Electric Feel

“Sorry,” Taehyung snickers uselessly, not sorry at all and rarely ever apologetic towards something so intentional. Jeongguk knows this best, all that assplay that they engage in onstage for the fans. To spank or to be spanked is their motto after all. “Want me to massage it all better?"

“My asscheek nearly fell the fuck off,” Jeongguk grumbles, peeling off his stage jacket with maximum difficulty. Beads of sweat glide down his jawline, and he catches them with his wrist. Fuck all this sweat, too. “Seriously, hyung, quit spanking me so hard. It hurts.”

“So no to massaging it all better?”

“No.”

Tonight marks Taehyung’s new high score of 7-4—Jeongguk’s been keeping track because there’s no way in hell he could trust Taehyung to, the incessant cheater—with most of those points gained from their unrelenting ass-spanking battle during Dope, enough for even the tech crew to catch on. Jeongguk will be paying his loss back in full with his mouth later at the dorm, not that he ever had any qualms with giving Taehyung head. Taehyung almost always followed up by giving Jeongguk the ride of his life. The only real damage that matters here is that passive inkling of pride wedged in his skull.

“Fine. Quit being such a whiny shit, then. Got your panties in a bunch,” Taehyung mocks, like Jeongguk's no fun for admitting the pain in his stinging asscheek, like he’s the worst sport in their little game of groping. Taehyung reaches across the minion of staff dabbing at their sweat to pinch the tip of his nose. “I’ll let you spank me next time as hard as you want. Fair?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Unreliable.”

“Compromisable,” Taehyung corrects, slipping off his soggy shirt and drying the sweat smeared on the underside of his fringe with the wadded material. Jeongguk tries not to stare, not obviously , stares through the mirror instead. It’s practical, for something so impossible, but Taehyung isn’t one to mind. “This is a war zone, soldier. No such thing as loyalty, here, just mutual concession.” Taehyung raises a finger. “And plenty of ass for the taking.”

“Mutual con—what are you even saying?”

“Respective benefits? Equitable trade-off?”

“Jesus Christ.” Jeongguk sighs, but he's amused, easily catches onto the drift in Taehyung’s way of speaking. He fell in love with Taehyung for this very reason, the upbeat quirks of his personality and high tendency to spew shit that only really made sense in his own head. And Yoongi’s, in some misplaced logic. “How are you benefiting from this?”

Taehyung tips his chin up and smiles. Wriggles his brows a bit. “You really wanna know?”

“No, Namjoon hyung does,” Jeongguk deadpans, sarcastic. “Obviously I wanna know. Quit being—rhetorical or whatever.”

“What do I wanna know?” Namjoon answers near the couch, half-naked and typing away at his phone.

“Nothing.” Then Jeongguk frowns, not because he's resolved to pity seeking, but because he's still bitter after Taehyung’s fine shot at his dignity.

He sheds away his shirt, and this time Taehyung is the victim of staring, a kind of satisfaction washing over his face that makes Jeongguk’s skin tingle. Something too intimate for a scenario that involves this many people, but he can’t deny that he loves how appreciated it makes him feel. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re not alone, so Jeongguk chucks the ball of sweaty, overpriced fabric and hits Taehyung square in the chest.

“Spacing out again, loser,” Jeongguk says, then. “Just spit it out.”

“Spit what out?” Taehyung hums innocently, now changed out of all those stage layers and back into his casual clothes. Something tastefully monochromatic that he can swim laps in. Sloppy with intention.

“Why are you avoiding the question,” Jeongguk squints suspiciously now, collapsing on the couch after his own change of his clothes, jostling Yoongi’s slumped form at the other end. “Mutualism. How are you benefitting from the compromise? What’s in it for you, huh?”

Taehyung, still musky and tinged with drying sweat, trust falls onto the couch beside Jeongguk, flush up against his side, and it is anything but innocent. The hand gripping the swell of his bicep, stroking circles into the firm muscle, is every indication. Years of dating under the watchful eyes of the industry has taught him to value the simple touches, learn the difference between one that said, I love you and another that meant I want to fuck you. He knew Taehyung’s touches just as well as Taehyung knew his, second skin that he wore like his own.

Granted this touch felt nice, pleasant. He wants to think about the gesture a bit more, question what’s gone through Taehyung’s head to get him this discreetly turned on, so what is it this time? It’s the way I’m sitting, isn’t it? But he doesn't have much time to think about it at all because Taehyung is already leaning in with all that impulse, hooks his chin over Jeongguk's shoulder to share his post-stage body heat, and whispers—

“Maybe I just want to be spanked.”

Boom. Equitable trade-off™.

Joke or not, Jeongguk never quite forgets these words, even later at dance practice when Taehyung pretends to never have said them at all.

▲

“You guys ever gonna cool it with the spanking?”

It’s an innocent enough question, the way Jimin asks, poised at the dining table and out of it. Yet it still catches Jeongguk off guard enough that he inhales milk down the wrong pipe and chokes on all that liquid, setting down the carton he’d just directly drank from. Jimin is staring at him with a worried look that’s so distinctly Jimin when Jeongguk finally chills enough to look at him properly, eyes watery and throat burning.

“You good?” Jimin asks, looking real close to getting up and helping him.

“Good—just, give me a second,” Jeongguk rasps between coughs, voice strained. Fuck, it’s too early for this. Then, “What?”

Jimin gives him a weird look. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, no,” Jeongguk motions ambiguously in the air with his hand. “Before.”

“Oh, about the spanking?” Jimin says and sits back down. “I was just talking about you and Taehyung going at it like bunnies with all the butt slapping.”

“It’s just a game,” Jeongguk says and chugs down more milk before closing the carton and stuffing it back into the fridge, right beside the expired liter of juice. “You know we like to play onstage.”

“I do, but like. Shit, that’s a lot of ass touching, man,” Jimin huffs, tossing back the rest of his cereal. “Like Finding Nemo or whatever.”

Again, “What?”

“‘I’m gonna go touch the butt’?”

“Is that before or after Nemo fucks up and ends up in a tank?”

“Before? Dude, that’s the only reason he ends up in the fish tank with Al Pacino.”

“Oh my God,” Jeongguk groans and feels his soul materialize right before his eyes. “Oh my God. You mean Scarface, hyung. And the fish’s name is Gil. Fuck, you’re a mess.”

Jimin lifts his spoon. “Point is—touch the butt too much and you’ll also get tanked.”

“What are you getting at?” Jeongguk squints and leans back against the oven.

“I don’t know,” Jimin shrugs. “I just don’t want the fans to start thinking you guys have some kink for spanking is all.”

And Jeongguk coughs. “Right.”

“Don’t tell me y—”

This is where Taehyung decides to make his appearance in nothing but his boxers, shuffling out of Jeongguk and Namjoon’s shared room with closed eyes. They watch him trudge his way to the fridge beside Jeongguk, hair a tousled bird’s nest and feet sweeping across the floors, too exhausted to lift them, too tired to care. On any other occasion, this would be an innocent act of morning dehydration, nothing worthy of a double take (for Jimin, at least—Jeongguk will never get used to seeing Taehyung’s exposed body). But the evident hickies and bruises littering Taehyung’s hip bones, scattered all along his flat belly and across his lower back, shatters that illusion to pieces, and Jeongguk feels heat rise up to his cheeks at the gaze Jimin currently bores into his skull.

Seriously? It says, but Jeongguk has no words and chooses to ignore.

“Morning,” Taehyung slurs tiredly, voice still rough with sleep. He leans in to drop a quick kiss on Jeongguk’s flushed cheek, misses a little and kisses just below his eye.

“Hey,” Jeongguk says, fondly nudging his nose against Taehyung’s temple before Taehyung pulls away.

“Morning, Jiminie.”

“Sup.”

But Taehyung’s habit of sleepily wandering around with closed eyes was never his best trait, and here, with Jeongguk and Jimin telepathically arguing across the kitchen, Taehyung reaches for the bottle of Coke sitting on the counter and knocks the value pack of ramyun to the floor. Taehyung groans and bends down to pick it up, and as he does so, the elastic lining of his boxers rides up just a little more from the stretch. It’s the perfect view, what with Taehyung’s ass right in his line of sight, and fuck, Jeongguk really can’t help but stare.

Then Jimin’s clearing his throat, and Taehyung’s throwing the bag back onto the counter and exiting the kitchen, and Jeongguk’s shuffling in place awkwardly under Jimin’s eye roll.

He says, “Damn, you’re already tanked.”

▲

A real inconvenience. That’s all this really translates to.

“No one’s allowed to laugh,” Jimin had reminded, bending down for the punishment.

This would have been another day in the slam chillin’ life if Taehyung wasn’t as subtle as Namjoon’s boner for Sigmund Freud, a real raging son of a bitch that doesn’t allow so much leeway in a situation as such. But good ol’ Taehyung with his inability for subtly just had to go and chuckle that fucking chipmunk giggle of his, nose tucked against the crown of Jeongguk’s hair to muffle the bubbling from his chest. As if it wasn’t already a distraction with Taehyung this close, craned over his body and wafting all that fresh, citrusy cologne into his keen airway.

Jimin, with Yoongi’s hand on his asscheek, insists. “If someone laughs, they get hit by me, right?”

Yoongi, with his hand still on Jimin’s asscheck, acknowledges. “Right.”

But against a player as no-nonsense as Yoongi, it’s no surprise that Taehyung gets benched for the spanking punishment, too. A loser in most practices, but really just lacking the self-evidence to play along. You’d think it’d be easy—that A, B, C, one, two, three elementary shit. Yet Jeongguk still finds himself suffering with an emotional boner that threatens to escalate into one of those real problems that causes real consequences. And now he’s getting thirsty.

