Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The apartment’s quiet when Yoongi gets home. And that only ever happens when…

“Hoseok-ah’s not here for the night?” he asks as soon as he spots Namjoon on the couch. Namjoon slowly looks up, his features tired, but lights up the moment Yoongi comes into view. Yoongi practically basks in his attention as he puts his shopping bags onto the kitchen counter and unfurls the scarf he got from Namjoon.

“Yeah, he’s sleeping at Taehyung-ah’s place today, but he’ll be back in the morning. Said ‘at least they can be loud there’ and looked at me like it was my fault they can’t be loud here.” Namjoon notes with a furrow of his brow. Of course he would. Hoseok is not the petty type, but he likes his jabs more than anything. Yoongi snorts.

“Not our fault the walls are thin. We can’t risk the neighbour calling the police again.”

It happened last week. Namjoon and Yoongi had decided to group together and settle in the living room for the night, because from experience, when Taehyung came over, Yoongi wasn’t going to get much sleep, having to share a wall with Hoseok. Namjoon, the saint of a man he is, took pity on him and coaxed Yoongi out of his room to watch a film. They had tried to swallow the sound of moaning and banging by putting the TV on maximum volume…

…but Hoseok and Taehyung were loud.

So loud in fact, that the old neighbour who had to share a wall with Hoseok had finally had enough and called the police on them. The fucking police.

“We’re so sorry.” Hoseok stammered with crimson cheeks to the officers while Yoongi and Namjoon each busted a lung out in the living room, their laughter doing nothing to help Hoseok’s predicament. Taehyung buried his face in his hands in shame. “It will never happen again.”

So now Hoseok spent a good majority of his nights at his boyfriend’s place, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi alone in the evenings. Like today.

“God, I don’t think I’ll ever forget Hobi’s face.”

Yoongi’s grin was shit eating. “Me neither. And Hoseok-ah is a fool if he thinks I’ll ever let him forget either.”

Namjoon laughs with him, voice following him down the hallway to his room, where Yoongi changes into something more comfortable.

“Oh, by the way.” Yoongi says as he comes back. “I grabbed some instant tteokbokki on my way home. I’m way too tired to make dinner.”

“That’s okay. How come you stayed in this late?”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips. He’s so tired. “A high-profile solo idol wants to switch to BigHit as soon as possible because his previous management company wasn’t agreeing with his “artistic vision”, so Bang PD gave me about an album’s worth of unfinished music of his to study. He really wants this idol.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Ugh, had to listen to it in one sitting?”

“And I had to give suggestions to every piece so the artist can make sure he’ll be compatible here.” Yoongi rubs his face with both hands. “I just don’t understand what couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning.”

“We’ve already established that Bang PD is crazy.” Namjoon notes, his mouth in a frown. “Come here.” he pats the couch next to him.

Okay, so Yoongi has to uphold a reputation, and that’s the only reason he doesn’t practically throw himself over the couch onto Namjoon’s lap. He’s a cool guy. Which is why he rounds the couch slowly, deliberately.

The fact that he sits down directly onto Namjoon’s lap is an accident. He swears it is.

Namjoon immediately wraps his hands around him and nuzzles into Yoongi’s neck, a low, happy growl bubbling up in his chest. It almost sounds like an omega’s purr, Yoongi thinks offhandedly.

“Someone’s clingy.” He notes, but it was more out of fondness than exasperation.

“Mmm.” Namjoon answers. “You would be too, if your boyfriend looked as cuddly as mine.”

Yoongi stares at him in disbelief, his eyes travelling down from Namjoon’s face to his shoulders, down to his pecks that look like both the comfiest pillows in the world and the sturdiest brick walls that Yoongi ever got the chance to see. Damn, Namjoon really needs to lay off going to the gym.

“Yeah no. You won’t win this battle.” Yoongi notes dryly. “I will fight you to the death if this is your way of implying you’re not cuddly-looking.”

Namjoon’s grin is so soft and warm that it curls around Yoongi like his favourite blanket. “That means I get to keep cuddling you for the rest of the night, right?”

“Brat.” Yoongi huffs, but his voice is interlaced with fondness. “Of course, it does.” He pats Namjoon’s chest lovingly. “But we cannot fall asleep here.” He motions his head over the whole couch. “Hoseok-ah will never let us live it down.” Maybe he’s overplaying it, but he shudders and makes a face. The fucker has been, for the better part of the last six weeks Yoongi and Namjoon have been seeing each other…how should Yoongi put it delicately? Ah yes - so fucking insufferable it’s not even funny.  He would cheer if they interlaced their fingers, and wolf-whistle at the shy little kisses they give each other in passing in the studio, and it seriously drives Yoongi mad.

The most mortifying ordeal was when Yoongi and Namjoon were in the middle of a heated make-out session on the couch of Namjoon’s studio, and Hoseok barged in, entirely by accident. The sight greeting him left him speechless (a first for Hoseok) but then he turned around and left, all the while screaming at the top of his lungs about ‘his poor innocent eyes.’

It was also the day when literally every single soul at BigHit found out that Yoongi and Namjoon were no longer just co-workers.

Yoongi can’t say he enjoyed the lecture he got from Bang PD, but he really freaking enjoyed Karma in the form of police officers.

Getting caught like that is embarrassing, sure, but not more than getting the fucking police called on you. Payback was sweet, but come on, that fiasco alone is enough to make anyone paranoid. With his luck Hoseok would take pictures of them asleep, and no way is Yoongi going to let him have blackmail material that easily.

He should work for it, like the rest of them.

“I mean we sort of owe him.” Namjoon notes while he begins drawing sweet circles on Yoongi’s middle. “He helped me a lot when I was struggling with my feelings for you. He gave me the courage to go for it. For you.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes to mask the flare of adoration for the both of them. “That means you owe him.” Yoongi stands, stretching his limbs and ignoring the pain flaring up in his left shoulder. “Do not drag me down with you.”

“Does that mean we’re not in this together?” Namjoon jokes, as Yoongi rounds the kitchen, but there is the teeniest bit of something that feels off. Like the question is not just a little joke.

Yoongi makes eye-contact with him and holds it. He wants Namjoon to know he means it when he says, “I would bury a body for you, Namjoon-ah.” which makes Namjoon’s eyes grow wide. “And then lie to the police.”

“Criminal.” Namjoon says, like that’s a good thing. Yoongi figures it is.

“…but I will not provide the second greatest menace I know material to tease me. I have a reputation.”

Namjoon squeaks out a laugh. “Second greatest? Who’s the first?”

Yoongi grins, “Jiminie, naturally.” then disappears in the kitchen to prepare the instant tteokbokkis.

When Yoongi comes back, Namjoon has already opened their joint Netflix account (which is actually Yoongi’s, but he lives with a pair of freeloaders, so now in good communist fashion it was theirs) and is flipping through movies with a frown on his mouth.

“Nothing enticing?” Yoongi asks as he hands him the other cup and chopsticks.

“No.” Namjoon hums in discontent. “Literally everything here are things we have either seen or look horrible enough that we shouldn’t see.”

Yoongi snorts. “And here I thought you have an open mind…” His eyes pause on a particularly bad looking poster on the screen and winces. “…on a second note, maybe you’re right. They’re all trash.”

Namjoon’s head gives him a tiny nod without taking off his eyes from the screen. “Thank you. I wish we had ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’ in there.” He sighs in wishful thinking. It’s Namjoon’s all-time favourite movie.

Yoongi immediately shakes his head no, drawing in Namjoon’s eyes. “No way. We’d never hear from you ever again.” As much as he wants it, that is not an over exaggeration. Namjoon does tend to get lost in the things he loves. “You’d be stuck to the screen replaying that shit over and over.” Like the first time he had seen it.  

Namjoon smiles as he finally chooses a movie that they have seen before, but Yoongi can’t put his finger on the name. “you’re saying that like it wasn’t you who had to use the tissues because you were crying so m…” The rest of his word dies on his lips as Yoongi puts a hand up to his mouth, his cheeks aflame.

“We agreed to never talk about that.” he hisses in embarrassment. “So why are you talking about it?”

“I said nothing.” Namjoon notes with a dimpled smile, when Yoongi lowers his palm. He nods, satisfied.

“Good.”

They settle on the couch against each other, Namjoon’s hand around his shoulders while Yoongi’s hand rests on the alpha’s thighs, his clean, soapy scent filling Yoongi’s lungs to the brim. It’s such a shame that Namjoon still wears scent blockers when they’re in the studio because that means the only time Yoongi gets to really inhale his true scent is after Namjoon takes a shower in the evening.

