Taehyung freezes. His palms have gone sweaty, and he’s almost certain he can feel his pupils dilate. He’d been mid-sentence, and if he wasn’t going through a revelatory experience he’s sure he’d be able to muster up some annoyance at Jungkook taking a solid ten seconds to realise he’s stopped talking to ask, “You all good?”
For a moment Taehyung wonders if he’s been struck dumb. He tries to get his mouth working again, his tongue thick and heavy. He nods his head towards the front of the class. Jungkook follows his gaze, his eyes widening in understanding. “Namjoon?”
“Is that his-“ Taehyung clears his throat, “name?”
“You wanna know the first thing I ever said to him?”
Taehyung nods, he thinks.
Jungkook winces, before saying in a hushed voice, “Oh wow, thighs!”
Taehyung chokes back a laugh, “What?!”
“Yeah. If I hadn’t met Jin-hyung, I don’t know how I would’ve recovered.” Jungkook cricks his neck, as he observes absently, “It’s amazing how having a boyfriend with no morals really builds up your tolerance for embarrassment.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung notes drily, “lucky for some.” His eyes drift to the front of the studio again. “So... who is he? Is he taking this class? Like as the boss?”
“I feel like it goes against the concept of yoga to have a boss, but yeah, he’s the one who tells us what to do.”
“God I hope so,” Taehyung mutters.
Jungkook snorts. “Keep it in your pants. If those count as pants.”
“I’ll have you know that skorts are very fashion, and I made them this short because I take hot yoga very seriously.”
“Your dick’s gonna fall out in three poses.”
“Maybe Namjoon will put it back for me.” Taehyung sighs.
“Don’t ‘dude’ me, thank you.”
Jungkook steps into Taehyung’s space, dropping his voice and puffing out his chest, “I’ll ‘dude’ you if I wanna ‘dude’ you, dude.”
“Oh, you’re gonna dude me, dude?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna dude you-"
A couple of claps interrupt them.
“Folks! He said folks! He’s so cute.” Taehyung hisses at Jungkook, who slaps a hand over his mouth in response.
“You guys alright back there?” Namjoon calls, a concerned look on his round, kind, handsome, tanned, soft-looking face. Taehyung is enraptured, and tries to reply through Jungkook’s palm, who grimaces in response.
“Yeah, we’re good! Sorry!” Jungkook replies, wiping his hand on his pants.
“Alright!” Namjoon claps again, “so we’re gonna start with some gentle warm up poses, does everyone know the Downward Dog?”
Taehyung eagerly opens his mouth to reply, before Jungkook silences him with a threatening glance.
“OK team! Follow me!”
45 minutes later, they’ve just finished warming down and Taehyung is aching in places he isn’t accustomed to aching. It turns out hot yoga is hard?
Meanwhile, Jungkook is obnoxiously shaking out his limbs next to him, like someone who’s played sports before.
“We get it,” Taehyung grumbles under his breath. His body isn’t the only thing aching, his ego might be too. Attempting the Eagle Pose on his first go was probably a bit adventurous, but it had its benefits - Namjoon’s conscientiousness meant he was thorough when checking for bumps and bruises.
Wiping sweat from behind his knees, he asks Jungkook for a ride, only to be denied.
“What?! But how am I meant to get home?”
“Uh… how did you get here?”
Taehyung crosses his arms, “I’m struggling to see what that’s got to do with it.”
“I was gonna say hey to Joon, see if he wanted to get coffee with me and Jin. Or tea. Namjoon’s a tea guy. Did you…” Jungkook takes in Taehyung’s present vibe, sweaty knees and all, and slowly asks, “want to come?”
“Yes I want to come! Obviously I want to come! Should I come, now that’s another question. How into Sweaty Guys is Namjoon?”
“Is that a type of guy?” Jungkook narrows his eyes, “You’re saying that like it’s something I should know.”
Taehyung blinks at him, disbelievingly. A flushing Jungkook protests, “You know I’m new to this whole... queer-community-designation thing! I knew my flash cards weren’t thorough enough.” He mutters.
“Don’t worry about it!” Taehyung dismisses, starting to cross the room towards Namjoon, ruffling his own hair as he goes. “I’m off to catch me a Giant Squid.”
“That’s not a real one!” Jungkook yells after him. “I know that’s not a real one! Taehyung! That’s not a real one, right?”
U ever hear of gay giant squids
Who am i 2 u
It turns out Namjoon is a tea guy, but Taehyung hasn’t been able to get a read on how he feels about Sweaty Guys yet. Ever since Seokjin arrived, he and Jungkook have been dominating the conversation, with Namjoon mostly laughing. It’s a nice laugh, so Taehyung can’t be that mad, but it still means that as soon as Seokjin gets up to go the bathroom and Jungkook follows him, he leans across the table conspiratorially to properly introduce himself.
“Taehyung.” He says, holding out his hand.
Namjoon takes it, a crinkle in his brow. “I… know?” He asks, smile growing. Right, Taehyung thinks, they’ve been sitting here for about 30 minutes. And he was in his class. Jungkook introduced them.
“I’m Namjoon.” He says, like he knows Taehyung knows but also like the idea of someone retaining his name in their head like he’s of any vague importance is morally repugnant and he’d probably introduce himself to his own mother.
Taehyung shakes his hand vigorously, bumping it into the table. “I know!”
They stare at each other, until Taehyung realises that Namjoon’s hand has gone slightly lax in his, like it’s waiting to be kissed like an old-timey princess. He almost does it, too, except in the split second of his realisation, his own hand relaxes and Namjoon’s retreats across the table to fiddle with his glass. His ears are pink. It’s adorable. Taehyung watches Namjoon’s long fingers tap against the sides, until he starts tracing his finger up and down through the condensation, leaving the tip wet and shiny. Something lodges itself in Taehyung’s throat, as he grasps for his own glass desperately, chugging down a mouthful.
“So!” He exclaims.
Namjoon looks up from the table expectantly, forcing Taehyung to realise that he has no idea what to say next.
“Um.” He stalls, before leaping onto the first question that comes into his head and planting his palms firmly on the table, “What, uh...what are the three best things that have happened to you this week?”
Namjoon straightens in his chair, putting on what Taehyung is confident is his Thinking Face. He’s glad Namjoon’s taking it seriously.
“Best things?” Namjoon asks, face scrunched.
“Yeah,” Taehyung hurries to clarify, “It doesn’t have to be, like, you went to the moon or found a billion won on the sidewalk. But if you did do either of those things, you’re obliged to tell me and also, can I borrow -“
“I had a really good lunch yesterday?” Namjoon offers.
Taehyung takes in the question of his eyebrows, a little drop of delight in his chest. He nods decisively, leans forward on his elbows and encourages, “Tell me everything.”
Namjoon’s face clears as he pushes himself back from the table, obviously a bit overcome with the memory. A good lunch does that to you, Taehyung can appreciate that. He can also appreciate the shadows on Namjoon’s collarbones, the dry skin that’s two seconds from coming off his bottom lip. As Namjoon starts to talk about just how incredible the jigae he’d bought was, how the meat was perfectly tender and the broth rich, Taehyung feels that little drop of delight spread, like cordial in water when he pours it the wrong way round just to watch.
