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     “would you rather suck a dick for 100 dollars or get your dick sucked by a guy for 50 dollars?”

 

     “what the fuck, dude?”

 

namjoon let out a silent giggle, a huge smile displayed on his face as he took another sip of his half-empty beer can—his eighth beer can that night. his face flushed and burning with pink and reds—usually what happens whenever he drinks quite a bit.

 

 

oh god, was namjoon’s giggles like music to taehyung’s ears, he was sure his last bit of restraint would be broken in that single moment if he had decided to drink as much as namjoon did. he mentally praised himself for keeping a leveled head and choosing to drink as much as two cans of beer, and after he would drink just coke, but namjoon didn’t have to know that.

 

     “choose one, joonie,” the younger teased with his nickname. somehow, namjoon turned more red in reply to the nickname, the scarlets and pinks creeping down his neck as if some being or monster was wrapping itself nicely around his neck.

 

taehyung would always find himself staring at the skin unconsciously, wondering if it felt warm or maybe redden when slightly touched, most likely smooth under his fingers when he goes to wrap his hands around the delicate neck and leave a ring of purple and reds. 

 

     “are you kidding me? i’d rather get sucked off by a guy then suck off a guy, i’m not gay,” namjoon laughed, not a tiny laugh or giggle but a full-on laugh that made him lose his breath afterwards. 

 

he was that drunk and taehyung knew.

 

namjoon, in the back of his head, probably knew, despite his intoxicated brain, that what he said was probably offensive in the least. not exactly homophobic—he knew he wasn't homophobic—but would offend someone or leave someone questioning namjoon if they heard.

 

his response, of course, made taehyung frown visibly but immediately masked it with his coke can that looked very similar to a beer can, he took a sip of the liquid, the coke burning his throat as he gulped, before returning to namjoon who looked near to passing out. 

 

 

his annoyance only bubbling more in his stomach.

 

he had namjoon right there. so vulnerable, virtually in taehyung’s hands.

 

but namjoon didn’t see him like that, and it wasn’t fucking fair.

 

 

     “and only get 50 dollars? didn’t know you were that scared of dick,” taehyung joked, forcing himself to let out a chuckle that sounded strained.

 

he was happy that namjoon was drunk enough to not notice things that he usually does when he’s sober, otherwise, he would’ve noted taehyung’s strained voice and the obvious distress on his face. but drunk namjoon wouldn’t even notice a huge blood puddle next to him until he stepped in it.

namjoon chuckled, his dimples proudly showing off. “i’m not afraid of dick...” he trailed off, toying with his beer can while his eyes continuously flutter open and closed. “...i have one, asshole.” his words were slurred, making the word ‘asshole’ sound like ‘ashole’.

 

 

fuck, he was cute. 

 

taehyung wanted him.

 

taehyung needed to have him. he had to have him.

 

 

     “namjoon,” the younger whispered, slightly tapping namjoon’s arm that rested on his coffee table. 

 

he watched the older’s eyes open momentarily before shutting, his left eyebrow lifting to show that he was still listening, probably couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. small things like that made taehyung’s heart throb.

 

     “you can sleep here for tonight if you’d like,” taehyung offered but he knew his voice came out more demanding than requesting. he cursed himself, hoping that his desperation wasn’t too evident in his voice for namjoon to second guess.

 

namjoon nodded slowly, luckily he was far too drunk to notice the tone of his voice, and pushed his lanky body off from the ground and trudged his way to taehyung’s bed that wasn’t too far. taehyung had to support him though, the small opportunity let taehyung grip namjoon’s thin waist, running his hands up and down his sides tantalizingly. he could feel his own black ripped jeans begin to tighten around his bottom torso uncomfortably.

 

 

     “taehyung? are you okay?” namjoon mumbled once he reached the bed, sprawling himself against the bed and basking himself in the warmth of it that offered plushness his own bed could not.

 

     “what do you mean?” taehyung replied breathlessly.

 

taehyung grabbed one of his blankets, the one he uses dearly every night whether it was sleeping or another activity, and threw it over namjoon, tucking in the taller like a mother almost. 

 

while he was tucking in the blanket in complete silence—occasionally a dog barking off in the distance—he saw a long but slender hand come up and place itself on taehyung’s forehead. the hand felt rough at the palm, smooth at the fingers, and slightly cold yet warm.

 

 

he looked down and he was completely sure that if he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely hard now.

