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“You hate it, don’t you?”

Namjoon, who has yet to pick his jaw off the floor, immediately makes a noise of denial.

“No! No!” he shouts, cheeks warm. “I - I do like it, Tae.” 

He turns back to the object that left him gaping like a dead fish, and it’s such a challenge to resist the dumbfounded drop of his jaw again as he stares .

Namjoon doesn’t hate Taehyung’s painting at all. Namjoon doesn’t hate any of Taehyung’s paintings or think his skills as an artist are anything to scoff at. He supports Taehyung’s artistic endeavors one-hundred percent. That is the important thing to remember here.

“Just,” Namjoon starts, carefully, “’s a little bit...erotic, don’t you think?”

Taehyung moves to Namjoon’s side, crossing his arms over his chest as he inspects the painting himself. There’s some paint on his forearms, the tips of his fingers a mess of reds and blues. When Taehyung reaches a hand up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face, Namjoon stops him, and gently pushes the hair out of the way for him.

“I mean, that’s the point, hyung. It’s supposed to be sensual,” Taehyung says, pout on his lips. 

“Right, right,’s really erotic.”

“Hyung, it’s you .”

Namjoon’s cheeks flourish an even hotter red. “I-I know that,” he stammers, but he resumes his staring of the painting, still not quite believing it even when it is literally two feet in front of him.

It’s not like Taehyung hasn’t ever asked him to pose once or twice for a painting or a sketch. As said before, Namjoon supports Taehyung in all his artistic endeavors one-hundred percent, and it’s been a while since Namjoon’s even seen Taehyung produce art at all. Taehyung’s been in and out of a slump recently. This one in particular left him without drawing anything other than a few napkin doodles for a couple of weeks. 

He was frustrated with himself, huffing and sulking with each disappointing sketch he made, even though Namjoon kept trying to encourage him the best that he can. If that meant he would lie down on the couch in his sweats --  still sweaty after one of Hoseok’s surprise pilates classes -- and let Taehyung draw him however he pleased, then that was just what Namjoon had to do.

Never in Namjoon’s life did he think that something like this would come out of one of their little impromptu sessions.

The art depicts Namjoon -- or at least in plausible deniability, a man with Namjoon’s likeliness and proportions -- splayed out on a loveseat. The loveseat Taehyung painted is far more glamorous than the cheap one they found at IKEA that has since gained a dubious stain on the arm. Painting Namjoon is wearing a frumpled suit jacket open with his shirt undone and tie loose around his throat instead of ratty sweats, his head tilted up with a flush of red on his face.

That’s not the kicker though.

The kicker, the focal point, is right smack dab in the middle of the painting. Painting Namjoon, sprawled out on this lavous loveseat looking utterly debauched, has his cock out. 

It’s huge and hard and, fuck, it’s even leaking against abs Namjoon is sixty-two percent sure he doesn’t even own. His balls look big and heavy and his thighs are strong and sturdy looking, the calves adorned with sock garters and his toes clad in dark argyle socks.

Taehyung called this piece ‘After Hours’. Namjoon had no words for it; he just gaped.

“I...It’s just super erotic,” Namjoon repeats, because he doesn’t think he’s even capable of saying anything else about it, and being a broken record is better than being an asshole. Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it, hyung.”

“N-No, I do like it. I swear I do, I just…” Namjoon huffs. He thinks he needs to sit down, so he does, right on the old blanket Taehyung usually puts out over their living room floor to keep any stray paint splatters from getting on the wood. 

Taehyung squats down beside him, waiting for Namjoon to formulate a sentence that doesn’t use the word ‘erotic’. Eventually, Namjoon comes up with, “I’ve never even thought I could look like that.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung asks, head cocked to the side. 

“Like...I don’t know.” Namjoon gestures to his person now: old sweatpants, baggy t-shirt, coke-bottle glasses and brown hair covered up with a beanie even though they’ve been home for hours. It’s his comfort beanie, like Taehyung has his comfort spa headband. Nice to wear, but absolutely fucking ugly.

“Are you trying to say you’re not sexy, hyung?” Taehyung asks. He sounds more offended than Namjoon is.

“I’m not that sexy,” Namjoon responds with an accusing finger pointed at the painting. “Like, that’s...that’s sexy.”

“Yeah, it is.” Taehyung leans in. “You’re sexy, hyung.”

“But there’s sexy and then there’s sexy.” 

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Tell me the difference then?”

Namjoon blows a raspberry. “Well...there’s sexy, you know.”

Taehyung nods. His hand has snuck its way onto Namjoon’s thigh, paint staining the grey material of Namjoon’s sweatpants. Namjoon pays it no mind.

“And then there’s sexy,” Namjoon continues, “’re sexy and...and this painting is sexy.”

