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If you asked Taehyung, their first concert at Rose Bowl was fine. Well, that wasn’t the right way to put it. It was exhilarating, not to mention exciting, with a new setlist, outfits, and stages pieces, but otherwise manageable. No breakdowns, no hiding in changing rooms, and no bandmates fucking up his ability to function. Hoseok wore a gray camo jacket over his Dior outfit, and everything was well. Taehyung had expected the second date to be relatively the same.

It was not.

The younger brunette was fresh out of a performance of The Truth Untold, still dressed in his white lace shirt and drinking copious amounts of water--more out of nerves than replenishment. The buzzing feeling that came after leaving a stage seeped into his veins like a leaky faucet, and he lounged on the black sofas lazily as a result. His earpieces were dangling over his shoulders as he sat in the waiting room, with his fellow vocalists, waiting for their next performance. Seokjin was in the background, quietly discussing with a stylist about their next outfits, and Jimin was next to him, getting his hair touched up, although Taehyung thought he looked pretty much flawless to begin with. Meanwhile in the back of the room, Jungkook, somehow already changed into his clothes, scrolled through Twitter on his phone, getting a quick look at fan reactions to their concert so far. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, had his eyes glued to the monitor, where the neon green lights had begun fanning out across the stadium, flashing the stage and the audience in a dark, almost alien glow that permeated through the fake fog. Tear was about to start. The haunting piano keys echoed through the TV’s speakers in time with the lights, sending a chill down Taehyung’s back. He watched as their fan’s lightsticks switched between the same green and a bright white, flickering like a warning sign of what’s to come. Taehyung, ever the rapline enthusiast, nibbled on his lips and leaned forward in anticipation. If any of their previous concerts proved anything, it was that Tear was something you could not miss.

The camera first panned to Namjoon, who began the first line with a burst of fire—literally—as the center stage shot quick columns of flames into the air, but even that heat couldn’t compare to Namjoon’s verbal barrage. The elder rapped with his familiar fervor, with a tinge of rushed, angry sadness that accompanied the tone of the song. Taehyung couldn’t help himself as he bobbed his head lightly to the powerful verse, watching intently.

However, everything went to shit when the camera panned around. First, it landed on Yoongi, who stalking past the side of the stage, in his recognizable chill manner. His steps were in time with the beat, and his eyes were closed as he listened to Namjoon’s voice boom through the speakers, intense as ever. The frame then shifted to Hoseok, who was freestyling to the leader’s verse, feeling himself in a way only the expert dancer could. He took slow steps around his section of the stage, movements sharp and punctuated and overflowing with a passionate charm.

When he noticed Hoseok’s outfit, however, he immediately started choking on his last sip of water.

He doubled over in a coughing fit. He braced his hand on the coffee table in front of him while he flapping his other hand frantically at a startled Jimin and staff, an attempt to tell them he was okay.

It took him another few seconds to recuperate, and at that point his face was red and his eyes were brimming with tears. Despite that, he lifted his head back up to monitor, where Hoseok had started the pre-chorus, which probably was not a good idea considering his reaction the first time.

Even if he hadn’t been watching so fervently, the mental image was already seared into his mind, hard enough it was probably physically visible on his brain. Hoseok had lost the jacket from the day before and donned mostly all black--black combat boots, black baggy cargo pants, black sweater, and the finishing touch (finishing as in finishing Taehyung), a black combat harness that wrapped over his chest. A silver chain hung from his hips, accenting the monochrome outfit and sparkling alongside the light, glittery microphone in the man’s grip. He looked nothing short of an edgy SWAT agent, a definite upgrade from the police uniforms they wore for their Dope promotions. The elder was filled with energy—powerful and sharp like the harsh green lights behind him. His stage presence was fierce, leaping out of the screen with the loud beats of music, and even in the dancer’s freestyling, Taehyung could spot the deliberate control he had over every movement he made and the force packed into every shift of his muscles.

In other words, he was hot as fuck.

That was hot as fuck.

Taehyung buried his face in his hands, as his mind drifted off to how much better being choked by Hoseok would be compared to choking on water, which was not a very common Taehyung thought.

He wanted to cry . And Taehyung hadn’t even seen his outfit in person yet. He would go congratulate him on the feat, but he wasn’t quite sure he wouldn’t be dead by the time they finished the concert.

Fucking Dior.

