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two bros, chillin' in the gay club

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Hoseok’s not new to gay clubs, in concept.

Sure, he’s not exactly a connoisseur, but he’s still somewhat familiar to the entire gay club scene (which probably has to do with the fact that five out of his six closest friends are somewhere in the not-hetero spectrum). He knows the names of most of them, and he knows things like how ‘Illuminati’ is right across the street from ‘Dopamine’, that they play mostly hip-hop at ‘Glam’ and Latino music at ‘Caramba!’, and that Yoongi and Namjoon met each other at an indie one named ‘Honey’ many years ago.

However, he’s never been to one— not until tonight. He’d never really gotten a chance to go to one, so it wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to go. During college he dated a girl who wasn’t very keen on him going to gay clubs, so there was that; then, after college, all of his friends were always so busy that planning any kind of get-together with them and getting all their schedules to match had become a herculean effort. That weekend it seemed that the stars had aligned because everybody was available, nobody was excessively tired, Jimin had finally gotten rid of his asshole boyfriend, and on top of everything, there was a ‘buy one mojito, get a tequila shot for free’ promo at Illuminati. There’s no way he’s not going, even if he didn’t want to go.

It took him a while to get ready, though, since he wasn’t sure how should he dress. He sent a panicked message to the group chat asking if there was a dress-code for gay clubs or something, and the replies made it clear that his question was stupid (a ’it baffles me how straight you are’ from Namjoon, an ironic ’a clown costume’ from Yoongi, a useless string of ㅋㅋㅋ from Seokjin, and a sweet ’just what you’d wear for any night out is fine, hyung ^^’ from Jimin).

Once he’s there, he must say that things aren’t very different from the non-gay clubs he’s been to. The illumination is colorful and not good at all, the music is loud, there is cigarette smoke lingering in the air in spite of all the ‘no smoking’ signs stuck on the walls, and there’s people flirting wherever he looks. The only big difference is that those people flirting with each other are all of the same gender, and that he’s seen so many shirtless men he might as well be at a gym’s locker room (which means there was a dress code after all). Also, there’s drag queens, which is pretty cool if you ask Hoseok, because he’s never seen one in real life.

It’s even better that Seokjin is there, too.

Seokjin is great.

Like him, he’s not gay, but unlike him, he has been to gay clubs and bars before. He seems to know his way around and he seems comfortable enough, so Hoseok ends up relying on him a lot – especially when, after dancing and having fun together in the dancefloor for a while, Yoongi and Namjoon disappeared and got lost in the club, and Jungkook and Taehyung pulled Jimin along with them in order to find him someone to spend the night with. The music is good and Hoseok is an actual certified dancer, but he doesn’t feel confident (i.e., drunk) enough to stay at the dancefloor of a gay club all by himself, so he seeks Seokjin out.

Seokjin opted out of dancing, deeming himself too sober, so Hoseok easily finds him by the bar, looking nothing short of a runway model despite being obviously in the clothes he wore to work. Now, Hoseok’s not gay, but he can appreciate beauty when he sees it, and Seokjin is fucking covered in it. Calling Seokjin handsome is as much of a scientifically proven fact as it is that seawater is salty or that fire is hot.

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok greets Seokjin with a grin, putting his arm around his broad shoulders as he reaches his side. Seokjin flinches at first, most likely in surprise, but he quickly relaxes when he realizes it’s Hoseok. “Are you having fun being lame? Why didn’t you come dance with us?”

Seokjin huffs and rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“I told you already; I’m not drunk enough to make a fool of myself yet, for one. And also, I’m on my office clothes. I can’t dance in my office clothes,” he argues, and although both things are debatable, Hoseok shrugs and lets him be. There is a half-full mojito in front of him, and an already empty shot glass next to it, and he wonders if later into the night he’d be willing to join him in the dancefloor, maybe. At least he won’t ditch him for other guys, and they can dance in a strictly platonic, strictly no-homo way. Seokjin seems as sober as ever, though, and Hoseok kinda envies that, being the supreme lightweight he is.

“Still, lame,” Hoseok replies just for the hell of it, smirking at Seokjin as he lets go of him to lean against the bar and stand next to him instead. He gets the bartender’s attention (a miraculous feat in such a crowded place) and he orders a mojito while Seokjin sips on his own beside him.

“So, I assume your first gay-club experience is going well, then? You look like you’re having fun,” Seokjin says amusedly, playing with the black straw of his almost-empty drink and stabbing mint leaves with it.

“It’s going great, yeah— though it’s pretty much the same, I guess. It just smells a lot more like Axe,” Hoseok jokes, laughing loudly when Seokjin snorts and nearly chokes on his mojito in the process. “No, but really. It’s fun. I mean, I wish I didn’t have to see so many shirtless guys, or guys with their tongues down each other’s throats everywhere I look, but it’s fine. The music’s better than at straight clubs.”

“You’ve never kissed a guy?” Seokjin asks, suddenly, as casually and conversationally as if he was asking about the weather or taxes.

“No?” Hoseok replies, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, aside from that dumb dare game in college where I had to kiss Yoongi for fifteen seconds and Minah refused to kiss me for like, a week, no. Why do you ask?”

Seokjin laughs at the memory, but then he shrugs. “No reason, just curious.”

Hoseok hums, and he supposes it’s fair that he is. They’ve never really talked about stuff like this despite being in a group comprised mostly of gay people. In fact, Hoseok is suddenly curious too, so he turns his head at Seokjin and asks, “what about you?”

Seokjin shakes his head in reply.

“Nope. Also only in dare games, like you, but those don’t count,” he answers, easily.

“Yeah, no, those don’t count,” Hoseok agrees. He stays quiet for a moment, during which he receives his drink and his tequila shot, but it’s actually not silent at all. The music is pounding, making the floor and the bar vibrate, and there are people screaming and yelling and singing all around. It’s loud and it’s nice, and Hoseok is only vaguely aware that he’s tapping his foot to the beat of the song that’s playing. He takes a long sip from his drink before he asks Seokjin yet another question, his curiosity getting the most of him. “Is it something that you’d like to try? Kissing a guy, I mean. To see what it’s like, or something.”

“Ehh, I don’t know,” Seokjin replies, “for science, maybe. But I’d have to be either very drunk or very into him, or both.”

“Same,” Hoseok says, nodding. “It’s not like I’m opposed to it, or something. But girls are… Girls. You know?”

“Oh, I know.”

Of course he knows. Hoseok knows he knows, and Hoseok knows too. College was a fun time, especially during the times they were both single and they were dumber and more immature. They went girl-hunting together, they Tinder’d their way through stressful weeks and showed off their hook-ups to each other, and Hoseok knew Seokjin had seen him with a lapful of stripper during the bachelor party of an older friend of theirs during second year. Hoseok, in turn, had seen Seokjin taking not one, but two girls home on a single night. Later on, Hoseok dated Minah for almost three years, and Seokjin had had his own fair share of girlfriends he was absolutely enamored with. They were and have always been the token straight friends, and Hoseok supposes that’s one of the many reasons they’ve always been so close.

He’s in the middle of talking to Seokjin animatedly about something when suddenly he feels a hand resting on the small of his back and a firm body pressing against his arm and his side.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, and Hoseok turns away from Seokjin to find a tall and muscular man he hasn’t ever seen before standing right next to him, a smirk on his face. He’s not ugly by any means, and he looks like he could be the definition of a fun time for somebody else. Jimin, maybe. But not Hoseok. In fact, just the fact that he’s touching Hoseok is enough to make him a little bit annoyed.

“Uh, hi,” Hoseok replies, dryly. He debates whether to add something else, but the guy beats him to it and his deep voice interrupts his thoughts.

“You’re here by yourself?” He asks, to which Hoseok raises an eyebrow because he was clearly talking to somebody before the guy interrupted him.

“Uh, no? If you couldn’t tell,” he answers, not too nicely. “Do you need help with anything, or…?”

The man shrugs, but his hand is still very much on Hoseok’s back. Low on it.

“I was hoping I could buy you a drink. I saw that you seemed kinda busy, but I thought that maybe I could change your mind,” he says, and Hoseok has to suppress the need to laugh mockingly at his face. Is this how girls feel when guys hit on them at clubs? It’s his first time in such a position, and all of a sudden, he wishes he could take back every time he walked up to a girl and hit on her shamelessly just because he believed he was in his right to do so.

“Sorry, that’s not happening,” Hoseok tells him, not really feeling sorry at all. Next to him Seokjin laughs, and the next thing he feels is his friend pulling the man’s arm away from him and wrapping his own arm around his waist instead, hugging him and pulling him closer. Hoseok turns to give Seokjin a little estranged look at the sudden closeness, to which the older man rolls his eyes in un-amusement.

He leans closer to whisper into Hoseok’s ear to just ”do what he does and roll with it, okay?”, and that gesture alone seems to work for something, because the man actually steps away from them. Finally.

“Oh, he’s your boyfriend?” The man asks, suddenly looking genuinely apologetic.

Hoseok frowns in confusion for a moment, but then he realizes— it’s a smart move. He’s not in the mood to get hit on by random guys. He’s not into guys. Seokjin isn’t into guys either, but they’re in a gay club together. Being straight himself, it’s safe to assume that Seokjin doesn’t want to get hit on by guys either, so maybe if they join forces they can prevent it with just a little PDA. An arm wrapped around one another, and a little whispering can do the trick. It’s genius; Seokjin’s a genius. Just a little touch and it seems that they’re safe from unwanted attention.

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” Seokjin says with confidence, moving a little closer and squeezing Hoseok around his midsection. It makes Hoseok stiffen up at first, but he tries to relax into the touch to not make it seem like he’s not used to his (supposed) boyfriend touching him.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I really couldn’t tell,” the man apologizes again, actually bowing his head as he does so. Seokjin laughs, the sound of it ringing pleasantly in Hoseok’s ear.

“No worries. He’s so cute, it can’t be helped he gets hit on wherever we go,” Seokjin says, and he actually brings his hand to Hoseok’s face to squeeze his cheek with his fingers, which are ice-cold from being pressed against his cold glass for so long. Hoseok wants to hiss at the feeling, but he swallows the discomfort and jumps right into the game instead. He takes his own cold hand to the back of Seokjin’s neck and presses his icy fingers against his hot nape.

“Aw, Jinnie-hyung, you know it’s the other way around,” Hoseok says, smirking evilly when he feels a strong shiver shooting through Seokjin’s body when he touches him and rubs his skin with his cold fingers. “I have to swat them all away like flies, you’re so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, baby,” Seokjin retorts in a voice that borders on saccharine, squeezing around Hoseok’s waist again, though this time digging his fingers a little deeper. Hoseok yelps at the feeling, and in retaliation he presses his hand fully against Seokjin’s skin. The older man hisses and tries to push Hoseok away at last , while Hoseok just laughs. “Stop, stop—! He’s gone, he’s gone! Yah, you didn’t have to do that, Jung Hoseok!”

Hoseok doesn’t stop laughing as he watches Seokjin shrugging his shoulders and rolling his neck a little, most likely to warm up the area that he abused with his cold hands.

“You did it first, though!” He argues, but Seokjin huffs.

“Psh, I saved your ass! You should be thanking me instead of mistreating me,” Seokjin complains and Hoseok laughs again as he brings his drink to his face to sip from the black straw, all the while looking around to make sure the guy truly left. He didn’t notice when he left, he was so caught up playing with Seokjin.

“I complimented you nicely, isn’t that enough?” he says, a little distractedly, before focusing back on Seokjin. The first buttons of his shirt are open, revealing tan skin that contrasts pretty nicely against his crisp light blue shirt.

“Nah, buy me another drink and maybe I’ll forgive you,” Seokjin says. He pauses for a moment, his eyes meeting Hoseok’s. They look at each other for a few seconds, and for a weird, electrifying moment, it feels as if the music and the crowd around them are gone. Not too long after, the moment is over, and a smirk takes over Seokjin’s face before he adds, echoing a word he’d said before, on the fly: “baby.”

Hoseok snorts, and he actually swats at Seokjin’s chest, even if something strange and hot creeps up to his cheeks and ears.

“Don’t,” he warns, rolling his eyes when Seokjin starts laughing his characteristic windshield-wiper laugh.



Hoseok does end up buying Seokjin and himself another drink, and this time they cheer with their tequila shots before they down them at the same time. Hoseok hates tequila, he really does, and he knows that it’s stupid of him to drink even one shot of it because he knows he will start doing things he will regret. And yet, there he is, taking a second shot, and then, a second mojito.

Now, as it was stated before, Hoseok’s not new to the concept of gay clubs. Hoseok’s not new to hanging out with gay people, either. He’s not new to gay people kissing and being in love with each other while he’s in the immediate perimeter. He also considers himself an A+ ally of the LGBTQ movement, and he always listens attentively when Namjoon starts explaining things like why gay representation is so necessary in the media, or why the patriarchy sucks. Granted, he had a few fuckboy tendencies before, but he’s pretty sure he’s grown up since then and that he’s learnt a lot from the world, something he is thankful for.

However, Hoseok is new to getting hit on by people of his same gender.

He can’t complain considering that he is the outsider in this context, and that it’s him who is disrupting the harmony and peace of the environment with his cis-heterosexuality. He knows that just by being there he is giving permission for other guys to walk up to him and chat him up, and it’s not their fault that Hoseok isn’t actually gay.

But still, he’s very, very thankful for Seokjin.

The older man seems more used to getting hit on by guys, and it shows by how coolly he handles himself when men approach him every now and then. He lets them down easily, says he’s sorry with a (cute) pout as he puts his arm around Hoseok in a somewhat possessive gesture and leans his head against his, and the words “I’m with my boyfriend” sound so honest, they’d totally convince Hoseok if he himself wasn’t the fake boyfriend.

They keep on drinking like that. Talking about nothing and everything, laughing and joking around, but suddenly clinging to each other when somebody tries to pick either of them up. At a certain point, the entire thrill of it (and undoubtedly also the alcohol) gives Hoseok the confidence to plant a kiss on Seokjin’s cheek, a gesture that Seokjin retaliates the next time around. They keep getting closer to each other until suddenly they find themselves in a different position, with Hoseok’s back against the edge of the bar and Seokjin standing in front of him. The older man’s hand is on Hoseok’s waist, while Hoseok plays distractedly with the buttons of Seokjin’s shirt. It’s ridiculously couple-y, but also ridiculously effective. They haven’t had guys approach them since they went into de facto couple mode.

Seokjin’s probably on his fourth mojito, Hoseok stuck on his third (because he doesn’t want to get as wasted, though he’s still drunker than Seokjin), when another guy interrupts their conversation.

He’s clearly drunk himself, but his intention isn’t to pick any of them up.

He’s just waiting for his drink at the bar when he sees them.

“Oh my god, you guys are so cute together!” the guy says (nearly coos at them), really excited for some reason. Hoseok grins out of drunkenness and out of their plan working flawlessly, and he doubles his efforts by pulling Seokjin closer by the shirt so that he can lean his head on his chest. Seokjin, too, goes the extra mile, slipping his hand under Hoseok’s shirt even if it’s on the opposite side from the guy and he can’t really see it. Details.

“Like, you’re cute individually, but together? Jesus Christ—!” the guy continues, “you’re so boyfriendly without being trashy and all up on each other’s business in a public place. I love that.”

Seokjin laughs at that, and Hoseok feels the rumble of it in his chest.

“Thank you, I guess? You’re really nice!” he tells the guy, but the guy waves him off.

“Nah, I just know real love when I see it. So how did you guys meet each other?” the guy asks.

The question is easy, thankfully, and neither of them has to lie for it.

“College,” they say, in goddamn unison, and Hoseok’s tipsiness has him giggling like a fool.

“You’re college sweethearts, then?” the guy asks, his eyes nearly sparkling. “Shut up, that’s so cute. You’ve been together for a long time, then?”

“Weeell,” Seokjin starts, looking at Hoseok who is still giggling uncontrollably and ending up laughing himself. “Some seven years, I guess.”

Hoseok nods because, yup, seven years sounds about right. He knows the guy is probably asking about how long they’ve been a couple, but doesn’t have to know that they’re talking about the time they’ve been friends.

“Seven years? And you’re still together? Fuck, man, congratulations—! That’s true love right there,” he says, and Seokjin laughs as he thanks him again. Just then, the bartender gives the guy his drinks, and Seokjin takes that time to make a funny face at Hoseok. He raises an eyebrow down at him and makes a subtle gesture at the guy with his head, followed by a shrug, and Hoseok can’t help but think that, if they were actually dating each other, he wouldn’t be able to resist pulling Seokjin down into a kiss because that whole gesture was absolutely adorable. But they’re not dating. They’re not even into each other, and so Hoseok, just laughs softly and nods in agreement at... whatever it was that Seokjin tried to say with that gesture.

The guy leaves, then, but not without wishing them and their relationship all the luck in the world, and only after he’s gotten lost in the crowd, Seokjin allows himself to laugh for real.

Hoseok joins right in, leaning forwards out of reflex, pressing his face to the base of Seokjin’s neck and holding onto his bicep. Seokjin’s hand is still on his hip, his warm palm on Hoseok’s just-as-warm skin, and his fingers dig onto his flesh as he laughs. Hoseok’s a little too drunk to realize how intimate their position is, and even if he realized, he’d be a little too drunk to care.

“He really thought we’ve been dating for seven years!” Seokjin says, speaking into Hoseok’s ear, and Hoseok nods, pulling away while grinning brightly.

“I know, how ridiculous is that?” He comments, all the while his fingers trace the buttons of Seokjin’s shirt, from the ones that are undone at the top, to the ones around his midsection. “He even called us— what was it? College sweethearts?”

“And he said he knows true love when he sees it, too! I had no idea you were in love with me, baby,” the older man says, to which Hoseok just laughs and shrugs. His mind is hazy, and Seokjin’s hand feels good against his skin, but this is all just play flirting, he supposes.

“Well, neither did I, so I guess we’re even. Oh god, this is so much fun…” Hoseok comments, and Seokjin hums, nodding as he looks down at him. Looking up at him, he gets struck by a lot of sudden questions. Just now, they got lucky that the answers to the questions the guy asked where factual ones, but what if somebody asked them something more particular about their fake relationship? Say, who confessed first, or what their first date was, or how they spent their last anniversary (because, apparently, they’ve had seven so far).

That’s why, without thinking much (not that he can, considering his brain and blood cells are drowning in mojito and tequila at the moment), he says, “If somebody asks, let’s say you confessed first.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow at that, but he doesn’t seem put off in the slightest. In fact, his lips are actually quirking upwards into a little (and attractive?) smirk.

“I did?”

Hoseok nods his head.

“Yup. You did. In the rain.”

“In the rain?”

“Dramatic effect,” Hoseok explains, simply.

Seokjin clicks his tongue, but he nods, accepting it. “Okay, fine. I confessed in the rain, but only if we made out afterwards—”

“—obviously, but—” Hoseok tries to say, but Seokjin continues talking right over him.

“—and only if afterwards you caught a bad cold because of it and I had to take care of you for a few days,” Seokjin finishes, smirking smugly.

Hoseok blinks up at him but he ends up laughing and nodding his head. “Sounds good. Very much like a drama, but good. It’s very romantic, though. I didn’t know you had that in you, hyung.”

“Well, I do,” the older man replies, bringing his free hand to his face and blowing a hand kiss at him in a way too silly, way too over-the-top gesture that has Hoseok rolling his eyes and doing a vomiting gesture. Seokjin speaks again before too long, though. “And speaking about having things in you…” he starts, his words nearly making Hoseok choke on air because, woah, that took a little unexpected turn. Seokjin seems unfazed, though, a playful smile plastered on his (handsome) face. “I think we should decide who tops who.”

Hoseok looks up at Seokjin with his eyebrows raised as if asking ’really? Are we really doing this?’, but not because it’s an uncomfortable topic or anything like that. But because, well— does that question even need to be asked?

“Please,” Hoseok says, smirking confidently up at Seokjin. “It’s clearly me who tops.”

The older man cocks his head to the side, unconvinced.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I do.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “No, I do.”

“Oh, come on, what’s wrong with getting fucked every once in a while? Some people do it on the daily, and one of us has to if we want this fake-relationship to work! It’s fun, honestly.”

Hoseok’s jaw drops at Seokjin’s words and his eyes fly open. “It’s fun? How do you—? You’ve—? I mean… You said you’d never kissed a guy before, right, so how do you—?”

Seokjin laughs, shaking his head and interrupting his incoherent questions by placing a hand on his mouth. They must look pretty ridiculous, with Hoseok in his clubbing outfit and Seokjin in his office clothes, with Hoseok sandwiched between the bar and Seokjin’s (honestly pretty nice) body while they argue over make-pretend stuff.

“Pegging, Hoseok. It’s a thing, and it’s actually fun. It feels good. So I’m telling you, because I know: nothing wrong with getting fucked every once in a while,” the older man states as confidently as he can, though Hoseok can see his face darkening considerably with a blush under the lights of the club.

It’s the alcohol’s fault, it must be the alcohol’s fault, because all of a sudden, the image of Kim Seokjin, one of his best friends and current fake boyfriend, pops in his brain. Naked, on all fours, and getting fucked from behind, his hands scrambling for purchase on the bed blankets and his head throwing back while sounds of pleasure escape his throat.

There’s no way something like that isn’t the alcohol’s fault.

Hoseok coughs and shakes his head subtly, if only to get rid of such a (hot but inappropriate) image.

“But that settles it, then! You know what it’s like to get fucked, and you like it, right? So, you might as well,” Hoseok says, but Seokjin insists, shaking his head.

“No, I refuse. For starters, I’m your hyung and I’m taller than you. But who cares about that— Seokseok-ah, baby: have you seen your ass?”

Hoseok almost huffs.

“It’s flat,” he deadpans, trying not to think about the way the word baby sounds when coming from Seokjin’s lips directed towards him. It’s not good to think of something like that when you just pictured said Kim Seokjin getting fucked by an invisible person who may or may not be himself.

“It’s not. It’s a nice ass, in my opinion,” Seokjin says, and then— then Seokjin lowers his hand from where it was holding him by the hip. Perhaps Seokjin is just as drunk as Hoseok is, because his hand is suddenly hovering over his ass, following the curve of it through his tight black pants. It makes Hoseok’s breath hitch in his throat, and for some reason, it makes him look down to where their bodies are almost pressed together for a split second. It’s… Unusual, all of this. But it doesn’t feel wrong at all. He’s not thinking much; he just wants to get closer, and that’s new. “Okay, it’s no Jimin, but nobody can beat Jimin in the ass department. But it’s still a better ass than mine. Way better.”

Hoseok’s mouth is a little dry, and he has no better idea to get out of this situation than suggesting—

“Rock paper scissors?” He asks, putting his fist up between the two of them (but not doing anything to push Seokjin away). “It’s obvious neither of us is going to cede.”

Seokjin snorts, but he seems to like the idea. He moves his hand back to Hoseok’s hip, and he puts up the other in order to play.

“Alright. Rock paper scissors. No whining if you lose,” he warns, and Hoseok nods.

“Yeah, hyung, no whining,” he says, playfully, and then they start.

“Rock, paper, scissors—!”

Seokjin pulls out paper.

Hoseok pulls out fist.

Seokjin wins.

“Ha!” the older man whoops in victory, shaking his fist in the air triumphantly. “Yes, I win! Your ass is mine, now, officially.”

Hoseok doesn’t get mad, he really doesn’t, but he can’t help but roll his eyes at Seokjin’s reaction. “Yeah, yeah, whatever— but you know we can switch positions, right? Like, you don’t have to fuck me every single time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Seokjin assures him. He’s smiling in a way that is almost dark and his eyes hooded, and he looks so good. “I just really want to fuck you, you know?”

Hoseok nearly gasps at that, once again. He’s looking up at Seokjin, almost pressed up against his body, but definitely pressed up against the bar because of him. He’s got his hand still splayed on the elder’s chest, while Seokjin’s hand is underneath his shirt, his touch hot against his skin. It was a game. It was supposed to be a game, at least. It’s been a few hours since they started playing it, but now, there’s something dark and heady in Seokjin’s eyes as he looks down at him— something that Hoseok feels in himself as well.

Hoseok had pictured Seokjin on his knees, but it just occurred to him that maybe Seokjin had pictured him in the same position, in turn, and the idea of Seokjin fantasizing about him shouldn’t be so hot.

It’s a game. A stupid, silly, ridiculous game that got a little bit out of hand, and now Hoseok is getting turned on.

“A-Anyway,” Hoseok says, cutting the tension that had built around them like a house of cards and breaking it to pieces. He pushes Seokjin away, gently, and he moves away so he can get a hand on his abandoned third mojito. He doesn’t add anything else because he has no idea what you can say to a friend who just admitted to wanting to fuck you (right after you imagined yourself fucking them. It’s rough, okay?)

All he does is knock down both, what was left of his drink, and his third untouched tequila shot.

Lucky for him, Yoongi and Namjoon appear a few moments later, before awkwardness even has a chance to appear.

“Hey, guys, are you having fun? You look like someone died,” Yoongi says, eyeing them warily. “Maybe you should’ve worn a clown costume after all, Hoseok-ah.”

“Ha-ha,” Hoseok replies, but he can’t help but laugh when he sees Yoongi is grinning at his own dumb joke. It’s actually way funnier now, with three drinks and three shots in his system. Maybe if he had worn a clown costume, nobody would’ve tried hitting on him. “Nah, we’re having fun. The mojitos are great. They’re so good, actually, but I gotta ask, why are there so many shirtless dudes in this place?”

“I’ve actually never known myself,” Namjoon answers, laughing. “Are you drunk? Are you really having fun? We’re thinking of heading back.”

“Where are the others?” Seokjin asks, curiously.

“They went back already,” Yoongi replies.


“Together,” he adds, and Seokjin gasps, nodding almost solemnly.


“Yeah,” Yoongi says. “So, are you coming with us or not? Not in that way, obviously.”

Hoseok snorts at Yoongi’s lame joke, but he nods at him. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”



It turned out that Yoongi and Namjoon disappeared moments ago because they went to the rest room on the upper level, and, apparently, Namjoon nearly slipped on his way out of it and ended up knocking over a bucket with soap water. It was a mess, and people kept on slipping on it, but Namjoon slipped first, and he hurt his ankle when he fell. He didn’t sprain or twist it or anything, but of course it hurt him, so they stayed on one of the lounges of the club until Namjoon felt alright to walk again.

Seokjin couldn’t stop laughing as Yoongi told them the story of what happened while he drove, and honestly neither could Hoseok. He could totally imagine the utter chaos that Namjoon had accidentally wreaked all the while hurting himself in the process.

Seokjin is sitting next to Hoseok in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, a full empty seat between the two of them. The windows are slightly rolled down, so there is a chilly breeze messing up their hairs and their clothes, but if Hoseok looks in Seokjin’s direction he knows his face will heat up right away in spite of the cold air.

So he doesn’t look at him.

It’s tense, honestly, more so than in the club. Not awkward, just… Heavy and electric with a strange kind of tension.

“How about you, though, did you really have fun? Or was this gay adventure way too much for you?” Yoongi asks, looking at Hoseok through the rearview mirror.

“It wasn’t too much, hyung, who do you take me for? I told you, it was awesome. Very fun. I don’t even resent you for ditching me anymore, now that I know that you were helping Namjoonie. Also, I had Jin-hyung to keep me company, so it was nice,” Hoseok says, though he doesn’t look at Seokjin.

“We got hit on,” Seokjin chirps in, then, sitting closer to the edge, but also closer to the middle. Closer to Hoseok. “Like, so many times. We could’ve had free alcohol all night if we’d wanted to.”

Hoseok ends up laughing at that.

“When you put it like that, it sounds like we should’ve accepted,” he says, finally looking at Seokjin, and shit, he really shouldn’t have. Seokjin was looking at him already, so their eyes met when he turned his head towards him. He’s smiling wide, and he looks so handsome with the wind whipping through his black hair and making his blue shirt flap and flutter. He looks so handsome, he’s always been handsome, but looking at him now, all Hoseok can hear in his head is I just really want to fuck you, over and over again.

It makes him shiver subtly, and despite himself, it makes him move a little closer.

“Nah,” Seokjin says, and his voice sounds really clear in Hoseok’s ears— nothing at all like the way it sounded like in the club, muffled by the loud music. “I had fun with you. Those guys would’ve ruined it.”

They keep on talking, though Hoseok gets a little lost in the conversation. It’s mostly just Namjoon and Yoongi talking back and forth, really, with the occasional input from Seokjin and Hoseok, but somewhere along the way, driven by a dark impulse, Hoseok puts his hand on Seokjin’s leg. Just above his knee, through his perfectly-fitting black slacks.

Seokjin’s hand ends up on his leg, too, a little further upwards, but still on relatively tame territory.

They look at each other, and Seokjin smiles as if asking Hoseok if it’s okay, and Hoseok— Hoseok nods, and he moves his hand a little further upwards to be at Seokjin’s same level. Seokjin chuckles softly while Namjoon and Yoongi argue about something, but then he leans forward to whisper into Hoseok’s ear, his soft lips caressing Hoseok’s ear in the way and making him shiver.

“What do you think they’d say if we asked them which one of us would top?” Seokjin asks him, half casual, half something else, and his breath kinda smells like the mint and rum of the mojitos. His words make Hoseok’s breath hitch, but also laugh as he pulls back to look at Seokjin with wide eyes.

“If you ask them, I’ll kill you with my own bare hands,” he threatens, but Seokjin just laughs as he starts stroking Hoseok’s leg with his hand, slowly and subtly, but purposefully. His fingers drag over the tight fabric of Hoseok’s pants, and the feeling is making him dizzy. The alcohol already has him dizzy, but Seokjin is making it all worse, with his minty breath and the way it fans against his ear, with the way he touches his leg, and with the way his voice keeps resounding in his head, I just really want to fuck you, I just really want to fuck you, time and time again.

“What are you talking about? What’s this about ‘killing’ you’re saying, and can it wait until you’re not in my car?” Yoongi says, and Seokjin snorts.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing. We were… We were just talking,” Hoseok reassures Yoongi, sending Seokjin a look that is somewhere between a smirk and a death glare and a look of complicity.

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, returning the Hoseok’s look with one of his own before he looks up at Yoongi. “Yoongi-chi, you’re driving to my place first, right? How about you just drop Hoseok there, so you don’t have to make a stupid turnabout afterwards?”

Hoseok’s jaw drops at that.

Fuck, Seokjin is taking him home with him; he wants to take him home. It’s— is it happening?

He unconsciously curls his fingers and squeezes on the flesh of Seokjin’s thigh to call his attention. When Seokjin looks at him, his smirk is still very much in place. The idea is actually good— if Hoseok stops to think about it (or to try to think about it, considering he’s still quite drunk), he knows it’s the best thing for them to do. He does live pretty far from Seokjin, after all, and Yoongi would save a lot of gas if he just dropped him in his place.

And not only that, but there is something strange crawling under Hoseok’s skin. He doesn’t know when it started, but it was definitely while Seokjin and he were at the bar and all up in each other’s square meter. The hand that Seokjin has on his thigh is only adding fuel to this strange, unusual kind of fire that is spreading through his nervous system, and the hand that he has on Seokjin’s thigh is tempted to move further up for a reason he can’t pinpoint. It is happening.

I just really want to fuck you.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, holding the older man’s gaze and unconsciously licking his lips while still doing eye contact. “Yeah, hyung, that’d be great, actually. Just drop me off at Jin-hyung’s.”

Yoongi agrees, and he also thanks them for their consideration too, but Hoseok isn’t listening. All he can see is Seokjin’s eyes and the way they look at him, and Seokjin’s lips and the way he nibbles on them. All he can feel is Seokjin’s hand, touching his thigh in a way that shouldn’t be so enticing. All he can hear is Seokjin’s words, echoing in his head, once again.

I just really want to fuck you.

Honestly, at this point, Hoseok thinks he really wants that too.



Something weird happens on their way up to Seokjin’s apartment.

They’re in silence as they cross the lobby, but Hoseok takes Seokjin’s hand in his for some impulsive, reckless reason. Seokjin, though, he not only accepts it, but he also intertwines their fingers together as they wait for the elevator.

“Do you still live in floor two thousand?” Hoseok asks as conversationally as he can, even if he’s so nervous he’s sweating. His hands are sweating, too. Why the fuck did he take Seokjin’s hand when he was sweating? Jesus Christ, he’s so stupid—

“Thirty-eight, but yes. I would’ve told you if I’d moved,” Seokjin says, and it’s actually relieving that he sounds just as nervous as Hoseok feels.

Good. It isn’t just him, then.

It’s awkward, but at the same time it isn’t. It’s just Jin, after all— one of Hoseok’s best friends in the entire world. They’ve known each other for ages and have had the craziest adventures together; what’s another one? And anyway, Hoseok doesn’t even know if what he thinks is going to happen will actually happen, so maybe it’s all just in his head.

The elevator ride feels eternal, and when they’re finally in front of Seokjin’s door, the seconds only stretch longer and longer. The jingling sound of Seokjin’s keys sounds extremely loud in the quiet hall— it’s almost making Hoseok go deaf, and watching Seokjin try over and over again to get the key in the keyhole is making him lose his mind.

“Jesus, hyung, you can’t even get the key in the keyhole and you want to fuck me?” Hoseok says, and he has no excuse for it other than he’s stupid, he’s nervous, (he’s horny), and he’s drunk.

As if on cue, he gets the key in the keyhole, but he stops moving for a moment and everything goes quiet for a couple of long, unbearable seconds. When he turns to look at Hoseok, his face is almost red under the bright white lights of the hall, his mouth open, and his eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights.

“I—” he starts, but he stops himself, as if unsure of what to say. He swallows thickly before trying again. “Hoseok, I—!”

“—hey, hey, hyung, relax, I was just kidding…!” Hoseok interrupts before Seokjin can say anything, shaking his hands in front of him to calm the older man down. He’s still sweating, and the way his voice seems to bounce off the bare walls of the hall is only making him even more nervous. “Sorry. It was a stupid joke. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Seokjin pauses, looking at Hoseok in the eyes for a moment and blinking twice, as if processing his words.

“Oh,” he says, softly, before looking away and back at the door, to push it open. “A joke. Yeah. I knew that.”

As soon as he steps inside, Seokjin takes off his shoes as fast as he can, kicking them off despite them being expensive dress shoes, and he quickly steps into his house slippers. Hoseok follows right after him, kicking off his own shoes off but not bothering with slippers as he follows Seokjin into his apartment.

“So, uh, I can offer you the couch if that’s okay. There’s blankets in the closet, and if you get cold you can—” Seokjin rambles, heading down the hall without even bothering to turn the lights on, and Hoseok— he’s not having any of this. Not after everything they talked about in the club. Not after all those lingering touches that maybe shouldn’t have turned him on as much as they did. Not after getting that stupid image of him fucking Seokjin engraved into his brain, followed by one of Seokjin fucking him. Not after hearing Seokjin say that he really wanted to fuck him.

If they had fucked up their friendship already, then they might as well do it with a bang.

“—Hyung, wait, hold up!” Hoseok calls, reaching for Seokjin’s arm and gripping it tightly to make him turn around towards him. Once Seokjin is facing him, Hoseok doesn’t let go of him. He takes a step closer to him, instead, only then becoming aware of how ragged their breaths sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. Hoseok’s heart is beating like crazy, thundering in his chest and echoing behind his ears, and when his eyes find Seokjin’s, he knows that he isn’t doing much better.

His eyes are dark, the tips of his ears several shades darker as well, and it’s not just because the lights of the apartment are off. Hoseok is probably in a similar state himself, but he can’t bring himself to care or to even think much about it. Right now, he only has eyes for Seokjin, which is undoubtedly the biggest plot-twist of his entire existence.

“Hyung,” Hoseok repeats, swallowing hard and licking his lips as his eyes travel over Seokjin’s face. His hand moves lower to take the older man’s in his, and he intertwines their fingers again. He takes one last breath before finally deciding to go for it. “Don’t kill me for this.”

And with that said, he surges forward, his free hand cupping the side of Seokjin’s face and pulling it down towards him.

He kisses Seokjin.

He actually kisses Seokjin on the fucking mouth because every cell in his body is telling him that he will combust if he doesn’t do it. He kisses Seokjin even if less than twelve hours ago he hadn’t even considered kissing another man at all.

He kisses Kim Seokjin, one of his (heterosexual) best friends, and against every odd, Kim Seokjin kisses him back from the get go.

The older man groans against Hoseok’s mouth the moment their lips touch, and he even steps closer in a way that makes their chests and their entire bodies press together. Seokjin was more than ready for it, and Hoseok can tell by the way his arms easily wound themselves around his waist like they’ve done all night, except this time it’s with his both hands splayed over Hoseok’s lower back, mere centimeters away from his ass.

Hoseok’s never kissed a guy up to this moment, but it feels amazing. At least Seokjin feels amazing— his lips are plush and soft, his mouth wet and demanding against his own. The feeling of his strong jaw moving under Hoseok’s hand is strangely sexy, as is the subtle feeling of stubble against his fingers. Seokjin’s chest is as flat as his own, and he’s taller than him, broader than him— everything is new, and it’s a lot to take in, but Hoseok’s brain is already drowning in the pleasure he’s getting out of everything.

He can’t help but sigh when Seokjin’s hands move lower, grabbing his ass through his pants, but then he squeezes at it and pulls him closer so that their lower halves are pressed together. It feels so unfamiliar, so solid, and so good, that Hoseok lets out a low moan against Seokjin’s mouth.

Fuck, hyung,” he curses, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s neck and burying his fingers in his hair. He tugs on it experimentally, and Seokjin groans in a mix of pain and pleasure. His voice is low and gruffy, nothing at all like a girl’s, but it’s riling Hoseok up like nothing he’s ever heard before.

They can’t stop kissing, even as Seokjin presses Hoseok against the closest wall and pins him hard against it. Never in a thousand years would Hoseok believe he’d end up making out with Seokjin against the wall. Never. And yet, there he is, clinging desperately at Seokjin’s hair and at Seokjin’s shoulders while their tongues slide together filthily, their hips bumping and grinding against each other’s in a way that sends jolts of electricity and pleasure through Hoseok’s nervous system. Seokjin’s lips are so thick and full that Hoseok can’t stop nibbling on them and sucking them into his mouth like they’re candy, all the while the elder’s hands roam his body. His large, rough, and manly hands.

It’s a lot.

When Seokjin pulls away to start pressing wet kisses down Hoseok’s neck, their hips end up pressing together, and the feeling sends a rush of pleasure through his body. He throws his head back against the wall, and he moans again— since when is he as responsive and sensitive? He doesn’t remember ever getting riled up this easily.

“This is okay with you, right?” Seokjin asks roughly against Hoseok’s neck, and Hoseok can’t help but laugh breathlessly, his fingers tangling and pulling on Seokjin’s hair, bringing him closer.

“What do you think?” he gasps out, arching his back off the wall to chase the feeling of Seokjin’s body against his. Seokjin laughs, but the sound comes out choked and breathy when Hoseok grinds against him.

“So… Bed?” the older man asks, pulling backwards to look at Hoseok with a raised eyebrow. His lips are parted, swollen, and glistening with spit, his hair completely messed up, and his chest rising and falling quickly as he struggles to catch his breath. It’s amazing to know that Hoseok is responsible for all of that (Even if he would rather not dwell too much on the implications of it).

He nods, looking straight into Seokjin’s eyes. “Fuck yes.”

If anyone had told Hoseok that morning that he would end up in Seokjin’s bed by the end of the night, kissing and undressing each other with desperation, he would’ve laughed at first, but he would’ve never believed it. However, that’s exactly where he is right now, sitting on the older man’s bed, his legs spread to make room for Seokjin to kneel between them while they kiss hard. Seokjin pulls his shirt off almost roughly, and as Hoseok struggles to undo the buttons of the older man’s shirt, he ends up getting pushed back against the mattress.

Once Seokjin is shirtless, Hoseok can’t help but run his hands over his broad chest and shoulders. His mind is fuzzy, but he’s not sure that it’s the alcohol’s fault anymore.

“This is so weird,” he says, loving the feeling of Seokjin’s firm body and the way he’s towering above him . This is by far the most surprising turn of events of his life: touching Seokjin and liking it. He runs his hands down Seokjin’s chest, grazing his nipples with his fingernails as he does so.

“Good weird?” Seokjin asks, shivering under Hoseok’s hands as he accommodates on top of him, and shit, is that his dick pressing up against Hoseok’s through the fabric of their pants? Why does Hoseok want to feel more of it? He’s getting so hard that his tight pants are almost starting to hurt. Seokjin’s supporting his weight with one hand (and please don’t get Hoseok started on the way his muscles look as he holds his body on top of him), but he runs the other one all the way up from Hoseok’s abdomen, touching over his chest, and up to his face, where he settles it firmly just beneath his jaw.

“Definitely good weird,” Hoseok replies, and he’s only slightly taken back by how confidently he says it. He teases one of Seokjin’s nipples with his fingers once more to see his reaction, and when the older man groans, he gets an unbearable urge to bring his fingers to his mouth, lick them until they’re coated in spit, and then rub against Seokjin’s nipple again, this time way more intently. Seokjin pretty much moans, and the sound is low and gruffy and turning Hoseok on a lot more than it should. “Fuck, you like that, hyung?”

Seokjin nods, his eyelids shutting at the feeling, and Hoseok curses again under his breath.

“You’re more sensitive there than many girls I’ve been with, what the fuck, that’s so hot,” he comments, and Seokjin actually laughs at that even if it’s breathless and kinda choked up.

“Where are you sensitive, though?” the older man asks, his thumb rubbing circles against Hoseok’s cheek while his hips move subtly against his own. The feeling is setting his insides on fire, if he’s honest, and Seokjin’s next words have an actual groan leaving his mouth. “I wanna touch you there.”

It’s really too much.

“Other than my dick? Not many places that I know of, actually. But I gotta tell you, you’re doing wonders so far,” Hoseok admits, and Seokjin laughs again. It’s the same laugh he’s been hearing for years, energic and honest, but this time it has a low, sexy tone to it. It feels even sexier and more intimate considering that their mouths are only a few centimeters away, and that they’ve spent almost (or maybe even more than) an entire hour kissing the living daylights out of each other.

“Thank you, I’m just going with what my instincts tell me. You aren’t bad at all, either,” Seokjin says, letting his eyes wander down Hoseok’s face and down his body for a brief moment. When he looks back up at his and their gazes connect again, he smirks. He lets go of Hoseok’s jaw and he runs his hand down his body all the way until it’s hovering right over his dick. He’s exerting pressure, palming him through his tight pants and his underwear, and the feeling is amazing, if only not quite enough. Hoseok’s breath hitches and his hips lift off the bed slightly to get more of Seokjin’s touch, which makes the older man’s smirk grow. “I’ve never touched a dick before, you know.”

Fuck— Aside from your own, you mean?” Hoseok says, jokingly, attempting a sly grin even if Seokjin’s hand feels really good against him and it’s distracting him.

“Don’t be a smartass,” the older man tuts, sternly, just as he undoes the button of his pants. He sits up between Hoseok’s legs, then, pushing them further apart to make more room for himself before he starts pulling Hoseok’s zipper down. “Not gonna lie, this is both exciting and scary.”

Hoseok’s breath is coming out raggedly, and his brain is nearly short-circuiting merely at the sight of Seokjin pulling his pants down a little bit, just so that they aren’t constraining him anymore. It’s relieving, for a moment, but before Hoseok can get used to it, Seokjin’s hand is cupping his erection again, fingers curling up around it through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs as best as they can.

“Hyung, what—” Hoseok gasps, his hips involuntarily bucking upwards against Seokjin’s hand. “Shit, you’re only teasing now. Come on, cut it out— if you’re gonna touch me, just touch me, alright? Don’t torture me.”

“I told you this is scary, Hoseok, give me some time to get familiarized! I can’t just go and suck your dick like I’ve been doing it for years, let me get used to it at first!”

Hoseok’s eyes widen at Seokjin’s words and he feels as if the air has gotten punched out of his lungs, but he sits up on the bed, supporting his body with his elbows to look down at Seokjin.

“You’re gonna— You wanna suck me off?”

Seokjin shrugs with those broad shoulders of his while his hand moves against his dick, fingers and palm tracing it through his underwear. “I like giving oral, and I’m good at it. I mean, I’ve never given a blowjob before, but how different can it be? I figured I might as well try, since we’re already here… Unless you don’t want it?”

His voice sounds almost earnest when he says that, and he even stops stroking Hoseok’s dick until the younger tells him that, “oh, no, please— I-I’d love it. I think. It sounds good, yeah.”

After that, Seokjin doesn’t waste much time.

He gives a few encouraging words to himself before he finally pulls Hoseok’s pants down the rest of the way, followed by his boxers. It’s a little embarrassing for Hoseok, but he doesn’t have much time to feel self-conscious or insecure about being completely naked and rock-hard in front of (and underneath) one of his best friends, because said friend’s lips are around his cock before he can think too much.

He curses, and his hands fly to Seokjin’s hair as he takes him into his mouth.

Now, Hoseok has received plenty of blowjobs throughout his life, but this feels like a first all over again.

Seokjin is clearly inexperienced, but what he doesn’t have in technique he makes up in enthusiasm. If Hoseok closes his eyes, there’s not much difference to when it’s a girl doing it— there’s the same hot and tight feeling, the same slide of lips against sensitive flesh, the same maddening feeling of a wet tongue curling around him. Except for the feeling of Seokjin’s large hands wrapped around the base of his cock and holding his hips down to the mattress, it’s pretty much the same.

However, Hoseok doesn’t want to close his eyes.

