Chapter Text
- - -
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jimin turns, rounding on Taehyung with an eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me this now?”
“Well…” Taehyung shrugs. “I think I’m supposed to ask you? I thought it was a thing.”
There’s a pause and Jimin sighs, slumping a little. “No, Taehyung,” Jimin says with a roll of his eyes, “you do not need to ask me if I’m sure two hours before I’m about to get married.” Jimin smiles slightly. “You were supposed to do it last night, when we were hammered at the casino.”
“Ah.” Taehyung nods thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Can we roleplay? Pretend we’re back there and I’ll -”
“I’m sure,” Jimin interrupts, turning away again. “You don’t need to ask me.” Jimin peers into the mirror, resuming styling his hair. “You know I’m sure.”
Taehyung smiles, coming up behind him so he can hook his chin over Jimin’s shoulder. “I know, Jiminie.” Wrapping his arms around Jimin’s waist, Taehyung can feel a slight trembling in his body. “Min,” he begins, voice careful, “you okay?”
He hears Jimin swallow, feels his body tense. “I’m a little nervous,” he admits softly.
“Jiminie,” Taehyung croons, nuzzling against Jimin’s neck. “You don’t need to be nervous,” he insists. “Though I read that it’s perfectly normal to be nervous.”
“Read?”
Taehyung smiles. “I did research to be the greatest best man ever,” Taehyung explains. “There are a lot of articles, some more helpful than others.” Some were weird. He presses a kiss to Jimin’s cheek. “I wanted this to be perfect for you, and it will, because you and Namjoon are perfect for each other.”
“You think so?” Jimin’s hands fall from his hair, hands sliding over Taehyung’s to curl their fingers together over his stomach. He sighs dreamily, lips curling in a smile. “He’s something special, I’m so lucky,” Jimin whispers.
“And so are you,” Taehyung declares, “the most special. Namjoon is the lucky one here. He better be grateful I’m giving up my Jiminie to him.”
Jimin giggles, leaning back into Taehyung’s embrace. Taehyung tightens his hold for just a moment before stepping back. He had meant it as a joke, it was a joke, of course, but it felt a little real too. He can’t help but feel a little sad. He’s here at his best friend’s wedding without a date, single and alone, just as he’s been for the past year.
When Jimin had gotten engaged a year and a half ago, Taehyung was in a relationship too. He and his boyfriend had been together longer than Jimin and Namjoon at that point. Giggling over too many glasses of wine, their fingers intertwined, Jimin had whispered that Taehyung had to be next. But he wasn’t. Instead it had been a breakup, messy and hostile, knock down and drag out. Taehyung likes to think he came out the other side stronger, but he felt more like a kicked puppy. Months later, he’s here, in Las Vegas, where his best friend will get married to start a life with the man he loves. And Taehyung, faithful best friend and soulmate, is painfully single.
As Jimin slips into his tuxedo jacket, looking handsome and perfect, beaming with joy, Taehyung can’t resist giving him another hug. He loves Jimin like this, happy and content, on top of the world. It’s all he wants, for his best friend to be happy with his new husband. But still, a little part of him, buried deep, can’t help but be a little jealous. It’s hard not to feel like he’s being left behind, and, worst of all, Taehyung can’t help but feel like he’s losing his best friend.
- - -
Taehyung is annoyed, he’s annoyed and he feels like an asshole for it.
Maybe annoyed isn’t even the right word. He’s standing at the altar, surrounded by pretty pink peonies and roses, waiting for Jimin to emerge. Across from him, Namjoon stands with his hands fisted in front of him. He looks like he’s about to burst, clearly trembling and sweating as he waits. If Jimin was nervous, Namjoon is a wreck. Beside Namjoon, Hoseok, his own best man, looks like he’s bracing himself to catch Namjoon if he faints. Taehyung and Hoseok exchange a glance and Hoseok gives him a strained smile.
Taehyung tries to push some of the annoyance down, tries not to let it take over, but he’s not very successful. He’s definitely an asshole, he’s going to ruin his best friend’s wedding. He’s a little surprised Jimin hasn’t picked up on his sourness yet, though he is, obviously, distracted by the fact that he’s getting married. Straightening up, Taehyung pushes down any of his negative thoughts and lets out a breath.
Taehyung lets his gaze wander, glancing around the room and the gathered guests. It’s a small event, mostly close friends and family. Namjoon and Jimin wanted something small and intimate, with just those closest to them. Which is fine, it’s not like Jimin to want small and intimate over large and loud, but Taehyung accepts it. So they were all whisked to Las Vegas, spending a week celebrating Namjoon and Jimin’s love.
And that is part of why Taehyung’s annoyed. It’s stupid, childish really. The guest list is small and Taehyung knows everyone, is friends with everyone. There are no random hot guys for him to hook up with. No potential hot cousins or distant friends for Taehyung to use to ease some of his own existential dread. Instead he has to stand and smile, pretending that he’s not aching inside for some of what Jimin and Namjoon have, for some of what most of their other friends have.
Taehyung is happy for his best friend, he can be happy for Jimin while being jealous. They’re not mutually exclusive. Jimin deserves to be happy with his dimpled lawyer. Even if none of them thought it would last at first, Jimin and Namjoon seemed like polar opposites. But they worked, better than anyone. They were just good together, and as Taehyung’s own relationship crumbled, it was hard to watch Jimin’s flourish.
Jimin never rubbed it in his face, never flaunted his happiness in front of a clearly grieving Taehyung. Jimin was always there with ice cream and romantic comedies, a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold. Jimin helped him through the worst of it, when Taehyung was a mess over a man who treated him like dirt. Jimin was nothing but kindness and love, whispering encouraging words into Taehyung’s hair and cuddling him for hours on end. So Taehyung feels like a monster, jealous and a little resentful of his best friend’s happiness. Taehyung wants Jimin to be happy, but he wants a little of it for himself too.
As his eyes wander, Taehyung’s gaze comes to rest on a piano in the corner. A baby grand in white, decorated with pink peonies and roses like the rest of the room. He hadn’t even registered the music at first, too distracted taking in the room around him. But now he can hear it, soft, gentle notes floating above the seated guests. But it’s not really the piano that captivates him, it’s the man playing it.
Only his side profile is visible from here, but it’s a lot. Sharp eyes, nearly obscured by dark curls, a button nose and pouty lips, slightly parted as he plays. His head bobs in time to the music as his hands, pale and long-fingered, dance over the keys. There’s something about him that does seem almost familiar. He can’t be a guest, Taehyung knows all the guests and he definitely hasn’t met this man before. He’d remember if he had, remember the pouty lips and long lashes. Maybe he’s just a pianist that works for the hotel, someone that Taehyung will never see again.
The man shifts, hands lifting from the keys, and the music fades. He turns a little, glancing around, and catches Taehyung staring at him. Their eyes lock as the man cocks his head, blinking slowly, and Taehyung feels frozen, trapped by the piercing gaze. Dark, cat-like eyes stare at him, sparkling wells of red brown in the light of the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. His porcelain skin nearly seems to glow in the golden light and his eyes dance. He blinks again, studying Taehyung for a moment, and then he turns away, back to his instrument.
He’s pretty. So pretty that Taehyung can’t tear his gaze away. The man isn’t even looking at him anymore, but Taehyung can’t help but watch him, the way he moves with the music, the way his tongue darts out to lick his pink lips. His fingers press into the keys again, drawing forth music. Long fingers, strong looking hands, an arch to his spine as he shifts on the bench as the wedding march begins. Taehyung barely manages to rip his gaze away as the double doors at the end of the hall open and Jimin appears.
- - -
The wedding passes in a blur, a blur where Taehyung pays very little attention to what’s actually happening. He should probably feel guilty, but he can’t help but watch the man at the piano. He’s sitting on the bench, hands folded in his lap, as he watches Jimin and Namjoon politely. Taehyung is sure he can feel Taehyung watching, sure he knows Taehyung’s been staring. But he doesn’t look over, doesn’t give him any attention.
