focus on me {jimin/hoseok, nc-17}

[agustd]

jimin/hoseok- nc-17 - 4744w
it continues like that- jimin reading, hoseok pressing gentle kisses against his neck to keep him distracted just enough not to get bored, rubbing little circles into his skin through his clothes. it’s the normal process for them, and jimin droops just slightly against the elder. it’s nice. despite the nature of their relationship, it’s just nice to be near each other like this- even if hoseok is sliding his hand across jimin’s thigh every so often, nipping just hard enough on the skin of his neck to make him stutter over a word here or there, teasing without trying. as long as jimin can finish his work, he’ll let hoseok do whatever he wants to him- he just had to wait.
warnings: pwp, office sex, authority kink
a/n: for my favorite babe in the entire world for our first year anniversary, jxxnggxk!!!! i hope u enjoy ur porn u sinner (ily)
alt links: ao3


On a boring Sunday night when almost the entire office has already gone home, Jimin allows himself to loosen up a little. He only has one stack of paperwork left to go through for Mr. Jung, even Jeongguk has left for the night, and Yoongi is sound asleep. All things considered, he’s in the clear.

Mr. Jung’s office is on the top floor, taking up all of the floor space in what was also the smallest floor in the building- bigger on the bottom, smaller on the top. The Jung Co. Building was only a few years old, brand new and situated in the center of Gangnam as if to announce it’s wealthy origins to the world. When Jimin had been hired, he had been starstruck by the whole thing- now, he thinks as he waits in the elevator as it ascends to the top floor, that he’s immune to it all. The glamour of money tends to die down eventually when it’s not the most important thing in your life.

“I’m coming inside, Mr. Jung,” Jimin announces curtly, before opening the door with his stack of paperwork tucked neatly under one arm, and he tries not to smile at the way Hoseok practically looks half asleep. Of course, he shouldn’t expect much better- it’s nearly midnight, and it wasn’t a common thing for him to stay in so late. But it was still endearing.

“I’ve asked you not to call me that, Jimin,” Hoseok complained, blearily blinking up at his secretary, from what had surely been a nap. He must’ve loosened his tie a long time ago, because his suit jacket is hanging on the back of his chair, shirt loose and rumpled. “At least when no one is around. It’s not like half of the upper floor doesn’t know we’re doing this, anyway, but no one looks at the cameras anyways.”

Jimin laughs- crossing the gap between the desk and the doorway quietly, trailing his fingers along the metal playfully while Hoseok raised his eyebrows in amused interest. “But what if I like calling you Mr. Jung, hm?”

“Well, I’m sure something can be arranged,” Hoseok hums back, the noise becoming appreciative when Jimin is in front of him, still as crisp and proper as he was when he arrived at work this morning. “I’m still amazed I let you dye your hair that color. Red, how unprofessional.”

“Who are you to talk about professionalism?” Jimin scoffed, and it’s easy to slip into his lap, as if it wasn’t breaching twenty company protocols that Hoseok only allowed for the sake of saving face. He keeps the stack of paperwork on hand, smiling mischievously down at Hoseok. “Who was it that made the first move, again?”

Hoseok’s face turns several degrees less amused, far more interested in the affair of one Park Jimin straddling his hips in his office chair. “You make a good point,” he agrees, stroking one thumb along Jimin’s hip. “But it’s your fault for being so beautiful, so.”

“You make a good point.”

“I always do.”

But Jimin didn’t come to flirt with Hoseok- well, flirt with him immediately- and he adjusts himself until he’s comfortable, sitting back enough to pull the paperwork out in front of him and see it properly. Hoseok makes a face of disgust, and Jimin shushes him. “I was bored, and I need to finish these, so I wanted to make it interesting.” A brief smile again. “You can wait, can’t you?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Hoseok’s fingers tap against Jimin’s hip as if in warning, and Jimin takes the challenge for what it is, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll see if you can keep me distracted.”

Jimin leans forward to get more comfortable, clearing his throat and resting against him, wrapping his arms around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Business name: Jung Co. & Associates; Date of Incorporation: November 16th, 1973…”

It’s mind-numbing stuff to go over- checking every word for some kind of flaw, a misprint, even a bad phrasing, despite the fact that the most important eyes that will ever see most of these documents are Jimin himself. So sometimes, they do this- turn it into a little game, a way to pass the time without shirking off the work that does actually need to be done.