He keeps himself upright, holding himself up with his elbows so that he can watch how his cock disappears between Seokjin’s lips, how his cheeks hollow around it, and how he looks up to meet his eyes. It’s not heterosexual at all, none of this is, but Hoseok can’t bring himself to care because it feels really fucking good. Seokjin doesn’t take him in that deeply, but that’s alright— the feeling of his hand stroking him around the base more than compensates. Hoseok has no idea how much time passes until his whole body is shaking, the heat at the pit of his stomach threatening to burst every time that Seokjin’s tongue circles around the tip of his dick. He’s really, really close—

“Hyung,” he says, not without difficulty, his fingers tightening around Seokjin’s hair and his eyes hypnotized by how unexpectedly hot Seokjin looks with his thick lips around his cock. “Hyung, I’m gonna—”

Seokjin seems to understand just in time, because he hums lowly before pulling his mouth away. He finishes Hoseok off with his hand, stroking hard and fast while looking up into his eyes, and it’s too much. Seokjin’s lips, parted and swollen and wet with spit and precum; Seokjin’s eyes, a mix of lust and want but also of curiosity; Seokjin’s hand, slightly rougher and a lot bigger to what he’s used to. It’s a lot, and Hoseok comes, tugging on Seokjin’s hair and bucking his hips upwards, and Seokjin— Seokjin leans closer again so that Hoseok’s cum lands over his parted lips, his lush and beautiful and wrecked lips.

“What the fuck, hyung,” Hoseok says, eloquently, once his orgasm has subdued. His hair is sticking to his forehead, he’s breathing hard, and the weight of pleasure finally has him falling back on the mattress. His eyes close as he tries to catch his breath, but he can hear the soft sound of Seokjin’s laughter and the way he gets up from the bed and moves around the room, followed by the tell-tale sound of facial tissues getting pulled from a box. When Hoseok turns his head to look at him he sees him cleaning the cum off his lips, and wow.

He’s not drunk anymore, and he just came so he’s not really horny anymore, but Seokjin looks almost ethereal standing there. He’s shirtless, his upper body bathed in the soft blue light that comes in through the open window, his hard dick straining against the front of his office slacks, and a stain of cum that he hasn’t cleaned yet glistening between the top of his upper lip and his nose.

“Okay, good news: sucking dick isn’t bad at all,” Seokjin says once his face is clean, and Hoseok can’t help but snort at his words.

“I can’t believe this was your dick sucking debut— what the hell, hyung? It’s like you were born for this,” Hoseok says. Seokjin snickers as he makes his way back to the bed, and before Hoseok is aware of it, he reaches out for Seokjin and pulls him down on the bed with him so that he’s lying down next to him.

“I told you I was good with my mouth,” he says, jokingly, though it isn’t really a joke.

Hoseok’s not (that) drunk anymore, and he’s not (that) horny anymore, but he still kisses Seokjin once he’s settled beside him. He has no excuse for it other than it felt like the right thing to do. He cups the older man’s cheek with his hand to keep his face close, and Seokjin hums lowly as he nibbles on Hoseok’s lower lip and licks into his mouth. The kiss is slower than their previous one, but it’s no less heated— it hasn’t slipped Hoseok’s mind that Seokjin has yet to come, and it almost makes him shiver to think he’ll be the one to bring him to the edge. None of this is “straight” or “no homo” anymore, but Hoseok is enjoying himself too much to care.

He slips his leg between Seokjin’s to press his thigh against his clothed dick, and when Seokjin moans lowly into the kiss it only beckons Hoseok to push further. He’s so into it— into the feeling of Seokjin’s bulge pressing against his bare thigh, into the slide of their tongues, into the way Seokjin’s hands are clinging to his hair and the way Seokjin’s body feels under his hands. He runs his hands over his skin, but he focuses on his nipples, remembering that he liked being touched there.

He teases until Seokjin pinches his side almost painfully.

“Jung Hoseok,” the older man says, a warning edge on his otherwise breathless voice, and when Hoseok pulls back he receives a threatening glare.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hoseok apologizes, offering Seokjin a smile. “I’ll get to it now.”

A few seconds later, he’s pushing Seokjin back against the mattress and latching his mouth to the older man’s neck as his hands fumble with his belt, his button, and his zipper. He pulls Seokjin’s pants down to his midthighs along with his underwear, and his heart is beating loud and fast in his chest as a thrilling mixture of anticipation and dread floods his brain.

He’s really about to jerk his friend off after getting his dick sucked by him, and what’s more, he’s enjoying the hell out of everything. It feels like years ago when he said that he might consider kissing a guy for science, or when he heard Seokjin say that he might do it as well, but only if he was either very drunk or very into the guy, but it was only a few hours ago.

(A small part of Hoseok wants to believe it’s the latter because he, for one, isn’t that drunk.)

The sound that escapes Seokjin’s lips when he wraps his hand around his cock is unreal. It’s somewhere between a choked moan and a grunt, and it fuels him like nothing he’s ever heard before. It’s admittedly strange to touch another person’s dick (especially Kim Seokjin’s, of all people), but it’s not bad— it’s bigger than his own, thicker than his own, and it curves differently, and Hoseok can’t deny he’s having a little too much fun with it. Seokjin is so responsive to his touches, and he keeps on bucking his hips to thrust into his hand. Hoseok can’t help but think about what Seokjin said about wanting to fuck him, and a fraction of his mind hopes that they do get to do that, eventually.

It isn’t until Hoseok gets the brilliant idea of kissing down from Seokjin’s neck and rubbing the tip of his tongue against Seokjin’s nipple that the older man lets out an actual, honest-to-god moan.

Shit, do that again,” he says, his crooked fingers tangling on the sweaty hair at Hoseok’s nape and pulling him closer against his chest. Hoseok would’ve laughed at Seokjin’s insistence under different circumstances, but as it is he can’t help but comply. He licks and sucks on Seokjin’s nipple while he works him with his hand, flicking his wrist as best as he can even if it’s kind of difficult from the angle he’s at. He doesn’t care if his arm is starting to hurt, Seokjin’s sounds of pleasure are music to his ears, and he finds himself doubling his efforts, stroking him faster and faster while he licks and sucks his nipple into his mouth.

All of a sudden, Seokjin is pushing his mouth away from his chest by pulling on his hair, and before Hoseok can ask what’s going on, Seokjin is crashing their mouths together into a lip-searing kiss.

Seokjin curses, his thrusts become more erratic against Hoseok’s hand, and a few seconds after, he’s coming; jaw slacked, eyes closed, and a quiet groan spilling into Hoseok’s mouth, and fuck, it’s hot. Until that day, Hoseok could confidently say he had never once thought about Seokjin’s orgasm face, but now he doubts he’ll ever be able to get it out of his head. Part of his cum lands on Hoseok’s stomach, and that’s strangely hot as well; it makes him remember how Seokjin let him come on his fucking lips, of all places, and how erotic the sight of it was.; it makes him think about whether Seokjin would like if he did that, next time, maybe, if there ever was a next time.

It takes Seokjin a while, but when he’s more or less recovered, it’s him who chases Hoseok’s lips and presses a kiss to them. It’s brief and intense, but also lazy— it lacks all the pent-up tension from before. It’s a nice way to cool down, though, even if Hoseok doesn’t really know where to put his cum-covered hand without dirtying Seokjin or his bed sheets.

“That was, uhm… Interesting,” Seokjin says once they pull away.

Hoseok hums thoughtfully, noticing the slight smile on Seokjin’s face and smiling right back.

“Yeah. Interesting. It was fun, for sure,” he comments, before finally (reluctantly) sitting up on the bed, feeling a blush climbing high on his cheeks. “Do you have, uh… Tissues? My hand…”

“Oh, yeah— on the dresser,” Seokjin says, chuckling softly to himself. “Could you hand me a few, please?”

“Sure,” before standing up, Hoseok puts on his underwear, trying not to think about how stupid it is that he feels embarrassed now after Seokjin literally had his dick in his mouth; trying not to think about how odd it is that he wants it to happen again.

When Seokjin offers him to stay, Hoseok is in no position to refuse. After the high of alcohol and lust are gone, he becomes aware of how exhausted he actually is, and getting under the covers of Seokjin’s bed with Seokjin beside him is the easiest thing in the world. It’s still weird, though— Seokjin’s leg is firm and hairy against his own, his feet are big, and he and his bed smell like a pleasant brand of aftershave. It’s a lot to wrap his head around, but the last thing Hoseok wants to do right now is think.

He’ll just allow himself to enjoy it for now, he decides, turning around to face Seokjin and inching closer to him on the bed.

The older man’s eyes are closed and he’s lying down, stiff like a fucking plank— a clear sign that he’s most likely overthinking—, so Hoseok pats him on the shoulder, impatiently. Seokjin frowns in confusion, opening his eyes blearily and looking up at Hoseok questioningly.


“Turn around. I wanna cuddle, and you’re gonna be the little spoon,” the younger demands as firmly as he can, and for the few seconds that Seokjin doesn’t reply he gets a sinking feeling. Perhaps cuddling is too much? Perhaps he crossed a line he shouldn’t have?

But then Seokjin smiles and he shakes his head in amusement, and relief washes over Hoseok’s body. The older man turns around so that his back is facing Hoseok.

His broad, broad back, and the stupid loose tank top he put on to bed that accentuates his shoulders and his arms.

It’s awful. Hoseok moves closer so that his slimmer chest is right against Seokjin’s back, and he puts his arm around him. He’s smaller than Seokjin, and right now, spooning him from behind and hugging him like a koala, it’s clearer than ever. But it’s nice, regardless. Their (hairy) legs tangle under the blankets, and it’s nice. Seokjin settles back against his chest, humming in contentment, and it’s really nice. Hoseok buries his nose against the back of Seokjin’s hair and breathes in his shampoo and his cologne, and it’s the nicest.

“Hey, Seokseok-ah,” Seokjin says, suddenly, his voice soft and sleepy. Hoseok was close to falling asleep himself, so he only hums questioningly in response. “If you stick around tomorrow morning, we can try and figure out how gay sex works. You know… Since we’re already here we might as well, right? No pressure, though.”

Hoseok nearly chokes on his own spit.

“I, uh,” he stammers, his voice muffled by Seokjin’s silky black hair. “Alright. I mean, if it’s for science...”

Seokjin chuckles. “Yeah. For science.”

Chapter Text

Hoseok’s not new to one-night stands.

He’s not exactly an expert on the field either, and they are far from his favorite kind of intimacy, but he’s had his fair share of nights spent in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Most of them happened during his first two years of college, and then after he had gotten his degree and broken up with Minah, his girlfriend for almost three years.

The number isn’t fabulously high, but he knows the deal; he knows about the etiquette of one-night stands. He knows he’s supposed to wake up and get out of the girl’s house (or, more often than not, the motel room) before she wakes up. He knows that one-night stands aren’t about getting to know another person; they aren’t about long and interesting conversations over a cup of coffee and scrambled eggs in the morning; they aren’t about exchanging numbers and seeing each other again because they wouldn’t be one-night stands if he allowed for that to happen. The only thing there is to one-night stands is sex, and, often times, also alcohol.

When Hoseok wakes up, he’s disoriented, lost, and confused.

He knows he had sex the previous night because his body is still all tingly with the lingering effects of a very satisfying orgasm. He knows the bed he’s currently lying on is not his own because this mattress is softer than his, the pillows are fluffier, and everything smells different and unfamiliar. He knows he had a lot to drink because his head is pounding, his mouth is dry, and he would kill for an aspirin.

It feels a lot like the morning after a one-night stand.

However, it’s when he cracks an eye open and the light filtering into the room through the slightly open curtains hits his face that he starts to remember, different episodes and images of the night before appearing in front of his eyes one by one like a slideshow.

He remembers the gay club, dancing with his friends first, but then joining Seokjin at the bar when everybody else disappeared. He remembers getting hit on by random dudes while his older friend and he tried to hold a conversation while drinking mojitos. He remembers Seokjin’s arms wrapping around him, at some point, and he remembers leaning his head against his chest in order to get their predators off their case. Things start getting fuzzy when he reaches his third mojito. There’s a blur of images, noises, and sensations swirling in his mind— Seokjin’s hands touching his butt in the club, Seokjin’s laughter ringing pleasantly in his ear pretty much constantly, and then, hitting him like a freight train all over again, Seokjin’s voice in his ear telling him that he’d like to fuck him.

He remembers sitting on Yoongi’s car and feeling Seokjin’s leg up, but it’s all very vague. It’s all very vague, until he remembers kissing Seokjin. Seokjin pushing him against the wall. Falling into bed with Seokjin while they undressed each other. Seokjin taking his cock in his mouth. Seokjin’s cock in his hand.



He had sex with Seokjin.

The Kim Seokjin; his best friend of seven years, and the only straight person in their group of friends other than himself. Okay, sure, it wasn’t actual, penetrative sex, but his cock was in Seokjin’s mouth, and Seokjin’s cock was in his hand. Seokjin let him finish on his lips, and he made Seokjin come after jerking him off and playing with his nipples. And then, when they were about to fall asleep (spooning, for fuck’s sake), he said Hoseok could stick around, if he wanted, to see what actual gay, penetrative sex was about, and Hoseok— he said yes, for some reason he can’t even remember anymore.

Hoseok takes the deepest breath his lungs are capable of taking before he turns his head to the side, and the movement is so fast that it makes the joints of his neck crack audibly. He was looking for Seokjin, but he doesn’t find the older man there. All there is, is a nicely decorated bedroom (’Seokjin’s nicely decorated bedroom’, his brain supplies, ’because you slept together’) bathed in soft sunlight, and what feels like miles of dark blue bedsheets stretched out in front of him.

Hoseok’s heart is racing with nervousness, (regret?), and something that feels a lot like fear, but at the same time, upon finding that Seokjin isn’t there, a small wave of relief washes over him.

The rules of one-night stands say he has to get out of the girl’s place as soon as he can, but Seokjin isn’t a girl, and he is already awake if his absence is anything to go by, but Hoseok thinks he might still use this chance to flee because there is no way he’s staying in Seokjin’s apartment after what happened the night before. There’s a lot to think about, but there’s even more Hoseok doesn’t want to ever think about again, like Seokjin’s lips covered in his cum, or the way Seokjin’s face contorted in pleasure when he came, and he simply can’t be in Seokjin’s bed for another second without losing his mind.

He kicks the bedsheets away (’which smell like Seokjin’, a voice insists in the back of his head, ‘because you slept together’) and he gets up as fast as he can. He ignores what is starting to feel like a powerful migraine with all his might as he looks around for the clothes he wore the night before and changes out of the shorts that, apparently, Seokjin let him borrow the night before. Images of last night keep assaulting him as he shimmies into the tight black pants he wore to the club, more and more vivid every time, and if his stupid dick dares to get hard at the memory of them, he swears to god he’ll jump out the window and into the abyss.

When he’s finally all dressed up in his clubbing clothes again, feeling like the dictionary definition of the words trash and disaster, he goes for the door, but of course—

Of course the universe wouldn’t let him get easily out of this.

The moment he opens the door, he sees Seokjin there, looking like he was about to open the door himself.

There is a surprised expression on his face, but that isn’t exactly what calls Hoseok’s attention. The older man is wearing a loose, sleeveless shirt (nothing Hoseok hasn’t seen him wear before), and under normal circumstances it wouldn’t mean anything to see so many miles of (exposed, golden) skin, but these aren’t normal circumstances, and also Seokjin’s skin doesn’t look like it normally does because right there, on the side of his neck, there is a hickey. A medium-sized, odd-shaped, purple hickey, and under it, on the crook of the older man’s neck, there is another one, larger though lighter in color. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sight of them, the deep purple hues catching his eyes instantly. Something twists inside of him, something hot and completely unwelcome, but then his eyes move a little lower and they spot a third mark, because apparently, he is more of a leech than a human being, and he couldn’t leave Seokjin’s skin alone the night before.

The third hickey, though, is barely peeking over the white fabric of Seokjin’s tank top, but it’s on his fucking pectoral, casually reminding Hoseok that Seokjin’s nipples are pretty much as sensitive as a woman’s clit.

“Good morning?” Seokjin greets him, and his voice hits Hoseok like a wrecking ball and brings him back to reality. He blinks once or twice before he looks up at Seokjin’s face again. When he does, he notices the elder’s eyes are scanning him, too, just like he was examining him before. Shit— what if he also has a hickey on his neck?

“Uh, hey,” Hoseok replies, awkwardly, attempting a smile even if he knows it will probably look super fake and uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Seokjin repeats. “What a coincidence. I was just coming to check if you were alive and ask you if you wanted breakfast.”

Hoseok nearly chokes at that, and he doesn’t know how he should feel. There’s a combination of endearment and panic swirling somewhere inside his chest with the strength of a hurricane, and he doesn’t know which emotion is worse. On top of everything, there’s his terrible hangover to deal with, which is only making things shittier.

“Breakfast? Wow, for real?” he asks, stupidly, because he knows Seokjin is for real. Making breakfast after a hook-up seems like a very Seokjin thing to do. He can smell it now that he’s out of the room; the pleasant and slightly sour scent of a particular kind of broth.

“Yeah,” Seokjin confirms, nodding his head and smiling, but just like Hoseok’s own smile, it seems forced and tight. “I made haejang-guk to kill our hangovers. We drank a lot last night, so I figured it’d be the best thing to start off today, but… You’re leaving already?”

“I—” Hoseok starts, licking his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I was gonna leave. I feel like shit. My head and my stomach are killing me. I don’t want to bother you, you know? But thank you.”

Seokjin, surprisingly, rolls his eyes. It’s a subtle gesture, but Hoseok picks it up right away.

(He’s been around Seokjin long enough to immediately pick up on the small tell-tales that give away when something ticks him off).

“Right,” he says somewhat condescendingly. Hoseok can’t help but notice he’s being suspiciously quiet about what happened between them the night before. He knows for a fact that Seokjin remembers what happened, because if Hoseok the Lightweight can remember and he had more than a couple of mojitos and tequila shots in his system, then there’s no way that Seokjin, who can down about four soju bottles in one sitting without breaking a sweat, doesn’t remember.

(But then again, he himself hasn’t spoken a peep about last night, and he has no intention to. Is that the way it’s going to be? The two of them pretending they didn’t get down and dirty with each other so they can go on with their normal, heterosexual lives? Hoseok sure hopes so.)

“You’re not even going to eat? Are you sure?” Seokjin insists a few moments later, as Hoseok puts his shoes on at the entrance of his apartment. He’s glad he has a valid excuse not to look at Seokjin and at the purple marks on his neck and chest that have, figuratively speaking, his name on them.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I really don’t feel good, and I don’t think I could eat anything right now, hyung. But maybe some other time?” Hoseok says which, okay, which is pretty stupid of him. ’Some other time? For fuck’s sake, Hoseok, pull your shit together and get out of here before you lose your mind.’.

When he’s finally done with his shoes and he stands up, he still can’t bring himself to look at Seokjin. Not for more than a few fractions of seconds, anyway.

“Some other time. Ha. Well, okay, suit yourself,” the older man says, shrugging.

And that’s that.

Hoseok turns around and opens the door to leave, but the strange and heavy hurricane of emotions in his chest grows bigger and beckons him to look back at Seokjin. However, when he does, the older man isn’t there anymore, and the sound of cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen confirms it. Hoseok wasn’t lying when he said he felt bad and that he didn’t want to be a bother, but for some reason, he’s feeling even worse now, as he exits Seokjin’s apartment and closes the door behind himself, than when he woke up in Seokjin’s bed.

Now, Hoseok isn’t new to one-night stands and he knows the basic rules to them, but as he walks towards the elevators, a tiny nagging voice in the back of his head scolds him. Last night wasn’t a one-night stand. Sure, there was sex, alcohol, and bad decisions, but Seokjin isn’t just any other girl he met at a club. Seokjin is one of his best friends and a guy, and Hoseok doesn’t know what the rules are for dealing with the regret of accidentally sleeping with one of your bros, so for now, the basic one-night stand rules will have to suffice.



As it was to be expected, one-night stand rules don’t suffice.

They don’t even apply, to begin with, so perhaps that’s the problem.

Ever since Hoseok fled Seokjin’s apartment the morning after their, uh, adventure, so to say, he hasn’t stopped thinking about him. On the bus on his way home, in the shower, looking at himself in the mirror and finding two hickeys on his neck that regretfully have him shivering— the knowledge that he slept with Seokjin doesn’t let him live in peace. Hoseok thought things would get better when Monday came and he had to go back to work, but even then he can’t stop the images of Seokjin’s lips wrapped around his dick, or Seokjin’s orgasm face, or Seokjin’s lips covered in cum, from popping randomly in his brain.

Which is completely ludicrous.

It’s not like Hoseok has never had his dick sucked before, and it’s not like he ever thought of Seokjin as anything other than his bro— his heterosexual bro. Also, the blowjob he gave him wasn’t even among the top five best blowjobs he’s ever received (though it was definitely on the top ten), so why this?

Why can’t he stop going into their Kakao conversation for no reason at all? Why does he feel nervous about the older man participating regularly in their friends group chat but never once talking to him directly? Why is he constantly on the verge of talking to him; of sending him a simple ‘hey, bro, what’s up?’ but never being able to do it?

It’s stupid, ridiculous, and it doesn’t make any sense.

On Thursday night, almost one whole week after it all happened (and they stopped talking to each other), Hoseok decides that he won’t let this go on like this.

They slept together? So what! It doesn’t have to mean anything. Neither of them is into guys to begin with, so why can’t they just agree that they were both drunk and stupid and made a mistake? They got seven years of friendship under their belts, and sure, now Hoseok knows what Seokjin’s got under his belt literally, but he won’t allow for all their years as friends to go to hell just because of one night. And maybe the first step to that is apologizing for being a jerk and fleeing after Seokjin offered him breakfast.

Seokjin wasn’t being weird about it all.

It was Hoseok who singlehandedly made things weird by leaving. Maybe he should have stayed at Seokjin’s place, eaten his haejang-guk, and played dumb instead of running away; maybe by fleeing he had acknowledged that something between them had changed just because they had done a few sexy things while intoxicated, which, he hoped, wasn’t so. Hopefully, apologizing for being rude and making it clear that he didn’t think things between them had to be any different now that they had made each other cum would help make things better.

It’s late in the evening when Hoseok texts Seokjin, sitting on the tiny couch of his tiny apartment, fresh out of the shower, and with a steaming bowl of instant udon in front of him. He’s nervous, and he has to take a deep breath as he taps on his phone screen in order to calm down his heartbeat rate (’what the fuck is wrong with you? It’s just Seokjin, for fuck’s sake’), but he’d rather eat his favorite pair of shoes than admit any of that out loud.


Hobi: (sent at 10:12 PM)
hi hyung~

Hobi: (sent at 10:12 PM)
Listen… I know it’s been a while since we talked, and that the last time we saw each other things were kinda… weird, you know. we did things and it was kinda overwhelming when i just woke up.

Hobi: (sent at 10:12 PM)
but anyway, all of that aside (because i’m pretty sure we both agree that it was a dumb mistake) i wanted to tell you i’m sorry if i was mean to you and left just like that, and that i would hate it if we stopped being friends because of something like that…

Hobi: (sent at 10:13 PM)
tbh I just wanted to be at home alone and sleep my headache off, and i was hangover as fuck, so i wasn’t thinking properly. you worked hard to make breakfast and I just left, which was pretty rude of me? idk. Just. Yeah.


The little yellow number ones next to his texts disappears soon after he sent them, which is relieving, in a way. He knows he isn’t making much sense with his words, but this entire situation is so freaky to begin with, that he guesses it makes sense that he isn’t able to be more eloquent.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:14 PM)
‘we did things’

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:14 PM)

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:14 PM)
i’m laughing, what are you, 12?


Hoseok frowns, but he can’t help but laugh and roll his eyes. Seokjin is already laughing about it and making jokes, and Hoseok sighs in relief. Things would be okay.


Hobi: (sent at 10:14 PM)
Hyung come on, you know what I mean


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:14 PM)
Yeah I do, but it’s funny that you don’t dare to say it ㅋㅋㅋ


Hobi: (sent at 10:15 PM)
what, that we slept together?


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:15 PM)
oooh there it is, now you sound all grown-up ^^


Hobi: (sent at 10:15 PM)


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:17 PM)
No, but seriously speaking… it’s alright. It’s understandable that you left, even if it was pretty rude of you to just leave after I made all that soup. Maybe I overreacted by not talking to you this week, but I guess my excuse is the same as yours? on top of you being rude, what happened that night was a lot to take in. so, yeah. Whatever. it’s okay. i don’t blame you.


Hobi: (sent at 10:18 PM)
good. i don’t blame you either


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:18 PM)

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:18 PM)


Hobi: (sent at 10:19 PM)
so, we’re good, right? bros??


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:19 PM)
of course!

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:19 PM)
you aren’t getting rid of me just because i sucked your skinny penis once ㅋㅋㅋ


Hoseok nearly chokes on his udon at that, but he can’t help but laugh. Yes, this is good; this is great. Joking about it makes it feel less important, less serious. Less potentially life-changing.


Hobi: (sent at 10:20 PM)
and you aren’t getting rid of me just because i found out about your hypersensitive nipples~~


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:20 PM)
hmm you can make fun of me all you want, but I know you had as much fun with them as I did, if not more ;)


Hobi: (sent at 10:20 PM)
you keep telling yourself that, hyung…


That night, when Hoseok goes to bed, he’s finally a little more at peace. He still gets haunted by occasional flashes and memories of their night together (which Hoseok blames on Seokjin’s texts entirely), but at least he doesn’t fear anymore that his friendship with Seokjin died because of it. If they can joke about it, they’ll be fine.



Except, they won’t be fine.

On Friday evening, Hoseok met with his friends – with the ones who could make it, at least; this time, it was just him, Namjoon, Jimin, and, of course, Seokjin.

The previous Friday night had been the first time in months since all seven of them could get together, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hang out every now and then even if not everyone in their group could make it.

Usually, Hoseok could go to most of their get-togethers. He works two jobs; a terribly boring nine-to-five one at a telecommunications company’s call center, and another one which he adores at a hip-hop dance academy, three times a week, from six to nine. At times it can be tiring, but more often than not, dancing serves him as an outlet for stress and exhaustion, and he’s never had to work on Friday night, which is always good.

Seokjin, too, is able to go most of the time. He works at a company that sells medical equipment to hospitals, and honestly, it sounds boring to everyone on the planet except for himself. His position isn’t very high yet, but they often joke around saying that it’s just a matter of time before the CEO adopts Seokjin as his son just so that he can inherit the entire company. If you ask Hoseok, he’ll say that the only good thing about Seokjin’s job (aside from the fact that he actually enjoys it and that it blesses him with a permanently thick wallet), is that it finishes early enough so that they can hang out more or less often. Actually, if Seokjin can’t make it to their get-togethers it’s not because he’s stuck at work, but rather because he’s drinking with his co-workers and bosses.

Despite having made up with Seokjin the night before, half of Hoseok’s mind wished that Seokjin wouldn’t be able to go. He secretly hoped that Seokjin was meeting his colleagues after work at a very up-scale bar in a very up-scale neighborhood, so he wouldn’t be able to make it to the tiny bar in Hongdae they’ve all hung out in since their college years.

But nope; no such luck. As soon as Jimin asked if somebody was up for drinks at 8 pm in their usual place, Seokjin was the first to reply with a very energetic ’meeeee!!! :D’.

On hindsight, Hoseok himself could’ve said he wouldn’t be able to go. He could’ve taken a step back and come up with a bullshit excuse, like how tired he was, or how much he wanted to catch up with this one show on Netflix. However, he knew that nobody would believe it, and while he could care less if the others knew he was bullshitting them, what worried him was that Seokjin might see right through him and think he was running away and making things weird again.

It was a trap. In the end, he agreed to go, and as much as he feared that Jimin or Namjoon would realize that they had slept together just by looking at their faces, it seemed they were completely clueless about it. It was good that the only physical proofs of their night together (i.e., the hickeys on both of their necks) had completely disappeared, so now there was nothing except for Hoseok’s secretly tormented conscience (manifested in nervous leg-bouncing and finger-tapping) as evidence.

The night didn’t go bad, exactly; especially not at first. The moment Seokjin arrived in the bar and sat down across from Hoseok on the table, Hoseok didn’t feel like fleeing, which was a good sign. He simply smiled and waved at the other man, and they greeted each other so normally, that Hoseok almost didn’t think about how the shirt that he was wearing now was the same that he had peeled off his body exactly one week ago.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

They drank soju, they talked about their weeks, they gossiped, and perhaps the most interesting and fun thing that happened was when they bombarded Jimin with questions about what happened with Taehyung and Jungkook the previous Friday night (spoiler: they fucked, and if Hoseok and Seokjin’s eyes met over the table for a split second when Jimin mentioned something about a blowjob, they both did a good job pretending not to notice).

It’s only when Hoseok reaches the half of his second bottle of soju that things start getting strange.

He’s not drunk. Maybe a little bit tipsy because his body absorbs alcohol like a damn sponge and the liquor always hits him all at once, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He can definitely walk in a straight line, keep his thoughts organized enough to speak coherently, and he could probably even solve a medium-level sudoku. He’s just… Laughing more. His face is getting a little heated up, too, so he has to constantly put his hands, somewhat cool from holding the bottle of soju, on his cheeks. He’s a little more careless and a little more reckless, and the filter his consciousness has over his thoughts is starting to betray him by siding up with his instincts.

He’s looking at Seokjin more.

It’s… Inevitable, really.

The man is sitting right in front of Hoseok, after all, and he’s talking a lot, so it’s not like he can just look away and pretend he’s not there for the entire evening, can he? They’re friends, and Hoseok’s going to act like it whatever it takes. Even if he’s been getting random flashes of Seokjin sucking his cock and with his lips covered in cum almost every night for the past week; even if a dangerously curious part of himself remains unsatisfied, because it was promised that it would get to know what gay sex was all about, only to be robbed of the possibility to experiment in the name of science; even if the first thing he did in the morning for about four days was examine the hickeys that Seokjin left on his neck because, fuck, they were hot. Being with Seokjin had been hot; jerking Seokjin off and teasing his nipples had been hot as fuck.

Everything about sex with Seokjin had been hot, and good, and fun, but it’s terrible because he isn’t even into men. He’s never ever fantasized about another man sucking his dick (and considering that five out of his six best friends are openly not-straight, he’s had countless of chances to consider the ‘what ifs’), but then Seokjin went and sucked his dick, and now it’s like Hoseok can’t think about anything else.

Not even as Seokjin sits in front of him, talking about something funny that happened with the coffee machine in his office. Hoseok is only following the story with half a mind, or maybe even with less than that, because most of it is lost, entertaining unwelcomed yet tempting thoughts. He can’t help but notice the way Seokjin’s sleeves hug his arms just right, hinting at the faint muscles that Hoseok knows now are beneath. Or the way he licks his lips occasionally, the glossiness of his spit making them appear even fuller than they already are, and why the fuck can’t Hoseok stop thinking about the way they felt against his own lips a week ago? Why can’t Hoseok stop imagining what it’d be like to kiss them again, just a little bit, to get a taste of the soju the older man has been drinking for the past hour or so?

Suddenly, Seokjin runs a hand through his hair and pushes the strands backwards a little, exposing his forehead, and that’s it. That’s the breaking point for Hoseok. He needs to get out now, before he’s too far gone, lost in this gay fantasy that is mostly made up of actual memories.

He stands up all of a sudden, but apparently, he cuts right through Seokjin’s story, because as soon as he’s standing up there are three pairs of partially concerned, partially weirded-out eyes on him.

“You alright?” Namjoon asks, looking up at him.

Hoseok nods energetically, even though he feels like his head is underwater, no doubt an effect of drinking and staring at Seokjin and remembering.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I just need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Sorry,” he says, and after that, he makes his way to the bathroom of the bar, and it’s a blessing that he has the route ingrained into his brain because he’s not in the mood for thinking. He just needs to wash his face with cold water and force this strange thirst out of his system.

The men’s bathroom only allows one person at a time, and luckily enough, it’s empty when Hoseok reaches it. Perhaps it’s still too early— it was only an hour and a half since they arrived, which meant it was probably around nine thirty; extremely early for a Friday night, and even more so in a place like Hongdae.

Hoseok shuts the door behind him and in a split second, he’s gathering cold water from the faucet between his hands and splashing it against the heated skin of his face. It makes him hiss, but it’s a nice, pleasant feeling. The coldness of the water anchors him and knocks some sense of reality into him, while at the same time, it distracts him from the thoughts that had been running in circles in his head. The lighting in the restroom is terrible, but when he looks at his reflection in the mirror, he can clearly see how flushed his cheeks are. He spends a few moments in there, washing his face, cooling down, and allowing his mind to focus on things that don’t mess up with his psyche, like the distant thumping of the bass in the bar and the way it makes the floor beneath him tremble, or the terrible smell of public restroom with a layer of fake lavender deodorant over it.

He’s just about ready to go back, feeling better even if no less tipsy, when there’s a knock on the door.

Hoseok sighs, but he closes the tap and looks around for paper towels to dry his hands and face with.

“I’ll be right out, gimme a sec!” He calls out.

“Hoseokie? It’s me! Are you okay?” the person on the other side of the door answers him, and fuck— fuck, it’s Seokjin. Hoseok recognizes his voice right away. How could he not, when he’s been hearing it on a regular basis during the past seven years?

The younger man huffs, the hurricane inside of him kicking right up merely at the sound of the older man’s voice, just when he thought he had it under control.

“I’m fine! I told you I’m fine, already,” Hoseok says, though he’s not sure if his voice is loud enough for Seokjin to hear him. Whatever. Once he’s done drying his hands, and after he’s thrown the paper towel into the trash can, he takes a deep breath. He forces himself to smile the brightest, most honest, and least suspicious grin he can muster, and he opens the door.

Seokjin is there, Hoseok knew that already, but he wasn’t expecting him to be standing so close to the door. The light in the narrow hallway that leads to the restrooms is dim and a terrible shade of green, but Seokjin doesn’t look bad beneath it. Quite on the contrary— he looks ready to graze the cover of some high fashion magazine, with that stupidly perfect hair of his, that stupidly perfect face of his, and that tight-fitting dress shirt of his. The sight of him, albeit expected, paralyzes Hoseok’s brain cells and renders him speechless and unable to move; he can’t even smile properly like he intended to do. All he can do is take in a small, shaky breath as his eyes meet the older man’s. He swallows hard, as though the action could choke all the thoughts and memories that have been crossing his mind during the past week, but of course it doesn’t. The thoughts, the images, the flashes, and the ghost touch of Seokjin’s hands and mouth on him are still there.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Seokjin asks him, but his voice comes out so softly, that Hoseok isn’t sure if he actually heard him or if he just read the words on his lips as he pronounced them.

He nods, still looking up at him, because— hell, his eyes are almost shimmering like dark precious stones, and have they always been this pretty? Seokjin has always been good looking, Hoseok has always accepted this as a fact of life, but he had never been this affected by his handsomeness. He used to joke around with him, saying that it was good he was so handsome because he would never have trouble finding a girlfriend (to which Seokjin would reply with “the problem is keeping them!”). But now, standing face to face with Seokjin under the doorframe of the men’s bathroom of this tiny old bar in Hongdae, he feels a strange magnetism radiating from him, threatening on pulling him in like a tiny satellite caught by a black hole.

“I’m alright, yeah, I just… I just needed some…” Hoseok trails off, licking his lips unconsciously when Seokjin takes a step closer to him. He doesn’t step back, though. He stays put, even if he has to tilt his head back a little bit if he wants to keep on looking at the older man’s eyes —which he does. He wants to keep on looking at them, even if they’re setting fire to him from the inside out and making him recall things he shouldn’t. Things he should have forgotten, like the look in Seokjin’s face when he climaxed, or the feeling of his mouth wrapped around his dick. Before he can stop himself, and even if he’s nowhere near as drunk as he was exactly one week ago, he gives into Seokjin’s pull and reaches with his hand. He places it under Seokjin’s neck, just above his collarbone, and shit, the mere contact makes heat spread as fast as wildfire through his nervous system.

“Some what?” Seokjin asks, chuckling lowly. However, he’s not as collected as he seems. His voice comes off a little bit shaky, and as he puts one of his hands on Hoseok’s side, the younger can sense something akin to doubt in the way his fingers struggle to find a place to settle on.

They’re in the same wavelength, it seems; doubtful and a little scared, but secretly wanting.

“Some water,” Hoseok replies, his voice weak and low, but Seokjin nods at him and hums as he takes another step closer.

Or was it Hoseok who took a step this time? Hoseok isn’t sure— all he knows is that suddenly Seokjin’s chest is against his, and that his hand is restless, grabbing at Seokjin’s shirt but letting go almost right away as if gripping the fabric too tightly would burn his skin. The older man’s eyes are looking down at him, darkened and glowing under the eerie green light, and the look on them is one that Hoseok already knows. This closeness is something that Hoseok already knows, but for the first time in a week, and without that much alcohol in his system, Hoseok is willing to admit to himself that he wants to feel it all over again.

It’s when that realization hits that he finally moves, cupping Seokjin’s jaw with his both hands and pulling him down so that he can throw away every apprehension about the dangers and implications of this whole situation and just kiss the living daylights out of Seokjin. Seokjin, it seems, has the same plan.

Things move fast, after that.

Seokjin growls into Hoseok’s mouth as he kisses back hungrily, his grip on Hoseok’s hip tightens and grows more confident, and he loops his other arm around Hoseok’s torso so that he can push him into the dark bathroom. As soon as they’re inside, Hoseok pushes Seokjin back against the door, slamming it shut, and neither of them bothers to turn on the light. It smells terrible, and the music from the bar is so muffled that Hoseok can hear every wet noise of their kissing layered above it in a way that could be gross, but that is actually fueling him like gasoline.

Hoseok isn’t even drunk, but he feels just as gone and high as if he had drunk twice as much soju as he actually did. His whole body is thrumming with adrenaline and want, and although there’s a nagging voice inside of him telling him that he will regret this later (’because Seokjin is your friend, and neither of you is gay, and it’s okay if it happens once, because once is a mistake, but twice? Twice is not a mistake, that’s a damn conscious decision!’), Hoseok lets it yap all it wants.

The wet sounds of Seokjin’s thick lips sucking on his tongue, the deep grunts and breathy sighs that he makes as Hoseok runs his hands down his chest, stroking his firm flesh and rubbing more intently on the area where he guesses his nipples are, the rustling of fabric as their hips knock and grind together in the cramped space of the bathroom— all those noises drown the tiny figment of heterosexuality that’s telling him that bros don’t hook up with their bros; that bros don’t think about their bro’s body the way he’s been thinking about Seokjin’s for the past week.

Soon enough there is nothing stopping him from slipping his leg between Seokjin’s and rolling his hips forward with all the grace and agility of a dancer; nothing stopping him from groaning in pleasure into Seokjin’s mouth when Seokjin’s hand (his large and definitely not feminine hand) finds his ass and squeezes it through the fabric of his jeans.

“Fuck, this is so—,” Seokjin groans, throwing his head to the side and gripping harder on Hoseok’s ass as the younger starts pressing hungry kisses to his neck.

“Weird. Yeah, I know, we said that last time,” Hoseok says breathlessly against Seokjin’s wet neck, his tongue tracing aimless circles over his skin in a subconscious attempt of bringing forth those purple marks again.

“Hmm,” Seokjin hums, moving his hand up Hoseok’s back before lowering it again, this time slipping past the waistband of his jeans in order to cup his ass through his boxers. The closer contact makes Hoseok shiver— it makes him wish he could feel Seokjin’s hands on his flesh, which is strange and wouldn’t have made any sense only ten days ago. “But I bet you’ve been thinking about this all week, haven’t you?” the older man finishes, a smirk evident in his voice, no matter how turned on and almost desperate he sounds. “Don’t lie.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok answers a little too fast, even if the ‘yes’ is extremely evident.

“’Maybe?’ Please, you were about to cream your pants out there,” Seokjin says, and when Hoseok feels laughter bubbling up his throat, he bites down on it at the same time as he grinds his hips forward sharply. He wishes he could’ve recorded the reaction he got from Seokjin— a loud, rumbly, needy moan.

“Well, if you haven’t been thinking about it, then why are you even here, hyung? For science?” Hoseok asks him, a little smugly, echoing the words he vaguely remembers Seokjin saying the previous Friday night and pulling back from his neck so he can look at his face.

“I mean, in a way, I guess you could say that,” Seokjin replies, between breaths. His hand is still on Hoseok’s ass, and even if the lights in the small stinky room are off, Hoseok’s pupils are beyond dilated and used to the darkness, so he can see the way Seokjin’s eyes shimmer and his lips glisten with spit. “You know I’m down if you’re down. And if you’re not drunk. Honestly, this is weird, but it’s also hot, so…”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is pretty hot, actually, even if it’s strange, to say the least. And I’m not drunk, by the way. Just a little tipsy,” Hoseok answers, licking his own lips and tasting Seokjin and soju on them. He swallows nervously, shakily. “So… Yeah.” ’I want to have sex with you, quick, before I change my mind and realize how stupid this is,’ is what he means, but he doesn’t need to say it.

“Huh. So, you’re down, then,” the older man says, raising one of his thick eyebrows under his black fringe. It’s more of a statement than it is a question, though Hoseok doesn’t feel pressured to agree to anything.

It’s out of his own free will that he agrees (if a gagged, tied up, and locked away heterosexual conscience dominated by instincts and primal wants can be considered free will to begin with).

He nods, swallowing thickly.

“I’m down, yeah.”



They only stay at the bar for a few more minutes.

Before going back to the table where Namjoon and Jimin are waiting for them, they turn on the lights of the bathroom and adjust themselves on the mirror a little bit so that it’s less evident that they just made out pretty intensely with each other. Luckily, Hoseok’s bite to Seokjin’s neck –as well as the kisses he pressed to it— didn’t leave any marks behind, and aside from their swollen lips and flushed cheeks, there is nothing wrong with the way they look. Neither Namjoon nor Jimin point out anything about them; all they do is ask Hoseok if he’s really okay, and Seokjin questions about what happened in there that took them so long (all of which Seokjin answers to with amazing lies that don’t seem rouse any suspicion from their friends).

They take an uber to Seokjin’s place (something neither Namjoon nor Jimin bat an eye at), and Hoseok is on edge the entire trip. Seokjin takes the passenger seat while he sits at the back, right behind Seokjin, and as they drive fast through the streets of the city and Seokjin converses casually with the driver, Hoseok can’t help but go over every single decision in his life that took to this moment. Looking out through the slightly tinted windows he can’t help but ask himself, is he really on his way to Kim Seokjin’s apartment in order to have sex with him? And, perhaps more importantly, did he really decide to do it while sober?

For a moment he fears that all the want and curiosity and desire that he felt while kissing Seokjin in the bathroom might evaporate during the time that it’ll take them to get to Seokjin’s place, but that doesn’t happen. He’s been having unwelcomed thoughts about Seokjin’s lips and Seokjin’s dick for an entire week, all of which only got rekindled with their sneaky make-out session, so even as he sits on the backseat of the car and the cool wind hits his face and whips through his hair, the thirst inside of him doesn’t die down.

Which is terrible, in a way.

Is he really thirsty for his best friend? His best straight friend, at that, when he himself is also straight?

It seems that yes, yes he is.

It’s not even eleven pm when they reach Seokjin’s apartment building, and the elevator is unpleasantly crowded with people making their way home as they go up (which totally blows Hoseok’s plan of pinning Seokjin to the wall and attacking his neck again to just, you know, make sure that he is really still on board with everything, and whatnot).

Seokjin is very casual and chatty for as long as the trip to his place lasts, and even as he struggles to find the right key of his front door he seems completely collected and normal (though a slight tremor in his hands that makes his set of keys clink noisily give away an underlying nervousness). It all makes Hoseok feel weird. Seven nights ago, he was in the same place as he is now, except this time neither of them is drunk— all they are is curious. Horny in an unusual way. Excited, but more than a little nervous. Without the haziness of alcohol, it’s easier for Hoseok to see the dangers that might come from this, but then again, he knows that if there is someone he can trust with something like this, it’s Seokjin. They’re both in the exact same situation, after all —discovering what it’s like to fool around with another guy for the first time ever—, and they’ve been around each other for long enough to know they can rely on each other.

The moment they cross the threshold, it’s like something shifts between them. Seokjin’s chattiness disappears, and Hoseok’s hands sweat as he takes off his shoes in the entryway. They’re not saying anything, and Hoseok isn’t looking at Seokjin. His blood is one minute away from boiling and the tension in the air is making his skin itch, but nothing has even happened yet.

It isn’t until Hoseok puts a foot on the hardwood floor of the hallway that something happens.

“Hold up, Hoseokie?” Seokjin says, his voice a little bit too loud in the completely silent apartment as his hand wraps around Hoseok’s wrist. The mere touch has a hot feeling coursing through Hoseok’s veins, and it has him turning around fast to look at the older man.

“Yeah?” He replies, his mouth far too dry, but turning even drier when his eyes meet Seokjin’s. It feels like the bathroom of the bar all over again, and it’s dangerous; all it took was just a tiny touch and a look for Seokjin to get Hoseok’s body buzzing with anticipation again.

“I, uh,” the older man says, looking right back at Hoseok with widened eyes that fall to the ground every few fractions of second. It’s actually kind of endearing. It makes something warm bloom in Hoseok’s chest, and it makes him coo at his friend. It makes him braver, too; he’s still scared because he has no idea what the hell he’s doing, but seeing Seokjin like this makes him want to give him a hand.

And so he does just that. He finds Seokjin’s hand with his own after freeing himself from the older man’s loose grip, and he even intertwines their fingers, and riding a strange wave of sudden confidence, he tugs on Seokjin’s hand to pull him closer to himself, out of the entryway.

Seokjin follows until they’re standing chest to chest.

“Hey, if you changed your mind and don’t wanna do this anymore, it’s okay, you know?” Hoseok tells him, and he honestly means it, even if his entire body (not his mind or his common sense, obviously) is praying Seokjin won’t step back.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that. I just…” He says, stopping himself with a light laughter that rings pleasantly in Hoseok’s ears. It’s contagious, and it has him laughing too. They’re ridiculous and pathetic— Hoseok has never been like this, and he doubts Seokjin is normally like this, and yet, here they are, dancing around each other awkwardly like two blushing virgins. “I just don’t know where to begin. That’s all. And I’m kinda scared, so bear with me.”

