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Namjoon is trying to be quiet. He opens the door carefully, slipping inside the apartment and closing the door softly behind him. Stepping out of his shoes, Namjoon moves down the hallway on socked feet. If he’s lucky, his roommate will already be asleep and Namjoon won’t have to talk about his night. If he’s lucky, he won’t have to recount the details and -
“Hey.”
Freezing midstep, Namjoon looks up. Yoongi is on the couch with his Switch, a fuzzy blanket around his shoulders. Not asleep. He’s smiling, though it slips when he sees Namjoon’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks, lowering his video game console. “Did something happen? Did it not go well?”
With a sigh, Namjoon deflates, slumping a little where he stands. “Not really.”
Yoongi makes a sympathetic noise and pats the couch cushion beside him. “Come here.”
As much as Namjoon was hoping to not talk about tonight, he finds himself doing as Yoongi says. Maybe it would be better to just get it out, even if he doesn’t really want to relive it. So Namjoon slumps onto the couch, melting back into the cushions as Yoongi saves his video game. “You can keep playing.”
“It’s fine,” Yoongi says gently. The Animal Crossing loading screen flashes across the screen before Yoongi locks it, the console going dark. “Do you want to tell hyung what happened?”
And Yoongi is so nice and sweet and kind, just like he always is, that Namjoon can’t help but spill.
“It wasn’t a good date,” he admits. “I didn’t feel like… a spark, you know? Or a connection?” Yoongi hums in understanding and Namjoon goes on. “I felt awkward the whole time. The guy was okay, but I just felt so weird. I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hands or what to say. Everything felt forced and I felt like I was doing weird things with my face and -” Namjoon cuts himself off, realizing he’s rambling. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Yoongi insists, eyes soft with sympathy. “This is new for you.”
“I’ve gone on dates before, hyung,” Namjoon huffs.
“Yes,” Yoongi agrees, gently patting Namjoon’s thigh. “But…”
He doesn’t have to finish the thought, doesn’t have to say it. Because Namjoon knows.
But those were girls.
And Yoongi’s not wrong. He’s definitely right. But Namjoon didn’t think it would be so different. Or maybe he did, and that’s the problem.
“Maybe I’m not really bi,” Namjoon blurts.
Yoongi is quiet for a moment, considering Namjoon’s statement. “Do you really think you feel that way?”
“No,” Namjoon mutters. “I just - it felt weird.”
With another sigh, Namjoon lets himself collapse to the side. He slumps over onto the couch, laying his head in Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi clicks his tongue, but doesn’t try to actually stop him. Despite his feigned annoyance, one of Yoongi’s hands immediately moves to Namjoon’s hair, stroking his bangs off his forehead.
“It sounds like the two of you just weren’t a match,” Yoongi says calmly. “And that’s okay. Not everyone will be.”
“But what if no one is a match?” Namjoon feels ridiculous, voicing this insecurity out loud, but he knows Yoongi won’t judge him. At least not too hard. “What if I’m undateable? What if men don’t like me or -” Namjoon cuts off when Yoongi’s finger taps against his forehead.
“You’re overthinking with that big brain again, Joon-ah,” Yoongi scolds lightly. “None of that is true, you have to give it time. Did you connect with every girl you went on a date with?”
“No,” Namjoon admits sullenly.
Yoongi resumes petting his hair, long fingers carding through the strands. “Exactly. And this was only your first date with another man. I know you were nervous, but next time it’ll feel easier.”
“What if there’s no next time?” And again, Namjoon feels silly asking. Half a joke, but half serious. Because maybe he is nervous about that.
“There will be,” Yoongi insists. “If you want there to be. And if not, hyung will buy you ice cream.”
Namjoon smiles despite himself, curling up further against the back of the couch. Yoongi’s thighs, encased in soft sweatpants, are warm against his cheek. A little bony, but comfortable and Namjoon feels himself relaxing as Yoongi keeps petting his hair.
“Maybe that guy just wasn’t your type, Namjoon,” Yoongi says after a few moments of quiet,
That could be true. Namjoon hums, considering it. The guy was cute, but he wasn’t exactly what Namjoon thinks he’s looking for. Though he’s not entirely sure what that is, not sure about his type, or quite how to figure it out. “Thanks, hyung.”
“Of course,” Yoongi says. “I’m here to guide you on your baby bi journey. I’m like your spiritual guide.”
Namjoon snorts, tilting his head to be able to see Yoongi’s face, the fond smile curling his lips. “To what?”
“The prostate, obviously.”
And Namjoon can’t help the laugh that spills out of him. He curls a little closer to Yoongi, wrapping a hand around Yoongi’s knee. It’s nice, Namjoon shouldn’t have been trying to avoid him. Of course Yoongi would help, would know what to say. Yoongi is pan and proud, openly queer and more than happy to guide and help Namjoon with anything. Namjoon just feels a little like an idiot.
Settling more comfortably on Yoongi’s lap, Namjoon lets the awkwardness of the evening slip away. “What were you doing in your game?”
Yoongi shifts slightly, picking up his Switch. “I just gave Cookie a cute new sweater. Do you want to see?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “But keep petting my hair?”
“Harder to play with one hand,” Yoongi grumbles. But doesn't stop running his fingers through Namjoon’s hair. His nails scratch lightly at his scalp.
“I’m so glad you don’t bite your nails anymore.”
“Why?” Yoongi asks. “So I can scratch your head?”
“And my back.”
Yoongi pinches him then, scoffing quietly. But Namjoon doesn’t mind. He already feels better.
---
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to show off the new outfits his villagers are wearing and then decide to go to bed. Namjoon is pretty sure Yoongi only stayed up and out in the living room because he was waiting up for Namjoon to get home. Sweet, in a way, but Yoongi’s always like that. A good hyung. Namjoon is lucky to have good hyungs in his life.
It’s been a weird road to get here. And by here, Namjoon means being open about his bisexuality, with himself and his friends. Namjoon has gone through a sort of strange period of self-discovery, a metamorphosis if you ask Taehyung. Namjoon tries not to ask Taehyung.
Honestly, Namjoon thinks he’s always known he wasn’t really straight, and it never bothered him. He wasn’t afraid, and no one he knew was homophobic. But… he just never did anything about it.
Namjoon dated girls, and he fucked girls. And sometimes he looked at guys, appreciated they were attractive, that he found them attractive. But that was it. Until he started having sex dreams about guys. Slim, pretty ones. Slight and petite, but masculine. Always the knowledge that they were men. Faceless pretty boys with breathy moans and perky asses.
Once those dreams started, Namjoon couldn’t really ignore it as easily.
It took him getting drunk to really do anything, or say anything. It felt kind of weird in his chest, this thing he was carrying that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with. Not necessarily a heavy or uncomfortable thing, but just… a thing. So getting drunk with Seokjin, the two of them having dinner and talking over BBQ and soju, was apparently what he needed.
Seokjin was gesturing across the table, asking Namjoon to pass the pickled radish, when Namjoon’s tongue seemed to loosen in his mouth and he just… blurted it out.
“I’m bi.”
And Seokjin stared at him, hand still outstretched for the side dish. “Well so am I,” Seokjin said finally. “But I’m not hogging all the radish because of it.”
Sheepishly, Namjoon passed over the radish and Seokjin went back to grilling the meat. A few moments later, Seokjin piled the best pieces of galbi on his plate and quietly told Namjoon he was proud of him.
The next morning, Namjoon woke up to his door opening. He groaned quietly, hangover fuzzy, as Yoongi stepped into his room and sat on the edge of his bed. Like the angel he was, he was carrying a bottle of water and a container of painkillers in one hand. With his other hand, he patted Namjoon’s leg through his blankets.
