when jeongguk gets home, it’s without the usual hop in his step; he marches up the stairs to his apartment and grumbles when he can’t fit the key in the lock on his first try, nor on his second. when he finally gets the key into the lock and unlocks the door, it’s with something curdling within him; he doesn’t mean to slam the door shut but does it anyway, startling himself with the loud bang. for a second, he just stands there and glares at the empty kitchen table, empty living room. empty apartment.
all at once, he feels tears beginning to well in his eyes, everything he’s been keeping at bay since he got on the bus to come home. and it’s stupid to cry, maybe, but he can’t help being an emotional person—can’t help being affected so greatly by miniscule things. but jeongguk is angry too, and he angrily wipes at his eyes before he struggles to get his own coat off, tossing it somewhere in the kitchen before he stomps toward his room. there’s no one to complain about jeongguk leaving his clothes everywhere, anyway. there’s no one to complain about slamming doors and marching footsteps, and that’s the problem.
in his room, jeongguk paces back and forth, aggressively wiping at his eyes when a new tear dares to well up. he’s being irrational, probably. it’s not his friend’s fault that she’s been in a happy relationship for the past few months and likes to tote around her boyfriend everywhere she goes. the boyfriend in question is a lovely person, of course. he’s always offering to carry her bags and he brings her coffee at work and he calls her every night to tell her goodnight. they look at each other with so much care and compassion that it makes jeongguk want to cry.
he’s happy for her. he’s happy for them both.
but jesus fucking christ, if jeongguk isn’t jealous—
he’s known for a long time, of course, that he’s lonely. he has friends, but none close enough to help him in this situation. he’s had several failed attempts at tinder and other dating sites. a friend once suggested he just try to meet people, try to get close enough to warrant actually getting a boyfriend, but that isn’t the problem.
the problem is that jeongguk isn’t just lonely—he’s already half in love, or maybe whole in love now, with someone he can’t have. because that someone is, quite literally, the monster under his bed.
jeongguk stops pacing as the thought occurs to him, as it always does when he feels upset about being alone, about not getting to hold hands with someone while they walk down the street; his eyes turn to his bed, chest heaving. the thing is, he only ever calls on yoongi for sex—that’s the point. the first time it happened, he’d merely been getting himself off and whining for someone, anyone, and then yoongi had shown up, tentacles and all.
it’s been months and months, though. the form yoongi takes when he comes to jeongguk is pretty. he holds jeongguk if jeongguk asks, grumbling about the anime that jeongguk makes him watch. and yoongi is a monster from another realm, only able to come to the human world through the portal conveniently placed under jeongguk’s bed. he can’t even stay in the human world for long periods of time without risking hurting himself. by all accounts, being in love with him is a very, very bad situation to be in.
jeongguk gets an idea.
he drags his desk chair to the foot of his bed, the one that yoongi usually sits in while his tentacles are going to work on jeongguk. it’s a strange new sense of power that he feels when he sits in it and watches the bed for a second, considering and reconsidering. yoongi might be angry. yoongi might try to reject him, as he often does when jeongguk tries to rope him into staying—but yoongi always stays anyway, and doesn’t that count for something? he doesn’t know how to say no. maybe—and this is the singular thing that has jeongguk moving forward with his plan—maybe it’s not entirely one-sided.
so jeongguk takes a second, crossing his legs and watching the bed, and then lets out a loud and wanton moan of, “please, yoongi-hyung.”
despite the fact that yoongi almost always makes it seem as though answering the call is a chore, he still shows up remarkably fast—or maybe time moves differently in the monster realm. either way, the words have barely left jeongguk’s lips before there’s a thump under the bed, the frame shaking just slightly. jeongguk realizes, then, that he’s never actually seen what happens—he’s usually two fingers deep in himself at this point, writhing on the bed and losing himself to the sensations that come soon afterward.
this time, he sees it—sees the first slick, black tentacle worm its way out from under his bed and curl up the side of it, sliding over the comforter toward the middle of the bed, where jeongguk should be. the second and third tentacles soon join it, creeping over the bed and searching for him, searching for their toy. it looks horrifying, if he’s being honest, but fascinating, too—the other three tentacles soon join the first three, grasping and curling on the bed and each other when they come up empty-handed, finding nothing but air.
then—hands. jeongguk sees arms reach out from the side of the bed, grabbing onto the frame before the rest of yoongi appears, crawling out from whatever hole he comes from. yoongi slides a little out from under the bed, and then—stops when he spots jeongguk on the chair, already watching him. the tentacles go slack.
after a brief moment of silence, yoongi says, “you’re in my chair.”
“you know, you always call me needy, but all it takes is one little moan and you literally come running,” says jeongguk, and then moans again, a little filthier, “fuck, yoongi-hyung, i need you so ba—” yoongi shoves one of his tentacles into jeongguk’s mouth, shooting across the room and effectively shutting him up. jeongguk chokes a little, prying the tentacle out of his mouth—and ending up with slick hands—before he sends a dark look to yoongi. he’s still in a bad mood, although some weight has already been lifted just from seeing yoongi, even though he’s now scowling as he gets to his feet, tentacles sliding off of the bed and pooling at his feet.