“I’m scared too, hyung,” Hoseok tells him in what he hopes is reassurance. He’s fucking nervous, alright, and the worst part is he isn’t afraid that he won’t like it and he will never want to do this again. He’s afraid that he’ll like it too much. But now is not the time to think about that. Now is not the time to think about anything at all. Seokjin is mere centimeters away from him, and they’re all alone in his apartment, holding hands, and with the promise of having sex with each other hanging between them. “Let’s just… let’s just kiss for a while and take it from there.”

Seokjin laughs softly at that, but he nods, and woah— it’s only then that Hoseok realizes how close they are to each other, because Seokjin’s hair brushed against his forehead. The closeness has Hoseok’s heart beating fast and doubling up in speed with every passing second, and when his hand finds Seokjin’s side and wraps around his slim waist to pull him even closer, he lets out a shaky breath that fans against the older man’s lips.

“Alright. Alright, I can do that,” Seokjin whispers against Hoseok’s lips, and just when Hoseok thinks he’s going to say something else, like a bad joke or a witty remark, he leans forward and kisses him instead.

At first, it’s slow and tentative, nothing at all like the other kisses they shared up to that point. Seokjin’s lips are soft and sweet against his, and they move slowly, as if wanting to savor Hoseok. It’s nice, and Hoseok finds himself humming into the elder’s mouth and squeezing his waist before he can stop to think about it. Seokjin is a really, really good kisser, so it’s easy for Hoseok to let himself go, forget the tension in his muscles, and enjoy the way Seokjin’s plush lips move against his; the way his tongue darts out teasingly every now and then and trails over his own lips; the way his large hand and pretty crooked fingers bury in his hair and cup his jaw.

Superficial touches of lips and tongues are enough for a moment, but soon Hoseok finds himself wanting more, and it seems that Seokjin wants the same thing too, because he moves closer, his hold on Hoseok’s hair tightens, and he tilts his head slightly as he licks into Hoseok’s mouth. And Hoseok takes it all in stride; he groans into Seokjin’s mouth as their tongues slide together, and his hands start running up and down the elder’s back, eager to explore in spite of the barrier of clothes between their skins. Touching Seokjin’s body is nothing like Hoseok is used to; he’s slim but broad, with toned but not excessively defined muscles, and firm and long expanses of skin, but he’s eager to discover again what he forgot throughout the week.

Hoseok lets his hands wander, reach up for Seokjin’s shoulder blades; slide to his front so he can press his palms against his chest, his ribs, and his stomach; squeeze his waist for the nth time because, okay, Hoseok may or may not have a thing for Seokjin’s narrow waist; play with the waistband of Seokjin’s office slacks and his belt before reaching below them so he can cup Seokjin’s ass in his hands. Seokjin’s breathing falters and sweet little noises escape his throat whenever Hoseok’s hands graze over a sensitive area, but he doesn’t stay behind. As their kiss grows deeper, wetter, more confident and desperate, Seokjin’s hands drop from Hoseok’s face and hair so that he can slip them under his shirt. He isn’t very adventurous with his hands yet, but he doesn’t have to be— the mere feeling of his hands on his body has Hoseok squirming, moving closer so their hips (’and their dicks’, Hoseok’s brain supplies) are pressed together.

But soon, none of this is enough.

Soon, Hoseok’s wandering hands are tucking Seokjin’s shirt out of his pants, and Seokjin’s hands are moving to the front of Hoseok’s body and sending sparks of electricity through Hoseok’s nervous system when he teasingly yet briefly dips his fingertips past the waistband of his boxers. Soon, Hoseok is kissing down Seokjin’s neck and drowning in his musky and masculine (but strangely delicious) scent, while he lets himself be guided into Seokjin’s apartment.

“Can I take your shirt off, Hobi?” Seokjin asks when they reach his bedroom and instead of standing up, they’re sitting on the edge of his bed. Or, well, Seokjin is sitting on the edge of his bed while Hoseok straddles his thighs and keeps his mouth latched to his neck. The older man’s voice comes off low and rough, and honestly, the sound of it is arousing in itself. It almost makes Hoseok groan as he grounds his hips down against Seokjin’s.

“Yeah, you can, but please don’t call me Hobi when we’re going to have sex,” he replies, and it actually makes Seokjin laugh as he pulls off Hoseok’s shirt and throws it somewhere that isn’t the floor (because he knows at this point how much of a neat freak Hoseok is). Hoseok rewards his thoughtfulness by ridding him of his own shirt; he removes his mouth from where it was sucking a bruise on Seokjin’s pretty skin, so he can undo the buttons of his dress shirt with deft fingers and push the fabric off his wide shoulders.

“Why not? It’s cute, and I’ve always called you that,” Seokjin reasons, though his words turn breathier the moment that Hoseok latches his mouth to his skin again, though instead of the neck, this time he goes for his chest. Skin to skin, everything feels better and more intense; Seokjin’s body is hot against him and underneath him, and Hoseok reaches for his shoulder for the sake of having something firm to hold onto as his mouth does what its been dreaming to do since he saw those pretty bruises on the older man’s skin a week ago.

“Exactly, it’s cute. Now is not the time for being cute,” Hoseok says, and Seokjin chuckles breathlessly, his fingers reaching for Hoseok’s hair and tangling in it.

“What should I call you then? ‘Baby’? Or maybe something degrading, if you’re into that?” the older man asks, amusedly, though all his playfulness evaporates, and he lets out a loud moan when Hoseok finally reaches one of his nipples with his lips and he flicks it repeatedly with his tongue. “Oh, fuck—!”

His reaction goes straight to Hoseok’s dick, which is currently pressed right against Seokjin’s through four terrible layers of clothes. Hoseok was very drunk when they fooled around for the first time, but many things stand out crystal clear in his hazy memories, and one of them is Seokjin’s hypersensitive nipples. He would be lying if he said his nervousness went away after a few minutes of kissing and touching, because it’s still very much there, gnawing at his insides insistently, while, at the same time, his common sense looks at him with its arms crossed over its chest and a look of disapproval in its eyes.

But Seokjin, his surprising sensitivity, and his responsiveness to Hoseok’s touches are all doing a great job in making Hoseok forget about the consequences, so at this point, he is more far more eager than he is scared.

He wants to make Seokjin moan and lose his mind with pleasure. He wants to cover him in bruises, to taste his skin, and discover all the places in his body that make him cry out. He wants to discover how different it is to touch him compared to touching a girl, and all these things are definitely the strangest things he could ever want, but whatever. It is what it is. His mind is already clouded with lust and curiosity, and he’s sure that his brain won’t let go of the thought of having sex with a guy (with Kim Seokjin, in particular) until he’s actually done it.

In seconds, he’s pushing Seokjin down on the soft mattress and crawling on top of him; he’s pressing his lips against Seokjin’s into another hot and demanding kiss; he’s running one of his hands down Seokjin’s chest and pinching his nipples teasingly before he’s reaching lower. It turns out it’s really difficult to unbuckle a belt singlehandedly and without looking, so Seokjin swats his hand off so he can do it himself. He also helps Hoseok by shimmying his slacks down his thighs and kicking them off his legs, and then, he helps by getting rid of Hoseok’s own jeans so the younger man can focus on other more important stuff, like sucking on Seokjin’s tongue, or toying with his nipples to elicit sweet sounds from him.

So far, so good.

Being on top of Seokjin allows Hoseok to control the rhythm at which their hips rock back and forth, and it feels good. Seokjin’s hands are on his hair and on his ass, pulling insistently and increasing the friction between their bodies, and it feels great. Their dicks are rubbing against each other through their thin boxers, and it feels fucking fantastic.

“Fuck, hyung, you’re so eager,” Hoseok says –pretty much moans— against Seokjin’s mouth, one of his hands fisting Seokjin’s blanket and the other slipping low enough palm Seokjin’s hard dick through his underwear. It’s not something he hasn’t done before, but since he’s sober and hyperaware of the entire situation, he can’t help but feel that everything about this is a first.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Seokjin bites back, gasping at the touch of Hoseok’s hand and biting down hard on his lower lip. His nails dig onto Hoseok’s scalp and his hips buck upwards to seek more of his hand, and at the same time, he looks up at Hoseok through half-lidded eyes. His fringe is sticking to his forehead on some places, his cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown, and his lips swollen, and yet, there is something almost arrogant about the way he looks at Hoseok; something that has Hoseok’s stomach twisting and his dick twitching. “Tell me, did you touch yourself this past week?”

Hoseok can feel his face flushing, even if most of his blood is currently south.

“What do you want to know that for?” Hoseok replies evasively, embarrassed even if his hand is currently stroking Seokjin’s dick through his boxers.

“I’m just curious,” Seokjin says, casually, his eyelids fluttering prettily for a moment.

“Well, I haven’t. Not even once,” Hoseok says honestly, and the moment his words leave his mouth, Seokjin hums and shrugs as nonchalantly as he can for a person in his position, his lips pursing slightly. Hoseok smirks, realizing he hit him on his ego, and he licks his lips before he pulls back so he can kneel on the bed and spread Seokjin’s legs further apart. He grabs him by the thighs (by his hairy and kinda firm thighs— they’re not smooth nor soft, nor do they smell like pomegranate or rose petal body cream, and, strangely, this novelty only makes Hoseok more excited) and he bends them, and fuck, Seokjin is as flexible as an Olympic gymnast, and as pliant as a puppy. Hoseok doesn’t even know what he’s bending Seokjin for; all he knows is that all of a sudden all he can think of is Seokjin bent in half, ankles hooked over his shoulders, while he fucks him hard. He inches closer to him on the bed, his constrained dick pressing right up against the skin between Seokjin’s balls and ass, and it’s all adding fuel to the fire, making Seokjin groan and giving Hoseok terrible ideas. “But I’ve wanted to all week. Every day. But I just keep on remembering last week all the time. Whenever I wanted to just jerk it off in peace, I couldn’t stop thinking about… Well. This.”

(’About you’.)

The older man snorts at that, smug, which is kind of funny considering he’s still bent and spread, and the only thing covering him is a flimsy pair of boxers that do nothing to hide his prominent erection.

“You’re a baby. You know that?” Seokjin says, and when it sounds like he’s going to laugh, Hoseok angles his hips and lifts Seokjin’s ass just enough so that the next time he rolls his hips, his clothed cock presses against Seokjin’s ass cheeks. It makes Seokjin’s laughter falter, but it also sends a slight yet addictive kind of pleasure rushing through Hoseok’s veins that has him digging his fingers more deeply onto Seokjin’s flesh. But Seokjin continues, breathless but still amused and mocking. “You’re telling me you wanted to jerk off but didn’t because you kept remembering that I sucked your dick on this same bed and felt guilty because you liked it?”

“Well, friends don’t think about their friends sucking their dicks, do they?” Hoseok asks, which is a little cynical of him considering it’s all he’s been doing lately. “Actually, friends don’t suck their friends’ dicks to begin with. Much less when neither of them is gay.”

At that, Seokjin sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I’m forcing you to be here, am I? And if you think you’re the only one who went through an identity crisis after last week, you’re wrong. But unlike you, it seems, I’ve decided to move on from it and see what this is about. It’s only complicated if you make it complicated.”

“What, so you gave me a blowjob and suddenly you’re gay now?” Hoseok asks, raising an eyebrow down at Seokjin, even if his dick is still mostly hard, still pressed against the bottom of Seokjin’s ass cheeks, and his hand is still cupping Seokjin’s equally mostly-hard dick.

Seokjin huffs.

“You can’t seriously be asking me this when your cock is literally against my ass. That’s gay,” he says, and it seems he decides that having this conversation right now is futile and stupid (that, or he got too impatient), because suddenly his hand is over Hoseok’s, and he’s pulling it down against his clothed cock. The moment the pressure intensifies, he hums, and he reacts by muttering ’yeah, that’s better’ into the warm air of the room and involuntarily lifting his hips. His eyelids are half closed and his lips are half open, glistening with spit, and the sight of all this isn’t much compared to other things Hoseok’s seen Seokjin do, but it turns him on like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. It has him wrapping his fingers as best as he can around the outline of Seokjin’s dick and stroking him through the fabric.

It’s bigger than he remembers, and Hoseok doesn’t know how he feels about that.

He doesn’t know how he feels about any of this, actually. He knows he isn’t gay, but he also knows that feels more turned on than he’s ever been, that he wants to fuck Seokjin until he can’t walk straight (and, alternatively, that he wouldn’t be opposed to Seokjin fucking him until he can’t walk straight), and that he wants to cum on Seokjin’s skin, to mark him and cover him in bruises. But none of this he understands.

But he won’t try to, at the moment. He’ll just follow his gut, like the previous time, and hope for the best.

Luckily, it doesn’t take them much to get all riled up again.

Their mouths find each other’s again, but things shift. Seokjin wraps his legs around Hoseok so he can flip them over, and from that moment on, Hoseok’s mind shuts down and the world around him becomes tinier and tinier, until the only things in it are Seokjin and himself; Seokjin’s skin pressing hot and sweaty against his; Seokjin’s hands and mouth on his body, and Seokjin’s body beneath his own hands and his own mouth. Everything is hazy in Hoseok’s mind, but it’s good; it’s nice. He likes it like that. He likes that the heat is so overwhelming that he can’t even think properly; he likes that he’s so eager to just do something, anything, that he doesn’t think twice about ridding himself of his boxers when Seokjin starts tugging on them because he just wants them off. He doesn’t think twice before he wraps one of his hands around Seokjin’s and his own cocks, and the strong shot of pleasure that surges through his body, and the loud and breathy moan that Seokjin lets out against his open mouth are proof that the less he thinks about this, the better.

“Hoseokie,” Seokjin whispers roughly into his ear, later, and Hoseok shivers when the older man’s tongue darts out to trace the shell of his ear for a brief moment. “Would it be weird if I told you that I did jerk off to this?”

“To this?” Hoseok asks dumbly because that’s all he can do. His brain short-circuits at the new information, and he feels lost. Seokjin jerked off to the thought of them. To the memories of them. Unlike Hoseok, who tried to resist the urge to touch himself while thinking of Seokjin’s lips wrapped around his cock (not that any of that helped him stop thinking about Seokjin’s lips wrapped around his cock), Seokjin had voluntarily recalled god-knows-what while he jerked off. It is weird, but it is also sexy— stroking their dicks together and getting hit by strong waves of pleasure and want that only intensify with every movement of his wrist, Hoseok can’t help but think that it’s hot as fuck.

“To the other night, but yeah. To this,” Seokjin confesses, breathlessly. “It’s not weird, is it?”

“I mean, all of this is weird, hyung, but— fuck. It’s hot.”

“Yeah?” Seokjin asks, his hips rocking into Hoseok’s hand, his dick rubbing more earnestly against Hoseok’s. He pulls back, biting on his abused lower lip. His eyes shimmer in the dark as if they had a light of their own, and they’re so large and black and pretty, Hoseok almost, almost thinks he could stare at them for a couple of hours without getting tired of them.

“Yeah, of course, hyung. I mean… God, what did you even think about?” Hoseok finds himself asking, his voice shaky with anticipation, but he isn’t really looking for an answer; not right now. He’s rock hard, and so is Seokjin, and if they’re gonna do anything then they better get around to doing it already. If Seokjin goes into detail about what he thought about while he masturbated, Hoseok can’t promise he’ll last much longer, because the single thought of Seokjin jerking off to the thought of him, of all people, is far too overwhelming, far too much, and in this context, far too pleasing.

So, he speaks again before Seokjin has a chance to say anything.

“Hey, by the way, uh… You still wanna…” he starts, trailing off and looking up at the older man. His chest is raising and falling quickly, but so is Seokjin’s, and with every inhale they take, their chests end up completely pressed together. It’s a pleasant feeling. Seokjin tilts his head slightly, questioningly, something impatient in the way he looks back down at him, and Hoseok swallows hard before he continues. “You know. You still wanna fuck me?”

Hoseok sees the hitch in Seokjin’s breath at his words, and he encourages him with a long stroke to their cocks that makes a broken groan escape the older man’s lips.

“God, yes,” he answers, and the certainty in the way he says it makes Hoseok’s stomach flip. But then… “But we can do it the other way if you want. I don’t care. It’s true that I have more experience with anal, so… If we’re really gonna do this now, then you should fuck me.”

Hoseok lets out a sound that is somewhere between a huff and a laughter, but it’s all to mask the wave of arousal that takes over him. His mouth seeks Seokjin’s, and he kisses him heatedly, fingers of his free hand tangling in the older man’s black hair.

“Fuck,” he curses between kisses, his brain completely fried. “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah, really. Really, really,” the older man says, punctuating every word with a kiss. “I’ve thought about it, and you know? I want it. If I had a good time when a girl did it with a plastic dick, then why wouldn’t I now when there is an actual dick in the equation?”

Hoseok laughs against Seokjin’s mouth, and Seokjin joins in as well.

“Wow. That’s gay,” Hoseok jokes, echoing Seokjin’s words, and the older man just chuckles, his breath fanning against Hoseok’s lips.

“Yeah, it is, I guess. Are you up for it?”

Hoseok nods so fast he almost gets dizzy.

“Hell yes.”



Hoseok isn’t new to sex.

He’s been having it since he was old enough to be taught about STDs in high school, so now, a few years before turning thirty years old, he’s more than familiar with the concept of sex. He’s had more sexual partners than he can count with his fingers (toes included). He’s had amazing and mind-blowing orgasms, but also terribly disappointing ones. He’s done some kinky stuff and some vanilla stuff, too. He doesn’t shy away from talking about any of these things— it’s just another normal aspect of life, he supposes. It’s not a sacred thing; not to him, at least. It’s just two people having fun with each other and making each other feel good. That’s all there is.

That’s always been his mindset.

However, gay sex…

That’s completely new to him.

Hoseok isn’t gay. He’s never been attracted to any man in a sexual way, even if he has no problem admitting that other men are attractive (for example, Brad Pitt? He’s attractive, right? Or that one Siwon guy from that K-Pop group that was big during his college years. Or, well, Kim Seokjin. Kim Seokjin is attractive). Until recently, he had never fantasized about having another man’s dick inside of him, or about putting his own dick in another man’s butt, so right now, kneeling between Seokjin’s spread legs, a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms within hand’s reach, he’s more than a little nervous.

The funny thing is he did some research over the course of the week.

For science.

He read and looked up information about anal sex. He read through a step-by-step guide to it, he read about the prostate (which he’s already heard wonders about, courtesy of his five not-straight best friends), about proper lubrication, about proper preparation, hygiene, pro-tips, and a huge etcetera. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he suspected that having his first non-heterosexual sexual encounter had something to do with it.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever need the knowledge, but he still... wanted to know more.

(He supposed he could’ve gone to Yoongi or Jimin or anyone with his questions and get great answers from a first-hand source, but wouldn’t that be suspicious? Why would Jung Hoseok, Token Straight Friend, go around asking about gay sex all of a sudden, only days after his first visit to a gay club? Also, Yoongi and Namjoon both know he slept over at Seokjin’s, so… yeah. It’s suspicious to say the least.)

Lucky for Hoseok, while he isn’t exactly an expert either, Seokjin is a lot more familiar than he is with anal sex, so he guides him through the motions.

He tells Hoseok how to do things when he gets around to stretching him with his fingers (which are properly lubed up and covered by a condom), which Hoseok greatly appreciates. It’s not like he lacks experience when it comes to fingering, but it’s not something he regularly did (because why would he finger a girl if he has a perfectly functioning dick, right?), and anyway, everything about this is different.

Seokjin is tight like nothing Hoseok has ever experienced before, and he feels overwhelmingly hot around his fingers. He doesn’t complain, but with every hesitant and curious movement of Hoseok’s fingers, he lets out little whines and groans that Hoseok has no idea whether they’re a good or a bad sign, but that he captures in his mouth as they kiss deeply.

“Is it good?” Hoseok asks him at a certain point, breathlessly, because apparently he’s only slightly less affected than Seokjin despite him who’s doing the fingering instead of the one getting fingered. He finally has two fingers knuckle-deep in Seokjin’s ass, and the slide is easier now, facilitated by the copious amounts of lube they’ve used and by the fact that they’ve taken it slow and careful. He moves them slowly in and out, angling differently every time, and the movement elicits gasps and groans from Seokjin every time.

“It’s… It’s not bad,” he says, swallowing hard. One of his arms is wrapped around Hoseok, his fingers digging into his shoulder, but his other hand is wrapped around Hoseok’s dick. He isn’t doing anything, not even stroking him, but the pressure is almost choking Hoseok with a kind of pleasure that isn’t nearly enough.

“‘Not bad’? So, not good either?” Hoseok asks, frowning as he pulls back and pushes back in again, a little harder and a little deeper this time. Seokjin groans a little louder this time.

“It’s just been a while since I’ve had anything down there, and— holy fuck!” he cuts himself off, suddenly, and his body archs off the bed. His voice turns into a loud whine that shakes Hoseok to the core, and, yep, it seems like he finally found what he was looking for. “Holy fuck, Hobi, do that again, please. That’s my—“

“—yeah, yeah, I know what it is,” Hoseok interrupts, but he obeys and he repeats the motion of his fingers, harder once again, and the reaction he gets from Seokjin is pretty much the same. His cock twitches from where it’s pressed up against his stomach, fully hard, and he tosses his head as a moan escapes his throat. A powerful kind of heat shoots through Hoseok’s body at the mere sight of Seokjin thrashing in pleasure and at the feeling of his ass clenching around him. “Holy fuck, they weren’t lying,” he muses to himself, fucking his fingers against Seokjin’s prostrate again and revelling in the pleasure it gives him as if it were his own.

It isn’t until Seokjin’s moans become louder and his nails start digging painfully into Hoseok’s flesh that the younger decides he’s had enough; that they’ve danced around this long enough, and that he’s so turned on and so desperate that he’s almost hurting.

He kisses Seokjin’s lips as he pulls his fingers out, and he tries to ignore the whine of complain he makes when he pulls away to fetch the condom. He takes a deep breath as he rips a second foil packet.

It’s happening.

He’s actually going to fuck Seokjin.

Seokjin is actually lying naked, hard, and all stretched out in front of him, his chest glistening with a layer of sweat and covered in even more bruises than the first time. His hair is all messed up, his lips wet and swollen, and his fingernails digging onto Hoseok’s shoulders.

It’s happening.

And he couldn’t be more excited.

“Next time,” Seokjin pants as Hoseok finally accommodates himself between his spread legs, one of them wrapping around the younger’s hips. (It’s happening). “It’ll be you beneath me.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok asks, licking his lips. His heart beats at a thousand miles per hour as he lifts Seokjin’s hips a little bit so he can position himself against his entrance. “Okay. But only if you’re careful.”

“Of course,” Seokjin replies, his voice barely there. He closes his eyes as he nods his head slowly, his hand going up to Hoseok’s hair from where it was resting on his shoulder just so he can pull his face closer until their lips are brushing. “I’ll be as careful as you need. I wanna make you feel good too...”

He trails off when Hoseok finally pushes in, slowly. His jaw falls open and a hot breath gusts against Hoseok’s parted lips.

“You feel good now, hyung?” Hoseok asks, roughly, almost overwhelmed by the pleasure even though this is only just beginning. Without the lube, it would be impossible for him to push in, no matter how slow, but as it is, although he meets some resistance, at a certain point it’s the opposite— by the time he’s bottomed out, heart beating deafeningly loudly behind his ears, Seokjin’s body is clamping so tightly around his dick, it’s like he never wants to let go of him again. It’s almost blinding, and this time it’s Hoseok who lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan against Seokjin’s lips. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Seokjin is panting, his legs wrapped tightly around Hoseok’s hips, and he nods.

“I feel good, yeah— just wait a second, don’t move yet,” he says, a hint of desperation in his voice. “It’s so different— fuck, I’m so full.”

Hoseok groans at Seokjin’s words alone, and every cell in his body is screaming for him to move, but he doesn’t. He listens to Seokjin and he stays put, his hips unmoving even as his mouth presses against the older man’s jaw.

“It hurts?” Hoseok asks, kissing down Seokjin’s neck.

“Yeah. Yeah, it hurts, but—“

Hoseok has never moved fast enough. He pulls back to look down at Seokjin, his eyes open and concerned, but still blown with lust.

“—should I pull out?” He asks rushedly, but Seokjin chuckles softly, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s okay. It’ll get better. I know. And anyway, it’s not a bad kind of pain. Just… wait,” Seokjin says again, his fingers threading through Hoseok’s hair gently, in a way that is almost intimate. Hoseok sighs, nodding, desperate with the need to move, but patient enough not to do it. The way Seokjin’s heat squeezes around him is unignorable, but Hoseok distracts himself by capturing the older man’s lips in a slow but heated kiss.

It feels like an eternity until Seokjin’s legs tighten around his hips and he pulls back to tell Hoseok that it’s okay for him to move, but it might as well have been less than a minute.

Hoseok moves, but he does so slowly, as if testing the waters. He rolls his hips back before he thrusts back inside carefully, and fuck, this tightness is really nothing like he’s used to. It’s maddening, and his breath falters with the first movement of his hips, and it only gets worse the more he moves. With every thrust into Seokjin’s heat, it’s like something explodes inside of Hoseok’s brain; something that burns him whole and has him wrapping an arm around Seokjin’s waist so he can pull him closer; something that makes him melt over and over, because with with every thrust, Seokjin moans, and the sound of his wrecked voice is irresistible.

They fall into rhythm soon enough. Hoseok catches the gist of it, letting his instincts guide him and tell him what to do, and it’s only a few moments before he’s fucking into Seokjin hard and deep. Seokjin’s hands can’t seem to decide where to settle, for they go from Hoseok’s shoulders to his hair to his face to his arms within seconds, but his legs are tightly and steadily wrapped around his body, and at a certain point, he starts moving his hips to meet Hoseok’s thrusts.

Seokjin is so sensitive, so responsive, so loud, and Hoseok doesn’t know if this is how he usually is or if it’s only because he’s getting fucked right now. But he would like to know. As he fucks Seokjin, one hand below him and the other one gripping on the bedsheets as he supports his body, he can’t help but think that he would love to know if Seokjin would be just as vocal if he was on top, but all thoughts vanish from his mind when a thrust has Seokjin pretty much screaming. He tosses his head back, his neck muscles tensing and his skin glistening, and he bends himself further, almost impossibly, until his legs are pretty much by Hoseok’s ribs.

It’s terribly intense, terribly hot, and Seokjin is so tight around him, and he feels so fucking good, but Hoseok wants more. He wants everything. Kissing Seokjin’s perfect lips as he fucks him is great, but there is morbid curiosity about to explode Hoseok, and he wants to see. He needs to see the way he fucks Seokjin, so suddenly, he stops moving and he pulls out, as difficult as it is. Seokjin is about to complain until Hoseok tells him to turn around, and his protest dies in his tongue.

Seokjin is truly a sight to behold like that; one that Hoseok would’ve never expected he’d get to see (or even want to see, for that matter). He’s on all fours, completely bare and on display; completely willing and pliant under Hoseok’s touch. His broad shoulders are covered by a sheen of sweat, but there are actual droplets trickling down the nape of his neck and rolling down, following his spine. His narrow waist seems to scream for Hoseok to hold it, and so he does just that. After he’s buried himself in Seokjin again, a loud groan of pleasure escaping both of their throats, he grabs Seokjin by the waist as he fucks into him. This time, his thrusts are less profound, but they’re faster, harder, and it feels so good that he can’t stop himself from gripping Seokjin’s hips with all his might. From where he is, Hoseok can see the way Seokjin’s ass takes his cock, and it drives him crazy.

Like this, he can reach Seokjin’s prostate almost every time, and with every thrust he has him calling out. At some point, his arms collapse and while he keeps his hips raised and his ass in the air, his face is buried against his pillows, and his spine is curved at an almost impossible angle. It reeks of sex, of sweat, and of the strange and synthetic scent of the lube they’re using, and it’s noisy in the room. The headboard of Seokjin’s bed hits the wall in time with the movements of their bodies, Seokjin keeps on moaning like he’s never felt better, and Hoseok isn’t exactly quiet, either, and then there’s the loud sound of skin slapping against skin. It could be disgusting, but it isn’t. It’s only messing with Hoseok’s head and body more, making the tight ball of pleasure in the pit of his stomach grow bigger every time.

His orgasm takes him by surprise. It sneaks up on him and hits him all of a sudden when Seokjin turns his head on the pillows so he can look at Hoseok over his shoulder, and he’s so completely wrecked, that it ends Hoseok.

“Fuck, hyung, I’m coming—” he pants out, roughly, his grip on Seokjin’s hips tightening and his rhythm faltering as he comes into the condom, deep inside Seokjin. His hips still against Seokjin’s ass as the waves of pleasure hit him, and it’s like his entire brain whites out and all that’s left in it is the feeling and the image of Seokjin below him and all around him.

It’s nothing short of amazing.

And what’s better is that Seokjin comes soon after. Hoseok hadn’t even realized that he was touching himself while he fucked him, so far gone he was; it’s only when Seokjin’s walls are clamping down almost painfully around his softening erection and making him moan loudly in oversensitivity that he realizes that he’s coming.

Unlike how loud he is during sex, Seokjin is very quiet when he orgasms. Hoseok has seen it before, and he remembers. This time he doesn’t get to see more than the side of Seokjin’s face, but it’s a similar spectacle (just as life-changing as the previous time). His eyes are closed, his lips parted, but nothing but heavy, choked breaths and barely audible whines escape them, all of them in time with the shocks of his orgasm. His hips snap and his back arches, and fuck if the sight of his muscles flexing under his skin isn’t alluring.

It’s only when the blinding pleasure has finally melted away and turned into a lethargic kind of comfort that Hoseok finds himself lying down next to Seokjin on the bed. They’re both still trying to catch their breaths, and Seokjin is still face down on the mattress, but when he turns his face to the side and his heavy eyes meet Hoseok’s, they can’t help but laugh.

“Well. That was something, wasn’t it,” the older man says, his voice muffled by the pillow. Hoseok laughs softly and nods, and without thinking, he brings a hand to the top of Seokjin’s back so he can stroke his skin gently.

“Yeah. Definitely. Not gonna lie, I’m glad we didn’t do this last time— being drunk for this would’ve sucked,” Hoseok says, mindlessly, and Seokjin hums, nodding.

“Yup. It’s hard to believe that we agreed to do this sober, though. Now we can’t say we don’t remember this happened,” Seokjin hums, looking at Hoseok through half-lidded eyes and the hint of a smirk that’s all smushed against the pillow. “Especially you. You enjoyed it a lot, don’t act like you didn’t. You totally played with my nonexistent ass; for a moment I thought you were going to slap it.”

Hoseok nearly chokes at that, but he laughs as he smacks Seokjin between his shoulder blades.

“Hyung, what the fuck,” he asks, first, before he adds, a little more hesitantly. “Would you have liked that…?”

Seokjin hums thoughtfully. “Maybe,” he says, giving Hoseok a little mysterious smile. Hoseok returns it, and for a moment he gets the irresistible urge to kiss Seokjin again. He is close enough that he could do it without much effort, but wouldn’t that be out of place? “Anyway,” Seokjin says, suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. “Can we get cleaned up? I’m lying on my own cum. I’m fucking exhausted, but I refuse to go to sleep like this.”

Hoseok chuckles, something like relief flooding him the moment his intrusive thought of kissing Seokjin vanishes.

“Yeah, let’s get cleaned up.”



Three days go by since Hoseok slept with Seokjin. Since he fucked Seokjin.

Only three.

That’s less than eighty hours.

And yet, Hoseok’s fingers tingle all day with the necessity to ask Seokjin what he is doing that night, and if he would like to meet up. It’s terrible, and it’s confusing, but he already knows that it’s pointless to ignore this itch. He already tried to, and he failed, and so after a mental debate that seems to last the entire day, he finally does it. He picks up his phone and exits the dancing room for a moment, claiming he has to take a short call and giving his students a short break in the meantime.


Hobi: (sent at 6:14 PM)
hey hyung!! I was wondering… are you doing anything tonight? I know it’s Monday but you could come over to my place so we can have some beers together, or something :D


Seokjin’s answer comes soon enough, thankfully. If it hadn’t, Hoseok wouldn’t have been able to teach in peace, and all the overthinking he would’ve done would have killed him.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 6:16 PM)
hi Hobi~

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 6:16 PM)
It sounds good! ^o^ you’re at the academy, right? Just text me when you’re home and I’ll see you there, ok?


Hobi: (sent at 6:16 PM)
okie-dokie~ see you later, then!


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 6:17 PM)
see you! ;)


Three days have gone by since Hoseok fucked Seokjin. Only three.

And yet, as soon as Hoseok opens the door of his apartment to let Seokjin in (to have “some beers together, or something”), Seokjin crashes their lips together. Or perhaps it’s Hoseok who does that? Whatever; it doesn’t matter who started it— what matters is that they’re both into it, turning into breathless, gasping messes in a matter of seconds. It’s madness.

They pull each other closer, closer, as close as possible, and the hickeys Hoseok left all over Seokjin’s skin are still there, and honestly, that’s all that Hoseok needs.

Chapter Text

Hoseok’s not new to desire.

Lust, want, or whatever you wanna call it.

He isn’t new to the feeling of hot bubbles of need coursing through his veins, clouding his vision and his judgment, and reducing his entire world to a single other person and an overwhelming need to just get off.

It’s a nice feeling, he thinks, and even more so when it’s spontaneous and unintoxicated by alcohol or other substances. It’s easy to want something or someone when you’re drunk, because you’re a more primal version of yourself and you can’t really tell whether you’re drunk with, say, wine, or if it’s lust that’s got you all lightheaded. When you’re completely sober, all the walls of your consciousness are standing tall and keeping your instincts under chains, so succumbing to the need of just being with another person and holding them as close as your skin will let you isn’t that easy – especially when there are one or more logical reasons that hold you back.

Letting go is hard, but when it happens, it can feel really, really good.

Like now.

Hoseok texted Seokjin and invited him over (only three days after fucking him for the first time) because he couldn’t shake off the memory of him. Unlike the previous time the same thing happened, where he just let the pressure and the wild thoughts accumulate until his self-restraint collapsed and he kissed Seokjin in the bathroom of their usual bar, he allowed himself to do something about what he wanted and tell Seokjin to come to his place on a Monday evening. The excuse? Having some beers together, like the bros they are.

He even threw in a cute and unassuming smiley face and all, like his mind and his body weren’t about to burst under the terribly invasive ideas he’d been getting non-stop since the moment was finally inside Seokjin (and before that, even; back when Seokjin first sucked him off and he discovered how sensitive and loud the older man could be if he was touched properly). He acted like he didn’t have the intention of getting around to doing something of a similar nature this time around as well, as soon as Seokjin crossed the threshold (if, and only if, he was on board too, of course. Mutual consent is the number one rule of every sexual encounter).

(But, at least from what Hoseok has perceived, it seems Seokjin is on board as well. The older man texted him back almost right away, and he also threw in cutesy smiley faces that have nothing to do with the filthy tongue and mind that, now Hoseok knows, hide beneath his angelic face and the aura of elegance that has always emanated from him. Hoseok has been friends with Seokjin long enough to know how to read him at this point, just like he knows Seokjin can read him with the same astounding ease. The thing is, now that they have taken a step into uncharted territory together, Hoseok feels like he knows Seokjin even more intimately, and whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, he doesn’t know yet).

At the moment, Hoseok feels like he’s about to burn up in the best of ways.

The moment he sees Seokjin standing on his doorway, dressed in his regular office clothes and with his regular silky black hair styled impeccably even at the end of a day of work, a fire goes off inside of him. It’s unexplainable. Seokjin is and has been one of his closest friends for years, and yet, the mere sight of him breaks down each and every single chain that keeps his instincts restrained. It sets his memories and his imagination ablaze, and it’s awful but thrilling at the same time.

He barely even manages a ‘hey hyung’ before he throws himself at Seokjin. He pulls him into his apartment by his blue tie, and smashes their mouths together in a heated and impatient kiss in the very entryway, among neat rows of designer sneakers.

Seokjin was more than ready for it, and he returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm as Hoseok, if the way he drops his bag and his hands reach for the younger man’s body instantaneously are anything to go by.

It’s not weird anymore.

Dare Hoseok think it, it feels right. Not ‘right’ as in ‘I’ve been waiting all my life for this and now suddenly everything makes sense’, because it’s not like that at all (it all feels unexpectedly good, yes, but it’s also terribly confusing and something Hoseok doesn’t want to give much thought to). Rather, it feels ‘right’ as in ‘I’ve never met a better kisser in my entire life; the taste and the feeling of your lips and your tongue makes my knees feel like jelly and my fingers curl’, and ‘you might be my best friend, but you make me feel so good that I can oversee that detail for as long as your mouth is against mine’.

Seokjin kicks his shoes off blindly as he steps into Hoseok’s apartment, lips sliding and tongues tangling together with loud wet sounds that are only slightly muffled by the sound of the evening news coming from the living room tv. Seokjin is fucking tall, and he’s fucking broad, and Hoseok gets a hot rush of adrenaline when he remembers that Seokjin, for as tall and broad as he is, let him fuck him just a few days ago and didn’t shy away from vocalizing his pleasure with moans and sighs and gasps and even whines of satisfaction.

Hoseok’s mind is split between memories of their past meeting and the reality of the present, where the older man is crowding him up against the wall. He curses under his breath against Hoseok’s mouth as he pushes his sweatpants down to set his cock free, and it’s only then that Hoseok’s attention focuses completely on the right here, right now.

“Damn, you’re always so impatient, hyung,” Hoseok mutters a little smugly, his eyelids falling closed and his breath catching in his throat when Seokjin’s fingers wrap themselves around his length. The touch is dry, but it feels good. Seokjin’s hand is as soft as a girl’s, but it’s way bigger than a girl’s – hell, it’s even bigger than his own hand, and he can’t help but groan in pleasure and dig his fingernails onto the flesh of the older man’s shoulders as he starts stroking him firmly.

“Psh. You texted and jumped me first, and it’s me who’s impatient? Please…” Seokjin says, and when Hoseok cracks an eye open to look at him, he sees him smirking, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in a way that is more than a little appealing (and that gives Hoseok a few ideas). He huffs, but he can’t come up with a reply because before he knows it, Seokjin is letting go of his dick. He does it so he can bring his hand up and spit into his palm, no finesse whatsoever, and the image shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“Fuck,” Hoseok whispers, but then he repeats it, louder and a little more breathlessly, when Seokjin’s saliva-wet palm wraps around his dick again. “Oh, fuck, hyung.”

Seokjin simply hums as he latches his mouth to the base of Hoseok’s neck, and he doesn’t stop moving his hand as he peppers wet kisses on every inch of skin he can reach (which is plenty, because of course Hoseok was wearing his skimpiest tank top in his whole closet).

He jerks Hoseok quickly while his mouth leaves messy trails of spit and words of appraisal all over his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, and even his ears. Hoseok’s eyes keep rolling to the back of his head with every upstroke of Seokjin’s hand and with every insistent press of his tongue to a sensitive patch of skin. His hips buck up to meet Seokjin’s touch, his fingers tangle between strands of silky black hair, and his mouth seeks Seokjin’s out so he can bury his teeth on his filthy full lips and swallow his filthy words.

Look at you. Look how much you like it. If I had known earlier that you looked this good when I touch you, perhaps I would’ve touched you sooner.

It's a lot, but it feels good.

Hoseok doesn’t want Seokjin to ever shut up, and he’s glad that he doesn’t. He just keeps the words coming, breathing them out roughly against Hoseok’s lips while he brings him closer and closer to the edge with fast movements of his hand. He only shuts up when Hoseok comes, his jaw falling slack, eyes rolling back and eyelids scrunching shut. He lets out a noise that is embarrassingly loud as his fingernails bury into the nape of Seokjin’s neck, but Seokjin shuts him up with a kiss as he keeps on stroking him, even if his hand is already covered in Hoseok’s cum.

It could be gross, but it isn’t; it’s everything but, actually.

Hoseok can’t do anything other than return Seokjin’s kiss while the intense pleasure that crashed over his body starts to evaporate. He clings to him like a lifeline, and the arm that Seokjin wrapped around his waist in a tight hug at some point after he came (hopefully not the one with the cum-coated hand) anchors him to reality.

“You look very handsome when you cum, has anyone told you that before?” Seokjin states in a voice that would be casual if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s charged with want. Perhaps in a different context Hoseok would have laughed, but as it is, all he can do is hum, tangle his fingers in Seokjin’s soft hair, and rub their noses together in an oddly intimate gesture he doesn’t stop to think about.

“I don’t know,” he replies, his mind still hazy, and Seokjin only chuckles huskily in return. “Anyway. Your turn now. Do you want my hand, or…?”

Seokjin shakes his head.

“Your mouth,” he says. Hoseok gasps softly, his knees getting all weak and shaky at the words and the idea alone.


“Please. I just… I just really want you to suck me off— I’ve been thinking about that a lot. I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Seokjin says with quick words, somewhere between desperate and demanding, and at that moment Hoseok realizes something.

(Something that seems pretty simple and uncomplicated at first sight, but that is probably more telling than he realizes).

He wants to do it.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll be honest with you, hyung,” he starts, pulling away from Seokjin so he can look up at him. He looks pretty wrecked, which makes him look pretty, period. Hoseok licks his lips and swallows thickly as he runs a hand through the older man’s hair. “It doesn’t sound bad at all right now.”

“Really?” Seokjin asks, and Hoseok nods.


He’s completely sober, and he literally just came, but all he has to do is look at Seokjin to get the gears of want turning again. He doesn’t even care he won’t get anything from sucking Seokjin off; all he wants is to drive Seokjin mad and make him see stars. He has never given a blowjob before, but he’s received plenty, so surely he can wing that— whatever. It’s kind of a big step, sucking his best friend’s dick, but he wants to do it.

Out of curiosity; out of want.

For science, you could say.

“Yeah, really,” he nods his head, determinedly. “Now, come on. Let’s move to the couch so you can get your dick out for me.”

Seokjin laughs at that, a genuine bright sound that contrasts with the heady atmosphere around them. It’s contagious, and Hoseok joins right in for a moment, but before too long they’re kissing again and the laughter dies off.

Before too long (and after Seokjin has cleaned the cum from his hand with a napkin Hoseok got on a quick run to the kitchen), they’re on the couch. Seokjin sits on the middle of it while Hoseok kneels between his legs, his heart beating loud and at a million beats per minute. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s scared or eager or what.

Maybe it’s both things, he thinks, as he unbuckles Seokjin’s belt and undoes his slacks.

He pulls the zipper down slowly, and he feels Seokjin’s hand on his hair, his fingers stroking his scalp in a way that is oddly comforting, and yup, it’s definitely both things.

He’s eager and scared, but it’s only when he has finally pulled Seokjin’s pants out of the way and his hand is wrapped around the older man’s half hard dick that he calms down a little bit.

“You good?” Seokjin asks him, his voice strained, and when Hoseok chances a look up at him, his breath catches in his throat. Fuck, he looks good from this angle.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, stroking Seokjin slowly with his hand. “Just giving myself a little mental pep talk.”

Seokjin chuckles at that as he ruffles his hair in what’s almost an affectionate gesture.

“It’s fine, Hobi. It doesn’t matter if you suck at this, I’ll understand,” he tells him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh my god,” Hoseok deadpans, rolling his eyes but struggling hard not smile. Seokjin laughs again, albeit more weakly than before. “You’re the worst, did you know that?” He asks, more to himself than to Seokjin, and before the older man has a chance to say anything (or crack another bad and potentially mood-ruining joke), Hoseok shuts him up by finally, finally getting down to business.

He starts off slow, but Seokjin’s laughter dies out almost right away. His grip on Hoseok’s hair becomes stronger as Hoseok circles his tongue around the head of his cock, and, okay, it’s really not as bad as he could’ve imagined.

He starts off slow, careful and insecure. His body is still tingling with the lingering pleasure of his orgasm all the while his mind bubbles with a billion different thoughts. That is, until Seokjin moans; then his brain short-circuits and nearly shuts down.

Seokjin becomes the only thing in it; the only thing filling up each and every single one of his brain cells.

Seokjin’s scent and Seokjin’s taste as Hoseok presses his tongue flat to his dick and takes him deeper in his mouth; the sound of Seokjin’s labored breath, of his occasional gasps, his moans, his sighs, and his words of encouragement; the feeling of Seokjin’s pubic hair against his nose, of his pretty fingers tangling in his hair, and, last but not least, of his (undeniably really fucking big) dick pressing up against the walls of his mouth and of his throat. It makes Hoseok gag a few times, and he has to pull back to catch his breath and get himself together, and although dick is definitely not the favorite thing he’s tasted in his life, it’s still not as bad as he would’ve ever imagined.

And anyway, it’s completely worth it.

“God, Hobi,” Seokjin moans, his hips bucking upwards weakly and his fingers burying in his hair a little more forcefully. His name— his stupid nickname sounds so good in Seokjin’s breathless, pleasured voice, which is almost wrong. Seokjin has called him that for years, ever since they met each other in their microeconomics class in college, but never has it sounded as sweet as it does right now. “You’re doing so well, you feel so good— Jesus, you look so good like this, Hobi—“

It’s Hoseok who moans then, embarrassingly loud. He’s on his knees and choking on his best friend’s dick (despite both of them being —allegedly— straight), and he literally just moaned at a handful of words muttered in the heat of the moment, even if he just came a few minutes ago.

Whatever Seokjin is doing to him, Hoseok doesn’t know if he wants it to stop right now, or to go on forever.

He opens his eyes and chances a look up at Seokjin, his lips still wrapped around the head of his dick, and he finds Seokjin was already looking at him, a focused frown of pleasure on his attractive features. A powerful shudder of satisfaction shoots through Hoseok’s nervous system when their eyes meet, but he soon closes them again because, shit, his eyes are tearing up, and that’s embarrassing, but also it feels so good, so unexpectedly right—

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Seokjin doesn’t last much longer.

He warns him that he’s going to come, like the nice guy he’s always been, but Hoseok could tell when his orgasm was approaching before he even vocalized it because his fingers started gripping more insistently at his hair, his thighs shaking, and his hips bucking more frequently against the hand Hoseok had placed over them to keep him from moving.

