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You Are Temptation (All I Desire)

Chapter Text

DISPATCH 7TH SEPTEMBER 2019

BTS SUGA HOMOSEXUALITY RUMOURS

 

A photograph has emerged that appears to depict Bangtan Sonyeondan’s Suga inside a Seoul nightclub for homosexuals. 

 

This photograph comes exclusively from a reliable source — an informant who has worked for Dispatch News Outlet previously — but who wishes to remain anonymous and will be referred to as Mr K for all intents and purposes.

 

At 11pm on Friday 6th September, Suga was seen by Mr K to be entering the club. Upon following him, Mr K discovered Suga to be drinking with friends and dancing in what has been described as a ‘provocative manner’ with an unidentified male.

 

This discovery fuels rumours that Suga is a homosexual and comes just weeks after he denied being in a relationship with singer and actress Kim Dasom. Whether this was a deliberate bold move in order to reveal his true sexuality or merely a careless misstep, we do not yet know. Dispatch approached BigHit Entertainment but they refused to comment on the situation.

Chapter Text

Yoongi rolls over in bed, groaning as he reaches for his phone to switch off the alarm. Eyes bleary, he searches around for Taehyung, who he finds isn’t in his usual spot pressed against Yoongi’s back, calm washing over him when he sees the younger man standing in the doorway to the en suite bathroom, a towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Rivulets of water meander down his lean torso, olive skin glowing in the morning light dripping through the window like honey. Yoongi hasn’t failed to notice how Taehyung has gained weight over the last few months, tummy sticking out a little and cheeks fuller. He looks all the more beautiful for it, a fresh gleam to his eyes that sets off a million fireworks in Yoongi’s heart, making him wonder how he ever got so lucky. It’s in moments like these that Yoongi feels he can almost taste the life he’s always been too afraid to dream of. Everything feels so domestic, a warm haze of comfort enveloping them both like cotton wool, shielding them from everything beyond the four walls of their bedroom. (And he knows what the tabloids are saying about him. He knows what everyone suspects. But he’s finding more and more that he doesn’t care.) 

For a while, they can forget their status, who they are. They can ignore the fact that they’re BTS’ Suga and V and simply be Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung. 

The vacation thus far has been kind to them, healing their aching muscles, quieting their busy minds and giving them time to rest. With the other members away on various travels, the apartment is theirs for the next few weeks and Yoongi would very much like to take full advantage of that. But Taehyung enjoys teasing him too much. In truth, it is precisely sex on Yoongi’s mind as he looks at Taehyung, his entire body helpfully exposed thanks to the fact he’s drying his hair with the towel that was previously around his waist. Taehyung has kept him in a chastity cage for more than three weeks now and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it, getting increasingly needy by the day, desperate for reprieve and release.

“Awh, my baby’s awake?” Taehyung coos and Yoongi grumbles, looking away, cheeks dusted with pink. Though he’d be the last one to admit it, there’s something inexplicably comfortable about being Taehyung’s. Knowing the younger man will take care of him makes Yoongi feel so protected and just so safe; he’s Taehyung’s baby and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Seeing the way Yoongi shifts beneath his gaze, Taehyung beckons him over with a tilt of his head, smile wide, warm and filled with affection. He pulls the shorter man into a tight hug, pressing kisses into his hair and just holding him for a while, knowing Yoongi craves this sort of intimacy — physical touch. A contented sigh slips past Yoongi’s lips as he melts into the embrace and slowly starts to rut his hips on Taehyung’s bare thigh, who stiffens immediately but does nothing. Yoongi thrusts a little harder, his actions now unmistakable. Suddenly, as if something inside him has snapped, Taehyung lifts Yoongi’s chin to look at him. “Baby, what are you doing?” There’s a warning tone to his voice, something that tells Yoongi to tread carefully; it’s dangerous to rile Taehyung up like this. Dangerously thrilling.

Yoongi just blushes, fingers dancing on his boyfriend’s chest, drawing little patterns and averting his gaze. “Nothing.”

Taehyung smiles smugly, humming. “Oh, really?” It’s a loaded question, no doubt about it, gravelly tone laced with exhortation. Yoongi just nods, burying his face into Taehyung’s chest once again and inhaling the scent that is so utterly him. “Because it seems to me like you’re being greedy.” Yoongi shivers at his tone. “And what a shame that would be, I was planning on rewarding you today for being so good with your little cock all caged. But if you’re being like this…” 

Swallowing hard and wanting nothing more than to be absolutely ruined by Taehyung, Yoongi musters up the most innocent expression he can, doe eyes wide. “N-No,” his cheeks flush red at how gone he sounds, already desperate despite barely being touched. “I am good. I-I promise, I wasn’t… I just want...” Taehyung regards him with scrutiny, easily seeing through his insistences that he hadn’t done anything.

“What is it you want, baby?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, instead choosing to whine lowly, pouting.

“Come on, this isn’t how good boys behave, is it?” Yoongi’s cock twitches in his sweatpants, precum creating a small wet patch on the grey fabric. “Use your words.”

