Archive of Our Own ^beta

when jeon jeongguk looks at min yoongi he thinks of the endless blue where the sky kisses the sea. he can feel the warmth on his skin and the salty breeze tousling his hair. he tastes the aperol spritz on the beach while droplets of water trace cool paths down both the glasses and his soft, milky skin shimmering with the sun rays.

time drifts lazily as the clouds above them do the same. when jeon jeongguk looks at min yoongi, the world is suddenly a canvas of bright hues. azure skies and emerald waves, the exact same colors of love. ivory seafoam in the waves that gently caress the shore paired with fiery orange tangerines, and each sip of him is a burst of citrus and sweetness. he can’t get enough.

jeon jeongguk looks at min yoongi and he falls in love again and again and again and again and again and again—

PARIS.

“i think you should make a move on him.”

reality is always a little harsher than a daydream. jeongguk spent a little too long staring at min yoongi again, didn’t he? he doesn’t even realize it when he’s doing it these days. and yet he doesn’t mind being so careless.

“on who?” he asks, feigning innocence. he does it very well—pretending he isn’t in love with yoongi. because min yoongi is a model, and jeon jeongguk is his makeup artist. that’s the type of stuff people get fired for, and jeongguk happens to really like his job, thank you very much.

“you know exactly who,” yunjin says, squinting her eyes playfully at him.

“don't squint your eyes like this, it’s gonna crease and you’re gonna ruin my hard work,” jeongguk reprimands, resuming to blending the lilac blush to the highest point of her cheekbones.

“i'm so sorry,” a blank expression takes over her features as she speaks in a serious tone. too serious to, in fact, be serious. “you’re just avoiding my question, though,” she adds in between her teeth.

“what’s wrong with having a little crush?” jeongguk asks, a small smile dancing on his lips. calling it ‘a little crush’ is diminishing it severely. what jeongguk feels for yoongi has yet to be named.

“ha!” she exclaims, snapping her fingers. “i knew you had a crush. i mean, you look at him like you wanna swallow him whole, so it’s not that surprising.”

“i do?” jeongguk asks. fine, perhaps he really should be more aware of his facial expressions while at work. he needs to get a grip. it doesn’t help that yoongi is right there, though. almost begging to be looked at. to be swallowed whole.

“oppa…” she smirks. “come on. be fucking serious.”

“what do you want me to say?” jeongguk asks. “yeah, the guy is attractive. fucking gorgeous. but this is my job, i’m his makeup artist. there’s a line i simply cannot cross…”

…and that means he should really try to stop his brain from waxing poetic about the guy during work hours. it’s just counterproductive at this point.

“okay, okay. i understand,” she says. “i'll shut up now, we don’t want to draw his attention. i’ll also stop with the compromising questions before you poke me in the eye with that brush. you look very intimidating right now. like that thing could very quickly become a weapon.”

“you know i’d never do that to you, my love,” jeongguk grins at her. he grabs the setting spray bottle and says, “close your eyes and hold your breath now, please.” yunjin does as she's told and he sprays it all over her face, the sweet scent of the mist filling the air. he uses a hand fan to dry it immediately after, taking a second to admire his finished work; truly one of the best ones he’s ever done. 

jeongguk is like fine wine. he only gets better as the days go by.

huh yunjin, who, like min yoongi, is also a model, will be wearing a gorgeous celestial dress to the fashion show. when jeongguk saw it in person earlier that day, he knew he needed to go all out and give her a full sparkly starry look, to truly make her stand out among the sea of people she’s going to be in the middle of.

yunjin has a blend of lavender and blue shadows spreading from her eyes to her cheeks, with hand drawn stars and constellations in white. paired with a rosy nude lip and holographic glitter all over her lids, she’s a cosmic vision ready for the camera flashes.

yunjin looks so beautiful that people are gonna think she’s photoshopped, because jeongguk is just that good at his job. and he likes it way too much to risk losing it over a man, no matter how gorgeous and swallowable he might look.

“you can look in the mirror now,” jeongguk says, twirling her in the spinning chair in a dramatic motion.

yunjin looks at her reflection in the mirror and her eyes widen as she shouts, “holy shit! jeon jeongguk!”

“do you like it?” jeongguk asks with a small smile tugging his lips.

“like it? i fucking love it. you're fucking amazing,” she says, hugging his arm in a weird angle in order not to mess up her hair. “i'm already dreading the time i’ll have to take it all off. i wanna look like this forever.”

“i know,” jeongguk replies with a shrug. “it will last forever in the pictures, though.”

“smug fucker,” she snarks. “make a move on him! he’d be crazy to deny you!” yunjin says as she stands up, ready to move to the next room and change into her dress.

“alright, maybe i will,” jeongguk whispers close to her ear, earning a throaty laugh from her, who just waves goodbye excitedly as she leaves.

making a move on min yoongi. doesn’t that sound crazy?

jeongguk has done yoongi’s make-up before yunjin’s, so the man is already dressed up in his designer clothes, and is just sitting in a corner of the room while scrolling on his phone, probably waiting for a car to take him straight to the fashion show. they’re not alone; the room is still filled with people going from one side to the other while carrying around perfectly ironed clothes and shiny shoes.

to say that yoongi looks so beautiful is an understatement. it’s always a struggle for jeongguk to even know what to do on his face, since he doesn’t have any flaws. a few dilated pores on his nose and a chickenpox scar on his forehead are the only things jeongguk ever attempts to cover with concealer, not because he thinks they aren’t attractive, but by request. jeongguk thinks it’s part of what makes yoongi look like a real person.

if it were up to jeongguk, he would have yoongi to walk around barefaced at all times. it should be a crime to do anything to his face. he’s so gorgeous that it bears intimidation. he’s so gorgeous that he has jeongguk holding his breath without noticing when they’re near. he’s so gorgeous that any exchange of looks is enough to send jeongguk’s mind racing to another dimension with a billion thoughts, none of which are appropriate to have about a coworker in their workplace.

with a heavy sigh, jeongguk gathers his materials scattered all around the table; makeup brushes, powder puffs, eyelash curlers. yoongi seemingly pays him no mind, sitting on the other side of the room, immersed in his own thoughts.

once done, jeongguk gives a side glance one more time, just for good measure, before he leaves the room. the thought of talking to yoongi crosses his mind, but a whole crew of people with cameras and lights enter the room to film him, just as jeongguk is gathering the courage within himself to… say good luck? break a leg? what is appropriate to say to a model right before a paris fashion week show, anyway?

xx

(it happened over a year ago. it happened in paris. that was the first time jeon jeongguk ever laid his eyes on min yoongi. the sight of yoongi’s understated elegance and enigmatic aura left jeongguk breathless. and  he quite literally gasped.

it was embarrassing. duh. but luckily yoongi didn’t notice. he was standing very far away, and jeongguk had the time to quickly recompose himself and come up with a greeting, mustering all his charm and nonchalance in a desperate attempt to allure yoongi in any way he saw fit. inappropriate from the very start, but what could he do about it?

jeongguk got introduced to him as ‘the very best makeup artist you’ll ever have’, which made him blush terribly, which yoongi acknowledged with a casual nod. he then said, “you better perform miracles,” to which jeongguk almost scoffed right to his face, because what the fuck? what miracle could that face ever need?

then, yoongi’s manager labeled him as ‘seoul’s rising star,’ and jeongguk was stunned, completely over the moon that he had such a flawless canvas to work with. he had no idea how he could beautify the man even more, though. little did he know.

min yoongi, he thought back then, and to this day it still echoes in his mind, the name itself a reflection of his captivating beauty. pretty face, and pretty name to match.)

xx

the eiffel tower shimmers, and beneath jeongguk’s eyes the flashlights are strobing and blinding, to the point the retinas get black spots until minutes after they stop flashing. it’s the same feeling as entering a bustling city where the streets are lined with the shiniest billboards, the air charged with an electrifying buzz. 

it’s a sight that never fails to fascinate him. 

the models being swept into a sea of photographers as they approach the venue, their voices rising above the clamor of the crowd and the cacophony of camera shutters and high heels on the floor. voices shout but they aren’t really heard, they belong to no one in particular; it’s like they echo into the void.

that’s just the tip of the iceberg. once inside, it gets even crazier. and it can get too much, overwhelming in a way that only few people can handle. this job isn’t for anyone. jeongguk isn’t one of those people. which is why he chose to be away from the spotlight, away from the flashes of photographers and paparazzis. 

in all fairness, jeongguk could have become a model if he wanted to. he has the most important part of the equation: the looks. he’s attractive in his own way, but he wouldn’t be able to bear the attention of hundreds of people at the same time. he’s way too shy for that. how could he handle so many eyes observing his every move, waiting for him to collapse? in this world, people rarely root for another person's success. it’s always for their downfall.

it’s a glamorous lifestyle, without a shadow of a doubt. there’s something about the allure of the fashion world gleaming with prestige that draws people in. the truth, however, is far from that. the behind the scenes is so far from such superficial splendor. behind the veil of elegance, lies the reality of tireless effort and unseen struggles. it’s all so carefully hidden from the spotlight’s glare.

it’s chaotic and full of secrets, some more accepted than others. despite these things reigning backstage—where stylists, makeup artists, and designers hustle feverishly to perfect every detail—it’s also addicting in a way that draws jeongguk more and more into it as the days go by. 

jeongguk has always been drawn to beauty. to him, it isn’t about hiding the parts you don’t like, but owning up to the parts that you do love. to wear your skin proudly and confidently. to beautify what’s already beautiful. he thoroughly enjoys creating magic with his bare hands. he likes painting pretty on other people's faces, like they’re a blank canvas and he’s freaking claude monet. (if claude monet was a 21st century korean gay man with a fuckass bob and covered in piercings and tattoos, of course.)

out of all the art forms jeongguk has tried, this is the one he can express himself more freely. this is the one he loves wholeheartedly, that fills him with the most joy. he thrives in the midst of the madness, savoring the electricity that pulses through hectic corridors. he enjoys being a part of it, but keeping a somewhat comfortable distance.

and amidst the blinding lights and the shouting voices, there’s a face that shines the brightest of all. someone who brings out the quiet in the loud madness.

being a model takes a level of apathy that jeongguk simply doesn’t possess, but min yoongi does. he can stand in front of countless cameras with a blank expression on his face. he can shut down their loud voices and the camera shutter sounds. if he ever feels overwhelmed or anxious about it, he doesn’t ever let it show; he sports a comfortable familiarity that jeongguk almost envies.

min yoongi embodies everything that jeongguk admires the most. and he wants him. badly. embarrassingly. all the time. 

xx

much to jeongguk's disappointment, there isn’t a single moment in the entire trip where he and yoongi are left alone. paris fashion week is always the most hectic, but specially this time around it’s been nothing but work and a whirlwind of stolen glances and fleeting moments. not once has he found the opportunity to, quote unquote, make a move like yunjin had suggested.

what yunjin doesn’t know is that jeongguk has made so many moves, it’s like he’s a freaking chess player. alas, at the end of the day they’re both so tired, it’s impossible to do anything. even if jeongguk is dying to.

the round table before him is cluttered with empty bottles and half-drunk glasses, remnants of a celebration for a flawless showing. the crew’s laughter hums in the background. they’re all just really fucking happy to have finished paris successfully, without any wardrobe malfunctions or other tiny disasters.

there are still other cities upcoming in their calendar for the next few months, the season is far from over. but for now, they let themselves bask into this moment. the next stop is seoul, and seoul is home, so that’s enough for them to go by.

yoongi sits next to him, close enough that jeongguk can smell his perfume. they’re alone, but not quite. they’re surrounded by people, but no one’s paying attention to them at all. no one’s listening. through the faint haze of champagne and adrenaline, jeongguk decides to speak.

“you looked gorgeous today, hyung.”

a glimpse of something tender flashes in yoongi’s eyes, too brief for anyone else but jeongguk to notice. his face remains composed, unreadable, as per usual. “did i?” he asks, taking a measured sip of his drink.

“yes,” jeongguk says firmly. “you always do.”

“hmm,” yoongi hums, tilting his head slightly. “you think so?”

“i know so.”

yoongi's eyelashes flutter prettily, long and delicate, catching the dim light like they're made of gold. “you flatter me, jeongguk-ah.”

