Taehyung really hadn’t meant to be late.
He valued time. His own time, other people’s time, the fact that this was his 42nd audition in two months and he really didn’t have the wiggle room to blow it because he was late.
Things happened, though. And Taehyung preferred to take things in stride rather than in a big, full blown panic. He leaned more towards the shit-happens-for-a-reason mindset of things anyway, so when he woke up that morning with his lip aching because the silver loop through it had caught on his pillow case again, saw that the clock at his bedside read he had twenty minutes to get to a studio that was forty minutes away, Taehyung just kind of—laughed. He moved a little quicker, but he took care to clean the piercing through his lip (he’d been getting kind of lax with it lately) picked out a shirt that wasn’t totally wrinkled, brushed his hair even, taking note that he was gonna have to buy some more red dye on the way home to keep it bright.
Taehyung’s roommate had left the keys for his car on the kitchen counter, and with his bass slung over his shoulder in its bag, Taehyung shouted his thanks towards the closed door down the hall. It went unanswered probably because Jongup was still asleep, but it was the thought that counted. Taehyung would buy him a smoothie or something later.
He didn’t particularly like to drive in the first place, so he sure as fuck didn’t speed, despite the fact that he’d have to to even get to the place and not be at least fifteen minutes late already. In stride, Taehyung thought.
He was glad for this mindset, because if Taehyung had been speeding, he would have driven right by him.
As it was, Taehyung saw the car with its flashers on pulled up on the shoulder of the road immediately. Its hood was up, and someone small and slight was ducked under the rusting metal.
Taehyung checked around him before slowing his speed as he passed, pulling off as well and stopping about fifteen feet from the parked car. He waited for a few cars to speed by before hopping out and walking over to the person whose back was to Taehyung, still bent over the engine.
“Hey there,” Taehyung said. “Need a hand?”
“Fuck off,” was the gruff response, and Taehyung stopped, a surprised laugh slipping out of his mouth. He surveyed the situation with a raised brow, taking in the broad shoulders, the big set of hands dipping in between the cylinders in the engine, black tattoos scattered over the back of them.
“I guess I could,” Taehyung said, and the figure finally straightened, turning to level Taehyung with a withering glare.
Taehyung blinked at the pretty features of the guy’s face, not exactly what he’d been expecting, not altogether unwelcome.
Memories flooded Taehyung’s head, one in particular; avoiding lunch in his shitty middle school cafeteria and running into the same face that was staring back at him now, soft cheeks and pouted pink lips, back then, usually pressed around the butt end of a cigarette.
“You’re gonna get in trouble if you’re caught out here, kid.”
His knuckles were usually bruised and scraped, beanie more often then not shoved over his hair.
“Still better than being in there.”
The older boy’s eyes were sharp, but not unkind when they looked Taehyung over. “What’s your name?”
“Taehyung. What’s yours?”
The boy took the cigarette out of his mouth, dropped it on the cement and crushed it under the heel of his vans. “Yoongi.”
Yoongi had become a regular habit during Taehyung’s lunch times after that, always present in the lot that connected the middle school and the high school, where Taehyung took to skulking off to whenever he could manage. Yoongi was almost always there, smoking a cigarette or listening to music. On a few stellar occasions, the cigarette was a blunt.
“You could get arrested,” Taehyung said, sitting down next to Yoongi, leant up against an abandoned car tire propped by the decrepit fence that had separated their schools.
Even though they were in the same place now, Taehyung in his first year of high school, Yoongi in his third, they still found their way to that abandoned lot.
“Just don’t tell anyone,” Yoongi drawled, offering Taehyung one side of his headphones.
Taehyung smiled. Their shoulders brushed as he popped the ear bud in. “It reeks.”
“S’almost done. They don’t care about shit here, anyway.” Yoongi’s eyes half closed as he took a deep drag, the end of the blunt lighting up orange. His lips looked chapped, and Taehyung unconsciously licked his own.
Yoongi’s eyes fluttered open and caught Taehyung staring. He tilted his head towards Taehyung, mouth quirking a bit as he exhaled slowly, some of the smoke washing over Taehyung’s face. When Yoongi spoke, his voice was throaty. “You wanna try?”
Taehyung tilted his face towards Yoongi, too. They were close, smoke still thick in the air between them. Taehyung looked down at Yoongi’s mouth again, then back up at Yoongi. He was still smiling, but it was a softer expression, and Taehyung, harboring months of what he’d accepted not that long ago as a crush, felt his heart skip a beat.
“Yeah,” Taehyung said.
“Mm’k,” Yoongi murmured. His eyes flicked over Taehyung’s face before he shifted on the asphalt, moving slowly until his hand was cupping Taehyung’s neck, bare of tattoos, at that time. Yoongi had his first, the dark side of the moon across the back of his right hand. It was that hand that he used to press against Taehyung’s skin.
“Here, breathe in for about three seconds,” Yoongi said softly, putting the end of the blunt in Taehyung’s mouth. He closed his lips around the end, damp from Yoongi’s spit. Taehyung ignored his leaping heart and breathed in, one, two, three, then, blinking at Yoongi, waited.
“Exhale,” Yoongi whispered, then leaned close to breathe in the smoke Taehyung pushed out of his lungs.
A few memories stood out vividly in Taehyung’s mind from when he was younger, and when he felt Yoongi’s breath wash over his face, less than a centimeter from his own, Taehyung knew this would be one of them. He was a little dazed from the smoke, tickling the back of his throat, even more so by the heat of Yoongi’s palm against his neck, the tickle of his mouth over Taehyung’s before Yoongi adjusted himself so he was simply breathing in the excess, without their lips touching.
Taehyung, young and head over heels, surged forward until their mouths were properly touching again, and there, sitting on potholed concrete with a cloud of smoke hovering around them and Yoongi’s hands (both of them, now) gently cupping under his jaw, is where Taehyung had his first kiss.
It was short, and clumsy, Taehyung entirely too eager, but Yoongi didn’t pull back right away. He tilted his head, deepened the kiss a little more, prolonged it, thumbs stroking along Taehyung’s jaw softly before he eventually pulled back.
He looked at Taehyung, and Taehyung thought Yoongi was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen in his life.
Even though Yoongi moved away the following year, off to chase his dream job of making music, and even though it had been over five years since they last saw each other, since they last spoke, because life was like that, Taehyung would be hard pressed to forget his face. It was the same face he was looking at now, all soft cheeks, pouted pink lips and a cute round nose. Yoongi’s eyes were sharp as ever as he gave Taehyung a quick once over.
“Yoongi?” Taehyung said after a long beat.
Yoongi’s brow furrowed, and Taehyung saw the recognition click several seconds later.
“Taehyung,” Yoongi said. He leaned back against the hood of the car. “Fucking shit. I barely recognized you.”
Taehyung grinned at him, hurrying forward and pulling Yoongi into a hug without further preamble, humming when Yoongi made a surprised sound. Taehyung put him down, stepping back and eyeing the flush in Yoongi’s cheeks. Interesting. “I got tall. You didn’t.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi said, pushing Taehyung’s shoulder. He was staring at him, his red hair, his long legs, his shoulders, so much broader than they’d been in high school, the tattoos, of which he’d had none when he and Yoongi had known each other. Taehyung could feel his gaze, like a real touch on his skin. “Jesus, fuck. It’s been, what?”
“Five years?” Taehyung mused, reaching out and taking Yoongi’s right hand in his, smiling at the moon tattoo on the back of it, now mixed and blended with many other designs. “I moved here a couple years ago.”
“No shit,” Yoongi said. He looked down at his hand in Taehyung’s, let Taehyung look across the back of it for a minute before taking control and flipping Taehyung’s in his. He smiled at the butterfly across the back of it. “Drew this, didn’t you?”
Taehyung grinned. “Yeah.”
Yoongi let out a soft breath, releasing Taehyung’s hand and leaning back against his car again. “Goddamn. Taehyung. So let me guess,” he said. “You saw someone on the side of the road and pulled over out of the goodness of your heart.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Taehyung said, giving Yoongi’s car a critical look. “Isn’t this the car you drove in high school?”
“So show some respect for your elders,” Yoongi said, catching Taehyung’s judgment immediately.
Taehyung pursed his lips. “Now let me guess. You’ve not called anyone to come help you. How long have you been out here?”
Yoongi tsked, tongue briefly clicking against the back of his teeth, and Taehyung saw a flash of silver. Taehyung felt something warm bloom in his stomach. That was new.
“Well,” Taehyung said. “I can’t just leave you abandoned on the side of the road. You know that thing isn’t starting up again today, don’t you? Maybe ever.”
Yoongi crossed his arms. “I remember you being more optimistic.”
Taehyung eyed the car, trying not to look too amused. “It’s smoking.”
Yoongi whirled, groaning at the smoke that had indeed started to rise from the right side of the engine. “Ah, fuck. Damn it, I’m fucking late, too.” He looked at his watch, then back at Taehyung, who smiled at him easily, gesturing back at his own car.
“C’mon. I can give you a lift.”
Yoongi eyed Taehyung for another moment, then relented, following him to the car and splitting around the back to approach the passenger door. He paused there, stopping directly across from Taehyung. His eyes flicked over Taehyung’s face again, dark and considering. Taehyung saw him linger in a few places, the bright color of his hair, the ring through his lip, and the tattoos snaking around his neck. He wasn’t exactly subtle. Taehyung supposed he’d always been more direct than not.
Taehyung preferred that. He lifted his chin a little, let his head tilt, kept his smile in place, eyes steady. “What are you waiting for? I promise I don’t bite.” Before ducking into the car, he grinned. “Not unless you ask really nicely.”
Yoongi followed him in. “Too bad, isn’t it? I’ve never been nice.”
Taehyung started the engine, not bothering to reel in his grin. “You were always nice to me.”
Yoongi didn’t say anything, but when Taehyung looked at him, Yoongi was smiling.
Taehyung reached over and brushed a finger over the small swell in Yoongi’s cheek, a direct result of his smile. “Still so pretty.”
Yoongi turned his head, eyebrow lifting in surprise. “Gotten bold, have you?”
“What gave it away?” Taehyung said, shooting a smirk in Yoongi’s direction as he pushed his hair off his forehead, other hand curved over the steering wheel. “I missed you.”
Yoongi propped his elbow against the door, looking at Taehyung curiously. “Did you?”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed, glancing down the road and pulling in sharply when he deemed it clear. “I mean, don’t worry, I didn’t remain friendless after you graduated, but of course I missed you.”
Yoongi reached up, curling his hand around the handle above the passenger window. “You didn’t have a phone for me to text.”
“I do now,” Taehyung pointed out. He nodded at the road ahead. “Where exactly are we headed?”
“Take a left in two blocks.” Yoongi leaned back in his seat, glancing around the car. Taehyung saw him double take the bass bag in the back. “You still play.”
