“Namjoon, please, for the love of all things holy, stop playing with that thing.”
Seokjin was desperately trying to study scales for his vocal session the next day, but all he could hear was the cheerful buzz of the vibrator he had found a few months before. He had tried desperately to block the trauma from his mind, but Namjoon’s rediscovery and fascination with the toy had prevented any success.
“No way, Taehyung finally gave me the password,” Namjoon mused. “It’s like a spaceship up your butt.”
“That sounds terrible!”
“Hey, don’t knock it until—”
“Nothing is going up my butt!” Seokjin huffed, his pencil scraping heavily across sheets of music.
“Really? You never had a girl put even a little finger? Like while she’s going down, she just slips a pinkie in?”
“No, Namjoon!” Seokjin threw his pencil across the room at his cackling roommate. “Not everyone in this house is obsessed with kinky fucking sex!”
“I’m just saying,” Namjoon wiped away a small tear as he caught his breath, “You should try it sometime.” With that, he took his leave of the room, tossing the vibrator carelessly onto Seokjin’s bed. Seokjin shuddered and turned back to his desk.
Seokjin studied deep into the night. He heard the shower go on and off six times before the dorm went quiet. Namjoon wished him a quick goodnight, told him not to stay up much longer, and headed to bed himself. Seokjin smiled. He would stay up much longer, because he knew his small desk lamp was like a nightlight for Namjoon, and Namjoon’s steady breathing helped him focus in on his work.
When he finally turned the small lamp off and stripped down to his boxers, the vibrator was still there on his bed. In the dim night, it was an innocent piece of silicone and technology, nestled on his comforter like it belonged there. He stared at it, trying hard not to think of how many times it may have been used.
You never had a girl put even a little finger? Like while she’s going down, she just slips a pinkie in?
You should try it sometime.
He shuddered and kicked the toy under his bed before collapsing into the sweet, soft respite of his sheets.
Seokjin was convinced that Namjoon’s words had little effect on him. But as the day wore on, he found himself eating less. After vocal lessons, his day was free, so he wandered to the convenience store and found himself in the special hygiene section. Just in case, he thought, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He doubted it would get very far, but he really hadn’t had any alone time recently, and maybe, maybe it would be worth it to try…
It was not worth it to try. By the time Seokjin got out of the shower, he was exhausted and a bit disgusted with himself. It wasn’t even worth it to reach under the bed and actually use the thing, after all the excessive prep work necessary for it; he found a strange and disturbing newfound respect for Jimin. With a sigh, he threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, flopped down on his bed, and decided to nap instead until it was time to start making dinner.
His slumber was short-lived. Namjoon entered the room in a clattering storm of clumsiness, flopping down on Seokjin’s bed with a load groan. Seokjin opened his eyes to a squint and smiled at Namjoon sprawled and sweaty beside him. He had a private dance session today after their main schedule, and it usually left Namjoon sufficiently exhausted.
“You’re sweating on my bed,” Seokjin mused. Namjoon groaned again.
“Sponge bath me, Mama-Jin.”
Seokjin chuckled. “Not in a million years, you big baby.” Seokjin got up and patted Namjoon on the shoulder. “Almost time for dinner, what do you want?”
“I don’t know, just fuck me up.”
“So, no dinner for you then?”
Namjoon pouted. “Curry, please,” he mumbled. He rolled himself off Seokjin’s bed with a whine and leaned back against the wall to watch Seokjin pull his hair back in the mirror.
“How was practice?” Seokjin asked.
“Terrible, as usual. I don’t know when the company is going to realize I cannot dance. I’m a string bean on legs.”
“Jungkook is, too, but he does just fine.”
“Yeah but I’m like a soggy string bean on legs. The ones that flop all over the place like a limp dick and leave a funky taste in your mouth.”
Seokjin pushed a headband up his forehead and tucked loose strands behind his ears.
“You know, it’s times like these where I question just how much action you got in your underground days.”
“What?!” Namjoon barked. “I pulled plenty of action, excuse you.”
“What did you do, trip and fall into a girl’s bed?”
Namjoon sniffed. “That only happened like one time.”
“And what about the other times?”
“I used my secret powers of seduction.”
“No part of you is seductive!”
“It’s not in the parts, it’s how you use them, obviously.”
Seokjin turned to him. Namjoon seemed genuinely upset, pouting like an outraged toddler. “That can’t have actually worked,” he laughed nervously.
“Kim Namjoon’s Strategy of Seduction has a one hundred percent success rate, thank you very much!”
“Oh sure, prove it then!”
