Chapter Text
He looked very young. Dirty, he was dirty too. His face, his jacket, as if he had ran under a cloud of smoke, or just left the interior of a chimney. The first thing that Yoongi thought when Jeongguk got into his car is that he was not more than sixteen, because he had tears on his cheeks. Now that Jeongguk is cleaning his face, his hands, now Yoongi thinks that maybe he is not a child after all.
"Is someone running after you?"
Jeongguk shakes his head, silently, the strands of his bangs moving gracefully as he wipes the wet towel across his forehead.
"Someone is harassing you? They bothering you?"
No. Again he says no. Yoongi purses his lips. His elbow resting on the windowsill; his knuckles caressing the underside of his chin while watching Jeongguk cleaning himself. The boy looks worried. Not really worried, but Yoongi knows he is.
Not everyday someone enters his car without permission, and refuses to move from the passenger seat. Not every day a boy opens the door of his car and tells him to drive. Tells him just to move, go anywhere, that it doesn't really matter.
Yoongi doesn't know every day someone who is clearly running away, but he knows that Jeongguk is.
"Here."
Yoongi hands him the bottle of water when the towel is not wet anymore. Jeongguk's head perks up, suspicious. After a few seconds in which both look at each other, though, he takes the bottle that Yoongi offers, and pours some water on the cloth.
Jeongguk takes off his jacket and leaves it on the floor of the car, at his feet. His red shirt is shabby, loose, but almost intact from the black soot stains. In a quick movement he gets rid of it, grabs the towel again when he is half naked. Yoongi watches as he passes the towel over his shoulders, down his arms. For the parts where dirt maybe has been able to enter.
And Yoongi looks. Looks at him, at his body. At the boy in the passenger seat, the same one who a few moments ago proposed to travel aimlessly to any direction in order to leave this place. He is just a stranger changing clothes after all, a handsome boy, a young boy in the seat of his car taking off his shirt in front of Yoongi, of course he will look.
It's late at night, so much so that no one passes through that alley. Yoongi bites the inside of his lip when Jeongguk shrinks when he covers a fresh bruise with the towel on his side. He will not be a child, but he seems it. He is helpless. He is running away, and Yoongi is just looking.
Jeongguk turns his head, then Yoongi rethinks, and looks away, to the steering wheel. The car is cold, Yoongi's breathing starts to come out of his mouth as steam. He doesn't want to think, because if he starts asking himself questions the first one would be why he is letting a unknown person take his car like a garage.
"You can look," sounds.
It's a soft voice. Despite the look of Jeongguk, despite his tangled hair and his clothes fresh from a fire, Jeongguk's voice is the only thing that remains unperturbed.
"I'm sorry," Yoongi apologizes.
"Don't be. Everyone likes to watch."
Jeongguk's fragile fingers rub the towel down his torso, over his ribs, until he reaches his chest, rubbing without any intention yet without any shame.
"Who is everyone," Yoongi replies, his eyes instinctively, unintentionally, returning to Jeongguk's body.
Jeongguk takes thick air.
"The people who like my body. Everyone."
It's not an arrogant tone. It's not a cocky tone, there is no tone. The words come out normal from Jeongguk's mouth, routine. Yoongi swallows and looks to his front again. Stretches his fingers and presses a couple of buttons, turns on the heating of the car.
"So what do you want?" Jeongguk asks.
This time Jeongguk doesn't bother to lift his chin, instead he keeps working on the cleaning, every dark spot almost disappeared. Yoongi swallows again, thick. It's not like he's not used to talking to men. It's not like he's not used to all kinds of get-togethers.
"Hmm?"
"You know," Jeongguk stops. His hands travel in front of his chest. He squeezes the towel, almost dry again. "You didn't kick me out."
Less than an hour ago Jeongguk opened the door of his car. He told him to drive, told him to get him out of there. Less than an hour ago a boy crying entered Yoongi's car and asked him to save him. Yoongi has parked in an alley off the main streets. Yoongi is alone with a stranger in his car, watching him clean his naked torso. Waiting for the heating to warm the car.
"What do you want in return?"
He is used to all kinds of meetings. To all kinds of people, to all kinds of places, to all kinds of sex. Yoongi has met many strangers. But this is the strangest of all.
"Okay," Jeongguk sighs at his silence.
Yoongi has not responded, he has kept his hands on the wheel. Squeezing the leather of the circumference, with his lips tight. Yes, he is not a child, but he arrived with his cheeks full of tears.
Before Yoongi can do anything Jeongguk gets on his knees in the passenger seat, and skillfully goes through the middle of the car to reach the backseat. The car is still cold, even more so in the back. A chill rolls down Yoongi's shoulders when he sees Jeongguk sideways hugging himself, rubbing his biceps.
"You can come here."
Even so, he feels forced. Forced to force him. Forced to take something in return, something for his kindness. Something because Yoongi has welcomed to enter his car an unknown young man without any protest.
