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“Hey, hyung,” Taehyung greets as Yoongi slides into the passenger seat next to him, sending a woosh of crispy cold air into the car. “Excited?”
“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to spend two weeks with six guys in a two-bedroom cabin in some random snowy mountain from hell,” Yoongi drawls in his usual lazy, raspy voice that sends something heavy down Taehyung’s throat. “Why stay at the comfort of my own home, with connections to the real world, when I can just die in the middle of nowhere?”
Taehyung snorts, pulling the car out of the parking spot. The early December sun is gentle on his eyes, peeking shyly from under greying clouds, and Taehyung casually wonders if the weather will keep stable like this during the day.
“So bitter, hyung,” he says as a reply, turning on the radio. A soft, classical jazz tune fills the car as Yoongi shrugs, already reaching for the AUX cord. “Who says we’re gonna die?”
Yoongi grabs his own phone, looking through his extensive music library. Taehyung sneaks some glances, seeing so many artists he’s never even heard about while Yoongi has their whole discography saved. He thinks about his own very well-crafted collection of pop songs by girl groups with love.
“The minute Jungkook finds out the cabin doesn’t have wi-fi he’s going to throw all of us to the wolves.”
Taehyung huffs out a laugh, fingers tapping idly on the steering wheel.
“I think going slowly crazy and then suffocating everyone while we sleep fits Kookie’s style more. You know, the Shining type of shit.”
Yoongi snorts and picks some hip-hop playlist from the late 90’s - early 00’s, full of American artists that mix rapping with sultry R&B that are just a tad too dirty for a car ride in the middle of the afternoon, bordering on the flirty atmosphere that Yoongi seems to appreciate, from what Taehyung has gathered about him in the last couple of months they’ve been going out in the same group of friends. The playlist is mainly filled with rappers unknown by Taehyung, forgotten by the sands of time, but not by Yoongi. Yoongi remembers every musician he’s come across and deems worthy, finely tuned with music and what he considers good. It makes Taehyung twitchy.
Yoongi’s general existence makes him twitchy.
“Jimin is calling you.” Yoongi announces, pointing at Taehyung’s phone on the partition between their seats. Taehyung gives it a glance.
“He’s probably wanting to check on us. Can you pick him up, please?”
Yoongi agrees with a hum and answers the ringing phone. If he minds the dramatic opera high note Taehyung had set up as Jimin’s ringtone, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Hi, Park Jimin,” he greets. “Hm? He’s driving right now. What? No, he’s driving,” A pause. Taehyung hides a grin in the palm of his hand. “Okay, okay, Jesus, how fucking clingy can you get…”
Yoongi lowers the phone and taps on the speaker mode, Jimin’s voice blasting through the car a second later.
“Hi, Taehyungie!” Jimin greets excitedly. Taehyung smiles wider, his friend’s infectious joy impossible to ignore. He misses him. “Did you guys leave already? I miss you.”
“You saw him yesterday,” Yoongi interjects flatly.
“Be quiet, hyung, this isn’t about you,” Jimin snaps back. Yoongi gets an affronted look on his face and Taehyung decides to intervene before they get invested into their bickering back-and-forth that could last hours.
“I’ve just picked hyung up, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung says. “We’re gonna stop at a gas station and then we’re off. Did you arrive well?”
“Yeah, super well,” Jimin snickers, his sly smirk flashing in Taehyung’s mind. “Hoseok hyung threw up.”
Taehyung hears a distinctive shriek on Jimin’s side, a following curse and what sounds like people pushing each other. He exchanges a glance with Yoongi, his amused and the older man’s just tired.
“As I was saying ”, Jimin continues, huffing a little. “We just arrived like fifteen minutes ago. The cabin is so nice, Tae, so pretty, and you’ve got to see the mountains, they’re the best part. I can’t wait for you to get here so we can take some pictures.”
“I’m pumped,” Taehyung says honestly. “Seriously, I’m bringing like three rolls of film, the photos are gonna look fantastic.”
“I can’t wait to see you either, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi interrupts drily. Taehyung and Jimin giggle in unison.
“Yah, hyung, don’t be like that. I want you here too, obviously.”
“Do you, now?”
“Of course,” Jimin says, deceptively sweet. “Who else is gonna help Jin hyung in the kitchen?”
“I hope you all starve.” Yoongi replies emphatically. Taehyung laughs harder, stopping by a traffic light and taking the phone out of his hand.
“Leave him alone, Jimin,” he says, enjoying Yoongi’s flat stare way too much. “I think we’ll be on the road for two and a half, maybe three hours depending on traffic. We’ll keep you updated.”
“Please, do,” Jimin pauses. Taehyung’s soulmate senses start tingling, and he had learned a long time ago to never ignore his soulmate senses, especially if they’re warning DANGER DANGER DANGER in his head. He barely has time to open his mouth when Jimin continues, voice now teasing and insinuating. “So, you and Yoongi hyung all alone for three hours, huh?”
Yoongi raises his brows, questioning, while Taehyung feels a part of his soul dying. He keeps his face perfectly neutral as Jimin cackles, the little snake. Taehyung’s gonna shove snow down his pants.
“We’re hanging up now,” Taehyung says, voice calm and controlled. Keeping it together amazingly, if he says so himself. “Bye, Jimin.”
“Bye bye! We’re waiting! Don’t be late.”
“Wait,” Yoongi interrupts, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. “Is Jungkook around?”
“Oh, Kookie? Yeah, he’s dragging our things inside. Hey, Kookie! Yoongi hyung wants to talk to you.”
Taehyung sends him a sideways glance, still too embarrassed to look straight at his face. Yoongi just waits patiently until Jungkook comes to the phone.
“Hi, hyung.” his voice chirps through. Taehyung smiles again, embarrassment slowly dissipating. Jungkook is adorable.
“Hi, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi is smiling softly at the phone. Taehyung’s stomach pulls, the sight too much for him, and he’s grateful for the moving traffic. “Are you liking the cabin?”
“Yeah, it’s dope,” Jungkook answers excitedly. “The rooms are big too, there’s just a bed missing but I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
“It’s too cold for that,” Taehyung pipes in, frowning. “We can share a bed, Kookie, don’t worry.”
“Okay!” the other boy agrees happily. Jimin’s voice comes up again - “Hurry up, both of you.”
“We’re coming,” Yoongi says. Then, he smirks, a curl of his lips that makes Taehyung’s hair at the back of his neck stand up in the most delicious way. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it already, Kook-ah. I was scared that you wouldn’t like it since there’s no internet.”
Taehyung can feel the tension crackle through the speaker. He pursues his lips to keep from laughing.
“What?” Jungkook says, tone completely changed. Taehyung pities him a little, thinking about him packing all of his gamer stuff, excited to spend winter break glued to the laptop screen. He had been so excited too. Poor boy. They should buy him an apology fruit basket on the way.
“Yeah, there’s no wi-fi,” Yoongi continues without a care in the world, completely ignoring Jimin’s distressed noise. “I thought Jiminie warned you? Anyways, we have to get going. See you in a few hours!”
“Min Yoongi, you mother -,” Yoongi hangs up before Jimin can finish. Taehyung finally laughs, loud in contrast to Yoongi’s quiet snickers.
“You’re evil.” he says. The older man meets his eyes on the rearview mirror.
“The brat deserved it,” he answers. Taehyung bites back a smile, warm at the thought that Yoongi had done it in revenge to Jimin making him embarrassed. “Are you complaining?”
“No,” Taehyung grins. “I love it.”
Their eyes meet again, and Taehyung quickly looks away. He can’t handle Yoongi’s dark gaze, the heaviness in his eyes that leave him lightheaded.
They had first met a few months ago, in some kinda trying-too-hard-to-be-cool Itaewon pub that Taehyung liked to go to because the drinks were cheap and the people were fun, only looking for an uncomplicated good time. In that particular weekend, Jimin had told him, jumping from excitement, that their Hoseok hyung had invited some of his friends they still hadn’t met to go out with them. A Namjoon and a Yoongi, older guys that were also friends with Seokjin, Jimin and Hoseok’s roommate.
Taehyung remembers vividly what he was wearing. A dark wine colored faux-silk shirt, soft sandals and black skinny jeans that were slightly stretched after being borrowed by Jungkook and his thighs. Taehyung even remembers putting on his ear jewelry, having to re-pierce through his third hole with Jimin’s dangly earring that honestly could be used as a minor weapon. They had left Jimin’s apartment in a group of five, Hoseok distractedly telling them that Namjoon and Yoongi would be waiting for them at the pub.
Now, Taehyung prides himself in being flexible regarding social situations. He knows he’s nice and fun and he’s never too nervous about meeting new people because they usually really like him. Taehyung is a likable guy, what can he do? So he wasn’t worried about meeting Hoseok’s friends, unlike Jungkook, because he thought he was ready to charm their pants off and have two shiny new contacts on his phone by the end of the night.
He wasn’t ready for Min Yoongi.
Oh, he definitely wasn’t ready for Min Yoongi.
