Chapter Text
Jimin had been doing this for quite some time now. Every country he’d been in outside of his own, really. Any time that he’d had a free night, he would spend it out on the city with some of his bandmates, typically Taehyung and Seokjin, sometimes Jungkook.
Unfortunately, as the years passed, it became harder and harder to feel completely relaxed. To feel like a normal person. Their fame had increased tenfold, making it much harder to remain anonymous even in countries on the other side of the globe. Ordering a drink sometimes felt like committing some kind of criminal act, god forbid somebody snaps a photo and leaks it online.
The boys found themselves going to clubs generally directed toward the older, rougher crowd of people. Of course, this varied greatly from place to place, but the reality was that they were much less likely to be recognized by a bunch of men in a sports bar than, say, a typical college age club.
Either way they made it work, managing to get absolutely wasted in damn near every place they visited. Usually, they would try and pick up girls. But it was very, very difficult to determine when one of them was really, truly not a fan and had no idea who they were. It was messy, hectic, and stressful.
On the other hand, the men in these bars almost always seemed to be completely oblivious to who they were talking to. Jimin could recall a scary moment back in 2016 when a man in a bar somewhere in the back alleys of Paris had recognized him, trying his absolute hardest to get him drunk enough to ignore any possible trouble he’d get into.
Jimin didn’t realize the man knew him until he was about four drinks in, and Seokjin had to essentially swoop in and save him. That was it though, no negative experiences with men since. But the thing is, men weren’t who he was supposed to be talking to anyway. He wasn’t gay.
He wasn’t gay until 2018, that is. Somewhere in Bangkok, he’d gotten to talking with this man who looked to be around his age. Dark hair, sharp features, deep voice. He’d drank an insatiable amount, he’d completely lost track of how much he’d been consuming over the course of the night.
Before he knew it, he was being dragged to the bathroom by the sleeve of his sweater by the man, who was stumbling a bit himself. He was brought into a stall, shoved against the flimsy door, and suddenly he was being felt up. He vaguely remembered looking down through skewed and impaired vision, seeing the man on his knees before him.
He couldn’t recall the rest of that experience the next day, and he panicked after realizing that he very well could’ve been caught by Taehyung or Jungkook, the two accompanying him that night. Thankfully, there were no mentions of anything weird, and the focus seemed to be on the absolute score Jungkook had been bragging about to everyone.
Jimin thought about that night constantly, obsessively, for weeks and weeks. Months. It made him insatiably horny, and it made him rethink a lot of things. He started to watch gay porn. Well, bisexual at first, he thought it would ‘ease him in’ as ridiculous as that was. It made him feel less embarrassed, somehow.
But that didn’t last long, and suddenly every time he went to watch porn, it was men. Always men. It just did something different to him. Hell, he’d even stopped hooking up with women during those night time excursions. Taehyung gave him shit for it sometimes, thinking it was because Jimin just didn’t know how to flirt.
He was much too afraid to approach a man himself in a bar. If they did end up being a fan, they could completely destroy his career. That hookup in Thailand slowly started to feel more and more like some distant fantasy, or maybe even some weird fever dream. He’d started to accept that it likely wouldn’t happen again, or at least for a very, very long time.
But then sometime in 2019, in Los Angeles, a man much, much bigger than him caught his eye. Jimin had a few drinks down at that point, and he was feeling more confident than usual. He looked around and saw the occasional man on man make out session, maybe a man grinding on another man. It made him feel a little less anxious, at least in regards to how the general population would take it.
Jungkook was the only one with him this time, and he was long gone, likely off with some girl he met. He got laid the most, that was for sure. He had a formula down that worked for him and only him, and it was something the other members begged to be taught.
Jimin noted a lot from how Jungkook worked over the years, though, usually very polite at first, coming off as a leader, confident and relaxed. He was seemingly immune to embarrassment, and frankly, rejection. Jimin never really got rejected, either, but adding the same-sex layer to this process made it seem so difficult that it wouldn’t even be worth trying.
But something got Jimin up off his barstool where he sat alone, and he approached the large man. Almost instantly, the man’s eyes raked over Jimin, clearly interested. He’d never been so sure of something in his life. Jimin offered to buy him a drink, but the man insisted he do it himself.
They sat at the bar together and drank more, more, more. Jimin had built a decent tolerance for himself, but this was starting to really get to him. He wanted to at least be clear headed enough to remember what he hoped was going to happen soon.