It’s a little maddening, maddening enough that Taehyung is very distracted. He nearly misses his cue for the rings, fumbling in his pocket as Hoseok shoots him a venomous look over Namjoon’s shoulder. Before Taehyung knows it, Jimin and Namjoon are sharing their first official kiss as husbands and are being announced to the gathered guests. He claps along with everyone else, hands clumsy as his attention is tugged away again.
The music swells again, the man playing Namjoon and Jimin up the aisle. Taehyung’s sure he’s supposed to move, probably follow, but he’s rooted to the spot, captivated by the pianist. Their eyes connect again and there’s heat there, appraisal. A small smile curls the man’s lips, maybe a smirk. A shiver runs down Taehyung’s spine. Taehyung doesn’t need any random second cousins or distant relatives, not when there’s a hot musician within reach.
- - -
The pianist is at the reception, seated at a table a few away from Taehyung, talking animatedly with a group of other men and women. They’re some of Namjoon’s friends from university, people Taehyung doesn’t know past familiar faces. Taehyung thinks it’s a little weird, why would they invite the pianist to the reception? But maybe they’re just being polite, it’s small enough that they must have had the extra space.
“Tae.”
Taehyung blinks, refocusing when an elbow bumped his side. He glances to the side, finding Jungkook watching him. “What?”
“Are you going to eat that?” Jungkook points at the half-eaten steak on Taehyung’s plate.
Taehyung scowls, tugging his plate closer to himself. “Yes,” he snaps.
Jungkook pouts at him, giving his best puppy dog eyes. “But -“
“No,” Taehyung says stiffly, “I’m hungry. If you want more you should ask Hoseok or Seokjin, maybe they’ll -“ Taehyung cuts off as he glances across the table. “Or not.”
Hoseok and Seokjin are leaning together on the other side of the table, Hoseok giggling as Seokjin feeds him bites of his steak. He’s practically cooing, leaning in to peck Hoseok’s lips after every bite.
“This is disgusting,” Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms.
Stiffening, Seokjin shoots him a dirty look. “You’re just jealous,” he snaps. “Hoseok and I are happy and you’re just a nerd with too many dating apps.”
“I’m not looking to settle down,” Jungkook says defensively, glaring across the table.
Taehyung’s pretty sure he and Jungkook are the only single people at the entire wedding, other than the pianist, hopefully. But unlike Taehyung, Jungkook’s solo status is by choice. Jungkook isn’t looking for a relationship or love, content with friendships and brief dalliances with men he meets at clubs or on dating apps. Taehyung wishes he could be that casual about it, wishes he could not care.
“Taehyung,” Hoseok begins, pulling Taehyung from his own thoughts. “Are you alright? You seemed really distracted during the wedding.”
“Oh.” Taehyung can feel himself flushing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Seokjin gives him a sympathetic look, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “You know it’s alright to not have a date, right?” He shifts a little away from Hoseok. “I’m sorry if we’re making you uncomfortable, that wasn’t cool.”
“You’re fine,” Taehyung insists. He doesn’t need his friends to police themselves around him. It’s been almost a year, he’s over his ex at this point, mourned the relationship for what it was. Maybe he’s still a little hung up on what it could have been, especially if his ex hadn’t been a massive pile of trash. “Just got stuck in my thoughts.”
Hoseok frowns at him, eyes sad. “Were you thinking about him?”
Taehyung stiffens. How did they know he was ogling the pianist? How would they -
“It’s okay to still be upset about your breakup.”
Oh. Not the pianist, obviously.
“I’m not,” Taehyung says quickly. “It was just...” he trails off, gaze sliding in the side to where the dark-haired pianist is laughing at his own table. His head is thrown back and his eyes are squeezed closed, cheeks pink and mouth open in a gummy smile. Taehyung wonders what his laugh sounds like, how his voice sounds. He thinks it’s probably sweet, melodic and bright like Jimin’s. How would it sound saying Taehyung’s name?
“Taehyung.” Seokjin’s voice cuts through his thoughts again. “You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry, it’s not a big deal. I just -“ he cuts off, looking down at his plate. The remainder of his steak is gone. He jerks his head to the side, seeing Jungkook chewing quickly, cheeks stuffed. “Jungkook, come on!”
“I tried to stop him,” Hoseok sighs, shaking his head. “He’s practically an animal. Here, have another dinner roll.”
Taehyung frowns, grumbling to himself as he butters a roll and Seokjin refills his wine glass. The pianist is probably with one of those men or women at the other table, no one that cute can be single.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, though he doesn’t sound it. “Do you want the rest of my veggies?”
Taehyung studies the picked over remnants of Jungkook’s mixed vegetable side. “It’s fine,” he says finally, turning away.
“So,” Hoseok says brightly, giving Taehyung a beaming smile. “What are your plans for the rest of the trip?”
“I’m flying back Monday so I just have tomorrow left.” They’ve already been in Vegas for a week. It’s been a little exhausting, everything is bright and loud and bustling with activity. Home isn’t much better, living in New York City is just as loud and busy, but at least he can escape to his quiet apartment. They’ve spent a lot of time exploring and enjoying themselves, Taehyung has definitely had fun, though he’s been almost perpetually hungover. He’s ready to sleep for three days straight. “Are you guys staying?”
“A few more days,” Seokjin answers, “we wanted to have a little more fun.”
Jungkook pretends to gag on Taehyung’s other side. “I saw your fun,” he says, not looking up from where he’s now glued to the screen of his phone. Taehyung can see him swiping on a dating app. “You were all over that guy at the club the other night. I was very impressed that Hobi could dance with his tongue that far down someone’s throat.”
Taehyung blinks at Jungkook and turns his attention across the table. Seokjin and Hoseok are both pink cheeked and wide eyed. “What?” he deadpans.
“It’s no big deal,” Hoseok says a little too loudly, waving his hands. “We’re just having fun! You know, just, um, exploring some new dynamics and experimenting with -“
“I feel like I’m listening to my parents talk about having sex,” Jungkook groans, slumping in his chair.
Seokjin snorts. “Love is a beautiful thing, Jungkook. Just because you’re emotionally repressed doesn’t mean that everyone is. Hobi and I have a lot of love to share and -“
“Yeah, no, Jungkook is right,” Taehyung interrupts. “This is like getting the sex talk.”
“You’re both no fun,” Hoseok whines. “When did you get to be such prudes? Tae, I walked in on you and Jimin making out, like, a hundred times in college.”
Jungkook looks up from his phone, eyes wide. “You kissed Jimin?”
“No!” Taehyung nearly shouts. “Well, yes, but it was just for practice.”
“Practice,” Seokjin echoes, arching an eyebrow. “Right. You’re just as disgusting as we are.”
“Yeah, but you’re old,” Jungkook counters, shrugging.
“I’ll show you old!” Seokjin gets to his feet. “Come on, babe, that waiter was totally checking out your ass earlier. Let’s make a friend.” They saunter away, Seokjin’s hand pressed possessively to Hoseok’s ass.
“I feel like I need a shower,” Taehyung mumbles, draining his wine glass.
Reaching over Taehyung’s plate, Jungkook plucks the remainder of Taehyung’s dinner roll from his napkin and pops it into his mouth.
“Jungkook!” Taehyung snaps, glaring at his friend in disbelief.
“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles around a mouthful of bread. “The steak was so small, Tae. I’m a growing boy!”
Taehyung huffs, reaching for the wine bottle to refill his glass. “You’re twenty-three, Kook, I think you’re done growing.”
“Maybe with that attitude,” Jungkook grumbles, sinking down in his chair again.
“Want to dance with me?” Taehyung asks. He’s bored enough and the dance floor is filling up. Jimin and Namjoon are in the center, Jimin giggling as Namjoon bops to the rhythm of a pop song.
“Maybe later.” Jeongguk doesn’t look up from his phone. “Wanna help me swipe?”
The wine bottle is, unfortunately, empty, and Taehyung still feels disappointingly sober. “No, I -” he breaks off. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you want anything?”
“Nah, just let me know when it’s time for cake.”
