Archive of Our Own ^beta

Namjoon didn’t hate any of his exes per say. He held a grudge against some of them for not getting him flowers on the days he needed them most, or for not understanding how important his job was to him and his stability in life. 

But he also thought he would never see any of them in his life again. 

Not only that, the one ex that he never fully got over, cried for months over, bled on the pieces of his broken heart he had left behind for months that his friends were scared for his mental health. 

Yeah, he had never gotten over Min Yoongi. And now he’s standing in front of him with long black hair with an undercut, the strands almost reaching his shoulders and covering his face. Last time he saw him he had shorter hair.

He had also been crying, but Namjoon pushes that detail aside. 

He’s fucked. 

Before he can run for the hills and come up with a lame excuse to text his friends after he escaped, Yoongi is turning to him with a glint in his eyes that looks more pleased than surprised. Namjoon’s heart does a little kick in his chest and he mentally curses his friends for not even giving him a warning.

“Hyung!” Jungkook calls, drunk out of his mind. Taehyung is behind him, trying to make sure his boyfriend doesn’t bump into any more party goers. “I have someone you have to meet!”

“We’ve met,” Yoongi answers as Namjoon swallows, trying not to focus on how deep his voice has gotten, or how his cat eyes got even more sharper than the last time he stared into them. 

Jungkook frowns as if a toy has been taken away from him. “How?”

Yoongi turns to him for the second time that night with a tilt of his head as if saying; your turn.

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon stutters, taking a long swig of his drink before putting the glass down. “He’s my ex I told you about.”

It’s comical how his eyes widen as he processes. He looks apologetic almost, unsure of what to say. Luckily Jimin is in tow with Hoseok and he looks at his two boyfriends confused once he senses the atmosphere. “What’s going on?”

“We’re talking about how we’re exes,” Yoongi says as he motions to Namjoon and he doesn’t even have it in him to be shocked at his bluntness. It’s good to see he hasn’t changed one bit. 

Jimin shrugs like he knows, he does, and turns to his boyfriends. “You never knew? He was torn up about him for months.”

“Hey,” Namjoon chimes in, flushing at how the shorter boy looks at him. “Don’t go into too much detail.”

Jimin’s eyes glisten under the neon lights. “Right.” Then he turns to Taehyung and Hoseok. “Well, I’m taking these three home as you can see they’re drunk off their ass,” Jungkook giggles as if on cue and Jimin sighs, “sorry to ruin the fun. But nice to see you again.”

Yoongi smiles. “It was nice seeing you again, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin is about to tug Jungkook away when he whines, “wait, hyung, we’re going to hang out again right?”

“Yes, you big baby.”

Jungkook smiles, runs to hug Namjoon before allowing Jimin to tug him away. Namjoon waves them off, cheeks burning. He feels a sense of relief until he remembers who he’s with. “Oh, um —“

“You’re so tense,” Yoongi observes. 

“It’s been years.” Three to be exact but Namjoon has not been counting. 

Yoongi gives him a once over and Namjoon hates the way it makes him shiver. “Three years does a lot to a person.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, although it comes out breathless. He’s been thrown in a loop today. First one of his beats was chosen for a track for one of his favorite artists, it’s the first time in awhile since someone reached out to buy a sample off of him. Hence the reason he and his friends came out to celebrate tonight. 

He wouldn’t have thought he would see the one that got away the same night. 

“Your hair is blonde now,” Yoongi says and Namjoon almost thinks he’s trying to stick around to keep talking to him. 

That’s wishful thinking. 

“Yours is longer.”

He shrugs. “Decided to change it up a bit.”

Namjoon looks down to his dark cargo pants and ripped fishnet shirt on top of his tank. He spots two new tattoos on his pale skin and he swallows. “I can tell.”

Yoongi looks up at him, unimpressed. “Namjoon, it’s just me.”

Namjoon sags. “I know.”

“You don’t need to be so tense.”

“How can I not?” He asks, wondering how Yoongi isn’t. They haven’t spoken in three years and yeah that may have possibly been partially his fault for becoming too caught up in work after the breakup but nonetheless. Three years. “It’s been a long time.”

I didn’t think I would have to face you again. 

Yoongi smiles playfully. “Who’s fault is that?”

Namjoon lowers his head, ashamed. The music turns quieter now, becoming later in the night where people are starting to flood out of the club. But he doesn’t remember time passing by as quickly as it is right now. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi sighs, walking towards him with a smile that never leaves his face. “Don’t be. I’m just…” he trails off, unsure. Namjoon even thinks he turns shy but he can’t assume. He lost that right. “I’m happy to see you.”

“Oh,” he breathes, surprised. Should he say the same thing back? Tell him how he's been dreaming of the day he would walk through the door and claim him back? Kiss him like he used to? Maybe even play those stupid love tracks they used to produce together?

Before he gets the chance to, someone calls Yoongi and he’s turning to them with a nod then with an apologetic look. “Gotta go.”

Namjoon thinks the dread shows on his face, scared to never see him again after this but then Yoongi says, “I’ll see you next time.”

“Next time?” Namjoon looks into the pair of cat eyes in front of him. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi never misses a beat, “it’ll be hard to miss me. Considering the songs you’re hearing in here are mine.”

He turns around before he even has a chance to respond, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. The only thing he retained from that whole interaction was that he had music playing in one of the most well known nightclubs in South Korea. 

Namjoon smiles to himself. So he made it. I’m proud of him.

They didn’t end on bad terms and sometimes Namjoon wishes they did so he could hate him, bash on him for life so he could eventually forget about him and move on. But it didn’t end like that. 

Instead it ended with Yoongi’s teary eyes scrunched up in a sad smile as he told Namjoon he understood why he was breaking his heart. It ended with a last salty kiss on his lips before he took his bag and left his small apartment. 

It ended with Namjoon loving Yoongi so much, he had to let him go. 

We grew apart. He told his colleagues when they asked. 

I didn’t want to hold him back. He told his handful of close friends and they had looked at him sadly, whispering that he could never, Yoongi loved him too much to go anywhere without him. 

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Namjoon wasn’t going anywhere when they were together. Yoongi was. He had so many dreams, so many hopes, so many people to prove wrong and Namjoon had…

Namjoon had nothing but him. 

Yoongi was the only constant in his life, the only thing that kept him going most days. But with very few people wanting to make music to cater to smaller niches, Namjoon had been out of work while Yoongi had been producing beats for big artists and establishments. 

So eventually, something had to give. Instead of letting Yoongi choose between him and his dreams, he chose for him. It was one of the hardest decisions he had made in his whole life, giving up a partner he saw a future with because he didn’t want him to hold him back. 

“That’s kind of romantic,” Jungkook had sniffled along with Namjoon and he had just chuckled wetly with a shrug. 

“I guess so.”

“You know he didn’t feel that way at all though, right?” Hoseok had chimed in, which was new for him. He never intruded on anyone’s business so the fact that he was now took Namjoon by surprise. 

“I didn’t want to assume that and have him resent me.”

“Namjoon,” Hoseok sighed. “Yoongi would have done anything for you. Ever think he wanted to chase his dreams with you?”

Namjoon had just shrugged because he did think of it, but how true could it actually be?

So yeah, they didn’t end on bad terms, but if Namjoon thinks hard enough with his eyes closed he can still hear Yoongi’s sniffles ring in his ears. How he brokenly said but I love you. How his tears tasted when he kissed him the last time. 

It never hurts any less.  

“You’re sad, admit it.”

Namjoon groans at Seokjin, waving a hand to dismiss him. 

“Admit it!”

“That I’m sad that I saw my ex and he looks even better after I broke up with him?” He spits but then relaxes. “Of course I am. It fucking kills.”

Seokjin softens, taking a seat next to him. In all honesty, Seokjin is one of the only people he would word vomit all his honest feelings to without worry. He of course trusts the others, but there’s a disconnect knowing they have something he no longer has.  “You don’t know that he’s doing better without you. That’s just your assumption.”

Namjoon pouts because yeah that’s true. “He’s producing beats for nightclubs now.”

“Yeah?”

Namjoon nods, smiling slightly when he remembers the conversations they had about making it. Together. 

“You look proud.”

“I am.” He agrees without a doubt, sipping on his black coffee. His hair is probably a mess on his head, he hasn't gotten much sleep since the night he saw Yoongi. 

Seokjin hesitates before he speaks and Namjoon preps himself for something he may not want to hear. “Have you ever thought of… I don’t know… you guys possibly dating again?”

“No.”

Seokjin’s eyebrows raise until they’re hiding underneath his purple bangs. 

“Not because I don’t want it!” Namjoon clarifies. “But because… I might not be what he wants anymore.”

“I don’t know, Joon. Hearing others talk about the other night makes me think differently.”

He sighs. “What did they say?”

“Nothing that needs to be repeated.” Seokjin answers cheekily. “But just know not everything is as it seems.”

“Hyung, if this is your way of telling me to go for it, please know you’re failing.”

Seokjin laughs, patting his back and they let the topic drop but as always, it weighs heavily on Namjoon’s mind. 

The next time he sees Yoongi it’s at Jimin’s birthday party. 

Taehyung and Jungkook went all out for their boyfriend, Namjoon observes as he walks around the place with his bag he packed for the weekend. The house is bustling with friends, people he has met in passing but never held a conversation with, strangers, and right in the middle where the DJ table is by a fountain is Yoongi standing with Jungkook, a drink in hand. He has headphones over one ear, probably trying to keep up with whatever Jungkook is rambling about. 

Gulping, he rushes to the sidelines before he’s seen and catches up with the man of the hour. Jimin’s eyes squint in tiny crescents when he sees him, standing up immediately to greet him with a hug. Namjoon instantly relaxes, Jimin always having that effect on him. 

“You made it.” He smiles when he pulls away. 

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday, Jiminie.” Namjoon scoffs, putting his bag down next to the couch. “But, wow, Taehyung and Jungkook really went all out.”

Jimin blushes. “I know.” He murmurs like it’s a secret he keeps close to his heart. Namjoon feels a pang of jealousy, swallowing it down so he doesn’t ruin the mood. “Yoongi-hyung  is here too, you know.”

Namjoon nods. “I saw him.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make things more awkward—“

“Jimin,” he cuts in with a gentle smile, “it’s okay. I’m fine.”

Jimin looks surprised. “Really?”

He wishes people would stop second guessing him, it makes him second guess himself. “Really. It’s good to see him.”

“I keep forgetting that before you guys dated you were really good friends too.”

Another distant memory. “Yeah.”

Jimin senses his sadness, leaning his head on his shoulder. “It’s fine. We’re going to enjoy this weekend together but before that!” Jimin hands him a very bright drink that Namjoon knows will get him fucked up. “Drink up. You’re going to need it once you find out you’re rooming with him.”

“I’m what?!”

It’s later into the night now and Namjoon has processed sharing a space with Yoongi again. He wonders if he knows, if he reacted the same way he did or just brushed it off. He thinks the latter, seeing how laid back he’s seem to become. 

He takes another long pull of the blunt he took from Jimin and Jungkook who were shot gunning on the couch. The house has mostly been cleared out now, only people they actually know and the rest of his friends loitering around together or drinking downstairs. 

He exhales, watching the smoke disappear into the night. He’s never been one for parties, only humoring his friends because they would do the same for him. That and he loves them of course. 

Namjoon takes the time to bask in the silence, reflecting on his life. Before this, it’s been two weeks since he first saw Yoongi again in the night club. If he’s pointedly made a point to not visit that club since then, no one has said anything about it. Seeing him had thrown him for a loop. He was becoming okay again. Not happy, but okay. He had accepted that’s all he’ll ever be since Yoongi. He wasn’t just mourning their relationship, but also their friendship. They had been friends for five years prior to dating, and ended up dating for two. For him to just show up in his life again with no warning is no one’s fault but his own. 

After all, he had been the one to stop texting after a couple of months. 