He makes sure that nobody is looking before leaving the car. Yoongi looks everywhere although there is no one in that place before leaving his site and entering the backseat. Before sitting next to Jeongguk. He is used to doing this, but now it feels illegal.
Nevertheless, Jeongguk makes it easy. He inhales, wets his lips with his tongue, broken, reddish lips. Then, quickly searches with his hands for Yoongi's belt, starts to unbuckle it fast, lowers his head to Yoongi's crotch until his nose rubs the zipper, eagerly, trying to hurry the moment as much as possible. Trying to finish as soon as possible. Yoongi's eyes open wide, caught by surprise.
"Wait, wait, wa-"
Yoongi bends his body, shrinks, taking Jeongguk's hands to lift him up, to stop him. It's too fast, too unexpected. As usual. But now Yoongi feels it the strangest.
"What," says Jeongguk, just a thread of voice. "You don't like me?"
Yoongi raises his head just a bit, the minimal eye contact. The tension and the situation causing him to run out of air.
"Yeah, yeah, I do but, I mean," he swallows. "You can slow down a bit, you know."
Jeongguk feels the nervous pressure of Yoongi's hands on his wrists. He frowns, blinks confused.
"How?"
Yoongi's voice stutters out.
"Don't know, you could kiss me first a least."
The hot air of the heating continues to come out of the grille in the front. And although the change in temperature is already obvious, Yoongi still feels his body cold. And Jeongguk's too.
"I never kiss before."
"Well, it's pretty normal in sex, not necessarily means feelings shit or anything."
"No," Jeongguk cuts off, lowering his voice. "I'm saying I never kissed before."
Yoongi's hands loosen the pressure on his arms. Suddenly Jeongguk's face looks younger again. Suddenly his eyes shine as much as when they had tears.
"You never kissed anyone?"
Jeongguk's head denies. Begins to nibble on his lower lip, uneasy. Yoongi snorts ironically, a comical expression on his face.
"You never kissed anyone and you just were about to suck me off?"
"I'm not a virgin," Jeongguk replies, confident. "I know what I'm doing." Without delicacy he frees himself from Yoongi's grip, covers his chest with his hands. "I just never kissed, and what about that."
Yoongi holds the look in his eyes, the almost defiant gaze of Jeongguk. He is not a child, but he looks like he is. Jeongguk is simply helpless, and something feels bad in Yoongi's chest. Something had been straining his lungs since the moment Jeongguk opened the door of his car without permission.
"It's okay," he says, putting a hand on Jeongguk's bare shoulder, rubbing it.
The inside of the car is warm now, but they are cold. Quickly Jeongguk makes a gesture, moves his body to get rid of Yoongi's hand.
"Don't treat me like I'm a kid," he says, "I tell you that I know what I'm doing."
The atmosphere has changed. Now Jeongguk's indulgent expression has become defensive. Self-protective. Slowly Yoongi shakes his head. Sniffles, rubs his nose with his knuckles.
"Dress up," he says, looking away for the last time. "You gonna catch a cold."
Jeongguk puts his hands on the heating, on the grille, once he has put on his jacket again. He rubs them together, trying to keep as warm as possible. Yoongi looks at him from his initial position, with his arm resting on the sill. Both in the front seats again. Jeongguk said to move, but they are not going anywhere.
"What's your name?"
The words come out husky from Yoongi's mouth. Lazy.
"Jeongguk."
Yoongi hums, repeats the name silently, just with his lips. Records it in his mind.
"I'm Yoongi."
"I know."
His forehead furrows. Jeongguk keeps looking at the grille, his cheeks darkening from the heat.
"How did you know?"
The distance between their replies is long. Yoongi feels himself like a corkscrew, pulling Jeongguk's words out slowly, pulling out the information until the boy decides to tell.
"I've got your wallet," Jeongguk mutters.
"What?"
He licks his lips, nibbles them again, nervous. Yoongi rolls his eyes, throws back his head until it's against the headrest, eyes to the ceiling. Lets out a big, resigned sigh.
"Give it back to me, Jeongguk."
Quickly the boy reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, takes out Yoongi's wallet; dark brown, soft leather. Leaves it next to the kilometers counter. Yoongi looks at it out of the corner of his eye.
"Sorry."
"Why did you do it?"
Jeongguk's reddish lips tighten into a puckered curve. The car is not locked. He can open the door at any time, he can get out of there. Never see Yoongi again.
"You seemed nice."
"Oh."
A lazy giggle comes out of Yoongi's mouth. Now the interior of the car is so warm that it is so comfortable. He stretches his arm, takes the wallet.
"So you rob nice guys?"
Yoongi wonders when it would have been, when Jeongguk would snatch his wallet. Yoongi wonders when Jeongguk and he would cross paths before. Maybe when he left that club. Maybe when he crossed that street full of young people drinking. Maybe when he was too busy trying to call too many times the phone number that Yoongi knows that will not pick up.
"I was not gonna rob you."
Yoongi turns his head to the side. Jeongguk is looking at him; his hands, his cheeks dark from the heating.
