Chapter Text
Seokjin is terrified. Maybe terrified is overstating it, but more nervous than he's been for any of his appointments with Yoongi yet. Because this time it's less appointment, meet-up, or play date, and more, well, date-date. Not that things haven't been edging that way already over the past few months. Dinners shared at home, where they could discuss their type of play freely, and aftercare that turned into sleepovers that turned into scene post-mortems during breakfast. All choices moving them from kinky sex friends to full-fledged date friends.
Given time, Yoongi would presumably prefer a thorough conversation about this shift, as he does when processing most things, sharing not only his conclusions but the path he took to reach them, whereas Seokjin would be happy to stick with assumptions until some awkward introduction to friends another three months down the line pushes the question of their status with each other.
But they’ve been advancing forward on multiple fronts, per se, at the same time, and it works out that the "escalation of sex acts" front is farther along than the relationship status one. Which makes sense when your relationship starts in a kink club. It isn't so different than meeting in a regular club, catching someone's eye on the floor while they dance up on a friend they came with - except instead of dancing, it’s flogging, and the friend has a boyfriend who gets a thrill out of his partner returning home all marked up.
It had meant something right away to Seokjin that Yoongi was the kind of person you could trust with that, the careful dance of consensual jealousy play while maintaining a friendship. It also meant something that he could joke about it, not too self-serious. It was after Yoongi had wrapped up the scene and was packing up gear, his play partner headed out for the night with a smile and a case of the endorphin giggles, that he tilted his head in invitation for Seokjin to come over and chat. Even before introductions, Yoongi explained the situation matter-of-factly, ending with a smirk, "It's fun for them."
The account carefully made it clear that Yoongi wasn't partnered with his evening's playmate, or anyone else, so Seokjin felt comfortable with a little light teasing. "And it's just miserable for you, no fun at all?"
Yoongi had looked deadly serious when flogging his friend, focused, clean arcs, the occasional curled-lip snarl when he pushed them both that little bit harder, but in that moment he had an easy smile. "Yeah, it's fun." With a demonstrative shake of the heavy duffle he'd finished repacking, he added, "And you don't blow this much of your disposable income on nice impact toys not to use them."
Seokjin has since gotten to know just how nice all those toys are and considers them worth every penny, even if he’d thought at the time that Yoongi was being braggy. Seokjin's own toy collection is sadly sparse at the present moment, considering its best contents had left town with his ex over a year ago. He and Shihyun had gotten together for vague, boring reasons of convenience and broken up for equally boring reasons, job opportunities with better promise than the relationship. However, that was who first cautiously and then enthusiastically introduced Seokjin to BDSM. Seokjin may have moved on from that particular relationship but not from a world where he could enjoy sex in a long-term relationship so much more than he ever had before. For that, he'd always remember Shihyun at least a little fondly.
Not that Seokjin has gotten a follow-up study under his belt yet, limited to short one-off impact play sessions at a few members-only spots like where he met Yoongi, and the dance club one-night stands that he knows (and he hates that he knows this) he'll have no interest in seeing again as soon as the thrill of discovery wears off. He's tried second dates, to turn those trysts into more, only to regret it when faced with the disparity between what the casual dating pool of Seoul wants and what he is searching for.
So it works out perfectly that Seokjin and Yoongi never have a first date; they have 'leaving the club and stumbling across an open pojangmacha where they talk for another hour without straining their voices.' They don't have a one night stand either, considering Yoongi doesn't even touch Seokjin's dick or let Seokjin touch his the first time they play at the club or even at home. Yoongi acknowledges the evidence of Seokjin's arousal clearly enough, but insists it's more important to establish a baseline understanding of each other with power and pain play before adding sex to it.
The methodical patience Yoongi approaches their play with is truly notable. Any decent dom pays attention, tracking microexpressions and body language as much as any verbal cue, but Yoongi is more than decent, intuits Seokjin in a way one might mistake for clairvoyance or a predestined connection. To believe that would be wrong, though. There's work to it that Seokjin notices and appreciates, that he hopes he shares in and honors. Those morning-after conversations that Seokjin has come to value so much are as instrumental as the play itself in uncovering the paths of Seokjin's subspace-sedated mind, providing Yoongi clues he can then use in their next session, pushing harder or lightening his step. Yoongi doesn't only look for red flags, the big dos and don'ts. He mines the details.
It's also over those coffee and eggs meetings that Seokjin has gotten to know Yoongi out of scene, his dry humor and diverse interests and conditional humility. Seokjin wasn't exactly wrong about finding Yoongi braggy at first. Yoongi is braggy about the things he's good at, humble about things he isn't and honest with himself about what falls in each category. Besides, Seokjin can't throw stones considering how he relies on blind confidence to overcome anxiety-inducing situations here and there (how he wishes he could right now).
There's an empty overnight bag on Seokjin's bed as he paces from the closet and back, empty handed. All of Seokjin's typical pre-not-dating rituals involve preemptively building a wall inside himself, from what he wears to how he styles his hair to what music he listens to while getting ready. But there's a limit to how much he'll allow himself to do that with Yoongi anymore. Enough of the last hour has been spent objectively considering all the reasons he shouldn't be nervous, months of Yoongi's interest in him unwavering, but no logic quiets the flipping of his stomach or tapping of his fingers.
The open drawers of his closet unit stare back at him with an air of impudence so he closes them one by one, considering their contents but not selecting anything, until he gets to the bottom drawer holding his least-worn items. There's a red lacy thong in that drawer, right underneath the pleather waist cincher resting at the top of the pile. That's the sort of thing that would make him feel confident. Make him feel confident by making him feel like someone less like himself, and while that isn't breaking tonight's rules to the letter, it is in spirit. (As is thinking about the night as having agreed upon bullet points guiding what will or won't happen.) Other nights they've operated by a rulebook, one they wrote together. This is different. This is about being themselves. Easy.
Yoongi had asked Seokjin for just one night out of their comfort zone. He hadn't offered any deep whys beyond it prefacing them taking the next step and Seokjin hadn't asked, because would anyone else need to? Seokjin could guess. To connect more directly, to feel more safe in and out of scene, to physically know each other without characters or a constructed unreality between them. (Without any of the defined boundaries Seokjin can anticipate, without the clarity of expectations and reward, without the satisfaction in his core of having done something right and Yoongi's warm praise confirming it.) That would be Seokjin's guess, at least.
It shouldn't scare him like it does; Seokjin fully believes Yoongi has nothing but good intentions, reasonably expecting their dynamic to evolve and develop and grow. It would be hurtful rather than relieving if Yoongi didn't want those things because Seokjin does.
His thoughts and his pacing loop wider and wider, rationalizing that anyone would be feeling this way, sexuality and their expression of it aside. Of course, the familiar riskiness of a one night stand is an entirely different feeling than of a relationship progressing. A club hookup failing might lose him a few hours - a rejection that stings because he's human, but it's no one he'll miss seeing again, and any rejection would be on some surface level or alchemical basis, not because of who Seokjin is. Not because he's shared some raw personal part of his identity.
Seokjin blinks his eyes tight for a few repetitions and still hesitates, naked and vulnerable in his literal closet and at a loss, reaching for some how-to guide everyone but him has gotten. Yoongi would let Seokjin get away with the lacy underwear, but he might perceive it as something meaningful about Seokjin versus what it is, a trick to impart distance and safety. For all of Seokjin's internal conflict, struggling against himself - the parts of himself he avoids looking at, much less sharing - he wants to be the least dishonest he can possibly be. Even if he knows a lie of omission is at the heart of his plans. He toes the bottom drawer shut to avoid any temptation and reopens the top drawer.
The best thing he can do now is keep it simple. Two pairs of black boxer briefs, two white plain tee shirts. He throws one of each into the bag and pulls on the other. Soft plaid sleep pants go in the bag too, and the jeans piled in the corner of his closet floor, marking them as worn but not too worn, go on over his briefs.
There's already a toothbrush for Seokjin in Yoongi's bathroom and Yoongi's skincare products are as nice as his own, so his bag looks pathetically empty. He adds his laptop and the book that's lived on his nightstand for the past year for the sake of filling the bag, when he knows perfectly well he's going to read on his phone if he can't sleep. Said phone chirrups to remind him to leave and yet he considers once more pulling the book back out. What if Yoongi judges him for carrying around a bestseller thriller, populist beach reading?
Taking a deep breath, Seokjin zips up the bag with the book inside, because he knows he doesn't need to impress Yoongi tonight with his clothes or his reading material. Yoongi won't judge, not harshly. Seokjin doesn't need to fill his mind with thoughts of how to prepare for Yoongi, how to surprise him. (Conceptually, he's enough, he knows that. But can he do enough?)
He sprays on cologne anyway as he walks out of the bedroom, hoping the other passengers on the bus at this hour won't hate him too much when it doesn't have enough time to settle into his skin. Sweater, jacket, mask, hat, shoes, nerves. Check, check, check.
---
With the strangely dimmed lighting of the night bus and hard plastic seat under him, it shouldn't be hard for Seokjin to keep his mind off Yoongi and tonight (and every other night they've shared) for the twenty minute ride. Nothing he should be thinking about in a public place, even with his overnight bag resting on his lap.
He knows it doesn't show on his face and his hair is long enough to cover his traitorous ears if they go pink but even that bodily betrayal is rare for him. He has iron control over his face and body, he likes to think. When others board, he smiles politely and bows his head as they move past him. The bus isn't quite crowded enough to require it but Seokjin prefers to err on the side of politeness. (The desire to be good and liked and someone who does things right permeates deeper into his personality than he'd prefer to recognize.)
