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"hyung, i can’t sleep”, hoseok confesses. he’s on his stomach and the bed touches every soft and hard part of him. the pillowcase gets caught and wet by the open corner of his lips when he speaks.
yoongi is on his back, his spine in a straight line, all of his limbs pliant and sinking the mattress in uneven dips. the moon is a proof of the night when the glitter of it shatters against his lashes, grainy silver trickling down his cheeks. his eyes are closed but his exhales are like a pathway, one that hoseok can recognize by his lungs alone— and he chases it to confirm that, at the pinnacle, they’re two bodies awake together.
"are you even trying?" yoongi murmurs. his tongue sounds loose, sleep-drunk, damp.
it hasn’t been long since they turned off the lights, the comforter is still mostly cool, pinching hoseok’s skin pleasantly. he presses himself down on it, not properly ashamed but still warming from the inside at being read like that, without as much as a glance. it’s a heady clash of sensations.
yoongi only breathes.
"you could help me, hyung.” hoseok is not good at asking or demanding for some of the things he wants and he wouldn’t need to try if yoongi just let himself look— but if tonight it’s on hoseok to start measuring the gap between them, he’ll do it. he shifts, drags his hips to the side, his cock aches nicely from the pressure and the rough texture of his underwear. the distance shrinks. yoongi smells like cedarwood soap, apples and pink pepper. his mouth is curved gently; hoseok wants it to bend. “be sweet to me? put me to sleep, please?”
although yoongi’s gaze runs too nimbly from hoseok’s eyes to his mouth, they settle somewhere around the bare stretch of his sternum when he says “you’re not fair”. he turns on his side, the jostling almost hides how his chest hitches.
there are tacit ways in which they move closer when they’re not close.
hoseok skims a hand over the sheets and the noise of it rings like restlessness, unruly desire moving water-like under the guise of a bridge— an open palm; yoongi hooks a foot behind his thighs and pulls hoseok in, chases his earlobe with the tips of two fingers, rubs it gingerly, redefines distance. closer.
“stay up a little longer for me, hyung." hoseok’s words are half-throated, there’s no need for more when the space is lessening.
he lets that hand cling to yoongi's ribs, pleadingly, brain tingling with a red rush of pulse. he stares and stares too much: yoongi is ghostly under the confusion of darkness and moonlight; his hair falls in oil spills, all black over his forehead, his nape, behind his ears. his eyes are like a brand on hoseok’s collarbones, his touch is still soothing. he’s unearthly pretty.
“stop looking at me like that, seok-ah.” yoongi curves towards hoseok’s shoulder, play-biting him. hoseok blinks awake.
“like what?”
“like you want me to bend you over the foot of the bed.”
hoseok groans and pushes him away.
“you’re a meanie. why say it like that, it’s so vulgar, hyung.” they were having a moment and now he’s mortified, wants to hide under the covers. yoongi laughs, so satisfied with himself.
“sorry, baby, i’m sorry”, he’s pawing at hoseok, trying to appease. he succeeds in getting hoseok to release his grip on the duvet, it’s unfair that he’s that much stronger. “how am i supposed to say it?”
“you’re not.” yoongi is smiling down at him tenderly, endeared to see a petulant pout.
“it’s not true, then?” that smile pulls a one-eighty, yoongi is grinning now, his voice is laced with amusement. “you’re gonna tell me that wouldn’t put you to sleep?”
hoseok’s heart crawls up to his skull when he thinks about it. if they were having this conversation standing up, hoseok would’ve been on the floor already. willingly, yes, if that was the mood they were in, but more because yoongi has that effect on him, knows how to chew the words to make hoseok weak, to make his knees buckle underneath him.
yoongi drops it, saves hoseok from the embarrassment of trying to come up with an answer.
“come here. you’re too far from me.” he’s not but it’s that easy. hoseok wordlessly tips his head up and kisses him.
despite stubborn thoughts of fucking on the floor, scraped knees and carpet burns, it’s just a glide of lips at first, chaste and tentative. unhurried warmth. hoseok brings his arms around yoongi’s back, presses himself flush everywhere and flattens his hand on the back of his neck to keep him there. yoongi doesn’t try to go anywhere for a moment, just hugs hoseok’s waist and squeezes. he hums like it’s good for him, the walls of his windpipes buzz under hoseok’s finger— but he opens his mouth a little, sucks on the seam of hoseok’s lips and then it’s a summer night, a balmy dream. yoongi always tastes like something impossible to want to rise from. the supple inside of his cheeks is as saccharine as his gums. hoseok feels small and molten in his own bones, yoongi crowds him in so well: immovable on top of him, passive and unstoppable, sweetness and teeth.
too soon, their lungs are swelling harshly and the roof of hoseok’s mouth feels like a well, drool-dripping. they pull apart to breathe but keep seeking each other, hands clumsy but practiced, urgency and need like a constricting vice and an old language at the same time. yoongi nips at hoseok’s jaw and brushes his hands up his stomach to thumb at his nipples. hoseok unravels under the sharp attention and lets himself gasp freely, yoongi draws his own pleasure out of knowing he’s good like that.
“i’m gonna take your clothes off, ‘kay?”
hoseok is tipping to the south side of clarity so instead of responding he can only nod and slump against the bed. he’s not wearing a shirt but he puts his arms on either side of his head, clutches the headboard with both hands. yoongi watches for as long as he wants, as long as it takes to get hoseok squirming, and only complies when he senses hoseok is about to complain. everything deteriorates when yoongi mouths his way down hoseok’s solar plexus, licks below his navel, rubs the heel of his hand between hoseok's legs. the tail-end of hoseok’s hiss turns into a whine. his eyes flutter closed in relief, he can see too much even in the dark, his pupils are over-dilated.
pajama shorts and boxers gone, yoongi doesn’t wait to get him wet. he holds the base of hoseok’s cock and licks the slit.