Taehyung hummed. “Sure do. What about you? Did you get the job you always hoped for?”
Yoongi’s chuckle was dry. “Not at first. Took a couple years of slumming it, but I’m in the right place now, even if it’s not the right seat.” Before Taehyung could press for more, Yoongi did the same to him. “What about you? Where are you headed with this?” he said, gesturing back at the bass.
Taehyung grimaced, a little sheepish. “I was headed to an audition. I’m about twenty minutes late now, so I guess that’s out.”
Yoongi shifted, taking hold of the handle over the passenger window. “Audition, huh?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung said. He hit the brakes hard, cursing the car in front of them under his breath. Yoongi didn’t look perturbed, just wrapped his fingers around the handle a little more tightly to stop himself from lurching forward. “For a band. I’ve been doing that for…well, for a couple years straight now, I guess.”
Yoongi tapped his fingers against the handle. “Not going great?”
“Does it ever?” Taehyung said dryly. “I know how it goes. A million no’s before you get the yes.”
“I do know,” Yoongi said. “So how’re you getting by? I know your dad won’t help for shit.”
Taehyung laughed. “You’re right, he won’t. I, ah, work at a bar, actually. It’s why I overslept today, I was up till four. And I tutor on the side, do bass lessons.” Taehyung flicked on the turn signal, swinging left at Yoongi’s nod. “I’m in school, too.”
Yoongi looked through the windshield. “You sound excited about that last one.”
Taehyung shrugged a shoulder. “More in school because—well, I guess I don’t really know why, and that’s the issue. I just wanna play music.”
“In a band?” Yoongi sounded curious.
Taehyung pursed his lips. “Sure. What, what’s that face for?”
Yoongi was the one to laugh now. “Watch where you’re driving.” When Taehyung turned back towards the road, Yoongi continued. “I just think if you wanted it, you wouldn’t have been late.”
Taehyung shot him a look, just a quick one. “It would only be ten minutes late if I wasn’t a saint and saved you from the side of the road.”
Yoongi smirked. “A saint. With that hair?”
Taehyung shook his bangs out of his eyes. He was probably due for a haircut. “You don’t like it?”
Yoongi chuckled, looking away. “I didn’t say that. Take another left here.” When Taehyung did, Yoongi added, “it suits you.”
“I’m leaving my number here, since you’ve actually got a phone now,” Yoongi said, and Taehyung peeked over to see Yoongi placing a scrap of paper in the glove box. “I don’t have any cash, but I can pay you back later.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung said. “I fully intend to take you on that date I’ve been wanting to have with you since I was fourteen.”
Yoongi snorted. “Wow. Really?”
Taehyung was unapologetic. “Really.”
Yoongi considered him. “Since you were fourteen?”
“C’mon,” Taehyung said, holding back his smile. “You knew I had a crush on you before I even knew.”
Yoongi chuckled into the back of his hand, looking out the window. “You’re really something.” He glanced at Taehyung. “You’re not as shy as you used to be.”
Taehyung waved him off. “We are our worst versions of ourselves at that age.”
Yoongi’s lips quirked. “I didn’t think you were so bad.”
Taehyung took a moment before speaking again. “All right, well you know my watered down life story to date. Tell me yours—wait.” Taehyung blinked, squinting at the buildings they were passing. “Hey, are we getting close?”
Yoongi hummed. “It’s two streets down.”
Taehyung looked at Yoongi, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Watch where you’re driving.”
Taehyung turned back to the road. “I know where I’m going. Why don’t you answer my question?”
Yoongi sounded amused. “You didn’t ask one.”
Taehyung hummed low in his throat. “You’re being coy, pretty boy.”
“You did not just call me pretty boy.”
Taehyung rubbed his upper lip over his lip ring. “You are pretty.”
Yoongi made a noncommittal noise, and Taehyung tried to remember the building his email had said the audition was being held at, because if he was remembering right, they were very close.
“Well when I graduated high school, moved here, put my nose to the ground, and after a lot of very terrible and minimum wage jobs,” Yoongi said, “I landed a volunteer slot at a production company. Coffee, cleaning, bitch work. But I worked my way from that, to where I’m at now.”
Taehyung tapped the steering wheel. “Which is?”
“Same shit, plus more involved with the music.” Yoongi drummed his leg with his fingers. “And I get paid, which is nice. Turn right here.”
Taehyung turned down the second street, and there was the glass building housing the production company where his audition was meant to be held, immediately on the left.
Taehyung pulled into the small lot in front and said to Yoongi, “If you tell me you work for the people who own this band, I’m going to be cross.”
“All right, I won’t,” Yoongi said, popping open the door and climbing out. He leaned down so he could look at Taehyung properly and grinned, sudden and wide. “Thanks for the ride, seriously. You were right about being too late to make the audition, though.”
Taehyung jerked, leaning wildly over the console so his and Yoongi’s faces were only a foot apart. “You do work here. I gave you a ride — we have history. Give me a slot.”
Yoongi’s grin widened. “Maybe when I’m the boss. I’m about to get my ass reamed myself.” He licked his lips, silver barbell glinting as he took in Taehyung’s earnest expression. “I really do wish I could help. It was nice to see you, Tae.”
Taehyung felt something warm bloom in his chest. “It was. I guess I’m okay with being late, otherwise I wouldn’t have ran into you.”
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed a little, thoughtful or suspicious, Taehyung wasn’t sure. He beamed at him regardless.
“That date,” Yoongi finally said, nodding at the glove box. “What did we do on it?”
Taehyung smiled. “We played music in my room then made out for three hours.”
Yoongi pressed his face into his arms, shoulders shaking with a sudden laugh. “That’s it?”
“I was fourteen. That was it. All I knew.”
Yoongi lifted his face, eyes glittering. “And now?”
The warmth in his chest expanded, Taehyung leaned forward. “Now I think I could teach you a few things, for once.”
Yoongi’s expression was hard to read, and although he didn’t say anything before shutting the door with a snap, the glint in his eyes gave him away.
Taehyung smiled, leaning back against the driver seat as he watched Yoongi walk towards the building’s front door. He had on a T-shirt, oversized but as he climbed the steps to the building, Taehyung got a quick glimpse of the pert little curve of his ass. That was new, too.
Taehyung bit his lip, face muscles twitching at the dull ache from the barely healed piercing, then lurched forward, opening the glovebox and pulling out the piece of paper, with Yoongi’s name, a slew of numbers below it, and below that, a scribbled message.
i missed you too
When Taehyung went back to the apartment a couple hours later, he had a smoothie in each hand and Jongup was awake, stretching in the corner of the room.
“Hey,” he said, perking up when Taehyung lifted one smoothie. “Dude, you’re the best. Is that pineapple?”
“Of course,” Taehyung said, handing him the keys and the smoothie at once. He hitched his bass a little higher on his shoulder and Jongup took the straw out of his mouth to ask, “how’d it go?”
“Fantastic, actually,” Taehyung said breezily, striding towards his room.
“Sounds promising,” Jongup said uncertainly. “Did they like you?”
“I think he does,” Taehyung called before shutting the door to his bedroom.
Taehyung stood there for a moment, looking around the small space of his room, neat and small, sparse of much else besides his bed and his instruments, lined up on the far wall.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, slowly walking over to the instruments and pulling his bass off his shoulder. He knelt, just long enough to take the bass out of the bag and put it back on its stand.
“Not today, love,” Taehyung said, picking at the E string. It twanged, low and muted without an amp, and Taehyung bit down on the inside of his cheek properly, running over the day’s events in his head.
No audition, but he’d met someone. And not just anyone. Yoongi—his Yoongi. And Taehyung thought there was far more value in that than a spot in a band whose name he’d already forgotten.
Taehyung plucked at another string. He had class tonight. Some statistics class, one of the prerequisites for his business major. He kind of hated it.
Taehyung sucked on the sore spot inside his cheek, then on his lip ring. He rang his fingers once more over the bass strings, then with a small exhale, pulled out his purchases from the drug store. Before he got to work, he sent one message.
it’s me pretty boy ❤️
A couple hours later, Taehyung’s hands were covered in red dye when his phone lit up with a message. He watched it flash across the screen, working to apply the last of the dye a bit faster before rinsing his hands. He sat on his bed with a towel around his neck, and unlocked his phone.
what are you doing tonight?
there's this party
got a band for it
bassist cant come
mmmm you haven’t heard me play in years
how do you know i'm still any good
call it a hunch
maybe you just want a pretty face to look at
could say the same thing about you
at least you know you’re hot
i don’t know any small parties that have live music
i never said it was small
there’s a few execs in town
big producers, one of the sub labels president’s, a few bands you’ve probably heard of
so you in?
only if you promise you’ll wear something pretty for me
you know i could disinvite you
don’t you want to see what i can do?
or what i’ll wear for you?
lol fuck tae.
party starts at 9
Taehyung turned his head to look over his instruments, then his school bag, crumpled by the door. His laptop was charging on the floor in the corner of his room, where he left it plugged in for as long as possible since its battery life was shit and barely lasted the entire class. Which went until nine exactly.
Taehyung looked back at his instruments.
“Well, loves,” he said, gaze settling on the Washburn. “Maybe today’s the day after all.”
i’ll see you there
About twenty minutes later, with steam from the shower fogging up the bathroom and the water running pink from the remnants of his hair dye, Taehyung let himself think of Yoongi in a way he hadn’t for a long, long while.
Taehyung thought how Yoongi’s hands would feel on his skin, how they had felt those few times they’d done a little more than kiss. The memory of Yoongi’s lips on Taehyung’s throat and his hands pressing against the small of his back was hot, and far, far too distant. So Taehyung, with his fingers curled around his cock, drew up more images, things he could only imagine. What Yoongi would look like, properly on his knees with Taehyung filling his mouth. What Yoongi would look like bent forward on all fours.
How quick he’d listen when Taehyung told him to spread himself.
He thought of Yoongi’s fingers, how hot they’d always looked strumming his guitar, how much better they’d look working himself open, shit, working Taehyung open.
Taehyung panted, pressing his forehead against the tile, hand working himself fast. Imagined pulling Yoongi onto his body until he was straddling Taehyung’s face, imagined nuzzling into the sensitive skin just over his balls while Yoongi flicked his tongue (pierced, it was fucking pierced now) over the head of Taehyung’s cock. Imagined gripping Yoongi by the back of the neck and fucking into his throat.
“Fuck,” Taehyung gasped against the wet tile, orgasm building in his stomach as he imagined himself coming, coming so fucking much, all over Yoongi’s face, imagined white catching in his eyelashes, his hair, streaked across his cheek.
Taehyung groaned, head tilting back as he squeezed his fingers around the base of his cock hard before pulling away completely. He stared up at the ceiling heart pounding.
