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spit feathers swallow your pride

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It's almost their last night in New Zealand and tonight, he's sharing a bed with Jungkook.

 

They already share a bed back at the dorms, so he's not too surprised when he enters the room to find Jungkook leaning over a walkie talkie, whispering in a voice that's too deep to be honest, Jin...Jin. Jin.”

 

Namjoon stops and stares at him until he releases the button and Jin's voice sounds from the device instead. “Let me sleep already!”

 

He can hear Hoseok laugh in the background and Jungkook grins, happy with himself. When Namjoon clears his throat, he looks up.

 

“Do you need anything in the bathroom?”

 

“I washed my teeth in Jin-hyung's bathroom.”

 

“Of course. Why would you use this room's bathroom when the one Jin and Hoseok are using is right there at the end of the corridor.”

 

He knows Jungkook gets the sarcasm but he smiles anyway, letting an excited, “Yes exactly!”

 

Namjoon huffs, reaching to ruffle Jungkook's hair. It's weird, because this is vacation as much as this is work, and they know to be careful, know not to slip up, but right now and right there all the cameras have been turned off and no one can see him lean in to peck Jungkook's lips.

 

Jungkook's cheeks are a little pink and his hair unruly from the hot shower he'd taken half an hour ago, but his skin is glowing and he looks happy.

 

“Move,” Namjoon rumbles, pushing him aside so he can claim the side of the bed he's currently sitting on. “That's my side.”

 

“What if I wanted to sleep on the left too hyung? What if I aspire for more than for the right side of the bed every single night?” Jungkook protests even as he scoots away.

 

“You and I both know you'll sleep anytime anywhere,” Namjoon says, sliding under the blanket with a pleased sigh.

 

Jungkook smiles, hair falling into his eyes and big nose scrunching up. He joins Namjoon under the covers, cold hands reaching under his shirt to borrow his warmth.

 

Namjoon hisses. “Stop that.”

 

“Don't be stingy hyung, share your body heat with me.”

 

“No, this is my body heat,” Namjoon says, shivers already subsiding as Jungkook's hands slowly warm up. He makes no move to dislodge them. “Buy your own body heat.”

 

Jungkook giggles and only scoots closer

 

There are no cameras, no staff around, no prying eyes, and it's easy to take off his glasses and turn off the lights and let Jungkook snuggle into him, let his arm slip around his waist and bask in that embrace. The night is cold but they're warm, and Namjoon feels happier than he feels anxious.

 

He listens to the way Jungkook breathe, feels his heart beat against his ribcage, smells his hair right under his nose.

 

“Your hair is getting so long,” he says, letting a hand slip through Jungkook's hair. The ends are dry, forked and damaged, but Namjoon loves it anyway, twisting a strand around his index and playing with Jungkook's hair. Jungkook relaxes against him, melting into his chest, cheek squished against his pec.

 

“You like it?” he mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of Namjoon's shirt, but it's only them and the night so Namjoon hears him just fine.

 

“Yeah. It's pretty.” He lets the strand go and watches it fall in a pretty curl on his shirt. “You're pretty.”

 

Jungkook furrows deeper in his embrace, and Namjoon knows he's blushing a bit, heat above his heart.

 

“Missed you hyung.”

 

It has been some time, since he was alone with Jungkook. They didn't spend their break together, and even though he sent all his travel pictures to Jungkook and received updates on his daily life in Seoul in return, it's not the same as this – not the same as Jungkook laying in his arms, sharing a warm bed in the chilly night.

 

Jungkook shuffles up, bracing his hands against his chest until he's level with his face.

 

“Missed you hyung,” he repeats, a whisper blown on his face, inches away from his lips.

 

Namjoon leans in and presses their mouths together.

 

It's a soft kiss, and then another soft kiss, and another soft kiss, and a series of soft kisses, gentle brushes of their tongues, breathy sighs and hands lightly caressing Namjoon's chest. Jungkook tastes like mint, smells like wet grass and baby lotion. He could drown in it, drown in this moment and in the feeling of Jungkook against him. He breathes Jungkook in and realizes that he's missed him more than he thought he did, that the glimpses of his smile he got on video calls don't quite compare to the real thing.

 

He wraps his arms around Jungkook, tries to squeeze him even closer and Jungkook winces.

 

“Sorry-” Namjoon pulls back a bit, not enough that he doesn't feel Jungkook breathing into his face but enough to catch his eyes. He eyes Jungkook's arm, thinks about the black ink hidden by the long sleeves of his night shirt. Another thing he'll have to get used to.

 

“It's fine,” Jungkook says, “Just a bit sore.”

 

“You're crazy,” Namjoon huffs, but he's smiling. “You know the stylists are going to act like you don't have skin on your arm anymore right?”

