “Now put your shirt back on, you whore.”

Laughing and silently congratulating each other, Jimin dresses in something comfortable and Taehyung finishes his game of DigiWar just as Hoseok texts to say that he’s leaving the hweshik now and can’t wait to see Taehyung at home. Taehyung makes an offer to go for round two, so Jimin smacks Taehyung’s ass as many times as possible on the way to the front door. As Taehyung is putting on his shoes, though, they both freeze.

“…Is that him?” Taehyung hisses, propping his hand on the door with one shoe halfway on. Jimin leans in and listens, and then he nods. There are quiet voices in the hallway, and one of them unmistakably belongs to Jeongguk.

“That’s him— stop, stop!” Jimin hisses back, but Taehyung is now moving with great haste, shoving his shoes on and ignoring the fact that he has to tie the shoelaces. Like any good best friend, he’s desperate to catch a glimpse of Jeon Jeongguk so he can put a face to the name, and Jimin can do nothing to stop him, even when he trips over his own feet and almost barrels headfirst into the door. Jimin grabs him around the waist and yanks, and they both stumble and fall to the ground.

“Let me see him!” Taehyung whisper-yells with a bit of a playful growl in the back of his throat, so Jimin just groans and releases Taehyung like he’s releasing a dog to chase after a bird. Taehyung grabs his bag and yanks open the door, and then he slows down and tilts his head in Jimin’s direction.

“Good night, Jiminie,” Taehyung says with an extra touch of affection, so Jimin leans against the doorframe and glances to his left. There’s Jeongguk, doing the same thing, and there’s a person with a hoodie on leaving Jeongguk’s apartment, walking down the hallway.

“Good night. Travel safely. Text me when you’re home,” Jimin requests, watching Jeongguk’s nameless friend disappear into the elevator at the end of the hall. Jeongguk is just shamelessly lingering in his doorway, arms crossed.

“I will,” Taehyung promises, his back turned to Jeongguk, a Cheshire grin plastered on his face. Taehyung knows when to turn it on, so he grabs Jimin’s hand and pulls, bringing Jimin in for an embrace. Jimin rests his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder and hugs him back, catching Jeongguk’s eye as he does. Jeongguk just raises one eyebrow, so Jimin mouths, “What?” 

“See you later,” Taehyung says, leaving one last kiss on Jimin’s cheek and slipping out of the embrace with his hand pressed to Jimin’s chest. He purposely glances at Jeongguk, nods, and then pivots and walks away, humming to himself. The very second he’s out of earshot, Jimin snaps his attention to Jeongguk.

“Can I help you with something, you creep?” he asks, and Jeongguk snorts with humorless laughter.

“No, no. Nothing at all. I heard enough,” Jeongguk replies nonchalantly, and he probably assumes that it’ll embarrass Jimin, but it only makes Jimin feel twice as triumphant. 

Jimin: 2. Jeongguk: 1.

“Well, I’d say it’s none of your business, but I guess it just comes with sharing a bedroom wall, doesn’t it?” Jimin says with an airy shrug. “Hope I didn’t interrupt your night.”

“Oh, you did. Ruined it, actually. I’m sure you’re very pleased about that,” Jeongguk answers, but he doesn’t sound mad at all. His eyes are just dragging up and down Jimin’s body relentlessly, and Jimin secretly hopes he’s now connecting all the fake moaning and sex noises to what Jimin looks like now. He wants the images burned into Jeongguk’s brain as revenge. 

“Well, seeing as you interrupt almost every goddamn night for me,” Jimin starts, but he doesn’t finish the sentence. He’ll let Jeongguk do that. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re not the only one getting laid.”

“Well, you’re such a tight ass,” Jeongguk says with a tongue-between-his-teeth grin as Jimin rolls his eyes. “At least he’s good-looking. But that’s a given, seeing as you’re… you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jimin asks, narrowing his eyes.

“It means that I’m not surprised you’re pulling men like that,” Jeongguk replies, still grinning. Jimin snickers and backs up toward his front door.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he declares. “Stay out of my business.”

“Then give me a chance,” Jeongguk says, and Jimin freezes with his finger hovering over his keypad. In slow motion, he lifts his head and looks up at Jeongguk, bewildered.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said,” Jeongguk replies, crossing his ankles as well. “One night. Any time, my place or yours, whenever. That’s the offer. And it’s an open offer. No expiry date.”

“Are you insane?” Jimin hisses. “You just sent off your fuck buddy, you just saw me send off mine, and now you’re standing here offering a one-night stand? Is your dick not satisfied? What the hell is your problem? Do you have any shame?”

“No problem here,” Jeongguk answers. “And no, I have very little shame. I feel like you should’ve realized that by now. Or maybe you’re just used to all the formalities. Don’t know. But I’ll make the offer anyway, because now that I’ve seen… heard… Well, whatever. That’s the offer. One night.”

“You’re my neighbor,” Jimin emphasizes, but Jeongguk snickers.

“Yeah, well, like I said—I’ve known far less about someone that I’ve taken home from a nightclub to fuck, and I’m sure you’ve done the same. Offer stands,” Jeongguk says cheerfully. “Good night, Jimin-ssi.”

He lets the door fall shut. Jimin just gapes until he finally comes to his senses, plugging in his code and tumbling into his apartment. He rushes to find his phone and fires off a text:

JIMIN [9:35PM]
Jeongguk just fucking offered to sleep with me

TAE [9:35PM]
WHAT.

HOBI [9:35PM]
Uh, that’s not the text I was expecting on a peaceful subway ride home

TAE [9:36PM]
Babe, we have to fuck when you get home

Jimin and I fake-fucked to bother Jeongguk 

And apparently it worked

HOBI [9:36PM]
You did WHAT?

I leave you two alone for ONE night

JIMIN [9:37PM]
He called Tae good-looking and then just dropped a bomb on me

Said to give him a chance

Am I living in an alternate universe? Is this a bad Hallmark movie?

HOBI [9:38PM]
Tell him to stay away from my boyfriend or I’ll chop off his dick 😘

TAE [9:38PM]
OK well fake fucking obviously worked ;)

So take him up on his offer, since you admitted you want him

JIMIN [9:39PM]
I was lying

TAE [9:40PM]
No you weren’t ❤️

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

[mood: “buy me presents” by sabrina carpenter] 

It’s Monday afternoon, only one week until Christmas, when Jimin runs into Jeongguk yet again in the building lobby after his work shift. This time, Jimin is the one in the elevator when he sees Jeongguk approaching with a backpack slung over one shoulder and his black helmet in the other hand. He considers rapidly pressing the button to close the doors faster, but he inwardly groans and decides to be a good person. He holds the door.

“Hurry up,” he calls out, and Jeongguk breaks into a jog, looking just as surprised at Jimin’s choice to hold the elevator as Jimin is.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jeongguk says as he walks into the elevator and leans against the opposite wall. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“I… yeah,” Jimin says, caught off-guard as he stares at Jeongguk. His motorcycle jacket is unzipped, and Jimin can see a lanyard hanging around his neck and resting against his black sweater: JEON JEONGGUK. ART TEACHER. And the lanyard pattern, with its green and gold colors, is for City of Seoul School of the Arts, the most prestigious school for students in grades seven to twelve for art, music, dance, and media. CSSA is illustrious and known for producing some of the best artists in the country, and the teachers are supposedly the cream of the crop.

Jeongguk is a fucking art teacher? For teenagers?

“You have lines on your face,” Jeongguk notices. “Mask wearing? Do you work in healthcare?”

“Pharmacist,” Jimin says shortly, and Jeongguk hums in interest, tracing his bottom lip with his tongue as the elevator reaches their floor and the doors open. He uses his helmet to hold the door open, and Jimin exits first in silence, Jeongguk falling into step beside him.

“That’s a tough field of work,” Jeongguk comments. “So do you have a doctorate?”

“You’d sure hope so,” Jimin retorts, and Jeongguk grins. “Hope you have your teaching degree.”

“You’d sure hope so,” Jeongguk parrots without actually confirming whether or not he’s a teacher. “Any plans for Christmas?”

“Visiting my parents in Busan,” Jimin answers reluctantly, and Jeongguk pauses with a look of surprise on his face.

“Oh? What’s this? Are you from Busan, too? I knew we’d be good friends,” he says with a wink in clear-as-day satoori, and Jimin clenches his jaw, hating what a turn-on it is to hear familiar slang from his childhood. Of course Jeongguk is from Busan. That only adds to the nightmare he’s created by moving in next door to Jimin.

“Isn’t school already out for the holidays?” Jimin asks, redirecting the conversation as they approach their apartments.

“Yeah. Last Friday. But we have meetings,” Jeongguk emphasizes, rolling his eyes. He seems so normal like this, and it’s jarring. He’s been the neighborly fuck-boy for about three weeks now, so picturing him with such a normal job is bizarre.

“Mm. Wednesday is my last day,” Jimin says, knocking his knuckles against his own apartment door. “Long Christmas break.”

“What’s a long Christmas break for a pharmacist?” Jeongguk wonders, and Jimin snickers humorlessly.

“I go back to work on the twenty-seventh,” he replies. “Apparently people still have the audacity to need me 365 days a year.”

“How dare they?” Jeongguk says, snickering as he punches in his keycode. “Is the pharmacy close by? Do you sell condoms? Lube?”

“You know what? For ten seconds, I thought you were normal,” Jimin replies, and Jeongguk shows all of his teeth with his eyebrows raised as he smiles the smile of a man who knows he’s being a menace. 

“You might need them,” he says with a wink, and then he vanishes into his apartment without another word.

Jimin has no idea what he means until later that night.

He’s already in bed, phone on its charger, his book set aside, and the lights turned off. He’s wearing just an oversized t-shirt and underwear, his favorite pajama combination, and he’s only just begun to sink into his pillows when he hears Jeongguk.

More specifically, when he hears Jeongguk moaning. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jimin whispers to himself in disbelief. How the hell had he not heard Jeongguk inviting someone over? Had he been too caught up in his music and his nighttime routine to hear the door open and shut? After all that flirting in the elevator (at least, Jimin assumes it was a poor attempt at flirting) and the open offer for sex, Jeongguk still invited someone over?

The only problem is that Jimin doesn’t hear anyone else—he only hears Jeongguk. So whoever he has over must not be a very vocal lover. And to be honest, that’s Jimin’s preference. If he has to put up with this shit for the foreseeable future, he’s willing to bargain with Jeongguk to make his partners shut up, because Jeongguk’s moans are less… jarring.

Or maybe Jimin just likes hearing them. But nobody else needs to know that.

And he’s sure hearing them now. It feels like Jeongguk is lying in the bed next to Jimin, because Jimin can hear every sharp intake of breath, and he’s wide awake. He’s barely blinking, because Jeongguk’s little gasps and soft moans are…

A turn-on. They’re a massive, regrettable turn-on.

Jimin tries to block it out like a good neighbor. Just let it go. He’s Elsa at this point, and his bedroom is his kingdom. He can totally block it out and hope that it’s over—

“Fuck… Jimin, baby, please…”

Jimin freezes. His hands curl into fists on his chest as he clenches his jaw in horror, because surely he misheard. There’s no way that Jeongguk is moaning his name in the middle of having sex with someone else—

“Jimin… oh, God…”

Nope. That’s real. He’s moaning Jimin’s name. 

Jimin can hear Jeongguk’s heavy breathing. He can hear the sound of… oh, Christ. That’s way too wet of a sound to be anything other than—

“Fuck,” Jimin whispers to himself, kicking his feet under the blankets like a petulant child. “Shit, shit.”

Because of course he’s getting hard. Why wouldn’t he be? His hot neighbor is moaning his name after literally propositioning him for sex the other day. There’s no way around it. Jimin can’t believe his own audacity as his hand drifts to his groin, where he sets his hand over his cock and squeezes in an attempt to stop the arousal, but it only makes things worse. He chews his bottom lip and rests his free fist on his forehead in agony, contemplating his next move, but he’s only prolonging his pain, because clearly his next move is to jerk off.

So he does. He starts slowly, almost like he’s teasing himself, because Jeongguk is suspiciously quiet. Jimin dazedly swipes his thumb over the tip of his cock and tries to manage his breathing, and that’s when he hears a small but sharp breath on the other side of the wall, followed by the same lewd noises that have Jimin’s head spinning. His hand speeds up as he works himself to full hardness, lifting his hips to meet his own hand.

Jimin, baby, please…

It was muffled when Jeongguk said it, but Jimin heard it loud and clear, so he uses it as fuel to his fire. He squirms, a small breath of pleasure slipping out of his mouth as he lifts his hips again to meet his own rhythm. The orgasm is building fast in the pit of his stomach, coiling up in tendrils of heat and dangerously similar to the open fires that all the Christmas carolers croon about.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Jeongguk chokes out, and Jimin silently agrees, trying not to think about how the other day, he noticed how big Jeongguk’s hands are and how long his fingers are. Those fingers inside him… Christ, Jimin can only imagine—

“I’m coming,” Jeongguk says in a strangled voice, and so is Jimin, once again. It’s one of the most intense orgasms he’s given himself in a while, and he knows it’s because it’s been too long since he’s let himself openly feel this kind of pleasure. He’s so lost in it that he doesn’t realize he’s lost control of his limbs and that he’s kicked the wall until it’s too late.

“No, no, no, no,” Jimin whispers breathlessly for only himself to hear, cum all over his hand and stomach as he lies perfectly still. He doesn’t hear anything from Jeongguk, so waits, hoping that maybe the noise went unnoticed. In slow motion, as if the pace of a sloth will help him undo the shame of orgasming that hard, he reaches over to his bedside table and grabs some tissues to wipe away the evidence. Just as slowly, he rolls off his bed and directly onto the floor, crouching and listening intently, but it’s still quiet. He tiptoes to the bathroom, washes his hands—

And then he hears a loud knock on the door.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, shit,” Jimin curses as he stumbles out of the bathroom in a post-orgasmic stupor. Oh, this is bad. This is bad. He has to answer the door. Jeongguk knows he’s home. There’s no way around this. Frantic, Jimin does the only thing he can think of—he grabs his phone, grabs a pair of gym shorts and hops towards the front door while pulling them on, his heart still pounding, and then he stifles a squeak.

Not the cum, oh, Christ.

Tripping over a chair, he lunges for a towel in the kitchen and lifts his t-shirt so he can wipe his stomach one more time for good measure, mortified that there was enough cum leftover to get onto the fabric. It’ll have to be sweat. He can lie about it. With gusto, he chucks the towel onto the countertop, and then he reaches for the front door and answers.

“It’s late, you asshole. What do you want now?” he says in exasperation, but then he freezes. Jeongguk is standing there in a hoodie and sweatpants, the hood up, looking cozy and comfortable and the exact opposite of what Jimin expected.

“What were you doing just now?” Jeongguk asks instantly. “Heard a bang against my wall. Was I being too loud again?” He juts out his lower lip on purpose, eyes sparkling with mischief. Jimin hates him. He hates Jeon Jeongguk.

He also kind of wants to hear Jeongguk moan his name again. But anyway!

“What were you doing?” Jimin accuses, throwing it back in Jeongguk’s face. “Oh, sorry. I can guess. It’s not polite to moan someone else’s name when you’re in the middle of sex.”

“Oh, I don’t have anyone over right now,” Jeongguk says cheerfully, leaning against Jimin’s door frame. Can he stop doing that?! Jimin almost lifts a foot and kicks him so that he’ll topple over and cease to look like the December calendar man.

“Sure sounded like it,” Jimin replies, eyes narrowed.

“No, no,” Jeongguk insists, a smile spreading across his face. “I was all by myself. Going solo, so to speak. Needed to get it out of my system. What about you, hm? What were you doing? It’s freezing outside, and here you are in… this.” He eyes Jimin head to toe. “You look a bit flushed and out of breath, Jimin-ssi.”

“I was working out,” Jimin blurts out, and then he rolls his shoulders back to commit to the lie. “Is that a crime?”

“Oh, sorry, were you doing mattress aerobics? At half past ten o’clock? Give me a break,” Jeongguk replies with a laugh. “I know exactly what you were doing.”

“Yes, working out,” Jimin confirms, nodding. “Nice night for it.”

“What workout were you doing? I’m looking for a new home workout,” Jeongguk says with enthusiasm. “You seem pretty fit. Show me which one you were doing.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Jimin replies, fishing for his phone in the pocket of his gym shorts and going straight to YouTube. Home workout, he types into the search bar as Jeongguk watches, and he scrolls to put on a show and picks the fourth one down. “This one.” He turns his phone.

“Yeah? That one? You typed in ‘home workout’!” Jeongguk exclaims with a laugh. “It doesn’t even have that red bar to show that you’ve been watching it!”

“Well, I was,” Jimin replies stubbornly, locking his phone. “Really great workout. I’m beat. Gotta stay fit for Christmas, you know?”

“If you were in here doing an at-home workout barefoot with a random-ass video from YouTube at ten-thirty at night, I’ll pay your rent for an entire year,” Jeongguk bargains, and his words shut Jimin up instantly. He blinks at Jeongguk. Opens and shuts his mouth a few times. Clicks his tongue.

“Well—Well, that doesn’t prove anything, because I would never let you pay my rent,” Jimin says, but Jeongguk talks over him almost immediately.

“You wouldn’t jump on the chance of not having to pay rent? Give me a break. You’re just a good boy with good morals and you can’t lie or scam anyone, including me, so you weren’t doing a workout,” Jeongguk declares. “You were in your bedroom, you heard me through the wall moaning your name while I was getting off, and you decided to join in. Don’t play dumb.”

“Oh, please. You know nothing. I’m gonna finish my workout now. Good night!” Jimin chirps, saluting Jeongguk awkwardly and then slamming his door shut. The belly laugh that Jeongguk lets out from the other side of the door almost makes Jimin smile. Almost. Then he remembers that Jeongguk is his mortal enemy, so he forgets about smiling and returns to his room, reeling. 

