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Taehyung was sure Yoongi was cheating on him.

He never thought it was possible. Yoongi didn’t seem like the type, from the moment Taehyung met him, three years ago, he knew Yoongi was too kind to ever do anything like that. He’d always been aggressively loyal (unless it came to board games - those, in Yoongi’s opinion, had only one rule: every man for himself), so it never even occurred to Taehyung to entertain the possibility.

And yet.

It all started with a shopping bag he found stuffed into the corner of their wardrobe. Normally he wouldn’t think much of it, both of them often treated their wardrobe as an extra storage space and would shove things they didn’t need at the moment into it. But what caught Taehyung’s attention was that the bag didn’t look like it was just tossed inside for the sake of keeping it somewhere, it looked carefully hidden. He did the only thing that seemed reasonable to him - he took out the bag and opened it. From the moment his fingers touched the damn thing, he knew something expensive was placed inside. It was clear from the elegant but minimalistic logo, which Taehyung didn’t recognize at first. It was only when he peeked inside and felt the ground sway beneath his feet, that he realized.


There was a bag with lingerie inside his wardrobe.

He carefully took it out of the bag to get a better look. It was a pink bodysuit made of delicate lace, with subtle floral patterns and even if there wasn’t a price tag still attached to the shoulder strap, Taehyung simply knew it was anything but cheap. He had no idea how long he stayed like this, staring at the lingerie, his mind blank, until he finally pulled himself together and carefully put it away back into the wardrobe.

His optimistic nature kicked in almost immediately, his brain coming up with different explanations, but when a few days later he checked the wardrobe again and saw that the bag was gone, his heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. He started watching Yoongi more attentively, but his boyfriend showed no signs of acting any different than what Taehyung was used to. Nothing was different and yet everything was, but Taehyung was too terrified to ask Yoongi about the lingerie. Deep down, he was scared of hearing his answer. A part of him didn’t want to know the truth but he needed to talk about this with someone, so when he and Yoongi made plans to see their friends that Friday evening, he asked his best friend to meet him a little early.

“I think Yoongi is cheating on me.”

Jimin spat his beer back into his glass, choking and wheezing. He looked up at Taehyung with wide eyes, his mouth falling open.

“What did you say?”

“I think my boyfriend is cheating on me,” Taehyung said, twirling his straw between his fingers.

The pub was already filled with people but they managed to get one of the booths in the corner, away from the noise. Yoongi and the rest of their friends were already on their way, so Taehyung, knowing he doesn’t have much time, decided not to beat around the bush.

“How do you— how do you know?”

“There was a bag with lingerie in our wardrobe, I found it by accident. And now it’s gone.” he shrugged, avoiding looking Jimin in the eye. “I added two and two together.”

Jimin stayed silent for a while, clearly taken aback by the news.

“Maybe it was a gift…?”

“Nah,” Taehyung said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Y— he,” he corrected himself immediately; saying Yoongi’s name might just bring him to tears. “He loves his friends but you know he’d never buy something that intimate for them.”

“Oh, Tae,” Jimin sighed, reaching out to touch Taehyung’s hand. He quickly pulled back when he noticed Yoongi approaching their table, but not before whispering: “You should talk to him.”


Four drinks later is when Taehyung decides to take his friend’s advice.

Everyone is on the verge of being tipsy. Namjoon and Hoseok are debating something in hushed voices, Seokjin, Yoongi, Jungkook and Jimin are waiting by the bar for their drinks and Taehyung, being one of the main lightweights, finally has enough liquid courage in him to confront Yoongi. The idea alone still makes his heart hammer in his chest but maybe that’s good, maybe he’ll be too nervous to cause a scene in public. At least that’s what he hopes for.

He waits until Yoongi gets back, balancing a colorful drink in his hand, before asking him in a whisper to walk outside with him for a second. Yoongi gives him a funny look but obediently follows and when they’re out on the street, Taehyung’s calm facade breaks.

“I know… I know about the lingerie,” he hiccups, shoving his finger into Yoongi’s chest.

