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“Seok-ah, I need your help.”
Hoseok looks up from where he’s sitting with his phone on the hotel bed. His eyes widen when he sees Yoongi.
“What happened?” He asks, jumping up.
“I don’t know. I dropped the soap, bent down to get it, and my back seized up,” Yoongi answers. He’s hunched over a little, holding his lower back with one hand while the other is clenched into a fist. “Get me a painkiller.”
“You need a chiropractor, not a painkiller,” Hoseok says, stepping up to Yoongi.
Yoongi’s hair is wet. His whole body is wet actually. Yoongi is only glad he managed to get the towel around his waist before getting out of the bathroom. It might have been one of the more embarrassing moments of his life, standing in the bathroom and failing at putting on underwear.
“Yeah, well, it’s one AM, just get me a painkiller,” Yoongi says. “It’ll be better in the morning.”
“No, it’s gonna be worse in the morning,” Hoseok says, stepping behind Yoongi. “Where’s the pain exactly?”
“Like, here,” Yoongi runs a hand across his lower back. “It doesn’t hurt that much. Just a little bit if I move.”
“Does this hurt?” Hoseok rubs Yoongi’s lower back, pressing slightly.
“A little,” Yoongi answers.
“Right, then it’s not too bad yet,” Hoseok says. “Lie down on the bed.”
“What?” Yoongi shakes his head. “Just get me the painkiller.”
“No, you’re gonna lie down on the bed, I’m gonna crack your back and fix it,” Hoseok says.
“You’re not cracking anything,” Yoongi protests.
“I know how to do it,” Hoseok says.
“You know how to crack people’s backs?” Yoongi asks. “You’re gonna literally break me.”
Hoseok leans to the side so Yoongi can see him roll his eyes.
“Do you remember when Jimin had that infection in his back? When we had the chiropractor guy with us helping him every time his back seized up?” Hoseok asks.
“’Course I remember,” Yoongi replies.
“Well, I asked him to teach me how he does it. Just in case it happens again and he’s not around,” Hoseok says.
“Did you ever actually do it?” Yoongi asks.
“A couple times,” Hoseok replies. “I’m not a chiropractor by any means, but I can help with this.”
Yoongi sighs, looking up at Hoseok.
“Okay, fine,” he says. “Just be careful.”
“Of course I’ll be careful,” Hoseok walks away from Yoongi.
Yoongi takes the moment to try to straighten up, then swears under his breath when the pain shoots up his back.
“Don’t-“ Hoseok steps up in front of him, shaking his head, “-hurt yourself.”
He’s brought another towel from the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks when Hoseok drags the towel gently across his back.
“Drying you off,” Hoseok answers.
“Why?” Yoongi asks.
“’Cus you’re all wet,” Hoseok answers.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Yoongi says. “And about the only-wearing-a-towel thing.”
“Please,” Hoseok scoffs. “As if I’ve never seen you naked.”
“Yeah, well, I was trying to save whatever dignity I had left,” Yoongi says. Hoseok brings the towel to his hair.
“Nothing to be ashamed about down there,” Hoseok comments.
“Can you not?” Yoongi blushes, and Hoseok laughs.
Hoseok towels off Yoongi’s hair for another moment then throws the now wet towel onto a chair by the bed.
“Okay, I’m gonna need you to lie face down on the bed,” he says. “Do you think you can straighten up?”
“Nothing will ever make me straight again,” Yoongi comments, voice flat.
“Really?” Hoseok asks, clearly not impressed. It makes Yoongi smile anyway.
“Appreciate my puns dammit,” Yoongi complains. Hoseok laughs through his nose. “No, I don’t think I can straighten up.”
Hoseok nods then walks to stand behind him.
“Okay,” he gets his hands under Yoongi’s arms and up to hold Yoongi’s shoulders. “I’m gonna pull you up. If the towel is that important to you, now would be the time to hold it. Take a deep breath, please.”
Yoongi grabs onto the towel with one hand and breathes in. When Hoseok pulls, he has to hold back a whimper.
“Yoongi, breathe,” Hoseok says, a commanding edge to his tone.
He breathes out carefully, then back in.
“Good, good,” Hoseok whispers. He wraps his arms around Yoongi’s torso, holding him up.
Yoongi keeps breathing slowly. His body sags a little, head falling back onto Hoseok’s shoulder. He’s probably getting Hoseok’s shirt wet with his hair.
“I think I’m better already,” he breathes. He feels Hoseok chuckle against him.
“Come on, on the bed,” Hoseok says.
He doesn’t let go of Yoongi, rather, he continues hugging him all the way to the bed.
“One knee at a time,” Hoseok says.
“Can I put on underwear first?” Yoongi asks.
“Can you actually bend down to do that?” Hoseok asks.
“No…” Yoongi says. He realizes that the other option would be for Hoseok to help him put them on, but he’d like to save himself from any additional embarrassment.
“Since when are you so shy?” Hoseok teases while Yoongi raises a knee onto the bed.
“I’m not,” Yoongi protests. “I don’t mind walking around you in my underwear, but for some completely unclear reason, the idea of my dick flopping around doesn’t sound the most attractive.”
“Who exactly are you trying to attract here?” Hoseok giggles, helping Yoongi get the other knee onto the bed.
“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi says.
With a hand on Yoongi’s chest and another on his back, Hoseok helps Yoongi lean forward and lay his head on the pillow.
“Is that good?” Hoseok asks.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says into the pillow.
When Hoseok straddles the back of Yoongi’s thighs, Yoongi thinks about how they’ve never done this before. He’s never let Hoseok massage him like this before.
