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hot mess (and i'm falling for you)

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It’s not a bad job. Not the worst he’s had. Definitely better than the delivery thing he had going for a while, the one he still has nightmares about. Learning all the drinks by heart and figuring out how to make them without breaking everything was weirdly challenging, and Yoongi isn’t particularly fond of working the graveyard shift all the damn time because he’s just a man who likes his sleep, but it’s not bad. Working at night means it’s not interfering with his classes, so that’s important, plus he’ll be working alone most of the time, and that’s actually pretty great. And it’s not like there’s a whole lot of people in a coffee shop at three in the morning, so he’ll have a lot of time to work on his projects without anyone distracting him, he’s kind of looking forward to that.

Right now though, he’s still too new to be left alone. It’s his last night working with Jungkook, who’s been teaching him everything there is to know about the job. It was Jungkook who got it for him too, Yoongi is pretty much convinced the kid would do anything for him and it’s a little disorienting sometimes, but he’s thankful for this one. He and Jungkook share the same major, but Yoongi is almost done and Jungkook is only just starting, so Jungkook looks up to him a lot. And Yoongi just thinks he’s kind of adorable.

So they’ve been getting along pretty well in college, and now they’re also getting along pretty well at work. Jungkook hates working nights even more than Yoongi does, so he’s happy to leave Yoongi alone starting tomorrow, but they’re still getting through this one night together.

It’s a little over half past midnight when the door to the modern looking little shop swings open and both Yoongi and Jungkook look up from their phones and put on their polite customer service smiles. Jungkook’s falters quickly, though.

“Ah,” he says, quietly, so only Yoongi can hear. “I was wondering when they’d show up.”

They are a group of three boys, all looking somewhere between Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s age, all in tight pants and leather jackets like a uniform, one’s hair is lightened, another one’s is almost purple, they all look tactically disheveled and a little too disinterested to be the only customers in a coffee shop. They also all look like troublemakers, but Yoongi thinks that they look like they’re trying to look like troublemakers, and that kind of takes the danger out of the atmosphere for him.

The one with the lilac hair strolls forward to the counter first, hands in the pockets of his jacket. He’d be pretty, Yoongi thinks, if he stopped looking at people like they’re miles beneath him. He’s got a nice pout on his lips, and that faint hint of smudged eyeliner around his eyes makes him look like a beautiful disaster, but Jungkook has a look of pure disgust on his face, so the guy is officially off limits.

“Hello, Taehyung,” says Jungkook, in a voice so cold that Yoongi almost shoots him an impressed glance. He’s never heard him talk like that.

‘Taehyung’ throws him a short, indifferent look before redirecting his gaze towards the list of drinks. “Jungkook.”

For all the coolkid getup, Yoongi finds it kind of hilarious that the guy orders a hot chocolate with extra cream, but, alright. He tells him to just write Tae on the plastic cup, so Yoongi does that, not yet ready to ask him what the hell he did to Jungkook to make the poor kid look at him like that, even though he’d kind of like to. He’s not overly fond of the thought of someone hurting Jungkook, and Tae did hurt him in a way, Yoongi can tell that much.

His two friends, Jimin and Hobi according to their cups, order coffee and wait for Jungkook and Yoongi to finish their orders while leaning against the counter with Taehyung coolly and watching them in complete silence. Yoongi thinks they’re being a little pathetic, but then again, he still has no idea who these guys are. Maybe they’re like a local gang, or something. Or they’re practicing for their newest performance of Grease.

They leave once they have their drinks, and as soon as the door closes behind them, Yoongi turns to watch Jungkook relax slowly, actually heaving a long exhale like he’d been held at gunpoint until just now.

“Who was that?” Yoongi asks carefully.

Jungkook makes a dismissive noise at the back of his throat, and turns to start cleaning the sink with a furious kind of thoroughness Yoongi isn’t used to from him. “They used to be my friends,” he says, spitting the last word out like dirt, and Yoongi can feel a bitter taste in his mouth. “But they’re not anymore, and they still come here a couple times a week, order their shit and leave. I mean, it’s not like they do anything bad, it probably shouldn’t piss me off as much as it does, but our friendship’s over and they just…”

He waves one hand around, throwing soap suds through their area behind the counter. “There’s enough other coffee shops all over the city for them,” Yoongi finishes for him. “They could be going there instead of still bothering you when they know you work nights here.”

Jungkook just nods, and Yoongi sighs quietly. Yeah, that’s a dick move. This Taehyung person is an asshole.


Over the course of the night, Jungkook tells him more. They sit on stools behind the counter, the streets outside deserted, and Jungkook tells Yoongi that they used to be a group of four, and they actually were troublemakers. Apparently Jimin and Taehyung almost got expelled from high school once, Hoseok ran away from home for a week a few years ago and lived in a subway station until they caught him - Jungkook doesn’t say much about what he himself did when they were friends, but he lets Yoongi feel that he was right there with them. And he was enjoying it.

Then the end came, out of nowhere. Jungkook says that Taehyung friend-dumped him, just walked up to him one day and said that they won’t hang out together anymore and Jungkook can go and have a nice life, and that was it. Jimin and Hoseok stayed with Taehyung, and Jungkook was left alone, just like that.

Yoongi actually feels like spilling some of that very hot chocolate in Taehyung’s face next time he parades in here, but he needs this job.

Plus, Jungkook says the three of them still stir up trouble wherever they go. He tells Yoongi that a lot of peers their age didn’t take them very seriously until recently, when Taehyung actually got arrested for something. Nobody knows what exactly happened, but everyone tells each other that it was the real deal, with cop cars pulling up outside his home, leading him out in handcuffs and everything.

Now people are starting to actually be scared of Taehyung and his friends, and Jungkook says they seem stupidly satisfied by that.

Yoongi isn’t scared.


From here on out, he’s alone at night. The leather jacket trio comes often now, three or four times a week, always ordering the same drinks, always waiting wordlessly, never staying in the shop to drink. With Yoongi being the only barista here, it wouldn’t really be necessary anymore to write their names on the cups, and he doesn’t do it for Jimin and Hobi (what the hell kind of name is Hobi), but he does for Taehyung.

Because Taehyung still struts to his counter like he’s trying to make Yoongi swoon and fall over. Taehyung still leans his elbows too close to him and licks his lips before ordering, Taehyung still holds unnecessary eye contact while sucking on his straw before they turn and leave. Taehyung is a little shit trying to flirt with Yoongi, when all Yoongi can think of when looking at his pretty face is how Jungkook’s shoulders stiffened when he looked at him.

So, Yoongi still writes Taehyung’s name on the cups. Spelled as horribly as he can.

He just writes Dae first, to test the waters. Taehyung cocks a brow at him and shrugs.

Yoongi writes Taeyang next and draws a little sun right next to it, to watch Taehyung stare at the cup for a solid minute, frowning in confusion, until Jimin takes him by the arm and drags him outside.

Next time, he writes Taeyang again, but he got one of the girls in Jungkook’s class to give him some of her Big Bang stickers and puts a sticker of Big Bang’s Taeyang on the cup next to his handwriting. Taehyung stares at it again, but when he looks up this time he actually seems distinctly pissed off. “It’s Tae,” he hisses in Yoongi’s direction. “Just Tae.”