“I want… I want you to touch me.”

Taehyung chuckles, “What’s the magic word, baby? I wanna hear you beg for it.”

Yoongi is burning with shame, squirming under Taehyung’s gaze as his cock twitches again, trying and failing to get hard. “Please touch me, sir. I-I’ve been good, I’ve been so g—” Taehyung squeezes Yoongi’s cock through his pants, forcing a moan from the elder, who can no longer finish what he’s saying.

“You’re not being good though, are you? You’re being a slut. You’re not even patient enough to wait until I give you permission to get off, humping my leg like a bitch.” He tuts disapprovingly, arching a brow when Yoongi just whimpers in submission.

“Please, sir, I-I can be good, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it…” Yoongi’s mind is fuzzy, the familiar haze of subspace creeping up on him. He gives into it easily, enjoying the feeling of handing over control.

Taehyung’s gaze softens as he sees Yoongi’s eyes are watery with the beginnings of tears and he brings up a hand to wipe them away, kissing his cheeks. “It’s okay, baby, shhh,” Yoongi sniffles but smiles. “What’s your colour, hmm?”

“Green, please, I’m good. I just, please.”

“Alright, baby, go get on the bed and take your clothes off. I’ll be through in a minute.”

Yoongi grins shyly, eagerly making his way back into their room, Taehyung closing the bathroom door behind him. There’s no real reason to do so, the younger man being just as enthusiastic as his boyfriend, but he wants to build the tension a little more and have Yoongi even more desperate than he is now.

Procuring a rope from the wardrobe, Taehyung approaches the bed, where Yoongi is lying on his stomach and grinding his hips lightly into the mattress, lips parted in satisfaction.

“Does my dumb baby wanna cum?” Taehyung’s voice cuts through the silence of the room, making Yoongi’s head whip round as he stills his movements immediately. Yoongi can only nod, cutely mumbling something about being a good boy, mind lost to the rush of submission. “Give me your hands, Yoon.” The lack of honorifics makes Yoongi feel so utterly small that he forgets how to breathe for a moment, to the point where Taehyung takes it upon himself to reach for the milky skin of his boyfriend’s arms. He ties the red rope in pretty patterns which span Yoongi’s forearms, twisting them behind him, and then over his chest, forming a star below his throat.

“On your back, baby.” Yoongi scrambles to carry out the order. “Good boy.” Taehyung revels in the way that Yoongi’s hips jolt up off the bed at that, his hands tied uncomfortably underneath him as he whimpers at the words. “Baby wants his little cock played with, huh?” Yoongi nods enthusiastically, practically delirious from weeks of teasing but no release. “Hmm... I’m not sure you’re even capable of cumming anymore, your cock is so tiny and useless, barely there.” 

Yoongi lets out a loud moan as Taehyung flicks the plastic of the cage encasing his dick, precum dribbling out in a pathetic attempt at getting hard. “Pl-Please,” he gasps, Taehyung pressing his forefinger into the slit, collecting the precum from the angry red tip of Yoongi’s cock and bringing it to his mouth, sucking it off as casually as if it were fruit juice. “Please what, baby?”

Yoongi flushes a deep crimson as little moans bubble past his lips, humiliated as Taehyung continues to flick at his caged cock. “You have to tell me what you want or I won’t know, baby. You want me to put your clothes back on and we can go out for lunch with Namjoon hyung? Maybe then he could see how much of a desperate slut you are as I play with your pathetic, tiny cock under the table, huh? Wouldn’t that be fun? Oh, I’d love to watch you squirm as you struggle to keep in your little whines.” He laughs dryly as if the thought of Yoongi embarrassing himself amuses him.

“N-No, please,” Yoongi’s voice shakes as he chokes on a sob. “Please, sir, n-need to cum. Need you to touch me, p-please.” 

Taehyung pretends to be thoughtful for a moment. “Hmm... I suppose I could allow that...”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, blinking away the tears that have begun to form there, his dark lashes now glistening. “Thank you, thank you...” he’s mumbling nonsense, unable to form coherent sentences with the need burning inside him.

“What are you thanking me for, hmm? I haven’t explained how things are going to work yet.” Taehyung’s voice is low and harsh, each word going straight to Yoongi’s crotch. 

Yoongi’s heart hammers in his chest as he wonders what that could even mean. All he wants — needs — is to cum. His cock aches with how much he craves release, throbbing painfully against the plastic as another glob of precum leaks out. He doesn’t know if he can physically take any more teasing.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen — you’re gonna stay locked up.” Yoongi releases a whine, swallowing hard. Taehyung just tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t be a brat. I’m gonna set a timer for two minutes and you’re gonna fuck into your cock sleeve like a good little whore. You can prove that your pathetic, tiny dick is actually worth my time. If you cum then you’ll get a reward but if you don’t... well, we’ll have to keep you caged for another week, won’t we?” He brings a finger to rest underneath Yoongi’s chin, tilting it up a little as if he’s surveying the elder and gauging his reaction. More tears fall from Yoongi’s eyes and Taehyung wipes them away, kissing his cheeks. The small act of kindness reveals that all this humiliation is just a façade. “Colour?”

