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Grips on Your (Pastel Pink) Waist

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I guess you could say it happened to be an accident (but not really).

With his back against the kitchen cabinets and his slacks crumpled slightly against the counter Namjoon watched Seokjin wander or really roll into the common room, his long legs even longer, clad in white knee highs and roller skates (the lightest pink with cream laces and white wheels) strapped to his feet.

[Namjoon is really, really fucked. His mouth actually fucking waters.]

Kim Seokjin, inhumanely attractive Kim Seokjin, easily the most handsome man on campus (that everyone wanted to either bed or befriend) stood in the common room of his own frat house in the tiniest pair of pastel pink workout shorts Namjoon has ever seen in his life and Namjoon lives on campus so he’s seen more than his fair share of small shorts. The Kim Seokjin donned a black crop top that showcased his cute tummy and the little trail of hair that disappeared into his shorts and he’d even managed to somehow pin his hair up in tiny little space buns. A jean jacket settled nicely over his wide shoulders dipped the neckline of his shirt down to expose delicate collar bones.

Thank god Hoseok had invited Namjoon, really, god fucking bless him. Namjoon should pay his tuition.

In lieu of trying to make a vague noise of appreciation in his throat Namjoon manages to choke on his sprite and through watery eyes sees Seokjin angrily shove someone away. The words register only a second after they are yelled out over the music.

"For the LAST fucking time GET AWAY FROM ME!

This of course perks Namjoon’s interest (and that of half of the room). The guy Seokjin had shoved away was in some sort of ketchup costume (this irks Namjoon some because really how much lazier can a human being be) he was obviously beyond fucking wasted, his limbs moved lethargically and his words slurred in one continuous stream.

“Seokjindollcmon lesgo’ave somefUn.” The words were booming over the loud music and the drunk let himself fall forward, lips crashing grossly against Seokjin's cheek.

Namjoon (who’s composed himself enough to breathe finally) is getting antsy. A look around the room confirms that everyone is watching the exchange between Drunk Ketchup Bottle and Seokjin.

Now never let it be said that Seokjin isn’t imposing, he is. Even in innocent looking pink shorts and knee socks, Seokjin still stands a little over six foot with wide shoulders rolling with muscle and long, powerful limbs, just overall massive, but the drunk is even more so. Drunk Ketchup Bottle has a couple inches on Seokjin, close to fifty pounds as well and his hands wander disgustingly over Seokjin’s sides.

Namjoon’s blood boils.

Then normally pacific Seokjin does something no one in this room, Namjoon included, had ever seen before. Namjoon feels as if he’s watching everything in slow motion as Seokjin curls his hands into fists and swings with all the power stored in his shoulders.

There’s a moment devoid of sound, where the room holds its breath and the air is scrambled out of place. Then Drunk Ketchup Bottle straightens out, an intoxicated chuckle falling darkly from his mouth. He swipes a finger over his bloodied lip and mouths something Namjoon can’t make out.

It might have been the three drinks thrumming in Namjoon’s bones or his half year old crush on Seokjin, it might have been adrenaline or the look in Seokjin’s eye but for some god forsaken reason Namjoon steels himself and pushes off of the counter. He extends himself to his full height and decked out in his marine costume he does look rather authoritarian (which is really all he has going for himself because god Namjoon is more book smarts than anything else)

He crosses the room quickly, the crowds almost parting for him and when he gets close enough he spits sharply “Hey man, why don’t you go home? Seems you’ve had enough.”

The guy doesn’t even look up. He carries on as if Namjoon weren’t speaking to him. Seokjin looks up briefly, struggling away from Drunk Ketchup Bottle’s grip on his arm.

He takes the last six steps and when the drunk doesn’t back off he yanks him by the back of his collar causing him to stumble, pulling Seokjin with him.

The drunk grunts obscenities. Namjoon laughs shoving him away once he loses his grip on Seokjin, “Dude, take a fucking hint.”

Ketchup bottle is swaying on his feet, he turns his head and spits ”Mindurfuckinbusiness Shit doesn't con-concernyou. This’s tween me and Jin" and then in a rapid movement of intoxicated limbs, swings.

Knuckles meet ribs. Namjoon feels pain bloom in his chest.