Jeongguk would call Taehyung out for it, getting caught by Yoongi for laughing, that is, for being a hopeless buffoon if he weren’t trying out this new diet where he keeps and maintains some level of respect for Taehyung as a hyung, boyfriend or not. He’s all about that mutual chemistry and respect, being straight up without age as a dictator. But Taehyung looks a little cute like this anyway, cheeks barely dusted pink with embarrassment when he makes his way around the table in that flimsy white sweater of his, subdued laughter alight at the back of his throat. Never realizing the consequences until he’s already neck deep and biting the shame.

Jeongguk eyes the punishment board discarded off to the side and the purple scraps of construction paper littering the floors. In a group of seven boys, they meet perpetual expectations of their youth, nearly every single punishment on that board relating to asses like the goddamn perverts they are. But boy is it all fun and games until Taehyung decides to get antsy enough to border on sly, earning a carefully poised eyebrow from Jeongguk who knows when to be expectant. Because Taehyung was spontaneous, and that was dangerous for someone as inherently curious as Jeongguk. What the fuck was he up to now?

“Hyung, you do it,” Yoongi chirps, passes the duty with predatory guard over to Seokjin and shuffles around the tight space. He says, “Make it funny for the fans.”

But nothing is even remotely humorous about this, not with Taehyung so obedient and bending down to ready himself with all this casual vibe that makes him shiver. All Jeongguk is thinking about are the words Taehyung had whispered to him weeks ago, maybe I just want to be spanked.

The inconvenience comes into play when Seokjin pushes at Taehyung’s shoulder with a wide palm to maneuver him for the cameras, nudging him lower until Taehyung is bracing a hand on the table just to steady himself from toppling forward. Ass in the air, no one really grasps the weight of this filthy situation but Jeongguk. He steels his expression into something indifferent—one of those deft poker faces finely tuned after years in entertainment—and stretches over the surface of the table to get a good look at what’s his. All mine, he thinks with a glittery shimmer of utmost pride. So down for this.

“Push your butt all the way back,” Yoongi directs for the camera angle, and it’s all so absurdly normal, the way no one else in this room knows this is the exact position Jeongguk fucks Taehyung in when they’re constrained to those tiny restroom stalls

Normal.

A lot like sipping on lemonade in the park on a sunny day with pinkies pointed to the sky like the good mannered boys they are. The only difference is the replacement of manners with the glorious curve of Taehyung’s backside zealously perking up higher, higher, the same ass Jeongguk had bouncing in his lap just last night that is nowhere near as platonic as this scenario paints. If he gets shameless past the public eye, he can still hear the sound of Taehyung’s ass slapping against his thighs in rhythmic disarray and those desperate little whimpers falling from his pretty mouth.

Jeongguk’s not stupid though—he knows the deep arch in Taehyung’s slender back is no coincidence, entirely futile in the events of viewer entertainment and all for personal amusement in that impish way that Taehyung gets. The kind that tugs that plump bottom lip between his teeth. Jeongguk’s tongue is thick like sand in his mouth at the art that is his boyfriend, pliant and so ready to be spanked by someone that isn’t him. And for what? For Jeongguk’s viewing pleasure, and shit is he turned on past intelligence. Maybe even a little jealous and bitter that Yoongi didn’t ask him to do it, but he’s also a lot aroused and can’t really complain when his boy is putting on a show. Just for him.

Jeongguk licks his lips when all those dots finally connect in that steadfast brain of his, mind reduced to mostly particles of fuzz and mouth parted as he watches Seokjin position his palm just barely at the side of Taehyung’s ass, touches a little, and Jeongguk doesn’t even mind.

He holds his breath, then—

Smack.

At the force of Seokjin’s palm, Taehyung’s body jolts forward so nicely, lower back arching down and curving just that much more. Jeongguk swears he almost groans around all that heat building up in his stomach but gargles the noise right back down his throat, almost chokes from Taehyung’s unabashed teasing. Except Jeongguk knows just how sensitive Taehyung gets, how much he loves it when Jeongguk manhandles him, the way he’ll persistently bug him just to get a particular reaction. Taehyung is a sucker for that flare of nonpareil irritation that possesses Jeongguk to wrap him up with strong arms and toss him away, how much that riles Taehyung up and gets him hot between his legs. Those simple details that make his boyfriend weak in the knees and weaker in self-control.

And Jeongguk doesn’t need to feel to know the shiver of arousal that rattled right down Taehyung’s spine from the spanking. No one will ever know better than him.

So sure, it’s not Jeongguk’s palm spanking him, but it's Jeongguk's eyes watching him get spanked, watching him receive his punishment with vibrating anticipation, and he can't help going parched in the mouth because Taehyung looks good like this, fucking dazzling. And God, if he isn't painfully turned on under all this clothing, a whole three layers of unnecessary cotton and denim. Judging by the look Seokjin steers at him, he’s not the only one that knows this, but the look is a fueled challenge that Jeongguk decides to ignore and slides off the table, focuses on finishing up the rest of the filming with sin lingering in the near horizon of his buzzing mind. He hates that Taehyung looks nothing but sheepish when they shuffle back to their seats, the tiny curve of his mouth an obvious giveaway of his indirect seducing.

Jeongguk’s so damn whipped that he can’t even be annoyed.

But this wouldn’t have been an issue three spanks ago, and now he can’t stop thinking about bending Taehyung over his knees and spanking him till he's sobbing, palm smacking that tender ass and reddening the supple flesh only to have Taehyung begging for more. Jeongguk can already picture how embarrassed Taehyung will get, the pretty crimson glow along his cheekbones to match the glow on his asscheeks when Jeongguk asks if he likes getting spanked, the way he’ll shake his head when he offers to stop. Always so easy to embarrass, fidgeting in the face of insecurity and timidly smiling when he was the butt of any joke. He loves it when he can get Taehyung so worked up to a loss of words, lowering his head to hide all that shame when Jeongguk relentlessly teases him in front of the cameras and fans, loves it even more when he dips his fingers into Taehyung’s underwear later to find him soaking down to the backs of his thighs. Loves it when he gets his boy sensitive from words alone.

“There’s a song we absolutely have to listen to right now,” Yoongi’s voice chimes and cuts through his dirty mind.

“What is it?” Namjoon recites.

And everyone. “Fire!”

Allotted to play his part as a non-perverted idol, Jeongguk clears his throat and wills away those debauched thoughts. Needs to ice his persisting boner or something.

But it’s all such a fucking inconvenience when they’ve still got one last segment to film, and Jeongguk conjures up what’s left of his composure to subdue the vivid imaginations enough to fend the urges away, stores the idea at the back of his mind where his conscious can't reach, where his fingertips don’t itch to touch—no longer a disturbance to his murky brain stream, but not entirely forgotten, either.

Just, later.

Comeback season boils down to one big battle of how many quickies you can squeeze into a day’s schedule—Jeongguk and Taehyung have this mastered down to an art. Because when you’re this accustomed to mutual handjobs in-between stages, a twenty minute drive to the next schedule after a radio filming provides the perfect window of time to get each other off. And, with extra time for some foreplay.

It’s a luxury against those brambly carpeted floors at MBC that burn grainy imprints on Jeongguk’s knees when he’s blowing Taehyung like a goddamn champ, deepthroating and shit, but he can’t really complain when he’s got Taehyung deliciously thrusting into his mouth like he does sometimes, when it’s too good, too much. The shit he’ll do to please his baby boy.

But things stopped being about where they would fuck and more about when they would fuck ever since the popularity set in—their sex life was really just one big public affair anyway. The catch: the public never knew when they were fucking next door.

The digital clock on the dash at the front of the van glows a little past midnight, and exhaustion sets in with all that backed up arousal. Taehyung sidles up to his side, warm and a little fidgety in a way that’s familiar to Jeongguk, the kind of jitters where he wants to get boned, preferably now, preferably hard. Jimin had joined them in this van with the hyungs in the other, passed out cold in shotgun and head tilted to nestle against his plush neck pillow. It’s just enough privacy for happenings to transpire in the back without notice, what with an entire row’s separation that will grant them good release. A little more to bask in the afterglow.

His mind, a busy, worked up thing, is in the midst of considering how they’re going to do this when Taehyung beats him to it, leans in close to breathe hot air against the shell of his ear, a huff that rivals the heat of the hand gripping Taehyung’s knee.

“Babe,” Taehyung whispers languidly, already sounding so wrecked. Feeble voice trembling around the edges and threatening to crumble.

Jeongguk wets his lips and glances to the front, checks to see if anyone’s watching, if anyone’s got their nose where it doesn’t belong. With earphones already plugged in, he‘s certain Jimin isn’t going to wake up anytime soon, judging from the light snores dribbling from his nose. Because being an idol made everyone a heavy sleeper and a fast one at that. It was end game once head met doable, cushioned surface.

Jeongguk shifts his attention back to the warmth at his side and nudges his nose against Taehyung’s temple, buries into all those bleached strands.

“Hm?” he sighs, noses against the soft hair of his sideburns and grips his knee a little firmer. A bit more indicative. Strokes his thumb back and forth. “What is it?”

The question is rhetorical, of course it is, because by now, Jeongguk knows exactly what Taehyung wants, he knows exactly how to use up every single minute in their time frame to make him tremble. Twenty minutes, give or take, is more than enough time to make Taehyung come so hard he could cry. Jeongguk can’t deny that he loves the sound of a desperate plea, so wrought with need and only ever from his boyfriend’s mouth. And it’s exactly what he wants right now.

“I just, can you—” Taehyung gulps down moisture into his parched throat and scrabbles for the hand stroking his knee. He wraps long fingers around Jeongguk’s wrist and guides it between his thighs, right against the source of radiating heat. The fabric of his slacks is already damp at the crotch, wet since the moment Jeongguk had watched him get spanked, and Jeongguk would feel bad for making him wait all this time if it weren’t for the fact that he'd waited just as long. They’re both a little sexually frustrated and out of their minds, here. Both a little delirious.

