Desire (Namjin Smut fic)

Chapter 6 - My Senses, Not Mine Anymore

Jin's POV

Jin sat on the couch of his apartment. Confused and angry. Confused as to why he was so flustered, so affected, so weak, so easily manipulated. Why he was so sexually frustrated? Angry at the man who left him that way.

The cab ride back home had been torture. Because he only found himself go down the rabbit hole he wanted to avoid. How could he avoid something so evident, when his whole existence screamed for just a bit of his touch. But who was he that he had to have him? Who was he to leave him numb to everything but the burning want cloaking his every thought, eliminating rationality. Who was he to infest his mind, ruining his every conscious second. With his alluring body, inticing words and those magnetic eyes.

He was just so frustrating. And Jin couldn't just escape. He couldn't escape him. He had ways to reel him in, trap him. Like he was a puppet and he held the strings. Like Jin was under a dark spell he cast. Why couldn't he just escape? Was that too hard to. Just forget about him for a moment? He wanted to but his seductive words kept ringing in his ears and he was getting more and more frustrated. So, he decided on the only thing he thought he could do. Numbing himself up on alcohol. He had taken out the bottle of vodka and a glass earlier that was sitting on the coffee table before him.

He poured out some of it on the glass and he greedily looked at the sparking substance. Maybe this could be his relief. He hadn't drank in a long time so the burn as he gulped it down seemed foreign. He got used to it by the third shot and the intensity of it scrambled his brain. His vision was almost blurry as his rational thoughts were going out the window. But the reason he had drunk for, had become even more vivid. He was thinking about someone purple haired. This time, it wasn't bothering him.

He loudly put the glass on the coffee table as he finished his fifth shot and his actions were not so stable at that point. He dug out his phone and hastily went to his camera to find that one picture. That one picture he had succeeded to discreetly take in case he ever needed it. He clicked that photo of Namjoon as the imagination wasn't enough anymore and he needed to see him, even if it was a blurry presentation of him not even looking at the camera. A sick smile found it's way on his lips as he hungrily stared at the low quality photo. He was just so, sexy. He just was. Just seeing him made Jin full of indecent desires. Jin was undeniably under his control anyway he looked at it and there was no other position he would like to be in.

He would like to be pinned under him, screaming his name in pleasure. He would like to know if the confidence behind that smirk actually did come from vast knowledge of how to please a man. He looked at the photo again and wondered how he would really like to know how the man loved someone. His words suggested it was rough and kinky. He would really like to know how much more he could show him.

Just the tips of his fingers put his skin on fire, what could he do if he surrendered himself to him. Just his whispers got him out of control what would his moans do to him. How would the dimpled cheeks look if they flushed with blood and purple hair drenched with sweat. What lied beneath the perfectly tailored clothes, he wanted to know.

(Smut Warning) (Not actual smut, smut but man it's explicit)

Jin felt the room temperature go up as he stared at the mesmerizing man and it was getting harder and harder to keep his clothes on. He put the phone down. The alcohol was clouding his senses and he almost ripped off his shirt, just to feel coolness of the air on his damp skin. He felt a strange air of relief. His breath was ragged as he threw the shirt somewhere on the floor and proceeded to look down. His erection was straining against his pants, wanting to be free.

It was almost to the state of painful when he popped the button and let some of the pressure off, he sighed. He pulled down his pant just to his knees. His gray briefs were darker at the front, wet from the precome and they weren't doing much to cover the state of his member. He pressed the heel of his hand against it and hissed in response to his own ministrations. He lessened the pressure and palmed himself through the thin article. The soft texture of it was creating a rather unique friction against the sensitive skin but even that amount of strain was not tolerable to him.