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a different kind of danger

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The first guy that shows up to look at the apartment reeks of days old sweat and cheap beer. He asks if Yoongi can go cheaper.

"Sorry, no," Yoongi says. It's possibly the least apologetic he's ever been in his life. He has to open all the windows and spray air freshener before he can breathe deeply in his apartment again.

The next two are. Fine. One of them's working, an office job. The other guy is a student who guarantees his parents will send him enough money to pay rent. Yoongi writes down their contact details and promises to contact them when he makes his decision.

The fourth guy is a hybrid.

"Jeon Jungkook," he says, bowing just low enough to be respectful. When he stands back up, he's taller than Yoongi. His ears stick straight up; if Jungkook jumped, they'd probably brush the top of the door-frame.

"Min Yoongi," Yoongi replies, standing back and letting him in. "So this is the communal area. Lounge, television, kitchen over there." He points, but Jungkook doesn't follow his hand, choosing instead to slowly turn in a circle. Taking it all in.

"You play?" He interrupts, nodding towards the piano. His hands are jammed into the pockets of his ragged jeans. It rounds his shoulders, draws him down.

"I'm a composer," Yoongi explains. He steers the tour towards the second bedroom. "So this would be your room..." It's sparsely furnished: a bed, a rickety chair and a desk just large enough to balance a computer on, a small set of drawers. The curtain was hung up by the previous owner, before Yoongi moved in. It doesn't do all that much to block out the light.

Jungkook doesn't do any of the things the previous three applicants did. There's no questions about whether the furniture has to stay, or if they can bring their own. He doesn't ask Yoongi the building policy on late-night noise, or if guests can stay for days at a time, or if Yoongi can drop the rent a little in exchange for drugs. He just stares around the room, cataloguing every detail, before asking: "Can I move in today?"

"Um," Yoongi says. He glances at Jungkook: the way his collarbone sticks out above his dirty white t-shirt, the hunch of his back. The ears. "Sure, if you want."


Jungkook works clearing tables and washing dishes at a restaurant in a nearby neighbourhood. He's gone from three in the afternoon to ten at night, six days a week. It takes four and a half months of living together for Yoongi to admit to himself he misses Jungkook when he's gone.

He doesn't tell Jungkook this, obviously, but gradually Jungkook stops hiding in his room every moment that he's home. He'll sit on the lounge when Yoongi's watching television, or at the table eating his pre-shift meal while Yoongi's onto his third cup of coffee. They talk, a little, but mostly they sit in comfortable silence. Jungkook stops flinching every time Yoongi moves quickly, and Yoongi thinks he does a great job of not staring shamelessly when Jungkook comes out of the bathroom without a shirt on.

It all goes smoothly, until Yoongi gets home from drinking with Jimin.

"Heyyy, Kook-ah," he slurs out, almost tipping over as he attempts to remove his shoes. "Hyung's home, you don' have to worry now."

"I wasn't worried," Jungkook says softly, hovering near Yoongi as he tries to stand without the support of the wall. His ears are flicking back and forth and it’s so cute Yoongi almost forgets what he’s trying to do. "But maybe I should have been. It's not safe to walk around like this at night."

Yoongi waves a dismissive hand and nearly headbutts the floor before Jungkook saves him. "'s fine, Joonie brought us home." Jungkook doesn't let go when Yoongi's again upright, which lets Yoongi really appreciate the strength in his arms. "Wow, you must work out a lot, huh?" He strokes Jungkook's biceps for a while. Jungkook stands patiently and lets him. "Nice," Yoongi tells Jungkook, who looks torn between amusement and concern. "Really nice, good job."

"Thanks, hyung," Jungkook says carefully. "Should you— You should probably go to sleep, I think." He starts to gently tug Yoongi in the direction of his bedroom.

"No, wait," Yoongi whines, trying to dig his heels in. He's wearing socks, so all he does is slide on the wooden floor. "I wanna talk! Are you happy here, Kook-ah?" It comes out far more serious than Yoongi had thought he was capable of in his sodden state.

Jungkook looks more like a deer in headlights than a rabbit right now. "I'm... Of course, hyung. This way, come on." He keeps steering Yoongi towards his bed, implacable in his resolve.

"I want you to be happy here," Yoongi leans in and whispers. Jungkook smells good. Clean. Yoongi wants to lick the patch of skin above his shirt collar. Find out if he tastes just as good. It's the sort of thought Yoongi normally shoves right back down, but tonight— Tonight feels like the sort of night to let it out.

"Hyung," Jungkook says slowly. "Let's get you into bed."