“Mmm.” Taehyung smiles a dumb, box shaped grin. “So, what you’re saying is, you’re getting horny?”

Namjoon opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again, then shuts it again. Taehyung waits patiently for an answer, rubbing his hand up and down Namjoon’s thigh and getting paint all over it, marking it.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the answer soon. The sound of Taehyung’s cell phone cuts through the sexual tension like a knife, and Taehyung sighs, getting to his feet to go and grab it. Which leaves Namjoon on the floor trying to still remember how to function. 

He looks at the painting, eyes honing in on Painting Namjoon’s endowment. Fuck, he’s not that big, is he? It’ just looks so thick and scary and...and kind of hot.

Oh god, is Namjoon getting a boner over himself?

“Hyung,” Taehyung calls out, shaking Namjoon from his brief sexual crisis. “Hyung, do you want to go out with Jiminie and Hoseokie-hyung? They said bowling.”



Namjoon nods his head ‘yes’, stumbling to his feet the way a drunk baby lamb would.

Taehyung turns his mouth back towards his phone, his paint covered hand holding the phone with a paper towel. “Okay, we’ll be there in a couple minutes. Just need to shower off,” he says. Then, his smile gets sly, a little mischievous. “Aish, hyung’s a gentleman. He wouldn’t think of something so naughty.”

Namjoon surprised himself. He didn’t think his face could feel any hotter, but now he feels like he can literally combust into flames at any second.

Taehyung murmurs his goodbyes and hangs up the phone, discarding the dirty paper towel into the trash before he saunters back over to Namjoon. “So, shower?” he offers.

“Shower.” They both smell like paint, and they probably will still smell like paint afterwards. Taehyung paints so much that the smell of art supplies just feels ingrained into his natural scent. It’s either pastels and lemonade or charcoal sticks and cedarwood. Namjoon absolutely loves it.

Taehyung steps closer. “Hyung,” he says, and he lets his hands tangle into the bottom of Namjoon’s shirt. Good thing it was old. “Hyung, you can tell me if you don’t like it, okay?” Taehyung says, serious. “Like, I can take the criticism, and I don’t want you feeling awkward about it.”

“No,” Namjoon denies. “No, I like it. I love it.” He lets Taehyung rock them both from side to side.

“You’re not saying that just to make me feel better, right?” Taehyung furrows his eyebrows at Namjoon, and Namjoon feels so weak . “You know I hate it when you do that, right?”

“I know,” Namjoon says. He does. Taehyung said he’ll punch Namjoon if he ever puts Taehyung’s feelings over his own. He by all means ‘gets it’. 

But Namjoon likes Taehyung and likes Taehyung being happy, and sometimes, Namjoon just lets his feelings slip by, because Taehyung being happy is better than Namjoon being shitty, and Namjoon really doesn’t want to be shitty.

Taehyung braces his chin against Namjoon’s collarbone. He does this, makes himself smaller so he can blink those puppy eyes at him, pout his lips at him. Namjoon kisses Taehyung's lips. “I like it,” he says, strong.

The pout doesn’t leave the first time, so Namjoon kisses it again, and then once more for good measure. He feels Taehyung smile when he kisses back, and Namjoon feels warm for an entirely different reason. A good one.



They don’t talk about it for two weeks, but Namjoon still has to deal with looking at how fat Taehyung made his dick as he eats his morning cereal and evening dinner. Even when Taehyung stops him for a morning kiss before he’s off to his studio, Namjoon sees it out of the corner of his eye. Him, his body, forever immortalized in watercolors and horny bliss. 

But it’s fine. Namjoon is fine. Namjoon is completely fine. He gets turned on by Taehyung’s drawings of him. That’s...normal.

He tells himself it’s normal, but it’s not like he has anything to validate it. Is it a kink? Some fetish? Is he just unlocking a new realm of his own horniness that even he has yet to fully understand? Maybe that.

But! It’s not important to think about. Namjoon has way more important things to be worried about. He has papers to grade and dissertations to plan and meetings with professors to go to. 

He also has cacti he needs to tend on. Philomena is not going to grow into the beautiful Queen of the Night that Namjoon knows she can be if he’s too busy thinking about how big his dick is in Taehyung’s art, or the fear that someone outside of the two of them will see it and instantly recognize it’s Namjoon. Nope! No! Not going to think about that, Kim Namjoon!!

That is very much the plan Namjoon had going forward.

Then, he comes home one day to find Taehyung, Jimin and Yoongi appraising ‘After Hours’.

He screams like he was caught with his pants down. Which, he kind of is.

Jimin and Yoongi jump from the yell, and respond with shocked yells of their own. Taehyung flinches from the noise, but he doesn’t scream. With a hand to his chest, he looks at Namjoon standing in their doorway. 

Hyung! ” he scolds, “what do you think you’re doing?!”