Min Yoongi, who partially hid behind Namjoon when he first saw them, who said hi to Taehyung in a soft voice and took his hand in a firm grip. Small, cute Min Yoongi, with a button nose and round cheeks and cat eyes. Min Yoongi, who said “I’m a music producer” and listened with all the patience in the world to Jungkook's hesitant questions, slowly bringing the younger boy out of his shell while being quite shy himself. He was fascinating, so sweet-looking under all those layers of dark leather and ear piercings, and Taehyung wasn’t ready.
Taehyung, seated between Jimin and Namjoon, a super nice post-grad student who talked like poetry and had adorable dimples, couldn’t quite focus on the conversation around him. He could only stare at Yoongi’s hands, surprisingly manly, wrapped around a condensating glass, long fingers elegant and calloused. Yoongi said he played the piano. Thinking about Yoongi playing the instrument, sliding those beautiful fingers across the keys, made something hot coil around Taehyung’s throat. Taehyung wanted those fingers on him the moment he saw them.
“It was normal.” he says, later that night, to Jimin and Jungkook between matches of Mario Kart. Yoongi is cute. He’s just a little attracted, and honestly who wouldn’t be?
“And you, Taehyung-ssi?” Namjoon had asked, bursting his little bubble.
“What?”
“What do you do?” Namjoon said again, kind. He had really beautiful eyes, Taehyung had thought.
Not as beautiful as Min Yoongi , a voice whispered in his head, but he ignored it.
“Oh, I’m an artist. Kinda.” Taehyung was never shy about his major, but Yoongi’s narrow eyes were on him and he felt weird. “I’m a film major, but I also take photos here and there.” he admitted with a small smile.
“He’s being humble,” Seokjin complained, stealing Taehyung’s glass and refilling it with flavored soju. “Taehyung-ah is great, he’s got studios lining up to snatch him after he graduates.”
“Only two.” Taehyung had mumbled. Jimin punched his arm.
“Shut up, your films are awesome,” then he grabbed Taehyung’s face and planted a big wet kiss on his cheek, making the other laugh and push him away. “My rockstar.” Jimin had crooned, drunklingly petting his methodically-done hair. Taehyung had let him.
“I’d love to see your photos sometime.” Yoongi said quietly, almost drowned out by Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s laughter.
Taehyung had felt a warm rush then, his desire slowly setting back a little to make way for fondness. Yoongi, talented Yoongi, wanted to see his photos, the photos he took mostly for himself instead of a portfolio. And he wanted to show him, wanted to sit down with him and explain all the angles, the filters, the world through his lenses. He had a feeling that Yoongi would listen attentively, would ask questions and keep everything Taehyung wanted to share close to his heart. He seemed like the type.
Taehyung had smiled too, this time bigger and brighter.
“Anytime.”
Every time Taehyung remembers the night, a hot weight settles in his belly, the memory of Yoongi’s slanted eyes burning his dreams for weeks after that. Days later, he had shown Yoongi some of his most recent work, but instead of paying attention to Yoongi’s critique, he could only stare at his pretty doll lips, and the way they warped around the words, pushing out into pouts and arches that made Taehyung want to kiss them stupid.
A few weeks after hanging out in groups and together, in a drunken haze, Hoseok had piled everyone together and pitched a holiday to Pyeongchang, claiming his parents knew someone who could rent their cabin for them during the winter break. Jimin jumped at the news and, after much yelling, convincing and a stressed-out Yoongi organizing the logistics of the thing, it was set.
It’s their first trip as a proper group, and Taehyung’s excited, but the man seated next to him makes him a little scared, too. Afraid of embarrassing himself too much in front of him or saying something he shouldn’t.
He scolds himself, trying to rationalize that crushes are completely normal and he’s got to chill before Yoongi gets weirded out and shoves him out of a moving vehicle.
They drive out of Seoul in relative silence, with Yoongi sometimes humming to the songs playing on the radio. There’s a light fog coming up, remnants of the morning dewiness, but it’s not strong enough to block their sight. Taehyung taps his fingers against the steering wheel, fiddles with his sunglasses, whistles, bites his lip. He wonders if being unable to sit still is annoying Yoongi, but the other man seems calm as ever, looking out the window while they pass the urban streets. Taehyung notices he also taps in rhythm with the music, pale fingers moving against his leg.
When they stop for gas, Yoongi turns to him.
“I’m going to the little CVC over there,” he says, pointing at the store adjourned to the station. “Want something?”
“Oh,” Taehyung grabs his wallet, opening it and fishing for his card. “Strawberry juice would be great, thanks.”
He tries to give Yoongi his card, but the other man just huffs in dismissal and gets out of the car, swiftly power-walking to the store as if he’s afraid of Taehyung trying to force him into taking it. Taehyung bites his lip and quickly sends a text to Jimin.
Taehyung
ik u cant read this
while being beat up by jk or wtv
but thisisTORTURE
im NEVER
listening to u guys ever again
ok thats it byeee
love u see u soon hope ur having fun
Taehyung pockets his phone and shakes his head, messy blonde hair falling over his eyes. While pumping, he watches Yoongi’s short frame walk inside the store, bumbling around shelves, and daydreams a little about the two of them being a traveling couple, with Yoongi going all over the world to find inspiration for his music and Taehyung following with his camera, capturing the most beautiful sights.
“Aish, Taehyung,” he thinks to himself while paying, shivering from the cold. “You’re worse than a teenager.”
A wet drop falls on his nose and he looks up, frowning. “Huh.” Taehyung muses. The sky is darkening up quicker than he’d like, clouds heavy and looming across the blue plane. They better hit the road soon.
When Yoongi comes back, he gives Taehyung his juice and a packet of cherry flavored gum. Taehyung raises a brow questionably at the candy, and Yoongi shrugs.
“You seem like the type.” He explains, casually drinking his own coffee, but Taehyung catches the way the older man seems to evade his eyes, not looking in his direction at all. He smirks. “So, how much do I owe you?”
Taehyung dismisses him, revving up the car.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, circling Yoongi’s seat with his arm to properly back out of their parking spot. Yoongi makes an affronted noise, and Taehyung just laughs. “Seriously, hyung, don’t worry about it. You paid for my juice, now we’re even.”
“Stop being ridiculous,” Yoongi complains. He eyes Taehyung suspiciously. “Why are you taking care of me? I’m the hyung, did you forget?”
Taehyung just gives him his most dazzling smile, full of white teeth and crinkled eyes, obnoxiously chewing his gum.
“You bought me gum,” he says, winking. “I swooned.”
“Ah, shut up and drive.” Yoongi grumbles without any real bite, turning his shoulder to the younger man and ducking his head.
Taehyung thinks that Yoongi’s rosy cheeks are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
In a like, totally chill way. Nothing more than a silly crush.
“Was work good?” He tries to make conversation, and immediately cringes. What the fuck is he, Yoongi’s housewife?
But the other man doesn’t seem to mind.
“Was normal,” he drawls, scrolling through his phone again. The hip-hop song changes to something more pop, and Taehyung’s fingers itch to put some Red Velvet on. “We’re working on a commercial jingle right now, and it’s easy. Kinda generic, you know? Not much to do besides the formula, not much creative control, but it pays well, so what can you do.”
“I bet it you’ll make it sound amazing.” Taehyung says, earnest and honest.
Jungkook had dragged Taehyung to Yoongi and Namjoon’s studio, too shy to go over there by himself even though both of the hyungs had invited him. After listening to Yoongi’s more personal work, some tracks and demos on his portfolio as a producer, songs he made out of boredom and for fun, he’s got no doubt in his head regarding the other man’s talent. Yoongi’s fingers are golden, and everything he touches turns into art, even some random sounds Jungkook played on his phone. It’s a trait Taehyung both envies and admires, being a kind-of-an-artist himself.
Later, alone in his room, Taehyung had searched for Yoongi’s released music and downloaded it, making a secret file to keep it hidden on his phone. He wasn’t trying to be sneaky with it; he was just too embarrassed to tell the others that he listened to Yoongi’s raw vocals everyday, constantly, like an obsessed creep. Jimin already has too much ammunition to blackmail him with.
“Thank you, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi answers softly. He always got a little shy and quiet when complimented, Taehyung had noticed. “I’m just glad to go away for some time. Working with something you love can be exhausting.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung breathes. “My project before break left me completely drained, I can’t even look at a film camera without wanting to throw up.”
He had delivered his final film for the semester earlier that morning, in a complete sleep-deprived daze, after hours and hours slaving over his editing software, obsessively reviewing every single frame until he couldn’t watch his own movie anymore. He had thrusted the drive in his professor’s hand and left immediately, going back to his apartment and falling back in bed while Jungkook was getting ready to go to Pyeongchang in another car with the hyungs.
Yoongi also had work that morning. That’s why he’s now traveling with Taehyung, just the two of them, completely unaware of the other man’s existential crisis over the way he drinks coffee. His lips wrapped around the bottle, eyes closed, beautiful pale throat tensing as he swallowed…
Taehyung is going through a lot.