"You literally stole my wallet."
He is a strange boy. He is the strangest boy Yoongi has known so far. Jeongguk lowers his head. Looks at his feet.
"Yes," says. "But didn't want the money."
An ironic smile remains in Yoongi's mouth.
"A weird way to hit on me then? Sex in exchange for getting my stuff back?"
It's Yoongi just the one who laughs. He keeps smiling, bitterly joking, but Jeongguk doesn't say anything. On the contrary, he looks disappointed. He just tangles his fingers between them, looking down. Suddenly, in the silence, Yoongi's body gets cold again. Freezes. The calm mood disappears.
If he thinks of before, when they were in the backseat, even though Jeongguk was hurrying to lower his zipper, he didn't seem to enjoy it. Jeongguk didn't seem to mind Yoongi at all. What actually seemed is that he is used to being forced to hurry.
Yoongi clears his throat, sits properly on the seat.
"You have a place to go?"
As he expected, Jeongguk shakes his head. Shyly. No more words are needed for Yoongi. Jeongguk is not scary, although a couple of hours ago he snatched his wallet. Jeongguk still seems the least scary of all. That's why, by sliding slowly his hand under the wheel, Yoongi starts the engine.
*
On the table in the living room there is a pajama, a clean towel.
"You can use the shower. The bathroom is at the end of the hall."
Yoongi spreads a couple of blankets on the couch. It's not a big couch, in fact, his is quite an apartment for one. An apartment for him and nobody else, without the need to extend the stay. Although his bed is double, without the need for a second person.
"I don't have any more pillows," he says.
Jeongguk looks at him with his head down.
"It's okay. It's better than anything I can get anyway."
Yoongi holds a bitter smile. He is not thinking objectively, he doesn't want to. If he did, his inner voice would wonder why he is bringing home a bum.
I'm helping a friend, Yoongi prefers to repeat himself.
"I'm going to go to sleep now," he says aloud instead.
Jeongguk's head perks up quickly, like a dog frightened by a noise. As scared of being left alone.
"Bathroom," Yoongi recalls, pointing to the hallway.
Jeongguk nods. Doesn't say anything else, but neither it seems that he doesn't intend to. Yoongi just waits uncomfortably, a ridiculous silence that grows thick between the two of them. In the end he decides to leave. Giving Jeongguk his time alone.
Nothing sounds when Yoongi is in his room, when he gets into bed. A faint light goes through the bottom slit of his door, letting him know that Jeongguk is still awake, but he does not make a noise.
Yoongi wonders if Jeongguk has a house, if he is actually a homeless. If he left his parents behind, of if he doesn't have parents at all. The option of him being a drug addict passes through his head. As well as the idea that Jeongguk could steal the television and leave before he wakes up. He doesn't know that boy, he could even kill Yoongi while he sleeps.
Yoongi turns his head and buries his in the pillow, closes his eyes tight. As time passes the feeling of pity disappears, and the fear of having a stranger at home torments him. It is, however, when the faucet of the shower and the pipes sound, that something in Yoongi's chest calms down. That is when, after long minutes of consciousness, hearing the shower of Jeongguk, Yoongi falls asleep.
It can be hours later when Yoongi opens his eyes. When something forces him to do it. A tingling, something brushing his back. Yoongi tries to sleep again a couple of times before finding out what it is. He is very sleepy, and so doesn't want it to be a stupid thing that cuts off his sleep.
A while later, however, he definitely opens his eyes. He can not sleep like that. Not when there is someone hugging him from behind.
Tired he turns his head, just the necessary to verify that indeed Jeongguk has gotten into his bed, and that now he sleeps peacefully beside him, almost on top of him, grabbing his body from behind. Yoongi shifts on the sheets, enough to try to get rid of his arm.
This is not fair, he thinks. He is taking advantage of it. Yoongi offered him his couch for free, without knowing him, just out of compassion, and yet the boy has taken the liberty of getting into his own bed.
"Hey."
Yoongi whispers, as if he really wasn't intending to wake him up. But he can not sleep like that. Yoongi hates sleeping with people.
"Hey, Jeongguk," he repeats in the same volume, this time turning his body until they are facing each other.
Jeongguk doesn't move though, his eyes closed like zippers. His long lashes resting on the soft flesh of his cheeks. He's not a child, but looks a lot like it. He is not just handsome. He is beautiful, pure as a kid.
Deliberately Yoongi puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes him, until Jeongguk's eyes move under his eyelids. Until he gets a little grunt from him. But nothing more. Jeongguk doesn't wake up. Jeongguk sighs. Yawns. Gets closer, curls in Yoongi's chest instead. Hugs himself in the heat of the hollow. Yoongi's skin crawls.
Jeongguk smells good. Yoongi lowers his nose until it sticks into the messy strands of Jeongguk's hair. He smells good, smells like his own shampoo. No one had smelled like Yoongi's own house before. Not during sex, not when he spent the night with someone; not even then Yoongi shared smell with anyone before.