He didn’t do it on purpose either. Talking to someone you are still very much in love with after letting them go is not as easy as the movies make it seem. It’s like walking around with a dark cloud with your ex being the sun who’s just always out of reach. At some point, he had to choose between his friendship with Yoongi and his own self preservation. 

That had been three years ago, though. He’s grown, at least he thinks so. He’s doing much better than he thought he would, has a few clients under his belt where he’s not questioning his life or career choices like he used to. The Namjoon from three years ago would never believe him if you had said this then. 

He sighs as his thoughts run wild. That had been a problem too, the thoughts. The ugly ones that would come out at night and Yoongi used to kiss them quiet, spoon him even though he was the smaller of the two until he was fast asleep again. 

“Do you mind if I hit it?”

Namjoon flinches as if he’s been burned, throwing a glare back at Yoongi as he chuckles. He wordlessly hands him the blunt, still looking ahead at the dark sky. He can hear Jungkook’s laughter along with Seokjin’s whining from below them. 

“Why aren’t you down there?” Namjoon asks after moments of silence. 

He watches Yoongi take a pull and exhale. He looks beautiful. “Why aren’t you?”

Namjoon smirks. “Just needed some air.”

“It’s been two hours.”

Oh. Namjoon thinks. He noticed I was gone? He bites his lip nervously. “I was thinking.”

Yoongi hums, taking another pull. He hands him the blunt back and Namjoon feels like he’s moving in slow motion as he takes it from his hand. “I’m still a good listener.”

Namjoon smiles to himself. “I don’t doubt it.”

Yoongi considers him for a moment, platinum blonde hair pushed back from his forehead, ripped jeans and a baggy sweater. “I don’t want to force you into anything but… I am still here, you know. For you.” Namjoon’s head snaps up to meet his eyes but Yoongi is looking down at his shoes. “I understood you needed time after… you know.” He murmurs and Namjoon is grateful. “But I never wanted you to disappear.”

 He did ask him to stay, after all. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, the drugs finally getting to him and he feels ashamed. “It wasn’t right but I —“

“Hey, it’s okay.” Yoongi says, hesitating before he puts a hand on his leg for comfort. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

Namjoon laughs but it comes out choked. “We were best friends.”

Yoongi’s face falls and he takes the blunt out of Namjoon’s hand taking a long pull as he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, they’re wet. “It’s not the end all be all. That can change.”

Namjoon breathes out once, twice. Then murmurs quietly, scared, “do you want that?”

Yoongi fixes him with a stare, a cheeky smile playing on his thin lips. “Do you?”

A laugh bubbles its way out of his chest and he smiles. He doesn’t answer Yoongi’s question but the way they stare wordlessly at each other with small smiles is enough to give him the answer he needs. 

Waking up the next morning is, well, weird. 

He’s painfully aware of Yoongi’s presence. He had woken up to the sound of guitar strings being played, now he’s by the balcony with another blunt in his hand. There’s soft music playing in the room, quiet enough to lull Namjoon back to sleep if he wanted to. He shifts instead, watching Yoongi through tired eyes. If this were another universe he would probably drag him back to bed, kiss his face until his gummy smile made an appearance. 

But this isn’t another universe.

Namjoon closes his eyes as the painful pang in his heart subsides. He does not want to be sad about this anymore. 

“Didn’t get high enough last night?” He breaks the silence, breath faltering when Yoongi turns to him, barefaced and hair a mess. 

“No, but you did.”

Namjoon flushes. “Shut up.”

Yoongi cackles, walking towards him after he ashes the blunt outside. He climbs onto his bed like they haven’t ever been apart and Namjoon eyes the stars on his thighs. “Did you sleep well?”

Namjoon nods, motioning for Yoongi to pass the blunt. He does it easily, watching as Namjoon’s eyes close as he lets the smoke fly out of his mouth. “That’s good.”

“Jimin never disappoints.”

“Speaking of,” he stretches, passing the blunt back to Yoongi. “Where are they?”

“Something about the market and breakfast,” he replies lazily, he lays down painfully close to Namjoon’s covered thighs. “You’re still so tense.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, because he is. 

Yoongi smiles. “It’s okay.” 

They stay like that, passing the blunt back and forth and Namjoon really feels it now, chuckling whenever Yoongi says something remotely funny. He’s learned about what he does now. He produces beats for nightclubs who put out their best offers. He’s produced for artists but he’s mostly freelance, sticking to the party scene because it’s where he fits in best. 

In turn, Namjoon tells him about his clients he has, how he recently got offered a good amount of money to produce for an underground artist. He also tells him how he produces songs of his own, something he has only ever told Seokjin and Jimin and Yoongi’s face lights up at the information, like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. 

“Joon, that’s amazing,” he praises, cheeks flushed and an oversized shirt coming up his thighs. Namjoon wants to touch. “And all that time you spent doubting yourself.”

“Hey,” he whines pitifully. 

“You doubt yourself way too much, always did,” Yoongi tells him rather seriously that it makes Namjoon pause halfway through his pull. “You’re talented. I’m glad people finally noticed and,” he looks shy as he looks at him and Namjoon can’t help but remember he rarely ever does get shy. “I’m proud of you.”

Namjoon smiles thankfully, the drugs getting the better of him as he traces a star on his thigh. He feels so soft, as soft as he remembers. “I’m proud of you too.”

Yoongi looks down at Namjoon’s hand but doesn’t stop him. “Look at us. Told you we’d make it.”

“Together.” He mumbles, hand and heart stopping at the look Yoongi gives him. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, looking at Namjoon like it’s the first time he’s seeing him. 

The weekend passes by way too fast for Namjoon’s liking. Before he knows it, it’s Sunday and they leave the big house they rented out and head back into the bustling city the next day. 

He’s gotten used to sharing a space with Yoongi again. It’s nice. He’s never been big or keen on sharing his space but it’s always been easy with him, they just click. It should scare him, how painfully familiar it is — how it feels like nothing changed between them even though almost everything changed. 

They laugh together like they used to, the touches come easily even when it isn’t meant to be flirty, just something that ends up happening. 

They don’t see much of Jimin, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung or Jungkook. Namjoon can’t tell if it’s because they’ve had plans to take Jimin out since this was planned or because he’s been stuck in his own world with Yoongi for the better half of the weekend. 

Whatever it is, he finds himself in the living room stretched out on the big couch playing one of the beats he produced recently. It’s light, something he isn’t used to making because he never knew how to make anything soft or delicate. But it’s never too late to learn things. 

It’s a sweet melody. One that would sound like a love song to a listening ear. The Seokjin in his head snickers at him. 

There is a quiet piano in the background falling in tune with the strings he added. This is as delicate as it comes for him. 

The front door opens slowly revealing Yoongi who is dressed in an oversized sweater with rips and sweats. Namjoon tries not to notice how the hairs at the back of his neck stand up knowing he’s in the same room again. He hasn’t seen much of him today but when Yoongi meets his eyes there’s nothing malicious behind them. 

Namjoon has got to stop thinking the most negative things, it isn’t healthy. 

“What’s that?” Yoongi asks gently, closing the door behind him. He’s giving Namjoon the decision to dodge the question, he notices. 

“Something I made about a week ago.” 

Yoongi hums, nodding. “It sounds good.”

Namjoon looks up at him. “Thank you.”

They stare at each other in silence for what feels like hours but can’t have been more than a couple of seconds. Yoongi is the one who breaks their eye contact, pulling something out of his pocket. “Want to take a break?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise and he brushes his hair back. “What do you have in mind?”

Turns out Yoongi’s break idea was playing a game. Namjoon’s laptop is stashed away under a pillow along with his headphones, watching as Yoongi lights the end of the spliff until it catches, blowing the smoke in his face playfully. “Okay, so here’s the game.”

“I’m listening.”

“We take turns asking each other questions. You can either answer or take a hit.” Yoongi explains, head tilting to the side and Namjoon’s eyes catch the glitter in his ears. “Easy, right?”

Namjoon nods slowly, wetting his lips. He’s unsure of the words that are about to come out of his mouth. “Is anything off limits?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon’s leg bounces nervously. “Is there anything I shouldn’t ask about?”

Yoongi eyes him carefully, considering him. “I have nothing to hide.” He doesn’t say the words but Namjoon can read it clearly in his eyes. Do you?

“I don’t either.”

The tense atmosphere breaks and Yoongi smiles small. “Cool. I’ll go first.”

Namjoon braces himself for a personal question but then relaxes. Yoongi was never like that, he thinks fondly. 

“First word that came to mind when you first saw me again?”

Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate. “Fuck.”

“Fuck?” Yoongi cackles, nudging him. “Damn, I didn’t think I was that bad.”

“You’re not,” Namjoon is quick to console. “It was more because I was reminded of some of the best moments in my life.” He then coughs, flushing as Yoongi’s eyes widen. “I mean. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

He gives him time to process his words and his mouth is in a cute kind of pout that looks more like a frown. Namjoon wants to kiss it off of his face. “My turn.” He takes the spliff from Yoongi for a pull. The smoke drifts between them, taking the unsaid words between them high into the air until it disappears. “When did you learn how to play guitar?”

Yoongi’s eyes lighten up, sitting up a bit straighter. “It was after my shoulder surgery. I felt so low and helpless not being able to do the things I always did. I took it up as a hobby until my shoulder was fully healed but it kind of stuck.” He shrugs. “Plus I’m good at it.”

“You are,” Namjoon agrees. “You should play for me sometime.”

Yoongi hides a smile by biting his lip. “Sure.” Then his eyes turn sharp, looking down at Namjoon’s lap. “Last lay?”

Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I bet you were dying to ask that.”

“Hey, I’ve always been curious.”

“You sure you want to know?” Namjoon teases as memories flood into his head of a pink haired boy who was under him less than a week ago. It was good, but nothing to keep him coming back. 

“Actually,” Yoongi says, “don’t tell me.”

Namjoon doesn’t press, just takes a hit. “What about you? I’m going to uno reverse you now.”

“You’re so lame,” Yoongi laughs, reaching for the spliff like he’s ready to take a hit just to spite him. But part of him actually wants to know. Does anyone satisfy him the way he used to? Know all the places he’s most sensitive? 

“I want to know.”

Yoongi raises a brow. Then he smiles cheekily, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Namjoon watches helplessly again as diamonds glisten under the light. “Two weekends ago.”

That was around the time they saw each other again, he notes ignoring the drop in his stomach. He shouldn’t be jealous. He’s lost himself in other bodies, he expected Yoongi to do the same. 

Nevertheless it stings. 

“Do you still have my black sweater?”

The question takes Namjoon by surprise. “Hyung, all of your sweaters are black.” He deadpans. 

Yoongi giggles. Like actually giggles and it’s so cute. “I know. But I mean the big fear of god one that was oversized even on you, the one you…”

He doesn’t say it but Namjoon catches on immediately. 

The one you fucked me in.

Namjoon swallows with a short nod. He never did give it back after the fact anyway, stashing it away in his closet after the break up at the memories it brought up. “I have it.” He says, voice surprisingly low. “Why?”

Namjoon braves looking into his eyes but Yoongi isn’t looking at him but his skin still burns like he is. He looks almost pleased. “Just asking.”

Namjoon makes a move to grab the lighter from him but Yoongi pulls his hand back. “Let me,” he murmurs, flicking the lighter until a flame burns bright between them. Namjoon’s eyes lock with Yoongi’s as he leans forward to burn the tip and he’s wondering if everything they did was ever this erotic or if it’s just Namjoon being deprived. 

Yoongi wets his lips as he pulls away and Namjoon remembers it’s his turn. “Want to shotgun with me?” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it. 

Damn, maybe the drugs are getting to him. 

Yoongi’s lips quirk up almost as if he’s surprised but not at the same time. He doesn’t vocalize an answer, just moves closer to where he sits on the couch. It’s obvious he’s unsure of what to do next and Namjoon is suddenly brought back to when they were first dating, shy and nervous to even touch the other. Yoongi had reacted like that too. 

