Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was something about second period that made his skin itch.

Maybe it was the chalk dust smell of the classroom, or the way the windows didn’t open all the way, like even the air wanted out but couldn’t. Namgyu stood in the alley behind the school, collar up, headphones in, tie loose like a noose he hadn’t committed to. He told the homeroom teacher he had a dentist appointment. Didn’t even bother making it believable this time. They stopped checking last semester.

He wasn’t skipping because it was fun. Skipping was survival. The way some people lit cigarettes to stay warm. The way some people ran before they realized they were being chased.

He walked past the chicken shop with the broken sign, cut through the market where they sold knockoff sneakers and too-loud phone cases, let the city swallow him whole. The streets buzzed with the kind of energy that made his chest feel too tight, too alive. Somewhere between the fried oil smell and someone’s awful car speakers, Namgyu felt more like himself than he ever did in those rows of plastic desks.

The city wasn’t even fully awake yet, but the people he hung around never really slept anyway. Namgyu made his way down to the underpass near Hapjeong station. They called it “the cradle”, half as a joke, half because most of the people there had been showing up since they were barely out of middle school. It wasn’t hidden, not really, but no one cared enough to look. That was the point.

Taesun was already there, sitting on a ripped bean bag that someone had probably pissed on at some point, hoodie up, eyelids heavy. He didn’t say hi. He just handed over a plastic bottle full of something syrupy and purple, still cold. Namgyu took it, drank without asking what was in it. "Thought you weren’t coming today," Taesun mumbled.

"Thought I cared about math," Namgyu shot back, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

A few more filtered in, Yoonji, with her patchy bleached hair and fishnet sleeves. Woochan, barely sixteen and already with burn marks down his arm he covered with rubber bracelets. They passed around stuff without names, laced candies, half-vapes, pills with little cartoon faces. Namgyu didn’t take everything. Just enough to keep the noise in his head to a low hum. Just enough to keep from feeling like everything was going to break open again. 

They talked about nothing. Laughed at things that weren’t funny. Pretended none of them were scared. This was the closest thing they had to a safe place: cold concrete, graffiti, and shared silence. He liked it better than school. He liked it better than home. Someone mentioned a party that night, an unofficial showcase at a basement club in Hongdae. Free if you knew the guy running the door. Namgyu made a note of it. Even if he didn’t go, it was something to circle around all day. He leaned back against the wall, knees drawn up, bottle still in his hand, and let the morning pass like that. Not asleep, not awake. Not anything.

Someone’s shitty bluetooth speaker crackled to life just as Namgyu was about to doze off against the concrete wall. A glitchy beat crawled out, followed by a voice, low, abrasive, almost hypnotic in how little it seemed to care whether anyone was listening. “Play me back like reruns, mouth full of smoke and reasons…” Thanos.

Everyone in the underground knew the guy. He had a voice like gravel soaked in gasoline. It was distorted to hell, but Namgyu had heard it before, on YouTube, in phone snippets, echoing off the walls of Hongdae stairwells. It wasn’t even one of his best tracks, but it still hit hard. Not polished. Not safe. Just real.

Taesun clicked his tongue. “Didn’t know people still had this one.”

Someone else muttered, “He might show up tonight.”

“Yeah?” Taesun said, flicking his lighter open. “He owes someone a favor. That club with the red stairs, near the vinyl shop.”

Namgyu didn’t say anything. Just leaned his head back and closed his eyes like he was already bored. But the name stuck to the inside of his skull like static.

By late afternoon, the group had thinned. Most of them were off crashing someone else’s place or chasing some other thrill. Namgyu ended up following Taesun back to his rooftop apartment, accompanied by some of Taesun’s friends, more out of habit than anything else. The place looked worse in daylight, if that was even possible. Clothes draped over broken furniture, ramen cups stacked like trophies, a giant ashtray overflowing onto a magazine from 2008. Namgyu kicked through the mess until he found Taesun’s closet, pulled open the warped wooden door, and started digging. He tried on a shirt with a ripped collar, took it off. Tried a mesh tank, frowned at his reflection, threw it over a chair. The mirror was cracked, perfectly so, like it had been punched once and left that way forever. He stared into it, adjusting his hair with one hand.

By the time golden hour bled into the city, they were all getting ready. Yoonji took it upon herself to fix him up. She was sitting cross-legged on Taesun’s bed, smoking out the window, when she called him over. “Sit down, pretty boy,” she said, flicking ashes into an empty cup.

“No.”

“C’mon.” She insisted.

“No.” he repeated, sharper this time, like the word had teeth. Not loud, but edged. Defensive in a way that didn’t match the situation. Like he was used to saying no just to keep people from getting too close.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh, the kind that sounded more tired than annoyed, then stood and gently tugged him down by the sleeve like she’d done it a hundred times before. “Sit still,” she murmured, more nursing than friendly. She started brushing his hair back with her fingers first, slow and careful, then switched to a wide-toothed comb she’d once stolen from a salon. The movements were rhythmic, practiced, like she was used to fixing broken things, even if they didn’t stay fixed. It felt weirdly gentle. Intimate. He didn’t say anything. Just let her.

From across the room, Taesun raised an eyebrow. “You growing that out on purpose, or are you just trying to join a girl group?”

Namgyu shot him a glare. Yoonji, still combing through a knot, smirked. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous he can’t pull off your bob.” She joked. 

When she pulled out a compact, Namgyu froze. “Don’t,” he muttered. “I’m not a faggot.”

She looked at him for a second, just looked. Not hurt, not mad. Just something unreadable. “You’ve got a black eye. You wanna look like you lost?” she asked. He scoffed, but didn’t stop her. “Just this. Then you can go back to being a toxic little man.” She dabbed the powder lightly under his eye. He flinched once, then stayed still. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said. Namgyu didn’t answer. He just stared at the cracked mirror across the room.

Namgyu smirked, eyes still on the mirror. “That compliment would mean more if it didn't come from a dyke.”

Yoonji smacked the back of his head, not hard, but with enough force to make his hair bounce. “Shut up.”

He chuckled under his breath, then adjusted his collar like it never happened. The bass from someone’s phone speaker was already pulsing. The city outside was starting to breathe fire. The showcase was waiting.

They climbed out the window and settled on the rust-bitten fire escape. The metal creaked under them, but neither cared. Yoonji lit the joint with a stolen lighter shaped like a mini pistol. She took a drag, passed it to Namgyu. He inhaled like he needed it to breathe. Below them, the street blinked, cars, neon lighting the dark night, laughter breaking against concrete. Up here, it was quieter. Not safe, just… less loud. Yoonji stared down at the people moving like pixels. “You ever think about just leaving?” she asked. “Like, walking to the station and getting on a train without telling anyone.”

Namgyu exhaled slowly. “I think about that every day.”

She smiled without looking at him. “Yeah. I figured.” 

There was a long pause. Then he asked, “Were you always like... sure?” She turned to him, confused. He looked embarrassed for once. “About being gay. Or whatever you are.”

Yoonji leaned her head back against the metal rail, chuckling but not mocking him. “Oh. That.” Another pause. The weed made it easier to be honest, but slower to say it. “I think I always knew,” she said eventually. “But I didn’t always want to know. There’s a difference.” Namgyu nodded like he got it. Maybe he did. “I mean… I like girls,” she said. “Not into dudes. I used to pretend I was, for a while. But I never wanted anyone to touch me. Not the way I want girls to.” She turned to look at him. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away. Took another hit, then passed it back, his fingers brushing hers. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Sometimes I think I’m just copying what everyone else does.” Yoonji didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease him. “I mean, I’ve hooked up, I’ve been with chicks, you know?,” he added, like he needed to prove something. “It’s not like I’m a…” He cut himself off.

“You don’t have to finish that sentence,” she said gently. “But do you feel good though?” She paused. “With chicks I mean.”

He looked down at his shoes. They were coming apart at the toe. “I– uhm…” He didn’t exactly know what to say. Sure, he’s had hook-ups. He’s fucked girls, alright? And yeah, maybe it’s always felt more like going through the motions, like a routine, than that mind-blowing, life-altering thing people always talk about. And okay, maybe he’s never actually finished with a girl, had to fake it both times, if he’s being honest. But in his defense, it’s only happened twice. Sex, that is. So maybe he just hasn’t found the right girl yet. That explanation sits easier than the alternative. “I just don’t want to be… confused,” he said finally. “Feels weak.”

Yoonji’s voice was soft. “It’s not. It took me years ‘til I finally figured it out.” He didn’t answer. Just stared out over the city, jaw tight. She let a few seconds pass, then elbowed him lightly. “You’re still toxic, though, gotta figure that out, man.”

He smirked. “And you’re still nosy.” They sat in silence after that. But it wasn’t awkward. Just full.

Eventually, Yoonji stubbed the joint against the metal grating and flicked it down into the alley, watching the ember spiral like a dying star. “We should go,” she said. “Doors are open.”

Namgyu didn’t move right away. He looked out over the city one more time, its sirens, its lights, its lies, and tried to pocket whatever softness he’d just felt before the night could strip it away. 

By the time they slipped back inside and made it to the venue, the place was already pulsing. Underground. Literally. Sweaty walls, sticky floors. The kind of place that smelled like spilled beer and too much perfume. Cigarette smoke curled lazily into flickering neon signs: NO STAGE DIVING, NO BULLSHIT . Namgyu rolled his shoulders like he was shedding a second skin, slipping into that half-bored, half-hyped version of himself that fit better in crowds than quiet. Yoonji peeled off toward someone she knew, but he lingered near the edge, hands in his pockets.

And that’s when he saw him. Just a glimpse, across the room, near the sound booth. Not performing. Not talking. Just watching. Thanos.

Namgyu froze. He wasn’t even sure how he knew it was him, maybe the bright purple hair gave him away. He just knew. Something in the way the guy stood, like he owned gravity. Sharp jaw, half-lit by a flickering blue light, unreadable expression like a closed door. Namgyu stared a little bit too long. Maybe, maybe Thanos looked back. Just a flick of the eyes. Just enough to make something in Namgyu snap open. He looked away first. Rolled his neck. Played it cool. Too cool.

The moment passed, and Namgyu sank back into the moving mass of the venue. Loud voices, louder beats, sweat-slick strangers pressing in from all sides. He found Taesun first, posted up against the wall like he owned the place but couldn’t care less. Namgyu slipped into place beside him, shoulder brushing his. A familiar anchor. He attached himself to his arm. Taesun didn’t even look at him, already used to Namgyu’s clingyness. A minute later, Yoonji emerged from the crowd, her hand low on the waist of some girl in a leather skirt, guiding her like gravity to their booth.

They started drinking, cheap soju poured into sticky plastic cups, flat soda mixing with the buzz. Taesun lit a cigarette and took a drag like he needed it. Then he offered one to Namgyu. He hesitated, then took it without a word. Let the smoke settle in his chest. The bass shook the walls like something was trying to escape from underneath. Somewhere in the back, a DJ was spinning loops sharp enough to bleed. Yoonji downed her drink and clapped her hands once.

“Enough sulking. Come on.”

Namgyu barely had time to blink before she grabbed his wrist, and Taesun’s too, dragging both of them through the crowd toward the dance floor and signaled the girl she was with to follow her. Her grip was cool, commanding, and gave no room for protest. The bodies swallowed them up. Heat. Bass. Breath.

Namgyu didn’t dance, he never really danced, still too sober for it, but he moved. Let the music push him around a little. Let himself stop thinking. Let himself stop watching for the sound booth. Even if he still felt the weight of it. Even if he still felt him there.

The lights stuttered. Blue, red, blue again. The kind that made your chest feel hollow and your brain foggy. Namgyu moved with the beat, eyes half-lidded, sweat dripping down his spine. Taesun bumped shoulders with him, laughing at something Yoonji said. She was dancing with the girl now, spinning her, grinning, alive in that way only Yoonji knew how to be.

Namgyu lit another cigarette just to feel something grounded. He didn’t even want it. Smoke curled from his lips as he leaned against the edge of the dance floor. Then he felt it. A shift. A pull.

He looked up and there he was again. Thanos, still near the sound booth. A different angle this time, lit just barely by some flickering LED strip. Still not dancing. Not talking. Still just watching. Their eyes didn’t meet exactly, but Namgyu swore they almost did.

A hand landed on his back. Taesun. “You good?”

Namgyu blinked. “Yeah.”

“You’re doing that thing again. With your face.”

Namgyu smirked. “What thing?”

“Like you’re trying not to feel something.”

Taesun didn’t wait for an answer, he just handed Namgyu another drink and disappeared into the moving crowd. Namgyu stood there a little longer, thumb dragging over the condensation on the cup. Then he looked back toward the booth. Thanos was gone. Namgyu didn’t know if he imagined the whole thing. But the buzz in his chest was real. Like something was starting. Like something already had.

After a while they returned to the booth. Namgyu stayed close to Yoonji, half-listening to her conversation with the girl she brought. He nursed his drink and let the alcohol burn through the leftover nerves in his chest. He didn’t laugh at their jokes, didn’t join in on whatever gossip they were swapping between sips, but he liked being near it. Another drink. Then another.

He wanted the buzz to hit faster. Wanted the tight coil in his stomach to loosen, his thoughts to slow down enough to stop chewing through themselves. By the fourth cup, the room had started to tilt, just a little. His hands were warm. His face felt light. Everything around him glowed in a way that felt unreal, like a filter laid over his vision.

Then Taesun returned. He slid in beside Namgyu, draped an arm lazily over the back of the seat. “You wanna try something new, dude?” he asked, grinning.

Namgyu blinked. “What?”

Taesun didn’t explain. Just smirked and nodded toward the stairs. “C’mon.”

Namgyu was already too far gone to question it. He just nodded and let Taesun guide him through the crowd, past the bathrooms and up a narrow staircase that led to the second floor, more private, dimmer, walls covered in peeling black paint and blue light strips.

Taesun led him to a corner booth, half-hidden by shadows and smoke. A few people were already there, a guy Namgyu didn’t recognize, tall with bleached hair and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, leaning over the table; a girl with a shaved undercut, legs draped over the edge of the seat, talking with her mouth too close to someone else’s ear.

And then there was Thanos. Seated in the middle of the booth like he belonged there. A girl curled up on his lap, arm slung around his neck, pressing close, too close, but he looked past her like she wasn’t even there. His hand rested on her thigh out of habit, not interest.

His eyes were on Namgyu. Unmoving. Direct. Curious, maybe. But unreadable. Namgyu felt it like static. A tension that wasn’t loud, but immediate. He didn’t break eye contact.

The guy with the bleached hair looked up, grinning when he saw Taesun. “There you are. Thought you bailed.”

Taesun bumped fists with him, casual. “You know me. Had to bring my boy up here.” He jerked his chin toward Namgyu. Namgyu gave a slow nod, only half-present.

The guy pulled a slim case from his jacket and popped it open. A neat row of small, pale pills rested inside, nothing dramatic. Nothing flashy. He pushed it forward with the ease of routine. “Helps smooth things out.” Taesun took one without hesitating, washed it down with whatever was left in his cup.

Namgyu looked down at the pill. He couldn’t feel his hands. He picked it up and swallowed it dry.

The girl on Thanos’s lap leaned in to whisper something in his ear, laughing softly. Thanos didn’t react. His eyes were still on Namgyu. He hadn’t said a word. But the silence felt louder than anything else in the room.

A staff member ducked into the booth, black shirt with the club’s logo, earpiece, and face full of piercings. “Yo, Thanos. You’re up.”

Thanos didn’t respond at first. Just exhaled slowly through his nose, like the world was taking too long. Then, without a word, he shifted beneath the girl on his lap and gave her a slight nudge to move. She pouted, but got off him. He stood, stretched his neck once, and walked off toward the stairs without so much as a glance at Namgyu.

