Work Text:
at first, he was just another pretty face.
yoongi has seen many of them.
like that singer he featured in one of his tracks, the young designer from his team that is always a little late, his close friend in front of whom he would never admit it, and even though it is true that he doesn't really like the music industry, only because everything feels too fake, manufactured, he can't lie that he met a lot of idols that were genuinely nice and pretty.
so, it doesn't come as a surprise or with any astonishing reaction from yoongi when he sees the boy walk past his table, towards the small stage from where now the previous person who sang an off-key ballad was stepping off.
it is a downtown bar, lowkey and not too loud, things yoongi always appreciates, it also has an open karaoke with a decent size platform in front, sometimes there would be a band to perform, sometimes the people, customers can choose and sing their preferred songs, entertaining others along the way. the atmosphere is always friendly and alive.
the hollering and shouts ringing behind yoongi’s back gets louder following the boy all the way to the stage, he looks fairly young, maybe around in his early twenties, yoongi notices, before slicing a piece of the half-eaten steak in his plate.
namjoon keeps talking about his mixtape and some beats he wanted yoongi to listen to, things he wants to have the approval of while yoongi just nods to his words, chewing. only paying half attention.
his eyes flicker back to where the boy is stepping up on the stage, yoongi likes to think he is an observing person, a habit that came to him when he listened more than participated when he became the only audience to watch the world’s drama play out in front him, hence, it is so easy for him to catch on the constant fidget of the boy’s fingers, playing with each other, hesitant movement, face full of color when all the eyes turn to look at him.
the boy’s shy nature is so obvious to yoongi, no matter how hard he is trying to cover it.
yoongi wonders what made him go up on that platform and be the center of all the attention.
the thought lasts barely for seconds and soon is forgotten when namjoon interrupts yoongi’s trance of scrutiny asking him if he would like another beer, it is namjoon’s treat, so yoongi inclines, going back to look at the stage, an awkward boy standing in the middle, trying to blend in, but it is a vain attempt when he stands out so much, so blatantly.
yoongi is not interested per se, just curious to see what the boy would perform.
as a musician, yoongi likes to grasp and learn other people's take and views on music.
staring at the purple oversized hoodie that drowns the boy’s body in its flowy self like a big cloud, and his left feet placed slightly behind the right one, the tip touching the other’s back, body postured so daintily that it is almost endearing, yoongi thinks he would perform a ballad too, or maybe a pop song.
the people from earlier cheers one more time, probably the guy's friends, before the music or well the instrumental started playing.
yoongi is halfway on his way to raise the glass of beer to his lips when the music plays and he recalls the familiarity of it, it sounds so close and well known, as if he has heard it before, too many times.
until it hits him.
it is an instrumental of agust d’s song, it is his song.
of course, it sounds so familiar, he has invested so much of his time to perfect it, the beginning, the bass, how it picks up the pace, and the electric guitar, he could recall recording that too so clearly.
wide-eyed, yoongi turns to stare at the boy, much like everyone present in that bar and gone is the shy boy with flushed cheeks, it’s like someone else has taken over him because he is singing, no rapping to agust d’s song.
the lyrics are fast, but it is not the fact that the boy keeps up with it so well, it's the way he does it that has yoongi frozen and entranced in his seat.
it is an explicit song, yoongi never held himself back from freely expressing his emotions and feelings in words, putting them in songs and rapping it harshly for the whole world to hear, demanding attention.
but boy oh boy, especially the boy in front, yoongi cannot believe that he is rapping the filthy lyrics on top of his lungs, lyrics with swear words in between every three syllables, talking about all the art in the world, music, poetry, literature, paintings, even sex, everything art, yoongi tried to convey it in his songs, especially after coming out.
and now hearing that pretty boy with the pretty hoodie, matching the flow of lyrics with the instrumental so perfectly, his voice a little breathy, not trained enough for proper rap, rosy lips so sinfully giving yoongi’s words another meaning, it is a surprise that yoongi didn’t pop a boner right there.
but, there is something else about the boy too, oddly captivating, that yoongi forgets about everyone around him and gets up from his seat, as if a sailor being lured by a siren to his doom.
but then a hand comes upon his knee, pressing it down, yoongi’s movement halts, going to look at the culprit. namjoon shakes his head with a warning look, something not foreign as he says,
“don’t do something stupid.”
namjoon motions around at the people and yoongi huffs, sitting back down on the damn chair, helplessly. he like his career, like how acceptable everyone is of his other identity, his alter ego, he loves being agust d, challenging his demons and the world with the sword he wields in the form of music, but, somedays, he wishes things were a little different.
like today.
because as he watches the boy finish his song with a big grin on his brightened up face, everyone crowds around him and cheer, shock, happy, just full of buzzing energy, yoongi wishes he could do it too, wishes people wouldn’t act so differently with him, just because he happens to be famous.
namjoon is paying the bill and yoongi takes that opportunity to sneak a glance towards the boy’s direction, huddled in a booth with his friends, arms wrapped around his shoulder, loud voices, talking, yoongi wish he could at least ask his name, something, anything, yoongi just wants a piece, a souvenir to remember the evening.
and suddenly, an idea snaps in his mind when a waitress passes by, he doesn't waste a single second before calling her over and giving her direction and the money. all she has to do is give a drink paid by yoongi to the boy and she nods.
biting his lip, maybe a little nervous, yoongi watches the waitress walk in the direction of the table where he is, she places the glass down on the table, leans in to say something to the boy, and yoongi’s breath hitches, when the boy, finally, finally, looks from across the bar directly at him.
he may have been just another pretty face.
but yoongi definitely won't forget it so easily, neither that ungodly good voice.
he looks at yoongi and yoongi ducks his head, feigning an act of fixing his cap, thankful that he has already pulled up the mask over his face, he cannot risk being acknowledged, not by the boy, not by anyone. he hears namjoon call his name from the entrance, so stealing a quick last glance of a very pretty face, yoongi leaves that place feeling a gaze burning on the back of his jacket.
it happens again.
then again.
by the third week when yoongi strolls inside the dimly lit bar, namjoon comments he has gotten a crush with a teasing chuckle, yoongi would beg to differ, he doesn’t have a crush, he’d think he is too old for that, maybe, but he is intrigued, there is surely something about the young guy that never fails to grasp yoongi’s attention, something forbiddingly sweet.
it is in the way he always looks so bashful before he steps on the stage and grabs the mic like the biggest award, how he sings the usually frowned upon lyrics with the most honeyed voice, he knows how to stir something inside yoongi without even trying to, yoongi is a weak weak weak man, he never stood a chance against that beautiful boy with an angelic voice.
it has become a routine of a sort, that guy, yoongi still doesn't know his name, would come to the bar around late weekend evenings, with his friends always by his side and while they place their orders, the guy makes his way through agust d’s discography with ease, performing songs as if his own, pouring it out from the bottom of his heart, not knowing about yoongi watching his performance from the distance, hidden well in the crowd.
at first, it's a coincidence.
then it is not.
yoongi thinks about namjoon’s comment sometimes, as he rushes out of his studio, always on time, always a little earlier than the boy, and drives to the bar, alone when none of his friends would join him, it is a routine for him too.
something like an unspoken rule, maybe a never made promise, he sits at the table farthest away, but not enough to not catch the pretty guy, at the perfect angle to look at the stage and lose himself for few minutes in between the beats he spent nights making but was never hypnotized by them that way before and after when the boy finishes the song with a shy smile that curls into a big grin, when his cheeks would warm with a red tint, it is time for yoongi to leave, but every time he does, he always makes sure to buy a drink for the singer and have the waitress deliver it to him.
