Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hoseok’s not new to gay clubs, in concept.

Sure, he’s not exactly a connoisseur, but he’s still somewhat familiar to the entire gay club scene (which probably has to do with the fact that five out of his six closest friends are somewhere in the not-hetero spectrum). He knows the names of most of them, and he knows things like how ‘Illuminati’ is right across the street from ‘Dopamine’, that they play mostly hip-hop at ‘Glam’ and Latino music at ‘Caramba!’, and that Yoongi and Namjoon met each other at an indie one named ‘Honey’ many years ago.

However, he’s never been to one— not until tonight. He’d never really gotten a chance to go to one, so it wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to go. During college he dated a girl who wasn’t very keen on him going to gay clubs, so there was that; then, after college, all of his friends were always so busy that planning any kind of get-together with them and getting all their schedules to match had become a herculean effort. That weekend it seemed that the stars had aligned because everybody was available, nobody was excessively tired, Jimin had finally gotten rid of his asshole boyfriend, and on top of everything, there was a ‘buy one mojito, get a tequila shot for free’ promo at Illuminati. There’s no way he’s not going, even if he didn’t want to go.

It took him a while to get ready, though, since he wasn’t sure how should he dress. He sent a panicked message to the group chat asking if there was a dress-code for gay clubs or something, and the replies made it clear that his question was stupid (a ’it baffles me how straight you are’ from Namjoon, an ironic ’a clown costume’ from Yoongi, a useless string of ㅋㅋㅋ from Seokjin, and a sweet ’just what you’d wear for any night out is fine, hyung ^^’ from Jimin).

Once he’s there, he must say that things aren’t very different from the non-gay clubs he’s been to. The illumination is colorful and not good at all, the music is loud, there is cigarette smoke lingering in the air in spite of all the ‘no smoking’ signs stuck on the walls, and there’s people flirting wherever he looks. The only big difference is that those people flirting with each other are all of the same gender, and that he’s seen so many shirtless men he might as well be at a gym’s locker room (which means there was a dress code after all). Also, there’s drag queens, which is pretty cool if you ask Hoseok, because he’s never seen one in real life.

It’s even better that Seokjin is there, too.

Seokjin is great.

Like him, he’s not gay, but unlike him, he has been to gay clubs and bars before. He seems to know his way around and he seems comfortable enough, so Hoseok ends up relying on him a lot – especially when, after dancing and having fun together in the dancefloor for a while, Yoongi and Namjoon disappeared and got lost in the club, and Jungkook and Taehyung pulled Jimin along with them in order to find him someone to spend the night with. The music is good and Hoseok is an actual certified dancer, but he doesn’t feel confident (i.e., drunk) enough to stay at the dancefloor of a gay club all by himself, so he seeks Seokjin out.

Seokjin opted out of dancing, deeming himself too sober, so Hoseok easily finds him by the bar, looking nothing short of a runway model despite being obviously in the clothes he wore to work. Now, Hoseok’s not gay, but he can appreciate beauty when he sees it, and Seokjin is fucking covered in it. Calling Seokjin handsome is as much of a scientifically proven fact as it is that seawater is salty or that fire is hot.

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok greets Seokjin with a grin, putting his arm around his broad shoulders as he reaches his side. Seokjin flinches at first, most likely in surprise, but he quickly relaxes when he realizes it’s Hoseok. “Are you having fun being lame? Why didn’t you come dance with us?”

Seokjin huffs and rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“I told you already; I’m not drunk enough to make a fool of myself yet, for one. And also, I’m in my office clothes. I can’t dance in my office clothes,” he argues, and although both things are debatable, Hoseok shrugs and lets him be. There is a half-full mojito in front of him, and an already empty shot glass next to it, and he wonders if later into the night he’d be willing to join him in the dancefloor, maybe. At least he won’t ditch him for other guys, and they can dance in a strictly platonic, strictly no-homo way. Seokjin seems as sober as ever, though, and Hoseok kinda envies that, being the supreme lightweight he is.

“Still, lame,” Hoseok replies just for the hell of it, smirking at Seokjin as he lets go of him to lean against the bar and stand next to him instead. He gets the bartender’s attention (a miraculous feat in such a crowded place) and he orders a mojito while Seokjin sips on his own beside him.

“So, I assume your first gay-club experience is going well, then? You look like you’re having fun,” Seokjin says amusedly, playing with the black straw of his almost-empty drink and stabbing mint leaves with it.

“It’s going great, yeah— though it’s pretty much the same, I guess. It just smells a lot more like Axe,” Hoseok jokes, laughing loudly when Seokjin snorts and nearly chokes on his mojito in the process. “No, but really. It’s fun. I mean, I wish I didn’t have to see so many shirtless guys, or guys with their tongues down each other’s throats everywhere I look, but it’s fine. The music’s better than at straight clubs.”

“You’ve never kissed a guy?” Seokjin asks, suddenly, as casually and conversationally as if he was asking about the weather or taxes.

“No?” Hoseok replies, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, aside from that dumb dare game in college where I had to kiss Yoongi for fifteen seconds and Minah refused to kiss me for like, a week, no. Why do you ask?”

Seokjin laughs at the memory, but then he shrugs. “No reason, just curious.”

Hoseok hums, and he supposes it’s fair that he is. They’ve never really talked about stuff like this despite being in a group comprised mostly of gay people. In fact, Hoseok is suddenly curious too, so he turns his head at Seokjin and asks, “what about you?”

Seokjin shakes his head in reply.

“Nope. Also only in dare games, like you, but those don’t count,” he answers, easily.

“Yeah, no, those don’t count,” Hoseok agrees. He stays quiet for a moment, during which he receives his drink and his tequila shot, but it’s actually not silent at all. The music is pounding, making the floor and the bar vibrate, and there are people screaming and yelling and singing all around. It’s loud and it’s nice, and Hoseok is only vaguely aware that he’s tapping his foot to the beat of the song that’s playing. He takes a long sip from his drink before he asks Seokjin yet another question, his curiosity getting the most of him. “Is it something that you’d like to try? Kissing a guy, I mean. To see what it’s like, or something.”

“Ehh, I don’t know,” Seokjin replies, “for science, maybe. But I’d have to be either very drunk or very into him, or both.”

“Same,” Hoseok says, nodding. “It’s not like I’m opposed to it, or something. But girls are… Girls. You know?”

“Oh, I know.”

Of course he knows. Hoseok knows he knows, and Hoseok knows too. College was a fun time, especially during the times they were both single and they were dumber and more immature. They went girl-hunting together, they Tinder’d their way through stressful weeks and showed off their hook-ups to each other, and Hoseok knew Seokjin had seen him with a lapful of stripper during the bachelor party of an older friend of theirs during second year. Hoseok, in turn, had seen Seokjin taking not one, but two girls home on a single night. Later on, Hoseok dated Minah for almost three years, and Seokjin had had his own fair share of girlfriends he was absolutely enamored with. They were and have always been the token straight friends, and Hoseok supposes that’s one of the many reasons they’ve always been so close.