 

 

there, on his own bed, was the once intimidating and overpowering man, namjoon, laying comfortably—as if it was his own bed—with a flushed face tilted towards taehyung, smooth and untainted skin—taehyung’s imagination running wild on the all things he could do to it, loving and adoring eyes that would’ve made anyone blush under the gaze of those two orbs, and a small dimpled smile with the beginning of drool coming down the side of his mouth (thanks to the amount of beer he drank). anyone with a right mind would’ve thought that was disgusting probably, having their friend drool on their pillow right in front of them, but taehyung—he was sure he was never going to wash his pillow ever again.

 

he was not going to let anyone else see this. he wanted only namjoon to stare at him with as much warmth and love he could pour out. 

 

only him.

 

 

     “when you were helping me to the bed,” namjoon whispered, his small voice breaking taehyung from his own thoughts, “you were breathing really hard.” he chuckled and removed his hand from the other’s forehead, putting it under the covers. “was i that heavy?”

 

namjoon was, to be completely honest, heavy, and that was natural. he had a bigger structure than taehyung physically, but it was mostly his height that added to his weight. if he was as tall as taehyung he’d most likely be the same weight as taehyung, maybe slightly less with his figure.

 

however, taehyung wasn’t breathing hard because of that, he was breathing hard for a whole different reason. 

 

     “not really,” taehyung replied in a gruff voice. 

 

already knowing that namjoon couldn’t hear him because he was asleep.

 

 

 


 

 

 

taehyung stood over namjoon, his demeanor overpowering the sweet moment that happened not too long ago.

 

he looked down at namjoon with predatory eyes, lusting for something, his shaky fingers fiddling with the belt loops on the waist band of his black pants, a prominent outline of his bulge pointing out. his fingers quivering in anticipation and his heartbeat stopping every time namjoon let out a snore or moved just enough.

 

taehyung knew there was a boundary that he should never cross.

 

but namjoon made him forget any of those boundaries existed. he just thought of namjoon and that’s the only thing that existed to him.

 

he was so clueless, so oblivious, so pure and innocent, and it was fucking unbearable for taehyung. it made him wonder how a person could be so smart yet so dumb? he’s made plenty of advantages at the start to show he was interested, it was only when taehyung voiced aloud of his sexuality that the other finally got it through his thick skull and into his brain without it coming out the other side. he remembers the shocked expression on the older’s face, nodding before saying heartfelt words like “i accept you no matter what” and “you’re my best friend, this doesn’t change a thing.”

 

namjoon would never see him as a possible candidate for dating. 

 

he was straight and taehyung was not.

 

and taehyung did not like that.

 

 

he bent down, as painful as it was for him to do so because of his current boner. pulling his fingers away from the loops—thankfully it was no longer shaky—to touch the plush bottom lip that belonged to namjoon, swiping his thumb along the top and bottom, experimenting silently to check any hint of consciousness in the older.

 

you would think that his lips were dry and flaky, maybe rough, but it was actually the quite opposite. they were soft under his fingers, definitely moisturized (taehyung has watched him multiple of times to stop and apply chapstick), and thick. 

 

they were perfect for taehyung.

 

     “you’re so pretty, my joonie,” taehyung whispered lovingly as he applied some pressure on the bottom lip. he quickly looked up, his eyes searching for any discomfort on the others face. when he didn’t find any he let out a shuddering breath before pressing further. 

 

he slid his thumbs pass his lips and into a warm space, feeling something burning and wet press against his thumb for a second. 

 

     “fuck,” he whimpers.

 

in seconds, he was sliding down his pants using the belt loops, pulling and pushing them down until the waistband of his pants were slightly above his knees. he looked down to see that he was in fact hard, no surprise there. he began to palm the bulge in his underwear as he continued to play with namjoon’s lips delicately—swiping his thumb against the bottom lip or prodding namjoon’s resting tongue.

 

taehyung kept his eyes focused on namjoon’s blissful face, noting every feature and flaw that could be seen with his hungry eyes. applying more pressure to his confined cock, trying not to squirm and moan.

 

     “god,” he breathed out, harshly stroking, feeling something wet seep through the material of his underwear. “god, namjoon.”

 

he’s done this plenty of times before alone in the very bed namjoon was laying on.

 

he would imagine namjoon’s plush lips wrapped around his cock, throat fucking him until he gagged or threw up. he would imagine namjoon riding him, bouncing mercifully on top of taehyung with his own shaft, flushed in a pretty pink, would bounce with him while letting out loud cries of pleasure. or rimming namjoon’s tight, puckered hole, treated like the slut he was. or maybe namjoon begging to be filled, to be impregnated, to be filled with his come until it was leaking out of namjoon for days

 

whatever he imagined, it was always namjoon. namjoon. namjoon.