Seokjin finds the alone-in-a-crowd anonymity of a bus ride more comforting than splurging on a taxi with the low but not zero risk of a talkative driver. Besides, it's better to save that splurge in case he needs a ride home in the middle of the night when he flops this whole thing that badly. He takes a deep breath, trying to push his catastrophizing aside by counting street lamps.
The worst part of this anxiety is that it was entirely preventable, because Seokjin is a coward. Forget the panties Yoongi would've let him get away with (Seokjin's hand tightens on the strap of his bag with a pang of regret; he should have shoved them in last minute, he could've changed in Yoongi's bathroom quickly enough), Yoongi would've reconsidered the whole idea had Seokjin said anything. But it didn't make sense to deny Yoongi's basic request, sent over text message like it was that straightforward, that the first time they have penetrative sex, it be out of scene. Vanilla.
The source of the misplaced guilt at the center of Seokjin's suffering is that he only has himself to blame for the fact that they were doing this right now. Last weekend, he had been the one begging, halfway out of his mind on endorphins, for Yoongi to fill him. They hadn't discussed it first, but he was too gone to remember negotiations at the time, mind empty with the sheets balled up in his clenched fists, wrists tethered together above him, damp brow cradled against his forearms.
Yoongi fulfilled his role with control and responsibility like always, compromised by filling Seokjin with a toy. With Yoongi pressed against him from behind, Yoongi's sweat stinging lightly against the abrasions littered across Seokjin's bare back, both breathing heavily, it had been enough to satisfy. It hadn't even been directly about orgasm really, although he had when Yoongi pushed Seokjin's hips down to the mattress and ordered him to rut against it. But his body so rarely craves anything that specific that he never thinks to brace for the possibility of sudden waves like that.
Back on the bus, Seokjin stares out the window at the city with intense focus, willing the blood from his face and ears. Regardless of how he knows that his skin healed days ago, there's nevertheless a faint sensation along his shoulder blades and it spikes unexpectedly when the bus jerks to a halt at a stop. Seokjin, deep in memory, in turn smacks against the seatback, an inconvenient gasp escaping.
Without thinking of anything beyond his current and impending humiliation, like what stop they'd reached, Seokjin jumps up with his bag and steps off through the open doors. There's no reason for him to think the other riders noticed him. Even if they did, it's much more likely to assume a panicked man rushing off the bus missed his stop or forgot something at work. Unfortunately, if the last hour of fretting proves anything, it is that Seokjin is too on edge for logic.
He searches for anything recognizable. Only one stop early it seems (too far to walk home. Which is good). If there's an easier way to get to Yoongi's from here than following the remainder of the bus route, Seokjin doesn't know it. He's only spent a little time in Yoongi's neighborhood as of yet, picking up takeaway for dinner or a morning coffee together, never with an eye to remember landmarks or pedestrian pass throughs. It's its own kind of embarrassing to get off the bus just to follow its path anyway, but he leans into the walk uphill as a distracting feeling, letting nerves pass through his muscles the same way he does through impact play.
Once he's past what would've been the correct bus stop, things are more recently familiar, except even then not quite. Normally when Seokjin makes this walk, there are special instructions in his texts or an illicit toy in his bag keeping him hyper aware. Tonight, all he has as he walks up to the callbox next to the doors of Yoongi's lobby is himself and a book no one is ever going to read.
When Seokjin steps off the elevator, Yoongi is at the end of the hallway with the door open, rather than letting Seokjin code himself in like he has been. Yoongi's sweet smile as Seokjin approaches is soothing, until he crosses the threshold and suddenly the entryway feels very small compared to the hallway behind him. Yoongi has a glass with a shallow pour of wine in his hand and Seokjin has his bag and coat so they do an awkward wave while mumbling hellos rather than a hug.
"Here, let me take hyung's bag while you…" Yoongi trails off with a gesture meaning for Seokjin to take off his outdoor layers. Seokjin puts his hat and mask in the pocket of his coat before taking it off and then decides to remove his sweater as well, feeling warmer than he should but with the extra walk to blame it on.
Seokjin's shirt rides up when he does so and he only has a brief second after the sweater passes over his head where he can see Yoongi's eyes on his midsection before politely diverting his eyes like he's studying the order of his shoe rack. If they had been starting, Yoongi would have commented on it, teasing Seokjin for being over eager or directing him to take the shirt off too.
Once Seokjin's shoes are sorted on the rack, they continue together down the hallway to the rest of the apartment. Yoongi keeps a hold of Seokjin's bag, dropping it inside his bedroom and then closing the door, like it isn't time to think about that yet. A part of Seokjin is already there though.
Yoongi is an odd mix of not quite dressed up, in a soft thin turtleneck that skims over his chest and narrow slacks, more than his normal athletic wear but not so much as when Seokjin's seen him in his work suits. All that time spent pacing, maybe Seokjin should have picked out something with a bit more effort, considering it's a date. (A first date, even.) He squares his shoulders and fixes his posture because that alone can dress up a basic t-shirt.
Yoongi beckons for Seokjin to follow him into the kitchen. Music plays from a dock in there and the food smells already fill the space, both a comforting distraction while they try to get the conversation going. Seokjin likes talking with Yoongi but sometimes it's too easy to stay quiet around each other.
Seokjin peeks into the pot on the stove. "It smells good, what did you decide on?" Yoongi had rambled off some ideas in the chat when he first suggested having dinner before, but the truth is Seokjin is easy to please with homemade food. Yoongi hip checks Seokjin away from the stove. He seems as at ease in the kitchen as he has most of the places Seokjin has been with him.
"Dakbokkeumtang, but don't be too impressed. It's not entirely homemade, pre-made sauce and some side dishes from the market," Yoongi qualifies even as he reaches for more seasoning. "But I marinated the chicken when I got home to make it a little special."
"Do you need anything chopped while you're at the stove? I could…" Seokjin searches the counters for something to busy himself with.
"No, no, you don't have to do anything, hyung. Not tonight." Yoongi looks around the counters for his glass from before. "The wine, though, the wine I brought to the door was for you, if you want. You don't have to but since we don't normally…"
Their sentences keep trailing off as they find their pace. Seokjin collects what's apparently his wine glass, if nothing else to have something to fidget with in his hands, but the condensation slipping down the sides feels far too much like the flop sweat he imagines on his forehead, like an actor trying to vamp his way through a scene change malfunction.
They go through a few more starts and stops, talking about work, but eventually conversation smooths out as Yoongi wraps up cooking, Seokjin commenting on the music playing and both adding songs to the queue.
"There has to be a song you don't know and I do, and you would like," Seokjin says, defending himself in what's become an impromptu trivia game. "You can't know all of Soundcloud. I will find one, even if I have to spend the rest of the night scrolling to find it. Don't underestimate me!" Seokjin sets aside his mock indignance to take a modest sip from his glass, smiling over the rim coyly, as if he can frame all the differentness surrounding them as exciting instead of unsettling.
"Mmm, maybe I'm estimating you just right."
For a second, it works, arms prickling with goosebumps as Yoongi appraises him in response, even if flirting at this point seems like a kind of an inside joke. However, when Yoongi skims a hand along Seokjin's waist as he scoots around him in the narrow kitchen, crossing to the dining area to get a serving dish from the table, the touch is more steadying than thrilling. Whether such a placid response is a good thing or not, Seokjin puts those thoughts off and instead harnesses the small dose of relief into a (mostly natural) smile as he follows Yoongi to the dining area.
----
The anxiety isn't constant through the meal, despite Seokjin's perception of it whenever it creeps back up. There are whole ten minute stretches of weather and news and TV discussions where Seokjin feels nothing but relaxed and glowing in Yoongi's attention, but then Yoongi will look at him a certain way, for a flash of a moment, and Seokjin loses his place. He's always been capable with clever flirtatious banter, but he finds himself less so when he's multitasking it with clumsy interpretation of seduction (is what Yoongi's doing intentional or is that what desire looks like? Or is that just what Seokjin wants to believe?) and overthinking.
Maybe by the end of the night, everything will be fine, forcing some positive words in between his ruder doubts. They will continue on this path to full boyfriends unimpeded; if not strictly monogamous, then a primacy kind of relationship with standing date nights and mutual friend groups and Seokjin permanently claiming the opposite nightstand. Because Yoongi is special. Not that Seokjin's intense analysis of previous relationships has led him to believe that romantic love or time spent together are factors in how he experiences attraction, but misguided hope particularly springs eternal.
Subpar pep talk aside, Seokjin realistically visualizes what not going fine would look like, which isn't so bad. For all his earlier imaginings of a depressing midnight cab ride home, the worst he actually expects is that it will bore him. Seokjin has a tendency to float away during vanilla sex. Not dissociate as it's been explained to him, more like losing focus because he doesn't stay interested. (Which is fine, unless Yoongi notices and Yoongi is very perceptive and he loves that normally but --)
"Earth to Seokjin-hyung?" Yoongi looks at him patiently while Seokjin tries to figure out exactly how far back he tuned out during Yoongi's book summary.
Seokjin swallows hard with a jolt, so preoccupied he'd apparently frozen mid-chew. A stray remnant of chile irritates his throat on the way down and makes him cough, just enough that his eyes water. "Sorry," Seokjin rasps out, one tear escaping down his cheek as he gropes for a napkin. "Sorry, I didn't mean to daze out like that. What you said was, uh, thought provoking," which is half true.
"Ah, hyung's showing off how particularly good he looks when he cries, but I already knew that," Yoongi jokes softly. Despite how the spice is already cleared from his throat, Seokjin chokes a second time rather than giggle back and Yoongi too reflexively coughs with discomfort.
