Archive of Our Own

The girl sitting in front of Thanos had the tips of her hair dyed red and her lips painted the exact same color. Inked, pierced, with a bunch of necklaces around her neck spilling down toward the deep neckline of her blouse – at which Thanos, out of sheer habit, would start staring every now and then. A chick totally his type, though he didn’t really have a defined type. If someone’s a bad bitch, they’re a bad bitch, end of story, Thanos never bothered with the whole “do you prefer blondes or brunettes” thing. Anyway, it didn’t matter now. The chick couldn’t stop going on about her ex, and Thanos was too pissed that Namgyu had taken the night off work at the last minute to actually put his heart into flirting with her. He couldn’t stop glancing toward the bar, as if expecting the skinny nineteen-year-old behind it to magically turn into the familiar figure of his best friend. Once, he even thought it had actually happened. He caught a glimpse of that familiar gesture of brushing hair out of the face, recognized that smile flashing in the glow of the Pentagon club’s fluorescent lights. But before he could get up and head toward Namgyu, he realized it wasn’t him at all – just the drugs in his bloodstream messing with his picture of reality. The fucking junkie had probably texted his boss about some made-up cold so he could, for once, get high at home instead of at work, leaving Thanos stuck paying for the drinks. He pulled that shit about once a month, but Thanos got just as angry every time. For a second, he thought about leaving the club and heading over to his friend’s place, pounding on the door with a yell full of reproach. But then he remembered that they’d already made plans for tomorrow. They’re gonna drop acid and play on Namgyu’s old, busted console, the one he’d probably gotten back when he was still a kid.

“If I ever heard he’d stopped doing so many drugs, maybe I’d go back to him, but…”
Up until now, the red-haired girl’s voice had just been pouring into Thanos’s ears as meaningless background noise. He didn’t give a shit why she broke up with her ex, and even if he had the slightest bit of interest in the story, he was so high right now that by tomorrow he wouldn’t remember the conversation anyway, so why bother pretending to be engaged? But then she said something that jolted him out of planning how he was going to punish Namgyu tomorrow for not telling him he’d taken the night off.

“Wait, what, you broke up with him because of the drugs?” he asked, and the dry look she shot him suggested she’d already explained the whole thing to him in detail in the past ten minutes.

“My bad, I kinda spaced out,” he added after a moment, when she kept silently skewering him with her stare. “Can you repeat what was so bad about him using?”

The chick looked at him like he’d just grown a dick in the middle of his forehead. Seriously, what the hell was she even doing in the Pentagon club if she was one of those people who judged others for wanting to have a little fun sometimes? He wondered if she had any clue just how fucked up Thanos was right now. Maybe that was why she was sitting on the other side of the table instead of on his lap, or instead of blowing him in the bathroom, the big one in the back of the club. The same bathroom he and Namgyu used to lock themselves in to snort coke. Jesus fuck, it was such a shame Namgyu wasn’t here now. Thanos missed him like a limb.

The girl sighed, but apparently decided to humor him and tell the same story a second time.

“Our whole relationship revolved around it. He was already using when I met him, but not that much. Mostly weed, sometimes molly, some psychedelics at parties. Then, bit by bit, he started trying literally anything that came his way. And when you spend all your time with someone who’s permanently high, sooner or later you start using too. I never went as deep as he did, thank God, but like I said, our whole relationship was built on that. Meeting up just to get high together, fucking only after we’d done drugs. A relationship can’t be like that. Then came the money problems, so he started stealing, getting into debt, getting in trouble with the law. I left when we were about to get evicted. Went to rehab. Honestly, it wasn’t even my decision, my friends forced me into it, pulled me out. He wouldn’t accept any help, probably still drowning in that shit. And I still love him, really, but you just can’t live like that.”

“No?” Thanos scratched his chin. He was struggling to keep up with her frustration-fueled monologue, but he managed to catch the main point – that the life she’d had with her ex looked suspiciously similar to the one he had with Namgyu.

Not that he and Namgyu were in a relationship, nothing like that. They didn’t live together either, though Thanos had been meaning to suggest it for ages but kept forgetting. Naturally, they weren’t fucking, at least not that he could remember. But most of their meetups were exactly that: getting together to do drugs. Both had money problems, their trouble with the law kept to a minimum for now, but who knew what the future would bring.

“No. And if you do, it’s not gonna be a long and happy life.”

Thanos scratched his chin again. He was pretty happy with his life. Just because this chick didn’t like that lifestyle didn’t mean it was some universal truth. And she was saying all this in a tone like she thought she was better than him. Seriously, she was starting to piss him off.

He was about to stand up, ditch the drinks on Namgyu’s tab as a punishment for bailing on work without telling him, and then head over to his friend’s place to watch some bullshit on YouTube for the rest of the night. But then a horrific thought hit him, pinning him back into the sticky, booze-stained leather of his seat. What if Namgyu was on the redhead’s side? What if one day he told Thanos he’d had enough of that life and fucked off to rehab? I mean – Thanos had to remind himself – they weren’t in a relationship. But Namgyu was more than a relationship. If some chick dumped Thanos over drugs, he wouldn’t give a shit. Hell, that probably had already happened at some point and Thanos didn’t even remember who it was and when. But if Namgyu cut him off? Thanos would probably go kill himself. Seriously, he would go on a bridge and jump. Adios, beautiful world.

“So you’re saying, for the sake of the relationship, it’s worth sometimes doing something that’s not drugs?” he confirmed.

“For fuck’s sake, that’s exactly what I’ve been saying for like twenty minutes.” The chick looked like this conversation was pissing her off almost as much as it was pissing him off. “Dude, your brain is fried. If you’re in a relationship right now, seriously, get your shit together, because it’s only a matter of time before your girl leaves you.”

“I’m not in a relationship,” he said, though he had to think about it for a second. Sometimes even he got confused about that. But he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen his last girlfriend in over a month, which probably meant he’d dumped her or she’d dumped him, but he’d been too fucked up at the time to remember. “But I’ve got someone I care about. Someone I do a lot of drugs with.”

The girl’s eyes seemed to soften just a bit.

“Maybe my advice means nothing to you, but if I were you, I’d try to change that before you lose her forever. These kinds of relationships always fall apart, I’m not the only example. A good friend of mine once dated this guy who…”

Thanos didn’t want to hear any more. Didn’t even want to correct her that Namgyu wasn’t a girl, and that there was nothing romantic between them. He felt weird, like he was about to have a bad trip, which hardly ever happened to him. Out of the two of them, Namgyu was the one who was crashing out more often on drugs. One minute laughing and having a great time, the next curled up shaking in some corner, and Thanos would have to stroke his hair and tell him everything was cool, that it was just a bad phase and it would pass. He always felt like some fucking nanny in those moments, and he’d think to himself that there’s no one else in the world he’d do that for. No one but Namgyu.

“ Señorita, thank you so much for your honest advice,” he cut the girl off mid-sentence, then stood up from the table. He’d spaced out again anyway and stopped listening to her. Not that she even looked surprised to see him go.

He’d only made it a few steps before turning back, remembering something important.

“I forgot to give you my autograph.” He started patting down his pockets, though he knew damn well he didn’t have any paper or a pen on him.

“I’ll live,” the redhead replied without even looking his way, her fingers flying over her phone, maybe texting that ex of hers.

Thanos waved her off and headed toward the exit. On the way, the lanky teenage bartender stopped him and forced him to pay. Thanos was too thrown off his game to even try wriggling out of it. Seriously, he hadn’t been in such a shit mood in ages. That fucking bitch had planted thoughts in his head that he absolutely didn’t need there.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a disposable vape. Took a couple of mango–passion fruit puffs before remembering that wasn’t what he’d meant to grab. He shoved his hand into his other pocket and fished out his beat-up phone, pulling up the contact saved as Namsu. The assigned photo was a close-up of Namgyu’s face – blown out pupils, smile lines creasing around his eyes, his freckles visible. Thanos sometimes caught himself staring at that picture. Namgyu looked so damn cute in it that he wanted to reach through the screen and strangle him.

Leaning against the wall by the entrance to the Pentagon club, he typed out a message:

Namsu, my boy, no doing drugs tomorrow.

He couldn’t be bothered to add anything else, so he hit send and pocketed the phone. Instantly he felt lighter. The sense of an incoming bad trip faded away, and Thanos was back on his usual glorious high. Tomorrow he’d show up at Namgyu’s place sober as a priest and stay clean the whole time, not even touching a joint. That would prove to his friend just how far Thanos was willing to go to make sure their relationship didn’t fall apart over some bullshit. If it were about some girl, Thanos wouldn’t give a fuck. But this was Namgyu, his best bro. Bros before hoes , everybody knew that. For Namgyu, he could quit completely, seriously.

He felt dope, so dope he decided to walk home on foot, even though it was over an hour. Nearly the whole way, he rapped under his breath, trying to piece together a new track. He couldn’t wait to see what Namgyu would say tomorrow to his idea of hanging out sober.

Thanos wanted to fucking end it. For real. His head was pounding like a pissed-off girlfriend on her period. He felt both wired and drained at the same time. Every now and then he’d catch himself digging his painted nails into his palms. The grape-cherry disposable was dying, even though he’d bought it barely two hours ago. But it was the only crap he had left. A grape cloud that tasted more like sickly-sweet perfume than any actual fruit clung to his throat like cotton candy. It barely helped.

Thanos didn’t think of himself as a masochist. He had his off-the-rails moments, sure, but usually he didn’t do things that were meant to hurt him on purpose. That’s why he had no fucking clue what the hell got into him to quit everything. Completely everything. Even weed.

Every time his hand, on autopilot, reached for a blunt or some powder, Namgyu’s face flashed in front of his eyes, and it felt like he’d just fucked his best bro’s fiancée the night before the wedding. He had no idea where that came from, because last time he checked, Namgyu didn’t look the least bit traumatized when Thanos snorted a line off his spine. On the contrary – he’d giggled like some teenage chick, asking if he could have some too. And then, brushing his hair out of his face, he’d look up at him from under his lashes and, in that same whiny, soft voice – the one he always used when he wanted something from Thanos – ask if they could do it again.

And again.

And again.

But apparently last night, shit went seriously sideways. Pigs started flying. The sun rose in the west. Semi fell in love with cocks. Thanos had to face Namgyu sober.

Sober.

Absurd. Thanos didn’t even visit his mother without at least a mild buzz. If Namgyu were here in person, he’d probably shove a blunt into his mouth and light it for him. That’s just how his Namsu was – sweet and eager. But only for him.

Thanos yanked at his hair when another wave of craving hit. Fucking hell. The drugs were literally within arm’s reach. One pill. One line. And it’d be over. It was just Namgyu… He wouldn’t be that pissed if Thanos showed up half an E in. Or at least after a blunt. That’d even be a compromise, right? Meet halfway – show up half-sober. How did that saying go again…? Is the glass half sober or half high? Something like that.

But when Thanos reached for the ziplock bag he’d tossed onto the windowsill right after getting home last night, that same heavy, suffocating tension hit him again. Like something was about to seriously go to shit.

Thanos wasn’t a stranger to fucking up. He lost the finals of The Rap Battlegrounds because he blanked on his lyrics. Failed a grade back in middle school. Spent years watching his old man beat the crap out of his mom and never did a thing. Ripped off his own boys because he couldn’t afford drugs. Lost a fuckton of cash investing in some braindead crypto. And so on. And so on. The list was long.

But despite all of it – despite all that mess, filth, and shame – he’d never screwed up when it came to Namgyu. Sometimes he forgot to buy the shit Namgyu asked for. Sometimes he yelled at him when he couldn’t find his vape. But that was it. And Thanos genuinely wanted to keep it that way. For maybe the first time in his life, he wasn’t planning to trade someone else’s well-being for his own comfort. If, for whatever reason, being sober was a good thing for Namgyu – then fuck it, he’d pull through. He’d grit his teeth, drink tap water, chain-vape a trillion disposables, swallow the desert in his throat, and somehow roll his way through these fucking hours. He’d go see him like some model citizen and finally, fucking finally, figure out what Namgyu’s deal was with this whole sobriety thing. He would’ve found out sooner, but his phone screen stayed black no matter what buttons he pressed. Thanos hoped it was just a dead battery, because there was no way he could afford a new phone right now. He’d lost his charger somewhere too, probably left it at Namgyu’s. At the end of the day, it all came down to this –  every one of his problems would solve itself if he just went over there.

So he went. Skipped the shower, and after a late breakfast of three-days-expired yogurt and painkillers for his pounding head, he headed toward Namgyu’s place. On the way, he stopped by the little shop next to Namgyu’s block – the one that was always hot as Satan’s asshole. The girl at the counter had to be new, because she actually smiled at him when he bought smokes for Namgyu and disposables for himself. She wouldn’t be smiling if she knew the shit he and Namgyu had pulled here before. And she was even cute – big tits, sweet face, hair tied in a ponytail, a nose ring. But Thanos felt too much like a warm beer to even try anything. Not that it mattered, he probably fucked it up anyway the moment he took a drag off his vape before he even handed her the cash. She looked at him like he’d just spat in her face. Whatever. She should feel honored she even got to see Thanos sober.

With smokes in his pocket and a plastic disposable clamped between his teeth, Thanos walked up to the right entrance and didn’t even bother punching in the code. He kicked the door – something in the hinges grated, and it swung open right away. Of course, Thanos knew Namgyu’s code, but he hadn’t needed it in a long time. The door was so busted you just had to lean on it a little harder and you were in, like it was your own place. Perks of a block where everyone was behind on rent and half the mailboxes were sealed shut with tape. Not like anyone here had anything worth stealing anyway.

Namgyu often crashed at Thanos’s place anyway because he always had some beef with his neighbors. Sure, he bitched about Thanos’s bed squeaking with every move, but the guy only had a bare mattress thrown on the floor at his own place. His “luxury” possessions consisted of some stash, a handful of Thanos merch, and a pair of black sneakers – the gift Thanos gave him when one of his tracks hit the Korean Top 100. Thanos was honestly surprised Namgyu hadn’t pawned them yet, especially on the days when they had to split a packet of instant noodles between them.

The stairwell reeked of cigarettes and mildew, same as always. From the ground floor he could already hear shouting – same couple from apartment eight as every damn time. Thanos felt the headache slam back twice as hard. Fucking hell. He’d give anything for one hit off a bowl. Maybe if Namgyu saw the state he was in, he’d take pity and light something up for him. Shame Thanos couldn’t remember why the hell he was supposed to be sober in the first place. Yesterday he’d mixed molly with booze, a combo that always ended in a blackout for him. All he knew was, it was about Namgyu. Maybe his bro had texted? Shit, maybe he’d overdosed again and Thanos hadn’t even noticed. But no way he’d been so far gone he wouldn’t have gone straight over… right? Fuck.

His head throbbed harder, so he picked up the pace, jogging up the stairs until he stood in front of the familiar door.

He pressed down on the handle, slick with his own sweat, and stepped inside. A dense wave of weed hit him in the face. At first, relief, just for a second. Then only pure rage. Here he was, like some bozo, not lighting a blunt because Namgyu, and the guy was sitting there in a hash cloud like nothing happened? Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He breathed in deep, hoping the air alone might give him a little buzz, and stomped toward the room where low-quality music was blaring.

Namgyu, like some fucking little prince, was sprawled across that ugly orange couch that always reeked of weed and stale sweat. On the floor in front of him sat a makeshift bucket bong, and on the wooden crate they used as a table lay a ziplock bag of white powder and some random phone spilling shitty music.

What the actual fuck…?

“Namsu!”

Namgyu jumped and straightened up instantly, like he’d just been called to report in the army. Though Thanos knew damn well Namgyu had never been in the military – he’d been exempted for being a junkie. He blinked a few times toward Thanos. His pupils were blown to hell, the whites of his eyes pink like raw meat. Thanos usually thought Namgyu’s drugged eyes were super cute. But now? Now he wanted to kill him.

“What the fuck, my boy?”

Before Namgyu could say a word, they both heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet flushing. The bathroom door creaked. And then he stepped out. The guy who still haunted Thanos in his nightmares. MG. Fucking Coin. At some party, under LED lights and a few lines of coke, he’d convinced Thanos to throw his money into some shady-as-fuck crypto. The project, of course, went to shit. And now this bastard, looking like nothing ever happened, had just taken a dump in his best friend’s bathroom.

Thanos did exactly what his common sense told him to do – he lunged at that fucking prick with his fists. I mean, what else was he supposed to do? First the guy steals his cash, and now he wants to steal Namgyu too? Invading their sacred space in this cramped, cluttered apartment where they spend almost every damn day getting high, sleeping, shitting, and everything else, just the two of them? The fucker had an ass-kicking coming. 

Myunggi had zero time to react, so Thanos dropped him to the floor without a problem. They rolled across the floor littered with Chinese takeout boxes and clothes. Namgyu’s place was tiny, you could walk the whole hallway in four steps. With no room to move, Thanos’s legs kept slamming into the wall, probably leaving dark sole marks, but that shithead MG Coin still ended up pinned in the corner between the bathroom and Namgyu’s room. Thanos pulled his fist back, ready to smash it into that pretty boy face, smooth like some fucking K-pop idol’s, with that permanent look of irritation glued to it like dogshit to a shoe. But then he felt someone’s arms wrap around his chest, yanking him back.

“Thanos, for fuck’s sake, what the hell’s gotten into you?!” Namgyu’s voice was in his ear, his hair brushing against Thanos’s cheek.

Thanos’s rage spun one hundred and eighty degrees.

“What the hell’s gotten into me?!” He let go of MG Coin’s collar and spun toward Namgyu. This time he grabbed him by the collar, lifted him, and shoved him against the wall. He was stronger than Namgyu, they’d figured that out a long time ago, the first time they’d arm-wrestled. Beat him three times in a row, no problem. Namgyu could thrash all he wanted, but Thanos pressed his whole weight into him and started yelling right in his face, spit landing on his freckled skin.

“Do you have any fucking idea the hell I’ve been going through all morning, sober as a goddamn baby?! I haven’t even hit a bong since yesterday, and this is how you fucking thank me? Getting cozy with my, our, mortal enemy?! I’d expect some random slut to hook up with any rando, but my best bro stabbing me in the back like this? You’re breaking my heart, man.”

“Thanos, Jesus fuck, if you’re out of drugs, just take some of mine and let me the fuck go,” Namgyu wheezed, still pinned. “First you cancel our meeting, then you show up like your ass is on fire just ‘cause you’ve got nothing to snort. Fucking junkie.”

“You’re the fucking junkie, and a traitor on top of that.” Thanos loosened his grip a little. He didn’t actually want to strangle Namgyu, even if he was a fucking traitor, a fucking slut who cozied up to any random asshole like a cat in heat the second Thanos left him alone for three seconds. “What the fuck are you even talking about, that I ‘canceled’ on you? We were supposed to play Mario Kart.”

“You texted me last night saying today’s meeting was off, and when I started calling to ask what the fuck you meant, it went straight to voicemail. And now you show up here like you own this fucking place and start screaming at me like it’s my fault you snorted everything last night and don’t even remember not wanting to see me.”

And that’s when it all clicked, fuckin’ crystal clear. Thanos didn’t remember sending any text, but if Namgyu said he had, why the hell would he lie? But there was no way he’d actually cancel on him – Namgyu must’ve just made some shit up, like he always did. Got it in that empty eggshell of a head that Thanos didn’t wanna see him, so he ran straight to the first random person, begging for attention like some bum shaking down strangers for beer money. And of course that person had to be fucking Myunggi, guy ranked second on Thanos’s most-hated list, right after his old man.

Fucking Namgyu couldn’t be left alone with his own thoughts for three goddamn seconds without losing his shit. He was like that clingy-ass cat that jumps on everybody’s lap and rubs against their legs when its owner is busy and can’t give it attention. And now he had the audacity to look at Thanos with those big, bloodshot weed eyes, all startled like a deer in headlights, like a virgin on her wedding night, waiting for him to say it wasn’t true, that of course he’d come here because he wanted to see him, that they could blaze up and play Mario Kart now, that it was all good. He looked cute as fuck, Thanos had to admit, but he wasn’t in the mood to comfort him right now. He was still pissed. MG Coin? Seriously? And to make it worse, they’d gotten fucked up together, and Namgyu never smoked or did lines with anyone but Thanos. Might as well have blown the guy while he was at it. If he’d been lonely, he could’ve called Minsu – sure, Minsu hated his guts, but maybe he would’ve said yes. Thanos wouldn’t have been mad about that, Minsu was his second-best bro, after all.

Speaking of MG Coin – Thanos had almost forgotten about him. He turned toward where the guy was still sprawled half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, looking like the whole thing was a comedy show.

“What the fuck you lookin’ at, you fucking dick?” Thanos snarled. “Why don’t you go fuck that chick you got pregnant, unless she’s gotten so fat you’re not into her anymore?”

The amusement vanished from MG Coin’s face in an instant. Thanos figured he’d stand up and try to swing on him now, so he was already rolling up his sleeves, ready for it, but then he heard Namgyu’s voice right in his ear.

“Thanos…”

That voice had that shaky, whiny note, but it wasn’t that Namgyu was about to cry, Thanos knew that, he was just trying to play the pity card. He felt Namgyu’s hands gripping his arm, and he couldn’t stop himself from turning back toward him.

 “Thanos, let’s just go hit the geeb, yeah? Let’s get you stoned and you’ll feel better right away. Or we can do some coke, I’ve still got a little stashed somewhere. I’ve got pills, I’ve got acid, whatever you want.”

For a second, Thanos wanted to just grab Namgyu and kiss the shit out of him for that offer. Yes, fuck yes, let’s rail some coke, he needed something strong, something that would hit hard enough to blast all this anger out of him. But at the last second, he remembered – he wasn’t supposed to be getting high. But he still couldn’t remember why.

“Man, I fucking wish.”

He let out a long, dragging sigh, then it hit him. His whole sober-torture thing actually had something to do with Namgyu. That was half the reason he’d even come here, to figure out what the fuck that was about.

“I can’t get high ‘cause of you!” he yelled right in Namgyu’s face, feeling another wave of craving rip through his body and spill out as pure rage.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Namgyu’s eyes went wide.

Meanwhile, Myunggi had gotten up off the floor, scooped up his crap from Namgyu’s room, and was inching toward the front door. Finally, he slipped out, murmuring “fucking junkies” under his breath. Thanos didn’t react, too busy trying to make sense of this whole fucked-up mess in his head. It was weird as hell, waking up this morning with that insane conviction he had to quit for Namgyu’s sake… while Namgyu had been offering him drugs multiple times since he’d walked in. Something about this did not add up.

 “Well…” Thanos scratched the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. “I dunno, man. I just woke up with this strong feeling, like I had to quit for you. But dude, I swear on my life I have no fucking clue what I did last night to make me think that. I mean, I was at the Pentagon, and I think I talked to some chick. But what about, fuck if I know.”

Namgyu first snorted, and then straight up burst out laughing. The little shit was practically rolling on the floor, cackling like he’d huffed nitrous, while Thanos was here having an actual existential crisis.

“Bro, you’ve lost your fucking mind,” Namgyu gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. Thanos wanted to kick him. “Why the fuck would you stop doing drugs because of me?”