 

the desire building up in taehyung only made him rut harder and faster into his palm until both of his hands were pulling down his underwear in one swift movement. grabbing his painfully erect cock, flushed a bright red at the head where pre-cum was leaking from the slit. he swiped his finger over the tip to gather the pre-cum, spreading it over his cock in fast strokes.

 

     “mine,” he chanted over and over in a deep growl, keeping his eyes on namjoon.

 

namjoon wasn’t normally a heavy sleeper, he awoke to the tiniest bit of noise, but when he was drunk nothing could disturb his slumber. this gave taehyung moments like these to relieve half of his stress—he thinks it won’t last for long though.

 

the dark room was filled with slick and squelching noises and small suppressed moans coming from taehyung. every time he ran his finger over a vein, applying the tiniest more pressure on it, he would bottom out and let out a sob. loud and clear for anyone to hear.

 

he could feel something rising to his chest—warmth. an abundance of heat pushing through and almost contracting his insides. his abdomen froze, tightening around and sending pleasure all the way down to his balls.

 

his toes curled to the pleasure and brought his palm to the tip of his member, pressing down hard until he felt hot streaks of liquid shoot onto it, biting down hard onto his bottom lip to stop the scream of pleasure of coming out. lacing his palm with his white translucent seed before it was dripping down onto the wooden floor beneath him. 

 

 


 

 

 

disgusting, he thought. the shame creeping up onto his neck. 

 

just like a monster.

 

it wrapped itself around his neck, spreading down over his chest until it hit the floor to curl back into taehyung because it found no more flesh to attach itself to.

 

he looked in the bathroom mirror, watching himself with a dry, bloody bottom lip wet the rag he used to clean the sperm-covered floor and himself with.

 

     “disgusting,” the monster spoke.

 

but he couldn’t see the monster, the monster didn’t have a body, it wasn’t visible, it didn’t have a mouth. he just saw himself, kim taehyung, the 22-year-old art major, mouth the words with dull eyes.

 

he was disgusted. of course he was, he knew what he was doing.

 

he gets ashamed of himself every time he invites namjoon over, every time he brings out the beer, every time he lets namjoon sleep in his apartment, and every time he vouches to never do it again. yet, here he is. cleaning the cum-stained rag in silence at one in the morning like many other mornings before, enjoying the innocent incoherent mumbles coming out of namjoon as he sleeps.

 

no—this wasn’t kim taehyung.

 

he threw the rag into the sink, the water splashing and hitting taehyung as he leaned over the marble counter. tears pricking at his eyes, luckily his bangs covered his eyes, not allowing him to see his face which would only add more fuel to the fire.

 

he let out a choked sob, grabbing his head with his hands as tears started to drip down through the spaces his fingers couldn’t cover.

 

     “i’m so sorry,” he whimpered out softly, “sorry. god i’m so sorry.”

 

 

 

this wasn’t supposed to be kim taehyung.

 

kim taehyung was supposed to a regular university student with friends, with family, with love. he was supposed to have a life.

 

he wasn’t supposed to be this creepy guy—not to mention younger—fall in love with his best friend; getting jealous over simple things he did with classmates, or wanting to fuck him whenever he’d breathe.

 

he didn’t want to be that.

 

he wanted to be the guy who got namjoon to fall in love with him, making their first time special and sincere. he wanted to take him out to dates and surprise him with flattering yet cheesy gifts, to do nothing but love him entirely. but fate always seemed to bite him in the back, didn’t it?

 

he let out a chuckle. it wasn’t a happy one, neither was it forced. it was just sad.

 

 

he is the monster.

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

taehyung hadn’t moved from the couch since last night, not a wink of sleep was added to his day and you could clearly see so by the way his head nodded to each side before straightening again, or the way his eyes were bloodshot red and had massive bags under them that his makeup couldn’t hide. he just now remembered that his makeup was still on.

 

with a sigh he watched rays break into his room through his blinds covering the door to his balcony, it infested itself over his coffee table and couch, going further until it stopped right before his kitchen.

 

     “pretty,” he stated dully.

 

why was he like this now?

 

 


 

 

 

     “taehyung, oh, god, my head—where are the...” namjoon’s voice stopped abruptly, his throat gone dry once he saw taehyung shrivel into the couch. 