“pull my hair, seok-ah”, he says, affected and rushed, then sinks down.
his mouth is warm and perfect, tight like it's made for this, hoseok’s own dries up when he looks down. he wants to do what he was told to but he ends up just cradling yoongi’s head. his temples are soft, his eyelids delicate. he’s sliding up and down, cupping hoseok’s balls, bruising his ass purple with a grip that he uses to slide hoseok’s dick on his tongue. it’s maddeningly good. hoseok feels his tummy go numb from it.
hoseok talks when his head fills with dull, noiseless static. “prettiest mouth i’ve ever had, hyung.” he puts his finger on it, traces how wide it is stretched around him. he’s deep inside his throat, yoongi allows him in. “prettiest everything.”
yoongi sucks him off until they’re both winded.
“you wanna come like this, baby?” he’s caressing the inside of hoseok’s thighs, it’s meant to be calming in case they want to go for longer.
hoseok blushes, shakes his head. he eyes the strain in yoongi’s sweats and spreads his legs, craving, bashfully inviting. yoongi curses and falls on top of him, misses his mouth by a mile but neither of them care, as long as there’s no space in-between. as long as they keep getting closer.
yoongi undresses hastily and checks on him again.
“want it raw?” his voice sounds good on the hollow of hoseok’s neck.
hoseok nods, urges “just touch me already.”
yoongi does, only to notice hoseok’s rim slicked and loosened open. he hiccups, presses on hoseok's perineum, makes him keen. yoongi's a tease, that's why it took him so long to find out.
“f-fuck. you really came to bed to get fucked.”
hoseok feels heat coil blindingly white in him. “stop talking like that.”
"where's the lube?" he's searching the bed with his hands, mouth too occupied kissing hoseok and panting. he hasn't even been touched but hoseok does that to him, gets him going without a finger. he finds the bottle on the nightstand and coats himself, doesn't leave hoseok's skin for a second. "ask for it?"
hoseok feels the blunt of yoongi's cockhead on his hole and it drives him right past inhibitions, straight to feverishly begging. he’s as good as he wants to be. “f-fuck me inside, hyung, can you fuck me—”
they’re chest to breathless chest, yoongi pushes in and all the lingering air is punched out of them in choked up moans. hoseok locks his ankles on yoongi’s lower back and rushes him into moving, he doesn’t want time to adjust.
and maybe he said that out loud, he’s lightheaded enough to forget his own tongue; maybe yoongi knows him too well because he repeats himself, says “ask for it, seok-ah, come on.”
they’re closer already, so he wants deeper, so he asks for it. as good as he wants to be.
yoongi bears his weight down on the mattress, eases out in one long, slow drag only to swiftly bury himself inside. hoseok scrambles, suffocated down to his belly, small and crowded in. it’s always a full fit and yoongi only gives him a moment to breathe when he’s grinding down on hoseok’s prostate, which translates to no moment to breathe at all.
the wind picking up outside the window rattles the glass of it but never reaches the huddle of their bodies, they’re sweating, glued together. it's fine, it's was what hoseok wanted from the beginning: his cock rubbing on yoongi’s stomach, the flesh of his ass reddening from taking it, yoongi grunting in every thrust, every clench.
oil spills and tear tracks, meeting to unmeet, over and over again.
hoseok's body is tenderness-torn too, he can’t help it so he never tries. he scratches his nails down yoongi’s sides, asks who yoongi is fucking, selfishly wants to leave a mark and to hear his name tumbling of out yoongi, desperate like a confession. hoseok wants it a lot, this kind of contact that grows by repeating itself.
hands after hands inside hands. you have touched me like this, touch me again and more.
yoongi knows when to wrap his fingers around hoseok’s dick, knows how quick to jerk him off. hoseok is loud, he falls from grace when he comes. yoongi kisses him, swallows the screams and the residual whimpering, and that’s something he knows too, how to kindly drown out all that consciousness.
yoongi keeps the kisses coming, the telltale that he's on the edge. his lips stick to the salt of hoseok’s chin, cheekbone, the side of his nose. he’s a silent fuck but he says sorry when he takes too long to follow hoseok, asks if it hurts, if hoseok wants him to pull out. hoseok never does, he wants him always, abjectly, feels grounded by the blanket of him. cedarwood soap, apples and pink pepper.
yoongi’s fingers are wound taut in hoseok’s scalp when he comes. they fucked almost dry and the aftermath is a sticky mess. yoongi sits back and stares at his cum starting to dribble out.
“d-don’t leave.” hoseok's still hiccuping, his face must be messed up. he regrets not asking for a condom, he hates getting up to shower when he’s this boneless, lineless, floating.
“i need to clean us up, seok-ah.” his breath is unsteady, he’s low-lidded like hoseok worn him out. his hands are clutching hoseok's, he brings one of them up to the kiss of his lips. loving, caring.
“d-don’t, hyung. we’re gonna ruin the sheets.”
“shit happens. i’m gonna fall asleep on top of you or fuck you again, we can’t stay like this, baby.”
hoseok fastens his calves behind yoongi’s knees, makes him fall forward with a yelp. closer again.
“fuck me again, then.”
“can’t. you wanted me to put you to sleep.” he really thinks he's funny. hoseok giggles, betrayed.
“falls asleep on top of me, then.”
“i’m really gonna. please be reasonable.” his tone is no nonsense, but he’s drawing circles on hoseok’s hip bones.
he snugs closer, gets comfortable like hoseok already decided on what to do. hoseok didn’t, doesn’t get the time to before passing out too, but yoongi’s giving him what he wants like this. yoongi also gives him what he wants in the morning, tugging and stroking and licking hoseok just awake enough to start over.