Namjoon came home from picking up some hot cocoa mix and strawberries from the market at Taehyung’s request, but he haphazardly drops the plastic bag of groceries on the floor, slams the door shut behind him and rushes over to force himself in between the trio and ‘After Hours’. 

“W-What’s going on?” he stammers, not sure if that was an attempt to suddenly act casual. He smiles like nothing’s wrong, but Jimin and Yoongi are already too weirded out to fix the damage.

Geez .” Yoongi wrinkles his nose at Namjoon. “I’d ask the same about you.”

“A-Ahhh, nothing much, hyung.” Namjoon stretches his arms so his wingspan would be a bigger shield of Painting Namjoon’s indecency. Yoongi raises an eyebrow at him, and Jimin glances at Taehyung, almost like he’s expecting some sort of explanation out of him for Namjoon’s behavior.

“Baby,” Taehyung starts, smiling kindly, “Hyung and Jiminie were about to tell me what they thought about ‘After Hours’.”

“O-Oh?” Namjoon smiles a lopsided smile. “Ahhh, I really like the - the lighting of the painting, you know?” Namjoon says. For some reason, he’s talking very loud considering Yoongi and Jimin are literally right in front of him. “And - and the detail. The attention to detail is really nice too.”

“Really? I like the fat dick,” Jimin blurts with a grin, and Namjoon thinks he feels his soul leave his body.

“Aish, don’t say it like that,” Taehyung says with a pout. “There’s more to the painting than just the dick.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, giving a sage nod. “Like, there’s a whole commentary on repressed sexuality here.”


That certainly is not what Namjoon expected to hear.

“‘Repressed’ sexuality? How is any of this repressed?” Jimin questions. He gestures towards the painting, but Namjoon is still standing in front of the painting, so it looks like Jimin is gesturing towards him. Namjoon feels his head beginning to hurt from how hot he’s burning. 

He takes a quiet step to the side, twiddling his hands behind his back. Taehyung wraps his arms around Namjoon’s bicep, and rests his cheek on his arm while Jimin continues to explain. 

“Like, okay. A majority of people jerk off. How do we not know this isn’t a part of his like, daily routine? Like, if he’s going to jack it in a Hugo Boss suit, it’s obvious that he’s not holding anything back when it comes to sexuality,” Jimin says, looking intensely at the painting. “Like, this guy just radiates ‘Big Dick Energy’. This is ‘I would hold you beneath my desk and make you suck me off while I’m on a conference call’ energy.”

Namjoon has to pull away from Taehyung momentarily just so he can sit the fuck down and process just what is going on.

“Yeah, but there’s also a forbidden kind of feeling to it,” Yoongi counteracts. “Like we’re seeing something that we shouldn’t be seeing, a side of this guy that he would normally hide behind the suits and corporate attitude. A side that he is active in holding back until he feels he can be alone and be himself, you know?”

“Well of course he’s going to be alone. Not like he’s just gonna whip his dick out right then and there during a shareholder meeting or something,” Jimin chides.

“Not saying he is going to whip his dick out. He’s still horny, but he’s trying to hide the horny. That’s the point I’m making.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Namjoon asks, face in his hands to hide how red he is. “ Please .”

Taehyung smiles at Yoongi and Jimin, before he goes to take the painting off of the easel. “Let me put this away so we can do movie night. Joonie? Can you help me with the easel?” 

A little desperate to get away, Namjoon complies and grabs the easel into his arms before quickly rushing off after Taehyung to the room they fashioned into Taehyung’s home studio. He never really uses it for painting; Taehyung likes to be out in the living room with Namjoon as Namjoon grades papers and goes over student emails, and Namjoon just likes it when Taehyung is near him, finding it relaxing. 

The studio is now more like an extra storage room. Taehyung has all of his old paintings from previous exhibitions carefully stored here, as well as extra sketchpads and art materials bought in bulk. 

Namjoon carefully sets the easel down by the window covered with a dusty curtain. When he turns, Taehyung has already set down ‘After Hours’ and is standing right in front of him.

Taehyung claps his hands on both sides of Namjoon’s face, squishing his cheeks. “I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be one-hundred percent honest with me, okay?”

Namjoon, not having much of a choice, complies with a nod of his head.

“Are you embarrassed by the painting?” Taehyung asks, and there must have been a telling flicker in Namjoon’s eye that whatever he was going to say next was going to be a lie, since Taehyung squeezes his face more. “The truth . Nothing but the honest truth .”

Namjoon averts his gaze, cheeks warm in Taehyung’s hands. “...It’s a little bit embarrassing, yes.”

Taehyung sighs. “Baby,” he drawls, “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t like it when you’re uncomfortable--”

“But I can tell you put so much work into it and you’ve been in an art rut lately and, I don’t know--” Namjoon sighs, pulling his face out of Taehyung’s hands-- “I’m overreacting. I mean, Jimin and Yoongi didn’t even seem to notice that the guy was me .”