He doesn’t mind Hoseok touching him, ever. He likes being close to Hoseok, likes hugging him, holding his hand. But massages. The problem is just massages. Yoongi likes massages a lot. Too much. He avoids them as best as he can. There’s something about it. The deep pressure, the confidence in the person giving the massage. It just… well, it reminds him of sex. So his body tends to… react to it the way it would react to sex. And yeah, he doesn’t mind Hoseok touching him, but he does mind popping a boner in his face.
This isn’t a massage though, not really. When Hoseok’s hands land on his back, he’s still too focused on the pain to really get into it. Not that he’s ever minded pain too much anyway. Still. It doesn’t really feel like he’s being massaged. Hoseok is really careful, really gentle, poking around, getting a feel for the muscles. And Yoongi’s body is too coiled up to do anything at all.
“You’re tight everywhere, not just in your lower back. How do you function?” Hoseok actually sounds a little astonished.
His palms drag down Yoongi’s back on either side of his spine, stopping close to the edge of the towel.
“Is this where it hurts the most?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes out, toes curling.
Hoseok goes around groping Yoongi’s back a little while longer, and Yoongi isn’t sure why he’s doing that until he starts feeling his muscles relaxing. It’s sort of an involuntary feeling, he thinks, because it still hurts, and he’s still tense, but the muscles are loosening anyway.
His eyes start drooping.
“Breathe out,” Hoseok instructs, hand’s stopping on Yoongi’s lower back. Yoongi exhales. “Three, two, one.”
Snap.
“Fuck!” Yoongi exclaims, eyes flying open.
“And again,” Hoseok says, voice calm. “Breathe out.”
Yoongi exhales once again, more deliberately this time. Hoseok’s hands go up a few inches, stop, press, and –
Snap.
“Oh, my god!” Yoongi’s hands clench into fists.
“How do you feel?” Hoseok asks.
“How do I feel?!” Yoongi exclaims. “That fucking-“ a pause, “actually, I don’t feel that bad.”
Hoseok’s hands run up his back.
“A little unwound?” Hoseok asks calmly.
“Uhm,” Yoongi exhales, “yeah, actually.”
“You sound very surprised,” Hoseok says, palms dragging on either side of Yoongi’s spine again.
“Yeah, like, it hurt in the moment, but now…” Yoongi’s eyelids start drooping again.
“Now, I want you to sit back on your heels,” Hoseok says.
Yoongi almost protests. He feels good right now. But then Hoseok grabs his hips and start pulling, so he braces his hands and follows instructions.
There’s still some pain, he assesses himself as he readjusts the towel, but it’s dull, almost nothing.
Hoseok looks quite satisfied with himself, smile tugging at his lips.
“Your back looks straight,” Hoseok says. “One to ten, how much does it hurt?”
“Like, one? Maybe two,” Yoongi says. He pushes his shoulders back. It feels okay. “No more than usual.”
“Good,” Hoseok nods. “Stand up. Walk around a little.”
Yoongi listens, standing up. He walks back and forth a few times, kind of amazed.
“You’re good,” he says to Hoseok.
“Thanks,” Hoseok smiles. “It might start hurting again tomorrow. But even if it doesn’t, I think you should get checked by someone professional.”
“Okay,” Yoongi agrees.
“For now, lie down on your back,” Hoseok says.
Yoongi lies down on the bed slowly, head on the pillow, while Hoseok walks towards his suitcase and rummages through it.
“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks.
Hoseok stands up and sticks something into his back pocket before Yoongi can see what, then walks up to Yoongi’s bed and straddles his thighs.
“What are you doing?” Yoongi repeats, grabbing the towel so it doesn’t open. “What did you take?”
He tries to get up but Hoseok pins him to the bed by his shoulders.
“I’m going to keep massaging you,” he says casually.
“I’m better,” Yoongi protests. “You don’t need to.”
“I want to,” Hoseok says.
“Why?” Yoongi asks.
“Because you never let me,” he says, “and I like doing it.”
“What do you mean I never let you?” Yoongi blushes. “I totally let you massage me.”
“You let me rub your shoulders sometimes,” Hoseok says. “Sometimes your neck. Never like this though.”
Yoongi doesn’t have a reply to that.
“Everyone lets me but you,” Hoseok says. “Tell me why and I’ll get off you.”
Yoongi opens his mouth then closes it. His eyes meet Hoseok’s. Hoseok is all confident, all nonchalant, but Yoongi can see in his eyes that he’s a little bit offended, maybe even upset. It makes Yoongi feel guilty.
“It’s not about you really,” Yoongi sighs. “It’s just that I really like massages.”
Hoseok’s eyebrows crease. “Yeah, I think lost you,” he says.
Yoongi sighs again.
“I really like massages,” Yoongi repeats, emphasizing the words. It should make sense. Does it not? “Like, a lot.”
Hoseok lets go of Yoongi’s shoulders and sits back. He squints his eyes, head leaned to the side. His facial features smooth out a few moments later. And… he’s laughing. Why is he laughing?
“Why are you laughing?” Yoongi asks, unable to stop himself from blushing.
“You’re afraid of getting a boner?” Hoseok asks. “Is that why you never let me massage you?”
“It’s not funny,” Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest. Hoseok keeps laughing.
“It is funny though,” Hoseok says. “What, you think the others never got a boner while I was massaging them? Please.”
“Really?” Yoongi asks.
“Of course! It’s normal! Massages feel good, they’re supposed to feel good,” Hoseok smiles. “It makes sense for the body to react to it. Especially since you’re comfortable with me touching you.”
“So…” Yoongi blinks, dropping his hands to his sides. “What do you do about it?”
“We don’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims. “Just ignore it. Or if it’s Jimin, who gets one every single time I massage him, I’ll like, make a joke about it or something. Or if it’s Jeongguk, we stop, and he runs away. Most likely to masturbate in the bathroom. Don’t tell him I said that.”