Yoongi frowns at him, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“What are you— oh.”

The way Yoongi’s cheeks turn bright red would be enough confirmation even without the look of guilt appearing on his face.

“Yeah! So, like, if you want to sleep with other people, we have to break up because I can’t deal with that, I don’t want to—“


“I don’t want you seeing other people!” Taehyung flails his hands. “I didn’t sign up for that! And I’m a goddamn catch, really, I love giving blowjobs and I’m willing to try anything once and—“

Yoongi cuts him off, his eyebrows drawn together again. “Tae, I’m not following.”

Taehyung huffs with frustration and lifts his hand, his fingers splayed out. He puts them down, one after another as he lists all the things he discovered in the past week:

“You bought lingerie. You bought expensive lingerie. I found it in the— the goddamn darkest corner of our wardrobe. You kept it a secret and now it’s gone and— and I saw it, it’s not a funny, naughty gift you can buy a friend and—“

“You… you think I’m cheating on you?”

“Well…” Taehyung hesitates for a fraction of a second and then whispers: “Yeah.”

Yoongi’s expression softens. He sighs, looking at Taehyung with strange fondness in his eyes.

“Oh, you big, silly—“ he reaches out, trying to touch him, but Taehyung takes a step back and Yoongi’s hand closes on nothing. “I’m not cheating on you.”

Taehyung blinks at him slowly. This is not what he expected to hear.

“You’re not?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Of course not! I love you, you dumbass,” he adds as an afterthought but it’s spoken so softly Taehyung lets it slide. “and you know I’d never do anything like that to you.”

“But… then…”

“I can promise you that lingerie never switched owners.”

“I don’t—“ Taehyung pauses with a small shake of his head. “Yoongi, I don’t get it,” he whines, pouting at him. He’s had way too many drinks to understand what his (perhaps not cheating) boyfriend is trying to tell him.

“Do you have your phone with you?”


“Good. Keep an eye on the screen, then,” Yoongi throws over his shoulder, opening the door and heading towards the bathroom.

Taehyung walks back to their booth, frowning at his feet. Why does he need his phone? Is Yoongi going to break up with him through a text? Is he too scared to do it face to face? He pulls out his phone and clings onto it as he slides into the booth. He can sense Jimin sending him a concerned look, but he’s still too confused to tear his eyes away from the screen.

It feels like forever has passed before his phone buzzes in his hand.

He immediately unlocks it and opens the message. There’s no text, Yoongi only sent him a short video, so Taehyung throws a quick glance around the table and when he’s confident no one is paying attention to him, he presses play.

The video is so dark he has to strain his eyes to make out the grainy shapes. Suddenly the view shifts and Taehyung sees Yoongi’s face, only barely visible in the dimmed light. The camera shifts again and now Taehyung is looking at the view he’s very familiar with; the zipper of Yoongi’s jeans and the bottom of his t-shirt. He watches as Yoongi’s hand appears on his screen, tendons protruding as he unbuckles his belt.

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry.

Yoongi pops the button of his jeans and undoes his fly, opening it with his fingers, and for a fraction of a second Taehyung thinks he’s not wearing anything underneath. It soon becomes obvious he’s wrong about that. So very, very wrong.

Yoongi pulls his t-shirt up to his chest and turns a little, searching for a better source of light. He finally finds it and Taehyung sucks a sharp breath through his teeth. Yoongi is wearing lingerie. And not just any lingerie, he’s wearing the bodysuit Taehyung had found in their closet. He can see the sliver of pink lace stretched across Yoongi’s stomach and the contrast between the flimsy fabric and Yoongi’s veiny hand makes him swallow a whimper.

“Tae? You okay?”

He quickly locks his phone and puts his hand down, only now realizing he must’ve slapped it over his mouth at some point.

He makes what he hopes can pass for an affirmative sound in the back of his throat, glancing up at Jimin, who’s watching him carefully over the table.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, high-pitched and breathless. He shifts in his chair, feeling a familiar heat pooling in his groin whenever an image of Yoongi’s body flashes through his mind. “I… I need to use the bathroom.”

