a/n: /cries [[janitorjimin minsugahs jpony]] this is what happens when jo has ideas planted in her head. oh my god. nope. goodbye. /casually walks out of the galaxy

–

this is really not what jimin had in mind when he applied for the part-time position as cleaning staff at the hershey’s chocolate factory.

it was supposed to be an easy, menial job to make some extra petty cash and keep himself occupied until the end of the summer when he’d go back to school for his second year of college.

when he’d had his interview, jimin was told his duties would involve keeping the dust and gunk out of production areas, and making sure to keep the hallways and unreachable corners clear of trash to prevent any fire hazards.

so then why exactly is he standing in the middle of the dimmed main hall, coated from head to foot in thick, gooey chocolate sauce, the same sticky brown substance spraying out of a tear in some random tube jimin is pretty sure he had not even touched, had he? how did that hole even get there?

goddamnit.

it’s eleven forty-seven at night, and jimin is smeared in confectionery goodness, with no other staff in sight or any possible way to clean it up so he can lock up and finally make his way home.

peachy fucking keen.

that’s just perfect.

jimin closes his eyes, trying to block out the image of the mini flood happening around him because out of sight, out of mind.

he breathes in heavily through his nose, the cloying aroma of chocolate invading all his senses, making him lightheaded and dizzy.

he’s trying not to panic, trying not to hyperventilate here.

zen, chakra, woosa.

jimin thinks maybe he’s gotten his mini panic attack under control when the sound of footsteps spikes up his anxiety levels again.

“hey, what are you doing over there?”

a flashlight shines into jimin’s face, blinding his vision for a brief moment, before the light moves away and points to a spot on the floor beside his feet.

“oh my god, please don’t tell,” the words shoot out of jimin’s mouth before his brain can even process what he’s saying. “i really need this job.”

“jimin?” a familiar voice calls out from the muddy light slanting in through the main entrance, a voice jimin can recognize even in his sleep. “is that you?”

damn it, not now.

“hyung?” jimin shouts back hesitantly. and he watches as the silhouette moves down the stairway, coming closer until, yes, jimin can tell for sure now it’s min yoongi, the security guard.

and also the guy he’s been crushing on for the past five weeks he’s been working here, no big deal.

“jimin, what are you still doing here?” yoongi asks, hopping off the bottom stair and stepping closer. “you on duty?”

“uhh, yeah,” jimin tries to make himself a bit more presentable, attempting to rub away some of the chocolate sauce that’s now hardening into a solid layer on his face.

so mortifying.

oh my god, shoot him now.

“hey, what happened here…” yoongi’s words die on his lips as he finally reaches jimin and stops right before him.

jimin can feel the flames burning behind his cheeks.

yoongi is staring at him as if in a daze, lips slightly parted.

“hyung,” jimin whines, feeling extremely self-conscious as he rubs the back of his hand across his cheek. “help me.”

yoongi blinks, giving his head an almost imperceptible shake as he snaps back to attention.

“um, what?”

“help me,” jimin repeats, running his fingers through his clumped strands of hair.

gross.

“what am i helping you with?” yoongi asks in a distant voice, subconsciously stepping closer.

“hyung,” jimin is getting frustrated now. what is wrong with this guy? and why is he looking at him like that?

and it’s jimin’s turn to be stunned into speechlessness as the man he’d been fantasizing about every night reaches out his hand, lacing his fingers through jimin’s sticky ones, and pulls him closer.

“hyung,” the word catches in jimin’s throat as yoongi lifts their intertwined fingers to his lips, licking a warm, wet stripe down the soft underside of jimin’s arm.

jimin thinks he’s for sure going into cardiac arrest, heart hammering in his chest as if trying to break free through his ribs.

is it getting hot in here?

