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This Place Smells Like Us

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"I'm serious!"

"You look like you're about to laugh at me."

"Because I'm happy for you," Hoseok says, still smiling. He reaches over to rub Namjoon's shoulder. "Namjoon-ah. I think it's a good decision, don't be nervous. Your back and shoulders will thank you. Especially with your heat this month, you don't want your muscles to be all knotted up going into that."

"Is that a pun?"

"What?" Hoseok blinks, seems to stop and go over his words— "Oh!" He starts laughing. "No, no, knotted in the way that isn't fun. Ah, if you can tease me like this, you'll be just fine."

"No, I know," Namjoon sighs, rolling his stiff shoulders a little under Hoseok's touch. Even on the couch it's hard to get comfortable like this after a long day at work. "I don't regret booking it, Min Yoongi is highly recommended, it's just..."

"Do you want me to go with you?" As a beta, Hoseok has a calming scent too, like the crisp, clear air just before fresh snowfall. It's always been a relief on hot summer days, just sitting with Hoseok and breathing in his scent. But it's also more— refreshing, rather than relaxing. Their friend group jokes about Hoseok being their battery, their energy, and it's true.

Namjoon gives him a grateful smile. "No, I'll be an adult about this. But thank you for offering, Hob-ah."

"It's okay to be a little nervous. But just think of how good it'll feel, right? You're doing this for your health, mental and physical." He slaps a hand over Namjoon's chest. "Mental care."

"Ahhh. Stop that."

Hoseok laughs again, but his expression is soft, maybe a little concerned. As Namjoon's roommate he knows the most about Namjoon's work stress, the toll it takes on him. Working out has always been one outlet for Namjoon, as well as the healing things he does in his personal time: bike rides, visiting galleries, reading, writing lyrics just for himself.

But he hasn't had much personal time lately. So this massage is his way of spoiling himself, highly encouraged by Seokjin, the one who recommended Yoongi to begin with.

"You'll like each other," is all Seokjin says when they're out for a meal together, refusing to elaborate.

"Hyung. At least tell me what he's like."

"Where's the fun in that?" Seokjin asks, laughing, and Namjoon lets it go.

"Hyung is right," Jungkook says. Somehow most of the food has ended up closest to him, but Jungkook just had his heat, so he's probably even hungrier than usual. Namjoon understands how it is. "You'll like Yoongi-hyung, he's cute."

Namjoon tilts his head. "Cute?"

"Oh, did I say cute?" Jungkook blinks his wide eyes, and Namjoon can't tell if it's feigned innocence or not. "I meant cool! Hyung is really cool. Does anyone want the last dumpling?"

Namjoon's brain is still a little busy with those thoughts, Cool? Cute?, but he shakes his head, smiling.

"No, Jungkook-ah, go ahead."



The front office for the massage spa is welcoming enough to calm some of Namjoon's nerves, although he has to admit, that may be partly due to the number of plants decorating the space.

The person sitting at the front desk — Kim Taehyung, a sign with a border made of smiley-face stickers reads — greets Namjoon with a gentle smile and a pleasantly deep voice. "Hello, Namjoon-ssi?"

Namjoon blinks. "Ah, yes."

"Sorry, it was a guess! You're hyung's only client for the next few hours, I hoped it was you. We have most of your information already but if you could just fill out this," Taehyung holds out a clipboard, "and Yoongi-hyung will be ready for you soon."

Namjoon takes the clipboard with both hands and nods in gratitude. Taehyung has a very charming kind of friendliness that reminds Namjoon a little of his friend Jimin. Namjoon thinks their scents might even suit each other too: Jimin is an alpha with a faint cinnamon-spice scent, one that always reminds Namjoon of apples and pumpkins, and Taehyung's beta scent is like crisp autumn wind and fallen leaves.

Namjoon has such a fascination for scents, bordering on a sensitivity to them. It's part of why he chose a beta massage therapist to begin with. Seokjin recommended Min Yoongi's services in particular because he thought the beta had a scent that would help relax Namjoon, even if he refused to disclose what the scent was.