Namjoon places the spliff between his lips, grasping Yoongi’s hips, lifting him up as he gasps quietly until he’s placed on his lap. Namjoon then takes a pull, letting the smoke drift between them like a cloud. Yoongi takes it from him, eyes half lidded. 

“Is that a no?” Namjoon asks, holding his breath and waiting for the rejection he’s sure won’t come. 

Yoongi takes a pull, the orange hue glowing in the slightly darkening room. When did it get so dark anyway? He then leans down to Namjoon’s mouth and he parts his lips awaiting the smoke to be blown in. Their lips touch slightly and Namjoon has to stop himself from flinching, from reaching out and grabbing his waist to smash their lips together. But he did agree to doing this too, right? So is he thinking the same thing too?

Their eyes meet and Namjoon can’t find an answer. 

“No,” Yoongi finally replies as he blows the remaining smoke to the side. 

“Is this weird?” Namjoon asks, the question weighing heavily in the air. 

Yoongi smiles, reaching his eyes as he ashes the spliff, leaving it to the side as he shakes his head. “I don’t care if it’s weird.” He chuckles lowly and if Namjoon was thinking clearly maybe a bit sultry. Namjoon’s hands clench in his sweater. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Namjoon gulps. “Is it bad that I want to?”

“No,” he whispers out, “I want to, too.”

That’s all Namjoon needs before he tugs Yoongi closer on his lap to meet his desperate lips. He tastes like the drugs they smoked and so distinctly Yoongi that he can’t help but groan. He missed him, his lips, his taste. He feels one of Yoongi’s hands in his hair and something snaps in him, gripping Yoongi’s thighs tightly through his sweats. 

Yoongi has always kissed him delicately, softly in the past. But now his lips are moving like he can’t get enough, like if he doesn’t continue kissing Namjoon he’ll slip away from his fingers. 

Namjoon pulls away and Yoongi is flushed. Cheeks pink, breathing heavily, thin lips kissed swollen as he pants with his eyes closed. 

The door opens then and Namjoon barely has time to register their position when he hears a whistle. 

“We left you guys alone for three hours!”

“It smells like weed and sex in here.”

“Um not sex,” Namjoon corrects, holding Yoongi still as he moves. “We didn’t fuck.”

“Yet.” Jungkook snickers along with Taehyung. 

They both roll their eyes at their cackles, moving from their compromising position. Yoongi excuses himself to their room and the way he ignores Namjoon’s eyes tells him he shouldn’t enter unless he wants to walk in on something. He gulps as he passes, not even realizing the others are staring at him. 

“Namjoon it’s never a good idea to fuck your ex.”

“I didn’t fuck him, hyung,” Namjoon sighs although he knows Seokjin is right. “Honest.” He wants to crawl away from the look in Jimin’s eyes. 

“Just be careful, hyung.”

“J-Joon— ah — fuck me, p-please— yesyesyesyes—“

Namjoon swears, grabbing the god damned oversized shirt that seemed to be taunting him this whole time. It grazed the top of Yoongi’s thighs beautifully, showing enough skin to reveal the snake wrapped around his left thigh. He grabs onto that thigh now, using it for leverage to fuck into him. 

Yoongi’s hands grip the headboard above him, pushing his hips down until Namjoon slows down into a grind and Yoongi does this thing between smiling and smirking as he bites down on his lip and god if that isn’t the hottest thing Namjoon has ever seen. 

“Fuck. You’re so sexy, baby. So sexy.” He moans into Yoongi’s mouth and the other does this sultry little giggle that breaks out into a moan as Namjoon pushes deeper. 

“S-so big and deep—“

“That’s how you like it.” He grunts, pushing the shirt up to latch his lips onto his perky little pink nipples. The reaction is instantaneous. Yoongi’s back arches and his mouth drops open in a silent scream. His thighs are trembling in his grip, a telltale sign that his orgasm is approaching but Yoongi never likes having him pump him dry. He loves coming untouched, fucked stupid from Namjoon’s cock. “Gonna make a mess?”

“U-uh huh,” he nods eagerly, all shame thrown out the window. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come—“

Buzz. Buzz. 

Namjoon groans tiredly as his phone continues buzzing. He hears the others downstairs probably getting ready to leave and he squints his eyes open to the other side of the room. 

Yoongi isn’t here. 

Jimin’s words just be careful ring in his ears like a warning and he suddenly takes it as one too. Before they could even address it, Yoongi had disappeared. 

He ignores the sour taste in his mouth and the hard on in his pants as he gets up to shuffle around the too bright of a room he’s in. When he’s got himself together he finally looks at his phone and he’s surprised when he sees a text from Yoongi unread at the top of his notifications.

Meet me at the club sometime this week. 

And bring that beat you were playing. 

The ride back home isn’t as eventful as Namjoon thought it would have been considering the position he was found in yesterday but the others seem to not want to press or just forgot about it. 

Jimin’s giggles fill his ears and he smiles, laughing along to Hoseok’s loud laugh and the sound of Seokjin groaning as he drives. Jungkook is leaning his head on him, sleeping soundly. It should be gross how there’s a wet spot on Namjoon’s shoulder but he’s nothing but endeared. 

“Little quiet back there, Joon,” Seokjin teases. 

“It’s probably the weed,” Hoseok says at the same time Taehyung says; “it’s probably Yoongi.”

“Maybe both.” Jimin giggles, silver hair flying in the wind from the open car window. 

“So, are you going to tell us what happened or are we going to pretend it never happened?” Seokjin says after moments of silence and beside him Jimin tenses in the slightest while Taehyung clears his throat. “I still stand by what I said: fucking your ex is never a good idea.”

“Not before talking first,” Jimin tells him. 

“For the last time,” Namjoon sighs, getting tired of having to repeat himself. “We didn’t have sex.” Then quieter, “we did kiss, though.”

Seokjin groans and he hates the feeling of dread that overwhelms him thinking he’s disappointed in him. They all want him to be safe after all. “It’s been a weekend.”

“There’s history!” He argues weakly. “We weren’t always exes. We were also friends.” 

He watches the four of them soften as he says that, laying off just a bit. The youngest one mumbles in his sleep and he shushes him quietly. 

“We just don’t want you to get hurt.” Taehyung reminds him softly and he’s always been the softer one of the three, hating conflict. 

 Jimin starts looking at him with a look that makes him cower. “You did break up with him in the first place. I know it’s confusing for you but imagine how it is for him.”

Namjoon frowns, knowing Jimin is right but that doesn’t mean he has to like hearing it. He stays quiet, the atmosphere turning tense once more. He hates that he’s right, he shouldn’t even have given into his desires; it was selfish, unfair. He hurt Yoongi enough and now he’s back in his life that Namjoon is already taking the same dark path. 

“You’re right.” He concedes, not bothering to say anything else. Jimin looks torn, Seokjin’s eyes close with a sigh while Taehyung stays silent. Jimin looks like he wants to say something but Namjoon doesn’t give him the chance, putting his headphones over his ears and looking out the window. 

Despite his better judgment, he falls off the face of the earth for the next couple of days.

The rest of the ride home that Monday was tense with the conversation they had looming over them like a dark cloud. Jungkook had woken up confused when Namjoon shook him awake to exit the car. Jimin had apologized but if Namjoon was honest, he didn’t want to hear it. They all knew how torn up he was over Yoongi. Had seen him struggle the last couple of years to get back on his feet and for them to say that he’s purposely making the decision to hurt both of them, again, left the pit of his stomach bubbling with anger. 

The texts Yoongi sent him that Monday stay on his phone, read, no answer. The words of his friends echoing whenever he wanted to reach out. 

Logically he knew they had to talk about it. He couldn’t disappear on him again. Not after the weekend they shared. It was familiar, intimate.

Namjoon sighs as his phone rings again, he sees Seokjin’s name flash on the screen and he flips it over — squinting at the laptop screen as the serene melody he played over the weekend floods his speakers. He’s been making adjustments here and there, tweaking some instruments and adding some vocals. If anyone asked him, he was not doing it to impress Yoongi. Of course not. 

Eventually, it becomes tiresome. His phone won’t stop ringing and his eyes are burning from the strain. He gives up, grabbing his jacket and phone as he walks out the door. 

It’s petty. Being here after he distinctly remembers his own voice telling Jimin that he’s right but, he’s never been level headed when it came to Yoongi. 

Plus, he’s solely here for his own benefit; seeing why he wanted his beat. 

Namjoon has eyes on him right away. He’s in the back with a glass in his hand talking to an attractive looking girl. She’s smiling, patting him on his back and whatever she’s saying has Yoongi flushing. He must feel his eyes on him because a second later Yoongi is looking at him even though the girl beside him is still talking. Namjoon swallows, tilting his head to the bar. 

He feels out of place as he sits on a stool, and severely underdressed for a Friday night at a club only in black jeans and a white tee with a jean jacket thrown over it. Yoongi makes his way over, smelling like honey and Namjoon turns to him with a smile before he actually chokes.

Because while he isn’t dressed for a Friday night out, Yoongi is. He’s got a silk white button up with a pearl necklace beautifully decorating his neck, leather pants skin tight against his legs and he has to swallow hard when there’s a cut mid thigh on the pants that exposes his skin with a chain. 

“You came,” Yoongi greets, effectively taking him out of his staring but he’s smirking like he’s all knowing of Namjoon’s inner turmoil. “Did you bring it?”

Namjoon wordlessly passes a USB with the most updated version of that melody he played for Yoongi (?) during the weekend. Yoongi looks pleased, humming as he takes another sip of whatever dark liquor he’s drinking. He thinks it’s whiskey. “Why did you want it?”

“To play it, of course.”

“Here?” He asks, laughing a bit in disbelief. It’s not new to have his music played somewhere, but somewhere as pretentious as this, brings him as much joy as producing for an artist is. 

“Where else, dummy?” Yoongi deadpans, once again unimpressed. “I liked it. I think it’ll match the vibe here.”

“But…” It sounds like a love song. He wants to say, but then Yoongi will ask and that’s even worse. 

“Don’t even think of trying to talk me out of it. I’ve made up my mind.” He takes the USB off of the table like it’s a victory and Namjoon rolls his eyes. 

“I think you’re drunk.”

Yoongi pouts, like actually pouts. Namjoon’s heart is about to go into overdrive. “I think you’re no fun.”

Namjoon snickers, waving down the bartender for a drink as he relents. “There. I have a drink coming.”

Sitting up straighter, Yoongi smiles. “Good.”

A glass is slid in front of him and he takes a sip, cringing at the burn in his throat. He doesn’t know how Yoongi drinks this. “Gross.”

“Weak,” Yoongi teases, finishing his glass. “Come on, wanna show you something.”

“Shouldn’t we talk first?” He questions, not wanting to do anything more to disappoint his friends. As petty as he’s being tonight, they were right but he knows what he’s doing. He wishes they trusted him more. 

Yoongi tilts his head like a confused puppy, although he looks more like a kitten, and sighs. “Do you want to talk? Do we need to?”

“I-I think we should try so things aren’t awkward.”

“This isn’t conventional to begin with,” Yoongi snorts, eyes glossy. He can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or the topic of conversation. “Just. Not tonight, okay?”

Namjoon swallows. “Okay.”

Yoongi motions to follow him and somehow, Namjoon feels like he’s digging himself into a deeper hole as he makes his grave to lay in. By the end of this, if there is an end, he’ll have no one to blame but himself. 

Yoongi takes him to a dark room on the second floor and the entire time he spent climbing up the stairs, he was trying not to focus on Yoongi’s thighs as he climbed up. He failed, by the way. 

