Thread by @yoonglesheart1

“Fringe Benefits”

When Yoongi said, “I’m so happy, you could slap me on the cheeks and I wouldn’t even be mad,” those weren’t the cheeks he was talking about—and the others knew it.

• Yoongi X OT6
•🔞explicit, nsfw, no minors🔞

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It was just an offhand comment. A cute moment that was then made into gifs and tweeted about by the fans. It happened after their first Billboard Hot 100 #1.

They were doing the vlive when Yoongi turned to the other members and said, “I’m so happy, you could slap me on the cheeks and I wouldn’t even be mad.”

The members made a show of it for the cameras, of course, standing up and cutely patting Yoongi’s face—but they were secretly buzzing inside. They knew full well what Yoongi meant, and those weren’t the cheeks Yoongi was talking about.

The Hot 100 #1 was a special achievement, a product of all their hard work. It was also one of the very few specific milestones that Yoongi had laid out years ago, and they all knew what that meant—Yoongi would reward them for their efforts.

Not that the achievement alone wasn’t worth it, but Yoongi believed in dangling a carrot rather than wielding a stick. It was an added incentive for them all to work towards. You could call it a fringe benefit.

Yoongi was nothing if not a focused, disciplined man. He had weaknesses and temptations, sure, but he did not allow himself to give in to them unless he earned it. Unless they all earned it.

One of his biggest weaknesses, and the one that was about to come to fruition for only the third time ever, was to submit and let himself be used by all the other members for their own sexual pleasure.

It started in 2016 with their first dasaeng, the first big milestone on his list, and then continued in 2019 with the Top Duo/Group BBMA. The Billboard Hot 100 #1 would only be the third time.

There were no rules, really, other than they had to take turns, one each, and they had 24 hours. Other than that, they had free rein to have their way with him wherever, whenever and however they wanted.

So, yes, when Yoongi announced in the vlive that he was now open to getting slapped on the cheeks—a euphemism for the naughtier things to come—they were all excited. Well, all but Jin.

The others didn’t notice, but Jin was the only one that didn’t stand up and partake in cutely patting Yoongi’s cheeks during the vlive. Sure he smiled for the camera—he had to—but he was worried inside.

He knows what happened last time. The others don’t, but he does.

********
Jin and Jungkook’s car is the last one back to dorm after the vlive that afternoon. As they toe off their shoes in the entryway, Jin can already hear the buzz of excited voices in the apartment.

“Jin-hyung! Kook-ah! Come in here,” Namjoon’s voice calls to them from just off the kitchen.

As they round the corner down the entry hall, the other members, sans Yoongi, are huddled around the dining table.

“So how will we choose?” Jimin asks.

“Draw numbers?” Namjoon offers.

“That’s not sexy,” Taehyung replies.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Jungkook recommends shyly, walking up to the table to join the others.

“Definitely not sexy, Kook-ah.” Hoseok ruffles Jungkook’s hair, as Taehyung snickers.

“Let’s do a ladder maze,” Namjoon decides for the group.

“Put me last,” Jin says to the assembled group, before spinning and heading down the hallway.

“But hyung, you don’t have to do that,” Taehyung calls out.

The last position is generally regarded as the least desirable, because you never know what condition Yoongi will be in after hours upon hours of sex with the prior five members.

Stretched out and bruised, listless and unresponsive. Most of the members shy away from that position, just because of the uncertainty, with only the more sadistic members secretly hoping for it. But that’s not why Jin wants it. He has other reasons.

“I want to. Put me last. That’s what I want,” Jin turns back reaffirming his position, as they all nod. Well, all except Hoseok, who pouts, unhappy he won’t have a shot at last position.

He knows they will respect his request since he is still their hyung. He doesn’t pull the hyung card often, but when he does, they listen. He has a feeling he may need to use that card more than once in the next 24 hours.

When Jin arrives at Yoongi’s room, he hears the blow dryer running and knocks loudly, cracking open the door, as Yoongi waves him in.

Yoongi must have showered right when he arrived home for he’s standing there in the nude in front of the mirror, running fingers through his fluffy dark brown undercut as he blows it dry. Jin sits on the bed, waiting for Yoongi to finish.

Yoongi is a sight to see in all his naked glory. A true dichotomy of desires, Yoongi is a little like a chameleon that can be colored to meet any man's needs, and one of several reasons why this fringe benefit is such a huge incentive to the members.

