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I feel the destiny in you

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Namjoon… doesn't want to do this. Or, more than that, he knows he shouldn't do this. But there's just something about sleepy soft Seokjin in his favorite blue whale shirt and his black face mask, pushing his bangs out of his eyes and waving at the cameras with his hands hidden by his sleeves, that makes something primal curls in his stomach.

He tries not to stare too much, not too show Seokjin (and his band mates, and the staff, and the photographers and the world.) how much he wants him. He's not absolutely certain he succeeds.

He waits til they're in the private waiting area and then waits some more so he's not too obvious when he leaves for the bathroom. Thankfully Seokjin is very observant and follows him closely, yawning in his face when Namjoon cages him against the door.

A surge of shame swallows him the way it always does when he gets Seokjin like that; backstage in a tiny room, in public bathrooms, in a car; he feels like he's defiling him when he sees Seokjin in such poor environment, when he deserves nothing but satin sheets and velvet pillows.

Seokjin wraps his arms loosely around Namjoon's shoulders, apparently unaware of his inner turmoils, and rubs his nose against Namjoon's jaw. "Mmm, Namjoonie," He mumbles gently. Everything about him screams comfort and home and Namjoon feels himself gradually relaxing in his arms. "Love you Joonie," He says when Namjoon embraces him back.

He thinks he could doze off here with his nose pressed in Seokjin's soft smelling hair, their bodies melting against each other's. It wouldn't be the first time that either of them fall asleep standing, and not the first time they'd fall asleep holding onto each other during one of their long hours of waiting (in airports, backstage before a show, on a mv set.). Seokjin is gently swaying the both of them from side to side, sleepily pursing his lips so they touch Namjoon’s skin. Namjoon really could fall asleep like that.

“I love you too hyung,”

And Namjoon does love him, so much that he forgets his initial (shameful) plan, preferring to slip his hands under Seokjin’s sweater to make contact with his silky skin instead. He’s perfectly content with simply carressing Seokjin’s side, is ready to settle for a gentle hug until his fingers reach Seokjin’s waist, and Seokjin shivers against him with a soft sigh. He thinks it’s a coincidence at first but when he touches Seokjin’s waist a second time he hears it again, crystal clear: the sigh is heavy, tickling the skin of his neck.

The third time Namjoon presses intentionally on just the right spot and Seokjin writhes against him almost imperceptibly. He gives him a short break and hugs him as close as he can, their bodies squeezed together; kisses the tip of Seokjin’s reddening ear. “Hyung. Show me?”

Seokjin’s breath hitches and he stops the swaying, burying his face deeper against Namjoon’s neck. “Anyone could come in,” He says softly, a hint of whine in his tone. Namjoon can feel the heat of shame radiating from him.

“Not if we move,” He says quietly, tilting his head in the stalls’ direction. Once again the guilt of dragging Seokjin in such a crass place threatens to swallow him, quietened only by Seokjin’s soft nod, his gentle willingness. They sway to the stall more than they walk to it, both of them unable to let go of the other.

Seokjin tilts his head back when they're out of sight for any passerby, lips pursed in a silent request that Namjoon happily obliges to. He could get lost into the kiss, forget once again about the reason he dragged Seokjin there in the first place but Seokjin gasps in his mouth when he touches his sides again, lighting a slow spark of want in his brain. He leans away from Seokjin, laughing quietly when Seokjin chases after him so sweetly. He presses one last lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Show me, please?”

He gives Seokjin just enough space to move, as much as the cramped stall gives them. Seokjin is gorgeous even under the yellow artificial light and Namjoon can see perfectly the light blush on his face and his neck, can imagine it under the collar of sweater. The damn thing is so long, covering the top of Seokjin’s thighs. When he reaches to the bottom of it it’s with sleeve-covered hands, and he lifts it so slowly, almost teasingly, until the skin of his stomach is visible.

“So pretty, hyung,” Namjoon says reverently, pressing his thumb on the love bite on Seokjin’s right side. Seokjin visibly shivers. “You look so perfect. So beautiful.”

One of the downsides of dating someone famous is being unable to leave visible marks. Namjoon is lucky enough, though, because he’s able to couple is thirst for visible marks with his obsession for his lover’s waist. He loves nothing more than to bite on the thin skin of Seokjin’s stomach, leaving sloppy kisses on his sides and making him laugh at the ticklish sensation.