Yoongi inhales deeply, and his eyes close by themselves. Jeongguk is warm, and not too uncomfortable. He could try to sleep like that. Yoongi takes off his frozen fingers from his own body and passes his arm over Jeongguk, until he touches the curve of his back over the shirt.
After all, Yoongi has never shared a bed with someone he really knows. He is used to this. To the fleeting, uncomfortable nights. To the quick fucks without names, the non-existent farewells in the morning. After all, Yoongi has learned to be independent even with the company of someone else.
If now his heart is beating painfully because the boy is being so appealing, well, that's something Yoongi can perfectly ignore.
*
It's early in the morning and Yoongi is alone in bed. It shouldn't be strange. He always wakes up like this, thankfully. Alone, calm, in peace. Slowly he stretches his limbs and yawns. It's very early in the morning and Yoongi could continue to sleep, but this time he gets up.
The blankets on the couch are just as Yoongi left them last night. Nobody has slept there, nobody has ever tried. The towel, however, is folded over the backrest. The room is colder than last night.
"Are you afraid of something?"
Jeongguk is there. He was not in bed with Yoongi, but standing in the living room. In front of the window, looking with bare feet through the window fogged by the cold outside. No pants, just the wide blue pajama top covering his ass and his fists.
There's no answer though. Jeongguk shakes his head, still facing forward. As if he expected something to happen behind the glass. Yoongi rubs his hands, exaggeratingly treating the cold of the room.
"Why you didn't sleep here?"
Jeongguk draws the curtain in front of his face.
"Sorry." And takes a step back, a little one. "Didn't want to sleep alone."
"It's fine."
Jeongguk's toes curl on the floor. It's not frozen, but it's cold enough not to be half naked. Yoongi wants to cover it. The exposed parts of Jeongguk's body. Yoongi can not look at him that way and keep thinking that he is just a young man who needs help.
"We can go back to bed," he suggests.
Yoongi can not watch Jeongguk undress again and keep thinking that he is innocent.
"Wanna fuck?" Jeongguk asks, voice against the curtain.
The answer was going to come out of Yoongi's mouth before he heard the question, but the words get stuck in his throat. He didn't expect that.
"I mean, it's early, you can still sleep a bit more," Yoongi replies.
Jeongguk tightens his lips in a curve, turning his head towards the door frame where Yoongi waits.
"You don't want to fuck?"
This time, it's Yoongi who shuts down himself on purpose. Yes. Of course I want you, Jeongguk. Of course I'd fuck the boy who is half naked around my house. So unprotected, so helpless and yet so easy. So irresponsible.
"Just, get in bed, please."
As an order he obeys him, with quick barefoot steps Jeongguk returns to the only bedroom of the apartment. The place is cold, but inside the blankets it is warm. More if two people share it.
Yoongi covers himself almost to the head. It's a cloudy morning but light enters. And there's that boy, in front of him, curled up in his own bed, hugging himself on his mattress. It's still too early to think about what will happen next. Where will he go, when will he leave.
"Who are you, Jeongguk?"
Jeongguk's big eyes look directly at Yoongi, his head resting on the same pillow. He looks smaller in this way.
"Don't want to talk about my life."
"You're in mine now," Yoongi replies, knowing that some kind of response would come. "I deserve something in return."
You're borrowing my clothes, Yoongi could have said. You're borrowing my bed, you are sleeping under my roof because I'm allowing it. You owe me.
"I'm Jeongguk."
"I already know that."
A small sigh escapes between his rosy lips before continuing to speak.
"I'm almost twenty."
"What are you studying?"
The pillow shakes with the movement of his head. Jeongguk denies. Yoongi doesn't understand, and it has to be obvious in his face.
"I'm not."
"Ah."
As flashes the memories of the previous night are accompanying that response. The dirt on his face, the tears. The pleas for Yoongi to drive. Yoongi feels bitter.
"You're in trouble, aren't you?"
It's an honest question. Yoongi honestly wants to know, but Jeongguk doesn't answer it. It's in his expression, however, that something is not right. Yoongi waits, without pressing him.
"Can I trust you, Jeongguk?" asks instead.
He doesn't have to know, but that is not really fair. Jeongguk could get him in trouble. Jeongguk could be dangerous, and he is now in his bed. Yoongi is now breathing his same oxygen.
At the question, timidly Jeongguk nods. Yoongi shouldn't trust anyway. Who is even going to answer the question of Can I trust you with a no.
"You like me? Physically."
However, Yoongi starts not to care. Not for now at least.
"Yeah," the boy says.
Jeongguk is slow to answer. His arms still crossed against his own chest, defensive. Yoongi hums.
"Sure?"
"I can prove it if you want," Jeongguk adds.
Lazily Yoongi smiles, slowly a curve forms in his mouth. It's very early in the morning but he doesn't really want to sleep now.
"Come closer."
