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Like most things with Taehyung do, it started as a joke. Seokjin honestly doesn’t remember when — months ago? Sometime in some bar, when Seokjin was ordering another vodka soda and Taehyung was ordering another cranberry juice. Jimin was in the bathroom, and Seokjin didn’t feel generous enough to buy him another drink, but Taehyung batted his eyes and Seokjin felt weak.
“I’ll get his, too,” Seokjin told the bartender, and Taehyung smiled at him all big and annoyingly cute in that way he has. Like Seokjin buying his fucking juice was some sort of grand gesture. Seokjin felt an itch under his skin but he wasn’t sure why.
“My hero,” Taehyung cooed at him, and Seokjin snorted, downing the last of his current drink.
“Anything for you, darling,” Seokjin told him. Taehyung giggled and crowded into his space, wrapping an arm around his middle and pressing a little kiss to Seokjin’s jaw like he’s done a hundred times before, because Taehyung is constantly overflowing with affection and doesn’t seem to care about how friends usually share it.
“God, you two are gross,” Jimin complained, suddenly back with them at the bar. Seokjin wasn’t sure how he missed his approach, but Taehyung is still pressed against him, so maybe that was it.
“Jimin-ah, we are very much in love, and I would appreciate your understanding,” Seokjin said in a serious voice, because he was kind of drunk and thought it was funny.
Taehyung did too, judging from the way he was laughing against Seokjin’s neck. It tickled.
“Literally never,” Jimin told him, making a face and ordering his own drink.
“Jiminnie, it really hurts when you don’t support my life choices,” Taehyung said through laughter. He’d only had a few drinks before he switched to juice, but that was all Taehyung needed to be tipsy for the rest of the night. Seokjin and Jimin always whined at him about it when they looked at their purchase history the next morning.
“It really hurts when you manage to con Seokjin into buying you things when he never buys me anything, how about that?” Jimin returned with a laugh.
“Because you’re a brat,” Seokjin told him easily, taking a sip of the drink the bartender set down for him a moment ago.
“It really hurts my feelings that you obviously think Taehyung is cuter than me, hyung,” Jimin said with a little faux-petty sniff, and Seokjin barked out a laugh.
“Of course he is. He doesn’t try so hard,” Seokjin said, and only regretted it a little when Jimin hit him hard on the arm, even while Taehyung was laughing.
It was a joke, of course. They’re both fine to look at, he supposes, but he doesn’t really have feelings one way or another. Of course Jimin is attractive — more than one of his boyfriends have had very obvious crushes on him, to Seokjin’s annoyance. Personally, Seokjin always wondered why Taehyung never got the same reaction. Jimin could turn on the smolder in his eyes like a switch, and play up his cute features when he needed to, but Taehyung just looks the way he does. All the time. So sincerely.
Anyway, it was a joke, them being in love. Seokjin liking Taehyung best. Referenced whenever Seokjin gave Taehyung a bite of his food, or bought his coffee, or gave him a piggyback ride when Taehyung was too drunk to walk. Normal friend things, Seokjin thought, but he always laughed along when someone mentioned it. Maybe he does have a soft spot for Taehyung. Doesn’t everyone? Everyone in their friend group bought him things, did him little favors they didn’t have to. Jimin and Taehyung are practically married, for god’s sake, even though Jimin has been dating Hoseok for months now. Still, the joke persisted.
And honestly, Seokjin should have known things would escalate. One of Seokjin’s favorite things about Taehyung is that he’ll always play along with whatever dumb shit Seokjin says, so he always does it back to return the favor; Seokjin loves an enabler.
So when Taehyung calls him on fucking Valentine’s Day and says, “Hyung, Bottoms Up is no cover tonight if you come as a couple,” Seokjin thinks, Yeah, okay, this makes sense.
“Why aren’t you going with Jimin?” Seokjin asks, but he knows the answer, really.
“He told me he’s busy being in an actual couple so I should call my fake boyfriend,” Taehyung says with a little laugh.