And as Namjoon continues, talking about how the jigae had fixed a semi-shitty day (he’d missed his bus, been late to his other part-time job, the strap on his bag had snapped and all his shit had spilled everywhere in the foyer and not one of those jerks had tried to help, honestly it had been weird, he’d never experienced the bystander effect in action and it’s not like anyone had been murdered, it was just, like, paper, and a tablet with a newly-cracked screen-) and then apologises for going on a tangent, laughing self-consciously and fingers pulling at his bottom lip, Taehyung can’t help but reach across the table and grab his unoccupied hand and say, with his whole chest, “No, I like it”.
That’s when Namjoon blinks, looks down at their joined hands and watches his thumb lift up to tap once, twice on the back of Taehyung’s before sheepishly withdrawing to the other side of the table.
That’s when Taehyung’s whole body says ‘well, I guess that’s that.’
U ever see ur life flash before ur eyes in a pair of leggings
Like, my life, as a concept, is wearing leggings?
DON’T full stop ME.
Taehyung isn’t quite sure what to do with this new reality. He feels so certain that Namjoon’s meant to be something, but it’s never happened quite this quickly before. With Jimin, maybe, but they’re Taehyung and Jimin, and that’s a whole thing. They have t-shirts.
Normally, he’d know someone a bit more in the specifics, not just a general sense of ‘yes please, may I,’ so he’s undecided as to how to proceed. One thing’s sure as shit certain, he’s going back to yoga.
When he announces this to Jungkook the next day, he gets a wrinkled nose and an almost-glare in response.
“Are you just doing this because you want to fuck Namjoon?”
“Close. I’m doing this because I want to fuck Namjoon and also share part of my soul with him. Possibly raise livestock together.”
“Oh, well that’s way better.” He scoffs, standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen.
“Personally,” Taehyung says loudly at Jungkook’s retreating back, “I don’t see anything wrong with either option, so I’m not sure what your problem is.”
Jungkook stops in his tracks and whirls around, “This is how you stole Jimin off me! You came to my massage class and then fucked the tutor! Jimin!”
Taehyung splutters a response, “Stole Jimin?!? You literally had a sleepover last night! I made you popcorn! And you had a boyfriend! Have a boyfriend!”
“That is not the point!” Jungkook’s arms are crossed, mouth lemon-tight.
“If you wanted to be invited-”
“I don’t want to have a threesome with you and Jimin!”
“I’m just saying-”
“Lalalalala!” Jungkook’s singing, hands over his ears as he walks into the kitchen.
“So can I come to yoga or not?” Taehyung hollers after him. “Is that a yes? Jungkook, is that a yes? If you don’t say anything for five seconds I’m assuming it’s a yes!”
One, two, three,
“Thanks Kook! Love you!”
Would u have had a threesome with me n tae
sorry this isnt jungkook he’s lost his phone sorry for the confusion goodbye
On his second trip, Taehyung is armed with a pair of leggings of his own. They’re teal and purple, a swirl effect that’d screamed at him from the rack at the thrift store he tries to visit three times a week (because he’s always on the lookout for a bargain). When Jungkook’d seen him in them for the first time, his eyes had bugged out of his head, which Taehyung took to be a very positive sign. When Yoongi had seen him he’d tried to suffocate himself with a cushion, which Taehyung thought was even better.
Dropping his bag on one of the benches running down the sides of the changing room, he strides through the door and down the corridor to the studio entrance. If he wasn’t going to hot yoga solely for the purpose of Seduction, he’d probably feel slightly guilty about being five minutes late. As it is, it means all eyes are on him as he plants himself in the doorway, legs akimbo and arms above his head in a stretch. Or, they would be, if Namjoon wasn’t demonstrating something he announced from between his thighs as the ‘Dandayamana-Bibhaktapada-Paschimotthanasana’, or ‘Standing Separate Leg Stretching Pose’.
With his legs over a metre apart, torso fully bent and head touching the ground, Namjoon was a vision. Taehyung, on the other hand, was an earthworm, feeling the sun on his slimy skin for the first time, but also like he’d been picked up by a bird, eaten, and then regurgitated for its little bird babies to feast on. He felt like the Virgin Mary in that one painting he’d studied, when Gabriel came down and told her she’d be having a baby without fucking but more importantly, Gabriel was super hot. Taehyung felt like someone had put a bokeh filter on his eyeballs but instead of the usual hearts it was Namjoon’s vividly outlined buttcheeks. Taehyung felt - Taehyung felt a lot, except for his feet as he made his way to Jungkook’s side, and laid out his mat. He wasn’t entirely sure if they were still attached.
Jungkook threw him an approximation of a glare, hissing “You’re late!”
Taehyung nodded. He was.
Jungkook faltered, readjusting the positioning of his feet as he slowly lowered himself to match Namjoon’s example. “I’m not going to sit next to you in class if you’re late again!”
Taehyung pouts, joining Jungkook between his thighs. He knew Jungkook was a teacher’s pet but he did remember they were paying for the class, right?
“You do remember we’re paying for this class, right?” Taehyung asks.
A flurry of hisses are shot in their direction, presumably to shut them up. Slightly put out, a pouting Taehyung rights himself. He’s never been a fan of shushers. It doesn’t appear Namjoon is either, judging by the amused and possibly apologetic glance he sends in Taehyung’s direction, before his gaze lowers and eyebrows rise sharply.
Taehyung starts to count under his breath, and makes it to five before Namjoon drags his eyes back upwards. Taehyung has a sunny grin and cheery finger-waggle waiting - although it doesn’t get much of a response past a throat-clearing and jagged nod. Disappointed, Taehyung flings himself back into ‘Standing Separate Leg Stretching Pose’, or something near it judging by Jungkook’s muffled snort. Taehyung reaches out one hand, and firmly shoves him over.
Class sure happened today.
Is the cute boy back
Is he wearing a skort again
May i remind u in case of emergencies mouth 2 mouth is totally acceptable
How would that even
Never one to miss an opening, once class is over and the majority of the students have vacated the studio, Taehyung makes his way up to where Namjoon is doing something on his phone.
“Hello!” he says, bright and loud and apparently shaving a solid six months off Namjoon’s life expectancy.
“Jesus fuck!” Namjoon yelps, his hand coming to clutch one (gently curved) pec.
Taking a short step backwards, Taehyung rushes an apology before Namjoon interrupts him.
“No, it’s fine! Sorry, I was just… really into my phone.”
“Sure.” Taehyung nods agreeably, rocking back on his heels.
Namjoon licks his bottom lip. Taehyung isn’t sure if transfixed is quite the word to describe his current state, but he’d probably have to Naver to find a better one.
Namjoon clears his throat, asking “did you… need something?”
“I mean, yes! Do you offer... one on one sessions?”