He hears, and does. Jeongguk shifts between the sheets to get really close. Yoongi is used to this. For a stranger to touch him, to touch a stranger himself. Yoongi is used to sharing physical contact with strangers. This, however, is the strangest. Now, when Yoongi surrounds Jeongguk's body with his arm and touches the curve of his back, he feels that the muscle of his chest works harder.
Maybe Jeongguk doesn't, but Yoongi's face instinctively approaches his. It's nice the way he smells. It's nice the way Jeongguk looks. So purely handsome. So expectant now that he doesn't know what Yoongi wants.
His cheeks burn when Yoongi rests his forehead on Jeongguk's. His face is flushed, puffy, like after a shower. It's nice the way Jeongguk doesn't demand.
"Are you going to kiss me?" he asks.
Yoongi caresses his warm cheeks with his nose. With his own cheeks; he goes down and approaches his Cupid's bow, his lips. Brushes the outline of his mouth. Yesterday he was a dirty kid, today Jeongguk is so precious.
"I can if you want to."
With a burning sigh Jeongguk parts his lips, looks down, at Yoongi's mouth almost against his. Feeling anxious, nervous.
"Yeah," he whispers, "yeah, I want to."
Yoongi is used to this. He should. To kiss strangers, to make out with strangers. To feel the other's lips against his own, feel the pressure, the sensation of someone drinking from his mouth. This, this now feels the strangest. Yoongi wants to stop the stupid beating of his heart once and for all.
Slowly his chin shifts closer, eyelids falling before finally leaning in and catching Jeongguk's bottom lip with his teeth. Yoongi hears Jeongguk huff. Yoongi feels Jeongguk squeezing tightly the flesh of his chest with his fingers. It's just a soft touch, the necessary to join their lips together, but Jeongguk reaction is priceless. Yoongi nibbles the thin, rosy skin until the lip slides softly out his front teeth. Jeongguk presses back. Yoongi's tongue darts out to touch his lips, to slip inside his mouth.
Jeongguk smells so nice. Jeongguk tastes so nice.
Instinctively Yoongi grabs tighter Jeongguk's back, bringing him closer, when their mouths touch each other. Jeongguk copies his movements, keeping them light, timid, tentatively moving like it's something new. This is definitely something new. To Yoongi, this is entirely different from any sort of kiss he's experienced before.
Is when Yoongi deepens the kiss, their tongues rolling languidly against each other when he feels the air through Jeongguk's nose tickling his lip; the boy huffing, moaning shyly at the firmer touch. Yoongi lowers his hand down the firm curve of Jeongguk's waist to his hip, until he grabs his ass to hold him tight against him. Jeongguk can't keep his body still. Jeongguk is so hard and hot and Yoongi is just kissing him.
For a moment Yoongi lifts his chin, tries to break the kiss. Jeongguk lifts it up behind him, anxiously chasing Yoongi's lips with his.
"How does it feel?"
Yoongi's voice is husky. He swallows, takes the air he needs. Something in his chest is oppressing his lungs. He can hear the big chill down his shoulders when Jeongguk's voice sounds, breathless.
"It's good."
Before saying anything else Jeongguk reaches his lips again and resumes the kiss. He opens his mouth and quickly feels Yoongi's wet tongue back in his mouth, his hand squeezing his ass until the boy lets out a weak moan. Yes, it's good. It's easier to kiss now. It's faster. Deliberately Yoongi slides his hand under Jeongguk's underwear, buries his fingers in the hot flesh of his cheek. Now that Jeongguk is desperately grinding against Yoongi's leg, the kiss is dirtier.
The hands of Jeongguk trapped against Yoongi's chest come out to wrap his neck, to grab Yoongi's hair as if he could hold himself there, eagerly getting almost on top of him to have better friction. His body is trembling, burning. Yoongi feels him so hard against his leg. So much so that his own cock twitches painfully under the confines of his underwear.
Inadvertently he grabs Jeongguk's boxers to lower them, slides them down his leg quickly, to the surprise of Jeongguk who opens his eyes and keeps a puffy look while Yoongi gets rid of the garment. It gets lost between the sheets.
Yoongi stops for a moment in front of Jeongguk, stands over him with his palms on the mattress, one of each side of Jeongguk's head. He looks at him from above, the change so noticeable. Jeongguk is so flushed, his hair so messy. So natural, so worked up, so beautiful. Yoongi could take his shirt off. He could bite his neck, he could leave marks on his chest.
Jeongguk is not a child. He keeps restless, his cock so hard and wet laying on his stomach. Yoongi could do many things to him, but now just wants to kiss him. Jeongguk's mouth. He wants Jeongguk to kiss him back.
"Don't stop."
Jeongguk's is just a thread of voice. Yoongi shakes his head. He is not going to stop now. Before kissing him Yoongi brushes Jeongguk's lips with his thumb. They are hot from his own mouth. They are hot and red because he has tasted them.
