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They’re at it again. A-fucking-gain.
At first, Yoongi thought he’d have a peaceful evening. He had just enough money to get himself some takeout, the bus ride from the album shop to his apartment wasn’t annoying and grating on his last nerve like it usually does, and there was actually something he wanted to watch on Netflix for a change. He got dressed down in a pair of comfy sweats and he had his fuzzy slippers on and he was ready for a night of peace and quiet and me time.
Then, as he was settling comfortably on his couch, he heard it.
The not-so-quiet moan of someone currently getting fucked.
Yoongi likes to think of himself as at least being an accommodating person. According to Taehyung, Yoongi is all fluff underneath his ‘intimidating’ aura, and even though Yoongi tries to hide it, Taehyung can see right through all that veneer and down to Yoongi’s sweet, cottony marshmallow center and cherish him as the sweetest, most genuine person Taehyung has ever met. Taehyung was also wasted on boxed wine and one (1) edible after he messily broke up with his boyfriend two hours before Yoongi came over to visit him (and eventually stayed to console), so Yoongi took every slurred word with a tiny grain of salt.
But these people. No, not even people. These sex fiends. That’s the only way Yoongi can think of them ever since they moved in two weeks ago and have heard them literally fucking each other every single night. Whenever he’s brushing his teeth for bed, he hears someone whining ‘yeobo’ over and over again like a crazed mantra, like they’re praying to an almighty dick. When he’s cooking himself dinner, he has to be careful to not slice his finger off or drop a pot of ramyun whenever he hears someone give a guttural scream, the noise so loud that they might as well have been fucking right in front of Yoongi’s stove.
He’s all for a healthy and happy relationship. It’s definitely a step up from the couple that used to live next door to him, what with the constant screaming and yelling and threatening to kill each other leaving him with zero sleep and anxiety licking at his bones. But he’s certain if he hears ‘yeobo’ or ‘baby’ one more time, he’s going to march over to their apartment, grab them both by their heathen dicks, and fling them over their fifth story balcony.
Yoongi settles down further into his couch, wrapping himself up tighter in his blanket. The sherpa material isn’t enough to keep the sounds of wanton moaning out of Yoongi’s ear canal. He hates that he has listened to his neighbors fucking so often that he knows what they’re doing to each other, and hates even more that they made him this way. Bastards.
From the way one of them is moaning, Yoongi knows it’s Baby on the receiving end of getting his ass eaten. He doesn’t know their real names. Hell, he doesn’t know what they even look like. Not because he isn’t neighborly, but just because they’re never around when Yoongi is coming and going. And, well, they never tried to get to know him when they moved in, and they’re tormenting him by forcing him and everyone else to listen to how obnoxiously they are into each other’s asses and cocks and undying love. So, who really is the bad neighbor here?
Baby keeps choking on his own moaning, and Yoongi wants to go to his living room wall and tell him, “You’ll probably have an easier time breathing if you weren’t slobbering up against our shared wall.” But, it’s a moot point. These apartments are ridiculous small squares. Yoongi can’t even close his bathroom door and take a comfortable shit without the door handle bumping into his knees. As such, no matter what area they are fucking in — and Yoongi is two hundred percent certain the couple has fucked on every inch of their apartment — Yoongi will always hear them. Always.
Yoongi turns up his television, refusing to let this night be ruined. He’s worked too many long hours listening to pretentious audiophiles critiquing the selection at the record shop and entertaining tourists that want to rub their grubby hands on everything and then have the audacity to leave without even buying a cheap souvenir. He has also spent way too many hours thinking about how he’s twenty-seven and hasn’t gotten decently laid since he was twenty-five, and it was already bad enough hearing Taehyung getting frivolous dick (and balls) being thrown at his face 24/7 in his search for ‘the one’, so hearing his neighbors getting dick on the regular — romantic and feral dick at that — really pisses him off.
Somehow Baby’s whining gets louder than the television, and then when Yoongi turns it up even louder, Baby starts screaming for ‘god’ and ‘yeobo’, which out of Baby’s mouth sounds like the same thing. Yoongi would turn his television up louder, pushing sixty percent on max volume, but three sharp knocks against his opposite wall — the one he shares with the crazy cat ahjumma who is never seen without the big rollers in her hair and her cigarette between her thin fingers — force him to turn the sound down. Baby still keeps his volume, screaming for Yeobo to fuck him — ‘right here, fuck me right here, I want it so bad, Yeobo’ — and Yoongi is seriously going to lose his goddamn mind.
He turns the television off, says ‘fuck it’, and goes to put on his shoes. Yoongi doesn’t know where he’s going at ten pm, but he just knows he has to get the hell out of here. Tucking his phone into his pocket and wrapping his lanyard containing his wallet and his apartment fob key, he throws open his door, mutters a quiet ‘fuck you’ to Apartment 2J as he passes by, and heads to the elevators.