“Wow, harsh,” Seokjin comments. He thinks about it for a moment, considering the offer over. Does he really want to go out tonight? (Yes, he kind of does.) Does he want to go out with Taehyung? (Yes, Taehyung is fun to go out with.) Does he really want to actively pretend to be Taehyung’s boyfriend? For an actual purpose besides fucking with their friends? (Sure, why not?) “Yeah, I’ll go.”
Really and truly, he’s too old for this kind of shit. He realizes this as they stand in line for the club, surrounded by a bunch of twinks.
“You’re still a twink, hyung,” Taehyung assures him.
Seokjin sighs. “I guess, Taehyung-ah.”
That’s not the point, though. The point is that being surrounded by a bunch of college kids kissing in line makes this plan feel way dumber than it did earlier. He’s an adult pretending to date his friend so they can avoid a ten thousand won cover charge.
He voices this to Taehyung, who just looks at him and says, “That’s a whole extra drink you can buy, though.”
Seokjin pauses. “You have a point.”
So fine. Here Seokjin is, standing in front of a bouncer with Taehyung hanging onto his side, nuzzling into Seokjin’s neck. He’s expecting some sort of challenge to be laid down in front of them, like this man will start quizzing them on their anniversary date or something, like they’ll have to kiss in front of him, like they’ll have to offer proof.
But of course, it’s just some man doing a job he doesn’t care too much about, so he says, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” stamps their hands, and sends them on their way.
Anticlimactic, Seokjin thinks.
“Huh,” he mutters.
“I feel like that should have been more difficult,” Taehyung says with a frown.
“Yeah.”
There’s a strange little off-kilter moment between them, and Seokjin tries not to think about what Taehyung was expecting there. Nothing good, he assumes, so he makes a beeline for the bar instead of unpacking that. The music’s loud, he put on tight pants for this, and he’s going to get drunk and have fun or die trying.
There’s some pink cocktail on special, and Seokjin buys two of them, setting the extra one next to him for Taehyung, who giggles and thanks him cutely. He looks nice tonight, in a pair of pants that fit him and a silky-looking shirt tucked in neatly. A few years ago Taehyung stopped dressing like Namjoon’s art school reject little brother and started dressing like...well, like he had money. Which Seokjin wasn’t sure was really true — he had a steady job and everything, but Seokjin thought the whole thing seemed suspicious. The opulence really was working for him, though, appearance-wise. The irony of Taehyung dropping money on clothes but feeling very committed to saving the cover charge struck him as funny, but very in-character for Taehyung.
“Well, I don’t think either of us will meet anyone tonight,” Seokjin says with a snort after he downs his drink easily, gesturing to the couples around them.
Taehyung shrugs. “I didn’t want to go out to meet someone. I just wanted to have fun with you.”
Seokjin thinks it’s absurd that Taehyung is so earnest all the time — he gets anxiety just thinking about it. Still, the sentiment is so nice, Seokjin can’t help but smile a little. “Cute.”
Taehyung makes a self-deprecating kind of face, like he knows he’s embarrassing, and Seokjin snorts out a laugh at it.
“I need another drink before I’ll want to dance,” Seokjin says, shaking his head, and orders two rounds of shots for them, not seeing why they should waste time.
Taehyung whines, but he takes his shots when they come, coughing after he swallows them.
“You’re such a baby,” Seokjin tells him gently with a smirk.
“I am a baby,” Taehyung says with a pout. Pretty, he thinks idly, because it is. Of course Taehyung is pretty. He has eyes, and likes men, and it’s a fact of the world.
“Sorry, baby,” Seokjin says, reaching out to tap Taehyung’s nose. Taehyung just keeps pouting, and Seokjin laughs lightly.
The shots hit him quickly, his stomach warm, and Seokjin feels the urge to pull Taehyung toward the dance floor. The song just changed from a boring house remix of some pop song to something more danceable, and he wants to dance. He thanks the shots, because as usual, he owes it all to the shots.
