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Hoseok is, for lack of a better term, wound the fuck up.
He’s not really sure why. Maybe it’s because they’ve been pretty non-stop for the last few weeks with music shows and rehearsals and interviews, and now there’s only a half day of interviews before a short two day break.
It’s not enough of a break, not nearly. Especially since it’s been over a month since he and his boyfriend have had any quality time together that didn’t involve immediately falling asleep in the same bed.
But still the end is in sight, he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, etc etc.
So Hoseok blames that on why he’s feeling so wired today, why he can’t stop staring at Yoongi’s hands where they cradle his phone, can’t stop staring at the way his lips move as he reads something on the screen.
Yoongi catches him once, staring at his mouth, and when Hoseok meets his eyes in the mirror his soft pout morphs into a sharp smirk for half a second. It’s gone just as quickly as it came, and then Yoongi’s is back on his phone, but it makes Hoseok want, and he wants Yoongi to want too. Wants those eyes on him, wants to see his mouth curl up with wicked promise.
It starts off innocently enough, a touch to Yoongi’s shoulder as they wait for the first interview to start, sitting next to him during interviews so he can lean on him when he laughs. Yoongi doesn’t seem to think much of it, gummy smile tucked into his sleeve when Hoseok practically falls onto his lap after Seokjin cracks a joke.
But it’s not the reaction Hoseok wants, so as the morning continues he finds himself pushing Yoongi more and more. He places his hand on the back of Yoongi’s neck at one point, digging his thumb into the muscle as Yoongi answers a question. His voice cracks a little bit, something the other members tease him about and laugh off, but Hoseok can’t join in the fun. He’s too busy gauging Yoongi’s reaction, and trying not to act disappointed when he doesn't retaliate.
In fact, it seems that no matter what Hoseok does Yoongi is either oblivious, or impervious. They’re in the dressing room for a quick round of makeup touch-ups before the last interview, and Hoseok is determined to get a rise out of Yoongi.
He walks behind him, grateful for once for the cramped dressing room the seven of them are sharing, as it gives him a good excuse to plaster his front to Yoongi’s back as he shuffles past.
Maybe he does a subtle grind while he’s at it, but desperate times, desperate measures.
“You’re in my way, hyung,” he husks into Yoongi’s ear, his hair tickling Hoseok’s nose.
Yoongi just makes a little ‘hm’ sound of acknowledgement, focus never leaving his phone as he moves forward a little to give Hoseok more room to pass. Hoseok almost wants to scream, especially when Jungkook calls Yoongi over to ask him something, and Yoongi goes without so much as a glance back at him.
He’s damn near pouting during the final interview, a video call with some US magazine that Hoseok has already forgotten the name of. It doesn’t help that when Yoongi answers some question about ‘if you could take any member’s talent, who would you choose?’ he pats Hoseok on the thigh as he answers, and his hand kind of just… stays there.
It becomes a point of focus, and Hoseok is barely paying attention to any of the questions being asked because Yoongi’s hand is warm and heavy and right there , just above his knee. He gives Hoseok’s thigh a gentle squeeze every few minutes, nothing more than a barely there flex of his fingers, but Hoseok feels it like a vise.
It’s enough to keep him sated, for now, and he’s on his best behavior until their manager gives them the all-clear and they’re finally free. The vibrating energy is back, making Hoseok bounce on his heels as they wait for their vans. He climbs into the back of a separate van from Yoongi, not sure if he can trust himself from jumping him the moment the doors close, driver and other members be damned.
Once they’re at the dorm he tries not to immediately seek out his boyfriend. He talks to Jimin for a little while, discussing the new choreography. He passes Namjoon and Taehyung, who are on their way back out to the gym together, and encourages them with a grin. Seokjin and Jungkook are gaming on the couch, barely giving Hoseok a passing glance before they're yelling at each other, or their characters on screen, or both.
He tries to make his way to Yoongi’s room as nonchalantly as he can, but he’s practically sprinting down the hallway when he sees the coast is clear. He bounces on his heels, knocking on the closed door with his knuckles.
No answer.
“Hyung?” he calls softly, knocking again. Still no answer.
He pushes the door open to see Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, headphones on and attention honed in on the audio file he’s working on. He’s doing that open mouth pout thing he does when he’s really concentrating on something.
