Chapter Text
A/N: Thank you everyone for your patience. I know it’s been longer than a month and that pains me. I had a lot going on, so many things that made writing difficult. I am not pleased at all with this chapter, but I tried my best, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you again to anyone who commented, kudos’d, or subscribed to this story. It means a lot.
Thank you to my betas Jess, Heather, and Gema.
Questions? TW l CC
Rosewater and Frills
I am the sun, you know you need me.
And you might get burned if you take too much - X
Chapter Two: Sweat
It was the following Saturday that Jimin brought Hoseok to club Rubix, where they were supposed to meet up with a couple of his friends. “It’s no one you know, personally,” Jimin said, fixing his eyeliner in the mirror. Hoseok decided to wear minimal makeup, his eyebrows shaped and his dark hair parted to one side. He was dressed in a simple, crimson silk button-up and jeans.
The room was alive with a swarm of overcrowded bodies and music that pulsed and seduced Hoseok into step with the beat. At sixteen years old, Hoseok had already managed to amass a following, having helped in several choreographed pieces that were passed down to other companies. He loved to dance, ever since he was a boy, so he honed his skills in order to do it professionally, graduating from college and working full-time at his own studio.
Now, at twenty-seven, he had less passion for, well, everything, which made it difficult to remain motivated. At work he danced to perfection, but it lacked the charm he was typically known for, without any life or spark. He was on auto-pilot after Namjoon. The beauty and warmth of their relationship had shattered into pieces and froze before it could sink. It stayed where it was, fresh, no matter how much time had passed. Hoseok’s wounds remained as scars, flaring up on rainy days, burning beneath every little touch.
‘That’s what you get for not seeing it sooner,’ his mind would taunt him, berating and cruel. ‘You missed all the signs. You should’ve had your eyes open.’
Hoseok inhaled shakily, focusing on the heat consuming him. There was sweat beading against his hairline and at the back of his neck. The sheer fabric of his shirt started clinging to his skin. Hoseok was addicted to that feeling; his muscles engaged, body drenched with perspiration, his heart pounding away inside his chest as he rolled his hips and raised his arms, movements practiced and effortless.
Jimin had the foresight to take Hoseok somewhere that had a dance floor. He knew that Hoseok needed to lose himself in order to gain something, whether it be peace or stability. Jimin had already tapped out, taking a seat at one of the tables. He pressed an ice-cube against the side of his neck while checking his phone. Yoongi and Jeongguk were just now arriving.
Hoseok had no idea that they were coming, which was for the best, in Jimin’s opinion. There was a high chance Hoseok would have refused to go out at all if he’d known, and it was somewhat of a miracle that the plans went through in the first place—that he was out there dancing like he used to, escaping. Jimin had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t a betrayal. It was more like a helpful shove in the right direction.
Jimin was merely a fairy, dead set on making Hoseok’s fantasies come true, even if it was through means of deception.
Yoongi entered the club with Jeongguk’s hand in his grip, keeping his boyfriend close to him as they sifted through the crowd. Jimin was seated at one of the tables near the back of the room, waving a hand when they’d been spotted. “Sorry we’re late, traffic was a fucking nightmare,” Yoongi said, the expression on his face unforgivingly sharp despite his apologetic tone.
Jimin was familiar with how intense Yoongi’s stare could be. It was one of the first things Jimin noticed when he watched one of their shows, finding himself more inclined to look at Jeongguk, even now. The boy was dressed in black from head to toe, the complete opposite of what his online persona would suggest. He was as gothic-looking as Yoongi was, standing there in black denim joggers, laced stompers, a plain t-shirt, and a bucket hat.
Yoongi was more casual, wearing a dark sweatshirt with the sleeves cuffed at his elbows, a pair of distressed jeans, and a black snapback with chunky metal rings running through it. They took a seat, Yoongi reaching for the drink menu and paused, wanting to be considerate. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all,” Jimin said, flashing them both a smile. “I could probably use something strong myself. It’s been a hell of a week.”
“Baby?” Yoongi asked, sliding his hand over Jeongguk’s thigh, giving the tender muscle there a firm squeeze. It’d been leg day at the gym and his boyfriend was extra sore, but Jeongguk liked being reminded of the pain, that he’d done a good job.
Jeongguk leaned towards him, having to physically stop himself from going in for a kiss. Poor Jimin didn’t deserve to be nauseated this evening. “Go ahead, hyung. Order me something sweet.”
“One for Hoseok, too, please… something light. He sobers up when he drinks hard liquor, if that makes any sense,” Jimin said, giving a shake of his head. It was wild, how alcohol seemed to have the opposite effect on his friend.
“It does, actually. We have a friend who overthinks whenever he's drinking, so he avoids it altogether.” Yoongi looked around the room, as though he would be able to spot someone he’d never seen before, this ‘Hoseok’—who had inspired this meet-up in the first place. Jimin had insisted that it would be the boost his friend needed to get over a difficult time. “So, where is our little fan boy?”
“Yeah! I’m so excited to meet him,” Jeongguk perked, his doe-eyes softening when he looked at Jimin. “And you, Jimin-ssi. Finally, we're able to hang out.”
“Hyung is fine,” Jimin said, reassuring Jeongguk with a sassy little wink. He was naturally flirtatious, unable to help himself. Cam work didn’t help him much with this habit. Jimin was so used to trying to make everyone like him that he often forgot how to be himself; overdoing it, leading people on, feeling like he had to give everyone who wanted a piece of him, something. “And Hoseok is still dancing.”
Jimin gave a slight tilt of his head, trying to pinpoint Hoseok’s exact location, when a couple parted from one another, and Hoseok was there, drowning in color beneath an array of bright neon lights. Jimin smirked as he gestured, knowing full well that Hoseok was a sight to behold. “There, the one in red.”
Yoongi looked out towards the crowd, his eyes immediately drawn to a boy with brunette hair, dressed in a thin, silky red shirt. Yoongi could see the sweat trickling down the sides of his face, along the delicate line of his neck—small rivulets catching in the flash of strobe lights, dripping from the curve of his petite nose and the tip of his chin. Hoseok’s presence was like a heavy glare, one that Yoongi met dead-on.
The hand resting on Jeongguk’s inner-thigh tensed involuntarily, Jeongguk sucking in a breath, just as fixated on Hoseok. It was a mutual response, Jeongguk noting the way the other man moved, his steps precise and hypnotic. Some of it looked choreographed, like Jeongguk had seen it before. He curled his fingers around Yoongi’s, and his boyfriend looked at him before his eyes shifted to Jimin.
