|Follow me. At your own risk – Namjoon could have sworn that was what Hoseok's eyes had said that time, two in the morning, back in Seokjin and Yoongi's shared dorm room-slash-party-place-slash-hell-hole because Namjoon was shit at holding his alcohol, much more trying to stay sober what with Taehyung continuously passing him shots and keeping all the chips to himself. In Namjoon's defense, his mind had already been a mess then, and Hoseok felt nice and warm and comfy beside him, sort of like a harbor in the tempest of vodka and rum, but then Hoseok just had to look up at him with half-lidded eyes and a peculiar curl to his lips that only said one thing – I still want to drink but I can't drink anymore so what d'you say we sweat it out somewhere and fuck?|
"Fuck, I've had too much. And it's so hot here, God. Gotta piss. I'll be back," Hoseok had said, then pushed himself off of his seat. He was wearing those hideous jeans of his again. The ones torn in many different places. They made Hoseok's legs look like long, endless poles Namjoon wouldn't mind mapping out with sucks and kisses. He'd already done it before – leave a trail of kisses from the back of Hoseok's knees up to his inner thigh before running his tongue flat along the underside of Hoseok's dick – and god, did Hoseok let out the softest little whimper. So really, he wouldn't mind doing it again. He wouldn't mind getting down on his knees if Hoseok asked him nicely, if Hoseok were just a bit more clear with his words. If Hoseok bothered not going with twenty feet of long sentences just to get to his goddamned point. "You okay there? You look like you could use some air–"
Namjoon shrugged. Locked his arms in front of him and said, "Nah, I'm fine. I'll be–" And then there it was, Hoseok cocking an eyebrow at him, mouth tugging up at the corners at the same time that he darted out his tongue. Hoseok throwing his head back a little, exposing the column of his neck, then drawing his shoulders back before going on his merry way, sauntering away from the scene, leaving Namjoon feeling so bereft. If they ever had a secret language for a booty call, that would be it. Namjoon had already used the same look, the same technique, the same little gesture before to drag Hoseok out of godawful dates and bad situations and slumps whenever Hoseok got anything less than the marks he desired.
Half the time, it saved Namjoon. The other half, it made him slipping even deeper into a hole he'd dug for himself.
Fast forward thirty minutes after and here they are – Hoseok with his nails dug into Namjoon's skin as he rolls his hips and inches them both closer to their release with slow, easy pumps on their dicks, and Namjoon alternating between leaving nasty bite marks that will sting for days along the slope of Hoseok's neck and sliding his hands down Hoseok's back, grabbing Hoseok by the ass so he can bring their bodies close, close, closer. He can feel the heavy thumping in Hoseok's chest, mirrored in his own, can feel every shift of Hoseok's muscles in the tight press of their bodies when he helps Hoseok out, gives him a hand, rubs along the slit of Hoseok's dick with light brushes of his thumb, and fuck if this isn't the only reason he likes having more alcohol than oxygen in his body. Liquor makes everything easier – easier for him to not think too much about his limbs or where his hands should be, easier for him to let Hoseok take the reins and guide him to the closest secluded place so they can either kiss the living daylights out of each other or their drunkenness away or fuck each other 'til they can feel their fingers again. Easier for him to approach Hoseok at all without a perfectly crafted script – So there's a new Japanese place nearby and I was hoping we could try it out by the way your hair looks nice and you look really good tonight and can I hold your hand instead of your dick? Kinda sounds weird but friends do that, right? We've been friends since the start of college and we've been sleeping with each other for around three years now so uh, tell me, are you cool with that?
"Hey. Stay with me," Hoseok whispers, voice cracking a little. He laughs a little, shakes his head, but soon his breath is hitching when Namjoon gives his dick a light squeeze, when Namjoon tilts his head a little to give Hoseok's ear a nibble before pulling away so they can press their foreheads together, can have a quick break, can have time to breathe. Yes, it is a lot easier being reckless with Hoseok with all the alcohol in his body, because then he won't have to wonder all the time why Hoseok needs to look him in the eye everytime he cums, like he needs to anchor himself on Namjoon and this moment or else he'll get carried away. Infinitely more difficult to make sense of anything beyond the way Hoseok twitches in his hand or the way Hoseok gets hungry with kisses right after, like he means to spend every last sliver of energy he has on memorizing the taste of Namjoon's mouth on his tongue instead of steadying his own self, holding onto Namjoon, keeping himself afloat. "Namjoon– Look at me, c'mon–"
Namjoon hums. Lets out a low grunt as he meets Hoseok's gaze, focused and purposeful, and quickens his pace, stroking them with long and hard pumps. Hoseok is gritting his teeth and he's breathing heavily and he keeps choking on air, gasping everytime the underside of their dicks brush, but he won't look away. He's looking up through the narrow slits of his bangs and muttering a string of expletives, but he keeps his eyes on Namjoon, keeps his fingers threaded through Namjoon's own as they get each other off. And Hoseok keeps his teeth from chattering and himself from making any noise like he wants to hear Namjoon, wants to hear him say something, anything to fill the white noise with anything but the obscene slapping sounds of sex and heavy breathing and the tiny whimpers spilling from their lips. But then all that occurs to Namjoon right now are these – how the corners of Hoseok's lips are curled up into a small, blissed out smile, how Hoseok's eyes are soft and no longer guarded, and how he looks all too willing in the reflection in Hoseok's eyes, like if Hoseok asked him to come right here, right now, he would–
Namjoon's breath hitches. Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, his release hitting him in a sizzle of heat blooming in his abdomen, then Namjoon's coming all over Hoseok's fists, the link of their hands, the fit of their bodies. Some of his cum catches on his chin and he feels too sticky and gross all over to clean himself up, but Hoseok doesn't seem to be fazed, instead leaning in to lick it off of Namjoon's skin before inching much closer, pressing his lips to Namjoon's own, sealing the deal with a kiss. In a few minutes, Namjoon knows the high will fade and they'll be shuffling back to Seokjin's place, downing one shot of tequila after another. In a few hours, they'll be buried nose-deep in their books again, studying for their midterms, giving each other handjobs on the side. But for now he allows himself to get drunk on this – the slow-forming smile on Hoseok's lips bleeding onto his skin, Hoseok's arms around him, soft yet secure, and how easy it is to interpret the heavy thumping in Hoseok's chest as nothing but regular beats, a steady rhythm, nothing more.
"You did great out there," Hoseok says much later, on their way back, as he nudges Namjoon in his side. "Been getting a lot of practice? Have you– Hey, are you actually going out with someone– Why do I not know anything about this–"
And it matters to you because? Namjoon wants to ask, but his mind is still a bit fuzzy and his tongue still feels numb and he can still taste Hoseok in his mouth. So instead, he rolls his eyes, hastens in his steps a little, catches up, and hooks his index finger on Hoseok's pinky – all without looking at Hoseok in the eye.
"Nah, I haven't. There's–" he whispers after a while, just before they turn around the corner. Hoseok looks at him with wide, wide eyes, but makes no effort to drop the link of their hands, to take a step back, to pull away. "There's no one else."
You're up, yunsias! :D