Taehyung pouts at Namjoon. “Okay. Then I won’t bring it out anymore.”


“Hyung, it’s alright.” Taehyung goes to carefully pick up ‘After Hours’ and lays it on its back on the work table, carefully covering it with a large white tarp. “You’re more important than this. I can always make a new painting.”

Namjoon feels bad, the kind of bad that makes it feel like he kicked himself right between his eyes. Taehyung looks at him and he wraps his arms around Namjoon in a firm hug. “Baby,” he coos, “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Just don’t want to stifle your creativity,” Namjoon tries to say.

“You won’t, baby.” Taehyung smooths his hands down and holds Namjoon by his hips, thumbs rubbing little circles at the crest of his hip bones. “I promise you, I can still get very creative.”

Namjoon blinks, not certain he’s reading the room right. “Oh?”

Taehyung smiles, and he leans in to give a playful lick against the bottom of Namjoon’s lip. “We’re gonna watch a movie with Jiminie and Yoongi-hyung, and then when they leave --” Taehyung kisses the corner of Namjoon’s mouth, down along his jawline and then he gives two wet kisses to the side of his throat, “I can show you how creative I can get, yeah?”

“O- Oh .”

Taehyung smiles and chuckles warmly into Namjoon’s neck. “Come on. I’ll pop the popcorn and you pick out the movie, okay?”

He slips his hand down to take Namjoon’s hand, and he gives it a tiny squeeze. With a gentle tug, Taehyung leads Namjoon out of the storage room and closes the door shut behind them. For the rest of the night, the painting isn’t even a thought in Namjoon’s head.



A week afterwards, Taehyung gets around to creating new artwork again. He’s also been going to the art supplies store to grab more sketchbooks to fill, and spends time at the dinner table sketching while Namjoon attempts to cook. Sometimes, Taehyung doodles while he has his head rested on Namjoon’s lap while Namjoon catches up on his late night reading. Namjoon thinks he enjoys those quiet moments the most.

None of them are nudes of Namjoon, or very detailed dicks. At least, none of the drawings that Namjoon manages to catch a quick glimpse at just before they both turn in for bed or when he leaves in the morning and Taehyung is finishing up some last minute touches. And though Taehyung doesn’t bring up the idea of Namjoon modeling for him again, Namjoon does catch Taehyung glancing at him over the top of his sketchpad, curling in towards himself as he draws, kind of like he’s hiding away.

Namjoon hasn’t thought about ‘After Hours’ since Taehyung stowed it away, but it starts crossing his mind here and there whenever he catches Taehyung drawing and Taehyung quickly turns the page to a blank one before Namjoon can get a good look. He’s not always like this, so Namjoon picks up that something is wrong quite quickly. It’s just a matter of putting it out in the open that turns out to be difficult.

He likes the painting. He knows Taehyung put every little bit of him into making that painting.'s hot. It's - it's really hot. Sometimes, when Namjoon passes Taehyung's studio, he just lingers at the door and looks in. There's always a smell of acrylic and charcoal in the air, and Namjoon thinks about Taehyung sitting in there letting that smell saturate his clothes as he draws a picture of Namjoon looking absolutely wrecked. And then, Namjoon thinks about himself and Taehyung in the studio, paint stained bodies and heat on their mouths, and then his mind runs wild after that.

Sunday night, they’re both sitting on the couch. Namjoon is half paying attention to the variety show he has on the television while Taehyung is on the other side of the couch, curled up in a little ball and drawing quietly. Namjoon’s eyes flicker over to him every so often, and sometimes he catches Taehyung looking at him, while other times Taehyung’s eyes are focused on whatever it is he’s sketching.

“...Hey, baby,” Namjoon says, not his usual name for Taehyung, so it instantly draws Taehyung’s attention. “What’re you drawing?”

Taehyung unsubtly turns the page to a clean one. “Nothing,” he says, simply.

“You’ve been drawing a lot lately,” Namjoon points out, attempting a smile. “Inspiration hit you?”

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek. “‘M stressed.”

That gets Namjoon’s attention. He sits upright, alarmed. “Stressed about what?”

“Nothing about you,” Taehyung first says, and it seems he draws more of his body into himself. “Just...there’s an art exhibit that I’m thinking about entering and...well, it deals with sexuality and stuff and…” he trails off, but Namjoon is starting to get the gist of it. 

“...What are you thinking of submitting?”

Taehyung sighs. “That’s the thing. I don’t know.” He pouts, hugging his knees against his chest. “Every time I try to plan a concept out or an idea, I just start drawing it and get so wrapped up in it that when I get a third of the way done, I find out too late that I can’t use it and just end up scrapping it.”