"That's silly, I'm particularly good looking all the time." Seokjin strikes a pose with a hand under his chin, eyes closed. When he opens them, Yoongi is looking at him more intently. Yoongi reaches across the table and his fingers rest where Seokjin's own had been moments before, but with an entirely different kind of firm gentleness. He's helpless under Yoongi's attention, stilled even as thoughts rush past, like how much he likes Yoongi and does he like Yoongi's attention in the normal way or does he crave praise from him too much to be considered normal?
"No deflecting or jokes. To me, you are always the most handsome." There's a tone to it that vibrates in Seokjin's bones and he swallows an involuntary whine, forcing himself to stay in his seat rather than chase Yoongi's hand when he takes it back. Yoongi looks down with a crooked grin of embarrassment. "Sorry, that wasn't intentional. Force of habit."
Seokjin wishes he could tell Yoongi how that voice was cool refreshing water on his raw nerves. Especially in the beginning, Yoongi took Seokjin's praise kink to mean he should flatter Seokjin, about his appearance or obedience or how well he could withstand a hit, and they both liked that well enough. But what was special then, what Seokjin thirsts for now, was when Yoongi would pet him gently, even as Seokjin grew more wrecked, sweating, crying, as far as drooling sometimes, and softly assure him, how desirable and good and wanted Seokjin was to Yoongi. Even if Yoongi isn't aware of the trial he is unintentionally putting Seokjin through tonight, to be seen as valuable as he struggles is a tether.
A tether he should use to pull them back to lighter territory. "Speaking of habits, have you gotten any better about lunch at work?" Seokjin asks as he picks out a few more pieces of chicken and moves them to Yoongi's plate, a reflexive caretaking measure as a thank you Yoongi probably doesn't know Seokjin is itching to give, but at the same time, wants to move past.
"Aish, plenty of people only eat once a day. And there's always a line at the one good noodle place…" And like that, they're back on track, bickering superficially in between bites, adding more details to the broad strokes they already know of each other's lives.
---
Over the course of the next hour, the serving dish empties, followed by their plates. Yoongi is a good listener and can be measured with words when it counts, but get him on the right topic and he's a great talker, with a memory for random details. Seokjin has spent the last ten minutes trying to suppress giggles as Yoongi outlines a petty drama dividing his calc class' group chat, because despite doing things like public BDSM scenes in a cool underground nightclub, Yoongi also does things like take online classes for fun and run an honest-to-God book club at a counterculture bookstore.
Yoongi likes to read about the history of political and social movements and what he can find about the psychology behind kink and liking the things people like them like. If Seokjin ever got the courage to share his nascent identity revelations, Yoongi would probably understand what Seokjin was talking about better than he himself did. (More clearly, for sure, but considering the amount of time Seokjin spends actively avoiding his own thoughts about it versus Yoongi's careful attention to everything, perhaps Yoongi has the advantage here.)
Seokjin's wine glass is nearly at the same level still since he can't trust himself to not gulp it down all at once. A few times their hands graze the other's on the table and it's nice, but holding hands seems oddly performative for sitting at home by themselves and simply awkward while eating. It's not the right time yet, but that's why it's safer now to imagine what escalating beyond holding hands would look like, because Seokjin wouldn't, couldn't.
What would it be like to scoot closer in front of Yoongi, to turn his head and lead him into a kiss? A straight-forward kiss is an easy enough image to conjure, dropping a peck on the crown of Yoongi's head, or even on his mouth, face tilted cutely up, while walking to the kitchen to get a different drink from the fridge. A single action to reaffirm how much he likes Yoongi, the why and how clear. Except that's not what he means.
Yoongi piles the last of the store-bought veggies on his plate, oblivious to or at least unaware of the intention behind Seokjin's staring. What Seokjin means, stock still in his chair as he focuses harder, is how he would start by sliding his hand under Yoongi's chin and along his jaw until his fingers curl around the nape of Yoongi's neck, nestling there in his dark hair. Yoongi's eyes would drift shut and his head would tilt and the first touch of lips to lips would be sparking and then… and then…
And then Seokjin's imagination takes its own path regardless because it knows what it wants. For Yoongi to shift his own hand to Seokjin's shoulder and use it to firmly guide Seokjin onto the floor between Yoongi's knees. Distance restored, Yoongi could gaze down at Seokjin and tell him exactly what comes next, motion for motion and word for word.
Seokjin blinks hard to rewind back before that detour. Next would be… opening his mouth probably. Tongues doing… something? For some amount of time? The urge to retreat to familiar territory never fades as he loses control more and more of his own hypothetical run through.
Yoongi doesn't tease him for spacing out this time, simply skims a hand lightly over Seokjin's shoulder so he doesn't startle when Yoongi picks up the plate in front of him and walks it to the kitchen. Seokjin runs his fingers over the same spot, the ghost of the real and imagined touch overlapping. He stands up and finishes the last third of his wine glass, so he can bring it to the sink where Yoongi's standing.
This close together, Seokjin eclipsing Yoongi slightly as they stand back to front against the counter, the evening's prolonged nervousness comes to a head, like finally reaching the top of the line for one of those straight-drop rides Seokjin likes even less than regular roller coasters. His face feels slightly flushed, from the wine he's sure, or the steam from the sink. It turns to a cold clamminess when combined with the persistent thudding of his pulse.
Yoongi takes his time rinsing the plates although he smirks at Seokjin's proximity, like it's yet another bit between them, not an overture. He turns around in Seokjin's arms and softly exhales, "Hey." The static from Yoongi's sweater raises the hairs on his arms.
Seokjin can't get a read on Yoongi's expression but there's a good chance he's waiting to be kissed. If Seokjin were to kiss him now, would that be the start of 'things' or would it just be a kiss, short and sweet, testing? How long would a kiss with the kitchen counter digging into Yoongi's back be comfortable - or worth the discomfort? But then would it be rushing to move to the bedroom? Maybe Yoongi wants him to rush.
It feels like gearing up for a first kiss but it's not. They've kissed in scene but it's always been Yoongi delivering it, either granted as a reward or roughly taken. Something Yoongi could hold back from Seokjin, taunting him over and over until he had to have it, earn it. Now instead of a constructed loop of desperation, Yoongi is relaxed, sweet and handsome and patient, not expecting either of them to lead.
The power vacuum is palpable to Seokjin, but if him leading will help tonight seem different than previous nights, he'll try. Seokjin takes Yoongi's hand in his, pressing Yoongi's fingertips to his lips before leading him to the living room couch. Once Yoongi is trailing behind him and unable to see Seokjin's face, he spares a brief moment to panic about whether that came off as smooth or dorky. Signs point to dorky, considering when Yoongi catches up to crowd behind him, it's with a dry little chuckle.
It takes the mildest push from Yoongi to topple them gently onto the couch side-by-side. Seokjin tries to compose himself but he's only barely settled before Yoongi's lips are on his. All that waiting and debating and now it's just happening, which is kind of nice. Yoongi being this close is even nicer than he remembers, feeling his short exhales through his nose on his cheek. They clumsily lean across each other, instead of facing, and Seokjin wishes he had the brace of Yoongi's knobby knees around him to ground him.
Sadly, but with the heavy drag of inevitability, they are at best a minute and a half in when the spell unravels for Seokjin. It's every weird high school make out session he's lived through too many versions of where he isn't particularly interested in getting to the next thing so much as he wants to be done with this thing. For years, he'd written it off as the impatience of puberty, even when his regard of kissing didn't improve as he moved into his twenties, even with gathering as wide a sample group as he had. The one hand on Yoongi's neck, placed to match Seokjin's prior mental run through, and their lips are the only points of contact between them. Rather than float away like in a romance novel, the rest of his body is dead weight, holding him down.
Seokjin's eyes drift open from time to time, trying to find something in the apartment to focus on. The bookshelf is a little too far to read any of the spines clearly. Seokjin isn't familiar enough with whiskey to recognize the labels of any of the amber bottles filling one shelf, but they seem expensive given their place of pride in the room and the gold-rimmed rocks glasses next to them. Yoongi's never opened them when Seokjin was around considering what they've been here to do, but Yoongi invests in the things he enjoys.
Now that Seokjin is thinking about the whiskey, and thinking about where they are, to avoid thinking about what he's doing, he recalls the one time Yoongi did drink in front of him. They've primarily played at Yoongi's, mostly to avoid hauling around equipment, but also because he lives alone. Which means they've been able to play everywhere throughout the apartment. Including right where they sit now. Actually, only Yoongi had been sitting on the couch. Seokjin had been on the floor.
That day Yoongi had run late getting off work and didn't get a chance to text so Seokjin had to wait in the building lobby until Yoongi got home. It was still early in things then, early enough that Seokjin didn't have the door code yet, and they were even more awkward out of scene than tonight. So after a quick addendum discussion, rather than having Yoongi settle in first, they began the scene right away. Yoongi undressed Seokjin like an appetizer, positioned him naked in the living room just so with a floor pillow under his knees, and then left Seokjin to wait while he showered and changed into loose house clothes. After he was done, Yoongi reclined on the couch with his whiskey, unwinding with mellow floaty beats playing on the stereo. Seokjin held Yoongi's drink for the long pauses he took between sips, condensation sweating down the glass, more ice than liquor, flowing onto Seokjin's wrist and all the way to the crease of his elbow but he didn't dare move to stop it. Yoongi's long fingers trailed through Seokjin's hair as Seokjin rested his head lightly on Yoongi's knee and both let the day drop from their shoulders in silence.
Those same long fingers make their way through Seokjin's hair now, another point of contact, but it's not the same. Is it cheating, to channel the energy of his memory? Seokjin doesn't exactly know what everyone else thinks about when kissing. None of the things he's thinking about now probably. It's easy to lie to himself that how he thinks and feels isn't that different until it's actually happening, more distracted by things like where to put his other hand than by the slide of Yoongi's tongue against his lips. Belatedly, he realizes that means to open his mouth again, but does that mean it's his turn to move his tongue now?