He gets held up from dancing, though, because Taehyung is pulling out his phone and taking a video of himself holding up a V with his fingers. Seokjin leans in and kisses Taehyung’s cheek, doesn’t really consider why or why he shouldn’t, because stuff like that is slow and boring. Once, Yoongi told him that he has the impulse control of a very stupid dog, and even though he acted offended, Yoongi wasn’t technically wrong. Taehyung just giggles again before he stops the video, sending it off to their friends with the caption “happy valentines day !!!”
“Come on, let’s dance,” he tells Taehyung, grabbing his hand to lead him away from the crowded bar. Taehyung cheers behind him, and Seokjin laughs again, finding it so easy with three drinks in his stomach already.
They start out easy. Dancing the way they usually do, loose and half-trying. Seokjin has never had the greatest rhythm but he kind of knows how to move his body to not make a fool of himself. Taehyung has had it down for a while, how to move his hips the right way that he goes from cute to...something else. They’re not with Jimin, which means they don’t need to feel embarrassed about how much better Jimin is at all things showmanship than anyone else, possibly on the earth. They’re just having fun. It’s easy.
He doesn’t know when things shift. Somewhere in the middle of the next song, Taehyung wiggles toward him, smiling as he moves forward with his hips leading. Seokjin smiles back and returns the gesture, appreciating how good Taehyung can look when he really tries. He has good hips, Seokjin thinks, and good legs. He’s broad. Solid. Nice thighs. He’s wearing the fuck out of his pants, Seokjin notices. It’s in the middle of all this noticing that he realizes they got close all of a sudden, their hips inches apart. There’s a sharpness in the way Taehyung is snapping his hips that wasn’t there before, and Seokjin tries not to think about it too hard, about how Taehyung looks honest-to-god hot.
Not that Taehyung’s not usually hot. Of course he is. And that’s fine. But it’s different right now.
He pulls out his phone to distract himself, opening the camera to take another video of the two of them. Taehyung realizes and changes his positioning, moving so that he’s dancing with his back to Seokjin’s chest, their faces squished together. He smiles big at the camera and Seokjin smiles too, because Taehyung’s just like that, and he stops the video after he catches a few seconds of them dancing. He sends it to their friends and pockets his phone again, expecting Taehyung to move now that the camera’s off.
He stays put, though. He stays pressed against Seokjin, hips still moving, and Seokjin guesses the natural thing to do is put his hand on Taehyung’s hip. So he does. Taehyung leans his head back against Seokjin’s shoulder, a happy grin on his face, and Seokjin kisses his cheek again. Because it’s there, you know. It’s there and it’s Taehyung and he always deserves a kiss.
Taehyung turns around then, so quickly and gracefully that Seokjin misses how he actually manages it. But they’re back to looking at each other, hips still moving, one of Taehyung’s legs between his own in a way that isn’t exactly sexual but could be if he moved forward about three inches. Seokjin reaches out and puts his hand on the back of Taehyung’s neck, and he hears Yoongi’s voice in his head. Poor impulse control.
Taehyung smiles again but it’s more of a smirk as he leans forward to press their foreheads together, reaching his own hand out to grab Seokjin’s shoulder. Their eyes are locked, and Seokjin thinks it shouldn’t feel this intense — he looks at Taehyung all the time, after all. It does, though.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Seokjin asks him, voice loud to carry over the music. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why he’s done anything he’s done for the past twenty minutes. Part of him is just honestly curious, because god, Taehyung should really have a boyfriend. He’s so attractive and kind and good and attractive again. Double attractive. When did he get so good at dancing?
Taehyung leans in to Seokjin’s ear to say, “You’re my boyfriend, right, hyung?”
The correct answer would be the word “no.” Or a laugh, maybe. Or backing up and going to get another drink. Or maybe just stepping outside and bumming a cigarette from a nineteen-year-old just to clear his head.
But, you know, poor impulse control. So instead he tilts his lips against Taehyung’s ear and replies, “I am tonight.”
Taehyung doesn’t laugh at that. Neither does Seokjin. Their bodies are pressed close together, their foreheads touching again. Taehyung’s pretty this close up — pretty eyes, a pretty nose, pretty freckles, pretty lips. He’s pretty far away, too. He’s always pretty.
