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It’s not like Taehyung hasn’t thought about it. His name has the word hyung in it, and maybe an errant thought has culminated into an errant dream or two. Maybe he’s spent some time awake—imagining in the dark, when his thoughts are protected by the soft cover of night.
Taehyung had thought it was funny, and cute, the way Seokjin stuttered over his words and confused his names to the end of V-hyung , and he can’t be expected to control himself when he finds Seokjin cute. It was reactionary, the way his hands pull Seokjin closer, and naturally as one does, Taehyung had kissed the side of his head, the same way Seokjin likes doing to him.
Seokjin usually waits until they’re alone for that, though.
It was less funny and cute , when the thought of Seokjin calling him hyung had fully settled over him, and he realized just how he’d reacted to that statement. But he casts it from his mind to the best of his ability, because what use does lingering on something like that have? Nothing innocent.
—
Not thinking about it proves difficult. Taehyung should have realized it would be, but he’s good at lying to himself.
“Jin-ah,” Taehyung says, on the ride home together. He’s not sure if he meant to say that.
Seokjin pauses from whatever had his attention on his phone, before resuming. “It’s hyung,” he corrects, tone no-nonsense. Taehyung squirms in his seat.
“Hyung,” he says deliberately. “What are we doing for dinner?”
—
At home, Taehyung decides it’s a Thing. A thing he needs to do something about unless he wants to lose the last vestiges of his composure by trying to suppress it.
He wraps his arms around Seokjin’s waist from behind, resting his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder. He digs his chin in a little when Seokjin doesn’t immediately acknowledge him.
“Jin-ah,” he says again. This time it is purposeful. Deliberate.
Seokjin stills much like he had in the car, only this time Taehyung feels the tremor of his body as well. He smells of their body wash and Taehyung really can’t keep his hands from roaming the front of his body.
“You’re warm,” Taehyung muses, when Seokjin doesn’t say anything. He’s holding a wooden spoon in one hand and staring down at the food sizzling in the pan, still frozen in place. Taehyung kisses the side of his neck, still damp from his shower where his hair hangs around it, still drying. He resists the urge to bite. “My sweet Jin-ah.”
Seokjin’s hand darts out and snaps the stove off in one movement. He twists around in Taehyung’s arms, and Taehyung grins when he lets his hands fall to cup Seokjin’s ass through his sweats.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Seokjin breathes heavily.
Taehyung licks his lips, thinks about how he should respond, and decides he’s going to forgo an answer all together and kiss him instead. Seokjin allows this, for a moment, before he keeps Taehyung at bay with hands on his chest.
“Taehyung,” Seokjin starts.
“What, no V-hyung?” Taehyung asks, before he can think better of it.
Seokjin’s ears slowly burn red. “That was an accident. And you’re—you’re being—“
“You like it,” Taehyung says. In all honesty, Taehyung doesn’t know this to be true, he’s going out on a limb by saying so, but he knows Seokjin well enough to be able to decipher the way he reacts, even in the smallest of ways.
His hands trail upward and land on the dips of Seokjin’s waist. Taehyung digs his thumbs in a bit, watching Seokjin melt into the touch. “I could be a good hyung.”
Seokjin’s head falls, like he’s trying to hide his face, even though they’re standing face to face and it’s ultimately useless. It’s an interesting reaction, and Taehyung has to swallow down the excitement that already seems to be building.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Taehyung says after another moment.
“I don’t know what to say,” Seokjin answers. “This is weird. It’s definitely weird… but I sort of.” He bites down on his lip, and Taehyung can almost feel the way his own gaze darkens, tracking the movement. His thumb swipes over Seokjin’s hip bone.
“It’s okay if you’re into it,” Taehyung says, teasingly. “Just because you found out by accident doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with it.” He pauses. “Seokjin-ah.”
Seokjin exhales shakingly, and curls his fingers into Taehyung’s collar to pull him closer. Their kiss is all warmth, though chaste, and they break apart to kiss again, and again.
Seokjin seems worked up, more so than he normally would be, for some light kissing in the kitchen. The thought that it may be because he’s thinking of calling Taehyung his hyung takes Taehyung right along with him. Taehyung grinds forward, and Seokjin gasps as he’s shoved lightly against the stove, their meal forgotten.