Jungkook tips Yoongi into his bed. Yoongi clutches at his arm with desperate fingers. "Don't leave, please," he begs, tongue sloppy with alcohol but clear enough, he knows, for Jungkook to understand. Jungkook freezes, leaning over Yoongi's prone form. His ears are standing straight up.

"Hyung," he repeats, a little hoarse. "Please don’t." He stays still, not leaving, but not coming any closer. Yoongi stares at him for a moment. Tries to pull Jungkook in, but he won't budge.

"Fine," Yoongi bites out. Flinging Jungkook's arm away, he rolls over and buries himself in his pillow. He knows he's acting childish. It feels bad even as he does it, but Yoongi just wants, and now he can't have, so. He settles for this: Jungkook's quiet goodnight and retreating footsteps.


It's a little awkward the next day, but Yoongi pretends he has no memory of anything that happened and Jungkook seems to buy it. They continue to settle into their routine.

"You know what hybrids are for, right?" Jungkook says, out of the blue in November as he sits shovelling rice into his face and Yoongi sips coffee. Yoongi nods, of course, everyone does, and Jungkook continues. "My previous owner... he bought me for that. But..." He drops his face to his bowl, fingers white with how tight he's gripping the chopsticks. Yoongi leans forward, unsure how to offer comfort. "I didn't like...that. I didn't— don't like it that way." Jungkook's face lifts to pin Yoongi in place with his gaze. "He tried to make me like it. I fought him. Broke his arm. Lost my collar."

Yoongi's phone starts to buzz its way across the table. Jungkook looks away first and says, "You should get that. I'm gonna go to work." He's gone before Yoongi can point out he doesn't start for more than two hours. He answers the phone, Namjoon's name flashing on the screen.

"What is it?" Yoongi says, discarding pleasantries.

"Hey, hyung," Namjoon starts, forced cheer in his voice. "Um, are you busy?"

Yoongi asks, with no small amount of trepidation, "What do you need?"

Namjoon laughs a little nervously. "I may have tripped and broken a window?"


Yoongi fixes Namjoon and boards the window, before stopping off at the grocery store on his way home. He doesn't cook much beyond the essentials, but he still remembers what his parents taught him. The numerous side dishes first, while the meat marinates. He starts cooking it at ten, because Jungkook finishes at ten and it's a half hour walk home.

Half past ten comes and goes.

The meat gets cold. Yoongi pours a drink, and then another.

At midnight he packs the untouched food into containers with hands that tremble even when he tells them not to. He can’t go to bed, not while Jungkook isn’t home; Yoongi knows it’s a little irrational, but he turns on the television and watches mindless late-night comedies until familiar footsteps sound outside the door.


The sound of a key scraping against the lock goes on for several minutes before Yoongi takes pity and opens the door. Jungkook sways towards him the moment he sees Yoongi.

"Are you drunk?" Yoongi can't hold back, as Jungkook stumbles inside, throwing the door shut behind himself. He can't smell anything like booze, but this is definitely not the usual Jungkook. "Or high?"

"I didn't mean to," Jungkook says, looking at Yoongi pleadingly. "I tried— I know you don't, but— I couldn't stay away." He's a lot closer than he was when he started speaking; close enough for Yoongi to look up and see Jungkook's pupils dark and huge, skin shiny with sweat. "I had to. I have to—" He steps in a little bit closer. Close enough that Yoongi steps back and collides with the wall.

Jungkook comes forward again. His hands are hot on Yoongi's skin as Jungkook shoves his shirt out of the way. His fingers dig into Yoongi as he pulls Yoongi flush against his body. Yoongi can feel his dick through two layers of denim: hard and thick and something Yoongi wants to get on his knees for. "Please," Jungkook whispers into the heated air between their mouths.

"Yes," Yoongi gasps out, bringing his hands up to clutch at Jungkook's arms. "Anything. You know I—"

Jungkook swallows the rest of Yoongi's sentence, his tongue sliding past Yoongi's open lips without waiting for further permission. They both moan into the kiss. Yoongi digs his fingers into Jungkook’s biceps, tries to pull him in impossibly closer. Jungkook’s hands are everywhere: tracing the bumps of Yoongi’s spine, groping his ass, sliding around the front of his jeans to palm his dick.

“Bedroom,” Yoongi pants out, even though the last thing he wants to do is move away from Jungkook’s hands and his mouth on Yoongi’s neck.

"Or couch," Jungkook suggests, grinding against him.

Yoongi wavers. "My lube's in the bedroom," he realises. Jungkook groans and pulls away.