Maybe it’s inconvenient, sometimes, but Yoongi rarely complains when Jimin leaves Hoseok’s office with a stack of finished paperwork and a fresh hickey just barely hidden under his collar. At least they try to be discreet. Emphasis on try.

(They don’t actually try very hard. It would only be a problem if anyone who even knew their little affair was a thing actually cared.)

“Is Yoongi gone, yet?” Hoseok asks, mouthing the words against Jimin’s neck. The younger shakes his head absentmindedly, answering him without pausing. “Then he’s passed out?” Jimin nods, and Hoseok makes a noise of approval, because they both know the three of them are the only ones who would stay this late. The most common reason for Yoongi was that he passed out before actually making it home- and Jeongguk or Jimin would often have to wake him up on their way out, get him into a cab and send him on his way.

And both of them knew that Yoongi could sleep through just about anything. They had tested it, unfortunately.

“The completion of this form will fulfil your corporation’s records requirement per…” Jimin continued, ignoring Hoseok’s hands wandering down past his hips, reading over his shoulder. “Corporate records: each company shall complete…”

It continues like that- Jimin reading, Hoseok pressing gentle kisses against his neck to keep him distracted just enough not to get bored, rubbing little circles into his skin through his clothes. It’s the normal process for them, and Jimin droops just slightly against the elder. It’s nice. Despite the nature of their relationship, it’s just nice to be near each other like this- even if Hoseok is sliding his hand across Jimin’s thigh every so often, nipping just hard enough on the skin of his neck to make him stutter over a word here or there, teasing without trying. As long as Jimin can finish his work, he’ll let Hoseok do whatever he wants to him- he just had to wait.

He manages to make it halfway through the stack when Hoseok sucks a hard hickey on Jimin’s neck and Jimin chokes out a gasp, holding onto the chair in surprise. “H- Hoseok!” he admonishes, red.

“What?” Hoseok replies, cheeky, one thumb pressing into Jimin’s inner thigh, pulling back to give him a grin. “What’s wrong, babe?”

Jimin swallows at the affectionate nickname, and resists the urge to smack Hoseok on the head with the papers he was trying to read. “You know the rules, let me finish before we do anything.”

When Hoseok makes a noise of affirmation, Jimin expects him to listen to him- which is funny, considering the fact that Hoseok is kind of his boss and also kind of an asshole who only listens to Jimin whenever he goes out of line, in or outside of the bedroom- but he doesn’t, of course. Jimin starts on another sentence only to be interrupted by Hoseok’s hands on his belt, trying to tug it free from the loops without being discreet. Jimin pulls back, this time, trying to look angry (it probably isn’t working, and it rarely does) when Hoseok fixes him with an innocent look.

“Behave,” he scolds, and he tries not to think about how any of their coworkers would react if they saw the two of them like this- Hoseok’s secretary ordering him to play nice and swatting him on the head with papers. He tries to keep their relationship out of the workplace- he really does- but even Yoongi sideeyes them, sometimes.

They aren’t as discreet as they think they are.

“But you’re just so cute,” Hoseok pouts, and as if to rub salt into the wound, rests one daring hand over Jimin’s zipper, not low enough to receive another swat to the head but still enough to make Jimin glare at him harder. “How am I supposed to concentrate when you look this cute, Jimin? It’s impossible. Completely impossible.”

“You can deal with it, I agreed to come over tonight anyways,” Jimin exhales sharply, trying not to let his face turn any redder than it already is. (Which is ironic, considering the fact that Hoseok has definitely done worse things to Jimin in this chair.) “Let me do my work.”

Hoseok normally leaves Jimin be, but he just seems indignant tonight, shooting Jimin a look that could only be translated as ‘you wish’ before the young CEO could lean back and gesture for him to continue. Jimin hates how confident he is, sometimes- it’s aggravating, to the highest degree.