“God, so cute. Look at you, wet for me already,” Jeongguk whispers, right up against his ear so only Taehyung can hear it, always. He feels the harsh shiver course through his body, the way it makes Taehyung’s cock twitch and thighs flinch together tightly to trap Jeongguk’s hand between them. “You want me to touch you?”

“Please,” Taehyung nods, drops his head and tugs his bottom lip between blunt teeth. He knows how much Jeongguk loves it when he says, please. The way he uses his manners when he’s begging. Taehyung loves being good for Jeongguk.

Jeongguk’s palm gives in and presses at the pulsing bulge beneath his hand, satisfied with the way Taehyung’s mouth falls open in a silent whimper, hips squirming against the leather of the seat and bucking forward. Coming from someone so ardently vocal behind closed doors, Jeongguk knows he’s struggling to keep quiet in this confined, four-wheel space, abdomen tense from the sound restraint. His shoulders shake trying to hold back another surprised moan when Jeongguk grinds the heel of his palm against the growing patch of moisture. Always such a mess before Jeongguk has even properly touched him.

“Like this?” Jeongguk whispers gently.

“Like that,” Taehyung twists his torso and buries the words in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck, barely audible through a stuttering exhale. “Jeongguk, more. Please.”

Jeongguk drags his palm up Taehyung’s inner thigh, squeezes the meat up to his knee, and basks in the way Taehyung’s entire body quivers under the pressure. Hooking a hand under the crook of Taehyung’s knee, he hitches the limb across his own lap to spread Taehyung’s legs apart before bringing his palm back down against the clothed erection. Spoils him and gropes a little lower.

Taehyung dips further into his neck and frantically shakes his head in response to all this lovely stimulation, so blissfully unsure if he wants more or to clamp his legs back together. Worried, even, because although they've had car sex enough times to call it tradition, this is the first time cutting it so close to the risk of getting caught, but the rush of adrenaline is dangerously exhilarating. Getting touched in the back of a van to a wet, sticky mess while being chauffeured to another location. The crudeness of the situation amplifies every touch, every breath, and Taehyung can’t quite see straight.

“You know I love it when you spread wide for me, right baby?” Jeongguk whispers, thankful for the humming of music through the car speakers to drown out their quiet exchange. He swiftly glances to the front. “So pretty. And so easy to finger like this — ” Jeongguk emphasizes, slides his hand further down into the space between Taehyung’s ass and the car seat to graze a fingertip right over the sopping hole through the fabric of his pants. Feels Taehyung jolt and rock right into his open palm, wanting more as he slouches lower in his seat to get closer to that delicious pressure.

“Fuck, fuck,” Taehyung whimpers quietly against Jeongguk’s already sweaty neck from his heady gasping, the condensation of his silent moans. He covers the hand working between his legs with his own and doesn’t stall to rut against the friction, pressing harder. They’re on a time crunch here. “Fuck, Jeongguk, come on.”

“Hyung, we have time, don’t worry,” Jeongguk reassures easily but obliges, finally slips his fingers past the waistband and delightfully discovers that Taehyung isn't wearing boxers when he comes in direct contact with the moist heat. Jeongguk wraps his hand around the leaking cock and leans back a little to look Taehyung in the face. “You went commando today?”

A tiny gasp escapes Taehyung’s mouth when Jeongguk smears the fluid dribbling from the tip, cants his hips into the loose fist. “No, I—took them off after the radio recording. To make it easier.”

“Taehyung, fuck,” Jeongguk groans into his ear and fondly kisses his temple. “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby. Hear you scream my name.”

“S—shit. You too,” Taehyung mumbles weakly, mind a wild blur from how much he needs this. He reaches between Jeongguk’s legs to palm at the straining bulge behind denim, moves to fumble with the button and zipper.

Jeongguk sighs through his nose when Taehyung’s nimble fingers get past the fabric to wrap around his neglected cock, huge hand gripping nearly more than half of his length when he pumps, once, twice, strokes over the sensitive head before dragging his fist back down. Milks a thick bead of precome on the upstroke. Jeongguk retaliates by jerking Taehyung off in a matching rhythm and buries his nose at the crown of Taehyung’s hair to muffle his grunts from how good this feels after such a long day of schedules.

Taehyung’s hand game alone had Jeongguk at his beck and call.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk grinds out, twisting at the base of Taehyung’s weeping cock. “God, yes.”

“Nnh—” Taehyung gasps. “Religious much?”

“Fuck off,” Jeongguk snarls quietly, tugs a little rougher.

Taehyung fucks into the ring of Jeongguk’s hand, seeking more of that excruciatingly leisure friction that Jeongguk likes to set, slouches more in his seat for better leverage in the limited space of the back seat that’s more leg than leg space. Taehyung’s breath picks up to heavy panting, the ones that get more audible with each thrust into Jeongguk’s fist, and it’s starting to get loud enough for the driver to hear. But he’s not really thinking beyond the surge of heat shaking through his body, the pounding of his heart loud in his own ears. It’s all so risky, so fucking chancy, and yet here he is, falling apart right in the palm of Jeongguk’s hand.

Jeongguk flattens his palm over Taehyung’s lower belly to hold his hips down and pretends he doesn’t notice the desperate look Taehyung shoots him when he struggles to regain friction.

“I know it feels good, baby, but you gotta keep it down,” Jeongguk warns. Instead, he smooths his hand past the underside of Taehyung’s cock, briefly pauses to massage his balls before he’s wedging fingers under the swell of Taehyung’s ass to circle the dripping ring of his hole, marvels at the sensitive fluttering from the touch. There’s so much precome everywhere, sliding from the shaft down to his hole, and it’s so filthy, the way he easily swallows the finger Jeongguk tentatively slides in until Taehyung’s clenching around his knuckle.

“Oh, God, Jeongguk—” Taehyung starts to say, but Jeongguk curls that finger inside of him, brushes along his slick inner walls. Taehyung chokes back a desperate whine, body so sensitive that Jeongguk can tell he’s trying not to come, not yet.

Because for someone that feigns a lot of bullshit, Taehyung couldn’t care less about limited time when Jeongguk was fucking him.

And Jeongguk swears Taehyung almost breaks from how hard he’s shaking, how hard he’s trying to suppress the whimper that threatens to slip through the tight line of his lips. Taehyung rolls down onto the finger in a heady need to chase the heat that flares under his skin, and Jeongguk uses this chance to slip a second digit in, waits for Taehyung to adjust until he’s diligently rocking against those rough fingers, the ones rubbing all along his hot insides and ramming in deep. It just makes him wetter, stickier, and the vulgar sounds that mix with his breathy whimpers makes Jeongguk so hard it’s painful.

“Be good for me and ride my fingers. Yeah, like that,” Jeongguk encourages into his ear, nearly bites his tongue when Taehyung pumps his cock in time with each blunt thrust. Taehyung finds purchase against Jeongguk's forearm and takes more, careful not to make his movements obvious in the partially illuminated van, stays clear of the rearview mirror. Jeongguk drops a kiss onto his shoulder. “Ride them till you come, baby.”

Tossing his head back, Taehyung scrabbles to grip the roof handle, steadying his upper body to take some weight off his rutting hips. Jeongguk holds his arm under Taehyung’s knee, spreads him a little more, and the new angle sends a hard shiver down his spine that feels so good Taehyung’s teeth threaten to break the delicate skin of his bottom lip, struggles to muffle his noises. He can barely concentrate on Jeongguk’s cock in his fist, vision fuzzy when two fingers becomes three, but he rides them generously with relief that the height of the chairs conceals his light bouncing.

“God, you're so tight around my fingers,” Jeongguk grunts. Taehyung’s hand slips off the car handle and falls back to grasp Jeongguk’s forearm, meets each grind with a forward thrust, fingers pressing against his prostate so, so nice. “Wish it was my cock instead, fucking into you. You always take it so well, baby. Make me feel so good every time I fuck you till you cry— ”

“Shit. Jeongguk, I’m so close—” he whimpers, quietly back in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck that he isn’t even sure it’d been heard. Taehyung’s thighs quake, and he feels the coil of heat building in his stomach and bursting beneath his skin like sparks each time Jeongguk’s fingertips brush into his prostate. He shuts his eyes, swallows the heavy lump in his throat from restricting all his moans and knows it’ll be sore after this, from all that tensing. That the managers and members will wonder why his voice is so raw when he sounded perfectly fine at the radio recording. And only Jeongguk will know how he’d struggled so hard to stay quiet while being fingered to tears in the backseat of their van, so much so that his throat gave out.

“Wish you were bouncing in my lap right now. Sliding down my cock and tightening around me when you’re about to come. Like you’re doing right now, baby, right around my fingers,” Jeongguk continues, and it’s too much, too fucking sexy. All this dirty talk that’s getting Taehyung so riled up and wrecking him beyond any semblance of coherency. He presses his nose into Jeongguk’s neck, sweat mixing together from the clammy heat between them.

“Imagine me coming in your ass, baby. Picture it for me. Picture it dripping down your thighs—” Jeongguk removes the arm hooked under Taehyung’s knee to drop the leg back onto his lap, reaching out to wind his fingers around Taehyung’s drooling cock, and shoves his thumb into the sensitive slit. It makes Taehyung jolt with a choked gasp.

“Oh, G—God, fuck, I’m—” Taehyung nods his warning against Jeongguk’s shoulder before his entire body locks up. His mind blacks out for a split second before he’s coming hard into Jeongguk’s fist, shooting hot, white fluid against his stomach as Jeongguk milks him through it.