“What’s wrong with the drawings?”

Taehyung blows a raspberry. “...I don’t wanna say.”



“Baby, come on. Maybe I can help.”

Taehyung’s cheeks are tinting red, the color starting to spread down his neck. He’s embarrassed. It’s rare to see Taehyung get shy about his art. Namjoon swallows the adored coo that wants to sing out of his throat.

“It’s...I keep drawing you.”


Taehyung slumps down more in his seat. “I keep drawing you. Everytime I picture a concept that’s about sexiness and desire and wanting something, I end up drawing you. Like, your torso or your eyes or your hands holding your thighs open and your asshole on display.”

Namjoon may have swallowed the adored coo, but the shocked squeaky noise cannot be silenced. He coughs, breaking eye contact with Taehyung momentarily to look at the television screen and collect his thoughts. The contestants are all playing a game, and the colors of the set are obnoxiously bright. Which, paired with the fact that Taehyung is drawing horny pictures of him, makes Namjoon’s head feel very muddled.

“And like, I know you don’t feel comfortable about those things,” Taehyung continues while Namjoon still is in shock, maybe because the silence between them was too uncomfortable to let sit for long. “Which is why I try to change it. Like, I even have been looking up other models to draw inspiration from, but I just end up making them look like you and it’s all just--” Taehyung huffs and blows a raspberry. Namjoon huffs as well, feeling the same sentiment.

“You...I - I don’t mind it if you draw me like that. I just...well, I just don’t see the connection between ‘me’ and ‘sexy’.”

Taehyung frowns. “I told you, you’re sexy.”

“You’re my boyfriend. I think it’s a given you’ll think I’m sexy.”

“Jiminie and Yoongi-hyung aren’t your boyfriends but they still think you’re plenty sexy.”

“They didn’t even know that was me in the painting!”

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek. “Well, they knew that it wasn’t meant to be you in the painting, but they knew that you were the inspiration for it,” he clarifies. Namjoon blinks.


“Yeah. I mean, hyung. Come on. ‘After Hours’ looks too much like you to be a coincidence and they still found it sexy regardless.” Taehyung stretches one leg out, his toes gently pressing up against the side of Namjoon’s thigh. “Jiminie is thinking about commissioning me to do a painting of him. But he wants his dick to be bigger than yours and have five men crawling around at his feet.”

“I sincerely wish I never knew that.”

Taehyung smiles a box-shaped grin and laughs. He sets his sketchbook aside and crawls closer, swinging a leg over Namjoon’s lap to situate himself there as Namjoon takes hold of his hips. 

“I don’t think you’re sexy cause you’re my boyfriend. I think you’re sexy cause your body really inspires me and I like to draw it.” Taehyung takes a hold of Namjoon’s left wrist, bringing Namjoon’s hand up to his mouth. “Like, I like how rough your hands feel when you hold me. How your fingers feel against my skin.”

He brings Namjoon’s hand to his mouth and kisses the tips of Namjoon’s middle and index finger. Namjoon reflexively taps at Taehyung’s soft bottom lip, and when Taehyung parts them, Namjoon’s fingers slip inside the wet warmth. Taehyung sighs around them, like it’s the best thing he’s had grace his tongue all evening. The sound stirs something low in Namjoon’s stomach, and his cock gives a shameless twitch in his sweats.

Taehyung takes the fingers out, drags them down his chin and his neck to the collar of his shirt. Namjoon hooks his finger around the collar and tugs on it as Taehyung pulls at his wrist. Taehyung smirks, then lets Namjoon’s wrist go so he can pull his shirt off and toss it to the side. 

He then takes hold of Namjoon’s hand again, this time all of Namjoon’s palm touching Taehyung as he moves his hand over his chest. With his other hand, Taehyung rubs at Namjoon’s chest, still covered by his old t-shirt. 

“I like it when I touch your chest and I feel your heartbeat, and you always feel so warm,” Taehyung murmurs. He squeezes Namjoon’s left pec, and maybe because he’s feeling a little mean and teasing, he pulls at Namjoon’s already hard nipple. 

Namjoon squirms and chokes out a gasp. Taehyung giggles, but the sound is cut off when Namjoon retaliates with a nipple pull of his own, and he moans. 

Taehyung’s always been more sensitive in the chest area, and he has a moment of respite as Namjoon flicks his thumbs over Taehyung’s nipples and rubs at them, mouth hungry and wanting to get his tongue around one of them. Taehyung starts rocking his hips on Namjoon’s lap, and Namjoon feels Taehyung getting hard, rubbing against him in a slow and gentle drag.

“Lie down, baby.” Namjoon murmurs, lying Taehyung down himself. He pulls his shirt off, crawls over Taehyung to brush their noses against each other, then leans down to kiss Taehyung properly. He tastes like the fruit punch he was drinking earlier, all sugary sweet as Namjoon sucks on Taehyung’s tongue and moans into his mouth. 