The transition to Yoongi's bedroom is much faster and rougher than the last time Jungkook helped him into the room. Yoongi lands on the bed with a soft thump, Jungkook crawling after him. With frantic hands, Yoongi shoves Jungkook's shirt up his chest until Jungkook sits up enough to pull it off.

"Nice," Yoongi praises, running his eyes and his hands over the clearly defined lines of Jungkook's abs. If Jungkook sits up a little more, Yoongi can probably manage to lick them. He's prevented from this endeavour by Jungkook diving back down and taking his mouth in a biting kiss, hands working to get Yoongi's jeans open and off. Yoongi wriggles his hips in an attempt to help, but mostly just ends up grinding against Jungkook's thigh. He'd almost be satisfied with just this, but Jungkook seems fairly intent on something more. "Yours too," Yoongi says, when Jungkook succeeds in his task.

"Yeah," Jungkook replies, but doesn't do anything to actually take his jeans off. "Where's your lube?"

"Drawer," Yoongi answers, biting his lip, deliberating. "Okay, I'll get it, you get naked," he decides, rolling onto his side to stretch out for his bedside table.

Jungkook must move at the speed of light, because his hands are back on Yoongi almost immediately, stroking up his thighs and over the curve of his ass. It's pretty distracting, but Yoongi perseveres.

"You're not naked," Yoongi points out when he rolls back over, tube held high victoriously.

Jungkook nods. His tongue slides out to wet his lips. "Uh huh," he says, clearly not listening to what Yoongi's actually saying. "Can I...?" He gestures to the lube, and Yoongi hands it over immediately.

With his own hands free, he can turn to other important tasks, like at least getting Jungkook's jeans undone, if not off. He slides the zipper down and makes the discovery that Jungkook's not wearing any underwear. "Nice," Yoongi repeats breathlessly, and sticks his hand inside to stroke Jungkook's dick without any hesitation.

"Fuck, hyung," Jungkook groans out, fumbling the lube and pushing his hips into Yoongi's grip. "That feels so— I'm gonna come."

"Already?" Yoongi feels compelled to ask. He's barely done anything.

"Don't worry, I can get it up again," Jungkook reassures him, like he thinks Yoongi's worried about that. Which— Well. Yoongi tightens his grip a little and continues. Jungkook bites out several expletives and throws his head back as he comes.

Yoongi draws his hand back to himself. With a little consideration, mostly on the way Jungkook's watching him, he licks his fingers. Jungkook's come tastes pretty much the same as anyone else's, but Yoongi plays it up a little, moaning around his fingers, making sure Jungkook can see his tongue.

"That's hot," Jungkook tells him matter-of-factly. "Now I kinda want to watch you finger yourself."

"I can," Yoongi says, sliding his fingers out of his mouth so he can talk. Jungkook hesitates, before shaking his head.

"I wanna touch you," he explains simply.

"Oh," Yoongi manages. "That's— You can do that."

Jungkook does. Strong hands manoeuvre Yoongi until he's face-down in the pillows, ass in the air. He can't see what Jungkook's doing at all, so the yelp he makes when there's a tongue flicking over his hole is completely justified. Jungkook pulls back to nip at the top of Yoongi's thigh and chuckle lowly. Yoongi's not sure where this confident, sexy Jungkook came from, but he hopes he never leaves.

"Shut up," Yoongi says petulantly. "Give me some warning next time."

"I'm going to eat you out now," Jungkook deadpans, and suits actions to words. He's more enthusiastic than talented, but it's still so fucking good Yoongi pushes back against his mouth until Jungkook holds him in place. The pillow is nearly suffocating Yoongi. He manages to turn his head to the side when Jungkook lets up a little. The touch of slick fingers is so welcome Yoongi demands more immediately.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Jungkook says, but he's certainly not shy about adding another even as he says it. His hands are so good — Yoongi's not about to admit the many hours he's spent thinking about them, but he does babble more praise as Jungkook preps him quickly.

"Wait!" Yoongi remembers as the slick head of Jungkook's dick starts to breach him. "Condom, quick."

Jungkook snarls and Yoongi freezes. Neither of them move. "Condom, Kook-ah," Yoongi says again, a lot more stern this time.

Jungkook's hands flex on his hips. "No," he growls out. He drops low to sink sharp teeth into Yoongi's shoulder, letting go only when Yoongi starts to complain. "Wanna breed you, fill you up. Make you mine."

"I'm yours," Yoongi promises breathlessly. "But unless you get a condom on in the next five seconds, I'm leaving you like this." He doesn't even know if he's bluffing or not, but luckily, Jungkook doesn't test him further.