Letting Taehyung regain his breath, Jeongguk shifts, slowly pulling his fingers out and wraps a hand over the loose fist grasping his own aching cock. The tiny gesture seems to snap Taehyung out of his post-orgasm daze and remind him just how hard Jeongguk had been this entire time. Without hesitation, Taehyung shifts in his seat, half laying down, to get closer to Jeongguk’s throbbing cock until his mouth is breathing hot air a mere teasing centimeters away from the reddened tip. Jeongguk knows he won’t last long, already on edge from Taehyung’s half-assed jerking in the midst of getting off, but it works out this way because the scenery outside is starting to look familiar. He’s only partially concerned about repeating another blue balls incident.

Taehyung takes the first few licks at the tip, tonguing through the slit and tasting the lingering bead of precome before wrapping his fist around the base and goes down, swallowing as much as he can. He gags quietly when he takes too much, throat constricting tightly around the length, and Jeongguk’s hips buck into the wet heat. Taehyung shoots him a look and holds him down with a splayed palm over his abs, smooths his tongue up the underside and swirls around the head. His other hand dips low to fondle his balls, and Jeongguk threads fingers through the back of Taehyung’s hair, a small gesture that lets Taehyung know he’s doing so good, so well. He watches him kiss the tip and glance back up to gauge Jeongguk’s reaction, those pretty, swollen lips a fiery red and stained with precome.

Taehyung looks so good like this, cheeks flushed and so ready to satisfy that Jeongguk’s forgotten entirely about the rush of time, wants to praise Taehyung and say, take it easy baby, say, take it slow. Never once does Taehyung take his eyes off Jeongguk in this low lighting, the passing street lights of Seoul dancing neon across his face. Taehyung loosens his throat, hollowing out his cheeks and swallows down deeper. Hums his satisfaction of having Jeongguk heavy on his taste buds, and the vibrations are enough to push Jeongguk’s mind into overdrive.

Then that familiar heat is in the pit of his stomach like wildfire, and Jeongguk nods frantically when Taehyung senses his impending orgasm, bobs faster on Jeongguk’s cock and twists his wrist at the base until Jeongguk tosses his head back and comes right down his throat with a strangled sigh. Taehyung pulls off too soon, and a string of come catches across his brow, eye flinching shut by surprise.

“Sorry,” Jeongguk rasps, swiping his thumb along the excess. But Taehyung opens his mouth, and it takes a few sluggish seconds for Jeongguk’s mind to catch up before he groans at the sight and dips his thumb past Taehyung’s plump lips, feels the velvet soft tongue lather against his skin.

“Good?” Taehyung tilts his head up and smiles when Jeongguk leans down to kiss him.

“Good,” Jeongguk nods, admiring the rough texture in Taehyung’s voice, raw and thoroughly fucked out. The way it gets when he gives Jeongguk head. Jeongguk lifts his hips to adjust his jeans and watches Taehyung reach out to help with his buckle. He says, “Hey, don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“I like to keep the taste of you on my tongue, though. During schedules,” Taehyung frowns, absurdly conversational and sits back to situate his own pants. He laughs softly and shrugs. “There’s just something about sitting in a room full of people who have no idea you just came in my mouth.” Shrug. “It’s pretty hot.”

“It’s pretty fucking gross, that’s what it is,” Jeongguk scrunches up his nose and collapses against the headrest. Yet even in the dark with only the hint of moonshine tickling his high cheekbones, Taehyung knows he’s blushing, knows his ears are flushed red with embarrassment.

“But it turns you on,” Taehyung says, resting his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “You love it when I swallow.”

“And you love to swallow.” Jeongguk brings their hands together and ignores the way his palm tingles.

“Maybe I do? But hey, you’re the one who got hard as a rock the other day at the salon when I told you I could still taste your come in my mouth,” Taehyung snorts. “You’re nasty just like me, my man. A closeted pervert.”

Jeongguk chokes a little. “At least I’m eloquent.”

“What, dirty talking while fingering my ass in the back of a van?” Taehyung elaborates with unnecessary detail. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re as eloquent as vanilla porn—at the end of the day, it’s still porn.”

“Fine—I’m a nasty piece of shit,” Jeongguk admits bitterly. “Full-time Sexbuster. If I played golf, my name would be Tiger’s Wood.”

“Jeon and Kate Fuck Eight?” Taehyung chirps. “And you can’t forget your Disney alias, Pocahotass .”

“Yeah, and if you keep pushing it, I’m gonna—”

Oh.

Jeongguk cuts himself off and stares down at Taehyung’s head with his mouth hanging open, fully aware of the words that almost left his mouth just now.

If you keep pushing it, I’m gonna spank you.

“Gonna what?” Taehyung teases toothily. When Jeongguk doesn’t answer, he lifts his head to look at him, confused. “Jeongguk?”

“It’s nothing,” Jeongguk strains quickly, waving it off. Now’s not the time.

“Obviously it’s something,” Taehyung insists. “What is it?”

“It’s—later,” Jeongguk shakes his head, glancing out the window as the vans slows down and steers into the studio parking lot. “I’ll tell you later.”

Taehyung, unconvinced, stares for a few hard seconds before shrugging. “Whatever you say, Forrest Hump.”

Jeongguk spends the rest of that night staring unforgivably at Taehyung’s ass.

Wonders how good it’d sound under the force of his palm.

▲

Jeongguk’s mouth is stale but not entirely unpleasant.

His tongue is currently the sundubu jjigae they’d inhaled that morning, gochujang thick on his satiated taste buds and lingering persistently in his saliva. Normally it’d be a big enough distraction to occupy most of the junk in his mind. Most, as in plenty, as in all. But with Taehyung heavy on his chest like a cozy blanket to combat this chilly, artificial air, something so distinctly professional, he can’t find it in his melting resolve to shove Taehyung off so he can run to the public restrooms of this company building. Brush his teeth to minty consistency. Some hygienic insecurity that tells him his breath smells like shit at the oddest hours of the day.

Dying by the hands of Yoongi may be a terrifying thought, sure, but he’d take that over bad breath any day.

But Taehyung always does this, seems to put him on some colossal digression that makes even the strongest conviction trivial, clings to him like it isn’t enough. And that’s okay, he thinks, because Jeongguk would be lying if he said he didn’t love it, the way Taehyung fits himself snug against the side of his body and molds like putty into every curve, partly to make the cramped couch in this empty waiting room bearable, but mostly to seek more warmth from Jeongguk’s furnace of a torso. It’s a noticeable contrast compared to Taehyung, whose skin was always just a few degrees colder, but Jeongguk does not mind this, especially on cruel summer nights where the humid air becomes insufferable.

Their bodies are in equilibrium in more ways than one, and it’s a little perfect.

They’ve still got a few hours until the live stage, a little less until they have to sit through hair and makeup. A little more time for isolated freedom. Taehyung had used this chance to insist on occupying the time napping in the next room over, the empty one with the emptier couch where he could smother Jeongguk’s body under his and fall half asleep. The usual banter about not getting Jeongguk Fix these days because of promotions and the mass production of rookie groups that limited the number of empty rooms for them to snuggle in. Taehyung has, apparently, thought this through.

“This industry is a fucking assembly line, Jeonggukie,” Taehyung had groaned one night, sprawled out on the floor of their dorm in nothing but a towel around his waist. Feeling a lot soggy, especially where the side of his arm was pressed up against Jeongguk’s torso. “There’s fifty other me’s out there, and some of them can rap. That’s so unfair. Like, who the fuck am I?”

“You gotta quit all this deep shit about being lost, hyung,” Jeongguk had said, fingers playing up and down Taehyung’s arm. Even as hot as it was, goosebumps had still risen on the freshly showered skin. “And anyway, there could be a thousand replicas of you, and I’d still be able to pick you out.”

“What—you reading those shoujo mangas again?”

“You know what, fuck what I said. Just fuck it.”

And now, in well conditioned air and a stale mouth, Jeongguk is nothing but transfixed with the way Taehyung shifts his hips to stack them on top of Jeongguk’s more comfortably, smushing the side of his face against the sharply slanted clavicle. In this position, where Jeongguk has lost the ability to discern whose skin is whose, his arm curls around Taehyung’s slender waist at an angle that allows him to rest a hand right over that lovely ass. And it reminds him:

It’s been days, and Jeongguk’s palms have not stopped tingling.

This, he blames on gravity, the gullible nature of his own blood to pool at his fingertips when his arms dangle loosely at his sides. And yet, there is no gravity that explains the sparks that prick his hands when Taehyung is near, his ass nearer, because this may be something akin to the attraction between magnets or the shock from static electricity. Something like excitement, thrill, and curiosity, all balled up and condensed into the calloused skin of his palms. Here, with Taehyung’s ass right under his yearning palm, perfect and swollen in the grasp of his hand, Jeongguk can’t resist.

Maybe just a little touch.

As to not disturb Taehyung in his sleep, Jeongguk carefully splays his fingers and caresses over the cheek, back and forth, just barely grazing over the fabric of his sweats and shivers with each electrifying current that spirals up his arm. He’s enjoying this too damn much for someone simply rubbing his boyfriend’s ass, but Taehyung doesn't seem to notice it, breath a steady waft across his sternum. Jeongguk takes it one step further and kneads the plush swell of Taehyung’s ass, testing at first, then lightly jostles the underside to marvel at the way it jiggles in his palm. And fuck, that's nice.

Taehyung may not have Jimin’s bubble butt, but his is petite and perky in a way that Jeongguk appreciates, has him daydreaming during the quieter hours about Taehyung sitting on his face.

“Mmph,” Taehyung suddenly grunts, a low rumble that resonates against Jeongguk’s chest, shattering the imagery of Taehyung straddling his head. “You groping my ass?”

“Sorry,” Jeongguk rasps and rests his palm flat on Taehyung’s tailbone. “Did I wake you?”

