It becomes clear to Yoongi that the maknae wants something when he snatches the cheque from his hand after dinner. They’re on their bi-monthly skewer outing, a practice that would have been financially draining for the elder had Bangtan not finally started to succeed.
Because Jeongguk has never paid. Not once in the six years he’s known him has the kid ever made any move to chip in even a measly ten thousand Won.
But here he is, brushing his fingers over the back of his hand with a soft, “Hyung,” as he pulls it away.
Yoongi thinks he’s joking, looks up at him a tries to plaster on the least flustered expression he can manage, “Real funny, Gguk. You should go into comedy, or something.”
Jeongguk just blinks at him with those stupid doe eyes of his, “Huh? Did I make a weird face, or something?”
“Don’t forget the ‘hyung’,” he huffs, eyes filtering down to Jeongguk’s wallet, which he’s just plopped on the table. Then, realising he’s been asked a question, he says, “Are you sure you can afford dinner?”
“I’m wearing a Rolex, I think I can manage,” Jeongguk snorts, “Is there anything wrong with wanting to treat my favourite hyung to dinner every now and then?”
“Didn’t you call Hobi your favourite last week?”
The younger shrugs once before twisting around to call over the waiter. He’s lost weight, Yoongi thinks as he scans his profile, and though he worries the kid’s treating himself a little too harshly, a tiny part of him can’t help but admire how sharp his jawline’s grown.
As always, he turns his eyes down to his phone just in time for Jeongguk swing back around and huff, “I’m not a baby anymore, hyung. I want to treat you, and I can. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about me never paying for anything?”
He’s kind of glad he isn’t looking him in the eyes. He isn’t sure how he’d react.
He can’t really put a finger on when his feelings for Jeongguk went from brotherly to romantic. Sexual, if he’s to be completely honest. Not that he wants to. Having feelings for someone he practically raised is gross, not to mention complicated considering the fact they’re bandmates, but.
But what? Where’s his excuse? His move to deny it?
He has none. He ran out of those when Jeongguk turned eighteen and he couldn’t use the other’s age to help him suppress his budding feelings.
Ever since then, it’s been a landslide of butterflies and overthinking and as much as he hates to admit it, lingering touches. He’s usually pretty good, but Jeongguk has become a lot more comfortable with PDA since growing into himself and Yoongi is a weak man. A weak man whose resolve is quickly withering away.
Which means, yes, whenever Jeongguk leans into him, he jumps to throw his arm around his shoulder. Or when their fingers brush, he can’t help but to intertwine them.
Jeongguk, of course, thinks nothing of it. Hell, he does the same thing with the other five of his best friends and the elder is promptly reminded that that’s all he is. A best friend.
In principle, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.
It’s better this way, he reminds himself time and time again. If Jeongguk had feelings for him, they’d be impossible not to act on, and they can’t afford such mistakes these days. There’s simply too much to lose, something that had hit Yoongi in the shower after one of those American awards shows.
He can’t remember which one. They all pass in a blur, put him into this hazy headspace that he can’t quite place. What he can recall is that Jeongguk had triggered it. Thoughts of how much he’d matured since their first time together in America had catapulted him into guilt.
Loving Jeongguk is such a bad idea.
But he can’t help that he does, and he hates himself for it. Can’t help how drawn he is to him, or the way he stares at him when he thinks no one’s looking. He wishes he had some semblance of control, but he’s only so strong.
What else is he to do but suffer in silence? Or well, in a way he just digs himself deeper. He gives Jeongguk his clothes to wear, writes song after song about him, lets him drag him out to regular dinners and regularly drags him out to dinner.
It sucks. But Jeongguk is so pretty when he smiles and though the knowledge he’ll never be able to kiss him only worsens his depression, he figures it worth his while. He is sort of a masochist, after all.
As long as he doesn’t stand a chance, he’ll be alright.
Because if Jeongguk wants him back? If he makes a move? Yoongi doesn’t have a doubt in his mind he’ll give in.
The sane part of his brain wants for Jeongguk not to want him. It reminds him every time Jeongguk hugs him a little longer than he does Taehyung, that he’s just imagining things. It tells him never to show Jeongguk the songs he’s written, just in case his efforts to communicate how love sick he is actually work (though, let’s be honest, Jeongguk is dense as can be) and most importantly, to crush any hope he can feel rising within him that his feelings might be mutual.
Which is why, when his brain suggests to him that there could have been something more to Jeongguk covering the bill, he knocks it down. Or, he tells himself, if he does want something it’s not… like that. It’s not a date thing. It can’t be.
Jeongguk could always be growing up, just as Yoongi did around his age. It’s probably only now occurred to the kid that he owes him roughly seven million Won of dinners. He’s probably trying to make it up to him. Jeongguk is a good person. Yoongi shouldn’t read too deep into it.
Except he then shows up to his room the next day with a bottle of Scotch. Nice Scotch. Scotch that costs well over three million Won. Macallan No.6.
And see, this would all be well and good weren’t it for three things:
- Jeon Jeongguk cannot, for the life of him, stand Scotch. He’d taken him out for it in Malta and the kid hadn’t stopped complaining about it for days.
- When Yoongi later on Google’s ‘Expensive Scotch’, Macallan No.6 is one of the first results, meaning that is most certainly what led Jeongguk to choose that specific brand.
- It’s only available online, imported from the UK
The third point stands out in Yoongi’s mind because he knows this, has ordered a bottle or two of Macallan for himself, though Jeongguk claims he, “Stumbled across it in Handong and thought of him.”
Does the thought give him butterflies? Absolutely.
He turns the bottle over in his hand, wondering what on earth could be going on. He knows he should quit overthinking it and accept the gift like a normal person, but he still says, “Stumbled, huh?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Jeongguk wringing his hands, “Uh, yeah. It was in a window, or something. Caught my eye. Do you like it, hyung?”
“Yeah, Gguk,” he looks up at him, though just for a second, “Thank you.”
He wishes he could provide a little more in terms of how much he appreciates the gesture, fishy as it is, but he can’t find the words to express himself in a way that doesn't give away how in love he really is.
He hums and spins on his heel.
“Wait,” Yoongi responds much to quickly to keep up his unbothered facade. They’d had the day off today, and though he usually enjoys holing up in his room or the studio to take some time to himself, he’s sort of missed Jeongguk. “Where are you going?”
He stops and looks over his shoulder, “To get a glass. Don’t you wanna try it?”
He sort of wants to save it for a special occasion, but Jeongguk’s eyes have grown wide the same way they had last night when he’d grabbed at the cheque. Yoongi melts, stuttering out a quick, “Yeah, alright,” in hopes to chase the younger out before his cheeks begin to flush red.
He has no idea how he’s managed the past two years and further, how Jeongguk’s missed it. Namjoon sure hasn’t. Neither has Hobi, Seokjin, Jimin or Taehyung.
“You’re lucky,” Seokjin had once said, “That the kid’s as dense as can be. You could probably spread yourself out on his bed buck-ass naked and ask him to-”
“That’s enough,” he’d snapped in response, crossing his legs in an attempt to hide the twitch it’d elicited from his dick, “He’s literally across the room.”
“Told you it’d work,” Tae’d sniggered.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Jeongguk reentering the room. He flashes his bunny teeth at Yoongi and holds up two glasses, “I’m gonna try some with you, if that’s alright. Wanna see why this costs what it did.”
He can’t help but be endeared at the gesture, knows Jeongguk is just being polite, but can’t wait to see the soured expression on his face. The way his nose scrunches up, his brows furrow and his pretty pink mouth twists into a-
“You good, hyung? Lookin’ a little spacey.”
“Long day is all,” he lies, eyes following him as he takes his place at the foot of the bed. He wants to ask him to move a little closer, but these days, every single gesture he makes feels tainted, as if their relationship has been stripped of its innocence. Which he hasn’t. He’s never made a move on Jeongguk, never touched him inappropriately or made any explicit comments, but he knows his intentions are no longer pure and he lets it bother him. “Had a tough time in the studio.”
Jeongguk whacks his shoulder, sloshing a little liquor onto his sheets. Not that Yoongi has it in himself to mind, “I’m sure you got at least one song out, no? You’re like a well oiled machine, hyung.”
“Yeah, not really. I have a melody or two down, but nothing solid as of yet.” He’s lying. He’d hammered out three pages of lyrics before three in the afternoon, all about Jeongguk. But he can’t admit to any of that because the kid is his number one fan, so eager to hear or read anything he comes up with the second he’s comfortable with sharing it. More importantly, Yoongi is unable to say no whenever he asks.
Their fingers brush when he hands him his glass. He’s poured at least three times what he’s supposed to, but Yoongi says nothing. It’s not like he can’t afford another bottle if he really needs it and besides, a drink might be nice.
A drink with Jeongguk might be nice, he corrects himself once the younger’s got about half a glass down his throat. Yoongi always forgets (read: represses the painful memory of) just how cute he gets when he’s tipsy.
The stars in his eyes shine brighter, his cheeks flush a deep red and with each sip of alcohol he takes, the more transparent he grows about how much he dislikes it.
Yoongi isn’t as bad as him when it comes to his tolerance, but he’s a little tipsy himself. Enough so to openly smile when Jeongguk cringes at his next sip. “Which is worse, this or espresso?”
