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“Why did they give us leis?” Yoongi mumbles, fingering the flowers draped around his neck as he tugs his suitcase along behind him.
“Ambiance, I think.”
Yoongi snorts, keeping one eye on the room numbers as they walk along the hallway. “This isn’t even a Hawaiian cruise.”
“You need to not be so grumpy,” Seokjin teases. “We’re on vacation! This is supposed to be fun!” When Yoongi gives him a baleful look, Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows. “I, for one, am very excited to get lei’d.”
“I could toss you overboard and no one would ever know,” Yoongi deadpans, stopping outside their door. “No one would even blame me.”
Seokjin grins, ducking in to press a smacking kiss to Yoongi’s cheek as he unlocks their door. “God, I love how kinky vacations make you, babe.”
Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes the door open, hiding his smile from his giggling husband. He doesn't need Seokjin to know how endeared he is by his stupid jokes, at least not so early into the trip. “This is nice,” he says instead, heaving his suitcase onto the bed.
“Not bad,” Seokjin says, nodding as he looks around the interior. He steps past Yoongi, tugging open a glass door past the bed. “Glad we sprang for the balcony room.”
The room is small, but they expected that. Neither of them have been on a cruise before, but reviews told them enough about the size of the accommodations. It’s not bad though, they sprang for an upgrade, a deluxe balcony cabin. There’s the queen sized bed, a little sitting area by the door to the balcony, and a bathroom that looks clean enough.
“We haven’t been on a vacation in forever,” Yoongi says as he unzips his suitcase. There’s a chest of drawers and a small closet, he may as well unpack since they’re here for ten days. “We deserve to splurge a little.”
“Splurge,” Seokjin echoes, voice a teasing coo. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband and his color coded budget spreadsheets?”
“We saved money with the all inclusive food and drinks package,” Yoongi mumbles, “it evens out.” Seokjin grins at him but doesn’t tease further, opening his own suitcase to join Yoongi in unpacking.
They had been talking about a vacation for a while, a chance to relax. It’s been… Yoongi’s not entirely sure how long it’s been since their last trip away. He doesn’t count weekend fishing trips in Pyeongchang and Taean-gun. Surely since their honeymoon eight years ago… right?
Yoongi doesn’t dwell on the details. They wanted to get away, spend some time together. Seokjin saw the advertisement on the television for the cruise. Not just a couple’s cruise but a gay couple’s cruise. Seokjin declared it was perfect for them, brushing off Yoongi’s protests that it would be all old men or swingers.
“Why do those have to be mutually exclusive?” Seokjin teased, and Yoongi hit him with a tea towel.
After a review of the website and some convincing from Seokjin, Yoongi cracked. Despite not really liking water, and fearing their eventual devouring by sharks, Yoongi agreed. And now, here they are, with Seokjin removing a truly heinous number of Hawaiian shirts from his bag.
“We have the welcome party in a couple of hours,” Seokjin says as he hangs up his shirts. “But nothing until then, so we have some time to kill.”
“Excellent,” Yoongi responds, taking the rest of his belongings from his suitcase. “That means we have time for a nap.”
Seokjin frowns. “I thought we could christen our new room, break in our new bed.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Yoongi says with a roll of his eyes. Seokjin pouts and Yoongi sighs, relenting much too easily. “Fine.” Seokjin perks up and Yoongi points a finger at him. “We nap, but I’ll cockwarm you with my thighs.”
“Deal!” Seokjin says immediately, shooting Yoongi overeager finger guns.
“Ridiculous,” Yoongi repeats, but he’s already taking off his clothes.
And if Yoongi wakes up to Seokjin rutting against him, streaking his thighs with cum, well, he’s not really complaining. Especially when Seokjin will help him clean up in the shower very thoroughly. They are on vacation after all.
---
Yoongi should buy stock in tiny cocktail umbrellas. The welcome party is in full swing with live music and free drinks and Yoongi is definitely halfway to tipsy. (Who would have thought free drinks would be so strong?) Every one of these drinks has a little umbrella in it, whoever invented them must be making a fortune.
The party is being held in a ballroom that opens onto a deck, there’s a fancy sea glass chandelier and the rug looks like seafoam. Men mingle in groups and pairs, but Seokjin and Yoongi are tucked together at a table in the corner. It would be intimate, if not for the crowd around them. Not that Seokjin seems to care, he’s had his hand very high up on Yoongi’s thigh for a while now, murmuring teasing filth into Yoongi’s ear between sips of his Mai Tai.
Ask anyone who knows him, and they’ll tell you that Min Yoongi is not big on public displays of affection. Holding hands in public, sure, maybe a quick kiss on the cheek after checking to make sure no one is looking. Unless he’s well on his way to drunk, that’s about the extent. But compared to Seokjin, Yoongi is basically a shameless pervert.
Seokjin still gets red when Yoongi kisses his cheek in public. Whenever they walk down the street holding hands, there’s at least a seventy percent chance that the tips of Seokjin’s ears will be pink. Yoongi was half convinced Seokjin was going to shake his hand during their vows instead of kiss him, for fuck’s sake. It’s honestly pretty endearing, and it makes the times when Seokjin is exactly the opposite all the more titillating.
They’ve been married for years now, comfortable and happy. It’s not that they don’t have sex, because they definitely do. Often. Maybe more than they did when they met in their final year of university. But there’s something about vacations that seem to make Seokjin insatiable, and surprisingly adventurous. Seokjin has only had two drinks, but he’s been keeping up a steady litany of dirty talk, fingertips nearly on Yoongi’s dick and there’s no hint of his normally reserved self. It’s making Yoongi feel a little insane.
Yoongi just knows Seokjin’s going to try to suck his dick on their tiny little balcony. Like a gentleman, Yoongi will pretend to fight it, but he’s definitely half hard in his stupid khaki shorts thinking about his husband, still unfairly hot in a Hawaiian shirt and linen pants, on his knees for him where anyone could see.
A waiter comes over to replenish their drinks and Seokjin leans away a little. His hand slides to Yoongi’s knee and Yoongi lets out a breath, thankful for the reprieve. Taking a sip of his drink, Yoongi scans the crowd, trying to relax. He absolutely does not need to come in his fancy vacation Bermuda shorts on the first night at sea.
Or the second.
The third though…
Yoongi freezes, thoughts cutting off as his eyes catch on someone in the crowd. Men mill about everywhere, dancing and talking but… Yoongi thought for a moment that he saw someone he knows. Or, well, used to know. But that’s - it’s not possible.
Confused, Yoongi blinks, scanning the room again for a flash of bleached hair, trying to find the same person. But there’s nothing, no one. Well, not the person Yoongi thought he saw. Maybe it was a mirage, or a trick of the light. Or maybe it’s all the drinks and Seokjin’s fingertips creeping closer to Yoongi’s inner thigh.
“Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin murmurs, nose tucked behind Yoongi’s ear, lips pressed to his sensitive skin, “we should go back to the room.”
Yoongi fidgets, ignoring Seokjin’s fingers beneath the hem of his shorts. “I’m having a nice time.”
“We could have a nice time in the room,” Seokjin purrs, his teeth nip at Yoongi’s earlobe. “We haven’t properly broken in the bed yet.”
He puts up a valiant effort, whining about wanting to take advantage of the free drinks while Seokjin murmurs in his ear. Both of them know Yoongi will give in. And it’s sooner, rather than later, that Yoongi allows his husband to pull him back to their room, giving into whispered promises of something sweeter.
---
“Not everyone is old,” Seokjin says. “A lot of these guys are around our age.”
“Hm,” Yoongi hums, turning a page in his book. “They’re the swingers, probably.”
Seokjin snorts from beside him. “I told you those don’t have to be mutually exclusive, they could -” He cuts off with a gasp. “Oh my gosh, look at that guy,” Seokjin hisses.
Humming again, Yoongi picks up his drink, taking a generous sip. It’s a nice day, sunny and warm, and they managed to find spots on one of the sun decks by a pool. They’re beneath an umbrella, Yoongi reading a book as Seokjin drinks daiquiris and people watches. His running commentary of the people he sees is mildly entertaining and Yoongi hums along, indulging him.
Yoongi doesn’t mind people watching, enjoys Seokjin’s comments and his giggles. But Yoongi really only likes people watching if the person he’s watching is Seokjin. Every few paragraphs, Yoongi looks away from his book to glance at his husband. Seokjin, lounging on his beach chair in a pair of tight swim shorts, looks very nice. In his distraction watching everyone else, Seokjin doesn’t even notice the way Yoongi is staring at his muscular torso, the toned lines of his legs and chest.
“What?” Seokjin says suddenly, sitting up straighter and pulling off his sunglasses. He frowns, squinting into the sun.
Yoongi pauses mid-way through fishing the cherry out of his drink, blinking in confusion. “Hyung?” he asks. “What’s the matter?”
