It’s dark when Namjoon stumbles inside Jin’s place – a sliver of light from a streetlamp coming in through the living room window at the back of the apartment, just barely illuminating the narrow hallway in hazy grayscale.
It’s okay though, he’s been here before.
Not too often; maybe five or six times. Okay, who’s he kidding; he knows perfectly well that he’s been here exactly six times before, and that Jin has been over to his place exactly three times. Actually, he’s pretty sure he can remember the exact dates of each individual occasion, just like how he already knows Jin’s birthday and his freaking zodiac sign.
Not because Jin ever told him, but because Namjoon googled “Kim Seokjin birthday?”
Because Namjoon is a dumbass who thinks way too much about stupid little details – as if he’ll be able to understand the world if he just studies all of its littlest components hard enough. As if knowing how to pronounce dead philosophers’ names correctly and memorizing enough trivia about crabs will make everything start to make sense somehow.
Will somehow magically make him confident and comfortable in his own skin.
Alas, he is, in fact, not very confident. And no matter how many sagittarius horoscopes he reads, Jin definitely still does not make sense.
It wasn’t too bad when they rolled through the door – just a little tipsy, a lot turned on – Namjoon was feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges and his mind was just blank enough. But as soon Jin says “wait, gotta pee,” and shuts the bathroom door behind him, it’s like all of Namjoon’s nerves go haywire and the thoughts come rolling in.
What if this is the last time I ever come here? – Is it just cause I’m convenient? Cause it’s so obvious how into him I am, and he just didn’t feel like putting in an effort tonight? – What if he ghosts me after tonight, and then tells everyone I’m bad at sex? – Am I bad at sex?? I’m okay at sex right? Right?? – He probably fucks a new person every night just because he can. Wait no, no one has time for that. But he could though… If he wanted. Maybe he does though? – What’s his deal WHAT’S HIS DEAL–
“KNOCK KNOCK, anyone home? Namjoon?”
Jin’s calling out to him, already out of the bathroom and slinking across the hallway and into his bedroom, signaling the way with the dim yellow glow of a Mario-question-block-lamp he lights on his windowsill. As if it weren’t obvious already which room, specifically, he was planning on inviting Namjoon into. Jin’s voice is a little goofy, but somehow still sexy because he’s Jin. Motherfucker. And Namjoon’s just standing there spacing out in the hallway like a dufus, thinking too much again.
He lets his eyes trail over the bare walls of the hallway and into the combo living room / kitchen, chairs askew around the little dining table that doesn’t look like it gets much use, a dark shelving unit with some knick-knacks displayed haphazardly, refrigerator humming on one end, a tiny blue light glowing on the TV on the other end. It’s typical for a place shared by two dudes who aren’t home all that much.
Namjoon remembers the first time he’d been invited over to Jin and Taehyung’s apartment; Tae had texted him saying he missed him and to come over for drinks, and Namjoon had smoked a little pot in preparation. Knowing that Taehyung was now living with someone Very Good Looking™ and Very Popular™, Namjoon felt unequipped to stay chill in the presence of that particular brand of handsomeness.
He’d tried to smoke just little enough to be cool and calm and thoroughly blasé, but not quite enough for anyone to notice it on him. Alas, instead of sticking to the plan and being cool, he’d felt immediately thrown off-kilter by Jin’s dazzling presence and, scrambling for something to talk about, he’d started the night off by being rude to Jin, like 5 seconds after Taehyung introduced them. He‘d just looked around the sparsely furnished apartment when his dumb brain told him to comment on how Jin & Tae had both a Playstation 4 pro and a Nintendo Switch in their tiny shared space, and he’d wondered out loud if Jin was spoilt or something, because he knew Tae wasn’t.
He of course immediately regretted his comment, first impression ruined forever. Jin had just leaned back on his incredibly average-looking couch with his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised and a tiny indecipherable half-smile-half-pout playing at his lips – no comment though – while Taehyung, sweet and good and talkative, explained how each system had a couple of games that were just too good to miss out on, and that consoles weren’t that expensive these days anyway. Especially now that Jin and him had started making a little bit of money, rookie actors still, but up-and-coming TV darlings both of them, lucky dogs. Namjoon, freaked out about having ruined the night in under five minutes, and maybe slightly more stoned than he’d planned to be (or not stoned enough to be cool about saying dumb shit), had spent the rest of the night nervously rambling on and on about how “Waluigi is the ultimate example of the individual shaped by the signifier, only existing in reference to others.”
Nothing had happened that night. Of course not, why would it have? Jin hadn’t invited him over, he just lived there. With Taehyung.
Namjoon had met Taehyung when they were teenagers, training under Big Whammy Entertainment to be in an idol group together. They’d lived together in a dorm, sharing a tiny, stinky bedroom with a handful of other dudes, whispering to each other their most sincere dreams and their ugliest fears, fighting, joking, trying their best to encourage each other. Until, one day, Namjoon decided to peace out because he was tired of feeling like he wasn’t good enough, not good enough at dancing, at looking pretty while dancing, at looking pretty while not dancing. No matter how hard he tried and no matter how much he wanted to. He’d gotten so unreasonably angry about how some other guy who came from a similar background as he did – rapping, producing, not really thinking much further than that, until an entertainment company saw potential in him – how that other guy just seemed to pick the dancing up naturally, seemingly without trying. Actually, he seemed to actively not try, because visibly trying to be good at dancing wasn’t cool.
But Namjoon wasn’t cool and he had tried so hard, and his fellow trainees had still constantly joked about how bad he was. And it just got him thinking a lot of thoughts, like everything did. And among those thoughts was 'Hey Namjoon, you’re smart, and you’re a really good rapper, and a good writer and producer. Just know your strengths dude, and roll with them. Fuck the rest. You can be great on your own, you can release your stuff yourself if you have to. This place isn’t for you'.
So he’d called it quits, and yeah maybe he tried to sound casual when he told people he’d just decided to “peace out”, but it wasn’t a decision he made lightly. Nothing was. He’d agonized over every little aspect of it for a long time before he came to his conclusion.
