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Namjoon used to be intimidated but not anymore. His first time in the Seoul underground, he had been scared shitless. He hadn’t known what the fuck he was doing, and maybe he still didn’t know now.

What originally brought Namjoon to the underground was his love of music and the notorious Agust D. Namjoon had first seen the rapper in grainy videos his best friend had shown him between classes at university, and he was immediately entranced. Something had stirred inside Namjoon watching those videos, but he hadn’t known what it was then.

Now he knew better. Now he wasn’t so captivated. Now he hated Agust D.

 

“First time here? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Namjoon took another swig of his drink. He’d seen the other man weaving his way through the crowd, eyes locked on Namjoon. His heartbeat had sped up when Namjoon first saw him approaching, and he was desperately trying to get it back under control. He cursed at the way his fingers trembled slightly.

“Been around,” Namjoon replied curtly. He didn’t trust his voice to be stable enough for a longer response.

“What’s your name then?”

Namjoon rolled his neck to the side. No one had asked him for his name yet. He hadn’t gotten up the courage to even perform yet.

“RM.”

Namjoon saw the other man nod out of the corner of his eye, like he understood. The bartender stopped by and asked if the other man wanted a drink, but he waved him away. Namjoon watched him go before downing the last of his beer. The other man’s eyes lingered on Namjoon, and Namjoon couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being assessed.

“Well, RM, you wanna get out of here?”

Namjoon panicked. What did he mean by that? Where would they go? What would they do? How would he get home after they were finished doing whatever they were gonna do? But despite his internal freak-out, his mouth went ahead and answered for him.

“Sure.”

A grin broke out on the other man’s face, looking like he won. But Namjoon couldn’t exactly decipher what that actually meant.

“Name’s Agust by the way, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Namjoon didn’t like the way Agust looked at him, like he was something to be devoured. But Namjoon followed him out to his car regardless.

Turns out they didn’t make it much farther than that. Namjoon got his answer real quick about Agust’s intentions when Namjoon felt himself being pushed up against the trunk of Agust’s shitty car. It took a second for Namjoon’s brain to catch up but once it did, alarms started going off.

“Wait, I—”

Pulling his hands away, Agust looked up at Namjoon, eyebrows raised. He didn’t say anything, and that made Namjoon uncomfortable. He never should’ve agreed to coming out here with Agust in the first place. But he just couldn’t resist this pull he felt towards Agust.

“I’m not gay,” Namjoon blurted without meaning to. Apparently, his mouth was having a grand fucking time all own its own answering for Namjoon when it didn’t have the rest of his body’s consensus.

Agust looked like he was trying to bite back a laugh but said, “We can stop if you want.”

Yes. That’s it. Namjoon wanted to stop. Obviously, that’s what he, a straight male, wanted to do. He did not want to continue what they were doing; he did not want to feel Agust’s hands on him again. Of course not, he wasn’t gay. He as very, very straight. Namjoon was going to open his mouth and tell Agust he wanted this to stop.

“I want this.”

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Fuck Namjoon. Fuck himself.

Despite everything, Namjoon melted into Agust’s kiss, allowing himself to be guided into the backseat of Agust’s car.

 

“—when he told me, ‘i’m not gay’, what am I supposed to say? Yeah, I know who you are, because I still had you in the back of my fucking car.”

Namjoon bristled. Even after the video ended, he could still see Agust’s smirk in his mind. It certainly didn’t help that Namjoon had been there when Agust performed this live. Rage coursed through Namjoon’s veins, threatening to burst right out of him. His hands were balled into fists in his lap, jaw clenched.

“Whoa, that shit was intense,” Hoseok said from beside him, still staring at his phone. “He was definitely calling someone out with that. Who do you think it was? Another rapper?”

“I don’t give a fucking shit who it was.”

Hoseok turned to face Namjoon, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Don’t you go to the same underground Agust D does?”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Namjoon really wanted his best friend to drop the subject, he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Yeah, Namjoon was there, and yeah, Namjoon knew exactly who the fuck Agust was calling out. But Hoseok did not fucking need to know that.

“No need to get bitchy with me, Joon. I was just asking a question,” Hoseok replied, slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. “But it’s weird how upset you’re getting.”

Scowling, Namjoon got up from the picnic table and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ve got a class.”

“Namjoon, wait!” Hoseok called after him as he started stalking away, hastily trying to shove his books into his bag. “I just wanna know what your problem is?” Hoseok asked after catching up with Namjoon.

“I don’t have a problem,” Namjoon huffed.

Hoseok laughed. “Namjoon, you clearly have the biggest fucking problem right now. I thought you liked Agust D?”

