𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙚 10 ⚣ 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳

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"M-Mm~ w-we're in an elevator, pleas—" His words got smothered within Jungkook's mouth when they reattached their lips.

Taehyung grappled to keep his breath steady, or breathe at all, as Jungkook kept tugging at his hips to keep him in place since he was squirming everywhere. Taehyung retreated just a centimeter of his lips to get his point across, but Jungkook was insistent.

"Just a minute," Jungkook urged in a stuffy breath, Taehyung got the memo, briefly smirking, he allowed the man to immediately insert his tongue back in. He sort of wanted to take the risk, considering there was no security camera according to Jungkook.

The motions to their bodies were unholy, chests dancing against each other, a lot to unpack. The heat of Jungkook's hands grazed all over Taehyung's waist, grooving the curve and the steep of his ass.

And Taehyung's fumbling hands were wrinkling up Jungkook's jacket, arms wrapped around his shoulders, tiptoeing to gain deeper access into his mouth. Certainly, they were acting like nothing more than two bitches-in-a-heat.

Don't worry, no one was stripping, everything was kid-friendly.

Until— Jungkook's vigorous hands grasped Taehyung's hips and slammed his back against the elevator wall in a harsh manner.

"Hmph!" Taehyung gasped, even his gasp was muffled. Damn it, the compartment almost rocked, though they were too busy making out to care.

When Taehyung was crashed, his tight asscheeks thawed right against the wall, somewhat replicating balloons. Inflated against the mirror reflection, too? It was difficult for Jungkook to shun, to shun that ass. Don't be impressed, it was obvious Taehyung's ass excelled any women Jungkook had ever met or ever had the chance to touch. A gorgeous ass for a gorgeous face.

Jungkook almost felt fortunate to have discovered someone like this. These kinds of people were— inexistent, fictional, or mythical. Someone or something only a daydreamer could perceive.

Was Jungkook going insane? Was Taehyung even real? Perhaps he was so mentally deranged than he thought from everything that his brain invented an impossibly doll-like boy for him.

"Mmm~ do I— haa...taste like m-mashed potatoes?" Taehyung comically inquired, joining his forehead with Jungkook's, the tip of their noses touching as they breathed each other's oxygen, through their ajar lips. Their eyes were raptly challenging each other.

No, that couldn't be it, Jungkook can feel everything, everything was real, so real in fact, he was nearly frightened.

"Hmm~ you also taste like steak," Jungkook gave Taehyung's puffy, faultless cheek a moist kiss. How sweet, what contradicting affection.

Taehyung made a weird guttural noise from that, his palms roaming up to cup Jungkook's neck, making himself submissive by compressing his clavicle in, arching his ass out for Jungkook to seize it better and press his groin back into his. Jungkook's knee began to slide between his legs, Taehyung legit took it as a sign to ride it.

Taehyung whimpered uncontrollably nonstop due to how sensual and addictive Jungkook's knee felt against his crotch.

The way Jungkook repositioned his sex partner for the sake of purchasing his own pleasure made Taehyung turned the fuck on. It was eager of him, how coarse and unbothered by the other's unnecessary 'sensitivity' within this intercourse.

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