It only takes Namjoon a few minutes to fill out the form he's given — just a confirmation of consent and medical information, some survey-like questions at the end — and he hands it back to a grinning Taehyung.

Taehyung glances down at the form, scanning it while Namjoon waits, and he seems almost unusually happy for Namjoon when he lifts his head back up.

Maybe the stress is too obvious in Namjoon's scent and posture, how badly he needs this.

"You can go into the first room on the left and, ah, undress to whatever level you're comfortable with. Hyung will knock before he comes in!"

"Okay, thank you," Namjoon says with a smile, following Taehyung's instructions and heading into the room.

It's dimly lit and cozy, a raised bed for one person in the middle of the room, some robes hung up, some candles glowing on the counter at the back with all the oils and a sink.

Namjoon likes all the earthy greens and browns, the artwork on the walls and the very faint clean smell coming from the candles. Even when the nerves inevitably flare up as he undresses, he realizes he's already starting to feel calmer, more relaxed.

Namjoon strips down to his underwear and sits on the bed as he waits, sheet covering his lap for the illusion of modesty. He has no idea what Yoongi looks like (Jungkook's slip-up from earlier, Cute, pops up in Namjoon's thoughts), only knows his age and that he's a beta who is good at his job, so thinking about who will walk through the door has Namjoon a little fidgety.

But he's used to unfamiliar situations, too. Putting himself out there even if it can be overwhelming or uncertain. Lately it's been working with artists he's admired for years, helping write and produce for them.

Just thinking about sitting at his studio desk has Namjoon tilting his head, slowly rotating his stiff neck. He huffs out a laugh — back to the relaxing thoughts, right — when he suddenly hears a knock at the door.

Namjoon clears his throat, pulse picking up a little. "Come in!"

The door opens and Yoongi steps inside, "Hello, Namjoon-ssi."

Oh. Yoongi is sort of distressingly hot. Cool.

Namjoon manages his own hello and clutches the sheet to his lap, watching as Yoongi leans against the counter and drags his gaze calmly up and down Namjoon's body. He briefly explains what will happen, asks Namjoon how he's feeling, and each time his gaze drops again to Namjoon's body, something warm tugs in the omega's belly.

But the thing is— it's not that Namjoon feels uncomfortable, or that Yoongi's stare is in any way objectifying. It's not that at all. Yoongi has a very calming presence, from his almost slouching posture to his low voice. Seokjin was very insistent that if Namjoon is uncomfortable at any point he should speak up, that it's normal to communicate with the massage therapist about your comfort levels.

It's just. Yoongi is so hot. Dark hair and dangling earrings, pretty eyes, a cute nose. He's wearing a white dress shirt tucked into black pants, the sleeves already rolled up to his elbows, and Namjoon is more aware of his own nakedness than ever.

Yoongi's hands look big, long fingers and bony knuckles. A trickle of heat creeps down Namjoon's spine at the thought of being touched by them, despite the fact that's exactly what he's here for.

"Namjoon-ssi," Yoongi starts, and Namjoon straightens up a little. "I know we already talked about the type of massage you want, something for relaxation with a focus on your neck and shoulders, your back."

"Yeah, right," Namjoon agrees quickly. His back twinges a little even just thinking about it, but that also might have to do with him sitting up straight now that Yoongi is speaking to him.

"Is that still okay? Is there any spot you wouldn't like to be touched, any sensitivities you're worried about?"

Namjoon shakes his head. "No, not that I know of. I'm, ah, a little ticklish? My chest and sides."

Yoongi smiles, an amused quirk of his mouth. "Okay. I'll be careful around those areas, but most of the touches will be sweeping or firm pressure, so hopefully it won't be an issue."

"Right," Namjoon laughs shortly. "Should I lie down?"

"Yeah, go ahead, on your stomach. I'll fix the sheet after you do. Do you have any other questions, Namjoon-ssi?"

