Chapter Text
[ moodboard by ponyo ]
If someone were to ask Yoongi how he got here, bent over a toilet in a less than nice club with a man who was not his boyfriend fucking him, he wouldn’t know what to say. Or how to explain. It started as all great love stories do: a few stolen glances, an accidental brush of hands or thighs when seated too close, the build-up of tension that eventually resulted in clothes flying and screamed out versions of one another’s names. Yes, it started as all great love stories do. Except, of course, that Yoongi had a boyfriend.
He wanted to say it was an accident. That he didn’t mean to. But he wasn’t cruel enough to do so. You couldn’t just accidentally have sex with someone and you certainly couldn’t sneak around for months doing it over and over and over. So, no, it wasn’t an accident. It was a mistake though. Yoongi knew that. And yet, he kept coming back. Kept throwing himself into someone else’s arms while his boyfriend trusted him and loved him and did absolutely nothing wrong. Because he never could. Hoseok was good and lovely and perfect. There was nothing about him that Yoongi didn’t like. He was everything he’d ever wanted: a best friend and soulmate and lover all wrapped into one.
And yet.
And yet, Yoongi was currently crying around the shirt that had been shoved into his mouth in order to keep him quiet as he was relentlessly fucked. It was dirty and terrible and they were in public but Yoongi loved it. Thrived on it. As much as he hated himself, he couldn’t stop. Not when he heard the door open and people come in. Not when he heard Hoseok’s voice over the din. Not even when he heard his own name:
“Jungkook, have you seen Yoongi-hyung?”
Thirty Minutes Prior:
“Awe, hyung! Come on, dance with me!” Jungkook whined, throwing himself on the table with a large pout.
Hoseok laughed, rubbing his hair vigorously. “I will later. Right now I just want to relax.”
“Who are you, Yoongi-hyung!? Since when are you in a club and not dancing?”
“Since I’m acting as Jimin’s very gracious wingman,” Hoseok explained, winking at Jungkook as he tilted his head towards Jimin, who was watching someone with an almost predatory gaze.
“I’m trying not to be offended here,” Yoongi commented, swirling his drink. “Absolutely no defense from my supposed boyfriend.”
Snorting, Hoseok turned towards Yoongi and rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Defense for what? You don’t dance and you do want to relax.”
Yoongi frowned, ignoring the way Jungkook’s eyes sharpened the second Hoseok leaned into him, and muttered, “Not like anyone asked.”
“Oh?” Jungkook asked, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Can you dance with me Yoongi?”
“Ooooop,” Hoseok snickered, “he went and dropped the honourifics, it’s on now.”
Narrowing his eyes, Yoongi leaned forward, forcing Hoseok to move. “Is that a challenge?”
“Only if you’re up to it, old man,” Jungkook returned, still smiling.
“Oh my god, just go. I can feel the tension from here,” Hoseok insisted, waving his hands. “Go show him you actually have rhythm, hyung. Make me proud.”
Clearly victorious, Jungkook jumped up and held out his hand to Yoongi, who looked at it before flicking his eyes up towards Jungkook, the warning clear. “Come on, you got permission and everything!”
“Only because you’re a brat,” Yoongi said with a sigh before he grabbed Jungkook’s hand and let the younger man pull him deep into the dance floor. He glanced back once, only to see Hoseok wink at him before returning his attention to Jimin. A few seconds later their table disappeared from view and Yoongi was pulled into Jungkook’s arms. He stiffened and turned so he could see over his shoulder. “Kook, be careful. What if he sees?”
“He can’t,” Jungkook promised, his hands sliding down Yoongi’s waist and settling on his hips. “I made sure before I touched you.”
Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes as a million emotions battered him. Guilt. Shame. Disgust. Desire. Thrill. Hunger. He hated how quickly he shifted to those emotions but he could never stop himself. Sometimes, just to make himself feel better, he told himself it was Jungkook’s fault. But it wasn’t. He was just as bad. Just as eager. And he showed that in the way he pushed his ass back, grinding against Jungkook in a less than platonic way. Jungkook hissed, his fingers tightening as he buried his face in Yoongi’s neck, his nose and lips trailing up towards Yoongi’s ear before he bit down gently. “That was a nasty trick.”
