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"Seok-ah," Yoongi whines. He has that look on his face again, like a dog in a movie he's watching is about to die or it's been 30 minutes since he's had Chipotle and he's really starting to feel it. It's not a cute face. Really. "Put it back."
"Why?" Hoseok asks, grinning. "You scared?"
'Yes,' he thinks he hears him say, but Yoongi is turned away from him, grabbing his hoodie off the couch and pulling it over his head, wrapping his fists up in the sleeves. Hoseok might be a little scared, too, but he's the last person that's going to admit that out loud. It's just a Ouija board. How bad can it be.
"At least wait till your parents get home? I mean, it's one thing if we do it in the basement by ourselves, but, I just, I don't think it's a good idea if we're all alone, and-" Yoongi's voice trails off into unintelligible mumbling, muffled into the sleeve of his hoodie. He gnaws on them when he's nervous. It's kinda gross. "Not that I believe in ghosts or anything. Or spirits. But this is stupid."
Hoseok isn't listening, kneeling on the floor and setting the box down, taking out the contents and setting it up. Yoongi changes his angle, leaning back against the arm of the couch, arms crossed. "I mean, this is like little kid stuff. Nobody's done this since like, the sixth grade. You know that one time at summer camp, Taehyung was totally pushing the thingy around? He told me a couple weeks ago."
Hoseok continues setting up the board, picking up the box and flipping it over, reading the bottom. "You're lying," he says flatly. "Tae wasn't pushing the 'thingy' because I was pushing it. And there's no way, I mean, did you see him? He probably wet his pants that night. Does this thing have directions?"
He knows Yoongi's given up when he walks over, squatting down and motioning for Hoseok to hand it to him. "I don't… think so." There's no discernible instructions on the box, and there's nothing else inside except for the board itself and the pusher thingy.
"Should we light candles?" Hoseok suggests, raising his eyebrows. Yoongi bites his lip.
"I think we're supposed to."
10 minutes later Hoseok's phone is on the ground, a wikiHow page pulled up on the screen, and all the candles they could find in the house lit around them.
"My mom's gonna kill me for using the one in her bathroom," Hoseok grumbles, but Yoongi kicks his thigh as he sits down next to him, groaning as he crosses his legs.
"Odd numbers are unlucky. Fact."
Hoseok nods agreeably, and there's a bit of a fumble as they both reach for the pusher (which the wikiHow page actually informs them is called a 'planchette') at the same time.
"Um," Yoongi says, withdrawing his hand quickly. His face glows a little in the candlelight. It's kinda pretty. "Should we, like, hold hands or?"
Hoseok blushes, reaching for his phone and thumbing through the page. "The thing says we should have our… knees touching? But, um, holding hands is fine."
Yoongi takes Hoseok's hand in his, weaving their fingers together easily, and Hoseok picks the board up and rests it on their laps. They're leaning back against the foot of the couch, their thighs pressed together, and Hoseok has never seen anyone in movies do it like this, but it's pretty comfortable, and he likes having Yoongi this close to him. He hasn't let him hold his hand since middle school. At least they lit the candles. "So," Yoongi begins, clearing his throat a little. "Is there, like, an opening ritual, or? Do we have to say something in Latin or something?" The hint of insecurity is showing in his voice, but Hoseok squeezes his hand and he squeezes back.
"The article says… la la la la la… it says, 'Have the medium greet the spirits and affirm that only positive energy is welcome.' So, um, I'll, I'll 'medium', okay?" Yoongi nods softly, gnawing at his sleeve again, and Hoseok turns his phone off, throwing it back on the couch. "So go ahead and, uh, put your other hand on the planchette, and I'll start?"
It feels kind of real, now, and the boys both jump violently when the clock chimes 11, Hoseok tucking his face into Yoongi's neck and he breathes out a laugh. "Okay, okay, holy shit. Let's go." He pauses to clear his throat, and he's unsure how to go about this, not having seen enough teen summer flicks in his short life to do this with enough confidence, but Yoongi rests his head on his shoulder, his breath puffing softly down the front of his shirt, and Hoseok squeezes Yoongi's hand one more time for luck. "If there's a presence here, please make yourself known."