The force knocks him back - Hollywood really fucked me over there, this shit hurts - but Namjoon takes the blows and straightens up in time to catch the drunk rearing his fist back again.

He’s prepared this time and deftly kicks out his feet before Ketchup Bottle even has the time to get close to him. Ketchup Bottle lands in a heap of aggravated limbs cursing at Namjoon and promising to turn him into dust. The room suddenly balloons out once the drunk who seems to lack common sense stumbles to his feet.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Seokjin scrambling for his friends, calling out, “Get Jackson and Jaebum! Hurry up! He needs help!”

Drunk Ketchup Bottle shoves Namjoon and almost sends him flying into the wall. Namjoon is beginning to rethink this idea. Because A) He’s really not that athletic B) God fucking damn do his ribs hurt and C) it’s quite possible he just might get his ass handed to him in a minute. There’s another angry obscenity thrown at him and Namjoon doesn’t think.

He just balls his fist, times his swing and when he feels like he should, he punches.

There’s a crack of bone, a shooting pain, a thump.

Body on the floor.

Namjoon’s knuckles scream.

It becomes apparent then that Namjoon and Drunk Ketchup Bottle had a bigger audience than what Namjoon originally thought because as soon as the drunk hits the ground there’s an eruption of sound. Hooting and whooping and the giddy laughs of drunk frat guys and shocked girls fill his ears (holy shit, holy shit, holy shit). Congratulatory claps land on his back as he rubs at sore knuckles.

Namjoon looks up only after a couple of guys roar in laughter, after people poke at the ketchup bottle out cold, when the music's turned up louder, only then does he look to Seokjin.

He stands off to the side shocked eyes open adorably wide. Namjoon notices one of the tiny buns atop his head is askew, little tufts of warm brown hair sticking out in different places endearingly. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck (with the hand that didn't feel like he’d just punched concrete) awkwardly, eyes still locked with Seokjin’s. The music continued on, the bass pounding away and the crowds ever louder.

"Thanks."

Namjoon gives a small boyish nod. And he thought that was it. He thought he'd saved the day so he'd reward himself with another beer, find his friends and maybe play beer pong. Maybe even share a couple glances here and there with Seokjin who still looked sinful in his costume. He thought he'd go home happy knowing at least Seokjin acknowledged him.

What Namjoon was least expecting was for Seokjin to skate himself over to him, take his non hurting hand in his, and pull him through the crowded room and out the back door. Even less so for Seokjin to lean against the wall, pull off his skates and walk across the cold green grass looking back and nodding his head for Namjoon to follow him. Which he does, because Kim Freaking Seokjin asked him to.

The party still rages in the backyard of the frat house, couples grinding and drunken girls giggling loudly among the fireflies. Seokjin walks in front of him, one of his knee highs halfway down his calf, the bottoms of said knee highs a little damp and green from the grass.

Namjoon doesn’t know what to do exactly when Seokjin stops in front of a tree, walks around it and starts climbing up some ladder that he can't see. Namjoon stands there in the darkness, the music too distant to be a problem and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"Aren't you coming up? I'm inviting you in, it's rude to not come up." Seokjin says in a soft voice.

Namjoon pulls at his collar, but mumbles, "Right, sorry."

The alcohol previously consumed worries him a little. It makes Namjoon wonder if he'll make it to wherever Seokjin is taking him without falling to his death. So he makes sure to grab onto the nailed in pieces of wood firmly, ignoring the protest of his knuckles and makes his way up.

Namjoon catches a glimpse of Seokjin's feet as he scrambles up the ledge, "This is going to be cheesy as fuck if you brought me to a tree house." He hears a laugh ring out from above.

"I'm being nice, you should appreciate it."

Namjoon smiles to himself while he climbs the last piece of wood and hauls himself over the edge. He indeed finds himself in a tree house, the deck of one anyway. Seokjin sits by the edge of the deck, leaning back on his hands and dangling his knee sock clad feet over the edge. Namjoon sits next to him, the city lays before him.

There's a moment filled with soft breaths and moonlight before Seokjin speaks up.