Taehyung had also peaced out not long after Namjoon did. He’d started getting work in commercials when he was still a trainee, and with his quirky charm and striking good looks he’d, seemingly effortlessly, rolled those opportunities up into a budding acting career. He’d switched agencies and wound up sharing an apartment with Kim Seokjin, new on the scene as well, but somehow becoming a household name already; occasionally referred to by pseudonyms such as ‘Car-Door-Guy’ or ‘Third-One-From-The-Left’, due to his unmatched ability to look stunning while doing mundane things, like getting out of a car or just… standing… having his picture taken with a bunch of his castmates.
Which made it extremely surprising and entirely unexpected when Jin asked to accompany Taehyung to one of the shows Namjoon was performing at in the wake of Waluigi-gate.
Namjoon wasn’t headlining, he was somewhere in the middle of the lineup, at a club he performed at pretty regularly. It was a place people in the entertainment industry probably considered “underground”, but trendy enough, as of late, that there was always a line at the door.
I’m just lucky, Namjoon thought, nice enough to trick a handful of cool and talented people into being my friends. And hot people, like Jin, want to mingle with cool people in trendy clubs. Jin probably just wanted to skip the line, and that’s why he asked to be Tae’s +1 on the guest list. Yup yup that’s definitely it.
Namjoon had been pretty certain of his conclusion, which made in entirely surprising and extremely unexpected when – after Tae and Jin had come to chat backstage after the show, and Tae had left to do tequila shots with Zico – Jin had suddenly looked at Namjoon like a hungry sex demon and just casually gotten up to straddle him on the ratty backstage couch. Then he’d kissed him sloppy and dirty, and just casually announced, like it was an unquestionable truth, that he’d be taking Namjoon home with him.
Which he then did.
And then he sucked Namjoon’s dick.
And then he fucked Namjoon in the mouth.
And then he’d given Namjoon a sweet little kiss goodbye when Namjoon had told him he had to leave, right after the sex things were all done. That he had a meeting in a studio with someone in the morning. Which was technically true, (okay, the meeting was in the afternoon,) but mostly Namjoon had just felt so overwhelmed and confused by what had just gone down; felt like he needed to go outside and walk home, even though home was on the verge of being too far to walk. He’d muttered quietly to himself most of the way home; “what the fuck, what the hell just happened, that was so fucking hot, jesus what the hell– ”
The following weeks were a blur of anxious excitement and sweaty palms – he started running into Jin more, but it wasn’t like Jin was making an effort. Namjoon started getting invited to more industry parties – usually invited along with his trendsetting friends from the rap scene. Tae wanted to hang out more, said he’d been missing him since it’d been a while since they stopped living together at the Big Whammy dorms, and thus Tae started showing up at more of Namjoon’s shows when he was free.
And sometimes Jin would be there too – at the parties or the shows, and sometimes he wouldn’t be there.
Which just meant that Namjoon was absolutely 100% on edge for every single function he attended (not to say that he attended more functions now in hopes of running into Jin, except yeah that was exactly what he was doing).
Like, the minute he started thinking, chill, this is fine, Jin’s not coming tonight probably, he’d hear that dumb shrill windshield-wiper laugh bouncing at him from across the room. And of all the sounds that his dick had an immediate pavlovian response to, he was sure that this was the stupidest one. How the fuck did Jin manage to be so insufferably sexy in all the dumb little things he did, things that in theory were supposed to be unattractive, how dare he? How dare he be so charming and loud and witty all the time, how dare he make half the room roar with laughter one minute by telling jokes that weren’t even supposed to be funny, then turn around the next minute to unabashedly call out and shut down anyone who so much as looked at him with the barest hint of disdain. How dare he be all that, but also, a complete enigma. A wall, both literally in his physical broadness, and figuratively in his emotional opaqueness.
It sent Namjoon reeling every time they had an encounter, and he’d spend the rest of the evening internally panicking; Do I look okay? I bet my face is really greasy right now. Am I standing weird? Are there even cool ways to stand? There are definitely cool attractive ways to stand and I'll live my entire life without figuring them out. Why can’t I be like motherfucking Big Whammy trainee Park Jimin, whose literal every movement looked sexy, even when he was just like, vacuuming? Life’s so unfair.
During one of Namjoon’s internal Jin-induced panics, Taehyung had looked up at him with a little smirk and said “Hyung, you good? Got a little crush on Jin hyung maybeee..?”
To which Namjoon had replied, “no, I fucking can’t stand that guy, he’s way too handsome and his jokes aren’t even actually funny. People just laugh because they think he’s hot.”
“Okaaay, but – I’m handsome too, right hyung? And you can stand me?”
“Tae that is completely different. I literally watched your face shift from awkward-puberty-face into… whatever kinda alignment-of-the-stars-situation you’ve got going now. I still just see the same weird kid when I look at you though.”
And Tae’d just chuckled and said, “aight, you do you hyung. I just thought, you know – the walls are kinda thin at home...”
He’d said that last part with an eyebrow cocked and a shit-eating grin, and then promptly changed the subject when Namjoon came up short for a response. And Namjoon felt like a pining nerd getting casually taken advantage of by the local sex-god, while getting publicly mocked at the town square. And he wanted to disappear into the floor a little. But, the feeling was somehow not quite strong enough to prevent him from then immediately rushing into the highest of highs when Jin suddenly gave him a little wink or tugged at his sleeve and asked if Namjoon would show him what his place looked like this time around. Or that he really needed Namjoon to come home with him and tell him more about how Waluigi is a man seen only in mirror images; how he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about queer theory analyses of Waluigi, and that he needed Namjoon to come with him and discuss it somewhere private.
And obviously he’d been joking and making fun of Namjoon – anyone with half a brain cell could detect that – but also, that meant he was just straight up telling Namjoon that they were gonna go home and fuck. Which was so annoyingly hot and not helpful at all in deciphering what was actually going on between them, if anything. (Although – sex is definitely something, right? He though. But... sex can be a lot of things. And Namjoon felt like he had zero leads as to which of those things his current situation was supposed to be).
It went on like that for a few weeks, with Namjoon constantly feeling some combination of excited, scared, confused and aroused. With just the tiniest pinch of hope thrown into the mix – although he tried his best to squash that, to avoid inevitable disappointment.
