Hoseok is a good man.
Every night he tries his best to get eight hours of sleep. Even when he’s nodding off in class, he never skips. (Never the important ones, at least.) He brushes his teeth twice a day, eats nutritionally-balanced meals, and does not fantasize about his boyfriend getting off with his best friend.
Hoseok is also human.
Sure, there are days when dance practice gets out late and he crashes without brushing his teeth, and yeah, sometimes he picks the carrots out of his dinner. And maybe some nights, when Taehyung is away visiting his family and the heat gets under Hoseok’s skin, his mind slips.
But that doesn’t mean anything. Just because he’s rubbed one off thinking about Taehyung on his knees for Jimin doesn’t mean that he’s a bad person.
It starts like this:
Taehyung is lying on the bed, switching his attention between watching Hoseok try on outfits and looking at memes on his phone. In typical Taehyung fashion, he’ll spend about half as much time getting ready and will look like he spent twice as long as anybody else. If Hoseok didn’t love him so much he’d probably resent him for it.
“You sure it’s okay if I go, babe?” Taehyung asks as he watches Hoseok trade his shirt for a different one. “I don’t even even know the host.”
Hoseok pulls his head through the tee. “I’m sure. Besides, there’s about as many degrees of separation between me and Kevin Bacon as there are between me and the host. The more people that show up, the better the party is, and the better the hosts look. They just want people to show up and drink their booze so they can brag about it later.”
“Oh. Well, it’d be rude to turn down free booze,” Taehyung scrutinizes Hoseok as he does a quick 360. “Keep the shirt. That’s the one.”
Hoseok fidgets in the mirror. “You sure?”
“Yup. Switch back to the other jeans, though,” Taehyung affirms and looks back at his phone. “Hey, can I invite Jimin and Yoongi-hyung to this thing?”
Hoseok’s friend’s roommate’s girlfriend’s sister is throwing the party, so obviously that means he’s invited. And if he’s invited, then obviously Taehyung is invited. And wherever Taehyung goes, Jimin and Yoongi are always close behind. So really, Hoseok shouldn’t be surprised.
“Yeah, sure. Just make sure you invite them to the Facebook event so they can get in at the door.”
“Thanks, hyung!” Taehyung perks up. “You’re the best.”
Taehyung perks up even more a couple hours later with a few drinks in him. He’s also a bit of a lightweight, so by the time Hoseok is starting to feel buzzed Taehyung is already glassy-eyed and full with restless energy. It’s never a state he should leave him in to fend for himself, but Hoseok isn’t sure he can watch this guy with a soul patch obliviously attempt to seduce Taehyung without more alcohol.
“Tae, I’m gonna go grab another drink.”
“Sure.” Taehyung waves him off, still not picking up on Soul Patch’s interest whatsoever. Hoseok doesn’t know why he bothers, sometimes.
He gets stopped in the kitchen by a drunk junior who’s apparently a fan of the dance videos he uploads. It’s a short conversation but somehow, during the time he was gone fetching his drink, Taehyung has disappeared. It’s probably for the best, given how Soul Patch had been creeping closer earlier, and it’s expected. Typical, really. Because whenever Taehyung and Jimin are at the same party, Hoseok and Yoongi get ditched.
Consistently, and inevitably, abandoned.
And Hoseok isn’t mad about it. Really, he isn’t. He’s not one of those boyfriends that insists on spending every single moment with Taehyung. The last thing he aspires to be is some emotionally-stunted boyfriend with a jealousy complex worthy of a teen movie sub-plot. A healthy relationship requires trust and distance. (Hoseok’s read a brochure about it. He’s practically an expert.)
He spots Yoongi sitting alone in the corner of another room before he can locate Taehyung.
“Hey,” Hoseok slumps into the seat next to him. “I’m guessing Jimin ditched you, too?”
“Yup,” Yoongi gestures over to the opposite side of the room with his cup. “He’s over there with your boyfriend acting out a scene from The Notebook , or some shit.”
Hoseok’s never seen The Notebook— and he suspects Yoongi hasn’t, either—but the way Taehyung is perched in Jimin’s lap, giggling and stroking his hair is sappy enough to warrant the comparison.
It’s a testament to how often this happens that neither of them bat an eyelash as Taehyung leans in too close to whisper something in Jimin’s ear. Instead, they just clink their cups together and take a long drink. If anything, moments like this have probably made them closer friends. Some of the most interesting conversations they’ve had have taken place while they were tipsy, bonding over the loss of their respective boyfriends.
By the time he finishes his cup, Hoseok is a little too drunk to be an active listener during Yoongi’s rant about some asshole who’s been stealing his studio time. It fades into background noise as Hoseok watches Jimin push Taehyung off his lap and into the crowd dancing. It’s a good thing that Yoongi doesn’t need any feedback on his dilemma because suddenly Hoseok can’t pay attention to anything except for Jimin’s hands sliding through Taehyung’s belt loops to initiate some very unplatonic looking grinding.
Taehyung isn’t a dancer the way Jimin is. But what he lacks in training, he makes up for in effort and sensuality. Hoseok’s been on the other side of those hip rolls before so he understands why Jimin frees his fingers from the belt loops to clutch onto Taehyung’s hips.
Jimin, on the other hand, is a trained dancer—a great one. Hoseok himself has advised him on some of the moves he’s currently executing against Taehyung’s crotch, and it’s a bit disorienting to see him use them on Hoseok’s own boyfriend. Normally he’d mean ‘disoriented’ in a bad way, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe it’s the way the two of them haven’t once broken eye contact, or the way that Taehyung has a serious look on his face for once, but Hoseok is entranced and he can’t look away. It’s raunchy, and bordering something almost inappropriate, but it’s definitely…Hoseok licks his lips. It’s—
“Hey, are you listening to me?”