The booth felt colder after that. A couple minutes passed. Quiet, idle chatter. Someone passed Namgyu another drink. The others started filtering out, drawn toward the stage. Eventually only Namgyu was left sitting there until Taesun tugged at his sleeve. “Come on. You’ll want to see this.”

Namgyu followed. He wasn’t sure when the pill started kicking in, only that everything around him was suddenly brighter. The lights weren’t just lights; they shimmered. The music in the background wasn’t just noise, it pulsed through his bones. The crowd didn’t feel suffocating. They felt alive, fluid, part of something bigger. His limbs were light. His chest was warm. His skin buzzed.

And when Thanos stepped on stage, mic in hand, everything snapped into clarity. He moved like the stage was his home and the crowd was irrelevant. No theatrics. Just presence. Controlled chaos. His words spilled like they’d been waiting to be let out all week. Raw, jagged verses delivered low and sharp, every line hitting like a bruise you’d press just to feel it again.

Namgyu stood in the back of the crowd, frozen. People swayed around him. Someone brushed his shoulder. He barely noticed. He couldn’t look away. Minutes passed. Maybe more. The pill blurred time, made every second feel like it stretched and collapsed all at once.

Thanos kept performing. Kept building something invisible and massive with every verse. Namgyu didn’t know why he couldn’t stop watching. Just that he didn’t want to. And then, mid-set, Thanos’s eyes found him. Locked on. The crowd might as well have disappeared.

Call him fucking delusional, straight out of some teenage girl’s fever-dream romance novel or whatever. He could practically hear Yoonji mocking him already. But still, there it was. That look. And something about it felt real. Heavy. Like Thanos was peeling him open from across the room without ever saying a word. And just for a second, it felt like the lyrics weren’t for anyone else: “You don’t dance, but your eyes do. Keep looking. I’ll come to you.”

Namgyu froze for a second, heart stuttering. He didn’t know what the hell was happening, but it felt like the air around him cracked open. And Thanos just kept going.

The air was too thick. Too loud. Too much. Namgyu muttered something to Taesun, an excuse he didn’t bother to make convincing, and slipped out of the crowd. His head felt like it was filled with static, and his heartbeat was out of sync with the music. He pushed through a hallway lined with posters and fluorescent flickers until he found the bathroom. The door creaked shut behind him, muffling everything outside.

He went straight to the sink. Turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto his face. Again. Again. He didn’t even think about the makeup, just wanted to feel something sharp and clear against his skin.

When he finally looked up, the smeared powder under his eye was gone. Yoonji’s careful cover-up washed away in seconds. He blinked at himself in the mirror. Wet hair clinging to his forehead. Red-rimmed eyes. Still flushed. Still dizzy.

What the fuck was that? Why did that mean anything? He didn’t even realize the performance had ended.

The bathroom door creaked open. Footsteps behind him. Someone headed to the urinals. He didn’t think much of it until he caught a glimpse in the mirror, a flash of familiar color. Violet hair. Tall frame. Laid-back posture even now.

Namgyu froze, shoulders stiff, lips parting slightly. Thanos didn’t notice him right away. He finished his business, then moved to the sink beside Namgyu, head down, water running. Only when he finally looked up did his gaze catch Namgyu’s in the mirror. A flicker of surprise passed across his face. Barely there, but real.

They stared at each other for a second, silent, the hum of the fluorescent light loud between them.

Then Thanos tilted his head. “You had that before?” he asked, motioning vaguely toward Namgyu’s bruised eye, one brow raised.

Namgyu felt his face warm, fast. Thank god the lighting in here was shit. He cleared his throat. “Uhm… yeah. A friend of mine covered it but I forgot and… washed my face.”

Thanos chuckled under his breath. It was soft, almost careless. It made something in Namgyu twist and brighten. He hated that. He didn’t even know what it was, but the sound sat too comfortably in his chest.

“Dumb boy,” Thanos muttered, still half-smiling. “You look too young to be in fights.”

Namgyu scoffed, trying to recover his spine. “It’s not like I go around looking for them. People are just assholes.”

Thanos turned off the tap, shaking his hands dry. “Aren’t they.”

Namgyu squinted at him through the mirror. “What do you mean ‘too young’? Did you meet Jesus in person or something? You sound like you did your military service with Moses.”

Thanos let out a short laugh, quiet, through his nose, but real. “Definitely older than you,” he said, rubbing his hands together under the shitty bathroom dryer. “You don’t even look like you got in here with a real ID.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, you know,” Namgyu muttered, arms crossed tight across his chest.

Thanos chuckled under his breath, turning just enough to glance at him. “Didn’t say you were.” A beat. Then, with a lazy half-smile, “But you kinda talk like one.”

Namgyu rolled his eyes. “Wow. Inspiring.”

Thanos shrugged. “Just calling it like I hear it, baby face.”

He didn’t leave. He just leaned back against the sink beside Namgyu, casual, like they weren’t standing in a shitty bathroom post-performance, like this wasn’t weird at all. The silence stretched between them, not awkward, just… waiting. Something in it felt slow and suspended. Namgyu could feel his pulse in his throat. He hated that he didn’t know what to say. Hated more that he didn’t want to leave. He liked Thanos’ presence? He wasn’t sure, he’d just met the guy so he decided to blame whatever he was feeling on the drugs.

“You know,” Thanos started, tone light, “when I first saw you walk in earlier, I legit thought you were a chick.” Namgyu turned his head slowly, unimpressed. Thanos smirked. “Flat, but still. Girl energy. I was surprised when I saw you in this bathroom. Had me double checkin’ the door for a second, my boy.”

Namgyu scoffed, annoyed. “Glad I could rattle your gender expectations.”

Thanos chuckled. “Yeah, well. Didn’t say I minded.” He let the silence sit. “You make it work.”

Namgyu stiffened. Was Thanos hitting on him? He suddenly felt cornered, like he’d walked into something without realizing it. His shoulders tensed, arms dropping stiffly to his sides. His voice came out sharper than he meant. “I’m not–”

Thanos cut in before he could finish. “I know now that you’re not a chick, dude. Chill.”

Namgyu shook his head, jaw clenched. “I wasn’t gonna say that. It’s obvious I’m not. I’m standing in front of you in a men’s bathroom.” He hesitated, then added, lower, “I was gonna say I’m not a fucking fag.”

The words hung in the space between them, ugly and raw, too loud in the quiet bathroom. Thanos didn’t flinch. He just looked at Namgyu for a second, unreadable. Not mad. Not offended. Just… something else. Like he was deciding what to say, if anything at all.

After long and insufferable seconds, Thanos laughed, low and easy. “Damn, I wasn’t hinting at anything, my boy. Relax, you’re way too tense.” He cracked his knuckles and gave Namgyu a sidelong grin. “Come on, let’s go back to my booth. I’ve got a stash you might like, though I can tell we’re already losing you a bit.”

Mind you, Namgyu was really fucking lost, but he wasn’t about to let Thanos know that. “I’m fine, dude. I don’t know what you mean. Let’s go to your fucking booth,” he said, rolling his eyes, trying to sound more casual than he felt.

Back at the booth, it was louder than before but somehow less alive. Some of the others had returned, but it was way less crowded, faces Namgyu didn’t recognize, half-familiar voices laughing too hard, slurred nonsense and clinking bottles. Thanos was back in the middle of it all, leaning into the corner like he owned the shadows. He barely said anything, just nodded here and there, took slow sips from a glass that didn’t leave his hand. But his eyes kept drifting.

Namgyu tried not to notice. Tried not to care. He sank into the edge of the booth next to Yoonji, who had her girl curled up against her, both of them already halfway tuned out. How did they get here anyways? The lights spun too fast. The music felt deeper now, not louder, just closer, like it was inside his skin. He felt hot. A little sick. Way too aware of everything.

Every few minutes, he caught Thanos looking at him. Or thought he did. It was hard to tell. Maybe he imagined the whole bathroom thing. Maybe the guy was just weird. Or high. Or both. He rubbed at his eye. The bruise was starting to throb again under the skin.

Then someone slid into the seat beside him. Older. Confident. Too close. “Didn’t think you were the quiet type,” the guy said, hand already ghosting near Namgyu’s knee. “You’ve got a pretty mouth. Bet you’ve heard that before.”

Namgyu blinked, barely processing. Everything felt like cotton. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Kid.” The voice cut through the haze like a blade. Namgyu turned. Thanos was looking directly at him now, brow raised, tone casual but firm. “I’ve got something for you. Come here.”

The guy next to Namgyu paused, caught the shift in energy, and leaned back slightly. Namgyu didn’t even look at him, just pushed off the seat and stumbled toward Thanos.

He dropped into the space beside him, still a little wobbly. Thanos didn’t say anything right away. Just reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim metal flask, matte black, no label. He unscrewed the top and held it out.

Namgyu hesitated.

“You already look like a ghost,” Thanos said, low, just for him. “Might as well finish the job.” Namgyu scoffed. Took it. Drank. It burned. He didn’t even ask what it was. Thanos leaned closer, voice warm at the edge of his ear. “Good boy.”

Namgyu’s pulse stuttered. He didn’t even know why that landed like it did. But it did.

Thanos watched him for a second, expression unreadable, then tilted his head slightly. “I forgot to ask your name.”

“Namgyu.”

“Namsu?”

“Namgyu,” he said again, firmer this time. His throat still burned from the drink, his stomach turning in a slow, hot spiral. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or Thanos’s eyes on him, but either way, it hit deep. Before Thanos could respond, a voice cut in.

“Yo, Namgyu. You alright?” He turned his head sluggishly. Yoonji was hovering at the edge of the booth, pulling her jacket over her shoulders. The girl she’d been glued to all night stood behind her, already heading for the door. “I’m leaving,” Yoonji said, jerking her chin toward the exit. “I’m sure Taesun’s around. See ya!”

Namgyu blinked, mouth parting like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. She looked at him for half a second longer, then disappeared into the crowd.

Thanos didn’t say anything. Just sat there, elbow resting on the back of the booth, drink lazily cradled in one hand. Namgyu glanced at him, stomach still warm, head a little too light. He didn’t feel like moving.

Namgyu’s stomach turned in slow, heavy waves. At first, he thought it was just the burn of the drink, or the heat of the room, or the way the music pulsed inside his skull. But then the colors started bleeding into each other, too bright, too loud, too much. His hands were clammy. His vision swam. He stood up too fast and stumbled out of the booth without saying a word.

By the time he shoved open the bathroom door, his mouth was already filling with saliva. He barely made it into a stall before dropping to his knees and throwing up, hard, everything he’d taken that night coming back up in a mess of acid and shame. Behind him, the door creaked again.

“Fucking Christ,” Thanos muttered under his breath, somewhere behind him. There was a beat of hesitation, like he wasn’t sure what to do with what he was seeing. “Shoulda known a kid like you wouldn’t stand it. Fuck.”

Namgyu didn’t have the energy to respond, he was too busy retching into the toilet, gripping the edge of the bowl like it could anchor him. Then Thanos stepped inside the stall. No hesitation this time. He crouched behind Namgyu and gently pulled his hair back, gathering the longer strands and holding them out of the way. The touch was… weird. Careful. Almost practiced.

Namgyu felt humiliated. He stayed crouched there for what felt like forever, body trembling, eyes burning, stomach wrung dry. When it was finally over, he slumped against the side of the stall, face flushed, sweat at his temples.

Thanos handed him a few folded sheets of toilet paper, not saying anything. Namgyu took them with shaking fingers, wiped his mouth, and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Thanos leaned back on his heels, resting an elbow on the stall wall. “Don’t sweat it, man. I wasn’t expecting to be babysitting tonight, but… it’s a funny turn of events.” He chuckled, light, not mocking.

Namgyu looked away, face burning even more now. “Why are you still around?”

Thanos shrugged, his voice quieter now. “Dunno, dude. You’re pretty like that. Makes me wanna take care of you.” He paused, then added, more matter-of-fact, “And I don’t really see any of your friends around.”

A gust of cold air hit the bathroom as the door creaked open. Footsteps. Then a pause. Someone muttered, “Yo… you two good in there?” Namgyu didn’t look up. He was still curled near the toilet, body heavy, head pounding. But he felt Thanos shift beside him, barely.

“Mind your business,” Thanos said, calm as anything. The guy laughed awkwardly, said something under his breath, and walked out.

Namgyu groaned, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand. “Great. Now half the club thinks I’m blowing you in a stall.”

Thanos snorted. “You’d be more conscious for that, I hope.”

Namgyu rolled his eyes but didn’t have the energy to clap back. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out with fumbling fingers.

Taesun: you alive, drama queen?

Namgyu stared at the screen for a second. Thanos looked over Namgyu’s shoulder, peeking at his screen and shrugged. “They don’t seem very worried.” He stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Wanna come crash at mine instead?” 

The question landed too casually. Like it wasn’t a big deal. But Namgyu felt it stick in the air between them, heavy and strange. He looked up at Thanos. Eyes bloodshot. Hair a mess. Still nauseous. Still a little high. And still… not sure what the fuck was happening. But he nodded. Once. Slow.

“…Yeah. Okay.”

The ride was quiet for a while. Namgyu sat slouched in the passenger seat, head pressed to the window, the cold glass a relief against his skin. His high was dulling now, leaving behind a strange hollow buzz, like everything had happened too fast and too slow at the same time. Streetlights blurred past. The city looked softer from inside the car, like a painting half-washed out. 

Thanos drove one-handed, window cracked, smoke drifting out into the night. Namgyu broke the silence. “Why are you really taking me to your place? I’m already here, so if you’re gonna kidnap me or whatever, you can just say it.”

Thanos let out a laugh, deep, amused, like it caught him off guard. “No, kid. Didn’t wanna leave you throwing up in a stall, that’s all.”

Namgyu stared at the dashboard lights, then said softly, “I’m not used to people sticking around.”

Thanos shrugged, eyes still on the road. “Maybe you’re not that hard to stick around for.” That quieted Namgyu. Not in a bad way, just… made him think. The silence stretched again, not awkward, just there.

Then Namgyu glanced sideways and asked, “How old are you really?”

Thanos raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look at him. “What? You writing a report?”

Namgyu smirked a little. “I’ll tell you if you tell me first.”

Thanos clicked his tongue, thinking. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine type shit?” He laughed. “Fine. But you can’t back out.” Namgyu nodded. “I’m twenty-eight.”

“Damn,” Namgyu said before he could stop himself. Thanos gave him a slow side-eye. “Sorry,” Namgyu muttered, sinking lower in the seat. He hesitated. Then: “Eighteen.”

Thanos barked a laugh. “Jesus. You’re a fucking baby.”

“Shut up,” Namgyu mumbled, frowning. “Am not.”

Thanos just shook his head, still grinning like he couldn’t believe it. “You’ve got no business being that mouthy at eighteen.”

Namgyu turned toward the window again, face warm. But he didn’t stop smiling.

Thanos pulled up to a narrow building on a side street, tires crunching softly over gravel. The place looked like it had seen better decades, maybe it used to be a studio or an old rooftop apartment. He parked, killed the engine, and glanced at Namgyu without saying anything.

Namgyu raised an eyebrow. “This it?”

Thanos smirked. “Expecting a penthouse?”

“Expecting at least a front door that closes all the way.”

Thanos scoffed. “Talk a lot of shit for someone who just threw up in public.”

Namgyu kicked open the car door with unnecessary flair. “Can’t stop being iconic.”

Thanos shook his head, following him up the short staircase. “Yeah, yeah. Little diva.”