Saving him from his self-imposed breakdown, his stylist dragged him off to get changed. Tear was about to be over, and Mic Drop was coming up next. She handed him his outfit from the changing rack, another Dior-designed ensemble to match the rest of his members, and lead him into a changing room. Taehyung sighed, staring at the clothes in his hands. He pulled on the new outfit quickly, with the practiced speed of someone with six years of stage experience. He paused after he was done, taking the time to look at himself in the full-body mirrors they kept in the changing rooms. His fit was similar to Hoseok’s day one outfit, with the boots, cargo pants, and large camo jacket, but an oversized, black t-shirt replaced Hoseok’s sweater, a black headband covered his forehead, and not a harness in sight. Taehyung wouldn’t say he looked bad, but he knew he paled in comparison to Hoseok.

He shook his head, willing himself to stop thinking about the older man. Easier said than done.


The Mic Drop performance went well. Taehyung refused to look anywhere near Hoseok’s direction, but it was fine. The red lights on the stadium dimmed to black as the song ended, allowing Taehyung and the others to run off the stage. They gathered in the dressing rooms, tired from the near two-hour run of performances and glad to have their intermission period. The young singer wanted to rest, but he was hyper-aware of the fact that Hoseok had decided to stand right next to him, which made both looking and not looking at him very hard and very, very obvious. Taehyung shot his hyung a quick glance and regretted it as soon as he did.

The one glance quickly turned into a stare. Seeing him up close in proper lighting was a wholly different experience. The sweater hugged his lean body perfectly, while the thick harness made his appearance that much more intimidating. Hoseok was glowing in the way performers did after coming off of the stage, muscles still tense, with sweat matting his hair and dripping down the side of his neck. He had a towel in hand, wiping the droplets off his face that was still slightly locked in a glare from their performance. Taehyung found him mesmerizing, and he also found himself wondering how to become a towel. 

A slap on the back knocked him out of his thoughts, quite literally as he nearly fell over from the surprise. “You did really well today, Taehyung!” Jimin’s voice came from his other side, cheerful as can be.

Taehyung gave him a deadpanned look in return, having barely caught himself by grabbing onto the back of a couch in front of him.

“Your dance was a lot more powerful this time around. Your body rolls and your steps were more defined,” Jimin complimented, grinning at him.

“Thanks,” he replied, giving a smile in return. Taehyung appreciated the gesture, but at that moment, he could definitely feel Hoseok’s attention on him now that he made a fool of himself falling over.

The shorter man continued to smile, and Taehyung wasn’t sure if his friend was ignoring his current state or just not noticing it.

“Hoseok-hyung was really good today too,” Jimin added, tilting his head up towards the older man.

“He always is,” Taehyung said matter-of-factly, before remembering that the topic of their small talk was right next to him a bit too late.

“Thanks, Taehyung-ie!” replied Hoseok cheerfully, hugging his arms around the younger man’s neck from behind. “You too, Jimin-ie. But he’s right; you looked good out there, Tae.”

Taehyung, on the other hand, was pretty sure he stopped breathing. He could feel Hoseok’s chin pressing against his head, his breath against his ear, and his hard chest against his back, and the younger prayed that Hoseok could not feel Taehyung’s own rapid heartbeat against his anything. He latched his hands onto Hoseok’s forearms where they were resting near his neck, the younger member a step away from throwing the elder’s weight off of him. Any other time, the contact would be welcome, returned even, but with the situation, Taehyung was about to have an aneurysm.

Jimin went on, leaning himself on the back of the couch and half-mindedly stretching over it in a way only his flexibility could manage. “I was worried about him at first. He started coughing really badly when Tear started, and I wasn’t sure if his voice would be okay after that. Good thing he turned out fine though.”

Taehyung stilled. He did not want Hoseok to make any connection between his (poorly hidden) avoidance of him and his near-death experience.

Hoseok pouted out of the corner of his eye. “Aw, no. How’d that happen?”

Taehyung opened his mouth to respond, but Jimin beat him to it. “Well, he drank some water, and I guess he was too focused on your performance on the screen that he choked on it?”

“Damn, was it bad?”

“Kind of? It honestly looked like he coughed up a lung or two.”

“Oh no.”

Taehyung felt like a ping pong ball. The kind that bounced back and forth and back and forth and was one more hit away from being accidentally whacked too hard and launched onto the dank, dark, miserable floor where he’d sulk for the rest of the day.

He needed to fix this.

“Uh, not two lungs. More like half, or uh, a quarter lung...” he cut in and then trailed off. Yeah, problem definitely not fixed. “You know what, I should get dressed for the next performance. Let me just, uh…”
He carefully peeled Hoseok off of him and climbed over the couch that was blocking his way, haphazardly landing next to Jimin. “I’ll be back in a second,” Taehyung said to him and ran off, taking extra care to not look at either of them.

