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The memory makes his cheeks burn. It shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself.
Seokjin had been comfortable with his displays of affection—as comfortable as possible while a camera transmitted their group meal to millions of fans around the globe. The internet connection was bad and they had to start over a few times, but everyone was so excited to be abroad after almost two years, despite the exhaustion from their tight schedule, that it didn’t bother them. All they wanted was to share that joy with ARMY, no matter how many times their exasperated staff tried to get the livestream to work.
Taehyung just wanted to be close to him. They’d barely had time to breathe for the past days, was it really a crime to take whatever crumbs of quality time he could get with his man?
Lying in his hotel room bed, arms and legs spread towards the edges, staring at the ceiling with a heaving chest, he doesn’t think so.
In trying to keep their relationship under wraps to an obsessive degree, Seokjin oftentimes made their minute public interactions even more suspicious than they would have been had he just played along. Taehyung understands the risks, of course, also wants to protect their relationship and the other members; the thing is, he doesn’t always agree with Seokjin’s methods. They are all very intimate, physically as well, there’s no need to gulp when their hands touch or break a sweat if Taehyung slings an arm around his neck.
He closes his eyes at another surging wave of shame, feels the ghost of Seokjin’s hand above his knee warning him to stop clinging after Taehyung tapped his shoulder, in a silent request for him to lean back on the couch too. Moments like these made Taehyung feel childish, reckless and desperate, when in fact no one would have batted an eyelash if he’d had his way.
Truth be told, he’s needy and clingy, especially when it comes to Seokjin. Try as he might, his hyung is a magnet, his pull too strong for Taehyung’s enamored heart to fight. Still, he’s not a lovesick puppy. He knows the lines he’s not supposed to cross; he just flirts with them when he’s sure he can get away with it, unlike Seokjin, who keeps a safe distance from them at all times—that is, until he doesn’t, and surprises Taehyung by playing along with his bold moves, mainly during concerts.
How is almost kissing on stage before millions of people appropriate, but sitting together in a side hug is not?
His phone buzzes next to his head. He stares at the screen and narrows his eyes. Seokjin is finally coming over.
Taehyung jumps out of bed and checks himself in the large bathroom mirror: his dark brown hair is still damp from showering, his bangs fall over his forehead and make him appear angelic. The loose white T-shirt he’s wearing, though, meant for a certain pair of broader shoulders and thus revealing more of his collarbones than it should, contradicts the softness of his innocent hairstyle. To top it all off, his biggest weapon: minuscule black shorts that expose half of his ass cheeks when pulled all the way up, currently engulfed by the T-shirt—not for long.
Seokjin’s favorites.
He lifts up the white fabric to reveal the black one hugging his flesh, and grins over his shoulder.
Oh, yes, he will make Seokjin beg.
To complete his setup, he jumps back in bed, on his belly now, facing the TV on the opposite wall. He turns it on, plays the next episode of the drama he’s been watching in his spare time—that is, the third episode he’s managed to watch in two months due to the almost non-existent amount of spare time they get.
Seokjin walks in shortly, dragging his slippers on the floor, clad in silky blue pajamas. His hair is also wet and his soapy scent rapidly fills the room like an aura. Taehyung grits his teeth; he needs to resist it.
“Hey, baby,” he yawns, completely unaware of the trap Taehyung has prepared for him, blinking sleepily at the TV.
“Hi.”
After standing by the bed for a moment, he lies down on Taehyung’s body, letting out tired moans with every move he makes to align their frames, and finally sighing when his chest is pressed to Taehyung’s back. Taehyung purses his lips, resolve already cracking under Seokjin’s delicious weight.
“How can you even keep your eyes open? I’m worn out,” Seokjin mumbles to the back of his neck, voice low with sleepiness.
“Shh, I’m trying to pay attention.” He does a good job at sounding annoyed, shrugs Seokjin off.
“Sorry.” Seokjin rolls off of him and plops down on the other side of the bed. Taehyung feels his stare but doesn’t dare look away from the TV. His brain vaguely registers a funny scene happening and he laughs, chin in hand, folded fingers covering his mouth. It makes Seokjin look up at the screen, but since he doesn’t know the context, the humorous exchange doesn’t affect him.
Taehyung goes on ignoring him, so he sits back and lies down properly, replacing his head with his feet at the end of the bed. Strategically, Taehyung chooses this moment to lift his own feet off the mattress, swings his lower legs back and forth in affected carelessness, giving Seokjin a glimpse of his shorts. It takes less than ten seconds for the trick to work: Seokjin slides a warm hand up and down Taehyung’s calf, squeezes it lightly to make it stay still so he can kiss his ankle.
This time Taehyung doesn’t know what’s funny either, yet he giggles, murmurs something about how the character is such a fool for doing that… Whatever that is. Seokjin doesn’t react, just pulls Taehyung closer to the headboard by his legs, and holds one of them in his arms, like his calf is the plushie he wants to hold in his sleep. It makes Taehyung want to nudge his earlobe by wiggling his toe, but that would imply giving Seokjin attention and he can’t break character now that everything is going according to plan.