And so Namjoon pulled Seokjin towards him, slammed him against the wall of the bedroom and kissed him. He kissed him with something to prove, holding his lips hard and long and deep on Seokjin's. He licked his tongue along Seokjin’s lips and pushed into his mouth. He sucked Seokjin’s tongue between his teeth, as if he could pull the other in closer by it. He nibbled on his lower lip before giving him one final chaste kiss, pulling back just far enough to let their breath intermingle between their lips.
Seokjin felt like he was drowning. Namjoons kisses felt so intimate, so dirty, Seokjin felt like he just committed a sin. Namjoon kissed the way he rapped.
Reality came rushing at Namjoon like the ground after a long fall. It hit him at top speed and he staggered back, the backs of his knees hitting the bed behind him. He sat down dumbly and the bed creaked. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop.” Seokjin cut him off quickly, sternly, like he did when he was about to scold the younger members for not cleaning their rooms. Namjoon waited for the storm that was sure to come. Seokjin wouldn’t yell, but speak very, very loudly about consideration for others and personal boundaries and “the brotherhood of the band,” and make him clean the entire dorm in punishment. He would avoid him for weeks, but they would surely be back to normal before the next comeback. Namjoon knew he was in deep shit now. But the storm never came. Instead, Seokjin moved towards him, sitting gently on the bed beside him. Namjoon held his breath. “I’m not sure why,” he muttered, barely loud enough for Namjoon to hear, “and I’m sure I’m making a terrible mistake, but...I don’t want you to be sorry.”
“Don’t make me say it again, Namjoon.”
They sat in silence for a long while.
“So...what does that mean?” Namjoon finally whispered. Seokjin’s face grew hot. “Does that mean you like me?”
Seokjin felt tears prick at the sides of his eyes. He was so dumb, so unbelievably dumb for believing Namjoon would go along with it. He was a dumb boy, a rapper from the streets with no intelligence to his name. And Seokjin knew that wasn’t true, but he had hoped that maybe, after all this time, Namjoon would like him too…
“Because I’d be okay with that, I think,” Namjoon muttered, almost chuckling. Seokjin was mortified. The kiss meant nothing to Namjoon. Of course it didn’t, how could he be so stupid? It was a joke. He was just a joke.
“I didn’t say it just to fuel your ego, Namjoon. Don’t you patronize me, don’t you dare patronize me,” he said, a high ring starting in his ears.
“I’m not, I swear! What the hell—”
“Just because you think you’re hot shit, just because you’re so cool because some hopeless confused whimp like me likes you, doesn’t give you the right to laugh! Just because you’ve been to heaven and back in a hundred bedrooms does not make you any better than me!” he roared, but his voice broke on the last few words and came out as a whisper. Seokjin didn’t even know why he was getting mad, but it was much better than getting his heart broken by this clumsy puppy of a man. He had liked Namjoon for a long time, and he was well aware of that. It wasn’t much of a wonder that Seokjin had seriously considered putting things up his butt less than a day after Namjoon had mentioned it in passing. He was also aware that there was no way he could reveal his feelings, not without knowing they would be safe in Namjoon’s ears. Taehyung and Jimin were pushing it as it was, and any more canoodling in the dorm would, without a doubt, create chaos. He whispered, “It’s just, the brotherhood of the band, and—”
“Shut. The fuck. Up, about the fucking brotherhood!” Namjoon growled. “I don’t know why you’re getting so God damn mad, but I’m not trying to patronize you. I’m trying to tell you...I’m trying to tell you that I like you, shit.”
“...No, you don’t. Stop it.”
“What? Yes I do!”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying! Seokjin, I don’t know why you think I was some sort of man whore back in the day, but I don’t usually go kissing men on a whim.”
“I know I did. Because I couldn’t control myself, and I saw the opportunity, and I just...I’m just sorry because I didn’t ask you first.”
A cacophonous chorus of “Oh my god” echoed through Seokjin’s mind. Some were confused, others shocked, others squealing like a high school girl’s at a concert. All were crowding logic out of his mind and rendering him effectively speechless.
Namjoon sighed. “It’s really okay if you don’t actually like me back. Let’s just forget about all this, okay?” He got up to leave, and all the voices in Seokjin’s mind screamed at once.
“Oh my god!”
Namjoon stopped and looked back in shock.
“I mean, no! Please don’t leave.” Seokjin took a deep breath. He felt the words, however embarrassing, spilling into his mouth before he could stop them with his lips. This was it. This was the edge of the cliff, the airplane door, and he was ready for whatever was waiting at the bottom.
“I’m tired of watching you leave. I’m tired of not having what I want and doing what I want. Jesus, I don’t even know the last time I rubbed one out! I’m tired of not having you, not having your body in my bed at night and your hand on my waist, I am so God damn tired of it. So please, Namjoon, if you really like me the way I hope you do, lock that door and kiss me again.”
