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It's been ages since he went to sleep and woke up with his arms wrapped around a warm body. A long period of schedules clashing, work demands, responsibilities, familial duties and dealing with exhaustion.
A night spent together used to be luxury.
It didn't feel real.
As consciousness slowly ebbed through him, Seokjin began rubbing the tips of his fingers where it lay. One happened to be on a soft, flat tummy, drawing stars till it trailed into the dip of the belly button where he traced circles.
The other was sandwiched between both bodies, so he set about putting it to good use. Sliding his hand underneath an armpit, he wraps it around a strong, broad chest, accidentally grazing a nipple.
His intent was simply to pull their bodies flush, but the expanse of exposed skin that he brushes against was tantalisingly warm, and he has no choice but to refocus his attention. He traces the distance back to the semi-hardened nipple and draws more circles, trying to feel the surrounding little bumps. But the cotton of the sleep shirt is too thick. The nipple hardens even more under his touch, so he presses and flicks the nub up and down.
"Nngh."
Taehyung was only about 15% awake.
"Nngh," Seokjin mumbles back for no real reason. He is now more concerned with getting the full experience of rubbing Taehyung's nipple, unsatisfied with the layer of obstruction between them. With an expert flick of his wrist, he slips his hand underneath the rumpled collar of Taehyung's pyjamas and finds his way back to the nubs.
He is pleased to find it still hard, so he wastes no time in flicking and pressing on it again.
The sensation is exquisite. Taehyung's nipples are much larger than his, giving him more to squeeze, flick and pull when stiff. He pinches for good measure, gently, never enough to hurt unless Taehyung asked for it. Seokjin doesn't forget the other nipple, lonely and deprived of his tender loving care. But he doesn't want to stop one just to greet the other, so he moves the hand that had been resting in the dip of the belly button and pushes away the thin material to locate the twin nub. He nearly misses it because of how flat it was, and his eyebrows knit.
He begins a slow, gentle massage, but the left nipple has always been slower to respond than the right one. Seokjin knew that. He needed to work harder. When massaging doesn't work, he starts pinching the still barely hardened nub multiple times till it rises.
It still hasn't reached its full potential, noting the difference in his other hand.
Time for him to start twisting.
The response is immediate. Both nipples are finally at full hardness, and the owner is now 45% awake, breathing slightly laboured but unmoving. Seokjin hides a smile in the base of Taehyung’s neck, enjoying the fruits of his labour.
He set himself up for a mission of exploration, unable to recall the last time he could actually take his time just appreciating the man he loves. He wants to touch languidly, wants to remap the soft curves and planes of Taehyung's body with his mouth.
But he doesn't really want to move Taehyung until he's about at least 60% awake. He wants Taehyung’s participation, wants to reacquaint himself with the plethora of sounds he hasn’t heard in a while, forced to conceal and stow away his favorite unrestrained moans during all their secret trysts and romantic rendezvous in the dark and secluded corners of their office skyscraper.
Shifting his focus away from the chest, he spreads his palm flat against the soft, flat belly. Taehyung doesn’t wear underwear to sleep and his morning wood strains the flimsy fabric of his tiny shorts. On one hand, it’s silly but he feels a weird sense of joy that they’re both ‘matching’ morning wood. On the other hand, he's just a tiny bit disappointed, he had half hoped Taehyung would still be soft. He loved the sensation of Taehyung hardening in his hands.
Nevertheless, he forms a circle with his thumb and index finger around Taehyung's length, craning his neck a little to see the familiar shape. He starts a slow massage, moving up and down and Taehyung's breath hitches.
He's 80% awake now.
Besides the shallow breathing, Taehyung doesn't say anything, but he does rock his hips in an attempt to get him to stroke faster and bump back into the tent in his own pants.
It's harder to focus now, sheen of sweat building up as he rocks back into Taehyung's ass so he releases his hold and roughly tugs the waistband down to expose an ass cheek.
Taehyung is doing no better, tiny whines and pants finally spilling from his lips, making grabby hands behind and when he’s not coordinated enough to grip, pushes his shorts down, tip of the head stuck in the elastic band, red and stiff, springing back when he roughly tugs it further down.
He turns his head then, unbothered by morning breath, seeking his lips while his body moves like a tidal wave. Taehyung moans into his mouth, needy and desperate. Seokjin grabbed a handful of ass, thrilled by the eager, sloppy licks and tips of his fingers pressing hard wherever they could reach, leaving lingering spots of red.
He pressed a finger between Taehyung’s ass cheeks, feeling the urgency in his touches while they kept their tongues occupied. Taehyung parts his thighs and wraps a leg around his. He has to shuffle them around till he's laying on top, gets nudged to lay in between Taehyung's thighs, trapped at the waist.
The lube is on Taehyung's side of the night stand, thankfully within his reach. One hand goes around his shoulder blade, gripping and scratching while the other fumbles around the drawer.
He lets Taehyung handle it while he leaves teeth marks on the stretch of skin between chest and clavicle until he can feel the plastic bottle being pressed into his bicep, and he has to pull away, sitting back to examine bruised lips and pink flushes on beautiful golden skin. His hair is sleep mussed, strands sticking to his forehead as they become more heated. He pulls his pyjama top over his head and slips his engorged length over his waistband, giving it a stroke. Taehyung’s eyes are half-lidded but unfailingly piercing.