“So, you’re bi?”
Namjoon groaned again, turning his face into his pillow to try to smother himself. “Did hyung text you?”
“He did.” Yoongi passed Namjoon the water and Namjoon reluctantly sat up, cracking the bottle. “Well, first he texted me to tell me about how you hogged all the radish from him. I’m supposed to scold you about that so pretend I did.” A small smile played around the corners of Yoongi’s mouth but he looked serious too as he studied Namjoon’s face. “Seokjin hyung seemed to think you might want someone to talk to. You okay?”
“I’m okay,” Namjoon confirmed, nodding slowly and taking a sip of the water. “I’m not like… freaked out or anything. I just kind of felt ready, I guess?”
Yoongi nodded along, passing him the painkillers. “Interesting way to go about coming out.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon agreed, ducking his head slightly. “Not ideal.”
“But that’s okay. Hyungs are proud of you and we love you,” Yoongi says firmly. And hearing that kind of affection so openly had something warm blooming in Namjoon’s belly. “I’m always here if you want to talk, okay?”
As embarrassed as Namjoon was about the whole situation, he appreciated it. And he’s taken Yoongi up on it a few times, like tonight. It’s nice to have his best friend to talk to, nice to have someone who understands. Especially when said best friend won’t judge him (at least not too harshly), and will pet Namjoon’s hair while he talks.
And maybe Yoongi is right. He usually is, loathe as Namjoon is to admit it. Or, well, he always seems to think he’s right. King of bullshitting, always with a straight face. But Yoongi doesn’t bullshit about stuff like this, not when it matters.
So maybe, probably, Yoongi’s right about this too. Namjoon and the guy didn’t connect. They met on a dating app and Namjoon kind of just talked to the first person he matched with, accepted a date and - yeah. Maybe it wasn’t the right way to go about things.
Not the right way at all, because Namjoon didn’t feel a spark. And the guy really wasn’t Namjoon’s type at all. Handsome, definitely, tall and broad with a nice smile. Which is cool, but…
But not the guy from Namjoon’s dreams. Not a slim, faceless pretty boy from Namjoon’s subconscious fantasies. Namjoon likes the broadness, wide shoulders and chest, big hands. But petite at the same time, thin legs and compact waists. Shorter than Namjoon. And pretty.
He’s always liked pretty.
As Namjoon turns off his light and flops into bed, he lets his eyes slip closed. His mind wanders as he falls asleep, moving away from the unsatisfying date to something more ideal. Small but strong, pretty. As the fog of sleep washes over him, Namjoon’s mind replaces the faceless man in his bed with someone else, someone he knows all too well.
---
Dating apps, Namjoon is convinced, are some kind of social experiment set up as a form of torture. Honestly, he’s never really had luck on them. When he was just looking for women, he went on a few dates, had a couple of hookups, but never found anything long term. No one on these apps is ever telling the truth, and it all seems disingenuous.
Namjoon wishes he could just easily meet someone in real life, but it’s hard. Especially now when everything seems to be online or through apps. And meeting men, picking up men, is something Namjoon wouldn’t even know how to start doing. Is it like picking up a girl in a bar or a club? Maybe? Probably? Namjoon is a little too nervous to ask.
So he tries the apps. But the ones just for men seem even worse. He’s lucky if he even sees a picture of a guy’s face when he swipes through potential matches. Lots of ab shots and dicks in various horrible shades of lighting. Yes, Namjoon likes dicks, even though he’s never touched any except his own. But these ones are an absolute turn off.
And tonight, swiping through potential dates and matches is no different. Namjoon’s not just looking for a hookup, and a lot of these guys, especially without the face pics, definitely are. He needs to ease into this, go on a date or a few, figure out what he’s really looking for. The few guys he’s matched with tonight definitely aren’t it.
Maybe he’s being too picky. But between the guys asking weird questions and the ones clearly just wanting to sext or hookup, he’s having a hard time finding someone he can have a conversation with. Groaning in frustration, Namjoon drops his phone onto his bed and sinks into his pillows.
“Yah!” Yoongi calls through their shared wall from his own bedroom. Namjoon hears the thunk of Yoongi’s fist through the plaster. “Quit jerking off so loudly, you pervert.”
And Namjoon isn’t jerking off, but… well, that’s an idea of something to do.
---
Namjoon has always been a very sex positive person. And by sex positive, he means horny at the drop of a hat. A strong wind could probably give him a half chub if he was in basketball shorts. Some days, he thinks he could probably get off from a paper bag crinkling. He’s not a complicated guy, it doesn’t take much to get him going and get him to the finish line. And with this sex positive and adventurous attitude, porn has always been an easy go to.
But tonight, porn isn’t working.
Namjoon tries all his normal websites, all the usual haunts for explicit videos. He even uses private browsing to search for some keywords, though the results aren’t promising at all. And despite the private browser, he’s sure this is saved somewhere.
There are thousands of videos out there, and Namjoon thinks he goes through every kind. Amateur and professional, ones with long, drawn out stories and ones that go right into the action. Cam shows and pretend hidden camera, men, women, and all sorts of pairings and threesomes.
But nothing seems to do it. He’s distracted, maybe, and none of the people on screen are exactly what he wants.
So Namjoon decides to make an insane decision. Namjoon will ask his friends for recommendations. For porn. He blames blue balls, but he can deal with the weird ramifications of this request later. After an orgasm or two.
---
Texting his friends and asking for their favorite porn videos is probably weird. Probably against some sort of friendship boundaries. And, really, it’s not that helpful.
Hoseok sends him a strange mixture of things. Some really vanilla porn with long, drawn out, plots that seem more like movies. And then, tacked on, some hardcore bondage videos that Namjoon is, honestly, a little surprised to get from Hoseok. Kind of makes him wish he didn’t ask, now that he’s seeing a new side of his friend.
None of it is really to Namjoon’s taste, though the guys are hot enough.
Seokjin is even less helpful, calling Namjoon weird and telling him off. Leave me alone, Seokjin texts back, with a few thumbs down emojis. This is sexual harassment.
Namjoon doesn’t push that one.
When Jimin responds, he basically gives Namjoon a quiz on his preferences. And Namjoon is sex positive, he said that, he’s into all sorts of things. But he doesn’t usually have to share these things with his friends. So telling Park Jimin his sex video preferences feels a little weird and embarrassing.
But Jimin is strangely professional about it, sending along a few videos, making some website recommendations. Namjoon saves most of them for later. They’re okay, not great, but better than before. He could probably get off to a few, maybe. But none of those feel right tonight.
There’s no response from Taehyung, but Jungkook ends up sending a link for what appears to be gay fanfiction for an anime series. Namjoon scans the summary and the list of tags describing the work and is confused because… it seems like they might be… werewolves? He sees the tag for knotting and immediately closes the page.
With four friends down and Taehyung radio silent, Namjoon has one person left to ask. He hadn’t texted Yoongi, thinking it might be weird, especially since they live together. But, well… Yoongi’s just in the room next door, and Namjoon is starting to think something might be wrong with his dick.
Pushing himself out of bed, Namjoon makes sure he’s decent and then leaves his room, moving the few steps down the hall to Yoongi’s door. Lifting his fist, he knocks against the wood.
“Come in.”
Namjoon pushes the door open and hovers there in the doorway, eyes widening when he takes in Yoongi in front of him. He’s in a t-shirt and shorts. Short shorts, ending halfway down his thighs. His pale legs are exposed, smooth and hairless, and he’s half bent over, rubbing at one of his calves.