They fell back onto the bed in a mess of long, lanky limbs and grabbing hands. Their kisses fell from affection into hunger, as if somehow they could swallow each other whole. Jin’s head swam. He was still trying to catch up with the situation at hand, still convinced that Namjoon couldn’t really like him the way he said he did. But he shocked back into reality as a broad hand slid quickly from his chest to cup the front of his jeans.
Jin’s high pitched whines and breathy sighs nearly sent Namjoon off the edge. His hands were everywhere, feeling every part of Jin in a whole new way. The curve of his neck, the trembling panes of his chest, and the impossibly soft skin of his stomach as his shirt rid up past his navel all felt brand new under Namjoon’s rough palms. The growing bulge of his pants was entirely new, and Namjoon moaned as he replaced his hand with his own hips on Jin’s. Jin’s hands scrambled across his back and gripped onto his shoulders as he pushed up against him.
Namjoon’s hips were clumsy against Jin’s, their bones colliding painfully but allowing just enough friction to have Jin panting heavily against Namjoon’s neck. He pressed his mouth against the sweat there, tasting salt and body wash and cheap cologne. He felt drunk off the taste. He nipped at the skin just under Namjoon’s ear and was rewarded with a deep moan that vibrated against his chest.
Jin shifted under him, and Namjoon couldn’t control the choked sob that spilled from his lips. On his next grind forward, he was met not by Jin’s hips but by the cleft of his ass. “Seok— damn it, Jinnie…” he whispered, hoarse in Jin’s ear.
“Clothes off,” Jin panted, and Namjoon was quick to oblige.
Namjoon loved the way his dark hands looked across Jin’s impossibly white skin as he pushed his shirt up his chest and over his head. The headband pulled off with it, leaving his hair a tousled mess. He ripped off his own, placed his fingers on the button of Jin’s jeans, and waited. He waited for Jin to push him away, to change his mind, to laugh at him. Anything that would make more sense that what was really happening. But instead, Jin grinned and sat up, one hand weaving into Namjoon’s hair and the other deftly sliding into his shorts. His hand wrapped around his dick and pulled it out from his boxers in one swift motion, the cooler air of the room making Namjoon shiver in shock.
It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but the weight of Namjoon’s dick in his hand felt oddly comforting to Seokjin. It felt right. He stroked it gently a few times, letting his thumb swipe over the tip like he liked it when he was alone. He smiled as Namjoon’s breathing grew shallow, the hand on his jeans shaking as he struggled with Jin’s fly. Namjoon bucked forward as Jin dragged a blunt nail across the underside of his tip and caught Jin in a kiss again. He gently nudged Jin back down onto the sheets, dragging his jeans off in one fell swoop.
Jin shifted his hips up again so that when Namjoon finally freed himself of his shorts and lowered himself over Jin again, his dick nestled easily in between Jin’s ass cheeks. Jin whined at the sensation, the area still sensitive from his ministrations in the shower earlier. As arousal pooled deep in his belly, he was starting to see the benefits of bottoming. Another benefit was how utterly wrecked Namjoon looked above him; his arms shook and his eyebrows were so tightly furrowed Jin was sure he could hold a pen in the divot they made. He smirked, feeling a strange sense of pride that he had made the stoic rapper come so undone with just a few rolls of his hips.
Namjoon fell onto his elbows and buried his head in Seokjin’s neck, using all of his focus not to cum so early. “Jinnie, please,” he begged. “You’re fucking killing me.” Seokjin just giggled with giddy confidence and rolled his hips up again. “You’re so— ah, fuck — so fucking hot I just want to fuck you so bad, please, fucking shit!”
Jin rubbed soothing circles across Namjoon’s back, still playing Mama Jin buck naked under another man. “You know,” he mumbled, “You can.”
Namjoon smiled weakly. “Good to know, but maybe next time. Like, I really don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do. Seriously, there’s so much prep that goes into butt stuff...”
“I know. I did it.”
Seokjin could feel his newfound confidence slowly leaving him. “Well, um...after you told me about the finger thing I thought I might try it out. And I wanted to do it right, so...but I gave up after the shower and then you came in, and I just—”
“Wait, so you’re telling me you’re ready to go...right now? Anytime?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And you want to? With me?”
Jin blushed. “Yeah.”
Namjoon pulled Seokjin into a bruising kiss, both hands cupping the curve of his jaw, before leaping off the bed and running to his own bedside table. He rummaged in the top drawer frantically before pulling out a small packet of lube and a condom. Jin gave him a confused and slightly concerned frown. He shrugged. “Just in case?” he suggested, and leaped back over his bed and over Jin with surprising agility. He carefully poured lube over his fingers and warmed it between his hands. He gently dragged a finger over Jin’s entrance, but stopped when he saw Seokjin biting deep marks into his lower lip.
“You sure you want to do this, Jinnie? You don’t have to.”