Once he knew he was out of view, he rubbed a hand over his face, cringing inwardly. He hoped Hoseok didn’t find any of his behavior odd, though he wasn’t that convinced himself. Taehyung rushed off, catching the attention of his stylist--who was very confused since the young man was a lot less eager the last time he had to change--before grabbing his clothes and closing himself into the same changing room as earlier.

Taehyung yanked off his jacket and shoes off and tossed them onto the ground, his pants following closely after. He was feeling too hot after having Hoseok so near, on top of having just performed. He sighed, ruffling the hair on the back of his head in frustration. He just needed some alone time, preferably some peace and quiet to bang his head on the wall a couple times.

Then a knock sounded on his door. Goodbye, peace and quiet.

“Hey, Taehyung. All the other rooms are being used. Could I change in here?”

“Shit,” Taehyung cursed to himself. That was Hoseok’s voice. He whipped his head around the changing room like a cornered animal, hoping to find a place to hide. He stared at the mirror, momentarily contemplating how to jump through the reflective glass.

Then he looked down at himself.


He took off his pants already.

“Is everything okay in there? We need to be kind of fast. The intermission’s about to start.”

They’d seen each other naked plenty of times, and he was technically still in his shirt and boxers, but Taehyung didn’t need that kind of exposure at the moment. He groaned silently to himself, resorting to yanking down his shirt more to cover himself up.

“Yeah, I’m unlocking the door, give me a second!” he called back, scrambling to undo the lock. He swung open the door a little bit, immediately met with Hoseok’s brilliant smile and his soul-snatching, breath-taking, god-damned Dior fit.

Taehyung just decided to smile back.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” the older member beamed, reaching over to push the door. Then he stopped, seeing Taehyung’s half-dressed state. Hoseok’s eyes scanned down his body, to the shirt that clung to his waist and his bare legs he tried to hide behind the door. Taehyung ignored the flaming sensation on his cheeks as he held the door open.

“No problem,” he responded, stepping aside to let the older man in. Taehyung turned away from him, taking his place to the wall across the door, letting Hoseok have the bench space that was parallel to the mirror. He made the effort to appear normal, not moving too far away from the elder, but also not too close, but considering the room was less than two meters wide on both sides, any distance was still too close .

“You know,” Hoseok announced suddenly, “I saw you staring at me earlier.”

Taehyung froze. And probably set on fire. Somewhere in between. He never really expected for Hoseok to actually call him out on it, even if he noticed.

The younger let out a nervous laugh. He lifted his new clothes from where he hung them on the wall, trying to appear casual. “What do you mean?” he said, refusing to turn around just yet.

Instead of a response, Taehyung felt hands gripping his waist, his back pressed hard against Hoseok’s chest. He gasped in surprise, dropping the hanger in front of him. The embrace was different from the earlier one, that was all friendly and cuddly. The contact now was possessive, sensual, and much, much closer.

“Is this okay?” Hoseok asked, his voice tickling Taehyung’s ear. He turned both of them to face the mirror, and Taehyung’s breath hitched.

Seeing Hoseok against him was surreal. Hoseok seemed to envelop him, despite the fact that they were both about nearly the same height. He felt small, and for some reason, he loved that feeling. Taehyung could see where Hoseok’s head rested against the side of Taehyung’s, nose buried in his dark locks. He could see how, with a tilt of his head, their lips would meet. He could see the harness Hoseok wore from behind him, accompanied by an urge to grab it and pull him closer. He could see where Hoseok’s hands rested on the sides of his waist where it was only centimeters away from where his shirt met skin. He could see how their hips were flushed against each other, and with a pause, he realized what Hoseok was asking him.

Hoseok’s hands moved away, causing Taehyung’s eyes to snap up to his in the mirror. They looked more hesitant.

Taehyung still hadn’t responded.

“Yes!” he blurted. “It’s okay. I think.”

The younger spun around to face Hoseok, looking at him properly for the first time in hours. Taehyung’s eyes trailed him up and down before he could help himself, feeling a bit more like he was facing his fears than observing his hyung. His fingers ghosted over the harness, slowing when he reached the chain hanging from his belt. He stopped when he returned to Hoseok’s face, where a smirk now settled on his lips.

“That’s how you looked at me earlier,” he said while leaning in, “Like you were trying to figure out the best way to take it off.”