“Uh.” Namjoon tries very hard to tear his gaze away from Yoongi’s slim legs. “Sorry, I can come back.”
“It’s alright,” Yoongi says dismissively, reaching for a tub of body butter on his desk. He scoops out some peach colored lotion and rubs his hands together. “I’m just doing my skincare routine.”
Right. Skincare. Skincare where Yoongi rubs lotion into his legs. Cool. That’s - yep. That’s cool.
“What’s up?” Yoongi prompts when Namjoon doesn’t respond.
Once again, Namjoon forces himself to stop staring at Yoongi’s legs. “Um. I’ve been -” He should have thought this through. How the hell does he phrase this without sounding like a weirdo?
Hyung, I think my dick is broken.
Hyung, what do you get off to?
Fuck.
“Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi tries again. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m looking for porn,” Namjoon blurts.
There’s a pause then, Yoongi eyes going wide as he slowly straightens up. “Does this have anything to do with Seokjin hyung texting me and telling me you were harassing him?”
“I wasn’t harassing him,” Namjoon grumbles. He sighs, launching into an explanation that is, of course, very embarrassing. But Yoongi stays impassive, listening as Namjoon rambles about porn and videos and not finding the right thing.
“You’re overthinking again,” Yoongi says gently.
Probably true.
“Well, have you tried touching yourself differently?”
Namjoon blinks, considering the question. “Um. Like with my other hand? Yeah.”
“No, Namjoon,” Yoongi says patiently. “Like not just touching your dick. Have you tried fingering yourself?”
“Oh.” Namjoon can feel his face turning bright red. “I’ve never, um -” He swallows. “I’ve had anal sex before, with girls. But nothing with, um, myself.”
Yoongi reaches for his body butter again, scooping more out and beginning to massage it into his thigh. The skin pinkens as he rubs in the lotion and Namjoon feels a little sweaty.
“Is that something you might want to try?” Yoongi asks. “You don’t have to, but that could help. A different kind of stimulation, you know.”
That makes sense, and Namjoon isn’t opposed. He’s just never tried it and… well it seems kind of complicated. “What if I mess it up?”
“It’s not that hard,” Yoongi says kindly, though Namjoon is sure he wants to laugh. “And I can help if you want, as your spiritual guide to your prostate and all.”
The slight sweatiness Namjoon was feeling erupts into full blown dampness on his lower back and beneath his arms. Is it hot in here?
“Um.” Namjoon doesn’t know what helping would entail. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” Yoongi says easily. “Just let me know if you want to talk about it again.” He gives Namjoon a sweet smile. “It’s okay to be nervous.”
Namjoon mumbles a thank you and steps backwards out of the room, closing the door as he does, leaving Yoongi, and his smooth legs, behind.
---
Namjoon thinks about what Yoongi said. He thinks about it too much. Like, way too much. Keeps replaying Yoongi’s words to help, keeps thinking about a new kind of stimulation.
He’s intrigued, sure, but he’s still nervous about it. Part of it is Yoongi himself, Namjoon thinks. What kind of line is this crossing to let your roommate help you learn how to finger yourself? And how would Yoongi do that? Namjoon’s mind immediately goes to Yoongi’s smooth legs, his big hands and - no. That’s. No.
Maybe Yoongi would just give him some helpful articles and some tips. Like a good hyung. Some friendly advice between best friends who like dick.
Namjoon does some of his own research, looking up articles and blog posts. There are a lot of them, guides to ease yourself in. He’s not sure if that’s a play on words or not. But most of those guides sound strangely clinical and a little too complicated and intimidating. Namjoon doesn’t think sticking his finger up his ass should be so intimidating, but this is all very new to him.
He tries watching a few porn videos. Videos with titles like First time bottoming and first time finger fucking are not as helpful as Namjoon expected. He reminds himself that porn is not realistic and this is absolutely not the first time for any of these men moaning on his screen.
And really, well… maybe it would be easier if he had someone to help. Someone to do it for him, or like, talk him through it. His mind whirls and spins, leaving Namjoon in a distracted spiral.
That’s how Yoongi finds him, dazed in the kitchen the next afternoon, staring blankly at the sink as he thinks about shoving his fingers into his ass.
“What’s wrong?”
Yoongi’s voice startles him and Namjoon spins around, blinking in surprise. He’s in a soft looking sweater that hangs nearly to the middle of his thighs. Namjoon can see the hem of his shorts just beneath. Short ones. Legs on display again.
“Did you break something?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his eyes and trying to peer behind Namjoon.
“No!” Namjoon says quickly. And then, because this seems to be becoming a habit, he keeps speaking. “Will you show me how?”
Yoongi cocks his head to the side, looking confused. “Show you how to what?”
Namjoon flushes. “Um. What we talked about last night.”
“Oh.” And Namjoon is sure Yoongi’s cheeks pinken as his eyes widen in surprise. “You want me to -”
“Not like that,” Namjoon hurries to clarify. “I just meant, um… maybe you could help?”
There’s a moment of quiet as Yoongi considers Namjoon’s request. He pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek and that is distracting.
“Okay so…” Yoongi shifts from foot to foot. “Maybe I have an idea.”
---
Namjoon winds up back in his bedroom. Lying on his bed with all his clothes off, jittery and nervous. There’s a towel under him and lube beside him and… and he’s alone.
Alone, but his phone is beside him, and his airpods are in and - and Yoongi’s soft, gravely voice comes through to Namjoon’s ears as he lays there, staring at the ceiling and starting to second guess this entire thing.
“You’re sure this is okay?” Yoongi asks. He sounds unsure and Namjoon’s own inner thoughts mirror that, but…
“Yeah,” Namjoon croaks. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I just - I’m nervous.”
Yoongi makes a soft sound, a hum of understanding. “That’s okay, Namjoon-ah. Hyung will help.”
“Okay,” Namjoon says quietly. He shifts slightly on the bed, flexing his toes. He wonders if Yoongi is on his bed as well, stretched out like this. Wonders if he’s naked. Namjoon does not ask.
There are a few beats of silence before Yoongi speaks again. “So,” he begins, “you said you’ve never done this before?”
“Not to myself,” Namjoon mumbles. “I’ve, you know, with girls.”
Yoongi hums in acknowledgement. “It’s not all that complicated, I mean you’ve done it to other people. But it can seem a little intimidating the first time.”
Something in Namjoon relaxes a little at Yoongi’s words. He does feel intimidated by it, and he feels ridiculous about it. But Yoongi acting like that’s normal helps. “Were you nervous?”
“My first time?” Yoongi asks. “Yeah, I -” he pauses for a moment, then continues. “I was a teenager and I was curious. I tried in the shower, to mixed results.”
“Did it hurt?”
“A little,” Yoongi replies. “But I wasn’t using actual lube and - well, I figured it out shortly after. Then I figured it out further with other people.”
The thought of Yoongi touching himself in the shower has Namjoon’s stomach swooping. He swallows hard, ignoring the way his cock is chubbing up. It’s normal, probably, to be turned on by someone else’s sex stories. It’s not just because of Yoongi’s low voice, or the thought of his long fingers inside himself, inside someone else.
“You have your lube?” Yoongi asks when Namjoon doesn’t speak again.
Namjoon nods and, realizing Yoongi can’t see it, hurries to speak. “Yes, hyung.”
“Alright, are you -” he cuts off again and Namjoon can almost imagine how he must be biting his lip. A Yoongi mannerism he’s used to. “Are you hard?”
Oh.
“Um.” Namjoon’s head feels a little fuzzy. “Mostly?”