However, fifty minutes into their trip, Taehyung is starting to get worked up for other reasons. The sky is now dark, clouds completely covering the sun, weak rays barely reaching down to touch the humid asphalt. The fog thickened up, covering the highway, so Taehyung can’t see much far ahead. A light rain picked up, battering on their windshield, slightly muffling the music, and Taehyung worriedly glances at his watch every few minutes. As the minutes go by, the weather seems to get worse, the rain getting thicker and thicker, the wind blowing harshly at the sides of the car. It might even snow, and Taehyung didn’t sign up to die in a car crash and take the man of his dreams with him. Even if bleeding out in the snow together sounds romantic as fuck.
“Hyung…” Taehyung starts, chewing his bottom lip. The rain is now battered so heavy against the glass it’s fogged up, adding up to Taehyung’s anxiety.
“Already on it,” Yoongi says, nose deep in his phone. “There’s a highway motel seven kilometers from where we are, if you turn left. Goddamn, I don’t think we’re gonna make it today.”
“What?” Taehyung squeaks out. It started to snow, and the wind isn’t helping the situation, spreading the flakes so they stick onto the glass.
“Make it to Pyeongchang,” Yoongi amends. Then, he grips Taehyung’s leg, palm warm over his thigh. Taehyung almost crashes the car. “Don’t worry, Taehyung-ah, we’ll spend the night at the motel if the weather gets too bad.”
“I think it already is.” He says distractly. Yoongi seriously needs to remove his hand or there’s going to be an accident. Taehyung can’t focus with his hand splayed out like that, heavily cupping his thigh.
Finally, he does remove it, after giving his thigh a little squeeze. Taehyung’s breath hitches and he prays that the rain is strong enough to mask his embarrassing noise.
Get it together. Chill. Just a crush.
“Do you still have signal?” He asks to distract himself.
“Yeah, barely. The data is shit.”
“Could you try to warn Jimin or the other hyungs? They’ll worry if we don’t.”
“I sent them a text, but I don’t think it’ll go through. We’ll call them when we stop.”
After Taehyung takes way too long to cross the seven kilometers, driving more carefully than he did to get his driver’s license, they blessedly arrive at a little roadside motel, almost hidden behind the constantly growing snow piles. Taehyung checks the time and frowns when he sees that it’s barely four p.m. The sky is completely dark now, the grey clouds sending down rain so violent that the droplets hitting the car almost sound like gunshots. The snow mixes with water, making sharp little pieces of ice fall onto the ground, so Taehyung has to park the car in the small covered parking lot, which the fee for could pay his meals for a week straight. The motel is an out-of-focus light between the dark, the apartments neatly built around a main reception, most of them already occupied, from what Taehyung can gather.
They stay in the car for a few minutes, working up the courage to get out in the whipping rain.
“I hate traveling,” Yoongi says flatly. Taehyung snorts. “Hoseok fucking owns me for making me do this.”
“C’mon, you grandpa,” Taehyung gives Yoongi his wallet. “Go over there and book us rooms, please. I’m gonna get some of our luggage.”
“There you go, taking care of me again.” Yoongi complains, zipping up his coat.
“I’m just respecting my elder.” Taehyung snickers. Before Yoongi can respond, he quickly gets out of the car, immediately freezing under the harsh weather.
A half-blind Taehyung grabs for his bag and hauls ass in the vague direction of the reception, almost slipping several times on the frozen ground. His sunglasses fly away with the wind and he curses, pausing in the middle of the storm to consider searching for them, bag tucked protectively against his chest. They were expensive, he whines in his head, and super old too. They deserve better.
A roaring thunder shocks him out of his musing and, with a last forlorn glance, he continues his way and opens the door of the reception.
A heatwave greets him and Taehyung stops, breathing deep into the stale recycled air coming out of the heaters. He’d never smelt something so sweet. There’s a sign in English on the wall; the place probably more for tourists who need to rest between exploring the country.
Yoongi is waiting for him at the front desk, shivering under his wet clothes. Taehyung rushes to him, guilty for wasting time outside.
“Hi,” he says to the grumpy-looking older man.
“Took you long enough.” Yoongi nags. Taehyung pursues his lips, and the older man’s eyes sharpen. “What?”
“Nothing.” he’s not about to say to a pissed Yoongi that he looks like a drowned cat. Yoongi’s not intimidating at all. In fact, he’s quite cute, hair plastered against his frowning forehead. “So? Did you get us rooms?”
“Yes, but they were almost completely booked, with the storm, so I only managed to get one.” Yoongi shows him a key. “We’ll have to share.”
“Oh.” Taehyung blinks.
Yoongi arches a brow.
“Is that a problem?”
“Oh, no! Not at all, of course no.” Taehyung turns around to hide his blushing face. He gestures vaguely to the hallway. “Lead the way, captain.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, but Taehyung thinks he sees a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
On the way to their room, Taehyung tries to calm himself down. He’s embarrassed to be so excited about sharing a room with Yoongi, but just the thought of the older man sleeping in the same space as him has him giddy. Soft, sleepy Yoongi, all pouty and pliant, hair messy and his grave voice even lower…
“We’re here.” Yoongi announces. Taehyung snaps out of his daydreams and they enter the room.
Taehyung expects two single beds, maybe even two doubles, which is highly unlikely for a cheap room in a roadside motel. But there’s only a double bed in the room.
One double bed, staring almost tauntingly at him. A bed that he has to share with Yoongi. The two of them, sleeping together on the same bed. As in, bodies sleeping side by side. On the same bed. Yoongi and him, under the blankets, sharing a bed.
The older man walks into the room, taking his shoes and wet socks off. He completely ignores Taehyung, dripping by the door.
The bed is mocking him, Taehyung is sure. He glares at it, offended that a piece of furniture could look so smug.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” Yoongi announces, getting up and coming to stand in front of Taehyung.
“Uh, okay.” when the older man just keeps staring at him, Taehyung blanches. “Do you want me to join or…”
“The bag, Taehyung,” Yoongi interrupts, his ears a sharp red. “Clothes. I need them.”
“Yes! Of course, clothes,” Taehyung shoves the bag in Yoongi’s arms. “Sure, shower, clean clothes. Go ahead, I’ll be waiting here.”
Yoongi gives him an odd look and makes his way to the small adjacent bathroom, closing the door behind him. Taehyung sighs, raking a hand through his hair, fingers getting tangled on the damp knots.
He grimaces, realizing he’s soaked to the bone, still wearing the wet clothes that are now hard and incredibly uncomfortable against his skin, his overcoat practically frozen solid. Taehyung takes them all off, throwing them on the corner and standing in his surprisingly dry underwear in the middle of the room. The small heater beside the bed fills the tiny room with heat, but it’s not enough to stop his teeth from chattering. Outside, the storm rages on, gusts of wind spreading the snow so far that it’s almost impossible for Taehyung to make out the scenery from the tiny window. He closes the curtains, shuddering.
His phone starts ringing from the pile of frozen clothes. Taehyung curses, crouching down and fishing it, seeing Namjoon’s name on the screen. He smiles.
“Hello!” he answers, chipper.
“Hm,” Namjoon says, taken back. “Taehyung-ah?”
“The one and only,” Taehyung sits down on the bed, trying to pull the covers out. “What’s up?”
“Uh, Yoongi said there’s a storm?” Namjoon’s voice is crackling over the line, unstable. “We just got his text, I think your signal is really bad.”
“Yeah, I can’t hear you right,” Taehyung pouts. “But it’s okay! We stopped at a motel for the night.”
“What? Taehyung-ah, I can’t hear you, there’s too much noise.”
Taehyung takes the phone out of his ear and shouts into the receiver.
“We’re okay! We’ll sleep at a motel tonight!”
The message seems to get across, because Namjoon sighs.
“Good, that’s good,” he says, or Taehyung thinks he does. It’s so garbled that he’s just guessing whatever the hell Namjoon is saying from the noises he can make out. “Where’s Yoongi?”
“In the shower!” Namjoon says something, but it’s chopped. Taehyung frowns. “Hyung, I can’t understand you.”
“Jimin is -” more crackling. “ - he wants - you and Yoongi, kissing?”
Taehyung reddens. Damn Jimin and his big mouth.
“It’s nothing.” he tries to say, but Namjoon talks over him.
“I’m gonna go,” Namjoon manages between the static. “Tell Yoongi -”
“What?”
“Aish,” Taehyung thinks he can hear a curse but isn’t sure. “Be safe! - night - you tomorrow.”
“Yes, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Taehyung agrees. “Bye, hyung, I love you!"
“Bye, Taehyung-ah.”
Namjoon hangs up and Taehyung makes a sad noise. He misses him already.
Growing bored of just standing around while Yoongi is in the shower, Taehyung finally wrestles the covers from their tucked corners and slips under them. He snuggles up closer to the heater, humming contently. He closes his eyes, letting the rain noise lull him into a comfortable almost-nap, too out of it to be totally awake but still somewhat aware of his surroundings.
After a few minutes, the bed dips and Taehyung feels fingers lightly touching his hair. He whines, turning his head to chase the touch.
“Poor guy,” comes Yoongi’s low voice, his fingers now confidently running over Taehyung’s hair, gently pulling the knots apart, massaging his scalp. “You’re so cold, aren’t you? And I left you all alone.”
