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Yoongi pushes him up against the door as soon as it’s closed and attacks him with a kiss hard enough that it rattles Hoseok’s jaw a little bit. He doesn’t have a chance to say anything, and he probably wouldn’t. All he wants is to let Yoongi take whatever he wants from him.
In mere seconds, Yoongi’s ripping Hoseok’s belt off of him, and then unzipping his pants. Hoseok is so caught off guard. He knew Yoongi wanted to fuck; he didn’t know he was going to be this animalistic about it though.
“B-baby?” Hoseok asks, as Yoongi is extremely careless, shoving him right into the door, not enough to hurt but enough to make him know he’s in charge.
“God, you look so damn good, Seok,” Yoongi’s voice is low, the low it gets when he’s trying to turn Hoseok on, and it works because that’s literally all it takes for his dick to become curious.
“Y-Yoongi,” Hoseok gasps.
“I love you so fucking much, Hoseok,” Yoongi says, and he looks so angry about it, in only the hottest way Hoseok could possibly imagine.
“Mm,” he’s about to say it back before Yoongi takes his breath away with a kiss out of this world. His hands are both at the back of Hoseok’s neck, pressing him closer and closer, while Yoongi swallows his voice.
If Hoseok had thoughts, words to say, Yoongi has made him forget them. He only knows the feeling of Yoongi. The touch of his fingers and the movement of his tongue against Hoseok’s. Yoongi is giving him all the thoughts he needs. He’s putting them into his head like their minds are connected. His thoughts are dirty, sexy, pretty, loving, hot.
He’s prisoner to Yoongi’s hunger but with his hands on Yoongi’s hips, or maybe his ass, it’s definitely mutual. But any words he had eventually empty away, his brain just short circuits and everything falls out as Yoongi holds his body so tightly that he’s not sure if his feet are on the ground anymore.
Hoseok gives up on everything. His body almost gives out too, but Yoongi pushes him hard against the door, making it rattle behind him. He pushes Hoseok’s pants and boxers down, and in mere seconds, Yoongi’s fingers are already wrapped around his dick which is waking up quickly.
“Ohhh,” Hoseok moans, breaking the kiss because he’s physically incapable of stopping the sound from coming out of his mouth. Yoongi laughs and watches Hoseok’s head fall back against the door. He spits into his hand and then spreads it on Hoseok to make jerking him off easier.
Hoseok can’t do anything at all. He’s trapped in place by his pants around his ankles and by the Yoongi that’s got a beast living inside of him.
“Shit,” Yoongi sighs. Looking at the blissed-out face on his husband is enough to get him fully hard as well. He’s going to need Hoseok sooner rather than later, but he likes having him completely under his control.
“Y-Yoongi,” Hoseok’s fingers dig deep into Yoongi’s shoulder blades and he responds in kind by biting Hoseok’s ear and tugging lightly.
Hoseok’s long past hard in his hands, leaking precum all over the place. Yoongi swaps one hand for the other and licks his fingers clean, savoring the taste of his husband.
Hoseok slams his hand against the door hard and gasps out. It takes him a moment or two to get out any words. Yoongi’s fingers are actually magic. For other couples, a hand job might seem like a cop out, but Yoongi has perfected the art. “Wh-what’s got—ah!—you l-like this?” Hoseok asks, feeling Yoongi’s other hand touching him up and down his thighs and stomach.
“Been showing off your body so much lately, haven’t you?” Yoongi says, biting hard into Hoseok’s shoulder, making him gasp and arch his back from the door. “It’s all mine though, isn’t it? You’re fucking mine.”
“Y-yours, baby. I’m all yours. No one else can ever have me. N-no one else.”
“Every inch of you belongs to me,” Yoongi says, twisting the head of his cock, which makes Hoseok squeak.
“Y-yes!” he gasps.
Yoongi groans. The knowledge that Hoseok is all his could have him bursting right here but he hasn’t had Hoseok inside him yet and he needs him desperately. More than desperately. Hoseok belongs to him. They need to constantly be locked together.