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Namjoon didn’t care if any of the other students around them heard him anymore. “Maybe before but not now! He’s just some pompous dick who’s full of him-fucking-self! He thinks he can take whatever he wants just because he’s Agust D! I might have admired him before, I might have liked his music before, but now he’s just another piece of shit!”

“Namjoon, keep your voice down—”

“No, I’m not gonna keep my voice down! I’m sick and tired of his shit, and I’m not going to let him make me do that again!”

It took Namjoon a second to realize what he said.

“Wait, are you the one he was—”

Namjoon ran.

 

It took Namjoon a few months before he finally got on stage at the underground. Nothing he wrote ever felt good enough to perform in front of anyone. He’d sometimes let Hoseok read over some of his better verses, but that’s as far as it went.

So Namjoon felt validated when the crowd cheered for him as he stepped off the stage, unable to wipe the smile from his face. Strangers congratulated Namjoon on his way to the bar, needing a celebratory drink. Other rappers joined him to offer their support and comments. Namjoon couldn’t have been happier.

Until the crowd quieted, and Namjoon looked to see who stepped onto the stage.

The lights centered on Agust D, face mostly obscured by a black cap and face mask. Namjoon’s mood immediately soured, grip tightening on the glass in his hand. He held a microphone, mostly like the one Namjoon had been using just mere moments before.

Rappers who don’t even have haters, shut up. Where are your haters?

The crowd absolutely lost their fucking minds. There was screaming and cheering all around Namjoon, but he didn’t hear any of it. He had tunnel vision focused directly on Agust D, but the man on stage wouldn’t look his way.

Look into this mirror after washing your eyes and face, there is a hater of yours breathing right in there.

Namjoon had to fight back the urge to hurl the glass in his hand towards the stage. Agust D stood there for a few more moments, taking in the crowd. Namjoon was sure he had that annoying as shit smirk on his face under that mask. But then Agust casually let the mic fall out of his hand, casually walking off stage.

Someone pushed on Namjoon’s shoulder, shouting something in his ear. Namjoon didn’t even acknowledge whoever the hell it was, keeping his gaze trained on Agust as he moved through the crowd. It looked like he was making his way towards the bar, and Namjoon didn’t know if he had it in him to keep himself from trying to kick his scrawny ass. At the last second, Agust turned down one of the side corridors that led you to one of the back exits.

But not before finally catching Namjoon’s eye.

Shoving the person beside him out of his way, Namjoon quickly followed after Agust, praying to a god he didn’t believe in that no one would think to follow them. He really didn’t want a fucking audience to what might happen once they were alone in the parking lot.

Agust was leaning against the side of his car, casually picking at his nails by the time Namjoon caught up with him. He didn’t raise his head as Namjoon approached, conveniently ignoring him until Namjoon was right in front of him. Who was positively seething at this point, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“If you’re gonna throw the first punch, make it a good one.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” That finally made him look up at Namjoon.

“I’m Agust D.”

“Cut the bullshit, Yoongi,” Namjoon spat. It wasn’t long after they’d met did Yoongi finally tell Namjoon his real name. It took Namjoon a lot longer to relinquish that same information back to Yoongi.

“What bullshit, Namjoon? How was I wrong?” Yoongi said, pushing off the side of his car so he could stand at his full height. Nothing intimidating to Namjoon. “You don’t have haters.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I don’t know you?” Yoongi laughed. “I think I know you better than a lot of fucking people. Probably even better than you know yourself.”

“As if,” Namjoon scoffed.

Reaching out, Yoongi smoothed his hand over Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon felt bile rise up in the back of his throat. At this point, they’ve fucked more times than Namjoon can count. And in practically everywhere imaginable. In the back seat of Yoongi’s car. The alley behind Yoongi’s apartment building. A convenience store bathroom. If they were impatient enough, anywhere was fair game.

But not tonight. No, Namjoon couldn’t see past his fury directed solely towards the man in front of him. Slapping his hand away, Namjoon pushed Yoongi so he’d fall backwards against his car. A look of surprise briefly crossed Yoongi’s face before he schooled his expression back into a neutral one. Yoongi’s always been good at that.

“I see,” Yoongi said after regaining his footing. “I’m gonna take that as a no tonight?”

“You went way too fucking far tonight, Yoongi,” Namjoon said, jabbing a finger against Yoongi’s chest.

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to push Namjoon’s hand away. “You needed to be put in your place.”

“Put in my place? And where would that fucking be, Yoongi! That was my first time performing in front of an audience, and you had to fucking ruin it for me!”