Hoseok isn’t sure if he wants to kiss him or throttle him.
He settles for walking up to the desk, and Yoongi gives him a quick glance before he pulls one headphone off his ear, attention back on the screen.
“Do you need something, Seok?”
Hoseok will admit that he likes to be coy, a tease. He likes to dance around what he wants, content to let Yoongi figure it out.
But like he mentioned earlier, he's wound the fuck up, and Yoongi's nonchalance to his presence isn't helping.
“Your mouth, fingers, and dick. Not necessarily in that order.”
If Yoongi’s surprised, he doesn't show it. Instead he chuckles, a low sound that can barely be heard over the whir of his computer’s fan.
“That so?”
He still hasn't looked away from his monitor.
“Hyung,” Hoseok whines, finally just turning Yoongi in his chair to face him. He pulls the headphones off Yoongi’s head and gently places them on the desk. “Hyung, come on.”
Yoongi tilts his head, lazily looking Hoseok up and down. He finally sighs, like he’s bored, like he’s put out. It makes Hoseok embarrassed, something akin to shame lighting redhot down his spine. It pools in his stomach, making his gut swoop with anticipation.
“C’mon then,” Yoongi says, like he’s doing Hoseok a favor, and Hoseok wastes no time climbing into Yoongi’s lap, straddling his legs. He arches his back a little, consummate show-off that he is. The chair squeaks a little ominously, but it'll hold them.
It's not like they haven’t done this before.
Hoseok drapes his arms over Yoongi's shoulders, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of Yoongi's neck. He scratches against the skin there, and Yoongi hums, but his hands stay on the armrests of his chair, and he looks unimpressed and unbothered.
Which is bullshit. Hoseok is here in a pair of fuck boy sweats that do nothing to hide his raging semi, straddling his boyfriend's lap and looking like a goddamn snack.
He rolls his hips, grinding on Yoongi’s lap. “Hyung,” he whines, looking at Yoongi through heavy eyelids. “Touch me, fuck me, ruin me .”
Hoseok shivers when Yoongi arches a lazy brow.
“Is that why you were acting the way you were today? Trying to get me riled up, trying to get me angry?”
One hand traces Hoseok’s thigh, a barely there touch, but Hoseok feels the warmth of it like fire. He tries to push himself into Yoongi’s hand, tries to get some push back, some pressure, something , but Yoongi keeps his touch feather light as his hand comes to a stop on his hip.
“Did you want me to punish you when we got home? Want me to pound you into the mattress until you were screaming?” Yoongi continues, digging his thumb into the juncture of Hoseok’s hip and thigh, the pressure against the muscles and tendons making Hoseok's head fall back.
He moans. “ Yes , yes hyung. Please.”
Yoongi hums again, a rumbling sound that reminds Hoseok of a purr.
“Why would I give you what you want when you were such a nuisance today? Rubbing my shoulders is one thing, but rutting against me in the dressing room?”
He tsks, and Hoseok feels something akin to fear zip through him. A good fear, though.
Yoongi always makes it good.
“You weren’t paying attention to me...”
“That’s what you wanted, my attention? Why, so you could get fucked in the dressing room?”
Hoseok laughs as he grinds down on Yoongi’s lap again, but it’s strangled, nervous. “Maybe?”
Yoongi cocks his head, expression sharp. “In front of everyone?”
“I-” Hoseok starts, but Yoongi cuts off his answer by cupping his cock through his sweats, and Hoseok can’t stop himself from rutting forward with a grunt, the relief so good.
Yoongi’s hand at his hip stops his movement, forcing Hoseok to hold still as he grinds his palm against his aching cock.
“Kook saw, you know,” he says, eyes locked on Hoseok’s face, studying him. Hoseok feels naked, even though he’s still fully clothed.
“He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I could tell by the way his face got red, the way he kept looking back at you then to me.”
Hoseok moans as Yoongi squeezes the head through the fabric, thumb running over the top of it where his sweats are starting to get darker. He wants so badly to feel Yoongi’s warm palm against him, to feel the calluses on his fingers from where he's been practicing guitar.
As if he can read his mind, Yoongi pulls down Hoseok sweats and boxers, settling the waistband snug under his balls.
“But you like that, don’t you?” Yoongi continues, his long fingers wrapping around Hoseok’s length. Hoseok nearly sobs in relief. “You don’t care if anyone sees how badly you need it. Fuck, I bet you want them to watch.”