and it never goes unnoticed, yoongi never misses it, the questioning gaze lingering on him shy at the edges, how the boy looks at him, as if wanting to say something, as if to approach yoongi, but he never does and yoongi is not sure if he is thankful or disappointed, something bittersweet, something that tastes even worse.
and just like that, always with a goodbye that is never said, yoongi leaves the bar, heart still ringing with the boy’s notes.
it goes on like that for a while.
until one day, things take a turn.
for the worst or the better. no one actually knows.
yoongi is at his usual seat, lost inside his head repeating the day’s exhausting events, words, and conversation with his peers that blend together until they feel like a foreign language and the bar is still bustling, people still talk, friends still laughed and yoongi still waits.
keeps waiting.
for a boy to come and light up his dull life even for a few musical moments.
when a door opened and footsteps echoes, when new voices enter the closeted space, yoongi looks up as he has been doing for the past few minutes, anticipating, holding his breath, searching for a familiar figure and he is a little disappointed when he doesn’t see it, but, the old couple moves out of his vision and there he is, yoongi lets out a sigh relief.
but, the relief doesn't last long, instead, a frown comes up on yoongi’s face when he sees the boy alone, and during the past many weeks yoongi had never seen him alone, he is always with his friends, talking, smiling.
he is not with his friends today.
he is not smiling either.
yoongi wonders why that certain observation makes his stomach drop like the way it does when the intro of a horror movie ends, or when he finds that the very important drive he placed on the table is not there anymore.
it is a moment of sheer panic as if his brain stops functioning.
hands tucked inside the pocket of his bomber jacket, yoongi tilts his head, watching the boy make his way towards his usual table and just flop down. that’s all he does. just sits there, unmoving, staring at the empty table, face blank, but eyebrows furrowed, but eyes glaring, but lips pouting.
but a little sad.
yoongi doesn't really know what to do, it is clear that the boy will not sing today, and any other day yoongi would’ve gotten up from his seat and left, seeing that the thing he is always there for is not happening, but that’s the thing, it is not any other day, it is today, it is the moment that yoongi realizes he likes the smile on the young boy’s face, so radiating and full of life, reminds yoongi of his younger and more carefree days and maybe that’s what forces yoongi to take out his phone and send an emergency text to his friends, or he can blame it on that.
yoongi [ 8:45] : quick what do college kids like when they are down?
lips caught between his teeth, yoongi stares at the text so hard as it would answer itself, before glancing at the boy sneakily, thankful that he is still there, before realizing how he is acting like a stalker at this point.
yoongi [8:45] : quick what do college kids like when they are feeling down?
seokjin [8:49] : idk been a while since i left college
hoseok [8:49] : who are u trying to impress?
taehyung [8:50] : money
namjoon [8:51] : you never been to college hyung?
quickly yoongi turns off his phone, not bothering to reply to his friends, if he is being honest, he expected nothing less than that from them, but there’s so much stubborn hope in the human heart and he really hoped that they would help him, maybe it's yoongi who just doesn't know how to do anything right.
from the corner of his eyes, yoongi catches the waitress walk over to the boy’s table, who is sitting like a statue, unmoving, so far away, yoongi wants to reach out, wants to go and ask about the troubles haunting him, what is going through his head that sucks the liveliness out of him, what is the reason that doesn't let his pink lips form even a single smile, he wants to ask the boy what is it that makes yoongi want to care so much.
the boy shakes his head pulling yoongi out of his gawking state, he is mumbling something to the waitress, she leaves the table, giving yoongi now the full view, all empty and sullen.
it lasts a minute or maybe more than that, it sure feels like the longest time of yoongi’s life with him drowning in frustration, before, he sighs, raising his hand, a silent signal for the waitress.
the tapping of his anxious feet is loud, watching the waitress talk to the customer she is tending to and it stops, when she makes her way towards yoongi’s table. he doesn't have a lot of ideas, actually, he doesn't have any idea, so he decides to do what he always does. order a drink for the boy, because that’s what yoongi prefers too, alcohol to forget about the mistakes and errors, to wash the bad days away, but, maybe it is not the right thing to do either, he fears, because the boy doesn't like alcohol, yoongi always ordered sweet drinks for him, though, it is too late now.
the waitress is already at the bar and yoongi’s stress level is rising alarmingly high, leaning against the chair, he chuckles quietly to himself, because who would have thought of him to lose his cool over a boy, a younger boy, certainly not him.
still, it is pleasing, everything about it is, yoongi has something to look forward to, to think about that doesn’t cause him any distress or pollutes his mind with negativity, the boy, the singer who compliments his songs better than him, who for a strange reason makes yoongi feel heard, loved, who manages to have yoongi wrap around his little finger without even meaning to.
yoongi puts his hand over the black mask, covering the half of his face, making sure it is still safely placed; it has become a habit, a trigger that goes off when a sense of being watched jolts him inside. people are always watching, looking at him, yoongi would like to be invisible.
still, the nagging feeling like a stone stuck in his shoe bothers him, he can feel eyes so heavy on him and he curses out loud, turning to see the cause of his restlessness and then really wishes he hadn’t.
because, it is the same damn boy, staring at him with big eyes that make yoongi swallow, frozen in his seat, those eyes can make a devil confess all of his sins when they stare so pointedly, yoongi has this urge to do something reckless like telling him that he is agust d, that he has seen him perform his songs.
yoongi should look away, should get up and run out of here, for some reason it feels like the best option, a safe option, he should do it, really, but he doesn't.
instead, he keeps his posture straight, lets their eyes meet and stay there, hanging like a thin thread, so easily breakable, but it never does and suddenly, the boy stands up, picking something up from the table, and starts walking, straight, towards yoongi.
yeah, yoongi really should’ve left.
the boy’s voice is sweeter in person, person as in front of yoongi, person as in speaking directly to him, when stands there, across yoongi and says,
“you always buy me these drinks.”
it is not a question, not an accusation, just words, just a simple observation, just the truth.
he looks so pretty, so unreal, so much like a dream that yoongi would never want to forget, in his off-white sweater, so soft, yoongi wants to touch and see if he is real and not a treacly fantasy.
yoongi also doesn’t know what to say or how to respond, not without taking a pretty big risk, so he stays quiet instead, letting the silence answer. the boy must’ve realized that he shouldn’t be expecting an answer, so he takes one more step forward.
“can i sit here?” he asks, gesturing towards the chair.
as if drugged, hypnotized, yoongi just nods, before he can even think about the consequences, why it is a bad idea, too focused to keep his heart from jumping out of his ribs, so wild and dangerous.
the boy sits down, putting a glass of shiny bubbly liquid on the table in front of him, the drink yoongi always gets him, he didn’t even notice it, yoongi senses something touch his feet, then he realizes that the boy’s legs were just against his, crossed in between, and he swiftly pulls his legs back as if the touch burned him.
bringing the glass to his lips, the boy takes a sip of his drink, before asking. “what’s your name?”
yoongi tries, he tries really hard not to stare at the way the boy licks his lips, tongue wiping the traces of liquid, but he fails so miserably, it is pathetic.
once again, there is no answer from him, yoongi shifts in his seat, hands clasped together, so tightly that it’s a surprise he doesn’t stop the blood flow, he is nervous, the boy looks as if he can sense it, but what he doesn’t know is that yoongi is nervous for different reasons than what he probably thinks.