Thought about Yoongi looking up at him, dark eyes glinting with cum dripping from his mouth.
Taehyung waited a moment, the curled his hand back around himself.
They’d never fucked, never gotten much past fumbling makeouts in literal alleyways, a bedroom once or twice when their parents were out. Lots of kissing and clothed grinding, one clumsy hand job, and one blow job where Taehyung had come so fast in Yoongi’s mouth he’d whined about it for days after just so he could hear Yoongi call him cute again.
Cute, he’d said, mouth still full of Taehyung’s cum. Only when Taehyung, dazed, met his eyes did he swallow, pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s hip. Cute.
“Shit,” Taehyung said, water pooling around his lips as they dragged over the tile, cock throbbing in his hand. Shit he’d forgotten how much he’d liked Yoongi.
Shit, Yoongi was still so fucking hot.
But Taehyung wasn’t a kid anymore, not the same kid who came within seconds of a mouth on his dick. While he’d love for Yoongi to fuck him into next Tuesday, in fact, had every intention to let him do just that, Taehyung’s cock jumped at the thought of giving it to Yoongi.
He wanted to wrap Yoongi up in his arms then shove him down on a bed (he could now, easily, Taehyung had gotten so much bigger) and show Yoongi exactly what he could do. Whisper it in his ear until Yoongi was panting and grinding up against him, let Yoongi bite and lick into the tattoos crawling up his neck as he fingered him open, one, two, three fingers deep. Taehyung’s first jerked around himself, precum beading at the tip. He bet Yoongi could take four. Bet he’d love it, bet he’d blush real pretty when Taehyung told him what a good slut he was—
“Ah,” Taehyung hissed, squeezing the base of his cock again just before his orgasm overcame him, and he huffed, pressing the length of his body against the wall, shivering at the coolness from the tile. He swallowed thickly taking a few slow breaths before opening his eyes. He breathed in and out, staring at the angry red flush of his cock for a moment before chuckling into his wet arm.
“Shit,” Taehyung whispered to himself, a pleasant buzz coursing through his blood. He allowed himself a few more strokes, thought some more about showing himself off to Yoongi, what he could give and take, muffling his choked laugh into his arm when he staved off another orgasm just a minute later. His entire body was tingling, and all he could think about was how nice it all felt.
He stood in the warm water for another moment before switching the temperature to cold, rinsing out the rest of his hair dye before stepping out of the shower, cock still half-hard against his stomach.
Taehyung had been expecting something on the larger scale, just based on Yoongi’s texts, but he was still a bit taken aback when he stepped out of the cab and took in the house before him.
House didn’t seem like quite the right word, but mansion was a little much. It was huge, to be fair, about two stories. The build was one of those post-modern designs, square and angular and with lots of glass. The top floor was dark, the lower floor bright with the interior light, but empty save for furniture.
There were loads of people already, even though it was barely past nine. The land in front of the house was small, barely even a yard, so it was packed close with the party goers not yet entering. Because of the floor to ceiling glass windows, Taehyung could see inside there was even more of a crowd, filling up the entry way and the space behind it before a wall blocked Taehyung’s line of vision.
As he made his way through the small crowd outside to the front door, Taehyung was mildly amused at the juxtaposition between the fancy design of the house and the people milling around and within it. Everyone was dressed down, lots of ripped jeans, T-shirts, shirts as dresses, combat boots for shoes, exposed skin heavily inked, the works. Taehyung, with his faded jeans and dark shirt, blended right in.
There was a girl standing by the front door with a clipboard, hair bleached white and shaved on one side of her head. She raised an eyebrow at Taehyung as he stopped in front of her.
“You on the list?” she said.
“My name’s Taehyung,” Taehyung said, smiling at her and jerking his head at his bass bag hanging over his shoulder. “Yoongi invited me.”
The other eyebrow went up as she looked down at her clipboard, flipping a couple pages. “Yoongi, huh? He doesn’t normally put people on—ah,” he said, tapping on a line. “There you are.” She tapped on the glass door, and a burly guy standing on the other side of it opened up and gestured for Taehyung to come inside.
“So fancy,” Taehyung said, turning his grin to the bouncer, who just pointed down the entry hall. Taehyung saluted him with one finger before making his way down the center of the house. It was dimmer inside than Taehyung had a originally thought, a haze of smoke permanently hovering, and there was a steady thrum of music coming from speakers scattered throughout the house.
Taehyung weaved his way through the people inside, taking care not to whack anyone with his bass as he passed a few open rooms, including a sitting area and a kitchen. The interior layout had a lot of random walks interspersed throughout the ground floor separating the rooms, but it was almost a straight shot from the front door to the back door.
Taehyung stepped outside, marveling at the space of the backyard, much bigger than the front. Despite that it was still crowded with people, talking loudly or hanging by a stage that was obviously temporary but not a bad set up for being just that. There was already a band playing, one guitarist and a drummer, plus their singer growling into the mic.
Taehyung shifted, stepping towards the stage when someone said, “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it on time.”
Taehyung twisted to the left, where Yoongi was standing a few feet away, by the edge of the brick patio that extended about fifteen feet from the back of the house. He had a drink in his hand, and although his expression was neutral, Taehyung thought he was pleased to see Taehyung.
Taehyung grinned. “You look pretty.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, but it was true. His hair fell dark and soft across his forehead, and there were smudges of black at the corners of his eyes. Taehyung could see black polish on his nails, tatted fingers curled around the cup of his drink. His shirt hem hung near his thighs, and the creamy skin of his legs peeked through the rips in his jeans.
He was so fucking pretty.
Yoongi took a sip from his cup, eyeing the bag over Taehyung’s shoulder. “You do something to your hair?”
Taehyung flicked his fingers through his bangs. “Just freshened up the color a bit. You like it?”
The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirked. “You’re fishing, Tae. C’mon—the rest of the band you’ll be playing with is somewhere around. You guys don’t need to go on for another hour or so.” He was turning back towards the house, and Taehyung followed him with out hesitation. “I’ll show you where to put your shit till then, introduce you.”
“So, it’s nice here,” Taehyung said, humming when Yoongi held open the door for him and led him around the edge of the room to avoid the growing crowd of people. “Whose house is this, exactly?”
Yoongi paused as they passed a table of drinks, looking over his shoulder as he grabbed a beer from an ice bucket and offered it to Taehyung.
“Thanks,” Taehyung said, popping it open with the opener sitting near the edge and following Yoongi as he led him to the far corner of the room, where a stairwell was tucked away.
“It’s my boss’ boss’ boss,” Yoongi said in reply to Taehyung’s question, walking up the stairs with a familiarity impossible to miss. “Nice, right? Motherfucker is the VP of the whole company, so this is just one of his homes.”
“Hm,” Taehyung said, running his palm up the sleek black railing as he trailed behind Yoongi, admiring the dim light fixtures built into the wall near the ground, guiding their way. “So what does your boss do?”
“Produces for one of the recording labels. A smaller one.”
“And you really just do coffee runs and other bullshit?” Taehyung said as the steps stopped and Yoongi led him towards an alcove with a few closed doors. This part of the house was obviously more private to the owner and not meant for everyone, but Yoongi was clearly familiar with the space, opening up one without hesitation, a closet-type room that was housing at least a dozen other bagged instruments. Yoongi pointed at an empty space, and Taehyung rested his in it before Yoongi shut the door again. He turned towards one of the other doors, one with a keypad lock installed above the handle. Yoongi punched in a few numbers and pushed open the door.
“Only touch if you must,” Yoongi said, and Taehyung brow was furrowing as he worked the words over in his head until Yoongi flicked on a switch that turned on the decorative lights in the room, illuminating display cases and the like. Taehyung’s jaw dropped a little as he took in the wide interior of the room, and the instruments filling it.
“I do help my boss produce,” Yoongi said. “You know, give him a good direction and then let him take most of the credit for it.” He was watching Taehyung stare around the room. “Like it?”
“Oh fuck,” Taehyung said, blinking as he looked around. “You shouldn’t do that. You should keep credit, pretty. I know how talented you are.” Taehyung nodded at a bass a couple feet to his left. “Is that a ’63 Thunderbird?”
Yoongi didn’t say anything, and when Taehyung tore his stare away from the bass, Yoongi’s eyes flicked away, but even in the lowlight, Taehyung could see a pink dusting across his cheeks.
“A ’64, actually,” Yoongi said, shuffling forward a little to stand closer to where Taehyung was, peering at the vintage bass. “Good eye.”
“I like to think so,” Taehyung said, smiling at Yoongi.
Yoongi’s expression remained neutral, but the pink in his cheeks hadn’t fully faded. “Heart hole over there on the wall,” he said, nodding at the four-string acoustic hanging on the wall behind glass several feet away.
“Shit,” Taehyung said wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to play that.” He looked around again, more slowly, taking it all in. The collection was gorgeous, a fairly equal mix of guitar and bass, vintage records and instruments hanging on the walls, more hanging in shelves, the rest displayed artfully throughout the expanse of the room. In the far corner was a grand piano, the interior glowing with white LED lights.
“They’re just cool with you bringing a complete stranger in here?” Taehyung said when he gaze landed back on Yoongi, who was watching him quietly. “There’s easily a fortune’s worth of instruments in here.”
“Well,” Yoongi drawled. “One, you’re not exactly a stranger. And two—I wasn’t planning on letting you out of my sight.” He said it so casually, Taehyung nearly let it pass over his head without comment. But.
He raised an eyebrow at Yoongi, who’s lips finally quirked into something resembling a smile.
“You don’t, huh?” Taehyung purred. “Planning to watch me all night? Good thing I got pretty for you.”
Yoongi’s eyes dipped down and up Taehyung’s body, settling on his face. “Don’t exactly have to do much.”
Taehyung grinned at him. “Why don’t you come here?”
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, like he was loathe to do it just because Taehyung had asked. He’d always been stubborn.
Taehyung smirked. He raised a hand, letting it hover over the neck of the Thunderbird, close, but not close enough to touch. Yoongi’s gaze flitted between Taehyung’s face and his hand.
“Or you can stay there,” Taehyung hummed, moving his hand down a little. “And I can just tell you what I’d do if you did come a bit closer.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi said. His tongue poked out to wet his upper lip, and Taehyung stomach twisted pleasantly at the glint of his tongue piercing. “Go ahead.”
“Well,” Taehyung said. His hand stilled, and he held Yoongi’s gaze. “I’d put my hand on your hip. Slide up to your ribs, hold it there so I can feel you breathe, feel how tiny you are under me.”
Yoongi’s cheeks were pink again, but his eyes were dark as he listened to Taehyung. He kept still, almost like he was suddenly hyper aware of his own breathing, and the thought had Taehyung smiling, moving his hand back up the neck of the bass again, still not touching it, although he imagined he could feel the barest hint of the strings tickle his skin.