Rolling his eyes, Taehyung pushes himself up from the table and heads to the bar along the wall. He spots Seokjin and Hoseok on his way, the two of them clearly flirting heavily with a blushing young man in a waiter’s uniform. Jimin and Namjoon are still on the dance floor, now swaying together to a slower song. Jimin’s arms are locked around Namjoon’s neck and they’re beaming, eyes only for each other.
Taehyung’s heart lurches as he takes them in, their happiness so apparent. It’s obvious how in love they are and Taehyung has a hard time tempering his jealousy. He really needs another drink. Turning his head, he focuses in front of himself just in time to collide with someone else.
“Oh!” Taehyung stumbles backwards. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
And of course it’s him, it’s the pianist. Standing in line for a drink, minding his own business, and now he’s looking over his shoulder and blinking at Taehyung in confusion. As Taehyung watches, the confusion melts away and he smiles, something small and curious. “Are you following me?”
“What?” Taehyung blurts. He must look ridiculous, frozen in place and wide eyed as he takes in the man in front of him. The man who he just ran into like a weirdo. He’s even prettier up close, features almost delicate, with skin as smooth and pale as porcelain. He’s shorter than Taehyung, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He’s lean, petite, gorgeous.
“You keep staring at me.” The man laughs, cocking his head to the side. “Is there something on my face?”
Yes. A cute button nose, pouty lips, those long delicate eyelashes. Oh god, he’s noticed Taehyung staring. He must think Taehyung is a giant creep. Taehyung has not had nearly enough wine for him to be able to blame what he says next on alcohol. “You’re just very cute.”
There’s a beat of silence, the man’s eyes widening in surprise. “Oh.” The surprise melts away and he smiles again, soft and genuine. Taehyung can see a hint of pearly white teeth and pink gums. His eyes crease a little and he holds out a hand. “I’m Yoongi.”
“Taehyung.” He takes Yoongi’s offered hands and shakes it. Their palms slide together and Yoongi’s hands are big, with long bony fingers. Taehyung knew this, he had seen Yoongi’s hands on the piano, but they feel so different in his own. Callused fingertips, the backs of his hands veiny, his grip firm and strong. He doesn’t want to let go, does so only reluctantly. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Yoongi’s smile grows, the teeth and gums revealed in full. He’s so pretty when he smiles, even prettier when he smiles at Taehyung. “It’s an open bar.”
“Oh.” Taehyung you idiot. “Right.” Embarrassment surges through him but Yoongi’s still smiling. “I could, um, order you a drink?”
“Whiskey sour,” Yoongi responds. “With a lemon.”
Taehyung orders for them, a madras for himself and the whiskey sour for Yoongi. When he takes them, he looks around until he finds Yoongi again, standing a few feet away, watching him. “With a lemon,” he announces as he hands over the drink.
“Thank you.” Yoongi accepts the glass, their fingers brushing again as Taehyung passes it to him.
There’s a moment of silence as they both sip from their drinks. Taehyung wonders if he should just go back to his seat, help Jungkook find a hot cabana boy to hook up with. But when he looks up, Jungkook is no longer at their table. Sweeping his eyes over the reception hall, Taehyung finds him slipping out a side door, tugging his tie off his neck. Figures. He could just go back to his room and watch a documentary or -
“I saw you at the altar,” Yoongi says suddenly, pulling Taehyung from his thoughts. “You were Jimin’s best man?”
Taehyung nods, wondering if Yoongi noticed him staring during the ceremony too. “Yeah, we’ve been best friends since college.”
“Nice,” Yoongi says, sipping at his drink again. His tongue darts over his bottom lip after, collecting any stray drops. Taehyung follows the movement, watching Yoongi’s pretty pink tongue dip into the corner of his mouth before it disappears again. “Namjoon and I met in college too.”
“That’s cool.” Wait. “You know Namjoon?”
Yoongi blinks at him. “Of course I do, and Jimin. Why else would I be here?”
“I thought you were just playing the piano...” Taehyung mumbles. He feels a little ridiculous. Of course this makes more sense, why Yoongi would be at the ceremony and why he would be seated with Namjoon’s college friends.
“It was a favor, Namjoon asked if I wouldn’t mind playing. I am, obviously, a pianist.” He shrugs, taking another sip of his drink.
“But I - we’ve never met.” Taehyung is aware he sounds a little petulant. How has he never met Yoongi? How did he not even know about him? Taehyung is going to have to have words with Jimin for hiding this supremely hot musician from him.
“I’ve been living in LA for the past few years,” he explains. “I actually just moved back to New York last month. I’ve been getting settled, starting a new job, you know. Haven’t had much time for anything else.”
That makes sense. “Oh. What do you, um, do? Or do you just play the piano for, like, an orchestra or something?”
Yoongi chuckles, seeming somehow endeared by Taehyung’s babbling. “I’m a professor, music composition and theory, piano, you know.” He waves a hand, as if encompassing a broad range of subjects. “I was teaching at UCLA, I got a job at Julliard.”
“Oh, wow, that’s - you must be really good.” Yoongi cocks an eyebrow and Taehyung continues. “I mean, you are good, or from what I’ve seen. You seem really talented and -“ he breaks off, snaps his mouth closed. He’s never like this, he never finds it this hard to talk to people. “I’m a graphic designer.” Taehyung pauses. “And I like to paint, for fun.”
“That’s really cool, I’d love to see your paintings sometime,” Yoongi says casually.
“I - you would?”
Yoongi shrugs and drains the last of his drink through the tiny straw. “Sure.” His eyes drop from Taehyung’s face to the mostly full glass in his hand. “Is that good?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung says immediately, “vodka, cranberry, orange juice.” He extends the glass. “Do you want to -“
He doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence before Yoongi’s fingers curl around his wrist, lifting Taehyung’s hand towards his mouth. Yoongi keeps their eyes locked together, eyeing Taehyung over the rim of the glass as he closes his lips around the straw. Taehyung’s heart skips a beat as Yoongi purses his lips around the straw and sucks, sipping some of the sunset-colored drink. If Yoongi wasn’t holding his wrist, Taehyung’s pretty sure he would have dropped the glass.
Yoongi pulls away, licking his lips again. “It’s good,” he says, voice slightly husky. “Sweet.”
Taehyung’s brain seems to be rebooting. He opens his mouth to ask if he wants another drink, or maybe to agree, but instead he goes one step further. “Do you want to dance?”
Blinking in surprise, Yoongi cocks his head to the side and seems to consider Taehyung for a moment. “Okay.”
- - -
The music is bright and bubbly, something easy to dance to. Yoongi is cute, shimmying and swaying along to the music as he smiles at Taehyung. They move together, close but not touching, as they dance. Taehyung can’t help but throw in a few silly dance moves, watching Yoongi’s shoulders shake and eyes crease as he laughs. It’s fun, surprisingly easy to wiggle and bounce along to the rhythm. Taehyung extends a hand and takes Yoongi’s own, leading him in a dramatic spin that has Yoongi grinning.
Yoongi doesn’t let go of his hand when he comes back around, smiling at Taehyung with his gummy grin. Taehyung smiles back, feeling swept away, caught up in the music. It’s only natural for them to move closer. Like magnets, drawn together until mere inches separate them. Taehyung feels pulled in, unable to take his eyes off of Yoongi’s smile, the way he throws his head back and laughs when Taehyung dips him.
Their eyes meet, Yoongi staring up at him with slightly parted lips as Taehyung holds him by the small of his back. He wants to kiss him. He helps him up instead, as the song draws to a close and Yoongi laughs again, breathless and bright. Taehyung can’t hold back his own smile, caught up in Yoongi’s glee. Maybe they can have another drink together, talk a little more. But the music changes, moving from something bright and bubbly to something headier, dirtier. Taehyung begins to step back, but Yoongi moves forward.
Arms snake around Taehyung’s neck and Yoongi is close, so close, chest nearly pressed to Taehyung’s. He’s staring up through his lashes, eyes dark and lips parted and slick. “Do you want to...”