“i am jeongguk, by the way.” the boy, jeongguk, smiles against the glass.
it is such a beautiful name. yoongi thinks. the syllables when voiced out loud make jeongguk’s lips form a tiny pout.
everything about him is so endearing, so lovely.
jeongguk lets out a sigh, yoongi would’ve pitied him, if he was not feeling so much pity for himself, for so long he wanted no craved for jeongguk to come to him, craved to talk to him, to take a piece of him, to peek a glimpse inside and see if he is beautiful inside out, and it came true, his wish, jeongguk is there in front of him, all for him, alone, but the irony is that yoongi regrets wishing for that now, he cannot give anything to jeongguk.
seeing jeongguk eyebrows frown so hard, yoongi is sure, he is about to get up and leave, he would hate yoongi, but he surprises him, by saying.
“can you at least show me your face?”
and yes, that black cap lowered down on his face, the mask he never removed, they dig in yoongi’s skin like chains no, jeongguk’s gaze is still on his face, trying so hard to see through, to form the outline, but yoongi raises his hand over his mouth, coughing. it is just to distract jeongguk from his scanning, to calm himself down.
“i—” taking a quick breath, yoongi tries to voice out, “really like your voice.”
that’s all he could manage to reveal.
a moment of silence passes by, jeongguk looks at him wide-eyed, taken by surprise, yoongi’s eyes follow the soft hue of red creeping up his cheeks, tips of his ears on flames.
“oh,” jeongguk says, suddenly, looking down at his lap. his long hair spills over his forehead, steadily, covering his eyes, so he picks a strand and tugs it behind his ear, smoothing it out.
yoongi is about to pass out.
“do you like agust d too?”
to say that jeongguk’s question surprised yoongi would be putting it mildly, it shoots electricity through him.
he flinches, inwardly.
“yeah, i guess.”
“he’s great, isn’t he?”
yoongi likes the small smile that pulls up on jeongguk’s face, so new, a secretive kind as if saved only for him.
“maybe, i don’t know, could be better.”
yoongi is not lying when he says that, tries to shrug nonchalantly. he has his fair share of doubts that keep him awake during the few peaceful nights he gets to sleep, an annoying voice pushing him to go harder, to move faster, to be better, better than before, better than now, better than the best he can do.
“what are you saying, he’s perfect.” jeongguk seems so personally offended that it makes yoongi grin.
“it’s just an opinion. i think that there are few things he can work on.”
“and i think unless you can rap like him, your opinion is invalid to me.”
the smirk growing on yoongi’s lips is instant, jeongguk is just so cute.
“yeah? well i’ve been told i am quite a good rapper myself.”
this is dangerous, where this all is heading, when in fact, yoongi should be heading back to his studio and bury himself in the clutter of beats and unfinished lyrics, but here he is, watching jeongguk, watching jeongguk watching him, doe-like eyes so determined.
at first, jeongguk doesn’t say anything, letting yoongi’s words settle in calmly, repeating them inside his head and then speaking up.
“prove it.”
yoongi raises his eyebrows, in question, “prove it?”
“yeah, prove it, if you are so great and all to speak over agust d, i want to see it.” jeongguk shrugs, but there was a bite in his words, a challenge.
he is not so shy anymore, a half-smile on his face fiery.
“fine.” yoongi says, leans in to place both of his arms on the table, confident, behind his mask, he smiles like a wolf.
jeongguk looks taken aback by yoongi’s easy acceptance, how his lips parts barely an inch before he pulls himself together.
“how are you going to do it then?”
coolly, he questions, looking at his fingers tracing the rim of the glass and, then decides to answer the question himself.
“let’s do a duet.” jeongguk’s eyes flicker up at yoongi.
“a duet?” yoongi doesn’t drop the calm collected facade.
“yeah. agust d has some great collaborations, let’s sing one of them here. you’ll rap his part and i’ll do the other artists. let’s see. ”
it is risky, the entire situation is, there is no way yoongi can go up on that stage and leave without drawing attention, without revealing himself, but jeongguk is temptation wrapped in skin, the way he speaks and carries himself, the sultry charm of his innocence so captivating, but just because his voice is melodious doesn’t mean it can’t cut like knife.
yoongi is tempted, too tempted.
maybe that’s why he gives in so easily.
“okay.”
he would probably regret it, maybe, he didn’t know, but jeongguk’s pleasant expression, the grin on his face, all the teeth on display, yoongi knows, everything would be worth it.
so he continues, “but if i win, you'll let me take you on a date.”
jeongguk sips his drink, before gulping, if yoongi’s request or demand shocks him, he doesn’t let it show and says, “what is this, a bet?”
yoongi shrugs, resting back against the chair and stares at him, silently, a long second,
“so?” he probes.
jeongguk finishes his drink, licking his lips as he observes yoongi, contemplating, the longer he takes to reply the harder yoongi’s heartbeats, the more jeongguk looks at him with an expression that yoongi cannot read the more he seems to lose hope.
but then.
“deal. if you win you can take me on a date.”
with that he gets up from his seat, begins to walk towards the platform, only stopping to glance at yoongi over his shoulder to see if yoongi is following, yoongi does.
yoongi hasn’t felt that kind of nerves in a long time as he follows jeongguk. he could compare it to what he feels before going on an actual stage to perform when he hears the cheers of his fans for the first time, but it is not like that, it’s a bit more thrilling, something that jitters beneath his skin, the kind of feeling he gets when he looks down from a tall building.
the morbid urge to jump and touch the chaos kind of thrill.
jeongguk chooses a recent song, or a collab if you will, yoongi remembers it well, the too long calls with the other artist and how he stayed all night pacing his bedroom floor because the lyrics were personal, it felt like giving a piece of him away, how at first he didn’t want to, but jeongguk is already humming under his breathe even if the instrumental hasn’t started and yoongi smiles because now, it is his favorite song too.
“so, are you ready? just so you know, this song is kind of a tough one. you can still back out.”
“sorry, no backs out.”
the first note of the song plays, light, the beginning seconds of people turning their focus away from the food and the company by their side, yoongi doesn’t pay attention to them, the gazes tries to pierce through his mask, prying, he ignores them.
instead, he focuses on jeongguk, who smiles at him that curls into a smirk from the corner before bringing the mic closer to his face and sings, his gentle voice like drizzling rain singing the first line of the intro.
and it knocks the air out of yoongi, because his voice is beautiful, breathy, alluring in a way that he wants everyone to shut up, wants the world to stop spinning so he can listen to jeongguk’s voice louder, clearer, and so so close.
he’s so caught up between the poetic words leaving jeongguk’s mouth, that he almost misses the change in beat, the moment of pause as jeongguk looks at yoongi, expecting, waiting for him to fill in the rap part.
and yoongi smirks, body facing jeongguk because he just wants to see him, wants him to see yoongi as he hooks a finger in the thin strap of his mask and removes it, mic hovering over his mouth, syllables sitting over the tip of his tongue ready to be let out, one after the other, fast, constant, spitting.
it plays like this, goes in a slow motion, like a montage scene from a movie, just as yoongi starts rapping, lips almost kissing the mic, raw, harsh voice that turns a tone deeper and throaty as he raps, jeongguk just freezes making yoongi smirk, as if he is in a trance, mesmerized, jeongguk looks at yoongi as if he is a piece of fantasy, sheer shock leaving his mouth hang open, but wide eyes filled with adoration, yoongi almost trips over the lyrics.
and jeongguk forgets to sing the pre-chorus, too busy staring at yoongi and people are standing up, there’s a flash, cameras clicking and a crowd forming so blatantly big in front of that small stage and why wouldn’t it be, agust d is there, giving a free concert, a surprise sing off, call it whatever you want.