Jeongguk thinks for a minute, index finger resting on his chin. The tip is almost as red as his face, and Yoongi only forces his gaze away when he absently slides it between his lips. “At least this gets me drunk,” he finally replies, “Though I’m still gonna give it a three out of ten.”
He hums, “And espresso?”
“Two point seven five.”
“Brat,” Yoongi teases, though he’s not as open to the idea of reaching out to shove Jeongguk like he probably deserves. He wants to play around like they used to, but he doesn’t trust himself anymore. Doesn’t want himself to get carried away. “Try and let it sit for a second so you can enjoy the notes of cinnamon and orange. You’re not really supposed to slug this stuff down-”
Jeongguk cuts him off with a burp. One he’s seemingly very proud of judging by the grin on his face.
“Nice. Real classy.”
“Comes with money,” Jeongguk flips his imaginary ponytail over his shoulder, “Don’t expect you to understand.”
He wants Yoongi to lunge at him, the devil on his shoulder tells him. He’s seen him do something of the sort to Seokjin, provoke him so the younger's given the excuse to wrestle him down. Jeongguk can get aggressive. It hurts when his fingers dig into muscle and he’s heavy on top of just about anyone these days and Yoongi wishes the idea didn’t haunt him on a daily basis, but it does.
Young really likes the idea of Jeongguk pinning his wrists over his head and panting into the crook of his neck. Who could blame him. It makes him want so badly to take the bait, but he knows his body won’t be able to handle it, that he’ll do something stupid. So he resists, rolling his eyes. “Say that to my antique lamp collection on the way out.”
“I hate that you profile like an old Scottish man,” Jeongguk shakes his head “Scotch, antiques.”
Yoongi’s pretty damn sure the kid knows next to nothing about Scotland, so he settles on, “You love me anyways, Ggukkie, don’t you?” He likes the reassurance, even if it’s not the right kind. Especially when he’s drunk and he’s able to shed a layer of his armour.
“Yeah,” he looks down at his Scotch, swirls it around in it’s glass, “L-luckily, you’re just my type.”
They both freeze the second it leaves his mouth, Jeongguk unable to believe what he’s said and Yoongi what he’s heard. Their eyes meet, only for a second to gauge the other’s reaction before looking away.
Yoongi wants to try and play it off to himself as a joke as not to let his mind wander, but Jeongguk had been so nervous when he’d said it. And he’d paused, too. It was clearly premeditated, right?
The room’s been silent too long for them not to have descended into awkward silence. The next thing Yoongi hears is a slurp and looks up to see that Jeongguk has gulped down the last of his serving. He looks like he’s dying, his eyes rolling back into his head as he clenches his jaw in what looks to the elder like agony.
He doesn’t bother asking if he’s okay, knows he isn’t, so he just laughs, taking the hit and leaning forward to squeeze his shoulder. Fortunately, Jeongguk seems to have frazzled himself out of taking anymore chances tonight, offering Yoongi no more than a pained smile.
He doesn’t think about it until the next day at dance practice.
He’d been a little too out of it by the time Jeongguk’d left for the night, having treated the younger to a second glass of liquor. He knows that rewarding him for making such comments, however poorly executed they are, is only enabling an inevitable onslaught of torture, but he’d liked the way his heart had stopped for a fraction of a second.
Now that he’s watching him dance, however, it’s like nothing happened. Jeongguk looks confident as always, a little cocky, even, as he watches himself in the mirror. Yoongi doesn’t blame him. His body responds in a fraction of a second. He’s always on beat and his rhythm is impeccable. This is where Jeongguk shines. Not in social situations, not at school or on duolingo where he struggles to teach himself English, but here. When he’s dancing and singing his heart out and Yoongi’s able to admire him for the demigod he is.
It’s strange to think this is the same boy who hadn’t been able to look him in the eye after a tacky one liner not fifteen hours prior, especially when his gaze is so focused and his body language as open as it is. But Yoongi loves both sides of Jeongguk, could write a book on what it is about each that catches his eye.
Had he meant what he’d said last night? His gut tells him yes, but for some reason, he has a hard time accepting it. Maybe his two years of constant denial have made it difficult to process, even when it’s painfully clear what exactly his intentions were.
Aren’t things easier this way, though? If his brain is able to blot out any signs of the younger being interested?
It’s always possible that he’s reading too far into it, he reminds himself. Not only had they been drinking, but Jeongguk’s older now, probably feels inexperienced for his age. He’s never asked, but he’d seemed too shy as when he’d joined at fifteen to have been making moves on anyone in Busan, and it’s not like any of them are allowed to get around in their line of work. He was probably just putting out feelers, wanted to see what it was like to flirt.
Yoongi is uncomfortable with how taken he is by the idea.
They don’t hang out for a couple days. Yoongi wouldn’t bother reading into it weren’t it for their mildly awkward drinking session and he can’t help but wonder if it’d chased Jeongguk away. The younger doesn’t scare easily when it comes to things like horror movies, but feelings? Especially humiliation?
Jeongguk can’t handle it. Which is why no one in the band had seen him naked for months after he joined. He’d waited for everyone else to nod off first before sneaking out of his bunk bed in the direction of the showers.
Yoongi had been the first one to catch him. It’d been a chilly October night and he’d woken with a start, probably the result of a nightmare, which he’d had often at that point in time. He remembers reaching out for his glass of water to realise it was empty, the revelation pushing him out of bed. He’d wondered vaguely why the hall lights were on as he made his way to the bathroom to fill it up, only recognising the sounds of the shower running once he reached the door.
He hadn’t thought much of it. He figured that Jin, Jimin or Joon had probably stayed late at the dance studio. It wasn’t uncommon. Jimin always has been the type to overwork himself and at the time, the elder two couldn’t dance on beat if their lives depended on it.
So he’d kicked the door open and sauntered in, only to hear a yelp coming from the glass cubicle, followed by the clatter of the body wash hitting the ground.
Admittedly, Yoongi hadn’t even thought to check who it was when he’d entered. His heart had still been beating a little too quick from his nightmare, but he was exhausted and wanted no more than to wet his throat before knocking back out.
The yelp, for obvious reasons, changed this. He’d whipped around, tap still running, to find himself face to face with a very terrified Jeongguk, who had only a loofa to cover his manhood.
“Jesus, kid,” he’d yawned, “It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing?”
“Don’t look at me, hyung, oh my god,” Jeongguk tried to spin around before realising that all that did was put his ass on full display.
“Jeonggukie, relax,” he’d refocused his attention back on the sink, “I didn’t see anything. It’s okay if I did, we’re bandmates, I’m not going to judge you.”
Jeongguk had gone silent for a second too long, prompting the other to try and face him once more, but he’d snapped, “Stop! I’m almost done, can you just give me a minute in here?”
What was Yoongi to do but shrug in defeat? “I just needed a glass of water, but alright.”
He’d almost reached the door when Jeongguk calls, “Hey, hyung?”
“It’s… you can get your water, if you need.”
“I can come back when you’re done. It’s fine,” he hadn’t turned around. Figured that Jeongguk must have had a reason for not wanting to be seen naked and though Yoongi hadn’t really gotten why, he knew he needed to respect it.
“No,” he’d sounded a little more confident this time, “It’s just… I’m embarrassed. It’s not even that big of a deal and I need to get over it, right?”
“If you want,” admittedly, Yoongi hadn’t really cared too much about the situation at the time. He’d liked Jeongguk, but no more than anyone else in the band and besides, they’d had vocal practice early the next morning and he’d needed his rest, “If you don’t like being naked in front of other people, that’s a you thing. No skin off my back.”
“But I want to try,” he’d barely caught it, but it was enough for him to head back to the sink and finally fill his cup.
On his way out, Jeongguk had muttered, “Thanks, Suga hyung.”
The elder had nodded in acknowledgement, though he hadn’t been at all sure why it’d been needed.
They’ve always been just the slightest bit awkward. Nothing detrimental, but they’re both the type to wear their hearts on their sleeves yet lack the simple ability to process their feelings. Somehow, it works. A lot goes unsaid, but he’s confident that Jeongguk gets it and he appreciates how easy it sometimes feels.
It doesn’t feel too easy when Jeongguk hops in the shower with him on Wednesday night.
It’s not unusual for the seven of them to have to do this, share a shower. But usually, it’s early in the morning when they have to rush to some event and no one can be asked to wake up before the others. No one has the energy to speak past asking for the shampoo and there are certainly no glances exchanged.
There’s no reason to be sharing tonight.
Dance practice hadn’t been especially taxing, meaning that there’s no way an energetic as ever Jeongguk is too tired to wait, nor is he covered in sweat, leaving Yoongi to freeze in confusion when the shower door creaks behind him and someone steps in.
He gives the younger a rather skeptical look. They haven’t had a long conversation since the other night, and Yoongi would assume that if anything, Jeongguk should be trying to make things less awkward. A bit more casual, if you will.
This isn’t casual. Or maybe it is in Jeongguk’s mind, but Yoongi had been planning on jerking off, so the idea of someone joining him isn’t exactly welcomed. Especially if it’s Jeongguk, because yes, fine. Yoongi’s a little ashamed of what he’s about to do. What he was about to do, apparently, because jerking off to Jeongguk with Jeongguk right next to him probably isn’t the best course of action.