Sure, they’d talk when they ran into each other, when they "hung out". About the entertainment industry, about their work, about video games, about living with Taehyung. But for all the talking they’d done, Namjoon still felt terribly unsure of what kind of person Jin really, actually was.
Meanwhile, he himself felt like a way-too-open book; inevitably going on rants and tangents and accidentally telling half his life story in the process. Too sincere, too uncool, he cared too much about everything.
And then they’d have sex.
And the way Namjoon got when that happened didn’t help either; Jin only barely had to quirk his brow at him in a particular way for Namjoon to go all doe-eyed. He’d open his mouth to let Jin’s fingers in way too easily, and he’d lose himself so fast in hot, sticky, frantic, drunk sex, like – he’d just blink, and suddenly he was on all fours, getting pounded within an inch of his life, sweat streaming down the back of his neck while Jin bit down hard on his shoulder. Momentarily feeling too good to worry about how loud his moans would get – only to worry himself sick about it afterwards. About how that wasn’t exactly the type of image he tried to project, about what type of image he should be trying to project though? Always leaving or being left alone shortly after the sex was over, to stew in those thoughts, stew in all the thoughts that he couldn’t shake off. Leaving because his mind got too loose and open after sex, it made him think about all the little things in life, about the wonders of human intimacy, and he’d get emotional – afraid to reveal himself and his wants and his desire to go deeper with someone like Jin, armed with so many snappy comebacks to everything that it seemed perfectly clear that he wasn’t the least bit interested in letting anyone get below the surface.
The nights when he thinks he might run into Jin, but doesn’t, aren’t any better than the nights when he does run into him. On those nights, he just stews in thoughts of what Jin might be doing instead. How hot the people he’s spending his time with probably are, the people that aren’t Namjoon. A lot cooler probably. And hotter. Yeah.
And now it’s another night, and, okay, Jin is here, but so are people who are cooler and hotter than Namjoon. And Jin’s talking to them, right in front of Namjoon, so Namjoon doesn’t even have to use his imagination. So it’s like, an awful no-win torture situation of a night.
It’s a casual event, some venue throwing an anniversary party for the musicians that have performed there frequently over the past years. Open bar, the DJs have been decent all night.
And who cares because Namjoon is using all of his energy to try to keep it together, to seem cool and unaffected by the not one but two very beautiful, mildly famous musicians who are currently very blatantly hitting on Jin right in front of Namjoon’s face, having joined them at the table they’re sitting at with Zico and Taehyung. Namjoon's been taking minuscule sips of his grey-goose-and-soda all night. He feels kinda sick, probably for some reason completely unrelated to the fact that he’s had to watch Jin flirt and be flirted with all night, (okay, who is he kidding, that is probably the entire reason why his dumb weak stomach isn’t letting him just drown his dumb sorrows already).
The girl and guy currently competing for Jin’s affection – (or, are they even competing? God, Jin probably has hot hot threesomes all the damn time) – they’re both pretty drunk at this point. Before they know it the bar is closing and they all move the conversation outside.
Namjoon, preoccupied with trying to seem like he’s not paying any attention, while also trying to overhear Jin’s conversation, somehow misses when Tae and Zico both slip away. And suddenly Namjoon is left there alone, listening to two people arguing over which of their houses would be more convenient for Jin to sleep at.
Namjoon what kind of loser are you, he thinks to himself. You don’t have to listen to this. They barely even register that you’re still here. You’re totally fourth-wheeling and you look pathetic.
Gotta go fast.
He gives Jin the most casual little half-wave that he can muster – sees Jin raise his eyebrows at him slightly in some type of indecipherable expression, it’s probably nothing. And he starts walking away, towards where he parked his bike. Like the sad nerd he is.
Namjoon you gotta get over that guy, he thinks. There’s probably plenty of nice and good and uncomplicated gay boys that like you. Maybe?
Namjoon knows that he’s like, not ugly? Like, he’s had plenty of girls and even some boys fall into the thirst traps he posts on instagram in some of his weaker moments. And people telling him he’s so handsome while asking him to sign merch after he performs.
But he also feels ugly a lot of the time? And he’s pretty sure those two feelings can co-exist entirely, although it doesn’t make sense and he doesn’t understand how.
Anyway, it’s time to hajima with Jin, he thinks. And then gets distracted thinking about memes and chuckling to himself.
And he’s about to get back on his his spiral of thinking up reasons why Jin is too good for him, and bad for him also, when he notices footsteps coming up behind him, fast and even, in the rather otherwise quiet, post-closing-time-early-on-a-sunday-morning-streets. He looks back and – think of the sex-demon and he shall appear, I guess?
Jin’s walking straight towards him, face determined.
Namjoon thinks; is he like, walking back to the hot people's house right now after a condom run or whatever? Do they live down this way? Oop, better not let him catch me on my nerd bike.
Namjoon’s really trying to be done with this, tells himself that’s what’s best. He doesn’t exactly want to be done, but it’s too hard, being scared all the time and doubting and scrutinizing everything that goes on.
He thinks fast and ducks through an alley that leads to the next parallel street, still going towards his general direction. He’s full-on power walking now. There, that’ll shake him off.
Alas, that’s weird? Jin is now full-on running after him. And shouting.
“Joon! Hey Namjoon!!”
Fuck. I can’t pretend to not see him coming this way anymore now, can I? Guess not.
“Hey! Jin! Wooo… sorry! Didn’t realize it was you walking behind me.” A lie.
Jin cocks an eyebrow.
“...I just–” *huf* – Jin’s catching his breath. Really? Kim Seokjin, out of breath? – “I didn’t get to say bye and uh… hey, are you mad at me?”
“What? No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?” Sound casual Namjoon. Sound unbothered.
“Good! Yeah I dunno why you’d be. I was just scared for a second.”
Jin? Admitting that he has one (1) fear? What a time to be alive.
“So!” Jin’s strolling up close by his side now. “...where ya headed?”
Fuck. Might as well admit it now. “Uh I was just gonna get my bike and ride home. I parked it behind the old theater down there before coming to the bar.” I’m a nerd who loves riding his bike.
“Jooon… *tsk tsk*” Jin is poking a finger into Namjoon’s shoulder kinda hard and giving him a fake-judgy look. “You shouldn’t bike drunk. It’s illegal.”