“Such a bad hyung.” Taehyung murmurs, opening his eyes. Yoongi is looking down at him, pale skin flushed pink from the shower, his mouth quirking up on the corner. Taehyung sits up, letting the covers pool on his lap. He notices Yoongi’s eyes trailing down his chest, the older man’s fingers twitching like he wants to reach out.
Maybe it’s the sleepiness, or the quiet atmosphere, or Yoongi’s clear intentions, but Taehyung feels brave. Like maybe they’re on the same page.
“You’re wearing my shirt.” he comments, hand coming to play with the hem of Yoongi ‘s shirt. Is one of his pajama ones, big and old and comfortable.
“I think you grabbed an overnight bag.” Yoongi wraps his own fingers around Taehyung’s, dark eyes focused on the younger man. “You don’t like it?”
“You look nice.” Taehyung breathes, which is the understatement of the century. Yoongi looks beautiful, damp hair curling around his ears and giving him an angelic look that completely contradicts the low flames burning behind his irises. The shirt is large on him, with the loose collar falling off one shoulder and exhibiting his collarbones, small and delicate. When the older man brings his legs to sit properly on the bed, his thighs show under the shirt, white skin stretching against thin muscle that drivesTaehyung crazy. He wants to grab those thighs, bite down on them until they’re littered with little purple galaxies he can proudly call his.
Maybe his crush is getting out of control, but, under the soft light of the bedside lamp, he just doesn’t care.
“Just nice?” Yoongi tips his head to the side, making the shirt slip even more down one bony shoulder. He sounds too intense for such a simple question, but Taehyung likes it. He wants to store Yoongi’s low voice, dripping like honey, in a box and keep it with him.
It feels as if they’re walking on thin ice, with every step they take the chance to crack the ice and fall comes closer. But Taehyung craves it. Taehyung aches for the fall; he wants to drown in the icy water beneath it, wants it to fill his nose and mouth until he can’t think about anything other than the man in front of him.
“You look gorgeous,” Taehyung comes closer, breath fanning against Yoongi’s lips. He looks down as Yoongi licks them, pink tongue swiping from side to side. His heart hammers inside his chest. When Yoongi doesn’t lean away, Taehyung continues. “You always look gorgeous, hyung. You’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
It’s quiet between them, the air heavy. Taehyung watches as Yoongi’s chest rises and falls with every breath, sounding so loud in his ears. The older man closes his eyes, pursing his lips.
“God,” he says, then huffs out a laugh, a husky thing that makes the hair on the back of Taehyung’s neck stand up. “You’re something else.”
Taehyung laughs as well, breathless even though they’re sitting down. He comes even closer, encouraged by Yoongi’s small smile.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispers in the space between their mouths. “Ever since that first night, you know? Can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Shut up ,” Yoongi growls, then grabs Taehyung by the neck and presses their lips together.
Taehyung immediately wraps his arms around the smaller man’s waist, fitting his warm body against his cold skin. He grins under Yoongi’s lips and closes his eyes, mouth opening softly into the kiss. His heart beats wildly, every thump reminding him that he’s kissing Yoongi , that beautiful, gorgeous, talented Yoongi likes him enough to kiss him in some cheap motel room at four fifty in the afternoon.
Yoongi’s lips are soft and unbelievably shy, which Taehyung finds adorable. He lets the older man guide them in a slow rhythm that’s almost lazy, every push and pull melting Taehyung into putty in his hands. There’s some hesitancy in Yoongi’s touch, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, and Taehyung is so endeared he can’t help but lightly bite on Yoongi’s plush lower lip, dragging it out and letting it fall back into place a little redder than before.
The older man sighs, fitting his hand firmly on Taehyung’s neck, mouth opening pliantly beneath him. Taehyung carefully deepens their kiss, bringing their tongues together in a leisure pace so as to not scare Yoongi, but the other man follows his lead, exploring Taehyung’s mouth in earnest. Yoongi tangles his fingers in Taehyung’s hair, pressing them even closer together, almost climbing his way into Taehyung’s lap just to feel him more, kiss him deeper.
Taehyung is in absolute heaven. Yoongi’s tongue, hot and wet, is blazing against his, picking up the pace and leaving him breathless in the most delicious way. The pneumonia he’s pretty sure he caught back in the rain is almost worth it for having Yoongi like this, kissing him senseless, kissing him stupid.
“You’re so beautiful it’s insane,” Yoongi mumbles, dragging his tongue across Taehyung’s lips, mapping their arc, capturing his upper bow into a too-gentle kiss. Taehyung doesn’t mind. “Couldn’t believe you were real, walking into the bar that night, wanted you right there.”
Taehyung shivers, slipping his hands underneath Yoongi’s (his) shirt. He holds Yoongi by the waist and pulls him fully into his lap, arching his neck to reach his mouth. He kisses the older man’s pink lips, once, twice, obsessed with how they feel, so warm and perfect, as if they were molded just to be kissed by him.
“You smell like dirt water.” Yoongi breathes out as Taehyung kisses the corner of his mouth. Taehyung leans away, lifting his eyebrow.
“You want to stop?” he asks, removing his hands from Yoongi’s back.
“Fuck, no.” Yoongi growls before pressing their mouths together again. His previous hesitancy is completely gone, confidently bringing Taehyung’s hands back into their place underneath the shirt. Taehyung’s fingers hug his ribcage, digging hard on the skin beneath his fingertips. Yoongi ruts forward, mouth opening to receive Taehyung’s kiss, eager, and Taehyung can feel himself starting to harden under the older man’s weight. Their kisses turn messier, spit gathering on Taehyung’s lips as Yoong licks into his mouth, finesse thrown out of the window in favor of something much more carnal.
Taehyung pulls away, breathless, and starts to make a pathway of kisses from Yoongi’s mouth to his neck, fitting his pulsepoint between his teeth and biting down. Yoongi keens, squirming on his lap, rutting against Taehyung’s thigh. Encouraged, Taehyung licks over the teeth marks and sucks, worrying the skin between his lips.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s hair, pulling. The pain is sharp, but Taehyung enjoys it, moving his mouth to Yoongi’s jawline and biting again. “Yeah, just like that.”
Taehyung hides his smile on Yoongi’s neck, kissing down on the column of his throat, the beautiful pale skin receiving bruises that bloom into reds and purples. When Taehyung licks his collarbones, Yoongi claws at his back, his blunt nails forcefully making their way under the skin. Taehyung shivers, moving his own hands to Yoongi’s soft ass, making Yoongi let out a surprised noise, gripping the flesh and pulling him impossibly closer, breaths mingling together. Taehyung licks his collarbones, tongue tracing their dips, biting into the bone. He’s not cold anymore, the heat from Yoongi’s body being enough to keep him warm.
“So good for me,” Yoongi praises in a murmur, rocking down on Taehyung’s crotch. Their hard-ons rub together and Taehyung sighs, lifting his head from Yoongi’s collarbones to kiss his mouth again. “So, so beautiful,” Yoongi says between slow kisses, hands exploring Taehyung’s back, leaving goosebumps on their trail. “Want you so much.”
“Me too.” Taehyung answers, fingers making their way up on Yoongi’s body. He grazes them on Yoongi’s stomach, little whispers of touch that make the older man tremble, thumbs gently stroking his ribcage. It all feels a little too lovey-dovey, Taehyung thinks as Yoongi kisses his ear, tongue wickedly playing with his lobe. But he’s not complaining.
Yoongi rocks again, this time managing to fit his erection perfectly against Taehyung’s, and they both groan from the friction. Taehyung bunches the older man’s shirt on his hand, making the fabric rise until his thighs are exposed, creamy and unblemished. Yoongi keeps his movements in tight little circles, working them up, rocking down and pressing their cocks together in a tantalizing rhythm that it’s too good to be true and not enough at the same time. His pace is slow, as if he wants to drag things out, but Taehyung is a little too desperate to play his part.
Taehyung’s hands come up to the other man’s chest, bringing goosebumps that make Yoongi slip from his rhythm, stilling in the younger man’s lap. Taehyung presses his fingers down one perky nipple, massaging it and feeling the nub harden under his touch. Yoongi mewls , leaning forward to kiss Taehyung’s shoulder as the younger man rubs his nipples, working him up to a panting mess. He bites Taehyung’s shoulder, teeth sinking down painfully as Taehyung pinches and pulls, scratching his nail against the pink rim.
“Take it off.” Taehyung complains, hand snagging on the shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathless laughter and leans away from Taehyung’s touch, looking down at him with fondness.
“So pouty,” Yoongi teases, dragging a finger down Taehyung’s fat bottom lip. Taehyung lets his tongue out, wrapping around the digit and sucking it into his mouth. Yoongi’s gaze darkens, following the shape of his mouth as Taehyung wraps his lips around the whole finger. “You’re kind of a brat, you know that?”
Taehyung lets his finger go with a pop, smiling up at Yoongi.
“Yep.” he says, then swiftly pushes the older man into the bed, switching their positions.
