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(I Probably Still Adore You) With Your Hands Around My Neck

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So Taehyung is avoiding Yoongi.

Normally that wouldn't be a problem, normally Yoongi would be glad to have some much needed peace and quiet, a break from one of the loudest members, but the date of their comeback is approaching fast. It's not like the fans would notice straight away, after all Yoongi made sure early on to gain the title of the least touchy-feely, but it can only get him so far. That, plus Seokjin noticed.

“Tae is avoiding you.”

Yoongi sighs deeply, pushing the headphones off. He spins in his chair and is greeted by the sight of Seokjin standing in the doorway of the studio, his arms crossed over his chest, an expression that screams trouble on his face.

“What did you do to him?” he asks, looking at Yoongi as if he suspected Yoongi had murdered Taehyung's entire family and then some babies, for good measure.

“Why do you assume--”

“Oh please,” Jin cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “The kid is heart eyes emoji with you, he looks up to you so much it's kinda ridiculous. He’d never leave you alone if you didn't tell him something.”

Taehyung and Yoongi's relationship was a little strange. They seemed like two opposites that should crash and burn at some point, but somehow that point never came. Sure, they argued sometimes, it would be difficult not to argue while spending almost every waking hour together, but they also developed a weird bond, a bond that often was overlooked by the rest of the world. Deep down Yoongi liked that, liked having some sort of an unspoken secret between them.

One of them would slip into the Daegu accent whenever the other one seemed to be homesick, and the comforting familiarity of the sounds was a nice reminder they're in this together. Taehyung continued doing that even after getting scolded by his acting coach, who seemed to make it his life mission to rob Taehyung of any accent, going as far as to ban him from doing Satoori videos with Jimin. But the Daegu thing seemed to be where Taehyung drew the line, and Yoongi was really grateful for that. He tried to show it in the only way he knew; by doing small things, small gestures like praising Taehyung on his rap skills, even if Taehyung and rap went as well as toothpaste and orange juice.

And Yoongi wasn't stupid. Of course he had noticed that Taehyung was avoiding him, but he attributed it to Hwarang barely being wrapped up before the comeback, the stress and the general exhaustion that by now was a constant struggle for each and every one of them. And yeah, maybe he did notice that Taehyung seemed to be fine around the rest of the members, but what was he supposed to do? If Taehyung wanted space, Yoongi was going to give him space.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” he announces and shrugs when Seokjin huffs, rolling his eyes. “I really didn’t, hyung. He just… I don’t know, maybe he’s tired.”

“He doesn’t seem tired,” Seokjin says, and because the universe likes to play with Yoongi every chance it gets, there's a loud Taehyung-sounding screech coming from somewhere down the hall just as Jin finishes the last word.

“See?”

“Okay, well, I don't know what his deal is, I honestly haven't done anything to him,” Yoongi says.

“Here's a crazy idea - why don't you ask him what's wrong?”

Yoongi scowls, playing with the cord of his headphones.

“I’m not Jimin, I’m not good at talking.”

“Do I look like I care? You're the older one, make it right before Namjoon locks you two up in some cupboard and doesn't allow you out until you promise to be best buddies forever,” Jin says, turning around. Before he walks out, he throws “Oh, and dinner’s almost ready” over his shoulder and disappears down the hall. Leaving the door open, because, well, because apparently he can.

Yoongi sighs heavily, placing his headphones on his desk and shutting off the computer; it's not like he was going to get any more work done anyways.

It's one of those rare days when they have time off and normally they’d try to get outside, but everyone is way too exhausted to even think of setting foot out of the dorm. It's nice in its own weird way; they get to spend time together, away from the cameras, and let loose for a while.

Yoongi makes his way to the kitchen, where Jin is leaning over the stove, talking to Hoseok in a hushed voice. Namjoon is keeping his distance, busying himself with setting up the table and trying not to get in Jin's way, and the rest of the members are nowhere to be seen. Heard, though. That's a different story.

“Yoongi, would you please tell them to get their asses over here?” Jin asks, trying to outshout the noises and shrieks coming from the living room.