“Yes! Yes, I’m sure,” Jin said, a little more enthusiastically than he meant to. Just the drag of Namjoon’s finger had his dick twitching slightly and it was driving him mad. “Are you sure you know how to do the…with the fingers and…?”
“Yep. Honestly, I was a little curious too, after we found that thing, so...anyways, you ready?”
Jin took a deep breath. “Yeah. Hell yeah.”
The first finger slid in gentler than Jin thought it would. The stretch still stung a little, but Namjoon’s hand gently stroking his dick distracted him from it. After Namjoon could easily move his finger, he hooked just the tip of his second finger on the rim. Seokjin’s breath hitched, and his dick softened slightly in Namjoon’s hand. He moved to pull his finger out but Jin grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Keep going,” he whispered and Namjoon’s mouth went dry. He poured more lube over his hand and slowly pushed the second finger in.
Jin sighed when Namjoon finally had both knuckle deep inside him, the stretch now a welcome pull. The pace at which Namjoon moved was agonizingly slow. One part of him loved how caring and gentle Namjoon was being, but the other growing part just wanted Namjoon’s dick inside him already. He whined and pushed back against Namjoon’s hand, pushing his fingers deeper inside him. Namjoon just smiled and curled his fingers slightly, trying to find that one spot every tutorial video raved about…
“OH MY GOD, THERE, THERE, THERE, SHIT NAMJOON FUCK ME THERE!” Seokjin gasped, clapped a hand over his mouth, and went bright red. Namjoon looked up at him with wide eyes and a slowly widening grin. Found it.
He fucked his fingers into Seokjin faster, brushing against his prostate with each stroke. Jin writhed and squirmed under him, his eyes rolling back into his head, moans and gasps spilling out past the hand clasped over his mouth. His dick went rock hard again in Namjoon’s hand. Namjoon watched, awe-struck, as Seokjin lost himself in new and overwhelming pleasure. Seokjin grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him down to whisper in his ear:
“Fuck— fuck me, Namjoon, please, NOW.”
He slipped his fingers out of Seokjin quickly, and Seokjin whined at the loss. He pulled the condom over his dick in record time and positioned himself at Seokjin’s entrance. “You ready?” he asked.
Seokjin scoffed. “Yes, dumbass, what part of fuck me do you not understand?!”
Namjoon’s chuckle turned into a deep groan as he slowly pushed past Seokjin’s entrance. “Fuck, Jinnie, you’re so tight.”
Seokjin replied with a breathy moan, his jaw slack in painful pleasure. Once he was fully seated inside, Namjoon peppered gentle kisses along his neck and waited for Seokjin to relax around him. “Can I move?” he asked, and Jin nodded fervently.
Namjoon’s thrusts were smooth and deep, quickly gaining speed as Seokjin’s heat pulled him closer and closer to climax. Each stroke pressed Namjoon’s dick against the spot his fingers just barely touched, and Seokjin couldn’t think of a time he had ever been so hard. He could feel his orgasm gathering deep in his core as Namjoon pushed faster and faster. Jin grasped the arms bracketing his head for dear life. “I’m gonna, Namjoon!” he gasped.
“Me too, Jinnie— ” Namjoon’s hips stuttered as he leaned down to kiss Seokjin, catching all his moans as he spilled over his own hand and stomach. The edges of Namjoon’s vision went blurry, and he came hard with only a few more thrusts. He collapsed over Seokjin, who was still shuddering gently as he fell from his high. He lifted his head to look up at him, and had never seen the singer look so utterly wrecked and blissed out. Seokjin opened his eyes and giggled breathlessly. “Shit,” he said. “I am so fucking gay.”
A loud knock thundered against the door. They both jumped, and Seokjin winced as Namjoon shifted inside him.
“Seokjinniiiiiiiieeee!” Jungkook’s voice cut through high and whiney. Namjoon growled sorely. “When are you gonna make dinner? I’m hunnggrryyy!”
“Be out in a minute!”
“Why not now?” The doorknob rattled, and Seokjin thanked every god he knew that Namjoon locked it. “I’m so hungry I’m gonna diiiieee!”
“Well I’m gonna diiiiiiieeeee if you don’t leave me alone for two seconds while I put some clothes on!” he replied mockingly. Jungkook gave one final whine but finally stomped away.
Namjoon burst out laughing, and Seokjin slapped him gently on the chest. He pulled out slowly, both wincing slightly at the pull, and disposed of the condom in the small wastebasket between the beds. As he did, he caught a glimpse of purple underneath the bed. He picked up the vibrator and dangled it from one hand. “So...next time?” he mused.
Seokjin chucked a violent pillow at Namjoon’s face, but smiled. “Go get me a towel first, then we’ll talk.”