“hyung,” jimin thinks he must have lost all abilities to language, because that’s the only word his currently jumbled brain seems to be able to come up with.

and even that one word escapes his mind, everything bleeding white as yoongi cups both sides of jimin’s cheeks, pulling him forward into a mind numbing kiss that leaves the younger in a state of near hyperventilation.

what?

jimin is starting to think maybe the factory exploded, and he’d been up caught in the infernal aftermath because everything is just so goddamn hot, and he’s pretty sure he must have died and gone to heaven.

slowly jimin’s tensed muscles thaw, fingers clutching onto yoongi’s uniform as he presses his body in as close as humanly possible. he’s not even sorry about the smears of chocolate stains he’s leaving on the elder’s work clothes.

not his problem.

and while they lick and suck into each other’s mouths, yoongi manages to walk jimin backwards until his back hits the concrete wall, desperately clinging to yoongi’s shoulders because if not, jimin is sure his legs will give way.

“god you look so good like this,” yoongi murmurs, licking up the line of jimin’s neck, savoring the sweet taste of chocolate permeating his tongue. “with your hair plastered to your face like you’ve just had the fuck of your life.”

jimin’s breath stutters, tilting his head to the side to allow for better access.

“except you taste good too,” yoongi grazes his teeth across jimin’s collarbones, and jimin can’t help the soft mewl sounding in the back of his throat.

jimin is starting to lose his mind.

oh my god.

“jimin,” he hears his name shattering through his lovely haze, eyes fluttering open to glance into the eyes he’d been dreaming about for weeks.

“huh?” is all he can really manage at this point.

“are you sure you want this?” yoongi’s face is calm and collected, but his voice holds nothing but concern.

and jimin thinks he just might cry, this guy is perfection.

jimin tries to swallow passed the lump in his throat.

fail.

instead, he nods his head frantically. good enough.

“are you sure?”

“yes!” jimin explodes as the tension in his body becomes too much for him to deal with at the moment. “yes, goddamnit! just fuck me already!”

“damn, okay,” yoongi retracts a little in mild surprise.

his lips stretch into an amused grin as jimin’s small fingers fist into the collar of his uniform, dragging the elder forward to meld their lips together again.

and somewhere along the way, jimin finds himself with his naked, sweaty back pressed into the wooden surface of his boss’s desk, in his boss’s office, with yoongi standing between his legs, one leg thrown over the elder’s shoulder.

well, their boss is known to engage in… extracurricular activities during work hours, with the blinds shuttered closed and door locked. so it’s the only logical place for them to stumble to, mouths still traveling over every bit of available skin as they hunt out the necessary items they’d need.

and of course, their boss doesn’t disappoint.

“harder, faster, oh my god right there,” jimin pants, throwing commands left and right mindlessly, yoongi following each one without a moment’s hesitation.

everything in jimin’s world narrows down to the silky touch of yoongi’s hand sliding up his sweat slicked thigh, the feel of being full to the brim as yoongi slides in and out in long, smooth thrusts.

everything is yoongi, his touch, his taste, his smell.

and jimin is drowning in it, losing himself completely as he’s physically and mentally pushed passed the point of no return, thrown down headfirst over the edge and plummeting into blissful oblivion.

“hyung,” jimin breathes, back arching off the desk as his muscles tense from his pending release, just a little bit more, so damn close.

yoongi leans forward, pressing down on the back of jimin’s thigh still hooked over his shoulder to pound in again at a different angle. and that’s all jimin really needs, not even needing to be touched himself, before he’s coming onto his own stomach, pooling hot and sticky in the dip between his abs.

and yoongi follows not long after, jimin’s tensed muscles compressing down around him until all he feels is the tight heat of jimin’s body, pushing him over the edge as he comes into the condom he’d dug up in one of their boss’s drawer.

yoongi gently removies jimin’s leg from his shoulder and pulls out to tie the condom off, tossing it in the waste basket before reclaiming his position over jimin’s body and leaning down for a slower, softer kiss.

“you still have something right there,” yoongi smiles when he pulls away,  rubbing a thumb across jimin’s cheek.

and jimin can’t help but snort.

“yeah, i bet. damn it.”