Hoseok realizes belatedly that Yoongi is talking to him. He hopes the look on his face isn’t too obvious.
“You’re staring off into space. What’s—oh, damn.” Yoongi must have realized what was capturing his attention. “They’re back at it again, huh?”
‘It’ is a vague word, but Hoseok assumes that Yoongi’s referring to the way Jimin is trying to give everybody in the room a clear picture of what he’s like in the bedroom, and the way he’s staring at Taehyung like he’s getting a hands-on demonstration later—the way that Taehyung looks like he’s planning on accepting that invitation.
“Yeah,” Hoseok says, still dazed, and he can’t stop himself from asking. “Hey, do you think they’ve ever...?”
Yoongi follows his gaze over to where Jimin is tugging Taehyung’s hair and pushing their foreheads together. If Hoseok didn’t know any better, he’d think they were about to kiss. He still isn’t sure they aren’t going to, to be honest.
“Hooked up?” Yoongi asks. Hoseok nods. “Nah. They haven’t.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
Hoseok’s not sure how he can be, when Jimin and Taehyung still look like they’re one more song away from taking the hip-rolling from vertical to horizontal.
Yoongi takes a sip of his drink. “Jimin and I have talked about it.”
“Oh.” Hoseok had thought about bringing it up with Taehyung before, but he was sure that it would just cause an argument about lack of trust or something.
From across the room, Jimin lifts a hand up to stroke the choker around Taehyung’s neck. He slips his finger under where it’s rubbing against Taehyung’s adam’s apple and Taehyung’s hips stutter forward as he throws his head back. Jesus . Hoseok adjusts his pants in a way that he hopes is inconspicuous. Yoongi’s gaze burns in his peripherals and he knows he’s been caught.
The stool groans as it drags across the floor and suddenly Yoongi is a lot closer. Too close. There’s a sheen of sweat on his neck that he only becomes aware of because there’s a puff of hot breath against it. Hoseok tries to get up so he can go get fresh air, or splash some much-needed cold water on his face, but he finds he’s stuck to his chair.
“I don’t know how you can think that they’ve fucked before.” The way Yoongi enunciates the obscenity sends a shiver up his spine. Hoseok hadn’t known such a dirty word could get even filthier, but Yoongi had a gift for speaking. He’d witnessed what ripples Yoongi’s tongue could stir up in a studio, and he should’ve guessed that extended to other areas as well. “There’s way too much unresolved sexual tension between them.”
The beat of the song drops and a set of spindly fingers settle on Hoseok’s knee. He doesn’t want to look down in a futile attempt to pretend it isn’t happening—but he can still feel the way they start to slide up the seam of his thigh slowly.
“You think it’s hot, right?” The fingers creep higher. “That’s why you asked?”
Hoseok nods, because whether it’s the hand on his leg, or the alcohol pulsing through his heart, or the heady beat of the music, there’s no denying that he knows exactly what Yoongi’s talking about. The zipper of his pants is staring dig in painfully.
“The best part is that they don’t even realize what they’re doing. All that tension and they’re not even doing it on purpose.” Yoongi’s lips are brushing against his earlobe every other word.
“It’s—” Hoseok doesn't know what word to use for what he’s trying to get across. The way the dancing and hooded looks and wandering hands are sending the blood flowing south.
Jimin and Taehyung continue their dance. Gyrating, panting, completely oblivious to the way they’re being watched.
Yoongi’s fingers are still warm against his thighs. “Have you thought about it before? What they’d be like together?”
Hoseok hadn’t. Not before tonight, at least. Or consciously.
When Jimin and Taehyung finally collapse back onto the couch Hoseok feels loss instead of relief like he should. But even though the show is over, Yoongi’s fingers still haven’t left his seam.
“I’d kill to watch it, wouldn’t you?” He whispers in Hoseok’s ear. “Just something to think about.”
As quick as those fingers brush across the front of his pants they’re gone, and Hoseok thinks he may have imagined it happened at all. It feels like Yoongi is up and gone in an instant. Hoseok blinks and suddenly Yoongi is wedging himself between the other two, probably telling Jimin it’s time to leave, which means Taehyung will be looking for him again soon. This is the worst possible time to have a dirty, shameful boner.
Hoseok has to calm down before Taehyung walks over. He’s not sure he wants to explain why he’s sitting alone in a corner with a tent in his pants.
True to his prediction, Taehyung wanders over after he hugs the others goodbye. Hoseok’s not sure what Taehyung sees in him as he eyes him up and down, but it must not be good from the smirk he’s greeted with. Taehyung strokes the hair on the back of his neck in comfort.
“What the hell did you smoke, babe? You look wrecked. Should’ve shared some with me.”
Hoseok latches onto the out. “Oh yeah. It was wild but, uh. You looked busy.”
Taehyung smiles brightly. Hoseok feels dirty just looking at it. He needs to get out of this hot room and away from the eyes all around them that suddenly seem so knowing.
“Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Hoseok slides a hand onto the sliver of skin between Taehyung’s shirt and pants as he leads him out of the apartment. The skin there is still warm from where Jimin’s hands were gripping it earlier.
He wakes up the next morning with an uncomfortable erection and a lingering inkling of guilt.
The thing is, Hoseok doesn’t know how to bring it up.