Seokjin narrows his eyes further, lips pursing. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”
Blanching, Yoongi lets the cherry fall back into his drink. “Oh god,” he breathes. “Please don’t let it be Jimin and Taehyung. If they followed us on this trip I will commandeer this vessel and crash us into the nearest iceberg.”
A laugh bubbles from Seokjin’s lips, a surprised squeaky bark that has him falling back into his chair. He turns to Yoongi, grinning at him. “I don’t think your level one driving license includes cruise ships,” he teases, eyes sparkling in the sun.
Yoongi snags the cherry, gesturing at Seokjin with it. “You don’t know that,” he says primly. “I bet I can pilot all sorts of watercraft.” He pops the cherry into his mouth, studying his husband for a moment. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin says, waving Yoongi off. “I must have imagined it.” He shrugs and picks up his drink, settling in his chair again. Yoongi watches him for a moment, noting that even as Seokjin tries to look nonchalant, he still seems strangely tense.
---
Frowning, Yoongi nudges Seokjin with an elbow, leaning close to hiss in his ear. “You look ridiculous, stop it.”
“It’s fine,” Seokjin says airily, leaning away from Yoongi’s elbow as he drives the tongs back into the buffet platter in front of him.
“Yeobo,” Yoongi pleads, “you have a literal mountain of crab legs on your plate. Leave some for everyone else.” He glances around, hoping no one is staring at the way Seokjin’s plate is heaped high with crab.
“There are plenty of crab legs,” Seokjin sniffs, stacking a few more of the bright red limbs on his plate before finally setting down the tongs. “I’m on vacation, let me live.”
“This much seafood can’t be good for you,” Yoongi argues, following Seokjin as he heads toward a free table. “You’re going to get indigestion and have to throw up off the balcony!”
Seokjin sits down primly, settling his plate in front of him and flashing Yoongi a grin. “You’re just making things up because you’re upset the guy in front of us got the bigger lobster.”
“I’m not.” He is.
“Besides,” Seokjin continues, cracking a crab leg with a decisive snap, “crab is an aphrodisiac.” The smile he gives Yoongi is greasier than the melted butter he dunks his crab meat in.
“That’s oysters,” Yoongi hisses, digging into his own, much smaller, pile of seafood. He pauses, a bite of lobster halfway to his mouth, when a shadow falls over their table.
Yoongi looks up and - the lobster falls from his chopsticks as Yoongi freezes. Apparently Yoongi was not imagining things yesterday at the welcome party. The flash of bleached hair, the bright smile. Not an illusion, not when Jung Hoseok, Yoongi’s college ex-boyfriend is standing in front of him, beaming. A weird feeling goes through him at seeing Hoseok after so long, one he can’t quite identify. Hoseok looks good, lithe and tan, still just as beautiful as the last time Yoongi saw him.
Swallowing hard, Yoongi opens his mouth to greet him when -
“Hoseok-ah?”
Yoongi whips his head to the side, staring at his husband in confusion. “What?”
“Hi, Seokjin hyung,” Hoseok says, voice sweet as honey. Yoongi’s head snaps back around to face Hoseok as his smile widens. “Hi, Yoongi hyung.”
“Hello Seok-ah,” Yoongi rasps. When he turns his head, Seokjin is staring at him in stunned confusion.
“You know Hoseok?” Seokjin asks.
Yoongi nods. “I know Hoseok.” he blinks. “You know Hoseok?” Seokjin nods back. Huh.
“It’s great to see you both!” Hoseok says, bringing their attention back to himself. “It’s been quite a while.” He glances between them, noting their closeness and raising his eyebrows. “Are you…”
“Married,” Seokjin croaks, holding up his hand to show his ring, as if he needs concrete proof of this fact. Yoongi nods along, still confused.
“Wow!” Hoseok gasps, clapping his hands together. “This is so strange! Who would have thought my ex-boyfriends would have ended up married?”
Seokjin chokes on his drink, wheezing so violently that Yoongi hovers over him, pounding on his back. His brain feels like it’s stuck in a loop, unable to comprehend Hoseok’s words. Turning to Hoseok, Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by the arrival of another man.
“Hoseok-ah,” the man says, touching Hoseok’s shoulder, “your food is getting cold.”
Hoseok turns to the man and smiles and the man, tall and dimpled and very handsome, smiles back. It makes Yoongi feel weird and he doesn’t know why. “Thanks, Joonie.” Turning back to Yoongi and Seokjin, Hoseok flashes them a dazzling smile. “Great to see you both!”
Before Yoongi can reply, Hoseok is walking away without a backwards glance. Yoongi is left with his still sputtering husband, rubbing Seokjin’s back as his mind tries to make sense of the situation.
---
After a slightly tense rest of their meal, where Seokjin barely ate half of his crab legs, and they made extremely awkward conversation, Yoongi and Seokjin retired to their room. Yoongi is sitting on the end of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he stares out the windows at the sea. Seokjin is in the bathroom, water running, and things feel decidedly tense. Yoongi can’t stop thinking about Hoseok, how good he looked, but also how bad it felt so see him with someone else.
The bathroom door opens and Yoongi turns his head, finding Seokjin hovering in the open doorway. Seokjin is in his boxers and a t-shirt, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should probably talk,” he suggests, meeting Yoongi’s gaze.
Side by side on the bed, Yoongi stares at his hands folded in his lap. They’ve been together for years; they talk about everything. Yoongi doesn’t have any secrets from his husband, Seokjin has seen him at his absolute worst, when he threw up so hard after Jimin’s birthday party that he peed his pants. And Yoongi has seen Seokjin through bad and good, including when he developed a lactose intolerance.
“We’re being weird,” Yoongi says, trying to break the tension. He turns to Seokjin, giving him a small smile. “Why are we being weird?”
Laughing softly, Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think I’m just surprised?” Seokjin reaches over to take Yoongi’s hand, squeezing his fingers. “It’s weird finding out my husband is also my hole brother or whatever.”
“If you ever say that again, I will divorce you.”
Seokjin chuckles and scoots a little closer, their bare thighs press and Yoongi feels a little bit better. “I met Hoseok when I studied abroad in Japan,” Seokjin confesses. “You remember the program I did?”
“Of course I remember,” Yoongi says. “We talked about it on our first date since we both studied there.”
“Right.” Seokjin nods. “Well, I met Hoseok when I was there for a few months, we dated and when I returned to Korea -” He shrugs. “We broke up amicably and, well, that was it.”
“Then I was in Japan right after you,” Yoongi mumbles.
They had bonded over it, how funny it was that they studied in Tokyo barely a month apart. Same university but different programs. Their paths could have crossed if they had been there at the same time, instead it took them another year to meet back in Korea.
“Wait,” Seokjin says suddenly. “Wait, wait.” His lips stretch in a broad grin. “You were in Japan right after me, so you must have met Hoseok when you were there. Dated him just after me, right?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “I dated him for a few months in Tokyo, then when I went back to Seoul we broke up. No hard feelings, you know.”
“Right,” Seokjin repeats. “So not only are we husbands -” his smile widens “- we’re hole mates.”
“No jury would ever convict me if I threw you into the sea,” Yoongi deadpans.
Seokjin laughs, bumping Yoongi’s shoulder. “You love me.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree, they lapse into quiet, hands intertwined on Yoongi’s thighs. This whole thing is definitely surprising, and a little weird. Despite the lighthearted turn the conversation took, there’s an air of awkwardness between them. Yoongi can’t stop thinking about Hoseok, about how he had looked, about how he looked at both of them. He can’t help but imagine him and Seokjin together, imagine Seokjin with other men.
It’s… weird. Yoongi’s not a prude, and he’s not a jealous person, but he’s, somehow, never really thought about Seokjin with other people. Sure, they’ve talked about past relationships before, though Hoseok never came up. It had all been casual, light hearted, comparing funny stories, mentions of bad experiences in bed, the usual. But he’s never met any of Seokjin’s exes before, being faced with one, a shared one, has thrown his mind into a weird sort of tailspin.
They’ve been quiet for too long. Yoongi should say something. He shifts slightly, turning his head to address his husband, when Seokjin yawns. It’s loud and exaggerated, clearly fake, Seokjin stretching his free arm over his head.
“Gosh,” Seokjin says, letting go of Yoongi’s hand and patting his thigh. “I’m beat, how about you?”
Yoongi hesitates for a moment. He knows they should probably talk more about this, but - “Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “I’m still, you know, getting my sea legs.”
Seokjin chuckles, smiling softly as they climb under the covers. “That’s the landlubber in you,” Seokjin murmurs, settling on his back. “Good night, Yoongi-yah.”
“Good night,” Yoongi echoes. He pulls the covers up to his chin, lying beside Seokjin on his back, the two of them close but not touching. Yoongi lies awake, staring at the ceiling, mind stuck on thoughts of Seokjin and Hoseok and everything. He thinks, as he finally falls into a fitful sleep a while later, that he’s not the only one who laid awake.