When he pulls back, Taehyung blinks at him in a daze. He smiles at Namjoon. “Like it when you kiss me like that,” he murmurs in a rasp, licking at the bottom of Namjoon’s lip. “So sexy.”

A twitch comes over Namjoon’s body upon hearing that. It didn’t affect him before but...having Taehyung lying underneath him, looking up at him with hooded eyes and a cat-like smirk as he says hits differently. 

Namjoon kisses Taehyung the same way again, and Taehyung makes these noises that sound so hot and heavy that it makes Namjoon’s cock chub up faster than he’d like it to. 

He likes it when they have sex that is slow and sensual. Taehyung likes exploring Namjoon’s body and Namjoon likes taking his time pulling Taehyung apart. The dizziness is still making Namjoon’s head spin, but Taehyung murmuring ‘so sexy,’ and ‘sexy hyung’ against Namjoon’s hot open mouth is really beginning to fuck with him.

Taehyung brushes his thigh in between Namjoon’s legs, and Namjoon moans. He moans again when Taehyung keeps shifting his thigh up so Namjoon’s cock rubs against it, and again when Taehyung begins to play with Namjoon’s chest, taking a dark nipple into his mouth to tease with his tongue.

“Baby,” Namjoon gasps, one hand slipping to brace himself against the couch by its arm, while the other tangles in Taehyung’s curly hair. 

“Wanna fuck my thighs, hyung?” Taehyung asks, pulling off Namjoon’s nipple to blink up at him too innocently. “Wanna watch you use me to get off.”

“I--” Namjoon bites back his tongue, holds the moan as one of Taehyung’s hands snakes down to rub at Namjoon’s crotch. Through the fabric, Namjoon knows he’s hard and throbbing, and when Taehyung wraps his hand around him through the cotton of his pants and underwear, Namjoon feels like he’s ascending to another astral plane of existence.

“Take your pants off, baby,” Taehyung whines, tugging at the brim of Namjoon’s sweats, but not pulling them off. Namjoon is too horny to get them off himself, his hips messily gyrating up and down, just to keep Taehyung’s hands on him where he’s throbbing hot between his trembling thighs. 

But, Taehyung’s fingers find their place, hooking around the brim and he tugs. Namjoon’s underwear gets trapped around his thighs, but his cock is free and the cool air of the living room stings for only a second. Taehyung smiles against Namjoon’s adam’s apple and wraps his hand around Namjoon where he’s weeping. 

The pad of Taehyung’s thumb is rough, and he rubs at the wet slit until Namjoon is choking noises in Taehyung’s curly hair. He pulls back, slots his lips to kiss Taehyung, renewing the taste of him in his mouth. With his free hand, Taehyung helps himself out of his jeans, underwear sliding down with it, hanging off his left ankle.

“Need the lube,” Namjoon says against Taehyung’s mouth, and it would be nice of him to get up so either of them could grab it from the bathroom. But, Namjoon lets his weight sit on Taehyung for just a few seconds longer, lets their cocks accidentally bump against each other before at last, Taehyung pushes at Namjoon’s shoulder with a breathy laugh.

He slides off the couch and kicks off his underwear, walking to the bathroom with an extra sway in his hips cause he knows Namjoon is watching. Namjoon pulls his shirt off, then adjusts himself on the couch as he waits for Taehyung to come back.

Taehyung strolls into the living room with the bottle of lube dangling from his hand. He still keeps his shirt on, the one that has some paint stains on the bottom hem and right sleeve, and for some reason Namjoon just feels so endeared. 

He scoots over, and Taehyung takes his spot on the couch. He lies back and spreads his legs, his cock resting against his stomach. “Let me get you nice and wet, okay?” Namjoon murmurs, taking the bottle to squirt a ridiculous amount into his palm. 

He gets his dick wet first, and Taehyung licks his lips watching Namjoon’s fist slide up and down his length. Then, Namjoon rubs some lube on the inner parts of Taehyung’s thighs, gently moving his fingertips over where he feels lean muscle trembling beneath his touch. 

“It’s wet enough,” Taehyung urges, pout on his lips. “Come on, fuck my thighs already.”

“No. Let me touch you more.”


Namjoon gives Taehyung a swat on his ass, but abides and tosses the bottle aside so he can grab Taehyung by the back of his knees. He scoots forward, getting his cock nice and settled between Taehyung’s thighs. Taehyung hooks his ankles over Namjoon’s shoulders, face already looking so flushed and wrecked before Namjoon can even move.

Namjoon gives a test thrust, just to check the slide is wet enough and oh . It feels good. It’s been a while since he’s had Taehyung like this, and the flexing of Taehyung’s thighs makes Namjoon wonder why they don’t do this more often. 