So, Hoseok supposes, there’s no excuse for what he does.

It’s definitely a conscious decision of his.

He doesn’t pull away.

He had more than enough time to pull away, to pull his mouth away from the older man, and make him come using his hand, or something like that.

Even Seokjin insists, his voice a wrecked mess, that he’s about to come, that he’s really fucking close, fuck, Hobi, Hoseok, I’m gonna come, Hobi, fuck—

But Hoseok doesn’t pull away.

Hoseok doesn’t pull away, so when Seokjin finally comes, he does so inside of Hoseok’s mouth. His orgasm seems to hit him hard, if the way the muscles of his legs tense, his fingers bury themselves into Hoseok’s scalp, and the way he chokes on a muted gasp of pleasure is anything to go by. Hoseok nearly chokes at the gooey feeling and the bitter taste of cum, but before he can stop to think about it, he scrunches his eyes shut and swallows it all. He keeps on stroking Seokjin’s dick slowly, almost carefully, as he pulls away.

Only then, after he’s pulled away, his mind’s boundaries expand again and Seokjin stops being the center of his universe, and only then he starts to regain consciousness of himself and the world around him.

He realizes that his throat hurts, his jaw hurts, and his knees hurt; his mouth tastes weird and the corners of his lips sting like a bitch; his hand is still wrapped around Seokjin’s dick; the TV is still on, but this time there is an American movie playing instead of the news.

The world reappears, but that doesn’t make Seokjin go away. Not at all.

Seokjin is still very much there, struggling to catch his breath, and Hoseok watches his chest rise and fall while he tucks his dick back in his boxers and zips up his trousers. He can still taste him on his tongue, and he can’t help but lick his lips as he looks up at the older man’s face and props an arm over one of his legs.

“So… Good?” Hoseok asks, smirking when he sees Seokjin open his eyes and look down at him.

He hums and nods, but his lips curve upwards as well, in a quite cocky manner.

“Well, I mean… it was nothing worth writing home about, but definitely not bad for a first time,” he says, and Hoseok smacks his knee in return in mock offense. Seokjin just laughs in return. “Nah, it was good. Really, very good—” he goes on, but he stops himself all of a sudden, his eyes widening and his smirk disappearing. “Oh, hey! Wait a minute, did you— did you swallow?”

Hoseok has to fight the blush that is threatening to reach his cheeks as he nods.

“I, uh. I guess I did, yeah.”

“Wow, that’s…” Seokjin starts but he trails off, chuckling and shaking his head in disbelief. He reaches for Hoseok’s hair and strokes it again like he’s been doing for the past few minutes, when Hoseok’s head was between his legs. “That’s really gay.”

Hoseok wheezes and rolls his eyes at that, but only in amusement.

“Oh my god— a simple thank you would’ve been enough!”

“Thank you, Hobi,” Seokjin says, almost solemnly. “That was really hot. And gay.”

“Jesus— hyung, just shut up,” Hoseok says, his blush intensifying, but his smile growing. He chuckles as he gets up from the floor, but before he can think of pulling away, Seokjin’s hands find and settle on the sides of his body at the same time as their eyes meet.

Perhaps it’s the magnetism that emanates from them—from Seokjin’s hands and Seokjin’s eyes—, or perhaps it’s something else –something that Hoseok can’t name or put his finger on–, but something makes Hoseok want to move closer. Something makes him put his hands behind Seokjin’s neck and allow himself to climb onto the older man’s lap, until he’s settled comfortably over his thighs. Something makes him unable to look elsewhere, at anything that isn’t Seokjin’s eyes, Seokjin’s lips, Seokjin’s tongue as it darts out and licks over his own lips in a way that is subtle but effective.

“I’d rather you shut me up, to be honest,” Seokjin says in a low voice that sounds terribly flirty and that shouldn’t have Hoseok’s nerves tingling in excitement. One of Seokjin’s hands remains on Hoseok’s waist, holding him firmly even through the thin fabric of his tank top, but the other one reaches up to his face, and when it settles there, Hoseok’s eyelids flutter for a moment.

He hums softly, leaning into the hand cupping his jaw and moving closer, until their chests are touching.

“I can do that,” he says.

After that, Seokjin pulls him in, and Hoseok lets it happen.

He parts his lips out of his own free will, and he closes what little distance is left between them so that he can kiss Seokjin. The older man hums, kissing back right away and even guiding the kiss with the hand he has on Hoseok’s jaw. He licks into Hoseok’s mouth in an almost impatient way, and it feels hot.

It feels really, really hot to have Seokjin tasting his mouth when it only tastes of his cum, and it feels really, really hot to have him hold him against his body the way he’s doing it— firmly, fingers burying into the flesh of his waist, while at the same time he cups his jaw and holds him in place with impressive yet carefully measured strength.

But perhaps the hottest thing is that, for as intense as it is, this kiss isn’t really leading to anything. It’s just for the hell of it. Rather than a build-up to something else, it’s a come-down; it’s hot and firm, deep and wet, but it’s also slow. It’s careful, almost. Every touch of Seokjin’s tongue against his, every slide of his lips, and every nip of his teeth seems premeditated and well thought of, and it’s the same with the hands that are wrapped around his hips and holding his face in place.

Even when Hoseok pulls away a little bit in order to catch his breath, the kiss goes on; Seokjin chases after him and buries his teeth on his lower lip. He tugs playfully, and it makes Hoseok laugh.

“Let me breathe, God— hyung!” he lets out, but it’s he who resumes the kiss by enthusiastically pressing their mouths together again and choking the laughter bubbling inside of Seokjin’ chest.

The tv keeps on playing in the back, but just like before, Hoseok’s brain is so saturated by Seokjin that he would have no idea what the characters on the screen are talking about even if he could understand them.

It’s almost dangerous.

For a split moment, Hoseok feels the need to ask Seokjin about… this. About the meaning of all of this. About Seokjin’s hold on his body, about the taste of his cum in his mouth, and about the hand that is firmly but gently stroking the skin of his cheek. About the fact that they’re kissing just because and that it’s making his world spin and his heart beat double time.

But he doesn’t.

He’s not that stupid.

The question dies in his brain before it can even form properly, and after the kiss dies it’s Seokjin who speaks first. His voice sounds rough, but it feels like a gentle gust against Hoseok’s spit slick lips.

“So, about those beers…”

Hoseok laughs at that, and all of a sudden, almost so quickly that it gives Hoseok whiplash, the world falls back into place.

“Right, the beers,” he says, squeezing the fabric of Seokjin’s dress shirt in his hands one last time before he climbs off his lap, more than a little bit dazed but trying to act cool. “I’ll be right back.”


“Do you think you spend more time deciding what to watch on Netflix, or actually watching shit on Netflix?”

Hoseok snorts at Seokjin’s question as he takes a gulp from his can of beer. The older man is going through title after title, taking between one and three seconds to decide that he’s not interested and moving on to the next one. Hoseok is sitting down next to him, sitting on one of his bent legs, close enough to Seokjin that the warmth of their bodies is mingling and fizzing in the almost nonexistent distance between them.

It’s not that late, but Hoseok feels very sleepy.

Perhaps it’s the lingering effect of the orgasm he had only a few minutes ago, courtesy of the man –the man— sitting next to him. Perhaps it’s the fact that he had a long day of work and that there is another one waiting for him tomorrow.

Perhaps it’s just that Seokjin is right next to him, his body radiating a cozy and comfortable kind of warmth, his shoulder bumping occasionally against Hoseok’s, and it feels nice.

They’ve been doing this for years.

Meeting up at either of their places to watch movies.

A few years back, before they graduated and got jobs and adulthood really started happening for them, they met up in one of their dorms in college. They lived in the same building, just two floors apart, but they always went to Seokjin’s room, because Seokjin’s roommate was Yoongi, and Hoseok’s roommate was an annoying fuckboy who hardly ever cleaned after himself.

(And no, Hoseok wasn’t a fuckboy; he was only fuckboyish, and only for a while).

It’s funny, because Seokjin and Yoongi didn’t exactly get along at first. They were decent human beings around each other, but it seems they never went beyond ‘hello’, ‘good night’, and ‘the showers are almost out of water, I’d hurry up if I were you’ during their entire first year as roommates. Hoseok befriended Yoongi first, during his first year, and then, on second year, he befriended Seokjin when he sat down next to him on the first day of the semester at a microeconomics course. Hoseok had no idea the two of them were roommates until one day Hoseok went to Seokjin’s room to return a jacket he borrowed from him and it was Yoongi who opened the door.

He supposes that’s how things started for all of them.

Yoongi met Namjoon when Hoseok was on his third year at a gay club named Honey he went to with a younger classmate of his, Jimin, who was friends (with benefits) with this other guy, Taehyung. Then Taehyung met Jungkook, and slowly but surely, they all became friends.

Or, well, more than friends, on some occasions.

Seokjin and Hoseok were always there though, always in the midst of the gay dramas that their friends went through every now and then.

Hoseok dated this one girl, Minah, for the longest time, and while she didn’t have a problem with Hoseok’s friends (though, if he stops to think about it, perhaps she did have a problem with them and Hoseok’s only realizing it now), she didn’t like the idea of Hoseok going out to gay clubs with them, no matter how —allegedly— straight he was; no matter how —honestly— in love with her he was.

Hoseok respected that, so he never went out with the other guys, although sometimes, more than once, he would’ve liked to, if only to see how it all was.

The good thing was that he always had Seokjin to hang out with (when he wasn’t out with his own girlfriend of the time or accompanying their gay friends on their gay adventures despite not being gay himself –something that Hoseok is starting to be a little suspicious of now). They met up to watch movies at Seokjin’s and Yoongi’s room, or they went out to drink together at a bar near campus, sometimes by themselves, sometimes with their girlfriends.

They’ve been friends for years. They’ve sat down on couches with cans of beer for years.

And yet… Things feel so different now.

Not wrong, not bad; just different.

Kind of like he’s getting to know Seokjin all over again, and it’s maybe, sort of, kind of exciting and scary.

“Neither,” Hoseok answers, finally. “I don’t even know why I have Netflix. I hardly ever use it! I’ve always been more of a YouTube video kind of guy. Watching videos of people dancing entertains me way more than movies.”

Seokjin hums at that, nodding in understanding. He doesn’t stop scrolling through the gruesome titles of the movies under the horror section as he turns his head to look at Hoseok, and Hoseok is quick to meet his eyes. The distance between their faces isn’t much at all, not more than a few centimeters given how close they are sitting to each other, and Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s too close to comfort and he should pull away, or if he isn’t close enough.

“You wanna watch dance videos instead?” Seokjin asks, tilting his head and rising an eyebrow in curiosity. “They’re fun. I don’t mind either way.”

It takes a second too long for Hoseok to look away from Seokjin’s eyes and shake his head.

“Nah,” he says as casually as possible, looking back at the screen and leaning back against the couch, putting some distance between them. “Just put on any movie. As long as it’s funny I’m on board.”

“Alright,” Seokjin nods, and Hoseok sees him smile and chuckle through the corner of his eyes as he imitates his movement and he too leans more comfortably against the backrest of the couch, causing their bodies to be pressed together a little more than they were before. Which is… Which is alright, Hoseok supposes. Whatever. Guess he won’t get the distance he was seeking after all. That’s alright. Seokjin is warm, and lately the weather has been getting colder, so it’s alright. The inside of the apartment is warm enough, sure, but not nearly as warm as Seokjin.

Seokjin chooses a random American comedy movie that he himself hasn’t watched, which is alright too.

What isn’t alright, is that Hoseok still can’t stop being hyperaware of Seokjin’s body against his. Even as the movie begins, and even as Hoseok’s eyelids get a little droopy because he’s never really understood American humor, he can’t stop thinking about the warmth that Seokjin’s body keeps on irradiating like a furnace, and how much he would like to get closer to him. Or, well, even closer, because he’s pretty close to him already.

Not close enough.

He bites his lip as an intense battle breaks out inside of him.

His head tells him to stay put, or, even better, to get away from Seokjin. Kick him out. His mind is already confused enough by everything that has been going on during the last couple of weeks, so distance is what he needs. He already got the orgasm he was looking for when he texted him in the first place; what even is he hanging out with Seokjin for? They’re friends, surely he will understand if he kicks him out.

His body, though.

What Hoseok’s body wants is to lean closer, to rest his head on Seokjin’s broad shoulder, and to fall asleep there. He wants Seokjin’s arm wrapped around him, and to have the warmth of his body lull him to sleep. His body, it’s getting more and more obvious, wants Seokjin’s body. He still hasn’t been able to shake off the feeling of Seokjin coming around of him when they had full-on, actual, anal gay sex with each other just a few days ago, not to mention the way more recent feeling of Seokjin coming in his mouth some forty minutes ago.

But the thing that has been haunting him the most is the feeling that he wants more of that. More of all of that.

Does that make him gay?

The battle between the two sides of him is getting intense, and his teeth are biting so strongly on his lower lip that he’s about to make himself bleed, but before that happens, and before his head can split in two, Seokjin’s arm finds his way around Hoseok’s shoulders and he speaks up.

“Hey, uh… Is it… Is it okay if I cuddle you a little bit?” The doubt in his voice is undeniable, but it works like a charm on unravelling the knots of apprehension that had formed inside of Hoseok’s chest.

He scoffs before he answers, even if he can’t stop a smile from growing on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he says, trying not to sound like he’s been questioning a bunch of things he doesn’t want to look into. Not yet. Not ever. He even turns his head, grinning and all, only to find that Seokjin was looking at him already, a smile already on his lips.

At that, the older man’s arm wraps more fully around his shoulders, and out of his own free will, or out of instinct, Hoseok leans closer to him.

“I don’t know. Now that we’ve, you know, fucked around, I want to be sure if it’s still okay to do things like that. I wouldn’t want things to get weird; you’re still my best friend, after all... And also, it’s always important to ask first,” Seokjin answers, and Hoseok breathes out as he lets his head rest against Seokjin’s shoulder like he’s been wanting to do for the past minutes. It feels good. It feels great. It feels better than it ever did before.

Because they have cuddled before, plenty of times at that, but never has Hoseok felt like this while doing it.

It feels great, but also, it feels strange.

“You must not know me if you think I’d ever turn down a cuddling session, hyung. Who cares we’ve fucked around?” Hoseok tells him, and when Seokjin laughs, Hoseok feels his breath gusting against his hair.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. Who cares?”

The last thing Hoseok sees before he closes his eyes, is Adam Sandler’s face on his TV screen, which isn’t exactly nice. However, the last thing he feels after he closes his eyes, but before his consciousness starts drifting away, is Seokjin’s fingers in his hair. He strokes his brown (and partially damaged) hair gently, slowly, letting his blunt fingernails trace against his scalp in a way that is far too pleasing. That simple touch is all it takes for Hoseok to give into the drowsiness and fall asleep, warm and comfortable against Seokjin’s body.

He has no idea how much time passes until he wakes up, but when he does, the movie has already finished and Seokjin and his warmth are moving away.

Seokjin is moving to get up from the couch, but Hoseok frown and stops him by reaching out for his arm and pulling him towards himself before he can even stand up.

“Stop, don’t go,” he tells him, which is kind of dumb if he stops to think about it, but the filters of his brain and his speech aren’t working. It’s a good thing he’s far too sleepy to stop to think about anything at all.

You stop, I have to go home,” Seokjin whispers, laughing softly, but letting Hoseok pull him back towards the couch. “I have to work early tomorrow, and so do you.”

Hoseok simply hums, but he doesn’t dignify him with an answer.

Hooobi,” Seokjin insists, still whispering, but this time in an amused sing song voice. Hoseok feels him shuffling on the couch, and something inside of himself decides to be a little braver. He lets go of Seokjin’s arm, but only so that he can drag his palm over his body until his hand is resting on the crook of Seokjin’s neck, his fingers partially dipped beneath the collar of his dress shirt.

“No,” Hoseok returns, childishly, which makes Seokjin chuckle again, but next thing Hoseok knows, there is something bumping against his nose, and when he opens his eyes he realizes— it’s Seokjin’s own nose.

“Let me go, come on, I’m sleepy too,” the older man whispers, his words gusting softly against Hoseok’s lips. Seokjin’s eyes are closed, but Hoseok’s are opened now, so he can see.

See both, how close Seokjin is, but also see the turmoil that breaks out inside of himself again.

It all has his breath hitching, his lips parting unconsciously when Seokjin’s head tilts a little bit, as if looking for the perfect kiss angle.

Hoseok doesn’t know if he wants to move in or pull away; if he wants to grab Seokjin’s face and kiss him the way they kissed before, when Hoseok’s tongue tasted of Seokjin, or if he wants to push him away and tell him to never come back again.

But luckily, he doesn’t have to take that decision.

It’s Seokjin who does.

All of a sudden, and a little unexpectedly, Seokjin turns his head away and clears his throat, as if he was hit by an abrupt wave of realization and regret (not that Hoseok could blame him or even judge him if it was so). He moves one hand from where it was resting on Hoseok’s thigh so that he can cover his mouth, but Hoseok only realizes that the older man’s hand was on his leg when the lingering warmth gets replaced by emptiness.

“Alright,” Seokjin speaks, and this time his voice is louder than the gentle whisper it was before. Hoseok watches him shake his head and run both hands over his face before he finally stands up. This time, Hoseok doesn’t try to stop him. “Alright. I really have to go.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replies, his voice thick with sleepiness, and maybe also with something else. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he even wants to know. “Yeah, you better go. We need to sleep.”

“I still have to drive home,” Seokjin says as he stretches his arms over his head, a loud yawn ripping through his body. Hoseok doesn’t want to watch him do that; doesn’t want to watch the way his spine curves and his chest widens, nor the way the buttons of his dress shirt tense and look like they might pop at any given moment.

“Ouch, sucks to be you, hyung. Good luck, though. Get home safely, and all that.”

“Thank you. Should I just…?” Seokjin starts, and when Hoseok looks at him he sees him gesturing vaguely at the door. Hoseok supposes he could show him to the door, but he doesn’t trust himself to do it. He doesn’t trust himself not to do something dumb like kiss Seokjin again, like he almost did just now.

“Do you really need me to take you to the door?” he asks, trying to sound amused; like he’s making fun of Seokjin for even suggesting such a dumb thing.

“I guess not, then” Seokjin clicks his tongue and shrugs. “Anyway, it was fun today. See you soon, bro.”

“Yeah, hyung. See you.”



“This is going to be my first winter as a thirty-year-old man, and let me tell you, things aren’t looking up.”

Hoseok’s first reaction is to laugh, which results in him nearly choking on the kimchi fried rice he was chewing.

“I’m serious, don’t laugh!” Yoongi insists, his brow furrowing and his lower lip jutting out slightly. “Today I didn’t want to get out of bed.”

“Do you ever want to get out of bed, though? Be honest,” Hoseok jabs, raising an amused eyebrow at him.

“Well, no, but I do it anyway. It’s just… It’s really getting harder to do it every day, and I’m sure that it’s because I’m old.”

Hoseok laughs, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in amusement.

“You’re not old, you’re just dramatic. You’re only twenty-eight internationally, come on. Are you seriously going through your mid-life crisis now?”

“Maybe I am, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at me. It’s a serious thing,” Yoongi says, all serious at first, but then he ends up laughing at himself. “Nah, but all jokes aside, I really am getting older. My hairline is starting to recede.”

“Your hairline’s been receding since I met you, hyung, no offense,” Hoseok points out.

“Yeah, but Namjoon bought me a hair-loss shampoo. Can you believe that? It’s happening for real this time. I’m gonna lose all my hair and Namjoon is going to have to deal with an unattractive egg until the end of his days.”

Hoseok laughs again, and Yoongi laughs along with him, not entirely convinced by his own melodramatic words. Laughing is definitely the thing he does the most whenever he and Yoongi get together, so he tries to hang out with him as often as they can. The telecommunications company he works at isn’t far away from the entertainment company Yoongi works at, so every now and then, when Yoongi isn’t too busy writing and composing hit tracks for idol groups and tv dramas, they meet each other for lunch in nearby restaurants. Yoongi is busy more often than not, but when they do get to hang out, Hoseok always laughs until his stomach aches.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. I’m sure Namjoon would find you the most attractive man in the universe even if you really looked like an egg, which I can’t personally understand, but whatever floats his boat, right?” Hoseok says, and this time it’s Yoongi who rolls his eyes.

“Idiot,” he laughs, balling up a paper napkin and throwing it at Hoseok. It lands harmlessly right next to his plate, though.

After that, they continue eating in relative silence. There is the current hit song of the moment blasting from the speakers of the make-up store from across the street, though, so it isn’t exactly quiet, but a while goes by like that before Yoongi speaks up again.

“So,” he says simply, and Hoseok looks up at him with an eyebrow raised. There is an enigmatic look on his face, somewhere between knowing and expecting, and suddenly Hoseok fears for his life.

“So?” he echoes the elder in a questioning tone, already dreading whatever it is that he might say to him.

“So. How are things going in the love department? Are you seeing anyone?”

Hoseok almost chokes again. He has to smack his chest with his fist and drown himself with his glass of water not to die, but choking aside, he really, really fears for his life now.

“Sorry,” he says, and he hates how funny and weak his voice sounds. He scoffs again, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Sorry— you caught me off guard. Why are you asking that?”

Hoseok doesn’t usually do things behind Yoongi’s back. He’s been friends with him since he even met Seokjin, after all. They laugh and have a great time when they are together, sure, but they also talk about important things. They know each other as well as they know themselves, and although Hoseok has been very careful about this thing that has been going on with Seokjin, he’s suddenly scared that, shit— what if it’s written all over his face that he and Seokjin had sex? Or what if Seokjin told him something? He doubts it, but still. Still. He’s scared. He’s scared that Yoongi can tell.

Does that kind of thing—like sleeping with one of your best friends— show on one person’s face? Hoseok is pretty sure that he was a smiley mess the day after he lost his virginity, and apparently science says that sex makes your skin glow and your hair silkier. Perhaps Yoongi can see that. Perhaps Yoongi is suspicious because he can see that Hoseok looks like he’s been getting laid, but he hasn’t spilled the beans about it yet, and Hoseok always spills the beans about his sex life, and being the observant little shit he is, he’s probably suspicious of Seokjin too. He’s best friends with the two of them, after all; maybe he connected the dots at some point.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at him, but more than suspicious, he seems amused.

“Because a girl started working at the studio some time ago, and she seems like the kind of girl you like. Her name is Gayeon. She’s cool, she’s pretty, and she’s crazy talented, too.”

At that, Hoseok relaxes again, but not too much. He blinks in confusion.

“Oh. Oh, really?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. And she’s single. I’m sure you’ll like her. Maybe I could talk to her about you if you want. Arrange a blind date, or something cute like that for you guys to meet each other. But for that I need to know if you’re getting any or not. If you’re sleeping around, then I don’t want you to meet her. She’s too good for you.”

Hoseok scoffs at that, frowning a little in offense.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I’m not sleeping around, hyung. I’m…” He stops for a moment, meditating his words and deciding in a split second to lie to Yoongi’s face pretty much for the first time in years. “I’m not seeing anyone, actually, and it’s been… a while since I last hooked up with anyone.”

Yoongi looks surprised at that.

“Oh, for real? Then in that case, I could try to set you up with her. She’s a producer, but I think she dances too, cause this one time…” Yoongi keeps on talking about the new girl at his company, but Hoseok kind of tunes him out, and something happens, then.

Something that the Hoseok of approximately three weeks ago would have punched him in the face for.

Something that even the Hoseok of right here, right now, doesn’t really understand, but that comes off as his first instinctive reaction to everything that Yoongi is telling him.

He turns Yoongi’s offer down.

“Hyung, hyung, hold up—,” he interrupts, his nose wrinkling a little as he shrugs, metallic chopsticks playing around with a stray rice on his plate. Yoongi stops talking, so Hoseok goes on. “She sounds cool, and all, and I really appreciate your efforts of trying help me find a girlfriend, but I’m not… I don’t know. I’m not really looking to date at the moment, you know? So… Yeah. I think I’m going to pass.”

“Oh? Really?” Yoongi says, his eyes widening in surprise.

Hoseok just nods as confidently as he can, even if his logical mind is about to start throwing hands at his instincts.

“Yeah, really.”

The older man hums, then, and a little frown of confusion appears on his face. “Okay… That’s fine. I mean. You’re allowed to say no, I guess, but… Let me get this clear. You’re not looking to date, but you’re also not sleeping around?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Yoongi nods his head at that, humming thoughtfully.

“I see. Well. That’s… valid, I guess. Are you for real right now, or are you bullshitting me?”

Hoseok frowns, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. “Yes, I’m for real? Hyung, are you trying to say you don’t think I’m able to go for a long time without getting laid or dating anyone? Is that it?”

“Oh, no, it’s not that at all,” Yoongi assures him, but if he didn’t look suspicious before, he sure does now. Hoseok wants to shoot himself on the foot. “I’m sure you’re able to. It’s just interesting that you would voluntarily choose to stay celibate for a long time when you could not be, that’s all. Hoseokie, is there anything going on that you haven’t told me about? Are you thinking of becoming a monk and retiring to the mountains, or something like that?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, but he prays to all the divinities out there that Yoongi isn’t seeing right through him at the moment.

“No, hyung. I’m just fine like this, that’s all. I’m focusing on the dance studio, and on myself, and I don’t really have the energy to go around looking for someone to date,” he says, trying to convince Yoongi, but also, trying to convince himself.

The Hoseok of only three weeks ago would’ve probably jumped to say yes, but right here, right now, the prospect of going out with a girl he doesn’t know, of getting to know her from scratch, of going through the entire process of first dates doesn’t sound appealing to him at all. Not to mention, it’s not like he isn’t getting any, because he is. He has no idea what it is that is going on between Seokjin and him at the moment, but since it’s obvious that they aren’t going to fool around and push the boundaries of their sexualities forever, he has to make the most of it for as long as it lasts.

He wants to make the most of it for as long as it lasts. He’s comfortable with Seokjin. He wouldn’t go so far to say that he’s attracted to him, but their last few encounters are undeniable evidence that they have a great deal of sexual chemistry and compatibility on top of their close-knitted friendship. He has fun fooling around with him, but it’s not like that means much. He’s still not gay. He just gets a little horny when Seokjin is around, but honestly, who doesn’t? This weird, gay friends-with-benefits situation surely won’t last forever.

“If it happens, then I want it to be a spontaneous thing, you know?” Hoseok goes on, to convince Yoongi further; to have a more consistent reason as to why he’s refusing. “Blind dates are kinda… forced. The atmosphere in them isn’t very good unless you click with the other person since the beginning. If I’m going to be with someone, I want them to be someone I have natural… chemistry with. But, anyway, who knows? Maybe some time in the future I might take up on your offer.”

Yoongi hums and raises an eyebrow at him, still suspicious, but he seems to let him be. He nods in understanding and he shrugs, then, picking the last piece of now-cold tteokbokki from the dish in the center of the table and squeezing it with his metallic chopsticks.

“Alright. If she hasn’t found a boyfriend by the time you’re done enjoying your celibacy and you decide you’d like to meet her, then sure, man. Ring me up then,” he says before popping the rice cake into his mouth.



Friday evening is a bit of a disappointment, but only at first.

When Hoseok sends a text to his friends’ group chat asking if anybody is up for drinks, all he gets are rejections.

Jungkook and Taehyung have a movie date. Jimin has a blind date with a friend of a friend on Taehyung’s, some guy named Taemin. Yoongi and Namjoon went to Daegu and are going to stay with Yoongi’s family until Sunday.

And as for Seokjin…

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 7:18 PM)
My boss is taking our department out for dinner in Gangnam :( sorry


Hoseok pouts at the screen of his phone when he reads his friend’s answer, and he types a quick, short, but hopefully effective reply.


Hobi: (sent at 7:18 PM)


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 7:18 PM)
:( I really can’t miss it, I’m sorry

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 7:18 PM)
But, hey, maybe we could hang out afterwards? It’s just a dinner, so I don’t think it’ll last too long. Would you like that? ^^


Hoseok’s fingers freeze at that, and a million of images go through his brain at once.

They could hang out afterwards, yes.

They very much should hang out afterwards.

They texted back and forth throughout the week, sometimes touching on the subject about seeing each other again at either of their apartments but never able to do it for one reason or the other. Hoseok is sure that they were about to start sexting on Wednesday night after Seokjin texted him that he had just come out of the shower and was bored, but then his phone ran out of battery and when he logged back on, the mood had already died.

It’s been four days since the last time they saw each other (and touched each other), but already Hoseok is starting to get impatient, and the fact that Seokjin is the one proposing that they meet up and hang out (just the two of them) as soon as he’s done with his work dinner seems like a really good omen.


Hobi: (sent at 7:19 PM)
oooh really?

Hobi: (sent at 7:19 PM)
I’d like that! you can just come over to my place. that way we won’t have to spend any money ;)

Hobi: (sent at 7:19 PM)
you’re the best hyung :( the only real friend I have left, thank you for not leaving me behind :’( ♡


Seokjin answers with an ‘I could never leave you behind, bro’, a winky face, and a heart emoji of his own, to which their friends reply to by, of course, making fun of them. They say stuff along the lines of ‘I’ve always wondered what straight guys do for fun when they're by themselves’, ‘no picking girls up? I thought that bros who pick up girls together stay together?’, and ‘that’s gay, even for us’.

But that’s alright.

All it does is prove that, thanks to some kind of miracle, neither of them has the remotest idea of what’s been going on between them; of what’s going to go down when Seokjin’s dinner is over and they’re finally alone.

In just a matter of hours, all the disappointment that Hoseok felt when he first texted the group chat has completely disappeared.

Seokjin gets to his place late, a few minutes after eleven in the evening, but he has a few bags of snacks with him. It’s a nice gesture, if Hoseok may say, but it’s still not as good as the sight of Seokjin himself. The older man’s cheeks are rosy, probably an effect of driving around with the heater of his car turned on. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, his tie is slightly loosened up, and his lips are a little redder than normal, like he spent the past few hours chewing on them.

Ever since Hoseok knew that Seokjin would come over after his dinner, his stomach started turning uncomfortably, tying up into tight knots of simultaneous excitement, anticipation, and uneasiness. It makes no sense that he’s so excited to see him, but at the same time, how could he not be excited?

A part of himself wonders if they’re going to fool around again, another part hopes (or that they do, and the third part wants to kill the other two.

It’s uncontrollable, though.

Even when he jumps into the shower to try and tame his excess of pheromones (and get himself all clean, too, because he remembers all those gay sex information websites stressing how important hygiene is, and if what he thinks is going to happen will to happen, then he better be clean), he finds himself unable to escape the memories and imagined scenarios of Seokjin that invade him.

When he opens the door for Seokjin, it seems for a while that they’re both more under control than the previous time, but that doesn’t last long.

One moment they’re at the entryway of the apartment and Hoseok is fetching Seokjin a pair of slippers while they talk about how Seokjin’s dinner went, but the next they’re in the kitchen, and Hoseok is trapped between the counter and Seokjin’s body, their mouths smashed together and their tongues sliding hotly against each other’s while they kiss impatiently.

The bag of snacks is left abandoned over the counter, but Seokjin tastes way better than anything he’s ever had to eat so far in his life. He tastes sweet and expensive, like good wine and whipped cream, but there isn’t any finesse in the way he moves his mouth against Hoseok’s; in the way he sucks on his tongue and bites on his lips impatiently while his hands slip beneath his tank top to run over his body.

Like the previous time, Hoseok is wearing the comfortable clothes he wears to his dance lessons and to chill at home, while Seokjin is clad in his smart office clothes, which is why Hoseok gets shaken to the core when Seokjin pushes his legs open and presses his thigh against his crotch through the worn fabric of his sweats.

“Fuck, that’s good—,” he groans, the kiss breaking when his head tosses backwards out of reflex, in response to the sudden pleasure that shoots through him.

“You like it?” Seokjin asks, which is kind of stupid because Hoseok obviously likes it. He just said he did, and Seokjin can probably feel him getting hard at record speed in his sweats. But he can’t bring himself to find it stupid; not when Seokjin’s voice sounds as deep and rough as it does; not when Seokjin’s mouth leaves his own lips but only to start kissing the exposed flesh of his shoulders, his collarbones, and his neck.

“I do,” Hoseok says instead of something witty or mean. His hands are traveling over Seokjin’s chest, reveling on the feeling of his muscles tensing through his probably expensive shirt. Unlike last time, where they let the heat of the moment get the best of them and they didn’t even undress each other before making each other cum, this time around Hoseok doesn’t waste time undoing the buttons of Seokjin’s shirt and exposing all the skin that he craves for a reason that’s beyond him. Seokjin doesn’t stop pressing his thigh against his half-dark dick, and the sensation has his head spinning, his hips rocking against the elder’s leg just so he can feel more. “God, what’s gotten into you, hyung? Did you miss me? Is that it? Were you thinking about me at that dinner of yours?”

“Hmm, maybe, but I won’t say anything until you admit that you were thinking about me, though,” Seokjin says as he scrapes his teeth over the skin of Hoseok’s throat in a way that has shivers running down Hoseok’s back. However, he rocks his own hips against Seokjin’s and makes it so that his own leg is pressed up against the older man’s dick. He finds that he’s also half-hard, and his imagination flies.

He groans again, loud and unashamed— and fuck, this is so unlike him. Hoseok has no idea what it is, but for some reason, and since this all started, he’s starting to feel like a whole different person when he’s around Seokjin. Sleeping with girls, he was never noisy, never too vocal, never too openly needy or desperate. At the moment, though, he’s finding that he can’t not be noisy, vocal, and openly needy. He’s not used to it at all, but it’s thrilling to allow himself to unravel and react to pleasure in a way that he isn’t used to.

So maybe that is the reason he craves Seokjin. It’s not that he’s gay all of a sudden, because he’s not. He hasn’t started fantasizing about famous actors or notorious male heartthrobs. He hasn’t watched any gay porn yet. He just likes the effect that Seokjin in particular has on him; even if he’s a guy, and even if he’s one of his best friends. That’s all there is to it. The arrangement isn’t ideal, but whatever, it is what it is. It’s not going to last forever, so he better make the most of it while he can.

“Maybe I was,” Hoseok admits, at last, when his fingers reach the middle of Seokjin’s shirt, the upper half of the buttons undone but the bottom ones still covering his skin from sight. He smirks upwards at Seokjin, but almost all his bravado evaporates when he sees the look on his friend’s eyes.

His eyes are narrowed, but his pupils are blown. His jaw is locked, and there is a subtle blush blooming from the middle of his exposed chest, covering his neck, his cheeks, and the tips of his ears. It could be cute if it wasn’t hot; it makes Hoseok want to taste his skin, to drag his tongue and his lips over it to feel how warm he is.

“Turn around,” the older man says, and fuck, he sounds commanding. Hoseok’s knees get weak and his stomach flip, but he does as he’s told because he’s eager to see where this is going; to see what seems to be a different side of Seokjin.

When the older man crowds him up against the counter again Hoseok can’t help but groan. He isn’t getting nearly as much direct stimulation, but his head is still spinning at the feeling of Seokjin’s half-hard dick pressing up against his ass, and of his hands tracing over his body before he removes them from underneath his shirt so that he can hold him in place, one hand on his hips and the other on the small of his back.

Hoseok has never felt so powerless during sex, and they haven’t even gotten to the sex part. All Seokjin is doing is hold him against the counter with the impressive strength that Hoseok always knew he held within him but that he never really used to his advantage, but now that he is using it, Hoseok wants more. It’s a nice change to everything he’s used to; one that he never thought he would get to experience. He has the feeling that if it wasn’t Seokjin behind him but some random attractive guy he met at a bar he wouldn’t be letting go as easily. But it is Seokjin, and he would trust Seokjin with his entire life. He’s not afraid.

Even as Seokjin rocks his hips against his so that his dick rubs against his ass through the fabric of their pants, and even as he grabs his shirt and pulls it lower so he can press wet kisses to the top of Hoseok’s back, just below the nape of his neck. Even as he hears Seokjin murmur something about how he told him the last time that when they fucked again it would be Hoseok on the receiving end, and how he can wait to finally be inside of him. Even as Seokjin’s hands reach lower, for Hoseok’s ass first but then moving to the front so he can touch him through his sweats. Even then, Hoseok’s not afraid.

All he is, is eager and turned on.

All he can do, is reach behind him with his hands; grab Seokjin by the hips as best as he can and pull him closer, making his dick press more insistently against his ass.

He’s far gone, so far gone, completely caught up in the feeling of Seokjin grinding against him while he kisses his neck and cups his dick through his clothes, that he almost has a heart attack when his phone starts ringing loudly in the pocket of his sweats, the sudden marimba tune and the strong vibration against his leg nearly making him swallow his own tongue.

“Fuck, no, why—” he huffs, but he lets go of Seokjin so that he can get his phone.

“You’re gonna answer, Hobi? Really?” Seokjin asks, his voice strained but sounding almost offended, and Hoseok can’t blame him. However, he also can’t have his phone ringing like that.

He frowns when he sees who it is, though.

“It’s Yoongi-hyung,” he says, more than a little breathless. “Fuck. Fuck— what do you think he wants? He doesn’t normally call me.”

Seokjin sighs impatiently. “Just answer. Tell him to fuck off, while you’re at it.”

Hoseok snorts at that, but he’s painfully aware that Seokjin hasn’t moved an inch from where he is. His whole body is still pressed up against Hoseok’s, from his broad chest to his hips. It feels almost dangerous to pick up the phone under circumstances like those, but it also gives Hoseok a thrill of adrenaline, so after telling Seokjin to promise to keep his mouth shut and not try anything funny, he answers.


Fuck, his voice sounds way more breathless than he thought it would; way more choked and strained than it would be normal.

‘Hoseok-ah,’ Yoongi says for all greeting. ‘Hey. You’re not answering my texts.’

“Hyung— shit, you’ve been texting me?” Hoseok says, swallowing thickly as Seokjin completely disregards what he told him before and presses his mouth to the base of his neck while his hand squeezes him by the hip. It makes Hoseok’s breath falter, but he doesn’t let Seokjin get away with it. He elbows him on the ribs, or he tries to, but he fails miserably, which causes Seokjin to laugh quietly. “My phone’s in ‘do not disturb’ mode, sorry, I didn’t realize.”

‘’Do not disturb’ mode on a Friday night? Jeez, that’s kinda sad. You weren’t kidding when you said you were living your living your celibacy to the fullest.’

“I must’ve forgotten to turn it off after work, hyung, it’s not that deep, and I also never said that,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes, but he has to suppress a gasp when Seokjin’s hand slips under his shirt again and he drags his fingers over his abdomen but dips them lower in a dangerous way. “A-Anyway,” he goes on. “What do you want?”

‘Oh, wait— but if you were on do not disturb mode and my call went through, doesn’t that mean that I’m—'

“—one of my favorite contacts, yes, you are. But anyway, hyung, what is it? Come on!” Hoseok says, and fuck. If he was trying not to sound impatient then he just failed miserably. Even Seokjin stops teasing him at that, his hand freezing just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

Yoongi goes quiet for a few seconds before he finally speaks, ‘you alright? You sound kinda… out of breath.’

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, more out of frustration (at himself) than anything else.

“Yeah, yeah— we’re just. Playing. You know.”

‘Who’s ‘we’…?’ Yoongi asks, but then he remembers. ‘Oh! You’re with Seokjin-hyung, right?’

Hoseok’s blood almost chills at that. Seokjin must’ve heard him, because he finally, finally pulls away. He gets his hands off Hoseok and he pushes himself off him. He even walks over so he’s leaning against the counter at a relatively safe distance from Hoseok, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips tightly shut.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, glancing at Seokjin and turning around again, so his lower back is against the counter again. “Yeah, we’re together, and we’re, uh. We’re playing Just Dance. We had to pause the game, so hurry up— what did you want?”

It turned out that all that Yoongi wanted to know was the name of a band they listened to back in college because he really wanted to show it to Namjoon, but he couldn’t remember what the name was.

That was literally all he wanted; all he destroyed the moment between Seokjin and he for; all Hoseok nearly got a heart attack for.

When he hangs up, (and after silencing his phone even to his favorite contacts), he huffs and shoves his phone back in his pocket. He isn’t hard anymore, not one bit, and the mood is beyond dead, and when he looks up at Seokjin, he can’t help but blush when he sees that he was already looking at him, a little amused smile on his face.

“’Just Dance’? Really?” the older man says, raising an eyebrow and laughing. “Nice bullshitting skills.”

Hoseok huffs again, but he can’t help but laugh, relaxing again because it seems that Yoongi really did buy it.

“Would you have preferred I told him you were rubbing your dick against my ass, or touching me inappropriately, you pervert?”

“You were totally into it, though, don’t lie” Seokjin tells him, smirking, wriggling his thick eyebrows at him. “Is it really inappropriate when you’re into it too?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, but he laughs again. “Yes? Of course it’s still inappropriate? Isn’t it, like, exhibitionism to do sexy stuff while on the phone with someone else? That’s kinky. You’re kinky, hyung; I would’ve never guessed.”

Seokjin shrugs, but he looks proud of himself.

“Maybe I am. And you know what? Maybe you are too, but you don’t know it. I mean, you were stuck in a boring relationship for years, after all.”

“Hey, Minah wasn’t boring. Don’t bring her into this.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t. All I’ll say is that I remember how you kept on complaining about how terrible she was at sexting, or about how she only ever did like, three positions.”

“So what? She wasn’t boring. She was cute, and she gave good head, and anyway, I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you…!” Hoseok shakes his head briefly, frowning. Alright. So, maybe Seokjin is right. Maybe he did complain about how unadventurous his girlfriend was, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t happy with her. He never felt like he was stuck with her. He liked being with her, and for a while he could see a future with her. The perfect kind of future that he’s always been told about, with a wife, two kids, and a cute dog.

Minah seemed perfect for that kind of ideal future. She was smart, kind, sweet, and funny. Maybe she was a little bit controlling and overprotective of him and the people he hung out with, okay, but she never forbade him anything or went through his phone, or anything like that. Also, sex with her had never been that good, but it was still alright, and she really did give good head.

“Because you know I’m right. You loved her, and she was pretty, okay, but you were bored.”

“I wasn’t bored.”

“Why did you break up with her, then?” Seokjin asks him, then, and the question sounds a little too loud in the otherwise silent kitchen. Hoseok looks up at him, and he isn’t surprised to find a little satisfied smile on his face.

Why he broke up?

It was over a year ago, but he still remembers. It wasn’t a bad break up. It was more of a mutual agreement, actually. Their lives got more hectic; Minah went into a post-graduate program and Hoseok found a full-time job at the dance studio he works part time now, so suddenly neither of them had time. It happens. It happens to people all the time, and it happened to them. Spending time with her started to feel like a chore to Hoseok, and at some point, he stopped feeling excited when he met up with her, or when they talked. He didn’t put the same effort into meeting her than he did into keeping in touch with Seokjin, Yoongi, Jimin, and the others, which was telling. Looking back on it all, they could’ve saved the relationship if Hoseok had done something drastic like proposing to her, or moving in with her, or maybe even marrying her like his parents (and her parents) wanted them to do.

However, when Hoseok realized that he didn’t want that at all, he decided that it was better to stop wasting their time and move on with their lives. Lucky for him, it seemed Minah had a similar view on everything, so it wasn’t painful. It was just… A necessary step for them.

They met at a neutral place –a café neither of them had ever been to and that Hoseok never went to again—, they talked things out, they hugged one last time while they wished each other good luck, and that was it.

That was it.

“Because I didn’t love her anymore. Maybe you broke up with your girlfriends because you got bored of them easily, but in my case, it was more complex than that.”

He holds Seokjin’s gaze when he answers, so he sees the way his brow furrows even if it’s very slight and almost imperceptible. Looking at him like this, so closely, under the neon white light of his kitchen, he can see that Seokjin has aged a little bit. There are slight creases on the corners of his eyes that weren’t there five years ago, and a handful of grey hairs scattered here and there on his otherwise perfectly pitch-black hair. He’s still young, obviously, and he looks young, but he doesn’t look as young as he did when they first became friends.

“Okay,” Seokjin says finally, nodding. “Guess you’re right. You can’t compare two-month or three-month long relationships to one that lasted almost four years, can you.”

“Not really,” Hoseok agrees, even if he’s not exactly sure what Seokjin’s getting at because he sounds almost ironic; like there are more things hiding between his words than Hoseok can tell. He feels strange, all of a sudden— when did they start talking about deep things? Seokjin’s shirt is still half unbuttoned, and the sight of it reminds Hoseok that they were about to have sex. Again. He clears his throat and looks away from the exposed skin of Seokjin’s chest before he speaks again. “There are way more things at stake the more time you spend with another person and the more you get to know them.”

Seokjin hums, and through the corner of his eyes Hoseok sees him nod as he buttons his shirt up again.

“Yeah. No, I get it. It’s true. Sorry I brought her up like that. Sorry you broke up.”

Hoseok snorts at that. “It was a long time ago already and I’m more than over it at this point, but thank you.” Seokjin just shrugs and shoots him a little smile as he finishes fixing his clothes, but suddenly a question appears in his chest and escapes his throat before he can stop it. “Are you leaving?”

Seokjin stops and blinks a few times before he looks back at Hoseok.

“Yeah? I mean. I killed the mood, didn’t I?” Seokjin says, chuckling, but not sounding very cheerful. “Why, you want me to stay?”

Hoseok feels a blush growing in his face at that, but he hopes it’s not visible.

“I mean… Yeah? You drove all the way here,” he points out. What he leaves out is that, although the mood was killed indeed, he still got himself cleaned for this, and he put effort into that. Effort that he doesn’t want to lose just because they started talking about dumb stuff from the past. He still wants to have sex with Seokjin. He wants to feel him more; ever since Seokjin first said those cursed words at the gay club three weeks ago, and especially after seeing how much of a wreck Seokjin was when he fucked him, Hoseok has been wanting to feel him for real. But he won’t tell him that. “We could, uhm. I don’t know. Play Just Dance for real, if you want?”

The older man laughs at that, a genuine, pleasant laugh that makes Hoseok smile and relax.