On another hand, that may be a good thing productivity wise.

Around fifteen minutes into the movie, Yoongi still has no idea what it really is about, busy drawing tiny circles into Namjoon’s skin. He enjoys the way Namjoon sometimes squirms, trying to find a comfortable position, or just a distraction from Yoongi’s fingers and not finding any. Honestly, the main reason Yoongi is doing this is because with each tiny circle on his skin, the alpha’s scent gets stronger and stronger, and Yoongi is not a saint to leave him be, he’s too greedy for that. He wants that scent to drown him, preferably sooner than later.

Maybe he should risk it and go further up with his hands. That would be uncharted territory though, and he’s not sure how Namjoon will react to that. I mean, how bad his reaction can be? Yoongi thinks while munching along his lower lip. It’s not like Namjoon would throw him off. Yoongi may be a bit dense occasionally, but even he can’t ignore the way sometimes Namjoon looks at him, dark brown eyes almost red with hunger, and thinking if he could eat me up, he would.

He wants Yoongi just as much as Yoongi wants him. He should definitely risk it. Luck is always on his side, anyway. He took the risk of studying music against his parent’s wishes and ended up as a renowned producer. He took the risk and turned away from all the older, wealthy suitors his parents tried to push on him as a teen, accepting that maybe he’ll never find a partner, and here he is, a decade later, almost in the lap of a teddy-bear of a man with the biggest, softest heart Yoongi has ever gotten the chance to meet.

He took the risk of giving chance to a secret admirer, and it turned out to be his best friend.

Yoongi is definitely blessed by the universe. The planets must have aligned at his birth, or something.

So, he takes the risk now, and pushes his hand further up Namjoon’s thigh, pushing the hem of his shorts with it. He feels more than hears the way Namjoon’s breath catches, and for a solid ten seconds, the steady rise of breath against his ear  is absent. When he does feel it, it comes out a little ragged, which, good. Namjoon definitely understands where Yoongi’s hand is headed.

Neither of them is concentrating on the movie anymore. He can tell by the way Namjoon’s scent turns impossibly sweet. Yoongi is playing with the supple skin of his thigh, pinching it on a whim and his inner wolf practically purrs when Namjoon’s hand tightens on his shoulder. It can be a warning, but who is Yoongi if he doesn’t go against it?

In a strategic move, Yoongi lifts his hand away from Namjoon’s thigh, and stretches, letting his joints pop (ignoring the painful one in his shoulder), but he doesn’t put his hand back on the middle of Namjoon’s thigh. He puts it right next to where Namjoon’s erection should be, his fingers restlessly drumming against the material of the alpha’s shorts.

He’s about to go for the kill when Namjoon, with the speed of light, circles a hand around his wandering wrist and holds it still. Yoongi finally takes his eyes off the screen to turn to Namjoon, and it’s incredibly satisfying to see that he is watching Yoongi intently.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he asks shakily.

Yoongi tries his damn best to act innocent, but he has never been a good actor. “Me? I’m watching the movie.”

Namjoon stares and him, and there it is – that look of hunger that sends electricity down Yoongi with the speed of a freight train.

“Yeah? What happened so far?”

Shit. Uhh…Not a lot in fifteen minutes, right? That is usually just character introduction or world building. Right? “Nothing, really. I’m waiting for the story to really get going.” He isn’t talking about the movie.

“I’m sure you do.” Namjoon answers, voice strained.

Yoongi notices that that is not the only thing straining here. His hands never really stopped doing the rhythmical motions, and now he can clearly feel Namjoon’s erection, the material of his shorts doing nothing to hide it. He can’t take a look, but he knows that if he were to look down, he’d see the beginning of a tent in the alpha’s shorts.

He really fucking wants to put his mouth on it. He’s practically salivating from the thought, and he can feel slick slipping out of him. Slow for now, but it'll drench his underwear in no time. Namjoon can clearly smell it, the way his pupils dilate.

Oh, fuck it. He’s going for it. Yoongi grabs Namjoon through the shorts and basks in the way a surprised squeak makes it out of him, then a choked-back moan.

“How invested are you in this movie?” Yoongi asks while slowly, painfully slowly, he begins to move his hand up and down, pleasuring Namjoon through the fabric. Namjoon’s eyes follow the motion and lets go of Yoongi’s wrist to muffle another moan with his free hand.

“Why?” Namjoon pants.

Yoongi licks his lips and raises himself a little, so he can whisper in Namjoon’s ear, “Because I won’t go further if you are.”

“No please!” Namjoon keens immediately. “Please go further! I mean, if you want to, I have no idea what is going on in this movie, please please please Yoongi-hyung…”

His words die as Yoongi leans in for a kiss, his mouth pliant against Yoongi’s demanding one. It soon turns into an open-mouthed kiss, their tongues exploring each other’s mouth, Namjoon offering up himself up just for Yoongi; pleasing a very primal part of him.

Meanwhile Yoongi takes advantage of the clear permission he has been given, and slips his hand under the shorts, playing with the hem of Namjoon’s boxers before pushing past it, lower.

Namjoon makes a high-pitched sound into the kiss and tenses, his hand around Yoongi’s shoulders drops until it's resting around the omega’s lower back, lifting his shirt and squeezing the skin.

Yoongi’s had enough. He tries pushing Namjoon’s sweatpants and underwear down, which prompts the alpha to lift his hips to help him. He shoves the fabric down to Namjoon’s mid-thighs, freeing his length, and holy fuck, it looks even more delicious than it did in his fantasies, though it made Yoongi wonder, “Is this thing going to fit in me?”

Namjoon winces and his ears grow red, which is a feat in in itself considering how flushed out he is from the heat between the two of them. “Is this supposed to be a compliment?” he asks, biting his lower lip, looking at Yoongi hopefully.

“For sure.” Yoongi eyes one of the prominent veins. He is this close to just skip the whole foreplay thing and jump Namjoon right here and right now. “But I’m not sure I’ll survive sitting on it.”

Yoongi is honest to God a little bit worried, because Namjoon is…well. Well endowed?

Namjoon huffs out a soft, squeaky laugh and begins massaging Yoongi’s lower back, the motion soothing him. “I mean… you know the number of the emergency services and so do I.”

“Yah.” Yoongi burst out, baffled. “You really think your dick is so good it can land me in the ER?”

Namjoon erupts in laughter, and Yoongi really can’t help himself – he’s grinning alongside him. “You are the one who’s not sure if ‘you’ll survive sitting on that.’”

“Emotionally, Joon-ah,” he pats the alpha’s thighs. “I won’t survive it emotionally.”

“I don’t think I believe you, but sure.” Namjoon chuckles. “How do you want to do this?”

Yoongi has had this image stuck in his head for the past week, and by God he is going to do it, and nothing can stop him. “Let’s start with sixty-nine?”

Namjoon whimpers. “Yes, please.”

After ridding themselves of clothes (Namjoon really fucking needs to slow down at the gym because Yoongi was not aware he had a six pack.) He almost asks Namjoon to lay down when the alpha presses a kiss to the juncture of his neck and left shoulder and asks, “Will you lay down? I don’t want to hurt your shoulder by having you lean on it.”

Which okay. Isn’t melting Yoongi’s heart at all. No.

Okay, why the fuck is Namjoon so attentive, and where was he when Yoongi was in his alpha-boy-toy phase in college? The one that made him swear off of dating? Where the fuck was he?

Yoongi lays down on the couch, and not so secretly ogles Namjoon’s naked body as he climbs over him, surprisingly mindful of where he was putting his long limbs. Yoongi sort of expected him to accidentally kick something in their vicinity.

Or worse, Yoongi himself.

Once Namjoon settles over him, Yoongi is face-to-face with the alpha’s length, and he wastes no time to lay sweet kitten licks alongside it. Namjoon lets out a deep, guttural moan, one that shakes Yoongi to the bones, and in the next second, he can feel Namjoon’s mouth enclosing the head of Yoongi’s length, following a vein there with his tongue.

The living room fills with the sounds of slurping and squelching, sometimes accompanied by whimpers and choked back moans and it’s one of the most beautiful music Yoongi has ever heard. He takes Namjoon’s length in his mouth again, trying his best to lift his head to swallow more and more, and the alpha lets out the loveliest little cry, doubling down and taking Yoongi in one go, to the hilt. Yoongi lets go of Namjoon’s length to throw back his head in pleasure, a hiss escaping his lips while slick leaks out of him.

“Finger me.” Yoongi hisses into the skin of Namjoon’s thigh around his shoulders. “Please, I need it, I really really need it Joon-ah.”