He’s in the middle of talking to Seokjin animatedly about something when suddenly he feels a hand resting on the small of his back and a firm body pressing against his arm and his side.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, and Hoseok turns away from Seokjin to find a tall and muscular man he hasn’t ever seen before standing right next to him, a smirk on his face. He’s not ugly by any means, and he looks like he could be the definition of a fun time for somebody else. Jimin, maybe. But not Hoseok. In fact, just the fact that he’s touching Hoseok is enough to make him a little bit annoyed.

“Uh, hi,” Hoseok replies, dryly. He debates whether to add something else, but the guy beats him to it and his deep voice interrupts his thoughts.

“You’re here by yourself?” He asks, to which Hoseok raises an eyebrow because he was clearly talking to somebody before the guy interrupted him.

“Uh, no? If you couldn’t tell,” he answers, not too nicely. “Do you need help with anything, or…?”

The man shrugs, but his hand is still very much on Hoseok’s back. Low on it.

“I was hoping I could buy you a drink. I saw that you seemed kinda busy, but I thought that maybe I could change your mind,” he says, and Hoseok has to suppress the need to laugh mockingly at his face. Is this how girls feel when guys hit on them at clubs? It’s his first time in such a position, and all of a sudden, he wishes he could take back every time he walked up to a girl and hit on her shamelessly just because he believed he was in his right to do so.

“Sorry, that’s not happening,” Hoseok tells him, not really feeling sorry at all. Next to him Seokjin laughs, and the next thing he feels is his friend pulling the man’s arm away from him and wrapping his own arm around his waist instead, hugging him and pulling him closer. Hoseok turns to give Seokjin a little estranged look at the sudden closeness, to which the older man rolls his eyes in un-amusement.

He leans closer to whisper into Hoseok’s ear to just ”do what he does and roll with it, okay?”, and that gesture alone seems to work for something, because the man actually steps away from them. Finally.

“Oh, he’s your boyfriend?” The man asks, suddenly looking genuinely apologetic.

Hoseok frowns in confusion for a moment, but then he realizes— it’s a smart move. He’s not in the mood to get hit on by random guys. He’s not into guys. Seokjin isn’t into guys either, but they’re in a gay club together. Being straight himself, it’s safe to assume that Seokjin doesn’t want to get hit on by guys either, so maybe if they join forces they can prevent it with just a little PDA. An arm wrapped around one another, and a little whispering can do the trick. It’s genius; Seokjin’s a genius. Just a little touch and it seems that they’re safe from unwanted attention.

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” Seokjin says with confidence, moving a little closer and squeezing Hoseok around his midsection. It makes Hoseok stiffen up at first, but he tries to relax into the touch to not make it seem like he’s not used to his (supposed) boyfriend touching him.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I really couldn’t tell,” the man apologizes again, actually bowing his head as he does so. Seokjin laughs, the sound of it ringing pleasantly in Hoseok’s ear.

“No worries. He’s so cute, it can’t be helped he gets hit on wherever we go,” Seokjin says, and he actually brings his hand to Hoseok’s face to squeeze his cheek with his fingers, which are ice-cold from being pressed against his cold glass for so long. Hoseok wants to hiss at the feeling, but he swallows the discomfort and jumps right into the game instead. He takes his own cold hand to the back of Seokjin’s neck and presses his icy fingers against his hot nape.

“Aw, Jinnie-hyung, you know it’s the other way around,” Hoseok says, smirking evilly when he feels a strong shiver shooting through Seokjin’s body when he touches him and rubs his skin with his cold fingers. “I have to swat them all away like flies, you’re so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, baby,” Seokjin retorts in a voice that borders on saccharine, squeezing around Hoseok’s waist again, though this time digging his fingers a little deeper. Hoseok yelps at the feeling, and in retaliation he presses his hand fully against Seokjin’s skin. The older man hisses and tries to push Hoseok away at last , while Hoseok just laughs. “Stop, stop—! He’s gone, he’s gone! Yah, you didn’t have to do that, Jung Hoseok!”

Hoseok doesn’t stop laughing as he watches Seokjin shrugging his shoulders and rolling his neck a little, most likely to warm up the area that he abused with his cold hands.

“You did it first, though!” He argues, but Seokjin huffs.

“Psh, I saved your ass! You should be thanking me instead of mistreating me,” Seokjin complains and Hoseok laughs again as he brings his drink to his face to sip from the black straw, all the while looking around to make sure the guy truly left. He didn’t notice when he left, he was so caught up playing with Seokjin.

“I complimented you nicely, isn’t that enough?” he says, a little distractedly, before focusing back on Seokjin. The first buttons of his shirt are open, revealing tan skin that contrasts pretty nicely against his crisp light blue shirt.

“Nah, buy me another drink and maybe I’ll forgive you,” Seokjin says. He pauses for a moment, his eyes meeting Hoseok’s. They look at each other for a few seconds, and for a weird, electrifying moment, it feels as if the music and the crowd around them are gone. Not too long after, the moment is over, and a smirk takes over Seokjin’s face before he adds, echoing a word he’d said before, on the fly: “baby.”

Hoseok snorts, and he actually swats at Seokjin’s chest, even if something strange and hot creeps up to his cheeks and ears.

“Don’t,” he warns, rolling his eyes when Seokjin starts laughing his characteristic windshield-wiper laugh.

Hoseok does end up buying Seokjin and himself another drink, and this time they cheer with their tequila shots before they down them at the same time. Hoseok hates tequila, he really does, and he knows that it’s stupid of him to drink even one shot of it because he knows he will start doing things he will regret. And yet, there he is, taking a second shot, and then, a second mojito.

Now, as it was stated before, Hoseok’s not new to the concept of gay clubs. Hoseok’s not new to hanging out with gay people, either. He’s not new to gay people kissing and being in love with each other while he’s in the immediate perimeter. He also considers himself an A+ ally of the LGBTQ movement, and he always listens attentively when Namjoon starts explaining things like why gay representation is so necessary in the media, or why the patriarchy sucks. Granted, he had a few fuckboy tendencies before, but he’s pretty sure he’s grown up since then and that he’s learnt a lot from the world, something he is thankful for.

However, Hoseok is new to getting hit on by people of his same gender.

He can’t complain considering that he is the outsider in this context, and that it’s him who is disrupting the harmony and peace of the environment with his cis-heterosexuality. He knows that just by being there he is giving permission for other guys to walk up to him and chat him up, and it’s not their fault that Hoseok isn’t actually gay.

But still, he’s very, very thankful for Seokjin.

The older man seems more used to getting hit on by guys, and it shows by how coolly he handles himself when men approach him every now and then. He lets them down easily, says he’s sorry with a (cute) pout as he puts his arm around Hoseok in a somewhat possessive gesture and leans his head against his, and the words “I’m with my boyfriend” sound so honest, they’d totally convince Hoseok if he himself wasn’t the fake boyfriend.

They keep on drinking like that. Talking about nothing and everything, laughing and joking around, but suddenly clinging to each other when somebody tries to pick either of them up. At a certain point, the entire thrill of it (and undoubtedly also the alcohol) gives Hoseok the confidence to plant a kiss on Seokjin’s cheek, a gesture that Seokjin retaliates the next time around. They keep getting closer to each other until suddenly they find themselves in a different position, with Hoseok’s back against the edge of the bar and Seokjin standing in front of him. The older man’s hand is on Hoseok’s waist, while Hoseok plays distractedly with the buttons of Seokjin’s shirt. It’s ridiculously couple-y, but also ridiculously effective. They haven’t had guys approach them since they went into de facto couple mode.