Red hot want stabs through Hoseok’s gut, the warmth spreading through his veins and pooling in his chest, his cheeks.
Yes, he wants it. He wants everyone’s eyes on him as he bounces on Yoongi’s cock, wants everyone to see how good he is. He wants hands on him, soft and encouraging or rough and needy, he doesn’t care. He just wants, wants, wants...
“ Yoongi- ” Hoseok whines, the honorific getting lost in a hiccuping moan when Yoongi’s hand starts to stroke him in earnest, slow and tight.
“You’d put on a good show for them, right Seokie?”
“Yes,” he moans, grinding forward into Yoongi’s fist. He's so close, he's been worked up for so long it's not going to take much for him to spill over Yoongi's fingers. “Fuck, yes, hyung, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”
Just as he feels the fire blaze in his veins, Yoongi lets him go. The sudden absence of that warmth and pressure has his orgasm fizzing out, pulse roaring in his ears. He whines, thrusting forward to get any friction he can, but both of Yoongi’s hands are holding his hips now, grip tight.
“Oh come on, SeokSeok,” Yoongi coos as Hoseok trembles in his lap, every nerve in his body tingling with the denied release. “You didn’t think I’d give you what you wanted that easily, did you?”
Hoseok can’t think of any other response than to whine, a sad noise that barely leaves his throat as Yoongi’s hands rub his thighs.
Yoongi is careful not to touch his dick again, his warm hand moving from Hoseok’s thighs to his hips, across his belly and lower back. He rolls Hoseok’s balls between his fingers, and Hoseok has to bite the flesh of his palm to keep from screaming.
“What’s wrong, Seokie?” Yoongi asks, faux sweetness dripping from that sharp mouth. “Worried you’re making too much noise?”
His finger taps the head of Hoseok’s cock, just a split second of pressure, but it pulls a high keen from Hoseok’s throat, his orgasm rushing to meet him again.
“Ah, ah, hyung, ” he pants, chest rising and falling. He looks down at himself, at his cock, red and weeping. He’s dripping precum on Yoongi’s shirt, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
In fact, Yoongi doesn't look like he’s affected at all. The only thing that belies his interest is the hardness Hoseok feels underneath his ass.
That, and the pink tinge to Yoongi’s cheeks, like he’s just had a glass of his favorite whiskey.
“Hyung will help,” Yoongi murmurs, voice soft and gentle like he didn’t just deny Hoseok relief. He lifts up the hem of his shirt, and Hoseok kind of lazily lifts his arms, his limbs still feeling like jelly.
“Nope,” Yoongi says, and holds up the hem of Hoseok’s shirt. “Open.”
Hoseok opens his mouth, taking the bundle of fabric between his teeth. He holds it there, keeping his shirt pulled up to display his stomach and chest.
“So pretty,” Yoongi murmurs, hand tracing up Hoseok’s ribcage. He flicks one of Hoseok’s pebbled nipples, cooing when Hoseok pushes his chest into Yoongi’s touch. “My pretty baby. Want me to touch you again?”
Hoseok nods his head eagerly, and Yoongi smiles, big and gummy and sweet. Hoseok would kiss him right now if he could.
Then Yoongi is spitting in his palm and taking Hoseok’s cock in hand again, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing Hoseok has ever seen. That visual is gonna bounce in his head for weeks, he just knows it. It’s gonna fuel solo shower masturbatory sessions for the foreseeable future.
“C’mon then, pretty baby. Put on a show for me.”
Hoseok leans back, hands on Yoongi’s knees to support himself as he thrusts forward into the tight ring of Yoongi’s fingers. He knows he looks good like this, showing off, letting Yoongi see the lithe curve of his body. He enjoys showing what he can do as a dancer, his hips rolling fluidly.
Judging by the way Yoongi can’t take his eyes off him, his mouth slack and partly open, he’s doing a good job.
He rolls his hips, fucking into Yoongi’s hand with a whine. The fabric of his shirt is damp from saliva where he’s holding it in his mouth, but he doesn’t let go, afraid Yoongi will stop this if he does.
Yoongi’s other hand traces over Hoseok’s skin, warm palm skimming up his ribs, tracing down his spine. It comes to rest on his ass, fingers digging into the muscle and encouraging Hoseok to thrust faster.