yoongi nudges jeongguk lightly, motioning him to sing and jeongguk abruptly is pulled out of his thoughts as he shakes his head, cheeks soaking all the red in his body and he sings the chorus, but this time, his voice shakes, this time his voice is cracking and his eyes are darting towards yoongi and only yoongi, he, in all honesty, is so unfocused.
somehow, half-hearted, a little forced, jeongguk finishes the chorus and instantly, turns to yoongi, his eyes seem to be expecting miracles from yoongi and yoongi is more than willing to perform as he raps the second verse, louder this time, cockier because that’s just his style, drawling every line out of him like a neat sip of whiskey.
but his voice is drowned out by the sudden burst of cheers, the bar is positively packed at this point, people jamming every corner makes him realize the need for caution, yoongi needs to leave before he gets mobbed by people, no matter how bad he wants to stay.
it’s a blurry picture, a thoughtless action, as he let the music play stray, no longer rapping and takes a step closer to jeongguk, hurried, taking out a business card that he rarely ever uses given to him by his label, yoongi grabs jeongguk’s free hand and places the card on it and hops off the stage.
the owner of the bar, a middle aged man who has known yoongi and namjoon well and for quite a while comes to rescue yoongi out of there carefully through the crowd and jeongguk stands all alone on the stage still trying to recover from the shock.
in the midst of too loud voices forming incoherent sentences, yoongi is leaving.
— and then he is pacing.
the floors, back and forth, of his bedroom, living room, sometimes in his studio just like now, clutching his phone in one hand tightly, anxiously, focus stirring and going back to one memory, just one person.
namjoon stays on the sofa, typing away on his laptop when he says, “he’s probably freaked out. give him some time.”
and yes that’s what scares yoongi the most, that maybe it got too much for jeongguk, maybe he is indeed freaked out, maybe yoongi is too much for jeongguk, he tried not to dwell on it, but the thought rings in his head.
one hand placed on the doorknob namjoon turns at yoongi, “don’t be awake too late, hyung. remember the meeting tomorrow.”
and when finally, finally the text comes through namjoon is no longer there and alone in his apartment yoongi is taking a shower, that’s why the short faint sound of the notification goes unheard by him.
rubbing his hair with the towel, one wrapped around his waist, yoongi walks out of the bathroom, a string of water droplets trailing behind him on the floor. he has seen some articles and updates going viral around him being at the bar, some people called it a stunt to promote his upcoming work, some called it a sweet surprise, yoongi shouldn’t have ignored the calls of his manager, but he was too tired to care, or rather didn’t want to care, at least not now,
but every worry and thoughts leaves his mind when he picks up his phone from the bed and reads the latest notification, a message from a number he doesn’t recognize, probably because it’s the first he is seeing it.
unknown [10:15] :
you were not lying when you said you are a great rapper
yoongi [10:18] :
who is it?
unknown [10:18] :
i think you already know
unless you give your number to everyone you meet at a bar
then i wouldn’t know
yoongi breathes out in relief, grateful to whatever higher energy that made jeongguk come back to yoongi. maybe he is being a bit dramatic, but at least there is noone around to see him when he throws the towel on the bed and starts typing.
yoongi [10:19] :
no
not everyone manages to impress me by singing my own songs
unknown [10:19] :
mhm
are you trying to flirt with me?
yoongi [10:19] :
idk
i was just being honest
unknown [10:20] :
oh
yoongi [10:20] :
i hope you haven’t forgotten about your part of the deal
unknown [10:20] :
deal hmm
and may i know what was that?
yoongi [10:20] :
let me take you on a date
jeongguk?
unknown [10:21] :
i feel honored to be asked out by the king of rapping agust d himself
yoongi [10:21] :
don’t call me that
unknown [10:21] :
what should i call you then?
yoongi [10:22] :
yoongi, min yoongi.
that’s my name
unknown [10:22] :
i know
yoongi [10:22] :
so ur answer?
the date?
unknown [10:23] :
i think you already know the answer
but yes
i would love to go on a date with you
— they text for a week and it is easily the most nerve-wracking week for yoongi and it had nothing to with the date, or wait, actually it did.
his schedule has always been so packed, slots after slots being filled, something, someone, somewhere he was always required and it never bothered yoongi, not when he liked working, liked being busy, until now, until jeongguk, because now he really needs to find a gap, a free space between his many plans, because he feels guilty for keeping jeongguk waiting, even though he said it’s okay, even though he said he understands, yoongi still feels at fault.
and that’s why he cancels a meeting, turns down an interview, holds himself back from the urge to lock himself inside the studio until his brain begins to talk in beats.
finally, finally, he messages jeongguk one afternoon to clear his evening, to ask for his address, because yoongi would like to pick him up from his place at six sharp and only then both of them realize that it’s finally happening, after so much anticipation and unbearable waiting.
yoongi drums his fingers against the steering wheel, parked outside right in front of jeongguk’s apartment building, something about music and something about nervousness, from the black tinted window of his car he can look outside without any fear and observe, the area is nice, not too showy, reminds yoongi a little of his hometown.
he notices a figure jogging out of the building, hair bouncing in the air and yoongi rolls down a window just enough to raise his hand, a wordless greeting.
he has thought about jeongguk a lot during the past week, too many times, at too many occasions, unconsciously sometimes, about his big beautiful eyes that seem to devour whatever they see, about his button nose that scrunches so cutely, about his pink petal lips, yoongi saw jeongguk one time in his dream too, all angelic and soft, but none of his pathetic feeble fragments of imagination and memory could come close to the real beauty that is jeon jeongguk.
when he is walking towards yoongi’s car, the soft glow of the sun shines on his face, a smile that turns every wrong thing right like magic.
yoongi can’t stop staring, he is aware, but unapologetic.
“hello.” jeongguk greets, climbing inside the passenger seat, still smiling, that makes yoongi smile too.
“hey.”
he is wearing a blue silk shirt and looks good in it, it reveals a part of his collarbone, not too much but just enough to tease the seeker, patch of milky skin, yoongi never looked away so fast, breathless.
“you look good, gorgeous.” yoongi clears his throat, starting the car, the sound of the engine distracting him, cooling him down and covering the crack in his voice.
with careful fingers jeongguk fixes the front of his shirt, cheeks turning red and not from the makeup, yoongi finds it so adoring, everything about jeongguk is adorable, his long slender fingers, his squishy cheeks like cherry, his mouth when he mumbles.
“thank you.”
a second later.
“you don’t look too bad yourself.”
“i know.”
yoongi smirks, let it form into a grin, when jeongguk rolls his eyes at him, says,
“think i take it back.”
jeongguk’s smell is light in contrast to yoongi's cologne, it reminds yoongi of budding flowers and rain droplets gathering on the leaves. it's faint, alluring, like spring and autumn combined, yoongi feels the urge to press his nose against jeongguk's neck and inhale, deeply, fill his lungs with the sweet fragrance overpowering every other smell in his car.
"so, where are you taking me?" jeongguk asks, turning to yoongi.
"somewhere, you'll see." yoongi says, taking the left turn, before one right, he remembers the way perfectly.
jeongguk makes a noise at the back of his throat, a hum, an acknowledgment, looks outside the window at the blurry moving city.
"don't expect much."
"it's okay. i am not expecting anything."
for some reason that doesn't help yoongi at all, he's not used to taking people on dates, feeling this want to do everything right and perfect, to impress someone, mainly because no one actually caught his eyes this way, no one managed to captivate him, he is used to people being already impressed with everything he is, he is used to drinks and quick something at a hotel, but never date, he hasn't dated since college.
the restaurant he chose now feels something a little low, feared that maybe jeongguk will not like it, but it's too late, because he can see the building fall on his sight, and it doesn't look a place where you would take someone to impress, it's not fancy, it's just is, modest, ordinary, like everything else.
