The fireplace glows softly, mostly burnt out embers, but the braziers in the corners of the room burn, bright and intense, sending blazing heat across Taehyung's skin. His thighs are burning, his lower back aches, and his voice is cracked to such a point he's sure his throat will begin to bleed at any moment. He's perched on Jungkook's lap, the dark-haired man propped up on a dozen goose feather pillows against the ornate mahogany headboard. Until about ten seconds ago, Taehyung had been riding Jungkook's cock for all he was worth; now he's gazing down at the grinning nobleman with hooded eyes, speechless.

"Tae, love, say something," Jungkook says, his nails digging into Taehyung's spine, "or keep moving."

Taehyung groans, the raspy sound of Jungkook's voice incredibly attractive, despite his previous suggestion. "You… all six of you?" he asks, rolling his hips, watching as Jungkook's eyes flutter closed, his breath hitching ever so slightly.

"Yes. Me, Yoongi, with Hoseok, of course. Namjoon and Seokjin, Jimin, too. All of us. What do you say?"

Taehyung tries, though admittedly, it's incredibly difficult, to think over his patron's offer. But Jungkook's length is pressing and dragging inside of him in just the right way, and his mind is becoming overtaken with pleasure with each roll of his hips. Jungkook is close, Taehyung knows, after so many of these visits; he knows the signs, knows the way Jungkook's eyes squeeze shut, the way his hands grow harsher along his skin. Jungkook is close, and so is Taehyung, so, so fucking close. His entire body is humming, every inch of skin bursting with arousal.

"C'mon, pretty boy," Jungkook growls, wrapping a tight, slick grip over Taehyung's thick, throbbing cock. "Cum for me, Tae."

The next morning, Taehyung takes his time counting the money left on his pillow by Jungkook. It's an incredible amount, way over the fee set by their contract, but Jungkook has always been a little bit in love with him. The extra money is more of a lover's token than a testament to his skill in the bedroom.

Taehyung had long since become used to the money, though. Being one of the most sought after courtesans of the day has it's perks; money, power, the freedom to pick and choose his lovers from a shallow pool of the most noble, most rich. Taehyung had spent his early years, working under the shadow of a master, saving every cent that didn't go towards his keep. He took the contracts his master wanted, attended the parties, flaunted his looks and his skills. His name became whispered in bedrooms and dining halls alike. His master was not stupid, nor unkind. He hired tutors for Taehyung, teachers in language, history. Taehyung learned archery, mathematics, military strategy. He learned, he made money, and he flourished.

Five short years after he began, Taehyung had saved enough to sever his contract with his master, and buy his own house. It took him another year to build his own business, hire his own household, an accountant. Jungkook, the first contract he ever took, still his most frequent visitor, can claim that the majority of the money Taehyung used was his.

Now, Taehyung lives in a beautiful, albeit modest, house a short ways from the castle, and takes the contracts he finds interesting, once or twice a month. He spends most of his days in leisure, at the palace, playing, drinking, socializing. It's a good life.

Two days after Jungkook's visit, Taehyung seats himself at his desk in his library, and scribbles out a quick letter accepting the nobleman's offer. He sends it off to the castle with his cook's daughter, then goes about his day. By the time Taehyung has eaten dinner and taken his bath, he's signed the contract, and a day, a few days short of two weeks away, is chosen. Taehyung can already feel the thrill of six pairs of hands on his skin.

When the day finally arrives, Taehyung has his help fill his enormous marble tub with steaming water and scented oils. He lounges around, soaking up the obscure floral scent of the water and drowsing, probably for way too long, before he finally rouses himself enough that he can actually bathe. When he's thoroughly clean, he pats himself dry with a plush cotton towel, and slips into a silk robe. His footservant has already set up the lounge to his specifications, and sent the others to bed for the night, set to follow as soon as the guests arrive.

Taehyung's bedroom, while extravagantly simple, is just too small for he and his expected six guests. So he'd had the lounge prepared for the night, with pillows and thick woolen blankets scattered elegantly over the rugs. Here, they'd have a beautiful view of the walled courtyard through the glass doors, and soon, the moon would rise somewhere over the east wall. The sconces are lit, casting a soft orange glow throughout. In the center of the room, he'd had his footservant place a thick, down-feather duvet, that will act as the bed for the night. There are spare towels, and pitchers of chilled water on the low table beside the lone sofa, among other refreshments. Taehyung, for all his expensive charms, is nothing if not a spectacular host.

He waits for his guests to arrive, supposedly all together, from the castle, and takes this time to inspect his appearance in the mirror in his bedroom. His honey-toned skin is still a little flushed from his bath, a dusky rose-tint peaking through the depth. His hair, dark and thick, is half-dry, and he combs through it with his fingers, trying to smooth the fluffy mess. He could have used a balm, but at least half of those coming tonight prefer him without any, if not all. Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook, in particular, have a habit of stroking and tugging his hair (not that he's complaining). He's forgone cosmetics too, because Jin and Jimin don't like when anyone looks more attractive than them, and Hoseok likes to edge him until tears are flowing, so it's always such a mess if his eyes are rimmed with kohl.

Even so, Taehyung feels a small tinge of pride at his appearance; the deep-gold of the silk makes his skin glow, pulls bright tones from his eyes that would otherwise only be visible in the sunlight. His shoulders fill out the mellifluous material pleasingly, the subtle curves and dips of his chest and back obvious and enticing. The robe would be discarded soon enough, of course, but for now, Taehyung will wear it well. He knows how good he looks.

His footservant interrupts his inner musings with a soft knock on his open door. "They're here," the man says. Taehyung nods and sends him off with a 'thank you' and a 'goodnight'. He blows out the candle on the bedside table, then goes to greet his guests.

They've all made themselves comfortable. Namjoon is lounging on the sofa, his long legs stretched out, a glass of water in his hand. He looks freshly bathed as well, a common sight to see from the man who is second in line for the throne. He always looks slightly predatory, his lightened hair slicked back, giving him a sharpness. But Taehyung knows well how soft he is, how much he loves to muse over life and the world in the early hours of the morning, when he's sated and his smile is quick and gentle.