“Wasn’t really sleeping,” Taehyung slurs around a yawn, stuffing his face in the curve of Jeongguk’s neck. “It’s okay, though, I like it. Grope on.”

Jeongguk’s swallow is thick, a bit strangled. Now he feels like a top-notch creep. “Um.”

“Seriously?” Taehyung snorts, shifts to look up at him with his chin on Jeongguk’s chest. “You can’t just grope my ass then pretend you didn’t. It’s good, you’re good.”

“I’m not pretending,” Jeongguk grumbles because that sounds worse. “I was just. Touching you.”

Suddenly he has no idea what to do with his hand, a peculiar, unsettled thing skirting between boundaries, so he subtly curls his fingers. His hand is not on Taehyung’s ass anymore, no, but it’s still close enough to make the placement obvious. Move it, and his thirst will show. Keep it, and Taehyung might think he’s needy. He settles with shifting his entire body to distract his palm from creeping up into the curve of Taehyung’s lower back, joggling Taehyung’s head along the way with leather squeaking restlessly beneath him. It doesn’t make this small couch any more comfortable than before, but at least he feels a little less perverted because God knows he has no idea how to bring it up, the spanking, not without wanting to flee the country.

But then something shifts in Taehyung’s eyes, darkness that seems to cloud what used to be a playful, lighthearted jab of an expression. There’s something more now, like an incandescent light bulb had just gone off in that pretty little head, and Jeongguk thinks he knows what it is. An unspoken challenge that’s meant to simmer. As if Taehyung knows exactly what Jeongguk is struggling with, and he probably does.

“So yes, you were fondling my ass,” Taehyung says casually. He props his head up with an elbow, chin resting in his palm.

“I was just curious,” Jeongguk supplies lamely.

“Curious?”

“Yeah.”

“About what?”

“If it’s as flat as it looks,” Jeongguk quirks a brow. “Which, by the way, concave.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Oh, please. That’s not what you say when you’re fucking it—”

“Stop—talking,” Jeongguk blurts, a furious blush dusting high in his cheeks that he tries to hide, always so easily embarrassed when it came to discussing their sex life in these non-sexual contexts yet possessed a filthy mouth with a knack for dirty talk.

In his defense, he does it for Taehyung, knows how worked up it gets him because Taehyung was more audibly stimulated than he was visually, liked to hear Jeongguk’s grunts right against his ear and the slap of sticky skin when Jeongguk fucked him from behind. And Jeongguk likes to use this tiny little fact to his full advantage, whisper vulgar things into Taehyung’s ears because he knows how wet Taehyung gets from a few short words.

“Maybe I just wanted to squeeze some ass,” Jeongguk huffs air through his nose. “It’s mine, anyway.”

“Oh? And is that it?” Taehyung teases. He tilts his head, hunger lingering beneath all that fabricated innocence that Jeongguk sees right through. The fucker. “Just a squeeze, nothing else?”

“For now, no,” Jeongguk finally hints defeatedly, and that seems to be answer enough, understanding in their own secret language. A coy smiles spreads across Taehyung’s face, and he hides it against Jeongguk’s shoulder, giving the exposed skin a tiny nibble.

“Okay then,” Taehyung hums pleasantly, bites his bottom lip, and it’s so provocative, the way he deliberately releases the plump flesh, so slow it springs free from his teeth, shines with saliva. Jeongguk can’t help the shudder that runs down his spine because that looks amazing .

But even as Taehyung exhales one of those beautiful, breathy laughs that tickles his nose, sits up to straddle one of Jeongguk’s thick thighs to ride, hips rutting against the hard muscle, we’ve got an hour and a locked door, baby, guess what I’m thinking, Jeongguk’s palm doesn’t stop tingling.

In this private undercurrent, Jeongguk realizes his heavy infatuation with the very idea of spanking Taehyung.

“Touch me again,” Taehyung drawls lazily, and Jeongguk does.

This, he thinks, is all just a matter of time and placement.

▲

In the midst of comeback season and Taehyung’s drama filming, the memory of what happened at the radio show gets shrouded with stress and a bad case of sleep deprivation that very thoroughly, fucks Jeongguk up.

Sexual exploration had become a lesser priority as the schedules piled up, and Jeongguk is forced to put his newfound curiosity on the backburner, settling for their usual methods of getting each other off—a blowjob against the door of the supply closet, a quick ride in empty conference rooms. But with a week of lighter work and more time for individual practice, Jeongguk regains his breath and remembers what it’s like to actually wonder about what to do next, remember what it’s like to be human again with functioning sleep hours. Bathes in the luxury of rubbing his eyes without worries of pulling his hand away with smeared eyeliner smudged on the skin.

And it’s still so early in the night, yet Jeongguk allows himself to head back to the dorm earlier than the others, sweat clinging to his neckline after a few hours worth of dancing with Hoseok and Jimin at the studio. A pat on the back for surviving yet another grueling period of promotions.

“I’m gonna head back and work on some song covers,” Jeongguk had said, toweling his face dry and dragging the textured fabric through his damp bangs. “I think I’ll actually die if I sweat anymore.”

“In that stuffed-up closet of yours?” Jimin had snorted, hopping down from the hoverboard. “Man, how do you even get shit done in there?”

“It’s comfortable,” Jeongguk shrugs, tossing the towel over his shoulder and bending down to yank his charger from the wall. “Makes me feel like a starving artist in New York—I dig that, I guess. We all do.”

“True,” Jimin huffs, collapsing to the floor with salty moisture rolling off his chin. “Funny how we work our asses off to get to the top only to admire the lifestyle of the struggling mundane.”

“Fuck. That sounds a lot more pathetic out loud,” Jeongguk laughs, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and striding to the mirrors to check his complexion. His skin looks like shit from the overload of work from the past few weeks, and he frowns deeply at the blotchy blemish below his cheekbone. “Can't even make up our goddamn minds.”

“Hey, working hard to make that dough looks cooler than easy cash flow, not gonna lie,” Hoseok snorts, pushing fingers into his hair to brush the strands back. “Nothing wrong with hustlin’ even after that glow up.”

“Maeiri hustle life,” Jeongguk belts in his singing voice. “Anyway, I’ll see you guys at home. Try to get home by sunrise. You guys are old and fragile.”

“And if I didn’t feel like literal ass, I’d knock your fat nose off your face,” Jimin frowns but waves him off. “Yo, get home safe. Don’t be a dumbass and wander off.”

“Watch out for crazy fans, too. Lots of saesangs lately handing out pubes for gifts,” Hoseok visibly grimaces. “Bad juju, I tell you.”

“Yeah, avoid that, too,” Jimin shudders. “Text us when you get there.”

And Jeongguk had clicked his tongue, yelling, got it!, over his shoulder before letting the door fall shut behind him.

Now back in the comfy confines of their dorm, Jeongguk collapses back on Namjoon’s bed and snatches his phone off the pillow to shoot a quick text to Jimin before checking the unread messages from Taehyung. Most likely still shooting with the film crew for Hwarang at this hour. His hard little worker.

Taehyung

Miss you

Jeongguk smiles and types his reply, pinning an arm behind his head and sinking into the mattress with jelly limbs. It's been awhile since he last saw Taehyung, and withdrawal symptoms will kick in soon when he least expects it. A bad fever in his hands already itching to touch, a sweltering cold at his side on nights where Taehyung doesn’t occupy. Lips a thirst that cannot be replenished with water.

Taehyung has always been his remedy for the longer days.

Jeongguk

Miss you too<3

In the time that Jeongguk tilts his head back to bellow a yawn, Taehyung has already replied, notification pinging from where he had just set the phone down on his chest. Quick, as if Taehyung had been waiting for his reply all this time—he probably has been, because it's only natural that when Jeongguk felt withdrawals, Taehyung did too, sometimes even worse than Jeongguk who actually enjoyed spending time on his own. Wallowing in his own company when Taehyung wasn’t around like the permanent recluse he is.

Taehyung

What are you doing?

Jeongguk

Laying down for a bit

Just got home from the studio

You working hard?

Taehyung

Yup! Tired thoughhh

And I miss your ugly face

Jeongguk laughs quietly to himself, heart leaping to his chest and spreading light throughout his body. He shifts onto his side and presses his cheek into the soft pillow, heat tickling his skin and burning bright across his face. And it’s so damn gross, how even after years of dating, Taehyung still has him blushing from texts alone, has his entire body fluttering with these pleasant jitters. He braves his reply and absently glances at the doorway.

Jeongguk

Is that all that you miss?

Taehyung

...

I'm sitting next to my coworker lol

This is no surprise—Taehyung would’ve called by now if he were on break. But really, his coworkers could mind their own business. No doubt they all had filthy texts on their phones, too.

Jeongguk

And?

Tell me what you miss

Bc I haven't stopped thinking about you all day //:

Taehyung

Me neither //:

Can't stop thinking about what we’d do if you were here

Lots of empty makeup rooms lmao

Jeongguk snorts, eyes already starting to get heavy with sleep neglect and feeling a lot like sandbags. Schedules had started early that morning, and the effects are only now kicking in, kicking in hard, and it’s a little more difficult to fight when he’s this privileged and cozy. Jeongguk yawns again and feels moisture brimming the corners of his eyes.

Jeongguk

Oh? What would we do?

Taehyung

Don't make me text it..

It’s embarrassing D;

Jeongguk

Please?

The typing bubble pops up in the corner of the screen. Disappears. Reappears. Repeats for a few more cycles.

Taehyung

You'd… fuck me

Against the makeup counter

Jeongguk

Haha you liked that, huh?

When we did that in Japan and almost got caught

I rimmed you on the counter, remember?

