Archive of Our Own

There are many different ways to deal with stress.

Some people prefer to try and sleep it away, forget about their feelings until they wake up again. Others like to drink it away in a bar and maybe go home with someone before the night is over. There are also those who choose to bury themselves in a good book, maybe a video game or even a TV show that they can binge and forget about the world for a good couple of hours.

Namjoon is definitely a mixture of all of them.

Although, drinking was normally a last resort because one, it wasn’t good for him if he wanted to drink so much, and two… The people he went home with were never really any good. Sure, sometimes they were just so drunk that they couldn’t even keep the mood going, but during the other times, the sex was never any good, never lasted long enough for Namjoon.

Most of the time, when he was able to, he would find a new show to watch and binge it. Or he would put on one he had watched so many times before and could easily fall asleep to. It was a good way to deal with things, it was healthy… ish. Healthier than drinking and taking random people home, that was for sure. Safer too.

But then he found Min fucking Yoongi, and everything changed for him.

Which, to be fair, was Hoseok’s fault. He had told him he was having trouble sleeping due to how stressed he was because he’s his best friend, and that’s what best friends do, that’s the kind of things they talk about. What best friends don’t talk about — or don’t usually talk about, as far as Namjoon is concerned — is calling a hotline. A sex hotline, to be more specific. At first Namjoon thought he was joking, but he went into a lot of detail about the hotline that he would only know if he used it himself.

Not only did he go into detail, but he also spoke very highly about someone called Jimin, and Namjoon hadn’t really wanted to know more so he stopped him quickly. But Hoseok still sent him the number later that night because, “It could help you release some tension for you to sleep.”

Namjoon, of course, caved.

He told himself he didn’t really have to do anything, he could probably just talk to whoever ended up on the other line. He tried to keep telling himself that when someone named Yoongi had answered, and even when he had gotten so hot and bothered by his voice alone, Namjoon still tried to keep telling himself that. It all went out the window when Yoongi made him come just by talking to him.

It was sort of embarrassing that his first time trying it, he came almost instantly just from some dirty talk. Needless to say, he was definitely hooked, and it was all because of Yoongi.

(Maybe Yoongi eventually gets ‘addicted’ too because a little while later, when Hoseok and Jimin finally met in person and Hoseok introduced them, Jimin had said. “Oh right, hyung’s favorite customer,” and handed him his phone number because Yoongi wanted him to have it.)

It’s been almost a year now, and it’s sort of becoming their thing. It’s become a routine for them whenever Namjoon is stressed because Yoongi has made it clear many times that he’s more than happy to help him, and Namjoon knows that despite it being Yoongi’s job, he doesn’t mean just by helping him get off — they’ve been talking long enough now for them to have gotten pretty close.

As close as they can get through a phone, at least.

That’s why when Namjoon walks into his apartment tonight and toes off his shoes, the first thing he does is grab his phone from his pocket. He’s on autopilot as he swipes up and presses Yoongi’s name that’s at the top of his contacts list, walking down the hallway to the living room, and plopping down onto the couch. Except, Yoongi doesn’t answer, and Namjoon can’t help but pout.

Sure, Yoongi doesn’t always have his phone with him and Namjoon knows that he’s a busy person too, that he’s not his only ‘customer’, so he shouldn’t be upset. But he kind of is, and it's not just because he needs to get rid of his stress from the day by jerking off and would rather do it listening to Yoongi’s voice. It’s because Yoongi helps calm him, helps keep him out of his mind. He huffs softly, placing his phone on the coffee table and grabbing the TV remote to find something to watch; although in the end he puts on something he’s already watched so many times.

Honestly, it doesn’t really take him long to zone out once he’s lying down on the couch, listening to the sounds of the show mixed with the busy streets outside. He’s also trying to figure out what his neighbors are bickering about now. While people yelling would cause Namjoon more stress, and sometimes even anxiety, his neighbors are actually entertaining.

Sometimes he just listens to them because their arguments are just so stupid. He remembers one time where one of them had gotten so angry over snacks that had suddenly disappeared only to realize they had misplaced them, yet their first instinct was to blame their partner.

Despite their seemingly constant bickering, Namjoon knows they’re in love, and not just because the walls are thin and he hears them at night sometimes.

But he knows because he’s seen them outside as one of them left for work, the other clinging desperately to keep him at home with so much love and adoration in his eyes, that makes Namjoon ache because he wants that. He thought he would have it by now, if he’s being honest.

He wants to be able to come home to someone at the end of the day and he wants to be pulled back into bed in the morning when he should be going to work instead. He wants to bicker about stupid things like snacks and make up for it by doing a sweet gesture. He wants to surprise his partner with a romantic dinner after a long day. He’s thought about it a lot, usually in times like this when he’s zoning out.

However, it’s only recently that he’s started picturing that person as Yoongi, much to his own embarrassment.

Namjoon is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice when his phone starts to ring. To begin with, he actually thinks it’s part of the show still playing on the TV, but then the scene changes and the phone is still ringing, which makes him shoot up far too quickly to grab it. Maybe he’s a little too eager when he sees that it’s Yoongi.

“Hyung.”

“Sorry, I was in the shower.” Yoongi says, and Namjoon knows he’s holding himself back from saying anything about how excited he sounded when he answered. Which is fine, because Namjoon is holding himself back from thinking about Yoongi fresh out of the shower, hair dripping wet with nothing but a towel covering him. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“I know.”

“Stressed?”

Namjoon throws himself back onto the couch with yet another pout. “Is it that obvious?”

Yoongi laughs, and it’s not a mean laugh. No, it’s like he’s endeared. It, unsurprisingly, makes Namjoon relax on the couch. He likes Yoongi’s laugh, maybe just as much as he likes his voice. Maybe more. It makes him feel all warm inside and he always wants to hear more of it.

“We’ve been at this a long time, Joon-ah. I’ve picked up on these things.”

Ah, fuck. There goes Namjoon’s heart, thudding like mad in his chest just from those simple words because it means Yoongi has picked up on the way his voice changes when he’s stressed. When he’s a little more excited — a little more desperate to hear him.

“But,” he clears his throat, which suddenly feels far too dry when he swallows. “Do I really need a reason to call?”

Yoongi hums. “No, I suppose not. But this is my job and you do call for a reason.”

Of course he does. He can’t help himself, and he’s sure Yoongi has had many people who prefer talking to him because he has a very calming voice. For the most part anyway, his tone of voice always changes when he’s talking to Namjoon, telling him so many dirty things in that deep voice of his like he’s right there next to him and able to do them.

The thought forces Namjoon to press his thighs together.

“Speaking of my job, do you know it’s almost been a year, and I’ve never actually seen what you look like.”

“…you never asked.” Namjoon replies, unsure if the phone picks it up with how quietly he says it, but then Yoongi huffs out a ‘true’.

“Well, Namjoon, I’m asking now.”

Namjoon feels too hot because Yoongi’s voice drops an octave lower and God, he fucking knows what it does to him. That’s why he does it. “U-uh, do you want me to send you one I’ve taken before or should I take one right now?”

“You can pick.”