“G-Green,” Yoongi whimpers, turning his blushing face away from Taehyung, who grips his chin harshly and pulls it back towards him. 

“Look at me, slut! I told you. Not. To. Be. A. Brat.” Each word is punctuated by Taehyung tightening his grip, lifting Yoongi’s head off the pillow slightly more and then slamming it back down with the final word. “God, you’re so annoying. What kind of a whore are you, anyway? You can’t even follow the most basic instructions. I may as well get a sex doll — they don’t talk back or misbehave.” 

“I’ll be good, sir, I’ll be so good for you, just, fuck, please. I promise I’ll be good...” Yoongi slurs his words, subconsciously canting his hips upwards in a desperate yet fruitless search for friction. He’s delirious, head floating somewhere altogether different; it feels so good to relinquish control.

Meanwhile, Taehyung has gone to the other side of the room to collect the clear fleshlight and lube that sits atop the dressing table. He climbs back onto the bed, straddling Yoongi’s thighs to keep him from squirming and, with featherlight touches, Taehyung drags his blunt nails up and down the milky skin of Yoongi’s legs, causing the older boy to shiver under his touch. He squeezes a generous amount into the cock sleeve and even more into the cage, Yoongi whining at the cold liquid dripping onto his purpling dick, any sort of stimulation causing his nerves to go haywire. 

Taehyung reaches for his phone from the bedside table, setting a timer and showing the quivering boy the screen. “You gonna be a good boy for me, baby?” Yoongi can only nod frantically. “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes what, baby?”

Yoongi feels his cheeks heating up, crimson dusting them as he squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. “Gonna be good for you, sir, gonna be your perfect...”

“My perfect what?”

“Y-Your perfect s-slut.” 

Taehyung coos as he takes in the sight of Yoongi looking so utterly ruined beneath him — body quivering in anticipation, face flushed and wet with tears, lips shiny with saliva, throbbing cock beading with precum — he looks utterly delectable. “My perfect slut, hmm?” Taehyung lowers the sleeve onto Yoongi’s twitching, caged cock, ripping a high-pitched moan from the elder. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Reaching beside him for his phone, he starts the timer.

For a few moments, Yoongi just lies there, dumbfounded, eyes wide and begging for instruction. Taehyung’s expression is hard and unreadable; he cocks his head as if daring Yoongi to speak before glancing down at his phone and tutting. “30 seconds are already gone, baby. Don’t you want to cum?”

“S-Sir, please...” He looks lost, the stimulation feeling so good but not enough. Taehyung still doesn’t talk to him, simply glancing at his phone, the numbers ticking down rapidly.

Gingerly, Yoongi shifts his hips slightly, unsure of how to fuck the cock sleeve whilst his arms are beneath him; the angle is unsatisfying and his caged cock barely fills a quarter of it. “That’s it, baby. One minute left.” 

With time slipping through his fingers, Yoongi lets out a shaky moan, thrusting more forcefully now in a desperate attempt to get off. He’s a writhing mess, unable to coordinate himself, so instead he resorts to gripping the sheets tighter beneath him, arms aching deliciously from being bound and squashed beneath him, and canting his hips up senselessly.

Just as he feels his release creeping up on him, inadequate as it would be, the blaring of the alarm goes off and Taehyung is taking the fleshlight away. Immediately, more tears spring to Yoongi’s eyes and he arches his back, a strangled cry forcing its way out of his throat as he is unable to stop himself from orgasming dry, the chastity cage preventing him from getting any real reprieve. He can’t help himself from rolling onto his side, pelvis jerking uncontrollably with the delicious pain of it all. “Oh, baby, what a shame.”

Yoongi’s eyes are blurry with tears he is unable to wipe away as he looks up in confusion at his boyfriend. “W-What?”

Taehyung’s lips curl up at the edges as if he knows something Yoongi doesn’t. “You didn’t think I’d accept that pathetic attempt, did you? Oh, you did? Not even a little dribble from that pathetic cock of yours, baby. Useless.”

“Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I’ll make it better. Use my mouth.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow as if he’s waiting for more. “Please can you use my mouth, sir?”

”Well, since you asked so nicely, baby.” Taehyung has been neglecting his cock in favour of teasing Yoongi and it hangs heavy, flushed and straining for friction. He straddles Yoongi’s bound chest, placing a hand beneath his head and lifting it to meet his crotch, and places the head at Yoongi’s mouth. The elder man parts his lips eagerly, trying to move his head with the limited mobility Taehyung on his abdomen allows him. As if taunting him, Taehyung thrusts sharply, a strangled groan escaping Yoongi as he struggles to breathe, lips stretched wide to accommodate the thick girth. He runs his tongue over the head as best as he can without his hands to steady him.

Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head and he curls his hands into fists behind him, gurgling as Taehyung uses him, wrecks him. The younger man continues to thrust relentlessly into Yoongi’s mouth, moaning breathily. “What a good slut, drooling for my cock down your throat,” he growls, slowing his pace a fraction to allow Yoongi some air. The latter gasps and splutters; he barely has more time before Taehyung starts at it again, practically choking his boyfriend with his dick. “Fuck, so good for me, baby. Look so hot swallowing down my cock like a whore.” Yoongi is so turned on by his words and he wants to come so, so bad, feels like he’s never wanted anything more in his life. 

Taehyung pulls out and begins pumping his length, precum and saliva leaving Yoongi’s lips shining. He rubs his length over Yoongi’s face, relishing in the friction, the filthy slide feeling so, so good. Yoongi is limp against the edge of the bed, letting Taehyung have him as he pleases. He opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out, and closes his eyes, waiting patiently to be rewarded with cum landing on his face. And it does — some on his tongue so that he can taste what he’s been craving — but mostly on his face, white ropes painting the prettiest picture Taehyung thinks he has ever seen. “You’re my perfect slut, Yoon. Always so good for me,” he says, panting. Yoongi lets out a small, contented sigh. After a moment of respite, Taehyung moves off his boyfriend’s body, reaching to retrieve the key to the chastity cage that sits in the bedside table.

“Sir?” Yoongi’s voice is soft and quiet, a clear indicator he is deep in the throes of subspace. 

“Yes, baby, what is it?” Taehyung turns to look at his boyfriend, whose eyes are still shut, mouth also now closed and lips turned up into a smile. 

“I-I… Could you maybe… Could you, um, steponmycock?” The last part is rushed and almost indecipherable, the tips of his ears flushed as red as the rope still binding him. His eyes are round and dark with lust, a heat simmering under the surface that Taehyung can’t wait to release. 

“What was that? You want me to step on your cute little cock? Was that it, huh?”

Yoongi nods, shame coursing through him as he presses his thighs together. “Yes, sir. Please.”

“Let’s get you out of that cage then, baby.”

“Thank you, sir, thank you.”

With tender touches, Taehyung takes Yoongi’s sensitive cock out of the chastity cage and then moves on to the rope, untying it and admiring the marks it has left behind. He leans down to attach his lips to Yoongi’s, drying cum still covering his face but Taehyung ignoring this in favour of wanting to taste his boyfriend. “On the floor, baby.” Yoongi scrambles to the carpeted floor, cock fully hard and throbbing by now, so sensitive that even the cold air on it makes him shiver with the need to cum. 

“What a whore, giving yourself up to me so easily, lying on your back and begging me to crush your tiny cock under my foot. Is that what you want, baby? You want me to make you hurt, make you cry?” He places his bare foot so that it hovers just above Yoongi’s length, tantalisingly close but not where it’s wanted most. Slowly, he presses down, applying slight pressure to Yoongi’s balls with his heel. The older man’s hips buck upwards, desperate to chase the feeling, but Taehyung pulls away as soon as he does so, Yoongi whining in frustration. “Is this not good enough for you, huh? My little slut is so greedy he can’t just take what he’s given, he needs more, is that it?” Yoongi shakes his head vehemently. “Good boys are patient and good boys get to cum. Stay still, no touching. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse and comes out as a meek whisper. His body is practically vibrating with excitement, something inexplicably thrilling in having Taehyung stand over him like this; it makes him feel so small, so powerless.

Taehyung presses back down on Yoongi’s cock, this time covering it in its (small) entirety; even hard, it can’t be more than three inches and Taehyung’s foot is easily twice or thrice its length. Yoongi whimpers, pliant as Taehyung has his way with him, treating him like the little fucktoy he knows he’s made to be. As fast as the sensation arrives, it’s gone, Taehyung alternating between painful pressure and tantalising distance. Yoongi could cry with how much he needs this, how much he aches for it.

“C-Close, sir.” Yoongi arches his back, chasing the feeling despite prior instructions. Immediately, Taehyung removes his foot, instead placing it on Yoongi’s thigh, tracing his toes up and down so close to where Yoongi wants it most but never quite giving it to him. He strokes up to the older man’s stomach, grazing his navel before travelling further upward to his flushed chest, brushing over a nipple. Yoongi shivers, cock twitching and dribbling thick globs of precum below his belly button.

“You’re so wet, baby, all from a bit of teasing.” Yoongi burns red in shame, loving the humiliation of it all, of being laid out so bare in front of Taehyung. “You see, this is why I never let you fuck me. Your cock is so small and far too sensitive to actually make me feel good. You cum too fast, don’t you, baby? That’s why I have to teach you to be patient.” It’s at this moment that he steps back into Yoongi’s cock, ripping a whine from him as he begins spilling cum, shuddering with the force of the pleasure, at finally getting what he’s craved for so long. He feels dizzy with it — euphoric even — until Taehyung removes his foot and begins to tut, looking disapprovingly down at him. 