Seokjin’s probably on his fourth mojito, Hoseok stuck on his third (because he doesn’t want to get as wasted, though he’s still drunker than Seokjin), when another guy interrupts their conversation.

He’s clearly drunk himself, but his intention isn’t to pick any of them up.

He’s just waiting for his drink at the bar when he sees them.

“Oh my god, you guys are so cute together!” the guy says (nearly coos at them), really excited for some reason. Hoseok grins out of drunkenness and out of their plan working flawlessly, and he doubles his efforts by pulling Seokjin closer by the shirt so that he can lean his head on his chest. Seokjin, too, goes the extra mile, slipping his hand under Hoseok’s shirt even if it’s on the opposite side from the guy and he can’t really see it. Details.

“Like, you’re cute individually, but together? Jesus Christ—!” the guy continues, “you’re so boyfriendly without being trashy and all up on each other’s business in a public place. I love that.”

Seokjin laughs at that, and Hoseok feels the rumble of it in his chest.

“Thank you, I guess? You’re really nice!” he tells the guy, but the guy waves him off.

“Nah, I just know real love when I see it. So how did you guys meet each other?” the guy asks.

The question is easy, thankfully, and neither of them has to lie for it.

“College,” they say, in goddamn unison, and Hoseok’s tipsiness has him giggling like a fool.

“You’re college sweethearts, then?” the guy asks, his eyes nearly sparkling. “Shut up, that’s so cute. You’ve been together for a long time, then?”

“Weeell,” Seokjin starts, looking at Hoseok who is still giggling uncontrollably and ending up laughing himself. “Some seven years, I guess.”

Hoseok nods because, yup, seven years sounds about right. He knows the guy is probably asking about how long they’ve been a couple, but doesn’t have to know that they’re talking about the time they’ve been friends.

“Seven years? And you’re still together? Fuck, man, congratulations—! That’s true love right there,” he says, and Seokjin laughs as he thanks him again. Just then, the bartender gives the guy his drinks, and Seokjin takes that time to make a funny face at Hoseok. He raises an eyebrow down at him and makes a subtle gesture at the guy with his head, followed by a shrug, and Hoseok can’t help but think that, if they were actually dating each other, he wouldn’t be able to resist pulling Seokjin down into a kiss because that whole gesture was absolutely adorable. But they’re not dating. They’re not even into each other, and so Hoseok, just laughs softly and nods in agreement at... whatever it was that Seokjin tried to say with that gesture.

The guy leaves, then, but not without wishing them and their relationship all the luck in the world, and only after he’s gotten lost in the crowd, Seokjin allows himself to laugh for real.

Hoseok joins right in, leaning forwards out of reflex, pressing his face to the base of Seokjin’s neck and holding onto his bicep. Seokjin’s hand is still on his hip, his warm palm on Hoseok’s just-as-warm skin, and his fingers dig onto his flesh as he laughs. Hoseok’s a little too drunk to realize how intimate their position is, and even if he realized, he’d be a little too drunk to care.

“He really thought we’ve been dating for seven years!” Seokjin says, speaking into Hoseok’s ear, and Hoseok nods, pulling away while grinning brightly.

“I know, how ridiculous is that?” He comments, all the while his fingers trace the buttons of Seokjin’s shirt, from the ones that are undone at the top, to the ones around his midsection. “He even called us— what was it? College sweethearts?”

“And he said he knows true love when he sees it, too! I had no idea you were in love with me, baby,” the older man says, to which Hoseok just laughs and shrugs. His mind is hazy, and Seokjin’s hand feels good against his skin, but this is all just play flirting, he supposes.

“Well, neither did I, so I guess we’re even. Oh god, this is so much fun…” Hoseok comments, and Seokjin hums, nodding as he looks down at him. Looking up at him, he gets struck by a lot of sudden questions. Just now, they got lucky that the answers to the questions the guy asked where factual ones, but what if somebody asked them something more particular about their fake relationship? Say, who confessed first, or what their first date was, or how they spent their last anniversary (because, apparently, they’ve had seven so far).

That’s why, without thinking much (not that he can, considering his brain and blood cells are drowning in mojito and tequila at the moment), he says, “If somebody asks, let’s say you confessed first.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow at that, but he doesn’t seem put off in the slightest. In fact, his lips are actually quirking upwards into a little (and attractive?) smirk.

“I did?”

Hoseok nods his head.

“Yup. You did. In the rain.”

“In the rain?”

“Dramatic effect,” Hoseok explains, simply.

Seokjin clicks his tongue, but he nods, accepting it. “Okay, fine. I confessed in the rain, but only if we made out afterwards—”

“—obviously, but—” Hoseok tries to say, but Seokjin continues talking right over him.

“—and only if afterwards you caught a bad cold because of it and I had to take care of you for a few days,” Seokjin finishes, smirking smugly.

Hoseok blinks up at him but he ends up laughing and nodding his head. “Sounds good. Very much like a drama, but good. It’s very romantic, though. I didn’t know you had that in you, hyung.”

“Well, I do,” the older man replies, bringing his free hand to his face and blowing a hand kiss at him in a way too silly, way too over-the-top gesture that has Hoseok rolling his eyes and doing a vomiting gesture. Seokjin speaks again before too long, though. “And speaking about having things in you…” he starts, his words nearly making Hoseok choke on air because, woah, that took a little unexpected turn. Seokjin seems unfazed, though, a playful smile plastered on his (handsome) face. “I think we should decide who tops who.”

Hoseok looks up at Seokjin with his eyebrows raised as if asking ’really? Are we really doing this?’, but not because it’s an uncomfortable topic or anything like that. But because, well— does that question even need to be asked?

“Please,” Hoseok says, smirking confidently up at Seokjin. “It’s clearly me who tops.”

The older man cocks his head to the side, unconvinced.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I do.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “No, I do.”

“Oh, come on, what’s wrong with getting fucked every once in a while? Some people do it on the daily, and one of us has to if we want this fake-relationship to work! It’s fun, honestly.”

Hoseok’s jaw drops at Seokjin’s words and his eyes fly open. “It’s fun? How do you—? You’ve—? I mean… You said you’d never kissed a guy before, right, so how do you—?”

Seokjin laughs, shaking his head and interrupting his incoherent questions by placing a hand on his mouth. They must look pretty ridiculous, with Hoseok in his clubbing outfit and Seokjin in his office clothes, with Hoseok sandwiched between the bar and Seokjin’s (honestly pretty nice) body while they argue over make-pretend stuff.

“Pegging, Hoseok. It’s a thing, and it’s actually fun. It feels good. So I’m telling you, because I know: nothing wrong with getting fucked every once in a while,” the older man states as confidently as he can, though Hoseok can see his face darkening considerably with a blush under the lights of the club.

