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Yoongi has had a long fucking day.
He woke up at 4am despite going to bed only two hours before; danced his way through Hoseok’s distressed sighs for five hours; and sat silently through three different interviews as Jin and Jungkook stretched across him to hit each other repeatedly. He wants some fucking quiet. He needs to be alone.
Now, finally in his studio, he’s ready to do just that. The moment he locks the door every muscle in his body unclenches and he feels himself being pulled to his office chair, sinking into the soft cushions. He dazedly kicks his feet in slow circles to spin the chair around around before letting out a big sigh, slowing to a stop, and lifting his head to face the computer screen.
It doesn’t take long for everything to fall into place after that.
He opens the folder he’s got stashed away. A folder inside a folder inside another folder. Opens the video, and hits play.
As moans fill the room he reaches down past his belt, his mind practically on autopilot. He’s entranced, eyes fixated on the screen, palming his cock through his jeans. He’s just starting to pull apart the button when he’s knocked back to reality, quite literally.
Knock knock knock
Fuck.
He pauses the video and his hands fall to his sides as his head rolls back along the chair. Completely pulled out of his headspace, he turns to check the door - the knob is turned to indicate its locked.
Fuck them, they’ll go away.
He sinks further into his chair and starts the video again, bringing his hands back to where he was just getting started…
Knock knock knock
“FUCK OFF!” He growls. But the knocking continues. He stands up and straightens himself out a little before walking over to the door and and swinging it open. “What the fuck do you want?”
Before he has a chance to register who it is, Namjoon strides right past Yoongi and sits down on the black leather sofa, already mid sentence. “And we haven’t even gotten to mixing yet! We can’t even get to the bridge! Right as we wrapped up the second verse he had the audacity to say -” he looks over to Yoongi still standing in the doorway and pauses. “Hyung, are you gonna just stand there?”
Yoongi’s blood still hasn’t returned to his brain so it takes him a moment to catch up to the scene in front of him. His eyes shift quickly from Namjoon sitting on the couch to the screen behind him where a very explicit video had only been paused in his rush to get the intruder away from his door. Namjoon follows his line of sight.
Yoongi bolts to the computer but it’s too late. The small grin creeping onto Namjoon’s face is evidence that he’d caught a glimpse before the window was minimized. Namjoon’s eyes move from the computer, to Yoongi, to the now very obvious bulge in Yoongi’s pants.
“Hyung, what were you doing in here?” His voice nudges him, teases.
“What the fuck do you want Namjoon? I’m busy.” He deadpans.
“Yeah, I can tell,” he laughs. God, Yoongi hates that shit eating grin so fucking much. Namjoon is already relaxing into the couch, which is exactly the opposite of what Yoongi wants him to be doing right now. “Honestly hyung, I’m a little relieved. You all gave me so much shit for having lotion next to my desk, even though I tried to explain that…”
“Namjoon. We all know what the lotion is for.” He cuts him off, turns, and sits down in his chair once more before turning away. He prays silently that being rude will make him go away faster. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to - “
“Let’s see it then.”
Yoongi lets out a scoff, his hand on the mouse. “See what?”
“Show me what you’re watching. I’m curious. Are there any actresses I’d know?”
Yoongi freezes. Silence.
Actresses. Of course he’d think that.
“No, there aren’t.” He tries to say calmly. “And I’m not showing you - “
“Oh come on. We used to share porn all the time at the old studio, can’t you just show me? Might be one I’ve already seen!” He asks as though this isn’t a huge invasion of Yoongi’s privacy.
“Joon-ah, I really don’t think you understand.”
“Hyung.” There’s a sudden shift in Namjoon’s tone. Yoongi turns to look at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness, only to find that his eyes look unusually focused. A complete 180 from the babbling mess sitting on his couch just moments ago. He sounds….stern.
“Show me.” Namjoon holds the stare as if daring Yoongi to look away.
What the fuck. The sudden shift has Yoongi freezing and melting all at once, and the shock of his own bodies response to his friends words is the only way he can think to justify what he does next.
Without looking back, he reaches forward and hits the spacebar on his keyboard, letting the video play.
The filthy sounds of sex fill the room but he finds that he can’t turn away from his friend. Watching Namjoon’s face, his steady gaze as it looks past Yoongi towards the screen.
Namjoon’s smile slowly fades into a rounded shape of surprise as he realizes what he’s seeing.
“You’re watching gay porn?” He asks softly, he sounds almost sorry. Yoongi’s heart sinks into his chest.
“No Namjoon, I’m doing research for a thesis paper.” He rolls his eyes at the younger man to cover the hurt. Then turns away, blocking the red of his face from view. “Yes, that’s obviously what I’m doing.”