“Feel good, baby?” Yoongi asks, voice husky and a little out of breath, like this is affecting him just as much.
Hoseok nods, unable to do much with the fabric still in his mouth. His orgasm is so close, simmering right under the surface. It’s not going to take much to push him over the edge.
“Wanna come, Seokie? Wanna come all over hyung, make me such a mess?”
Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, hips working faster. All it takes is for Yoongi to move his hand again, fingers tracing the cleft of Hoseok’s ass, then he’s at the precipice, on the edge, ready to fall-
Only to be denied again when Yoongi lets him go, grip once again going to his hips to keep him from thrusting forward.
Hoseok screams, the sound muffled by the fabric in his mouth. He feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He pants around his shirt, eyelids squeezed almost painfully shut as his climax fizzles out again. Yoongi’s hands roam across his body again, chest, stomach, ass, thighs. Everywhere but where Hoseok needs it.
When his almost-orgasm finally fades away, when his pulse is no longer sky high and his breathing is somewhat back to normal, he opens his eyes to see Yoongi watching him, lips quirked up in a small smirk.
“ Mmm mh mhmm ,” Hoseok mutters, fabric muffling his words.
Yoongi’s smirk gets a little bigger, and he pulls the fabric out of Hoseok’s mouth.
“What was that?”
“You’re the worst.”
Yoongi pulls him down by his shirt, their noses nearly touching. Hoseok has to go cross-eyed to keep Yoongi’s face in focus.
“Do you want to stop?” he husks.
Hoseok slowly shakes his head.
“Good,” Yoongi murmurs, placing a fleeting kiss on Hoseok’s lips. It’s so fleeting that he can’t even really enjoy the sensation, whining when Yoongi pulls away too soon.
“Stick out your tongue.”
Hoseok does, jolting when he feels Yoongi take the tip of it between his lips, gently sucking. He points his tongue a little more, giving Yoongi more to work with. His soft lips glide over him, gently tugging on Hoseok’s tongue. When Yoongi’s lips touch Hoseok’s, he can feel the tip of Yoongi’s tongue flick against his. He tries to open his mouth more, tries to encourage a full kiss, but Yoongi just backs off a little, lips teasing around the pointed tip of Hoseok’s tongue.
Hoseok knows Yoongi’s good at giving head, having been on the receiving end multiple times, but what Yoongi’s doing now is driving Hoseok out of his mind. He wants so badly to see those lips stretched around his cock, to feel his tongue digging into his slit. He whines, and Yoongi swallows down the noise, finally pulling Hoseok in for a kiss.
Yoongi kisses him thoroughly, tongue exploring, tracing the roof of his mouth. He kisses Hoseok like a man starved, and this is what Hoseok wanted.
He wanted Yoongi to want, to feel frantic.
His hands go to Yoongi’s waist, fingers fumbling with the hem of his shirt. The backs of his fingers graze warm skin, and Hoseok moans. Yoongi’s still wearing pants, like actual pants with a belt and everything, and Hoseok wants to scream when his clumsy fingers can’t cooperate to get the belt undone.
“Easy, baby,” Yoongi says, taking both of Hoseok’s wrists in one hand. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Just like that his easy control is back, and he moves Hoseok off his lap. Hoseok stands in front of him, cock still hard and hanging out of his sweats, a large patch of saliva drying on his shirt.
He’s so unbearably horny he almost can’t stand it.
“Bed.”
“Can I take my clothes off?”
Yoongi grins crookedly. “If you want.”
Of course Hoseok wants. That’s what got him into this mess in the first place.
He strips as he walks to Yoongi’s bed, a trail of breadcrumbs for Yoongi to follow. Except the home at the end of this trail is Hoseok’s ass.
Same difference.
He lays down on his stomach, not even attempting to fight the urge to rub his cock on the sheets. Yoongi always has really soft sheets on his bed.
“Do you even need me here?” Yoongi asks, humor coloring his voice when Hoseok ruts against the bed again.
Hoseok looks over at him, still sitting in his chair. “Not really. Getting just as much from your sheets as I did from you. Least I’ll be able to come this time.”
Yoongi’s eyes flash dark and cruel, and thrill shoots down Hoseok’s spine. He waits for it, the rough hands on his body, the gruff words growled in his ear. He wants Yoongi to push him to the brink, wants him to make him feel like he can’t take more, then show him he can.