Yoongi laughs, can’t help it.
“So, like, you’re not offended by it?” he asks.
“Why in the world would I be offended by it?” Hoseok smiles. “It’s a compliment. It’s your body telling me that I’m really good.”
Now Yoongi feels kind of stupid.
“I’m going to massage you now,” Hoseok announces. No place for arguments, it seems.
Hoseok reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small plastic bottle. There’s a whole moment where Yoongi feels like his life has been turned over onto its head, and then he realizes that, no, dumbass, it’s not fucking lube, why would it be lube. It’s just oil.
It’s oil.
“No,” Yoongi says.
“What? Why?” Hoseok whines a little.
“I just got out of the shower,” Yoongi says. “I’m not going back into the shower at one AM because you decided to pour oil on me.”
“Fine,” Hoseok pouts, dropping the bottle next to Yoongi’s feet. “It’s better with oil though.”
“Why is it so much better with oil?” Yoongi asks.
Hoseok places his hands on Yoongi’s chest, just below the collarbones.
“Makes it easier to move,” Hoseok says, lightly running his palms over to Yoongi’s shoulders. “Also, the oil heats up quickly which helps the body stay warm.”
“Bottle looks pretty full,” Yoongi comments. “You ever actually use it?”
“Once,” Hoseok smiles. “Jimin let me use it on his back.”
“Yeah, that’s another question,” Yoongi says.
“What?” Hoseok drags his palms back to the center of Yoongi’s chest then down to his stomach.
“Why are you doing my front?” Yoongi asks. “My back is the problem area, not my front.”
“I want to lay off your back a little,” Hoseok’s voice is soft. “Let it rest.”
“It feels better now,” Yoongi says. When Hoseok doesn’t say anything else, Yoongi takes a deep breath and tries to relax.
He feels calmer about this than he expected. Maybe talking about his boner-popping anxiety made him less anxious? Although, Hoseok is not exactly giving him the kind of massage he really gets off on. He’s too gentle. Confident, yeah, but too gentle. Maybe that’s why he feels comfortable right now. Or maybe it’s just because this is Hoseok.
It’s clear that it’s not the first time Hoseok has done this though. His hands move with ease. Down the sides of Yoongi’s ribcage, up to the center of his chest, over his shoulders, down his arms then retrace the steps to his ribcage. Yoongi can’t stop looking at Hoseok’s face though. He looks so concentrated, lip caught between his teeth. Maybe that’s why Yoongi’s comfortable, can’t really focus on how good it feels when he’s distracted by Hoseok’s face.
“You know,” Hoseok says. “When you said you loved massages so much, I was expecting a much stronger reaction. You seem unaffected. Should I be insulted?”
“No, it feels okay,” Yoongi replies.
“Just okay?” Hoseok squints his eyes, his hands pausing on Yoongi’s shoulders.
Before Yoongi can answer, Hoseok drags his hands back down Yoongi’s chest, a lot firmer this time.
Yoongi’s breath hitches.
“There we go,” Hoseok says. Yoongi can feel himself blushing. “You like it hard.”
It’s not a question, and Yoongi can’t help but think about the other insinuations of that statement. Yeah, he likes it hard. And Hoseok knows it now. Seems he doesn’t feel bad about using that knowledge either.
He doesn’t let up, his hands getting even firmer, heels of his palms digging into Yoongi’s skin. Yoongi controls his breathing forcefully, but Hoseok can see through him anyway.
And this is exactly why Yoongi doesn’t do massages.
Yoongi closes his eyes, doesn’t want to see the little smirk on Hoseok’s face. It’s stupid. This lack of self control. When Hoseok kneads the junction between his neck and shoulder, he can’t help the blood rushing between his legs. Just can’t help it.
Yoongi reaches up and grabs Hoseok’s wrists. He keeps his eyes closed, breathes deeply, knows that Hoseok can see him blushing, can probably see him getting hard too.
“God,” Hoseok whispers.
“What?” Yoongi’s voice is harsh, but he knows his facial expression doesn’t match it.
“Responsive,” Hoseok replies.
Yoongi opens his eyes. Hoseok is a lot closer than Yoongi remembers him being, leaning over him. The smirk is gone. Instead, Hoseok’s eyes are running over Yoongi’s face, seemingly fascinated.
“Fuck off,” Yoongi whispers.
“No, it’s…” Hoseok doesn’t seem to know what to say.
He looks down, and Yoongi is afraid to follow his line of sight.
“Hmm,” Hoseok hums.
“What?” Yoongi whispers.
“Grower,” Hoseok says.
“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi’s voice is louder this time.
Hoseok laughs. Yoongi lets go of Hoseok’s wrists and covers his face with his palms.
“The others usually take longer to get to this point,” Hoseok teases. Yoongi groans.
“Just keep talking and it’ll go away, I promise,” Yoongi retorts.
Hoseok removes Yoongi’s hands from his face and pins them to the bed.
“Is pinning people down a kink for you?” Yoongi asks.
Hoseok doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t let go of Yoongi either.
“How’s your back?” Hoseok asks.
“Way to change the subject,” Yoongi teases.
“I’m changing the subject for your sake,” Hoseok says. “Don’t call me out on it.”
“For my sake?” Yoongi scoffs. “Right when we start talking about your kinks-“
“I’m sorry, you wanna go back to talking about your hard-on?” Hoseok interrupts.
Yoongi stops.
“My back’s fine,” he says. Hoseok smirks. “Now, get off.”’
“No,” Hoseok says, finally lets go of Yoongi’s wrists and looks down. “You’re even less relaxed than before. I refuse to have the first massage I ever give you be this bad.”
“I’m not going to relax with you looking at it!” Yoongi exclaims.
“Okay,” Hoseok looks up at Yoongi. “Then turn over.”