“ Fuck you, man,” Thanos muttered, flipping him off.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this pissed at Namgyu. No, fuck that, he’d never been this pissed. He pulled a disposable vape from the pocket of his shorts and took a long, deep drag, like he could smother the boiling mess in his skull with a cloud of smoke. Namgyu’s smile faded. He sat there quiet, cheek resting on his knee, those big-ass pupils locked on Thanos.

“You seriously clean?” he asked at last. There was something uncertain in his voice.

“No, fucker, I’m just pretending.”

Namgyu sighed.

“Come on, man, don’t take it out on me,” he said in that whiny voice of his, getting up off the floor only to flop onto the couch for a change. “Sorry about Myunggi. I thought you ditched me for some bitch.”

Yeah, right. He fucking wished. Maybe in some better, alternate reality, Thanos was blitzed out of his mind right now and balls-deep in some random pussy back at his place. But not here. Here, he was stone sober, head pounding, stuck dealing with Namgyu, the backstabbing little cunt who’d hop on anyone’s dick the second they gave him a shred of attention. Couldn’t take your eyes off him for a second before he’d slither off somewhere. And what if next time he went and made friends with his father? What if one day Thanos walked into Namgyu’s apartment and found the two of them – Namgyu and his old man – drinking beers on this same fucking couch, laughing like best buds. “You know, Mr. Thanos Senior, I think your son’s braindead. Can’t even have a normal conversation with him.” “Eh, yeah, that’s from his mother, she’s an idiot too.” And there they’d be, all chummy and pleased with themselves.

“Thanos,” Namgyu’s voice yanked him out of the spiraling scene in his head. “What’s up with you?”

Thanos looked at him without a word. He’d seen that face hundreds of times, somehow both round and sharp. Usually slack, worn down, blurred by anger, exhaustion, or drugs. And yet, somehow, always fucking beautiful. And that pleading flicker in his eyes – Thanos knew it way too well. He should’ve built up immunity to it by now. Should’ve. But no, of course not. Every damn time he stared too long, something tightened in his chest.

He looked away.

“Going home,” he said flatly. “My head’s fucking killing me.”

But before he could even take three steps toward the door, Namgyu shot up off the couch like his ass had caught fire and wrapped those skinny arms around Thanos’s back. The rapper tried to shove him off, but Namgyu clung on like a fucking burr.

“Fuck off, get off me. Don’t…”

“Thanos, man, don’t go,” Namgyu whined into his shoulder, his face buried somewhere between his neck and collarbone. “We haven’t seen each other in two days. Come on, hit a geeb with me, it always helps you. I’ll give you whatever you want, just don’t go.”

Thanos knew Namgyu would give him anything he asked for, no matter the circumstances. So that whole “I’ll give you whatever you want” didn’t sound special at all. Still, Thanos really did need a fix. His phone was dead, so he couldn’t even check exactly how long he’d been clean, but he knew it was way too fucking long. And by his own choice, too. Thanos had always known he wasn’t exactly blessed in the brains department, but this? This had to be the peak of his idiocy.

He didn’t put up much of a fight when Namgyu dragged him back to the couch. He collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, right next to him. And when Namgyu started preparing the bucket bong, Thanos tried not to think about the fact that just a little while ago, in this exact spot, that fucker MG Coin had been sitting. He wondered if Namgyu had been just as sweet and nice to him. Did he make him a geeb too? Did he giggle like some teenage girl when Myunggi rambled on about his channel? Did he cling to him like some needy little wife?

Jesus fuck, it pissed him off.

“All done,” Namgyu said in his brittle English, and Thanos’s lip twitched upward despite himself. Brown-nosing little shit.

Thanos leaned over the plastic bottle, unscrewed the cap with the bowl stuck in it, and pressed his lips to the mouthpiece. The smoke bubbled through the water – thick, yellow, sticky. He pulled until his lungs started to revolt and white spots bloomed in his vision. He tore himself away, hacking up a dry, choking cough. He felt Namgyu’s hand lightly patting his back, stroking like it would help. Thanos shoved his hand away and spat to the side once the coughing fit finally died.

His lungs still burned, but the relief came fast. It was like all the tension that had had him in a chokehold for the past few hours got yanked out of him along with the cough. He slumped hard against the back of the wrecked couch and took a deep breath. The headache was gone. His shoulders loosened. His brow smoothed. His jaw unclenched. He was finally starting to feel like himself again.

He turned his head, looking at Namgyu through half-lidded eyes. The junkie was sitting on the other end of the couch, pressed into the orange fabric like a squashed mosquito. His greasy hair stuck to his cheeks. He was biting his lip, spinning his rings nervously around his fingers, back and forth. His knee bounced.

Fuckkk.

In that little birdbrain of his, the thought had probably just sprouted that Thanos fucking hated him. And now, high and with his head cooled off, Thanos had to admit he’d been acting like a girl on her period. Twice he’d made it clear he didn’t want Namgyu touching him. Christ. What the fuck was wrong with him? Luckily, he knew Namgyu’s fucked-up emotional wiring better than his own pockets.

“Namsu,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Namgyu lifted his head and tucked his hair behind his ears. He didn’t even bother correcting him.

Jesus fuck.

“Come on, my boy,” Thanos coaxed, making a beckoning gesture. “Show me that message I sent you. My phone’s dead.”

Namgyu fished his phone from the pocket of his dark hoodie and shuffled closer, still leaving just enough space between them to avoid accidental contact. Thanos rolled his eyes, slung an arm around him, and hauled him in without ceremony. Namgyu handed him the phone with the chat already open. Thanos took it, but before he could focus on the screen, Namgyu edged even closer and rested his head on Thanos’s chest.

For a moment, Thanos just looked at him, feeling the tension slowly leak from the body pressed against his. He let out a quiet sigh and ran his hand down Namgyu’s spine, letting it rest at his waist. Only then did he glance at the message he’d sent the night before.

Namsu, my boy, no doing drugs tomorrow.

Huh.

Okay, yeah – it did kinda sound like he was canceling plans. Because what the hell else were they gonna do if not get high? Everything was funnier, prettier, better that way. Especially with Namgyu. 

Thanos swiped his thumb across the scratched-up screen and saw a string of texts from Namgyu, sent at random intervals.

gyu

????

y??

the fuck, Thanos

resched the fuckin bang for later, we were gonna play Mario Kart tomorrow

yo

charge your phone, you dumbass junkie

Thanos

kys

Thanos scratched his head. He must’ve been really out of it last night, but one thing he knew for sure – no matter how blasted he got, he’d never bail on getting high with Namgyu for some random hoe. And Namgyu should’ve known that too. But his fried brain kept running the same script on loop  – that Thanos would rather spend time with literally anyone else. That Thanos was just waiting for the right moment to cut him off and ditch him like a stray cat on the side of a highway.  Never mind that they were practically glued together 24/7. Never mind how many times Thanos hooked him up with some drugs for free, just because. Never mind that he’d once dumped a girl because she had an issue with their friendship and wanted him to stop hanging around Namgyu. Never mind that every single time Namgyu lost his shit, Thanos was the one picking him up off the floor and babysitting him until he could breathe again.

“I think I left my charger at your place,” Thanos said finally, like that explained anything, and handed the phone back.

Namgyu nodded. Silence fell – thick, but not quite awkward. Thanos could feel him thinking something stupid again. He had a sixth sense for that kind of crap, tuned like a radar.

“You still mad at me?” Namgyu finally asked, voice muffled against the pink fabric of Thanos’s shirt.

Thanos snorted under his breath, but before Namgyu could get offended, his hand moved almost automatically, brushing through Namgyu’s hair. 

“I’m not,” he said. Sure, the fact MG Coin had been here still itched under his skin, but all that irritation was aimed squarely at that prick, not Namgyu. “But give me something else before I lose my shit again.”

Namgyu laughed.

“Still can’t believe you detoxed for me,” he said, pushing himself up from the couch. He reached for the ziplock bag of white powder sitting on his makeshift table. “Got speed if you want it.”

“That’s my boy!”

Without ceremony, Namgyu poured two lines out on the tabletop and evened them with his ID, pulled from his back pocket. Once it was ready, Thanos pushed the bucket bong aside to make space, dropped to his knees, and snorted the first line. The bitter powder bit into his sinuses, and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for that first nasty burn to pass. He felt his body tense from the inside, pulse kicking up, awareness sharpening along the edges. And before the speed could even fully kick in, he went in for the second line.

Then it all hit him like a sledgehammer.

The girl sitting opposite Thanos had the tips of her hair dyed red and her lips painted the exact same color…and she kept flapping those lips. Something about her boyfriend? Something about getting high and her boyfriend. Her words oozed out of her, bubbly and distorted. Sometimes they overlapped, sometimes they drifted to the back of Thanos’s skull, like someone was running the tape in reverse. 

Blah blah blah. My boyfriend used to do too many drugs. Blah blah blah. A relationship can’t be like that. Blah blah blah. You can’t live like that. Blah blah blah. If you keep using, the person you love most will leave you.

If you keep using, the person you love most will leave you.

Namgyu will leave you.

Huh.

Something starts boiling under his skull. The girl doesn’t notice. Her face blurs. Her lips are still moving, but the sound lags behind. She’s still talking about her boyfriend. Thanos is thinking about his.

Namgyu will leave you.

“So you’re saying, for the sake of the relationship, it’s worth sometimes doing something that’s not drugs?”

“Namgyu will leave you,” the girl repeats, and Thanos feels in his chest just how true those words are.

Panic sets in. He doesn’t want Namgyu to leave him. He doesn’t want Namgyu to leave him. He doesn’t want Namgyu to leave him.

Where is Namgyu? Why isn’t he here? Did he leave him?

Thanos has to stop using.

The girl is still talking, though her lips don’t move.

“You love Namgyu.”

What the fuckkk…?

“Bro,” Namgyu groaned, looking at him with fake annoyance. “That second line was for me, you fucking junkie.”

Thanos blinked at him a few times, still not fully processing what had just happened. But something had shifted. Maybe it was the speed, or maybe just a sudden rush of pure, sharp thought – because everything that had been hazy and smeared only moments ago suddenly snapped into place. Like someone had switched reality from 480p to 4K Ultra HD. Every detail razor-sharp, every sound crystal clear, his thoughts lining up like soldiers.

He looked at Namgyu, who was still staring right at him. His blown pupils reflected Thanos’s own eyes like a mirror. And that’s when it hit him – that stupid, blindingly obvious realization – that he had never in his life met anyone sweeter than Namgyu. His heart jolted in his chest, skipped into a new rhythm, like it had just figured out the exact tempo it was supposed to keep.

“You’re cute, my boy,” he said quietly, studying the faint constellation of freckles scattered across Namgyu’s pale skin. “Very cute.”

Namgyu turned his head away and covered his face with his hand, clearly embarrassed.

“Don’t fuckin’ mess with me.”

“I’m not fucking messing with you,” Thanos said, irritation prickling at the thought that Namgyu actually believed that. Did the guy even know what his own face looked like? Sure, his bathroom mirror was always covered in some kind of shit, spattered with toothpaste, streaked with water, layered with dust, but Christ, it was still enough for Namgyu to notice how damn good-looking he was. How could he think Thanos was joking right now? “I promise.”

To make his words sound more legit, he put a hand on his heart. His other hand was still holding Namgyu’s, but Namgyu yanked it away under the pretense of lining up another two bumps of speed, this time for himself. His cheeks were flushed scarlet. How cute.

Thanos watched with fascination as his friend snorted the amp, tilted his head back when it was done, then wiped the remaining powder from under his nose with the back of his hand. He’d seen him do this a hundred times before, but this time felt… fuck knows, different. This time he wasn’t just looking, he was staring. He’d always thought there was something feminine about Namgyu, and it wasn’t just the long hair Thanos could easily grab in a fist at the back of his head, like he liked to do with sluts he fucked. It wasn’t even the mood swings that got him acting like a stereotypical chick. Honestly, Thanos couldn’t really pin down what the hell it was. It was obvious Namgyu was a guy. Maybe it wasn’t even about Namgyu himself, maybe it was about how Thanos felt when he was around him. Okay, sure, maybe there’d been a couple times when he’d gotten hard from Namgyu curling up against him, but that was just a normal, healthy reaction to physical closeness with another person, especially if it had been a while since the last hookup or he was on drugs that made him horny. Thanos never overthought that shit. I mean, come on, it was normal to get a boner while hugging your best friend. If somebody claims otherwise, they’re fucking lying. That’s just how male friendships work.

But now, for the first time, he started thinking about it a little deeper. What if he actually wanted to fuck Namgyu? He tried to picture it – bare stretches of his friend’s skin, his hair tangled in his fist, his trembling voice calling out his name. Thanos felt his body respond to the vision, and he had this weird, creeping certainty that this time it wasn’t about a dry spell or the speed making him horny. Fuck. This wasn’t looking good. Even admitting he was fantasizing about fucking someone with a dick was fucked up enough, because seriously, it had never happened before. If it were just some random guy, Thanos would’ve shrugged it off, but this was Namgyu, for fuck’s sake. 

And then there was that thing the chick at the Pentagon said. Who the fuck was she, anyway? Whatever, didn’t matter. You love Namgyu. Fucking hell. Of course he did. Namgyu knew him better than anyone ever had. He was the only person Thanos wanted around all the time. The only one he could spend every day with without getting bored – in fact, he just kept wanting more. It was something he’d always taken for granted. But if you put all that together, it kinda started looking like maybe he really…

“Thanos.” Namgyu’s voice pulled the rapper back to the surface of the chaotic mess in his head. “Stop thinking so much, or your brain’s gonna leak out your ears. C’mon, let’s play.”

Namgyu shoved a console controller into Thanos’s hands. Behind him, on a duct-taped, tiny TV, Mario Kart was already loaded up. When their hands brushed, Thanos felt like he’d just stuck his fingers in a socket and taken a full jolt. He could’ve thrown Namgyu onto that disgusting couch and fucked him right there, no joke. But instead, he got up from where he’d been sitting on the floor and said:

“I’m about to destroy you.”

He meant the game, obviously. Though he wished it meant something else. They settled on the couch, side by side but far enough apart that their elbows didn’t touch. Thanos was pissed at every single inch of space between them. I need a plan, he thought as he picked his character. Eventually he went for the little dude with the white cap with red spots, the one who kinda looked like a mushroom. Namgyu picked Mario, basic as fuck. Anyway, back to the point – something had to be done about this new realization.

Thanos wasn’t much for thinking, he preferred acting. He’d already thought about it enough. Now it was time to figure out how to get Namgyu to let him fuck him. With girls, it was easy. They either threw themselves at him because of his fame and killer looks, or he just joked around a bit and that was that. But how the hell do you seduce someone you’re already that close to, someone you’ve already poured so much time and attention into?

After the first round, it hit Thanos that maybe he should let Namgyu win. It was his console, after all, but that loser was just so damn bad at the game. He almost always lost, then sulked about it, despite the fact that he was the one who always suggested playing that damn Mario Kart in the first place. Thanos had seen something similar in some shitty rom-com one of his exes had dragged him to see at the cinema. The guy in the movie was teaching the girl he wanted to bang how to play video games and purposely let her win so she’d think she was amazing, and, supposedly, that would make her more likely to jump into bed with him. The film was so boring that Thanos popped a pill in the first fifteen minutes, and later added another one. But for some reason, that scene stuck in his mind.

So he started crashing into barriers on purpose, taking wide turns, and hitting those damned banana peels. He gritted his teeth as it took a lot of effort to hold back. He hated losing, and he hated the smirk on Namgyu’s face when he overtook him for the third round in a row. The things a man will do to get into someone’s pants.

“Dude, that half-day of sobriety really hit you hard, you haven’t played this badly in ages.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Thanos replied out of habit. But a moment later, he thought maybe he should stop insulting Namgyu. If he told a girl to shut the fuck up, she’d totally get pissed and not let him hit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Namgyu to see if he looked offended. Namgyu didn’t look offended at all, he sat there with a triumphant expression plastered on his face, chuckling to himself. Still, Thanos doubted that alone would be enough to make him strip his clothes off for the rapper. He needed to figure out what the next step was. So when, a round later, Namgyu got up from the couch and announced he was going to take a shit, Thanos unplugged his phone from the charger and typed into the search bar: How to seduce someone? Utterly humiliating. He’d have to delete that crap from his search history immediately – what if it somehow leaked onto his social media? The rumor would spread instantly that Thanos has no rizz, which was absolute bullshit. Puffing on his vape, he clicked the first link at the top and was redirected to some loser forum where guys gave each other tips on how to get laid for the first time. Most of the posts were total garbage. Just be yourself! Act natural around her, remember, honesty is key! Oh, give him a break, Thanos couldn’t possibly be more chilled out around Namgyu, it was physically impossible. Some tips, though, were more concrete. There was something about taking care of your appearance and hygiene. Discreetly, he raised his arm and sniffed his armpit, which confirmed his suspicion that he hadn’t showered after coming home last night. His outfit was completely random – a worn-out T-shirt with a company logo on the chest, black shorts, and mismatched socks. Thanos could dress well when he wanted to, but it had never once occurred to him to get dolled up just to chill at Namgyu’s place. Still, he made a mental note that next time he should get dressed up as if it was some special occasion.

Lower down, there was something about giving gifts, paying for meals, and dropping compliments. He didn’t get to read the rest, because right then Namgyu came back from the toilet, and Thanos, panicking, shoved his phone deep into his pocket. He felt like a horny teenager whose mom just caught him watching porn.

“Hey, man, let’s order some food,” Namgyu said, lying sideways on the couch so that the top of his head touched Thanos’s thigh. Thanos automatically ran his fingers through his hair.

Wait, what was it the forum said about paying for meals?

“I’m paying!” Thanos blurted, maybe a bit too eagerly, but Namgyu probably chalked it up to the drugs.

“Perfect, ‘cause I’ve got fuck-all in my account. But I’m fucking hungry.”

Thanos didn’t have much in his account either. That fucking crypto had wiped him out and he’d been clawing his way out of a financial pit for months. He saved money wherever he could, except for drugs, of course. But he figured he could scrape together enough for some Chinese takeout for the two of them. They called a place two streets over, and fifteen minutes later they each had a steaming styrofoam box balanced on their laps. Mario Kart had shut itself off in the meantime, and they pulled up YouTube on Namgyu’s phone while they ate. Outside, the sun was going down, and Thanos decided he wasn’t going home tonight. He often crashed at Namgyu’s, usually on that reeking couch. Sometimes, though, they’d wake up on the same mattress Namgyu used as a bed, usually when they’d both been so fucked up they didn’t even remember how they’d ended up like that. Tonight probably wouldn’t be one of those nights, but Thanos had already decided that, one way or another, he’d end up with Namgyu curled into the crook of his neck. Even if he didn’t manage to fuck him tonight – fine. He was starting to enjoy the chase. It felt like a game where you rack up points to level up. He’d take his time, step by step. After all, this was Namgyu. He had to be careful not to fuck it up.

Then, that chick from last night popped back into his mind. The one who’d said Namgyu would ditch him over drugs. Bullshit. He’d already confirmed that Namgyu loved getting high with him. But what if he left for some other reason? Like if Thanos fucked up their whole friendship by trying to make a move?

“Hey, Namsu,” he started, not even sure what he wanted to say.

“Namgyu,” his friend corrected automatically.

“You’d never leave me, right?”

Namgyu looked up from the last clumps of teriyaki chicken and rice he’d been poking at for two minutes instead of eating, giving him a suspicious stare.

“Is there something you wanna tell me?”

Thanos rolled his eyes. Of course the bastard immediately assumed something was wrong. And, to be fair, who could blame him? Thanos never asked shit like this, that was Namgyu’s department. Thanos, you’re not mad at me, right? Thanos, we’re still hanging tomorrow, yeah? Thanos, you’d never stop being friends with me, you promise? On and on, like a broken record. And now he was tense as hell, convinced Thanos was asking because something bad had happened.

“Ah, fuck it, never mind,” Thanos waved it off. Instantly regretted even opening his mouth.

“No, tell me,” Namgyu said, setting his food aside and crawling across the couch toward him.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s nothing. I was just asking.”

Maybe his tone was a bit too harsh, or maybe Namgyu didn’t believe him, because he was giving Thanos the wide-eyed, wounded-puppy look. Figures – Thanos asks for reassurance, and suddenly he’s the one having to reassure him. It was always like that with Namgyu. Thanos opened his arms, and Namgyu immediately perked up and buried his face against his chest, right over his heartbeat.

”I’d never fucking leave you, you know this,” Namgyu’s voice was quiet and muffled by Thanos’s shirt. 

Thanos felt heat rise through him, both from the closeness and from the words he’d just heard. He knew that while Namgyu constantly begged for attention, actually admitting he cared about someone wasn’t easy for him. Blame that fucked-up mother of his – he’d never learned how to handle feelings properly, his or anyone else’s, even though he desperately needed them.

Thanos stroked his hair, barely stopping himself from tugging the black strands and pulling Namgyu’s face up to his. The arm around his back itched to pull him even closer, to drag him into his lap. He tugged his T-shirt down over his crotch just in case Namgyu glanced down. Maybe he could just ask? Thanos knew Namgyu would do anything for him. For a promise that they’d always be friends, he’d probably let Thanos fuck him, even if he wasn’t into dicks. But Thanos didn’t want it to happen like that. No, he wanted Namgyu crawling at his feet, begging him for it. So instead, he decided to ask something else.

“Another geeb?”

Namgyu snorted, loosening his grip and leaning away from Thanos.

 “What kind of dumbass question is that?”

Right then, Thanos felt the warm, uneven breath vanish from his collarbone, and instantly regretted even opening his damn mouth.

Namgyu slid down to the floor next to the abandoned bucket bong. And sure, Thanos would’ve much preferred him kneeling there for a completely different reason than packing another hit, but you can’t have it all.

With an elbow propped on his knee, he watched Namgyu work the bowl. His hands were trembling a bit from the speed, but he still nailed it. Looking closer, Thanos realized Namgyu actually had fucking gorgeous hands – fingers just right, not too skinny, not too thick, everything in perfect proportion. Black and silver rings flashed on his knuckles. One of them looked familiar. Way too familiar. Exactly like the one Thanos had lost a week ago and already written off. Whatever. Let him keep it. Thanos kinda liked it.

His sweet little wifey.

When the geeb was ready, Thanos plopped down beside him, unscrewed the cap, and inhaled from the bottle. With his mouth bone-dry and his throat shredded from the drugs, the weed hit like broken glass. He coughed like a maniac. For a second he was convinced he was about to puke blood, but then realized that probably wouldn’t be the sexiest visual, so he got his shit together. Namgyu, being Namgyu, already had a hand on his back. Stroking. Slow. Steady. Fucking nice. Thanos kept coughing a little longer, just to keep it going.

When he finally got his breath back, Namgyu reached for the bowl, but Thanos beat him to it. Usually, Namgyu was the one making the bucket bongs, rolling the joints, lining the rails, shoving the pills between his teeth. But thinking about it now, making someone a geeb was actually a pretty gentlemanly move. Like opening a car door or pulling out a chair at a restaurant. The thing was, Thanos only had a car in his lyrics, and dinner money wasn’t always in the cards. But a bucket bong? A bucket bong he could do.

He slid the spent pipe out of Namgyu’s hand. Namgyu’s eyebrows twitched upward, and Thanos shot him the sexiest smirk he had in his arsenal.