Jimin has had good sexual partners before. He’s had boyfriends before who have satisfied him. But why, of all times and of all people, is Jeon Jeongguk the man who’s currently doing it for him? Is the universe playing a sick joke on Jimin? He’s great at getting himself off when he’s flying solo. He knows his spots. He knows what he likes and what feels good. What he doesn’t appreciate is the fact that hearing Jeongguk moan and curse his name repeatedly through the wall got him so worked up that his orgasm made him see stars. And Jeongguk admitted to being alone and jerking off with Jimin on his mind.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jimin says out loud to absolutely no one, standing in the middle of his bedroom and staring at his bed. He can never jerk off again. He can’t even face his sex toys now. The humiliation of being called out so blatantly by the man who made Jimin come that hard is too much. He’ll have to resort to using the shower now. That’s his only hope. He can never be horny in his own bed again as long as Jeongguk lives next door.

Jimin: 2. Jeongguk: 2.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

One night. Any time, my place or yours, whenever. That’s the offer. And it’s an open offer. No expiry date.

Jimin almost impales himself on a Christmas tree near Gangnam Station when he leaves work on Tuesday. At this point, anything would be less painful than the nonstop horny thoughts in his head.

The thing is, he’s refusing Jeongguk’s offer on principle. He’s doing it to spite himself. If he gives in and accepts Jeongguk’s offer, then Jeongguk will be smug about it and will think that he’s won, and Jimin is not a loser. In fact, he’s a renowned dick curator, carefully selecting what should go inside of him at any given time. A one-night stand once told Jimin that his ass belonged in a museum, so it makes sense for Jimin to be selective. He doesn’t want to be just another one of Jeongguk’s minions. He doesn’t have the time or energy for that.

But he also hasn’t been laid in months, and he’s reaching a point of desperation. 

And Jeon Jeongguk, his hot neighbor with a Harley Davidson and tattoos and piercings and a cocky smirk, is offering to dick him down whenever. He finds Jimin attractive enough to have made the offer, and Jimin is this close to caving.

It’s an ideal offer. Jimin craves human closeness almost always. Physical touch is easily his top love language, and knowing his partner finds him attractive is a huge turn-on. And maybe he doesn’t want to admit it to anyone just yet, but the idea of sleeping with Jeongguk and then falling into a state of awkwardness for the foreseeable future just feels… empty. It feels strange. It’s as if Jimin already knows that he won’t be able to stay away or go back to being just neighbors if he agrees to go through with this.

So he consults an expert.

“Do not,” Jimin emphasizes, holding up his finger even though he’s alone, “say a word about this to Taehyung. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Hoseok says on the other line, because he’s at home and Taehyung is still out working. 

“I’m serious, hyung. Don’t even do the thing where you swear you won’t tell anyone but then you tell Taehyung only and make him promise to keep quiet,” Jimin warns as he enters his own apartment, and Hoseok lets out a laugh.

“No, no, I really promise. I feel like this is going to be about your hot neighbor. Did you do something? Did you finally fuck him?” Hoseok asks, sounding excited and eager simultaneously. Jimin heaves a sigh, kicking his shoes off.

“No, but I’m… you know what? Fuck it. I’m actually considering it,” he admits.

“Oh-ho! He confesses!” Hoseok calls out, delighted.

“Shut up, not so loud!” Jimin hisses. “Just—What do I do? I know he’ll be home tonight, unless he has plans. Do I just go over there and offer myself up like a sacrifice? Or do I make him come to me? Or do I just not do this?”

“Oh, no, you’re definitely doing it. You need to. You need a little bit of adventure and Christmas cheer,” Hoseok replies in a playful tone. “What’s stopping you?”

“What’s stopping me is that he’s a cocky bastard who knows that he gets under my skin and we’ve been going back and forth for over two weeks now almost every day,” Jimin rambles. “I have so many more pranks I want to pull on him, but I’m also fucking over it and I want—well, whatever.”

“Jimin, I have to be honest—” Hoseok stifles a laugh. “I haven’t seen you get this worked up over a man in years. Jeongguk must really be worth it. Or are you just bored and horny?”

“I’m not bored. I’m… God, I don’t know why I’m focusing on him when I should be focusing on Christmas next week,” Jimin complains, pinching his brow as he settles onto the couch. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Fuck him.”

“Hyung, I called you so you could talk me out of it,” Jimin says weakly.

“Jimin, babe, this is not a situation where I’m gonna talk you out of it.”

“But don’t you think it’ll make things awkward?”

“How so?”

“What if it doesn’t go well?” Jimin hypothesizes. “What if the sex is terrible and we still have to live next door to each other?”

“You just avoid each other like the plague. No big deal,” Hoseok says like it’s nothing. “Either that or he’ll be so ashamed of his stroke game that he’ll move out and spare you the pain. You’ve clearly been there longer, anyway. At least Jeongguk is a step up from your old neighbors.”

“Hardly,” Jimin grumbles, but he’s lying. His old neighbors were a young couple who argued seven days a week and broke dishes and slammed doors. There was never any sexual activity to worry about in their bedroom because they were too busy fighting.

“Okay, well, my advice is to just swallow your pride and do it. Be Santa’s good boy and go be a ho, ho, ho,” Hoseok says, and he bursts out laughing when Jimin groans. “No, wait, I have more. Let him jingle your balls. Make it the opposite of a silent night. You’re now Jimin the Red-Nosed Queer-deer. It’s time for him to trim your tree. Let him deck your halls—”

“I’m blocking your number!” Jimin calls out, but he lets Hoseok hear him laugh before he dramatically hangs up. He does send a quick text message immediately with a heart, though, and Hoseok returns the heart.

Jimin fights the urge through dinner. He brushes his teeth with a scowl on his face. And then he grips his sink on either side and stares at himself like his reflection is going to put up a fight. He wants to give himself a pep talk— Jeongguk wants to sleep with you. Yeah, sure, that will do it. Jimin blows out a breath and stands up straighter, fixing his blonde hair and even using a bit of product just to make himself feel better. His hair falls exactly how he wants it to, so he then decides to put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt—something simple and casual, but better than his raggedy t-shirt and sweatpants.

What if he changes his mind? What if he already has someone over? What if he thinks I’m trying too hard? What if it sucks? What if…?

Jimin has always been an overthinker. His anxiety adds a touch of character to his overall personality—that’s what he tells himself, at least. He’s focused at work and always lauded by his employer and anyone who walks through the doors of the pharmacy, but it’s mindless work and it gives him time to worry about everything else in his life. And right now, the fact that he can barely even focus on Christmas because he’s fixated on solving his Jeongguk problem says it all. 

So Jimin takes all of his worries and flips them around as he presses his palm to his own front door: He won’t change his mind. He doesn’t have anyone over right now and if he did, he’d make them leave for me. He won’t think I’m trying too hard because he’s the one who offered. It definitely won’t suck.

He opens his door and steps into the hallway, decisively leaving his phone behind. If Hoseok does end up snitching on him, he doesn’t need Taehyung blowing up his phone with questions while he’s trying to get laid. So he stands in front of Jeongguk’s door empty-handed and without shoes on, hesitating nervously before he knocks with a heavy fist. He hears footsteps, and then the door opens.

“Hello, neighbor,” Jeongguk says with a pleased grin when he sees Jimin.

“Let me in,” Jimin demands, but then he meekly adds, “Please.”

Jeongguk steps back without a word and opens the door further to invite Jimin in. “Something wrong?” he asks. He looks cozy as usual in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and Jimin is mad at it. He’s furious, mostly because he’s a weak, desperate little man and he’s about to give in and sin like a heathen. Santa is going to drop-kick him from the Nice list to the Naughty list so fast.

“I’m taking you up on your offer,” Jimin says, tilting one of Jeongguk’s bar stools for no reason other than a distraction and then pivoting to face a very surprised Jeongguk. His eyebrows are raised, hands in his hoodie pocket. But he looks smug beneath the shock, and Jimin wants to die of embarrassment.

[mood: “love language” by ariana grande]

“Oh? And what offer is that?” Jeongguk asks.

“You know exactly what offer, don’t play with me,” Jimin snaps with an exasperated exhale through his nose. He sets his hands on his hips. “Once. One time. You get to fuck me one time, and that’s it. Just to get it out of our systems so we can move on. So that if I ever hear you fucking someone else up against our shared wall, I’ll just gag and cringe at it.”

Jeongguk snickers, shuffling toward Jimin in slow motion. “Just once? You think we’ll be able to resist each other after this?”

“Oh, aren’t you sure of yourself,” Jimin goads, rolling his eyes. He lifts one hand and holds up a finger at Jeongguk. “Once. If you think you’re such a god in bed, then you better walk the walk, because you talk a lot, and I’m sick of you hitting on me when you barely know me.”

“There’s this thing called mutual attraction, Jimin-ssi. You’ve clearly had one-night stands before. You already know me better than any of those, surely,” Jeongguk says in singsong, inching closer. “Personally, ever since I saw that mystery man leaving your apartment, I can’t stop thinking about seeing you naked and wondering what you sound like when… well, you know.” He shrugs. Jimin clenches his jaw.

“Yeah, well, Merry Christmas,” he says shortly. He’s talking faster because he’s nervous, and he can’t stop it from happening. “You can unwrap me like your little present. And just so we’re clear, I’m going to give you absolutely nothing unless I feel like it’s worth my time, since you’ve been cocky about this for days. So you have your work cut out for you.”

“I like a challenge,” Jeongguk says with a grin, shoving his hood down and ruffling his messy black hair. Christ, he’s so beautiful. Jimin wants to rip off all of his clothes and touch. That’s what makes the whole situation even more infuriating. “And I like you, in case that wasn’t obvious. You’re pretty as hell, you have an important job and a doctorate, and you must do well for yourself if you’re living here and driving a Mercedes. You’re funny, too. I like a bit of sass.”

“Are you done?” Jimin asks, because he can’t think of anything else to say. He’s taken aback by Jeongguk’s straightforward rambling, because how in the world does Jimin’s neighbor have that much of a positive opinion of him when all Jimin has done is bang on his wall and interrupt his sex life and argue with him?

“For now,” Jeongguk says, his grin widening. “My apologies. You were saying that this is a one-off thing. Please continue.”

“Right.” Jimin takes a deep breath, crossing his arms. “Just to get it over with. We fuck and then I leave, and you better be quieter with your sexual escapades, or I’ll file noise complaints.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Jeongguk airily agrees. “Tell me your limits.”

“Just straight up sex. No kink play,” Jimin blurts out, trying not to blush. He’s probably failing, but whatever. No time for shame right now. “No choking, no bondage, no spanking, no degradation, nothing. That’s not reserved for you, anyway.”

“Are you saying you’re into that kinda thing otherwise?” Jeongguk asks, raising one eyebrow and biting his bottom lip as he eyes Jimin head to toe.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jimin fires back. “Do we have a deal? Yes or no?”

“Obviously, yes,” Jeongguk says without hesitation. “I didn’t think you’d ever take me up on this offer, but I did say any time, so sure. Let me just…” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, chewing his bottom lip as he types, the screen illuminating his face. He seems to send a text, and then he sets his phone on the kitchen countertop. “There. Canceled all my plans tonight. Now we can get started.”

“Aw. Such a gentleman,” Jimin teases, and then Jeongguk is just right there. He’s toe-to-toe with Jimin, and he’s about two or three inches taller than Jimin is, so his gaze is downward, and it drives Jimin crazy. 

“So you’re going to give me nothing, and I have to impress you,” Jeongguk says, amused. “Is that how this is going to go?”

“Yup. Go ahead,” Jimin says, pretending he doesn’t know the can of worms he’s about to open. 

“Do I have your permission to touch you?” Jeongguk asks, lacing his fingers together and cracking his knuckles as he stares Jimin down.

“Sure.”

“Do I get to kiss you?”

“Debatable.”

“Debatable?” Jeongguk lets out a laugh. “You look like that and have lips like that and you want—okay. Alright, alright. Fine. Where can I kiss you, then, if you’ll let me?”

“Anywhere else,” Jimin says with a noncommittal shrug. It’s probably his first of many mistakes, though, because Jeongguk’s grin widens again.

“Perfect.” Without hesitation, he leans back and shucks his sweatshirt, tossing it to the floor so that he’s just in a white t-shirt. There’s no reason for the gesture to be as attractive as it is, but Jimin is in too deep. He keeps his arms crossed as Jeongguk begins to slowly circle him, a move that makes Jimin’s heartbeat quicken—a predator with his very willing prey. That’s what it feels like. As Jeongguk rounds one shoulder, his hand grazes Jimin’s stomach and hip, fingers dancing along the fabric of Jimin’s shirt as Jimin tightens every muscle in his body.

“How do you feel about pet names?” Jeongguk asks in a low voice in Jimin’s ear. Jimin almost collapses to the ground, because this is exactly what he’s been so desperate for—that voice in his ear giving him attention, talking for only him to hear. Jeongguk pauses behind Jimin, and his hands settle on Jimin’s hips, his chest pressing against Jimin’s shoulder blades. He’s gentle but purposeful and he’s teasing, and Jimin feels out of his mind already.

“Depends on the name,” he manages to say in an even voice, uncrossing his arms subconsciously when Jeongguk’s fingers crawl beneath his shirt to touch his skin. 

“Okay. I’ll try out a few,” Jeongguk murmurs, bending and leaving a feather-light kiss behind Jimin’s right ear. “You’re so beautiful, which means I have several in mind. You just tell me no if you hear one you don’t like.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” Jimin says quickly, closing his eyes, glad that Jeongguk can’t see him. Beautiful. That’s a nice one.

“How about… baby?” Jeongguk whispers, fingers wrapping around Jimin’s hips. He pauses, but Jimin says nothing. “Okay. What about… babe?” He kisses the juncture of Jimin’s neck and shoulder. “Sweetheart?” His right hand splays across Jimin’s stomach, his left hand’s fingers slipping into Jimin’s left pants pocket. “Darling? Is that one okay?”

“Sure,” Jimin breathes, because now he’s shivering inwardly. Jeongguk’s right pointer finger is tracing the waistband of his pants.

“What about if I call you ‘doll’?” Jeongguk asks, and this time, Jimin can’t control himself. Doll. Easily his favorite pet name. He has no idea why that one does it for him, but it always gets him hot and bothered, and hearing Jeongguk say it is his tipping point. He inhales sharply through his nose before he can stop himself, and Jeongguk notices. “Mm, okay. You like that one. Noted. Also, it goes both ways. I don’t mind being called any of those pet names, either.”

“Great,” Jimin whispers senselessly, because now Jeongguk’s left arm is wrapped around his waist firmly, and his right hand is tilting Jimin’s chin up and back so that Jimin’s head is resting on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“So that’s all okay with you, doll?” Jeongguk whispers, kissing the underside of Jimin’s jaw. “Just want to make sure.”

“Yeah, just hurry up,” Jimin blurts out, clenching his jaw.

“No, no, no. I can’t hurry up,” Jeongguk says with a little giggle, brushing his nose against Jimin’s cheek playfully. “Not with you. I want to take my time, if that’s okay with you. Let me just…”

He grabs the bottom hem of Jimin’s shirt and begins to pull, so Jimin lets it happen. He lifts his arms up, and Jeongguk removes his shirt and lets it fall to the floor. Immediately, he circles around to the front and grabs Jimin by the hips again, staring.

“How do you feel about being marked up?” he asks, his voice slightly strained, eyes trained on Jimin’s face. “I promise I’ll be a good boy for Santa if you say no, but, uh…” He blows out a sheepish breath, and Jimin’s ego shoots through the roof upon finding one small weakness, one crack in Jeongguk’s confident facade—his body. It feels shallow, but it’s further confirmation that Jeongguk finds him physically attractive, and although it’s a given in light of their current situation, it feels good to be admired and appreciated, and Jimin can’t deny that he’s into being marked up. He can’t withhold that from Jeongguk.

“That’s fine,” he whispers, and it’s likely his second mistake, but it’s a good one. Jeongguk reaches up and runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair, tilting his head back again and then bending again to press a kiss to Jimin’s throat that forces Jimin to grab Jeongguk’s biceps to keep from toppling over. Jeongguk isn’t done, though, because he kisses down Jimin’s neck to his collarbone, sucking roughly at the skin and moving to Jimin’s chest. His inhale is ragged, and Jimin’s breathing is heavy now.

“How am I doing so far?” Jeongguk asks with a soft smile, catching Jimin’s eye and circling to stand behind him again. “Am I still all talk?”

“Not bad,” Jimin breathes. “Not…”

Jeongguk’s fingers nimbly unbutton Jimin’s jeans, and the gesture is so small but so effective that Jimin almost forgets to inhale. His heart is racing now, and his hands are cold and clammy from adrenaline, but he can’t give in too soon. He’s accepted that he’s the loser here, since Jeongguk has already had his lips on Jimin’s skin and has seared several pet names into Jimin’s brain, but he doesn’t need to wear the title that proudly.

“You know what I think?” Jeongguk whispers. “I think you’re fighting against it too much. You came over here, you know. If you just relax, Jimin-ssi, you might actually have fun with this. You know I can make you feel good, baby. I won’t let you down. And I want you…” His fingers flutter across Jimin’s stomach again. “To make me feel…” Two fingers trace a line from Jimin’s belly button down his happy trail to the waistband of his underwear. “Just as good.”

“Shit, fuck it, just—”

Jimin yanks himself out of Jeongguk’s arms, spins on his heels, takes Jeongguk’s face between his hands, and kisses him. It’s graceless and rough and exactly what Jimin said he wouldn’t do, but Jeongguk matches his energy. He pulls hard on Jimin’s hair with one hand and grips the back of Jimin’s neck with the other hand, licking into Jimin’s mouth until their tongues meet, his teeth catching Jimin’s bottom lip and tugging as a gasp escapes the back of Jimin’s throat. As Jeongguk leaves bruising kisses against Jimin’s lips, his hand leaves Jimin’s hair and begins to work at Jimin’s pants while they stumble together, a conjoined mess of staccato breaths and quiet curse words.

“I thought—you didn’t want—me to kiss you.” Jeongguk’s tone is teasing as he shoves Jimin’s pants down to his thighs, and Jimin grabs the waistband of Jeongguk’s sweatpants with shaking hands.

“Honestly, I just want to get this over with,” Jimin lies breathlessly, lifting one foot after the other to remove his pants, and Jeongguk’s hands are all over him in an instant. “I want you to fuck me so hard that—” He shoves Jeongguk away and kicks his pants off— “That you don’t get your stupid security bond back. Stop teasing me and—” He grabs the front of Jeongguk’s t-shirt and pulls, and Jeongguk removes it with haste. 