“Well call 911 I guess. Also, I’m not drunk. I only had like one and a half drink.”
“Yeah, same actually.” Jin’s just kinda looking at Namjoon now while they walk, lips pursed.
“Uh…” Namjoon clears his throat, “I thought you might be going home with those people you, uh – we were talking to at the table. Who were talking to you.” Fuck. Learn to say words.
Jin chuckles. “Really? They were fun I guess. Funny. But I was totally not into like… either of them. Not in that way. I thought that was kind of obvious. They were totally wasted and kinda… messy. Fun to humor though. Good banter. Pretty sure they ended up just going home with each other, actually?”
“And you didn’t wanna go with them?”
“......No??” More chuckles. Confused chuckles, if Namjoon squints, but he’s probably just projecting. “Did you… want me to go home with them Namjoon…? Am I just being a big creepo and following you right now?”
“What? No.” Namjoon thinks, somewhere in the back of his brain, that Jin running after him could, to someone, seem like kind of a desperate move, but only in an alternate universe where it isn’t so obvious how pitifully smitten Joon is, and how out of his league Jin is. “...uh. I just thought… ..why not?”
“Why not what?” Jin blinks. “Why am I not… going home with them?”
Namjoon side-eyes him, trying to make some type of yes that was my question face.
“Uh, because… I don’t want to?” Jin seems to be thinking, for just a second, about whether he really needs to justify this further.
“Because I want to go home with you? Just got caught off-guard by you slinking away like a sneaky, slippery noodle boy.” He smirks. “Also! now I obviously have to make sure the talented and promising Kim Namjoon doesn’t get killed in a tragic drunk-biking accident. You know my career would be forever ruined if the press found out I could’ve prevented it, but didn’t…” Jin says that with a rather convincing look of grave fake-concern.
“There’s barely anyone in the streets,” Namjoon says, still side-eyeing Jin.
“Come on, you dangerous crime man. Let’s get in a cab.” Jin hooks one arm under Namjoon’s. “It’s on me. You can pick your bike up in the morning.”
There’s a brief lull in the conversation, just the sound of their footsteps on the sidewalk, still walking arm-in-arm.
“Unless… ” Jin looks up at Namjoon, questioning, “just please tell me if I’m being totally out of line here, yeah?”
What does that even mean what does he even mean
“Nah, a cab actually sounds really good right now. I’m kinda too tired to bike.”
And so they’re in a cab again, and it’s late in the night. And Jin is looking out the window, away from Namjoon, but he’s placed a warm hand on Namjoon’s thigh, like it’s the most natural thing, pressing the pads of his fingers ever so slightly into the meat of it.
A little while before they get to their destination, Jin stops looking out the window, leans his head back on the headrest, just looking at Namjoon. A hungry look in his eyes, not quite soft but not hard either. And then they’re kissing, like they’ve done before (on exactly seven occasions), lips soft and wet, and the kiss has just barely started to deepen when Jin pulls back to get out his wallet, they reach their destination and he pays the cab driver.
They climb the stairs to Jin's apartment two steps at a time, giggling a bit, pushing each other a little. They’re kissing again while Jin fishes for his key in his pocket and somehow gets the door open with his mouth full of Namjoon’s fat bottom lip. (Is there anything he can’t do? This perfect man? )
And then they’re stumbling inside, and Namjoon is at Jin’s house for exactly the 7th time, and they’re about to have sex for exactly the 9th time (they’ve previously had sex at Jin’s house five times and Namjoon’s house thrice.)
Is that a lot? Does it mean anything? Should it? Namjoon feels like eight is a lot of times to have had sex with just one person, but that’s probably just him being sentimental and childish, eight is probably nothing for a heartthrob like Jin. It’s still just a single digit, a insignificant fuckbuddy type of situation, probably.
And Namjoon is spacing out again, thinking too hard, and Jin is calling him into his bedroom, so Namjoon tries his very best to turn off his brain and hand the controls over to his dick, before he walks inside Jin’s room and shuts the door.
“I think,” Jin says, “I think Tae’s probably not coming home tonight. Think he left with your friend. Good for them!”
He’s sitting at the foot of his bed, leaning back on his hands, sizing Namjoon up, still looking hungry, maybe hungrier than before, lips shiny and dark.
He sniffles and lifts his gaze up to meet Namjoon’s. “How’s my big handsome boy doing?”
“M’not that big,” Namjoon stands in front of him, right hand on his left elbow, awkward and pouting, feeling too big and too small at the same time.
Jin smiles and scrunches his nose. “Yeah you’re right, you’re just a slippery noodle boy, aren’t you?”
Jin lifts his right hand, crooked fingers circling Namjoon’s left wrist.
“Good thing I caught you before you noodled right out of my life!”
“Come’ere” Jin pats the head of the bed “can you lay back for me, handsome boy?”
He’s not quite a stranger to it at this point; Jin telling him what to do, and Namjoon sighing in relief as he’s able to let his mind go blank for a bit, and let his desire take over.
Namjoon does note Jin’s looking suspiciously soft right now, but fuckit, it’s just a fleeting observation and Namjoon is already getting hard just from being spoken to like that, from being looked at like that. He realizes though, while gingerly leaning back on the bed, that they’ve never been this sober before, things have always been faster, blurrier, more frantic.
Jin shuffles on to his knees on the bed, and slots one leg on each side of Namjoon’s still fully-clothed butt, under each of Namjoon’s raised knees. He runs his hands down the front of Namjoon’s shirt, admiring.
Namjoon feels like every nerve-ending in his body is expanding infinitely, like he’s going to catch fire, like he’s going to die.
Jin whistles, long and low. “This is nice. Gucci, huh?” Jin’s fingertips linger around Namjoon’s nipples and the outlines of his pecs. “I know for a fact... that this shirt is like, over a million won. I could pay my rent for a month with the money that this shirt costs.” He’s rubbing the tiniest, softest circles around Namjoon’s nipples through the shirt. “Interesting choice for someone who thinks it’s lavish for one household to own two gaming consoles…”
Namjoon’s having a hard time controlling his breath now, he’s so hard. But also, so embarrassed. Can’t believe he brought that up, shit.