“Hey, hyung,” his voice is cheery, but he won’t look him in the eyes, reaching around for one of their many bars of soap, “Mind if I join?”
“Guess not,” Yoongi replies, regardless of how uncomfortable things suddenly are. He can’t look at Jeongguk for very obvious reasons and Jeongguk won’t look at him, something that proves difficult considering they’re locked in a tiny glass cubicle.
He isn’t sure if Jeongguk wants him to talk, or what. He sure is taking his sweet time under the water, pushing past him to rinse off. They’re facing each other because he’s paranoid he’s going to feel Jeongguk’s imaginary gaze on his ass if he turns around and the last thing he wants to do is give his brain a reason to get carried away.
“You good, hyung?” Jeongguk steps forward to lather up and Yoongi steps back.
He can’t think of anything useful to say, so he settles on, “Uh, yeah?”
“Don’t sound too confident,” he flashes him a shy grin before turning his eyes back down.
Yoongi shrugs, “Just kinda surprised is all.”
Jeongguk cocks a brow as if he has no idea why the air is so tense. Hell, maybe he really doesn’t, “Why’s that?”
“We usually don’t share the shower in the evenings.”
“Ah, yeah. I guess.”
He must be imagining the disappointment in his voice, right?
Out of the blue, Jeongguk says, “You were the first person to see me naked. Other than, like, my mom, I guess. And maybe my grandma and dad- well, you get it.”
“Excuse me?” he sputters.
Jeongguk rushes to explain himself, “I mean. Like, if you feel weird about being naked, or something. You shouldn’t be. It’s just me.”
“It’s not that,” he says rather unwisely.
Is Jeongguk closer, or is it just his imagination? “I, um. Guess I was just really deep in thought.”
“Oh, yeah? What were you thinking about?”
How is he supposed to tell him the thoughts weighing so heavily on his mind were of Jeongguk doing his sit-ups in his underwear? Yoongi has no idea why they can’t just shower in silence. He’d wanted to see more of Jeongguk this week, but not like this.
“Nothing important,” he waves him off, “Songs and stuff.”
“Still trying to come up with lyrics for those melodies?” somehow, Jeongguk has found it in himself to ease up a little. When Yoongi steals a glance at him, his shoulders have relaxed and his voice is steady as ever.
He cannot say the same for himself, “Yeah, something like that.”
“You should let me take a look sometime, hyung. I’m better now, with lyrics. Namjoonie hyung said the shit I wrote for Magic Shop showed a lot of improvement.”
“It really did,” he hums. He can come up with some beats for Jeongguk to work on, tell him he’s stuck on those, or something. Jeongguk’s always so eager to learn and improve. He’s almost aggressive, really, and Yoongi finds it attractive. Not that it’s completely selfish. He really does want to help Jeongguk, watch him grow. It fills him with pride. “Come down next time, just need a heads up.”
“Right, so you can stuff all the proof of you living in there in your cupboard.”
Yoongi laughs at this. It’s enough to lift a bit of the weight from his shoulders.
“Say,” Jeongguk begins, “Kinda came in here for a reason.”
The elder is back to square one. Getting in the shower for what seems to be no more than a chat is already bold for the younger, leaving him with no idea what to expect. “And what would that be?”
“I think I pulled a muscle in my shoulder, so I’ve had a hard time reaching my back, like, to wash it and stuff. I kinda need help.”
“Help with what?” he asks a little too quickly.
Which Jeongguk seems to notice judging by the way his nostrils flare, “Just making sure my back is all washed off, nothing too strenuous. I don’t want to break out, is all.”
Stupid, Yoongi thinks to himself. Of course he had a practical reason for coming in here. It’s not to flirt with him or do whatever it is Yoongi’s mind is trying to wrongly convince he’s doing. This is normal. He’s made sure over the years of knowing him that Jeongguk is aware that he’s always here to help. That whole thing about him being the first person to see him naked must somehow be linked to why it’s Yoongi that he’s chosen to shower with.
“Oh,” he realises he’s forgotten to reply, eyes fixed on the shoulder he’s supposedly pulled. He’d been watching him all day, and he’d said nothing about it. Hadn’t seen it happen, hadn’t seen Jeongguk wince or complain about it once during practice or on the way home. It’s possible that he’d just put on a tough face during the day, but their choreo has some pretty intense steps that Yoongi doesn’t doubt would have strained the injury enough to elicit some sort of reaction. If there really was one.
But why wouldn’t there be? A part of Yoongi may want Jeongguk to want him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he does, now does it? What insective would the maknae have to lie? If he wanted Yoongi’s attention that badly, wouldn’t there be a more conventional way to seek it?
Yoongi shakes his head, “I mean of course I’ll help, hand me the soap.”
As Yoongi’s fingers find their way to his muscled back, his skin begins to prickle. It could always be a result of the soap he’s neglected to wash from his body, but if that were the case, why is he simultaneously plagued with butterflies?
He seems to get bigger every day. Not only is he still growing in height, but he works out at every chance he gets and it’s starting to show. Jeongguk’s always had amazing proportions and an athletic body, but he’s bulking up, and though Yoongi usually tries to ignore it, the fact that he’s got his hands all over his naked body is making it difficult.
No. He can’t be doing this. It’s malicious of him to be having such thoughts when Jeongguk wanted no more than a helping hand. Besides, if he pops that boner he’d barely been able to will away not five minutes prior, it’ll make things awkward when he turns back around.
This must be how Jeongguk felt when Yoongi’d walked in on him that first time, he thinks. He’s never really been uncomfortable in his own skin, doesn’t necessarily love the way he looks, but he accepts himself. Most of the time, at least.
But not now. No, now he feels insecure, exposed and just the tiniest bit scared and he can’t put a finger on why. He isn’t jealous of the way Jeongguk now looks, if anything, he likes to admire-
“Would you mind massaging it a little bit?” Jeongguk asks.
Yoongi’s eyes snap up to meet the back of his head. The younger’s voice has thickened and the tone of it has his heart speeding, “Massage what?”
“I-I mean, like, my shoulder. You know, because of the muscle and stuff.”
Jeongguk is definitely lying. There isn’t a question in Yoongi’s mind not only because he’s the one who taught him to lie, but because he’s still terrible at it. He always spaces his words awkwardly and wrings his hands. Yoongi looks to his arms, bent at the elbows and though he can’t exactly demand to see without giving himself away, it’s fairly clear what he’s doing.
What does Jeongguk want from him?
He’s got a pretty strong inkling, but he doesn’t want to accept it. Because he isn’t sure that if and when he does, he’ll be able to control himself.
“Sure thing, kid,” he replies, “Which shoulder?”
“The left one?”
It sounds like a question and Yoongi closes his eyes in silent defeat. Usually, he’d call Jeongguk out on his bullshit, but he isn’t exactly ready to hear what it is he really wants to say. “Alright, tell me if it’s too rough, okay?”
He hums, which turns into a groan when Yoongi’s thumb digs into his flesh. It’s lewd. Or maybe it isn’t and he’s just humiliatingly thirsty, but he can’t help the way his cock jumps at the noise. This can’t happen, much less at 7pm on a night where everyone is home and milling about the house. If he gets hard and someone strolls in for a piss like he doesn’t doubt they might, they’ll certainly see it. And even though they all know how strongly the elder feels for him, it’s humiliating. Pathetic that he can’t control himself, even while doing something so simple.
He tries not to think about the way the muscles ripple under his touch, how firm they are, instead opting to make conversation in hopes to distract himself, “You still got that knot near your neck, kid.”
Jeongguk shakes his head. “Ugh, I know, it’s just…,” he seems to be having just as difficult of a time keeping his head straight. Yoongi can only hope it’s a result of his mid-tier massage. “You know, with all the schedules and shit, hard to find the time to get it… you know. Fixed.”
Yoongi does know. Still, “You could take a day or two off the gym, you muscle pig.”
“I know you like it.”
There’s a hint of humour in his voice, which would lead Yoongi to believe it was no more than a harmless joke weren’t it for the look in his eyes. He’s twisted his head over his shoulder to grin at him with just the slightest hint of sheepishness in his eyes and it’s so Jeongguk that Yoongi can’t find it in himself to look away.
He can’t think of anything to reply with. Doesn’t think he could tease back if he tried. It’s hard enough to keep his voice stable, much less add any emotion that isn’t panicked, but he can’t just brush it off, because he’ll know he’s lying. Yoongi is absolutely smitten.
Jeongguk spins to face him, smile only growing, “I think we’re good,” he says. Then, his eyes focus on the drying suds on Yoongi’s chest, “Hey, have you been covered in soap this entire time?”
Yoongi looks down, pretending like his skin isn’t on fire, “Huh, guess I have.”
Jeongguk giggles and reaches for his hand to pull him under the water. He mutters a remorseless, “Whoops,” when Yoongi crashes into him, but instead of helping him straighten up, he pulls him flush against his chest.
If it weren’t for how strong he’s grown, he’d try to fight his way out of his grip. He can’t, however, so he instead wraps his arms around Jeongguk’s waist. He’s well aware that if this carries on, he’s going to get hard, but it isn’t like he has a whole lot of other choices. Asking Jeongguk to let him go would probably hurt his feelings, he tries to tell himself, although he’s well aware that it’s his own selfishness that’s lead him to give in.
“Thanks hyung,” Jeongguk hums, “For helping me out, I really appreciate it.”