It’s the alcohol’s fault, it must be the alcohol’s fault, because all of a sudden, the image of Kim Seokjin, one of his best friends and current fake boyfriend, pops in his brain. Naked, on all fours, and getting fucked from behind, his hands scrambling for purchase on the bed blankets and his head throwing back while sounds of pleasure escape his throat.

There’s no way something like that isn’t the alcohol’s fault.

Hoseok coughs and shakes his head subtly, if only to get rid of such a (hot but inappropriate) image.

“But that settles it, then! You know what it’s like to get fucked, and you like it, right? So, you might as well,” Hoseok says, but Seokjin insists, shaking his head.

“No, I refuse. For starters, I’m your hyung and I’m taller than you. But who cares about that— Seokseok-ah, baby: have you seen your ass?”

Hoseok almost huffs.

“It’s flat,” he deadpans, trying not to think about the way the word baby sounds when coming from Seokjin’s lips directed towards him. It’s not good to think of something like that when you just pictured said Kim Seokjin getting fucked by an invisible person who may or may not be himself.

“It’s not. It’s a nice ass, in my opinion,” Seokjin says, and then— then Seokjin lowers his hand from where it was holding him by the hip. Perhaps Seokjin is just as drunk as Hoseok is, because his hand is suddenly hovering over his ass, following the curve of it through his tight black pants. It makes Hoseok’s breath hitch in his throat, and for some reason, it makes him look down to where their bodies are almost pressed together for a split second. It’s… Unusual, all of this. But it doesn’t feel wrong at all. He’s not thinking much; he just wants to get closer, and that’s new. “Okay, it’s no Jimin, but nobody can beat Jimin in the ass department. But it’s still a better ass than mine. Way better.”

Hoseok’s mouth is a little dry, and he has no better idea to get out of this situation than suggesting—

“Rock paper scissors?” He asks, putting his fist up between the two of them (but not doing anything to push Seokjin away). “It’s obvious neither of us is going to cede.”

Seokjin snorts, but he seems to like the idea. He moves his hand back to Hoseok’s hip, and he puts up the other in order to play.

“Alright. Rock paper scissors. No whining if you lose,” he warns, and Hoseok nods.

“Yeah, hyung, no whining,” he says, playfully, and then they start.

“Rock, paper, scissors—!”

Seokjin pulls out paper.

Hoseok pulls out fist.

Seokjin wins.

“Ha!” the older man whoops in victory, shaking his fist in the air triumphantly. “Yes, I win! Your ass is mine, now, officially.”

Hoseok doesn’t get mad, he really doesn’t, but he can’t help but roll his eyes at Seokjin’s reaction. “Yeah, yeah, whatever— but you know we can switch positions, right? Like, you don’t have to fuck me every single time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Seokjin assures him. He’s smiling in a way that is almost dark and his eyes hooded, and he looks so good. “I just really want to fuck you, you know?”

Hoseok nearly gasps at that, once again. He’s looking up at Seokjin, almost pressed up against his body, but definitely pressed up against the bar because of him. He’s got his hand still splayed on the elder’s chest, while Seokjin’s hand is underneath his shirt, his touch hot against his skin. It was a game. It was supposed to be a game, at least. It’s been a few hours since they started playing it, but now, there’s something dark and heady in Seokjin’s eyes as he looks down at him— something that Hoseok feels in himself as well.

Hoseok had pictured Seokjin on his knees, but it just occurred to him that maybe Seokjin had pictured him in the same position, in turn, and the idea of Seokjin fantasizing about him shouldn’t be so hot.

It’s a game. A stupid, silly, ridiculous game that got a little bit out of hand, and now Hoseok is getting turned on.

“A-Anyway,” Hoseok says, cutting the tension that had built around them like a house of cards and breaking it to pieces. He pushes Seokjin away, gently, and he moves away so he can get a hand on his abandoned third mojito. He doesn’t add anything else because he has no idea what you can say to a friend who just admitted to wanting to fuck you (right after you imagined yourself fucking them. It’s rough, okay?)

All he does is knock down both, what was left of his drink, and his third untouched tequila shot.

Lucky for him, Yoongi and Namjoon appear a few moments later, before awkwardness even has a chance to appear.

“Hey, guys, are you having fun? You look like someone died,” Yoongi says, eyeing them warily. “Maybe you should’ve worn a clown costume after all, Hoseok-ah.”

“Ha-ha,” Hoseok replies, but he can’t help but laugh when he sees Yoongi is grinning at his own dumb joke. It’s actually way funnier now, with three drinks and three shots in his system. Maybe if he had worn a clown costume, nobody would’ve tried hitting on him. “Nah, we’re having fun. The mojitos are great. They’re so good, actually, but I gotta ask, why are there so many shirtless dudes in this place?”

“I’ve actually never known myself,” Namjoon answers, laughing. “Are you drunk? Are you really having fun? We’re thinking of heading back.”

“Where are the others?” Seokjin asks, curiously.

“They went back already,” Yoongi replies.

“Oh.”

“Together,” he adds, and Seokjin gasps, nodding almost solemnly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says. “So, are you coming with us or not? Not in that way, obviously.”

Hoseok snorts at Yoongi’s lame joke, but he nods at him. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

It turned out that Yoongi and Namjoon disappeared moments ago because they went to the rest room on the upper level, and, apparently, Namjoon nearly slipped on his way out of it and ended up knocking over a bucket with soap water. It was a mess, and people kept on slipping on it, but Namjoon slipped first, and he hurt his ankle when he fell. He didn’t sprain or twist it or anything, but of course it hurt him, so they stayed on one of the lounges of the club until Namjoon felt alright to walk again.

Seokjin couldn’t stop laughing as Yoongi told them the story of what happened while he drove, and honestly neither could Hoseok. He could totally imagine the utter chaos that Namjoon had accidentally wreaked all the while hurting himself in the process.

Seokjin is sitting next to Hoseok in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, a full empty seat between the two of them. The windows are slightly rolled down, so there is a chilly breeze messing up their hairs and their clothes, but if Hoseok looks in Seokjin’s direction he knows his face will heat up right away in spite of the cold air.

So he doesn’t look at him.

It’s tense, honestly, more so than in the club. Not awkward, just… Heavy and electric with a strange kind of tension.

“How about you, though, did you really have fun? Or was this gay adventure way too much for you?” Yoongi asks, looking at Hoseok through the rearview mirror.

“It wasn’t too much, hyung, who do you take me for? I told you, it was awesome. Very fun. I don’t even resent you for ditching me anymore, now that I know that you were helping Namjoonie. Also, I had Jin-hyung to keep me company, so it was nice,” Hoseok says, though he doesn’t look at Seokjin.

“We got hit on,” Seokjin chirps in, then, sitting closer to the edge, but also closer to the middle. Closer to Hoseok. “Like, so many times. We could’ve had free alcohol all night if we’d wanted to.”

Hoseok ends up laughing at that.

“When you put it like that, it sounds like we should’ve accepted,” he says, finally looking at Seokjin, and shit, he really shouldn’t have. Seokjin was looking at him already, so their eyes met when he turned his head towards him. He’s smiling wide, and he looks so handsome with the wind whipping through his black hair and making his blue shirt flap and flutter. He looks so handsome, he’s always been handsome, but looking at him now, all Hoseok can hear in his head is I just really want to fuck you, over and over again.