“Okay, that helps. You may not stay hard throughout a lot of this process, it can be a little weird at first. But it helps more if you’re relaxed, okay?”
“Okay,” Namjoon echoes.
“Cool,” Yoongi says, though he doesn’t sound entirely cool. “Do you feel relaxed?”
Namjoon is definitely tense. “Kind of?”
The sound of Yoongi sucking on his teeth is audible through Namjoon’s earbuds. “Okay, well… maybe touch yourself a little? Just - you know, get yourself a little more relaxed.”
A bolt of heat goes straight to Namjoon’s cock. His roommate is telling him to touch himself, to jerk himself off and - okay, like… this is what Namjoon asked for. For Yoongi to help him, to guide him. So he should be expecting this, but… Well it’s still a lot.
“Okay, hyung,” Namjoon says finally and curls his fingers around his cock. He’s fully hard now, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t. Namjoon’s cock throbs again when he gets his hand around himself.
Yoongi is quiet now, but Namjoon can hear his breathing, soft over the line. And it’s nice, it helps Namjoon let go of some of his tension. And yet…
“Hyung,” Namjoon speaks into the silence, “I can’t -”
“Can’t relax?” Yoongi finishes for him.
“I just feel weird.” Namjoon pauses, considering the situation. They’re in their separate bedrooms, one wall between them. And they’re on the phone, Namjoon with his hand on his dick. Yoongi can hear him, is going to talk him through it but… “Are you doing it too?”
An intake of breath and then silence for a beat. Two.
“Hyung?”
“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi begins, voice a little high, “I’m not sure I…” he trails off.
Swallowing to clear his throat, Namjoon speaks again. “I just feel weird doing it alone. Maybe, um, if you did it too, it would be easier for me? I could relax more if I know it’s not just like… me by myself?” Namjoon by himself, putting on a show.
There’s another moment of hesitation, then Yoongi’s voice, soft, “Okay.”
Namjoon wonders if they’re crossing a line here, moving past something they should. But he can hear the sounds of Yoongi shuffling around, him taking off his clothes and the shift of his mattress and… lines don’t seem to matter right now. Namjoon pushes those thoughts away, focusing instead on the sound of Yoongi’s breathing.
“Okay,” Yoongi says again. “I’ll do it with you. Ready?”
“I think so?”
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t feel ready. Honestly, Namjoon, you don’t have to finger yourself or have anything in your ass ever. Wanting to date and sleep with other men doesn’t mean you need to bottom if it’s not something you’re comfortable with,” Yoongi says diplomatically.
The words are comforting, and Namjoon appreciates them, but… “I want to,” he confesses. “I want to know what it feels like and I think, maybe, I’d like to try bottoming. Sometime, you know. Like, I - if I was dating someone or…” he trails off. “Do you like it?”
And that feels like another step over the line.
“It can be an enjoyable experience,” Yoongi says carefully. “I enjoy both and what I prefer doing often depends on my partner, but… I like it.”
Namjoon wants to like it too. He squirms a little on his bed, thighs flexing. “I’m ready.”
“Okay. Spread your legs and get comfortable, it can help if you bend your knees,” Yoongi explains. “And sometimes putting a pillow under your hips helps a little with the angle, but it’s not necessary.”
“I’m comfortable,” Namjoon responds, spreading his thighs and bending his knees. He plants his feet on the bed, toes wiggling in the sheets.
The sound of Yoongi shifting around is audible through Namjoon’s earbuds. Then he hears the click of a bottle cap. “Lube next, Joon-ah.”
Namjoon obeys, picking up his own bottle of lube and flicking open the cap. His bottle is full, he wonders how much Yoongi’s bottle has in it.
“Then I want you to pour some onto your fingers.” A pause. “Your dominant hand.”
He does as he’s told, squirting some of the viscous liquid onto his fingers. “It’s cold.”
Yoongi laughs quietly. “Warm it up between your fingers,” he says. “It helps if it’s not too cold. Just rub your fingers together, get them nice and wet. We’ll start with one, and you might need to add more lube, but for now this is enough.”
There’s quiet for a moment, as they both coat their fingers in lube, and then Yoongi’s voice again. “Now touch yourself.” A bolt of lightning travels up Namjoon’s spine. “Just around your hole,” Yoongi goes on. “Get yourself used to the feeling of the lube and the touch. Let hyung know when you feel ready for more.”
Letting out a shaky breath that he’s sure Yoongi can hear, Namjoon obeys once again. He closes his eyes, letting his hand slip down between his legs. Bypassing his still hard cock, Namjoon slides his fingers into the cleft of his ass. He finds his entrance easily enough, a shiver prickling over his skin as his fingers brush his rim.
A small gasp threatens to spill from his lips and Namjoon swallows it down, pressing his lips tight together as he does as Yoongi told him. His body clenches involuntarily at first, but Namjoon takes his time, circling his entrance with the tip of his finger. It’s sensitive, ripples of ticklish pleasure sparking as he teases around his hole. He can feel himself relaxing into the mattress, enjoying the feeling.
He almost forgets there’s more, almost forgets Yoongi is on the phone with him, until he hears a soft, stuttery breath in his ears. Then he remembers Yoongi, remembers Yoongi is touching himself too.
“Hyung,” Namjoon croaks, ignoring the way his cock dribbles precum against his belly. “Hyung, I’m ready.”
“Alright,” Yoongi replies. “We’re going to put the first finger in. It doesn’t matter which one, but I usually start with the middle.”
All of a sudden, this becomes very real. Namjoon feels himself tense again and lets out a shaky breath.
But Yoongi seems to realize it. “It’s okay, Namjoon-ah,” he says softly. His voice is calm, steady. “Can you breathe with hyung?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “Breathe in. Good. And out. Again.”
They stay like that for a few moments, just breathing together. Yoongi’s voice is soothing and Namjoon finds himself relaxing again.
“Good,” Yoongi breathes. “Now on the next exhale, I want you to press your finger inside yourself. Just the tip. Breathe in and -” The sound of Yoongi’s inhale. “Now out.”
As Namjoon lets out his held breath, he presses the tip of his middle finger inside himself to the first knuckle. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but it doesn’t feel good either.
“Joon-ah?” Yoongi prompts. “How do you feel?”
“Um.” Namjoon can feel himself clenching involuntarily around the intrusion of his finger. It still doesn’t hurt, but it’s uncomfortable. “It doesn’t really feel good?”
“I know,” Yoongi soothes. “It won’t feel good at first. Gotta work yourself open, get used to it. A little further now, to the second knuckle.”
Namjoon does as he’s told, the discomfort increases. It’s a strange feeling, a fullness as his walls contract around his finger.
“Do you have enough lube?”
“Uh huh,” Namjoon agrees. The slide, at least, feels wet enough. Namjoon likes it wet, he maybe even used too much lube. Though he’s not sure that’s really a thing right now.
“Good,” Yoongi says. “You’re doing so well.”
Oh. Namjoon’s erection, having flagged a little, twitches in interest at the praise.
“Let’s try moving, now. I want you to pull your finger out to the tip and press back in all the way.” Yoongi’s voice is calm but authoritative and Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to listen. “Nice and slow for hyung, don’t want to hurt yourself.”
For hyung.
Namjoon begins thrusting his finger slowly into himself. It still doesn’t exactly feel good, but the discomfort slips away. It’s wet and warm and the sensation of his finger rubbing along his walls, knuckles catching on his rim is almost pleasant. He can tell it could get there, a hint of something good teasing just out of reach.
“How does that feel, Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi asks, his voice low, sending shivers down Namjoon’s spine.