“Wait for me right here, Seokie,” Yoongi says, ghosting fingers all down his skin. Hoseok’s got goosebumps running everywhere. Yoongi kisses him very hard, but very quickly, and then abandons him just as quickly.
Like that, Hoseok is left whimpering, his dick leaking miserably as Yoongi leaves him right by the front door and turns around, off into the apartment. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, but his legs give out anyway. Hoseok falls to the ground, shell shocked at what’s transpired in the last ten minutes. He’s so hard he thinks a gust of wind would have him cumming on himself.
He at least pulls his shoes, socks, pants—just everything off. Yoongi is coming back into the room when Hoseok has taken off his shirt but he’s still lying on the ground, now very naked, his back to the door where he fell.
“Fuck,” Yoongi groans. He tosses the lube at Hoseok and is then undressing himself swiftly. Hoseok watches him, in awe of Yoongi, even though he’s seen him thousands of times before. He’ll never get over just how gorgeous his husband is. How his tummy is softer now than when they met and it makes him so much sexier. How pale his legs are and how cute his cock is when it pops up as he pulls his underwear down. Yoongi is everything. Hoseok doesn’t care about anything in the world besides him. Nothing at all. At least, he feels that way whenever he’s looking at Yoongi because there’s nothing else he could ever fathom loving as deeply as he loves Yoongi.
Yoongi looks down at him, at the sight of such a desperate Hoseok, clearly thirsting after Yoongi’s body, his touch, his lips. He uses one finger to beckon him over to the rug in the living room, because that’s honestly the furthest he’s able to get before attacking Hoseok again.
He climbs on top of him, Hoseok gasping beneath him as their lips connect once again. Hoseok is grabbing him, pinching the skin of his back tightly as he pulls him in so that Yoongi can’t ever leave.
Hoseok hears rather than sees the cap of the lube opening, and then he feels the change in Yoongi’s posture as Yoongi presses fingers into himself. Hoseok groans, jealous that he’s not the one doing it. His cock is hard and resting firmly up against Yoongi’s.
Yoongi is straddling him, and he pulls himself up so that Hoseok can watch him. He’s a sin. He’s long black hair, tucked behind his ears. He’s perfect, soft, pale skin. He’s pink lips, bitten and wet. He’s soul crushing brown eyes. His every angle is artwork. From the curve of his neck to all the delicate lines of his body that Hoseok has touched and kissed a million times before. There’s one hand on Hoseok’s thigh, keeping him balanced, and the other, Hoseok can see long fingers sinking into himself eagerly—desperate to have Hoseok inside of him. Desperate for his husband to take him.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Yoongi says, shuddering when he feels Hoseok’s cock rubbing against his own. Yoongi’s tiny, little cock. Barely big enough for Hoseok to sit on it, but easily Hoseok’s favorite thing in the whole world. And probably the best thing to have in his mouth. It’s leaking, and he wishes he had it in his mouth right now.
“Not as hot as you.”
“Shit, I need you,” Yoongi says, and then both of Yoongi’s hands are now on Hoseok’s cock, stroking him with lube. It’s too much, Hoseok can’t even breathe the moment that Yoongi sits up, angles Hoseok’s cock just right, and then slowly sinks himself down onto him. Yoongi gives him a low, deep moan that he’s heard millions of times before, but it still sparks his senses and bones. That’s for him. Yoongi is moaning for him. He gasps out “Hoseok” once he’s fully seated.
Hoseok groans and presses his eyes closed firmly at the sensation of having his husband exactly where he’s supposed to be. Yoongi should never be anywhere else. Not anywhere. Always with Hoseok inside him. Always with the two of them connected.
“This is mine,” Yoongi says, and fingernails grip tightly into the skin of his shoulders as Yoongi bears down on him. Hoseok nods, opening his eyes to see that beautiful dark hair draping all over his face, curtaining him in so Hoseok has no choice but to look straight at him. He doesn’t want to see anything else anyway.