Namjoon immediately straightens up and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes boring into the back of Yoongi’s head. Willing him to turn back and look at him. When the silence becomes too strong, he does eventually turn back around. They lock eyes once more.
Namjoon seems filled with something sad. Regret? Yoongi can’t place it. All he knows is that it hurts a little. Better than anger he guesses. But to feel judged by the person that’s supposed to be your best friend… “Look, Im sorry hyung, I realize why you were uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, well…” he trails off. He doesn’t know why he’s upset. It’s just porn. The guys all know he’s bi, this isn’t new information for Namjoon. But for some reason he feels fear seeping into his skin. Fear of what? He’s not sure. Maybe its just years of repression and guilt bubbling up as his closest friend witnesses a private moment, by his own sheer force of will.
He forces himself to look up at Namjoon, but is surprised when he finds that the man isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s once again leaning back into the couch with his eyes fixed on the screen. The strange look is gone. He doesn’t seem upset or disgusted, he looks relaxed. His arms raise to rest along the back of the couch and he leans back further. There’s a small smile in the corner of his mouth. He looks….into it.
Yoongi turns back to the screen and leans back, hiding himself in the chair. If Namjoon wants to sit and watch porn, he has his own studio. Why does he have to do it right here? Right now? Is it just curiosity that has him glued to his seat? And why isn’t Yoongi kicking him out now that this is obviously awkward and inappropriate? Yoongi’s thoughts run away from him and he can’t seem to land on any one thought in particular, his mind racing with anxiety as he starts to spiral. Foggy words pull his brain back into the moment.
“What did you say?” He asks Namjoon.
“Were you touching yourself?”Namjoon repeats, his chin lowered, something dark in his eyes fixating on Yoongi and making him squirm in his seat.
Yoongi scoffs in response. “No! I hadn’t even star…no Joon-ah.” He lies. Their breaths are growing heavier, filling the silence between them. Or maybe Yoongi’s just imagining things.
“Were you about to touch yourself?” Namjoon asks in that same even tone. Questioning, but not giving any indication of where he’s going with this.
“I mean,” he pauses, then laughs a little, looking around, landing anywhere but that dark stare waiting for him. “That was kind of the plan.” Why won’t he just leave already, can’t he feel how awkward this is?!
“Can you show me?”
Yoongi jerks his head to meet the gaze of the man sitting in front of him. “Show you?” He breathes the words. Namjoon’s leaning forward on the couch again, chin resting in his hands, but his eyes are wide, seeming to realize what he’s said after he’s already asked. Yoongi’s jaw is on the floor. He’s stunned into silence. A moment passes before Namjoon speaks again. Namjoon seems to collect himself quickly though.
“Yes, hyung…” the stern tone is back, dark and staccato. He sounds like he’s explaining something to a child. Like he’s treading softly, but growing impatient. “Show me.”
The words send a shiver through Yoongi. He snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head quickly bring him out of whatever fever dream he must be in, snap him back into reality.
“Hyung.” Namjoon’s eyes bore themselves into Yoongi and he finds that he can’t focus on anything else, his mind has stopped racing and he’s entirely caught up in the mans gaze. “Show me how you touch yourself.”
There’s a moment when his brain short circuits. His eyes close and his head falls back into the chair. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He doesn’t know why his cock is fattening up at the words of his best friend. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should just kick Namjoon out and chalk it up to being exhausted from a long day of practices and studios.
“Why?” The words come out like a whisper. His voice unrecognizable to himself, affected.
“Because I told you to.” Namjoon simply shrugs and leans back into the cushions once more, both arms resting again on the back of the couch. And Yoongi finds that that’s all he needs.
“Fuck.” His head falls back against the chair. “Okay.” He reaches down and finally pops the button of his jeans, pulling them down just far enough to pull out his cock. He’s just wrapped his hand around it when he’s cut off.
“Wait.” Namjoon says breathily, clearly surprised at himself and what he’s seeing in front of him. “Turn towards me. I want to look at you.”
Yoongi doesn’t say a word. He just does as he’s told. Turns, then sits there holding himself. He’s unsure of the mans reaction, eyes still closed, head still leaning back against the chair, but he can feel the other’s eyes all over him. Drinking him in. It’s almost too much. But he knows he can’t think about this too hard. He doesn’t want to think right now. He just wants to do what he’s told.
“You’re so pretty hyung.” Namjoon says in amazement, as if he’s realizing this for the first time. After another moment of silence he just says. “You can move.”
And Yoongi does. He starts to stroke himself slowly, still a little sore and pent up from being interrupted before. He opens his eyes and see’s movement in his peripheral vision, realizing that the video is still playing. The man on screen is on his knees in front of the other, his tongue flat as it hangs out of his mouth begging for the other man to put his cock on it.