Jin is beside him, the King's chef; Namjoon's not-so-secret affair (it had been news for a week, before the kingdom moved on to other gossip). Jin is always kind, on the outside, but he has a rough streak that has put Taehyung out of commission, literally, on more than one occasion for weeks at a time. Taehyung has never asked, but he wonders if Namjoon suffers the same fate from time to time, if all the times that the Prince had gone to foreign lands on dignitary business had been a lie. The elder's mouth holds a warm smile, his angelic face glowing in the dim light, his hand in Jimin's hair. The dancer is stretched out on the floor, his head on Jin's knee, a few apple slices in his hand.

Jimin used to be like Taehyung, but he'd since been recruited by the Court theatre, and now he makes his living doing a different sort of entertainment. He's the same age as Taehyung, though he seems both younger and older; he can go from a beautiful, giggling mess, to a sinful, sensual force in less time than it takes to strike a match. It's always an amusing affair, for Taehyung, to be contracted by someone with the skill to match his own; he's never sure which of them comes out of their trysts more well-served. He and Jimin have a good friendship, too. Taehyung always invites Jimin when he goes out to the countryside, and Jimin is always sending invitations to performances being held at the castle. Maybe it's because they understand one another, the struggles they've both lived, or maybe it's something else. Either way, the two of them are compatible in a way that Taehyung is grateful for.

Yoongi, one of the most powerful, richest merchants in town, looks like he's asleep, curled up against Hoseok on some of the pillows. He's dangerously beautiful, even while reserved and seemingly disinterested. But he sees all, and he's used his skills of perception to take over the world of trading. A close friend of Namjoon's, Yoongi had met Taehyung at a winter festival, and had sent an offer around the following morning. Though the merchant is known for being a frugal and sharp business man, he's incredibly gentle, very big on praise from Taehyung, and sometimes he comes alone, sometimes with Hoseok. He has a tendency to lay back and let Taehyung have his way; he's an easy patron, and always leaves a generous gift, along with a kiss goodbye. Yoongi, in Taehyung's opinion, is the best kisser out of the group. Between the six of them, Taehyung is sure they're the only ones in the entire nation to know of Yoongi's secret love of music and the arts.

Hoseok, also of the Court theatre, is Yoongi's legal, official consort, and Taehyung loves him to bits. He's also visited on his own from time to time; he says that Taehyung is a good friend, easy to talk to. Sometimes Hoseok leaves in the morning without having so much as touched Taehyung, saying he'd only needed someone to talk to. Some days, he likes to tie Taehyung to his ornate headboard and touch him, with both gentle and harsh hands, until Taehyung is nearly hoarse from all the begging he's done. Taehyung knows he does the same to Yoongi, both of them have said so, and the thought alone makes Taehyung's skin tingle for the feel of soft silk around his wrists. For all of Hoseok's darkness, he's always the brightest, a smile never far from sight. He's loud, and fun, and one hell of a drunken dancer.

And then there's Jungkook, of course. Taehyung's first, and probably his last, lover. Jungkook is already sprawled out on the makeshift mattress, his legs crossed at the ankles, his hands fiddling with the hem of his dark sleeve. His bright, wide eyes watch Taehyung with depthless love and hunger alike. Noble by birth, Jungkook has always been arrogant in a way that only those born into nobility can be; but, he has a surprisingly kind side, full of strange acts of affection and scarcely concealed naivete. His father and his older brother are both heads of the military, and Jungkook is destined to follow in their footsteps, though all he really wants to do is travel. He's a good son, regardless, and will probably marry a princess of some sort; he's already promised himself to Taehyung, though, and militant fathers be damned, Taehyung is going to hold him to his promise.

His six favorite patrons are all gathered in one room, and Taehyung is almost lightheaded with anticipation. Hoseok nudges Yoongi, while Jin reaches out to squeeze Namjoon's knee, and then all eyes are on him. It's almost too much, the fire that begins to burn deep in his belly, turning his bones to mush. But Taehyung is a professional, and although he's never been one to hide his pleasure, he knows there is a time and a place. So Taehyung smiles and bows, welcoming his guests.

"I'm here to serve," he says, the official statement of initiation. Jungkook, the impromptu head of the occasion, is the first to act. He sits up, rising on his knees, and motions Taehyung over.

Taehyung moves to stand in front of the young noble, allowing him to undo the tie keeping his robe secure. As the material loosens, Jungkook tugs him down to his knees, and as soon as Taehyung is kneeling in front of him, face to face, Jungkook slides his hands under the fabric, over Taehyung's shoulders, effectively leaving him bare and open for viewing pleasure.

Then there's a second pair of hands, smaller, softer, on him from behind. Jimin helps tug the fabric of gold from his frame, discarding it somewhere to the left, then the dancer's hands are exploring his skin, intersecting Jungkook's in their journey. The contrast in his lovers' hands is incredible; Jimin's touches are faint, feather soft, while Jungkook's are hungrier, more insistent. Jimin's lips trail across his shoulders, his teeth light, but sharp, on the bony part of his shoulders, as Jungkook's mouth collides with his. The nobleman's tongue traces his own, while Jimin's tongue traces constellations on his skin, and it's so hot, so wet. Taehyung moans, pulling a collective sigh from his group of guests. His gut pools with heat, when he remembers everyone there, everyone there to see him, to touch him.

He tilts his head to the side, Jungkook's mouth following the line of his jaw, down his throat to the dip of his collarbones. Jimin's hands are kneading his ass, his plush lips snagging over the curve of Taehyung's ear. Taehyung can feel Jimin's smooth chest against his back, and he doesn't remember Jimin discarding his clothes; still, Jimin has a habit of both undressing and dressing with a skill that Taehyung is almost envious of, and he doesn't have time to be concerned.

He's aching for someone to tug on his cock, tug it to throbbing, hard life, but he has a feeling they won't. So he settles for blinking open his eyes against the chilled heat pulsing over his skin, searching the dim, quiet room for the others. He spots Yoongi, perched on Hoseok's lap, his shirt askew and falling from pale, sharp shoulders as his lips and tongue work over the other's ear. Namjoon is still stretched out, his cock in his hand, and Jin is beside him, biting his lip as he smooths his hand down Namjoon's clothed chest. Taehyung has no idea how he ended up with six of the most beautiful, sensual patrons, but he's not about to question the heavens.

Jungkook pulls away from him just enough to tug himself free of his own shirt, then he's easing backwards, taking Taehyung with him. With Jimin's help, Taehyung manages to gracefully settle over Jungkook's thighs, his knees on either side of the latter's clothed hips. He immediately brings his lips to the warm skin of Jungkook's chest, tasting salt and soap, tasting the rumble of a groan under his lips. Jungkook rolls his hips up, and Taehyung's hand reaches for him instinctively, his palm sliding over the soft cotton concealing the younger's bulge. Jungkook's head falls back, sinking into the duvet, and Taehyung smiles against his sternum, his hand massaging and squeezing.