“Yeah,” Taehyung breathes, wrapping his own arms around Yoongi’s waist and pulling him in. They press together now, chests flush and hips meeting as they begin to move to the music.
Yoongi is fluid, rolling his hips to the beat in winding circles. Taehyung presses a hand against Yoongi’s lower back, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. Their bodies move easily together, slotting perfectly into place as they dance. Taehyung figures they shouldn’t do this, be so close, dance like this, but there’s a dizzying buzz of alcohol in his body and Yoongi is warm and small in his arms. His hands roam, sliding along Yoongi’s back, one tracing along his thigh and up his ribs. Yoongi’s hands stay around his neck, though one slides into his hair, combing through the strands. It’s intimate and Taehyung can’t help but pull him even closer, their mouths millimeters apart, Yoongi’s breath fanning across his lips.
The song ends, something slow starts, and the spell is broken. They step back quickly, almost hastily. Yoongi’s face is flushed, sweat glistening at his temples and making his bangs stick to his forehead a little. Taehyung knows he must be just as flushed, just as sweaty. Yoongi licks his lips and looks away, his cheeks seeming even pinker.
Taehyung swallows, he doesn’t want to lose this, doesn’t want Yoongi to go. He wants to continue this, even if they just talk or dance. But they’re standing here in the center of the dance floor, looking awkward and out of place and couples sway beside him. Yoongi is wavering, glancing to the side like he wants to flee. Taehyung takes a chance. “Drink?”
Yoongi’s eyes snap back to him and he studies Taehyung for a moment before his smile returns. It’s sly this time, something flashing in his eyes as he nods. “Come on.” He reaches for Taehyung’s hand, linking their fingers and pulls him toward one of the tables by the bar. There are bottles of champagne on ice and Yoongi looks over his shoulder, checking no one is watching, before plucking one from the ice and nodding toward the exit.
There’s no hesitation when Taehyung follows.
- - -
The pop of the champagne cork seems loud in the quiet space they’ve found. Yoongi curses softly, holding the bottle away from himself as bubbles cascade over his hand. “A little messier than intended,” he admits, shooting Taehyung a quick smile.
They’re on a small patio with low tables and chairs, tucked in a quiet area surrounded by plants and a low fence. Taehyung honestly has no idea where exactly they are or how Yoongi found this place, but it’s deserted and calm. Taehyung sinks into one of the chairs and Yoongi takes the other, pushing the table out of the way to scoot closer. Their knees nearly brush as Yoongi leans in, offering the bottle of champagne.
“So…” Yoongi begins, smiling as Taehyung takes a pull from the bottle.
Taehyung licks his lips, passing the bottle back to Yoongi. “So… are you here alone?”
“No,” Yoongi says immediately and Taehyung’s heart falls. Of course he’s not here alone, Yoongi is so pretty and - “I’m with you.” Yoongi chuckles at Taehyung’s expression. “But if you mean am I at the wedding alone, the answer is yes.” Yoongi sips from the bottle before offering it again. “And if you mean am I single, the answer is also yes.”
Oh. Well then. “That’s… good to know.”
“Is it?” Yoongi asks, crossing one leg over the other.
“We should play twenty questions,” Taehyung suggests. He is trying not to be hyper aware of the fact that Yoongi’s lips were just on the champagne bottle. Tries not to think about the fact that it’s almost like a kiss. “So we can get to know each other.”
There’s a pause as Yoongi accepts the bottle again and tilts his head. “You want to get to know me?”
“Yes.” So badly. “Do you want to play?”
Yoongi takes a long swallow from the bottle before answering. Taehyung watches him drink, watches his Adam’s apple bob, and then Yoongi is licking his lips and passing the champagne over. “Yeah, let’s play. You go first.”
"Okay." Taehyung takes a moment to think, tapping his fingers against the champagne bottle. "What's your favorite color?"
"Blue," Yoongi answers. "Yours?"
Taehyung sips from the bottle and passes it back to Yoongi. "Green. Do you have any pets?"
"No, but I had a dog growing up. Do you?"
"Not right now." Taehyung watches Yoongi take a swig from the bottle. "I'm thinking about getting a dog, I work from home." And he's lonely. He shifts in his seat. "Is your line of work what you thought you'd be doing?"
"No." Yoongi hands the bottle back. "I thought I'd be a rapper. What about you?"
"You can't just ask the same questions," Taehyung huffs. "That's not how it works."
Yoongi sighs, waving a hand. "Fine, fine. But after this one, I want to know."
"Fine," Taehyung relents. "No, I wanted to be a painter or some other kind of visual artist." Graphic design often feels like a poor substitute. "Can you keep a plant alive?"
Yoongi snorts and reaches for the champagne. "Not at all. Have you ever committed a crime?"
Chuckling, Taehyung nods. "I stole a candy bar once when I was seven. My mom caught me and made me bring it back."
"Goodness," Yoongi gasps in mock horror. "I can't believe I let a hardened criminal buy me a drink."
"It was an open bar," Taehyung retorts and Yoongi laughs, tipping forward in his chair. Their knees bump together as Yoongi shifts. Taehyung feels a little breathless, watching Yoongi shake with mirth, looking so pretty and sweet. He waits for Yoongi to sit up again and pass him the champagne bottle before continuing. "Are you close with your family?"
"Kind of." Yoongi shrugs. "They moved back to Korea a few years ago. I see my older brother sometimes." He doesn’t seem bothered. Taehyung's own parents are a quick train ride away on Long Island, he can't imagine them being so far away. "Favorite ice cream flavor?"
"Vanilla." Taehyung sips from the bottle and holds it out.
"Boring," Yoongi snorts, accepting the bottle. Their fingers fumble over one another as he takes it.
"It isn't!" Taehyung insists. "You can dress it up with all sorts of toppings, the possibilities are endless. You don't have to limit yourself that way."
"Oh." Yoongi looks surprised. "That's kind of nice."
"It is," Taehyung agrees. "It's all about what you make of it." He's not sure he's talking about ice cream anymore. The champagne is starting to go to his head. His fingers and toes tingle and he feels looser, relaxed. He searches his mind for another question. "Favorite type of lettuce?"
"Lettuce?" Taehyung nods and Yoongi hums thoughtfully. "Butter lettuce, I guess. I hate the frizzy, spikey kind. It always gets stuck in my throat."
"Me too!"
They smile at each other for a moment and then Yoongi takes a sip from the bottle, tilting it high to drink. "Favorite band when you were in high school?"
"Oh man." Taehyung shoves a hand through his hair and reaches for the champagne. "Probably My Chemical Romance or something." He brings the bottle to his lips and drinks. They're nearing the end, which seems a bit impossible. But it makes sense, with the way Taehyung feels a little floaty.
"Very edgy."
"Thank you," Taehyung says primly. "I'm very cool." He hands Yoongi the bottle, watches him drink and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why didn't you become a rapper?"
Yoongi laughs, but it's humorless, a little stiff. "It's hard to become a rapper, Taehyung. I wasn't good enough, I was a skinny Asian kid in over my head. I'm better at piano." Yoongi frowns and shrugs. "Why didn't you become a painter?"
"Touche." Taehyung salutes him with the bottle Yoongi passes him. "Same reasons. And my parents wouldn't pay for art school." Graphic design was even a fight, they wanted him to have a real job. "Why did you move back to New York City?"
"I missed being near friends." Yoongi reaches for the bottle. "And I missed the winter. Not the cold, but I love snow." He eyes the bottle, the low level of the liquid at the bottom. He takes a small sip. "Biggest pet peeve?"
Taehyung considers for a moment, tapping his lips with his fingers. "I think I'm pretty easy going, but maybe… people who talk on their phones really loudly in public. Like in restaurants and stores. Especially if they're ordering or checking out or something. It's so rude."
"Very rude," Yoongi agrees, nodding along.
"What's your favorite sea creature?"
Yoongi hums and passes the champagne bottle to Taehyung. "Lobster. They're delicious. What's your favorite food?"