“Taehyung-ah,” Seokjin calls, hand sliding all the way down his ankle to caress the back of his thigh. Taehyung knows what that tone means, smirks to himself. “Taehyung-ah, come here.”
“Not now,” he forces himself to say, keeps his neck stiff to avoid looking over his shoulder at the pout he knows he’ll find on Seokjin’s face. “I want to watch this.”
“Taehyung-ah,” Seokjin whines again, with a little more urgency. “You can watch that later.”
Taehyung bites his lip to suppress a chuckle, waits until he’s able to feign annoyance to speak again.
“Didn’t you say you were tired?”
Seokjin leans forward to go on fondling Taehyung’s thigh up to the generous amount of ass the shorts leave uncovered.
“Not anymore.”
It takes a lot of self-control to hold back a snicker, yet Taehyung soldiers on. He presses the pause button on the remote control, huffs and gets on all fours to sit on his haunches at the head of the bed, basically throwing his ass back on Seokjin’s face in the process. He hopes to pull a convincing bored expression as he puts one hand on Seokjin’s shoulder to support himself, then throws one leg over his lap and conveniently straddles Seokjin, whose face lights up with want on spot. It falls right away, however, when Taehyung moves to do the same with his other leg.
“Where are you going?” Seokjin stops him with a firm hand on his waist.
“What?” Taehyung shrugs, pretends not to feel the hardening erection in Seokjin’s pants. He indicates the bathroom door by Seokjin’s side of the bed with a head tilt. “I have to pee.”
Seokjin blinks a few times, in a mix of confusion and offence.
“Oh.” Begrudgingly, he loosens his grip. “I thought…”
The bathroom door slams shut before Taehyung hears the end of his sentence. He faces his reflection and laughs into his fist, careful not to make a sound and give himself away. He waits a while then flushes the toilet, washes his hands to solidify his alibi, then strolls out to put the final stage of his vengeful plan in motion.
“I think the air conditioner is broken,” he says as soon as he opens the door, and nonchalantly takes off his shirt while circling the bed to join Seokjin again. “It’s so hot in here.”
Taehyung knows it’s silly and overused, sounds too much like a bad porn movie line, but he doesn’t have much time or energy to come up with something more ingenious, so he hopes that’ll suffice. He feels Seokjin’s eyes on him the whole time, struggles not to smile smugly while lying down next to him, closing his eyes and arching his spine slightly to accommodate his head on the pillows. Seokjin inhales sharply, though he doesn’t move a muscle, stare still clinging to Taehyung’s skin like a touch; it thickens even more when Taehyung opens his legs, one foot planted on the mattress while the other lays folded on the bed, knee pointing in Seokjin’s direction. He brings his forearm up to rest above his head, the cherry on top of his inviting position.
It’s harder to keep his composure than he thought, and the temperature is lower than he imagined, but Taehyung is a man on a mission and he’s not backing down until Seokjin grovels for his attention. He puts on a relaxed expression and pretends to be watching TV again, even blinks and breathes slowly to avoid betraying how hard his thumping heart is beating.
It goes without saying that his pulse is not the only hard thing at this point.
Seokjin shuffles to lie on his side, whole body facing Taehyung now. From his peripheral vision, Taehyung spots a giddy smirk on his face, which he certainly didn’t expect to find there and wants to wipe off immediately. He’s supposed to be agonizing, not enjoying this.
“What are you up to?” Seokjin murmurs, eyes boring holes on his profile.
“Huh?” Taehyung doesn’t move an inch, but the confidence in Seokjin’s voice threatens his façade.
“You’re definitely up to something.”
Seokjin touches the wrist of the arm Taehyung has outstretched between them with his index finger, trails a light path all the way up to his shoulder, then down again, but now on his chest. Taehyung can’t disguise a shudder when Seokjin’s fingertip inches near his nipple, and gulps audibly when it circles the perky bud.
“Your skin is cold, yet you’re lying here, shirtless, looking like sin personified.” He’s panting a little now, and Taehyung isn’t in much better shape. His finger keeps going down Taehyung’s stomach, finds his shorts, plays with the elastic band below his navel. “And you’re clearly not watching that, or at least I hope not.”
Seokjin inches closer to whisper into his ear and palms Taehyung’s hardening cock over the fabric as he does it, eliciting a sharp breath from him.
“Either that male lead is hot as hell, or you’re really happy to see me.”
Their eyes meet at last, and the hunger in Seokjin’s pupils sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. His toes curl, his hips beg for movement, but Taehyung remains still.
“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” His voice cracks when Seokjin licks his lips. “Why I’m doing this?”
“I have a good hunch,” Seokjin replies, softer now, moving his hand to caress Taehyung’s inner thigh. “We’ve been through this quite a few times, haven’t we?”
His thumb runs over Taehyung’s crotch under the shorts and Taehyung squirms, breath labored and muscles tense, yet glaring back at Seokjin in fierce defiance.