“I’m yours,” Hoseok whispers, as Yoongi begins a dance on his cock—pushing his hips down, stirring them around, making sure he’s filled to the brim with Hoseok. Yoongi clenches around him, intent on making sure that Hoseok’s whole mind will imprint this moment forever, and it most definitely does. He gasps, a soft but hungry sound.
Hoseok is suddenly desperate to touch every inch of Yoongi’s skin. His skin is soft, smooth, smells like almonds and musk. His skin, white and brilliantly pale in the daylight or moonlight, is given a warmer yellow tone from their less glaring celling light.
There aren’t really words to describe the beauty of Yoongi. Over a decade of being in love with him and he still hasn’t found even a single adjective that could come close. Maybe he’s a masterpiece? A work of art so beautiful that only God himself could paint him. But that doesn’t quite do Yoongi justice. Yoongi is like a completely black night sky with one dazzling, gleaming bright star. Everything else is just nothing compared to him. He’s the only thing in the whole world.
And when he has Hoseok now, pushed against the rug on the floor in a way that’s definitely not great for his back, Hoseok gets to see him the most beautiful way he can possibly get. His black hair which is growing long now, is down in front of his face. It would be pushed back ordinarily if he chose to care, but he probably doesn’t have the emotional room for that right now. His clean perfect skin is marked by a small tattoo on his chest—two interconnected hearts, it matches the one on Hoseok’s chest exactly. His face—well, no one but him should ever get to see Yoongi like this. Utter bliss with no restraint.
There’s wetness in the corner of his eyes, from the exertion or just the bliss of being where he most loves to be. He has flush high in his cheeks, probably on his ears too. There’s sweat sticking a few strands of hair to his forehead. And his pink lips are open with a constant stream of curses or moans.
His Yoongi doesn’t ever really curse. Not until they’re together like this. Complete as one like they’re supposed to be. Yoongi lets one of his hands roam down Hoseok’s lean muscles on these silly abs Yoongi keeps obsessing over more than Hoseok had intended.
Hoseok puts the back of his hand on the side of Yoongi’s face, stroking along it for the briefest moment of purity. Yoongi really does look like an angel. Maybe not the angels he pictured as a kid. With golden halos and glittery hair. But he’s someone so perfect and enchanting it’s hard to see him any other way.
“You’re so beautiful,” Hoseok murmurs.
Yoongi doesn’t roll his eyes, but it looks like maybe he wants to. He’s trying to get his brain fucked out of him by Hoseok and here he is being all touchy and romantic. It’s not his fault that Yoongi is that attractive. It also doesn’t help that Hoseok is always catching himself accidentally saying things like “so pretty” or “handsome, handsome” whenever he looks at Yoongi for more than ten seconds.
Yoongi spreads his fingers across Hoseok’s ribs, a few of the nails dig in painfully, but he’s distracted by it when Yoongi bends down to kiss him nasty. Tongue and teeth and saliva, and somehow his chin is involved at one point. Yoongi just needs to kiss anything that he can. The feel of Yoongi’s deep voice gasping into Hoseok’s throat eggs him on to bounce Yoongi in his lap harder and rougher, which makes his sounds even more and more desperate. A perfect game that they’ve mastered after thousands of hours of practice.
“You feel so good,” Yoongi cries out, “Fuck! How are you so good?” Yoongi’s hips roll deeply against him, and he grabs his head in his arms like a hug as he works himself. Hoseok is now panting against his ear desperately. It’s hard to really even exist in so much ecstasy. It’s so good he wants to scream. But he settles for tugging on Yoongi’s hair because it always makes Yoongi go crazy.
Of course he was right, because Yoongi whines against him and slams down, gasping for breath. He begs for more. More of anything. More of Hoseok, more of his touch, his kiss, his air, his love.