When their mouths join together a small groan comes out muffled by the press of Jeongguk's lips. He likes it so much now. He likes how Jeongguk trembles, how he enjoys kissing him. Yoongi likes to feel, when he drags his fingers from his chest to his crotch to grab Jeongguk's cock, how it throbs, how hard he is for him. It's the strangest. Yoongi likes it so much. Yoongi could stay like this forever.
In the least refined way he starts stroking Jeongguk, while his tongue touches his lips, the hot interior of his mouth. While they kiss. The kiss is no longer steady, now it's wet, messy, eager, but doesn't matter anymore. Jeongguk clings more and more to his neck, grabs Yoongi tightly, his moans drowned in the kiss as he rocks his hips up, needy fucks Yoongi's fist from below.
Yoongi's lower belly clenches at that. His own cock still untouched and waiting painfully under his underwear, feeling with every sound of Jeongguk that escapes the kiss that he will not stand like that much longer.
He's used to this, he should. To the filthiness, to the sweat of someone else. To the moans. To the ugly sound of the mattress, to the headboard banging the wall. Yoongi presses his body to Jeongguk's, tries to get the minimal friction to himself. He should be used, yet he can't stop now.
Jeongguk's body shakes violently, his effort sounding on the verge of a sob at the intensity, so Yoongi feels he has to move his hand quicker, bringing Jeongguk closer and closer to the edge until suddenly he opens his eyes. And although seemed impossible he breaks the kiss, watery eyes Jeongguk lets out a loud moan, comes hard rocking into Yoongi's hand, the warmth of the white stripes of cum pooling across his clothed chest.
Yoongi clenches his teeth, closes his eyes. His forehead against Jeongguk's forehead, and swallows hard. He is sweating. For a moment he thought he was going to be the one cumming his pajamas.
Only a few seconds later he looks at the boy under him. Jeongguk looks very tired, slowly stopping his movements instead of abruptly. Jeongguk's heart beats fast because of the adrenaline. Yoongi's heart beats fast and won't stop.
"Sorry," Jeongguk whispers, trying to catch his breath. Swallowing, dry mouth. "You can still fuck me if you want."
The bed is a mess. He doesn't know how it happened, but the blanket is anywhere but in its place. Yoongi gives a big sigh, lowers his head a little to kiss Jeongguk's forehead. It's the strangest thing. He's not used to this at all.
"Don't be stupid."
Even so, he is ridiculously hard under his pants. Resignedly Yoongi lays on the other side of the mattress, turns his back on Jeongguk. Lowers a hand enough to palm his erection, slides the garment a bit and frees the hardness after the painful waiting.
A long, deliberate stroke is the relief that Yoongi needs. He presses his lips, holds his heavy breathing while his hand resume its slick back and forth on his cock. It's just that boy. It's just his cute face, his loneliness and weird behavior what clenches Yoongi's heart till it's hard to breath.
"Let me-"
The same tingling sensation returns to his back just as last night. Jeongguk's arm surrounds him from behind, his hot breath sticks to his nape of his neck.
"Let me help you."
Yoongi looks over his shoulder. Jeongguk's eyes are swollen. Like after a shower, like after crying. He slows the movement of his hand when he feels the other's fingers cover his own grip.
Jeongguk grabs his cock without any shame, rubs his thumb over the head to spread the precum before sliding his hand down and up, then building a wet, steady pace. He notices the warmth of the breath on his back, Yoongi notices how he reaches his neck with his mouth and runs his tongue from the bottom to the hollow of his ear. How he bites the thin skin, how he squeezes his hand just right with each stroke.
The same lonely, helpless boy of before. The same one that wouldn't have kissed anyone just a while ago.
"I'm-"
"Are you close?" Jeongguk whispers. Jeongguk groans.
And Yoongi groans with him. He is. He's been motherfucking close since the beginning.
"Yeah."
Yoongi was holding it, prolonging the moment, trying to pretend something, but it's useless, the pleasure sharp and intense. Finally he closes his eyes and lets it go, comes hard and slowly over both of their hands, hips still rocking into Jeongguk's grip as he rides out his orgasm.
For a moment, time stops. Yoongi doesn't feel anything, his breathing calming down little by little, only Jeongguk's arm surrounding his body. He can not move, they are so sticky. He needs a rest time though. A moment in silence. A moment where he doesn't have to think, because if he did the pressure of his chest would be the strangest thing.
After a few minutes Yoongi feels too dirty. He is still wearing his pajamas, both his and the borrowed one spoiled by their orgasms. Dryly he lifts Jeongguk's arm to free himself, puts on his pants and sits on the edge of the bed. He keeps turning his back on Jeongguk. He doesn't know how the boy will look. How appealing. Yoongi doesn't want to know.
"I've done something wrong?"
Yoongi shakes his head instantly. Of course not. Not even his face, not even the feel of his body. Not even the way he tastes. Not even the things of himself Jeongguk can not control.
"It's better this way."
"This way?" Jeongguk asks.
The sheets slide, Yoongi can hear how Jeongguk sits on the bed. It's better that way, his mind repeats to himself.