“I’d stand there and look at you and tell you how pretty you are,” Taehyung said. He let one finger stroke over one string, so lightly it didn’t even vibrate at the touch, although Yoongi did shift a little, glancing down, to where Taehyung was brushing his finger over the instrument.
He looked back at Taehyung. “Would you just look all night, or would you actually do something?”
Taehyung pulled his fingers away, this time strumming a note as he did. He turned away from the bass, towards Yoongi. “Why don’t you come here and find out?”
Yoongi tsked, softly. “You’ve really gotten bold, huh. Why don’t you do what you came here for first?”
Taehyung grinned, undeterred. “And what exactly do you think I came here for, Yoongi?”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “I’d love for you to tell me.”
Taehyung smirked. His hands dragged over the button of his jeans. “Why don’t I show you?”
Yoongi’s expression didn’t flicker, even when Taehyung popped open the button, nor when he pulled down the zipper.
“Show me, then,” he pressed when Taehyung paused.
“Kay,” Taehyung said, his whisper throaty as he turned around and slowly pushed his jeans past the curve of his ass. He stopped, bringing his hand back up to the black waistband of his boxers and looking over his shoulder, to make sure Yoongi was still watching.
“Just a peek,” Taehyung murmured, then pulled his boxers down too, bunching them where his jeans were before dragging his hand back up until it was splayed over one cheek, which he gripped and pulled to the side.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Yoongi hissed, stepping forward then freezing when Taehyung shot him another look.
“Now you want to come here?” Taehyung said darkly, dragging his finger over the dark plug snug between his cheeks. He pressed on it, feeling the glass nudge his inner walls and exhaling slowly at the rush. His eyelashes fluttered and he pulled the boxers back up over his ass, followed by his jeans, which he re-fastened easily before turning to Yoongi with a sly smile.
Yoongi’s eyes were glittering. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“S’that a pun?”
“Good to know your terrible sense of humor hasn’t changed at least.”
Taehyung grinned. “You like it?” He smoothed his hands over the front of his jeans. “You like imagining what else you could put in me?”
Yoongi’s expression was hungry. “Fuck, Taehyung.”
Taehyung flicked his lip ring with his tongue once before he said, “I like imagining how fucked out you’re gonna look when I’m done with you.”
Yoongi actually grinned then. “Cute, kid. You think you’d be calling the shots?”
Taehyung pursed his lips at the old nickname. “Why don’t you watch me tear up the stage tonight with a plug in my ass and ask me that again after?” he said lightly, stepping past Yoongi and towards the door. He let a beat pass, then smiled, glancing back. “Now weren’t you gonna introduce me to my band mates for the evening?”
As Yoongi led Taehyung back down the stairs, he put a hand on the small of his back, and kept it there.
Taehyung caught his eye a couple times, but Yoongi didn’t falter, and when he steered Taehyung towards the corner of the back room, back on the ground floor, he pressed hard enough with his fingers that Taehyung felt the skin beneath his shirt push, and give.
“Slow your roll there, daddy,” Taehyung said into his ear.
Yoongi’s eyes flashed. “Need I remind you of what you showed me not two minutes ago?”
“I’d love that,” Taehyung purred.
“Yoongi, is this your guy?”
Yoongi looked around at the new voice, and Taehyung followed suit, smiling at the girl that stopped in front of them. She was gorgeous, the curve of her legs accentuated by dark red pants, hair long, full and falling in waves across her shoulders and down her back.
“Hey, Ailee,” Yoongi said, jerking his chin at Taehyung. “Yeah, this is Taehyung. No Sunmi, but he’ll do the trick.”
“Hmm,” Ailee said, but she was smiling, sticking out a hand for Taehyung to shake. When he did, her grip surprised him, and she gave a little tug, urging him forward. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the others, they’re out in the back.”
Taehyung smiled at Yoongi, who finally took his hand off his back, although he didn’t have much choice, as Ailee was pulling Taehyung after her.
“You can come too, Yoongi, don’t need to pout,” Ailee laughed, and Yoongi scoffed as he stepped after them.
“He’s my responsibility and all.”
“I’m sure,” Ailee said slyly, winking at Taehyung, who winked right back at her.
“Yeah, I’ll just be over here,” Yoongi said, making to turn the other direction, but Taehyung caught his forearm, raising an eyebrow.
“Come on,” he said, amused. “Can’t keep an eye on me from in here, can you?”
Yoongi’s lip twitched, and Taehyung’s grin widened.
They walked outside and halfway across the yard like that, Ailee’s hand wrapped around Taehyung’s wrist and Taehyung pulling Yoongi right along behind them. Ailee being in the lead gave Taehyung a good opportunity to look around. The yard was spacious, lit in hues of red and purple from LED light strips hiding behind every possible corner—from the sharp corners of the house, from under the surfaces of the various tables scattered along the brick patio, from places where the patio floor ended. It gave the atmosphere a heady, sexy sort of vibe. Taehyung dug it.
There were a lot more people out here than there had been in the front too. Most of them had a drink in their hands, and Taehyung caught a group doing what looked like lines of coke off one of the tables by the patio edge, although no one blinked twice.
Ailee steered them off the brick of the patio and to the side. She grinned at the people who greeted her as she passed, but otherwise didn’t stop until they were next to the tall, green hedges that acted as a fence for the yard. She tapped on the shoulder of two people, pulling them away from the larger group they were chatting with so she could introduce them to Taehyung.
“Jiwoo, Chanyeol,” Ailee said, nodding first at a girl with her hair cut short, white blonde hair falling in waves across her shoulders, then to the taller boy next to her with tattoo sleeves crawling up each arm. “This is our Sunmi-fill in for the night. Taehyung.”
“Hey,” Taehyung said warmly, shaking their hands. “Excited to go up there with you.”
“Dude, we’re just glad Yoongi happened to know a bassist that could fill in so last minute,” Jiwoo said with a good-natured groan, patting Taehyung on the back as Chanyeol nodded. “Well, a bassist we can trust, anyway. Sunmi got food poisoning and we thought we were fucked.”
“Happy to help,” Taehyung said. He looked over at the stage, where a band was still playing. “What’s the set look like?”
“Should be easy,” Ailee said. “Doing some covers, and then originals. I got you sheet music, just in case, but Yoongi said you’re pretty good at improv.”
“I am,” Taehyung said, glancing at Yoongi, who just shrugged a shoulder and said, “figured.”
Ailee gestured at Chanyeol. “Chanyeol plays guitar, and Jiwoo’s on the drums. I pick up my guitar sometimes but mostly do vocals. Sunmi backs me up on the vocals sometimes, but you don’t have to sing.”
“I can sing if I need to,” Taehyung said. “I’m not terrible. We can go with the vibe.”
“That’s cool,” Ailee said. “I’m not too worried. Yoongi says your sick on the bass.”
Taehyung was pleased at Yoongi’s faith in him.
“How long have you been playing?” Chanyeol asked.
“Somewhere around ten years.”
Jiwoo looked between Taehyung and Yoongi. “You guys know each other well?”
Taehyung chuckled. “Kind of. We went to high school together. We just ran into each other today after losing touch for a few years.”
“Accidentally?” Jiwoo said, raising her eyebrows. She had a piercing through the her septum, an ornate gold loop that glinted in the yard’s low light. “That’s some fated shit.”
“I agree,” Taehyung said seriously.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Taehyung believes in the universe having a hand in our lives and all that bull.”
Ailee snorted. “Yoongi, where’s your sense of wonder?”
“He’s stubborn,” Taehyung said, digging his thumb playfully into Yoongi’s side, grinning when Yoongi glowered at him. “But seriously. What are the odds of us ending up in the same city?”
“Since we both came here for the music scene, I’m guessing,” Yoongi drawled. “High.”
Jiwoo put her hands on her hips while Chanyeol grinned. “Was he like this in high school too?”
“With five times the angst,” Taehyung said, shaking his head.
“Fuck off,” Yoongi said easily, and Taehyung muffled his low giggle into the back of his hand.
Yoongi stepped away to grab more drinks, and Jiwoo volunteered to join him while Taehyung hung back with Ailee and Chanyeol. They talked about their music, how long the band had been together, the tour they were set to go on in a few months’ time. Yoongi and Jiwoo returned before long, Yoongi silently offering Taehyung another beer, which he took with a smile. Yoongi held his eyes for a moment, before settling in beside him.
His hand slid over Taehyung’s lower back there, settling much closer to the curve of his ass. Taehyung didn’t miss this.
Taehyung got along with Ailee, Jiwoo, and Chanyeol well, conversation flowing easy, which was good, and would make playing with them better. Taehyung liked to have fun while he played, and that was always easier when you played with friends.
“All right,” Ailee said after a while, glancing up at the stage, where the band was staring a new song. “We’ve got maybe twenty minutes. Wanna start getting ready?”
“Let’s do it,” Chanyeol said, and Jiwoo nodded.
Ailee grinned at Taehyung. “Let’s fuck it up.”
Taehyung wiggled his fingers at Yoongi as he was dragged off. “Don’t miss me too much.”
Yoongi shook his head after him.
Taehyung had forgotten how much he liked playing for a crowd.
Between auditions, school, work, and tutoring, it had been a while since Taehyung had actually gone and just—played for people, played for fun.
He’d gone through a few of the band’s songs with Ailee beforehand, and after doing the first two tracks, Taehyung had a solid feel for her and the rest of the group. He’d always been good at picking up the music quickly, finding the bassline on the fly. If the grins he saw Chanyeol and Jiwoo exchange when he had a little too much fun with the bridge in the fourth song in, and the way Ailee leaned heavily against him, back to back as she belted out a strong high note, he thought they were coming together quite well.
The crowd was another indicator, he supposed. House parties were usually hit or miss, more often than not consisting of people who paid half-attention to the live band, at the most.
At best, drunken party goers zoned in on the live music and went in, and tonight was actually leaning towards that. The people closest to the stage, at first, were the only one jumping around and cheering them on, but a few songs in Taehyung realized the radius of people cheering and clapping along with their music had widened.
As a matter of fact, it widened as far back as the brick patio, which was where Yoongi was, leaning against one of the high top tables. Every time Taehyung looked over, Yoongi seemed to be talking to someone new, but one thing that didn’t change was his eyes, hot on Taehyung.
If there was a chance that every small movement didn’t remind Taehyung of the glass plug in his ass, Yoongi’s eyes on him was a constant reminder in itself.
A promise, if Taehyung was so bold.
(And he was.)
“Dude,” Ailee said, whirling around as she cleared the stage’s side steps. Her cheeks were flushed and her voice was breathless. She was beaming, and had to shout over the noise of the crowd they’d left cheering behind them. “You’re unbelievable. You’re so good, how has no one scooped you up yet?”