“That’s your friend?” Yoongi asked, the question pointed, although partly skeptical. Whenever Yoongi thought of their fans, he was instantly assailed with images of older men or female K-pop enthusiasts. There was the minority that struck him as young, but there were so few.
Hoseok didn’t appear as the type to need a paid service to get him off.
“Yup, that’s him. Your biggest fan,” Jimin casually mentioned again, as though giving away this information wouldn’t upset Hoseok in some shape or form. He was only moments away from completely humiliating his best friend, but he was riding on the notion that this evening would end in Hoseok’s favor. His gorgeous, witty hyung.
Jimin wasn’t so detached that he couldn’t admit that Hoseok was beautiful, a total catch before, and after, Namjoon eviscerated him. If it hadn’t been for the vow of platonic friendship, Jimin would have fucked him eons ago. Probably more than that—would’ve kept Hoseok around just to see what would come from it. Now he loved the bastard, with all of his black little heart.
“He’s cute,” was all Yoongi could manage, wrapping whatever inklings of attraction he felt into a simplified compliment. It was almost painful, because this friend, this fan of theirs—he really wasn’t so simple. The expression on Yoongi’s face darkened, wondering if this was a trick somehow, if Hoseok was a trap.
When Jimin had first posed their meeting at a club, Yoongi had assumed it would be to cheer his friend up, have a few laughs and some drinks. However, watching Hoseok move so fluidly, sensing the vibes he was putting out, his body language practically dripping with sex, Yoongi could say with certainty that Hoseok wasn’t the one in need of rescuing.
There was an exhausted smile pulling at Hoseok’s lips as he stopped to gaze up at the lights, eyes bleary. He was coming back to his senses, as though he finally remembered where he was and that he wasn’t alone. Jimin had yet to return for him. That probably meant that his friends had arrived, not that Hoseok was in a rush. Voluntary socializing wasn’t something he’d been interested in, nor would it be the highlight of his evening.
All the heat in the room seemed to gravitate towards him the more he calmed down, able to now feel the sweat rolling down the back of his shirt. Hoseok made his way towards their table, unable to make out the additional company. It wasn’t until he placed a hand on the wooden surface and sat his ass down that he even looked up to acknowledge everyone.
Recognition bloomed so sweetly, Yoongi’s head tilting ever so slightly as he took in the full-bodied shudder and deep flush of Hoseok’s skin. The reaction was visceral, against his will, and instantaneous. Jimin’s plump lips curved into a knowing smirk, and all Hoseok wanted to do was die within that moment, barely able to make eye-contact with Jeongguk, who was trying.
‘This isn’t real,’ Hoseok thought, on the brink of panicking. ‘This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t—’
“It’s nice to meet you,” came the soft, familiar chord of Jeongguk’s rich voice. “You already know hyung and I, though, right?”
It wasn’t unkind, nor was it teasing; however, it was still mortifying. Hoseok could feel the dread seeping inside his bones, coating them in webs.
Yoongi hummed, looking between Hoseok and Jimin. “Why does this seem like an ambush?”
“Because it is,” Jimin confirmed, reaching over to pat Hoseok’s hand and startling when Hoseok flinched at the contact. Hoseok was angry. “I thought it would be fun to leave it as a surprise. Why? You don’t like it, hyung?”
Hoseok glared at Jimin then. The little shit was backing him into a corner, forcing him to answer, in kind. There wasn’t a version of this moment where Hoseok would ever say that meeting his favorite cam couple wasn’t exactly what he wanted, because he did fantasize, and he’d done plenty of daydreaming. Was this how Hoseok would have gone about it? No.
In fact, something like this wouldn’t happen outside his dreams. Hoseok would never willingly subject Yoongi and Jeongguk to the mess he was, and Jimin must've known that.
“I never said that, but I’m sure this must be so uncomfortable,” Hoseok muttered, the distaste evident in his tone.
“For whom?” Yoongi asked, his sharp eyes glittering in the dim light; amused and unbothered by Hoseok’s attitude. He let his gaze linger on the side of Hoseok’s face, taking in the tremble of his sweat-dampened skin.
Hoseok stared down at the table, as though a portal would open up and swallow him whole. “Do you make a habit of meeting up with your fans, Yoongi-ssi? Jeongguk-ssi?”
“I mean, I’ve fucked and created content with some of mine back in the day.” Jimin laughed in an effort to break the ice. A pleasant, ‘ah’ escaping him when drinks were placed down in front of them. “Hoseok, you remember Taemin. Got lucky with him. He’s a model now.”
The Taemin era wasn’t one that Hoseok wanted to revisit at the moment. He merely rolled his eyes in response, biting his inner cheek to keep from imploding.
“Sometimes it’s unavoidable to run into fans of our show, especially when our community is kinda small and we frequent the same hangouts, but I’m not weirded out, hyung. I promise,” Jeongguk said, the look on his face honest and painfully sincere. Hoseok felt his chest ache. He was Jeonggukie’s hyung.
“I’m not much bothered by it either, unless their intent is unsolicited,” Yoongi explained while he sorted out the drinks. He slid a whiskey neat over to Jimin and the other one on over to himself. Jeongguk and Hoseok’s drinks were the same, both clear and fizzy, fading into a deep red at the bottom of the glass, and garnished with a cherry. “Shirley Temple, Gguk-ah’s favorite.”
“It’s a mocktail,” Jimin said as he leaned over and plucked the cherry from Hoseok’s drink. Hoseok was far too annoyed to do anything about it.
“But like,” Jeongguk started, beginning to mumble his words in a familiar way. Cute, babyish—using one side of his mouth to get the words out. “It’s really, really yummy. Besides, we don’t need to drink to have a good time, right?”
Hoseok was about to say something snide when Jeongguk visibly pouted, “You don’t trust me, hyung?”
Fuck. In response, Hoseok brought the small black straw to his lips and took a large sip, his eyes meeting Jeongguk’s heavily when a refreshing hit of Sprite and cherry flavors clashed on his palette. The younger boy beamed a smile, flashing Hoseok his bunny teeth, and Hoseok felt himself reduced into pieces. This was worse than sitting in front of his desk, endeared by Jeongguk’s sweetness.
It was worse because there was no anonymity.
Even when Jeongguk wasn’t dressed up as he usually was, like a doll ready to be played with, he was still so appealing. It was odd how Hoseok preferred him like this, since it meant that he’d come as himself. Yoongi and Jeongguk both. Hoseok could try and make an effort here for the sake of the evening. Once they were home, he had every intention of ripping Jimin a new ass.