"No, I'm good." He can hear the sound of Yoongi washing his hands (at least, Namjoon assumes) as Namjoon lies down, wiggling to get comfortable just before he feels Yoongi adjusting the sheet to cover Namjoon's underwear.

And then Namjoon gets his first real inhale of Yoongi's scent.

He caught a faint sweetness when Yoongi stepped into the room but couldn't really guess his scent. All betas have some kind of nature scent that can be hard to put into words — a stormy seaside, a gentle summer rain, a lush green forest, the inspiring crispness of night air.

Yoongi smells like spring.

Not like melting snow, but like life, sweet and new, like blossoms on trees and the warmth of sunshine, like the very subtle smell of earth and fresh air.

Yoongi smells like a bike ride through a beautiful landscape, when everything is bright and green and blooming, and Namjoon lets out a soft oh at the realization.

"Okay?" Yoongi asks quietly.

"Mm, yeah," Namjoon hums. Yoongi's scent is— not thick or oppressive, but somehow everywhere, relaxing Namjoon with each breath he takes. Like a heavy cloud of calm blanketing over his body.

Yoongi has barely even touched him yet.

"Just remember to speak up if anything hurts or makes you uncomfortable," Yoongi says in that equally soft voice, almost a mumble. "There will be pressure, a little bit of discomfort working the tighter muscles, but this should feel good for you."

"Okay." Namjoon closes his eyes, body a little tense while anticipating Yoongi's touches, but Yoongi doesn't make him wait long.

His hands are warm, big, gliding easily as he spreads what Namjoon assumes is some kind of oil over his skin. Namjoon's nose is still filled with the scent of sweet spring blossoms as Yoongi's touches sweep and spread, starting with Namjoon's upper back, his shoulders.

Namjoon's belly clenches at the touches, the pressure of someone else's hands on him, the strength Yoongi uses like he knows Namjoon can handle it. There's always a worry, with stereotypes regrettably being what they are, that once someone finds out Namjoon is an omega they'll want to treat him delicately without asking how he feels. But Yoongi doesn't give that impression. Yoongi knows he's an omega and still touches him like someone who is aching to be pushed around a little, if the ending result is bone-deep relaxation.

Namjoon grunts as Yoongi starts working around his shoulder blades. Yoongi hums, a little questioning noise.


"Yeah, yes." Namjoon's answer comes out breathless and Yoongi hums again. He seems to lean down even closer as he works his way up to Namjoon's shoulders, kneading pressure that aches so sweetly, Yoongi's scent soaking through Namjoon's senses.

The point of this was to feel relaxed, of course, but Namjoon had no idea how quickly Yoongi would turn him to putty, make him feel pliable and small under Yoongi's sure touches.

"Namjoon-ssi, you're very broad," Yoongi says with a quiet laugh, and Namjoon smiles into the cushioned headrest where his face is currently buried.

"Ah, thank you?"

"Seokjin-hyung said you're '94? You can call me hyung if you'd like. I've known Kim Seokjin for a while."

Namjoon, inexplicably, flushes at that permission. "Okay. Thank you, hyung-nim."

Yoongi makes a noise at that, kind of an amused scoff, that has Namjoon smiling.

He's using his long fingers on Namjoon's shoulders now, rubbing his way closer to the base of Namjoon's stiff neck. Namjoon lets out a soft groan in anticipation.

"Too much?"

"No, no, it's perfect," Namjoon babbles. And he's not lying — the pressure is intense at times, as Yoongi works at his muscles, but the result is still bliss, like his whole body is slowly becoming loose for Yoongi.

Loose for Yoongi. Namjoon should probably not be thinking things like that.

Namjoon is too alert to Yoongi's touches to fall asleep, but he drifts a little as the massage goes on, so much focus on Namjoon's shoulders and upper back, Yoongi grabbing and kneading at the muscles, fingers somehow gentle even with how achingly firm the touches are.

Yoongi steps around the table as he needs to and gets more oil, working lower on Namjoon's back, on either side of his spine and down just above his ass, the waistband of his underwear.