"we're here." yoongi says, searching for a parking spot, lets the car stop.
quickly, he jumps out of the car, before jeongguk could even move and jogs to open the passenger's door, rubbing the back of his neck.
"thanks."
the rattling sound of cutlery and murmured conversations that blend well with the music in the background, the restaurant is not too crowded that allows them to freely walk and claim whatever table they want.
"i am sorry if you don't like this place. i would've taken you somewhere big and high class but that would mean too many people up in our business." yoongi grimaces at jeongguk as soon as they are seated.
"i like it here, it's nice, and to be honest, i don't care about anything as long as the food is good." jeongguk grins, unabashed, looking around the restaurant.
the interior is okay, a little bland, there are not many attractions about the place so yoongi looks at jeongguk instead.
"oh, then i am sure you'll love it."
the waiter walks over to their table, placing two menus over it before bowing, jeongguk bows grabbing the menu.
"i still can't believe it's happening."
jeongguk mumbles, almost embarrassed, hiding his mouth behind the menu he is holding as he speaks.
"what?" yoongi asks
"this, you, me. i can't believe it's real."
"maybe. it isn't." grinning to himself, yoongi scans the dishes stated.
jeongguk nips on his bottom lip, having an internal debate before he blurts out.
"can i tell you something? to be honest, i kind of knew it was you since the first time i saw you."
yoongi glances up from the menu at the right time to catch jeongguk's squirm.
"me?"
nodding over and over again, jeongguk goes to explain, "yeah, even though you had your face covered and all and you tried to hide well, i still knew it was you, yoongi."
that definitely catches yoongi's attention, even though all of his is on jeongguk.
"how?"
there is music playing in the background, but jeongguk's voice is the only song yoongi can hear.
"don't think it's creepy, but, because of your hands."
hearing their mention, yoongi looks down at his left hand, resting on the table, slightly curled in a loose fist, the rings on his fingers glimmering under the many restaurant lights.
"what? my hands?" yoongi sounds as confused as he is, maybe curious too.
"yeah, i recognized you by your hands."
jeongguk's voice is suddenly hushed as if he is telling a secret, something that shouldn't be heard by anyone except yoongi.
"why do you think i went there every weekend and only performed your songs? because i wanted to see you, because i wanted you to see me."
i was, i am. yoongi is seeing jeongguk, yoongi has always seen jeongguk and now that he has, he can't look away, can't unsee, don't want to.
yoongi wants to see what is even beyond the surface, wants to see deeper than skin, inside jeongguk's heart, he wants to see every inch of what can't be seen through just eyes.
he wants to memorize jeongguk like his beloved piano, no, better than his piano, wants to run his fingers over him and play the keys that only yoongi knows, only yoongi has mastered, there is music, there is a masterpiece within jeongguk, yoongi so desperately wants to see.
after a long, anxious pause, jeongguk asks, "what?"
that reminds yoongi of the real world, of the things that live outside his head, upon realizing that he hasn't said anything, he is quick to speak.
"nothing, you're just really really cute."
jeongguk's eyes got big, round, flustered, it's cute the way he reacts to words, words are just words, dull, bland, but yoongi loves the way his an effect on jeongguk, how they paint jeongguk's cheeks with colors that makes the rainbow look boring.
that's why yoongi decides to use his words to tease jeongguk, "that's surprising though, i didn't know my hands were so memorable."
"please shut up."
jeongguk lets a dismissal sound, something akin to a whine. the chuckle that escapes yoongi's mouth is almost instant, so endeared, so fucking fond, god, he cannot help but stare at jeongguk like he is the muse every artist is looking for.
when he is simply reading a menu, focused yet detached, eyelashes fanning against cheeks, rosy lips pouting, he resembles nothing less than a painting yoongi could never draw.
"what are you ordering?"
jeongguk catches yoongi staring and blinks in amusement as yoongi hastily looks back down on the neglected menu and clears his throat, pretending to read.
"well let me see."
it's easy with jeongguk, everything is easier with jeongguk, yoongi doesn't have to pretend, he doesn't have to feign interest and politeness, it's normal, it's real. it's easy with jeongguk, because even though he knows yoongi as agust d, even though he knows him as some famous rapper who has the world at his feet, he doesn't treat yoongi any different than himself.
he doesn't try to pry inconsiderately, doesn't expect anything from yoongi, with jeongguk yoongi is just another person, just another guy on a date with someone he likes.
they talk about everything, nothing, about things that probably doesn't matter to anyone else, jeongguk talk so sweet, his words are sweeter, his lips moves like strings of a violin, his hand gestures as if he conducting an orchestra, yoongi loses himself halfway through the conversation every single time.
yoongi loves music, he breathes music, it's what keeps him the most alive and maybe that's why jeongguk draws him in, because he makes yoongi feel the way music does.
"you were right, the food is delicious. maybe i'll bring my friends here some time, jimin would love it." jeongguk munches on his food happily, cheeks puffed up resembling a chipmunk, lips stained with sauces.
"the one who is a dance major? blonde hair, the shortest?" yoongi remembers seeing jeongguk's friends at the bar too many times with him and jeongguk filled him in with some information at one point in their conversation.
"try saying that in front of him, he'll make you regret your life."
"i better not, then."
even the silence is not unbearable with jeongguk, because just like yoongi, jeongguk appreciates the quietness too, the stillness that says so much without a single word.
"thank you so much for bringing me here." toting the spoon around the plate, jeongguk whispers, glances up at yoongi with hesitant eyes.
"thank you for letting me."
yoongi smiles at him, waits for a second for jeongguk to smile too and he does, sheepish, grateful, before letting out a shy laugh.
it was supposed to end there.
yoongi was supposed to drop jeongguk before going back to his own apartment, they both were supposed to sleep with the memories of the evening and the dinner they laughed over.
yoongi was not supposed to walk jeongguk to his door.
jeongguk was not supposed to invite him inside.
but jeongguk has eyes so beautifully brown like a magic potion and equally bewitching, yoongi finds himself not wanting to deny anything he wants.
so when jeongguk peers at him, through his fluttering eyelashes, the faint night lights reflecting in eyes, murmurs a quiet, "wanna come inside?"
how could yoongi say no? when jeongguk is the only pretty thing in his grey, inconsistent life, when jeongguk is the breath of fresh air in the midst of his long exhausting routine.
and that's how, imprisoned in the moment of weakness, yoongi finds himself in jeongguk's bedroom, on jeongguk's bed, cuddling and mind you, min yoongi never cuddles, especially not right after the first date.
"imagine if i had a roommate and i showed up here with you." careful fingers trail over yoongi's arm as if drawing something, jeongguk mumbles so quietly.
the bedroom is dusky, barely lit, warm yellow glow of a lamp illuminating the room, they were supposed to watch a movie, or well jeongguk wanted to watch a movie, but none of them knew how they ended up not watching a movie and tangled instead, like two strings of fate.
"well if you had a roommate then i wouldn't be here in the first place." yoongi says, pulls him a little closer, until jeongguk's body feels like his own.
"oh yeah? so you would've just dropped me here alone and then we would have to wait for another three years to see eachother again, because that's how busy you are." jeongguk looks up at yoongi, eyebrows shot up in offence, he looks at yoongi so overwhelmingly.
the wild strand of hair that fell out of jeongguk's styled hair, yoongi picks it gently between his forefinger and thumb, so soft, "that's exactly what i was going to do actually."