He shifts on the couch, then tells Yoongi to wait a moment as he pulls his phone away from his ear. He brings up his camera app, switches it to the front, and even though he’s embarrassed at the sight of his own flushed face, he still snaps a picture. Maybe he hesitates only a little before he sends it to Yoongi.

“O-okay done.” He puts the phone back to his ear and hears Yoongi hum in response to his words, but other than that, he doesn’t say anything. It sort of fills Namjoon with nerves because he knows Yoongi is still waiting to receive the text. And while Yoongi waits, so does Namjoon, pulling at his tie because with each passing second, he seems to get more and more hot.

“Holy shit.” Yoongi mutters. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Yoongi.” Namjoon whines in embarrassment, but his dick twitches in his pants at the compliment. He kind of wants more. “D-don’t say things like that so suddenly.”

“Sorry, I just— I could tell from your voice that you had to be good looking but I was not expecting that. Fuck.”

Namjoon is so goddamn tempted to hang up the phone because he’s not used to so many compliments, so much praise. Well, from friends and co-workers, sure. But from Yoongi? It’s something new and if he doesn’t stop, Namjoon is so sure he’ll come without even touching himself. So, to distract himself, he asks Yoongi for a picture in return.

Once again, there’s silence between them, other than the occasional crackle of the receiver as Yoongi moves around on the other end. He’s quicker at sending the picture than Namjoon had been, and when he opens the picture, Namjoon feels all of his blood rush south, leaving him to just stare at the selfie dumbly.

He was right about Yoongi only wearing a towel, that’s for sure, and he can’t help but eye over his body because he’s really hot. Really fucking hot, and Namjoon really, really wants to touch him. He wants to kiss him as he runs his hands over his body. He wants to have their bodies pressed so close together as they fuck because God.

Namjoon can just tell that Yoongi would be an amazing fuck.

“You okay?”

Namjoon blinks at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, quickly bringing the phone back up to his ear. “H-huh?”

“You made a noise. Kind of like a—” Namjoon prays for Yoongi not to say it. “—a whimper. Maybe a moan.”

Fuck.

“…I did not.”

“Yes, you did.” There’s that laugh again, but instead of making Namjoon feel relaxed, this time it makes him feel hotter. “Thinking about something in particular? Come on, there’s no secrets between us, you can tell me.”

Namjoon is starting to feel like he’s on fucking fire as he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, so he ends up tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder to get it off quicker, trying not to make any kind of sound when the cool air of his apartment hits his skin. It doesn’t last long, not when Yoongi is on the other end of the call and decides to fucking talk again.

“Thinking about me?” It's a rhetorical question, but Namjoon still makes a small ‘yes’ sound. “But what exactly are you thinking about? Maybe my hands on your body? My lips? My teeth? I’d bet you look so pretty when you’re all marked up, Namjoon.”

“S-so I’ve been told before.”

“I don’t think that’s what you were thinking about though.” Yoongi hums. “Maybe it was the idea of my body pressed against yours, hm? Our bodies pressed together as I fuck you .”

The noise leaves Namjoon before he can stop it, and even though he presses his thighs together to get some kind of friction, he also reaches down to press the palm of his hand against his dick because Yoongi says, “Ah, there we go” in that fucking deep voice. His mind starts to get a little fuzzy with images of Yoongi towering over him, grabbing at his thighs as he fucks him. As he praises him, tells him how good he is.

“Slow down a little, Namjoon. You don’t want it to be over already, do you?”

Yoongi’s voice brings him back and Namjoon is embarrassed to see that he’s rocking against his hand, which, of course, had noises falling from his lips. The teasing lilt in Yoongi’s voice makes him exhale even though he’s heard it so many times before, and he slowly pulls his hand away from his dick.

“Tell me what you want.”

“W-what I want?”

“Yeah. Tell me what you want.” Yoongi repeats, the grin so obvious in his voice even though Namjoon can’t see him. But god, he wishes he could. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Namjoon has never been asked that before but only because Yoongi usually knows what he wants, so it takes him by surprise. He’s quiet for a while, trying to gather his thoughts. “I…I want you to…touch me?”

“Is that a question or a demand?”

“Demand?”

Namjoon chooses to ignore Yoongi’s laugh this time, mostly because it’s followed by the word ‘cute’.

“Well, Namjoon, where do you want me to touch you? Don’t think about it, just say it.”

“E-everywhere.”

“Good boy.” The praise falls from Yoongi so easily, as if he’s said it so many times before, which he probably has. But he’s never said it to Namjoon. He expects Namjoon to keep talking, but when he doesn’t because he’s too embarrassed, Yoongi takes over for him. “Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Every single word. Every thing I ask you to do, I want you to do it.”

Namjoon nods, then remembers Yoongi can’t see it so he quickly forces out a, “Yeah, okay,” which is immediately followed by more praise.

At first, Yoongi asks him simple questions, if he’s okay, if he’s comfortable, and of course — the most important thing — asking him to please tell him if he wants to stop. Namjoon answers back with a yes every time, until Yoongi asks if he’s naked.

Honestly, Namjoon considers not answering him at all just because of how embarrassed he is. But then his mind supplies images of Yoongi in his towel and it would only be fair if Yoongi had those thoughts to think about too. “Um,” he shuffles around, pushing down his pants and boxers with some difficulty since he’s using only one hand. “I…I am now.”

“Okay. Touch yourself for me.” Namjoon is far too eager to reach for his aching cock, and as if knowing this, Yoongi continues. “Anywhere but your dick.”

“Hyung.” Namjoon protests, yet he still does it. Because he wants to please Yoongi. Because he wants to be praised again. Not only that, but it helps to release some of the tension as he starts to stroke his chest. People like his chest. He’s had people jerk off on his chest before, and he idly wonders if Yoongi would do the same.

If he would pin him down and straddle him just so he could paint his chest white with his cum.

Although, if he’s being honest, he would rather him cum on his face because he likes facials. Embarrassing, yes, but he fucking loves them — he loves when people make a mess of him, and if Yoongi wants to be one of those people, he will happily get to his knees and let him.

A shaky moan leaves him as he pinches down on one of his nipples, and he thinks he hears Yoongi curse, but he can’t be too sure. It could just be his mind supplying it for him.

“Where are you touching?”

“M-my chest.”

“Are you sensitive there?”

“…a little.” He admits, moving his hand over to give his other nipple some attention, tugging and pinching, and maybe imagining it’s Yoongi’s hands because he can’t fucking help himself. “M-my thighs are more sensitive.”

“Yeah?” There’s movement on the other end, and Namjoon hopes that it’s because Yoongi is getting turned on. He fucking prays. “Touch your thighs for me, baby.”

Baby is also new and it has Namjoon’s mind fucking reeling . But he still forces himself to listen to Yoongi, to do as he’s told, and he moves his hand down to his thighs. He drags his nails lightly over his skin, letting out a soft moan of ‘fuck’ as he does so, head dropping back against the couch.

He’s not sure what it is that gives him confidence for the next few minutes, maybe it’s the fact that he hears Yoongi inhaling sharply, maybe it’s the constant praise that he receives. Either way, Namjoon doesn’t think when he says, “Hyung, can you touch yourself too?”

“W-what?”