“You’re right, it’s really good, Jeongguk-ssi,” he said, grinning around the straw. Hoseok knew he had a killer smile, that he used to be able to light up a room with his humor and energy. This moment reminded him that he was out of practice.
Yoongi drank his whiskey slowly, savoring it under his tongue. “So, as the only non-sex worker here, what is it that you do?”
It was difficult to concentrate with Yoongi’s full attention on him. Hoseok had felt Yoongi’s eyes since the moment he approached the table, and Yoongi had yet to look away. It made him more nervous, like he was somehow see-through, and Yoongi could see every perverse part of his being, the ones dedicated specifically to watching him and his boyfriend fuck.
Hoseok tried, albeit a little shakily, “Well, I choreograph–”
“Hyung owns his own dance studio, and he often receives commissions from big companies. You know Kang Staniel’s new song, ‘Terrornoia’, or Hyoona’s, ‘I’m Not Cute’? Hoseokie-hyung choreographed both of those dances with his team.” Jimin was doing all the talking, which was a great deal more than Hoseok would ever attempt to brag about, but he had little say on the matter.
“I know those songs! I’ve been obsessed with those choreos!” Jeongguk shouted with excitement, genuine and enthusiastic. It would break Hoseok’s heart if he had one. The younger boy reached over and took Hoseok’s hand into his own, the difference of Hoseok’s ice-cold fingers, now burning within the heat of Jeongguk’s was alarming as he steadied his gaze on Jeongguk then.
Yoongi hummed, agreeing with what Jeongguk was saying, “He watches all the weekly music shows. I catch him dancing around the house. He’s good, too, but not as good as you.”
“I’m sure he’s–” Hoseok started saying, making the mistake of finally making eye-contact with Yoongi. It was a fatal error on his part, unprepared for how sharp his features were in person, how beautiful. Yoongi seemed to know as much, smirking at the way Hoseok flushed instantly.
Hoseok withdrew his hand from Jeongguk’s palm; a part of him would have been fine with leaving their fingers intertwined. He merely did it to remove temptation.
“We saw you out there, ‘Hoseokie’. Do you have any idea what you looked like?” Yoongi asked, voice silky and dark with the promise of a compliment, one of which Hoseok wasn’t so sure he was ready for.
He shook his head, teeth drawing over his bottom lip nervously. This was the only moment he would’ve accepted Jimin stepping in to shift the conversation. Of course, now was when he decided to remain quiet, too keen on making Hoseok suffer.
“Like sex,” Yoongi said, to which Jeongguk—precious, sweet, adorable baby bunny—vehemently agreed with. Hoseok was too still, processing the words over and over again. “Even now, drenched in sweat with your blush-colored cheeks and swollen lips… you look rather suggestive. You’re sexy, Hoseok-ah.”
‘Lies,’ Hoseok wanted to retort, but his tongue felt heavy inside his mouth. What would be the point of arguing? He’d only offend them.
“Can… can we dance together, hyung?” Jeongguk was smiling again, broad and toothy. It was the same dangerous smile that made Hoseok want to surrender everything to him, give Jeongguk anything he wanted and more.
Hoseok blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “Right now?”
“Please!” Jeongguk even pressed his hands together in a prayer, his doe-eyes begging. Hoseok could feel Jimin’s amusement from across the table, it was practically oozing from him.
“I’m sure you have a few more songs left in you.” Jimin winked conspiratorially before he downed the rest of his whiskey.
It wasn't a surprise to anyone that Hoseok couldn’t refuse Jeongguk’s request. Besides, there was this oddly warm, satisfied expression on Yoongi’s face when Hoseok stood up from his chair to do exactly what he'd been told. Hoseok reminded himself that he was used to leading in a professional atmosphere and he was certain that he could do it again. This was no different from a session in his studio.
“Show me how to move properly, hyung. It’s okay if the lesson is hands-on,” Jeongguk reassured, the deep bow of his lips distracting Hoseok with every syllable. It was partially because he knew Jeongguk could use his pretty mouth very well.
Hoseok shoved the thought away guiltily, but it was difficult not to think about what Jeongguk looked like on his knees when he was stripped bare and prone to whatever the viewers wanted, depending on how much they paid. Focus.
Jeongguk was taller than Hoseok had anticipated, despite the way he practically dwarfed Yoongi in size. He was as gentle as he was during their cam sessions, though, reaching out to take hold of Hoseok’s arm, his eyes steady and questioning, before his fingertips ever touched his skin. And when Hoseok nodded, he didn’t know that Jeongguk would use his grip to bring Hoseok closer, guiding his hands to Jeongguk’s perfectly squeezable waistline.
It was all Hoseok could do not to leave marks, the thought alone shaking him. Focus. Just as he was about to fall into rhythm, the song came to an end and transitioned into something slow, sensual. “Perfect,” Jeongguk breathed, smiling warmly as he looked down at the way Hoseok was moving, matching his steps with ease. Not that the music called for anything too complicated.
That’s what made it worse.
Like this, they were swaying. Hoseok tried to keep a respectable distance between them, his hands barely touching Jeongguk even though the music called for them to be as close as possible; fluid and lax with each other. Couples around them were free with their bodies, movements suggestive. Jeongguk bit at his lower lip, a soft chuckle leaving him.
“Are you shy? You don’t have to be.” Jeongguk stared up at Hoseok, his eyes wide and glittering, seeming to know everything. “If anything, I should be the shy one here. You’ve seen me…” Jeongguk huffed shakily, as though he were a ball of nervous energy. “Well, you’ve seen me in all sorts of positions.”
Hoseok was never the type to push boundaries, however, this conversation was entering that territory. He could feel it, like stepping into muddy water, feeling it saturate his clothes, steps heavy. They were knee-deep in it when Jeongguk slid his arms around Hoseok’s shoulders, their chests pressed gently together.
He flushed hotly as Jeongguk’s words still rolled around in his head. “Jeongguk-ssi…”
“Hold me for real,” Jeongguk said, his voice going breathy and teasing. “Please, hyung.”
Hoseok was holding him. He dug his fingers into Jeongguk’s waist, the baggy shirt he was wearing riding up. “And dance with me like you mean it. Let’s show Yoongi-hyung how good we look together.” Jeongguk tilted his head towards the table, an impish little smirk pulling against his lips, confirming that Yoongi was already watching them—hunched forward in his chair, skimming his bottom lip with his thumb, engrossed in the scene before him.