Taehyung blushed, looking away.

Hoseok’s fingers came to Taehyung’ chin, gently tilting it up towards him. “Is this okay?” he asked again, lips millimeters away from his.

They looked each other in the eyes, and Taehyung found himself nodding.

Hoseok was close enough that Taehyung could count his eyelashes, and he wasn’t sure what to think. He never expected to be in this position, even if he imagined it a couple times. Multiple times. But it was always nonsensical, a fantasy.

But he couldn’t seem to remember what he was thinking when Hoseok’s lips met his. It was soft at first. Taehyung felt himself melting against Hoseok, their lips and their bodies seeming to mold against each other. The younger wrapped his arms around the other’s neck entangling his fingers in his hair that he could feel was still messy from the previous performance. The tension that had been building the past few hours slipped away as he took every opportunity to bring Hoseok closer, the very thing he’d denied himself for so long. The other gripped Taehyung’s hips possessively in response, coaxing a satisfied moan out of the younger.

He loved the feeling. Between kisses, they shared the same breath. Between, their touches they shared the same warmth. And if he tried, he could reach the harness on Hoseok’s body, something that grounded him to that moment.

They pulled apart for a second, gazing at each other quietly. Hoseok’s lips were red, and he figured his own were the same.

To Taehyung’s surprise, the other fully detached himself from him, moving away. He watched as Hoseok sat down on the bench before him. He leaned his body back, legs sprawled comfortably like an emperor on his throne. His eyes regarded him predatorily, to the point that Taehyung could feel his skin tingled as they roamed over his body. Hoseok’s hands braced themselves on the bench as he smiled in a cocky, confident way he only ever did on stage, something that sent his blood rushing south.

“Baby,” Hoseok called, voice velvety and low. Taehyung shivered pleasantly at the nickname. “Come take a seat.”

Taehyung obliged, almost surprising himself at how quickly he obeyed the command.

He turned around and stopped at Hoseok’s side, beginning to lower himself onto the bench.

But Hoseok’s hands stopped him.

They placed themselves around his waist, pulling him into his lap instead. Taehyung’s eyes widen as he landed on his hyung’s thighs, reaching for Hoseok’s arms for support. The same arms locked around his midsection as the man chuckled at Taehyung’s reaction.
“Wrong seat, sweetheart.”

He was probably blushing again. At the nickname or the position, he wasn’t quite sure.

Taehyung turned his head back around to Hoseok, leaning in to kiss him before he felt too embarrassed to.

This one was rougher. Their lips crashed this time, barely hitting each other at the right angle due to the way they were turned. It felt more like they were battling with their mouths, pushing back and forth, and Taehyung was losing. Overwhelmed, he reached one arm back to grip Hoseok’s hair again, pulling him closer, while Hoseok’s own hand wound its way around the base of his neck, caging him against his body. He gasped and whimpered as Hoseok kissed him expertly, something he wasn’t sure he would’ve expected from him. His bare thighs chafed slightly against the other’s rough cargo pants, but he barely even noticed. Taehyung drowned in Hoseok, the way he tasted, the way he burned. It was all choked breaths, saliva, and rising temperatures, and a desperate feeling of want.

The elder broke off the kiss, leaving them both panting, but Hoseok didn’t give him any more time to breathe. He kissed his way up his jawline, marking a trail towards his ear. Taehyung’s gasp soon followed as Hoseok nibbled on his earlobe and paused to whisper, “You’re so pretty like this. Too pretty.”

He moved on, mouthing down his neck where he used his tongue and teeth to attack the areas he found made Taehyung squirm the most. “Every time I look at you I think of new things I want to do, new ways to touch you.”

Taehyung bit his lip as Hoseok’s hands began traveling too, slipping up underneath his long shirt while his other stayed pinned at Taehyung’s hips. Taehyung placed his unused hand on top of Hoseok’s, but not stopping him. The older’s fingers trailed over his soft stomach and left tingling sensation in their wake. Taehyung wiggled around where he sat, the touches too much for him. Hoseok only chuckled, teasing the skin below his chest.

“You’re so responsive too.”

And to prove his point, Hoseok bit down on his skin below his shirt the same moment he pinched his nipple. A cry ripped through Taehyung’s throat, his body jolting only to be held down firmly. The logical part of him would’ve been thinking about how it’d leave a mark, how that kind of thing was dangerous for an idol like him, but whatever logic he had was long gone. The area between his neck and shoulder throbbed deliciously, and he felt his lower regions do the same. He almost hadn’t noticed how hard he’d gotten, and how much harder he just became. His boxers had even felt tight against his dick. His breaths were ragged as Hoseok continued to abuse the bite with licks and his nipples with twists and prods, pulling mewls from Taehyung’s lips.