They enter this music room that looks more like Yoongi’s personal studio. Namjoon is impressed to say the least. The space is so distinctly Yoongi that it takes him for a loop. In their friendship/relationship he’s only seen Yoongi’s room a handful of times, they spent most of their time in Namjoon’s studio apartment rather than his smaller apartment. He was always the most private one of the two, it never bothered Namjoon but seeing a space decorated to Yoongi’s liking is different. Makes him feel like he’s someone special enough to want to share this with. 

Yoongi has more liquor in the room of course and he pours himself another glass, opening his arms like he’s introducing something while Namjoon laughs. “So?”

Namjoon nods in silent approval. “It looks like your place.” It’s decorated in dark decor, some CDs hanging on the walls, a black couch in the corner, he sees his notebook and pen thrown around on his studio table with lyrics sprawled onto it and Yoongi catches it quickly, smiling shyly as he closes it. 

“It’s not ready.” He says as an explanation but Namjoon never needed one from him. He simply shrugs with a small smile suddenly feeling out of place now that he and Yoongi are alone again with no interruptions. “Want a drink?”

“If it’s whiskey again, I’ll pass.”

Yoongi snorts, muttering a quiet weak again as he fills his glass again. “So, talk?”

Namjoon had completely forgotten he was trying to be responsible. Or logical. He swallows, avoiding the older’s sharp gaze as he sips. He laces his fingers together. “I’m not trying to hurt you…” again his mind supplies as he starts. “We can chalk up that kiss we shared to us both being high,” he chuckles a bit, “I think we could get away with that.”

Yoongi pulls his lips into his mouth. “What if I don’t want that?”

Namjoon’s heart stops as he picks at a rip in his pants. He couldn’t possibly mean… “Do you want it to mean something?” If Namjoon didn’t know better the look in Yoongi’s eyes looks hopeful but he’s misunderstood things before. 

“What if it’s just a thing?” 

Yoongi is walking towards him with slow strides and Namjoon swallows, giving him a once over as he feels his eyes darkening. “A thing?” He repeats, hesitant as Yoongi stands before him. 

Yoongi throws a leg over Namjoon’s lap, settling comfortably as he wraps his arms around his neck. It’s frightening how easily Namjoon just lets him do whatever. He looks up at the shorter boy and he feels as lost as he looks, caught like a deer in headlights. “Don’t be so naive, Joon-ah.”

And oh as those words are whispered in his ear, he shivers, hands itching to grab on to Yoongi but he knows better. He should, anyway. The older boy pulls back, eyes half lidded but still alluring and sharp as they stare down at Namjoon. His eyes sparkle with unsaid words and unasked questions. Namjoon wants to dig them both up with his bare hands if it will reveal what’s in those eyes dying to be said. 

“It’s just me,” Yoongi says and Namjoon knows. It doesn’t make it any easier. Namjoon was never made for fuck buddy situations and if that’s what he thinks Yoongi is insinuating… he’s more scared of himself falling face first into the storm that is the older boy instead of the consequences that will follow. 

But like he previously mentioned, he has never been level headed when it came to Yoongi. 

That’s the part of him that pulls Yoongi towards him until their flush, lips meeting desperately. It should be more organized, more put together but it’s not. It’s hot, wet and messy — his hand sliding up the older’s throat until it just rests there, not applying pressure, just a slight grip. 

However, the reaction from Yoongi is immediate. His head rolls back until Namjoon brings it back up, biting down on his bottom lip as a punishment. 

There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants to do but he shoves the words down Yoongi’s throat along with his tongue. If only he could taste all his unsaid thoughts. 

Did you want this?

Is this something you can only get from me?

Were you waiting for me?

Do you miss me?

Do you miss us?

Namjoon pulls away, overwhelmed by his racing thoughts but Yoongi is right there to pull him back to present time with his teeth on his neck. Despite his better judgment, he rolls his head to the side to welcome the hard bites that will bloom into purple bruises later. He shouldn’t mark him, but Namjoon feels too good to stop him.  

Yoongi leaves little bites down his neck that burn even as his mouth leaves his heated skin. He looks pleased, pearls shining in the dim light and then it hits him. Anyone could walk in here and see Yoongi on his lap with Namjoon laying pilantly under him. What a sight that would be…

“No ones going to come in here,” Yoongi assures, reading his mind. His fingers remove Namjoon’s jacket and slide under his shirt. The skin on skin contact has him biting his lip as he stares up at him. 

“Y-you sound so sure,” he swallows for the nth time, arching as a finger swipes over his nipple.

“‘Cause I am.” Is whispered against his lips before Yoongi is pulling away again. He plays with the buttons of his silk shirt and when Namjoon meets his eyes he starts undoing them slowly. 

Namjoon’s stomach is filled with liquid fire as he watches him, fingers working slowly but precisely until all he sees is skin. His hands process faster than his brain does, reaching out to feel, touch, remember how it feels to have him fall apart in his hands. His skin is soft, and Namjoon has always loved how soft it was under his fingers. Perfect to squeeze and mold into anything he wanted. 

Yoongi is panting when he meets Namjoon’s lips again, his hands pushing him back as Namjoon pushes his shirt off of his shoulders. They break apart for a moment so Namjoon can pull his shirt off of his head. They meet again, skin on skin and Namjoon groans at the heat emitting from the elder and Yoongi shivers, overwhelmed. 

Although it’s been awhile, he’s never remembered Yoongi to be this pilant. He’s always been the one to order Namjoon around, praising him endlessly while the latter whines and blushes. For him to give up all control this easily even after all this time… has Namjoon’s stomach churning. 

Fingers tangle in Yoongi’s long hair, pulling his head back harshly. He’s met with dark eyes and he swallows, making subtle movements with his hips. 

“Quiet now, hyung?” Namjoon murmurs, lips attaching to his pulse point and sucking harshly. Yoongi lets out a moan that cracks halfway through as Namjoon bites down hard again and it makes his cock twitch in his pants. “Still didn’t answer me,”

“Shut up. Don’t get cocky,” is the reply he gets but Namjoon is undeterred. He feels the elder’s hips moving on his own, his trembling hands on his skin. 

“You’re telling me one thing but your body is telling me another.” Namjoon pushes, pecking his lips once, twice. Yoongi whines quietly when Namjoon licks at his bottom lip. “So needy. Did you miss me that bad?”

Namjoon doesn’t know that Yoongi wants to say yes but instead he pushes the silent answer down his throat, fingers fumbling at his pants. Namjoon uses the hand that’s still in his hair to pull his head back as he sucks on his tongue. Yoongi’s gaze is half lidded, hands still working on his pants. 

While Namjoon doesn’t like whiskey, it tastes sweet on Yoongi’s tongue. 

The elder whines when Namjoon pulls away, taking pity on him as he pushes his pants down just enough to pull his cock out, already hard and leaking. Yoongi’s eyes glaze over as he messily moves off of Namjoon’s lap to remove his own pants and boxers. Namjoon’s eyes catch the stars on one thigh and the snake wrapped around the other and he remembers licking the shape of each one while the other whined above him. 

He swallows, anticipation bubbling deep in his gut. 

Yoongi grabs a bottle of lube from a drawer and throws it to Namjoon who catches it, already squeezing some on his fingers as the elder sits back down on his lap. He kisses up his neck with little nips here and there. Namjoon’s eyes close, a hand going down to his ass to spread the cheek apart to tease a finger. Yoongi jumps but he doesn’t move from his spot from his neck, long hair tickling his skin. 

“Don’t need prep,” he whispers to him. 

Namjoon falters when Yoongi reaches down to pump his cock in his hand. “Hyung, it’s been awhile.” He reminds him. 

Yoongi still is unphased. “You know I like it when it hurts,” he gasps when Namjoon slides a finger in with little resistance. 

A brow raises at Yoongi before its wiped off of his face, mouth dropping open at the contact from Yoongi’s hand as he lifts his hips to grind back on his cock. “Hyung.” Namjoon tries to warn again but Yoongi kisses him, effectively quieting him. He feels a cool liquid being slicked on his cock and he shivers in anticipation. 

Namjoon relents, sliding his finger out but as quick as he slides it out Yoongi is sliding down on him and Namjoon groans out loud, praying to anything that this room is soundproof. 

“Like it when it hurts, Joonie,” Yoongi says again but this time it’s broken. “Like feeling split open — fuck. You’re so big —“

“Dirty.” Namjoon chides, almost sounding like a complaint but he’s letting out a low whine after, grabbing a hold of Yoongi’s hips to control his movements. 

Yoongi’s head is thrown back, letting out hiccuping moans as he bounces on Namjoon’s cock. He looks… unreal. He always does but there’s something intimate seeing him this way again, how good it feels, how it feels like coming home. 

It should scare him and maybe he’ll regret it later but now all he Namjoon can do is bask in the moment. 

“Pretty,” Namjoon praises, grabbing at the elder’s ass as he rocks with him. Yoongi looks up at that, lip caught in between his teeth but Namjoon can see he’s smiling but it’s wiped off his face when Namjoon kisses him deep — all tongue and teeth. 

“Ha—fuck,” Yoongi moans against his lips, guiding one of Namjoon’s hands to his throat. He meets his glazed over eyes, dark, alluring and sharp. His hand applies a slight pressure and Yoongi’s mouth drops open, head falling forward into the grip. 

Namjoon feels like he’s going insane, Yoongi is driving him to the edge and he’s about to fall off of it right after him. His stomach clenches at Yoongi’s hiccuped moans that sound like are being punched out of him at every jolt of Namjoon’s hips. His hand still rests on his throat, head bowed back even as Namjoon calls him. 

“Hyung, look at me.”

Yoongi’s eyes look like glittering slits when they open to look at him. His lip is bitten red, cheeks flushed and hair mussed up from Namjoon’s grabbing. He looks like sin, straight out of Namjoon’s wet dream. 

Namjoon spreads his cheeks apart, slowing down to a grind as he pushes his hips to the hilt and that’s when the elder breaks eye contact, falling forward into the crook of his neck. “J-Joon — ah—“

“Like that, right hyung?” He says tauntingly but it doesn’t sound convincing with the tremor in his voice, showing how affected he really is. “You’ve always liked it deep,” he murmurs in his ear, letting out a groan when Yoongi clenches around him making his hips stutter. “Always love it when I’m deep. Even if it burns, right?”

“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling away and he’s sitting there taking whatever Namjoon wants to give and he can count on his fingers the amount of times he was this pilant. “Y-yeah. Love when you’re deep — oh —” his head falls back, neck bared to him and some primal part of him wants to bite him until he bleeds. “Fuck me so good. Gonna make me come.”

“Already?” Namjoon’s hands slide up his skin body, one hand still fondling his ass and he grips the soft skin, enjoying the way Yoongi moves back against his touch. “I’ve barely done anything.”

“Please,” he breathes, eyes glossy. 

“You can come, I’m not stopping you.”

Yoongi bounces as Namjoon thrusts his hips and he chokes on another moan, thighs trembling as Namjoon grips them. Tears are glistening in his eyes and Namjoon never pegged him to be a crier, either. 

“That good you’re crying for it?” Namjoon chuckles, breathless. He feels the elder’s fingers in his hair and they tug his head back. His mouth drops open for Yoongi when he feeds his moans into his mouth. He whispers his next question; “did you miss it that much?”

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s broken reply and Namjoon falters, heart beating to a stop. He didn’t expect a response, let alone an honest one but Yoongi is looking at him with stars in his eyes, sparkling rivers streaming down his face. Namjoon, in a daze, pulls him back down to his lips as his hips move faster. Surely he’s hitting his prostate from Yoongi’s sobbing moans. It’s only confirmed when his cock twitches between them. 

“Gonna come, hyung?” He breathes into his ear as the elder nods. “Make a mess?”

“Yes, yes, yes — ah, fuck me dry, Joon,” his fingers tug his hair again, voice dropping. “I need it.”

“Hyung,” he sounds like he’s about to cry but he’s overwhelmed. His heart and cock are in overdrive. But he’s moving faster to get them over the edge and it’s Yoongi who falls first, beautifully so. His voice cracks through an octave and somewhere in Namjoon’s mind he wants to record it and have it accompanied with a melody but its wiped off of his mind when Yoongi clenches. 

