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It's 4am.

4am is the only explanation that Namjoon can come up with, the only possible way that the words which have just left Yoongi's mouth make sense. The only possible way he's even found himself in this situation to begin with, trapped in Monstudio with Yoongi. Literally trapped, not just shoved together in a room and told to work out their differences.

No, they are literally, literally trapped, because somehow the door lock is broken, and somehow no one back at the dorm is awake, or at the very least, has answered any of their increasingly frantic KKT messages. Namjoon doesn't know why they've all chosen tonight to suddenly catch up on their fucking beautY rest, but. Here they are, the two of them, locked in a room the size of a closet, snacking on Namjoon's slowly dwindling supply of non-perishable snacks and energy drinks.

They've both agreed that the potential embarrassment of having to call Bang Si-hyuk hyungnim is worse than being stuck in a closet for a few hours until someone wakes up, but that still, still, doesn't excuse the words that have just come out of Yoongi's mouth.

"I'm sorry, what," Namjoon says, just to make sure he's not going insane.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, like Namjoon is the most annoying person in the entire world, which to be fair, to Yoongi, he probably is. He's got a lollipop stuck in one cheek, and he mumbles the words around them as he lays on his back on the floor, with Namjoon barely spitting distance away.

"You said you've never gotten a blowjob," Yoongi says, slow and long-suffering, like he's speaking to someone who can't understand Korean. "And I said, what the fuck Joon, that's a fucking tragedy."

"No," Namjoon says. His throat is dry as he stares up at the ceiling. Is Yoongi just fucking with him? He has to be fucking with him. There's no way he said what Namjoon thinks he said. "No, the part, um. The part after that."

"Oh," Yoongi says. He has one arm pillowed behind his head. He closes his eyes, like Namjoon is the dumbest person in the world and it's physically paining him to force the worlds out. "I said, 'Since we're both stuck in here, you might as well let me help you out with that.' Jesus, Joon, do you even listen when I talk?"

"I listen," Namjoon says, faintly. "Nope, I was listening. I just. Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Blowjobs," Yoongi says. He turns his head, and gives Namjoon a calm, searching look. Like they're talking about the fucking weather, or something. "I mean, that's what I was talking about."

Namjoon is quiet for a long moment.

"Are you fucking with me?" he says, eventually. "Because if you're fucking with me, that seems really mean. Like--"

"No, I'm not fucking with you," Yoongi says, and he finally sounds--thrown off, at least, by Namjoon's hesitation. Slightly nervous. "We've had this conversation before, remember?"

"Um," Namjoon says. "What."

"The…" Yoongi sighs, finally pulling the lollipop out of his mouth. "The gay thing," he says. "The whole, okay, so we both like dicks, or at least we both like them sometimes. That thing." He frowns. "Please tell me I didn't imagine that, because otherwise the past five minutes are possibly the biggest mistake of life."

"No!" Namjoon says, and it comes out far higher than he expects, more of a squeaky yelp than anything else. He coughs, clearing his throat, and wills himself to meet Yoongi's eyes as he turns his head to the side. Their pinky fingers are almost touching. "No. You didn't. You didn't imagine that."

"Jeez, thank fuck," Yoongi says. "Okay. Cool. You scared me there for a second."

"Right." Namjoon says. "And you're absolutely not fucking with m--"

"Literally what did I just fucking say, Kim Namj--"

"Yes," Namjoon says, mostly to shut Yoongi up, but also because he's pretty sure that if he doesn't squeeze the words out now, he's never going to do it. "Yes. My answer is yes."

"Took you long enough," Yoongi says. He switches the lollipop to the other side of his mouth, giving Namjoon an appraising glance.

"How are you so casual about this?" Namjoon asks, because he feels like his heart is beating in double-time, like if he doesn't force himself to keep breathing he might just accidentally pass out. "We work together, fuck, we live together? What if it makes things weird? What if--"

"Will you chill the fuck out?" Yoongi says. He sits up, cracking his neck. "We're stuck in a tiny room, I'm bored, you're bored, I'm vaguely horny, you have a dick that's never been sucked, like--" He gestures expansively. "I am failing to see how this doesn't add up in your head."

"Exactly how often do you do this?" Namjoon says, and then wants to crawl into a hole and die.