“Gimme, Daddy Thanos’ll take care of it for you… baby .”

Namgyu’s brows shot even higher. His lips parted, like his system just glitched for a second. The fingers that had been resting loosely on his thigh tightened slightly. Then he snorted. First a short, doubtful laugh, then a fuller one with a little tilt of his head.

“The fuck was that?” he managed, grabbing Thanos’s knee and shaking it like Thanos wasn’t already jittering from all the goddamn speed.

Thanos frowned. Not the reaction he’d been aiming for. He was hoping for maybe a blush. Maybe a shy smile. Maybe Namgyu shoving his tongue down his throat. The laugh was sweet, yeah – ridiculously sweet – but still. Shit. Maybe baby was too basic for Namgyu. No big deal. Thanos knew a fuckton of other sweet nicknames. Eventually, he’d land on the one that’d make Namgyu crawl into his lap and beg to get fucked.

Thanos packed the bowl with laser focus, feeling the kind of stare that could heat asphalt. Namgyu was looking at him like Thanos was the last joint in the city. That gaze sent shivers straight down his spine. He reached for the lighter, ready to spark up, when a line from that song that had been on repeat in his head all week looped again:

I wanna fuck you hard on the sink; after that, give you something to drink.

Yeah, well. He hadn’t fucked Namgyu yet, and he sure as hell didn’t plan on doing it over Namgyu’s sink, since the thing smelled like a dead rat after rain. But if Namgyu was into that kind of vibe, Thanos wasn’t going to get picky. He’d pitch a tent even in a gutter. 

Anyway – if a bucket bong after speed shredded your throat like sandpaper through your sinuses, then maybe Namgyu could use something to drink. Fuck, he had instincts. Like Casanova on crank.

“Hang on a sec,” he tossed over his shoulder, bolting out of the room toward the kitchen.

As expected, the place didn’t look any better than the rest of the apartment. Thanos would even go as far as saying it was the worst room of them all. Even though Namgyu didn’t cook – seriously, sometimes he couldn’t even be bothered to heat water for instant noodles and just ate them dry like some fucked-up boy scout – it still smelled like the inside of a dead dog. The cabinets were nearly empty. No food, no decent dishes. But he managed to dig up a glass, chipped at the rim but still in one piece.  He filled it with tap water and downed it immediately, because the speed had scorched his throat raw. Refilled it. This time, actually for Namgyu.

When he came back, Namgyu was sitting there with that impatient look plastered across his face. Thanos set the water on the low table, sat down beside him, grabbed the bowl, and lit up. He lifted the bottle slowly, watching smoke fill the inside like a thick fog creeping into an abandoned tunnel. Namgyu leaned in, unscrewed the cap, and inhaled deep. Predictably, he coughed instantly. His eyelids clenched shut, and his hand automatically grabbed Thanos’ elbow, like he needed to hold onto something solid so he wouldn’t drift off.

Thanos gave his shoulder a few light pats, and when the coughing eased, he handed him the glass. Namgyu frowned, eyed it suspiciously, but said nothing. He chugged the water in one go and set the glass down with a soft clink. Then he looked at Thanos like he was staring at something completely foreign. Like the guy in front of him was some exotic parasite that had wandered in by accident, not his best friend.

“You got high again when I wasn’t looking?” he asked coolly, crossing his arms.

Thanos blinked a few times, confounded. 

“No?”

“Is that an answer or a question?” Namgyu’s eyes narrowed.

Thanos sighed and pushed the geeb aside.

“I didn’t take anything else, princess,” he said, giving Namgyu’s cheek a light tap. “Chill out.”

Apparently princess didn’t land either. Namgyu’s face twisted into the kind of look you’d give if someone just invited you to detox together at a private rehab in the mountains. Fuck. It had been meant as sweet. At least in his head. Because Namgyu really did have something princess-like about him – just the kind of princess who could summon plugs with a single glance instead of singing to birds.

“You're acting weird today,” he said, eyeing Thanos suspiciously from under half-lidded eyes. “Did you pull some shit and don’t wanna admit it?”

Thanos just snorted. Classic. You do something from the heart, and instantly it’s suspicion, like kindness is some scam to steal someone’s kidneys. Namgyu didn’t get that you could do something with no ulterior motive. That you could care, just because. And suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. He remembered it wasn’t his fault. That Namgyu just lived in a world where anything good came hand in hand with something that tore your life apart from the inside.

“You’ve got paranoia from the speed, man,” he said quietly, running his fingers through Namgyu’s hair and gently tucking it behind his ear. Because fuck it, why not. “Say ‘thank you’ like a good boy and let’s go lie down, ‘cause my comedown’s hitting hard.”

It sounded like a joke. And in his head, it was a joke. But Namgyu didn’t seem to catch the tone. He scrunched his nose in that annoyingly cute way of his and looked away.

“Thanks. Or whatever the fuck.” 

Thanos smiled.

Sleeping after speed was always a fucking nightmare. The only upside? On the comedown, Namgyu got paranoid, so for a few hours he needed someone to hold him, breathe for him, and stroke his hair. There was nothing pretty about it. It was filth, exhaustion, and lunacy, but Thanos still found his place in it. He felt like some fucked-up knight on a mission. Thanos never got paranoid himself – if someone came for him, he’d probably just give them an autograph and go back to sleep. But everything else during that time pissed him off. Someone scratching their head was enough to make him want to destroy everyone and everything around. And maybe he would’ve, if his body wasn’t like a lifeless rag, too worn out to even get seriously angry. That’s why they already had their system: Thanos would cuddle up to Namgyu, and Namgyu wouldn’t scratch his head.

Easy. 

They both collapsed onto Namgyu’s hard mattress, shaking like a pair of vibrators from Semi’s collection. It was cramped – that fucking mattress was barely the size of two unfolded pizza boxes – but Thanos didn’t complain. He hugged Namgyu from behind, grabbed his hip, rested his forehead against his neck, smelling the mix of weed and cold sweat on him. Thanos had to be a massive faggot for that not to bother him. On the contrary – the scent was familiar, grounding.

They didn’t fall asleep right away. Thanos could hear Namgyu occasionally taking a breath too deep, like something was stuck in his chest. And every time he felt Namgyu tense up too much, he’d run his thumb along his hipbone until he loosened again. Thanos had his own eyes closed, but inside, everything was still pounding. Every tiny sound from outside slammed against something under his skull. A few times he thought about maybe packing another bowl, but the idea of having to get up killed that urge instantly. So instead, he tried to focus on Namgyu’s scent and his greasy hair tickling his face.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours, but eventually it eased. Namgyu stopped trembling. Thanos stopped dissecting every sound. And bit by bit, they drifted off. Stinking, sticking to each other. Breathing together like two overheated animals. 

Thanos woke up a few times during the night. Always too suddenly, with a throat too dry and muscles aching. The first time, he was woken by a scream from outside. He lay still for a while, then glanced at Namgyu. He was out cold – mouth slightly open, messy hair spilling over the pillow and his neck. Thanos couldn’t look away.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

The second time, it was his own pulse pounding in his ears. This time, Namgyu was nestled into the crook of his neck. Thanos lifted his weak hand and placed it on the small of his back, thinking that it would be pretty fucking great to wake up like this every day. He closed his eyes and fell asleep with that thought lingering in the back of his head.

By the third awakening, he was basically awake for good, but didn’t move. Just watched. Namgyu was mumbling in his sleep, incomprehensible, like he was arguing with someone through clenched teeth. His brows furrowed, eyelids trembling. He was ridiculously cute. Apparently, even in his dreams, he had to bitch at someone.

“Namsu,” he whispered into his ear.

At the sound of his voice, Namgyu’s face immediately smoothed and calmed.

“Thanos…” he murmured in his sleep, shifting closer to the rapper.

Even asleep, he sought his friend’s closeness, like it was something wired into his subconscious. Like he was a robot programmed to always, no matter what, gravitate toward Thanos. It was unbearably cute, so much so that Thanos felt the urge to punch him for it. Cuteness aggression, that’s what it was called. The rapper fumbled blindly beside the mattress until he found his phone, quickly snapping a picture of Namgyu curled up against him. He felt like a total creep, but fuck it. He wanted to keep that moment somehow.

He really had to take a piss, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and go to the bathroom. He didn’t want to leave Namgyu. So he lay there next to him for a good half hour, wide awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady breath brushing against his neck. He even started piecing together some lines for a new track in his head – something about a beloved person sleeping in his arms. Princess found his prince, yeah, we locked in tight, snoozin’ in my arms through the whole damn night, throwin’ love spells on me, got me feelin’ right. Some shit like that. He pictured himself writing the whole song and singing it to Namgyu when he woke up. He’d probably just think Thanos was fucking with him again. 

Thanos untangled himself from his friend’s arms when he felt his bladder was seriously about to explode and dragged himself to the tiny bathroom. He was fixing his hair in the mirror, which had gone flat overnight, when he remembered some tips he’d read yesterday on a forum and figured he might as well wash up. He scrubbed himself down with the three-in-one gel he found in the shower, then brushed his teeth with his finger and Namgyu’s aloe toothpaste. The moment the taste hit his mouth, he remembered how many times he’d caught its scent in his friend’s breath. Holy shit, this was almost like they’d kissed.

He dried himself off with the hand towel and got dressed again in his sweat-reeking clothes from yesterday. He could have borrowed something from Namgyu, but that would’ve meant going through the closet naked, while his friend was sleeping right there, ready to wake up any second and make eye contact with his bare ass. A few days ago, Thanos wouldn’t have given a shit, but now it felt, well, kind of awkward.

Mumbling under his breath the next lines of his imagined song, he went back to the room, where Namgyu was still dead asleep. How long can one person fucking sleep? Thanos thought about waking him up, but he knew that would just piss Namgyu off and earn him whines about still being tired. Instead, he took another picture of him and, out of boredom, opened TikTok. But he was restless as hell, felt like something was about to tear him apart from the inside. The day after doing speed should have been spent in a vegetative state, but now, for some reason, he couldn’t sit still for even three seconds. Well, the reason was obvious – Namgyu. Thanos started plotting scenarios in his head for how to properly seduce him. The cute nicknames were still pissing him off, but that was only a matter of time. Setting up the bucket bong, on the other hand, seemed to have worked, same with letting him win in Mario Kart and buying him a meal. Who would’ve thought the guy would fall for the same tricks as a chick?

Thanos checked his bank account, hoping the amount would be enough to get them some breakfast. But the second his eyes met the number on the screen, he closed the app instantly. Fuck this shit. He could easily go without eating himself, but there was no way he’d let Namgyu go hungry. 

Without much hope, he headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Inside he found an opened pack of beer, an energy drink, and some milk, which confirmed his suspicion of being spoiled the moment he smelled it. Just for the hell of it, he moved the beers to see if something was hiding behind them, and there it was, a real treasure – a full carton of eggs. Full of suspicion, he cracked one open and sniffed it, fully expecting it to be in the same state as the milk. But surprisingly, it seemed fine.

“Let’s fucking go!” he called out to himself. He was one lucky motherfucker.

He wasn’t exactly a master chef, but he could whip up scrambled eggs without breaking a sweat. Crack the eggs into a pan, stir them a bit, and that’s it, no rocket science. He dug out the cleanest pan from the cupboard, set it on the gas stove, cracked all the eggs into it, and generously seasoned them with the salt sitting next to the burner. Namgyu was going to freak when he saw Thanos had cooked them breakfast. He wouldn’t even be pissed about being woken up, because who wouldn’t want to be woken by breakfast in bed? Up until now, Thanos had never thought of himself as a romantic, but it turned out he had that in him. He just had to put in a little effort to bring it out.

The pan was heating at a snail’s pace, the eggs stubbornly staying a slimy mix of yolks and whites. Thanos suddenly remembered why he didn’t like cooking. The shit required insane amounts of patience, something he had absolutely none of. He took a drag from his dying vape and started pacing around the house impatiently, convinced the eggs would cook faster if he wasn’t watching them. The little fuckers were probably shy.

As he passed Namgyu’s room, he saw him sitting on the mattress, knees pulled up to his chest. Shit, he didn’t look so good. Probably still coming down. Every other thought evaporated from Thanos’s head, his whole reality shrank down to Namgyu’s curled-up figure.

“Thanos?” When Namgyu saw him standing in the doorway, relief washed over his face. “I thought you’d left me. That you’d gone back home.”

Thanos was by his side in half a second. He knelt on the mattress and cupped Namgyu’s face in his hands.

“I’m with you, my boy.”

They stayed like that for a moment in silence, Thanos stroking his friend’s cheeks with his thumbs. He wanted to lean down and kiss him on the top of the head, but decided that might be pushing it a little too far, even for them.

“My head’s fucking killing me,” Namgyu complained.

Thanos stroked his forehead.

“That’s just the comedown, man. It’ll pass, I promise. We’ll get high again soon and everything will be chill again.”

“You took a shower?” Namgyu eyed Thanos’s still-damp hair suspiciously.

“Didn’t want you thinking I’m a stinker.”

“You are a stinker. Actually, now that you mention it, something really does stink in here.” He sniffed the air, a frown forming between his brows. “Thanos… seriously, what the fuck is that smell?”

Thanos sniffed too, and yeah, he smelled something burnt, like something was…

Oh, fuck. The eggs.

“Fuck!” Thanos bolted upright and ran to the kitchen.

The eggs had turned into a black, charred mess stuck to the bottom of the pan. In a hurry, he shut off the gas and threw the window open to let the smoke out.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Namgyu’s voice came from right next to his ear. He’d followed him in and was now peering over his shoulder.

“Nothing, fuck it, doesn’t matter,” Thanos tried to block the burnt pan with his body, but Namgyu impatiently shoved him aside.

“Is that… is that fucking burnt eggs?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Thanos,” Namgyu’s voice carried a clear edge of anger. “Did you try to steal my eggs while I was asleep and burn them on top of that?!”

“I was making you eggs. But then I saw you were awake, and in a shitty mood, and I completely forgot about them.”

Thanos regretted not having done any drugs yet today. He could’ve at least hit the geeb before starting breakfast, but he’d wanted to wait for Namgyu so they could light up together. And now he had to face this completely clean. This was the second day in a row they’d had some kind of blow-up, and both times he’d been stone-cold sober. He wanted to smash his head against the wall. How the hell could he fuck up something as simple as scrambled eggs?

“Man, you don’t have to lie that you were making them for me. Just admit you wanted to scarf down my eggs while I was sleeping.”

Thanos wanted to grab Namgyu by the shoulders and shake him.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of lying. I was making you breakfast out of the kindness of my heart, and you’re yelling at me for it.”

“You ruined my pan!”

“You’ve got two more, you’ll live.” Thanos ran his hands through his hair. He was mad at himself, not at Namgyu, but of course the frustration was spilling onto him. He didn’t want that. He wanted to run to the store, spend all the money he had left on new eggs, and actually make Namgyu breakfast. He wanted to pull him close. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to fuck him. But instead, he’d completely fucked up.

“If you were hungry, you could’ve made yourself instant ramen. You know where it is.” The pissed-off look on Namgyu’s face deepened. He really thought Thanos was lying.

“Namgyu…” Thanos started, trying to make his voice sound soothing.

“Namgyu,” his friend shot back, then after a moment frowned. “Wait, what?”

For a good few seconds, they just stared at each other. Finally, Namgyu’s expression began to soften. Thanos wasn’t sure if it was because he’d used his actual name, or because Namgyu had never been able to stay mad at him for long. Thanos slowly walked up to him, like he was approaching a skittish cat that might bolt at any second. He placed his hands on his shoulders, and Namgyu rested his forehead against Thanos’s chest and asked:

“You really were making me breakfast?”

“I’m not lying, man.”

Namgyu let out a snort.

“That’s so fucking stupid. Why the hell would you do that?”

Because I think I’m in love with you and I have absolutely no idea what to do about it , he thought. Out loud, he went with a half-truth:

“Because I know you, man, and I know you always wake up in an edgy mood after speed. So I figured maybe if I shoved a plate of food under your nose first thing in the morning, you’d be easier to deal with.”

“Fuck off.” Namgyu pretended to wriggle out of Thanos’s arms, but without much conviction.

“I’ll make us that instant ramen.”

“Oh no, no fucking way.” This time Namgyu pushed him away for real. “You’re not touching anything in this kitchen again today. I’ll make the ramen. And then we need to get high, or I’m gonna lose my fucking mind sober.”

Thanos decided that was a good plan.

Namgyu had work today, something he absolutely couldn’t get out of anymore. Thanos still stuck around until the very last moment before Namgyu had to leave, because the whole MG Coin thing was still gnawing at his ass and… fuck, he didn’t even know what to call it. He knew perfectly well that if he went back to his own place, Namgyu wasn’t suddenly going to invite that fuckface over and jump on his dick. But still, he wanted to be sure.

He’d never been jealous of anyone before. Even when he found out some chick had cheated on him – zero reaction. Total chill. Honestly, he was the one cheating on them more often, so getting pissed about that kind of thing would’ve been silly. Thanos used to think jealousy wasn’t even real. He thought it was some made-up crap for uptight, sober people who didn’t know how to have fun. I mean, if some hot chick started rubbing up on him, who was he to say no to a quick blowjob in the bathroom? Exactly.

And yet, jealousy was real. Painfully, fucking real. Because now all it took was thinking about Namgyu having some other friend – anyone who wasn’t him – and something boiled inside him. A full-on rage. The kind that made him kick a car parked crooked on the curb on his way home.

Or maybe it was just the pills they’d popped earlier.

Who the fuck knows.

When he got home, he changed into some non-smelly clothes and called Semi. Strangely enough, he wasn’t planning to go to the Pentagon tonight. When he’d told Namgyu that, the guy had thrown a fucking tantrum. He’d only spoken to Thanos in half-sentences until Thanos remembered the pack of smokes he’d bought for him the day before. He handed them over, and only then did Namgyu chill out. The guy had some fucking nerve – he was the one who’d skipped work last time and left Thanos alone.

Not that Thanos didn’t like going to the club. He loved getting drunk there, getting high for free, and watching Namgyu roast clients while acting like a total bitch to the boss, who would never fire him anyway, because Namgyu was the only one who could keep that damn place from falling apart. But Thanos needed a plan. And, pathetic as it sounded, he also needed advice.

Trying to hit on Namgyu was going, to put it mildly, like jerking off with a plastic bag. It was getting more and more frustrating. Usually, all it took was a couple of lines like “nice eyes, lemme see your tits” and the girl was either on his dick or slapping him in the face. No unnecessary bullshit. But with Namgyu? Thanos was bending over backwards like some idiot simp, and either he made himself look like a complete dumbass, or Namgyu didn’t even notice. Thanos’s ego was starting to bleed a little, and the irony was, Namgyu was usually the one who inflated it the most.

As for advice, he ultimately decided on Semi. Because Minsu – first of all – was probably still a virgin, and second, thanks to the damn benzos he popped like candy, he was often so spaced out it was impossible to get anything done with him. Thanos needed someone with real experience in picking people up, and nobody (except himself) had more of it than Semi. Plus, Semi was a lesbian, so she probably knew better how to approach someone of the same gender. Maybe there were some rules, some nuances Thanos had no clue about.

He showed up at her place with a bottle of vodka, because she’d already warned him over the phone that if she was going to listen to his bullshit, she’d need some alcohol in her system. She could be a total bitch sometimes, seriously. But Thanos knew his sis, okay? He knew her way too well. This girl drank for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so he seriously doubted she’d even answered his call without at least two beers already in her bloodstream. No joke, Thanos sometimes thought she could outdrink even his old man. Not that he minded. Who was he to judge?

For an alcoholic, her apartment was surprisingly clean. No sticky counters, no smells like a Pojangmacha after closing. If it weren’t for the empty cans and bottles strewn in artistic chaos by the bed, you might think someone here actually had their life together. And honestly, Semi had it together better than the rest of their crew.

When he came in, she snatched the vodka from his hand without a word and dropped onto the couch. The wind coming through the open window blew her overgrown bangs out of her eyes, which were looking at him with irritation. But that was just her default face – at least toward anyone who wasn’t a hot chick or Minsu. Semi had a soft spot for him. Thanos wasn’t surprised. He felt the same way.

“So what do you want from me?” she asked, unscrewing the bottle and taking a swig. She immediately winced and looked at the label. “Jesus, you bought the cheapest crap.”

“Señorita, you think I’m made of money?” he said with a shrug. Vodka was vodka. They all tasted the same to him.

Semi snorted.

“Oh, believe me, I would never accuse you of that.”

Thanos didn’t take offense. She was right. He was so broke it practically reeked of poverty. Not his fault, though. All because of that fucking MG Coin. If it weren’t for that asshole, Thanos would’ve invested in some legit crypto and be rolling in cash right now. Hell, he could buy Namgyu anything he wanted. He’d be his full-time sugar daddy. Maybe then there wouldn’t be all this drama. Maybe they’d be making out somewhere in the Pentagon like it was the most normal thing in the world.

When he came back from the kitchen with the blackcurrant juice Semi had told him to grab as a chaser, he sat down next to her on the couch.

“I need advice, bro,” he said bluntly. “Love advice.”

Semi raised an eyebrow, the corner of her chapped lips twitching ever so slightly. 

“Legend Thanos is asking me for relationship advice?” she said with open mockery. “What happened? Some chick wouldn’t fuck you?”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m serious,” he muttered, yanking the vodka from her hand and taking a swig himself.

Ugh. Yeah – disgusting crap. Semi handed him the juice without a word so he could wash that burning acid off his tongue.

“It’s about a guy,” he finally admitted after a short moment of silence, handing her back the bottle.

Thanos wasn’t even sure what kind of reaction he expected from that confession. Maybe that Semi would spit the vodka out laughing like in some cheap anime, or at least that her eyes would widen in theatrical shock. Instead, there was just a flicker of understanding across her face, like suddenly everything had clicked into place.

“Okay,” she nodded.

Thanos frowned.

“What do you mean okay?!” he raised his voice. “This is big news , señorita!”

“I think only for you.”

“What?!”

“Thanos, please,” Semi gave him a meaningful look, running her gaze from head to toe, as if that alone should be enough of an answer.

He made an even more confused face.

She sighed.

“Remember when you had that thing for Ezra Miller?”

“I just liked him in The Flash!” he protested. What, a guy can’t appreciate another man’s acting skills now?

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” she laughed. “Same way you liked Jungkook when he grew his hair out.”

“Everyone likes Jungkook!” Thanos threw his hands in the air and collapsed heavily against the back of the couch.

“I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re a dumb lesbo,” he muttered under his breath.

“And you’re a dumb fag.”

Thanos fell silent. He was out of comebacks. If Namgyu were here, Semi wouldn’t have had it so easy. He could cut someone to shreds with words, sharp as a scalpel, and still smile like he was handing out compliments.

Right. Namgyu. That’s why he was here, not to argue about goddamn Jungkook.

Except Namgyu hated Semi. At least most of the time. And Semi… well, she tolerated Namgyu because he was Thanos’ best friend. Thinking about it, their whole crew was kind of toxic. But whatever. The problem was, Thanos probably shouldn’t reveal exactly who he liked. Semi might toss him some shitty advice just to “protect” him and sabotage his chances. He’d seen that kind of thing happen in cartoons, TV shows, and even once on TikTok. And he actually cared. About Namgyu. That’s why he’d shown up here, ready to embarrass himself.