Yoongi lands on the mattress with a little oof , and Taehyung doesn’t waste any time before climbing above him, hands toying with the ends of Yoongi’s shirt. He meets Yoongi’s eyes, the older man intensely watching his every move. Taehyung swallows and lifts Yoongi’s shirt off, throwing it on the floor and sitting back to admire the man.
Between the tacky sheets, Yoongi looks like an angel, all pale skin and hard angles. There’s a red flush covering his face, and his pretty arched lips are parted, breathing deeply. His nipples are hard, pink buds, abused from Taehyung’s touch. Taehyung splays his hands against Yoongi’s thighs, eyes set on the outline of his hard cock hidden by his black underwear. Heat wraps itself around Taehyung’s insides, flaring up.
“So beautiful, hyung.” Taehyung says from above, leaning down to kiss Yoongi’s collarbones again. The older man sighs, arms crossing to wrap around Taehyung’s back, fingers running up and down.
Taehyung kisses down Yoongi’s chest, mouth closing around a nipple, already so sensitive under his ministrations. Taehyung circles the pink flesh with his tongue, teeth scraping the bud, and Yoongi arches off the bed with a low moan. He scratches Taehyung’s nape, gripping hard as the younger man licks across his chest to reach the other nipple, giving it the same attention, smirking as Yoongi curses under his breath. He toys with them until Yoongi’s moans get louder and he’s pushing him away, the cooling saliva making him so oversensitive it’s painful.
“C’mon,” Yoongi complains, nails biting down on Taehyung’s scalp.
“What?” Taehyung asks, letting go and smirking up at Yoongi. His cheeks are red and his eyes are misty, glazed over with arousal.
“Just. Do something.” Yoongi tugs on his hair. Taehyung tuts, mouthing on his stomach.
“Who’s the brat now,” he says, licking around Yoongi’s navel. The older man trembles beneath him, and it sends a flash of heat down Taehyung’s spine. His dick is so hard it fucking hurts, but he pushes down the urge to rut on the bed like a teenager to snap Yoongi’s boxers, making the other hiss and slap his shoulder.
“Behave”, Yoongi warns, but Taehyung just smiles and inches his fingers down his boxers, fingertips grazing the head of his cock. He looks up, asking for permission, and Yoongi gives him a crooked smile that doesn't really match with his fond eyes.
“You don’t need to be so careful, Taehyung-ah”, Yoongi says as he lifts his hips from the bed. “I’m not gonna run away”.
“There’s really nowhere to run”, Taehyung answers in a breath, tugging down on Yoongi’s boxers and throwing them on the floor. He grabs Yoongi’s legs as a way to stop his hands from shaking, caressing his heated skin.
Yoongi’s cock is as beautiful as he thought it would be, curving towards his stomach, the pink head swollen and glistening. Taehyung’s mouth waters as he comes closer, hands running up and down Yoongi’s thighs, the need to have it in his mouth, to taste Yoongi and make him let out more of those mind blowing sounds stronger than any rational thought at the moment. He kisses Yoongi’s skinny hip bone, trailing his lips from the dip to the lower stomach, deliberately avoiding his aching erection. Taehyung gives Yoongi’s skin an open mouth kiss, letting his drool pool and spreading it down with his tongue, dangerously close to his cock, contourning it with his mouth.
“I’ll kill you”, Yoongi says from above, tugging on his hair again. Taehyung’s scalp is tender, but he’ll be damned before he tells Yoongi to stop. “I swear to God I’ll hit your head with the telephone and kill you”.
“Yeah, keep going”, Taehyung moans, taking Yoongi’s cock into his hand. Yoongi’s breath hitches, the older man closing his eyes from relief. “I love dirty talk”.
“You’re so annoying, I regret this already”.
Taehyung just smirks, lazily moving his hand up and down on Yoongi’s cock, hot and heavy to the touch. He maintains a steady pace, thumb rubbing against the slit, watching in fascination as precome pools around the head. Taehyung uses his fingers to spread it across the shaft, making it slicker, easing his glide on the soft skin. Yoongi’s breathing is heavier, filling the room with his charged sounds.
While continuing to play with his cock, Taehyung turns his attention to Yoongi’s inner thigh, the beautiful expanse of skin practically screaming to get marked. He kisses it first, small butterfly touches that soon turn harsher as he sinks his teeth into the creamy flesh.
Yoongi gasps, loosening his hold on Taehyung’s hair. Taehyung sucks the skin, worrying it between his teeth and lets it go, satisfied with the reddening bruise that’ll soon turn into a small nebula. He goes a little higher, the pale canvas the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a while, and bites again. Above him, Yoongi groans, his chest rising and falling as Taehyung pays special attention to his creations, encouraged by the reaction, switching from thigh to thigh to make them twins. Yoongi’s pale skin bruises so easily, perfectly giving under Taehyung’s mouth, hot and insistent Yoongi moans as he sucks hard close to his ass, a deep, raspy sound that goes straight into Taehyung’s dick.
When his thighs are shiny with spit, Taehyung pulls away, proud of his work. With his other hand, he presses down on one hickey, satisfied with the way Yoongi shivers. Taehyung takes pity on him and brings his mouth where it’s hotter, slowing down his hand and licking a stripe from base to tip.
Yoongi’s mouth falls open in a silent moan as Taehyung closes his lips around the pink head, suckling teasingly, keeping his movements shallow. He swirls his tongue around the slit, tasting the salty precome, feeling as Yoongi clenches his fists on the sheets beside them. Taehyung lets his cock sit, heavy and dripping, on his tongue, flattening it to collect the precome, sticky in his mouth. He lowers his head, swallowing around Yoongi as the older man pants, every noise sending sharp arrows of arousal that travel throughout his entire body and settle in his cock. He bobs his head up and down,
He keeps his pace, expertly swallowing down until his nose brushes against Yoongi’s pelvis as the older man pants and shivers, turning into a blushed, sweaty mess. It’s so erotic, seeing well-composed Yoongi fall apart under him, because of him, face slack from pleasure, and Taehyung moans around his cock, sending vibrations up Yoongi’s shaft. Yoongi keens , hips bucking up and making Taehyung choke, spit running down his chin and falling on the bed, messy, so messy. Yoongi’s hands fly to Taehyung’s hair, pulling him down, forcing him to take his cock deep into his throat, hips moving lightly to fuck his mouth in the most gentle way. Taehyung traces the veiny side with his tongue, nose buried in the base of Yoongi’s dick, and he thinks he could die happily like this, mouth full of cock from the most beautiful person ever. Yoongi’s cock hits the back of his throat, and he swallows it hungrily, eyes rolling back in his head as the older man pushes his head further down, even if there’s nowhere else to go.
He makes the mistake of looking up, at Yoongi’s sweaty hair, at his closed eyes, his parted lips. It’s physically impossible for him to resist letting go, mouth slick, and to kiss him.
Yoongi makes a frustrated noise, unhappy that Taehyung is not touching him anymore, but his lips still open obediently for the younger, slipping his tongue into his mouth, tasting himself on Taehyung’s tongue. Taehyung kisses him hard, leaving no space for breathing, pressing him down on the bed and grinding their cocks together, Yoong’s one covered in his spit. Taehyung groans, letting go of his lips only to take off his own underwear and coming back again, attracted by Yoongi’s intense magnetic pull. Yoongi receives him with open arms, kissing down his neck, sucking his own marks as revenge for the mess Taehyung made of his thighs, still tender from all of the biting. The younger closes his eyes in bliss and keeps moving his hips, Yoongi’s cock an incredible heat against his own. He thinks he can come just from this, humping together, but Yoongi apparently has other plans.
The older man brings his head down and whispers against his ear, hips coming up to meet his thrusts.
“I want you in me”, Yoongi says, making Taehyung stutter his movements, wide-eyed. “Wanna feel you inside, wanna ride you”.
Taehyung meets his eyes, soulful and dark with intent. He drops his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, groaning.
“God, you shouldn’t say these things”.
“What? Are you getting shy on me?”, Yoongi laughs, hugging Taehyung’s nape with his palm. He scratches lightly, more comforting than arousing, but Taehyung welcomes the touch with a purr. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to”.
“No”, Taehyung shakes his head and kisses Yoongi’s shoulder, welcoming the warmth of his skin. “I want to. Like, really want to. Ever since I met you”.
“Yes, keep talking about how you only liked me for my body”, comes the flat response. Taehyung laughs, rising to kiss Yoongi’s cheek.
“If you want me to list the things I like about you, we’re gonna be stuck here the whole winter break”, he murmurs against the corner of his mouth.
“Cheesy”, Yoongi grumbles, but Taehyung smiles, hearing the hidden bashfulness. Yoongi is so cute.
“I have stuff”, Taehyung says, remembering the bag he had grabbed in the car.
“I know”, Taehyung looks at him quizzically. “I saw after my shower. You’re really not that subtle”.
“Oh”, the younger blushes and looks away, sheepish. “I’m just gonna grab it, then”.
“Took you long enough”, Yoongi complains and shoves him out of the bed.