“Are you—“ Taehyung struggles to think. “Are we—dinner, or?” Okay, so no forming sentences for the time being.
Seokjin kisses him deeper, tongue swiping across his bottom lip before nipping the skin there. “Can you make it through dinner?”
“Absolutely not,” comes Taehyung’s immediate response.
“Yeah me neither. Bedroom, please,” Seokjin suggests, and it’s all Taehyung needs before he’s picking Seokjin up by his thighs and hauling him off to the bedroom.
Seokjin laughs, face hidden in Taehyung’s neck. It sounds a little nervous, along with being amused, and Taehyung doesn’t think too much of it until Seokjin says, “Are you being a good hyung, helping me to bed?”
Taehyung almost trips and sends them both to the ground. He has a last minute save, and makes it to the bed, at which point Seokjin is in hysterics.
“You’re a menace,” Taehyung says, staring down at Seokjin, who’s underneath him, caged by Taehyung’s arms on either side.
“I’m not the one with a hyung kink,” Seokjin shoots back. He falls quiet after that, mouth twisting nervously again.
“You’re not?” Taehyung says. “You seemed to like it when I call you Seokjin-ah.” Taehyung’s hand creeps under Seokjin’s shirt, where it’s already ridden a bit up his torso. “Pretty,” he says, fingers grazing the warm skin of Seokjin’s torso.
Seokjin makes a little sound when he sighs, like it hadn’t quite meant to be heard. Taehyung tries not to look too smug. “You’re clearly the one getting off on this,” Seokjin says, voice low. He’s trying to hide his face into the bed, his hair, now longer, framing him in the low bedroom light.
“Sure am, but you are too.” Taehyung grabs his chin between his fingers and turns his face back towards him, staring at him head-on. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”
Seokjin squirms restlessly. “God, can we just—get to it already?”
Taehyung considers it, and then pulls away, sitting on the bed beside him. Seokjin looks at him with wide eyes. “Where are you going?”
“No,” Taehyung answers his earlier question. “If you wanna ‘ get to it’ , be good and ask hyung nicely.” He’s all confidence, but inside his heart is racing. This isn’t something he’s used to doing, usually happy to follow Seokjin’s lead, something that came naturally to them with the hierarchy of age. It’s a scary unknown, but he likes the feeling of throwing himself into it headfirst; he knows Seokjin will catch him.
Seokjin sits up slowly, looking Taehyung over. He’s clearly internally debating if this will truly be worth it, or if he should give it up for the night and forget it. Taehyung isn’t above dropping it, if Seokjin asked him to, or expressed any genuine discomfort. A pained look crosses Seokjin's face, there and gone in a flash. He lies backwards again, hand reaching out to intertwine with Taehyung’s.
Taehyung raises an eyebrow, but before he can get a word in, Seokjin speaks.
“Won’t,” Seokjin pauses, looking away. “Won’t hyung take care of me?”
Taehyung’s making a face. Pupils dilating, mouth dropping open, the whole nine yards, he’s sure. He isn’t certain though, because he might black out for a second.
Seokjin is burning red, and when he demurely tugs on Taehyung’s hand, Taehyung comes without hesitation.
“Oh, you are good for me,” Taehyung says. It’s cheesy, and he realizes as much as soon as he says it out loud, but he’s so taken with the turn of events that he isn’t even embarrassed about it.
“Yes,” Seokjin says. His eyes dart to Taehyung’s mouth, and it’s all Taehyung needs to lean in and kiss him again. The heat-slick of his mouth never grows old, the weight of him, the dips of his body under his hands, Taehyung could write symphonies about it.
Taehyung loves Seokjin like this, soft under him, almost pliant. When he pulls back, he sees all of this—before it’s replaced with something sharper, Seokjin’s eyes flashing dark, and Taehyung remembers that no matter what game they play, Seokjin, at the end of the day, will always be the one with more control.
Thank god Taehyung is comfortable on his knees.
Seokjin’s leg hikes up and around Taehyung, who’s again hovering just above him. Seokjin applies pressure and they press together below the waist. Taehyung breathes through his mouth.