The doors are barely sliding closed when Yoongi arrives, and they slide back open when he jams his thumb repeatedly into the ‘down’ button. There’s only one other person inside the elevator, and Yoongi is starting to regret that he looks like a grubby little bed gremlin with his baggy grey sweats, uncombed red hair and unwashed face because this guy is beautiful.
“Uh,” says the beautiful man, “are you going down?”
“Yeah,” says Yoongi, Unofficial Bed Gremlin. “Going down.”
He shuffles inside, keeping his gaze averted. Like the apartments, the elevator is also a really uncomfortable, small square. Yoongi’s arm is brushed against the beautiful stranger’s, and for some reason, Yoongi just feels weird even standing next to the guy. He tries to be subtle as he glances at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to parse the reason why a good-looking guy like this one is hanging around a dingy apartment building in Jeungsan.
“So,” the guy speaks up, cutting the silence and Yoongi’s creepy staring to an immediate halt, “what are you up to this evening?”
Yoongi curses under his breath. “Shit. I don’t know. Literally up for anything so long as I don’t have to hear my neighbors trying to fuck each other to death.” He has a moment of reprise where he wonders if he was being too blunt and crass to a total stranger that doesn’t know the ‘sweet, marshmallow center’ Taehyung claims he has. But then, the stranger’s plump lips curl into a knowing smile, and his broad shoulders that Yoongi hadn’t realized were tensed straight drop into a relaxed slump.
“2J, right?” the stranger asks. Yoongi nods his head. The stranger points at himself with his thumb. “1J,” he introduces, then holds out his hand, “but I go by Seokjin.”
“3J,” Yoongi says in tandem, taking Seokjin’s hand. “Yoongi.”
“It’s stupid, don’t you think?” Seokjin says in a loud huff. “Like, realistically, how insatiable do you have to be to want to have sex every single night? And it’s not even like twenty minutes. They fucking go at it for hours.”
Yoongi nods in agreement, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats to keep them warm. There is literally nothing for them to do out here, so they have been spending their time standing outside of a Gimbap Sarang staring into its empty lit interior, kind of like they’re waiting for the other to make the offer to go inside instead of continuing to stand out there freezing their asses off.
“It’s not like Baby is going unsatisfied, if the way he keeps screaming for Yeobo is anything to go by,” Yoongi adds dryly.
“‘Baby’?”
Yoongi scratches his cheek, feeling a little embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s what I call them. Baby and Yeobo, since that’s the only thing they keep calling each other when they...you know.”
“I call them Asshole 1 and 2, but your names are cuter.”
“Meh. Asshole 1 and 2 fits them better in my opinion.”
Seokjin does an unflattering snort-laugh, which makes Yoongi do a little gummy laugh, and then they’re both laughing so hard at how annoying their neighbors are that it almost keeps the outside chill away from their bodies. Almost, because at the end of the giggles, Seokjin gives a full-body shudder and goes, “Aish, why are we standing out here? Come on.”
Yoongi follows him inside to a table in the corner and they get their menus. They enjoy sides of banchan over discussing their neighbors, munching on pieces of kimchi as they deliberate how many rights does this couple truly deserve for their nonstop marathon sex since they moved in.
Apparently, Seokjin has lived in the apartment complex for as long as Yoongi has and also agrees that Baby and Yeobo are better than the ‘I’m going to fucking put your head through that wall’ couple that lived in the apartment before them. Yoongi is a little bit more than startled by this fact. Had he known he had a super hot neighbor living on his floor aside from the crazy cat ahjumma in 4J and the two Bahama-shirt-wearing ahjussis that live in 5J, he would have made a significant attempt at being more neighborly.
“Worse of all, it felt like I was the only one that heard them. Like I was being some pervert listening to them fucking,” Seokjin bemoans around a bite of his mandu ramyun. “If it wasn’t for you, Yoongichi, I feel like I would have lost my mind tonight.”
Yoongi nods, poking through his tuna rice ball. “So, what do we do about it?”
Seokjin thinks for a moment. He has a tiny curled ramyun noodle stuck on his bottom lip and it’s so fucking distracting. Yoongi’s hands twitch on his lap, wanting to pinch it off. But he also kind of wants to lick it off too, and it’s too late to be horny for his surprisingly hot neighbor that he barely knows, so he tells his dick to chill the fuck out and watches as Seokjin licks the noodle off himself. For some reason, his dick finds Seokjin’s self-grooming even hotter than Yoongi doing it for him. He really needs to get laid.
“Well, first I thought about moving, but I realized that I lived there longer and therefore, have staked my claim and will not go running because these two lovebirds are annoying and horny. So, my second option was a letter.”
“A letter?”