“Oh dear, look at the mess your useless cock has made all over me. Pathetic slut, clean me up.” Mind still hazy from the orgasm, Yoongi just looks confusedly up into Taehyung’s hard stare for a while before Taehyung gets bored of waiting and thrusts his foot at Yoongi’s face, the older yelping in surprise but opening his mouth obediently nevertheless. The cum is salty on his tongue and unpleasantly tepid yet somehow the entire thing is arousing, the way he’s forced to do as he’s told, take what he’s given, be Taehyung’s perfect doll. 

He whines around it, tongue lolling out in a desperate attempt to be good, to be worthy of Taehyung’s praise. “Good boy, always such a good boy for sir.” Taehyung removes his foot from Yoongi’s drooling mouth and smiles down at his ruined expression. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, scrabbling to climb onto Taehyung’s lap, the younger man now perched on the bed. For a few minutes, they just sit there, content in each other’s presence, their chests rising and falling in sync and breaths intermingling. “Was Yoonie a good boy for sir?” Yoongi’s round eyes shine, up at Taehyung like he’d do anything to please, to be told he’s good enough, and Taehyung thinks he really would do anything.

“Of course, baby. You’re always my good boy.” A moment of silence. “Yoon? I’ve gotta get a bath ready, okay?”

“Please stay,” Yoongi’s voice is so weak and small that Taehyung just melts with the overwhelming feeling that he just has to protect him, shield him, care for him; his public image is so confident and blunt that it’s easy to forget just how delicate and fragile he really is.

“I need to get you clean, baby. I’ll come straight back, I promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” Yoongi holds out his finger.

Taehyung smiles at the innocence that comes over Yoongi in times like this; it’s so pure and naïve that it’s hard to believe the things that were coming out of his mouth only a few minutes before. He grasps his boyfriend’s little finger with his own larger one, intertwining them and pressing a kiss to the point where they join, just the way that he knows Yoongi likes; he says it makes it special with a kiss, that it makes it real. And Taehyung agrees.

 

Chapter Text

DISPATCH 28TH SEPTEMBER 2019

BREAKING: BTS SUGA AND V COUPLE EXPOSED

 

Bangtan Sonyeondan’s Suga and V are embroiled in a dating scandal after Dispatch News Outlet reporters captured photographs of the pair sharing a passionate kiss outside their apartment in Hannam-dong on Friday evening.

 

After initially breaking the news in an SNS post last night as the photos were taken, Dispatch News Outlet interviewed fans of the band this morning to get their take on the situation. One young girl commented:

 

“I feel I cannot support Bangtan after this, it’s too heartbreaking. It’s like I don’t know them anymore. [...] It’s weird because you think you know your idols so well, like a boyfriend, and then they do something like this and betray you. I’m here to tell everyone that your idols aren’t who you think they are.”

 

In fact, many fans seem equally distressed with the news, some even choosing to deny it. Messages written on the Dispatch News Outlet official SNS accounts are accusatory, some even threatening. Is the true nature of ARMY finally being revealed? Will this be the downfall of the so-called ‘nation’s boyband’? 

 

More news to come as this story progresses.



Chapter Text

“Namjoon is flying back from Vienna right now, he wants to discuss where we go from here,” Yoongi sighs, brow furrowed in discomfort at the entire situation. The silence that stretches between them is stifling, Yoongi’s eyes flitting from Taehyung’s empty ones to the floor. “How did we get here, Tae?” Taehyung’s face remains blank, seemingly void of all thought. In fact, he hasn’t spoken since the news broke. His expression is stormy, not in the usual pensive way, not in the way that lights up his eyes with enlivened lightning. No, this is different. There’s only darkness like thick, black clouds rolling in along the horizon. This isn’t the kind of storm when you’re safely inside, tucked in bed and lulled to sleep with the pitter-patter of rain; this is the kind of storm that destroys .

 

The morning has been spent crying, filled with quiet tears and painful silences. Hoseok and Jimin are home, have been since the exposé. Even they can admit there’s no easy way out of this, their usually hopeful demeanours reduced to cynicism. At first, they’d been angry, had admonished the two for being so careless, for letting their guard down. But now there’s only sympathy, mutual sorrow and the realisation that they have to face this together as a united front.

 

Today is to be filled with meetings to determine what the outcome of this would be for Taehyung and Yoongi, for their careers, for the future of the group. And it terrifies them all. Considering that this may be the end of Bangtan is unthinkable, unbearable to the point where Yoongi isn’t even acknowledging it as an option, is just silently telling himself that everything will be fine and that it will all blow over soon. He knows it won’t. There’s far too much at stake for this to be an easy fix, for this to all simply blow over. All seven of them know that nothing about this situation is simple.

 

The car ride to the BigHit Entertainment building is quiet, uncomfortably so. Yoongi and Taehyung sit in the back, Namjoon riding shotgun, with Manager Sejin driving. Yoongi reaches out a hand, placing it on Taehyung’s knee. The younger man flinches at the touch, glancing down but not acknowledging the action. Yoongi just looks away sadly. Namjoon, being the positive person he is, tries to start a conversation but it fizzles out quickly, his questions only earning a few noncommittal noises from the men in the back.