When his hands are tied, literally, he doesn't have to think about where to put them. He doesn't think about where to move because he has to be where Yoongi puts him. If he loses track, that's okay, because Yoongi guides him right back into place.
Yoongi is currently using his opposite hand to brace himself on the couch to make up their small height difference. Seokjin could put his hand on Yoongi's waist but that might be too close to his groin and again, rushing things. If he did move his hand, would he rest it there or move it or squeeze or stroke? What do you want to do?
When Seokjin's eyes drift open again, he blinks them shut tightly. All it does is make the question chant louder in his head. What do you want? Rather than reach out, Seokjin feels his fingers curl into his palm. Some traitorous, more courageous part of him wants to speak up, if only he could find the right words.
Yoongi stops him before he has the chance. Breaking the kiss slowly, regretfully maybe, but resolute nonetheless, he whispers, "Maybe I read this wrong."
Of course Yoongi can intuit Seokjin well enough. They've put such an effort into developing a bond of care and awareness and Seokjin can't regret that but he's been putting it at risk all night. Of course Yoongi is braver than him. "Is this what you want?"
Seokjin could nearly (but never actually) dissolve into tears right there. What a question. It's not 'what do you want?', it's 'what is want?' Does Seokjin 'want' at all? He knows he wants so many things with and from Yoongi, probably for some of the healthiest reasons he's ever had with a partner, but they don't break down into explicit actions and steps. All he has are these amorphous fitful waves that he doesn't know how to express because his body has never explained any of it to him that way.
Yoongi's hand has shifted from the back of Seokjin's neck to around his bicep and he's moved far enough back that Seokjin can easily look him in the eye, if only for a few seconds at a time. They still lean into each other's space for the time being. Yoongi looks honest and open as he waits for Seokjin's answer. In return, Seokjin must look like he's drowning as his thoughts rush by. If Seokjin waits too long, Yoongi might misunderstand, might shut him out because he's hurt, might not believe -
The first few times Seokjin attempts to speak, air comes out instead of sounds. "I do, I just - " He can hear how wishy washy, how coerced it must sound and it's not. Under all the clouds of confusion and nervousness, Seokjin does want to be here, with Yoongi, more than anyone else in the world, in an intimate way, making each other feel good. Talking doesn't make Seokjin feel good, but that's the real hurdle, isn't it?
"Mm, okay, yellow," Yoongi says as he takes his hands off Seokjin completely, as if his touch might be considered an intrusion or unwelcome influence. Then he scoots farther away to tuck a leg under himself and face Seokjin, sitting sideways on the couch. "Or, I know we aren't in a scene but time out. Something."
"Time out, yeah, but just a time out, right? We can still..." Seokjin resolves to get his shit together and not let another sentence trail off. Soon.
"I mean, we both have to agree, but we can try, yeah." Yoongi phrases his next words carefully, not self-pitying or manipulative. "What kind of interest do you have in me? Is it only as a dom?"
Seokjin tries to match his pace, not rushing to the end of a sentence but taking his time to put the components together. Yet it's painfully important in the moment that Yoongi understand how Seokjin thinks about him. It overwhelms Seokjin and his tone turns a shade hysterical. "I like you so much. The full range of interest. As a dom and a friend," Seokjin stirs up his courage, settles his voice, before continuing, "and as a lover and a boyfriend, someday, if I'm lucky. How embarrassing." Yoongi looks like he's going to argue with him but Seokjin holds up a finger to indicate he needs another moment first to continue.
"I am as into you as I could possibly be. It's not about how much exactly but how, the way that I want you, how I feel that -" This is the first time Seokjin's really experienced this level of attraction in real-time after having developed some understanding of the spectrum, rather than merely evaluating past experience. A sustained but thready kind of desire, not the sparking, erratic, sometimes misleading, new relationship energy that normally carries Seokjin through his brief encounters. "From my understanding, how I feel isn't how most people mean when they say they want someone. I don't get a driving carnal need or instinctual pull, I don't have a gut feeling to trust like that, at least 90% of the time. I can fake it alright -"
Yoongi is fully listening but still interjects, "Hyung, you have to know I don't want you to fake it with me."
"Except we do fake it with each other, all the time. Every time up til now! We dress up, or more often, down, ha, and play pretend. And it's great. Because in a scene, we agree it's fake. You pretend, very convincingly, to take everything from me, control everything, own me, mind and body, but I never doubt that I could take that back in a second if I wanted." Seokjin stares at his hands for a second, because the rush of words holds so many good memories for him, ones that pink his ears, but that's not what's going on now. "But tonight, you didn't consent to it being fake and so I didn't want to be fake. I wanted to react naturally, whatever that is supposed to mean. But without some kind of… script? There are just a lot of responses I don't have."
From the best Seokjin can interpret Yoongi's sober expression, he's following what Seokjin's saying, but Seokjin can't be sure which parts are getting across as important. Yoongi's hands clench and unclench, but it's unclear if it's frustration or a desire to reach out.
"I need to know that, or at least I want to. And to know other things about you. I guess I should say clearly now, since it seems we are confessing, I like you a lot too. And do have all those," Yoongi pauses his earnest admission to crack a smile at Seokjin's earlier wording, "carnal urges. About you. But if that's going to make you uncomfortable -"
"It doesn't. I may not trust my own gut, but I trust yours completely." If Seokjin does trust Yoongi as much as that, then he's going to have to say it, all the way. This is going to be the first honest talk Seokjin's ever had with a partner, or really any person, not a book or website, about the asexual spectrum in relation to himself. His nerves aren't gone, his words still stutter out with the effort it takes to put enough air behind them, but Yoongi is sitting there in front of him, open, and likes him back, which makes the alternative of not saying anything absurd. "You like to read about stuff, so maybe you already have an idea, but, not exactly asexual, rather, I like the word grey? Grey ace."
Yoongi nods like it makes sense, but doesn't otherwise respond, waiting for Seokjin to explain more. He does change his posture a little, leaning forward and making eye contact before putting a hand on Seokjin's knee. A pesky frustration tugs at the corner of Seokjin's brain that Yoongi has had full control of his body before, left his mark inside and out, and is now tentatively confirming consent to put a soft reassuring hand on him. But if Seokjin gave words to that frustration, Yoongi would say that reconfirming consent is never a bad thing and he'd be obnoxiously right.
Seokjin admits, "It's not a word I say out loud a lot. Or ever. I think it's always been like this for me but I didn't use any kind of word or term for it until about a year ago. Like it's more about understanding myself, not for hookups or strangers?" Yoongi is already fully aware of Seokjin's recent sexual history, but when Seokjin told him, it had been about fluid transmission safety and waiting out test result windows. It didn't involve the weird internal slut shaming that came from being capable of casual sex with strangers but not long-term partners. "It didn't seem worth bringing up, with other people, when I was still going out. Like 'asexual' could be kind of a confusing mixed message to the person you're trying to have sex with. And obviously wouldn't be the truth exactly either. But just the word 'grey' takes so much, I don't know, explaining. It doesn't mean much of anything without talking."
Seokjin and Yoongi have different relationships with talking. Seokjin knows, intellectually, communication helps things, but in practice, verbalizing emotions is not his favorite. That said, for all the time they've spent together so far, more than a fair share of it has been taken up by talking. Considering the activities that made up the rest of the time, it feels like a misnomer to call it normal, but when it comes to kink stuff, talking is more than normalized, it's required. With Yoongi, the discussions themselves are fun. Maybe it would change in time if they began to push against soft limits, but as of yet, Yoongi is always confident and wicked in devising new things for Seokjin to look forward to. They talk during, too. Yoongi teases these confessions out of Seokjin, subtly feeding him what to say, and he loves it but the context makes it different. It's fetishized vulnerability instead of the real deal.
So Seokjin understands talking is important, but it doesn't change the grating resentment that this conversation wouldn't be necessary if Seokjin wasn't the way he is. This isn't Yoongi's wheelhouse where he can flaunt that hyper competent determination that Seokjin has come to depend on. Seokjin has to give him something to work with.
"But it hadn't come up with me yet." There's uncertainty there when Yoongi asks, "Even though we aren't strangers anymore, right?"
Who knows what they might be calling themselves had Seokjin said something earlier rather than launching a tidal wave of insecurity and self doubt at Yoongi? "No, not strangers, not a hookup or a one night stand. I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner but I didn't know when to do it or if I should. This is my first time trying something 'not casual' since figuring this all out." Too many walls and filters down, Seokjin lets a joke slip despite the fraught atmosphere. "I'm sure by the third or fourth guy, I'll be better at this conversation. Your understanding with this initial trial run is appreciated."
It thankfully appears Yoongi is still in the mood to tolerate Seokjin's stupid banter because he shakes with a dry laugh, relieving some of the tension in his shoulders. "If it makes you feel any better, this is my first time trying to date someone who started as a play partner, or really date someone at all since joining the scene. So we're both on a learning curve?"
Seokjin nods in agreement, mollified if not entirely reassured by them both being lost. He hadn't known that about Yoongi, despite having heard about and even met quite a few of Yoongi's past play partners, like a casual web of friendships that sometimes also involve welts and orgasms. Seokjin had met people who Yoongi brought into that web from the outside, but not whoever brought Yoongi in to begin with.
Yoongi fidgets with how he's sitting as he visibly rolls another question around in his head, landing an inch closer to Seokjin when he's done. "When you go out to hook up, and I'm not judging and it's okay if you don't have an answer, but what do you get out of the one offs if it isn't about satisfying an urge like that? Or maybe, what do you get out of what we do? Is it the same?" It doesn't surprise Seokjin that Yoongi goes straight into fact gathering mode to understand better. He believes Yoongi when he says he's not passing judgement, but these are questions Seokjin struggles with himself.
