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The timing works out a little too well, when Namjoon heads to the kitchen at night to get a drink and finds Yoongi already there — in sweatpants and a t-shirt, barefoot, a glass in front of him. He looks Namjoon over carefully, and after Namjoon gives him a nod, Yoongi pours another small glass of whiskey.
"Thanks..." Namjoon says with a bashful smile.
The truth is, he's still nervous as fuck to open up to Yoongi about this, but it's not something that he wants to keep ignoring, either. And moments where he feels like they can talk privately in the house are rare, with the others going in and out of rooms as they please; with their tendency to eat and drink as a group; and with the camera crew showing up more often than not.
So Namjoon steps forward, grateful for the silent invitation to drink together.
It's Yoongi who speaks up first, voice quiet and unassuming. "You said something earlier about wanting to talk?"
"Okay, uh. Just hear me out, please?" is how Namjoon starts once they're both sitting, and Yoongi's expression immediately falls into one of concern.
It both warms Namjoon's chest and gives him this anxious flutter in his belly — guilt, he realizes a second later, because he knows that his personal issues aren't a big deal, in the grand scheme of things. He doesn't want Yoongi to think this is something worth worrying over.
Of course, the others probably wouldn't see it that way. Namjoon acknowledges that. The openness they share... it's always about supporting each other, and no emotion or struggle or doubt is ever too small to seek help for.
It's healthy. It's a beautiful thing, truly. But it still doesn't entirely rid Namjoon of his guilt for what he wants to open up about, and the way that Yoongi must be thinking it's something bigger than it is.
"Ah, hyung, it's not— this is a personal issue, but not, like, a serious one." Yoongi looks doubtful, but he nods for Namjoon to continue, and that's enough for him to believe that Yoongi will listen to him with an open mind.
"It's just, for some of the songs, whether we use them or not, the writing needs to have that element of... sensuality, more than just romantic. Adult desire."
"Right," Yoongi agrees, crossing his arms over his chest. This topic isn't anything new or scandalous, but for a brief moment, Namjoon wonders if Yoongi could be feeling a kind of shyness when it comes to discussing sex so bluntly.
It's been a long time since they've comfortably shared TMI of this nature. And Namjoon won't pretend that his own stomach doesn't tighten at the topic, cheeks heating slightly.
"My worry is... is that I can't be that writer. That I'm too rusty on the subject, since it's been, ah—" Namjoon curls his fingers around his glass, but makes himself get the words out before he takes a drink. "It's been two and a half years since I've felt anything like that."
Yoongi's expression remains carefully even. "Since you've dated?"
"Since I've had an orgasm."
Finally, Yoongi's eyebrows lift in surprise, eyes widening. He sits up straighter. Namjoon tries to ignore the embarrassed flush in his own face, as if that will make the heat go away.
"Namjoon-ah," he says, voice suddenly croaky. "Two and a half years?"
"Since, um, don't- don't read too much into this, okay? I swear I've been to a therapist. But... since Seokjin-hyung enlisted."
Yoongi slumps back in his chair. He draws in a shaky breath and then lets it out.
"Fuck."
"Yeah, it's just, I don't know—"
"Explain it to me," Yoongi interrupts, and his gaze doesn't carry the heaviness of concern that would just continue to fill Namjoon with guilt, but instead, his expression is open. Just— kind.
The same Yoongi that Namjoon can laugh with, can cry with, can talk out his feelings with. Not Yoongi his hyung, but right now, Yoongi as his best friend and partner in every way that matters.
"Explain it?"
"Yeah, you know. Overshare, tell me exactly what you feel. Is it no longer feeling attraction, or a physical resistance to pleasure, or anxiety about the act itself? I'm not saying I can solve it for you, and I don't think you're asking for that, anyway. But it's something you want to change, right?"
Namjoon takes another drink of whiskey. And then he nods.
"Okay, uh. At first I think it was just— I mean, fuck, it was sadness, right? I was sad and stressed. We all were. There was a lot going on, and I was even unsure about whether I'd still enlist at the time we planned. And then, working on my album... That itself was a release to me, and it took up so much of my brain, I wasn't thinking about making time for sex. Sure, I'd still try jerking off in the shower sometimes, but it was like following a routine. There was no real pleasure in it at that point. And after enlisting..."
Namjoon pauses for a few seconds longer than he means to, and Yoongi reaches across the table, fingers covering Namjoon's. Gently squeezing. Namjoon doesn't look up, but he murmurs a low, thanks, and Yoongi asks in a soft voice,
"What about after you were discharged?"
"Ah, well. I've tried a couple times, again, back to feeling like I was just doing it for the sake of doing it. Not even looking at porn or anything. I actually thought it might exhaust me, you know, help wear me out so I could sleep better. But it hasn't..." Namjoon huffs out a frustrated breath, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "It hasn't felt good, like an actual release, in a long time. So I haven't even really thought about trying more, like— having sex with someone."
Yoongi hisses, that sound of drawing in a breath through his teeth. He's quiet for several moments, which doesn't worry Namjoon. That's just how Yoongi is. Absorbing Namjoon's words, and waiting until he has something to say that isn't, That sucks, I'm sorry.
"Do you want to?"
Namjoon's eyebrows furrow slightly. "Have sex? Honestly, it doesn't feel right. Or maybe comfortable is the better word. Going out, meeting someone, maybe someone we already know, it's just— I can't picture it. Not right now, not for me."
"Ah, I was actually talking about just feeling pleasure again. Like real, stars-exploding-behind-your-eyelids kind of pleasure. Doesn't have to be with a stranger."
"Oh." Namjoon swallows. His stomach twists with a strange kind of nervousness. "I mean, shit. Who would say no?" he asks with a rough laugh.
"Okay, yeah, fair. But I didn't know if it was just, maybe that's not something you want anymore, since sexuality isn't so black and white..."
"Ah," Namjoon says, realizing what Yoongi means. "No, I- I still think about it. I want to experience it, shit, even with my right hand," he mumbles with a little laugh, watching the corner of Yoongi's mouth twitch too. "But free time and privacy right now is kinda... well, you know. Not blaming the others at all, I just struggle getting into the headspace for it. Relaxing enough to turn off my brain. I think maybe having a partner could help, like, the distraction of focusing on someone else too, but..." Namjoon huffs out a humorless laugh, running his fingers through his hair. "We're us. It's not that fucking easy."
And maybe it's just me, Namjoon doesn't say, although the thoughts weigh heavily on his mind. Maybe I'm just fucking broken now, hyung.
Namjoon takes another drink, leaving his other hand on the table still, fingers being caressed almost absently by Yoongi's thumb. The touch is soothing in a distant way, but when Namjoon stops and focuses on the gentle stroking over his skin, a slow kind of heat curls deep in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm going to say something," Yoongi says slowly, "and I want to stress that I wouldn't offer something I'm not serious about."
Namjoon swallows, his skin prickling with goosebumps at Yoongi's words. "Okay."
"Kim Namjoon. Do you want to have sex with me?"
Namjoon doesn't laugh, but it's a near thing. His eyes grow wide, a sudden lurch in his stomach. He thinks his palms might even be sweating. "Ah—"
"No pressure, no expectations, no anxiety about privacy. Whatever you're comfortable trying, as long as I'm in charge."
"In charge?" Namjoon echoes, just putting off the fact that he hasn't answered yet, which he's sure Yoongi is very aware of. "Like— topping?"
Yoongi smirks. "No, not necessarily. Is that what you want?"
"A- ah—"
"No, sorry, you don't have to decide that now. I don't care either way. Namjoon-ah. I mean in control. I want you to close your eyes and let yourself feel, and hyung will guide you through it. You still haven't said no."
Namjoon ducks his head, grinning shyly. His chest rises and falls much quicker with his shallow breaths. "Yeah. I still haven't said no. Fuck, we haven't..."
"Please don't tell me how many years it's been since that time, ahh, I feel old enough these days," Yoongi complains in a low mumble, and Namjoon finally lets himself laugh loudly.
The sound is nervous. He knows it is, and Yoongi probably knows it is too. But Namjoon doesn't especially care. Yoongi just offered to have sex with him.
"And if it doesn't work?"
"It might not," Yoongi admits in a softer voice. "Then we try something else. If it's putting stress on you to write about that topic, then we look for a different source of inspiration for lyrics, or a different direction for the songs, if it comes to that. Namjoon-ah, honestly speaking, we've come this far, haven't we? There's no situation where we can't rework things to suit what we'd rather do. It's our music, we have the final say, but..." Yoongi meets Namjoon's eyes, and Namjoon's pulse kicks up a little faster. "But in bed, you would forget all of those responsibilities — the pressure of being a songwriter, being the leader. Your only job is to listen to me, and let go of everything else."