It takes Yoongi by surprise simply because he’s never been asked to do that before, not even by Namjoon. His job is to help others get off, not to get off himself. Even though he has ended his calls with Namjoon and been so achingly hard he feels like he’ll explode. But he’s never gotten off while actually talking to him.

“Y’know…j-jerk off with me.”

“Namjoon, I—”

“Please.”

There’s silence and Namjoon waits with bated breath for some kind of answer, but then he hears more movement, like Yoongi’s trying to get comfortable, then there’s the tell-tale sign of a cap being opened and Namjoon knows that it’s lube. It makes a heat pool in his gut and he really wants to be there to watch Yoongi as he slicks up his dick so it’s easier for him to get off.

It’s somewhat easier to imagine when Yoongi groans, and Namjoon is so desperate to hear more. He’s never heard him like that before, but god, he really wants more. He wants him to keep making those noises, preferably while he’s above him. Or behind him. Or even fucking his throat — he doesn’t care, as long as he keeps making them.

Namjoon considers touching his own dick again, but Yoongi told him not to and he really wants to be a good boy for him. Even if Yoongi wouldn’t be able to see it, he would probably be able to tell from his moans.

So instead, he focuses on his thighs. He digs his nails in a little deeper as he drags them again, leaving red lines in their wake. He pinches at the skin and pretends that it’s Yoongi’s teeth. He grabs and kneads at them so he can pretend that Yoongi is pushing them further apart to fuck him.

All that’s on his mind is Yoongi.

Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi—

“Yoongi.” He forces out without even a single thought, and maybe he’ll be embarrassed about it later when he realizes what he’s done, but all he can think about now is how it makes Yoongi let out a string of curses.

“Namjoon,” he hisses, maybe it’s a warning, but Namjoon simply keens at the way he sounds. “T-talk to me — god, what are you thinking about?”

“Y-you.” There’s no hesitation at all, and that makes Yoongi grip his phone until his knuckles turn white. Kim Namjoon is going to be the fucking death of him. “Wondering w-what it would feel like if you fucked my thighs.”

“Yeah?”

Namjoon exhales heavily as he inches closer to his own dick. “Y-yeah, I can,” he darts his tongue out to wet his lips. “I can cum from it.”

“Oh, you’re that sensitive.”

He’s teasing again, Namjoon knows he is, but his mind is starting to get cloudy and he can’t think of the right words even though he wants to keep talking to Yoongi, wants to tell him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking of. Which he supposes is fine because he’s happy to just let Yoongi talk to him, tell him he’s a good boy, tell him he sounds amazing, tell him that he would love to fuck his thighs until he makes a mess.

His words make pre-cum dribble from the head of Namjoon’s aching cock, and despite what he was told, he has to grab the base to keep himself from coming then and there.

Namjoon sort of wants to get up and grab the lube from his bedroom so he can jerk off easier, and maybe so he can fuck himself with his fingers while Yoongi listens. But he also doesn’t want to stop what he’s doing.

For the most part, he’s really just listening to Yoongi because he’s stopped talking and instead is letting out low moans mixed with grunts and occasionally his name. Namjoon wants to see him, wants to watch him, wants to feel him.

Never in his life has he felt more desperate to have someone fuck him.

“H-hyung,” he chokes out, swiping his thumb over the head of his dick, his hips jerking. “Can I—”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Yoongi’s voice is breathy, and it makes Namjoon fucking swoon. “T-touch yourself.”

Namjoon is pleased at the permission and he starts to stroke himself slowly. However, that’s not what he was going to ask for, so he soon speaks again, even if he has to really force the words out. “N-no, I… I wanted a picture?”

“A picture?”

“O-of your dick.”

Yoongi laughs again and it makes Namjoon feel a little ashamed this time. Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to linger on it because moments later, his phone is pinging to let him know that he has a message. He tries not to act too excited when he sees that it’s from Yoongi, but that gets harder to do when he realizes it’s not a picture, it’s a goddamn video.

Only a couple of seconds long, but that’s enough for Namjoon to see the way he twists his wrist on every upstroke. How he has pre-cum between his fingers. How he looks so painfully hard and Namjoon wants nothing more than to help him.

Namjoon can’t help but wonder how it would feel in his mouth, resting hot and heavy against his tongue as he lets Yoongi fuck his mouth. Or how it would feel between his thighs, pressed against his own dick to get friction. Or inside of him. Fucking him open with his fingers first, stretching his hole to accommodate his size because he’s big. He can tell from the video that he keeps watching over and over again. He wonders if Yoongi would take him bareback — he hopes he would, he wants to feel fucking everything.

Including Yoongi coming inside of him and then letting it dribble from his hole when he pulls out.

Namjoon’s orgasm is sudden.

Thanks to the onslaught of lewd thoughts and the fucking video, he was gone within seconds of touching himself. He has his windows open in his apartment, and yet he’s struggling to catch his breath with every gasp and moan he lets out, tears stinging at his eyes as he keeps jerking himself because he likes overstimulation.

He thinks he can hear Yoongi following suit moments later as he listens to him, but he can’t be sure.

“O-oh god.” He whimpers, mostly to himself as he starts to get too sensitive and he has to force himself from touching his own cock any further. He also has to try and force himself to catch his breath before he passes out, which isn’t easy for him to do.

Not alone anyway.

This time he hears Yoongi talking to him, probably just as breathless as he is, yet he’s focusing on Namjoon. He’s talking to him, telling him he’s there, telling him to breathe — deep breath in and out, yeah, that’s it. Good boy. You’re doing good, Namjoon. Just focus on my voice.

Yoongi keeps supplying him with praises, and he doesn’t stop until he knows Namjoon is actually able to breathe, until he’s able to mutter a small ‘thank you’.

Yoongi coos. “That was intense, huh?”

“I— y-yeah.” He huffs, wiping his hand on his shirt because he’ll have to wash it anyway. “Did you—”

“Yeah.”

Namjoon’s thankful that Yoongi can’t see him when his cheeks become a deeper shade of pink at the thought of him coming because of him. He bites his lip as his dick twitches weakly, but he forces himself to ignore it. He can’t go again, not right now. Plus, he’s starting to feel gross from the sweat drying onto his skin, so he knows he’ll have to shower.

But he doesn’t want to.

“God, I just showered and now I have to take another one because of you.” Yoongi sighs, teasing, and Namjoon doesn’t even bother apologizing because he’s not sorry at all. “You should do the same, Joon-ah.”

“R-right.”

There’s a small chuckle on the other end, followed by a ‘goodbye Namjoon’ and then the call has ended. Namjoon lingers on the texts for a while as he considers asking Yoongi if he wants to meet up in a couple of days, but in the end he decides not to. Instead, he sets his phone down and goes to shower.

Maybe he also thinks about Yoongi’s dick again, but that’s not his fault at all.

⁂

Namjoon doesn’t call Yoongi again for a while.

He pretends it’s because he’s too busy with work, but the truth is that he’s just too embarrassed to actually talk to him again. He’s too embarrassed about how he had come last time, and he’s too embarrassed about the fact that maybe he cried a little later that night because he likes Yoongi a whole goddamn lot and he doesn’t even know if he feels the same way.