They reached the door, a dented metal thing with peeling paint and stickers half-scraped off. Thanos fished the keys out of his pocket, jiggled them in the lock, then turned to Namgyu with a lopsided grin. “After you, your highness,” he said, holding the door open with an exaggerated bow. “Five-star accommodations, just for you.”

Namgyu rolled his eyes but walked past him anyway. “Wow. Didn’t know royalty got tetanus shots with check-in.”

“Comes with the complimentary trauma,” Thanos replied, letting the door swing shut behind them.

Inside, it was warm but cluttered, old recording gear stacked in the corner, cigarette butts in a chipped mug on the windowsill, a beat-up couch with a few hoodies thrown across it. It smelled like cologne and weed and dust.

Namgyu dropped onto the couch without asking. “This your crib or a crime scene?”

Thanos threw a hoodie at his face. “You’re welcome to sleep in the hallway, brat.”

Namgyu peeled it off slowly, smirking. “You’re so generous. Truly.”

Thanos flicked on a lamp with a busted shade. “Want water or more shit to poison yourself with?”

Namgyu leaned back, arms spread across the couch. “I want to un-die. Got anything for that?”

Thanos disappeared into the kitchen. “A bullet, maybe.”

Thanos came back from the kitchen with a bottle of water and a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He tossed the bottle onto the coffee table without looking, then disappeared into another room. A minute later, he reappeared and flung a blanket and a pair of pajama pants at Namgyu’s face.

“You sleep in those clothes, you’re waking up with regrets,” he said, already halfway across the room. “Shower’s open if you want it, second door on the left.”

Namgyu peeled the fabric off his face slowly. “Do you bring a lot of fucked-up kids home, are you Peter Pan?”

Thanos paused mid-step, then glanced over his shoulder with a lazy grin. “Nope. Just the loud-mouthed ones who look like they need sleep and validation. Easier to get in their pants.” It landed like a joke, but something about it hit weird.

Namgyu blinked. “You’re a fucking creep, man. What the fuck?”

Thanos laughed, full-bodied and unapologetic. “No need to get all flustered, my boy. That’s progress. At least you’re not calling me a fag anymore.”

Namgyu looked away, his face heating up fast. Thanos caught it, of course he did.

He dropped onto the chair across from him, kicking his boots off and getting in a more serious tone. “Look. I don’t usually bring anyone home. Especially not random kids from clubs. But you looked like you were gonna pass out in a bathroom stall, and… whatever, it’s not that deep.” He lit the cigarette. “Just don’t go getting any ideas.”

Namgyu frowned. “I’m not. You’re the one who’s been weird all night.”

“Yeah, well,” Thanos exhaled smoke through his nose. “That was before I found out you’re barely old enough to vote. Now I’m just being decent.”

There was a pause. Namgyu mumbled, almost defensively, “I’m not a virgin, by the way.”

Thanos raised an eyebrow and barked a laugh. “Dude. You don’t need to prove shit to me. Go take a shower and stop being a brat. Guest room’s down the hall.” Namgyu didn’t move right away. He just sat there, cheeks burning, arms crossed, trying to look unaffected. Thanos didn’t press. Just leaned back in his chair, looking like he’d already moved on.

The bathroom light buzzed overhead as Namgyu stepped inside and locked the door behind him. It smelled like old soap and smoke and maybe something lemon-scented, faint under layers of damp towels and mildew. He dropped the borrowed clothes on the closed toilet lid and turned on the water, letting it run until the steam blurred the mirror. He stood there for a second, just staring at himself. His eyes were bloodshot. There was still dried sweat on his neck. The bruise under his eye had started to show through again, dark and ugly. He didn’t look like someone who had it together. Not that he ever really had.

The sound of the shower filled the room, steady, white noise, like static. He stepped in. The hot water hit him hard. First on his shoulders, then down his back. It stung a little. Felt good anyway.

Namgyu pressed his forehead against the tile and let out a long breath. What the hell was he even doing here? He barely knew Thanos. Just a guy from some underground scene. Too old. Too blunt. Too unreadable. But still, there’d been something. A look. A moment. A dozen little things that had gotten under his skin. He didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know if he wanted it to mean anything. And still, his face burned when he remembered Thanos laughing, remembered that teasing look, that stupid comment about being flustered. “ I’m not a virgin, ” he’d said. Like a little kid trying to prove something. God, he wanted to punch himself.

The water ran down his face, over his eyes. He stayed like that for a while, head against the wall, pretending the heat was doing more than just scalding his skin. Pretending it could wash away how off-balance he felt. After a while he stepped out of the shower.

The borrowed pajama pants were loose at the waist. He had to roll them once, then again, just to keep them from slipping. The t-shirt Thanos gave him smelled faintly like weed and detergent, and it was too big in that way that made him feel younger than he wanted to admit.

His hair was still wet when he padded out into the hallway, barefoot, skin warm from the water. The apartment was quieter now. Dim. The music that had been humming through the speakers earlier was gone. He wasn’t sure where to go at first. The hallway had three doors. One cracked open, one closed, and one glowing faintly from inside. He walked toward the living room.

Thanos was there, curled sideways on the couch, long legs propped up on the coffee table, one arm resting behind his head. He was still in his jeans but had ditched his shirt, tattoos on his shoulder and arm barely visible in the low light. He looked half-asleep, but not quite.

He glanced over as Namgyu entered. “Took you long enough,” he said, voice quiet. Rough.

Namgyu stood there awkwardly. “Didn’t realize there was a time limit.”

Thanos smirked, then gestured lazily toward the couch. “Guest room’s the one across the hall. If you’re still dizzy or whatever, you can crash out here. Couch is less haunted.” Namgyu hesitated, then walked in and sat on the far end of the couch, hugging one knee to his chest. He didn’t say anything. Neither did Thanos. For a while, it was just the buzz of the fridge and the soft creak of floorboards under them.

Then Thanos spoke again, softer this time. “You look better.”

Namgyu blinked. “Than what?”

“Than earlier. Bathroom floor you wasn’t really giving model energy.”

Namgyu made a face. “Shut the fuck up.”

Thanos chuckled and let his head rest back against the couch. “Try to sleep, kid.”

Namgyu didn’t argue. Didn’t say goodnight either. Just leaned into the couch cushions, still slightly damp hair, heart tapping way too loud for a night that was supposed to be over.

Next thing he knew, sunlight poured in through the half-closed blinds, catching on floating dust and the edges of empty bottles. Namgyu stirred first. His head was no longer on the couch cushions, but on something solid, warm, and breathing slow. It took him a second to realize where he was.

Thanos was behind him now, stretched out along the couch. One arm draped casually around Namgyu’s waist from behind, hand resting near his hipbone. Namgyu was facing toward the coffee table, frozen in place. They must’ve shifted during the night.

He blinked slowly, disoriented, the flashbacks of last night hitting him like a train: getting high, the bathroom, the flirting, the ride, the way Thanos looked at him, touched his shoulder, tossed him a blanket. The joking. The heat of it all. And now this.

His breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t panic exactly. But something adjacent. A sharp tangle of thoughts. Of what this meant. What it might say about him. What it made him.

For a few seconds, he stayed perfectly still, like if he didn’t move, none of it could be real. Like if he stayed very still this wouldn’t mean anything, like he could disappear from the grasp that kept him glued to the floor, to the reality that he was cuddling with a man, and he liked it. He felt like a thief inside his own body. Like he hadn’t earned the right to feel this kind of closeness without shame clawing at the edges.

But then… There was no one watching. No eyes. No whispers. No threats. No mirror. Just him. Just warmth. And the hand on his waist. The steady breath against the back of his neck. The quiet weight of someone on him. So he let himself feel it. Just for a little longer. The heaviness. The calm. The strange comfort of not needing to pretend he wasn’t starving for something he couldn’t name.

Then Thanos shifted slightly behind him, half-asleep, and his arm moved, pulling Namgyu just a little closer. Tight and possessive. Just enough to feel like he was meant to be there. Namgyu didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just let himself stay.

After a little while Thanos hadn’t moved much, still lying there with one arm slung lazily over Namgyu’s waist now. His eyes were open now, watching the ceiling like it might give him a reason to get up. Namgyu stayed quiet for a minute, pretending not to notice the shift in Thanos’s breathing, the way his hand had gone still. Then he rolled over, slowly, until they were face to face.

Thanos glanced down at him, one brow raised. “You good?”

Namgyu didn’t answer. Not directly. Instead, he reached up and brushed a bit of lint from Thanos’s collarbone, fingers lingering longer than necessary. “I thought you were a heavier sleeper,” Namgyu said, voice quiet, almost teasing.

“Not when there’s someone half-draped across me,” Thanos replied, tone neutral.

Namgyu’s hand didn’t move away. It slid, fingertips tracing lightly over Thanos’s shoulder, then down, slow and deliberate. Testing. Thanos didn’t stop him. But he didn’t lean in either. “Careful,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “You’re not gonna like where this kind of thing goes.”

Namgyu gave a crooked smile. “Maybe I will.”

Thanos exhaled through his nose, clearly trying not to take the bait. “Kid–”

“I’m not a kid,” Namgyu cut in, sharper than he meant to. Another pause.

Thanos shifted slightly on the couch, propping himself up on one elbow. “Right. You’re not.” He looked at Namgyu for a bit too long. “Still… you sure this is something you actually want? Or are you just chasing the first thing that’s not yelling at you?”

Namgyu’s expression flickered, the edge softening for half a second. He didn’t reply right away. His hand flattened against Thanos’s chest, not pressing, not pulling, just there. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just don’t wanna feel like shit for a few minutes. Is that a crime?”

Thanos didn’t answer at first. Then: “No. But sometimes the fix leaves more of a mess than what you started with.”

Namgyu let his hand drop and pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing, not angry, just guarded. “Right. Forget it.”

Thanos caught his wrist before he could move away completely. Not tight. Just enough to keep him from retreating all the way. “I’m not saying don’t touch me,” he said carefully. “I’m just not gonna pretend I’m not thinking this through.”

Namgyu looked at him. Really looked. Then, after a second: “Fine. Think about it. I’ll be in your fucking hoodie, on your couch.” He laid back down, turning away, but didn’t move further than a few inches. Thanos let go of his wrist. Said nothing. But he didn’t move either.

Thanos slowly peeled his hand away from Namgyu’s hip, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stretched, then gave a mock-serious glance while standing up from the couch. “You’re like a temptation sent by Satan himself, you know that?”

Namgyu grinned, eyes glinting mischievously. “Maybe I’m your personal incubus,” he shot back, voice low and teasing.

Thanos sighed, shaking his head like he was trying to fight a losing battle. “Holy shit. Shut up already, please.” His voice was almost a plea. Namgyu laughed softly, leaning back against the couch. Thanos stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna make us breakfast. You can sleep a little more if you want. I’m gonna go change first, I slept in yesterday’s pants.” He gave Namgyu one last look, half amused, half exasperated, before heading toward the bedroom.

Namgyu stared around the living room searching for something to kill time with. He stood up to look around. He didn’t really plan it. He was just wandering. That’s what he told himself anyway, barefoot, dazed, still warm from the couch. The apartment wasn’t big, but it felt endless with how quiet it was. He paused outside the room Thanos had gone into, then pushed the door open like it wasn’t a big deal.

The bed was messy, unmade, exactly how Namgyu expected it to be. He slid under the blankets like he belonged there, curling onto his side and staring at the ceiling. The sheets smelled like Thanos, cologne, weed, and something warm underneath it all. It made him feel weirdly safe. Or maybe stupid. Or both.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open. Thanos stepped out, still drying his hair with a towel draped over his head, another wrapped loosely around his waist. He stopped short when he spotted Namgyu on his bed. Water still clung to his chest, dripping down over the ink lining his ribs. Namgyu’s eyes paused on the lines of Thanos’s abs, lean, cut, like someone who never worked out intentionally but lived hard enough for it to happen anyway. The kind of body that made sense on a stage, under hot lights, in dark corners of the city. 

He swallowed. Tried not to make it obvious that he was staring. Tried harder not to feel something about it. Thanos noticed, of course. The way Namgyu’s gaze lingered a second too long. But he didn’t call it out. Didn’t gloat. Just gave him a small smirk, like he was letting him look. And Namgyu looked. Quietly, shamelessly. Just for another second.

“…Seriously?” Thanos asked, one brow arching.

Namgyu didn’t flinch. “Your bed’s comfier than your couch.” He tried to excuse himself, even if that wasn’t what Thanos meant.

Thanos just shook his head with a breathy, almost amused exhale. “You’re a menace.” But he didn’t tell him to leave. Didn’t pull the blanket off. Didn’t move him.

Thanos didn’t say anything. He just tossed the towel from his head onto a nearby chair and padded across the room toward the closet, his movements lazy, comfortable, like Namgyu wasn’t there watching. Namgyu kept his eyes on him, pretending he wasn’t.

He watched the way the muscles in Thanos’s back shifted as he opened the closet door, the curve of his spine, the way the light from the window caught the trail of water still dripping down to the small of his back, all over his tattoo. It was ridiculous. Like some kind of scene from a music video you’d swear was too staged to be real. Thanos pulled out a plain black t-shirt and some sweats from his closet, nothing that tried too hard. 

Before Namgyu could decide if he was relieved or disappointed, Thanos disappeared back into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him. Namgyu exhaled, staring up at the ceiling again like it might stop his thoughts from racing. But all he could think about was the water trailing down Thanos’s spine. The towel. The tattoos. The way his voice always sounded like it had just woken up.

He dragged a hand over his face. What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn’t supposed to be anything. It wasn’t anything. Just crashing at a guy’s place after a long night. That’s it. Still, he shifted deeper into the sheets, breathing in that faint scent again, Thanos’s scent, and letting it settle something tight in his chest.

From the other side of the door, the sound of the faucet running. Drawers opening. Silence. Then Thanos reemerged, dressed, towel slung over his shoulder, hair still damp but clothes fresh. Namgyu looked up at him and tried to pretend his pulse wasn’t doing something stupid. “You still here?” Thanos asked, one brow raised.

Namgyu shrugged. “Didn’t feel like moving.”

Thanos nodded once. “Cool. I’m making breakfast. Try not to fall in love with my cooking.” He said before disappearing through the door.

Eventually, Namgyu got bored of staring at the ceiling and dragged himself out of the bed, padding barefoot down the short hallway. The smell of something frying led him straight into the kitchen, where Thanos was hunched over the stove, hair still damp, one hand resting on the counter like he owned the world. Namgyu climbed onto the counter without asking, legs swinging slightly as he watched. “Domestic looks weird on you,” he muttered, arms crossed. “Didn’t peg you for the ‘breakfast and caring’ type.”

Thanos glanced over his shoulder, fork in hand. “Don’t get used to it. You just happened to pass out on my couch instead of the street.”

Namgyu smirked. “So romantic.”

Thanos rolled his eyes and went back to mixing whatever was sizzling in the pan. “You flirt like a high schooler.”

“I am a high schooler,” Namgyu deadpanned. Thanos froze mid-flip and shot him a sharp look. “I’m joking,” Namgyu added quickly, holding up both hands, attempting to look convincing while lying. Thanos didn’t need to know he was in his last year of high school. He was 18, that’s all that mattered alright? “Jesus. Relax.”

Thanos muttered something under his breath, shaking his head with a half-smile like he couldn’t believe he was dealing with this. The kitchen filled with quiet again, just the sound of oil popping and some lo-fi track playing low on Thanos’s speaker. Namgyu watched him move, lazy, practiced. He kind of hated how easy it was to watch him. Like watching someone solve a puzzle you didn’t know you were a part of.