Namjoon licks his lips. He asks in an unsteady voice, "Do I have to call you sir or daddy?"
Yoongi doesn't miss a beat. "Not unless you want to, for some reason."
Namjoon grins. "Okay. Okay, I- I want to try that then. You helping me... let go."
"Yeah?" There's a glint in Yoongi's sharp gaze, something that settles hot in the pit of Namjoon's belly, and his voice is embarrassingly soft when Namjoon breathes out,
"Please, hyung."
—
They go out to lunch the following afternoon, just the two of them.
They get a private booth and order, and as they're waiting for their food, Yoongi pulls out a notebook, opening it to a marked page.
There, written out in his small handwriting, is a long list of what appears to be kinks and other sex-related topics.
Namjoon huffs out a laugh, scrubbing his hand briefly over his face. He blushes, but he still takes the pen that Yoongi offers him and starts to go through the list.
"It's not a checklist in the sense that I plan to, or even want to try all these things," Yoongi explains quietly, and Namjoon is already nodding, even as he raises his eyebrows at some of the things listed. Impact play? Bondage? Roleplay? Humiliation? "And I, ah... I left out a lot of the more intense ones, or ones that aren't relevant, like exhibitionism."
Exhibitionism? Namjoon gets the sudden image in his head of being told to touch himself while Yoongi watches. Sprawled out on the bed, maybe, fingers wrapped around his cock, Yoongi's sharp gaze following the movement of his hand.
He swallows, continuing down the list after he puts a check next to Praise.
"But doing all of this ahead of time... I'm hoping that it will make it easier for you to stay in a relaxed headspace, if I'm not bringing up things that might surprise you, or that you might not want. Like, obviously you can still say yes or no in the moment, it's not going to be that kind of situation—"
"No, I get it," Namjoon interrupts, meeting Yoongi's eyes briefly, and then glancing back down to the page. "It's really smart. You should probably burn this list when we're done, though."
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "What? The maknaes aren't that nosy."
"Actually, wait, no, you should definitely keep this. Shit, it would be hilarious to see one of them try to ask you about it." Namjoon imagines Jungkook's wide eyes and snickers to himself, handing the notebook back to Yoongi when he's done.
Yoongi casually slips the notebook back into his bag when their food arrives (although the chances of their Italian-American server being able to read Korean are slim, it's still not a risk either of them are willing to take), but after getting through most of their meal and discussing music for a while, he brings the list back out.
Yoongi takes his time looking over it, in that nonchalant way he has like Namjoon hasn't bared a little bit of his soul in his answers.
"Can I be honest?" Yoongi asks after a moment, and Namjoon gives him a blank stare. As if they're ever anything but honest with each other. "Unless you really want it — and going by how you wrote the word 'maybe,' I don't think that's the case — I'm not going to fuck you. Or, I don't know, if you think that you have a really sensitive prostate and want to try fingering, but otherwise—"
"No, that's fine. I've, uh, I've bottomed before, you know that," Namjoon mumbles. Just another thing that came up years ago during one of their late-night conversations, their inhibitions lowered from drinking, and TMI shared without teasing, for once. "But it was more... god, hopefully you know what I mean when I say this, but it was more for him? Not like I forced myself to do it, but also just not that pleasurable on its own." He shrugs.
"And that's fine," Yoongi says, although he lets out a little hiss, adding in a lower voice, "I think it's more likely he just wasn't good at it, whoever it was..."
Namjoon flushes, but also doesn't disagree.
"Okay, so that's out of the way... You're still okay with doing what I say and letting me guide you through it? That part of it?"
Namjoon nods. "Really, it's like... I'm fine with that, because it's you, right? But I'm also willing to try almost anything, hyung. If you think that— I don't know, fuckin' tying up my hands or playing with my nipples could help, I'm all for it."
Yoongi gives him a soft look instead of an exasperated one like Namjoon was half-expecting. "Namjoon-ah... what I really think, is that the hardest obstacle for you is letting yourself relax enough to stop overthinking, to just feel pleasure, and I'm not sure if my presence will be enough to get you to that point. But trying different kinds of stimulation couldn't hurt, right?"
Namjoon nods, reaching for his glass to drink some water when he realizes how dry his throat is. He watches Yoongi for a moment as he looks down at his phone, the screen illuminating his face in the dim restaurant lighting.
Namjoon privately thinks that Yoongi has been looking younger lately. That maybe their freedom, their joy at making music together again has them all looking younger and more relaxed. Or could it be the LA air? The acceptance of being men in their 30s now?
At least, Namjoon tries to convince himself they're looking younger until he spots new grey hairs in the mirror in the morning. (Another thing that he and Yoongi can commiserate on.)
"What about tomorrow?" Yoongi asks. "We're not scheduled to stay late at the studio, we'll have time in the evening."
"I— yeah, okay," Namjoon says, and he hates that Yoongi can read him so well, because of course his hyung picks up on the slight tremble in Namjoon's voice.
"If it's too soon—"
"Hyung, no," Namjoon says, sitting up straight and rolling his neck. Be confident, Namjoon-ah. "Tomorrow is fine, really. It's not that I have doubts about doing it or don't feel comfortable enough, you know, it's just..."
"It's been a while?" Yoongi offers, his lips even curving with a little smile.
Namjoon doesn't ask if Yoongi is referring to how long it's been since Namjoon has gotten laid, or if he's referring to that one time they fooled around just after debut — just after Namjoon realized that he was bi, and Yoongi was the first person he came out to. Maybe both are contributing to Namjoon's nerves right now, anyway.
"Yeah. Plus, a little uncertainty is natural, right? Since this is uncharted territory. We can't all be Jimin and Taehyung—"
"Yahh," Yoongi interrupts, but he's smiling. He adds in a mumble, "Who knows what those two do behind closed doors, really..."
Namjoon laughs.
—
Namjoon spends the following morning finding ways to distract himself so he doesn't overthink their plans for later. Working out with Jungkook and Taehyung keeps him busy, obviously, although he tries not to tire himself out too much. If Jungkook and Taehyung suspect anything from Namjoon's slightly nervous energy, they're at least nice enough to not question him about it.
When his mind does inevitably start thinking about tonight, though, Namjoon keeps coming back to the same thought.
He's glad that it's Yoongi.
He knows that he never would have been bold enough to ask for something like this on his own, something as big as this, no matter how casually they both approach it. But when it comes to something so vulnerable... the trust he has in Yoongi goes beyond any other relationship. A deeper kind of trust than opening up to a new therapist, or hooking up with an acquaintance even if he's sure they'll respect his privacy.
With Yoongi, he can trust that his hyung will understand his body language on a level that others just can't, and prioritize Namjoon's comfort, even if things are awkward or embarrassing.
Really, it would be a lie to say that Namjoon has never once thought about that trust between them leading to something as intimate as sex. Too many lonely, late nights in studios and hotels; the memory of hungry, inexperienced lips against his own, of being young and hormonal and full of confused guilt for the boner that he would get watching Yoongi eat a popsicle...
Shit. Of course he's thought about it.
Maybe that's what makes all of this a little less scary, and gives Namjoon the confidence to head to Yoongi's bedroom after he texts Namjoon that he can come over any time. It's what has him making himself comfortable on the bed, earning a single raised eyebrow from Yoongi, but not a complaint.
"The house is quiet," Namjoon comments. He noticed it while walking through the hall.
Yoongi's face betrays nothing — no smugness, no looking for praise — when he says, "I talked to Hoseok this morning and he decided to take the others out for dinner and drinks. They'll be gone until late."
Oh. Damn.
Namjoon doesn't have to ask if Yoongi told Hoseok exactly what they'd be doing, partly because he already knows that Yoongi didn't, but also because he wouldn't even mind if Hoseok knew. But he breathes out a sigh of relief, a tension leaving his shoulders that he didn't even realize he was holding onto.
"Thank you."
Yoongi just hums, although his own shoulders lift a little with something like pride, which Namjoon just finds endearing. "You don't have to thank me. I think they've been wanting to go out anyway. But hopefully this way you don't feel rushed. I think that would just add to your stress, right?"
Namjoon nods.
"That actually brings me to my first rule... Yahh, don't tense up, it's not that kind of rule yet," Yoongi says with a short huff of laughter.
Belatedly, Namjoon realizes that Yoongi must be a little nervous about this too, and that does bring him a kind of comfort.
"I wanted to say, before anything else, that I don't care if you come tonight or not."