“Taehyung, nice work,” Jiwoo exclaimed, clapping Taehyung on the back and high-fiving Ailee. “The shit you did at the end just now? Goosebumps.”
“I played off your energy,” Taehyung said earnestly, bumping fists with a grinning Chanyeol as he brought up the rear descending the steps. “You’re touring soon, aren’t you? You’re going to blow up. You rock.”
“Honestly, that’s something we—” Ailee paused, glancing between Jiwoo and Chanyeol. She sighed through her smile, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her phone. “Look, I gotta figure out some stuff but—can I text you?”
Taehyung fingered the shoulder strap of his bass. “Sure.”
Ailee grinned, handing her phone over for Taehyung to type his number in. “Look, I can’t make any promises, and it depends on how Sunmi is feeling, but we’ve been…” she shook her head, tapping a few more buttons on Taehyung’s phone before handing it back to him. “I’ll just text you, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung said, eyes wide. He glanced around, looking for Yoongi, but it was harder to see through the crowd without the elevation of the stage. “I, ah—“
“Yeah, go, go find Yoongi,” Ailee said, waving him off with a grin. She poked her tongue between her teeth, eyes scanning the crowd. “Good luck getting through, though. I think you made quite the impression.”
Taehyung smiled at her, giving his phone number to both Jiwoo and Chanyeol in kind before he turned to carefully shoulder his way through the crowd. Fortunately, the bass sticking out past his shoulder gave people enough reason not to crowd, but there were still plenty who stopped directly in front of him, chatting him up about the show he’d just put on.
Taehyung didn’t mind. Although he wasn’t sure if he would call himself a people-person per se, he was good at faking it. It wasn’t hard to be friendly, and he liked making people smile.
“What’s your name?” the girl currently in front of him asked, hand brushing the back of his forearm.
“My name is Taehyung,” he said easily, flashing a grin her way. “Did you like the show?”
Her eyes widened. “You were on fire, Taehyung. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m okay, thank you,” Taehyung said easily, briefly putting a hand on her shoulder as he stepped around her. “I gotta put my stuff down, I’ll see you around, pretty.”
She stared after him, too stunned to stop Taehyung as he turned and continued, only to be stopped by another girl two feet later, eyes heavily rimmed in black, lips bright red.
“Hi,” the girl said, sticking out her hand for Taehyung to shake, and he did, still smiling. “You’re getting mobbed,” she noted, glancing over his shoulder, then back at him and mirroring his smile. “Guess I’m guilty too.”
Taehyung tilted his head, shrugging lightly. “I guess I did okay up there.”
The girl threw back her head and laughed, shifting so her side brushed Taehyung’s body. “You know you did more than that. Taehyung, right?” He hand was on his arm now too, but her fingers were firmer than the first girl’s had been. Her next words were bolder, too. “This is my uncle’s place you know. I could show you around. There’s a room upstairs, off-limits to everyone else.” Her voice was warm, friendly, fingers tickling up the back of his arm as she blinked up at him. “You wanna check it out?”
“Heh,” Taehyung said, shifting his bass strap with a couple fingers. “What’s your name?”
“Mina,” she said, red lips curving as Taehyung looked down at her. “You can call me whatever you want, though.”
Taehyung grinned, more amused than anything. He took a step forward, away from Mina. The plug inside him shifted and rubbed in a way that made his blood run hot. “Maybe in a little. There’s something I have to do first.”
Mina didn’t give in quite so easily, stepping along with him. “I’ll help you put your bass away. Not many people have access upstairs, and—”
“I can take him,” a low, familiar voice drawled, and Taehyung, still grinning, looked around to see Yoongi had made his way through the outer edges of the crowd and was standing just a few feet away from them, one thumb hooked through a belt loop.
Mina put a hand on her hip, aiming her smile at Yoongi, although there was a sharpness to the curve of her lips now that hadn’t been there before. “Yoongi. How thoughtful of you. Ever think Taehyung might prefer—ah—my company, to yours?”
Taehyung had to swallow a shrill giggle at the innuendo, Yoongi’s widening smirk making that difficult.
“No, I didn’t,” he said, eyes flicking to Taehyung’s. “’sides, Rey would kill me if he heard I let you bring a fuck buddy to his display room.”
Mina bristled. “Yoongi, you’re such a—”
“It’s okay, pretty,” Taehyung said, briefly stroking under Mina’s chin. She blinked, mouth open mid-word as Taehyung stepped over to Yoongi. “Yoongi and I go way back. I’ll see you around?”
He said it so brightly, so easily that Mina nodded before she seemed to realize what she was even agreeing to, and before she could press further, Yoongi had already put his hand low on Taehyung’s back, knuckles bumping the bass as he lead him back to the house.
“You killed it,” Yoongi said as they stepped over the threshold of the back door. “Shit, Taehyung, you could give Sunmi a run for her money, and that’s saying a lot.”
“Did I look pretty?” Taehyung said, tugging on the back of Yoongi’s shirt as they neared the stairs.
Yoongi spared him a glance, tongue swiping over his bottom lip before he continued, with purpose, up the stairs. Taehyung was still holding onto his shirt, and was nearly dragged as a result of how quickly Yoongi was moving.
“Been a while since I’ve seen the crowd here take to someone so quickly,” Yoongi said, voice softer as they moved away from the noise of the first level. “Mina doesn’t usually go on the prowl so early.”
“You mean Mina does that to everyone?” Taehyung pouted.
Yoongi snorted. “I think you’ll get over it.”
“But she so nicely offered to show me the upstairs room,” Taehyung pointed out. He could almost hear Yoongi rolling his eyes.
“Sorry, did you want to go back down, get the tour from her instead?”
There was no bite to the words, but it was fun to play around. Taehyung pretended to think about it, only breaking the serious set of his face when Yoongi looked back at him dryly.
“I don’t think she realized you’d already shown me around,” Taehyung said with a laugh, glancing around as Yoongi let him past the closet that housed the musicians’ instruments, and past the room with all the collector items. “Oh, is there more?”
Yoongi stopped in front of another door, looking at Taehyung over his shoulder as he pulled a small ring of keys out of his pocket. “Up to you.”
Taehyung exhaled softly, reaching out to grasp Yoongi’s upper arm just as he put the key in the slot. He pushed, not roughly, but with a strength that had Yoongi blinking as he found himself with his back pressed up against the door, Taehyung stepping right into his personal space.
Yoongi had to lift his chin to look up and meet Taehyung’s eyes, but there was nothing small about the look in his eyes. For a few moments, they just stared at each other.
Yoongi spoke first, voice low and throaty. “I gotta tell you something.”
Taehyung’s bass was digging into his shoulder and the party was going strong downstairs, but he felt no rush, no pressure or urge to hurry this along.
“I’m all ears,” Taehyung said. He lifted his hand from Yoongi’s arm, running a couple fingers gently down the side of his face, dragging under his chin but not pulling away.
Yoongi rubbed is lips slowly together. “I tried to look you up, once I’d known you graduated.”
Taehyung blinked. “You what?”
Yoongi head shifted against the door as it lolled, but he kept eye contact with Taehyung. “I knew like, one chick from your class. Asked her if she had a number. She told me no, that you’d left town maybe a week after graduation, didn’t say goodbye to anyone.” Yoongi chuckled. “Your dad told me when I called, if I ever found you, to tell you to fuck off.”
Taehyung snorted, eyes widening as he flicked a few stray strands of black hair out of Yoongi’s eyes. “You called my dad? Wow. You really did miss me.” Taehyung laughed, knocking their foreheads together. “Oh my god.”
Yoongi raised his eyebrows, unashamed. “I said I did. You’re—” Yoongi finally broke eye contact, turning his head away, but Taehyung didn’t mind it, taking the opportunity to brush his lips over Yoongi’s cheek.
Softly, Taehyung kissed it, breathing in Yoongi’s small, responding exhale. Against his skin, Taehyung whispered, “I’m what?”
Yoongi swallowed, and Taehyung only heard it because he was standing so close. Yoongi’s face gave nothing away, save for the slightly pink tinge of his cheeks, his expression was calm as ever. He turned his head back, and their mouths were only centimeters apart, now.
“You’re special. I’ve always thought that.”
Taehyung’s smile grew slowly, but surely. “You thought I was special?”
Yoongi’s lips twitched. “Still think so, you annoying piece of shit.”
Taehyung laughed, surging back, planting his hands on either side of Yoongi’s head. “You’ve changed too, Yoongi. Seventeen-year-old you would have rather died than say something so sappy.”
Yoongi smirked. “Well, I know you like that shit.” He paused, licking his lips. “I’m serious though. And you’re still goddamn special. Everyone out there tonight saw it, y’know?”
“Right now,” Taehyung said, eyes dipping down to Yoongi’s mouth, “I only care if you did.”
“Well,” Yoongi said, then shut his mouth, looking at Taehyung expectantly. Taehyung didn’t make a move right away, stood there against the door, comfortably still, as Yoongi stared up at him. When he started to fidget, he broke the silence between them.
“Well what are you waiting for?”
Taehyung smiled, ducking down but not yet closing the distance between them. He could feel his bass shift against his back, the head of it waving in his peripheral as his body shifted. “I’ve got a question, too.”
Yoongi’s exhale was sharp. “Go on.”
“Did I look pretty tonight, or not?”
Yoongi clicked his tongue, and Taehyung could hear the clink of metal against teeth as Yoongi pursed his lips at him. “And after all this time, you’re still a needy little brat.”
“Who’s needy?” Taehyung breathed, grasping Yoongi’s chin in his hands and swiping his thumb over Yoongi’s lower lip. The skin whitened for a brief second where he pressed, before blood flowed back in a rush, pinkening it even more. Taehyung could feel Yoongi’s breath in a pant wash over his skin, hot and damp.
“Are you going to kiss me,” Yoongi said in a low, dangerous voice, “or what?”
“Feel free to hold on,” Taehyung told him with a crooked smile, and before Yoongi could ask him what the fuck he was talking about, the inches between them disappeared and Taehyung was kissing him.
For all his sharp words and hard looks, Yoongi’s mouth was soft. It had always been—Taehyung remembered marveling at the fact, the night after their first kiss, his first kiss, playing over and over again the feeling of Yoongi’s mouth against his. Soft, as his mouth guided the glide of their lips. Soft, even as they pressed firmly against Taehyung’s. Soft, as he drew Taehyung in completely.
Now, it was the same, except now—now, Taehyung kissed Yoongi back properly. He pressed Yoongi’s lower lip between his own, dragging back just enough for Yoongi’s lip to pop free from Taehyung’s before Taehyung was kissing him again. Yoongi’s upper lip now, then the lower, then both altogether, puckering his mouth against Yoongi’s with a confidence he hadn’t had the last time they’d kissed, a firmness that had Yoongi’s breath catching in his throat as he wound his arms around Taehyung’s hips and held him.