The movement of Yoongi's hands is gliding, purposeful, professional. It's everything Namjoon had hoped for when he made his appointment.

So Namjoon is more than a little embarrassed when he realizes he's starting to get wet.

Some website or another warned him this was normal, when Namjoon was doing research for his massage. Or, well, not this exactly, but that no professional massage therapist would be bothered by the body's natural reactions to touch and relaxation.

It doesn't make Namjoon any less embarrassed, though. His face heats when he realizes he can even pick up on the scent of his own arousal, the syrupyness of it cutting through Yoongi's soothing scent.

Yoongi kindly doesn't say anything, continues to let his hands glide and push over Namjoon's back, but as they sweep to the top of his underwear, rubbing there, Namjoon lets out a low moan before he can choke it back.

Yoongi pauses. "Does anything hurt, Namjoon-ah?"

Yes, my dick. "No," Namjoon says quickly. "Sorry, I just—"

"It's okay," Yoongi tells him, voice low and soothing. Namjoon wonders if that's a beta thing too, never sounding patronizing. Or maybe it's just a Yoongi thing. "I could feel you tensing up, though. Is there anything I can do to help you relax?"

Namjoon lifts his warm face from the headrest, turning to meet Yoongi's stare. It's unassuming, a little concerned.

"Uh, well."

"If you don't mind me bringing it up..." Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, maybe a habit of his. "You marked on your form that your heat is next week?"

"Oh, yeah, like. Near to it, at least." Namjoon swallows. Why is Yoongi asking about his heat?

"Mm, well. Sometimes the body is more sensitive before a heat or rut, that's normal. We actually recommend to our alpha clients to not schedule a massage before their rut if possible," Yoongi says with a short laugh. "But going by your scent, I think you might have trouble relaxing like this, Namjoon-ah."

Yoongi still says it gently, but Namjoon's face flushes hot with something too close to shame, humiliation. He's 26, not a teenager. He should at least be able to control this.

"Hey, don't do that," Yoongi chides softly. "I can hear you overthinking. Listen to me for a minute, okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Namjoon brings his arms up to rest his chin on while Yoongi talks, one of Yoongi's hands still resting over the smooth skin of Namjoon's back.

"If you're interested, I can help you relieve that tension so you'll be more relaxed for the rest of your massage. But only if that's something you would be comfortable with. It's okay if you'd like to try to continue as is, or if you want me to give you some time to, ah, compose yourself."

"Wait," Namjoon says, breath hitching. "Relieve tension, do you mean...?"

"Helping you get off." Yoongi says it matter-of-factly, but there's a strain in his voice that has Namjoon's stomach fluttering. Even under the professionalism, Yoongi isn't entirely unaffected. "I could smell how wet you were, but I didn't know how much of that was arousal until your scent... changed a little."

"Fuck," Namjoon swears. "That's stupidly embarrassing, wow."

Yoongi clicks his tongue. "No, no, it's not. I wouldn't offer this if I wasn't entirely comfortable with it, you know that, right? It could help relax you and that's what I want. There'd be no extra charge or anything, this is just us, Namjoon-ah."

Just us. Why does that make Namjoon shiver, make his heart thud a little faster in his chest? "So you're suggesting—"

"My fingers, or just my hand. Do you like having something inside?"

Namjoon's eyes squeeze shut, breath coming out in a quick huff. He's still blushing, still nervous, but— he's wanting too. Aching for it, now that Yoongi has offered it.

"Yeah," Namjoon finally answers. "Yes, I want to do this, but also I'm, um, clean. I took a thorough shower this morning because, well."

Yoongi hums, the sound gently encouraging. He starts to rub circles at the base of Namjoon's spine, where his ass curves into his underwear. "You can say it, whatever it is."

"I figured I'd get home after the massage and jerk off," Namjoon admits. "And I have toys that I like to use inside, ah..."

Yoongi's scent is still steady, calm and sweet, but there's a little spike in it after Namjoon says that, as if a breeze just brought the scent closer to Namjoon's nose.

Yoongi is into this too?