Then Thanos turned to a drawer right below where Namgyu was sitting, clearly blocked. “Open your legs,” he said casually.

Namgyu blinked, heat instantly rising to his face. “W-what?”

Thanos just pointed at the drawer. “Spatula. Unless you want burnt eggs.”

“Oh,” Namgyu muttered. He hesitated, just a second too long, then shifted and let his legs part slightly to make space. Thanos stepped in between without a second thought, reached into the drawer, pulled out the utensil, and turned around like it was nothing. Namgyu stared at his back, face burning. God, he was so embarrassing . He looked down at his hands, then muttered under his breath, “You could’ve warned me.”

“I did,” Thanos said over his shoulder, amused. “Just not in the way your drama-addled brain interpreted it.”

Namgyu kicked his heel lightly against the cabinet, cheeks still pink. “Shut up.” Thanos just laughed.

Namgyu watched him for a moment, then slid off the counter and stepped closer. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Thanos’s waist from behind, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, not quite bold, more like testing something unspoken. Thanos tensed slightly, the spatula in his hand pausing above the frying pan. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, chest rising a little slower than before. “You good?” he asked, voice quiet. Not annoyed. Just… measured.

Namgyu hummed in response, cheek brushing between Thanos’s shoulder blades, fingers still resting warm against his skin. A few seconds passed like that, quiet, a little dangerous. Then Thanos cleared his throat, gently stepped forward, out of Namgyu’s hold, and reached for a clean bowl. “You’re gonna make me burn the eggs. You’re trouble kid” he said, not looking back. The tension hung thick between them, electric and unspoken. “You know,” Thanos said as he plated the eggs and added a couple slices of toast, “for someone who was all shy and evasive last night, calling me a fag, even, you’re awfully touchy today, boy.” He walked over to the living room and set the plates down on the coffee table. Namgyu trailed behind, ears red.

He sat down carefully, grabbing a fork but not really looking at Thanos. “I– yeah, okay, I didn’t mean that,” he said quickly. “Last night. I was just– nervous. And stupid.” He risked a glance at him, then away again. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t even know what I’m doing.” He poked at his eggs. “So, uh… you can tell me to stop, if I’m being weird.”

Thanos took a bite, chewed slowly, watching Namgyu squirm beside him. Then, with a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, he leaned back against the couch and said, “It’s okay, kid. I’ve been in your shoes.” Namgyu looked up at him, a little startled, a little embarrassed. “But,” Thanos continued, voice low and teasing, “I don’t think I’m the right person for you to be experimenting on.” Before Namgyu could say anything, Thanos reached over and patted his head, light, almost patronizing. “Eat your eggs before they get cold.”

Namgyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re the worst.” Namgyu didn’t retreat. His voice was quiet but steady, eyes fixed on Thanos’s profile. “Why, though?”

Thanos sighed through his nose, wiping his hands on a napkin, like he needed something to focus on. “Because I’m like ten years older than you?”

Namgyu’s lips curled, a flash of something mischievous passing over his face. “That’s better, isn’t it?” he murmured, shifting onto his knees. “You’re more experienced. You could… teach me a few things.” He crawled across the couch, slow, deliberate, like he was stalking prey, only stopping when he was close enough for Thanos to feel the heat of his breath. “I don’t mind learning.”

Thanos didn’t move. Not for a second. Then his jaw clenched. His gaze dropped, first to Namgyu’s mouth, then lower, and then he looked away entirely, dragging a hand through his hair with a shaky exhale. There was color rising at his neck, high up on his cheekbones. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t say shit like that.”

Namgyu tilted his head, voice lower. “Why not?”

Thanos glanced at him, and for a second there was something hungry in his eyes, something he buried just as fast. But he didn’t reply. He stood up too quickly, the motion tense. “I’m getting some air,” he said, heading toward the balcony without looking back.

Namgyu quickly got up and followed Thanos out to the balcony. The morning air hit him like a shock, cool and sharp against the heat still simmering between them. They stood side by side, close but careful, silence stretching out like a fragile thread neither wanted to snap. His heart thudded in his chest, loud enough he was sure Thanos could hear it.

Namgyu swallowed and finally broke the silence. “Why? Like, age aside and shit, I’m eighteen, you know? It’s okay, I guess.”

Thanos didn’t look at him right away. When he finally did, there was something tired in his eyes. “I don’t understand why you want me . Like, is it for clout or some shit? My fans already know I don’t give a fuck about gender, man.”

Namgyu’s breath caught. “What– clout? I– no! I don’t know why I want you specifically, I just do. I’m sorry if that’s weird. And I can just leave if you feel uncomfortable, I’d understand.” His voice softened, trembling a little. “It’s just… to be honest, there aren’t a lot of people in this shitty place that care about you the way you did for me last night. Like, my parents don’t even care where I am right now, and my friends haven’t even texted, probably hungover anyway. Whatever, man, the point is that I know you probably just offered to take me to your place last night to get in my pants before you knew my age. But even after I told you, you still treated me nicely. You even made me fucking breakfast. So… I guess what I’m trying to say is that you were nice. You don’t see that every day, even if it’s the bare minimum.” 

Namgyu’s words hung between them, honest and raw, more honest than he’d ever been with anyone before. He felt the weight of his own confession, a fragile mix of hope and fear twisting in his gut. He worried it sounded pathetic, like begging for scraps of kindness. But maybe that was the truth of it. His chest tightened with a strange kind of relief, admitting something this real felt like peeling off a layer of armor he’d been carrying around for years. He wasn’t sure what would come next, but for once, he didn’t want to hide it. As he glanced sideways at Thanos, Namgyu caught a glimpse of something unreadable in his expression. Maybe understanding. Maybe something else.

Attempting to cut the silence that had settled between them, Namgyu mumbled. “So… if you still wanna get in my pants…” His cheeks burned for what felt like the tenth time that morning.

“Jesus Christ, and here I thought you were opening your heart and shit." He laughed. Namgyu flinched, suddenly regretting the joke, but Thanos didn’t sound mad, just tired. His eyes stayed fixed on the city skyline beyond the balcony, jaw tight. “I’m serious,” Thanos said after a beat. “You’re still too young, Namgyu. You don’t know what you want yet.” Namgyu opened his mouth to protest, but Thanos cut him off with a look, not cold, but resolute. “I’m not saying that to be condescending. I know you think you know. I know it feels real. Hell, maybe it is. But I’m not going to be the guy who takes advantage of that. I can’t be.”

“You’re not–” Namgyu started, voice cracking. “You’re not taking advantage of me.”

Thanos shook his head, stepping away just enough that the warmth between them thinned. “I’m too old for you. I’ve seen too much, done too much shit. You should be figuring out who you are with someone who’s… closer to where you are. Not me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Namgyu swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting in his chest.

“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” he asked, quiet. 

Thanos looked at him, something soft flickering behind his eyes. “No. But I think you should go. Whenever you’re ready.” He exhaled slowly, like the decision cost him something. “Clear your head. Sleep off the tequila. Maybe in a few weeks this won’t feel so… important.

Namgyu didn’t move for a moment, unsure whether to argue or fall apart. But Thanos wasn’t angry. He wasn’t pushing him away with cruelty. It was worse, he was doing it kindly . That hurt more than yelling ever could.

“I’ll get my stuff,” Namgyu muttered, voice low. Thanos just nodded, arms crossed tight like he was holding himself together. Namgyu didn’t look back as he walked inside.

The apartment felt colder now, quieter. The plate of toast and eggs still sat untouched on the coffee table. He didn’t feel hungry anymore.

He moved on autopilot, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair, slipping his phone into his pocket. He could feel the sting behind his eyes, but he blinked hard and kept it down. He wasn’t going to cry. Not over this. Not in front of him.

When he reached the door, he hesitated with his hand on the knob. “Thanks,” he muttered without turning around. “For… you know. The breakfast. And for not being an asshole.”

Thanos said nothing at first. Namgyu wondered if he’d already turned away, gone back out to the balcony to smoke, to shake it off, to forget this ever happened. But then, slow, careful footsteps behind him. Namgyu didn’t move.

Thanos stopped just a few feet away. Close enough to reach out, but he didn’t. He just stood there. “I’m not kicking you out because I don’t like you,” Thanos said, voice low, strained. “I do. More than I should. That’s the problem.” Namgyu’s throat tightened. “I keep thinking,” Thanos continued, “if I was twenty, maybe even twenty-two, maybe I’d let myself be stupid about this. But I’m not. And if I did this now, if I let this happen, I don’t think I’d forgive myself.”

Namgyu finally turned around. His eyes were glassy, but steady. Thanos looked at him like he wanted to say more, but didn’t trust himself to. He stepped forward just enough to open the door, hand resting on the handle. “Be safe out there, kid.”

Namgyu nodded slowly. “Yeah. You too.”

He stepped out into the hallway. Thanos didn’t close the door right away. He stood there, leaning against the frame, watching Namgyu walk away like he wasn’t sure if he’d made the right call, or if he’d ever stop regretting it. The door finally clicked shut behind him. And the apartment fell quiet again. 

Namgyu only made it a few steps before stopping, heart hammering, breath caught somewhere between defiance and desperation. He turned around without thinking, feet carrying him back before his mind could catch up. One last shot. One last push. He raised his hand and knocked.

Thanos opened the door, already sighing. “Listen, kid, I told you, I–”

Namgyu stepped forward, grabbed the collar of Thanos’s shirt, and kissed him. It wasn’t shy. It was desperate, reckless, all the tension from the night before crashing into that single point of contact. Thanos stiffened, caught off guard. But only for a second.

Then his hands found Namgyu’s waist, fingers digging in, and he kissed him back, deep, unfiltered, hungry. It was messy and heated, mouths moving like they’d both been thinking about this far too long. Thanos’s body betrayed him, pressing forward, pulling Namgyu closer until their chests were flush and the air between them burned.

Namgyu gasped softly into the kiss, clutching at the back of Thanos’s neck. His lips were warm, eager, and he tasted like something Thanos shouldn’t want this badly. And that was the problem.

Thanos broke the kiss, panting against Namgyu’s mouth, forehead pressed to his. “Fuck. This is exactly why I told you to go.” Namgyu tried to chase his mouth, but Thanos pulled back, holding him at arm’s length. His pupils were blown wide, jaw clenched tight. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, almost hoarse. “And I don’t trust myself when you look at me like that.”

Namgyu’s voice came out in a whisper, defiant. “I do know what I’m doing.”

“You think you do. But this… this isn’t just a kiss, Namgyu.” Thanos ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step back, like he needed the distance to think straight. “You’re not just some hookup to me, I don’t know why. That’s the fucking problem.” Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Finally, Thanos glanced back, voice rough. “Go home.” And this time, when he closed the door, it was slower. Hesitant. Like he didn’t really want to.

Namgyu stared at it, unmoving. The hallway felt colder now, like the air had shifted with the finality of it. His throat tightened, heat rising behind his eyes, but he blinked it away. He wasn’t going to cry. Not when he’d almost feel something real.

He stepped back from the door, dragging a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the ache settling in his chest. This isn’t just a kiss, Namgyu. That line rang in his head like a bruise being pressed. What was it then? A mistake? A warning? Or a promise?

He leaned against the wall beside the door and let himself feel it, just for a second. The sting of rejection. The quiet hope that maybe Thanos had been lying when he told him to go. The warmth of his hands still ghosting on Namgyu’s waist.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t check it. Eventually, he pushed off the wall and walked down the hall, slower than before. Not defeated, not entirely, but something inside him had cracked open. Not in a bad way. Just… open. And he wasn’t sure what to do with that yet.

He made it home without thinking, muscle memory guiding him through every turn and staircase. Keys jingled, the door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that met him wasn’t comforting, it was loud. No one called out. No one asked where he’d been. His parents weren’t home. They never were.

He checked his phone out of habit. Still nothing. No messages. Not even from the friends who’d left him behind the night before.

The music in his room was too loud. Or maybe he was too quiet. Namgyu sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at a textbook that hadn’t moved from the same page in over an hour. The words swam. Nothing stuck. Not when his mind kept replaying the night before like it was stuck on a loop. The kiss. The way Thanos had looked at him like he mattered. The way he’d said, “ Go home, ” like it hurt to say it.

He should’ve been at school. Again. Another absence no one would call home about. Another day no one would ask where he was. It was starting to feel like he could disappear and no one would notice. 

He rolled onto his back and exhaled hard, flinging an arm over his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to feel like a breakup. Nothing had even started . But it felt like he’d lost something anyway.

Maybe it wasn’t Thanos exactly. Maybe it was just the first time in forever someone had made him feel… seen . Even if it was messy. Even if it scared the hell out of him. Even if it was a man.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Get a grip.” But his hand still burned where Thanos had touched him.

A couple days later, Namgyu sat on the cracked sidewalk outside the corner store, knees pulled up, picking at the label of a cheap soda bottle. His friends were a few feet away, arguing over whose turn it was to buy the next six-pack of beers.

It was the usual spot, the usual people, the usual noise. He used to feel comfortable here, safe, even. But now it all felt thin. Like someone had scraped the paint off and all that was left underneath was something dull and worn out.

He laughed when they did, forced a smirk when someone tossed him a joke, but none of it stuck. No one had asked where he’d been. No one even noticed. And for the first time, the thought didn’t just make him sad. It made him angry.

Taesun flopped down next to him, knees knocking Namgyu’s, the air thick with leftover cigarette smoke and the sharp scent of cheap cologne. He was jittery, grinning too wide, like he was already halfway gone.

“You’ve been quiet as shit lately,” he said, fishing around in his pocket. “Kinda depressing, not gonna lie.” Namgyu didn’t respond. Just stared out at nothing. Taesun nudged him. “Wanna stop thinking for a bit?” He opened his palm. Two pills, pink with a stupid little smiley face stamped on them.

Namgyu looked down at them. “What is it?”

“Just something to take the edge off. You’ll like it. World gets quieter.” Namgyu hesitated, heart thudding. He should’ve said no. Should’ve told Taesun to keep his shit. But his mind felt like static and every time he blinked he saw Thanos walking away, closing that door. Saying go home like Namgyu had one. He reached out.

Taesun raised an eyebrow, surprised but smug, and dropped one of the pills into Namgyu’s hand. “You sure?”

Namgyu nodded. “Yeah. You offered dude, don’t leave me hangin’ now.”

Then, suddenly the lights were too bright. At first, it had felt like a joke, the pill dissolving bitter under his tongue, Taesun grinning like they were all just chasing a good time. Namgyu leaned against the graffiti-tagged wall of the apartment complex rooftop, trying to ride the wave like everyone else. But the wave didn’t carry him. It swallowed him.

The music warped. People’s laughter twisted into something sharp. His skin felt too tight, like it was shrinking around his bones. His heartbeat wasn’t just fast, it was wrong, a heavy, slamming rhythm against his ribs. The ground tilted under his feet. His mouth was dry. Too dry. He clutched his chest. Was he dying?

No one noticed, not really. Taesun had moved on, passing more pills around like they were candy, already halfway through a story Namgyu couldn’t follow. He stumbled toward the stairs, legs barely cooperating. Where was his phone? His fingers couldn’t unlock it. The screen blurred. He wished, god, he wished he had Thanos’s number. He would’ve called. Would’ve said I’m sorry, I was stupid, please come get me . But all he had was a flickering lock screen, the battery red, the signal low.

The stairwell swayed. His knees hit concrete before he realized he was falling. Then someone crouched in front of him, blurry at first. Voice soft but firm. “Namgyu. Hey. Look at me.” It was Yoonji. He blinked, tried to speak, but the words got tangled somewhere behind his tongue. “Come on, you’re burning up.” She hooked an arm around his shoulders. “We’re getting out of here.”