Dignity won’t let him say I’m sort of extremely attracted to the thought of seeing you make out with your best friend out loud, and he’s been sort-of-not-really-but-kind-of avoiding Yoongi. Every time his finger hovers over Yoongi’s contact to ask for advice, he gets flashbacks of a hand ghosting over his dick. He’s conflicted, a little aroused, and definitely at a standstill.
And so inevitably, just like every other dilemma he has, Hoseok resorts to his fallback solution: getting Taehyung drunk.
It’s never a hard sell. Puppy-dog eyes have never failed him, and for a little extra convincing he throws in some bullshit about having a bunch of wine he needs to get rid of soon. Hook, line, sinker, profit. Or however that goes.
The setting is perfect—intimate, comfortable, and a little sexy. They’re lying in a pile of pillows on the living room floor with the remnants of already eaten feel-good snacks all around them. The speakers are crooning out sultry jazz music that neither one of them is really into, but seemed to fit the vibe of the night. On the table is incense and a lit candle that Hoseok hopes one of them will have the foresight to blow out before they fall asleep later.
Taehyung hums along idly to a saxophone solo, stopping every once in awhile to tell disjointed stories about his band exploits in high school. Hoseok doesn’t take much away from it except the warm, perfect way that Taehyung’s voice feels rumbling against his chest.
It’s a perfect plan, right up until Hoseok realizes that he’s just as drunk as Taehyung and still doesn’t know what to say. It also doesn’t help that Taehyung is reaching that wine-drunk stage where he gets especially clingy and horny.
Hoseok’s not sure the best time to bring this up is when he’s being slowly rubbed off through his sweats. Well, that’s what the wine’s for, isn’t it? Making bad decisions seem smart.
“Hmm,” Taehyung hums. His eyes are closed, and Hoseok might think that was out of tiredness and not drunken contentedness if his hand wasn't feeling him up. “What?”
“Remember that party we went to last week?”
“And how you ditched me for Jimin?”
Taehyung smiles. “Bros before hoes, hyung. You know how it is.”
“Does that still hold up when you’re in a committed relationship with said ‘hoe’?” Hoseok flicks at Taehyung’s ear in retaliation. “And I’m not a hoe. I’m Ho- seok.”
“It’s hard to love you when you say shit like that, you know,” Taehyung whines. “Besides, I’m being a cute boyfriend right now. Why are you even remembering that party, anyway?”
“I was just thinking about how you and Jimin were dancing together.”
“Oh?” Taehyung cracks open an eye. He doesn’t slow his hand.
“Yeah. You like dancers, baby?” Hoseok presses a kiss behind his ear.
“Hmm, I guess,” Taehyung presses his hand down a little harder. “Maybe subconsciously since I can’t seem to stop surrounding myself with you guys.”
Hoseok smiles and leaves a trail of kisses down his neck.
“Not like that, baby. Do you think it’s—” He nips at Taehyung’s collarbone. “—sexy?”
Taehyung pulls him up for a wet kiss and lets go with a sly grin. “I think you’re sexy.”
And Hoseok is so, so endeared but this isn’t the direction he wanted this to go in. Still, Taehyung has earned a sloppy kiss and Hoseok can’t hold himself back from giving it to him. He’ll try to bring this up another day. All other thoughts slip away as Taehyung slides a hand up his shirt.
“You and Jiminie dance differently, anyway.”
Or maybe not. Hoseok would have to be an idiot to let this opportunity slip away. “Yeah?” He wedges a leg in between Taehyung’s. “Different how?”
Taehyung’s definitely hard against his thigh. It’s probably a very good sign that he’s still turned on while he’s talking about this, but Hoseok’s not sure. You reach a point in any relationship where you can talk about whose turn it is to do laundry while you’re having sex and they may have reached it.
“Well,” Taehyung pauses as Hoseok pushes his shirt over his head. “The way you dance is, like, super fluid. Graceful, and all that. And, like, your moves are so smooth and, ah—” Hoseok tugs at Taehyung’s zipper and brings his jeans down until they’re midway down his thighs. “—natural and stuff.”
“Oh? If I’d known you had so many good things to say about me I would have asked sooner.”
Taehyung smirks. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you sooner. Didn’t want you getting all cocky.”
“Who’s cocky?” Hoseok traces the soft skin of Taehyung’s pelvis with a nail, intentionally brushing against Taehyung’s bulge with his palm.
“Stop. All your stupid puns are turning me off.”
“That’s not what it feels like,” Hoseok presses down and Taehyung groans. “And you didn’t finish explaining the dancing thing.”
Taehyung shudders as Hoseok pulls him from his briefs. He jerks him in his hand until Taehyung’s cock is standing a little straighter, and then he lowers his mouth down to lick.
“Well, like I was saying Jiminie’s dance is, shit —” Taehyung throws his head back onto the pillow he’s lying on as Hoseok fondles his balls. “—like, it’s rougher and, ah, a-and harder and—”
Hoseok sucks Taehyung down and he stops talking altogether. The only sounds that fill the room for a while aren’t words at all, expect for a few fuck ’s and some unintelligible jazz lyrics and God, Hoseok, I’m—
Taehyung must be getting close because he grips Hoseok’s hair in the way he only does if he’s about to cum. Hoseok honestly isn’t expecting anything else, but even with his toes curling and his eyes sliding shut, Taehyung starts talking again.
“Sometimes when Jiminie and I are dancing, he, ah , grabs my h-hips and, like, it’s so aggressive and, shit, fuck, Jiminie— ” Taehyung spills into his mouth. Hoseok swallows as much as he can and pulls off, wiping the rest off his mouth with his arm. They sit there, panting, and try to catch their breath.
