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Yoongi's hands are clammy, and it feels kinda like his heart might beat right out of his throat. He's never been to Hoseok's place, and while they've been dating for the better part of a month, Yoongi's still nervous. It was a big deal to get invited to someone's place, right? Last time Yoongi had been at Hoseok's door, Yoongi had kissed Hoseok goodbye at his doorstep, Hoseok reluctantly pulling away from him to go inside. That was two weeks ago, and neither of them had really had too much time on their hands to be walking either back home. They'd parted ways at the most convenient location, nothing more than a quick hug, the press of their hands left to carry them home.

But midterms were over, and Yoongi isn't trying to memorize every detail about how to maintain sustainability in urban city landscaping design anymore. He does have an essay due detailing the failure of achieving accessibility in modern cities but it's not due for another week and half and Yoongi's gonna pretend it doesn't exist for now.

Hoseok had told him to come around six and it's technically ten minutes before six, so, so maybe Yoongi should wait just a little bit longer. He licks his lips, tastes the peachy lipbalm he'd used earlier and makes a face. Two doors down from Hoseok, someone leaves their apartment, mostly ignoring Yoongi's existence. Maybe he should knock.

He knocks, stares down at his Doc Martens and then back up, the pink of his hair fluttering into his eyes. The door opens not thirty seconds later, and Yoongi finds a grin stretched from ear to ear on Hoseok's face, cheeks a little flushed.

"Hi," he breathes, opening the door up wider and steps a little to the side. Yoongi glances from his face to the depths of his apartment and it's tiny, a little cluttered.

"Hey," Yoongi smiles, lifting the six-pack he's brought along with himself and wiggling it in his hand. "A present."

"Do I get all of them?" Hoseok grins, taking the beer from Yoongi's hand and ushering him inside. Yoongi steps in, removing the scarf he'd worn loosely around his neck. Hoseok shuffles back a little, shutting the door behind Yoongi and they're in each other's personal space, and Yoongi's heart is doing this thing. He swallows, tells himself not to take a step back, smiling at Hoseok.

"Can you even handle six beers?" Yoongi retorts, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. Hoseok's glowing, scoop neck t-shirt baring his collarbones almost entirely. He looks comfortable, and Yoongi has to quell down the urge to kiss him right there. They wander further in, Yoongi having slipped out of his shoes. Hoseok is bare feet, the hems of his jeans rolled up, baring his ankles. Yoongi's stomach flutters, heartbeat too fast and he's already here, why can't he calm the fuck down.

"I don't remember you being so sassy," Hoseok pouts, looking entirely too cute. Yoongi doesn't remember signing up for this.

"Did you have to shuffle me around to make space for all your psychology notes?" Yoongi asks, attempting his best to look hurt. Hoseok shakes his head and it's such a full-bodied thing, as if he couldn't possibly forget about Yoongi when school took up such a large chunk of his life. Yoongi can't quite discern how to react, obvious displays of earnestness leaving his mouth dry, throat tight.

"I'm very good at multi-tasking, you know," Hoseok says, deliberate and Yoongi has a few ideas about that, ideas that make him feel a little warm, flushed smile nearly getting the better of him. "Also," Hoseok adds, looking hesitant, "I ordered in. I hope that's okay?"

"Totally," Yoongi replies, maybe a little too quickly. "I'm only a ramen chef."

"Got it, Yoongi-hyung is the ramen expert," Hoseok nods solemnly, placing the beer into his fridge. Yoongi's eyes follow the slope of Hoseok's back, the outline of Hoseok's torso in his t-shirt, curve of his ass, and he has to remind himself to breathe. You can do this, Yoongi.

The kitchen is small but neat, living room a cluttered mess of Hoseok's various textbooks and notes. Hoseok's last midterm had only been that morning, and while Yoongi had assured that they could hang out that weekend, Hoseok had insisted on today. It's not like Yoongi's place looked any better, discarded pieces of basswood and plastic trees cluttered everywhere.

"Do you mind if we watch the last Running Man, I missed it," Hoseok asks, grabbing chopsticks from a drying rack. Yoongi's hip settles against the counter and he feels a little useless, but Hoseok's got everything under control. He always does.

"Whatever you want," Yoongi replies. It's not like Yoongi really ever had time to watch anything, not when he lived at the studio whenever possible. Hoseok flashes him an appreciative smile all the same, looking far too happy for such a small favour. "How was your midterm?"

"Good! Good, good, I think, I mean, you never really know and I don't wanna jinx myself," Hoseok exclaims, eyebrows all knit as he finishes off. Yoongi's reminded of a puppy, excitable but scared to disappoint. "I studied, a lot."

"You work hard," Yoseok agrees. "I'm sure you did great."

Hoseok's smile is brilliant, all pleased with himself, and god, Yoongi's heart is going to burst into a million, billion pieces at this rate. "Thanks hyung!"

Yoongi pretends that the warmth in his cheeks isn't there, bopping his head awkwardly. He still has a hard time believing he's dating Hoseok, for once Seokjin's insistent need to matchmake his friend working out. Yoongi had been on a few less than stellar dates. But Hoseok is a steady thrum of energy, as if incapable of standing still and Yoongi wonders how he looks in his sleep, where all this energy goes.

"I ordered jjajangmyeon. I don't think I've eaten real food in weeks," Hoseok tells Yoongi, attempting to grab a tray full of side dishes and the two glasses of water he's poured them all himself. Yoongi tuts under his breath, taking the tray from Hoseok's hands, quietly relishing the smoothness of Hoseok's skin under his. He carries them to the coffee table, where Hoseok's left their takeout sitting. Yoongi can smell the blackbean sauce and his mouth waters.