He reached for the bottle, taking another swig. Not too much, because he still had a bit of molly in his system, not much, but enough to send him spinning if he overdid with the vodka.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I like this guy. But… shit, I don’t know. I’m trying to rizz him up, only it’s not working. Fuck.”

Semi stayed silent for a moment, watching him with that tired but alert look of hers, like she was weighing whether it was worth getting involved in this drama or if she should just drop it and go back to being a functional alcoholic. She rubbed her forehead, reached for the bottle, and sighed heavily, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She looked more like someone dealing with a slow child than with a living rap legend.

“Rizz him up?” she repeated with fake disgust. “What exactly have you tried to do?”

Thanos looked away, scratched his chin, and gave her a condensed version of what happened yesterday and today. He skipped, of course, the bit about the burned scrambled eggs, because fuck it, Semi didn’t need to know everything, okay? And still, with every sentence, her smile got wider, like his pathetic attempts were some shitty sitcom for her amusement.

“You’re such a romantic,” she finally muttered.

Normally, he would’ve agreed. But there was that typical, flat contempt in her voice, so he just narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. Maybe he should’ve gone to Minsu instead. The little benzo junkie wouldn’t have given him any useful advice, that was for sure. But at least he would’ve stroked his ego a little, thrown out something like, “You did what you could, Thanos, don’t stress about it,” and then gone back to lying under a blanket watching weird anime on his tablet. Minsu might’ve been fucked in the head, but at least he didn’t call people fags.

“Maybe your boy thinks you’ve just fallen on your head, not that you’re trying to hit on him,” Semi said, resting an elbow on her knee. “And I don’t know if ‘princess’ is the best nickname for a guy. Seriously. He probably thinks you’re mocking him.”

Thanos pursed his lips, furrowed his brow, and thought about it.

“Yeah, but… fuck, he is such a princess.”

“Oh, for sure,” she snorted.

“What?”

“Never mind.” She waved her hand. “If you really care, stop playing these stupid games and just tell him straight.”

Fuck, maybe she had a point. After all, even now Thanos still had to constantly reassure Namgyu that he liked him and that his breathing alone didn’t piss him off. Like the guy had it drilled into his head that every relationship was a ticking time bomb. Seriously, if Thanos ever met his mom, he’d hit her so hard her own son wouldn’t recognize her. Normally, he didn’t hit women – rules and all – but some of them seemed to be begging to be the exception.

“But that’s just so… boring,” he sighed, still unconvinced. “What am I even supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’m gay for you’? Fuck no.”

“Jesus, Thanos.” Semi made the exact same face she’d made when they first met and he tried to hit on her with a freestyle. “How the fuck did you get so many girls?”

She shook her head in disbelief and rubbed her forehead like his sheer helplessness was giving her a headache.

“Make it not boring. Once, for a girl who was super into escape rooms, I wrote my love confession encoded in a puzzle. Took her two days to solve it. She thought it was the most romantic thing in her life.”

She went quiet. A look of distaste crossed her face, like she’d just taken a sip of non-alcoholic beer.

“Then she cheated on me with some mathematician, but that’s not the point right now.”

Thanos raised an eyebrow.

“Was there some hidden moral in that?”

“Yeah. Don’t be a pussy. Come up with something from the heart. Or the balls. Whatever.”

Thanos groaned, dragging his hands down his face like he was trying to wipe away his own cringe. He’d been hoping Semi would drop some kind of secret homo rizz trick, some +10 gay seduction spell, but nope. Apparently, that kind of thing didn’t exist. Or it did, just not for bozos like him. Fuck it. She was probably right. She was the smartest in their crew, which wasn’t saying much, considering the competition was a benzo-addled wimp and a junkie who got offended over every little thing.

He watched for a moment as Semi sipped vodka and fiddled with the ring in her lip. She always had great style, but instead of appreciating her killer look, Thanos’s brain decided to screw with him and gave him a mental image of Namgyu with the same piercing. Fuck. For a split second, he imagined him with that shiny little piece of metal and wanted to scream, because he’d look so sweet it hurt his teeth. Holy fuck.

He needed to come up with something. Something big. Maybe slip his confession into a ziplock bag of coke? A little paper heart with “I love you” on it. Though, knowing his luck, Namgyu would get so hyped about the drugs he’d snort the whole thing without even noticing – and then blow Thanos’ love out into his hoodie sleeve. Great fucking plan.

Semi eventually put on some show, playing it quietly in the background, and they finished the bottle. Then she pulled out some soju, because why not. And then… well. Then Thanos blacked out.

Thanos woke up on Semi’s couch with his head pounding like Thor from the Avengers was sitting inside his skull, smashing his hammer against it from the inside. He staggered to his feet and dragged himself to the bathroom, where he knew Semi kept painkillers in one of the cabinets. He washed down a random pill with tap water, then shuffled back to the living room. There, by the open window, he lit up a bowl he’d stolen from Namgyu. Only then was he able to form anything resembling coherent thoughts.

Dawn was breaking outside, and Thanos had no idea how long he’d been asleep, since he had no clue when he’d actually passed out. Truth be told, he didn’t remember much after Semi had put on that k-drama of hers. But their earlier conversation? That he remembered perfectly. He had to admit, Semi’s advice had really given him something to think about. Lesbians did know what was up, after all.

Once the haze from the bowl hit him, his brain snapped back into shape and started working out a creative way to confess his feelings to Namgyu. It had to be something spectacular, like everything Thanos did. He started by thinking about what Namgyu liked. Drugs, obviously, but he’d already crossed out the idea of smuggling a love note inside the stash. Still, there was something else – Thanos’s rap.

Namgyu had been a fan long before they’d met. The first time Thanos walked into Pentagon, Namgyu, working the bar, had just about lost his shit. He kissed his ass harder than the chicks who wanted to fuck him. Bought him something like ten drinks, then broke out some coke and giggled like a teenage girl the whole time. Thanos couldn’t shake him off for the rest of the night. The guy even ditched his customers to follow him around, yapping in his ear. At first, Thanos couldn’t care less about him, only coming back to Pentagon for the free drinks and drugs, but over time, he’d grown to genuinely like the guy, especially after seeing what a nasty cunt Namgyu could be to literally everyone else. And even after years of friendship, Namgyu still came to every single show, screaming the loudest right under the stage, and every year ended up in Thanos’s top 0.01% of listeners on Spotify. He practically pissed himself with excitement whenever Thanos rapped new material for him. Thanos always gave him a private concert before dropping a new track online, supposedly to get his feedback, but Namgyu’s opinion was always the same – everything Thanos made was so insanely good it made him want to pop another pill because his brain was about to explode.

The answer was obvious. Thanos had to write a rap that doubled as a love confession. After something like that, there was no way Namgyu wouldn’t be his. If the guy didn’t like dicks now, this song would make sure he’d start. And there was no way he was performing it privately at one of their apartments like he usually did. Oh no, Thanos wanted to turn it into a big fucking show. The plan in his head was slowly taking shape, like the world snapping into focus on amphetamines.

He snuck into the hallway, moving quietly so as not to wake Semi. But just as he was putting on his shoes, she came out of her room, not looking sleepy at all, with a half-empty bottle of wine in her hand.

“Running off without a word?” she asked accusingly.

“Semi,” he began in a ceremonious tone, “if you weren’t a lesbian, I’d kiss you all over right now.”

Semi’s eyebrows shot up.

“I already know how I’m gonna confess my love to him.” He patted his chest proudly. “And it’s all thanks to that badass advice of yours. You really are a fucking great friend.”

“Told you, man, you’d figure something out.” She took a swig from the bottle. Jesus Christ, did she ever stop drinking and actually go to bed?

“Drop by Pentagon tonight. And bring Minsu. And your bitch, if you’ve got one right now. Bring whoever you want, even your parents.”

He blew her a kiss at the door before rolling out into the stairwell. As soon as he stepped outside, he pulled out his phone and dialed Namgyu’s number. It took three tries before he picked up.

“Man, are you out of your mind? It’s like five in the morning.” Namgyu’s voice was half-asleep. Thanos couldn’t help but imagine him rubbing his eyes and brushing the hair off his cheeks, where it had stuck while he slept. Something pulsed painfully in his chest, and his first thought was, oh fuck, maybe all those vapes and bucket bongs had finally wrecked his lungs for good, but then he realized it was just longing. He hadn’t seen Namgyu in less than a day, and just picturing his face made him want to run straight to his apartment right now, just to watch him lying on that disgusting mattress he usually couldn’t be bothered to cover with a sheet.

“Namsu, it’s important. You’re working tonight too, right?”

“Yeah.” Thanos heard the rustle of a blanket, sounded like Namgyu had sat up. “Why?”

“Tell your boss that the legend Thanos wants to give a concert at Pentagon tonight.”

Pentagon wasn’t usually a live show kind of club. But when Namgyu’s boss, Inho, realized the famous rapper had started hanging around more often, he’d pulled him aside and offered to set up a space for a show. He’d even offered him a decent paycheck. Up until then, Thanos had thought of him as just some unremarkable old dude who, God knows how, had ended up running a druggie bar, but that day, he had to admit he respected his business sense. They’d cobbled together a makeshift stage, brought in some sound guys, spread the word on social media. The place had been packed like never before, gaining a ton of new regulars. Thanos had already done three such shows there, more than making up for all the free drinks Namgyu slipped him under the counter.

“Thanos, for fuck’s sake, tonight? There’s no way we can pull it together that fast.”

“You can. I’m telling you. I don’t need a stage, just give me a big table that won’t collapse when I start jumping on it. Call your boss and tell him the word’s already out on social media.”

“I’m not calling him at five in the morning.”

“Give me his number, I’ll call.”

“No fucking way. You’ll say some dumb shit and get me fired. I’ll call him at eight, okay? And I’ll let you know what he says. But seriously, reschedule this for next week. Why the hell so last minute?”

“I can’t.” Thanos thought that if Namgyu didn’t end up in his arms tonight, he might just lose his fucking mind. He couldn’t wait any longer.

On the other end, there was a long sigh. For a moment, Thanos worried Namgyu would keep pushing back, but all he said was:

“Fine, I’m going back to sleep. I’ll let you know in three hours.”

Then he hung up. Thanos quickly posted on all his socials that there’d be a show at Pentagon tonight. He’d have to hit up Daeho, who often made beats for him. He was about to call, but then realized Daeho was the one person he’d actually feel bad about waking at five in the morning. Fuck it, he’d call later. Daeho could whip up a sick beat in under an hour anyway. Thanos had no idea how he did it.

He thought about whether there was anything else he’d forgotten. Oh, fuck, of course. He still had to write the damn lyrics. Thanos usually wrote his songs at random moments, whenever something popped into his head. A line would start circling around his mind, and he’d slowly tack more onto it, jotting everything down in his phone notes. He’d never actually sat his ass down with the deliberate intention of writing a song, and it freaked him out a bit that maybe he wouldn’t be able to do it. As soon as he got home, he dug the last of his own stash, hidden away for a rainy day, out of his nightstand drawer, and snorted a line of speed to boost his inspiration. Once it hit, he sat down on the floor, closed his eyes, and pictured Namgyu’s face. Was it even possible to find the right words to describe him? Human language suddenly felt ridiculously limited. Thanos could sing about how Namgyu was hot as fuck and how much he wanted to fuck him, but that would be an understatement. He could sing that about any random whore.

“Suck my dick like you’re pulling clouds from a pail, then open that hole, let me ride the trail,” he mumbled under his breath, then winced. Jesus fuck, garbage. Although, to be fair, that was exactly the kind of thought running through his head the day before, when they’d been getting high and he’d watched Namgyu’s lips wrap around the bottle opening, his cheeks hollowing. He’d actually felt jealous of that stupid piece of plastic.

But Thanos didn’t just want to fuck Namgyu. Hell, thinking about it now, he didn’t want to fuck anyone else for the rest of his life except him. And even then, it wasn’t just about that. He wanted Namgyu entirely, exclusively, in every possible sense. If he could, right now he’d stick him in a wedding dress and set him up at an altar, then vow to be with him in highness and sobriety, till death do them part, or however that vow went.

Writing a song about fucking was easy, but writing a song about love turned out to be a hell of a challenge. Turns out all those assholes who said love couldn’t be put into words were right after all.

When Namgyu called at half past eight, Thanos still had jack shit. But he tried not to panic. There was still time before the evening.

“Inho said yes,” Namgyu announced.

“ LET’S FUCKING GOOO!” Thanos shouted, almost forgetting for a second that he still hadn’t written the damn lyrics. “Namsu, I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m gonna debut a new track tonight.”

“Oh fuck, really?” In his mind, Thanos saw Namgyu’s eyes light up like twin lighters. “Can I hear it now?”

“Not this time, my boy. But you’re gonna love it, I promise. And I’ll sing it to you as much as you want after.”

When they hung up, Thanos immediately called Daeho and told him he needed a beat for a new track for that night’s Pentagon show. Preferably as soon as possible.

“Damn, Thanos, couldn’t you have told me earlier? Kinda messes with my plans for today.”

“Bro, I’ll pay you this time, double, whatever you want. Please, just do it for me.”

“Thanos, I know you don’t have money,” came the long sigh. “Alright, it’ll be ready in, like, two hours max.”

“Thank you, bro!”

Thanos hoped that once he got the beat, things would go more smoothly. He lowered his gaze to his knees, where he held an open grid notebook full of crossed-out lines. He read over what he’d managed to put together – something about Namgyu’s eyes, dark as night but shining like stars, about the sound of his voice that sent shivers down Thanos’s spine, about his smile like a ray of sunshine. Basic as fuck, he decided, and crossed out almost everything. The lyrics sounded shallow and impersonal, and the whole point was for Namgyu to know instantly that the song was about him. Thanos wished he had more speed.

He grabbed his phone again and pulled up the photos of Namgyu sleeping that he’d taken the day before. He zoomed in on his face, annoyed that the busted phone camera couldn’t catch all the freckles on his cheeks, that the inky black of his thick hair looked strangely dull in the photo. In his mind, though, Thanos could picture Namgyu perfectly, every detail burned into the inside of his skull. No matter how high he was, he could recall each and every feature without fail.

He thought about the first time Namgyu freaked out on acid, and how Thanos, even though he was having a great time himself and would’ve preferred to keep staring in fascination at how the spilled beer drops on the table were shifting colors and shapes, took him by the elbow and led him out behind the club. And then sat with him for a full three hours, rapping Namgyu’s favorite songs, because that was the only thing that made him feel better. They’d known each other barely two months back then, but it was enough for Thanos to know he’d do absolutely fucking anything to put a smile on that pretty face.

He thought about that time they were sitting in Pentagon with Semi, and some girl settled herself on Thanos’s lap. She was drunk off her ass, kissing his neck, her long, acrylic-nailed fingers roaming near his belt. A matter of minutes and he’d have been on his way to her place, fucking her on a bed that was probably covered in sheets the same violently pink shade as her whole outfit. But then he felt someone grab his shoulder, heard a voice whisper in his ear: “Thanos… Thanos, let’s go to my place.” Five seconds later, he’d shoved the chick off his lap and forgotten completely how ready he’d been to fuck her. He told Semi they were leaving and she could keep his new friend if she wanted, and dragged Namgyu toward the exit. They’d fallen asleep that night together on his mattress, and when Thanos woke up, Namgyu was lying full weight on top of him, as if together with the mattress they’d formed some fucked-up sandwich, with Thanos as the slice of ham trapped between the bread.

He thought about Namgyu dyeing his hair in his bathroom and how they’d gotten the whole sink filthy. About how his friend forgot to wear gloves and for the next three days, the insides of his hands were stained purple. “Looks like you gave Thanos from Marvel a handjob,” he’d told him then, and Namgyu elbowed him in the ribs and told him to fuck off.

He thought about how, at concerts, he always searched the crowd for Namgyu’s face, his eyes staring up at him with awe, and how just seeing him there made Thanos give everything he had. He sang for him, put so much effort just for him. He was the one Thanos never, ever wanted to disappoint.

He thought about Namgyu’s head on his shoulder, on his thigh, about his face framed in his hands. He thought about the tons of drugs they’d done together, about all the hours they’d wasted doing random shit, just to do it together. He thought about how he couldn’t pinpoint one defining moment, one specific second when he’d fallen in love. It must have happened gradually, like every day spent together was a single drop falling into a glass, and when the glass finally filled, Thanos realized he had drowned in it. He was head over heels in love with that fucking junkie, and there was no way back.

He reached for the abandoned notebook and began scribbling in it feverishly, as if possessed. He wrote about how doing drugs with the person the song was about was way better than fucking, and he really knew what he was talking about, since fucking was basically his bread and butter. He wrote that he’d trade every second he’d ever spent with random chicks just to spend it with that person, chilling together on a couch. He wrote that he could even quit drugs for them, but why the fuck would he, when they could take them together. He wrote that he’d learn monogamy, no more random bathroom hookups. He wrote, for the first time in his entire career, about love. And behind his eyelids, like a second heartbeat, the memory of Namgyu asleep in his arms pulsed endlessly.

When Daeho called to say the beat was ready, Thanos already had the full lyrics done, and there was still a fuckload of time left before the evening to put it all together and rehearse it properly.

Thanos decided to show up to the concert sober. Or at least as sober as he could manage. He didn’t want to screw everything up because of his own bad mood. Usually, he went on stage totally spaced out, high as a carpet after New Year’s Eve, but tonight was different. Tonight, he had to be sharp. Ready to throw out something witty, maybe even romantic, when Namgyu ran into his arms after the last beat. And, most importantly, he wanted to remember everything. Every detail. Because this was the most important performance of his life. And if he fucked it up, he’d seriously go jump off a bridge. No bullshit. And then Namgyu would end up with MG Coin for sure.

That’s why before leaving the house, he only smoked three joints and dropped half a tab of acid, just for courage. For a moment, he was tempted to hit up Minsu for some benzos, but then he remembered that those often gave him dick problems, and if everything went according to plan, that dick was supposed to have its season premiere tonight.

He showed up at Pentagon the usual two hours before the show. For that club, it was still very early, but the place was already buzzing. Fans clung to him like chicks to horoscopes after a breakup. All it took was someone spotting his purple hair, and suddenly he had a trail of excited little sheep following him.

Of course, the most hyped of all was Gyeongsu – that kid Thanos swore he’d seen at every single concert he’d ever played. The guy probably had a dedicated folder in his phone with nothing but pictures of the rapper. And yeah, Thanos let him take another one, because, as previously established, he had a weakness for his fanboys. Besides, the kid had to be pretty crafty if he’d managed to sneak past security again. Thanos was almost certain he still wasn’t legal.

Finally, Namgyu showed up, and the second Thanos saw him, in that stretched-out dark sweater with a red wifebeater peeking through underneath, something went off in his chest like an old microwave. He looked so absurdly good that Thanos’s face just broke into a grin on its own. God, how badly he wanted to grab those bony hips, pull him close, and kiss both his cheeks until they turned pink like after a good party. Or better yet, wipe off that fucking concealer he had to wear at work to hide “imperfections.” Imperfections? Bullshit. To Thanos, everything about him was perfect. Pimples? Cool. Dark circles? Even better. Freckles? Instant hard-on. But apparently Namgyu’s boss was not only blind but completely fucked in the head.

Fuck him. Seriously.

Namgyu pushed his way through the small crowd of fans and stopped right behind him, placing his hands, still hidden in the sleeves of his sweater, on his shoulders. He addressed the crowd in that tone of his that could somehow be both diplomatic and bitchy at the same time – Thanos had no fucking clue how he pulled it off, but it was insanely hot. He mentioned something about Thanos needing to get ready and some other filler crap, then gently nudged him toward the door marked “Authorized Personnel Only,” and they disappeared through it together.

Namgyu didn’t pull away right away. On the contrary; he moved even closer until the tip of his nose was almost brushing the back of Thanos’s neck, and a few stray strands of hair tickled his ear. Overall? Fucking great. Thanos wasn’t about to complain.

“You smell weird,” Namgyu mumbled, his breath warming Thanos’s skin more than any pre-show warm-up, which he never believed in anyway.

Then Namgyu took a step back. Thanos turned around. Suddenly, they were face to face. Namgyu looked him over from under half-lidded, slightly glazed eyes, wrinkled his nose in that totally cute way, and Thanos had the sudden urge to grab his cheeks and squish them like Play-Doh.

“You look weird too,” Namgyu added.

Well, fuck. Thanos knew what he meant, but it still stung, because he’d actually put some serious effort into himself today. He’d ditched his neon, as his mom called them, “juvenile” T-shirts in favor of a black mock turtleneck and a racing jacket with purple accents that played so perfectly with his hair that he’d almost jerked off to his own reflection the moment he saw himself in it. On his feet were his sacred sneakers, the limited-edition ones he kept in a box wrapped in a towel like holy relics. He only wore them if he was going to die or get laid. And today? Both seemed pretty realistic. He smelled like “a mustang on a moonlit night” – or at least that’s what the label on the stolen perfume sample claimed. He’d sprayed himself with it like a maniac on the way to the club.

And now the guy was telling him it was all weird. Well, shit. 

“You like?” he asked, spinning around like he was on a fucking runway and throwing a glance over his shoulder. He was counting on something more than just a shrug from Namgyu. A “wow,” maybe even a “you look hot as hell, daddy,” anything.

Namgyu only rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched, so Thanos wasn’t completely out of the game yet.

“The fans will definitely like it,” he said, in the kind of tone that implied Thanos gave a damn what random strangers thought. As if he hadn’t dressed up specifically for him. As if Namgyu’s reaction wasn’t supposed to be the whole fucking point.

Thanos’s shoulders sagged. He looked down at himself with the expression of someone who’d just realized he looked like a stylized clown on crack. In the mirror, it had all seemed a lot better. Definitely less desperate.

Namgyu grabbed his elbow. Thanos’s gaze flicked to him automatically.

“I stole something just for you,” Namgyu grinned like the Cheshire Cat and pulled a small ziplock bag of white powder from his back pocket. “We can do a line after you’re done talking to Inho.”

“I’m sorry, flower, but you know what acid with coke does to me.”

Namgyu blinked. The smile dropped from his face, and Thanos felt like diarrhea in a jacuzzi.

“Oh. Alright then,” he muttered, shoving the bag into the pocket of jeans that hugged his ass so perfectly Thanos almost forgot how to breathe. “Want me to bring you molly instead?”

“No need.”

Namgyu let go of his elbow. His brows drew together, and his mouth twisted into an accusatory grimace. He looked at Thanos with a mix of disappointment and annoyance.

“What, you planning to score a visit to the church after this or something?”

Thanos was actually hoping to score him.

“Chill out,” he started, but before he could say anything else, Inho walked out from the door on the right.

The man addressed them with his signature smile – seemingly friendly, yet ice-cold underneath. He nodded toward Thanos, signaling him to come over. The rapper gave Namgyu an apologetic pat on the shoulder and headed for the office of the Pentagon’s boss.

Before he disappeared through the doorway, he threw Namgyu one last glance. The other man was still watching him, biting his lower lip like he was trying to figure him out. Like he had a puzzle in front of him, and he was starting to like the solution less and less. He didn’t look pissed. More… confused. Probably already letting some stupid scenario take root in that beautiful head of his.