"Namjoon-ah," Yoongi says, "can I help you out of your underwear? You can stay on your stomach for this, it might be more comfortable for you if you feel less exposed."

"Yeah, okay." Namjoon lifts his hips as Yoongi tucks his fingers into the waistband of Namjoon's boxer-briefs, easing them down his ass and then his legs, the sheet going with them.

It's not chilly in the room, but Namjoon still shivers as the cool air over his bare skin raises goosebumps, his breath catching when Yoongi strokes a hand up one of Namjoon's long legs, all the way up to his thigh.

Now that they're really doing this, Namjoon lets himself feel the touch as less-than-professional. Heat pools in his belly when Yoongi kneads at Namjoon's ass, still using his skills as a massage therapist but his fingers brush between Namjoon's cheeks, the back of his knuckles pressing at the lower curve of Namjoon's ass in a way that makes his cock twitch under his belly. They're not overly sexual touches, but Namjoon is sensitive, already worked up.

Yoongi mumbles soft, encouraging things and eases Namjoon into being touched more intimately, but still with a level of care and consideration for what's comfortable for the omega. And it's nice, having that attention. Namjoon isn't used to being taken care of in this way, or letting himself be taken care of.

"Hyung," Namjoon breathes out, body tensing when Yoongi's pushing touches spread him open, enough to know that Yoongi can see everything now. Namjoon can feel— god, he can feel himself leaking, the slick that dribbles out of his hole when he clenches up, he's so wet now.

"Is this still okay?" Yoongi asks, hands still.

"Yeah, yeah." Namjoon is warm — his face, his neck, his ears — but embarrassment aside, it's not a bad feeling. "I promise I'll tell you if that changes, just, ah. Please touch me?"

"Okay." Yoongi steps away and Namjoon hears the click of a bottle, almost blurting out that he's wet enough already to not need oil or lube, but deciding to let Yoongi do it his way.

Being too wet isn't a bad thing anyway. Sometimes Namjoon likes it that way.

"I know this sounds easier said than done, but try to relax for me," Yoongi tells him, voice low, as he spreads Namjoon's cheek to the side with one hand.

Namjoon tries to answer, some kind of affirming hum at least, but Yoongi is already tracing a warm, slick finger over Namjoon's rim, and the only sound that leaves Namjoon's lips is a soft moan.

It's telling of how worked up he is already, if just that gentle touch has pleasure curling low in Namjoon's belly, has him feeling shamelessly eager for the pressure of Yoongi's fingers inside.

"Just relax," Yoongi says, sweet scent filling Namjoon's nose, and then his finger is gliding in easily. Almost too easily, like the beta's scent has Namjoon pliant and open.

It's a wild thought, a filthy one, but now Namjoon can't help wondering about it. If Yoongi's scent alone could get him loose and ready for more fingers, for a cock.

Yoongi interrupts Namjoon's thoughts with a rough laugh. "Namjoon-ah, please don't take this as a bad thing, but your scent is, ah, it's a bit obvious. You really like having something inside?"

Sorry, I'm just fantasizing about you using me, Namjoon thinks as new arousal grips his stomach, his legs spreading slightly as Yoongi presses in deeper. Namjoon's cock is still mostly tucked underneath him, almost certainly hard by now if the sweet friction whenever he squirms is anything to go by.

Yoongi makes no move to touch anywhere but his hole, though, finger dragging, giving Namjoon something to clench around.

"Yeah," Namjoon answers, very belatedly. "Sorry I'm so, uh—"

"I hope you're not about to apologize for being wet." Yoongi's voice is still so pleasantly low, amused. "Just breathe slowly for me. Let me know if it's too much."

"Okay," Namjoon says softly, and just after his eyes slide shut, his hips shifting and then stilling, Yoongi starts to rub more firmly. His fingers press with purpose, massaging inside until Namjoon's stomach draws up tight, the intense pleasure that spreads through his groin, making him pant.