"I'm not going to fall in love or something," adds Jeongguk.
The ceiling is not so high, the walls are not so wide that the voice creates an echo. It just ends there, dull. The line dies in their ears. Yoongi gives a silent sigh. He is sure that Jeongguk won't. That's why it's better this way.
"I know," Yoongi says. Stretches the joints of his back before getting out of bed. "Gonna take a shower."
The living room is much colder than the bedroom. As getting out of the car after having sex inside, the windows are fogged. The morning is so cloudy that practically the only thing that there is in the street is luminosity. Yoongi doesn't look back when he walks down the hall. Yoongi doesn't close his eyes and thinks about him when he turns on the shower, when the hot water falls on him. Yoongi doesn't remember his mouth, Yoongi doesn't think that someone has just come in his bed. On his pajamas.
He takes a long time to shower, to clean up everything that has happened. He doesn't hate it, he just doesn't want to think about it. Because if he does the need will spring, the need for Jeongguk not to be the strangest.
Yoongi dries up, looks for clean clothes. Checks his phone, turns on the television. When they were two in there it was not noisy. The words came out like from a dropper from Jeongguk's mouth. Yoongi would look waiting for the answer. It's however when Yoongi is alone in his apartment that he it feels more silent than ever. Like a grave.
The pajamas are folded, dirty, placed on the couch, next to the towel that Jeongguk used. Jeongguk's last night clothes, the same ones he got in his car with, full of soot, are not there. There is no one in his bed either. Nor is there anyone waiting for Yoongi when he comes out of the shower.
*
"And the drink?"
"Just a coke."
The woman writes down everything on the touch screen, nodding. His hair collected in a ponytail collected in a white hairnet.
"To take away?"
Yoongi nods. Afterwards, he clarifies it and says a loud yes. It's a familiar place. It's his Friday place. The place he goes when he leaves work, where he dines before going to a bar or some meeting. Even so, Yoongi hates it.
Mechanically he pays and goes to a window near the counter to pick up his order. So familiar to him and he so unknown to the workers.
Yoongi makes a ball with the paper bag, wipes his fingers with the last napkin. The night is cold, black, mist comes out of his mouth barely opening it. He is leaning on the door of the driver's seat of his car, waiting. Waiting to finish his dinner. Waiting for something to happen.
Without a bin nearby, Yoongi stores the trash in his coat pocket. Maybe if he goes into a street full of clubs he meets someone. Maybe if he walks a little around the place someone appears in his path.
He takes the last drink of his coke, the straw making an ugly, interrupted sound. Yoongi has eaten from that place every Friday after work since he has memory. Even the day of his birthday. Even the day someone snatched his wallet. Even the same day a boy got crying without permission in his car.
Yoongi wonders where Jeongguk will eat. If he eats at all.
He is not a kid, though. Even so.
Even so, Yoongi wonders. How long does Jeongguk have to run to disappear? He wonders if during this week Jeongguk has been able to escape from the city. He wonders if he will never see him again.
It's only a while later when Yoongi drives aimlessly through the area, almost aware that he will find something. Almost sure that if he looks in all the corners he will be able to find Jeongguk. Yoongi warned himself about this. He warned that some stupidity like this would happen if he didn't pull Jeongguk out of his bed when he felt the tingling on his back the first time.
He knew something was not right when Jeongguk snuggled into his chest, when at that moment Yoongi didn't push him away. He keeps driving under the traffic lights, keeps repeating to himself that he only wants to help someone. A strange boy who a week ago told Yoongi to drive anywhere.
Yoongi heads home when it's too late. When his heart loses the strength of his heartbeat, because his conscience tells him already that he's being ridiculous. That Jeongguk is gone and that this city, this country is too big. There are too many people and Jeongguk has nowhere to go, or to return to.
Then as a joke Yoongi freezes. In front of his door, when he arrives, when he has parked his car two streets away. He walks to his door and freezes a few meters away his door.
He is aware that his neighbors have had to enter at some point. Aware of someone will have seen him there. Of someone will have passed through the street and whispered about the homeless, sleeping boy hugging himself against the door of the building.
"What are you doing here?"
Jeongguk doesn't hear him, because he's definitely asleep. How long does Jeongguk have to run to fall asleep on the street? Yoongi pushes him with his foot, delicately. One, two, four times until Jeongguk opens his eyes.
"Hey," Yoongi starts again.
He is glad that Jeongguk didn't get to hear his previous greeting.
"Hi."
Embarrassed Jeongguk looks at himself, gets up from his uncomfortable and improvised bed. Then he looks up at Yoongi. He is still standing, frozen in front of the door. His hands inside the pockets of his long black coat.
"You have no sense of temperature?" Yoongi asks, husky, unused voice.
Jeongguk clears his throat, trying not to cough. Of course he has.
"No."
Yoongi knows the boy in front of him would kill for a hot bath. Yoongi knows he's not a hotel. Knows Jeongguk doesn't care.