That’s the third mistake.

“So that's it,” Jimin says flatly, still catching his breath. “You really look like this. You just walk around looking like this?”

“Is that a good thing?” Jeongguk asks, raising one eyebrow as he swings his arms, his lips looking a bit swollen from the rough kissing. His chest is defined, his waist is slim, he has two full sleeves of tattoos, and Jimin is filled with nothing but misplaced rage, because Jeongguk is the kind of man that he fantasizes about in his free time. Every inch of him is Jimin’s type when it comes to physical looks and sexual attraction. And now Jimin is greedy.

“Do I really want to go into your bedroom?” Jimin asks as Jeongguk loops both arms around Jimin’s waist again. His hands immediately land on Jimin’s ass to press their bodies together, and his tongue-between-his-teeth grin is painfully attractive in ways Jimin cannot possibly describe.

“That’s where the magic happens, sweetheart. Unless you want to follow through on your previous statement and fuck in the kitchen with, uh… sesame oil, was it?” Jeongguk says in a questioning tone, cocking his head to the side as his grin grows, tongue sticking further out of his mouth as Jimin groans.

“Don’t ruin the mood,” he insists, even though he’s aroused to a point where he’s dizzy, and he needs to see what Jeongguk is packing. He needs the sweatpants off.

“I’d never,” Jeongguk whispers as he slides his hands away from Jimin’s ass and settles beneath Jimin’s thighs, pulling. Jimin takes the hint and wraps his arms around Jeongguk’s neck, and Jeongguk hoists him up and lets Jimin wrap his legs around his waist, ankles crossed.

“Do you think this is impressive?” Jimin asks as Jeongguk slowly walks towards his bedroom.

“Kind of. I can fuck you like this too, if you want,” Jeongguk offers, using his shoulder to push open his bedroom door. He wastes no time in laying Jimin down on his bed with a gentle kind of reverence Jimin hadn’t expected—Jeongguk cradles the back of Jimin’s head before it hits the pillows, and he leaves a kiss on Jimin’s lips for good measure. But Jimin rockets upright to a seated position and glares at the bed and the shared wall. Being single means having a bed that’s pushed up against the wall, and that’s exactly what both Jimin and Jeongguk have done. Jeongguk’s bed is separated from Jimin’s bed only by that singular wall.

“I’m gonna rearrange your furniture,” Jimin threatens.

“Can I rearrange your insides first?” Jeongguk asks with a shit-eating grin, kneeling on the bed and hovering over Jimin.

“That was a cringe line,” Jimin says, even though he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but you’re smiling,” Jeongguk points out, shifting off the bed and slowly pulling his sweatpants down. Jimin scowls, but he moves to the edge of the bed and leans back with his palms on the mattress, enjoying the show. With Jeongguk only in his underwear now, Jimin finally has a visual. He finally knows what this part of the debauchery looks like. He’s on the bed in the very position the others have been in, and he wants to ruin Jeongguk’s sex life.

What he means is, he wants Jeongguk to never be able to think about having sex with anyone else ever again. Because he’s greedy.

Jimin can see that Jeongguk is about to say something, but he interrupts it by reaching out, grabbing Jeongguk by the hips, and pulling him close as Jeongguk stumbles and catches himself with his hands on Jimin’s shoulders. Maybe Jimin was fighting it before, but he can’t fight it now. He has one shot at this, and he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. He’s going to wring as much pleasure out of this night as possible until he has nothing left to give and nothing more to take.

“What…?” Jeongguk begins to say, but then he falls silent when Jimin leans in and presses a kiss directly to Jeongguk’s abdomen, hooking his fingers in Jeongguk’s underwear. In one swift motion, Jeongguk is naked before him, and Jimin wants to thank the Academy and Santa Claus and maybe a few reindeer for good measure, specifically Vixen. Unfortunately—or, perhaps fortunately, for Jimin’s future pleasure—Jeongguk is exactly what his past partners have moaned about. His cock is thick and fully hard against his stomach, a sheen of pre-come already gathering at the tip, and there’s a slight and subtle curve to it that makes Jimin want to cry in joy.  

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jeongguk gasps out as Jimin wraps his lips around Jeongguk’s cock and circles his tongue around the tip. Relaxing his throat, Jimin takes Jeongguk deeper, hollowing his cheeks, and then his nose is brushing Jeongguk’s stomach. He takes his sweet time pulling off almost all the way, and then he sinks back down as Jeongguk moans. One hand threads through Jimin’s hair, and Jimin half-expects Jeongguk to force his head up for eye contact, but it’s the opposite. Jeongguk forces Jimin’s head down gently but purposefully, and Jimin gags, shivering in pleasure and squirming on the bed, close to drooling.

“I didn’t exactly—shit… I didn’t think you’d…” Jeongguk trails off, but he’s not stopping Jimin. He’s guiding Jimin’s head and setting a rhythm, and Jimin is trembling as he grips Jeongguk’s thighs and puts his mouth to work. Maybe he’s a goody-goody, but every time he’s heard nonsense from the other side of the wall, it’s been the other partners receiving pleasure. Jeongguk might be quieter about it, but Jimin wants to hear it for himself.

“Y-You know what? You really do have a mouth on you,” Jeongguk says as Jimin gags again but continues, wrapping a few fingers around the base of Jeongguk’s cock to stroke him in time with the way his mouth is moving. “In more ways than one. God, baby, that’s so fucking good. Feels incredible.”

Jimin pulls off, gasping for breath. Dizzy with pleasure, he strokes Jeongguk’s cock with his hand as he glances up, heart stopping when he sees Jeongguk staring down at him.

“I want you to tell me to be good for you,” Jimin requests, feeling like he’s slurring his words. “Tell me that.”

“Why?” Jeongguk whispers.

“Because I’ve heard you say it to the others. And I want to fucking hear it, too,” Jimin admits shamelessly with a bit of a bite in his voice. Jeongguk snickers and uses one hand to grip Jimin’s chin.

“I feel like I should probably ask if you’re older or younger than me before I continue,” he says, and Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I’m twenty-nine,” he says. Jeongguk grins, licking his lips.

“I’ll call you ‘hyung,’ then, with your permission,” he says, and Jimin’s heart drops into his ass. Hyung? Jeongguk is younger than him? Christ, he should have known. He should have fucking known, he’s absolutely doomed— “Since I’m twenty-seven. Is that okay? Can hyung be good for me?”

“Shut up,” Jimin whispers, but it comes out with a bit of a moan behind it, and he’s mortified for a moment. But Jeongguk’s cock twitches in his hand, which spurs Jimin on instead of shaming him. He wraps his tongue around the tip of Jeongguk’s cock again, dipping into the slit to tease, and Jeongguk lets out a soft moan of approval.

“I don’t know, darling. You’re already doing so well…” Jeongguk thrusts into Jimin’s mouth, hitting the back of Jimin’s throat with a pleasure-filled sigh. “So I know for sure that you can be good for me. Right? Isn’t that right, hyung? You’ll be good for me.”

“Thanks,” Jimin gasps out, feeling absurd and out of his mind when Jeongguk’s hand finds the back of his head again. He’s thanking Jeongguk for—

“You have to stop,” Jeongguk insists. “I’ll come before I even get to be inside you, baby, and that’s not happening. Come here. God, you’re so good.”

Jeongguk climbs onto the bed and kneels between Jimin’s legs, and as he bends down to trail kisses down Jimin’s sternum, he reaches over to his bedside table and pulls open the drawer, rummaging and emerging with lube and a condom. Jimin just lets his legs fall open as he licks his lips, breathless at the sight of Jeongguk stroking his own cock while drinking Jimin in beneath him.

“I haven’t even fucked you yet and you already—” Jeongguk’s laugh is breathy and amused. “I wish you could see yourself right now. The way you look.”

“If you like the way I look now, wait until you see me on top of you,” Jimin teases, feeling brave now that Jeongguk is massaging his inner thigh with one hand.

“Yeah? Bet you’ll look beautiful riding me,” Jeongguk says in a low voice as he bends and kisses the center of Jimin’s chest, moving downward until he’s using his teeth and his fingers to remove Jimin’s underwear. Jimin feels his cock twitch helplessly the second Jeongguk’s eyes are on him, and he tenses and lets out a strangled moan, lifting his hips when Jeongguk bends down and licks up the shaft of Jimin’s cock right to the tip.

“Knew you’d sound beautiful,” Jeongguk murmurs as he grabs the lube. “You sound like a dream.” He pops the cap of the lube and drizzles some onto his fingers, rubbing it repeatedly so it’s not cold. “Legs open, doll. Eyes here.”

Jeongguk’s eyes burn into Jimin’s as his left hand glides down the length of Jimin’s right leg, and the way he hitches Jimin’s leg up onto his thigh with such confidence is like a visual orgasm. Jimin lifts his hips just enough, breath quickening, and he throws one arm across his face when one of Jeongguk’s lubed fingers teases his rim. The first finger pushing past the tight ring of muscles has him gasping and clenching, teeth gritted, but Jeongguk coaxes him through it, free hand massaging Jimin’s hip as he whispers that Jimin can take it, that he feels so good, that he’s doing well.

Jimin’s next mistake is thinking in a state of bliss that this is exactly what he’s been craving. Because that reckless mindset is what turns him on even more. He got his hot neighbor into bed. His hot neighbor’s long fingers are inside him now, two of them, and they're stroking up against a spot that’s making Jimin see stars and leak pre-come onto his stomach. His toes are curling. The noises of pleasure tumbling past his lips are out of his control. Jeongguk is leaving bruising kisses along his neck and chest that are sure to mark.

Does Jimin regret his current position? Yes. Does he feel nothing but the Christmas spirit of giving as he writhes beneath Jeon Jeongguk? Also yes. Does that spirit cancel out the regret? Totally yes.

Once Jeongguk is three fingers deep and has Jimin in near tears, it seems he’s decided that they’re both ready. Jimin watches, propped up on his elbows, as Jeongguk rolls the condom on and uses some extra lube to slick himself up, his eyes fixed on Jimin.

“Are you okay to keep going?” Jeongguk asks as he positions himself over Jimin. Startled, Jimin nods. 

“I thought my legs being wide open made it pretty obvious,” he jokes, and Jeongguk’s smile in response has Jimin’s heart racing. Jeongguk reaches down and adjusts the pillow that he slid beneath Jimin’s hips while fingering him open, trails his hand down the inside of Jimin’s thigh, and scoots closer.

“Then just relax,” he says, his voice hypnotizing. “I’ll make you feel amazing, baby. Relax for me. Be good.”

“Shut up,” Jimin says in nothing more than a breathless whisper, and then he feels the tip of Jeongguk’s cock pressing at his rim. His breath catches in his throat the moment Jeongguk pushes into him, but he grits his teeth and takes it, because Jeongguk is going slowly to allow time for Jimin to get used to being so full.

Given the way that they both riled each other up in the foreplay stage, Jimin expects the same banter the moment Jeongguk bottoms out inside of him. But Jeongguk is silent, save for the sharp inhale of breath he takes into the crook of Jimin’s neck. Jimin shivers, feeling Jeongguk’s fingers dance down his leg from knee to thigh, and when he grips Jimin’s thigh tightly, Jimin’s eyes roll back.

Jeongguk starts to move. It’s slow at first, like he’s testing the waters, but once he finds a rhythm and he has a good grip on Jimin’s thigh in one hand, hair in the other, there seems to be no relenting. Jimin lifts his hips to meet Jeongguk’s thrusts immediately, one hand firmly behind Jeongguk’s neck and the other scratching down his back. It’s hard to explain exactly how good it feels to have Jeongguk inside him and fucking him, but all of Jimin’s sarcastic comments and self-deprecation fly out the window. It feels incredible. It’s otherworldly. Every synapse in Jimin’s brain is firing. The arousal is clouding his mind.

Jimin moans and clenches around Jeongguk when Jeongguk presses his knee further into his chest, and his arm shoots out and hits the bedroom wall. That’s the wall—the wall they share. They’ve only just gotten started and Jimin is already out of his mind, palm smacked up against the wall in a state of pleasure, back arching off the bed because Jeongguk is fucking him so deeply that the tip of his cock is brushing Jimin’s prostate with every thrust, only adding to the insurmountable pleasure. Jimin’s vision is blurring now, and all of his inner bravado about stamina and being able to hold out is slowly dissipating. He claws at Jeongguk’s chest and shoulders, gasping, unable to form coherent words or demands or requests.

“Jeongguk,” he finally chokes out, and with a particularly rough thrust, Jeongguk slows down, rolling his hips and using his grip on Jimin’s hair to tilt Jimin’s head back far enough to expose his throat. Jimin catches his breath as Jeongguk leaves bruising kisses down the column of his neck, releasing Jimin’s leg and freeing his hand to trace down Jimin’s sternum.

“What is it, beautiful?” Jeongguk rasps breathlessly, and goosebumps erupt across Jimin’s skin. Beautiful is not a pet name they agreed upon earlier, but there it is again.

“I…” Jimin swallows heavily, and he tries to speak up and be as self-assured as he was ten minutes ago, but the words aren’t stringing together into sentences.

“We just started,” Jeongguk murmurs with his lips pressed to Jimin’s chest, and he remains inside of Jimin as he kisses down towards Jimin’s stomach, leaning back as much as he can. With ease, he slips both hands beneath Jimin’s back and coaxes him upright, and Jimin moans, immediately grabbing Jeongguk’s shoulders and bracing himself. With Jeongguk kneeling on the bed and Jimin now fully seated in his lap, Jimin’s fingernails dig into Jeongguk’s skin, because he feels impossibly full, like the air has been knocked out of his lungs.

He’s lost control. Might as well own it!

“Go ahead,” Jeongguk says in a strained voice when Jimin circles his hips only once. Spurred on, Jimin leans back just enough to press one hand to Jeongguk’s knee, his other arm slung around Jeongguk’s neck. The room is stifling. The air is already thick with tension mixed with arousal, and as Jimin begins to ride Jeongguk with as much finesse as he can muster, he makes the mistake of making eye contact.

Jeongguk smirks at him and slides his hand between their bodies. When his large hand wraps around Jimin’s cock, the first stroke is heavenly, and every stroke after that is euphoric. He applies just the right amount of pressure and keeps his eyes on Jimin’s face, and Jimin knows he should probably feel humiliated from how close he is to an orgasm already, but it feels so good. He wants to come. He needs to come. 

“G-Gonna—I’m gonna— ah,” Jimin chokes out, punctuating fragments with moans as he plants his feet into the mattress and begins to ride Jeongguk with wild abandon, all shame forgotten. When Jeongguk’s free hand grabs his ass to encourage the rhythm and spread him at the same time, Jimin responds by grabbing a handful of Jeongguk’s hair, his other hand flying out to brace against the wall. That wall. He doesn’t care anymore. If Jeongguk can make him come in five minutes, then fine. So be it.

“I’m gonna fuck you through it, baby,” Jeongguk says through gritted teeth, his hand still working around Jimin’s cock. Surely he can feel Jimin’s body trembling from head to toe. Surely he can feel the way Jimin is clenching around him in desperation. “Come on… that’s it… little more…”

Jeongguk leans in and presses his lips to Jimin’s throat, and with a final flick of his wrist, Jimin comes undone. His gasp is mixed with a helpless cry as he smacks the wall, head falling back and hips stuttering as the orgasm consumes him. The intensity of it is unlike anything Jimin has ever felt before, blood like fire in his veins as he spills between the two of them. And true to his word, Jeongguk doesn’t relent. He fucks Jimin right through it without ever letting up his pace, even when Jimin is close to tears and begging him to stop. 

“Stop?” Jeongguk whispers, politely checking. Jimin shakes his head, betraying his own desperate pleas. “Keep going?” Jeongguk asks instead, and Jimin nods, his stomach coiling with simultaneous pleasure and overstimulation.

Jeongguk lays Jimin back and slowly pulls out, and Jimin considers protesting, but then two large hands are flipping him over onto his stomach. Dizzy, Jimin immediately grabs the blankets with both hands as Jeongguk tugs on his hips, and Jimin can hear the rustling of another condom wrapper being opened. Jeongguk’s thumb grazes over his hole, using the lube as he pushes his thumb in and spreads Jimin again.

“Can you take more?” Jeongguk asks, his low and slightly hoarse voice scratching every itch in Jimin’s brain imaginable. With a frantic nod, Jimin pushes his hips back further, a silent command for Jeongguk to get on with it. Jimin hasn’t been fucked like this in months, maybe even years. Maybe ever. He wants as much as he can take. He wants to take until he’s exhausted and utterly spent, unable to move or think straight.

Jimin lets out a moan, forehead dropping against one arm as Jeongguk teases against his hole with the tip of his cock. He’s using Jimin’s cum as extra lube for the new condom now, and the very thought has Jimin hard again, his stomach pulling taut with arousal as he holds his breath. With ease, Jeongguk pushes back inside him until his hips are flush against Jimin’s ass.

There’s no need for excessive communication. Jimin wants to be fucked silly. Jeongguk wants to come. It’s mutually beneficial, isn’t it? So when Jeongguk grabs Jimin’s hips and begins to fuck him roughly, Jimin lets out a stream of jumbled curse words, his entire body jostling, head hanging as he takes it. He arches his back more, hoping that Jeongguk is enjoying the view and how tight he probably is from this angle.

“Fuck, you really are going to ruin this for me,” Jeongguk says breathily, leaning forward to cage Jimin in and kissing down the length of his spine. When his hand splays across Jimin’s stomach, Jimin cries out with several choice curse words, because he might not be able to, but the idea that Jeongguk possibly could feel himself inside Jimin fucking him this deeply is too much for Jimin to handle. He’s leaking pre-come everywhere. Jeongguk’s rhythm is sloppy now as one of his hands crawls up Jimin’s back. When he grabs a fistful of Jimin’s hair and pulls, Jimin gasps.

“Fucking make me come already,” he manages to blurt out. “Fuck, Jeongguk, come on.”

“You already came once, darling. Don’t be greedy,” Jeongguk warns in a playful tone of voice. He wraps both of his arms around Jimin’s waist, and Jimin nearly collapses as Jeongguk falls backwards onto the pillows. Suddenly, he’s lying on his back with Jimin facing away from him, and he grabs Jimin’s hips again.