“Where —“ he stammers, hoping Yoongi understands. 

“Inside,” Yoongi replies, hoarse, but he’s still clenching like he’s scared Namjoon will slip out. “Please.”

“Fuck, hyung,” Namjoon’s hands grips his hips, locking them into place and Yoongi just stares hazily when he feels Namjoon pulse as he releases in him. He smiles, sultry and brushes his hair back. 

Namjoon’s chest heaves and he still has his jeans around his thighs while Yoongi is beautifully naked on top of him. 

The feeling of dread fills him next, hitting him like a brick once the reality of what they’ve done settles in. He expects it to be awkward, he also expects to do the walk of shame out of this club and right back home with a heavy heart and the nagging feeling that his friends will just say they told him so. 

But Yoongi is only smiling at him, shy even after all they’ve done and all he’s said. 

Do you miss it that much?

Yeah.

It rings in his mind, wanting to know if it’s the truth or just said in the throes of lust. 

Yoongi falls forward hesitantly while Namjoon wraps his arms around him. This feels familiar too. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he jots down that they’ve done that while his own beat was playing in the background through the soundproof walls. 

The next morning he finds himself passed out in front of a door. He’s not sure which, just knows it’s not his own and he doesn’t know how he got here. He vaguely remembers the heated night before, Yoongi’s lips on his, hands on skin and he shivers, heat pooling in his stomach. 

Regardless, he doesn’t know where he is. He remembers drinking heavily with Yoongi after they danced. He had left after and his feet drug him somewhere that he doesn’t recognize right now through the pounding headache. He stumbles as he reaches for his phone, eyes squinting at the brightness and wow this is a new low, even for him. 

His last call reads Seokjin and it lasted about ten minutes and it pieces together then. 

The door opens and Seokjin stands there looking all sorts of sleepy with his purple hair a mess but his eyes widen in concern when he sees who is at his door. 

Namjoon forces a smile. “Hi, hyung.” He offers weakly and he feels the burn of his eyes as he takes in his appearance. He must look like a wreck, blonde hair mussed with marks from Yoongi’s lips on his neck. He feels the stare linger there and when Seokjin meets his eyes again he looks almost unimpressed but Namjoon is grateful he isn’t saying anything about it. At least not now anyway. 

He simply opens the door further so Namjoon can stumble off of the floor and follow him inside. Once he wills the world to stop spinning around him does he follow, a glass of water and some pills on the kitchen counter as Seokjin fixes himself a cup of coffee. Namjoon downs the whole cup of water and two tablets, sighing in relief but it’s short lived. 

“We were worried about you, you know.”

Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek. “I know.”

“Regardless of how we came off which was kind of harsh, I know, but we only meant well. We don’t want to see you get hurt again. And you were really torn up about him, Joon.” Seokjin explains and Namjoon feels guilt flood him like a river. “We’re your friends. You fell off the face of the earth for a week and show up at my doorstep knocked out drunk.”

Namjoon grimaces. Definitely not his best look. “I know. I’m sorry. I really am.” He tries to sound sincere but it comes out less than due to his still pounding headache and the fact that he sees two of Seokjin in front of him. “I just. I know what I’m doing and sometimes I need my friends. Not parents.”

Seokjin softens, pouring himself his coffee. It’s silent as he slowly sips at it until he speaks again. “I can understand that. We realized too late how we came off and when we tried to reach out you ignored us,” Namjoon frowns, looking down at his hands. “I’ll try not to be so hard on you when it comes to Yoongi, okay? We just don't want either of you to get hurt. It wasn’t fun to watch the first time around.” He gives him a pointed stare and Namjoon cowers, just a bit. 

It wasn’t fun, he agrees. It was full of tears and tantrums, drunk nights and Namjoon hasn’t woken up in front of a doorstep since the breakup happened. It’s only been a heated night they shared and he’s back to old habits. 

“I’ll be careful.” He promises Seokjin but he’s saying it mostly for himself, too.

The tense moment passes as Seokjin proceeds to tease him about the marks on his neck to which Namjoon blushes — stammering out an explanation. 

He ends up telling him and Hoseok, who had stumbled out of the elder’s room a few moments after looking just as sleepy as Seokjin did prior — Namjoon didn’t ask questions. He spent most of his time speaking looking at his hands, whining in between sentences that everything that had happened was not what he had planned. 

By the end of it Seokjin is looking at him with a blank stare. “And you still don’t think getting back together is an option?”

“You’re not that dense, Joon.” Hoseok adds, sipping from Seokjin’s coffee cup. Gross, when did that even happen?

“Fuck buddies exist.” Namjoon points out. “That could be all he wants and if he wants me to fill that position…”

“Who are you to deny?” Hoseok snickers. 

Seokjin nudges him until he’s coughing to cover his giggles. “Yoongi was never big on friends with benefits either. You know that.”

He did, who’s to say that didn’t change? Namjoon doesn’t say that out loud though. He simply shrugs. He promised them he would be careful, that should be enough for now. 

Seokjin offers up his guest room for Namjoon but he would much rather be in his own apartment, in his own bed. So he makes the trek home after his headache goes down a few notches and the sun isn’t as bright. 

He’s walking through his door when he reads the two texts he got from Yoongi that is a puking emoji followed by a picture of him in bed with his dark hair covering his eyes. Namjoon swallows, remembering how it felt between his fingers. He replies back with water emojis, thinking of all the whiskey Yoongi downed last night. Maybe he wouldn’t remember anything. 

Then Namjoon wouldn’t have to talk to him about anything else. 

That’s wishful thinking. 

He sees Yoongi’s cat eyes when Jimin opens his door to his studio apartment the night after, throwing his arms around Namjoon’s neck. He wraps his arms back around Jimin, eyes on Yoongi who’s staring at him like he’s the only one in the room and not surrounded by their mutual friends. 

But God, does he look good. His hair falls messily over his eyes in the way that only he can make work, he’s wearing an oversized long sleeved shirt with black cargos with chains hanging from their sides. Namjoon tears his eyes away just as Jimin pulls away with a smile.

“I’m sure Seokjin passed along the message but I’m really sorry,” Jimin tells him. Namjoon actually focuses on what he’s saying, eyes falling on his pout. “I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries.”

Namjoon presses a kiss to the shorter boy’s forehead, smiling when he seems to relax. “It’s okay. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t right. I guess I just didn’t want to hear it.”

Jimin hums, understanding. “I support you. We all do.”

Namjoon’s heart clenches painfully. “I know.”

He hears Jungkook whine in the background. “Stop being mushy and play with us!”

Jimin giggles, giving in to his younger boyfriend as he goes to sit beside him. The only spot free is next to Yoongi and he really doesn’t mind however, his mind is coincidentally replaying the images of Yoongi’s open mouth and kissed red lips. When he looks at the elder, he’s smirking and he probably knows about Namjoon’s inner turmoil. He turns away, pointedly not looking at the bruises he left on Yoongi’s neck. 

“You look better than you did yesterday morning.” Seokjin comments, playful. Namjoon just shoots him a glare with no malice. 

They end up playing Never Have I ever which takes Namjoon back to the fuzzy feeling of being tipsy. Yoongi is whispering something to him that makes him chuckle. They’re all talking amongst themselves, occasionally stopping to do a shot together. 

He’s enjoying himself, all the negative feelings he felt late last night into early yesterday morning are just white noise in his mind now. He’s with his friends, with Yoongi, something he would have never imagined after what happened. 

It’s the alcohol, he thinks when he fondly watches Jimin cuddle his two boyfriends who are watching Hoseok while passing a joint between them. Somehow, that joint is handed to Yoongi who is sprawled out on Namjoon’s lap, head on his thighs. He’s showing him something on his phone with the joint between his thin pink lips. He misses the looks of wonder from his friends when his fingers, without thought, move the long strands of Yoongi black hair away from his eyes so he can see his screen better. Yoongi looks up at him with a small smile, almost shy and he’s about to lean in, the drugs getting to him when Taehyung snickers. 

“That’s so gay.”

Moment ruined. Namjoon flushes, looking away from Yoongi’s gentle eyes to throw a glare at the younger who’s still giggling along with Jungkook like he told the funniest joke of the century. Who are they to judge, anyway? When they can barely spend five minutes apart from each other. 

Whether it’s from the heat he feels from Namjoon’s thighs or the fact that he knows how embarrassed he gets from teasing, Yoongi sits up, patting his head a bit as he turns to Seokjin, engrossing him in a conversation. Namjoon excuses himself to the bathroom, needing a bit of breathing room. 

Once alone, he takes in his appearance. Blonde hair slicked back from his forehead, eyes a bit red from the drugs and alcohol, cheeks flushed. He touches the fresh bruises on his neck, purple against his tanned skin and it’s been awhile since he’s been marked up like this. The thought of who marked him up doesn’t help the heat pooling in his stomach. 

There’s a gentle knock on the door about five minutes later and Namjoon expects Jimin, maybe Seokjin behind it. Not Yoongi. He slips in like it’s nothing, phone still in hand. 

“Are you okay?” It’s out of his mouth before he knows it. He’s brought back to when they were together and Yoongi would get overwhelmed after awhile of being in big crowds in the club that he would go find solace in the bathroom. Yoongi looks surprised at his question but it quickly morphs into a smile. 

“I should be asking you that. You’ve been in here awhile.”

Namjoon shrugs non committedly. “Just needed a moment.”

Yoongi’s hands find the hem of his shirt and he plays with it. “Is it me?”

It’s always you. He wants to say but he shakes his head instead. 

Yoongi smiles small at that, fingers still playing with the cloth like it’s the most interesting thing ever. When he looks up again, his eyes are on his lips. The heat in his stomach flares again as his own eyes fall to Yoongi’s slick lips that are pinker than when he last looked at them. This time he doesn’t stop himself from leaning in. Yoongi’s eyes close before his lips even touch his and when they do, he’s sighing quietly like it’s all he ever wanted. It makes Namjoon’s heart clench. 

“Is that what you wanted?” Namjoon murmurs against his lips, not really expecting an answer. 

Yoongi’s lips meet his again desperately. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Yeah?” His lips can’t seem to stay away from Yoongi’s for longer than a second and he feels like an addict. Doing anything he can to have one taste. “I am okay. More than okay.” 

Yoongi chuckles breathlessly. “I can see that.” Then he’s kissing Namjoon again, tongue poking at his bottom lip until he opens up. 

It should scare him, as he’s previously thought before, how easy it is to welcome Yoongi’s touch after so long. How he doesn’t shy away from his kisses or his touches when he’s usually not big on it if it isn’t coming from his small group of friends. 

He’s brought back to reality when he feels Yoongi’s hand on his hip, sneaking under his loose pants. Namjoon pulls away, watching the elder who’s got his lip between his teeth, looking smug. Namjoon leans his head against the wall with his lips parted and eyes half lidded. He’s giving him free reign and Yoongi realizes this, slowly pushing his pants down until they pool around his ankles. 

“I thought you just wanted to make sure I was okay,” he hisses when Yoongi grabs a hold of his cock, half hard from their kissing. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling. “Wanted to suck you off more though.” He admits, falling to his knees.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Yoongi’s lips leaving fleeting kisses on his thighs. “Hyung, the others…” 

Yoongi suckles on his tip like a lollipop and Namjoon has to swallow hard, to not whine out loud. “They’re all high and drunk. They didn’t even notice me following you here.” 

Any other weak protests that Namjoon has at the tip of his tongue is swallowed down when Yoongi takes him down in one go and he’s always been good at controlling his gag reflex but what the fuck. 

Yoongi’s tongue is tracing the underside of his cock every time he bobs his head, paying extra attention to the swollen head on his way up. Namjoon’s thighs tremble with the urge to fuck up into his mouth but he refrains and relaxes when Yoongi looks up at him with watery eyes with a gentle hand on his thigh with the phases of the moon etched onto his skin. 