Namjoon blinks, his eyebrows furrowing. "But isn't that the point—"
"What I mean is that there's no pressure from me for you to reach orgasm. I'm not waiting for that or expecting it, and if it doesn't happen, then it just doesn't happen. Do you understand?" Yoongi asks, voice a little softer. "I don't want you at any point to start thinking, 'Ah, why can't my body just get there' or 'Why isn't this feeling good enough.' I don't want that to be a thought in your head at all. I'm here for you, to help you, to talk through things if that's what you need. But there's no scenario where I would be disappointed in you."
Namjoon lets out a slow breath, an achy kind of warmth squeezing in his chest from Yoongi's words. Maybe the feeling is just very plainly love, but either way, Namjoon makes himself nod. "I... I get what you're saying, yeah. Okay."
"Okay. Good. Do you want me to put any music on?"
Namjoon nods again.
Yoongi puts on a playlist of slower songs, but keeps the volume very low, which Namjoon appreciates. He doesn't mind having music on during sex, but he doesn't want to feel like he's at a club or a bar, where the music is so loud that it's distracting.
Here, like this — it's just background noise, but Namjoon's attention is still on Yoongi.
Yoongi stands up straight next to the bed after setting up his speaker. His eyes sweep over Namjoon's body, and then he says in a low voice, "Take off your shirt."
Not a question. So Namjoon simply does as he's instructed — he's certainly not uncomfortable being shirtless around Yoongi — and then watches carefully where he's sitting cross-legged on the bed as Yoongi moves closer with a bottle in his hand.
Yoongi must catch where Namjoon is looking, because he mumbles, "It's not lube, if that's what you're thinking. It's massage oil."
Goosebumps erupt over Namjoon's skin, and he tries to blame it on the aircon running in the house, although he doesn't think that's the only reason.
"Ah, a massage, really?"
Yoongi's lips pout slightly. "What, are you opposed?"
Namjoon laughs. "No, just, uh— surprised. You don't usually..."
"Did you forget it was on the checklist I gave you yesterday? Yah, just trust me. Now turn back around, I'll start with your shoulders."
So Namjoon does. He faces the wall opposite of the bed, feeling the mattress dip behind him as Yoongi kneels, pouring out the herbal-scented oil (lavender, maybe?) and starting to slowly rub and squeeze at Namjoon's shoulders.
A groan falls from Namjoon's lips almost immediately, followed by a quiet, "Shit..."
"Sore from working out?" Yoongi asks.
"A little. Nothing too bad, I took it easy today on purpose." Namjoon could ramble on, but he lets the quiet linger instead, enjoying the soft music, and how large Yoongi's hands are as they work at his muscles.
Namjoon wasn't wrong. He rarely sees Yoongi massaging the others, at least not in the way that Jungkook or Jimin naturally reach out to help with muscle aches, so used to dealing with their own. And it's not a problem or anything, when Yoongi isn't overly touchy with others in general.
But damn, Namjoon has been missing out. Yoongi's strong fingers are perfect for it — his grip firm but sure, the slow, gliding movements from his thumbs at the base of Namjoon's neck that have heat spreading down his spine. Yoongi doesn't rush, either, working down his arms until he gets to the muscle of Namjoon's biceps, and even massaging down to his forearms before his hands return to Namjoon's back.
"Oh, this feels amazing," Namjoon murmurs.
Yoongi hums. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, uh— can you do lower? Like, a-ah, there—"
Namjoon moans, the sound breathy and stuttered when Yoongi works right into a particularly sore spot at the back of his shoulder. Yoongi's grip tightens for half a second, and then he's back to squeezing on either side of Namjoon's spine, rubbing, hands moving down to his hips. More goosebumps prickle over his skin despite the way that he's starting to feel flushed from Yoongi's touches.
"Hyung, I swear I'm not complaining, but this feels more like spoiling me than trying to fix my problem..." Namjoon lets out a quieter groan, breath catching at the grip that Yoongi has around his waist.
Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath before he responds. "Spoiled, really... This is just another kind of pleasure, isn't it? I thought it'd be good to start with this. Like how it's easier to think about jerking off once you've been standing in the shower for a while, hot water pounding on sore muscles."
"Ah, he's saying this from experience," Namjoon says with a little smirk.
"And what about it? If I can't even talk about jerking off with you, then I'm going to suck trying to coax an orgasm out of you. No pun intended," Yoongi replies, and Namjoon snickers, even as heat pulses down to his dick. He tugs a little at his shorts, not exactly adjusting himself, but—
But it leaves him tentatively excited, if he's starting to get hard from this.
"Originally, you know, before I told you about my problem. I was thinking, maybe I can just ask hyung to explain those feelings to me, and I'll be able to fake it enough for my songwriting. But my brain doesn't want to work like that."
"And I haven't dated anyone in a while," Yoongi murmurs. "I'm not sure if I'd have that much better of a perspective on it than you."
"It's kind of funny, right?" Namjoon drops his head forward when Yoongi's hands move back to his shoulders, squeezing, thumbs pushing into the muscle at his nape. For a moment, the achy release of those touches leaves Namjoon's mind blissfully blank, but then he remembers what he was saying. "I've heard from some of my hyungs, the ones in the industry, Oh, you'll be so horny after your service, some of it will definitely end up in your songs. And I get where they're coming from, I mean, listening to the guys in my unit talk, especially the ones closer to my age, I know they were ready for privacy and women again," Namjoon says with a rough laugh. "But for the most part, for us, we've all just been—"
"Surviving," Yoongi says quietly. "Learning to be us again."
Namjoon swallows. "Yeah. Maybe because we're older, too, you know. More cautious. But now..."
Yoongi shifts closer. Namjoon senses it, the way that Yoongi leans down, one hand still braced on Namjoon's shoulder.
When he feels a soft pressure at the back of his neck, Namjoon's breath catches in his throat, his stomach clenching.
Yoongi's lips don't stop there. He trails slow kisses to the side of Namjoon's neck, and Namjoon just— tilts his head wordlessly, without even really thinking about it, his own lips parting with a shaky breath at the damp heat against his skin. Even this, soft kisses pressed to his bare skin, feels like more than it actually is, sending a shiver down Namjoon's spine.
"Is this okay?" Yoongi asks as he slides his right hand around Namjoon's body, resting it over the middle of his abdomen. Fingers trace his skin almost like petting, the feeling a little rough in a pleasant way, with Yoongi's callouses from guitar-playing.
"Yeah," Namjoon answers.
"If it starts to feel like too much, or you just need to pause or something, let me know. We could do hours of just this if that's what you want, and I won't be upset."
Namjoon nods, although he can't imagine that being necessary. He already feels the embarrassing urge to arch his back, or guide Yoongi's hand lower, realizing now how eager he is for a touch that isn't his own. How much he's missed being touched by someone else, and feeling utterly safe when that someone now is Min Yoongi.
"Lean back into me," Yoongi says, as if reading his thoughts. Namjoon does, and the hand on his stomach slides lower, but doesn't attempt to slip inside Namjoon's shorts.
Instead, Yoongi touches him over them. Palming at him through the material, fingers spreading and moving slowly, feeling out where Namjoon's cock rests, half-hard. Namjoon doesn't regret not bothering to wear underwear, but—
"God," Namjoon chokes out, eyes squeezing shut, his belly heating. "Hyung, ah—"
"Do you want to pretend I'm someone else?"
"No," Namjoon says quickly, even before he can be offended by the question. Before he finds himself blurting out how natural it feels, actually, to moan that word, hyung, and be picturing Yoongi as he does.
He wonders if he's just imagining the smile in Yoongi's voice when he says, "Okay then. Does this feel good, Namjoon-ah?"
The pad of Yoongi's thumb pets over the tip of Namjoon's cock through the thin shorts, enough to make him shudder. Yoongi's warm breaths puff out above Namjoon's shoulder, his t-shirt pressed to the bare skin of Namjoon's back, and pausing to take in all of those things—
Something shifts inside Namjoon's head. Whatever it is that keeps him centered, thinking rationally, dissecting every touch from Yoongi in his thoughts and overthinking how he reacts — that part of his brain quiets, as if Yoongi hushed it just by saying his name.
Namjoon realizes, after the whimper escapes his throat, that he suddenly feels needy. And he doesn't care how that makes him look to Yoongi.
"Feels good, but it- it's a tease," he eventually answers, hips lifting just a little. His cock twitches, feeling heavier over his lap. Fuller. "You can, unh—"
"I'm going to go slow, unless you tell me that's not okay."
Namjoon draws in a sharp breath.
He trusts Yoongi. He- he trusts Yoongi more than he trusts himself, truthfully.