And Namjoon is suddenly reminded that he’s not doing this alone. That on the other side of the wall, Yoongi has a finger inside of himself just like Namjoon does. That the slight threadiness of Yoongi’s voice is because of that.
Suddenly one finger isn’t enough.
“Can we do another?” Namjoon asks. He hopes his voice doesn’t sound as croaky over the phone as it does in his own ears.
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes, and it sounds like a sigh. “Nice and easy, Joon-ah. Adjust your position if you need to and go slow. The stretch might be a little more than you expect.”
Yoongi’s breath hitches on the last word, and Namjoon can imagine him on the other side of the wall, sprawled on his mattress, legs spread, pushing two of his long fingers into his hole. Namjoon wonders if it’s pink like Yoongi’s knees and elbows, his lips. Wonders if he waxes, if it’s smooth and hairless like his legs.
Those thoughts, sending a surge of heat through him, make it almost easy to push his two fingers inside himself. The stretch is more intense this time, a slight sting as Namjoon eases his fingers slowly inside himself, but it’s bearable.
Especially bearable when he can hear the soft fluctuations in Yoongi’s breathing. And when Namjoon can hear, he’s sure he can hear it, the slight squelch of lube over the line.
“Go nice and slow for hyung,” Yoongi instructs. His voice is scratchy, affected. “Just like before, scissors them a little. Loosen yourself up.”
Loosen himself up for hyung.
And it feels good, any discomfort bleeding into pleasure. Namjoon lets his eyes fall closed, listening to Yoongi as he offers praise and continued direction.
The way Yoongi’s voice sounds so affected as he continues explaining, giving more instructions, goes straight to Namjoon’s cock. He can hear the hitch in his voice, the way Yoongi seems to choke back a moan. Pretty sounds, his voice getting breathy, shaky.
Yoongi lets out a choked gasp and Namjoon swears he hears it through the wall. “If you crook your fingers and press in, just a little further, you can find your -”
The gasp Namjoon lets out when he finds his prostate, fingers brushing over the sensitive nerves, has Yoongi cutting off. He lets out a breathless laugh.
“Right there,” he encourages. “Feels good, hm?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon rasps. Like nothing he’s ever experienced. An electric shock through his body, pleasure sparking like firecrackers along his skin.
“Mm,” Yoongi hums. “Keep doing that, massage right there and keep thrusting your fingers.” Yoongi’s voice catches again and Namjoon hears the creak of his bed. “Touch your -” a tiny pause, “your cock with your other hand, Joon-ah.”
Oh fuck.
Namjoon’s cock is sticky wet with precum, leaking all over his belly. He slides his fist along his length, gathering the wetness to ease the slide as he begins pumping his fist. Namjoon has watched guided masturbation videos before. But none of those were like this. None of those were Yoongi’s voice, Yoongi’s hitched breath and pretty little sounds he’s clearly trying to hide.
And that thought, those sounds, have Namjoon teetering dangerously close to the edge. Sparks and bolts of pleasure, arousal pooling low in his belly. Yoongi was right about the stimulation, something different, something good. Though, as pleasure coils tight in Namjoon’s belly, he can’t help but think this all might be better if it weren’t over a phone.
If Yoongi was here, in his room, his breathy voice not through Namjoon’s earbuds. If Yoongi was kneeling between Namjoon’s legs and the fingers inside of him, touching his most intimate places, were Yoongi’s.
Namjoon’s orgasm slams into him like a truck, taking him by surprise. He groans, unable to stifle the sound as he rocks his hips. It’s hard to know what way to move, to fuck into his fist or down onto his fingers. His hole clenches, pulsing as Namjoon milks his prostate, painting his belly with cum.
When he hears, barely half a second later, Yoongi’s choked moan as he follows Namjoon over the edge, Namjoon thinks he almost blacks out.
They don’t speak for a while. Namjoon doesn’t move, eyes still closed, chest heaving. He’s sticky and wet all over with sweat, lube, and cum, but he feels like jelly. Unable to make his limbs work, to do anything other than try to remember how to breathe.
He can hear Yoongi breathing heavily too, the sound of Yoongi’s breathing so loud in his ears, filling his mind.
“Joon-ah,” Yoongi says finally, his voice hoarse. “You okay?”
Namjoon feels like he has to pry his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “Yeah,” he slurs, lips and tongue sluggish. “Felt good.”
“Good,” Yoongi says softly. “You did good.”
His cock gives a traitorous twitch and Namjoon slowly withdraws his fingers from himself. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Of course, Namjoon,” Yoongi says kindly. “Hyung will always help you with anything. Whatever you need.”
A dangerous promise when Namjoon’s thoughts are on Yoongi’s hands on him, in him. With a final mumbled thanks, Namjoon taps at the side of an earbud with his knuckle, ending the call.
Melting back against his mattress, Namjoon blinks up at the ceiling. “What the fuck did I just do?” he whispers.
---
Later that night, when Namjoon ventures out of his room for a glass of water, he finds Yoongi in the kitchen. There’s a moment of silence, and Yoongi’s face turns a bright raspberry pink as he spots Namjoon.
“Hey,” Yoongi says quietly. He seems a little shy, a little awkward. But not upset or anything. Not weird. So… at least it doesn’t seem like Namjoon fucked anything up with his request.
“Hey,” Namjoon repeats. “Um.” He’s not entirely sure what to say. He’s already said thanks over the phone, should he say it in person too? How do you say thanks for having phone sex with me so I could try fingering myself, you're a great friend without making it weird?
Your best friend knows what you sound like when you come, Namjoon's mind says instead. He blinks hard.
“Good night,” Yoongi says, giving Namjoon a small smile and stepping around him. He squeezes Namjoon’s arm as he passes, and Namjoon knows he must be just as red as Yoongi is.
Namjoon can’t help but think about his fingers and his brain, torturous and mean, whispers again - you know what your best friend sounds like when he comes. That reminder is even worse.
---
If, the next day when Yoongi is at work, Namjoon uses the bottle of silicone lube he finds beneath the sink to finger himself in the shower, it’s really not anyone’s business. No one’s business as he comes all over the wall, thinking about Yoongi’s fingers inside him and Yoongi’s stuttered breaths.
As he gets out of the shower and dries himself off, Namjoon tells himself it was only natural, when Yoongi had talked him through things. Only natural to get off to thoughts of his best friend after the experience they shared. Nothing weird or out of the ordinary there at all.
Right?
---
A couple days later, Namjoon finds himself home alone. He’s lying on his bed, a book cracked open on his belly, but face down as he scrolls on his phone. The original intention to finish the book he started the past month was good, but Namjoon’s felt a bit distracted lately.
He’s scrolling mindlessly on Twitter when a notification pops up on the screen, his phone vibrating in his hand. Blinking, Namjoon sees an alert for a new text from Taehyung appear. Before it vanishes, Namjoon taps it with his thumb.
It’s been a few days since he’s talked to Taehyung, and the last message in their chat was Namjoon asking for porn recommendations. He was actually thinking about the best way to apologize, sure he made Taehyung uncomfortable with his request, but he hadn’t quite gotten around to broaching the subject. But now, he doesn’t think he needs to apologize, not when he stares at the message.
[Kim Taehyung]
Try this
As Namjoon watches, a second message appears on the screen, this one with a dropbox link. And then, a few seconds later, a winking face emoji.
Namjoon had kind of tried to block the whole asking your best friends for porn thing out of his memory. Tried to pretend it didn’t happen so he doesn’t have to think about the things his friends like. So he hesitates, just for a second, two, thumb hovering over the link. But he’s intrigued…
“Fuck it,” Namjoon mumbles, and taps the link.