---
Vacations should be relaxing, but when Yoongi wakes in the morning he does not feel rested. He’s tense, both of them are, walking to brunch. They don’t hold hands and they’re quiet, an air of awkwardness between them that Yoongi isn’t sure how to break. He wonders if Seokjin is having the same thoughts, of Yoongi with others, Yoongi with Hoseok. It’s not jealousy, per se, but… Yoongi isn’t entirely sure what the feeling is.
Maybe the strangest part, is that he thinks he might like the feeling.
By some trick of fate, Hoseok and his companion wind up behind them in line for the brunch buffet. “Hyungs!” Hoseok greets warmly, heart shaped smile on display. He looks well rested and vibrant. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Yoongi echoes.
“Good morning,” Seokjin says weakly, handing Yoongi a bowl of rice.
“Hyungs, this is Namjoon,” Hoseok says, presenting the dimpled man beside him. Namjoon bows to them. “Namjoon, this is Seokjin hyung and Yoongi hyung.”
Yoongi offers a smile he hopes looks genuine. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin begins, shuffling down the buffet line, “is this your partner?”
“Partner?” Hoseok repeats, looking scandalized. “Namjoon? Absolutely not!” He breaks off into a fit of giggles as Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Joonie won the cruise on a radio show, didn’t pay attention to the details when he invited me. We didn’t realize it was for couples until we got here,” he laughs. “We’re both single, just good friends.”
“Oh.” Guilt surges through Yoongi, replacing a sudden wave of hopefulness that swelled with Hoseok’s words.
They part ways at the end of the line, Yoongi following Seokjin to a free table. It’s even more awkward now, both of them drinking far more than they should. Why are they even serving drinks this strong at brunch? The waiter seems to appear as soon as Yoongi’s mimosa is even close to half empty and it’s definitely not helping. By the time they’re on their third drinks, Yoongi has barely eaten, just picking at the fruit on his plate.
“Yoongi,” Seokjin says, voice firm. Yoongi looks up, blinking as Seokjin lifts his Bloody Mary, taking a huge gulp of the deep red liquid. “We need to talk about this.”
“Uh.” Yoongi blinks at him. Seokjin has a tomato juice mustache and Yoongi’s head is buzzing a little from the champagne in his drinks. “I -”
“We’re being weird,” Seokjin interrupts.
Right, they are. Very weird. “It feels… strange,” Yoongi admits. He wants to be diplomatic, careful with his words. The last thing Yoongi wants is to hurt his husband. “We both dated Hoseok,” he continues. “It’s just… it’s weird to like, think about that. I know we’ve both been with other people, but I’ve never met them so -”
“You made out with Jimin before,” Seokjin cuts in.
Yoongi frowns. “That doesn’t count,” he snaps. “Don’t change the subject. Look, I think I’m just struggling with how to feel about all of this. It’s new territory.”
“Right.” Seokjin nods, lips pursed. His cheeks are red and Yoongi isn’t sure if it’s from the Bloody Mary’s or embarrassment or what. Lifting his glass, Seokjin drains the rest of his cocktail and nearly slams the glass onto the table, making Yoongi jump. “God, okay, I know this is fucked up, okay, I know!” Seokjin seems to have finally snapped. “I’ll get it if you hate me and you want to throw me to the sharks. You know I love you more than anything but I can’t stop thinking about the way my - our - ex boyfriend used to be able to put his ankles behind his head!”
There is a roaring in Yoongi’s ears as he stares at his husband, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. “Are you thinking about fucking Hoseok?”
“I’m sorry!” Seokjin blurts, covering his face with one hand. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he insists. “I love you more than anything, maybe I have cabin fever or scurvy and I -”
“Because I’m thinking about fucking him,” Yoongi interrupts.
Seokjin snaps his mouth closed with an audible click. They stare at each other for a few moments, then Seokjin reaches for Yoongi’s drink, chugging the remains of his mimosa before leaning in. “Do you remember how bendy he was?”
A shiver trails down Yoongi’s spine. “Strong thighs,” Yoongi whispers back. “Could ride dick for hours.” he swallows hard. “Strong everywhere, could hold me against a wall and -”
He cuts off as he feels fingertips on his knee, slipping beneath the hem of his shorts. “I know you like getting fucked against the wall,” Seokjin purrs, lips pressed to the shell of Yoongi’s ear. “Hoseok liked that too. He made such pretty sounds.”
“So pretty,” Yoongi breathes, voice hitching as Seokjin’s fingers slip higher, tickling along his inner thigh.
“Just like you,” Seokjin purrs, his fingernails scrape lightly along Yoongi’s thigh and he shivers again. “We should get out of here.”
Yoongi can’t remember the last time he moved so fast, practically upending the table in his haste to get up. Giggling madly, they speed walk along the halls, heading back to their room. If Yoongi wasn’t worried about being thrown in the brig, or whatever cruise ship prison is called, he’d suck Seokjin’s dick in the middle of the hallway.
---
By the time they make it back to the room, Yoongi has Seokjin’s shirt half unbuttoned and his own cock is straining against his zipper. They had paused briefly in an abandoned hallway to make out, tongues in one another’s mouths as Seokjin shoved his hands down the back of Yoongi’s shorts to squeeze his ass. It’s a miracle no one caught them.
They’re naked before they make it to the bed, stumbling out of their shorts and throwing their shirts onto the floor. The sound of Seokjin’s torn buttons bouncing along the tile is like music to Yoongi’s ears, along with the moan Seokjin lets out when Yoongi sucks on his tongue. Seokjin’s hands are on Yoongi’s hips, shoving him onto the bed none too gently. Yoongi doesn’t care, making grabby hands to pull his husband down with him, eager to reconnect their mouths.
Seokjin’s skin feels so hot, practically feverish everywhere it presses against Yoongi’s. Their mouths crash back together as Seokjin rolls them onto their sides, arms wrapping tight around Yoongi to draw him closer. Yoongi groans into the kiss, hiking a leg over Seokjin’s hip to rut their groins together. He’s so hard already, probably embarrassingly so. Their cocks grind together, sticky tips rubbing between their bellies and Yoongi hisses against Seokjin’s lips.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Seokjin grunts, kneading Yoongi’s ass. His lips drag against Yoongi’s, panting into his mouth as he speaks. “Bet you and Hoseok would look so good together.”
It should be wrong, should be a turn off, to talk about another man in bed. To talk about doing things with another man in bed. But it’s the opposite, Yoongi’s body burning from the inside out, his cock throbbing as Seokjin uses his grip on Yoongi’s ass to rock their bodies together.
“Bet you’d look so good with your lips stretched around Hoseokie’s cock,” Seokjin purrs, the tips of his fingers slipping to the cleft of Yoongi’s ass.
Yoongi groans, teeth sinking into Seokjin’s bottom lip. He squirms a little, unwrapping an arm from around Seokjin to wriggle it between them, wrap his palm around their sticky lengths. “Bet you’d look so good with Hoseok under you,” Yoongi breathes, squeezing their cocks to hear Seokjin moan. “Know you’d fuck him so good.”
“I would,” Seokjin insists. “Anything for you,” he promises. And Yoongi likes that, likes that he’s involved, that, somehow, this is for him.
It devolves from there, words become too difficult, their mouths pressing back together in a messy kiss. It’s sloppy, teeth and tongues and way too much spit. Yoongi’s barely coordinated enough to kiss Seokjin back, mostly panting wetly into his husband’s mouth. Everything else is too distracting.
The feeling of Seokjin’s hands squeezing his ass, fingertips playing over his hole. Their bodies rocking together, tangled so close that Yoongi can barely tell where he ends and Seokjin begins. And his hand around their cocks, squeezing and stroking, slick with precum as he clumsily jerks them off. Everything is hot and electric, pleasure boiling in Yoongi’s belly, rutting together like a couple of virgins.
Yoongi’s orgasm slams into him like a truck. The sound he makes is something he’ll probably be ashamed of later, whiny and desperate, keening as he ruts against Seokjin’s cock, spilling over his hand and their bellies. Seokjin follows him over the edge a moment later, cursing under his breath and squeezing Yoongi’s ass so hard he’s sure he’ll bruise.
Euphoria crashes over them in a tidal wave, making Yoongi’s vision blur, his hearing fuzz. As he slumps in Seokjin’s arms, trying to remember how to breathe, he realizes he can’t remember the last time he came so hard.
“So,” Seokjin murmurs a little later, when their heart rates have returned to normal and Yoongi’s vision is much less spotty, “that was something.”
Yoongi grunts, flopping onto his back to stare at the ceiling. His body feels pleasantly tingly, despite the stickiness covering his skin. “It was,” he agrees, voice a little hoarse. Yoongi clears his throat, turning his head to find Seokjin already watching him, looking a little worried. “We should have talked about this first.”