He didn’t remember how they got to her place. Her room was small, messy, and warm. She helped him out of his jacket, gave him water, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of her hoodie. Namgyu sat curled on her bed, legs drawn up, wrapped in a blanket he hadn’t asked for, wearing a hoodie too pink for his taste. She sat across from him, quiet for a long time. Then: “What happened at the party?”

He stared at the cup in his hands. Water sloshed gently inside it, untouched. “I don’t know,” he lied. She didn’t push. Just leaned back with a sigh and left the question sitting between them. Namgyu stayed silent. Because if he talked, it might all come pouring out, the kiss, the ache, the fucking door closing behind him. And to be honest, he wasn’t ready to bleed all over her couch. 

Namgyu pulled the hoodie low over his head, like he could disappear into it. Yoonji was cross-legged beside him, scrolling, nails tapping against her phone.

“I kissed someone,” he blurted, no warning. “I wanted them to want me, like, really want me, and I think they did but…” He broke off, eyes darting anywhere but her. Then the words started tumbling out, too fast, tripping over each other, “There’s– okay, there’s this huge age gap so he’s like, ‘nop, not gonna happen,’ and he slammed the door on me– maybe not slammed but you know… and I know I shouldn’t fucking care because  we literally just met that night and it’s not like anything happened, but he was nice, like… actually nice, and also very hot, like ridiculously hot, and I don’t even know, I don’t fucking know what I feel right now and it’s stupid and I hate that I care and–”

“Breathe,” Yoonji said dryly, finally setting her phone down. She studied him for a long beat before shrugging. “Well, damn. If he’s too scared to want you, that’s his loss. Doesn’t mean you’re not worth wanting.” Her voice softened, losing the edge. “But… you wouldn’t be this twisted up if you didn’t actually give a shit.”

Namgyu pulled his hood lower, shoulders curling in. “No. Not really.”

And she let it go at that… for about ten seconds. “Look,” Yoonji said, leaning back on her hands. “Age gaps are tricky. Most of the time they’re bad news; power crap, weird control stuff, whatever. But sometimes…” She tilted her head, watching him. “Sometimes it’s just two people who like each other, and the rest is about timing. And timing can suck.” Namgyu kept staring at the carpet, chewing the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, if he’s decent, and you’re not just a fling to him, he’s probably staying away for your sake, not his.” She nudged his leg with her foot. “Doesn’t make it hurt less. But it’s not the worst reason in the world.”

He huffed out a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “Yeah. Great. The noble, self-sacrificing thing.”

“Better than him being a creep,” she shot back. Then, softer, “You’ll figure out what you want. Just… don’t wreck yourself over someone who’s not ready.” Namgyu didn’t answer. But the knot in his chest shifted, loosened, just a little.

Namgyu sat there for a moment, running her words over in his head until they almost lost meaning. Finally, he asked, quietly, “So… what the hell do I do now?”

Yoonji didn’t answer right away. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, looking at him like she was measuring how much truth he could take. “You live your life,” she said finally. “If he comes around, fine. If he doesn’t, you’ll still be here. Still breathing. Still… you.” She gave him a crooked smile. “And maybe you stop making out with dudes who slam doors in your face. Just a thought.”

That pulled the faintest smile out of him, even if it didn’t stick. “Yeah. I’ll… work on that.”

“There’s plenty of other fish in the sea,” she added with a sly grin. “And now that you’ve come to terms with… whatever, you can come to gay bars with me, dude.” She winked.

Namgyu’s stomach did a small flip. Not quite ready for that conversation yet, but he appreciated her trying to make him feel better. “We’ll see…”

After a couple hours, Namgyu stepped out into the cool night, the weight of the conversation still lingering as he left Yoonji’s place. The streets were quiet, the city’s hum softened under the darkness. When he finally reached his room, he dropped his bag and sank onto his bed, the silence swallowing him whole.

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the Facebook app. For a long moment, he stared at the blank screen set on Thanos’s page, imagining what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He probably gets a hundred messages like this every day, Namgyu thought bitterly. Why would he read mine?

With a shaky breath, he started typing something, then paused and deleted it. Tried again. Deleted once more. His fingers trembled, the words never feeling right. Finally, he threw the phone aside and hit play on his playlist. The music filled the room, but every song seemed to echo the same feeling, memories of the kiss, the warmth, the tension. Namgyu closed his eyes, heart thudding, unable to escape the loop playing in his mind.

Namgyu’s phone lit up, Taesun’s name flashing across the screen. “Yo,” Taesun’s voice came through, loud and unapologetic, “there’s another party tonight. And before you start saying no, I’ve seen you lately, being all down and shit, and trust me, you need this. Could help you relax, have some fun, dude.” Namgyu opened his mouth, but Taesun steamrolled right over him. “I’ll pick you up at ten. Wear something decent. Later.” The line went dead.

Namgyu stared at the phone for a second, debating. The logical part of him said stay home, but the silence of his room was already pressing in again, and the thought of another night lying here with nothing but his thoughts felt unbearable. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself up. Fine. A party. Maybe it would help.

He rifled through his closet, pulling out a shirt that looked less worn than the others, running a hand through his hair as he started to get ready. He picked out something casual but sharp, a loose black shirt, jeans, and the sneakers he only wore when he actually wanted to look like he’d put effort in. By the time Taesun’s car pulled up, the street was quiet, the air heavy.

Inside the car, Taesun was grinning like he’d just pulled off a heist. “This is a house party, not really at a club. Maybe Thanos will be there tonight,” he said, eyes on the road. “Been looking for a party with him since last time. Guy always has the best shit. Luckily I’m friends with one of his friends.” He said grinning, like he was happy about that. Namgyu’s stomach dropped. His hand tightened around his phone. He looked out the window, trying to keep his face blank. Taesun glanced at him. “You look tense. Here,” he pulled a small pill from his pocket and held it out, controlling the steering wheel with one hand. “Take it. Relax.” 

Namgyu hesitated, but before he could speak, Taesun added, “Yoonji told me about your little failed hookup the other night.” Namgyu’s chest went tight, heat rushing to his ears. That fucking bitch. Traitor. “Relax,” Taesun said quickly, sensing his panic. “She didn’t give me details. Just said it didn’t work out. No big deal.” Namgyu forced a small nod, the tension easing only slightly. He wasn’t sure how Taesun would react if he knew the truth. “Anyway,” Taesun went on, “If Thanos is there, there’ll be plenty of pretty girls. You can wipe that last hookup from your memory.”

Namgyu looked at the pill again. Thought about how loud the music would be, how crowded, how much his brain wouldn’t shut up if he didn’t take it. In the end, he swallowed it dry.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, bass shaking the walls, lights flickering, bodies pressed together in every corner. Taesun weaved through the crowd, dragging Namgyu into a circle of people who laughed too loud and passed drinks without asking. They were wilder than the people Namgyu usually hung around, more tattoos, more glitter, more chaos in their eyes. 

Somewhere between many shots, more pills and smoke, a girl with winged eyeliner and glossy lips leaned into him. She laughed at everything he said, touched his arm when she spoke, and kept refilling his cup. He didn’t know her name, but she stayed close all night, her perfume clinging to him. And as the hours blurred, her hand found his, tugging him toward a quieter hallway.

The hallway swayed under his feet, or maybe it was just him. The bass thudded through the walls like a second heartbeat, dizzying, almost making him stumble when she tugged him along. She pushed open a bedroom door and the smell hit him, smoke, perfume, sweat, all tangled together. She laughed, that tipsy kind of laugh, and shoved the door shut with her foot before pinning him back against it.

Her mouth was on his right away, wet, urgent, tasting like vodka and gum. His hands floated uselessly at his sides for a second before he remembered to move them. Everything felt slow but fast at the same time, his body lagging behind his brain.

“You’re cute,” she breathed, nails dragging lightly down his chest. The scrape sent a shiver through him, or maybe it was the pills kicking harder now.

She pulled him toward the bed, and he followed because it was easier than thinking. The sheets were a mess, and the smell was stronger here, clinging to his skin. She climbed onto the mattress and reached for the hem of his shirt, her fingers clumsy but eager. Namgyu went with it, trying to keep up, but every movement felt like pushing through warm water. His head swam, and somewhere under the haze, flashes of another face flickered. Someone taller, sharper, a smirk he couldn’t forget.

Her lips found his again, harder now, hands tugging at him like she could pull him all the way in. He let her, but the knot in his chest tightened, every breath shorter, heavier. “You’re so shy,” she giggled, straddling him. “I like that.”

He laughed weakly, though he didn’t know why. The room was tilting now, shadows stretching weird on the walls. She guided his hands to her waist, pressing closer, and he moved with her because stopping would mean explaining something he couldn’t put into words. But the heat in the room turned into something else. Uncomfortable, almost suffocating. She didn’t slow down. If anything, she pushed harder, kissing him until his head spun so much he thought he might be sick.

“I–” His voice cracked, and he had to swallow to find it again. “I need air.”

Her face twisted into an annoyed half-smile. “Seriously?”

He nodded, already sliding out from under her, the floor tilting under his shoes. She flopped back onto the bed, muttering something he didn’t catch. The hallway hit him like a wave, too bright, too loud, too much, vision swimming, one hand dragging along the wall to keep himself upright. The air was thick, warm, almost sticky against his skin. His ears rang with the bass, each beat making his chest thump like he’d swallowed the sound. He turned a corner too fast, and suddenly, solid. His body collided with something broad and warm, and the jolt nearly sent him tipping backward.

A hand shot out, firm and steady, grabbing his waist and holding him in place. “Careful, babygirl.” The voice was low, close. Too close. Namgyu blinked hard, trying to focus, and then the blur sharpened just enough for his stomach to drop. Thanos.

For a second, neither of them moved. Thanos' eyes widening slightly when he realized who it really was. Namgyu’s pulse slammed in his ears, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the drugs or from the fact that Thanos’s hand was still there, hot through the fabric of his shirt, fingers spread against his side like they were claiming him. The haze made everything feel too much, how steady Thanos felt, how tall he seemed from this close, how the scent of his cologne cut through the smoke and sweat in the air.

“You’re…” Namgyu’s voice trailed, his tongue heavy. He couldn’t even finish the thought, his mind scrambling under the weight of the moment.

Thanos’s eyes flicked over him, slow, unreadable. “You’re wasted.”

Namgyu let out something between a laugh and a breath, because he couldn’t argue. His knees felt unreliable, and the only thing keeping him from sliding down the wall was Thanos’s grip. The music pounded on in the background, but between them it was quiet, except for the sound of Namgyu’s unsteady breathing.

Namgyu’s fingers curled into Thanos’s wrist before his brain even caught up to the motion. He tugged, not hard, but with enough insistence to pull Thanos a step toward the door beside them. The silver handle was cool under Namgyu’s palm, the hinges creaking faintly as he pushed it open and stumbled inside, pulling Thanos with him. A bathroom apparently. 

Thanos’s brows knit together, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “Namgyu… you’re drunk. I’m drunk too. What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, almost swallowed by the muffled bass bleeding through the door. He leaned his weight against the doorframe, studying him. “I already told you–” 

But before he could finish Namgyu interrupted him. He didn’t answer, but his body moved before his mind could think of words, arms sliding up and around Thanos’s neck, the desperation in the gesture unmistakable. His breath hitched, chest pressed flush to Thanos’s as he pulled him in.

The kiss landed hard, urgent, messy, tasting faintly of alcohol and something sweeter. Thanos froze for a heartbeat… and then caved, any restraint shattering under the heat of it. His hands slid down Namgyu’s sides, over his hips, until they found his thighs. With a firm grip, he lifted, making Namgyu gasp softly as he was set down onto the cool surface of the sink counter. The porcelain dug into the backs of his legs, grounding him only for a second before Thanos’s mouth was on his again, deeper this time, almost hungry.

The bathroom was dim, lit only by the flicker of a colored bulb from the hallway seeping through the crack under the door. It cast them both in shifting shadows, their breathing the only sound between beats of the music outside.

Thanos’s fingers dug into the backs of Namgyu’s thighs, keeping him anchored on the counter. Namgyu’s knees parted instinctively, allowing the taller man to settle between them and pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.

The haze in Namgyu’s head made everything feel louder, Thanos’s breathing against his mouth, the faint hitch of a groan when Namgyu’s fingers slid into his hair. His heart was pounding like it was trying to match the bass outside, every thud reverberating through him.

Thanos kissed him like he was trying to steal the air from his lungs, deep, messy, a little desperate. His grip shifted higher, thumbs pressing into the warm skin just under the hem of Namgyu’s shirt, tracing the curve of his waist. 

Namgyu’s hand slid down the back of Thanos’s neck, pulling him in again. Their mouths collided, harder this time. Thanos leaned his weight into him, the counter creaking faintly under the shift. His hands roamed, firm and sure, while Namgyu clung to him like the only solid thing in the spinning room. The music outside felt miles away now. It was just heat, breath, the taste of him, the electric crackle in the space between wanting and losing control.

Namgyu’s hands slid lower, fingers curling over the bulge straining against Thanos’s pants, only for Thanos’s hands to shoot down, catching his wrists in a firm grip. “Namgyu…” His voice was gravel, torn between need and restraint. “We can’t–”

“Just shut the fuck up, okay?” Namgyu snapped, voice pitching with raw frustration. His chest was heaving, eyes glassy. “You’re going to make me cry out of desperation, you fucking dick.”

Before Thanos could even react, Namgyu hopped off the counter. The next second he was on his knees in front of him, pressing his face into the heat between Thanos’s legs. He tilted his head up, looking at him through his lashes, pupils blown wide.

“Please. Thanos, please…” It was almost a whine now, frantic, broken. “I couldn’t care less how much older you are. It’s legal, that’s all that fucking matters, alright? So please just– just let me– fuck, I don’t–” His breath hitched. “I want everything. Just let me, please. I don’t care, just do whatever you want with me. Please.”

Thanos’s grip on his wrist tightened enough to bruise, knuckles white. “Fuck. Okay. Fuck.” He yanked him up in one strong pull, forcing Namgyu to his feet again and placing his hand in the back of Namgyu’s lower back to steady him. For a second, Thanos just stared at him. Namgyu’s face was flushed a deep red that spread down his neck, and Thanos stared at him like he couldn’t stop wondering if that heat traveled further down his chest. “Fuck, okay,” Thanos muttered again, voice low and tight. “Let’s go to my place, though. We’re not doing this in a shitty bathroom.”

They slipped out the back, the thump of the party fading into the cool night air. Namgyu’s pulse was a roar in his ears, every step closer to Thanos’s car a blur of heat and urgency. The doors shut, sealing them off in the dark cabin. 

Thanos had just reached for the ignition when Namgyu climbed over the console, knees bracketing his hips, straddling him, almost in an uncomfortable position. His mouth found Thanos’s without hesitation, hot, messy, tasting of liquor and desperation, while his hips rolled down, grinding against the thick bulge pressing up into him.

A shaky moan slipped from Namgyu’s throat at the contact, vibrating against Thanos’s lips. Thanos’s hands came up, firm but unhurried, pushing at his sides until there was space between them. “Calm down,” he murmured, voice like a low warning. “They can see us here.” The words cut through Namgyu’s haze just enough to make him flush. He slid back into his seat, eyes darting anywhere but at Thanos, ears burning.

The car roared to life. Thanos drove fast, too fast , threading through streets with sharp turns that made Namgyu’s stomach lurch, though not from fear. One of Thanos’s hands stayed anchored on his thigh most of the way, thumb idly stroking over the fabric, each pass like an electric shock. Minutes later, the tires crunched over gravel. Thanos killed the engine. They’d made it, finally.