Next time he comes in, Yoongi writes Justae on the cup and Taehyung rolls his eyes with a loud sigh.

He makes an exception after that and puts all his remaining Big Bang stickers on the next cup instead of writing a name, and Taehyung just gives him a bemused look while having Hoseok giggle into his shoulder with wild abandon.

He writes Tee next, then Taa, Too, Aet, and Eat. When he finally just calls him Toe on his cup, Taehyung looks just about ready to throw it in his face, especially with Jimin and Hoseok literally shaking at his sides with how bad they’re trying to contain their laughter.

Two days later, it’s just Jimin and Hoseok walking up to his counter. Yoongi raises his brows at them, as he grabs cups and starts preparing their orders. “Where’s Toe?” he asks, unable to hide a stupid little smirk. “Did I take it too far with that and he’s pouting?”

The ghost of a suppressed laugh flashes over Jimin’s face, but it doesn’t last long this time. He stays quiet, fiddling with the bill between his fingers, while Hoseok shakes his head.

“Nah, he never comes here on Wednesdays. He spends those with his grandma,” says Hoseok. He sounds casual, but completely serious, like he actually means that, and Yoongi fights back a laugh himself now. He’s really been wondering how tough these guys can be - he hasn’t talked about them to Jungkook anymore because obviously the topic didn’t exactly make Jungkook happy, but they seemed to have a good friendship going before Taehyung ruined it. They seem to hang out as often as they can, they still frequent the same coffee shop multiple times a week despite Jungkook not working nights anymore, and Taehyung drinks hot chocolate with cream and visits his grandmother every week.

Then again, Taehyung did supposedly get his ass arrested.

“I don’t know what Jungkook told you,” Jimin says quietly, when Hoseok has his coffee and turned away a little. He’s still fiddling with his money, but Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on the drink he’s still preparing. “But we miss him, too. Tae misses him.”

What the fuck. Yoongi looks up with a frown, narrows his eyes at Jimin until Jimin is the one who looks like he’d want to turn around and run away from Yoongi right now. “Tell him that,” says Yoongi, shoving Jimin’s coffee at him, “not me.”

He doesn’t expect them to do that, of course. He doesn’t tell Jungkook about it either, that wouldn’t feel right, and the next time Yoongi works the night shift, it’s the three of them again, so everything feels back to normal.

Until Taehyung slides his money across the counter along with a scrap of paper, a phone number scrawled across it in nearly illegible handwriting. Yoongi stares at it for a good few seconds, then he looks up unimpressed.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

Taehyung looks back just as unconcerned. “Ideally,” he drawls, “you’ll type it into your phone and press the green button. Then, magic will happen, and you’ll be able to hear my voice through your phone. Technology is amazing.”

Prick. Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Why would I wanna call you,” he says, not bothering to hide the annoyance from his voice. He’s given up treating them like normal customers anyway.

He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but he has to admit he’s caught a little off guard with Taehyung’s shrug and the sudden sweet smile on that dangerous face, which makes him look a little too filthy for Yoongi’s liking. “‘Cause I’m cute,” he says. Then he watches, entirely unfazed, how Yoongi takes the paper and drops it in the nearest bin. “What time do you get off?”

With a heavy sigh, Yoongi slides his hot chocolate (for a certain Tap) over to him. This is starting to look like Taehyung isn’t going to give up anytime soon, so he might as well tell him. “Five,” he just says. He’s still not sure what Taehyung even wants from him, and Yoongi still isn’t scared, but he might be a little nervous now. Maybe this really is just a continuation of Taehyung’s stubborn flirting, but maybe this is about him and Jungkook, and about Yoongi obviously being on Jungkook’s side.

“I’ll be out back,” says Taehyung. Then he leaves with Jimin and Hoseok, with a last wink in Yoongi’s direction that makes Yoongi send him off with an exaggeratedly disgusted glare.

He checks the time once they’re gone. Four hours left.


Cool morning air greets him as he leaves the coffee shop through the back door, his colleagues working the early shift bustling around inside. He slips his coat over his shoulders and yawns quietly, it’s still mostly dark, sunlight only slowly starting to creep over the horizon. Maybe he’ll catch at least an hour or two of sleep until he gets up for class again.

A lanky figure moves to his left, putting a phone in a back pocket of pants that are too tight to let Yoongi still feel tired. Taehyung peels himself off the wall he was leaning against, and just casually starts walking next to Yoongi while he takes up his course towards the subway station.

“What do you want,” says Yoongi. He doesn’t bother letting it sound like a question. He wants to go home and sleep.

“Well, to be honest,” says Taehyung, stretching his stupidly long arms over his head while they walk, “I wanna take you to a hotel and fuck you until noon or something, but I’m getting the vibe that you’re not really on board with that, so I’m gonna respect that.”

Yoongi closes his eyes for a few seconds. This is just terrific. “Charming,” he just says. They come to a halt in front of a red light, and Yoongi throws him an annoyed look. “Listen, Toe, Jungkook is a very good friend of mine. He’s important to me. Maybe you should be aware of that before you try to ask me out.”

Taehyung barks out a laugh. “I wasn’t asking you out. I was trying to get laid. I don’t do dates.”

Right. Yoongi just rolls his eyes with a dismissive gesture. Judging by Taehyung’s words, that might be true, but giving Yoongi his number and waiting outside the coffee shop at five in the morning sounds like a lot of effort for just that. Still, Yoongi guesses it might not have been for asking out purposes in the end. He guesses it might not have been about him at all. And Taehyung is about to confirm that guess.

“How’s Kookie been doing?”

The question is airy, like he’s just trying to make conversation while they cross the street. Yoongi snorts. “Wouldn’t you like to know, huh.”

Taehyung snorts, too. “Okay,” he just says quietly. “Well, I’m glad he’s got friends like you now who care about him.”

Yoongi squints at him. He kind of sounds like he means it, somewhere in there, but he also still sounds aloof and like an asshole, and if he’s being completely honest here Taehyung is starting to confuse him. Which just pisses him off even further. Yoongi isn’t about to play guessing games with this pathetically mysterious loser.

“Why’d you friend-dump him?” he asks bluntly.

That seems to catch Taehyung by surprise. He turns his head a little to look at Yoongi, raising his eyebrows, and then he almost walks into a lamp post. Hands still in his pockets, he staggers a little, long legs regaining his balance and he looks like he’s fucking dancing, like it’s not embarrassing to him at all, tip-toeing back into place right next to Yoongi. Fucker.

“What did he tell you?” he asks back.

“That he has no idea,” Yoongi just says, hoping he isn’t saying too much here. “Says it came out of nowhere.”

“What, he didn’t even venture a guess?” Taehyung isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s watching the sky, idly, but Yoongi doesn’t buy it.

“I just told you he doesn’t have a clue. He just thinks you’re an asshole, and he’s obviously right.”

Taehyung’s jaw sets. Yoongi watches him grit his teeth for a second, then he turns his head away even further, looking into the other direction. They walk past a playground, eerily empty in the dark, before Yoongi rounds a corner and takes the steps underground to the subway, almost expecting Taehyung to lose him because he’s still looking away, but Taehyung stays right beside him.