Yoongi has half a mind to tell him that, though he appreciates the affection, washing his back off is no excuse to hug someone so tight. That being said, the water is pleasantly warm and he can feel Jeongguk’s voice reverberating through his chest. Min Yoongi is a weak, weak man, so he says, “Anytime, Gguk. Let me know if you need help with anything else, yeah?”
Jeongguk’s hand runs down his side, slick with soap and the elder does he best to hold back a whimper. It works, but unfortunately, he has no control over the way his cock twitches in response.
Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, though. His cheeks flush a deeper red than they already are and he takes a step back, opening his mouth as if he’s about to say something before leaning in to press a surprisingly chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he’s gone, “TaeTae wanted to watch a movie with me tonight, The Conjuring or something, so I gotta go. But thanks again, hyung!”
“Yeah,” he chokes, not bothering to do any more than raise a hand in farewell, following which he sinks down onto the cold tile, letting the remnants of shampoo wash from his hair.
Jeongguk likes him. He has to.
Yoongi’s not sure how much time he spends on the shower floor, but eventually the water begins to run cold and Jimin enters.
“Oh, hey, hyung. What-”
“Not now, Jimin.”
“Right,” he spins on his heel, “I’ll go use the other bathroom.”
Naturally, the next thing he receives from Jeongguk is a text. He expects this, especially considering how uncharacteristically bold he’d been. He’s much too shy to keep it up for an extended period of time.
Yoongi tries not to run to his phone when he hears the younger’s ringtone. Partially because he isn’t handling Jeongguk’s sudden change in demeanor all too well, but mostly because he’s convinced that he’s texting him to apologise for what’d happened in the shower.
From Ggukkie: hey hyung
To Ggukkie: Hey
From Ggukkie: listen i need to talk to u abt smth
Yoongi gulps. Here it comes, Jeongguk telling him he’d made a mistake and that they should both forget all about it. That whatever it is that Yoongi had sworn he’d felt between them was no more than a misunderstanding.
To Ggukkie: Sure, are you home?
From Ggukkie : yeah haha but like i feel like its easier we do it like this
To Ggukkie: Is something wrong?
From Ggukkie: not rlly its just kinda weird to say out loud for me smtimes u kno ??
If he weren’t texting back as unnaturally quick as he is, Yoongi would rush to try and find Namjoon or someone for help. He isn’t sure what to think, still can’t discern whether or not the news he’s about to deliver is going to be negative, and it’s driving him crazy. He wants to tell Jeongguk to hurry up and get to the point, but he doesn’t want to sound rude, especially if he’s about to confess. Which he won’t, he reminds himself, Jeongguk can’t like him. This isn’t going to happen.
To Ggukkie: Yeah, I get it
His eyes glue themselves to the little grey bubble in the corner of his screen that tells him Jeongguk is typing. And typing, and typing, so it seems, because it takes an eternity of Yoongi sitting stock still in something that sort of resembles horror before he receives a single, two word text.
From Ggukkie: im gay
Yoongi blinks down at it for a minute because, no shit. Strange as it is, he’d never considered it a secret, thought everyone knew. But now that he thinks back, he supposes he can’t recall Jeongguk ever sitting anyone down to tell them. Unless, that is, he’s the only one that’s been out of the loop.
He receives another text, this one causing him shake his head in confusion.
From Ggukkie: lmao
To Ggukkie: Lmao???? What do you mean?
From Ggukkie: idk lol
To Ggukkie: I’m bad over text, can you just come to my room, please?
From Ggukkie: no snsjfhsjkh im too awkwardddddddddd
To Ggukkie: I’ve known you since you were in high school and I’m gay, too. It won’t be awkward. Trust me.
He doesn’t get a reply, but he does hear a soft knock on his door seconds later.
Jeongguk creaks it open and peers in, eyes wide with anxiety. They meet Yoongi’s for no more than a second before filtering to a pair of slippers on the ground.
He slides off his bed to his feet, but doesn’t make any move to get closer, “Jeongguk. Shut the door behind you, come in.”
Where Jeongguk looked larger than life in the shower, he's tiny now, shoulders hunched and gaze trained on his feet as he makes his way over.
“Hey, what’s the big fuss, kid? I love you no matter what, you know that, right? Just wanted to give my favourite dongsaeng a little support.”
“This is so awkward,” Jeongguk says again when he finally reaches Yoongi, who envelopes him in a hug. He smells like that strawberry peach Bath and Body Works body spray he likes to use and Yoongi lets himself drown in it.
“It’s not,” he says into his hoodie, “Not one bit, you’re just imagining things.”
“I swear,” he makes a step to move back but the kid only pulls him tighter against him.
He gives in. Jeongguk is the best kind of warm, soft in all the right places and his arms fit so perfectly around Yoongi. Even if he didn’t love him, he wouldn’t be able to resist.
“You’re the first person I told,” he says, “Cause… cause I-,” he shakes his head.
Is he going to confess?
Nope, “Cause you’re gay, too.”
It’s a lie. Or it’s at least only half of the truth, which hangs unsaid in the few millimeters of space between them. He wishes they weren’t celebrities, or that it was okay to be together because if it was, Yoongi would take the hit and urge it out of him. Tell him that he’s been infatuated with him for what feels like an eternity and that it’s okay. That Jeongguk can come clean.
He won’t, though. He’ll just watch him struggle, helpless as ever, to cope with what seems an awful lot like budding feelings.
Jeongguk seems a lot more lighthearted after coming out to Yoongi. He laughs louder, looks him in the eye when he smiles and much to the elder’s demise, grows bolder in his poorly executed endeavours to capture Yoongi’s heart.
If only he knew he didn’t have to try.
It’s been a solid five days of poorly executed winks, awkward one liners and ‘accidental’ brushing. Yoongi tells himself that it’s because Jeongguk is more comfortable now that they share something the other members don’t, but his efforts to gaslight himself are useless.
He isn’t sure why he’s even trying anymore. The restraint he thought he had is slipping like sand from his fingers and Jeongguk hasn’t even made a solid move yet. Or maybe he has and Yoongi’s just too used to denying it.
He’s hunched over the stove making himself seafood ramyeon when Jeongguk presses himself up against his back, hands gripping the counter to trap him in. No different to how he’s been acting all week, Yoongi is pliant, letting Jeongguk knock the air from his lungs as he props his chin on his shoulder, “Good evening, hyungnim.”
He’s deepened his voice for reasons unknown and it’s enough to elicit a giggle out of Yoongi, who twists his head to meet his eyes. He’s too close for it not to be risky, of this he’s painfully aware, but he can’t really bring himself to stress. Not right now. No, that’s for later when he’s laying in the dark, wondering why on earth he can’t keep it together.
The giggle turns into a laugh when his eyes set on Jeongguk’s fake mustache and goatee.
“Like it?” the younger leans in until they're close enough to share the same breath, “I’m channeling Cha Seung Won.”
At this, Yoongi sputters, heat rushing to his cheeks. He tries his best to hide it by turning back to his dinner, but Jeongguk’s hand finds his cheek, guiding it back towards him as a reminder of just how strong he is. How firm his grip.
“Where are you running off to, huh?” his words are bold, but as always, his voice shakes. Yoongi respects the effort. “I want your take on it. Think it suits me?”
This is a trap. Yoongi hadn’t been able to shut up about how hot Cha Seung Won’d been for years. He’d been his ultimate celebrity crush, something Jeongguk is painfully aware of considering the amount of drunken rants he’s gone on about his moustache.
He hasn’t thought about him in a while, however. He thinks back briefly, realising that, naturally, it’s been roughly two years. Jeongguk’s replaced him as his celebrity crush, hasn’t he? I mean, the kid is technically a celebrity, right? Is that how it works?
“Oh, come on, hyung,” Jeongguk is starting to sound nervous, like he thinks he’s somehow pissed the elder off.
So he finally blurts, “Top tier. Ten out of ten.”
Jeongguk gleams at him, hand finding its way to his waist for just a second before he seemingly deems it too bold (though after what happened in the shower, Yoongi isn’t sure why it even matters), “Anyways, I had a proposal.”
“A proposal,” he echos. Jeongguk's grip on him has loosened, but he hasn't let go.
“Movie night,” he says, “You usually stay late in the studio on Thursdays, right?”
He hums, “That I do.”
“Gonna do it again this week?”
In all honesty, he was planning on taking the week off. In light of the escalation of his and Jeongguk’s situation, he’s found himself churning out page upon page of lovesick lyrics, some even mentioning his name.
He feels in over his head, needs some space, but if Jeongguk wants to visit tomorrow the way he sounds like he might…
Well, Yoongi is a weak man.
“Believe it or not, I am.”
“In that case- oh fuck, hyung, your dinner’s boiling over.”
Once the kitchen counter is wiped clean, Jeongguk continues, “Right, as I was saying, I thought maybe I could come down around dinnertime and we could eat and watch a movie on the couch.”
Yoongi acts like he hasn’t been sold on the idea from the second Jeongguk mentioned it, “Depends on which movie.”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Hm. Alright, why not?”
“Cool,” Jeongguk sounds just the slightest bit out of breath when he steps away, “Tomorrow at nine. Wait for me, no working when I’m there, alright?”