Taehyung tilts the bottle, draining the last of the bubbly liquid. "Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. Or watermelon." He sets the bottle on the ground beside his chair with a clink. It tips and rolls away, Yoongi giggles as it does. Taehyung glances at him, seeing his eyes are a little glassy, cheeks pink. Taehyung isn't the only one affected by the alcohol. "How did you meet Namjoon?"
"Ah, freshman year of college." Yoongi leans forward again, bringing them closer together. "He tripped in front of me in the dining hall. Took my tray of food with him and hit his head on a table. I had to practically carry him to the health center." Yoongi smiles at the memory. "We've been friends ever since."
Taehyung laughs, leaning back a little to slump in his chair. "Sounds very Namjoon."
"Exactly." Yoongi pauses, studying him for a moment. "Why did you look so sad?"
Taehyung straightens, confused. "What?"
"At the altar," Yoongi explains, "while we were all waiting for Jimin. You looked sad."
"Oh, I -" Taehyung breaks off, swallows. He hadn't realized it was so noticeable. He looks down at his hands. "I went through a bad breakup a few months ago. And it - it feels a little like I'm losing my best friend."
"I'm sorry," Yoongi says gently. Taehyung startles, looking up when he feels a hand slide over his knee. Yoongi gives him a soft smile. "I get it. I didn't mean to stir up bad feelings."
Taehyung resists the urge to hold Yoongi's hand, he gives a clumsy smile in return. "It's okay." Yoongi withdraws his hand and Taehyung feels suddenly cold. "What's your last name?"
"Min. What's yours?" Yoongi holds up a hand, fixing Taehyung with a stern look. "Don't get mad at me for asking the same question."
Taehyung smiles, feeling some of the sadness leech out of him. "Kim."
"Like Namjoon."
"Yes. No relation, not to Seokjin either. I'm sure you know how common Kim is as a last name." Yoongi grins and Taehyung continues. "How many dogs is too many?"
"Trick question," Yoongi says dismissively. "You can never have too many dogs."
"You're so right, Mr. Min."
Yoongi laughs. "Thank you, Mr. Kim. Fancy restaurant or hole in the wall?"
"Hole in the wall." He'd love to take Yoongi to some of his favorite spots. Dimly lit noodle bars and tiny diners tucked in hard to find places. Yoongi smiling at him from across a booth, neon light dancing in his eyes. "Something hidden and out of the way, with the greasiest, best burgers."
"The greasier the better," Yoongi agrees.
"A man of culture. Crunchy or soft tacos?"
"Soft, I cut my lip once on a crunchy taco shell." Taehyung snorts and Yoongi points an accusing finger at him. "It can happen! How about you, the dumbest way you ever hurt yourself?"
Taehyung hums as he tries to think. "I tried to do a flip to beat Jungkook once, off the bar at a party."
"Oh my god…"
"Oh, no," Taehyung continues. "I didn't even get to attempt it. I slipped on a Jello shot, did a split right on top of the bar and ripped my pants. Pulled a muscle in my groin."
"Oh my -" Yoongi dissolves into wheezy laughter, leaving forward and bracing his hands on Taehyung's legs. His fingers squeeze into Taehyung's thighs, warm through the fabric. "That's bad," he says when he finally sits up. He pulls back, hands sliding along Taehyung’s legs until they lift from the fabric. "So bad."
"I'm aware." Taehyung leans back in his chair again, studying Yoongi. He looks happy, softly smiling and lounging in his chair, loose limbed from the champagne. There are low lights on the patio, making Yoongi's hair glow a little, the dark waves shining and catching the light when he moves his head. His eyes sparkle, red brown gaze fixed on Taehyung. Taehyung doesn’t know where his next question comes from. "Would you fuck a ghost?"
Yoongi blinks at him, suddenly stiffening. "Excuse me?"
"Would you," Taehyung repeats, "fuck a ghost?”
There's a moment where Taehyung thinks he's gone too far, that Yoongi will call him a creep and leave. But Yoongi snorts and shrugs, rolling his eyes. "Depends on if the ghost is hot." Yoongi's smile is sly, pleased. "Have you ever gone skinny dipping?"
"Yes, a couple times." There's a pool at the fancy hotel and casino they're at. They could skinny dip right now. "Have you ever done body shots?"
Yoongi's lips twitch and he cocks his head to the side. "Taking them or…" he pauses, his tongue digs into the inside of his cheek. "Being the recipient?"
"Um." Taehyung clears his throat, looking at the slick pink of Yoongi's lips. "Either?"
"One, not the other." Taehyung stares and Yoongi laughs, tossing his head. "I've never taken them," he clarifies.
If Yoongi hasn't taken them then… oh. Taehyung lets his gaze sweep over Yoongi's body, over the well-fitting dress shirt. Taehyung wonders what he looks like beneath it, if he's thin and toned like he seems. Is he pale all over? Maybe dusted with pink like his knuckles and cheeks. "Cool," Taehyung croaks.
Yoongi giggles, eyes creasing. "Smooth, Taehyung."
"I -"
Yoongi waves a hand between them. "You're cute."
Oh.
Yoongi grins at him. "What's the weirdest place you've had sex?"
"I worked at a restaurant part-time in college. So probably, um, the walk in there…"
Yoongi blinks at him, looking impressed. "You had sex in a walk-in freezer?"
"Well, it was the fridge. And it was just a blowjob."
"I hope it wasn't during work hours," Yoongi teases.
Taehyung chuckles. "Certainly not, I would never participate in time theft." Yoongi snorts and Taehyung smiles before continuing. "It was after hours."
"Very adventurous." Yoongi's eyes flash, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
Taehyung is starting to feel a little warm. Yoongi is very pretty, very pretty and very hot. And he's flirting, he must be flirting. "Have you ever been spanked?"
Yoongi cocks an eyebrow but doesn't react further. He crosses his legs again, the side of his foot resting against Taehyung's shin. "Yes."
"Did you like it?" Taehyung blurts, tongue feeling suddenly too big for his mouth.
"It's not your turn," Yoongi scolds. "What do you like in bed?"
"Everything," Taehyung says quickly. He leans forward as Yoongi laughs. "Did you like it?"
"Like what?" Yoongi asks, blinking innocently.
Taehyung reaches out and places his hand on Yoongi's knee, squeezing his leg through his pants. "Did you like being spanked?"
There's a charged moment where they stare at each other, Yoongi's eyes are dark and sharp, studying him. "Yes, Taehyung."
Fingers contracting on Yoongi's leg, Taehyung fights not to choke on his saliva. Yoongi is staring at him like he wants to eat him. Or maybe he wants Taehyung to do the eating, Taehyung doesn't care. He's down for anything. He's about to say it when -
Yoongi's face abruptly changes, the dark, confident look vanishes and he curls in a little. He laughs, a little breathy and embarrassed. It's adorable, he’s clearly flustered, his cheeks turning pink. "Why do you want to know so much about me anyway?" he asks.
Taehyung keeps his hand on Yoongi's knee, thumb stroking softly through the fabric. "Why wouldn't I?" He feels fond, suddenly. Yoongi is undeniably sexy, completely gorgeous. Taehyung wouldn't mind getting him into bed, would love that. But he's just as happy talking to him, would like to keep talking to him. "You're interesting."
"Oh." Yoongi smiles, shy and sweet. "You are too." They stare at each other, eyes searching, until Yoongi speaks. "I think it's your turn," he whispers.
Taehyung leans in almost unconsciously. "Can I kiss you?"
Yoongi licks his lips, eyes flitting from Taehyung's eyes to his mouth, back up. "Yeah," he breathes, leaning into Taehyung's space. "Yeah."
Soft, sweet, warm. Yoongi’s lips feel amazing against his own, pressing tentatively against Taehyung’s as they lean into each other. There’s a small pause, where they both seem to be waiting. Taehyung worries Yoongi will pull away, will move back and this will be over. But he leans close instead, hand pressed into Taehyung’s leg, and moves his lips. Their lips slide together, a gentle glide that has Taehyung’s already cotton-filled head spinning.