 

On any given day, Yoongi finds the company building fairly welcoming, the staff always politely greeting him, some even blushing as he walks by. But not today. Today, people stare. And it’s not because they like him or they’re starstruck; it’s clearly because they all know . They pass some trainees on their way to the meeting rooms, the young boys averting their eyes as Yoongi and Taehyung pass by and though it’s more than likely out of respect, Yoongi can only perceive it as disgust. All he wants is to reach out and grab Taehyung’s hand but something stops him, tells him Taehyung won’t be comfortable with it. So he doesn’t. His hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt instead.

 

As soon as he’s inside the meeting room, Yoongi feels his chest tighten, the pairs of beady eyes burning him as he bows, quietly saying hello, lips pulled into a forced smile. Taehyung does the same, his acting only marginally better than Yoongi’s. Namjoon, on the other hand, doesn’t say anything, looking stonily at every single one of the staff members as if he’s memorising every detail of their faces; it’s a terrifying contrast to the well-mannered, placid man he usually is. All the softness he usually possesses is nowhere to be found, replaced with a coldness that seems out of place on his kind features. Yoongi seats himself first, looking to Taehyung in expectation that he’ll sit next to him, even lifts his hand slightly to motion him over, but Taehyung leaves a gap, Namjoon sitting between them. It hurts more than it should.

 

“I’m sure it’s clear to everyone why we are here but I’ll outline the facts in case anyone isn’t fully clued up,” an older man begins. He’s wearing glasses with small lenses that Yoongi notes make his face look all pinched, this effect only emphasised by the way his irritation causes his brow to crease. “These photos,” he presses a button on a remote, bringing up the images on a large screen at one end of the room. Yoongi senses Taehyung stiffen. “Will deeply impact both Yoongi-ssi and Taehyung-ssi, as well as Bangtan as a whole and, by extension, will taint the image of BigHit Entertainment. In light of his unfortunate absence from this meeting, which could not be avoided due to schedule conflicts, Bang PD-nim has instructed me to come to an agreement with the two parties involved, with the help of Namjoon-ssi, as leader of the group.”

 

There’s not a hint of emotion in Namjoon’s voice when he asks, “And you are?” If Yoongi wasn’t so scared, he’d probably laugh at the bluntness of it.

 

“Choi Byungho, PR and social director.” Namjoon just hums.

 

“So, I think the first thing we need to address is if there's a reason for us to be concerned,” a woman asks. She’s direct but looks sympathetically towards them, pity in her eyes. “Yoongi-ssi, taehyung-ssi, are you a couple?” Yoongi’s mouth goes dry, throat constricting and preventing any words from coming out. He knew this question would come up and yet now that it has he doesn’t know what to say, can’t even begin to articulate his thoughts.

 

But he doesn’t have to because Taehyung does it for him. “No. It was just a mistake. It won’t happen again.” Yoongi freezes, not even breathing for a few seconds as he processes what his boyfriend just said. Unable to hold it back, he lets out a choked squeak, hand rushing to his mouth to quiet himself but it’s too late and everyone heard and, god , everyone is staring at him.

 

“Yoongi-ssi, would you agree that it was a mistake?” Byungho is speaking again and it takes all of Yoongi’s self control not to scream at him, to scream at all of them. It’s all he can do to nod in response, bowing his head to hide his watery eyes. Namjoon nudges his leg under the table, knocking their knees together in a silent bid to check if he’s okay. Yoongi wipes his eyes as subtly as is possible with numerous pairs of judging eyes staring at him and manages a wobbly smile at Namjoon, who places a hand on his thigh and squeezes reassuringly. It’s only a small action but it grounds Yoongi, reminding him of just how understanding and caring the younger man really is.

 

Namjoon clears his throat. “What are we going to tell the tabloids?”

 

“How about we get the actual story of what happened and then we can make a decision on how much of it is salvagable for the media?” A different woman remarks snidely, looking as if she’s mentally counting down the minutes until this meeting will be over. Yoongi can’t really blame her; he’s doing the exact same thing.

 

“They don’t have to—” Namjoon begins but is cut off by Taehyung.

 

“We were drunk… and confused. I thought he was my ex girlfriend and I kissed him. Yoongi hyung didn’t kiss back, he didn’t want to kiss me in the first place, I just did it. So, yeah, it was a massive fuck up and I’m sorry and it’s my fault, okay? Whatever you tell the tabloids, please try to leave Yoongi hyung out of it as much as possible. Tell them it was all my fault, that’s the truth of it.” He puts his head in his hands and Yoongi can’t be sure whether he’s hiding tears or just exhausted of the entire thing. 

 

“Sadly, it’s not that simple, Taehyung-ssi. Both of you are implicated in this and it will reflect on the entire group no matter what.” It’s the sympathetic woman again, her voice laced with a certain sadness that Yoongi can’t quite place. “But thank you for your honesty.” Ironic.