Namjoon’s brow furrows exponentially with each following sentence. “Is the class size an issue? It’s a pretty popular class, but I’m trying to make sure I get round everyone. No one's ever… needed a one on one session before - I’m sorry if you’re not feeling like you’re getting enough help! Maybe I can…no.” He shakes his head, talking to himself, “No, I’ll talk to Hobi. Yeah.” Looking back at Taehyung, he reassures him, “I think you’re doing fine for having taken, what, two sessions? Um, but no, no I don’t. Offer private classes.” By the time he’s stopped talking his forehead is a mess of crinkles, and Taehyung is entirely sure he’s not laying it on thick enough but charmed enough not to care.
“Well,” He claps his hands, “that’s a shame. I was sure you’d be able to show me some…” he takes a step towards Namjoon and lowers his voice sexily, like the Phantom of the Opera, “extra special moves.”
There’s a thrill of success in his chest as he watches a flush rise in his cheeks and Taehyung sends up thanks to Michael Crawford. Namjoon’s mouth opens, and lets out a long, dry rasp, before coughing furiously. Taehyung leaps to his aid only to be batted away, as Namjoon squeaks, “I don’t - that is… I, uh, no more moves. These are... all the moves! No special ones, definitely not extra special, not like, a hidden menu or anything, just plain old yoga! Hot yoga!” He laughs, loud and wonky, “Technically, I mean, like, it’s hot, but it’s not like, hot hot, it’s meant to be - we raise the temperature on purpose, in a science, like, it’s very by the book, book-mandated sweating! Because it’s hot. No other reason I’m sweating. Am I sweating?” He lifts up his arms to flap some air around, like he’s about to do the Chicken Dance, “Are you? Is it hot in here? You’re hot. I mean, technically. Scientifically. You must be, because it is hot, not you, hah! I am, too, it’s fine. No worries. It’s fine. Fine! What? No.”
The one step back Namjoon takes as his words stumble to a halt leaves him pressed up against the mirror, which almost immediately fogs up in an aura around him. It’s the prettiest of pictures, and one Taehyung knows he’ll add to his mental viewmaster.
He also knows that Namjoon looks like he might barf any second, which is what tips Taehyung off that maybe he’d come on too strong. Maybe Namjoon wasn’t flustered in a sexy way, maybe he was flustered in an uncomfortable way. Maybe Michael Crawford could go fuck himself. Maybe - Oh my God.
“Oh my God,” Taehyung shouts, a little panicked.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! That was - I shouldn’t - you’re hot! Sweaty! Water! Do you want some? Or not - you don’t have to have any if you don’t want? That is very much your choice. But if you do, I can get you some? If you’d like? Is that what you’d like? For me to get you water? I’ll go fill your water bottle?”
What Taehyung can only read as confusion has replaced whatever was filling Namjoon’s face previously.
“Oh, um. It’s just in my bag. Full. Thank you?” He jerks his head to indicate just next to Taehyung’s feet, who looks down, spots it, and picks it up. Starting to pass it to Namjoon, he opens his mouth before he’s interrupted by an increasing yell.
“Noooooooooooo no! No Giant Squidding!”
Jungkook slides to a halt next to him, karate chopping the water bottle out of his hand with enough force to burst the lid open as it hits the floor, splashing water everywhere.
There’s silence as what he’s just done seems to register with Jungkook, his face going slack.
“Oh… oh no.” He says, eyes darting between Namjoon and Taehyung, who are staring at the water bottle and him, respectively.
“I’m-” Jungkook starts.
“Uh…” Namjoon continues.
“Right!” Taehyung finishes, clapping again. “That’s enough successful human interaction for one day, Kook! Shall we leave now?”
Namjoon blinks at the floor before looking back up at Taehyung, who course corrects immediately.
“After we clean this up, of course! Uh… towel. Towel! Towel?” Looking around himself, he spots a towel on the floor, it’s corner already soaking up some of the spill. Dropping to his knees, he grabs the towel and looks up to reassure Namjoon that he’ll be done quickly, before realising his position. It looks like Namjoon might be realising the same thing, if the way his neck is turtle-ing into his chest is anything to go by.
With a yelp, Taehyung throws himself backwards, and the towel at Jungkook. Scrambling upright, he bows around seven times as he backs towards the doorway at speed, “Sorry!” He says, “I’ve just remembered, I’ve got to get my…” He spots a poster for a parents and kids class on the wall, “child?” He winces, “from…” a fish tank crosses his line of sight, “the... aquarium? Bye!”
Turning and breaking into a dead sprint, he makes it all the way to the street before realising his bag, wallet and keys are all back up at the studio. Cursing everything, he pulls his phone out of it’s precarious position in his waistband, only to discover thirteen increasingly threatening and confused texts from Jungkook.
YOU DONT GAVE A KID!!!!!!!!!!
No yo don’t
I know u don’t
I think I know u don’t but if you did that would be fine but you’re a terrible father!!!!!!!!!!
If u actually go to the aquarium without me ur dead 2 me
WHAT DO. I SAY TO NAMJOON!!!
WeRE JUST STANDING HERE DO I TELL HIM U HAVE A KID OR R U LYING
I told him it was a joke and that u just aren’t funny ur welcome
Do u want ur shit I’m taking it with me to yoongs txt me u ASHHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On the street
Holding his phone in one hand and his head in the other, a stomach-turning 30 seconds pass before another message pops up
U should be so fuckin luky
Fine i’m coming down and i’ve got ur things but ur giving me petrol money
Doneondonedonedone love u see u in t-3 minutes can’t wait
Did someone piss in thsi stairwell ?
I think tannie peed on my bag :(
UR MAKING ME ACRRY A PEE BAG??????
I’m adding dinner 2 my list of demands u absolute octopus
And a new thing of hand sanitizer
Poss. a hazmat suit.
One slightly stinky car ride later, they’re marching into Yoongi’s apartment clutching fried chicken and as much beer as budget and upper body strength allowed (1 x 12 pack, cans). Depositing the beer on the kitchen countertop, Jungkook heads to the sound of Yoongi’s greeting while Taehyung makes his way to the laundry (a set of appliances hidden behind sliding doors in the hallway), and empties his gym bag, then his bag itself into the machine, and grabs the detergent packet to ladle some out.
“What’s this about you telling eligible men you’re with child?”
With an aborted scream, Taehyung dumps the entire box of laundry detergent in the washing machine.
“Nice one.” Jimin comments.
“Thank you. I’ll be here until we run out of beer.” Turning to face him, Taehyung feels his face break into a smile as he opens his arms and Jimin jumps into them with no run up.
“Hi.” Jimin mumbles into Taehyung’s neck, legs firmly wrapped around his waist.
“Hi,” Taehyung returns, into Jimin’s hair.
“Missed you too.”
Lowering Jimin to the ground, but leaving his arms wrapped around him, Taehyung sighs happily. Jimin gives him a final squeeze before leaning back slightly to meet his eyes.
“No but seriously, why did you tell Namjoon you have a kid?”
A snort turns into a moan turns into a grimace. “I panicked?” He offers to Jimin, himself, and any listening deity.