The subway station is empty save for them, it’s quiet here, and weirdly bright after walking through the dark above them. “His mom told me to back off,” Taehyung says.

“What?” Yoongi actually stares at him now, unsure whether he should laugh or not. Jungkook doesn’t talk about his parents much, but this still sounds off.

There’s a grin on Taehyung’s lips now that’s so bitter that Yoongi can almost taste it in the back of his throat, like the coffee he never orders. “I dunno how she found out that I’m into dudes, but she doesn’t want me turning her son into a filthy homosexual.”

Oh. Yoongi doesn’t waste a second not believing him, he somehow just knows that Taehyung is telling the truth, and it’s making his stomach turn and his throat constrict. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for Taehyung but he kind of does, and he feels sorry for Jungkook too (who already came out as bi to Yoongi like two days after they met). He feels more sorry for Jungkook than for Taehyung though, and it shows in the quiet scoff he still manages.

“So you’ve been his friend for, what, years?” he says, watching Taehyung intently now. Taehyung watches the empty tracks. “Jungkook told me about you four, you were a good team. You went through shit together and you’re letting his mother end it like that without, I don’t know, fucking telling Jungkook? Talking it through with him, coming up with a solution? You, Mister leather jackets and roaming the streets every night, who got himself arrested for god knows what, are too scared to take it up with his mom?”

“I got arrested for stealing a dog,” Taehyung says quietly. He goes on before Yoongi can voice his confusion, though. “I’m not scared for myself, okay? I’m not chickening out because I think she’ll kick my ass.” He shoots Yoongi a quick look, pausing just long enough for Yoongi to realize the implication he’s trying to make. “You haven’t met her, have you?”

“No,” Yoongi says slowly, the burning in his stomach now almost unbearable.

“She doesn’t hit him or anything,” Taehyung says with a tiny shrug, making Yoongi relax at least a little bit. “She’s just … not very nice. I don’t want him to get in trouble, it’d get really ugly, and I don’t wanna be responsible for putting him through that.” He huffs a quiet, helpless little laugh. “I was gonna wait until he moves out from there before I tell him about everything, but then you had to come along and get mad at me without ever actually talking to me.”

“You can’t blame me for that,” Yoongi blurts out, cursing himself for it immediately afterwards. This isn’t the right time to get defensive.

“I don’t,” Taehyung says calmly. Then he jerks his head to the right a little, towards the unmistakable sound growing louder. “There’s your ride.”

So their conversation ends there, and Yoongi can’t do anything but get on his subway train and feel dumbfounded. He stands between tired businesspeople going to work, stares out the window where Taehyung still stands, hands in the pockets of his worn out leather jacket, staring right back. As the train moves out of the station, Yoongi remembers that he threw his number into the trash.


Luckily, of course Taehyung returns to the coffee shop with his friends the next time Yoongi works the night shift. He behaves the same way as usual so Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s told Jimin and Hoseok about their talk in the subway station, but he supposes it doesn’t matter for now.

Instead of misspelling his name, this time Yoongi just writes his phone number on the cup. Taehyung’s face lights up considerably before he quickly catches himself and pulls it into a smug smirk instead, but Yoongi keeps holding on to the cup while Taehyung’s already trying to pull it towards himself. “This is for whenever you decide to stop being a shithead and talk to Jungkook,” he says quietly, just to make clear he’s still not willing to let Taehyung escort him to some horrifying hotel to fuck. “I wanna help.”

“Sure,” Taehyung says.

Naturally, the first time he calls Yoongi barely a day later, he starts the conversation by asking if Yoongi would be more inclined if Taehyung promises to let him top. Yoongi tells him no and hangs up. Taehyung immediately calls him again and asks how he should handle things with Jungkook.

So, they talk.

Yoongi has a feeling that Taehyung needs a little nudge to handle things the adult way, so he offers him help in setting up a situation where he can just have a calm, honest talk with Jungkook. Taehyung doesn’t know what to say to Jungkook, so Yoongi helps him with that too. Yoongi also has a feeling that Taehyung occasionally needs help to put whatever his brain is coming up with into words that make sense. Luckily, Yoongi is good at putting things into words, and they find ways to not make Taehyung sound like an asshole, or make the whole thing sound forced. Taehyung calls him again to talk specifics on when and where and how exactly they’re going to do this, and then he calls him again the day before it’s supposed to happen, to review what he’s going to say while also somehow trying to act like he’s not nervous but super cool about everything.

It takes them roughly a week to organize everything. It’s a Thursday when Yoongi invites Jungkook to come visit him during his night shift, because he knows Jungkook needs to study and likes doing that in coffee shops or late at night, so he can combine these two and give Yoongi some company. He feels a little bad about lying to him like that when in reality Taehyung is going to show up and try to talk to him, but in the end, Yoongi will be there too. If things derail and go to shit somehow, he’s ready to kick Taehyung out, quite literally, and be there for Jungkook with a million apologies.

To make Yoongi feel even worse, Jungkook sends him a look that’s half panic and half plain betrayal when Taehyung strolls into the coffee shop wordlessly, without Jimin and Hoseok this time, and just sits down across from Jungkook, completely ignoring the books spread on the small table in front of him. Yoongi looks back at him as calm as he can, trying to convey somehow that this is planned, and it’s fine and he’s got his back, but he doesn’t know how much it’s actually helping.

He doesn’t listen while they talk. Music is playing softly in the shop, and Yoongi busies himself with cleaning and staring pointlessly at his phone (nothing happens on Twitter at two in the morning). He only glances their way now and then, to make sure they’re not punching each other or something, to make sure Jungkook is still alive and breathing and Yoongi doesn’t have to hurt Taehyung for hurting Jungkook.

But they’re calm. He hears Jungkook’s voice grow a little louder once for a few words, then it gets a lot softer instead, that’s all. They talk quietly almost the entire time, and then Yoongi watches both of them get up from the corner of his eye, and hug for what has to be at least two minutes. He smiles a little stupidly to himself, even if Jungkook’s eyes look a little glassy and bloodshot when he finally looks up. He’s just not going to mention that, save Jungkook the embarrassment.

Taehyung is hopping out of the shop without saying goodbye to Yoongi, but once he’s outside, he throws him the most rectangular grin Yoongi has ever seen through a window, and two thumbs-ups. Yoongi just cocks a brow at him until he leaves.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says, very quietly, once they’re completely alone again. His voice sounds a bit hoarse, and Yoongi looks him over once, before he looks back to the glass he was cleaning, and nods.

“Sorry about ambushing you like that. Your Taehyung was too nervous for anything else.”

He looks up briefly, just in time to see Jungkook smile to himself with a soft frown. “My Taehyung,” he echoes. He doesn’t say anything after that.

Once the glass can’t get any cleaner in this plane of reality, Yoongi sets it down very gently, straightens his back, and clears his throat as he looks at Jungkook. There’s another thing he wants to talk to him about.