“We should have,” Seokjin says immediately. He’s on his back too, head turned to face Yoongi. “I’m sorry. I got carried away and I drank a little too much. That wasn’t cool of me.”
“I’m not upset,” Yoongi insists. “I got into it too, got wrapped up.” He licks his lips. “I liked it.”
“Yeah?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows raising. He sobers a moment later though, shaking his head. “Me too,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t discuss these things first. Were you okay with everything we just did? Everything we - I said?”
Yoongi licks his lips, remembering the dirty talk, the idea of Hoseok with them. “Yes,” he breathes. “I liked it,” he repeats.
“Okay.” Seokjin nods and Yoongi can see, even from this position, the tip of his ear turning pink. “I - was this all just a fantasy for you or…” he trails off.
Rolling onto his side, Yoongi props himself on one elbow. He brings a hand to Seokjin’s belly, fingers playing with the mess of cum on his skin. “You wanna fuck him.”
It’s not a question, not really.
Seokjin swallows, his belly tensing beneath Yoongi’s fingers. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe. Would it be weird?”
“I don’t know,” Yoongi parrots. “We’d, you know, do it like… together, right?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin says immediately. “Obviously, I wouldn’t want to do something like that without you.” Seokjin looks so earnest suddenly, as if he needs Yoongi to understand. “I married you, I love you.”
“I know,” Yoongi murmurs, unable to stop a smile from curling his lips. “Okay, I -” he swallows and looks up, meeting Seokjin’s eyes. “I kinda want to fuck him too.”
“Fuck.” Seokjin grins at him, stomach muscles twitching again as Yoongi’s fingers resume tracing over his belly. “I love you,” he declares. “I’m so fucking glad I married you.”
Yoongi cocks an eyebrow, lifting his hand from Seokjin’s skin and popping the sticky fingers into his mouth. He sucks lightly, watching his husband’s eyes darken. “So we can thirst over the same man and talk about threesomes?” Yoongi asks, removing the fingers from his mouth to lap at his fingertips.
“No,” Seokjin murmurs. “But yes.” He shifts then, pushing himself up and over Yoongi, flipping their positions. Yoongi goes pliant, letting Seokjin press him into the mattress and grin down at him. “Are we gonna seduce our shared ex-boyfriend together?”
“Fuck,” Yoongi huffs, reaching up to wind his hands around Seokjin’s neck. “This is so fucking weird.” He drags Seokjin closer. “But I guess so,” he whispers, as their mouths meet again.
---
Seokjin is horrible at seduction. It is astonishing to Yoongi how little game he actually has. Has Seokjin always been this way? Or has he lost any suaveness he had in the years they’ve been married? Yoongi isn't entirely positive, but he’s sure Seokjin must have done something to seduce him years ago…
But now he’s a mess, they both are. Or maybe they’re just unlucky.
Staying in shape as he gets older has been something Seokjin has been insistent on. Yoongi absolutely does not mind. In fact, he encourages this, loves seeing the evidence of Seokjin’s hard work. Loves his husband returning from the gym all sweaty, loves feeling the hard planes of his torso of the muscles in his thighs as they fuck.
So as a first step for seduction, they use Seokjin’s body to their advantage. Shallow? Maybe, but Yoongi doesn’t care. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, and Seokjin’s got it. They’re by the pool again, on a couple of sun loungers under an umbrella. A few meters away, Hoseok is in the pool, tossing a beach ball back and forth with Namjoon. And he’s absolutely looking over at them, keeps looking over.
There’s absolutely no reason for Seokjin to put on such a show when he applies sunscreen. Bending and twisting and flexing. But Yoongi isn’t complaining, finds himself getting a little hot even under the shade of his umbrella. And when he chances a glance, it seems Hoseok doesn’t mind either, his gaze fixed on Seokjin’s shoulders as Seokjin stretches his back.
Yoongi’s ready to call it a success, until Seokjin picks up his drink. Hands still slippery from sunscreen, combined with the condensation on his glass, Seokjin’s drink slips right from his fingers. And straight onto Yoongi. Squawking in shock as he gets a lap full of frozen cocktail, Yoongi jumps up, legs getting tangled in his towel. Seokjin lunges to catch him before Yoongi tumbles over, but in his haste he rams the beach umbrella. It collapses over them, falling to the deck with a loud crash that has everyone looking. Yoongi considers throwing both Seokjin and himself overboard this time, especially when he sees Hoseok’s shocked face, but he’s prevented when Seokjin grabs him, dragging him, chagrined, back to their room.
The second worst, nearly rivaling Seokjin’s umbrella incident, is also Seokjin’s fault. When packing for the trip, Seokjin pleaded with Yoongi to pack some swim shorts that are a little more provocative. Yoongi gave in, assuming he’d never wear them. Or if he did, it would be just for Seokjin in their room. But now, Seokjin is holding them out, hyping Yoongi up like he’s sending him off to his first day of school.
“You’ve gotta wear them,” he encourages. “Your legs are amazing, babe. Hoseok will die.”
“I don’t want to kill him,” Yoongi grumbles, but he accepts the offered pair of shorts. He tugs them on, pulling the fabric up over his ass. It clings, the shorts tight and so short. They leave nothing to the imagination and Yoongi looks ridiculous. “I look ridiculous,” he says, voicing the thought out loud.
“No,” Seokjin insists, “you look amazing.”
When he looks up, Yoongi can see the way Seokjin’s eyes have darkened, how his eyes roam over his bare thighs. “You’re looking at me like you’re going to eat me,” Yoongi grumbles, squirming a little beneath the heat of his husband’s gaze.
“I absolutely am,” Seokjin declares. “I’m going to show you off and then I’m going to bring you back here and take those shorts off with my teeth.”
Oh . Well, that’s not a bad idea. “Don’t get me hard,” Yoongi huffs, grabbing his beach bag. “I won’t be able to hide it.”
On the deck, Seokjin makes good on his promise. Yoongi feels a little like a prime cut of meat, letting his husband massage sunscreen into his thighs, fingers high on his legs, stroking along his skin. He can feel eyes on him, knows people are staring at how much of him is exposed. Maybe he likes it… a little.
“Hoseok is watching,” Seokjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek before he withdraws, settling on his own chair.
Yoongi shivers a little, glancing around until he sees Hoseok on the other side of the deck. He’s in a small group, clearly in the middle of a conversation, but his eyes are fixed on Yoongi. On Yoongi’s legs. Feeling a little smug, Yoongi settles in his chair, spreading his legs a little as he gets out his book.
It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to come over, giving them both bright smiles. Yoongi tries to play it cool, getting him casually.
“Nice day to sit outside,” he says.
Hoseok nods, though he looks concerned, eyes dipping to Yoongi’s legs. “It is,” he agrees. “Though… you might want to put on sunscreen.”
Yoongi frowns, looking down to see the tops of his thighs are turning a bright pink. He glances to the side, where a guilty looking Seokjin is pulling what is clearly a bottle of moisturizing lotion and not sunscreen from the bag. “God dammit.”
Giggling, Hoseok wishes him luck before practically skipping away.
Back in their room, Yoongi grumbles at Seokjin, who insists the lotion was a simple mistake, while he rubs aloe into Yoongi’s legs. “It’s not all bad, though,” Seokjin insists.
“Why’s that?” Yoongi asks, unable to see whatever silver lining Seokjin can.
“Well,” he says, flashing Yoongi a smug smile, “this means he couldn’t stop staring at your legs.”
That’s the worst of it, probably, but it doesn’t get much better from there. Every time they run into Hoseok, Yoongi dissolves into a flustered mess. He can feel his cheeks heating, practically hiding behind Seokjin as his tongue curls up in his mouth, unable to string two words together. And all that does is let Seokjin lose with horrible jokes and boat puns, all of which have Hoseok grinning, eyes shining with mirth.
And half the time they run into him, Seokjin is in another one of his ridiculous shirts. Bright ones with parrots on them, giant sunhats and linen pants. Yoongi is going to burn all of them when they get home, maybe strangle Seokjin with one for good measure.
When Yoongi actually does manage to talk to Hoseok, he only ends up embarrassing himself too. They’re at cocktail hour, Seokjin and Namjoon chatting while Yoongi hovers awkwardly beside Seokjin, still glances at Hoseok. After a couple for courage, Yoongi clears his throat, giving Hoseok a small smile.
“Seok-ah,” he begins, pleased with how normal his voice sounds, “can I buy you a drink?”
Hoseok giggles at him, smiling sweetly as he leans in, patting Yoongi’s forearm. “Ah, hyung,” he breathes, his touch is like fire, his hand is so soft, “the drinks are free.”
None of their attempts are successful, though Yoongi is pretty sure Hoseok knows what they’re doing. He’s clearly enjoying it, soaking it up and preening under the attention. Responsive as he lets them make fools of themselves, though he doesn’t get much back. Maybe he just likes to be wanted, maybe he isn’t really interested… or maybe they just need to be more obvious.