“A very simple, open letter asking them to please be considerate of the people around them. My real second option was barging into their apartment and flinging them out over the balcony, but I think this one will result in less jail time.”
Yoongi snorts. “Yeah, probably.”
They continue to enjoy their late-night meal, and Seokjin shares some of his ramyun and pieces of mandu with Yoongi while Yoongi exchanges some bites of his tuna rice ball that Seokjin mixes into the remaining broth inside his silver bowl. The talk fades away from their neighbors to food, to which Seokjin immediately perks up about. “There’s this pie place in Donggyo that I’ve been wanting to try out. All the tastes of South Africa, but in South Korea,” he pitches, to which Yoongi ‘oohs’. He thinks he’s supposed to say, ‘well, maybe you and I can go there and try it out?’, because it looks like that’s what Seokjin is waiting for him to say first. Seokjin’s eyes keep flickering his eyes up from his cleaned out bowl to Yoongi’s stuffed face and back. Under the harsh white of the fluorescent lights above them, Seokjin’s ears look pink.
But, Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just keeps stuffing rice and tuna in his mouth. That’s easier to do than ask a hot guy on a date.
So, Seokjin awkwardly checks his phone and says, “Hmm, they might be done. You wanna just head back?”
Yoongi swallows, chokes on too big of a wad of rice, hastily flushes the rest down his throat with a swig of water, and says, “Yeah. Okay.”
The walk back to the apartment is quiet, but it’s so fucking cold out that Yoongi doesn’t think his lips would have been able to unstick themselves anyway. Inside the apartment building, the temperature rises by just a smidge. He gives a full body shudder as they both go into the elevator, and then does another one when Seokjin’s arm pressed against his.
They arrive on their floor and both stop to listen into 2J. Everything is quiet, and both Yoongi and Seokjin give a sigh of tiny relief.
“So, uh, I guess tonight was sorta interesting,” Seokjin responds. Yoongi shrugs, nods, then rubs the back of his neck.
“I mean, I never thought self-sexiling from your own apartment building was a thing, but I’m glad I didn’t have to do it alone,” says Yoongi, and he metaphorically pats himself on the back because that? Was smooth. Seokjin chuckles to himself and Yoongi feels like Iron Man. Iron Man, but in grungy sweats and an unwashed face and maybe some rice stuck to the corners of his mouth that he didn’t fully wipe away.
They start to walk back towards their own separate apartments, Yoongi’s hands shoved deep in his pockets for the key fob that’s dangling around his neck. “So, uh, yeah. See you around, Seokjin-ssi.”
“Hyung is fine,” Seokjin offers, lingering outside his apartment door.
“Hyung?”
“I mean, I - uh - I’m ‘92.”
Yoongi gestures to himself. “‘93,” he says, and then they both stand around in the hallway just...nodding at each other. Yoongi brings his hand around behind him, clawing for the door handle. “Uh, so yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“See you around, hyung.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Yoongi forces his apartment door open and staggers inside. He leans his back against the door, kicks off his shoes, and remembers how to breathe for a second. Remembering how to not feel like he’s about to combust into flames takes him a little bit longer.
The unthinkable happens the next evening, and that is Baby and Yeobo don’t have sex. That, or they decided to take their fucking elsewhere, and Yoongi is more inclined to believe that one than the couple deciding to keep it their pants and have a quiet evening. He’s able to enjoy his Netflix show at least, sitting on the couch with a cup of instant ramyun that makes him think about Seokjin. He wonders if Seokjin is home enjoying his evening of peace and quiet, and wonders about whether or not it would be weird to just drop in unannounced, being ‘neighborly’.
He decides against it and slurps the rest of his lukewarm ramyun up alone.
Two more nights of quiet solitude pass before Thursday evening comes around. Yoongi decides that he’s going to cook tonight, and has gathered up the ingredients to make himself a nice hearty pot of maeuntang. He went to the grocery store this afternoon and has stocked his pantry and fridge to the point that he feels something warm touch in his soul at feeling like an Accomplished Adult™. His apartment is still a fucking mess but hey. One step at a time.
He has all of the fish currently stewing in a pot on a high burner, stirring in half of the seasoning paste and breathing in the blend of aromatics with a pleasant sigh. Sometimes, Yoongi feels at peace when he is cooking. Just him in his grubby sweats and the simmering bubbles of a delicious jjigae cooking in his fancy stainless steel pot is enough to make his night, which is both pleasing and pathetic, but Yoongi tries not to think that hard about it.
As he opens up the pot to a welcoming gust of steam, he dips his face down to look for the anchovy pouch to remove. And as he scoops up the anchovy pouch with a metal spoon, there is suddenly a very loud thud against his kitchen wall that startles Yoongi so much he drops the anchovy pouch and the spoon right into the bubbling red pot of maeuntang.