The graphics on the screen shift as the dropbox opens and Namjoon waits as it loads. It takes a few seconds, but when it does, Namjoon is greeted by columns and rows of videos. Columns and rows of videos that Namjoon can’t entirely see from the little thumbnails. He brings his phone closer, squinting at the screen, but he can’t make out much. The titles don’t help either, key smashes or numbers, a couple that are just a single, random word.
Namjoon probably shouldn’t click on any of these. Who knows what might be lurking in the depths of this drive. Taehyung’s not a bad guy, he wouldn’t send Namjoon a virus. But he’s definitely a little odd, and Namjoon worries that might extend to his taste in jerk off material.
And yet… he’s already come this far.
Scrolling a little through the rows of videos, Namjoon taps on one at random. There’s a moment with a swirling loading symbol, the screen going dark, and then -
Oh.
The man on the screen is pretty. Slim and petite and gorgeous. He’s reclined back on a couch, head tilted over the arm rest as a man standing beside the couch hovers over him, guiding him into a kiss. So much pale skin on display as the man squirms a little, big hands reaching up for the man and -
Namjoon clicks the back button, selects another video.
Another pretty boy, this one facing the camera. He’s over a table, forearms braced on the wood and his body is jostled forward every time the man standing behind him thrusts into him. He’s thin and willowy, pretty doe eyes and pink lips, soft blonde hair.
A notification from Taehyung has Namjoon quickly tapping the back button again.
[Kim Taehyung]
I just love a pretty twink
Don’t you?
And maybe Namjoon does, as he selects another video. He’s already rock hard in his sweats and he hasn’t even touched himself.
The video loads, and it seems to be a solo show of some sort. A man on camera with honey blonde hair, sitting propped up against a headboard. He’s wearing only an oversized t-shirt, the fabric pooling at his thighs. Sharp, cat-like eyes stare through the screen at Namjoon. A wet tongue darts out to lick pink lips. And then the man is lifting the shirt with one hand, exposing soft skin dusted pink, a hard cock already shiny with precum.
Namjoon has his hand shoved into his sweats before he can even think. He squeezes himself as the man on camera lets his head fall back, tongue lolling out. His fingers tease at the head of his cock and Namjoon mirrors him, sliding his own hand to the tip of his cock and thumbing over his slit. He’s already starting to get wet, leaking from so little.
The man on the screen is so pretty, making soft, breathy sounds as he plays with himself. And as his hand slips lower, Namjoon can’t help but stare at how large it is. Big hand, long fingers, two of them slipping into his hole as the man arches.
Namjoon clumsily shoves his sweats and boxers down his legs and spits on his palm, bringing his hand back to curl around his hard cock. He begins stroking himself fast, toes curling as he watches the video. He can see the tensing of the man’s thighs, slim and pale, the way his free hand fumbles across his chest, pinching at his own nipples.
And those fingers plunging into himself, slick, wet noises coming from the screen. Accompanied by gasps, breathy moans, a low, satisfied hum.
Shifting slightly, Namjoon switches up his pace, now moving his hand in time with the man fingering himself. Every thrust of his fingers inside his body is a stroke of Namjoon’s hand. Like this, he can almost pretend it’s him inside this man, pretty and pink and soft. Like this, Namjoon can almost pretend those moans are for him.
The man on the screen picks up his pace, his free hand dropping from his chest to his cock. He makes sure his shirt is out of the way and begins playing with the head again, flushed cherry pink and dripping. Namjoon is practically dripping too, his hips kicking up involuntarily, practically fucking into his fist.
Heat coils low in his belly and Namjoon can feel himself getting close. He brings the phone closer to his face, watching as the man’s tongue pokes into the corner of his mouth. Hooded eyes on screen open, meeting Namjoon’s, and Namjoon curses, hips jerking again as his orgasm hits him.
It’s not until he’s spilling into his hand, breath hiccupping in his chest, that he realizes that the man on the screen looks an awful lot like Yoongi.
---
It’s Taehyung’s fault. That’s what Namjoon has decided and he’s sticking to it. Obviously it’s not his own fault, for confiding with Yoongi and asking him for help. And Yoongi, the kindest hyung, always willing to help, would never have turned Namjoon down. But Namjoon could deal with that, because Yoongi was just helping. The session he had in the shower, thinking about Yoongi, was just a coincidence after what they did.
Definitely not something he thinks about often.
So Taehyung is the one to blame.
Because - okay, because Namjoon knows what his type is. Slim, pretty boys with sharp eyes and pink lips. Pink all over, dusting pretty, soft skin. Masculine with big hands and broad shoulders, but soft and small at the same time.
Twinks.
They’re the ones that really do it for him. Namjoon can admit that. Those videos are what he was looking for, those men were what he was looking for. Maybe his type is slim twinks with pouty pink lips and cat-like eyes. Thin thighs that Namjoon can imagine wrapping his hands around, marking up all red.
And what do all these things have in common?
They are all characteristics of Namjoon’s roommate, Min Yoongi.
Namjoon’s best friend of over ten years who is kind and doting and, fuck, okay, really fucking hot. Objectively, Namjoon has probably always known that Yoongi is attractive. That Yoongi is gorgeous. But somehow he didn’t connect that, probably because Yoongi is his friend and Namjoon’s not about to perv on his friend that he’s known for more than a decade!
It makes Namjoon want to scream.
He’s a pervert, his sex positive attitude is no longer a good thing. Not when he’s thinking about his best friend, objectifying him. This is why men are gross, why women call men gross animals. Because Namjoon feels like one, unable to stop thinking about his roommate’s pretty legs. Soft and hairless, moisturized with lotion that smells like peaches.
Taehyung’s fault, for making Namjoon realize this. For bringing it all to a big explosion in his mind.
And Namjoon is horny. He’s always horny, but now more than ever. More than fucking ever, Namjoon feels like he’s sporting a half chub all the damn time.
Especially when he thinks about the videos he watched, the ones in the dropbox folder Taehyung sent him. The ones where the men look like Yoongi and Namjoon can imagine, if he squints, or doesn’t look too closely, that they’re Yoongi.
Or when he remembers how Yoongi took care of him. Gentle but firm, guiding Namjoon over the phone to pleasure himself. And the soft sounds Yoongi had made, when he touched himself too. Breathy and deep, even as he tried to hold them in. Choked moans that Namjoon hears in his dreams.
And the thoughts hit him at the most random times, the worst times. When Namjoon is in the shower, aching to touch himself, he’ll remember the squelch of lube over the phone. When he’s on the subway, or sitting at his desk at work, he’ll wonder how Yoongi looked, spread out on his bed with his fingers inside himself. Wonder if Yoongi does that often when he’s alone, biting his lip to hold in his sounds. And when he’s with Yoongi, eating dinner or sitting on the couch watching TV, Namjoon will see Yoongi’s pink knuckles or his pink knees and wonder if his hole is just as pink and pretty as the rest of him.
He feels a little like he’s going crazy.
Namjoon might say this was a crush. But it feels like more than that. More because it’s Yoongi and Yoongi is… Well, Yoongi is special.
So Namjoon tries not to jerk off to the porn, or to the thought of Yoongi. Because Yoongi is his friend and Namjoon maybe feels a type of way about him that he didn’t realize, but he’s not going to go fucking that up.
But it’s so hard to resist.
---
It takes him less than a week to break. Honestly, Namjoon thought he was stronger, than he had more resolve. But it turns out he’s weak and maybe a little pathetic.