“Hmm? Trick? What trick? I was just showing you I have rhythm, right?” Yoongi said, beginning to move his hips and body to the beat of the song. He wasn’t stupid. He knew this was a dangerous game. Hoseok was within distance. He could see. But Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from pressing harder, from moving in a way he knew would make Jungkook hard. It was a mistake. A mistake, a mistake, a mistake. But Yoongi reveled in it. In the way Jungkook’s breath would hitch. The way his arms would tighten around his middle. The way he’d whisper dirty things into his ear as he pressed his hard dick against Yoongi’s ass, ever eager.
And, most importantly, the way Jungkook would inevitably whisper into Yoongi’s ear asking him to hide away with him in a dark corner. That excited him the most. Even when he knew he should say no but said yes anyway.
Present:
Right. That’s how this all started. Hoseok innocently spurring them on with no idea what was about to happen. How could he know? Why would he even suspect? Yoongi would never hurt Hoseok.
And yet.
“F-fuck,” Yoongi moaned, the shirt falling from his lips. “God, please don’t stop.”
Jungkook smiled sharply behind him as he reached forward and grabbed Yoongi’s neck, hauling him up until his back was pressed against Jungkook’s chest. The new angle just made Yoongi more vocal, but Jungkook slapped a hand on his mouth just in time. He’d heard the door open, of course he did, but he didn’t care. All he’d wanted was for Jungkook to fuck him until he was a sobbing mess.
“Jungkook, have you seen Yoongi-hyung?”
Suddenly everything stopped. The movement of Jungkook’s hips as he slammed home one final time and froze, Yoongi’s breath stuttered and stopped, his eyes wide and fear filled. Jungkook turned Yoongi’s head so they could make eye contact and they both showed the same levels of guilt and fear.
“I know you’re, um, busy,” Hoseok continued, coughing a bit, “but you left him on the dance floor and now I can’t find him.”
Letting go of the breath he’d been holding, Jungkook rested his forehead on the back of Yoongi’s head. “He said something about it being too crowded before I, um, got distracted. Maybe he went upstairs to the private bar?”
“He does hate crowds,” Hoseok agreed, clearly contemplating that.
“I’m sure he’ll come back down when he feels more comfortable,” Jungkook added, self-hatred squeezing tightly in his stomach as lied once again to Hoseok. He hated this, hated lying, but he couldn’t let go of Yoongi so here he was, lying again.
“You’re right. Um, sorry to interrupt,” Hoseok said, coughing again, “and sorry to whoever you have in there. Have fun?”
“God, hyung,” Jungkook whined, seconds away from crying.
“Sorry, sorry,” Hoseok said on a laugh, his voice fading as the music got louder then suddenly became muffled again as the door closed.
Moving quickly, Jungkook pulled back and peeked outside the stall, the movement shifting him inside Yoongi and causing a groan. Once he was sure Hoseok was gone, Jungkook pulled out entirely and grabbed Yoongi, spinning him until he slammed against the stall wall. Without pause, he hefted him up and slid back in, Yoongi’s back arching at the surprising change of position.
“That was fucking close,” Jungkook hissed, his movements harsh and angry now. Yoongi nodded, his hair bouncing with the punishing pace. He’d gone soft when he’d heard Hoseok’s voice, but Jungkook was quickly fixing that, his attention focused solely on his prostate until Yoongi was once again sobbing, begging for release. “Why do you make me do this?”
“I-I d-don’t,” Yoongi denied, shaking his head. “Jungkook, please!”
“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed, wrapping his hand around the dick he’d had the forethought to cover with a condom. “You close, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Yoongi chanted, his voice breaking as Jungkook stroked him in time with his thrusts. “I’m going to— ah!”
Jungkook rode it out, thrusting shallowly while Yoongi shuddered against him. When Yoongi tapped his shoulder, he pulled out, letting Yoongi sink to his knees in front of him. Yoongi looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and sealed his lips around Jungkook’s aching cock. It didn’t take long, the feeling of being buried in Yoongi and then the wet heat of Yoongi’s throat was too much. With a hand buried in Yoongi’s hair, Jungkook thrust into his mouth a few times, then spilled down his throat. “Fuck, baby.”
Lapping up all he could, Yoongi finally pulled away and collapsed back against the stall wall again, careful not to actually sit on the floor. He looked up at Jungkook, his eyes glazed with post-orgasm bliss but also shame. “We can’t do this again. We can’t.”
“I know,” Jungkook agreed, his heart breaking. He wasn’t this type of person. He wasn’t. The problem was he loved Yoongi, had from the first moment he’d met him, and he’d do anything to be near him. Even if it meant hurting one of his best friends. “I know, hyung.”