---
That night, back in their room, they take out their frustrations on each other. Seokjin is on his knees and elbows, skin glistening with sweat as he moans into a pillow. Yoongi is squeezing into his waist with one hand, holding him hard enough to bruise. He hopes Seokjin will have fingerprints on his skin in the morning, a possessive map of Yoongi’s grip. His other hand is on the back of Seokjin’s neck, pressing him down, holding him against the bed.
Yoongi feels a little wild, teeth gritted and body vibrating with electric pleasure as he snaps his hips. The slap of skin is loud in the room, Yoongi’s hips colliding with Seokjin’s ass, the squelch of too much lube from hasty prep because they were so desperate to fuck. Pistoning his hips, Yoongi relishes the tight coil of pleasure inside of him as Seokjin mewls into the mattress, clenching around his cock. Yoongi grunts, snapping his hips hard as he fills Seokjin up, painting his walls with cum. And Seokjin, with a gasp of Yoongi’s name, comes untouched all over the blankets below him.
“Sorry I was so rough,” Yoongi apologizes as he gently cleans Seokjin up with a wet towel. “You felt so good.”
Seokjin hums, opening his arms. “You know I don’t mind,” he murmurs as Yoongi crawls into his embrace, cuddling against his chest. “I’m just not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”
Chuckling, Yoongi snuggles closer into Seokjin’s arms, tilting his head to connect their lips in a soft kiss. “That’s okay,” Yoongi whispers, nudging their noses together, “I’m sure one of the elder gays will let you borrow their wheelchair.” Seokjin erupts into squeaky laughter, and any lingering frustration fades away.
---
“Do you want to do this?” Yoongi asks, adjusting the collar of Seokjin’s shirt. “We don’t have to do anything.”
Seokjin swallows and nods, mouth shifting into a determined line. “I want to do this,” he insists, catching Yoongi’s hands as Yoongi smooths his lapels. “If you do.”
Yoongi nods back, squeezing Seokjin’s fingers. “Okay. We are two confident -”
“Sexy,” Seokjin cuts in.
“We are two confident, sexy,” Yoongi adds, rolling his eyes, “gay men, and we can do this. We just need to get him alone and then you tell him we’re interested.”
Seokjin blanches a little. “What? Why me?”
“Because, hyung,” Yoongi says, putting emphasis on the honorific, “you’re older.”
It goes well at first. They get to the cocktail hour, down a quick drink each for fortitude and then, second drinks in hand, locate Hoseok. Getting him alone is extremely easy, since Namjoon is nowhere to be found. But then, predictably, Seokjin chokes.
“How can you tell a puffer fish has had too much salt at dinner?” Seokjin asks, smiling widely.
“I don’t know, hyung,” Hoseok replies.
“He looks a little blow-ted, get it?” he finishes, giggling as he finishes the joke.
Hoseok laughs politely and Yoongi considers stabbing his husband with his tiny drink umbrella. This is the fourth - fifth? Fish joke Seokjin has told instead of telling Hoseok they’re interested in him and Yoongi is rapidly losing his will to live.
“Why are fish so lucky?” Seokjin continues, once he stops laughing. “Because they seize every oppor-tuna-ty!”
And that is enough, more than enough. Also maybe the jump start Yoongi needs, because he is absolutely going to seize this tuna - fucking hell - before Seokjin blow (fishes) - he hates his husband - it.
“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi cuts in, straightening his shoulders as Hoseok turns to him with a polite smile. “Seokjin and I are interested in you.”
“Oh my cod,” Seokjin breathes.
Yoongi shoots him a poisonous look before refocusing on Hoseok, whose lips are parted in surprise. “We think you’re beautiful, we still like you.” He licks his lips, fingers tight around his cocktail glass. “We want you.”
Maybe there are better ways to do this, more eloquent ways of inviting a man, a former lover, into their shared bed… but Yoongi is barely hanging on here. At this point he’s just glad he was able to string the words together.
“Well this is surprising,” Hoseok says, looking between them.
Seokjin shifts slightly. “You didn’t think we were interested?”
“Oh, no,” Hoseok corrects with a little laugh. “I knew you were interested. I just thought you’d keep being so embarrassingly cute about it for a little while longer.”
Yoongi can feel his cheeks burning. “I’m sorry this is so forward,” he offers. “I know this is probably weird, you know, that we’re married and we want - well, to sleep with you.”
“It is a little weird,” Hoseok admits. “What a crazy happenstance that my exes ended up together right?” He tilts his head, seeming to consider before a smile stretches his lips into a heart shaped grin. “But I’ve always had excellent taste.”
Beside Yoongi, Seokjin audibly gulps. Yoongi barely resists reaching out and taking his hand.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” Hoseok says with a shrug, “but I’m up for whatever. You’re both still really hot and I’m definitely down to fuck.” His smile widens. “Wanna show me your room?”
---
Miraculously, Yoongi’s confidence lasts the entire walk back to the room. Hoseok walks between them, fingers brushing the back of Yoongi’s hand, sending electricity skittering along his skin. But then the door to the cabin closes behind them and all of Yoongi’s bravado leaps over the balcony and plunges into the sea.
He hovers by the bed, trying not to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, as he tries to plan his next move. Hoseok is looking around the room, smiling pleasantly, appearing perfectly at ease. Logically, Yoongi knows he should have had a plan already, they should have. Yoongi cuts his eyes to Seokjin, who is standing by the door, as if he’s not sure if he should flee. God, does Yoongi look this helpless too?
They talked about this, talked it to death. Far too many conversations about their feelings and emotions and consent. Seokjin got a little teary from the bottle of champagne they had brought to the room when he talked about love and Yoongi absolutely did not cry as well. The champagne conversation had mostly been a wash, but the rest of it had been productive enough. Yoongi never wants to have to talk that much about his feelings again for the rest of their marriage.
Though… well, it was a little nice. Nice to know how secure they are in their relationship and their feelings for each other. Secure enough to invite someone else into their bed, maybe into their relationship. Even someone they both used to, maybe still do, have feelings for. Yoongi did appreciate that aspect of it, and appreciated coming up with a plan of action. But now that they’re actually in the room, now that step one, seducing the bendy twink, has been accomplished, Yoongi is floundering.
“Is this one of the deluxe rooms?” Hoseok asks, startling Yoongi slightly.
Seokjin jumps on the chance to ease some of the awkwardness in the room. “It is, we wanted a balcony cabin and a little more space.”
“Nice,” Hoseok wanders to the glass door, peering out at the balcony. Yoongi follows him with his eyes, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. “Joonie and I barely even have a window,” he laughs. “And the bed in here seems nicer.” He smiles at both of them. “Bigger.”
Big enough for three people , Yoongi wants to say, but his tongue is still refusing to cooperate. Quiet envelopes them again, an awkward tension rippling through the room. It was never this awkward with Hoseok before, never when he and Yoongi were together. But - well, they’re obviously not together now. This is all new ground, a whole different scenario and Yoongi doesn’t know how to act. Maybe Hoseok doesn’t either.
Maybe this was all a mistake, an awkward situation that’s not going to go anywhere. Yoongi doesn’t consider himself particularly shy, but he absolutely does not have the confidence to make the first move. So, they can call it an attempt, just say goodnight and this can be a funny vacation story they can laugh at in five years over a bottle of wine when -
“I think you two should kiss.”
Yoongi whips his head toward the door, eyes fixing on Seokjin. He can barely believe he just heard those words, or that they came from his husband. “Hyung?” Yoongi croaks, tongue finally unraveling. They both want this, he knows that, but he’s still surprised. Surprised by Seokjin’s boldness, the glint in his eyes.
“Go on, baby,” Seokjin encourages. “I want to see how good you two look together.”
A shiver trails down Yoongi’s spine and he opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn’t get the chance. Seokjin’s words seem to be all the encouragement Hoseok needs. He crosses the small distance between them, stalking fluidly across the floor, and pulls Yoongi into a kiss.
Yoongi freezes, he can’t help himself. It’s been - god, he’s not sure, a decade? It must be a decade, maybe more, since he’s kissed anyone else. Anyone other than Seokjin, his husband. Another set of lips on his own feels so strange. They’re not the same plush fullness he’s used to, not the mouth he expects to kiss him. There are hands on him, one on his cheek and another on his hip. They don’t feel like Seokjin’s hands, slimmer fingers, smaller palms. Different, so different, and Yoongi’s brain is buzzing and -
Hoseok must feel his stiffness, sense his indecision. He moves to draw back, the kiss nearly breaking, and Yoongi’s brain finally catches up.