"Everyone knows I don’t like violence. But ... but this prick just wasn’t leaving me alone and he was gigantic compared to me which is saying something. I hate … to have gotten you involved, but thank you. For you know, I mean ... just thanks."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Still."

The air is warm with summer and cool with stars.

"You look nice.” Seokjin looks to the stars, “I like your costume, marine."

"It cost me a shitload of money so thank you." Namjoon sneaks a look at Seokjin.

A warm smile. "You’re welcome."

"Yours is nice too. Um sorry if that sounds a little uhm … weird. But it looks good on you."

Seokjin laughs something lively (and so, so stupidly annoying), "I was going to dress up as a doctor but I lost this bet. It's kind of a long story but anyways I thought well, if I'm going to have to do this might as well go all out. Right?" He smiles to himself. "It took me the longest time to find these shorts in a size that would actually fit, you wouldn't believe. And my hair it took me ages to get it like this." He pouts a little at the end, "Jerk messed it all up though.” Seokjin sighs looking slightly annoyed but then his face lights up in one of his brilliant smiles, "Looks like you didn't have any problems though, your costume fits you perfectly."

Namjoon chuckles, "Y' think I'd be a good marine?"

"Yeah, you’re a handsome marine." Heat rushes to his cheeks.

"Well I think you're a very handsome roller skater."

Seokjin snorts then, "I'm Kim Seokjin." and gives a semblance of a bow.

Namjoon wanted to say 'I know' but instead settles for, "Kim Namjoon.”

"Well,” Seokjin starts a smile tugging at his lips. “Kim Namjoon I think you’re lying. I look ridiculous." Seokjin gestures to, well everything. The shorts were crumpled and one bun was drooping endearingly, the other completely out of it’s hair tie and (not that Namjoon was particularly looking) his tummy slightly on display in the moonlight.

In a sudden burst of confidence Namjoon says the words before his brain even has time to stop them, ”You don’t though.”

A furious blush.

“I- I mean did you even hear what everyone was saying? All anyone could talk about was how good you looked in your costume. If anyone can pull it off it’s definitely you.” Namjoon looks at Seokjin then and he could have sworn he sees a pretty pink bloom across his cheeks, but maybe it was just his imagination.

"Well, Kim Namjoon, from my advanced music theory class, who stares at me sometimes but has never actually talked to me, do you honestly think I look handsome in this?"

Namjoon’s cheeks blaze but the word spills out of his mouth before he can stop it, "Absolutely."

Seokjin laughs and the sound drags Namjoon along with it. The elder leans into Namjoon’s shoulder just slightly. (Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach)

"You're a little weird."

Namjoon chuckles, "Says the guy wearing pale pink shorts of all things. But aren't we all a little weird?" Seokjin sighs his answer and scoots his way closer to Namjoon. Closer. Seokjin rests his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

"I guess we all are. Sorry again."

"You don't have to apologize Seokjin." Namjoon goes to move his hand but bumps it on the scratchy wood railing, a hiss leaving his mouth. Seokjin lifts his head, eyes big and concerned, and carefully holds Namjoon’s hand in his.

(Seokjin squints at the red skin, Namjoon wants to cry it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen.)

"Doesn't look too bad, probably just ice it later, maybe get some ointment or something. We could go down. I probably have something in the bathroom." he looks up then with these big, gorgeous brown eyes and Namjoon is fucked. He’s got the biggest crush in the world on the most attractive person in the world and his stomach is doing flips.

“Maybe you can just kiss it better."

Wait, what?! Did that honestly, truthfully just come out of Namjoon’s mouth? Are you fucking kidding me, there is no way he just said that out loud no fucking way.

Seokjin scoffs and moves to shove Namjoon’s shoulder, "You wish, Namjoon." (He does) Namjoon dodges the motion, letting himself fall back to stare at the stars. Seokjin is left with nothing to push however and he lands awkwardly halfway on top of Namjoon a millisecond later.

There were exactly 2.4 seconds of silence.

Smooth, Namjoon.”

“Me? That was all you!" Namjoon starts tickling up Seokjin’s sides taking advantage of the positioning.

Seokjin giggles manically as Namjoon continues his assault on his sides, wriggling profusely to try to get away. Jin squeaks and giggles. Namjoon’s a little breathless because the moon’s shining down on them and the stars surround them and just Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin.