He gets up and without another word nearly jogs to the bathroom. All stalls but one are unoccupied, so he takes a deep breath and allows his feet to take him to the last one in the row.

He opens the stall, pulling the handle so hard he almost hits himself in the face. Yoongi is standing in front of him, backed into the corner, staring at him with wide eyes. Taehyung quickly squeezes himself into the stall and kicks the door shut, his hands flying to rest on Yoongi’s waist. He’s not sure if it’s not only his imagination, but he thinks he can feel the pattern of the bodysuit underneath Yoongi’s t-shirt.

“Can I see?” he whispers, already getting on his knees (the thought that kneeling on a pub’s bathroom floor must be in the top ten most disgusting things he could possibly do flashes through his mind and disappears like a shooting star) and shuffling closer, running his fingers over the hem of Yoongi’s t-shirt, waiting for permission.

Yoongi doesn’t make a single sound. Instead, he slowly places his hand over Taehyung’s and lifts the front of his t-shirt, his eyes closed, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Oh god,” Taehyung whispers, staring at the lace covering Yoongi’s skin. “Oh my god.”

“D’you like it?”

The tone of Yoongi’s voice finally forces Taehyung to tear his gaze away from the delicate flower details and to look up. Yoongi’s avoiding his eyes, his cheeks are dusted pink and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, clearly worried about Taehyung’s reaction.

“I’m— I—“

“It’s okay if you don’t, I just like the way it feels, I don’t have to wear it in front of—“

“You’re so beautiful. Jesus, Yoongi, baby,” he growls, letting his head fall forward, his forehead pressed against Yoongi’s hipbone. He feels the way Yoongi trembles when the exhale ghosts over his skin. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, you have no idea how wild you drive me.”

“So you like it?” Yoongi asks again but this time his voice is steadier, lower, Taehyung’s favorite sign that his boyfriend is feeling more confident.

“I love it,” he promises. “Love you. Can we… do you think we could ditch everyone and go home?”

“Oh?” Yoongi grins at him, gummy and cocky. “You’re not in the mood to party anymore?”

“No.” Taehyung shakes his head and gets up, keeping his hands on Yoongi’s hips. He leans forward, towering over his boyfriend, caging him against the wall. “I’m in the mood to get you home, lay you down on our bed and make you come at least three times tonight.”

He’s so close that he feels, more than hears, Yoongi’s breath hitching in his throat. Yoongi quickly recovers, humming like he was considering Taehyung’s offer.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” he says, turning his head and lifting it so that their faces are millimeters apart.

“Really? Can I help you make up your mind?” Taehyung asks, allowing his hand to move down Yoongi’s chest, over his abdomen to slip into his jeans and cup him. The lace feels so soft underneath his fingers, contrasting with the half hardness of Yoongi’s cock. He bends over, supporting his weight by propping his forearm against the wall just above Yoongi’s head, and keeps touching him, teasing the head of his cock with his thumb. He’s dizzy again, drunk on the little gasps spilling out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“So? Shall we go?”

“You’re— I’m gonna ruin my underwear if you keep doing that,” Yoongi whispers, his eyes closed.

“Oh, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. “I’m gonna buy you tons more, I promise. I’m gonna make you wear them whenever we go out and when we get back I’m gonna rip them off of you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Gonna fuck you silly, sweetheart. I promise.”

That seems to finally do the trick. Yoongi’s eyes snap open and he says:

“Bring me my bag and give me ten minutes.”

Taehyung walks back to their table, nearly bumping into two other tables on his way and tripping over someone’s backpack left carelessly on the floor. The image of Yoongi in lingerie is burned into his mind and he has to keep digging his fingernails into his palms to stop feeling lightheaded.

When Yoongi joins them some time later, his face is a little more flushed than it was before and Taehyung tries really hard not to think about what that could mean. He has an idea, but thinking about it could lead to a reaction that would end up in getting him banned from the pub forever, so he quickly says his goodbyes to everyone and pulls Yoongi outside.

He doesn’t miss the smirk Jimin sends him.