“Friend-panic, bone-panic, crush-panic?”
“All of the above.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty gross. But great. But gross.”
“Great but gross. Huh. Do we have a plan?”
It’s rare for five minutes to pass without Taehyung sending up some praises for the universe delivering him Jimin. He’s well aware that a lot of people would tell him to chill the fuck out about someone he’s met twice, but Jimin gets that while Taehyung falls hard, fast, and often, it’s normally not the kind that instills more than one or two kinds of panic. A three-pronged friend, bone and crush panic? Now that’s the Real Deal.
With another sigh, Taehyung twists slightly so Jimin is tucked into his side, but he can face the washing machine and start scooping out the vast amount of spilt excess detergent. “Taking a non-piss-stained bag to yoga’s probably a good first step. I tried coming on to him today but that was a fucking unmitigated disaster of epic proportions. I shot for charmingly horny but went full aggressive sleaze, and now I think I might’ve fucked it all up.”
“I’m sure whatever you did, it wasn’t that bad.” Jimin comforts, from somewhere within Taehyung’s armpit.
Taehyung groans deep in his chest before responding, “It was pretty terrible. I asked him for private lessons and made some god awful innuendo about extra special moves.”
Jimin freezes, before he nearly faceplants in the washing machine laughing, bent in half.
“You fucking - I genuinely,” he gasps, “You what?! Extra special? Who are you?!”
Taehyung takes a break from scooping powder back into the carton to pout. “I know! I’m already embarrassed and filled with regret! Make me feel better!”
It takes Jimin another 30 seconds before he can wheeze out, “Anything positive I could tell you would absolutely be a lie. But sure! I can do that. I can do anything. Everything...” Jimin pauses, wiping his eyes “is going to be OK?”
“It’s not as bad as you think?”
“You’re very handsome with a natural joie de vivre that makes people forgive you for things they’d hold against other people until their dying breath?”
Taehyung almost agrees before remembering his morals, “I want him to like me for me! Not in spite of me and just because I happen to have a random series of like, genomes or whatever that have blessed me with this face!”
“Oh my God,” Jimin sighs heavily, “forgive me for trying. Fine, look - I’m sure you can make it up to him. Explain… explain that you’re so into him you turned into the worst version of a sleazy boyfriend from the start of a girl group video from 1993, but that’s not the real you, you just have a real thing for thigh-fucking and his are truly something to write home about.”
“Hold on, how do you know about his thighs?”
“Are you kidding? First, I’ve met the guy, and second, I was there when Jungkook called him ‘honey-thighs’ to his face, and it was the best-worst thing I’d ever heard - until now. Wow, how does it feel to be more embarrassing than Kook…” Jimin surveys him with a look of faux-concern.
“It’s not great.” Taehyung states, flatly. Dropping his head to the rim of the washing machine, he asks the piss-bag and too-much-detergent, “What do I do, though?”
“Explain! I’ve already given you your solution!” A disgruntled Jimin starts rubbing his back, “Explain, apologise, get on your knees if you must and/or can resist, you horny rascal, and I’m sure things will work out just fine.”
“You’re right!” Feeling energised, Taehyung rights himself and digs back into the decreasing pile of detergent with gusto before slamming the lid shut and elaborately pressing the ‘Start’ button. “Surely Namjoon’s seen himself! If I apologise, maybe we can start afresh and he’ll think I’m a sexy embarrassment rather than disgusting creep!”
“Sure!” Jimin agrees, “Wait, am I still lying to you?”
“Terrific, go get ‘im, tiger.”
“Right - can you put my pee bag in the dryer when it beeps?”
“OK.” Taehyung checks his pockets, taking two steps before realising he’s low on bus money, Jungkook is absolutely not going to facilitate his happiness in any way, and also he has no idea where Namjoon is. Turning back to Jimin, he asks, “While I’m feeling fantastic about this plan, do we... have any details? Also, just a note, this feels like the kind of energy I should be carrying into a dramatic confession, and I’m super into it.”
Jimin pauses, mouth twisted in confusion, “Yeah. No. Great energy though. Let’s keep that going. Yoongi! Jungkook?” he clicks his tongue, grabbing Taehyung’s hand and dragging him behind him to Yoongi’s lounge, finding Jungkook and Yoongi cuddled up on the couch.
“Guys!” Jimin announces, “I need your full attention!”
Jungkook raises his head from where it’s nestled on Yoongi’s shoulder, “If this has anything to do with giant squids I’m not getting involved.”
Taehyung starts, affronted, “After your display this afternoon I should think fuckin’ not!”
Yoongi wrinkles his brow, “What did Kook do?”
“Apart from sabotage me?”
“If what you told me on the drive over is anything to go by,” Jungkook snarks, “it can’t have gone much worse!”
Jimin winces in agreement, “It did sound phenomenally terrible, Tae.”
“He karate-chopped his water bottle!”
“You basically harassed him in his place of work!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, OK. Alright. Settle, kids.” Yoongi decrees, holding his hands up to hush them. For once it works, and he surveys his hands in wonderment before asking Jimin, “What do you want?”
“Plenty,” says Jimin with a pretty purse of his lips, “but right now we need to figure out a way to reinstate what little dignity Taehyung had so Namjoon will consider going on a date with him, right Tae?”
“I would settle for a lifelong enduring partnership a la Goblin,” Taehyung answers, “but yes, a date would be wonderful.”
Silence answers him, both Yoongi and Jungkook scrunching their noses up, just a little, until Taehyung pointedly clears his throat.
“Right!” Yoongi exclaims, hitting Jungkook on the thigh. “We can absolutely do whatever it is you just said, but first things first: the fuck have giant squids got to do with anything?”
Barbeque @ 8?
I don’t think people use the @ symbol as shorthand anymore
...Barbeque @ 8?
Yes please thank you
Never try and tell me anything ever again
Taehyung has made peace with the fact that Jungkook will never forgive him (do you know how many people I’ve explained giant squids to you absolute fuckknuckle) and therefore has taken any and all of his suggestions for Operation I’m Not A Total Creep, I Promise with twelve grains of salt and a pair of floaties as extra protection against sabotage.
He thinks they’ve managed to come up with a good enough plan. Granted, it’s not so much a plan as just a group dinner where Namjoon can see Taehyung interact with people other than Jungkook and hopefully not be a Total Creep (I Promise), and sneak in an apology if the mood is apropos, but the amount of time it took to come up with the idea really necessitated a name, Taehyung thinks. Getting Namjoon here hadn’t been as difficult as he’d imagined it would be - it turns out Namjoon is a reasonably accommodating guy who enjoys going out to dinner with friends and acquaintances and people who have clumsily propositioned him in his place of work. Jimin is a genius.