He knows what the nervous look on Jeongguk’s face means before it happens. He leans in, lips just grazing his cheek, “Can’t wait, hyung.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi rasps, “Me either.”
As the youngest all but skips out of the kitchen, Seokjin strolls in, “Yo, did you see Jeongguk’s fake moustache? Looks kinda good right?”
“I’m in hell.”
It automatically clicks in the other’s mind and he sniggers, “Have fun with your raging boner, Yoon.”
He wants to tell one of the other members what’s going on, but Jeongguk had mentioned only being out to him. Yoongi can’t out him, nor can he speak to any of his friends outside the band without outing himself.
Which leaves him stranded in the studio. Finally, he’s run out of lyrics to write, so he’s left to tweak and edit them over and over again until they sound less like they’re about Jeongguk. Though it isn’t like he’s going to be able to show this to Bang PD, PDogg or Slow Rabbit, anyways. Because they’ll know. Yoongi’s well aware that he wears his heart on his sleeve and these lyrics will only confirm what they likely suspect. Maybe he can try and sell them anonymously? Get a couple bucks out of them?
But these songs are about Jeongguk from his point of view, hearing the words come out of anyone else’s mouth would be wrong.
He knows it’s obsessive, the way he’s working, but he has no other outlet. He’s tried journaling before, but he sucks at putting his feelings into paragraphs instead of stanzas. It’s a little too personal, makes him have to think directly about the nature of his feelings instead of just pouring them out and piecing together what his brain is trying to tell him later on.
So here he is.
He isn’t sure why’d he’d even considered taking a day off. He’d woken up itching to work, had barely made it through dance practice without scribbling new ideas down in his notes and once they’d finally been done with that, he’d rushed up to his studio.
His brain won’t fucking quit, and it’s getting annoying.
Apparently, it’s also getting him in trouble because before he knows it, it’s nine o’clock and Jeongguk is tapping the passcode into the studio door and padding in. Which would be fine weren’t it for the fact that he’s wearing his bulky, sound cancelling headphones, leaving him without an opportunity to save and store his work before the younger sees it.
Much to his luck, he’s right in the middle of the one song he can’t bring himself to cut his name out of when the headphones are snatched off his head and ripped from the socket.
He whips around to see Jeongguk, who grins, “Did you finally get write lyrics to that song you were talking about? Can I see?”
He wants to spill his cup of coffee all over the keyboard, or at least make some excuse along the lines of it not being ready yet, but he’s frozen. A masochistic part of him wants for Jeongguk to know how much he loves him. He’s getting sick of awkwardly tip toeing around it and while preparing a confession scares the living shit out of him, now that the opportunity has fallen into his lap…
Maybe it’s meant to be.
He doesn’t say anything as Jeongguk starts the song from the beginning, one hand on his shoulder as he hunches to see the screen. Too nervous to look away, he keeps his eyes trained on him for his reaction. He wants to hurry up and get this over with, read Jeongguk’s reaction the second he hears his name so he can either kick him out or… what?
He’ll deal with that when the time comes, he decides, though in the back of his mind, he already has a feeling what he’s going to do.
“Good beat,” the younger hums, bopping his head along to the rhythm. It’s almost funny, how clueless he is to the fact that in mere seconds, this game they’ve been playing for god knows how long will come to an end. Realising that Yoongi is sitting stock still with his eyes wide as dinner plates, he pauses it, “Uh. Is this not okay?”
Should Yoongi pussy out? No, he resolves, enough is enough. “No, uh. Go ahead.”
He plays it again, this time with a concentrated expression on his face.
Yoongi’s stomach drops when it hits the chorus.
Well, I want you
Ggukkie, it's all I do
Come to meet you
Baby, it's all I do
Oh my lovely
Ggukkie, you're all I see
Let's get ready, maybe I might be
Jeongguk’s jaw drops just the slightest and his eye twitches, but he doesn’t hit pause. Yoongi wonders if he’s frozen, too.
Well, you know, I've never really done this
Well, I know you really haven't either – so what?
It feels obvious that it’s about them, even if it weren’t for the repetitive name dropping, and Yoongi is left to wonder how the night would have panned out if he’d been ready for his arrival. If Jeongguk would have insisted on feeding him snacks, or tried to stealthily throw an arm around him. How long they would have kept running in circles before they burned out.
It’s not a long song, only about three minutes, though it feels to the elder like an eternity. When it finally ends, Jeongguk pauses for a moment, eyes still glued to the screen, as if he’s waiting for more, or for Yoongi to tell him this entire thing is some sick joke.
Which he can’t do. So, he clears his throat, “Anyways...”
“Anyways?” Jeongguk hisses, “ Anyways , hyung? Is that all you have to say?”
When he looks to Jeongguk, there are tears in his eyes.
Yoongi clenches his jaw, he owes him this, doesn’t he? The younger’s been trying his best, however inexperienced and obviously uncomfortable he is with flirting and what has Yoongi been doing? Ignoring him? Subjecting him to all these subtle rejections and mixed signals? It’s not fair. If Jeongguk can put in the work, so can he.
“I love you. I have for around three years now and I keep trying to push it back because I felt like if my intentions weren’t pure, I’d be betraying your trust-”
“Do you have any idea,” he’s crying now, “How confused I was? Yoongi you are not slick, you’re not subtle and I just wanted to try to… to. I don’t know, do something? Why do you have to make this so hard?”
“Because this isn’t supposed to happen, we’re risking a lot even flirting with each other. I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he lies. Now that Jeongguk mentions it, he isn’t sure why he’s making it as hard as he is when all he wants to do is pull Jeongguk in. Isn’t sure why he’s forcing himself to sabotage this.
“You don’t even know what I want yet,” he straightens up and throws his hands in the air, “You’re knocking me down before we can even try.”
“Why are you yelling?” Yoongi’s voice is trembling and he wishes he sounded stronger but Jeongguk’s got a crazed look in his eyes and he’s towering over him in a way that’s backed the elder into submission.
“Because we clearly want to be together and we aren’t and I’m frustrated! Don’t you see how… how useless all of this is?” he motions to the food, then to Yoongi’s desktop, still open to the audiofile.
“It’s not useless, though,” Yoongi replies, “It’s… I appreciate it, everything you’ve done, I just-”
He rubs a hand down his face, “Why are you being so difficult?”
“I don’t know,” he says in a small voice.
“You’ve never had any qualms with breaking the rules. You’re the one that used to sneak us food on our diets, shoplift us snacks when we couldn’t afford anything other than that stupid fucking chicken. Yoongi, I don’t understand what’s holding you back.”
The elder doesn’t know what to say.
“Do you want me to leave?” Jeongguk finally asks, “Should we just pretend like this never happened? I’ll stop trying and you can go back to writing your stupid fucking songs that you’re clearly never gonna do anything with. Is that what you want? Are you happy like this?”
He’s never seen Jeongguk this angry. Usually, he shuts himself away when something pisses him off, though even that is uncommon and he now understands why. It’s intimidating, especially when directed at him.
“I’m sorry,” he says aimlessly. Because no matter unbothered he tries to act, he can’t stand fighting, especially with people he cares about.
Jeongguk pinches the bridge of his nose, “You haven’t answer a single question I asked, hyung.”
“I. I mean. I’m not happy. It sucks, but we have too much to lose and I can’t do that to you, kid-”
“I’m not a kid. Stop treating me like one.”
“Fine,” Yoongi tries to soothe, though by this point, he’s no less agitated than the younger, “I’ve shut this away for a really long time. And I was planning on saying something if I still felt like this after we all enlisted. But right now, I’m scared.”
“I want you so badly, I don’t know what to do with myself. That’s why I came out to you, I thought maybe,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know. I should leave, shouldn’t I?”
Yoongi just stares up at him. Once Jeongguk shuts that door behind him, everything is ruined. Hell, everything already is ruined and if Yoongi thinks rejecting him is going to make things any better in the long term, he’s sadly mistaken. Their relationship is going to be different now, whether he likes it or not.
Might as well make the best of it, right?
“Hey, no,” Jeongguk’s taken his silence as an answer and is already making his way towards the door, “Ggukkie, just wait, okay?”
“What?” he snaps.
“I can’t do this anymore. You’re right, this is stupid, this whole thing.”
Slowly, as if he doesn’t trust his ears, he turns around, “What are you saying?”
“We might as well give it a shot, right? Hope for the best?”
“You don’t sound terribly optimistic,” Jeongguk says, but his voice has softened and he’s nearly smiling.
“Happens after three years of telling yourself it’s never going to happen.”
It’s awkward again, as if neither of them knows what to do.
“So,” Jeongguk starts, “Does this mean I can finally kiss you?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi whispers. And for a moment, Jeongguk doesn’t move, making him wonder if he’s even heard him.
Before he can repeat himself, however, he’s on him, pulling him out of the chair and pushing him against the wall. He’s hungry, pissed off and desperate, his fingers digging into his back hard enough to hurt.
It’s not sweet like he’d hoped their first kiss would be, but it he knows he’s brought this upon himself. Not that he really minds it. It’s all teeth and tongue and drool and he’d be a fool not to love it. The way it hurts, the desire with which Jeongguk is licking into his mouth, pulling away every minute or two as if to make sure it’s really him, that it’s actually happening. There’s something about the look in his eyes when he does it, the way his satisfied smirk grows each time he reassures himself that it isn’t a dream.