It makes him shiver subtly, and despite himself, it makes him move a little closer.

“Nah,” Seokjin says, and his voice sounds really clear in Hoseok’s ears— nothing at all like the way it sounded like in the club, muffled by the loud music. “I had fun with you. Those guys would’ve ruined it.”

They keep on talking, though Hoseok gets a little lost in the conversation. It’s mostly just Namjoon and Yoongi talking back and forth, really, with the occasional input from Seokjin and Hoseok, but somewhere along the way, driven by a dark impulse, Hoseok puts his hand on Seokjin’s leg. Just above his knee, through his perfectly-fitting black slacks.

Seokjin’s hand ends up on his leg, too, a little further upwards, but still on relatively tame territory.

They look at each other, and Seokjin smiles as if asking Hoseok if it’s okay, and Hoseok— Hoseok nods, and he moves his hand a little further upwards to be at Seokjin’s same level. Seokjin chuckles softly while Namjoon and Yoongi argue about something, but then he leans forward to whisper into Hoseok’s ear, his soft lips caressing Hoseok’s ear in the way and making him shiver.

“What do you think they’d say if we asked them which one of us would top?” Seokjin asks him, half casual, half something else, and his breath kinda smells like the mint and rum of the mojitos. His words make Hoseok’s breath hitch, but also laugh as he pulls back to look at Seokjin with wide eyes.

“If you ask them, I’ll kill you with my own bare hands,” he threatens, but Seokjin just laughs as he starts stroking Hoseok’s leg with his hand, slowly and subtly, but purposefully. His fingers drag over the tight fabric of Hoseok’s pants, and the feeling is making him dizzy. The alcohol already has him dizzy, but Seokjin is making it all worse, with his minty breath and the way it fans against his ear, with the way he touches his leg, and with the way his voice keeps resounding in his head, I just really want to fuck you, I just really want to fuck you, time and time again.

“What are you talking about? What’s this about ‘killing’ you’re saying, and can it wait until you’re not in my car?” Yoongi says, and Seokjin snorts.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing. We were… We were just talking,” Hoseok reassures Yoongi, sending Seokjin a look that is somewhere between a smirk and a death glare and a look of complicity.

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, returning the Hoseok’s look with one of his own before he looks up at Yoongi. “Yoongi-chi, you’re driving to my place first, right? How about you just drop Hoseok there, so you don’t have to make a stupid turnabout afterwards?”

Hoseok’s jaw drops at that.

Fuck, Seokjin is taking him home with him; he wants to take him home. It’s— is it happening?

He unconsciously curls his fingers and squeezes on the flesh of Seokjin’s thigh to call his attention. When Seokjin looks at him, his smirk is still very much in place. The idea is actually good— if Hoseok stops to think about it (or to try to think about it, considering he’s still quite drunk), he knows it’s the best thing for them to do. He does live pretty far from Seokjin, after all, and Yoongi would save a lot of gas if he just dropped him in his place.

And not only that, but there is something strange crawling under Hoseok’s skin. He doesn’t know when it started, but it was definitely while Seokjin and he were at the bar and all up in each other’s square meter. The hand that Seokjin has on his thigh is only adding fuel to this strange, unusual kind of fire that is spreading through his nervous system, and the hand that he has on Seokjin’s thigh is tempted to move further up for a reason he can’t pinpoint. It is happening.

I just really want to fuck you.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, holding the older man’s gaze and unconsciously licking his lips while still doing eye contact. “Yeah, hyung, that’d be great, actually. Just drop me off at Jin-hyung’s.”

Yoongi agrees, and he also thanks them for their consideration too, but Hoseok isn’t listening. All he can see is Seokjin’s eyes and the way they look at him, and Seokjin’s lips and the way he nibbles on them. All he can feel is Seokjin’s hand, touching his thigh in a way that shouldn’t be so enticing. All he can hear is Seokjin’s words, echoing in his head, once again.

I just really want to fuck you.

Honestly, at this point, Hoseok thinks he really wants that too.

Something weird happens on their way up to Seokjin’s apartment.

They’re in silence as they cross the lobby, but Hoseok takes Seokjin’s hand in his for some impulsive, reckless reason. Seokjin, though, he not only accepts it, but he also intertwines their fingers together as they wait for the elevator.

“Do you still live in floor two thousand?” Hoseok asks as conversationally as he can, even if he’s so nervous he’s sweating. His hands are sweating, too. Why the fuck did he take Seokjin’s hand when he was sweating? Jesus Christ, he’s so stupid—

“Thirty-eight, but yes. I would’ve told you if I’d moved,” Seokjin says, and it’s actually relieving that he sounds just as nervous as Hoseok feels.

Good. It isn’t just him, then.

It’s awkward, but at the same time it isn’t. It’s just Jin, after all— one of Hoseok’s best friends in the entire world. They’ve known each other for ages and have had the craziest adventures together; what’s another one? And anyway, Hoseok doesn’t even know if what he thinks is going to happen will actually happen, so maybe it’s all just in his head.

The elevator ride feels eternal, and when they’re finally in front of Seokjin’s door, the seconds only stretch longer and longer. The jingling sound of Seokjin’s keys sounds extremely loud in the quiet hall— it’s almost making Hoseok go deaf, and watching Seokjin try over and over again to get the key in the keyhole is making him lose his mind.

“Jesus, hyung, you can’t even get the key in the keyhole and you want to fuck me?” Hoseok says, and he has no excuse for it other than he’s stupid, he’s nervous, (he’s horny), and he’s drunk.

As if on cue, he gets the key in the keyhole, but he stops moving for a moment and everything goes quiet for a couple of long, unbearable seconds. When he turns to look at Hoseok, his face is almost red under the bright white lights of the hall, his mouth open, and his eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights.

“I—” he starts, but he stops himself, as if unsure of what to say. He swallows thickly before trying again. “Hoseok, I—!”

“—hey, hey, hyung, relax, I was just kidding…!” Hoseok interrupts before Seokjin can say anything, shaking his hands in front of him to calm the older man down. He’s still sweating, and the way his voice seems to bounce off the bare walls of the hall is only making him even more nervous. “Sorry. It was a stupid joke. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Seokjin pauses, looking at Hoseok in the eyes for a moment and blinking twice, as if processing his words.

“Oh,” he says, softly, before looking away and back at the door, to push it open. “A joke. Yeah. I knew that.”

As soon as he steps inside, Seokjin takes off his shoes as fast as he can, kicking them off despite them being expensive dress shoes, and he quickly steps into his house slippers. Hoseok follows right after him, kicking off his own shoes off but not bothering with slippers as he follows Seokjin into his apartment.

“So, uh, I can offer you the couch if that’s okay. There’s blankets in the closet, and if you get cold you can—” Seokjin rambles, heading down the hall without even bothering to turn the lights on, and Hoseok— he’s not having any of this. Not after everything they talked about in the club. Not after all those lingering touches that maybe shouldn’t have turned him on as much as they did. Not after getting that stupid image of him fucking Seokjin engraved into his brain, followed by one of Seokjin fucking him. Not after hearing Seokjin say that he really wanted to fuck him.