 

Jungkook laughs. “I like long sleeves anyway.” And in the same breath he asks, “You don't like it? You're all in it.”

 

“I know,” Namjoon says, because he does, because Jungkook told them beforehand, because he'd looked flustered but he'd went through the trouble of explaining to them what his tattoos meant to him. “You're so sweet.”

 

Jungkook smiles, a bit bashful, and leans down to peck Namjoon's lips.

 

“Although,” Namjoon adds when he pulls back, “You're no longer allowed to touch me.”

 

To this Jungkook squints. “Why?”

 

“I love army and the boys but I don't want any of them near my dick.”

 

The corner of Jungkook's lips twitch like he wants to smile. “You're unfair,” he says. “I can use my left hand, I'm ambidextrous.” He breaks into a bigger grin, and despite the lack of light Namjoon can tells his cheeks are rosy. “You know if I only use my middle and ring finger, I can put RM inside your ass. That would be poetic.”

 

Namjoon has to make an effort to remember Jungkook's hand tattoos, and then he's punching his shoulder and laughing. No,” he says, “No, definitely no, you're really never touching me ever again.”

 

“But hyung,” Jungkook insists. “You're not loving yourself right now. Let me put my fingers in your ass hyung. It will be romantic! Hyung. Hyung, hyung-” and he keeps whining, clutching at his shirt as Namjoon laughs and angles his head away from him.

 

Jungkook presses in, more and more, and Namjoon lowers his arms to his waist, uses his legs to switch them around so Jungkook is the one on in back, hair splayed around him, happy and glowing.

 

“Hyung,” Jungkook pouts. He closes his eyes briefly when Namjoon reaches down to brush his hair out of his face, admiring the way it surrounds him like a halo, admiring the way the moon makes Jungkook's skin shine, makes him beautiful. “Hyung you're killing me,” Jungkook says, before he reaches up to tug him down, kissing him again.

 

This kiss is different – soft still but a bit wet, lips lingering, Jungkook's tongue looking for his.

 

“Hyung,” he says, hands traveling down under the covers, brushing along Namjoon's spine and down the little of his back until he reaches his ass, shyly kneading the flesh. “Hyung I missed you. I really missed you,” he whispers, a bit needier now.

 

Namjoon lets himself be dragged closer, chests pressing together. He gets it, he missed Jungkook too.

 

“Now you're just horny,” he says, but he feels warm, and he wants this – wants Jungkook there, where everything is pretty and peaceful.

 

“I like it better when you're there,” Jungkook says in lieu of an answer.

 

Namjoon's hands twist in Jungkook's hair, tugging maybe a bit too harshly. “Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse. “Yeah,” and he whispers I love you in his head, lets the word die on the tip of his tongue when he kisses Jungkook again, because he doesn't want Jungkook to cry now but he wants to show him he's loved. The kisses are slow and deep and warm, tingles running down his spine as desire sets in. Jungkook is pretty and tempting, hands squeezing at his ass and boner poking his hips. He breathes in Jungkook's mouth and draws soft sighs from him, needy sounds that makes Namjoon kiss him deeper.

 

He feels it when Jungkook tips over, breath hitching when Namjoon pulls at his hair a bit too tight. Jungkook tenses up, and in the next moment he's flipping them around.

 

Namjoon finds himself on his back, Jungkook's phone digging into his spine. He doesn't have the time to search for it because Jungkook is diving down and kissing him, rumbling softly into his mouth, hands on his chest and hair falling into Namjoon's face. “Hyungie,” he says, voice breathy. “Missed you hyung, missed you.”

 

Namjoon knows, he feels it in the way Jungkook kisses, in the way he warms up so quickly in his hands, in the way he breathes and whines, half cut sounds that get swallowed in his mouth. Namjoon reacts to Jungkook easily, because Jungkook is pretty and hot and he feels good and he missed him, missed the way his waist feels small in his hands, the way his muscles contract under his touches, missed the way Jungkook wants him.

 

He kisses back with as much passion as Jungkook gives, reaching up to play with Jungkook's hair again and sliding a knee up between his legs. Jungkook humps against it at once, unable to help himself. Neither of them has brought anything and they're most likely just going to rub against each other. It's no use egging Jungkook like that and letting his thirst flare up, but he still finds himself longing for more, wants to feel Jungkook tremble above him, wants to be pushed around, wants someone's weight holding him down.

 

For now what he gets is Jungkook's hips stuttering over his knee and whiny breaths in his mouth, and that's enough.

 

“Missed you,” Jungkook repeats again, one more time. “Missed you hyung.”