He wondered what was running through Yoongi’s mind, a single glance in the other man’s direction giving nothing away. If anything, he seemed deeply interested in Hoseok’s hands grabbing at Jeongguk’s hips, fighting to maintain some semblance of space that threatened to break at any second. Didn’t it hurt seeing them being so intimate? He narrowed his eyes at Yoongi as something dark and freezing cold settled inside him, and he wondered bitterly, shouldn’t it?
The mud reached Hoseok’s stomach, all of his warmest parts rimy and chilled to the bone. He recalled the sick, nauseated feeling of suspicion in the past. Namjoon was late because he was cheating. He’d been cheating for a long, long time by then. Hoseok had ignored the signs even when they were right in front of him. It was like Namjoon didn’t care if Hoseok knew, he’d already made it this far without it being acknowledged.
This was an obvious game between two lovers and like always, Hoseok was a prop for their amusement. Namjoon did it, why not Yoongi and Jeongguk?
Hoseok abruptly jerked Jeongguk forward, a hand moving from the younger boy’s waist to an inch below his lower back, delicate fingers splayed against the denim of Jeongguk’s ass. Put on a show for Yoongi, repay them both. Play their game. At least like this, Hoseok could pretend like he was wanted, even if it wasn’t true. Even after all this time, the scars Namjoon left still burned. Hoseok was cynical now, a bit more daring.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” was the only warning Hoseok gave before he started moving his hips in slow, firm waves against Jeongguk’s front. It was easy, not too intense at first, but Hoseok knew that if he was to become too absorbed there wouldn’t be much resistance. He’d just lose himself again.
Maybe that’s what needed to happen.
He could feel Jeongguk’s breath stutter against his skin, the air between them hot and suffocating. Hoseok avoided staring at Jeongguk’s mouth for too long, knowing how distracting it was. “Ah, I feel naked, hyung,” Jeongguk admitted with a helpless laugh, tightening his arms around Hoseok’s neck. “That’s what it’s like being with you right now.”
Hoseok didn’t ask. He didn’t fucking ask. He didn’t need to feel empowered, confidence tending to melt over whenever he danced and, right now, Jeongguk felt so good against him, rolling his hips with a fair amount of practice that Hoseok didn’t allow himself to decipher. The younger boy must’ve been a quick study, upping the stakes with increments of pressure, like he wanted to be felt, as though he needed the friction, desperate almost.
Hoseok remembered what it’d felt like to be too sensitive, back when he was having sex often enough. How even the slightest touch would make his cock stir, how his body lived and begged for Namjoon’s touch. He imagined that was Jeongguk’s current dilemma when he felt the unmistakable outline of Jeongguk’s cock pressing against him. It’d taken nothing to get Jeongguk to that point. Intimate honesty? A confession? Some light grinding?
“I really didn’t know Jimin was going to invite you,” Hoseok said, trying to keep the tension out of his voice, although he felt it like a hand closing tight around his windpipe. “Again, I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.” It was an awkward statement to be making, especially when the physical proof that Jeongguk was enjoying every moment was digging into his lower stomach.
“God, it’s not, it’s not… it’s just you’re… so hot,” Jeongguk breathed, growing exasperated when he closed his eyes and parted his pretty mouth. Hoseok’s eyes stung with sweat, and he felt his restraint slipping when he sank his fingers into Jeongguk’s jeans, curling them in hard enough to prise a moan from Jeongguk’s lips. There was no more space between them as they ground against each other in tight circles, putting on a show.
Hoseok leaned towards Jeongguk’s pierced ear, their cheeks touching as he spoke hotly, emboldened by how receptive Jeongguk was being, “Would you let any of your fans do this to you, Jeonggukie?”
It took Jeongguk a full twenty seconds to finally respond, unable to keep the tremble out of his voice, “N-No… I’m not…”
“A slut?” Hoseok finished, teeth pressing into metal as he smirked knowingly. There was danger in the idea of believing Jeongguk’s insinuation—believing the idea that Hoseok was special in some way.
“Only when we both agree, do we ever… do this.” Jeongguk sighed shakily, turning towards Hoseok, the tip of his round nose skimming Hoseok's gently. He breathed in softly, inhaling the scent of sweat and detergent. He liked the way Hoseok smelled, even when they were sticking to each other’s skin; melting.
Hoseok grew still, the mud suddenly filling his mouth. He spoke around salt and grime, tongue moving numbly. “Do what?”
“Kiss me.” Jeongguk slid his fingers through damp strands of Hoseok’s hair, fingertips gentle against the sides of his face, guiding Hoseok closer to him. He couldn’t hear the alarms blaring off in Hoseok’s head, didn’t catch the way his grip fell lax, slipping from Jeongguk’s body.
Hoseok was staring past Jeongguk to where Yoongi was still watching them, his eyes sharp as knives, consuming. The past crawled up the back of Hoseok’s spine, haunting him. It reminded him that Jeongguk wasn’t his and that one of the many aspects that he enjoyed about Yoongi and Jeongguk’s dynamic was that they visibly loved each other. They were loyal and secure in their relationship, which was something he’d never been able to achieve.
He refused to be a catalyst.
Hoseok would have to mean something to them in order for that to happen.
It was his own preferences getting in the way. Storming through the door of Namjoon’s office, going against the receptionist’s advisement. Sometimes Hoseok thought he should have listened. He’d stepped into the muddy lake that day, saw Namjoon in a light he’d never seen him before. He’d barely stopped fucking his assistant, a younger boy no older than the one Hoseok was currently tempted to kiss.
It was ‘Join us,’ instead of an, ‘I’m sorry.’ There was no sign of remorse or humiliation. For a moment the room was quiet in Hoseok’s head and he couldn’t stop the memory of himself screaming and screaming and screaming at the center of Namjoon’s office. How he’d picked up the sleek picture frame that showcased them together in Europe from the desk and held one of the sharp corners to Namjoon’s throat like he was going to do something with it.
Staring at Jeongguk, all he saw was Namjoon and all he felt was confusion. He’d always been naïve, running from things he couldn’t process or understand. Now wasn’t any different. He hadn’t moved past the ugliness.
“I’m sorry, but I need to get some air…” Hoseok gently pried Jeongguk’s hands from his skin, eyeing the boy somewhat guiltily, before he glanced over at Jimin. His best friend seemed confused, no longer as smug as he’d been the entire night with his deception. Hoseok shook his head at him, stepping into the crowd, and heading straight for the exit.
The cool air nipped at Hoseok’s sweat slickened skin, and he felt like he was finally able to breathe. He steadily made his way around the building, out of sight from curious eyes as he fought against a flare of anxiety. He thought he’d gotten rid of the worst of it in therapy, that he’d shoved it all away at a far enough distance.