“Shit,” Taehyung looks so honestly distressed that Hoseok is ready to confess how he was sort of tricking him all along, and that he’s the one in the wrong, and it was his fault that Taehyung moaned someone else’s name when he was—“I should’ve warned you before I came. Sorry.”
Hoseok blinks, surprised. “Ah. No, no, it’s fine,” He reassures quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”
They don’t talk about it. Taehyung returns the favor—with enthusiasm that Hoseok isn’t sure how to categorize—and they make it to their bed before they collapse for the night, even remembering to blow out the candle. Hoseok makes sure Taehyung is soundly asleep, head against his chest and arms tight around his waist, before he pulls out his phone to text Yoongi.
yoongi hyung!!! >:(
i thought u were avoiding me
yeah, well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I just sucked tae off and he came while describing the way jimin dances
lemme talk to jimin
The talk with Jimin must go well, because Hoseok receives a text a few days after that just reads jimin’s in . He tries to figure out how that happened but Yoongi refuses to divulge anything, the secretive bastard. He’ll get the story out of him someday.
Now the only issue is figuring out if Taehyung’s interested. Hoseok can’t even resort to his usual fallback, either, because Taehyung needs to be sober when he consents. He’s about 95% sure that Taehyung is at least sexually attracted to Jimin—and, honestly, who wouldn’t be?—but there’s still the issue of whether or not he actually wants to go through with it. The two of them have that whole platonic-soulmate thing going on, so Hoseok would understand if he didn’t want to tamper with that. Except he’s almost positive that Taehyung does want to.
Taehyung’s defenses look low as he rubs sleep from his eyes with one hand and pours cereal with the other. His face is swollen and he’s wearing well-worn briefs with one of Hoseok’s old, stretched-out dance t-shirts, slipping off one shoulder. There’s a ring on his thumb as well. Hoseok can tell it’s Jimin’s by the way it slides loosely between knuckle and joint.
“Yeah?” Taehyung doesn’t look up from his cereal. His eyes are barely open, just narrow slits above dark circles.
Hoseok bites his lip. He can ease into this. It’s fine. “Remember the other night? When we were drinking wine?”
“And remember how you were talking about the way that Jimin dances?”
Taehyung freezes almost unnoticeably before taking another bite. His eyes open wider, looking a little more alert. “Yeah. Why?”
“This is probably going to sound weird, but, um. How do you feel about Jimin?”
“He’s my best friend in the whole world and I would do anything for him,” Taehyung narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
Bite the bullet , Hoseok thinks. Bite it. Just ask him. “And by ‘do anything’ you mean…?"
Taehyung still looks suspicious. “Die for him, kill for him. Donate a kidney. Maybe even both kidneys, if he needs them.”
“What about, like—” Hoseok bites the bullet. “—sex?”
“What?” Taehyung flushes red. It’s probably embarrassment, but it’s possible that maybe...
“I mean, how would you feel about having sex with him?”
Now, Taehyung looks more confused than suspicious. “Is this a jealousy thing or whatever? I tell you that I love you, like, a hundred times a day. I literally said it to you five minutes ago when I woke up. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“No, no, it’s not that. I’m just—interested.” Hoseok finishes lamely. Taehyung doesn’t look convinced.
“So it’s a trick question?” He asks. “It doesn’t matter what I think because we’re dating and Jimin’s with Yoongi.”
Hoseok stares down at the table. “Actually, uh, Yoongi is interested, too.”
Taehyung sets down his spoon, clearly bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
“Ok, just give me a minute and I’ll figure out how to word this.” Hoseok can feel his face heating up. “Basically, um, Yoongi-hyung and I think it would be really hot if we could watch you and Jimin have sex.”
He definitely says it too fast, and he definitely could’ve worded it better. But it’s done. Taehyung blinks once, twice. Hoseok’s heart is beating like he’s running a marathon. He hasn’t felt this nervous before, ever.
“I—Uh. Um, I haven’t thought about that before,” Taehyung stutters nervously. “I mean, like, obviously Jiminie’s attractive and all but I’ve never—never thought about—”
Hoseok nods comfortingly at his distressed look. “No, no, it’s totally cool to say no. If you want, I’ll never bring this up again and we can totally forget it ever happened. Just say the word.”
Taehyung stares down at his cereal, stirring it slowly. “You really think it’d be hot?”
“Scorching,” Hoseok confirms. “But really. It’s totally cool if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“Huh,” Taehyung finally says after an awkward minute. “Well, to be honest I would be sort of into that, but Jimin—”
“Ah,” Hoseok grins sheepishly. “Actually, Jimin already agreed.”
“You guys asked Jimin before me?” Taehyung gasps, offended. And then the implication must sink in because his face turns red again. “Jimin said yes? He agreed to-to-…that? With me?”
“Oh,” Taehyung says softly and stands abruptly up from his chair. “I’m gonna go text Jimin.”
Hoseok isn’t worried about however that conversation goes because Taehyung walks out of his room an hour later looking happier than he has all morning. And that’s when the implication sinks in for Hoseok. Holy shit, he thinks as he texts Yoongi the news. He thought he was above getting hard alone at the kitchen table before he even eats breakfast, but here he is. Eating cheerios alone in the kitchen with a semi. Holy shit.
holy shit , Yoongi agrees.
Taehyung claims that it’s better if they don’t jump right into it. He’d been a part of a few threesomes before he and Hoseok had gotten together and insists that it’s always better to ease into the sex.