“Alright. Why not? It sounds good. But you gotta promise you won’t cry when I beat your ass.”

Hoseok snorts at that. “Please. It’s you who will end up crying when I’m done with you.”



This one is kind of specific, but Hoseok isn’t new to lap dances.

He hasn’t received as many he would’ve liked, though, and one of them was from a stripper at a bachelor party so it wasn’t even that enjoyable. The others were a lot better and a lot more recent. A few months after breaking up with Minah, he went out with a girl who was also a dancer for a couple of weeks, but it was nothing serious because she lived in America and had to go back there soon. She was into lap dances, and sometimes she indulged Hoseok with one.

But that was about it.

That was where his first-hand experience with lap dances started and finished.

Never, not in a hundred, a thousand, or a million years, would’ve Hoseok imagined that he would be on the giving end of a lap dance.


Much less that it would be Kim Seokjin of all people on the receiving end.

And yet, that’s exactly what happens.

One moment they are simply playing, dancing along to fun and upbeat songs and enjoying themselves, but then Seokjin complains about being too tired to keep up so he sits down.

“I’ll watch,” he says, plopping down on the couch. “I’ll even cheer for you if you want me to, but don’t make me dance anymore, please; I’m fucking beat.”

Hoseok makes fun of him for being old and also for being a big-talker, telling him he’ll beat his ass and make him cry, but he lets him rest. He has a tiring day of work over his shoulders, after all, and he really got out late from his work dinner. Hoseok can be a big tease normally, but he has never been a bad person, in his humble opinion, and he understands that Seokjin is tired.

The problem is, after that, things get out of control.

And perhaps, perhaps, it’s Hoseok’s fault.

He could’ve stuck to songs similar to the ones they had already danced. Like Lady Gaga’s ‘Born this Way’, or ‘I Gotta Feeling’ by Black Eyed Peas. If he had, perhaps things wouldn’t have escalated the way they do, but nope. Of course, he puts on Britney Spear’s ‘Circus’, and of course Seokjin tells him to ‘put on a show’ in a way that could be a joke, but that most likely isn’t.

The choreography of the game isn’t exactly sexy, but it isn’t exactly tame either. The thing is that Hoseok has a lot of fun making it sexy. He doesn’t know why, but it feels awfully good to look over his shoulder every now and then and see Seokjin’s eyes on him and only him, following the movements of his hips even if he is wearing the least sexy clothes in the world. He feels sexy when Seokjin looks at him like that, so at some point, what started as half a joke becomes more serious.

Hoseok doesn’t even finish dancing the song.

He goes up to Seokjin, instead, fueled by a strange kind of heat that spread through his body at the speed of light every time he caught Seokjin’s eyes on him; every time their eyes met and Hoseok purposely rolled his hips harder and dug his teeth onto his lip.

It would be a shame that they don’t get around to having sex once again because they get too excited, but it isn’t, because it feels really, really good. Hoseok sits down on Seokjin’s lap, breathing hard due to the effort of dancing, and he runs his hands through the older man’s hair while he grinds his hips down against his.

So, perhaps it isn’t a lap dance after all because it isn’t exactly a dance, and Seokjin does kiss and touch Hoseok. He touches him all over. They kiss hard as Hoseok works his hips against Seokjin’s, grinding their erections together while their hands run free over each other’s body, desperate to feel. Seokjin removes Hoseok’s shirt, and Hoseok manages to fully unbutton Seokjin’s dress shirt, which allows him to tease his nipples the way he knows he likes, but that is as far as they get. The heat is soon overwhelming, blinding, and Hoseok can’t bring himself to stop grinding against Seokjin even if he tried. But judging by the way that Seokjin’s hands grip Hoseok’s hips and then sneak under his sweats so they can grab his ass, it seems that he’s more than fine with all of this, even if he is in his office trousers.

There is something incredibly arousing about making a mess out of Seokjin when they are both still half dressed, and Hoseok chases that pleasure with every movement of his hips; every suck and lick and bite of his mouth to the older man’s neck; every touch and pull and press of his hands to Seokjin’s skin, to his hair, and his throat.

“Don’t stop,” Seokjin tells him, even, helping the movement of Hoseok’s hips with the hands he has on his ass. Hoseok groans desperately against Seokjin’s neck, grinding hard against him. “Hobi, come on, kiss me— I’m close.”

“Me too,” Hoseok grits out, moving away from Seokjin’s neck but only so he can kiss him. “Fuck, hyung, me too—"

It’s all so intense, so quick, so dirty, that it kind of makes sense that they come almost at the same time, gasping and moaning into each other’s mouths, with one of Hoseok’s hands wrapped loosely around the base of Seokjin’s throat, and Seokjin’s hands gripping his ass cheeks in a way that is almost painful.

They continue kissing even after the movements of their hips still. There is little to no oxygen inside of Hoseok’s lungs, and his chest is rising and falling almost in time with Seokjin’s, but they still kiss, long and hard, and neither of them stops until their heartbeat rate has more or less returned to normal.

“Fuck,” Seokjin says, rough and breathless, but still laughing nonetheless. His hands let go of Hoseok’s ass, but only so they can find and settle on his hips instead. “Fuck, that was gross.”

“Grossly teenage,” Hoseok agrees, chuckling as he lets his own hands find a place behind Seokjin’s neck. He supposes he should pull away, but he doesn’t want to. Seokjin is comfortable, so comfortable, and his chest is warm and nice and completely on display. How could Hoseok ever want to move away? He does the opposite of that, actually; he leans his head down and presses his face against the older man’s neck, instinctively seeking the comfort and the warmth of his body. “I can’t even remember the last time I did something like this.”

“Me neither,” Seokjin hums, and rather than push Hoseok away, he pulls him closer. His arms wrap more tightly around his torso, and then he starts stroking Hoseok’s back with his fingers in a way that makes Hoseok sigh happily. “We’re disgusting.”

“Mmm, yeah. We should… You know. We should take a shower.”

Seokjin nods at that, but Hoseok feels it rather than sees it.

“Yeah…” he says, but then he adds. “But do you mean, like… Together?”

“Well, yeah?” Hoseok answers. “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before. I don’t mind… Do you mind?”

Seokjin shakes his head, and again, Hoseok feels it rather than sees it.

“I don’t mind.”

For some reason, Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat a little. “Ok. Cool.”

So, they’re gonna shower together.

No big deal.

They stand in the middle of Hoseok’s tiny bathroom while they wait for the water to heat up, smiling at each other a little awkwardly before they finally get around to getting rid of their pants. But while Hoseok doesn’t have much trouble with his, Seokjin does have trouble with his own. He fumbles with his belt, and he curses softly under his breath, his voice muffled by the spray of the shower, but still loud enough for Hoseok to hear.

“You need help with that?” He asks, chuckling as casually as he can even if he’s completely naked, and closing the short distance between Seokjin and himself.

“I hate this belt,” Seokjin says simply as he lets Hoseok take over. He laughs softly as he looks down at him. “I should throw it away. It’s like a chastity device.”

“A really bad chastity device,” Hoseok jokes, unbuckling the belt and smiling up at the older man. “It couldn’t stop us.”

Seokjin laughs again, shaking his head slightly, and damn. They’re close. They’re very close. Hoseok’s hands are now trying to undo the button of Seokjin’s trousers, but they are so close to each other that their chests and stomachs are touching. Their noses are almost touching, too, and the look in Seokjin’s eyes is so nice and pretty, the sound of his laughter so warm and pleasant between the tiled walls of the bathroom, that he can’t help what he does.

Or rather, what he doesn’t do.

Seokjin tilts his head slightly and his lips part, and when he leans down he does so slowly enough that Hoseok could’ve stopped him.

But Hoseok doesn’t stop him.

Hoseok kisses back. Hoseok lets go of Seokjin’s pants so he can place his hands on his pretty narrow waist instead, and he kisses him slowly, gently, like the clouds of steam swirling around them. Seokjin’s hands reach up to cup his face, and it feels amazing. Both of their lips feel raw and abused from their previous intense kissing session, but this kiss is nothing like the previous one; this one is soft and sweet, almost, and it has no purpose. It’s completely counterproductive to be kissing at the moment, actually— Seokjin’s cum is drying in his boxers and the shower is running. They’re wasting hot water. They’re wasting time.

(They’re wasting tenderness, too, kissing each other like this, like it matters, when it doesn’t matter. When it clearly doesn’t matter; when it’s all just for the thrill of it. For the sake of testing boundaries. For science.)

Seokjin stays over that night, and Hoseok falls asleep with his chest pressed up against the older man’s back. It feels like a big deal. His lips hurt, and his heart is beating fast for some reason; their legs are tangled under the blankets, his arm is wrapped around Seokjin’s torso, and it really feels like a big deal.

But it isn’t.

And honestly? It better not be.

Chapter Text

Hoseok’s not new to morning cuddles.

He’s not new to the wonderful feeling of waking up and noticing the presence of a warm body next to his, against his, and completely tangled up with his as soon as consciousness kicks in. He loves it. He loves the sensuality (which is different from sexuality) and the intimacy of it. He loves waking up a little sweaty because of shared body heat, as gross as it may be. He loves the feeling of skin on skin. He loves sharing that moment of sheer vulnerability and authenticity with someone else.

Because when the sun rises, there is nowhere to hide. Hoseok thinks that is probably the reason why people flee after one-night stands — the reason why he, too, flees after one-night stands. It’s so the person he slept with can’t see him and everything he is, with all his flaws and imperfections. His faulty skin, his stinky armpits, his body hair, and his morning breath; so that they can’t see what’s left after the safety and the blindness of the night are gone, and after the frenzy that brought them to bed in the first place has dissipated.

Hoseok has always been a very… corporal being, a very sensual being, so to say.

He is a dancer, after all, so everything he feels goes through his body first. He is more than familiar with his body, and with other people’s bodies, and just with bodies in general, and he has never felt any sort of shame in that. However, he doesn’t think that sex is the most intimate you can be with someone. It is intimate, sure, and it requires a minimum level of mutual trust, but Hoseok thinks that this moment – this “waking up next to someone you trust and not being afraid of what they might think about your flaws, your faulty skin, stinky armpits, body hair, and morning breath” moment — this is true intimacy. This is as intimate and honest as he can be with someone. As genuine and bare (without necessarily being naked) as he will ever be.

It’s a feeling he loves. Not having to hide under a mask and simply relishing in the warmth of another person, laid just as genuine and bare as himself, while his brain slowly starts to wake up.

And it’s been a long, long time since he was last able to indulge himself in this; in the possibility of not having to flee as soon as he opens his eyes with someone next to him.

It’s definitely been over a year, since before he broke up with Minah.

Cuddling with her was nice. Like him, she was a huge fan of cuddles too, and she was so tiny that she fit perfectly against his chest. When they cuddled, Hoseok was always the big spoon. Perhaps it was an instinctive thing, or perhaps he genuinely liked it best that way, or perhaps that was just how he thought things were supposed to be, considering he was the man and she was the woman, and he was big and she was tiny, and the idea of being the tiny spoon with his tiny girlfriend seemed a bit outlandish for his cis-heterosexual brain. But whatever the reason, Hoseok was used to waking up with his girlfriend’s back against his chest, her smooth legs tangled between his not-smooth ones, and the scent of her floral shampoo in his nostrils.

These morning cuddles, though, — the ones he’s indulging in right now — are different.

Not bad in any way, though. Not at all.

Just. Completely different.

He remembers falling asleep last night with Seokjin between his arms and his back against his chest, a mix of comfort and unease storming in his chest because he was enjoying this far too much. His arm was looped around Seokjin’s body while his heart beat fast and loud against his friend’s back, and yet, he was out like a light in seconds, drowned by an unexplainable sense of – he wants to say belonging, but he’s not going to say belonging. No way. Let’s just leave it at peace. Sleepiness. Cuddle-induced drowsiness.

When he wakes up, it’s a whole different story, though.

Seokjin and he must have shifted positions at some point, because the moment his brain starts waking up, slow and easy, undoubtedly stirred by the weak sunshine filtering through the light curtains of his room, it’s his back against Seokjin’s chest.

His mind takes in his surroundings slowly, without a rush. First, it’s the light. Then, it’s the warmth. And then, it’s the feeling.

His legs are still tangled up with Seokjin’s, and it is hairy skin on hairy skin because neither of them shaves or anything like that, but it doesn’t feel bad. Seokjin’s body is firm, nothing at all like a girl’s, and although Hoseok’s gotten quite familiarized with it by now, this is the first time he’s found himself like this, waking up in his arms like they’re anything other than just friends. Last week, they woke up together too, but not like this. Not as tangled up in each other as they are now.

The first time Hoseok slept with Seokjin, everything was different because they were intoxicated, and Hoseok rightfully panicked when he realized what they had done. But last night, everything that happened —from the intense kissing in the kitchen, to the steamy Just Dance session, to their shared shower, to falling asleep together—; everything was a conscious decision from both of them. At least... Somewhat.

But, whatever.

Hoseok doesn’t want to stop and think about the implications of his actions now. Or ever.

Lucky for him, it’s not like he even can stop to think about anything to begin with. His brain is half-asleep still, swimming in the laziness of the morning and of the warm body pressed against his. His muscles are comfortably numb and stiff, like someone poured melted caramel on his joints, and then— there’s also a subtle pleasure on his neck.

He sighs softly at the sensation as he becomes more aware of it, and he soon realizes that it’s a pair of lips. Seokjin’s lips. Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat and his stomach flips when the realization of what is going on dawns on him, along with fact that he likes it, likes it very much, and he doesn’t want it to stop. Seokjin’s lips are plump and soft, Hoseok is well acquainted with them by now, and they feel perfect as they drag over his skin, sucking on it lightly and pressing subtle kisses to different spots here and there.

The mix of sleepiness and pleasure is amazing, and Hoseok finds himself tilting his head to the side, pressing the side of his face into his pillow to give Seokjin more space.

“Hyung…?” He breathes, his voice a bit gravelly and rough because he’s only just waking up, for one, but also because he feels really good at the moment, and he’s all kinds of dazed.

Seokjin hums questioningly, and Hoseok feels it more than he hears it, the older man’s chest vibrating with the reverberation of his voice.

“What the fuck are you doing…?” Hoseok asks as softly as he can because, although he is surprised, he isn’t complaining. Not one bit.

“I dunno,” the older says, unfazed by Hoseok’s curse word because he surely can tell that Hoseok doesn’t want him to stop. “I woke up and you smelled nice...”

“Hm,” now it's Hoseok who hums, unable to speak as a lazy, warm jolt of pleasure runs down his spine. He’s suddenly very aware that his ass is right against Seokjin’s crotch, and that he’s kind of hard. Which is… hot. It feels strangely good to feel his hard-on against his ass, even through the fabric of the boxers they’re wearing. Hoseok himself is a little hard, too, but feels himself getting harder every second.

“I couldn’t help it, I don’t know,” Seokjin whispers, and Hoseok kinda wants to chuckle, but then Seokjin’s hand curls around his hip and he moves closer to press himself more fully against Hoseok’s body, which causes his half-hard cock to dig even more against his clothed ass. His laughter dies in his throat, and his instincts have him tilting his head to the side, lips parted, and his hand reaching behind himself so he can bury his fingers in the older man’s black hair.

Seokjin swallows audibly at that.

“I can… you know, I can stop if this is too much,” he says, and Hoseok has never heard anything as dumb as that in his entire life.

“If you dare stop, I’m unfriending you forever and I’ll never speak to you again. Just a warning,” he says, and when Seokjin laughs softly, his breath flutters warm against his ear, low and husky and sexy— it causes Hoseok’s dick to twitch in his pants and for him to press his ass back against Seokjin’s dick. He still has no idea what Seokjin does to his body, or how he does it. He plays him like a fucking instrument— Hoseok never knew he could be so sensitive, and yet here he is, getting turned on by a few kisses to his neck and a low laugh.

Seokjin listens well. Far from stopping, he doubles his efforts. He rocks his hips against Hoseok’s ass again, and again, and again. He licks a stripe up Hoseok’s neck at the same time as he slides his hand to the front of his body so he can cup his dick through his boxers, and Hoseok can’t keep himself from moaning. His brain is still soaked in sleepiness, and none of his defenses are up. None of them. The only things that are up are his pulse and his dick, which is restrained against his underwear and cradled in Seokjin’s warm hand.

“Can I…?” Seokjin breathes, his warm breath gusting against a wet patch of skin behind Hoseok’s ear. He was palming Hoseok lazily, the pressure as relieving as it was maddening, but then his fingers start playing with the waistband of his boxers, and Hoseok understands his intentions right away.

He sucks in a breath and nods as best as he can, even with half his head buried in his pillow.

“Fuck, yes,” he sighs. Seokjin makes quick work of his boxers, pushing them down until they’re halfway down his thighs. He moves in closer again, the bed sheets rustling, but Hoseok stops him. “Wait—“ he says, his face heating up at the fact that he’s pretty much naked from the waist down under the covers. “Take yours off too. Please.”

“Oh,” he says before Hoseok can even realize that he actually said please for no reason at all. “Yeah, sure thing.”

Seokjin pulls away momentarily so he can fumble with his own underwear and get it out of the way, and the next time he presses his body against Hoseok’s, his hard and slightly wet cock slides right between Hoseok’s ass cheeks.

And shit— that’s something he’s never felt before.

Holy shit, hyung—,” Hoseok gasps, his fingers clutching onto the older’s hair.

“Is that good?” Seokjin asks, his voice sounding more than a little choked.

“It’s— it’s very good, yeah,” he answers with an honestly that surprises him, and he hums once Seokjin starts pressing kisses to his neck again. “A bit unusual, though.”

“Yeah?” He asks again, rolling his hips so that his cock drags against Hoseok’s flesh. The movement is dry, but it still has him moaning against Hoseok’s neck. “It feels— it feels really good to me. Have you ever… you know… played with your ass before?”

Hoseok feels his throat go dry at that, but his lips part with a silent sigh when Seokjin’s hand wraps around his dick all of a sudden. It’s starting to get too warm under the sheets, too warm under the morning sun, but Hoseok doesn’t think he’s ever craved anything as much as he craves Seokjin’s hands and Seokjin’s mouth right now, even if his question is embarrassing as fuck.

“Never,” he replies honestly. “I mean— last night, almost.”

“What?” Seokjin asks, sobering a little bit and pausing his movements. “Really? When…?”

“Before you got here,” Hoseok says, his breath hitching and a little pathetic whine leaving his throat when Seokjin’s fist strokes his cock firmly. “I, uh… I actually cleaned up. Down there.”

A short silence stretches after that, one that is filled with the deafening beating of his heart as it struggles to send all his blood south, to make him harder than he’s ever been while Seokjin holds his dick with a steady, maddening grip.

“You… you want this,” Seokjin says. Or asks. Hoseok isn’t very sure— it sounds more as a statement than as a question, and if it is then, shit, he’s really not wrong.

“I don’t know,” Hoseok tells him, anyway, even if every cell of his body wants this. The dichotomy between what his rationality and his corporality want is going to drive him crazy one of these days. “I’m… curious. Very much. You clearly liked it when I fucked you, so it can’t be that bad—“

“—it’s not bad at all, Hobi—“

“—yeah, no. The problem isn’t it being bad.”

The problem is— what if I like it too much? What do I do then? What do I do if I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me afterwards? What if I can’t go back to how things were before, when I didn’t know what it was like to fuck around with a guy— but more importantly, what it was like to fuck around with you? What happens then?

“If you don’t want me to fuck you, you can fuck me, Hobi. I’ve no problem with that…” Seokjin offers, his voice deep and breathless, obviously turned on, but also gentle like the fluffy blankets over them.

There’s another problem, though.

Hoseok wants it. As long as it’s with Seokjin, he wants it; wants to try it at least once. He actually wants it too much to step back now, and if he stops to think about it, he has probably wanted it since the first time – when he couldn’t stop hearing Seokjin’s words in his head when he told him that he wanted to fuck him while Yoongi drove them away from that little gay club in Itaewon, or when he mindlessly said okay when Seokjin asked him to stick around the morning after.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Hoseok says, confident but nervous at the same time. “Just. You know. Fuck me. Let’s get this done and over with. I want this. Fuck me, or else I won’t be able to live in peace and the curiosity will kill me.”

Seokjin laughs at that, but it’s a choked and affected sound. Hoseok feels strangely dirty saying it like that, but not in a bad way, and when Seokjin’s hand strokes Hoseok’s cock again, from base to tip, he keens, embarrassed and exposed, but enjoying every part of it.

“Wow, it’s that serious, huh,” he mocks, and Hoseok is about to retort –point out how Seokjin’s cock is literally twitching and leaking where it’s nestled against his ass—, but before he can say anything, the older man gives his cock another stroke that feels sinfully good and kills the words before they even form in his tongue. He’s leaking already, which should be embarrassing, but the way Seokjin spreads the wetness down his length with his fingers keeps him distracted from any and every potentially negative thought. “Don’t worry, Hoseokie. I’ll fuck you so good, you won’t regret it one bit.”

Hoseok shivers at that, but he doesn’t tell Seokjin— that’s exactly what he’s worried about.


Hoseok’s not new to fingering, but that much has been stated previously.

He just… has never been too big on it. He’s only resorted to it every now and then, only to make sure the girl he was with was wet enough or per said girl’s request, and never for too long. Because the whole idea of sex is to stick his dick somewhere, after all. Not his fingers. Isn’t it?



He’s finding out now just how much of a dumbass he was before for underestimating the pleasure that a couple of fingers in the right place can provide.

At first it wasn’t that good, if he’s honest. Seokjin laid him down on his stomach and pulled the bed covers back so that he had a privileged view of Hoseok’s bare ass, which was a little… scary. Emasculating, even. Not too much, because thankfully, he was and still is very horny. Seokjin touched and kissed his body all over, which also helped him take his mind off unpleasant things and keep him focused on the mind-numbing, toe-curling feelings Seokjin provides.

The first finger was weird. So weird. He nearly told Seokjin to fuck off and take his hands off his asshole, but the older man promised him as he kissed his ear— it’ll get better, Hobi, be patient; trust me. He told him that if he really didn’t like it after a few minutes, then they’d switch positions, but it turned not to be necessary because, true to his word, Hoseok started feeling better after not too long, after Seokjin had pushed a second finger inside him.

They were using heaps of lube (because they both kept bottles of lube now), and there was a nasty squelching noise every time Seokjin’s fingers slid against his walls. The last time they had sex, Hoseok used a condom on his fingers when he prepped Seokjin’s, but this time Seokjin forwent it, so Hoseok could feel so much, it was almost overwhelming.

“Fuck, I could do this all day,” Seokjin curses, sliding his fingers in and out of Hoseok, slowly but picking up a rhythm. Hoseok is on his knees to make it easier to Seokjin, but he has his arms wrapped around a pillow and his face buried in it. It’s partly so he can hide his flushed face, but above all, it’s so he can muffle the embarrassing sounds that started slipping past his lips when Seokjin’s fingers reached very close to something that felt really good.

“That’s gay,” Hoseok says, like he isn’t getting fingered open and liking it. As if on cue, Seokjin’s fingers brush against that very sensitive area of his body again, and a foreign and all-encompassing shot of sheer pleasure surges through his nerves. It’s so powerful, so different to everything he’s ever felt before, and his dick twitches against the mattress. He gasps and clutches tight onto the pillow, his back arching at the feeling and his asshole clenching around Seokjin’s fingers. “God, fuck, hyung—!”

“Shit, Hobi,” the older man says, twisting his fingers and trying to mimic the last movement he did, probably seeking the same reaction out of Hoseok. “Shit, your ass is so tight.”

“Don’t say shit like that, hyung, what the hell is your problem,” Hoseok says, never mind that he’s drooling while he inwardly thanks the heavens for Seokjin’s godly fingers.

You are my problem,” the older man replies, fucking his fingers into Hoseok without a rush, but not lazily anymore now that he knows how to aim his fingers. Hoseok grunts when Seokjin reaches that spot again, and then again, and then a helpless moan escapes him when he feels Seokjin’s hard cock poke against his ass cheek, his broad chest pressing against his back as the older man leans down to speak into his ear. “You are my problem, Hoseok,” he repeats. “You, and the way you smelled in the morning, and the way you looked in the morning, and the way you look now, with my fingers in your ass—“

“It just— it feels really good, hyung—“ Hoseok gasps out, and he’s not even lying. It really feels good. Unlike anything he’s ever felt, completely unfamiliar and strange, but also really, disarmingly good.

Hoseok’s not new to fingering, but he definitely, definitely didn’t know shit about it.

It’s almost too much at a certain point. He’s never really been in a position where he doesn’t have to do anything other than receive and receive and receive pleasure. Nothing other than blowjobs. Right now, face down and on his knees, with his ass sticking out and Seokjin’s fingers buried inside of his— this is definitely the furthest he’s ever been from control, but he’s enjoying it.

Seokjin preps him well, seemingly enjoying it as much as Hoseok. Hoseok can’t see anything, though. His eyes are shut, scrunched forcefully as invisible waves of pleasure hit him, and the feeling of being spread open sends him spiraling into a state of mind he’s never been in before. It doesn’t last much longer, though – he thinks he hears Seokjin mumbling something about his ass looking so good and wet, he can’t wait any longer before slowly dragging his fingers out of him.

Hoseok remembers last time –the first time they went all the way and had actual, penetrative gay sex—, Seokjin told him it’d be him underneath the next time, but that he would be careful, and he’s true to his word. He takes his time, and Hoseok waits, overwhelmed even if they haven’t gotten to the important part yet. His eyes are still closed, so he only hears as Seokjin rips the foil packet of the condom, and then how he slicks himself up. At some point, after time has stopped being a reliable concept to Hoseok, he feels Seokjin grabbing him by the hips, adjusting him, and the tip of his dick teasing his rim.

Fuck— fuck, this is really it.

His breath catches, and he tenses up, sudden panic taking over him when the fact that he’s about to get gay-fucked by his best friend settles, but Seokjin catches him before the alarm floods him.

“Shh, Hobi, it’s okay,” the older man says as he leans down, his sweaty chest against Hoseok’s sweaty back, and he presses kisses over his shoulders. “I got you, Hobi, babe— you wanna stop? Is that it?”

Hoseok shakes his head, not without difficulty, as a weird, warm and sticky sensation courses through his veins at Seokjin’s words. He doesn’t know if it was the way he said ’babe’, or the fact that he has his dick literally against Hoseok’s ass and yet he’s willing to back down if Hoseok decides he doesn’t want this after all, but something has a searing, heavy, and overwhelming feeling he can’t identify settling in his chest and wrapping around his heart.

He trusts him so much – would trust him with his life. Would trust him to take him apart, to make him feel good, and to stop if Hoseok wanted to stop.

“I don’t want to stop,” Hoseok says, turning his head to the side to be able to speak. He’s so worked up already, and the fact that the head of Seokjin’s dick pressing up against his entrance isn’t making things easier for him. He finds he wants more of it; wants it inside of him, all the way in, to make him feel as good as Seokjin felt the last time they did this. “I want this. I want you— god, hyung, I want you so much.”

“Fuck, Hobi—,” Seokjin curses under his breath. Hoseok shivers when he brings a gentle hand to stroke his sweaty hair as he leans down lower so he can capture Hoseok’s lips in a kiss.

It’s an awful kiss, truthfully. The angle is terribly off, the two of them are breathless, and their mouths stink of morning breath, but it fuels Hoseok with want. It has the strange, hot and heavy feeling that coated his heart moments ago squeezing around it and tugging at it from every direction.

“Don’t be too rough,” he says, once Seokjin pulls away, and he watches him lick at his own lips.


“Unless, you know… Unless I tell you to.”

Seokjin chuckles at that.

“Sure, babe,” he agrees. After that, he settles properly behind Hoseok again. “If you don’t like it, just tell me to stop and I’ll stop, alright?”

“Alright,” Hoseok agrees, and after that, it happens.

Seokjin breaches him slowly, with a measured movement of his hips that has Hoseok’s muscles tensing up again. Seokjin has to pause and tell him to relax, his voice shaky and breathless as his lips travel over Hoseok’s skin and his hands stroke his hips and thighs soothingly. It takes them a while, Hoseok could never tell just how long or short, but eventually, Seokjin is buried to the hilt inside of him, his cock hot and pulsing and huge

The older man stays still, which Hoseok is thankful about – the feeling is just completely overwhelming. It hurts. In spite of the fact that Seokjin fingered him with three of his fingers, it still hurts right now. He wants to move, but even the slightest movement feels like too much. He feels like he might get split in half, but then, he also feels like he would quite like that; that he wants that. That the pain he feels isn’t actually that bad. Because it stings, yeah, and he thinks there may be tears gathering in his eyes, but it also feels really, really good.

“You okay?” Seokjin asks, completely choked and rough and unlike him.

Hoseok can only nod.

“Yeah,” he attempts. “You’re just— shit, you’re just really, really big.”

Seokjin lets out a breathless little laughter at that, his hand squeezing Hoseok’s hip. “That’s gay,” he says, and Hoseok would have probably laughed as well if the air hadn’t gotten knocked out of his lungs, because the next think Seokjin does is rock his hips back and forth in a shallow thrust.

God, this is so fucking weird,” Hoseok sighs, his voice muffled against the pillow. Seokjin moves his hips again, dragging his cock out of him before pushing it in again slowly, carefully, and shit— it is weird. Hoseok has never felt so full, but it feels great now, not just good, and he’s about to say something when Seokjin snaps his hips a bit harder than before, perhaps by accident or instinct, and every word dies in his tongue. Not just because of the feeling, but because Seokjin lets out a loud, if breathless, moan against the base of his neck.

“Oh my god, Hobi,” he whines, and it sounds so dirty, so hot, that it fries each and every one of Hoseok’s remaining brain cells. His body feels heavy, his mind completely hazy, but he reaches behind him with one of his arms so he can grab Seokjin by the ass and pull him closer to himself, consequently driving his cock deeper in him.

“Fuck me, hyung, come on. You’re not doing anything,” he groans, his breath hitching in his throat when Seokjin fucks into him again. There’s not a trace of the pain he felt previously anymore, only a minor discomfort that is insignificant next to the unexpected pleasure of being completely filled up.

“Sorry, sorry— you just feel really good,” he says, and suddenly Hoseok feels his lips on the top of his spine. He hums pleasurably as Seokjin grips his hips tightly, and starts fucking him properly, slowly but steadily, pushing him down against the mattress, his hard and leaking cock rubbing against the bedsheets.

“You too, hyung—

“I get distracted.”

Hoseok lets out a breathless chuckle, though it turns into a groan when it’s halfway out of his mouth. It’s muffled by the sound of Seokjin’s hips slapping against his ass, though, and by the sound of Seokjin’s own pants and soft moans. He’s so loud— Hoseok loves it. Whether he’s just getting a blowjob, or whether he’s getting fucked, or whether he’s the one doing the fucking, Seokjin is so sensitive and so vocal about his pleasure, that it messes with Hoseok’s brain.

Hoseok feels himself slipping further and further, each thrust pushing him not only higher and higher on the mattress, but also deeper into a state of mind where the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters, is Seokjin, and the things Seokjin is doing to him. Seokjin’s hands are on him, as is his mouth, fingers grabbing onto his messy brown hair and tongue licking over his sweaty skin. He pushes his head to the side, not roughly but not gently either, and Hoseok moans, squeezing the soft flesh of Seokjin’s ass with his hand as he starts driving faster inside of him, his cock reaching places inside of Hoseok that he would’ve never imagined could feel so good.

“Look at you, Hobi— fuck, you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you,” Seokjin says, his voice choked and breathy against the wet skin of Hoseok’s nape. Hoseok can’t really say anything. All he can do is sigh and nod, blink away the tears clinging to his eyelashes as best as he can, and clutch onto the pillow and to Seokjin with his hands as best as he can, to brace himself. He thinks things couldn’t get any better when a certain thrust of Seokjin’s has stars and suns and entire galaxies exploding behind his eyes, and he can’t help the loud moan that the sheer pleasure rips from him.

“Hyung, fuck, fuck—! Do that again,” he gasps out, and when Seokjin does, the two of them moan out loud. Hoseok’s not sure how early in the morning it is, but he has half a mind to hope it isn’t early enough that the sound of their fucking might wake his neighbors up.

Hoseok isn’t new to morning cuddles, nor to morning sex, but this is the first time he’s had such intense, such passionate morning sex.

Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s in a completely different position that he tends to be in, so everything feels new, and everything feels hot. Seokjin is fucking him faster now, harder, and Hoseok can’t get enough. It is said that morning sex is lazy and slow, sometimes even soft, and Hoseok can attest to that based on his previous experiences.

However, it’s not like this morning sex right here is a mindless, hectic race for an orgasm, because it’s not that at all. Hoseok finds himself wishing it didn’t have to end, even in the haze of his pleasure. His cock drags against his bed with every thrust of Seokjin’s, and the sound of Seokjin’s moans are better than music to his ears. Seokjin’s chest is pressed against his back, bodies completely flush together, but at a certain point he slows down. Hoseok whimpers at that, the rolling ball of pleasure inside him coming to a halt, but before he can bring himself to complain, he feels Seokjin’s lips against his ears.

“I wanna turn you around,” he says, his tongue dragging over the shell of Hoseok’s ear. It has the younger shivering. “I wanna turn you around— I wanna see your face when you come on my cock, Hobi.”

Hoseok can’t help the moan he lets out at that; can’t help the way he clenches around Seokjin.

“Oh my god— you’re so nasty, hyung.”

Seokjin chuckles lowly against his ear, and he squeezes Hoseok’s hip. “You just look so good when you come, Hobi, for real.”

“So do you,” Hoseok says before he can stop to think about it. Though it’s not like he could stop to think about anything— not when he has a cock in his ass, fucking his brains out, and he’s enjoying it so much. Seokjin rolls his hips again, his cock dragging against his walls with a wet sound and only shy of hitting his prostate dead on, and he groans loudly. “Ah, fuck—”

“—so, can you turn around?” Seokjin asks, and Hoseok nods almost desperately.

“God, yes, please, I need to see you,” he replies.

He whines lowly when Seokjin pulls out, feeling himself clenching around nothing. He turns around to be lying on his back quickly, shamelessly eagerly, and it would be embarrassing if Seokjin didn’t look down at him the way he does when they’re finally face to face.

The sight of him on top of him knocks him breathless. His black hair is completely messed up, his broad chest falling and rising quickly in time with his shallow breaths, and his dark eyes clouded over with want. Hoseok swallows thickly as he scans him with his eyes, taking them from the older man’s wide hips, narrow waist, and his thick, wet cock (which he’s slowly stroking with one of his hands), up to his faint abs, his –sensitive— nipples, and then, his face.

He looks so good in the golden morning sun. The light catches on the sheen of sweat coating his body, which makes him look like he’s glowing. His lips aren’t any more swollen than usual, but he still looks beyond fucked out, with his cheeks and his ears burning a bright shade of red.

Hoseok’s stomach flips inside of him, and he licks his lips as he brings his hands to Seokjin’s jaw, so he can cup his face and bring him down into a kiss.

It still tastes awfully, but it feels heavenly, and it goes on for a while. It’s slow, hot, and almost lazy; nothing at all like the pace at which they were fucking just now, but it’s definitely not a cooldown from that. The feeling of Seokjin’s lips against his is electrifying, always is, but he’s in the middle of indulging himself in the wet feeling of their tongues sliding together, when Seokjin makes his way between his legs, pushing them apart gently so he can enter him again.

He does so with astounding ease, just fucking into Hoseok all the way without meeting any sort of resistance from the younger’s body. He gasps against Seokjin’s lips as he buries himself in him again, and shit, it feels almost better than before. His dick is trapped between his and Seokjin’s stomachs rather than rubbing against the sheets of his bed, and he gets to wrap his legs around Seokjin’s body and pull him close like this. He gets to kiss him, too. He gets to see the way the muscles of his body flex with every thrust of his hips, as well as the faces he makes. He gets to swallow the moans that escape his throat, and to let his own sounds of pleasure –the ones he can’t keep in— mingle with Seokjin’s breaths between their mouths.

The beginning of the end takes place when Seokjin wraps his hand around Hoseok’s cock. A loud sigh of pleasure escapes him, and it stretches long in the hot air of the room because Seokjin starts pumping him quickly, using Hoseok’s precum as lube, so the pleasure burning in him scalds brighter and hotter than before.

“Shit, hyung— you’re so good, you fuck me so good,” he groans, beyond gone. He pulls Seokjin closer with his legs, and he buries one of his hands in the elder’s hair. He tugs on it while he buries the fingernails of his other hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, desperate for something to hold onto. Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind it, though. He simply keeps going, kissing the life out of Hoseok while he fucks the life out of him, too.

It doesn’t last much longer. Hoseok comes first, when the stimulation to his prostate and his cock become far too much, his cum landing all over Seokjin’s hand, but also on his and Seokjin’s stomachs and chests. The older man pulls away from the kiss just enough so he can press kisses to the side of Hoseok’s face instead, all the while mumbling little words of appraisal and encouragement. It all has Hoseok flying— it’s probably the most intense orgasm of his life. Usually, the pleasure comes from just his dick getting stimulated, but this time it’s so much more than that. He moans, loud and high, and the pleasure that overcomes him starts in the very core of his being. He arches his back off the mattress, and he pulls Seokjin as close as he can while his muscles burn, tensing and releasing with the waves of his orgasm. He can feel himself tightening around Seokjin’s dick like he’s trying to keep him inside of him forever, and the wild thought that he’d like that very much surges through his mind before dying like a shooting star.

It’s so intense, it makes his whole body feel drained at once, but even after the heat starts to wane, he doesn’t want it to stop. He doesn’t know where he gets the strength to, but he clings to Seokjin’s body and nuzzles the side of his face.

“Keep going, hyung,” he tells him. “Don’t stop, baby— keep fucking me until you come.”

“Jesus, Hobi, babe—” Seokjin moans, and he does exactly that. This time, Hoseok not only gets to see the look on Seokjin’s face when he comes, but he also gets to feel him pulsing inside of him, twitching hot against the walls of his ass. It’s unreal. Like the previous times, Seokjin goes perfectly quiet when he comes, even if his lips are parted into what could be a moan, and his eyes scrunch up in seemingly interminable pleasure. Hoseok strokes his hair, and then, before the older man is even done coming, Hoseok kisses him.

He kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him until he can’t feel his lips. Seokjin is still inside of him, even if he’s already getting soft, but Hoseok doesn’t want him to get away. Not yet. Not until his body has recovered from the earth-shattering orgasm he just had. Not until his mind has come back from the trip it took to a different dimension, altering his entire identity in the process.

Seokjin’s hand is filthy with Hoseok’s cum, but so is Hoseok’s body, so the younger doesn’t mind it when Seokjin’s hand starts running up and down his stomach, soothingly.

When they finally pull apart, Seokjin’s lips are red, swollen, and glistening in the morning light. He looks completely wrecked, all sweaty and with his skin flushed. Hoseok can’t help but wonder if he accidentally hurt his back with his fingernails as he runs them gently down the older man’s chest.

“You called me babe,” Hoseok states, breathless. It’s the first thing he says after they’ve pulled away from their kiss, and of course it’s a stupid thing.

Seokjin is panting, struggling to catch his breath, but he laughs at that. His eyes crinkle (prettily) in the sun, and after maneuvering himself so that he’s propping his body on his cum-dirty hand, he brings the clean one to stroke Hoseok’s cheek with the sides of his fingers. It’s only a subtle gesture, but it makes Hoseok’s chest swell up, and it makes him unconsciously rub his foot against Seokjin’s calf.

“And you called me baby,” the older man says, and Hoseok hums, nodding and blushing a little when he remembers. “You liked it?”

“I did, yeah. No one had ever called me that during sex,” Hoseok answers, his voice lowering a little. “It was always high-pitched screams of ’oppa’, you know?”

Seokjin laughs again, louder this time, and Hoseok doesn’t only watch, but he joins in as well.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” Seokjin says. “I think I like the sounds you make a lot more…”

Hoseok hums at that, shivering a little when Seokjin finally pulls out, but holding onto the sides of his body to prevent him from getting away yet. The muscle of his legs ache him terribly, as well as his asshole, and he just feels like he ran a thousand marathons, but there’s also a warm blanket of comfort and pleasure wrapped around every cell of his body. He doesn’t want to move, and he doesn’t want Seokjin to move either. Even if the blankets are dirty, even if they themselves are dirty, and even if when Hoseok pulls Seokjin closer he ends up sandwiched between the older man’s weight and the mattress below him. He doesn’t want to move.

“Yeah, I like the sounds you make more, too.”

“Hmm. I’ll keep it in mind. Babe.”

Hoseok hisses softly at that, but he smiles. He can hear Seokjin’s smirk in his voice, but he pulls him closer anyway. The exhaustion is getting all mixed up with the sleepiness that never left his body to begin with after waking up, so although they should get up, Hoseok wants nothing more but to cuddle for a couple of minutes. An hour, tops.

“Shut up, hyung,” he says, lazy but demanding at the same time. “Let’s go back to sleep for a while.”

“I’m still wearing the condom, though— give me a second.” Hoseok resists the urge to whine in complaint when Seokjin pulls back for a moment so he can remove the condom, tie a knot on it, and then discard it on the floor of Hoseok’s room (which makes Hoseok’s inner neat freak emit a gasp of horror). “I’ll pick it up later,” Seokjin waves him off, probably reading his mind. “Then, I’ll make us breakfast, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Fuck, yes, please,” Hoseok replies, satisfied, and he clings onto Seokjin as soon as he can.

He isn’t normally like this, he really isn’t, but sex always has him feeling like this; like he will combust if he doesn’t receive the cuddles he needs when his body is at its most vulnerable state (which is the reason why he leaves the morning after one-night stands and not as soon as the sex is over; he almost always needs a bit of cuddling, no matter who the other person is.)

(No matter if he feels something for them or not).

(In this case, he isn’t sure where Seokjin stands exactly).



Saturday morning sex turns into Saturday morning brunch when they wake up for the second time a few hours later. Hoseok’s body still aches, and his cells are still coated in the sticky kind of caramel that lingers in him after sex, but he is considerably more awake and sobered up after their late morning nap. He takes a shower while Seokjin makes breakfast in the kitchen, and although he can’t stop thinking about everything that happened and how good and right it felt, he has enough control over his mind to force himself to focus on the information stickers behind the shampoo bottles to prevent himself from getting hard again.

After Seokjin is out of the shower, they eat together on Hoseok’s couch, and things are a little bit awkward at first.

They turn on the TV and set it on a random channel while they sit a considerable distance away from each other, far enough so that they aren’t touching. However, the awkwardness and the tension disappears eventually, when Seokjin starts rubbing at his neck, his face contorting into one of discomfort. Hoseok asks him if he is okay, and when Seokjin tells him he thinks he pulled a muscle or something, Hoseok scoots closer and starts massaging Seokjin’s shoulders and the base of his neck.

That little bit of contact is all it takes for the weird walls they built between them by sitting away from each other and keeping their conversation to a minimum to come crashing down at once. Hoseok may or may not have succumbed to his instincts and peppered a few kisses at the top of Seokjin’s back, on his shoulders, but if he did, it was only because Seokjin reached up for Hoseok’s hands so he could tangle their fingers together and try to distract him from his task at hand.

That night, Seokjin slept over again.

They stayed all day on the couch together, watching dumb movie after dumb movie while the sun moved lower and lower on the sky. They didn’t kiss again until much later, but Hoseok would be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to, especially considering how they were kind of… tangled up on each other. Cuddling. On the couch. They could have kissed, and Hoseok’s instincts wanted him to kiss Seokjin, but he didn’t. Kissing during sex makes sense, but kissing while they are cuddling is way, way different.

But he does kiss him, eventually. When the credits of the fourth movie of the day start rolling up the screen, and the sky outside is dyed black already. Seokjin mentions something about how he ‘should head home already’, and Hoseok doesn’t intend to stop him. Really. Seokjin had spent a long time with him already, so Hoseok is sure he has stuff to take care of at home.


Seokjin doesn’t make a move to get up and go. He simply remains there, carding his fingers through Hoseok’s hair while Hoseok strokes his arm idly. Before he knows it, their lips seek each other’s out, and instead of telling Seokjin goodbye, Hoseok throws his arms around his neck and kisses him hard as he pushes him down on the couch.

They have sex again. Full, actual, penetrative gay sex, for the third time, and this time, Seokjin rides Hoseok. Needless to say, the younger doesn’t last very long— how could he? He comes almost embarrassingly soon, while Seokjin fucks himself down on his cock, moans into his ear, and calls him babe.

After that, a few days pass before they meet up again at night.

Monday at work is boring, as is Tuesday, and by Wednesday, Hoseok has reached an entire new level of boredom. He has to teach a dance class that day, which will surely help him unwind, but he also texts Seokjin to ask him if he would like to, you know, “hang out” afterwards. Drink something or eat something together. Netflix and chill together. And Seokjin did want to, so he picks Hoseok up after his class is done, and he drives them to his place.

Originally, Hoseok intended to have sex with Seokjin again, but what happens is something else.

He uses Seokjin’s washing machine to clean his office clothes for the next day, since he’s staying over, and in the meantime, Seokjin orders fried chicken for the both of them. When Seokjin goes into his laundry room (because his apartment is nice enough that it has a laundry room in it), one thing leads to another –which is usual for them—, and they end up making out against the washing machine.

That’s as far as they go all night.

Just holding each other, tightly, while Hoseok sits on the washing machine and Seokjin stands between his legs. It’s not a desperate kiss, but rather, it’s kind of lazy. It smells like Seokjin’s laundry detergent and fabric softener, and it tastes like they both had a really long day. Hoseok’s fingers are curled in Seokjin’s perfect hair while Seokjin holds him by the waist, and it goes on forever. They only pull away when the bell rings and the chicken they ordered arrives.

After eating, they went to sleep. No sex, just cuddling— like a couple of old men.

Like a couple.


It’s ridiculous, Hoseok realizes.

It’s insane.

His heart is starting to beat double time whenever he looks at Seokjin, which is not good at all.

The next day, he wakes up nestled against Seokjin’s chest, with the older man’s arms wrapped around him and holding him close, and their legs are tangled up.