The door barely clicked shut before Thanos was on him. One hand slammed against the wall beside Namgyu’s head, the other gripping his jaw and tilting it up. Their mouths crashed together, teeth scraping, the kiss deep and frantic, like they’d both been holding their breath since the car.

Namgyu’s back hit the wall hard enough to rattle a frame. Thanos’s body pinned him there, heat radiating through every layer of clothing. Namgyu’s hands clutched at his shirt, tugging, trying to drag him closer, the soft desperate sounds in his throat spilling between their mouths.

Thanos broke away only long enough to drag his mouth along Namgyu’s jaw, his breath hot against his ear. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane ever since that night,” he muttered, low and ragged. Namgyu’s fingers fisted in his hair, pulling him back into another kiss, deeper, messier. His leg hooked around Thanos’s hip, grinding up into him with a gasp. They weren’t making it to the bedroom at this pace.

Thanos’s hands were on him like he didn’t know where to start, gripping his waist, sliding up his sides, fisting in his shirt until he finally just yanked it over Namgyu’s head and tossed it aside. Namgyu shivered, chest flushed, breath hitching when Thanos’s palms spread across his bare skin. “God, you’re–” Thanos didn’t finish, his mouth sealing over Namgyu’s again, swallowing whatever sound he made.

Namgyu’s fingers fumbled at Thanos’s jacket, shoving it off his shoulders, then clawing at his shirt until it was bunched at his ribs, but not fully taking it off. Every time Thanos pressed into him, the hard line between them made Namgyu’s knees weaken. They stumbled, half-twisting, until Namgyu’s back hit the opposite wall. Thanos bent to mouth at his neck, teeth catching, lips dragging lower, hands already on Namgyu’s belt.

“Bedroom,” Namgyu breathed, dizzy.

But Thanos only growled, “Not making it,” and sank lower, mouth trailing over his chest, his hands spreading across Namgyu’s hips like he was claiming every inch.

The sound Namgyu made was half-whine, half-laugh, because he knew Thanos was right, but still: “Please.” He asked in that pretty voice he knew would drive Thanos crazy.

And it did, because the next thing Namgyu knew, Thanos was hauling him up by the thighs like he weighed nothing. Namgyu gasped, clutching at Thanos’s shoulders before instinct took over, his legs locking tight around Thanos’s waist, one arm snaking around his neck for balance.

“You weigh nothing, baby,” Thanos groaned low against his ear, the heat of it shooting straight to Namgyu’s clothed cock. “I could fuck you like this, real good.”

The words made Namgyu’s breath stutter, a flush spreading hot over his chest. Thanos started walking, steady despite the added weight, his mouth finding the slope of Namgyu’s neck and marking him as they went. Namgyu whined, the sound needy and unguarded, fingers curling in Thanos’s hair.

When they reached the bed, Thanos lowered him slowly onto it, keeping their eyes locked as he slid between Namgyu’s open legs. His hands roamed over his waist, deliberate, almost reverent, and his voice dropped into something both rough and sweet. “I’m gonna treat you real good, baby. Gonna make you feel like a fucking princess. You like that?” Namgyu’s only answer was a breathless nod and a soft, aching whine, his back arching when Thanos’s mouth returned to his neck, leaving marks that would stay long after the night ended.

Thanos’s teeth grazed the edge of Namgyu’s jaw before his mouth dragged lower, finding the spot that made him shiver. Namgyu’s hands were in his hair now, tugging, silently urging him closer. Then Thanos shifted his hips, just enough for Namgyu to feel the hard press of him through their clothes. Namgyu’s breath caught, a sharp little gasp that melted into a moan as he rocked up instinctively, the friction shooting fire up his spine.

“Fuck,” Thanos muttered against his skin, his grip on Namgyu’s waist tightening. “Do that again.” Namgyu did, rolling his hips up to meet him, the slow grind turning sloppy with need. Every movement dragged another sound from him, soft and wrecked, and Thanos drank in every bit of it like it was oxygen. “You’re killing me, baby,” he groaned.

Thanos slid his own shirt up and over his head, revealing toned abs that flexed with every breath. Namgyu’s cheeks flamed, not because Thanos’ was some sort of body builder, but it was obvious he worked out enough to make his body look sharp, lean muscle wrapped in just the right amount of roughness.

“This your first time with a dude, right?” Thanos asked softly, eyes darkening as he studied Namgyu’s flushed face. Namgyu just nodded, too shy to say much else. Thanos’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “I’m gonna make sure it feels real good, baby. And, honestly? I’m kinda excited to be the first to claim that pretty ass.”

His hands slid down from Namgyu’s waist to his hips, fingers tracing slow circles. Namgyu’s breath hitched when Thanos’s thumbs found the button of his pants, deftly working it loose before sliding into the zipper.

Thanos’s hands were steady but deliberate as he eased Namgyu’s pants down past his hips, exposing his black tight boxers and the bare skin beneath. Namgyu’s heart hammered in his chest, a wild mix of nerves and desire swirling inside him. He bit his lip, eyes locked on Thanos, feeling both vulnerable and electrified.

Thanos leaned in closer, breath warm against Namgyu’s ear. “You ready, baby?” His voice was low, rough with anticipation.

Namgyu swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah… I want this. Please.”

With a slow, deliberate touch, Thanos’s hands slid around Namgyu’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Every movement was purposeful, like he was savoring the moment, making sure Namgyu felt safe and wanted. He marked him wherever he could, intent on leaving evidence that would still be visible in the morning. His mouth trailed down from Namgyu’s neck to his chest, where he left more heated marks before shifting to one side to take a nipple between his lips. Namgyu let out a high, unrestrained moan at the sensation, instantly slapping his hands over his mouth in embarrassment.

“Don’t,” Thanos murmured, looking up at him and prying his hands away. “You sound so sweet.”

The compliment made Namgyu’s face flush even deeper. “’S not fair… you’re still wearing your pants,” he muttered, fingers reaching to unbutton them.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Thanos teased, but he still shoved the pants down, leaving himself in a pair of black boxers, just like Namgyu’s. Thanos didn’t give Namgyu a chance to ogle, he was already leaning back in, catching his mouth in a deeper kiss, hands sliding low to cup him through the thin fabric. He rolled his hips just enough to make Namgyu gasp, the friction sharp and hot.

“Feel that?” Thanos murmured against his lips, then bent to mouth along Namgyu’s jaw, nipping just hard enough to make him squirm. Every kiss came with a little bite, every bite soothed with a slow lick, until Namgyu’s skin was tingling all over. Thanos’s palms skimmed up under Namgyu’s thighs, spreading him open, rocking against him in a slow, filthy rhythm. “You’re already twitching for me,” he teased, voice thick.

Namgyu whined, trying to push back against him, but Thanos only pinned his hips down with one big hand and dragged his teeth over Namgyu’s collarbone, marking him again. He mouthed lower, circling Namgyu’s nipple with the tip of his tongue before biting down just enough to make Namgyu’s back arch.

By the time Thanos’s mouth returned to his lips, there was a growing wet patch on both of their boxers, the heat between them making the thin cotton cling to their skin. Thanos ground into him again, deliberately pressing the damp spots together, and Namgyu let out a broken gasp at the slick friction.

“God, you’re making a mess already,” Thanos rasped, rubbing the heel of his hand over Namgyu’s length through the soaked fabric. His own hips kept moving, letting Namgyu feel how wet his boxers were too. Namgyu’s fingers dug into Thanos’s shoulders, pulling him closer, and Thanos laughed low in his ear. “Not so shy anymore, huh?” He shifted, grinding harder, slow enough to make both of them groan at the slide of wet fabric on wet fabric.

Thanos didn’t rush. Even with both of them already damp and aching, he kept the barrier between them, letting the cling of wet cotton and the drag of friction drive Namgyu crazy. He shifted his weight, pinning Namgyu down with his hips while his hands roamed, palming him through the soaked fabric, then sliding up to knead at his waist and chest, thumbs brushing over sensitized skin. He bent to bite at the swell of Namgyu’s pec, dragging his teeth until Namgyu gasped, then sucked at the mark until it bloomed red.

“Thanos–” Namgyu’s voice was already breathless, his thighs trembling as Thanos’s hips rolled slow and heavy against him. The slick heat between them made every grind sharper, messier.

“Not yet, baby” Thanos murmured against his throat, teeth catching the skin there. “You’re gonna feel me like this until you can’t take it anymore.” He shifted lower, his mouth tracing the edge of Namgyu’s waistband, biting just enough to make him jolt. His hand squeezed over Namgyu’s length again, feeling the wet spot spread even further, and Namgyu’s back arched. “God, you’re dripping,” Thanos said with a dark little chuckle, grinding into him harder so the soaked patches pressed and slid together, the sensation almost unbearable. Namgyu’s hands flew to Thanos’s boxers, tugging, desperate to get them off, but Thanos caught his wrists, pressing them above his head. “Told you–” he pushed down with his hips again, making them both groan “–not yet.”

Every roll of his hips smeared more heat between them, the damp cotton clinging to every contour. Thanos kept it there, slow but relentless, teasing the edge without ever crossing it. Namgyu’s head tipped back, his breath breaking into shaky whines. “Please…” he gasped, hips jerking up despite the hold on his wrists. “Hyung…”

The word hit Thanos like a punch to the gut. His grip faltered, a sharp curse tearing from his throat. “Fuck…” He released Namgyu’s wrists and slid down his body, the heat in his gaze enough to make Namgyu shiver. Thanos hovered over the swollen outline straining against the soaked fabric, his breath ghosting over it. “Say it again,” he demanded, voice rough.

Namgyu’s chest heaved, and before he could catch his breath, Thanos’s mouth closed over the bulge, heat and pressure flooding through the wet cotton, making the wet patch even larger. Namgyu’s back arched instantly, a loud, strained moan spilling from him. “H-hyung–”

The sound vibrated between them, making Thanos groan into him, pressing harder, dragging his mouth along the shape until Namgyu was trembling under the onslaught. Only then did Thanos hook his thumbs in the waistband of Namgyu’s boxers, dragging the wet material down inch by agonizing inch. The soaked fabric clung stubbornly before finally peeling away, leaving Namgyu bare and flushed, the heat between his legs throbbing in open air.

Thanos’s breath hitched the second he saw him. His cock slick, flushed, and twitching like he’d been waiting for hours instead of minutes. His jaw flexed, control slipping with every heartbeat. “God, you’re fucking perfect,” he rasped, making Namgyu blush once again, his fingers splaying over Namgyu’s hips like he needed to hold him in place or he’d devour him whole. 

And then he did. No hesitation, no mercy, Thanos’s mouth closed over his cock in one smooth, hungry motion, the sudden wet heat ripping a choked cry from Namgyu’s throat. His thighs trembled, his hands flying to grip at Thanos’s hair, the pleasure hitting so hard his voice cracked. “H-hyung–ah–”

The sound made Thanos groan low in his chest, the vibration curling hot through Namgyu’s core. He sucked harder, tongue pressing and dragging in deep, deliberate swipes like he wanted to map every inch with his mouth. Namgyu’s hips twitched up despite himself, the raw need breaking through any shyness, and Thanos met it with equal force, pinning him down and working him until the room spun.

By the time Thanos finally pulled back, Namgyu was shaking, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts. He didn’t even try to hide the way his voice broke when he gasped, “Hyung… just– fuck me already… please.”

That did it. Thanos’s control snapped. In one smooth motion he pushed to his feet, shoving his own boxers down. Namgyu’s breath hitched, his eyes locked instantly on Thanos’s cock, definitely bigger than average, flushed, heavy, and gleaming with piercings. Thanos caught the look, his smirk slow and wicked. “Like what you see, baby?”

Namgyu swallowed hard, heat flooding his face, but he didn’t look away. “It’s… bigger than I thought,” he murmured, breath hitching, his voice trembling between intimidation and want.

Thanos’s smirk deepened, catching the way Namgyu’s thighs squeezed together. “Yeah? Think you can take it, pretty boy?”

Namgyu’s lips parted, a shaky laugh slipping out. “I want to.”

That was all it took. Thanos’s eyes darkened, his tone dropping to a growl. “You’re gonna.” Thanos’s gaze dragged over Namgyu like a touch, deliberate and unhurried. “Lie back for me,” he said, voice low but carrying weight, like he expected to be obeyed. Namgyu did, propping himself on his elbows, chest rising and falling fast. His eyes kept darting down to Thanos’s cock and back up again, like he couldn’t stop himself. “You keep staring like that,” Thanos murmured, stepping between his legs, “and I’m gonna think you’re obsessed already.”

Namgyu’s lips curved into the smallest smirk, though his blush betrayed him. “...Maybe I am.”

That earned him a sharp breath through Thanos’s nose, the man’s jaw tightening as if holding back. “I’ll make sure you really are.” He leaned over him, hands gripping the insides of Namgyu’s thighs, slowly pushing them apart. “Tell me what you want.”

Namgyu’s voice cracked around the word. “You.” He licked his lips, gaze heavy-lidded. “I want you to fuck me already.”

Thanos chuckled low, shaking his head. “Already? Look at you, so needy you’d let me do it raw without a thought.”

Namgyu gave a nervous, breathless laugh. “Maybe I would.”

That made Thanos still for a moment, his eyes fixed on him, dark with hunger. “Fuck, you’re dangerous, kid.” His fingers skimmed higher along Namgyu’s thighs, just brushing where he was aching most. “But I’m not rushing this. First I’m gonna open you up nice and slow… and I want you to tell me how good it feels.”

Namgyu swallowed hard, but nodded. “...Okay.”

“Not ‘okay.’ ” Thanos’s tone sharpened. “Say, ‘Yes, hyung.’”

Namgyu’s breath stuttered, but his voice came out sweet and obedient. “Yes, hyung.”

Thanos pulled open the drawer by the bed and grabbed a small bottle of lube and a pack of condoms. He popped the cap and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, slowly rubbing it on his palm until it warmed up.

“Ready for me to get you good and ready, baby?” His voice was low, edged with something dark and promising.

Namgyu nodded, breath catching. “Yeah… please.”

Thanos gently traced around Namgyu’s rim, circling lazily, teasing, letting him squirm under the touch with his coated finger in the cool, slippery lube. “Gonna make sure you’re nice and loose before I take what’s mine.”

Namgyu shivered, his breath catching, the mixture of nerves and anticipation making his heart pound against his ribs. The first slow push of Thanos’s finger made him gasp, there was a faint, stretching burn, but it was wrapped in a wave of hot, heady pleasure that shot straight through his core. It was overwhelming in the best way, making his toes curl as his body fought between wanting to clench and wanting to melt around the intrusion.

The deeper Thanos went, the more that sting began to blur into something addictive, the kind of sensation that made his thighs twitch and his lips part helplessly. He could feel every inch moving inside him, every deliberate curl and press.

“So tight for me already, begging like a good boy,” Thanos murmured, his tone thick and indulgent.

Namgyu whimpered, arching up into the touch, his body instinctively chasing more. His voice cracked with need, the pleasure licking at every nerve ending. “Please… more…”

The way it felt, vulnerable, exposed, yet so achingly good had him dizzy with want. Every time Thanos’s finger moved, it seemed to stir up more heat, more hunger, until Namgyu could barely remember to breathe.

Thanos slipped in another finger, stretching him carefully. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Make sure you’re ready for every inch.” His lips brushed against Namgyu’s neck as he spoke, sending heat flickering down his spine. Namgyu’s hands gripped Thanos’s wrists, desperate for more contact, more proof this was real.

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” Namgyu breathed.

Thanos chuckled darkly, lips close to his ear. “I want to hear you scream my name when I do.”