“So, listen,” he starts, making Jungkook look up at him from the straw he was picking at between his fingers with his brows raised. “I don’t know what you two agreed on for now, how you’re gonna do this forbidden friendship thing of yours, but…” Yoongi breathes in and back out. Maybe he should have planned this better beforehand, like he did with Taehyung. “Um, this is kind of weird timing with it being my last year of college and all, but I’m going to give up my apartment. It’s always been a shitty little place and I can allow myself something nicer now I think, but, um…” He trails off again, lowering his gaze when Jungkook just looks at him in confusion. Dammit. Talking to people seemed easier when he was laughing at Taehyung for being too chicken to do it. “I wouldn’t mind sharing the new apartment with someone. I mean, I would mind sharing my place with some random asshole I don’t know, but, I guess what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you. Just in case you wanna, you know, move out from home. I know you don’t like it there much, and I think you could afford it if we shared a place, and, you know, we work pretty well together, so like, this is just an offer. Sleep on it, or something, maybe.”

At this point, Yoongi is shrugging so much he’s pretty sure his shoulders are blurring with the movement, but he stills when he dares to look up. Jungkook is beaming at him. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is open in a big, happy smile, and Yoongi, Min Yoongi, wants to jump over the counter and hug him, but he doesn’t.

“That would be so cool!”, Jungkook says, voice breaking a little from excitement, and Yoongi smiles right back at him. “Of course I want to!”

“Sleep on it,” Yoongi repeats. “Please. Make sure you can afford it, both financially and, you know, emotionally. I wouldn’t want to make anything worse.”

Jungkook’s happy smile turns into a lenient little grin. “Taehyung scared you, huh? They’re not that bad, my parents. They’ll probably be really happy if I tell them I’m finally leaving.”

Yoongi doesn’t tell him how that does make them sound kind of bad in his book. He just tells him to sleep on it again, and if he still wants to move in with him tomorrow, they can test their chemistry by starting apartment hunting, and Jungkook tells him that he will, and that’s that.


That’s how Min Yoongi ends up looking for affordable apartments to move into with first-year music composition student Jeon Jungkook.

The first time that Taehyung comes back into the coffee shop with his friends after he and Jungkook talked, he tries again. He gets his hot chocolate first, and he holds the cup in one hand while he leans on the counter with both forearms and watches Yoongi prepare Jimin’s and Hoseok’s orders. His hair is a beautiful mess, and there’s that smudged eyeliner around the corners of his eyes again, and his lips curl prettily around his straw as he sucks on it slowly (Who even drinks hot chocolate with a straw, Yoongi thinks. That’s dangerous), eyes always on Yoongi, the hint of a smirk making his entire face look mischievous and like the wet dream of a thousand teenage girls.

“So,” he says finally, accent coming through here and there, but Yoongi doesn’t let it show how nice it is to hear that, “thought you might be a little more interested in my offer, now that we’ve actually had a few decent talks. You’re into that, right? Getting to know people first and all that stuff?”

Yoongi makes sure that his sigh is audible as he shakes his head and keeps his gaze on Hoseok’s coffee. “First of all, I’m not actually into talking to people a lot,” he says flatly. Then he does look up, giving Taehyung a smile that’s dripping with fake pity. “Secondly, I still don’t do casual fucks. Sorry, Toe.”

By now at least, Taehyung doesn’t seem that affected by the nickname anymore (which maybe makes it a little more disturbing to call him a toe, but, whatever). He sighs dramatically himself now, and shakes his head in grief. “Yeah, the cute ones never do.”

And that, too, is that.


For some reason Yoongi wasn’t expecting it at all, but Taehyung actually backs off after that last rejection. He waits for his drinks like a normal person now, without sticking his ass out and pulling his lips into pretty pouts and making a show out of his long fingers playing with straws or Won bills or whatever else they found. He stops holding exaggerated eye contact, he stops sticking his tongue out on every occasion, and he only uses Yoongi’s number to ask when exactly they need him to be where exactly so he can help him and Jungkook move.

And for some reason, this displeases Yoongi.

It would probably be easier to take if he didn’t see Taehyung all the time. He still comes by the coffee shop of course, but that’s not all. He helps Jungkook carry his stuff into their apartment, he even helps Yoongi with his own boxes and furniture, and Yoongi is starting to believe that he really did not think this one through. Thanks to his help, Taehyung and Jungkook are getting close to each other again very, very quickly, and whenever Yoongi gets home from college, sometimes even when he gets home from work at ass o’clock in the morning, Taehyung is there. He sits on the floor playing video games with Jungkook, he sprawls over the living room couch to tell Jungkook about his day (Yoongi makes a point to never listen to him), he sits on the kitchen counter dangling his legs while eating everything they had in their fridge, he occupies the bathroom. And he’s polite enough, he always says hello and goodbye to Yoongi when they happen to be in the same room while he comes and goes, but that’s it.

He doesn’t flirt with Yoongi anymore, which shows decency, makes him seem more mature than Yoongi had deemed possible, and that should be good. But it just pisses Yoongi off instead. He catches himself wondering if Taehyung has found someone else to flirt with now, someone else who gets all that attention and those sultry looks, someone who probably falters quicker.

(Not like he’s trying to imply that he would have faltered at some point. No.)

With the way Taehyung looks and behaves, he can probably have all the casual sex he wants whenever he’s not hanging around at their place or spending Wednesdays with his grandma, and that’s good for him, you know, whatever. Yoongi just hopes he uses a condom, and stuff. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to care.

He does kind of care.

So maybe he feels like he missed out on an opportunity. So what. Maybe it’s different now that he’s seen more of what Kim Taehyung is actually like, more than leather jackets and a rogue tongue, more than a big mouth on long legs. Sometimes Jungkook looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and sometimes, when nobody notices, Yoongi does, too.

Taehyung makes Jungkook laugh, and Jungkook makes Taehyung laugh, and when Taehyung laughs his entire face laughs with him, and sometimes even his body, going through vibrating and shaking while that deep hellish voice dies in his throat and his face is just a pair of scrunched up eyes and a wide open mouth. And Taehyung’s lips do a rectangle when he grins, Yoongi has learned that that’s common knowledge among his friends, but they do a heart when he laughs. He has a mole on his nose and one on his lower lip, and he has big hands and long, slender fingers that fiddle with each other a lot, and his shoulders-to-hips ratio is something that’s almost enough to make Yoongi turn religious, because only God could come up with something this perfect.

So maybe it’s different now that Taehyung is Jungkook’s best friend Taetae, and not just some random asshole at the coffee shop. So what.

It’s not like that would magically make Yoongi consider casual hookups. He’s not sure Taehyung would even still count as a casual hookup because they see each other so much, and wouldn’t that make things more complicated? Probably, and obviously neither of them wants complicated. Also, with the way Jungkook looks at Taehyung, Yoongi thinks sleeping with him might make things a completely different kind of complicated, one he’d want even less.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi says one day, right after Taehyung left and closed the door behind him. He’s on the couch in the living room, Jungkook still on the floor with Nintendo controllers on both of his sides, looking up at him now. “You’ve been staring at him.”

Jungkook blinks. “I have?”

“Uh huh. Are you…?” Yoongi wasn’t actually planning on leaving the question open like that, he was going to ask as directly as he could, but he doesn’t get to finish. Jungkook is already laughing and shaking his head.