Namjoon presses a sweet kiss on Yoongi’s pelvic bone. “Lift your legs, baby.”

Once Yoongi lifts his legs and Namjoon has better access to his hole, he wastes no time in wiggling one finger in, leaving little trails of kisses along both of Yoongi’s inner thighs. At this point Yoongi is so focused on his pleasure that he cannot continue Namjoon’s blowjob, opting to using his hands instead. It earns him little whimpers that in themselves make the whole tiredness of the day worth it.

Yoongi drags his hands to the rhythm of Namjoon’s finger going in and out, speeding up when Namjoon wiggles in another finger. He has to slap a hand against his mouth when Namjoon opens the fingers wide, scissoring them, and almost faints when he feels the alpha’s mouth on his length again.

“How…” he chokes at a well-aimed jab right against his prostate. “How are you so good at this?”

Namjoon leaves with a sinful pop. “I’ve been told I’m good at multi-tasking.”

Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, and he feels more than sees Namjoon’s smile against his skin. “Whoever told you was right.”

Namjoon almost dives right back in, maybe to prove just how right that person was, but Yoongi pats his ass, affectionately, to get his attention, and the alpha looks back at him in question.

“If you keep doing that,” Yoongi whispers. “I’ll come prematurely. And I really want to sit on your dick.”

Namjoon grins, “What, can’t come twice?” which earns him a heavy slap on the ass, him guffawing in protest.

“I’m nearly thirty, I can’t exactly keep it up like a twenty-year-old!” Yoongi grumbles good naturedly, but a tiny, ugly part of him whispers that maybe Namjoon needs someone younger, someone with a bigger sexual appetite who can go multiple rounds. Yoongi has long passed that age where marathon sex is possible outside of his heat.

Perhaps Namjoon has noticed it in his tone. Or he doesn't even need to because he can tell where Yoongi’s thoughts are heading straight away, but nonetheless, he gets off of him and offers Yoongi his hand, smiling his softest, sweetest dimpled smile; Yoongi’s favourite.

“Come on, my bed is comfier than the couch.”

This is how Yoongi finds himself on Namjoon’s bed, on his stomach and panting, hands fisted in the dark bedsheets as Namjoon fingers him with three fingers, finishing off Yoongi’s prepping. Whenever Namjoon brushes at that sweet spot, Yoongi swears he sees stars, and while he understands the importance of a good stretching, he really needs Namjoon in him before he comes.

“Fuck, fuck fuck.” Yoongi pants. “I’m stretched enough, damnit, come here.”

He hears a little tear behind him, no doubt the alpha rolling on a condom, and then Namjoon climbs over him, chest against Yoongi’s back, settling on his elbows on the two sides of Yoongi’s body.

“You’re bossy.” Namjoon notes. “Feisty little thing.”

Yoongi gasps, because how dare he. In one breath he called Yoongi little and bossy, and that is unacceptable. In a swift motion, he pulls on Namjoon’s hand, and Namjoon falls over onto his side, squeaking in surprise.

“Oh, I’ll give you bossy.” Yoongi hisses. Namjoon wants to sit up, but Yoongi pushes him down, and interlocks their eyes. Namjoon looks wild, his hair mussed, and pupils dilated to the point where his iris is just a thin ring around it.

He braces himself against Namjoon’s hard pecks with one hand – Yoongi will be daydreaming about this moment for the next few weeks for sure – and with the other he grasps Namjoon’s length and guides it to his hole, sinking down on it. They both have to muffle a loud moan.

Okay, so turns out, no amount of stretching could have prepared him for the real thing, because holy shit, he can feel Namjoon in his throat. It reaches places he doesn't even know he had. For a moment, Yoongi is paralyzed by the pleasure and pressure in his lower regions, and he desperately tries to relax his muscles to adjust. He tries to lift himself a little, to relieve the pressure, but his hands are shaking so much it makes it almost impossible.

“Hey,” Namjoon whispers, hands on Yoongi’s hips. “Are you okay?”

“It’s…it’s been a while.” Yoongi admits breathlessly. “I’ll be fine. Give me a minute.”

Namjoon lifts one of the shaking hands off of his chest to press a kiss against his inner wrist. “How can I help?”

“Lift me a bit?”

Namjoon obediently lifts Yoongi, feeling the drag of the alpha’s length every inch along the way. He almost slips out, but before he could, Namjoon steadies Yoongi’s hips in the air, so the tip stays in. Yoongi takes a deep breath.

“Be careful.” Namjoon whispers. “I was just joking about having to call the emergency services. I really don’t want to.” he adds, making Yoongi chuckle.

“I mean, what a way to get admitted.” Yoongi says, watching as Namjoon huffs a little in mirth. “And that shit would stay on my medical record.” Yoongi makes a face of fake-horror. “Oh, hell no. I will not be known among my doctors as that one omega who got sent to the ER because of a dick.” Namjoon shakes in silent laughter under him, his eyes almost disappearing.

Yoongi slowly sinks back down, not nearly as overwhelmed as before.

“I think I’ll be okay.” he adds, just to qualm any doubt Namjoon might have. Namjoon’s grip on his hips relaxes and travels down to the top of his thighs instead. Yoongi finally sinks back down again to the hilt and stays there a little. Namjoon’s eyes, which have been roaming around his body, lift up to his own, and Yoongi can see nothing but endless waves of fondness and hunger, which, okay, it makes him feel real good. Nobody has ever looked at him this way. He looks like he wants to flip them over and really fuck into Yoongi, but is restraining himself, for Yoongi’s sake, earning him a kiss on the lips and a bite on the neck.

He slowly lifts himself again and takes up a languid pace, bouncing on Namjoon’s lap. Soon, every nerve ending in his body is alight. His muscles are burning from the strain and he grows more breathless as the orgasm creeps closer and closer, but Yoongi feels great. He feels powerful. Namjoon lets him dictate every move, and that boosts Yoongi’s confidence a whole lot.

In a fit of want, Yoongi grasps both of Namjoon’s wrists in one hand and pins them over his head, just to see what happens. Would Namjoon try and wrestle himself out of his hold – he definitely could, if he wanted to – or would he be pliant and obedient? Both options are very welcomed.

Namjoon’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ but he keeps his hands there.

“Be a good boy and keep those hands together for me.” Yoongi pants in his ear.

“Yes,” Namjoon whimpers. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Mmm.” Yoongi nuzzles against Namjoon’s jaw and sucks the skin right under it. He bites, not enough to leave indents, but enough to leave the skin sensitive. Namjoon positively keens. Yoongi senses the struggle going on in him to stay still, but he manages. “What an alpha.” He notes, and almost moans out loud when he feels Namjoon twitch in him.

The pace grows desperate as Yoongi nears his orgasm, his free fingers raking down on Namjoon’s chest. He is incredibly lucky that Yoongi keeps his nails short, otherwise Yoongi surely would have drawn blood. For now, he’ll be content with the angry red lines decorating the alpha’s chest. Nobody would be able to see it, but Yoongi knows they’re gonna be there, nonetheless.

Namjoon throws his head back against the pillows. “I’m close.”

“Me too.” Yoongi pants. “I’m right there. Right fucking there, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

Namjoon keens, his voice quiet but that doesn’t dampen the fact that Yoongi is going to remember that sound for the rest of his life. “Ah, ah, ah, hyung, hyung, hyung!” Namjoon suddenly encloses one ass cheek in an iron grasp and begins lifting his hips to meet Yoongi’s while also pushing him down, the force rattling both of them. Namjoon reaches so impossibly deep like this that it takes two, maybe slaps to make Yoongi come, his vision going white and his mind absolutely blank. He’s floating away, somewhere far away, the pleasure finally unravelling his tense muscles wave after wave.

He’s partially aware that Namjoon keeps snapping his hips upward, then with a shaky lift, the alpha tenses under him, his thighs shaking from the force of his orgasm.

They stay like that, as if Namjoon had knotted them together, but a tiny, disappointed voice in Yoongi’s head confirms that he has not.

It’s okay, though. He will, someday. Yoongi’s sure of it.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but after a while his whole body feels like lead, and it takes everything to not just flop onto the side and fall asleep.

Oh god, he really is the old man Jimin says he is. When was the time when he could practically do a second round right after the first? He reached a point in life where sex makes him sleepy, for fuck’s sake.

It must be all downhill from here, the thinks offhandedly.

“Hyung.” Namjoon whispers. “Come on, baby. Let me lift you off.”

“Mmmkay.” Yoongi yawns. He lets Namjoon slowly guide him off of him, and for an uncomfortable moment, his slick runs down his thighs, before Namjoon stops it with his fingers.