When Yoongi finally manages to herd Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook into the kitchen, dinner is already waiting for them. They take their seats, everyone digging into their food right away. Everyone except Taehyung. He’s just sitting across from Yoongi, silent amongst the chatter around him. His eyes are glued to Yoongi’s hands, and normally that wouldn’t bother him, but Taehyung’s been staring at his hands (and, well, at him, but always silently and quick to run away when his eyes met Yoongi’s) a lot the last couple of days.

It's not like Yoongi was watching him. Okay, fine, he was watching, but really, who could blame him? He likes pretty things and Taehyung is nice to look at, with his big eyes, cute nose and full lips. Yoongi isn't blind, he knows his friend is attractive, but recently this knowledge had been a little… annoying. Time after time Yoongi finds his thoughts wandering, slipping away from important things to the way Taehyung licks his lips (and God, is this kid unable to keep his damn tongue in his mouth even for a second?) or the way he rolls his hips while trying to outdance Hoseok during their fansigns.

And yeah, maybe this is something Yoongi should think about, figure out his feelings, but one, he hates feelings and two, Taehyung's his bandmate and Yoongi is not going to fuck everything up just because he can't keep it in his pants.

“Taehyung, aren't you hungry?” he finally asks, trying to sound casually uninterested.

“Huh?” Taehyung's head snaps up to him, a hint of a blush tainting his cheeks pink. He scrambles to get his chopsticks, suddenly extremely interested in the dish in front of him. “Oh yeah, I spaced out a bit.”

“You seem to be doing that a lot lately,” Namjoon says, tactful as ever.

Taehyung’s blush deepens and Jin elbows Namjoon under the table.

“I’m just tired,” Taehyung shrugs, still refusing to meet anyone’s eye. “That’s all.”

Yoongi sends Jin his best I told you so look, but Jin only scowls at him, clearly unimpressed, so Yoongi goes back to inhaling his food in silence. To Taehyung’s credit, he acts pretty normal during the rest of the meal and the evening in general, but everything changes the next day, when they all gather in the dance studio to practice their new choreo.

They had had a few practices already, but with each comeback the routines are getting more and more complicated, and sure, the final results are praised by their audiences, but it also means more hours spent in the dance studio. This time their choreographer is clearly out for blood, with more thrusting and crotch-grabbing (which, if anyone asks Yoongi, is completely unnecessary and probably hazardous to their health. But no one does, so he suffers in relative silence) than ever, and it would all be fine and dandy if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s newly discovered crush. Even in sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt Taehyung looks like sin on legs and, because God had apparently abandoned both Yoongi and their choreographer, one part of the routine calls for Yoongi to grab Taehyung’s throat. Well, not grab, but his fingers are supposed to be around Taehyung’s neck and their faces are super close and honestly, this is all terrible and Yoongi’s going to have an aneurysm onstage. But that has to wait, because there’s something wrong with Taehyung and Yoongi can’t make it worse by losing it in front of everyone.

They get into their positions, the song starts playing, and the first few tries go pretty much without a hitch. Once in awhile someone pushes someone else or trips over their own feet once or twice because the choreo is still pretty new, but it’s nothing compared to the disaster that is their fourth try.

Yoongi isn’t exactly strong. Sure, he could throw a punch if needed, after all Jin and Jeongguk managed to drag him to the gym a few times, but he’s not exactly known for his body strength. He’s perfectly aware of this and maybe that, plus focusing on not missing his cue, is why this time he wraps his fingers around Taehyung’s neck a little harder than he should have.  

Taehyung’s reaction is, simply put, startling. He jumps back, pushing Yoongi’s hand away, and stares at him with wide eyes for a few seconds, before mumbling something about bathroom and sprinting out of the studio as if chased by some invisible evil forces.

Yoongi freezes in his spot, blinking slowly. What the fuck. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the choreographer throwing his hands up in the air, and Jimin and Jin exchanging quick glances. Everyone turns around to look at Yoongi, who’s still standing with his hand raised, his heart for some reason thumping wildly in his chest.

“What happened?” Hoseok asks, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Uh,” Yoongi says eloquently. “I… I have no idea?”