"Orgasms. Those come with both and I am a fan," he starts with, rather bluntly. The next part always makes him feel a little conceited. "The feeling of being desired. It's selfish to want it when returning it is tricky, but I guess that's where things start to differ between that and this." After gesturing between them to emphasize his meaning, Seokjin lets his hand drop on the couch near the hem of Yoongi's slacks, toying with it as he thinks.
"With something that's just one night," Seokjin continues, "there's this riskiness of putting yourself out there. I don't know if I like it but it's engaging, even if it isn't sexual. I don't do scary movies or thrill rides, but there's a rush when you touch someone new, grazing and cautious at first because you have an idea of how it's going to be received, but you can't be sure yet. It's like transgressing a boundary. The curiosity of how they'll touch you. That fills in all the gaps desire doesn't for me. It doesn't sound very sexy like that I guess."
"I can follow what you mean. But you said we're different." Yoongi is giving him room to talk when Seokjin isn't used to leading their discussions this much. Part of him longs to return the Yoongi who keeps him quiet, takes everything off of his mind. Still, he's said this much, and the more he talks, the more words fall into place. There's effort but also release.
"With what we do, I'm not constructing a trick on myself to pay attention. I don't have to make a puzzle out of it. It's less stressful, most of the time." Yoongi's eyebrows rise at Seokjin's sass, but it's true. Yoongi may inflict stress on Seokjin's body but the bliss in his mind is always worth it. "It's calming even. I feel more in my body, like there's a language barrier I'm always consciously working around between me and everyone else but then D/s is a translator for me to understand. All I have to do is what you tell me, be where you put me.
"The best are the reactions I don't have anything to do with, like goosebumps. You limit my air, tears happen. I don't have to think for a bruise to rise up, but I can see it and trust it's really my body reacting, not something I've talked myself into believing. There's nothing to make sense of. And when it's really good, when you're really good and I kind of slip out of my body, I don't feel guilty like I do when I lose focus. You tell me I'm good and I believe it.
"I can be a crying mess, should feel humiliated after the ways you've pushed me, but then you tell me you think I'm beautiful like that and look at me like..." Like Seokjin deserves his adoration. It's like a wave of heat from Seokjin's head down to his toes thinking about how vicious Yoongi can be with his body, exactly how Seokjin wants him to be, how Seokjin begs and whimpers to be pushed farther than he has before. But what makes it work is how soft Yoongi is with the results, responding to Seokjin's needs with consistent, constant even, reassurance. Not backing off but accommodating.
"How do I look at you?" Yoongi's cheeks warm slightly at Seokjin's appreciation, or maybe from the memories brought up along with it, but Seokjin wants to feed that blush. Nothing may be as delicious to Seokjin as Yoongi's praise but the opportunity to return it is perhaps even sweeter, more valuable in its rarity, enough to push Seokjin to uncommon sincerity.
"You're important to me. No one else has done for me what you have, listened and adapted and taken such time to do it." Yoongi ducks his head to stare at where Seokjin's hands have moved into his lap, but Seokjin can still see his eyes crinkle with satisfaction from underneath his long fringe. "There are people I've had fun with for sure, or opened new paths to things I didn't think I could have, but there's a reason it didn't take long for me to stop going out after we met. And I promise it is not for lack of an interested market. With this face? What do you think?"
Yoongi shoves at Seokjin without looking at him. "I think... I'm very capable at what I put my mind to."
"You're special. Like I don't think you're a miracle worker who will cure me but -"
Yoongi cuts off Seokjin. "Jin-hyung, I don't think that and you shouldn't either because it's not meant to be cured, right?" Seokjin nods, even if there are days he doubts that. Yoongi mutters something else under his breath that sounds suspiciously like 'crazy bastard' but with an expression that's more fond than frustrated. "That's not what I plan--" This time Yoongi cuts himself off and instead meets Jin's eyes deliberately. "What do you want tonight?"
"I want to stick to the plan," Seokjin insists, a little grumpily, like one text was an outlined proposal.
"I figured, but how things were going before, it can't be like that. If it's not working for you, it's not working for me." Yoongi exhales a little grunt as he does when he's thinking. "My only experience playing with someone ace unfortunately doesn't really help here. They were sex-avoidant and out about that. It was at the same club where we met, actually, but ropes, not impact. Suspension. They'd get a kind of mental buzz, headrush from it."
Seokjin didn't know until now that sort of thing was in Yoongi's skill set. Raptly staring at Yoongi's hands a little too long, Seokjin anticipates a very near future where Yoongi can take his time and methodically loop his ropes over his body where Seokjin can see, rather than their typical position hidden behind his back or above his head.
"Yah, don't get ahead of yourself." Yoongi snaps his fingers to get Seokjin's attention back on the conversation but that is not a successful way to get Seokjin to stop thinking about Yoongi's hands. "That's not why I told you that. I just meant that they didn't get aroused during, and didn't want to, so it doesn't apply to this. About tonight, I'm not trying to prepare how we would for a scene or anything, but maybe we can sort out what's on the table, what I should or shouldn't do?"
If Seokjin had a good response for that, maybe he'd have been less avoidant in bringing his situation up in the first place, if he'd had answers. Some things take practice to figure out. "I'm not sure. Nothing is that bad, really? Earlier tonight, I think in hindsight, what was bothering me more than the kissing was needing to tell you and not knowing how." Seokjin rolls the words in his head, wishing he could come up with a less bad way to say it before plowing ahead. "Maybe not doing anything for so long, that can be where it gets less comfortable. Or checking in when I've… fallen out of it? Which, just to say again, has nothing to do with you. Maybe there's a way to stop that, or maybe there isn't even with -"
Yoongi squeezes their interlaced fingers to grab Seokjin's attention back. "There's going to be some trial and error? Okay, I get that. Talking, checking in."
"This was supposed to be easier, a break from all the work you always have to put in. If you don't want to -"
Yoongi doesn't gently interrupt this time, he full-on laughs. "Do I strike you as someone who needs easy? Every minute I've put into what we do has been worth it ten times over, promise. Figuring this out?" Seokjin is so sure he can read Yoongi's semi-obscured face, what he's not saying. "It's probably pretty worth it too."
What Seokjin thinks Yoongi means is that it'll be worth it if they really get together, stay together, build something where they have sex as often out of scene as in it. If Seokjin can, if they can find a balance. But Yoongi wants to find out.
"It's not meant to be that I do all of the work when we play and now it's your turn to take on the burden." Yoongi's not wrong, an awful but all too common state of affairs. Seokjin has gotten into this binary mindset where if everything isn't under Yoongi's control, it has to be under his, not able to consider the possibility that what they were doing didn't need such literal control. "You're not a burden and you aren't alone in this, but we have to agree.
"Checking in means you not holding back what you're feeling, or not feeling. It doesn't have to be more than yes or no but you have to be honest. And I'll believe you, that you like me a frankly embarrassing amount, if you'll believe that you aren't going to hurt my feelings if you don't want something, okay?"
Seokjin knows Yoongi's trying to soften his words with banter but - "Oh god, I really confessed like that, didn't I? Quick, please fuck me already so I don't have time to be mortified." Seokjin tugs on Yoongi's hand and halfway lifts himself on the couch, joking but not. How much more could they really talk?
More, because Yoongi tugs an off-balance Seokjin back to the couch. "Not so fast. Like that, me fucking you? I need to be sure, you don't think we have to have anal, right? Or that you have to bottom, whether you're subbing or not. If there's a way I've touched you in a scene that you haven't wanted because you thought that was part of serving, it's not, and if you never wanted me to touch you sexually again, I would be happy playing with you other ways, however you wanted."
"I know everything I said about faking it other times but that isn't what I mean. I want that with you, Yoongi-yah, to feel you that way. Make each other feel good." It's not the first time Seokjin's thought how much easier it would be to be all one way if not the other, with no interest at all, but he isn't. He has wanted and does want Yoongi to touch him, at least in some ways. He's gotten hard thinking about it, not only in scene together but alone too. But there's a difference he doesn't know how to explain between craving it versus imagining it will feel nice. "But if I do fall out of it for a little, like stop being present? For me, that doesn't mean I'm not okay with it, just kind of neutral. Maybe it would be better if we did it from behind. That way you'll notice less." Seokjin has exploited that tactic in the past, hiding his eyes one way or another.
"I'm not going to get in the habit of purposely ignoring your reactions, vanilla or not, but I'll try to remember what you've said." Yoongi appears otherwise satisfied with the authenticity of Seokjin's consent but still seems to be searching for something, looking past Seokjin as he considers. "I don't want you to feel pressure to lie or say it feels some way it doesn't, but maybe there's a way for you to tell me you're, I don't know, still happy to be here? Not colors, that mixes things up too much."
Seokjin understands but whines his frustration anyway. "I'm bad at coming up with what to say. This is why I like when you tell me what to say!" Yoongi pokes Seokjin's side to scold him for looping back to what they aren't doing instead of what they are. Seokjin in return squeezes Yoongi's hand, like a stress ball he didn't realize he was holding. "What about that? Would that work?"
"Like a reverse safeword? You squeeze every so often, or tap, I know you're good. Go too long without, I'll check in and we'll change whatever needs changing?"
"Let's try that. And, uh, something else." Seokjin doesn't want Yoongi to see his blush but they are close enough now it means he can kind of hide in Yoongi's hair. "Can the checking in go both ways? Like if you could tell me how you're feeling, during. I won't feel it the same way, but it's less like something I'm missing out on if you share it."