“why aren’t you naked?” asks yoongi, clearly confused. “why isn’t your dick out?”
“is that all you want me for, hyung?” asks jeongguk. “you just wanna stick your octopus appendages in my asshole?”
“i’m not an octopus,” yoongi snaps—and jeongguk remembers very clearly the first time he’d shown yoongi a picture of an octopus, and how offended yoongi had gotten that the earth creatures with tentacles were so horrendously ugly. he’d still been muttering about it when jeongguk summoned him days later. “and isn’t that all you want me for?”
and therein lies the problem—jeongguk pouts, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. the truth is that they didn’t ever really talk about it, didn’t make rules. jeongguk accidentally summoned yoongi the first time, promptly freaked out when this monster with tentacles had shown up in his bedroom, and then had somehow ended up being fucked by him anyway—something along the lines of you’re naked and hard, so we might as well. he’d assumed it would be a one-time thing until, the next time jeongguk tried to get off and he’d whined for someone, yoongi had shown up again—compelled, it seemed, by some invisible force, even though it’s still his choice to go.
yoongi just kept showing up, and jeongguk just kept letting him, until he started summoning yoongi on purpose. neither of them ever said anything about it only being sex, but he supposes it’s been months. he supposes when jeongguk started catching feelings for the monster under his bed, he should have said something, but now he’s in too deep and doesn’t know how to get back out of it. and yoongi is still standing beside his bed, clearly displeased with the situation.
“do you want me to fuck you or not?” asks yoongi.
“no,” says jeongguk immediately. “i mean, yes. i always want you to fuck me. but no, i don’t want you to fuck me right now.”
yoongi rolls his eyes, tentacles jerking a little. “then what do you want? i’m busy.”
jeongguk pouts a little harder. and then he says, “take me on a date.”
that’s it—he’s lonely. something uncomfortable grows within him every time he sees a happy couple, and he’s hit his limit now. he can’t be with yoongi, not like his friend and her boyfriend are together, but maybe he can pretend. maybe they can work it out. maybe jeongguk just wants to know what it would feel like, just wants someone to make him feel loved like that, even if it’s not real.
“no,” says yoongi.
“i’m not your boyfriend.”
“i’m lonely,” jeongguk practically shouts. “i’m lonely and everyone else has a boyfriend and they’re so happy and it sucks having to see it all the time and not being able to do anything about it and everyone always tells me, oh jeongguk, why don’t you just get a boyfriend, and how the fuck am i supposed to say i fucking can’t because i’m in love with my kind of friends with benefits tentacle monster who lives under my fucking bed?”
he’s met with silence. once jeongguk stops shouting, he realizes he may have made a mistake, and yoongi just stares at him. he can practically feel himself shrinking, at least until yoongi says, “sorry, you’re in what with me?”
“never mind,” says jeongguk, cheeks burning red as he gets up from the chair, hurrying toward yoongi and awkwardly stumbling over the tentacles on his floor as he does so. he grabs at yoongi’s shoulders, turning him toward the bed and trying to push him down. “it’s fine, i take it back. i don’t need you. you can go back home.” he tries to force yoongi onto his knees, hoping to push him back under the bed. yoongi isn’t having it, though—he twists, fighting off jeongguk’s hands as his tentacles get agitated, wrapping loosely around the both of them.
“goodbye, yoongi-hyung!” jeongguk chirps helplessly, giving him another shove toward the bed and then turning around, stepping over the tentacles and heading for the door as though it’ll solve the problem—but he feels something wrap around his wrist, tugging him backwards, and jeongguk stumbles with a yelp, turning back around to see one of yoongi’s tentacles wrapped around him, holding him in place. “hyung,” he mumbles. “let me go.”
it can’t be a surprise, is the thing—jeongguk has never been good at hiding his feelings. yoongi must have noticed when jeongguk’s need for him shifted from something purely sexual to something emotional, too, when jeongguk started asking him to stay, started asking for yoongi to cuddle him after they fucked. yoongi has spent too many afternoons wrapped up in blankets and talking or watching youtube videos to think that jeongguk only likes him as the tentacle monster who fucks him better than a human can.
which makes it worse, somehow. because it’s easy to pretend that yoongi doesn’t know if neither of them addresses it, but there’s no escaping it now—and that means yoongi rejecting him would hurt even worse, because they both know he’d be doing it with full knowledge of the situation.
or yoongi could tease, which he often does anyway. and that’s worse, too, if he makes light of the situation, pretending that it doesn’t mean anything when jeongguk is hung up on someone who isn’t even human. he should have known it would happen, but he’s still here, staring down at the tentacle wrapped around his wrist so that he doesn’t have to look at yoongi—yoongi, who only takes a semi-human form because jeongguk asks him to. yoongi, who comes every time jeongguk asks him to. yoongi, who stays every time jeongguk asks him to.
he expects that yoongi will force him to elaborate. jeongguk would rather take his clothes off and pretend this is just another normal summons than talk about his feelings, but—yoongi just says, quietly and so seemingly out of place that it takes jeongguk a second to understand it, “okay.”
jeongguk’s eyes snap upward, looking at yoongi. “what?”