“I’ll bring a washcloth, okay?” Namjoon presses a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, and while Yoongi would never admit it, he practically melts under the gesture. “I’ll clean you off.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi hums softly.

Namjoon cleans him off as if Yoongi’s one of the vases they see at art exhibitions, with so much gentleness and care that Yoongi really has to fight down the purr bubbling up in his chest. Once he’s free from his bodily fluids, he flops onto his stomach and hugs the pillow closest to him. Namjoon leaves the room for a bit, and Yoongi is about to tear him a new one, because aftercare, hello? That’s the number one rule after sex?

Namjoon returns with their clothes they had shed in the living room. Oh.

“Can’t let the second-best menace have blackmail material, am I right?” Namjoon jokes.

“Good thinking. I completely forgot about them.”

“I know. You look like you’re about a minute away from falling asleep.”

Yoongi yawns. “Such is the life of a rock.”

The way Namjoon smiles, content and happy, and so in love, makes Yoongi’s chest flutter. “You still reading that book?”

Yoongi snorts. “What do you take me for? Of course, I do.” He makes grabby hands towards the alpha as he settles under the covers, and Namjoon cuddles up to him, their chests touching. God he is so warm.

Namjoon nuzzles Yoongi’s forehead, and Yoongi slings a possessive hand around Namjoon’s waist, squeezing it. Namjoon whispers into the dark, “I’m just happy you’re still using it.” and presses a kiss right between his eyebrows.

Yoongi pushes himself against Namjoon, so now their fronts are completely touching, from head to toe, everything. “I wasn’t lying when I said there are some good meditation exercises in there. It helps my shoulder a whole lot.” He wiggles his left shoulder against Namjoon as he lifts a hand there to massage the spot.

“And the mug too.” Yoongi adds. “After you destroying every single one I had.”

Namjoon lets out a hum, and the heat from his cheeks tell Yoongi everything he needs to know – even in the dark, it’s clear Namjoon is embarrassed. “Listen, they were all accidents.” He starts.

Yoongi pats Namjoon’s back. “It always is with you. There is a reason why we won’t get the deposit back from the landlord.”

“Yah.” Namjoon squeaks, “Not everything unlucky happening here is my doing.”

Yoongi pulls back a little to stare at the dark Namjoon shaped blob. “I hope you are aware that I have noted down every single instance you destroyed something in this house, starting from you tearing the door of the fridge down when we moved in, to the literal house fire you caused two months ago.”

Namjoon’s hand leaves him, probably to bury his face in them in shame. “When will you let me live it down…?”

“Never,” Yoongi answers, smiling his gummy smile. “You’re so smart and handsome, the universe had to balance you out somehow.” They both bust out laughing, while Namjoon’s hand sneaks around him again.

They lapse into silence again after that, and the dark and Namjoon’s slow and steady breathing slowly lulls Yoongi into a drowsy state. He is about to fall asleep when Namjoon whispers into his ear, hesitant and nervous, which has Yoongi perking right back up.

“Tell me…was I too rough with you?”

…too rough? What? “No? You were perfect.” Yoongi pats Namjoon’s chest comfortingly.

“So I wasn’t too…overbearing? Too demanding?”

“Where is this coming from?” Yoongi asks suspiciously. “If anything, I think I was a bit too demanding. You don’t have to worry Joon-ah. Is something wrong?”

Namjoon shakes his head vigorously. “No, no. I just …I wanted to make sure that it was… as good for you as it was to me.”

Yoongi’s heart melts right into two. “Better than good.” He presses a kiss to the column of Namjoon’s throat. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Now I know you’re just lying.” Namjoon says with an eyeroll.  

“Fuck no. I’m not lying to anyone just to stroke their ego. Not now, not ever. You’d better remember that.”

Namjoon falls into contemplative silence, and Yoongi nods, satisfied. He got his point across.

It’s quiet after that, and Yoongi can pinpoint the moment when Namjoon finally falls asleep – he takes a deep breath in and when he breaths it out, he goes completely lax against Yoongi, his hands heavy around him.

Silly alpha, to think that he was overbearing. He’s the loveliest person Yoongi has ever met – he would never be overbearing, no matter how rough is.

~*~

Hoseok’s jaw goes slack. Yoongi really wants to stare him the fuck down, but then again, that would give Hoseok ample ammunition to embarrass him at ass-crack of dawn, and Yoongi has no patience for that.

Hoseok just takes a double take, like he isn’t sure that he saw it right, Yoongi coming out of Namjoon’s room. Then he grins. That stupid shit-eating grin. “Did you just come out of…?”

“My room? Yes. I live here too.” Yoongi says indifferently. He pours himself some coffee Hoseok has prepared.

Great start to the day. It’s not even 8 a.m. and Yoongi’s ready to throw hands with the first person he sees.

“I’m either super high or this is a Mandela effect, because I could have sworn that was Namjoonie’s room you came out of. And those are definitely not your clothes.”

“I’m sure you’re just high.” Yoongi murmurs, while taking a generous sip of the coffee. He’s needs it. “I came out of my room. These are my clothes.”

“Mmhmm.” Hoseok sits back and Yoongi is literally this close to murder on such a fine Thursday morning. “Are you feeling well, hyung?”

What? Is Yoongi looking sick? “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re not sore? Not limping?”

Yoongi puts down the mug Namjoon gave him as a courting gift onto the kitchen counter and straightens up abruptly. Hoseok, sensing imminent danger, immediately stands and bolts out of the kitchen, only stopping at the entrance door, with a considerable distance between him and Yoongi.

Good to know that Yoongi can still put the fear of God into people with one look on his face.

“And how was your night, Hoseokie?” Yoongi asks saccharine sweetly. “No angry neighbours? No police?”

“Oh, fuck you.” Hoseok laughs as his face burns. “You wish you were as awesome as me. Tell me how many people you know that got the police called on them.”

The nerve of this guy. If Yoongi greys prematurely, it’s going to be because of Hoseok. “Get out, you deviant.” Yoongi shoos him away with a wave of his hand. “I can’t believe you’re proud of that.”

He gets a flying kiss from Hoseok. “Proud? No. Accomplished? Yes.”

This is the moment Namjoon steps out of his room, (thus proving Yoongi wrong about it being his room) rubbing at his eyes sleepily and reeking of Yoongi’s scent. At least he had the decency to dress up into pyjamas, as if he had slept in them. But…but he definitely forgot looking into the mirror. His neck is covered with love bites. “Accomplished of what?”

Hoseok takes one look at him, from head to toe, and snorts so violently for a moment Yoongi thinks it must have hurt his throat.

“Oh yeah, I definitely won’t be the only one getting the police called on them in this apartment.”

“Hoseok-ah!”

~*~

This morning is already proving itself to be the prologue of a very fucking hellish day.

First, he spilled coffee on his favourite T-shirt, one of the white ones, because of fucking course it couldn’t be one of the hundred black ones Yoongi owns. Plus, Yoongi is not even home to throw it in the washing machine, so now he has to walk around with this stain for the rest of the day.

Fucking peachy.

Then Bang PD noticed him, and that never means anything good. Yoongi will never get back that hour and a half he spent with the main producer talking about literally nothing. He was just going on and on and on about the solo idol finally deciding on signing the contract with BigHit, and him coming as soon as his previous contract with the other agency runs out. Which Yoongi doesn’t really care about, to be honest. He’ll care about the kid when he is here.

Then his landlord called, and he didn’t even need to open his mouth, Yoongi knew it was going to be about that damn neighbour filing another complaint against them, because apparently, even Netflix on a little bit of volume is enough to blast the old bat’s eardrums out, now. Hoseok and Taehyung being loud? That’s a perfectly acceptable reason.  But come on, Netflix? The walls can’t be that thin. Both Namjoon and Hoseok were behaving like angels during the movie, barely saying a word to each other.

But also. They’re living in the middle of fucking Gangnam, does this woman really expect that at 8 p.m., everyone just goes to sleep? On a Sunday? Half of the neighbourhood is below thirty! Some people wake up at 8 p.m.!

And the worst of it all.

Even on a day like this, inspiration struck Yoongi, so he quickly sat down at his PC to write it down, to remember it. Just as he was about to save it, though, the thing fucking crashed. Like a full-on computer freeze, word wasn’t working anymore, the windows home button wasn’t working, no matter how hard he was pressing it, or quickly like a maniac, and when he was about to call a technician to fix it, the screen went black.

Yoongi, honest to God, wanted to scream his lungs out. Maybe he should have just left the building altogether when he had the chance. This day isn’t happening.

And now, this fucking meeting.