Because he’s too scared to ask him.

So he doesn’t talk to him, he doesn’t want to until he gets his feelings in check, which is fine. It’s all good… Until he actually fucking bumps into him at Hoseok’s birthday party.

He was excited to spend the day with Hoseok because he’s his friend and he’s not just going to skip out on something as important as his birthday. Actually, he was so excited for it, that he didn’t even think of Yoongi being there as a possibility.

Which, now looking back on it, is stupid. Because Jimin is there.

Jimin is dating Hoseok. Jimin is friends with Yoongi, and in turn, so is Hoseok.

But that never clicked in Namjoon’s mind. If he was being honest, Yoongi was sort of the last thing on his mind because he was a little buzzed and just enjoying being around people, Hoseok especially. He has that effect on others, Namjoon jokes that it’s his superpower.

However, a little later into the party, Namjoon had gone into the kitchen to get another drink, only to crash into someone who was leaving the kitchen at the exact same time.

Which is how he’s here, cursing himself for not watching where he was going because he was too busy finishing up a conversation with Hoseok. He’s about to apologize when he finally sees who it is, and all he can do is stare for a moment.

“Yoongi.”

“Namjoon.” Yoongi replies, lips twitching up into a smile. “You seem surprised to see me.”

“W-well, I— I didn’t think you would be. Why are you here?”

“I am friends with Hoseok, you know.”

Namjoon nods because that makes sense. His mind has gone blank and he’s not sure what else to say because he never once thought he would meet Yoongi in person. He always thought they would just have their…weird phone relationship that they have. Yet, here Yoongi is, standing in front of him with his hair brushed back, pants that are way too tight (because Namjoon can’t stop looking at his crotch) and a simple plain t-shirt that’s clinging to his skin in the perfect way.

Because Namjoon bumped into him and he spilled his alcohol.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he says quickly, pulling at Yoongi’s shirt as a way to keep it away from his skin. “I didn’t— I wasn’t—” he stops to be able to gather his thoughts. “Um, you don’t happen to have another shirt, do you?”

“Sorry, I decided to take my spare shirt off before I left my place.” Yoongi teases, and he likes the way Namjoon blushes. It’s better now that he’s standing in front of him and he actually sees it. “It’s fine, you don’t have to worry about it. It’ll dry.”

Namjoon chews on his lower lip, and Yoongi resists every urge he has to lean forward and kiss him. He can tell he’s already somewhat uncomfortable, he doesn’t want to make that worse.

“Uh, Hoseok should have something you can wear. I don’t think he would mind.” Namjoon finally says after a moment, and it’s then he realizes he’s still holding Yoongi’s shirt, so he finally lets it go. “I’ll go get you one.”

He offers a smile, albeit shyly, and then quickly turns to leave for Hoseok’s bedroom, but of course there’s no way he’ll get away that easily. Because Yoongi follows close behind him. Namjoon tries to tell himself it’s just because Yoongi needs to actually get the shirt from him.

It doesn’t make him any less nervous though as he rummages around in Hoseok’s closet, especially since he can feel his eyes on him, watching his every move. He swears he even sees him checking him out in the mirror, but he thinks that could be his mind playing tricks on him, making him hope for something.

His gaze is making him feel too hot so he quickly wraps up by grabbing a random shirt and handing it to Yoongi.

“Thanks,” Yoongi nods, and doesn’t give Namjoon a moment to react when he’s pulling off his soaked shirt. Namjoon tries his goddamn hardest not to stare, even if he has seen him naked before. He gets unbelievably flustered and quickly heads towards the door with yet another apology.

But Yoongi’s words stop him.

“So you get a video of me jerking off and then disappear?”

Namjoon fucking chokes on air, hand gripping the handle so tight all of a sudden that his knuckles turn white. He can’t help but think of the video now that Yoongi’s mentioned it but he tries to force it out of his head as he turns to look at the other, and he’s got that teasing grin that Namjoon has heard in his voice so many times but never actually seen.

It makes him want to melt.

“T-that’s not what it was!” He says quickly, eyes running over Yoongi’s torso before it disappears under the shirt. “I just— I’ve been really busy. Haven’t had any time to text you or anything.”

“Namjoon.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, and Namjoon bites back a whimper because holy shit, he’s so goddamn hot, it’s unfair. “You’re a bad liar over a phone call, but you’re even worse in person.”

Namjoon knows that’s true, he’s terrible at lying, even Hoseok has told him that many, many…many times.

He stares at Yoongi, trying to think of the perfect way to word things, but he’s struggling too much in the end, he just decides to tell him the truth. “I was embarrassed.” His voice is quiet, but Yoongi hums, letting him know he heard him and that he can continue. “B-because I’ve never— never had an orgasm like that before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and also,” he pauses, takes a deep breath, then rushes out his next words. “Ikindofreallylikeyou.”

It goes quiet, aside from the music and chatter from outside the bedroom, and Namjoon thinks that Yoongi probably hasn’t heard him. He did say it a little quietly after all, and it was rushed, so he wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe he gets a bit too lost in his thoughts, maybe he starts panicking, because Yoongi is suddenly so close to him and cupping his face so tenderly and telling him to breathe .

“S-sorry.” He forces out. “You can forget I said that, I know you probably have a lot of people saying that to you.”

“I do.” Yoongi admits, and Namjoon immediately feels a pang in his chest. It passes quickly thanks to Yoongi sliding his thumbs over his cheeks. “But I could always tell it was just because of my voice, you know? The fact that I would just get them off, there were no actual feelings there. It’s different with you, isn’t it?”

Namjoon nods, and Yoongi laughs a little. “It’s a good thing I like you too.”

“…what ?”

“It’s not like I was trying to hide it, Namjoon. I kept dropping hints.”

Namjoon stares at him as he starts to think back on everything. It’s obvious to him now ; the way Yoongi would do things for him that he wouldn’t do for anyone else, or the fact that he would always ask him about his day before anything else, telling him they can just talk. Or the fact that Yoongi explicitly told him that no one else ever got his actual phone number, just his work phone.

Or the fact that would constantly compliment him, and while Namjoon always thought it was just a part of his job, he realizes now that it wasn’t.

“Oh my god.” Namjoon groans, bringing his hands up to his face because that’s so fucking embarrassing. This whole goddamn time he thought Yoongi didn’t like him, but it was the exact opposite. If the ground could open up right now and swallow him whole, that would be great, he just wants to disappear from Yoongi’s sight.

Yoongi gently grabs his hands to pull them away from his face and Namjoon wants to look away, his face burning, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because Yoongi is staring at him with the softest smile and he loves it, goddamn it. What he loves more is when Yoongi leans closer and presses their lips together, and Namjoon swears fireworks go off in his head.

(He’ll find out tomorrow that the fireworks were real and actually because of one of the party goers).

The kiss is soft and tender, and there’s a lot of unsaid things being put into the kiss, but Namjoon loves it. He especially loves the way Yoongi presses closer to him until he’s practically pinned against the door, hands sliding down until they’re resting on his hips. Yoongi has nice hands, big hands, and can easily grab Namjoon’s hips and squeeze. It’s probably meant as something reassuring, but it does pull a soft moan from Namjoon, and Yoongi takes that chance to deepen the kiss. It becomes more desperate.