Taehyung

Jeongguk…

Jeongguk tries to calm the arousal pooling in his stomach, a lazy kind of horny that feels nice and cloudy, one that helpfully eases the desperate edge he usually feels. Taehyung is finally coming home tonight after spending days at the filming site, and he’d rather take out his resulting sexual constipation on Taehyung than with his hand.

Jeongguk

Lol am I making you wet?

Taehyung

…

Yes :(

I want you so bad

Jeongguk

You’re so cute

But me too, so bad

Hurry home please ;(

Don't touch yourself till then either

Taehyung

Fine /:

See you soon?

Jeongguk

I'll be waiting

Jeongguk fires off the text and slips into a slow sleep, phone clutched in hand, Taehyung on his mind.

“Jeongguk, wake up.”

There’s a tug at his bottom lip. Jeongguk blinks open his elastic eyes and only then does he realize the weight resting on his chest.

“Babe.”

“Hm.”

“Jeongguk.”

Taehyung mouths along the line of his jaw and laughs, sending a puff of warm air across skin that tickles his neck and stirs him from his dreamy daze. Straddling Jeongguk’s torso like this, Taehyung presses kisses to each of his collarbones and trails up to nibble Jeongguk’s plump bottom lip back between his teeth, a nice sensation that does little to drag Jeongguk out of his sleepy sludge and only sinks him further.

“I’m home,” Taehyung announces against him, presses a tender kiss to Jeongguk’s cupid’s bow.

“Mm. Welcome home,” Jeongguk mumbles, reaches out to hold onto Taehyung’s thighs. He leans up to kiss his chin. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Taehyung says, brushing fingers through the front of Jeongguk’s hair in that affectionate way he gets when they’ve been apart for too long. “Sleepy?”

“No,” Jeongguk denies and breathes out slowly through his nose. “What time is it?”

“Eleven something,” Taehyung braces an arm on either side of Jeongguk’s head, long bangs tickling the tip of his nose. Just watches the soft lines of his face shift as he wakes up, eyelids a gradual process under the all-too-bright ceiling lights. “I got home early today.”

“You did,” Jeongguk says, almost congratulatory, and smooths his hands up the expanse of Taehyung’s clothed thighs to latch on to slender hips. “Where are the others?”

“Not home,” Taehyung emphasizes with waggling brows, and that dark, playful look is back in his eyes, hazier this time and threatening to devour.

But with their faces this close, Jeongguk can feel the way he still has the upperhand, the way Taehyung’s breath stutters when Jeongguk creeps his hands up the thin material of his frayed sweater, fingers dancing over the ridges of his ribcage and smoothing back down. Slowly, but with a heated pressure that yearns to become more, to explore boundaries where watchful eyes do not persist. Taehyung may look ready to prey, but Jeongguk knows his body well enough to understand that it’s these exact urges that renders him weak and desperate to be touched.

Taehyung straightens up and bites back a sly smile, strips the sweater off like he’s putting on a show, and teasingly rolls his hips against Jeongguk’s torso.

He says, “Let’s have some fun.”

But half an hour later finds Taehyung’s lips swollen red and Jeongguk’s hair a mussed, frazzled mess from where Taehyung had gripped, perched snugly in Jeongguk’s lap now and a lot more turned on. Jeongguk likes it like this, that deliberate, relaxed pace where time is not a limiting factor or the constant worry of someone walking in on them. In this mellow setting, he can sit pressed against the headboard and drink back all of Taehyung’s breathy sounds without restraint.

Because Taehyung is his, and Jeongguk is allowed to be greedy.

“Shit, hang on,” Taehyung suddenly says, kisses Jeongguk again because he can. Jeongguk chases his lips when he pulls back and frowns when Taehyung does not grant him permission so easily. “I gotta text the Hwarang staff our schedule so they can book my filmings for the week.”

“Right now?” Jeongguk grumbles, settles for kissing the expanse of Taehyung’s smooth neck instead. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“Exactly. I told them I’d send it when I got home,” Taehyung scoffs, shoving gently at Jeongguk’s shoulders. “Just give me a minute, then I’m all yours.”

Taehyung, still straddling Jeongguk, stretches his upper body towards the nightstand at the side and picks up his phone to unlock the shattered screen, flat palm just barely holding himself up. He stays like this, on all fours, and swiftly maneuvers through his camera roll, finds the picture of the group’s monthly schedule, and attaches it to a message. Doesn’t even realize how suggestive he looks, ass high up in the air, catlike, and hovering over Jeongguk shirtless.

This, Jeongguk thinks, is the perfect position for a spanking.

The right time, the right placement, Jeongguk swallows hard and massages a firm hand up the length of Taehyung’s thigh, stops to knead the flesh of his ass out of self-indulgence. He can feel the way Taehyung keens at the touch, can see, out of the corner of his eye, Taehyung’s fingers stuttering over the keyboard in a poor attempt to text a half-assed message, what with Jeongguk groping him like this and distracting him from the task at hand. He’s barely three words in, and Jeongguk already has him wrapped around his finger. Not literally, but not yet, either.

“Jeongguk, I have to—text them—”

“Go ahead.”

Jeongguk tentatively slips his palm past the waistband of Taehyung’s baggy slacks to caress the smooth skin of his asscheek, has Taehyung sucking in a quiet breath to relish in the calloused roughness, phone screen unfocused in his line of vision with his mind spinning. But Jeongguk likes to tease, likes to see Taehyung squirm when he’s being this infuriatingly slow, especially when granted the privacy and time, so Jeongguk slips his hand back out to rub over the fabric, cocking his head up to gauge Taehyung’s constrained reactions. His entire body heats up at the pretty sight of Taehyung visibly unraveling, piece by piece, by the indulgent feeling of his palm alone. How much he can wreck Taehyung with just a little—

Smack.

The spank, in essence, is hard through the material of his pants, enough to ring through the quiet room and barely sting at Jeongguk’s palm. Taehyung, at the force of it, jolts forward and grinds out the filthiest whimper Jeongguk has ever heard, something so obscene and vulnerable that his hardening cock twitches restlessly inside his sweats. His mouth goes dry, suddenly a significant lack of moisture in his tacky throat.

“Hyung, fuck,” Jeongguk mutters aloud, watches Taehyung’s entire face redden in embarrassment as he clasps a hand over his mouth and glances at Jeongguk, surprised at himself. The text message entirely forgotten.

But after waiting this long, the sexual tension finally snaps, and God, Jeongguk wants to do it again.

With shaky hands, Taehyung drops his phone onto the nightstand with a clatter. “Shit, that was—I didn’t—”

Smack.

“Nng.”

“You really like that, don’t you?” Jeongguk coos, soothing his palm over the cheek and kisses Taehyung’s temple. He whispers, “Take off your pants.”

Taehyung pushes himself upright on shaky arms and fumbles with the button of his slacks, slides them past his hips with the help of Jeongguk’s hot palms and kicks them off the bed in a careless pile. But when he reaches for his underwear, Jeongguk stops him, hands firmly wrapping around his wrist.

“Not yet, baby,” Jeongguk says, clicking his tongue. Looking so damn smug. “You have to earn that.”

Irritation barely flits across Taehyung’s face. “What do you—”

Smack.

Taehyung’s hips buck forward into nothing. “F—fuck.”

“Shh,” Jeongguk hushes, drawing him close and lightly brushing his lips against Taehyung’s, just barely touching. He drops a kiss to the side of Taehyung’s neck before pulling away completely, tugging a soft whine from those swollen lips. A grin passes through his face, maybe a little cruel, maybe a little fun. He says, “You know, I just remembered something.”

“What,” Taehyung sighs, a trembling quiver that blends into the air. He leans forward to wrap his arms around Jeongguk’s neck, the need to get closer, to share more skin, to get hotter. Sliding his front against Jeongguk’s muscular torso, he flinches when their nipples brush, already so sensitive, and Jeongguk can feel the wetness already beginning to stain the front of Taehyung’s underwear.

“Do you remember what happened the other week, baby? When we were recording kkul fm for our fans?” Jeongguk explains, smoothing his palms along the beautiful swell of Taehyung’s ass, across the cheek he’d just spanked. Runs them down his thighs and back up to squeeze. “Letting Seokjin hyung spank you, how you got so wet from watching me watch you get spanked? How much you enjoyed it? Do you remember how bad you were being?”

“Jeongguk—”

Jeongguk pushes the fabric of his underwear up past his cheeks to expose the skin without taking them off, bunching the thin material in the center and gripping firmly at the globes to spread him apart. He drags Taehyung’s hips down and rocks his own straining bulge up against the cleft of Taehyung’s ass, right in-between. Taehyung lurches forward at this, from how needy he’s getting, the feeling of Jeongguk’s hard cock fitting so lovely between his asscheeks and hot against his sensitive hole.

“I saw the way you arched at the touch, baby, how you wanted to be spanked harder. How you wanted it to be me,” Jeongguk emphasizes this by roughly bucking up against him again, knocking a choked moan from Taehyung’s throat. “You’ve been bad, baby. But I think you know that, don’t you?”

“I,” Taehyung starts, but Jeongguk’s hands, curled solidly around his hips and rocking him so slow, is a real good distraction, and his brain short circuits each time his clothed erection just barely brushes against Jeongguk’s hard lower belly. “Um—”

“Answer me,” Jeongguk coos into his ear and spanks him again, this time much lighter, much gentler. Just a small gesture to get him to focus. To pay attention.

“Yes.”

Jeongguk peers up at Taehyung in his lap. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I—I know,” he breathes. “I know I’ve been bad. Really bad.”

“You shouldn’t tease me, baby. Because I might not let you come,” Jeongguk warns, drops a light kiss onto his delicate clavicle, another against his bobbing Adam’s apple. It’s such a stark contrast to the rough words falling from his mouth, and the dichotomy is the perfect balance to make Taehyung lightheaded, a wave of dizziness spiraling in his fuzzy mind. “But if you’re good for me and count your spankings out loud so I can hear, I’ll let you come. Okay?”