With his eyes still on Namjoon, he hums around his cock, closing his eyes for a brief second when he reaches a hand to tangle his fingers in his hair. He allows himself to be pushed further, swallowing around him that Namjoon shakes and whines. 

“Hyung,” he breathes shakily. Yoongi’s eyes twinkle as Namjoon looks down at him and he looks sinful with his lips stretched around his cock, cheeks flushed and he pulls away with a pop, a string of spit connecting his lips to his cock and Namjoon watches helplessly as Yoongi breaks it with his tongue. “Yoongi hyung,”

Yoongi slowly pumps him in his hand, tongue flicking at the head again. “Good?” Namjoon nods. “Are you gonna give me your come?”

“Fuck,” his head bangs against the wall behind him as his stomach drops. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not?” Yoongi pouts but Namjoon knows better, sees the mirth in his eyes. “Indulge me.”

“You’re such a cockslut,” he grits out, closing his eyes when Yoongi swallows him down again. He doesn’t respond but he feels the hum around him which is enough to answer. 

Yoongi moves quicker then. Swallowing around his cock and raising a hand to fondle his balls. Namjoon’s hand tightens in his hair, chest heaving with his low whines. He wants to look away, the visual proven too much when he feels his cock twitch in the elder’s mouth. He feels the cool press of Yoongi’s rings on his fingers every time he pumps whatever he can’t fit in his mouth and he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Hyung, I’m gonna come —“

And Yoongi just… sticks his tongue out with the head of his cock slapping on it, looking up with wide eyes like a kitten waiting for its milk. Then he murmurs, “come on. Give it to me, Joon.”

Namjoon trembles as he comes, watching desperately how Yoongi takes the head of his cock in his mouth again, swallowing the hot ropes. He moans with his eyes closed, milking him dry and Namjoon’s moans turn into whines when he becomes oversensitive. 

Yoongi looks pleased as he licks his lips and Namjoon can’t stop himself, pulls him up to his lips and moans at the taste of himself on his tongue. Yoongi’s hand grips the back of his neck, cold rings pressing to his skin that Namjoon shivers, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls away. 

“Hyung, you’re so…” Namjoon starts saying, stopping at the smirk on his face. He looks so fucked out. “God.”

“You taste good.” He says like it's nothing. Like it wouldn’t make Namjoon want to fuck him stupid over the sink. 

Namjoon groans, pulling up his boxers and his pants. He walks to the door, expecting Yoongi to follow so when he doesn’t he shoots a confused look over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”

Yoongi’s eyes are dark as he looks at him, sliding a hand down his chest from where he leans against the wall Namjoon just was against. “You go ahead.” Then he smiles, “unless you want to watch.”

Namjoon flushes, walking out of there before he stays locked in there with him for the rest of the night. The room is smoky when he finally returns to join his friends. Jimin looks up when he sees him, looking hazy and he just giggles like Namjoon is the funniest thing he’s ever seen. Maybe he is with his cheeks flushed and eyes wide. 

Jungkook looks up at him then, smirking. “You guys are so obvious.”

Just when Namjoon thought he couldn’t get any more red. 

Hoseok shoots him a deadpan look while Seokjin chuckles. “You were in there for twenty minutes.” When Namjoon opens his mouth to speak, he continues. “Was it good?”

“Gross, I don’t want to hear about that, hyung.” Hoseok groans from Seokjin’s lap and Namjoon thinks he has no right when he’s there like a lovesick puppy. 

Just to spite him, he says: “I forgot how good his mouth was.”

Hoseok cries out dramatically while the others fall into a mixture of giggles and whoops before Namjoon tries to quiet them down because Yoongi is still in the bathroom dammit and these walls are not soundproof. 

Eventually they all quiet down and Taehyung is looking at him in some sort of loving awe. “Joonie-hyung,” he says so softly after moments pass and Namjoon looks at him with a smile when he sees how hazy he looks. “You can’t be that dense to know Yoongi-hyung loves you.”

Namjoon’s heart flutters and he looks at Yoongi who still looks flushed, as he walks down the hall from the bathroom. He’s talking with Hoseok now, a soft melody playing between them and Hoseok’s eyebrows are furrowed as he bobs his head to the beat. 

He’s only had a few encounters with him since he’s been back in his life (is that okay for him to say now?) and all he’s ever felt is a wave of calm, the same way he used to feel when they were together. A sense of serenity whenever he’s near even with what they’re doing and even though Namjoon knows it can’t possibly end well, cause when does it ever, these friends with benefits situations… he can’t stop himself from having him for a moment just before he slips between his fingers again. 

“I don’t know, Tae.” He replies honestly, breath stuttering when Yoongi meets his eyes again. There’s something in his gaze, something that makes hope bloom at the pit of his chest. “We’ll see though.”

So that’s how it starts, their little situationship, as Jungkook chuckled the other day with his boyfriends laughing along. Whatever, he hates them. 

Much to popular belief, nothing really changes between them. They still hang out, still listen to each other's beats. If it involves stopping in between to have his head between Yoongi’s thighs with the elder’s fingers in his hair or Namjoon on top as he fucks him raw then so be it. 

Namjoon is over the moon and his friends are always casting him worrying glances whenever he slips away with Yoongi whenever they’re all together and he always comes back flushed and on cloud nine — he really has no complaints. 

Except when it’s late at night and Yoongi has either left or he retreats back to his own place the ugly feeling of loneliness sets in, wondering why he can’t have Yoongi the way he wants to. Admittedly, he is the only one stopping himself. Him and his thoughts, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. 

They have a silent agreement, they don’t stay the night. 

So he gets used to waking up alone when he was warm just the night prior with Yoongi’s softer and smaller body next to him. He never hears him leave but he always feels it when he’s awake. 

Today finds him in Yoongi’s studio on the second floor of the nightclub he occupies. He’s listening to Yoongi recording background vocals for one of his tracks for a mixtape he’s producing. Namjoon had almost had his eyes pop out of his socket when Yoongi had asked, shyly, if he wanted to be a feature. 

He agreed of course, and now he was regretting it now that he heard the lyrics. They are sensual, flirty, and he’s never heard Yoongi produce a track like this, not even during their time together. He feels the flutter in his heart whenever he meets his eyes on a particular lyric or when he hears the drop of his voice when he raps, edging close to a growl. 

Namjoon is left in a daze when Yoongi steps out, drinking from his bottle of water. He hungrily drags his gaze down his throat to where the bruises he left are fading and his mouth aches to revive the marks. But they haven’t done anything in the last week. Namjoon wants to ask but Yoongi doesn’t owe him anything, let alone his body. 

Yoongi motions for him to go in and he does nervously because it’s been awhile since he’s recorded himself doing anything other than background vocals or sounds for certain tracks or artists — but if Yoongi believes in him it’s worth a shot at trying. 

He puts the headphones on and takes a look at the lyrics in front of him. It sounds like a back and forth between two lovers about holding onto each other in many ways, more intimate than most. He swallows, waits for Yoongi who’s playing around with the switchboard until he gives him a thumbs up and the music plays. 

Now Namjoon tries really hard to not make eye contact with Yoongi while rapping, he really does, but he can only take the burn on the side of his face for so long. Eventually he relents, meeting the other boy’s eyes. 

Boy, Yoongi does not disappoint with his reactions. His eyes are still dark, hand occasionally brushing his black strands back, his lips are bitten red and Namjoon thinks he has some sort of oral fixation. He’s mouthing the lyrics along with Namjoon as he raps but his eyes stay on him and he looks hungry — almost predatory. 

Namjoon tries not to think about it, his only priority is to make it out of this recording without any issues. 

He does it with flying colors and Yoongi is clapping as he walks into the sound booth. Namjoon catches the bottle he throws at him, gratefully taking a swig of the water. 

“You still sound good,” Yoongi tells him as Namjoon takes off the headphones. 

“And your pen is still as good as it was. If not better.” Namjoon returns the compliment and Yoongi takes it with blushing cheeks. 

He expects Yoongi to dismiss them, possibly even offer to go out for drinks like he so often does after they hang out in the late hours here but he doesn’t. He just stands there looking at Namjoon from between his lashes. He’s associated the looks Yoongi gives him with certain things. There’s the look he gets when he says something stupid that Yoongi can’t help but laugh with glittering eyes. The one where he says something a little intimate, too close to home after they’ve fucked orgasms out of each other and he looks at him with so many unsaid words that are dying to be let out.

Then there’s the look he’s giving him now. Dark eyes, spit slicked lips and he looks just as Namjoon feels. Hungry. 

Namjoon licks his lips. “Hyung.”

Yoongi barely acknowledges him, stepping closer until his arms wind around Namjoon’s middle and he only looks up when he calls him again. “Hm?”

“Is there something you want?” It’s meant to come out sultry but it comes out shaky, as overwhelmed as he feels. 

“You.” Is the quiet reply that follows with a soft kiss to his neck right where a fading bruise he left on Namjoon is. 

He figures if Yoongi has it in him to be honest, he should too. “You have me,” he whispers, “always did.”

Yoongi makes a broken little sound from the back of his throat and Namjoon really commends him for his self control. He’s a breath away from his lips, eyes going hazy as Namjoon tongue pokes out to wet them. He slides his fingers into his dark strands, pulling his head back. Yoongi’s mouth falls open with a breathless moan, a little smile playing at his lips. “Finally gonna do something about it?”

Namjoon kisses down his neck, lips covering over a hickey and he sucks it back to life, maybe biting a little too hard as punishment but his tongue soothes it right after. “What do you mean?”

“I-it’s been a week —“ Yoongi stutters as Namjoon pushes him against the wall, thigh coming between his legs. He’s wearing these ripped jeans that are loose at his hips and they’ve been driving Namjoon crazy all evening. 

Namjoon chuckles, lips still on his neck. The hand in his hair pulls his head to the side and he bites down on his collarbone, groaning when Yoongi’s voice cracks on a moan. “Miss my cock that much?”

Yoongi grips at Namjoon’s neck and his mind blanks, just for a moment, and Yoongi just smirks like he knows. “Shut up,” he gets out eventually, hips slowly rocking down on Namjoon’s thigh, “was waiting for you to do something about it —“

Namjoon takes his middle and ring finger into his mouth, tongue grazing the rings that he wears. He sucks them until they’re soaked, enjoying the way Yoongi’s hips stutter and his mouth drops open. “I’m doing something now, aren’t I?”

“Not really,” Yoongi grits out when Namjoon’s hands leave his hair and grip his slim waist instead. He squeezes, lips meeting Yoongi’s wet and hot. 

“Don’t be bratty.” He warns against his lips. Yoongi just giggles softly. 

“Fuck me.” Yoongi demands, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Namjoon’s neck and he nearly falters, but he stands strong. He grips his wrists, locking a hand around them and pins them to the wall. Yoongi moans, lips opening for Namjoon who just sucks and bites at his bottom lip. “Please —“

“Already?” Namjoon laughs darkly, stomach churning. “Barely did anything.”

“Then do something,” Yoongi bites back, head thrown back and Namjoon’s control is already slipping through his fingers and having him here, neck bared with purple blooming at his collarbones… 

His other hand words at the elder’s jeans, pushing them down his legs with his boxers and Yoongi kicks them off when they reach his ankles. Namjoon’s hand works its way between his asscheeks and is only half surprised when it’s slicked with lube. “Literally waiting for it, huh?”

Yoongi has the decency to blush. “Shut up. God, you talk so much.”

Namjoon laughs, dimples adorning his cheeks and Yoongi just smiles, awed. He tries not to look into it too much. He slips a finger in, then another. Yoongi opens up beautifully, barely resisting when he slides in a third finger. His moans are pretty. Low and needy but when he hits the right spot they grow higher in pitch. Each sound heads straight to Namjoon’s cock. 