"That's it," Yoongi says, scent still a sweet breeze that Namjoon readily breathes in. He melts into the bed, even as the pleasure continues to thrum inside him, the deep heat of Yoongi massaging over his prostate. "You're sensitive."

Namjoon swallows, toes curling. "It's part of why I, uh. Like penetration so muh- much." Namjoon flushes at the way his words stutter, the way his hips try to lift, try to rock back with Yoongi's finger. "H- Hyung."

"Mm, it's okay, if it feels better to move then you can move. Namjoon-ah. Can I touch your cock?"

That word, in Yoongi's deep voice, unravels something hot in Namjoon's belly. He thought he'd still be clinging to shame, having a stranger see him so needy like this, but Namjoon wants it with Yoongi more than anything right now. "Yeah. Please."

Namjoon knows his squirming has shifted his cock slightly but his breath still hitches in surprise when Yoongi carefully angles it down between his thighs, fingers teasing the head, dragging up the delicate skin of his sac just to press at his perineum.

Yoongi is good with his hands, Namjoon already knew that, but it's just unreasonable for him to be this good with his hands.

A whine escapes past Namjoon's lips. He swears he can feel himself getting wetter around the finger Yoongi has inside him, clenching only to have more slick leaking out. But Yoongi doesn't let up, doesn't tease him for how eager Namjoon's body is.

"Hyung," Namjoon huffs, "you're really—"

"Hm?" Yoongi rubs, just the right amount of pressure to have Namjoon shuddering, clamping tight around the finger inside.

"Really fucking good at what you do," Namjoon finishes. His voice is hoarse already, half-wrecked, but he thinks he's been whining more than he wants to admit.

"I just want you to feel good," Yoongi says. He must lean closer over Namjoon's body, because his scent gets stronger, that sweet spring scent so vivid that Namjoon could close his eyes and imagine he's outside, in the sun or under the shade of a tree.

(Outdoor sex is not really a kink for Namjoon, but... Yoongi's scent still has him thinking.)

"I do. You are making me feel good, hyung, please," Namjoon begs, words slurring when Yoongi's fingers curl around Namjoon's cock, just under the swollen head, stroking. "Can you—"

"What do you need?"

"More." Namjoon should be more embarrassed at how breathy the word comes out, what he's asking for, but he's too close, the pleasure is too overwhelming. "Another finger, please."

"Okay, I can do that, just try to relax for me."

Namjoon's laugh comes out almost like a sob. "How am I supposed to relax like this? Hyung."

"Relax to let me in, Namjoon-ah," Yoongi teases. "You squeeze so tightly, how does anyone ever get a knot into you, huh?"

Oh, that's— Namjoon blushes at that, heat tugging in his gut. Yoongi brings it up so casually, the thought of Namjoon being stuffed full with a knot, and somehow that's just about the hottest thing he could say right now.

"Here we go," Yoongi murmurs, working in a second finger. He never leaves to get more lube and Namjoon realizes he must be wet enough, then, probably dripping with it around the long, skilled fingers that Yoongi presses inside.

Namjoon moans, couldn't stop the needy sound if he tried, and just hopes the walls are thick enough that no one else hears.


"Fuck, like that, please," Namjoon gasps. "Hyung, it's- it's so deep, you're so good at this, ah—"

Yoongi's fingers rub him so well, it feels like Namjoon's been on the edge of orgasm for minutes now. His hips lift, trying to hump into Yoongi's hand where Yoongi's fingers are still curled around his swollen cock, slowly stroking him.

"Do you think you can come soon? Hyung wants you to, sweetheart. You've been so good for me, asking for what you need, so wet, can you come?"

Yoongi's words wash warm through Namjoon, the pleasure pulsing so tight, so deep, and Namjoon chokes out a yes.

"Come on, then." The fingers around Namjoon's cock tighten, a thumb teasing the sensitive head while Yoongi fucks the fingers of his other hand wetly into Namjoon's hole, massaging at his prostate. "Let go for me, let yourself feel good."