 

 

the younger lazily looked up to see namjoon. his hair was fluffy, tiny strands sticking up in all direction and others stuck to his face. his pants were loose around his waist, the two jaw strings hanging, and the white shirt he wore must’ve shifted to one side of his shoulder than the other while he slept because now half of his collarbone was exposed leaving more to the imagination. his face was flushed and puffy from drinking but it only made him cuter. 

 

on any regular day taehyung would voice his undying love for the six foot man, but right now, he wanted nothing more to cry. 

 

and he did cry. the tears came, rolling down his cheek and leaving a wet trail upon his pale face.

 

     “i’m sorry, hyung,” he cried. “i’m horrible, so horrible.”

 

was he going to tell namjoon everything? all his thoughts? all his needs and desires? or just his feelings?

 

he didn’t want to lose namjoon, he was sure he’d die if he lost namjoon.

 

     “taehyung? jesus—fuck, what happened?” taehyung watched namjoon bolt towards him, almost tripping over his feet making the whole situation almost comical to taehyung.

 

he could feel warmth spread over his cheeks, wiping away the cold tears, it was namjoon’s hands, slightly calloused at the palm but soft at the tips—it was welcoming, it felt like home. 

 

     “you’re freezing cold,” namjoon mumbled.

 

the older was about to leave, the warmth from his hands already withdrawing and the cold, bitter air returning. taehyung let out a small noise to complain, one that namjoon probably couldn’t hear with his hangover, and grabbed his hands, pulling the warm-flooded hands onto his face where they should be.

 

     “taehyung,” namjoon cautioned, “you’re cold.”

 

     “i know.”

 

     “then let me get a blanket. do you want tea?” he looked towards the kitchen warily, he knew taehyung served and drank tea a lot so it wasn’t a problem on finding some, but if he could at least make tea without burning the house down was the problem.

 

     “no,” he stated. “stay with me.” 

 

namjoon felt taehyung’s hands grab onto his waist as if it was a way to restrain namjoon. now—that, was quite odd for him to do. he’s never done that, even being for a touchy guy, he’s never done that. it only made namjoon’s nerves jump and his concern exceed through the roof.

 

     “i’m not going to leave you taehyung, i just need to warm you up, okay?” namjoon ran his hands through his black hair to reassure the younger.

 

it was silent for a few seconds, taehyung probably thinking or spacing out which he occasionally did. soon, a tiny “okay” came from taehyung, his head slowly nodding.

 

he smiled, feeling the grip on his waist loosen enough for him to move away. he ruffled his hair before walking to the closet to get the blankets, his pounding heart overcoming the painful pounding in his head. he could still feel eyes on his back as if taehyung was making sure he won’t leave. he wasn’t. he never has and never will.

 

 

 

he came back with a huge ball of blankets he found in the closet that were nicely folded until namjoon found them. he dropped them down next to taehyung’s figure that hasn’t moved an inch from the couch since he found him. it was actually worrying him and he thought he might’ve called the ambulance if it wasn’t for taehyung still being conscious.

 

taehyung did deal with a lot of stress. he was top of his classes, known to be one of the prodigy-like art majors, and has two upholding jobs for his family finances and his own. not to mention he has his brothers and sisters to argue with over the phone. with his work he was bound to crash and break, today just must’ve been it.

 

namjoon sometimes wonder at different times during the day why taehyung bothered to become friends with namjoon—even best friends at that. like right now, he wondered what he did to deserve such a miracle. he wasn’t confident or good-looking like taehyung, he didn’t have any special attributes except for his dimples, the only thing about him that he likes.

 

     “you’re thinking again,” taehyung’s smooth voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

namjoon blinked. he continued to wrap taehyung with another blanket that he didn’t even know he was wrapping until now. “i was?” he asked. oblivious to his own self.

 

     “yeah,” taehyung chuckled. his voice seemed lighter than it was a few minutes ago where it sounded like if he was going to break if something touches him, like glass that has already been cracked. “your eyes harden and your eyebrows point downward, you also tongue your cheek.”

 

     “wow. are you sure you want to be an art major and not an investigator?” namjoon chuckled, his chest feeling lighter now since taehyung seemed to regain some of his composure back.

 

     “you’d be surprised at how much you think,” taehyung commented. he accepted the blankets, gripping onto them.

 

namjoon smiled, “i was thinking you should probably shower.”

 

he looked down to see taehyung nodding, a small grin etched onto his face. he was happy that taehyung was getting into a better mood, and he shouldn’t ask if he wanted to keep him happy, but he did anyway, like the dumbass he is.