“Uh – my rich friend gave it to me. It’s the only fancy article of clothing I own, I swear. But uhm –” Namjoon can feel hot blush creeping up his face “– I like wearing it because… then, maybe, people will look at me and think that I’m a dude who owns multiple fancy expensive shirts? And not just one?” Ugh Namjoon why do you have to admit to everything so readily. Jin’ll think you’re so pretentious and lame now.
Jin giggles. “Smart boy. It works. Fooled me, for sure.” He’s unbuttoning the shirt now. “The way your chest feels through this fabric is practically pornographic. Illegal. It’s even thinner and silkier than it looks. So… that’s how you got so slippery…”
Namjoon rolls his eyes.
“–I wanna–” Jin pauses with the last button between his fingers and looks up into Namjoon’s face, questioning, “– I’m going to open it but can you keep it on? Always wanted to fuck a Gucci boy.”
Fuck. “Yeah. Yeah I can keep it on.” Oh great Namjoon, just excellent, you’re that easy? You’re gonna let this absolute demon ruin your one expensive shirt by making you jizz all over it before he also probably jizzes all over it, and then moves on and leaves you a heartbroken mess and wearer of 0 expensive shirts? Idiot.
Jin’s unbuttoned the last button and moved on to Namjoon’s pants, carefully undoing his belt and fly. Namjoon’s dick twitches a little when it’s freed from its denim prison. He’s so turned on but also feeling exposed, vulnerable, embarrassed. He throws his arm over his head, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, while Jin finishes pulling his pants and boxers off and gets the lube from his nightstand.
“Ready to get even more slippery?” Jins soothes the palms of his hands up the insides of Namjoon’s thighs and then wraps his right hand around his cock, tugging at it loosely.
What the fuck Namjoon, how’d you allow yourself to get it so bad for a guy who talks like this. In lieu of an answer he’s just grunting, long and low, and grinding up into Jin’s hand a little bit.
“Namjoooon? Helloooo? Namjoon??” Jin’s hand (regretfully) leaves Namjoon’s dick to pull Namjoon’s arm off his face. “Oh phew, there you are. Thought I’d lost you under this giant tangle of impossibly long limbs for a second.”
“Oh my god .” Namjoon would bet like, a lot of money that he’s gone beat-red by now. “Are you going to fuck me or are you just going to sit there with your clothes on and be a weird dork all night??”
Namjoon could’ve sworn he saw a briefest glimpse of fear flash across Jin’s face, before he schools it and narrows his eye, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face.
“What were the lyrics to your song again, the one I was asking you about after your show the other night?” Jin pretends to concentrate and try to remember for a bit, while settling down on his elbows and delivering an open mouthed kiss to Namjoon’s neck, followed by a couple more leading down towards his nipple. He briefly tongues over Namjoon’s left nipple before looking up, “ah! ~I wanna die right now, I wanna I wanna fuck right now~, that was it right? Your feisty horny-boy anthem?” His grin is menacing now.
“Oh my god, fuck off. I explained the lyrics to you like five times, you know those weren’t them.” Namjoon wants to hide again but he uses all the courage he can muster up to stare back at Jin, challenging. Why the fuck did you bring me here if you think I’m such a loser, he tries to telepathically project at Jin.
Jin bites back his smile, shakes his head, then settles back down with elbows on either side of Namjoon’s head.
“To answer your question from earlier...” he brings his mouth right up to Namjoon’s ear and whispers; “I’m gonna fuck you.”
He sits back up and starts peeling his own clothes off, quickly and efficiently. “Also, that’s no way to talk to your hyung, did no one ever teach you that?” With firm hands he pushes Namjoon’s knees further apart and delivers quick little smacks to the insides of each of thigh, the sounds ringing off the walls of the small room in succession.
Namjoon feels like his mind’s being twisted inside out, what the fuck, how the fuck is this so hot. A moan catches in his throat and he presses his lips together.
Jin pushes Namjoon’s knees closer to his chest with a sly little smile and murmurs, “can you be a good boy and hold your legs up like this? Let hyung make you feel good?”
Namjon nods dumbly and holds on to the backs of his thighs. Feels so dirty and so shy. The times that they’ve fucked, like actual penetrative sex, he’s always been on his knees or his stomach, face smooshed into a pillow, Jin fucking him from behind, taking what he wanted from him and making him see stars with his eyes scrunched shut, the room spinning.
“Wanna see you,” Jin says, circling Joon’s rim with a finger now, leisurely adding more lube as he goes, dipping the finger in. “Like seeing you. Watching you.” Namjoon’s so incredibly turned on, he relaxes easily despite himself. “And hearing you. Your fucking voice…” Jin keeps going, slowly, with one finger, then two, once he feels like Namjoon’s relaxed enough. Then three.
“Jin, fuck , come on… “ the stretch feels so good but there’s nothing on god’s green earth that’s made Namjoon feel as good as Jin’s five star dick has in the past couple of months, and he’s grinding down on his fingers now, starting to feel desperate for it.
He receives a smack to the back of one thigh. “What do you want Joon?”
“I want you to put your fuckin dick in me already!” Namjoon’s frustration is building, he wants Jin to stop putting him on edge, wants to get to the part where his mind goes blank, even if it’s only for a little while, to silence the little voice at the back of his brain that says; any minute now Jin’s just gonna stop, get up, pull his clothes back on and say ‘haha, just kidding, I don’t actually wanna have sex with you, was never that into it, goodbye!’
“Manners." Jin’s pulling on a condom now, slicking himself up, but he makes no move to get his dick any closer to Namjoon’s ass, just goes back to crooking his fingers inside of him.
“Please… hyung!!” – the words come out impatient rather than pleading.
“Whose dick does Kim Namjoon want in his ass?” Jin’s picking up the pace with his fingers and Namjoon thinks he could probably come after a while of just doing this, but he really doesn’t want that, really really wants more, wants Jin to lose himself too.
The frustration is palpable in Namjoon’s voice now. “You’re not gonna make me say some bullshit like ‘pwease, I want hyung’s dick!’ Just fuckin… get in me already!!”
“What’s my name?” Jin’s removed his fingers and is lazily circling Namjoon’s hole with the tip of his cock, looking down at it.