He lets go of his wrists and Yoongi is quick to grip the back of his neck to kiss him. His lips are moving quick against his, tongue poking at his lips until Namjoon lets him suck on his tongue, groaning when he throws his head back again. 

Yoongi starts bucking his hips down to Namjoon’s fingers and he just leaves them there unmoving, allowing the elder to ride them. It’s a sight, truly. The parts of his body he can see, they never really get all of their clothes off, is flushed pink. The hickeys Namjoon left look angry, red at the surface but some already bruising purple. His lips are wet with spit, red from Namjoon’s biting and he’s gripping his own hair like he’s distraught from the pleasure. He feels Yoongi’s hands on his pants next, pulling them down until he takes out his cock and Namjoon hisses. 

“Fuck me,” he pumps Namjoon at the time of his words. 

Namjoon slides his fingers out, gripping both of his thighs until he wraps legs around his waist and Namjoon is picking him up, back pinned against the wall. 

Yoongi looks so far gone from that one action. “You got… so much stronger.”

God, he sounds so breathless. Namjoon wants to ruin him. 

“Yeah, hyung?” He teases, a hand reaching down to grip his cock and he playfully slaps the head to his puckering hole while Yoongi whines. “I’m going to fuck you against this wall until you’re fucked dry.” 

“Joon,” Yoongi breathes. “Please, fuck me — ah—“

“Tight.” Namjoon groans, hands gripping his ass as he slips in and he enjoys the way Yoongi has to grip at him for purchase, legs tightening around his waist. “Tight little ass, fuck.” 

“S big,” Yoongi slurs, voice caught in a moan and he sounds like he’s smiling. “You’re so big, feels like I’m being split open —“

Namjoon moans into his neck, licking up to his ear as he starts thrusting into him. “You like it when it hurts, right?” He asks tauntingly as he fucks up into him, hands spreading his cheeks until he really is open for him. 

Yoongi moans loudly, fingers gripping the back of Namjoon’s shirt as he leans forward to bite at his neck. He’s crying out at every jab to his prostate, teeth sinking into his skin. 

“Hyung,” Namjoon moans, “fuck, baby.” 

He hadn’t meant to say it, barely noticed he did until he feels Yoongi clench around him, thighs trembling around his waist. Namjoon grips them, slowing his hips down to a grind as Yoongi lets out these low ah ah’s from his open lips. 

“Again,” he says and Namjoon is confused for a brief moment until he adds, “call me that again.”

“Baby.” He says, breathing the word like a secret into his skin and he swears he feels his own eyes burning. “You’re so good. Feel so good around me.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, clenching down again and Namjoon swears, fucking up into him again until his balls slap against his ass. “Yes, fuck me, Joon - a-ah — want it, want your come —“

“You’re so dirty,” he moans again, pulling Yoongi down on his cock and he sounds like he’s choking out the moans that are coming from his chest. Then he feels a possessive curl in his chest as he groans out, “just for me though, right?”

Yoongi looks dazed as Namjoon reaches a hand to his throat, gently squeezing. “Y-Yeah.”

“Say it.” He demands, squeezing again and Yoongi hisses, cock twitching between their bodies. 

“Just for you.” He whispers out, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Fuck me so good.”

Namjoon grips onto his thighs again and Yoongi legs tighten as much as he can get them to as Namjoon fucks up into him faster. Yoongi is bent forward, crying into Namjoon’s shoulder as his teeth sink into his collarbone again. His fingers grip the cloth of Namjoon’s shirt so tight he thinks it might tear but that’s the least of his worries. Yoongi’s thighs are trembling and his voice is taking the high pitched lilt when he’s about to come and Namjoon wants to ride off that high with him. Wants them both to fall together today. 

Yoongi pulls back and Namjoon moans at the tears leaking past his closed eyes, little mouth dropped open. “Pretty.” He says and Yoongi sniffles, opening his eyes. “So fucking pretty.”

He smiles, leaning forward to kiss him and it’s softer this time, not like the other kisses they’ve shared. This borders the intimacy that they silently agreed not to share. However Namjoon already broke that earlier when he called him baby. Only further worsened it by his possessive streak but Yoongi is just giving and giving. Who is he not to take?

“Gonna come,” he moans out against Namjoon’s lips and the other just grips his ass again, spreading his cheeks open again. “Fuck. You’re going to make me come —“

“Do it,” Namjoon heaves, chest tightening as Yoongi clenches around him. “Make a mess, baby.” 

He feels it rather than sees it when he comes. He goes silent, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as hot roped paint their fronts. He’s clenching so hard around Namjoon that his hips stutter, letting out a low whine as he pulses, grinding slowly until he comes, Yoongi shivering when he feels it. 

The air is heavy, the weight of their words settling in as they catch their breaths. Yoongi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even remotely act any different but it’s in his eyes. They were always an open book. Once so open but now guarded as he stares into Namjoon’s eyes. 

They clean up in silence and Yoongi still doesn’t dismiss him, but the way he picks up a glass of whiskey only to down it a second later, tells him all he needs to know. 

Namjoon falls asleep in Yoongi’s studio but he wakes up alone. Not a text or a note and that’s how he knows he’s fucked up. 

“I did tell you it’s never a good idea to fuck your exes.” Seokjin deadpans as Namjoon pouts. 

“This is so not the time for that, hyung.” Jimin hits him softly and the elder just whines. “I told you to talk to him first, Joonie-hyung.”

“In my defense, I did try.” He argues weakly, but it is the truth. “The first time it happened. I said we should talk.”

“Did you?” Hoseok asks. Taehyung and Jungkook are behind them, eyes wide with concern. 

“Kind of?” Namjoon grimaces at the look on his friend’s faces. 

“That’s not an answer, hyungie.” Jungkook pouts and if this was any other situation he would’ve thought it was cute. “Communication is important.”

“He said he didn’t want to talk at first and I told him we should, that I didn’t want to hurt him. He had just said what if it’s a thing, whatever the fuck that means.” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. He would never admit the effect Yoongi’s absence had on him, not out loud. He’s sure his friends know anyway. 

They all frown. Jimin breaks the silence first. “Have you heard from him?”

“Not since he disappeared on the weekend.” He sighs. “Have any of you?” They all shake their heads. “I’m sorry.” He feels arms being wrapped around him and he realizes it’s Taehyung, his floral scent giving him away. He almost cries, almost. Instead he just leans into the touch. 

“Don’t apologize, hyung.” Taehyung whispers, heart breaking at the little sniffle the elder lets out. “You have to talk to him.”

“I want to,” Namjoon pulls away. “But he isn’t answering any of my texts.”

“He did lay his heart out to you the last time you had sex, right?” Jungkook asks. “It sounded that way, anyway.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way but looking back, it’s probably the truth. The air had been heavier that day, the words they said edged too close to home for it to be chalked up to lust and he knows that. If he thinks long enough he can still hear himself telling Yoongi to admit it in the throes of lust. But Namjoon had never been good at reading between the lines, only really good at showing his feelings through affection and words. He had been dense back then and is still dense now it seems. 

“I didn’t think of it like that.” He admits shamefully. “But he knows I’m not good at interpreting things…”

“Maybe he thought you’d try?” Hoseok reasons. “He’s not a stranger, Joon. You’ve known each other for years and before you say it’s been awhile, sure, but things haven’t really changed besides your relationship status, right?” Namjoon’s head hangs low. “I’m just saying it could be harder for him because whether you like to hear it or not, you did break up with him back then. Not the other way around.”

Namjoon knows he needs to hear it but god does he hate it. Because it’s true, it’s nothing but the truth and to think he’s the one putting them through more pain because he can’t give what Yoongi has been trying to probe out of him since this started. 

Namjoon sighs and it weighs on him like a weight he can’t lift. It hurts to breathe, even more so when he looks at his delivered but unread texts to Yoongi. The last message from him being a measly come over. 

“I have to talk to him.” He says and his friends nod their heads silently. 

It borders on a week when Namjoon has had enough of radio silence. 

He barges into Yoongi’s studio and the elder is looking at him wide eyed with a joint in his hand and he recognizes the melody playing as the track he featured on and he falters, almost at least. Yoongi silently turns off the music, ashing the joint to the side. 

“It’s been a week.”

Yoongi looks unaffected but Namjoon again, knows better. He can see the tense look in his eyes, the way his hands grip the arms of the chair. “I know.”

“Were you ever going to answer my texts?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything at first, biting at the corner of his lip and Namjoon knows that’s something he does when he’s nervous. “Eventually.”

Namjoon laughs, like actually laughs and there’s nothing even remotely funny about the situation but of course he would get himself into this mess. All because he gave into his selfish desires. “Okay, hyung.” He turns to leave because the pain in his heart is not worth it when he hears Yoongi shuffle. 

“That’s your solution? To leave?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Namjoon snaps back, not meaning to sound as aggressive as it comes out but he can’t help it. “I texted you. I tried talking to you. You ignored me.”

Yoongi winces at the harshness of his voice. “It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it is, hyung. ‘Cause to me, it seems like you didn’t want whatever this is anymore and you left. You disappeared that night and it killed me. It always does when you leave.”

“I put everything out, Joon. And you still don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” He sounds pleading, wanting, itching to reach out to hold him. He hates seeing Yoongi so distressed. 

Yoongi runs a hand through his long hair, refusing to meet his eyes and Namjoon thinks this is the time where Yoongi tells him to leave and never see him again. The time where he loses the elder a second time over something so stupid. But eventually, he looks up again with glassy eyes, they’re tinted pink. “I’ve been putting my heart out on a silver platter since I saw you that night with our friends. I’ve been dropping hints, I’ve been so obvious and you still don’t see it.”

The hopeful side of him lights up at his words but the logical side of him breaks at the same time and that leaves Namjoon gaping like a fish at the elder. “You —“

“You would think that after everything, you’d know.” Yoongi chuckles, a bit sadly. “It was never just a thing. It’s me and you.”

“But, hyung —“ Namjoon’s voice cracks. “I’m not good at reading between the lines, you know that.”

Yoongi nods solemnly. “I do, but I thought you’d at least try for me.” He shrugs and Namjoon’s heart breaks. “It’s hard putting out a lot when you were the one broken up with to begin with.”

It comes out quiet but Namjoon hears him loud and clear. Guilt floods his chest and it almost chokes him as he swallows hard. His whole body is tense with the itch to reach out and touch Yoongi, to hold him and tell him everything he’s ever wanted to tell him since he left. But does Namjoon deserve that now? Even after everything he’s put him through?

There’s a universe where they probably don’t belong together. Where their story ends where Namjoon left it with Yoongi crying at his doorstep as he kissed him goodbye. There’s a universe where they never see each other again but he doesn’t want it to be this one — it can’t be this one. 

The words of his friends echo in his mind and he feels his eyes burn with the unshed tears he’s holding. He still holds them back, feeling like he doesn’t deserve to shed a tear at this moment when he’s the one that caused this much pain. 

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” Namjoon admits quietly, control faltering when Yoongi’s watery eyes go wide and a tear slips past one. “I’ve never stopped missing you. It never stopped hurting.”

“Then… why?” Yoongi gets up and he takes one, two steps closer to him. “I said I understood but… I never did. If we were good together, then why?”

Namjoon gulps, wiping a stray tear and he still doesn’t have the guts to look at him again. “You were going places. I wasn’t.” He explains weakly. “I didn’t want you to feel held back and then resent me for it in the long run. You know, like in the movies.”

Yoongi lets out a surprised little laugh and it gets a smile out of Namjoon. “You’re such an idiot, Joon. I could never hate you. I don’t know how true your statement is and if you felt that way, I have no right to tell you if it’s right or wrong but you should’ve talked to me.” Yoongi walks further until he’s right in front of him. “It’s unfair of you to take the choice away from me.”

“That’s what Jimin said.”

“Jiminie has always been smart, hasn’t he?” Yoongi ponders, finally reaching out to grab one of his larger hands. Namjoon likes the contrast of his pale skin against his tanned skin.  “Should’ve listened.”