Jimin is still behind him, still palming his ass and kneading the muscles with light, dainty hands. He presses kisses over the swell of Taehyung's ass, humming and murmuring words that Taehyung can't hear. He feels them, though, he feels the praises that drip from Jimin's lips like smooth, golden honey, sweet and heady. Jimin has always been good with his mouth.

Taehyung can hear the rustling of clothes, as he wraps his lips around one of Jungkook's nipples, but the younger man has a grip on his hair that prevents him from looking around to see which one of his lovers have shed their clothes. Then he hears Jimin giggle, and the dancer drapes himself half over Taehyung's lower back, his skillful hands spreading him open. His hole flutters, warm breath ghosting over it, then there's a slick heat pressing against him; Yoongi.

Yoongi's tongue is hands down one of the most amazing things in the world, to Taehyung. He's painstakingly deliberate with it, to the point that it's almost a lazy, dance-like action. Whether Yoongi's tongue is tangling with his own, sliding down the underside of his cock, or probing and fucking open his entrance, Taehyung is always a little bit in love with Yoongi because of it. This occasion is no exception; Taehyung whimpers against Jungkook's neck, his back arching, giving Yoongi better access. The merchant presses his tongue flat over Taehyung's hole, massaging with hard, broad strokes, while Jimin's nails dig into either side of his ass, holding him spread. Yoongi groans against him, his breath hot and halting, and Taehyung can all but imagine the way Yoongi is probably stroking himself with one pale, beautiful hand. Jungkook chuckles as Taehyung's voice breaks into small, breathy sounds against his neck.

Taehyung feels his head actually spin as Yoongi's tongue breaches the muscles, pushing in and stroking along his walls. His tongue is hot, so damn hot, and smooth, pressing in further and further. Yoongi has never had a great need to breathe. Yoongi reaches between Taehyung's thighs to lightly drag the pads of his fingers along the underside of Taehyung's cock, just a teasing reminder that his pleasure comes after the others', that this is preparation. That soon, Taehyung is going to be filled to bursting, over and over, until he's half-dead with pleasure; Taehyung loves it, and cries out in anticipation, his voice deep and already cracking. Jungkook laughs softly, dragging his hands through Taehyung's hair, lifting his face so he can suck Taehyung's bottom lip into his mouth, not at all minding that Taehyung's hand has gone limp against his hip.

Every press and twist of Yoongi's tongue has Taehyung growing increasingly desperate, but, thankfully, soon enough Yoongi is pulling away. Taehyung hears the clink of a glass vial being opened, and a few moments later, liquid warmth is dripping over his entrance. Yoongi's fingers replace his tongue, and the merchant pushes two fingers inside easily, immediately searching for Taehyung's prostate. Taehyung gasps against Jungkook's mouth, when he finds it, a sizzle of pleasure shooting through his veins. He's already so hard, so aroused. Taehyung could almost kick Yoongi, if he wasn't enjoying himself so thoroughly. That, and he can feel Yoongi's restlessness in the way he stretches him, carefully, but with unconcealed impatience. The elder may stroke over his prostate with every push of his fingers, leaving Taehyung biting his lip and knocking his forehead against Jungkook's, but Yoongi is effective, pushing in three fingers not long after. Taehyung had long since become accustomed to the burn, so much so that it doesn't even register, and soon enough, Yoongi is meeting little to no resistance as he fingers Taehyung.

On the other hand, for entirely different reasons, Taehyung is a mess. He'd made the tempting mistake of lifting his eyes to look towards the couch, where Namjoon and Jin are still seated. Except Namjoon is now on his knees, his ass in the air, his clothes discarded, and he's mouthing at Jin's thick length like it's all he was born to do. Something about seeing the Prince on his knees and so eager for cock makes Taehyung want to shoot his load here and now. When Jin catches his eye, he smiles, his eyes low and dark; Taehyung feels a shiver of fear roll down his spine, and he's tempted to join Namjoon.

But Yoongi is pulling his fingers free and patting his ass. "He's ready," he says, his voice as deep as the sky on a new moon. Taehyung sighs, his head falling to rest on Jungkook's flushed chest. Jungkook, even though he's barely been touched, doesn't seem to be doing too much better than Taehyung. It's almost endearing, that the young noble shares Taehyung's pleasure so instinctively.

"I want his pretty pout," Hoseok says lightly, appearing from somewhere behind Yoongi. When no one objects, he moves around to stand next to Jungkook's head, dropping his pants and kicking them from his feet. One single, fluid motion later, he's stripped bare, kneeling with his knees on either side of Jungkook's head, his cock hard and heavy, inches from Taehyung's face. "You okay down there?" he jokes, glancing down to smile teasingly at Jungkook. The young noble rolls his eyes, lifting his head up to nip at the meaty part of the dancer's thigh.

"I'm fine," Jungkook chuckles, when Hoseok gasps at the feel of teeth. "Just watch where your mess ends up."

Hoseok laughs, his voice dropping several octaves, suddenly full of dangerous promise. "Oh, our Tae is going to swallow every bit of it, isn't he?" Taehyung knows it's a rhetorical question, but he nods anyway, his eyes closing against the swell of pleasure humming under his skin. He's so fucking hard.

"Remember your safe word, love?" Jungkook asks from underneath him. Taehyung nods again, the word on his tongue.

Hoseok lifts his face by the chin, prompting him to meet his eyes. Taehyung does, and Hoseok's eyes are soft, blurred. Beautiful. "Say it for us, Tae. Tell us your safeword."

"Butterfly," Taehyung murmurs, unable to will his voice any louder. Hoseok is satisfied though, and he strokes Taehyung's hair absentmindedly as he glances around the others.

"I think our beloved Prince should go first," Hoseok muses, giggling over the sounds that Taehyung can only assume is Namjoon choking on Jin's cock. "Unless he's otherwise occupied."

Jin laughs, his voice somewhere between brightness and darkness. "Oh, he's free. Go remind him what royal cock feels like, baby," he purrs. Soon, Taehyung feels smooth, long fingers on his hips, the dull head of Namjoon's dick pressing against him.