“Fuck!” Yoongi curses. “Fuck!” he then yells at the wall, to which he is answered by a pleased sounding squeal.
“Yes!” shouts Baby from the other side of the wall, another loud thud following his screams. “Oh god, oh god yes!”
Yoongi can’t see his spoon, and he turns off the burner far more angrily than he needs to turn it off. He curses all the way to his utensil drawer, curses as he digs out a pair of tongs, and curses as he stomps back to the stove to try and fish out his spoon. The spoon slips out of the tongs twice due to the overwhelming slipperiness of the broth, plus with Baby’s moaning disturbing Yoongi’s concentration, it makes the task even more annoyingly difficult.
“Give it to me,” Yoongi hears Baby moaning. It sounds like Yeobo is literally trying to put Baby through Yoongi’s kitchen wall. His fucking microwave is rattling. “Give it to me, oh fuck!”
Yoongi manages to get the spoon out along with the anchovy pouch, but his appetite cannot be salvaged. He looks at his kitchen wall absolutely disgusted, and then at the maeuntang on the stove that has become tainted with the sounds of two idiots loudly fucking.
For now, Yoongi puts the lid on the pot and leaves it to sit on his stove. He grabs his keys, yanks on a sweat jacket and lightly tousels up his hair before he slips on a pair of ugly slides and hopes a brisk walk around the block will be enough time for the stew to cool and for Yeobo and Baby to at least migrate to another wall to fuck against.
He steps out into the hallway and turns right into Seokjin, who for some reason is lingering outside of his door dressed in too nice of a coat and hair looking too perfect for a Thursday evening. Once again, Yoongi feels horribly underdressed for his shabby apartment hallway.
“Oh, good evening. Fancy finding you here,” says Seokjin.
“Here? Outside my apartment?”
“Well, actually, I was going to stand in front of their apartment--” he gives a pointed look over at 2J’s door-- “and slip this little note under their door.”
He shows Yoongi the note he has compiled, which looks like it was made by cutting random letters out of different magazines and pasting them on a blank white piece of computer paper, before then photocopying the message so the image is in black and white and slightly harder to read. It takes Yoongi a few seconds of hard squinting just to make out the first line, so Seokjin is kind enough to tell him the rest.
“It says, ‘Neighbors, your coital sessions are disrupting the harmony of your neighbors’ evening activities. Please tone down your amorous vocalizations or we will be forced to report this to the apartment manager. Sincerely, a Concerned Neighbor.’”
“Hmm.”
“What do you mean ‘hmm’?”
“Nothing, hyung. It’s fine. I especially like the part where it looks like a serial killer wrote the note.”
“I wanted it to be anonymous! It’ll be awkward if they know that it’s us that they’re bothering!” Seokjin exclaims. From the hallway, there’s a thud that comes from within 2J that doesn’t sound like a body getting fucked against the wall. Rather it sounds like the clumsy thud of something falling on the ground, and Yoongi’s suspicions are confirmed when he hears Baby go, “Oh Yeobo, we just bought that lamp.”
Yoongi smirks. Serves them right.
He turns his attention back onto Seokjin and asks, “So, you got all dolled up like this just to slip a note underneath their door?”
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Actually I was going to go and get something to eat. You know, provide sustenance for the temple and all that,” he says, gesturing to his person.
Yoongi wrinkles his nose. “Only douchebags refer to their bodies as a temple.”
Seokjin hums. “True. But that doesn’t stop my boyfriends from worshiping it.”
Something pinches in Yoongi’s chest, which is weird. “Boyfriends?”
“Well. Ex-boyfriends. For the last two months.”
“Oh cool.” Seokjin raises an eyebrow and Yoongi quickly backpedals with, “I mean, yeah no, I’m single too. Totally single.”
Seokjin gives Yoongi a look that makes his chest do another weird pinch thing again. “Hmm. Interesting.”
“Yes. Indeed.”
Baby and Yeobo resume fucking, moans and whines and cries of ‘yes, yes, yes’ rising up into the air once more. Yoongi holds his stomach, both to keep his stomach from letting out a hungry growl and also to keep his stomach from crawling out his throat to fall on the ground between his and Seokjin’s feet.
“Ugh, they’re lucky I didn’t get to eat my dinner because I would be throwing up right now,” Seokjin says bitterly.
“They ruined my dinner before I could even get a bite of it,” Yoongi confesses in solitude.
“Oh? What were you having?”
“Maeuntang.”
Seokjin wrinkles his nose. “This late?”
“It’s only seven?”
“If my body ingests anything spicy after five, I’m going to be on the toilet for the rest of the evening.”
“Thanks for sharing. Love hearing about my neighbors' shitting schedule.”
“Why not? You already know your neighbors’ fuck schedule.”
“I’ll have you know 4J is a lady who would not divulge such risque details.”