It's silent for a moment, quiet except for the sound of their breathing, and Hoseok barely even registers it when the planchette begins moving, pulling from a direction that he knows isn't him and can't be Yoongi. "Hoseok," Yoongi whispers softly, but the planchette has stopped. Hoseok takes a shaky breath.
"How many spirits are in this room?"
The planchette moves again, sliding across the board to a 3, and Hoseok's heart pounds in his chest. "Hoseok, they're outnumbering us, what the fuck, what the fuck?"
Hoseok turns his head, his breath tousling Yoongi's bangs slightly. "Maybe it's 3 including us, calm down." He takes another deep breath before trying again. "Can you tell us your name?"
No.
Hoseok can't tell who's squeezing the other's hand harder. One of their candles flickers out. "What should me and Yoon do tonight?"
The board is completely unresponsive, and Hoseok swears what feels like minutes crawl by before it begins shifting. "M," Yoongi breathes, craning his neck closer to see. "A, K, holy shit, Seok, it's moving! E, O, U. It stopped. No, no, T. Now it's stopped."
Hoseok frowns, pressing his fingers down on the planchette. It doesn't budge. "Ma-makeo, nah. Make out. Make out? Wait.."
Yoongi bursts out laughing before Hoseok even has it through his head, and he's blushing furiously as the heat from Yoongi's body seems to increase by tenfold. "Oh my GOD, Hoseok, the spirits want us to make out, oh my god, oh my god."
Hoseok huffs, elbowing Yoongi in the side. "Can you clarify, please?"
The planchette begins sliding again.
B O Y O N B O Y
"Boy on b-" Yoongi begins, and he can barely breathe, nearly knocking over the board as he doubles over in laughter. "Shit, shit, one more time."
All that the board says now is '69'.
"God, Yoongi," Hoseok growls, and he doesn't want to be upset, but he knows Yoongi probably knows about the crush he's been harboring since 5th grade, and even if he never expects Yoongi to like him back, the teasing still hurts. "Are you doing this, becau-"
"I'm not, I'm not," Yoongi crows, and he's howling with laughter, the Ouija board fallen off their laps and onto the floor. Whatever.
"Six nine. Maybe it's Namjoon," Hoseok snorts, forcing a smile. "Maybe we should text him and make sure he hasn't died in a car crash or something." He crosses his arms over his chest.
Yoongi smiles. "Yeah, maybe." He leans down to blow out the candles, scooping the board and planchette up off the floor and tossing them into the box in the corner. The smile is still on his face when he crawls back over to Hoseok, but it drops when he notices Hoseok silently fuming. "Hey, hey, are you- I, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, um. I thought maybe that you would-"
"Would what?" Hoseok spits, and he's so bitter, he's obviously bitter. Yoongi can always tell when he's bitter.
Yoongi doesn't bite back, though, just leans in closer, closer, noses brushing, breath mingling as Yoongi kisses him. Hoseok tries not to jolt, forcing himself still and forcing back the whine in his throat because Yoongi's lips are so, so soft, and his eyes are closed so sweetly and he doesn't want to startle him or hurt him or make him stop kissing him. Yoongi's hand comes up to rest on the curve of Hoseok's neck, brushing the back of his knuckles against his neck and Hoseok knows he can feel how fast his pulse is racing.
Hoseok does let out a pitiful whine when Yoongi pulls back, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and looking impossibly pretty as he looks up at Hoseok through his eyelashes. He's still so close, the fringe of their hair almost touching. "I mean," Yoongi hums, looking thoughtful. "If the spirits want us to, right?"
Yoongi tastes like strawberry flavored gum and giggles against his mouth when he runs his tongue across the metal of Hoseok's braces and his hips buck against Hoseok's when the younger sucks his tongue into his mouth, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's waist as Yoongi straddles his thighs. "I'm-I'm hard, Yoongi, I-," Hoseok pants, moaning embarrassingly loud when Yoongi grinds down into his lap to check. They've been making out for 10 minutes, but it feels like hours, could be hours if Yoongi would just put his mouth back on Hoseok's and stop jerking back every time Hoseok moves forward to kiss him. Hours sounds pretty appealing right now.