Noticing his distraction the elder pins Namjoon’s arms over his head after maneuvering himself to straddle Namjoon’s thighs. Seokjin was above Namjoon, breathless, rosy cheeked and lovely. Seokjin’s shirt the small black piece of cloth that passed as a shirt was dipping, leaving collar bones and that oh so kissable neck on display. Seokjin was above Namjoon and his thighs were warm over his slacks and he was so close Namjoon could smell a hint of something warm and homey and he was just smiling down at him.

Seokjin was everywhere, he was everywhere and nowhere, because his scent was all around Namjoon, hands warm above his head and thighs a solid strong weight on his lap. He was so close ... but not quite. Namjoon's eyes were drawn to Seokjin's pretty lips, pink and lovely even in the moonlight and his gaze flickers nervously to the elder’s eyes. The playful look held in Seokjin's gaze is gone, replaced with concern. Seokjin knits his eyebrows together, "Something wrong?"

Namjoon can’t even answer him, because all his brain is able to focus on are those pink lips moving as he said the words and the pressure of Seokjin on his lap and the fact that Namjoon had fucking dreamt about this shit. He'd day dreamed about kissing Seokjin, grabbing the older man by the hips and crashing their lips together. Had day dreamed about how pliant Seokjin would become in his hands and fuck, he had his chance now but he was frozen in place.

Seokjin breathes heavily on top of him, it fans over the base of Namjoon's neck and fuck is Seokjin getting closer? Namjoon didn’t have any more time to dwell on the subject because suddenly Seokjin's lips are pressed to his. Namjoon’s hands are pinned above him a little harder and it was just a ghost of a touch. Fleeting and soft, a barely there touch of Seokjin’s plump bottom lip against Namjoon’s mouth. He didn’t even have time to kiss back when Seokjin was pulling away.

Seokjin releases Namjoon's hands and brings his fingers up to ghost over his lips, "Namjoon from advanced music theory. Namjoon that's never talked to be but somehow's managed to drive me crazy. How are you doing this Namjoon?"

Namjoon feels like someone poured ice water over him because he's finally able to breathe and his chest heaves with the words he's about to say, "Seokjin, fuck, Seokjin just fucking ki- I just."

But Seokjin hitches himself further up Namjoon's body, hips snug over the younger's and he mumbles out, "Just shut up Namjoon." Then he leans down again, so his chest is flush with Namjoon's and finally, finally presses those beautiful pink lips to the younger's, for real this time.

The younger leans into the kiss as much as he can given the position, lets Seokjin suck his plump bottom lip between both of his. All the while the elder wiggles over Namjoon's lap and fuck if he isn't getting hard.

Seokjin lets out this little laugh against the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and pulls away, taking Namjoon's lip, taut between pristine white teeth, with him. He lets it go after a second and sits up completely, pale pink shorts ridden up to expose more of his deliciously gorgeous skin. Namjoon wants to touch it, wants to run his fingers along every inch of skin and let it bloom in pretty colors, but he was nervous. His fingers only tentatively came up to Seokjin's sides, the elder whining and squeezing his thighs around him.

The positioning is a little awkward so Namjoon sits up, and Seokjin adjusts, long legs unbending and wrapping around Namjoon's waist. Within a second Seokjin is wrapping his arms around Namjoon's neck and crashing their lips together. Namjoon's hands rest comfortably on the exposed skin of Seokjin's hips, fingers rubbing soothing circles on the warm skin.

They kiss languidly, all chapped lips and tongue, wet and hot and good only pulling away to really breathe when Namjoon was sure his lungs were going to burst. When he does take a second to breathe, chest heaving, he noses at Seokjin's neck. The elder arching it gracefully to allow the younger more freedom. Seokjin would let out short bursts of giggles when the younger kissed somewhere a little too ticklish and he fucking loves it.

God I should really, really fucking thank Hoseok, Namjoon thinks. Or at least he thought the words were only said in his mind but Seokjin giggles louder than he already was and pulls Namjoon’s face from his neck.

“God bless Hoseok, right? A godsend that one.” smugness tints Seokjin’s words, devilish smirk on his face completely opposite to his words.