Without thinking he drops to his knees to watch them from up close, the one of his right side the darkest, the second next to his navel slowly starting to fade. He looks up at Seokjin (He’ll never be tired of that view, getting on his knees and looking up at Seokjin, his only kind of prayer.) and pleads. “Can I?”

“Go on,” Seokjin encourages gently, carding his fingers in Namjoon’s hair.

Namjoon pushes the edge of the sweater higher. "Hold onto it, okay?" Seokjin nods. He knows full well how much Namjoon likes admiring him while he marks up his waist, love seeing the way his abs contracts when he feels the sudden graze of teeth.

After much consideration Namjoon decides on the point right above Seokjin's left hip bone, spending some times just nuzzling the spot before he presses his lips to it. If Namjoon was still unsure about all of this Seokjin’s gasp reassures him. He looks up at him from under his lashes, tasting Seokjin’s skin under his tongue and Seokjin obediently lifts his sweater higher with a soft sound.

It always takes Namjoon’s breath away, the way they understand each other without having to say a word, in sexual situation or in their everyday life. Even when they just started fooling around with each other there was always that feeling of certainty, a level of trust that Namjoon had never dreamed of sharing with someone before. Seokjin was an evidence, he thinks when he finally closes his lips on his skin, when Seokjin trembles at the graze of his fingers over the older marks, over his stomach, softly following the curve of his waist.

He makes quick work of it, eager to see the new bite on Seokjin’s perfect skin. He doesn’t resist gently biting the skin right next to it just to hear Seokjin’s breathy moan; he’s surprised when he doesn’t hear anything at all, until he looks up to see Seokjin has both sleeve-covered hands clasped over his mouth. He’s still holding onto the extremity of his sweater, and it has hiked up so much Namjoon can see one of his nipples.

“Hyung,” He whispers, resting his cheek against the rough fabric of his jeans. He noses the outline of Seokjin’s hot, hard cock through it. “Want my help with this?” He asks like they both didn’t know where this was leading them the second Namjoon had dropped to his knees.

It takes no time to get Seokjin’s jeans and underwear off after he gives his agreement, revealing several other marks on the thin skin of his inner thighs. “Pretty,” Namjoon says, pressing his lips to each of them slowly. He hears Seokjin’s muffled sound even despite the three layers of fabric over his mouth. “Prettiest,” His thumb presses on Seokjin’s hipbone, gently holding him in place. His lips ghost against the side of his dick, sucks a kiss just under its head.

He looks up when both of Seokjin’s hands grip his hair to find out he’s shoved the fabric of the sweater in his mouth to prevent it from falling. “Don’t drop it,” He warns. Seokjin shakes his head. “Cute.”

Seokjin’s eyes flutter shut when Namjoon finally wraps his hand around him, stroking slowly him. Seokjin’s fingers are flexing into his hair, making Namjoon realise how hard Seokjin is fighting not to move. He sticks his tongue out, leaning in so the tip of Seokjin’s dick push against it with every stroke. Seokjin whimpers audibly through the cloth in his mouth. His hips twitch under Namjoon’s hold and Namjoon answers by pressing down on the hickey on his hip, hard enough that it makes him stop instantly.

Seokjin moans again and opens his eyes to look at Namjoon, just in time to see him lick his lips and press the head of his dick against them, pushing slowly so he can see them open for him. As soon as his lips are wrapped around him Namjoon takes the opportunity to let go of his cock, leaving his hand free to roam up his body until he reaches Seokjin’s exposed nipple to drag the pad of his thumb over it. Seokjin’s hips buck up again and this time Namjoon accepts it; encourages it, even, with a gentle shove of his palm against the small of his back.

Though he loves every single kind of sexual encounter he has with Seokjin, his favourite is definitely slow morning sex, if only because late mornings are so hard to catch with a life like theirs. And this, right now, with Seokjin still sleepy and thrusting into his mouth gently, is the closest thing he’s had from a slow morning with Seokjin in a while.He pushes both his hands against Seokjin’s back, under the sweater; his skin is warm there and so soft, as is every parts of him.