“It feels a lot more natural if you drink and chat before hand,” He’d told Hoseok. “It’s really awkward if you just start in the bedroom and start doing it, even if you know the people. I promise.”
Regardless of that reassurance, Hoseok had thought the atmosphere would be a lot more uncomfortable—maybe a little stiffer, or tense with anticipation. But instead it just feels like a normal night, all crowded around the table in Hoseok and Taehyung’s living room, telling stories that gradually get dumber and less coherent as the drinks pile up around them.
“Hyung~” Jimin sing-songs. “I just finished my drink~”
Yoongi groans. “I’m comfortable, Minie. Go get another one yourself.”
“Fine,” Jimin pouts. “TaeTae~” His cheeks are dusted pink with his buzz. “Can you get me another bottle?”
“Anything for you, Jiminie.”
Taehyung returns with two bottles. This time when he sits down, his thigh is pressed flush against Jimin’s so that there’s barely space between them. They drink in sync with one another. Jimin raises an arm to wipe away some of the soju dripping from his bottom lip but Taehyung gets to it with his thumb first.
“You missed a spot,” Taehyung says, then licks the liquid from his finger. Jimin’s eyes track the digit into his mouth as Taehyung sucks around it with his tongue. Hoseok sees Yoongi set his bottle down out of the corner of his eye. His own bottle is frozen somewhere between his mouth and the table.
When Taehyung finally pulls his finger out, a thin trail of saliva follows.
“You missed a spot, too,” Jimin says, so soft it’s barely audible, and then he grabs Taehyung by the nape of his neck and pulls their mouths together.
“Oh.” Somebody says. Hoseok realizes a second later that it was him.
It really is a nice sight, Hoseok thinks a little dazedly. He’d thought that the first kiss might be awkward between them but it was anything but. One of Jimin’s hands drifts down to grip Taehyung’s ass and the other tugs at his hair to find a better angle. Every so often their mouths separate with wet noises and it’s really not as disgusting as it should be. Hoseok has the sense to set his bottle down before it slips out of his hand.
Jimin pulls back momentarily. “This okay?”
Taehyung is panting, but manages to smile through it. “Better than okay. Perfect."
And then they’re right back at it. Jimin pulls Taehyung onto his lap this time, hands pushing at the hem of his pants until his fingertips sneak underneath the elastic of his briefs. With Taehyung’s back facing him, Hoseok can’t see the way their mouths are pressing together anymore. But the way that Jimin’s hands have jostled Taehyung’s pants down a bit so that he can see more of the skin Jimin is kneading is still a nice view. The way Taehyung’s hips are hitching forward desperately and Jimin’s knuckles are turning white with the force of his grip on Taehyung is probably Hoseok’s cue to redirect them to the bedroom, but he doesn’t dare open his mouth to break the spell.
“Hey,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through his hesitancy. “Let’s take it to the bedroom, yeah?”
The only sign that either of them registered the words is the shudder that goes up Jimin’s back at the command and the gradual rise to his feet. Taehyung hooks his legs around Jimin’s hips rather than standing up himself, refusing to break lip contact for even the short time it would take to walk to the bedroom. Jimin stumbles under Taehyung’s added weight and his tipsiness. They pause against one wall as Jimin readjusts his grip on Taehyung’s ass and then they’re tumbling into the bedroom with Yoongi and Hoseok close behind.
Jimin manages to make it to the bed before he dumps Taehyung. There’s a bit of awkward hovering as Hoseok tries to figure out where to position himself, but the bed is big enough that there’s enough room for them to sit at the end and watch.
Jimin pulls back when Taehyung starts to cup his jaw. He runs a nail along the band resting on Taehyung’s index finger.
“Is this my ring?”
Taehyung nods. Hoseok notices that it’s different from the one on his thumb the other day, which means that Taehyung has at least two of Jimin’s rings lying around.
“You keep leaving them all over the place.” Taehyung mumbles in his defense.
Jimin swipes his tongue around the metal, sucking Taehyung’s finger into his mouth. Hoseok watches Taehyung’s eyes follow the ring as it drags between his thick lips. It’s not hard to imagine something else in its place.
Taehyung must be thinking something similar because he pulls his finger from Jimin’s mouth and pushes Jimin’s head down to his neck. Hoseok meets his half-lidded gaze above Jimin’s head and feels something stir in his gut. It’s the first time since they first kissed that he realizes this show is for him.
There’s a soft ripping noise and Hoseok realizes that in the midst of sucking an impressive bruise into Taehyung’s neck, Jimin tore open the self-cut collar of Taehyung’s shirt even wider.
“Shit,” Jimin pulls back to view the damage. The shirt droops low now, dangerously close to baring one of Taehyung’s nipples.
“It’s okay. You just underestimated these arms, Jiminie,” Taehyung caresses his hands up Jimin’s biceps and smiles. Hoseok thinks it looks devilish. “I was hoping you’d take it off me soon, anyway.”
Jimin doesn’t need to be asked twice. He slips the shirt off him and Taehyung lies back down against the bed, skin looking even tanner against the stark whiteness of the pillowcase. There’s still a hickey near his pelvic bone from the last time Hoseok went down on him. Jimin notices it, too, and presses the flat of his tongue against it. He stares at Hoseok just as he starts sucking another bruise to the side of it. His tongue is about to trail further down but Taehyung pulls him up, breaking the eye-contact.
“Are you going to take this off or do I need to rip it off you, too?” Taehyung plays with the hem of Jimin’s tee.