“The group still hasn’t got the fanbase to let them write their own lyrics.” Soyun, another producer and songwriter, barks. “One of the kids presented me his work, and it was a hot mess. Bang PD-nim, you can’t be serious about this. Why can’t we just go by the formula and let us write the songs for them?”

Bang PD sighs, for the hundredth time this meeting. “This industry is so focused on pushing out idols after idols, that they’re too busy to understand that those kids won’t build a lasting legacy at all. We have to make people invested in them. What better way is there, if not involving them with the writing process? People see that the band members are involved in what they’re singing.”

“Involved in no melody and shitty lyrics?” Soyun snaps back, in disbelief. She pushes her glasses up her nose so violently Yoongi thinks it must her nose bridge. She has always been a crude, aggressive alpha. That’s no way to talk to someone their elder, Yoongi thinks disapprovingly. Namjoon certainly doesn’t talk that way to anyone, let alone to the man who is essentially their boss, so it isn’t some sort of alpha sense of superiority.

It’s just a Soyun kind of superiority.

“The kid is about as talented at song writing as a piece of mouldy shoe.” Soyun continues, and Yoongi flinches from the volume of it. “He’s gonna ruin the chances of the whole group, if we put him on the songwriting team. He’s talentless.”

“Soyun-ssi, I think you forget that we’re talking about a nineteen-year-old boy.” Namjoon says gently. His whole disposition is calm and collected, and his voice is as sweet as honey. He’s clearly here to play the role of the mediator. “He has a lot of room to grow. I have seen the lyrics in question too, and while they’re not perfect, it’s workable. If…”

“Workable?” Soyun hisses. “It isn’t workable, Namjoon-ssi, it is scrapable, at best. Generic, forced, it has no rhythm, I can write something better than that in my sleep…”

Clearly, nobody is really interested in stopping this bitch to run her mouth, so Yoongi is going to do it himself.

“You don’t, though.” Yoongi says, nonchalantly.

Soyun’s head snaps to look at him. Her gaze is murderous. “What did you say, Yoongi-ssi?”

“I said.” he presses each next words, for her petty brain to register. “You don’t write better lyrics.”

A kind of deathlike silence settles over the office; If Yoongi were to drop a needle, they would all hear it clink against the floor. The other songwriters shrink back in their chair, probably knowing where this meeting is heading on a fast track, while Namjoon straightens himself, his eyes burning into Yoongi’s side, but he stays quiet.

It’s a well-known fact that Soyun and Yoongi don’t cooperate on better days, but on worse, like this, when Yoongi has no patience to put up with her tantrums, they will tear at each other’s throats. It’s always been about something trivial, though.

But she’s talking about a kid, an idol, who has already plenty on his plate. He can’t imagine how hard it must be to be under that amount of stress, almost all day every day, rarely getting a day off.

And she has the gall to make fun of him? Someone who probably has never written a song before in their life?

“I think I need to remind you, Soyun-ssi, that the idol in question wasn’t hired as a songwriter.” Yoongi starts, keeping his voice and his face carefully emotionless. “He was hired to perform.”

“Have you gone deaf in your old age, Yoongi-ssi?” she bites, her voice full of poison. She probably would poison him if she could. Yoongi can’t say that the age comment doesn’t sting, but instead of hurting, it fuels his inner rage. “Bang PD-nim was just talking about it. Perhaps you should go and let a professional look at them before you lose your hearing completely.”

“Don't start with me. He wasn’t talking about putting the kid on the song writing team. He was talking about a kid, there is five of them, after all.” he pauses, and just to redirect that fucking jab at him, he adds, “Perhaps you haven’t noticed it, Soyun-ssi, so I recommend checking the prescriptions of your glasses.” Yoongi interject sarcastically. He sees the band’s manager muffle a laugh by pretending to cough. The corner Namjoon’s mouth lifts slightly.

Soyun looks like she’s about a second away from actually murdering Yoongi. She opens her mouth, to retaliate, when Yoongi continues. “And while you’re at it, you should come with me to check out your hearing, because that’s faulty too. Among other things.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She hisses. She’s slowly rising out of her seat, her scent filling up the office room, which almost makes Yoongi gag. It’s sour, but it’s an alpha’s scent, an angry alpha’s, and she’s pumping them out deliberately to push him into submission. That’s all that here is to it. She knows that a subdued omega will probably shut up, or worse, apologize for speaking up to her. Like how a good, obedient omega should.

But she doesn’t fucking know Yoongi.

She’s a fucking fool if she thinks that towering over him is gonna scare him, that stinking up the place will somehow put Yoongi into a muted sort of mood.

So Yoongi stands too, to be on equal level. Sure, she’s a foot taller, and her biceps are thick enough to insinuate that she could crush Yoongi if she wanted, but Yoongi has the advantage of dealing with people like her, and he’s also more experienced with producing and songwriting. She doesn’t even know what he’s capable of.

There are a few warning “Hey”-s, mostly directed to Soyun, but she shakes them off to fix Yoongi with her best ‘you’re dead-meat’ look.

“It means that what Bang PD-nim actually said was that maybe, just maybe, we should involve a few of them in the song-writing process. I think it’s safe to say that at first, that process would be letting them listen to how we compose in the first place, give them ideas on how to express themselves.” he looks for Bang PD for affirmation, and the man nods. He always enjoys listening to them bickering; the only reason why he hasn’t stopped this madness.

“And then, if out of five of them, someone is interested, then they could sit down with one of us, or multiple of us, for that matter, and continue it from there. It could be as small as contributing a few words to the bridge or humming a melody that later gets used, but it would be a start.”

“And if so happens that none of them are talented enough to write? Hmm? What then? We’re already down to four members, because that boy, Soobin-ssi, can’t write to-”

“Jesus, Soyun-ssi, can you hear yourself?” Yoongi replies furiously. “He’s still a kid, he probably went to you trusting that you would either give him meaningful feedback or constructive criticism. Not to be called a worthless piece of shit from someone he looked up enough to risk showing something that could be complete crap for all he knows!”

Soyun bellows back. “It was complete crap! How can you expect me not to-”

“But you can’t tell him that!” Yoongi snaps. Fuck, his throat is gonna hurt tomorrow. “Because that’s what a decent fucking human being does! You let him down gently, we’re talking about someone right at the beginning of their career, of course what they might write at first is going to be crap! We all have written shitty songs when we started out! The difference is that he’s willing to grow.”

Here comes the real salty part. Soyun will never understand if she’s not humbled thoroughly, and as much as Yoongi doesn’t want to say this, he’s going to. To teach her a lesson once and for all.

“Do you even know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on all of this?” Yoongi straightens his back, and while his shoulder protests, he pedals on. “Of course not. So, allow me to show you.” He leans on the table, and he can feel that everyone leans in too, to hear whatever he has to say. All eyes are on him.

“You have been with BigHit for about three years now, but I have never heard anything meaningful coming out of your mouth that would be worth putting in a song, much less an album. Your ego is so fucking inflated that you think what you do might be the pinnacle of writing, but you have never received a critical acclaim for the things you’re involved with, only mixed reviews while, let’s say, Jinyoung-ssi over here has been here for the same amount of time and the works he is involved in always, always end up charting.” He sees some of the light in Soyun’s eyes die out, and Yoongi feels simultaneously bad and justified. “You think that just because you’re older and a bit more experienced in the field, it gives you the right to treat the people below you like they’re pesky little cockroaches. When someone tries to get you to think about your actions, what do you do? You try to intimidate them into submission.”

Yoongi bares his teeth, the motion so raw and animalistic that as quick as people were to lean in to hear him, they're as quick to scoot away from it. “But not with me, sweetheart. If you think I’m gonna put up with your “I’m-an-alpha-therefore-I-have-the-power” bullshit, you’re sorely mistaken. It doesn’t make you look cool or badass, but you know what it does make you look like? A colossal ass that nobody likes. You may have just crushed a boy that could have been one of BigHit’s golden goose.”

The eye contact they have been keeping up wavers as Soyun looks to the side, her face twisted in humiliation before she schools it into something neutral, lifting her gaze to meet Yoongi’s again. 

“And if he’s not the golden goose we were looking for? That’s still a human being. He breathes, sleeps, eats just like you do… Scratch that, that isn’t even true! You don’t live on the strict diet idols do, you’re getting your beauty sleep every single night while these kids are only fuelled by caffeine,” Yoongi takes a deep breath and prepares for the final blow. “And if they breathe in the wrong direction, the media is there on their doorstep to catch something worth writing about! They’re doing their job just alright, as song writing is just a suggestion for them, but that’s all what your job is, and you can’t even do that right!”