Naked and leaning down in search of the lube and condoms he packed, Taehyung feels a little pathetic, like a neanderthal scavenging for food, awfully vulnerable and open. But when he looks back over his shoulder, Yoongi is sprawled on the bed, watching him like a hawk, hand leisurely dragging over his own cock. The thoughts of a cute Yoongi fly right out of his head; Yoongi here is anything but cute. Under the amber light, he’s sensual, tilting his head back, raising his leg so Taehyung’s hickeys can be seen from across the room, eyes so deep and dark that Taehyung swears he can see his own soul reflected on them.
Arousal punches him in the stomach, all of the fire from before coming back as if never left. He wants this visual ingrained in his brain, Yoongi naked and flushed, waiting for him, wanting him. His fingers itch for his camera, forgotten in the car, to capture Yoongi like this and keep for his eyes only, like a secret shared between friends. He quickly grabs his things and goes back to bed, taking Yoongi’s hand from his cock and lacing their fingers together. Outside, a thunder roars, shaking the walls of their temporary shelter.
“I can’t believe I grabbed the bag with the lube”, Taehyung says, throwing it on the bed. “Must be destiny”.
“Or you’re just horny”, Yoongi playfully jabs a free finger on Taehyung’s stomach, then reaches lower and curls his hand around Taehyung’s cock, tugging once, twice. Taehyung bites his lip to keep from moaning, neglected for too long, cock drooling over Yoongi’s hand. “I knew you’d have a big dick”, Yoongi says. “So pretty, too. Can’t wait to have it inside me”.
“You’re filthy”, Taehyung sighs. Then, with much remorse, he taps Yoongi’s hand away and grabs the lube, popping the cap open. “So filthy, hyung”.
“And you love it”, Yoongi punctuates, spreading his legs farther to accommodate Taehyung between them.
Taehyung squirts lube on his fingers and tries to warm them up, but he keeps getting distracted by Yoongi, laying down and running his fingers up and down his own chest. He teases his own nipple, pink and hard, while his other hand is between his legs, fingertips brushing against his hole. Taehyung’s mouth is dry, and he tries to swallow, but it doesn’t really help.
“Devil”, he mutters, eyes fixed on Yoongi’s hand between his legs. Yoongi laughs, flushed so prettily it’s obscene.
“Want me to do it?”, he says, nodding to the lube on Taehyung’s fingers. “Put on a show for you, Taehyungie?”.
The seductive lilt on Yoongi’s voice, his words, the way his hand was still gliding against his hole, everything is so different from the usual introspective Yoongi that Taehyung growls, grabbing Yoongi’s leg with his free hand and digging his nails harshly on the skin. The thought of Yoongi pleasuring himself, fingers shoved deep inside, playing with himself just like he plays the keys of his piano, all the while looking directly into Taehyung’s eyes, is dizzying. However, Taehyung is so eager to touch him he’s sure he’ll pass out if he doesn't.
“No”, Taehyung circles his fingers around Yoongi’s wrist, pulling it away. “I wanna do it”.
“Some other time, then?”, Yoongi asks, aiming for nonchalance, but Taehyung sees how his eyes turn to the ceiling, firmly not looking back at him. It seems like a habit with him, not being able to look Taehyung in the eyes when saying something compromising, and Taehyung is so, so enamored with him. The younger man smiles, leaning down to kiss Yoongi’s temple, weirdly sweet as he circles Yoongi’s hole with his index finger.
“Yes, please”, he whispers against Yoongi’s sweaty hair. Then, he inserts the tip of his finger, feeling as Yoongi clenches and gasps, breathing hard as he feels his walls close around him. “Okay?”.
“Yeah, yeah”, Yoongi falls down on the bed, settling back on the pillows. “Go on, we don’t have all day”.
“Of course you’d be a pillow princess”, Taehyung teases, but pushes his finger deeper, brushing against Yoongi’s soft inner walls, getting him to slowly open up. Yoongi is tense, muscles locked beneath him, hands fiddling with the sheets, so Taehyung leaves open mouth kisses on his neck, gliding his tongue down his throat.
“Relax, hyung”, he murmurs, wriggling his finger. “God, you feel so good already. Can’t wait to be inside you”.
Yoongi pants, brows creasing. Taehyung takes a nipple in his mouth, rolling the bud around his tongue, and the older man’s mouth falls open in a silent moan.
“Another”, he says, hands leaving the sheets and hugging Taehyung’s back, thumping a bit to make him move.
Taehyung obliges, sliding a second finger into Yoongi’s fluttering hole, moving them back and forth to stretch him further. The sensation of having Yoongi’s warm envelop his fingers has shivers running down Taehyung’s spine, his cock so hard it’s leaking. The older man’s breath hitches as Taehyung starts to scissor his fingers, and he rises up to kiss Taehyung, mouth working frantically against his. Taehyung drives his fingers deeper, increasing their pace as he searches for Yoongi’s sweet spot, never stopping from kissing him. His lips are tender and sensitive, like he got hit on the mouth in the sweetest way possible, every push and pull of Yoongi’s mouth tasting so saccharine Taehyung’s pretty sure he’s getting addicted.
Suddenly, Yoongi is arching up the bed, moaning loudly against Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung leans away, a string of spit connecting their mouths as he brushes his fingers deep again, watching, mesmerized, as Yoongi shivers and groans.
“Yes, right there”, Yoongi pants, pretty mouth shiny with spit and puffed up from Taehyung’s kisses. “Ah, Taehyungie, yes ”.
Taehyung is in a trance, slipping a third finger just to watch as Yoongi nearly shouts, squirming, chasing the feeling of Taehyung’s digits brushing against his prostate. His cock is so red, drooling over his pale stomach, and Taehyung can’t look away. His other hand toys with his nipple, scratching it with a nail, and Yoongi moans, high pitched and whiny, eyes half closed.
Taehyung grinds down, bringing their cocks together as his hand still moves inside Yoongi. The angle is a bit awkward, but he manages to keep Yoongi breathless, mewling incoherently underneath him, head thrown back. Their cocks rut against one another, hot skin on hot skin, and Taehyung feels as Yoongi shakes and clenches.
“Stop, fuck, fuck, stop”, Yoongi pleads, weakly batting Taehyung’s hand away. Taehyung stills his movements, waiting for Yoongi to catch his breath. “Fuck, I don’t wanna come. Wait a second”.
Taehyung hides his giggle on Yoongi’s neck, peppering little closed mouth kisses over his heated skin. Yoongi pants, breath labored as he wills his orgasm to recede, impatiently tapping his fingers on Taehyung’s back.
“Sorry for that”, he says conversionally. Taehyung bursts into laughter, burying his face deeper into Yoongi’s warmth.
“It’s okay”, he says, removing his fingers from Yoongi’s hole and sitting back to watch as his pink rim swallows around nothing. It’s obscene, the way Yoongi is spread out for him, legs trembling, letting Taehyung see every single inch of him, letting Taehyung admire him like the work of art he is. “I figured stamina isn’t really your strong point”.
Yoongi gives him a flat look, and it would be effective if he weren’t naked and sweaty.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”.
“Hyung, you get out of breath while climbing stairs”.
“Agh, so disrespectful”, Yoongi motions him closer, grabbing his nape. “Such a tease ”, Yoongi closes his mouth around Taehyung’s bottom lip, biting it softly. “Ever since that first night, you were always teasing me, weren’t you? You’d look at me with your big eyes, your voice so, so low, and expect me not to want to eat you whole. Loved having hyung wanting you, chasing you”.
“Yes”, Taehyung agrees, closing his eyes. “Wanted you so bad, hyung, dreamed of you every day. Wanted to be good for you”.
Yoongi exhales shakily, gently pressing Taehyung down the mattress and climbing up to his lap. He pushes Taehyung’s hair out of his eyes, looking down on them.
“You are”, he says softly, looking like an angel, blushed and so unbelievably beautiful. “So good for me. My pretty boy”.
Taehyung nods, throat too full of something up to answer. Their breathing is loud in the charged air between them, hanging heavy with too many truths being revealed as he takes Taehyung’s cock into his hand and lines it with his hole. The older man grabs a condom, opening the packet and rolling the latex down Taehyung’s length, making Taehyung choke down a groan. Yoongi spreads more lube on his shaft, just for good measure, teasingly rubbing his cock until Taehyung shivers.
Then, Yoongi meets his eyes and sinks down, enveloping Taehyung fully into his warmth.
Taehyung lets out a low moan, closing his eyes and getting lost on the sensation of Yoongi closing around him, taking him so beautifully he believes their bodies were made for each other, crafted out of the same mold and just waiting to fit together like this, perfectly against each other.
Yoongi breathes through his nose, trying to get used to the stretch, palms resting on Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung runs his fingers up Yoongi’s sides, digging the skin with care, trying to distract the man from the sharp burn he must be feeling. It’s a struggle to keep from moving, his hips aching to buck into the hot, tight body above him, circling him from every angle. A rush of arousal runs through Taehyung when Yoongi tentatively thrusts his hips forward, getting used to the weight of Taehyung inside him, and the younger man has to look at the dirty ceiling to keep from moving.
After a few moments tick by without nothing happening, Taehyung frowns and looks at Yoongi again, noticing the small smirk on the older man’s face. Taehyung grunts and grabs his hips more forcefully. letting his nails scratch the soft skin.