The second they’re through the door of their apartment, Taehyung grabs Yoongi’s thighs, just below his ass, and yanks him closer. Yoongi gasps, clutching onto his boyfriend’s biceps, but the sound is muffled by Taehyung’s lips hungrily pressing against his. He feels himself being lifted off the floor and carried, and when his back hits the wall he realizes Taehyung just dropped him off at the top of the shoe cabinet in their hallway. Something is digging painfully into his hip but he forgets all about it when Taehyung shoves him harder against the wall, pinning his wrists above his head. He pushes himself between Yoongi’s thighs, forcing him to open his legs as wide as his body lets him, never once breaking the kiss.

Yoongi loves it. He loves how small and delicate Taehyung makes him feel, how tiny he is when he’s in Taehyung’s arms. But what he loves even more is knowing that he has Taehyung, this big, tall, gorgeous man, wrapped around his finger. It makes him feel safe and loved and— if he’s being completely honest— it makes him really fucking hard.

Taehyung never really enjoyed working out but when Jeongguk got a job at a local gym and offered him a discount, Taehyung decided to give it a try. Yoongi remembers that he came back home sore and complaining, but he knew Jeongguk was so happy being able to be Taehyung’s personal trainer that he kept coming back. Yoongi is really fucking lucky his boyfriend loves his friends more than he hates exercising. He claimed it was for Taehyung’s health but the truth was he was cheering him on for selfish reasons too. Ever since he joined the gym Taehyung got bigger, stronger, and maybe he wasn’t as ripped as Jeongguk, and maybe Yoongi loved him just as much as when his only workout was walking their dogs, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Taehyung being able to manhandle him however he pleased was his wet dream come true.

“God, Yoongi,” Taehyung mumbles against his mouth, lifting him off the cabinet and carrying him into their bedroom. “You’re so gorgeous, how did I get so lucky?”

“You have your… strengths.” Yoongi laughs, grabbing Taehyung’s ass and giving it a squeeze.

“You’re horrible,” Taehyung announces, carefully placing him on the bed. Yoongi watches as he pulls off his clothes with no finesse whatsoever and sits down next to him, tilting his head as he always does when he wants to ask for something. And sure enough, when he raises his eyebrows at him, Taehyung whispers:

“Strip,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Strip for me.”

Yoongi’s first instinct is to laugh. The request sounds ridiculous, he doesn’t know the first thing about doing a striptease and he knows, he just knows, he’s going to look stupid. But the look on Taehyung’s face…

“Okay,” he breathes out. He jumps to his feet and quickly toes off his socks before making his way to the middle of the room.

He’s still in his clothes but with the way Taehyung is looking at him, he feels like he could just as well be naked. He takes a deep breath and tries to remember the few dance moves Hoseok had taught him a few months ago for shits and giggles. He starts with his t-shirt, playing with the hem, lifting it slightly to tease Taehyung before pulling it over his head and letting it fall to the floor.

Taehyung’s reaction is everything he hoped for. He groans, his cock twitching as his eyes roam over Yoongi’s chest.

Yoongi tugs on his choker, throwing back his head. When he lets it fall forward, his eyes never leaving Taehyung’s, he starts rolling his hips, imagining himself in Taehyung’s lap, riding him. Taehyung must be thinking about that too because he sucks a breath through his teeth, his hips bucking up.

He feels a wave of giddiness when he realizes Taehyung is in for a surprise; after all, he didn’t get to see his entire outfit.

Yoongi allows his hands to roam all over his own body, hissing softly when his thumb brushes over his nipple, and unbuckles his belt. He undoes the button of his jeans and bends down, pulling them over his legs, letting them pool at his feet. He straightens up, giving Taehyung a better view, and feels a tremble sweep his body when Taehyung flinches, a string of profanities falling from his lips.    

Yoongi smirks at him as he hooks his thumb over the band of his matching pink thigh-highs and pulls, the fabric snapping back against his skin when he lets go. Taehyung looks like he’s about to pounce on him and he doesn’t have the heart to tease him any longer, so he beckons him closer with a quick motion of his hand.