Seokjin isn’t sure whose turn it is to escalate again, to turn the volume up, to lead them further to the edge of the cliff. Taehyung’s, maybe, since Seokjin just said that stupid shit he said. Whatever. He wants to know what happens next.
Seokjin finds out very quickly, within a matter of seconds, that what happens next is Taehyung leaning in again and asking, “Then you’ll kiss me, right?”
It’s a question and a challenge and a line in the sand, and Taehyung’s eyes are heavy with it. Seokjin thinks briefly about the right answer. Say no. Laugh. Walk away. Get a drink. Bum a cigarette. Go home. Jerk off. Don’t think about it.
Boring, he decides, and closes the gap between their lips without warning. It’s a good kiss because Seokjin is determined to make it a good kiss, determined to rise to the challenge in Taehyung’s voice. He puts his hands on Taehyung’s hips and pulls him in closer still, til their bodies are flush together and Taehyung’s leg between Seokjin’s is distinctly sexual.
It’s like a switch in Seokjin’s brain turns on, because suddenly he’s overwhelmed with quite a lot of impulses. The impulse to back Taehyung into a wall and kiss him senseless. The impulse to pull on Taehyung’s hair til he tilts his neck back and Seokjin can mark it up. The impulse to find an empty bathroom stall and do something truly inadvisable. He doesn’t follow any of them yet, instead pulling away from Taehyung just enough to see what Taehyung’s next move is, exactly.
“Oh,” Taehyung mutters with a smirk. “Cool.”
“Cool? That’s all I get?” Seokjin asks, backing up to make an incredulous face at Taehyung.
“What, you want me to tell you how hot you are? How good you are?” Taehyung asks, still smirking. His tone is stupidly attractive, and Seokjin is angry about it.
“Of course I do, I’m both,” Seokjin insists.
“Take me home, then. Give me something to talk about.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes. “Fine. I will.”
Taehyung’s smirk is lazy and a little condescending, and Seokjin wants to wipe it off his face. “Cool,” he replies, and Seokjin pulls him aggressively by the wrist to the door.
The cab ride is silent. This would ordinarily be odd — Seokjin and Taehyung are a talkative group. But Seokjin, in an effort to make Taehyung just fucking knock it off with his whole deal, took his seat with a hand on Taehyung’s thigh. It’s easy to run his fingers up the inseam of Taehyung’s pants, light and slow and deliberate, and it’s satisfying to hear the minute hitch in Taehyung’s breath as he goes higher. Seokjin almost feels like he’s winning, until Taehyung pulls his phone out and leans his head against Seokjin’s, giving a cute smile, looking completely unaffected. Seokjin poses for the picture, giving a half-smile, and as Taehyung moves his thumb to take the picture Seokjin presses his palm down deliberately on the bulge in Taehyung’s jeans.
The picture looks fine, captured in the millisecond before it happened, but as soon as Taehyung presses the shutter button he makes an embarrassing moaning noise, loud enough that the cab driver looks at him briefly in the rearview mirror.
Taehyung manages to pass it off as a weird cough, but Seokjin just smirks to himself as he looks out the window, hand resting lightly on Taehyung’s thigh again.
Seokjin opens the door as soon as they pull up to his apartment, turning to Taehyung and saying, “You can get it.”
He waits at the door of the building for Taehyung to join him, smirking as he leans against the wall, and Taehyung rolls his eyes.
“You’re so annoying,” Taehyung mutters, waiting for Seokjin to punch in his entrance code.
“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend,” Seokjin scolds with a smirk. Taehyung doesn’t respond, but pushes open the door quickly once it unlocks.
“C’mon, you told me you’d give me something to talk about,” Taehyung reminds him, and Seokjin follows behind him, annoyed at how good Taehyung is at getting the upper hand. Who gave him the right? Who taught him how to flirt?
(On the elevator ride up, Seokjin realizes in abject horror that he did. Oh, god.)