Jin lets his eyes trace across Yoongi’s body while Yoongi is occupied drying his hair. He’s seen Yoongi naked so many times before, but he never ceases to cause Jin’s breath to hitch in his chest.

Yoongi’s curves are soft and supple, but the muscles underneath are powerful and wiry, allowing him to move his body in ways that the softness belies.

Though his frame is small, his hands are large enough to encompass the girth of two cocks or easily wrap around a throat, squeezing the arteries on each side with a thumb and forefinger.

His skin, right now, is pale and almost translucent, unmarried by a single blemish. Jin knows that it will look very different when all this is over.

And that’s mainly why he’s here, in Yoongi’s room, right now—to offer Yoongi some protection, in the form of a moderator.

“A moderator?” Yoongi asks with a raised eyebrow as he grabs a box from his nightstand drawer and sits on the bed next to Jin.

“Yeah, just somebody to be there while you’re with the other members, to make sure everything goes okay,” Jin explains.

“Is this your way of saying your turn is going to be voyeurism themed?” Yoongi teases, bumping Jin’s thigh with his own. Jin winces at the word “turn” as he watches Yoongi’s milky, clean-shaven, thigh jiggle as it bounces off of his.

For some reason, it’s that thigh that’s really doing a number on him, despite the fact that Yoongi’s pretty, soft, cock is only a few inches beyond it.

Yoongi continues, “I mean, I guess I don’t mind if that’s your turn as long as the others don’t care. Hobi though…” Yoongi muses, with a smile.

“Yoongi, I’m not talking about voyeurism.” Jin interrupts, more gruffly than he means to—but he needs Yoongi to listen to him. “I’m talking about keeping you safe.”

“Hyung, I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Yoongi says dismissively, as he scoots back on the bed, laying down and opening the box he was holding to remove a bottle of lube and a butt plug with a pretty blue heart shape at the end.

“Of course you don’t, Yoongi-yah, you were so out of it, it’s no surprise you don’t remember.” Jin says, craning his neck to look at Yoongi on the bed behind him.

“None of the guys is planning to hurt me, hyung. That’s ridiculous,” Yoongi brushes him off, as he lubes up his finger and spreads his legs. Jin gulps, watching Yoongi spread the lube on his rim. So pretty. So pink and puckered and fresh. He tears his eyes away, and refocuses.

“I know that Yoongi-yah. We all love you, and no one wants to hurt you. And I know you don’t want to be hurt—but in the heat of the moment things happen, especially when you aren’t able to speak for yourself,” Jin pleads. “If you won't do it for you, do it for me. Please.”

Yoongi pauses, staring at Jin for a moment with a firm look. Finally, his face softens and he sighs. “Fine. That’s fine. You can moderate, or whatever you call it. But hyung, seriously, this is a reward for all of us. I don’t want you stepping in for anything but an emergency.”

“I’ll be a fly on the wall, Yoongi-yah. Unless I need to get involved for safety.” Jin promises.

“Good, I’ll let the others know.” Yoongi groans as he presses the tip of his finger past the tight circle of muscle at his rim, entering himself. “Now, unless you're gonna lube up your fingers and help me out here, you probably need to leave. I need to get ready for tonight.”

**********
There’s electricity in the air. It’s less of a buzz and more like the feel of charged ions floating through the atmosphere, brushing against the fine hairs on the back of your neck or arms, and causing them to stand on end.

At least that’s what Yoongi thinks as he stands in the kitchen preparing a sandwich for himself. He knows he’ll need to keep his strength up for the hours to come.

He sent a text to the group chat about an hour ago. “Reward hours now open” was all it said. There was no response. Not that he expected any.

When he made his way to the kitchen just minutes earlier he could hear whispers behind closed doors, showers running in the members en-suite bathrooms, music playing just loud enough to barely cover up the moans of masturbation.

He notices towels and condoms and lube placed discreetly throughout each room. All signs of the members preparations.

The tension in the dorm is high—guarded and anxious—but he knows that will change once things get underway.

There will be a shift from heated anticipation to arousal as each member's turn draws near. There may be side activity—he wouldn’t doubt it given the sexual atmosphere.