“On your knees.”

Normally, Taehyung would raise his eyebrows and ask him something along the lines of “you’re giving me orders now, baby?” but now he immediately slides off the edge of the bed, staring at Yoongi obediently even as his knees hit the floor with a dull thud.

Yoongi takes a step back, shaking his head when Taehyung reaches out to touch him.

“Hands behind your back,” he clicks his tongue.

Taehyung obeys, clasping his hands together, watching with his mouth slightly open as Yoongi circles him and stops in front of him, just the tiniest bit out of reach.

“Wanna touch me? Better earn it,” he says when Taehyung answers with a nod.

“H-how?” He clears his throat when his voice comes out strained. “How do I earn it?”

“Convince me,” Yoongi says, running his fingers through Taehyung’s hair and pulling his head back. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

Taehyung’s expression changes. The dumbfounded, starry eyed look disappears from his face, giving way to something else, something dark that makes the heat in Yoongi’s abdomen flare up.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, sweetheart. I want to fuck you, raw and deep, just how you like it. Because you do like it, don’t you, baby? Being stuffed full of my cock, being claimed.”

Yoongi swallows thickly, his knees suddenly wobbly. God, sometimes he thinks Taehyung’s mouth might just be his favorite part of him.

Which doesn’t mean he can’t crank Taehyung’s volume up a little more.

“Gosh, Tae,” he sighs, hoping that Taehyung doesn’t notice his smirk. “You talk an awfully big game.”

“Oh? Think I’m not up for it?”

“Think you might not be able to walk the walk, ‘s all I’m saying.”

“Adorable,” Taehyung says. Yoongi’s ears are so tuned in when it comes to his voice that he can tell, even though Taehyung is trying to sound unbothered, he’s anything but.

Taehyung is, bless his heart, nearly as competitive as Yoongi, and given the right circumstances, he even outdoes his boyfriend. It doesn’t happen too often, he’s usually happy to simply be a part of something, but when it does… God, when it does.

He gets up, sits on the edge of the bed and yanks Yoongi closer, undoing the snap of the bodysuit and pushing it up his body to free his cock. He reaches around, his fingers brushing against the plug Yoongi has stretched himself with in the pub, and smirks at him with satisfaction before pulling his boyfriend down until his thigh is between Yoongi’s legs.

Yoongi nearly starts drooling. If Taehyung’s mouth is his favorite part of his boyfriend’s body, his thighs are a close second. They’re not as muscular as Jeongguk’s or Jimin’s, but they’re thick enough to make Yoongi’s mind wander whenever Taehyung decides to wear something more revealing.

His body reacts instinctively, his hips rolling forward, searching for friction as he throws his arms around Taehyung’s neck. It doesn’t take long before he’s already on the edge, rolling his hips faster as Taehyung fucks him with the plug, whispering obscenities into his ear.

Truth be told, there’s something about having Taehyung watch him fall apart like that, getting himself off using his thigh, that makes the whole thing ten times hotter. Maybe because it’s just the right amount of humiliating, maybe it’s because Yoongi has to work for it, has to let go and become truly desperate while Taehyung simply lets him. In any case, riding Taehyung’s thigh is his weakness and Taehyung knows it all too well.

“God, just look at you,” Taehyung murmurs, pulling the plug nearly all the way out before pushing it in again. “Humping my leg like a horny little bitch, so desperate to feel good.”

Yoongi whines, burying his face in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, inhaling the familiar smell of Taehyung’s skin and his sandalwood cologne. He can feel Taehyung’s pulse, steady and reassuring, on his lips.

“Tae, I’m— I’m close—“ he moans but as soon as the words leave his mouth, Taehyung grabs his hips, stilling him, and lifts him off his thigh.

“No,” he says simply when Yoongi starts whining, his cock throbbing almost painfully, the sudden lack of friction leaving him with tears in his eyes.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and reaches down to swipe his thumb over the streaks of precum smeared across his thigh.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, lifting his thumb to Yoongi’s lips. “Filthy.”