It’s a short ride, but Seokjin spends it trying not to look at Taehyung hungrily, trying to get himself under control, because really, this is ridiculous. Ridiculous, Seokjin he thinks at himself as he thinks about that urge at the club to push Taehyung into a wall and kiss him until his legs got weak.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me what we’re doing?” Taehyung asks him as the elevator dings, dropping them off at the sixth floor. He doesn’t look at Seokjin, and Seokjin thinks maybe there’s a reason for that. Maybe this is an answer Taehyung’s nervous for. “Aren’t we gonna have some heart to heart?”
“No,” Seokjin tells him easily. “I don’t feel like it. Maybe next week.”
“Can we fuck a few times before that?” Taehyung asks, leaning against the wall next to Seokjin’s door, with that smirk back on his face.
“Depends how good you are,” Seokjin tells him easily, raising an eyebrow and trying to press his key into the lock as nonchalantly as possible. He wants the upper hand back.
“Oh,” Taehyung murmurs, stepping into Seokjin’s space and distracting him from unlocking the door. Suddenly his face is so close, and the expression on it is fucking infuriating. “I’m very good,” he finishes in almost a whisper, leaning in to kiss Seokjin in a way that makes Seokjin want it to linger, makes him lean forward when Taehyung pulls away. Goddamn it.
“Fuck you,” Seokjin mutters, finally unlocking his door and storming angrily to his bedroom. “Close the door, come on, let’s go.”
For once, Taehyung follows directions, and Seokjin is satisfied enough with the sound of the door closing with a loud bang that he doesn’t bother looking behind him. He strips his shirt off, no time for patience, and he’s surprised when hands rest on his waist.
“Hi,” Taehyung says, smirk replaced by a real Taehyung smile. Terribly endearing. Horrible timing, since Seokjin wants to press him into a mattress and have sex good enough that he feels like he’s won this encounter.
“How do you just walk around like that?” Seokjin asks, frustrated, before he moves to unbutton Taehyung’s shirt, too.
Taehyung’s giggling against his mouth, and as Seokjin pulls his shirt over his head, he gets a thought.
“Are you drunk?” Seokjin asks with Taehyung’s shirt in his hand.
“Kind of,” Taehyung answers with a shrug. “Not really.”
“You took two shots,” Seokjin says with narrowed eyes.
“I emptied one into a glass near me,” Taehyung says with an apologetic kind of look.
“Well, Jesus, next time tell me to just take it myself,” Seokjin huffs. “Fine. Okay. Good.”
“What, you’re up for bad sober decisions but not bad drunk decisions?” Taehyung asks.
Seokjin looks at him. “You think this is a bad decision?”
“Not really. I think most people would think it is,” Taehyung explains.
“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees quietly. “Probably, huh.”
“So are you going to fuck me or what?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head back, and Seokjin rolls his eyes.
“Obviously, god,” he mutters before he presses back in to Taehyung, moving to unbutton his pants while he’s at it.
A weird thing about the nature of their friendship is that the two of them have never had any boundaries with each other; they’re both oversharers by nature, and neither of them ever tell the other to stop. It’s particularly weird in this moment, when Seokjin suddenly remembers a dozen small details of Taehyung’s sexual proclivities and desires, and doesn’t know exactly what to do with that.
“I already know what you like in bed,” Seokjin mutters, pulling away from Taehyung’s mouth. “That’s so weird.”
“Yeah, it is,” Taehyung agrees with a little laugh. “So the sex should be good, right?”
“I didn’t say I’d fucking deliver you your ideal sexual experience,” Seokjin says with a snort. “I’m not eating you out the first time we have sex.”
“Coward,” Taehyung accuses.
“Selfish,” Seokjin counters. “Anyway, of course the sex will be good, I’m very good at sex.”
“Stop bragging and take your pants off.”
Seokjin should have foreseen that everything Taehyung does is done with enthusiasm. He has never quite experienced someone launch into a blowjob with the same gusto as Taehyung currently. He isn’t complaining, though. Like, the opposite of complaining. Taehyung’s between his legs sucking his dick like the world is literally ending, and honestly, Seokjin could be convinced that it is.
