
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11010768.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga/Park_Jimin
  Character:
      Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Park_Jimin_(BTS)
  Additional Tags:
      Prom_Night, losing_their_virginity, Threesome, Poly_Relationship, yoongi
      is_eighteen, hobi_and_jimin_are_seventeen
  Series:
      Part 4 of Sobi_Threesomes
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-27 Words: 2132
****** Show Me If You Want Me, If I’m All That ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Boyfriends SobiMin lose their virginities to one another on prom
     night. (Pretty simple for me, I know.)
Notes
     Hope you guys are enjoying this threesomes series. :) Sorry if this
     was late (it was supposed to go up yesterday). Also yes, the title is
     from the Carly Rae Jepsen song “All That”.
     Let’s be friends? (twt) @teenuviel1227
The hotel room door closes, the click heavy in Yoongi’s ears he finally
realizes: this is tonight, the night. Finally, they’ve arrived at the part of
the evening they’d saved all their allowance up for, the moment in time they’d
spent so much time arguing about over the past month or so leading up to prom
night--Hoseok had been obsessed with linen spray, saying that it made all the
difference in terms of mood, Yoongi had been hell-bent on making the perfect
playlist and making sure they snuck in some alcohol (they’d be nervous for
sure), Jimin had wanted them to wait a little bit longer so it wouldn’t be such
a huge cliche--but what other night would they be allowed to sleepover at a
fancy hotel on the premise of “celebrating with the boys”? On what other night
would the fancy hotels be giving a hefty discount to prom-goers? None, Yoongi
had told them over lunch, emphatically bringing his palm against the cafeteria
table. N o n e. And then there was the matter of who was going to buy the
condoms. They’d played rock-paper-scissors for it and of  course, Yoongi had
lost. It hadn’t been nearly as humiliating as he’d expected, the saleslady
hadn’t even looked up as he’d given her his debit card--and in a way, Yoongi
felt proud. He was buying these things because he was finally going to make
love to the two people on Earth he loved the most. That was something he would
brave any amount of embarrassment for--it had to be.
 
Prom itself was okay. Their friends were there (Taehyung and Jungkook had
spiked the punch, Namjoon and Seokjin spent the entire evening arguing over
lobster and steak), the music was nice, the hotel ballroom was all done up in
beautiful lights, but there was a restraint that ran through the whole event
that made Yoongi feel like it would break him by the time it ended: they
couldn’t dance together the way they’d wanted, they couldn’t hold hands except
under the table, had to keep up the illusion of being just friends. He glances
at Jimin and Hoseok, feels a deep ache in his chest. They look amazing. Hoseok
is wearing a double-breasted navy blue suit that looks like a dream on him: the
color brings out the honey tones in his skin, the deep brown of his eyes, the
cut accentuates the line of his shoulders, his torso, his waist. Jimin is
wearing an English-cut suit in dark gray, the color bringing out the blush in 
his cheeks, making his black hair seem even darker as it’s worn brushed up and
away from his face, strands falling into his eyes in just the right way.
Yoongi’s gaze runs down the length of Jimin’s body as he walks toward the mini-
fridge: the lean line of his back, the taper of his waist, and then the curve,
the sudden giving way of flesh toward his ass. Yoongi smiles to himself. Having
the chance to go out with just one of them would have had him thanking his
stars already--how on earth did he end up with both of them? Yoongi catches a
glimpse of himself in the mirror: black, pinstripe suit, newly-dyed platinum
blonde hair (against his parents’ wishes--although they’d acquiesced in the
end), smart glasses. Not bad, Min Yoongi.
 
As soon as the door clicks shut behind them, they fall to their respective
roles: Jimin goes to put the bottle of wine and three cans of beer they’d
managed to pilfer from home into the mini-fridge, Hoseok starts to light
scented candles, spray the bed with what he’d called “his perfect mix” (it
smelled like newly laundered shirts and vanilla), Yoongi sets the supplies up
on the nightstand--none of them have ever done this before and he really hadn’t
known how many of which to get so he’d gotten three bottles of lube and five
boxes of condoms.
 
“Are you planning to drown us?” Jimin asks jokingly, watching Yoongi set things
up.
 