Taehyung is already not good at this, he decides. He wants Seokjin to call him hyung, but maybe not as much as he likes Seokjin having him wrapped around his finger. He may as well try, though.
“Such a pretty mouth,” Taehyung says. In the bedroom, showering Seokjin with every gross word of praise that enter his head is less of a thought and more of an instinct.
He brings his thumb up to swipe at Seokjin’s bottom lip, grinning a little as he plays with the fat there. Seokjin opens his mouth, grabbing Taehyung’s wrist to pull two of Taehyung’s fingers into his mouth at once. Taehyung sputters.
“I want your cock, hyung.”
Taehyung slowly lowers his head until his hair curtains his face. He stares unseeing at Seokjin’s throat. “Oh my god.”
Seokjin ruts up against him from below, moaning. Seokjin is toying with him, clearly. Taehyung sort of likes it. (He loves it.)
Taehyung snaps his head back up, moving to pin Seokjin’s hips down to the mattress with one of his hands. “Stay still,” he says. He’s surprised by the authority he manages. “Be good.”
Seokjin’s eyes go a little hazy at that, the game bleeding into something more real for a moment. “Oh,” he breathes. “Alright.”
Taehyung smiles a little, kissing Seokjin’s neck before moving lower. Seokjin watches him with hungry eyes.
“Does my baby want me to touch him?” He asks, but he’s mostly talking to himself. He runs his hands down Seokjin’s thighs absently. He could probably be content with just this. Judging by the way Seokjin is beginning to squirm again, he guesses he doesn’t share the sentiment.
He grabs the fabric of his boxers and sweats down in one smooth movement, and Seokjin lifts his hips to assist him. Taehyung bites the corner of his mouth. “Eager for me, too.”
Seokjin only sighs.
With the clothing gone, he runs his hands back up Seokjin’s thighs, skin on skin. He leans over until his hot breath reaches Seokjin’s cock. It’s pink, hard and curved against his skin. Taehyung kisses the skin next to it, breathing Seokjin in. “So soft,” he sighs. “Beautiful, Jin-ah. Hyung is gonna be good to you.” Taehyung watches Seokjin’s cock twitch against his hip.
“Touch me then, hyung. Please.”
“And so polite,” Taehyung says, finally moving in the kiss a feather light kiss to the tip of his cock. Seokjin jerks, knees instinctually moving to bend. Taehyung presses him down with the weight of his body, pinning Seokjin by either side of his hips. “Aht, aht. I just said you were polite, good. Don’t make me change my mind.”
He gives a lick to his cockhead, as though savoring the taste of him. Seokjin has a hand over his mouth, trying not to begin begging already. Taehyung takes the head into his mouth, sucking on it lightly, taking his time to run his tongue over the slit, taking it out to run the soft wetness over his lips. “Mm,” he moans. “Sweet.”
Seokjin sits up on his forearms, hand tangling into Taehyung’s hair. “Hyung, nnh, please.”
Seokjin’s eyes are wide and soft, but unlike earlier, Taehyung can tell he’s not playing it up. “Already? I’ve barely tasted you,” Taehyung says. A bead of precum spills out. Taehyung licks it up, swirling his tongue for a moment, and Seokjin yanks at his hair.
“It’s because hyung makes me feel so good,” Seokjin gasps, between his sweet noises. “So please touch me more.”
“Of course,” Taehyung says, a little sardonically. He sinks his hot mouth down Seokjin’s shaft, his hand at the base of his cock. He works to leave him wet, to make him feel good. Taehyung feels Seokjin’s heel dig into his back.
“Yes, good!—Fuck.” Seokjin struggles to stay still, or quiet. “I want you, Tae—hyung.”
“Is this not enough for you?” Taehyung’s asks, after pulling off. “You need my cock that badly?”
One of Seokjin’s hands thump against the bed repeatedly, like he’s tapping out or maybe grasping for something solid, Taehyung can’t tell. “Get the fucking lube.”
Taehyung laughs, standing up to oblige him. He’s already got a finger coated when he comes back, kneeling on the floor. He drags Seokjin closer, hitching one of his legs over his shoulder. “Hyung’s got you.”
Taehyung stretches him open, patiently, singing him praises all the while. Sweetheart, beautiful, lovely Seokjin-ah , and Seokjin seems to be enjoying himself plenty.