Surprisingly, Yoongi didn’t say anything. His jaw twitched, like he wanted to say something but wouldn’t allow himself to. Namjoon was tired. He was tired of Yoongi and all his bullshit. Of course, Yoongi had to take away tonight from him. He always took everything from Namjoon. Why would tonight have been any different?

“Fuck you, Yoongi,” Namjoon said before turning and walking away. He hoped the bus lines were still running this late.

Yoongi had come after Namjoon twice now on stage. He wasn’t about to fucking let that happen again.

 

Namjoon was satisfied. He’d kept a close eye on Yoongi tonight, wanting to see his reaction in real-time. Namjoon’s only regret was not getting someone to record Yoongi while Namjoon was performing, wanting to watch the way Yoongi’s face fell over and over again.

So Yoongi had taken two digs at Namjoon already. Tonight was his response, and hopefully the finale to their public trashing of each other. Namjoon was terribly fond of his song tonight, using everything he could think of against Yoongi. Airing all of their dirty, sexual laundry. A particular favorite line of his, when he choked out ‘fuck me harder’.

The crowd tonight exploded even more than it had the last time Yoongi spoke out against Namjoon. Last time, Yoongi hadn’t specifically singled Namjoon out. He’d only taken the stage after Namjoon had finished performing. But Namjoon had taken a different approach. He sung directly to Yoongi, letting everybody fucking know who he was serenading tonight.

Taking Yoongi’s example, Namjoon quickly pushed his way through the crowd, heading towards that hallway that would take him to the back alley. He was riding on such a high over his performance that he didn’t even notice the looks and sneers thrown his way. Namjoon hadn’t thought about the consequences of his lyrics. He was only concerned with taking Yoongi down.

Little did Namjoon realize that he condemned himself in the process.

“What the fuck was that?”

Namjoon’s back collided with the wall, forearm pressed across his throat. He was ready to put whoever the hell thought they could push him around on their ass until he realized exactly who it was. With a smirk, Namjoon laughed despite feeling like his windpipe was being crushed.

“You liked my lyrics tonight?” he choked out.

“You fucking asshole! Why the hell would you fucking say that?” Yoongi yelled at him, not bothering to care if anyone overheard him. Namjoon thought he looked really red in the face and found it fucking hilarious. “You had the fucking audacity to look straight at me, and now people are talking about me!”

“I thought that’s what you wanted, hyung. Don’t you want to be noticed?” Namjoon asked, starting to get a little more lightheaded. Reaching up, he placed his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and shoved hard.

“You know that’s not what I want,” Yoongi growled, fists clenched at his sides.

“Well, I really don’t care about what you want.”

A silence grew between the two of them, staring at each other from across the hallway. Namjoon could clearly see the rage behind Yoongi’s eyes, the way his jaw was clenched with his fists still balled up. Namjoon hated the way the sight of the shorter rapper went directly to his dick.

“Hey, great performance tonight RM,” another rapper said with a clap on Namjoon’s shoulder, approach unnoticed due to his stare-off with Yoongi. Throwing a wink Yoongi’s way, he continued, “Using personal experience always makes your lyrics that much better. See you next week… faggots.”

Set of like a trigger, Yoongi pounced on the other man, throwing him to the ground and trying to cave the guy’s face in, by the looks of it. At first, Namjoon didn’t even move. Hadn’t even registered what was happening in front of him. Honestly, Namjoon had never seen Yoongi move so fast in the entire time he’d known the older rapper.

But once his brain finally caught up, he was reaching for Yoongi, trying to pull him off the other guy. Who happened to be screaming bloody murder. It wouldn’t be long before someone noticed the attempted homicide occurring down this side corridor.

“Get the fuck off him!” Namjoon grunted, “Do you want us to get fucking kicked out?”

Finally allowing himself to be pulled off, Yoongi sneered down at the man on the floor. Blood was dripping from his knuckles, and Namjoon didn’t want to know what the other guy’s face looked like. His chest was still heaving, trying to look around Namjoon who was using his body to block Yoongi from lunging again.

“C'mon, Yoongi. Let’s go,” Namjoon said a little more forcefully, pushing Yoongi towards the closest exit. He was steadily growing concerned with the lack of movement from the guy on the floor, only the occasional groan reaching Namjoon’s ears. “Before we’re kicked out.”

“Do you really want to stay here after that? You want to stay here with those kinds of people?” Yoongi asked, finally turning his attention back to Namjoon. “This is just going to keep happening. They won’t accept you, Namjoon. They’ll only make fun of you.”

“Oh yeah? Then why haven’t you left already? What makes you stick around, Mr. Out and Proud?” Namjoon spat back, still trying to inch his way towards the exit. Just a few more feet and they’ll be out of here before someone notices.