“okay, jeongguk,” he says. “let’s go on a date.”
they go to the mall. in hindsight, it might not be the best spot for a date, especially one that is supposed to be romantic, but—every time jeongguk goes to the mall, it’s crawling with couples. and he wants to be like them, wants to blend in, wants to pretend that he and yoongi have been together for months so they don’t need the big romantic dates. they can just be.
yoongi, considering he’s a shapeshifter, just forces his tentacles to shrink back into his body. with one of jeongguk’s coats and a beanie, because it’s cold out, he looks like any other human, save for the mildly unimpressed look on his face when jeongguk tells him that they’re going to a place packed with humans. he can’t be out for long or he’ll start losing power to stay as a human, which means he’ll be forced to shift back into something that will cause a lot of panic, so. jeongguk pulls him out of the apartment, beaming the whole time.
jeongguk realizes, once they actually get to the mall, that this is the first time yoongi has been out and about in the human world. everything he knows of the human world has previously been confined to jeongguk’s bedroom and some select parts of the internet. he stares out at the world like he’s seeing it for the first time—which he is—and jeongguk can’t help giggling at him, giddy now that he’s on a date.
“what do humans usually do on dates?” yoongi asks him as they’re walking through the doors and he frowns at the nearest humans.
“um,” says jeongguk. “i guess it depends. they can do fun activities or go out for dinner or something like that. and talk a lot. oh, and they hold hands!” he beams as he reaches for yoongi’s hand, intertwining their fingers as yoongi looks down at them.
he frowns. “what’s the point?”
“it feels nice, hyung,” jeongguk says. “doesn’t it? and it shows everyone that we’re together. and also it’ll keep you from wandering off.”
“i’m not going to wander off,” yoongi grumbles, even as he seemingly gets distracted by the nearest store and his feet start to move in that direction. jeongguk tugs him back, grinning all sorts of fondly—and he shouldn’t be so endeared at the baby deer sort of thing that yoongi has going on, but it’s cute. and they’re holding hands. and jeongguk likes it very, very much.
they wander around the first floor of the mall for a while; jeongguk didn’t actually bring much money and he has no intention of actually buying anything, but it’s the act of it that matters. it’s having yoongi here that matters, out in the human world where he can pretend yoongi can stay. he drags yoongi into different clothing stores and makes him try different things on—ridiculous things, mostly, like brightly patterned shirts and leather pants. surprisingly, he doesn’t look so bad.
“if this is what people do on dates,” yoongi grumbles from the changing room when jeongguk has shoved a few more articles of clothing into his hands, “then i don’t know why anyone goes on them. i’m sweating.”
“i’ve never had anyone to force into outfits like this before,” grins jeongguk, clapping his hands together. “we should go look for hats and shoes next! oh, or we can go to one of those home décor places and pretend we’re shopping for a house.”
“sounds—fuck,” there’s a thump against the door, like yoongi has fallen over. “sounds riveting.”
“people do other stuff on dates too, you know,” says jeongguk after a moment, pouting a little. “other than holding hands and talking and just being with each other, although is the whole point. you’re supposed to enjoy spending time together.”
the door opens, revealing a disgruntled yoongi wearing what appears to be a garbage bag, although the worker said it was high fashion. “i’m enjoying this so much, can’t you tell,” he deadpans.
jeongguk giggles. “you look cute.”
“what else do they do on dates? can we please do that instead?”
“people kiss on dates,” says jeongguk, tilting his head a little. that’s it, too—yoongi fucks him, which is nice. but sometimes he just wants someone to kiss, someone to hold hands with. someone who doesn’t expect more. and yoongi narrows his eyes just a little, and then—suddenly there’s a tentacle unfurling from the bottom of the garbage bag/coat, snaking across the ground and wrapping around his arm. it tugs him out of his seat and into the changing room with yoongi so quickly that jeongguk can only gasp with surprise by the time he’s collided with yoongi, the door closing behind the both of them.
“hyung!” scolds jeongguk. “you can’t just show your tentacles here!”
“no one saw,” yoongi smirks, reaching out for jeongguk with his hands now; he grabs jeongguk’s chin and tilts his head downward, and that smirk is all jeongguk sees before yoongi kisses him. it’s not meant to be funny, but jeongguk giggles into it anyway—giddy at the idea of being able to do this with someone. it’s hardly on his romantic bucket list, but he’s thought about it before, thought about all of the silly parts of having a boyfriend. he cares less about the romantic dates, about getting to take someone home and proudly show off his boyfriend to his family.
he cares about this stuff—the domestic, cute things. holding someone’s hand, making out in the changing room of a store that is far too expensive for either of them. just having someone by his side, having someone to call his own.
that’s what he wants.
of course—he has to stop yoongi from getting a little too handsy, tentacles unfurling with no one to see and trying to creep under the hem of his sweater. he sternly tells yoongi that typically, people don’t fuck in changing rooms while on dates, and then scurries out to let yoongi take off the garbage bag. one of the store’s employees catches sight of him, staring from a few aisles over when he shuts the door behind him, and jeongguk flares bright red, glad when yoongi finally emerges and they hurry out of the store, hand in hand again.
yoongi’s not bad at pretending to be his boyfriend, letting jeongguk drag him from store to store and shove him into sunglasses, try skin care products (for free!), and skim through books jeongguk knows he’d never read. he forgets, for the most part, that yoongi isn’t actually human, though—at least until jeongguk tries to take him on the escalator and yoongi promptly stops, yanking jeongguk to a stop beside him.
