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At least this time when Jungkook fell asleep on the couch he didn’t leave either a candle or the Weverse live on. He even worked his way out of his jacket at some point, like a real grown-up, even though he’s still wearing his hat.
No coat is good, though, because he wakes up with Kim Namjoon asleep on top of him, and Namjoon is a furnace on the best of days. Not that Jungkook minds - he’ll put up with a little sweat to be closer to his hyung - but, uh.
“Namjoon hyung,” Jungkook whispers. “Hyuuuung, what are you doing here?”
“Sleeping,” Namjoon mumbles into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Shh.”
“Why are you sleeping on my couch?”
“Because you’re on your couch,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook realizes that he has a hand in Namjoon’s hair, running his fingers carefully across Namjoon’s head and down the back of his neck. He doesn’t remember doing that, but Namjoon sighs and pushes his head back into Jungkook’s hand like Bam searching for pets, so Jungkook keeps doing it.
The thing is… Jungkook showed up at Namjoon’s door, in Namjoon’s bed, six weeks ago, talked about proposals, and kissed him. And in those six weeks they haven’t really… talked. They haven’t seen each other much, but even so - they’ve brushed against each other between sets at the gym; they’ve had stilted conversations about work with other people in the room; and there was one stolen moment in Namjoon’s studio that had resulted in an ill-thought out and infamous hickey. (Oops.) But somehow, despite (or thanks to) Jungkook’s wild butterflies every time he’s near Namjoon, he hasn’t been able to figure out how to start a real conversation, and it seems Namjoon hasn’t either.
Jungkook doesn’t feel any less head over heels for Namjoon, or any less sure that Namjoon has feelings for him, too. But. But.
He can’t say all of that though, so he just says, “I really miss you, hyung.”
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says. He’s blinking sleepily now, and Jungkook’s heart is doing something ridiculous in his chest.
“You’ve been gone, and working, and doing all sorts of cool stuff,” Jungkook says. “I want you to do all those things.”
“I missed you while I was doing them, though,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook manages a small “Oh,” before leaning forward to kiss Namjoon. He ignores the weird angle and the morning breath and just sinks into the feeling of Namjoon’s mouth on his and his sturdy body pressing Jungkook into the couch.
They don’t stop kissing for a few minutes before Namjoon pulls back - to Jungkook’s whine - but only to arrange himself better on the couch, straddling Jungkook’s thighs, and sliding a big hand under Jungkook’s head to support him.
I’m so stupidly in love with you, Jungkook thinks. He loops his arms around Namjoon’s neck and kisses him with all his enthusiasm, long luxurious kisses that seem to take days.
Somewhere in all this he realizes that he’s getting hard, and that Namjoon is too.
“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says half against Jungkook’s mouth. His free hand slides down Jungkook’s cheek, his shoulder, his chest. “What do you want--”
“Yes,” Jungkook says, “whatever you want. Anything you want.”
“You can’t say things like that,” Namjoon says with a groan.
Jungkook drops his hands from Namjoon’s shoulders to his thighs, thighs that Jungkook has had a number of thoughts about over the past decade, and squeezes, feeling them flex under his grip. “Anything,” he says again.
Namjoon makes a low noise and Jungkook reaches up to meet him in another kiss. Namjoon shifts back to kiss behind Jungkook’s ear and down the side of his neck. He nibbles just a little at the base of Jungkook's throat. Jungkook digs his hands into Namjoon’s thighs and chokes out his name.
The breath from Namjoon’s laugh sends shivers along Jungkook’s skin in its wake. “Maybe another time,” he says, deep voice full of promise. He lets Jungkook’s head down gently; Jungkook reaches blindly for the nearest couch pillow and shoves it under his head so he can keep looking up at Namjoon, dislodging his hat along the way.
Namjoon slides his hands under Jungkook’s shirt, stroking up softly enough to make Jungkook tremble, down firmly enough to soothe him. He does it again, and again, and the sigh Jungkook hears himself letting out is broken and shivery. Namjoon lifts his head to kiss Jungkook again just as his thumbs brush over Jungkook’s nipples. Jungkook jolts under the feeling and kisses Namjoon back, a little sloppy and unfocused. He’s rubbing his hands up and down Namjoon’s thighs, he realizes. He moves them closer and closer to Namjoon’s groin as Namjoon plays with his nipples and keeps kissing him.
Jungkook is drowning in sensation. He shifts under Namjoon, reaching blindly until he can close his hand over Namjoon’s cock. It’s a solid weight in his hand, and his thumb finds a damp spot in the fabric. Namjoon sucks in a breath and bites Jungkook’s lower lip.
“Off,” Jungkook mumbles into the kiss, tugging on Namjoon’s shorts. “Off, please.”
Namjoon scrambles off the couch and out of his clothes. Jungkook stops in the middle of tugging his sweatpants down to look up at him, mouth going dry. Namjoon is gorgeous, he’s always known that, but like this, flushed and hard and staring down like Jungkook is the best thing he’s ever seen… Jungkook forgets to breathe for a minute.
“Stop looking at me like that and take your clothes off,” Namjoon says.
“I’m never going to stop looking at you like this,” Jungkook says.
“Fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “Clothes, Jungkook-ah.”
Jungkook barely has his clothes kicked to the floor when Namjoon crawls on top of him again, one knee between Jungkook’s. Their cocks brush together and Jungkook hisses at the contact, bucking his hips up.
Jungkook watches, a little dizzy with lust, as Namjoon licks his hand and brings it down to wrap around Jungkook’s - no, around both their cocks, sliding them together. His other hand is bracing himself over Jungkook. Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to Namjoon’s mouth, hanging just a little open, and back up to the wide eyes meeting his.
Namjoon’s eyes look like this when he’s looking at art, Jungkook thinks, and suddenly, absurdly, wants to cry.
Then Namjoon twists his hand around Jungkook’s cock just right and Jungkook is brought back into his body with a crash. He’s breathing so hard it burns around the edges. “Gonna come,” he says. “I--I want--”
“Anything,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook’s orgasm rolls through his body; he might actually be levitating an inch or two off the couch, the way he’s feeling. Namjoon comes not long after, letting out a long sigh and collapsing on top of Jungkook.
It’s hot and sweaty and a little gross and Jungkook never, never wants to move. He wraps his arms around Namjoon and wedges his face into Namjoon’s neck.
“Hey, Namjoon hyung,” he says.
“Mmf,” Namjoon replies.
“Remember when you said you wanted to date me? In public? In front of all of ARMY?”
“Not all of ARMY,” Namjoon says, as if it hasn’t crossed the entire Internet by now.
“Mm-hm,” Jungkook says. “Anyway: yes. You should date me.”
Namjoon lifts his head; Jungkook looks up to see Namjoon’s dimples digging deep into his cheeks. Jungkook brushes a thumb across one, just to feel it. “I think you should date me too,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook beams up at Namjoon. “Okay,” he says, and kisses Namjoon again.
They’re going to have to get up in a minute, he knows. Clean up, have a grown-up conversation about it, tell the group chat. But just one more kiss first.
Or two.