If they had fucked up their friendship already, then they might as well do it with a bang.

“—Hyung, wait, hold up!” Hoseok calls, reaching for Seokjin’s arm and gripping it tightly to make him turn around towards him. Once Seokjin is facing him, Hoseok doesn’t let go of him. He takes a step closer to him, instead, only then becoming aware of how ragged their breaths sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. Hoseok’s heart is beating like crazy, thundering in his chest and echoing behind his ears, and when his eyes find Seokjin’s, he knows that he isn’t doing much better.

His eyes are dark, the tips of his ears several shades darker as well, and it’s not just because the lights of the apartment are off. Hoseok is probably in a similar state himself, but he can’t bring himself to care or to even think much about it. Right now, he only has eyes for Seokjin, which is undoubtedly the biggest plot-twist of his entire existence.

“Hyung,” Hoseok repeats, swallowing hard and licking his lips as his eyes travel over Seokjin’s face. His hand moves lower to take the older man’s in his, and he intertwines their fingers again. He takes one last breath before finally deciding to go for it. “Don’t kill me for this.”

And with that said, he surges forward, his free hand cupping the side of Seokjin’s face and pulling it down towards him.

He kisses Seokjin.

He actually kisses Seokjin on the fucking mouth because every cell in his body is telling him that he will combust if he doesn’t do it. He kisses Seokjin even if less than twelve hours ago he hadn’t even considered kissing another man at all.

He kisses Kim Seokjin, one of his (heterosexual) best friends, and against every odd, Kim Seokjin kisses him back from the get go.

The older man groans against Hoseok’s mouth the moment their lips touch, and he even steps closer in a way that makes their chests and their entire bodies press together. Seokjin was more than ready for it, and Hoseok can tell by the way his arms easily wound themselves around his waist like they’ve done all night, except this time it’s with his both hands splayed over Hoseok’s lower back, mere centimeters away from his ass.

Hoseok’s never kissed a guy up to this moment, but it feels amazing. At least Seokjin feels amazing— his lips are plush and soft, his mouth wet and demanding against his own. The feeling of his strong jaw moving under Hoseok’s hand is strangely sexy, as is the subtle feeling of stubble against his fingers. Seokjin’s chest is as flat as his own, and he’s taller than him, broader than him— everything is new, and it’s a lot to take in, but Hoseok’s brain is already drowning in the pleasure he’s getting out of everything.

He can’t help but sigh when Seokjin’s hands move lower, grabbing his ass through his pants, but then he squeezes at it and pulls him closer so that their lower halves are pressed together. It feels so unfamiliar, so solid, and so good, that Hoseok lets out a low moan against Seokjin’s mouth.

“Fuck, hyung,” he curses, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s neck and burying his fingers in his hair. He tugs on it experimentally, and Seokjin groans in a mix of pain and pleasure. His voice is low and gruffy, nothing at all like a girl’s, but it’s riling Hoseok up like nothing he’s ever heard before.

They can’t stop kissing, even as Seokjin presses Hoseok against the closest wall and pins him hard against it. Never in a thousand years would Hoseok believe he’d end up making out with Seokjin against the wall. Never. And yet, there he is, clinging desperately at Seokjin’s hair and at Seokjin’s shoulders while their tongues slide together filthily, their hips bumping and grinding against each other’s in a way that sends jolts of electricity and pleasure through Hoseok’s nervous system. Seokjin’s lips are so thick and full that Hoseok can’t stop nibbling on them and sucking them into his mouth like they’re candy, all the while the elder’s hands roam his body. His large, rough, and manly hands.

It’s a lot.

When Seokjin pulls away to start pressing wet kisses down Hoseok’s neck, their hips end up pressing together, and the feeling sends a rush of pleasure through his body. He throws his head back against the wall, and he moans again— since when is he as responsive and sensitive? He doesn’t remember ever getting riled up this easily.

“This is okay with you, right?” Seokjin asks roughly against Hoseok’s neck, and Hoseok can’t help but laugh breathlessly, his fingers tangling and pulling on Seokjin’s hair, bringing him closer.

“What do you think?” he gasps out, arching his back off the wall to chase the feeling of Seokjin’s body against his. Seokjin laughs, but the sound comes out choked and breathy when Hoseok grinds against him.

“So… Bed?” the older man asks, pulling backwards to look at Hoseok with a raised eyebrow. His lips are parted, swollen, and glistening with spit, his hair completely messed up, and his chest rising and falling quickly as he struggles to catch his breath. It’s amazing to know that Hoseok is responsible for all of that (Even if he would rather not dwell too much on the implications of it).

He nods, looking straight into Seokjin’s eyes. “Fuck yes.”

If anyone had told Hoseok that morning that he would end up in Seokjin’s bed by the end of the night, kissing and undressing each other with desperation, he would’ve laughed at first, but he would’ve never believed it. However, that’s exactly where he is right now, sitting on the older man’s bed, his legs spread to make room for Seokjin to kneel between them while they kiss hard. Seokjin pulls his shirt off almost roughly, and as Hoseok struggles to undo the buttons of the older man’s shirt, he ends up getting pushed back against the mattress.

Once Seokjin is shirtless, Hoseok can’t help but run his hands over his broad chest and shoulders. His mind is fuzzy, but he’s not sure that it’s the alcohol’s fault anymore.

“This is so weird,” he says, loving the feeling of Seokjin’s firm body and the way he’s towering above him . This is by far the most surprising turn of events of his life: touching Seokjin and liking it. He runs his hands down Seokjin’s chest, grazing his nipples with his fingernails as he does so.

“Good weird?” Seokjin asks, shivering under Hoseok’s hands as he accommodates on top of him, and shit, is that his dick pressing up against Hoseok’s through the fabric of their pants? Why does Hoseok want to feel more of it? He’s getting so hard that his tight pants are almost starting to hurt. Seokjin’s supporting his weight with one hand (and please don’t get Hoseok started on the way his muscles look as he holds his body on top of him), but he runs the other one all the way up from Hoseok’s abdomen, touching over his chest, and up to his face, where he settles it firmly just beneath his jaw.

“Definitely good weird,” Hoseok replies, and he’s only slightly taken back by how confidently he says it. He teases one of Seokjin’s nipples with his fingers once more to see his reaction, and when the older man groans, he gets an unbearable urge to bring his fingers to his mouth, lick them until they’re coated in spit, and then rub against Seokjin’s nipple again, this time way more intently. Seokjin pretty much moans, and the sound is low and gruffy and turning Hoseok on a lot more than it should. “Fuck, you like that, hyung?”

Seokjin nods, his eyelids shutting at the feeling, and Hoseok curses again under his breath.

“You’re more sensitive there than many girls I’ve been with, what the fuck, that’s so hot,” he comments, and Seokjin actually laughs at that even if it’s breathless and kinda choked up.

“Where are you sensitive, though?” the older man asks, his thumb rubbing circles against Hoseok’s cheek while his hips move subtly against his own. The feeling is setting his insides on fire, if he’s honest, and Seokjin’s next words have an actual groan leaving his mouth. “I wanna touch you there.”

It’s really too much.