“Doing okay?” Taehyung murmured against his mouth, dipping his tongue out to taste. Yoongi’s hands around him his waist squeezed tightly before one abruptly dropped down to grip tight, right over Taehyung’s ass. The neck of his bass knocked against Taehyung’s shoulder from all the movement, but Taehyung barely noticed with his ass clenching, walls tight around the plug.
Yoongi pressed harder, his palm digging right where the glass sat between Taehyung’s cheeks, and Taehyung growled even as Yoongi chuckled lowly under him.
“Doing just fine,” Yoongi said. He lessened the pressure slightly, only to push again, and Taehyung had to struggle not to let his head fall back and just enjoy the teasing. Yoongi’s palm was big and strong as he kneaded his ass, right over where the plug sat. Every time he pressed, the plug pushed deeper for a few brief moments until Yoongi eased off again.
Taehyung didn’t swallow his moan, but instead of standing there and taking it, he surged forward and kissed Yoongi all the harder.
He didn’t ease, this time, tongue pushing past the loose seam of Yoongi’s lips to lick inside his mouth. Taehyung could feel Yoongi’s piercing against his own tongue, cool and slick as he slid over it. He wanted to draw Yoongi’s tongue into his mouth, bite lightly on the tip before sucking around the barbell until Yoongi moaned, low and unbidden, right into Taehyung’s mouth.
They’d get there, Taehyung was sure. He wasn’t quite done tasting Yoongi yet, enjoyed licking over the roof of his mouth, behind his teeth, filling Yoongi’s mouth with Taehyung’s own tongue so Yoongi could taste him. When he pulled back, it was only to bite Yoongi’s mouth, his lower lip, then his upper lip, before he dived back in, kissing and tasting and god.
They were both breathing hard now, panting in the brief moments their mouths disconnected. Yoongi was grinding his hand against the plug even as he rolled his hips against Taehyung’s. Only when the head of Taehyung’s bass, still swinging over his shoulder, nearly took out Yoongi’s eye did he make a move to stop, turning his head to the side and reaching for the door handle.
“You’re gonna fuck up your instrument,” Yoongi said, voice rough as Taehyung licked up and down his neck, sucking skin into his mouth hard enough to make Yoongi’s voice catch. His bass was knocking into the door behind Yoongi, but Taehyung just grinned.
“She can take it. Maybe you can’t?”
“Fucking please,” Yoongi muttered. The lock clicked and Yoongi was quick to open the door, yanking Taehyung in after him.
The room was dark, but Yoongi didn’t turn on the lights. Taehyung understood after he gave his eyes a moment to adjust. This room was one of the exterior rooms, which meant the right wall was floor to ceiling glass. As a matter of fact, it was facing the backyard, where the party was still in full swing on the ground floor. The light from outside helped illuminate where they were, which looked to be some sort of office. The desk directly opposite them was a simple thing, just a tabletop, no drawers, and there were a few guitars in their stands behind it, a drum set pushed in the corner.
Yoongi dragged him towards it, taking Taehyung’s bass by the neck as he pulled it over his head and placing it carefully flat on the floor, beside the desk. When he straightened, Taehyung was sitting on the shiny black surface, swinging his legs and smiling pleasantly at Yoongi.
“Hi,” he said, tapping against the wood desktop as Yoongi approached. Yoongi’s fingers played with the clasp of Taehyung’s pants. He pulled them open, thumb dragging over the happy trail peeking out over Taehyung’s boxers. When he looked back up at Taehyung, his eyes were dark.
Taehyung grinned, scooting towards the edge until his feet could touch the floor again. He pushed Yoongi away, lightly. “We should establish some things.”
Yoongi blinked, raising an eyebrow. “What things?”
“Like what it means if either of us say red, yellow, or green.”
Yoongi’s brow furrowed. He licked his lips, playing with the piercing in his tongue against his lower lip. “Like traffic lights?”
“Smart boy,” Taehyung cooed, stroking under Yoongi’s chin.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes, angling his chin away. “Stop, slow, and go. I’m not a moron.” He paused, roving up and down Taehyung’s frame. “What do you know about that shit?”
Taehyung brushed a few bright strands of hair from his eyes. “If we do this, I’ll show you. If we do it more than once, I can really show you.”
“If?” Yoongi said lowly. He stepped closer, and Taehyung let him. “What, you aren’t sure about me?”
Taehyung’s insides burned. He willed himself to simmer. “No, I’m sure.”
“When,” Taehyung echoed, and when Yoongi pulled him down with one hand around the back of his neck, Taehyung was quick to deepen the kiss immediately.
Yoongi, despite being about two heads shorter than Taehyung with the added height of the desk he sat on, was the one leading this kiss this time. He flicked the pierced tip of his tongue over Taehyung’s lips, the tongue piercing clinking against the hoop in Taehyung’s lip before Yoongi pushed inside his mouth, rubbing over Taehyung’s tongue, tangling them together. Taehyung didn’t bother to swallow his groan, allowing himself a brief moment to cup Yoongi’s face in his hands before nudging him away again.
Before Yoongi could say anything, Taehyung was moving, lifting his ass away from the desk, enough to pull his pants down until denim and cotton pooled at his ankles. He kicked them off, swallowing at the cool air on his cock, the stretched skin of his asshole. Slowly, Taehyung turned, looking at Yoongi over his shoulder. “Well?”
Yoongi’s face didn’t change, but his eyes blazed, hands twitching at his sides. He pressed his black nails to his lips, eyes flicking from the plug in Taehyung’s ass to the smug expression on his face, down to the tattoos lining the sides of his legs.
“Like I said. Special.” Yoongi paused, then, “I can’t believe you.”
Taehyung grinned. “No?”
“No.” Yoongi stepped forward, hand at his mouth dropping to smooth over Taehyung’s ass. Taehyung had to strain to keep watching Yoongi, but it was worth it, to see the look in his eyes. “Taehyung…”
Taehyung laughed softly, reaching back to circle his fingers around Yoongi’s wrist. “What are you doing? Touching? You didn’t even tell me I was pretty.”
Yoongi’s hand stilled, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s. “You idiot. You’ve always been pretty.”
Taehyung nudged Yoongi’s hand away, still smiling. “What about tonight?”
“Fucking pretty, Tae. And you were fucking pretty when you picked me up the other day. And you were fucking pretty on stage, and you’re fucking pretty now.”
He went to press his hand against Taehyung’s ass again, and Taehyung let him, bending so his elbows were on the table. “Were you thinking about this when you watched me?”
“You keep asking me questions you already know the answers to.”
Taehyung turned his head to look at him again. “I want to hear you say it.”
Yoongi chuckled. His finger traced around the stretched skin of Taehyung’s rim, where the plug disappeared inside him. “Isn’t that just too bad, baby?”
Taehyung’s lips twisted into a smirk, and he pushed himself off his elbows, turning quick as a whip, one hand flying to Yoongi’s hair. With the strands tangled in his grip, Taehyung squeezed, eyes trained on the way Yoongi’s head tilted back into it, how his lips parted, allowing a small gasp to come through.
“Oh well,” Taehyung said, tugging. Yoongi’s eyes flashed, but when Taehyung pulled down, Yoongi bent his knees until they touched the floor with a dull thunk and he was looking up at Taehyung, eyes gleaming dangerously from under his lashes. “Guess we’re doing this my way. What’s your color, pretty?”
Yoongi blinked, then laughed, darkly amused. “Green for go, isn’t it?” Yoongi grinned widely at Taehyung suddenly, poking the tip of his tongue out between his teeth. “Go.”
Taehyung observed him for a quiet moment, taking in the dark, excited gleam in Yoongi’s eyes, the dark flush beginning to stain the apples of his cheeks. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at him when the moment stretched into another. Impatient.
“Stay there and watch,” Taehyung said, yanking back on Yoongi’s hair one more time before releasing him and turning back around so his ass was directly in front of Yoongi. He braced himself with one arm on the desk, reaching back to grip the plug firmly between his finger. He twisted it around, swallowing his shuddering gasp, turning his head enough to peek at Yoongi. “Since you’re good at watching, aren’t you?”
“If there’s something good to watch,” Yoongi shot back, but there was a rough edge to his voice that made Taehyung smile. He pulled the plug out a little, circling it a few times to stretch himself further. There wasn’t much lube left, so the movement stung more than normal, but Taehyung welcomed the stretch and the twinge, huffing hotly as his hole clenched.
“So,” Taehyung breathed, slowly pulling the plug out. His eyes briefly rolled to the back of his head, and he bit down on the silver loop in his lip to ground himself as he fucked himself with it a few times. He was sensitive, and his cock was quick to get hard. “Is it good?”
Yoongi’s response was low. “So fucking good.”
Taehyung paused, plug halfway out. He wiggled it a little, then said, “lick.”
Taehyung had expected a rebuttal, some verbal back and forth before Yoongi actually leaned forward to lick him, but not two seconds later there was the sound of metal against glass, and then Yoongi’s hands were spreading his cheeks, giving his tongue easier access to lick around his rim, where the plug disappeared inside Taehyung.
Taehyung’s breath hitched, elbow sliding on the polished wood surface of the desk as Yoongi did what Taehyung had asked and licked him, the silver sphere of the barbell in his tongue clinking wildly against the plug. Yoongi squeezed his ass hard enough for Taehyung to feel the sting of his nails digging into his skin, but Taehyung welcomed the pain, the way Yoongi spread his cheeks widely so he could lap around the plug with ease.
Taehyung sucked in a sharp breath as he pulled the plug completely out, placing it on the desk with a solid thunk. He planted his hand on the desk beside it as Yoongi made a throaty, pleased sound, dragging his tongue over Taehyung’s twitching hole.
“So sloppy and loose,” Yoongi said, voice gruff and slurred. He dug his nails in deeper, spread Taehyung wider. “Can fuck my tongue right in.”
But before he could do so, Taehyung reached back to grip Yoongi by the hair again, keeping him at bay.
“Taehyung,” Yoongi growled. “You fucking tease.”
“I’m not,” Taehyung panted, giving Yoongi’s head a light yank. Yoongi hissed, scraping his nails down Taehyung’s ass in response. “I’ll give you what you want, baby. Get you gagging for it.”
“What are you fucking waiting for, Tae?” Yoongi said, and gave Taehyung’s ass a playful little slap, even as Taehyung pulled hard on the strands of his hair.
“If you need to stop,” Taehyung said, keeping Yoongi carefully in place with his grip. “Pinch me hard.”
Yoongi tsked. “I got it. Green. I think you think you’re meaner than you actually are.”