But he also knows he will be the primary focus of everyone’s attention for the next 24 hours, and that makes him heady with power. He can feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants at the thought.

He’s only ever allowed himself to have sex with the other members as rewards, unlike the rest of the group who he knows fuck each other on occasion.

That makes him a bit of a unicorn, the object of fantasy and desire—and he likes it that way, likes what it unleashes when the others are given free rein with him. Because the dirty little secret is, he enjoys this as much, if not more, than they do.

He knows a little about the members' kinks and quirks, both from the prior rewards and from randomly overheard conversations, but he’s always surprised. He likes to be surprised.

That’s why he doesn’t want to know the order they will fuck him in advance. Or where. Or how. Or for how long. And so he busies himself making a sandwich, and waits, just enjoying the electricity of what’s to come.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

**********
Yoongi can sense someone behind him only milliseconds before he feels fingers thread through the hair at the back of his head, gripping harshly.

The grip is so tight he can feel the strain on his roots, and he can’t move his head at all for fear of ripping it out. It’s just shy of painful, and he can feel his cock begin to swell in response.

The hand in his hair yanks his neck harshly to the side, and a series of pops sound out in the quiet kitchen as his neck cracks, small carbon dioxide pockets released back into the joint fluid.

Yoongi drops the knife he was using to slice a cucumber onto the counter, as his hands reach out for purchase on the counter.

A tongue presses to the skin just above his shoulder, and trails slowly up his neck.

He can feel his heart begin to race, blood coursing through his veins as his carotid artery throbs beneath the tongue pressed to his neck. When the tongue pulls away, he can feel breath against his ear.

“Hyung.” The deep melodious voice reverberates through his body, sending a shiver down his spine. It’s Taehyung. A smile slowly forms on Yoongi’s face—it’s a perfect way to start.

“So lucky I’m first, hyung,” Tae whispers against his neck. “All this pretty skin, just for me.”

Taehyung’s front teeth scrape along the pale skin, leaving twin pink trails in their wake.

“Where to begin is the question,” Taehyung says, laving his tongue over the area where Yoongi’s neck meets his shoulder. “Hmmm, here looks pretty good.”

Taehyung's lips connect to the skin forming a tight suction as Yoongi’s breath catches in his chest and then comes out on a moan.

Taehyung still has his head held at a sharp 45 degree angle as he sucks and bites at Yoongi’s neck, while his other hand moves to wrap around Yoongi’s front—

his long delicate fingers are gentle compared to the hand in Yoongi’s hair, as they reach under his t-shirt, and ghost up his abdomen, circling his nipples.

Yoongi’s dick swells, craving friction pushing back and searching for Taehyung’s body with a whimper in his throat. Taehyung’s lips pull off of him with a pop, as the bruised purple skin on his neck throbs.

“Taehyungie,” Yoongi whispers.

The hand in Yoongi’s hair jerks his head upright and to the side as his body is suddenly pushed forward against the island. Taehyung’s hard cock presses between his cheeks and rubs against the end of the butt plug as Yoongi whines with the sensation.

Then just as suddenly Taehyung’s warmth is gone and he’s being bent forward, hips digging into the edge of the counter as he strains to reach the floor on his tiptoes. He thinks he feels his sandwich and a pile of cucumber slices pressed to his cheek and chest.

“I think I’d like it if you called me sir tonight, Yoongi-yah.” Taehyung says, dropping the honorifics with a slight tremble to his voice. Yoongi knows it must have been hard for Taehyung to say that—he really is such a good boy usually.

This is new for him, as the past two times he was pretty docile when he fucked Yoongi. Yoongi likes this new side.

“Sir,” Yoongi whispers eagerly, acknowledging Taehyung’s request, and encouraging him.

Taehyung’s free hand slips under the waistband of Yoongi’s sweatpants, pushing them down until they pool around Yoongi’s ankles, as his hard cock bounces free from its confines.

Yoongi gasps as Taehyung’s hand wraps around his length stroking once, then twice, spreading the pre-cum at the tip before letting go. He tries to hold in a whine at the loss.

“Your pretty little cock is so hard, Yoongi-yah,” Taehyung says teasingly. “So messy for me already.”

Taehyung’s hand then moves between them, ghosting up Yoongi’s crack and tapping a nail against the butt plug. Tap, tap, tap. Yoongi mewls at the sensation.

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