“Evil”, he says, lifting his hips a little, pushing his cock even deeper. Yoongi shivers, clenching around him, but keeps infuriatingly still. “Planning on cockwarming me all night?”.
“Maybe”, Yoongi grins, slow and catlike, settling on Taehyung’s dick as someone settles on an armchair after a long day. “Quite like it here. Do you want me to leave?”.
Taehyung watches as amusement shows its face on the corners of Yoongi’s mouth, blending with his misty eyes and blushing cheeks, and he looks so impossibly young that Taehyung has to wonder if he’s really three years older. But two can play this game.
He rests against the pillows, crossing his arms behind his head.
“Do whatever you want, hyung”, he says as he starts to move his hips, small, subtle circles that drag his cock inside Yoongi’s walls. “I only live to serve”.
“So devoted”, Yoongi says through gritted teeth as Taehyung keeps his pace. Taehyung starts sweating, the pressure on his cock not enough to bring him relief. He wants to grab Yoongi and pound into him, shove his dick deep and hard, make the other man drool on the sheets but he steels his nerves and continues with his shallow thrusts, building up a rhythm that makes his toes curl. “You’re giving me false hope, Taehyungie”.
“Good”, Taehyung grins, hips coming up again. Yoongi sucks on a breath, clenching his hands on Taehyung’s skin, stubbornly keeping his stance, just a solid weight above Taehyung. Taehyung splays his hand against Yoongi’s back, lightly pushing forward, rocking Yoongi on his cock, even if the man doesn’t move. He tries to find his line of thought, not get too lost in the heat surrounding him. Yoongi has his eyes closed, frowning, but Taehyung knows it’s because he’s trying not to get lost, too. Trying to win whatever stupid game they’re playing now. “You’re so gorgeous, hyung”, Taehyung drops the pitch of his voice, fascinated with the way Yoongi breaks out in goosebumps with just his words. “So good for me, too, sitting on cock like you were made for it. You love it, too, don’t you? Love having me inside you”.
Yoongi says nothing, face redder by the minute, so tense in trying not to rock his hips it’s almost laughable. Taehyung rises, presses his mouth to Yoongi’s throat, feels it pulsing between his lips.
“Answer me”, he commands, voice a tad too sharp. He kneads Yoongi’s ass as an apology, but the older man doesn’t seem to mind.
“Yes”, he breathes out, hand coming to tangle on Taehyung’s hair again. He’s a little obsessed with it, with burying his fingers on the soft curls, now dry and smelling like rain. “I love it. Feels so good, so full”.
Taehyung trails a finger down Yoongi’s spine, and even lower, lower, until he reaches Yoongi’s rim, stretched so good around the girth of his cock. He pushes his fingertip against his rim, just a barely there pressure, teasing at his entrance, and Yoongi absolutely melts . A shiver racks through his body so violently Taehyung has to grab his sides to keep him steady, and his mouth opens in his most lewd sound yet, a high pitched moan that Taehyung wants to record and listen on loop for the rest of his life. He kisses his hairline, the ends of his dark hair curling around his ears, so adorable it gives Taehyung whiplash. Yoongi smells like the cheap hotel shampoo, something impersonal and overly sweet, but underneath it all Taehyung can smell his sweat, his overwhelming scent of just Yoongi , clinging to his skin, transferring some of it to Taehyung’s, something tropical even though they’re in the middle of winter, like ripe summer oranges. Taehyung soaks in it, basks in the way every sense is currently getting full of the beautiful man currently chasing his lips into another kiss.
When Taehyung removes his finger, Yoongi kicks into action, groaning in frustration and lifting himself on his thighs only to slam back again, sinking into Taehyung’s cock with vigor. A rush of satisfaction mixes with pleasure in Taehyung’s body, the coiled heat in his chest spreading to his fingertips, his toes, the ends of his hair. His hands fly to Yoongi’s hips again, pushing him up and bringing him down.
Yoongi’s not a sore loser. He grabs Taehyung’s neck, pulls at his hair, panting his name, his choked out moans sounding like music to his ears, as beautiful as the songs he writes. He builds up a rhythm, up and down on Taehyung’s cock, his own standing proudly against his stomach, the red glistening. Yoongi is gorgeously flushed and misty eyed, pleasure making him sloppy at times, slipping from his pace and catching himself on Taehyung’s chest.
Taehyung kisses his throat, his jawline, behind his ear. He catches Yoongi’s lips open in a moan, kissing him hard as the pleasure builds inside him, pressure so strong he feels like it’s going to explode. He can only focus on the beautiful man on top of him, taking him so beautifully, pliantly opening his mouth when Taehyung pushes a finger to his lips. He takes the wet finger down to his nipple, and Yoongi shakes, mewling, throwing his neck back and letting Taehyung toy with him as he pleases. It’s dizzying, this trust between them, so full even though this is their first time together, Yoongi bendable in his lap, open to Taehyung’s every wish.
“You’re a dream”, Taehyung tells him when Yoongi slows his pace. He moves his hips in tight little circles, and when Taehyung’s cock drags against his prostate, his breath hitches. Yoongi bounces, getting drunk on the feeling, eyes rolling to the back of his head, chest flushed as red as his face, filthy noises rolling out of his tongue like a chant, like something holy, something sinful. Taehyung shoves two fingers down Yoongi’s mouth again, and the older man opens his eyes, drooling on Taehyung’s fingers, sucking on them hungrily as if Taehyung tastes as good, as wonderful as him, and it’s too much for his erratic heart to handle, the thread he’ been hanging lately fully snaping, the world crush sounding so childish and inappropriate. There’s nothing light about the way Yoongi feels around him, hot and insistent and taking too much, leaving Taehyung vulnerable and strung out in his touch, but giving just as sweetly.
Suddenly, their position is too awkward, too far away from each other, so Taehyung grips Yoongi by the soft skin of his underthighs, separating their bodies and roughly flipping them over, pressing Yoongi down the mattress, hovering long and hot over him. Yoongi huffs out a laugh, eyes crinkling cutely, and Taehyung comes down again to kiss him, to curl their tongues together in the way he already loves way too much. He easily glides his cock inside again, Yoongi so loose and wet his rim drips lube on the sheets. Without giving the older man a chance to breathe, his hips resume their rhythm, snapping into Yoongi’s smaller body, and the new angle makes him drive deeper, more forcefully. Yoongi whines loudly against his lips, mouth going slack from pleasure, shivers racking through his skin. He rakes his nails across Taehyung’s back, and he hisses, the sting burning as painful as the bites he littered across Yoongi’s legs. Maybe less.
Taehyung is no better, the pressure between his legs the only thing he can feel. He looks down on Yoongi, sprawled on his back, holding on to him like an anchor, and shoves his face on Yoongi’s shoulder, hugging around him. His mouth spills praises and curses, half sentences that start with so good, hyung, love being inside of you and end with a low noise, a broken moan. He fucks into Yoongi fast and hard, the sounds of their skin meeting so obscene in the quiet room, messy the way the older man usually hates, but seems to crave in the intimacy of having Taehyung’s cock slapping into him, buried to the hilt. Yoongi chokes on a sob, eyes wet as Taehyung bites his shoulder, leaves a teeth mark he wishes Yoongi would wear as a tattoo.
“Fuck, fuck ”, Yoongi curses, hips rolling to meet Taehyung’s thrusts, bodies synced up. “You’re so deep, so big, perfect, so perfect, fuck, Tae”’.
Taehyung plants his hands on the mattress, caging Yoongi’s face, their eyes meeting between the pull of their bodies. Yoongi clenches around him, demanding, eyes teary and fierce, and Taehyung moans, shuddering hard, his spine feeling like it’s blazing, lit from every nerve ending.
“Don’t stop”, Yoongi growls, diggin his nails painfully on Taehyung’s back, leaving little indent marks. He should be declawed, Taehyung thinks, deliriously “Don’t you fucking stop, Tae, harder, I know you can do it, c’mon, do it faster, do it good for hyung”.
And Taehyung does, goes faster, goes harder, until Yoongi has tear tracks down his cheeks and his own skin feels like it’s completely pulled apart, pleasure so spread out he feels high on it, making his toes curl, his back arch, languid and lustful.
Yoongi turns his head into the pillows, breathing hard through his nose and trying to hide his tears. Taehyung lets him, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure to complain about Yoongi not looking at him, moving inside him even more erratically, touching Yoongi’s sweet spot every time he thrusts,
“Wanna cum”, Yoongi slurs, the gorgeous pink of his cheeks flushing down his neck, his chest. He meets Taehyung’s eyes with his own, slanted and glazed over. “Can you make me cum? Make me cum, Taehyungie, make hyung feel good”.
The air of dominance around him, the taunting words, still so present even when he has spit on his chin, when he has Taehyung caging him into the bed, when he’s crying because he’s taking cock so good, so beautiful, feels so amazing, it’s enough for Taehyung to understand that, even if it seems like it, Yoongi’s never lost the control he so meticulously wraps himself too. He just spun into another direction, made Taehyung believe he had the upper hand, when really he’s just blindly following Yoongi’s every step.