"Okay," Namjoon says softly.
"Mm, good. I could start jerking you off right now and maybe you'd even come from it, but I want the pleasure to be bigger than that. A release that feels worth all the waiting you had to do."
"Like edging?" Namjoon asks. Yoongi responds with a sharp hiss of breath.
"No, not exactly. I'm not going to intentionally get you close and then make you hold off. Ah, that just seems cruel," he mutters, and Namjoon huffs out a short laugh, privately agreeing. "I just want to make it good for you. You're so big," Yoongi adds, voice betraying how impressed he is, and Namjoon's eyes slam shut when those words send heat rushing through him.
It's not— it's not even praise, not really. Just a statement. Yoongi has seen him naked plenty of times before.
But now, it has Namjoon wanting to squirm, his breathing a little shallower. It has him wanting to hear more from Yoongi's lips, to be able to see his cock in Yoongi's hand, or maybe against his skin. How much darker it would look, the difference in their skin tones, and maybe Yoongi would tease him for leaking already just from this—
Yoongi's left hand slides around to Namjoon's chest, fingers playing with a nipple, pinching at it to coax it to full stiffness. Namjoon hisses, his back arching shamelessly now, but he welcomes the jolting pain-pleasure of the sensation, rather than trying to get away from it. It only seems to make his cock throb hotter under his clothes, under Yoongi's loosely gripping touch.
Arousal pulses warm in his gut, enough to have Namjoon's toes curling, his skin buzzing with the excitement of feeling this way after so long. Although he doesn't let himself hope yet that he could come from this, getting lost in pleasure is already more than he's been able to do by himself in years.
"Can you—" Namjoon starts to ask, and then cuts off, remembering that the whole point of this is only doing what Yoongi tells him.
"Hey," Yoongi murmurs, as if reading his mind. The fact that he can't even see Namjoon's face right only makes it more impressive that he seems to pick up on the reason for Namjoon's hesitation. "You can ask for anything, Namjoon-ah. Giving up control doesn't mean not sharing what you do or don't want."
"It's just— can you keep talking?" Namjoon blurts out. "I don't... I don't like being left alone in my head."
Maybe it's too honest of a thing to say. But before Namjoon can apologize for ruining the mood, Yoongi is already answering.
"Mm, would that help? Yeah, I can distract you. Or keep you here in the moment with me, only thinking about what we're doing. Did you normally get off like this, before?"
Fingers squeeze a little tighter around the swelling length of Namjoon's cock, and he shudders. "Through my clothes?"
Yoongi huffs out a breath. "No. I meant jerking off. Spreading your legs, getting yourself hard with tight strokes of your fist... Do you like to be naked, when you do it?"
"I, uh." Namjoon pauses, swallowing, head tipping back slightly. Yoongi's gravelly voice in his ear paired with the teasing touches to his cock make it hard to think. "I guess... I'm naked if I'm in the shower, or just got out of it. But- but at night, I used to just kick my shorts down and jerk off, yeah."
"Bare," Yoongi says, and finally, finally, his fingers slide past the waistband of Namjoon's shorts, cool enough to make Namjoon's hips jump as they wrap around that heated length, "like this?"
"Yeah, bare," Namjoon agrees mindlessly. It feels good, so fucking good, but it's also undoubtedly pleasure that he has no control over. Grip too loose, too slow, too gentle. Namjoon's body strains with the tightening heat in his gut, and Yoongi's lips brush his ear, voice sending a shiver down Namjoon's spine.
"Do you usually make noise? You can. It's just us."
"I- I have been making noise, haven't I?" Namjoon grunts back, but even then, he knows it's mostly just been heavy breathing.
"Ah, well, whenever you're ready. It's hotter if you don't think about it, and the sounds just come out, right? Just focus on taking deep breaths, on any sensation that feels good right now. Even just— tensing your muscles, flexing your toes, that kind of thing. Feel it with your whole body."
Namjoon does. He closes his eyes and feels the steady build of heat with each slow stroke of Yoongi's hand, but the only sound that wants to leave his throat is a whine of frustration.
"I want more," Namjoon confesses. It sounds embarrassingly close to pleading.
Yoongi hums. "You've been good for me so far, haven't you? I think hyung can reward you now."
Namjoon bites at his lip, feeling a little dizzy when Yoongi pulls away from him, lost without the heat of him pressed solid against his back. He thinks about how rarely Yoongi refers to himself as hyung when it's just the two of them, usually saving that for the maknae. With them, it's a casual 'Here you go' instead of Yoongi's mumbled 'Hyung will treat you,' often met with Jungkook's shy smile.
Not that Namjoon minds the honorific, obviously. Namjoon joked about calling Yoongi daddy or sir, admittedly just out of nervousness, but it kind of suits what they're doing to be reminded that Yoongi is older, wiser when it comes to things like this, and it feels right to give up control to him.
"Here," Yoongi says, patting farther up the bed to indicate that he wants Namjoon up by the pillows. Namjoon goes, trying to ignore the heat that creeps into his face as Yoongi watches him crawl.
You're fine with giving up control, but this feels like too much suddenly, huh?
It's the desperation that makes it feel different, Namjoon realizes. The way he crawls and his dick bobs inside his clothes — jutting, sensitive to the rub of material at the tip, almost enough to have Namjoon wanting to reach down and touch himself just for a less teasing friction.
Yoongi's cheeks are lightly flushed too, his eyes dark. His expression isn't as soft as it was before, but not in an intimidating way. Just... serious, and maybe too calm for someone who just had his hand down his group member's shorts, squeezing around his dick.
Namjoon settles leaning back into the pillows, and Yoongi's fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and off, leaving Namjoon naked on top of the sheets.
There's a pause, a moment where Yoongi just looks, eyes dragging over Namjoon's body. Staring, like he can't quite believe the sight of Namjoon like this, naked and hard for him.
When Yoongi's tongue darts out to wet his lips, Namjoon feels that like a touch — his hard cock twitching over his lap, his breath catching quietly with a new surge of arousal.
"You look so good," Yoongi says, fingers curling around Namjoon's calves, easing his legs open slowly. Namjoon feels a punch of heat in his gut at the unexpected praise; the little thrill at being desired.
"Ah—"
"All this muscle, how you've been keeping in shape... You've been working hard and it shows."
"Hyung, c'mon, y- you don't have to—"
"Appreciate how hot you are? Your long legs, your broad chest, your strong arms, huh?" Yoongi smirks. "Namjoon-ah, I would say this even if I wasn't about to suck your dick."
A hard pulse of heat shoots down into his stomach, nearly leaving him lightheaded. Even knowing what he asked for, what helping Namjoon try to have an orgasm entails, the thought of Yoongi's mouth on his cock has Namjoon feeling stupidly overwhelmed.
He doesn't know what to say, so he simply watches when Yoongi reaches for Namjoon's wrists, fingers circling them, guiding him to stretch his arms above his head.
Yoongi's gaze seems to darken while taking in the sight, his lips parting for a moment before letting go of Namjoon's wrists again.
"Stay like that for me."
Yoongi is already moving down the bed, settling between Namjoon's legs when he finally finds his voice to ask,
"You're not going to tie me up?"
Hands grip his legs again, spreading him. Namjoon's hips tilt slightly as Yoongi pulls his thighs open until Namjoon is leaning farther back, nearly horizontal on the bed, a persistent warmth pulsing through him at Yoongi's touches.
He never thought he'd like being manhandled this much.
"I don't really have anything to tie you up with unless you want me to use, like, my laptop cord," Yoongi says with a wry grin, "but it's also not just about restraining you. I want your arms above your head like that, and your legs wide like this..." Yoongi bends over Namjoon's body then, where he's fit himself between Namjoon's spread legs, fingers gripping the base of his thick cock.
"...just so that you feel more vulnerable."
Namjoon waits for Yoongi to elaborate, but he doesn't, his tongue already out to drag flat over the swollen head of Namjoon's cock. And as Namjoon fights the reflex to drop his head back because he doesn't want to look away, as he thinks holyshit on repeat in his head because Min fucking Yoongi is lazily tonguing at his cock, dark eyes gazing up Namjoon's body while he gives it kitten-licks—
He thinks he understands what Yoongi means, anyway.
Having his arms over his head, his legs spread open, leaves him with the hot, simmering embarrassment of being exposed. His body on display in all its neediness, nipples hard and stomach trembling, and like this, he's Yoongi's to toy with, to stare at, to give pleasure to.
Two and a half years. Two and a half goddamn years, and when Yoongi's mouth sinks wet over his cock, the pleasure of it is so unfamiliar and overwhelming, it might as well be its own small orgasm.