Hoseok can see his other tattoo from here, the only other one he says he’ll ever have. The small black 7 on his shoulder right above his scar. Hoseok thinks he goes a little rabid at the thought of how hot and sexy and brave his husband is, and the 7 on his shoulder always reminds him of that, so he fucks up into him as hard he can. Yoongi has been through all of this together with him and he still loves him so fully and completely, so by God, he deserves to get the lifeforce fucked out of him.
“Gonna fucking cum, Hoba,” Yoongi says, sounding so desperate. “Please touch me, please please.”
“Fuck, of course,” Hoseok nods. His hand sneaks down between their bodies and he grabs ahold of Yoongi’s leaking cock. So small, fits perfectly in his hand. Yoongi gasps desperately, beads of his sweat dripping onto Hoseok’s skin as he plays with him.
“Yes! Hoba,” Yoongi keens, and he slams himself down onto Hoseok one last time before he’s cumming desperately into Hoseok’s hand. Hoseok’s seen him cum several thousand times, but he’ll never get over the look on his face when it happens. The bliss, the carefree beauty of the man he loves as pure ecstasy floods through him. Hoseok wants to ask him to get married every time he sees Yoongi dissolve so prettily for him, but he’s already gone and married him. He needs to super marry him. Ultra marry him.
“Marry me,” he says, kissing Yoongi’s neck and ear as he pushes up into him intensely. Hoseok can play Yoongi’s body like any musical virtuoso plays their instrument, so he knows exactly what Yoongi needs. If Yoongi doesn’t get the sensation of Hoseok’s release deep in his guts, he’ll legitimately be pissed at him.
“Anytime,” Yoongi keens, his voice so, so weak after his orgasm, but he rolls his hips down onto Hoseok anyway.
“Gonna make you mine, Yoongi. You want that?”
“Fuck,” Yoongi groans weakly, clearly not fully recovered.
Hoseok loves when his Yoongi gets so pliable and desperate. There’s something particularly hot about Yoongi still being draped on top of him, unable to form syllables, all he can do is just take what Hoseok gives him, moaning and silently begging for more, more, please God more.
“You’re so pretty, Yoongi,” Hoseok says, pushing sweaty hair out of his face to kiss Yoongi’s lips in a desperate, wet kiss.
“Please,” Yoongi begs.
“Almost,” Hoseok says, and he focuses on long, slow thrusts that might hurt Yoongi a bit but if they do, he likes them too much to ask Hoseok to stop. On the one hand, he wishes he could prolong the feeling of Yoongi for as long as possible. But on the other, he can’t handle the tightness, the raw, heavenly feeling of his husband.
“Please. Want it,” Yoongi begs again. Maybe because he asks so nicely, Hoseok simply gives up. Like falling down a waterfall, only the crash is welcome and euphoric. He just feels himself cum way, way too much inside of Yoongi and his ears muffle with the pressure of his orgasm, his limbs, down to his fingers and toes all tingling with the waves of it. Yoongi clenches around him to prolong the moment which makes him keen like a dog. He must sound ridiculous because Yoongi chuckles at him, but he can’t hear anything besides Yoongi’s breath and maybe the ocean through a seashell.
Hoseok’s sure he’ll see out his ears and hear out of his eyes once he opens them because all of his senses got mixed up after that. He groans, the feeling of Yoongi still pressed against every single inch of skin is the best feeling in the world. He’s all content and relaxed, and a bit out of breath.
Hoseok’s hands find their way to Yoongi’s hips, stroking his skin a little possessively.
“Ohhh, my baby. Love you so much, baby.”
“Love you more,” Yoongi kisses his cheek and then his lips softly. He looks very sated. Hard with this one, Yoongi is actually what Hoseok would call insatiable.
Hoseok yawns, trying to stretch himself out, and maybe separate from Yoongi a little bit, but Yoongi doesn’t let him.
“Mmm, just stay like this,” Yoongi says, cuddling into Hoseok’s neck and shoulder warmly. He’s still… well, Hoseok is still very much inside of him and that’s a weird feeling for him.