Once again, the office lapses back into silence, so still that Yoongi can hear every single breath drawn around him. The other songwriters look like they kind of want to agree with Yoongi, especially Hyowon-nim, who smiles at Yoongi, and he knows they must be thinking of the same thing; a talk years ago that was eerie similar to this one, only Yoongi was in the place of Soyun, and not in front of the whole team, but the privacy of Pdogg’s studio.

“You’re a cruel man, Min Yoongi.” Soyun finally whispers, then turns around and promptly leaves the room. Nobody tries to stop her, and nobody goes after her.

“She’ll calm down.” Yoongi sits back in his chair and huffs out an exhausted breath. This was brutal. He needs a drink.

“That was cold, Suga-hyung.” Jinyoung whispers in amazement. “I would have probably burst out crying in the middle of it.”

“Me too. But at least she finally got told off.” One of the songwriters says bitterly. “I was dreaming of doing that for months now.”

“I hope this destroys her ego. She really needed someone to put her in place.”

“Yeah. Well-deserved.”

“I don’t think I would have had the guts to say that to her. You’re amazing.” Another one murmurs.

Yoongi honestly feels anything but amazing, because his intention was to teach her a lesson – not to tear her down completely. She needed a wake-up call, to take her head of her ass, but not to have her confidence destroyed completely.

He can’t see or hear anything, just feel the big, warm hand on his shoulder, and Yoongi looks up to see Namjoon leaning over the back of his chair, his face twisted into a worried frown.

“Do you need to take a minute?”

“Take more than a minute.” Bang PD gesticulates to the door. “Meeting dismissed. If the boys are interested in writing, then we’ll involve them. That’s my final say.”

He claps three times. “Everybody may go. Jinyoung-ssi, don’t forget to check the e-mail I sent you. Namjoon-ssi, I want you to take a look over Park Yuna’s lead single, because she said she feels something is missing, Yoongi-ssi, before you send out the demo track, mail it to me, I want to take a look at it. And for heaven’s sake, someone go and find Soyun-ssi and tell her to come by my office later.”

“Yes, Bang PD-nim.” Comes the choir of answers. Yoongi seriously feels sick, so he stays quiet. It’s better to come off rude than disgusting if he throws up here. He barely registers Namjoon steering him out of the office, and into the alpha’s studio.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

Yoongi hums and rubs at his face. He can’t talk like this.

Namjoon’s hand leaves his shoulder, slowly travelling downwards and stopping on the middle of Yoongi’s back, rubbing it. The motion eases his nausea a little bit, but not a lot.

“Should I bring you something to drink?” Namjoon offers sweetly.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Hyung. You’re green.” Namjoon raises his eyebrows at him.

At least he hopes it’s an interesting shade of green. Namjoon tsks and stands anyway, to get a glass of water from the floor kitchen.

Yoongi really wants to cuss him out, because why can’t he just take Yoongi’s word? He just told him he is fine.

The swearword is on the tip of his tongue, but when Namjoon offers the glass to Yoongi, his eyes are so sincere and worried Yoongi can’t say a single word besides “Thanks.”

The cold water washes away the taste of acid from his mouth too, something Yoongi is very thankful for.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yoongi looks back at his hands. And he sees nothing, but Soyun’s devastated eyes. All he hears is her voice telling him “You’re a cruel man, Min Yoongi.” and how that wasn’t the first time someone said that, and it won’t be the last.

What does Namjoon think of him right now? Does he see a monster? A man who tore down a someone without hesitation? Does he see a person that wouldn’t fit right to his kind nature? Namjoon is a mediator, after all. He has always preferred talking things out civilly, without physical or verbal attacks.

But that’s what Yoongi knows best. He may have just gone too far this time. Not for Soyun, but for his standards.

“No.”

Namjoon presses his lips together in a frown but doesn’t pry the words out of Yoongi. No, Yoongi is fully aware what Namjoon is doing, alright. He is waiting it out – he knows Yoongi will either come to him on his own terms or won’t at all. And Namjoon is a patient man.

Well, fuck that. Yoongi is going to bury this day so deep in his mind that he hopes he’ll forget it altogether. He doesn’t need more mental baggage; the existing ones are heavy enough.

Yoongi buries his face into his hands.

Namjoon presses a soft, featherlike kiss to his left shoulder – his injured shoulder – and then scoots to the other side of the couch, to open a drawer. He’s looking for something.

Yoongi is a bit confused when he fishes out a bag of baby wipes. What in the world would he need it for…?

Namjoon rubs them, almost aggressively, against his scent glands, and all at once, Yoongi realizes what he’s doing. He’s rubbing away the scent blockers he applied before they left for work, so Yoongi could access his scent. Adoration blooms in Yoongi’s chest like a meadow during spring, because how sweet is he? Namjoon absolutely loathes having his scent exposed, especially in the studios, because that is ‘not professional’ and ‘people might not want to inhale it’ (Bullshit, Yoongi’s mind supplies. Namjoon’s scent is the most wonderful one in the world, who wouldn’t want to breathe that in? That shit is addictive, he swears.)

Namjoon leans back in towards him and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate a single moment to plant his nose against the juncture of Namjoon’s neck, getting to breathe in that fresh, soapy scent, and banishing Soyun’s angry one. A minute in and he feels dizzy, but the good kind of dizzy. Like he just went on a drug trip.

“I love you scent.” Yoongi murmurs. He presses a kiss to Namjoon’s throat, earning him a shiver.

“I know. My shampoo bottles still have their lid unscrewed whenever you leave the bathroom.”

Yoongi nips at the skin of his throat and Namjoon jumps a little, which, good. That’s Yoongi’s little revenge. If Namjoon will be thinking of his lips all day after that, it’s not his fault.

“What can I say, except, guilty as charged.”

“Why’s that? No clever retort, whatsoever?”

“Why should I bother?” Slowly, Yoongi relaxes against Namjoon, putting his weight against the alpha’s side. He can handle that for sure. Freaking gym rat. He can probably bench press Yoongi without much of a problem. “I’ve already been caught, and it’s not like I don’t practically throw myself at you when you don’t have scent blockers on you…”

Namjoon giggles, Yoongi smiles up at him. His smile is so soft and warm that Yoongi has a hard time resisting climbing into his lap and kiss him breathless. He really freaking wants to but can’t.

“I can see the gears turning in your head.” Namjoon pats his thigh. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

He hesitates. Would it be too clingy to...?

“Hyung?”

No. No, this is their workplace, for fucks sake. They have been warned once – they could get fired if someone were to catch them in a compromising position again.

He longs for Namjoon’s comforting embrace, for them to just lie sideways on the couch and cuddle all day but he won’t risk both of their jobs just to get it.

“…It’s nothing...” he finally says. He’s not as nauseous as he was coming out of the meeting, but it’s better if he leaves now. Before he breaks down. “I think I’m going to go now. I have a lot to do. See you later.”

Yoongi almost makes it out of the door before Namjoon wraps a gentle hand around his wrist and squeezes it.

“Can I get a goodbye hug before you go?” he asks.

Yoongi’s heart eases a bit. “Of course.”

It’s short, but Namjoon squeezes him within an inch of his life, all the while warming Yoongi’s body up.

Huh. Yoongi hasn’t even noticed how cold he feels.

Namjoon must be Yoongi’s own personal sun, he decides. He always knows when Yoongi might need a little bit of extra love and heat, ready to provide it, and pushes away the thunderclouds from his mind. Not completely, but enough to make Yoongi see clearly again.

He’s not ready to talk about the office fiasco. But he will be.

And Namjoon will be there to listen to him.

And if he gets a beautiful bouquet of lilac Asters delivered to his studio the middle of the day, no one has to know that he cries a little.

*~*

“Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths. You got this.”

Yoongi almost passes by the voice. Almost.

It’s pretty late in the evening, and Yoongi is just about to head out, winding Namjoon’s scarf around his neck (his scarf, he has to remind himself.) Most people have left the building already, but Yoongi really needed to finish that demo-track for the solo idol, after him liking the additions he made for his lyrics, so Yoongi stayed behind. Any normal human being would have left already.

Namjoon never was a normal guy, though.

There is a short sequence of sniffles, then a little sob. Yoongi takes a few steps back, to not get caught listening in around Namjoon’s studio door. It just happens to be slightly ajar.

“They’ll throw me out of the group.” A tiny voice whispers. Yoongi thinks it’s gotta be Soobin. After the office showdown between Soyun and Yoongi earlier today, Soobin’s name travelled BigHit like a breeze.