There's a heightened sensitivity to his cock now, where the plush, wet heat of Yoongi's tongue almost feels ticklish, but it's a feeling that Namjoon wants to arch into, and not squirm away from. It makes him pant; makes him whine helplessly as pleasure coils hot inside him.
He only just remembers to keep his arms above his head. His fingers flex restlessly, until he ends up grabbing at the edge of a pillow, stomach heaving with his shaky breaths while Yoongi's mouth bobs expertly over his hard cock.
Fuck, he really knows what he's doing. How his lips have to stretch wide for it, how his fingers squeeze at the base as he strokes, hair falling softly over his eyes, and Namjoon doesn't want to tear his gaze away from Yoongi's hollowing cheeks, but it's so hard to keep his own eyes open.
The pleasure builds. Of course it does. Even when Yoongi pulls off with a trail of spit and a shaky gasp after deepthroating, nuzzling and kissing up the wet side of Namjoon's cock, and then down to his balls, mouthing at one, then the other— the pleasure builds fast, that hot urgency that pulses in his groin. Namjoon doesn't let himself hope, but—
"You're quiet," Yoongi rasps out.
His voice is rough, Namjoon thinks frantically, from having my cock in his throat.
"If you're not going to turn that busy brain of yours off, mm, at least tell me what you're thinking about."
"Hyung," Namjoon chokes out in disbelief, fingers curling into fists, wishing now that he could reach down and sink his fingers into Yoongi's hair, just to— to have that connection with him. To have something real to hold onto. "I'm just thinking about you. About how- how it feels, fuck—"
Yoongi takes him back into his mouth, tongue always stroking at Namjoon's cock just right, throat seizing when Namjoon lifts his hips but Yoongi chokes and just takes it, unbothered except for the hitch of his shoulders, his eyes glistening wet, nose a little pinker.
His cock looks so fucking big disappearing into Yoongi's mouth, it makes Namjoon feel crazy.
He wonders if Yoongi gets anything out of this, with how good he is at it. Whether it's the satisfaction of pleasing his partner or maybe he's just into the feeling of his mouth being used.
Can he tell that Namjoon is so hard it aches?
Because— it does ache, and his body strains with that growing pressure, the heat flushing him hotter and pooling low in his belly and Namjoon starts to babble out, "Please, ah, please—" before he realizes what he's begging for.
He's not begging Yoongi to go harder or take him deeper. Yoongi's mouth already feels perfect around him.
He's begging his own body to come already. And once that realization sinks in, it's as if Namjoon can perfectly visualize the plateau — the point where the pleasure refuses to climb any higher, leaving Namjoon throbbing and frustrated, guilt creeping into his thoughts the longer it goes on.
Yoongi realizes that something is wrong only seconds later, pulling off and turning his head to cough before focusing on Namjoon, eyes bright and worried.
"Is this still okay?"
"It's—" Namjoon pauses, drawing in a shaky breath. Be honest. "It's okay, it is, but I- I don't think I can come like this. I'm sorry. I'm trying, fuck, I swear it feels so good—"
"Okay," Yoongi says, sitting up, and Namjoon's face heats with humiliation, something like shame now sitting heavy in his gut, eyes closing when he feels a burn behind them—
"Hey, no, listen to me. Namjoon-ah, look at me, sweetheart."
It's the endearment that snaps Namjoon out of sinking deeper into his guilt, his eyes blinking back open to meet Yoongi's.
Yoongi's gaze is softer, but it's not pitying. He seems to be thinking as he licks his lips and moves up the bed, easing Namjoon's arms back down to his sides, even though they weren't starting to feel numb or anything.
Yoongi's voice is his familiar murmur, but there's warmth in it, too.
"It was good that you spoke up. Hyung is proud of you."
Namjoon swallows around the lump in his throat. He lets that warmth in Yoongi's voice fill him, lets it drown out the anxiety over his struggle to come.
"I mean it," Yoongi continues. "For blowjobs, or just oral in general, I guess it can feel like that... The illusion of pressure, of me just waiting for you to come. That must add to your stress, right? It's okay if you want to do something else."
"I'm sorry," Namjoon mutters one more time, but Yoongi just shakes his head.
"Namjoon-ah. I'm in charge, right? So listen to me. This was just another thing to try, and I'm glad it felt good, but it's okay to move on, too. It's okay," he leans back, mouth twitching up at the corner with a smirk, "because I'm going to let you fuck me now."
Yoongi reaches over to the table next to his bed, grabbing a water bottle while Namjoon is left with his mouth hanging open in shock.
He feels a little stupid for being shocked. They discussed this, didn't they? But really, the way that Yoongi just announces it like it's nothing—
"Wait, h- hyung—"
"Are you thirsty?"
"I— a little," Namjoon answers, and Yoongi passes the water to him, letting Namjoon gulp some down before he takes his own drink.
It's still hard to believe that Yoongi had Namjoon's cock in his throat two minutes ago. That he's now offering something like anal sex so fucking casually, and they'll go back to making music tomorrow the way they always have — with Yoongi in his beanie and his guitar on his lap, and Namjoon staring at his notebook, reworking certain lines over and over until Taehyung or Jungkook comes to check on him.
Is it strange, that it's never once occurred to Namjoon this whole time to worry if their relationship will change after this?
Maybe that's just part of trusting Yoongi more than he feels like he can trust anyone else.
"You look like you're overthinking again," Yoongi murmurs, kneeling on the bed next to where Namjoon is now sitting up but still naked, cock still mostly hard and wet with spit where it's angled over Namjoon's belly. "Is it too much? The idea of fucking me?"
"No," Namjoon says honestly, watching Yoongi lean in closer. Slowly, but purposefully. "It's just new, between us, you know..."
"Then forget about that part of it for a second," Yoongi whispers, meeting Namjoon's eyes. "Think of it solely for how it would feel, having a tight hole around your cock. Thrusting into someone. Do you think that would feel good, Namjoon-ah?"
To his credit, Namjoon does close his eyes and imagine it the way that Yoongi wants him to, even if he knows there will be no forgetting that it's Yoongi when they're actually doing it.
"Yes," he finally says, eyes fluttering back open but not for long, because Yoongi is leaning in, closing the distance between them.
Namjoon's breath catches at the firm press of lips against his.
Yoongi kisses differently than he did twelve years ago. Of course he does.
There's over a decade of maturity between them now. Romantic and sexual experiences both good and bad; some stories shared over drinks or late-night talks asking for advice, and some kept to themselves. But Namjoon doesn't let his mind dwell on any of that for more than a second, when Yoongi tilts his head and Namjoon makes a soft noise against his mouth at the slide of Yoongi's hand cupping the back of his neck, at Yoongi's body pressing closer, until Namjoon is relaxing into the pillows again.
Doing this while nearly lying down makes it more intense, somehow. Or is it because Namjoon is already hard? He parts his lips with Yoongi's for more open kisses, reaching up to rest a hand on Yoongi's shoulder, fingers curling there almost hesitantly. It's not the shoulder, with the 7 tattoo that they so rarely get to see, but Namjoon is still careful, as if waiting for Yoongi to scold him for touching without permission.
The only sound he gets from Yoongi is a muffled groan of approval.
Fuck, it feels good. Maybe too natural to trade kisses like this, too much of a mutual pleasure for Namjoon to keep overthinking it, because he finds himself bringing Yoongi's body closer to his own, their tongues brushing, Yoongi's rough breaths against his throat when his head ducks down for a moment.
He smells good, too, now that Namjoon can actually smell him over the fading scent of lavender massage oil — like his body wash, his shampoo. Namjoon briefly imagines Yoongi getting ready for sex in the shower moments before texting him, and he wants to groan at the images that gives him.
"We could always just keep doing this," Yoongi says, voice gravelly-low before his lips close around Namjoon's. The soft, wet sounds their kisses make just tug at the heat low in Namjoon's gut, something so... so pleasantly erotic about it. "But, ah, can I say this? I think being inside me would feel better for you."
Namjoon's pulse kicks up at the reminder. "Do you, uh. Do you need help getting ready—"
"No," Yoongi says. "I'll be fine."
Namjoon goes to frown, but the effect is slightly ruined when Yoongi's lips press over his again. Maybe he was already anticipating Namjoon's concern. Between kisses, Namjoon manages to huff out, "Hyung, I know how anal works, I don't want to hurt you—"
"Namjoon-ah," Yoongi drawls, reaching down for Namjoon's wrist and then guiding his hand up, resting it over the back of his sweatpants.