“You said to wait until I could see you on top of me,” Jeongguk says, running both hands down Jimin’s ribs to his hips again. “Show me, doll. Go ahead.”

And now it’s Jimin’s time to shine. He’s going to make Jeongguk regret ever teasing him or flirting with him. He’s going to make Jeongguk want him. He’s done begging. Now he can show off, so Jimin plants his knees into the mattress and sets both hands on Jeongguk’s thighs.

Ten seconds. Roughly ten seconds. That’s all it takes for the tables to turn. Jimin begins to ride Jeongguk again, making sure that Jeongguk can see his cock disappearing again and again inside Jimin with every thrust. He throws his head back in pleasure, feeling Jeongguk deep inside of him, and Jeongguk becomes the greedy one in a heartbeat.

“Oh, God, look at you,” he moans, his fingers leaving indents on Jimin’s hips. “Fucking hell, you’re— fuck, that’s good. That’s so good, so—keep going, keep going. God, I’d give anything to come inside you—”

Jimin stops abruptly and digs his fingernails into Jeongguk’s skin. “Shut up and come,” he demands, and Jeongguk’s laugh is thick with pained arousal. 

“Keep riding me and I will,” he replies. “Can’t remember the last time I came like this.”

Is that a challenge? Jimin almost asks, but he bites his tongue and focuses on the task at hand. His thighs are burning and he’s panting, a trickle of sweat running down his spine, but he’s determined, and his cock is hard against his stomach as he rides Jeongguk. If he had the coordination, he’d jerk himself off at the same time. But he’s trembling violently from the impending orgasm already, and from the idea of Jeongguk getting off on what he’s currently doing.

Sparks of pleasure ripple through Jimin’s entire body as he fucks down onto Jeongguk’s cock over and over again, heat flooding his stomach and rising up into his chest, legs shaking. He’s out of control. Nothing has ever felt this good before. The noises escaping Jimin’s mouth should be embarrassing, but he makes a point of letting them all out, loud and reckless, the pleasure mounting yet again. Even if he wanted to stop, he can’t. Jimin feels a burning desire to give, to take everything Jeongguk has to offer until he collapses. Better yet is that he can feel Jeongguk’s cock pulsing inside of him, thick and hot and reaching every spot where Jimin needs him. Jimin isn’t the only one enjoying this, and he wants Jeongguk to come. He wants the orgasm to be so earth-shattering that no other sexual partner will ever fulfill Jeongguk’s needs the way Jimin can.

“That’s good, that’s good, that’s it, shit, fuck, fuck—!” Jeongguk roughly thrusts up into Jimin, jostling him roughly as Jimin cries out in surprise and catches himself on the wall. He rolls his hips once more, but that’s all he can do. Jeongguk pounds into him with gritted teeth and a few gasps, and then his body tenses up. He grinds into Jimin, fingernails scratch the sides of Jimin’s thighs, and Jimin knows he’s just come. He can feel it, even with the condom.

Jimin’s first instinct, despite being exhausted and out of breath, is to run away. But Jeongguk’s arms wrap around his waist, and Jimin topples over onto his side, Jeongguk still inside him and spooning him, their bodies glued together. Jimin can feel Jeongguk’s heart pounding against his back. He can feel Jeongguk’s ragged breath on the nape of his neck. And then he feels a soft kiss at the top of his spine, and his desire to bolt suddenly evaporates.

“Am I still all talk?” Jeongguk whispers, nuzzling between Jimin’s shoulder blades.

Yeah. You’re all talk. Wasn’t that great. Lies bounce around in Jimin’s head, but he’s simply too tired to keep up the facade. With his eyes closed, heart pounding, he takes one of Jeongguk’s hands, lifts it up closer, and kisses his knuckles. It’s not exactly a gesture of peace, but it’s something, at least.

“No,” Jimin whispers. “That… That was good.”

“Just good?”

“Do you survey all of your other fuck buddies with your dick buried in them?” Jimin asks, but he giggles at his own words, pleased when he feels Jeongguk laughing as well.

“No. But it took a lot of hard work to get you here, so it’s worth asking,” Jeongguk murmurs, and Jimin rolls his eyes. He reaches behind himself and smacks Jeongguk’s hip, and Jeongguk takes the hint and carefully pulls out as Jimin winces. Jimin immediately rolls onto his stomach and catches his breath, head turned to face the bedroom wall as he feels the bed dip. Jeongguk walks away for a moment, but he returns with a cold, wet washcloth from the bathroom.

“You look like a model,” he comments, staring down at Jimin when Jimin turns his head to see what’s happening.

“Don’t be fooled. I just have a nice ass,” Jimin jokes dryly, and Jeongguk snickers and offers the washcloth. He’s still fully nude, so as Jimin wipes himself down, he lets himself appreciate the man who just fucked the life out of him and made him orgasm twice.

“You should agree with me.” Jeongguk raises one eyebrow. “You look like a model. Your answer is…?”

“Damn right I do.” Jimin balls up the washcloth and hands it back, and Jeongguk grins, tossing the washcloth with one hand into the bathroom as he crawls onto the bed.

“So, that was it?” he asks, falling onto his side and propping up on one elbow with his head against his hand. “Just one time? You sure about that?”

“I’m sure.” Jimin reaches down and grabs his underwear. “Now it’s out of our systems. We won’t want to jump each other’s bones in the hallway. All fucked out. Now you can leave me alone.”

“It’s really cute how you think now I’ll leave you alone,” Jeongguk says, reaching up and tapping his pointer finger on Jimin’s nose with a grin. Jimin swats him away, nearly toppling over as he tries to wiggle into his underwear. “I told you that I like you. Does that count for anything?”

“Give it a rest, Jeongguk,” Jimin says, rising to his feet with his underwear on now. “It was a one-time thing. You can go back to all your other, uh… friends.”

“Mhm. And what about you?” Jeongguk sits up and dangles his legs over the edge of the bed, watching Jimin get dressed. “Are you gonna go back to your friend?”

“I might,” Jimin lies with a shrug. He freezes, though, before stepping into his jeans. “Um, I should probably ask you… yeah. Do you need anything?”

“Meaning what?” Jeongguk cocks his head to the side.

“I don’t know. Aftercare. Cuddling. Talking. Whatever you like to do after sex,” Jimin says, clutching his jeans close to his body. “Sorry. I didn’t ask that before I got up.”

Jeongguk’s smile is sleepy, soft, and definitely fucked out. He’s one of the most beautiful men Jimin has ever met, if he’s being honest with himself. There’s a charm to Jeongguk that Jimin can’t quite pinpoint—maybe it’s just his natural aura. He’s a pain in the ass and he never misses a beat in banter, but he’s also quite… sweet? Is he sweet? Jimin won’t say it out loud, but he’s certainly something.

“I’m okay,” Jeongguk says. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll just… take a hug or something before I walk out of here,” Jimin replies without making eye contact, glancing around Jeongguk’s room now that he has a chance to appreciate it without being horny. It’s nothing special—just a typical single Korean man’s bedroom. He has mood lighting, though, and there are paintings on his walls. Jimin has to wonder if Jeongguk is the artist of any of them. He’s never even bothered to ask about Jeongguk’s profession.

“I give great hugs,” Jeongguk brags, rising to his feet and searching the floor for his own underwear. Once he has it on and Jimin is dressed, Jeongguk opens his arms, the same proud grin on his face. Jimin makes a point of rolling his eyes, which earns him a laugh as he walks into Jeongguk’s embrace.

“Thanks for the offer,” Jimin mumbles. “Now can we please coexist in peace? No more fucking after midnight. I need my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need sleep for your beauty, I can tell you that for free. But sure. I’ll keep it down just for you, Sleeping Beauty,” Jeongguk says softly, one hand slowly rubbing Jimin’s back. “My previous neighbors used to steal my packages and vandalize my door because they found out I was bisexual, so you’re a massive step up.”

“That’s…” Jimin pulls away. “Well, fuck them. I hope their apartment is infested with termites.”

Jeongguk snickers. “You and me both.” 

There’s a moment of awkward silence as they both stand facing each other, Jimin’s back to the bedroom door because now is the time for him to run. But his feet are glued to the floor, because he feels like he has a thousand things to say to Jeongguk but absolutely no coherent way to say much of anything. Jeongguk, though, seems to know how to break the ice, because he grins and reaches forward to nudge Jimin, scooting past him towards the door.

“Thanks for taking me up on my offer. Not to be dramatic, but that’s easily the best sex I’ve had recently,” Jeongguk compliments shamelessly. “So I’ll just extend the offer.”

“Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin starts, but Jeongguk is already laughing his way into the living room. Jimin follows.

“I’m serious,” Jeongguk says, swinging his arms casually as he glances over one shoulder at Jimin. “Knock on my door whenever. I’d go again. I’d go again right now if you weren’t ready to jump out the window to escape my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna jump out the—shut up,” Jimin interrupts himself, and Jeongguk laughs again, leaning against his kitchen countertop now as Jimin picks up his t-shirt and quickly pulls it on. “I’m leaving. Good night, Jeongguk.”

“Good night, hyung. Think about it!” Jeongguk calls out as Jimin yanks open the door. “Open offer. No expiration. It’s either that, or you go on a date with me.”

Jimin almost faceplants onto the hallway floor. “Go on a what?” He pivots sharply, eyebrows raised.

“A date. You know, the thing two people do if they like each other,” Jeongguk says with a little shrug.

“You can’t just spring that on me after what we’ve just done when I have one foot out the door,” Jimin snaps in a state of disbelief. “We’re not going on a date. Are you crazy?’

“I’m nothing if not ambitious. Do you have any nice things to say about me?” Jeongguk asks, grinning mischievously with both elbows on the countertop now. “Since you won’t go on a date with me.”

Jimin scoots back into the apartment and lets the door fall shut. His heart leaps into his throat as he marches up closer to Jeongguk and sets his hands on his hips, sharply exhaling as he surveys the man who just saw him in the throes of passion and heard every wanton moan that left his mouth.

“Your stroke game is a solid ten,” Jimin compliments flatly, and Jeongguk snorts with laughter as he prepares to accept the praise, but Jimin adds in a jumbled mess, “You’re good-looking and you make me laugh but you’re a pain in the ass, and what we just did doesn’t mean that you’re winning.”

“That I’m—hang on, wait, wait, wait,” Jeongguk says through his laughter, grabbing Jimin’s arm as Jimin tries to leave. “Winning? Winning what?”

“The game.” Jimin blinks and says nothing further. He’s teetering on the edge of humiliating himself. Luckily, though, Jeongguk looks highly amused.

“Game? Game of what? Are you keeping score or something?” he asks, and Jimin shrugs furtively.

“We’re tied right now. Jerking off and moaning my name was a dirty trick, so I gave you a point for that. But I’ll make a comeback. I’m not done ruining your sex life. Good night!” Jimin chirps, mortified as he runs for the door and yanks it open, slipping into the hallway as Jeongguk’s laughter follows him. He can even hear it as he punches in his code and tumbles into his own apartment.

He just had sex with Jeongguk. He just had sex with his neighbor.

His mind racing, Jimin rushes into his bedroom, because he wants to take a shower. Not like that will erase the feeling of Jeongguk’s hands gripping his waist or the feeling of Jeongguk’s cock buried deep inside of him, but it’s a start. He has to try something.

But as he’s undressing with shaking hands, he hears a knock on the bedroom wall.

“Good night, hyung! Sleep well!”

It’s still 2–2. Jimin refuses to budge.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

It was definitely only supposed to be once.

So when Jimin finds himself standing outside of apartment 1103 the next evening, he feels like a fool. It’s Wednesday night. Jimin spent his entire dinner eating in silence, waiting to hear someone in the hallway, Jeongguk’s laughter, a door opening and closing. Signs that Jeongguk has someone else over.

It’s been quiet.

Jimin knocks on Jeongguk’s door with his head turned away like that will help soften the blow. He’s just going to pitch his idea to Jeongguk and hope for the best. Just one more time. That’s it—

“Hey, stranger.” Jeongguk opens the door and peeks out, and Jimin’s idea goes whoosh! Right out of his brain. He’s staring at a man in a baggy black t-shirt and gym shorts with a baseball cap on, and it’s doing things to him that he wasn’t expecting. When Jeongguk uses his thumbnail to gently scratch his nose near the sparkling stud he has in it and then pinches his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger briefly, Jimin promptly remembers that he had those fingers inside him last night.

“Do you have any ramyeon?” Jimin blurts out, crossing his arms. Jeongguk raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as he fails to hide his grin.

“Uh, are you asking for actual ramyeon, or is this a proposition?” Jeongguk asks, because he’s reading Jimin like a book.

“Just ramyeon,” Jimin lies, so Jeongguk opens the door further.

“Sure, sure. Come on in. I’ll show you what I have,” he says, tilting his head. Jimin nods and scoots into Jeongguk’s apartment, watching as Jeongguk shuffles toward his cupboard and opens it up to reveal a shelf full of different types of ramyeon—a true Korean, born and bred. No surprises. Jimin has the same exact thing in his own apartment, and he doesn’t fucking need ramyeon. He needs railing, and he needs it now.

“Which kind?” Jeongguk asks politely.

“Buldak is fine,” Jimin decides on a whim with a shrug. Jeongguk grabs two packets and uses his hip to shut the cupboard, and then he approaches Jimin while juggling the ramyeon without missing a beat. One by one, he hands the packets over and sets his hands on his hips expectantly.

“There you go. Ramyeon,” Jeongguk states. Jimin purses his lips and knocks the two ramyeon packets together. “Did you want another kind?”

Jimin groans and uses the ramyeon to cover his face before bunching both packets in one hand and shoving them back into Jeongguk’s chest. “I didn’t come here for ramyeon. I don’t even need it, for Christ’s sake.”

“Well—” Jeongguk tosses the packets onto his countertop. “All you had to do was say so. But I just wanted to see how far you’d take it. What is it that you really want, Jimin-ssi?”

“I’m not gonna stand here and humiliate myself by spelling it out for you,” Jimin sighs, and Jeongguk stifles a laugh.

“Well, if you don’t spell it out for me, darling, how am I going to know what you actually want?” he asks in singsong, retreating toward his living room area as he swings his arms back and forth. Jimin watches with a clenched jaw as Jeongguk crouches down by his coffee table and begins to gather up a bunch of papers into their respective file folders, and they’re not just regular papers—some of them have exorbitant amounts of color on them.

“What’s all that?” Jimin asks before he can stop himself. Jeongguk glances up, flicks his eyes down to the papers, and then shrugs.

“Work stuff. Not important right now.” He closes the file folders. “Are you gonna tell me what you want, or are you going to make me guess?” Jeongguk hoists himself up and approaches Jimin again, adjusting his baseball cap. “Personally, I’m hoping that you’re here to tell me that you had fun last night and you want to do it again. Once was definitely not enough with you. I have a long list of terrible things I want to do to you.”

Jimin almost says, “Well, then get to it,” but he hesitates, mostly out of guilt. He’s the one here to ask for sex and he’s being a bit of a brat, isn’t he? It takes two people, after all. Maybe he should throw Jeongguk a bone this time.

“I want you to fuck me from behind this time,” Jimin says bluntly. “And be rougher with me. I like a man who’s not afraid to smack me around in bed.”

[mood: “good in bed” by dua lipa]

Jeongguk raises one eyebrow, stepping forward and using his thumb and pointer finger to hold Jimin’s chin in his hand so their gazes meet. At first, Jimin thinks that maybe there’s a bit of a dominating sparkle in his eyes, but he quickly realizes that it’s not that. The sparkle in his eyes is one of confidence; he looks self-assured, like he knows as well as Jimin does that no matter what they do in the bedroom, it’ll end up being an unholy and very not silent night.

And Jimin loves it.

There’s a strange adrenaline rush that floods his body for a second time—the thrill of being with Jeongguk. He’s not exactly the “bad boy” stereotype Jimin has seen depicted in high school dramas. It’s just the way Jeongguk carries himself and navigates intimacy that makes him exactly what Jimin wants. Jimin has confidence, but in the bedroom, he needs someone to be his equal and match his energy. 

Jeon Jeongguk matches his energy.

“Does that mean you’ll let me spank you, or should we hold off on that until next time?” Jeongguk asks.

“Who says there will be a next time?” Jimin retorts.

“Well, seeing as last night you said there wouldn’t be a next time…” Jeongguk plucks the baseball cap off his head and pops it onto Jimin’s head with a grin. It should be annoying, but Jimin’s body betrays him, and he can feel his cock twitching already, half-hard and highly interested in what Jeongguk is doing.

“You fucker,” Jimin says, throwing the hat at Jeongguk with no gusto. Jeongguk laughs, lunges forward, and grabs Jimin’s hand, pulling. Jimin groans dramatically and pretends to pull away, but Jeongguk is strong, and Jimin is getting exactly what he wants, so he’s not putting up a fight.

“You know…” Jeongguk pivots and brings Jimin into his arms once they’re in the bedroom. “This would be so much easier if you just admitted that you’re attracted to me and that we’re good together.”

“Absolutely not,” Jimin replies cheerfully, but Jeongguk isn’t deterred.

“What I mean is that we’re good in bed together. Because it was only once, bu-u-u-ut…” Jeongguk toys with the bottom hem of Jimin’s shirt. “I know I’m not the only one who felt the connection. We fuck well. And we’re gonna do it again.”

“So get undressed and let me suck you off,” Jimin says impatiently.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Jeongguk replies, and then he removes Jimin’s t-shirt before pulling off his own. Jimin can’t help himself—the second Jeongguk is shirtless, he reaches out and presses his hands to Jeongguk’s chest, running them over Jeongguk’s shoulders and down his arms.

“Did you design your tattoos?” he asks curiously, eying both full sleeves. Jeongguk hums.

“Most of them, yeah,” he replies. “You know who would look great with tattoos?”

“Don’t even start,” Jimin says with a weak laugh as Jeongguk’s fingers trace over some of the marks that he left on Jimin’s neck and collarbone. Jimin covered some of them with make-up before going out to get coffee this morning.

“Sure, sure.” Jeongguk kicks off his pants and brushes his fingers beneath Jimin’s chin playfully, but before he can lean in for a kiss, Jimin pushes him down onto the bed, too nervous.