“I’m different.”

“Has Mommy told you that you’re a special boy? That you’re different and better than everybody else? Is that how it is?” Namjoon said. “Well, newsflash, Yoongi, Mommy lied.”

Yoongi’s scowl deepened, shoving Namjoon away from him, but he was ready for it this time. Namjoon was able to crowd Yoongi out the door and into the back alley behind the club. But Namjoon wasn’t satisfied until they were heading towards the parking lot, hoods up over their heads. He had a tight grip on Yoongi’s upper arm, despite him trying to wiggle out of Namjoon’s grasp.

“Will you let me the fuck go already?” Yoongi shouted, voice like a thunderclap in the quiet night. “I’m not going to fucking run away.”

Namjoon finally gave Yoongi the space he wanted, hands shoved in his pockets. Yoongi readjusted his clothes with a huff before inspecting his knuckles, flexing his hands. Namjoon watched his face intently, looking for any signs of discomfort. He might hate the prick, but if he’d hurt himself, he would make sure they made it to a hospital so he could get treated.

“Hands okay?"

"I’ll live,” Yoongi grunted.

“You sure? You kinda went to town on that—”

“I said I’m fucking fine, Namjoon!”

Letting the silence lapse between them, Namjoon watched as Yoongi fidgeted with his clothing and hands. Namjoon didn’t feel uncomfortable in the quiet, but he relished in the way that it seemed to unnerve Yoongi. About fucking time something got under his skin. Even though he did just beat the shit out of someone. Namjoon had quickly realized it was a hit or miss when it came to trying to piss Yoongi off.

“Are we just gonna fucking stand here all night?” Yoongi said, finally breaking the silence after a few more minutes of fidgeting.

Without saying anything, Namjoon turned and started walking back out towards the main road. He knew what Yoongi was trying to get at, but he hated going willingly. This wasn’t their first time dancing around each other, and Namjoon loved hearing Yoongi practically beg for him to get in the car.

“Where the hell are you going?”

Namjoon continued walking, hearing Yoongi let out an exasperated sigh behind him.

“Namjoon, come on. Don’t piss around tonight.”

He stopped, but he still didn’t turn around.

"Get in the fucking car, Namjoon.”

This time he turned, eyebrows raised. “Is that how your Mommy taught you to ask for things?”

“I hate you so fucking much!” Yoongi screamed, reaching down and picking up the biggest rock he could find on the pavement. “You fucking piece of shit!”

“What are you planning on doing with that?” Namjoon asked, more amused than anything now. He knew by now that Yoongi was all bark, no bite. Sure, he might seem intimidating and scary at first, but it was only superficial.

“Throw it at your stupid fucking face if you don’t get in the fucking car.”

“And why would I want to do that?"

Yoongi screamed again but didn’t throw the rock. "I swear to fucking god! I beat the shit out of someone for you!”

“No, you fucking did not. I never asked you to go fucking feral on that guy. What happened in there was not because of me. I don’t owe you fucking anything, Min Yoongi. Especially not a night in bed with you,” Namjoon said, quickly closing the distance between the two of them until their chests were almost pressed together.

“But you’ll still come home with me, won’t you?” Yoongi smirked. “You can’t say no to me no matter how much you hate yourself for it.”

Yoongi knew he was hitting a sore spot for Namjoon. Namjoon was not gay. He did not like men. He fucked bitches and liked tiddies and pussy. But still, every time Namjoon would go home and fuck Yoongi so hard it wiped that smug look right off his ugly face.

“Stop fighting, Namjoon. Just get in the car already,” Yoongi said, shoulders sagging slightly. It seemed like the last of the fight in him was finally bleeding out of him.

“I don’t like doing this,” Namjoon admitted softly, a rare act of vulnerability. It was an unspoken agreement that neither of them were open with each other. Their relationship consisted of hating each other and fucking. Nothing more, nothing less. They’d never be friends. They’d be nothing more than a quick fix.

“Says the person who keeps fucking me,” Yoongi said, but there was no bite to his words. “Come on, let’s go already. I’m sure people have noticed what I did by now, and are probably looking for us. Or at least me."

"Say it first.”

Yoongi looked up at Namjoon, scowl returning. He must’ve thought Namjoon was going to let him off easy this time, not be as much of a dick this time. Well, he thought wrong. It was one of the last vestiges of control Namjoon had over their arrangement, and he wasn’t about to give that up.

“Please, Namjoon,” Yoongi murmured, grabbing ahold of Namjoon’s hoodie and pulling him closer. “Please, come home with me, Namjoon. Need you, need you to take care of me.”

Namjoon finally got in the car.