Namjoon’s practically yelling now; “Jin!! Seokjin! I want Kim fucking Seokjin to put his dumb fat dick in me and get me off before I die of old age in his bed! Are you happy now?! Can you make up your fucking mind on what you want me to call y–”
Namjoon’s voice cuts off with a loud, surprised groan as Jin pushes into him all at once, deliberate and firm. “Mmh – sorry. I just needed to make sure.”
Namjoon kind of wants to slap him but the feeling of finally having Jin in him is overwhelming, and good, and all he can manage is a choked “Ahhh, Fuck! ”
Jin gives them a moment to adjust before Namjoon lets out another little “Fuuck...” and starts grinding down on Jin, urging him to move. To which Jin responds by starting to thrust, his pace immediately hard and relentless.
“This is what you wanted right, angry boy? This is how you like it?”
“Ahh–yeah–!” Namjoon can barely get a response in with how loud he’s moaning, mind finally blissfully consumed with the feeling of getting fucked hard and fast, unable to focus on anything other than the sensation of it, besides maybe a tiny passing thought of – man, this guy must go hard in the gym.
“Fuuckk. You’re so fucking tight, feel so good. Always so good Joon.“ Jin’s brow is set in pleasure and determination, he’s breathing hard, pace barely faltering, lips pursed into a fat little o, looking almost purple in the dim light.
Namjoon can feel his orgasm starting to build already. Jin’s hitting the spot and he can feel it in his whole body, how he’s rolling steadily towards the drop, and his arms are aching from holding his legs up, and his legs are aching, not used to extended periods of contortion. And everything else aches too, but it’s such a good ache, so delicious. He’s a man of simple pleasure, he thinks, he can deal with getting his heart broken later if he can just have this for now, flat on his back, getting the living daylight pounded out of him by this handsome bastard.
Suddenly Jin stops thrusting. He’s needs to catch his breath, tiny streams of sweat rolling down his forehead, down his neck and his chest. He swallows, panting hard, resting his hands on Namjoon’s waist, thumbs just barely stroking up and down Namjoon’s belly. And he just looks. Looks into Namjoon’s face, and Namjoon is caught off-guard because, jesus, he’s never seen this look on Jin’s face before, he looks so open, so soft, so sincere, when he says to Namjoon–
“You’re so–” *huf* “–unbelievably–” *huf* “–beautiful.” *huf*
Namjoon was not expecting that.
Who is this soft boy looking down at him and what did he do with sly heartbreaker Kim Seokjin?
Jin thinks he’s beautiful?
Jin not only thinks he’s beautiful, he’s looking down at him right now as if he’s the most beautiful thing Jin’s ever seen, as if he’s overwhelmed and physically hurt simply by the vision of Namjoon?
And Namjoon’s mind – his mind goes into hyperdrive, all the wires get crossed, all of his feelings bubble up to the surface all at once. His body’s feeling so so good, he’s about to cum, but also Jin thinks he’s beautiful? Jin has those types of feelings when he looks at him? And he’s making him feel so good? And Jin is so beautiful and Namjoon just wants to look at him and touch him and tell him about more dumb Waluigi shit, and all the other dumb things in his head and he wants to listen to all of Jin’s dumb stupid jokes forever, and pry Jin open and treasure all the hidden secrets he might find inside. He wants to hold his hand and kiss him, kiss his pretty crooked hand, and let Jin ruin all the expensive shirts that might ever come into his possession. And also, at this very moment, he’s so close to having an actual orgasm and it’s all so overwhelming and, oh god, he’s about to cry, he can feel it coming at him like a freight train. He is definitely 100% about to cry and there is nothing he can do about it.
Just then Jin decides he’s ready to start thrusting again, same brutal pace as he set before the intermission, and it’s too late; Namjoon can do nothing to stop anything that’s about to happen. There’s nothing he can do at this point to avoid complete and utter embarrassment.
And just as his eyes well up and fat tears start rolling down his cheeks, Jin says “ah fuck, I’m so close” and wraps his right hand around Namjoon’s dick, thumb rubbing at the shiny, red, precum-slicked head.
And Namjoon loses it. He comes with a loud wail, in thick spurts across his stomach and chest, legs falling down to the sides as he loses grip on them. The orgasm rolls through him like a devastating wave, uprooting all the feelings he’s been consumed by for the past couple of months; the anxiety, the fear, the want, the excitement, giddiness and hope overshadowed by crippling doubt. And, as his body goes lax, all the feelings seems to transmute into water and flow out of him through his eye-holes.
Somewhere in what currently feels like the distance, he registers Jin, still inside of him, coming with a loud groan as Namjoon clenches around him, Jin’s eyes slammed shut.
“Oh fuck – that was – fuck!” Jin opens his eyes slowly, panting hard. He’s looking Namjoon right in the face, and it takes a second in the dim light, but his expression turns into something a little confused as he reaches to touch Namjoon’s face, like he’s unsure of what he’s seeing.
Namjoon, resigned to his fate of doom and humiliation, just lays there, breathing all weird, arms splayed out around his head, fists clenched.
Jin looks at his hand, lifting it closer to his face and rubbing his fingers together, wetness from Namjoon’s cheek sticking to them. His expression turns from mild confusion to alarm.
“Wait – are you – are you crying??”
Fucking murder me right now, Namjoon thinks. A pathetic whine escapes his lips as he tries desperately to hold back.
Jin is full-on freaking out now.
“Namjoon, oh my god, oh my god, what’s wrong?? Did I hurt you?? I swear to god I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so sorry. Namjoon please talk to me, I’m so sorry Joon!”
“No! Fuck. ” Namjoon finally has the wherewithal to cover his face with his hands. I can’t believe this is happening to me, he thinks, mortified. “I’m cool! It’s cool,” he chokes out, voice getting all high and weird because, crying.
“Namjoon, why are you crying, please–” Jin sounds like he might be about to cry himself.
“I uh...” oh fucking goddamnit “you didn’t hurt me, like at all – that felt, like, really fucking good,” he takes a ragged breath. “It’s just… that thing you said to me”
Jin looks lost, racking his brain for what he might’ve said that hurt Namjoon, unintentionally.