"Me too," Yoongi purrs, ducking down to lick Hoseok's lips, and Hoseok surges up, relishing in the moan Yoongi lets out as he licks into his mouth, grabbing Hoseok by the collar and holding him back just enough so he can suck on his lower lip. It's addictive, the heat of Yoongi's mouth, and intimidating, considering Hoseok hasn't gotten around to even wanting to kiss anybody else ever since he fell in love with Yoongi. Yoongi knows what he's doing, sucking and nipping and working his lips in a way that has Hoseok's heartbeat pounding all throughout his body, boneless to just lie back and take whatever Yoongi will give him. He's aching, throbbing in his jeans, and he knows Yoongi can feel it, rocking down against it and making these perfect little hiccupy whimpers in the back of his throat. Hoseok doesn't know what he wants other than that he wants to touch him, maybe get his clothes off and make him come and maybe rut his cock against that soft skin and see what his thighs look like covered in cum.
He doesn't realize Yoongi is talking to him until he feels his lips brushing against his cheek, and he tears his eyes off the strip of pretty pale skin between the waistband of his jeans and his t-shirt riding up. "Huh?"
Yoongi giggles softly, ducking down to press a kiss to the crook of Hoseok's neck. "I said, are your braces glow in the dark?"
Hoseok jerks back, blushing, and Yoongi just laughs harder. "I picked them out when I was 14, fuck off."
Yoongi laughs again, pressing wet kisses up the length of his neck, and he doesn't stop shaking against Hoseok until he snakes his hand between them, pressing his hand to the bulge between Yoongi's legs. "Shit," he breathes, bucking his hips forward, and Hoseok scrambles at the fastenings of Yoongi's jeans, yanking the zipper down and shoving his hands into the opening, wanting more, wanting to see Yoongi react like that again. He curls his hand around the outline of his cock through the fabric of his boxers, and Yoongi's breath is steadily growing faster, panting out breaths that make Hoseok's fringe flutter against his forehead and Hoseok squeezes softly, bracing a hand on the small of Yoongi's back and trying to not to groan at the softness of Yoongi's skin and trying not to think about how much he wants to jerk himself off over the cute little dimples above his ass. Yoongi lets out a stuttered little moan, grabbing blindly at Hoseok's forearm and Hoseok is quickly removing both his hands only to loop his fingers in the waistband of his jeans, yanking them down around his thighs along with his boxers, and he loves the broken little whimper Yoongi lets out as his cock jumps against the open air, standing straight out against Hoseok's chest.
Hoseok wraps his fingers around it, pumping it slowly and feeling it pulse in his hand, and when he leans down with his mouth open to taste him, Yoongi jerks back, wrapping his hand around the base and shuddering when the head of his cock accidentally brushes against Hoseok's tongue. "Shit, shit, I can't, I'm not letting your braces near my dick, man," he groans, and Hoseok laughs, letting his head fall back against the couch as he grinds the palm against his erection. Min Yoongi is straddling his lap with his pants pulled down, hand around his gorgeous cock and if Yoongi would just move his hand a little, stroke himself, maybe jerk himself off with frantic, desperate little movements then Hoseok could definitely come in his pants, squeezing his thighs together at the thought. "Have you ever done this before?"
His voice is softer, and little gentler, and Hoseok shakes his head, nibbling at his lower lip. His cheeks are burning. Yoongi rests a hand on his stomach, petting Hoseok through his shirt the way he likes, and the look in his eyes makes Hoseok want to melt. "If it's your first time, we can do whatever you want."
Hoseok considers, fiddling with the fabric at the hem of Yoongi's shirt, and he struggles to make eye contact, sudden insecurity making him want to curl up into a ball and hide in his bed. "I want you naked," Hoseok whispers, and he's even harder in his jeans as Yoongi nods, easing up onto his feet so he can slide his jeans off, one leg at a time, and Hoseok wants, wants so badly when Yoongi is in nothing but a striped t-shirt and his cock is hanging hard and heavy and flushed red, eye-level with Hoseok.