Fuck, maybe Thanos should’ve just taken the pill. One wouldn’t have made him lose it. E hit him like vitamin D for the elderly. Jesus fuck. He hadn’t even gotten on stage yet, and he’d already messed something up. And again, just because he’d skipped the drugs.

For fuck’s sake.

Inho’s office was small but stylish. Posters promoting the Pentagon hung on the walls, and one of them even featured Thanos’s mug, caught mid-verse on their tiny stage. The lighting in the room was dim, which made everything seem more mysterious than it really was, because the biggest mystery here was that it didn’t reek of cigarettes or booze like the rest of the club. And, of course – there was Inho himself. Thanos was convinced the guy was completely messed up in the head. He had no proof, but seriously, something was off. Namgyu claimed it was just paranoia because Inho reminded Thanos of his father, but Thanos knew what he was talking about, okay? The guy just gave off creep vibes. Or serial killer ones.

Inho sat behind the desk and handed him a sheet with tonight’s tracklist. Nothing surprising – a few hits, a few forgotten tracks that never broke through, but Thanos liked them, so he threw them into the setlist regularly.

“I took songs from your last concert,” Inho said calmly. “Since you decided to organize everything at the last minute, I figured there was no point waiting for your input.”

Thanos rolled his eyes, but only in his head. Outwardly, he just nodded.

“Namgyu mentioned you wanted to play something new?” Inho looked up. “Where should I put it?”

“At the end. You can mark it with a heart or something.” Thanos scratched his cheek.

Inho didn’t move. He just looked at him with that expression like he was deciding whether the milk in the fridge could still be saved or if it was time to throw it out.

“Title?”

Ugh. Right. Fuck. He didn’t have one. He’d been so focused on writing the lyrics that he’d completely forgotten about it. And now this bastard was staring at him expectantly, and Thanos – well, he panicked a little, okay?

“Namsu.”

Inho’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn’t comment. He simply jotted something down.

Jesus Christ. Thanos wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Inho knew that nickname, and exactly who it was for. Thanos was never the blushing type, mostly because he rarely had a reason to. But now his neck felt hot.

“Here’s the beat. If anything screws up, I have a backup on my phone,” he said quickly, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a flash drive. He handed it across the desk.

Inho took it without a word. For a moment, he looked Thanos over from head to toe, scanning him. And then, almost offhandedly, he said:

“You look good.”

Fantastic. Namgyu tells him he looks weird, but at least he managed to warm the icy little heart of his messed-up boss. Maybe Thanos wasn’t the type for sweet, broken druggies. Maybe his real target audience was fifty-year-old men with a suspicious aura and a collection of jazz records no one listens to. Fucking perfect.

Thanos didn’t get a chance to see Namgyu before the show, and maybe that was for the best, because he was already shitting himself like a priest caught with an altar boy. Stress level: off the charts. He’d never been this sober before stepping on stage, and now that his head wasn’t floating in some fairyland where pixies give you a blowjob while tickling your ass, suddenly everything felt brutally real. Even in The Rap Battlegrounds finals, when he forgot his lyrics, he honestly didn’t give a fuck. He ran on autopilot, then got even more fucked up afterward and that was that. It only hit him during the hangover how badly he’d embarrassed himself, but back then he still had time to push it away. Now, if he screwed up, there’d be nowhere to hide – he’d have to live through it live, minute by minute, with every bead of sweat sliding down his neck. 

Luckily, Gyeongsu was here. The kid believed in him like he was God. Seriously, even if Thanos rapped about buying potatoes with his grandma, he’d clap like it was a Tupac concert. For that kind of loyalty, Thanos really owed him a fat joint someday.

On stage already sat Pentagon’s DJ – Jiyeong. Always with a stone-cold face, like she’d just walked out of an interrogation, but her comebacks were always on point. Namgyu said that for a girl, she was cool. And if Namgyu said some chick was cool, that meant she had to be a total badass. Thanos once heard rumors she’d done time for killing her old man. Allegedly with her own kitchen knife. Respect. Thanos wondered if she took commissions.

Jiyeong was spinning classic Pentagon bangers, the same ones Thanos had snorted lines and popped pills to more than once. Some of them still looped in his head on the come-down. Even so, every now and then someone in the crowd would scream his name.

“Thanos!”

“Thaaaaanos!”

Thanos felt like this time Thor from Avengers was sitting in his chest, smashing his ribs with his hammer. His heart had never pounded this hard from stress. He felt like some loser about to ask the prettiest girl in class to prom. He felt like a virgin about to get laid for the first time. He felt like he might just faint. He kept telling himself it was going to be just like any other concert. After all, he fucking loved performing. Nowhere else did he feel as comfortable as when stage lights blasted him in the eyes and everyone in sight was screaming his lyrics at the top of their lungs. He was like a fish in water, like a stoner on a weed farm. Apparently, though, all of that went to shit when the concert was also supposed to double as a love confession. His first ever. His first real one, because sure, he’d told his exes he loved them, and maybe with some of them he’d even believed it. But that was only because back then he didn’t actually know what love was. And it was one hell of a bastard. 

Finally, the moment came to step on stage. Jiyeong packed up her gear, and the roar of voices chanting his name was blowing his eardrums.

“WHAT’S UP, MOTHERFUCKERS?! WELCOME TO THE THANOS WORLD!!!” he shouted into the mic the second he faced the crowd.

He scanned the audience, pretending to size up its size but actually searching for Namgyu. And there he was, of course, standing right at the front of the stage. He’d weaseled his way out of working the bar, just like he always did when Thanos performed. His eyes were bloodshot from drugs and full of adoration. Thanos hoped he’d be looking at him the same way when he was blowing him later.

He got so caught up staring that he almost missed the start of the first track’s beat. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from his friend’s face and sweep them across the crowd. He spotted a few other familiar faces. Gyeongsu was also right up front, phone in hand, even though his whole gallery was probably already clogged with dozens of clips of Thanos performing the same damn songs. Semi and Minsu were there too, a bit to the side, pushed back by the screaming mob. And there was Daeho, way in the back by the wall – Thanos barely spotted him. Poor guy sometimes got panic attacks in crowds, so he didn’t always come, but apparently he was curious about this new track he’d helped work on. And was that… fuck, was that MG Coin? Thanos locked eyes with him for a split second, and that was the only moment in the whole concert when he hit a wrong note, which that asshole immediately laughed at. Fuck him.

The adrenaline flushed the stress right out of him with the sweat. He lost himself in the crowd’s admiration, almost forgetting for a moment why this show existed in the first place. He deliberately avoided looking at Namgyu so he wouldn’t lose his rhythm, which was hard as hell and felt alarmingly like the withdrawal pangs he’d gone through two days ago. Before he knew it, he’d sung everything except the new song, and suddenly, once again, he felt like he had drunk too much and was about to throw up.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, and another scream rolled through the Pentagon. “The reason I’m playing this concert tonight is that I wanted to debut a new track, and all of you gathered here will have the honor of being the first to hear it.”

Thanos waited for the fans to stop screaming and went on:

“You should also know that this isn’t just any new track. It was written for a very fucking special person, if you know what I mean. And as it just so fucking happens, that person is here right now. This one’s for you, my little princess.”

The crowd went wild. Thanos had no doubt that every fangirl was imagining the song was about her. Yeah, they wish. Daeho’s beat dropped, and Thanos started rapping. Finally, he let himself look toward the spot where Namgyu was standing. He wanted to sing it all straight to him, looking into his eyes, like in some corny romcom. He wanted to feel like the whole world faded away, leaving just the two of them, while the rest of the crowd was nothing but a writhing mass of losers. There was only one problem – Thanos couldn’t, for the life of him, catch Namgyu’s gaze. His friend’s eyes were fixed somewhere lower, like he’d suddenly become fascinated by Thanos’s shoes. Sure, they were limited edition, but for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he stare at them later?

Irritated, Thanos tore his gaze away and swept it across the crowd. Jesus, how much had that junkie taken to be this spaced out? What if he was so out of it he barely realized Thanos was even singing, with every word going in his ears and immediately out his ass? If that was the case, Thanos was going to kill him first, and then himself.

He made it to the last verse without looking back at Namgyu, but that part with the words “I love you” he had to rap in his direction. His eyes went to the spot where Namgyu should have been, but instead there was some random chick. If not for years of stage training, his voice would’ve cracked like hell. But he kept going as if nothing happened, hoping the frantic scanning of the crowd didn’t mess with his laid-back front. At last, he saw him, or rather, his back, pushing his way through the crowd. Fuck, maybe he really was having a bad trip and heading to the bathroom to pull himself together, alone, because Thanos couldn’t be there with him right now? Then a worse thought hit Thanos. What if Namgyu had actually figured out the song was about him but didn’t return the rapper’s feelings, so he couldn’t even stick around till the end?

Thanos switched his body to autopilot. He was half-aware of himself jumping around the stage, pulling stupid faces, bowing every now and then and yelling, “Thank you so much, motherfuckers!” The crowd’s screams tangled with the ones in his head. This was so fucked. Everything had gone off the rails and he didn’t even know where he’d fucked it up. Namgyu was supposed to jump on stage now and latch onto his face, Thanos was supposed to grab his ass and lead him out of the Pentagon like a trophy, then enjoy his prize for the rest of the night, maybe even the whole next day. But instead, Namgyu was gone.

Thanos did what he often did during club shows – he jumped into the crowd. Dozens of hands caught him, tossed him up a few times, then set him down and surrounded him on all sides. Someone kissed him on the cheek, someone threw their arms around his neck, someone shoved a pen into his hand asking him to sign their forearm so they could turn it into a real tattoo the next day. Fuck, he’d thought jumping into the crowd would make it easier to push toward the spot where he’d last seen Namgyu, but yeah, no – shitty idea. He couldn’t even breathe, let alone move. From every side he was bombarded with love confessions and questions. And even though his chest still felt like he’d just smoked a joint laced with crushed glass, he kept signing autographs, grinning for photos, and hugging people back. Because what else was he supposed to do? These were his fans, after all, and Thanos loved his fans. Really. These crazy motherfuckers were the reason most of the good things in his life had happened. It wasn’t their fault Thanos was going through his first real heartbreak right now. He took all the compliments about the song with a smile, because, let’s be real, it was true, it had turned out fucking great, the best thing his fried brain had managed to squeeze out in his whole career. To all the nosy questions about who the lucky girl in the song was, he just shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. It’s a little secret, he was saying, while his heart longed for that damn junkie.

Eventually, he felt one of the Pentagon’s security guards clearing a path through the crowd and helping him push toward the backstage area. If Namgyu wasn’t waiting for him there, he might just kill himself. Maybe the idiot had just gotten embarrassed and that’s why he’d left the concert, but was now waiting here for Thanos to throw himself into his arms the moment they were alone.

But Namgyu wasn’t there, and while Thanos didn’t actually kill himself, he still felt like he was dying. This was worse than a few hours of sobriety, worse than a kick in the balls, worse than anything he’d ever gone through. He kicked the wall a couple of times and was already winding up a punch when there was a knock at the door. He lunged to open it, but instead of Namgyu, Semi was standing there.

“He’s outside, behind the club, next to the dumpsters,” she said before Thanos could even open his mouth. “I saw him go out there a while ago.”

Thanos stared at her blankly, not having the slightest fucking clue what she was talking about.

“Namgyu,” she said, and the sound of that name hit him like she’d just decked him in the face. “He’s by the back staff entrance.”

Thanos still just stood there, staring at her. Sure, he wanted to sprint in that direction, but he was in mild shock that his friend somehow clearly knew exactly what was going on.

“You figured it out from the song, who it was about,” he guessed. Well, of course she had. Semi wasn’t stupid, and she knew both of them well.

“Thanos,” a weird smirk crossed her face, like she was barely holding back a laugh. “I knew who you meant the moment you came to me for advice. And by the way, thanks to you, Minsu owes me money. He bet you two would get together months ago, but I bet it would take you emotionally-stunted idiots a little longer to even realize you were in love. Especially you. I think Namgyu’s known for a while.”

“Wait, what the fuck are you even…”

“Thanos,” she cut him off. “Just fucking go to him.”

Thanos decided he’d deal with her and Minsu later for apparently having known he was in love with Namgyu for ages without telling him. Right now there were more urgent matters. He bolted for those damn back doors like he was being chased by cops with sirens blaring, and kicked them open so hard they nearly flew off the hinges.

And there he was. Sitting on grimy concrete steps next to a trash container, a cigarette smoldering in the fingers of his right hand, hunched against the evening chill.

And guess who the fuck was sitting next to him? That goddamn, motherfucking, son-of-a-bitch MG fucking Coin. Thanos was so shocked he froze in place instead of immediately punching him in the face. Or punching Namgyu, who was handing the bastard a cigarette from his pack, the one Thanos had bought him, along with the lighter he’d stolen from Thanos.

Thanos felt his heart drop to his ass. Then to his feet. Then fall out of his body and roll along the spit-covered sidewalk, leaving a bloody trail behind.

“I get this isn’t like when Junhee dumped you, but, I dunno man, tell me honestly, what would you…” Namgyu stopped mid-sentence when he saw Thanos standing in the doorway.

He shot to his feet like someone had lit a bonfire under his ass, looking like a teenager caught by his mom while jerking off. The cigarette and lighter fell from his hands before Myunggi could catch them.

“This has to be some kind of fucking joke!!!” Thanos roared so loud they probably heard it inside the club. He slammed the door shut behind him and stepped into the yard. He must have looked seriously dangerous, because Namgyu actually backed up onto a higher step. Myunggi just stared at him like he didn’t feel the slightest threat. Let him be surprised when Thanos painted his eyelids purple in a second. “I’m fucking looking for you everywhere, worried you got a bad trip out and left the concert, and here you are, you fucking traitor, hiding in some corner with this dickhead again?!”

Thanos thought that if he weren’t so head over heels for Namgyu, he might actually have fallen out of love right there. I mean, come on – second time in three days he caught him playing besties with his mortal enemy? That’s just fucked.

“What the fuck do you care how I spend my time and with who?” Namgyu shot back, but his voice didn’t sound confident at all. “You don’t get to forbid me from seeing my good friend Myunggi just because you don’t like him. You hang out with Semi all the time, and you know I fucking hate her ass.”

“I’m not hiding my friendship with Semi! Since when the fuck is this dick your good friend?!”

“Not. Your. Fucking. Business,” Namgyu spat out each word. His cheeks were red. Thanos didn’t know if it was from anger or shame. “And by the way, you have no fucking right to throw anything at me. When exactly were you planning to tell me you have a new girlfriend?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Thanos frowned. Where the hell had Namgyu gotten that idea?

“I heard your fucking song, Thanos.”

“You didn’t like it?” Namgyu might as well have kicked him in the stomach. How the hell could he hear something Thanos had written specifically for him and somehow think it was about some new chick? He’d made it pretty damn clear he preferred him over any possible pussy in the world.

Namgyu ran his fingers through his hair and tugged, like he always did when he was stressed. His eyes were red, but not in the usual drugs related way, more like he was about to cry. Oh fuck. Could his song really have been so bad it made Namgyu want to bawl?

“Thanos…” his voice wavered. “How could you be so cruel to me? First you tell me you’ve got a new song, and then… then you pull this shit. When you came over two days ago, I already suspected something was up. First you decided you had to quit drugs for me, but I know it was actually ‘cause you had to quit because of me. Some bitch told you to stop seeing me ‘cause she didn’t like how much we use together, and that’s why you were so fucking sweet to me afterwards. It was a goodbye, right? And when you asked if I’d never leave you, it was because you were scared how I’d react to you being in a relationship, but this time, a serious one? You tried learning to cook in my kitchen for some chick, to impress her later, I guess. And then… then you said you weren’t coming to the Pentagon because you wanted to meet up with Semi, but who the fuck knows who you really went to see, and then… then you say you want to throw a last-minute concert, using your connection to me to get a show at the Pentagon, just so you could publicly declare love to some bitch, your little princess, for whom you dressed up and sprayed yourself like never before and… and I… fuck, Thanos, how can you be so fucking dense and not see that I…”

Thanos stared at Namgyu like he’d just grown tits. His mouth fell open so wide he thought his jaw might unhinge and hit the pavement.

Still sitting on the step, Myunggi snorted with laughter. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, but failed to hide the obvious amusement all over his face.

“Namgyu,” he said. “Ask Thanos who his song was about.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Thanos and Namgyu said at the same time.

MG Coin looked offended.

“First you drag me here to give you advice, and now you get mad when I do what you asked. Thanos,” he turned to him. “Tell Namgyu who your song was about.”

Even without that fucker’s advice, he knew what he had to do. Namgyu had to seriously have bird shit instead of a brain to think Thanos was hitting on some random chick, when in reality he’d been hitting on him this whole damn time. At least now it made sense why he’d gotten pissed and walked off. He thought his friend was about to ditch him for a relationship with someone else. As if Thanos hadn’t given him enough proof – like, dozens of times – that this would never happen.

“I’ll tell him,” he said, crossing his arms. “But first, get the fuck out of here.”

Myunggi rolled his eyes, but got up from the steps and headed for the door behind Thanos. Once he was out of sight, the rapper pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the front camera. He stepped up to Namgyu and said:

“This is the person I was singing about, my boy.”

Then he shoved the phone under his friend’s nose, where Namgyu was now staring at his own damn face. Instead of jumping for joy that it’d been about him all along, Namgyu rolled his eyes and said:

“You turned on the camera, not the gallery, dumbass.”

“I know. But if you prefer, I can show you a photo.”

Thanos flipped the phone back toward himself and pulled up a picture of Namgyu sleeping. The same one he’d been looking at when he wrote the song. The same one he’d jerked off to just to kill time before heading to Pentagon. He shoved the phone into Namgyu’s face, and his cheeks instantly went red.

“Fuck, why the hell do you take pictures of me while I’m sleeping?”

“If you don’t like this one, I can find another. Though personally, I think it’s super fucking cute.”

In a hurry, he dug up some shot from three weeks ago where Namgyu had a dick drawn on his forehead. Then another, taken by Minsu, when they were all hanging out at Semi’s. Finally, Namgyu’s face shifted into an expression of understanding. It clicked for him that Thanos hadn’t shown him the wrong picture by accident, nor had he lied about being in a new relationship. The rapper pocketed his phone, brushed his friend’s hair back behind his ears, then took his face in his hands, forcing him to hold eye contact.

“Now do you know who my song was about?”

Namgyu nodded. His eyes had that weird, wild, startled look, like a deer who suddenly run into a wolf.

“Say it out loud,” he ordered.

“About me.”

“A full sentence.”

“You wrote a song about me.”

“That’s a good boy.” He stroked his cheeks and hair.

“But Thanos… that would mean you’re…”

“Say it, Namsu.” Thanos slid his hands to the back of his friend’s neck and pulled him even closer. Their faces were only centimeters apart now. Thanos could feel Namgyu’s body leaning into him, melting under his touch like butter on a hot pan.

“That would mean you’re in love with me.”

Thanos grinned wide.

“Finally, it fucking got through. I am, my cute boy. I love you.”

Then Thanos kissed him. He didn’t fuck around, didn’t bother being gentle. Right from the start, he shoved his tongue into his mouth. Namgyu’s lips were dry and tasted like cigarettes. A muffled moan escaped his throat and made Thanos’s dick get hard. If he weren’t holding Namgyu’s neck so tightly, the guy would’ve probably collapsed onto the floor and splattered at the rapper’s feet.

“Subong…” Namgyu gasped when they pulled apart for air, and Thanos nearly came in his pants at the sound of his real name from those lips. “I fucking love you too. Ever since I met you, but I thought I didn’t stand a chance. I never even imagined that…”

“Namgyu,” he cut in. Namgyu’s eyes went wide at hearing his name said properly. “I could fuck you right here, right now, on these disgusting, spit-covered steps.”

Namgyu’s pupils were so blown they nearly swallowed his irises, and Thanos knew it wasn’t just the drugs.

“Let’s go to my place,” he whispered in Thanos’s ear.

The best thing about Namgyu’s apartment was that it was only a twenty-minute walk from the Pentagon.

It took them almost twice as long to get there.

All because Thanos kept getting distracted every damn step by the giggle at his side, the smaller hand slipped into his own, the familiar scent of cigarettes, weed, and something else – something warm and sweet, like mulled wine on a fucking freezing night. Every now and then he’d pull Namgyu closer, as if they weren’t already close enough, as if they weren’t already tripping over each other trying to fuse into one. But now, every centimeter of distance felt like a goddamn mile, and Thanos was never the type to enjoy long-distance relationships.

He buried his face in that hollow by Namgyu’s neck, just behind his ear, and inhaled the scent that turned his brain into jelly and lit up everything – his heart, his guts, his kidneys, his dick. Hell, even his toes. His hands roamed shamelessly under the stretched sweater, under the red wifebeater, and Namgyu sighed like he was shooting up heroin. His fingers clenched in Thanos’s jacket, clinging to him harder and harder, repeating his name in a loop. Thanos started scanning surroundings for a dark alley, a doorway, even some filthy dumpster corner to drag his new boyfriend into. Because with every minute, it felt like Namgyu’s apartment was getting farther away instead of closer.

He’d always thought the best superpower would be Deadpool-style regeneration. But now? Now he just wanted to fucking teleport.

Eventually, they made it.

Thanos kicked open the building door and yanked Namgyu inside like they were being chased by a pack of thugs fresh off a free mephedrone tasting. But the second those busted-up doors slammed shut behind them with a dull thud, Thanos spun around and pinned his boy to the scraped, yellowed wall. Their mouths crashed together again, hungry, swollen from the endless kissing on the way. Thanos ran his tongue over his upper lip, then bit it. Namgyu let out a half-moan, almost a mewl, and the sound went through Thanos like a heated wire driven into his spine. He smiled into the kiss, feeling all his blood rush straight to his cock.

His grip on Namgyu’s hips tightened and he rolled his pelvis, grinding against Namgyu’s hardness. The sound Namgyu made was so desperate Thanos thought something inside him might actually break. He couldn’t remember ever being this turned on. Maybe it was Namgyu – easily the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. Maybe it was that voice – sweet, perfect, unreal. Maybe it was the way Namgyu looked at him – not like some broke, fucked-up junkie, but like someone who could give him the world. Or maybe it was just because Thanos was so in love with him he couldn’t imagine life without him anymore.

He didn’t stop moving. His hips worked in a steady, almost frantic rhythm, shoving Namgyu harder and harder into the cold stairwell wall. The heat between them was building, thick and suffocating. Namgyu’s fingers dug into Thanos’s black turtleneck, another muffled moan spilling from his throat. It was drawn-out, trembling, like a drop of thick liquor settling on Thanos’s skin, setting him ablaze from the inside. And fuck, those sounds were intoxicating. Driving him out of his mind.

Thanos moved his right hand to Namgyu’s face. His thumb brushed over the cheekbone, wiping away the last traces of that shitty concealer that didn’t hide the sweet blush anyway. He leaned in and kissed the spot he’d just cleared, the tenderness at odds with the brutal thrust of his hips. Then his fingers dove into Namgyu’s thick black hair. Without warning, he gripped and yanked his head back. The sound Namgyu made this time was sharp, sudden. It ricocheted off the concrete walls like a gunshot.