He isn’t sure when exactly he’d coaxed his mouth open, or when his hands found his ass, but it isn’t like he has any complaints. Jeongguk smells good, he tastes good, feels good, sounds good as he pants into him. He’s surrounded by the younger in the best way possible and for the first time, he feels not an ounce of guilt.
It’s liberating, allowing himself to kiss back just as hard, slide his hands up his shirt to grope at his abs and pecs. His breath hitches everytime he brushes his nipples and the way he tenses under his touch is so addicting that he can’t help but harden in his pants.
Neither can Jeongguk, apparently, who moves his face to his neck with a winded laugh when his hips kick into Yoongi’s.
He ignores it, instead pressing the younger’s head down harder to urge him to suck and bite at his nape. He doesn’t care if he has to wear a turtleneck despite the balmy weather because his teeth feel heavenly in his flesh and the idea of being marked by Jeongguk is validating beyond compare. Makes things feel real.
He thinks back to the shower, when he’d been scared of popping a boner and out of spite of his former self, grinds forward.
“I want it,” Jeongguk says into his neck. And what is Yoongi to do but groan and push further into him, “Hyung, are you listening?”
“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
He steps back, restraint clear in his eyes, “Are you sure? I know it’s impulsive-”
It is, and it’s unlike Yoongi, but the fact that Jeongguk knows that makes it so much better. He trusts him, and besides, “I’ve been thinking about this every single god fucking day for years, Jeongguk, so it’s really not.”
“Good. Yeah, awesome,” he falters.
“I’ve never done this, or anything-”
“Neither have I, it’s okay,” he insists, grabbing out for his hand and tugging them towards the couch.
“I swear, Ggukkie, it’s fine,” he wants to be a good hyung, but it’s so hard now that he’s finally allowed himself to let go, “Do you know if you want to top or bottom? I like both, it’s up to you.”
“Top,” he blurts, “I mean, I’d rather top.”
“Okay. Easy, we can do this.”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk kisses him again, a little softer this time, “I love you, too, hyung, by the way. Not sure if I said that yet.”
“It’s okay, Gguk. Don’t mind, love you so much,” he says again. He isn’t sure either, the night’s been a blur since Jeongguk burst in and right now, all he wants is to get on with it, feel him inside after what feels like a lifetime. He keeps Jeongguk’s hand clasped in his as he rummages through his drawers for his lube, something the younger laughs at when it’s finally retrieved.
All that kissing seems to have drained him of any negativity and now he’s grinning, looks relaxed considering what they’re about to do.
“Why do you keep that shit here?”
“Like I said,” Yoongi turns it over in his hand, can’t believe what he’s about to say, “I’ve been thinking about this for the past two years.”
“Shit,” Jeongguk sighs, pulling him against his front and reaching around to undress him.
Yoongi’s overwhelmed, to say the least, can’t believe it’s Jeongguk’s shaking hands that are fumbling with the waistband of his boxers. He can feel his cock twitch against the small of his back when he pulls them down and off and wraps his hand around him. He’s embarrassingly hard, reddened tip welling with precum that Jeongguk thumbs over.
“How should we do this?” he asks, lips pressed into the bruise on his neck.
“I-I don’t know,” Yoongi stutters, “But if you keep touching me, I think I’ll cum.”
“It’s only been five seconds.”
“Like you could last any longer,” he retorts, “We’re both virgins, here, Gguk.”
“I guess.” Then, “I need to finger you right?”
“Technically, yeah. But I think I have an idea,” it’s not exactly like it’s uncomfortable, but Yoongi’s been through a lot tonight and his mind’s having a hard time focusing. It doesn’t feel romantic the way he’d hoped, but neither had their confessions or their first kiss. So, he just shrugs it off and leans back into Jeongguk, hands sliding his shirt up to get it off.
He gulps at the sight. Because though he’s seen him naked more times than he can count, he’s never let himself ogle, at least not openly. And besides, it’s different knowing that he’s the reason Jeongguk’s chest is heaving.
He pecks him on the lips once more before trailing his own down his neck to his chest, stopping to bite at his hardened nipples. He groans and bucks into him, eliciting a pleased hum from Yoongi. He’s always been terribly sensitive, but the elder thinks he likes it, the over the top reaction.
He takes his time as he moves down, more self indulgent than anything, to lick across the crevice of his abs. He’s so firm under his touch, strong, but easy to control at the same time and it’s this contradiction that leads Yoongi to mutter, “Fuck it,” under his breath and finally drop to his knees.
His cock slaps back against his stomach when he pulls his sweats off, the younger falling back onto the couch in his hurry to get undressed. He tries to get up but Yoongi stops him with a hand on his thigh. He bites his lip at the way it strains under his touch, like he’s trying to hold himself back from reaching out to grab him.
Admittedly, he’d always wanted to younger to throw him around. Use his strength to manhandle him into submission, but Jeongguk is so obedient regardless of how difficult for him it clearly is and Yoongi thinks he might like this better.
“Can you hand me the lube?”
For a moment, Jeongguk does no more than stare before snapping out of it and passing it to him with an unsteady hand. After doing this alone in his studio for years, it feels strange to be watched so intently by someone else, so he averts his eyes.
“Hey, hyung?” Jeongguk starts, just as his finger finger slips in.
“Yeah?” it’s a little hard to keep his voice steady, especially considering the stretch. He usually isn’t too bad at handling prep, but he’s felt a little guilty fingering himself in light of the past week or two’s happenings.
“I didn’t mean it when I said I thought your song was dumb,” his eyes flicker to Yoongi’s ass and he gulps, “I r-really liked it, I wanna hear it again, when it’s finished.”
It’s endearing, the way his blush has travelled down to his neck to his chest. It’s bad timing, but Yoongi appreciates the effort, “You were just frustrated, baby, it’s okay. We’re okay, right?”
He’s thought about calling Jeongguk baby a lot. Hell, he probably has once or twice. Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok do it all the time, he’d just felt that it’d ring a little true coming from him, that it’d be obvious that he didn’t mean it in the same way.
But when Jeongguk brings up the song, he’s reminded that it’s all different now. That he’s all his and that there’s no point in not being honest about the way he feels.
Luckily, he seems to like it, covering his smile with his hand and sputtering, “Hyung?”
Yoongi plays it off, or tries to at least, “Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you again, please?”
He crawls into his lap, breath hitching in his throat when their cocks brush. Yoongi takes the opportunity to slide up, letting Jeongguk hold his head in place as he sucks his tongue into his mouth.
When he breaks away, his pupils are blown beyond compare and he’s muttering, “Can I fuck you now?”
“I need to try with another finger, baby.”
“H-hyung,” it’s cute to watch him fumble, “Hyung, you can’t keep calling me that!”
“What is it, baby? Don’t like it?”
“Like it too much,” he gulps, “A lot.”
Yoongi tries to slide off his lap, but he stops him, dull nails digging into his hips.
“Alright,” he mutters, extending his hand back to continue stretching himself open, this time adding a third finger, “I was gonna make you feel good, didn’t wanna keep you waiting.”
“I mean,” he looks down, “What were you gonna do?”
“Suck you off?”
He chokes, “Can I get a raincheck?”
“Of course,” Yoongi hums, reaching for Jeongguk’s dick. He’s nearly done fingering himself. The burn of the stretch is beginning to fade so he figures he might as well jerk him off, wants to see Jeongguk moan a little before he’s too out of it to appreciate it.
He moans, alright. He’s by no means a quiet person and it seems as though this applies in bed, too because the second the elder starts moving his wrist, Jeongguk is gone. He watches as his mouth drops open and he lets out a slew of rather lewd noises that have the elder thanking god that the studio is sound proofed.
His own eyes lose focus for a moment as he brushes his prostate and it seems the microexpression is enough for Jeongguk, “Y-Yoongi hyung?”
His voice has dropped to a whisper, “I think I’m g-gonna need a… a raincheck on the. Virginity. Thing.”
And then he’s cumming all over his hand with a hoarse, “ Hyungnim !”
Yoongi stops fingering himself to take the sight in. The furrow in his brow, how tightly his eyes have squeezed shut, not to mention the clear tension in his arms as he pulls Yoongi into him.
It takes a moment for his breathing to even out and his grip to loosen but when he does, he takes a pliant Yoongi by the shoulders and says, “Sorry, you looked really hot.”
Yoongi doesn’t know how to respond without looking like a jackass, so he says, “Did you really scream ‘hyungnim’ when you came?”
Jeongguk opens his mouth, but nothing comes out until he finally settles on, “I was nervous, alright?”
Then, he’s knocking Yoongi’s hand away to wrap his own around the elder’s cock.
“What are you doing?” he asks stupidly.
“You’re still hard.”
“Ah, right,” though he’s barely paying any attention anymore, slumping to suck a bruise into his pulsepoint, which still fluttering erratically under his touch.
It doesn’t take much for him to cum. Not when he’s been dreaming of the younger’s touch for years now. Jokingly, he moans, “Dongsaeng,” when he finishes, forcing a shaky chuckle out of the other.
Jeongguk doesn’t bother letting go of him once they’re done, but it’s not like Yoongi’s in any rush either, throwing both arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders and pulling him into a kiss.
“Can we just sleep here?” Jeongguk yawns when he pulls away, “We still have food and I kinda don’t want to back to a full house right now.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi nods into him, “Me either.”