"Wow, okay, nevermind," Yoongi says, his expression sliding into something cold and annoyed and very, very distant. "It was just an offer, asshole."

"I'm so--fuck, I shouldn't have said that," Namjoon gasps, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. He presses one hand to his mouth, as though he can take the words back. "Fuck. Fucking--I am so sorry, hyung. I'm just--"

"You're just what?" Yoongi seems skeptical. Namjoon can't blame him.

"Nervous," Namjoon mutters, his eyes still closed. Their hands are no longer touching. Fuck. He fucked everything up. As usual. Kim Namjoon and his inability to stop fucking talking, his inability to stop analysing a situation until it blows up in his face. "Hyung, I am so, so sorry. Honestly. I didn't mean that."

"Better not have," Yoongi mutters.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, moving his hands to cover his eyes. "I would be really honored if you would give me my first blowjob, hyung."

Yoongi is silent for a long moment. When Namjoon finally peeks through his fingers, Yoongi's looking at Namjoon like he can't decide whether to laugh or to punch him, but laughter is currently winning.

Yoongi bites his lip on a smile, quickly schooling his features back into his trademark deadpan expression

"Say that again," he says, utterly monotone. "But this time, with more feeling. Say it like you mean it."

Namjoon groans. "You are literally just fucking with me now."

"You deserve it. Come on," Yoongi says, raising an eyebrow. "Talk hyung into it. I'm not feeling very motivated anymore."

"Oh my fucking--" Namjoon's face is on fire. His entire face is on fire and this is so embarrassing he's not sure he's even going to be able to get hard. "Um. Okay. Uh, Yoongi hyung-nim, I'm really sorry I...said something stupid, and I would really like it if you. If you would consider giving me a blowjob."

"That's more like it," Yoongi says. He pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. "Alright. Take your pants off."

"What, just like that?"

Yoongi murmurs something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "fucking pillow princesses," which doesn't even make sense, and then he's lying back down, rolling over on his side, facing Namjoon and tugging his head closer with one hand.

His lips are dry and chapped and Namjoon has a moment of absolute terror that this is going to end up as the worst mistake of his life but then Yoongi traces his tongue over the seam of Namjoon's lips, pushing inside, and the kiss is suddenly so wet and forceful that Namjoon lets out an involuntary shiver. Like, what Yoongi is doing to his mouth should be illegal. It's dirty. It is very clearly a Metaphor with a capital M, because Min Yoongi does not fuck around and he's not subtle and the way he's sucking on the tip of Namjoon's tongue is the least subtle thing Namjoon has ever felt in his life.

"That's," Namjoon whispers, when they pause for a moment, just breathing in each other's air. "Wow. Okay."

"You say this like you expected it to be bad," Yoongi says, smirking and pressing one hand to Namjoon's chest as he climbs on top of him and straddles his hips. "I'm almost offended."

"Wait, come back," Namjoon gasps, threading his hands through Yoongi's greasy hair. Yoongi leans down to kiss him again, wet lips sliding against wet, letting out a soft grunt when Namjoon opens for him without any resistance.

But god, they're both so gross. They both need to shower, and honestly at any other time Namjoon would be freaking out about that, too, except Yoongi doesn't really seem to care or mind that they both smell a little bit like post-workout sweat and that Namjoon's mouth probably tastes like dried squid. Yoongi just tastes like lollipop, like the asshole planned this, but Namjoon can't think too hard about that right now. Not when Yoongi is trailing his long fingers down Namjoon's sides and fisting his hands in his shirt and kissing him like the world is about to end.

"Say it," Yoongi says, the next time they pull back to breathe. Namjoon wishes that 'cocky' wasn't such a good look on him. "Say hyung is a good kisser."

"Hyung is an excellent kisser," Namjoon groans, because Yoong is doing something devilish with his hips that has Namjoon seeing stars. Yoongi grins against Namjoon's mouth. "Damn right I am."

Namjoon pauses, weighing the potential complications for a nanosecond before whispering, "But I'm still a better lyricist."

"OH you little fucking--" Yoongi rumbles, threading his fingers through Namjoon's hair and tugging, hard. Namjoon tries not to look too pleased about what he's accomplished, letting his head fall to the side while Yoongi bites a sharp, hot line up the side of Namjoon's neck.