He ruts against the mattress again, holding Yoongi’s stare, egging him on.
Finally Yoongi stands, one fluid motion that happens in the blink of an eye. Hoseok keeps moving his hips, slow tortuous grinds just to keep the heat pooling in his belly, as Yoongi walks to the edge of the bed.
Hoseok stops his movements when he feels Yoongi’s hand on his lower back, tracing up his spine to settle at the base of his skull.
“You stopped,” he says quietly, burying his fingers in Hoseok’s hair.
“Th-thought you wanted me to.”
“No. Keep going.”
Hoseok does, rolling his hips and rubbing his sensitive cock against the sheets. Yoongi just keeps his hand in Hoseok’s hair, giving the strands an occasional tug.
“ Hyung …” Hoseok keens, arching his back. “Hyung please.”
“Please what? I thought you said you only needed the sheets?”
Fuck past Hoseok, that asshole is always fucking things up for him.
He tries to shake his head, but Yoongi’s grip in his hair stops him. “No, no. I’m sorry. Hyung, please, fuck, please touch me.”
“Okay Seokie…” then Yoongi’s grip is gone from his hair, the bed dipping behind him. Two large hands roughly pull his hips in the air, and Hoseok makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat at the loss of friction.
That noise morphs into a full fledged groan when Yoongi spreads him, licking a long wet stripe over his hole.
Hoseok grinds backwards onto Yoongi’s face, eager for more, but Yoongi pulls away, giving his ass a firm smack.
“Hold still."
Then Yoongi is spreading his ass, and a moment later Hoseok hears a sharp noise and feels warm wetness on his hole.
Yoongi just spit on his ass.
Oh god, Hoseok is going to die today.
He barely has time to come to grips with his inevitable demise before Yoongi is pushing in his thumbs, just a little, just enough to hold him open. The stretch stings, but then Yoongi's tongue is there, and whatever discomfort he feels goes flying out the goddamn window.
Yoongi's tongue is relentless, prodding deep and wet, making Hoseok's eyes roll back in his head. He bites the corner of the pillow to keep from yelling as Yoongi relents just a little to suck on his rim before diving back in.
Hoseok's cock hangs heavy between his legs, and when he chances a glance he can see a bead of precum oozing from the tip and dripping onto the sheets below. Behind that he can see Yoongi’s knees tucked against his calves and his too large shirt hanging off his frame.
He tries to imagine what his face looks like. Is he working up a sweat, being too close to overheated skin? Are his bags spiky and sticking to his forehead, or has he pushed his hair back like he does during rehearsals? Are his eyebrows knit in concentration, sharp gaze taking stock of every subtle movement of Hoseok's body, or are his eyes closed, savoring the taste of Hoseok's skin like it's a glass of wine?
"You good, Seok?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok realizes it's been a little while since he's made a noise.
"I'm good," he manages to say, his voice wavering.
"You close?"
"Depends," Hoseok says, his voice getting a little stronger, his tone more challenging. "You going to let me come this time?"
He hears the rustling of fabric behind him, and he just knows Yoongi is shrugging.
"Dunno. Guess you'll have to find out."
Yoongi spreads him with one hand while the other wraps around his cock. Hoseok whines, grinding back on Yoongi's face before thrusting forward into his hand. Yoongi lets him do it twice before giving his ass another little smack, and Hoseok stills once again, letting Yoongi do what he does best.
He wasn't kidding with that tongue technology line. No matter what he's doing with it, be it rapping, kissing, or tonguing Hoseok's ass, it always exceeds expectations.
Yoongi lazily strokes his cock, a contrast to the way he's eating Hoseok's ass, nearly frantic. Hoseok wonders if Yoongi's finally lost his cool. He must have, he's normally not so messy, so loud. Hoseok's the messy one, the one who wants cum painting his skin or drool dripping down his chin.
Like now he can feel the spit running down his taint to his balls, can hear the loud slurping sounds coming from Yoongi. It makes his toes curl, and when Yoongi's grip on his cock tightens just a little, Hoseok buries his face in the pillow, muffling his voice as his orgasm washes over him.