“I can’t believe I wore a fake mustache to impress you,” Jeongguk giggles into his hair. Yoongi’s sat between his legs on his bed, arms fastened around his waist.
They’ve decided not to hide anything from the other members per say, but they aren’t ready to flaunt it. Though according to Jeongguk, they’ve all approached him about his (supposedly) obvious crush on Yoongi, he hasn’t confirmed much of anything to them, nor is he out of the closet, making it an inevitable drama that they know they’ll have to face. So, they’ve decided to handle it the way they did Yoongi’s confession, to just let it happen.
They haven’t been interrupted just yet. No one has burst into the bathroom while they’re hooking up during lunch break. Nor has anyone questioned why they’ve been unabashedly grinning at each other every chance they get when they’d been awkward not three days earlier.
Whatever, it’s only a matter of time. In Jeongguk’s opinion, they’ll probably be relieved they no longer have to listen to them uselessly pine.
So here they sit, watching some show that Yoongi doesn’t really care for. And usually, he wouldn’t be so accommodating, but it’s Jeongguk and right now, there’s not a single thing that can bring them down.
He’s broader than the maknae, but something about him makes Yoongi feel small. It’s probably the muscles. Now that he isn’t trying to repress his attraction any longer, it’s begun to spill out of him at a rate he can’t quite seem to stop. That being said, it’s nice to finally admit to himself that he’d sell his soul to watch Jeongguk work out (he’s been invited to accompany him to the gym, a solid win) or that, yes, of course his eyes look really pretty when he’s looking up at him while sucking his dick (the studio was defiled once more when they’d woken up after that first night).
It’s even nicer to admit his feelings to himself, though. It’s only been half a week, but he can already feel just how much weight it’s lifted from his chest. He catches himself trying to deny himself anyways, figures it’s more of a habit than anything else, but this time, he’s able to shake it off with a smile. He’s still a little awkward when it comes to initiating affection, but the other is more than forthcoming, pulling him in whenever they have a second alone.
Jeongguk knows what Yoongi wants because they want the same thing. What a refreshing thought to think.
“Yeah, guess you’ll have to grow a real one then, won’t you, baby?”
Jeongguk sounds generally surprised when he says, “Wait you actually like it?”
“Uh, yeah? You actually did end up bearing a slight resemblance to Cha Seung Won.”
“You want me to wear it while we bang?”
“Depends on if you’ll let me call you by his name.”
“Okay maybe not,” Jeongguk says, pulling at the collar of his turtleneck to suck at the fading bruise. It feels good, of course it does, and Yoongi can’t help the way he fits himself tighter against him in response.
“Like me without the ‘stache, too?”
“Mmhmm,” Yoongi says quickly, “One may be better than the other but- mmph .”
In one smooth motion, Jeongguk brushes the Mac from his lap and places his hand over his crotch to squeeze. “Think maybe we should get it out of our systems before we get into roleplaying, huh, hyung?”
“Starting to think you’re only into me for my body,” Yoongi teases, twisting around to look at him.
“Never,” he says with a kiss, “Just trying to show my affection.”
“By grabbing my dick at every opportunity you get?”
“Don’t see you complaining, do I?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, “What happened to the timid little Ggukkie I fell in love with?”
Jeongguk sputters, cocky facade shattering.
Yoongi takes in the blush on his cheeks, “Never left, I guess.”
“Hyung, I’m not even little anymore,” he huffs.
“Ah, right,” he hums, “You’re some big, burly manly man who’s gonna fuck me into next week, right?”
The conviction with which he says it is amusing, as is the concentrated look in his eyes, so Yoongi humours him. “Gonna show me, then? How strong you are?”
“This is so weird,” Jeongguk mutters.
“You can say that again.” It’s not like it’s bad or anything, but he’s so used to talking to Jeongguk like a friend that trying to seduce him feels ridiculous.
“We’ll work on it,” he assures him before leaning in for another kiss. His lips have grown rougher from the all the making out they’ve been doing as of recent, but they’re still warm and welcoming and too good to be true.
Soon, he’s being turned onto his back with Jeongguk repositioning himself between his legs. He lets his mind drift as the younger molds him into position, concentrates only on the feel of his hands, and his tongue, which is licking at his bottom lip.
Jimin yells something out in the corridor and they’re momentarily snapped out of it, Jeongguk leaning back to say, “Should we lock the door to make sure Seokjinnie hyung can’t get in?”
Yoongi snorts, eyes turning towards it. People usually know not to bother him when it’s shut, but Jeongguk’s got a point. Especially after all their years as roomates, the eldest hyung never fails to burst in unannounced. Still, there’s something borderline malicious look on Jeongguk’s face that makes him say, “Exclusively Seokjin hyung?”
“Yeah, he sounds like a chicken when he’s yelling to get let in places, it’ll be funny.”
“Jeongguk,” he says, “We’re about to have sex. I don’t think comedy is what we’re going for.”
“It’s better than him walking on me getting my virginity taken,” he rightfully states, dragging himself off the elder and towards the door.
“Do you think he’d make us stop so we could explain everything?” Yoongi snickers.
“Yeah, probably,” he rolls his eyes, “Love him to death, but the dude really knows how to kill the mood.”
“Oh, so you love him to death, huh?” Yoongi’s gaze follows him as he makes his way back to bed and crawls back between his thighs.
“You know what I mean,” he shrugs out of his shirt, then reaches for Yoongi’s.
“Do I, though?”
“I don’t think it’s him that I’m about to stick it to within the next ten minutes.”
“Huh, didn’t know you could see the future.”
“Hyung,” he whines, bottom lip jutting out, “Come on, I’m trying to... You know.”
As much as he, too, is trying to get laid, he can’t resist the opportunity, “No, Ggukkie, not sure I do.”
“Get it on.”
“Get what on?” For some reason, Jeongguk hasn’t been able to work up the courage to tell Yoongi he wants to sleep with him in direct terms. He’ll just resort to slang with a blush and grope at him in hopes to get his point across.
And Jeongguk, seeing that he’s shattering his tough guy facade, rushes to say, “We’re gonna have sex.”
“Good boy, wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
The corner of his mouth twitches at the praise and he averts his eyes to the waistband of Yoongi’s basketball shorts, “Guess not.”
This is more like what Yoongi expected. Jeongguk’s touch is gentle, if not hesitant as he strips him down, pressing little kisses to his face with each garment he pulls off.
“Can I finger you this time?” he asks, eyes meeting Yoongi’s for no more than a second.
“Sure, if you don’t mind.”
“Y-yeah and like,” he starts as he slips out of his own clothes, “I was thinking this time that it’d be a little better if we didn’t do any foreplay like last time, just in case I… yeah.”
“It’s alright if you do, you know,” he makes a point to try and meet Jeongguk’s eyes, “It happens sometimes.”
“I guess,” he mumbles, “Can you hand me the lube?”
Yoongi does, watches silently as he pours way too much into the palm of his hand and warms it up. He doesn’t say anything, though. Nothing wrong with a greater amount during prep and besides, he wants to see what the younger will do.
“One at a time, right?”
Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek as he nods. Watching Jeongguk’s fingers ghost over his cock before sinking lower is surreal, as is the slight stretch he feels when he slowly sinks his index to the knuckle.
“Do you need a minute?” he asks. His dick, which is already half hard, is quickly swelling to full mass and Yoongi can’t help the way it boosts his ego. The idea of Jeongguk wanting him like this, of being aroused because of him is something he knows he’ll need time to process, if he ever does.
“No,” he says, “You can move it, but not too fast. I’ll tell you when I’m good for the second one.”
Jeongguk doesn’t make any verbal affirmation, just begins to pump it in and out of him, Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight. His fingers are a little narrower than Yoongi’s, don’t feel nearly as uncomfortable when they enter him, allowing him to ask Jeongguk for more sooner than usual. He’s glad, doesn’t want to wait anymore when the act prepping in itself feels like an obstacle.
He’s a little more confident in his actions once he’s gotten the the hang of things, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he curls his fingers in search of his prostate. Still, Yoongi makes no comment, scanning over his face for his reaction. He’s always liked to watch Jeongguk work, take in the concentrated expression on his face when he’s trying to get something down and way he lights up when he succeeds. Why should this be the exception?
Much to his misfortune, his eyes squeeze shut and he groans when Jeongguk finally grazes it, back arching off the bed.
“Hyung, I hate to,” his voice is thick with arousal, “Hate to… you know. But the house is full-”
“Don’t care,” he gasps, sliding down onto Jeongguk’s fingers to make a point, “I’m tired of waiting, want more.”
“Yeah?” his eyes light up, “Want a third?”
“Shit, Ggukkie, so bad.”
It sort of stings, but he likes it, finds the pronounced pain grounds him.
“Can you try and brush my- yeah .”
He can’t look at Jeongguk anymore, scared he’ll cum if he does. Still, he can feel his eyes on him and his free hand, which has reached to play with his nipples, “Didn’t strike you as the loud type, Yoongi hyung.”
“Shut- mmph .” He usually isn’t, but like most things, Jeongguk’s got the hang fingering pretty quickly and Yoongi’s prostate always has been a weak spot. “Just fuck me. Want you to fuck me.”