Seokjin’s half opened eyes are on him and the fabric of the sweater is getting darker with spit where it’s clamped between his teeth. He pushes back Namjoon’s bang with one hand, the other rubbing his temple. He teases the corner of Namjoon’s mouth with the tip of his thumb, like he’s contemplating pushing it inside alongside his dick and the thought makes Namjoon moans around him, embarrassingly loud. It makes Seokjin stutter in turn, his cock slipping from Namjoon’s mouth. He takes his hand off Namjoon’s hair immediately, guiding it back in his mouth and Namjoon curls his tongue around it, dragging another moan out of Seokjin.

Seokjin’s eyes never leave his’, even when he struggles to keep a rhythm, even when Namjoon closes his’ and flexes his hands against his back, urging him to go harder. He watches Namjoon as he thrusts sloppily in his mouth and even as he comes, holding fiercely onto his hair. “Love you,” He mumbles around the sweater in his mouth, thumbing gently at the corner of Namjoon’s eyes to collect the tears in his eyelashes. Namjoon lets him ride his high until he starts whining and immediately attacks his thigh when he releases him, leaving yet another mark on his skin. He’s panting against him, nose rubbing against his hip bone, kissing whatever parts of his skin he can reach.

“Thank you hyung,” He says before sucking another mark right on the jointure between hip and thigh. “I love you too.”

Seokjin pulls him up by the hold he has on his hair, finally releasing the fabric from his mouth to kiss him slowly, more spit and tongue than elegance. “Want me to take care of you?” He asks when it’s just their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling together and his hand on Namjoon’s dick. Namjoon shakes his head and grabs the bottom of Seokjin’s sweater, pushing it up again.

“Just stay like that one more moment, yeah?” Seokjin nods with a fond exasperated sigh, letting Namjoon shoves his own jeans down and pushing his hips against the skin he just marked up, still slick with spit. Seokjin kisses his neck lazily while Namjoon ruts against him two, three times and comes embarrassignly fast, whining in his hair.

“That’s a little bit disgusting,” Seokjin remarks quietly, rubbing Namjoon’s back as he does. Namjoon nods his agreement against his cheek. “You better have something to clean me up.”

“Can’t you stay like that?” Namjoon whines just so Seokjin can scold him.

“Yes, you little animal,” Seokjin says, a hint of laugher in his voice. “I will spend ten hours in a plane covered in come. Might even walk in front of cameras like that, too.” He laughs for real when a light groan leaves Namjoon’s mouth. “Come on, now! Clean me up!”

With another groan Namjoon leaves the warmth of his arms to search for the wipes he always keep in his bag, unscented because he once brought some that smelled like talc once and Seokjin complained the whole day about smelling like a baby. He gets one ready but spaces out at the sight of Seokjin in front of him, covered in marks. He knows he blushes then, copying Seokjin’s embarrassed expression, but the scene is too pretty to erase immediately. He snaps out of his trance only when Seokjin calls for him, complaining about how cold and sticky he feels.

“Sorry,” He says, pressing a quick kiss to his lips (A longer one would be too dangerous, as it would make it too easy to forget about the task at hand.). Seokjin shivers when he runs the cold wipe on his skin gently. “You looked too pretty, couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re not allowed to apologise when you’ve just sucked the soul out of me,” Seokjin laughs, nuzzling their noses together. “I just look so good you can’t resist me, right?”

“Right, hyung.” He wants his answer to show irony but he sounds incredibly fond instead, definitely whipped for the man in his arms.

“Hyung is always right,” Seokjin says, yawning once again in his face. “Thank you Namjoonie. I’m going to sleep so well in the plane thanks to you.”

“Happy to serve,” Namjoon answers. Once again the words he wished sounded dry just ring true instead. He’s happy to serve. Always ready to drop anything at Seokjin’s call. “Love you.”

He thinks about his initial shame, about how embarrassed he was to drag Seokjin with him in a place that’s so beneath what he deserves. Another day he’d linger on that, maybe, but today he doesn’t. Today he can only think about the way Seokjin transcends all places and times. About how Seokjin makes airport toilets a palace, and a few stolen minutes an eternity.

“I love you so much.”

He thinks about the way Seokjin turned his life into a thing of love.

“I love you too, always.”