“Don’t,” Jimin warns as Taehyung pushes the shirt up his chest. “This is my favorite shirt.”
“I know. I bought it for you.”
Hoseok’s seen Jimin shirtless during dance rehearsals or at the gym and it was impressive then. But now, it’s something else entirely. Up against Taehyung’s slim torso he looks even more muscular.
“God, look at you,” Taehyung runs his fingers up the muscles reverently. “So strong. I bet Yoongi-hyung loves it when you hold him, right?”
Hoseok jumps slightly at the mention of Yoongi. They’d been so quiet he’d almost forgotten that Yoongi was there with them.
“He does,” Jimin leans down to lick and blow at Taehyung’s nipple. “You should hear how loud he gets when I fuck him against the wall.”
Hoseok glances over to see what Yoongi’s reaction is to being talked about like he’s not even in the room. Instead of looking disgruntled like Hoseok thought he might, he’s staring straight back at him.
Yoongi smirks and inches closer to him. “They’re giving us such a good show. Don’t you think we should give them something to watch, too?”
Hoseok can’t argue with that. As soon as he nods, Yoongi twists the front of his shirt in his fingers and pulls Hoseok down. His kisses with Taehyung are usually desperate and wet. This kiss is controlled fire and Hoseok’s feels his toes curl involuntarily.
“Fuck, look at them,” He hears Taehyung whisper from the other side of the bed. It makes Hoseok feel oddly proud to be able to make his boyfriend sound so affected. He doesn’t open his eyes to see what the two of them are doing, but whatever it is draws a moan out of Jimin.
It’s a sight to see when he and Yoongi finally separate. Jimin is sitting between Taehyung’s legs, back resting against his chest. Taehyung has Jimin’s cock in his hand, briefs and pants pulled down just far enough for him to have full access.
“So...how do you want us?” Taehyung asks, not slowing his hand even as Jimin whimpers. Hoseok thinks he’s speaking to him at first but Taehyung is looking straight at Yoongi.
“What should we make them do first?” Yoongi turns to him, sliding a hand up his thigh just like he had the night of the party.
Immediately, the image of Taehyung on his knees comes to Hoseok’s mind—the exact image that had started all this for him in the first place.
“Tae. I want Tae to suck him off first.”
Taehyung slides his gaze over to Hoseok for a brief moment before pushing Jimin forward lightly.
“Alright. Lean back and get comfy, Jiminie.”
Jimin slides back until his back is resting against the headboard. Taehyung pulls his pants and briefs down the rest of the way, tossing them over the side of the bed, and ducks his head down. With Taehyung’s body blocking the way it’s hard to see what’s happening, but Jimin’s face tells the whole story.
“Tae,” he gasps, followed by a wet noise Hoseok usually associates with the nights Taehyung puts in extra effort. Jimin’s eyes flutter closed, and it hits Hoseok how surreal it is to see somebody in his place. How bizarrely proud he gets every time Taehyung draws a broken sound out of Jimin.
Before Hoseok can readjust himself to find a better angle, Yoongi makes his hand known on his thigh again.
“You can watch,” Yoongi says. “Just let me—”
Rather than say anything else, he lifts the bottom hem of Hoseok’s shirt and pushes it up his chest. It gets stuck at his arms so Hoseok pulls the rest of it off himself. Yoongi sheds his own shirt and tosses it with the rest of the clothes.
By the time he gets his head through the collar, Jimin is gripping the back of Taehyung’s neck and leading him down slowly. Taehyung continues to bob his head, getting slightly lower each time.
“Take these off too.” Yoongi scrapes his fingernail along the top seam of Hoseok’s pants.
Hoseok does his best to unbutton them without taking his eyes off the others. The curve of Taehyung’s tan back gets deeper the lower he bobs his head, and Hoseok can’t seem to look away from the way Jimin’s throat becomes exposed as he throws his head back against the headboard.
It’s good that the jeans are coming off, because they’ve been slowly getting unbearably restrictive over the course of the night.
But even with just their briefs on, Yoongi doesn’t try anything. Just runs his fingers lightly over Hoseok’s ribs until he feels goosebumps rise up.
“Taehyung, pull off,” Yoongi says, a little too close to Hoseok’s ear. “I wanna see more, and he never lasts long with someone blowing him.”
“Fuck you,” Jimin pants shakily, but lets go of Taehyung’s neck to let him pull off.
Taehyung rests back onto his calves facing Hoseok, face inquisitive.
Yoongi drags his fingers a little lower until they’re just barely brushing the elastic covering his hip bone. “What should we have them do next, Seok?”
“Um—” Hoseok pauses, finding it hard to think suddenly. “Let them decide.”
Jimin leans forward, resting his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around his torso. Taehyung relaxes back into the hold.
“I want Jiminie to fuck me,” he says.
Jimin turns his head to nip at Taehyung’s neck. “I think I can do that. Lube?”
“Bedside table,” Hoseok answers, because Taehyung is too busy whimpering under the assault of tiny kisses Jimin is littering his neck with.
Jimin reaches an arm out to rifle through the drawer, keeping the other hand wrapped tightly around Taehyung’s waist.
“On all fours, Taehyung,” Yoongi orders. Taehyung lowers his body down in response, placing himself right in front of Jimin’s body.
“Strawberry flavored?” Jimin asks, squinting at the bottle in his hand. “You’re so predictable.”
Taehyung pouts, wiggling around a little on his forearms. “It’s cute, and it tastes good.”
Hoseok scoffs. “No, it tastes like shit.”