"You like whisky?"
It's Friday, late night. The latest. At this time, Yoongi would be in a club, den, any other place but his apartment. Jeongguk shrugs, nods. With difficulty rubs his flushed, frozen hands. The silence is longer when it's cold. Yoongi takes it as an enthusiastic affirmation.
"Let's go inside."
Calmly Yoongi pours the honey-colored liquid into a wide glass. Not so calmly the liquid falls. It collides with the ice, some drops fly out to stain the counter. Yoongi is not calm. Even if his hand is static, his chest is not.
"You do drugs?" asks out loud.
He is not seeing Jeongguk. He is turning his back on the boy, serving two glasses of whisky in his open kitchen.
"Sometimes."
The jacket is the only thing that is dirty again. The t-shirt that Jeongguk wears is not the same as the last week. This time it's yellow, striped. Yoongi turns around, carrying the two glasses in his hands.
"You gonna drug me?"
A lazy smile perks up at the corner of Yoongi's lips, a sincere one. Once the drinks are served he takes the glasses to the small, tall table on the middle of the kitchen. Just one stool.
"You like drugs?" Yoongi asks this time.
Now the room doesn't feel so cold. Jeongguk denies, shakes his head no from his spot.
"I'm not going to drug you."
Yoongi sits on the stool. He is not sure if Jeongguk is confident. He's not sure if he is shy, if he is maybe afraid of him. Maybe he must act like that. Maybe Jeongguk has learned to protect himself.
Eventually Jeongguk moves to the table. Grabs one of the glasses without hesitation, takes a bigger sip than Yoongi would give. Scrunches his face in disgust, holds the burning of his throat, and lets the liquid down his esophagus. It's a deal. Jeongguk owes him.
Even so.
Yoongi keeps his eyes fixed on Jeongguk's cheeks. Flushed by the cold, or by the only drink of alcohol. Or for their natural pink. When he met him he was crying. When Jeongguk met Yoongi, he didn't care if Yoongi was a bad man. When Yoongi met Jeongguk he didn't know that the boy would come back another day.
"Come closer."
And to that, Jeongguk doesn't refuse. He doesn't, he drops the glass, gets closer instead. The closest. When Jeongguk takes the two necessary steps to reach Yoongi he hugs him. He doesn't wait, he doesn't care. He is trembling and he wants to hug Yoongi.
Before Yoongi himself becomes aware of his actions he is embracing Jeongguk back. Tightly, as if it's what he'd been wanting all night long. All week. Jeongguk no longer smells of his own shampoo, he smells of skin. Like soil, like nights without sleep. Like refusing people. Like running. Like fear.
He gives a big sigh that joins both of their chest. The kitchen clock ticks, many times, too many for Yoongi to keep track of. He only knows that he's already closed his eyes. That has supported his head in the hollow of the neck of Jeongguk because they've been hugging each other for so long now.
It's eventually when Jeongguk lowers his hands little by little until he releases Yoongi. When breaks apart enough to breathe new air. As to be able to look up and meet Yoongi's eyes. And leans in. Approaches timidly to tug Yoongi's bottom lip with his own.
A sleepy chuckle from Yoongi drowns in the kiss when their tongues slide together, just slightly. Jeongguk's hands clutch hard at Yoongi's thighs, thumbs brushing against the denim of his jeans. He is going to miss this. Yoongi is going to miss it when Jeongguk is not kissing him.
Deliberately he deepens the kiss, slides his hands up to grab his neck, Jeongguk's jaw, swallowing the soft noise of appreciation that escapes Jeongguk's throat at the action. The soft skin of the lips of Jeongguk so warm and nice against his own; just the breathing and the slick noise of their kiss being the background of the room.
Yoongi shuts tightly his eyes, firmly holds Jeongguk and draws him to his body, anxiously, their legs tangling as they press together. He wants to prolong the moment as much as possible. He needs to.
For a moment he opens his eyes, just a little, heavy. Delicately lifts his arm, long fingers smoothing back Jeongguk's bangs, exposing his face so he can fully appreciate him. Yoongi doesn't know him. Doesn't know how he lives, what he's been doing during this time. Even so, he still looks so pure. So beautiful, so innocent when it's with him.
The pace of the kiss is languid, slow and deep until at some point they break apart. Just enough to breathe. Just enough to be able to speak. Jeongguk wets his already wet lips.
"I like to kiss," he says. That's why I came back, Yoongi hears.
Lazily Yoongi nibbles his bottom lip before claiming Jeongguk's mouth once more. The boy hums, clings to him more if that's possible. Then Yoongi pulls back just slightly, pressing his lips to the corner of Jeongguk's mouth to drag his lips through his cheek, to his jaw. To reach his ear.
"You kiss so nice," Yoongi whispers.
He hears the boy hide a moan. Hears how he shivers. Jeongguk's warm, nervous breath sticking in the curve of his neck. It's not a strange feeling after all. Yoongi kind of likes it. Yoongi could definitely get used to it.