Namjoon nods quickly, “Yeah. The best really.”

Ten minutes later Namjoon’s in heaven but he’s also going to have a mental breakdown because beautiful, innocent, ethereal, Seokjin had started to grind in earnest. Friction tortuously hot even through four layers of clothes though Seokjin seems to fucking enjoy it because his lips turn up in a smile against Namjoon's mouth and he’s sneaking his hands over the younger's guiding them to rub down his thighs. Warm fingers dance over soft skin and Jin’s lips leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Seokjin drags his hips up once again, painfully slow. Namjoon is so, so hard and Seokjin’s cock is rubbing against the front of his uniform jacket, and if Namjoon looks down. Fuck … if Namjoon looks down he can see the tiniest wet spot forming on the front of Seokjin’s shorts, and its rubbing into Namjoon’s uniform it’s so absolutely filthy, Namjoon loves it.

His breath catches. "Fuck, Seokjin.”

The elder tuts condescendingly, "Why all the language Joon?"

Namjoon has half a mind to make a small noise of annoyance. Seokjin grins wickedly, slowing the movement of his hips but this won’t fucking do and Namjoon moves his hands over Seokjin’s hips, guiding them into the same fluid motion.

“Don’t be a tease. Why’d you stop?”

Seokjin just smiles, a smile all too innocent for the current actions going down between the two and he runs a hand through his bangs pushing them back slightly so his big eyes are on full display. “Oh babe, I’ll tease all I want. Just enjoy it Joon.”

Namjoon scoffs. “You’re weird."

Seokjin hums, "Bet you'd still suck my dick though."

"... Is that an invitation?"

"What do you think?"

"I fucking hate you."

Except Namjoon doesn’t really because Seokjin lets out this really dumb laugh and his fingers rest on the waistband of the very pink, very pastel, very short shorts. He holds Seokjin’s gaze.

“Can I?”

Seokjin’s gaze is heavy through thick lashes, he nods. Namjoon takes a deep breath, it smells of green and night and Seokjin and then he curls his fingers tentatively under the elastic, fingers ghosting over the head of Seokjin’s cock. The elder whines high and jumps a little on Namjoon's lap.

Gathering more courage Namjoon thumbs at the slit watching Seokjin scrunch up his eyes adorably and part his lips. "Joonie, oh my god!”

Namjoon feels heat bloom in his blood and rise to his cheeks at the nickname.

“Fuck, I haven’t even touched you yet Seokjin.” Namjoon pulls the pink shorts down, given a little awkwardly, to pump Seokjin freely. In the pale moonlight Namjoon decides that it’s ridiculously preposterous (or fitting??) that Seokjin’s cock is as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Flushed pink and reddened at the head, proportioned beautifully (the fuck???). The underside has a lovely vein running along it that Namjoon really wants to feel against his tongue. His cock twitched at the thought, but his cheeks flush crimson (Namjoon is going to have to say some prayers after this).

Namjoon gently pushes Jin off of his lap. Seokjin’s legs unwrapped themselves from around the younger’s waist, gracefully he places his back flush against the deck.

Spread out before him, little wisps of hair framing his face and shorts discarded somewhere, bathed in stars and galaxies, Namjoon wants to film the elder. Want to capture just how otherworldly stunning the man under him is, he wants to take a million pictures a thousand times, wishes so desperately that he'd be able to show Seokjin how utterly breathtaking he is.

His fingers run lightly over the warmth of Seokjin’s thighs, relishing the feeling of skin under his fingertips.

“Look fucking gorgeous, Seokjin. So pretty … Bet you’d look even better if ...”

“If what Namjoon?” a smirk tugs at his mouth.

Taking Seokjin in his hand Namjoon almost growls, “Always been so damn smug. Could tell that since the day you first walked into class.” The gasp he receives as a reply satisfies him.

“And what are yo- ah! Ah. What are you gonna do about it Joonie?” The words were barely a whisper, airy and filled with starlight.

Namjoon concentrates of the movement on his hands, lets his thumb catch under the head which elicits a moan from Seokjin. Namjoon’s uncomfortably sat on his knees, wood digging painfully into his joints but he shoves everything else to the side as he lowers his mouth down, just inches from where he wants it to be the most.