Now his demons were able to call him collect at any given moment. Hoseok flattened his back to the wall behind him. As he fought to regulate his heartbeat, he could hear footsteps approaching, boots scraping against asphalt. He didn’t need nor want a confrontation with Jimin right now. Hoseok reached inside his pocket to retrieve his phone, intending to grab himself a ride through Kakao T.
“So, this is where you ran off to.”
Hoseok shot his head up, seeing the very last person he expected to be standing there, a cigarette dangling from Yoongi’s lips. “You didn’t have to—”
Yoongi paused at that, narrowing his sharp eyes a fraction. “To what? Come outside to have a smoke? It’s sort of the policy.”
“Right, yeah,” Hoseok said, nodding at the logic. There he was, assuming. He gestured for Yoongi to continue with what he was doing, apologizing, “Sorry.”
Quiet, as though considering Hoseok for a moment, Yoongi didn’t stop his eyes from wandering over Hoseok’s tense form, the way he was pressed tightly against the bricks of the club, like he was holding on for dear life. “Are you apologetic often, Hoseok-ssi?”
“My whole life,” he laughed, a wet, pretty sound that snapped Yoongi’s attention to Hoseok’s mouth. Pretty sounds, pretty lips, pretty everything. Hoseok looked over at him when he noticed how quiet Yoongi was, catching the way the older man’s eyes marveled at him, like he was something worth looking over twice.
Hoseok was quick to sober, looking down at his phone, doing his best to break the tension. “I’m thinking of catching a ride home.”
“Why didn’t you kiss Jeongguk?” Yoongi asked, as though Hoseok hadn’t said anything prior. He stepped inside the alleyway, the space between the buildings narrow, not leaving much room between them as Yoongi settled against the opposite wall and took a slow drag of his cigarette, squinting through the smoke as he watched Hoseok, expectant.
Hoseok blinked, not understanding the question. Was it a trick? Was he supposed to have kissed Jeongguk? “He—he’s your boyfriend,” he stammered, feeling the pace of his heartbeat spike. What was this?
“Yes, precisely, and he gets all mopey when he feels rejected. I’m curious, what wasn’t to your liking?” Yoongi said, speaking calmly, as if the question was a rational thing to be asking right now.
“I believe what you meant was, ‘thank you’ for not kissing your boyfriend and now I’ll end this bizarre conversation by saying, ‘you’re welcome’.” Hoseok unlocked his phone, busying himself for Yoongi’s sake. He’d hate to grow more irritable than he already was, anxiety in full-swing. He had the app open, all he had to do was set up his ride.
“Sure, if we weren’t interested and Jeongguk and I didn’t have an understanding, but we both find you attractive, Seok-ah. Naturally what followed next would’ve been a kiss.” Yoongi dabbed the ash from his cigarette, eyes a storm when he looked up at Hoseok, holding him there. “However, it's wrong of me to assume that you’d want this simply because you watch our shows. Seeing you out there with Jeongguk, I thought you were interested as well, but I must’ve seen it wrong.”
Hoseok stood there, silent for the duration that it took Yoongi to finish off his cigarette, unable to stop his mind from reeling at the thought of being wanted not only by Jeongguk, but Yoongi, too. He put away his phone and couldn’t help wondering aloud his own insecurities, “How could you be fine with Jeongguk kissing me?”
“If it’s what we both want, why does it matter?” The question was reasonable, Hoseok once again growing quiet, but it was within those few short seconds that Yoongi seemed to peer right through him, attempting to dissect in the dark. “Are you not into threesomes? Only into one of us? I don’t mind watching you know, but that mouth is… quite lovely.”
Hoseok flushed at that, clearly flustered as he tore his eyes away. “That’s not it.”
“You’re hurting,” Yoongi said, only this time it wasn’t a question. It was a realization. He dropped his cigarette to the cement and put it out under his boot, tongue licking at his bottom lip for the lingering hint of nicotine.
“After this long, I really shouldn’t be.” The words felt, for once, as they should’ve – real, believable as it struck Hoseok. “My ex-fiancé… he had an affair and the question of why is something I’ll never get any answers to, so all it does is make me think. Too much.”
Yoongi leaned forward, the glinting barbell of his tongue piercing catching Hoseok’s attention as he spoke, “Well, he sounds like an idiot.”
“He isn’t, actually. He’s pretty smart.” Which only made matters worse, but Hoseok couldn’t pinpoint why that was attributed to just how devastating it was for him. He enjoyed Namjoon’s genius, it was attractive and intimidating and now it wasn’t his to covet anymore.
Yoongi smirked at him, “But those are two separate things, and I’m telling you, he’s fucking stupid.”
“Why isn’t Jeongguk enough?” Hoseok asked and Yoongi paused at that, contemplating his answer with care. The real question was, in fact, ‘why wasn’t I enough?’
“He’s more than enough. My hands are full every day with that little brat. But then, someone like you will come along,” Yoongi started, eyes burning through Hoseok as he approached, his steps taken at a leisurely pace. It reminded Hoseok of a cat having already secured its prey. “And we wanna play. It isn’t about tiring of one another or cheating. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, we decide together on our conquests.”
Conquests. Hoseok really was a game to them after all.
“Would you reject me if I tried kissing you too?” Yoongi murmured, close enough now that Hoseok could smell the nicotine and whiskey on his breath. “How long has it been for you anyway, Hoseok-ah, mm?”
The last person Hoseok kissed was his fiancé. Two years ago, a peck on the lips. He had no idea he’d go so long without being touched. As it was, he hadn’t been the slightest bit interested in getting off until Yoongi and Jeongguk. He couldn’t even become fully hard whenever he tried to by himself. Now Yoongi was there in his space, offering to give him all that he wanted, so long as Hoseok was alright with being used like a toy for their amusement.
It wasn’t cheating, Hoseok reminded himself. They wanted him. This wasn’t even remotely the same thing that happened to him. No secrets or betrayal. There wasn’t any good reason to deny Yoongi, even if his heart was confused. Namjoon wasn’t coming back. Hoseok didn’t want him to, so why was he still trying to remain loyal? He shouldn’t care and he didn’t want to be confused anymore.
“Years,” Hoseok whispered to Yoongi, like it was something to be ashamed of, the fear of being judged hitched in his voice. It made him feel vulnerable.
“Then allow me to put you out of your misery,” Yoongi said as his dark eyes zeroed in on the pretty little mole at the top of Hoseok’s lip.