He can’t just kiss his neighbor.

Instead, Jimin drops to his knees between Jeongguk’s legs and gets to work. He has Jeongguk’s cock in his mouth within seconds, and he has Jeongguk’s hand fisting his hair soon after. With each tug, Jimin becomes more eager. When Jeongguk pushes his head down and Jimin gags, it only makes him more aroused. Jimin considers making Jeongguk come and then forcing him to get it up a second time, but he decides against it. He wants a little bit of an edge to it tonight. He wants Jeongguk to be desperate.

And he is—Jimin loses the upper hand quickly, because when Jeongguk undresses him and gets him on his hands and knees, he doesn’t do it to finger Jimin in preparation. He presses his tongue to Jimin’s hole, and Jimin collapses with a shout and has to force himself back up onto his hands and knees. 

“Oh, that was so worth it. Come here. Sit on my face, pretty boy,” Jeongguk says with a teasing lilt in his voice, and Jimin thinks Christmas has come early. Trembling with excitement, he straddles Jeongguk backwards as Jeongguk lies down, and when he feels two strong hands pulling on his hips, he knows his wish has come true. The last time a man was eager to have Jimin sit on their face was… maybe never.

Jeongguk, though—Jeongguk is eager.

He has his tongue deep inside Jimin within minutes, and Jimin is a mess. He rides Jeongguk’s tongue with his fingernails digging into Jeongguk’s thighs, grinding down with tears in his eyes (tears!) as he searches for what he wants. Jeongguk licks and sucks and eats Jimin out like his life depends on it, and Jimin braces himself on the bedroom wall again when Jeongguk slips a finger in alongside his tongue. Jimin has lost his shame. He’d punch a hole through the wall at this point without feeling sorry about it, and it’s only been twenty-four hours since their last compromising position.

“You fucking—drive me— crazy,” Jimin gasps out, riding Jeongguk’s tongue so hard that he’s afraid he’s going to hurt Jeongguk’s beautiful face. But Jeongguk doesn’t even come up for breath. He has lungs of steel, because he wraps his arms around Jimin’s thighs and sends his tongue deeper, and that’s what does it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck, oh, shit,” Jimin curses through his moans, too out of his mind to even touch himself as he comes. He has no control over it, and the intensity of it makes him see stars. And he’s certain that Jeongguk has quickly figured out that overstimulation is one of Jimin’s favorite things, because Jeongguk lifts Jimin off of his face and places him on his knees, kissing the small of his back as he rolls on the condom and slicks up his cock, his thumb still playing with Jimin’s hole.

“Are you okay?” Jeongguk checks, placing another kiss on Jimin’s spine.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, come on,” Jimin begs, so Jeongguk listens. He lines himself up and pushes into Jimin, cursing quietly as Jimin moans.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight,” Jeongguk curses, fingertips leaving imprints on Jimin’s hips. “Holy shit. Shit, you’re absolutely perfect.”

“Just fuck me,” Jimin pleads breathlessly, and Jeongguk does. He fucks Jimin from behind roughly, just as requested, nails scratching down Jimin’s back as Jimin’s legs shake in pleasure. When Jeongguk presses forward to cage Jimin in completely, Jimin’s head lolls to expose his neck, and Jeongguk is right there, his lips pressed to Jimin’s skin hot and heavy. His arm wraps around Jimin’s waist as his thrusts become harder and sloppier, and he gasps and grunts out staccato curse words in Jimin’s ear.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t do it. I can’t last long,” Jeongguk rasps, slowing his pace and grinding against Jimin as Jimin chokes on a small sob of pleasure. “I can’t, I can’t… You’re… God, you’re too good, you’re…”

“Jeongguk, please,” Jimin whispers, his head spinning. “Touch me. Do something. I’m begging you.”

Sweat trickles down Jimin’s spine when Jeongguk pulls his hair, forcing his back to arch and the moan to lodge against his throat. Jeongguk’s thrusts are in a circular motion first, and then he’s fucking Jimin at a torturously slow pace, dragging his cock in and out of Jimin along every single nerve Jimin has. Jimin’s vision is clouded with arousal, and so is the air in the bedroom. They started off at such an unforgiving pace, and now that they’ve stopped, the overwhelm is choking them both.

“Touch me,” Jimin whispers again, shivering when Jeongguk’s fingers graze his stomach. Breath quickening, Jimin waits to feel exactly what he wants, and when Jeongguk’s hand wraps around his cock, he throws his head back and moans. “Yes, yes, there, like that.”

Jeongguk was right—he doesn’t last long. In fact, he comes before Jimin does, engulfing Jimin as he gasps and latches his teeth onto Jimin’s shoulder. Even as he’s catching his breath, he coaxes a second orgasm out of Jimin, still inside him. When he’s sure Jimin is absolutely spent, he collapses, trapping Jimin beneath him on the bed with one hand tangled in Jimin’s hair, his heart pounding against Jimin’s back as he leaves soft, feather-like kisses along Jimin’s ear and neck. It takes some effort, but Jimin grunts and rolls onto his back, still lying beneath Jeongguk.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asks, his skin flushed from exertion as he stares down at Jimin while licking his lips. His hair is a mess, his cheeks are tinged pink, he has red lines along his skin from Jimin’s fingernails, and the only thing missing is kiss-bitten lips. So Jimin slips his hand behind Jeongguk’s neck and yanks him down for a kiss to solve that problem.

“What?” Jeongguk whispers against Jimin’s lips between kisses, but Jimin doesn’t stop. He kisses and kisses and kisses and takes, and Jeongguk seems to be trying to take just as much, because one of his free hands wanders down to pin Jimin’s left hip to the bed. 

Jimin doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t reply to Jeongguk. He just presses his tongue into Jeongguk’s mouth and soaks up Jeongguk’s little breaths of pleasure and the way he grinds down onto Jimin with each kiss. His hand pushes Jimin’s legs apart so he can fit between them. His other hand’s fingers brush over Jimin’s nipples. He sucks on Jimin’s tongue and reaches between Jimin’s legs, and Jimin lets out a helpless whimper, trembling. 

It’s a mystery to him how he’s still aroused, but Jeongguk is an addiction, and Jimin is craving a fix. Two orgasms wasn’t enough. He wants to be touched until he’s numb. He wants everything Jeongguk has to offer, and right now, he’s not ashamed of it. He lifts his hips with a good grip on Jeongguk’s hair, and Jeongguk’s fingers trace his rim before he sinks two of them inside Jimin, curling them.

“Oh-h-h-h,” Jimin moans, head falling back as Jeongguk kisses the column of his neck roughly. Jimin’s entire body is shaking now, eyes rolling back as Jeongguk gently strokes his long fingers inside Jimin, pressing up against every sensitive spot as his teeth latch onto Jimin’s neck so he can suck a mark there. Neither of them are saying a single word, and Jimin isn’t sure if it’s because they’ve run out of things to say, or if they’re both too shocked by the post-sex fingering to speak. Regardless, Jimin writhes in Jeongguk’s arms, back arching off the bed, and Jeongguk’s other hand disappears between them so he can jerk himself off. It’s quiet but purposeful, his face still buried in Jimin’s neck.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” Jimin sobs when he feels the orgasm building in the pit of his stomach.

“I’ve got you,” Jeongguk whispers. “I’ve got you, doll. Come again for me. Go ahead. Let go, baby. Go ahead.”

Jimin listens. He loses his ability to even speak as his eyes roll back, toes curling, knees jerking helplessly as he orgasms dryly, stars exploding around his vision. Somewhere in the midst of the euphoric high, he feels warm cum dripping on his stomach, which means Jeongguk came as well.

“Jimin hyung?”

Jimin is floating somewhere between Heaven and Earth when he hears Jeongguk’s voice in his ear. He finds the strength to hum, and Jeongguk slowly pulls his fingers out of Jimin and leaves a kiss on his jaw.

“Am I winning now?” he whispers, and because his lips are still against Jimin’s cheek, Jimin feels him smiling.

“For now… yes. Unfortunately,” Jimin murmurs. “But I’ll take the lead soon. Next time you have someone over, I have a game plan. You’ll never know peace again.”

Jeongguk says nothing. Jimin can feel him let out a soft laugh, but that’s about it. He doesn’t offer a rebuttal. In fact, Jimin thinks that Jeongguk attempts to roll them so they can cuddle, but Jimin is fast. He wiggles out from beneath Jeongguk and runs to the bathroom to clean himself up, his hands shaking as he does, and he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His blonde hair is a mess. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, pupils blown. His cheeks are flushed red, his lips are swollen, he has bruises and red marks all over his neck and chest, and there’s a very distinct bite mark on his shoulder.

He hasn’t been fucked this well in his entire life. He hasn’t been taken care of in bed like this in his entire life.

So if he runs out of Jeongguk’s apartment with nothing more than a quick “Thank you” and a hurried embrace without letting Jeongguk get a word in edgewise, he only has himself to blame. Santa sees him when he’s sleeping and knows when he’s awake, after all. And he surely knows that Jimin has been bad.

But Jimin gave up on being on the Nice List the moment he stepped foot in Jeongguk’s apartment.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

[mood: “a nonsense christmas” by sabrina carpenter]

Jimin winds up back at Jeongguk’s apartment the next night, too. 

He tries so hard not to, but when he caves and knocks, Jeongguk pulls him in by the waist and kisses him all the way to the bedroom without a single protest. Jimin rides Jeongguk like his life depends on it, and again, he runs away afterward.

It’s on Friday night, long past midnight, when Jimin knocks on Jeongguk’s door again. He has no shame left in him. He’s wound up and he can’t sleep and the anticipation of having to travel to Busan is stressing him out. Coupled with the fact that he still hasn’t told Taehyung that he’s slept with Jeongguk three times already, Jimin considers also that he hasn’t heard anyone else visit Jeongguk’s apartment since Tuesday night when Jimin had first knocked.

It feels like Jeongguk is always waiting for him.

And Jimin doesn’t really want to think about the ramifications of that. This was supposed to be a ridiculous rivalry between his godawful neighbor and him, but said neighbor is… not so awful when he doesn’t have company over every night. Besides, this is the first consistent instance of human intimacy Jimin has had in a long time. A few days ago, he was fake-fucking Taehyung to get under Jeongguk’s skin. Now, all he wants is to be skin-to-skin with Jeongguk.

It’s mildly surprising when Jeongguk answers the door, especially when Jimin sees that he has a PS5 game controller in his hands.

“I can’t sleep,” Jimin croaks, squinting in the bright lights of the hallway.

“Okay…” Jeongguk says slowly, narrowing his eyes. Jimin’s tongue is tied in a knot, but luckily for him, Jeongguk steps in and saves him from embarrassment by opening the door wider. “Come in, hyung.”

Jimin shuffles into the apartment. He’s surprised to see a suitcase in the living room that’s open and halfway packed. There are still two motorcycle helmets perched on the footrest of the couch like before. And he’s definitely a bit late, but there’s a miniature Christmas tree with colorful lights resting on the coffee table that wasn’t there yesterday. Whatever game Jeongguk was playing is paused now, but Jeongguk quickly saves his progress and shuts off the console and the TV.

“I need to go to bed, anyway,” Jeongguk says with a shrug. “Uh, unless you’re here for…”

“No.” Jimin shakes his head, avoiding eye contact.

“Okay. Um, I snore when I sleep. Fair warning,” Jeongguk says as he shuffles towards his bedroom and glances over one shoulder expectantly at Jimin.

Jimin follows.

In fact, he crawls right into bed alongside Jeongguk without a single word, because he fears that if he speaks, he’ll embarrass himself. He knows that Jeongguk probably has a thousand jokes, but to his credit, he swallows down… most of them.

“Is this better than the mattress aerobics you were doing the other night?” Jeongguk whispers when they’re lying in the dark and Jimin is curled up on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Without a word, Jimin lifts his hand and smacks Jeongguk’s chest, and Jeongguk snorts with laughter, scooting closer to Jimin. “Sorry. I’ll just wait for you to call me Daddy instead.”

“You are literally the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” Jimin hisses. “Do you ever quit? Seriously.”

“I’m going to figure out which pharmacy you work at and come in looking for condoms. There are a lot of pharmacies in Seoul, but I’ll find you,” Jeongguk replies, and Jimin pretends to shove him away and get out of bed, but Jeongguk laughs and grabs him around waist, pulling him back closer until Jimin is nearly lying on top of him.

This is absurd. Absurd. Jimin has known this man for three weeks, and now he’s cuddling in bed with him. Granted, he had practically moved in with Taemin after two weeks, but that was different.

Wasn’t it?

“Sleep well, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers, so Jimin obediently drifts off to sleep.

He’ll worry about it later.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

Hoseok is doing his best to rough Taehyung up and jostle him around while laughing, but Taehyung is stone-faced, arms crossed as he sits with a scowl in Hoseok’s childhood bedroom in Gwangju.

“I had fake sex with you.”

“Yes, I know, and I owe you my life,” Jimin says with a grin, his phone propped up on his kitchen countertop as he makes dinner on Saturday night in his apartment. “Because that’s what got me the best dicking down of my entire life. He slid down my chimney and came through my back door.”

“Is his North Pole huge?” Hoseok asks, and that’s when Taehyung cracks. He grabs the edge of the desk, twists his body in his chair, lifts one foot, and kicks Hoseok wherever he can find. Hoseok’s laughter echoes throughout the room as he spins and falls onto his bed.

“You asshole,” Taehyung emphasizes, smacking the desktop with gusto. “I thought fake fucking meant something to you. God, you really can’t trust anyone these days. Why didn’t you tell me?"

“Well, to be honest, I asked hyung because I wanted him to talk me out of it, but he failed miserably,” Jimin admits, and Taehyung’s anger becomes short-lived instantly. He grins and ruffles his hair. “So I went over and offered myself up like a Christmas present.”

“And did he unwrap you?”

“Definitely.”

“And did he wrap himself?”

“Are you asking if his hot neighbor wore a condom, you weirdo?” Hoseok calls out, and all three of them burst out laughing. “Oh, speaking of which! Sorry, not the condoms.” Hoseok crawls off the bed and drapes his arms around Taehyung’s shoulders. “Are we having New Year’s Eve together this year like always? If so, we should do it at your place, Jimin. You can invite Jeongguk.”

“No.” Jimin points his chopsticks at Hoseok bluntly before he continues to stir his noodles. “I’m not inviting my fuck buddy to a party.”

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy now?” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows.

“Well, seeing as we’ve fucked three times in four days, then yeah,” Jimin says, feeling his ears burn. “But that’s it. He’s just that. He’s good dick and nothing else.”

“Yeah, and didn’t you say he hasn’t invited anyone else over since fucking you?” Hoseok asks with a grin, chin resting on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Someone li-i-i-ikes you, Jiminie.”

“Oh, fuck off. Jeongguk is a self-proclaimed slut. He’s not gonna cut himself off just to play house with me,” Jimin says with a laugh. “But sure, New Year’s Eve as usual at my place. That’s fine. We can invite whoever, as long as it’s not a fire hazard—”

Jimin freezes when he hears a loud knock on his door. Hoseok and Taehyung hear it, too, because they both flail, intrigued, leaning in like they get to eavesdrop or be involved. But Jeongguk is far too unpredictable, so Jimin hastily bids goodbye, and then he rushes to his front door and yanks it open.

No one is there.

“Jeongguk?” Jimin says quietly, but Jeongguk’s door is closed. When Jimin glances down, he sees a little box with red wrapping paper and a gold bow. Perplexed, he bends down and scoops it up in one hand, feeling how light it is. After giving it a little shake and hearing nothing but a faint rattling, he backs into his apartment and sets the box onto the countertop.

The lid is easy to pop off, and Jimin sees white tissue paper with flecks of gold on it first, along with a little note card nestled on top. Jimin pinches it between his fingers and lifts it up to eye level to read:

Merry Christmas to my cute, pain-in-the-ass neighbor (I’m still winning, btw)

“You little fucker,” Jimin mutters, but there’s no malice in his tone, and he’s glad no one else is around to hear him. He sets the note aside and carefully plucks out the tissue paper, and then he stares. His heart thumps against his ribcage like a snowball to the chest, and he lifts out a little Christmas ornament.

It’s wooden. It’s in the shape of a pill bottle, but the label on the bottle says Christmas Cheer, and the doctor’s name is Dr. Park Jimin. The lid of the pill bottle is skewed to the side, and there are tiny little red and green pom-poms bursting from it like pills. It’s painted in such a realistic style that Jimin is sure if he set it on his countertop, anyone would mistake it as a real bottle. It’s handmade—that much is obvious.

Jeongguk got him a Christmas gift.

Not just that—he made Jimin a Christmas gift.

Jimin didn’t get Jeongguk anything. He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t think they were even at that point. The worst part, Jimin realizes as he slowly carries the ornament over to his little tree, is that Jeongguk probably started making the ornament the very second he found out Jimin was a pharmacist. And that was before they fucked.

“Shit. Fuck,” Jimin curses, his heart aching as he hangs the ornament up on the front of his tree. Everything about Jeongguk feels like an avalanche right now. Either that or he feels like Jeongguk is a snowman who’s just been thrust into the middle of summer, and Jimin is watching him melt, watching all the pretenses melt away.

Jimin doesn’t waste another minute. He feels frantic as he marches into the hallway and knocks on Jeongguk’s door, and Jeongguk answers almost immediately.

“What’s up?” he asks, leaning against his door frame. He’s wearing a beanie with the hood of his sweatshirt up, but he’s wearing gym shorts and a pair of socks that have The Grinch on them. He’s a constant enigma to Jimin. 

“I didn’t get you anything,” Jimin blurts out, but Jeongguk only shrugs.

“Doesn’t matter. I didn’t make that expecting you to return the favor,” he replied with a small smile. “Just thought you looked kind of miserable and exhausted one day in the elevator after work, so I decided to make that. Did you hang it up?”

“Yeah. I did. I’m making dinner right now,” Jimin says, feeling like he’s the Ghost of Christmas Past floating outside of his body watching the scene unfold. “Come over and eat with me. I’ll repay you with a good meal. Are you hungry?”