The ride back to Yoongi’s shitty apartment was quiet. Namjoon was slowly self-destructing in his head, hating himself for again letting Yoongi usher him into his car. He knew he was spiraling, fingers digging into the meat of his thigh. He could feel an oncoming headache with the way his jaw was locked, hating Yoongi more and more with each pitiful glance he gave to Namjoon.

Well, mostly quiet.

“Namjoon, you know there’s nothing wrong with fucking guys.”

“I’m not gay,” he replied, keeping his stare straight ahead at the empty road in front of them.

“And I didn’t say you were. You can fuck guys and not be gay.”

“Stop trying to push your homosexual agenda on me. I’m not fucking gay.”

"I’m not trying to push some homosexual agenda on you, Namjoon! You’re just not fucking listening to me!” Yoongi said, pounding his hand on the steering wheel

“Because I don’t want to fucking listen to you! I’m not going to listen to someone I hate!” Namjoon exploded back at Yoongi. He was beginning to feel caged in, rolling down the window to create some semblance of freedom.

“You don’t actually hate me, do you?” Yoongi asked, sounding much more hopeful than he probably wanted to.

No. Namjoon didn’t think he actually hated Yoongi. He hated everything Yoongi stood for. He hated that Yoongi was comfortable enough with himself and his sexuality. He hated that Yoongi was such a powerhouse when it came to performing. Namjoon hated a lot of things, but Yoongi wasn’t one of them. And that pissed Namjoon off even more.

“Just drive.” Namjoon had already exposed himself more than he wanted to tonight. Yoongi would just have to come up with his own answer.

He could feel as the anger began to creep back into his bones, hands balling into fists in his lap. Rolling his head to the side, Namjoon felt his neck pop, relieving some of the tension building between his shoulder blades. They couldn’t get to Yoongi’s apartment fast enough.

After Yoongi pulled into the lot for his building, it didn’t take them long before they were outside Yoongi’s door, Namjoon impatiently tapping his boot against the floor. Yoongi dropped his keys five times trying to unlock his door, and by the second time, Namjoon knew he was doing it on fucking purpose. He was almost about to grab the keys out of Yoongi’s hands to do it himself when Yoongi finally pushed the door open.

Having completely run out of patience for Yoongi, Namjoon not so gently shoved him over the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him. They didn’t make it very far; Namjoon caging Yoongi up against the wall just inside, forcing his thigh between Yoongi’s leg. Hard.

Namjoon hated how Yoongi’s groan excited him. He hated how Yoongi was so soft and pliable under his touch, so willing to give every part of himself to Namjoon. He hated how Yoongi bared his neck to Namjoon, begging for him to kiss him. All Namjoon could do was hate, hate, hate.

It was hard for Namjoon to get out of his head, unable to lose himself in the pleasure when his self-loathing was looming right in front of him. Namjoon had never hated himself so much until he met Min Yoongi. This was all his fault; it was always going to be Yoongi’s fault. And Namjoon made sure that he paid for it every single time.

Not once did Yoongi ever complain, and this time wasn’t an exception. He always took whatever Namjoon gave him, all breathy moans and hands clutching at whatever they could reach. It both thrilled and disgusted Namjoon.

“Please,” Yoongi whispered into Namjoon’s ear, cupping the nape of his neck and pulling him closer. “Please.”

Namjoon quieted the voices in his head as much as he could and finally gave in. Pressing his lips against Yoongi’s, Namjoon immediately took control, Yoongi’s mouth falling open easily for him. There was no fight for dominance, no battle of tongues. Yoongi just let Namjoon take and take and take.

Namjoon hated how easily Yoongi submitted to him.

But he also couldn’t get enough of it.

His hands couldn’t seem to decide where they wanted to settle, needing to touch Yoongi everywhere possible. From gripping his jaw to hold him in place, to his fingertips brushing along the soft skin of Yoongi’s stomach to feel him shiver, Namjoon wanted it all. Wanted to feel the way Yoongi reacted to even the smallest of touches, arching against Namjoon, groans rumbling in his chest.

“Need you to fuck me,” Yoongi mumbled against Namjoon’s lips. He couldn’t find it in him to deny Yoongi. (He never could.)

Stumbling their way back towards Yoongi’s bedroom, things felt different for Namjoon this time. Sure, the resentment towards Yoongi still sat heavy in his gut, but the air between them felt different. Namjoon couldn’t quite place the feeling, and he didn’t like that. But the way that Yoongi was mouthing at his neck was sure making a good job of distracting him from his thoughts.