Hoseok nodded, lashes falling shut at the first touch of Yoongi’s lips against his own. Soft and rough, chapped from the cold, even as they warmed Hoseok instantly. For a moment, he let himself drown in the sparks from such slight contact. Hoseok shuddered, his body starting to remember what it should be doing as he leaned into Yoongi, who firmly crowded him back onto the surface of the building. The taste of whiskey on his tongue was enough to make Hoseok feel dizzy and starved, like there’d been nothing to sustain him until that very moment.
It was felt in the way Hoseok kissed, how desperate he truly was, sucking air deep inside his lungs each time Yoongi pulled on his top and bottom lip. Hoseok grew frantic the further he fell, his fingers twisted into the front of Yoongi’s sweater for stability. Their breaths were rough between every drag they took off one another, inhaling each other down, down, down. Hoseok’s thoughts were scattered enough that nothing else mattered except for this, and he wanted to stay lost. Yoongi could be a phantom, Jeongguk his mortal anchor to this world, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they haunted Hoseok forever.
Yoongi drew away with a gasp, elation coursing through his veins when he spoke lowly with a hint of something more, something a little bit dark, “This okay, Seok? I just… really wanna keep kissing you.” They stared at each other beneath the pale lights of street lamps, Hoseok’s honeyed skin flushed a pretty pink color, his mouth swollen.
How odd was it, to have someone wanting more of him? Hoseok had convinced himself that he wasn’t desirable. That’d he’d been unworthy of Namjoon’s loyalty and discarded for a reason, but there was Yoongi, cocking his eyebrow and teasing him with a knowing smirk, challenging him.
Hoseok gave his answer when he surged forward, swallowing Yoongi’s chuckle seconds before collision. There was a noticeable hint of control in this kiss, Yoongi persistent when he ran his tongue across Hoseok’s bottom lip, teasing him with the metal ball of his piercing, something Hoseok had always wondered what it would feel like. He parted his lips when Yoongi licked into his mouth; setting the pace and depth, being gentle.
Gentle, because there was silver clacking softly against Hoseok’s teeth, rolling against his tongue, coaxing him to open up a little wider, to be kissed deeper. Hoseok moaned into it, a resounding hum against Yoongi’s lips, yielding wholly to Yoongi’s influence. It was within that moment that Hoseok willed away his reservations, sending the darkness he felt to reside elsewhere. He was too busy being hushed by Yoongi’s fingers curling at the side of his neck, holding Hoseok near while he brushed his thumb against his pulse point.
Surely, Yoongi could feel it.
A hummingbird’s heartbeat can go up to 1,260 beats per minute, so fast—likewise, Hoseok found that his entire body was thrumming from the hard, incessant pounding of his own heart, like at any second it was due to take flight. Hoseok wanted this so badly, he could feel the ache permeating throughout his chest. It’d felt like he was suddenly snapped awake.
They were so far immersed in physical consumption that they didn’t pick up on the footsteps approaching. Jeongguk’s soft, ‘Hyung?’ was like background noise, the sound so pleasant that Hoseok moaned again before he really did wake the fuck up. He pulled back with a gasp, floundering as he retreated, trapped against the building, his head swimming. ‘Oh, no, oh, no,’ Hoseok’s mind whirled.
“Awe,” Jeongguk pouted, eyes dark as he stepped closer. Hoseok could hardly stand it, his body held upright in Yoongi’s arms, sinking further down to hide his face in Yoongi’s shoulder. Jeongguk must be so upset, he must be. The younger boy paused right in front of them. “I wanted to kiss him first.”
What? Hoseok felt his legs grow weak, because even though he already knew this information, he still didn’t know what to do with it, especially when it was so blatantly put out there. Jeongguk was bold off-camera, stating what he wanted perfectly. No demure façades or dress-up, this was real.
“I’m sorry, baby. He was just so tempting,” Yoongi mused, the rumbling of his words radiating through Hoseok, and the statement only made him feel more like a thing than a person. He wished he could hate it, but he could feel how hard he was already, all from a single kiss and an insinuation. He was Yoongi and Jeongguk’s irresistible pet. They wanted him as much as he wanted them.
Hoseok didn’t want to question it, once again shutting his brain off when he looked up at Jeongguk, eyes imploring.
Jeongguk was petulant, still pouting when he asked, “Now you want my kisses, hyung?”
“Don’t be cute,” Hoseok said, the words coming out rough; the sound surprising even to himself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, amused when he pressed between Hoseok’s thighs with a knee, leaning his weight into him.
“But he’s so good at it,” Yoongi murmured quietly as he kissed beneath the prominent line of Hoseok’s jaw. There was a satisfied laugh stuck in Yoongi’s chest, a hot flare of longing when he felt how hard Hoseok was for him. He quietly reveled in the subtle rocking of Hoseok’s hips, in his submission when Yoongi ground against him firmly. He wanted to hear Hoseok say it. “Are you going to be good and let us play with you? Going to let our Jeonggukie taste your mouth, while you fuck mine?”
“Right here?” Hoseok gasped, melting in Yoongi’s hands and drifting away by soft lips and sharp teeth. Yoongi was marking his skin.
“Most of me covers most of you, hyung.” Jeongguk smiled as he slid a hand across Hoseok’s cheek, keeping Hoseok’s face turned towards him. He leaned his side against the building and Hoseok wanted to believe that it would absolutely obscure any passerby from seeing what was about to happen. Jeongguk dropped his thumb to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth, pulling gently. “Can I kiss you, finally?”
Yoongi was quick to follow up, his mouth dragging across Hoseok’s ear, “Can I suck you off, Hoseok-ah?”
Two questions were suddenly two too many, and Hoseok felt like he was tipsy, skin overly warm. He nodded, his eyes staring into Jeongguk’s, voice strained when he begged for it, “Please, I want it…”
“Of course you do, baby. You’ve probably dreamt of exactly this,” Yoongi crooned with another firm press of his knee against Hoseok’s cock.
Hoseok should’ve felt some level of shame moaning as loudly as he was, eagerly confessing to them, “Yes.”
Jeongguk licked his lips, the scent of peaches invading Hoseok’s senses. He could feel Yoongi unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down at the front of his jeans. So much was happening, Hoseok’s mind was being driven into overload until he met the softness of Jeongguk’s mouth, his gloss sticky sweet. He felt and tasted so good, all Hoseok could do was sink against the bricks and let him have his way.
He didn’t have any reason to be careful. Instead, Jeongguk liked using his tongue, forcibly parting Hoseok’s lips and fucking into his mouth. The kiss itself was sloppy, but meticulously so; Jeongguk’s intent prevalent and thorough. Auditory stimulation, the slick sounds of their saliva a form of foreplay.