“what?” asks jeongguk, turning to look at yoongi. “what’s wrong?”
“what is this,” yoongi frowns, staring down at the escalator with a hard gaze. “what’s going on? why is it moving?”
jeongguk glances at the escalator, then back to yoongi. “um—it’s called an escalator. they’re just moving stairs, hyung.”
“because people are too lazy to take the actual stairs,” says jeongguk, trying to tug yoongi forward a step. “c’mon, you’re not going to die.”
“what if my shoelace gets caught in the thingy?” asks yoongi. “or i trip? how do i know when i step onto it? the stairs just appear.”
“yoongi-hyung,” sighs jeongguk, noting that there are several people behind them, awkwardly trying to get around them and onto the escalator. “we’re blocking it. just—come on. i’ll hold your hand.”
“you’re already holding my hand.”
jeongguk flushes, almost regretting this whole thing; yoongi has been walking around with wide eyes the whole time, but he’s mostly not questioned anything about the human world. of course he’s choosing to question the fucking escalator while everyone else is trying to get on it, and jeongguk shuffles to the side, awkwardly apologizing as a few people squeeze past him and onto the escalator.
“see?” says jeongguk, gesturing to them. “it’s fine.”
yoongi stares at the escalator with a frown, and then he takes a small step forward. gingerly, he slides his foot over the metal, and then snatches it back when it gets too close to the edge. the next time, he actually steps forward again, and finally gets his foot on the moving part of the escalator; it’s with an almost offended gasp that one of his legs starts going up, but not the second, and jeongguk steps onto the stair beside him and tugs, forcing yoongi to step up beside him.
“that wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” asks jeongguk.
yoongi glares at the ground they’re leaving behind. “humans are so strange.”
“you’re telling me you don’t have anything like this in the monster world?”
“we can teleport, jeongguk,” scoffs yoongi, as though it’s obvious. “what use do we have for moving stairs?”
it’s kind of funny—although it makes jeongguk realize that he doesn’t really know much about the monster world. all he knows is that yoongi is a shapeshifter and doesn’t look like a human when he’s in the monster world, because humans only exist here. he knows that there are likely other portals between their worlds, but there’s one under his bed, which conveniently leads yoongi’s house. they don’t really do much talking when they’re together, honestly, considering jeongguk’s mouth is usually preoccupied with other things.
it gets him thinking, though, as he drags yoongi to the food court. that’s another couple thing he’s always wanted to do—share food. or steal food from his boyfriend, so he orders a massive cinnamon bun from one of the dessert stands and plops it down on a table between them, shoving a fork in yoongi’s hand and happily digging in.
yoongi frowns down at it. “this doesn’t look healthy,” he says.
“what do you normally eat?” asks jeongguk. “do you have like, monster cows and stuff that you make hamburgers out of?”
yoongi gives him a strange look, but he rips off a small piece of the treat anyway, regarding it. “oh, wait!” says jeongguk suddenly. “i should feed you. that’s what people do on dates.”
“i can feed myself, jeongguk.”
“but it’s cute, hyung. c’mon.” he sticks out his own fork, a small piece of the cinnamon bun stuck on the end. he waves it around in front of yoongi’s mouth, eyebrows rising. “open up.”
reluctantly, yoongi does—but the point is that he does, like he does with everything else when it comes to jeongguk. even if he’s slow to the uptake, he always gives in, and jeongguk takes that as a win, grinning as he sticks the piece of cinnamon bun in yoongi’s mouth and feeds him. yoongi makes a whole show of chewing and swallowing, and jeongguk reaches out to poke his nose as he says, “how cute. now feed me.” he opens his mouth wide, waiting for yoongi to feed him, too—and when he does, it’s with slightly pink cheeks as jeongguk makes sure to lick the extra icing off of the fork.
“do people really find this stuff fun?” asks yoongi once they’ve eaten half of the bun.
“what do you do for fun, then?” asks jeongguk, pouting a little. they could have gone to the park, even though it’s winter. they could have gone for dinner, although he doesn’t know what kind of food yoongi likes. this seemed like a good way to be a couple.
yoongi shrugs. “i dunno,” he says. “i have friends.”
“are they tentacle monsters, too?”
“i’m not a tentacle monster,” says yoongi. “i’m just—me.”
jeongguk rolls his eyes. “so they are tentacle monsters,” he says. “good to know. do you have a job?”
“and your job is…”
jeongguk sighs, putting his fork down. “you are insufferable, min yoongi. i don’t even know why you’re my boyfriend.”
“i’m not your boyfriend,” yoongi says, which—admittedly, kind of hurts a little. they’re on a date, aren’t they? it wouldn’t hurt to pretend a little harder, would it? yoongi must see how jeongguk’s face falls, though, because then he’s knocking their feet together under the table, reaching over to tap at the back of his hand. “sorry,” he says. “all of this stuff just puts me on edge. i’m not good with humans.”