Taehyung’s kissed people before, objectively maybe a lot of people. He doesn’t know exactly how many people he’s kissed or how many times he’s kissed any of them. But it’s probably a good amount, a whole bunch. But this - something about this moment, Yoongi leaning into his space and tilting his head just right to connect their lips more firmly, well - this is different. It’s probably the best first kiss Taehyung’s ever had, and he’s pretty sure that’s not the champagne talking.
Shifting in his chair, Taehyung moves closer, positioning his legs to slot one on either side of one of Yoongi’s. Yoongi matches him, moving close and sliding his hand to Taehyung’s hip, fingers pressing hot through Taehyung’s shirt. He brings his own hand up to cup Yoongi’s cheek, fingers cradling his jaw. It feels natural to deepen the kiss, to sweep his tongue along the seam of Yoongi’s lips.
And Yoongi responds in kind, parting his lips to meet Taehyung’s tongue with his own. They curl together, gentle and searching, making Taehyung feel a little breathless. Yoongi tastes sweet like champagne, like bubbles exploding on Taehyung’s tongue. And beneath that, the sharp woodiness of the whiskey, an intoxicating cocktail that has Taehyung wanting more. He’s not really thinking when he does it, sliding his hand down Yoongi’s side and bringing up the other to wrap them both around his waist. It’s quick, an easy tug and Yoongi is moving, climbing from his own chair and into Taehyung’s lap.
Their lips stay connected as Yoongi settles with his legs on either side of Taehyung’s thighs. They’re squished into the chair, so close as their chests press together. Both of Yoongi’s hands are on his face, cupping Taehyung’s cheeks as he licks into his mouth as if Yoongi would swallow him whole. Taehyung slides his own hands up Yoongi’s back, pressing against his shoulder blades to pull him even closer.
Tongues tangle, wet and messy, and Yoongi is making soft, breathy noises. There’s a low whine that Taehyung realizes, to his own embarrassment, is coming from his own lips. But Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, just pressing as close as he can and kissing Taehyung harder. Teeth sink into Taehyung’s bottom lip and Yoongi pulls it into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. Taehyung’s cock twitches in his pants, stirring with clear interest for the man nestled in his lap.
Opening his eyes, Taehyung finds Yoongi watching him already. His gaze is dark and heavy lidded, his eyes dark wells - hungry, wanting. Yoongi releases his lip with a pop and they both take a moment to breathe, chests heaving as they stare at each other. Taehyung swallows hard, slips his hands down to Yoongi’s waist, dances his fingers over the curve of his ass. Yoongi arches against him, pressing into the touch.
“Do you -” Taehyung breaks off, swallows again. His voice is hoarse, fucked out already. “Do you want to come up to my room?”
Yoongi grins, those dark eyes flashing again. “I thought you’d never ask.”
- - -
Taehyung shoves Yoongi against the wall in the elevator, caging him in with his body and attaching his lips to his neck. Yoongi’s hands clutch at his arms, head thrown back to bare his throat. They move together, Taehyung’s thigh between Yoongi’s leg as Yoongi grinds against him, breathy gasps leaving his lips. The column of Yoongi’s throat is moon white and soft as velvet beneath his lips. Taehyung trails his lips over the warm skin, nipping and sucking in turns up to Yoongi’s ear.
A soft moan escapes Yoongi’s lips as Taehyung nips at the shell of his ear and sucks at his earlobe. Fingers grip into Taehyung’s biceps as Yoongi whines, pressing harder into Taehyung’s thigh. Yoongi is hard against him and Taehyung isn’t faring much better, his erection pressing almost painfully against his zipper. His fingers are working at untying Yoongi’s bowtie when the elevator dings.
The sound of a clearing throat has Taehyung pulling away from Yoongi’s neck. They both turn, taking in an older couple watching them from the open doors. Taehyung slowly peels himself away from Yoongi’s front, trying to surreptitiously shield his erection from view.
“Um,” Taehyung begins, taking Yoongi’s hand to pull him away from the wall. “Sorry, we uh -” The couple glares at them and Taehyung breaks off. “We’ll just be -” He glances at the floor number and tugs Yoongi with him, slipping past the couple. “Sorry!” Taehyung calls a final time over his shoulder.
He drags Yoongi behind him, practically running as Yoongi begins to giggle. Taehyung can’t help himself, bursting into his own giddy laughter as they reach his room. The slump against the wall, hands locked on each other’s forearms as they catch their breath.
“Oops,” Yoongi breathes, grinning wide and open.
Taehyung snorts and fishes his keycard from his pocket, pressing it against the lock and swinging the door open. He gestures Yoongi into the room and follows him, shoving the door closed. There’s a momentary pause where they stare at each other again, a tense beat of silence. And then Yoongi moves, leaping into Taehyung’s arms to crash their lips back together. Taehyung catches him with hands beneath his thighs and shoves Yoongi up against the wall, kissing him breathless.
Yoongi feels practically weightless in his arms, warm and pliant beneath Taehyung’s hands and lips. It’s easy to press him into the wall and let hands roam, unbuttoning shirts and dropping them to the floor. Yoongi is just as pale and toned as Taehyung expected, an expanse of smooth, unblemished skin that has his mouth watering. A pink blush climbs Yoongi’s chest up to his neck and his rosy nipples are pebbled before Taehyung even manages to get his mouth on them.
But when he does, the sound Yoongi makes goes straight to Taehyung’s cock. A strangled groan as he throws his head back, skull thunking against plaster. His hands dig into Yoongi’s thighs, squeezing toned flesh and sliding up to grip his ass. Yoongi’s hands are tangled in Taehyung’s hair, pulling him closer and pushing him away in turn as Taehyung laves over the skin of his chest.
“Fuck,” Yoongi gasps when Taehyung sinks his teeth into the skin around Yoongi’s nipple. “Bed, Taehyung, bed.”
Taehyung lets Yoongi down, grabbing him by the waist to kiss him again. They begin shuffling toward the bed, hands fumbling with buttons and zippers as they try to get their pants off. It’s hurried and frantic, Taehyung feels like his body’s on fire as Yoongi callused fingers shove his pants and briefs down to his knees. Taehyung trips, feet tangled in his pants and fingers nearly knotted in Yoongi’s underwear. They crash together, falling onto the bed in a jumble of limbs.
Groaning, Yoongi shoves himself onto an elbow and shimmies the rest of the way out of his pants, stripping Taehyung’s off after. Taehyung’s barely caught his breath by the time Yoongi is climbing over him, settling astride Taehyung’s hips and pressing their groins together. Taehyung moans, much louder and needier than he meant to, as their cocks rub together.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Taehyung growls, hands sliding up Yoongi’s thighs to settle at his hips.
And Yoongi is, pretty and pale with soft skin and smooth, thin legs. But he’s masculine, with hard angles and edges that look sharp enough to cut. Broad shoulders and big hands that are sliding slowly up Taehyung’s chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Yoongi is undeniably handsome, so sexy, with a smirk that makes Taehyung want to hold him down and fuck him into the mattress. But there’s a softness too, a sweet edge that has Taehyung wanting to pamper, to worship. Maybe he can do both.
“Look at you,” Yoongi purrs. “Saw you staring at me all night, didn’t think I had a chance.” His fingertips brush Taehyung’s nipples and Taehyung arches, their erections grinding together again. “Can’t believe I’ve got you here.”
“Technically,” Taehyung gasps, trying not to tremble beneath Yoongi’s touch, his heady gaze, “I’ve got you here. This is my room.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes and swivels his hips, making Taehyung choke out a gasp. “You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Yoongi teases, folding over Taehyung’s torso to hover over him. “Wanna suck you off,” Yoongi whispers, breath ghosting over Taehyung’s lips. “You’ve got such a pretty dick.” Taehyung barely holds in a whine, eyes fluttering closed as Yoongi presses their lips together in a kiss that’s much too sweet for his filthy words. “Can I?” His tongue flicks out, teasing over Taehyung’s lips.