Kissing Hoseok is different from kissing Seokjin, but it’s not unfamiliar. Yoongi remembers the feeling of Hoseok’s lips, the feeling of his hands. Remembers the way Hoseok’s body felt against his own. With a gasp, Yoongi lifts his arms, fisting his hands in the front of Hoseok’s shirt and dragging him back in. He tilts his head, slotting their mouths more firmly together.
They melt together easily, Hoseok’s palm cradling Yoongi’s jaw, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Hoseok’s lips are warm and soft, and when he parts them, slipping his tongue into Yoongi’s mouth, he tastes like coconut and mint. It’s easy for Yoongi to lose himself in the sensation of kissing Hoseok, like slipping into a memory, putting on a favorite sweater.
It feels good, feels right, warmth blossoming in Yoongi’s chest. Their lips slide together so naturally, heads tilting and noses brushing. Like an old dance Yoongi remembers, things falling back into place. Something that Yoongi maybe didn’t realize he was missing, finally returned to him.
They break apart slowly, Yoongi breathing heavily, his mind spinning with nostalgia and heat. There’s a prickling beneath his skin, a longing for more, an urge to touch and be touched. But not just by Hoseok.
Yoongi turns to Seokjin, Hoseok’s hand slipping from his cheek to his shoulder, still holding him there. Seokjin is watching them, lips slightly parted, eyes hooded. He doesn’t look jealous, not at all. Just the opposite.
“Now you should kiss,” Yoongi rasps, staring into his husband’s dark eyes. “The two of you.”
They meet in the middle of the room, Seokjin moving from the door to meet Hoseok near the end of the bed. Yoongi watches, entranced, as they come together, Hoseok’s arms around Seokjin’s neck, Seokjin’s around Hoseok’s waist. Their lips meet and Yoongi thinks he should feel jealous, thinks he should hate it. But he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter.
He sinks onto the edge of the bed, fingers idly twisting into the blankets as he watches his husband kiss another man. As he watches his husband kiss his ex-boyfriend. And Yoongi likes it. He can see it, hear the press and give of their mouths. Heat flares inside of him and he can feel his shorts growing tight, the urge to touch spiraling higher as their tongues slide wetly together.
When they pull apart, Yoongi finds that he’s leaning forward, lips slightly parted, as if entranced. They both turn to look at him, slick lips and lust clouded eyes, and Yoongi has to fight down a whimper. “You’re both so hot,” he croaks.
Hoseok laughs, bubbly and warm. “And you’re not?” he teases. “I don’t want to be the only one not getting a show.” He waves a hand between them. “Come on, I know what you’re both like separately, let me see you together.”
Yoongi is about to say that he’s absolutely not an exhibitionist, thank you very much (a lie), but Seokjin is already moving. He barely has time to inhale before Seokjin is planting a knee on the bed beside Yoongi’s thigh and crashing their mouths together. A desperate kiss, eager and hungry, no softness to it as Seokjin pries his lips open and presses his tongue inside. The taste of strawberries is on Seokjin’s tongue, mixing with the coconut and mint of Hoseok’s mouth.
The combination has Yoongi moaning, unable to help himself.
A huff of a laugh, Seokjin smiling against Yoongi’s lips, is all the warning he has, before his husband is pushing him back onto the mattress. Seokjin follows him down, the bed shifting with his weight as he climbs over Yoongi, nipping at his lips. The mattress shifts again and Yoongi breaks the kiss, turning his head to see Hoseok kneeling beside him. Yoongi doesn’t pause to think, arm snapping out to grab Hoseok by the collar of his shirt and yank him into a messy kiss.
They wind up in a tangle on the bed, and Yoongi is, once again, thankful they sprang for an upgrade. In a bed that is big enough for three, they can roll around and kiss and touch without worry of tumbling onto the floor. Though, he thinks with how close all of them are, clearly desperate for every bit of contact they can get, there’s no way any of them could wriggle away.
Hands and mouths are everywhere, Yoongi unbuttoning Seokjin’s shirt as he mouths at Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok sucking on Seokjin’s tongue as he tries to undo the fastenings of Yoongi’s shorts. It’s a little maddening, Yoongi’s fingers feeling so clumsy, too distracted by fingers slipping beneath his clothes, by lips and teeth on his skin. His shirt disappears over his head and there’s suddenly a mouth on his chest, Hoseok’s teeth closing around his nipple as Seokjin pulls Hoseok’s pants off.
A whirlwind, really, a maelstrom of thrown clothes and desperate kisses. Yoongi can’t entirely tell whose hands are on his body as he tries to squirm out of his briefs. So much warm skin, when they’re all finally bare, feverishly hot. Hands everywhere, squeezing and groping. On his ass, his cock, sliding along his ribs and teasing his nipples.
They roll on the bed, Yoongi landing on his side, pressed tight to Hoseok, rutting shamelessly against his hip. Seokjin is on Hoseok’s other side, the two of them kissing, wet and dirty, tongues a messy tangle between them. Yoongi tries to wrap his arm around both of them, nosing into Hoseok’s neck and nibbling at his throat.
The kiss breaks with a pop and Yoongi drags himself away from Hoseok’s collarbone to see the two of them panting against each other’s lips. Hoseok turns his head, slick lips already parted in invitation, and Yoongi tilts toward him, pressing their mouths together. Yoongi is so hard already, smearing the stickiness of his precum along Hoseok’s thigh as he squirms against him.
“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, and the bed shifts again.
Yoongi pulls back from the kiss to see Seokjin leaning on one elbow, staring down at the two of them. His face is flushed, lips slick and swollen, pupils blown so his eyes look nearly black. “You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Seokjin says, nodding. “Definitely okay.” He gives a lopsided grin and Hoseok laughs breathlessly, hand skating down Yoongi’s back to squeeze his ass. Seokjin turns his attention fully to Hoseok. “What do you want, Seok-ah?”
“Me?” Hoseok blinks, glancing between them. “I thought this was a you thing.”
“It’s an us thing,” Yoongi insists. “For all of us.”
Seokjin nods, his fingers tracing teasing patterns over Hoseok’s hip. “So tell us what you want to do, Hobi.”
“Okay.” Hoseok licks his lips, cheeks a little pink. “I want Seokjin hyung to fuck me.”
“I can do -”
“And,” Hoseok cuts Seokjin off, “I want Yoongi hyung’s tongue.”
“Oh.” Seokjin’s smile is almost predatory. “We can definitely do that.”
The whirlwind happens again, hands and mouths and breathless laughter. Everything flips and tilts and suddenly Yoongi is flat on his back on the bed. Seokjin is between his spread thighs, pressing two slicked fingers into him and Yoongi is trying very hard to concentrate and not lose himself in the sensation of his husband teasing his prostate.
He has more important things to worry about.
Like Hoseok sitting on his face.
Yoongi prides himself on being a generous lover, on always satisfying his husband in bed. And before his husband, it was boyfriends and hookups and whoever else. Before Seokjin, it was Hoseok for a little while. So despite the pleasure his husband is bringing him as he stretches him open with deft fingers, Yoongi tries to focus on Hoseok.
Hoseok’s lean, tan thighs are on either side of Yoongi’s head, knees pressed against his shoulders. He supports himself with one hand planted on the bed, the other on Seokjin’s shoulder, though Yoongi can still feel his thighs trembling. Yoongi tries to ease some of the weight, holding Hoseok steady with his palms on his ass cheeks.
Though that’s a little selfish too, not just to hold him up. This way, gripping Hoseok’s perky ass, Yoongi can press his thumbs into the cleft of his ass and spread him open, leaving Hoseok’s hole on display. Hoseok said he wanted Yoongi’s tongue, and Yoongi will happily give it to him.
The sound Hoseok makes as Yoongi licks a stripe over his entrance goes straight to Yoongi’s cock. His toes curl, hole clenching around Seokjin’s fingers. Tightening his grip on Hoseok’s skin, Yoongi arches his neck a little for a better angle, eager to hear that sound again.
Yoongi is good with his tongue, he knows he is. He pulls out all his best tricks now, feeling a little like he needs to show off, or maybe he just wants to. There’s nothing really to prove, but Yoongi isn’t going to squander this opportunity. Flexing his tongue, Yoongi circles Hoseok’s rim, teasing over the sensitive muscle to hear the man above him whine.
“Hyung,” Hoseok breathes, rocking forward a little, pressing his ass further into Yoongi’s face.
Pleasure tightens low in Yoongi’s belly at the sound of Hoseok’s voice. So affected already and Yoongi’s barely started. His reaction, combined with the way Seokjin is scissoring his fingers, has Yoongi’s cock leaking onto his belly. It aches, twitching with every teasing curl of Seokjin’s digits, but Yoongi knows if either of them were to touch him, he wouldn’t last.
He tries to focus instead, to pull Hoseok closer and hear those breathy moans again. Yoongi alternates broad strokes of his tongue with small flicks, teasing curls that have Hoseok clenching and groaning above him. Pursing his lips, Yoongi sucks greedily at Hoseok’s rim, feeling drool slip down his chin and the curve of his jaw.
“Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin calls, voice low and deep, affected. The fingers inside of him still and Yoongi grunts, not wanting to pull back from where his tongue is swirling complicated figure eights between Hoseok’s cheeks. “Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin repeats. “Take the lube.”
Reluctantly, Yoongi peels a hand away from Hoseok’s skin, holding it out palm up. A bottle is placed in his hand, fingers brushing his own, and then Seokjin is pulling away. His hand lands on Yoongi’s hip, as the other shifts, Seokjin’s fingers withdrawing from him. But before Yoongi can protest, Seokjin is pressing three slicked fingers back into him. Yoongi groans, a shudder going through him as pleasure licks down his spine, before he returns his attention to Hoseok.
The sounds Hoseok made on Yoongi’s tongue were wonderful, but they’re nothing compared to the sounds he makes when Yoongi gets his fingers in him too. Hoseok opens up easily, already relaxed from Yoongi’s tongue, body eagerly swallowing up Yoongi’s questing digits. Two fingers in, Yoongi presses kisses to Hoseok’s skin, nipping at the curve of his ass.
“Yeobo.” Seokjin again. “You ready?”
“Ready,” Yoongi croaks. “Come on, hyung.” His body is buzzing with pleasure, overstimulated in all the best ways.
“Both of you come on,” Hoseok says, a teasing edge to his voice. “Yoongi hyung isn’t even using his tongue anymore.”
The emptiness when Seokjin withdraws his fingers has Yoongi biting back a whimper, hole clenching around nothing. Yoongi hears the tearing of a condom wrapper but he can’t see what Seokjin’s doing. The anticipation makes him shiver, but he ignores it to rub his thumb over Hoseok’s skin in a soothing brush. “Hyung is sorry,” Yoongi replies. “I’ll make it up to you in a minute.”
The press of Seokjin’s cock is familiar, Yoongi used to the pressure, the fullness as Seokjin sinks into him. But it doesn’t make it any less overwhelming, doesn’t make it feel any less amazing. He loves the way his husband fills him, the way he takes care of him. Though Yoongi knows this will make it even harder to keep stretching Hoseok. Yoongi feels a little like he’s doing the most work, but he’s definitely not complaining. He breathes through the stretch, Seokjin’s hands holding his hips, until they’re fully connected.
“Okay?” Seokjin asks a few moments later, palms smoothing over Yoongi’s hips.
Yoongi lets out a shaky breath against Hoseok’s skin, feeling the other man shiver above him. “I’m good, hyung,” he rasps. “You can move.”
The pace Seokjin sets is languid, slow rolls of his hips that have his cock dragging along Yoongi’s walls. He pulls out nearly all the way before pressing back in, deep and deliberate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Yoongi’s body.
Matching the pace of his fingers to Seokjin’s thrusts, Yoongi begins stretching Hoseok open again. He strokes along Hoseok’s walls, feeling the velvet heat squeezing him as Hoseok presses back to meet every thrust of his fingers. Licking his lips, Yoongi leans in to add his tongue. Hoseok groans, tipping forward as Yoongi slides his tongue in alongside his fingers, thrusting it along with them.
Yoongi hears the sound of mouths meeting, hears Seokjin moan, knows they must be kissing. Electric sparks shoot through him at the thought, his hand flexing where it still holds Hoseok spread open. Seokjin’s own hands tighten on Yoongi’s hips, hitching them up a little higher and the angle changes, causing Yoongi to hiccup out a groan.
He lets his head fall back to the pillows, sliding in a third finger to replace his tongue as he tries to breathe. Pleasure coils low in his belly as Seokjin thrusts into him, and the sight above him doesn’t help. Hoseok is leaning forward, ass pressed back and hole eagerly swallowing Yoongi’s fingers. If Yoongi tilts his head he can just barely see Seokjin, see the press of their mouths and wet tangle of their tongues.
“Fuck,” Yoongi murmurs under his breath. He doesn’t even want to blink, doesn’t want to miss a second of this.
But Hoseok is groaning, pulling away from Seokjin with a pop. He gasps, squeezing around Yoongi’s fingers. “Ah, hyung,” he rasps. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop."
Hoseok shifts on top of him and Yoongi moves his hand to Hoseok’s hip, supporting him as he tries to rise. He gently slips the fingers of his other hand from Hoseok’s hole, petting over his stretched rim as Hoseok hisses, shivering and clenching when Yoongi’s fingertips leave him. He topples over onto his side, breathing heavily as he flops beside Yoongi on the mattress.
Privately, Yoongi preens a little at the thought that he almost made Hoseok come just from his tongue and fingers.
But he doesn’t have much time to dwell on that, not when Seokjin is dragging Yoongi closer. His hands tighten on Yoongi’s hips, tugging him up onto his thighs for a better angle and Yoongi groans, hands scrabbling at the blankets. It’s his turn to gasp, eyes closing, as Seokjin picks up his pace.
One of Seokjin’s hands slides along Yoongi’s leg, gripping his thigh to press it up and out. The angle deepens and Yoongi moans as the thrust of Seokjin’s cock brushes his prostate on every stroke. Seokjin doesn’t seem to want to hold back now, or maybe he’s not able to, snapping his hips into Yoongi’s body, the slap of skin loud in the room. Each breathy grunt from Seokjin’s lips has Yoongi’s belly clenching, his breath hitching in his chest.
“You’re so hot together,” Hoseok murmurs.
Yoongi blinks open his eyes, turning his head to find Hoseok kneeling beside him down, hard cock leaking between his thighs. He’s watching the two of them, eyes sweeping over their bodies, from Seokjin’s face, down his chest, to where they connect, then over Yoongi until their eyes meet.
“Seok-ah,” Yoongi breathes, “kiss me.”
The sweet smile on Hoseok’s lips as he leans in to capture Yoongi’s mouth is almost overwhelming in itself. The kiss is clumsy, at least on Yoongi’s end. He feels nearly overcome, trying to focus and hold himself back for so long to take care of Hoseok has him all wound up. Now that he can give into the pleasure, let himself truly feel everything, he feels like he might explode. Seokjin is pistoning his hips, hands tight on Yoongi’s body to hold him in place, to give him just the right angle. Every thrust of Seokjin’s hips is like fire, reaching deep inside of him to stoke a burning flame.
Hoseok’s lips only fan it higher, his tongue slipping past Yoongi’s teeth to lick into his mouth. Warm fingers trail down Yoongi’s chest, teasing along his belly. His stomach clenches and he whines into the kiss, tingles of pleasure spreading out from every contact point. Hoseok’s slim fingers wrap around Yoongi’s cock and he jerks, arching into the touch. It barely takes anything at all, Yoongi’s cock, already sticky with precum, throbs in Hoseok’s grasp, and he tumbles over the edge.
Yoongi comes with a muffled cry, body trembling and everything going fuzzy behind his eyelids. Pleasure washes through him, pulling from the tips of his fingers and toes to crash into him. Seokjin slows his pace, working Yoongi slowly over the edge as Hoseok milks his cock, kissing him through it.
When he’s shivering from oversensitivity, Hoseok releases his cock, stroking Yoongi’s hair off his forehead with his other hand. He kisses him gently, lazily, until Seokjin shifts and Yoongi flinches slightly. Hoseok sits up, carding his fingers through Yoongi’s sweaty hair.
“Sorry Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin murmurs. “I’ve got you.” Soothed by Seokjin’s comforting words, Yoongi only whines slightly when his husband pulls out, his hole feeling sensitive and overused. Hoseok presses a kiss to his forehead and Yoongi melts into the mattress, trying to get his heart rate back under control.
The bed dips, jostling Yoongi a little and he turns his head to see Seokjin moving to sit beside him. He props himself against the headboard with his thighs spread. Even as hazy as he is in the afterglow of his orgasm, Yoongi can see that Seokjin is still hard, tugging off the condom and reaching for another foil packet.
“Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin says, voice a low purr, “are you still a dancer?”
On Yoongi’s other side, Hoseok shifts from where he’d idly been petting Yoongi’s hair, sitting up straighter and nodding. “Yes, hyung.”
“Good,” Seokjin continues. “Hyung remembers all your core strength, those strong legs. Come show Yoongi how well you can ride me?”
Hoseok grins, dipping down to peck Yoongi’s lips before climbing nimbly over him to get to Seokjin. Yoongi watches, eyes wide as Hoseok settles himself in Seokjin’s lap. It is - it’s a very pretty sight. Yoongi likes the way they look together, how Hoseok rests his hands on Seokjin’s broad shoulders, how Seokjin brings his hands to Hoseok’s waist.
God , when did his husband’s stamina get like this? Must be the vacation, the fresh sea air and relaxing atmosphere. Or… maybe it’s Hoseok… Something Yoongi thinks he might be able to relate to. For as spent as he is, Yoongi can feel his cock responding to the sight of them together. There’s a stirring of heat low in his belly as Seokjin lines his cock up with Hoseok’s hole.