And slowly melting down. “If you don’t fuck me soon I’m going to come,” Seokjin cries. He’s got his teeth gritted, fighting off impending orgasm.
“No one’s stopping you,” Taehyung answers.
“On your dick—I want, on—“ Taehyung only nods. He leans up and licks into Seokjin’s mouth.
“That’s fine too,” he breathes.
He lines himself up, his cock painfully hard where it’s been neglected all the while. Taehyung has fairly strong resolve, and good stamina, so he isn’t worried. Seokjin, though, seems to be pushing down, trying to get Taehyung to hurry the fuck up.
“Inside.”
“I’m coming, baby. Patience.” Taehyung kisses the inside of Seokjin’s knee where it's hitched by his shoulder, teeth grazing there shortly after. What he wouldn’t do to live in a world where such marks were allowed.
Taehyung pushes in, throat working around a groan. Seokjin is arching up on the bed, breathing hard. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“My good—“ Taehyung slides out, in. His nails dig into Seokjin’s sides. “Good boy.”
“Hyung is so big—“ Seokjin says. “Fucks me just the way I want.”
Taehyung tries to pace himself, makes sure the apply the right pressure, push in at the right angle, and— he’s gonna come. He never comes this fast, but this is—he’s never felt it build up in him so quickly. He stops fucking into him, trying to pull back from the edge. “I’m gonna come if you keep talking,” he admits. Perhaps shamefully.
Seokjin whines, trying to pull Taehyung back. Taehyung shakes his head, pulling out. “You wanna ride me, baby?”
Seokjin scrambles upright to his knees, before almost falling over. “Yes.”
Taehyung arranges himself against the pillows, swallowing harshly when Seokjin straddles him. His cock twitches when he grinds over it.
Taehyung grabs for himself and lines them up, Seokjin sinking down onto him with an impatience that leaves Taehyung’s eyes rolling back.
He braces himself on Taehyung’s shoulders, eyes shut tight as he chases his own pleasure. Taehyung dry sobs. “Hyung’s cock is big as it is useless,” Seokjin says. Taehyung’s eyes land on his, shock in his features.
“I thought you knew how to use it, but—“ Seokjin moans, fingers curling over his shoulders. “Maybe not. You’re just mine to use.”
Taehyung’s dick twitches where it’s buried in Seokjin, mouth falling open on a cut off moan. “Jin-ah,” he warns.
“You like that, huh?” Seokjin continues, even though he looks on the brink of coming himself. “You like being a big, useless, toy for me—“
The rest of Seokjin’s sentence is cut off by Taehyung fucking up into him so hard he loses his breath. Taehyung doesn’t want to stop once he starts, and Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind. He’s cursing freely, scratching Taehyung’s chest as lightly as he can without leaving marks that won’t fade in the next few hours, and Taehyung has his hips in a grip tight enough to bruise if he isn’t careful himself.
He’s honestly relieved when Seokjin comes, one of Taehyung’s hands moving to work his cock through his orgasm. He slows his pace until he’s only twitching uselessly inside him, but Seokjin doesn’t give him much of a break, leaning down to kiss him hard.
“Fuck me, hyung. I want you to come.”
Taehyung doesn’t need to hear any more. He rolls them over again, pushing Seokjin into the bed as he chases his own orgasm, and it doesn’t take long. Seokjin, only encouraging his current state of mind, whispers filthy things into his ear, legs hooked around him. When he does come, he pulls out in time to paint Seokjin in white, his come mixing with Seokjin’s own.
He takes a second to catch his breath. When he opens his eyes, still on his knees between Seokjin’s legs, and Seokjin is blushing.
“Are you seriously embarrassed right now?” Taehyung asks him.
Seokjin covers his face with his hands. “Yah. Shut up.”
Taehyung grins. “You loved it.”
“I said shut up,” comes his muffled reply.
Taehyung lies beside him, slowly prying Seokjin’s hands off to kiss the side of his face. “Thanks for indulging me.”
Seokjin shrugs. “I—I mean. I did—like it too.”
“I love you.” Taehyung lays an arm across his chest. He leans in close to his ear. “Jin-ah.”
Seokjin kicks him off the bed.