"Ready?" Hoseok asks, smoothing Taehyung's hair from his forehead. He nods, barely able to breathe through the anticipation. Every nerve in his body feels strung tight, ready to snap, and oh, fuck, Namjoon is pushing in.

Namjoon goes slow, at first, always. Unless otherwise stated in the contract, no matter how submissive Taehyung is being paid to be, he's in full control of every single action done by any of the other six. Fortunately for him, even though they all have their preferences and kinks, they're all gentle, they all care about him. So, Namjoon fits his thickness inside of Taehyung with slow, easy care, filling up the younger till he's sheathed to the hilt, twitching inside of Taehyung's heat. Taehyung bites his lip against the intrusion, against the adjustment, but he leaks, glistening strings of precum dripping down from the head of his cock. He lets his forehead rest against Hoseok's hip, the dancer's fingers in his hair. Jungkook, below him, hums and runs his fingers down Taehyung's chest, down his ribs. There's a hand, he thinks it's Jimin's, squeezing the base of his cock, keeping it hard and throbbing.

Finally, Taehyung feels himself relax, faster than he expected. He's so tense, his senses sharpened by arousal, he's surprised that Namjoon is able to pull out, sliding back in with a grunt. His walls flutter, and he sighs, full and eager to cum. He has no idea if anyone is going to let him, though, and he's not sure which he prefers, if he's honest.

Hoseok grips his hair, lifting his drooping eyes to look up at his own. "If you need to use your word, pinch me, okay?" Taehyung nods, letting his mouth drop open, swiping his tongue over his dry lips. Hosoek's cock is visibly throbbing, the head swollen and red, and Taehyung is more than happy to wrap his lips around it, sucking shallowly. He works his tongue over the head, down the slit and what he can reach of the length, coating it so he can easily take more. Namjoon chooses this moment to pull his own length out fully, before thrusting smoothy back in, the thick girth of his cock grinding against Taehyung's prostate. The latter gasps, despite his expectation, and Hoseok takes his chance to shove his own cock down Taehyung's throat.

He'd long since squashed any gag-reflex he might have had, but it still surprises him; Taehyung chokes a little, his throat constricting around Hoseok's cock until the dancer is moaning unintelligibly. Taehyung is so fucking full, unbelievably so, and he lets his mind go blank. He can't think past anything other than the head of Hoseok's cock bumping the back of his throat, can't think past the sound of skin-on-skin, of Namjoon's hips slamming against his ass. His corners of his mouth sting, his thighs burn, and Taehyung savors every damn moment of it.

He's vaguely aware of Jungkook gasping out orders below him, then Jimin's grip loosens on his cock. Jimin's hand stays on him, however, and the dancer begins to jerk him, quick and with purpose. Thick fingers spread the precum overflowing from his cock, spreading it over the head and down the length, and Taehyung breathes harshly through his nose, groaning around Hoseok's length. The elder dancer curses above him, gripping his hair, and Taehyung takes a deep, shuddering breath as Hoseok pulls out; he's prepared, this time, when Hoseok begins to fuck his mouth without hesitation. Taehyung keeps his jaw slack, letting the deep whines that echo from his chest clench around the throbbing heat of the dick in his mouth.

"Make him cum," Hoseok orders harshly, his voice thick with his own pleasure. The sound alone has Taehyung's hips jerking, torn between rolling down into Jimin's fist, and bucking back to fuck himself on Namjoon's cock. Namjoon is the only one who is silent, the only sounds from him being his sharp, uneven breathing.

Jimin takes his orders happily, his strokes speeding up on Taehyung's cock; he feels the fire that's been burning in his belly start to spread, out and down, pooling in his groin. His back arches without him thinking, his body instinctively seeking the angle that will have Namjoon piercing his prostate with every thrust… he finds it, his body tensing against the pleasure literally assaulting him from all sides. Jimin tightens the circle of his grip so that it's squeezing just under the head of his cock, Namjoon gives him harder, faster thrusts, and Hoseok fucks his throat without mercy.

Taehyung's orgasm seemingly builds and crashes all at once, the force of it almost paralyzing. He well and truly chokes on Hoseok's length, moaning and drooling, as his pulsing walls clench down on Namjoon. Jimin lightens his hold, stroking Taehyung through his orgasm, milking every last sticky drop from him. Taehyung is too dazed to worry about the mess he's just made all over Jungkook's abdomen, because Namjoon is still fucking him, Hoseok is still balls deep in his throat. Every sense is painfully sharp, clear, and Taehyung's body hums, oversensitivity coursing through his veins. He can't see anything, hear anything, think anything; the only sensation he's aware of is an acute, white-hot pleasure soaking up his brain.

Hoseok is the next to cum, warning Taehyung a little bit before. He gives Taehyung ample time to pull away, or prepare himself, his choice. Taehyung, even though his slick lips are half-numb, tightens them around Hoseok's cock, sucking and tongueing at the slit. He focuses on the growled curses falling from the other's lips, ignoring the sticky pain of his abused prostate, and before long, Hoseok's hips are jerking to a halt. He spills at the back of Taehyung's throat, his hips twitching, his hands going slack in Taehyung's hair. Taehyung groans at the taste, swallowing each spurt as it comes, sucking Hoseok dry, until the later is tugging free from his mouth with a pop. Hoseok shuffles backwards, falling back to rest against a few pillows. A moment before Taehyung blinks tears from his eyes and lets his head fall against Jungkook's neck, he sees Yoongi crawl over on his knees to kiss Hoseok with a hooded smirk.

Taehyung's voice is ringing so high it's almost silent. Namjoon is still thrusting, still even, and Taehyung finds himself begging, pleading for the Prince to fill him up, to cum. His body betrays him, the rough coil of another orgasm beginning to spin and tighten in his gut. His arms give out, but Jungkook catches him, and the young noble cradles him to his chest. Jungkook's breath comes hard and heavy under his cheek, and Taehyung focuses on the unsteady rise and fall, his entire body quaking. The only indication that Namjoon is close is the way his grip tightens on Taehyung's hips, his royally manicured nails probably breaking the skin.

Although he's been silent up until now, when Namjoon finds his own release, his voice rips through the room as a feral growl. He buries himself deep, still rocking his hips, his cock pumping Taehyung full with heat. Taehyung sobs, his own ebbing orgasm fading away, and he's almost glad; it was too soon, too much. His body melts, his bones completely gone. His back aches, his mouth feels raw and sore. He sighs, wincing as Namjoon pulls free, then slides down until he's fully resting on Jungkook's body.