Hoseok feels happy when he wakes up— intoxicated by happiness in the form of Seokjin’s scent, and of Seokjin’s arms wrapped around him. Hoseok feels warm there, and content, and perhaps even loved. However, the more he wakes up, the more he realizes that this is not it. He’s not exactly loved by Seokjin. Sure, the older man loves him cause they’re best friends and they’ve been around each other for years, and sure, they’ve fucked around and had great gay sex lately in spite of neither of the two being gay, but that doesn’t mean he loves Hoseok like that.

Just like he doesn’t love Seokjin like that. He shouldn’t mistake the level of intimacy they’ve reached for anything more than trust and a huge deal of unexpected sexual compatibility. This was never about anything other than curiosity. Or rather, alcohol and curiosity.

They turned into friends with benefits along the way, which has been very convenient, but that doesn’t mean— it doesn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.

At the end of the day, he’s still straight. He still would like to meet a girl, fall in love with her, marry her, and have a pretty family with her. What Seokjin and he have had so far has been… Fun. To say the least. They’ve explored a lot, and ever since the night they went to the gay club together, Hoseok has done many things he never imagined he’d do. He’s felt things he never imagined he’d feel.

But it’s not forever.

They haven’t talked about it, but it’s obvious Seokjin feels the same way. Seokjin is similar to him, and they want similar things – they want to meet a girl, fall in love with her, marry her, and have a pretty family with her. That’s what they have to do, and that’s what they’re going to do. This, what they have, is a simple detour from their main goal.

That’s what it is, Hoseok tells himself as he takes one deep breath of Seokjin’s cologne and rubs his nose against his clavicle.

That’s all it is, as Seokjin squeezes him between his arms and angles his face down so he can kiss him, his nose scrunching at the horrible taste of morning breath.

That’s all it will be, before they jump into the shower together, giggling like dumb teens, and get each other off with quick handjobs under the spray of hot water.

And it’s going end soon, one last time, when he leans over the gearshift of Seokjin’s expensive car to kiss him one last time, when he drops him off at work.

They will get bored. Things will go back to normal. They will forget their blood starts boiling with need when they so much as look each other, and Hoseok will stop thinking about Seokjin every moment of every day. He will forget what it’s like to fuck him, or to be fucked by him, and he will go back to living his regular, mostly drama-free heterosexual life. Seokjin will too, and when they meet up ten years from now, they’ll have their wives and kids with them, and they’ll laugh about the dumb things they used to do when they were younger.


That’s what’s going to happen.

(Nobody has to know that there’s a part inside of Hoseok, a huge part inside of him, that prays every night for the end not to happen soon. There is still so much of Seokjin he wants to learn, so many things he wants to try, so many things he wants Seokjin to do to him… And not only that, but there are still so many more nights he wants to fall asleep with Seokjin’s chest against his back. Many more mornings he wants to eat Seokjin’s delicious homemade breakfast. Many more bad movies he wants to watch with him. He’ll get bored eventually, he will, but in the meantime, Hoseok is perfectly fine with the way things are).



On Friday noon, Taehyung sends a message to their group chat asking the question that is always asked on a Friday: whether someone else is up for having drinks together at their usual bar in Hongdae, at eight pm, with Jungkook and him. By some kind of miracle, it seems like everybody can make it. Hoseok is the first one to reply, sending a long ’yessssss’ with a million different smiley face emojis. Namjoon replies saying both he and Yoongi would love to go, and Jimin replies saying he can go too.

Hoseok is gnawing on his lips, waiting for Seokjin’s reply while he sits on his desk at work. He hopes he’ll say yes— surely, afterwards, they can go to either of their houses and spend the night together. It’s only been one day since the last time they hung out, but Hoseok (and Hoseok’s body) is already starting to miss the older man (and his body)—

Suddenly, his phone vibrates with a new message, and when he reads it, he frowns in disappointment and a strange feeling of unease settles in his chest.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 11:47 AM)
sorry, loves. I’m going to be busy tonight :( but have fun without me!


Taehyungie: (sent at 11:47 AM)
aww but how could we have fun without you hyung :((((


Jiminie: (sent at 11:48 AM)
Yeah hyung :( it’s all of us except you? that’s no good :(


Hoseok is really curious about this— he has spent a lot of time with Seokjin lately, but he never mentioned being busy on Friday. He was pretty sure he would be able to make it tonight.


Hobi: (sent at 11:48 AM)
are you going to be busy with work stuff, hyung? another fancy dinner to attend? ;))


Seokjin’s answer comes almost right away, and when Hoseok reads it, he feels like he got punched in the stomach.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 11:48 AM)
No… I have a date actually? I think you could call it that…


Hoseok sits up straight on his chair at that, which causes it to creak noisily and startle the bored girl sitting next to his desk.

He takes a deep breath, but his frown deepens when he sees all their friends cooing, filling the group chat with heart emojis, eye emojis, and eggplant emojis. Hoseok feels betrayed, which is weird, no doubt. It’s probably because he’s been spending so much time with Seokjin lately, and has gotten so close to him, that it really sucks that Seokjin didn’t, you know, tell him beforehand that he had plans with someone else. As his friend, his best friend, he deserves to know that kind of thing.

(He also has no idea what Seokjin could want a date for when he has him, but he won’t admit that, not even to himself).


Hobi: (sent at 11:50 AM)
a date, wow


He scowls down at his phone as he types. He knows he’s texting in a tone that Seokjin will probably identify as ironic, but he hopes it sounds genuine enough for the others.


Hobi: (sent at 11:50 AM)
you’re finally gonna get some hyung, after so long!! amazing, congrats!


He even throws in the party popper emoji at the end, for good measure.

All Seokjin replies with is the eyeroll emoji, though, which only irritates Hoseok more for no valid reason at all, but then he receives another text from him, though not through the group chat. The words ’Hobi, can I call you?’ appear in a banner at the top of the screen of his phone, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance as he taps on it.

’I’m at work. Maybe later.’, he sends before he locks his phone and puts it down on the table, screen facing down.

Only a few seconds go by before he picks the phone up again and texts back, on second thought.

’good luck on your date.’

For the rest of the day, he pretty much ignores his phone. He only uses it to play around a little bit when it gets too slow at the call center, and he only goes into Kakao once, hours later, to see what other things his friends have said. Apparently, they started talking about finding Hoseok a girlfriend, but then Yoongi said how there was no need to do that because Hoseok was going through a phase of celibacy and had rejected Yoongi when he offered to introduce him to a friend of his—

Hoseok nearly dies when he reads that. Seokjin replied to Yoongi’s message with a few surprised emojis, and Hoseok wants nothing more but for the earth to eject him and send him to the sun. And to punch Yoongi for talking about things like that. It’s not like it’s a private matter, but he doesn’t need Seokjin to know he turned down a date because he’s going “through a phase of celibacy” because he’s not, and Seokjin knows he’s not, because he’s spent the last couple of weeks in bed with Hoseok.

He doesn’t need Seokjin to know that, because Seokjin is going to go on a date tonight, because clearly the fact that they’ve been fucking around doesn’t matter. Clearly, going on dates and meeting other people is what they should be doing. Turning dates down in order to keep on fucking around with each other is not. As usual, and from the first moment, Hoseok is the one making things weird.

When he’s at the bar with the others that night, he can’t concentrate on anything.

He’s there, but he isn’t really there at all. He knows the others are having a good time, talking and laughing and joking around. Jimin is sitting between Jungkook and Taehyung (which is a little suspicious), and Namjoon and Yoongi are sitting next to Hoseok, their hands clasped together under the table. However, Hoseok isn’t looking at them. Nor at anything. He’s just playing with the straw of his drink –a non-alcoholic margarita because he doesn’t like to get drunk when he’s in a bad mood—, using it to stir the content of his glass, while he thinks about the one thing that has been stuck to his brain like a parasite for the past few hours. Or days. Or weeks.


Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin.

So what if Seokjin has a date?

That’s good for him. Good for the two of them, actually. If Seokjin goes and get himself a girlfriend, then they’ll finally be able to stop fooling around and pull their shit together. He knew what they had was temporary; that it was just for a while, until their curiosities were satisfied and somebody else came along for them. They never talked about it, but it was obvious that that was how it was supposed to go down.

It bothers Hoseok, of course, but only because there was no warning. Seokjin didn’t tell him anything beforehand— he just went and announced he had a date through the group chat. Even after they slept –only slept— together just two nights ago. Hoseok can’t help but think— will Seokjin and the girl hold hands? Would she want to hold hands with him if she knew that Seokjin jerked him off with that same hand just yesterday? What would she think if she knew that Hoseok was literally inside him just a few days ago? Would she be okay with that? Seokjin wouldn’t tell her, obviously, but what if he did? What if Hoseok did?

Was anyone ever going to find out that Hoseok and Seokjin had been together like that? By the looks of it, nobody else knew. Nobody. And if they kept it that way, then nobody would ever know, and this past month or so will forever be nothing but a secret memory shared by he and Seokjin. And Hoseok doesn’t know how he feels about that.

“Are you alright, Hobi-hyung?” Someone asks, and when Hoseok looks up from his glass he sees it’s Taehyung. He looks a little concerned, even if he also seems perfectly comfortable and happy there, with an arm around Jimin’s shoulders, Jungkook’s hand in his, and his cheeks a little rosy due to the fruity cocktail he’s drinking.

“I’m fine,” Hoseok replies, hoping it sounds honest even if it’s not. Not really. His chest feels heavy, his stomach feels like one giant uncomfortable knot, and he can’t stop thinking about the fact that Seokjin is out there, on a date, and he didn’t tell him about it.

“You don’t seem very fine, to be honest. No offense,” Yoongi interjects from where he’s sitting next to Hoseok, giving him a once over and frowning in disapproval. “Is it about work?”

“No, hyung— it’s nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Hoseok insists, waving them off. “I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all. It wasn’t the best week. But I’m okay.”

Jimin pouts a little at that, “You sure?” he asks, reaching over the table to pat Hoseok’s hand affectionately a few times. “It’s not like you to be so… I don’t know. Gloomy.”

Hoseok smiles a little, and he shakes his head. “I’m really fine, Jiminie. Just tired. Don’t worry; I’ll be back to normal tomorrow morning. I’m sorry for worrying you all.”

Yoongi hums, glancing at Hoseok with wariness through the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t say anything. He just reaches with his free hand to pat Hoseok’s shoulder gently, and really, for the time being, that’s all it takes for him to feel a little bit better.

He manages to get distracted enough, but it only lasts for a few hours, because as soon as he’s back home, he can’t help but think— he could be coming home with Seokjin. That’s literally the first thought that crosses his mind as soon as he steps into his apartment. They’d probably stumble around the entryway, kissing hungrily while they struggle to take their shoes and jackets off. But, nope. Not this time. This is the first Friday night in a couple of weeks that he’s not going to spend with Seokjin, and it sucks.

Seokjin doesn’t text him again that night, so, presumably, his date goes well.

Hoseok huffs a little when he checks his phone for the last time, and after he settles it on the night stand, he curls up onto himself under the blankets.

He misses Seokjin, he realizes. The weight in his chest and the knot in his stomach, and the fact that he’s so angry and can’t stop thinking about him, all those things mean just that: that he misses Seokjin, even when he’s out there, having fun with someone else and not thinking about him.

Even when he’s out there, not thinking about him, which is what they should both be doing.



Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 9:27 AM)
hey Hobi, are you awake?

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 9:30 AM)

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 9:30 AM)
Guess not

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 9:31 AM)
Listen, yesterday was kind of… weird, right? So, I was thinking, if you’re up for it, you could come over and I can make lunch, or if you don’t wanna come, I could just bring lunch to your house?? It doesn’t matter to me. it’s just so we can. you know. Talk. or hang out. or something. I just don’t want you to be upset, and I’m sorry if I gave you reasons to. I can tell you about what happened yesterday if you want. ok? :(


Seokjin’s texts are the first thing Hoseok sees when he wakes up, and, he can’t lie, they do make him a little bit happy. It still sucks that one week ago, he was waking up to Seokjin kissing and feeling him up (and then fucking him), and he could’ve had the same thing today as well.

However, and as sleepy as his mind still is and as bleary as his eyes still are, he realizes— it’s not good that Seokjin thinks he’s upset that he went on a date, is it? The older man is aware that Hoseok turned down the possibility of a blind date of his own, so if, on top of that, he thinks Hoseok is upset because he went on a date, then he might get the wrong idea. He might believe that Hoseok feels something other than friendship towards him, and that just can’t happen because it would ruin them.

The best thing, he thinks, is to act like there’s nothing wrong.

So, after a few moments of clearing his head from the drowsiness, he replies to Seokjin.


Hobi: (sent at 10:32 AM)
Hey hyung, I’m not upset lmao

Hobi: (sent at 10:32 AM)
But you can come over if you want


The number one next to Hoseok’s texts disappears almost immediately, and Seokjin’s answer comes just as soon, and it’s a little bit suspicious.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:32 AM)
hmmm if you say so


Hoseok feels compelled to say something at that; to ask Seokjin what he means. But before he can say anything, he gets another message from Seokjin.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 10:32 AM)
anyways, I’ll bring lunch over, then? i’ll buy something on the way. any special requests? ^^


Hobi: (sent at 10:33 AM)
Nah, anything is fine. Thank you hyung ^^


However, it’s hard to act like there is nothing wrong. Hoseok is upset, and when Seokjin gets to his place, it’s like the annoyance in him only grows bigger and heavier. He looks so good. He always has, for as long as Hoseok has known him, but it’s like he only started to realize now just how effortlessly good looking his friend is. Seokjin dresses more casually on weekends, with fluffy sweaters and comfy jeans, and Hoseok doesn’t know if he likes this style better on him, or if he’s more into the formal office get-ups he wears on weekdays (or, if he’s more into the way he looks when he isn’t wearing anything at all).

“Hey,” Seokjin greets him when Hoseok opens the door, his lips curving upwards on a warm smile.

“Hi,” Hoseok replies, and fuck, he wants nothing more but to pull Seokjin in and kiss him. To trace his hands over his chest so he can see just how soft and fluffy his sweater is. To tell him to stay over forever because what the fuck does he even need dates for when Hoseok can give him anything he wants if he asks for it? Friendship? Check. Someone to drink beer with after a rough day? Check— He’s been doing that with Seokjin for ages. Someone to cuddle? Check. Someone to watch bad TV with? Check. Someone to fuck? Check. Someone to get fucked by? Check.

Check, check, check—

Instead of saying anything, or doing anything, he simply lets Seokjin in. Things are unusually quiet between them, though, and Hoseok feels a strange tension fizzling under his skin as he helps Seokjin get the food from the bags.

It isn’t until they’re sitting on Hoseok’s couch, laps full of disposable cardboard boxes of Chinese take-out, that they actually talk.

They’re far away from each other, sitting down with enough distance between them to allow them not to touch, just like they were one week ago, the morning after Seokjin fucked Hoseok for the first time. This time things are a considerably tenser, though. Hoseok is annoyed, and, dare he say, he’s even jealous – not that he’ll admit any of that out loud.

“So… You went on a date yesterday, then?” Hoseok asks, without even sparing Seokjin a glance.

“I… Yeah, I did,” the older man admits. “It was a set-up blind date, though.”

“Yeah, I know. You said that on the group chat, remember?” Hoseok reminds him, perhaps a little snarkily. “Was it good?”

Seokjin lets out a non-committal sound, and when Hoseok dares look at him he sees him shrugging.

“It was nice, I guess. She was cool, and funny, and very smart, too. And pretty.”

Hoseok feels a little sick to his stomach for some reason. He actually has to put his chopsticks down in the carton of food.

“So, you like her?” he asks, still looking at him. He can tell his brow is furrowed, and he wishes he could control it, but he can’t. He looks upset, because he is upset, and Seokjin isn’t making things better.

The older man looks away from his own food and at him instead, their eyes meeting across the miles and miles of couch between them.

“Not really, no. At least not yet.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says, the annoyance bubbling inside of him not appeased in the slightest. “You’re going to go out with her again, then? See if she’ll put out in the second date? You don’t sound as excited about her, so I take it you haven’t fucked her yet—”

“—Hoseok, what the fuck are you talking about?” Seokjin stops him, almost disgusted at Hoseok’s admittedly stupid words.

Hoseok shrugs.

“You know what I’m talking about. When we were in school that was how you did things, wasn’t it? Go out with girls and fuck them as soon as you had a chance to.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Seokjin huffs, growing more irritated by the second. “You know, it’s our parents who are trying to set us up. It’s not like I chose to go out with her, dumbass. Our parents are business partners, and I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m turning thirty at the end of the year, and still haven’t gotten married. Joohyun-noona is one year older than me, and she’s still single too. Of course my parents didn’t say it, but they’re worried, and so are Joohyun’s if they’re making her go on dates with the son of their associates. If Joohyun and I hit it off and got married, it’d be the perfect arrangement for everybody—"

“—it sounds like a load of bullshit to me,” Hoseok says, slurping his food noisily. He’s only a little bit less upset now that he knows Seokjin didn’t put himself out there looking for dates, but still. He could’ve chosen not to go, couldn’t he? His parents don’t have much control over him anymore, so if he said yes… Perhaps he is trying to get rid of Hoseok, after all. Which makes sense. Hoseok should be trying to get rid of Seokjin as well – and perhaps he’ll manage to if he keeps on being mean to him. “You’re a grown-up, aren’t you? They can’t force you to go out with people anymore.”

“How’d you know?” Seokjin asks, arching one of his thick eyebrows. “You’ve never been in this situation before. You know they can make me.”

Hoseok snorts.

“Alright, so, what are you gonna do, then? Go and marry the very first girl they push in your direction to make them happy?”

No, Hoseok. Fuck—!” he exclaims, a bit too loudly, putting his food container down on the table before he turns to look at Hoseok again, a sharp look in his eyes. Hoseok nearly flinches, but he stands his ground. He keeps sitting back on the couch, as comfortably as he can, hoping it doesn’t show that he’s actually uneasy. Seokjin goes on after giving him a once over. “Why are you being so difficult? What’s going on? Do you have a problem with all this, is that it?” he asks, his voice still loud. “Do you not want me to go out? Because if that’s the thing, then you can tell me, you know? If you’re jealous, or whatever, then—”

At that Hoseok can’t help but jump, his annoyance turning into fear of being found out. He disguises that as indignation, though.

“—Jealous? Me?” He asks, raising his voice. “Of what? What would I be jealous of? I don’t give a shit about what you do! Since when have I?”

“But then why are you being such a bitch about all of this?!”

“I’m not!” Hoseok huffs, stopping to run a hand through his hair and then put his own food on the table. “You’re unbelievable. You think the whole world revolves around you, don’t you? That just because we’ve, you know, fucked around a few times, now I’m concerned about what you do with your life?”

“You’re not?” Seokjin asks, and Hoseok shakes his head.

“No, I’m not!” he states, even if it’s a lie. “I don’t care! So, it sucks that you’re trying to make it sound like you don’t want to go out with this girl, when you clearly do! You talk all this shit about being old and needing to get married to someone to make your parents happy— if that’s what you want, then go and do it! I’m not gonna stop you!”

Seokjin’s eyes narrow, and his jaw locks at that. He’s angry, Hoseok can tell, and he’s almost proud of that. Perhaps this is better. As long as it doesn’t ruin their friendship and they can make up afterwards, perhaps a fight like this is just what they need to turn the page on their adventure and leave it behind once and for all.

He stands up, so when he talks back to Hoseok, he has to look down at him. “You clearly don’t know shit about what I want.”

“Oh, you think I don’t?” Hoseok replies, standing up as well. He is only a few centimeters shorter than Seokjin, so they’re pretty much eye to eye. “You want the same things as me. Meet a girl, marry her, and have kids. Make your family proud and happy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what we all want!”

“No. You know what? That’s not what I want, and honestly, I doubt that’s what you want, too.”

“And how can you even know that?”

“Because I know. Why would you turn down meeting and going out with a girl who, according to Yoongi, is perfect for you? Why would you be acting like a bitch about me going out with someone?”

Hoseok feels cornered at that. He opens his mouth to try to say something, but it takes a few tries –a few embarrassing tries—, before he finally makes a sound.

“And you think any of that means something? So what if I didn’t want to go out with someone? So what if I’m being a ‘bitch’, like you say?” he says, stepping closer to Seokjin instinctively. “Do you think it has something to do with you—?”

“—then tell me, Hoseok,” Seokjin interrupts him, bringing his hands to Hoseok’s arms and holding onto them. The touch sends fire shooting across Hoseok’s body, as does the look in the older man’s eyes. “Tell me, right now, to my face, that you don’t want me.”

Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat at that.

“That I— that I what?”

“That you don’t want me. Tell me,” Seokjin insists, squeezing Hoseok’s biceps with his hands. “That you really, really don’t give a shit about what I do. That you haven’t thought about… you know, about dating me, or, or something like that. Tell me, and I’ll fuck off. We’ll stop this little game, and we’ll go back to how things were.”

“I—,” Hoseok starts, licking his lips and looking right into Seokjin’s eyes. The older man has a wild glint in his eyes, almost like he’s desperate. He’s holding tightly onto Hoseok and nearly panting because of their argument, and shit— even like this, he looks beautiful.

For a moment, Hoseok considers saying no. He considers saying that he does want Seokjin, and that he has thought about what it would be like to be with him. Considers telling him he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Telling him that he wants to be with him on Friday nights, yes, because his body wants him and craves him more than anything and anyone, but that he also wants him on boring Saturday afternoons, or Sunday mornings, so that they can cuddle together on the couch while they waste the day away watching bad movies.

But he can’t.

What would they gain if he did that? Could they even be together? Seokjin’s parents are trying to set him up with girls to marry already, and Hoseok knows it’s a matter of time before his own parents start annoying him about the same thing.

He likes Seokjin, yes, and he likes being with him. They’ve been friends for years, so they know each other as well as they know themselves. But, just as Hoseok said to Seokjin last week while they were talking about Hoseok’s relationship with Minah, there are way more things at stake the more time you spend with another person and the more you get to know them. Being together, although it feels easy and great when it’s just the two of them, really isn’t as easy in the outer world.

Hoseok loves Seokjin, he really, really does, but at the end of the day, he’s still straight. He’s not into men, no matter how into Seokjin he is. Being with him would mean, sooner or later, saying goodbye, either because their parents won’t tolerate what they have, or because Seokjin will get bored of him, or because Hoseok will meet a girl and realize that he wants to be with her, and that all the risks he took to be with Seokjin, and all the time he spent with Seokjin, were all for nothing.

Because it’s not forever, and it was never meant to be forever.

“Hyung, I’m not gay, I’m— I’m sorry,” he says, after taking a deep shaky breath. “You’re my best friend, and I really love you a lot, you know? But— I just couldn’t be with you. This was never going to be like that, and you know that. It was just supposed to be for fun, only for a while, so now that you have a chance to meet someone you can build a future with, you should, you know, take it. And I should probably do the same thing. We can’t go on doing what we’ve been doing.”

Seokjin lets out a humorless chuckle at that, and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes in frustration.

“So you really don’t feel anything, then. You really, really don’t care if I go on dates, and find a girlfriend, and get married some day in the future?”

Yes, Hoseok cares. Of course Hoseok cares. Of course Hoseok feels something.

But the problem is, does that even matter? In the long run, will it matter? Perhaps it’s better to take this little fall now, before things get far too serious and the risks are even bigger. Perhaps it’s better to take a step back now that they can, now that everything is still a secret, now that they’re still in time to push reset and go back to how things were before.

Hoseok nods.

“I really don’t care, hyung,” he says, trying to sound as certain as he can even if he’s everything but. “It’s better like this.”

Seokjin doesn’t move at first, though. He just keeps holding his stare, his eyes still narrowed, but searching, searching— scanning over Hoseok’s face as if he’s reading the truth that’s probably written all over it. Hoseok doesn’t doubt for a second that he found it.

“Alright,” the older man says eventually, finally pulling away from Hoseok. “If you think it’s really for the best, then there’s nothing left to do. Perhaps you’re right.”

Hoseok looks at him, and for a split second, he gets a flashback. Looking at Seokjin’s face, his handsome features contorted into a look of annoyance, he’s suddenly reminded of the way he looked the last time they were together, only two days ago, when Hoseok made him come with his hand under the spray of hot water in the shower. He’s reminded of the way Seokjin looked like when he fucked him for the first time, with the light of the morning sun bathing the room and shimmering on his sweaty skin like glitter. He’s reminded of the warmth he felt whenever he woke up with his back against the older man’s chest.

“Of course I’m right. I mean, it was going to end sooner or later, wasn’t it? We both knew that, hyung.”

Seokjin chuckles again, still unamused.

“Right,” he says, dryly. He takes a step back from Hoseok after that, and then another, until he’s far enough for Hoseok to even try to reach. “We did. Anyway, now that that’s settled, I think I should go home.”

Hoseok desperately wants to tell him that he should stay. That he was lying. That that’s how he thinks, but definitely not how he feels. That if it were up to Hoseok’s feelings, then shit, he’d probably never let Seokjin go. That if things were simpler, and there was no future, no family, no responsibilities, and no internalized panic, then everything would be so different.

But he doesn’t.


Now, Hoseok isn’t new to letting people go and walk out of his life when his head tells him that it’s for the best, but for some reason, after Seokjin closes the door to his apartment, Hoseok is left feeling like he made the worst decision of his life.

Chapter Text

Hoseok isn’t new to feeling alone.

There have been many moments in his life where he has felt like he has nobody he can turn to; nobody he can go to for advice, or for a shoulder to lean his head on and cry for a while. Most of those moments were during his teenage years, which is probably the case for the vast majority of people, but there have also been times later on, during his early and late twenties, where he has felt hopelessly alone.

However, technically speaking, he hasn’t been alone alone. There’s always been people around him, be it his friends or his family, and until a while back, his girlfriend. And although that kind of company was often enough to keep him happy and energized, at times not even the physical presence of somebody else comforted him the way he needed to. At times, the kind of loneliness he has felt is one that runs deeper. It’s not a common occurrence, thank god, and his more recent slumps don’t seem to last as long as his episodes of teenage angst, but perhaps that makes them all the more painful.

The moment Seokjin leaves, the door of Hoseok’s apartment shutting behind him with a loud noise just shy of a bang, Hoseok feels numb for a few long minutes.

Completely stunned.

He doesn’t feel alone, though. Not right away.

He just stays there, right where he is, standing in the middle of his tiny living room, while the food in the Chinese takeout containers on his coffee table get colder and colder.

There’s a flurry of emotions in his chest, all of them unpleasant. He feels foolish and hurt, regretful, and like the meanest, cruelest fucking person on the face of the earth. He feels like he deserves Seokjin leaving, that he deserves feeling like shit for making him feel like shit with the venomous words he spat at him— but a quieter, darker part of himself feels like Seokjin deserves it too, for letting things reach the point where they both hurt (even if he knows he is just as guilty of this). He feels like the combination of the smell of stir-fried noodles and his own stupidity will make him throw up, but he also feels like throwing up would be less painful and disgusting than any of the shit that’s going through his head right now.

He distracts himself from everything by cleaning up.

His apartment wasn’t dirty or messy before, not at all, but the rest of the day he dedicates himself to cleaning it meticulously. He gets rid of the food, both the leftovers in the containers in the living room, but also of the side dishes and the two fortune cookies Seokjin brought along as well, which they left in a plastic bag in the kitchen to eat afterwards. Hoseok throws it all away, even if he hates wasting food and he loves fortune cookies. He sweeps and mops the floors, changes his bedsheets, does his laundry in the common laundry room of his apartment building, and cleans every surface of his place until the only things he can smell are bleach and the scent of chemical lavender.

The loneliness doesn’t kick in until later, when he no longer has anything left to do and the sun is beginning to set between the tall buildings of the city, dyeing everything with a pretty orange light that contrasts starkly with Hoseok’s inner turmoil.

Everything is so quiet, so clean. He’s lying on the couch, sprawled across it to rest his muscles after his frenzied cleaning, when he realizes how alone he is.

His hands squeeze around the edges of his phone.

Taehyung texted him about an hour ago asking him if he’d like to join him, Jungkook, and Jimin and go to the cinema with them. He has unread messages from Yoongi, two pictures he hasn’t seen yet followed by a text that says ’which one? that probably refers to either clothes or hair dye. Namjoon sent him something on Instagram from a page dedicated to videos of puppies they both like to cry over.

He’s not alone, he really isn’t, but then, there’s radio silence from Seokjin.

Hoseok takes a deep breath and he shuts his eyes as he abandons his phone without opening a single notification, the screen down against his chest.

Radio silence from Seokjin. A silence that is somehow louder than the noise from his other friends.

Hoseok frowns.

For all he knows, the older man is out there with the girl from yesterday once again, being a good son, and a charming bachelor and potential boyfriend. Doing what he’s supposed to do. Doing what Hoseok is supposed to be doing as well: stop fucking around uselessly, get his shit together, and find someone he can have a family with.

Hoseok sighs, unexplainably breathless from an unfamiliar weight pressing on his chest. He crosses his arms and wraps them around himself as he turns to the side, his phone landing on the cushion of the couch next to him.

He feels like shit, way worse than he thought he would, and now that he’s all alone in his empty apartment, as tiny as it is, as spotless as it is, he feels lonely and gross.

His friends are right there, he knows they are literally one message away, but still Hoseok feels like he can’t reach out for them.

He wants advice. He wants someone to tell him he did the right thing, or that he was a dumbass and just let something amazing slip away because he didn’t have the balls to act differently— he doesn’t care at this point. He just wants to say the words out loud: that he and Seokjin, the only straight guys in their group of friends, fucked around for weeks on a regular basis, but that now, out of the fucking blue, they stopped whatever it was they had because real life came to bite them in the ass before Hoseok was ready to let go. If only to make sure that it happened for real; if only to see the look on his friends’ faces when they learn about it; if only to take the weight off his shoulders and his chest.

To stop feeling like he will suffocate from how much he still wants to kiss Seokjin, how much he wants to punch him on the nose for going on a stupid date and spoiling the mindless fun they were having; from how much he regrets telling him he doesn’t want him, when he clearly does, even if he can’t have him.

But he can’t do it, and he won’t do it.

Seokjin and he were a secret. Everything they did, every night they spent together, every kiss they shared (the ones from when they fucked around as well as the ones from non-sexual situations), every cuddle — everything is a secret. Talking about any of those things to anyone else would mean exposing Seokjin, and he can’t just go and do that.

Much less now that he’s seeing somebody else.


Fuck, he’s seeing somebody else, and he should do the same thing, but why is it that his biggest concern right now is how he will never get to kiss Seokjin again, to fuck Seokjin again, and to be fucked by Seokjin again?

Hoseok huffs, and his jaw clenches as he curls further onto his side. His phone vibrates with a new message, and he hates that he knows it isn’t from Seokjin. He hates himself for wanting it to be from Seokjin. He hates Seokjin for fucking him up like this, and he hates that he has no one to talk to about the shithole he’s in.

He hates everything.

He isn’t new to feeling lonely, but it’s been a while since he last felt as lost and confused, as regretful and hurt.

But it’ll all pass, he thinks. He hopes. Sooner or later, it’ll all be in the past. He’ll no longer remember the feeling of Seokjin’s skin on his, or the sight of his face when he’s on top of him or underneath him, inside of him or all around him.

As soon as he’s done feeling tired and lonely and nauseated by everything going on in his head and in his chest, he’s gonna go out there. He’s gonna go out there and forget about him in any way he can. If talking about it with someone else is out of the question, then that’s fine. Whatever. He’ll find a way around it.

He’ll find a way to drown the thought of Seokjin out, and he’ll be back to normal in no time.



By the time the weekend is over, Hoseok feels a little bit better. Not too much, if he’s honest, but at least he’s more determined to get himself out of this (totally self-induced) slump.

He ended up accepting Taehyung’s invitation to go to the cinema on Saturday night with him, Jungkook, and Jimin. He only did it because the younger man actually called him on the phone (when he was about a minute away from cracking under the weight of his self-pity) to whine at him about how they’d already gotten him a ticket, and about how they wanted to cheer him up after how gloomy he was the night before at the bar. It turned out to be a great decision. Hoseok didn’t talk to them about the month-old storm of emotions that was raging in his chest and hadn’t left him alone since this whole mess began at the gay club, but at least he got distracted from it, which was good enough.

The movie was fun, and spending time with the youngests of their group of friends is always nice. Save for the moment where they started talking about Seokjin and the girl he went out with the night before, taking wild guesses about what she was like and whether she had what it took to keep Seokjin interested for more than a couple of weeks, it was a good time.

Sunday wasn’t that bad either.

He still felt like a balloon about to explode, and Seokjin didn’t direct him a single word all day. He did send a few laughing emojis to the group chat in response to a meme Jimin sent, but that was it. So much for vital signs.

It’s on Monday, when he is sitting at his desk during his boring job at the call center, that he finally does something.

Something for the sake of self-preservation.

It is a slow morning and he still hasn’t heard a word from Seokjin since they cut things off and he stormed out of his apartment. Hoseok hasn’t tried to talk to him, either, so he supposes it is fair; the other man’s silence is more than understandable.

But that is a scary thought.

Things aren’t supposed to stay like this forever, either. The sole reason Hoseok told Seokjin that no, he doesn’t want him, was so they could go back to normal. Even Seokjin said so during their fight: if Hoseok told him to fuck off, then he’d fuck off and they’d go back to how things were between them before they started fooling around; easy, comfortable, uncomplicated, and fun.

But it has been two days since then and there is still not a single trace of ease, comfort, uncomplicatedness, or fun.

Hoseok doesn’t know if it is too soon yet, or if this is going to be their new normal, but he does know that it is driving him crazy to overthink so much. He doesn’t normally bite his nails, but at the moment he can’t stop doing that as he sits on his desk, just like he can’t stop bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers, and staring at the clock on the wall waiting for something to happen. Anything. Anything that helps him get his mind away from dangerous thoughts of his best friend. (Ex-best friend? Fuck, Hoseok’s stomach ties into a million knots at that possibility alone).

What he does is pretty simple. Simple and perhaps predictable, but, hopefully, effective.

He downloads Tinder.

Re-downloads, rather, cause another thing Hoseok isn’t new to is Tinder.

It was Seokjin who told him about the app in the first place, ages ago, while they were still in college and Hoseok still hadn’t met Minah. Looking back on it now, after everything that happened, it all seems so damn funny and weird— Seokjin and he used to sit together on the floor of the older man’s dorm room and destress by swiping left and right on Tinder profiles. If they were lucky enough (which was actually quite often during what Yoongi calls their “terrible fuckboy era”), they’d spend the night elsewhere, and then the next day, they’d brag to each other about their Tinder adventures with Tinder girls.

How stupid.

They were so stupid back then, and apparently, they’re just as stupid now – perhaps even more so than before.

(Definitely more so than before).

It’s ironic, Hoseok thinks. It’s terribly ironic how all the times he has downloaded a dating app in his phone have been because of Seokjin: first, because he showed it to him so they could fuckboy around together, and then, because he can’t stop thinking about fucking around with him and he really needs to stop. He sighs to himself at what his life has come to as he sets up his profile to make it look as simultaneously appealing, casual, and fun as he can, and then he waits.

He swipes and waits.

And it turns out he doesn’t have to wait too long, because by the time he’s dismissing his dance class that evening, he has matched with over fifteen different girls.

He has to go through all of their profiles and bios again before he talks to them to remind himself why he liked them in the first place. He’s forgotten pretty much all of them over the course of the day, because all the time he had to kill waiting for people to call at work (time that he would normally spend chatting with whichever of his friends was freer; sometimes even flirting with Seokjin a little bit over the past couple of weeks even if never straight up flirting), he spent in the dating app instead, seeing pretty girl after pretty girl and hoping to find someone to get him distracted from the hole in his chest.

By Wednesday night he has a date.

Though it’s not really a date date; just a sex date, which, who knows? Perhaps could lead to future sex dates or even date dates.

He feels strange getting ready for it, though.

He’s excited, on the one hand, but that excitement is almost completely eclipsed by other feelings. The same ones that haven’t stopped clinging to him since the fight with Seokjin. The same questions that haven’t left him alone since he learned that the older man had had a date.

It doesn’t help that they still haven’t uttered a single word to each other. It’s only been a few days, Hoseok is well aware, but the silence hasn’t become easier to tolerate. He should be thinking about the girl he’s going to meet up with in a while, about how flirty and funny she was when they texted these last two days, about what’s under her shirt, about what kind of panties she’ll be wearing, about how this is going to be his first time dealing with a pussy rather than a dick in months and how eager he should be about it, because Jung Hoseok the Heterosexual loves pussy according to everybody, that’s just the way things are.

However, as he styles his hair into curls that look effortless (even if they are anything but), he has to wrestle against unwelcome thoughts about Seokjin. What if he’s on a date, too? Hoseok would have no way of knowing if he is; no way of knowing if he goes home with the girl he’s seeing and fucks her on the same bed he fucked him a little over a week ago. Hoseok is going to go out and do exactly that, if only in a random bed at a random love motel somewhere close to a bus station for when he has to flee before the crack of dawn so he can make it to work in time, so he has no right to feel bad about what Seokjin chooses to do with his dick.

But he does, and not only that; he feels like what he himself is doing is also wrong. It’s messed up. All he hopes is by the time he wakes up tomorrow, he’s forgotten all about Seokjin and all about sex with Seokjin. That’s all he wants.

Hoseok nearly gets a heart attack when his phone vibrates loudly against the surface of the bathroom counter with a new notification, thinking for a split second that perhaps it’s Seokjin even if he has absolutely no reason to think that, but he gets over his shock when he sees it’s just Yoongi.


Yoongi: (sent at 7:49 PM)
seok-ah, I know it’s late and a week day, but do you wanna join joonie and I for dinner later? we were thinking of ordering pizza cause I’m too lazy to cook

Yoongi: (sent at 7:49 PM)
i can ask jin-hyung to come too so we can have a pizza party, like the ones we had in college. what do u say?


Hoseok stops for a moment, reading over Yoongi’s words again and again, thinking that perhaps this could be good. Perhaps meeting with Seokjin in a neutral place to do something neutral with their neutral friends could be good, and they could start warming up to each other again after their fight. The only problem is Hoseok really doesn’t feel like seeing Seokjin will do him any good at the moment. What if they fight? What if they don’t fight, but it’s awkward? What if it’s not awkward, but Hoseok can’t stop thinking about Seokjin, about Seokjin’s dick, and about Seokjin’s smile, and he only comes out of this friendly meeting way more hurt than before? Neither of those options sound good.

Which is why he types back, with a single hand while he brushes his teeth with the other one, his heart beating fast in his chest at the unshakeable feeling that he’s doing something wrong.


Hobi: (sent at 7:51 PM)
can’t. i have a date ;) but have fun with jin-hyung!


The reply he gets from Yoongi is a string of suggestive emojis at first, but then he sends a series of more serious question. ’what girl, though? What’s her name? Where’d you meet her? Is this the end of celibate Hoseok?’

Hoseok rolls his eyes when he reads Yoongi’s questions, mostly in amusement, but he goes back to getting ready and only replies minutes later, when he’s out of his apartment and heading to the bus stop, his breath minty fresh, his outfit and his hair on point, and two loose condoms in his bag. He doesn’t want to be late.


Hobi: (sent at 8:03 PM)
her name is jungha, met her on tinder, and yes ;)

Hobi: (sent at 8:03 PM)
anyway, if you hang out with hyung, tell him i said hi


Yoongi: (sent at 8:04 PM)
oh of course, he’s on his way.

Yoongi: (sent at 8:04 PM)
use protection and don’t be late for work tomorrow


Hoseok rolls his eyes at Yoongi’s message once again.



Sex with women turns out to be just as Hoseok remembered. No major changes in that realm.

Jungha was great, though. She was just as funny and flirty as she was on text, her confidence and straightforwardness were ridiculously attractive, and she was even prettier in real life than she was on her tinder profile pictures. Sex with her was fun, too. Hot. It was sharp nails digging onto his shoulders and running through his hair; sweet fruity perfume, and lacy panties. It was high pitched moans and screams of oppa that had a nice effect on his damaged ego. It was long hair, soft boobs, hairless skin, and a loud orgasm he has no way of knowing was real or fake.

It was good.

He almost didn’t think about Seokjin; almost didn’t miss him, his blunt nails, his firm body, and his broad shoulders. He almost couldn’t recall the way he felt around his cock, the way his body reacted to the slightest touches, and the way he went completely silent when he came. Almost. Almost.

Pretty much the only downside of the night was that Jungha left almost as soon as they were done so she could get to her college dorm before the curfew. It forced him to get up, get dressed, and ride a bus across the cold city before he had gotten the post-coital cuddles he needs to properly come down from the high of sex. It wasn’t her fault that she had to leave, though, and she told him she wouldn’t mind a second round soon, during the weekend, so she wouldn’t have to worry about making it to her dorm in time. She even kissed him goodbye, with her soft lips that tasted like sweet peach chapstick.

All in all, it was a perfect sex date, Hoseok supposes.

If he had met Jungha two months ago, he would’ve rated her with a twelve out of ten: she was hotter than he expected, funnier than he expected, and confident and casual enough to suggest sleeping together again without fearing it could be misunderstood as undesired clinginess. She was cool and interesting and independent (if the way she laughed when Hoseok asked her if she would like him to accompany her to her school, or pay for her cab or something, was anything to go by).

Now, he isn’t so sure.

The sex was great, yeah, but there was something missing. Something aside from the cuddles.

It is that almost, Hoseok knows that very well (because he might be a dumbass in many different ways, but he isn’t as unaware of what goes on inside his head (and his heart) as some people might think).

It is the fact that he couldn’t get Seokjin off his mind entirely; that he couldn’t stop comparing the girl to him, even if he did have a good time with her.

It is the fact that it doesn’t matter how much sex he has with any woman in the world— it will be good, sure, and he’ll have his fun, but it will never erase what happened between Seokjin and him from his memory, and it will never change the fact that what’s done is done, and Seokjin won’t talk to him anymore (rightfully so).

He goes out with Jungha again on Friday, because he might as well, but going out on Friday means skipping his friends’ weekly get-together in their usual bar in Hongdae. And that is good. It’s been a week since their argument, and Seokjin still hasn’t talked to him, so Hoseok isn’t exactly looking forward to seeing him (even if there is something in his chest that wants nothing else).

He doesn’t give them any excuse about why he won’t be able to make it, but Yoongi does it for him. There’s the usual whining from those who are going, specifically Taehyung and Jimin, but then Yoongi cuts in too, saying how ’he hopes that he won’t forget about them now that he found a girl willing to have sex with him’.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything at that.

Seokjin hasn’t said anything to him in a whole week, and it’s driving Hoseok insane. His fingers itch with the need to open up their own text conversation, to tell him he can’t stop missing him every hour of every single day, not only on his bed but also as his friend, and that it’s making him act stupid.

But he knows it wouldn’t make a difference if he did that, so he doesn’t. He just scrolls up and down their old texts, searching in vain for an excuse to talk to him but giving up every time.

Sleeping with Jungha again goes pretty much the same as the last time.

It’s fun, for the most part, and again, Hoseok almost manages to forget all about Seokjin and how Seokjin fucked him. Almost, almost. The problem this time around is also after the sex. Jungha doesn’t have to leave, but lying there with her on a random motel bed, hearing her talk about something that is undoubtedly fun and interesting about her degree in Korean literature, Hoseok wishes she would leave. Or that he could go.

He should be able to enjoy this. This whole thing is supposed to make everything easier to deal with, and while he manages to drown out his apprehensions for as long as he’s running high on lust, the crash down from that only makes it all worse.

He misses Seokjin.

He misses him more than anything, and it doesn’t seem to matter what he does; he only misses him more every day.

It’s hopeless.


Hoseok isn’t new to negotiation.

Negotiation, as in, sexual negotiation.

At this point, after everything that has happened over the past month, and even if everything seems to have gone to shit after all, he thinks he got a lot of experience when it comes to discussing boundaries (and also crossing them). But the truth is he’s been negotiating sexual do’s and don’ts since way before that.

His second girlfriend ever, a girl called Hayoon he dated during his last year of high school back in Gwangju, had a thing for sticking her tongue in his ears when they fooled around under the excuse that they were “cute like those heart-shaped sugar candies”. It took him unpleasantly by surprise every time and it even deactivated his brain for a few seconds, not in a good way. That thing Hayoon did, as well as the time he tried to slip his hand under her uniform skirt for the first time without asking while they were making out, were the first times he had to deal with talking about things like consent and sexual boundaries.

He’s come a long way since then, he supposes.

Nowhere near Seokjin — Hoseok still remembers how the older man implied he was stuck in a sexually mediocre relationship for years just a couple weeks ago, when they fucked around on his living room couch after playing Just Dance. It was just after Seokjin had pinned him against the counter and touched him kinda inappropriately while he talked on the phone with Yoongi. Just a few hours before Hoseok woke up to the feeling of Seokjin’s hard-on against his ass and his lips against his neck; just half a day before he fucked him. Properly fucked him. Reached places so deep inside of him that he hadn’t imagined existed in the practice, only in theory—

And see, this is the problem right here.

Hoseok can't stop thinking about this. All of this.

It’s been a week since his second sex date with Jungha, and the same amount of time since she ghosted him (not that he can blame her— he definitely wasn't the best or most communicative date she had had), but he’s not alone. He found another person like him, probably just as eager as him to scratch an itch to help him get distracted from the growing black hole in his chest. Deep down he knows that it’s useless; that no matter what he does, he’s doomed to walk through his life with a Kim-Seokjin-shaped hole in his memory. Though that doesn’t mean he won’t at least try to saturate his brain with anything that makes him forget that Seokjin still hasn’t talked to him and that he lost not only one of the most amazing (and unexpected) fuck buddies he’s ever had, but also one of his bestest, closest friends.