“I was too busy being heartbroken.” He pouts and Yoongi reaches up to wipe his eyes. He feels his eyes go brighter as he takes in the elder. Dark wide eyes looking up at him in wonder, black hair pushed back from his forehead, glittering rings on his fingers. He feels his heart constrict in his chest just looking at him. “Does this mean — are we?”

Yoongi leaves a gentle kiss on his lips, but doesn’t pull away fully. “I want that.” 

And Namjoon just melts, pulling him in by his waist to kiss him properly. He pours all his love into the one kiss hoping Yoongi can feel it. He thinks the way Yoongi’s arms wrap around his neck to pull him even closer tells him he feels it all the same. 

“Do you think they notice we’re staring at them?” Hoseok shouts over the loud music of the club. Namjoon and Yoongi are at the bar, giggling like teens in love. It makes him smile. 

Seokjin sips his cocktail. “No. They never do.”

Jimin giggles along with Jungkook who are just watching fondly. “Leave them. They’re cute. I missed them.”

“Same.” Taehyung agrees, watching how Yoongi grabs Namjoon’s hand just to hold. Even from here he can see the flush on the other’s cheeks. “I’m happy if they’re happy.”

From the smiles on their faces they all agree that they’re happy. 

Yoongi giggles as Namjoon presses him to the door after it’s closed to his apartment. It breaks off into a moan when Namjoon bites down on his neck, licking his tongue over the skin. 

They’re drunk off of love and happiness, there’s a bit of alcohol involved too, but it’s mostly just them relearning each other. Taking each other apart to put themselves back together again. 

The air is different between them. Not tense but it’s heavy with anticipation. Namjoon’s hands are gentle on Yoongi’s body, not hard and bruising like other times. Yoongi is kissing him like it’s the only thing he knows how to do and Namjoon meets desperation with the same amount. His tongue is licking into his mouth, Yoongi’s mouth dropping open as his chest heaves and it’s dirty the way Namjoon bites at his lip, sucking it into his mouth. 

Yoongi’s eyes are dark when he pulls back and his thin lips are kissed red. He looks angelic even though what they’re about to do is anything but. His eyes sparkle in the dark when he speaks softly. “You good?”

Namjoon breathes in, out. Leaning his head on his shoulder, he grips his waist in his hands. He’s trying to convince himself this is real, he realizes, not a fragment of his imagination. 

One of Yoongi’s hands tangles in his hair, gently pulling his head back. He looks as overwhelmed as Namjoon feels and he wonders if the three words are at the tip of his tongue too. 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just kisses him softly. Like he’s glass and could break at any second and if he keeps touching Namjoon like this he just might crack against his fingers. 

They eventually make it to Namjoon’s room, hands leaving heated touches on heated skin as they take off each other’s clothes. Yoongi falls beautifully on his dark sheets, the light from the window casting a shadow on his face. His eyes are twinkling with adoration when he pulls Namjoon on top of him, legs wrapping around his waist. Namjoon’s hand grips the thigh with the stars along the skin, hissing when their naked cocks touch. The elder lifts his arms, hands gripping the sheets above him as he arches his back to grind up to Namjoon’s gentle movements. 

“Hyung,” he says, awed. 

Yoongi smiles, mouth open just a bit as he pants. “You feel good.”

Namjoon hums, sliding his other hand up to his hip, moving him just a tad faster. “You always do.”

Yoongi bites his lip at that, eyes focusing on his lips and Namjoon goes easily. 

The kiss is wet and messy, but slow and sensual. His hips are still moving to grind down on Yoongi’s cock and he feels how wet he is, how wet he is too. It drives him crazy. 

Yoongi’s mouth opens on a moan when Namjoon brings the hand that was on his hip down to their cocks to pump them together. He feels the way the elder’s body trembles, breath coming out shaky as he returns Namjoon’s kisses. This time he doesn’t protest to Namjoon grabbing the bottle of lube to prep him. His thighs fall open prettily like a gift being offered to him and Namjoon licks his lips, eyes half lidded. 

Yoongi lays there pilantly as Namjoon slips a finger in his hole. It clenches around his digit and Namjoon wiggles it around just to see the way Yoongi’s stomach clenches. 

“Tight,” he murmurs, voice deep and Yoongi’s breath comes out short when he slides a second finger, quickening his pace. His own cock twitches at the sounds Yoongi lets out. He sounds so high pitched, higher than Namjoon has ever heard him. He’s still gripping the sheets above him, head thrown back and back arched. 

He groans along with Yoongi when the third finger slides in. He jabs at the soft bundle of nerves, enjoying the way Yoongi’s hand flies to his hair, pulling him up to his face. “Joon,” 

“What is it, baby?” Yoongi smiles at how easily the term of endearment slips past his lips. “You okay?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer with words but rather by pulling him to his lips as he fingers him open and Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow when Yoongi clenches around his fingers, cock jumping against his stomach. “How do you want me?” He asks against his lips. 

Namjoon pulls his fingers out slowly, moving beside him until he can maneuver his body to his side, pulling Yoongi towards him so his chest is against his back. This way, Yoongi has to grip Namjoon’s arms around him and he can have him close. 

Namjoon grips his thigh again, lifting it as far as Yoongi will allow, which is pretty far to his credit. “Your shoulder okay?”

He feels the heat emitting from the elder. “Yeah. Fuck me, please.”

Namjoon guides his cock to his puckered hole, slowly pushing all the way to the hilt and Yoongi lets out this breathless moan as his head falls back against Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon is panting when his balls meet his ass, hand tightening on his thigh. Yoongi just melts against him as he slowly moves his hips and he’s more vocal than usual, letting Namjoon know how good he’s making him feel. 

Yoongi’s breath hitches when Namjoon fucks up hard and he whines lowly, gripping at the arm wrapped around his middle. “Fuck,” 

“Feel good?” His hand slides up to twist a nipple between his fingers and Yoongi hiccups his next moan, voice cracking. “You always feel so good around my cock, hyung. Always so wet and tight for me.”

“Joon,” he turns his head, seeking a kiss which Namjoon gives easily. “H-Harder, please. Want to feel it deeper,” his voice drops to a whisper. “Deep enough to feel in my stomach.”

“H-Hyung,” he cries out, hips thrusting harder so that the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room along with Yoongi’s breathless moans. 

Yoongi smirks, still breathless and he moans quietly when Namjoon’s hand finds purchase on his throat. “God, yes —“

Namjoon’s hand on his thigh moves it so that it’s laying across his hip. The new angle allows to fuck into Yoongi deeper and the way Yoongi jumps when he thrusts is a tell tale sign that he’s hitting his prostate. Namjoon moans lowly when Yoongi clenches around his cock and his stomach is churning deliciously with every thrust into his tight hole. 

“Y-Yeah, just like that,” Yoongi’s eyes close and when Namjoon’s hand tightens around his throat he opens his eyes, mouthing more with watery eyes. 

Namjoon’s stomach drops, hips stuttering and he wants to make it last, milk it for all it’s worth but God he’s close. He tries not to make noises, wanting to hear Yoongi’s desperate pleas and moans even as the tears start falling and against the moonlight coming through the window, they look like a stream of glitter falling from his eyes. 

Namjoon turns his head, a fucked out gaze meeting his. “You’re going to come like this,” he tells him. “Just from my cock. Want you shaking when I’m done.” He kisses down his neck, licking a vein that’s showing from how hard Yoongi’s tensing. 

“Joon I —“ Yoongi murmurs, hiccuping another moan and Namjoon loosens his grip on his throat, cock twitching inside the elder when he breathes for air. “Fuck I—“

He doesn’t have to say it. He can feel it in the way Yoongi’s gripping his arm for dear life, how his eyes are shining with different emotions but the one Namjoon picks up is love. 

“I love you.” Namjoon beats him to it and Yoongi cries openly now, lashes wet with his tears and he’s even drooling a bit, hips moving back against Namjoon’s thrusts. “Missed having you like this, baby.”

And it isn’t the first time they’ve had sex obviously but it’s the first time in years it’s been this intimate, so deeply engrossed in each other that they don’t want to let go even as the sweat loosens their grip on each other. 

“Wanna come,” Yoongi says suddenly, voice wrecked to hell. “Gonna make me come —“

Namjoon grazes his cock, chuckles breathlessly when Yoongi whines. “Do it, hyung. Show me how tight you can get.”

“Mm,” Yoongi slurs, head falling back with his mouth open and Namjoon sticks two fingers in it, groaning when Yoongi sucks and grazes his teeth gently along the sides. 

Namjoon feels the wetness of Yoongi’s tears reach his skin, biting down on the skin of his neck when he feels the elder clench repeatedly and his thighs have started trembling in his grip. He holds on tighter, slowing his hips down to a grind with his hips tight against his ass and Yoongi cries out, trying to move from his grip but Namjoon follows and he pins him down. Yoongi helplessly grips at the sheets, back arching with his ass up prettily. Namjoon slaps at it, watching intently how it blooms a bright pink. 

“Why are you moving? Thought you wanted me deep?” He teases with his hips grinding into that sweet spot of his. “Too deep for you?” He watches as one of Yoongi’s hands moves under their bodies. He feels him clench and hears him moan out loud as he grabs one of Namjoon’s hands to move it to his stomach. He feels how with each thrust, the shape of his cock protrudes through the skin and his hips stutter again and he feels his cock pulse. “God, hyung.”

“So deep,” Yoongi slurs, so far gone. “So fucking big — g-gonna come, please —“

“I’m not stopping you, baby.” He murmurs in his ear, other hand tangling in his hair to pull his head up and Yoongi just smirks breathlessly. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Yoongi giggles, this airy little thing. He turns his head and Namjoon meets him halfway, lips pressing wet and hot against his. Yoongi barely has the energy to reciprocate, just opening his mouth to let Namjoon do as he pleases. Right as Namjoon’s hips stutter, Yoongi clenches around him hard. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon groans, both of his hands going to his ass to spread his cheeks as he pulses. “Hyung.”

Yoongi laughs, breathless. “Fill me up. Just like that.”

“God, you’re dirty.” Namjoon hisses, doing what he says and he thrusts through it, feeling Yoongi clench again as he comes. He makes a mess of Namjoon and his sheets, body trembling as he moans shakily, voice fucked out. 

 Namjoon holds Yoongi’s small body up, gently laying him down back on his side with his cock still inside of him. The frown that appeared on Yoongi’s face when he tried to pull out tells him all he needs to know. He runs a comforting hand down his stomach, suddenly feeling apologetic for all the angry bruises he left on him. He kisses the marks softly, smiling when Yoongi makes a pleased sound from the back of his throat. 

Yoongi breaks the silence. “I love you too, you know.”

Namjoon hums. “I know.” And before Yoongi asks he adds, “your eyes are an open book.” He looks at the elder then, chuckling when his cheeks tint pink and he reaches down grip his thigh, tracing the stars on his skin up to the vines decorating his sides. “I like these.”

Yoongi smiles, all teeth as he brushes Namjoon’s hair back from his face. Then he drops a hand to Namjoon’s thigh with the phases of the moon. “I like this.”

“I was hoping you would.” He says with his eyes closed. He feels the gentle press of lips on his forehead. 

Yoongi eventually moves to play some music from his phone that was thrown to the side. Namjoon recognizes the beat before he hears Yoongi’s opening verse and he opens his eyes to Yoongi looking at him with twinkling eyes. He lets Namjoon process, looking a bit nervous before he pinches his side and Namjoon chuckles, nodding along with the beat. 

“It sounds good.”

“Thanks to you.”

Namjoon wrinkles his nose. “You’re gross.”

Yoongi just laughs, hands still in his hair. 

As Namjoon lays there with their song playing and Yoongi’s fingers tracing the moon on his thigh with his own fingers tracing his stars, he thinks together they could make a galaxy.