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beginning of 6th hour; the west-wing men's room that nobody goes in ever because it's allegedly haunted. or something.

hoseok and yoongi know better, they started that rumor anyway, way back in freshman year when they were still wet behind the ears and looking for a way to be a little mischievous. it worked for them, eventually, because three years later it's still their preferred spot. underneath the bleachers or in the gym supply closet don't have shit on this.

it's an all-purpose hideout too. from impromptu mario kart tourneys to unintended hand jobs instead of class, the bathroom has it all.

they both arrive within minutes of each other, hoseok first, already settled on a counter with his back against the large mirror by the time yoongi pushes the door open. it squeals piteously at the abuse, but they're used to the noise by now.

"hey."

"hey."

"the test in econ was fucking awful. hope you studied."

hoseok garbles out a laugh. it sounds more like he's about to cry, but he'd swear against it. yoongi snorts, and makes his way over to a urinal, unzipping and whipping it out. the bathroom is out of use, not out of service, and yoongi made sure to make full use of not having to stand directly next to someone when taking a piss.

hoseok starts idle conversation over the steady stream, mostly just to curb the hollow silence and the noises echoing off the tile. yoongi humors him, and grunts and nods as he rambles. getting talked to when you're taking care of business is probably just as uncomfortable as being ogled, but it's also hoseok. just hoseok.

hoseok, who somehow, despite his excessive bubbling, calms some of yoongi's nerves just by being around.

"hey," hoseok, who is currently trying to get some, begins, cutting off his own flow with overwhelming suggestion in his tone. "hey, can we? can i?" and he glances between yoongi's face and the hand he's using to guide, tongue probably darting out to wet his lower lip on purpose.

he knows that works everytime. of course he does. what a little shit. yoongi rolls his eyes for theatrics.

"go for it, kiddo," he's done peeing now, anyway, and makes a move to shake before he's stopped by hoseok.

"don't shake, i want to taste it all."

which is fucking disgusting, but yoongi would be lying if he said it didn't make his guts churn in a good way. hoseok hops off the counter, landing nice and quiet on his feet, and slinks over to yoongi. he looks incredibly pleased, face flushed and smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

yoongi turns so that they're facing, still awkwardly holding his limp cock like he doesn't know what to do with it. becuase he doesn't, really, but then hoseok is dropping to his knees and replacing that hand with his own slender fingers and yoongi already feels himself hardening.

the younger peeks up at him, maintaining eye contact until his tongue presses flat against the head, laving against the slit. if he grimaces at the lingering taste of piss he doesn't show it, instead slipping his eyes shut and focusing on getting yoongi up.

it doesn’t taste or smell conventionally wonderful, sweaty and sour and strong, but novelty of the fact that it’s yoongi is enough to have him putting in more than substantial effort.

his persistence is admirable. yoongi struggles a little to get all the way hard, but hoseok is patient the entire time, even before he's making little noises in the back of his throat as he bobs, and grinding the heel of his palm into his crotch.

yoongi watches as his girth begins to stretch out hoseok’s pretty red lips. seeing himself fill out the other’s mouth is kind of surreal, definitely mesmerizing, and the way hoseok’s eyebrows furrow as he accustoms to the swell is so attractive oh my god. the elder brings a hand down to the other boy’s head, brushing back his bangs so he can see better. the hair is soft between his fingers, and he finds himself stroking through it instead of just pushing it out of the way. whoops. too gay for having your dick in your best friend’s mouth.

hoseok pulls off, presumably to breathe or lick his lips or something that he couldn’t do with a cock crammed halfway down his throat. his mouth comes off with a gross ‘pop’ that bounces off the walls and rings in yoongi’s ears. neither of them have the shame to be embarrassed.

“is it ok so far?” his voice is already fucked and they haven’t done anything yet, and it takes all yoongi has to croak out a ‘yeah’ without sounding too awful himself.

he goes back to work after gracing yoongi with a smile that shouldn’t be as radiant as it is considering the circumstances, pressing pecks to the base that turn into wet kisses along the entire shaft.

when he sucks yoongi in again, the other’s hands go straight for his hair, threading the fingers in there and giving a light tug and hoseok whines, low and accidental, and it’s a miracle his teeth didn’t slip in surprise.

“sorry, i’m sorry, keep going.” yoongi almost removes his hands, is stopped by hoseok gurgling out a noise of protest as soon as his grip loosens, and the confusion on his face slips into a wicked smirk. he tugs again, a little rougher this time, and the vibrations that rocket through his skin paired with hoseok’s face have him a little more aroused than he’s willing to admit.

the younger has his pants unzipped now, palm still kneading himself through his boxers. he moves the hand he was using to hold yoongi steady to keep himself from pitching too far forward, grip firm on one of yoongi’s thighs through the uniform slacks.

his technique is still rough around the edges; characterized by too much porn and not enough hands-on application, but hoseok’s wiling to practice, yoongi’s willing to be the subject, and they both have a whole lot of free time.

which is great because yoongi is closer to orgasm than he wants to be, and hoseok’s jaw is getting sore.

“hobi, i’m gonna,” yoongi starts, and doesn’t finish because hoseok pinches him on the hipbone, and pulls back so that only the head is resting in his mouth. he stills, giving the younger’s hair one last yank as he comes. “jesus fuck.”

he catches hoseok gulping when he opens his eyes again, spent dick slipping from his lips, and look on his face is so sour that yoongi can’t help but laugh. “you didn’t have to swallow, you know.”

“for future reference,” hoseok grimaces, making exaggerated gagging noises before he stands. he needs a drink, ew.

“you need a hand?”

“nah, i already…” oh.

“oh.”

but hoseok’s already got his face halfway under the faucet, guzzling water to get the taste out of his mouth. when he’s done and finished wiping up the water dripping down his chin, he makes quick work of slipping out of his boxers and cleaning himself up. commando is cool too. the day is almost over anyway.

yoongi has since taken over hoseok’s spot on the counter and pretends to vomit when the other swoops in for a chaste kiss. “get your spunk lips away from me, you’re gross.”

“get over yourself it’s yours.”

yoongi dissolves into laugher first, a grin splitting his previously neutral expression, and hoseok follows until both of them are bubbles, noise rolling across the tiles and spilling out under the closed door into the empty hallway.

a+ hideout.