It took them longer than necessary to actually make it to Yoongi’s room; getting so caught up in each other that they’d pause in the middle of the hallway or Namjoon would push Yoongi up against the wall to grind against his leg. Sometimes Namjoon thought they acted like horny teenagers, still new to this whole fucking thing. (Which could still apply to Namjoon since he’s never fucked a guy before Min Yoongi.)

Reaching down between them, Yoongi palmed Namjoon through his jeans, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. Namjoon allowed Yoongi to touch him for a few more moments before pushing his hand away. Moving his hand from Yoongi’s waist to his hair, Namjoon yanked Yoongi’s head back.

“Ah, ah, you know the rules,” Namjoon frowned. “No touching before I say so.”

Yoongi whined, trying to wiggle his hips against Namjoon’s thigh. “Well, maybe if you’d just fuck me.”

Spinning Yoongi around, Namjoon pressed his chest against the wall, hand on the back of Yoongi’s head to keep him in place. Namjoon had one arm pinned behind his back at an awkward angle, making Yoongi whimper. “Boys with bad attitudes don’t get what they want. They just take what they’re given, understood?”

Yoongi couldn’t nod so he let out a small yes, followed by a soft moan. Namjoon furrowed his brows. Then he realized Yoongi was rocking his hips against the wall to get some sort of relief.

“Look at you. How pathetic,” Namjoon sneered, pulling Yoongi away from the wall and guiding him into the bedroom. Yoongi whined again at the loss of contact, but it was cut short when he saw where they were finally headed.

Pushing Yoongi onto his bed, Namjoon watched at Yoongi rolled onto his back, spreading his legs wide and inviting for Namjoon. But he just stared, and Yoongi stared right back. The feeling of this time being different crept back into his mind, and he knew Yoongi felt it too.

Namjoon didn’t like that.

Yoongi beckoned him closer, and he went.

Settling himself between Yoongi’s legs, Namjoon attached his lips back to the column of his throat. There was just something about it that always begged Namjoon to mark it up like a purple galaxy. And who was he to say no?

Yoongi’s hands buried themselves in Namjoon’s hair, keeping his head in place. Yoongi lifted his hips up, and Namjoon groaned when he felt their hard cocks brush against each other. Out of reflex, Namjoon pushed back down, drawing another moan from the both of them.

Please,” Yoongi begged, and that was like music to Namjoon’s ears. Namjoon loved teasing, and teasing, and teasing until Yoongi broke completely.

Namjoon just hummed, pushing his hand underneath Yoongi’s hoodie to dig his fingernails into the soft flesh of Yoongi’s stomach. That drew a soft gasp from the man underneath him, arching more into Namjoon’s touch. Smirking, Namjoon pushed the clothing up; Yoongi got the hint and pulled it over his head, throwing it somewhere onto the floor.

“Make it even.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow but leaned back onto his knees regardless. His fingers curled under the hem of his hoodie, slowly discarding it while keeping eye contact with Yoongi. But the older man quickly broke it, instead racking his eyes over the newly exposed skin of Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon used to be self-conscious when Yoongi would stare at him, unaccustomed to the male gaze. He still hated it, but now he’d gotten used to it.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Namjoon said, tsking softly.

Yoongi laughed. “Since when have we ever been polite to each other?”

“Good point. Why start now?” Namjoon smirked, yanking Yoongi down the bed so that their hips were flush against each other once more.

Yoongi’s head lulled back onto the bed, a low moan coming from deep in his chest. His hips rutted against Namjoon’s, seeking some kind of friction. Namjoon indulged Yoongi, rolling himself into Yoongi’s stuttered thrusts. But only briefly.

Bringing a hand up, Namjoon pressed down on Yoongi’s dick with the heel of his hand. Yoongi cried out but it quickly morphed into a whimper. Yoongi writhed around on the bed, fisting the bedsheets as Namjoon continued to press down and squeeze. Namjoon had found out pretty quickly that Yoongi liked it rough, and Namjoon was more than happy to oblige. After all, it was Yoongi who had to pay for everything.

“Namjoon, please, I can’t—”

Namjoon felt Yoongi’s hips stutter and immediately pulled his hand away, tsking again. “Gonna cum already? Haven’t even fucked you properly yet. Fucking pathetic.”

Yoongi couldn’t even say anything back, just laid against the bed panting. He let Namjoon manhandle him out of the rest of his clothes, a sigh escaping him once he was finally naked. Namjoon scowled at him, leaving his jeans on but palming himself over the material. He just wasn’t ready to bare the rest of himself to Yoongi yet.

He knew that was irrational and stupid; that’d fucked before so of course, they’d seen each other naked. For Namjoon, it was all about control. He knew it was the one thing that he couldn’t relinquish when fucking Yoongi, and he guessed him being clothed while Yoongi was completely naked was just another part of this weird complex he had going on.