Jimin fixes the elder with one last warning before starting once again, obstinately ignoring Hoseok’s hand when they find his belt again, deciding that the best course of action in this situation was to act like he wasn’t there. Doing these things. Trying to make Jimin as distracted as possible.

He fails, horribly, of course. Nothing else is to be expected. Jimin can pride himself on the fact that at least he made it this far in relation to the paperwork- only a few more things to go- when Hoseok dips his hand down to squeeze him, eliciting a startled groan from the younger.

“You’re being a l-little shit, you know that?” Jimin breathes, and he can feel the failure when Hoseok just smiles back up at him again, already letting Hoseok pull the papers away from his hands and discard them somewhere unknown. “I’m trying to finish my work and you won’t let me-”

“You can do the rest tomorrow,” Hoseok encourages, already untucking Jimin’s shirt and sneaking his fingers up to dance across his abdomen. “I don’t feel like waiting.”

“If I get in trouble from Yoongi hyung for it, it’s your fault,” and he gasps again when Hoseok tugs insistently at his slacks, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Hoseok’s hair. “You are unbelievable.”

“But you’re letting me do this, so are you really that upset about it?” Hoseok hums with a laugh, pulling Jimin’s hips down until they’re flush against each other, button and zipper undone and Jimin becoming more and more flustered by the minute.

And he really can’t counter that. He can’t, so he doesn’t, and takes the opportunity to kiss Hoseok instead, because if Hoseok is going to make him skip out on paperwork, then he might as well make it good.

Jimin fists his fingers into Hoseok’s shirt and kisses him slow, adding more wrinkles to what had already been present, spreading his legs to get closer until they’re practically chest to chest. Hoseok pulls away to grin, that shit-eating grin, because he knew he won- and Jimin doesn’t care anymore. The elder’s hands make quick work of Jimin’s pants, tugging them off while Jimin lifts himself up so that Hoseok can push them down his legs and onto the floor, before he’s palming Jimin through his briefs and Jimin is muffling whines into Hoseok’s shoulder. His glasses are pressing against his face a little painfully, but neither of them seem to care- Jimin undoes Hoseok’s tie and dispatches it to the floor as well, leaning back up to lick into Hoseok’s mouth while rocking into his hand, shaky fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“Get on the desk, babe,” Hoseok says in this soft, low tone, and Jimin has to swallow down a shiver when he stumbles off of Hoseok’s lap to do what he’s told, haphazardly pushing aside the papers on the desk before sitting on top of it. This seems to please Hoseok- he undoes what was left of his shirt and lets it fall, standing up and stepping into the space between Jimin’s thighs, both hands on either side of the metal trapping him in. “God, how many times have I told you how good you look with your tie on like that?”

“Too many times,” Jimin admits, letting out a shaky laugh that descends into a soft moan when Hoseok skirts his fingers across the younger’s clothed erection, pressing down just slightly. “A- A lot of times, Mr. Jung.”

Mr. Jung. That causes a change in Hoseok’s demeanor, and if he looked mean before, he looks downright predatory now- he’s always been well built, and his muscles are coiled as if he’s holding back, as if he’s conscious of the fact that Yoongi is still asleep on one of the floors below them. “It’s a good thing you came in to work today with one on, then, isn’t it?”

Yes, it is, Jimin wants to say, but his mouth just falls open when Hoseok’s eyes trail down Jimin’s body, appreciative and slow, and Jimin waits. “But you always look good,” Hoseok finishes, one hand pushing Jimin’s thighs apart, “so it’s just the cherry on top.”

Hoseok kisses him again this time, biting on his lip and drawing out a louder moan from the younger’s lips, getting both hands on Jimin’s ass to pull them closer together (almost enough that Jimin is nearly half off of the desk) so that he can grind against him. They move in tandem- Jimin’s fingers find themselves in Hoseok’s hair, tugging and pulling the harder they rock against each other. Hoseok finally pulls away long enough to let Jimin breathe for longer than a few moments, and Jimin pants out against his neck, dizzy and hard, almost whimpering when Hoseok digs his fingers into Jimin’s ass.

“Does it feel good, babe?” and Jimin nods enthusiastically, face red in the crux of Hoseok’s neck. “How badly do you want it, tell me.”