Seokjin gives a tiny smirk. Yoongi’s own mouth is already curled nice and big on his face. He tries to tamper it down. Don’t want to be weird.
“So,” he says, casually because he’s being casual and not weird, “I guess you had something else in mind for dinner?”
“Actually, I did...would you like to accompany me?”
“Beats listening to any more of this bullshit,” Yoongi says dryly, gesturing with a tilt of his head towards 2J. Seokjin nods in wholehearted agreement, glancing down at the letter in his hands. He folds the paper up and, instead of tucking it underneath 2J’s door, he tucks it in his inner coat pocket.
Seokjin catches Yoongi’s raised eyebrow and then looks away from it with a quick turn of his head. “I’ll drop it off later. Me obtaining sustenance is far more important.”
“Sustenance,” Yoongi teases, following Seokjin into the elevator. “You got a word of the day calendar or something?”
“Yep,” Seokjin says with a cheeky grin. “I keep it on my desk next to my stress ball bomb-omb and underneath my motivational alpaca poster.”
Yoongi barks a laugh that’s a little bit too loud for an elevator, but Seokjin chuckles too, and the sound carries down with them as they descend floors. Yoongi carries his smile out of the elevator and into the cold night air.
“So, maeuntang is a no, but curry isn’t?”
Seokjin blows on his spoonful of seafood curry before he slurps up a squid tentacle and chews it up. “Hey, this is different,” he stresses, tapping the edge of his spoon against his half-finished plate. “This isn’t spicy.”
Indeed, it’s not. Yoongi grabbed himself a spicy beef curry with zucchini squash, carrots, and shrimp tempura as extra toppings. Not his ideal place to be eating Japanese curry, but it’s not like he was really going to suggest something else to eat. It’s been a good minute since he decided to sit down at an abiko curry. Usually, the loud tourists at the Hongdae location annoyed the fuck out of him too much to enjoy sitting down and grabbing a cheap bite.
But, tonight, it’s somewhat bearable. Maybe because Seokjin himself is also loud and annoying about how at least with this curry, his asshole isn’t going to be on fire compared to how it would have been if he had some maeuntang. “Trust me, if you thought listening to them fucking would be the worst thing you would ever hear in your life, then you have not heard the sound of me using the bathroom after eating something spicy after five.”
“Maybe we should have fed you something spicy. They could be traumatized by hearing their neighbor loudly taking a shit next door while they have sex, and maybe they’ll associate those experiences together and maybe never do it again,” Yoongi suggests. He can’t believe he’s talking about a hot guy taking spicy Pavlovian shits over curry. What the fuck even is his life anymore.
“Okay, first of all, I would need to do that enough times for them to associate having sex with the positive punishment of me taking a shit next door, and I love my asshole too much to put it through such trauma. Second, knowing them, they’ll probably find some way to get off to it, which is a flat out no from me,” Seokjin says.
“You think they’re the type to get off to someone shitting? That’s a whole new dimension of horniness, don’t you think, hyung?”
“I heard Yeobo fuck Baby with a popsicle one time when I was doing my late-night calisthenics. I feel like nothing from them would surprise me anymore.”
Yoongi wrinkles his nose. “That must have been a night I was still working at the record shop. Glad I missed out.”
“Actually, it was pretty hilarious listening to them panicking about the popsicle getting stuck in Baby’s asshole and trying to flush it out with an enema. It was one of those rare few times where I didn’t find them unbearably annoying,” Seokjin says with a wrinkle of his nose.
“Oh? And what were the other times?”
Seokjin stirs the curry around on his plate, prodding at a curled up piece of shrimp. “Well...I guess lately, I haven’t been bothered by them all that much,” he admits with a shrug and half-hearted mumble.
“Really?”
“Well, this time and the last time, we both just went out to eat. Can’t be annoyed with them when I have good food and good company, right?” Seokjin asks with a smile. His ears are turning pink and he laughs a windshield laugh as he smiles and it’s fucking cute and Yoongi really feels like kissing Seokjin right now. Which is weird. This is only their second food date that’s not even a date. He thinks it might be the curry that’s making his stomach turn around, but he still swallows another spoonful of it down.
“Maybe,” Yoongi says with a shrug and mumble too. His ears are burning right now. That’s probably the curry’s fault too. Probably.
2J is quiet when Yoongi and Seokjin return back to the apartment building a few hours later. They stopped to grab some frozen yogurt on the way back, and Yoongi wants to talk about how fucked up his own bowels are going to be when this spicy hot and frozen sweet mess in his stomach has the time to fully digest, but he has talked about taking a shit way too much for one night and would very much like to never discuss taking a shit for the rest of his life to come, thank you very much.