“You’d take anything I’d give you, wouldn’t you, baby?” Hoseok cooed, stopping his ministrations after seeing the tears dotting Taehyung’s eyes, another reaction of his that had passed his own notice.

Hoseok stopped for a moment, seeming to break character as he gently wiped them away. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice softer than before.

Taehyung opened his mouth, but he was sure what to say. He wasn’t okay, but he was definitely okay. He settled for just telling him what he wanted. “More. Please,” he pleaded.

Hoseok responded with a peck on the lips, returning his hands to Taehyung’s skin once again. The touches were feather-light, raising goosebumps where they came in contact. He felt Hoseok kiss the back of his head. Taehyung liked the comfort, like how soft it made him feel.

He should’ve known at this point that Hoseok liked to surprise him.

His hand dipped under the waistband of his boxers. He didn’t touch his dick though, choosing to let his hand rub his hip bone. His other hand, that had mostly been holding him down (or upright, Taehyung was struggling with that too), moved down his thigh. Hoseok massaged the soft flesh, watching the younger intently as he moaned. The touches were so close to his cock, but Hoseok took special care not to so much as brush against it. Taehyung bucked his hips, hoping to find friction, but Hoseok made sure to take that away too.

He pulled his boxers off his body, leaving him now with only the shirt he wore. Taehyung gasped as his dick was exposed to the air, where it curved against his stomach. Precum dotted the tip, and Taehyung felt his cheeks flush even more. He looked away, turning his head so he leaned more on Hoseok’s shoulder, eyes clenched shut.

The man chuckled, continuing to massage the skin around it, each one closer to the core.

Not able to take any more of it, Taehyung panted deliriously, “Hyung—ah… please.”

The hands retreated from him altogether.

“No!” Taehyung shouted, voice almost cracking. “No, no, don’t stop.”

It was embarrassing. His voice slurred, and his hands grappled aimlessly for Hoseok’s, who didn’t budge but just watched him pitifully. He was desperate to be touched. It felt good. He wanted to keep feeling good. Now he was cold, and he almost wanted to tell Hoseok he was being cruel.

“Baby,” the culprit said, the pet name shutting him up right away. “You need to be more specific when you ask things. The basis of a good relationship is based on communication, isn’t that right, Taehyung-ie?”

Taehyung felt chided. He wanted to please his hyung, but embarrassment set in again. Hoseok put one of his hands on his chin, turning Taehyung to face him. 

“Tell hyung what you want,” he whispered, placing a light kiss on his forehead.

Hoseok looked him in the eyes, gaze unwavering as Taehyung shuddered. He wanted to break eye contact, feeling too much like Hoseok was staring into his soul and simultaneously toying with it. He hung his desires in front of him like bait on a stick and pulled them away whenever he lunged for them. The man knew exactly what he wanted, Taehyung could tell from the almost imperceptible quirk of his lips, the glint in his dark, unmoving eyes.

It was somewhat humiliating, but he felt himself relenting anyway. “Please touch me,” he pleaded, his voice unsteady and tapering off at the end.

Hoseok’s hands returned to his skin once more, coaxing a sigh out of Taehyung, but they were on his stomach, not quite close enough to where he wanted it. They drifted up to his chest, moving under his shirt again to play with his perk nipples one again, causing him to squirm and gasp, buzzing from sensitivity. He could feel Hoseok shaking his head behind. The elder’s apparent disappointment sent a small spike of panic through him.

Hoseok tsked, “Where? You need to tell me the details, baby.”

Instead of speaking, a less lust-addled part of Taehyung’s mind came up with a better idea. The younger lifted one of Hoseok’s hands, bringing it to his now painful dick. He stifled a moan at the contact while Hoseok laughed, actually laughed .

“I supposed that works,” he chuckled, biting Taehyung’s ear endearingly.

His hand stroked his member, excruciatingly slow from the base up to the head. Taehyung didn’t dare breathe as he felt moans trying to push past his lips. Hoseok gathered the precum at the tip for lubrication and continued to drag his hand back down at the same speed, but gave a slight squeeze when he returned to the base. 

“Ah, fuck,” Taehyung breathed out. His toes furled and his fingers tightened over the elder’s arm.