 

Namjoon tightens his grip in Jungkook's hair, feels his cock chub up in his sleeping pants, feels desire surge in his veins. He opens his mouth to let Jungkook lick into it, lets him take his fill. He considers sliding a hand in Jungkook's pants when a voice that belongs to neither of them and that feels a bit static sounds from under him.

 

“-can't they're still pushing the-- oh it's on. Hewwo! You might want to turn that thing off, right now,” the voice says, cheerful and cold.

 

They both freeze and Namjoon is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a second. Jungkook doesn't blink and Namjoon scrambles, almost kicking the blankets off in his haste to reach for the bump in his back – what he thought to be a phone and that turns out to be a walkie talkie.

 

“Hobi,” he squeaks, pressing the button to speak. “Hoseok-ah? Fuck.” He turns it off fully before he can receive any kind of answer and throws the device as far away from him as possible, face red as Jin's very distinct laughter rings from another room, loud enough that he hears it without the walkie talkie.

 

“Oh my god,” Namjoon says, body shriveling up with mortification. “Oh my god.”

 

Jungkook is fully hiding his face in his hands, double hiding it against his side, triple hiding it under the blankets. They're both silent, hearts beating fast as they let the complete and utter embarrassment of having their friends hearing them make out set in. It's the worst.

 

“Hyung,” Jungkook croaks out, voice barely audible.

 

“I know,” Namjoon says, voice ghostly. “Let's sleep and forget.”

 

“I can hear them laughing when I close my eyes.”

 

“That's because they're still laughing.”

 

Namjoon closes his eyes, lets his heartbeat slow down and waits until the distant laughter has subsided. He vows to be virtuous and chaste and to never wander down the horny path on a schedule ever again.

 

A few minutes later Jungkook resurfaces from under the cover. He nudges until Namjoon opens his eyes to find him hovering above him, cheeks pink and hair all over the place.

 

“It stopped,” Jungkook mumbles, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. At least Namjoon deems it chaste until Jungkook moves to straddle him, and there's something hard digging into his belly.

 

“Wait-” he pulls back, surprised, and Jungkook looks even more embarrassed. “You're still hard?”

 

“Um-”

 

“Didn't the shame and embarrassment completely annihilate your desire to fornicate for the foreseeable future?”

 

“I,” Jungkook blinks and puffs his chest like he's steeling himself. “I really missed you?”

 

“Yes, I missed you too but the shame.”

 

“But I missed you,” Jungkook counters. “I really- really want to touch you. Want to feel you.”

 

Jungkook's ass rubs against his crotch but it's not enough to rekindle his arousal.

 

“I don't think I can get it up anymore,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook's face falls with disappointment. “But I--” he pushes gently on Jungkook's chest, makes him lay on his back so he can loom over him. “I can give you something, I think.” He pecks Jungkook's lips. “Come quick or I'll overheat.”

 

He catches the confused knit of Jungkook's brows before he dives under the covers, blindly shuffling down until he's laying between Jungkook's legs and feels the heat radiating from his crotch on his face.

 

“Oh,” he hears him say, voice strangled. Jungkook's legs part to let him settle more easily. “Hyung-”

 

Namjoon presses a kiss against the clothed bulge tenting Jungkook's pants and that shuts him up quickly.

 

It's a bit weird, because he can't see anything, blanket heavy on the back of his head, but he knows Jungkook's body better than his own and it's easy to find the helm of his pants to drag them down his ass. Jungkook's dick springs free and hits him in the chin and Namjoon startles. He hears Jungkook's breathless giggle above him. He lets it slide.

 

He reaches out to feel the shape of Jungkook's cock, until he finds the tip and guides it into his mouth, wasting no time before sucking it in.

 

Jungkook arches back and pulses on this tongue as he sucks idly on the bulbous head, bobbing his head up and down over the first few inches of his dick. It tastes clean but it's still salty, still not his favorite taste but the way Jungkook vibrates against him, hands twisting in the bedsheets by his hips, the way he breathes and barely moans – that's Namjoon's taste in and of itself.

 

He swipes his tongue over the slit, pokes at it until beads of precum pearl out. He licks down, lets it coat Jungkook's shaft so that when he takes him back into his mouth again, he's already wet and warm. His tongue swirls around the head, presses on the underside, makes Jungkook bucks up into his mouth – but Namjoon has a hand on the base of his cock and it can only go so far. He presses kisses on the tip of his cock when he draws back, before he lets his lips stretch over his girth again, lets it slide down his throat, lets himself get into it, sucking on those inches his palm doesn't cover. He makes it wet, and he's not necessarily good at it but Jungkook seems to enjoy it anyway. Jungkook puts his hands on the back of his head but he doesn't press down, only shakes a bit, muscles tensing when Namjoon lets his hard cock hit the back of his throat. Namjoon

 

He exhales through his nose, blinks down but all he sees is the dark. His mouth already feels full, lips stretched wide, but he doesn't know how much of Jungkook he actually managed to fit inside. He tries to relax, makes himself take another inch. Jungkook lets out a broken moan and Namjoon's throat spasms a bit around him but he doesn't gag.

