In retrospect, it’s really ridiculous how much planning this whole thing takes. When they first talked about it, agreed to it, Namjoon still thought it would be… not simple as such, but straightforward. A single evening, maybe even only one or two hours, and then it’d be settled.
But, of course, with a schedule as busy and roommates as nosy as theirs, it is a minor miracle to even find a quiet minute at all.
Fortunately, though, Namjoon is the leader. He knows all their appointments in advance, keeps track of all their commitments and of the members themselves. And Namjoon is a musician. He composes. He orchestrates.
It’s just that, for a change, he is orchestrating for taking his best friend’s virginity.
Namjoon tries not to think about the implications too much, really, because he knows that it’s a little bit odd. Not just odd but dangerous even. He is less worried about the risk of being caught and more about the possibility of the whole thing ruining their friendship and, by extension, their dynamic as BTS.
But he also has faith. They have known each other for ten years now. There is nothing they hide, nothing that could seriously threaten their unique bond. Otherwise, maybe he would be more worried about how easily he had agreed to this.
It went like this: Min Yoongi is gay, a tricky enough existence when you are an underground rapper, but one shrouded by shadows and lies once you are a world famous idol and all eyes are on you. They try to not let it be that, to support queer rights and be openly accepting, but there is a difference between encouraging fans and outing yourself to the public. Yoongi has always been terribly protective of himself, in many different ways, and that includes his fear of being hurt by someone he loves.
Namjoon, on the other hand, has it a bit easier. He’s had a girlfriend, he’s had sex, and he’s had an easy introduction to the world of bisexuality, one that has allowed him to fool around here and there, without much commitment but also without much risk because he has chosen his partners carefully and because fucking as such was never much of a big deal for him.
Long story short, Yoongi is a virgin and he has asked Namjoon to change that.
It could have sounded like a joke, maybe, a stupid idea, except Yoongi doesn’t joke like that and the look on his face was really too embarrassed to indicate anything else. Part of him probably expected Namjoon to laugh him away, to tell him it was definitely not going to happen.
And perhaps that would have been Namjoon reactions a few years ago. It definitely would have been when he and his hyung were more rivals than friends, when most days they were seconds from strangling each other.
But it’s different now. Now, they are secure in their fame and their friendship and their feelings for each other. Now, the idea of sharing this, too, is strange, yes, but also logical. Namjoon understands why Yoongi asked him, especially because Namjoon is gentle and trustworthy and experienced. Namjoon will make it good for him and not hurt him during or after. Namjoon will be kind.
So this is where they are now, Yoongi’s room with the rest of the dorm dark and deserted as everyone is out doing something else, the maknae at the movies, Seokjin visiting his family, Hoseok out with friends. They’ll have a few hours at last and Namjoon is ready to make the most out of it.
He’s prepared what he needed to, bought lube and condoms, but Yoongi changed the bedding as a courtesy, as though it wouldn’t get ruined soon after. They both showered, separately, but with Namjoon giving Yoongi a quiet hint that it might be a good idea to clean himself more thoroughly than usual.
Yoongi had blushed at that and he is blushing now, albeit more faintly, even as he tries to hide it by moving around his room and cleaning up the clutter.
"Hyung,” Namjoon says patiently from where he is sitting on the edge of the bed, but this is an informal situation, an intimate one, and the honorific feels misplaced in his mouth.
“Yoongi,” he amends, watching as Yoongi comes to a halt and glances over his shoulder. “We can still postpone this, if you want. Or just don’t do it at all.”
Yoongi’s nose scrunches up and it’s difficult to tell what he may be thinking, whether he wants to call it off after all.
“No,” he says at length. “No, I- it’s just nervous energy. I’ve been thinking about it all day and- I’m certain.”
Namjoon nods. He wouldn’t have held it against Yoongi if he changed his mind, but he doesn’t think Yoongi would have been happy with that decision either.
Silently, he holds out his hand, expecting Yoongi to take it, because everyone knows he loves holding hands. Yoongi, however, only steps a little closer, barely within reach, just enough that Namjoon can hook a finger in his belt loop instead and reel him in.