“I guess I’ll see you around, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin says. He salutes Yoongi goodbye with his tiny pink yogurt spoon and then uses that spoon to quickly steal one last bite of Yoongi’s frozen yogurt. He’s been doing that the entire walk back home. Yoongi didn’t have it in him to stop him.
“I’ll see you around too,” Yoongi says, remaining cool and calm and not thinking about shit, literal or metaphorical. He would take a swipe at Seokjin’s frozen yogurt, but Seokjin’s frozen yogurt concoction is a sugary nightmare of gummy bears, crushed cookie crumble topping, honey and chocolate, and other things that would keep Yoongi up until the witching hour.
So, he just waves his little pink spoon in goodbye, and Seokjin waves his spoon goodbye, and they both wave their spoons goodbye like two awkward grown men would do when neither wants to be the first to really say goodbye. They keep waving them as they inch little by little back into their respective apartments until the last thing Yoongi sees before he disappears inside is Seokjin waving his spoon from out of the door crack.
So, in a not-so-shocking turn of events, spicy shits wasn’t what a Pavlovian response was developed for. At least, not for Yoongi.
He really hates how now whenever he comes home from work, he only takes his shoes off but keeps his jacket on and his apartment fob tucked away in his pocket. He hates how when his stomach starts growling and his brain reminds him that he still has a very stocked refrigerator (because he’s an adult and he went shopping and he is putting his life together one bit at a time and that includes having the means to cook at home), he doesn’t do a damn thing about it. He hates that he plops himself down on the television and turns on some meaningless news report or a reality show he doesn’t even care about and not one of the shows that are on the watch list that is steadily growing.
Because the moment he hears Baby softly moaning for Yeobo, Yoongi is already walking back out of his apartment and right over to the elevator where Seokjin is already waiting for him.
“I’m in the mood for burgers this evening,” Seokjin says with a mocking air of refinery as they step into the elevator, arms brushing against each other. They’ve stopped minding the distance, but that doesn’t mean Yoongi stopped noticing it.
“What kind? Burger King or Mos Burger?” Yoongi asks.
“You heathen.”
“Ah. So McDonald’s then.”
Seokjin pinches Yoongi’s nose and Yoongi feels on top of the world.
They go out almost every night because Baby and Yeobo fuck almost every night, the menu changing but not the pure enjoyment Yoongi gets out of these outings, because they’re still not dates, no matter how much Yoongi wants to call them that in his head. Seoul is their oyster and food is their language. They enjoy some sushi on Tuesday, they walk around Itaewon with hand crepes on Thursday, they try out a meat kebab from a dubious looking food stall on Friday and Yoongi spends the Saturday afterward drinking ipecac and seltzer water.
The next evening they meet, Yoongi doesn’t feel embarrassed to say that Saturday was the worst Saturday of his life. Seokjin laughed at him, the sound almost enough to drown out how Baby and Yeobo are engaging in a sexy nurse and doctor roleplay and are moaning out filthy words and medical jargon from behind their apartment door.
“Now we’re shit buddies,” Seokjin says and Yoongi hates that he kind of thinks he’s in love with him.
Yoongi starts looking up restaurants during his downtime at the record shop that matches Seokjin’s taste palette, just so he can feel that warm and triumphant feeling in his chest when he hears Seokjin take a bite out of something he loves and moans around it.
And maybe, there are less innocent reasons for why Yoongi wants to hear the way Seokjin orgasmically moans around stuff in his mouth, but his mind doesn’t want to really think about those reasons for long. He tries not to think about how Seokjin sounds orgasmically moaning in general, and he really tries not to think about Seokjin’s asshole even when Seokjin is on one of his ‘shit joke’ kicks. Because that would be just...weird.
Then again, Yoongi is the one that is training himself to ask Seokjin out on not-dinner dates every time he hears his neighbors fucking, so what does he know about weirdness anyway?
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Seokjin asks out of the blue one evening. Their restaurant of the night is a pizza joint in Itaewon that Seokjin claims is ‘authentic New York pizza’. Neither of them really know what authentic New York pizza tastes like cause neither of them went to New York, but Seokjin says they put macaroni on their pizza slices, which according to him is about as American as you can get.
“Who?” Yoongi says around his ridiculously large slice of macaroni pizza.
“Baby and Yeobo.”
“Hmm.” Yoongi thinks as he chews. The extra carbs are siphoning some of his brainpower along with the visuals of Seokjin in front of him licking the pizza grease off his plump bottom lip. “I’d say two months.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You know, like when you’re in those early stages of the relationship and you just can’t keep your hands off of each other.”
“I don’t, actually.”
Yoongi looks at Seokjin with a raised eyebrow. “You never were like that with your boyfriends?”