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You’ll thank me when you’ve got a dick up your ass and
aren’t dying from the burn.”
 
Jimin laughs, his entire body tipping forward, cresting like the laughter is a
wave running through him, landing on Yoongi as Jimin leans on his shoulder.
 
“Okay, it’s done,” Hoseok says, looking up from lighting the last candle and
moving to dim the lights.
 
It’s only then that Yoongi looks around, sees the full extent of what Hoseok’s
done: the warm candlelight illuminating everything, softening the edges,
lending a kind of romance to otherwise ordinary things--the bed, the pillows,
the way that they’re all looking at each other.
 
“So, um,” Yoongi says, smiling as Hoseok comes to join them on the bed, sitting
on the other side of Jimin. “How do we do this?”
 
Hoseok shrugs. “The way we usually do it, I guess. Except--well, you know.”
 
Jimin nods. “Okay.”
 
Hoseok strokes Jimin’s cheek, pushes back a few strands of hair threatening to
fall into his eyes, and kisses him slowly, letting the softness of lips
envelope them before tentatively parting Jimin’s mouth with his tongue,
bringing his hand to Jimin’s nape for support as Jimin tilts his head back,
sighing as the kiss deepens. Yoongi takes Hoseok’s free hand, intertwines it
with his while leaning against Jimin, nuzzling his neck. When Hoseok and Jimin
pull away, lips slick and a little breathless, Jimin tilts Yoongi’s chin toward
him and smiles as he presses their lips together in a kiss. Yoongi admires
Hoseok’s restraint but finds himself unable to do the same: when their lips
touch, he opens his mouth, already begging for Jimin’s tongue--eager, hungry.
Jimin obliges, tasting Yoongi’s tongue with his, nipping at his bottom lip.

Hoseok moves behind Jimin, kissing his nape, letting his arms wander around
Jimin’s back, his chest, his torso, until his fingers find the buttons to his
suit, undoing them slowly as his lips find the lobe of Jimin’s ear, the flesh
so soft, so tender, gooseflesh prickling on the back of his nape as Hoseok
licks, teasing.
 
By the time Yoongi and Jimin come up for air, all three of them are breathless,
warm. Yoongi meets Hoseok’s gaze, smiles wide before pulling him in and kissing
him, both of them already heady with arousal, tongues meeting in the space
between the kiss. Jimin puts a hand on each of their napes, soothing,
encouraging, leaning in now to kiss the hollow of Yoongi’s jaw, now the line of
Hoseok’s throat. For a moment Yoongi thinks he might drown from the way Hoseok
is kissing him: hungry, unwilling to divulge any extra air between them. He
feels his pants get tighter, arousal ripening as Jimin starts to kiss his neck.
He feels the moan building up both in him and Hoseok, set to escape if only
they would give it enough space.
 
“Yoongi? Hobi?” Jimin says gently, coming up from kissing along Hoseok’s
collarbones, their shirts undone now. “I think--I want to um--”
 
They pull apart, look at Jimin.
 
Jimin doesn’t say anything more, just opens his mouth before closing it again,
winking and dropping to his knees between them.
 
Yoongi’s knees shake against the edge of the bed as Jimin takes his time with
them, untucking dress shirts, alternating between them: slowly licking at the
hollows of their hips as he works their pants, underwear down, off of them
until they pool on the floor, discarded with socks, shoes. Yoongi takes
Hoseok’s hand, leans in to kiss him as Jimin starts: first, with Hoseok--Yoongi
watches as Hoseok goes from tense in anticipation to frenzied in pleasure,
squeezing Yoongi’s hand where their hands are joined, free hand coming up to
help Jimin with the rhythm, holding him by the hair: firm but gentle. His moans
punctuate the movement of Jimin’s plump lips, tongue licking at the head of
Hoseok’s cock. Yoongi jolts as Hoseok lets go of his hand, bringing it to
Yoongi’s now-hard cock, sliding his thumb over the slit where pre-cum has
beaded, using the moisture to slowly work the fleshy part of his palm over
Yoongi’s erection. Yoongi lets out a moan laden with desire, deep, gravelly,
train on the tracks setting off as urged on by fire.
 