Namjoon is tall, even when sitting, but it’s still an odd angle to be looking up at Yoongi from so close, especially since Yoongi is avoiding his gaze again.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon says once more. “I need to be sure that you really want this. Communication, remember?”
Yoongi’s shoulders square up, as though getting ready to object, but then he quickly deflates.
“Yeah,” he says, sounding somewhat defeated. “I know.”
“Good.” Namjoon smiles, quietly amused despite it all. “Is it okay if I kiss you, then?”
The blush creeps back into Yoongi’s cheeks, but he nods nevertheless and, when Namjoon beckons him, he does lean down a little. Namjoon still has to crane his neck, has to scoot to the very edge of the mattress, but then Yoongi’s mouth is in front of him, pink and perfect.
Namjoon can admit that it’s a strange experience to be kissing your best friend of ten years without there being any romantic inclinations or active desire between them. It’s not off-putting or confusing or bland, nothing that has any negative connotation to it. It’s comforting in a manner that first kisses very rarely are.
Neither Yoongi nor Namjoon are the most affectionate in the group. Hoseok is always showering people with kisses and it’s a rare day that Jimin is not hanging off someone’s shoulder. That kind of overt affection is more easily welcomed and then returned. Namjoon and Yoongi, however, meet each other halfway, some reluctance still in how their lips are pursed, but their noses bump a little awkwardly and Namjoon tilts his head to allow for a better angle.
Yoongi makes a small sound, barely anything, and a moment later his mouth opens just enough that Namjoon can taste the wet inside of his lower lip.
And then it’s a kiss, good and proper, drawing back and pushing forward again, meeting in between, until Namjoon feels the strain in his neck. So he slings an arm around Yoongi’s waist and pulls him down onto his lap, and Yoongi follows, scrambling in an ungainly movement to sit astride Namjoon’s spread thighs.
All of a sudden, it feels less like an innocent little kiss and more like the leadup to sex. Though, Namjoon reckons, that’s what they are aiming for anyway.
He’s holding Yoongi, casually, doesn’t want it to become too much too quickly for either of them. Because he knows Yoongi is not completely new to this, but that he had never gone past heavy kissing and grinding, a handjob or two. So Namjoon is more than willing to take things slow, to see whether they are really comfortable with it as things progress.
But then it’s Yoongi whose hands are on Namjoon’s chest, pawing at him through the shirt, and Namjoon cannot help but chuckle.
He leans back, hits Yoongi with a cheeky smile.
“Want me to take it off?” he asks, with a surge of confidence, especially when he sees Yoongi’s gaze dart away for a moment.
“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbles, plucking at Namjoon’s collar.
Namjoon’s smile only widens, dimpling his cheeks. They’ve never talked about it too much, but he knows that Yoongi has a thing for buff, manly guys. And, well, Namjoon has been working out a lot lately.
Yoongi shuffles back, giving Namjoon enough room to grab the hem of his shirt and draw it up, pulling it over his head. It musses up his hair so he tosses his shirt aside and combs his fingers through his bangs instead, trying to make them lie flat.
“No,” Yoongi says, reaching out to instead brush the peach-colored hair out of his forehead. Namjoon has to squint to make out the look of concentration on Yoongi’s face, kind of like the stylist noonas when they try to get things just right.
Namjoon wonders whether he looks handsome like this, whether Yoongi is actually somewhat attracted to him instead of just considering him a means to an end. He’s pleased by the thought, especially when he then notices Yoongi’s eyes dropping down to Namjoon’s newly exposed chest.
Namjoon can never keep his abs going like Jeongguk does, he likes sugar and sitting down too much for that, but he is proud of how prominent his pectorals and biceps are these days.
“You can touch, you know,” he offers, making a point of flexing a little, and Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise, as though this were a terrible chore, but then places his palms smackdab on Namjoon’s pecs.
His hands are large and he easily cups all of Namjoon, the gentle rub of skin on skin making Namjoon’s nipples grow hard despite the heat.