 

     “can you tell me what happened?” he sat down next to taehyung who was probably covered in fifty blankets by now. he mentally cursed himself for the dumb question, but his concern and curiosity got the best of him.

 

silence filled the room. not a comfortable silence, an uncomfortable and dreading silence. the peaceful moment they had was gone, namjoon had somehow fucked everything up in that one second with one question. it was just quiet, the room was quiet, the walls were quiet. even the dog that barked every day was quiet, namjoon noted this. the whole universe was telling him: “you done fucked up now.”

 

namjoon was about to apologize profusely, he would even beg if he had to, he was just concerned for his friend and he didn’t want them hurt, but taehyung spoke first.

 

     “would you ever leave me? namjoon?” his voice was low.

 

maybe it was namjoon’s eyes playing a trick on him or his hangover, but he definitely noticed the shift of color in the room. the sun rays were disappearing, wilting back, and letting the cold and dark take over.

 

     “i would never,” he stated almost too fast that it seemed that taehyung didn’t like the answer by the way his eyes sharpened for a split second.

 

     “even if i’m a horrible person?” he questioned, this time he turned his head to meet namjoon’s eyes, orbs drained of feeling staring at brown, hopeful ones.

 

namjoon has never felt so small so easily.

 

     “you’re not a horrible person, taehyung,” the older reassured. “did someone tell you something?”

 

silence once again. 

 

     “but what if i am?” taehyung pushed. “what if i did something horrible that would be close to a sin?”

 

namjoon thought for a moment. “okay, let’s see. with this premise: you being a horrible person or sinner, i probably still would’ve been your friend, maybe more wary, but a friend to you nonetheless. i’d try to do whatever to make you teeter off that path because i care about you.”

 

taehyung nodded and turned his head toward the wall in front of him, the corners of his lips daring to grin but settling back into a thin line.

 

     “you’re a good person, taetae,” namjoon commented, absentmindedly using a nickname he only uses in dire situations. “you do a lot, you’re too good of a person that it’s almost crazy,” namjoon said lightheartedly.

 

     “so you’d never leave me?” he beseeched.

 

namjoon shook his head, “i’d never, you’re too important to me.” 

 

that was all it took for taehyung.

 

     “you’re so innocent sometimes,” taehyung teased.

 

     “sure i am.”

 

 

 

namjoon pulled his phone out of his pocket, low on battery because he didn’t charge it last night. he checked the time and a few messages from group chats that were for group assignments and his mother. it wasn’t very early or late, just enough time for him to make it to his classes.

 

     “i should probably get going now if i want to make it to class, you too.” he got up only to fall back down, he somehow forgot he has still suffering from a slight hungover right now.

 

     “really?” taehyung groaned.

 

he knew taehyung usually skipped some of his morning classes and went to his afternoon classes only, his professors don’t really mind as long as he does the work, which he does, it’s just shocking for namjoon to hear. all of his professors have trees up their ass and freak about every single thing.

 

     “just stay,” taehyung whined.

 

     “you know i can’t.”

 

     “i thought you said you wouldn’t leave.”

 

     “i’m going to university. it’s not like i’m going to somehow buy a plane ticket and disappear.” namjoon began to look for his belongings.

 

     “i thought we were friends, come on. i had a crappy morning and i feel like hurling up all my food for the past week.”

 

namjoon turned around to inspect the younger’s well being. it was true, it did look like he was about to throw up, his skin was sickly pale, not the usual golden skin, and his eyes bloodshot.

 

     “you’re overthinking things, just stay.” his tone was authoritative almost. taehyung had a mind to properly teach himself how to restrain his tone sometimes.

 

namjoon put on a questioning face before letting out a small sigh, it was only sensible for him to take care of taehyung. “okay. i’ll stay for a day only.”

 

he watched from the corner of his eyes and saw taehyung smiling proudly, his usual boxy-like smile he does when he’s overrun with content.

 

this was namjoon’s first missing a day of classes, even when he was sick or throwing up his intestines, he still came. he, himself, was surprised that he even agreed to this. nevertheless, namjoon waved off any negative thoughts in his head for missing class and decided to go run a bath for taehyung as well as write some emails to some of his professors explaining his absence.

 

he walked off with a blank head, trying so hard to not overthink like taehyung had said.

 

 

unbeknownst to him, taehyung was smiling for a totally different reason.

 

 

 

 

namjoon was just too innocent.