They spoke for a while, and Jimin tried to remember the questions he tended to ask to gauge whether he’d been recognized or not. The man said he didn’t listen to anything that came out after the 90s, especially not ‘that pop bullshit’ to put it in his words. Pretentious, annoying, but safe. He learned that the man was a mechanic, enjoyed hunting in his free time, and that he was really from a small town somewhere on the other side of the United States. Definitely safe, maybe.
Jimin lied and said he was from Japan. A panicked and frankly stupid lie, but he thought Korea would be a little too on the nose. The guy wouldn’t know the difference, he seemed dull. Hot, but dull. His accent gave away that he wasn’t from around LA, or even the US, so he just kind of pulled it out of his ass in the moment.
He was honestly very polite about the language barrier. Explaining things with his hands, occasionally showing him pictures on his phone to better paint a picture. Eventually, the man grew quieter, and wouldn’t stop looking Jimin up and down. It was painfully obvious, and Jimin knew now would be the time to make a move, if ever.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached a timid hand out to rest on the man’s thigh. Instantly, the man turned to him, grabbed him by the chin, and pulled him into a kiss. It was aggressive, like nothing he’d ever felt before. Most girls were so gentle, he usually took the lead. Here he felt small, especially with the long fingers wrapped around the contours of his jaw, pressing into his skin as if he intended to bruise.
It was a blur, but somehow Jimin ended up in the back seat of a car with the man, who he couldn’t see very well in the dark. Either way, he could tell that his hand, his hips, his groin, had all brushed up against the man’s erection. It was an incredibly bizarre thing to feel somebody else’s hard-on. He felt like a massive pervert, but the alcohol made this irrelevant.
He recalled sucking the man off, he recalled being fingered, he recalled the strain in his leg muscles as they were pinned back by his head a bit too far, he recalled the feeling of cum rolling down his lower lip and neck. Unfortunately, he’d drank too much to remember the smaller moments, or the transitional details. Hell, he didn’t even remember the make or model of the car, or if the seats were fabric or leather. He just remembered feeling used, and that he liked it.
He jerked off to the memory of that night for months. So many new experiences in one go. Picking up men in bars in secret had sort of become a thing for Jimin. He was getting quite good at it, none of the members suspecting a thing. He’d even started crafting stories about sleeping with girls, just to keep them off his back. Sometimes, he would even sneak out to bars by himself. It was the highlight of his life, really. Something to always look forward to.
He had a method, getting the men to buy him drinks, shower him with compliments, call him pretty, dirty, a slut. The whole nine yards. He didn’t learn the names of a lot of these men, and when he did, he would make up a fake name for himself. Something different every time. A different country of origin every time. Whatever made him look the least suspicious.
He finally fully bottomed for the first time in 2020. It seemed crazy, that was such a long stretch of time to wait. But it was scary to him, and most of the guys just wanted a quick handjob outside by the dumpsters anyway. It was in a very shabby hotel room that reeked of marijuana. It was also, as fate would have it, in Los Angeles. With a man who was somehow thinner than him, taller, and bleach blond, definitely natural. He had an accent, likely from northern Europe, and it made the language barrier so, so much worse. But that was okay, because the man was good at moving the conversation along in other ways.
Jimin wasn’t sober by any means, but definitely not drunk either. He finally remembered the full experience, and it only made him feel more insatiable. The man offered him a hit from the joint he’d rolled rather poorly, and Jimin refused. He wanted to keep his career, this would absolutely be game over. Thankfully, the man didn’t pressure him, and that was that. He threw him down on the creaky, extraordinarily uncomfortable bed, and stripped him down.
The man was slow and careful, but still somehow ravenous and determined. There wasn’t much foreplay, but Jimin didn’t need it. After the blond man fingered him for a good while, Jimin thought he might cum soon. Very soon. The man noticed this, thankfully, and took no time to push his cock right inside where his fingers had been, making Jimin cry out.
It took a little getting used to, but eventually, Jimin was into it. His hands kept instinctively reaching up to cover his face, his mouth, his eyes, anything. It was humiliating how hard it was to keep his composure. He had no idea this is what he was missing out on all this time. The man came inside of him, falling into a drunk sleep before Jimin could even catch his breath.