Namjoon swallows. He enjoys sex, even if he gets little enough opportunity for it, so he is certainly not left unaffected by it. The mere situation and the knowledge that he is allowed to let himself get into it, is enough to make his pants feels a bit tighter.
He shuffles to get more comfortable, scoots back on the bed with Yoongi still above him, even as Yoongi runs his thumbs over Namjoon more deliberately.
“Your nipples are so dark,” he says, the words making Namjoon glance down at his chest in response. He’s never much thought about his own nipples in comparison to others, but he has a natural tan and the color of his nipples kind of matches that.
“Wanna show me yours?” he asks, hoping it’s not too early. Yoongi is self-conscious about his physique, his legs, his face, his smile even, but it’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked plenty of times. It’s just that they previously never paid much attention.
Yoongi grumbles again but then he wriggles out of his shirt, his shoulders hunched up as it comes off. His own nipples are dark pink, the color made even more striking by how pale the rest of Yoongi is.
On a whim, Namjoon leans forward and closes his mouth over Yoongi left nipple, curling his tongue around it and giving a hard suck. Yoongi sucks in a breath, probably more out of surprise than anything else, and reflexively holds onto Namjoon’s shoulders.
Namjoon puts in a little more work, lapping and nibbling, until Yoongi’s skin is damp and pebbled, and when Namjoon glances down he can see Yoongi’s erection tenting the front of his sweatpants.
“Good?” Namjoon asks anyway, just to make sure, and Yoongi nods quickly.
“Good,” he confirms and his ass is rubbing against Namjoon’s thighs, creating friction between the fabric. Their pants should probably come off soon, too, but Namjoon thinks some more making out sounds nice.
He kisses Yoongi’s neck, doesn’t leave any bruises, moves up to his ear where his blond hair tickles him. Then it’s his mouth again, the corner of it, the Cupid’s bow. Yoongi’s mouth is so small in comparison to Namjoon’s much plusher lips and it makes coordination somewhat more difficult.
It feels as though, if Namjoon were to open his mouth wider, he could swallow Yoongi whole. He doesn’t, though, just licks inside him, meets his tongue, tastes that they both brushed their teeth right before this. It’s all warm flesh and cool peppermint, and Namjoon puts a palm to Yoongi’s cheek to hold him in place as he kisses him more deeply.
They keep going like this for a while, Namjoon making note of how Yoongi seems to prefer shallower lingering kisses instead of deep swiping ones, adjusting his pace accordingly, feeling as Yoongi gradually relaxes in his arms.
Eventually, however, Yoongi detaches himself from Namjoon’s lips and says, “Okay, I think we should move on.”
It’s a very matter-of-fact thing to say, but Namjoon doesn’t mind. It’s quite possible that Yoongi feels like he is not going to hold out for much longer, and Namjoon doesn’t want to tease him unduly and make him come too early. After all, Yoongi had been quite adamant about wanting to go all the way.
They pull apart, separately wiggle out of their pants, leaving their underwear on for the moment, and Namjoon goes to make himself comfortable on the bed, some of the pillows showed between him and the headboard so he can lie at an incline.
“Come here,” he says, beckoning Yoongi over, and Yoongi moves toward him in a funny knee-walk across the mattress before pretty much just face-planting on top of Namjoon, forcing a wheeze out of him.
“You comfy there?” he jokes, looking down at the top of Yoongi’s messy hair.
“Yeah,” Yoongi replies, his nose smushed against Namjoon’s collarbone. They are a tangle of limbs but his hips are carefully lifted away from Namjoon’s.
Deliberately, Namjoon bucks up his pelvis to grind his clothed erection against Yoongi.
Yoongi gasps again, tenses - and then begins grinding back, mimicking Namjoon’s slow undulations.
Like this, the prospect of sex is easy. Namjoon has a pretty boy in his arms who smells good and who is all soft skin and thinly veiled eagerness, and it feels pretty damn good.
“Okay,” he says, breathless, when the grinding has been going on for a little while. “Okay, we really should move on.”
He doesn’t think he is likely to just come in his pants, but he isn’t so sure about Yoongi, and he doesn’t want to accidentally cut this short.