Yoongi kicks his jeans back somewhere into a corner and holds his hands out to help Hoseok onto his feet, and Hoseok can feel Yoongi's cock brushing against his thighs through his blue jeans as he kisses him, licks into his mouth and pushes him gently, gently back onto the couch so Hoseok is sprawled out, half-sitting up. He works his jeans open and Hoseok lifts his hips, helping him ease them down over the swell of his ass and down past his knees before climbing onto his lap, scorching skin against skin, and Hoseok is grateful when Yoongi lets him pull his shirt off, running his hands over Yoongi's nipples and over his ribs and the soft layer of fat over his stomach, and it's gorgeous and addictive until Yoongi's bucking his hips forward, leaning forward to tear Hoseok's shirt off and he ruts his cock against the younger's.
"Can I just," he whispers, tossing Hoseok's shirt back behind him and reaching forward to wrap his fingers around Hoseok's wrist, guiding him until his hand is covering his cock and Yoongi is reaching forward to grab Hoseok's. "Can we," he pants, tightening his fingers around Hoseok's length and pumping it steadily, shuddering throughout his whole body when Hoseok does the same to him. "I'm so hard, I'm so-I'm so close."
Hoseok nods, leaning forward just to nuzzle into the column of Yoongi's neck as he tugs on his length, pumping him faster and faster just to feel Yoongi writhe, letting out a cry as he begins fucking forward into Hoseok's fist, sobbing as he ruts his hips forward. Hoseok is staving off his orgasm as best as he can, Yoongi lazily rubbing his palm against Hoseok's cock as he slips closer to the edge, and Yoongi is shaking when he pushes him away, pressing his hips forward so the underside of his cock is pressed up against Hoseok's. Hoseok bites back a moan, wrapping a large hand around both of them, and it's so, so good, Yoongi rutting forward desperately, rubbing their cocks together with the palm of his hand massaging the precum over the heads even as Hoseok jerks them off simultaneously, and it doesn't take more than a couple seconds before Yoongi goes completely rigid, a sob caught in his throat as his orgasm wracks through his body, his cock pulsing against Hoseok's and Hoseok is gone a moment later, forcing himself to keep his eyes open just to watch the way Yoongi's mouth forms around those pretty little moans.
"Yoongi," Hoseok groans, jerking them both through it, and Yoongi shivers in sensitivity before he does, crying softly as he pries himself away, bracing a hand on Hoseok's shoulder and leaning forward until Hoseok's head is pressed against his chest, closing his eyes and trying to catch his breath with the steady beat of Yoongi's heart against his forehead. Yoongi brings his hand up, covered in cum, and Hoseok tries to ignore the way his cock twitches at the sound of Yoongi slurping around his fingers. "Yoon, lemme down."
Yoongi crawls off his lap, letting Hoseok slump down onto his back on the couch, only to have Yoongi straddle him again, easing down onto his forearms and nuzzling into Hoseok's mouth until he opens up for him, shivering at Yoongi's tongue sliding against his. There's something else, a flavor he doesn't recognize, and god, it's his cum, Yoongi has his own cum in his mouth, oozing out of his cock and licking it off his hands and kissing it into Hoseok's mouth, and Hoseok hates that that makes him so hard all over again, rutting his cock against Yoongi's soft thigh pressed between his legs. "You like that?" Yoongi laughs, and Hoseok just groans, pressing his face into the couch cushions. Yoongi makes up for the teasing in soft kisses pressed against his neck and Hoseok thinks he likes this even more than the way Yoongi pets him when he's sleepy or stressed or upset. He may have to start asking for this.
It's familiar somehow, just the two of them, cuddled on top of each other the way they used to when they were freshman and before people used to tease them about how close they were, until they stopped, stopped sharing each other's clothes, brushing hands in the hallway, whispering secrets with their lips pressed against each other's ears. They never stopped caring, though.
"Hoseok," Yoongi murmurs, sleepy and content and pressed against the crook of his neck, and Hoseok hums in acknowledgment. They need to clean up and get their clothes on before his parents get home. "I've wanted this for a long time." The confession aches, filling Hoseok up until it feels like he might burst, fogging his head and feeling an awful lot like love, and he tightens his arms around Yoongi's small frame. "I didn't just kiss you because the spirits told me to or whatever."
Hoseok laughs.