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Go For The Gold

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Namjoon cheers wildly from the sideline as Taehyung passes the baton to a bouncing Hoseok, whose lean legs carry him off at lightning speed. He circles his quarter of the track in seconds, completing his pass to Jungkook before cutting across the inner circle to get to the finish line. If possible, Jungkook is even faster than Hoseok, easily securing a first place finish for Bangtan.

They all gather around the youngest and slap his back in congratulations, Yoongi replaying Jimin's run with wild gesticulations and Seokjin nudging each of them in turn, a softer sort of celebration. Namjoon finds himself drawn to Hoseok like a moth to flame, the other's face aglow with victory - his competitive spirit is less aggressive than Jungkook's, but it runs just as deep.

"Nice medal," he says, nodding at the gleaming gold circle draped around Hoseok's neck.

Hoseok smiles, the corners of his lips curling upwards in a suspiciously cheshire fashion. "Hold onto it for me?" he asks, already pulling the ribbon over his head. Namjoon doesn't have time to respond before Hoseok is looping the medal over his neck, giving it a final tap with his fingertips as he walks casually away.

Something about the whole exchange sets Namjoon on edge, his senses tingling throughout the rest of the events whenever he feels the cool weight of the gold through his thin t-shirt.


The dorm is a mess of athletic socks and tennis shoes and discarded uniforms less than thirty seconds after they get home, a whirlwind of sweaty bodies desperate for clean clothes. The queue for the shower is determined quickly, all of them ready to head out for dinner on the company after their impressive showing at the day's games. One by one, people filter out of the living room until Namjoon is left with a curiously quiet Hoseok.

"Play along," Hoseok hisses when the bathroom door swings open and reveals Jin, all broad shoulders, bathed in steam and smelling strongly of his floral body wash.

"You're up," Seokjin says as he walks through the living room in search of more clean towels.

Hoseok scrunches his nose and fakes thoughtful. "I think I might have strained something today, hyung. I might just skip dinner if that's alright."

Namjoon looks at Hoseok with a question in his eye, but the older ignores him in favor of massaging roughly at his calf. Seokjin immediately goes into nurture-mode, flinging his half-naked body at the floor of Hoseok's chair and delicately wrapping his fingers around the afflicted joint.

"Oh! It does seem a little swollen! I'll call a manager right away so they can get you to the hospital." Seokjin makes to break away and dig his cell phone out of his duffle bag but Hoseok catches him by the wrist.

"They'll just tell me to rest it anyways, you know that. I'll be fine by myself."

Namjoon opens his mouth to interject and is cut off by a sharp look from Hoseok.

"You can't stay here by yourself!" Seokjin practically screeches, completely missing the terse exchange between the two younger members. "It's a group celebration! The kids will be so upset."

Hoseok subtly motions to Namjoon, who finally catches on.

"Um.. I'll stay with him, hyung. Pretty tired anyways," he shrugs. Seokjin gives him a look that very clearly says you didn't even compete today but remains quiet, conceding to Namjoon's offer. The eldest heads to the room he shares with Yoongi to get dressed and leaves Namjoon and Hoseok alone in awkward silence in the living room.

The younger members put up a decent fight, with Jungkook even volunteering to piggyback Hoseok to the van, but Hoseok remains resolute that a little rest is all he needs. Jimin, being the gracious sweetheart that he is, promises to bring home a box for each of them and Namjoon cringes at the younger's sincerity in the face of their deception. Hoseok thanks him with an affectionate tap on the butt and shoos them all out.

Yoongi turns and makes a face at them right before he steps over the threshold and Namjoon feels his skin tingling with the impending threat of being found out.

"He knows," Namjoon tells Hoseok, who just shrugs.

"And? He left, didn't he?"

Namjoon heaves a deep breath and scrubs his hand down over his face in a lame attempt at covering up the red splotches he can feel popping up on his skin. When he pulls his hand away, Hoseok is right there, beckoning him forwards with thin fingers. Namjoon's cheeks are still burning but he lets Hoseok pull him out of his seat and down the hallway toward the room he shares with Jungkook. They make it just outside the door before Hoseok stops in his tracks and pulls lightly on the medal still hanging from Namjoon's neck to close the distance between them. Kissing Hoseok is as exciting as it is familiar now.