“Ah, okay, I’ll be good for you, just—”

“Thirty spankings, kitten.”

“Thirty.”

“What’s the word for tonight?” Jeongguk makes sure to ask.

“Um,” Taehyung blurts. “Radio.”

“Radio?” Jeongguk says, amusement skirting his tone but nods nonetheless. “Okay.”

“Shut up,” Taehyung growls, but Jeongguk ruts up against him and rips a moan from his throat.

“Are you ready?”

“I, yes, I’m ready. Just, anything— ” Then, before Taehyung even expects it, that palm comes right down and bluntly connects with his ass.

Smack.

“Nng,” Taehyung keens forward, hips rutting against Jeongguk’s muscled stomach from the impact. “Oh, f—fuck. One.”

“Louder. Like I’m fucking you,” Jeongguk grunts, caressing his palm over the reddened flesh and soothing calming circles into the soft skin. “I know how loud you can get, baby. The way you scream like you want the neighbors to hear how good I make you feel.” He hums into the space below Taehyung’s jaw and spanks the other cheek, alternates from one side to the other and marvels at the way Taehyung jolts with choked whimpers at each slap through the grit of his teeth.

“Two, three, four, hng—five, six, seven…”

“Hyung, you’re doing so well,” Jeongguk praises, knows how weak Taehyung gets when he calls him hyung in situations as such, when Jeongguk has him in his most vulnerable state. “Taking your punishment like a good kitten—”

“Shit, baby—” Smack. “Eight, nine, ten, e—eleven…”

The first twenty spankings are enough to get him, them worked up beyond logic, and Taehyung’s voice gets rougher with each moaned number that he counts out loud, his vocals taking on a subtle kind of rasp that Jeongguk knows must feel sore and yet already so soon. This riled up, and they haven’t even started fucking.

Through the material of his shirt and Taehyung’s underwear, the spanking gets Taehyung wet enough that the front of Jeongguk’s shirt gets damp from where those hips buck forward each time he spanks him. A patch that resembles the front of Taehyung’s soaked boxers that reassures Jeongguk how much Taehyung is enjoying this, the way everything gets wetter when Jeongguk spanks harder.

“Oh, God,” Taehyung cries into his hair, arms tightening around broad shoulders to find balance. His thighs quake on either side of Jeongguk’s hips, trembling from the sting that numbs over his ass, a burn that makes his entire body painfully sensitive to even the tiniest contact. “Ah, Jeongguk—just, please.”

But Jeongguk shakes his head and nips at Taehyung’s tense jaw line. “Keep counting, baby. You’re not done yet.”

And it’s so filthy, how he can feel the hot moisture in his lap through Taehyung’s soaked briefs like a constant warmth, straddling him like this and seated right over Jeongguk’s throbbing bulge. By the way Taehyung’s entire body wildly trembles with each jolt forward, muscles twitching under Jeongguk’s hands, he knows Taehyung can come from the spanking alone, find enough friction for release against Jeongguk’s hard abs to drive him right over the edge.

“Twenty-two, twenty-three—baby, fuck— ” Taehyung shudders and Jeongguk stops abruptly, holds Taehyung’s hips still and restrains him from rocking down.

“Don’t come until I let you,” Jeongguk warns headily into Taehyung’s neck. “Your punishment’s not over yet. Be good for me, baby. Make me proud.”

And fuck, if that’s not Taehyung’s weakness. Making Jeongguk so, so proud of him.

Smack.

Taehyung’s voice cracks when he whimpers, so desperate for release that it’s a struggle to hold himself up, muscles giving out from how good Jeongguk spanks him, how good he feels under those rough palms. The first telltale signs of tears collect at the corners of his eyes as he curls himself over Jeongguk’s form and holds on tight, fingers threading tightly through those soft, brown strands of hair.

Basking in all this delicious intimacy that prickles beneath his skin, Taehyung can’t help but to appreciate the way Jeongguk never forgets to handle him with care. The spanking isn’t hard enough to be uncomfortable, just enough to ring nicely in his ears and sting upon contact, because Jeongguk would never dare to inflict any pain on his body that he didn’t want. Always so mindful, like Taehyung was made from thin glass, following up each slap with a soothing, tender caress that he anticipates.

“Almost there, baby,” Jeongguk nibbles along his collarbones, makes sure to not leave behind any marks that the public will see. “Keep going.”

“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight…”

“That’s it, keep going,” Jeongguk pauses to squeeze both cheeks, spreads them a little before continuing. “You’re doing so well.”

“Ung—twenty-nine…”

Smack.

“Thirty.”

Taehyung sits still for a few moments, thighs trembling and cock twitching against Jeongguk’s lower belly. Fending off his orgasm with his body tight around Jeongguk, he buries his nose in the soft strands, lungs heaving shallow exhales that puff out in stutters. Jeongguk knows he’s trying hard, so hard not to come right then and there. Because Jeongguk didn’t say he could. Because that would be bad, and he wants nothing more than to be good for Jeongguk.

Because if he’s good, Jeongguk will fuck him better.

Taehyung whimpers when Jeongguk shifts beneath him, palms soothing over the bright red skin of his ass. With his underwear wedged in between his cheeks and pushed out of the way, Taehyung squirms uncomfortably, so desperate to get his strained cock free.

“Was I good?” Taehyung pouts softly, fingers bunching the fabric at Jeongguk’s shoulder blades, scrabbling to remove the incriminating article of clothing.

“So good,” Jeongguk praises, stroking lightly up and down Taehyung’s spine. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Taehyung’s entire heart swells at this, and up against Jeongguk’s ear, he whispers, “Fuck me, please.”

Jeongguk doesn’t need to be asked twice.

Bracing a hand against Taehyung’s smaller back, Jeongguk sits forward and presses him back into the bedsheets—Namjoon’s sheets, oops, he’ll change them later. Kneeling between Taehyung’s open legs like this, Jeongguk licks his lips and pulls his shirt overhead, dipping down to scatter kisses down the length of Taehyung’s soft belly and pressing a kiss to each bent knee. One along the inner thigh, another on the bruise adorning his shin, before sitting back and gripping Taehyung’s hips to flip him over.

Taehyung yelps from the sudden movement and feels Jeongguk’s hand slip under his body to lift his hips off the mattress, ass high up in the air. Shivers at the feeling of Jeongguk manhandling him like this. Jeongguk grabs his waist from behind, shifting him closer and tugs at a thigh to spread him wider. Then, finally, his fingertips slip into the waistband of Taehyung’s underwear and peels the sticky material off, cock springing blissfully free from the soaked fabric and smacking against his stomach, precome dripping on the sheets below.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jeongguk growls behind him, palms coming out to massage the reddened skin of his ass, spreads him apart to admire the blush that burns down to the tops of his thighs. Marvels at the red outline of his hand and fingers on the tan skin. He leans forward to kiss Taehyung’s tailbone, shifts a little lower to kiss each cheek. “So, so pretty.”

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung pouts, writhing against the sheets when Jeongguk spreads his cheeks wider. “Now, please. Just fuck me, I need—”

But the rest of the sentence comes out in a garbled mess because Jeongguk is shoving his face into his ass and flattening his tongue against Taehyung’s hole, hums when it sensitively flutters open and closed at the sudden sensation.

“F—fuck, oh my God,” Taehyung sobs into the mattress, screwing his eyes shut and tightly fisting the sheets between his fingers until his knuckles go white.

Jeongguk traces the rim tentatively at first, alternates between tiny kisses and sucks before slowly dipping the tip of his tongue into the wet ring of muscle. He pulls out and sighs when the hole clenches sensitively around nothing, dives the tip back in, repeat.

“Nng, oh, fuck, fuck— ” Taehyung whimpers, face screwed up in pleasure and mouth hanging open, saliva lingering along his pretty pink lips. He can’t stop squirming, thighs shaking from holding his hips up at the overstimulation yet pushing back against the slippery tongue, needing more. His back arches down lower towards the mattress, ass rolling back against Jeongguk’s hot mouth that breathes all across his quivering hole, already so on edge from the spanking. “Jeongguk, so—ung, feels so good.”

With Jeongguk rimming him like so generously, it’s too much and not enough all at once. There’s so much precome dribbling from his weeping cock, and he’s making such a mess all over himself and the bed that Taehyung burns with both embarrassment and arousal, can barely distinguish the difference between the two when Jeongguk dips low to suck at his balls. Precome glides down his inner thighs at this, and Jeongguk laps up the fluid before licking his way back into the flexing muscle, flattening his tongue wide over the twitching hole to catch his breath and working the pace back up. He sucks in air through his nose and dives deeper in a way that has Taehyung sobbing face-first into the mattress.

But a few more thrusts of his tongue and Jeongguk pulls back completely, leaving Taehyung’s hole gaping and fucked open, hips bucking back to chase more of that delicious, wet pressure. Jeongguk presses a kiss to the raw skin of his asscheek and reaches down near the floor to snatch his backpack, procuring a bottle of lube and a condom. He pops the cap of the lube and dribbles some onto his fingers.

“Ready, baby?” Jeongguk asks, voice rough around the edges, fingertips smearing the precome at his hole back and forth and prodding between his cheeks. Taehyung nods frantically and easily accepts two fingers, already stretched open after Jeongguk had thoroughly rimmed him so nicely. The third one takes a little longer for him to adjust to, only because Taehyung can’t stop wriggling his ass after all the edging till this point, and Jeongguk relents and slowly slips his finger out to snatch the condom.

“No—” Taehyung says quickly, leaning up on his elbows and shifting to look behind him as Jeongguk moves to tear open the foil. “I don’t—no condom tonight. I just want you.”

Jeongguk licks his lips. “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, rosy flush high in his cheeks. “I—want you to come inside of me.”