Yoongi sits up, his hair a mess, looking delightfully flushed.
“Where’s the-” he begins, sucking in a quick breath to calm his words. “Where’d you put the stuff?”
“Uh,” Namjoon says, twisting his torso so he can reach over to the box of condoms and the lube.
“I was gonna make fun of you for getting the XL ones,” Yoongi comments, glancing down at Namjoon’s crotch. “But now…”
“Hey, I know what I’m doing,” Namjoon quips. He presses a quick, reassuring kiss to Yoongi’s jaw. “Take off your underwear.”
He makes short work of his own, kicking it off to land somewhere on the other side of the room, closing his eyes for a moment when the cool air hits his heated skin. Then, he tears into the carton box and pulls out a string of condoms, separating one from the rest. He tears the silver foil, too, albeit with much more care, and immediately the strong smell of latex fills the air.
“Ew,” Yoongi comments, scrunching up his nose. Namjoon had gotten plain ones because, in his opinion, the weird artificial flavors are even worse, but now he wonders whether Yoongi would have preferred something else.
“Well, it’s just going in your ass,” Namjoon teases because Yoongi can’t really complain about that. Instead, however, Yoongi juts out his lower lip in a big pout.
“But I kinda wanted to suck you off,” he says, part disappointment, part petulance.
Namjoon’s dick twitches where it rests against his lower belly.
“Really?” he asks, his voice rougher than intended.
They had talked about most of this before, the timing, their respective roles, but Yoongi had never mentioned an interest in giving him a blowjob.
“Yeah,” Yoongi replies. He glances down at Namjoon cock. When he glances up again, his pupils seem dilated.
“Okay,” Namjoon says, settling back against the pillows, the opened condom wrapper forgotten in his hand. Not like he is going to turn down a freely offered blowjob.
Yoongi, despite previous instructions, has not taken his underwear off yet, so he seems less self-conscious as he spreads himself out along the length of the bed, resting his temple against the inside of Namjoon’s thigh.
Being so suddenly on eye level with another man’s cock should probably be somewhat intimidating, but Yoongi reaches out quite confidently and closes his long fingers around Namjoon’s shaft, pumping slowly.
“Shit, you’re really big,” Yoongi notes, before licking a wet stripe up along Namjoon’s dick and promptly closing his mouth over the head, sucking hard.
Namjoon curses, presses his heels into the mattress to keep from bucking up in surprise.
Yoongi doesn’t seem to need more encouragement than that, beginning to bob up and down, his tongue alternatively working the length or digging into the slit, before wrapping around the head and suckling.
Namjoon suppresses a mild groan, resting his palm against the back of Yoongi’s skull.
“Ah,” he says in realization because there is no way someone is so skilled on the first try. “You’ve done this before, huh?”
Yoongi just hums, his head gently being moved along by Namjoon’s hand in his hair.
Maybe Namjoon should have figured. Yoongi’s raps about having a skilled tongue were much too cocky for someone who has never given oral before.
Namjoon lets himself enjoy the feeling, the wet heat and the suction, but it doesn’t take much before he has to pull Yoongi up and off him.
“If you want me to still fuck you, you should stop now,” he says, watching as Yoongi wipes a hand over his mouth to get rid of the saliva and the smug smirk he is sporting.
So not a total virgin after all. Great. Makes things easier overall.
“Get naked,” he urges once more, lightly kicking against Yoongi’s knee, and this time Yoongi huffs but obeys, shoving his shorts down his thighs, revealing his erection that has just the faintest tilt to the left.
Then, Yoongi just dives back down on top of him, arms braced at Namjoon’s sides as he kisses him once more. Namjoon can taste himself in his mouth, finds himself turned on by it, by the fact that Yoongi sucked him off so willingly and skillfully.
If he was previously in the mood for sex in general, he is now very much ready for the thought of fucking Yoongi in particular, even if he had never really entertained that possibility before.