Yoongi is out, though Namjoon didn’t see him leave. But when he got home the apartment was quiet and Yoongi’s door was closed. So he must have gone out, and Namjoon takes the opportunity for some alone time. He feels so pent up he thinks he might explode.
This time, Namjoon opens the videos on his laptop. He wants a bigger screen, wants to see all that pink blush, wants to hear the moans through better speakers. Namjoon is naked, pants and shirt tossed on the floor, laptop propped on his thighs just above his knees.
He’s managed to sort through the videos a little, and he’s found one with the same man from last time. The one with the sharp eyes and pouty lips. The one who looks like Yoongi.
The video this time is in the shower, water dripping down the man’s body as he backs himself up onto a dildo attached to the wall. He’s wet and slippery, dusted pink from the heat of the water and arousal. Namjoon watches as his thighs flex, as his hands trails over his body, and as his hole swallows the big dildo on the wall.
As he wraps his palm around his hard cock, Namjoon imagines that it’s Yoongi in the shower. Yoongi naked and dripping, with Namjoon’s hands running over his body. And the cock he’s backing himself up onto, that his pink hole is taking in so greedily, is Namjoon’s.
Namjoon’s just barely started to jerk off, just starting to set up a teasing rhythm with his hand, when his door opens. He freezes, hand tightening around his cock as Yoongi steps into the room, staring down at a bottle in his hand.
“Joon-ah, did you buy this sauce?” Yoongi asks, still studying the label. “I don’t remember buying it and I can’t find an expiration date. Do you know if it -” Yoongi’s eyes move from the bottle to Namjoon and he cuts off abruptly, eyes widening and bottle of sauce slipping from his hand to thunk onto the floor.
They’re both frozen now, Namjoon with his hand still around his cock, and still desperately hard. And Yoongi with wide eyes, lips parted in shock, his gaze fixed on a clearly naked Namjoon. At least the laptop just barely hides Namjoon’s crotch from view. Maybe Yoongi will think he’s wearing boxers and he’s just watching a movie in his underwear.
“I’m so sorry,” Yoongi says quickly, though he still doesn’t seem to be able to look away. “I didn’t mean to -”
A moan comes through Namjoon’s speakers, breathy and sweet and far too loud. Yoongi’s eyes snap up to Namjoon’s face, where Namjoon is sure he must be bright red. His traitorous cock twitches as Yoongi’s eyes narrow slightly, assessing.
There’s a pause and Namjoon watches as Yoongi licks his lips. “Are you watching porn?”
“I -” Namjoon's voice cracks on the word, tongue shriveling up with a strangled sound.
Yoongi drifts closer, clearly interested. “I thought you were sick of porn,” Yoongi says, head cocking to the side. “I know you were having trouble finding something you liked.” He’s nearly level with Namjoon’s groin now and Namjoon has still not tried to hide his cock. “Did you find something that -”
Silence, apart from the lewd noises on the screen. Silence as Yoongi stops, just beside Namjoon’s bed, his eyes fixed on the screen. And Namjoon knows what he must see, as the man arches his back and turns his face toward the camera.
“That’s -”
Pink and pale. Pretty and slim. With Yoongi’s hair, his pouty lips and cat-like eyes, even his little button nose.
“That guy looks like me.”
And Namjoon whines, honest to god fucking whines and it’s horrible. Yoongi looks away from the screen, gaze falling on Namjoon’s still hard cock, then drifting up to his face. “Do you like that he looks like me?” He’s never heard Yoongi’s voice like this, sultry and deep, the edge of a teasing purr there.
Namjoon wants to die, but he nods anyway. Because he can’t seem to help himself.
Yoongi’s eyes drift back to Namjoon’s dick where he’s still holding it in his hand like some kind of fucked up flag. “You’re big.”
Fire licks along Namjoon’s spine, his dick giving a traitorous twitch. He can feel precum leak from his slit, see the way Yoongi’s eyes dilate, how his tongue comes out to wet his lips.
When Yoongi finally meets his gaze, his eyes are dark. “Want hyung to help?”
---
Namjoon thinks he might be having an aneurysm. Or maybe he’s hallucinating? Dreaming? Those are the only reasonable and logical explanations for what’s happening right now. The only reason for Namjoon to be where he is.
Which is, flat on his back on his bed, fully naked, with an equally naked Yoongi on top of him. That is, by itself, unbelievable enough. But it gets better… worse? It gets more unbelievable. Because Yoongi is straddling Namjoon backwards, braced on his knees and one elbow, facing away.
Facing away because - because… Fuck.
Namjoon doesn’t know where to look. At Yoongi’s slim thighs on either side of his torso. At Yoongi’s hard cock between his legs, dripping onto Namjoon’s lower belly. Or, and this is the most distracting, on Yoongi’s long, slick fingers as they press into his hole.
“Are you paying attention?” Yoongi asks, his voice gravel deep.
And Namjoon nods, even though he knows Yoongi can’t see him. He’s not sure he could speak right now though, not when Yoongi is fucking two fingers in and out of his hole right in front of Namjoon’s face. So Namjoon can watch, so he can learn.
Yoongi is so gorgeous like this, back arched and skin dusted with a coral blush. He’s making soft, hitched sounds and he keeps throwing his head back as he presses into himself. His hole, shiny with lube and stretched around two scissoring fingers, is just as pink as Namjoon imagined it would be.
For his own part, Namjoon feels a little frozen. He’s never been teased like this before, forced to watch. He can’t say he doesn’t like it, he fucking loves it, but he’d much rather be a part of it. Yoongi didn’t say he couldn’t touch, Namjoon has mostly just been too stunned since they got to his bedroom and Yoongi pulled off his clothes. Before he knew it, he was flat on the bed and Yoongi was climbing over him, lube in hand.
Managing to get his limbs to obey, Namjoon brings his hands to Yoongi’s legs. He slides them up Yoongi’s thighs, feeling the softness of his skin, moisturized and smooth. When his fingers squeeze lightly, he can see the way Yoongi’s skin turns slightly pink.
Namjoon lets his hands drift higher, until they’re just below Yoongi’s ass. Pressing his thumbs just barely into the cleft of Yoongi’s ass, he pulls his cheeks apart, giving himself an even better view. But that’s still not enough, not when Namjoon’s cock throbs between his legs and Yoongi is so fucking hot.
He wants to help, wants to be the one stretching Yoongi open and making him feel good. He’s fingered himself, fingered girls, fingering Yoongi can’t be much different. So he takes an opportunity, pressing one of his fingers in alongside Yoongi’s two.
“Fucking hell,” Yoongi groans. His hand on the bed sheets slips a little and he nearly falls forward. “Warn a guy next time.”
“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon croaks. “I just want to…” he trails off, mesmerized by the way Yoongi’s hole seems to suck his finger in.
Yoongi shifts and pulls out his fingers, reaching to grab the lube. “You finish then,” he says, tossing the lube back to Namjoon and settling on his elbows. “Get hyung ready for your big cock.”
Namjoon’s big cock throbs.
But Namjoon makes himself focus, coating his fingers and slipping two in to the knuckle. Yoongi is easily stretched for two, but Namjoon wants to be thorough, and he wants to feel. Feel how hot and tight Yoongi is, how wet he is inside with the slickness of the lube. His walls are like warm velvet, squeezing Namjoon’s fingers as he scissors and thrusts them. And the sound Yoongi makes, low and needy, as Namjoon presses a third finger into his hole, has Namjoon craving more.
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to want more too. “That’s enough, Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi says, pulling away from Namjoon’s questing fingers. “Hyung is ready.”