He fades, during the time it takes Namjoon to crawl till he's laying next to them, during the time it takes Jimin to appear with a damp towel. He helps Jungkook gently roll Taehyung to lay between them, then he uses the cloth to clean Taehyung's mess from both Taehyung and Jungkook; he doesn't go near Taehyung's fluttering hole, though. Taehyung wonders, through the haze, if this means that Jin will be the next inside of him.

They all let him catch his breath, let the throbbing in his blood fade. Jimin helps Jungkook out of his pants, teasing the younger man with a few quick tugs on his cock, until Jungkook is laughing and rolling a squealing Jimin over onto his back, pinning him down. Taehyung smiles, his eyes drooping closed; he feels a hand under his neck, so he lifts his head, sitting up on weak elbows, accepting the cool glass of water that's pressed to his lips. He takes a few quick gulps, opening his own eyes to meet Yoongi's, dark and blown. Yoongi looks like he's just run a marathon; his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, his parted and swollen. There's a faint sheen of sweat on his skin, down his flushed chest, and his hair is sticking up across his forehead. Taehyung can't help himself, and as soon as the glass is empty, he's reaching out, pulling Yoongi's mouth to his own.

Yoongi tastes sweet, he always does, and Taehyung whimpers at the taste of the elder's tongue against his own. It's a lazy kiss, full of wet, gentle lips, but it has the fire in Taehyung's chest roaring back to life, like it'd never left. Taehyung kisses Yoongi, savoring the small, breathy moans that he offers, until Jin is clearing his throat. Taehyung breaks away, keeping his eyes down, obediently making his way over to where Jin is still seated on the sofa. He rests back on his heels, his hands fisted on his thighs, and keeps his eyes on Jin's toes, until he's ordered otherwise. Jin makes him wait, makes him stay like this, until his skin is pricking with nervous anticipation, until his cock is twitching back to life at the thought of Jin's harsh love. He can hear the others talking softly behind him, can hear Namjoon above the others, closer.

"Up," Jin commands, and Taehyung rises, ready, understanding. Or rather, he thought he understood; instead of letting Taehyung grip his broad shoulders and straddle his hips, Jin spins him, pulling Taehyung backwards. He sees Yoongi and Namjoon kneeling a short distance away, and… oh. Taehyung climbs onto Jin's lap, his back facing the elder, the expensive couch wide enough for him to settle comfortably on his knees. Jin guides him, with two large hands on his hips, the elder's cock slipping into his sore hole, pushing all other thoughts from his head. Taehyung releases a shuddering breath, his length throbbing at the feeling of being full again, and he rolls his hips, once, getting adjusted to the position. Jin curses behind him, one hand sliding up Taehyung's back, coming to rest in his damp hair. Jin tangles his fingers in Taehyung's locks and tugs, keeping his other hand on Taehyung's hip, urging the younger to move, and movenow.

Taehyung, always happy to comply, trusts the elder to hold him up, and proceeds to roll his hips, grinding hard on Jin's cock. Color bursts behind his closed eyes, and he squeezes his thighs, aching to fist himself, knowing that it's something Jin doesn't like. His orgasm is already simmering, tightening his balls, leaving his cock straining, straight and dark. He clutches at his own burning thighs, keeping his hands away from where he wants them, and almost curses aloud when he feels a hand wrap gently around him.

Taehyung groans, abandoning any sense of professionalism for the moment, when he cracks his eyes to find Yoongi, the elder on his knees as he eyes Taehyung's cock; with a grunt from Jin, Yoongi rises up, his tongue darting out to trace the slit, his hand keeping Taehyung's cock steady as the younger rolls his hips. Taehyung assumes that Jin is putting his harsher nature aside for the night, because a moment later, Yoongi drops down completely on Taehyung's cock, taking his length in until his nose is nestled in the dark hair around the base. A sob bubbles from Taehyung's lips, as he focuses on keeping the arcs of his hips steady. But each grind forward has Jin's length pressing harshly against his prostate, and it doesn't take long before Taehyung has to close his eyes and bite his lip against the pleasure. Yoongi's mouth is tight and hot around him, as the elder sucks lightly, the faintest slurping sounds audible over Jin's whimpers, Taehyung's moans.

Yoongi pulls off, dragging his tongue down the underside, then Taehyung can feel two mouths, two steady puffs of air on his cock, and he almost doesn't even want to open his eyes. He does though, against his better judgment, and pleasure spikes in his blood, sending piercing hot waves through his body; Yoongi has moved off to the side and dropped his hand, leaving Taehyung's cock held between his and Namjoon's mouths. The sight is beautifully filthy, and Taehyung moans, the slick heat of their mouths almost too much. Namjoon's eyes flick up, meeting Taehyung's through his lashes, and Yoongi moves to let Namjoon take Taehyung all the way in his mouth. Taehyung drops eye contact to watch his cock disappear between Namjoon's thick, dark lips, and he knows, without a doubt, that he's going to finish before Jin.

Jin's hand tightens in his hair, tugging his head back, and he's forced to forfeit the sight below him. He can still feel, however; he can feel the elders' tongues swirl over his cock, tangling together over the head, both tips digging into the slit. He feels like he's going to burst into flames at any moment, and his mouth drops open, his ragged, sharp whines filling the air, bouncing off the walls. Jin suddenly lets go of his hair in favor of gripping his hips, urging him to ride the elder harder; he's close.

Taehyung leans up and forward, holding himself up with weak, quivering thighs, ignoring the painful burning in the muscles. His legs could very well go numb at any moment, but he doesn't care. He reaches out with both hands, gripping each of the others by a fistful of hair, keeping their mouths in the vicinity of his cock, then he drops down on Jin's cock, rising again and repeating the motion. He bounces, blocking out the screaming objection from his legs, fucking himself on Jin's cock as the elder's nails dig into what feels like the same exact place where Namjoon's nails had been before. Yoongi is sucking on the head of his cock, harshly, Namjoon's tongue and lips working along the length, and Taehyung can feel his gut tighten, can feel the nearly-painful, sharp sensation of his orgasm on the brink.