It doesn't take long. Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on the intense heat, the pressure, the ache of needing to come. His orgasm grips him and doesn't let go, Namjoon shaking hard as he comes and comes and comes, cock spurting, ass clenching tight around the fingers inside.

"That's it, there you go," Yoongi rasps. His fingers don't stop massaging Namjoon inside and it drags his orgasm out for what feels like minutes, until it's too much, until he's trembling hard and thinks tears might be stinging his eyes.

"Hyung," Namjoon gasps, "'s so much—"

"You're okay," Yoongi tells him, voice still such an attractive mix of rough and soothing as he stills his fingers, easing them out.

Namjoon clenches up around nothing, huffing out an overwhelmed laugh at the slick that trails down to his balls, he's leaking so much. "Fuck."

He shivers as Yoongi cleans him up, gentle between Namjoon's cheeks. Yoongi taps his thigh and Namjoon lifts as a clean towel is placed underneath him so he isn't rubbing his softening cock into a puddle of his own come.

Being cleaned up like this after an orgasm is new too, something Namjoon isn't used to. He sighs at how pleasant it is.

Yoongi's fresh spring scent fills Namjoon's nose and he finds himself asking, "Hyung, are you also, ah. You know?"

Yoongi chuckles, but there's a shakiness to it that already betrays his answer. "You're asking if I'm aroused? If I'm hard?"


"Ahh, honestly speaking, Kim Namjoon, you're too good looking. Your body, your scent, your noises. Yeah, I'm hard. But I want to finish your massage before I do anything about it, if that's okay with you. I'm serious about wanting you to feel relaxed, taken care of the way you expected to be when you came in today."

"You took a lot better care of me than I could've imagined," Namjoon mumbles, hoping Yoongi can hear the smile in his voice. "Hyung. Thank you."

"Yah, don't thank me until the massage is over, okay?"

Namjoon keeps smiling, even as he buries his face back in the headrest, settling back into a sleepy, relaxed headspace as Yoongi massages him.

He's still sensitive from the orgasm but it's easy to relax now too, like the intensity of the pleasure used up all his energy. There is warmth in his belly, a gentle heat that licks inside him as Yoongi pushes and rubs through all of Namjoon's sore spots, but it's a deeper satisfaction than arousal now. Just pure bliss, the way Yoongi works his body, how good it feels to be taken care of.

Once Yoongi is finished he has Namjoon roll over onto his back, pulling the sheet up even if Namjoon isn't particularly embarrassed for Yoongi to see his half-hard cock now. Namjoon blinks his eyes open, watches Yoongi wash his hands and then bring a bottle of water over to Namjoon, smiling cutely.

Namjoon still isn't sure if Jungkook meant to say it, but he was right regardless. Yoongi-hyung is cute.

"Are you okay to sit up? You can take longer if you need to, but you should try to drink some water if you can."

"Hyung," Namjoon says after lifting up to his elbows, the sheet slipping down to his waist. He winces when his voice comes out so rough. "Thank you."

"Mmm." Yoongi's smile is back.

Namjoon drinks half the bottle and then makes himself meet Yoongi's eyes when he asks, "Will you let me touch you now?"

Yoongi blinks. "You don't have to."

"I won't, if that's not something you want, but." Namjoon lets out a shaky breath. "I want to. I really want to, hyung."

It's hard to tell, with how consistently good Yoongi smells, his sweet scent that fills Namjoon with such a sense of peace. But Namjoon thinks the smell of spring gets a little thicker when he says that.

"Okay," Yoongi says, eyes dark with want. "Yeah, you can— please."

Yoongi steps close and Namjoon sits up straight, isn't bothered by the fact he's shirtless and Yoongi only goes as far as getting his pants open and shirt rucked up before letting Namjoon take over.

Because things are already a bit awkward and unconventional between them, but not in a bad way. Namjoon can't think of the last time he was so eager to get someone off, much less someone he just met an hour ago.

"Can I kiss you?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi is already leaning down, crashing his lips into Namjoon's just as Namjoon's fingers start to tug at Yoongi's cock.