“Fuck,” he mutters distantly, glancing down for a moment and catching Taehyung’s eye. Taehyung’s gaze is heavy, and Seokjin groans. “You look fucking good like that.”
Like that, meaning with the tip of Seokjin’s cock in his mouth, lips red, spread out with his chin in his hand, eyes dark.
Taehyung takes his mouth off of Seokjin to mutter, “Thank you,” voice a little raspy (the price of enthusiasm, Seokjin guesses), eyes half-lidded. Fuck.
“Wanna fuck you,” Seokjin says, because god, it’s the truth.
“It can wait,” Taehyung says with a little smirk. “I’m having fun.”
He moves his lips back to Seokjin’s cock, taking him deeper, swallowing around him. Seokjin groans, a choked-off thing. “You’re a fucking demon,” he manages.
That makes Taehyung laugh, hard enough that he pulls off of Seokjin and rests his forehead on Seokjin’s thigh. “Shut up, god. You’re too loud.”
“If you keep at it like this, I’m going to come,” Seokjin tells him, closing his eyes when Taehyung’s hand starts moving on him.
“Maybe I want you to come,” Taehyung tells him.
Seokjin looks down at him. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”
“Maybe I want you to do both,” Taehyung says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Oh my god, you are vastly overestimating my capacity here. I’m too old to try to come twice in a row,” Seokjin tells him disdainfully. “Can you come twice that fast? Really?”
“I can do anything I set my mind to,” Taehyung tells him.
Seokjin blinks. “You’re so stupid. How many times have you come in a night? I’m really curious now.”
Taehyung hums like he’s thinking, leans in to lick at the stream of precome on Seokjin’s dick (rude.) “Four, I think.”
“Jesus,” Seokjin mutters.
“You wanna try to beat that?” Taehyung asks with a little wink.
Seokjin snorts. “Maybe the night I eat you out.”
Taehyung chuckles. “A lot of exciting plans being made tonight.”
“This conversation is making this literally the most boring sex ever. It’s like we’re at lunch,” Seokjin tells him.
“Well, you wouldn’t eat me out, so don’t complain about it being boring,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes.
“Will you get over it? You’re such a brat.”
“It’s 2018, hyung. Eating ass is all we have left, as a society.” Taehyung’s voice is serious, and Seokjin just looks at him for a minute before letting out a cackle.
“Shut the fuck up and get on your back,” Seokjin tells him. And this time, Taehyung doesn’t argue about it.
Taehyung’s loud, because of course he is. He’s loud from the first finger Seokjin gets in him, and he doesn’t get any quieter when they move on to two. He keeps gripping the bed sheets below him, head tipped back and body laid out so prettily, and Seokjin just has to think about how fucking nice Taehyung’s body is. His thin waist, his hips, his long legs. It’s just nice, just nice to look at, and Seokjin is a little consumed with it while his fingers work.
He’s about to reach up with his other hand and stroke Taehyung off a little, but a thought occurs to him. “Can you come without me touching you?”
“I have been known to,” Taehyung says, voice sounding weak.
“That’s hot,” Seokjin mutters thoughtfully.
“Why, because it’ll boost your ego?” Taehyung asks, trying to laugh afterward, but then his breath hitches and he stutters on it.
Seokjin smirks. “Yeah.”
Taehyung gives another breathy little laugh. “Do it, then.”
Seokjin has always been a little intrigued by how Taehyung seems to be kind of nasty. He’s harbored some harmless curiosity about the way Taehyung has casually recounted the weird shit he’s into. It’s not like he wants to tie Taehyung up, or...or choke him or something (both of which Seokjin had to pretend were not a little scandalizing for him, the times Taehyung breezily mentioned them in conversation previously), but. He’s curious.
He keeps moving his fingers, just slow enough to piss Taehyung off. Just short of anything Taehyung really wants, just out of reach enough to frustrate him.
“Hyung,” Taehyung gasps after a few more agonizing moments. “Hyung, I need you.”
That elicits a response from Seokjin he didn’t expect, some warm and gooey feeling that he quickly wants to cage back up, but it’s fine. Whatever. Totally normal.