“You think you’re so tough, don’t you, Yoongi?” Taehyung teased. “You barely hit me just now. Is that the best you got? Was earlier the best you could do?” Abruptly, he tugged Yoongi close, until his mouth was brushing between Taehyung’s cheeks. “You’ve been wanting it all night, love. Maybe longer, yeah? Show me how badly.”
Yoongi growled, scraping red lines all the way down to the backs of Taehyung’s thighs before dragging them back up and gripping Taehyung tight in his palms. He spread Taehyung wide enough for it to hurt, but the pain was easy to forget when Yoongi’s tongue flattened over Taehyung’s asshole and pressed.
“Yeah,” Taehyung urged, tightening his hold on Yoongi’s hair, urging him closer. Yoongi made a low, but otherwise indecipherable sound, fastening his lips around Taehyung’s hole and sucking. He kissed him there a couple times, then, when Taehyung tightened the hand in Yoongi’s hair into a fist, he pressed the tip of his tongue against his rim again, with more finesse now, a goal clear from the way his the muscle narrowed to briefly dip inside.
Taehyung shuddered, heading tipping backwards, hips rolling back against Yoongi’s face. Yoongi didn’t fight it, let Taehyung tug his face right against his ass, flicking his tongue over his entrance several times before pushing it fully inside.
“Yoongi,” Taehyung groaned, angling his hips so his cock could get some friction against the desk. “Thought about your tongue inside me so many times. Fucking me—get it deeper, Yoongi, I wanna feel you deep—”
Yoongi huffed out against Taehyung’s hole, but Taehyung’s hold in his hair was tight, so there was no way for him to pull back and gasp for air. He did that right against Taehyung’s ass, breath hot and stuttering, and Taehyung moaned, holding Yoongi by the hair all the more firmly. “Good boy, good boy—”
Yoongi growled against him, and then his tongue was plunging deep inside Taehyung, piercing rubbing against his walls as he pushed in, pulled out. Taehyung exhaled, pleased, when Yoongi’s tongue dragged briefly right over his hole before shoving back inside again, in and out, in and out.
Taehyung’s arm was starting to ache from the angle he was holding Yoongi at, but not enough for him to stop—instead, Taehyung tugged Yoongi away, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to assess. Yoongi’s face was flushed, jaw wet, lips red, and his pupils were blown when he glanced up to meet Taehyung’s gaze.
“Spit,” Taehyung told him.
Yoongi grinned, resecuring his grip on Taehyung’s ass, keeping him spread—and when Taehyung turned back around, he could feel the glob of saliva land right over his hole. He swallowed his shudder, pulling Yoongi back in place so he could spread it with his tongue, and then continue to lick inside him, wetter and messier than before.
Taehyung moaned into the empty room, relishing in the way Yoongi tongue-fucked him in earnest, despite the fact that he was struggling to breathe. He licked and kissed and sucked, so fervently that Taehyung thought it only fair to reward him. Every so often, Taehyung pulled Yoongi away, just long enough for him to gulp for air before Taehyung tugged him back again. Yoongi was quick to put his mouth on Taehyung’s rim every time, tongue licking with a finesse that was impressive, mind-boggling.
Taehyung, admittedly, was feeling a little weak.
Having Yoongi on his knees behind Taehyung, licking at Taehyung’s asshole like he’d rather die than do anything else, was something Taehyung hadn’t let himself imagine, not like this. Which was just as well, since nothing could have come close to the reality.
Yoongi was good, so fucking good, clearly aware of how to use his tongue, the metal pierced through the tip of it. He circled Taehyung’s hole with purpose, rubbed inside him with confidence, and, when Taehyung’s grip on him didn’t give him much room to move, he just kissed and licked wherever he could reach, heedless of the spit spreading down Taehyung’s crack, along his chin.
With a rough gasp, Taehyung pulled Yoongi’s head away and released his hold on him, bowing forward on both his arms for a brief moment before he turned.
Yoongi was still on his knees, wiping his arm across his mouth. Despite that, his face was still damp with spit, face flushed pink, hair an absolute wreck and sticking up in about seven different directions. His eyes glittered when they met Taehyung’s.
“You stopped me before I could make you come,” Yoongi said. His voice was rough.
“Right,” Taehyung said, pushing himself back onto the desk. He leaned back, spread his legs slightly. “I want to come when you fuck me.”
Yoongi laughed, casting a glance towards the window. There was new music now, another band likely on the stage. He looked back at Taehyung, licking his already spit-slick lips. “In here? Right now?”
Taehyung tossed his head a little, lifting one leg onto the desk, exposing himself to Yoongi’s hungry gaze. “You wanna wait?”
Yoongi pushed himself to his feet. He strode over to Taehyung in two large steps, planting his hands on either side of Taehyung’s hips. “No.”
“Good, because I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Taehyung said lowly. He nodded to his pants at their feet. “I’ve got a condom in my front pocket. And a lube packet, if you want.”
“If I want?” Yoongi scoffed. He reached up, patting Taehyung’s cheek roughly enough it could almost be considered a slap, and Taehyung’s responding grin was sharp, daring. Yoongi leaned forward, biting down on Taehyung’s lower lip once before he pulled away, ducking down to rifle through Taehyung’s pants.
“Take this,” Taehyung said, waving the slicked up glass plug at Yoongi, who rolled his eyes but took it and placed it in the pile of clothes.
He straightened with the lube and condom pinched between his tatted fingers, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them and his boxers down just enough to expose his cock. Taehyung opened the lube packet as Yoongi rolled the condom on his dick, tossing the foil aside before gripping Taehyung around the thighs and tugging him forward.
For a beat, they paused, just looking at each other. Yoongi’s cheeks were flushed, eyes dark, and Taehyung reached out with his free hand to hold side of Yoongi’s face.
“Hey, Tae,” Yoongi said. He turned his head, nipped a little at Taehyung’s palm. His smile was crooked when he turned back to Taehyung. “You good?”
Taehyung smiled, pushing himself forward so he could kiss Yoongi softly on the mouth. “I’m so good. I really did like you, back then. And I like you now.”
Yoongi cupped the back of Taehyung’s head, kissing him back in kind. “You’re fucking sappy.”
“I thought you said I was special.” Taehyung spread the lube on his hand, then slicked up Yoongi’s dick. “Yoongi. Fuck me.”
“Okay,” Yoongi murmured. He pulled Taehyung a little further forward, just enough so his ass hung slightly off the edge. He nipped at Taehyung’s mouth, wrapping his legs around his hips. “Long fucking legs. Jesus fuck, you really grew two feet.”
“I’m an overachiever,” Taehyung said, exhaling softly against Yoongi’s mouth. He felt the blunt head of his cock brush between his cheeks, and he hiked his legs higher up Yoongi’s back. “Yeah.”
“Feel free to hold on,” Yoongi parroted, a dangerous edge to his voice that had Taehyung grinning, and then he was slamming his hips forward, hard enough that the desk scraped back several inches.
Yoongi didn’t give Taehyung a change to adjust his position, had stepped forward into the desk’s skid and was snapping his hips forward again not seconds later while Taehyung was still trying to regain his balance.
Taehyung groaned, scrambling for a grip around Yoongi’s neck as Yoongi fucked into him, hard and fast. Taehyung struggled to arch his body with how Yoongi was pounding into him—it would be easier to lie there and just take it, would probably feel hella good because Yoongi knew what he was doing, clearly knew how to split someone open on his cock.
But Taehyung sure as shit wasn’t about to just lie here while Yoongi fucked him, no matter how good the fucking was, so he found a grip around the desk’s edge, drew one leg back so he could brace his foot against the desk too, giving him enough leverage to hold his position and arch his body, start fucking himself back on Yoongi’s cock.
“Tae—” Yoongi groaned when Taehyung clenched around Yoongi, grin wicked. “Taehyung—”
“Fuck me like that, Yoongi, just like that,” Taehyung said, voice breathless but still commanding. He laughed a little when he saw Yoongi’s teeth snag at his own lower lip. Taehyung reached forward, wrapping his hand around Yoongi’s neck, tugging him down so he could bite it himself. “Just like that.”
“Fuck,” Yoongi growled. The desk scraped loudly against the floor again, and Taehyung squeezed Yoongi’s neck harder, licking up the natural flush in his cheek, fucking himself as best as he could down again and again on Yoongi’s cock.
Having the plug inside him the past few hours had been nice, but Yoongi’s cock was warm and pulsing, filled him up just right only to be pulled back out again, then fucked back in the second Taehyung’s hole twitched. He and Yoongi thrust their hips towards each other before they really even had time to adjust to Taehyung being empty. Their skin slapped together loudly, and Taehyung could feel sweat dampening his hair, making his shirt stick to his chest.
Yoongi slammed forward hard, and the desk slid back so abruptly that Taehyung had to put his foot down on the floor to catch himself, laughing against Yoongi’s mouth. He kept his other leg wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, clutching the desk with one hand as he pulled their bodies flush against each other.
“Later,” Taehyung panted, dragging Yoongi’s shirt up his back, nails scraping pink, swollen lines up Yoongi’s skin as he did, “you can fuck me raw, then eat your cum out of me. I’ll hold you against me, sit on your face till you choke on it.”
Yoongi made a sound that was almost a snarl, and Taehyung eyes gleamed, taking advantage of the brief stutter of Yoongi’s hips to lower his other foot to the ground, swing Yoongi around and lift him onto the desk so their positions were switched. Without waiting, Taehyung crawled up onto the desk after Yoongi, bracketing his ribs with his knees, then lowered himself back down on Yoongi’s cock.
“You fucking—” Yoongi hissed, scratching up the tatted sides of Taehyung’s legs. He fucked his hips up, then gasped involuntarily when Taehyung rolled his hips—then rolled them again, and again, and again.
“Put your hands around my neck,” Taehyung growled, grabbing for Yoongi’s hands, but Yoongi smacked him away so he could do it himself. His eyes lingered on the tattoos creeping up from Taehyung’s collarbones before he squeezed curled his fingers over them, tugging Taehyung down as he did so he could kiss him.
“Like that?” Yoongi said hotly, licking up across Taehyung’s parted lips. Their piercings clacked together, and Taehyung grinned, panting as he nodded. Yoongi kissed him properly, or as properly as he could with how violently they were both moving, Taehyung slamming his hips down to meet Yoongi’s every upward thrust.
“I’m close,” Taehyung said breathlessly, voice hoarse from Yoongi’s hand around his neck. He was surprised he’d lasted as long as he had, what with the edging from before the party, Yoongi’s tongue in his ass just minutes earlier. Still, he didn’t ease his movements, as a matter of fact, dropped down harder, moaning at the sting of their skin coming together.