 

“How can we spin this to paint them in an okay light? It’s a given that we'll lose a good chunk of the fanbase but we can limit the damage and keep our brand deals in tact if we play this right. We need sympathy.” Byungho stands up, making his way over to a whiteboard that sits opposite the head of the table, where he was previously seated. In block capitals, he writes ‘NO HOMO COVER STORIES’. Yoongi cringes at the wording, Namjoon apparently having the same opinion because he speaks up.

 

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t perpetuate a ridiculous and, not to mention, homophobic rhetoric, Byungho-ssi.” He looks fairly composed from an outside perspective but Yoongi can tell from the way he tightens his grip on his thigh that he’s seething with rage at the blatant disrespect and lack of professionalism displayed by someone they’re supposed to be looking to for guidance. “We should be taking this seriously and thinking of solutions. Now do your job.” The room is silent for a few seconds at Namjoon’s calm yet venomous outburst. As much as Yoongi despises this entire situation, he can’t help but feel a shred of satisfaction at the words and lets his frown momentarily fall off his face in place of a blank expression.

 

“You want to do my job? You think it’s easy cleaning up your messes? Do I need to remind you who avoided a scandal when you , Kim Namjoon, were seen smoking a joint? Or how about when Jimin gave that one bitch his personal phone number and she started stalking him, huh? I am the one who has saved your asses over and over . So don’t tell me what I can and cannot say. Are we clear?” Namjoon’s expression is unreadable as he stands, walks towards the whiteboard and rubs off the writing.

 

“Byungho-ssi, I keep you in a job. Don’t forget that. When I ask you not to be disrespectful, you do it. I don’t care who you are.” Byungho doesn’t say anything more, turning to the board and writing a single word: ‘alcoholism’. Namjoon snorts incredulously but Taehyung speaks up before he can dispute it.

 

“Let’s hear him out, this seems like a good idea.” Yoongi can’t believe what he’s hearing, his heart shattering in his chest at the thought of using something like this as a tool in their deception. Everything inside of him, all his instincts, tell him to come clean about their relationship, whatever the consequences of that many be. He can feel himself getting angry, a rage that he rarely feels simmering in the pit of his stomach.

 

Byungho goes on, “Thank you, Taehyung-ssi, I’m glad someone here appreciates my work.” He laughs at himself, everyone else’s faces blank. “Yes, well, I think this is our only option at this point. There’s obviously no way that we can simply tell the truth, that would paint you as irresponsible and immature. But if we tell the public you’re both struggling with alcoholism due to the high pressure nature of your job, we can avoid a dating scandal without involving any illegal activity. You can both take a few months of hiatus to reflect, go to ‘AA meetings’ and ‘rehab’, when in reality you can be working on new music for up and coming groups. You can compose, produce and write their debut songs so that BigHit will have copyright claims and this way we can maintain the net worth of the company. It’s as good of a solution as we’ll get.”

 

There’s quiet for a moment. Then Taehyung speaks again. “Okay. I’ll do it.” Namjoon hums in reluctant agreement.

 

“Yoongi-ssi?” Byungho’s smile is too sickly sweet to be genuine. Yoongi can’t even process what he’s saying, needing to escape. So he does. Breathing ragged and tears finally streaming down his face after an hour of holding them in, he bolts out of the room, down the stairs and into the cold air. He winces as the door closes behind him, knowing Taehyung will be disappointed on the other side of it. His heart aches but simultaneously burns with rage at himself, the situation and, most of all, that god awful PR team. Rationally, he knows it’s not their fault, that they’re just trying to do their jobs, even Byungho, as terrible as he is, but their bluntness hurts , Yoongi feeling it even now as he walks out. To be confronted with the awful reality of the situation like this, in front of his colleagues, his friends, is completely humiliating and demoralising. He’s not sure where he’s going or what he’ll do but he just needs to be away ; he needs to be away from that meeting room, away from the staff and, as much as he hates to admit it, away from Taehyung.

 

Though it’s only September, the wind is bitingly cold, gnawing at Yoongi’s fingers and turning them pink, his face and ears undoubtedly taking up the same flush (but with anger or chill, he can’t be sure). He belatedly realises he didn’t pick up his coat on the way out, body only covered in a black sweatshirt — Taehyung’s, he reminds himself — which is deceptively thin and allows the blustering gale to numb his torso. He begins to feel silly in his Kumamon mask and matching cap, the humour in it gone as soon as he left Taehyung behind, but he knows he can’t remove them in case he is recognised, which, he ponders, is considerably likely at morning rush hour in the largest city in the country. But he discovers he doesn’t particularly care. He can’t seem to find it within himself to do so. The streets are busy and nobody takes notice of him, anyway, all far too absorbed in going about their business, whatever that may be. Nobody is expecting to see him there so they simply don’t. 