Thanos slid his fingers deeper, opening them in a slow, deliberate scissor motion, making sure Namgyu was truly ready, every stretch measured and careful. His touch was steady, commanding, yet gentle enough to coax Namgyu open without pain.

His other hand found Namgyu’s cock, slick and trembling in his grip. Thanos began to stroke him with a practiced rhythm, fingers wrapping around the shaft, teasing every sensitive spot. Namgyu was a moaning mess beneath him, his cock glistening with precum, the head flushed a deep, hungry red. A particularly sharp moan escaped Namgyu’s lips when Thanos curled his fingers, pressing firmly against his prostate. The sound was raw and needy, and it sent a rush of heat straight through Thanos.

“Feels good, baby?” Thanos murmured, voice thick with desire.

“Yes… don’t stop, hyung,” Namgyu whimpered, voice trembling on the edge of breaking. After a few more torturous strokes and deep presses, Thanos reached for the condom. But Namgyu’s hand shot out, gripping Thanos’s wrist, stopping him. “Please,” Namgyu begged, eyes dark and desperate. “I want to feel you… Raw.”

Thanos’s breath hitched, heat flaring in his chest. “Fuck, baby… I can’t believe how hard you get me.” He hesitated, torn between caution and the wild pull of lust. The air thickened with tension, every second stretching unbearably long, until finally, with a low growl, Thanos let go of the condom packet, fingers tightening possessively around Namgyu’s waist. “Alright,” he whispered, voice rough and low, “but you’re mine now. No backing out. I’m gonna fill you up real good, baby.” Namgyu’s eyes burned with need as he nodded, heart hammering. 

Thanos shifted, positioning himself carefully between Namgyu’s legs, after coating his cock with enough lube. His hands stayed firm on Namgyu’s hips, steadying him as he pressed forward slowly, only letting the thick head push past the tight ring of muscle, giving Namgyu time to adjust to the stretch and the weight.

Namgyu’s breath hitched, and a moan spilled from his lips at the sudden intrusion, skin tingling where their bodies met. His hands instinctively gripped Thanos’s shoulders, nails digging in hard, hoping to leave marks just like Thanos had painted all over his neck and chest, as waves of sharp, hot sensation rolled through him.

Thanos’s voice dropped even lower, thick with want. “You ready, baby?”

Namgyu swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper. “Ready. Don’t stop.”

With one deep, deliberate push, Thanos sank into him fully, slow and unrelenting. Every movement was measured, teasing, savoring the moment like he was claiming it for himself. Namgyu’s body trembled, hips rocking instinctively to meet the rhythm, lips parting in soft gasps and moans. The corner of his eyes pricked with heat, tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming burn laced with pleasure. The rawness of it electrified him, every nerve ending lit up.

Thanos’s hands traced lazy patterns along Namgyu’s waist as he whispered, voice hot and sweet at once, “You feel so good– mine. You’re doing so well for me.”

Namgyu’s reply came breathless, broken by a shaky moan. “Only want you, hyung. Don’t stop.”

The room filled with the sound of their breathing, the slick friction, and tangled whispers of two bodies learning each other, slow and consuming. One of Thanos’s hands slid down to Namgyu’s thigh, gripping firmly before pushing it up and back so Namgyu’s knee pressed toward his chest, opening him even more. The angle made Thanos groan low.

“Fuck, you’re perfect like this,” he rasped, his hips rolling deeper, making Namgyu gasp sharply. “Taking me so well, look at you.”

Namgyu’s fingers clutched at the sheets, head falling back. “Hyung, harder, please.”

At first, Thanos kept the rhythm slow, letting Namgyu melt around him. But when he felt the younger man’s hips start to meet his, hungry for more, he gave in, thrusting deeper, faster. Namgyu’s moans climbed in pitch, high and needy, filling the room.

“That’s it,” Thanos growled, bending low to murmur against his ear. “Cry for me, baby. I want everyone to know who’s fucking you.”

Namgyu’s response was a breathless whimper, his voice shaking. “Y-you… Hyung… fuck.”

“Yeah?” Thanos grinned darkly, pounding harder. “Say it again.”

Namgyu’s nails dug even deeper into Thanos’s shoulders, the sharp sting only spurring him on. His back arched, body pushing desperately into every thrust. “Hyung–” The word broke on a moan so high and sweet it made Thanos’s cock twitch inside him.

“Fuck, baby… that’s it,” Thanos groaned, voice almost guttural now. “Keep calling me that while I fuck you.”

Every thrust drove in harder, deeper, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room, mixing with Namgyu’s needy gasps. The stretch burned, but it was intoxicating, sending shocks of pleasure straight to Namgyu’s core.

Thanos’s free hand snaked between them, wrapping around Namgyu’s flushed, slick cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “So hard for me… dripping all over my hand,” he murmured, thumb swiping over the wet, sensitive tip and drawing out another sharp cry. “You like that? Being opened up while I play with you?” Namgyu’s answer was a frantic nod, too breathless to speak, his moans tumbling out in helpless rhythm. Thanos leaned down, lips brushing Namgyu’s ear, his voice low and wicked. “I’m gonna make you come just like this, stuffed full of me… You want that, baby?”

“Yes, hyung, please,” Namgyu gasped, his hips jerking wildly as Thanos’s hand tightened around him. “Don’t stop. Don’t–”

“Not planning on it,” Thanos smirked, shifting his angle to grind hard against that spot inside him that made Namgyu cry out like he’d just lost control completely. “Fuck, I could live inside you.” Namgyu’s body shook, the overwhelming pleasure winding tighter and tighter in his stomach, threatening to snap.

Thanos kept pounding into him, each thrust dragging a desperate, broken sound from Namgyu’s throat. But then, between moans, Namgyu’s trembling hands slid up to Thanos’s chest, pressing gently as if to stop him. Thanos slowed, breathing heavy. “What’s wrong, baby? Too much?”

Namgyu shook his head quickly, flushed and shining with sweat, eyes glassy with need. “No… I just–” he bit his lip, the words shy but thick with want, “I wanna ride you, hyung. Please. I wanna come jumping on your cock.”

“Fuck… you’re gonna kill me, baby.” His hands gripped Namgyu’s waist like he might never let go. “You think you can take me like that? Huh? Bounce on me until you come all over my cock?”

Namgyu whimpered, nodding hard. “Yes… I want it. Please, hyung. Want to make you feel good.”

Thanos’s grin turned dark, hungry. “Aren’t you a sweet thing? Fine. You want it, you get it.”

He pulled out slowly, watching the way Namgyu’s hole clenched at the loss, before guiding him up by the hips. Thanos leaned back against the headboard, settling in with his legs spread, his cock flushed and slick, standing proud against his stomach. “Come here, baby. Show me how bad you want it.”

Namgyu climbed into his lap, knees on either side of Thanos’s hips, his hands braced on those broad shoulders. Namgyu hovered there, his thighs trembling as the head of Thanos’s cock pressed insistently at his entrance. Thanos’s big hands stayed firm on his hips, holding him in place, not letting him sink down just yet.

“You’re so eager,” Thanos murmured, voice low and rough. “But you’re gonna take your time for me. I wanna watch that sweet little hole swallow me inch by inch.”

Namgyu shivered, nails curling into Thanos’s shoulders, his lips parting on a shaky breath. “Hyung… you’re mean,” he whispered, though the heat in his voice gave him away.

Thanos smirked up at him, his thumbs stroking lazy circles on Namgyu’s skin. “Not mean, baby. Careful. Gonna make it last… make sure you feel every single bit of me.”

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Namgyu’s chest, biting lightly over one nipple before soothing it with his tongue. Namgyu gasped, hips jerking forward without thinking, making the head push just the tiniest bit inside.

“Ah–” Namgyu’s breath caught, his fingers digging harder into Thanos’s shoulders. “Feels… s’big already…”

“I know,” Thanos growled against his skin. “And you’re gonna take all of it.” His hands slid lower, gripping Namgyu’s ass firmly, spreading him open just a little more, teasing him with tiny rolls of his hips that never gave more than the head.

Namgyu’s whimper was high and desperate. “Hyung. Please, let me– just–”

“Say it prettier,” Thanos interrupted, his eyes locked on Namgyu’s flushed face.

Namgyu bit his lip, leaning in so close their foreheads touched. “Please, hyung… let me sit on your cock… wanna feel you inside me all the way.”

The sound Thanos made was pure filth, his grip tightening. “You’re gonna ruin me, baby.”

Only then did he guide Namgyu down a little more, the thick head stretching him open slowly, making them both groan at the same time.

Namgyu’s thighs quivered as Thanos held him steady, lowering him only a fraction at a time. Every new inch pushed a needy sound from his lips, his breath shuddering as the thick stretch stole all his focus.

“Slow… that’s it,” Thanos coaxed, voice rough but controlled, eyes locked on where they were joined. “Look at you… takin’ me so fucking good.”

Namgyu whimpered, his nails scraping over Thanos’s shoulders as he sank down another inch. “Hyung, ah– feels… so full…” His voice cracked, the syllables tumbling out between gasps.

“You’re not even all the way there yet,” Thanos said with a dark, hungry smile, dragging one hand up Namgyu’s spine before gripping his nape. “Breathe for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

Namgyu tried to, but his lungs kept hitching as the last bit of length pushed past the tightest part of him. He collapsed forward slightly, forehead pressing into Thanos’s temple as a loud, trembling moan escaped him.

“Fuck…” Thanos groaned, feeling every twitch and clench around him. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight… gonna make me lose it before we even start.”

Namgyu finally stilled, bottomed out, panting against Thanos’s neck. The fullness was overwhelming, his pulse loud in his ears. “So big, hyung…”

Thanos stroked down his back, soothing him. “And all yours, baby. Now.” His hands tightened on Namgyu’s hips, pulling him up just an inch before guiding him back down, slow and deliberate. Namgyu gasped at the drag, at how every nerve in him lit up.  “That’s it,” Thanos murmured, his voice like gravel. “Nice and easy… feel it all.”

The first few bounces were shallow, more like slow rolls of his hips than real movement, each one wringing a new sound from Namgyu’s throat. The wet, slick heat between them grew with every pass, the pace maddeningly unhurried.

Namgyu’s head tipped back, mouth falling open. “Hyung… you’re teasing me.”

“Damn right,” Thanos cut in, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Gonna make you beg for it before I let you fuck yourself stupid on me.”

Namgyu’s thighs burned from holding back, from letting Thanos control the pace. Every shallow lift and slide made his cock throb harder, precum already leaking down over his stomach. “Hyung…” he whined, his voice breaking on the word. “Please– let me– I wanna–” His hips twitched impatiently, and he bit his lip, eyes glassy. “I wanna ride you. I wanna jump on your cock.”

Thanos’s grip on his hips tightened like a vice. The curse that slipped from his lips was low and sharp. “Fuck, baby…” He leaned in, kissing the corner of Namgyu’s mouth before growling against his skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He eased his hold, sitting back against the headboard with his hands resting on Namgyu’s thighs in invitation. “Go on then, give me a show, baby.” Namgyu didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted himself up almost completely off him, then sank down in one fluid, desperate motion. The stretch made him cry out, head snapping back. Thanos’s head fell against the wall with a muted thud, a deep groan ripping from his chest. “Shit, baby, you’re perfect…”

Namgyu started slow but deep, letting himself drop fully with each bounce, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. His hands braced on Thanos’s chest, nails scraping over hard muscle, and his moans got louder, sharper with every thrust downward. Soon, the pace quickened, hips snapping, thighs working hard, the head of Thanos’s cock brushing exactly where Namgyu needed it. His cries turned into helpless, high-pitched sounds, every bounce wringing him tighter.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Thanos groaned, sitting up to mouth at Namgyu’s neck, biting down hard enough to make him gasp. “Ride me, baby. Fuck yourself on me.”

“I– ah– Hyung–” Namgyu choked out, his rhythm stuttering as the pleasure built to a breaking point.

“Don’t stop now,” Thanos urged, one hand sliding between them to wrap firmly around Namgyu’s cock, stroking in time with the bounces. The combined friction tore a sharp, broken moan from Namgyu’s throat, his whole body trembling as he rode harder, chasing release with reckless abandon.

Namgyu’s rhythm faltered, his thighs quivering from the effort, but the heat between them only burned hotter. Each drop onto Thanos’s cock felt like it carved deeper into him, the stretch and fullness almost unbearable.

“Hyung!” His voice broke on the word, needy and trembling. “I’m– ah– I’m so close.”

Thanos’s mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin. His hand on Namgyu’s cock eased, stroking just lightly enough to keep him hovering. “Yeah? You gonna come for me?”

Namgyu’s head nodded frantically, sweat dripping down his temple. “Please, please don’t stop.”

But Thanos did slow, hips rocking up in short, deliberate thrusts that made Namgyu shiver with frustration. “Not yet, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze around me first. Want you shaking apart on my cock.”

The words made Namgyu’s whole body jolt, a breathless moan spilling from his lips. He rolled his hips in tiny circles, trying to drag himself over that razor’s edge, the head of Thanos’s cock pressing perfectly against his prostate with every grind. Thanos’s free hand gripped the back of his neck, pulling him forward until their foreheads touched. His voice was low, hot against Namgyu’s mouth. “You sound so sweet when you’re desperate.”

Namgyu gasped, his fingers digging into Thanos’s shoulders. “Hyung, I can’t–”

“Shh… you can.” Thanos squeezed his thigh, guiding him into a slower, deeper bounce that made Namgyu cry out. “You’re gonna milk me first, baby. I’m gonna feel you up so good and then I’ll let you come.”

Namgyu whimpered at the command, his body obeying despite the ache in his muscles, every drop down making him feel fuller, tighter, more stretched. The wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the air, each movement heavier with the tension coiling in both of them.

Thanos’s grip on Namgyu’s hips turned bruising, his rhythm breaking into hard, erratic thrusts from below. His jaw was tight, breath ragged against Namgyu’s cheek. “Fuck, baby.” Thanos’s voice cracked, low and sharp. “I’m gonna–”

Namgyu barely had time to brace before Thanos slammed up into him one last time, his whole body locking tight as he spilled deep inside. The heat of it poured into Namgyu in thick pulses, and his own moan broke high and shaky at the sensation.

“Hyung!” Namgyu’s fingers clutched at Thanos’s shoulders like he’d drown without the anchor. He could feel it, every throb, every rush of hot release spreading inside him, filling him until it almost hurt. The stretch, the heat, the sheer claiming of it was too much. 

That was all it took. His body seized, the orgasm ripping through him so hard it left his vision white at the edges. His cock jerked between them, painting Thanos’s chest and abs in long, messy ropes of cum, each spurt wrung from him with a desperate cry.

Thanos’s hand was there instantly, stroking him through the last few pulses, milking every drop while still buried deep inside. “Fuck, look at you…” Thanos rasped, gaze locked on Namgyu’s blissed-out face. “So fucking beautiful when you come.” Namgyu collapsed forward against him, still trembling, the warm mess between their bodies and the molten heat inside him making him feel almost dizzy. Thanos’s breathing was still rough against Namgyu’s ear when his hands slid to Namgyu’s hips, holding him steady as he started to ease out.

But Namgyu’s fingers shot down to his wrists, stopping him with a shaky grip. “Wait,” he whispered, voice raw from moaning. “Just… a little longer. Please, hyung.”

Thanos froze, eyes searching his face. Namgyu’s cheeks were still flushed, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded but pleading. A slow, almost reverent smile curved Thanos’s mouth. “Fuck… you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

He sank back into the bed, pulling Namgyu flush against his chest again, keeping himself buried deep. One hand smoothed slow circles into Namgyu’s back, the other cupping the back of his neck to keep him close. Namgyu sighed at the warmth and fullness, his body relaxing bit by bit as their heartbeats synced. The soft pulse of Thanos still inside him made him shiver.