“Other than my dick? Not many places that I know of, actually. But I gotta tell you, you’re doing wonders so far,” Hoseok admits, and Seokjin laughs again. It’s the same laugh he’s been hearing for years, energic and honest, but this time it has a low, sexy tone to it. It feels even sexier and more intimate considering that their mouths are only a few centimeters away, and that they’ve spent almost (or maybe even more than) an entire hour kissing the living daylights out of each other.

“Thank you, I’m just going with what my instincts tell me. You aren’t bad at all, either,” Seokjin says, letting his eyes wander down Hoseok’s face and down his body for a brief moment. When he looks back up at his and their gazes connect again, he smirks. He lets go of Hoseok’s jaw and he runs his hand down his body all the way until it’s hovering right over his dick. He’s exerting pressure, palming him through his tight pants and his underwear, and the feeling is amazing, if only not quite enough. Hoseok’s breath hitches and his hips lift off the bed slightly to get more of Seokjin’s touch, which makes the older man’s smirk grow. “I’ve never touched a dick before, you know.”

“Fuck— Aside from your own, you mean?” Hoseok says, jokingly, attempting a sly grin even if Seokjin’s hand feels really good against him and it’s distracting him.

“Don’t be a smartass,” the older man tuts, sternly, just as he undoes the button of his pants. He sits up between Hoseok’s legs, then, pushing them further apart to make more room for himself before he starts pulling Hoseok’s zipper down. “Not gonna lie, this is both exciting and scary.”

Hoseok’s breath is coming out raggedly, and his brain is nearly short-circuiting merely at the sight of Seokjin pulling his pants down a little bit, just so that they aren’t constraining him anymore. It’s relieving, for a moment, but before Hoseok can get used to it, Seokjin’s hand is cupping his erection again, fingers curling up around it through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs as best as they can.

“Hyung, what—” Hoseok gasps, his hips involuntarily bucking upwards against Seokjin’s hand. “Shit, you’re only teasing now. Come on, cut it out— if you’re gonna touch me, just touch me, alright? Don’t torture me.”

“I told you this is scary, Hoseok, give me some time to get familiarized! I can’t just go and suck your dick like I’ve been doing it for years, let me get used to it at first!”

Hoseok’s eyes widen at Seokjin’s words and he feels as if the air has gotten punched out of his lungs, but he sits up on the bed, supporting his body with his elbows to look down at Seokjin.

“You’re gonna— You wanna suck me off?”

Seokjin shrugs with those broad shoulders of his while his hand moves against his dick, fingers and palm tracing it through his underwear. “I like giving oral, and I’m good at it. I mean, I’ve never given a blowjob before, but how different can it be? I figured I might as well try, since we’re already here… Unless you don’t want it?”

His voice sounds almost earnest when he says that, and he even stops stroking Hoseok’s dick until the younger tells him that, “oh, no, please— I-I’d love it. I think. It sounds good, yeah.”

After that, Seokjin doesn’t waste much time.

He gives a few encouraging words to himself before he finally pulls Hoseok’s pants down the rest of the way, followed by his boxers. It’s a little embarrassing for Hoseok, but he doesn’t have much time to feel self-conscious or insecure about being completely naked and rock-hard in front of (and underneath) one of his best friends, because said friend’s lips are around his cock before he can think too much.

He curses, and his hands fly to Seokjin’s hair as he takes him into his mouth.

Now, Hoseok has received plenty of blowjobs throughout his life, but this feels like a first all over again.

Seokjin is clearly inexperienced, but what he doesn’t have in technique he makes up in enthusiasm. If Hoseok closes his eyes, there’s not much difference to when it’s a girl doing it— there’s the same hot and tight feeling, the same slide of lips against sensitive flesh, the same maddening feeling of a wet tongue curling around him. Except for the feeling of Seokjin’s large hands wrapped around the base of his cock and holding his hips down to the mattress, it’s pretty much the same.

However, Hoseok doesn’t want to close his eyes.

He keeps himself upright, holding himself up with his elbows so that he can watch how his cock disappears between Seokjin’s lips, how his cheeks hollow around it, and how he looks up to meet his eyes. It’s not heterosexual at all, none of this is, but Hoseok can’t bring himself to care because it feels really fucking good. Seokjin doesn’t take him in that deeply, but that’s alright— the feeling of his hand stroking him around the base more than compensates. Hoseok has no idea how much time passes until his whole body is shaking, the heat at the pit of his stomach threatening to burst every time that Seokjin’s tongue circles around the tip of his dick. He’s really, really close—

“Hyung,” he says, not without difficulty, his fingers tightening around Seokjin’s hair and his eyes hypnotized by how unexpectedly hot Seokjin looks with his thick lips around his cock. “Hyung, I’m gonna—”

Seokjin seems to understand just in time, because he hums lowly before pulling his mouth away. He finishes Hoseok off with his hand, stroking hard and fast while looking up into his eyes, and it’s too much. Seokjin’s lips, parted and swollen and wet with spit and precum; Seokjin’s eyes, a mix of lust and want but also of curiosity; Seokjin’s hand, slightly rougher and a lot bigger to what he’s used to. It’s a lot, and Hoseok comes, tugging on Seokjin’s hair and bucking his hips upwards, and Seokjin— Seokjin leans closer again so that Hoseok’s cum lands over his parted lips, his lush and beautiful and wrecked lips.

“What the fuck, hyung,” Hoseok says, eloquently, once his orgasm has subdued. His hair is sticking to his forehead, he’s breathing hard, and the weight of pleasure finally has him falling back on the mattress. His eyes close as he tries to catch his breath, but he can hear the soft sound of Seokjin’s laughter and the way he gets up from the bed and moves around the room, followed by the tell-tale sound of facial tissues getting pulled from a box. When Hoseok turns his head to look at him he sees him cleaning the cum off his lips, and wow.

He’s not drunk anymore, and he just came so he’s not really horny anymore, but Seokjin looks almost ethereal standing there. He’s shirtless, his upper body bathed in the soft blue light that comes in through the open window, his hard dick straining against the front of his office slacks, and a stain of cum that he hasn’t cleaned yet glistening between the top of his upper lip and his nose.

“Okay, good news: sucking dick isn’t bad at all,” Seokjin says once his face is clean, and Hoseok can’t help but snort at his words.

“I can’t believe this was your dick sucking debut— what the hell, hyung? It’s like you were born for this,” Hoseok says. Seokjin snickers as he makes his way back to the bed, and before Hoseok is aware of it, he reaches out for Seokjin and pulls him down on the bed with him so that he’s lying down next to him.

“I told you I was good with my mouth,” he says, jokingly, though it isn’t really a joke.

Hoseok’s not (that) drunk anymore, and he’s not (that) horny anymore, but he still kisses Seokjin once he’s settled beside him. He has no excuse for it other than it felt like the right thing to do. He cups the older man’s cheek with his hand to keep his face close, and Seokjin hums lowly as he nibbles on Hoseok’s lower lip and licks into his mouth. The kiss is slower than their previous one, but it’s no less heated— it hasn’t slipped Hoseok’s mind that Seokjin has yet to come, and it almost makes him shiver to think he’ll be the one to bring him to the edge. None of this is “straight” or “no homo” anymore, but Hoseok is enjoying himself too much to care.