With that, he swiftly rolls them over, puts Yoongi underneath him, likes how small he feels in relation to Namjoon’s height. Yoongi’s legs splay open, giving Namjoon room to bear down and press against him, both of them finally naked and unabashedly aroused.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says, his hands on Namjoon’s hips, pulling him against himself more firmly.
Namjoon manages to relocate the misplaced bottle of lube, pops the cap and squirts some of the gel onto his fingers, before reaching down and carefully pressing against Yoongi’s hole.
“Is it too cold?” he asks.
Yoongi, though, has his eyes screwed shut, furiously shaking his head.
“No,” he says. “Keep going. I- Just feels weird when someone else is doing it.”
Yoongi has used toys on himself before, had expressed a preference for bottoming since Namjoon was alright with either. It makes things easier, because Yoongi knows what he likes and what feels right.
So it’s a joint effort, working Namjoon’s fingers into him; only one at first, then two, scissoring, spreading the lube. From experience Namjoon knows that they should go up to at least three fingers before Yoongi can comfortably take him, so he takes things slow, gets him used to the feeling, drawing out, returning only when Yoongi pushes down to take him in once more.
They are both sweaty now, worked up from what is more foreplay than Namjoon usually has the time for. The hair that Yoongi had so deliberately styled is artlessly falling into Namjoon’s face again, sticking to his forehead, but Yoongi’s mouth is open, small breaths coming out of him, the occasional deep moan at odds with how delicate his face really looks.
“I’m ready,” Yoongi says eventually. “Fuck, I’m ready, c’mon-”
Namjoon sits up then, wipes his sticky fingers on his own thigh, before grabbing the abandoned condom, pulling it free from its foil. He rolls it on, very aware of Yoongi watching with an open mouth. Namjoon strokes himself, makes sure the condom doesn’t slip.
“You want it?” he asks, surprised that he can talk so brazenly to his hyung. But then again, maybe he has good reason for it.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Yoongi returns, the last traces of his nervousness apparently wiped away by his arousal.
“So,” Namjoon says, biting the inside of his cheek. “Technically, doggy would be the easiest position for the first time. But, since you’ve already experimented with toys before, I thought it’d be nice if we could properly see each other and stuff.”
“Sooo, missionary?” Yoongi asks and Namjoon nods.
“We can still switch it up in between.”
“You’ve probably read the kama sutra anyway,” Yoongi mutters. “But yeah, whatever, missionary is fine.”
“You’re just too lazy to move,” Namjoon taunts in return before once more covering Yoongi’s body with his. The feeling is familiar now, the two of them molding against each other with more ease.
“Okay,” Namjoon says, his dick dragging across the inside of Yoongi’s thigh. Luckily, the condom is already lubed up, so he doesn’t have to prep more. “Ready to be deflowered?”
“I am ready to kick you in the teeth, you shiiii-” Yoongi cuts himself off, biting his lower lip as soon as Namjoon presses the head of his cock against Yoongi’s hole.
“What was that, hyung?” Namjoon says innocently, hiding his grin against the side of Yoongi’s neck even as he guides his cock deeper. “You can still change your mind, you know?”
“If you pull out now, I will kill you,” Yoongi hisses through gritted teeth. His hands are on Namjoon’s shoulder blades and, if his nails weren’t perpetually chewed on, he’d probably draw blood from how hard he is digging in.
Namjoon licks just below his ear, tastes the sweat, and then very slowly presses his pelvis forward, sliding in centimeter by centimeter. Yoongi’s breath is more labored now, but he doesn’t sound in pain, doesn’t seem overly tense, so Namjoon keeps going until he has fully bottomed out.
He stills, needing to get accustomed to the feeling as well, because he doesn’t get to do this nearly as often as he would sometimes like to.
Then, with great care, he begins to move.
The feeling of strangeness is back, at least in part. Namjoon has never deflowered another man before and he has thought a bit about the concept of virginity, even though he knows it is mostly societal and pointless and dumb. And it doesn’t feel any different as such, but the knowledge is there; one moment Yoongi has never had sex with another person but now he has and that person is Namjoon. They are having sex and it’s intimate, it’s a bit overwhelming. But it still feels pretty damn good.