Jimin finished himself off right there in the bed next to him. It was possibly the hardest orgasm he’d ever had in his life. Feeling the hot cum pooling between his legs after the man pulled out was simply too much to bear. He cleaned up and let himself out of the hotel room before anyone could get suspicious of anything.
– – –
It was approaching midnight, again in the United States. This time, somewhere in the Florida Keys. Jimin wasn’t actually sure, and frankly, he didn’t really care. He was out with Seokjin and Jungkook, sitting at the bar in what had to be the darkest club on the planet. They could barely see each other, and the background of people dancing and socializing was reduced to black silhouettes among the dim but flashing party lights. Something out of a movie, really.
It was hard to hear each other too. Music was way too loud, people were screaming and laughing in the background, Jungkook and Seokjin looked remarkably upset. They didn’t even finish their drinks before deciding they would ditch and go elsewhere. Jimin appreciated that they insisted he come with them, but he made up some excuse about really wanting to try a certain drink, and that he would catch up later. To his surprise, the flimsy excuse was enough to get them to leave him alone.
Now, the real challenge was finding someone to hit on. He had it down to a science at this point in time, but it was so goddamn hard to see anything that he didn’t even know where to begin. A few more shots and he’d be good to explore away from the bar. Sure.
In the middle of his fourth (fifth maybe?) shot, he got a text from Jungkook:
‘hoseok and yoongi are out together we’re gonna look around :D we’ll let u know if we find them’
Jimin felt a brief moment of panic. The chances that Hoseok and Yoongi had come to this exact club in such a heavily party oriented area were near zero. Surely. He replied to Jungkook with a simple ‘ok’ and took just one more shot for confidence.
Wading his way through a crowd of people he couldn’t see turned out to be significantly more awkward than he thought. There was a woman who was beyond drunk that crashed into him pretty hard, and he almost caught an elbow in the face more than once. Eventually he settled into a corner, or at least that’s what he thought it was, and sort of waited for something to happen, someone to approach.
After about five minutes of standing in place and waiting, Jimin felt stupid and decided to head back to the bar. However, on the way, he bumped into what he assumed was a man. The mystery person grabbed him around the waist and whispered a low ‘sorry’ in his ear, so close that his lips made partial contact with the side of his neck. After all, that would be the only way to really hear someone in here.
This would have been a brief and forgettable interaction, but the man’s hands remained on Jimin’s waist, pulling him in close. Jimin’s ass made contact with the man’s groin, and he felt hot and heavy breathing on his nape. Caught him off guard, but it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before.
They just kind of stayed there for a while, the man feeling Jimin up and down, getting increasingly more inappropriate with his hand placement. Nobody noticed them, and they couldn’t notice anyone else. Still too dark and too loud.
Just as this thought floated through Jimin’s head, the man leaned down to whisper in his ear again. Not all of it was understandable, but he did catch the words ‘bathroom’ and ‘come with’, and it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. He swore he heard a twinge of an accent, astoundingly similar to his.
Jimin hesitated, but allowed the man to take him by the hand. As he parted through the congested crowd, he realized that this was the first time he’d had no idea who he was with. He could usually at least make out some facial features, or even get a name or age out of them. But this was completely anonymous.
Anonymous was good. It was convenient. This could be a fan and he would never know. This was good.
After a rather lengthy walk through the crowded club, they reached a hallway with a few dimly lit signs pointing to the restrooms. He noticed the one single bathroom in between the men’s and women’s rooms, and he prayed that’s where he was being taken. Privacy was important, and he could get a little too comfortable risking it sometimes.
Thankfully, that was the bathroom they ended up standing in front of. The man let go of Jimin and knocked on the door in a sort of sing song rhythm. The same rhythm was returned on the other side of the door, and Jimin figured they must know each other. Before he could really process, Jimin was dragged into the room and the door was locked behind him.
It was pitch black. So much worse than outside. He could only go by touch, sound, smell. That was the thing that struck him first. The cologne coming off of the man was so very familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Odd.
He was immediately pinned up against the door by who he could only assume was the other person. Another man. A little taller, maybe a bit more muscular, but not too much. Before he knew it, he was kissed and groped again, this guy had no hesitation.
He smelled familiar too. A different cologne than the other man, but still familiar. Jimin was beginning to really wonder who these people were, and he cursed himself for it. It didn’t matter, it was too late. If the lights turned on and it ended up being someone who recognized Jimin it would be over. Plain and simple. He made himself stop thinking, directing his attention toward the action instead.