It's a little clumsy — Yoongi's arms and hands must be tired and Namjoon is still working through the boneless feeling in his own limbs — but the sudden franticness makes up for it, the wet press of Yoongi's mouth over his, the sweetness in his scent. Namjoon jerks Yoongi off with a tight grip and Yoongi moans into their kisses, gasps and hisses as Namjoon teases the head of his cock, as he speeds up his hand.

"Fuck," Yoongi swears, "this was supposed to be for you, how is it you can make me feel so good?"

"You deserve it," Namjoon blurts out, kissing Yoongi again before he says anything else embarrassing, anything bordering on too honest.

Yoongi smiles into the kiss, moans and rolls his hips a little with Namjoon's touch. "Namjoon-ah."

Namjoon kisses harder, doesn't acknowledge the thought that slips through his mind, I think I'm in love with your scent, hyung, because Yoongi's breath is hitching, a hand grabbing at Namjoon's shoulder, fingers digging in tightly.

"Fuck," Yoongi says again. "Fuck, that's it—"

He comes with a strangled cry that Namjoon swallows up in an open-mouthed kiss, Yoongi's cock pulsing hot with it, spilling over Namjoon's fist. Namjoon strokes him through his orgasm, pulling back to stare at the mess Yoongi's made as Yoongi tries to catch his breath.

The room should smell like sex, like sweat and musk, but all Namjoon breathes in is that fresh spring scent.

They trade lazy kisses as Yoongi comes down, cleaning up with the sheet before Yoongi tucks himself back into his pants, before Namjoon slides off the bed and starts getting dressed.

Yoongi watches him. Namjoon's face heats a little. He's pretty sure normal procedure is that Yoongi leaves the room for this part, but.

But Namjoon doesn't mind Yoongi watching.

"Your body really is amazing."

Namjoon chokes out a laugh, ducking his head. "Ai, hyung."

"What, I can't say so?"

"No, you can." Namjoon smirks. He isn't sure where the cockiness comes from, when he still feels utterly taken apart by Yoongi's touches, but he likes this back-and-forth with Yoongi. He feels too comfortable doing it, as if they could easily fall into banter outside of this space as well.

Maybe Namjoon just needs to admit to himself he has a crush.

"Okay," Yoongi says after Namjoon is dressed, "you're good to go when you're ready, Namjoon-ah. Take it easy for the rest of the day, drink lots of water. Be safe for your upcoming heat as well," he adds, almost as an afterthought, and Namjoon ducks his head shyly again.

"Right, uh, of course. Me and my toys."

Yoongi makes a pained face, but Namjoon can tell from the way Yoongi's scent hits him like a sudden breeze, that he isn't really bothered by the TMI. Or that he's bothered in a fun way, at least.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Am I allowed to ask for your number or is that, like, grossly crossing a line as a client?" Namjoon asks, maybe a little too earnestly.

But Yoongi just smiles, wide enough for his gums to show. Namjoon's stomach swoops.

"No, you can ask for it."

Namjoon pauses. "Are you going to turn me down? Is that the trick here?"

"Yah!" Yoongi laughs, stepping close enough that Namjoon is suddenly struck by their size difference, how much broader and taller he is than Yoongi. When he was naked and lying down, being kneaded into goo by Yoongi's hands, Namjoon felt a lot smaller. "It's not a trick. Give me your phone, I'll put my number in."

Namjoon gets Yoongi's number and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek in thanks. He's sure that even though he leaves the room alone, Taehyung can guess from Namjoon's giddy expression what happened.

That's okay. Taehyung's knowing smile is worth the thought of messaging Yoongi later, the thought of that warm voice and sweet scent, of Yoongi's smile.



Namjoon really thinks he's managed to school his expression into something normal — no crushes and stomachs full of butterflies here — until he gets home and Hoseok's face lights up as soon as he sees him, Hoseok's hands running up and down Namjoon's arms, taking in the sight of him.

Namjoon is terrified at how easily Hoseok can read him.

"Oh, Namjoon-ah. Tell me about Min Yoongi."