Clearly, Yoongi has wanted this just as much as he has.

Which is good, Namjoon likes that. He really likes that, especially when Yoongi presses against him more, holds his hips just a little tighter, and bites on his lower lip, earning a gasp in return. “Sorry,” Yoongi mutters against his lips, but his grin says otherwise. “Couldn’t help himself. You’ve got such pretty lips, Joon-ah.”

Namjoon wants to say something, he really does, but his brain can’t think of the words. Which he guesses is fine, considering moments later, Yoongi drags his lips along his jawline, down to the sides of his neck, to his throat — where he suckles and bites at the skin — and his hands, his fucking hands are touching him everywhere now.

“M-more.” Is all Namjoon can force out after a particularly harsher bite to his neck, and who is Yoongi to say no to him.

So he pulls Namjoon’s shirt from where he has it tucked in his pants just so he can slip his hands up and touch his bare skin, something that gets a shaky sigh in return. But Yoongi never gives him time to linger on one thing.

“Did you keep that video?”

“V-video? He repeats, and when he realizes what he means, he swallows. “Yeah, I…I watched it again a couple of nights ago.”

“And what did you think about?”

Namjoon whines. “H-hyung, don’t do this.”

“What,” he pinches one of Namjoon’s nipples. “Did you think about?”

There’s always something about Yoongi’s voice that makes him want to cave, it’s honestly not fair.

“You.” His voice comes out as a whisper, but Yoongi still hears him. He knows he hears him because he responds with ‘good boy’, and Namjoon continues because he wants more praise. “I t-thought about you fucking my thighs.”

“You really like the idea of that, don’t you?”

Namjoon bites at his lip as he thinks about what to say next, wondering if he really should say it. He should, it makes up for all the times Yoongi has teased him, even if he has enjoyed it. He lets his head fall back against the door when Yoongi moves a hand lower, nails dragging along his skin.

“N-not as much as the idea of you fucking me.”

For a moment, Namjoon thinks he’s said too much, that he’s said something he shouldn’t have even though Yoongi asked because for a good couple of minutes, there’s nothing from Yoongi. No touches, no kisses, no words — nothing. But then those same hands that had been touching under his shirt are suddenly grabbing his face; it’s not rough, but it’s not exactly gentle either, as he’s pulled in for a kiss and holy shit, there’s pure desperation in it.

Namjoon thought that’s what it was earlier, but it wasn’t, he realizes that now as Yoongi slides his lips over his, a hand on his cheek while the other goes to the back of his neck to keep him from pulling away. Even when he does manage to pull away, it’s only for a second, just to catch his breath, because Yoongi is diving right back in and each time is more desperate than the last, licking, biting, sucking and Namjoon swears his lips are fucking bruised by the time Yoongi finally lets up.

One hand stays on the back of his neck as he, once more, starts to bite and kiss at his neck and throat but this time it’s with the full intention of leaving as marks as he possibly can. His other hand that had been cupping his face is moving down his chest, to his hip where he squeezes, and then round to his ass where he gives an even harder squeeze and it makes Namjoon’s hips jerk.

It’s then that he realizes Yoongi has a knee pressed between his legs, his clothed dick pressing against his thigh.

“Move,” Yoongi says against his skin, and even though his mind is all muddled, Namjoon doesn’t have to be told twice. He starts to rock against Yoongi’s thigh, unsure of what to do with his own hands, so he ends up just sort of grabbing at Yoongi’s shirt. He switches to grabbing his hair, however, when Yoongi bites down so hard that he swears he draws blood. But if anything, it only makes Namjoon’s dick throb in his jeans. He gets too lost in the feeling of Yoongi’s lips and teeth all over his skin to actually keep moving, which is fine, because Yoongi helps.

He helps by grabbing his ass tighter, pushing him forward and enjoying every little noise that falls past the other’s lips. It’s strange how he’s heard them so many times before, yet they’ve never sounded like this. So eager, so desperate, so…needy.

“Y-Yoongi.” Namjoon whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, as Yoongi keeps helping to move against his thigh. He pulls his hands away from his shirt to move them down his body and to his belt because he can feel Yoongi too and he really needs to touch him, to feel him in his hand. The only problem is that he fumbles with Yoongi’s belt a few times and he’s so sure that’s the reason Yoongi stops him by the wrist, finally pulling away from him.

They just stare at each other, taking in how the other looks even though they both look pretty fucked when all they’ve done is make out and grind against one another. Maybe they were both more desperate than they realized.

Yoongi brings his hand up to slide his thumb over Namjoon’s lips, which is a mistake, honestly. Because then he’s taking it into his mouth and Yoongi can’t stop himself from pressing it further into his mouth, pressing down against his tongue and Namjoon’s eyes roll.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing down a little harder so that Namjoon has no choice but to open his mouth and Yoongi leans in to kiss him yet again after removing his thumb from his mouth. It’s way too messy, mostly on Namjoon’s part honestly, but they don’t really care.

“Hyung.” Namjoon breathes against Yoongi’s lips between kisses. His hands are back at his belt, fingers trembling. “Hyung, please… Let me— I need—”

“What?”

“You.”

The single word makes Yoongi bite down on Namjoon’s bottom lip in surprise, something he apologizes for with a kiss… and then a few more. Yet, despite Namjoon’s pleading, he slaps his hands away from his belt before grabbing them and pulling him away from the door just so he can open it. “Come on.”

“W-where?”

“I’m not fucking on Hoseok’s bed.” He says quietly, but it’s loud enough that Namjoon can hear him. “I brought my car here.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to say anything more because Namjoon understands, although if he’s being honest, he’s still a little more focused on the first part of that. They’re going to fuck. They’re going to have sex and in the back of Yoongi’s car, no less. All Namjoon can do is follow behind Yoongi like a goddamn puppy, maybe bumping into a few people because he’s far too eager. But also embarrassed, and that only grows because he swears Hoseok fucking cheers for him as they leave the apartment. He chooses to ignore it in favor of following Yoongi as quickly as he can, and thankfully Hoseok doesn’t live on a high floor in the building because it doesn’t take them long to get outside.

Namjoon wasn’t aware how hot he was until he realizes the bitter cold actually feels good against his skin. He takes a moment to just enjoy it, Yoongi does too, and then he pulls him over to where he parked his car.

It’s when they’re in the car that everything hits Namjoon like a ton of bricks and his nerves take over. The mood has shifted too because it’s just the two of them now and Namjoon must show some kind of expression because Yoongi is stroking the back of his hand, which he still hasn’t let go of.

“Hey.” He says, voice soft, but so loud to Namjoon. “We don’t have to.”

“N-no, it’s just… It’s finally hit me that this is going to happen, y’know? It’s something I’ve thought about a lot—”

“Oh, I know.” Yoongi teases, and even though he tries to glare at him, Namjoon is still thankful for it. That, even despite what happened, what’s going to happen, Yoongi is still taking the time to make sure he’s okay. Yoongi’s fingers move up his arm, barely touching him, but enough that it sends a shiver down Namjoon’s spine. “…I’ve thought about it too, just so you know.”