Whoever this was, he was good. Like, really good. He seemed to really take a liking to Jimin’s ass, his neck, his hips. It was getting him hard fast. It seemed the man felt this way too, he could feel their clothed erections rubbing against each other with every slight movement.
Jimin had almost forgotten that there was still another man in there, the same man who brought him there in the first place. He was making little comments in semi broken English under his breath at the performance of who he assumed was his friend. Boyfriend? Fuck buddy? Who cares.
Every comment he made was a little louder, like he was gaining confidence as time went on, and god, did he sound familiar. This was becoming very suspicious, did Jimin know these guys? Maybe he was just too fucked up.
The man kissing him finally pulled away to respond to one of the comments with a vague “yes”, and Jimin felt his heartbeat in his throat. He sounded uncannily similar to Hoseok. He shook that thought from his head immediately. No fucking way. Just a crazy coincidence, obviously.
The man who sounded eerily like his bandmate went back to kissing him, more aggressively this time. As fate would have it, every time Jimin was shoved up against the wall had his back rubbing up against something kind of pointy. After a second of trying to deliberate what it was, Jimin was too late.
It was a light switch.
The lights were accidentally flicked on, and god were they bright. Jimin tried to adjust his eyes, not bothering to get a look at the two men just yet. When he could finally open his eyes more than just a squint, he damn near screamed.
Hoseok’s face was inches from his, grip on his ass still unreasonably tight. Jimin tried to stutter out a surprised reaction, but all he could do was stand there frozen.
A ‘fuck’ coming from the other end of the room brought Jimin’s attention to the other man. Yoongi, in the middle of putting his hair up, stood frozen in disbelief. He cursed a few more times, frantically moving to pull Hoseok back off of Jimin.
They didn’t look at each other, at all. The disbelief seemed to only be toward Jimin’s presence, and he very quickly put two and two together. Or at least he thought he did.
Hoseok began apologizing profusely and cursing back and forth, rubbing his hands over his face with a notable degree of aggression. The words ‘oh my god’ left his lips around six consecutive times, and he was clearly spiraling fast.
Yoongi remained cool, or at least as cool as someone could in such a situation, patting Hoseok on the shoulder as if telling him to pull it together.
It dawned on Jimin that Yoongi was the one who brought him to the bathroom in the first place. He had been groped and grinded on by two of his bandmates who he assumed were most definitely straight. In fact, what the fuck were they doing here together in the first place?
“We- uh,” Hoseok started, making very brief and panicked eye contact with Jimin. Hoseok’s face was red, and his ears were even redder. He was still very visibly hard. He’d never seen him so embarrassed before. “We thought-“
“We didn’t think you were here.” Yoongi interrupted. He seemed to be losing his cool composure with each sentence. He took a deep breath. “We usually- I mean, Hoseok and I, um-“
He was cut off by Jimin’s phone ringing. He turned it on to see what looked like a million missed texts from Jungkook. However, it was Seokjin who was calling him. Yoongi made a frantic hand motion to tell Jimin to answer the phone, keeping himself and Hoseok as silent as possible.
“Hello?” Jimin’s voice echoed in his head. His mouth was so dry and his hands were shaking horribly.
Seokjin explained that he and Jungkook had failed at locating Yoongi and Hoseok, and that they were going to head home. He mentioned something about Jungkook being way too drunk, and everyone could hear his slurred rambling and laughing in the background of the phone call.
Jimin swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to reply. He couldn’t think of anything to say, despite the conversation being incredulously normal.
Seokjin asked if Jimin was still at that club, and like an idiot, he said yes. Of course, Seokjin brought up the brilliant idea of picking him up on the walk back to the hotel. Jimin said okay, and immediately realized his mistake. Yoongi and Hoseok were both hurriedly mouthing the word ‘no’ and reaching out toward him as if that would somehow reverse the action.
Seokjin stopped replying, clearly busy babysitting Jungkook, so Jimin just said ‘I’ll see you’ before hanging up the call himself. The three of them stood still for a minute, looking down at the floor.
Eventually, Yoongi spoke, grabbing Hoseok by the wrist. “We’re gonna go before Seokjin gets here.” He walked toward the door, dragging the near incoherent Hoseok behind him. He stopped very, very close to Jimin, making rather angry eye contact. “Don’t tell a fucking soul.”