“it's just the truth.”

“then you should let me know about that more often,” yoongi says, his tone casual, but the words drip with something heavier, something loaded.

jeongguk’s breath hitches. “i should?”

“i mean, if you really think so.”

it feels exhilarating to flirt with yoongi. jeongguk can’t really tell if it’s the champagne or yoongi’s proximity that’s making his head spin. he smells like citrus and wood and vanilla. he smells rich. jeongguk’s heartbeat races in his chest all the same. “don't you hear that all the time, though?” he manages to say.

“not from you,” yoongi murmurs, inching ever so slightly closer. “at least not when there are other people around.”

of course jeongguk isn’t going to do it when it’s dangerous to do so. not when the line between them is so thin it could snap at any second.

“i would hate for you to get too cocky, hyung,” he responds, a smirk taking over his face.

yoongi also smirks, lips crooking and eyes crinkling. “your ego is already big enough for the both of us, isn’t it?”

“something like that,” jeongguk answers, ignoring the way his cheeks start to flush scarlet red.

“what do you think abou--” yoongi begins to say, but is abruptly interrupted by a very intoxicated kim taehyung, who materializes out of nowhere and stumbles towards their table.

“yoongi hyung!” taehyung hiccups, practically throwing himself onto yoongi’s shoulder. “i’ve just been informed that there’s a pole here. so you have to come with me.”

“why in the absolute fuck,” yoongi sighs, “would i join you at a pole?”

taehyung looks at him like yoongi just asked the most ridiculous question. “for pole dancing.”

jeongguk’s brain immediately taps out. he quickly entertains himself with his forgotten drink left on the table. the mental image of yoongi pole dancing is something he doesn’t need right now. he already tries to ignore the way his brain spirals every time yoongi so much as walks, let alone imagining him in that position.

“i don’t do pole dancing, taehyung-ah,” yoongi says. “i don’t dance, period.”

“oh, but you do dance! and you’d be a really fucking good pole dancer actually!” taehyung grabs yoongi’s arm and tries to tug him out of the chair, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “hyung, come on. live a little.”

jeongguk can practically hear the ‘oh no’ echo in his brain. why did taehyung have to bring this up? he could think of at least ten other things he’d rather focus on than this. ten. or maybe... just one. yoongi on a pole. no. focus.

it seems like taehyung won’t take no for an answer, as he keeps showering yoongi with arguments as to why this is an excellent idea.

“fine,” yoongi finally gives in. “why don’t you get going and i’ll join you in a little bit?”

“yay!” taehyung grins, raising his arms triumphantly. “let me go find jimin!” and then he leaves just as quickly as he appeared.

“you’re going to dance. on a pole. interesting,” jeongguk teases.

“god, no,” yoongi scoffs, as if the thought alone is too deranged. “i only said that so he would leave me alone. he’s gonna go back in there, find jimin and they’ll get so caught up in each other they’ll forget that i exist.”

jeongguk wants to get so caught up into yoongi that he forgets his own name.

“but he’s kinda right,” jeongguk says. “you’d look good, yoongi hyung.”

“fuck, not you too,” yoongi whines, rubbing his temples like the thought is too much for him to bear. “why are you all trying to make me suffer? is this some kind of a plot against me that i’m not aware of? i swear to god…”

jeongguk's mind is a haze of blah blah blah as he tunes out yoongi's words, too caught up in the way his lips move with each word, so pink and plump and perfect and kissable.

yoongi’s gaze flickers to his lips, and for a split second, jeongguk knows he’s thinking the same thing. but then yoongi snaps his focus back. “jeongguk-ah. if you don’t mind, i'm going to hide in the bathroom now.”

“okay,” jeongguk answers. he watches as yoongi rises to his feet and leaves, unable to reach for his hand and ask him to stay just a little longer.

almost instantly, jeongguk starts to follow him to the bathroom. but by the time he reaches the door, he feels absolutely crazy. what the hell does he think he’s doing? no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that people aren’t going to notice, he knows they will.

so he finds his way to the pole taehyung mentioned instead. a few people are gathered around it, clapping excitedly at other’s attempts to spin on it, following the beat of the songs playing on the speakers, the lights from the club hitting the disco balls and casting a dreamy glow on them.

everyone’s dancing and having a lot of fun. their unofficial after parties right after the official ones are undoubtedly the best part of fashion week. they just know how to enjoy a night out.

jeongguk spots kim taehyung and park jimin taking turns spinning on the pole. taehyung laughs and smiles brightly, and jimin jokingly goes under him, until they’re a mess of giggles laying on top of each other.

taehyung and jimin not so jokingly start to kiss right after. but they can do it, it’s alright, because they’re both models. there’s no conflict of interest between them, or whatever. in between giggles, they split apart, jimin taking another person from the crew by the hand and dancing happily with her, with taehyung joining right after.

they’re all beautiful. all of these people and the way they express themselves so freely. the way they live so loudly and fearlessly. they’re such a huge part of why jeongguk loves this job so much. he loves this crew so dearly.

then, yoongi steps into view, his silhouette immediately drawing jeongguk’s attention. taehyung is also quick to spot him, screaming right away, “hyung! fucking finally! get your ass over here!”

the rest of the group follows suit, chanting yoongi’s name, urging him forward. jeongguk watches, heart racing as yoongi steps forward, dragged by jimin. the moment he enters the circle, he hesitates, eyes darting down to the floor. it’s like he’s contemplating all of his life choices.

yoongi hides his face behind his hands, but not before jeongguk catches the soft pink hue blooming across his cheeks. the way yoongi shifts nervously, biting his lip—it drives jeongguk insane. he can’t look away.

then, with a swift movement, yoongi spins on the pole once. it’s quick, almost apologetic, like he’s just trying to get it over with. the crew erupts into cheers, clapping and shouting his name, but yoongi’s already backing away.

the lights catch yoongi’s face just as he runs, his blush impossible to miss, and jeongguk can’t help but laugh softly, the sound low, barely escaping. he’s completely and utterly foolish, standing here, watching yoongi and feeling this unshakable, aching pull. there are a billion reasons for him to be this in love, this desperate. so, here he is, knee deep in this mess.

SEOUL.

jeongguk is towering around the entrance of the venue when yoongi arrives at the show. his presence is much anticipated, one of the most important names of the night, obviously. the cameras flash incessantly, the lights are strobing and blinding, but they dance on yoongi’s face and reflect on the rings on his ear and chains on his neck. everyone wants to catch a glimpse of him.

and jeongguk—he’s mesmerized, despite the fact that he has already seen yoongi prior to this moment. it’s just that he looks so different under these lights, when he’s locked in fully in his element.

for this event, jeongguk just did a simple look on him. there’s not a lot going on with the eyeshadow, and he only used the complexion products to hide one or another red spots on yoongi’s face, covering the faintest hint of dark circles under his eyes. he didn’t use a lot of face powder in order not to mattify yoongi’s natural tendency to shine. a honeysuckle lip tint on his lips, a hint of espresso brown pencil to make his eyebrows even sharper, and that was it. 

yoongi's long, black hair adorns his face perfectly, naturally parted in the middle with loose strands standing in place with a little help from hair spray.

the process of doing yoongi’s makeup and hair doesn’t require much time at all. however, jeongguk deliberately tries to extend the duration of it, just to spend more time with him, devoting more attention to touching his skin than any other professional would.

in all fairness, it would be impossible to work with min yoongi and not fall in love with him; not when jeongguk is so close to his face, memorizing every crease on his eyes and every charming mole on his cheeks. it’s not forbidden, but he just shouldn’t. and yet this is where he finds himself. unable to contain it. unable to pretend like the want isn’t there, relentlessly consuming.

it’s not that common for jeongguk to have the opportunity to hang around to watch the fashion show and be part of the official after party, but tonight, because it’s seoul fashion week, it happens. and so he stands there on the balcony, silently observing everything happening from a distance.

all the models jeongguk had the opportunity to style tonight look amazing. kim taehyung’s face card is insane as usual. park jimin has photographers audibly swooning when he comes near. kim seokjin gets yelled at from the minute he leaves his car, and is already trending on social media for being too handsome.

but min yoongi—he’s a monochromatic vision in a light brown suit and creamy camel blouse, a long bow necktie and  showing off a little bit of his chest skin, a hardware necklace and hoop earrings. breathtakingly gorgeous. he has valentino written all over him, the brand just matches his vibe perfectly.

a little bit to the left! turn your head a little bit, please! perfect, thank you! the voices shout, the cameras flash, the lights blind, and yoongi poses for them, giving more than what they ask for. he does effortlessly. in all of his intimidatingly beautiful glory.

and jeongguk wants him so fucking bad.

the second yoongi walks into any room, jeongguk can almost feel his legs start trembling uncontrollably with want. sometimes he dozes off while looking at him.

if it’s pathetic, he doesn’t care. he’s down bad. because when yoongi speaks, jeongguk hangs onto every word, his eyes tracing the curve of his lips as they move, imagining the feel of them under his own. even the slightest touch from yoongi when they’re working sends a jolt through jeongguk's body, a mix of desire and frustration pooling in his gut. he can’t help but be drawn to yoongi’s confidence, the way he carries himself with such effortless grace. it drives jeongguk crazy in the best possible way. he can’t help but want yoongi all to himself.

he’s busy mentally listing every way he could make yoongi fall apart when it happens. 

yoongi glances up, his gaze piercing through the sea of flashing lights, until it lands on jeongguk. standing on the balcony above, jeongguk stiffens as their eyes meet. for a split second, yoongi’s sharp expression, crafted perfectly for the cameras, softens. a small, private smile graces his lips.

and just like that, the world stops.

the bustling crowd of photographers below, the cacophony of voices calling yoongi’s name, the staccato bursts of shutters snapping—everything fades into silence, draining of color like an old film reel. the only thing vivid, the only thing real, is yoongi’s gaze locked with jeongguk’s.

jeongguk forgets how to breathe, his heart thundering as if trying to fill the silence. 

in the busiest of crowds, no matter how many people there might be, jeongguk only ever has eyes for yoongi. but this time, it’s different. it’s mutual; this time, yoongi’s eyes are telling jeongguk, i see you. i’ll always find you.

the moment lingers in a beat, until yoongi’s gaze shifts back to the cameras, his invisible mask sliding effortlessly into place. his expression is once again unreadable, commanding. with a subtle nod, he decides the shoot is over. he has that type of power, to decide anything. 

as yoongi strides away, the voices of the crowd rise again, buzzing with admiration, but jeongguk barely hears them. he steps back into the shadows, his pulse still racing, his mind a whirlwind.

yoongi acknowledged his presence. in front of everyone.

it’s enough to send his head spinning. jeongguk walks away from the balcony. he doesn’t know where he’s going, bumping into people mindlessly, not aware enough of his actions to even apologize.

jeongguk watches the show, but does he really? his body is physically there, but his mind is elsewhere. it all passes in a blur of high heels click clacking and slow clapping from the audience. it’s over just as quickly as it started.

because one look from yoongi is enough to set jeongguk’s entire body on fire. anticipation completely takes over him. he decides he needs a drink. he heads over to the bar and orders a shot of tequila. it burns his throat in the right way.

jeongguk waits, asking the bartender for a refill from time to time. he keeps the shot glass in hands, just to have something cold to touch and distract himself. his figure reflects on the mirror behind the liquor bottles in front of him. he doesn’t draw any attention in his all black clothes, but regardless of that, he thinks he looks good with his hair up in a ponytail. he wonders what yoongi has to say about it. 

every thought that crosses his mind always end up in yoongi somehow.

after a while, and how long exactly jeongguk would never know, yoongi approaches him in the secluded corner of the bar. he’s like a dream come true, walking like he owns the entire place. he owns jeongguk, that’s for sure.

there’s no one around to witness their interaction as he orders a whisky on the rocks and downs it in one swift motion, not even wincing at the bitterness of its taste. he’s so fucking hot, his presence both electrifying and intimidating. everything he does, all his mannerisms, it all draws jeongguk in, and he isn’t sure if he's drunk on alcohol or on yoongi. he’s drunk in love and in lust.

yoongi turns to the side subtly, his words meant for jeongguk’s ears only. “i believe you have something i want, sweetheart.”