Seated around a table, Taehyung has carefully positioned himself opposite Namjoon - the table is longer than it is wide, so they’re close enough to engage in conversation comfortably, while ensuring Taehyung doesn’t accidentally slide into Namjoon’s lap and undo all the good work of the past five minutes since Namjoon arrived and Taehyung said ‘hello!’ like the nice, normal person he is. Jungkook is seated next to him, with Seokjin next to him, and Yoongi and Jimin opposite. They’re all talking about… something engaging, Taehyung judges by the look on Namjoon’s face as he nods along thoughtfully. Taehyung couldn’t give a hoot but anything that makes Namjoon bite his lip like that has to - stop it you horned up wet-nightmare monster.
“Taehyung?” Namjoon asks, head tilting slightly. When a surprised Taehyung meets his gaze with a wide smile, he inhales a little, before asking, “Did you have a nice time at the aquarium?”
Jungkook starts coughing, Jin whacking his back and Yoongi offering him glass of water.
Taehyung tries to summon up any memories he has of his many aquarium visits, in the hope that he won’t technically be lying to Namjoon when he says “...Great!”
A smile bursts off of Namjoon’s face and crash-lands in Taehyung’s stomach, as he eagerly follows up with, “Did you see the giant squid? Jungkook said you were a big fan - they’re incredible, right?”
A wave of coughing starts anew, but Taehyung can’t even spare it a glance.
“Yes! They’re - I want to say ‘beautiful’ but I’m not even sure if that’s what I mean, y’know? Like… they’re a lot. So much. Both in a very real sense but also just the fact that they’re like, fuckin’ out there, y’know? The ocean. What the fuck.”
Namjoon nods seriously, “Yeah, what the fuck indeed. I’m a big cephalopod guy-”
“Yeah you are.” Taehyung mumbles.
“What?” Namjoon crinkles his brow.
“Nothing! Sorry, carry on, you’re a big cephalopod guy! They’re great! Love them!”
“Yeah… yeah!” Namjoon nods again, and Taehyung can’t tell if he’s agreeing with him or encouraging himself. Either way it spurs Namjoon on to share, “I used to want to be a marine biologist, I think? I used to want to be a lot of things, but mostly a marine biologist.”
Taehyung is aware of the conversation starting up around them, but nothing has ever interested him less than anything other than what Namjoon is talking about.
“What stopped you?” He asks, leaning forward ever so slightly, tummy pressed up against the edge of the table and elbows in his cutlery.
“Money, mostly. They didn’t offer the programme at the university I got a scholarship to, so I switched to Lit. I loved it, and don’t regret it, but,” Namjoon screws up his face a little, “I think about it, sometimes. Mostly when I’m at the beach and see something interesting and my data connection’s spotty so I can’t get immediate answers.” Namjoon laughs, taking a sip and wiping his mouth.
There’s a feeling on Taehyung’s face, one he’s not entirely sure is appropriate but that he has no desire to suppress. It’s the kind of feeling that shows because it has to, that’s spread around his whole body. His fingers are feeling it, his small intestine is feeling it, the hairs on his legs are feeling it too. It’s close to swallowing him whole, so it takes him a few seconds to realise that he might be responsible for continuing the conversation, asking, “...Do you go often?”
“As often as I can! There are some great rock pools I’ve been wanting to visit on Jeju, but I’d want to like, make a weekend of it, book a little house or something close to the water.” The smile on Namjoon’s face falters slightly, as he laughs self-consciously, “God I sound… super boring!”
“Don’t worry, hyung, it’s not like you’ve substituted liking tea for a personality,” Taehyung offers comfortingly, “besides, it’s not boring if you like it, right? That’s the opposite of boring, I think, even in the dictionary.”
“Au contraire,” Seokjin interrupts, maneuvering Jungkook’s hands to pour himself another glass of soju, “you’re both incredibly boring, but you can be boring together, which makes it slightly less boring for us, who are less likely to be forced to go and find crabs with you, or, god forbid, walk through a field.”
Taehyung lets out an indignant shout in defense of fields, just as Namjoon does the same for crabs, leaving Jin toasting himself and declaring, “You’re both welcome.”
“I introduced them.” Jungkook grumbles into his shoulder.
Pointedly ignoring them both, Taehyung turns his attention back to Namjoon, asking “Hyung, let me pour you a drink?”
For some reason, Namjoon seems taken aback by his request - mouth dropping open slightly, shiny pink inner rim just visible. Taehyung mentally slaps his dick, which doesn’t help at all.
“That’s my job!”
Five pairs of eyes shoot to a visibly irritated (and a little intoxicated) Jungkook, who has claimed physical ownership of the triad of soju bottles on the table.
Taehyung tightens his smile, blinking rapidly, “Excuse me?”
“That’s my job. That’s always my job. I’m the - I’m the youngest. That’s my job.” A pout has now taken up residence on Jungkook’s face.
Silence answers him, although the growing smirk on Seokjin and Jimin’s faces makes Taehyung’s brain fuzz for a few seconds.
“Are you… going through something right now, Kook?” Taehyung asks, eyebrows raising, “Jin just literally had to manhandle you into pouring him a drink, and the last time we were out, you whined so much Yoongi bought you two ice creams on the way home and played with your hair on the bus - oh my God.” There’s an almost audible click in Taehyung’s head as he takes in Jungkook’s not-solely-because-of-the-soju flush and throws up his hands, judgement loud on his face.
Jungkook seems to sense his mistake, opening his mouth to say something but coming up blank. Namjoon looks between them, while Yoongi tries and fails to hide a bubble of laughter in his mouth.
“Pour him a drink, then.” Taehyung instructs, as the flush on Jungkook’s face grows.
“Pour him a drink.”
“I’ll just pour my own drink!” Namjoon smiles, overbright.
“No,” Taehyung declares, staring straight at Jungkook “if Kook wants to be the one to pour all the drinks all of a sudden, he can pour you a drink, can’t he.”
A grunt in response.
As Jungkook begrudgingly pours Namjoon a drink with both hands, Taehyung relaxes back in his chair, smiling pleasantly and observing, “Well aren’t we all having fun!”
An identical look of incredulity launches onto Namjoon and Jungkook’s faces, as Jimin muffles a giggle in Yoongi’s shoulder.
“We should go out more often!” Taehyung continues, with a wave of his hand at the waiter. “Three more bottles of soju, please!”
“Make that six!” Seokjin corrects.
After they’ve finished the majority of the meat and all but half a bottle of soju, Taehyung is feeling warm. Warmer. He’d overdressed, even though the shelter they were under amounted to not much more than a tarpaulin. Jungkook has recovered from his outburst, probably due to Seokjin’s soothing hand on his thigh that Taehyung has been thinking about ignoring. And Namjoon - Namjoon.
Namjoon is friendly, bright, thoughtful, talkative in bursts before remaining silent through an entire story, still for a while then picking the label off a bottle, engaged and engaging, leaning forward to hear better, mouth stretched in laughter or pursed in thought and Taehyung has never wanted to touch someone more in his life. Taehyung wants to run his fingers across his knuckles, his lips across his jaw. He wants to grab at his sleeve and roll it, once or twice, to avoid the puddle of sauce it’s come close to swiping. He wants to stroke Namjoon’s eyebrow with his thumb, fix the stray hair that’s poking upwards rather than across and then leave his hand there all the same. But he can’t. He can’t, because that would be fucking weird, and the entire point of this evening, he reminds himself, was to not be weird. Don’t encroach on his space, don’t make any overt (or covert) innuendoes, don’t don’t don’t.