They’ve talked about threesomes before, Yoongi has considered the possibility of watching his husband fuck another man. It intrigued him, made him feel a little hot under the collar. But this is not a random stranger from a club, this is a man they both know, intimately. There’s something different in the fact that it’s Hoseok.
And yet… there’s no jealousy there, only a surprising urge for more. He wants more of this, and doesn’t want this to be the only time.
Seokjin throws his head back against the pillow of pillows behind him as Hoseok begins to move. It’s obvious Hoseok is a dancer, spine arched and thighs flexing as he lifts off Seokjin’s lap only to drop back down. He starts slow at first, swiveling his hips in tantalizing circles that make Yoongi feel a little dizzy.
Every roll of Hoseok’s hips has Yoongi’s mouth filling with saliva, his cock stirring between his legs. Seokjin slides his hands from Hoseok’s hips up to his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. Yoongi can hear the clack of their teeth as their mouths connect, the wet slide of their tongues visible as their heads tilt. He feels like a voyeur, eyes wide as he stares at the scene beside him, unable to look away.
They’re gorgeous together, Seokjin broad and strong, Hoseok lean and slight against him. A good match, like Seokjin and Yoongi are. Like Yoongi and Hoseok are. Like all three of them could be together. The thought has Yoongi’s belly swooping, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
Hoseok shifts, planting his knees more firmly on the bed, and the kiss breaks as Seokjin groans. He pulls back panting, a sheen of sweat on his furrowed brow. Yoongi can imagine how on edge he must be, holding himself back to make sure both he and Hoseok are sated. Seokjin’s hands slide back down to Hoseok’s hips as Hoseok begins lifting higher on his lap, Seokjin’s cock sliding further out of him before he lowers back down. Definitely a dancer, with the way Hoseok moves with ease, setting a pace that would have Yoongi’s thighs cramping in no time.
By the time Hoseok is fully bouncing on Seokjin’s cock, Yoongi is fully hard again. He can’t resist touching himself, wrapping a hand around his sticky cock as he watches Seokjin mouth at Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok’s head is thrown back, the column of his throat on display, already darkened with bruises. Yoongi’s eyes drift down, landing on where they’re connected. He watches the slide of Seokjin’s cock into Hoseok’s hole, the way Hoseok takes him so easily, puffy rim stretched tight.
Yoongi is moving before he’s really thinking about what he’s doing. He shifts onto his belly, worming his way between Seokjin’s spread thighs and bringing himself eye level with where their bodies connect. Yoongi licks his lips, grinding his hard cock into the bed as he watches Hoseok’s hole clench around Seokjin’s cock from centimeters away.
He can’t help himself, can’t hold himself back when he leans in.
“Jesus fuck,” Seokjin curses, entire body jerking and thighs tensing. “Yoongi!”
Yoongi only hums happily, rocking his hips into the bed as he mouths at Seokjin’s balls. The angle is a little off, his neck twinging a little, but Yoongi doesn’t care. He sucks at the sensitive skin, sticking out his tongue to lap at Seokjin’s balls, lick at the base of his cock just below the condom.
“Yoongi,” Seokjin rasps, “holy shit.”
Hoseok hasn’t stopped moving, only turning his head back to watch Yoongi with blown pupils. “Fuck,” he croaks. “Hyung.”
Yoongi moves in closer, sliding his tongue along the hard length of Seokjin’s cock as Hoseok lifts again. When he lowers back down, Yoongi shifts to lap at his rim. The noise Hoseok makes sounds almost pained. His entire body rocks forward, tensing up before he seems to melt, his hole clenching around Seokjin’s cock as Yoongi teases along the ring of muscle. It’s slick with lube, stretched so taut, the muscle clenching as Yoongi sucks at it. Hoseok is cursing under his breath, trembling until Yoongi finally pulls back, mouth drifting back down to Seokjin’s balls.
Heat pools in Yoongi’s belly, pleasure coiling tight as he ruts against the mattress. He curls his fingers around Seokjin’s thighs as Hoseok starts moving again, fucking himself down onto Seokjin’s cock. Yoongi keeps his mouth there, tonguing at Seokjin’s cock, licking at Hoseok’s rim. He laps desperately at where they connect every time Hoseok drops back down.
Time seems to snap, Hoseok chasing his release, bouncing on Seokjin’s cock, moaning high and needy as Seokjin curses, thighs tensing. Seokjin comes first, a ragged moan spilling from his lips as his hips jerk and twitch, filling the condom. He grabs Hoseok by the back of the neck, dragging him into a kiss as his other hand finds Hoseok’s cock. Hoseok jolts, hole clenching around the tip of Yoongi’s tongue, and he tips of the edge as well, keening as his body tenses.
A second orgasm crashes into Yoongi almost unexpectedly. He knew he was close, but he was so lost in sensation that it seems to sneak up on him. His hips grind into the mattress and Yoongi groans, burying his face against Seokjin’s thigh as he spills onto the blankets, feeling blissed out and filthy and so good.
---
Yoongi is not entirely sure his legs will ever work again. Though, after two mind blowing orgasms, Yoongi’s content to never move for the rest of his life. They all lie sprawled on the bed together, a sweaty, sticky tangle of limbs on the mattress that Yoongi can barely distinguish from his own.
With a groan, Yoongi rolls onto his side and flops an arm over the edge of the bed, fingers feeling along the floor. When they catch on fabric, he drags his arm back up, bringing one of Seokjin’s colorful Hawaiian shirts with it.
Shakily, Yoongi props himself on one hand and cleans the three of them up. He doesn’t do a great job of it, but it gets the worst of the cum and lube off them. Hoseok squirms as Yoongi rubs the fabric over his skin, soothing him with gentle words as he cleans him up. Yoongi is less gentle with his husband, pointedly ignoring Seokjin’s protests about Yoongi ruining his favorite shirt.
After a cursory wipe down of his own skin that he knows isn’t nearly enough, Yoongi tosses the shirt away and flops back down. He wiggles around, fitting himself against Seokjin’s side and curling against him, resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. With a hum, Seokjin curls an arm around him, turning his head to press a kiss to Yoongi’s forehead. Comforting and warm, just what Yoongi needs when he feels spent and sated, and maybe a little overwhelmed.
On Seokjin’s other side, Hoseok sits up, running a hand through his sweaty blonde hair and glancing over at them. The expression on his face is odd, one Yoongi isn’t sure he’s seen before. Uncertainty and nervousness, mixed with something that looks a little like longing. Hoseok licks his lips, eyes cutting away. “I should probably go…”
“You should stay,” Seokjin says immediately, surprising both himself and Yoongi. He turns to Yoongi as soon as he says it, eyes wide and searching. This is not entirely something they discussed, not this far. Not this eventuality.
But Yoongi smiles, giving Seokjin a tiny nod. Lifting his head from Seokjin’s shoulder, Yoongi directs his smile at Hoseok now. “Come here, Hoba.”
There’s a moment of hesitation, but then Hoseok smiles back, lying down and cuddling against Seokjin’s other side. Seokjin seems pleased, wrapping his other arm around Hoseok as Yoongi curls an arm over both of them, palm resting on Hoseok’s hip.
They haven’t really talked about this, but it’s obvious how Seokjin feels, clear it’s the same as how Yoongi feels. Like maybe this could be something they could explore, to see where things go.
“You’re back in Korea now?” Yoongi asks.
“Yeah,” Hoseok responds. “I moved back a couple years ago. I live in Seoul, work as a choreographer for an entertainment company.”
“And you’re single?” Seokjin asks.
“Yes,” Hoseok responds. “And you’re married.” It’s not a question.
Yoongi licks his lips and lifts onto his elbow, glancing down at his husband. He gives Seokjin a searching look, finding nothing but open, fond affection in his eyes. “Sometimes… Seokjin makes a lot more dinner than the two of us can eat,” Yoongi begins. He turns his gaze to Hoseok. “He’s awful at measuring things.”
Seokjin snorts but he doesn’t argue. “And sometimes our big king sized bed just feels too big.”
There’s a beat of silence where Hoseok stares between them, looking surprised and, maybe, hopeful.
“Maybe when we’re back in Seoul, you’d like to… come over?” Yoongi suggests.
“For more of this?” Hoseok asks. “I’m not complaining, it’s just not really what I’m looking for long term.”
Seokjin sits up slightly now, shaking his head. “No, for dinner. With us. Just dinner.”
“Maybe we could all get to know each other again?” Yoongi offers with a smile.
Hoseok’s answering smile is enough of a response, especially when he pulls them both in, kissing them each soundly on the mouth. Aa they all cuddle back together, a fuzzy warmth blooms in Yoongi’s belly, butterflies fluttering at the prospect of what the future could hold.