Jin beats him to it, though, crying out behind him, cursing obscenely. He keeps Taehyung seated firmly on his cock, and Taehyung grinds, milking the elder's orgasm, chasing his own. When he cums a few moments later, tears spill from his eyes as Yoongi tongues his slit through the initial waves. He pulls of, swallowing, leaving Taehyung whimpering, and Namjoon swoops in, taking Taehyung all the way to the base, sucking the younger through the aftershocks, until he's dry and sobbing in pained, over-sensitive pleasure.

Jin, with shaky arms, helps Taehyung rise and flop onto the couch. Taehyung heaves for air, his entire body still twitching in pleasure, and he can see the edges of his consciousness blurring. He can hear Jungkook, his voice soft and full of sweet praise, before a second glass of cool water is pressed to his lips. He drinks what he can, his throat sore, weakly pushing away Jungkook's arm when he's done. He allows the younger to scoop him up like a rag doll and carry him back to the center of the room. Taehyung is vaguely aware, through the blood beating in his skull, of Jungkook easing him to lay on the duvet, and of Jimin's soft, cool hands cleaning him. This time, he's thorough, his gentle fingers probing inside of him, and Taehyung whimpers, aftershocks of pleasure still stinging his nerves.

Taehyung has a feeling he dozed, a little, but he has no way of knowing for how long. He wakes up to Hoseok's hands in his hair, Jimin's lips on his cheek, and when he opens his heavy eyes, he meets Hoseok's gaze.

"Can you keep going?" he asks, and Taehyung nods, smiling softly. "Okay, good. Remember, use your safeword or pinch me, Tae."

After Taehyung nods for a second time, Hoseok's lips are on his, molding their mouths together in a way that only Hoseok can achieve. Hoseok drags one hand down Taehyung's chest, over his hip and thigh, all while sucking on Taehyung's tongue. Jimin is nibbling on the back of his neck, sucking marks on his shoulder, one hand resting on Taehyung's hip. He's sandwiched between two dancers, and all Taehyung can do is shiver in anticipation.

When Hoseok's trailing hand finds his knee, he lifts it, hooking Taehyung's leg over his own hip. With the hand on Taehyung's hip, Jimin urges the latter to arch; he can feel Jimin's slick, hot length sliding against him, so he complies, arching until the head of Jimin's cock catches on his hole. Taehyung can hear the others, their voices soft, a few low groans floating over amid the sounds of clinking glass, but the moment Jimin's shorter, thick cock is pressing inside him, he can't focus on anything else. His walls flutter, in half-protest, half-anticipation, as Jimin fills him, and he groans into Hoseok's mouth. Before he can even think about anything else, Hoseok's body is pressing him backwards, chest to chest, until he's half on top of Jimin. Jimin has braced himself on one elbow, fully supporting Taehyung's weight, and is thrusting into him with hard, shallow strokes, aiming for Taehyung's prostate.

Taehyung clenches his teeth, because fuck, he's so sore, so sensitive, but it still feels so fucking good. Hoseok's cock, just as slick as Jimin's, is pressing against his own, coaxing it to life. Taehyung bites back his whimpers, worried that they'll come out sounding high and needy, and lets his head fall back to rest against Jimin's bicep. Hoseok's mouth follows him, the elder licking over his bobbing Adam's apple, nipping with teeth and soothing with tongue. Every touch is a spark, unbidden and harsh, and Taehyung is close to tears already.

He chokes, jerking, when Hoseok scoops up both of their cocks in one hand, squeezing both throbbing lengths together, stroking. Hoseok, blessedly, focuses on the base, mindful of the sensitive head, and Taehyung's breath catches in his chest. Jimin starts thrusting in earnest, more than aware of Taehyung's state, his goal his own orgasm. Taehyung is sure all of them are questioning whether he can even cum again, despite the hard throb of his cock against Hoseok's, the tightening of his hole. But Taehyung, ignoring the exhaustion, ignoring the burn and ache of his skin, his bones… Taehyung is a professional, and he's here to serve. So he focuses on the pleasure, meeting Hoseok's mouth with his own, pushing his ass back to meet Jimin's thrusts.

Jimin, having been on edge all night, manages to last long enough for Hoseok to get close, desperately thrusting into his fist, sliding his cock along the underside of Taehyung's. Even Taehyung is desperate, at this point, the ache of over-sensitivity giving way to dull pleasure, the desire to cum again sizzling below the surface. Jimin's hips, the hips of both a skilled dancer and exceptional lover, deliver strong, angled rolls, drilling his cock directly into what's left of Taehyung's prostate. His cock is leaking, spilling sticky clear over Hoseok's fist, urging the elder on. Taehyung can feel Jimin's hips begin to falter, his orgams looming, and he covers Hoseok's fist with his own, pumping their cocks hard and fast.

Taehyung cums first, weakly and mostly empty, gasping into Hoseok's mouth. He feels Jimin's growl through the other's chest, pressed against his back, a second before Jimin bites down harshly where his shoulder curves into his neck. Jimin gives him two more solid, powerful thrusts, before he's cumming, spurting hot and thick inside of Taehyung. Jimin whimpers, his voice pitched and broken, his breath heavy on Taehyung's neck, as he murmurs words of encouragement to Hoseok. The elder curses, biting his lip, his eyes squeezed shut. In a moment of pure spontaneity, that he will probably groan about later, Taehyung pulls away from Jimin at the same time he grabs Hoseok by the wrists. Hoseok struggles, his eyes snapping open, but before he can speak, Taehyung is rolling them over, using the leg already over Hoseok's hip for leverage.

It's pure luck, really, that he manages to sink down so perfectly on Hoseok's cock, with a little help from Hoseok, of course. As soon as he realizes Taehyung's intentions, he wrenches his wrists free and claws at Taehyung's thighs, desperate and growling. Taehyung sobs, pleasure edged with pain singing through every nerve in his wrecked body, but he rolls his hips through the haze anyway. He rides Hoseok, the elder already on the precipice, until he's arching and crying out below him, his voice hitting a pretty note. Hoseok's pleasure joins Jimin's inside of him, and Taehyung's hips halter to a stop, his legs going half numb. He falls forward, trusting a still-convulsing Hoseok to catch him.

This time, it's Jungkook who cleans him, as Jimin is indisposed, laying flat on his back, spread eagle, a cool towel completely draped over his face. Taehyung giggles at him, a little bit, his voice harsh and raspy. Taehyung, on his knees, his cheek resting on his forearms on a pillow, let's Jungkook's gentle hands clean him, the soft, cool cloth of the towel like ice on a burn. Yoongi is sitting a foot away, cross-legged, his chin resting on his fist. His slender cock, even in Taehyung's fucked out state, looks enticing in a way he cannot explain, and he aches to reach out for it.