It’s the second time in a row that he misses the weekly get-together with his friends at the bar to hook up, so perhaps, perhaps, that’s why his thoughts about Seokjin, about the morning Seokjin fucked him, and about negotiation are being particularly pervasive today. He knows Seokjin is at the bar this time around because he was the first to confirm he would be able to make it (which, it hurts Hoseok to think, was the only thing he heard from the older man this entire past week). And he can’t stop thinking— Jimin referred to the girl Seokjin was seeing as his girlfriend in the group chat, but are they dating for real? Did Seokjin sleep with her already? It’s been two weeks, and the thoughts of Seokjin have only multiplied and intensified with every passing day, regardless of the hook-ups he’s had, but what if Seokjin is fine? Is he fine? Does he think of him? Does he think about fucking him, still, just like Hoseok thinks about it? Why does he miss the feeling of Seokjin inside of him so much? Why does it pain him so much to even consider the possibility of Seokjin being fine without him—?

“Oppa, I can hear you thinking,” the girl says suddenly, sounding partly concerned but mostly annoyed. She’s on Hoseok’s lap, shirtless, and she was pressing wet kisses all over his neck, which would definitely be pleasurable if Hoseok wasn’t up to the neck in emotional shit. It’s perhaps due to his unresponsiveness that she pulled away and is now looking at him with an unimpressed expression. Hoseok looks up at her, vaguely realizes that his hand is on her waist but other than that he’s doing nothing at all, and feels like a big fool when he sees how done she seems. “Is there something wrong?”

Hoseok hesitates for a moment.

Many things are wrong, far too many, but what kind of hook-up would he be if he brought them up?

“Not really… I’m just. Thinking, that’s all,” he answers, letting his fingers trace over the soft skin of the girl’s waist. What was her name, again? Something with an S. Soyoung? Soojung? Suhyeon? Shit, he’s so bad with names—

“What are you even thinking about?” She asks, running her hands down his chest. They’re small, and her nails are nicely done in shades of lilac that look the way her floral perfume smells. She’s cute, and Hoseok is not fair. His breath hitches when she rolls her hips against his impatiently. “You shouldn’t be thinking about anything at all.”

“Yeah, I know— I’m sorry,” he says, and for the time being she seems satisfied. She goes back to kissing his neck, her manicured hands traveling lower, and Hoseok lets it happen for a moment. She lets her cup his dick through his pants while she mouthes at his throat, but it does nothing to him. The feeling of her. The sweet smell of her. Her soft skin and the sight of her pink lacy bra; nothing. He keeps thinking, thinking, and wanting, and craving— Seokjin really ruined him when he fucked him, he realizes. He ruined him forever, because at the moment, and during his past sex dates with Jungha, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. About getting fucked by him.

“—hey, no. Hold up, wait a second,” Hoseok says suddenly, pushing the girl away from him so he can look at her. She looks impatient, and she sounds impatient, too, when she sighs.

“What is it?”

“I, uh. I have a question,” he starts, and she just hums, raising a bored (and perfectly outlined) eyebrow at him.


“About what?”

He takes a deep breath to try and gather his thoughts and clear up his head a little, but it doesn’t seem to help much, so he decides to just spit it out.

And this is where the knowledge and experience he has on sexual negotiation should come in handy.

“It’s, uh. Just. I was wondering,” he starts, feeling heat rising all the way up to his cheeks. “Hypothetically speaking, what would you say if I asked you to, uh. You know. To fuck me. Would you be, like. Opposed to that?”

The girl’s expression morphs quickly at that. Her eyes widen a little. “What do you mean?” She asks, curious but hesitant, pulling her hands back from where they were resting on his chest. “You want me to ride you, or something?”

Now it’s Hoseok who sighs, shaking his head.

“No, no. Just. You know. Rather than me fucking you, what would you say if I told you I would like you to fuck me? Or finger me, at least. I don’t know. That’s. Yeah.”

“Oh my god,” She asks, concerned and, apparently, disgusted, raising both of her eyebrows and grimacing. “What?”

Hoseok feels like his face is burning up, but he also feels impatient.

“Have you really never heard about pegging? It’s not that unusual.”

The girl’s jaw drops at that, but then she actually laughs. She laughs. And it isn’t a joyful laughter, no; it’s one that is full of disgust and mockery. It makes Hoseok frown and take his hand away from where it was resting on her thigh so he can put it on the motel bed instead.

“Pegging? Like, with a toy—? Oh my god. You want me to—?“ he nods at that, and she pauses, laughing once again. “Oh my god, are you for real? You want me to stick a dildo up your ass? Or fingers? Ew, that’s so gross! That’s— what are you, gay?”

She pretty much spits out the last word, and Hoseok tenses up completely at that. His jaw locks and his fingers curl into fists.

So much for negotiation.

He had reasoned that maybe things would get easier if he managed to get somebody else to make him feel something similar to what Seokjin made him feel before, but it seems that this girl wasn’t the person he should’ve gone to for this.

“I’m not. I just—“

“—I’m sorry, but you must be gay if you want me to do something as gross as that,” she says, laughing once again, mocking, but she doesn’t make a move to get off his lap. Hoseok feels one minute away from pushing her off him. “Oh god, that’s so disgusting—! It’s no wonder you were barely doing anything just now, just sitting there like you were dead!”

“You could just say that you’re not into that, you know. No need to berate me for it—“ he starts, but she interrupts him.

“—but how could I not? Oppa, no offense, but what the hell?” She says, laughing again. “Did you honestly think I would say I’m okay with that? You should’ve— I don’t know. Given me a fucking heads up beforehand, don’t you think? If you are gay, why did you even go through the bother of meeting up with me? You’re really just wasting my time.”

“Stop saying I’m gay, I am not—“

“—Oh, please,” she interrupts him, a derisive, patronizing smirk on her face. “You are a man, aren’t you?” She asks as she brings her hand to Hoseok’s cheek so she can squeeze it. “You shouldn’t want that kind of thing if you’re a real man.”

Hoseok’s blood is boiling— he recoils away from her hand. He would really love to push her away from him as far as he can, but he just makes it to stand up, forcing her to get off his lap. She has no idea what she’s talking about, he knows that, but it still makes him furious.

“You’re— are you serious? So a man being gay means they’re not a real man? Is that what you’re saying?” He says, trying hard to keep himself from shouting even if it’s difficult— he’s never had to deal with a person like this before. In theory, he has always known there are plenty of people who think like her. He has heard it from Yoongi, from Namjoon, from Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook; he has heard it from his sister, too, when she and a girl friend of hers were denied entry to a café during a short trip to Busan last year because they were holding hands even if they weren’t even girlfriends. He has heard it on the news, hate crimes every other day, people getting bullied and even fired from their jobs for being gay. In theory, he’s always known these people exist, but he had never experienced it firsthand.

Whether he’s gay or not— does that even matter?

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying, and don’t try to lecture me on it, alright? I signed up for a fuck, not a morality class, and you clearly aren’t enough of a man to give me that,” she says scathingly as she picks up her shirt from wherever it was and puts it on.

Hoseok huffs and clenches his fists, fuming.

“You know what? I’m out of here,” he says, getting his bag from where he left it on top of a chair and puts it on his shoulder.

You’re out of here? Oh, no, I’m out of here first. I can’t believe I almost let you put your hands on me—!“

“—and neither can I!” Hoseok snaps, finally, turning around before he reaches the door of the room. He’s pretty sure the only woman he has yelled at is his sister, and it’s generally difficult to make him angry for real, but he has never felt as offended before. He doesn’t even think it’s worth it to fight or try to change her mind, but he can’t leave just like that after everything she said to him and how badly she insulted him and his friends. “You know what? I’m so glad I asked you that question. You’re the last kind of person I’d want to have anything to do with. I’m not gonna lecture you, but fuck you for thinking there’s anything wrong with being gay.”

“Oh, please—”

“No. Fuck you, for real. The best people I’ve ever met in my life are gay. My best friends are gay. And I’m not— I’m not even gay gay myself, but I’m not going to waste my time with someone who is so full of hate and ignorance, and thinks so lowly of the people I care about the most.”

Leaving after that with a door slam feels good, but realizing that it’s her who will have to pay for the room feels even better.



When Hoseok gets to the bar in Hongdae, he has mixed feelings turning inside of him.

On the one hand he feels proud of himself for getting over his heteronormative insecurities and daring to ask a girl about pegging, he feels like an idiot for thinking that casual sex with a girl and a strap-on would make him forget Seokjin when he knows that it’s not that he wants a dick in concept, but rather that he wants Seokjin who just happens to have a dick, but he also feels good about being able to stand up against a cruel, ignorant, homophobic person.

Once he’s in the bar the first thing he does is smile, because Jungkook’s strident, high-pitched laughter is the first thing he hears, and it never fails to make him feel better. However, almost simultaneously, his stomach plummets. Seokjin is sitting across from Jungkook on the table, and he is laughing just as stridently as the younger, and he missed him so fucking much. He hadn’t forgotten that Seokjin was going to be there, but he didn’t think he would feel breathless and like falling to his knees at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, Hobi-hyung?” Jimin asks as soon as Hoseok has reached the table, obviously pleasantly surprised as he beams up to him. “You made it after all!”

“Oh, hey! Yeah, it’s good to see you,” Yoongi says, nodding his head at him but then smirking, one of his eyebrows raised in a weird expression. “Weren’t you at a date, though? Or. Well. Hooking up. What happened?”

Jungkook chuckles a little at that as he scoots over, making room for Hoseok to sit next to him on the edge of the seat.

On the edge of the seat, right across from Seokjin.

“Yeah, Hoseok,” the older man says once Hoseok is sitting down in front of him, and, shit— Hoseok didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to see his face. He didn’t want to hear his voice. He didn’t want to have anything to do with him if it meant acting like nothing happened— like he hasn’t stopped thinking about him since this disaster started. At least not until he had managed to wash him away from his brain. He missed him terribly, but he was right: he wasn’t ready.

Because there he is, sitting right in front of him in his flawless office clothes and his flawless hair, looking exactly the same way he has always looked, if only more tired than usual, and Hoseok is having trouble breathing, every good and bad emotion inside of him intensifying at the same time. There are dark circles around Seokjin’s eyes, a tell-tale sign that he’s been working himself too hard, but other than that he looks just as magazine-ready as always. Hoseok’s eyes find Seokjin’s over the table, and it cracks his heart open to do so. He wishes he hadn’t, because there is not a hint of warmth in them.

“Weren’t you hooking up with someone?” Seokjin continues, and his voice is just as sharp and cold as his eyes.

Hoseok takes a deep breath at that, knowing he deserves this. That he deserves Seokjin treating him like shit. Perhaps he even enjoys this in a dark and twisted way, because having Seokjin treat him like dirt is somehow better and easier to deal with than silence.

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok replies, holding Seokjin’s gaze for only a moment before he looks away. “She wasn’t my type, I guess.”

“Woah, so you just ditched her?” Taehyung asks. He’s sitting next to Yoongi, where Namjoon would normally be, but he had said beforehand that he was tied up with work and wouldn’t be able to make it. Hoseok nods at Taehyung’s question, which causes the younger to let out a whistle. “That’s harsh!”

Hoseok lets out an unamused chuckle.

“She deserved it, trust me,” he replies as he steals a cold fry from a plate at the center of the table, but when he does that, he catches sight of Seokjin rolling his eyes. He stops chewing, looks up, and narrows his eyes at the older man even if his stomach flips at the sight of him. If Seokjin is going to be a bitch, then he, too, can be one. He doesn’t want to, but what other choice does he have? Acting as miserable as he feels doesn’t seem right, and anyway, Seokjin is pushing his buttons just right with the way he’s treating him, and he was already riled up from before. “But anyway, hyung. Where’s your girlfriend? The pretty girl— what was her name, again?”

Seokjin raises his eyebrows at the question and crosses his arms, leaning backwards on the seat. Hoseok is sure he sees his lip twitch.

“What do you care?” He replies curtly, perhaps a little too brusquely. Jimin actually gasps in surprise at his response, and then Taehyung’s jaw drops when the older man adds, “I thought you didn’t give a shit about what I did. Wasn’t that what you told me?”

Silence reigns on the table after that, and it’s a heavy kind. A terribly awkward kind. It’s louder than the music playing from the speakers of the bar, louder than the sound of people talking and laughing all around them, and louder even than the sound of Hoseok’s heart pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, but he can’t seem to find the words, and the tension is blatant. He doesn’t think anyone even knew they hadn’t talked once in two weeks, but he thinks it became pretty obvious to everyone that they aren’t on best terms.

Yoongi looks between the two of them, estranged, his brow furrowed, but then he settles on Hoseok.

“Seok-ah, are you, like, jealous of Jin-hyung’s girlfriend, or something?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. He uses that voice he uses when he’s trying to be funny or sarcastic, which usually works well to break the tension during awkward moments, but this time it only feels like he dunked a thousand rocks inside his ribcage.

“What?” Hoseok asks, his eyes, which were still looking at Seokjin’s cold ones, widening at his words before he even turns to look at him. “Jealous? What the—? Why would I even be jealous—?”

“Aw, but you don’t need to be jealous, hyung,” Jungkook suddenly says, clearly joining in on Yoongi’s attempt to lighten up the mood. He puts an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders and rubs his arm gently. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a girlfriend soon enough.”

“I—” Hoseok starts, the words ’I don’t want a girlfriend, stop thinking I want a girlfriend’ nearly slipping from his lips before he can stop to think about them. He can’t help but look in front of him again, at Seokjin, and the odd expression on his face. He’s frowning, but he’s pouting too, and Hoseok knows he’s holding onto his bottle of beer really tightly by how white his knuckles look.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” the older man says before Hoseok can even come up with a proper response. “Just make sure you don’t catch anything sleeping around in the meantime. No one will wanna marry you and have a family with you if you give them gonorrhea, you know?”

Jimin nearly chokes at that, Jungkook gasps loudly, and Hoseok’s jaw drops. His heart drops, too.

“Hyung,” he says. Breathes, more like, and Seokjin holds his stare for a moment, but before too long he looks down and away. Hoseok sees him swallowing roughly, and he sees him taking a deep, shaky breath that makes his lower lip quiver. The hard look on his face seems to break at last, right in front of Hoseok’s eyes, but it’s only for a brief moment. It’s soon back on, when he pushes his beer further from him on the table and flings his bag on his shoulder.

“Anyway, I think I’m going to go home now, guys,” Seokjin says, standing up from the seat and completely avoiding looking in Hoseok’s direction. “I’m not feeling so well…”

Nobody tries to stop him from leaving. Everyone seems stunned— Jungkook watches after Seokjin as he leaves with wide eyes, Jimin and Taehyung look at each other like they’re having a telepathic discussion about what just happened, and even Yoongi is grimacing, looking after Seokjin with a regretful look on his face.

As for Hoseok, he feels exhausted. He feels like whatever heart he had left doesn’t exist anymore, because there’s simply no room left inside of him for anything that isn’t the gigantic fucking black hole that he himself created.

“What the fuck was all that?” Jimin asks, breaking the silence and sounding genuinely concerned. “Hobi-hyung, what’s going on with Jin-hyung?”

“You guys kept on fighting, what happened?” Yoongi asks then, and for a split second, Hoseok’s frustration and heartbreak turns into anger against him. If he had kept his joke to himself, then Seokjin wouldn’t have been a hurtful son of a bitch. Perhaps Hoseok deserves to be treated like shit by him for the rest of eternity, but that doesn’t mean he loves that.

“It’s—“ Hoseok starts, but then he huffs. He props his elbows on the table and buries his face on the palms of his hands. “Hyung, what the fuck! I’m not fucking jealous! I’m not— Why the fuck would you even say something stupid like that?!”

Yoongi frowns at that.

“What? It’s my fault now? I was just trying to be funny. You guys were being too intense and rude for no fucking reason and it was annoying. It’s not my fault you got unresolved shit. I mean— I didn’t even know you two weren’t on good terms! I don’t think any of us knew,” he says, and the others seem to agree. “I don’t even think I said something terrible.”

“Or wrong,” Jimin adds. “I mean. I understand how bad it feels to be the only single person in the group because it was almost always me,” he says, and Hoseok isn’t looking at him, but he can almost see his sympathetic smile. “So don’t feel bad about that. Someone will come along! Or someones. You never know.”

Hoseok lets out a heavy sigh that doesn’t make him feel better at all.

Someone already came along, that’s not the problem, but he can’t tell Jimin that.



Hoseok isn’t new to fighting with his friends, but he’s pretty sure that nobody is new to that.

Friends fight and make up all the time. Sometimes they don’t make up in years. Sometimes they don’t make up at all.

Something he has always found interesting is how there seem to be about a billion songs written about heartbreak – romantic heartbreak. How romantic breakups are among the most talked about things concerning a person’s life and development as a social being, all the while friendship breakups are left forgotten in a dusty corner, certainly deemed not as important.

Namjoon agrees with him— they’ve talked about this before. Namjoon studied anthropology, has a minor in psychology, and a master’s in ethnography, so he has many knowledgeable opinions on pretty much every topic in the family of humanities and social studies. He has a big head and an even bigger heart, so if he says that friendship breakups can be even more painful and catastrophic emotionally than some romantic breakups, then Hoseok believes him.

But what happens when the romantic breakup and the friendship breakup are the same event, and there wasn’t even an actual breakup to begin with?

Namjoon isn’t there to talk to him, sadly, and even if he was, Hoseok doesn’t think he’d be able to talk to him about it all.

“Hey, Seok-ah…” Yoongi says all of a sudden, his deep voice bringing Hoseok out of his thoughts. He was looking out the window of Yoongi’s car, watching as the colorful lights of shops, restaurants, streetlights and other cars passed them by. Thinking. Thinking.

“What is it?” He asks, turning his head so he can look at Yoongi even if Yoongi’s eyes are focused on the road ahead.

“It’s, uh. I just wanted to tell you sorry if I made you feel bad before. It was really just supposed to be a joke— I didn’t know you wouldn’t appreciate it, or that Jin-hyung would go all brutal like that.”

Hoseok chuckles humorlessly. He feels tired, so tired— he feels like he’s been riding the longest rollercoaster in the world, and that only tonight it reached the point where everything starts freefalling and spiraling out of control.

“It’s whatever, hyung.”

“Is it?” Yoongi insists, and Hoseok sees him frowning, gripping tighter onto the steering wheel. “You two… You’ve been weird as hell lately. Hyung, especially.”

“He’s been weird?” Hoseok asks, raising an eyebrow.

Yoongi nods.

“Yeah. He says it’s because this girl, Joohyun, cut things off before he could do it and he’s feeling shitty about that, but I don’t know…” the older man explains, and Hoseok feels himself frowning a little at his words; something stinging in his chest, but his jaw dropping at the knowledge that Seokjin isn’t with the girl after all. “He’s been going like a pendulum, you know? From overworking himself to looking for every possible excuse to hang out with Namjoon and I, or with the kids… It’s normal post-breakup behavior, I guess, but you and I both know that hyung has never suffered from post-breakup blues, especially considering he’s only known this girl for, what, two weeks? Ten days? Something like that. So. Yeah.”

Something squeezes hard around Hoseok’s heart, and he starts fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater to deal with the ball of nerves in his system.

“Maybe he really liked her?”

“Could be…” Yoongi says, shrugging. They stay silent for a moment, waiting at a stoplight. The car radio is on, playing music from some late-night show because things were a little tense between them when they first got in the car to start fumbling with the aux chord. Hoseok looks out the window again, thinking about how privately Seokjin is dealing with everything that is going on. It seems he hasn’t even told Jimin, or anyone aside from Yoongi and maybe Namjoon that he isn’t seeing the girl anymore. “But, really, Seok-ah. Don’t feel bad. I’m sure you’ll find a girlfriend soon enough. And remember what I said about Gayeon, the new girl at the studio? I really wouldn’t mind arranging a date between you. I’m one hundred percent sure you’d like her.”

Hoseok closes his eyes at that, laughing softly to himself.

“Hyung…” he starts, smiling even if not happily. “Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment. But, uh. I think… I think I don’t want a girlfriend.”

“Oh?” Yoongi says, estranged. “Really? I mean. Living life as an eternal bachelor can’t be that bad, but I never knew that was what you wanted. To be honest, I always thought you were going to marry Minah.”

“Yeah, well. That ship sailed a long time ago, so…” Hoseok comments. “But I don’t wanna be an eternal bachelor either. I don’t know what I want.”

“You got a lifetime to figure it out, Seok-ah. Stop beating yourself up over it. See, this is all because of this fucking system— it has brainwashed all of us into thinking that we have to have accomplished certain things by a certain age, and when we haven’t, then we feel useless, but Seok-ah, you’re not—”

Hoseok cuts him off before he can continue.

“—hyung,” he interrupts, raising his voice a little and looking at him again. Yoongi looks a little offended at first, but his whole semblance changes when Hoseok adds, empowered by a weird kind of adrenaline. “How did you realize you were into men?” he asks, and Yoongi’s jaw drops as he looks between Hoseok and the road a few times.

“How I realized I was into men…?” He repeats, finally settling his eyes on the street. Hoseok nods, which is useless because Yoongi isn’t looking his way. “I, uh. Well, it’s a cliché answer, but I guess I always knew. Haven’t we talked about this before?”

“Not that I remember? I guess to me you were always just. You know. Gay. I don’t think I ever asked you how you realized.”

Yoongi lets out a little laugh.

“Yeah. Well. I guess people don’t normally talk about this kind of thing. Especially straight people,” he says lowly. “But, yeah. It’s a disappointing answer. I always knew. My first real crush was when I was in the fifth grade. There was a sixth grader in my basketball team who had gotten his growth spurt a little earlier than the other kids and I was completely enamored with him and everything he did. He was so tall and lanky and awkward— does it sound familiar?”


Hoseok laughs and Yoongi smiles.

“It does,” he says with a smile. An actual, genuine smile, at last, after how hellish and long this day has been. “And, uh… How did you know you were into Namjoon?”

Yoongi’s smile doesn’t go away at his question, but he raises an eyebrow at it.

“What do you mean, how I knew? I just knew,” he answers. “He was… I don’t know. Perfect for me. He still is. He’s patient and cool-headed where I’m rough and loud, but we’re both passionate about the same things, so we never get bored, even after all these years,” he stops, laughing to himself and shaking his head. “I really don’t know what else you want me to tell you. He makes me happy. Of course not everything is perfect, you know all the shit we’ve been through in our lives, but I think what makes a difference is that I’m more than willing to walk through hell and back if it’s with him. That’s. Yeah. I think that sums it up.”

“That’s… That’s really cheesy, hyung…” Hoseok says, and Yoongi laughs again, clearly embarrassed, but in a happy way.

“Fuck you.”

Hoseok laughs too, but he can’t help but think. Think.

He loved Minah, but he wouldn’t have walked through hell and back with her. As for Seokjin… He thinks he has already walked through hell and back with him a few times. Those times in college when they felt like they were going to die from the pressure. Those times later on, when Seokjin crashed for a few days after his breakups, or when Hoseok went into a major slump after his breakup with Minah. Those times where they had no one but each other to lean on when they received bad news from the family, or when things just weren’t going well for them— Hoseok doesn’t know if those occasions classify as hell, but they’ve certainly been through them. They’ve been through them, and now, they’ve explored other bits of their relationship, and as weird as it is to think that he’s slept with one of his best friends, what’s weirder to him now is to think that perhaps they’ll never get to talk as friends again.

“But, hyung… Doesn’t it make you sad that you won’t be able to, you know. Have kids with him. Get married to him. Just. You know. Have a family… Doesn’t it make you sad?” Hoseok asks, and Yoongi looks at him weird.

“What do you mean? You don’t think Joonie and I are pretty much married already? We’ve been living together and paying taxes for years!” He nearly exclaims. “And we do have a family. We have everything we need. First and foremost, we have each other. We have friends, our home, and we have Monnie and Holly. Of course it’d be better if the law didn’t hate us and we could get legally married, but… Shit. As long as he knows that I love him, and I know that he loves me, then who cares about the rest?”

“Who cares about the rest…” Hoseok repeats, nodding to himself.

Who cares about the rest.

Hoseok smiles up at Yoongi, and when he does he’s surprised to find they’ve arrived to his apartment building and are parked right outside.

Yoongi smiles back at him, and Hoseok feels a strange surge of confidence taking over him; the words that he’s been dying to say for ages rising up his throat inevitably like bubbles in a glass of champagne, along with the realization that yes, he likes Seokjin. He wants to be with Seokjin, because being with Seokjin is one of the things that has always come naturally to him, even if nothing about this was even supposed to happen in the first place. Even if it was all because of a mistake they made while drunk— what came after that, the experimenting part, and the liking it part weren’t mistakes.

“Hyung, I…” he starts, gnawing on his lower lip as he gathers the last bits of courage he needs, but then looking right into Yoongi’s eyes when he deems himself more or less ready. Fuck it, it’s now or never.

“I slept with Jin-hyung.”

Yoongi just looks at him at that. Blinks once, blinks twice, like he doesn’t understand, and when he speaks it’s just a soft, “you did what now?”

“I slept with Jin-hyung,” Hoseok repeats, a little louder this time. Louder and more confident, even if he’s still terrified of verbalizing the words. Yoongi’s brow furrows as he looks at him, an expression of endless disbelief and confusion taking over his face.

“You slept with Jin-hyung,” he states, and, wow, it feels even weirder to have someone else say it back to him than to say it himself. It makes it feel realer. He nods solemnly, studying Yoongi’s reactions but not knowing what to make of the way he keeps looking at him. “You— you mean sexually? Like, you had sex with Jin-hyung? You, and Jin-hyung, token straight friends of our very gay group of friends?”

Hoseok sighs at that, exasperated.

“Yes, hyung. Yes. I had sex with Jin-hyung!” He exclaims, feeling a weight disappearing from his shoulders. “That’s what sleeping together means, isn’t it? Both in straight world and gay land, and everywhere in between! We had sex!”

“I got that!” Yoongi raises his voice as well, his disbelief still blatant in his face. He can’t seem to be able to shut his mouth. “You— You and he—? When did you even…?”

“Honestly? It’s probably been about six times already, all this past month. To be honest, I thought you suspected something.”

“I fucking didn’t! I still can’t believe it!” Yoongi nearly shouts, slumping against the driver’s seat. “A whole month…? Oh my fucking god.”

Hoseok chuckles sadly, nodding his head.

“Yeah. That sums it up.”

“So you were jealous after all?” Yoongi asks suddenly, looking at Hoseok with wide eyes. “Just not because you want a girlfriend. Is that it?”


“Is that it, Hoseok-ah?” Yoongi insists. “Is that what all your weird, out-of-the-blue questions about sexuality and being gay were about? Did you…” The older man starts, and Hoseok braces himself. When he speaks again, his voice a little bit quieter, his face a little bit more compassionate. “Did you fall in love with him?”

Hoseok holds Yoongi’s stare for a while. A long while. He probably breathes in and out about ten times and thinks about a million different things and possibilities before he comes up with an answer. He thinks back to their last morning together, when they jerked each other off in Seokjin’s shower and kept on kissing and kissing and kissing at every chance they had, laughing into each other’s mouths, and playing with the fruity shampoo foam. Back to the morning when he found himself beneath Seokjin for the first –and last— time, when he stopped everything because Hoseok nearly had a nervous breakdown before he entered him, and he did everything in his power to make him feel comfortable and really take care of him. Back to a few weeks ago, after he sucked Seokjin off for the first time, and they spent who knows how many minutes kissing for no reason at all, even when his mouth tasted like Seokjin’s cum.

Back to years ago, even— to the countless nights they spent talking and talking about the most diverse things while lying around Seokjin’s and Yoongi’s dorm. To the days they spent fuckboying around, or having lunch under the shades of the big trees of their university campus, and to the days they spent carrying each other’s drunk asses around and even tucking each other in more than once after a night out.

Hoseok nods, finally, the warmth of his feelings for Seokjin clashing violently with the coldness of the realization that they’re worth nothing now.

“I did.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

Hoseok smiles a little grimly at that. Oh, fuck, indeed.

Chapter Text

Hoseok isn’t new to love.


The truth is that if he was asked what he thinks love is, or what it feels like, he wouldn’t know what to say, exactly.

It’s like he has an idea of what it is, but he can’t seem to put it into words.

Actions seem to do the trick, though.

Love, he thinks, is his mother driving him to dance lessons and waiting for him in the car outside for ninety minutes when he was barely a teenager. Love is his father sending him books every once in a while because he thinks he might enjoy them (and nailing it every single time). Love is Yoongi often staying overtime at the studio just so he can pick Namjoon up at work. Love is Jimin planning surprise birthday parties for all his friends with at least a month of anticipation and investing time and money in every birthday present to make it special and unique. Love is Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin going on dates to arcades and amusement parks every other week like they haven’t been around each other for more than half a decade.

Love is Seokjin stopping everything when he noticed Hoseok was uncomfortable when he bottomed for the first time. Love is Hoseok trusting Seokjin and Seokjin trusting Hoseok even though neither of them knows exactly what they’re doing.

Love is Hoseok feeling like he can’t breathe from how much he misses Seokjin.

There is plenty of love in Hoseok’s life, and it’s a pretty thing, generally. It’s the kind of thing that makes life worth living.

He knows that loving someone is different to being in love with someone, though. He knows that he’s loved Seokjin for years, but the idea of him as anything more than his best friend and his partner in crime was always unfathomable. It just never crossed his mind to begin with, and it was something that was never within the realm of possibilities. Sure, Hoseok has always thought of Seokjin as handsome, and he used to joke about how beautiful he was and how that was the reason more than half of their campus wanted to date him when they were in college, but he never got any ideas about him. They were the straight guys of the group and that was that. Period.

What he feels now, though— it’s weirder and hotter than friendship, or even bromance. It runs deeper than mere attraction and it feels heavier than platonic friendliness. It chokes him up and it won’t go away. It’s not pretty and it’s not easy. Loving Minah was easy because she was everything that he expected to find in a partner, but Seokjin came in like a fucking earthquake: unexpected and devastating.

And now, apparently, he’s in love with his best friend.

He never saw it coming, and yet, here he is.

“It’s pathetic,” he says out loud. He’s lying across his living room couch and resting his head on Yoongi’s lap. He has no idea what time it might be, but it is dark outside and they didn’t bother turning the lights on, so it’s dark in Hoseok’s living room as well. There’s the strong smell of instant coffee coming from the lukewarm and half-empty cups on the table, but they’ve abandoned them by now, the two of them too engrossed in their conversation to care about coffee.

It’s been a long night.

“It’s not pathetic, Seok-ah,” Yoongi tells him, but Hoseok shakes his head.

“Yes it is,” he insists. “I fell in love with him, and it’s all because we played some dumb games at a gay club. Perhaps we should’ve just sucked it up and let those strangers hit on us for a few hours at the gay club. None of this would be happening if we had done that.”

“Maybe, but it happened, and it’s not pathetic that it did. Also, it’s no use crying over it now. What’s done is done”

Hoseok huffs at that, irritated even if he knows Yoongi means well. He’s running his fingers through his hair soothingly, actually, which counterweighs his blunt words. He's a cruel angel, but an angel nevertheless.

“Wow, that’s really comforting, hyung. Whatever would I do without you.”

Yoongi click his tongue.

“What I’m trying to say, Seok, is that there’s nothing wrong with being in love— I don’t know why you’re being so tragic about this whole thing. You know? Perhaps it was all for the best.”

“For the best? Are you serious? How is any of this ‘for the best’?” Hoseok cracks an eye open to look up at Yoongi, hoping it looks at least somewhat threatening.

“Well, you realized your feelings, for one.”

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t realize anything. There were no feelings waiting there to be realized at all when this began! None. I swear to you. I never ever felt anything for hyung other than friendship and other platonic shit!”

“Well, then, you created those feelings, then! Does it really make a difference? The point is there are feelings now, and that’s not a bad thing,” Yoongi says, sounding like he’s rolling his eyes. “You know, judging by what you’ve told me, it really seems like hyung likes you back. He already loved you as a friend beforehand, and, guess what? Romantic love is a cocktail made up of friendship, trust, and intimacy. You already had the first two ingredients down, and like it or not, sex changes things. For all you know he’s in love with you too. In fact, I think he is.”

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. He brings a hand up to rub his temple.

As ideal as that would be, it is all too confusing as well. Yoongi is talking too much. Hoseok loves him, he really does, but he’s making it all seem so easy, when it isn’t.

(It isn’t, right?)

“Hyung, no offense, but this isn’t as simple for me as it could be for you. This might sound wrong, and I’m sorry if it does, but I wouldn’t have imagined in a million years that I’d end up feeling this way about another man— about Seokjin-hyung, at that, like it wasn’t bad enough. This threw me off completely. I’m completely lost. I’m confused. I don’t know what my parents will think. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here.”

At that, Yoongi sighs.

It’s a sigh of impatience, but it’s accompanied by a gentle rub to Hoseok’s scalp that softens it.

“Look,” he starts. It’s his no-bullshit voice; Hoseok knows it very well. “I know this is a cliché thing to say, but I don’t care. You need to remember that whatever your sexuality is, it doesn’t define you as a person. Alright?” Hoseok feels the urge to say something in response to that, something like ‘I know it doesn’t!’ but Yoongi shushes him before he can say anything. “No, Hoseok, shut up and listen to me. Your sexuality doesn’t define you. You’re still the same dance-obsessed man with a lame day job that you’ve always been. Just because you had a sudden gay epiphany and realized you like dick too doesn’t mean—“

“—Seokjin’s dick. Not all dicks, just Seokjin’s,” Hoseok grits between teeth, unable to help himself.

“Oh, man, whatever— Just because you like one person specifically, and that person happens to have a dick like you, it doesn’t mean your responsibilities have changed now, or that you and your whole identity has changed, just like you don’t change as a person when you suddenly discover you like a certain color, or dressing a certain way, or whatever. If it does change someone’s opinion of you, then that’s their problem. Not yours. If someone stops loving you because you like Seokjin, then it’s not because you’re doing something wrong.”

“Hyung, I know all of this. I know, I really do.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“No, Seok-ah. You think you do, but you don’t. You’re worrying over what your family might think, but they love you. It might take them some time, but if they really love you, they love you for you and not for what they expect from you. A daughter in-law, grandkids— that was all my parents could talk about when I came out to them, and you know full well how I disappeared from their lives until they were ready to accept that they weren’t gonna get those things from me. And they did, in the end! Now my mom and my dad both love Namjoon. My dad— the same man who insisted I stopped reading so many books as a kid and focused on sports in order to, in his words, ‘man up’, now asks me about how my partner is doing in a daily basis and he even buys him presents every Christmas. It wasn’t a fairy tale of a process, obviously, and it took years of not talking to each other, but in the end they came through. And you know, to be honest, even if they hadn’t, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference to me. Like I told you before, Joon and I are a family now, and I got all of you, a great job, my dogs— I got my own life aside from them, so I would’ve been happy regardless, with or without them in the picture. I don’t know if thinking that way makes me selfish, but I wasn’t going to live a lie just to make them happy, you know? If someone loves you, but only as long as you meet a list of requirements, and they force you to change not your behavior, but who you are in order to feel like you’re worthy of love— that shit’s fake love. It’s duty— not love.”

Hoseok sighs, long and heavy.

Yoongi’s words do make him feel better, if only a little. It’s been a long time since they last talked about deep and important things, but whenever they do, Hoseok always gets the feeling that Yoongi isn’t one year older than him, but a couple hundred. He knows a lot of things, but what’s more important is that he knows how to say the things he wants to say. He might seem cold to some, but Hoseok doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone who is as in tune with his own feelings and the world outside at the same time as him. Both, him and Namjoon, actually — they’re a couple of wise motherfuckers, those two.

However, as comforting as Yoongi’s words are, he can’t help but be scared regardless.

The truth is it isn’t his family’s reaction or opinion what worries him the most.

They’re a hundred kilometers away, living their lives in Gwangju, while Hoseok is here, living his life in Seoul. They have no power over him, what he does, or who he sleeps with. They have expectations, naturally, but Hoseok doesn’t think they’d go as far as to ostracize him forever for bringing a man home. They’d be shocked, as shocked as he himself is, but Hoseok doubts they’d stop loving him or kick him out of the family tree, and if they did, the blow would hurt Hoseok, but it wouldn’t kill him.

No. It’s clear even to him, now and weeks ago, that it’s his own internal demons that won’t leave him alone, and he hates that.

He wants to just grab those little things by the horns and throw them away. He wants to get rid of the expectations he has for himself, because it’s those damn things he created what hurt him the most.

All these plans and ideas he had about the future simply stopped making sense when the person he pictured next to him ten years from now, cuddled up with him on a couch large enough for two, with one hand shoved down his pants and wrapped around his cock while they watched the news, was a man.

When that person was Seokjin.

“I see all that, hyung. Honestly, I do,” Hoseok goes on, frowning and inwardly cursing at himself for being the dumbest jerk on the planet. Yoongi stops stroking his hair momentarily. “But, you know what? It’s not like it all even matters anymore. I fucked things up— hyung went out with this girl, and I got jealous, so I acted like a baby. Now he won’t talk to me. The first thing he said to me in two weeks was that thing about gonorrhea.”

“Ouch— shit, I’d forgotten about that.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t think I ever will,” Hoseok pouts. He just wants to rip his heart out. Perhaps doing that would be easier than hunting down his insecurities one by one. “I fucked up. I was scared, and lonely, and spiteful because I thought he was fucking her, too, so I fucked up.”

“Seok…” Yoongi says, his voice quiet and almost soothing. “You won’t like this, but I think you need to talk to him about this.”

Hoseok snorts.

“As if. He’ll treat me like shit, which I know I deserve, but it’ll make me mad, and it’ll be worse—“

“—so fucking what? Would you rather he doesn’t talk to you again? Would you rather not seeing him again? He’s been one of your best friends for ten years; do you really prefer not talking to him again just because you’re afraid you might fight? Please—“ Yoongi stops, laughing to himself, shaking his head. “He loves you. I don’t know if he loves loves you, but he’s been around you for, like, a decade. He knows you can get a little stupid from time to time, just like we know how stupid he can get from time to time as well. We don’t love him any less for that.”

“No, we don’t, but… It’s still scary. Whatever happens, it’s scary.”

Yoongi hums thoughtfully for a moment. Hoseok’s eyes are closed, his brow furrowed deeply, but he feels Yoongi’s fingers rubbing circles over his skin, trying to massage away that tension. It doesn’t help much, but it feels good.

“You really think he won’t give you a chance to at least try to talk things out?”

“I don’t know if I want to talk things out to begin with.”

“Even if he might feel the same way about you?” Yoongi adds. “He’s devastated, too, you know. He might act all high and mighty around you, but he’s sad. He’s been sad for a couple of weeks— since he first went out with that girl, actually. Not since he allegedly ‘broke up’ with her. Knowing all of this now, Seok-ah, I’d bet my left testicle that he misses you like crazy.”

Hoseok frowns at that and he shoves Yoongi’s hand away from him.

“Ew, shut up. You’re terrible at trying to comfort people, don’t bring your balls up.”

“I’m serious, though!” Yoongi says, and this time he’s laughing a little bit, the mood finally lighting up even if slightly. “Give it a shot, Seok-ah. You two would be the most unexpected couple in the world, but if it’s right, it’s right.”

Suddenly, the sound of Yoongi’s phone ringing interrupts him, and the vibration of it against Hoseok’s head startles him. He sits up quickly, bringing a head to the back of his neck where a tingly feeling remains, and as he does so, he hears Yoongi grumbling under his breath, apologizing, saying how it’s probably Namjoon wondering where he is and why he hasn’t come back home yet.

However, he stops mumbling when he sees the screen.

“Oh, shit,” he curses, and Hoseok gets a dark, premonitory feeling in his stomach.

“What is it? Who is it?” He asks, and Yoongi glances at him briefly.

“It’s Seokjin-hyung,” he says, gnawing on his lip. “Is it alright if I answer?”

Hoseok shakes his head, the feeling in his gut turning into near panic when he hears that.

“No. No, please, don’t answer— I don’t want him to know you’re here with me!”

“Why not? It’s not like it’s wrong for me to be here, is it?” Yoongi counters, but Hoseok insists.

“No, I know, but he’ll figure that something is wrong with me.”

“Something is wrong with you, Seok, you’ve been pretty much crying all night. And what if it was you calling me, though? Would you like it if I ignored you?”

“He’ll just think you’re asleep! It’s late as fuck— come on, hyung, don’t do this. I miss him, and I’m suffering here.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue and shrugs, like there’s nothing he can do. “Sorry. He’s my best friend, too— just keep quiet. I’ll make something up as I go.”

So, he answers.

Hoseok takes a deep breath and sits up straight next to the older man, not too far from him because a part of him wants to be able to eavesdrop. Without thinking about it, he leans forward to pick his now cold cup of coffee from the table and bring it to his lips, as if doing that will help him being quiet.

He can hear him, vaguely and not too clearly, through the other side of Yoongi’s phone, and it’s not enough, but at least he doesn’t sound as cold as he did back in bar when he was talking to him.

On the contrary, he sounds soft. Quiet. Far too unlike the person he is ninety-nine percent of the time: cool and funny, calm and collected, charming and witty. Hoseok knows this other side of Seokjin, of course. He’s dried Seokjin’s tears away before, so hearing him like this isn’t new to him.

What is new, though, is the guilt he feels churning in his chest, as well as the powerlessness of not being able to put his arms around the older man’s body to comfort him. To comfort himself, too.

Seokjin apologizes to Yoongi for calling so late, and he laughs softly when Yoongi tells him that it’s fine, that it’s not like he sleeps anyway. It makes Hoseok smiles a little, despite himself, and it’s almost gross how whipped he is; how crucial Seokjin’s happiness and well-being became to him, all of a sudden.

’Are you, uh. You know, busy, or something, Yoongichi?’ Seokjin says. ’I just… There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“At ass o’clock?” Yoongi asks, trying to keep a good-natured tone even if Hoseok can see in his face that he’s nervous himself. “It better be a life or death matter.”

Seokjin laughs softly again.

It’s not really life or death, but, uh. It’s… It’s important. Like. Super, super important. I just—‘ he starts, but then his voice breaks. And when his voice breaks, Hoseok’s heart breaks. ’I need to get something off my chest, that’s all,’ he goes on, and Hoseok can hear how choked up he sounds, like he’s trying hard not to cry. ’I’m— I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna bother you, or anyone about it, cause I got myself into this, but it’s been— I’ve been keeping it a secret for a long time, and it’s eating me up right now—‘

“Hyung, hyung, shh, it’s okay,” Yoongi says, interrupting him, and it almost startles Hoseok. For a moment, a very short but excruciating moment, the only thing that existed in his world was Seokjin and his heartbroken, tear-filled voice.

’It’s probably a stupid thing, I’m sorry,’ Seokjin adds, and Yoongi shakes his head even if Seokjin can’t see him.

“I doubt it. Are you at home?”

’Yeah’, the older man croaks. ’Where else would I be?

“Do you want me to go there?”

’I, uh— I don’t know?’ A pause and a sniffle. Hoseok is losing his mind— he suddenly wishes he owned a car so he could drive all the way to Seokjin’s place and hug him. Sadly, he couldn’t be able to do that even if he owned a car. Seokjin’s crying, and he doesn’t want to see him, and it’s all a stupid fucking mess— Hoseok’s probably crying, himself. He doesn’t even know. He cries often.

’Would you wanna come all the way here? I really don’t wanna bother you, but, I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep until I tell someone about this.’

“Shit, hyung, you better not have murdered a person,” Yoongi jokes, and it helps because Seokjin laughs again.

’Not this, time, no.’

“Okay, then. I’ll go to your place, but if I find a corpse you wanna get rid of in there, I’m not helping you.”

’I can’t stand you, Min Yoongi.’

“That’s what they all say.”

When Yoongi hangs up with the promise of being in Seokjin’s place in fifteen minutes, Hoseok feels a little bit better. The knowledge that Seokjin is all the way in his apartment, sad and broken and lonely, is almost unbearable, but at the same time, knowing that Yoongi’s going to be there for him, just how he was there for him just now— Hoseok has no idea how he got so lucky. Yoongi’s been there for them from the very start, and although time has passed and things have changed, he’s still there. He hopes he knows they’re always going to be there for him, too, no matter what happens.

“Everything will be fine, Seok-ah,” Yoongi tells him before he leaves. Hoseok got so used to the darkness of the apartment, that the older man looks kind of odd under the far-too-bright white light of the building hallway – far too pale and bright. Perhaps he is an angel, after all. “Get some sleep.”

“You too, hyung,” he says, and Yoongi nods. “I’m sorry about this, but, uh. Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes (affectionately) as he puts his beanie on. “Goodnight.”


He has to bite his tongue not to tell Yoongi to give Seokjin the warmest, biggest, tightest hug in the world, but he hopes he gives it to him.

Hours pass.

Hoseok told Yoongi he would get sleep, but that was a blatant lie. He tosses and turns on his bed, makes himself two mugs of too-sweet instant coffee, and takes a long shower with scalding hot water that leaves him glowing bright red afterwards.

It’s only hours later, after he has gotten a few messages from Yoongi, one saying ’he misses you’ and the other one telling him to ’please get together and talk your shit out. PLEASE’, that he finally finds the sleepiness in him and he lets it take it over him.



Hoseok isn’t brave, exactly.

He likes to think he is, but he’s not, really, and there’s no way around it.

It’s not just because he’s scared of insects, and of heights and speed, and he can’t stand the idea of a rollercoaster. What he’s afraid of the most, he thinks, is the unknown.

He might be a dancer, and he might be good at improvising when it’s needed and making shit work as he goes, but he’s truly the most comfortable when he has both feet on the ground and he can look through the mist of the future. Uncertainty freezes him at times.

Like now.

After the pitiful episode where he cried his woes out to Yoongi almost the entire night, he froze.

The days after that went by slowly, one after the other. Time turned into something syrupy and thick that just wouldn’t pass quickly through the narrowness of the present. Hoseok would sit on his desk at the call center and look up at the clock on the wall to see it on 2:15 PM. He would get up, go to the bathroom to wash his hands, come back, receive a few phone calls, and distract himself any way he can for what felt like ages, but when he looked up again, the clock would say that less than five minutes had passed.