“Are you gonna put your dick in me or not?"

With a growl, Namjoon hovered over Yoongi, wrapping his hand around Yoongi’s throat and putting his body weight into it. Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly, feeling as Namjoon’s grip steadily tightened. Turning his head, Namjoon whispered in Yoongi’s ear, "Shut the fuck up, or I’m gonna leave you here with the worst case of blue balls you’ve ever fucking had.”

Yoongi stayed quiet, but maybe it was because of Namjoon’s hand still almost crushing his windpipe. So Namjoon went back to pressing kisses and little bites all over Yoongi’s chest, pointedly neglecting Yoongi’s dick. But soon enough, Namjoon’s own cock was aching and he couldn’t ignore that.

Reaching over, Namjoon found the lube and a condom in Yoongi’s nightstand drawer, just like he’d done so many times before. Yoongi’s eyes followed Namjoon’s movement, whining when he saw what Namjoon had in his hands.

Undoing his belt buckle, Namjoon pushed his jeans and underwear down around his thighs, hard cock slapping against his stomach. But that wasn’t enough for Yoongi. “Off the whole way.”

“What makes you think you deserve that? You’ve been a fucking pain in my ass all night.”

Yoongi stared back up at him, pawing at Namjoon’s jeans. He didn’t want to take the rest of his clothes off; he didn’t want to give Yoongi that satisfaction. But yet, Namjoon stood from the bed and dropped his clothes to the floor anyways before crawling back on top of Yoongi.

“Little bitch,” Namjoon grunted, smearing an excessive amount of lube on his fingers and pressing them against Yoongi’s rim.

Jerking away from Namjoon’s touch, Yoongi swore softly before relaxing back against the mattress. Namjoon gave Yoongi a few moments to get used to the cold before he was pushing into Yoongi’s hole. Namjoon didn’t allow much time for Yoongi to adjust to the feeling, quickly adding one, two, three fingers.

Yoongi was whimpering like he was in pain so Namjoon conceded and gave Yoongi’s cock a few gentle strokes. He continued scissoring his fingers inside Yoongi, barely applying any pressure to the head of Yoongi’s cock.

“I’m ready, I’m ready, please—”

Namjoon slapped the head of Yoongi’s dick, effectively shutting him up. Yoongi tried to close his legs, to shy away from Namjoon’s touch, but Namjoon’s body was in the way. There was nowhere for Yoongi to squirm to. He just had to lay there and take what Namjoon gave him.

“Be good for me,” Namjoon murmured, pulling his fingers out of Yoongi. He watched as Yoongi’s ass clenched around nothing, slowly rolling the condom on and smearing more lube over himself.

Yoongi’s thighs trembled as Namjoon finally pushed himself inside, burying himself to the hilt in one swift move. Namjoon bit back a moan, feeling the way Yoongi clenched around him. He kept still until Yoongi was whining for him to move, and then he stayed still for a little bit longer.

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Yoongi grit out.

“Actually,” Namjoon smirked, pulling back until only the tip of his cock was still inside Yoongi, “I’m the one doing the fucking.”

Before Yoongi could say anything smart back, Namjoon set out at a brutal pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with their moans soon filled the quiet of Yoongi’s bedroom, a perfect cacophony. Yoongi scratched at Namjoon’s skin, fingernails digging into the meat of Namjoon’s biceps.

“C’mon—”

“You know what, Yoongi?” Namjoon grunted, “I’m getting real fucking tired of you running your mouth.” Gripping Yoongi’s jaw, Namjoon commanded, “Open.” Yoongi complied, even going as far as to stick his tongue out, knowing what’s coming. Namjoon spit into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, roughly pushing his mouth shut. “Now shut the fuck up. Don’t make me say it again.”

Namjoon could feel his high quickly approaching so he slowed down, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. Sometimes Namjoon wouldn’t care about cumming first, too bothered with his own needs to worry about getting Yoongi off. But tonight he wanted to break Yoongi before letting either of them come undone.

Feeling Yoongi’s hands on the back of his neck, Namjoon bent forward, pressing his lips roughly against Yoongi’s. But that wasn’t what Yoongi wanted. He kept his lips pursed until Namjoon slowed down, stopped being so rough. Until their lips were carefully moving against each other, gentle licks into each other’s mouths.

Yoongi’s fingers played with the hair at the nape of Namjoon’s neck. One of Namjoon’s hands held Yoongi by the waist, slowly rolling their hips together. So consumed with pleasure, Namjoon didn’t let himself think about how different everything was this time.