“you’re good with me,” says jeongguk with a pout, looking down at where yoongi’s hand rests on his. and yoongi isn’t human, but it’s so easy to pretend. it’s easy to exist like this, to think that maybe they can continue to exist like this.
“you’re different.” yoongi curls his fingers around jeongguk’s. “i mean, it’s fun to fuck you. but i guess… i don’t mind the other stuff.” jeongguk peeks up at him, stomach flipping inside of him when he sees the blush on yoongi’s cheeks, the way he’s awkwardly rubbing his ear with his free hand. he’s embarrassed.
“yeah?” asks jeongguk.
“yeah,” says yoongi. “yeah, jeongguk-ah—maybe i wouldn’t mind going on dates with you if they didn’t involve so many other people all the time. and you didn’t put me in leather pants again, because those hurt.”
“so you do want to be my boyfriend?”
“i didn’t say that,” yoongi says immediately, eyes meeting. “i just said i wouldn’t mind going on dates.”
“boyfriends go on dates.”
yoongi’s gaze is firm. but jeongguk doesn’t shrink from it, just feels himself grinning—and it’s far from a love confession, but what else can he expect? he doesn’t want yoongi to be with him every second of the day. maybe he just wants yoongi to hang out with him without trying to get in his pants all of the time. maybe he wants to call on yoongi without expecting anything out of it. maybe he wants yoongi to just show up without having to be summoned in the first place.
the mall food court might not be the best place for that conversation, though.
“we can go somewhere that has less people,” says jeongguk. “you like movies, right?”
yoongi’s eyes narrow. “if it’s going to involve a fish that turns into a human, i’m not watching it.”
“ponyo is a great movie, shut up. but no, i was thinking… spider-man?”
“so it’s a spider that turns into a human.”
“actually, it’s a human that turns into a spider. kind of.”
yoongi doesn’t seem convinced. jeongguk takes him to the theatre anyway, because he knows yoongi does like movies—even if he complains about the selection, he always watches jeongguk’s movies with rapt attention, asking countless questions to understand the story better. he has to wonder what kind of entertainment the monster world has if they don’t have movies, but he’s not going to complain when he shuffles into the theatre and chooses two seats at the back, away from anyone else in the theatre. it’s a wednesday afternoon so it’s remarkably empty, only a few other couples and someone toting three children entering the theatre and choosing seats much closer to the front.
jeongguk sits with a massive bag of popcorn between them, excitedly watching the previews as he munches on the snack. he’s been wanting to watch this movie for weeks, but hasn’t had a chance to see it—and people go on movie dates all the time, so it’s perfect. halfway through the previews, he feels yoongi gently take his hand, fingers dancing over jeongguk’s palm before they settle between his own fingers, and jeongguk feels something bloom inside of him. he can’t focus on the rest of the previews, too busy feeling where their hands are connected, where yoongi chose to connect them—and it’s silly, really, that jeongguk regularly takes two of yoongi’s tentacles up his ass, but holding hands makes him shy.
despite his excitement and hope that yoongi will be just as interested in the movie, it only takes about twenty minutes for yoongi to get bored. he goes from asking constant questions about the movie to going uncharacteristically quiet—maybe because jeongguk tells him that people don’t talk in movie theatres unless they want to get in trouble. just as the action is beginning to pick up, jeongguk’s attention rapt on the screen, yoongi leans over.
“this isn’t as fun when i can’t talk to you,” says yoongi quietly.
“hush,” says jeongguk. “this part is the best.”
“you said that about the last scene.”
“hyung, i’m gonna miss it.” he eats another handful of popcorn, eyes wide as he watches the action on the screen. he thinks, misguidedly, that his berating of yoongi will actually work, and then yoongi leans even more over the armrest between them and plants a kiss on the side of jeongguk’s neck.
and jeongguk—physically startles, surprised by the wet touch as his knees jerk, and the half-full bag of popcorn goes tumbling ceremoniously off of his lap. it lands with a dull thud, to which jeongguk regards the spilled bag with a pout.
“hyung,” he says, although yoongi doesn’t seem bothered by the spilled popcorn as he kisses jeongguk’s neck again, and then again, with a little more purpose. jeongguk’s cheeks already burn brightly red, throwing his gaze toward the other few people in the theatre—they’re all much closer to the screen, though, and the music is loud enough that they can’t hear anything, but still. still.
“yoongi-hyung,” jeongguk tries again, leaning away from yoongi and twisting in his seat to look at him. “you can’t do that.”
“why not?” asks yoongi. “it’s dark and no one is paying attention to us. i’m bored.”
“you’re supposed to watch the movie. i paid for your ticket.”
“you said people kiss on dates.”
jeongguk narrows his eyes. he did say that, but he doesn’t like yoongi trying to turn his own logic back on him. “there are places where it is inappropriate to kiss on dates,” he whispers, glancing sideways at the screen; he’s missing the movie. “other people are generally less receptive to public displays of affection. can’t you just wait until we get home?”
“can we go home now?”
“you said you’d take me on a date,” huffs jeongguk, a little harder. “and this is the date. you said that you don’t mind doing things other than fucking me and now you can’t even keep it in your pants for twenty minutes.” across the theatre, the young mother turns around and gives a loud shushing noise, and jeongguk shrinks into his seat as embarrassment flares up inside of him. yoongi, because he either has no shame or just doesn’t care, just chuckles, tugging on jeongguk’s hand.