It should sound bad. It sounds like dry porn dialogue- although sometimes, all sex does- but everything Hoseok does is intense, makes Jimin feel like there’s a fire under his skin, like a hot wire ready to be bent to Hoseok’s will. He doesn’t know what it is about him that does it- the charisma, the harsh glint Hoseok gets sometimes when they’re like this, the confident hands that love to pull him apart and push him back together and leave no room for indecision. Being with Hoseok, like this, right here, is electrifying- and he leaves him wanting more, always more.

“Y-You said no one else watches the cameras, right,” Jimin says instead, and he already knows the answer- they’ve done this too many times already that they’re just falling into the same routine.

“Just me,” Hoseok finishes, mouthing at the dark hickey he’d left on Jimin’s neck earlier. “I make sure to keep all of the ones of us on a separate flashdrive, just so no one else can see.” He bites down, and Jimin lets out a startled moan. “No one else should get to see you like that, anyways.”

The possessiveness hadn’t been a part of it, initially. Originally, this had just been the lingering attraction under their skin ever since Hoseok hired him- they were only a few years apart, perfectly within the same age range, and Hoseok had a kind of funny humor to him that drew Jimin in like a magnet. Even with the difference in their position, Jimin just liked him- and Hoseok flirted back, took Jimin out on more than one anything-but-a-date, treated him nice. Hoseok could be- and was- sweet; but the longer they did this, whatever it was, the more they grew on each other, the more it felt real.

Because they weren’t together, not really- Hoseok had taken him out, done all of the steps without either of them being exposed as having feelings for each other to anyone else, even gone so far as gotten him flowers that one special time. But they weren’t in a quote unquote relationship, even though it had been months since this had started- a lot of it was sweet dates when Hoseok had the time, and… sex.

Not that Jimin complained much, because he really did like Hoseok. A lot. He really, really liked him- and the sex was great, too, obviously. But he wanted it to be real. Even if Hoseok wasn’t supposed to let it be real, he wanted it to be.

And the more real it felt, the more Hoseok got like this- less gentle, more possessive, going harder and leaving Jimin more breathless. It left him with a mixture of feelings that bordered between excitement and apprehension, if only because he wanted a name for this. Something to call Hoseok more than ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Jung’ outside of the bedroom. Or to call him Hoseok even when others were looking, to be able to curl into his side like he always wanted to whenever it was particularly cold and Hoseok took Jimin along to one of his meetings in Busan or Gwangju.

He wanted it to be more.

Hoseok didn’t notice Jimin’s lapse in thoughts- too busy running his hands up Jimin’s thighs so that he could pull his briefs away, mouthing at Jimin’s neck and leaving little marks wherever he could, spiriting his glasses away. It seems like Hoseok’s long since stopped trying to hide them, and Jimin lets his head fall back to give him better access, biting down on his lip when Hoseok gets a hand on him. He knows too well how to handle him, working his hand up and down Jimin’s dick in smooth strokes. Jimin buries his face in Hoseok’s shoulder and clings to him, gasping out encouragements whenever Hoseok would flick his wrist just right or left another dark mark on his skin, and if he wasn’t so lost already in the feeling, he might push Hoseok off long enough so that he wouldn’t ruin another work shirt from cum stains and too many nights spent in the office doing things they shouldn’t be.

Jimin’s attention falls to the fact that Hoseok is still wearing his pants- which is entirely unfair in every way possible- and he pushes Hoseok’s hand away, leaning forward to hook his fingers into the elder’s belt loops and tug him just that much closer. “Yours should be off, too,” Jimin says insistently, eyes dark and amused. “As much as I like being pinned to your desk, sir-” and god, fuck, god he really does- “I like it a little bit more when I can tell you like it just as much as I do.”

The words he says seem to have the wanted effect- Hoseok makes this low noise in his throat and surges forward to kiss Jimin again, and he doesn’t stop Jimin from pulling his belt away, from undoing his slacks and letting them fall, from squeezing him hard enough to elicit a groan into Jimin’s mouth. Hoseok has his hand in Jimin’s hair, now, and Jimin makes ample use of the time he has to pull off his boxers and get a hand on him too, kissing Hoseok back just as fervently.