Thanos should probably have been more concerned about the fact they were basically dry-humping each other right at the entrance to a building full of seriously messed-up people. But his brain was locked on one thing – that moan, the one that made his cock jerk in his pants like it had a mind of its own. His mouth fell open, saliva pooling under his tongue like a dog at a butcher’s window. He stared at Namgyu’s exposed throat. At the taut tendon, the delicate Adam’s apple, that thin layer of skin he could sink his teeth into like ripe fruit. His heart pounded like a hammer. Namgyu’s body trembled under his touch. Thanos leaned in and dragged his tongue along the bared skin – slow, almost reverent. Then he started planting messy, wet kisses: on his neck, under his ear, along his jawline, on his collarbones.

Namgyu sounded like an angel someone was touching between the legs for the first time. And Thanos wouldn’t have been surprised if he actually was an angel. An angel who was an absolute cunt to everyone except Thanos. An angel with track marks on his forearms. An angel who had called that night when Thanos was standing on the edge of a fucking bridge, and had asked, hesitantly, if he wasn’t interrupting.

His own personal, beautiful, sweet, fucked-up little angel.

Their bodies shook like they were on some massive comedown. Thanos slid his hands down, grabbed Namgyu’s ass, and pulled him in even tighter. Desperate. He started moving faster, sharper. There was no control left, just raw need. The dry friction through their pants and underwear was driving him mad. Namgyu hooked a leg around his hip and parted his lips, breathing shallowly, unevenly, like he was choking on the need. Thanos could feel every hard edge of the zipper, every tense muscle in Namgyu’s body, every twitch, moan, breath, clutch of fingers.

“…anos, Thanos, Thanos,” Namgyu’s voice cut through the haze, sounding more and more pleading, almost panicked. Namgyu’s hands pushed at his chest, trying to shove him away, though like they weren’t fully committed to it, or maybe just didn’t have the strength anymore. “Thanos, oh… fuck, wait.”

Thanos didn’t stop right away. For a fraction of a second his hips kept moving on their own, like his body couldn’t catch up to the command. Then he started pulling back, with effort, because every cell in him was screaming not now, not yet.

He stopped pressing into him, stopped grinding, but he was still close. He couldn’t not be close to Namgyu.

Thanos’s breathing was heavy, ragged. He tried to calm down, though his whole body still strained forward. He rested his forehead on Namgyu’s shoulder, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning in frustration. His pulse pounded in his ears like he’d snorted too much, and his muscles tightened under his skin like they might burst any second. His hands still gripped Namgyu’s hips, while Namgyu’s trembling fingers slid into his purple hair and began combing through it gently. Slowly. Calming. With a tenderness that clashed so hard with what had just happened, it felt like Thanos’s chest might crack open from the pressure inside.

“Let’s go inside, Thanos. Please.”

Namgyu’s voice sounded… strange. Like the words were melting on his tongue. Thanos lifted his head and froze.

Oh fuck.

Namgyu had tears in his eyes.

Panic hit Thanos like a sudden bad trip. He took a step back. Then another one. His heart dropped to his stomach. He’d done something wrong. Fucked up. Holy shit.

“Oh no, no, no, fuck, Namgyu…” He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do. If it had been some random slut, he would’ve just bailed and that would’ve been the end of it. But as had been established a long time ago, Namgyu wasn’t some random slut. He was the love of his fucking life.

“Fuck, don’t cry, I didn’t…”

He stopped. Namgyu was breathing fast, erratically, but he still looked horny as hell – his pants were stretched tight like they were about to rip, and his hips trembled slightly, still seeking touch. Thanos looked down, then back up, and when their eyes met, he didn’t see hurt, only embarrassment and sheepishness. Namgyu’s cheeks went crimson.

“Oh God…” Namgyu whispered, covering his face with his hands.

Thanos stood frozen. Blinked once. Twice. And then it hit him.

Namgyu had almost come.

Namgyu had nearly blown his load in his pants right there in that fucking stairwell, pinned against the wall like the star of some cheap porno – and had almost cried because of it. Thanos swallowed, or maybe gulped something thicker, because honestly it felt like Namgyu had slipped some drug straight into his bloodstream with those kisses. Like he’d just been blasted into the stratosphere.

“You almost…?” he stammered in disbelief. Then, uncontrollably, he let out a laugh under his breath. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Namgyu mumbled through his hands. His voice was still shaky, a little tearful, and Thanos felt like he could come in his pants from that alone. Seriously. This was the most insanely hot thing that had ever happened to him. And they hadn’t even made it inside the apartment yet.

Thanos took Namgyu’s hands and gently pulled them away from his face. Namgyu didn’t resist, but he also couldn’t quite meet his eyes. He was biting his swollen lip, staring somewhere at Thanos’s neck instead.

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking adorable.

Thanos grinned wide and planted an exaggerated kiss on each of his cheeks. Namgyu frowned, scrunching his nose, so Thanos kissed him loudly on the mouth.

“My Namsu,” he whispered sweetly into the warm space between them.

Namgyu scrunched up even more, but Thanos knew that irritation was just for show. His breath was still uneven, and his dilated, high-as-fuck pupils stared at him like Thanos had just invented morphine. Thanos felt that if his dick didn’t get inside Namgyu in the next few minutes, he might just die.

He tugged Namgyu by the hand, and together they headed for the stairs. Namgyu followed without a word, still a little shaky, but his fingers clung tightly to Thanos’s hand, as if afraid to let go.

As they climbed, Thanos finally registered the familiar screaming coming from number eight – classic. Someone was at it again, yelling like they were being skinned alive or getting a lobotomy through the ass. Thanos smirked to himself. Namgyu would be screaming soon too, but from pleasure. The kind of pleasure that would make his brain ooze out through his ears. And if not, Thanos figured he’d have to do a week sober as penance. Hell, maybe even drag himself to church to beg for redemption.

When they reached the door, Thanos was so eager he seriously considered just kicking it open. He didn’t have an ounce of patience left in him. But before he could swing his leg, Namgyu caught on to what he was about to do and grabbed him by the chest, laughing softly right into his ear. That sound – quiet, a little hoarse, lazy – was like pouring gasoline straight onto a fire that was already burning too hot.

“Wait a fucking second,” Namgyu murmured, reaching into his back pocket for the keys. He turned them in the lock, but before he could press the handle, Thanos suddenly grabbed him by the waist and thighs and, without any warning, lifted him up like some fucking princess.

Namgyu let out a startled gasp, instinctively clutching at his shoulders. Thanos looked at him, grinning like a maniac. Sure, carrying a grown man when you had the most stubborn hard-on in the history of the universe wasn’t exactly comfortable… but fuck it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Namgyu managed, but he couldn’t keep from smiling.

“Relax, babygirl,” Thanos purred.

Namgyu stared at him in disbelief.

“Don’t call me that, you fucking idiot,” he grumbled, but didn’t try to pull away as Thanos carried him over the threshold like a freshly wedded bride.

The door slammed shut behind them with a dull thud. Thanos didn’t slow down. He strode through the apartment in a few quick, heavy steps and unceremoniously threw Namgyu onto that ugly orange couch of his. It groaned like it was about to collapse any second. Namgyu landed with a quiet chuckle. Arms sprawled, legs spread, his stretched sweater and undershirt had ridden up a few centimeters, exposing smooth skin on his lower stomach and a sliver of tattoo by his left side. He looked a little dazed, but his eyes were gleaming.

The familiar smell hung in the air – must, sweat, and a ton of smoked weed. The whole apartment was saturated with THC like clothes after a three-day festival. But Thanos didn’t notice anymore. The only thing in his head now was Namgyu. Only Namgyu.

Thanos knelt down by the couch, not taking his eyes off him for even a fraction of a second. His hand wrapped around Namgyu’s ankle, and without a word he pulled off one sneaker, then, with a slight yank, the other. He tossed them behind him without caring where they landed. His hands slid higher – along the calves, past the knees, up to the thighs – feeling the irritating fabric of his pants under his fingers. Namgyu shuddered. His pupils were unfocused, hazy, and his nails dug unconsciously into the couch upholstery.

Thanos smiled faintly. Something in his chest tightened, a familiar, warm, slightly suffocating feeling. That fucking thing called being in love. Although maybe it wasn’t so fucking bad. Maybe it was the best thing that had ever happened to him in this messed-up life.

“Take off the sweater,” he ordered in a hoarse, low voice, while already working at the button of Namgyu’s pants.

“Okay, okay,” Namgyu mumbled, nodding as he grabbed the red undershirt. He started wriggling out of it together with the sweater, clumsily, in a rush, like something was burning him from the inside. It might not have been the most sophisticated striptease Thanos had ever seen, but it still made his lower belly boil like never before.

He dealt with the rest of Namgyu’s clothes in record time. Moments later his boyfriend was left only in black boxer briefs, stretched tight from his erection and visibly damp where the fabric couldn’t hold any more of that sticky, hot arousal. It had soaked straight through. And for a second, Thanos really had to take a deeper breath, because the sight of Namgyu spread out – pupils blown wide, a wet mark between his legs, body taut – hit him like a fucking freight train.

Christ, how had he not figured out before that he was into cocks? How had he not figured out he was into Namgyu? Because lying there like that – flushed, beautifully fucked-up, and his – Thanos felt like he could do anything for that sight. He could move mountains. He could quit drugs. He could sign up for some insanely boring college course, go there every day in a sweater with a notebook. Hell, he could even go grab a beer with his old man. Anything. Seriously.

He ran his hand along Namgyu’s thigh, over the tattoo of an eye with a pentagram instead of a pupil. His fingertips hooked under the waistband of the boxers, feeling Namgyu’s hips lift slightly, instinctively, and his breathing lose rhythm again. Thanos only brushed his thumb over the dark ink on his skin, keeping his gaze locked on the place where Namgyu’s cock twitched beneath the soaked fabric.

Namgyu’s hands moved to his shoulders – Thanos still had on the jacket he’d picked out specially to look sharp. His fingers clutched at it, trembling, desperate. Thanos met his gaze at the exact moment his hand pressed against the bulge in the fabric. Namgyu let out a sweet sigh, biting his lip, and his knees spread wider, involuntarily. Submissive.

“You’re wet like a girl,” Thanos murmured, pressing his hand harder, feeling the hot pulse beneath his fingers.

Namgyu let out a quiet moan, staring at Thanos with such a pleading look that a shiver ran down the rapper’s spine.

“I’m not a girl,” Namgyu managed weakly, and there was a strange uncertainty trembling in his voice.

Thanos smiled tenderly and slid his hand under the sticky boxers, wrapping his fingers around his cock.

“You don’t say?” he asked, amusement in his tone.

Namgyu didn’t answer with words. His mouth fell open, and a long, surprised sound tore from his throat. His spine arched like Thanos had just pulled every breath and bit of strength out of him with a single touch. He looked like a fucking miracle. The rapper licked his lips, feeling that he’d just leaked into his pants himself. But really, who the fuck wouldn’t in his place?

Thanos grabbed the waistband of Namgyu’s boxers and, with a sharp tug, slid them down until the fabric slipped over tattooed thighs and bunched at his ankles. Namgyu kicked them off entirely, the underwear landing on the floor. Thanos took him fully in hand, fingers closing around him. He started a slow, controlled stroke from base to tip, letting the warm, slick skin glide smoothly under his touch. Namgyu sucked in a sharp breath, another broken, trembling sound spilling from his lips – one that shot straight down Thanos’s spine. With every tighter squeeze, he felt Namgyu’s body tense and shiver, as if each motion hovered right on the edge of unbearable, as if just one more stroke might split him apart from the inside.

Thanos stared at that gorgeous face, melting into the couch like sugar in hot tea. Dark strands of hair clung to freckled, flushed cheeks. His lips kept parting or getting bitten between desperate teeth. His brows were drawn, his eyes squeezed shut, lashes fluttering with every deeper inhale. Finally, Thanos let his gaze travel down, and the thought hit him hard – Namgyu had, without question, the most beautiful cock he’d ever seen. Perfect shape, perfect color, skin smooth as silk, weight in his palm so right it was almost absurd. Like someone had designed it specifically for Thanos to be holding at this very moment. Fuck, only Namgyu could be this perfect.

“You’re amazing…” Thanos whispered, then leaned down to brush his lips against the taut skin of Namgyu’s lower abdomen.

Namgyu reacted instantly. His body jolted, hips instinctively pushing into Thanos’s hand, eyes flying open – and if it weren’t for the circumstances, that look could have been mistaken for panic. A sound slipped from his throat, high-pitched and trembling, a mewl laced with something unbearably sweet, almost pleading.

Thanos was so hard it hurt, but right then, he couldn’t care less. All his focus was consumed by the sheer worship he felt for the boy beneath him. He pressed his thumb to the slick, pulsing tip, feeling Namgyu’s thighs fall open and his breath catch in his chest. The moan cut off for a single, breathless second before coming back louder, dripping with raw, shameless delight. But when Thanos felt Namgyu was right at the brink, his cock practically vibrating, pre-cum spilling in such quantity it almost looked like he’d already come, Thanos tightened his grip hard at the base, holding him back.

Namgyu whimpered, moved his hands from Thanos’s shoulders into his hair, and yanked sharply, almost like revenge. Thanos doubted it was intentional, and even if it was, jokes on him, because it was the kind of thing that made him feel like he could come in his pants. A quiet groan slipped out of him. He released Namgyu’s cock and clamped his hands onto his bony hips.

Fuck…

“Thanos, please, please, please…” Namgyu tugged on his hair with every word, and Thanos couldn’t believe this was his actual life. He must’ve been some kind of fucking saint in a past one.

“Thanos, please,” he whimpered again, this time in English, as if that might change the rapper’s decision. Thanos let out a short, low laugh and brushed his lips over the trembling thighs of this sweet little junkie.

“Not yet, kitten,” he purred, shifting up and pressing his clothed body to the naked one. He swept the black strands away from the boy’s heated face. Namgyu blinked, like he was trying to return to reality but not quite making it. He was still trembling slightly, breathing in ragged bursts, his skin hot and sticky with sweat.

He looked at Thanos with a gaze that was equal parts offended and so turned on that Thanos just had to kiss him again. He cupped Namgyu’s cheeks and dragged his tongue across the plump lips, which instantly parted, letting him in. After everything, they both tasted the same – like cigarettes and love confessions.

Thanos could feel the thigh muscles under him still twitching in short, involuntary spasms, until they finally wrapped around his waist. Namgyu rolled his hips, grinding his cock against the taut fabric of Thanos’s pants. Thanos groaned into his mouth, then pulled back with one last fleeting kiss.

“Be good,” he warned with a smirk.

Namgyu scrunched up his nose, tugging at Thanos’s jacket impatiently.

“Come on, for fuck’s sake, just take this shit off already,” he said, dragging out the words in that distinct way of his that made Thanos have to kiss him again, because holy fuck.

“I didn’t get all dressed up like this just for you only to take it off so fast.”

Namgyu went silent, his eyes going comically wide.

“For me?”

Thanos snorted, brushing a hand over his hair, cheeks, neck.

“No, for your good friend MG Coin,” he muttered. “The song was for him too, by the way. He’s the one who…”

“Christ, shut up,” Namgyu reached out to press a hand over Thanos’s mouth. But after a moment, his expression softened, and in his eyes there was something Thanos could only call pure happiness.

“You look good. You always look good. But please never wear cologne again.”

Thanos blinked, tilting his head.

“…Why?”

Namgyu grinned, those fucking dimples appearing in his cheeks.

“I like it when you stink.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Thanos felt his whole body grow heavier with desire, his cock jerking in his jeans so hard he nearly lost his breath.

A short pause of tension hung between them, neither saying a word. Then the racing jacket hit the floor with a dull thud. Thanos pushed up onto his knees, grabbed the hem of his black mock turtleneck, and pulled it over his head. At the same time, Namgyu was wrestling with his zipper, muttering something under his breath. Finally, the metal teeth gave way, and with heat pooling low in his stomach, Thanos brushed his hands aside to slide the jeans down himself.

Namgyu glanced down… and immediately burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle it. Thanos followed his gaze, and that’s when it hit him what he was wearing.

His underwear.

Blue. Covered in miniature Spongebobs, each in a different pose and a completely ridiculous outfit. Fuck. He’d totally not thought this through. He’d focused so much on making sure the rest of the outfit was a solid 10/10 that he’d completely ignored what was underneath. Oh well, at least Namgyu’s laughter was ridiculously cute. Soft, a little nasal, slightly goofy. Every chuckle only wound the tension in his gut tighter.

His erection strained against the fabric, mercilessly warping the cartoon sponges into grotesque, stretched-out grins. Namgyu’s gaze traveled down his body slowly, as if savoring every inch. Shoulders, chest, the dark lines of tattoos, down to the obvious bulge in those stupid boxers. The laughter faded, replaced by a look balanced somewhere between amusement and pure hunger. Still smiling, he reached out and cupped him through the fabric. The grip was firm but not too tight – just enough for Thanos to feel the pressure building inside him. Air slipped from his lungs in a short, uneven inhale.

Namgyu pushed himself up onto his elbows and hooked a finger under the waistband.

“You’re such an idiot…” he whispered, sliding the boxers down his hips.

Thanos shed the last piece of clothing. His cock was stuck to his lower abdomen, just above the word POWER inked in a gothic, jagged font, arched downward. But that wasn’t where Namgyu’s eyes stopped, and Thanos couldn’t blame him, because his dick – pretty damn big, by the way – was adorned with several piercings underneath, forming a pattern like a ladder. It looked fucking incredible, and almost every bitch he’d been with had practically pissed themselves at the sight.

Apparently Namgyu was no exception. His wide pupils clung to the silver beads like Minsu to benzos.

“You like?” Thanos asked with a burning smile, wrapping his hand around his throbbing length. With his thumb, he slid over the tip, gathering the sticky fluid that stretched between his fingers like a thin, translucent thread.

Namgyu nodded so eagerly that his black hair stuck to his face again. He grabbed Thanos by the hips, trying to pull him closer, like every inch of distance from his cock was some kind of punishment. He licked his lips, and Thanos watched that motion like he was in a trance, feeling something in his brain blur, split, and morph into pure thirst. So strong it made his mouth go dry.

He gave in to that raw, urgent need radiating from Namgyu and moved higher along his hot body, feeling the rise of his chest beneath him. Thanos’s fingers sank into his hair, not yanking hard, but enough to feel that familiar resistance and the silky softness that hit his senses like the strongest high. Namgyu tilted his chin up, parting his lips obediently and sticking out his tongue in a way so obscene it could put half of the fucking porn industry to shame.

Thanos planted his knees on either side of Namgyu’s chest, leaning in until his shadow fell over that sweet face, his heavy, heated cock hovering just above the outstretched tongue. Namgyu gripped his hips and tried to lift his head, but the hand tangled in his hair kept him in place. He looked up at Thanos from beneath half-lidded eyes – pleading and deliciously hazy, freckles drowning in a hot flush, lips trembling with tension.

As a reward for that brazen perfection, Thanos tapped the tip of his cock against Namgyu’s tongue, leaving a wet, glistening mark on the twitching muscle. Namgyu’s lashes fluttered and, almost instinctively, he tried to rise again, earning a sharper tug on his dark hair. A low, hungry sound spilled from his throat, more lust than pain, and his hips shifted unconsciously, as if searching for something to grind against. The reaction hit Thanos like a live wire.

“Fuck, baby…” he rasped, his voice rough, control slipping, as he pushed himself between those greedy, parted lips.

Namgyu closed his eyes and hummed in satisfaction, then, without warning, wrapped his mouth around just the tip, sucking gently, as if to taste only a little. Thanos hissed through his teeth, fingers tightening in his hair. The heat and wetness enveloping the most sensitive part of him were almost too much, and the sight of Namgyu’s cheeks hollowing from the suction sent a violent, heavy throb through his gut. He knew that if this went on too long, he’d be done for.

With a reluctant, ragged breath, he pulled out, watching as a thin strand of spit still linked the tip to those swollen, glistening lips.

Fuck.

Namgyu frowned, his hand instantly sliding to Thanos’s thigh, trying to pull him back, mouth chasing the retreating length. Jesus Christ. For a moment, Thanos thought something in him might snap. This was the kind of thing you only saw in cheap pornos. He stroked Namgyu’s hair – a tender, almost loving gesture that clashed with the way he’d just been yanking those same strands.

“Baby…” he murmured, voice thick with arousal, heavy as honey. “My little flower, my angel, Namsu… I really want to fuck you properly tonight, and that’s not gonna happen if I cum down your throat.”

Namgyu blinked. Goddamn. He looked like he might cry, and Thanos had to take a deep breath just to steady himself.

“Just for a bit?” Namgyu asked, soft and needy – the tone he usually used when he wanted something from Thanos. Normally it was for drugs, or for Thanos to come over, buy him cigarettes, or rap for him. Never before had he asked for cock.

And truthfully, Thanos had never been with anyone who begged him for it. Every girl he’d been with took him because he wanted it, not the other way around. And now here was the love of his life looking like he’d be offended if he didn’t feel him deep in his throat right now.

“Please?” Namgyu added, peeking up at him through dark lashes.

Well, fuck. That settled it.

“Alright, but just a little,” Thanos said, shifting closer.

He wrapped his hand around his own throbbing cock, guiding it toward those parted lips. This time, when he slid in, it was deeper than before, and he felt the cool beads of his piercing graze Namgyu’s heated tongue. Each touch was like a sharp electric crack snapping through his gut and racing all the way to the roots of his hair, leaving him shaky and starving for more.

Namgyu twitched as if the same current had shot through him, and let out a deep, low hum of satisfaction – like he was the one getting head. His fingers dug into Thanos’s moving thighs, and his throat opened in a slow, inviting gesture, as if he wanted to pull him all the way in. Swallow him whole.

Thanos moaned as a thick wave of heat wrapped around him, drawing him deeper. With each push, he could feel Namgyu’s throat molding to him, muscles quivering around the intrusion, breath spilling from his lungs in short, urgent bursts.

Thanos gripped the back of Namgyu’s head and pressed him closer, setting a lazy, deliberate rhythm – gentle, but growing more insistent. With every movement, the air between them filled with muffled, wet sounds of pleasure, and Namgyu’s glazed, drugged eyes locked on him like Thanos was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth. And he acted like it too. His tongue danced eagerly, tracing along the ridge of skin between the beads, pausing to toy with each one as if he wanted to count them, warm them, memorize their shape and taste, burn them into himself forever.

It was driving Thanos insane.

Why the fuck was Namgyu this good at it? Thanos didn’t even want to think about it. Not now, when every pull of those soft, hot lips hit him like a pure shot of heroin. Namgyu’s nails dug crescents into his thighs, holding him as if terrified he’d pull away even for a second. Wet streaks of spit clung to the corners of his mouth and ran down his chin, his eyes shining with tears. Every time Thanos pushed deeper, pressing the tip against his throat, a muffled, broken sound spilled out – half a sob, half a moan – and it slammed into Thanos like a violent wave of want, hard enough to make his ears ring.

Namgyu’s hips moved on their own, instinctively, as if his body was trying to match the pace Thanos set. With each thrust, his shiver grew, the muscles of his stomach tightening in waves, like something hot and dangerous was building inside him. His fingers, still clutching Thanos’s thighs, kept sliding toward the base, as though trying to drag him even deeper. His breath broke in short, desperate snatches through his nose, each inhale ending in a soft, vibrating sigh.