“fine,” he says, and jeongguk quickly goes back to watching the movie. it only lasts for another ten minutes, though, befotr yoongi is trying to pay attention to him again—it starts with his thumb rubbing over jeongguk’s knuckles, innocent. and then he’s leaning over to jeongguk again under the pretense of whispering a few more confused questions about the movie. when jeongguk half-heartedly answers, yoongi doesn’t move back to his own seat, just noses under jeongguk’s ear a few times before planting a gentle kiss there. this time, jeongguk doesn’t jerk away, too invested in the movie. besides, yoongi said he’d be good.
but yoongi, as usual, isn’t. yoongi likes to be mean at the best of times, likes to make jeongguk cry if jeongguk asks for it. he’s not from the human world, so anything he does here likely won’t have consequences for him—and maybe that’s what leads to it: to yoongi kissing at his neck with more purpose now, making jeongguk shrink a little from the attention as he resolutely attempts to keep his attention on the movie rather than giving in.
the truth is that it does feel good—he always likes when yoongi’s attention is on him. he just likes yoongi period. and more than that, there’s something oddly thrilling about being in a dark movie theatre with yoongi kissing down his neck, sucking marks into his skin that jeongguk will have to cover up tomorrow. his movie dates have always been on his own previously, where he could enjoy the movie all he wants. but maybe he’s thought about it before—having a boyfriend in an empty theatre, getting off in the back row and giggling about it later, having gotten away with indecent acts.
that’s why, when he feels one of yoongi’s tentacles slowly curling up his leg, jeongguk doesn’t say anything. his hand tightens on yoongi’s, eyes watching the screen but not seeing much as the tentacle slides up and up, worming up his thigh and curling over it. it tugs just a little, opening jeongguk’s legs and he gives a quiet gasp; he feels yoongi smirk into his neck. a second tentacle joins the first, sliding up his other leg, but this one doesn’t stop there—it settles instead on his groin, pressing a little as jeongguk gasps again, hips bucking up involuntarily.
yoongi chuckles into his neck, pulling back enough to lift his mouth to jeongguk’s ear, hot breath ghosting over it when he murmurs, “sure you wanna watch the movie?”
“hyung,” breathes jeongguk, hating how whiny his voice is already. he is trying to watch the movie, but he can’t focus on the screen as the tentacle heavy in his lap begins to stroke at jeongguk’s cock through his jeans. he bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself from making any noises, eyes skirting to the others in the theatre; if they could hear him whispering, there’s no way they won’t hear him moaning. but he’s never been very good at keeping quiet.
and yoongi knows that. yoongi knows that, which is why he’s choosing to tease jeongguk now, rather than waiting. he knows exactly what he’s doing, and jeongguk lets his head fall back against the seat as the tentacle rubs insistently at him, jeongguk’s cock growing harder within the confines of his jeans.
“i’ll stop if you want me to,” says yoongi after a second, a little more serious. “you know that, right?’
“y-yeah,” stutters jeongguk quietly, trying to ignore how hot he already feels just from that little attention. the truth is that it’s been a few weeks since he’s last seen yoongi, too busy for anything, and he’s been aching for it, even before this—and as much as he just wants to be with yoongi without the sex, he knows he’s too weak for it. he lets out a tiny moan when the tentacle pays special attention to the head of jeongguk’s cock, sensitive even through his jeans, and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, biting down on the fabric of his sleeve.
yoongi kisses below his ear again. “do you want me to stop?”
jeongguk thinks about yoongi letting go of him, thinks about having to sit through the rest of the movie with a hard cock and yoongi sitting right there, and lets out a whimper as he shakes his head. there’s that thrill again, at the thought—yoongi’s going to get him off in a movie theatre while they’re watching an animated movie about superheroes. there’s something inordinately arousing about it, and he sinks a little in the seat, keeping his hand shoved to his mouth.
“gotta be quiet then, baby,” whispers yoongi. “think you can do that for me? think you can be quiet for hyung?”
jeongguk nods his head quickly, hand still holding yoongi’s in a vice grip. yoongi gets a hand on his chin, turning his face toward yoongi—even in the darkness of the movie theatre, he sees the mischievous spark in yoongi’s eyes, pleased with himself for the little antic. he’d probably been planning something like this from the start, the absolute bastard. despite his previous protests, jeongguk can’t help thinking that he’s suddenly very on board with the idea.
yoongi tugs jeongguk’s hand away from his mouth only to kiss him, swallowing down the next whimper that jeongguk gives when he finally has yoongi’s lips on him as the tentacle on his cock rubs a little harder, faster. he’s already breathless, even more so when a third tentacle unravels from under yoongi’s clothing and sneaks up jeongguk’s side to his neck, wrapping around his throat a few times. he hiccups, the action going straight to his head as he breaks away just enough, trying to keep his noises under control as he whispers, “more, please.”