“do i?” jeongguk asks. yoongi gives a short nod in response. “what is it that you want?”

“you,” he smirks. jeongguk’s heart jumps on his chest, thrilled about doing something that's forbidden. they work together. yoongi is supposed to be unreachable, unattainable; he’s also undeniable.

“i figured as much. you couldn’t stop looking at me. you were basically devouring me with your eyes,” jeongguk teases.

yoongi doesn’t answer. he bites his lower lip shyly, like someone who got caught in the act. jeongguk wonders if yoongi’s heart is pounding inside his chest, too. he hopes that it is. “see? you can't even deny it,” he smirks.

yoongi swallows dry, eyes fixed on jeongguk’s lips. “alright, do you wanna get out of here, or what?” he asks, voice low and enticing.

“i thought you’d never fucking ask,” jeongguk whispers in return.

with a quick text to yoongi’s driver, they slip out through the back door unnoticed. if the driver finds their departure odd since the party barely even started, he doesn’t say anything about it—it’s none of his business, anyway.

the drive to yoongi’s apartment is brief, and although jeongguk feels like his entire body is catching fire, they exchange some casual words on the way there. once they step into the elevator, yoongi’s lips immediately find their way to jeongguk’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the crook of his shoulder to his earlobe.

jeongguk slides a hand onto yoongi’s back, craving the touch of his skin, but he’s wearing way too many layers of clothing for his liking. jeongguk lets out a frustrated grunt.

“impatient, much?” yoongi teases, a playful grin dancing on his lips.

“this elevator takes forever to reach your floor, i need you now,” jeongguk groans.

“i know baby, i thought about this all day,” yoongi sighs, the warmth of breath sending shivers to jeongguk’s spine. “fuck, all i wanted was to get things done and come back home to you.”

the bell rings, and the elevator doors snap open, and jeongguk instinctively takes yoongi by the hand, leading him toward the familiar comfort of the living room. he navigates the space with ease; he knows every corner of every room in the apartment by now. has every art piece on the walls and the creaks on the floor memorized.

in a world where everyone wants to be with min yoongi, jeon jeongguk is the one who gets to. 

they’ve been dating for a few months, while simultaneously keeping their relationship a secret. it started with harmless flirting in after parties, quickly escalating to secret rendezvous in hotel rooms. and now jeongguk can’t picture his days without yoongi.

“i want you so bad,” yoongi whimpers, his usual deep voice now high pitched and whiny with lust. “all the time, it drives me insane.”

it’s mutual. jeongguk exhales, “just take me. i’m fucking yours.”

they don’t bother trying to make it to the bedroom to start making out; it would be surprising if they did from how heated it is from the very start. yoongi’s hand curls in jeongguk’s hair, undoing his ponytail and making him gasp. he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside jeongguk’s mouth. 

as they kiss open mouthed and messily, yoongi’s tongue pushes insistently against jeongguk’s, until he’s the one guiding the kiss. he rolls his hips against jeongguk’s hotly, with an almost desperate urgency. jeongguk can feel how hard he is as he presses against his thigh, and he’s not far from it himself. 

from the moment yoongi glanced at him in the balcony, jeongguk could already feel himself getting hard, arousal settling low and timidly on his stomach. there’s something about the possibility of getting caught that never fails to make him horny. jeongguk thinks they should explore that even further. a little exhibitionism never killed anybody.

without breaking the kiss, jeongguk starts to remove yoongi’s layers of clothes, starting with his suit, letting it fall somewhere near the couch. he pulls on his shirt out of the waist of the pants, tracing his back lightly with his fingernails. jeongguk feels yoongi’s skin shivering as he hisses at the touch, breaking apart to lick on the side of jeongguk’s neck again, tongue sliding all the way to the crook of his shoulder, biting it lightly.

“ugh, just fuck me already,” jeongguk whines impatiently. he feels warm all over, his clothes restraining him, desperate for yoongi to do something. “touch me.”

“hmmm,” yoongi hums, hands traveling down jeongguk’s back, squeezing his ass. he asks softly, “baby, do you think we can try something new?”

“like what?” jeongguk asks, sighing in frustration as yoongi takes one step back. he wants yoongi all over him, not away from him.

yoongi carefully removes the loose beige tie from around his neck, his gaze lingering on it a little longer than necessary, eyes glistening with whatever he has in mind. he doesn’t need to say anything else; jeongguk understands immediately.

“do you wanna tie me up?” jeongguk asks, cocking an eyebrow at him.

yoongi scratches the back of his head nervously. “i was thinking blindfolding, actually.”

“oh!” jeongguk reaches to feel the texture of the tie with his fingertips. his mind races thinking how it would feel to be fucked by yoongi like this, unable to predict his movements. being tied up would be the cherry on top.

“i mean, we could do both if you’re down. but it’s okay if you don’t wanna do it. but i hope you do, ‘cause it’s gonna be so hot to see you helpless,” yoongi says as he puts a strand of jeongguk’s hair in place behind his ear, before his lips find their way back to jeongguk’s neck. he’s a little obsessed about this specific spot. not that jeongguk is complaining.

“hmmm,” jeongguk whimpers as he considers it. he’s usually extra sensitive, any little touch is enough to make him squirm away, giggling, sending him to the edge very quickly. it can get too much too fast, which is extremely annoying. but he also has a thing for feeling the specific type of pain that comes with it.

the truth is that jeongguk feels so safe under yoongi’s touch, he would try absolutely anything with him. “okay,” he agrees.

yoongi smiles so sweetly, gums flashing out, and it’s so cute that it doesn’t match what they’re agreeing to do. jeongguk can’t help but smile back. “okay, just a sec–” yoongi stops mid-sentence, speaking louder and clearer, “okay google! play my ‘'nothing to see here’ playlist on spotify.”

“okay,” the google assistant voice speaks. “playing ‘nothing to see here’ playlist on spotify premium.” a sensual r&b beat starts playing on the speakers strategically placed all over the apartment, and jeongguk can’t stop a laugh from escaping his lips, letting his body fall softly against the couch.

“what!? what is it?” yoongi asks, sitting next to him on the couch, his smile growing even further.

“i can’t believe you made a playlist for us to fuck to! oh my god, hyung,” jeongguk says, kissing yoongi on the lips repeatedly. “you're so fucking adorable. a little corny, but adorable.”

“can’t a guy just set the mood?” yoongi pouts, only to give into a smile a mere second later, holding jeongguk’s neck firmly and licking on his bottom lip. 

“you can do whatever you want,” jeongguk sighs, closing his eyes and giving in to the sensation of yoongi’s hand, going from his neck to his throat, falling all the way down through his spine only to stop at the small of his back.

“so i’m gonna tie you up.”

“please.”

“okay, i– do you wanna move to the bedroom?”

“i think it would be more comfortable,” jeongguk agrees, taking the tie from yoongi’s hand, wrapping it around his shoulders and pulling him closer, dragging him to the master bedroom.

“you’re something else,” yoongi says, wrapping his arms around jeongguk’s waist and taking his lips on a kiss that keeps going until their knees hit the bed.

“so what are you tying me up with?” jeongguk teases. yoongi opens a drawer on the bedside table—the one where he keeps the toys—and grabs a light pink satin ribbon. jeongguk’s jaw hangs open at the sight. “you kinky motherfucker. how long have you been keeping this here?”

“i bought it a while before we left for paris. i was hoping you’d be into it,” yoongi says shyly.

“i’m into you.”

“good,” yoongi smiles. “you ready?” jeongguk nods. “come here, then.”

darkness fully envelops jeongguk as yoongi wraps the necktie around his eyes.

“does it feel okay or is it too tight?” yoongi asks as he adjusts it. “i can remove it if you feel uncomfortable.”

“i can't see anything,” jeongguk chuckles. he blindly reaches for yoongi’s hand to squeeze it tightly, to reassure that it’s alright. “it’s not too tight, i feel good.”

“okay,” yoongi answers.

“i trust you,” jeongguk adds.

“tell me if you feel any differently and i'll stop,” yoongi reassures. always so careful, always taking such good care of him. it makes jeongguk’s heart flutter in the same manner that it overwhelms him with want.

yoongi undresses jeongguk quickly, his clothes falling on the floor, and he lets himself be maneuvred in any way yoongi desires; there’s not much he can do when he can’t see what's going on, anyway. 

plus, if he said he didn’t like the feeling of yoongi’s big hands manhandling him, that would be a blatant lie. he likes it a bit too much.

“fuck baby, you're so wet already,” yoongi says after removing jeongguk’s underwear, letting his cock bob free, the cold air from the air conditioning sending a chill to his thighs, which he instinctively tries to cover with his hands. yoongi interlocks their fingers, stopping him from doing it.

“enjoy it, then. it’s all for you,” jeongguk answers cheekily, chewing on his bottom lip, eager for yoongi’s next moves.

“i know,” yoongi’s voice drips with smugness. “i’m so fucking lucky.”

yoongi ties each of jeongguk’s hands to the bed’s headboard. he makes sure once again that jeongguk doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all before he continues with what he has in mind, and jeongguk feels himself getting flushed from the waist down in anticipation.

jeongguk’s breath hitches when he feels yoongi’s finger teasing just the tip of his cock, spreading precum around the head with his thumb. he gives a few lazy strokes and jeongguk’s cock throbs in his hand, thick and heavy against his palm.

there’s something exhilarating in not being able to see or use his hands. he can’t anticipate any of yoongi’s moves, where or how he’s going to touch him; he can only imagine and patiently wait. it makes his heart race a little on his chest, arousal running on his veins like liquid lava, leaving him desperate for more.

jeongguk feels yoongi’s breath ghosting over his neck again, the warmth sending a shiver down his spine. then comes the wet drag of yoongi’s tongue along the shell of his ear, playing teasingly with the edge of his earrings. jeongguk bites his lip, trying to suppress a grin, but it breaks through anyway, uncontrollable.

“oh, you like this,” yoongi murmurs, his smirk clear in his voice.

“what’s not to like?” jeongguk fires back, his tone deliberately challenging, despite his current predicament. being tied up and blindfolded doesn’t mean he can’t still have some fun.

yoongi chuckles low, a sound that makes jeongguk’s stomach flip. “you’re such a little brat,” he says, his voice laced with affection.

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“i do. that’s why i get to do this.” yoongi pinches jeongguk’s nipple sharply, and jeongguk whimpers, jolting forward. yoongi’s fingers smooth over the sensitive skin, soothing, only to pinch again with just as much force.

jeongguk actually loves this. it makes his cock dribble even more precum. he feels so wet he believes they won’t even need lube anytime soon.

“you’re so fucking hot,” yoongi whispers, voice raspy and laced with want, hands traveling from jeongguk’s chest to his abdomen. his tongue dances over the wetness pooling in jeongguk’s stomach, teasingly light as it traces a path toward the flushed tip of jeongguk’s cock.

it’s maddeningly insufficient, a tease that leaves jeongguk gasping for more. yoongi’s hand presses flat against jeongguk’s stomach, grounding him against the mattress, stopping any attempt to squirm away or thrusting forward. his hand feels so big and strong, his palm warm and firm against his skin.

yoongi takes jeongguk fully into his mouth. the slick warmth of his tongue envelops him entirely. yoongi moans around him, the vibrations buzzing through every sensitive nerve as he takes him deeper, his throat flexing as he pushes himself further, nearly gagging but refusing to pull away. he’s so good at this—so unfairly, ridiculously good—that jeongguk can barely think straight.

it should be illegal for yoongi to be this skilled at giving head, jeongguk thinks, except he’s the one on the receiving end, and that’s all that matters. honestly, yoongi could make a career out of this if it weren’t already clear he was made solely to suck jeongguk off. every day. forever.

because sure, jeongguk has had boyfriends who gave decent head before—some enthusiastic, some trying their best—but yoongi is entirely on another level. no one else has ever sucked jeongguk off like they were starving for it. no one else has handed jeongguk full control, letting him hold their chin and fuck their face with reckless abandon. but yoongi does. he does it every single time, and jeongguk swears it ruins him just a little more.

it’s no surprise jeongguk’s embarrassingly close to coming already, barely holding himself back. “fuck, you’re good,” he whimpers. “i can’t believe you’re keeping me from seeing your face, hyung. this is so fucking cruel. you’re so fucking evil.”

of course, that’s when yoongi pulls off, leaving jeongguk soaked, throbbing, and frustrated. yoongi probably does it just to hear the desperate, broken sound he makes.