Taehyung leans his head down, nose brushing against Yoongi’s. He slowers his pace, moves his leg so the angle is a little bit better.
“Yes”, he whispers, driving his cock slow and deep into Yoongi, reaching between them and grabbing his cock into his hand. Yoongi arches off the bed, back bending so stunning it’s almost a painting, cock red and leaking over Taehyung’s hands. Taehyung matches his tugs with his thrusts, slamming into Yoongi from every direction, chasing his own orgasm at the same time he gives it to him, so eager to please him in every way possible. Yoongi pants, slurring curses and moans as Taehyung keeps his aim, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Taehyung presses his fingers down, caressing his balls, circling his finger on his perineum, making Yoongi tremble, spit out fucks and God, you’re so hot and so good, so good for hyung, my good boy. Taehyung’s so close already, barely tipping over the edge as he speeds up his hand, pounding into Yoongi, making him gasp. When Taehyung rubs his finger against the slit, Yoongi’s mouth opens around a silent moan, and he’s coming.
Taehyung can only watch as Yoongi spills on his hand, body clenching so hard it traps Taehyung inside him, as if he even wants to leave. Yoongi pants, sweaty all over, shaking like a leaf, but he motions for Taehyung to keep moving, so he does, rolling into Yoongi’s oversensitive walls. The older man lets out a high pitched whine, and he’s crying again, clawing at Taehyung’s back, pulling him down for a kiss that’s more teeth than lips. He traps Taehyung between his thighs, nearly shouts when Taehyung brushes on his prostate, and Taehyung’s orgasm hits him like a train.
White explodes around him, over him, and he closes his eyes to keep from blacking out, all the hairs on his body standing up as if he’s just been electrocuted. Pleasure rolls down his body in waves, making his mouth open into a drawn out moan, low and deep from his chest, sparks shining behind his closed eyelids. He rides his orgasm out, movements shallow, thrusting inside Yoongi until he taps at his shoulder, too sensitive to receive anything more. Taehyung lays on top of him, careful to not smush him into the mattress, to not suffocate him, so lightheaded the room spins.
They stay silent to catch their breath, Taehyung’s head buzzing with that satisfied laziness that comes after a good fuck, his muscles, previously straning to hold himself on his arms, are turning into pudding, soft and maleable. He’s so comfortable like this, body resting on Yoongi, the smaller man’s chest holding him so well, he almost forgets that they’re basically cuddling. And Yoongi is generally very iffy about physical affection; the last time Jimin had tried to hug him, Yoongi had almost bit him.
Reality starts to sink down, popping his fuzzy, happy bubble. Taehyung sighs, screwing his eyes shut and gathering up courage to move away, to put some distance between them before Yoongi has to awkwardly ask him too, even though they were literally inside each other just a few minutes ago. Taehyung doesn’t have the brain power to deal with Yoongi’s rejection, not yet, maybe not ever. He blames Yoongi’s affectionate words on the heat of the moment, even though Yoongi doesn’t really seem like the type to manipulate the situation so easily.
“It’s just sex”, he says to himself, harsh and angry that his heart is way too big and stupid for a grown adult, even if he never really fit into the shoes of one.
The moment Taehyung starts to move, shoulders bracing to get up and maybe go take a shower, his sweat mixed with the rain smell that dried over his hair probably stinking up Yoongi’s nose, the body under him moves too, locking his arms around Taehyung’s sides.
“No”, Yoongi complains, petulant. He shoves his faces on Taehyung’s hair, breathing him in. “Don’t move”, his words are slurred, like he’s drunk. His chest rises and fall in a pattern that mimics Taehyung’s, the both of them still in sync even if their bodies aren’t touching as intimately as before. “Too tired”.
Taehyung laughs, surprised and so, so happy it feels his whole face is gonna break in two because of his grin.
“You’re so cute”, he says, silly and stupidly happy, because Yoongi didn’t kick him out, didn’t turn around and went to sleep, didn’t leave him with his own thoughts. Yoongi hugs him, sighning contently. Taehyung can hear his heartbeat, singing to his blood, each ba doom sweeter than the other.“I desperately need a shower, though”.
“You do”, Yoongi agrees, hugging him tighter. His hands run across his back, soothingly over the red trails he left while squirming on the pillows. “Sorry about these”, he says, voice quieter, but Taehyung can hear him loud and clear: sorry for hurting you, even if you liked it, even if you wanted it.
Sweet, sweet Yoongi. Button shaped. The most refined sugar, reminding Taehyung of summer, long golden days and tangerines.
Taehyung grins, slow and full of teeth, lifting his head to kiss Yoongi’s button nose.
“You were perfect”, he tells him honestly. “You’re always perfect. I’d say I have a crush on you, but that sounds dumb. I think I’m half in love with you”.
Taehyung doesn’t mean to blurt that out. It’s just that looking at Yoongi in the eye makes him nervous, and he usually just says whatever it’s on his mind when he’s nervous.
The way Yoongi’s eyes go comically wild, then he laughs and kisses Taehyung’s mouth makes everything a little better, a little right. The older man’s tongue curls on his, soft, tasting like honey even though they haven’t eaten anything in a while. It should be bitter, but Taehyung can only taste sweetness and warmth and care.
“Told you”, Yoongi murmurs against his mouth, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Something else”.
Taehyung glows, pride swelling in his gut. He kisses Yoongi once, twice, just little touches that warm him with the most comforting candle, instead of the blazing fire of before.
“My sweet boy”, Yoongi whispers, kissing his cheek. Taehyung flushes, turns the color of ripe strawberries.
“You said that a lot”, he answers, closing his eyes and basking on the proximity, on the skinship. He can feel Yoongi’s whole body under his, his soft cock pressing against his abdomen, his legs still shaking with the aftermath of his orgasm. Yoongi’s skin is silk, soft and refreshing and cool to the touch. “Kinda felt like a dog”.
The older man pinches his arm. Not hard, never with the intent to hurt. Just a playful gesture.
“I didn’t hear you complaining then”, he says, pouting. Taehyung coos and kisses it, bringing his lower lip into his mouth.
“I’d never”, he says playfully. Then, he drops his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, humming as the older man runs his fingers through his hair. “I really need to shower, I smell. You, too, mister”.
“Yes, yes”, Yoongi waves as if basic hygiene isn’t that important, as if there isn’t cum drying on both of their stomachs. “We can go together, save some water and all that, make Namjoon-ah proud”.
“Definitely yes to that”, Taehyung spreads more, fitting Yoongi in the curves of his body, all of his nooks and crannies matching with his. “Ah, the hyungs must be so worried. Jimin’s probably driving them crazy. I kinda feel bad”.
“I don’t”, Yoongi deadpans, kissing Taehyung’s forehead, his hair again, even if it smells. “Hoseok’s been bothering me for weeks now, saying I should stop being a little bitch and to ask you out already”.
Taehyung raises his head, blinking a bit.
“You want to go out with me too?”, he asks owlishly, tipping his head to the side. His heart feels three times bigger, cloying in his throat. He’s so happy he wants to burst into song, grab Yoongi’s face and force him to sing along.
Yoongi gives him an unimpressed look.
“Obviously”, he says, then kisses Taehyung’s upper lip to soothe the words, his bow-y lips capturing Taehyung’s mouth so gently it’s impossible to doubt his words. “I wanted to fuck you the moment you walked into that bar. Wanted to go out with you the minute you told me your major, how your eyes got all big and excited and shy while talking about your art”.
Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, but it feels as if he doesn’t have to, as if Yoongi understands. As if he can also feel the rush of fondness and like and half-love in his blood. Taehyung just smiles, a little more reserved this time, but not less happy. Not less full.
“I’m half in love with you, too, by the way”, Yoongi says, looking at the ceiling, cheeks getting red from the admission. “Just if it wasn’t clear”.
“It was, but thanks for saying it. Feels nice”, Taehyung throws him a cheeky smile.
Yoongi just shakes his head and pushes lightly at his shoulder, sitting them both up to go shower, wash away the sex smell that clings around them. Outside, the storm receded, giving way for soft snow to fall calmy across their window. Taehyung looks down at himself and grimaces at the dry cum sticking to him, the room’s stuffy air getting a little uncomfortable. He gets up and opens the window, just a small crack so the early evening air can swoosh in, carrying the smell of winter with it.
“You know, I’m kinda grateful for this bed”, Taehyung says, patting the sheets as Yoongi grabs clothes for both of them, shirt back on. “I feel like it really helped to speed us up. And you laughed when I said about destiny”.
There’s a pause. Then, Yoongi says from the bathroom.
“Yes. Destiny. Totally”, his voice drips with sarcasm as he turns the shower on. “Keep believing that”.
Taehyung frowns.
“Hyung? What do you mean? Hyung?”.
But Yoongi just laughs under the shower spray, the mirror already fogging up, his body just a silhouette behind the thin glass. Taehyung tries to make him explain, but Yoongi just laughs and kisses him, wet and hot and delicious, and heat starts to pool between Taehyung’s legs even though he’d just cummed, so, really, it wasn’t his fault if his thoughts got a little scattered after that.