Hoseok, having left a few moments ago, comes back with a platter of fruit from the kitchen, and goes around the room, feeding the group. He stops by Yoongi first, giving his consort a kiss and a bowl of sliced melon, then moves on to pop a mango spear in Jungkook's open mouth. He brings a bowl of assorted berries to Jin, who's curled up, on half a dozen pillows, against Namjoon's side, a blanket pulled over their legs. Jin puts the bowl on Namjoon's chest and feeds the younger a few blueberries, before leaning up kiss him, slow and sensually. Hoseok reaches Jimin last, gently plopping down to straddle the younger's hips. Jimin groans, trying to roll away, but Hoseok only giggles and pins him down. Hoseok holds a chunk of pineapple between his lips, leaning down over Jimin, until the latter can bite the fruit in half, chewing his own slice, unable to hide the bright smile that crashes over his features. The entire sight, everyone, has warmth coalescing through Taehyung's heart.

Yoongi picks up a chunk of melon with his fingers, biting into the pale orange fruit, before he extends his hand towards Taehyung, offering the rest to the latter. Taehyung lifts his head, letting Yoongi push the food past his lips. He takes it, then sucks the juice from Yoongi's long fingers, swirling his tongue between the digits. Yoongi's eyes darken perceptively, as a bead of shiny precum rolls down his cock, and Taehyung burns beneath his gaze.

Jungkook chuckles behind him, working more of the clear, slick liquid over Taehyung's hole. He pushes two fingers in, slicking up his walls, and Taehyung whines, still wanting more. Yoongi feeds him more of the fruit, and as he licks his lips clean, he meets the elder's eyes, his voice coming out strained and deep. "Fuck me," he says, "both of you. Please."

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly, his lips parting, the only indication that he'd understood. Jungkook's hand stills as he curses, also understanding.

"Are you sure?" Yoongi asks, his voice low and soft, thick with arousal and disbelief. Taehyung nods.

"Please," he repeats. Yoongi's eyes lift from his, to look behind him, at Jungkook. Taehyung isn't sure what passes between the two of them, but then Yoongi is nodding, and Jungkook is adding more lube to his slicked hole.

By the time Jungkook deems Taehyung as prepared as he's going to be, Taehyung is buzzing with need, the last chunk of melon still on his tongue. As soon as Jungkook is done, he immediately moves towards Yoongi, and the elder unfolds, letting Taehyung crawl over him. Taehyung's mouth finds the leaking head of Yoongi's cock, the bitter taste of precum bursting through the sweet taste of melon still on the back of his throat, and he groans in unison with the elder as he sinks down until his lips are secure around the base. Then he swallows, the muscles of his throat dragging against the head, and Yoongi curses in a deep, rough voice, his hands sinking into Taehyung's wild hair.

He takes as much time as he has the patience for and worships Yoongi's cock like he knows the elder loves. Jungkook appears at Yoongi's side, threading the fingers of one hand into the elder's hair, tugging his head back. Taehyung watches through his lashes as Jungkook licks into Yoongi's mouth, their tongues tangling between them, and he feels his own cock throb in response. He's hard again, and he'd bet his assets that he has another orgasm in him, and he's determined to cum one last time, clenched around two slender, pretty cocks.

He pulls off Yoongi's cock with a small pop, then climbs up the elder's body. Yoongi breaks his kiss with Jungkook so Taehyung can kiss him, deep and needy, and Jungkook disappears behind them. Yoongi jerks beneath him, hissing through his teeth, and Taehyung nips at his chin, assuming that Jungkook is busy coating the elder's cock with smooth, clear liquid. Soon after, both men have their hands on Taehyung's hips, guiding him down, Yoongi's cock breaching his walls and sliding in smoothly. Taehyung is sore, immensely sore, and he bites his lip against the burn, but it's still so, so good. He sits up a little, rolling his hips gently, and Yoongi groans, throwing his head back.

Then he's tugging Taehyung down, crashing their mouths together in a kiss that's partially painful, partially artful. The elder braces his feet, holding Taehyung steady with two large hands on his spine, and he thrusts up, sharpy, his cock spearing into Taehyung's prostate so hard that Taehyung's breath leaves him in a choked huff. Just as Taehyung begins to whimper, Yoongi stills, letting his legs fall and spread, letting Jungkook fit between them. Jungkook dribbles even more of the lube over Taehyung's filled hole, making extra sure he's as wet as possible, then he lines up his own cock, the dull, slick head sliding over Yoongi's cock, pressing against Taehyung's hole.

Taehyung holds his breath, keeping his mind focused on Yoongi's sharp, delicate features. When Jungkook starts to press in alongside the elder's cock, a millimeter at a time, Yoongi's eyes flutter closed and he bites his lip. The flush on his skin deepens, from his chest to his ears, his damp hair fanning out across the dark duvet in a pretty, ethereal way. Taehyung tries to breathe through the stretch, falling to his elbows. He tongues his way from Yoongi's collarbone to his ear, his blood pumping so hard he feels like he's pulsing with the force of it. When the head of Jungkook's cock finally breaches his hole, the younger pauses, his breath audible and haggard.

Taehyung feels Jungkook's hands smoothing over his back, he can hear the younger choking out encouraging words, asking if he's okay. Yoongi's dark eyes meet his, and Taehyung nods, lost to the feeling of being so stretched, so full, his consciousness humming at the knowledge that it's going to get even better. At his nod, Jungkook pushes in a little more, just a bit at a time, checking at every inch to see how Taehyung is doing. He just nods, muttering his consent each time the younger asks, watching pleasure burst behind Yoongi's glassy eyes.

Finally, fucking finally, Jungkook is pressing in the last inch of his cock. He pauses, stilling, letting Taehyung breath and adjust, and the only sounds in the room, in the entire house, are the sounds of harsh, choked breathing. The other four watch with their faces full of reverent awe, from their various positions around the room. Taehyung can feel their gazes on his skin, feel the collective arousal in his bones, and he glows with pride.