“Tell hyung what you need,” Seokjin says, in an effort to avoid any sort of emotional reflection.
“Need you to fuck me,” Taehyung says in a rush of air, thrusting back against Seokjin’s fingers. “God, I need you to fuck me til I can’t speak anymore.”
“I can do that,” Seokjin tells him, running his fingers close to Taehyung’s dick just to tease him, just to watch his muscles jump and his breathing quicken. “Let me go find a condom.”
“I mean,” Taehyung starts. “You don’t need to. Right?”
“Wow, you’re gross, huh?” Seokjin asks him with a laugh. “I’m clean, if that’s what you’re asking. You don’t want a condom?”
“I don’t get to do this a lot, is all. You know, because of...safety. But I trust you,” Taehyung tells him. Kind of a serious conversation to have when Seokjin has his fingers in Taehyung’s ass, but whatever, Seokjin supposes. None of this is normal.
“Honestly, that sentence was a huge turn-off for me,” Seokjin says.
“I don’t have time for your commitment issues right now,” Taehyung groans. “Just fuck me.” He reaches down and pulls Seokjin’s hand away, picking himself up on his elbows and looking at Seokjin expectantly.
“Yeah, alright,” Seokjin tells him, moving up the bed until his arms are caging Taehyung’s head.
“You look good,” Taehyung tells him quietly with a little smile, and Seokjin can’t help but return it.
“You too,” he mutters, pressing a hand to the inside of Taehyung’s thigh to press them apart. Their gaze locked on each other is starting to feel a little too intimate, so Seokjin leans in and kisses Taehyung hard, the way he deserves to be kissed. Taehyung makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and Seokjin positions himself so he can thrust into Taehyung properly. The noise Taehyung makes then is significantly louder, and hot in a way that makes Seokjin feel kind of animalistic. He wants to make Taehyung make noise, lose himself.
So he thrusts in again, not giving Taehyung much time to adjust. He knows Taehyung likes things a little rougher, anyway, and Taehyung’s ensuing moan supports this theory.
Seokjin doesn’t remember the last time he felt so in tune with someone during sex, so committed to knowing how they felt and wanting to make them feel good. Which maybe makes him kind of an asshole, but usually it’s mutual with whoever he’s with. Taehyung is different though, because Taehyung is Taehyung. So eager, so easy to read, so fucking attractive in a way that Seokjin wishes he could stop thinking about. In a way that he can tell already will linger on his mind for ages. So it’s easy to lose himself in it, to focus on the little differences in Taehyung’s breathing and the sounds he makes to know what’s good. It’s easy to put Taehyung first, to try to find the right position for him, until the noise coming out of his mouth is a sort of constant stuttering groan.
“Harder,” Taehyung mumbles, eyes screwed closed, fingertips gripping into Seokjin’s back. “Please. Harder.”
Seokjin nods, wants to call Taehyung baby again, like earlier in the club, wants to forget that he wants that. He leans in and kisses him again, more of an uncoordinated panting going on than a real kiss, but it’s hot. Taehyung makes a little whimpering sound, and god, what pheromone is he putting out that Seokjin wants to do anything for him to keep him making that sound?
Seokjin keeps going, because he’s determined to make Taehyung come first, wants to keep hearing that whimpering noise, wants to push Taehyung over the edge he seems to be dangling on. Seokjin still hasn’t touched him, and god, that really is hot, getting Taehyung this desperate without putting a hand on his dick.
“What do you need?” Seokjin asks him, kissing the skin on his neck between words.
“More, just more,” Taehyung pants, so Seokjin gives him more. He thrusts in hard, ignoring the burn in his arms from holding himself up, ignoring everything besides Taehyung.
When Taehyung comes, he yells out, hands gripping hard on Seokjin’s shoulders, and Seokjin kind of wants to burn it into his brain forever. The way Taehyung arches, anchoring himself on Seokjin, the furrow of his brows. Ridiculous, he thinks distantly.
He goes to pull out, in the interest of not killing Taehyung from oversensitivity while he keeps riding through his orgasm, but he shakes his head. “No, keep going.”