The shiver that just went up Yoongi’s spine. Yeah, fuck the shiver. It’s just Hoseok damnit. Yoongi knows he doesn’t mean it that way.
“I can’t,” Yoongi says.
“Yeah, you can,” Hoseok shoots back. Yoongi almost laughs.
“No, I literally can’t,” he repeats. “Did you forget you’re sitting on me?”
“Oh,” Hoseok climbs off Yoongi.
Yoongi hesitates.
He can say no. Hoseok won’t make him do it if he really doesn’t want to. Go to sleep. Save himself the embarrassment. But he sees Hoseok biting his lower lip, fingers twitching while he waits for Yoongi to make a decision. And well, if he turns onto his stomach, Hoseok won't be able to see his erection. And then it won't be that bad.
Yoongi sighs, grabs onto the towel and flips over.
When he looks at Hoseok then, he's smiling. And yeah, okay. If it makes Hoseok happy, Yoongi can take it.
He has to reach down under the towel to adjust himself, lay his cock flat against his stomach, and he's sort of happy to find that he's gone a little soft. He knows Hoseok sees him doing it, and that stops him from going any softer.
Hoseok straddles Yoongi’s thighs again, holding the top of the towel for Yoongi so that it doesn't ride up. Sweet gesture. Considering the teasing from before.
He expects Hoseok to start strong right away, so he isn't sure what to do with himself when Hoseok's fingers thread through his hair softly.
"I understand that you like it hard," Hoseok says, dragging the pads of his fingers over Yoongi's scalp. Yoongi can't stop the goosebumps now either. "But I'm going to start softly anyway. Tell me if it gets too painful, okay?"
"Okay," Yoongi nods into the pillow.
Hoseok pulls his fingers down Yoongi's scalp, down his neck, down his back, digging them in a little bit. Going slowly. Then his hands go back up, palms flat, all the way up to Yoongi’s shoulders. He increases the pressure consistently, and Yoongi says nothing to stop him, slowly but surely getting hard again.
He sort of starts to regret turning over.
Yeah, Hoseok can't see his erection now, but the friction he's getting from the damn towel might actually make him come. It'll be painful. Both because the towel isn't exactly a surface you want to rub yourself off on, and emotionally. It will be painful to his soul. If he orgasms with Hoseok massaging him, Hoseok will never let him live it down. Hell, Yoongi won't let himself live it down. Just got to control the hips, not to grind down.
“You’re still tense,” Hoseok comments.
“Sorry,” Yoongi apologizes.
“Don’t apologize,” Hoseok says. “Tell me how to make it better.”
“It’s really good,” Yoongi says. No need to make it better. Making it better would be too good.
“Then relax,” Hoseok fists his hands, drags his knuckles harshly up the sides of Yoongi’s spine.
Yoongi inhales. Doesn’t stop inhaling until Hoseok’s hands reach his neck. Then he’s not breathing. His toes curl. He can’t grind. Must not grind. Self control.
“Exhale,” Hoseok instructs, running his flat palms back down.
Yoongi exhales as instructed, but his breath hitches again when Hoseok presses the heels of his palms into Yoongi’s lower back.
“Hurts?” Hoseok asks, relieving some of the pressure.
“A little,” Yoongi clenches his hands into the pillow. “It’s good pain.”
“You sure?” Hoseok presses again.
Yoongi’s hips twitch involuntarily.
“Yeah,” he chokes out.
“Okay,” Hoseok says. And then his hands are gone. Yoongi’s not sure what happened. He also isn’t sure whether he should complain or not. He wants to complain.
There’s a rustle of fabric behind him and then he sees Hoseok’s shirt fly onto the floor.
“Did you just take your shirt off?” Yoongi asks.
“I was getting warm,” Hoseok answers. And before Yoongi can question him further, the hands are back.
He wants to ask something along the lines of ‘why were you getting so warm?’, or ‘why does it feel so suggestive?’ or maybe ‘why did that make my dick twitch?’
Okay, not that last one.
But really, with the way Hoseok is grabbing onto him, all Yoongi is focused on is not making noises. He hates not having control over himself. Hates it.
And it’s not fair. He’s all hard and flustered and unable to do anything about it, while Hoseok is just… probably really getting off on it. Even if it’s not in a sexual way, his ego is getting the best handjob in the world right now.
Ugh. He shouldn’t be thinking about handjobs.
“Stop thinking,” Hoseok says.
“Can’t,” Yoongi replies.
“Well, then tell me what you’re thinking about,” Hoseok runs his hands down the sides of Yoongi’s lower back.
He’s thinking about how Hoseok may be a little bit of a dom in bed.
“I’m thinking about song lyrics,” Yoongi lies.
“Yeah, right,” Hoseok says, dragging his hands back up. It’s a testament to Hoseok’s talent that despite Yoongi’s thoughts going one hundred miles an hour, his muscles are still unwinding. “You’re thinking about sex.”
He’s not wrong.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything.
“Why do massages make you think about sex?” Hoseok asks.
“What do you mean ‘why’?” Yoongi asks. “It’s a massage. Doesn’t everyone think of sex during a massage?”
“Maybe,” Hoseok says. “But your reaction is stronger than the others’.”
Yoongi hopes his back doesn’t flush when he blushes.
“It’s just,” Yoongi sighs. “It’s human contact, it’s… confidence and… powerplay.”
“Powerplay,” Hoseok repeats, hands going up the sides of Yoongi’s torso.
“Yeah, like, the person giving the massage having power over the person receiving it,” Yoongi explains.
“No, I got what you meant,” he says. “I just didn’t know you were into it.”
“I didn’t know you were into it,” Yoongi blushes again.
“Who said that I am?” Hoseok asks, fingers digging into Yoongi’s shoulders.