“Joon,” Yoongi says, drawing his hand up along Namjoon’s side, just barely missing the ticklish spot between his ribs. His mouth is still open, as though he meant to say something more but then forgot the words, so Namjoon just keeps moving, establishing a languid rhythm, just going back and forth, never drawing all the way out, just making sure to properly open Yoongi up.
It doesn’t take long to find the right angle, the one that has Yoongi quietly gasping with each thrust, so Namjoon concentrates on that, making sure to not let it build too quickly. They have more than enough time and this is not a hurried fuck in some dark corner, but in Yoongi’s bed in their home. They can enjoy this, fully revel in it.
The more worked up Yoongi gets, however, the more self-aware he seems to grow again. His head is twisted to the side, half-pressed into the pillow, one of his hands cupped over his mouth as though to keep the sounds in and himself hidden.
“Hey,” Namjoon says, nudging his cheek with his nose and following it up with a kiss. “I wanna see you, remember?”
Yoongi groans, more in annoyance than pleasure, but he drops his hand, clenches it in the sheets instead, his hips kicking up into the next thrust. His face and chest are pale pink, so Namjoon kisses him until he at least forgets his embarrassment.
Yoongi seems to have some trouble coordinating that, the kissing and fucking simultaneously, which is understandable if he has only ever gotten to fuck himself on a toy without having to pay attention to anything else. But Namjoon finds it to be a grounding thing, seeking out Yoongi’s tongue with his own, biting at his lower lip.
Yoongi is tight around him, amazingly so, and Namjoon reaches down to give him a mimicry of that feeling, closing his hand around Yoongi’s erection and stroking him in pace with his thrusts. It’s a little dry and maybe he should reach for the lube, but the doesn’t what to lose the momentum they have established, so he just keeps going instead.
Yoongi seems unable to decide which pressure he should lean in more, Namjoon’s cock or his hand, and eventually he just holds still, thighs quivering as he lets Namjoon do most of the work.
“Joon,” Yoongi keens once more, a more breathy quality to his voice, and Namjoon likes how natural it seems for Yoongi to say his name like that, no pretense that he is getting fucked by someone else, no shame.
He fucks him harder than before, the thrusts making Yoongi budge up along the mattress, only really held in place by Namjoon’s hand on his shoulder.
“You gonna come?” Namjoon asks, feeling Yoongi tighten up around him even more, feeling his dick twitch in his hand, the telltale signs of his orgasm being just moments away. Namjoon is not quite there yet himself, so he keeps pounding into Yoongi, not letting his rhythm falter, instead watching as Yoongi comes undone beneath him.
Yoongi comes with his mouth open, no sound coming out, his ass spasming around Namjoon, one palm slapping against Namjoon’s chest, obviously torn between pushing him away and pulling him down.
Namjoon feels Yoongi’s semen spill between their bellies, some of it hitting his fingers as he keeps pumping him. In Namjoon’s experience, orgasms are more intense when bottoming so, if it’s the same for Yoongi, then he is definitely enjoying himself.
Namjoon, though, keeps fucking him through it, chasing his own pleasure, even as Yoongi relaxes again and slumps back against the mattress, his face shiny and his eyes closed.
It’s a pretty image and Namjoon keeps looking at him till he is overwhelmed himself, the heat that has pooled in his gut finally bursting. He grunts, hides his face against Yoongi’s neck, and comes, spilling inside the condom.
His hips still and he takes a few deep breaths but, as soon as his heartbeat has calmed down again, Namjoon rolls of and face plants into the nearest pillow. He reaches underneath himself to pull off the condom, too lazy to tie it, so he just places it somewhere by his side, hoping it won’t leak. When he peeks up a moment later, he catches Yoongi furtively wiping away some tears from the corner of his eye.
Namjoon makes the effort of pushing himself up once more and pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder, damp with cooling sweat.
“You alright?” he asks because he needs to know that Yoongi is not regretting anything.
“Yeah,” Yoongi answers, clearing his throat to even out his voice again, sounding just the tiniest bit hoarse. “I’m… good.”