Seokjin doesn’t bother questioning it, just keeps thrusting in until he’s close. It doesn’t take long — maybe another minute, maybe two. He’s been right there alongside Taehyung, it was just less obvious with his mind so focused on someone else.
Taehyung, pliant and sleepy-looking, keeps leaning up to kiss Seokjin softly, to kiss down the side of his neck, and it’s all more sweet and tender than Seokjin really wants. It feels nice, though, those whispers of a touch, so he doesn’t think too hard about it. He’s quickly losing the ability to think too hard about anything, the pressure of his orgasm turning his brain into a useless weight in his head, so he stops trying entirely.
It’s a good fucking orgasm. Like brain goes dumb, vision goes white good. Like collapse on top of Taehyung with an embarrassing noise good.
Taehyung just hums, running a hand through Seokjin’s hair, and the familiarity of it is making Seokjin’s head spin. It’s the same noise, the same sensation, as when Seokjin gets too drunk and Taehyung comforts him. The same sweet feeling that bubbles in his stomach, but this time it’s tinged with something else, something decidedly less platonic. Seokjin shuts that line of thinking down, too tired for it tonight or this week or maybe even this month.
“Fuck,” he manages finally, breathing hard against Taehyung’s shoulder.
Taehyung nods. “Yeah.”
They lie there, sticky and gross and overwhelmed.
“It was really good. You’re really good,” Taehyung tells him, voice sounding sleepy.
“You too,” Seokjin agrees.
“Really good,” Taehyung repeats.
“Really, really good.”
It takes them ten minutes to extricate themselves from each other, for Seokjin to pull out and roll over and think about dealing with Taehyung’s mess. He decides Taehyung can take care of himself, and doesn’t at all land on this decision because it gives him a gross little thrill to know that he’s the one who made Taehyung messy in the first place.
They don’t say much, but Seokjin lets himself get tactile and affectionate, lets Taehyung hold his hand and play with his fingers, lets himself cuddle against Taehyung because goddamn it, he wants to, and he doesn’t want to question why.
“Weird Valentine’s Day,” Taehyung mutters after a while, and Seokjin laughs against Taehyung’s chest.
“Yeah.”
More quiet; soft nighttime noises drift in from the draft in Seokjin’s hall window.
“Hey, hand me my phone,” Seokjin says to Taehyung.
Taehyung stretches to reach it, passing it over to Seokjin, and watching as Seokjin opens the camera app again.
Taehyung snorts. “Really?”
“I’m just sending it to Yoongi. I like stressing him out,” Seokjin says, framing the picture so it gets the two of them lying in bed, still undressed.
“Send it to Jimin, too. He’ll freak out,” Taehyung says with a little laugh.
“Nice,” Seokjin comments. He takes the picture without much thought, but when he really looks at it before sending it, Seokjin thinks about the fact that it looks...domestic. Intimate. Romantic, even, maybe. Three adjectives that freak Seokjin out, just a little.
“You don’t have to send it,” Taehyung reminds him quietly, apparently noticing his hesitation. “Not everything needs to be for a joke.”
Seokjin looks at him, trying to piece together enough of his brain cells to think about that one. About the heavy way Taehyung says it, and the way he looks almost vulnerable lying there.
“Right. Yeah,” Seokjin agrees, turning his screen off before he can pick who he’s sending it to. “Okay.”
He puts his phone down, face down on the bedside table, and settles back in against Taehyung. Because it feels nice. Because he likes the sound of Taehyung’s heartbeat beneath his face. Because maybe Taehyung’s onto something with that one.
“Goodnight, hyung,” Taehyung tells him after a while, voice hushed.
“Goodnight, Taehyungie,” Seokjin replies quietly.
Taehyung is still holding his hand, and Seokjin’s palm is sweaty but he doesn’t let go. And maybe he doesn’t want to think about that right now, but it means something, maybe. Possibly. He’s not sure, and he’s not ready to think too hard about it. But maybe he will be, sometime. And that’s a strange thought to fall asleep to, isn’t it?