Jimin’s lips lift at the corners--smiling around Hoseok’s cock--as he goes
harder, faster until Hoseok is on the edge and then he lips up and off,
Hoseok’s hips bucking helplessly. Jimin slowly takes Hoseok’s hand off of
Yoongi’s cock, replacing it with his mouth while reaching over to put Yoongi’s
hand on Hoseok’s cock. Yoongi’s knees give from the warmth and wetness of
Jimin’s mouth, uses his hips instead to thrust into his firm but slack mouth,
throat pulsing against the head of Yoongi’s cock. He makes sure to stroke
Hoseok whose hands are clenching the sheets, hips bucking in anticipation, a
steady whine building loud and long and high at the back of his throat as he
craves release. Yoongi’s own gruff moans mingle with Hoseok’s as Jimin brings
him to the edge and then stops, gets to his feet.
 
“I think we should fuck now,” Jimin says, breathless.
 
“You’re trying to kill us,” Yoongi says, voice hoarse.
 
Hoseok grins as he wiggles out of Yoongi’s grip to take off the rest of his
clothes. Jimin follows suit and Yoongi watches them for a moment: how
wonderfully the fabric gives way to flesh--Jimin with his frame that alternates
between lean lines and tender, plump flesh, Hoseok with his body that looks
like it was made to be seen, all perfect proportions, shapely legs tense with
arousal.

“Excuse me, Mr. Min,” Hoseok says. “Please get naked. Your boyfriends want to
do it now.”
 
Yoongi snaps out of it, grinning as he undresses in a hurry, tearing a button
off of his shirt by accident. “Fuck.”
 
The sex is clumsy, full of giggling, fumbling with slippery hands, grimacing
against new sensations, laughing as they find where it tickles and where it
doesn’t, where it feels odd and where it feels good--too good. They struggle
for a moment with the condoms, getting the pinch-and-roll just right over taut
flesh and in the end, they choose something safe, close, warm: Hoseok curled
around Yoongi curled around Jimin, lying on their sides on the bed, arms around
each other, sweat and desire mingled on their skin.
 
Hoseok sets the rhythm, pushing into Yoongi slow but as deep as he can manage,
moaning, aching against the softness of him, the warmth of him, and also
pushing him into Jimin, Yoongi clutching at the tender flesh of Jimin’s hips,
thighs, his hands shaking against the tender flesh as Jimin rolls against them,
voice high and breathless, pitch shaky, lips parted and slick with spit.
Yoongi’s voice rings the loudest, abandoning its baritone to give way to a
high, aching mewl he hadn’t realized he could manage as Hoseok hits his
prostate, pushing against it hard and sending a wave of pleasure coursing
through him which is doubled when Jimin moves back against him: caught in the
rip tide. Yoongi cums inside Jimin as Hoseok hits his prostate with the final,
crucial thrust, filling the condom with hot, white, heat. He moans, clutching
Jimin closer as Hoseok continues to fuck into him, chasing his own climax which
follows soon after, Hoseok cumming inside him, voice high and loud and broken
ringing throughout the room. Breathless but riled on by momentum, Hoseok pulls
out of Yoongi, pulls the condom off and moves until he’s lying between Jimin’s
legs, Jimin’s hard cock in his mouth. Jimin’s back arches as Yoongi uses the
last of his strength to hit his prostate one last time, Hoseok taking over and
taking his cock in deep, letting the head hit the back of his throat, keeping
his tongue fast against slit, shaft, base. Jimin’s pulls on Hoseok’s hair,
holding him steady as he thrusts faster, harder into him, going until he cums
fast into Hoseok’s mouth, shuddering as he goes. Hoseok tries to swallow but
chokes a little bit, grinning as some of the cum trickles out of his mouth and
onto his chin. He wipes the edge of his mouth as Jimin pulls him back into
their embrace.
 
They lie there for a moment, warm, content, savoring the feeling of skin
against skin, sweat against sweat, their hearts beating against one another,
each unable to distinguish which belongs to whom. Yoongi lets his eyes flutter
shut, kissing Jimin’s nape. Jimin grins, snuggling against the soft hair on the
back of Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok hums lazily, bringing Jimin’s arms tighter around
him. It wasn’t perfect, Yoongi thinks. But it's perfect.
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