Yoongi passes him a condom and Namjoon tries to remember how to use his hands again. He fumbles with it a little, but manages to get the foil open and pull the condom out as Yoongi reorients himself. Namjoon is just rolling the latex over his cock, when Yoongi straddles him again, this time facing Namjoon. Bracing himself with one palm on Namjoon’s chest, Yoongi grips Namjoon’s cock and lines it up with his entrance.
“Hyung,” Namjoon squeaks, nervousness bubbling up, “what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Yoongi asks.
“I just -” Namjoon swallows hard. “I thought you’d be on your back, or your hands and knees?”
Yoongi lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not letting a baby bi be in control. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He stares Namjoon down and there’s no softness in his eyes now, Namjoon seeing a new side of him. “I’m in charge here, I control the pace.” Namjoon thinks he likes this side. “Especially with a cock like this, so big and thick. You’ll kill me.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze of Namjoon’s cock and Namjoon whines. “Let hyung help, he’ll make you feel so good. Doesn’t hyung always make you feel good?” Yoongi waits for him to nod, then smiles before continuing. “I wanna sit on this big dick. You can fuck hyung how you want next time, okay?”
Namjoon’s mind swims with the possibility of a next time, but he can’t focus on it when Yoongi is sinking down over his cock. He’s so hot and so unbelievably tight, moving slowly, taking inch after inch, until he’s fully seated on Namjoon’s cock.
Looking up the line of Yoongi’s body, Namjoon sees the way his eyes are squeezed closed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. A tear slips from Yoongi’s eye and Namjoon startles slightly, his own eyes widening. “Hyung?”
Yoongi hisses as Namjoon shifts, slapping lightly at his chest. “Shh, don’t talk.”
“But you -”
“Shut up, hyung’s fine.” Yoongi opens his eyes, they’re slightly teary but he blinks, giving Namjoon a sweet smile. “You’re just big,” Yoongi breathes, eyes closing again as he lets himself adjust and breathe through the stretch. He presses a hand to his belly. “Can feel you here.”
The words send fire through Namjoon’s core. He fights not to thrust up into Yoongi, trying to regain control. His hands come up to Yoongi’s thighs, holding on to ground himself.
Yoongi starts moving his hips in tiny circles, both hands on Namjoon’s chest now. His fingers flex against Namjoon’s skin as he swivels his hips, acclimating to the stretch.
“Some -” Namjoon hiccups on a moan. “Some girls thought I was too big. Didn’t want to take all of me. Or didn’t want to fuck.”
“Mm,” Yoongi hums. His eyes slowly open, and he blinks lazily at Namjoon. “I’m not a quitter, Namjoon-ah,” he drawls. “I like them big.”
And that’s all the warning Namjoon has before Yoongi starts to move and Namjoon feels like he loses his goddamn mind.
This is far better than any porn star on Namjoon’s laptop screen. Far better than any twink with a sultry smile. Because this is Yoongi, flushed and slightly sweaty, staring down at Namjoon with dark, hooded eyes and bouncing on Namjoon’s cock. This is Yoongi, and Namjoon still can’t quite believe it.
Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed again and he presses more firmly on Namjoon’s chest, holding him down against the mattress as he fucks himself on Namjoon’s cock. Namjoon’s hands grip Yoongi’s thighs tight enough that he’s sure he’ll leave marks, trying to hold himself together.
Because it feels amazing, pleasure and heat surging through him with every shift of Yoongi’s body. Yoongi’s thighs tremble on either side of him, his head thrown back as he moans. Namjoon moans right along with him, caught between wanting to close his eyes and give into pleasure and keep them open to watch Yoongi above him.
He can feel Yoongi slowing though, feel the way his thighs shake, and Namjoon only wants more. Wants to give Yoongi more. Planting his feet on the bed, Namjoon slides his hands to Yoongi’s hips and thrusts up into him.
Yoongi groans, eyes flying open to dazedly meet Namjoon’s. “Fuck,” Yoongi rasps. “Again.”
Namjoon obeys, supporting Yoongi’s hips to help him move, meeting every dip of Yoongi’s body with a thrust of his own. Heat builds between them, hot and electric and Namjoon can feel himself getting close. He knows Yoongi must be close too, his hole clenching around Namjoon’s cock, his dick leaking where it bobs between them. There are tears in his eyes again, but they’re clearly from pleasure, Yoongi gasping with every thrust, clawing at Namjoon’s chest.
With a grunt, Namjoon surges up, lifting his upper body to get some leverage. Yoongi makes a sound of surprise, his hands flying to Namjoon’s shoulders, holding on as Namjoon reverses their positions. Yoongi is so light, going easily as Namjoon shoves him onto his back and settles over him. He stares up at Namjoon, lust in his eyes, and something else, something warmer, deeper.
“Hyung,” Namjoon gasps, gripping one of Yoongi’s thighs to shove his knee to his chest and fuck back into him.
They both groan, Yoongi’s head falling back against the comforter, blonde hair fanned across the blankets as Namjoon thrusts into him. He can feel Yoongi moving to meet each thrust, feel Yoongi’s hands on his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer.
But not close enough. Because Yoongi opens his eyes again and their gazes lock. Namjoon stares down at Yoongi below him, at his best friend, and ducks down, pressing their mouths together.
It’s their first kiss, even with the two of them naked and connected like this, they haven’t kissed. A first kiss, wet and soft and for a moment, Yoongi doesn’t respond and Namjoon thinks he’s made a mistake. But then Yoongi’s arms wind around Namjoon’s neck, dragging him closer and Yoongi tilts his head to the side.
Their lips connect in a wet slide, messy and a little sloppy, but so good. Open and searching, Yoongi eagerly reacts to Namjoon’s kisses, tangling their tongues together as Namjoon keeps rolling his hips into him. And it makes everything better, kissing Yoongi. Yoongi who is sweet and perfect and, as Namjoon’s release barrels into him, he doesn’t know why he waited so long to kiss him.
---
“You know,” Namjoon breathes, licking his dry lips, “I think I’m glad you’re my spiritual guide on this journey. Or, well, maybe more than spiritual.”
Yoongi lets out a breathless laugh, stretching languidly in Namjoon’s arms before he curls closer. Their legs tangle together and Yoongi’s hand comes up, fingers carding through Namjoon’s hair. “Happy to help.”
They’re sweaty and sticky, still lying on top of Namjoon’s bed. They should get up and clean up, shower, change the sheets. And yet…
“Was all this just to help me?” Namjoon asks. He has to ask, has to know. “Or is it just you being a good hyung?” Was it that, or could there be more? The warmth in Yoongi’s eyes says much more than friends.
Yoongi softens, his fingers trailing down Namjoon’s jaw, cupping his cheek. “Do you think I’d do this just to be a good hyung?”
Slowly, Namjoon shakes his head. “No, I don’t.” He licks his lips again, eyes catching on the soft curve of Yoongi’s smile. “I think - I think the reason I wasn’t having luck with dates and stuff is because I already had someone in mind.”
“Oh?” Yoongi’s lips twitch, smile turning teasing. “Seokjin hyung?”
Namjoon pinches him, making Yoongi squirm in his arms. “You.”
Another smile, Yoongi giggling as he shifts even closer, their bodies pressing from chest to ankle. “I like you too, Namjoon-ah. Always have. Maybe we can keep going on this journey together?”
“Please,” Namjoon agrees. “I definitely need my guide, especially if I want to learn more about my prostate.”
Yoongi’s laughter is bright as he pulls Namjoon in, smiling wide and gummy. “I’m a very hands-on teacher,” he breathes, before ducking in to connect their mouths.