"You're not subtle, you know," Yoongi whispers, catching Namjoon's ear lobe with his sharp little teeth, and Namjoon groans as the spike of pain slides straight down between his legs.

"Not subtle," Namjoon agrees, sliding his hands up the side of Yoongi's face and god, Yoongi's face is so tiny compared to Namjoon's hands, fits so perfectly between them. "But effective. Very effective."

"Hmmph," Yoongi mutters, biting at Namjoon's lower lip before he soothes the ache with a softer kiss, backing off for a moment. "Take your pants off."

"Yes," Namjoon agrees, nodding hurriedly and trying to squirm his hands down between their bodies. "Yes, good. Yes. Pants off." He thinks he hears Yoongi mumble something that sounds suspiciously like god, you're cute, but when he looks up, Yoongi is giving him an aggressively blank expression. He lifts his hips, helping Namjoon tug his pants and his underwear down to his knees and then huffing in annoyance when Namjoon winces at the cold, rough carpeting on his bare ass.

"You owe me," Yoongi mutters, grabbing his sweatshirt and shoving it under Namjoon's ass. "Also If you get come on that, I swear to god they'll never find your body."

"Uh-huh," Namjoon says weakly. "Got it."

"Good," Yoongi says. He slides his hands up underneath Namjoon's oversized t-shirt, the back of his hand brushing against Namjoon's cock. Namjoon can't help the way his hips snap up, the way his head falls back with a helpless sigh.

"Sensitive?" Yoongi says, smirk firmly back in place.

"You touched my dick," Namjoon shoots back. "That's--seriously, I swear to god, that has to be normal." He pauses. "Oh my god, wait, it's normal, right?"

"How are you literally a seething mass of dick-related anxiety, what the fuck," Yoongi says, even as his hands stroke gentle, calming curves and lines along Namjoon's belly. "This has to be a Freudian thing."

"Like you've ever read Freud."

"Have you?"

"Yes," Namjoon says, wincing at the memory. "And please never bring him up ever again when I'm naked, thanks."

"I mean," Yoongi says. "I guess that's fair."

"If you say one more word about Freud I'm going to lose my erection, I'm warning you right--oh my god," Namjoon gasps, as he's suddenly surrounded by the soft warmth of Yoongi's mouth. He whimpers, unable to stop his hips from bucking up. Yoongi swirls his tongue around the glans, sucking lightly and then pulls off to lay one arm heavily across Namjoon's hips.

"Better?" Yoongi says, raising an eyebrow. "Also, please don't choke me with your giant fucking dick, thanks."

Namjoon swallows. Part of him wants to push a little bit farther on that conversational tangent but his mind goes blank the minute Yoongi slowly, carefully leans down and takes him back into his mouth. He's leaning on his elbows, one hand pressing Namjoon's right hip into the floor and one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and Namjoon already knows what visual he's going to be jerking off to for the next forty-nine years of his life.

And god, the sounds. The sounds. Namjoon isn't a total virgin, okay, he's watched enough porn to know what a blowjob sounds like (more than enough porn, if he's honest) but there's something about hearing it from less than a foot away that has him insanely close, insanely fast. He groans, threading his fingers through Yoongi's hair, and that makes Yoongi groan around him and oh fuck, oh fuck, wait, now he's too close.

Namjoon yanks on Yoongi's hair, pulling him off sharply enough that Yoongi snaps, "what the fuck, Joon?"

"Was going to come," Namjoon manages, gasping for breath, feeling the tightness in his balls slowly recede as his body begins to back away from the edge. "I was going to--and I didn't want to--"

"I mean, that's literally the point," Yoongi says. "Ow, you asshole, that hurt." He tugs Joon's hand out of his hair, rubbing at his scalp and frowning up at Namjoon.

"Sorry," Namjoon says, immediately feeling like an asshole. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't want to. I didn't want to like. Surprise you? Or like, embarrass myself?"

"Joon," Yoongi says, sighing, leaning down to let a long, thick glob of spit fall from his lips onto Namjoon's dick. Namjoon lets out a strangled, helpless whimper at the sight. "You're a blowjob virgin, okay? Stop worrying so much. I was literally expecting you to come, like, a minute ago."