“Yes, but it still gets to me,” he whimpers pathetically, feels smaller and pettier by the second. “I can’t help it.”
The look on Seokjin’s face shifts. He scoots closer to Taehyung and props himself up on one elbow so his face hovers over Taehyung’s by mere inches. He speaks slowly, calmly, looking deep into Taehyung’s eyes all the while.
“You know why I did what I did. We have to be careful.” He ruffles Taehyung’s hair with his free hand. “Please don’t think shying away from your touches gives me any joy. I hate it. I wish I could brag about it, show you off, every single time.”
Taehyung nods resignedly, closes his eyes to obliterate the stupid tears before they even threaten to form. He’s already embarrassed himself enough as it is.
“I understand why you’re sad, and I’m so sorry to be the cause of it,” Seokjin goes on, as if reading his mind. “I’ll try to do better. Okay? We’ll find a way.”
“Okay,” Taehyung pouts, looks up at him again with eyes full of longing. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll do better too.”
Seokjin smiles so warmly Taehyung’s heart melts. “You did nothing wrong, baby. It’s perfectly normal to feel. I like that about you.”
Taehyung’s eyes widen, whereas his chest tightens. “You do?”
“Of course I do,” he chuckles shyly, kisses Taehyung’s cheek and buries his face in his neck. “I like everything about you.”
Seokjin’s tongue meets his skin, dispels whatever hesitation is left in him. He grabs fistfuls of Seokjin’s shirt, pulls him closer and angles his head to allow his lips more access. Seokjin sighs in relief against his jaw, wraps a strong arm around Taehyung’s waist and shoves his hand underneath the shorts to grope his ass.
The room is all heavy breaths, wet noises and low moans for a while; they’re both naked in no time, and Seokjin promptly reaches out for the bottle of lube in the nightstand drawer. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, warms it up under Taehyung’s transfixed gaze before taking his hand between Taehyung’s legs and stretching him open—not as thoroughly as he likes, taking his sweet time driving Taehyung crazy, but patient and diligent as always. Despite how extra careful they are abroad, a rule long established between them, Taehyung can’t stop the feeble, breathy moans that erupt from his throat all the while, and Seokjin is most eager to drink them all, keeps kissing and praising him while his fingers work their magic.
“Now, hyung, please,” Taehyung cries into his mouth, as low as his arousal allows, clinging to Seokjin’s neck with both arms and canting his hips up.
Seokjin doesn’t need further encouragement, pulls back to slick up his length with more lube and slots himself between Taehyung’s legs. He slides in with considerable ease, and both groan in pleasure. Taehyung wraps his legs around Seokjin’s hips, eyes rolling back at the incomparable sensation of having his insides rearranged, that physical and emotional fullness that only Seokjin can provide.
His arms slide under Taehyung’s shoulder blades to cling to him as well, and he moves like heaven: relentless, on the verge of rough but not quite there, keeps a pace that’s neither fast nor slow so Taehyung can walk properly the next day. Taehyung smiles to himself, relishes in the high of being so thoroughly fucked, of having the man he loves in his arms, inside him, all over him, can’t think of anything else beyond Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin. He chants his name like a prayer, soars when the sound of skin slapping on skin becomes erratic, along with Seokjin’s muffled moans in his ear.
“I love you,” he stutters, in that delicate moment on the edge of sanity, right before the world goes blank and rebuilds itself in fragments behind his eyelids.
“Love you… So much,” Seokjin mumbles back, barely makes it to the last syllable before he thrusts deep and stills.
Taehyung tenses up under him, hole clamping around Seokjin, tipped over by the hot fluid coating his walls. His release pools between their bodies, warm and sticky; Seokjin holds him tighter, like he wants to squeeze it all out of him.
They take some time to recover, breathing and holding each other like they’re about to be ripped apart. When Seokjin finds the strength to lift himself up and look at him, Taehyung is grinning like a fool, spent and used and sated beyond belief. Seokjin chuckles and kisses him softly before pulling out and gasping at the mess they’ve made.
“Shower?” Taehyung mouths, although his eyelids droop. Seokjin nods, and together they clean up just enough to reach the bathroom. They wash and dry each other lazily, kissing every now and then, too spent to go any further.
Once they’re back in bed and the lights are off, Taehyung is more than willing to drift off to sleep. He’s halfway gone when his phone lights up on the nightstand. It only lasts a few seconds, but the darkness that enshrouds them again afterwards suddenly feels oppressive. An unwarranted influx of thoughts floods Taehyung’s mind.
What if people find out someday? What if they ruin everything for themselves and the others? What if they slip and everything falls apart?
He snaps out of it when Seokjin hums contentedly into the back of his neck, intertwines their legs under the covers. Taehyung’s heart pumps renewed confidence through his veins. His eyes fall shut, and he peacefully swats the anxious thoughts away with the same words he used to tease Seokjin earlier, and that led them to sort things out in the best way possible.
Not now.