"you couldn't, even if you tried." he says it like a challenge, like a threat, shifts restlessly on the bed, keeps moving to search for a comfortable place and in the process, sits almost on top of yoongi.
resting his head against the headboard, yoongi watches the boy, an angel without a halo and wings, who is wiggling and squirming, until yoongi pulls him fully on his lap and calms down his uneasiness.
jeongguk gulps and even though the light in that room is faint, so low, it doesn't hide the flustered expression on his face, his bitten lip, the flush that goes down his neck, yoongi is curious to know how low it goes.
noticing the blatant staring, jeongguk asks. "what?"
he is embarrassed, the night has given yoongi enough time in his company to pick on jeongguk's nervous tactics, he is shy, like that day when he stepped on that stage for the first time to sing. yoongi remembers that day so vividly.
"you're beautiful, you're so fucking beautiful. gonna be the death of me."
bringing a hand to his face, yoongi holds jeongguk so delicately, his eyes are a maze that yoongi can never get out of, but he doesn't want to.
"please don't have a heart stroke, i just got you." jeongguk grins and breaks something inside yoongi.
"charming." yoongi mutters, pulls jeongguk close, closer, still not close enough, until their foreheads are pressed together, until their breath is intertwined in one.
jeongguk stares at yoongi for a long moment, as yoongi let his hand drop to jeongguk's waist, marveled at the slimness of it, how perfectly it fits between his hands, as if made only for him to hold.
yoongi is having questionable thoughts.
"so, hypothetically if i were to suck you off, would you come in my mouth?"
yoongi chokes, inwardly, in his head he is wheezing, clutching his chest trying to breath through the shock, but outside he doesn't let it show, outside, he smirks, feels a flicker of heat in his gut.
"that depends baby, how hypothetical are we talking about?"
jeongguk matches his smirk, pulls away a little to press down on yoongi's lap, on a spot he knows will bring out a reaction out of yoongi. "none at all."
"well if that's the case, then yes, if you be good for me."
"that sounds like a line out of a bad porno." jeongguk teases.
"right, get off. you're not touching my dick." yoongi clicks his tongue, an act of offence, but he doesn't move jeongguk, and maybe that says it all.
but, jeongguk understands yoongi like his songs, he plays along, leaning to nudge yoongi's cheek with his nose, he whispers, "come on, let me. i'll make it worth your while."
yoongi's hands are moving lower now, lower than jeongguk's waist when he says, "i don't know, i kinda want to leave."
"i can think of some ways to persuade you to stay."
the air crackles when their eyes meet. it's getting hot, the atmosphere feels thick, heat laced.
"yeah?"
"yeah, although i don't think you need a lot of persuasion." jeongguk grinds his hips, just a subtle movement of his ass against yoongi to prove all of his points right.
"so, may i please?" he asks.
yoongi cannot breathe, but he has to act cool, no matter how unreal and hot it feels, "what?"
"touch your dick?" jeongguk says, sprinkling so much innocence in his question as if what he is asking to do is not lewd.
the hands that moved down so sneakily to jeongguk's ass, hold the flesh firmly, squeezes it.
"only because you asked so nicely, doll."
jeongguk grins at him all devious and sly, it reminds yoongi of a metaphor he wrote in his notepad four days ago, something about spell and last wishes, yoongi would try to remember, but he in all honesty can't focus on anything except jeongguk who shifts down, between yoongi's legs.
yoongi is getting hard, of course he is getting hard, he got a gorgeous boy facing his crotch, licking over the rough material of his jeans to twitch something inside, how can he not?
jeongguk doesn't make a move to open the zipper, he just plays with it, the clothing tightening around yoongi, jeongguk looks up finding yoongi's eyes and lets their gaze lock, burning as he palms the bulge slowly becoming visible in yoongi's pants.
yoongi is losing his mind
— and patience.
"you forgot how to give a blowjob or something?" he raises his voice just a tone louder, trying to provoke jeongguk to do something, to be quicker.
"you forgot how to be patient?"
jeongguk retorts, before mouthing yoongi over his jeans, a barely-there pressure and heat, scarce but so fucking hot.
something snaps inside yoongi, peeking at the blank ceiling last time, yoongi grabs jeongguk's and pulls him up, jeongguk yelps, caught off guard as yoongi with all of his impatience and frustration flips their position until he is on top of jeongguk.
"i am sorry, but i like to be the one to tease." he murmurs, harshly.
jeongguk's hairstyle is messed up now, it loosens and long strands get sprawled over the pillow, jeongguk swallows looking at yoongi with deer caught in headlight expression.
yoongi's lips brush over jeongguk's cheek, feels it so warm and soft beneath. "so fucking gorgeous."
yoongi kisses the skin gently, before opening his mouth to reveal his fangs and he bites into the smooth skin, jeongguk whimpers clinging to yoongi.
licking the wounded area, yoongi pulls away to look at jeongguk.
"did you have fun tonight?"
jeongguk's pupils are wide, skin flushed, he seems a little breathless and it does something to yoongi knowing that, because he hasn't done anything to jeongguk, not yet.
"which part? the date or having you in my bed?" jeongguk says, slings his arms around yoongi's neck.
"you wanted me in your bed?" yoongi raises an eyebrow.
"and do things that would make my parents blush, yes."
jeongguk smiles, a toothy smile, so carefree and childlike, his front two teeths are bigger than others, at the back of his mind yoongi thinks of a rabbit.
yoongi chuckles, caressing jeongguk's sides through the silk material of his shirt, "cute. but, i was talking about the date."
jeongguk hums, puts on a show of contemplation, before asking "if i say yes will you take me on another one?"
"sure, i'll take you wherever you want " yoongi replies smoothly, "— or however you want."
"wow, so romantic." jeongguk bursts into a giggle.
and yoongi's breath falters at the sound, it rings inside yoongi's head like a musical note.
blinking up at yoongi's sudden silence, jeongguk decides to speak up,"you know, i never imagined you to be like this "
"how so?"
"i don't know, i mean agust d feels so untouchable, unreachable with a sharp, greater than thou persona, but you in reality are so chill and nice." jeongguk bites his lip voicing out the last sentence, afraid he said something wrong.
yoongi registers his words, let them settle in, "well as you said that is just my persona. i am not always like that."
"but i am sure you both share the same filthy tongue." jeongguk smirks, brings yoongi closer.
"mhm, wanna see just how filthier it can get?"
"oh i would love to. been waiting for you to show me your tongue technology."
"stop, don't say that, not when i am trying to fuck you."
yoongi is good at pretending, at acting, when the situation demands he can act so well, but right now he is not acting, right now he is not trying to hide his nervousness as he says those words, his heartbeats gets louder and violent, he lets jeongguk hear it.
jeongguk looks straight into yoongi's eyes, moves underneath him, slowly, until his legs are parted, and yoongi falls in between them, slotted there, then jeongguk smiles, wryly.
"well better get to it then."
yoongi doesn't even remember holding his breath until he finally releases it, lets the nervousness and tension leave his body too, he presses their hips together, putting only a little force.