“You didn’t have to say it,” Yoongi sighs.
When Hoseok doesn’t deny it, Yoongi feels like he won something. That is until Hoseok spreads his hands over the planes of Yoongi’s back, presses his thumbs against Yoongi’s spine and drags them down so deeply and so firmly, Yoongi’s hips rise up with the touch without ever being given permission to do so.
His hips are actually off the bed by the time Hoseok’s hands get to the small of his back, and they’ve got to come down now. Hoseok has stopped moving, and Yoongi has stopped breathing. When his hips come back down, the friction on his cock is so uncomfortable but so good, and he grunts and blushes and buries his face into the pillow all in one motion.
“Sorry,” he says when a few seconds go by and Hoseok doesn’t move.
“It’s-” Hoseok whispers, pauses, “-it’s okay.”
“You can stop now,” Yoongi says.
“Why?” Hoseok asks.
Yoongi swallows. “Because this is weird.”
“It’s not,” Hoseok says.
Yoongi wants to argue, he does, but when something hard presses into the top of his thigh, he pauses. It doesn’t hit him right away. He thinks it’s the bottle of oil first. But a quick look to the side confirms that the bottle is still calmly laying on the bed.
“Does that happen with the others?” Yoongi asks quietly.
“What?” Hoseok asks. There is no chance that he doesn’t know what Yoongi is talking about, no chance.
“You getting hard,” Yoongi says.
There’s a long pause where nobody talks. It’s so much easier to hear Yoongi’s heavy breathing that way.
“No,” Hoseok says eventually.
And things feel different now.
Yoongi isn’t nearly as embarrassed now about being hard, but he isn’t any calmer either. Hoseok moves right away and slides down to straddle Yoongi’s calves.
It’s weird. Kind of. Knowing that Hoseok is hard too. Whatever sexual thoughts Yoongi had before are much more focused now. It’s inappropriate to imagine it, but he can’t stop himself.
“I wanna do your thighs now,” Hoseok says.
Definitely can’t stop himself from imagining it.
“Is that okay?” Hoseok asks when Yoongi doesn’t say anything.
He knows why Hoseok is asking. If he’s going to massage Yoongi’s thighs, the towel needs to go. Somewhere. He’s not sure he really understand what’s happening, but for now-
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
He doesn’t think Hoseok will take the towel off completely, and he’s right. Yoongi lifts his hips, and Hoseok pulls the towel from under him. The sheets are soft against Yoongi’s cock when he lies back down.
Hoseok folds the towel up, exposes Yoongi’s thighs but keeps his ass covered. His hands are soft when he places them near the backs of Yoongi’s knees. He knows Yoongi is sensitive there, a little ticklish really, so his touch firms up quickly.
It’s quiet.
And tense.
And Yoongi doesn’t know what to do about it.
Hoseok’s hands slide up, and Yoongi finds himself breathing hard, clenching the pillow.
He wonders how far up the hands will go.
They stop just shy of Yoongi’s ass, the thumbs moving to the outsides of his thighs. Like drawing a line. Then going back down.
He’s physically fighting himself from saying ‘fuck it’ and grinding down. Down and down and down, regardless of the embarrassment. He doesn’t remember the last time he was so sexually frustrated. He doesn’t remember the last time he was touched like this.
It’s been so long. So fucking long since the last time he’s been with someone. Years. And he misses it. God, does he miss it. He feels overheated, oversensitive, like a goddamn virgin all over again.
His dick twitches, asshole clenching, and he grunts in frustration.
“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks.
“Yeah,” Yoongi’s voice is harsher than intended.
Hoseok is not stupid though. He knows what he’s doing, has to know. He knows that Yoongi is hard, has been hard for however fucking long now. And he’s not stopping. His hands are just getting firmer, inching slowly beyond that line, thumbs just ghosting under Yoongi’s ass. And this is not only him, okay? Hoseok is hard too. And something is happening while at the same time nothing is happening at all, and Yoongi is fucking pissed at that.
So, the next time Hoseok’s hands climb up towards his ass, Yoongi bites his lip and grinds onto them. Screw the embarrassment, he’ll deal with it.
When Hoseok gasps, Yoongi grins.
He doesn’t know what he expected to happen, but it wasn’t for Hoseok to keep going up. Up and around, thumbs going under the towel and literally tracing the shape of Yoongi’s ass.
The towel rides up. Not all the way but enough. Enough for the cool air to hit Yoongi’s balls and the bottom of his cheeks. Hoseok pauses, and Yoongi knows he’s looking, but he can’t bring himself to say anything to stop him.
Hoseok’s hands don’t come back down to his thighs, they dig into the sides of Yoongi’s ass instead. There’s a muscle there that Hoseok is working, rubbing tiny circles over it.
“Is this okay?” Hoseok whispers.
Yoongi nods into the pillow.
They can stop, think of this as a massage with weird unresolved sexual tension between two guys who haven’t had sex with anyone in years. Physical reaction to human contact. Nothing more. They might be embarrassed about it for a little while, but they’ll get over it. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.
“What are you thinking about?” Hoseok asks softly.
He’s thinking about how much he doesn’t want to stop.
“Sex,” he whispers.
“It’s been years,” Hoseok says. It’s not a question.
“Yeah,” Yoongi answers anyway.
“Do you miss it?” Hoseok asks. His fingers go up to Yoongi’s ass, and the towel goes up with them, bunches up on his lower back.
“Don’t you?” Yoongi says.
He’s completely exposed.
He wonders if Hoseok can see his hole clenching.
Hoseok’s hands come back down to the sides of Yoongi’s ass, dig into that muscle again.
“I do,” he answers, voice breathy. “I miss fucking.”
There’s something about hearing him say it like that. The desperation in his voice. It makes Yoongi shudder.