with two tentacles holding his legs open and a third wrapped around his throat plus two more that quickly wrap around jeongguk’s arms on the arm rests to trap him there, it’s hard for jeongguk to move; it leaves him at the mercy of yoongi as he placates jeongguk with another kiss to the lips and then reaches down to open the button on jeongguk’s jeans and pull his cock out. jeongguk can’t help gasping as yoongi gets his hand around jeongguk’s cock, the feeling of skin on skin both making the ache worse and better, but he’s too loud—the tentacle around his neck moves just enough to slide its tip into jeongguk’s mouth, effectively silencing him as he clamps his lips around it.
yoongi pumps at his cock a few times, too dry with his hand, and jeongguk whines again, just loudly enough for yoongi to hear. yoongi throws him a warning look, removes his hand—which is worse than a dry slide—and then has the audacity to say, “this part looks interesting. i think i’m gonna watch.”
he turns back to the screen, leaving jeongguk high and dry—or hard and desperate—as he indeed goes back to watching the movie. and jeongguk knows it’s bullshit, because yoongi hasn’t been paying attention, so he doesn’t even understand what’s happening. he’s just being mean, and jeongguk whines again, a little louder. yoongi doesn’t look at him. he groans, the tentacle around his neck shoving itself a little further into his mouth as though that’s supposed to placate him, and he starts squirming, trying to get yoongi’s attention on him again.
“stop making so much noise,” whispers yoongi. “they’re going to notice.” he tries to imagine what kind of reaction they’d get if someone turned around and saw jeongguk half wrapped up in tentacles, his hard cock pulled out and flush against the fabric of his sweater. he bites it down, then, even though the desperation mounts with each passing second. when he’s on the verge of tears, not knowing how to make yoongi listen, yoongi glances over at him—catches sight of his teary eyes, leg practically vibrating.
“aw, baby,” he murmurs, thumbing at the corner of jeongguk’s eye. “something the matter? you told me this isn’t what people do on dates, so i’m just trying to play by your rules.” and that, of course, is what jeongguk realizes as his mistake—there are no rules between them, at least not ones that jeongguk can make. he’s always entirely under yoongi’s control, even when they’re in situations yoongi is unfamiliar with. jeongguk is always going to do whatever yoongi wants, always going to beg for him. maybe they can’t be in a relationship because of that simple fact.
or maybe yoongi just wants to remind jeongguk that no matter what, he has to understand that he can’t tame yoongi, can’t control him. jeongguk handed over the reins when they started doing this in the first place, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to take them back.
and jeongguk—is perfectly fine with that. he whines again, trying to buck his hips up against the tentacles wrapped around his thighs, searching for any friction. the tentacle in his mouth finally recedes, popping out with strings of spit and slick connecting it and jeongguk’s lips, and he rasps out a, “please, hyung. ah—i just—i’ll do whatever you want. i don’t wanna set the rules.”
yoongi pauses at that, tilting his head. “that’s what i like to hear,” he says, smirking. jeongguk is reminded, not for the first time, that yoongi is a monster. he works differently from a human, not only because he’s a shapeshifter and has tentacles and lives in an entirely different realm. he operates differently, understands that he has the power over jeongguk and isn’t afraid to exercise it. and jeongguk, because he’s gone and fallen in love, is all too willing to let yoongi do whatever he wants, as long as he has this—and he has no idea what that’s going to look like in the future, or if they even have a future, but he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care, as long as yoongi gets a fucking hand on his dick.
yoongi doesn’t, though—instead, he tugs jeongguk in again and kisses him harder, one hand snaking around to hold the back of his head. his fingers curl into jeongguk’s hair, tightening a little as jeongguk whimpers. instead, the sixth and final tentacle joins the first five, and jeongguk doesn’t realize until it wraps loosely around his cock, making him jerk in the seat. it settles the ache within him, what he’s been wanting this whole time, and he sighs into the kiss as he finally gets some friction.
the tentacle is teasing, almost, gentle—it strokes jeongguk carefully, slowly at first, but jeongguk is in no position to complain. the sounds of the movie rage on around them, covering jeongguk’s little whimpers and moans as yoongi strokes him, licking into his mouth at the same time. he’s overwhelmed from the beginning, slowly grinding his hips up into the grip the tentacle has on his cock. it picks up speed, stroking him properly now as pre-come beads and begins to drool down jeongguk’s cock, only adding to the almost obscene amount of slick already there.
yoongi kisses him and kisses him—keeps a tight grip on his hair, holding him in place, and jeongguk hates how much he likes it. maybe it’s the fact that he always likes when yoongi touches him, or maybe it’s the fact that they’re in public. either way, he feels himself getting worked up far too quickly, trying to keep himself from moaning too loudly. but then he feels the tentacle around his neck unfurl and dive down past his cock, instead, worming its way into his jeans until it presses against his rim.
jeongguk lets out something akin to a choked shout just as the movie cuts to an entirely silent scene and his voice echoes through the theatre. he gasps, shocked out of his pleasure when he turns toward the screen and fearfully hopes not to see anyone looking back at him. for a second, he just pants, yoongi having stopped the movement of his tentacles—but no one turns to look at them. it’s still dark, no one catching them in the act and dragging them to a police station, but jeongguk doesn’t relax.
“i told you to be quiet, baby,” whispers yoongi against the side of his face. “we can’t play if you’re gonna be bad.”