But Taehyung has never been much of a don’t kind of guy, so he’s not surprised when he finds himself leaning forward, hand outstretched and pausing, a silent may I in the quirk of his brow before he wipes an errant drop of sauce from the corner of Namjoon’s mouth.
Namjoon’s eyes widen, caught on Taehyung’s thumb as he brings it back to his mouth and sucks it clean.
“Sauce.” Taehyung offers.
“Thanks.” Namjoon replies.
They lock eyes for a moment, before a rueful grin bursts onto Namjoon’s face. “Eomma always said I was a messy eater,” he says, “apparently I ‘lack restraint’.”
He takes a swig of his drink, a dribble spilling out the side before he catches it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can’t say it doesn’t pay off in other areas, though.”
For the life of him, Taehyung can’t figure out if Namjoon is being purposefully suggestive and it’s just unfortunate that he’s referencing his Eomma, or if he’s really and truly got no fucking idea. Taehyung stays silent, a frown collecting on his forehead, before the slow pinkening of Namjoon’s cheeks thuds in his brain and sends a thrill through his internal organs, that quickly turns to panic. There’s no plan for this. He made a plan for everything, but no plan for Namjoon brazenly talking about how messily he gives head.
“Blowjobs.” Taehyung mouth says, without his brains permission.
Namjoon chokes on his drink, drawing the table’s attention back to them.
“Sorry?” He splutters, through Yoongi smacking his back unsympathetically and ordering, “Could everyone at this table learn how to fuckin’ swallow without dying.”
Taehyung’s brain kicks into overdrive, hoe-bobs, low-fobs, nose-sobs, before landing on “...Blowjobs. Shit!”
“Taehyung, literally, what the fuck?” Jungkook asks, wobbling over his sixth shot of soju.
“Why are we talking about blowjobs at the dinner table?” Yoongi asks, squinting as he offers Namjoon a glass of water.
As Namjoon gets redder and redder, sipping carefully and keeping his eyes firmly fixed downwards, Taehyung can see no other option. Wrestling some cash out of his wallet, he lurches upright, throwing down a few bills and exclaiming “Sorry! I’ve just remembered, I’ve got...” he casts his gaze desperately around the table, for something, anything, “...diarrhea.”
Face collapsing in self-loathing, he hurdles over the seat, and out the door, ignoring Jungkook’s hiccuping chant of “Poop yourself! Poop yourself! Poop yourself!” that follows him into the night.
Have u ever pooped urself
None of my muscles have ever disobeyed me
U kicked yourself in the face not 3 days ago
I’ve been toilet trained since birth
You spend too much time with my boyfriend
Or… not enough?
U got me there. See u at dinner?
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Taehyung shoves his face further into his forgiving pillow, and rolls his blankets even tighter around himself. Jimin continues pacing up and down the room, sighing heavily every now and then for drama.
“We went through this, you were to be charming and polite, and not mention oral sex at the dinner table!”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Taehyung moans, lifting his head slightly, “We didn’t plan for him being… whatever he was being! He brought it up! Him! Blowjobs! What was I meant to do?!”
“You don’t know that! Just because you’re a filth wizard who wants to get on your knees in a dank alleyway for every yoga instructor with a nice pair of thighs this side of Busan, doesn’t mean he was meaning it like that!”
“But what if he was.” Taehyung says, mulishly.
“Then you should be a better flirt than just listing off sex acts! I thought I trained you better than this,” Jimin tuts, “What does this say about me?!”
“Focus, please! My problem first!” Taehyung whines, turning on his side to face him, “What do I do now?!”
Jimin flops next to him, sighing deeply. He chews his lip for a moment, just looking at Taehyung. Taehyung looks back.
“You’re serious, aren’t you,” Jimin says softly, “about him.”
Taehyung blinks, “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jimin pushes, “that this matters. That he matters. Yes, this is a crush and yes, he might not feel the same, but… it matters to you. And not just in a fun way.”
“This stopped being fun the minute I made up an imaginary child.”
Jimin ignores him. “So if you want him to be a part of your life, you either ignore that this ever happened and pray that he gets a casual case of amnesia, or, give apologising another shot and tell him that if he’s into it, you’d like to woo him.”
Taehyung stays resolutely stuffed in his pillow.
“You’ve just… embarrassed yourself. Twice. Three times? Worse things have happened at sea.” Jimin says, reaching out a hand to start stroking his hair.
Turning to nestle into Jimin’s palm, Taehyung protests, “You don’t know that.”
“They have harpoons there.” He grasps Taehyung’s head in both teeny, soft palms, “Sharks. Worse things have always happened at sea. It’s the one thing I know to be true, and I hold it tight to me, every night as I lay myself to sleep.”
Taehyung grumbles in agreement. Jimin is right, as (nearly) always. He’s just embarrassed himself. Again. When he was meant to be clearing up the first lot of embarrassment. So what if he seems socially inadequate, in possession of an unruly bowel and too horny for his own good? As soon as he’s done anything weird he’s vacated the premises swiftly so as to assuage anyone’s uncomfortability. And at the next yoga class, he’s going to go straight up to Namjoon and apologise, quickly, before he gets a chance to fuck up again. Belatedly, he realises that Jimin has been talking right through his internal monologue.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I - excuse me?”
“I wasn’t listening. Internal monologue.”
“Well fuck you too!” Jimin exclaims, with a swipe to Taehyung’s ass. “I was saying, next yoga class, just go up to him and apologise. Just do it quick. Before you mention blowjobs this time. Or diarrhea.”
Smiling, Taehyung leans over to plop a kiss on Jimin’s cheek.
“You’re a genius. Now, spoon me.”
“God you’re a fussy bitch.” Jimin mumbles, plastering himself to Taehyung’s side.
“Love you too.”
U comin 2 yoga tomorrow
Tae’s gonna try 2 apologise to Namjoon
For all the talk of how ‘easy’ just ‘apologising’ to ‘Namjoon’ would be, Taehyung finds himself hovering just behind the doorway, coaching his breathing down to a reasonable rate. His big toe has taken a peek once or twice around the corner, but that’s about it.
“Come the fuck on,” Seokjin orders, appearing out of nowhere and whacking Taehyung on the side of the head.
“Where the- what are you doing here?” Taehyung yelps, tenderly prodding the imaginary sore spot for effect.
“Call it moral support, or my inability to look away from an approaching trainwreck. Either way, chop-chop.” And with that, Seokjin grabs Taehyung by his shoulders and marches him into the studio, depositing him next to Jungkook before taking his place on his own already positioned mat.
“Here.” Jungkook shoves Taehyung’s own mat at him, mid stretch.
“Where did you even-”
“In your bag?” Jungkook comes dangerously close to rolling his eyes, Taehyung can sense it.