“hyung,” jeongguk whines, thrusting his hips upward instinctively, blindly searching for yoongi’s mouth again. it’s pathetic, he’s fully aware, but he’s far too gone to care.

“you look at my face everyday for hours. aren’t you tired of seeing me by now?” yoongi asks.

“never,” jeongguk answers promptly, shaking his head. “i get to look at you at work and at home? i'm the fucking luckiest.”

yoongi makes a pleased sound at jeongguk’s answer. “do you think i’m pretty?” he asks, and jeongguk nods frantically in response. “tell me more, baby,” yoongi prompts, his tone turning coaxing, almost indulgent.

yoongi loves to hear it. he loves to feel pretty. he loves to feel wanted. he loves knowing the effect he has on jeongguk. 

and jeongguk? he loves to give yoongi whatever he wants.

“sometimes we’re at work and you look so fucking good that i can barely contain myself, it makes me wanna take you right then and there,” jeongguk tells him. yoongi moans around his cock again, the vibration shooting shivers down his spine, and he takes it as a sign to keep talking. “you’re so gorgeous, my pretty hyung. sometimes it’s all i think about, your pretty mouth around my cock.”

yoongi pulls off then, and the wet pop of it makes jeongguk twitch. “it’s such a shame you can’t see my pretty lips around your cock right now, then.”

jeongguk groans in frustration, his head falling back against the mattress. “you’re fucking evil,” he complains, but there’s no real bite to it—it’s all whiny and desperate, and yoongi chuckles at him, soft and warm, more amused than anything else.

​​but then yoongi’s mouth is back, sliding down on him again, and he gives such fucking great blowjobs that any other complaints jeongguk might’ve had just die on his throat, replaced quickly by needy gasps and broken pleads.

yoongi bobs his head up and down while cupping jeongguk’s balls. he spits and licks and sucks at the head of jeongguk’s cock, drawing louder and louder moans from him, making him so sensitive, bringing him closer to the edge as pressure builds inside him.

“hyung, i’m close,” jeongguk warns, expecting yoongi to pull off like he has before, but he doesn’t. instead, yoongi takes as much of jeongguk as he possibly can in his mouth, and it’s so tight and warm, it’s enough to push jeongguk over. 

he comes with a loud moan, his body jerking against the binds before going completely lax, dissolving into the mattress as the pleasure washes over him.

but yoongi doesn’t stop, even after swallowing every drop of jeongguk’s come. he keeps going, his movements slower now, but no less purposeful. his tongue flicks and drags along jeongguk’s oversensitive cock, sending shockwaves through him. jeongguk tries to squirm away, his body twisting instinctively, but the ties at his wrists keep him in place.

“hyung,” jeongguk whines, voice pitching higher. “it’s too much.”

yoongi finally pulls off, and the relief is immediate, though jeongguk is left panting, his chest heaving. “so, do you want me to stop?”

jeongguk doesn’t respond right away, taking a few seconds to catch his breath. despite the oversensitivity, he already misses the warmth of yoongi’s mouth, the way it felt so perfect even when it was too much. finally, he answers, “no.”

“of course you don’t,” yoongi says, and jeongguk can almost hear the smirk in his voice, like he already knew the answer. “i’m only getting started.”

yoongi wraps his mouth around the head of jeongguk’s oversensitive cock, and the sound that rips from his throat is almost inhuman, dissolving very quickly into a chaotic mess of moans, and groans, and disconnected syllables, his breath becoming more erratic with each passing second.

the overstimulation hurts, but there’s nothing jeongguk can do about it. so he lets himself get carried away by the sensation, until it doesn’t hurt anymore, until the pain ebbs, blurs, and melts into something else. he feels his body giving in, his cock hardening again under yoongi’s attention.

jeongguk feels like he’s floating. it’s as if his limbs have detached from his body, and his head is filled with a fog so thick he can’t think of anything except more, more, more. he’s beyond the sound of his own voice now, beyond any sound at all. blissed out and pliant, he feels like yoongi is sucking his soul out of him with every swirl of his tongue.

at some point, jeongguk stops making noise entirely. his mouth hangs open, but no sound comes out. he’s completely gone, lost in a pleasure so intense it renders him silent, the blindfold and ribbons around his wrists amplifying the experience to something heavenly.

he wants to speak, wants to tell yoongi he’s okay, that he’s doing so fucking good, but his brain can’t seem to connect the dots. he can’t make his lips move, can’t push the air from his lungs to form words.

after a while, he feels the blindfold being taken away from his eyes, which were open but unseeing anything. he blinks to adjust to the lights, and suddenly yoongi’s face comes into frame. “jeongguk?” he says, voice hoarse from deepthroating him, and worry quickly washes away from his face as he looks at jeongguk. he must look blissful, completely fucked out, so caught up in the moment his mind went completely blank, losing his words altogether.

“oh, shit,” yoongi mutters. he swiftly puts the blindfold back on jeongguk’s eyes, not bothering to secure it in place this time. “okay, fuck. wanna suck me, baby?”

jeongguk can’t quite speak yet, can’t trust his voice even if he tried, so he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out in response, eager and obedient.

yoongi chuckles lightly, his thumb brushing over jeongguk’s cheek as he holds his face. “good boy,” he murmurs before guiding himself to jeongguk’s waiting lips. jeongguk goes for it eagerly, wrapping his mouth around yoongi’s cock and sucking without hesitation.

“fuck, baby,” yoongi groans, his voice dripping with pleasure. “let me use this pretty mouth of yours, hmm? you look so good like this. so fucked out for hyung.”

jeongguk licks at the tip, his jaw slack as he allows yoongi to thrust into it, moving his mouth up and down the length of his cock. he loses himself into the feeling again, letting it overwhelm his senses.

“this feels fucking good. you’re doing so good, baby boy. you suck hyung off so perfectly.”

the praise makes jeongguk hum contentedly around yoongi’s length, spurring him to suck harder, to lap his tongue more eagerly. he basks in the moans and whispered fucks that spill from yoongi’s lips. every sound yoongi makes feels like a reward, and jeongguk feels desperate to earn more of them.

but then yoongi pulls out of jeongguk’s mouth suddenly, leaving him whining brokenly at the loss. he opens his mouth to start to protest, only to feel the sudden shift of yoongi’s weight on top of him.

yoongi’s thighs straddle jeongguk, and before he can even process what’s happening, yoongi sinks all the way down onto his cock, moaning loudly as his hands find the small of jeongguk’s waist to steady himself.

it hits jeongguk like a bolt of lightning. yoongi had been fingering himself open this entire time—while jeongguk was blissfully unaware, blindfolded and drunk on sensation. fuck.

“yoongi—” jeongguk gasps loudly, his breath hitching as his cock is enveloped in yoongi’s warmth. the shock jolts him straight out of the hazy trance he was in, and his back arches involuntarily, making the necktie to slip from his eyes.

when yoongi’s face comes into focus, jeongguk is completely stunned. yoongi’s head is tilted back, a blissful smile stretched across his lips, his tongue peeking out to rest lazily against his top lip. his eyes are shut tight, his expression so serene and wrecked at the same time, that it takes jeongguk’s breath away.

jeongguk is struck once again by how achingly beautiful yoongi is. his skin glowing, his long dark strands sticking to his damp forehead, and his lips are swollen, parted just enough to let his moans spill out freely. “fuck, yoongi,” he chokes out, his hands pulling against the restraints as if on instinct, wanting to touch him. “oh my g—”

yoongi starts moving faster, angling his hips slightly. jeongguk lets him take what he wants; he can't do anything but let go, his brain literally fuzzy from being so turned on. 

“jeongguk, fuck, oh my god, i’m so full– fuck,” he moans, his words spilling out in a haze of arousal as he rides jeongguk harder. “you fill me up so fucking well, baby.”

the sight of yoongi—head tilted back, mouth loose and breathless, thighs trembling slightly as he moves—pushes jeongguk dangerously close to coming again. he wants to hold on, to wait for yoongi, but it’s impossible. the way yoongi looks, the way he feels, it’s all too much. “hyung, i’m gonna come again, i’m-”

“yeah,” yoongi pants, bouncing up and down with less finesse than before, desperately chasing his own release as well. “yeah, fuck, gguk. come inside me. fucking fill me up with your cum.”

“ah—!” jeongguk shoots off with a loud cry, bliss completely washing over him for a second time. it’s immediately too much, but he doesn’t care. he needs to watch yoongi coming on top of him. he fights to keep his eyes open, stammering, “yoongi, hyung, k-keep– fucking– oh g-god- fucking yourself on m-my cock-”

“you feel so fucking good,” yoongi groans, locking eyes with jeongguk and bouncing harder on his cock. “i’m so full, you’re so thick, fuck—”

“cum all over me, hyung, please, please-” jeongguk starts thrusting his hips up to meet yoongi halfway, the slapping sounds of skin on skin completely filthy on their ears.

yoongi’s moans grow louder and more incoherent as his pleasure builds. he grips his cock, stroking himself in rhythm with jeongguk’s thrusts. it doesn’t take long before his cock twitches in his hand, thick streams of cum spurting out and painting jeongguk’s chest white.

“fuck,” yoongi shouts, throwing his head back in bliss, and there’s so much of it, because he kept holding it for so long while teasing jeongguk. it goes on and on for a while, dripping down onto jeongguk’s skin.

jeongguk is so out of it, blissfully so, that he doesn’t notice yoongi pulling out of him once the high fades. he’s too lost in the haze to even remember that he’s been tied up this entire time. when yoongi carefully unties the ribbons, jeongguk’s arms fall limply to his sides, like they’re made of jelly. he closes his eyes, humming lazily, utterly spent.

it’s an absolute fucking mess. there’s cum everywhere—all over the bed, on jeongguk’s chest, probably even yoongi's thighs. but jeongguk doesn’t care. he likes it messy. he wants to stay exactly like this. if anything, he’s already thinking about going another round, this time letting yoongi fuck him properly. he simply can’t get enough of him. 

“hyung,” jeongguk whines softly. “come here.”

yoongi’s hands are gentle as he cleans jeongguk’s chest with a wet wipe, his touch soothing. once he’s satisfied, he lays down next to jeongguk, pulling him close and tucking his face against his chest.

“jeongguk-ah. are you okay?” yoongi asks, voice soft and careful, caressing the side of jeongguk's face with his thumb.

“mmhmm,” jeongguk sighs, nuzzling closer. “i feel clingy, though.” he tangles their legs together, feeling the need to crawl under yoongi’s skin in an attempt to be even closer.

“i’ve got you, sweetheart.” yoongi caresses jeongguk’s back with his fingertips, the motion soothing and tender.

“are you alright, hyung?”

“yes, baby. you make me feel so good.”

jeongguk melts at yoongi’s gentleness. “you make me feel so good. i swear my brain went completely blank for a second there.”

yoongi smiles, his post-orgasm bliss still evident in his lazy expression. “for more than a second. you weren't making any noise for a while, i got worried. but then i removed the blindfold and saw your face and–shit, you never looked so good. completely fucked out, even your eyes were out of focus. that was so…” he trails off, his words fading into a contented sigh.

“it's that mouth of yours," jeongguk sighs. "making me go non-verbal and shit.”

yoongi chuckles breathlessly. “you taste too good, i can't help it. just need to have you in my mouth always.”

“you really should never have your mouth anywhere else.”

“and you should always have pink ribbons around your pretty wrists,” yoongi says. “you were looking so delicate, and so fucking sexy. i couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“hyung, stop talking,” jeongguk struggles to contain a shy smile. “i'm gonna get hard again.”

“i mean,” yoongi shrugs with exaggerated nonchalance. “why not?”

jeongguk giggles, unable to keep himself from leaning in to capture yoongi’s lips in a soft kiss. he sighs into it, feeling like he could stay here forever. it doesn’t get any more perfect than this.

xx

it’s a while later and jeongguk and yoongi find themselves in the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed. jeongguk is wearing yoongi’s clothes, and they’re a perfect fit despite yoongi being a little shorter, thanks to his preference for oversized, baggy styles. the fabric drapes comfortably over jeongguk’s frame, and it smells like yoongi, so jeongguk is perfectly content with it.