He looks forward and sees Namjoon glancing between the screen and Yoongi and its enough to make him groan softly as he throws his head back once more.
His hand picks up its pace as he pushes to reach his climax. The pressure building in his stomach and pulling tight like a string. Just a few more strokes and he’ll be there.
“Stop.” He hears from across the room. The voice quiet, but the tone so demanding he immediately lets go of himself and his hands fly onto the arms of the chair for support.
“What?” He breathes out heavily. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want you to come yet.” Namjoon shrugs and he relaxes once more into the cushions, throwing his arms across the back.
A loud whine escapes Yoongi’s lips as he shifts in his seat. “Why not?!” He asks incredulously.
“Because I said I don’t want you to come yet. Take it slow.”
And Yoongi doesn’t know why that’s enough. He doesn’t know why those words make him suddenly melt once more into the chair and wrap his hand around himself to pick up the slow pace he had started earlier before Namjoon arrived.
Namjoon isn’t even touching himself. He can see him on the couch. He’s clearly turned on from the scene, obvious from the large (holy shit) bulge in his pants. But he’s not touching himself.
“Namjoon….” Yoongi whines out the younger’s name.
“What do you need, baby?” Warmth creeps into his skin at the pet name and he finds himself unable to filter any of his words.
“Don’t make me do this alone.” He pleads.
Namjoon seems to realize at that point that he’s hard. He looks down at his pants and you can see the moment his brain snaps to attention. He had been so caught up in the scene that he hadn’t even touched himself yet.
He chuckles softly to himself and Yoongi balks at the apparent amount of control the older man has over himself.
Namjoon brings his hands down to his thighs and drags up to press against himself, a loud moan filling the room at the pressure.
Yoongi can’t help but speed up his movements at the sound. His friends deep voice the only thing he can hear in the room. It’s then he realizes the video has stopped, run its course. His friend is touching himself and his eyes are fixed on Yoongi.
“Like what you see baby?” Yes. He does like what he sees. He looks up to Namjoon to find the man smirking once more, and the fact that Namjoon can so clearly read him pisses him off.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He balks.
“Yeah, but you’ve never seen me like this have you?” He asks simply. “I’m so hard right now, all because of you.” But before Yoongi can reply Namjoon stops touching himself and instead focuses again on Yoongi’s movements. He whines again.
“So cute.” Namjoon laughs at Yoongi’s impatience. “But this isn’t about me.” HIs voice trails lower as his eyes scan Yoongi.
“Fuck.” Yoongi can himself getting close as he watches Namjoon eyes tracing over Yoongis body in the chair across the room. “I’m - so close Namjoon. Fuck I’m gonna..”
“No,” Namjoon says, staring deep into Yoongi’s eyes. “You’re not. Stop.”
Yoongi can’t peel his eyes away from the heavy weight pressing against Namjoon’s zipper. Namjoon looks so good. It’s all too good.
“I said stop, baby.” Namjoon’s soft command rumbles from deep in his chest and Yoongi immediately lets go, his hips still moving as his hips jerk forward, attempting to chase the disappearing waves of pleasure.
“Fuck! Why Namjoon?” He’s practically crying as he begs to finish.
Namjoon chuckles again. “You haven’t said please.”
The final piece of control that Yoongi had maintained is lost in a second at those words.
“Please! Fuck, pleaaaase. Namjoon-ah.” His hand has found its way back to stroking, but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind, finally letting him have this. “Please can I cum? I need it. I need you to - “
“Okay,” Namjoon purrs as he stares transfixed at Yoongi, sweating and panting in the oversized chair. “Cum for me.”
Yoongi breaks at the words, tremors wracking his body one after another as the pleasure sinks its way into every nerve in his body. Thick trails of cum land on his shirt and slowly seep in as he works himself through his orgasm. His body jerking one last time before going completely lax in the chair, sinking into it as though he were dead.
He’s dazed, sweating. His mind is blank and he’s just lying there, panting in his chair with his pants at his knees and eyes closed as his mind races to catch up to the world around him. That was possibly the hardest he’s ever cum in his life. His best friend made him cum harder than he ever had before.
The clarity hits him hard and sudden, jerking him instantly back into the present moment. He reluctantly opens his eyes and see’s Namjoon standing in front of the couch, hand in his pants to adjust himself, before he’s walking towards the door.
“Wait - Joonah,” What the fuck is he doing? “Where are you going?!”
“Thanks hyung,” Namjoon just flashes a giant grin at his elder. He stretches his arms wide above his head before dropping them with a heavy, relaxed sigh. Then with all of the sincerity in the world says, “I really needed that.”
Then he walks out the door.
Yoongi will panic about that particular crisis later. Right now, he’s got to pull up his pants and find a new shirt.