"not so easily though."
he smirks and jeongguk looks at him with questioning gaze, although there is curiosity in them, he is waiting for yoongi to make the next move now that he has all the permission in the world, he is challenging yoongi.
yoongi doesn't want to do something meaningless, quick, like a dirty secret, he wants to savour it, he wants to make jeongguk feel good, he wants to take his time with jeongguk, because he makes the best music when he takes his time.
jeongguk's breath tickles yoongi's skin as he leans down to rub their noses together, a move to calm both of their nerves down, but apparently, jeongguk doesn't feel like wasting any time as he raises his hands to tangle his fingers in yoongi's hair and pulls him down to crush their mouths together.
it's all teeth and a groan that no one knows who let out as their lips collide, yoongi grabs jeongguk's waist, tightly, run his tongue over jeongguk's lips, tracing their outline and jeongguk lets out a whimper, before opening his mouth for yoongi, going pliant under him, as yoongi slips his tongue inside and licks the hot wetness.
their tongues meet shy at first as jeongguk is but then so brave, so filthy, then, rolling together, the wet lewd noise and both of their ragged breathing feel loud in that quiet room, jeongguk chokes on a moan as yoongi pushes him against the mattress, sucking on his tongue, and he feels that action all over his body, the fire licking his abdomen.
yoongi finally pulls away with lips glossy with saliva and jeongguk with a loud gasp, breathing in the air like a dying man, his hands have moved to grip yoongi's shirt, clutching it tightly between his shaking fingers.
"fuck."
jeongguk breathes out when yoongi drops his head to the crook of his neck, licking a strip over the velvety skin and he tugs jeongguk's shirt out of his jeans to slide a hand up over his bare torso.
yoongi as guilty he is never stopped looking at jeongguk's neck, when they were in the car yoongi kept glancing at the collar of his shirt, hoping it would slip a little lower, at the dinner table when jeongguk lifted his hand to scratch his neck and yoongi got to steal that one wicked glimpse of his collarbone, and now that he is here, now that he has jeongguk falling apart under him, how can he stop? how can he control his dangerous desires that just want to swallow jeongguk whole?
yoongi curses under his breath, before licking the skin again, it tastes like water and yoongi is very very thirsty, he leaves a kiss over the soft spot, an advance apology before he bites into the skin, breaking the first barrier, hard, teeth cutting through.
jeongguk arches his back as yoongi caresses his abdomen, makes his way up over his stomach, ribs and finally settling over his nipple, already hard after brushing against the shirt too many times, and mercilessly, yoongi presses his finger over the sensitive bud, continues to assault his neck, making jeongguk a mess already.
satisfied with the taste, yoongi pulls away to look at the mark blossoming on the spotless skin, bloody red, before running his tongue over the bite.
the shirt is a nuisance because it doesn't allow yoongi much access as he goes to kiss jeongguk's neck, behind his ear, driving down to his shoulder, filthy little kisses. yoongi removes his hands from jeongguk's chest and a whine escapes him in protest, but jeongguk instantly shuts himself up, flushing, yoongi looks at him like a hunter, like a demon, before grabbing the hem of the shirt to remove it off of jeongguk.
jeongguk complies, raises his arms to slide the shirt off, before gripping yoongi's t-shirt, already gathering it up.
"you too. take it off."
but the shirt leads to yoongi grabbing jeongguk's jeans buttons that lead to jeongguk struggling to unbuckle yoongi's pants and with clawed hands, desperate movement, and even more desperate intentions, they finally managed to undress each other in rush, leaving no piece of clothing on except their boxers.
and as jeongguk falls back on the bed, all spread, naked body as if created by the finest sculptor, yoongi stops breathing for a few good seconds, stares at jeongguk in awe because what is a masterpiece if not jeon jeongguk.
"fuck, look at you, fucking beautiful."
jeongguk whines embarrassed but there is a smile teasing his lips and yoongi, luring him in, as he raises his arms inviting yoongi back in between them, and yoongi follows, of course yoongi follows, he will follow jeongguk to anywhere to do anything.
now that he has gotten this, nothing and no one will ever satisfy him.
Jeongguk giggles, because yoongi is still staring at him, and yoongi likes the sound too much, but he says nothing to voice his adoration and leans in to kiss jeongguk.
this time it's sweeter, this time it's calm, languid, their tongues slides and curls together, there is a smile pressed between the kiss as yoongi takes jeongguk's lip between his teeth, nibbles on it, teeth scratching against the flesh just slightly rough to make jeongguk's breath hitch.
yoongi looks down at jeongguk's parted lips, shiny spit covered, swollen red, raises his hand to nudge his fore and middle finger against the lips, and jeongguk eagerly opens his mouth, allows yoongi to insert as he sucks on his fingers earnestly, swirling his tongue around them and yoongi moans, that does something to Jeongguk as he sucks, getting yoongi’s fingers just a little deeper in his throat.
"okay, stop."
jeongguk pouts at yoongi when he pulls away his hand, emptying jeongguk's mouth, but soon his pout is gone as yoongi places his slick fingers over his nipple, pinching it.
jeongguk moans almost instinctively, back arching, yoongi continues to play with his nipple between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head to take another one in his mouth.
"fuck yoongi, fuck."
jeongguk cries, visibly shake that yoongi has to hold him down with his body, caging his against the bed as he continues to drive him crazy by scraping his teeth against the nipple, oversensitive now.
not wanting to turn pleasure into pain yoongi let it go and moves to kiss down jeongguk's body instead, on both of his nipples, on the small dimple between his ribs, and as yoongi moves dangerously close to his navel, jeongguk's broken breaths becomes uneven.
his stomach clenches, when yoongi's lips run wild over the skin, moving low, lower, until it reaches his lower belly, yoongi can feel jeongguk heavy breathing, short pants like his own, and slowly, he moves to tug the waistband of his underwear between his teeth, yoongi can feel, taste jeongguk's arousal, the wet patch in front of his underwear, yoongi surpasses a moan.
and finally, finally, yoongi removes the last piece of offending cloth from jeongguk's body, slides the boxers down his legs, and off to the floor, and Yoongi curses a string of dirty words lowly, because jeongguk, because jeongguk just is.
in all his naked glory, completely exposed, blushed red skin, messy hair that still manages to make him look so perfect, yoongi cannot believe how lucky he is to be here with jeongguk, to do this and jeongguk whines probably because yoongi is looking at him like he is something edible, and maybe in the most carnal, animalistic way, he is and yoongi wants to taste.
desperate, not bothering to hide his excitement, yoongi grabs jeongguk's hard length between his fingers, a thread of pre cum dripping, yoongi leans down to lick a strip up and down, but that's all he does, just licks tentatively, and presses a kiss to the head.
"god, please, yoongi."
yoongi knows what jeongguk is asking, pleading for, but he pays no attention to the needy boy, and instead nuzzles his inner thigh, his thighs, his fucking thighs, so thick and alluring, the way its muscles tenses firm when yoongi grabs them, jeongguk watches from above, heavy lidded, yoongi peppering kisses inside, wet open mouthed kisses, and he cries as yoongi's sharp teeth digs inside the muscle, hard, bruising.
every part, every inch of jeongguk’s body is perfect, is perfect and yoongi would dedicate his entire fucking life to appreciate it, to mark, to love it, to kiss it, yoongi would worship jeongguk the way he never does to any diety.
dark red, some purple, a faint shade of blue, bite marks decorates jeongguk's thighs, whose eyes haven't stop tearing, whose weak moans and whimpers plays like a song, bounces off the wall, soothing yoongi's ear.
but he is not done yet, not when he has just begun, and it is his favourite part, when he nudges in, can feel the perfect curve of jeongguk's ass, holds his trembling legs down to blow against jeongguk's hole, the hot puff of air tickles him and jeonghuk lets out a loud, salacious moan.
sliding a palm underneath jeongguk's hip to keep him upright, yoongi darts his tongue, teasing the rim, circling it around, deliberately, slowly, making jeongguk lose his mind and the ability to form coherent sentences, small quick licks against the walls that clench around nothing, yoongi pushes his tongue inside, holds to grip jeongguk's knees just as he was about to close his legs.