“Okay, everyone take a five,” the choreographer says, pausing the music. “Yoongi, go check up on him, please.”

Yoongi obediently walks out of the studio, trying to act as if he doesn’t feel the judgemental stares on his back, and heads to the nearest bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Taehyung?” he asks softly, looking around.

The only answer he gets is a gasp coming from one of the closed stalls, so he walks up to it and knocks on the door.

“Are you there?”

“H-hyung, I just need a moment.”

“Is everything alright?” Yoongi asks, furrowing his eyebrows at the slight tremble in Taehyung’s voice.

The door to the stall open suddenly and Yoongi has to jump back to avoid getting hit. Taehyung quickly ducks his head and practically jogs to the sink, pretending to wash his hands. The fact that he’s clearly avoiding Yoongi, once again, pisses him off. It’s probably not the most appropriate reaction, but Yoongi’s tired, both from their practice and Taehyung acting weird around him. So he does what anyone would do, he steps up next to Taehyung and leans into his personal space, trying to get his attention. It works, but not in the way Yoongi was hoping it would; Taehyung immediately takes a step sideways, almost bumping into the wall.

“Okay, enough is enough,” Yoongi growls. “What is up with you?”

“Hyung, please, I--”

“No, Taehyung, I’m not going to fuck off until you tell me what's wrong,” Yoongi says, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder, which only makes Taehyung turn away from him. “Did I hurt you? Is that it?”

“No,” Taehyung mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.

“God, would you just--”

“I like it, okay?” Taehyung whines, spinning around to face him. “I like that part of the choreo a little, no, a lot more than I should. It's fucked up and I’m sorry, I had no idea I’d react like that. I tried to fight it, but it's just not working and I can't stop thinking about it, about your hands.”

Yoongi blinks once. Twice. Then he gets it.

“You mean…?” he gestures around his neck and even if Taehyung didn't nod, the way he avoided Yoongi's eyes and the redness of the tips of his ears told Yoongi everything he needed to know. Oh. Oh.

“Oh,” Yoongi says, feeling a little lightheaded. He always suspected Taehyung was a kinky one, his personality didn't exactly fit anything too vanilla, but this? This is unexpected, but then again, it does makes sense. Yoongi's touch was turning Taehyung on and Jesus Christ, that realization makes a beast inside Yoongi's chest roar with some strange sort of pride.

“You mean like this?”

The words slipped out of Yoongi's mouth before his brain had a chance to properly process them.

Taehyung's head snaps up and he watches him, his eyes huge and unblinking, his lips quivering like he was trying to find something to say. Yoongi makes his way over to him slowly, like in some sort of trance, transfixed by the terrified look in Taehyung's eyes. He doesn’t stop until he has Taehyung backed up against the wall, holding in his breath, as if he was expecting Yoongi to throw a punch at him.

Yoongi reaches out, his fingers slipping up Taehyung's chest to his neck. He wraps them around it, risks a quick glance up at Taehyung (deer in headlights) and squeezes.

The soft, tiny gasp that leaves Taehyung's lips makes something hot whirl in Yoongi's stomach. He can feel Taehyung's frantic heartbeat under his fingertips, can feel the way he swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing against Yoongi’s palm.

“Like this?” he asks again, unable to tear his eyes away from the contrast between his pale hand and the tanned, soft skin of Taehyung’s neck.

“Yes,” Taehyung whispers, and when his hot breath fans against Yoongi’s face he realizes just how close they are. He looks up at Taehyung just in time to see him close his eyes, his lips parting slightly.

“Show me.”

Taehyung's eyes flutter open and he looks at Yoongi with confusion.

“Show me how much you like it,” Yoongi says, hearing his blood pounding in his ears.

“W-what do you--” Taehyung stammers out, but Yoongi doesn't let him finish, pressing harder against his throat. Taehyung's hips jerk up and a soft oomph slips out of his lips, his eyes closing again, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

God damn it, he's pretty.

Yoongi relaxes his grip, backing away slowly. He takes a deep breath in, watching as Taehyung’s hand flies up to his throat and his fingers skim the skin there, like he was trying to feel some ghost trace of Yoongi’s hold.