Namjoon doesn't move, focused on resisting the impulse to squeeze at Yoongi's ass. And then his hand is being tugged by Yoongi's to the space between his cheeks, and when Namjoon presses there, his fingers meet something hard through the material. Suspiciously hard. Something like—
"It's a plug," Yoongi mutters, ignoring the shock on Namjoon's face and tilting his head, kissing down Namjoon's neck instead. He doesn't suck at the skin, but he laves over it with his tongue when he kisses, and pleasure surges, melting hot in Namjoon's belly.
"F- fuck."
"I just need more lube, that's all." His mouth trails lower, tongue flicking wet at a nipple, and Namjoon puffs out a shaky breath.
It's starting to build again in a way that Namjoon doesn't want to stop chasing — that growing pressure of an orgasm, a real orgasm, for the first time in years.
"Hyung," Namjoon whispers, and Yoongi lifts his head from Namjoon's chest, his gaze sharp, "is it stupid that I'm- I'm scared that after all this, it still won't work? What if I try to come and I just, I can't—"
"Then you don't come tonight, and we try something else. It's not like it has to be now or never. Hell, even if you want to find a stranger, an acquaintance, whatever, you have time for that too."
Namjoon bites back what he immediately wants to say, which is, There is no one I'd feel safer doing this with than you.
"It's not stupid to be scared," Yoongi continues, reaching down to very gently circle his fingers around Namjoon's cock, the corner of his mouth tugging up when Namjoon's hips buck with the touch. "But it's unfair to yourself to not at least try. Do you still trust me? To take care of you, but also to know what my body can handle?"
Namjoon's nod comes easily.
"Okay." Yoongi leans up, pressing one more slow kiss to Namjoon's lips before drawing back. "Now if you could just look away, ah, this part is more awkward..."
Namjoon's eyebrows furrow slightly, not sure what Yoongi means until he stands up and starts to undress.
Namjoon wouldn't call this awkward. And he certainly doesn't try to hide the fact that he isn't looking away.
Yoongi can tease them with his admiration of their muscles, but he's been working out too, just at his own pace. Broad shoulders, a lean stomach, and the trail of hair low on his belly, his hard cock bobbing up when he steps out of his pants.
He looks good. Familiar, mature only in a way where he's comfortable with his body and comfortable stripping like this around Namjoon, letting him see the paler skin of his belly and thighs — skin that's been avoiding the LA sun. His body is angled so that Namjoon can't see as he draws the plug out, but his face wrinkles up cutely with it, lips parting with a little hiss.
Namjoon's toes curl.
"Should I—"
"Stop thinking about what you should or shouldn't do," Yoongi interrupts, his voice steady, not scolding. "Just listen to me. Focus on what you feel, even now, just waiting for me."
Namjoon swallows.
What he feels?
He feels like begging just to taste Yoongi's skin. He feels like cupping Yoongi's face in his palms and kissing him again, even if kissing is a fluttering tease compared to the kind of pleasure that could make him come. He feels like— like begging for that, for his orgasm, whimpering for it until Yoongi is either so rough or so gentle with him, it happens no matter what.
Namjoon meets Yoongi's eyes, and Yoongi's breath catches at whatever he sees there.
"I'm... not going to use a condom, if that's okay."
Namjoon's cock jerks over his lap. "Y- yeah, that's fine."
Yoongi's grin is a little sharp as he crawls back onto the bed with the lube, the (sizable) plug now sitting on a tissue on the bedside table.
He straddles Namjoon's thighs. Namjoon was expecting this, as soon as Yoongi said that he wanted to be in control, but heat still rushes through him with the realization that Yoongi will be riding him.
Although Namjoon senses a subtle, nervous tension in Yoongi's posture, there's also a confidence to him like this that's mesmerizing. Maybe because seeing Yoongi this way is so new, like indulging in something that's always felt taboo in his thoughts, and yet here Yoongi is, fingers smoothing lube over Namjoon's cock, getting him ready like they've done this a dozen times before.
His grip squeezes up around the head, and Namjoon grunts. The size difference, too — in their legs, their cocks, everything — is enough to make him dizzy.
"Can- can I help?" he asks, watching Yoongi lift a little higher on his knees, his stomach clenching at the way that Yoongi handles his cock.
"No, this is good. You can touch me if you want, don't feel like you can't, but also don't worry about me. It'll feel good for me no matter what." Yoongi lets out a little hiss of a breath before he murmurs, "Namjoon-ah, you're bigger than anyone I've been with before. I thought so, sucking you off, but seeing it now, it's really..." Yoongi trails off, drawing in another sharp breath through his teeth. "Anyone you fucked in the past, ah, they should know how lucky they are."
Heat pours through Namjoon at the praise, only this time it's accompanied by a blush that creeps from the top of his scalp down to his toes. Embarrassingly, he doesn't have a response for Yoongi. Sure, he was good in bed with past partners, that just came from experience and confidence over the years.
But at the same time, he doesn't want to think about them right now. Yoongi is naked over his lap, lining Namjoon's cock up to his hole, a cute look of concentration on his face before his lips parts with a sharp gasp, and the clenching heat of Yoongi's body is suddenly enveloping Namjoon's cockhead.
The feeling is—
It's exactly what it is. A tight hole around the swollen tip of his cock, slick and squeezing, blissfully warm. And it's fucking unreal.
Namjoon doesn't ever remember being this sensitive before, every feeling heightened, from the breath he draws in to the subtle weight of Yoongi over his lap. His cock throbs needily even from this much, his balls throbbing as Yoongi lets him in slowly.
Yoongi's head ducks forward with the stretch, mouth still slack, hole twitching as he struggles to take more. It shouldn't be hot, right? It's fucked up that Namjoon finds it so hot, how he's so much for Yoongi to take, but god—
"Shit, h-hyung—"
"You're so huge, fuck," Yoongi groans, eyes squeezed shut, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
He hasn't gone soft, which is surprising, but also fills Namjoon with a small rush of relief. He wants to do more, to reach down and jerk Yoongi off even if his hyung is supposed to be the one in charge. But as soon as Yoongi starts to move, Namjoon can't get over the clinging tightness of his hole, and the blinding pleasure that comes with that friction, almost too intense to bear.
The feeling is just— hot, smooth and gripping, just slippery enough from the lube. Namjoon grabs helplessly at the sheets on either side of him and his face scrunches up as heat pools in his groin, as guilt twists hot inside him too, knowing that he must be stretching Yoongi open so wide.
"Namjoon-ah," Yoongi rasps out.
Namjoon moans. The sound is breathy, short, like it's punched out of him.
"Hey." There's a touch at the side of Namjoon's face, and he forces his eyes open, meeting Yoongi's dark gaze. Taking in the flush in his cheeks, the pink of his lips. "There you go. How does it feel?" Yoongi rocks forward, letting Namjoon's cock shift inside him with the movement, and the pleasure of that has Namjoon's fingers curling into tighter fists in the sheets.
His body tenses, muscles straining from the overwhelming pleasure. Yoongi keeps moving, keeps staring, giving Namjoon a few seconds to respond, but it's just—
It's so much.
Yoongi reaches out and grips Namjoon's chin with his fingers, holding Namjoon's gaze. This, more than anything else so far, gives Namjoon the feeling that Yoongi is in control, and there's a thrill in submitting to him, to being looked down on with so much heat, and with his cock still buried inside Yoongi, big and throbbing and needy.
Yoongi's gaze softens after a few moments, and Namjoon chokes back a whimper.
"Can you answer hyung, sweetheart, and tell me how it feels?"
A blush floods him, an almost consuming wave of heat. Distantly, Namjoon is grateful for the aircon now, when he had forgotten how fast sex gets him overheated and sweating.
"Feels so good, it's like— fuck."
"Yeah? Nice and tight for you?"
"A- ah—"
Yoongi lets go of Namjoon's chin and braces both hands on his chest, letting Namjoon take some of his weight as he rides him. The pressure, the feeling of being pushed into the mattress is— so grounding, so connected and safe, the way Namjoon's mind blanks out as Yoongi moves over his cock.
"Yeah, there you go. Love to hear you moan, be as loud as you want, hyung's got you. Just— focus on the pleasure, you're doing so well for me."
It's somehow exactly what he needs to hear. Namjoon drops his head back and feels tears squeeze out of the corners of his eyes, but it's pure relief, because it does feel good. It feels fucking perfect, even when it's frustrating — how Yoongi isn't speeding up, how his fingers graze Namjoon's nipples but don't pinch like before, and all that runs through Namjoon's mind is, Would that be enough? If he pinched, would I just start coming, would it be over just like that?