Realising any more questions are a complete and utter waste of time, Taehyung settles on a confused “Thank you?”
At sharp series of claps echo from the front of the class, drawing their attention to a very medium sized man with a very large, toothy smile who is very much not Namjoon.
“What the fuck,” Taehyung, Jin and Jungkook all say, but with very different intonations.
Turning between the two, Taehyung asks “So this is a very open relationship, then?”
“Only when we’re together.” They both reply, before tangling their gazes and blushing.
Taehyung barely stops himself from cooing at them, remembering that no Namjoon means no apology, means what is he doing here, again?
Darting a glance around him, he bends down to pick up his mat before being wrestled back up to standing by a hissing Seokjin.
“If you make the handsome man sad by leaving his class, you can add it to the list of things I’ll never forgive you for.”
“You know that me already being ‘never forgiven’ for stuff and us still being friends kind of takes the sting out of that threat, right?” Taehyung asks, amicably.
“I’ll creep into your house at night and piss in your mouthwash.” Jungkook intones from behind him, drawing a troublingly erotic look from Seokjin in response.
“Fine!” Taehyung protests, “Fine! I’ll stay! But you better help me find Namjoon after, alright?”
“Don’t worry,” Seokjin releases him and glances at his nails, “I’m still deeply invested in this, in a social experiment kind of way.”
“Are you guys alright back there? I’d appreciate a little focus!” This from the now slightly frustrated and somehow even more handsome man at the front of the class.
“Step on me.” Seokjin and Jungkook whisper in unison.
“Sorry!” Taehyung calls, holding his hands up in apology.
“Tell them off, Hobi - they’re nothin’ but trouble.” A voice interrupts from the doorway, a warm, delightful, angelic, marvellous, sexy, delicious voice that Taehyung wants to take a bath in.
“Namjoon!” He exclaims, instead.
“Hi, Taehyung.” A gentle blush tints Namjoon’s cheeks as he waves, just a little, before addressing the class. “Team, I just wanted to stop by to introduce you to Hobi - Hoseok - who’ll be taking care of you from now on. I’m not going anywhere, just a timetable re-shuffle, and Hobi’s the best. Which you’ll find out for yourselves, as soon as I stop talking. Which I’m going to do... now. Thank you. Bye!” With a wave, he ducks back out of sight, leaving Taehyung with a sudden sense of urgency.
“Should I-” he asks
“Probably not, but definitely.” Seokjin answers. “Also it turns out I’m into this instructor when he’s mad, so if you could fart on your way out or something, that’d be great.”
“Dope,” Taehyung agrees, ignoring that last part and swiping up his mat in a flurry, shouting ‘I was never really in it for the yoga!” to an even more visibly irritated Hoseok, and following Namjoon out the door.
Or attempting to. Even though scarcely thirty seconds had passed since he’d lost sight of Namjoon, he’s nowhere to be found. Not to be dissuaded, Taehyung drops his belongings by the doorway and heads in the direction he thinks Namjoon went. He can’t have gone far - the studio can’t have more than two or three yoga-doing-spaces, the changing rooms (which were in the other direction) and there’s only two other doorways with actual doors in them - one marked ‘Staff Only’ and the other, ‘Toilet’.
After knocking on the ‘Staff Only’ door to no reply, he tries the toilet. Opening the door and rounding the corner, he finds three cubicles, three sinks, and one Namjoon washing his two hands in a rather haphazard fashion.
“Hello!” Taehyung says.
“Fuck!” Namjoon replies, splashing water everywhere.
Taehyung winces, going to shove his hands in his pockets before remembering he doesn’t have any. “Is this… a good time?”
“Uh…” Namjoon stares at his wet hands, t-shirt and leggings, “sure? I’ll just-” he motions towards the hand dryer.
Taehyung nods, and waits. The hand dryer’s one of the fancy ones, that you stick your hands in, so it doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s turning back to him and holding out his hands as if to say ‘all done’.
“So… how can I help?” Namjoon asks. He’s about a foot from the wall behind him, but looks a little like he’s floating in space. Or maybe Taehyung’s just projecting. Taehyung feels slightly at sea, which he imagines could be similar. Or very different. Taehyung knows nothing about space and he feels it acutely.
“I just wanted to apologise,” he says, rocking a little on the balls of his feet. “I think - no, I know I’ve been making you uncomfortable. And that’s not cool. Especially…” he gestures around them, “where you work.”
“Oh.” Far from space, Namjoon now looks firmly tethered to the earth.
“Yeah, so, I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Namjoon repeats.
“I know it doesn’t matter,” Taehyung adds, “but I didn’t - that wasn’t my intention. To be, um. To make you feel uncomfortable.”
A small smile grabs at the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, as he resists mimicking Namjoon.
“And… what was your intention?” Namjoon asks, tentatively.
“Oh.” Taehyung says, involuntarily this time. “Um, to… woo you?”
“Oh.” Namjoon says, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Yes? Yes. Very much so.” Taehyung grins, a touch rueful. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologise.” Namjoon looks at him, intent all of a sudden.
Taehyung stops, surprised, “I really think I should. I shouldn’t have yelled blowjobs at the table and I lied about having to go to the aquarium and having diarrhea. And asking you about the private lessons with the extra-special moves, that was some weird embarrassing softcore porn shit.”
“The extra-special moves was… a bit much.”
“But the blowjobs, um. I - wanted.”
“No!” Namjoon blushes, “I mean, may- no, but I - God I’m such a fucking terrible flirt.” He cradles his head in his hands for a moment, before resurfacing with a grimace. “I was… being…suggestive. And then when you ran away I thought that you asking about the private lessons was just a momentary lapse in judgement and I’d horrifically embarrassed myself, so really, truly, don’t apologise. Not for all of it.”
Taehyung feels like he was having one of those dreams, where you're unprepared at your final math exam but then the rooms flipped upside down, the floor's cotton candy and someone’s just walked up, grabbed his pencil and scribbled in all the right answers. He doesn’t have a fucking clue how they got to the solution, all sense of stability is dissolving, and now he’ll get top marks for doing absolutely fuck all.
“Just... for some of it?” He clarifies.
“Just for some of it.” Namjoon smiles.
Taehyung takes in that smile and wants to see how it feels. With a step forward, he asks, “Anything in particular?”
“Um… Namjoon’s eyes dart to Taehyung's feet and then back up, “the extra-special moves was a bit weird.”
“Agreed, and I apologise.”
“Please don’t lie about aquariums.”
“I feel especially bad about that one.”
“And make sure if you’re backing people against walls, they’re into it.”
Taehyung comes to a halt, just a foot away from Namjoon, “Should I just ask, or is there something I can look out for?”
“Asking is never a bad idea.” Namjoon replies, clearing his throat quietly.
“May I?” Taehyung asks, the question hushed.
Namjoon nods, and Taehyung can’t help it. He lurches forward, lips finding Namjoon’s. In his haste it feels like sheer luck. There's a question in his mouth and he asks it again and again and again. For a moment, Namjoon is still. Taehyung stops, retreats to look him in the eye, maybe to apologise or just to check in. Before he can decide, Namjoon steps forward, barely an inch, and kisses back.