“I mean,” Seokjin admits with a shrug of his shoulders. He takes another bite and licks the cheese off his lip. Yoongi discreetly slides Seokjin the napkin dispenser before he seriously loses his shit. “We fucked a lot, yeah. But it wasn’t like the way Baby and Yeobo do it. Like...they’re gross and annoying, but they’re also gross and annoying in love. Not even a two-months kind of love.”
“You’re saying they’ve been together long?”
“High school. Definitely.”
“Shit. I can’t even remember my high school boyfriend.”
Seokjin laughs his windshield wiper laugh. “That’s awful, Yoongichi! You haven’t even been out of high school that long!”
“Well, not like he really gave me much to want to remember him for,” Yoongi admits dryly. He slips down in his chair, feeling his foot brush against Seokjin’s. Seokjin starts brushing his foot against Yoongi’s too and Yoongi would have taken it as Seokjin flirting with him, except Seokjin’s ‘brushing’ is more like ‘mortal kombat death kicking’.
“And your more recent boyfriends weren’t anything memorable?” Seokjin asks. Again, he licks his lips instead of wiping his mouth. Also, his foot kicking starts moving up the side of Yoongi’s ankle, threatening to go higher and kick Yoongi’s shins out.
“Haven’t been with anyone for a while that mattered, so the answer is no.”
“Really?” Seokjin sounds genuinely surprised, which Yoongi takes both as a compliment and an embarrassment. “How long, a few months?”
Yoongi takes a bite of his pizza.
“A year?”
Yoongi pushes the pizza slice further into his mouth.
“Longer than a year?”
If there was an award for deepthroating a slice of New York pizza with macaroni on top, Yoongi would be the champion.
“Stop before you choke,” Seokjin warns and Yoongi swallows his bite so it sits like a rock in his stomach. “Wow, that long, huh?”
“Not everyone can be stupidly handsome and get two boyfriends to worship their temple of a body, hyung,” Yoongi grumbles. Seokjin dares to give a cocky smirk at that. His kicking turns softer, and more like grazing. Up and down and up and down Yoongi’s leg. It makes Yoongi choke on a macaroni noodle.
“You need someone to worship your body like a temple, Yoongichi,” he drawls. He takes a bite of his slice of pizza and the cheese pulls off the bread to slap against his chin, which then makes Seokjin sputter and cough and finally take a napkin so he can wipe the tomato sauce and oil from his face. It is the dumbest attempt at seduction Yoongi has witnessed. He hates that it turns him on.
“Are you offering?” he asks. There’s not much cheese on his slice of pizza to really do a ‘sexy cheese pull’ (which is odd because it’s a mac and cheese pizza, but whatever), so Yoongi takes a macaroni noodle and sexily rolls it around his tongue. He’s certain he looks ridiculous practically fellating a tiny noodle, but Seokjin also looks really turned on by it, so maybe they’re both just weirdos. Maybe they’re just as bad as Baby and Yeobo.
Seokjin orders them a whole pizza to go and they head back to the apartment building. Yoongi’s stomach is really turning over and doing an entire girl group dance routine on the elevator ride up to their apartments. This is a really bad night for fucking. He ate way too much pizza and pasta and drank too much coke and he feels so bloated right now that he thinks he’s either going to fart or throw up or maybe a sick combination of both.
2J is quiet and the air between Yoongi and Seokjin is heavy. Yoongi stares at the ground, awkwardness really settling in over his shoulders. Fuck. They’re going to fuck.
“...So, uh...your place or mine?” Seokjin asks. He doesn’t have any right to look just as awkward as Yoongi feels right now. He started it with his stupid kangaroo footsie.
But when Yoongi looks at him out of the corner of his eye, he sees Seokjin’s pink ears and his shiny pupils nervously shaking, and the little bob of Seokjin’s adam’s apple when he gives a hard swallow, and Seokjin is wearing this stupid expensive Burberry coat while also holding a cheap cardboard box containing a greasy whole ‘American mac and cheese’ pizza. And all of that wrapped together makes Yoongi feel endeared. And horny. And dumb.
“Your place,” Yoongi grunts.
Seokjin nods.
They head into 1J quietly. Yoongi closes the door behind him quietly and takes his shoes off quietly. His stomach doesn’t get the memo and gurgles loudly. Strangely, it’s just what he needs to hear.
Seokjin chuckles under his breath. “Are you still hungry?” he asks.
“Yeah. For some sausage pizza.”
Seokjin laughs. “Oooh, wow. That was bad. Even for me.”
“The guy who makes a poop joke once a week says my one dick joke is bad?” Yoongi chastises, following Seokjin into the kitchen because he doesn’t really know what to do with himself and needs to keep this momentum up before he starts to think and starts to panic and fuck.
Seokjin clears off the marble countertop to set the pizza box down. His kitchen is far cleaner and looks more put together than Yoongi’s does. Yoongi bets if he opens Seokjin’s refrigerator, it’ll be fully stocked and neatly organized and it’ll just make Yoongi want to suck his dick more.