"So hot," Yoongi grits out. There's a look of desperation to him now too, a wildness behind his eyes. Paired with the rosy flush in his cheeks, Namjoon feels a rush of possessiveness that he gets to see Yoongi this way, that it's his cock dragging at Yoongi's walls while his face scrunches in pleasure from it.
"You're so hot underneath me like this, letting me use your big cock, huh, making hyung feel good?"
Warmth pools in his groin, and Namjoon's body strains, hips trying to lift to meet Yoongi's ass. "Fuck, p- please—"
"Yeah?"
"Hyung," Namjoon gasps out, like he's drowning with the pleasure, but there's that small flash of fear that comes with sinking, and worrying that he'll be stuck there.
He needs release. He needs it.
"Namjoon-ah," Yoongi says in a rough voice, leaning down until their lips meet in a hard kiss, bruising, panting into each other's mouths. "Stop holding back."
Namjoon blinks when his vision blurs with more tears. "I'm not- not trying to—"
"No, that's not what hyung means." Yoongi stills, resting his forehead against Namjoon's, just breathing for a moment. He lifts a hand to brush away the tears that have leaked down Namjoon's cheeks. "Don't hold back. I'm going to- to climb off you, okay, but I want you to be on top. I want you to fuck me into the bed like that, as hard and fast as you need, without stopping. I need you to do that for me, to try, okay?"
Oh. Oh, he can—
Namjoon doesn't wait until Yoongi climbs off of him. He thinks that maybe, from the way Yoongi holds onto his arms, his hyung wasn't ever expecting him to.
He pulls Yoongi's body down to his own and wraps a strong arm around his back as he flips their positions, Yoongi's back hitting the mattress, and the angle is awkward just for a moment, figuring out where limbs go, but somehow his cock never slips out of Yoongi's body.
"Fuck," Yoongi says with a groan, and Namjoon pauses, lips pressing to Yoongi's forehead as his legs bend and spread around Namjoon's thighs, as it brings their hips closer, letting Namjoon sink deeper inside, his balls tightening with the renewed need to come.
It slams into him, the force of that need, enough that Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut with the dizziness.
"Okay?" Namjoon whispers against Yoongi's flushed cheek after a few moments.
"Yeah, yes." As if Namjoon needed more reassurance, Yoongi huffs out a laugh, angling his face to meet Namjoon's lips in another hard kiss. "Yeah, I'm okay. Fuck me, Namjoon-ah."
So Namjoon lets go.
Body covering Yoongi's, leaning down close, nearly lying on top of him; Yoongi's ass tilted up and his cock bouncing over his belly; the loud clap of fast thrusts, sweating skin on skin, but it's good, it's perfect, how the heat of Yoongi's body just takes him.
Opening for him, welcoming him, and the way the pleasure builds—
Namjoon's eyes fill with more tears. The desperation can't be put into words.
It's years of frustration. Longing, confusion, grief, self-doubt, self-rediscovery. It's Namjoon pushing his own needs aside and surviving and overthinking and relearning freedom, creation, clinging to every small happiness, to every definition of love. Clinging to life.
It's desire, the whole spectrum of tenderness and safety and trust, to feral, animal need, to the throbbing pressure that's built up and the rippling heat, the messy plunge of his cock, the moans gasped out with short breaths.
It's Yoongi, and the memory of inexperienced kisses twelve years ago, but also the Yoongi of now, especially now.
Yeah, Yoongi tells him, voice soft in comparison to the protesting mattress, with how hard Namjoon thrusts now, yeah, sweetheart, let go, just let go—
Between one slamming thrust and the next, Namjoon hiccups out a sob and starts to come.
It's pleasure, but not just that. It's the greatest release he could imagine. His whole being is consumed by the orgasm — muscles locking up, body straining and then the rushing, pumping relief, spreading through his groin and all over his body like honey, like the sweetest flood of warmth, leaving him both heavy and light with that bliss.
Somewhere in the back of Namjoon's dazed mind, he can only compare the intensity of it to dying. To being reborn.
His hips thrust down jerkily to work himself through it, cock twitching and spilling deep into the snug heat of Yoongi's hole, and Yoongi just holds him close and murmurs praises in a hoarse voice, letting Namjoon bury his hitching sobs into the side of Yoongi's neck.
There is no grief in the tears that leak wet against Yoongi's skin, but only relief. Pure giddiness, as Namjoon's breaths shudder and then start to calm, body going lax, utterly wrung out from his orgasm.
He's spent. He really is.
But Yoongi hasn't come yet.
Namjoon doesn't really think when he starts to thrust wetly back into Yoongi's hole, fucking his cum deeper. His shaking fingers circle the swollen cock that strains between their bodies, that's been smearing wet over Yoongi's stomach, precum still clinging to the tip.
"Nam—" Yoongi cuts off, hissing, but it's not a hiss of pain. "You don't have to—"
"Let me," Namjoon rasps. His cock feels raw inside Yoongi now, the overstimulation a different kind of prickling heat down his spine, pleasure with a sharper edge, but he feels— more human, this time. His mind is clearer, less selfishly driven.
He adjusts the angle of his thrusts until Yoongi is squeezing up around him, breath stuttering with his moan, and Namjoon fucks fast like that, jerking Yoongi off at the same time.
"Fuck," Yoongi gasps, cheeks so red, eyes glassy, body jolting with Namjoon's thrusts. "Fuck, fuck, that's it, shit—"
Yoongi's back arches, his legs locking around Namjoon's hips. His muscles clamp up tight around Namjoon's cock as he comes, head thrown back and hole squeezing Namjoon through it, spasm after spasm, his release spurting wet over Namjoon's fist between them.
He looks and sounds and feels so hot to Namjoon, his gasps and whimpers, the flushed stretch of his throat and his short fingernails biting into Namjoon's back—
Namjoon's head ducks down, his own teeth digging into Yoongi's shoulder when his cock jerks with a few more weak spurts of cum — a less intense second orgasm, but one that still has him shuddering with the flooding pleasure, heartbeat thumping loud in his ears.
His cock slips out of Yoongi so he can collapse next to him on the bed. He's unprepared for the way that Yoongi rolls over, though, just to bring their lips together over and over again.
Once Namjoon registers Yoongi's words, he starts to smile between the kisses.
"So" wet smack "fucking" smack "proud of you. How do you feel now? You—" Yoongi kisses him again, softer. "You were crying, but they didn't seem like they were sad tears."
"They weren't," Namjoon says, letting out a shaky sigh. He doesn't feel sore, not really, he has no reason to. But emotionally? He feels like he was hit by a truck.
And then rescued. And given mouth-to-mouth. And then given some really good drugs.
Min Yoongi, I think you've broken me.
"I feel exhausted, and really fucking good," Namjoon answers in a rough voice, breathless from all the kisses that Yoongi keeps giving him. His affection in the afterglow leaves Namjoon with a feeling that's just that — glowing, shivering in contentment, the haze of pleasure still clouding his thoughts.
"You came, then."
It's not exactly phrased like a question, but Namjoon still barks out a surprised laugh. "Hyung. You know I did. I- I filled you twice, c'mon..."
For whatever reason, Namjoon feels himself start to blush. Yoongi just hums, reaching across Namjoon's body, reaching off the side of the bed, and Namjoon follows his gaze and thinks, No fucking goddamn way—
Yoongi's fingers close around the plug.
Namjoon swallows, heat tugging low in his gut as he watches Yoongi's hand disappear behind himself, watches his lips part with a shaky exhale as he works the plug back inside himself, apparently slick enough from the cum trailing out of his hole to take it.
"Why—"
"To make it easier, doing the walk of shame to the bathroom later to clean up," Yoongi murmurs, although there's a too-bright glint to his eyes that has Namjoon wondering if maybe Min Yoongi is just a little bit of a freak. Not that Namjoon is judging, when it makes his spent cock twitch.
(Namjoon also regrets now that he never asked Yoongi to fill out his own version of that sex list he gave Namjoon at the restaurant, to learn what Yoongi is into.)
"Okay, but seriously," Yoongi says, wiping his hands off on another tissue and then settling back beside Namjoon, mouth tugging up at the corner when Namjoon easily wraps Yoongi up in his arms. "How did it feel, after so long? Was- was it what you hoped for, or was it too overwhelming...?"
Namjoon lets out a slow breath, dropping his head back on the pillow. He's a little chilly like this, now that the sweat has started to cool on their skin, but he just uses that as an excuse to hold Yoongi closer.
"It was overwhelming, yeah, but... not in a bad way. I mean, it had to be intense, right? After so long. Remembering what real pleasure feels like, when it's someone else's touch. Or, uh."