"Been waiting all day for this," Hoseok slurs, punch-drunk with anticipation. His hands slide under the thin tank Namjoon left on for modesty's sake and he brushes lightly over first one nipple then the other.

Namjoon hums affirmatively into the kiss, fingers finding a grip on the heated skin of Hoseok's biceps. "You did great today," he says. "Looked so good."

He can feel Hoseok smiling even as the older tugs at his bottom lip with teeth too ambitious. "Didn't I?" Hoseok laughs, the laugh he reserves for when the cameras are off, when it's just the two of them and their bodies are moving faster than their minds and the whole situation takes on a feverish buzz and it's not really funny but what other reaction is there?

Hoseok pushes his hands up farther, up and up, over Namjoon's collarbones and then slides his shirt off expertly. Namjoon knows the cues well enough now that he lifts his arms without even thinking, letting the gold medal fall back against his chest. It's cool, almost cold on his hot skin, and thuds unceremoniously against the thin skin covering his sternum.

Hoseok sucks air in over his teeth, tracing the thick blue ribbon with one finger. "God, I love that," he says, voice low and taking on that rumbly quality he has a habit of slipping into that makes Namjoon's heart race.

"Looked better on you," Namjoon huffs against Hoseok's earlobe. His black hair is trimmed short again at the nape of his neck and Namjoon has to resort to running his fingers through the hair on top, pulling lightly to tip Hoseok's head back and expose the long column of his throat. Briefly he laments the restrictions that keep him from sucking shades of red and purple onto Hoseok's rose-gold skin, but the moment is too right and he appeases himself with fluttering kisses dotting the bare expanse.

Between them, Namjoon feels the rush of fingers over the tie of Hoseok's sweatpants, hears the dull thunk of the fabric as it hits the floor. Instinctively, he drops his hands to cup Hoseok's ass through his briefs, squeezing roughly when Hoseok chances another bite at his already-swollen lower lip.

"Careful," Namjoon warns, using his grip to guide Hoseok farther into the bedroom. "Don't break the skin again, asshole."

Hoseok has the decency to look at least temporarily apologetic before he turns and pushes Namjoon down onto the small mattress, breath coming in shakes and shudders as hands and lips become far from enough. Namjoon cants his hips upward to allow Hoseok to pull off his shorts and boxers in one go; the cold air stings his bare skin but Hoseok is on him immediately, burning in all the right places.

Their hips roll together and Namjoon swears he sees stars. Hoseok is so hard already, tenting his briefs obscenely and providing the perfect amount of friction when he curls down and in again, like a scene from a 19+ MV. Namjoon can't find a place for his hands to rest, desperate to feel every square inch of skin he can get to. He runs his fingertips down the ridges of Hoseok's ribs, then follows the v-line of his abs to the tuft of dark hair just below the waistband of his boxers.

"Come on," he mumbles, pulling at the elastic so Hoseok has no choice but to follow. "Hobi, come on."

Hoseok is flustered too, evident in the way he stumbles gracelessly while shoving his own underwear down. He reaches to the side, digging around between the mattress and box spring where they keep the lube but Namjoon pulls him back up with some force. His face is a blur of confusion; he looks between Namjoon's hand on his wrist and their secret hideaway repeatedly as if some clarification will suddenly appear.

"Just get me off," Namjoon finally chokes out. The weight of Hoseok digging into the tops of his thighs borders on painful but he looks so unbelievably good, skin shining with sweat, hair brushed back carelessly from his forehead. The tension between them has been ratcheting up all day and Hoseok's body seems taut with kinetic energy.

"You sure?" Hoseok's voice cracks on the words as he ruts down into the crook of Namjoon's groin, hard cock sliding past Namjoon's own length with the aid of the pre-cum already he's leaking. "'s that enough?"

Namjoon grunts, rolling his hips up and into Hoseok's open palm, hovering so close but not quite where he needs it to be. Hoseok hisses something that sounds like a reluctant agreement and spits into his hand with a vulgarity reserved for their most desperate, rushed encounters. The older takes one deep breath, then two, steadying himself so that their cocks are close enough to touch with every twitch and hitch of breath.

"Tell me how I did today." The words are whisper-quiet and Hoseok peeks up at Namjoon through dark lashes, that unnerving glint back in his eyes. A fingertip traces lazily around Namjoon's ridge while Hoseok waits for a reply.