“The thing you said to me before – it was,” Namjoon’s voice breaks and it’s all squeaky now “it was so sweet.”
Jin still looks lost for a second before it slowly seems to dawn on him–
“You’re… you’re crying because I called you beautiful…?”
Oh god. This is the end for him. He’s so fucking lame. Jin’s never going to want to see him again. Namjoon loses the ability to cry quietly and he’s full on sobbing now, whole body trembling, snot running out his nose as he throws both elbows over his face.
Jin goes into a mild panic before his brain seems to catch up with him to figure out what he should do next.
“Wait – it’s okay!” He leans down and kisses Namjoons chest, the point of his elbow, “it’s okay, wait here! Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back!”
Jin scrambles to get up, almost trips over the threshold as he jogs into the kitchen, turns on the faucet. He comes back shortly with a tall glass of water, a hand towel a box of tissues, and a bag of fried-egg gummy candies, and sets the goods down on his nightstand.
Namjoon’s managed to calm down just a little bit in the meantime, but the tears are still flowing, and he’s sniffling.
“Here, is this okay?” Jin proceeds to carefully wipe the cum off of Namjoon’s chest and stomach, making sure nothing gets on the shirt. Namjoon nods into the crooks of his elbows, and Jin pulls his comforter up over Namjoon’s lap.
“I got you some tissues – these have aloe vera in them!”
Namjoon huffs a big breath, something maybe distantly related to a laugh, and removes one arm from his face to grab for a tissue. He lets out a long shaky sigh and scoots up, sitting up to blow his nose.
“Ugghhh. Sorry I’m so disgusting.”
“Hey,” Jin squeezes his shoulder “don’t you dare call the guy I just came in disgusting!”
Namjoon shakes his head, a quirk on his lips, takes another tissue to wipe his face, then letting his hands fall to his lap and looking down at them, sullen.
“Hey...” Jin says softly, hand on Namjoon’s cheek now, trying to look into his face, still full of concern. “You should drink some water. Water’s good for your body.”
Namjoon takes the glass of water, and gulps down over half of it before setting it back on the nightstand.
“Also… I dunno, eating always makes me feel better. And candy’s like… one of the most universally enjoyable things? So, just if you want–” Jin looks at the bag of gummies, back to Namjoon, then back to the gummies – “fuckit, I’m having some.”
Jin opens the bag of fried egg gummies and pops one in his mouth. A comically satisfied “hmmm!” emerges from his chest as he bites down.
Namjoon lets out a wet chuckle and takes a gummy. He’s still staring down into his lap.
“So,” Jin looks utterly lost and scrambling, “...you don’t need to tell me why you were crying, if you don’t want to. And – I’m probably bad at this. But if there's anything I can do to make you feel better, then I’d like to... do that thing? If you want?”
Namjoon wipes a hand down his face, stretching his face down a little, and heaves another sigh. “No, really, it’s nothing. I’m just… god I’m so fucking lame.”
“No! Namjoon. Not true. Not allowed. I’m calling the cops if you try to lie to me about being lame again.”
“Better call a fuckin’ deep web hitman on me,” Namjoon mumbles.
Jin looks daggers at him.
“Okay fuck sorry, I’ll stop. It’s just… I really just cry at everything. Like, I don’t actually, but I could.” Namjoon sniffles a bit, while Jin scoots up next to him on the bed and throws an arm around his shoulders.
“Like… it’s not like I’ll be having a rap battle on stage and start crying when someone calls me an assless try-hard or something.”
Jin tries and fails to bite back a smile.
“It’s more like, I cry at all movies, at music that has any type of emotional effect on me, over the randomest things on TV… I cried over a fucking granola bar commercial once because the lady just seemed so peaceful and happy, hiking in beautiful nature with her stupid granola bar!”
Jin lets out the most minute of chuckles and squeezes Namjoon's shoulder.
“And sometimes I’ll just be minding my own business like, having a cup of tea at my apartment, or riding my bike down by the river or whatever, when I start thinking about like, how sad it is that some kids are chronically ill and have to spend so much of their childhood in hospitals, and how unfair it is that they don’t get to do normal kid stuff like healthy kids, and I’ll just start… bawling.“
Jin gives him a peck on the shoulder.
“And sometimes… fuck. Sometimes I’ll be, you know, yeah, literally having an orgasm, and it’s like it breaks this seal in my brain and all of my thoughts just overwhelm me, about how beautiful human intimacy is, or like, how crazy it is that two people find each other the way they do, and are able to connect on some level, or even how insane it is that we exist at all. Like, mixed with the physical sensations of sex, it’s just… a lot. And I know that’s so fucking… weird and uncool, and I’m usually better at controlling it, but you just caught me off-guard with… that thing you said. About me. And I fucking lost it. I’m sorry. This is really... I’m sorry I ruined it.”
“No, shush, you didn’t. And… I actually don’t think that sounds that weird. It sounds like it makes sense? About sex and emotions and stuff? Also, I’m just like, incredibly relieved that I didn’t hurt you, because I was really fucking scared for a second there.”
Jin looks down at his free hand. “Because like… I wanted to hurt you, a little bit?” He looks back at Namjoon, mildly panicked; “But, in like, the sexy way though! Because you’re so...” Jin swallows thickly, “like, one moment you’ll look at me like I’m the 8th wonder of the world, and the next moment you’ll just glare at me like… I don’t know, like I murdered your dog or something. And it's so frustrating because I really wanted you to like me, but I still couldn’t figure out how you feel about… you know,” he gestures vaguely between them, “this. I even asked Tae to scope it out for me and he was just like,” Jin deepens his voice a bit for the full effect, “No idea, hyung. He’s an odd one. And I felt like I had to be so fucking cool for you to like me, because you’re…” Jin looks at Namjoon again and just gestures at him, slightly frantic, eyes wide. “And I’m just like, an unusually good looking theater kid. I dunno.”
Namjoon’s eyes have been growing increasingly wider as he listened to Jin, still looking into his lap but not crying anymore. He sighs. “Well I’m sorry that I’m not… whatever you thought I was. I wish I was, like… like, this is not exactly the image I want people to have of me. Like; ‘Rap god Kim Namjoon spits fire on stage but is actually just desperate to get fucked in the ass by a dude who’s way out of his league. Cums all over himself and cries pathetically for like an hour when he gets called beautiful.’ ...But… yeah. I’m sorry I’m just… lame.”