It's with a sudden awareness that Seokjin realizes how they've gone from completely separated to edging closer together, each laugh leaning farther in, to how they are now, sides pressed together, fingers tangled. It's only a small pivot for their foreheads to rest together and for the energy to shift with it.
"You like hearing my voice that much, hm?" They are close enough that Seokjin feels the vibration of Yoongi's hum. "Yeah, I can do that."
They barely have to tilt for a small kiss. It's very different from how they started on the couch. Maybe a little too timid but with more promise. Promise and anticipation and yet it's all too possible that Yoongi might try to talk him out of it again or decide they should wait, and Seokjin did not douche earlier for nothing.
"Then it's settled." Seokjin breaks the kiss with determination this time, not regret, and taps Yoongi on the nose before pulling them both off the couch and toward the bedroom. "Why don't we test these ideas out while they're fresh in our minds?"
---
The giggles they caught as Seokjin dragged an unstable Yoongi to the bedroom die down as they concentrate on their buttons and layers, having mutually decided that it's better to undress now so that they won't have to stop and start again. It's not wildly passionate ripping-each-others'-clothes-off as they stand across the room facing away from each other, but Seokjin hopes it means they won't lose momentum later. Maybe Seokjin can get things moving quickly enough that he won't have to think about all the honesty he's promised Yoongi.
It's immature but he sneaks a peek as a naked Yoongi sorts his discarded clothes into the right hampers. Seokjin's seen Yoongi soft after sex but never before, Yoongi typically staying clothed much longer than Seokjin in scene. It's a different kind of intimacy.
He's still looking when Yoongi walks back to him and the bed. Seokjin holds on to the newness of it when he pulls Yoongi against him skin to skin, hovering but not quite kissing. Warmth radiates in the small spaces between their bodies.
"One sec." Yoongi stays as close as he can while pulling the duvet back all the way, and then lays on the bed barely propped up on the headboard. He appears composed in a way Seokjin doesn't feel at all, but he can't tell if it's an act or just Yoongi. Yoongi reaches a hand out and says, "C'mere already."
Seokjin crawls into bed and lies next to Yoongi. Yoongi doesn't kiss him yet. Instead, he runs his eyes followed by his fingertips along all the planes of Seokjin's body, intently taking him in. It's possible Yoongi has always looked at him like that but then, Seokjin interpreted it as maintaining control, taking notes, studying. When Yoongi's eyes move to his face, it doesn't look like he's taking notes. He also looks less composed than before, more nervous. Seokjin inhales and holds it without realizing, not wanting to jostle where Yoongi's nails barely graze his stomach. Seokjin's the one that doesn't like kissing and yet the suspense and scrutiny are killing him.
"Aish, you're too much. Why are you looking at me like that?" Seokjin impulsively blurts out to break the tension.
"There's an awful lot to take in here, you know. No matter how many times I see it, I have to take a minute to admire. Haven't you noticed before?" Ironically enough, Seokjin could kiss that satisfied smirk off Yoongi's face.
"You sound like a cheesy male lead." The idea that there is even a kernel of truth to that, that Yoongi's appraisals have always been appreciation, makes the praise seeking part of Seokjin sing. "Go on."
"See, like now. You smile and I think of how full and nice your lips are. Your ears go red and I notice how cutely shaped they are too." As Yoongi indulges Seokjin, his voice isn't syrupy like it is in aftercare, when neither of them have any brain cells left to facilitate self-consciousness. It's even and sonorous and soothing. Someone else might think it lacks sincerity, but for Seokjin it pours over him like warm salve, closing his eyes both to hide and to savor the sound. "Your eyelashes on your cheeks look so pretty." Seokjin attempts to roll away, but Yoongi finally, finally touches him firmly, keeps him from moving with a hand on Seokjin's waist. "Your waist, your hips… I'm in danger of getting ahead of myself. What about something closer, like your shoulders, or your adam's apple?"
Yoongi successfully charms Seokjin, guiding his chin up gently as he starts kissing along Seokjin's jaw. He's methodical in how he covers each inch of Seokjin's skin, but maneuvers them both each time Seokjin tries to return the act. That's okay for now, Seokjin reasons, he has his own task to adjust to. Seokjin grips Yoongi's shoulder, testing out small rhythmic squeezes. Once he feels settled into the rhythm, Yoongi switches sides but skips over anything in the middle, namely Seokjin's mouth. Seokjin stays clear headed, almost ticklish, so it's not long before he connects the dots, that Yoongi's avoiding kissing him directly.
And perhaps it isn't the healthiest thing, how Seokjin throws himself into experiences, assuming he can cope with the results, whatever they may be, prioritizing others over his own safety and comfort. Perhaps he should appreciate how Yoongi errs on the side of patience when it comes to handling him, knowing Seokjin has trouble doing it himself. But Seokjin is only going to get better if Yoongi trusts him to speak up. He doesn't stop squeezing so much as sharply slaps Yoongi's shoulder to signal a pause.
Yoongi jerks back sluggishly, startled but with lips parted, swollen red and wet. There's an aesthetic appeal to it, certainly. He shakes the daze from his eyes before asking, "Too much?"
"Yoongi-yah, kiss me," Seokjin demands. Yoongi leans in but there's hesitation, a stuttering movement as Yoongi measures what he should do, what's okay, what won't lead to Seokjin acting how he did in the living room. Seokjin speaks up again before Yoongi can bring their mouths together. "I asked you to kiss me so why won't you? I thought you wanted to."
Yoongi falls back on the pillows with a thud. "I do want to but I got the impression you didn't. That you don't like kissing and I don't want to do something to you that you don't want."
Seokjin tugs Yoongi's hand into his, unable to maintain eye contact but keeping a second line of communication open through touch. "No, I guess I don't really like kissing as a concept. I spend most of the time I'm doing it not getting it. But I do like that you like to be kissed. That's reason enough for me." Yoongi traces his fingertips over Seokjin's thigh as he listens and Seokjin watches the patterns. "We can't figure out anything, how to work it out, if that can work for you at all if it works for me, if we don't try it."
"We don't necessarily have to work it out," Yoongi counters. "Hard limits don't have to follow some linear scale."
"Mhmm, and sometimes two willing parties reach a compromise." Lighting up with a cheeky idea, Seokjin sits up straighter, squaring his shoulders and preparing to be right. "You want to make this a conversation about limits. Ok, then. Scale of one to five. One, never want it under any circumstance. Five, want it all the time. Where does making out fall for you? Honestly."
Yoongi sucks his teeth as he assesses Seokjin. Seokjin raises and lowers his eyebrows in challenge. Knowing he'll be called out if he tries to lie, Yoongi gives a dry small chuckle before saying, "It's a 5, okay? Have you seen your mouth?" Seokjin won't give Yoongi his hand back when he attempts to cover his face. "But your very plush lips aren't the point. You shouldn't have to do something to make someone else happy."
"You're right, I don't have to do anything and you're not making me feel like I do." The inside joke is that Seokjin is referencing a specific worksheet scale they used in early negotiations. The other levels of the scale are two 'not a fan, but could', three '50/50', and four 'not every time, but look forward to it'. "For me, if it's more than two but not quite three, we can call that a two point five, yeah? Without letting math kill the mood, I do think that averages out to more than zero?"
"I can go without, really."
"And sometimes you may have to with me." It makes all the difference that Seokjin does know that, that he believes Yoongi. That he has said 'stop' to him before and Yoongi did and the night hadn't been over or so awkward that they never saw each other again. That Yoongi acknowledges that what's okay once might not be okay next time. "You'll know right after I do when those times are, but you have to listen to me and believe me until then. I don't think that's now so let me try."
Yoongi can't be unaware that it's not Seokjin's preference to lead, but he waits for Seokjin to make the move anyway, needing Seokjin's actions to show some of his words. Seokjin shifts back down the bed to lie on his side, casting a shadow from the bedside lamp across Yoongi's face with how he leans over him. Their noses brush first. This is the part Seokjin likes best, sharing breath and heat, close enough and delicate enough to feel the soft peach fuzz on Yoongi's upper lip. Once started, the kiss settles into an overly self-aware if manageable rotation of lips-tongue-teeth-repeat until Yoongi's tongue chases Seokjin's back into his own mouth, hopefully hooked enough now that Yoongi will follow Seokjin when he drops back to his shoulder. Seokjin's proven right.
In this new position with Yoongi above again, Seokjin seeks out a safe place along Yoongi's ribs to squeeze at a gentle tempo. When Yoongi does something Seokjin likes, Seokjin finds his whole body rolling, seeking out more. When he likes it less, like after they've been suctioned together for a little too long, Seokjin murmurs a quiet protest that gets Yoongi to pull back, but Seokjin pulls him back into a series of short kisses before Yoongi can get too far away.
The best times are when rather than a sweeping invasion, Yoongi's tongue darts in and out between brief open mouth kisses, the teasing notion of a deeper kiss that never quite coalesces into a fully formed idea. No matter how many times they repeat it, Seokjin doesn't have enough time to fixate on what to do during it, so the enjoyable part doesn't get crowded out by discomfort.
The shorter kisses also lend themselves better to roaming and returning. Seokjin gets his own opportunity to suck a small mark on Yoongi's jaw where there's a scant patch of stubble, to nip at his earlobe and clack his teeth against Yoongi's earrings. The novelty of different textures of skin and bone give Seokjin a reason to keep going and the barely audible nasal whines from Yoongi as he does it give him reason to return to Yoongi's lips.
It's an adjustment to see Yoongi this eager, this feral rather than composed. It makes Seokjin feel powerful. He draws Yoongi into a deeper kiss to thank him for the feeling. Even after Seokjin has to break it, they linger, forehead to forehead, Yoongi's heaving breaths settling.