"Oh," Namjoon says.

"Like, I'm almost offended that you didn't," Yoongi says. "I'm really good at this, you know."

Namjoon swallows.

"Is that a challenge?" he says, unsteadily.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at him.

There's silence between them for a long, long moment.

"Yes," Yoongi says, at the same time as Namjoon groans, "Fuck it, that was a challenge." His lower back arches up as Yoongi plants a messy kiss on the side of his cock, licking at the trail of saliva sliding downwards.

"That's--that's cheating, fuck," Namjoon whispers, trying to keep his voice level. God, Yoongi's mouth. Namjoon is never going to be able to look at Yoongi's mouth ever again without picturing his lips stretched wide around his dick. Fucking hell. Fuck.

"Of course it's cheating," Yoongi whispers, the next time he's raised his lips back up to the head. He leans back, blowing a steady stream of hot air against Namjoon's glans. "I always cheat. And I always win, motherfucker." He sinks down again, letting the head of Namjoon's cock stretch his cheek out wide. Namjoon traces his fingers over the bulge of his cock in Yoongi's cheek, letting out a soft moan right as Yoongi looks up and winks at him.

"I hate you," Namjoon moans, even as Yoongi wraps his hand around the base of Namjoon's cock and begins to slide his fist up to meet his mouth. "Hate, hate, hate--oh, fuck--I hate--oh, fuck, hyung, please don't stop--"

Yoongi winks at him again.

"Goddammit," Namjoon gasps, his legs beginning to shake under the strain of holding himself back. He can feel the raw need coiling in his belly, singing hot and sweet through his veins, and when Yoongi lets out a moan around his cock--an actual moan, like Namjoon is some rare and delicious treat--that's it. It's over. Namjoon tugs on Yoongi's hair frantically, trying to warn him, but Yoongi just sinks deeper and Namjoon comes down his throat, whining low and frantic as his whole body shakes with the force of his orgasm.

__

It takes him a long few minutes to come back to his body, but when he does, it's to the realization that Yoongi is poking him gently in the cheek, looking mildly concerned.

"Hyung, quit it," Namjoon mumbles, trying to push Yoongi's hand away, but he can barely move and the words come out slurred. Yoongi smiles at him like he's just won a Daesang.

"I win," Yoongi says, tongue swirling happily around the vowels, elongating them, letting them drip and meander until he's just being an unrepentant asshole.

Namjoon sighs. He opens his eyes, mildly concerned that he's fallen and hit his head and this whole thing has been a weird fever dream, but then Yoongi tries to poke his dimple again and nope, that actually just happened.

"You win," Namjoon admits, batting at Yoongi's hand. "That was...amazing."

"Told you," Yoongi says. "I am a god among men."

"You really are."

"All shall bow before me and despair."

"Uh-huh."

"Right, I'm jerking off now," Yoongi says, apparently satisfied. Namjoon frowns up at the ceiling. That seems...wrong. Yoongi just blew his mind, quite literally, and now he's jerking himself off? That seems unfair.

He rolls over on his side, batting Yoongi's hand away from his underwear. Yoongi just blinks at him.

"Listen," Namjoon says, taking a deep breath. "I want a rematch."

"What," Yoongi says.

"But I can't suck dick," Namjoon continues. "Or like, I'm sure I can, in the physical sense, but it probably won't be very good."

Yoongi stares at him.

"...Continue," he says, eventually. "I'm listening."

"So you need to give me a handicap," Namjoon says. He slides his fingertips over the tent in Yoongi's boxers, pretending not to notice the way Yoongi groans and bites down on his lip in response. "Something that I'm good at."

"Let me guess," Yoongi says, and if his voice is suddenly breathy and too-rough, neither of them point it out. "You're an expert in jerking yourself off."

"More than an expert," Namjoon says. "At this point I probably have a doctorate. A PhD." He slips his fingers underneath the waistband of Yoongi's boxers. "What do you say?"

Yoongi grins.

"Alright," he says, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. His eyes are shining, and his smile is brighter than the brightest star. He laughs, low and delighted.

"Alright, Kim Namjoon, you cocky little son of a bitch. Rematch...accepted."