He slips his leg between Seokjin’s to press his thigh against his clothed dick, and when Seokjin moans lowly into the kiss it only beckons Hoseok to push further. He’s so into it— into the feeling of Seokjin’s bulge pressing against his bare thigh, into the slide of their tongues, into the way Seokjin’s hands are clinging to his hair and the way Seokjin’s body feels under his hands. He runs his hands over his skin, but he focuses on his nipples, remembering that he liked being touched there.

He teases until Seokjin pinches his side almost painfully.

“Jung Hoseok,” the older man says, a warning edge on his otherwise breathless voice, and when Hoseok pulls back he receives a threatening glare.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hoseok apologizes, offering Seokjin a smile. “I’ll get to it now.”

A few seconds later, he’s pushing Seokjin back against the mattress and latching his mouth to the older man’s neck as his hands fumble with his belt, his button, and his zipper. He pulls Seokjin’s pants down to his midthighs along with his underwear, and his heart is beating loud and fast in his chest as a thrilling mixture of anticipation and dread floods his brain.

He’s really about to jerk his friend off after getting his dick sucked by him, and what’s more, he’s enjoying the hell out of everything. It feels like years ago when he said that he might consider kissing a guy for science, or when he heard Seokjin say that he might do it as well, but only if he was either very drunk or very into the guy, but it was only a few hours ago.

(A small part of Hoseok wants to believe it’s the latter because he, for one, isn’t that drunk.)

The sound that escapes Seokjin’s lips when he wraps his hand around his cock is unreal. It’s somewhere between a choked moan and a grunt, and it fuels him like nothing he’s ever heard before. It’s admittedly strange to touch another person’s dick (especially Kim Seokjin’s, of all people), but it’s not bad— it’s bigger than his own, thicker than his own, and it curves differently, and Hoseok can’t deny he’s having a little too much fun with it. Seokjin is so responsive to his touches, and he keeps on bucking his hips to thrust into his hand. Hoseok can’t help but think about what Seokjin said about wanting to fuck him, and a fraction of his mind hopes that they do get to do that, eventually.

It isn’t until Hoseok gets the brilliant idea of kissing down from Seokjin’s neck and rubbing the tip of his tongue against Seokjin’s nipple that the older man lets out an actual, honest-to-god moan.

“Shit, do that again,” he says, his crooked fingers tangling on the sweaty hair at Hoseok’s nape and pulling him closer against his chest. Hoseok would’ve laughed at Seokjin’s insistence under different circumstances, but as it is he can’t help but comply. He licks and sucks on Seokjin’s nipple while he works him with his hand, flicking his wrist as best as he can even if it’s kind of difficult from the angle he’s at. He doesn’t care if his arm is starting to hurt, Seokjin’s sounds of pleasure are music to his ears, and he finds himself doubling his efforts, stroking him faster and faster while he licks and sucks his nipple into his mouth.

All of a sudden, Seokjin is pushing his mouth away from his chest by pulling on his hair, and before Hoseok can ask what’s going on, Seokjin is crashing their mouths together into a lip-searing kiss.

Seokjin curses, his thrusts become more erratic against Hoseok’s hand, and a few seconds after, he’s coming; jaw slacked, eyes closed, and a quiet groan spilling into Hoseok’s mouth, and fuck, it’s hot. Until that day, Hoseok could confidently say he had never once thought about Seokjin’s orgasm face, but now he doubts he’ll ever be able to get it out of his head. Part of his cum lands on Hoseok’s stomach, and that’s strangely hot as well; it makes him remember how Seokjin let him come on his fucking lips, of all places, and how erotic the sight of it was.; it makes him think about whether Seokjin would like if he did that, next time, maybe, if there ever was a next time.

It takes Seokjin a while, but when he’s more or less recovered, it’s him who chases Hoseok’s lips and presses a kiss to them. It’s brief and intense, but also lazy— it lacks all the pent-up tension from before. It’s a nice way to cool down, though, even if Hoseok doesn’t really know where to put his cum-covered hand without dirtying Seokjin or his bed sheets.

“That was, uhm… Interesting,” Seokjin says once they pull away.

Hoseok hums thoughtfully, noticing the slight smile on Seokjin’s face and smiling right back.

“Yeah. Interesting. It was fun, for sure,” he comments, before finally (reluctantly) sitting up on the bed, feeling a blush climbing high on his cheeks. “Do you have, uh… Tissues? My hand…”

“Oh, yeah— on the dresser,” Seokjin says, chuckling softly to himself. “Could you hand me a few, please?”

“Sure,” before standing up, Hoseok puts on his underwear, trying not to think about how stupid it is that he feels embarrassed now after Seokjin literally had his dick in his mouth; trying not to think about how odd it is that he wants it to happen again.

When Seokjin offers him to stay, Hoseok is in no position to refuse. After the high of alcohol and lust are gone, he becomes aware of how exhausted he actually is, and getting under the covers of Seokjin’s bed with Seokjin beside him is the easiest thing in the world. It’s still weird, though— Seokjin’s leg is firm and hairy against his own, his feet are big, and he and his bed smell like a pleasant brand of aftershave. It’s a lot to wrap his head around, but the last thing Hoseok wants to do right now is think.

He’ll just allow himself to enjoy it for now, he decides, turning around to face Seokjin and inching closer to him on the bed.

The older man’s eyes are closed and he’s lying down, stiff like a fucking plank— a clear sign that he’s most likely overthinking—, so Hoseok pats him on the shoulder, impatiently. Seokjin frowns in confusion, opening his eyes blearily and looking up at Hoseok questioningly.

“Wha—?”

“Turn around. I wanna cuddle, and you’re gonna be the little spoon,” the younger demands as firmly as he can, and for the few seconds that Seokjin doesn’t reply he gets a sinking feeling. Perhaps cuddling is too much? Perhaps he crossed a line he shouldn’t have?

But then Seokjin smiles and he shakes his head in amusement, and relief washes over Hoseok’s body. The older man turns around so that his back is facing Hoseok.

His broad, broad back, and the stupid loose tank top he put on to bed that accentuates his shoulders and his arms.

It’s awful. Hoseok moves closer so that his slimmer chest is right against Seokjin’s back, and he puts his arm around him. He’s smaller than Seokjin, and right now, spooning him from behind and hugging him like a koala, it’s clearer than ever. But it’s nice, regardless. Their (hairy) legs tangle under the blankets, and it’s nice. Seokjin settles back against his chest, humming in contentment, and it’s really nice. Hoseok buries his nose against the back of Seokjin’s hair and breathes in his shampoo and his cologne, and it’s the nicest.

“Hey, Seokseok-ah,” Seokjin says, suddenly, his voice soft and sleepy. Hoseok was close to falling asleep himself, so he only hums questioningly in response. “If you stick around tomorrow morning, we can try and figure out how gay sex works. You know… Since we’re already here we might as well, right? No pressure, though.”

Hoseok nearly chokes on his own spit.

“I, uh,” he stammers, his voice muffled by Seokjin’s silky black hair. “Alright. I mean, if it’s for science...”

Seokjin chuckles. “Yeah. For science.”