He soon picked up speed, pleasure now washing over Taehyung in waves. He moaned once. Then twice. And then they spilled out in droves. Hoseok would flick his wrist as he moved, exciting just the right nerves to send Taehyung’s back arching. His other hand continued to tease his nipples while his lips peppered kisses down the column of his throat, careful not to make marks anywhere visible. The combination of ministrations put Taehyung in a state of incoherence, muttering pleasure-filled words he couldn’t quite understand himself.

Even in the cloud of pleasure, he could hear Hoseok’s comments that burned him to the core. “My perfect little baby. My perfect little slut,” he hummed, causing Taehyung to whine.

“If we had more time, oh, the things I would do to you,” Hoseok mused, slowing down his stroking to an unbearable pace. “Can you look at the mirror again for hyung? Please, baby?”

Taehyung’s breathing shallowed at the thought. He preferred not to see himself so vulnerable like this, at Hoseok’s mercy.  But the gently prodding tone of his hyung made him open his eyes and turn to the mirror.

The view was even more hypnotizing than the earlier one, and he felt himself get impossibly harder. The contrast between the two of them was glaring. Taehyung wasn’t totally exposed, but only his shirt remained, the last piece of his dignity. The bareness of his soft tan limbs glowed in the low lighting of the dressing room where they hooked over various parts of Hoseok’s body for stability. His cock, on the other hand, was thick and red, twitching in the grip of Hoseok’s slim fingers as they slid gradually up and down his shaft. The younger followed the motion with his eyes, feeling his mouth drying at the realization that this was them . Hoseok was still fully dressed in his Dior, fully composed while Taehyung was fully unravelled. He was almost annoyed, that Hoseok had made him sit facing away from him, unable to see the older in his stage-set glory--the harness tight over his shoulder from the direction he bent over, the sweater’s sleeves he had rolled up to his elbows to keep out of the way, the set of his jaw as he bore his eyes into Taehyung’s through the mirror--but the feeling of being wrapped up in Hoseok’s arms surely made it worth it

Hoseok had begun to speed his hand up again, leaving Taehyung tense and mewling. But this time he could see himself tense and mewling. He couldn’t bring himself to disobey Hoseok, in fear of him stopping, but also because the view added another nuance to the experience. The sensations doubled in power as he felt them through sight and touch combined.

The lips attached to his jaw. The heavy-lidded eyes trained on him. The brush of tears against his cheeks that Hoseok carefully wiped away. The musty sweat glistening on his bare skin. The way his mouth switched between half-breathes and high-pitched sounds. The hard-on against his ass that he was too distracted to notice.

Taehyung grinded down on Hoseok’s dick almost instinctively, earning a sharp moan from the elder. He did it again, in time with Hoseok’s hand, encouraged by his reaction. Taehyung watched the interaction intently through the mirror, and he would almost be proud of his work if it weren’t from the yank on his hips.

“Don’t be coy, Taehyung-ie,” he growled into his ear, glowering at him from the glass, “Or else we might not leave this changing room at all.”

He shivered in response, remembering where they were. Their concert still wasn’t over. Thousands of their avid fans were only a few dozen meters away, and their staff and fellow bandmates were even closer. The concert could still have to continue in a few minutes. And Taehyung was naked in a dressing room being jerked off by his hyung.

Some part of him reacted to that by groaning, and it was not missed by Hoseok.

He continued lowly, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? I wish I could take my time and fuck you in here. Your perfect little ass is begging for my cock, isn’t it?”

He punctuated his words by kneading his ass cheeks with his free hand bringing a soft moan from Taehyung. “Hoseok, please…”

“I could pin you over this bench and fuck you against it. Would you like that?” He laughed almost condescendingly. “Then I’d make you watch yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself as I—wreck—you,” he continued, thumbing his slit on each of the last three syllables, leaving him whimpering.

“I’d make them would all hear you. All your hyungs would know how much of a whore their innocent dongsaeng is. And Jeongguk—he might even be jealous. He’d love seeing his pretty hyung so pliant like this.”

Taehyung shook his head, squeezing his eyelids shut.

“Do I need to remind you? Keep your eyes on the mirror ,” Hoseok ordered, voice hard.

Taehyung’s eyes snapped open at the command. He followed the motion of Hoseok’s other hand where it rubbed his stomach, the comforting contact distracting him from the strain of his dick and the build up of pressure in his gut. 

“Maybe I’d let the guys join in,” Hoseok suggested, returning to the lighter, almost easy tone from before. “But not before I fuck you good first. They could watch, though. It’d be a shame for them to miss out on such a show.”