“Yeah, but all lube tastes like shit. You gotta think about it being relative—at least it tastes like strawberry-flavored shit.”
Jimin just laughs and uncaps it.
Taehyung and Jimin share a smile over the wet noise the bottle of lube makes as it empties out onto Jimin’s palm. The smiles don’t last long, though, because a minute later Jimin has his fingers lined up behind Taehyung, teasing at the entrance.
“Hurry up,” Taehyung whines.
Jimin pushes the first finger in and Taehyung yelps.
“Shit! That’s cold.”
“You’re the one who told me to hurry up,” Jimin complains under his breath.
“I meant hurry up with warming it up, idiot.”
Jimin rolls his eyes and pushes the finger in further, glancing up to meet Hoseok gaze. “I guess he’s a brat during sex too, huh?”
Taehyung turns his head around slightly to glare at him. “What do you mean ‘too’?”
Instead of responding, Jimin just adds another finger and Taehyung’s face twists back around into an expression of pained bliss.
“Tell me how he feels,” Hoseok pets his hair and Taehyung pushes his head up against his fingers, desperate for more contact.
“His fingers are wider than yours, babe. I feel so—ah, full,” Taehyung pants. “But yours are so good to me too. So long—they get so deep.”
Jimin seems to take that as a challenge. His grip on Taehyung’s hip tightens, and Hoseok accidentally yanks on Taehyung’s hair as he pushes back onto Jimin’s fingers. His head is still arched back from where Hoseok has a grip, long neck bared like he’s inviting somebody to latch onto it. Hoseok doesn’t disappoint. It’s tricky to get his mouth on it while Taehyung is rocking back so much, so when he pulls back the mark he is irritated and red from where his teeth accidentally scraped.
“Jimin, add another,” Yoongi commands.
Hoseok can pinpoint the exact moment that he does. Taehyung’s mouth falls open, curses forced out in between pants.
“I’m ready,” Taehyung looks up at Hoseok pleadingly. “Fuck, Jimin, please .”
Yoongi hands Jimin a condom from the bedside table. He rolls it onto himself, slicking it up with extra lube once it’s on.
In front of him, Taehyung is still pleading. “Hurry Jimin. Fuck , I need you in me.”
Jimin lines himself up behind him. Taehyung groans as he finally pushes all the way in, slowly, taking his time to make sure he can adjust.
“I’m good, I’m good,” Taehyung pants. “So good, Jimin. Come on.”
“You sure?” Jimin teases, pulling out a little and sliding back in again.
“Yeah, fuck. I’m gonna kill you if you don’t—ah ,” Taehyung’s sentence dissolves into moans as Jimin finally slams into him.
There’s always something satisfying about finally getting Taehyung to stop speaking. Hoseok knows from experience that all it takes is finding the right angle and a fast pace.
“Don’t go easy on him,” Hoseok says when Jimin starts to slow down his thrusts. “He likes it when you go hard.”
Jimin adjusts his grip on Taehyung until his knuckles are white with the effort. “Oh, so you like it rough, baby?”
Taehyung just whimpers. His face is pink with exertion and with the way he’s been biting his bottom lip, it’ll probably be swollen for a few days.
As Jimin finds his pace Yoongi finally reaches over to pull Hoseok into another kiss. It’s messier than last time, probably out of desperation. Hoseok can tell that Yoongi is enjoying the sight just as much as he is. The way Jimin is wrecking Taehyung in the most perfect way, the subtle taboo of touching somebody other than their boyfriends intimately like they haven’t in so long.
Yoongi bites down lightly on his bottom lip as he reaches into Hoseok’s briefs. Hoseok opens his mouth wider at the relief, dragging his hand down the hair above Yoongi’s navel to return the favor. It’s the perfect sense of completion, something Hoseok hadn’t realized he’d been needing ever since the night of the party when Yoongi’s fingers had ghosted over his zipper and left everything feeling unfinished.
“Jimin,” Taehyung whines, voice shaky from the way he’s rocking forward. “Jimin, they look so good.”
Hoseok’s lips turn up at the corners from the compliment. Yoongi seems to appreciate it as well, with the way he moves his palm up to rub at the head of Hoseok’s cock. After a few seconds Yoongi pulls his hand back out and Hoseok almost whimpers at the loss.
“Throw me the lube, Jimin."
Taehyung doesn’t look happy when Jimin’s thrusts slow so he can toss the bottle, but it’s all worth it for Hoseok when Yoongi works his hand back around him without the rough burn of friction.
Even through his haze of pleasure, though, Hoseok registers that Taehyung’s moans are starting to get louder. He pumps Yoongi one last time before pulling back his hand. Yoongi stills his hand as well, looking up at him in irritated confusion.
“Hold on. I think Tae’s getting close and I wanna watch the rest.”
Yoongi glances back over to where Jimin is making Taehyung look like he’s going to cry soon. “Yeah, no kidding. Fuck.”
Hoseok can devote his full attention to how good they’re making this look. Jimin’s arms muscles are straining with the force of his grip. Sweat is dripping off Taehyung’s pink cheeks and falling onto the sheets every so often.
Jimin continues pounding mercilessly in the way Hoseok knows Taehyung loves. He catches Taehyung’s eye and watches as his fingers grip the sheets harder from the knowledge Hoseok is watching him again.
“Jimin,” Taehyung grits out. It’s almost exactly the way he’d said it during their wine night not so long ago, and Hoseok knows that he’s close.