 

He tastes precum again, feels Jungkook's hands twitch and feels the way he tries so hard not to buck up or press him down – not that Namjoon would let him, he does not like choking, but he appreciates that Jungkook tries so hard. He feels warm again, not quite enough to pop another boner but he thinks, when they're back in Korea, they'll go all the way and he'll watch Jungkook's face when he gets off this time.

 

He hollows his cheeks, tries his best to suck on the part of Jungkook's cock he's managed to fit inside his mouth, twisting and squeezing his hand around the base of his cock. He reaches down with his other hand to fondle Jungkook's ball, basks in the small whimpers it draws from him, the tremors that run through his legs. Jungkook reacts easily, keeping his voice down so all Namjoon hears are the small sounds that die in his throat.

 

He doesn't have any idea how much times passes, but he knows he's growing hot and sweaty under the thick blanket, knows his jaw aches. Jungkook never lasts long when he goes down on him, and he's been rendered more sensitive by the month they were apart, but it feels like an eternity, where it's only him and Jungkook's hands on his head and Jungkook twitching on his tongue and vibrating under him. It's all Jungkook, and the cocoon of warmth and darkness surrounding him.

 

“Hyungie,” he hears Jungkook's muffled voice, and if he closes his eyes he can see his face, sweaty brows drawn together, long hair sticking to his temples. “Hyung I'm- close, close.”

 

Namjoon can tell, because he jerks more, thighs tense where Namjoon has pressed them down to keep him from moving his hips. He tries to bob his head faster, tries to take a bit more in even if it triggers his gag reflex. He hears wet noises as he works on Jungkook's cock, swallowing as much of him as he can.

 

“Hyung!” Jungkook says a bit louder, legs kicking at his sides and body tensing and Namjoon feels the first spurts of semen on his palate. He keeps sucking on the head of his cock, makes his hand tighter and faster around the shaft.

 

He stays there as Jungkook pulses in his mouth, cum filling his cheeks. When Jungkook's hands drop away from his hair, his stomach dipping with heavy exhales, Namjoon lets his dick slide out with a wet sound. He keeps his mouth firmly closed, cheeks puffed as he tucks Jungkook back into his pants.

 

It's only when he crawls up his body and feels the cold air hits his skin that Namjoon notices how hot he feels, how his shirt clings to his back with sweat.

 

Jungkook's eyes are half-closed, pale skin shining with sweat and lips parted, and Namjoon seizes that chance, ducking down to press their mouths together. He opens his lips and spits Jungkook's cum out. Jungkook gives a startled moan but he keeps his mouth open as Namjoon pushes it all out, semen mixed with an excess of saliva that make them both drool. He makes sure there's none left and it's all far back enough in Jungkooks throat that he has no choice but to swallow every last drops of cum he gives him, moaning wantonly against him. And then he kisses him, tongues lapping against one another until there's no longer the bitter taste of cum on his tongue, until all he can taste is Jungkook, and nothing else.

 

When he pulls back he's breathing heavily, and Jungkook's eyes are wide open.

 

“Hot,” he says. “That was hot.”

 

Namjoon flops over, pulls the cover down so the fresh night air can cool him down a bit.

 

“Not as hot as if you'd swallowed but still, hot,” Jungkook continues.

 

“Make semen taste good and we'll see.”

 

“Semen tastes good,” Jungkook says, turning his head to smile at him, white teeth stark and bright in the night. He snuggles into his side even though Namjoon groans and complains because he's hot. “It tastes like love.”

 

“You're being a brat now but you're not going to be able to look anyone in the eyes tomorrow,” Namjoon reminds him, and Jungkook's smile drops but his eyes are still mirthful.

 

“Jokes on you, I'll wake up later than you so you'll bear the worst of it.”

 

Namjoon frowns at the ceiling. “Is that what I get for putting your dick in my mouth?”

 

Jungkook smothers his face in the crook of his neck, throwing a leg over his middle. “Thanks for putting my dick in your mouth and getting up early tomorrow to spare me the embarrassment of Jin laughing at me,” and in a smaller, squeakier voice he adds, “I missed you.”

 

Don't act cute on me now,” Namjoon protests but he already lost.

 

It's alright though, because Jungkook has a smile on his face as he falls asleep and Namjoon sleeps in his lover's arms for the first time in a month. He'll do anything, if it makes Jungkook happy.

 

(except swallow, that is)