"Someone else's mouth?" Yoongi supplies, eyebrows lifting. "Or ass?"
"Yeah, yeah." Namjoon huffs out a short laugh. He lets his fingers slide up to brush through Yoongi's hair, just petting there, giddy and restless enough to want to keep touching him. "Ah, I really didn't mean to start crying... but it was a lot. And- and the relief, too, after realizing that I was still capable of feeling pleasure like that." Namjoon pauses, swallowing around a lump in his throat. "That I wasn't broken."
Yoongi's gaze softens before he turns his head, resting it on Namjoon's shoulder. "You should've said something. I would have told you that you're not broken."
"I know." He wouldn't have believed Yoongi, but he does know that his hyung would've tried to reassure him anyway.
"What you went through, all that stress and uncertainty, the weight that you had to bear. And, god, I hate even just calling it 'stress.' You know what it was like. Before enlisting, and during. But you were strong. You made it through, and that's what matters."
Namjoon's throat tightens.
"You even created something amazing out of it, right? Your last album. What we're doing with this album. Namjoon-ah, everything you had to deal with..." Yoongi cuts off, letting out his own shaky breath, and Namjoon is glad he's not the only one affected right now. "You did well. You can't blame yourself if it fucked with your body's ability to relax, to feel pleasure, for a while. But I'm glad this worked."
"Thank you," Namjoon whispers, voice hoarse with what feels like the effort to not start crying again. "And hyung, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for treating you like a therapist—"
"Would you have done the same for me? If I came to you with the same problem?"
"I—" Namjoon pauses, and then he meets Yoongi's eyes. "If I couldn't think of another way to help, then yeah. If- if you had asked? I would've said yes in a heartbeat, and only worried whether I'd be enough for you or not."
Yoongi hums. "That's not something you ever have to worry about. In- in any situation, ah, can I say this?" he mutters to himself, suddenly looking bashful. "Kim Namjoon, you are always enough."
"Hyung," Namjoon breathes out.
Yoongi blinks, jaw tensing for a moment. "You look like you want to kiss me."
It's a pretty blunt thing to say, but Namjoon just laughs. "I do."
"Hmm."
"Hyung..."
"Let me ask one more time," Yoongi says softly, gently. "Do you feel okay now?"
Namjoon nods, assuming that Yoongi is asking more in terms of the emotional relief. He lets himself grin before he says, "Hyung wasn't nearly as kinky as I thought he'd be, from his list."
Something seems to catch Yoongi off-guard, whether it's the honorific or maybe just the mention of the list. His eyes widen a little, tongue darting out to wet his lips, which isn't the response that Namjoon was expecting from his teasing.
"Yeah, well. Do you want that? We don't, uh, if you want—" Yoongi cuts off, the uncertainty written all over his face, and Namjoon feels a punch of heat when he realizes what Yoongi is referencing. What has him looking more nervous than his usual quiet confidence right now.
Namjoon thinks that he already knows the answer, but he asks anyway, because he wants to hear Yoongi say it.
"If I want what?"
"If you want to do this again," Yoongi murmurs. "This doesn't have to be the only time."
"You're serious."
Yoongi lets out a little hiss, weakly slapping his hand down on Namjoon's chest. Can he feel the way that Namjoon's heartrate has picked up? Probably not.
"Yah, of course I'm serious."
"There's no one else, I mean—" Namjoon has to pause just to organize his thoughts, his words fumbling. "It wouldn't be getting in the way of anything else you have going on, if we did more...?"
Yoongi doesn't quite smile, but his eyes soften as he stares at Namjoon. "No. I wouldn't have done this if that was the case, if I was thinking about anyone else now or in the near future. But either way, it's only you."
It's amazing, how light Namjoon's chest can feel from those words, even more than two orgasms and lazy kisses in the aftermath. It's maybe the best feeling, actually, after two orgasms and lazy kisses.
"I- I don't know if I'm ready to be a stepdad, though."
Yoongi's eyebrows furrow. "What?"
"You know." Namjoon starts grinning, he can't help it. "When we get back to Korea and you pick Tangie up from your parents' house, I don't know, it's a lot of responsibility—"
Yoongi shuts him up with a kiss.
Namjoon doesn't mind. The joke was kind of corny anyway.
"When you're ready," Yoongi whispers against Namjoon's lips, shifting slightly, and Namjoon feels another little tug of heat, remembering that Yoongi still wears the plug, keeping Namjoon's cum inside him. Now Namjoon wants to revisit that kink list even more. "There's no rush for any of this."
"Is, uh." Namjoon's eyes flutter closed briefly when Yoongi's mouth presses to his again. "Is in the shower right after this too soon, then?"
Yoongi squints at him, like he's trying to figure out if Namjoon is serious. Namjoon can only imagine how his grin looks to Yoongi — a little guilty, a little hopeful. A little bit pleading.
Yoongi hisses. "Your stamina is really like that, huh?"
"Hyung," Namjoon complains in a low voice, "it's been years..."
"Is it the sensitivity, then?" A hand slides between them, fingers pinching at a nipple, and Namjoon lets out a stuttered moan. "Hmmm."
"Just—" But Namjoon doesn't finish. He doesn't really have anything to say to defend himself. He meets Yoongi's eyes, and what he ends up blurting out is,
"I love you."
Yoongi's eyes widen, and then his face settles into an expression that Namjoon could only describe as smug, handsome again in that mature way that gives Namjoon goosebumps.
"I love you too. And you're not just saying that so I'll let you feel me up when we're in the shower...?"
"No?" Namjoon tries.
Yoongi laughs. "Yahh, you're hopeless. Well, I can't blame you. My ass tends to do that to people..."
"But hyung, I love all of you, not just your ass," Namjoon insists, although he reaches down to squeeze at one of Yoongi's bare cheeks when he says it, just to be a brat. Just because he can, and he likes the way that Yoongi feels under his hands.
Yoongi grunts. "Good to know. Should we go shower then, before the kids get home?"
Namjoon nods. He doesn't want to hide what he and Yoongi (tentatively) have going on, not really, although that's a discussion that he'll have to have with Yoongi first. But the others can be so damn nosy sometimes, as if making up for the years of not living on top of each other. It'll save them both a lot of teasing if they're not caught showering together.
Yoongi gets out of bed first, grabbing his sweatpants to tug back on, but when it's Namjoon's turn to put his feet on the floor and stand, he wobbles. His unsteady legs give out underneath him and Yoongi catches him, startled, mouth dropping open for a moment.
And then Yoongi laughs, eyes curving, gums on display.
Namjoon's cheeks heat with embarrassment, head ducking down. "Ah..."
"That good, huh?" Yoongi asks with a smirk, and Namjoon could try to save his pride, maybe, but— why? Yoongi helped him do what Namjoon couldn't do on his own for years. It's praise that's well-earned, if anything.
"Honestly? Yeah," Namjoon answers. "It was that good."
And it's worth it to see Yoongi's shoulders lift, chest puffing before helping Namjoon into his own shorts.
Once they're decent enough to go out in the hallway, Yoongi's fingers slide from Namjoon's wrist down to thread their fingers together, still holding his hand on their way to the nearest bathroom. Namjoon doesn't feel that unsteady on his feet anymore, but he likes the way that Yoongi's hand feels in his.
He likes that he can turn to Yoongi once they're inside the bathroom and kiss him, and let his hands settle over Yoongi's hips. He likes hearing Yoongi's breaths, likes that he gives as good as he gets when it comes to kissing, and he likes how obvious their size difference feels standing together like this—
Yoongi breaks the kiss, huffing out a quiet laugh against Namjoon's cheek. "Your dick is actually poking me again, you weren't kidding about your stamina, huh? Ah, this punk..."
Yoongi doesn't seem too upset about it, though, when Namjoon is crowding up behind him in the shower, the plug left on the counter so there's nothing to stop Namjoon from pressing back inside. Yoongi's sharp hiss at the stretch pulses heat right down to Namjoon's groin.
He doesn't seem upset at all when Namjoon fucks him up against the wall until he's coming with a weak bite to the back of Yoongi's shoulder, a kiss brushed over his tattoo. Namjoon drops down to his knees to suck Yoongi off, and hears no complaints about his stamina as Yoongi is shuddering through his orgasm, and Namjoon is left with prickling pleasure from how tightly Yoongi was gripping his hair.
(Namjoon does feel a little guilty when Yoongi is sore the next day, but he makes it up to him with a back rub and more kisses, with quiet talk about music and about each other, and then Yoongi's shy, blushing grin when Hoseok asks them how last night went.
Good, is all Yoongi says, crossing his arms over his chest when Namjoon chimes in his agreement.)