He knew that the answer to most of his troubles was right there— that he just had to text Seokjin or call him up to ask him if he would like to talk, and things would become easier for them, no matter the outcome of their conversation, but he didn’t dare.

And he didn’t dare, and he didn’t dare, and two days went by slowly like fucking molasses, and then a third day, and he still didn’t fucking dare—

Until he does.

He’s not brave, exactly, and he’s not being brave now. It’s just that Seokjin’s absence and Seokjin’s silence is way, way more painful and terrifying than the uncertainty of the future. He’s lying on his bed while his TV is on in the living room, turned on loudly just so he feels a little less lonely in his tiny apartment. He has no idea what Seokjin is up to because neither of them have said a peep in group chat, and other than what Yoongi wrote him the other night, he hasn’t heard anything else about him.

He misses you, Yoongi told him.

Seokjin called Yoongi on the phone, crying, and then, Yoongi told him that Seokjin missed him.

And Hoseok, the coward, didn’t do anything about it.

Hoseok, the coward, basked in his misery and self-pity for a little longer, because it was comfortable and easy.

Hoseok, the coward, waited for a sign of the universe to tell him that chasing after Seokjin was only going to bring them pain and difficulties, but to no avail. The universe is exactly the same, it seems. The only thing that has changed is the desperation inside of him— the need to see Seokjin, to talk to him like they used to, to make him laugh, and to kiss him until he can’t feel his fucking mouth.

Before he can regret it, he grabs his phone from the night stand.

Before he can stop to think about it, he taps around for his conversation with Seokjin.

The last message there is from weeks ago, from before shit hit the fan and Seokjin visited him the day after his date and brought Chinese take-out food with him. He feels a swirl of uncomfortable emotions when he sees that, as he does when he sees Seokjin’s handsome face, smiling for the camera like nothing is wrong with the world, on his display picture, but instead of making him more scared, it makes him more determined to get this done and over with.

He takes a deep breath before he finally, finally, sends Seokjin a message.

An admittedly stupid message, yeah, but a message nonetheless.


Hobi: (sent at 8:46 PM)
Hey, hyung. How are you?


It’s… something.

He can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins when the yellow number one disappears from next to his text soon enough, indicating that Seokjin saw it, and it only gets worse when he can see Seokjin is typing something, but then deletes it. It happens once, twice, but by the third time, he finally receives a message, and he feels like he could cry.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 8:49 PM)
What is it.


It’s dry and mean, and he even went as far as to change a neutral question mark for a heartless dot at the end of his reply, but it’s fine. It’s alright. It’s better than silence.

Hoseok decides that he too shouldn’t beat around the bush because there’d be no sense in doing that. It’s obvious that he’s texting Seokjin for a reason and not just to talk. It still takes him a moment to get the words out, much like it took Seokjin to manage to send those three words, but after a few attempts, he manages it.


Hobi: (sent at 8:53 PM)
I was just wondering if you’d like to meet one of these days… i wanted to tell you I’m sorry about. you know. about the things that have happened between us lately. i don’t want everything between us to go to hell.


Seokjin’s answer comes quicker this time, and it hurts Hoseok almost physically.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 8:53 PM)
And what makes you think I want to see you too? Perhaps I don’t wanna see you ever again.


Hobi: (sent at 8:54 PM)
hyung come on

Hobi: (sent at 8:54 PM)

Hobi: (sent at 8:54 PM)
I’ll buy you dinner. Anything you want, any restaurant you want, I just

Hobi: (sent at 8:54 PM)
Fucking hell hyung I miss you, I miss you so much, and I’m sorry, I really am, but how the fuck am I supposed to make things better if you don’t let me??

Hobi: (sent at 8:54 PM)
please just this one time, and if after that you decide you still don’t wanna talk to me again, then so fucking be it, but at least let me try.


Hoseok’s hands are shaking, which is in turn making his phone shake. He’s never felt like this— not even breaking up with his last longtime girlfriend felt as intense as this. It felt like more of a chore; like something that just had to be done so they would stop wasting time. This right now feels like a life or death matter, and it’s so foreign to him that he doesn’t even know if he’s doing it right.

After a few minutes, which are spent with Hoseok’s soul hanging from a single thread, Seokjin answers.


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 8:55 PM)
do I really get to pick the place?

Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 8:55 PM)
and you’re really paying?


Hoseok nearly deflates at that.


Hobi: (sent at 8:55 PM)
yes, hyung, really, just tell me yes or no


Jinnie-hyung: (sent at 8:56 PM)
alright, fine.


It’s almost hard to believe.

After that, they text a few times back and forth to adjust the details of their ‘meeting’, so to say, and when Hoseok falls asleep, he does so easily. He feels anxious, terribly so, but at the same time, the knowledge that he’s going to see Seokjin again and that he’ll get to talk to him is comforting.

He has no idea if things will end up alright, though. He doesn’t even know what he wants specifically, but he hopes that getting to talk to Seokjin will make things better for the two of them.



“I thought you were going to go for something more expensive,” Hoseok tells Seokjin as they exit the little but crowded café that is just a ten minute walk away from Seokjin’s apartment complex.

It’s dark outside already even if it isn’t that late. Winter is coming soon, so days are shorter and the wind is colder. Seokjin is in his office clothes, as usual, but so is Hoseok. He had to teach a hip hop class today, but he cancelled everything he had to do the moment Seokjin asked him whether they could meet up the very next day after Hoseok texted him. He knows he could’ve told Seokjin he was busy, but he didn’t want to be busy. He didn’t want anything interfering with the possibility of finally seeing him again, and he didn’t want more days to go by before they could talk. They would’ve probably seen each other tomorrow at the bar, but also, they probably wouldn’t have because they would’ve chickened out from the possibility of seeing each other when there were still so many loose threads between them— so, yeah. The sooner the better.

“I considered it, actually, but I’m not a bloodsucker,” Seokjin replies, his voice soft. His hands are wrapped around his cup of coffee, and his cheeks and the tips of his ears are a little pink. Hoseok doesn’t want to look at him that much, though. He’s scared. He’s scared of what he’ll see if he looks at him, and he’s scared that he won’t want to look away afterwards. It’s a good thing that Seokjin has avoided his eyes just as much as him.

Hoseok busies himself by looking down at his own paper cup. There’s sweet and slightly spicy chai latte inside of it, but he feels that he might throw up if he brings it to his mouth— he’s that nervous.

He’s a baby, sue him.

“You sure you don’t want anything else, though?”

“I’m sure, this is perfect,” Seokjin insists. They’re waiting at a stop light to cross the street, and there’s a park on the other side. They were supposed to stay at the café, but it was so crowded that Seokjin suggested crossing the street and going to the park instead. It’s not that cold that being outside is unbearable, but it’s cold enough that it won’t be too full of people, most of them preferring less windy places to hang out.

“You didn’t even get anything to eat…” Hoseok tries again.

“Hobi, it’s alright,” Seokjin says, and this time he chuckles softly. He sounds nothing like he did on those few texts he sent him before, and just like the last time they saw each other, he looks flawless, but there’s an unmistakable kind of tiredness in his face. The dark circles under his eyes are a little more pronounced than they were last Friday. He seems exhausted. Hoseok knows how Seokjin has this thing where he drowns everything and everyone out by overworking himself in order to get by when he’s going through a difficult time, and knowing that only makes it all worse. A big part of him wants to throw his chai latte away and be able to take Seokjin’s hand.

“You sure?” Hoseok asks as they sit down on a bench.


“One hundred percent sure?”

Yes, Hobi, god—!”

“—alright, alright! I won’t insist anymore.”


“Yeah, good.”

“Sorry,” Hoseok adds, and Seokjin shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” the older man says, and after that, there is silence.

Awkward and terrible silence.

A woman passes by them jogging in a bright orange shirt, the sound of her feet hitting the gravel and the engines of the cars passing by on the street the only sounds that could be heard.

Hoseok isn’t normally like this, and neither is Seokjin.

Normally, they’re loud. The loudest of the bunch, even.

Normally, they can’t keep their mouths shut.

But it’s been a while since things stopped being ‘normal’ between them.

The cardboard cup in Hoseok’s hands is keeping him more or less warm, but he suspects that he would be a million times less cold if he slid a little closer to Seokjin on the bench and allowed their shoulders to bump together.

“So… I was thinking I should start,” Seokjin says all of a sudden, the only warning being a subtle scoff. Hoseok nearly jumps in his seat, turning to look at Seokjin with a surprised frown.

“You? No, I should start, hyung. This is all my fault.”

“Not really?” Seokjin reasons, finally meeting his eyes. He raises one of his perfect eyebrows, and the corner of his lips quirks upwards in an unreadable, kinda bitter smile. “If you think about it, nothing would’ve happened if I had told you my parents set me up on a date with a girl beforehand. It’s… it’s natural that you felt bad about that, and I’m… I’m really sorry, you know? I should’ve said something sooner instead of just… You know, dropping it on the group chat like it was something laughable.”

Hoseok’s frown only deepens at that.

“But, hyung, that wasn’t wrong— like, okay, it wasn’t very orthodox, but I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I shouldn’t have let it bother me to begin with. What you and I have—“ he starts, but he interrupts himself right away, shaking his head. “I mean, what we had, or what we did— we never gave it a name. We fucked around, but we were never a thing. You were free to do whatever the hell you wanted to.”

“I know that, Hobi,” Seokjin tells him, nodding slowly. “But just because we didn’t have a name for it, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have been more careful. There are still unspoken rules when it comes to stuff like this, and I broke them— and not only that, but I also didn’t see that perhaps I started becoming… too much, at some point.”

“Too much?” Hoseok frowns again at that, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Just too much. You know. Acting like you were my boyfriend, or something. I guess I was trying to get you jealous, but, uh. Yeah. It was obvious that that wasn’t what we were about, and I scared you away. But, you know what? It was hard! It was so hard not to get shit mixed up. You’re one of my best friends, and then I started wanting to sleep with you, like, every single day, and— yeah. It was a disaster.”

“But, hyung— I’m pretty sure I started acting like that, too. Like you were my… you know, my boyfriend. And for the same reason as you! That shit— it was hard to compartmentalize!” Hoseok says, and when he looks down he sees Seokjin’s crooked fingers curled up around his cup, his fingernails tapping and scratching against the cardboard. Their hands are near, and god, he just wants to hold them— they’re pulling him like magnets, but he keeps them in place. “I mean, why else would I have turned into a possessive dumbass? This— this is honestly way too weird and way too new for me, but looking back, it’s obvious that your plan succeeded and I got jealous.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, I could tell,” Seokjin says, avoiding his gaze.

“I was still so mean to you, though. Like. I understood what was going on, why I got jealous and all that, but still I went and acted like a jerk because I was too afraid and thought I was doing us both a favor. I told you you were free to do whatever the hell you wanted and that I didn’t care, but of course I cared.”

Seokjin lets out a little humorless chuckle at that.

“You think I didn’t notice? Of course I noticed, Hobi. I was scared too. Not as much as you were, though; only scared enough not to tell you that I had... You know,” he pauses, looking down and away from Hoseok. “That I had started feeling... shit for you..”

Seokjin’s words should feel like a relief, but they don’t, really. He “feels shit” for Seokjin too by now, he’s perfectly aware, but just because the feelings exist doesn’t mean things are magically going to work out and he’s going to stop being a coward.

“I liked you,” Hoseok says, but then he laughs to himself. It sounds so stupid. The word ‘like’ doesn’t encompass even a quarter of the way he feels about Seokjin, and it sounds so childish, too. “I wanted to be with you all the time, but without actually being with you, and I wanted that nameless thing to last for as long as it was possible— it wasn’t supposed to turn so messy, though! We weren’t supposed to start feeling shit! We should’ve just called it a day after the night at the gay club and then forget it all even happened.”

Seokjin chuckles at that, and then he does something— he does what Hoseok has been wanting to do all along.

He reaches forward with one hand so he can press his fingers against Hoseok’s. The touch is subtle, barely there, but it has sparks shootings across Hoseok’s whole body like he has pop rocks instead of red cells in his bloodstream.

“Do you regret it, though?”

It’s all a little too much for Hoseok’s brain. It nearly stops functioning— he looks down to where Seokjin’s fingers are pressing against his own, but when he looks up, his eyes meet Seokjin’s. They look weird. Hopeful but hopeless at the same time. There’s not a hint of coldness or bite in them, though, and it’s comforting to Hoseok to know he’s just as lost; just as sorry about the way things turn out between them.

Hoseok takes a deep breath, and with it, a decision. He lets go of his cup with one hand so he can touch Seokjin’s hand himself. He searches for the spaces between his crooks fingers a little clumsily, and it hits him that this is the first time he’s held Seokjin’s hand in his since this whole business between them started. The way he accepts Hoseok’s hand and even squeezes it tells him that he’s just as plagued with doubts as him, but that letting go of each other and walking out isn’t something he would like.

“Not really,” Hoseok answers honestly. Seokjin laughs softly, and it’s more a sound of relief than of amusement. Hoseok smiles a little at it, but then he looks away. He’s so embarrassed, but at the same time, he knows he has nothing to be embarrassed about because it’s just Seokjin-hyung. He knows him in and out, both literally and metaphorically. “Do you?”

“I mean,” Seokjin starts, squeezing Hoseok’s hand again, and it’s comforting. It feels so oddly right, so warm. “I could’ve done without the confusion and the anxiety, and, like. The panic of it all. Also, the past few weeks were bullshit, and I kinda regret that. But if i ignore those things, all I regret is —and you’ll hit me for this, because it’s so cringy and cliché— that this didn’t happen sooner.”

Hoseok groans at that, but something huge and warm flutters in his chest. Something that’s been there, clinging to his ribs and his heart and his lungs like a very strong vine, for a few weeks already. It was painful and it choked him up, but now it seems to be easing up. Finally.

“That’s so gross, hyung. I don’t know if I wanna hit you or kiss you.”

“Well, if this was a romcom, this would be the part where we kiss.”

“It’s not a romcom, though. It’s real life, and it’s still fucking weird that I wanna kiss you all the time,” Hoseok says, his voice falling to a whisper. Seokjin is close to him. Their hands are clasped and their legs are pressed together, and if Hoseok wanted to, he would be able to count Seokjin’s eyelashes. Or his pores.

“Do you not want to do it, then?” Seokjin asks, his voice just as soft as Hoseok’s. He looks endlessly amused, though, his lips curved upwards onto a dumb smirk that looks so kissable as his eyes alternate between Hoseok’s. He moves a little closer, or perhaps Hoseok does (he’s not sure). On second thought, it’s probably the two of them who do.

Of course Seokjin can kiss him. Hoseok wants that more than anything.

In fact, he wants to never stop kissing Seokjin. He wants to go to sleep kissing him and then wake up to a kiss from him. He wants to kiss him when they watch bad movies, and when he cooks with him, and when he drops him off at work every day.

He wants a million kisses. He wants everything that Seokjin can give and everything that comes with him, and he, too, wants to give him everything. Even if Seokjin came into his romantic plans like a fucking wrecking ball that knocked down even the foundations of who he thought he was, he wants it all.

It’s weird— Hoseok said he didn’t regret what happened, and he actually meant it. He’s scared, but he’s also glad. He couldn’t stand a life without Seokjin in it, and he doubts he’d be able to find anyone he trusts more than him.

“Oh, no, I do wanna,” he says, and Seokjin chuckles. It’s more a breath than an actual laughter, and it flutters nice and warm against Hoseok’s lips.


It takes all of Hoseok’s self-control to stay put and not do something stupid like throw his cup of chai latte to the ground so he can pull Seokjin as close to himself as he can, but moment their lips touch, that’s all he wants to do. Seokjin’s lips taste like creamy sweet coffee, and they are just as plush and soft as he remembered them, and god, Hoseok wants to kiss him forever.

Seokjin lets go of his hand, but he does so only so he can cup the side of Hoseok’s face with his warm fingers.

The park is pretty much deserted, but even if it wasn’t, Hoseok doesn’t think he could pull away. He puts his now free hand over Seokjin’s chest just so he can touch him somehow, no matter if the angle and the position is a little awkward. He wants to feel him— he went a couple of weeks fearing that they wouldn’t get to do this again, and that possibility made him miss and crave Seokjin even more. Kissing him feels more than right, and it sends his brain into a state where nothing else in the world matters. A million things could go wrong, but they all fall apart when Seokjin’s lips are pressing against his, when he can feel him smiling against him, and when he can fill his lungs with his flavor and his scent.

To be honest, Hoseok can’t help but think that it’s a good thing that Seokjin picked a place close to his home. Perhaps it’s kinda primal of him, kinda basic and alpha-male of him, but intimate physical contact with Seokjin and the effect of said intimate physical contact with Seokjin is what got them into this (beautiful) mess in the first place, so even though they’re just kissing, Hoseok’s mind goes straight to the gutter. Straight to the memories of their previous kisses, and how at least ninety percent of them took place in either of their beds.

Hoseok isn’t new to break-ups, and he isn’t new to make-up sex either, and it’s pretty clear that things head in that direction when Seokjin’s hand falls from Hoseok’s face to his neck, to his chest, and then lower. It goes low enough that it reaches Hoseok’s hips and his fingers trace the waistband of his office slacks, all the while a playful yet breathless laughter escapes his lips.

Hoseok can feel himself getting impatient as well. Seokjin’s touches aren’t even inappropriate, just really subtle reminders of things they’ve done already and hints of what they thought they wouldn’t get to do again, but they still get Hoseok all riled up. And it’s different, now. He missed Seokjin so much, he was almost going crazy, but now, as scary as a future together is, it’s also thrilling.

Seokjin does want him, still. Seokjin wants him enough to be borderline vulgar in a public park on a Thursday evening while he holds a caramel macchiato in one hand. Unlike with all his previous relationships, all of them, Seokjin is into Hoseok still, and that’s hot. That’s exciting.

He can’t help but lick into Seokjin’s coffee-tasting mouth and groan when his tongue slides against his, but they’re on a park bench, for heaven’s sake. They’re making out in a public place, out in the open, and it feels so good—

“Eager, huh?” Seokjin pants, pulling back briefly just so he can speak, smirking at Hoseok like he isn’t affected. Hoseok hopes he is.

“I thought we weren’t gonna do this ever again,” he confesses, and Seokjin chuckles breathlessly.

“Me too. I missed it. God— I missed you, you fucking idiot,” he punches Hoseok’s chest, for more effect.

“Me too.”

“But at least you got some in the meantime, though. All I had was my fucking hand, and not even that— I was so sad and overworked, I didn’t even feel like jerking off.”

“Ugh—“ Hoseok pulls back and scrunches his nose in guilt and disgust, not at the bit about Seokjin jerking off (the idea of that is pretty hot, actually), but at the reminder of his supreme idiot behavior. Right. He got so caught up in the happiness of talking things with Seokjin and of kissing him again that he forgot he was a total dickhead. “I forgot I did that. I’m… I’m really sorry, hyung.”

Seokjin shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s fine, now. Don’t even bring it up. Like. It’s whatever. Just don’t do it again, I guess? Please?”

“Are you kidding me? I could never. That was the worst sex of my life— to be honest, I think you ruined me,” Hoseok says without even thinking, but he stops himself when Seokjin laughs, a grin taking over his lips.

“Woah, you think I what, now?” He asks, his nose bumping against Hoseok’s as he presses their foreheads together again, and that’s when Hoseok regrets his words, if only partially. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because Seokjin is a demon who likes to make fun of him.

“I said,” Hoseok starts, but he’s interrupted by a peck from Seokjin (which makes him smile and frown at the same time). “I think you ruined me,” he goes on. He hopes his voice comes out steady and cool, even though he can feel his cheeks heating up. “Or, rather. You ruined sex with girls for me. Congrats on that.”

“Aww,” Seokjin coos, and then he pecks Hoseok’s lips again. “That’s cute. And also kinda gay.”

“Ugh. Shut the fuck up.”

Seokjin laughs again, but he kisses Hoseok again, and again, and again, and Hoseok kisses back every time. He can’t get enough already, and they only just started—

“I’d rather you shut me up,” Seokjin says flirting, smirking, and it feels like a deja-vu.

“I can’t do that properly at a park, hyung; I’m not a savage.”

“Well, come over, then,” Seokjin asks, an excited and promising glimmer on his eyes.

Hoseok doesn’t hesitate for a second before he tells him yes, yes, a billion times.

He doesn’t even feel bad that they end up throwing their cold and pretty much untouched drinks on a trash can somewhere on the way to Seokjin’s place.



Hoseok isn’t new to love, but, as it was stated before, he doesn’t know what words he should use to describe it, exactly.

He’s starting to suspect that there isn’t one single way to love someone. Even romantically speaking, there isn’t one single, correct way to love someone, and all relationships are different.

He loves Seokjin. He’s known that for years.

He’s in love with Seokjin, too. He’s only known that for a few weeks.

Still, he’s drowning in it. He thinks he would rather lose one of his limbs than saying goodbye to him forever, and he’s a dancer, so that’s saying something.

That night, when they get to Seokjin’s place, as impatient as they both are, they still take their sweet time unraveling each other, undressing each other, and making fun of each other for anything and everything.

Hoseok nearly trips on the carpet, and Seokjin accidentally stubs his toe on the corner of his bed and nearly cries because of it, but it’s perfect anyways.

Seokjin kisses his neck just the way he likes, and Hoseok teases the older man’s nipples just the way he knows by now drives him crazy. They’re both tired, completely spent not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally, but somehow they still find energy to seek each other out with their hands and mouths.

Hoseok feels good lying there, in the middle of Seokjin’s bed, his fingers tangled between strands of silky black hair as thick wet lips travel down his skin, and soft yet strong and manly hands roam his body.

They’re not just anyone’s lips and hands— they’re Seokjin’s. Seokjin’s lips parting to let out sighs of want when he tugs just hard enough on his hair. Seokjin’s hands squeezing his thighs and pulling his boxers down. Seokjin’s lips smiling dangerously up at him before his teeth bury onto his inner thigh.

“That’s for fucking other people even though you knew you had feelings for me,” he says, though there’s not one bit of spite on his voice.

“Ow, fuck! Hyung, come on, don’t torture me— I thought we were over that!”

“Yeah, no, I won’t hold that against you, baby, don’t worry. But I won’t suck you off until you tell me one thing…”

Hoseok gasps and a shiver runs through him when Seokjin’s fingers wrap around the base of his cock and his hot breath ghosts against the head. He’s almost there, so close and so far at the same time—

“Tell you what?” He asks. Seokjin’s lips press a chaste kiss to the top of his cock that has his breath catching in his throat, but they’re soon gone. They drag over his thigh instead, kissing the place he bit before a dozen times, which is kinda soothing, but also kinda maddening.

“That you thought about me when you were with them,” he says, and shit, Hoseok can do that. He can do that, and he can mean it, so he does.

“Of course I thought about you,” he tells him. His fingers are still buried in Seokjin’s hair, but rather than moving him around to will, he’s caressing his scalp with his fingertips instead, letting him have the upper hand. “What else do you think I could’ve thought about? I missed you, and when I went and did that, it was useless and stupid. I told you before. I only want you, now. It’s like you cursed me, or something.”

“Tell me you want me,” Seokjin says, chuckling huskily against Hoseok’s leg. He’s rubbing his nose against the sensitive skin of Hoseok’s thigh and kissing it, and stroking Hoseok’s length with his dry fist in a way that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. “Tell me you want me, Hobi, and no one else.”

“I want you, hyung— I only want you. I mean it, I really, really do,” he manages out even if he’s starting to lose his mind, and thankfully, it seems to be enough for the older man. Seokjin pulls back, crawls all the way up to plant a lip-bruising kiss on Hoseok’s lips, and then he finally takes him into his mouth.

And, shit, he’s just as good as Hoseok remembered.

Seokjin has a big mouth, fat heavenly lips, and a skilled tongue, and the way he uses them makes Hoseok feel like he’s underwater, or like he’s flying, or both. He can’t stop sighing and gasping, muttering words of appraisal that Seokjin acknowledges with soft groans and eager licks and pumps of his fist.

It’s very similar to their first time.

Hoseok is just as bewitched by the sight in front of him as he was back then, except this time, he’s not intoxicated in the slightest, and there’s a strong fire burning not only in his loins, but also in his heart.

“You look so good, hyung,” he says (blabbers), even if he can barely stop to catch his breath. “Fuck, your mouth is so perfect, and you look— you look so pretty like this. So pretty for me—“

Much like the first time, Hoseok holds himself up with his elbows so he can watch because he doesn’t want to miss a single thing, and much like the first time, it doesn’t take him too long to come undone.

Seokjin doesn’t try to pull away before Hoseok comes, though, not even if he tries to warn him. He swallows it all, even if Hoseok’s hips snap forward and the grip of his fingers on his hair tightens considerably. He swallows it all, and he looks at Hoseok in the eyes when he does. Hoseok doesn’t even stop to think before he pulls Seokjin up again, flips them around so Seokjin can take a fucking well-deserved rest, and he kisses him hard, taking in the bitter but sensual taste of himself and a faint, barely-there trace of coffee in the older man’s tongue. His whole body is shaking, barely recovered, but he’s so excited about making Seokjin feel good that he pays his shivering limbs no mind and braces himself.

“You’re so good at that, I’m mad,” he tells the older man between kisses, and Seokjin chuckles breathlessly, his hands caressing Hoseok’s back sweetly.

“I’m so glad the hours I invested reading Cosmopolitan sex tips the last couple months have paid off.”

“Oh god— you did that?”

“I did, yeah,” Seokjin laughs again, running both hands down Hoseok’s bare chest now, his fingertips tracing every line and every curve of his body like it’s something holy. Hoseok’s whole body is buzzing, twice as exhausted as he was before, but happy and satiated as well. He’s sleepy because orgasms always make him sleepy, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give Seokjin a mind blowing orgasm of his own.

“Me too,” he confesses. “But I don’t think I’m as good yet. I haven’t even had a chance to practice. “

“Neither have I. Except for. You know. Bananas.”

Hoseok can't help but laugh at that.

“What the—? Hyung, you’ve been deepthroating bananas to prepare yourself for this?”

Seokjin shrugs and avoids his gaze. The tips of his ears are burning, and the corners of his lips are threatening to break into an embarrassed smile.

“What can I say? I didn’t wanna disappoint.”

“And here I thought you were, like, born to suck cock…”

“Sucking cock is a skill. A craft. Though I have to say that I am gifted with a nonexistent gag reflex.”

Hoseok chuckles at that as he leans down to kiss Seokjin’s lips.

“Well, I’m not. And I haven’t practiced on fruit, but I’ll still do my best, okay?” he asks, and Seokjin nods, smiling.

“Okay, babe. Try to play with my nipples while you’re at it, if you can— I bet I’ll be coming in no time if you do.”

He hums against the older man’s lips before he gives him one last peck.

“Good idea.”

That’s the last thing he says before he moves down Seokjin’s body.

It’s not nearly as intimidating as he remembered it to be, though.

He still chokes accidentally every now and then, and he isn’t particularly fond of the taste, but Seokjin’s loud responses make it all more than worth it. Hoseok has to hold his hips down at first because the older man squirms a lot, but he finds himself making plenty of eye contact with him, confident and unembarrassed even though his lips are almost painfully stretched and his throat refuses to let him go all the way down. Seokjin loves it, and that’s more than enough.

His eyes fill with tears, but he finds himself enjoying it a lot. The way Seokjin strokes his hair and the way he moans loudly with his whiny yet still kind of deep voice only adds fuel to the fire. It’s only when he’s confident that he won’t choke if he lets go partially of Seokjin’s constantly bucking hips that he attempts to reach for his chest, his fingers seeking the place where he’s most sensitive.

When Seokjin comes not too long afterwards, he does so almost completely quietly, as usual. The only sound he lets out is a choked gasp of Hoseok’s name as his hips lift off the bed, and even if his mouth and throat are filled with cum, Hoseok doesn’t stop sucking. His hand is wrapped loosely around the base of the Seokjin’s dick now, and he’s pumping every last drop from him. It’s almost surreal how eager he is to lap it all up, to take it all in, and how his mind even takes a split second to suggest the idea of having Seokjin cum on him some time, marking his skin, or, maybe someday even in him.

As he catches his breath, his eyes scrunched shut tight, his forehead pressed against Seokjin’s hip as he pants, and his fingers rubbing the achy corners of his mouth, he thinks about that. About Seokjin’s cum on his skin, or his own cum on Seokjin, and what a pretty sight that’d be. The very first they did anything, Seokjin caught his cum on his lips, and the sight of that is still embedded in Hoseok’s memory— in fact, it’s probably been his number one jerk-off fantasy material since it happened. Once again, perhaps it’s kinda alpha-male of him, kinda caveman-ish of him, but there’s something he likes about that; something that that indicates possession.

Hoseok knows Seokjin doesn’t belong to him just like he doesn’t belong to him, obviously, but in a way, he supposes, he kind of does.

He kind of wants to.

Even if this is not the kind of love he thought he would live, and even if Seokjin is nothing like the person he imagined he would stick around with in the present or the future, he wants to be his.

“So… Are we going to be a thing, now?”

It’s Seokjin who asks that question, moments later.

They’re lying on his bed, still naked from head to toe, warm skin on warm skin on soft and comfy bed sheets. Hoseok is pressed up against Seokjin’s side, one of his legs thrown over both of Seokjin’s, and his eyes are closed as Seokjin runs one of his hands up and down his back, his fingertips stroking his skin soothingly, almost tenderly. Hoseok knows he’d be purring if he were a cat— he’s just so happy and content there, resting his head on Seokjin’s broad chest where he can hear his heartbeat louder and clearer than he can hear his own doubts, that he could stay there forever.

He wonders if he could quit his job at the call center in order to do that, at least during fifty percent of that forever. A life without responsibilities he doesn’t want, doing nothing but dancing half of the time and spending the other half sharing body heat with Seokjin sounds quite fulfilling

He hums. He’s tracing aimless patterns over Seokjin’s pectoral. It’s a flat pectoral. Not a trace of boob there. Seokjin works out at a gym twice a week in the morning, so all his muscles are slightly defined. It’s not a soft cushion exactly, but it’s fucking perfect regardless. Who would’ve thought.

“I guess so?” Hoseok replies.

“You don’t sound exactly convinced…” Seokjin says again, and Hoseok can sense some insecurity in his voice. He pouts as he looks up at him.

“It’s just kinda weird for me, still. All of this, I mean. I love it, though, and even if it’s odd and it’s gonna take some time to get used to everything, that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna, cause I do want it. I mean. You’re you, you’re my best bro, so I can’t just start acting all romantic with you even if I do... You know… Love you, and all that,” he reaches with his hand so he can touch Seokjin’s face. He strokes the side of his cheek gently, smiling when Seokjin smiles, assured, but then he squeezes the older man’s cheek instead and his smile turns into a playful smirk. “So, yeah. I don’t wanna be without you. I do. If you wanna be with me, too.”

“I do wanna be with you.”

“You’re not gonna ditch me in a couple of months like you’ve done your past girlfriends though, right?” Hoseok asks, his fingers still massaging and squeezing Seokjin’s cheek playfully. Seokjin lets him, even if he huffs at his words.

“Please. I’ve known and have been around you for years. What makes you think I’d want to get rid of you just because you’ve fucked my ass and I’ve fucked yours? If anything, I want you as close to me as I can have you.”

Hoseok groans, but he’s endeared. Grossly endeared. He stops playing with Seokjin’s cheeks so he can leans down and bite the tip of his nose instead.

“That was terrible.”

(He presses a kiss to Seokjin’s nose after he bites it).

“I know it was. Just. Let me be and I’ll leave you be. This is all new for me, Hobi, you know? Not just because you’re a guy, but also because I’d never felt this way about anyone in the world. I might’ve ruined girls for you, but you ruined, like, everybody in the world for me. I’m Hobi-sexual.”

Hoseok hisses, even if he thinks—he knows— it’s the same for him. It’s not that girls were ruined for him after being with Seokjin. Girls are alright, and it’s not like he’s suddenly interested in the entire male species, either. He just found everything he could’ve wanted in someone who happened to not be a girl. Perhaps he’s bi? Could he say he’s bi if he’s in love with a man but not into men in general? He’s not sure. He should have a long conversation about sexual orientations with Namjoon one of these days because he’s totally lost on the subject. Surely his friend will be able to shed a light on all the shit he’s still confused about.

“I know, I know. It’s the same for me, but that mean you’re not a cringy motherfucker, though.”

“Hey!” Seokjin exclaims, his hand squeezing Hoseok’s waist in a way that has him yelping because he’s ticklish there. “I might be your boyfriend now, but I’m still you hyung. Treat me with respect.”

Hoseok snorts at that, or tries to, because the tickles are terrible.

“Alright, alright! You’re a cringy hyung, then! Same thing! A cringy boyfriend— stop tickling me, cut it out!”

God, it sounds so foreign but so right at the same time.

Seokjin grins at that.

“That’s better,” he says, his hand finally leaving Hoseok’s ticklish waist and moving all the way up to cup his cheek instead.

“Dickhead,” Hoseok hums against Seokjin’s lips when he pulls him into a kiss. It’s a lazy, soft kiss that tastes like toothpaste and sleepiness and feels like home.

“Don’t start again, Hobi.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue, smirking a little, but he does stop. He spends a while there, partially lying on top of Seokjin’s body and with his lips ghosting against his. He brushes his lips against his, never actually kissing him but with their lips always touching. When he pulls back slightly to look at Seokjin’s face, he finds that his eyes are closed and that he has a big dumb smile on his big dumb lips.


“You know… My mom will have a heart attack when she finds out I’m dating you,” Hoseok says, tracing his fingertips gently over the lines of Seokjin’s features, softly over his lips, his tall nose, and his strong eyebrows, before finally he takes his hand to his hair. He pushes the sweaty black strands backwards before he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. The gesture has the older man humming, and the sight of his face, calm and happy, has warm butterflies fluttering in Hoseok’s stomach.

“Mine, too,” Seokjin tells him, then, his voice syrupy with tiredness. “But… I guess there’s nothing they can do about it but accept it.”

“Yup. It’s kinda scary, though, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Totally,” Seokjin agrees, pulling him down to kiss him lightly one one last time. That’s the last thing he does before he finally lets himself start to succumb to his sleepiness. Hoseok is hit by how tired he is himself. He has no idea what time it is, but he hasn’t touched his phone in so long, he’s sure that when he picks it up again, he's going to have a hundred missed notifications. There are going to be texts from Yoongi asking how the meeting with Seokjin went (which he probably sent to Seokjin as well), and their friends are going to be asking who’s willing to meet up at the bar the next day.

Which reminds him— they should definitely tell them when they see them.

He can't wait to see how they’ll react.

Hoseok knows they won’t believe it.

Seokjin turns around so he can accommodate himself with his back against Hoseok’s chest, and it feels so right. Seokjin is bigger than him, but he’s such a good little spoon. Hoseok doesn’t know how he does it, but he seems to make himself smaller than he is when they sleep together.

“We’ll figure it out,” the older man says, sleepily, tangling their legs together under the blanket. “We always figure shit out in the end, no matter what it is. You and I… we’ve always been unstoppable. A perfect duo. Like. J.D. and Turk. I’m sure we’ll be alright.”

Hoseok snorts at that, but he also smiles.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been as warm and comfortable as he is right now. Seokjin makes him feel more content and safe than anything and anyone in the world, so he snuggles as close to him as he can.

“Yeah, we will.”



Hoseok isn’t nervous.

He had an amazing morning with Seokjin, making out in the bed, in the shower, in the kitchen, and then in the car. They also had a good time scrolling through dumb memes together and spamming the group chat with them. In the car, they jammed to all the songs they used to listen to in college, and they held hands. They also sent a photo of them pulling funny faces along with a caption that said nothing but the words ‘guess what’ to Yoongi, and before their friend could even reply, they warned him to keep the secret with his life at least until tonight, otherwise they’d send a hitman to get him. They know that telling something to Yoongi means telling the same thing to Namjoon, and somewhere along the way, the other three always end up in the loop, but they want to tell them themselves.

Yoongi, the wise guy he is, respects that and tells them not to worry.

He also tells them the only reason he doesn’t think this is nothing but a very elaborated prank of theirs is that he had to comfort both of their crying, heart-broken asses in the dead of the night, to which Hoseok and Seokjin look at each other with sheepish smiles that translate to ‘sorry I was an idiot, but also, I love you’.

After threatening Yoongi and getting dropped off at work by his Long-time Best Friend Recently Turned Boyfriend, he had a good day at work, even if nothing out of the extraordinary.

But then he started getting a weird feeling in his gut.

Seokjin and he came up with a plan on how to break the news to the other unsuspecting members of their gang, and they’re going to go through with it tonight at the bar, but he’s not nervous about that.

Is he?

It’d be pointless and stupid if he was. There’s literally nobody in the world as understanding as his friends. Sure, this is a major plot-twist of the universe: they’re the only two allegedly straight guys of their group; the token straight friends in an otherwise rainbow bunch, and yet; they ended up together.

Surely the guys will understand. Surely they won’t believe that Hoseok and Seokjin have somehow destroyed the dynamics of their group by dating one another.

That’s what he tells himself as he powers through the second half of his shift, as he rides the bus that will take him to the little bar in Hongdae he’s so used to, and as he sits down next to Taehyung, who throws an arm around his shoulders and flashes the brightest, most squared grin at him right away.

Everybody’s there, and everybody’s happy to see him, it seems. They’re all glad he didn’t waste part of the night with a girl. Yoongi keeps avoiding his eyes but smirking to himself when they accidentally catch a glimpse of each other, but judging by how the others are doing nothing but talk about how their respective days went and mentioning the memes that Seokjin and he sent to the group chat in the morning, they’re still in the dark.


That’s good.

They’re about to find out, and Hoseok is sure it’s going to be hilarious; he is not nervous about this—

“Oh, Jin-hyung’s here!” Jungkook exclaims, waving his hand at someone behind Hoseok, and Hoseok’s heart does a weird thing. Like it doesn’t know whether to beat at twice the normal speed or simply not beat at all. Also, his cheeks heat up, and so do his guts, and it’s not the beer.

Okay, so maybe he is a little nervous after all.

“Hey, losers,” Seokjin says once he’s close enough. Hoseok tries to seem cool and unaffected because that was their plan, but he can’t help but stiffen a little in surprise when the older man’s hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes it. “Sorry I’m a little late— I couldn’t find where to park. I’m all the way around the next block. How are you, Hobi?”

“Hyung, hey,” Hoseok starts, smiling as he turns to look up at Seokjin. Unlike the day before at this same time, he looks well-rested now. He had a long day at work, yeah, but he smiles back at Hoseok like he won the lottery. Hoseok puts his own hand over the one Seokjin placed on his shoulder, and after that, the older man leans down to greet him with kiss him on the lips, just like they said they would do.

It was meant to be a short kiss, sweet and brief, like a natural greeting between lovers, but Seokjin gets a little too into it, and he cups Hoseok’s cheek with his other hand as he kisses him for a moment too long. And who is Hoseok to pull back? He’s been craving this all day long. He’s been craving this for weeks— no matter how much Seokjin kisses him, it will never be enough.

It doesn’t go on long enough that it’s rude, though. Hoseok tugs on Seokjin’s ear (which is burning hot), and he smiles at him as he pulls back.

The silence in the table is absolute— Hoseok doesn’t even have to look around to know that everyone (except probably Yoongi) has their jaw on the floor.

“Oops, sorry,” Seokjin apologizes with a sheepish smile, and Hoseok waves a hand dismissively at him as he scoots over to make room for him.

“It’s fine. How was your day? Too much work?”

“It was pretty boring, actually. But you know, after the hellish time I’ve had last month, that’s actually a miracle. How about you?” Seokjin asks him, and Hoseok can’t help but be impressed. He knows Seokjin took a few acting glasses back in college, but the naturality with which he carries himself is amazing. His red ears are the only giveaway. They aren’t technically acting, though, unless “acting like they would do if it was just the two of them and they’re unaffected by the fact that this is their first time coming clean about themselves to their friends” counts as acting.

“Ugh, you’re right. My day was boring, too,” he says, looking at Seokjin as he takes his hand over the table. It’s cold against his own warm one, so he squeezes it, hoping the gesture will warm him up if only a little. No one has said a peep yet, and it’s just as funny as it is worrisome, but he goes on like nothing is happening. “I mean, you know it’s never too hectic at the call center, but today it was extra dead—“

“—wait a minute, hold up,” someone says, his voice cutting loud and borderline panicky through Hoseok’s lame small talk and Seokjin’s laughter. It’s Namjoon, who is sitting with Yoongi and Jungkook across the table, right in front of him.

Hoseok looks at them and he can barely contain his laughter. His nerves are beyond gone by now— Namjoon looks hilarious with his eyes wider than they have ever been. Yoongi is hiding his amused yet endeared face behind his bottle of non-alcoholic beer, and Jungkook looks like he saw a ghost and still hasn’t gotten over it.

“Am I going mad, or did you guys— did you kiss?” Namjoon asks to Hoseok, but then he turns to the others. “They kissed, right? On the lips? Tell me you saw it too—“

“I saw it too, hyung; you’re not going mad,” Taehyung says, and Hoseok has to turn his head to look at him. He looks just as shell-shocked as Jungkook, and so does Jimin behind him.

“Okay, cool,” Namjoon nods his head, his brow furrowed, and Hoseok swears that he can see the gears in his brain turning. He looks like he wants to say something else but he can’t bring himself to, and then Jimin beats him to it.

“What was that?” He asks. “Some weird experiment you’re doing?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. It’s Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung. If you think about it, it’s probably nothing but a prank,” Jungkook says after he recovers his speech. He doesn’t sound as shocked as he looked like at first anymore. In fact, he looks borderline smug, like he got it all figured out in seconds. Namjoon goes ’oooh’ next to him, but Seokjin clicks his tongue.

“Hey, no. What’s that supposed to mean? That it’s ‘just Hobi and I’?” Seokjin asks in that mock-angry voice he uses whenever he fights with the youngest of their group.

“That you make jokes out of stuff. I don’t know what you’re trying to do with this one, though…” Jungkook counters, and Seokjin scoffs.

“So what you’re saying is I can’t kiss my boyfriend if I want to simply because you think it’s a joke?”

Jungkook blinks at him, his mouth open like he can’t find the words.

Next to Hoseok, Taehyung whispers ’did he say boyfriend? to Jimin, but Hoseok doesn’t get to hear Jimin’s answer because it’s Namjoon who speaks up this time.

“You’re just playing with us,” he says, laughing to himself as he shakes his head.

“Not this time, actually,” Hoseok tells him. He tries to sound as honest and serious as he can, but Seokjin’s arm is wrapped around him and his hand is stroking his bicep through his shirt, and the mere gesture makes him smile, which certainly reduces credibility points. “Long story short, we realized that we liked each other, so we decided to be together.”

“That sounds so fake, hyung—“ Taehyung says. He’s still in the stage one of confusion, it seems. “You really expect us to believe that? For real?”

“It’s the truth, though! Come on, Tae— we wouldn’t joke about something like this. It’s for real.”

“But, like. I mean, I don’t believe it one second, but hypothetically speaking, if you're not just fucking around and you’re really, you know, together, then I got so many questions!” Jimin starts, visibly excited by all that’s going on even if still surprised. “How? When? Where? You’re both strai— I mean. You both had girlfriends, didnt you? What happened to them? Also, how come we didn’t know anything?”

Seokjin is in the middle of taking a big gulp of air in order to answer him (in what will probably be a loud way), when Yoongi speaks up for the first time, and thank fuck he does.

“I have a feeling that you won’t believe them if I don’t jump in to say that they’re not joking and they’re actually dating,” he says, silence falling upon the table at once when he starts speaking. He’s so damn powerful and credible, Hoseok is glad he told him about them before, even if he only got in the loop a few days ago. “Like. I know it’s hard to believe because it’s them, but gay epiphanies can happen at any age,” then he turns at Hoseok and Seokjin. “But I gotta say that that was a shitty way to come out. You couldn’t have expected them to take you seriously—“

“—hold up, you knew about this?” Namjoon turns to look at Yoongi, looking and sounding like he got betrayed in the worst possible way.

Yoongi just shrugs, twirling his non-alcoholic beer in his hand.

“College best friends privileges, baby,” he says smugly, so Hoseok chirps in.

“Don’t listen to him, we only told him a few hours ago,” he says, smirking.

“Oh, so last week’s tear fest meant nothing to you? Okay. Alright. I see how it is, Seok-ah. See if I ever let you cry on my shoulder again.”

Hoseok snickers at that, not as embarrassed as he is amused by the chaos. Seokjin squeezes his arm and moves closer so he can lean his head on his shoulder, comfortably, like he belongs there. It’s not a new thing, though. In fact, they have been doing this for years, since before they started sleeping together, but for some reason it has fireworks going off in Hoseok’s stomach.

Love is weird. Yeah. That sums it up pretty well.

“But… sorry to insist, guys, but I’m still so lost,” Jimin speaks up again. “Like, it’s great that you’re together, it really is, but I don’t understand how it even happened. Is it rude? Can I ask? Cause if you’re going to be all over each other from now on —which is beautiful, please don’t ever stop—, I think we deserve to know the story in order to officially welcome you to the LGBTQ club. We’ve all had to answer terribly nosy questions from straight people, so it’s only fair that we do the questions now.”

Seokjin laughs, but he nods as best as he can from where he is perched on Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Alright. Shoot. What do you wanna know?”

“Aside from everything, you mean,” Hoseok hears Jungkook mumble.

“Well, the start of it? You haven’t been pining for one another for ages, have you?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin snorts.

“Not at all. This is actually all new,” he says.

“We’re only a little less shocked than you all are, to be honest,” Hoseok adds.

“Okay,” Jimin says, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he nods slowly. “But then… how? I mean why? Why so all of a sudden?”

At that, Hoseok smirks to himself.

It all seems to have happened ages ago, while at the same time it feels like it was only just yesterday.

Not that it matters now— not when there’s a million days in the future waiting ahead of them.

“Okay, so. Here’s how it went,” he starts, clearing his throat. “It all started a few months ago, when hyung and I were chillin’ at the gay club.”