He feels the first wave of it hit like a train, his hole clenching around Yoongi's tongue. White hot fire rolls under his skin, making him shiver and sweat. Blood is roaring in his ears, drowning out whatever Yoongi is saying as he waits for the full wave, the tsunami that's about to hit.
But it never comes.
He sobs into the pillow, confused as his awareness dribbles back to him. He feels a hand rubbing along his spine, hears Yoongi's soft voice saying something, but he can't make out the words.
His attention is drawn to the other sensation on his body, the tight ring of Yoongi's fingers at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm in its tracks.
He screams, sound swallowed by the pillow he's still holding onto, and he resists the urge to kick his feet like a petulant child.
Barely, but he does.
A moment later gentle hands are rolling him over, and Hoseok blinks at the bright light, his vision swimming before focusing on Yoongi’s face.
"Fuck you," Hoseok snarls, but Yoongi just smiles at him.
"What's wrong Seokie? You can dish it out but you can't take it?"
This is nothing like what Hoseok did to him today. He just teased a little, flirted a little. Yoongi is torturing him.
He opens his mouth to say as much but Yoongi cuts him off, fingers tracing his red and aching cock. Hoseok arches clear off the bed, eyes squeezing shut.
He's never felt so sensitive before. He can still feel the fleeting touch, the sensation sending shocks all the way down to his toes.
He comes back to himself when he hears the familiar click of a lube bottle, and when he opens his eyes Yoongi is looking between his legs, and a moment later he feels wet fingers at his hole.
Yoongi holds his hip with one hand, ever aware of how Hoseok will take what he wants if given the opportunity, so Hoseok is left to the slow push and pull of Yoongi's fingers. He works them in gently, like Hoseok isn't ready and wanting, like he wouldn't take Yoongi's cock right now, prep or no.
Yoongi stops the movement of his fingers once he pressed all the way in, his knuckles flush to Hoseok's skin. Hoseok waits for him to start moving, start fucking Hoseok with his fingers, but nothing. He tries to roll his hips, thinking maybe Yoongi wants him to do the work this time, but the hand holding him down presses harder, stilling his movements.
Yoongi looks at him, head slightly cocked, and Hoseok searches his expression for a clue, a command, anything. Yoongi is looking at him like he expects something, but he's not sure what.
"Hyu-" Hoseok starts, only to break off in a high pitched keen when Yoongi crooks his fingers, pressing against Hoseok's prostate.
Hoseok can't keep still as Yoongi holds pressure there, one hand fisting the sheets while the other roughly tugs at his own hair. He tries to move, either away from the sensation or deeper into it, he's not sure, but Yoongi's hand is a firm anchor, keeping him weighted down.
Finally the pressure relents, and Yoongi slowly fucks him with his fingers. Hoseok feels his sanity unraveling at the seams, and then Yoongi does it again, this time the pads of his fingers rubbing circles against his prostate.
Hoseok's mouth falls open in a silent scream, tears gathering along his lashline, threatening to spill. He's beyond frustrated, beyond turned on, and all he wants is to come, to show Yoongi that it's futile to resist giving him what he wants.
Yoongi relents, fucking Hoseok open again. Hoseok's breath is coming faster now, damn near hyperventilating. He tries to tell Yoongi that he's close again, he's going to come, but his tongue is sluggish and he can't get it to cooperate.
Yoongi knows anyway. He always knows, reading Hoseok's body like sheet music. He fucks harder into him, his fingers crooked so he hits Hoseok's prostate with each pass.
Hoseok's tongue finally starts to work again, and a litany of yeses and fucks tumble from his lips. Not exactly Shakespeare, but they're words so Hoseok is doing better than he thought.
His orgasm builds again, quicker this time. Yoongi's focus is on where his fingers are disappearing into Hoseok's body, the hand on his hip moving to his thigh, fingers pressing in.
Yoongi's gaze moves to Hoseok's face, lips moving but Hoseok doesn't hear him over the roar in his ears, but he thinks he's saying 'it's okay, let go, come for me, baby'.
And Hoseok doesn’t need the encouragement but it helps because he's tumbling over the edge again, every nerve in his body alight, lightning arcing down his spine to his cock, his feet, his hands. He feels like a live wire, a surging point of energy-
Yoongi shifts, movement Hoseok is barely aware of, happening on the edge of his consciousness. It's not until he feels Yoongi's fingers wrap around his cock again that alarm bells start sounding off in his brain.