“Nah,” he says heartily. “God, no. I’m just glad to have him back as a friend, that’s all. I couldn’t…” Jungkook snorts softly. “Actually, I had a little crush on him back when we first met. But Tae is horrible with relationships. The better I got to know him, the smaller that crush got, just from seeing him interact with other people who were interested in him. I love him as a friend, but being into him would be so bad, I think my brain just automatically chose to save me from that hell.”

“Oh,” Yoongi says.

For the first time in his life, he wishes his brain could work like Jungkook’s.

He doesn’t want to date Taehyung though, he tells himself. He’s more into dating than into casual sex, yes, but dating Taehyung sounds more impossible each day. So, he doesn’t want that. Yoongi has always been a realistic person, he doesn’t want things that are impossible. That would be stupid.

When stuff is impossible, he just wants the next best thing instead.

He wants to fuck Kim Taehyung.

Jungkook has eliminated his worry about hurting his feelings with that, so there’s nothing really keeping him from it anymore. Except for his own pride maybe, but the more he watches Taehyung in those godawful tight pants, watches his fingers move on the controller with such grace even though he’s losing, the more Yoongi thinks he can probably toss that pride out the window for once. He might just have to.

Granted, that is way easier said than done. Yoongi tries to say it to his face when he comes into the shop for coffee at one a.m. one night, but he just kind of, doesn’t. He’s not even stammering or anything, he just doesn’t say anything about it even though he’d been psyching himself up for it all day. Pride is a wicked thing.

He tries again a few days later, after Taehyung came over to their place in a shirt with a hole in just the right place to let his collarbone flash through all the damn time. At this point, Yoongi has just about had it with Taehyung’s body being unavailable to him and Taehyung just smiling politely and waving goodbye at him, so he waits until the door closes and pulls his phone out of his pocket as he throws himself on his bed. He doesn’t have Taehyung’s number for nothing.

[20:29:48] you: i have three rules. 1) you pick the hotel AND you pay. 2) you dont tell jungkook until i tell you its okay. 3) no smug faces.

That should be clear enough, right? Yoongi kind of hopes so, hopes Taehyung isn’t as dense as he tends to look sometimes, but he really didn’t feel like including the words sex or fucking anywhere in there. He waits a couple minutes, but the message still isn’t marked as read, so he forces himself to do other stuff. He changes from jeans into sweats, he makes his bed, he rearranges some stuff on his desk, he’s cool, he could do this all day. His pulse has definitely always been like this.

Ten minutes later, he’s starting to feel a little annoyed with Taehyung. Yoongi drops back on his bed and picks up his phone with a frown, but the second he opens his messaging program, Taehyung reads his text. From there, it only takes a few heartbeats until the answer flies in.

[20:31:21] taehyung: :)

[20:32:03] you: great. broke number 3.

[20:32:20] taehyung: sorry lmfao you couldnt expect me to abide by that

[20:32:54] taehyung: 2 is kind of a dick move imo but sure ill do it

[20:33:00] taehyung: ill do 1 too

[20:33:25] taehyung: when are you free

Yoongi closes his eyes. He can’t fucking believe he’s doing this. But he can’t back out anymore, his pride is already wounded enough and he can’t be making it any worse now, it might kill him.

[20:34:48] taehyung: holy shit i missed a great chance for innuendo there i meant ill do rule number 1 and right after that ill do YOU

He really, really can’t fucking believe he’s doing this.

[20:35:31] you: just to be clear, i honestly still hate you so much. for saying that, and in general.

[20:36:01] you: im free this tuesday.



By Tuesday, Yoongi is completely certain that this is going to be the most embarrassing night of his life. He’s not inexperienced - he’s a college student, he’s had enough sex in the past few years. But for Yoongi, sex has always been something intimate, something he does with people he likes very much, people he has spent time with and trusts, people that are more than eye candy to him. He’s never had sex with someone like Taehyung before, never. Someone who views sex as a pastime, something to do with people he’s never going to see again, quick and dirty and emotionless, probably. Yoongi has never condemned people who thought like that, knows enough of them from his circle of friends and classmates, he never minded it, it just wasn’t his particular cup of tea. He’d always considered sex to be something special, and he knows that Taehyung doesn’t.

And yet, here he is. In some poorly lit hotel hallway, hands buried in his coat pockets almost up to his elbows, looking around with a frown while Taehyung fumbles the card key into the scanner. It looks a lot cleaner that he’d feared, but then again, Yoongi hasn’t been to a hotel in a long time. He has no idea how much money Taehyung has, doesn’t expect it to be very much and this is nothing fancy, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about catching STDs just by touching the door.

The room looks okay too; it’s not much, but Yoongi supposes they don’t technically need anything other than a bed. (He’s well aware that sex on other surfaces is an option, but if he’s going to do this with Kim Fucking Taehyung, he better at least be goddamn comfortable.) He shuffles in after Taehyung, listens to the door fall shut behind them as his gaze flickers from the double bed on the wall to the window where blinds are already pulled, city lights blinking through the dark dimly behind them. Before he can think about what kind of hotel pulls the blinds shut for their guests, he can hear Taehyung release something from his throat that’s in some weird limbo between a chuckle and a giggle.

Yoongi squints at him from the corner of his eye. Taehyung has already kicked off his shoes, but he’s watching him with his teeth caught on his lower lip now. “What.”

“You look so tense,” Taehyung says with entirely too much amusement dripping from his voice, inching closer. “Relax. I’ll be gentle.”

He can’t finish the sentence without giggling some more, and Yoongi turns towards him completely now, to stare him down. (Taehyung seems unfazed.) “It’s not my first time, asshole. You mess this up, I’m leaving.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Taehyung laughs, raising his hands apologetically. One of them travels up even more though so he can pluck the beanie off Yoongi’s head and drop it to the floor. “Calm down. Take that coat off, loosen up. Pretty sure I want this more than you, hm? I’ll try not to fuck this up now that I’ve got you here.”

His fingers are on the zipper of Yoongi’s coat now, and he’s looking at him like he’s waiting, so Yoongi just jerks his chin a little as a nod. Silently, he watches Taehyung while he unzips Yoongi’s coat, slowly like he’s trying to do everything right now. Yoongi still can’t quite figure him out.

Once his coat is opened, Yoongi peels himself out of it, kicks off his sneakers while he’s at it, all while subtly watching Taehyung shrug off his leather jacket too. Yoongi can see his chest moving underneath the shirt he still wears while he drops the jacket to the floor, and he wants to touch it, and he wants Taehyung to stop acting like Yoongi is some sort of shy virgin, so he keeps his gaze fixed on Taehyung’s torso as he slips his hands beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“That’s better,” Taehyung says quietly, and it’s stupid, but Yoongi lets it slide, because Taehyung’s skin is warm and soft and maybe he hasn’t felt anything like this under his fingers for a while. Taehyung’s hands are on him too now, both lying still on Yoongi’s hips while Taehyung leans down and noses past his jaw, breath tickling the side of his neck. “You tell me if I do something weird you’re not into, alright?”

As Taehyung starts walking him backwards toward the bed slowly, Yoongi squints at him again, even though he can only see a blur of lilac hair. “What weird shit are you into?”