"R-really?"

“Well, yeah,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “When I got into this job, I told myself I would never. That I would only be professional, and for the longest time I was, people actually started asking for me because I was that good, I guess. But then you came along and I… I didn’t want anyone else, didn’t care about anyone else. God, you had me fucked up in every possible from the moment I first heard your voice.”

Namjoon inhales sharply. Maybe it’s because of his words or maybe it’s because he grabs at his arm, as if to ground himself.

“I wanted to hear you all the time. I wanted to hold you and kiss you and—” He cuts himself off, but Namjoon already knows what he was going to say. It’s funny, how he always thought Yoongi never thought of him that way, and yet here he is, admitting that he most certainly did.

“You can kiss me.” Namjoon says after a moment, and Yoongi does. “You can touch me.”

And Yoongi does. He touches him, everywhere he can, he touches him. He touches him and kisses him until Namjoon has no choice but to climb into his lap. An awkward position, sure, but it’s fine. They kiss over and over and over again until Namjoon presses his finger to Yoongi’s lips to get him to stop. It’s the first time during the entire night that Yoongi has seen Namjoon with a teasing glint in his eyes, slightly hidden behind all that desperation and lust.

“You can fuck me.”

Yoongi swallows, seems to take a few breaths to regain his composure as his fingers dig into Namjoon’s hips. Namjoon, however, keeps talking. “You can fuck me,” he repeats, and despite the layers of fabric between them, he swears he feels Yoongi’s dick twitching against his ass. So it’s not his fault when he rocks his hips back to get a little more. “You’ve thought about it, so don’t you want to, hyung?”

This time, Yoongi laughs , he actually laughs and despite the situation, Namjoon’s heart hammers in his chest. “Keep saying shit like that and I’ll come before we even do anything,” he admits. “Maybe I should find a way to keep you quiet instead.”

Namjoon might try to act like it doesn’t get to him, but the way his thighs clench on either side of Yoongi, doesn’t go unnoticed. Of course it fucking doesn’t.

“Oh? Do you want that, Namjoon?”

“Yes, please .”

“You must want it that bad if you asked so nicely.” Yoongi coos, and Namjoon nods because he really does, he’s not even ashamed of it anymore. He’s wanted it for so long, to have Yoongi in his mouth, so maybe he’s a little too happy when Yoongi tells him to get off his lap, and while he certainly loves the feeling of Yoongi’s clothed dick against his ass, he still climbs out of his lap because he knows something better will come. He watches as Yoongi stands up a little to lean into the front for the glove compartment, and he doesn’t ask what he’s getting because he knows.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I thought I had a condom in here too.”

Namjoon pouts as he watches Yoongi sit back down with a bottle of lube in his hand. He stares at him for a moment, then speaks. “…we can go without.”

Yoongi’s head snaps up so quickly that Namjoon thinks he’s said the wrong thing, and he opens his mouth to say ‘nevermind’ when Yoongi’s lips smash against his — well, it’s more like their teeth smash together and it hurts, but Yoongi just keeps kissing him over and over again, so Namjoon takes that as an apology while trying his best to return each kiss.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses between kisses, then again, and a few more times before he pulls back and says. “Clothes off.”

Namjoon certainly doesn’t need to be told twice as he quickly pulls off his own shirt, followed by his pants and then his boxers. He momentarily thinks he’s alone in being naked, but then he actually looks at Yoongi and sees that he’s naked too, and there’s a few things that can make Namjoon whimper the way he does; high and needy.

It could be that he’s actually seeing Yoongi completely naked. It could be the sight of the snake tattoo winding up Yoongi’s thigh. It could be the way his dick rests hot and heavy against his stomach when he sits back down. He doesn’t think about it, and Yoongi doesn’t ask in favor of kissing him again. It doesn’t last as long as he would’ve liked it too, and that’s Namjoon’s fault. Because he’s far too eager when he wraps a hand around Yoongi’s achingly hard cock and strokes slowly. He’s far too eager when he leans down until he’s practically laying across the backseats and, without even the slightest bit of hesitation, drags his tongue up the base.

“G-God.” Yoongi chokes out when Namjoon does it again, and his hand goes straight to his hair, petting all the while praising him, just from a few touches, a few licks and kisses. “Good boy,” he huffs. “Good boy, N-Namjoon.”

The praise goes straight to Namjoon’s head, as well as his dick, but he absolutely refuses to touch himself. He’s touched himself plenty whenever he and Yoongi spoke on the phone, now he just wants to touch him . He glances up at him at the exact same moment he wraps his lips around the head and takes him further into his mouth, down his throat and swallowing. A curse falls from Yoongi’s lips, then a short laugh when Namjoon tries to take more and gags before pulling off.

It should not turn him on when Yoongi laughs like that.

“Oh, baby.” A pet-name he’s heard so many times before, but it still makes Namjoon weak in the knees. Yoongi’s thumb swipes over his lips. “As much as I would love to see you choking on my dick, don’t force yourself.”

“But…” Namjoon pauses, momentarily distracted when Yoongi slides his knuckles over his cheek; a simple motion but it feels so tender and Namjoon’s getting fucking whiplash. “I w-wanna get you nice ‘n’ wet before you fuck me.”

From the way Yoongi looks at him, Namjoon knows he wants to kiss him, and while Namjoon loves the kisses, he’s more than happy when Yoongi really relaxes into the seat, a silent indication that he can continue. So he does exactly that. He goes back to licking at Yoongi’s cock, swiping his thumb over the head and enjoying the way Yoongi’s hips jerk. He tries to hold back, he knows he does, so he does it again. He does it again and again and again — he does it until Yoongi grabs his hair, impatient, and all but forces him onto his cock.

Namjoon is sure he hears him calling him a brat, but he’s much more focused on the way Yoongi tastes in his mouth, the way he sits hot and heavy against his tongue until Namjoon is ready to take more. He manages to take almost all of Yoongi before he chokes and sputters, and he has no shame when he reaches down to touch himself because Yoongi keeps him there.

He forces him to stay on his cock a little longer as he gags before he pulls him off, just enough to let him catch his breath, and then he does it again. Each time, Namjoon manages to take a little more until his nose is buried against Yoongi’s pubic hair.

“Fuck, such a g-good boy, Namjoon. Pretty boy,” his words are forced out, low in his throat. He lets his head fall to the side and he looks down at him, sees the tears in his eyes, the way his face is flushed such a pretty shade of red, how his lips are stretched around him, how his adams apple bobs when he fucking swallows around him. The way he thrusts up harshly has Namjoon choking and gagging more, spluttering around him, so he pulls him off moments later and Namjoon has never looked more devastated.

“A-again.” Namjoon whines, and his voice already sounds ruined. “Please, Y-Yoongi, do it again—”

“Namjoon, god, if I do it again I’m gonna come.” He admits, the all too familiar heat bubbling inside of him, and he doesn’t want to come this early. “T-take your time, okay? There’s no rush.”