“I was gonna order delivery, so yeah,” Jeongguk replies. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. It’s budae jjigae, so it’s nothing special. But it has ramyeon, so, uh…”

Jeongguk jokingly pushes past Jimin and pretends to ram his shoulder into Jimin’s door in an attempt to get it, and Jimin hates how he laughs at it. This is the same cocky little shit who offered up sex like a prize and hit on Jimin with a fuck buddy still in his bedroom. Jimin will give him his flowers—Jeon Jeongguk is nothing but persistent, consistent, and stubborn.

“Smells amazing,” Jeongguk compliments once he’s inside, and Jimin realizes that he’s never actually had Jeongguk in his apartment like this before. “Oh, is that your tree? Let me see.”

He hurries over towards the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, spots the ornament, and gives Jimin a thumbs up when he glances over his shoulder. Jimin smacks a piece of cheese on top of the budae jjigae as the final touch, shrugging.

“It looks good on the front of the tree,” he concedes, and Jeongguk grins, his eyes wandering the apartment. Jimin sees his gaze drift to the bedroom, and he gives Jimin a quick look like a naughty puppy dog before he rushes over to the bedroom door.

“Can I?” he asks, seeking permission before bursting in. “I wanna see how close your bed actually is to the wall.”

“What is this, a museum?” Jimin asks in exasperation, but he waves Jeongguk on, and Jeongguk practically kicks down the door and skips in. Jimin hears an, “Ooh!” from the bedroom, and he snickers. 

“Upon inspection—” Jeongguk emerges from the bedroom— “I can see how my sex life would encroach on your sleep schedule.”

“Oh, you fucking—!” Jimin launches himself from behind the kitchen countertop and attacks Jeongguk, shoving him as Jeongguk bursts out laughing and tumbles into the bedroom willingly. Jimin wants to push him all the way into the bathroom, but Jeongguk has other plans. He grabs Jimin by the waist, spins them, pins Jimin to the wall, and kisses him. It’s not just one kiss, either. He hitches Jimin’s t-shirt up and everything, licking into his mouth and pressing his hips against Jimin’s hips.

“God, I want to fuck you so badly after this. After dinner. Will you let me?” Jeongguk asks between kisses. “We can christen your bed. Please, baby? One last time before Christmas.”

“Okay, fine. On one condition,” Jimin says breathlessly, holding up a finger between them. Jeongguk raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I get a point for seducing you. Which makes us even.”

“You’re a demon,” Jeongguk complains, but then he grins. “Deal.”

Jimin feeds Jeongguk… and feeds him… and feeds him. Jimin has one helping, but Jeongguk has three. Jimin has seen big eaters before, but Jeongguk is a different breed entirely, and he’s a chef’s dream. He doesn’t speak much, only hums with a scowl and compliments Jimin’s cooking. To curb the strange feeling of discomfort circling his heart like a vulture, Jimin continually gets up from his seat and busies himself with mindless and unimportant tasks. He fears that if he sits too long with Jeongguk, they might do that thing where they get to know each other. Jimin knows his way around Jeongguk’s dick, and truthfully, he’s terrified of anything further. Jeongguk is supposed to be his little rival. Except now Jimin is smiling at his stupid jokes, which means that he doesn’t want to ruin Jeongguk’s life as much as he thought.

Which is embarrassing.

They do christen Jimin’s bed, and they don’t do it in a very holy way, either. When Jeongguk reaches over to get a condom and lube from Jimin’s bedside table drawer, he fishes out a silk necktie and says nothing. He just holds it up to Jimin’s line of vision with one eyebrow raised.

So Jimin offers up his wrists. Christmas present roleplay!

“Have a good Christmas with your family,” Jeongguk says softly.

“Mm. You too,” Jimin whispers back, but neither of them moves. Jeongguk is sitting propped up against all of Jimin’s pillows, and Jimin is casually sitting in his lap, doing nothing but playing with his hair absentmindedly in a fucked out daze. “Thanks for, uh… yeah. Thanks for the gift.”

“Thanks for your gift,” Jeongguk says, and then he grins. “The food and your ass. Both phenomenal gifts.”

“Well, thanks for showing me what’s in Santa’s sack,” Jimin fires back. Jeongguk blinks at him quietly. Dimples indent his cheeks. And then he bursts out laughing and shoves Jimin’s chest with one hand, though he catches Jimin before Jimin topples over backwards.

“Did you just Christmas joke me?” Jeongguk laughs, arms wrapped around Jimin’s waist.

“You know what, dickhead? Yeah. I’m sick of your stupid comebacks, so now I’m gonna hit you with my own,” Jimin retorts, and Jeongguk only continues laughing, even when Jimin crawls off him to get dressed again.

Jeongguk eventually gets cleaned up and dressed, and he wanders out into the living room, lingering a bit too long near the tree before he makes his way to the front door.

“Travel safely,” Jimin says, holding open the front door.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m not used to driving a car, but it’s whatever,” Jeongguk replies with a small shrug.

“Oh, I meant to get back home.” Jimin points to the hallway. “Could be traffic.”

Jeongguk snorts with laughter. “Alright, loser. I’ll be careful. Hey, are you gonna come for a ride with me one day?”

“A ride? Don’t I do that whenever we fuck?” Jimin replies innocently, and Jeongguk rolls his eyes, failing to suppress his smile.

“I meant on my Harley,” he replies. “You ever been on a motorcycle before?”

“No.”

“Wanna ride one?”

“Seems like certain death.”

“It’s not. I have a motorcycle that’s made for a companion,” Jeongguk replies with a wink. “Did that on purpose. Motorcycles get you laid, you know.”

“Gee, I had no idea,” Jimin says sarcastically, pressing his tongue into his cheek because he knows it’s true. He’s just as much of a sucker for a gorgeous tattooed man with a motorcycle and a winning personality. He’ll never let Jeongguk know that, though.

“Well, that’s another offer that won’t ever expire,” Jeongguk says as he punches in his code. “You’d have to hold onto me the entire time, which is my dream come true. My belt size is actually Park Jimin, in case you needed measurements.”

“Boo-o-o-o-o,” Jimin calls out, giving Jeongguk a thumbs down as Jeongguk shoves his front door open.

“Merry Christmas, hyung,” he says.

“Yeah.” Jimin licks his lips with a small smile. “Merry Christmas to you too, Jeongguk.”

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

[mood: “santa tell me” by ariana grande]

There’s a note taped to Jimin’s front door when he returns from Busan post-Christmas Day festivities:

Hyung,
I’m having a NYE party and I don’t know when you’ll be home because I forgot to ask, but if you’re back by then, you’re invited!
-Jeon Jeongguk

Jimin spends a half hour unpacking while stealing glances at the note as it mocks him from his bedside table. The Christmas decorations are still up in his apartment, and he’ll definitely keep them up for the party he’s having. The glaring problem now is that he’s having about seven or eight people over, and God knows how many people Jeongguk will be having over. Two parties with an equal amount of noise? And Jeongguk has invited Jimin to his party when Jimin has been hemming and hawing about inviting Jeongguk?

So Jimin decides to leave a note on Jeongguk’s door. He knows Jeongguk is home, but he’s returning the gesture because for some reason, seeing Jeongguk in person feels… awkward. The thought makes him feel nervous. They’ve been in each other’s personal space for days, and now it’s been three days since Jimin has seen or spoken to Jeongguk. Besides that, Jimin is annoyed at himself for having feelings. He’s a grown man who’s been playing pranks on his hot neighbor in the spirit of Christmas, and now Christmas is over. Now reality is setting in.

He kind of likes Jeongguk.

The problem, Jimin thinks as he writes the note, is that Jeongguk seems like the player type who doesn’t really want to be tied down. He seems to enjoy variety. He might get bored seeing only one person. That’s the issue with fucking around with someone as devil-may-care as Jeon Jeongguk. Jimin knew he had hesitated to accept Jeongguk’s offer for a reason. It always leads to his feelings getting hurt. Trust is a hard thing for Jimin, but he usually trusts the men he’s intimate with, to an extent. And Jeongguk made it too easy. 

So now what?

Jimin sneaks out of his apartment, leans over, and gently tapes the note onto Jeongguk’s door:

I’m having a party on NYE, too… wanna merge parties? Open door policy. We can invite more people. Wanna do it?
That way we’re not competing, since my party would be way better than yours.
-Jimin

Jeongguk responds within an hour by knocking on Jimin’s door. And seeing him again knocks the breath out of Jimin’s lungs, which just instills a feeling of pure dread. Feelings. Great. Awesome. He has a little crush on Jeongguk now. 

“Double party, huh?” He grins and leans against the doorframe like always. “I’m in. I love a stupid idea, and this definitely takes the cake.”

“It’s not stupid,” Jimin says with narrowed eyes.

“It’s kinda stupid. But it’s your idea, so that negates some of the stupid,” Jeongguk reasons. “Are you busy right now?”

“No. I just got back. I was unpacking,” Jimin answers. “Why—?”

Jeongguk pushes off the doorframe with his shoulder, grabs Jimin’s waist, and kisses him. Jimin’s breath catches as he gasps and remembers to kiss Jeongguk back, shaking off the initial shock. His feet leave the ground, and suddenly he’s sitting on his countertop with Jeongguk between his legs.

Ah, fuck it.

Jimin tangles his hands in Jeongguk’s hair and pushes his tongue into Jeongguk’s mouth. Jeongguk’s hands slip around to Jimin’s ass to bring him closer, and then one of his hands drifts to the inside of Jimin’s thigh. Jimin hasn’t felt this frantic and needy for someone in a long time, but a single touch from Jeongguk is electric and all-consuming. He craves. Jeongguk knows how Jimin likes to be touched, and Jimin has learned exactly what Jeongguk likes, too. So when Jimin reaches between them and slips one hand into Jeongguk’s sweatpants, Jeongguk doesn’t protest. He watches as Jimin spits onto his own hand, and then he’s moaning and sucking at the skin on Jimin’s neck as Jimin jerks him off.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” Jeongguk rasps, rutting into Jimin’s tight fist. “I jerked off on fucking Christmas Day thinking about you.”

“And you still got presents? Santa’s a whore,” Jimin whispers, and Jeongguk bursts out laughing, one hand grabbing the nape of Jimin’s neck as Jimin keeps his hand working. It seems like Jeongguk doesn’t have an ego about finishing quickly, either, because he barely manages to choke out that he’s coming before he actually does. Jimin uses his other hand to quell the mess, eyes fluttering shut as Jeongguk pants and leaves kisses on the underside of Jimin’s jaw.

“God, you’re good,” Jeongguk sighs, and Jimin buries his face in Jeongguk’s shoulder to hide his grin. “My turn. Give me your hand.”

“What? Oh, fuck—”

Jeongguk uses some of his own cum as lube as he pulls Jimin to the edge of the countertop and slips past his waistband to touch Jimin. Immediately, Jimin wraps his legs around Jeongguk’s waist, one hand pressed behind him on the counter and the other arm draped over Jeongguk’s shoulder. He thrusts into Jeongguk’s hand, and Jeongguk meets him stroke for stroke, his other hand guiding Jimin’s head forward so he can steal kisses. Jimin can only moan and gasp into Jeongguk’s mouth, and he, too, finishes embarrassingly fast.

“So, how was your Christmas?” Jeongguk asks breathlessly as Jimin catches his breath, coming down from the euphoric high of the orgasm with Jeongguk’s hand still wrapped around his cock.

“That’s your question?” Jimin whispers, his skin buzzing still.

“Mhm. Small talk while I have your dick in my hand,” Jeongguk replies, and Jimin smiles.

“It was fine. Yours?”

“Also fine. Boring. My mom knitted a sweater for me like I’m Ron Weasley,” Jeongguk sighs, finally removing his hand and heading for the kitchen sink. He and Jimin both wash their hands off, Jimin’s legs still shaking, and neither of them even bother to acknowledge that they just jumped each other’s bones without a second thought like they have any right to miss one another.

Has Jeongguk seen anyone else since he started fucking Jimin?

“You don’t look like much of a Weasley,” Jimin teases.

“You’re right. Guess my Hogwarts house,” Jeongguk says as he scoots towards the door, not one to overstay his welcome.

“Ravenclaw,” Jimin decides, and Jeongguk raises his eyebrows.

“Didn’t even hesitate,” he says with a wink. “How’d you know?”

“It was a close call, but you’re an artist. You’re clever. You teach kids for a living. Slytherin-adjacent little shit, Gryffindor-adjacent ego,” Jimin replies, and Jeongguk snorts with laughter, shoulders shaking.

“Okay, so it was a lucky guess.”

“Not at all. I nailed it.”

“You’re probably a Ravenclaw, too.”

“Nope.” Jimin grins. “I’ve taken a dozen tests, and I’m always the same.”

Jeongguk narrows his eyes, clocks Jimin’s grin, and then he clicks his tongue in surprise. “Slytherin?”

“The very same,” Jimin confirms. “Come back tomorrow to plan our party if you have time. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

It isn’t difficult. Jeongguk comes back the next day later at night, and they don’t talk about the party at all. They fuck right on Jimin’s kitchen countertop, only because Jeongguk said he fantasized about it yesterday and wanted to follow through.

And then they arrange the party. They sit side-by-side while texting their friends the updated plan, but Jimin doesn’t ask for Jeongguk’s number, and Jeongguk doesn’t ask for Jimin’s number. There seems to be an invisible line drawn in the sand right now. Jimin just accepts it, but his eyes continue to drift to the pill bottle ornament on his Christmas tree while they plan together.

“I think you already met one of my best friends,” Jeongguk says. “He knocked on your door by accident once.”

“Oh, yeah. He had wine. Handsome guy with the world’s most symmetrical face,” Jimin says, and Jeongguk lets out a bark of laughter.

“Don’t ever say that to him. His ego will skyrocket,” he jokes. “He’s five years older than me, but he taught me everything I know. That’s only kind of a joke.”

“Taught you what, exactly?” Jimin raises one eyebrow.

“Oh, Seokjin basically runs his own brothel,” Jeongguk says with a mischievous grin. “Not really. Don’t worry. But he’s openly a whore and has absolutely zero interest in ever being in a long-term relationship. You know how some people lie about not wanting that kind of thing? Not Seokjin. He’s dead serious. He wants a lifetime of freedom and independence. His quality of life is through the fucking roof.”

“Jesus,” Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s like people who are child-free by choice, isn’t it? You do what fulfills you the most and what aligns with your own personal life mottos. No judgment at all. Good for him.”

“Exactly,” Jeongguk says, nudging Jimin’s shoulder. “Knew I liked you.”

“What about you?” Jimin blurts out before he can stop himself, hiding his phone screen from Jeongguk because he’s not doing anything important. He’s just scrolling back and forth on his Notes app and keyboard smashing nonsense to look busy.

“What about me?” Jeongguk asks as he brings his water bottle to his mouth to chug.

“You’re openly a whore,” Jimin states, and Jeongguk chokes and coughs on his water, smacking his knee first and then Jimin’s knee. “Are you not?”

Jeongguk thumps his chest with his fist a few times. “No, no, you’re right. Keep going.”

“Are you the same?” Jimin asks. “Do you have no interest in a long-term relationship?”

“Me? No. I may be a slut, but I’m not like him,” Jeongguk says with a shrug, sending another text message. “Uh… yeah. I’m different. I’d kill for a monogamous relationship with the right person. Not to be crude, but I just like fucking. It’s fun, and I’m good at it. Makes life interesting. But I’d be fine with settling down with someone. Oh, awesome. My other two best friends can make it, too.”

“Yeah? That’s—Cool. That’s good,” Jimin says, his voice slightly strangled. 

“They’re like an old married couple. They’ve been together for seven years,” Jeongguk explains animatedly. “I met Namjoon at the gym, and he introduced me to Yoongi. They’re both so annoying.”

“Annoying?”

“Yeah. Namjoon’s a veterinarian, and Yoongi is a pediatrician. They’re both well-established rich assholes who are unfortunately the nicest and humblest people you’ll ever meet,” Jeongguk explains, and Jimin grins.

“Sounds like my two best friends. They’re dating. Hoseok is a dental assistant and Taehyung is a physiotherapist.”

“Christ. I’m surrounded by successful medical nerds,” Jeongguk sighs, rubbing his brow. “Psychologist, pediatrician, veterinarian, dental assistant, physiotherapist, pharmacist.”

“Who’s the psychologist?”

“Seokjin. He’s a licensed marriage counselor,” Jeongguk says, and Jimin bursts out laughing before he can stop himself.

“He’s a what? The same guy you just called a forever whore is a what?”

Jeongguk grins so widely that the dimples appear in his cheeks again, bottom lip between his teeth. Jimin is noticing the little things now. He never noticed the dimples before.

“Life is full of beautiful irony, isn’t it? Like you and me hosting a party together,” Jeongguk says with an impressive sigh, leaning back against the couch. “About four weeks ago, you were threatening to ruin my sex life. Now you are my sex life. So crazy. Is my dick bigger than you thought?”

“You are literally—” Jimin backhands Jeongguk’s chest with an open palm, and Jeongguk recoils with a laugh. “So fucking obnoxious.”

“You know what? The kids I work with think I’m cool,” Jeongguk brags, and Jimin rolls his eyes. His first instinct is to hastily move on with the conversation, but then he considers that maybe now is the time to learn something about Jeongguk.

“I didn’t think teachers were allowed to have piercings and longer hair and tattoos and drive motorcycles,” Jimin lists, curling up sideways on the couch. Jeongguk smirks, pulling his legs up onto the couch as well.

“They’re not really. I tamed myself as much as possible. I used to have lip piercings and a tongue piercing and dyed hair,” Jeongguk explains, and Jimin has to clench his jaw to keep from jumping Jeongguk a second time. “But CSSA hired me because I covered everything up and interviewed well and my art portfolio spoke for itself. I have to wear long sleeves every day, but whatever. They tried to get rid of me. Didn’t work.”

“They tried?”

“Of course they did,” Jeongguk said, grinning with palpable pride. “I made it through one whole school year unscathed. Second year, the school board finally caught wind that I existed. Some dickhead came in and told me to cut my hair and remove my piercings and that they would pay for some tattoo removal procedures. I said no, so they put me on administrative leave.”

“Assholes,” Jimin declares. Jeongguk shoots him finger guns of approval.