“Yeah, fuck,” Taehyung groans. “Yes.” He wishes he had been a little more eloquent, especially when Yoongi chuckles, but he can’t help it. His brain is buzzing with the lingering effects of the champagne and Yoongi. Yoongi naked on top of him, Yoongi brushing their lips together, Yoongi’s hands sliding back down his ribs as he pushes himself up again. Yoongi’s dark eyes and kiss swollen lips, Yoongi’s snowy skin dusted pink like rose petals.
Yoongi begins to slide down, leaving featherlight kisses along Taehyung chest and sternum, and Taehyung’s brain roars with static. The only thing in his mind, as Yoongi’s tongue trails from his navel down, down, down is Yoongi. Yoongi’s mouth on his skin, Yoongi’s fingers on his cock, and as Yoongi’s tongue flicks out to lap at the head of his dick, Taehyung’s mind explodes. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.
It’s clear he likes to tease, gripping Taehyung by the base as he licks from base to tip. Little kitten licks and soft presses of his lips as he settles himself between Taehyung’s legs, humming happily with each wet kiss to Taehyung’s tip. Taehyung forces his eyes open, looking down the line of his body to watch Yoongi between his legs. He’s lying on his stomach, legs in the air with his ankles crossed, looking perfectly at ease. But his eyes -
Fuck. Yoongi’s watching him, eyes dark and hooded as his tongue traces from the base to the tip of Taehyung’s cock. Taehyung can’t look away, electricity humming through his body from the way Yoongi holds him pinned. It’s only when Yoongi parts those pretty pouty lips, sliding them over the head of Taehyung’s cock, that Taehyung can look away. It’s involuntary, his eyes sliding closed as he moans.
One hand fists in the sheets and Taehyung brings the other to Yoongi’s hair, sliding his fingers through the soft, dark waves. Yoongi hums in satisfaction, the vibration making Taehyung moan again. One hand fists in the sheets and Taehyung brings the other to Yoongi’s hair, sliding his fingers through the soft, dark waves. Yoongi hums in satisfaction, the vibration making Taehyung moan again. Yoongi’s tongue curls around his length, teasing the underside of Taehyung’s cock as he sinks down. His mouth is so warm, the tight heat sucking Taehyung down until Yoongi’s nose is nearly pressed to his pelvis.
Taehyung sees stars, his head spinning from champagne and the feeling of Yoongi’s lips, his twining tongue. He begins bobbing his head, tongue still teasing and sliding with every movement. It’s messy, Taehyung can feel saliva dripping down his balls. And the sounds, wet and lewd, have his thighs tensing already. He shouldn’t be so worked up so soon, Yoongi’s barely gotten started. But his mouth - fuck.
Opening his eyes again, Taehyung looks down to see Yoongi with his eyes now closed. His lips are stretched obscenely around Taehyung’s cock, cheeks pink and eyelashes looking a little wet. Taehyung runs his fingers through Yoongi’s hair again before trailing down, tracing the curve of his jaw. Yoongi stops bobbing his head, pulling back to suckle at the head of Taehyung’s cock and stare at him. His eyes are glassy and hooded, dark with want.
Taehyung thumbs at Yoongi’s lips, tugging at the corner of his mouth to see how much further they can stretch. He looks so beautiful like this, pretty pouty lips taut and swollen, eyes shining in the low light of the bedroom. Yoongi hums around Taehyung’s cock, eliciting another groan from Taehyung’s parted lips. He lets his head fall back to the pillows as Yoongi curls his tongue around the head of his cock.
Pleasure coils low in his belly, heat filling him as Yoongi so easily takes him apart. His release is so close, thighs trembling as he hovers just on the edge of -
His eyes snap open as Yoongi’s mouth suddenly leaves him and his orgasm is ripped away. “Wha -“
“Fuck me,” Yoongi rasps, voice low and thick. “Want you to fuck me.”
“Shit,” Taehyung groans, cock twitching. “Yeah, fuck.”
Yoongi shifts, flopping onto his side as Taehyung sits up. Taehyung watches as Yoongi’s fingers wrap around his own cock, stroking lazily. He’s just as pretty and pink there as the rest of him, the tip shiny with precum. Taehyung wants to taste him. Next time, he promises himself and then stops - what next time?
Shaking off his thoughts, Taehyung pushes himself to his feet, stumbling a little. “I’ve got lube and condoms in my bag.”
“Do you now?” Yoongi purrs. “Thought you might get lucky, Taehyung?”
Taehyung bends, pulling the items out of the front pocket of his suitcase. “Well,” he begins, turning around and pausing. Yoongi has flipped over and is on his hands and knees, ass presented. Perky and round, smooth pale skin that Taehyung can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on. “Fuck,” he growls. “I think I did.”
Yoongi giggles, looking over his shoulder. “Maybe you did.” He tilts his head, nodding toward the bed. “Come over here.”
His feet move of their own accord, until Taehyung is standing at the edge of the bed behind Yoongi. Taehyung trails his fingers down Yoongi’s spine and over the curve of his ass, watching Yoongi arch and press into him. He can’t even believe this is happening. “You’re so hot,” he mumbles, uncapping the lube and coating his fingers.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Yoongi teases. “Come on, baby, don’t make me wait.”
Baby. Taehyung swallows hard and uses one hand to pull Yoongi’s cheek to the side, revealing his pretty pink hole. He rubs his thumb over it, feeling it flutter beneath his touch as Yoongi whines, pressing back again to get Taehyung closer. He brings up his other hand, circling Yoongi’s rim with a lubed finger. The sound Yoongi makes when he sinks his finger in to the knuckle nearly has Taehyung coming on the spot.
Yoongi opens for him easily, swallowing Taehyung’s digits greedily. Taehyung strokes along his walls, one finger quickly becoming two and then three. Yoongi is trembling before him, breathy moans punched from his chest with each thrust of Taehyung’s fingers. He brushes Yoongi’s prostate on every stroke, having Yoongi’s thighs tensing and toes curling as he mewls.
Yoongi’s rim stretches so perfectly around his fingers, glistening with lube. Taehyung’s other hand grips his hip as Yoongi moans, head hanging between his shoulders. Sliding his hand from Yoongi’s hip to his ass cheek he draws back, bringing his palm down firmly on Yoongi’s skin.
“Ah, Tae!” Yoongi gasps, arching at the sudden sting. He moans, high and needy, as Taehyung does it again.
“You do like being spanked, don’t you?”
Yoongi whines as Taehyung squeezes into his flesh, thumb digging into the pink mark his hand left. “Like it,” Yoongi rasps, hole clenching around Taehyung’s fingers.
Taehyung’s cock hangs hard and heavy between his legs, nearly aching from neglect. “You ready?” he asks, spreading his fingers to make sure Yoongi is well stretched.
“Yeah,” Yoongi gasps, “want you.”
Withdrawing his fingers, Taehyung wipes them on the bedspread and grabs a condom, tearing it open with his teeth. He hisses as he rolls the condom onto his length, the little bit of friction feeling amazing. There’s no telling how long he’s going to last, he feels like he could explode already. But god, all he wants is to be inside Yoongi right now.
Positioning himself at Yoongi’s entrance, Taehyung hikes one knee onto the bed to give him more leverage. Yoongi whimpers as Taehyung’s cockhead catches on his rim. Taehyung teases along his crack, rubbing over his hole until he finally slips inside. They moan in unison, Yoongi immediately collapsing to his elbows as the tip of Taehyung’s cock slips into him. Tight heat engulfs him, Yoongi’s walls pulling him in as Taehyung fights to control his breathing.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits out, holding Yoongi’s hip tight enough to bruise. “So fucking tight.”
“You’re so big,” Yoongi slurs, “so good, Taehyungie.”
When he’s bottomed out, Taehyung pauses for a moment, ragged breath loud in the quiet of the room. He lets his chin fall to his chest, squeezing his eyes closed as his dick twitches inside Yoongi’s ass. Fuck, he feels so good, too good. It hasn’t even been that long since he’s been with someone, he’s had a few hook ups. But somehow this feels different, better. Taehyung doesn’t think it has anything to do with the champagne they shared.