Taehyung almost cummed at the thought, breathing harder as he made eye contact with Hoseok through the mirror again. He could tell the elder knew exactly what he was thinking, from the way his pupils dilated. Taehyung hated how Hoseok’s words affected, hated how much he loved them. Taehyung shouldn’t enjoy thinking about his members this way, but the idea of them joining made him nervous and feverish. But in the best possible way. His proposal was stuck in Taehyung’s head, even as Hoseok jerked him off. Taehyung was a born performer. He sang, danced, acted, and joked for his audience. He had even been in a drama before. The thought of putting on a show in such a dirty way excited him beyond belief, not far behind a bit of shame.

The pressure in his low regions proceeded to grow as Hoseok kept his pace up and down his length. He toyed with the head and massaged his balls and pressed just the right spots to make Taehyung buckling where he sat. Broken moans left his tired lips, a plea for an orgasm just below the surface. His eyes were still glued to the reflective glass, watching the way he fell farther and farther apart as Hoseok increased his stokes and licked at the sensitive area between his jaw and throat.

He could see stars in his eyes, the pleasure clouding his senses. He was about to come when he noticed the smirk on Hoseok’s lips. 

Instead of the orgasm he was expecting, the elder clenched the base of his cock, stopping it completely.

Taehyung cried out loudly, thrashing harshly in Hoseok’s grip. He rocked through the rest of his high, gasping in frustration. His tip was leaking profusely, and Hoseok just watched, amused.

“No, no, p-please let me come. Please, please, please ,” he babbled quietly, tears flowing from his eyes at the denial as he trailed off into incoherence.

Before Hoseok could reply, however, a knock on the door rang through the room, causing both of them to freeze.

Jeongguk’s voice echoed afterward, muffled slightly by the thin door. “Hey, Taehyung, everything alright in there?”

Taehyung had a sharp intake of breath, mind blanking. Instead of helping him back to his senses, Hoseok had begun stroking his dick once again, slow as ever. Part of him was panicking but another part was further aroused, Hoseok’s dirty mentions of Jeongguk from earlier returning to his mind. His mouth hung open uselessly, unable to respond.

He figured Jeongguk must have heard his shout when Hoseok cut off his release. He wasn’t exactly quiet. The elder must’ve known that too, but he kept on going at his swollen, sensitive member. 

“Uh, Taehyung? Do you need help or…?” Jeongguk spoke again, louder this time.

Yes, yes, he did .

Hoseok tweaked his nipple, catching his attention as Taehyung barely swallowed a whine. “Baby,” he whispered against his cheeks, “Say something back. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?”

The younger entertained the idea, being caught by his dongsaeng, whether Jeongguk would like the view, but he nodded halfheartedly, shivering and still dazed from the lack of orgasm. He softly cleared his throat.

“I’m okay!” Taehyung said, his voice coming out shaky and croaky. “I just… I just—mmph!”

A sharp twist of Hoseok’s hand surprised him, causing him to keel over.

“You’re just what?” Jeongguk called back.

Controlling his erratic breather, he replied, “I-I had a cramp, wh-when I was putting on my clothes, but it’s fine! Don’t worry about me!”

“You’re sure? It sounded like it hurt.”

He bit his lip to hold back another loud moan. “Yes, yes , a-all good.”

Hoseok had stopped stroking, choosing to run a single finger down against a vein on his cock.

“Alright,” Jeongguk said, sounding a bit skeptical. “The intermission ends in twelve minutes, so if it doesn’t get better soon let the staff know.”

“Will do,” Taehyung bit out, breathing out a relieved sigh as he heard Jeongguk’s footsteps receding from their changing room.

He felt Hoseok pat his head, humming at him. “You did very well, darling,” he praised. “I think a reward is due now.”

Taehyung preened at his hyung’s compliment, and almost cried again his confirmation.

Hoseok resumed his strokes, this time fast and without mercy. 

“Hyung!” he sobbed out, overstimulated.

His other hand joined in, fondling the tip and slit. He was playing Taehyung like an instrument, melodic moans resounding from the younger uncontrollably and another orgasm bubbled within his lower regions. Taehyung held onto Hoseok’s forearms, nails likely digging into skin. 

It wasn’t long before he finished, his body convulsing as his long-awaited release coursed through him. Instead of the mirror, Taehyung’s eyes saw white, eyelashes fluttering. He cummed into Hoseok’s hands, the feeling accompanied by broken sounds of pleasure. He quivered in oversensitivity as Hoseok pumped his member through his orgasm. Taehyung batted weakly at the elder’s hands, overwhelmed more the umpteenth time.