“ngh, no,” jeongguk whimpers, breathing heavily. “m’sorry hyung, please—”
yoongi chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “just because you’re so cute when you beg…”
he’s too high strung from the attention on him, and as he stares at the screen and waits for the sound to pick up, he feels the tentacle around his cock slowly begin to stroke him again. jeongguk bites down on his lip, yoongi leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, to the side of his mouth, hand still tight in his hair. slowly, the tentacle works up a rhythm again, pulsing around him as it strokes and curls, playing with the head of his cock.
the one at his rim stays, too, pushing in just enough to have jeongguk squirming in his seat for more, arousal already coiling tightly in his stomach. jeongguk turns his face to yoongi again, capturing his lips in a hot and sloppy kiss. yoongi’s tentacles stroke him faster and faster until jeongguk is tensing in his seat, breaking their kiss to breathe out a, “hyung—hyung, gonna come.”
“good boy,” breathes yoongi, and it’s all the permission jeongguk needs before he’s coming, spilling over the tentacle still wrapped around his cock, stroking him through the orgasm. he throws his head back and bites down on his lip so hard that he feels himself tear the skin, unable to stop the quiet moan that leaves him anyway, but no one catches them. no one cares.
the tentacle around his cock unravels itself and then yoongi lifts it to jeongguk’s face, forcing him to see where his come has spilled onto it. he swallows, and then opens his mouth obediently, without even having to be asked. yoongi slips the end of the tentacle into his mouth, shoving it down just until it brushes against the back of jeongguk’s throat, and he almost gags but lasts through it, sucking at the end of the tentacle until yoongi pulls it back out clean.
yoongi tucks him back into his jeans, the tentacles unraveling from around jeongguk’s limbs and slinking back under yoongi’s clothing. and yoongi kisses him again, even as he sags into the seat, boneless. “you’re cute,” yoongi tells him. “i’d go on a million dates with you if this is how they all end.” jeongguk snorts, staring up at the ceiling, thinking that he has to agree.
they still have half of the movie to watch.
yoongi fucks him properly when they get home later, after the movie finally ends and jeongguk awkwardly waits for the other people to leave the theatre, decidedly not looking at them lest they look back and they know. they get back to jeongguk’s apartment without any delay or problem with yoongi not understanding the human world, and it seems inevitable, given the prelude in the theatre that somehow left jeongguk wanting more.
and after, when jeongguk has pouted at yoongi and asked him to stay, and when yoongi rolls his eyes like it’s a chore but slips into bed beside him and cuddles him, jeongguk basks in it for a time. they went on a date, even if it was kind of weird and not romantic and yoongi was asking him stupid questions about the human world the whole time. but it was a date. and jeongguk has never felt so loved in his entire life, lying here wrapped up in yoongi’s arms, thinking back on the day.
quietly, he asks, “can we do this again?”
“me jerking you off in theatres?”
“maybe… not quite that,” says jeongguk, blushing at the memory. “not that i didn’t like it. but i mean—the dates and stuff. just us being together without having to fuck all the time.”
yoongi gives a little sigh. “you want me to be your boyfriend, don’t you?”
“it wouldn’t be that bad, would it?” asks jeongguk, but he doesn’t turn to look at yoongi, too embarrassed to say it while looking him in the eye. “i know you’re not human and i’m not a tentacle monster and we live in different worlds and we can’t be together all the time, but i—hyung, i really do like you. i like you as more than just someone who fucks me. we can make it work, right?”
he’s afraid of the answer—afraid that spending the day together has just made yoongi realize that it’s a very bad idea. but yoongi’s hand is on his forehead, gently moving through his hair. he traces a finger over jeongguk’s eyebrow, his cheekbone, the shell of his ear. he says, “i don’t know, jeongguk.”
“we can try though, right?” asks jeongguk, finally lifting his head from yoongi’s chest. he pouts, watching yoongi. “you can take me to the monster world. we don’t have to go out in public ever again if you don’t want. i don’t mind. i just—wanna be with you.”
yoongi could say no. yoongi could say no and then never show up here again, no matter how many times jeongguk calls for him. but then yoongi grins, just a little, and he says, “yeah, alright. i have no idea how this is going to work, but i think i want to be with you, too.”
jeongguk’s grin is wide—“hyung,” he says, warm, stretching up to give him a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “you’re so cute. my cute tentacle monster boyfriend.”
“you know i don’t really like when you call me that, right?”
“my cute octopus boyfriend?”
“jeongguk.” he giggles, rolling away as yoongi reaches for him, trying to tickle him, and maybe it’s not really a conventional relationship, but jeongguk doesn’t mind.
(and later, when jeongguk has fallen asleep wrapped up in yoongi and then wakes up the next morning alone—because yoongi can’t stay, and will probably never be able to—he finds a note stuck to his forehead. sleepily, a little grumpily, he peels the post-it note off of his skin and turns it over, squinting at it.
don’t miss me too much, it says. i’m just under your bed. it’s signed with a poor drawing of an octopus, although it makes something squeeze inside of jeongguk’s chest. and then—i’m actually curious about the spider movie, though. next date idea: more watching, less tentacles? jeongguk giggles.
he really doesn’t mind at all.)