A grunt. “I’ll just take a hot bath later.”
“With a bathbomb?”
Namjoon smiles. He hadn’t been too worried about this changing things for the worse between them, but he is still relieved by how normal their conversation feels. Well, apart from talking about Yoongi’s ass is sore because it’s had Namjoon’s dick in it.
“So,” he prods because he cannot help but be a little shit about it. “Was it worth your time?”
“Sure,” Yoongi replies, deadpan. “Solid eight out of ten.”
Namjoon’s mouth falls open.
“You have no frame of reference!” he objects yet Yoongi only smirks.
“But there is always room for improvement,” he points out and Namjoon nearly chokes on his spit.
“Is that an invitation to go again?” he asks, only to watch Yoongi flounder because he probably hadn’t intended it as such.
“I’m joking,” Namjoon reassures him because he doesn’t want to come across as having any sort of expectations. But also… he cannot help but think about how this was… something nice. Warm and fun and uncomplicated.
“It’s- it’s not like we can make this a regular thing,” Yoongi says. He’s staring up at the ceiling, chewing at the cuticles of his thumb.
Namjoon props his head up on his hand, watching him in contemplation.
“Why not?” he wants to know. He understands where Yoongi is coming from because, if dating scandals are dangerous, gay ones certainly are. But it’s not like Namjoon hasn’t hooked up with other people and that always posed a certain risk. If anything, instead of actively going on dates with other people, lowkey being with another member would probably be much less conspicuous.
Oh shit. Namjoon should not be considering this. This was supposed to be a one-time encounter, a no-strings-attached defloration. He should not be thinking about the possibility of fucking Yoongi again. That sounded like a sure way to make everything more complicated. And yet...
Yoongi rolls onto his side, his hands folded underneath his cheek. He’s still naked, hasn’t even pulled up the duvet, but it’s the look on his face that makes his seem more vulnerable.
“I think that would make it a little too easy to fall in love,” he says, his voice strangely small.
Namjoon opens his mouth, closes it. Then he settles down on the pillow again, his face just two handbreadths away from Yoongi’s.
“What’s so wrong with that?” he asks, in a tone that is just as tentative.
“Joon.” Yoongi heaves out a big sigh, his boney shoulder quivering with it. “I- This was already a big enough risk as it was. We’d have to hide shit and… I’m so sick of hiding.”
Namjoon pokes his tongue into his cheek.
“We can’t even be sure anything is going to happen,” he points out. “We could… keep having sex and maybe try dating and just… see whether we really develop feelings. I mean that’s… that’s not unrealistic.”
Namjoon isn’t the type to fall in love easily, but it’s also not like he had ever been given much opportunity. He thinks that being in love with one of his best friends sounds like a pretty sweet deal.
“So what, you want to… trial date me?” Yoongi asks with a snort as though this were a completely absurd idea but also as though he were trying to convince himself of the ridiculousness of it. After all, he was the one who first brought up the possibility of falling in love.
Namjoon reaches out, manages to link his pinky with Yoongi’s.
“This is… honestly something we’d have to discuss with the others as well,” he admits because, while the members are aware of his and Yoongi’s respective sexualities, an actual romantic relationship would definitely affect all of them in some way. “But I don’t think they’d be against it.”
“Joon,” Yoongi whines, drawing out the syllable as he flops onto his back. “You are the leader. If anything, you should be the one to say what a bad idea this is.”
“I don’t always want to be the leader,” Namjoon reminds him, a little pouty. He shuffles closer, enough that the tip of his nose if right next to Yoongi’s cheek. “But… if you definitely tell me no, then I won’t bring it up again.”
For a moment, Yoongi is silent. Then he turns his head, far enough that his and Namjoon’s mouth are level. A second later, their lips meet, dry and already so familiar with each other.
“That wasn’t a no,” Namjoon says once they separate, an excited little thrill in his blood.
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “It wasn’t.”
if i believe
in death be sure
because you have loved me
moon and sunset
stars and flowers
gold crescendo and silver muting
- e.e. cummings