Hoseok scoots closer, sits on Yoongi’s thighs again. Yoongi can feel Hoseok’s cock against his upper thigh.
The thumbs come back down, settle under Yoongi’s ass, then trace two lines over his cheeks up to his lower back. There’s no real pressure in it, no reason to do it. And when they come back down, they’re closer, just a little closer to where he can’t stop clenching.
Yoongi pants, fists his hands into the pillow harder.
And the hands go up again. And down. They stop so close, holding him open just a little, just enough so Hoseok can see everything. He’s almost there, and Yoongi is biting his lower lip and forcefully holding his hips down.
“Yoongi?” Hoseok asks. Yoongi makes a shaky noise of acknowledgment. “Tell me to stop.”
Hoseok’s voice is so assertive, like he’s desperate for Yoongi to say something. But Yoongi is desperate too, so he says nothing at all.
He cants his hips up a little, and when Hoseok’s thumb finally traces over his hole, Yoongi moans so brokenly he has to bury his face in the pillow again.
His hips push up against that finger, and Hoseok presses a bit harder, his other hand grabbing Yoongi’s cheek and spreading him apart. It’s dry, and the friction is too much, but Yoongi grinds down anyway, onto the sheets and back up again, as far as he can with Hoseok sitting on him.
The next time he clenches, it’s like his body is trying to pull Hoseok in, and he’d be embarrassed if he didn’t feel Hoseok pushing right back into him.
Hoseok is panting behind him, and Yoongi wants to know what Hoseok looks like right now. He wants to know what Hoseok is thinking right now. His thumb is tracing circles around Yoongi’s rim, pressing, almost going in but not. And Yoongi can’t stop grinding.
When the tip of Hoseok’s thumb slips inside, Yoongi stops moving. He doesn’t push back, knows that it’ll hurt without lube, but god does he want to. He shoots one hand out from under the pillow, pats the bed blindly until his palm lands on what he’s looking for.
Not lube. Oil. But it’ll do.
He tosses the bottle in Hoseok’s general direction, hopes that the message is clear. When Hoseok’s hands leave his body, he whimpers.
It’s shameless, the way he grinds down, throwing the towel off his back, knowing full well that Hoseok is watching, but they’ve gone beyond pretending nothing’s happening, so he can’t bring himself to care. Hoseok’s hand comes back, holds his hips down, and then wetness. Cold liquid pouring down between his cheeks all the way to his balls. It makes his toes curl.
Both of Hoseok’s hands spread him, and the cold air suddenly hitting his hole makes goosebumps rise on his skin. He makes an impatient noise and arches his lower back. It’s filthy and desperate and he blushes, but when Hoseok finally presses a finger into him again, it’s worth it.
His body opens up so easily it surprises him. It surprises Hoseok too, if the gasp he lets out is anything to go by. Yoongi pushes his hips up, tries to get it all in. And then Hoseok moves again, like he just remembered what he’s doing. He grinds down onto Yoongi’s thigh, his finger sliding all the way inside, the other hand holding Yoongi open.
He moves his finger gently, and even though he’s already inside, it still feels like teasing. Harder, dammit. Did he forget everything already?
Yoongi grunts and shoves himself against Hoseok’s finger a couple times. When Hoseok finally gets the memo, it’s the best thing in the world, because he fingers with the same confidence he has when he massages. Firm, deep, persistent.
“Another one,” Yoongi whispers.
“What?” Hoseok pants.
“Give me another one,” Yoongi repeats louder.
There’s a pause, then Hoseok’s finger pulls almost all the way out. He twists two fingers into Yoongi, thrusting them in hard, and Yoongi has to clench the sheets it’s so good.
“Good?” Hoseok asks.
Yoongi can only moan in response.
Hoseok thrusts his fingers harshly a few more times, and Yoongi thinks he’s purposefully avoiding his prostate. It still feels so good though, so he can’t even be angry about it. He is angry when the fingers leave though, and he tries to convey that with grunting.
He turns his head, tries to see what’s going on but can’t. All he knows is that Hoseok is scrambling to get off him, and that makes him panic for a second. He’s back just as fast though, and there are no pants on him this time. And that’s okay. That’s better. Hoseok’s hard cock laying heavily on Yoongi’s butt cheek? Yup. That’s definitely better.
It’s another moment before Hoseok brings his hands back, and when he does, they’re so much wetter. They’re so oily that Hoseok has to properly dig his fingers into Yoongi’s flesh to hold his cheeks apart. He slips one thumb deep into Yoongi, and the other one follows quickly after that. They’re thicker than the other two fingers, and when Hoseok pulls them apart, and Yoongi can feel himself stretching and gaping, he can do nothing but gasp.
“Fuck,” Hoseok whispers.
Yoongi has to agree with that statement.
“Fuck,” Hoseok repeats.
He takes his fingers out, and the bed dips on the sides of Yoongi’s torso where Hoseok braces himself. He grinds his cock against Yoongi’s ass and moans.
It’s slippery. Hoseok’s cock won’t just stay on Yoongi’s cheeks. It keeps trying to get between them, like it’s being pulled there. It makes Yoongi’s whole body burn. But Hoseok keeps pulling it away, and Yoongi whines so desperately it’s embarrassing.
“Shit, I’ll get them back in in a moment,” Hoseok breathes. And that’s not what Yoongi meant by that whine, but he does want the fingers back, so he doesn’t argue.
Hoseok grinds a few more times, but when his cock brushes over Yoongi’s hole he stops, hesitant all of a sudden. It’s ridiculous. Is this what he thinks will cross the line? This? Yoongi pushes back, tries to get Hoseok moving again, but Hoseok just slides his cock back to the side.