“fuck,” jeongguk nearly moans. “post-sex ramen is unmatched.”

“jeongguk-ah, baby…” yoongi laughs. “you say that about any ramen.”

“no, i don’t!” jeongguk protests. “only about the real special ones. if i were to make a top three, post-sex ramen would definitely be on the top of the list.”

“oh!” yoongi leans against the counter, lips quirking into a smirk. “now i'm curious. what's  number two and three?”

“in second place,” jeongguk declares, gesturing animatedly with his chopsticks, “comes post-concert ramen. like, after you leave the venue and spend an eternity trying to get an uber, and by the time you finally get home, you’re so fucking starving  that the ramen is the best thing that ever touched your taste buds, you know?”

yoongi chuckles, his smile full of quiet amusement as he watches jeongguk ramble. “yeah, i know exactly what you mean. and in third place…?” 

“it’s post-fashion show ramen,” jeongguk continues without missing a beat. “after a full day of chaos, when it’s time to go back to the hotel and i just make a little detour to the convenience store to get the goods.”

“you've thought long and hard about this subject.”

“of course i have,” jeongguk replies, feigning indignation.

“and you look very angry right now,” yoongi teases lightly, voice laced with fondness. “that’s how i know the food is really good.”

jeongguk scrunches his nose shyly. he loves when yoongi points out the little things he notices about him. he loves being the focus of yoongi’s gentle attention.

“oh! i have to tell you something,” yoongi says, leaning a little closer, his voice low but excited. “you know how gossip flies around between the models and the crew, right?”

“hell yeah.” there’s always some drama because no one seems to know how to shut their mouths, secrets passed around like party favors. it's one of the reasons he’s so cautious with yoongi at work. one slip could mean disaster.

“so, taehyung told me that jimin told him that chaewon overheard someone saying that there are talks of me becoming valentino’s next ambassador.”

jeongguk’s head tilts, his thoughts spinning as he tries to untangle the web of names. but yoongi’s words sink in, his face lights up. “hyung! oh my god, that’s huge!”

yoongi waves a hand dismissively, though a faint blush creeps up his neck. “don’t get your hopes up. i’m trying really hard not to get mine either.”

“but why? if there are talks it's practically yours already.”

“i’m not so sure,” yoongi replies, his voice softening, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. it’s a big deal, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s scared to hope too much. it's such a starking contrast from how he presents himself in front of the cameras, so confident and unapologetic.

“why not?” jeongguk asks, poking him gently on the rib.

“there are other models who are just as good as me.”

“that’s not true. none of them are as perfect for it as you are.”

yoongi’s lips curve into a soft smile, his cheeks flushing slightly. “you flatter me, jeon jeongguk.”

“i only tell you the truth, hyung.”

yoongi’s smile deepens, and for a moment, his confidence shines back through. "you make me feel so pretty," he murmurs, inching closer. "like i can conquer the world."

“but you can,” jeongguk says, the certainty in his voice leaving no room for argument.

“thank you,” yoongi whispers, the sincerity in his eyes enough to steal jeongguk’s breath.

in that moment, jeongguk almost says it. three little words that keep echoing in his mind every time he’s near yoongi. they're right there, on the tip of his tongue, threatening to come out, but something tells him that it's not the right time yet.

so instead, he lets himself fall deeper and deeper, wrapping himself tighter in yoongi's orbit as the days go by, unable to resist the pull.

TOKYO.

“oh my fucking god.”

jeongguk freezes mid-step as yoongi steps into the room, dressed and styled to kill. he’s wearing a black tailored blazer over a crisp white undershirt, high-waisted black shorts that show off his smooth, milky thighs, and black boots adorned with dramatic feathered embellishments. the whole look is dangerous, stylish, and way too much for jeongguk’s sanity.

he can feel his brain short-circuiting, every coherent thought flying out the window.

“do you like what you see?” yoongi asks, his voice teasing, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

“i just feel like i need to have a word with whoever picked this outfit for you,” jeongguk answers.

“it’s your lucky day, ‘cause i chose it myself, actually.”

“are you in a mission to give your boyfriend a heart attack?” jeongguk whispers, his voice low, even though the room is empty save for the two of them.

“never!” yoongi replies, his smile sweet but knowing, fully aware of the effect he has. “now, if you’re done malfunctioning, i’m ready for my makeup, sir.”

“you’re going to be the death of me, hyung,” jeongguk says. he takes a steadying breath as yoongi settles into the makeup chair, his legs crossing gracefully, the high-waisted shorts riding up just enough to make jeongguk’s brain buzz. he pulls his kit closer, flipping open the neatly organized compartments, and tries to focus.

“so,” jeongguk starts, keeping his voice neutral as he picks up a primer. “any special requests, or should i just make you look like the most beautiful person alive as usual?”

yoongi tilts his head, his smile growing. “oh? is that what you think of me?”

“just stating facts, hyung. don’t let it get to your head.”

yoongi hums, closing his eyes as jeongguk leans in to apply the primer. the moment jeongguk’s fingers brush his skin, gentle and precise, yoongi sighs softly. “i don’t know. you’re pretty convincing, jeon jeongguk. maybe i should start believing you.”

“stop looking at me like that,” jeongguk mutters as he sets his brushes on the table.

“like what?” yoongi feigns innocence, his tone dripping with amusement.

“like you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” jeongguk says, grabbing the cushion foundation and tilting yoongi’s chin up gently.

“maybe i do.” yoongi’s gaze is locked onto jeongguk's. 

jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, focusing on blending the foundation across yoongi’s already flawless skin. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

“i’ve been told,” yoongi replies. “but you like trouble, don’t you?”

“not when i’m trying to do my job,” jeongguk counters, though the faint pink in his cheeks betrays him.

yoongi hums, his voice low and almost a purr. “i make it so hard for you, don’t i?”

jeongguk’s hand falters slightly as he moves to grab the eyebrow pencil. “can you please behave?”

“where’s the fun in that?” yoongi leans closer, his breath warm against jeongguk’s wrist.

jeongguk pulls back just enough to focus on yoongi’s eyebrows. “you’re impossible today,” he grumbles, dabbing concealer with practiced precision.

“i guess i’ve been hanging out with you a bit too much,” yoongi murmurs, his gaze flicking to jeongguk’s lips for a fraction of a second.

jeongguk’s breath hitches, but he forces himself to stay focused. he moves to yoongi’s eyeshadow, choosing neutral tones to enhance his features. as he brushes the pigment onto yoongi’s eyelids, yoongi’s lashes flutter against his fingertips, sending an unintentional shiver down jeongguk’s spine.

“you’re staring,” yoongi points out.

“i’m working,” jeongguk shoots back, though his voice is a little strained.

“sure you are,” yoongi says, tilting his head slightly.

“look up,” jeongguk murmurs, leaning in closer. his ring finger gently dabs concealer under yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of his touch lingering against the delicate skin.

“you always use your ring finger for this part,” yoongi observes, voice soft and curious. “is there a reason for that?”

“it’s the gentlest finger,” jeongguk explains as he blends it seamlessly. “you should always use this finger for anything near your eye area. you don't wanna put too much pressure on it.”

yoongi hums thoughtfully. “i’ll remember that the next time i put on eye cream.”

jeongguk snorts, his lips twitching into a grin. “which is never. i’ve never seen you do anything beyond a sheet mask.”

“i don’t really need anything else,” yoongi says with a casual shrug.

“cocky,” jeongguk mutters under his breath, though there’s no heat in his tone.

the chair yoongi is sitting on isn’t very high, or that’s the excuse jeongguk comes up with to just sit on yoongi’s lap innocently, while doing his eyeliner. in his defense, it’s intricate work and he forgot to put on his contact lenses earlier. yoongi clearly doesn’t mind it.

“just confident,” yoongi replies. his eyes flick to jeongguk’s face, taking in the concentration etched into his features. “you seem to like it, though. since you’re in my lap.”

“stop distracting me.”

“but you’re so cute when you’re trying to focus, pouting your lips and furrowing your brows.”

the door is locked. they’re safe. the privacy adds a layer of protection, and that’s enough to make jeongguk feel a little naughty as he shifts subtly, grinding ever so slightly against yoongi’s thigh. 

the movement is slow, controlled, just enough to give him the littlest bit of friction, and it’s all too easy to get lost in the sensation.

at first, yoongi doesn’t seem to notice jeongguk's movements, and jeongguk takes advantage of it. his hands move expertly to do final touches on yoongi’s makeup, but his hips do the work of their own accord, pressing down harder, the fabric of his pants rubbing against yoongi’s skin. it’s a dangerous game, but the thrill of it makes jeongguk feel like he’s on fire.

it doesn’t take long before yoongi hisses, his breath sharp, his body stiffening beneath jeongguk. “are you purposely trying to get yourself fired, love?” he asks with a smirk.

love. love love love love love love.

“not really. i quite like my job. i get to stare at your face while i do it,” jeongguk answers, applying mascara to yoongi’s lower lashes, ignoring the way his heart started doing cartwheels on his chest.

“then what the hell do you think you’re doing?” yoongi’s fingertips trace jeongguk’s bottom lip softly.

“living a little more dangerously.”

yoongi’s smile widens, eyes gleaming with something darker now. “i love the sound of that.”

jeongguk almost wants to grab yoongi by the shoulders and shake him, asking what other things he loves, and if jeongguk makes the cut in the list. he’s dying to hear those words. doesn’t know how he’ll get them out of yoongi. 

he lets his own body speak for him, letting his fingers trail lower as he shifts his weight, pressing himself harder against yoongi. “you’re so—fuck. i really could take you right now,” he whispers, his voice rough, a far cry from the cool, controlled professional he usually is.

“and what's stopping you?”

a million things, honestly. but it’s not like jeongguk gives a fuck at the moment.

the bathroom door slams shut with a loud thud, the sound echoing in the small space, but they don’t even flinch, too lost in each other to care.

yoongi’s hand slips lower, his fingers palming jeongguk’s clothed cock. both of them groan at the same time.

“so hard for me,” yoongi murmurs, his voice low, almost taunting. “can’t even contain yourself anymore while working, huh?”

jeongguk bites his bottom lip. “it’s not my fault,” he says innocently.

“whose fault is it, then?”

“it’s your thighs’ fault,” jeongguk growls, not even bothering to hide the way his hips grind into yoongi’s leg, desperate for more.

yoongi chuckles quietly, pulling jeongguk even closer, their bodies softly pressing together, the tension thicker in the air. his tongue darts out, licking across jeongguk’s lips with a careful, deliberate motion. “we really can’t ruin my clothes or my makeup, jeongguk-ah. and we have such little time. so what are we supposed to do about this?”

jeongguk swallows dry. his thoughts are a whirlwind, but one idea keeps repeating in his mind. he's had it for a while. and it’s a little insane. it’s a little risky. he doesn’t even know if he can go through with it. but he's already so on edge after grinding against yoongi’s thighs, he’s convinced that it might just be worth the shot.

“okay, so, promise me you won’t laugh,” jeongguk starts, voice tight as he glances up at yoongi.

yoongi tilts his head, intrigued. “i have no idea where this is going.”

“promise me!” jeongguk insists, his voice low and almost pleading.

yoongi’s gaze softens, the teasing smirk falling away for a second. it's the kind of look that races jeonggulk's heartbeat and makes him think about love. “i promise, baby.”

jeongguk takes a deep breath and reaches into one of the pockets of his baggy jeans, pulling out something small and shiny. he lifts up a silver buttplug with a delicate purple heart at the base, its smooth surface gleaming under the dim bathroom light.

yoongi’s eyes widen, a surprised gasp escaping him as his gaze flickers between jeongguk’s face and the plug in his hand. “no fucking way.” yoongi breathes, his voice full of… desire, actually. the way his eyes sparkle with sudden want sends a jolt of heat straight to jeongguk's waist.