Yoongi opens his mouth and sucks on Taehyung’s finger, his tongue swirling around the digit. Taehyung’s eyes are focused on his lips so he makes sure to lick them after letting go of Taehyung’s thumb with a wet pop.

Taehyung put his hand on his chest and pushes him onto the bed, Yoongi letting a small oomph when his back hits the mattress. The plug is still inside his ass so it’s not the most comfortable position (it’s still better than having to keep it inside during the ride home), but he quickly forgets all about it when Taehyung straddles his hips, his hands on Yoongi’s chest.

“Spread your legs.”

“No,” Yoongi barks back. Taehyung’s attitude changes immediately; he leans back with a worried expression, taking his hands off Yoongi’s body like touching it burnt him, his eyes searching Yoongi’s face.

“Are you okay? What’s your color?” he asks, keeping a careful distance from Yoongi, hovering over him but not touching.

“Green, Tae,” Yoongi says. “I’m okay, I promise. I want this, I want you to… be rough. You know me,” he adds when Taehyung opens his mouth to speak, still not completely convinced. “I’ll use the safe word if anything feels wrong.”

“Okay,” Taehyung whispers and then shakes his head a little like he was trying to get into character again.

“Do I have to tie you up?”

Yoongi considers it for a second and then shakes his head.

“Can’t handle me otherwise?” he asks, smirking up at his boyfriend.

Taehyung groans. “You’re such a pain tonight, huh?” he grabs a fistful of Yoongi’s hair, pulling until Yoongi climbs up onto his knees with a hiss.

“Turn around.”

Yoongi is more than happy to oblige, scrambling to get onto his hands and knees as soon as Taehyung lets go of his hair.

Taehyung positions himself behind him, grabbing Yoongi’s asscheeks and spreading, kneading them in his hands. Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed, his breath catching in his throat when he feels the plug being pulled out of him and Taehyung’s thumb slipping to brush over his asshole. His cock is already leaking, beads of precum dripping onto the mattress underneath him, Taehyung’s touch setting his entire body on fire.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” Taehyung sighs, rubbing his thumb over Yoongi’s hole.

“Do you plan on getting your dick inside me any time this century or—“ Yoongi lets out a gasp when Taehyung slaps his ass, the impact pushing him up the bed.

“Not until you beg for it,” Taehyung says, rubbing his cheek, admiring how pink Yoongi’s skin became. Yoongi snorts, trying not to sound affected by the very idea.

“I’m not begging you.”

Taehyung chuckles, pushing the tip of his thumb into Yoongi’s ass.

“Oh, you will. Because that’s what you want, what you’re good for, isn’t it?”

“F-fuck you,” Yoongi spits, risking a glance over his shoulder. Taehyung stops admiring the way Yoongi’s hole flutters around his thumb when he realizes he’s being watched and looks up at Yoongi, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Don’t think so.”

He winks at him and dives down, his tongue, hot and wet, pushing past the ring of muscle so suddenly Yoongi chokes on his spit. Taehyung knows perfectly well what he’s doing, his tongue always drives Yoongi mad, reducing him to an incoherent mess. Yoongi claws at the sheets twisted beneath his hands, his head lolling forward. He can’t focus, he can’t think— all he wants is for Taehyung to push his tongue deeper, to fuck him with it until he cries. But Taehyung, the goddamn tease that he is, pulls back, pressing his mouth around Yoongi’s hole and sucking, the tip of his tongue flickering against Yoongi’s rim.

Yoongi tries pushing his hips back, grinding them against Taehyung’s face, but Taehyung doesn’t let him, smacking his ass and growling in a warning.


“Ready to beg now?” he asks, sticking his tongue out and licking a wet stripe over his hole.

“Fuck, I— please.”

Taehyung straightens up and hunches himself over Yoongi’s back to whisper into his ear:

“Not good enough.”

Yoongi turns his head, his face so close to Taehyung’s that he can feel their exhales mingling together.

“Please, please, I want you, need you,” he whimpers, his voice breaking. “Want you to use me, want you to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, want you to come inside my ass and fill me up.” he presses a soft kiss to the corner of Taehyung’s mouth. “Want you to make me yours.”