“I’m the leader, I’m the bridge between the group and the managers, but I can’t do something as simple as writing lyrics.”

“Writing lyrics is not nearly as simple as people would think.” comes Namjoon’s answer. “Sometimes, it’s actually incredibly hard. Words either come to you naturally or they don’t want to come at all. And they’re not going to throw you out. You’ve already debuted, quite successfully.”

“Thanks to you, hyung-nim.” whimpers the boy. “But when Bang PD-nim asked if we would like to participate in writing a few of our songs, he looked at me directly, like he expects me to do it - and HueningKai-ah and Beomgyu-ah have already written a few, and they’re good, and what I’ve got…isn’t comparable.” Oh. That is definitely news. Last Yoongi heard, only the leader was trying his hands at writing. There is a hiccup, and a few consoling pats after that. “What good am I to the group if I can’t even do this? Noo-nim was right. I am a hot mess.”

“You have a good voice and you’re a good dancer.” Namjoon retorts immediately. “And you keep the other’s in check. I’m not sure if you have noticed, Soobin-ssi, but keeping track of four other rowdy boys can exhaust a person mentally.” A wet chuckle. “And that exhaustion can file itself into everything, including song writing. The members turn to you for advice, you’re in charge of doing all the presenting as a leader, of course you’re exhausted.”

Soobin doesn’t have anything to say to that, but at once, guilt fills Yoongi. He’s listening in to a conversation that is not meant for his ears. Still, the thought of just taking a step back and go the other way is not that appealing. He really wants to know what Namjoon would say next. Maybe this is what he should have done with Soyun.

“Plus, that’s why we are hired. Bang PD knows that a beautiful voice might not come with the talent to write songs, just as he knows that the talent to write songs doesn’t equal a marketable voice.” Namjoon presses on. “You were not hired as a lyricist or a producer – just as I wasn’t hired to be a vocalist.” There is a minor pause, then a little snort. “Maybe that’s for the better.”

Soobin chuckles too. “A rapper, then.”

“Ah, a rapper. I would have been famous.” Namjoon fake laments. “Jokes aside, you don’t need to worry yourself for such a thing. You keep the group together, and if the other members are inspired to write music, then good for them.” Yoongi can’t see Namjoon, but he can tell that Namjoon is shrugging his shoulders. “But don’t force yourself to do the same. The really good songs weren’t written by forcing them.”

Another short pause, and Yoongi is about to turn around, thinking that the conversation is over, when Namjoon continues. “I think this is the main problem with the things you write, and the only thing Yun PD-ssi was right about. You’re forcing them, and if I can tell, then the potential listeners can, and I can guarantee you that Bang PD can tell, too. Let yourself think it through, the things you’re feeling, and if you want to put it in words, then that’s when you should sit down and write them down.”

Soobin sniffs and says. “Thank you, hyung-nim. I will try.”

There is a long silence after that. Yoongi thinks that he has already overstayed his due, by a whole fucking lot, actually, so he walks past the studio door, to go outside and go home – Hoseok’s in charge of dinner anyway, so he doesn’t have to stop for groceries. After a horrendous day like this, he’s not sure he’d have the patience for that. Or anything else for the rest of the night, for that matter.

Just as he exits the building, he gets a text from Namjoon.

Namjoonie (19:53)

Are you still here? We can go home together if you want.

Yes. Fucking please. Yoongi is exhausted, furious, and guilty, and just generally feeling like dogshit, and he really needs his boyfriend time.

Yoongi-hyung (19:53)

I am here at the entrance.

Namjoonie (19:54)

Wait for me? I’ll be down in a minute.

It’s late March, but the temperature is still stuck in winter-mode; the cold air prickles his face where the facemask isn’t covering it. He feels especially lucky to have Namjoon’s scarf around his neck, to protect him even when its original owner isn’t here to warm him up.

Namjoon takes more than a minute, but Yoongi isn’t questioning why that is. There is someone right now who needs Namjoon more than him, so he is willing to wait. He’ll have the alpha for himself soon enough in any case.

Namjoon steps out of the building ten minutes after his text, buttoning up the top of his jacket. Yoongi’s heart clenches a little at the sight of him. He looks exhausted.

“Hey, sorry you had to wait.” Namjoon sighs when he steps up to him. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between them and wrap his hands around his middle.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind. The flowers were beautiful, by the way.” He squeezes Namjoon with all his might and that earns him a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re ready to go?”

“Mmhmm.”

Just as they turn, he spots Soobin stepping out of the building, his eyes red rimmed, but not as troubled as he sounded in the studio. They make eye contact over Namjoon’s shoulder, and Soobin blushes adorably and waves.

“Have a nice night, RM-hyung and Suga-hyung.” He tells them as he passes, his hands protective around himself. Yoongi never was big on hugging (it must run in his family…), but he really freaking wants to stop the boy and wrap his hands around him, to tell him that he is doing his best, and that’s all that matters.

Instead, he keeps one of them wrapped around Namjoon, and waves with the other one. “You too, Soobin-ssi.”

The walk back home passes by in comfortable silence, with Namjoon humming a song he has dubbed “Trivia: Love”. As much as Yoongi is itching to ask what the lyrics is, he knows Namjoon will only show it to him when he is done with the track. Called it a “late birthday present.”, as if the horde of flowers weren’t enough.

Opening the front door, Yoongi is hit with the rich scent of Kimchi Bokkeumbap.

“Please tell me it’s finished.” Yoongi says, salivating at the sight of his dinner. He could wolf down a whole cow, he’s so hungry.

“It’s finished.” Hoseok chirps. “I was waiting for you two to come back to eat.”

“Aww Hobi.” Namjoon coos. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Hoseok shakes his head, his hair bobbing with the movement. “Nah, it’s okay. Ever since the old bat doubled down on the complaints against us, I feel like I rarely stay here to hang out with you guys.”

Suddenly, without a warning, Hoseok’s face scrunches up in discomfort, like he has just remembered something he’d rather bury in the back of his mind, and he coughs out, “I mean. If you guys would rather…If you want to have a date night, I’m sorry…I could go to Taehyungie’s place, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to…”

It’s comical, the way both Namjoon and him shout out a synchronous “NO.”, which scares the soul out of Hoseok from the volume of it.

“This is your place too, Hoseok-ah, we would never want you to feel like you can’t come back to your own home...”

“…Yeah, you’re our best friend, you don’t have to worry about anything, you’re not intruding…”

“…You’re not third wheeling…”

“…We love having you around.”

“Okay, okay.” Hoseok giggles, his mouth forming into a heart shaped smile. He has his arms up, as if he physically wants to stop the word flow. “I get it, I get it, I’m the soul of this apartment, you can’t live without me, yada yada. I was just worried for a second that I’m imposing on your…” Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “…couple night.”

Yoongi pats his shoulder. “Never. We’ll tell you in advance we’re kicking you out for our…” Yoongi stresses the next words the same way Hoseok did. “…couple night.”

Hoseok howls in laughter and Namjoon buries his hands in his face, his ears burning cherry-red.

“The day she calls the police on you two, instead of me will be the most beautiful day of my life.” Hoseok admits and looks to the side. He’s probably imagining that scenario right in this moment. “I didn’t forget that you two were laughing in the back like hyenas, when the officers showed up.”

“Keep dreaming, Seok-ah.” Yoongi says sarcastically. “You have no volume control the way we do.”

“Can we not talk about our sex life at the dinner table?” Namjoon whines. “I’m trying to eat.”

“After everything we’ve been through so we could court Yoongi-hyung? This is the thanks I get? Being silenced?” Hoseok whisper-yells, flaring dramatically in the air.

Namjoon’s jaw goes slack. “What do you mean we? I’m the one who courted him you jackass!”

“I was your whistle-blower! You wouldn’t have succeeded without me!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I was the one courting him-!”

“Children.” Yoongi says diplomatically. “This is a dinner table. You two have time to murder each other later. So quit it because I’m starving.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss the way Namjoon and Hoseok make ugly faces at each other when he turns his back to get a glass of water.

They’re children alright.

~*~

Hoseok calls it a night earlier than expected, citing that he had a tiring day with the choreographies, but Yoongi suspects that as much as Hoseok’s joking about the whole thing, he genuinely fears that he might be third wheeling them. And that is unacceptable.

He’s definitely making plans to treat Hoseok to something nice, preferably edible when Namjoon closes the door of Yoongi’s room behind himself, pyjamas in his hands.

…What the fuck is that?

“Am I hallucinating,” Yoongi starts, while staring at that…thing? It’s nestled between layers of clothes, but the colour is unmistakeable. “Or is that a thong? Socks? What is that?”