He doesn’t move until Yoongi whines again, rutting back against him. Taehyung starts slow, holding Yoongi’s hips with both hands as he pulls back. Yoongi’s waist is so slim, so narrow that Taehyung’s hands nearly wrap around his entire midsection. Taehyung's tan fingers contrast nicely with Yoongi’s pale skin, leaving patches of pink wherever he squeezes. He groans as he presses back in, pleasure coursing through his body.
The drag of his cock along Yoongi’s walls feels amazing. It’s almost difficult to set up an even pace, to find a rhythm. He has to fight off the urge to snap and fuck him into the mattress. He’d come in seconds from that, and that’s not what Taehyung wants right now. So he goes slowly, rocking his hips easily into Yoongi’s tight heat, feeling him loosen more with every roll of his hips. And Yoongi is moaning, face pressed to the mattress as he whimpers and gasps. It’s mostly wordless, but Taehyung can make out soft curses and variations of Taehyung.
It’s easy to get lost in the sensations, to let everything else melt away and focus on just Yoongi in front of him, the feeling of grinding into his body. Yoongi is rocking back against him, meeting each of Taehyung’s thrusts with small gasps. The supple curve of Yoongi’s ass jiggles with every thrust and Taehyung can’t resist squeezing into the soft flesh. Yoongi moans, hole fluttering, and Taehyung brings his arm back, landing a firm slap on his cheek.
Yoongi cries out, fingers scrabbling at the mattress as his hole clamps down on Taehyung’s cock. “Tae,” he mewls, voice broken and wet. Yoongi’s skin pinkens beneath Taehyung’s palm and he rubs over the skin, feeling the heat from the slap. He does it again, Yoongi rocking forward with a gasp. “Taehyung, please.”
“Please what?” Taehyung rasps, gritting his teeth as he squeezes Yoongi’s hips, grinding his cock deeper into him. Sweat is beading at his temples, dripping down his spine as he tries to stop himself from coming on the spot.
“Please fuck me,” Yoongi whimpers, turning his face so Taehyung can see his teary eyes, bitten lips.
Gorgeous. With a grunt, Taehyung pulls out, ignoring Yoongi’s protests, and flips him onto his back. He grabs Yoongi’s leg, hooking it around his elbow and pressing back in, watching Yoongi’s body swallow him up. Yoongi groans, eyes closing as Taehyung presses into him. Taehyung is fully on the bed now, caging Yoongi in and gripping his other leg to press against his chest. The hitch of Yoongi’s breath as Taehyung nearly folds him in half only spurs him on.
“Tae!” Yoongi keens, body tensing as Taehyung kicks his hips forward, cock hitting Yoongi’s prostate.
Yoongi’s skin dimples beneath Taehyung’s fingers, the pale flesh of his thigh turning pink beneath Taehyung’s grip. He can’t hold himself back this time, pounding into Yoongi with deep strokes, the sound of skin slapping only drowned out by Yoongi’s breathy moans and Taehyung grunts. One of Yoongi’s hands flies to grip Taehyung’s wrist where he’s holding his thigh down, fingers squeezing into Taehyung’s skin as his eyes roll in his head. Yoongi’s other hand trails down his stomach, gripping his cock to stroke it clumsily in time with Taehyung’s thrusts.
They’re both so keyed up, adrenaline and champagne making Taehyung’s body sing, his head spin. He can’t remember the last time he felt like this, so connected to someone else, so alive. Yoongi makes him feel like he’s going to explode, go careening right off the earth and crash. And he’d welcome it. Pleasure roars in his ears but Taehyung’s mind keeps slamming him back to Yoongi, Yoongi’s smile, Yoongi’s laugh, Yoongi’s blissed out face.
Keep him, his brain roars. Keep him keep him keep him.
“Taehyung, gonna - ah - gonna -” he breaks off, back arching off the bed as he cries out. Taehyung snaps back to the present, angling his thrusts to hit Yoongi’s prostate dead-on and bring him to the edge. Yoongi cries out, his release painting his fist and stomach, entire body trembling and tensing. Taehyung curses, his own release barreling into him as Yoongi’s body clamps around him.
His vision ripples as his orgasm washes over him and he fills the condom. He grips Yoongi tighter, pads of his fingers denting smooth flesh as he rides it out, rocking his hips a few more times. He’s not sure when he closed his eyes, not sure when he screwed up his entire face, but he slowly relaxes, blinking his eyes open. Yoongi is still beneath him, chest heaving and bangs plastered to his forehead by sweat. His eyes open slowly as Taehyung lets go of his leg, helping Yoongi to straighten it out. With a groan, he pulls out and flops onto the bed, feeling suddenly boneless.
Taehyung is having a hard time getting his breathing under control, though it seems like Yoongi is no better. They’re sprawled on their backs, fingers just barely brushing as they come down from their high. Pushing himself onto his elbows, Taehyung glances over at Yoongi. His eyes are closed and his chest is still heaving, pale skin covered in a pretty blush. He’s gorgeous, but that’s not all of it. Yoongi is cute and fun, Taehyung had a great time fucking him, but he also had a great time talking to him. But this is a one time thing, he’ll probably never see Yoongi again after this, at least not in this capacity. But that’s okay, they’re having a good time. He doesn’t need to feel the little twinge of regret that twists his stomach.
Shoving himself to his feet, Taehyung wobbles to the bathroom and cleans himself up. He wets a towel in the sink after and returns to the bedroom, kneeling on the bed to clean Yoongi up. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open as Taehyung is wiping his stomach clean. He smiles softly, a little sleepy, and stretches his arms over his head. When Taehyung leans back on his heels and tosses the towel away, watching as Yoongi pushes himself to a sitting position.
Yoongi stands and stretches again, arms over his head and back arching. Taehyung admires the line of his spine, the curve of his ass. “Are you leaving?”
“Do you want me to?” Yoongi asks, glancing over his shoulder.
“No,” Taehyung responds immediately. “I’d like it if you stayed, if you want to.”
“I’ll stay.” Yoongi smiles at him. “I was just going to grab a water.”
Oh. Good. “Check the mini bar.”
“It’s expensive.”
Taehyung shrugs, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows. “Jimin and Namjoon are paying.”
“Well then…” Yoongi grins and moves toward the little fridge, stooping a bit to open it. “The night is young,” Yoongi drawls, reaching into the fridge and pulling out two bottles of champagne. “Wanna have more fun?”
Taehyung matches his grin, heartbeat picking up. “Party’s just getting started.”
- - -
It’s warm, sticky with sunlight filtering in through the curtains to assault Taehyung’s eyes behind his lids. His head throbs and Taehyung feels a little like he’s been run over by a truck. He shifts beneath the blanks and freezes, realizing he’s not alone. Peeling his eyes open, he glances down. Fluffy black hair and a button nose, long lashes fanned across soft cheeks. Petal pink lips, slightly parted, exhale tickling breaths across Taehyung's skin. Yoongi.
Yoongi is curled up on his chest, one hand pressed to Taehyung’s sternum as he sleeps. Taehyung blinks, confused, when he sees a simple gold band on Yoongi’s ring finger. He didn’t think Yoongi was married, he had said he was single. But maybe he lied? Shit. Taehyung isn’t a home wrecker but… he’s positive the ring wasn’t there the night before.
Maybe he’s seeing things. Bringing up his own hand to rub his eyes, Taehyung freezes, his eyes opening wider. There’s a sparkling gold band on his finger, identical to the one Yoongi is wearing. Taehyung stares at his hand as his memory sluggishly tries to piece the night back together.
He and Yoongi sharing the remaining two bottles of champagne.
Pressing Yoongi against the wall of the shower to have him come undone under Taehyung's tongue.
Taehyung dragging them out of the hotel, giggling in rumpled suits as they entered the little chapel. Standing there at the altar in front of Elvis. Rings pushed onto fingers, Yoongi’s lips pressed against his own. And then -
With a gasp, Taehyung sits up, dislodging a grumbling Yoongi from his chest. Taehyung’s head pounds as it all comes back to him - they got married.