Taehyung licks his lips again, wrapping a hand around his dick so he can stroke it in time to Namjoon’s thrust. His eyes are on Namjoon’s cock, dark and hungry.

“Good?” Namjoon asks, fingers dancing over Taehyung’s legs, touching every bit of heated skin he can reach. Taehyung nods, licking his lips as he touches his free hand at his hardened nipples beneath his paint-stained shirt.

“Always like to watch you,” he breathes out. “The way how your face and your chest gets all red when you’re fucking me just gets me so hot .”

Namjoon’s hips stutter, and Taehyung makes a whine at Namjoon losing his rhythm. Namjoon recovers quickly, tells Taehyung to tighten his legs as he readjusts his grip. Taehyung does, and Namjoon’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, and he brings his lips against Taehyung’s leg to kiss it. “ Fuck .”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything. He’s usually more vocal, would let a slew of curses and praise and mindless begging fall from his lips. But right now, his eyes look so blown wide with lust and want that even if he were to speak, Namjoon’s sure it’ll just be nonsense said in the heat of the moment. 

The shine of Taehyung’s red bitten lips is gorgeous. So is the sheen of sweat on his face, sparkling down his neck. He’s the real piece of art here, and when Namjoon looks down at his cock sliding in between Taehyung’s legs, the sticky mess of lube and his pre-cum smeared out over Taehyung’s skin, it makes Namjoon’s toes curl and something jump in his stomach.

Maybe it’s just the visual of it, or the sound of Taehyung’s breathing getting harder, or the thought that it’s Namjoon himself that is bring Taehyung to this point of bliss where he’s a sweaty and beautiful mess, that makes Namjoon feel like he’s closer to the edge than he realized. He tucks his chin in towards his sternum, eyes falling closed momentarily as his eyebrows pinch together. 

“C-Can I finish in your mouth?” Namjoon stammers out, the rhythm of his hips growing sloppy again, picking up in frantic speed as he draws closer and closer. Taehyung nods, letting his legs fall open so Namjoon can clumsily move over him. 

Taehyung smiles at him, wrapping his hand around Namjoon to give a few slow strokes of his wrist. “That’s the kind of face I like to see you make,” Taehyung drawls, and Namjoon braces his hands on the arm of the couch that Taehyung leans up against. 

Taehyung continues to move his hand up and down, then opens his mouth and lets Namjoon’s cock fall over the flat of his tongue. Namjoon moves his hips, and the drag of his cock over Taehyung’s tongue, the dark look of Taehyung’s eyes through the dark sweep of his eyelashes, that’s enough for Namjoon to break.

He tries to warn, but he doesn’t get his words out fast enough. Then again, Namjoon isn’t sure he could have said anything other than just the punched out ‘ ungh ’ that comes from the bottom of his stomach. White comes over Taehyung’s lips, across the sharp cut of his cheek and down the sensual curve of his jaw. Taehyung closes his eyes on reflex, but they open back up to watch Namjoon pant and moan the last few jitters of his orgasm.

Namjoon’s body feels so heavy, but his head feels light, floating in the air and looking down at the sight of Taehyung’s face half-covered in his cum. He’s beautiful. He’s always beautiful, but Namjoon’s feels so good in his bones right now that all he can do is stare at Taehyung’s face in dumb wonder.

He brings his thumb to push where his cum drips down the side of Taehyung’s cheek towards the corner of Taehyung’s mouth. Automatically, Taehyung opens his mouth and sucks Namjoon’s thumb in, not breaking eye contact. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Namjoon blurts. He just has to say it.

Taehyung smiles and laughs around Namjoon’s thumb. 

Namjoon slides off of Taehyung onto his knees, wraps a firm hand around Taehyung’s still hard cock, just the right amount of tightness that Taehyung likes. Taehyung’s mouth falls open into a perfect ‘oh’ and Namjoon leans in to kiss him again, tasting himself on Taehyung’s tongue. 

Taehyung hiccups a noise when he comes, and his hands grip tightly to Namjoon’s shoulders as his body spasms and Namjoon keeps stroking him. It dribbles over Namjoon’s fist, stickying up his palm, making a mess of the couch beneath which, ugh, this is the third time they messed up the couch like this. 

Taehyung breaks the kiss just to moan against Namjoon’s mouth, and Namjoon swallows every sound he makes. When the last of the orgasm works itself out of Taehyung’s clenched hands and curled toes, Taehyung’s body goes slack against the couch and a contented smile stretches across his face.

“So it was good for you?” Namjoon asks.

Always good.” Taehyung props himself on his elbows. “Always love the face you make when--” Taehyung stops, eyes focusing on Namjoon’s still flushed and sweaty face. “Oh my gosh,” he says, “oh my gosh that’s it.