“Shit, um—okay, yeah,” Jeongguk babbles, grabbing the lube and squirting a good amount into his palm. He lathers himself up and bites roughly on his lower lip at how fucking hard he is, having waited all this time without touching himself and only feeding his arousal with Taehyung’s wrecked sounds and responsive body. He grabs Taehyung’s hips to shift him into a better position, wraps his hand around the base of his swollen cock, and brushes the flushed red tip back and forth against the lubed hole before slowly sliding in. An explosion of heat shoots through his body and simmers in his stomach when Taehyung adjusts enough to his size to take him to the hilt, Jeongguk bottoming out with a shaky sigh. “Nng, Tae, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Ah, hnng—fuck me,” Taehyung sobs into the sheets, back arching low. “Baby, fuck me hard.”

Jeongguk grunts and picks up a steady rhythm, the backs of Taehyung’s thighs smacking loudly against his hips with each thrust into that engulfing heat. The bunk bed rocks each time Jeongguk ruts forward to bury his cock deep in Taehyung’s ass, filling him up and knocking out strangled whimpers from his chest when Jeongguk rams harder with every intention to wreck him. He presses a palm down against the arch in Taehyung’s back, shoving his torso further into the mattress to get his ass higher and fucks into him relentlessly. From this different angle, Taehyung’s mouth falls open in a silent moan that tenses his entire body up, and he shoves his face into the crook of his arm, feeling a hard tremor of pleasure rake up his spine.

“Yeah? Right there, baby?” Jeongguk grunts, feels Taehyung clenching around his length. “Does that feel good?”

“Shit, yes, right there—” Taehyung cries, tightening with each harsh pound into his prostate and covers the hand digging into his hip. He feels Jeongguk thrust faster, harder, deeper, fucks him so well into the mattress that he trembles at the merciless way Jeongguk’s cock stretches him open, nothing but a sweaty, trembling heap on the covers.

“Ung, fuck. Jeongguk— ” Taehyung sobs, eyebrows threading together, tightens even more around Jeongguk’s cock sliding in and out of him. The sound of wet slaps gets louder and fills the room in a filthy cacophony of squelching and moaning, and Taehyung can’t hold out any longer. “ Jeongguk, baby— ”

“Go ahead, baby, come for me,” Jeongguk grits, panting heavily over Taehyung’s nape when he leans down to press a kiss there, sighs into Taehyung’s mouth when he twists around to capture Jeongguk’s lips. Jeongguk reaches around to wrap a hand around Taehyung’s weeping, neglected cock, pumping him in time with each snap of his frantic hips. “You’ve been so good, Tae. Let me feel you tighten around me when you come.”

“Hng, fuck, I’m—I’m gonna come,” Taehyung’s whimpers bubble from his mouth brokenly, and he ruts frantically back against Jeongguk’s cock and feels a wild shudder shake down his spine. Toes curling, fingers fisting the covers so tight his hands tremble. He buries his face in the mattress to muffle his cries and feels his body lock up before he’s shooting hot come all over his belly, some dripping onto the already soiled sheets as Jeongguk milks him through his blinding orgasm, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes from the force of it.

“Nnh, babe,” Jeongguk groans, voice strained as Taehyung tightens impossibly around him, so tight he has to still his hips before continuing, fucking into Taehyung at an erratic, sloppy pace that loses its rhythm. A sense of balance barely maintained as he drapes himself over Taehyung’s body.

He presses his forehead between Taehyung’s shoulder blades and rams faster until his fingertips bruise red and purple into those slim hips, tight heat so fucking amazing around his cock and swallowing his pulsing length so well. Sweat from his forehead smears all along Taehyung’s lithe back, droplets scattering down his arched torso and collecting at the nape, and Jeongguk bites down on the beautiful skin to ground himself. With one final thrust, he snaps his hips deep inside Taehyung and comes so hard his vision blurs, filling him up with all that hot, sticky fluid.

“Shit, Tae,” Jeongguk pants, their bodies collapsed on the mattress. Sweat-slicked skin pressed together and tingling in the humidity shared between them. Jeongguk pushes up onto his arms and slowly pulls out with a comforting palm splayed against his lower back, watches his thick come drip from Taehyung’s hole in stuttering pulses. He leans forward to kiss the backs of Taehyung’s reddened thighs. “Beautiful.”

“Mm,” Taehyung sighs, throat raw and fucked out. He reaches down and runs his fingers through the hot fluid between his cheeks, brings them up to his mouth and kittenishly laps it with his tongue until the digits are clean. Smiling so innocently as he does so. And it’s so like him to make something so vulgar look cute and sexy all in one gesture, as if the come coating his fingers was icing from a cupcake. Jeongguk gapes down at the sight incredulously before falling onto the mattress to face him, hand moving to wrap around the thin wrist. Just to hold on for the sake of it.

As someone once told him, he's still just as nasty. Would never think to stop Taehyung when he's doing something so crudely attractive.

“Still fucking gross,” Jeongguk mutters, smoothing the pad of his thumb along Taehyung’s bottom lip, blotchy and swollen from biting down on it so hard. Something he'll remember to stop Taehyung from doing the next time it happens.

“And you still love it,” Taehyung snorts, grabbing his hand to kiss the knuckles. A relaxing silence washes over them as Taehyung nuzzles the side of his face into the palm of Jeongguk’s hand, always so affectionate post-orgasm and yet Jeongguk can’t complain. Can’t, because he wouldn’t want this any other way. Taehyung’s breathy laugh tickles his wrist. “Glad you finally decided to take me up on that compromise.”

“Honestly? I wanted to do that ever since you mentioned it,” Jeongguk admits, scooting closer to rest his forehead against Taehyung’s and tangling their legs together. Basks in the rhythm that Taehyung's chest beats against his. “The timing was never right, though. Promotion period, you know?”

In this late night hour, somewhere past midnight, they’re still so dirty, come drying on Taehyung’s stomach and between his legs, some on Jeongguk, too. But that could wait till later, getting up to clean up, responsibility, all that. Maybe a hot shower together before Jeongguk drags Taehyung along to do the laundry with Namjoon's sheets. Maybe before the others come back home to catch a few hours of sleep. Maybe before the polluted, smoggy sunrise of Seoul.

But, well. It doesn’t really matter because Taehyung is here, and the public was not. Just as this should be.

“This changes everything,” Taehyung laughs against Jeongguk’s mouth, and it drowns somewhere in a wet kiss. “Like, our onstage spanking battles. We tainted that shit with sex.”

Jeongguk scoffs. “What else is new.”

"Nothing at all," Taehyung says. He props himself up and gazes down at Jeongguk with wild hair, so sloppy and unprofessional. Un-idol. Jeongguk likes that. “You know, I always knew you had a thing for asses. One of those big, obvious things.”

“Yeah?” Jeongguk tiredly coaxes him to continue, reaching up to flatten the defying strands.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, brushing Jeongguk’s sweaty fringe from his eyes in return, swiping a thumb over a heavy eyelid. “Who the hell grabs ass to calm their nerves anyway?”

“Just your ass,” Jeongguk frowns.

“And what about the time you spanked Hoseok hyung so hard he almost cried?”

“Hyung’s too sensitive.”

“Sure,” Taehyung says, unconvinced, and settles back down onto the bed, snuggles close. He pulls the covers over their shoulders and burrows against Jeongguk's chest. “I say we change up the rules a bit.”

“Your proposal?” Jeongguk yawns, turns his head to look Taehyung in the face. Kisses him, once, twice.

“If you beat me, then you get to spank me,” Taehyung mumbles around a yawn, too. Threads their fingers and rests the intertwined hands on top of Jeongguk's steady chest. “If you don’t, then I get to spank you .”

And Jeongguk thinks about it, probably for too long, but he thinks about it. Figures he should stop delaying his answer because they’re both on the brink of crashing into sleep and forgetting all about these new rules. He grunts sleepily and says, “Fine. Deal.”

Taehyung, all too amused, beams a little through all that exhaustion. He leaves out the part where he'll probably end up losing on purpose and says, "Really?"

“Really.” Then Jeongguk laughs, gathers Taehyung up in his arms, and says, “Damn, we really are tanked.”

But maybe the fans already know.

Notes:

For all my thirsty taekook shippers tbh, I hope you enjoyed! This was just a short oneshot to purposefully digress from my bigger projects, so this pwp is here to remind you all that I am still alive and writing (*~▽~)
As always, comments are greatly appreciated! Come talk to my nsfw ass on twitter or on tumblr—I'm such a sucker for au discussions orz.
Thank you for reading!<3

Actions

Kudos

shattered_crystal, dubieshubap, Ms_Tinkaa, RiokoAndBread, birddie, eu4ia, labyrinthv, bow_ri, jraexr, Shabtk19, golf_tangoindia, CyberAnanas, bob14789654, nochuspookie, fanqi, bhavana_m, Miss_Madame, guria27, Karcom, L0L06789, khesiyo, Jeons99, BANGTANJlMIN, natsukirei, njr_bf01, Ohseranders, ggxo22, Remembertolaugh, royalbabykoo, xwewereonlysevenx, klllllllllllmn, strwbear_y, tangerines_with_suga, cfilm, imus, mirandajocelynsmith, Gugksstudio, moo_bou, docinhodojk09, sadivics, Kittaekitty, EmmaSalah29, asmileinmypocket, Axmaa, livit3, kalopsiana, KoostalitoV, minkapeppy, taeevgogh, jhonyrath1005, and 1904 more users as well as 1274 guests left kudos on this work!

Archive of Our Own^beta

Actions

Work Header

Electric Feel

lethallergic

Summary:

Notes:

Work Text:

Notes:

Actions

Kudos

Comments

Footer

About the Archive

Contact Us

Development