“Exactly. So I was away for a week, and the principal started getting a fuck-ton of emails from parents,” Jeongguk continues, smug. “Apparently all the kids were complaining that I was gone, and parents were emailing complaining that their child was miserable in art class now and that they would just pull their child out of the school if the art teacher wasn’t coming back. They kept saying I made their kid love art again. Allegedly,” Jeongguk emphasizes with heavy air quotes. “Anyway, they reinstated me right away. Hopped off my back about my appearance. And it’s been sunshine and daisies ever since.”

“Has it?”

“Of course not. They try once a year to threaten me, but I just remind them that I’ve been voted teacher of the year twice in my four-year career at CSSA,” Jeongguk replies, holding up both hands in victory and taking a bow as Jimin gives him a slow clap of approval. “I didn’t study art at SNU and finish at the top of my class for nothing.”

“Show-off,” Jimin grumbles, but then he holds out his fist. “Fellow SNU grad.”

Jeongguk bumps his fist, rolling his head on the couch to look at Jimin with a sparkle in his eyes. Christ, he’s cute. Jimin is out of Christmas puns. All he has left now are New Year’s resolutions that are going to fail miserably. Number one: don’t sleep with the enemy. Instant fail. He’s off to a roaring good start.

I’d kill for a monogamous relationship with the right person.

Jimin, the jaded pharmacist who swears he just doesn’t have time for a relationship and usually goes bah humbug! at other people’s relationships… now kind of wants to be the right person for Jeongguk.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

[mood: “is it new years yet?” by sabrina carpenter]

Jeongguk has twice the amount of friends Jimin has.

It’s not like Jimin doesn’t have a great group of friends. It’s that he’s selective, whereas Jeongguk is fine with inviting whoever. And once the New Year’s Eve party is in full swing, with guests trickling between the apartments and having a blast, Jimin comes to terms with the fact that he knows approximately… a quarter of the people present.

Hoseok and Taehyung are currently in Jeongguk’s apartment because they’re nosy. Jimin has met Kim Namjoon, the veterinarian, and his boyfriend Min Yoongi, the pediatrician. Both exceedingly handsome. Both just as sweet and humble as Jeongguk described, though Yoongi straight-up asked if Jimin was the neighbor Jeongguk had a crush on. Jimin excused himself to his own apartment after that.

“Yah! Park Jimin!”

Jimin spins around upon hearing his name and spots the person summoning him—Kim Seokjin, the handsome marriage counselor. He’s scanning Jeongguk’s apartment in curiosity, where Jimin has migrated to only an hour before midnight, and then he spots Jimin and waves. He’s wearing a pair of black and gold sunglasses with the upcoming New Year as the lens shape, but he shoves them up into his black hair as he approaches.

“I thought you were Jimin, but I didn’t want to be wrong and embarrass myself. So I figured I’d do a general all-call,” Seokjin explains, sipping his drink. “I just felt the urge to come introduce myself, since I’m pretty sure I banged on your door last time and walked away.”

“Right. Nice to meet you officially. You’re the marriage counselor,” Jimin states, and Seokjin snickers.

“Is that all Jeongguk said about me?”

“No. He also said that you’re a whore who taught him everything he knows,” Jimin supplies, and Seokjin quite literally slaps his own knee while laughing. It’s fascinating. He’s like a vampire to Jimin. 

“He’s absolutely right,” Seokjin agrees, tilting his cup towards Jimin. Jimin taps his cup against Seokjin’s in a toast. “I counsel people on how to save their marriages and how to maintain their relationships, and then I go out and sin and I do it really, really well. Life is beautiful that way. Look, I don’t want to keep you. I just know that Jeongguk thinks the sun shines out of your ass, so I figured I’d come say hello and ask what you think about him—”

“YAH! HYUNG!”

Seokjin whips his head to the right, spots Jeongguk, and instantly chugs the remainder of his drink like he’s been caught committing a heinous crime. He shoves the empty cup against Jimin’s chest.

“I was never here,” he declares, winking and turning over one shoulder to vanish and blend in with the party. Jimin stands rooted to the spot, holding two cups in confusion as Jeongguk makes his way over.

“What did he say?” Jeongguk demands, and Jimin clicks his tongue.

“That you think the sun shines out of my ass,” Jimin decides to say, and Jeongguk turns away and presses his fingertips to his brow in pained consternation.

“I’ve had five drinks and it’s not nearly enough to keep my friends from speaking,” he agonizes, and Jimin snickers. “Anything any of them say is a lie.”

“So you don’t think the sun shines out of my ass?” Jimin raises one eyebrow, jutting his lower lip out on purpose as a cheer arises from the table near the television where a group of partygoers are playing flip cup.

“No, I do. Your ass is great. Super bright. Sunshine everywhere. Speaking of which—no, wait, sorry. That’s not a good transition. You’re gonna kiss me at midnight, right?” Jeongguk asks, reaching down and taking Jimin’s free hand in his to swing it back and forth playfully. Jimin lets him do it as he sips on his second drink. If he thought Jeongguk was beautiful before, seeing Jeongguk tipsy with a slight pink tinge in his cheeks from the alcohol is enough to kill him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss your significant other at midnight, or someone you’re dating,” Jimin says like he’s bargaining. Jeongguk would normally have a quick-witted comeback, but instead, he just frowns slightly with a sigh.

“So then what about me?” Jeongguk points the finger at himself.

“What about you?” Jimin asks. “Doesn’t Seokjin need someone to kiss?”

Another cheer arises, but it’s from Jimin’s apartment, and loud laughter seeps into the hallway. Jimin checks the clock—47 minutes until midnight. He squeezes Jeongguk’s arm as a sign of departure and hastily makes his way into the hallway.

But he just stands there.

He’s the fool at a crossroads. This isn’t the first time he’s run away from Jeongguk, and at this point, he’s sick and tired of himself. He could have easily just agreed to be Jeongguk’s midnight kiss. Yoongi said Jeongguk has a crush on him. Seokjin said Jeongguk thinks the sun shines out of Jimin’s ass. So what isn’t clicking?

It has to be fear. Jimin can’t think of a better explanation for his stupidity. Jeongguk has been a constant in his life for a month now, and Jimin hasn’t fallen for someone like this in years, maybe ever. Besides the fact that they’re great in bed together, there’s a spark that could easily be fanned into flame that could spread and become a wildfire. Jeongguk hasn’t invited a single person over since he started sleeping with Jimin. He gave Jimin a Christmas present. He wants to be Jimin’s midnight kiss.

“Fuck,” Jimin says out loud as he turns over his shoulder to duck back into Jeongguk’s apartment. “Fuck, I actually like him.”

Luckily, the party is too loud for anyone to hear him, let alone notice that he’s talking to himself. Hoseok and Taehyung are now involved in a game of flip cup, and Jeongguk is on the opposing team. That’s a trainwreck waiting to happen, but Jimin does absolutely nothing to intervene. He’s too busy staring at his two best friends laughing with the man he’s falling for at a faster speed than the Times Square ball drop.

Which is why he’s bowled over by a hand smacking his arm and grabbing.

“Excuse me.”

“Huh? Oh, shit,” Jimin curses as he stumbles sideways, because someone has him by the arm. He trips into the corner and turns to face his kidnapper, but it isn’t a stranger—it’s Min Yoongi, the pediatrician with a dry sense of humor. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Yoongi tucks his long black hair behind one ear and glances over his left shoulder, clearly looking for Jeongguk. He wouldn’t be barricading Jimin into a corner if this wasn’t about Jeongguk. “I’ll make this quick. Do you like Jeongguk or not?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Did he put you up to this?” Jimin asks immediately, narrowing his eyes. “What is this, a teen romance novel?”

“If he put me up to this, do you think I’d be hiding you right now?” Yoongi asks, turning his head to take a sip of his drink—that’s how close he is to Jimin. Lifting his cup while facing head-on to Jimin would equal Jimin being punched in the chin by cheap plastic.

“Honestly, with Jeongguk, he’s the definition of ‘never let them know your next move,’ so hell if I know,” Jimin says with a laugh.

“Okay, well, if you actually like him, then give him a goddamn kiss at midnight. He’s drunk and moping about being rejected and wondering if you’re gonna kiss your fuck buddy instead,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes. Jimin blinks, and then he bursts out laughing, catching himself on the wall to keep from toppling over.

“Oh-h-h, God. That’s so funny. Do you think I should tell him that my fuck buddy isn’t my fuck buddy and that he’s my best friend who I fake-fucked to annoy him?” Jimin muses, tapping the rim of his cup against his bottom lip in thought.

“Jesus Christ. You’re just as bad as him,” Yoongi complains, but he doesn’t sound as annoyed as he looks. Seems like an act to hide his fondness, in Jimin’s slightly tipsy opinion. “If you like him, then kiss him, because his stupid ass has been pouting since the party started over your fuck buddy—sorry, best friend—being here and he wants you to kiss him at midnight and I’m about to lose my mind. Nice to officially meet you, Jimin.”

Yoongi pats Jimin’s shoulder in a somewhat sympathetic fashion, tilts his cup in Jimin’s direction like a toast, and then promptly pivots and walks away. Jimin watches in dumbfounded interest as Yoongi weaves through a small group of people and finds his way directly into Namjoon’s arms. Namjoon pulls Yoongi in immediately, one arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders as he drops a kiss to the side of Yoongi’s head. It’s an incredibly simple and rather quick gesture. It’s natural. Domestic. The sign of two people who have been together for seven years.

I’d kill for a monogamous relationship with the right person.

This is really going to happen on New Year’s Eve, isn’t it? Jimin hasn’t had nearly enough to drink. Not nearly enough. With his heart gurgling in his throat, he weaves through the crowd of people and makes a beeline for his apartment so he can play some other drinking games to catch up. He’s going to kiss Jeongguk at midnight. Now he just needs the liquid courage, because if he does this, then he’s straight-up admitting to everything.

So he plays three rounds of games with the TV blasting to alert them when it’s time for midnight. Jimin is only able to stomach one more drink in total though, because he’s about to do something that, for once in his life, he won’t regret. It’s terrifying and the fear of being rejected is eating him alive, but what’s a New Year without a little risk?

“SIXTY! FIFTY-NINE! FIFTY-EIGHT!”

“Oh, fuck,” Jimin gasps when the countdown starts, because he’s still in his apartment recovering from the most ridiculous drinking game of which he still doesn’t know the rules. Still carrying his half-empty cup, Jimin sidles past everyone in his apartment and bursts into the hallway, greeted by a rush of cool air and fluorescent lighting before he ducks back into Jeongguk’s apartment.

“FORTY-SEVEN! FORTY-SIX!”

Jimin frantically scans the apartment, wondering if maybe he missed Jeongguk in his apartment, wondering if he’s about to fuck this up. But then, like a miracle not on 34th Street but on the eleventh floor of a Gangnam apartment building, he spots Jeongguk over near the TV. 

Except he’s way too close to a guy Jimin doesn’t recognize.

“THIRTY-THREE! THIRTY-TWO! THIRTY-ONE!”

Jimin hasn’t come this far to just roll over and give up. If Jeongguk has taught him anything over the last four weeks, it’s fuck the rules. Fuck formalities. And fuck being polite. Not in a time like this.

“TWENTY-FIVE! TWENTY-FOUR!”

“Move, move, please move, please—excuse me, move,” Jimin insists, pushing past everyone in Jeongguk’s apartment and jostling them. He gets a few dirty looks that melt away when people recognize their party co-host, and they’re all too caught up in counting down to care. Jimin feels like he’s moving through molasses in a dream, like the countdown is suddenly going faster and Jeongguk is suddenly moving further and further away from him. But finally, he breaks through and rounds the coffee table close to the TV.

“THIRTEEN! TWELVE! ELEVEN!”

“Excuse me, excuse—hello,” he says over all the counting to the man standing way too close to Jeongguk with a midnight kiss in his eyes. Jimin inhales deeply and faces only Jeongguk, though, who’s staring at him curiously with a drink in his hand.

“SEVEN! SIX!”

“What’s wrong?” Jeongguk wonders.

“Do you need to kiss him?” Jimin asks, bluntly pointing at the stranger. Jeongguk only cocks his head to the side with a hint of a smile on his face, and that’s enough for Jimin.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!”

Jimin grabs Jeongguk’s waist with one hand, a fistful of Jeongguk’s hair in the other hand, and kisses him. He kisses Jeongguk the way he wishes he had been all along but was too caught up in his own denial to ever follow through. In the midst of the chaos, Jimin hears the thud of a glass being set on a table, and then Jeongguk is engulfing him, pressing Jimin’s body to his and deepening the kiss, mussing Jimin’s hair as his fingers curl around Jimin’s neck.

The midnight mark has passed. “Auld Lang Syne” is blasting from the TV. But Jeongguk’s tongue is in Jimin’s mouth, and Jimin hasn’t been kissed like this in so long. There’s a nuanced passion behind it, the way that Jeongguk traces Jimin’s bottom lip with his tongue and smiles between each kiss. All Jimin can do is block out all the cheering and celebration and give back to Jeongguk what he’s receiving.

“GET A ROO-O-O-O-OM!” he hears, and surely it’s directed at the two of them, but Jimin doesn’t care. Jeongguk spins them and presses Jimin’s back to the wall, and Jimin lets out a sharp breath of pleasure, fingernails dragging down Jeongguk’s back into the next kiss. Jeongguk hitches his leg up, causing Jimin to almost lose his balance, but both he and the world could come crashing down right now and it wouldn’t matter much. The New Year has started off on the right foot, in Jimin’s opinion.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Jimin gasps, pressing one hand to Jeongguk’s chest and forcing himself to break the kiss. He’s panting, and Jeongguk’s heavy breathing matches his. “We can’t. Not now.”

“It’s past midnight. I can just make everyone leave,” Jeongguk says in a hurry, sneaking two more kisses from Jimin that make Jimin’s heart cartwheel. With a laugh, Jimin shakes his head, reaching up and brushing his knuckle against Jeongguk’s cheek for no reason other than greed. He gets to touch Jeongguk like this. He gets to kiss Jeongguk at midnight. He gets to live next door to Jeongguk. He gets the privilege of not just falling, but crash landing into a deep pit of feelings with no escape.

He needs Jeongguk to feel the same.

[mood: “i told you” by haywood, loote, petey martin]

“What’s your resolution?” Jimin asks, fingers still threaded through Jeongguk’s hair as he continues to leave soft, faint kisses along Jeongguk’s lips and cheeks.

“Mine? My resolution? Bagging you,” Jeongguk declares, and it’s like another burst of celebratory confetti in Jimin’s mind. “You’re so annoying. I just want you to like me, but you’re so grumpy, can you—?”

Jimin silences him with a kiss. He’s officially given up. He can’t be grumpy and fight it any longer. His little Christmas crush has turned into a romantic resolution. He has little to no idea how to make things work, but right now, Jeongguk’s fingers are beneath his sweater pressed against the curve of his spine, they’re both using their inebriation as an excuse for bravery, and Jeongguk is one kiss away from undressing Jimin in the middle of the living room the way he’s touching.

“Can I what?” Jimin asks teasingly, lips against Jeongguk’s. “You’ll have to stop fucking anyone who breathes in your direction.”

“Joke’s on you. I have, like, five people I rotate in and out on a regular basis,” Jeongguk says in a tone that sounds like he’s on the verge of sticking his tongue out and blowing a raspberry like a brat. “I got rid of all of them the second we started fucking.”

“Did you?” Jimin cocks his head to the side, his vision swimming slightly, the lights a bit brighter around Jeongguk’s head to make a halo.

“Yeah. I did. But what about your fuck buddy? The—There’s—He’s right…” Swaying, Jeongguk jabs his thumb over his shoulder in Taehyung’s general direction as the celebration continues. Jimin inhales, holds his breath, and spots Taehyung back-hugging Hoseok post-midnight-kiss while laughing with Namjoon and Yoongi, of all people. Given the look on Jeongguk’s face and Yoongi’s previous statement, Jimin can safely assume that Jeongguk 100% believes that Taehyung is Jimin’s fuck buddy. 

“Jeongguk.” Jimin sets his hand on Jeongguk’s hip and slowly turns with him to face Taehyung. “That… is Taehyung.”

“That… Taehyung?” Jeongguk’s brow furrows.

“Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. My best friend. The guy he’s hanging on is Hoseok. His boyfriend. My other best friend,” Jimin explains. Jeongguk opens and shuts his mouth several times without saying a word. He lifts his finger and weakly wiggles it in Taehyung’s direction with a confused hum, and then he taps the finger against his temple before glancing over at Jimin, bewildered.

“He’s not my fuck buddy. I’ve never slept with him. We faked it just so I could get back at you,” Jimin says, and before he can second-guess himself, he takes Jeongguk’s face between his hands and kisses him again. “Just a prank.”

“Just…” Jeongguk twists his lips as he reckons with Jimin’s confession, and then he bends his knees ever so slightly so that he's exactly eye level with Jimin. It sends Jimin for a goddamn loop, because Christ, he's down so badly for this man.

“So you like me, right? Just me?” Jeongguk searches Jimin’s eyes for the truth, even though his gaze is slightly unfocused.

“I’m afraid so,” Jimin sighs, but Jeongguk seems intent on swallowing his words, because he sweeps Jimin off his feet into another kiss, beaming ear-to-ear. Jimin doesn’t hesitate to wrap his legs around Jeongguk’s waist, since Jeongguk can hold him up easily.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, gross, we know you two are gonna fuck like animals when we all leave, break it u-u-u-u-up.” A muscular arm cuts through the two of them, forcing Jimin to drop to his feet, and there’s Kim Namjoon, making a face of disgust at the two of them. 

“Hyung only ever makes animal-related jokes,” Jeongguk says, and Namjoon snickers.

“I found out from Jimin’s best friend that Jimin is allergic to cats, so unfortunately, Jeongguk, when you two decide to play house… no cats,” Namjoon advises. “Also, Jimin, how well do you know, uh… what’s his name? One of your friends. Seungcheol.”

“Oh. He’s a friend from university,” Jimin says with a shrug. “Why?”

“Seokjin wants to fuck him,” Namjoon replies, and Jimin lets out a bark of laughter, clinging to Jeongguk’s arm to keep from falling over. “He was wondering how much of a problem that would be.”