Namjoon huffs with a pout, but he listens to Yoongi’s words. He takes his time by going back to just simply kissing up and down the length of Yoongi’s cock, the hand that was wrapped around his own hardness, now wrapped around Yoongi, touching whatever he doesn’t kiss or lick. He knows how much of a whore he’s been over Yoongi’s dick, and honestly he doesn’t care. How can he when he feels him twitch in his hand from anticipation. How can he when all he can think about is how good Yoongi tastes, how he feels in his mouth, how he wants nothing more than for Yoongi to come down his throat so he can thank him for it.

He’s not even embarrassed when he lets Yoongi’s dick rest against his cheek, smearing pre-come across his skin.

If it turns him on — if it turns Yoongi on — why should he be embarrassed?

Honestly, he’s so focused on Yoongi (and his dick) that he doesn’t hear the cap of the lube popping open. He doesn’t hear Yoongi pouring some into his hand while asking Namjoon how many fingers he can take. He doesn’t really hear it when he asks him a second time because that’s the exact time Yoongi teases at his hole. It’s warm, Yoongi made sure of that, but it still startles him.

“How many fingers can you take?” Yoongi asks again now that he has Namjoon’s attention, and Namjoon looks up at him, eyes big and pleading.

“U-usually three or four.” He finally answers and Yoongi accepts the answer by pressing a single digit inside of him. He drops his head to rest it against Yoongi’s thigh for a moment, but he doesn’t really want to neglect him, so he tries his best to put his attention back on his cock. Well, he succeeds at first, he’s able to take him back into his mouth, but as Yoongi soon adds a second finger and eventually a third while making scissoring motions with them to stretch him open, all he can really do is let his cock fall from his mouth and pant against it.

However, while he might not be able to focus much to suck Yoongi off, it’s very easy for him to think that Yoongi is a fucking god with his fingers.

Now, Namjoon has had people fuck him with their fingers before, even done it himself, but the way Yoongi does it, it’s so… different. He knows the perfect way to press them in deeper, knows the exact way he should spread them apart to make Namjoon feel full. He knows when exactly to curl them to make Namjoon sob in pleasure, nails digging into Yoongi’s thigh. He does it while using his other hand to pet Namjoon’s hair, tells him he’s doing so well, tells him he looks so pretty, and tells him to open his mouth. He does, of course he does.

He opens his mouth and lets Yoongi just gently fuck up into the warmth, not enough that it’ll make him come, but enough that he has some kind of pleasure.

“Pretty baby.” He purrs, brushing Namjoon’s hair away from his face before pulling him off his cock just so he can get an answer to his next question. “Can I add a fourth?”

“G-god no, if you do, I’ll come immediately.”

Something flashes on Yoongi’s face and Namjoon is quick to stop whatever he has planned with his next words.

“W-wanna come with you inside me, Yoongi, please.” He begs, trying to lean up to kiss him but Yoongi presses his fingers in deeper. “H-hyung— hyung, please, I’m begging you— I… I want to come with you inside me. I w-want to feel you come inside me too, d-don’t you want to?”

Namjoon knows he does. He fucking knows . But his words still make Yoongi stop and he pulls his fingers from Namjoon, enjoying the moan that he lets out. Mostly because it breaks off into a whine at how empty he feels. He sits up, feeling a little light headed because it’s too goddamn hot in this car and it certainly doesn’t help when Yoongi grabs the lube and starts to slick himself up.

Yoongi catches him staring, but doesn’t say anything. He just leans over to give him a kiss. “…I know we’re limited, but is there any particular position you wanna be in?”

“On my back.” Namjoon replies way too quickly, returning every single kiss Yoongi gives him until there’s a hand on his chest to stop him, to get him to lie back. “I wanna…see your face when you fuck me.”

The words earn him a harsh pinch to one of his nipples and he yelps , mostly from pleasure, a little from pain, and Yoongi doesn’t even apologize when he pouts at him. “You said you wanted me to come inside you, but you keep saying things like that… It makes me wonder.”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you?” Yoongi huffs, and Namjoon just smiles at him. No, he’s not. Yoongi knows that, and he’s fine with it, honestly. Thankfully Namjoon doesn’t make another comment like that but it’s mostly because he’s more focused on watching Yoongi; the way he kneels between his legs, one hand on his hip while the other guides is wrapped around his own cock, guiding to Namjoon’s hole and pressing in slowly.

Despite his words moments before, Namjoon shuts his eyes, mostly to get used to the feeling because Yoongi is big. Sure, he couldn’t fit him in his mouth, but that doesn’t really mean much usually since Namjoon has a small mouth anyway. He could tell from the video too, and that didn't really do it justice, if he's being honest. But he’s big, both in length and girth, stretching him in a way that even through the pleasure, there’s still pain. Yoongi helps with that slightly when he starts rubbing his thigh, which is also a good way to relax him, he realizes. So he keeps doing it, pressing in more and more until he bottoms out.

They’re already both breathing heavily as if they’ve done more than what they have, but Yoongi always focuses on Namjoon. Without fail. He leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Namjoon finally opens his eyes to look at him. “W-what happened to watching me?” He teases, and Namjoon honestly doesn’t even have the energy to pout at him. “Are you okay?”

“B-big.” He says, and Yoongi’s hand squeezes his thigh, although he’s not sure if it’s a warning or not. Maybe it’s to calm himself. “R-really big— fuck, hyung, I don’t—”

“It’s okay.” Yoongi reassures, kissing his lips this time. “I won’t move until you’re ready, yeah? I promise.”

Namjoon knows he won’t, he doesn’t have to promise him. Still, he nods and wraps his arms around Yoongi so he can try to pull him closer for more kisses. Yoongi’s kisses are gentle, they’re not as desperate as they were earlier, although he could be trying to hold back. Namjoon likes those desperate kisses.

He likes these kisses too.

The ones where Yoongi gently cups his face and kisses him over and over. The ones where he whispers soft words between them. The ones where he pulls back just for a moment to look into Namjoon’s eyes with the most loving look he’s ever seen before he leans back in.

He likes these kisses more, he thinks.

Even as Yoongi keeps doing it, it isn’t enough, he wants more of them. They do help him to relax though, or it could be the eventual touches to his arms, who knows. Regardless, he starts to relax. Although he’s so caught up in just returning every single kiss Yoongi offers him to tell him to move. That is, until he squirms a little because Yoongi’s hands move over his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples. He’s not entirely sure if it’s by instinct when Yoongi holds his hip down to stop him from moving more.

“You can move.”

“…are you sure?”

“Y-yeah.” Namjoon nods, smiling even though his voice comes out shaky, and Yoongi kisses him again. He tries to keep kissing him even as he pulls out, not by much, and then slides back into him. He really tries his fucking best to keep kissing him as he starts with that pace, slow and gentle, but all he can end up doing is panting against Namjoon’s lips. Which is fine because Namjoon is in a similar boat.

It’s weird — he’s had sex before, a lot of times, yet it’s never felt as… intense as it does with Yoongi.

Maybe it’s the fact that he really fucking likes him that it makes his heart feel full.

Or, maybe it’s the fact that while he fucks him, Yoongi uses every single piece of information he knows about Namjoon’s body to make his dick hard and his head spin. It’s just simple touches to his chest at first, something to do with his hands Namjoon thinks, but then he’s back to taking his nipples between his fingers, pinching and tugging until they’re red and swollen, and Namjoon is letting out the prettiest noises.