A rumble escapes from deep inside Taehyung’s chest.

“Oh, baby,” he purrs, nuzzling his nose against the delicate skin behind Yoongi’s ear. “You are mine, aren’t you? My toy, a pretty little hole for me to use whenever, however I want.”


Taehyung delivers another sharp smack to his cheek and leans over to the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. They stopped using condoms a while ago, after getting checked, and Yoongi couldn’t be happier about that. Maybe it’s nasty, but he loves feeling Taehyung’s cum in his ass.

He looks over his shoulder, watching as Taehyung pours the lube into his palm and rubs his hands together, making sure to coat his fingers. He gives himself a few strokes and uncaps the bottle again to pour more lube over Yoongi’s asshole.

“You like it wet, don’t you?” he chuckles when Yoongi hisses at the strange, cold feeling, his body tensing up. “What’s your color?” he adds, shuffling closer to Yoongi on his knees until the tip of his cock is pressed against Yoongi’s hole.

“Green, fucking blinking neon— oh,” Yoongi trails off when Taehyung grips the base of his cock and guides the head towards Yoongi’s hole. Yoongi feels him push, his muscles stretching to allow Taehyung to slip inside.   

“It’s— It’s so big,” he chokes out, his hands twisting themselves into the sheets. Taehyung coos at him, stroking his hip with his thumb as he leans forward.

“Shh…” he noses apologetically at the back of Yoongi’s neck. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I—“ Yoongi hiccups, pushing his hips back, trying to get Taehyung to bury his cock deeper. “I love it.”

Taehyung laughs, sinking a little further. “Should’ve known. Such a size queen, no? Need something fat and thick to keep you happy.”

Yoongi nods, already half delirious. His hair is plastered to his forehead and his face is getting hotter with each second. He can feel Taehyung all around him, his strong thighs pressed against Yoongi’s, his hands keeping him in place. He tries to experimentally roll his hips, see if he can drive Taehyung’s cock deeper, but Taehyung’s grip is too strong. It’s gonna leave marks, he realizes, and the thought makes his cock throb.

Taehyung slowly, agonizingly slowly, bottoms out and Yoongi welcomes it with a moan. He feels so full, and even though the stretch should be uncomfortable, it’s everything but. He loves it, loves balancing on the thin line between pain and pleasure. His own cock is aching, bobbing heavily between his legs, but he knows better than to touch it without Taehyung’s permission. He’s way too frustrated for any punishment Taehyung could come up with.

“I think we should get you a few pairs of high heels too. I want to feel them scraping my back when I have your legs thrown over my shoulders and am eating you out,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly, tracing the patterns of the bodysuit between Yoongi’s shoulder blades with his finger. Yoongi nearly keens at the imagery.

“Please,” he chokes out. “Please—”

“Hmm? What do you want?” Taehyung’s voice is steady, a hint of mockery when he realizes how high-strung Yoongi already is.

“Fuck me, please, I need it.”

There are tears already pooling in his eyes, his eyelashes wet. It feels like he’s going to combust if Taehyung doesn’t move soon.

“My beautiful baby.” Taehyung thrusts into him, only once, but it’s all it takes for Yoongi to moan, his back arching.

“Yours, only yours,” he blabbers.

“That’s right,” Taehyung growls, snapping his hips forward, drawing another moan from Yoongi. “Only I can make you feel this way, huh, baby? Only I can make you cry and beg like the little slut you are. So fucking hungry for my cock.”

Yoongi nearly wails, Taehyung’s words going straight to his dick.

Taehyung pulls back, nearly all the way out before ramming his cock back inside, shoving Yoongi up the bed, his grip iron tight. He hauls Yoongi back to meet every thrust, slamming his cock so deep it hurts, but that’s exactly how Yoongi likes it.