Jin chuckles. “You’re really dumb for someone who’s so smart you know.”
Namoon just nods solemnly at his lap.
“You think I want some grill-adorned, gang-sign-throwing, emotionally unavailable fuckboy? You think that’s why I chased after you, Kim Namjoon?”
Namjoon just shrugs. He definitely feels stupid and not smart at all right now.
“You think I couldn’t get that type of ass if I tried? If that’s what I wanted I’d just fuckin... go after that. But it’s not. I went after you, Namjoon, because I like you. Because you’re fuckin… the smartest, most interesting, most beautiful dumbass that I’ve ever fucking met. Like, you’re so outspoken – you talk about shit, publicly, in your lyrics and in interviews and stuff, that most people, including me, are fucking terrified to talk about. And you care about shit, like, important shit. And you actually try to do stuff about it. It’s the coolest shit I’ve ever seen. And you know so much about… everything, you speak like, multiple languages, and sometimes you smile really big – like you do a smile that’s different from the smile you do in photos, and it’s like – your whole face is made of gold and it lights the entire room up, and it makes me want to die a little bit, but also suck your dick.”
Namjoon’s side-eyeing Jin now, eyebrows almost up to his hairline.
“You… like me?”
“Oh my GOD Kim Namjoon yes I fucking like you! Why’d you think I’d fucking, occupy literally all my free evenings with going to places where you might possibly be hanging out? Or trying to manipulate poor sweet Taehyung into arranging that we’d end up in the same room somehow? If I didn’t like you, do you really think I’d have fucking thrown myself at your lap that night before you first came home with me, after realizing that no amount of subtle flirting would ever get through your thick, beautiful skull?!”
Namjoon’s still wide eyed, but trying to bite back a smile now.
“I just thought you were... just really flirty. With everyone. That I was just convenient or something.”
“Convenient???” Jin’s starting to sound exasperated. “Do you! Think! That it’s convenient for me to throw all of my self respect in the garbage, to literally go running down the street chasing after you, after you barely looked at me all night?? Damnit Joon I was willing to risk being a loser weirdo street harasser just because I had a tiny hunch that it might still work out. Because, I get to see you be all tough and strong and wildly intelligent and refusing to take bullshit, the Joon everyone gets to see, but then I also get to take you home and see you… like this,” Jin fumbles a bit, “not! Not that I wanted to make you cry, at all, I just wanna like, kiss you and touch you, and see you get all vulnerable and take you apart. And that, to me, is worth risking public humiliation. Which I don’t take lightly. But that’s how fucking fat my crush is for you. My heart boner. And also my literal boner. For your dumb ass.”
Namjoon’s smiling shyly, but then his lip starts quivering and the waterworks come on again.
“Oh no! No I’m sorry please don’t cry! Or, do, it’s okay, you can really cry as much as you need, but I’m sorry that I called your ass dumb!”
Namjoon manages to smile through the tears, working hard to control his voice when he says, “No,” *sniff* “it’s okay,” *sniff* “I just,” *sniff* “also have a really big crush on you and I’m just,” *sniff* “really happy.” *sniff*
Jin wraps himself over Namjoon then, straddling his lap, plopping a number of loud kisses on his wet face.
“This is a thing then,” Jin says with smiley enthusiasm, “yeah? We can both stop trying to be cool and I can like, get your phone number and significantly reduce my detective workload? I can just like, call you to hang out with me whenever, even during the day? And we can do dumb shit like I dunno, go to brunch? But also more… nude activities??”
Namjoon’s just about got his tears under control again, shy smile widening and cheeks reddening while he gazes up at Jin. Jin shifts a little on top of him.
“Namjoon… do you have a boner again?? Not that I have a problem with that at all but, am I like…? Is it okay for me to get turned on when your boner is poking me in the butt but I’m also looking at you crying? Or is that really creepy?”
Namjoon slaps Jin weakly on the arm and giggles . “Yeah, No, I’m uh, pretty sure that that’s a thing that some people are into. It’s not that weird, you're good. Pretty common, the sexy crying thing. At least that’s what I’ve concluded from browsing porn. … Not that I look at porn all the time! I just like… browsing...”
Jin cocks an eyebrow. “Sure you do big boy.” He trails his fingers down Namjoon’s cheeks, down his neck and rests them on his chest. “So uhm…” he hesitates, “am I… the only one though? Who gets to see you… like this?”
Namjoon looks Jin in the face and registers that Jin looks a bit terrified after his last question, like it took some courage for him to ask, like, maybe, he thinks he went too far. And Namjoon wants to start crying again, out of happiness. But he’s not gonna! Please Jesus and Buddha give me strength, Jin’s seen enough of that.
Namjoon takes a deep breath. “Hah. Yeah. Yup. Just you. Since… the first time. I couldn’t even think about other dudes if I tried. And I tried really hard. Not that–! I mean, I only tried because I thought you were out of my league.”
Jin smiles and flicks him on the nose.
“And um,” Namjoon clears his throat, “you?”
“Yeah dumbass, you’re the only one I’ve been seeing. The only one I wanna be seeing. I’m a rising star, how would I have time to pursue multiple slippery noodles?”
Namjoon just smiles with his whole face, his heart feels all warm and big, he’s so happy but also so exhausted from crying, and the sun’s gonna come up soon, but also he’s horny again, somehow? But also he wants to just stay up forever talking to Jin, for the rest of this night and the next night and then a lot more nights after that.
“What do you,” Jin giggles,
“...what do you call a fake noodle?”
Namjoon blinks. “Uhhhh… I don’t know. What?”
“An,” Jin’s really struggling to keep it together for this, “an impasta!”
He just barely manages to blurt that out before he crumples down onto Namjoon’s chest, convulsing with laughter.
And Namjoon laughs too, with his whole body, not because of the joke so much as just because Jin’s laughing, and it’s a dumb adorable laugh, and Jin’s sitting on top of him, and he just told him a dumb joke, and they have a crush on each other.