“Tae,” Jimin echoes. “Shit. I’m—”
A few choppy thrusts later, Jimin groans and tightens his hold on Taehyung’s hips as he finishes. He stays like that for a few seconds before pulling out completely, tying off the condom and tossing it away. Taehyung glances behind himself, looking a little put out.
“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet. Come here,” Jimin motions to Taehyung when he sits back on the bed.
Taehyung crawls into his lap, kissing him full on as Jimin uses his hand, still sticky from lube and come, to jack him off. The kiss quickly becomes something sloppy, Taehyung distracted by the way Jimin’s hand is moving to do anything but open his mouth passively and let Jimin lead.
Hoseok can hear the way Jimin’s wet strokes speed up. Taehyung’s back arches again, and he reaches his hands up to grip onto Jimin’s shoulders. Jimin uses the hand not working up his length to grab onto Taehyung’s ass and knead. Taehyung groans into Jimin’s mouth, clearly feeling the overstimulation.
The more Taehyung writhes, the harder Jimin kisses him. He twists a little too much in Jimin’s grip and Jimin spanks him lightly. Hoseok knows he’s done for.
“Fuck, Jimin!” Hoseok watches his body shiver as he releases into Jimin’s hand and onto his stomach.
Contrary to what he usually does with him, Taehyung doesn’t collapse immediately. Instead, he crawls forward toward the foot of the bed until he’s kneeling in front of Hoseok and Yoongi. Hoseok loves watching him when he’s like this, loves taking it all in: the languid blinks, the way his arms are shaking slightly with sensitivity, just barely able to support his body. His body is covered with little marks and Hoseok’s eyes follow their path all the way down.
The skin around Taehyung’s hips is red and irritated from where Jimin was gripping earlier. Hoseok imagines that he’ll be gripping onto the ghosts of those bruises the next time he fucks into Taehyung, fingers clutching at the exact space where Jimin’s once were. His strokes speed up involuntarily.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Yoongi’s voice hitches.
Taehyung parts his lips and closes his lids in a way that Hoseok’s told him makes him look deliciously fucked out before. It’s a clear invitation and Yoongi’s strokes speed up in response. He looks a little desperate, and Hoseok remembers that not everybody is so accustomed to Taehyung’s peculiar brand of shamelessness. Another few seconds and he’s spurting over Taehyung’s waiting lips and cheeks. They’ve never even kissed, Hoseok realizes. They’ve never even kissed, but Yoongi just came on Taehyung’s face and Taehyung is licking his lips like he’s never enjoyed the taste of anything more.
Taehyung opens his eyes to stare up through half-lidded eyes at Yoongi as he licks the last of the come from his lips and that’s it for Hoseok.
“Fuck Tae,” He pants and releases himself all over Taehyung’s newly clean lips.
Taehyung collapses back onto the bed. Before he can clean up his face, Jimin leans over a second later to capture his lips in a messy kiss. Hoseok groans. If it was anatomically possible for recovery time to be so fast, Hoseok would be hard again. Thankfully, Jimin pulls away before Hoseok has to literally beg them to stop.
A minute later, Taehyung is still lying near-motionless on the bed and looks like he doesn’t plan on getting up for a while still.
“I guess I’ll go get a towel,” Hoseok says. Taehyung makes a noise that’s probably supposed to be thankful, but comes out more as an exhausted groan.
Hoseok holds one of their hand cloths under the water, watching the fabric turn dark. When he walks back into the bedroom, Taehyung has his head resting on Jimin’s shoulder and Yoongi has joined the two of them two rest against the headboard. Hoseok sits next to Yoongi, wipes himself off first and hands the cloth down the line.
“Disgusting,” Yoongi mutters as he cleans himself off. “This is so incredibly unsanitary. I need a bath.”
“I’m pretty sure everything that we just did is more unsanitary,” Taehyung says as he takes his turn. “Or did you forget that a minute ago you were coming on my—”
“Hoseok, please shut your boyfriend up.”
“Tae, remember what we said about post-coital peace and quiet?”
“Whatever. None of you were saying that literally five minutes ago,” Taehyung says, passing the washcloth over to a giggly Jimin.
“Tae, I’m pretty sure you missed a few spots,” Jimin points out. “Like, pretty much your entire ass.”
“Yeah, I know.” Taehyung yawns, already closing his eyes. “Eh, I’ll get it all tomorrow morning. ‘M tired.”
“Disgusting,” Yoongi reiterates. “Hoseok—”
“Nah, I agree with Tae. Let’s just all go to sleep for now.” Hoseok reaches over to turn off the lamp.
Just before he flips the switch, he takes one last look over at the bed. Taehyung’s head is snuggled against Jimin’s chest, legs intertwined with each other and already breathing evenly. Hoseok turns off the light.
There are only two pillows on the bed. When Hoseok lies down to rest, Yoongi is on the pillow facing him.
He smirks at Hoseok. “Aren’t you glad you stopped ignoring me?”
“Shut up. I was the one that went through with it in the end, so don’t take credit.”
“Yeah, but I was the one who gave you the idea.”
“Go to bed, assholes,” Jimin mumbles from the other side of the bed. “Stop gossiping or I’ll throw the cum rag on you in your sleep.”
“Do it and die,” Yoongi says, a little too loud. Taehyung kicks him instinctively in his sleep from his spot in Jimin’s arms. “Fuck.”
Hoseok laughs quietly and closes his eyes. He’s on the edge of falling asleep within a minute. And when Yoongi throws an arm around his waist under the guise of sleep, Hoseok pretends he doesn’t notice.
They’ll sort it all out in the morning.