Taehyung gets up and grabs his sketchbook, sitting cross-legged and bare assed on the floor while searching for a loose pencil. 

“Baby?” Namjoon says, taking his shirt to wipe Taehyung’s face clean at least. Taehyung lets him; he’s too entranced with what he’s scribbling down on the sketchpad to do it himself. “You want me to, uh, get you a cushion to sit on or...underwear?”

“Underwear’s fine.” Taehyung looks up at Namjoon, “and could you get me my colored pencils from my desk?”

Namjoon blinks, but then nods his head and slowly gets to his feet. He’s still feeling a little floaty in his body, all boneless and tingly. But, he’s at least able to navigate the hallway to their bedroom and to their shared dresser. He grabs a pair of boxer briefs he’s only seventy-percent sure is Taehyung’s and not just his own, and then grabs another pair of briefs just so he’s not the only one walking around with his dick out. 

He heads back to the living room after grabbing the colored pencils and tugging on the clean underwear. He’ll have to shower later. They both do. And as he looks at the stain beginning to set on the couch cushion, Namjoon knows he’ll have to devote some time into taking care of that too.

Taehyung takes the underwear and pencils with a smile and a kiss to Namjoon’s cheek. He puts the underwear on, then goes back to his drawing with a smile on his face.

Namjoon watches him for some time, a hand in his cheek and the smell of sex and sweat still lingering. When Taehyung looks up at him, his cheeks are pink. 

He just exchanges a smile with Namjoon, and Namjoon smiles back at him, something like content working its way into his spine where he’s still tingling, and decides he’ll sit here and let the good feeling stay just a while longer.



Taehyung has a new painting completed two weeks later. It’s of an extreme close up of someone’s lips stretched wide in orgasmic bliss. Namjoon thinks he can almost hear it if he stares at the painting long enough. He notices the little mole beneath the lips and starts touching at his own.

“What do you think?” Taehyung asks, hands behind his back and waiting for Namjoon’s honest response. 

Namjoon takes a second to look at the painting from all its aspects. The composition of bright colors, the brightness and intensity of the shading, the flecks of white paint splatter that gives the painting more of a messy edge, but still somehow ties everything all together. 

Taehyung says the painting is called ‘Oh’. That’s the first thought in Namjoon's mind as he traces the tips of his fingers over his bottom lip. Oh.

It takes him a moment to think about what he wants to say, but Taehyung patiently waits until Namjoon thinks he has all of his thoughts together to form a sentence.

"It's hot," Namjoon blurts.

There's a brief moment of quiet, then Taehyung bursts a snort.

"Um, okay?"

"I mean," Namjoon tries to clarify, the tips of his ears stinging red, "Okay, I know that you know that I get all awkward about you drawing me sexy and stuff. And you hate it if I tell you that I'm fine with something when I'm not, and that I'm your sexy muse and the thought of you creating these pieces of me...thinking about me like this just..." Namjoon gestures with his hand for a word to pick out of the air, but doesn't find anything better than blurting out, "It's just really hot."

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek, considering Namjoon's words.

"So, you don't...feel weird about it?"

"I mean, I know it's me making an orgasm face," Namjoon says in a murmur, and he feels all hot in the face just acknowledging that, "but it's also a beautiful painting that my boyfriend made, and I like it."

Taehyung smiles, rocking forward and back onto his heels. Namjoon pulls Taehyung in close by his hips. "Do you like the painting, baby?"

"Hmm." Taehyung takes a moment to think about it, then looks over at the painting to further judge it. "It could use some more dick," he says after a beat, and Namjoon makes a choked noise. Taehyung laughs. "Joking, hyung!" he claims, and kisses the shock off Namjoon's lips. 

Namjoon welcomes the kiss, squeezing Taehyung's hips and drawing little patterns on the crest of Taehyung's hipbone with the side of his thumb. Taehyung looks him in the eye, eyes sparkling. "You know," Taehyung starts, a lazy drawl in his voice, "I have a couple of drafts of this painting."


"You have a lot of orgasm faces, hyung," Taehyung points out. Namjoon then makes a noise of small shame, and Taehyung kisses Namjoon to shut him up. "It's sexy..." he murmurs against the seam of Namjoon's mouth. "Sometimes I like to look at them and think about how good you look just as you're about to come."

It's about ten minutes to five. Namjoon has some things he needs to grade, a PowerPoint to get through, and they still have dinner to prep. But he's so weak when Taehyung uses that voice, looks at him with Those Eyes, and, well, it's not like Namjoon isn't already a little riled up from looking at the shape of his mouth as he's orgasming forever immortalized.

"You me?" Namjoon asks in a murmur, letting the heat sit in his cheeks and his throat where it belongs.

Taehyung smiles, hooking a finger in the front of Namjoon's jeans. "Glad to."