Namjoon looks down, confused, and then laughs his short, high-pitched laugh. “Eye-mask, actually.”

“Right.” Yoongi says, baffled. “…Why do you have a hot pink eye-mask, if I may ask?”

Namjoon falls down on Yoongi’s bed backwards, all the while giggling. His mirth is infectious, because Yoongi catches his mouth lifting up in a grin.

“You know my brother, Seokjin-hyung?” Namjoon asks.

“I’m guessing that’s a rhetorical question.” Yoongi replies dryly. “Considering that there is not a single soul in South Korea who doesn’t know your brother Seokjin-hyung.”

“I’m sure the older generation doesn’t.” Namjoon shrugs. “Not everyone watches movies.”

“Yeah, but it’s pretty hard to miss him when his face is plastered on billboards across the country.”

Namjoon smiles widely, dimples now in full effect. “Sometimes I can still hear his voice…”

“Yah, he’s not dead.” Yoongi burst out laughing. “He still calls you every week!”

Namjoon drags Yoongi down next to him, so now they’re giggling against each other’s shoulder. “Anyway, he’s the one who gave it to me for my birthday last year. I think it was a gag gift, to be honest, but it’s just so soft and comfy that I started using it regularly.”

Yoongi has a hard time trying to keep his volume in check. “You would be the guy to actually use a gag gift for real.”

“Hey! I’m not the one who still sleeps with those anime body pillows Hoseok-ah gave us when we first moved in.”

“Yah, Namjoon-ah.” Yoongi fake-snaps, smiling his gummy smile. “You have a death wish?”

Namjoon clamps his mouth shut, but the way his cheeks puff out give away the effort he makes not to laugh.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Namjoon stretches, his shirt riding up, exposing the lower part of his torso and his happy trail.

“Say, Joon-ah.” Yoongi’s not looking at him, busy eyeing nothing in particular on his nails. “Did you get the supplies?”

Namjoon’s smile is completely predatory for a second, before he oddly schools it into something softer.

“I did. In between my night shirt and pants.”

Without warning, Yoongi shifts, and throws a leg over Namjoon’s hips, straddling him on the bed. Fuck, it’s so satisfying to see Namjoon’s Adam’s apple bob as he tries to swallow. He opens his mouth once, twice, but the only sound coming out of it are tiny puffs of air.

Namjoon might have fought down his predatory side, but Yoongi hasn’t. And he’s intending on not letting go of his prey.

“Well then.” Yoongi grins sinisterly. “We don’t want them to go to waste, do we Joonie?”

“No.” Namjoon pants. “We don’t.”

Yoongi practically purrs. “That’s right.”

Yoongi shifts a little, being painfully aware on exactly what he’s sitting on before an idea comes to him. He’ll draw out that predator alright. He intends on getting railed within an inch of his life - quietly, because both the angry neighbour and Hoseok wouldn’t appreciate him screaming his lungs out – and if he has to tease Namjoon to rile him up enough to snap, then by God he’s going to do it.

“I don’t know about you.” Yoongi continues, still masking his excitement with indifference. “But I’m still hungry.”

Namjoon looks at him quizzically. “We just ate. Like an hour ago, tops.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him. They’re gonna work on that dirty talk.

“I know.” Yoongi drawls out the words, while he is sliding down. Namjoon follows the movement with his eyes. “I think I forgot to have desert. That’s why I’m not full.”

There’s a double innuendo there, but if it flies over Namjoon’s head, he doesn’t really care. “What do you suggest I should go and eat?”

Namjoon licks his lips. Is he catching up?

“We have ice cream in the fridge.”

“Anything else?” Yoongi presses. You, dumbass! Say you!

“…I think I got some Pocky Sticks in my backpack if you want. But can’t it wait?”

He says it so sincerely and innocently that Yoongi can’t help it; he snorts, and flops onto the side, muffling his laughing in his hands. He’s practically shaking with the force of it. So dirty talk is a one of ten.

And they say romance is dead. They’re sort of right.

“What?” Namjoon is grinning at him, a bit confused, but at least he’s got the spirit.

“You ass.” Yoongi breathes out, tears streaming down his face. This man. “I was trying to imply that I’d like to eat you.” A decidedly ungraceful snort makes past his lips and Yoongi has to grab a pillow to muffle it.

He can’t see Namjoon this way, but he can hear the moment the lightbulb above Namjoon’s head goes out because he lets out a dragged out “Oooh.” Then a slap that sounds suspiciously like a facepalm.

“’I think I have some pocky’…Oh Namjoon-ah…” Yoongi cries. “You absolute idiot. You said it so honestly too.” Yoongi tries to wipe the tears away from his eyes, but new ones just keep coming. “I can’t believe you. My sides hurt, oh my god. I love you.”

He doesn’t get a response, so Yoongi sits up and wipes at his eyes to see the Namjoon shaped blob, on his stomach facing away from him, with the top of Yoongi’s comforter drawn on the back of his head. His whole neck is red. His whole chest is probably red too, not to mention his face.

Yoongi throws himself on his back horizontally, still shaking from laughter, while poking at the alpha’s side.

“Leave me alone.” Namjoon moans out. It certainly isn’t the moan Yoongi was expecting tonight.

“Nah.” Yoongi wouldn’t be able to wash this stupid grin off of his face even if someone threatened him to kill him otherwise. “This is gold. You’re so goddamn lucky this was dirty talk. Otherwise even our grandchildren would have heard this story.”

“Nooo.” Namjoon groans again. “Leave me here. This is where I die.”

“This is my room.” Yoongi points out. “So, am I just living with a corpse now?”

“Get a coffin.”

“For whom? You or me?”

“I would have made a vampire joke now if I still had dignity.” Namjoon turns into a little ball on the corner of Yoongi’s bed. Well. Maybe not little and maybe not corner. He takes up about half of Yoongi’s bed.

Yoongi pats his ass to get him to look up. Namjoon doesn’t budge.

“Come on, dignity-less-nim. Look at me.”

Namjoon buries his head right back the moment they make eye contact and Yoongi busts out laughing all over again.

“No, hey.” Yoongi giggles, trying to push Namjoon’s shoulders to the side to get access to his face, but with the power difference it’s like pushing a brick wall. “I’m sorry, I’ll calm down. Look at me, Baby. Come on Namjoonie.”

Namjoon finally turns towards him, not meeting Yoongi’s gaze, biting his lower lip. He’s so terribly mortified it’s actually super fucking cute.

“I ruined the mood.” he laments.

“Yeah.” Yoongi agrees, smiling. “But I think I needed this more than sex today. Thanks for the belly laugh.” In a much tinier voice Yoongi adds. “I’m still a bit shaken from my…conflict with Soyun-ssi. It wouldn’t have been a good idea, in hindsight.”

They share a very thorough kiss, though.

Only after dressing in their pyjamas and Namjoon actually pulling the eye-mask onto his head – but not yet his eyes – does he speak up.

“I hope you know that what you did might have been harsh, but she needed to hear it.”

Yoongi stays quiet. Did she? He let his anger get the best of him. “I think I lost my mind a little once I realized what she was doing with her scent.”

“I never understood alphas like her.” Namjoon says with a frown marring his perfect face. He doesn’t seem angry, just undeniably disappointed, a sentiment Yoongi shares on some level. “Why would it be beneficial to her to prove her dominance over you? You’ve been here longer than most of us and you’re her elder. She should have known that nobody would let that kind of disrespect fly. How can she demand respect when she doesn’t provide it back to you?”

“Maybe because she doesn’t have any for me.” Yoongi notes bitterly. “Her type, they never respected me and my wishes. I wanted a little bit of distance? I wasn't worth the effort anyway.” Namjoon flinches. “I had written something great? They tried to take the credit for my work. Disrespected me and nobody lifted a damn finger, because essentially, they didn’t fucking care.” That memory alone shakes Yoongi up horribly.

“Sex? I was either their docile little doll they could knot however many times they liked, or they weren’t sleeping with me at all.”

Namjoon’s eyes are wide. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah. You get it? Who the fuck even thinks like that? This is not the Joseon Dynasty.”

Namjoon places a hand on Yoongi’s chest and Yoongi wraps his arms around it. “I am seriously so sorry in the name of our alpha population.”

Yoongi pats his hand. “Don’t be. It’s not the decent ones’ responsibility to be.”

Yoongi reclines back on the bed, pulling Namjoon with him. All of a sudden, the fight leaves him, and once again, he sees nothing but her eyes. Devastated, shamed and empty. “But it’s hard to feel great humiliating them when you see that they could be decent people, if they tried hard enough.”