He was completely gone. There was the same hazy, helpless look in his eyes Thanos had only ever seen when he was dangerously high. His tongue was moving more chaotically now, less precise, less thought-out, searching for sensitive spots and lingering on them, clinging longer. In that messy tangle of heat, wetness, and trembling, Namgyu was losing the last bits of finesse, his throat squeezing down around him involuntarily with every teary sound. Tears started to slip from his eyes, at first just drops, then thin streams running down flushed cheeks.

He looked fucking perfect. Like some kind of filthy dream.

“Just like that,” Thanos rasped, swiping his thumb under Namgyu’s right eye, smearing away the wet track. “You like that?”

Namgyu answered with a low, needy hum, the vibration rolling through the cock in his throat and ripping a sharp hiss from Thanos’s teeth, heat flooding his body.

“Of course you do,” Thanos laughed hoarsely, still struggling for breath. “Look at you. So fucking good for me. My good boy.”

Suddenly Namgyu’s whole body jolted, as if something ripped through him from the inside. His grip on Thanos’s thighs tightened hard enough to hurt, nails biting almost to the bone. Tears spilled so profusely it was like he couldn’t see anything past them. His hips gave a few erratic, jerking thrusts, and a broken, choking moan tore out of him, crumbling into a trembling sob.

“Fuck…” The word slipped out of Thanos. He was genuinely caught off guard, disoriented.

Before he let him choke, Thanos pulled back, knowing that if his cock stayed in that heat for even a second longer, he’d lose control himself. Namgyu’s head dropped back against the couch. He was shaking all over, cheeks wet, lips swollen and glossy with spit. His breaths came fast and ragged, his body still twitching with small aftershocks.

Thanos looked at him like he wasn’t even real, a dangerous mix of triumph and something tender tightening in his chest, something heavier than even the hunger clawing at him. He glanced behind to be sure – and yeah, Namgyu had just come from having Thanos’ cock in his throat.

Thanos looked down at his swollen, pulse-throbbing dick like he was seeing it for the first time, then glanced back at Namgyu, who was still trembling. He couldn’t see his face, because the fucker had hidden it in his hands again. All he could hear was soft sobbing, and fuck, if Namgyu always sounded like that when he cried, Thanos was gonna have a serious problem keeping himself in check whenever his boyfriend went through real drama. Especially now, knowing that Namgyu could cry just from coming. And he could come from giving head.

Jesus fuck.

“Wow,” he let out with a small laugh. “You like sucking cock that much?”

Namgyu went silent, though his shoulders kept shaking. A few seconds of stretched-out quiet, and finally he moved his hands from his face. Unfortunately, Thanos didn’t get another chance to admire how fucking pretty he was, because Namgyu’s shoulder blades tensed, and then he shoved both palms into Thanos’s chest, knocking him right off onto the floor. The rapper landed on his side with a short, pained grunt.

“Hey!” he complained, but Namgyu only rolled to the side, burying his face deep into the orange couch cushions. His knees were tucked tight to his torso, the muscles in his back and neck still taut like he was trying to trap inside him the energy that had just been tearing through his body.

Thanos blinked, but he wasn’t about to complain about the view, because Namgyu’s ass was, like the rest of him, perfect. And… oh shit, was that a tramp stamp? That was so fucking a tramp stamp. And the classic kind – cyber-tribal with a heart in the middle. Sexy as hell. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the ink with his fingers, feeling the tiny shivers run up Namgyu’s spine at his touch. Thanos leaned in, kneeling by the couch, and started leaving wet kisses over the tattoo, exploring the black lines with his tongue. Namgyu let out a soft sigh, like he was only just now letting the tension drain away, and turned his head toward him. Thanos lifted his mouth from his skin but kept caressing around the mark with gentle fingertips.

“That was the first time,” Namgyu murmured, voice rough from sobbing.

His face was still damp and slightly flushed, the whites of his eyes red like after a proper bender, though there was something strange in his gaze. Thanos raised a brow.

“If you’re about to tell me that was the first time you’ve ever sucked cock, I’m not buying it,” he said with a grin, still stroking his lower back, because seriously, tramp stamp? “That was probably the best blowjob of my life, deadass.”

Namgyu huffed, but his expression softened slightly, a shadow of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his mouth. Thanos smiled wider.

“No, dumbass,” Namgyu said, giving him a light shove to the forehead. “It was the first time I… came like that.”

For a moment, Thanos just looked at him, the gears in his head grinding in a weird mix of surprise and fascination. Then he felt that familiar, heavy thump low in his gut. Fuck. That was hot as hell. He pushed up onto his knees, sliding his hand along Namgyu’s side – from his hip, up his slim waist, tracing the line of his ribs until he stopped at his neck. With his thumb, he stroked the vein pulsing under the skin, then leaned in to press a hot kiss to his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he rumbled, voice thick with amusement and lust. “So I just have a magic dick?”

Namgyu gave a short smile and mussed his hair. His movements were still heavy and loose from the orgasm.

“We’ll only know for sure once you actually fuck me,” he said, tone playful, though there was something in his voice that made Thanos’s whole body go taut with readiness.

Oh, fuck yes.

He stood, gripped Namgyu’s hips, and in one smooth motion lifted him as if he weighed nothing. Beneath his fingers, he felt the heat radiating from the tattooed, sweat-slick skin. Namgyu giggled, letting himself be set on the right armrest of the couch. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to the cushions, and pushed his hips back toward Thanos like a dream. Thanos just stared for a moment, then gave his left cheek a playful smack, because, fuck it, why not.

“Stop fucking around and just fuck me already,” Namgyu panted impatiently, and seriously, he was acting like he hadn’t just come a minute ago. Completely untouched, by the way.

“Yeah, yeah, princess,” Thanos muttered, running his fingers along the line of the tramp stamp, still glistening from his spit. His hands paused at the small of Namgyu’s back, thumbs pressing lightly into the muscles on either side of his spine, feeling the subtle tremors beneath the skin.

“Don’t call me that,” Namgyu grumbled.

“You don’t like my pet names?” Thanos asked, eyes lingering on his ass. And that’s when he saw it. Holy shit. Namgyu had freckles on his ass. This junkie had freckles on his ass. That was so fucking adorable.

Thanos crouched, gripping his hips tighter, and pressed his lips to the skin. Once, twice, three times – he wasn’t counting, too busy nibbling between each kiss. Each nip sent shivers running down Namgyu’s thighs, drawing out a quiet, trembling sigh.

“No,” Namgyu finally muttered, glancing over his shoulder at him. His nose crinkled with irritation, embarrassment, maybe desperation. Or all three.

“Liar,” Thanos whispered, spreading his cheeks to look at the small opening between. “You clearly liked being called a good boy.”

Namgyu fell silent. His ears darkened, and he turned his head forward again, hiding his face in his arms.

Thanos had never been one of those guys who were into rimming. Sure, he’d seen it in porn, but it always seemed a bit gross. Up until two days ago, he’d also been convinced he wasn’t into dudes at all. Well… until two days ago. Because Namgyu, with that freckled ass, tense thighs, and tramp stamp, was wrecking every boundary in his head.

He brushed his thumb over the sensitive skin right beside the opening, watching the muscles twitch in a small, nervous spasm. Then he leaned in lower, so close he could feel the warmth radiating against his lips. He hesitated for just a second – more for the satisfaction of drawing it out than out of actual doubt – before dragging his tongue slowly along the furrow between Namgyu’s cheeks.

Namgyu sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, his hips jolting, fingers digging so hard into the couch that his knuckles whitened. Thanos felt his own heart kick into overdrive, like he was speeding straight toward a heart attack. Shit, maybe he was the type for this. Or maybe he was just the type for Namgyu.

He licked again, slower this time, more deliberate, staying right at the rim, feeling those tiny involuntary contractions against his mouth. Then again, harder, letting the tip of his tongue press in just enough to hear Namgyu’s breath break into a choked moan. The rapper spread Namgyu’s legs wider, and they trembled again, his hips moving in erratic, uncoordinated motions, as if trying to catch and hold onto every wet flick of Thanos’s tongue.

Thanos teased him like that for a moment longer, savoring every reaction, until he finally pulled back, earning a drawn-out, annoyed gasp from Namgyu. It wasn’t that Thanos didn’t enjoy it, because he really fucking did. But he knew that if his dick didn’t get inside Namgyu right now, he was either going to come just from looking and listening, or actually explode. He had never been this hard in his life, and the fact that he’d been like this for a while now only made it worse. Especially with Namgyu’s moans – so insanely melodic that Thanos was seriously considering sampling them for a track.

“Where’s the lube?” Thanos asked urgently, pressing his thumb against the tight ring of muscle.

“Fuck the lube,” Namgyu panted, his voice rough with tension. “Use spit.”

Thanos frowned and straightened up, resting his hands on the boy’s hips. He hadn’t fucked a guy before, but he’d learned a few things about anal. He knew spit alone wouldn’t cut it, especially against what he was packing. And that wasn’t bragging, just a fact. Seriously.

“Namsu, where’s the lube?”

Namgyu gave him a light kick to the shin, lifting his head. He glanced over his shoulder with irritation and just a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

“I can take it without. Just use spit.”

“I don’t want you to take it. I want you to enjoy it,” Thanos said, his thumbs stroking over his waist.

Namgyu blinked a few times, a faint line forming between his brows. Thanos smiled, then slid his hands over the tattoo, down across his ass, and to the muscles of his thighs, pausing like he was studying them with his fingers.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, softly, before leaning in to press a slow kiss to Namgyu’s hip.

Namgyu swallowed hard and looked away, eyes back on the couch.

“In the bathroom, under the mirror,” he mumbled under his breath.

Thanos was just about to pull away when Namgyu added, practically growling:

“Hurry up.”

“Of course,” Thanos grinned, wide and cocky, then bounced to his feet and jogged toward the bathroom – literally in little hops, like he was going to claim a prize on a game show instead of a tube of lube.

He burst inside, flung open the cabinet under the mirror, and snatched up the bottle like a trophy. On the way back, he didn’t slow for a second, he hopped over their clothes scattered across the floor and landed right by the couch, presenting his prize.

“Aha!” he announced, slightly out of breath. “Ready to take off, baby?”

“Thanos, for fuck’s sake,” Namgyu groaned in that long, needy tone, pushing his hips toward him.

Thanos’s knees went weak, his mouth going dry like he’d just chain-smoked a pack and chased it with vodka.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, trying to sound reassuring, though the strain in his voice made it rougher, rough enough that Namgyu shivered.

He slid the rings off his fingers and tossed them toward the table without looking to see where they landed. He squeezed the tube, cold gel spilling onto his fingers, the chill shocking against his burning skin. Then, with his dry hand, he pressed Namgyu’s spine down into the couch, tipping his hips even higher. Namgyu spread his legs obediently, his breath shallow, like every move Thanos made was pulling the air from his lungs.

Thanos ran his slick fingers along the heated rim between his cheeks, still faintly damp from his spit. He could feel the muscles twitch under his fingertips, and how Namgyu held his breath, waiting.

Finally, he pressed a fingertip to the sensitive opening, watching the way Namgyu’s whole body jerked in a short, instinctive motion, like his muscles wanted to pull him in and keep him out at the same time. Slowly, carefully, Thanos pushed deeper until his finger slid inside. Namgyu let out a quiet sigh, which shifted into a drawn-out, throaty hum that sent a hot, electric shiver down Thanos’s neck.

“Okay?” he checked.

Namgyu nodded.

Thanos sank the finger to the last knuckle, spreading the lube along those tight, pulsing walls. He moved slowly at first, testing each contraction and wave of resistance. Then, with more certainty, he worked a little deeper, a little firmer. Namgyu’s breathing was loud, each inhale catching halfway, his nails digging into the couch fabric. Thanos could feel the tension melting into a warm, eager looseness.

Then he added a second finger. Namgyu hissed through his teeth, his whole body tensing in a sharp, instinctive reaction. Thanos froze, his free hand stroking over the tattoo above his ass, tracing a line of sweat down his spine.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” Namgyu gasped, though his legs trembled like jelly.

“If you’re lying, I’ll be seriously offended,” Thanos warned.

“Fucking hell…” Namgyu cursed, then rocked his hips back himself, trying to pull Thanos in deeper without waiting. Hot as hell, honestly. “Doesn’t hurt. Move, for fuck’s sake… please.”

Thanos slid his hand along his back until he reached the nape of his neck, where he tightened his grip slightly. Namgyu let out a strange, high-pitched sound – something between a mewl and a sigh – and practically melted into the ugly orange fabric of the couch, as if his entire body had just let go all at once. Thanos’ lips curled into a smirk, feeling like some fucking god.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured.

His fingers moved slowly, tracing small circles inside the tight heat. Once he was sure everything was okay, his movements quickened, growing impatient. Each motion drew from Namgyu a short, twitching jolt followed by a soft, helpless release. And then he felt it – under his fingertips, a distinct, firm spot, like a button begging to be pressed. So he pressed.

Namgyu moaned loud and long, his back arching into an obscene curve. Thanos felt goosebumps break out under his hand at the boy’s nape. He pressed harder, and Namgyu grew even louder; his hips moved chaotically, as if he couldn’t decide whether to grind against the couch’s armrest or push harder onto Thanos’ fingers.

A fog clouded Thanos’ mind so thickly that he registered nothing but the heat and tightness around his fingers. All that mattered were Namgyu’s sounds and the pulse of that wet opening that seemed to pull him deeper. His hand slid from the nape upward, fingers tangling in the dark hair before yanking it back, forcing Namgyu’s head up. At the same time, he pushed in a third finger, feeling a brief resistance before the body yielded with a delicious shiver. Namgyu let out a drawn-out ahhh, which quickly broke into a high, breathless whine when Thanos hit the same spot again.

His own breathing grew faster. His fingers moved in short, firm thrusts, almost jerking from the inside, because fuck, he thought he might actually pass out from the sight of Namgyu writhing beneath him. The boy rocked his hips forward and back, desperately chasing the next hit to his prostate, and Thanos, barely holding himself back, leaned down and bit his neck.

“Thanos, Thanos, Thanos…” Namgyu kept repeating his name, pleading. “Please, Thanos. I…”

His voice cracked at the ends, every word dripping with desperation. Thanos could feel the muscles around his fingers trembling, clenching and releasing in that same uncontrollable rhythm. Namgyu tilted his head back as if to offer him everything at once – his neck, his mouth, all of himself.

“You what?” Thanos rasped into his ear, deliberately slowing down for a fraction of a second, just to hear Namgyu whine in disappointment.

“I’m fucking… I want…” the boy slurred, his voice trembling when Thanos drove his fingers straight into his prostate again.

Namgyu sobbed, and Thanos felt it all the way down his spine. The tremor that ran through the boy’s body was like a wave – it started in his hips, spread through his stomach, and reached his shoulders, until his fingers on the couch’s backrest suddenly straightened.

Finally, Thanos pulled his knuckles free, feeling the hot, wet insides trying to draw him back in.

Holy fuck.

Namgyu let out a short, broken sound somewhere between a breathless moan and a quiet sob.

“N-no…” he barely managed to whisper, legs trembling, breath ragged, as if someone had suddenly stolen the air from his lungs.

Thanos smirked to himself, even though his own body was screaming for relief. His hands slid along Namgyu’s hips, gripping tightly as he turned him so they were finally face-to-face. Namgyu’s pupils were blown and glossy, his cheeks flushed, and saliva glistened at the corners of his mouth. Fuck, he looked so good that Thanos wanted to devour him in one bite.

He sat back on the couch, leaning comfortably, and pulled Namgyu toward him. The boy braced his hands lightly on Thanos’ thighs at first, as if trying to catch his breath, but Thanos wasn’t about to give him time. He grabbed his waist, nails digging into the firm flesh of his ass, and lifted him, positioning him over his cock, which throbbed, ready to push in.

“Come on, kitten,” he whispered.

Namgyu didn’t answer. He just grabbed his cock and dropped onto him in one decisive motion, without a shred of caution. The wet, stretched heat swallowed him to the base. Thanos felt his whole chest seize from the mix of shock and pleasure. The piercing dragged along sensitive walls in a way that made them both spill loud, raw sounds – Namgyu half a cry, Thanos something between a growl and a moan.

Namgyu threw his head back, fingers clamping down on Thanos’s shoulders so hard the rapper’s skin blanched, and he started moving right away, fast, hips slamming against his thighs with a wet slap that echoed through the apartment. Thanos stared in total disbelief – at the tight flex of his abs, the parted lips, the eyes narrowed from strain and pleasure, the hair bouncing, the tattoos rippling with every movement. Every drop down was like a lightning strike.

“Fuck…” Thanos moaned, his hands gripping the boy’s hips, trying to slow him down, but Namgyu only sped up.

He moved chaotically, desperately, like he was searching for the spot that would shatter him to pieces. The dried smears of cum on his stomach caught Thanos’s gaze, hitting him with another wave of pure, stupid adoration. He was utterly gone for him, so stupidly, hopelessly gone that for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

The couch beneath them creaked dangerously, the squeak syncing to the rhythm of their fucking, but neither of them gave a shit. Thanos wasn’t even sure the thing would survive, and honestly, he didn’t give a damn. The couch was ugly as hell, smelled even worse, and Namgyu wouldn’t need it once he moved in. Because he would move in. And then Thanos was going to fucking marry him, and he couldn’t care less that it was illegal in Korea.

“Thanos…” Namgyu sobbed out, pleading, looking at him so devastatingly that the rapper just grabbed him harder and drove into him with a force meant to wipe everything from Namgyu’s mind except his name.

Thanos leaned in and took his right nipple into his mouth. He traced it with his tongue, then bit down lightly. Namgyu let out a guttural sound, clenching hard around him and digging his nails into his head. Thanos only pulled back so he could watch his boy fall apart, watch Namgyu’s tattooed thighs tremble uncontrollably, hear the sounds in his throat break into ragged sobs, see his breath catch in short, desperate gasps. Tears started streaming down those freckled cheeks; apparently, Namgyu was crying from pleasure, and Thanos couldn’t get enough of that knowledge.

Thanos’s hips began to work in counterpoint, driving into him with such force that Namgyu started losing the rhythm of his own movements. His body still tried to bounce on the rapper’s thighs, but every attempt was caught, adjusted, and driven into the tempo Thanos had set – slow, deep, crushing him from the inside. Thanos slid his hands lower, gripping Namgyu’s ass in a bruising hold, lifting and dropping him so that every movement ended exactly where he wanted.

“You’re so fucking…” he panted, each word broken by harsh breaths. “Incredible.”

Namgyu’s lashes fluttered sharply, and his inner muscles clamped down on him so hard Thanos hissed through his teeth. A short, fractured moan spilled from Namgyu’s throat, his fingers tangling desperately in the rapper’s hair.

“You like that?” Thanos whispered once he caught his breath and began to move faster. His voice was rough, heat-laced. “When I praise you? When I tell you how sweet you are? How gorgeous? Perfect?”

Namgyu’s cock twitched violently between them, flushed and slick at the tip from pent-up arousal. Every harder thrust from Thanos squeezed another drop from him, sliding down his stomach.

“My good boy. My Namsu.”

Namgyu didn’t answer with words – he just grabbed Thanos by the nape and dragged him into a messy, wet kiss, all moans and spit. They panted into each other’s mouths, too lost in the moment to bother with proper movement. Namgyu’s hips yielded to every thrust, Thanos driving into him mercilessly, again and again hitting the same spot, feeling each strike to his prostate ripple tension all the way through the boy’s body, down to his curled toes.

Thanos wrapped his hand around Namgyu’s cock, stroking slowly, gathering the growing slickness. He could feel the tension in Namgyu building, rolling up his spine to the back of his neck. His breathing grew shallow and ragged, his abs tightening under Thanos’ gaze. Namgyu squeezed his eyes shut, fingers lacing in Thanos’ hair and yanking so hard his scalp burned. His cock pulsed in Thanos’ grip, his back arching as if trying to escape the overload. He was close – Thanos could see it in every twitch, hear it in every broken, drawn-out sound spilling from his lips.

Thanos shifted his grip, one hand dragging Namgyu tighter against him, the other keeping steady strokes on his cock. His hips slammed up with such force that the couch beneath them groaned and dipped under the strain. It didn’t matter, not to him, and definitely not to Namgyu, whose cheeks were streaked with fresh tears mixing with salty sweat and spit. His lips only parted to let out fractured whines and sobs.

And then he broke. With a drawn-out cry, Namgyu came hard, his body wracked with spasms that lasted long, aching seconds. Hot, sticky release spattered over their stomachs, and his inner muscles clenched around Thanos so tight it almost hurt, pressing against every ball of his piercing. Thanos didn’t let up, still driving into him without mercy, hitting that exact spot every time.

When it was over, Namgyu slumped heavily against him, like all the strength had been ripped out of him, but Thanos didn’t even consider slowing. If anything, something inside his chest swelled at the sight of this sweaty, trembling boy clinging to him like the last anchor in the world. He felt every tiny aftershock inside him, every wave of oversensitivity that made Namgyu shiver and sob into his neck.

Namgyu’s hands roamed clumsily over his nape, clutching tighter, then looser, as if he were fighting to stay present.

With a sharp breath, Thanos grabbed his thighs and tore him off in one smooth motion. He flipped them, slamming Namgyu back against the couch until it groaned in protest. A muffled, startled cry tore from Namgyu’s throat, but before he could breathe in, Thanos drove into him in one brutal, deep stroke, the cushions sinking under their weight.

“So good for me,” he panted, leaning so close their breaths mingled in a hot, damp haze. “Namsu… Namgyu…”

He thrust into him with a force that turned every breath Namgyu took into a shaking, stuttered mewl. He felt the boy’s body shiver under the onslaught, felt his legs lock around his waist, his nails dragging across his back, leaving red streaks before grabbing at the couch for something, anything, solid.

Namgyu was completely pliant now, laid out in front of him like a gift. Beautiful, breathtaking, so intoxicating Thanos thought it might actually kill him. His hips drove harder and faster, every clench of the boy’s pulsing heat pulling him deeper, ripping rough, broken whines from his throat. He felt the heat tightening around him, the slickness clinging more and more, the tension in his gut coiling with no escape. His fingers dug into Namgyu’s flesh so hard his knuckles went white, sweat stinging his eyes as his heart pounded wildly. Every sob, every tremor beneath him shoved him closer to the edge.

“Subong…” Namgyu gasped, voice wet with tears and pleasure.

The sound of his real name tore Thanos open from the inside. In an instant, everything but them and this wrecked couch vanished. The tension snapped inside him with such force that the world went dark at the edges, his pulse roaring in his ears. He buried himself in Namgyu like he wanted to fuse with him forever. A low, drawn-out moan tore free, his body shaking as the heat surged through him, wringing every last drop of breath from his lungs. Each uncontrolled thrust after only twisted him tighter, and in his head there was only one thing – Namgyu, Namgyu, Namgyu – and the unshakable certainty that no one else had ever been, or would ever be, this fucking good.

He collapsed onto Namgyu with his full weight, not giving a single fuck that he was bigger and his friend’s – no, wait, his boyfriend’s – ribs were probably creaking under the pressure. Not that Namgyu complained. Or maybe he just didn’t have the strength to. Thanos could still feel the tremors running through the body beneath him, even though his own had long since stilled. Even when he finally slid out of the boy, letting his cum spill out onto the couch. The thing was ready for the trash anyway. He could feel the spot where it had caved under their combined weight.