They both fit onto Hoseok's single couch, his television sitting in the corner, across from them. Yoongi leans over to spread the side dishes, hungrier than he realised, when Hoseok pulls the table in closer to the couch. They sit hunched over, bowls of jjajangmyeon in their laps, and Yoongi likes the comfortable silence, the ease between them. It hardly feels like a date, Hoseok's attention fixed on his food and the television, laughing along to well-timed jokes. Yoongi tells himself he's not disappointed, considering he's always been so unsure of relationships. At his longest, in high school, Yoongi dated someone for six months. He still considers it a nightmare.

Distractedly, because maybe Hoseok's not aware of how their thighs are pressed into each other, but Yoongi is, Yoongi moves to take the last piece of white radish when Hoseok does, too. Their chopsticks clack, and Yoongi pulls away faster than Hoseok, willing to give the piece away.

"You should," Hoseok starts, before taking the radish and offering to feed it to Yoongi. It surprises Yoongi, nearly leaning away but he tentatively opens his mouth and lets Hoseok place the piece between his teeth. Yoongi bites half off, before pushing the remainder toward Hoseok, flushing furiously. He looks down at his empty bowl, stomach twisting and they saw each other three days ago, Hoseok's hand slipping into Yoongi's but somehow this feels nicer.

"Hyung, you're so cute," Hoseok laughs, leaning into Yoongi and it's awfully unfair, Yoongi's skin catching fire. He'd draped his coat over the back of the couch, sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up past his elbows.

"What, you wouldn't feel embarrassed if someone fed you?" Yoongi huffs, setting his bowl aside. Hoseok's still giggling, staring at Yoongi adoringly and it only makes it worse. Yoongi's blush spreads down his neck, until it feels like he's warm all over, inside out.

"Maybe if it was you," Hoseok grins, cheeky, and Yoongi roll his eyes, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat. A second ago he'd been upset that Hoseok wasn't paying him enough mind but now he'd rather Hoseok just watched his show and left Yoongi to drown in his feelings.

"Maybe you should clean your mouth," Yoongi says instead, reaching over to wipe blackbean sauce from the corner of Hoseok's mouth. He startles when Hoseok catches his hand and licks the sauce of his finger, heart swan diving into his belly. Yoongi almost snatches his hand away but Hoseok winds their fingers together, grinning and Yoongi feels overheated, eyes fixed on the curve of Hoseok's mouth.

"You know, hyung," Hoseok says carefully slow, "I really missed you."

"You...you saw me on Tuesday," Yoongi mumbles, swallowing, lower lip caught between his teeth.

"For lunch," Hoseok pouts, the neckline of his shirt slipping lower as he leans closer to Yoongi, and okay, wow, unnecessary. "That doesn't count."

"Why not?" Yoongi retorts weakly, eyes shifting from Hoseok's mouth to his bare collarbones. It's not like Yoongi hasn't obsessively thought about just kissing Hoseok for hours, but the reality is scarier, and his heart is beating so fast Yoongi can't think.

"Because," Hoseok murmurs, so close now that Yoongi can practically taste him, and it's enough, it's enough. Yoongi leans in the rest of the way, head tilted to the left as he kisses Hoseok, lips barely touching, heartbeat like a murmur now. Hoseok's eyes are closed and this close, Yoongi can see the perfect fan of his eyelashes. He feels light headed, presses closer, kisses harder, and Hoseok's mouth is velvet soft, slick with spit. Yoongi can taste the spice of kimchi against his lips, licks it off until Hoseok's opening up, a hand wrapping around Yoongi's torso and pulling him closer. Yoongi slides his tongue against Hoseok's, electricity zig-zagging it's way down his spine at the sound of Hoseok's soft sigh.

Yoongi's breath hitches in the back of his throat when Hoseok slides a hand under his shirt, palm smoothing over Yoongi's back and Hoseok's falling back against the couch, Yoongi's following him down. He's practically in Hoseok's lap, straddling Hoseok's hips, arms winding around Hoseok's neck. And Yoongi is licking into Hoseok's mouth, swallowing moans, until Yoongi feels full with them, belly ready to burst every time Hoseok so much as whimpers. They'd never gotten this far before, never had the privacy and Yoongi's floating, giddy, kisses getting breathier and shorter until Hoseok's mouth is traveling down the column of Yoongi's neck, sucking bruises against his skin.

"Ho-Hoseok," Yoongi gasps, feels teeth scrap against his pulse and without a doubt he'll have hickies; Yoongi bruises too easily. His hips grind down against Hoseok's, pleased with the friction and Hoseok groans, fingers digging into Yoongi's hips until he's got Yoongi completely locked in place. Yoongi twists a hand into Hoseok's hair, pulls him back up for a kiss, hungry again.

"Yoongi," Hoseok breathes. "Hyung, I really, really," he swallows, "like you."

"Shit," Yoongi curses against Hoseok's mouth, hips rolling once more and all Yoongi can taste is Hoseok's mouth, Hoseok's words, blood rushing south. He doesn't stop, kisses Hoseok over and over and over again, until he feels dizzy with it, before slowing down, kisses languid, less desperation and wanting, more about just touching Hoseok as much as he can.

"I missed you, too," Yoongi confesses, thumb tracing Hoseok's jaw. Hoseok slides his hand half way up Yoongi's back, nails dragging lightly as he brings it back down.

"Good," Hoseok mumbles against Yoongi's mouth. "Good."

At some point Yoongi's going to have to get off of Hoseok, but he thinks that they can probably do this for at least an hour, or two. Maybe more. He really wants to.