It’s so frustrating. Yoongi reaches back and grabs Hoseok’s thigh, pulling him closer. He thrusts his hips up, grunts when Hoseok still doesn’t move.
“Seok-ah,” he moans.
And that does it.
Hoseok braces both hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and fits his cock between Yoongi’s cheeks. They both moan. Hoseok’s oily hands slide down Yoongi’s arms all the way to his wrists. He pulls Yoongi’s hands back, brings them to Yoongi’s ass.
“Hold yourself open,” Hoseok says and braces himself on Yoongi’s waist.
It takes Yoongi’s brain a second to come back online, but when it does, he grabs his own ass cheeks and pulls them apart. He does it hard enough that his hole gapes a little, and Hoseok’s cock catches on the rim.
It keeps catching, just a little bit every time, then slipping over it. It’s teasing. It’s almost but it’s not, and it just makes Yoongi want something in him more. Anything. Anything at all.
Stupid. It’s right there.
He reaches his fingers towards Hoseok’s cock, touches the top of it. Hoseok slows down his grinding when Yoongi applies pressure. The tip presses right against Yoongi’s rim then goes over it again, and they both moan.
“Yoongi?” Hoseok says, and Yoongi can hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Just a little,” Yoongi whispers, feeling a little drunk. “Come on, just a little bit.”
“No condom,” Hoseok pants. They both know they’re clean. This is the last line of defense.
“Don’t fucking care,” Yoongi exclaims.
When the tip of Hoseok’s cock pops inside, they gasp. Yoongi tightens, and Hoseok’s fingers dig into his waist. He’s grabbing Yoongi so hard it actually hurts. It hurts good enough to distract Yoongi from the burn inside him.
It’s a mutual effort, getting him all the way in. Hoseok is slowly edging into Yoongi, while Yoongi is pushing against him. Yoongi brings his hands back up and grasps the sheets. He had forgotten what it was like to be full like this.
It doesn’t really seem to end. There’s more and more, and Hoseok is getting deeper and deeper. Yoongi realizes, at that moment, that he hasn’t even seen Hoseok’s cock yet. They haven’t kissed, and Hoseok is inside him. He’s not too sure how they got here.
Both of them stop moving for a moment and just pant.
Hoseok leans over him, his forearms fitting themselves next to Yoongi’s.
“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks breathily.
He covers Yoongi’s clenched fists with his palms.
“Yeah, just give me a second,” Yoongi answers. “It’s fucking been a while.”
Yoongi’s not sure why he’s so surprised when Hoseok kisses the back of his neck, but he is. Hoseok’s front comes flush with Yoongi’s back, and he keeps planting little kisses on Yoongi’s skin. It’s distracting. It’s sweet. And Yoongi’s fists open up only so that Hoseok could tangle their fingers together.
The pace Hoseok sets is slow at first, letting Yoongi adjust. Yoongi feels caged in by Hoseok’s body, unable to move because of his weight. He’s burning hot, and Hoseok is too. He might also be crushing Hoseok’s fingers.
Hoseok breathes Yoongi’s name into his neck, and Yoongi doesn’t remember the moment that things started feeling so personal.
“Harder,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” Hoseok picks up the pace, kisses Yoongi’s neck again.
Maybe things were personal from the beginning.
“Fuck me harder,” Yoongi repeats, demanding.
Hoseok thrusts hard enough for Yoongi to stop thinking.
His eyes roll back. Every time Hoseok sinks in it’s so deep and so powerful, and the sound of skin slapping against skin is so pornographic Yoongi would feel embarrassed if he didn’t feel so good.
He’s whimpering, voice cracking, getting off on Hoseok’s little grunts of ‘fuck’ and ‘oh my god’ and ‘Yoongi’.
His hips properly bounce off the bed because of how hard Hoseok is thrusting, his cock crashing into the bed every time Hoseok bottoms out. The sheets are not as soft as he thought they were, and even though at first that small amount of pain is something he’s grateful for, simply because it’s stopping him from coming, the more Hoseok fucks into him the more the pain gets to be just a little too much.
The moment he hisses in pain, he can feel Hoseok panic behind him.
“Too much?” he asks, slowing down.
“No, god, it’s so good,” Yoongi voice is hoarse. “But I think my dick is going to chafe off.”
Hoseok sighs, starts to pull out. Yoongi whines in protest, hips rising to try to stop him.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Hoseok says, pulling out. “I want you to flip over.”
Yoongi’s body may or may not be a little paralyzed to the bed at that point, and moving on his own does not seem like a viable option, but the idea of finally getting his cock off those sheets wins over. So, when Hoseok climbs off him, Yoongi rises on his forearms and slowly turns onto his back.
He can’t bring himself to regret it for even one second. Not when he finally sees Hoseok. Completely naked, hair matted to his forehead, chest heaving, sweaty. His cock is hard and wet, the tip dark red. Yoongi has never seen him like this. And realizing that this is all in response to him has Yoongi spreading his legs without thinking twice about it.
Hoseok climbs between them, and Yoongi pulls on his hip, head falling back when Hoseok sinks back into him. Hoseok doesn’t move at first, just looks at Yoongi, mouth agape. He brushes Yoongi’s hair off his forehead then drags a hand down Yoongi’s chest. They lock eyes, and it’s kind of weird for a moment. It’s a moment of realizing that yeah, they’ve been friends for years, but now they’re here, and Yoongi is not sure if he’s allowed to be kissing Hoseok right now.
He tangles his fingers into Hoseok’s hair and wraps his legs around Hoseok’s torso, pulling him deeper. When Hoseok bends down, placing his forearms near Yoongi’s head, he thinks Hoseok is going to kiss him. Yoongi’s lips part, eyelids droop. He’s ready for it. But he just ends up shocked into opening his eyes again when Hoseok grabs his wrists and pins them to the bed.