Another stinging bite on his neck, and Jungkook pulls away with a groan. Yoongi breathes slowly in and out, braced up on his elbows. He watches over his shoulder as Jungkook rips open the packet with his teeth, slides it over his unflagging erection. He sees Yoongi watches and plays it up a little, stroking himself slowly, his ears flopped down behind his head.

"Can I fuck you now?" Jungkook asks sardonically. There's no trace of the animalistic fervour of before, just regular sweet, attentive Jungkook.

"You may," Yoongi says primly, a little thrill running through him at Jungkook's easy laugh in response.

He's not hard anymore, after Jungkook's weird argument, but it still feels amazing as Jungkook slides in. Yoongi encourages him on with his knees planted and a steady stream of praise, and Jungkook gives it to him hard, thighs slapping together and Jungkook's heavy breath above him. Yoongi navigates himself to leaning on one arm so he can use the other to work himself up. It doesn't take long with Jungkook so thick and deep within him; the sting of his nails breaking skin on Yoongi's hips makes the final tipping point.

Yoongi folds forward onto the mattress and lets Jungkook use him to completion.


Yoongi's shoulder stings. His ass aches. There's a heavy arm thrown over his stomach and light snores coming from his left. When he finally forces his eyes open, he can see at least four condom wrappers on the floor next to the bed. He remembers... most of it. It's a blur, really, of Jungkook just going and going and going. Yoongi feels like every part of him is made of jelly. He manages to roll over enough to scrabble for his phone on the nightstand.

Jungkook sleeps on as Yoongi does his rather eye-opening research on the mating habits of hybrids.

"Why are you looking at porn?" Jungkook's sleep-rough voice asks. Yoongi drops his phone onto his face in surprise.

"It's not porn," he argues. "I was just— You were, ah..."

"Yeah," Jungkook agrees, pulling all his limbs back onto his side of the bed. His ears are pressed close to his head. "I'm sorry."

"What? Why?" Yoongi wants to know, dragging himself to sitting since apparently they're going to have a real conversation right now.

"Because I took advantage of you!" Jungkook bursts out. "I was trying to stay away, but I just kept thinking about you and then I was home, and you were— Why didn't you stop me?"

Yoongi gapes at him. "What? You didn't take advantage of me, I was very willing, in case you didn't notice!" It's a weird thing to yell at someone at eight in the morning. "Why would I stop you? I wanted you."

Jungkook's shoulders are pulled so high Yoongi can almost feel sympathetic aches. "You didn't even realise I was in heat! I could have really hurt you!"

"Well, next time, tell me!" Is the first thing Yoongi thinks to say. "And, okay, you did hurt me, but only a little bit. It's not like I told you to stop."

"Yes, you did," Jungkook points out while staring at the empty space between them.

Yoongi sighs heavily, running his hands through his hair. "And you stopped, remember?" Jungkook shrugs in response, still not looking up. His ears and his shoulders have loosened up the tiniest bit. "And," Yoongi continues, "after that it was pretty good, right?" He stretches his foot out far enough to nudge Jungkook's shin with his toes. "Right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Jungkook mumbles, trying to hide his smile.

"You guess?" Yoongi repeats, playing up the incredulousness. "I was amazing, and you know it."

"Eh," Jungkook says, tilting his hand back and forth. "I've had better."

Yoongi leans forward enough to gently punch his shoulder. "You have not," he says.

Jungkook breaks immediately. "I haven't. You were actually, uh..." He trails off, looking back down at the sheets with a blush starting up on his cheeks.

"I was— That was your first time?" Yoongi almost screeches. Jungkook nods shyly, one of his hands coming up to fiddle with his ear. "Huh. Wow. Natural talent, I guess."

"I've watched a lot of porn," Jungkook admits, his face bright red. Yoongi resists the urge to coo and tug his cheek. "Can we please stop talking about this now?" He begs, looking at Yoongi beseechingly.

"We should shower," Yoongi agrees. "And drink lots of coffee. And you should carry me to the bathroom," he adds, holding his arms out hopefully. Jungkook, already on his feet, looks down at him consideringly.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"My legs don't work," Yoongi whines, wriggling closer for optimum picking up. "And it's your fault."

Jungkook blows out his breath explosively and says, "Fine." He hefts Yoongi into the air like he's made of feathers, then knocks his feet against the door frame two seconds later trying to get out of Yoongi's bedroom. "Sorry, hyung."

"It's fine," Yoongi says, a little distracted peering over Jungkook's shoulder at something he's never seen before. "I didn't know you had a tail!"