He pressed his face into the crook where Namgyu’s neck met his shoulder. Couldn’t help himself, he bit the tender skin there, then dragged his tongue over the fresh teeth marks, tasting the salt of his sweat. The only response from Namgyu was a tilt of his head, giving him easier access. Thanos knew he’d have to get up at some point, stop crushing the man under him. They’d probably have to wash up, they were both sticky with sweat and cum. But right now? He couldn’t be bothered. Right now he just wanted to savor the press of overheated skin against skin, the way their breathing had synced so perfectly that when Namgyu’s chest rose beneath him on an exhale, his own sank with an inhale. We fit together like some fucking puzzle pieces, he thought. Like coke to the nose and a pill to the tongue. He also thought that now, more than ever, there was no fucking way he’d ever even think about screwing anyone else. Namgyu was stuck with him for life, and Thanos couldn’t give less of a shit about his opinion on the matter. Shouldn’t have been that good at sucking dick.

“Hey, Namsu,” he started, figuring he should probably say something.

“Mmm?” came the muffled hum from below.

“High five!” Thanos pushed himself up just enough to shove a hand in front of Namgyu’s face.

He felt the body beneath him shake with laughter.

“Jesus fuck, that’s so cringe.”

“Quit bitching and give me a high five. That was the best fuck of my life, kitten. Gotta seal the deal somehow.”

Namgyu was still laughing, but obediently pressed his palm to Thanos’s, and Thanos laced their fingers together. Those fit perfectly too.

“You’re not gonna tell me it was the best fuck of your life too?” he asked, not sounding entirely sure.

“Fuck, of course it was. Can’t compare it to some random hookups off Grindr.”

Thanos grinned wide. He planted his elbows on either side of Namgyu’s head, looking down at him. Tear streaks drying on his flushed cheeks, stray strands of hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. Thanos knew he was repeating himself, but holy fuck, he was beautiful. No idea what the hell he’d done to deserve someone like Namgyu.

“Tell me more about how fucking amazing I am,” he asked.

“Fuck off.” Namgyu tried to turn his red face away, but there wasn’t much room to move.

“Tell me how good it felt to have my cock inside you.”

“Jesus, Thanos. Don’t make me say shit like that out loud.”

Thanos barked a laugh. Namgyu was so fucking cute when he was flustered.

“All right, princess. Time to take a bath.”

The couch let out the sound of a dying animal as Thanos got up. He reached for Namgyu, fully intending to carry him bridal style to the shower.

“I can walk, you know,” Namgyu said, but without much conviction. His body told a different story, melting against Thanos’s chest.

“If that’s true, then I clearly didn’t fuck you hard enough.”

Namgyu rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a smile at the memory that, in fact, Thanos had fucked him hard enough. Once in the rapper’s arms, he glanced over his shoulder and said:

“Oh fuck. We wrecked the couch.”

Right in the middle of the thing was a deep dent, like a giant with a massive ass had just sat on it.

“Don’t worry, Namsu. You won’t be needing it anymore,” Thanos said as they reached the bathroom. He set the boy gently under the shower, then stepped in beside him. “Starting tomorrow, you’re moving in with me.”

“Seriously?” Namgyu straightened to meet his eyes. “You mean it? You’re not fucking with me?”

“I’ll lose my damn mind if I can’t have you next to me every day.”

Namgyu looked like a kid on Christmas morning who’d just gotten the exact toy they’d been begging for. His eyes lit up like he’d just done a kilo of coke in one go. He bounced on his feet a few times, like he sometimes did when he was excited.

“Holy fuck, that’s amazing. I’ve wanted us to live together for so long.”

“Me too. I just kept forgetting to ask you.”

Their mouths met. This kiss was different from all the others – slow, tender, stripped of the addict’s hunger they’d had before, like someone stumbling across a miracle stash at the bottom of a drawer. Thanos turned the shower on. The water was freezing, looked like the hot water had been cut off again, or maybe Namgyu hadn’t paid his bills. But it felt good against their overheated skin.

Namgyu let Thanos wash him from head to toe, standing still while the rapper took his time exploring every inch of his body this way. Surprisingly, he wasn’t turned on anymore, whatever the fuck had just happened on that couch was enough to last him the whole night. With the haze of sex fading, he could really look at Namgyu’s body, admire it like it was some priceless piece in a gallery. As he lathered him up, he kept finding new details – acne along his back, a mole on his chest, an old scar under his knee, countless tattoos that had been hidden until now. It pissed him off that he couldn’t memorize every single thing right here and now, but he knew he’d have all the time in the world for that.

They dried off with Namgyu’s towel, and then Thanos slung him over his shoulder to carry him back to the room, which still reeked of sex. They picked up the clothes scattered across the floor, and Thanos felt a pang of disappointment as Namgyu’s body disappeared under the fabric, but after that icy shower, the chill was setting in. If he caught a cold from it, Thanos would never forgive himself.

“Namsu, you want something to eat?” he offered. He didn’t feel particularly hungry himself, though he couldn’t remember his last proper meal. Still, he had this strong sense that he should take special care of Namgyu now, care that didn’t end with a shared shower. Show him it wasn’t just about fucking. Right now, he should get him some food and some drugs – satisfy two basic human needs. Aftercare, that’s what it was called.

“Hmmm.” Namgyu made himself comfortable on the floor, given that the couch was sagging and covered in dried white stains. “Depends. Are you planning to cook or order something? If it’s the first one, no thanks, I’ll pass. If it’s the second, I’d kill for chicken with rice.”

Thanos felt a sting of embarrassment at the memory of the scrambled egg incident. He was really going to have to take some damn cooking course so Namgyu would stop bringing that up. He was just about to dial the local Chinese place when he remembered he was still completely broke. Like, totally. Some random homeless guy on the street probably had more in his paper cup than Thanos had in his bank account right now. He froze with the phone in his hand, unsure what to do. It was looking like he’d have to rob the Chinese place. He’d grab a knife from Namgyu’s kitchen and run in waving it around, threatening to kill everyone if they didn’t hand over chicken with rice for free.

“Bro, I can pay,” Namgyu said, apparently reading exactly what was going through Thanos’s mind from his face.

“No fucking way,” Thanos shook his head.

“I’m not a woman, you know that? You don’t always have to be the one to pay. We can take turns. That’s how it works when it’s two guys.”

“No fucking way,” he repeated, though with less conviction this time.

“Thanos…” Namgyu crawled across the floor on all fours to where Thanos was sitting and rested his chin on his shoulder. “Let me do something for you too. I’ll order us food.”

With a sigh, Thanos handed him the phone.

“Fine. You sort the food, I’ll sort us a geeb.”

“Good deal,” Namgyu nodded in agreement before dialing the restaurant’s number. Thanos, in the meantime, headed to the kitchen to hunt for a pot and a bottle.

It wasn’t until they were already baked that it fully hit Thanos – he had fucked Namgyu sober. He had told him he loved him sober. The three joints he’d smoked before the concert had long since worn off. Maybe half a tab of acid was still lingering somewhere in his system, but it wasn’t enough to feel drugged, especially after this much time. And somehow, for those few hours, he’d barely thought about getting high at all. It was like Namgyu was a drug himself, so potent he replaced all the others. Not for long, of course. Thanos still loved to get high, and the second he tasted the weed in his mouth, a wave of happiness slammed into him so hard he thought for a moment he might burst out in manic laughter.

The food arrived at the perfect time, right after they’d both taken two bucket bongs each. Only then did Thanos realize he was starving as fuck. He inhaled his portion so fast he nearly choked on it. And when he looked at Namgyu afterward, he saw the boy poking at pieces of chicken with his chopsticks, wearing a face like he was gathering the courage to say something. Thanos knew that expression well – the furrowed brows, the teeth biting into the lower lip.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I’m sorry for walking out of the concert. That was a seriously shitty move.” Namgyu leaned forward so his hair fell into his face, hiding it from Thanos’s view.

“Shitty-ass shitty shit,” the rapper agreed. He still felt a little pang deep in his chest when he thought about Namgyu pushing his way through the crowd while Thanos was trying to confess his love to him. But since the boy had told him he thought the song was about someone else, Thanos understood his side of it. If the roles were reversed, and he thought Namgyu was in love with someone else, he’d probably have pulled the same kind of stunt. Or worse.

“But it’s okay now, my boy,” he added, not wanting Namgyu to beat himself up over it. What was done was done, time to move forward.

“Thanos…” Namgyu lifted his head, his eyes finding Thanos’s. “Could you… sing me that song again?”

“Of course,” he replied, trying to keep his face from showing how much that request thrilled him. “But on one condition. You have to keep your eyes on mine the whole time. Small punishment for the fact that I couldn’t get you to look at me when I rapped it live. If you look away, I’m stopping. For real.”

Namgyu nodded eagerly. Thanos cleared his throat, then played the beat from his phone. He grabbed an empty Coke can to use as a microphone and locked his gaze on Namgyu, who was trying his best to keep the promise. Thanos saw how, in those especially emotional parts of the song, he fought with himself not to look away out of shyness. But he held on till the end, and the second Thanos’s lips stopped moving, Namgyu pressed his mouth to his, more hungrily than to either of the geebs they’d just smoked. Thanos’s hands found the curve of his hips, then slid up along his spine to his neck.

And then it hit him like a freight train – this was what their life was going to be like now. Not that they hadn’t been practically glued together before, but it wasn’t the same. Sure, they’d hugged all the time, sure, they’d slept together here and there, but that wasn’t the same as making out or fucking. A lot was going to change, but at the same time, nothing at all. They’d still be themselves, the same ridiculously good-looking druggie power duo. Hell, maybe Semi had been right, maybe Thanos had been in love with Namgyu a lot longer than he thought.

“Thanos… fuck… I still can’t believe you really wrote that about me. That’s your best track.”

“I know.” He puffed his chest out proudly. “And it’s all thanks to you, my boy.”

“You have to record it and release it.”

Thanos assured him that was the plan. Then he kissed him again. And again, because why the fuck not.

“Thanos…” Namgyu spoke between kisses. “Fuck, I totally forgot I was supposed to work all night tonight. I just bailed. Inho’s gonna fire my ass for sure.”

“No fucking way. He can’t fire you, he’s not gonna find another employee that cute. And even if he does, I’ll support us. I’m gonna make a shit ton of money off this new track, I can feel it. It’s gonna be a real hit. Then you can quit that fuckass job and be my housewife.”

Namgyu snorted with laughter. He probably thought Thanos was joking, but he was dead serious.

“Also, just to remind you, tomorrow morning you call your landlord and tell him you’re getting the fuck out of here. And the couch goes straight to the dumpster.”

“The guy’s gonna be pissed.”

“Fuck him, let him be pissed.”

Namgyu laughed again. Thanos noticed that ever since they’d fucked, Namgyu had practically been grinning non-stop. Apparently, a dick up the ass was a great cure for having a stick up it. Thanos thought about all those times Namgyu had his edgy moods and regretted not figuring out sooner how to fix them. But then again, better late than never.

Namgyu dug out some sweatpants from his closet so they could ditch their club clothes for something more comfortable. They flopped down on his mattress and fired up Namgyu’s laptop, a miracle of engineering held together by duct tape and sheer willpower. It had to stay plugged in at all times, took at least five minutes to boot, and whined so loudly it sometimes drowned out the dialogue in movies. Thanos promised himself that as soon as he had the cash, he’d get them a decent laptop, preferably one powerful enough to run every game they’d ever wanted to play.

They argued for a bit over what movie to watch. Thanos didn’t trust Namgyu’s taste for shit after the time he’d put on The Human Centipede while they were on acid, which gave Thanos the second bad trip of his life. He still had nightmares. Namgyu, on the other hand, thought Thanos’s cartoons were childish. If there wasn’t blood spraying and guts flying, it was boring to him. So fucking edgy. They finally settled on the first Avengers as a compromise, though Namgyu pouted, insisting he was only agreeing because it was better than SpongeBob, but really he’d rather watch something else. Not that it mattered, because within the first fifteen minutes he was curled up in a ball, softly snoring. Thanos didn’t even mind because Namgyu looked ridiculously cute. He watched the whole thing alone, because seriously, how the fuck could you turn off a Marvel movie halfway through? That kind of thing should be a criminal offense. When it ended, he closed the laptop, turned the lights off, and pulled himself against Namgyu’s back. He breathed in the boy’s scent with the same hunger he’d put into snorting a line of coke. As he drifted off, Thanos thought that for someone who’d spent his whole life convinced love was just not his thing, being in love wasn’t actually that bad.

Thanos watched as Namgyu handed a couple of girls at the bar their brightly colored drinks, then took their payment. He loved watching the muscles in his boyfriend’s forearms tighten as he mixed cocktails, and the way he pasted on that fake smile for customers, even though Thanos knew damn well that in his head he was tearing them all to shreds. “That slut’s lipstick was so bright it nearly blinded me,” he’d probably whisper in Thanos’s ear if the rapper were behind the bar with him instead of sitting at a table across the room, staring at him like a lovesick idiot. Thanos had even asked Inho if he could get a job at Pentagon too, but only during Namgyu’s shifts, so they wouldn’t have to be apart. The bastard said no, and Thanos was starting to suspect he was homophobic.

As soon as the chick with bright lipstick and her friend walked away, Namgyu’s eyes flicked straight to Thanos, who blew him a kiss. Namgyu pretended to catch it midair and stick it to his ass.

“You two are disgusting,” Semi muttered, glued to her seventh drink of the night. Thanos had strong-armed Namgyu into giving her the employee discount because otherwise, at this pace, she’d have gone bankrupt within a few hours.

“You only say that because you’re jealous,” he shot back, earning an eye-roll from her. “We just need to find you some bitch. And him too. Then we can all be disgusting together.” He jabbed a finger toward Minsu, who was mindlessly staring at the melting ice cubes in his mojito. Thanos wasn’t even sure if Minsu liked women, men, or both. The guy spoke so little it was impossible to get anything out of him.

Thanos had invited them here mostly so they could keep him company while he ogled Namgyu. And, obviously, to flex about having such a perfect boyfriend. Ever since they’d gotten together two weeks ago, he hadn’t been able to think or talk about anything else.

“Did I tell you how fucking amazing Namgyu is at sucking cock?”

“About six hundred times, which is six hundred more than I ever wanted to hear,” Semi replied, draining her drink. Weirdly enough, she didn’t even look that drunk. Strong contender, this one.

“I’ll get you another!” he said, snatching her glass and practically skipping toward the bar.

“I missed you, kitten,” he murmured, leaning on the counter and stretching toward Namgyu, who gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Missed you too, holy fuck. If I can sneak away for a bit, we should hit that big bathroom in the back.”

Namgyu gave him a knowing wink, and Thanos felt something twitch in his pants. Locking themselves in the bathroom together meant one of two things – either doing drugs or fucking. Best-case scenario? Both at once. He ordered a Sex on the Beach for Semi, and when Namgyu handed him the glass, he pulled him close again. His boyfriend had been unsure at first about public displays of affection. He worried Thanos would wreck his reputation. After all, Pentagon was full of his fans. But the rapper assured him he couldn’t care less. If someone had a problem with two guys dating, they didn’t deserve to call themselves his fan anyway. They were out of the Thanos world.

“You should try going out with someone who’s got a dick,” he said as he set Semi’s drink down on the table. “I spent years thinking it wasn’t for me, but the second I decided to broaden my horizons, I found the love of my life.”

“You sound like a fucking homophobe.”

“Ha! You can’t call me that anymore.”

“Fucking faggot.” Semi rolled her eyes and sucked on her straw, but the corners of her mouth twitched in a smile.

“And who’s the fucking homophobe now?”

Thanos remembered Minsu existed and glanced over at him. The guy hadn’t moved an inch since the last time Thanos looked his way, but he gave a nervous laugh at the argument between Thanos and Semi, proof he’d been listening in. As usual, Thanos felt an irresistible urge to pull him into the conversation.

“Minsu,” he began, leaning so close their foreheads nearly touched. “You love hearing my stories about Namgyu, right? You’re a good buddy, not like this bitch here.”

Minsu nodded quickly, still keeping his eyes down. What a weirdo. Thanos could never figure him out.

“Leave him alone,” Semi said, shoving Thanos’s arm to push him away from Minsu.

Thanos dropped heavily back into his seat, his eyes wandering toward the bar again. He managed not to look at Namgyu for a whole minute, probably a new record. His boyfriend was serving two customers who’d just come in. The guy was bald, tall, and skinny as a pole, with amateur tattoos snaking up his arms. The girl clinging to him was inked as well, with hair tips dyed a glaring shade of red. She looked weirdly familiar. Probably just a regular here, but Thanos couldn’t shake the feeling he was supposed to remember where he knew her from. An ex? Maybe he’d fucked her once and then ghosted her.

It wasn’t until the girl stepped away from the bar and faced Thanos that the realization smacked him in the face. She was the chick from the vision he’d had when he and Namgyu were on speed. The moment Thanos realized he was in love with his best friend. She’d been the one to tell him. She was the reason he’d wanted to quit drugs for Namgyu. She was the reason he’d finally opened his eyes. He had to thank her for that.

The redhead met his gaze, and from the look on her face, Thanos could tell she recognized him too. A rush of memories hit him. He remembered her saying she’d dumped some guy because he’d gotten her into drugs. It looked like she’d already found herself someone new.

“One moment,” he said to Semi and Minsu, getting up from the table.

“Oh, it’s you,” the girl said when he caught up to her.

Thanos noticed the guy holding her pulled her closer, like he wanted to make it crystal clear she was taken. As if Thanos gave a shit. As if he wasn’t already taken himself.

“Señorita,” he said, reaching out to hug her, but thought better of it when he caught the guy’s glare. “I owe you a massive fucking thank-you. For helping me realize the love of my life was right under my nose.”

She blinked, like she was trying to remember the conversation they’d had two weeks ago.

“So I take it you got together with the person you were talking about. The one you cared about.”

“Yup.” He puffed his chest out proudly. “And it didn’t even require quitting drugs. We get high together all the time. It’s fucking great.”

The redhead’s expression twisted into something weird, like he’d just caught her stuffing unpaid groceries into her purse.

“I see you’re doing well too,” he said, nodding at the guy hanging off her, still giving Thanos that suspicious look.

“You know what… actually, I should thank you too. Talking to you made me realize I really still loved Minho, uh, my ex. Your take on drugs really made me think maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all. Maybe love is more important. Even if you’re neck-deep in shit, at least you’re in it together. I’d rather that than be alone and always pining after someone I can get back so easily.”

“Fuck yeah!” Thanos held his hand up for a high-five, which she returned with a laugh. Only then did he notice her pupils were huge and she looked properly high. Hilarious.

“This is the guy you told me about,” Minho said. It looked like he’d only just put two and two together. Not that Thanos blamed him, the guy seemed even more out of it than his girlfriend.

“Thanos,” he introduced himself, shaking Minho’s hand. The guy even smiled to him once he realized it wasn’t some attempt to steal his girl.

“Now I’ve gotta introduce you to my boyfriend,” he told the redhead, and before she could react, he was already dragging her toward the bar. The whole time they’d been talking, Thanos could feel Namgyu’s dagger-sharp stare on his back, probably imagining his boyfriend was trying to hit on the girl, even though she was clearly taken.

“Namsu!” Thanos took a running start and vaulted over the bar like it was a pommel horse, nearly crashing into the shelves of liquor bottles. “This is the chick from Pentagon who told me I was in love with you.”

A few days ago, Thanos had told Namgyu how he’d figured out he felt more than friendship for him. Namgyu had always claimed the redhead must’ve been some hallucination, a voice in Thanos’s head that, for some bizarre reason, manifested as a hot girl. Well, fuck him sideways – she was real, and she was standing right there. Thanos wrapped an arm around his boyfriend in a very clear he’s mine gesture. 

“This is my boyfriend, Namsu. Namsu, meet, uh…” Only then did Thanos realize he had no fucking idea what the girl’s name was.

“Jiyun,” she supplied. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Namgyu,” Namgyu said, giving her a guarded look. Thanos grabbed his hand and extended it toward her, whispering in his ear, “Be nice.”

Jiyun hesitantly shook the hand shoved in her face.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I wasn’t expecting you to be, well… Back when we met, I totally thought you were hitting on me. So I just assumed the person you were talking about was a woman and…”

“You got a problem with that?” Thanos cut in, ready to knock her on her ass if she said the wrong thing. Not that he normally hit women, he wasn’t an asshole like his old man.

“Absolutely not,” Jiyun said quickly, raising her hands in defense. “I didn’t mean it to come out wrong, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be gay.”

Thanos paused, thinking. Truth was, he’d never labeled himself that way in his head. Maybe he should? Maybe he should buy them a rainbow flag and hang it over the bed, start going to Pride, listening to Lady Gaga? Make some kind of official coming out? Something to think about, and talk over with Namgyu.

“Me neither,” he said honestly.

Jiyun nodded like she totally got it. Minho appeared behind her and nodded at Namgyu. The guy was absolutely blasted, but he seemed to catch that introductions had been made.

“Well, uh… I guess I’ll see you around,” Jiyun said, waving at Thanos and Namgyu before dragging Minho to an empty table. Out of the corner of his eye, Thanos saw Semi and Minsu watching with puzzled expressions.

“Told you she was real,” he said, turning to Namgyu and cupping his face in both hands.

“She was pretty cute. You sure you don’t wanna try stealing her?” Namgyu said lightly, though Thanos could tell it was only half a joke.

“If you want, we can go to the bathroom and I’ll show you just how much I don’t wanna steal her. I want only you, kitten.” He leaned in and bit Namgyu’s neck just below the ear.

“Get a room, for fuck’s sake.”

Both of them jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice. She’d suddenly materialized on the other side of the bar, empty glass in hand.

“Namgyu, before you two go fuck in the bathroom, make me a kamikaze.”

Namgyu snatched the glass from her with an annoyed gesture, his face making it very clear what he thought about being interrupted. Still, he made the drink without charging her, either because he was being nice or because he didn’t want to waste any more time before grabbing Thanos’s hand and leading him to the back of the club, to the big bathroom where they could get some semblance of privacy. As soon as the door shut, they went at each other so hard their teeth clacked. 

“Thanos…” Namgyu gasped between kisses. “Earlier, you introduced me as your boyfriend.”

“Because you are,” Thanos said, blinking in confusion. What the fuck was he on about now?

“You never actually asked me, you know, officially. I wasn’t sure if you really saw it that way and…”

“Namgyu,” Thanos said, struggling not to burst out laughing. “I told you I love you, that you’re the love of my life. I’ve been saying it every day for two weeks, we live together, and we fuck like rabbits, and you weren’t sure we were a couple because I didn’t ask? Why the fuck would I need to ask? Isn’t it obvious we both want this?”

Namgyu opened his mouth to defend himself, but Thanos covered it with his hand. He didn’t want to waste another second on pointless bullshit.

“I love you, princess,” he said, sliding his other hand to the buckle of Namgyu’s belt. With one quick move, he undid it and slipped his hand under the black denim.

“I love you too, you fucking junkie,” Namgyu replied, letting out a long sigh as Thanos’s hand moved lower.