"please, fuck me, fuck me."
jeongguk cries out, pathetic under the torment of min yoongi and yoongi feels himself throb in his underwear, neglected for too long, he wants to, god, how badly he wants to.
"where is—" he pulls away to question only to be interrupted halfway with hurried words.
"second drawer."
yoongi doesn't have any strength, he is that weak against jeongguk all needy filthy sight, but somehow he finds it in himself to get up and reach for the bedside table, second drawer, second drawer, the two words repeats in his ear only stopping when he finds the small bottle.
but it's discarded soon, as soon as yoongi's fingers are covered well with the cold thick liquid and one of his fingers is inserted inside jeongguk, the bottle is forgotten, lost in the heaps of sheets.
tears cling to jeongguk's eyelashes the way stars cling to the night sky, when he shuts his eyes tightly, moving against yoongi's finger, silently asking for more, and yoongi inserts another and then one more, until he is three knuckles deep inside jeongguk, scissoring in out, rubbing against the walls, curling up from the front to look for that one spot.
suddenly, jeongguk moans, chasing yoongi's fingers, and yoongi knows that's it, that's where the key is that gets jeongguk to make such pretty sounds, music for the unholy.
yoongi takes out his fingers and jeongguk is not happy at all as he chokes out,
"why the fuck—"
"you don't want me to fuck you?"
that has jeongguk zipping his lips, although his expression remains offended, like a petty child, but yoongi takes off his boxers, searches for the bottle of lube with a blind hand.
that must've been the most painfully long time for both of them, even though it's been what only seconds for yoongi to pour a generous amount in his hand and cover himself, in anticipation and excitement jeongguk doesn't take eyes off of yoongi as he lines himself up against jeongguk, and sets him free, finally, finally sliding in.
yoongi does it slowly, carefully, slides inside fully to bottom out, and both of their moans sound the same symphony of relief and instant pleasure.
"fuck, baby, so tight." yoongi grits out, tries to calm his breathing.
jeongguk whimpers wrapping his legs around yoongi's hip to keep him close, even though that's where he already is, their chest press together, heartbeats in sync, rapid, wild.
gripping the back of his neck, yoongi pulls jeongguk in a heated kiss, teeth and tongue colliding unfashionably, but intense, a little distracted as yoongi begins to move, rocks his hips up steadily inside jeongguk, he moans in the kiss and yoongi swallows it.
when yoongi finally picks up pace, begins to thrust inside jeongguk deep, fast, they cannot kiss any longer, but yoongi keeps their mouths pressed together, licking the sinful sounds directly off jeongguk's lips.
the bedroom smells of sweat, last specks of perfume that lingers on their body, of something sweet that jeongguk always tastes of, and yoongi pushes inside him, jeongguk meeting every thrust as best as he can, clinging to yoongi's shoulder.
jeongguk cries out, overwhelmed, as yoongi hits a spot that has him seeing stars, and yoongi knows, he knows, so he does it again, pulls out before driving back in with such a force that hits the exact spot again and again.
"yoongi.."
jeongguk calls out in the most wrecked voice ever, syllables barely hanging together and yoongi pulls away from his neck to look at jeongguk, who whispers.
"harder."
yoongi groans, loud, animalistic, before grabbing jeongguk's leg that was wrapped around his waist and throws it over his shoulder.
jeongguk wails, loud, obscene, the position allowing yoongi to rails into jeongguk, harder, as he wanted, he falls back on the sheets, leg bending over, yoongi fills him up nice and full, pulls out and pushes back in him again, the pace almost inhuman, battered breathes, chests glistening with a sheen of sweat.
yoongi thinks that the prettiest music is jeongguk's whines, completely surrendered, the soft breathy ah ah ah that jeongguk makes sounds like a melody of yoongi's favorite song, and their bodies move together, a well practiced dance, yoongi hisses, feels jeongguk claw his back, scratch his shoulder blades, but he doesn't mind them, treats them like lyrics written on his body.
"shit, i am gonna, gonna—"
jeongguk blabbers doesn't even finish the sentence before yoongi is sinking a hand in between their glued bodies to finally touch jeongguk, slow, torturous strokes, firm grip and jeongguk is coming all over his hand and his own chest, sticky white.
the orgasm hits jeongguk like a drug as his body goes pliant, lifeless on the bed and yoongi takes this opportunity to buck hips, thrusts deeper inside jeongguk, chasing his own release.
jeongguk cries, overstimulated, feels his body burn, yoongi looks at him so gone and pretty, and moans, thrusts into him one last time before he is coming all hot and wet inside jeongguk too.
slipping jeongguk's leg down from his shoulder, yoongi collapses in front, on top of jeongguk, both of them trying to catch their breaths, the sheets are crinkled and a mess beneath them as they hold on to each other, blissed out.
"let me clean you up." yoongi mumbles, getting off of jeongguk.
without opening his eyes, jeongguk just raises his hand in the direction of the bathroom, lazily, and yoongi shakes his head, feels it spin a little,dragging himself towards the bathroom door.
he doesn't even get a chance to look around, to see the interior and pieces of jeongguk, too busy washing himself clean, grabbing the nearest towel, yoongi wets it under the running faucet, before retrieving back to the bedroom.
and jeongguk is lying there, all fucked out, cheeks flushed, pretty pink marks and small bruises on his spotless skin, he watches yoongi with hazy eyes as yoongi brings the towel to clean him.
the moles on his body sprinkled like stardust, yoongi gulps, wiping jeongguk's stomach, abdomen, skin shining like porcelain.
yoongi doesn't consider himself as a romantic person, he hasn't written any love songs, at least not romantically, but for some reason looking at jeongguk now, he can't help but think of romance, butterflies and love letters in the form of music, jeongguk seems the type of person to like those things and yoongi would write them for him.
yoongi would write all the love songs in the world for jeongguk.
later when yoongi comes back from the bathroom second time, after washing his hands and discarding the dirty towel, there is a horrible thought inside his head, that maybe jeongguk doesn't like him like that, that maybe it was a one time thing, a one night thing, suddenly, yoongi thinks about incomplete happiness, and lost moments.
but, jeongguk grins as he sees yoongi, reaches to tug yoongi's wrist with nervous fingers and pulls him closer to the bed, to his side, making yoongi lay down beside him.
"cuddles?" he whispers quietly, snuggling against yoongi, and silences every bad voice inside yoongi's mind.
somehow, it feels different, much more special and intimate, even though what they did before was equally special to yoongi, but this is maybe a little more, because he has had sex before this too, with too many faceless, nameless people, but he never stayed after, no one pulled him into them to cuddle.
yoongi closes his eyes, relaxation seeping in his body, feeling warm, drunk.
"i think you broke me." jeongguk says out of nowhere, followed by a wince as he shifts on the bed.
yoongi grins, winds up an arm around jeongguk's waist to tug him closer, almost on top of him, jeongguk's weight on his chest and legs intertwined with his own, it calms him.
"i didn't see you complain."
jeongguk doesn't respond, not with words at least, just whines, hiding his face against yoongi's neck and yoongi chuckles, endeared, tightening his hold around jeongguk.
— and their routine goes on like this again.
months later, yoongi still sneaks into the bar on weekends to listen to his favorite boy sing his songs, but this time, jeongguk knows, and he waits for yoongi too, because now he only performs for yoongi.
but things have changed too, now yoongi holds jeongguk's hand as he orders both of them a drink, now he gets to take jeongguk home and make him sing many more, but different songs.