“i don’t know if i can take it, but…” jeongguk trails off, his voice unsteady, fingers twitching slightly as he holds the plug out to yoongi.

yoongi’s hand moves almost instantly, long, thick fingers brushing against jeongguk’s thin ones as he takes the plug, his touch deliberate and sure. “jeongguk-ah… you never fail to surprise me.”

the soft buzz of jeongguk’s phone on his pocket breaks the tension between them. a text from one of the crew members flashes on the screen: ‘we’re gonna have to leave in 15 minutes, is yoongi ready?’

yoongi doesn’t even glance at the phone, his hands already moving with purpose. he pushes jeongguk’s shoulder gently but firmly, turning him around to face his back.

“oh god,” jeongguk half-giggles, half-groans, caught off guard by how effortlessly yoongi handles him. “you have to leave in 15 minutes,” he points out.

“that’s plenty of time,” yoongi murmurs.

jeongguk smiles, fitting the phone back on his pocket. “hyung, i don’t think that’s enough time.”

yoongi’s hands trail down jeongguk’s sides, stopping at his waist, the touch possessive. “so i’m gonna have to quit my job. effective immediately.”

jeongguk laughs, his eyes fluttering close. “i’ll prep myself, and when you’re back from the event, i’ll be all stretched out and ready for your cock.” 

a low groan rumbles in yoongi’s throat. “okay, okay-” he breathes out, trying to collect himself. his hands slide back up to jeongguk’s shoulder, spinning him around once more. this time, he crashes their lips together in a kiss so heated it feels like it could burn them alive.

when they finally break apart, yoongi pulls back to smooth his clothes, his expression softening when he locks eyes with jeongguk. it always softens. that means it must be love, right?

“you’re so gorgeous it hurts,” jeongguk murmurs.

it would be kind of the perfect moment for yoongi to say i love you, jeongguk thinks. but what he replies instead is still kind of perfect.

“i won’t be able to stop thinking about you, jeongguk-ah. they’ll photograph me tonight without realizing that the only thing in my head is my boyfriend waiting for me. and then i’ll be back and i’ll fucking tear you apart.”

so, perfect in an absolutely filthy way.

xx

“oh my god, look at you.”

jeongguk barely registers yoongi’s voice over the hum of his own shallow breathing. he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror earlier; he’s an absolute mess of puffy lips, blown pupils and neck flushed a deep shade of pink. hours had passed since yoongi left the hotel, and in that time, every slight shift of his hips moved the plug and sent waves of overstimulation rippling through his body, brushing against his prostate until he was trembling on the edge of tears.

now, he lies sprawled across the bed, unable to do much more than breathe. he’s completely naked save for his boxers, which he put on on a failed attempt to stop his cock from twitching. his skin glows with a faint sheen of sweat, the line of his cock in the boxers is obscene, and he needs yoongi to do something about it soon, or he'll have a meltdown.

“how the hell are you so fucking hot?” yoongi asks as he approaches jeongguk, fingertips lightly touching his abdomen. it sends a shiver down jeongguk’s spine, and he shudders, and the plug moves, and he groans. it’s the naughtiest domino effect ever. “i think you work out with the sole purpose of driving me nuts.”

“driving you nuts is just a happy bonus,” jeongguk replies. “now can you just—please, fuck, i feel like i’ve been hard all fucking day.”

“what do you want me to do, baby?”

“something?! anything! fucking touch me,” jeongguk whimpers, holding yoongi’s hand and guiding it toward his thighs.

“what a sight,” yoongi mutters. “to see you so desperate.”

“yoongi, please. stop talking.”

“why?”

“because your voice is…”

“what about it?”

“turns me on too much.”

yoongi laughs, and jeongguk gasps when his hand presses firmly over the bulge in his boxers, his thumb brushing over the leaking tip through the fabric. the touch makes jeongguk’s thighs tremble.

“you’ve been so good for me all evening,” yoongi says. “wearing that little plug just like you said you would. so fucking perfect for me.”

“y-yes,” jeongguk stutters, his head falling back against the pillow. “i’ve been so good, hyung.”

yoongi presses a kiss to jeongguk’s neck and whispers close to his ear, voice raspy and delicious, “then i think it’s time i reward you, don’t you think so?”

jeongguk moans softly, his body arching into yoongi’s touch, so addictive. he’s seconds away from begging to be fucked senseless, to feel yoongi ruin him entirely. but before they can do anything else— “i wanna do something first. can i?”

yoongi’s brow lifts. “anything you want.”

“i wanna fuck your thighs.”

yoongi smirks, his tongue touching his cheek. “do it, baby,” he replies. “take what you need from me.”

jeongguk swallows hard, his hands trembling as he grips yoongi’s thighs. they’re so soft but firm beneath his fingers, the perfect combination that drives him wild every time he stares at them for too long. 

yoongi leans back against the pillows, legs spread just enough to frame jeongguk, his black shorts pushed up high to reveal the pale, smooth skin jeongguk has been fantasizing about since the afternoon.

jeongguk wastes no time, taking his boxers off and aligning himself between yoongi’s thighs and starting a slow grind. the friction is perfect—warm, tight, and maddeningly good. the position is a little odd, but his breath comes in short, broken gasps as he moves, his hands gripping yoongi’s hips for stability.

he's shy at first, but it feels so nice to finally have some friction on his cock, that the slow thrusts turn into rutting shamelessly against yoongi’s thighs really quickly. 

“you look so good like this, baby,” yoongi says, his eyes dark as they stay locked on jeongguk. “using me to get yourself off.”

jeongguk whimpers at the words, feeling another jolt of arousal course through his veins. he buries his face on yoongi’s neck, biting down lightly as his rhythm falters.

“done already?” yoongi asks, his fingers brushing over jeongguk’s back. 

getting off and coming all over yoongi's thighs is a dream jeongguk's gonna have to save for another occasion to make it come true. “if i keep going i’ll come,” he says, voice wrecked and breathless. “and i’m saving that for your cock.” 

before yoongi can answer, jeongguk is already working to undress him, his hands fumbling in his urgency. as soon as yoongi’s lower half is bare, jeongguk straddles him, positioning himself over yoongi’s cock, who’s flushed and hard and leaking with precum at the tip. if he wasn’t so desperate to have him inside, jeongguk would definitely take his time sucking him off.

yoongi quickly coats his own cock with a generous amount of lube, and then slowly grips the plug and pulls it from jeongguk’s body with an obscene wet noise. jeongguk feels immediately so empty at the loss, he doesn’t waste a second before sinking down on yoongi’s cock with ease, his hole stretched and overstimulated.

they both groan in tandem, but jeongguk almost cries with how good and full he feels. he’s been so patient, waiting for so long. having the plug felt nice after a while, but no toy could ever compare to yoongi’s cock, warm and perfect inside of him, like it was made to be there.

it’s almost comical, how quiet they usually are—soft-spoken and composed in their daily lives. but when it comes to sex, it’s a complete polar opposite. their intimacy is loud, messy, and unapologetically dirty.

jeongguk rides yoongi with abandon, the both of them lost in a haze of lust. yoongi’s mouth latches onto jeongguk’s chest, sucking wetly at his bouncing nipples, leaving marks that will definitely bloom purple. each touch sends sparks ricocheting through jeongguk’s body, his hips angling instinctively to make yoongi hit that spot inside him just right.

“jeongguk-ah, baby,” yoongi moans against jeongguk’s skin, his voice rough and low, spurring jeongguk to move faster.

their filthy words fuel each other, their bodies moving in perfect sync. the room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping and their ragged breaths, both of them high on the raw need pulsing between them. jeongguk throws his head back, his body trembling as he chases his release, yoongi’s cock hitting all the right spots inside him with every bounce.

jeongguk’s balance falters and in an attempt not to completely collapse on top of yoongi, he grips on his neck as yoongi gasps, his eyes widening in alarm.

“fuck—” yoongi mutters breathlessly.

“shit, i’m sorry,” jeongguk half-panics, lifting his hand quickly like his touch burned yoongi. “i didn’t mean to- to choke you.”

“no, just—” yoongi breathes heavily. “here,” he takes jeongguk’s trembling hand, guiding it back to his neck. “with your fingers like this,” he positions jeongguk’s fingers carefully.

jeongguk blinks, stunned. “you’re into it?”

yoongi doesn’t answer the question, he just contains a smile. “now add a little pressure. just don’t move your hand, okay? be gentle for hyung.”

“hyung—” jeongguk is at a loss for words. but of course yoongi is into it. he’s always requesting heavier necklaces and tighter chokers. 

so jeongguk does as instructed, pressing his fingers gently against yoongi’s neck. yoongi’s eyes flutter shut as his back arches off the bed. “fuck, yes. just like that.”

yoongi’s reaction gives jeongguk some confidence, so he squeezes again, a little harder this time. after a couple of seconds, he relaxes his hands, and it seems to get yoongi off like nothing else, because the sounds leaving his mouth are—and there’s no other way to put it—unholy.

jeongguk doesn’t have any knowledge about breathplay, so he doesn’t want to fully commit to it, scared to mess up. the light pressure he applies seems to get yoongi off anyway, so he’s pleased with it. 

yoongi moans softly once he can breathe again, and the sound sends a jolt through jeongguk, and he leans in closer, his hips grinding down unconsciously.

yoongi’s expression is something else— lips parted, cheeks flushed, and tears welling in the corners of his eyes. his body trembles as the pressure intensifies, his hands gripping jeongguk’s waist for dear life.

“yoongi,” jeongguk groans, his own arousal skyrocketing at the sight of yoongi like this. completely undone and gasping for air beneath him. he relaxes his grip and leans forward, capturing yoongi’s lips in a sloppy, very urgent kiss. their teeth clash, tongues tangling messily, and neither of them care.

yoongi whimpers into the kiss, his back arching higher as the combination of choking and jeongguk’s relentless grinding pushes him closer to the edge. 

it’s been too much for hours, but now jeongguk really can’t hold it in anymore. he needs to come or he’ll burst into a tiny million little pieces.

jeongguk’s body trembles violently, overwhelmed by the endless teasing and sensations. every nerve feels like it's fraying, and his breaths come out as broken gasps. “yoongi,” he cries, voice cracking. “i-i can’t. i need to come. please-please, i can’t take it anymore-”

yoongi cups jeongguk’s flushed face, kissing him deeply to muffle his desperate whimpers. “shhh, baby. i’ve got you.” with a sudden burst of strength, yoongi flips them over, pinning jeongguk to the mattress. jeongguk barely has time to adjust before yoongi’s cock drives into him again.

“nnngh, fuck—” jeongguk sobs, his hands clawing at yoongi’s back. his thighs fall open wider, offering himself completely, needing yoongi to ruin him.

“you’re so fucking hot,” yoongi groans, his movements brutal but precise, grinding into jeongguk with relentless force. “you make me so fucking horny.” his fingers dig into jeongguk’s hips, keeping him in place as he pounds into him.

“touch me,” jeongguk manages to cry out, and yoongi wraps a hand around jeongguk’s cock and fuck it if it doesn’t feel blissful. he strokes him messily, and that’s all it takes for jeongguk’s back to arch off the bed as he shatters, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. his hole clenches around yoongi’s cock as his come spurts between their bodies and between yoongi’s fingers, mixing with sweat and lube.

“you're still so— fucking— tight—, even after having that plug inside of you,” yoongi punctuates each word with a slam against his body. “fuck, jeongguk—” he growls, his thrusts growing erratic as jeongguk’s tightening body pulls him over the edge. 

he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he spills inside jeongguk, filling him completely.

yoongi collapses on top of jeongguk, their bodies trembling from the aftershocks, breaths still uneven as they come down from the high. jeongguk’s arms wrap around him instinctively, pulling him close. their skin sticks together with sweat, the dampness clinging to them, but neither cares enough to move just yet.

minutes pass before yoongi finally shifts, rolling onto his side with a heavy exhale, his chest rising and falling as he tries to collect himself.

“holy fucking shit,” jeongguk breathes out. he doesn’t even have the energy to lift his head from the pillow.

“that was…” yoongi starts, taking a sip of water.

“yeah.”

“earth shattering,” yoongi finishes, placing the water bottle in the bedside table, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips.