 

He only stays out for a short while, knowing that he’ll only be sought after and worried about if he’s gone for too long. But in that time, brief as it is, he reaches the conclusion that he’ll put his career — their careers — before his feelings, real as they may be. As long as they go along with the story the company has fabricated, everything will be fine. Or at least as fine as it possibly can be, given the circumstances they’ve found themselves in. And he still can’t quite believe it, can’t believe that Taehyung lied so easily, the words dripping off his tongue so casually that Yoongi probably would’ve believed he was telling the truth if he hadn’t been the one doing the kissing. He finds he doesn’t want to go home as he drags his feet towards the street corner, Sejin on the phone informing him he’s sent a car. It’s a scary feeling because it’s one he’s never experienced before. Even when they had absolutely nothing, were sleeping on the floor in the single room they had to their name, he never felt unsafe around the others. They’re his family. But he doesn’t want to go home. He’s scared of what their faces will tell him despite how kind their words may be. Most of all, he’s scared of facing the reality of ending things with Taehyung. 

 

He doesn’t say a word as he slips through the door, though Namjoon calls for him. He goes straight to his room, a place he hasn’t slept in months, and climbs into bed, unable to feel anything but numbness.

 

***

 

Yoongi’s pulse hammers in his ears as he wraps a hand around his length, covering it completely in a way that reminds him how tiny he is, how pathetic his little cock is, how useless. He shudders at the thought, reminded of a few days prior when Taehyung had made him piss all over himself from the overstimulation of having already cum three times, Yoongi being able to do nothing but scream and squirm as he was pushed to completion again by his favourite prostate massager. “Good sluts cum from having their holes played with, they don’t need their stupid, little cocks to get off. You’ll be my good slut, won’t you?” Yoongi had just nodded, a ruined mess.

 

Yoongi moves his hand on his cock, stroking up and down rhythmically as the memories of Taehyung’s words cloud his mind. He’s getting close so fast, not used to the indulgence of getting off when he wants to, ordinarily having to ask for permission to cum, having his orgasms drawn out and being relentlessly teased. His poor dick is overwhelmed with pleasure, red and leaking despite having only been played with for a couple of minutes. Precum dribbles out of the tip, makes the slide easier, makes him more eager to chase his release.

 

Feeling himself getting close ridiculously soon, Yoongi pulls his hand away, a task easier said than done, and whines at the loss of contact despite the fact that it was of his own accord. He sits up, grabbing his pillow and straddling it, grinding into it slowly, deeply. The feel of the fabric is different to his hand, provides more delicious friction, and, for a moment, he can imagine that it’s Taehyung’s thigh he’s humping. He imagines what his boyfriend would say to him in this moment about what a filthy whore he’s being, how dirty it is that he’s using his pillow in this way, how naughty of him to play with his cock without permission.

 

It’s then that Yoongi realises he’s crying. His hips still jolt with every movement, rutting into the pillow with a little more speed now, but he’s crying nonetheless. It’s out of sheer frustration, sadness, longing. He just wants Taehyung, clings to the idea of him, closes his eyes and visualises him next to him. He’d pet his hair, carding his delicate fingers through the messy strands, telling him how good he’s being, how much of a good little whore he is. And Yoongi would breathily reply, “Just for you, sir. Your slut.” 

 

Because it’s true, Yoongi does belong to Taehyung. With every bone in his body, every scrap of his soul, every single fucking ounce of his being. All of him screams for Taehyung. Physically, as well as metaphorically because he’s panting now, drool and tears running down his face and Taehyung’s name on his lips. That’s how he cums, hips frantic and cock an angry red, weeping. He gasps, leaning forward and biting the fabric as he shudders, spurting ropes of white onto his bare stomach and the pillow beneath him. It’s pleasurable, of course it is, but the warm feeling is short lived. The cum begins to dry on his skin, uncomfortably cold and sticky, and his breathing is ragged, both from the climax and his tears.

Chapter Text

BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT OFFICIAL STATEMENT



Hello, this is BigHit Entertainment. There has been a lot of speculation regarding images which emerged on Friday of Bangtan Sonyeondan members, Suga and V, appearing to be intimately engaged with one another. BigHit Entertainment denies rumours that the two are, have previously been or will ever be in a romantic relationship. Whilst BTS are not restricted by a dating ban, romantic relations between employees of BigHit Entertainment are strictly prohibited. 

 

Regretfully, Suga and V were under the influence of alcohol when they shared a brief kiss on Friday night. As a result of this lapse of judgement, the two will take a break from promotional activities for the foreseeable future and BTS will carry out schedules as five after their vacation is concluded. This will allow them to reflect on their mistakes and come back as better, more responsible role models. After speaking with both Suga and V, an agreement has been reached in which they will both attend a rehabilitation course for alcoholism and take classes on drinking responsibly.

 

BigHit Entertainment takes allegations such as this extremely seriously and are investigating the sources of the photographs with the intent of taking legal action against the initial perpetrators as well as anyone who posts or distributes the images.

 

We are sorry for any inconvenience, hurt or distress Suga and V may have caused ARMY and hope you will continue to cheer for BTS in the future despite this unfortunate event.