Taehyung pulls back a little and shoots him a grin. It’s the stupid, boxy one, not one of the horrifyingly sexy ones, and Yoongi’s legs hit the bed behind him. “I’m a hardcore furry and I want you to spank me with a ping-pong paddle.”

God, he hates him. Yoongi glares. “I will leave.”

He wants to think that he means it, but he also doesn’t fight back when Taehyung gives him a little push and he drops onto the bed, Taehyung climbing over him with another chuckle-giggle. “Give me one minute and leaving will be the last thing you’ll wanna do.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Overconfident. He should have figured.

Then again, roughly a minute later Yoongi’s pants and shirt are on the floor and he’s still on the bed, eyes closed, lips parted in a silent moan as Taehyung holds his legs apart and mouths over the growing bulge in his boxers, and he really doesn’t quite feel like leaving anymore. He’s not even sure what it is that makes this so hot, it should be gross, he thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, where he still realizes that the fabric of his underwear is damp with spit and condensed breath and sticking to his skin. And it is gross in a way, a filthy way though, filth that somehow manages to just make this better. By now Taehyung must be having a mouthful of lint with the way he’s even dragging his goddamn tongue over Yoongi’s length standing out against fabric, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

No, Taehyung is relentless. Hands always either smoothing over Yoongi’s hips or drawing soft red lines from his fingernails into the insides of his thigh, Taehyung is now sucking on the head of Yoongi’s cock like this, and Yoongi almost can’t believe how distinctly he still feels that, even with his boxer shorts still on. Once he’s gotten past the grossness, this pretty much feels like his dick is somewhere tight, warm, and wet, and with his chest heaving and his hands clawing at Taehyung’s hair, Yoongi has to admit that he’s definitely felt worse before.

He’s contemplating telling Taehyung to just pull his boxers off and give him the real deal already when Taehyung tops off his torture with a low hum that seems to resonate through Yoongi’s entire pelvis and makes him shiver harshly, and pulls back finally. With the exact stupid sardonic grin Yoongi had in mind when he invented rule number three, Taehyung crawls over him, not losing any time before he dips his head down and sinks his goddamn teeth into Yoongi’s throat.

With both of his hands still fisted in Taehyung’s hair, Yoongi tenses for a second. He exhales sharply as he feels Taehyung sucking skin into his mouth, pulls at his hair and then changes his mind and just slaps the back of Taehyung’s head lightly instead. “No marks,” he rasps out, ignoring the embarrassed warmth in his chest with the knowledge that his voice is already absolutely fucked.

“Too late,” Taehyung says from somewhere under his chin and it takes all of Yoongi’s restraint to not kick him. “Wow, you bruise really easily. Think Kookie’s gonna ask you about this?”

It’s so evident in his tone how much he enjoys teasing the living hell out of Yoongi, and Yoongi contemplates kicking him in the nuts for real this time, but there’s also the throbbing urgency in his boxers he doesn’t particularly feel like handling himself right now. So, he just closes his eyes instead, exhales loudly, and prepares to answer something absolutely devastating, when Taehyung rolls his hips down.

Taehyung is still in his jeans, rough fabric stretched taut over his own bulge, and the mere feeling of that against the softness of Yoongi’s boxers and his sensitive hard-on beneath that, is enough to make him feel like he’s leaving this version of reality for a moment. He moans, breath stuttering in his throat, hips bucking up helplessly to get that friction again, before part of him sort of remembers that he was going to say something. “Please don’t talk about Jungkook right now,” he manages, which is not at all what he was planning to say two seconds ago, but he can’t quite bring himself to care anymore.

Taehyung giggles (it’s definitely a giggle this time) and moves his mouth lower on his chest. He has the decency to not say anything to that, and also to not leave any new marks, but what’s much more important to Yoongi right now is that he has the decency to roll his hips down once more. Bliss spreads through Yoongi’s entire being, and - what the hell, since when does he just play along with being at somebody’s mercy like this? He squints down at the wild mess of Taehyung’s hair against his chest after Taehyung has pulled his hips away from Yoongi’s again because Yoongi was trying to rut against him. Oh, he is not about to let this little shithead do whatever he wants to him.

Yoongi’s hands slip down to Taehyung’s shoulders, and he locks his legs around his waist, so he can turn both of them around in one swift motion. Taehyung doesn’t fight back, just lands on the pillows with a soft “Oh,” and a vaguely perplexed expression that has Yoongi biting back a smug grin himself now. “Oh, okay,” he says quietly, while Yoongi pulls at the hem of Taehyung’s shirt - Why’s the asshole still fully dressed anyway? - and already trails one hand down to palm at his erection through his pants while Taehyung pulls his shirt off. Yoongi leans down almost immediately to suck an unnecessarily large part of skin just beneath his collarbone into his mouth (he’ll show him what a real mark looks like), and can feel Taehyung suck in a breath.

“I did tell you you could top, too,” Taehyung says, voice unstable, his hips stuttering against Yoongi’s firm hand.

“I don’t care who tops,” Yoongi answers flatly, nipping at the dark red bruise he just formed on his chest - it’s a lie, he doesn’t actually want to top, but he’s not about to tell Taehyung that. “I just don’t want to be the only one suffering here.”

“Oh, you call this suffering,” Taehyung murmurs with a very, very breathy laugh, and Yoongi rolls his eyes while unbuckling Taehyung’s belt. “Interesting - wait.”

Before Yoongi can pull his pants down, Taehyung reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out two small packages, one a condom and one something Yoongi recognizes as one of those travel-sized lube sachets his roommate always carried around while he still lived in the college dorms. Yoongi guesses that makes sense, since Taehyung wouldn’t have the room to carry actual lube bottles around with him in pants that are so tight Yoongi actually suppresses a curse when he shoves them past Taehyung’s ass. He doesn’t comment on it, just makes sure to pull his briefs down with them and then also gets rid of his own.

For a second, Yoongi pauses. He’s pushed the clothes off the bed with his foot, takes a moment to blatantly eye up Taehyung’s cock lying half hard against his stomach, then looks up at Taehyung with an expression he hopes is predatory enough to rival the satisfied look in Taehyung’s eyes. He grabs the lube packet and tosses it in Taehyung’s direction, watching it land on his chest. “Prep me,” he commands, before swinging one leg over Taehyung’s body so he can kneel over his chest, ass basically in his face, his own head turned towards Taehyung’s crotch.

He’s pretty damn thankful to himself that he made it so Taehyung can’t see his face right now. Yoongi has sixty-nined once before in his life and it was nothing like this, and this isn’t embarrassing per se, it’s just weird and a little horrifying to be doing this with someone Yoongi barely knows, barely even trusts. He knows just enough about Taehyung to think that he’d let him go with no stir if Yoongi were to change his mind, or maybe he even just knows enough to think that he could probably take Taehyung in a fight. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe he doesn’t want to care right now when he can feel Taehyung’s warm breath against the back of his thighs.

He notices though, that for a short few moments, Taehyung doesn’t move an inch, so Yoongi hopes that means he’s surprised and more likely to shut the fuck up now. He hears a package being ripped open behind him, and only then does Yoongi move, too, wrapping one hand around Taehyung’s cock and giving it a few tentative pumps. Taehyung shudders almost immediately, his hips twitching, but Yoongi gently presses both of his palms down against them and he stills.