Its immediate, the heat. His lips are soft, Taehyung knew they would be, but the kiss is never gentle. It's quick, and open, and messy. They’re both a little sweaty, just enough for the smell to be a heady reward for Taehyung as he works his way down Namjoon’s jaw, to his neck, to his collarbones, mouthing and sucking and biting. Namjoon whimpers, pressing against Taehyung’s mouth and clutching at his hair.
“You like that.” Taehyung mumbles, unsure if it’s an observation, question or declaration.
His hands make their way to Namjoon’s hips, dragging him in closer, close enough to rub up against. For a split second he remembers where they are, before also remembering he doesn’t give a single shit.
Namjoon whines in response, nodding frantically before pulling Taehyung’s head up to kiss him again. There’s too much saliva pooling in Taehyung’s mouth, he swallows hastily as his hips connect with Namjoon’s again. The friction is dulled through the slide of their leggings, frustrating.
“Should’ve worn my skort.” He gasps against Namjoon’s mouth, who shudders out a laugh.
“I don’t think I could’ve coped with that.”
Taehyung’s hands run up to the top of Namjoon’s head, lightly gripping his hair to restrain him as he dives in for another kiss. Kissing is great but this is important.
“You liked the skort!?”
“I like you.” Namjoon leans back in, but Taehyung holds him in place.
“I gathered, but the skort works for you? Because the short part of it is merely a formality. Wait till I tell Jungkook.”
“Yes, the skort works for me. Let’s explore this later, kiss me, please?” Namjoon looks embarrassed exactly half of a second after his request, and if Taehyung thought he couldn’t be more charmed or horned up, he was sorely mistaken.
“Absolutely.” He agrees, and kisses him again.
Namjoon sighs into it, and moans lightly when Taehyung rolls his hips.
“Oh, the skort really-”
Namjoon shuts him up, mouth eager, and Taehyung can’t help but rock up, harder. His hands can’t stop moving, touching Namjoon’s back, neck, tummy, going down further, tracing along the edge of Namjoon’s leggings, teasing underneath the tight fabric.
He’s half hard, they both are. They’re also in a fucking bathroom. Taehyung would be lying if he said that didn’t make it hotter, but then again, he can’t imagine a single place that this wouldn’t be hot. Put him in a fuckin’ deli and he’d be hard-pressed to not want to drop to his knees for Namjoon.
His fingers slowly make their way down, under the leggings, under Namjoon’s briefs, waiting for a sign, for Namjoon to tense up, to draw back, to say ‘not here.’ But it never comes. Instead, Namjoon kisses him harder, until the pads of Taehyung’s fingertips are trailing through Namjoon’s pubic hair. Absently, he thinks that Namjoon’s never shaved a day in his life, the hair soft, long enough to tangle his fingers in if he wanted.
Their kisses slow, Taehyung taking his time as his lips travel downwards. He bends his knees, using Namjoon to steady himself as they meet the floor. He raises his head, taking in the rumpled, panting boy before him. Namjoon looks like he’s been hit in the head with a shovel, and Taehyung could not be more into it.
He gently eases the layers down, until he can wrap his hand around Namjoon’s length, running it up and down. Brushing the soft pad of his thumb over the tip, he spreads a small bead of precum and leans in to taste it.
The groan Namjoon lets out goes straight to Taehyung’s dick.
Closing his mouth over the head, he keeps his hand still around the base as he leans in, taking it further into his mouth. Taehyung sends up praises to whoever designed Namjoon’s sensibly sized dick. He’s never been a fan of choking, and the look on Namjoon’s face when he’s comfortably three quarters of the way down is something else.
Drawing back, he keeps his lips tight and tongue pressed against the underside. He moves his hands to Namjoon’s hips, tracing his thumbs up and down the bone and holding him still, not that it takes much effort. Namjoon looks like he’d let him do anything, head thrown back and bottom lip caught tight between his teeth.
Taehyung moves faster, saliva pooling in his mouth and jaw starting to ache, just a little. He’s caught between wanting to make this last and wanting to see what Namjoon looks like when he comes as soon as possible, see if it’s anything like what he’s imagined. Namjoon’s chest is heaving, his hands shaking. He covers his mouth with one, before Taehyung drags it down to the top of his head. Namjoon’s eyes widen, gripping in Taehyung’s hair as he moans encouragingly. He goes faster, mouth drawing back to focus on the tip, tongue working on the underside as one hand drags up and down the base, spreading his spit, and the other holds him steady against Namjoon, whose legs are trembling. His hips jolt forward, taking him further into Taehyung’s mouth, as half an apology forms on his lips. Taehyung grips his hip in reassurance, saying yes, and more and come. And he does, hot and sudden, hitting the back of Taehyung’s throat as he works him through it, mouth taking in as much of Namjoon as he can, hands running up and down his sides, slowing, until Namjoon is still apart from the wobble in his knees and fluttering of his eyelashes.
Taehyung draws back with a grin and a pop, unable to resist pressing a quick smooch to the side of Namjoon’s dick before tucking it back into his underpants, then his leggings. He pats the floor next to him, and Namjoon sinks down gratefully.
“Holy shit.” He says.
“Holy shit.” Taehyung agrees.
They sit there in silence for a moment, Namjoon still recovering before he comes to with a start. “Do you want…” Namjoon sheepishly gestures to Taehyung’s obviously hard penis.
“Oh, no.” Taehyung declines, as Namjoon’s face falls. “I mean, yes, clearly,” He clarifies hastily, “but I think we’ve pushed our luck enough for one…” Taehyung checks the time on his phone, “early evening. Could go for some food, though?”
Namjoon’s eyes widen. “Food? Now? With me?”
“Like a, um. Just us?”
“I can call Jimin if you’d like? Or Yoongi?”
“No! No. Just us is fine. Just us is good. I like… just us.”
The look on Namjoon’s face is one of Namjoon’s Top 10 Most Adorable Faces, Taehyung decides. His cheeks are all flushed, his hair a little messy, his eyes curving up as he smiles, a little unsure.
“Namjoon, you know how much I like you, right?” Taehyung asks.
Namjoon hesitates before nodding slightly.
“Because it's a lot,” Taehyung states. “Just for the record, I like you a lot, and would very much like to go on a date with you. Would you like to have dinner with me, now, and have it be our first date? After I’ve had your wonderful penis in my mouth?”
A goofy grin fills Namjoon’s equally, if not more wonderful face.
“Yes. That sounds… really, really nice.”
Hey! Its jk from yoga? Not sure if u remember me!
Hey! Whats up? Of course I do - u and ur bf are the loud stretchers LOL
was gr8 to talk to you after yoga!
Did namjoon give u my number?
Yeah hah he did
Hope thats ok!!!!!
n yes!! it was - Was just thinking that me n jin r gonna go to that new bar u were talking about tonight, thoguht u might wanna join us? No worries if not!!!!
That sounds nice :)