But just as he arches up into the touch to get more, Yoongi moves his goddamn hands down and while Namjoon whines, Yoongi tries to hold back his grin. Fucking asshole . Though he can’t be too mad about it, not when he drags his fingers down his sides, across his stomach and to his dick that’s flushed a pretty red, aching for some kind of touch. But does Yoongi give him that?

Of course he fucking doesn’t.

He skips past his cock completely to grab at his thighs instead, and Namjoon wants to say something, wants to protest or beg or something. He has all intentions of doing that, it’s just that when he opens his eyes to look at Yoongi, he feels an insane heat in his gut at the sight.

Yoongi, who he knows is usually so composed, looks like he’s really fucking struggling . He’s got his hands gripping Namjoon’s thighs so tight that there’s a possibility bruises will form later (Namjoon can only hope) and his head is down, hair falling over his face and it first, Namjoon thinks he’s got his eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure. But when he rolls his hips a little slower at the same time he spreads his thighs further apart, Namjoon sees him licking his lips between mouthing a few curses.

“H-Hyung,” he chokes out because he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. “Are y-you watching as you fuck me?”

“Guilty.” Yoongi tries to laugh but it just comes out breathy and it sort of breaks out into a groan as he angles his hips better. “F-fuck, you just look so good, Joon-ah. Taking me so— s-so well.”

Namjoon swears he’s on fire from how hot he feels right now. He feels like he can’t breathe, honestly, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning up to kiss Yoongi, brushing back his hair so he can actually see him when he pulls away. He doesn’t move away much, just enough so that he can watch Yoongi’s face. Maybe he enjoys it way too much when Yoongi’s eyes keep darting down to watch.

Namjoon’s curiosity gets the better of him and he can’t help but to look down too.

He’s never watched himself be fucked before, it never really crossed his mine. However, in this moment with Yoongi, he’ll be more than happy to do it again. Because he enjoys it a little too much as he sees Yoongi’s dick sliding in and out of him, hearing the noises Yoongi keeps making — the moans, the curses, the constant whispers of his name between every breath.

“M-more.” He demands, even though he’s not sure what he’s asking for more of. All he knows is that he wants more. Yoongi gives him more. He gives him more touches and more kisses. He gives him more hickeys, littered all across his neck. He gives him more by fucking him even harder, just the slightest bit faster, and Namjoon is once again going back to not being able to breath.

“Feel good?” Yoongi asks, and Namjoon tries to laugh at the question but all that comes out is a choke moan as he nods.

“Fu-full.”

“Oh, baby.” Yoongi coos, teasing, and Namjoon’s dick twitches. “D-do you like when I fuck you like this? Filling you up until you can’t think of anything else? Bet — shit — b-bet you’ll think about my dick for days after this, desperate to have me inside you again.”

“Yoongi—”

“Like a good little slut .”

Namjoon’s orgasm hits hard and he scrambles for something to grab onto, eventually settling on digging his nails into Yoongi’s skin. He tries his best to keep his eyes open, he really does, but it’s hard to do when Yoongi keeps fucking him through his orgasm, teases him for coming without a hand around his dick, yet still tells him he’s a good boy, he’s doing so well.

“Y-you made such a mess.” His voice sounds strained and while his own brain might be muddled, Namjoon still catches the hint of desperation when Yoongi speaks. “Always such a g-good boy for me, Namjoon. Fuck — d-do you even know what you to do to me?

If Namjoon didn’t just come, those words alone definitely would have made him. He likes the idea that he can make Yoongi as weak as he makes him. Maybe that’s why he leans up to kiss him like his life fucking depends on it even though he can’t breathe. Maybe it’s why he locks his legs around Yoongi’s waist to stop him from pulling out. Maybe it’s why he begs over and over and over for Yoongi to come inside of him.

“Pl-please, hyung, inside. C-come inside.” He continues to beg, sloppily kissing him with each desperate thrust Yoongi gives. “ Please, I-I’ve been good— a good boy, I wanna f-feel everything.”

Namjoon thought Yoongi was desperate before but god, he was wrong. He realizes that when Yoongi grabs his face and kisses him hard, all sorts of noises, curses, praises — because he still manages to fucking praise Namjoon through it all — leaving him without a care in the world. His fucks him without a thought, each desperate thrust making Namjoon’s breath stutter and his dick twitch weakly. His thrusts get more and more desperate, quick and hard, until he finally spills deep inside of him with one harder thrust and a much, much louder moan of Namjoon’s name.

It’s the loudest Namjoon has heard him and he actually kind of loves that. He loves that he’s the one that got Yoongi like that.

If he had more time to think about it, then he would, but right now he’s more focused on the way Yoongi is fucking him through the rest of his orgasm until he finally pulls out now that Namjoon no longer has his legs wrapped around his waist. And Namjoon knows Yoongi watches his cum dribble from his hole. He knows because he spreads his cheeks apart and whispers ‘fuck’.

“Hyung.” He whines, trying to squirm away from him when he slides his fingers over his hole and then presses them against it. He gets an apology in the form of a kiss and a soft laugh.

“S-sorry, couldn’t help myself.” Yoongi says against his lips, giving him a few more quick kisses before he looks around the car, searching only for a moment before he turns back to Namjoon with some wipes. “Here, I’ll clean you up.”

There’s a split second where they lock eyes, but it’s enough for Yoongi to catch something in Namjoon’s.

“…you don’t want me to.”

Namjoon flushes. Is he really that goddamn easy to read?

“W-well, I just…” He trails off because how the fuck is he supposed to tell Yoongi he likes the feeling of his cum inside of him? Then again, he doesn’t really have to say anything for Yoongi to know because instead of handing him the wipes again, he instead hands him his underwear before putting his own on.

They sit there for… Namjoon isn’t sure how long, actually. But it’s quiet and he enjoys it, especially since Yoongi keeps running his fingers up and down his leg that’s now over his lap. It’s a simple touch, there’s no intention behind it. Although, it helps him to not think about the fact that they just fucked in Yoongi’s car and people most definitely heard them.

It helps him to just relax, just like everything else about Yoongi.

“Does this make us boyfriends?”

The fingers stop halfway up his leg and he opens his eyes to look at Yoongi, who’s already staring at him, lips twitching up into a smile. “Well… I would’ve preferred to buy you dinner first, but yeah, I guess it does.”

“Buy me dinner tomorrow.”

“How about I buy you breakfast instead?”

Namjoon pouts at him, the fucking smooth bastard . But Yoongi just continues to smile at him, so genuine and happy that it makes Namjoon’s heart hammer so loud in his chest that he fucking swears Yoongi can hear it. “Y-yeah, okay. I’d…really like that.”

Never in his life has Namjoon been so excited for something as simple as breakfast. He’s definitely more excited about it after Yoongi spends the rest of the night in his bedroom, going into explicit detail about what it is that Namjoon does to him.

Needless to say, he’s fucking whipped.

Head over heels in love with someone who’s one-hundred percent going to be the death of him.