Seokjin grumbles. “Get on with it, Joonie. I’m not a very patient man.”

Namjoon quirks up an eyebrow, “Okay then, Seokjin-ssi.”

And then Namjoon has his mouth on Kim Seokjin’s dick. He, Kim Namjoon, certified nerd is sucking on the dick of the single most attractive man on the entire campus.

Fucking wow.

But then he hears the hiss that falls from Seokjin’s lips and Namjoon gets to work. He suckles on the head, spreading saliva and precum everywhere. Seokjin is moaning out little praises as Namjoon takes a deep breath and hollows his cheeks.

Namjoon isn't really a blowjob expert per se, his last couple boyfriends preferred to be on the giving rather than receiving end (not that Namjoon complained) so Namjoon’s never really had a chance to exercise his oral talents. But he just does what he remembers feels good and hopes for the best.

Fuck.”

Namjoon pulls up, lips stretched over Seokjin’s girth obscenely and he swipes his mouth when a sliver of saliva connects the head of Seokjin’s cock to the corner of his lips.

In a mocking repetition of Seokjin’s earlier words Namjoon smirks, “Why all the language, Seokjin?”

“Namjoon.” Seokjin warns, but Namjoon’s gotten a little greedy and he lowers his mouth down again this time taking way too much of Seokjin too quickly because he chokes and pulls up gasping for breath.

“Pace yourself, Joonie.”

Namjoon works his hand up and down Seokjin’s cock as the tears clear from his vision and his breaths come even once again. The man before him writhes and Namjoon is sure it’s painful. Not only is his cock heavy and red in his hand but he’s writhing for Namjoon on the scratchy wooden deck, and Namjoon’s concerned for half a minute but then Seokjin blindly reaches for Namjoon’s hair and he pulls him down and the thoughts get pushed to the furthest parts of his mind.

He bobs his head up and down softly, pumping what he can’t fit into his mouth with his right hand making sure to drag the fingers of his left under Seokjin’s balls and squeeze lightly. There’s a ringing in Namjoon’s ears that is only broken up by the gasps falling quickly from the elder man’s mouth.

Ha! Ahh! Joon. Oh my god, Joon. Pull up, pull up, I’m gonna come.” Seokjin tugs at Namjoon’s hair, gently. Namjoon whines his disapproval and pouts a full bottom lip out. There’s a little frown on his face and a wrinkle between his eyebrows as he concentrates on the movement of his hands.

“Okay, Jin. You gonna come? Fuck, you’re so hot. Come on, Seokjin.”

“Ngh, agh!” Seokjin’s chest is heaving up and down and Namjoon isn’t sure but he thinks he hears people inquiring up at the tree house, but Seokjin’s eyes are scrunched up in the most beautiful way. Soft brown hair falls over his eyebrows and his full pink lips stretch out into a little “o” shape and fuck Namjoon hadn’t noticed before but had Seokjin bunched the fabric of his shirt up around his armpits and was rolling one pert brown nipple between his fingers.

“Fuck, alright, shit I’m coming.”

“Go ahead, doll.”

Seokjin’s eyes immediately flutter open, and he’s circling his nipple with long fingers and holding Namjoon’s heavy gaze. Namjoon pumps his hand quicker and drags his thumb under the head while he bumps his other hand over Seokjin’s stomach and ribs to take Jin's other cute little nipple between his thumb and forefinger and that was all it took.

Namjoon leaned back on his knees as Seokjin came undone. The elder looked, gorgeous absolutely breathtaking, with strings of pearly white all over his tummy and cock, beads of sweat pooled in his collar bones and one hand covering his eyes, a sated smile on his face.

Now that Namjoon thinks about it, he does hear people throwing questions up the ladder of the tree house and all he yells back is, “Come back later we’re busy.” Which is, as expected, received with suggestive whoops and even an, “Atta boy, Joon-ah!” But Namjoon isn’t focused on that, he’s focused on Seokjin who’s finally sitting up and languidly kissing along his jaw.

“Sticky.” Namjoon complains when Seokjin’s front is pressed against his.

“Aw, sorry Namjoonie. How bout I make it up to you?”