The ring of Yoongi's fingers is tight at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm yet again even as Yoongi grinds his fingers into Hoseok's prostate.
The electricity simmering under his skin reaches a fever pitch before fizzling out so quickly Hoseok's surprised he doesn't smell smoke. All he can focus on is the insistent pressure on his prostate, the way he can feel his orgasm right there , denied by Yoongi's beautiful fingers.
Tears roll down his face as Yoongi finally relents, releasing his cock and pulling his fingers out. His hands go back to Hoseok's hips, grip firm.
Hoseok is shaking, hands coming up to cover his face as fat tears roll down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he babbles, one hand wiping at his cheeks, the other threading through his own hair. His skin feels like it's too tight, drawn over his chest like a drum.
"I won't do it again, I'll be good, I promise. I promise."
Yoongi's touch instantly becomes more gentle, hands skimming up Hoseok's ribs. He cradles Hoseok's face, thumbing away his tears.
"You are good, SeokSeok," he murmurs as he kisses Hoseok on his forehead, his nose, the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry, did hyung push too far?"
Hoseok opens his eyes, and all he can see is Yoongi's face, blotting out the light behind him. If Hoseok was more poetic he'd say he looks like an eclipse, his dark hair haloed in gold.
But Yoongi's expression is pinched, worried. His gaze flits over Hoseok's face, looking for reassurance, for forgiveness.
Hoseok is quick to shake his head. "No, no, I'm good."
Yoongi grins at him, soft, sweet. "Yes, you are."
He kisses Hoseok again, a soft whisper against Hoseok's lips.
"Do you wanna come now?" he asks, and Hoseok can feel the way his mouth forms the words.
He shakily nods, nose bumping Yoongi's, and Yoongi kisses him again, a little harder, a little more hungry.
Yoongi moves down his body, taking his cock in hand. All it takes is his tongue rolling over the swollen head for Hoseok to come with a whine, painting Yoongi's pink mouth in white.
His orgasm hits him like a meteor, red hot and destructive. His spine bows with the intensity of it, muscles quivering with barely restrained energy. He thinks he maybe shouts, maybe says Yoongi’s name, he’s not sure. Everything is a roar in his head, white light exploding behind his eyelids.
He's still shaking as he comes back down to earth, and the first thing he registers once he's back in his own body is the fleeting feeling of lips moving against him, whispering praises against his skin.
His eyes flutter open, settling on Yoongi. His head is pillowed against Hoseok's stomach, cat eyes blinking lazily up at him. He must have wiped his mouth, because Hoseok doesn't see his cum anywhere.
It disappoints him, a little.
"You with me, SeokSeok?"
Hoseok hums, and he tries to pick his hand up to thread his fingers through Yoongi's hair. It looks so soft where it's falling across his forehead.
Like silk.
But his arm is like jelly and he can't get it to cooperate. He finally settles for his fingers finding the skin of Yoongi's elbow where it's pressed into the mattress. His skin is soft too. This works.
"Fuck," Hoseok croaks, looking up at the ceiling. "That was… intense."
"Good intense?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok doesn't have to look at him to see the worry painted on his face.
"The best."
Yoongi is quiet, fingers tapping out a beat against Hoseok's ribs.
"You were amazing," he murmurs, and he plants a kiss just above Hoseok's belly button. "So perfect for me, Hoseokie."
The tears are threatening to spill again. Happy ones, this time.
"I love you."
The tears do fall then, and Yoongi makes a little distressed noise in the back of his throat. He cups Hoseok's jaw again, finger catching a tear.
"Good crying or bad?"
Hoseok huffs a wet little laugh, opening his eyes again. The eclipse is back, Yoongi haloed in gold.
"Good. I love you too."
Yoongi kisses him again, humming against his mouth.
Not humming, purring. Happy Yoongi. Content Yoongi.
Hoseok pulls the covers over both of them, whining about how cold Yoongi keeps it in his room. He makes Yoongi shuck his own clothes, entertaining the idea of getting Yoongi worked up again, but then Yoongi is wrapping his arms around him.
“C’mon Seokie,” Yoongi murmurs against his hair as he pulls him closer. “Let’s sleep.”
Yoongi will hear no argument from him. He shuffles closer, legs entwining, face tucked against Yoongi’s chest. They sleep tangled together, warm and satisfied.