“You two look so hot together,” Yoongi murmured, still slightly dazed by seeing his boyfriend devour Hoseok in all ways that mattered. He continued with what he was doing as he pushed Hoseok’s shirt up to his chest and paused, taking a moment to fully admire the other man’s build. Hoseok was beautiful, the cool air hitting the dancer’s heated skin, making him shiver. There was a pleasant sigh, followed by Yoongi’s hand trailing down Hoseok’s abdomen, the muscles there defined. “So, you’re gorgeous everywhere, huh, Seok?”
The immediate response to that compliment would’ve been one of denial, if only Hoseok’s mouth wasn’t preoccupied, the words trapped bitterly at the back of his throat. Yoongi hadn’t been looking for an answer anyway, as he got down onto his knees, the gravel dimpling his skin, threatening to cut into his flesh. It was all worth it when he pulled Hoseok’s dick from his briefs.
“So pretty,” he breathed, stroking Hoseok dry into his fist a couple times. The head of Hoseok’s cock was flushed and glistening with precum. He wanted Hoseok wet, needed him dripping with spit, wanted him in shambles. Yoongi watched as Jeongguk drew his hand beneath Hoseok’s shirt, nails lightly scraping over his abdominals, the muscles there tensing with chills.
Years, Hoseok had said, and Yoongi wanted to make it good for him. Hoseok seemed touch-starved, leaning into every caress, hypersensitive—a victim of Jeongguk’s talented mouth. Jeongguk was a virgin when he first met Yoongi, now he was well-practiced, strumming his fingers over Hoseok’s nipple and finding a slow, deep rhythm with his tongue. They both sounded gone, breathing little sighs and moans into each other’s mouths.
Jeongguk pressed himself against Hoseok’s hip, taking whatever small relief he could find when he groaned softly, “Hoseok-hyung tastes so sweet.”
“I know,” Yoongi agreed, licking his lips at the memory of their shared kiss, how easily Hoseok had melted into it, his mouth malleable and so, so good. He was learning that Hoseok was a lot; way more than he’d been expecting.
It wasn’t often that Yoongi felt anything so strongly, outside of his complete adoration and love for Jeongguk. He cared deeply for his friends, however few they were, but there was something in this moment, depravity aside, that made him feel an unsettling amount for someone who might as well be a stranger. Jimin said they would like Hoseok, that they would be charmed, that Hoseok was a fan who was infatuated with them, but it was the other way around; clearly.
Hoseok had them both on an invisible leash, and it was with that thought that Yoongi took Hoseok into his mouth, rolling his piercing over the swell of his cock. The choked sound Hoseok made sent a chill down his spine, Yoongi humming appreciatively at the sensation; the way it sank low into his stomach and tugged. He wanted Hoseok in ways that would undoubtedly require further discussion.
He wanted to take Hoseok home, to their bed, where he could savor it. Right now wasn’t the place, even if they’d temporarily made it so. Yoongi suctioned his mouth tightly and bobbed his head in rhythm with his fist, stroking Hoseok’s cock with an ink-covered hand. He could hear the nearby steps, the conversations happening outside the club. This was relatively risky, even with Jeongguk standing at the perfect angle to conceal most of what was happening.
It wasn’t all that difficult to figure out what they were doing. Not with Hoseok making those noises or rolling his hips, unaware of the fact that he was even doing it. Yoongi drew his hands over the backs of Hoseok’s thighs, kneading him roughly through his jeans, encouraging him to keep thrusting forward, stretching Yoongi’s lips around him tightly.
Yoongi relaxed his throat, taking Hoseok as far as the very base of his cock, Yoongi’s nose pressed to Hoseok’s pubic bone and he held it there just to prove how good he could be, which was ridiculous if this was only meant to be a hook-up. He choked, saliva filling his mouth as he pulled off with a gasp. Yoongi hadn’t been expecting Hoseok to slip his pretty fingers through his hair, to grip him so roughly by the roots. Even if he’d invited Hoseok to fuck his mouth, Hoseok had kept his hands to himself until now.
“Fuck, Hoseok, take whatever you want…” Yoongi drew in a breath before he was forced back down onto Hoseok’s dick, the sounds slick and messy as he hit the back of Yoongi’s throat each time. Taking, taking, taking. Hoseok trembled, cursing low as he broke free from his kiss to stare dazedly down at Yoongi, who was looking directly at him, dark eyes cutting him through.
Jeongguk kissed the side of Hoseok’s neck, teasing him with filth, “Isn’t our hyung so pretty with a mouthful of cock?”
Hoseok was gorgeously affected from just watching Yoongi, his moans loud without Jeongguk’s lips to muffle them. “He is very pretty...his mouth is so… so good. I’m gonna cum soon…” Hoseok warned with a shudder, a burst of air having been expelled from his lungs. He loosened his grip on Yoongi’s hair, giving him the option of veering back.
“M-Me too, hyung.” Jeongguk shook—nuzzling softly into Hoseok’s neck where he inhaled the heady mixture of sweat and detergent; Hoseok’s musk going straight to his head. He could feel Hoseok’s hand moving between their bodies, palming firmly at the prominent outline of Jeongguk’s dick, eliciting a cry from the younger boy.
Even while on the brink of his own release, Hoseok focused on Jeongguk. He’d watched these two for months, admired and felt for them. It didn’t even seem real that this was happening, the least he could do was get Jeongguk off—precious bunny—whiney and filthy. They both were. Hoseok swallowed thickly as he leaned into the feel of Jeongguk’s lips against his skin.
“Wait…wait,” Hoseok started, eyes falling to where Yoongi was rolling his fist around Hoseok’s cock, the swollen tip resting heavily against his pierced tongue. He made a show of flicking his barbell over Hoseok’s slit, moaning for it. He could tell from the heated expression on Yoongi’s face, so hungry, that he wanted to swallow Hoseok whole. He wanted Hoseok to cum inside his mouth.
“Our hyungie is a cumslut,” Jeongguk husked, the sound rolling into the pit of Hoseok’s stomach. He already knew this information in the back of his head. Yoongi liked sucking dick, he enjoyed playing with Jeongguk’s cum. He often showed the camera his tongue, let the mess drip into his hands before he’d lap it up again. Never wasteful. A… fucking cumslut.
It was humiliating and hot, but too fucking much as Hoseok turned towards Jeongguk’s mouth at the last second, whimpering desperately when he felt himself starting to come. Jeongguk pressed into him, licking past his lips. He sucked on Hoseok’s tongue and stuttered into Hoseok’s palm. Jeongguk was undone just as swiftly, trembling as their mouths parted with airy sighs and soft moans.