They nearly dissolve like that, jacking eachother off and groaning into each other's mouths, and Jimin would be fine with that- ruined shirt aside- but Hoseok stops them, panting against Jimin’s lips more than kissing him, catching his breath. “Did you clean?”

The question runs electricity through Jimin’s skin. “Of course, I was already planning on coming over tonight-”

“Good,” Hoseok interrupts him, fixing him with one last kiss that made Jimin’s legs weak before pulling away entirely. “Good, because I’m not waiting until we get home.”

He tugs Jimin off of the desk to turn him around, not even bothering to make him take his shirt off, opening one drawer to rummage around for something. (Of course Hoseok keeps lube in here- of course. Jimin wasn’t surprised the first time this happened, and he isn’t surprised now.) Hoseok leans over him to press little kisses into his back, mouthing at him despite the sweat soaking through the shirt (ew) while he uncapped something behind him, and Jimin holds his breath and braces himself against the desk.

It’s expected, the first finger, but Jimin still gasps at the feeling of something wet against his hole so suddenly, despite Hoseok’s soothing noises. Hoseok takes that as his cue to wait- and he takes his time, rubbing the digit around the rim before pressing in slowly, while Jimin buries his face into his arm to muffle any noises. The discomfort melts away quickly, and it isn’t long before Hoseok is pressing in a second finger and scissoring them inside of him and Jimin has to fight himself not to moan loud enough for the entire building to hear them, especially Yoongi. (Who is still probably passed out.)

“G-God, fuck, Hoseok-” Jimin breathes out, and he receives a harsh slap to his ass immediately after, causing him to choke out a sharp moan. “ Sir.” Hoseok rewards him with the third finger instead of words, working him open slowly but thoroughly, while Jimin feels like his head is filled with cotton, lightheaded and airy. When Hoseok presses his fingers up against that tiny bundle of nerves Jimin keens, and while most of it is hidden in his sleeve, the majority of it can’t be ignored and he swears he can feel Hoseok smiling against his back, pleased with himself. Jimin grinds back against his fingers, gasping and shuddering every time Hoseok flirts just enough with his prostate to set him on edge but not enough to send him over it, purposefully holding back.

The metal of the desk is cool against Jimin’s cheek when Hoseok slides his fingers out, and the cold air just enhances the feeling of being empty, but Jimin won’t whimper for it. He won’t beg, not tonight. (That was reserved for the safety of Hoseok’s room, of his big bed the size of six people and enough pillows for Jimin to smother himself with once they were done with everything they liked to do. Not here, even with all the privacy Hoseok boasted of.) He can hear the sound of Hoseok breaking open the condom package and smoothing it over his dick- and he holds his breath, waiting for Hoseok to press inside, waiting for him.

“How much do you want it, Jimin?” Hoseok exhaled, and Jimin startles, forgetting how close was to him. “How much? How hard do you want me to fuck you?”

Jimin gapes for a moment for an answer, fighting between the fog of arousal already clouding his thoughts and the ever-distracting emptiness that was Hoseok being inside of him already. “Hard,” he finally manages, and it sounds more like a whimper than he wanted, but it’s too late now. “Hard, shit, please- sir, I want you to fuck me into the desk- please-”

It’s still nowhere near the kind of begging Jimin would make when they were at Hoseok’s place, but Hoseok accepts it regardless, pressing in suddenly and cutting off Jimin’s words. Whatever noise Jimin had been making on the tail of his sentence turns into a moan, low and heavy, while they both adjust to it- Hoseok pulsing inside of him, pressed in to the hilt, not moving.

“Move,” Jimin finally gasps out, and Hoseok snaps his hips forward on command- driving Jimin’s into the desk, but that doesn’t matter, because it feels so good. Hoseok doesn’t have any mercy with his thrusts, straightening his back and fucking into Jimin hard, while Jimin scrambles to hold onto the desk to stop from sliding against it and tries desperately to plant his feet to the ground. “H- sir, sir, yes, fuck-” is what comes tumbling out as Hoseok fucks him, alternating between slow shallow thrusts and pounding him into the desk, and Jimin can barely keep track of it, other than the heat of Hoseok in and around him and how good it felt. He doesn’t know when it happens, but it’s not long before Hoseok gets a hand in Jimin’s hair and presses his cheek into the desk, and that breaks him- he doesn’t fight the noises, anymore, pupils blown as he grinds back against Hoseok as best as he can, fingers digging into the smooth metal.