“Seungcheol has spent, like, five years thinking he’s bisexual, but he’s never been with a man because he’s a chicken, so tell Seokjin good luck,” Jimin replies. Namjoon pats Jimin’s shoulder with a nod.

“Great. Happy New Year. Let’s do a triple date brunch soon. I invited Taehyung and Hoseok because they seem like generally pleasant people and not oblivious morons,” Namjoon says with a gentle smile, walking away as Jimin slowly processes that that’s a jab at him. He’s the oblivious moron. 

He deserves that.

“Wanna sleep over tonight?” Jeongguk asks, because apparently he’s also oblivious to Namjoon’s teasing.

“Of course I do,” Jimin practically coos, because now he doesn’t feel like he has to put on an act. He’ll probably have to spend a lot of time making up for the fact that he was a brick wall for multiple weeks, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

“Shit. Okay. I’m—Yup. I’m gonna go drink some more because—yeah. Okay. Okay,” Jeongguk says, slipping one arm around Jimin’s waist and kissing him. “I’ll come back for you.”

He doesn’t come back until around half past three in the morning, but it’s Jimin who finds him as people begin to leave the party. Both apartments are messy but not trashed, thankfully, and when the last people (Namjoon and Yoongi, of course) leave for the night, Jeongguk is just wandering around his apartment humming to himself, cleaning up as he goes along.

“Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin says.

“Huh? Present. Oops!” Jeongguk lets out a giggle—a giggle— as he stumbles and catches himself on the kitchen countertop, and then he just throws his entire upper body onto it, arms sprawled. “The countertop is cold, hyung. It feels really good.”

“We can clean up tomorrow, you know. Why don’t we go to bed?” Jimin suggests.

“Bed?” Jeongguk rockets upright, grinning. “Yeah, let’s go to bed. Let’s—” He rounds the countertop and wraps his arms around Jimin, kissing Jimin’s forehead in a gesture that feels incredibly intimate. “You’re so pretty, hyung. I’m—Did you know—I’m gonna date you.”

“You are?” Jimin giggles, because he’s drunk, but he’s not that drunk. Jeongguk is at the point where he likely won’t remember this conversation tomorrow morning.

“I totally am. That’s been my plan all along. I saw you—I saw you and I said, ‘I’m gonna fuck him and then I’m gonna date him.’ In that order,” Jeongguk declares, waddling towards the bedroom with Jimin in his arms. “You know why I’m really drunk? Guess.”

“Because you drank too much?” Jimin asks with a grin as they step over the bedroom threshold. Jeongguk shakes his head.

“No, no. Yes. Well, no, but yes. I’m really drunk because you said you like me and now I’m nervous,” Jeongguk says, his social filter completely gone now. “Because I’m gonna date you and make you my boyfriend and what if you don’t wanna—what if—?”

“Jeongguk?” Jimin lifts his finger to Jeongguk’s lips to silence him. “Do you wanna do like Namjoon said and fuck like animals, or are you too drunk for that?”

“No. No, I’m definitely not too drunk for that. What a stupid question,” Jeongguk says as he begins to undress Jimin with a grin. “For you? Never. Never too drunk. Come here. Come on. We’ll fuck and then go to bed.”

So they do just that. It’s nothing like the other times they’ve had sex, though. They’re both drunk and tired, but Jeongguk just holds Jimin tightly in his lap and lavishes his entire body with kisses as Jimin slowly rides Jeongguk’s cock with one hand pressed to the wall. The room is spinning and his entire body is tingling with arousal and alcohol, but every touch is euphoric. Jimin lets himself kiss Jeongguk while they fuck. He lets himself call Jeongguk “sweetheart,” because that seems to suit him best—Jeongguk is a sweetheart.

But most of all, he just lets himself feel.

⋆⁎❅⁎⋆❅⋆⁎❅⁎⋆

Jimin wakes up around noon with a dry mouth and a sore body and a mild headache, and Jeongguk is dead to the world, one arm slung across Jimin’s waist. Desperate for water and a hangover cure, Jimin rolls out of bed without waking Jeongguk, and he drags his feet out into the living room and kitchen area.

Last night happened. His New Year is starting off like this.

Jimin moves like he’s in a dream, dazed while opening the fridge and cupboards to explore what Jeongguk has for food. He starts pulling out whatever he can find, a recipe in his head, and he even goes as far as to slip out to his own apartment to grab the last of the ingredients he needs. He feels like he’s on autopilot as he begins to cook something to bring them both back to life (food is a love language for Jeongguk), and he spots his phone lying on the countertop with only 17% battery left. He has a few text messages.

TAE [4:01AM]
I think your anniversary with Jeongguk should be New Year’s Eve

Just saying!!!!!!!

You’re both disgusting!!!!! ❤️

HOBI [11:15AM]
Jiminieeeee ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ 

Kim Namjoon said we’re doing a couples’ brunch 🤣 I need his number!!!

It’s chaos first thing in the morning. Jimin expected nothing less. Instead of answering, though, he continues cooking until he can let the food simmer, and then he grabs some aspirin and water and tiptoes back toward the bedroom, cracking open the door.

My resolution? Bagging you.

[mood: “yes or no” by jungkook]

As Jimin leans against the bedroom door frame, he feels his heart fluttering in a state of mild confusion. The man lying in the bed across the room has been the bane of Jimin’s existence for an entire month now, and in hindsight, a month is just a blip in time. But now Jimin is just watching Jeongguk sleep, and it’s doing strange things to him, especially given the way they fucked last night.

Jeongguk’s hair is falling in his face, and his cheek is squished into the pillow. He has one arm slung over his head, which looks uncomfortable, but he must have moved after Jimin crept out of the bed. His cheeks are tinged slightly pink from his slumber, and he snores when he sleeps. Jimin should find it annoying, but it was oddly comforting last night to hear Jeongguk snore when their legs were all tangled up and he could feel Jeongguk’s heartbeat beneath his hand.

He’s abruptly jolted out of his daydreaming when he hears a soft little groan.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin says, stepping into the bedroom and hovering by Jeongguk’s bedside. With a stretch and a yawn and another groan, Jeongguk rolls onto his back, and he only cracks open one eye to catch a glimpse of Jimin. Before Jimin can stop him, Jeongguk throws his arm out and grabs Jimin’s waist, pulling him onto the bed. Jimin lets out a yelp and a laugh, falling on top of Jeongguk and lifting up the blankets to straddle his hips comfortably. Once positioned, he pulls the blanket back up, and Jeongguk silently coaxes him closer.

“G’morning,” Jeongguk croaks, cradling the back of Jimin’s head with one hand as Jimin buries his face in Jeongguk’s neck. No one can see them. They’re alone, just the two of them, and Jeongguk is incredibly hungover—that much is obvious from the get-go. So Jimin seizes the opportunity to be close, something he’s craved for days but hasn’t quite managed to pluck up the courage to do.

“Morning,” Jimin whispers. “I’m making haejang-guk for you. Hangover cure. You had most of what I needed, but I had a few ingredients in my fridge, so I brought some over.”

“Seriously?” Jeongguk rasps, using a few fingers to grip Jimin’s chin. He’s squinting, and he probably has a headache. Jimin leans down, heart pounding, and hovers only a centimeter from Jeongguk’s lips. Jeongguk closes the gap and kisses Jimin softly, sweetly, sleepily. And not just once—Jimin gets three kisses.

“Hope that’s okay,” Jimin continues. “I’m hungover, too, but not as badly as you.”

“I’m not that hungover. Ooh, is that aspirin?” Jeongguk asks as he rolls his head to the right and spots the pills and glass of water on his bedside table. Jimin stifles a laugh and grabs both, handing them over as he sits up with the blanket pooling around his waist. Jeongguk takes the pills and chases them with water, heaving a sigh as he collapses back onto the pillows. His thumbs are in the juncture of Jimin’s hips and thighs, and he’s drumming his fingers gently on Jimin’s waist.

“You were very drunk last night,” Jimin says with a grin, pushing Jeongguk’s hair away from his face. “Couldn’t walk a straight line if you tried.”

“That’s fine,” Jeongguk croaks. “Couldn’t walk in a straight line on a normal day, either. Being bisexual will do that to you.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Jimin sighs, but this time, there’s a hint of fondness in his voice. Something about that midnight kiss, something about the way Jeongguk drunkenly held him while they fucked last night… something shifted. Jimin can’t pinpoint it, but he knows it’s true.

“Kiss?” Jeongguk pouts and taps his bottom lip, and Jimin just grants him a kiss without hesitation. “Did I say anything stupid last night?”

“No. Just that you wanted to date me and make me your boyfriend and that that was your plan all along,” Jimin answers, and Jeongguk’s brow furrows as he presses a few fingers to it once again. Jimin giggles, leans to the side, and kisses Jeongguk’s cheek. “It sounds like a good plan.”

“Does it?” Jeongguk drops his hand. “I know it sounds weird. Your neighbor who was always fucking someone else up against your bedroom wall is like, ‘Date me-e-e-e.’ But I swear I really mean it.”

“You…” Jimin falls forward so that he can press his chest to Jeongguk’s chest and bury his face in Jeongguk’s neck. “Got under my skin so fast. I tried really hard to hate you. Didn’t work. That’s why I caved and agreed to fuck you.”

“So what you’re saying is that my flirting game was excellent.”

“Pretty sure the kids call that ‘rizz.’”

“That too.”

“Look…” Jimin kisses Jeongguk’s neck, nuzzles his nose against warm skin, and sits up so he can look into Jeongguk’s eyes. “I like you. And I know you like me. So… why don’t we try it out? We’ll spend time together. Go out on dates.”

“I still get to fuck you, right?” Jeongguk asks with a sleepy grin. Jimin narrows his eyes, trying not to laugh, and Jeongguk’s response is to crawl his fingers up Jimin’s bare chest to tweak one of his nipples playfully. “Sorry. Definitely all the dating stuff. I just—well…”

“Same.” Jimin traces Jeongguk’s cheek with his knuckles. “Physical touch is my love language. I couldn’t go more than a day or two without having sex with you, so that’s obviously a given.”

“Thank God,” Jeongguk sighs. “I mean, besides the fact that you’re a lot of fun in bed, it just feels good. Being close to you like that. We fucked last night, didn’t we? I vaguely remember it.”

“Mhm. You made me come first. Such a gentleman,” Jimin teases.

“Hyung…” Jeongguk takes both of Jimin’s hands in his, fiddling with Jimin’s fingers gently. “Are you sure you like me?”

“I’m sure.” Jimin grabs Jeongguk’s hands and lifts them to kiss his knuckles. “I’m absolutely positive. I know I was an asshole at first and that we were back-and-forth nonstop like idiots, but I really like you. I do. You’re smart and creative and hardworking and so beautiful and you make me laugh, and I love that I don’t have to walk on eggshells around you. I can be kind of pessimistic sometimes. So I like the outlook you have on life. I want to know everything about you.”

“You know that technically, you’re dating down,” Jeongguk says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re a more elite class of man because you’re a pharmacist. I’m just an art teacher.”

“Well, ‘just an art teacher,’ I think that I’m dating way out of my league, so…” Jimin melts into Jeongguk, their bodies pressed together as he initiates a kiss. Jeongguk’s arms circle his waist, Jimin can feel him smiling into the kiss, and it’s so nice. It’s such a departure from where they were a month ago.

“Wanna take a ride on my motorcycle later today to get food for dinner?” Jeongguk asks with a grin. “I have a helmet for you. Since we’re exclusive now.”

“I’ll probably shit myself, but sure,” Jimin agrees. “You promise?”

“Promise what?”

“That we’re exclusive.”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk tucks Jimin’s hair behind one ear. “Anyone I ever had over at my apartment was just for a fun distraction. It was always just sex. Never serious. And I meant it when I said that I already cut them all off.”

“So I’m the only one on your roster now?”

“Roster?” Jeongguk snickers. “I thought we were doing Christmas jokes. You’re at the top of my naughty list. The only name, actually.”

“Yeah, good. Let’s keep it that way,” Jimin whispers, kissing Jeongguk softly. “And I promise I won’t be grumpy anymore. I was grumpy because I was in denial. I didn’t want to like you, but here I am.”

“Why not?” Jeongguk cocks his head to the side, still leaning back on the pillows.

“I don’t know,” Jimin says with a shrug. “I kept telling myself it was the wrong time and that you didn’t want to be tied down or in a relationship. I just assumed. So I gaslit myself.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t help. I was being a fuckboy,” Jeongguk says with a mischievous grin, tongue poking out between his teeth. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I thought it was attractive,” Jimin says, heaving a dramatic sigh and shaking his head. Jeongguk pokes his sides as they both laugh, and Jimin leaves a kiss on Jeongguk’s forehead. “Are you hungry? Let’s eat.”

“Starving.”

They eat together. Jeongguk has two huge servings. They shower off and take a nap together. When they’re not dozing, they just lie together with their legs tangled, talking in hushed tones and playing with each other’s hair or fingers. They swap funny work stories, talk about their families, talk about what kind of video games they like, and talk about how the pharmacy Jimin works at does sell condoms but not lube.

“I can come in and buy some,” Jeongguk says with a grin. “Unless…”

“Unless?” Jimin raises one eyebrow.

“Unless we go and get tested together and ditch the condoms if we’re in the clear,” Jeongguk suggests, his eyes wild with excitement at the very thought.

“Well, then we better do that soon. But that means you won’t come visit me at work, huh?” Jimin brushes his fingers beneath Jeongguk’s chin playfully.

“Oh no, I’ll come visit you. I’ll prank call you too, and pretend I’m a patient who needs something ridiculous. I’ll keep you on your toes,” Jeongguk promises. “And then next Christmas, I’ll make you another Christmas ornament that’s way better than a pill bottle.”

Jimin giggles. “You’re already planning our next Christmas together?”

Jeongguk smiles. “Aren’t you?”

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Next Christmas…

[mood: “one i’ve been missing” by little mix]

“Careful, careful!”

“Baby, the more you say ‘careful,’ the more I feel like I’m gonna fall.”

“Okay. Sorry. Be careful.”

Jeongguk bursts out laughing and braces himself on the wall above the living room window, because he’s standing on a stepladder to hang some tinsel for decoration. He’s wearing the navy blue sweater that his mother knitted for him last year. Jimin stares up at him, chewing his bottom lip nervously. He’s wearing an emerald green sweater… that Jeongguk’s mother knitted for him for his birthday two months ago as an early Christmas gift so that they could match.

“Just hurry up and hang it,” Jimin insists. “Before I have a heart attack.”

“Says the man who rides on my motorcycle with me multiple times per week,” Jeongguk retorts, adjusting the removable adhesive strip and then draping the silver tinsel onto the hook. “Can’t believe you’re worried about my safety when you had your hand on my dick the other day while I was driving.”

“I did not have my hand on your dick.”

“It was close enough.”

“Was not.”

Jeongguk lets out another laugh, and then he leaps off the stepladder onto the floor after checking that the coast is clear. His feet make a loud thud (their poor downstairs neighbors), and he promptly tackles Jimin onto the couch, blowing a raspberry on his neck as he does. Jimin laughs and crawls into Jeongguk’s lap, straddling him comfortably with his arms hanging around Jeongguk’s neck.

“Don’t be a little Scrooge,” Jeongguk teases, large hands engulfing Jimin’s waist as he leans his head on the backrest of the couch, long eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he flutters them up at Jimin.

“I’m not a Scrooge,” Jimin says with a smile, twirling a strand of Jeongguk’s hair around his finger. “I’m concerned about your safety. Doesn’t that make me a good boyfriend? Or have the qualifications changed these days?”

“No, no. You’re the world’s best boyfriend. That’s why I got you that coffee mug,” Jeongguk says with a grin, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Jimin snickers, shaking his head as he remembers the gaudy WORLD’S BEST BOYFRIEND ❤️ mug Jeongguk got for him on White Day back in March.

“I think the mug I got you is way better,” he argues, and it’s definitely true. He ordered it online months ago and it’s crude, but it’s a Christmas mug that says Charles Dickens Me Down Tonight! It’s Jeongguk’s prized possession, especially since he correlates their relationship with Christmas.

“You got me there.” Jeongguk taps his lips with his pointer finger, so Jimin bends down and kisses him gently, sweetly.

“I love you,” he whispers. “So much. Enough to make another batch of cookies.”

“Now that’s true love,” Jeongguk replies, grinning and glancing over at the burned, failed cookies he made earlier. I’ll make a snowman out of the dough! It’ll be one big-ass cookie! Only for the poor snowman to turn into a bloated lump of burned crisp when taken out of the oven. “I love you too, beautiful.”

“No more massive snowman cookies,” Jimin requests.

“Can I make dick-shaped cookies?” Jeongguk asks, skipping into the kitchen where the rest of the dough is waiting for him. “I could pass them off as Christmas tree ornaments. Just phallic.”

“You know what?” Jimin leans his elbows on the countertop. “I’d love to sit here and watch you shape cookie dough into penises. Let’s see it.”

“I know my way around a penis,” Jeongguk declares, and Jimin bursts out laughing. “Specifically yours. Do you wanna show me yours so that I can model the cookies after it?”

“I literally cannot believe we’ve been together for almost a year,” Jimin laments, and Jeongguk lets out a laugh, spinning over one shoulder to embrace Jimin with a smile.

“Christmas is our season,” he says, kissing the tip of Jimin’s nose. “Just ours. And you’ll be my New Year’s Eve kiss again.”

“I’ll be your everything,” Jimin answers. “Including your midnight kiss.” He kisses Jeongguk firmly. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” Jeongguk replies before he peels away and begins to examine the dough, wondering what he should make instead of giant snowmen or dicks. Jimin slides onto the bar stool to watch, and because he knows Jeongguk likes an audience. And as Jeongguk begins to shape the first cookie, Jimin gazes around their apartment. Their apartment. Their two-bedroom humble abode in the complex across the street from where they first met. A space to call their own. A space that they decorated for Christmas the last week of November because they were too excited. A home where the Christmas tree had homemade ornaments on it, including a new one of Santa with a pharmaceutical prescription as a Christmas list—Jimin’s gift this year.

Christmas is their season. And now that they’ve known each other for a year, for twelve entire months, and loved each other for nearly just as long, Jimin has never felt more like he’s winning at life than now. 

Jimin: 12. Jeongguk: 12.

Tie game.

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