A nudge at his hip reminds him to get going. He pours a liberal amount of the clear liquid onto his palm and works his magic. It’s been a while, so he proceeds carefully, slowly, gently, but soon it becomes clear just how in tune they are with each other’s bodies that they barely need any words to know where to stroke, how deep he should go and how much is enough.
Moans turn into guttural groans and the heat in Taehyung's gaze makes him burn. Without breaking eye contact, he pulls his fingers out to rub the tip of his head up and down the taint. It's wet and slippery and he could just slip in right now, with the way Taehyung's inching closer and angling his hips upwards, just waiting to be impaled.
But because it's been a long while, he wants to savour it despite his own overwhelming desire. When he finally opens his mouth, he showers Taehyung with compliments. The ones that makes Taehyung preen the most when he’s sober.
"My pretty boy," he pushes the blunt head past the first ring of muscle, clenching up because of his praise, "so beautiful," he groans, dropping to his elbows on either side of Taehyung's head once he's halfway in. "You're so tight," he drives home, completely encased in the heat of Taehyung's body, "my baby, you’re so handsome." He shifts to the left, taking a moment to admire the breathtaking view, “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
And he loves the way each compliment reflexively causes the contraction of the muscles surrounding him, pleased with the way Taehyung's head is thrown back. He leans down to lick and bite the pert, dark nipples, then buries his face into the bare neck and sings praise after praise, undulating his body. The shallow thrusts drove Taehyung up the wall, nails scraping his shoulder blades as he writhed in pleasure.
Taehyung heaves his head up and taps on his arm.
Seokjin obeys, pulling out. A string of precum keeps them connected as they switch positions so Taehyung is sitting on his thighs.
Looking up at Taehyung with his chest flushed and heaving, he can’t help but tease, “Do you wanna be my hyung?”
“Huh?” Taehyung’s not paying attention, fixated on the mole on his chest, hands roving up and down his torso and rubbing his shoulders repeatedly. He has to tip Taehyung’s chin up, watching the way he tears his eyes away from his shoulders.
“Do you want me to call you hyung?” he repeats, a little amused. “If you’re on top, you’re in charge.”
“Call me hyung, then,” Taehyung finally lifts himself up to his knees and pulls his cheeks apart with both hands so Seokjin can slide right in.
Taehyung is feral, riding hard and fast, spreading precum all over Seokjin’s stomach. Almost as if he wasn’t momentarily distracted just five seconds ago. He takes everything he wants and needs that Seokjin loses his mind; is reduced to a choked, low growling mess, hip bumping up in tandem with the body on top of him.
He can feel Taehyung's legs gradually turn to jelly, quivering on top of him as his hands shoot out to grip his shoulders for support. Planting his feet firmly on the bed, he lifts his hips up in a series of rough, uncoordinated thrusts that nearly lodges Taehyung off him.
Taehyung paints his abs white first with a broken, high pitched cry of his name. The way Taehyung’s body spasms as he comes down from his high, shaking with oversensitivity and mumbles an 'I love you' into his ear sends him over the edge.
It takes a while for them to find their bearings again.
"I could wake up to that more often," Taehyung rolls off him.
"The feeling is mutual. Time to make up for all the times we couldn’t do it in the dorm.”
Taehyung snorts. “Ever since our last vacation, we never have sex like that anymore."
“We don’t?”
“Well… if your dick weren’t so huge I could maybe get away with a mildly sore ass. But as it is I’ll be limping around for the next two to three days. What are the chances of having multiple consecutive off days?”
“You can fuck me instead of complaining next time.”
He gets thwacked by one of Taehyung’s pokemon plushies.
“It’s not my fault you prefer to be railed,” he whines.
"I have lots of furniture we can do it on."
"Nuh-uh, not the sharky in your living room."
Instead of another plushie, Taehyung smacks his chest with his arm. He continues to make large movements, stretching his body sideways and drags his phone from the corner of the bed next to himself.
He watched Taehyung turn on the front camera, capturing their postcoital moments in HD. He feels pleased, ego stroked.
“What are you doing?” he leans in closer while Taehyung crops one photo to frame only his face.
“Cropping the photo.”
“For?”
“So I can post it some other day when I feel like it.”
“Be careful. Don’t post the wrong one by accident.”
“I won’t. I like to post them for a few minutes then delete.”
Seokjin laughs. “You know they’ll screenshot it in a second, right? You looking like you’ve been fucked?”
“That’s the point,” Taehyung smirks.
“So you want people to have a glimpse of Kim Taehyung in his post sex glory in their phone galleries?”
“Hmmm… yeah. Freshly fucked by BTS Jin. The straightest, purest and most innocent member in BTS. Also the nation’s most heterosexual son-in-law.”
He chokes on his own saliva from roaring with laughter, poking at Taehyung’s sides where he’s most ticklish.
“Ew. You made me all sticky. Now help me shower." Taehyung grimaces.
“At your service, your highness.”
“Scrub my back. Wash my hair. Massage my feet.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
“Actually, I think I prefer hyung.”
“V-hyungie?”
“Yeah.”
"You said you'd call me that when I rode you. What happened to that?"
"Yeah, you riding me happened."
Taehyung giggles and makes a move for the bathroom, touching and squeezing his arms, nipples, thighs and calves along the way. He gets up before his lover can complain about him being lazy but Taehyung stops him at the entrance.
“What?”
The look in Taehyung’s eyes was inexplicably tender, coming closer for a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, then his lips, then pulling him into the bathroom.
Fireworks set off in his chest.
He could not describe how much more intimate it felt compared to what they just did.