“With me… inside?”
“Yeah, just for a few minutes,” Yoongi sighs. “Need the feeling. It’s comforting.”
“Okay, baby,” Hoseok says, because Yoongi can always have whatever he wants. Not because he’s in charge or anything. Hoseok is just down that bad for him.
“Love you more than anything,” Yoongi says softly. His eyes are closed and he’s stroking Hoseok’s side softly. “My Hobi. Hoba. Boba.”
“You’re so soft,” Hoseok giggles. Yoongi is a little drunk on the after-sex glow. Maybe he’s feeling tingly all over like Hoseok is. Hoseok is always tingly whenever he’s with Yoongi.
Yoongi kisses his neck because it’s what’s closest to him. “I wanna watch a movie and cuddle and stay up all night talking like when we were young. Mmmh, like Christmas Eve, the night I met you.”
Hoseok is wary of his ability to stay up past 1 in the morning, but for Yoongi he’ll stay up until next week. The two of them have a communication level that is rivaled by no one else ever, so he’ll never say no to talking to Yoongi all night. Even if he’s heard every story Yoongi’s ever told, and knows every detail of his life until this point. This is Yoongi! His whole husband! All night! Hoseok loves him so much.
“I want that too. If I fall asleep, you can just give me big kisses. I’ll wake up to kiss you back.”
Yoongi smiles, and settles his head down into Hoseok’s neck. He’s kind of a blanket, but also kind of a rock. Hoseok’s doesn’t mind, Yoongi is not a very large person. In fact, he’s quite a small person. His hair smells really nice, so Hoseok presses his nose into him, and then just cradles Yoongi’s head. It hasn’t occurred to him that he’s still on the floor until he looks up to see the front door right in front of him. He laughs a little to himself. Yeah, insatiable definitely is the right word for Yoongi.
“Fuck, Hoba,” Yoongi sighs, resettling himself, maybe clenching a little around him. “You’re so big. It’s like you’re in my stomach.”
Now Hoseok knows that’s not the truth because his dick gets way smaller when it’s not hard, but Yoongi is the only person he’s ever been with and he just really likes to compliment Hoseok whenever he gets the chance. Hoseok scoffs anyway and tells Yoongi he’s being silly.
“No seriously. Maybe I’ll do this more often. Like having you inside me. You should always be here, don’t you think?”
“I thought after marriage, people’s sex drives are supposed to go down.”
“Well, you married me,” Yoongi points out. A better point has never been made. It is of course not common, but he can recall nights where he’s had to turn Yoongi down, but there’s never been a night where Yoongi has turned him down. If he’s awake, he wants to fuck.
“Wise choice, Hoseok. Pat on the back,” he says, making Yoongi laugh. Hoseok kisses his head about a dozen times. He doesn’t think his life could possibly have turned out better. The nicest, sweetest, softest, cutest husband in the world who loves him back almost as much as Hoseok loves him. Wants sex more than Hoseok’s body can accommodate but he makes up for it in spirit.
“Hoba… Boba…” Yoongi whines softly. The way he usually does when he’s about to ask Hoseok to do something he’s too lazy to do himself. Like grab his phone that he left on the kitchen counter or turn the light off.
“Baby?”
“Do you think you can reach the remote from here?”
“You want to watch TV from here? On the floor? Lying on the cold hard ground?”
Yoongi pauses for a moment, cuddling his hair against Hoseok’s cheek. “There’s a rug.”
“I’m gonna stand up, Yoongi.”
“No! Nooo!” he whines. Again, what Yoongi wants, Yoongi tends to get.
Well, that’s how they end up watching a movie on the tiny, tiny screen that is Hoseok’s phone. Until his phone runs out of battery so they finish it on Yoongi’s phone. Until Hoseok falls asleep. So, Yoongi kisses him awake. And so on. So forth.
And like every night Hoseok spends with Yoongi, it is the best night ever.