Something slick presses carefully against his hole and Yoongi closes his eyes for a second, counts to three, forces himself to relax. He circles his tongue around the tip of Taehyung’s cock and that helps - he doesn’t really want to think about why that is, but it helps, it distracts him from the fact that he’s in a cheap hotel bed with someone he doesn’t even particularly like. So when a long finger finally enters him completely, Taehyung’s cock is heavy in his mouth, and Yoongi does what he does best: he puts his tongue to good use.

Behind him, a whispered curse hits his ass cheek in a strangled breath when Yoongi draws small circles on Taehyung’s dick with the tip of his tongue - his past boyfriends have all been very lucky men, and Yoongi hopes Taehyung can appreciate being the only person to ever get this treatment without actually dating Min Yoongi. But again, that’s a thought he’s not going to dwell on, he’s busy enough bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks, tongue never staying still, listening to Taehyung’s strained gasps while he moves his index a little jerkily inside Yoongi.

When he’s sure that he’s made his point, Yoongi slows down a little. He doesn’t want Taehyung spilling into his mouth or anything, he’s just letting him know he’s not completely in charge here. Plus, it’s starting to get hard to concentrate on not choking when Taehyung has two fingers up his ass and occasionally angles them just right to make Yoongi moan around him, which just makes Taehyung moan right back. Yoongi settles for sucking on his tip gently and pumping his hand over the rest, occasionally dipping his tongue into the slit when he wants to feel Taehyung quiver underneath him.

Eventually though Taehyung adds a third finger, and Yoongi needs to pull back to breathe. He keeps moving his hand lazily while he leans to the side, resting his forehead on Taehyung’s thigh and panting quietly against the soft, bronzed skin there. Taehyung isn’t bad with his fingers, he has to admit that much, crooking them just right to make Yoongi forget about the stretch and stifle a groan against his leg instead. His thrusts are slow but hard, and Yoongi is starting to feel a little dizzy now, ignoring the nasty squelch of lube around Taehyung’s fingers in favor of listening to both of them moan between ragged breaths, and this is enough.

Once Yoongi starts moving around Taehyung gets the hint and pulls his hand back. Yoongi turns around on his knees, not wasting too much time thinking about positions as he straddles Taehyung’s thighs the right way now, and gestures into Taehyung’s direction with one hand. “Condom.”

Taehyung lies there, face and chest still flushed from the blowjob, one hand glistening with lube, and looks at him with a grin that, for a split second, looks a little too smitten. “Aren’t you just full of surprises,” he murmurs before tossing the condom at Yoongi.

“Shut up,” Yoongi says, nonchalant tone getting lost in the way his voice sounds like someone just had three fingers brushing against his prostate, and busies himself with rolling the condom onto Taehyung’s stiff cock.

“Shutting up wasn’t part of your rules, boss,” Taehyung shoots back cockily, though his tone, too, gets compromised when Yoongi lines him up and carefully starts sinking down on him.

“It is now,” Yoongi sighs quietly, eyes closed, breathing softly through the nose. He takes his time, to adjust and all, but mostly just to torture Taehyung. He’s well stretched and the drag is good, Taehyung’s girth just right to be satisfying but not too much, and Yoongi would actually kind of like to slam his hips down quicker now, but he’s not going to. Maybe he’s starting to enjoy this little battle of who keeps his composure longest. He only opens his eyes again when his hips meet Taehyung’s and he’s taken a deep breath, trusting his voice to sound at least somewhat close to normal now. “Rule number four: shut the fuck up.”

For a second there, he almost contemplates kissing Taehyung. To shut him up, obviously. It’s what people do in movies. But Taehyung hasn’t kissed him once so far, and Yoongi never felt the need either because this is different - he’s never had sex without kissing before, but he’s also never had sex like this before, so that works for him. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about it now, with Taehyung sprawled out under him, dyed hair falling into those exaggerated bedroom eyes, full lips parted, the entire guy looking positively fucked out already when they just finished foreplay. He doesn’t need to kiss him. Min Yoongi doesn’t kiss assholes.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything anyway, and Yoongi loses his train of thought when he smoothes his hands over Yoongi’s thighs, running them up to his hips and dipping his fingers into the pale skin there to grab him right before he carefully rolls his hips up. He doesn’t hold him in place yet, the whole movement is soft and gentle like he’s still giving Yoongi the chance to pull away if he’s not ready yet, but Yoongi doesn’t want to pull away. He wants Taehyung to do that again.

“Shit,” he breathes, barely audible, as he cants his head back and lifts his hips far enough to leave only the head of Taehyung’s cock in. He closes his eyes when he rolls them back down with twice the force Taehyung just had, and it makes both of them groan deep in their throats. Taehyung’s nails scratch over Yoongi’s hipbones as he repeats the motion once, twice, building up a steady rhythm that makes his ass slap against Taehyung’s hips loudly in the silence of their hotel room. He feels hot all over, some strands of his fringe are sticking to his forehead and there’s a thin layer of sweat right between his shoulder blades, it’s like the entire room just got infinitely hotter while he wasn’t paying attention. Yoongi can hear himself pant harshly somewhere between Taehyung’s baritone moans as he fucks himself deep on his cock, hands blindly finding Taehyung’s chest to support himself at least a little.

When he feels Taehyung bend his knees behind him, Yoongi falls forward almost automatically, teeth sinking into Taehyung’s collarbone as he braces his forearms against the mattress next to his head for what he knows is about to come. Taehyung stops scratching his fingernails over Yoongi’s hips (he doesn’t even want to know what they look like by now) and grips him in earnest, hot breath rushing right past Yoongi’s ear for a second before he snaps his hips up and makes Yoongi see stars.

It’s the angle, now that he’s bent over Taehyung, and the force, now that Taehyung is freely thrusting up into him, that has white flash behind his eyes. He’s slamming against his prostate dead-on, almost every single time, and Yoongi grips the sheets, mouth hanging open gasping for breath in the air between Taehyung and the bed which is too warm, too thick, but still just right somehow.

Taehyung’s voice is caught somewhere between grunt and moan every time he slams his hips upward, his hands bruising on Yoongi, pushing him down against him for every thrust, the slap almost painful but not quite, just on the edge of pleasant and it’s driving Yoongi insane. Some part of him wants to pull away and slow this down a little, but the bigger part wants it to keep going, wants more of whatever this is, whatever demon possessed him to let resident pisstrumpet Kim Taehyung fuck him like that (maybe it’s fucktrumpet, maybe Yoongi is mixing up his swearwords, which is sort of an apocalyptic sign in itself). He doesn’t want it to end, but at the same time he can feel release nearing already, a hot pull coiling deep in his stomach, and he wants that too, he wants everything.