Hoseok fucks deep enough to hit Jimin’s prostate and Jimin almost comes apart right there, writhing in Hoseok’s grip and trying to fuck back against the feeling, panting hard enough for the metal finish of the desk to fog up. “Do you- sh-shit- do you like this, Jimin? Do you?”

“Y-yes-” and Jimin’s words dissolve into a moan, gaze fogging over briefly as Hoseok fucks into that spot just right, mouth hanging open. “Yes, it feels so- good-”

“Yes what?” Hoseok gently reprimands, words soft but firm, pressed into the shell of his ear; he slows his thrusts just slightly, grinding in and out of Jimin with little movements, waiting. “Yes what, Jimin?”

“ Yes, sir,” and Jimin feels terrible for forgetting again, but Hoseok fucks back into him all the same, hard and fast. It only takes a few more well-timed thrusts against his prostate before Jimin is babbling out, “I’m going t- shit, I’m-” and coming hard against the desk, mouth agape and little moans still tumbling out when Hoseok didn’t stop his thrusts. Hoseok doesn’t take long to follow after- pulling Jimin up by the chest and hugging him close while he fucked into him with a one or two more shallow thrusts before coming inside the condom, pressing a moan into Jimin’s shoulder.

They stay like that for a few minutes, still trembling from the aftershocks against each other, before Hoseok finally pulls away to retire back into the chair, pulling Jimin with him. Jimin’s legs feel like jelly as he slumps against him, panting hard and welcoming the affectionate nuzzle Hoseok gives him. “Good?” Hoseok asks, again, but it has none of the harshness from before, all sugary sweet and adoring.

“Yeah, god,” Jimin mumbles, turning his head to give Hoseok a sloppy kiss, lips pressing more to his chin than his mouth. “It’s- always good, you know that.”

Hoseok laughs, gentle, and Jimin is reminded of just how much he adores him, lack of definition for their relationship aside. This Hoseok is his favorite one; the one who treats Jimin like a gift to be treasured, tucking the younger into his side and peppering him with kisses, especially post-sex.

“You still coming over tonight?” Hoseok hums, stroking a gentle hand up Jimin’s stomach and under his shirt, and Jimin already aches when he thinks about having to walk all the way out to Hoseok’s car (especially looking the way he does, fucked out and breathless), but he can’t say no.

“Of course,” he breathes back, and he lives for the smile Hoseok gives him back, kissing him on the lips this time. “I’ve always said your bed was my favorite thing about your place, and I think you owe me a good rest after that.”

And Hoseok, of course, can’t say no to him either, just accepting him with another kiss.

Two days later, when Jimin and Hoseok reappear from their sudden (and suspiciously coinciding) sick days, Yoongi glares at both of them before either of them can say a word.

“You,” and Yoongi points a rolled up stack of papers at Jimin like a weapon, “didn’t finish your work. Go, Jeongguk has suffered enough for your slack, brat. Get to work.” Jimin immediately disappears into the cubicles and offices to their right before Yoongi can scrutinize them further, and Hoseok swallows hard at Yoongi’s hard stare.

“Don’t give me that,” Hoseok sighs, rubbing at his hair- it’s amazing, how he’s best friends with one of his secretaries, but it’s not like he isn’t fucking his other one. “He needed to rest.”

“I wonder why,” Yoongi says pointedly, and he thrusts the paper sword at Hoseok one last time like a warning, before grumbling as he peeled away to find his cubicle again. “Stop incapacitating my secretaries, Hoseok, or I will incapacitate you.”

Hoseok decides not to remind Yoongi that he has the same job as Jimin, and that Hoseok is still his boss, instead watching Yoongi go before finding his way to the elevator.

(He doubts his words will mean anything- the fact that Yoongi hadn’t yelled at them was a blessing in itself, and he’d take this over that any day. Thank god.)