Yoongi laughed, hips snapping upwards faster, tongue thick and wet in Taehyung’s mouth. He flicked it, kissed Taehyung’s bottom lip messily. “Good. Don’t think this desk can hold out much longer.” His hand slid around to the back of Taehyung’s neck, crept up to grip the hair at the nape. He pulled Taehyung down further, breathed his next words hotly against his mouth, “Tae. Come for me.”
Taehyung’s orgasm didn’t hit him immediately, but it only took a few more thrusts before he was coming in spurts all over the front of Yoongi’s shirt, which he was quick to yank up, just because he wanted to see his cum smeared across the pretty, pale expanse of Yoongi’s skin. He could feel himself clenching, involuntarily this time, hard around Yoongi’s cock, and he held his hips down, ground himself on Yoongi’s cock, biting down over his lip piercing as he rode out his orgasm, urged Yoongi to the edge of his.
“Tae—” Yoongi grit out, and then he was jerking up hard into Taehyung, eyes squeezing shut as he rutted out his climax. Taehyung resented the condom, wanted to feel Yoongi’s cum deep inside him, filling him up, dripping around Yoongi’s cock as he continued to fuck up into him, until the last of his orgasm had ebbed away.
Taehyung planted his hands heavily on the desk on either side of Yoongi’s head, staring down at him as they both caught their breaths. Yoongi’s hands splayed around Taehyung’s thighs, rubbing slowly up and down at he looked back up at him.
“Taehyung,” Yoongi finally said, breaking the silence. His eyes flicked over Taehyung’s form, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “Taehyung.”
“It’s me,” Taehyung said.
Yoongi chuckled, curling his hands around Taehyung’s hips and urging him to lift. Taehyung sighed, but acquiesced, sliding carefully off the desk and using its surface to stop his knees from buckling. Yoongi shot him a grin and Taehyung shrugged a shoulder, unbothered. He nodded at Yoongi’s shirt.
“Got cum on your shirt.”
“Should make you lick it off,” Yoongi said, hopping off the desk too and casting it a wary glance. “This thing is sturdier than it looks.”
“So are you,” Taehyung teased, not bothering to hop away when Yoongi smacked his ass. “Better. Actually felt that one.”
“C’mere,” Yoongi said, drawing Taehyung close and kissing him firmly the moment he was close enough. When he pulled back, Yoongi’s expression was milder, but his eyes still smoldered as they looked Taehyung up and down. “Goddamn, Taehyung.”
“You’re gonna make my head swell,” Taehyung said happily, ducking to grab his boxers and jeans. He stretched out his leg, shooting Yoongi a grin when his eyes lingered on the tattoos. They were only half of what he imagined the complete look to be, but still substantial. “Cool, right?”
“You drew those too, didn’t you?”
“Most of them,” Taehyung said, pulling his boxers on. He snorted when he saw Yoongi toss the condom on the desk, hopping into his jeans. “That’s bold of you.”
“I’m gonna wipe the whole thing down in a second,” Yoongi said, flicking Taehyung’s nose as he walked by. “And you don’t talk to me about bold. Stay here.”
Yoongi ducked out of the room, and Taehyung shifted the desk back into place while he was gone, chuckling at the fact that it had moved an entire four feet out of place.
Yoongi came back in a couple minutes later, wearing a new shirt and holding a pack of wipes. He was quick to rub down the desk surface, gathering the used condom up in the wipe and then jerking for Taehyung to follow him out of the room.
“So,” Yoongi said, ducking into what looked like a bathroom to toss away the trash before leading Taehyung back to the closet where the instruments were stored. “I think this will die down in a couple hours. Cool to stay till then?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung said, shifting around for his bass bag. He laid his instrument in first, running a quick, inspecting hand over the headstock before dropping the plug in one of the side pockets. He waved away Yoongi’s judgmental look.
“You never know when you’ll need one,” Taehyung said, then smirked suggestively at Yoongi. “I have one for you back home I think you’d like.”
Yoongi crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. “Yeah? What makes you think I’ll wear it?”
“Because I’ll ask really nicely,” Taehyung said seriously, zipping up the bag. He stepped over to Yoongi, running a finger under his chin. “And I’ll reward you really nicely, too.”
“Tae,” Yoongi murmured, pulling Taehyung down to kiss him again. Taehyung smiled into his mouth, crowding him against the doorframe and kissing him quick, rough, and dirty. Yoongi chuckled into it, opening his mouth easily as he ran his fingers back through Taehyung’s bright, red hair.
“I like you,” Taehyung said, unabashed, pressing their foreheads together. “I was too shy to say it before.”
“Not now,” Yoongi said.
“No,” Taehyung agreed, kissing Yoongi again. “Not now. I like you. Let’s go out.”
Yoongi snorted, brow furrowing up at Taehyung. “I know you wanted to take me on a date but.” His lips pursed. “I don’t really date.”
“But it’s me,” Taehyung said with a grin, voice needling. “It’s me, Yoongi. You won’t date me?”
“Oh my god,” Yoongi muttered, but Taehyung could feel the way his hands tightened around Taehyung’s waist, noticed the way he licked his lips, as he tended to do when he was considering something.
Taehyung smiled, running his fingers, slower, more solidly, under Yoongi’s chin. He held them there, angling Yoongi’s face up to keep eye contact. “Just a few dates.”
Yoongi laughed, wide and gummy, the way he did when he wasn’t holding anything back. Taehyung grinned hugely right back at him, catching his piercing briefly between his teeth before releasing just so he could kiss that smile. Yoongi’s smile. Pretty as shit.
“All right,” Yoongi said, knocking his knuckles lightly under Taehyung’s chin before he stepped out from under the cage of his arms. “A few dates.”
“Spaced out at my discretion,” Taehyung said, catching Yoongi around the waist and squeezing.
“You little shit,” Yoongi said, without malice.
“What are you gonna do?” Taehyung whispered darkly, nipping at his earlobe. “Spank me?”
Taehyung could feel Yoongi’s laugh rumble in his chest. “If you’re lucky.”
Taehyung relished in the jolt that went through Yoongi’s body after Taehyung landed his palm solidly against the teeny curve of his ass, smiling darkly at Yoongi when he cast Taehyung a warning look over his shoulder.
“All right,” Yoongi said, stopping at the head of the stairs so he could turn. He reached out to rub his thumb over Taehyung’s lip, taking care to drag hard over the piercing. Taehyung shuddered at the ache, leaning further into Yoongi’s touch. “You wanna play like that, Tae?”
Taehyung eyes shone. “I’ll play whatever you want, Yoongi.”
“So tell me,” Ailee said. The rumblings of the crowd on the other side of the stage were low, but clear, and Jiwoo was standing by the edge of the wings, bouncing on the balls of her feet, drummer sticks twirling in hand as she waited for her cue to walk out. “What’s the deal with you and Yoongi?”
Taehyung looked up from his bass, smiling a little. “The deal?”
Ailee shot Taehyung a deadpan look. “Don’t give me that. It’s been like, six months since he introduced you, and he literally flew across the country to see you do this show with us.”
“It’s one of the only shows Sunmi couldn’t do,” Taehyung whined. “And he was coming here anyway for work.”
“Uh huh,” Ailee said, completely unconvinced. She turned, raising an eyebrow. “Speak of the devil. Yoongi, good of you to come, you little asshole.”
Yoongi thrust a guitar past Ailee, into Chanyeol's waiting hands. “You’re welcome for fixing your guitarist’s shit. Clean your strings you moron.”
“Hey,” Taehyung said, tugging Yoongi away from Chanyeol's sheepish apology and kissing him boldly, right on the mouth. Yoongi’s eyes were narrowed when Taehyung pulled back, but Taehyung just smiled, noting the light flush in his cheeks.
“Hey,” Ailee said, raising her eyebrows at Taehyung, who just grinned at her and tugged Yoongi closer, not minding the bass guitar hanging in front of him. “You two got—” she glanced behind her at one of the stage managers “—two minutes.” She looked pointedly from Taehyung to Yoongi and back again before dragging Chanyeol over to stand closer to Jiwoo.
Yoongi looked up at Taehyung, lightly flicking the silver loop in his lip. “You look good.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung said, grinning even as he tried to nip at Yoongi’s finger. His hair was kind of a wreck, faded blonde that needed toning, roots a few inches grown in. He was planning on going back to black soon, just hadn’t gotten around to it with everything that was going on.
After that party where he’d first played with Ailee’s band, things had started to change—all for the better, in Taehyung’s opinion, which, he supposed, was the only one that mattered.
Ailee, for starters, had texted him a few days after that night at the party, asking if he would join them for the first leg of their tour, or at least until Sunmi could join back up. He’d gotten a couple calls from other people too, folks who worked at record labels and had seen him play. He was called into different studios to play bass for different bands, different artists, and after a while, it happened regularly enough to prompt him to take less hours at the bar and, after he finished his current semester at university—not return for the subsequent ones.
He’d pick it back up eventually. Or not. Taehyung wasn’t too worried about it. He was happy like this, happy to not be killing himself over auditions to get into a band he didn’t know, or studying a subject he just didn’t give a shit about right now.
He liked the fluidity, liked the opportunity to play with different sounds and different people for different crowds. After that first leg with Ailee, there had been only a brief dry spell, but then Yoongi connected him with another band from his label that was in dire need for a few shows, and everything else just seemed to fall into place.
He and Yoongi were doing good. They saw each other as often as they could, and didn’t worry too much about the times in between when they couldn’t. It was casual, no pressure, just the way they both liked it. Yoongi, in a twist of events, liked to remind Taehyung that Taehyung still owed him a final date (he’d spaced them out quite generously), to which Taehyung teased I’ll get there.
Now, Taehyung looked down at the face he’d fallen for all those years ago, different, in some ways, the same in others. Taehyung supposed the same could be said about him. He brushed Yoongi’s bangs back from his forehead, thumbing the skin under his eye. His other hand slid down Yoongi’s hip, settling across his butt.
“How’s it feel?” Taehyung purred.
Yoongi’s smile was crooked. “How do you know I’m wearing it?”
Taehyung briefly took his hand away from Yoongi to press down on the remote pushed deep in his pocket, one that turned the vibration for the plug inside Yoongi on. He raised his eyebrow at the small gasp Yoongi swallowed.
“Mm. That’s how.” Taehyung clicked it off and leaned down, smiling when Yoongi shifted his bass carefully out of the way. “You gonna be good and watch me while you wait here?”
“Hmm,” Yoongi said, ghosting his fingers over the bass’ strings. “Guess so. Only ‘cause I know you’ll make it worth my while.”
Taehyung slapped his hand lightly against Yoongi’s cheek, his grin wicked. “Glad you know, babe. Watch closely. All the songs are for you.”
“You’re full of it,” Yoongi said darkly.
“No,” Taehyung said with a laugh, patting right over the plug in Yoongi’s ass. “You are.”