After what seems like a decade, Taehyung's walls finally give, relaxing enough that Jungkook's cock slips, sliding in a little deeper, dragging against Yoongi's. The elder curses, his deep as sin voice barely over a whisper. "So-fucking-good," he grits out, and Taehyung nods his head, in full agreeance. Jungkook slowly begins to rock his hips, his cock barely moving, just enough to loosen Taehyung so the both of them will be able to fuck him. After a choked whimper escapes from Taehyung's lips, Yoongi arches his hips up, his cock sliding alongside Jungkook's, pressing harshly into the younger's prostate, and Taehyung can feel his own length throb, the pleasure sharp and bright.

Taehyung rises up, on shaking arms, to brace his hands on Yoongi's chest. Yoongi, unsure of Taehyung's ability to hold himself up, blinks till his eyes are clear, his own hands on Taehyung's chest, helping him lift up. This movement has all three of them gasping, sending Yoongi's cock deeper, and Taehyung curses, his head hanging low. When Yoongi is sure that he's not going to collapse, the elder lets his arms fall above his head, his dark eyes deepening into a pleasure-filled haze. Taehyung almost giggles at the blissed-out look on the elder's face, but he's not capable, so he settles for a weak grin.

With the head of Yoongi's cock digging into his spoiled prostate, Taehyung nods, glancing over his shoulder to nod again at Jungkook. The younger looks scarcely more aware than Yoongi, his usually-wide eyes bare slits of darkened pleasure. His mouth is slack, the tip of his pink tongue pinched between his teeth, and the tendons of his neck are prominent, straining against the tight feel of being pressed against Yoongi's cock, squeezed by Taehyung's fluttering walls. When he meets Taehyung's eyes, he seems to understand that it's up to him, and he smirks almost teasingly.

The entire room groans in unison, as Jungkook pulls out halfway, rolling smoothly back in. The slide of his cock on Yoongi's has the elder's cock pressing into Taehyung's prostate, and Taehyung's voice rings out louder than the others'; he's so fucking full, so fucking spent and sore, but he's high on the feeling. His brain whites out, bliss reaching every corner, and if he had the capacity to think, he would have been surprised by the fact that he's holding himself up and still breathing. But Jungkook is thrusting in earnest now, still shallowly, still careful, but it's too much, and Taehyung feels like he's being ripped apart by pleasure on a molecular level. His skin sings, his blood screams out in pleasure, his heart beating in sync with Jungkook's thrusts.

Below him, Yoongi writhes, his eyes slitted open to stare up at him. The elder's mouth his open, needy, high sounds escaping with each drag of Jungkook's cock. It's too much, it's all too much. Sweat pours from Taehyung's face, dripping down his nose, his neck. He can feel Yoongi's cock throb against his prostate, feel Jungkook's pulse against his walls, and he wants to cry, scream, and laugh at all once. He does none of this though, too focused on keeping himself upright, focused on the searing pleasure blazing a trail through his bones. At any moment, he's going to break, spill over, too full on mind-numbing pleasure, so he closes his eyes, his voice echoing through the room. Taehyung is too gone to care about the desperate depth of his grunts and moans, the way pleas and curses spill from his swollen lips.

"Oh-shit," Yoongi gasps, his voice just as wrecked as Taehyung's. "Jung-kook… he's gonna, fuck, he's gonna cum. He's going to fucking cum untouched." This seems to spur Jungkook on, the younger's thrusts becoming harder, deeper. "Harder, Jungkook," Yoongi orders, his voice weak and breaking, "fuck us harder."

Taehyung's brain sizzles in his skull, as he completely loses all sense of everything but the way Jungkook's cock slams into him, the way Yoongi's throbbing length pressed harshly against his prostate. Everything is white, searing, sharp and excruciatingly pleasurable. Taehyung can't even remember his own name, let alone any other details about anything. All he can do is cry out, hot tears of desperation spilling over his cheeks, his cock throbbing, heavy and painful.

It's Yoongi that cums first, letting out a string of curses that has Jungkook groaning, his hands tightening on Taehyung's hips. He arches beneath Taehyung, his hands scrambling for purchase on Taehyung's shoulders. It's the feeling of Yoongi's hot pleasure filling him up, slicking against Jungkook's cock, that has Taehyung's climactic final orgasm crashing over him, ripping through his body like a tornado of blades and salt water. It's harsh, intense, full of immeasurable pleasure and hazy pain. His hole clamps down, trapping Jungkook's cock inside, but the younger is already cumming himself, throwing his head back to cry out. Somehow, miraculously, Taehyung manages to keep himself upright as Jungkook rides out his orgasm, slipping out of Taehyung gently, slowly, Yoongi's cock slipping out just as easily. Taehyung feels their sticky mess flow out of him, and his mind blurs.

It's Hoseok, coming out of nowhere, that catches him as he slumps over, every joint in his body numb. It's Hoseok that helps him lay back against plush, soft pillows, and it's Hoseok that smooths a cool, damp cloth over his face. Taehyung remembers giggling, thanking everyone in a raspy, inaudible voice for letting him serve so well, before he closes his eyes against the tug of exhaustion.

When Taehyung comes to, he's on his belly, a pillow under his cheek. There are small, strong hands working across the sore muscles of his lower back. Jimin is massaging him and humming, speaking in a low voice to Jin, who Taehyung can't see. Directly next to him is Yoongi, curled on his side and facing Taehyung, his eyes closed and his breathing even. Hoseok is curled up behind the sleeping elder, his own even breathing puffing out across Yoongi's tangled hair.

Taehyung turns his head to the other side, and spots Jungkook, sprawled on his back, looking young, true to his age. He's also asleep, soft, breathy snores coming from his slack mouth, his skin still a little after-glowy.

"Sleep, Taehyungie," Jimin murmurs, smacking his bare ass with a feather-light touch. "It's only dawn. Namjoonie has already gone to wake the household. I'll wake you when it's time for a bath and breakfast."

Taehyung nods, letting his head fall back into his pillow. Jimin's hands continue smoothing over the aching muscles against his spine, and he sighs. He's sore, beyond sore, raw and used in ways he's never been, for all his years as a glorified whore. And yet, Taehyung is happy, filled with the unmistakable pulse of love. His six closest friends, his six favorite patrons… he didn't need much else.

The money he'd made tonight, though… that generous amount gives Taehyung the final funds he needs to start building the art academy he'd been planning for half his life. He drifts back to sleep, with a smile on his face, Jimin's hands on his skin and Jungkook's snores in his ear, with thoughts of plans and blueprints and land deeds on his mind

~mod nina

#jungkook

#taehyung

#namjoon

#jimin

#jin

#hoseok

#yoongi