Usually when they fucked, everything was fast and rough. All teeth and fingernails, biting and scratching. There was nothing gentle about it; sex was their way to get all of their hatred towards each other out of their systems. It was always more like fighting, instead of actual fucking.

Not this time.

Namjoon’s hands smoothed all over the lines of Yoongi’s body, allowing himself to get accustomed to Yoongi in a way he never allowed himself before. Yoongi followed suit, letting his fingertips trail all over Namjoon’s curves and edges. It was intimate, way too intimate for them, but Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Snaking a hand between them, Namjoon lazily curled his hand around Yoongi’s cock. It had been hard and neglected, laying against Yoongi’s lower stomach, and Namjoon decided to have some mercy on him. Yoongi whimpered into Namjoon’s mouth, clutching at him just a little tighter.

“Close, baby?” Namjoon mumbled against Yoongi’s lips, swiping his finger across the tip and smearing more precum everywhere.

Yoongi nodded vehemently, bucking his hips harder against Namjoon’s. Chuckling, Namjoon tightened his grip ever so slightly, flicking his wrist a few times. Whining loudly, Yoongi broke the kiss, head pressing back into his pillows. His chest rose and fell quickly because of his panting, Namjoon smirking into the skin of Yoongi’s neck.

“Just a little longer, baby,” Namjoon said, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder.

The coil was rapidly tightening in Namjoon’s lower stomach, threatening to burst anytime now. So he sped his thrusts back up again, snapping his hips against Yoongi’s. He was sure there’d bruises on Yoongi’s ass tomorrow, and he smirked again. Even after Namjoon was long gone, Yoongi would still have reminders of his presence littered all over his body.

Letting go of Yoongi’s dick, Namjoon pressed his finger into one of the bruises he’d sucked onto Yoongi’s neck earlier. Yoongi jerked, releasing a surprised groan before pushing into Namjoon’s touch.

“Such a little pain slut,” Namjoon hummed.

It seemed like all of the air was sucked right out of Yoongi’s lungs, body going rigid. His hands fisted the bedsheets, hips stuttering against Namjoon’s. Knowing Yoongi was so close to the edge, he wrapped his fingers tightly around Yoongi’s cock again, giving him a few rough strokes.

That was all Yoongi needed before he was coming undone, his warm seed landed in ropes against his stomach. Yoongi clenching around Namjoon was all he needed to succumb to the pleasure, hips stilling against Yoongi’s as he filled up the condom. Resting his head against Yoongi’s shoulder, Namjoon allowed them each a moment to catch their breaths.

Carefully pulling out, Yoongi whined at the loss. He weakly reached for Namjoon, letting his hands fall back to the bed when he was too far away to pull back. Namjoon stood from the bed, pulling off and tying the condom before dropping it in the waste bin next to Yoongi’s bed. Making the small trek to Yoongi’s bathroom, Namjoon wet a cloth before coming back to clean Yoongi up.

The older of the two didn’t put up much of a resistance, allowing Namjoon to clean up his stomach before manhandling him onto his stomach so Namjoon could clean his ass. Hearing Yoongi giggle into a pillow, Namjoon playfully swatted the back of Yoongi’s thigh.

“Brat,” Namjoon murmured before taking the cloth back to the bathroom and washing his hands.

Coming back into Yoongi’s room, Namjoon searched for wherever his clothes had been flung in his haste to get naked. Finding his underwear here and a hoodie there, it took Namjoon longer than he would’ve liked to find anything. Namjoon heard Yoongi moving around on the bed, cocooning himself in a mess of blankets.

“Hey, Joon,” Yoongi’s voice called to him softly from where he lay cuddled up in his blankets. Namjoon continued putting his clothes on, back turned to Yoongi. “Namjoon."

He grunted in lieu of a response. Yoongi seemed to take that as enough of a go-ahead.

"Is this all that’s ever going to become of us?” Yoongi sounded small and scared and nervous. Namjoon was sure that if he turned around, Yoongi would look just the same. But Namjoon didn’t turn around, and Yoongi continued anyways. “Is all we’re going to do is hate each other and fuck it out when it gets to be too much?”

Maybe in another world he and Yoongi could’ve been different. Maybe they could’ve been friends, or maybe even lovers if Namjoon was ever able to figure his shit out. But that couldn’t happen for them. Not this Namjoon and this Yoongi. The hatred between them ran too deep to ever be reversed. There was only one thing that this universe’s Namjoon could do.

“I never liked you, Yoongi. You were just something warm and wet to stick my dick in."

With that, Namjoon left Yoongi’s apartment and never looked back. He never went back to that club where he had first met Yoongi, and he never saw the older rapper again.