Then he kisses Yoongi.
It’s assertive as hell. Hoseok kisses him like he’s starving. Not soft, gentle kisses, but ones that are bruising and needy. The kind that they both want right now. Their teeth clash when Hoseok starts thrusting again. It doesn’t matter though, neither of them pulls away. And finally! Finally, Hoseok gets his prostate.
Yoongi is the one to tangle their fingers this time when Hoseok slides his hands up from his wrists. Hoseok still has him pinned down, but holding him like this makes Yoongi feel as if he has Hoseok pinned too.
He’s taken aback when his body starts to coil up. He gasps into Hoseok’s lips, drops his head back and doesn’t even have time to warn Hoseok before he’s coming, momentarily surprised into silence. His back arches, and the stream of moans and swears that start leaving his mouth are completely out of his control.
His body is clenching around Hoseok, and he’s writhing around so much that he’s actually glad Hoseok is holding him down. His cock pulses, but it won’t go soft. When Hoseok starts to slow down, to pull out, Yoongi purposefully clenches hard.
“God, no, don’t stop!” Yoongi gasps. “Please keep going.”
He manages to wrangle one hand out of Hoseok’s grasp, brings it between them and wraps it around his shaft. Hoseok buries his face in Yoongi’s neck, gasping harshly, continuing to pound into Yoongi. And Yoongi is so sensitive, his prostate feels absolutely abused, but his cock hasn’t been touched once throughout the whole thing, and jerking himself off right now cannot be any more perfect.
“Yoongi,” Hoseok grunts, warning him. He goes to pull out again, but Yoongi presses his heels into his lower back and keeps him there.
“Don’t stop,” he chokes out.
So Hoseok doesn’t, and before long, his rhythm starts faltering. Yoongi doesn’t mind at this point. He’s fisting his cock fast and tight, and this time he actually feels the orgasm building.
He’s not sure who comes before who. All he knows is that his head is spinning, there’s wetness filling him up, and he’s coming for the second time within just a few minutes.
His legs fall apart, and Hoseok drops onto him, not pulling out.
The ceiling lamp looks kind of blurry.
Hoseok moves away from Yoongi’s neck, cups Yoongi’s cheek and looks him in the eyes.
“You’re shaking,” he says.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” Yoongi breathes. His throat is dry.
“What?” Hoseok asks.
“Come like that. Twice. So fast,” Yoongi swallows.
Hoseok smiles.
It’s genuine, not mocking, Yoongi can tell. And he can’t help a small smile of his own, turning his face away. Hoseok turns it back.
“I’m gonna pull out now,” he whispers.
When he’s all the way out, Yoongi clenches and lets out a shaky breath.
“Oh, wow,” Yoongi whispers.
“What is it?” Hoseok asks.
“I just- I can-“ Yoongi shakes his head, “-feel it spilling out.”
Hoseok looks down between Yoongi’s legs, “You didn’t let me pull out.”
“I know, I didn’t want you to,” Yoongi blushes. “I just never let anyone… do that before.”
Hoseok runs his fingers over Yoongi’s scalp then straightens up. Yoongi watches him stretch an arm off the bed to the chair beside it, grabbing the towel that he used to wipe Yoongi off earlier, before all of this. Funny how long ago that feels.
He settles again between Yoongi’s spread legs and begins to wipe Yoongi’s chest and stomach. Neither of them says anything. Not when Hoseok finishes wiping the come off Yoongi’s stomach, not when he runs the towel between Yoongi’s legs and over his soft cock. Not when he folds the towel and drags it over his own cock and stomach, wiping off the come that Yoongi managed to get on him too.
Yoongi sees him hesitate after tossing the towel back onto the chair, so he closes his legs and pulls Hoseok down to lie beside him. He drops a hand across Hoseok’s stomach and lays his head on Hoseok’s chest.
Hoseok laughs breathily while wrapping both arms around Yoongi.
“What?” Yoongi asks, looking up.
“Wasn’t sure you’d be one for cuddles,” Hoseok says, smiling down at him.
“Yeah, I like doing that after…” Yoongi smiles. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“About the cuddles or about…” Hoseok lets the sentence trail off, but Yoongi understands.
“About the cuddles,” he clarifies.
He scoots up a little to face Hoseok, keeping his arm around Hoseok’s torso. Their legs tangle together.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks.
“Probably should,” Hoseok answers, rubbing circles into Yoongi’s lower back. It still hurts a little.
“I don’t know what to say,” Yoongi confesses.
“Me neither,” Hoseok says.
“I love you, you know that,” Yoongi says.
“Yeah,” he doesn’t need to say it back.
They lie quietly for a while. Hoseok’s hand eventually moves from Yoongi’s back to his forearm, then up to his shoulder. His eyes are calm, hair messy, lips are puffy from the kissing. Yoongi’s lips probably look the same. He’s never really looked at Hoseok’s lips from this close before. They’re nice. Soft looking. They feel soft too. Hoseok is tracing some pattern on Yoongi’s forearm, not saying anything about Yoongi’s staring. He’s beautiful.
“Kiss me,” Yoongi says, and it seems like the most natural thing in the world for Hoseok to slide his palm up to Yoongi’s neck and bring their lips together.
They kiss slowly, so differently from their first kiss. Their lips meld together, tongues tangle softly. Yoongi wraps his palms around Hoseok’s neck and holds tight. He doesn’t speed up the kiss, doesn’t deepen it. They leave the pace slow, kissing until they run out of breath.
Hoseok presses his forehead to Yoongi’s, and Yoongi watches his eyes open slowly.
“I think I like y- kissing you,” Yoongi hesitates, heart beating wildly.
“I think I like you too,” Hoseok smiles.
Yoongi smiles shyly in return and kisses him.