To his relief, Hoseok stopped, letting the younger rest his head against his shoulder as he came down from his high. His eyelids laid close and he was breathing deeply. Taehyung quirked an eye open lazily, seeing on the mirror that Hoseok was gazing at him with a fond look on his face. He blushed again.

“I’m so proud of you, baby boy. Listened to hyung so well,” the older cooed. “I’d give you a hug, but my hands are kind of sticky right now.”

Taehyung nodded with a dazed smile, nuzzling Hoseok’s neck. The elder pulled away slightly to grab tissues from a box under the bench, quickly cleaning them up. Taehyung hissed as he wiped his now deflated dick, still sensitive from earlier. (“Sorry, baby, we’ve got to get you clean.”) 

Once they were clean, Hoseok lifted him by the waist, turning him to finally face each other. He peppered the younger’s face with kisses, pecking his eyes to rid him of residual tears. Taehyung wrapped his arms and legs around Hoseok’s torso, relishing in his affection. He gave him one last kiss on the lips, sweet and featherlight. He petted the back of his head, gently coaxing him out of the bit subspace Taehyung was in.

“Taehyung-ah,” Hoseok spoke up, prompting Taehyung to raise his head groggily, drained from the session.

“Was all of that… alright?” he said, his question laced with concern. “I-I should’ve talked it over with you beforehand.  We didn’t set up boundaries or safe words, and—”

Taehyung shook his head. “Hyung, it’s alright. Well, yeah, we should’ve discussed it beforehand, but it was a spur of the moment thing.”

The younger sighed, leaning his head against Hoseok’s forehead, so they saw eye to eye. “If anything was too much, I would’ve told you, and I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want.”

Hoseok smiled. “That’s good to hear then.”

Taehyung smiled back. “We’ll be more prepared next time.”

Then he jerked away, realizing what he had said.

“I-I mean, not to assume. Only if you want to. If this was a one-time thing, th-that’s fine too,” Taehyung sputtered, face turning red.

Hoseok’s grin widened. “Ah, my Taehyung-ie’s so cute,” the elder squealed, cupping the said boy’s warming cheeks. Taehyung pouted in response.

“Of course we can do it again. You’re such an adorable little sub,” Hoseok said, squishing the younger’s face. “And I made some promises I’d like to keep,” he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Taehyung shuddered as he recalled his hyung’s dirty talk, but pushed it out of his mind, fearing another hard-on despite the fact he just came minutes ago.

And then he paused, remembering Hoseok’s dick was still hard against his thigh.

“Hyung, what about you? You never got to finish!” he exclaimed, distressed. He was so focused on getting himself off he neglected Hoseok. What kind of partner forgot about something like this?

However, Hoseok just tutted, booping Taehyung on the nose. “You barely have the energy to get me off, and we don’t have the time,” he said.

“But—” Taehyung tried to protest.

“Don’t worry about it, Taehyung. Worry about getting changed. We still have a lot more performances!” the elder reasoned. He linked his arms behind Taehyung’s neck, giving him a wink. “You can always pay me back in the future.”

The younger looked down bashfully but ultimately agreed. He nuzzled his head into Hoseok’s neck. “Can we cuddle some more then?”

“Of course, baby.”

Taehyung stayed in Hoseok’s lap for a while, absorbing his warmth in the last few minutes they had to rest. He smiled to himself contentedly, wondering how he got so lucky today. The series of events that lead up to this seemed so unbelievable, and as much as he loved his fans, he didn’t really want to leave the changing room and—

“Wait, hyung,” Taehyung started, lifting his head to look at Hoseok, “When you were coming in, you… You said the other changing rooms were full. From what I remember, we have eight of them to ourselves, and we only have seven members. If I’m doing the math right, there’s literally no way we would’ve run out of changing rooms. You even referred to me by name when you knocked on the door. You knew which one I’d be in!”

Taehyung stopped, still thinking. “And you also said the intermission was about to start, but when Jeongguk interrupted, he said we had twelve minutes left—”

His hyung smirked. “I think you were a little too flustered to think straight.”

“I—“ Taehyung stammered, disbelieving. “So you premeditated that?”

“Uh, maybe a little. I had a feeling you’d enjoy my outfit change,” Hoseok replied with a sly look on his face. “None of the kinky stuff was planned though. I never would’ve thought my sweet little dongsaeng was into that, but I’m very satisfied with the result.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you need to get changed. Come on. We still have some songs to go.”