“Oh, oh fuck, love it—“ he groans. “‘S so big, I’m so full—“

Taehyung shoves his face into the pillow, muffling his sobs while he continues pounding into him. His pace is brutal and the head of his cock is continuously pressing against Yoongi’s prostate to the point of being just shy of painful but fuck if Yoongi doesn’t love it. He turns his head to the side to breathe and feels a wet patch of drool under his cheek.

“Taking my cock so well,” Taehyung praises him in a strained voice. “So perfect, fuck.”

Yoongi closes his eyes, tightening around Taehyung and causing him to spit out more curses. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and Taehyung’s grunts fill the room and Yoongi is so dizzy with pleasure it takes him a few seconds before he realizes Taehyung is reaching around him, He nearly cries from relief when Taehyung’s fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts. It’s so overwhelming that he keens, sticking his ass up higher in the air, giving Taehyung’s hand more room.  

“Can I— Can I come, please, please—”

“Jesus,” Taehyung rasps, still fucking him like his life depended on it. “Can’t even hold it for me, fuck—”

He lets go of Yoongi’s cock and Yoongi sobs, tears finally spilling from his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he blabbers into his fist. “I’ll try—”

“No.” Taehyung grabs his cock again, and this time his hand is wetter; Yoongi realizes he was so loud he missed the moment Taehyung spat into his palm. “Come, wanna feel how tight you’ll get for me.”  

He starts pounding into him with renewed vigor and that, combined with his long fingers around Yoongi’s aching cock, is all Yoongi needs. He sinks his teeth into the pillow, trying to muffle the cry he lets out when he spills over Taehyung’s hand, a wave of pleasure sweeping over him, leaving his brain blank and limbs numb.

Taehyung doesn’t ease up on him, though. He pushes past the tightness, chasing his own orgasm, each thrust sending shivers through Yoongi’s entire body.

“I’m— I’m gonna come,” he growls.

Yoongi makes one last effort to lift himself on his elbows and look over his shoulder. Taehyung’s face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his hair pushed back, his eyes trained on Yoongi’s.

“Y-yeah,” Yoongi pants out. “ Want it, want it dripping out of me—“

“Shit,” Taehyung groans, speeding up even more, a sense of desperation taking over. “Take it, fuck, take it—”

He grabs Yoongi’s hips and hauls him back, his chest pressed flush against Yoongi’s back as he sinks his teeth into Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi feels his cock twitch inside him and tightens around it, wanting to drive Taehyung wild.

A low groan spills from Taehyung’s chest as he keeps fucking Yoongi through his orgasm, only letting go of him when his cock starts to soften. Yoongi slumps down, face first, into the pillows and Taehyung gently, carefully pulls out, leaving him whimpering from the emptiness.

“Jesus,” Taehyung mumbles in a rough voice, spreading Yoongi’s cheeks and watching his own cum dribble down the insides of his thighs. “Are you okay?”   

Yoongi laughs. He feels high and weightless, like he could start floating at any second, and there’s his boyfriend, worried about him. He rolls over, painfully aware of lying in a wet patch of his own cum and drool, but too numb to care.

“Yeah, Tae,” he says through giggles. “I’m peachy.”

Taehyung grins at him, wide and fond, and leans down to kiss his forehead.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Yoongi says, throwing his arms around his neck to stop him from moving away.

Taehyung rolls his eyes at him, but he doesn’t stop smiling.

“Well, if you told me about your kink earlier…” he trails off, rubbing at the tear in Yoongi’s bodysuit. “I, um, think we ruined it.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m pretty sure my knees are all… mattress-burned or something. It’s fine, though,” he adds after a second. “I have more.”

Taehyung’s head snaps up.


“You know how you can’t drive, so I’m the only person using our car? And, consequently, the only person using the glove compartment?”

“Oh, you’re horrible,” Taehyung groans, throwing himself onto the mattress next to Yoongi.

Yoongi hums happily, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He’s close to dozing off when he feels Taehyung’s finger moving up and down his cock.

“W-what are you doing?” he asks, his eyes flying open.

“Well,” Taehyung starts with a shit-eating grin. “I vividly remember telling you I want to make you come at least three times tonight…”

All Yoongi can do is groan.