"How are you feeling?" Yoongi asks.
"Nervous still, but good. You're good?" Though they aren't directly on top of each other, Seokjin is aware of Yoongi's cock against him, where their naked legs are tangled together, and the way the head is slightly sticky against his thigh. Seokjin himself isn't hard so much as filled out.
"I'm good. Is there something else I could do to make you feel less nervous?"
"Everyone gets nervous with first times together. I want this. I want you." It gets easier to say each time, despite how the weight of the heat between them makes Seokjin work to get enough air. Though Yoongi can't understand exactly how Seokjin means it, the caveats and exceptions woven in it, Yoongi at least knows what Seokjin is trying to express. It feels less like lying now.
"Ok, I'm listening and I'm believing. I just want you to trust me," Yoongi says as he presses another brief peck on Seokjin's mouth before kissing a trail from Seokjin's sweat-damp temple down his jaw. Of all things, that's never been in question. Seokjin has trusted Yoongi with his mind and body completely and every time is eager to do it again. Trust has nothing to do with Seokjin's nerves, but maybe this is about Yoongi asking for what he needs to hear.
"I trust you, Yoongi." Some part of Seokjin adds, "I'm yours," but the sound doesn't escape his lips, transformed into a gasp instead when Yoongi bites his shoulder a hair more viciously than he has so far. Neither of them can be surprised by the positive reaction that elicits, but perhaps that's another display of gratitude between them.
"What else? Anything you're feeling," Yoongi encourages while inching his way farther down Seokjin's pecs. The way Yoongi lets barely the edge of his teeth drag along gives Seokjin a satisfying shiver. "You have to let me know where you're at so I can follow."
Seokjin tries to assess his body, not exaggerating but not fixating on the anxiety they've already covered either, concentrating on the most direct interpretation. "Wet," Seokjin starts with a giggle. "You've been thorough with that tongue. Um, cared for. Impatient. A little light headed."
The smile Yoongi presses against Seokjin's chest is warm, not wicked like Seokjin's expecting. "Impatient, huh? Cared for is nice though, doing something right." Yoongi keeps his eyes on Seokjin's face as he scoots farther down the bed with purpose, always studying. Once settled between Seokjin's legs, he takes Seokjin's hand and separates two fingers from the rest before setting them to Seokjin's hip. "Here, in case it's uncomfortable to keep your hands on me, tap here. And I'm definitely still listening if you want to talk. My mouth might be a little busy, if you'll let me treat hyung."
Seokjin gives a nod but sucks in a sharp breath, bracing for the anticipation to go either way. It's a small comfort in the swirl of reactions in his chest, used to the touch of Yoongi's mouth but not to seeing Yoongi below him like this, that at least he knows what to do with one of his hands. The other rests awkwardly on his stomach until it jumps when Yoongi's tongue laves along the seam of his balls, bypassing his cock entirely.
"Oh, that feels…" It had felt so good when Yoongi first flicked his tongue along his sack, and then almost a whiteout load of sensation when Yoongi pinched the same sensitive skin between his lips, but now as he follows up with steadier licks, the twisting stomach feeling isn't a pleasant jump anymore. The novelty of a sensation will feel nice, or at least his brain interprets different as nice, but then on a third or fourth pass, it mellows into an uneasy static. "More, but somewhere else. Too much." Yoongi moves his mouth to Seokjin's cock and the feeling shifts to something warm, tingly.
Maybe if the goal was overstimming, they could harness that static, but here all it does is garble the feedback in Seokjin's nerve endings until he has to take a break from his body for a second. He considers the ceiling texture above him and the pattern the lampshade casts on it. Yoongi blessedly doesn't try to talk to him while Seokjin's away, but when he comes back, one thigh is hitched over Yoongi's shoulder and their hands on that side, opposite of Seokjin's tapping side, are intertwined. Seokjin doesn't know if he stopped tapping or just slowed but he squeezes Yoongi's hand in his grasp and starts tapping again with the other.
Yoongi kisses the sensitive inner skin of Seokjin's thigh, each little red mark accompanied by a jump of Seokjin's hips, until he works his way to Seokjin's belly. Whatever Yoongi had or hadn't done while Seokjin took a break, Seokjin's cock is hard now, curved all the way up against him with the head shiny and exposed next to his navel. Some things are reliable, like how Seokjin gasps when Yoongi dips his tongue around the crown teasingly. "S'good, s'good."
Yoongi smirks with his mouth full and Seokjin likes that. He'll keep talking to get that. It's not lying to say it's warm and wet and soft or to say how Yoongi looks like he's having fun. There's a point where Seokjin loses track of his rambling, giving into a tangent about giving blowjobs rather than receiving (less feeling, more doing). "The more you like it, the more I like it, but you feel so far away. Maybe if we could 69 or…"
Yoongi stops bobbing his head, just long enough to encourage him breathlessly, "This is good. I'll try too. Keep talking. Or what? Tell me, hyung."
"Or if you were kneeling over my chest, you could feed me your cock, whatever pace you wanted, your legs pinning my arms. Full of you, used by you." (What he wants is to know whatever he does is right, with no room for doubt in his increasingly echoing mind.) If Yoongi wasn't holding his hand, Seokjin would have thrown his forearm over his mouth to muzzle himself.
"Mm, sexy but maybe a different kind of drifting than we're worried about tonight."
"Hm?" It takes a fuzzy moment for Seokjin to parse Yoongi's meaning. Not to retreat to subspace without Yoongi leading him there.
"But I'll remember, I promise, pet. Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're feeling, whatever kind of drifting you feel, it's okay, it's good, just tell me. Help me take care of you well."
Like with kissing, it's best when it varies, short and long, firm and teasing, a game of red light-green light. Seokjin stays in an even place, aroused, in pleasure when Yoongi touches him, drifting less but without building towards anything. The constant self-awareness blocks any desperation he might normally create to reach the finish line. Seokjin sees a window to appeal to move things on, Yoongi wearing down in both the positive sense, short aborted thrusts against the bed, and the less positive, Yoongi's jaw tiring leading to more teeth grazes and breaking off for breath. "Can we... you know what I want. We want, right? Please, Yoongi."
"All this attention and still impatient." Yoongi lets go of Seokjin's hand to skim his palms across Seokjin's abdomen, raising goosebumps in his wake. "What is it we want, beautiful?" Yoongi may not have officially capitulated yet but Seokjin knows when and where to reach to hand Yoongi the lube from the bedside table, not through telepathy but habit (and a small amount of hope), because Yoongi broadcasts his next move by gently pushing Seokjin's thighs further apart with his shoulders.
"Impatient and sweaty now. Want you inside." It's been too long for Seokjin, a week since the dildo and months since another man, to take Yoongi with no prep, but there's nevertheless a temptation to rush through it, lean on muscle memory and a copious amount of lube to make it work. Yoongi teases with a wet finger, encouraging Seokjin's words. "Your hands now, your cock later. Soon. You're mean."
Yoongi laughs but relents, going from one finger to two in only a few strokes as they work together with practiced certainty. "Mean? Me? I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm just a sweet boy."
Seokjin snorts, but it's true. Yoongi is mean and sweet, silly and serious, and it's nice to experience that and this intimacy at the same time. Sure, in past scenes there have been a few derisive chuckles at Seokjin's expense, or afterwards, they would giggle softly while talking, somewhere not quite recovered or self-possessed yet. But getting that during, dumb one-liners without holding character - it's nice. There's a bit of the sadist remaining as Yoongi bumps firmly into Seokjin's prostate ever so quickly but enough to make a blurt of pre-come drool out of his cock, laying against his stomach softer than before.
Seokjin lets out a sound that is both moan and protest before he can retort, "Definitely mean. Get more lube in there so I don't have to wait."
"But you look so good." Yoongi keeps moving his fingers while leaving more kisses against whatever of Seokjin's skin he can easily reach, eyes intense and burning whenever they flick up to meet Seokjin's. "Do you like it wet?"
This is a decision point. If Seokjin said yes, maybe Yoongi would do it, get above him and inside him and finally overwhelm him. But in truth, Seokjin doesn't. "No. I…Obviously, some lube needed, but it's best, for me, when there's still some friction. Drag, stretch, rough." Yoongi is hanging on every word Seokjin says, flushed and tongue peeking out between his lips, despite Seokjin's hiccupping little moans between each breath, buying precious seconds to think of how to say these deeply personal things he's never tried to put into words before, not aloud. "Too wet and it's difficult to feel my rim or anything like that, it's… grounding I guess? I have to really feel it for it to work."
"That's so hot, hyung. Whatever you need. You like knowing how hot I find you and what you need, right?" The way Yoongi says it, heated like that, it sounds like 'need' in the sexy, full of desire way, rather than a strategy or trick Seokjin has to employ. With that framing, it almost sounds normal.
Seokjin gasps an affirmative. He doesn't know how Yoongi is coming up with more things to say, praising Seokjin, his body, his sounds. The fact is Yoongi could be repeating the same five things and Seokjin would squirm all the same.
While he talks, Yoongi doesn't let up on the lube and stretch, but he does press and rub at Seokjin's perineum with his thumb with a dryness that kind of mimics what Seokjin said. Ever a reliable dom, Yoongi figures out an approach to provide the sensation Seokjin's brain connects with while protecting him against any lasting pain that wouldn't be fair to his body, gives him the illusion of what he wants even when it isn't good for him. It feels amazing to Seokjin; he keeps tapping, he's ready. Yoongi finally agrees when Seokjin takes a third finger without so much as a flinch.