Yoongi curses under his breath and that finally makes Taehyung look at him.

“Hyung?”

“Can you keep quiet?”

Taehyung frowns, but before he has a chance to answer, Yoongi grabs his wrist and pulls him into one of the stalls, slamming the door shut behind them. He spins them around, pushing Taehyung up against the door, his thigh between Taehyung’s legs. He’s feeling slightly dizzy, a hot flame licking up his spine, but he can’t fuck it up. He has to be sure.

“Is this fine?” he asks, pulling back a little to look into Taehyung’s face.

“Fine?” Taehyung lets out a choked up sound, something between a moan and a laugh. “God, yes hyung, it’s perfectly fine. Just please tell me I’m not reading this wrong and you’re actually planning on kissing me in the foreseeable fu--”

Yoongi doesn’t let him finish, slipping his hands around his neck, his fingers grabbing the hair at the back of his head, and he pulls him down, immediately pressing his lips against Taehyung’s.

Okay, so maybe being a dedicated to his art rapper-slash-idol meant that Yoongi had his hands full with music, with little time left for dating, but he did hook up with a few people. He had his fair share of kisses, but he can’t remember anything like this; a soft slide of lips against lips, almost shy, like neither of them really believed it was happening. It isn’t until Taehyung’s big palms find Yoongi’s hips that the strange spell is broken, and Yoongi parts his lips, allowing Taehyung’s tongue to slip into his mouth. It was making him feel light headed, because the things Taehyung was doing with his damn tongue were straight up sinful, and Yoongi has to grip tighter onto him to stop his legs from trembling. Taehyung’s teeth gently nip at Yoongi’s bottom lip and that makes Yoongi dangerously close to whining. It’s intoxicating, the way Taehyung is switching between being playful and delicate, so in retaliation Yoongi drags the tip of his tongue against Taehyung’s lips (the soft, plush lips that appeared in a few dreams Yoongi was too embarrassed to think about once he woke up).

When he pulls back he actually has to take a few seconds to get his breathing back to normal (and what the fuck, who taught Taehyung to kiss like that). Meanwhile, Taehyung is leaning back against the door, staring at him with a smirk on his lips, and, well, Yoongi can’t have that. He hikes his thigh up higher, brushing against the very obvious bulge in Taehyung’s sweatpants, causing him to hiss in a sharp intake of air.

“Hyung…”

“So, are you gonna show me or what?” Yoongi asks, his voice low. He raises his hand, sliding it over Taehyung’s chest all the way up to his throat. He leaves it there, loosely wrapped around the neck, a threat and a promise rolled into one gesture.

“Show you what?” Taehyung breathes out and it’s Yoongi’s turn to smirk.

“How much you like it. Go on,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against the column of Taehyung’s throat. “Touch yourself.”

“Oh, God,” Taehyung whimpers, and Yoongi tightens his grip, kissing the soft spot above his fingers and just below Taehyung’s jaw.

He can’t exactly see it, but he can feel Taehyung shift, sliding his hand into his sweatpants. What he can see is the tiny spasm that scrunches up Taehyung’s face when his palm wraps around his length. Yoongi tightens his grip even more, hearing the soft wheeze that Taehyung lets out, and counts to five in his head before easing off.

He keeps doing that, cutting off Taehyung's air supply and letting him take a breath before it gets uncomfortable, all the time hyper aware of Taehyung stroking himself, his hand bumping rhythmically into Yoongi's thigh. He bites into Taehyung's skin, sliding his lips from his neck to the collarbone exposed by the oversized t-shirt, before pulling back, because Jesus Christ, he needs to see.

Taehyung has his head pushed back against the door, a pretty shade of pink high on his cheeks, his lips still wet and slightly swollen from their kiss. He's looking at Yoongi with hooded eyes, and his expression is so full of lust that Yoongi, without thinking, sinks to his knees - because the famous line about sending people to Hong Kong wasn't, contrary to the popular belief, just about rapping and Taehyung is right in front of him, all flushed and pretty, and damn it, Yoongi's losing his mind here.

“Uh, hyung, are you--”

“Is this okay?” Yoongi cuts him off, his hands hovering above the waistband of Taehyung's pants.