Namjoon can barely form words because of the maddeningly slow pace Hoseok has reverted to. "So good," he says, but he really means please. "You were so fucking fast, I swear." So speed it up now goes unspoken as well.

Hoseok hums, an airy release of sound, just enough to distract Namjoon before he wraps delicate fingers around Namjoon's length. With some maneuvering, he manages to get both of them in one hand, though he sacrifices friction. It's too light, mind-numbing in how insanely good it feels while still being feather-light. Hoseok's hand looks so perfect like this, golden skin almost pale in comparison to Namjoon's throbbing dick. The size difference -Namjoon thicker and more stout, Hoseok's longer with less girth - forces Hoseok into a stilted rhythm that makes it impossible for Namjoon to get off with just this.

Namjoon looks up to watch Hoseok's reaction as he bats the older's hand away, replacing it with his larger palm and longer fingers, easily able to accommodate the both of them. Hoseok takes the switch in stride, settling back on his hips with his head tipped back, lower lip trapped between his perfect teeth. As Namjoon establishes a pace, Hoseok lifts slightly on his knees, fucking up into Namjoon's grip like he does on the rare occasions that they had the time, and Namjoon the wherewithal, for the blond to ride him on some dressing room couch or in the back of the company van.

"Joonie, fuck," Hoseok groans, moving one hand to Namjoon's shoulder and tangling the other in the ribbon around his neck, pulling it tight so Namjoon is lifted an inch or two away from the headboard.

Hoseok's eyes are squeezed tight, a furrow in his brow that makes him look almost angry, and Namjoon knows he's close. He doesn't even try to slow down his own impending orgasm, the heat building in his gut a sure precursor to an all-too-soon release. "God, your ass looked so good in those sweatpants, Hobi," he murmurs as he pulls Hoseok's face down with his free hand so that they're making eye contact. "Couldn't wait to get you home and see you like this."

Hoseok's muscles jerk once, twice, and Namjoon feels a telltale heat spatter across his chest. What doesn't make it to his chest drips down onto his fingers and makes the slide that much easier. Hoseok is as close to over-stimulation as Namjoon ever pushes him when Namjoon's own orgasm washes over him in a white haze. He lets his head fall back as he adds to the mess Hoseok has made already, stroking himself until his breath evens out and his vision returns to normal.

He opens his eyes to Hoseok staring down at him from above, that lop-sided grin gracing his features and clear intent to do something Namjoon won't approve of written across his face. Hoseok swipes sticky fingers through the cum on Namjoon's skin, making sure he has eye contact before sliding his fingers into his mouth, leaving smudges on his lips that are as disgusting as they are appealing.

"Made a mess," Hoseok hums, playing in their combined spunk like he's finger-painting.

Namjoon's face is still hot from getting off but the heat renews with every flick of Hoseok's fingers, spreading cum across his nipple before the older leans down to suck the nub into his mouth. "Y-you're making it worse," Namjoon finally manages to spit out, hips bucking up involuntarily when Hoseok finds just the right amount of suction.

When Hoseok finally pulls away, his focus catches on the medal still looped over Namjoon's neck. The little gold disc didn't escape the carnage and is covered in sticky release. Namjoon makes to grab it and wipe it off with his t-shirt but Hoseok is quicker, snatching it up and giving it a thoughtful once-over before laving over the warm metal with his tongue. He never breaks eye contact with Namjoon and the younger feels his heart skip a beat because fucking Hoseok. Nobody else could pull off something so indecent but Hoseok does it with a quirk of his lips that hints at a full smile.

"Gross-" Namjoon is cut off with Hoseok's mouth on his, the bitter taste of cum- his? Hoseok's?- lingering long into the kiss when Hoseok pushes his tongue past the barrier of Namjoon's teeth. Hoseok had been holding so much in his mouth that Namjoon feels the thick slide of it against his tongue and down his throat. His hands move to push Hoseok away but as the surprise wears off, he just pulls him closer, letting himself revel in one more kiss, filthy as it is, before they have to return to the real world.


The rest of the group returns to Namjoon nodding off in his bed while Hoseok, sprawled out on Jungkook's bed, plays a game on his phone.

"Hyung!" Jimin shouts excitedly, words directed at Hoseok. "Where's your medal? We're going to hang them all in the living room window together."

Namjoon's tired eyes fly open and immediately meet Hoseok's who plays off his bewilderment a little more believably.