Jeongguk isn’t adjusting to the change in demeanour well. His movements are getting sloppy and his eyes are fixed on the elder, “Still feels a little tight to me, I don’t know if I-”
“You’re right,” he needs to calm down, “Yeah, ‘nother minute.”
Jeongguk leans in to suck a mark into his chest, probably in an attempt to satiate him. And surprisingly, the warmth of his tongue laving against his skin is enough for him to get his head back on his shoulders for the time it takes for his body to finally adjust.
“I think I’m ready.”
Jeongguk slides his fingers into him a few more times, as if to check before he says, “O-okay, do you have a condom.”
Yoongi rubs a hand down his face, “I don’t…”
“I mean,” the younger starts slowly, “Didn’t you say you’ve never. Done this.”
His heart speeds. He hadn’t really thought of it that way, had drilled into his own mind from an early age that safe sex had to be better. But now that he’s here, with Jeongguk hovering over him in all his naked glory, he thinks that maybe forgoing protection might not be so bad.
They’re both clean, after all, and there is something about the feel of skin on skin that he can’t quite resist.
“Okay,” he says, “Yeah, forget the condom.”
Jeongguk bites back as smile as he snatches the lube back off the mattress and slicks himself up. His cock must ache, certainly looks like it does, tip near purple and curled tightly against his stomach.
“Um. Are you ready?” he asks as he positions himself between Yoongi’s spread legs.
His nails dig into Jeongguk’s shoulders as he edges the tip in. He wants to look up at him, but it feels like too much. His fingers had felt good, but his cock is so thick and warm and satisfying as it slides into him.
“God,” Jeongguk rasps once he’s bottomed out, “Feels so good, hyung. ‘S good for you, too, r-right?”
He can’t find it in himself to do anything other than moan, arms wrapping themselves around the younger to pull him flush against his chest. Their hearts are beating in unison, fast and erratic and their harsh breathing has synced. He’s one with Jeongguk, he realises, intertwined to the fullest and he can’t help his eyes welling with tears. “Thank you,” he forces out of himself, “For everything.”
“A-anything, hyung. For you, I’d do anything.”
Yoongi can’t help the way he cries out when Jeongguk finally starts to move, pulling back just the slightest to pick up a pace that nearly borders steady. The friction is better than his own fingers and his vibe combined and he’s instantly grateful there’s no layer of latex between them.
Jeongguk rests his forehead against his, eyes opening every few seconds only to squeeze shut once more. He’s trying just as hard as Yoongi to hold on, he can tell by the protruding veins in his neck and his clenched jaw. The elder takes it in his hand and guides him into a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated.
He’s moaning at the top of his lungs, but Jeongguk is no better, cursing into his mouth each time his balls slap against his ass.
“Turn over,” he says, pulling out and gripping the base of his cock. He’s no longer timid. His eye hold the same manic glint they did when he was angry and his voice has lowered to a pitch that rivals Yoongi’s. It takes his fucked out brain a moment to catch up. He isn’t sure where the Jeongguk who got flustered over being called ‘baby’’s gone, but he finds he likes the duality. He’ll have to bring it up later.
He rolls onto his back and not a second has passed before Jeongguk’s grabbing his hips and lifting him into position. He kneads at Yoongi’s ass for a second, his harsh pants reverberating through the room. And then he’s inside him again, not bothering to edge the elder into it before hammering away. He wishes he could see him, see the flex in his abs and strain in his arms as he repeatedly pulls him back onto his cock.
“Gonna say my name hyung?” he growls, “Gonna let the whole flat know you finally have me?”
It’s cocky and under any other circumstances, Yoongi would call him a brat and tell him to learn his place. But he’s never been subjected to this side of him and there’s nothing he wants more than to obey, however out of character it feels.
“Mmph,” he mewls into the pillows, “Ggukkie, please.”
Jeongguk reaches for his hair to pulls his head up, “Don’t think they can hear you, hyung.”
There are tears rolling down his cheeks once again and his voice has raised to an embarrassingly high pitch, “Ggukkie, keep fucking me, please?”
He rolls his hips deeper into Yoongi before crashing down onto his back, “Perfect, hyung. Ass so tight.”
“I’m close,” he admits, burrowing his face back into the blankets when he realises just how whiny he sounds. He can’t help it. Jeongguk’s pace isn’t the most consistent, but he’s able to brush his prostate every couple thrusts and it’s just enough to feel good without cumming on the spot.
“Thank god,” he thinks he hears before Jeongguk’s pulling out and telling him to get onto his back once more. “Wanna see your face,” he says, “When I’m cumming.”
“Oh god,” Yoongi whimpers, grabbing out for Jeongguk once his hands find his way to the elder’s cock. It barely takes thirty seconds before he’s cumming all over himself, an odd streak of it flying up to hit his chin.
That’s when Jeongguk starts moving again, leaning back into Yoongi to lick past his slack jaw. His entire body is burning in sensitivity, but he tries to ignore it, putting all his effort into kissing back.
“Can I cum inside you?” Jeongguk murmurs into his mouth and he feels himself nod before he’s flooded with wet warmth and the younger finally stills. “Oh god,” he registers, “Yoongi. Hyung. Oh my god .”
Yoongi rubs down his sweaty neck to his shoulders, listening as his breathing begins to slow and his grip on the elder losens.
They’re silent for a while, Yoongi staring up at the ceiling as Jeongguk drags his mouth across his neck.
“In the shower,” he finally starts, “Did you actually pull your shoulder, or?”
“No,” Jeongguk snorts, voice back to normal, “Saw a bunch of pornos where-”
“Right,” he nods, “Got it.”
He makes an attempt to lift his head, but ends up dropping it back into Yoongi’s neck, “I feel so good, don’t wanna move. You mind staying like this for a while?”
He doesn’t, not at all, “Once my cum dries, it’s probably gonna glue us together.”
“Somehow don’t think you’d mind all that much,” Jeongguk teases.
There’s another silence, more comfortable than ever, “Do you think they actually heard us?”
Jeongguk sighs. Then, “Probably. Sorry, I got kinda heated. Shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
He’s glad he doesn’t have to look him in the eye when he says, “I, uh. Kinda liked it, so it’s alright.”
“Really, hyung? Like it rough like that?”
“Can we talk about this when your dick isn’t still in me, please?”
He sniggers, boyish as ever, “I’ll take that as a yes, then, huh?”
It’s an hour before they finally drag themselves out of bed. Jeongguk suggests they might as well parade out there naked for dramatic effect, but Yoongi rolls his eyes and tosses him his pants, “Do you really want to get lectured by Namjoon with your dick out?”
He shrugs, “Not like it hasn’t happened before.”
They do hold hands, however, as if to confirm to whoever it is that sees them first that it really is them they heard. Not that Yoongi thinks there’s going to be any confusion considering how loud he’d been screaming the maknae’s name.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Namjoon looks up from his magazine when they enter the kitchen, where the five of them are gathered.
“Y’all got dried cum on your stomachs,” Tae points out through a mouthful of his sandwich.
“Nasty,” Hoseok sighs before Jin says, “So when did you two get your heads out of your asses, then?”
They exchange glances. They’d settled on being honest, so Jeongguk says, “Like, three days ago.”
“Makes sense,” says Jimin, “Isn’t that the last time Jeongguk slept over at the studio?”
Yoongi clears his throat, “Uh, yeah.”
“So what does this mean?” Namjoon asks, “Is Jeongguk gay? Are you together? Both? Neither?”
“Both,” they say in unison. Jeongguk’s squeezing his hand hard enough for it to hurt, but he doesn’t mind, likes the idea of being his rock.
“Cool,” Jin says before going back to his phone.
“Yeah,” the other four agree, Tae patting Jeongguk’s shoulder on his way out.
“Wait,” he says and everyone turns around.
“What’s wrong, Gguk?” Hoseok asks.
“Do you guys…. Not care?”
They exchange looks.
Then, Namjoon says, “We’ve discussed this a fair amount in your absence. You’ve both liked each other for what feels like forever, so we agreed that once you two sorted your shit out, we wouldn’t intervene. Either way, once it’s out in the open, it changes the dynamic of the group. If we were to try and separate you, it’d be useless. Probably cause some sort of conflict,” he shrugs, “Plus, we’re your best friends. We want you guys to be happy.”
“Yeah,” Jimin agrees, draping himself over Namjoon’s back, “Management finding out is a different story, but we don’t care. We’re happy if you guys are.”
“Well,” Yoongi slaps his leg with his free hand, “On that note, we’re gonna go shower, so.”
“Try not to be too loud if you start going at it,” Hoseok calls after them, “I’m trying to get an early night and I really don’t need to hear, ‘ugh Ggukkie fuck my ass,’ more than once a year.”
Jeongguk flicks him off before letting Yoongi drag them in the direction of the bathroom.
“That was… so easy,” he says in wonder and Yoongi nods.
“Yeah. I guess this is it, huh?”
“Uh huh. This is it.”
They stare at each other once they’re under the warm water. It’s been a long day and though in any other scenario, Yoongi’s fatigue would make him crabby, he’s anything but.
“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight, right?” he tries to sound casual as he reaches for the soap to scrub Jeongguk’s stomach clean.
He hums in agreement, brushing his wet bangs back, “Pretty sure that’s gonna be commonplace from here on out, hyung. I’m a pretty big cuddler, you know.”
Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever been so content in his life.