"You want to be on top, control the pace?" Yoongi asks after he's gotten off the bed to get a condom. Seokjin refuses to answer beyond rolling his eyes and scooting farther down, away from the headboard. "I thought I should at least ask, geez." Seokjin's caught in it right now and he doesn't want to lose it. He knows he's going to, that it can't last, but maybe they can get far enough before then.
As soon as Yoongi is knelt between Seokjin's legs, Seokjin yanks Yoongi forward, Seokjin letting his knees easily come up to his shoulders as part of the movement. "I don't get to show that off if I'm on top."
"Fuck," Yoongi says succinctly, tracing a hand under Seokjin's thigh and back to his ankle, hiking it all the way over his shoulder. "How could I ever forget?"
With his hands braced around Yoongi's neck, Yoongi must feel Seokjin's every tremble as Yoongi enters him. Seokjin knows perfectly well how to bear down but then the moment comes where he has to truly relax, take a breath, and he's still stretched and full. A nasal whine escapes with the exhale and a laugh because he's already wrecked, after waiting for so long. He's gone just soft enough waiting that the way Yoongi presses their pelvises all the way together hurts perfectly.
The sensation is pleasurable and right for the first few thrusts, subtle pain lingering around the edges, of his hole and his hips, processing this new state of affairs. Seokjin taps absentmindedly on Yoongi's pec, pushing against him to keep him balanced. Yoongi shifts his angle every minute or so, quietly focusing on what might work best, but as time goes on and Yoongi settles into easier thrusts, Seokjin struggles a little again.
"I...It feels good but…I can't..." This is what's too hard, when he doesn't know what to ask for, doesn't know how to ask for help. He doesn't even know where his other hand is, laying uselessly on the sheets until Yoongi is pulling Seokjin's wrist to his mouth for soft soothing kisses. Yoongi moves their joined hands above Seokjin's head. Seokjin lets the hand that's been on Yoongi's chest fall back to the bed where his other is, subtly trying to cross his wrists. He worries Yoongi will call him out on it, but Yoongi smiles indulgently. "Is that okay if…? I can still tap. I will, promise."
"Okay, as long as you'll stay down with one hand. Anything for you, beautiful boy." After a few adjustments to make sure the delicate bones of his wrists are lined up safely, Yoongi tests the new arrangement with a long low grind of his hips. Yoongi's teeth dig into his bottom lip as he pulls back and does it again.
"Is it good?" Seokjin asks. He's entranced by the look on Yoongi's face, furrowed brow and eyes half closed.
"Oh, babe." Seokjin's not used to so many pet names beyond, well, pet. Yoongi sounds the most wrecked Seokjin's ever heard him and it's like Seokjin is trying to pour that feeling into his own veins every time they lock eyes, no longer trying to look away. "It feels amazing, even better than I thought it would. You're always so good to me and the way you bend is just…"
It's like Yoongi is talking for him, giving Seokjin ideas of how it could feel, and he's not sure if it's so hot on it's own or if it's how it relaxes Seokjin enough to feel for himself, to not be lost in his body. The most Seokjin fakes are a few louder than natural moans but he doesn't know how else to thank Yoongi for every effort he's made, tonight, every night they've spent together. Seokjin rolls his hips up as best he can in this position to meet Yoongi thrust for thrust.
There's a point when Yoongi is buried as deep as he possibly can be that they share a few messy open mouth kisses, wetter than anything Seokjin would normally tolerate, but it demands too much coordination, too much distraction from the waves of sensation starting to fill Seokjin's chest and pulse through him. He can't control any part of his body, can't tell what's going on beyond the thread of an orgasm slipping in and out of reach. Tapping morphs into squeezes and then one long tight grip between them, as tight as Yoongi's other fist stroking him.
Because Yoongi is there, with him, and he trusts Yoongi. Yoongi who thinks Seokjin's beautiful and good and who feels good because of Seokjin. Yoongi who is gasping those exact words as best he can, grunts slipping between phrases, all to keep Seokjin there with him. Seokjin pushes his body to do whatever makes Yoongi's clasp on him tighten and his thrusts shake, focuses on the burn in his thighs that means Seokjin can't be anywhere but in his body, praying Yoongi will come before something cramps. It threatens to shake and fall apart when Yoongi comes first, but when Seokjin begs, "One second longer, just a second longer," while nodding frantically, Yoongi gives Seokjin exactly what he needs.
---
It should feel different than other times he's come back from a world-shaking orgasm in Yoongi's bed, and it does, but in fewer ways than Seokjin expected. It's not exactly like coming out of subspace, more like slipping sideways back into his body, oxygen refilling his cells slowly, as Seokjin's senses refocus. He doesn't have to navigate any kind of subdrop, but the creeping possibility of an emotional hangover is there like after a long cry, the drain of all of the honesty he's forced himself to experience. There are no abrasions to gingerly shift his weight off of but his hip flexors definitely ache.
Most similar of all is Yoongi combing Seokjin's hair off Seokjin's face with his fingers, murmuring, "So good for me," in a way Seokjin can't be certain he's meant to hear.
Seokjin keeps his eyes closed and lets it go on a little longer before interrupting. "You don't have to do that."
"Mm, do you not like it?" Yoongi's closer than Seokjin realized, breath puffing over his cheek.
"You know I do," Seokjin admits lazily with a dry laugh, too fucked out to protest with any vehemence.
"Then let me do it."
"First, have this then." Seokjin doesn't bother to open his eyes when he tugs Yoongi into a kiss that he doesn't so much initiate as invite to happen. It takes a little encouragement from Seokjin's tongue; they don't typically kiss during aftercare, but Yoongi ultimately is tempted, taking control and deepening the kiss. Had they not had the conversations they did tonight, Seokjin still doesn't think Yoongi would blame him for being a less-than-active participant, boneless as he is.
Yoongi ends it with a smile against Seokjin's mouth that Seokjin finally opens his eyes to appreciate. Yoongi appears less wrecked than Seokjin likely does, but he's flushed and hair-mussed and lovely. "Thank you for that, but you didn't have to."
"Well, I don't need a reward either." Seokjin massages one hand with the other, sore from squeezing. Yoongi echoes the restless motion, squeezing at Seokjin's quad, which must have been shaking at some point, sensitivity sparking as Yoongi works the muscle. "Which is what you saying things like that normally is."
Worse than reward is the possibility it's an apology, meaning even now Yoongi might not fully believe that Seokjin wanted to have sex, within the parameters established. Yoongi is the one who deserves an apology, for how Seokjin had needed distance, to be held down, to handle being close.
Yoongi shrugs. "You did something difficult."
"It wasn't difficult to have sex with you," which all in all is more true than Seokjin expected.
"No," Yoongi insists, "what was difficult for you was sharing something personal with me you were scared to say. You let me open you up in these intense ways all the time, let yourself be physically and mentally vulnerable in my hands, but that doesn't scare you the way this did. But you did it. And I reward you not when you do things you don't want to do, but when you do something difficult that you want really badly."
It isn't quite as exposing as his unrestrained confession to Yoongi earlier, heart on his sleeve, but the words Yoongi offers are too close to being known, being seen. Seokjin squeezes his eyes shut again out of denial of the two tiny trails of wetness escaping at the corners. Yoongi gathers up the damp hand towel resting on Seokjin's abs that Seokjin had yet to register, and jokingly dabs at Seokjin's cheeks. "Yah, wait. Were you using that to clean up?" Seokjin shouts with a sudden incredulous burst of energy.
They both laugh and then shove each other dangerously close to the edge of the bed. Seokjin takes the offered towel to the bathroom and finishes wiping himself off. When he returns, Yoongi's got the lights out and a fresh sheet pulled back. As soon as Seokjin gets the pillow under his head, Yoongi spoons up behind him, arm wrapping around Seokjin to return them to their post-coital bubble.
"Is it okay if I wasn't done talking earlier?" Yoongi asks, voice husky against Seokjin's ear. It's easy to nod in the dark. "Made me feel so special. You give me so much and I want you to know I know. Tonight was perfect exactly as it was." That had been Seokjin's biggest fear, that Seokjin not wanting Yoongi the right way would lead Yoongi to think he was unwanted. There's no chance for Seokjin to get that reassurance across before Yoongi continues, the honeyed sweetness suddenly dropped from his tone. Seokjin's hair stands on end in rapt attention on instinct. "And next time you beg me to fill you, I'm going to split you open. If what you want is for me to fuck you though the mattress and take everything you have, I'll fucking do it."
Seokjin doesn't feel like floating anymore. He grabs Yoongi's forearm, the one laying on his chest, with both hands and struggles to get across the intensity he's feeling in the strength of his grip. Seokjin wants that. They'll find a middle ground. They started building tonight and everything they build together only gets better with time.
They lie together, locked in that moment, for a little longer. Seokjin knows they won't fall asleep like this. Even when they do fall asleep spooning, they always drift apart through the course of a night, a hand reached out or ankle touching marking the way back if needed. Yoongi shifts as if to roll over but Seokjin holds on.
"In the morning," Seokjin whispers into the pitch black room, "I'll probably be easy for it, stretched still. You don't need to wake me. Sleepy sex can be good, too, for…" Yoongi has enough for now to fill in the blanks, for things Seokjin hopes he can get better at saying. No intense reactions expected. Yoongi could take from him while treating him as gently as he wants. "Just an idea to put out there."
"My pretty boy has such good ideas. Sleep well, Seokjinnie-hyung." Seokjin loosens his grip and Yoongi adjusts to give them each a little more space but leaves his arm across Seokjin's waist, tethering.
With a calming breath, Seokjin settles into his bones for the first time in a week maybe. There's a hard thump in his chest as whatever remaining stress is left leaves his body through Yoongi's fingertips fidgeting against his tummy. There might be another whole feeling between his ribs that Seokjin will have to discuss eventually, but it's still forming. They have time.