“Feels good like this,” Namgyu murmured, barely above a whisper.

Thanos kissed the side of his head. “Feels perfect.”

They stayed like that, not moving, just breathing each other in, Thanos rubbing small, soothing patterns into his skin while Namgyu let the aftershocks fade with Thanos’s cock still keeping him full.

Thanos finally eased out with a soft groan, catching Namgyu’s little whimper at the loss. “We can’t sleep like that, baby,” he murmured, brushing a kiss over Namgyu’s damp temple. “As much as I’d like to keep you stuffed all night, we’d both regret it in the morning.”

Namgyu pouted faintly, but his exhaustion made it lazy, almost cute. “Mm… fine…”

Thanos chuckled, kissing the corner of his mouth before sliding out of bed. “Come on. We’re not sleeping dirty either.” He padded into the bathroom, turning the faucet until the tub began to fill with steaming water. Namgyu followed slowly, still wobbly from earlier, and perched on the closed toilet lid. His eyelids drooped, head bobbing a little as if he might doze off right there.

Thanos crouched down in front of him, resting his arms on Namgyu’s knees so they were eye level. “Hey,” he said softly, searching Namgyu’s face. “You okay? Too sore?”

Namgyu shook his head with a sleepy smile. “Just… warm. Tired.”

“Good,” Thanos murmured, leaning forward to brush his lips against Namgyu’s cheek. “No pain?” Another kiss, this time to his jaw.

Namgyu’s eyes softened. “Not that kinda pain… you took care of me.”

The words hit Thanos deeper than he expected. He let out a quiet hum and began pressing slow, lazy kisses across Namgyu’s face, temple, cheek, and the bridge of his nose. That’s when he noticed it. “You’ve got freckles,” he said, smiling against his skin.

Namgyu blinked. “Yeah.”

“Mm-hm. Right here…” Thanos traced one near his cheekbone with the tip of his finger before kissing it gently. “And here…” Another, just above his lip. “Pretty,” he murmured between each kiss, dotting them one by one as if mapping a secret constellation only he knew.

Namgyu’s lips parted, a faint blush rising under the attention. “You’re ridiculous…” Thanos just grinned. The tub gurgled softly behind them as the steam curled up around their faces, turning the whole bathroom into a warm, hazy cocoon.

When the tub was full and steaming, Thanos stood and reached for Namgyu’s hands. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you in before you fall asleep sitting there.”

Namgyu let himself be pulled up, moving slowly, almost shy under the way Thanos looked at him. His heart thumped, both from the warmth of the water and the quiet intensity of the moment. Thanos helped him settle into the bath, settling behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist.

The water rippled softly around them as Thanos’s hands moved slowly over Namgyu’s shoulders after a while, washing away more than just the night’s sweat and tension. Namgyu’s head rested lightly against Thanos’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“So,” Namgyu began, voice low and hesitant, “what do you think happens now? After tonight.”

Thanos paused, fingers tracing lazy circles on Namgyu’s skin. “I don’t know. I mean, we don’t know each other that well but… I like you, more than I expected. But I’m not sure how to do this… with everything going on.”

Namgyu’s eyes flicked up, searching. “You mean the age difference?”

Thanos nodded slowly. “Yeah. You’re just starting out, and I’ve been around longer. I don’t want to mess things up for you.”

Namgyu swallowed, then shrugged, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips. “I get that. Honestly, I’m not even sure where I’m headed myself. I’m still in high school, last year, but still. I’ve thought about dropping out, to be honest. I don’t really go anymore. But, I don’t think you’d be messing anything to be honest.”

Thanos’s fingers tightened slightly in a comforting squeeze, but his voice was firm. “You lied to me.”

Namgyu’s cheeks flushed. “I didn’t want you to think I was some kid. I am eighteen. I just had to retake a year. That’s the only reason I’m still there.”

Thanos exhaled slowly and gave a tired smile. “Alright. Just promise me you’ll be straight with me. I don’t want surprises.”

“I promise,” Namgyu said softly. They were quiet for a moment, the warm water and closeness filling the space between their words. “So,” Namgyu said after a while, “do you think this is just… casual? Or could it be something more?”

Thanos considered, fingers brushing over Namgyu’s side. “I guess… I want it to be something more. But I’m not gonna rush you, and we also need to get to know each other better than just sex, you know? We’ll take it slow. We figure it out together.”

Namgyu smiled against Thanos’s skin, feeling something fragile and hopeful stir inside him. “That sounds nice. Like… maybe we could be real, even if it’s messy.”

Thanos’s voice dropped to a low, almost tender growl. “Messy’s okay. I’m not perfect, and neither are you. But I want to try.”

Namgyu’s breath hitched. “Me too, hyung.” Thanos’s hands had barely settled when Namgyu felt the familiar pressure growing against his back. He shifted slightly and smirked. “God, you’re like a sex addict. Did you just get hard from me calling you ‘hyung’?”

Thanos chuckled low in his throat, breath warm against Namgyu’s ear as he peppered soft kisses along his neck. “I can’t help it, okay? It’s just… the way you say it. It’s so fucking hot.” He paused, pulling back just enough to meet Namgyu’s eyes. “We don’t have to do anything anymore if you don’t want to. I know you must be tired.”

Namgyu bit his lip, feeling the warmth of desire rekindling. Slowly, he turned around, sliding up to straddle Thanos’s lap. Their hardened cocks pressed together, sending a fresh wave of heat through both of them. 

Namgyu moaned softly, already hard again. “Maybe… just one more round?” he whispered, voice thick with want. He tilted his head, breath catching. “But probably better if it’s just a handjob. I’m not sore or anything, but if you go in again, I’ll definitely be sore in the morning.”

Thanos grinned, fingers already curling around Namgyu’s hips. “Smart boy. Alright, just a handjob then.”

Namgyu’s hands moved with slow confidence, wrapping around both their cocks, slick and warm against his palms. Thanos’s dick was definitely bigger, thicker and longer by a couple of centimeters, but Namgyu wasn’t exactly small himself. His length was just right, perfectly filling a hand, and the way it hardened in Namgyu’s grip only made it more tempting. They started to rock their hips gently, syncing their movements in a rhythmic dance, each stroke drawing out low groans and breathy whispers. Namgyu’s touch was firm but teasing, sliding up and down, rubbing them together as the heat built between them.

“Fuck, baby,” Thanos grunted, his voice rough and thick with desire. “Next time… you’re letting me fuck you doggy style. I wanna see that fat ass of yours all spread out, feel it clench around me.”

Namgyu’s cheeks flushed, but he grinned, the thrill of those words sending a shiver down his spine. “I’ll hold you to that, hyung,” he breathed, fingers tightening their pace just a little.

Thanos leaned forward, mouth near Namgyu’s ear. “You’re driving me crazy. So fucking wet for me, huh? Gonna make me lose it right here if you don’t slow down.”

Namgyu’s lips parted, breath hitching as he whispered, “Make me come first, then you can have me however you want.” The room filled with their ragged breathing, the slick sounds of Namgyu’s hand moving, and the electric pull of their dirty talk. 

Thanos’s eyes darkened with hunger as he leaned in, one hand trailing down to wrap around Namgyu’s length, replacing his hand. His strokes were fast and firm, perfectly timed to push Namgyu over the edge. “I’ll make you come first, baby, just like you asked,” Thanos growled low, voice thick with promise. His fist pumped with just enough pressure to have Namgyu whimpering, hips trembling beneath him. “Say my name when you come, remind me who you belong to.

Namgyu’s breath hitched, voice breaking as he gasped, “Thanos… hyung…”

Thanos didn’t slow down. “Gonna make you come, and then you’re gonna suck me off. I’m gonna mark that pretty little face of yours with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Namgyu nodded frantically, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “Don’t stop, hyung. I’m close, please.”

Without missing a beat, Thanos dipped his head, his mouth capturing one of Namgyu’s nipples in a fierce, teasing suck. His fingers tangled in Namgyu’s hair, tugging lightly as he whispered against his skin, “That’s it, baby. Let go for me.”

The sensation shattered Namgyu. His body convulsed, hot waves crashing over him as he spilled over Thanos’s hand, his moans raw and desperate. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, overwhelmed by the storm of pleasure and the relentless rhythm of Thanos’s hand pumping him dry long after his orgasm. Thanos kept moving, slow and steady, riding Namgyu through the aftershocks until the heat finally began to ebb away. 

Namgyu’s voice was soft but heavy with desire as he looked up at Thanos, a tired yet lustful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll return the favor,” he whispered, reaching out. “Stand up for me.”

Thanos shifted, his breath hitching as he slowly rose to his feet on unsteady legs, the heat between them pulsing with anticipation. Namgyu sank to his knees, eyes locking onto the thick, heavy cock already slick with precum, resting low and demanding. 

Taking a breath, Namgyu met Thanos’s gaze. “It’s my first time doing this,” he confessed quietly, cheeks flushing with both nerves and excitement. “Sorry if I’m not that good.”

Before Thanos could respond, Namgyu’s warm hand wrapped around the base of him. His tongue slid out, wet and slow, tracing the length from base to tip with a teasing lick. When he reached the head, he paused to press a tender kiss there, eyes flickering up to Thanos’s strained expression. 

A guttural groan escaped Thanos, his body trembling at the obscene sight. Then, without warning, Namgyu took the head into his mouth, lips soft and eager. The tight warmth and slick heat left Thanos breathless, fingers immediately latching onto Namgyu’s hair, without pushing. Namgyu set a slow, deliberate pace, swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip, while one hand continued to pump the length that wouldn’t fit inside his mouth. Each gentle suck and careful stroke pulled a low moan from Thanos, the tension building between them like a storm ready to break.

Namgyu’s lips tightened around Thanos’s tip, the warmth and slickness driving a thrill straight through both of them. His hand moved in perfect rhythm, slow and steady, coaxing pleasure from every inch he couldn’t take.

Thanos’s breathing hitched, voice rough and low. “Fuck, baby... just like that. You’re driving me crazy.”

Namgyu pulled back slightly, eyes dark with mischief and hunger. “Tell me what you want, hyung. I want to hear your voice.”

Thanos’s fingers tangled deeper in Namgyu’s hair, gripping gently but possessively. “I want you to take me deep. Don’t hold back, baby. I want to feel every inch of that pretty mouth.”

Namgyu’s tongue flicked over the head again before slowly sliding down, taking more of him inside as he began to bob his head lightly. “Like this?” he murmured, voice thick with arousal.

“God, yes...” Thanos groaned, his hips twitching against Namgyu’s mouth. “You’re so fucking good at this. Makes me want to fuck you all over again.”

Namgyu grinned around him, hands steady as he matched the pace Thanos’s body demanded, slow, deliberate, worshipful. “I’m just getting started, hyung.”

Thanos’s eyes darkened with lust, his hips rolling forward, pushing deeper into Namgyu’s mouth. “Then show me, baby. Make me lose control.” Namgyu’s throat tightened around him, the slick heat pulling at his senses as he kept up the slow, sensual rhythm, every motion loaded with promise.

Namgyu’s hand moved faster now, slick and sure, pumping Thanos’s length with steady pressure while his mouth worked the tip with expert care. Every flick of his tongue sent shivers down Thanos’s spine, fingers tightening in Namgyu’s hair as he fought to hold back the storm rising inside him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me…” Thanos groaned, voice ragged. His hips jerked involuntarily, pressing deeper, seeking more of that sweet, warm grip. “Just like that... don’t stop...”

Namgyu pulled back just enough to catch his breath, lips swollen and glistening, eyes locked on Thanos’s, dark and heavy with desire. “Tell me how much you want it, hyung,” he whispered, voice low and teasing, “Tell me what I’m doing to you.”

Thanos’s breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re making me lose my fucking mind, baby. Every inch of you is driving me wild. I’m so close... but I’m not giving it to you yet. Not until you’re begging.”

Namgyu smiled, he leaned in, trailing a slow kiss along Thanos’s shaft, before returning to that slow, sinful rhythm, taking him deep again. Thanos groaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut as the tension built unbearably tight, teetering on the edge but not yet falling over. The delicious torment made everything sharper, hotter, their connection electric and raw.

Namgyu’s breath hitched as he slowed just enough to look up, eyes wide and pleading. “Please, hyung… please let me make you come. I want to taste you.” His voice was soft, almost desperate, the raw need laid bare.

Thanos’s gaze darkened with heat. “Keep sucking, be a good boy for me. I’ll give it to you when you earn it.” His hand tightened in Namgyu’s hair, guiding the rhythm, pushing him deeper into that delicious torment. Minutes passed, filled with wet sounds and heavy breathing, until Thanos’s voice dropped to a growl, thick with promise. “I’m close, baby. You’re driving me insane.”

Slowly, Thanos pulled free, his cock slick and glistening. His hand wrapped around himself, pumping hard and fast, until with a guttural moan, he spilled over Namgyu’s flushed, pink face. The contrast was striking, Namgyu’s soft, blushing skin coated in thick, sticky white.

“God, you look so fucking pretty,” Thanos breathed, his eyes dark and hungry. “I wish I could take a picture of you right now.”

Namgyu wiped a trembling finger across his cheek, smearing the cum a little, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Guess you’ll have to remember it then,” he murmured. Thanos chuckled, thumb sliding to gather the creamy mess, guiding it to Namgyu’s parted lips. “Next time, I want it in my mouth, hyung.”

Thanos laughed softly, eyes sparkling mischievously. “You’re hilarious,” he teased, grinning and shaking his head. “Just wait, kid. You’re in for one hell of a ride.”

The tension between them slowly melted away, replaced by a quiet warmth. Thanos reached for the bath faucet and turned on the warm water as he emptied the bathtub, the gentle hiss filling the small room. He offered a hand to Namgyu, who hesitated a moment before accepting and standing up, the water cascading over their skin, washing away the night’s intensity.

Thanos’s hands moved carefully, massaging away any lingering aches. He lathered shampoo into Namgyu’s hair, fingers gentle and slow, fingertips tracing the lines of his scalp. Namgyu closed his eyes, leaning into the touch, feeling safe and cared for in a way that made his heart pulse softer.

When the water finally slowed and they stepped out, Namgyu shivered slightly in the cool air. Thanos wrapped a large, soft towel around him, then disappeared briefly into his bedroom. He returned holding a clean, oversized t-shirt and a pair of loose boxers, setting them down on the edge of the bed.

“Here,” Thanos said quietly, voice rough from the night. “Sleep in these. They’re mine, but they’ll fit you.”

Namgyu’s fingers brushed the fabric, cheeks flushing again. “Thanks,” he murmured, already feeling the comfort the soft cotton promised.

Thanos shed his damp towel and settled into a pair of loose, worn pants, deliberately skipping boxers. The cool fabric brushed against his skin as he climbed into bed, pulling Namgyu close. Namgyu slid beneath the covers, curling into the warmth of the sheets. Thanos wrapped his arms around him, big and protective, the steady beat of his heart grounding Namgyu’s restless thoughts. Thanos’s chest pressing softly against Namgyu’s back, fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along his ribs, as if this were something they had done a hundred times before.

The world outside faded, the night’s chaos replaced by the calm rhythm of breathing and the gentle press of bodies fitting together. Namgyu’s eyelids grew heavy as the warmth wrapped around him like a shield, the softness of Thanos’s touch promising safety. And as sleep finally claimed them both, the last thing Namgyu felt was the quiet certainty that, maybe, this was exactly where he was meant to be.