Jeongguk couldn’t get enough, breathing Hoseok in through his orgasm. He wondered if it was the same for Yoongi, if he’d felt the same connection with Hoseok after one encounter. The question melted away when Hoseok nipped at his bottom lip, the kiss rough but slow. Distantly, Jeongguk could hear a zipper being tugged, the clanking of a metal belt buckle. Yoongi had sucked Hoseok clean, before tucking his dick back inside his pants.
With Hoseok still thick and heavy on his tongue, Yoongi stood, combing his fingers through Jeongguk and Hoseok’s hair and gripped tight at the roots, drawing them down into a kiss. It was painfully controlled, Yoongi taking his time teasing and licking inside their mouths, sharing Hoseok’s cum. The surprised noise that came from Hoseok at the realization only made Yoongi grow more aggressive about making him taste it.
Or maybe Yoongi was desperate? Desperate for Hoseok and Jeongguk, could feel and sense it as their mouths connected at the tip of his tongue, sucking against him, falling deeper. The kiss was slick and hot, drinking each other down at the same time. It was metal and grenadine, peach gloss and alcohol and they were a complete mess. Yoongi stoked the fire, set Hoseok’s body into flames just so he could inhale the fumes. He dragged the smoke inside his lungs and held it in like it was his precious nicotine.
Jeongguk needed to say it, needed to make sure they were all on the same page as he pulled away with a gasp. His blood was buzzing when he stared at Hoseok, “You should come home with us.” It came out without a second thought, natural and with no objection from Yoongi. Jeongguk’s eyes dropped to where Hoseok’s mouth was parted for air, trembling wordlessly and looking thoroughly used. “That way we can take care of Yoongi-hyung, and you too. You’re... sensitive. And fun,” Jeongguk laughed, trying not to feel so vulnerable, but he couldn’t help it, not when Hoseok was being so quiet.
Yoongi gently released them from his grip, the look on his face one that Hoseok had seen plenty of times before, usually when he was seconds away from wrecking Jeongguk. But Yoongi’s eyes were focused on Hoseok now, his tongue wetting his soft, kittenish lips, his voice raw from sucking Hoseok off, “Do you want to?”
“What? Be played with some more?” Hoseok asked bitterly, lowering his gaze to the ground. He remembered his place, that he’d only been a toy for them, which he’d wanted, and it’d been fine. It was fine, until it wasn’t. Hoseok really liked Yoongi and Jeongguk, he’d invested in them financially and emotionally, but they’d already crossed so many lines that could potentially put a stop to everything he enjoyed about it.
Their cam sessions were the only time he ever got off, and—despite the fact that he’d gotten so hard from Jeongguk and he’d come so easily for Yoongi tonight, in person and not behind a screen—it was hard to let go. It was hard to accept that his body wasn’t as broken as he’d thought, that it was just stubborn and selective. He didn’t have any prior experience, aside from Namjoon, so how would he have known? There was a lot he didn’t know about himself.
Hoseok was starting to wake up with a sickly, unpleasant feeling. They could have him however they wanted him, fuck him to the point of forgetting his favorite color and then leave him and carry on just fine without him. But Hoseok wasn’t so confident that he could do the same—no—he was certain that he couldn’t. He understood that he wasn’t the type to do that. He enjoyed having a connection; being loved. He’d only ever dreamed of having what Yoongi and Jeongguk have, and it was still what he wanted for himself.
“We don’t…” Jeongguk paused to look over at Yoongi for a moment. Hoseok wondered what it was like to be so intuned with someone that a single glance was all each other needed to say anything. Hoseok never had that. Even at their best, Namjoon and his relationship never reached that level of intimacy. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, hyung. We could just chat if you’d like?”
“We’re chatting right now, so I don’t really see the point,” Hoseok said dismissively, and he winced because he didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. Sabotage was commonplace for him.
“Well, the point is that it’d be really nice to get to know you better. I mean, I did just swallow most of your cum,” Yoongi said, making an effort to keep the conversation lighthearted. Hoseok was worried that his panic was becoming obvious now, like Yoongi was being careful on purpose.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thank you or, I guess, no thank you,” Hoseok stammered as he moved away from the wall, awkwardly maneuvering himself until there was adequate space between them. He would be able to escape, which was precisely what he wanted to do, especially with Jeongguk standing there, looking lost and saddened by Hoseok’s decision not to leave with them. The fact that he adored Jeongguk only made things more difficult.
He dared to look over at Yoongi, realizing that he’d made a mistake. The expression on Yoongi’s face was terrifying, his dark eyes narrowed, sending a cold chill down Hoseok’s spine. Despite this, Yoongi put his manners before his own emotions. “Could we... at least take you back to your place?”
Hoseok started backing away, sensing the danger in trusting them, not even trusting himself not to give in. “No.”
“How about your number, hyung? To make sure you get home safely?” Jeongguk asked, his voice no longer warm or soft. His gaze was just as dark as Yoongi’s, just as visibly hurt, and Hoseok felt sorry, but he couldn’t prevent the overwhelming urgency for him to leave from taking over.
“No.” Hoseok hated this, he hated this.
Yoongi stepped forward with a start, unwilling to drop it. “Take ours, at least, in case you change your mind.”
Hoseok was quick to throw up a hand, needing him to stop. He couldn’t tolerate Yoongi taking another step. “I said, ‘no’. Fuck. This isn’t a game to me, and I’m not okay with this.”
“Hoseok, we aren’t playing,” Yoongi said, his tone serious, eyes still sharp as blades; intense and genuine. At least he wasn’t stepping forward anymore, because Hoseok knew he wouldn’t be able to fight it; the pull between them. It crackled away at the envy and admiration and left Hoseok with something real. Something that might work if he’d give it a chance, even if it was temporary.
“The fuck you’re not!” Hoseok was yelling now, the anger surging through him as his anxiety spiked. “It’s all you two keep fucking saying. You think I’m naive enough to think you’ll take me seriously, after what? One make out session and a blowjob?” He’d lost momentum when he noticed the pinkish tint of Jeongguk’s nose, the familiar hue around his eyes, the telltale sign of tears. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Yoongi tried, for what seemed like one last time, his tone hushed, “Hoseok-ah, wait…”
Hoseok was already walking away, his steps brisk as he made his way back inside the club. He felt safer amongst the crowd and with the music pounding at the same pace as his heart. It helped distract him from how erratic it was; how panicked.
It helped mask the sounds of turbulence going off in his head.
TBC