“Yes, yes, oh my God, yes.”

And that's all the confirmation Yoongi needs. He pulls Taehyung's sweatpants down along with his boxers, Taehyung hissing in a sharp breath when his cock springs free. Yoongi, never looking away from Taehyung’s eyes, gives it a few slow pumps, lightly twisting his wrist, and wets his lips with his tongue. He can feel Taehyung’s thighs trembling already, can see the way his chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, and it’s such a beautiful sight that he wishes they had more time, but, alas.

He slowly sinks down, loosening up his jaw, taking the tip of Taehyung’s cock into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. One of Taehyung’s hands shoots up, his palm slapping over his mouth, while the other twists itself in Yoongi’s hair, neither pulling or pushing, just to have something to hold onto. Yoongi smirks, loving just how wrecked Taehyung looks already, and starts bobbing his head, his tongue lapping over Taehyung’s length.

“Yoongi-hyung? Taetae?”

Yoongi freezes at the familiar voice of his bandmate. He makes eye contact with Taehyung, whose dick is still in Yoongi's mouth while Namjoon is out there, on the other side of the door. Oh, this is great. Taehyung reaches out to push him off, but Yoongi slaps his hand away, shaking his head slightly. If there's one thing he loves, it's playing dirty.

He starts sucking slowly again, trying not to make any sounds, while Taehyung looks at him with pure terror in his eyes. Yoongi wiggles his eyebrows at him, so Taehyung takes a deep breath, steadying himself, and calls out:

“Uh, hi, hyung.”

“Oh, here you are. Are you okay?” Namjoon's voice is laced with concern and Yoongi silently prays he won't snort, or worse, start cackling.

Peachy,” Taehyung breathes out, scrambling to hold onto the door when Yoongi pushes his cock down his throat particularly deep.

“That's great, we were worried, you running out like that…”

“Um, yeah, sorry about that,” Taehyung says, trying to sound as normal as possible. “I felt a little dizzy. B-but I’m better now.”

“Did you see Yoongi-hyung? He went to look for you.”

Taehyung quickly exchanges glances with Yoongi again (don't laugh, just don't start laughing) before taking a deep breath and saying:

“Yeah, he went to get me some water. We’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay.” Namjoon’s shoes squeak against the tiles as he starts walking towards the door.

“A-ah, hyung,” Taehyung whines when Yoongi slides his hand up his thigh to run it over his balls. The footsteps stop.

“Yeah?”

“No, I… we’ll be right… right there,” Taehyung manages to choke out, his voice bordering on a moan, when Yoongi runs his tongue along the underside of his cock.

Namjoon mutters something under his breath and when the sound of his footsteps gets so distant Yoongi can’t hear them anymore, he pulls off, looking up at Taehyung with an evil grin.

“That was horrible,” Taehyung breathes out. “Just horrible."

“Yeah, well,” Yoongi shrugs, lazily running his fingers up and down the length of Taehyung’s erection. “You’ll live.”

He takes Taehyung’s cock between his lips again, determined to make him come, when another evil idea comes to his mind. He swallows around him, his tongue tracing little circles around the head, and he gradually speeds up, feeling Taehyung’s fingernails digging into his scalp. It’s not unpleasant, having his hair pulled like that, but it’s something he’s going to explore a different time, because Taehyung’s hips are jerking up and he’s biting down on his lip so hard the skin is almost turning white. Yoongi starts bobbing his head faster, hollowing in his cheeks as he sucks, and when he hears Taehyung’s whine that sounds very much like Yoongi’s name, he pulls his lips off and drags himself off the floor.

Taehyung is staring at him with something close to betrayal in his eyes, his face shiny from sweat and flushed, but Yoongi only pulls up his pants and winks at him.

“I think we’re out of time, but I’m going to stay up tonight,” he says conversationally and opens the stall door. “Work on something in the studio. The one hundred percent soundproof studio. Just so you know if you wake up in the middle of the night and feel a little… restless.”

The broken whimper that he hears walking out is a clear indication that he managed to get his point across and that he could expect a visitor tonight.

And hopefully for more nights to come.