“come here,” jeongguk murmurs, already reaching for him.

yoongi leans in without hesitation, their lips meeting in a soft, unhurried kiss. it’s a stark contrast to the frenzy of moments ago—gentle, languid, and full of unspoken promises.

afterward, the air shifts, tender and quiet, as they settle into their routine of mutual aftercare. yoongi isn’t usually the clingy type. he doesn’t often ask for affection, preferring to stand near jeongguk and silently wait for the embrace to come. but after moments like these, he knows jeongguk needs it just as much as he does.

he pulls jeongguk close, holding him tightly, the warmth of their bodies seeping into each other. yoongi’s hands move gently, tracing soft lines over jeongguk’s back. he leaves light kisses along the curve of jeongguk’s neck, his lips lingering.

fingers card through jeongguk’s damp hair, smoothing the sweat-soaked strands into place. it feels a lot like love.

neither says much as the minutes stretch on. eventually, they peel themselves off the bed just long enough to clean up the mess they’ve made. when they return, they tangle into each other again, the sheets cool and comforting against their warm skin.

wrapped in yoongi’s arms, jeongguk feels the last of his energy fly away. sleep comes easily, the steady rhythm of yoongi’s breathing lulling him into slumber.

MILAN.

it feels like jeongguk and yoongi have been on some kind of heat cycle. there’s no other way to explain why they’ve been acting like animals for the past month.

any time they spend together, they’re either teetering on the edge of fucking or already tangled up in each other. it’s relentless—like they’re addicted to the taste of each other, obsessed with the way their bodies fit together, acting like they just met and can’t get enough.

not that jeongguk’s complaining. far from it, actually. they keep experimenting new things, one better than the other, and it never ceases to be incredible and mind blowing.

however, it’s also starting to get complicated.

it’s becoming harder to hide their relationship. harder to come up with excuses for why they’re in each other’s hotel rooms late at night instead of their own. and even harder for jeongguk to pretend that yoongi doesn’t have a chokehold on him during work hours.

lately, things have gotten even more intense. yoongi’s recent appointment as valentino’s newest global ambassador has thrown a spotlight on him, thrusting him into a whirlwind of photoshoots, high-profile events, and countless opportunities to mingle with beautiful, powerful people. people who stand next to yoongi as equals.

and jeongguk? he’s just a makeup artist.

it’s not like yoongi has done anything to make him feel small. quite the opposite, actually. but that doesn’t stop the jealousy from creeping in.

because sue jeongguk for being a jealous person. he isn’t proud of it, but he can’t help it. he can't stand the way he feels whenever yoongi's paired with another model. it feels like poison on his veins.

today, it feels worse than usual. maybe it’s because he’s been unable to distract himself with his usual dirty daydreams. no matter how hard he tries, the jealousy drowns out everything else.

jeongguk knows he’s being ridiculous. he knows.

but that doesn’t stop him from glaring daggers at the tall, chiseled model currently laughing way too hard at something yoongi just said. it wasn’t even funny. yoongi’s humor is an acquired taste, and jeongguk would know because he’s acquired it.

he huffs loudly, crossing his arms as he watches from the corner of the studio. yoongi is sitting on a velvet chaise, looking absurdly elegant in a tailored suit that jeongguk had already helped adjust twice today. next to him, model #2 (jeongguk refuses to learn his name) is leaning in way too close, a hand resting casually on the armrest like it’s perfectly natural to invade yoongi’s personal space.

it’s not perfectly natural. it’s offensive. jeongguk is the one invading yoongi's personal space.

jeongguk tries to refocus on organizing his brushes, but his gaze keeps snapping back to yoongi.

“oh, my god,” he mutters under his breath. “if that guy smiles one more time, i’m going to—”

“to what?” hoseok, one of the stylists in their crew, interrupts, appearing at his side like some kind of psychic. “stab him with an eyeliner pencil?”

jeongguk scowls, not even remotely amused. “don’t tempt me.”

“jealous much?” hoseok teases, slinging an arm over jeongguk’s shoulder with a grin.

jeongguk rolls his eyes, though hoseok is absolutely correct. he'd probably tell him about the secret relationship with yoongi if it weren’t for the fact that it’s something they’d need to talk about first.

still, jeongguk doesn't totally deny his feelings—they’re written all over his face, after all. there’s no point trying to hide.

“i’m not jealous,” jeongguk lies, shoving hoseok’s arm off. “i’m just—he’s hovering. like, why does he have to hover?”

“that’s literally the shoot concept. ‘luxurious intimacy,’ remember?”

jeongguk hates when hoseok is right. “this luxury is way too intimate,” he grumbles.

as if on cue, model #2 leans even closer to yoongi, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh softly.

jeongguk narrows his eyes. “what could he possibly be saying?”

“probably something boring about the weather,” hoseok says. “or how many sets of abs he did crunches for this morning.”

jeongguk doesn’t laugh. he’s too busy seething. and imagining model #2 tripping over a light stand.

“yoongi doesn’t even like guys like him,” jeongguk mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

“guys like him?”

“yeah, you know.” jeongguk waves his hand vaguely. “tall. annoying. with perfect jawline.”

“so basically everyone in this room, including you?” hoseok smirks, clearly enjoying this too much.

jeongguk glares. “you’re not helping.”

“just saying,” hoseok continues, unfazed. “maybe yoongi likes them tall and annoying. like you—”

jeongguk tunes hoseok's teasing out. he spends the rest of the afternoon trying to focus on his work. but his job is literally making min yoongi look perfect, and min yoongi is the exact cause of the problem he's trying to escape from right now. so it's all going to shit.

no, it’s fine. really. jeongguk isn’t dwelling. not at all.

except he is.

jeongguk has lived with himself since he was born, he knows exactly who he is. he’s way too needy and clingy. he hums random songs under his breath all day. he plays air drums on every available surface. he’s annoying.

and yoongi? yoongi is calm and cool and collected. effortlessly suave in every situation.

so what if he’s finally had enough? what if yoongi is laughing with that guy because he’s realizing jeongguk isn't an easy person to handle?

the thought lodges itself in jeongguk’s chest like a splinter, small but irritating, impossible to ignore. so by the time they wrap up the shoot and head back to the hotel, jeongguk is moody and upset—not at yoongi, because none of this is his fault, but at himself.

later that evening, as jeongguk sulks in his hotel bed wallowing in the misery he’s entirely manufactured, because he's a master at it, a knock sounds at his door.

when he doesn’t answer, the door opens anyway. of course. yoongi has the spare key, and he closes the door behind him and kicks off his shoes like he belongs there. because he does.

“hey,” yoongi says, walking over and climbing into bed beside jeongguk without preamble. he props his head up with one hand, looking at him. “what’s up, baby? why do you look like this?”

“i look like what?” jeongguk grumbles, still staring at the ceiling.

“all pouty and doe-eyed.”

jeongguk shrugs. “dunno. long day. tired.”

“you look really cute when you’re pouting, all whiny like this.”

jeongguk groans in protest, flopping onto his back with a dramatic sigh.

“what was that?” yoongi asks, leaning over him, clearly amused.

“don’t wanna be cute,” jeongguk mutters, his lips pursed.

“but you are,” yoongi counters without missing a beat, his voice sweet and infuriatingly sure.

jeongguk groans again, louder this time, and rolls to the other side, turning his back on yoongi with exaggerated flair.

he hears yoongi huff a quiet laugh behind him, then feels the bed shift as yoongi inches closer. before jeongguk can prepare himself, yoongi’s breath is warm against his neck, his voice dropping low and soft.

“can i help you feel better?” yoongi murmurs, his words brushing against jeongguk’s skin like a secret.

jeongguk doesn’t answer, but the way his shoulders relax ever so slightly is answer enough. yoongi leans in, pressing a delicate kiss to the curve of jeongguk’s neck. the touch is light at first, testing, but when jeongguk doesn’t pull away, yoongi grows bolder. his lips trace a path from jeongguk’s ear to his shoulder, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

yoongi’s hands move with the same tenderness, slipping under the hem of jeongguk’s shirt to brush against the bare skin of his waist. jeongguk breathes in sharply, his body responding despite the lingering cloud of his mood. one by one, yoongi undoes the buttons of jeongguk’s shirt, his fingers steady and unhurried. he pushes the fabric off jeongguk’s shoulders and lets it pool around his hips.

they don’t face each other—jeongguk still isn’t ready for that. yoongi seems to understand without a word, his movements respectful yet insistent. he kisses his way down jeongguk’s spine, each press of his lips coaxing another soft whimper from him. yoongi’s hands slide down, working to remove the rest of their clothing with ease, the room gradually filling with the quiet rustle of fabric.

once they’re bare, yoongi moves closer, his body aligning perfectly with jeongguk’s. he grinds against him slowly, their skin sliding together in a rhythm that’s both comforting and electrifying. jeongguk’s hips twitch in response, his breath catching as yoongi’s hand slips lower, teasing.

yoongi doesn’t speak, which is unusual for him. normally, his mouth would be running fast, dirty, and shamelessly. jeongguk, too, is strangely quiet; there are no incoherent murmurs, no soft pleadings tumbling from his lips. the only sounds in the room are their low groans and quiet whimpers.

yoongi’s fingers trail between jeongguk’s thighs, his touch firm and deliberate. when he pushes a slick finger inside, jeongguk lets out a shuddering exhale, his body arching back into yoongi’s chest. yoongi moves with practiced ease, adding another finger, his movements measured and thorough, coaxing jeongguk into soft, breathless moans.

it’s different, this quiet intimacy. yoongi seems to know instinctively that jeongguk doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to look into his eyes and see his understanding there. right now, jeongguk needs this—quick, dirty, and grounding. something to remind him he’s here, he’s wanted. yoongi knows exactly how to give it to him.

they do everything in silence, which is unusual to them since yoongi has a fast and naughty mouth, and jeongguk is loud and responsive and always mumbles incoherent shit when yoongi has his hands or mouth or dick inside of him.

it's all working well until yoongi pulls out and—

wait.

he pulled out.

why the hell did he pull out?

“h-hyung. why did you pull out? are you mad at me?” jeongguk asks, bewildered.

yoongi frowns in confusion. “what? no, jeongguk-ah! i’m-”

“you are!” jeongguk interrupts, his heart sinking in his chest. “oh god, you are, and here i am head over heels for you, and you don’t even wanna fuck me—”

“baby, what the hell are you saying?” yoongi cuts in, his tone hovering between exasperated and affectionate.

“i saw you with that other model, yoongi!” jeongguk blurts out, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. “i watched you all day! it’s so obvious, that’s why you haven’t said you love me yet, because you don’t! oh my god, i’m such a fucking idiot!”

“jeongguk,” yoongi says firmly, placing both hands on jeongguk’s shoulders and grounding him with his touch. “can you please just hear me out for one second?”

jeongguk’s chest heaves with uneven breaths, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. but he nods, biting his lip as he forces himself to listen.

“first of all,” yoongi starts, letting out a deep sigh, “i pulled out because i was going to get more lube. to make things more comfortable. now i don’t think that’s happening anymore.”

“oh,” jeongguk mumbles, his face immediately flushing. “i, uh...”

“second,” yoongi continues, his voice softening, but now with a hint of teasing. “i was working. and you were literally there the entire time, glaring at me so hard i thought you were going to set me on fire. so i know you saw that nothing happened. because nothing would happen. because nothing would happen. i'm dating you, jeongguk.”

jeongguk pouts, crossing his arms. “i wasn’t glaring.”

“you were,” yoongi replies, his lips curving into a smirk. “but it’s okay. no one else noticed.”

jeongguk narrows his eyes. “and how are you so sure i was glaring?”

“because i was glaring right back at you the whole time, baby.”

the admission makes jeongguk shiver, his pout dissolving into something softer. it's physically impossible to stay mad at yoongi for too long.

“i promise, you’re the only one for me. i only have eyes for you. i haven’t said it yet because i wanted it to be special—not something rushed or thrown around in the middle of our chaotic lives. i thought you hadn’t said it either because you wanted it to be perfect.”

“i mean, i am the last romantic alive, but i was waiting for you to say it first, so i could say it back. i almost said it a million times!”

“i've almost said it a million times too. whenever i look at you, i think about it.”

jeongguk lets out a tiny whine. “i feel so stupid,” he mumbles, pouting again.