Without thinking much about it (really, thinking isn’t exactly his forte right now), he wrenches one of his hands free from the bedsheet and wedges it between himself and Taehyung somehow. His cock his hard and heavy between them, occasionally rubbing against Taehyung’s stomach or both of their stomachs and it’s making Yoongi want to cry with how much he wants, needs release, so he wraps his hand around it tightly, and that’s as far as he gets. Taehyung’s hand is gone from his hip before Yoongi even realizes, and he’s swatting Yoongi’s hand away and wrapping his own around it, but Yoongi doesn’t get to feel relieved. Taehyung’s grip is tight, too tight and he knows it, not giving him what he wants while he’s still pistoning right into his prostate with no mercy.

Yoongi is half sure he’s never groaned this loudly during sex. “Fuck you,” he grits out, slurred against Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung laughs, but it only comes out as a single, strangled Ha and Yoongi hopes he fucking chokes on it.

“C’mon, you can take three more minutes,” Taehyung breathes, his words blurring around the edges because his own mouth isn’t really working the way it’s supposed to anymore either, and Yoongi just groans again. He feels like he might explode if he has to wait three more seconds, but then again maybe he’s perfectly fine with this feeling of raw, messy ecstasy staying with him for just a bit longer. He feels filthy from head to toe, everything is hot, everything is sweaty, his mouth tastes like dick and his throat hurts, his hips and thighs are burning softly from where salty sweat is running into the faint scratches Taehyung left there, and in some way, it’s still so fucking good, like it’s everything he needed to be right now, dirty and out of breath and teetering on the edge of bliss.

Nope, he needs to fucking come and he needs it now. He’s already contemplating biting Taehyung’s shoulder until he bleeds because surely that would make his grip loosen a little, and he does kind of deserve it, when Taehyung’s hips start stuttering and his voice breaks like glass on one of his moans. There’s the first syllable of a cussword on Taehyung’s lips but it’s gone the next second, and then his hand moves on Yoongi’s dick and Yoongi feels like he’s going to pass out. He can feel himself performing some sort of full-body twitch, which has never fucking happened to him before, and Taehyung snaps himself up into him as deep as he gets and flicks his thumb over the tip of Yoongi’s cock and Yoongi takes a deep breath and lets it out in a string of curses, bucking mindlessly into Taehyung’s hand. He comes with his eyes screwed shut and his hands clinging to the bedsheet, hips in constant motion, riding it out until he can’t feel his body anymore.

It’s the best kind of numbness, Yoongi thinks vaguely, his head swimming. One of Taehyung’s hands is still firmly pressed against his hip and he’s flush against his ass, breath coming out in hoarse stutters. Yoongi listens to Taehyung’s climax more than he feels it, listens to the long exhale at the end, and the even longer inhale that comes after that, when his fingers relax against Yoongi’s skin and his pelvis sinks back onto the mattress.

For a few, quiet moments, they’re both completely still, catching their breath, coming down from the high. Yoongi has his eyes closed and tries to ignore the gentle ache in his legs from being in this position for way too long, and then Taehyung chuckles very, very quietly and Yoongi immediately glares at the blurry mess he can see from where his head is resting right next to Taehyung’s.

“If you say anything,” he rasps, “anything stupid at all, I will rip your throat out with my bare teeth.”

“Mm, that’s hot,” Taehyung says dryly, which probably qualifies as something stupid. Yoongi contemplates biting his throat, but he’s not feeling playful right now. He’s busy trying to ignore the way Taehyung’s fingertips ghost over his back. “Exactly what I wanna hear right after sex. You gonna get off of me sometime this year or did I fuck you limp?”

“You couldn’t fuck my grandma limp if you tried,” Yoongi mutters, wincing a little when he lifts himself off of Taehyung’s softened cock and rolls to the side heavily. “And she’s dead.”

“Ew.” He’s on his back now, and Taehyung is next to him staring at him with an expression that would be almost comical if Yoongi had a sense of humor right now. “Oh, that’s gross. You’re gross. I didn’t expect you to be gross.”

“Yeah, well,” Yoongi runs both of his hands down his face in favor of checking to see if that’s really cum drying on his stomach or if he really has scratches on his thighs, “I turned out to be a lot of things you didn’t expect me to be, didn’t I?”

Taehyung laughs a little to that and hums in affirmation. From the corner of his eyes, Yoongi can see him reach to the side to grab the scratchy-looking tissues from the nightstand and start cleaning up the mess Yoongi left on him. Once he’s discarded them along with his condom in the nearby trash bin with a perfect throw, he shifts a little to look at the alarm clock next to the tissue box. “The room’s paid for until ten in the morning, by the way,” he says. “In case you wanna stay here.”

Yoongi raises his brows. “What, you wanna cuddle?” he asks flatly, propping himself up on aching elbows to squint at the clock too. It’s just past one.

“Nah, I’m leaving as soon as I find the will to get up. ’s Wednesday now. Gotta prepare breakfast for my granny soon.” He points an accusatory finger in Yoongi’s direction. “And don’t you dare think about fucking her.”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to give him a lazily disgusted glare now, but it’s gone quickly when Taehyung forces himself up into a sitting position and starts fishing for his pants with a foot. It was weird enough to hear it from Hoseok, but it’s even weirder now that Taehyung himself has said it. He really doesn’t look like someone who makes breakfast for grandmas.

“So that’s not code for anything?” Yoongi asks, sounding less serious than he feels. “You really do spend every Wednesday with your grandmother?”

“Yup.” Taehyung is buckling his belt already and looking for his shirt, only shooting Yoongi a glance when he’s found it, and snorting at his frown. “Hey, I’m sorry I have a personality behind the whole problem child trope you’re not willing to look past,” he says while pulling his shirt over his head with entirely too much unnecessary arm flailing. Then he offers a grin that’s just bitter enough to make Yoongi feel bad. “Disappointing, I know.”

Yoongi opens his mouth and closes it again. He can still feel the last aftershocks of his orgasm buzz faintly through his body, he’s not nearly coherent enough to have a good answer to that. He’s kind of amazed that Taehyung was coherent enough to throw something like that at him, and that he can pull on his boots and jacket now without falling over. Not like that makes him feel any better about what just went down.

Just as Yoongi realizes he should maybe try to do some damage control and grit out something resembling an apology or whatever (and tell Taehyung that he definitely misunderstood Yoongi here), Taehyung glances around the room one last time and already puts his hand on the door handle.

“See you around, Yoongi,” he says.

And he leaves Yoongi lying there, naked and freezing a bit, staring after him with a sinking feeling of regret that definitely does not mix well with the fading waves of climax.

He decides that he does not want to stay here until ten. He’s going to get up and get dressed and go home to shower and get some sleep, and stop thinking about Taehyung. It doesn’t matter what they did or said to each other, that’s the whole point, right? In the end, he doesn’t have to care about Taehyung’s weird feelings or Taehyung’s grandma or how quickly he was able to just get up and leave after sleeping with someone. He doesn’t have to care about Taehyung. That’s what Taehyung wants, that’s why he keeps things casual. So that’s what Yoongi’s going to do.

It shouldn’t be hard, he tells himself when he’s on the subway home and can still feel Taehyung’s fingers pressing into his hips and his nails scratching over his legs. Yoongi pulls the collar of his coat up for the tenth time to make sure nobody can see the hickey on his neck. No, the souvenirs don’t faze him.

He doesn’t care about Kim Taehyung.

He’s going to keep it simple.