“don’t,” yoongi murmurs, pulling him closer. “just—just talk to me, baby. whatever you’re thinking, you can just say it. just talk to me before you start spiraling.”

“okay,” jeongguk agrees, lips curving into a shy smile. “next time i'll use my words, i guess.”

yoongi hums, brushing his nose lightly against jeongguk’s. “good. because in case you hadn't noticed, i really like talking to you. even when you’re being dramatic.”

“god, imagine if i had overreacted,” jeongguk jokes, a sheepish laugh escaping him.

yoongi chuckles, his thumb brushing gently over jeongguk’s cheek. “you’re so silly.” his voice softens, tender and reassuring. “you don’t have to worry about anything, my love. i’m so yours.”

jeongguk leans into yoongi’s touch, the weight in his chest lifting. “i know. i'd be lying if i said i'm not gonna throw another tantrum out of jealousy at some point, though.”

yoongi's eyes sparkle with affection. “i'll remind you that you're my only one every single time you do.”

jeongguk smiles. “and i think we need a break from work. like, seriously—fuck. i’m so tired. and… i also think we should come forward. i hate hiding our relationship.”

“i agree,” yoongi says without hesitation. “i don’t think anything bad will happen. honestly, who even cares if we’re dating? what does it change?”

jeongguk snorts. “maybe no one cares, but do you remember when that girl quit because she fell in love with jimin?”

yoongi smiles at the memory, shaking his head fondly. “that’s different. jimin isn’t just a model, he’s an idol. and also, taehyung made sure to scare her away.”

“taehyung is a psycho,” jeongguk mutters with mock disbelief.

“you’re not that far off from being just as possessive with me.”

jeongguk rolls his eyes playfully but can’t suppress the small laugh that bubbles up.

yoongi’s expression softens again, his hand finding jeongguk’s and lacing their fingers together. “we’ll do it right. together. deal?”

jeongguk squeezes yoongi’s hand, his gaze steady and full of trust. “deal.”

the agreement lingers in the air, soft and full of promise. but suddenly, jeongguk becomes acutely aware that they’re still naked, both of their dicks limp by now. his face heats up, and yoongi, ever perceptive, seems to catch on at the exact same time.

“why don’t we run a bubble bath?” yoongi suggests casually. “have you seen the size of that bathtub? it’s huge. i think we deserve to relax a little bit. it's been a long freaking month.”

jeongguk exhales a laugh, some of the tension melting away. “that’s a nice idea.”

he moves first, padding toward the opulent bathroom while yoongi trails after him. jeongguk gets the tub running, sprinkling in some bath salts and bubbles. unfortunately, there are no candles, but he turns the overhead lights down low, leaving only the soft glow of the fancy hotel lamps on. it feels cozy enough.

he slips into the tub, the warmth soothing his skin, and yoongi joins him right after, settling across from him, their legs touching under the water.

neither of them speaks at first. they simply relax, the only sound being the gentle lapping of water against porcelain. jeongguk glances at yoongi, his features even softer in the dim light. he notices the faint shadows under his eyes—proof of how hard yoongi works, how much he gives without complaint. he’s been finding it harder to hide the exhaustion lately, and jeongguk knows it isn’t just because they stay up most nights tangled up in each other.

the job is freaking hard, and excelling at it, as yoongi does, only makes it harder.

jeongguk shifts uncomfortably, still feeling awkward about his earlier overreaction. but yoongi doesn’t let him linger on it for long. he starts a conversation, light and easy, as if nothing had happened, and jeongguk finds himself relaxing into it. the warmth of the water, the way yoongi’s voice wraps around him like a blanket—it all feels so natural, so safe, that jeongguk forgets whatever was bothering him in the first place.

later, when they’re lying in bed, jeongguk is only half-awake, his limbs heavy with contentment. but even in his drowsy state, he insists, “i can’t sleep without skincare. that’s like the only rule i ever follow.”

“i'll do it for you,” yoongi offers, sitting up beside him.

“that’s impossible to deny,” jeongguk mumbles, eyes still closed. he’ll always take any opportunity to have yoongi’s hands on him.

yoongi takes his time applying each product with gentle care. jeongguk doesn’t even have to peek to know that yoongi is concentrating, his brows furrowed in that adorable way they do when he’s focused. the soft touch of his fingers against jeongguk’s skin feels like a lullaby.

“you’re using your ring finger,” jeongguk points out when yoongi dabs eye cream under his eyes.

“it’s the gentlest finger,” yoongi replies simply.

“oh, is it?”

“yes,” yoongi hums. “my favorite person in the world taught me that.”

jeongguk bites down a smile. “he sounds like a genius.”

“he is,” yoongi says, voice softening. “i love him madly, you know.”

jeongguk’s eyes snap open, his heart skipping at the casual confession. yoongi doesn’t look up, just keeps smoothing moisturizer over his cheeks with a tenderness that feels like a secret whispered in the dark. but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his eyes are warm, warm, the warmest.

“i love you so much,” jeongguk breathes, his voice trembling just enough to give him away.

yoongi leans down, kissing him softly, his lips slow and deliberate like he’s trying to tell jeongguk a thousand things all at once. “i’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” he murmurs.

jeongguk shakes his head, wrapping his arms around yoongi’s waist and pulling him close. “you can say it whenever you want,” he whispers, smiling against yoongi’s lips. “just never stop.”

xx

the remainder of the trip blurs together in a rush of camera flashes, mirrored disco balls, and endless runways. the well known mix of glamour and chaos, both exhilarating and exhausting.

when it’s finally over, though, the pace slows. they wander through the cobbled streets, hands intertwined like they’ve always belonged this way. it’s not the sun-soaked vacation jeongguk dreams of yet; no sprawling beaches or lazy mornings. but it’s something. 

the city feels alive around them, all soft golden light and the hum of distant street performers. jeongguk feels it in his chest, in the steady thrum of his heart. and for once, he’s not thinking about anything else. not the expectations of their careers or the pressure to stay hidden. the only thing that exists is yoongi’s hand in his, their intertwined fingers, and how right it feels.

he lets himself revel in it. in the way yoongi’s thumb brushes idly over his knuckles, like a quiet reminder: i’m here. i’m yours. it’s simple, and it has always been there, but it ignites something fierce in jeongguk’s chest. 

he really doesn’t want to hide anymore. it's not something he suggested on a whim. he's willing to deal with whatever consequences that may come with it.

because he feels like shouting it from the rooftops, letting the entire world know what they have. he wants every camera pointed at them, every lens to capture this truth: that no matter how much anyone might want min yoongi, no one else will ever have him. yoongi is his. completely.

jeongguk tightens his grip, pulling yoongi a little closer as they walk. the corners of yoongi’s lips curl into a soft smile, and jeongguk thinks, yeah. i wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with him, actually.

SAINT-TROPEZ

the sunlight in saint-tropez is nothing short of a miracle, spilling through the gauzy curtains of their private villa like liquid gold. the sound of the waves crashing lazily against the shore fills the air, blending seamlessly with the rustle of palm leaves swaying in the breeze. everything about this place feels like it belongs in a dream—soft, hazy, and endlessly inviting.

as it turns out, nobody actually cared that min yoongi is dating his makeup artist. well, they cared for about a day—until a-list actor kim namjoon tripped over his own feet at the miu miu show and landed squarely in the lap of a royal family member seated in the front row. 

the internet was quick to devour the absurdity of the situation with hunger, birthing about a billion memes. and by the time the week was over, the fact that min yoongi and jeon jeongguk are boyfriends were already old news.

finally being at the beach with yoongi feels like a well-earned reward after months of relentless work. the endless runways, photoshoots, and late-night fittings feel like a lifetime ago now that they’re here. surely there are new heights waiting for them to conquer, but for now, just resting together is more than enough.

finally being here with yoongi feels like a triumph, a well-earned reward after months of relentless work. the endless runways, photoshoots, and late-night fittings feel like a lifetime ago now that they’re here. surely there are new heights waiting for them to conquer, but for now, this—just the two of them resting together in sunlit bliss—is more than enough.

it's even better than jeongguk dreamed of.

jeongguk is the first to wake up, stretching lazily against the cool linen sheets, his muscles pleasantly sore from the night before. he turns his head to find yoongi still sleeping beside him, his face serene, hair deliciously mussed, and one arm draped possessively over jeongguk’s waist.

it’s rare to see yoongi so unguarded, and jeongguk takes a moment to memorize the sight before him—the soft rise and fall of his chest, the sunlight kissing his barefaced skin, the faint smile tugging at his lips even in sleep. he's so breathtakingly beautiful.

unable to resist, jeongguk leans over to press a feather-light kiss to yoongi’s cheek. “wake up, hyung,” he whispers, voice warm with affection, because he loves his boyfriend so much it quite literally drips from his tongue.

yoongi stirs, groaning softly as he burrows deeper into jeongguk’s side, his body pliant and warm. “five more minutes,” he mumbles, voice even thicker with sleep, the sound of it melting something deep inside jeongguk.

but jeongguk isn’t having it. he wants attention, and yoongi isn’t giving it to him.

his mind suddenly sparks with mischief.

“jeongguk-ah,” yoongi mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“yes?” jeongguk replies innocently, though what he's doing betrays him, a grin spreading across his face.

“can you go five hours without touching my dick?”

jeongguk snickers, biting his lower lip as a laugh escapes. “no,” he admits. “is that a problem?”

yoongi hums, so low and lazy that it's practically a purr. jeongguk has this crazy theory that yoongi is actually a kitten that has been enchanted by a witch, and no amount of time in human form has shaken his feline tendencies. it's the only plausible explanation as to why this man has the ability to purr.

 “not at all.”

xx

the clouds mix in multiple shades of lilacs, pinks, oranges and golden streaks in the sky. they’re lounging on a daybed, the cushions cozy and inviting, the scent of salt and blooming hibiscus carried on the gentle breeze. the ocean sparkles in the distance, waves rolling lazily against the shore, and the occasional sound of seagulls filling the air.

yoongi leans back, his posture relaxed, a cold drink resting forgotten on the small table beside him. jeongguk is seated at the edge of the daybed, cross-legged, with a sketchpad balanced on his lap. he’s been doodling idly—the colors giving him endless inspiration, little sketches of trees, seashells, and the ocean view before them filling up the pages—his lips quirking into a soft smile whenever he gets lost in his thoughts.

“my starry eyed boy,” yoongi says softly.

jeongguk looks up, surprised but smiling, cheeks kissed pink by the sun—or maybe by yoongi’s words. he's watching jeongguk with the kind of gaze that could make even the sun jealous. “what?”

“you see the world with such wonder,” yoongi continues, almost like he’s thinking aloud. “i’m so in love with you.”

jeongguk’s smile grows, a shy laugh bubbling out of him as he sets the sketchpad aside. he leans closer, resting a hand on yoongi's knee for balance. “i love you,” he replies simply. it's so easy to say it now.

“how could i not fall in love with the gentleness of your touch?” yoongi murmurs, his hand reaching out to trace a line down jeongguk’s tattooed arm.

jeongguk shifts closer, resting his head against yoongi’s shoulder. “you’re such a poet when we’re on vacation,” he teases, but the way his voice shakes ever so slightly betrays just how much those words mean to him.

yoongi chuckles, his hand settling on jeongguk’s thigh, his touch light but grounding. “i guess you inspire me,” he says, his voice as soft as the waves lapping at the shore.

xx

when min yoongi touches jeon jeongguk, the world feels like it moves in slow motion.

barefaced days and sun painted cheeks. the lazy sprawl of limbs on warm sand, the golden light kissing every exposed inch of skin, honeysuckle lips and the faint taste of spritz shared between them. dazzling gazes and lingering touches in linen sheets, the crispiness of ice-cold water paired with salt-kissed limbs and the soft indent of steps trailing behind them on the shore, fleeting and delicate, rare and unforgettable.

when min yoongi touches jeon jeongguk, it feels like standing at the edge of dawn, where the night surrenders to the first blush of morning, when the stars give space to the sun. it’s the quiet promise of warmth spreading over his skin, the soft hum of waves that seem to echo the rhythm of yoongi’s heartbeat.

jeongguk touches yoongi, and yoongi touches him back, and they fall in love again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again—