“Yah, I haven’t even said a poop joke this week!” Seokjin exclaims.
“You’re right. You’re slipping, hyung.”
Seokjin crosses the little space between them. It’s a small kitchen, a small apartment. Just like Yoongi’s and 2J’s and every other apartment on this floor, but it feels even smaller now that Seokjin’s chest is against his and Seokjin’s hands are sliding onto Yoongi’s hips.
“What do you call a magician that does shitty magic?” Seokjin asks in a low whisper while staring deeply into Yoongi’s eyes.
“Unemployed.”
“Poodini.”
Yoongi lets Seokjin get in two laughs before he pulls him down in a kiss.
Seokjin’s mouth feels soft against his mouth. His lips feel warm and he’s still giggling about his stupid poop joke when Yoongi slips his tongue inside his mouth, which makes Yoongi moan and the vibrations tickle his throat. Seokjin tastes like a probably not authentic New York slice of pizza and Yoongi is sure his mouth tastes worse. Then Seokjin digs his thumbs into the crests of Yoongi’s hipbones and pushes him up against his refrigerator. Yoongi is now 98% certain that it is fully stocked. It made a pretty heavy thud when his body got slammed against it, which was hot as fuck.
“You taste like macaroni,” Seokjin mumbles, licking into Yoongi’s mouth like a heathen.
“You’re gross,” Yoongi mumbles back. He takes Seokjin’s puffy bottom lip in between his teeth and pulls on it, lets it go, and watches the color rush back in before he gets the brilliant idea to do it again and again and again.
Seokjin keeps Yoongi there, kissing him with his pizza breath and pushing him further up against the refrigerator door. It’s not fair how built Seokjin feels against Yoongi’s body. Firm muscle hides underneath Seokjin’s unreasonably expensive jacket and Yoongi wants to trace each bulge with his tongue. He pulls at the jacket and sucks at Seokjin’s bottom lip. “Take this off,” he demands.
“Rude. This is my apartment,” Seokjin says, while also doing exactly what Yoongi wants and taking off his coat to neatly hang over the back of his dining chair. Yoongi starts wriggling out of his coat too, and soon it becomes a weird race to who can strip the fastest. They’re not even in the bedroom.
“Wait, hold on, can I use your bathroom?” Yoongi asks, peeling off his shirt to toss non discreetly into the corner of Seokjin’s living room.
“For what?”
“Uh, to rinse my mouth out?”
“Did my breath stink that bad?” Seokjin asks with an awkward laugh. He pulls off his shirt too so Yoongi isn’t the only one half-naked, like a true gentleman. Seokjin’s shoulders are broad and his chest is big. He also is turning red from the center of his chest, the color blooming outwards like a flower. It makes Yoongi feel endeared and horny. This is a night of firsts for him, and he is shivering in anticipation of what else is to come.
“I wanna suck your dick,” Yoongi clarifies, “and I don’t want to do that with pizza and macaroni breath.”
“Oh. Hmm. Yeah true.” Seokjin gestures with a hand down the hallway, then begins to walk down the hallway himself, Yoongi following at his heels. Seokjin’s bathroom is the same size as Yoongi’s bathroom, but Yoongi notes that Seokjin has a full bath and shower combination while Yoongi just has the shower. Seokjin has a wide array of bubble baths, bath bombs, and bath salts both stacked on tiny ledges on the shower wall as well as underneath the sink where he keeps his mouthwash. Yoongi thinks about fucking Seokjin in the bathtub, and decides ‘maybe later’.
God, he’s thinking about there being a later. He’s in deep. What has happened?
Both he and Seokjin share a swig of mouthwash, rinse, gargle, and spit. Seokjin sounds like Chewbacca when he gargles with mouthwash, which should somehow diminish his sexiness, but the whole ‘being shirtless and also hot’ equally cancels it out.
“Alright,” Yoongi says, wiping his chin dry. “Take me.”
Seokjin snorts, but he pulls Yoongi back by his hips and kisses him. Minty fresh. Perfect.
They kiss and kiss and Yoongi stumbles them both back into the hallway, where Seokjin takes the lead and guides Yoongi forward and into another room. Yoongi’s hands tangle in Seokjin’s hair, liking the way it feels between his fingers and liking even more the tiny growls Seokjin makes whenever Yoongi pulls. Seokjin’s hands find their way to Yoongi’s belt buckle and swiftly removes it, undoing his pants and palming Yoongi through his boxer briefs.
“Hyung,” Yoongi pants, digging moon crescents into Seokjin’s back. He feels hot all over, in his stomach and his chest and especially between his legs where Seokjin is rubbing him to full hardness. Seokjin chuckles, lips against Yoongi’s ear.
“Thought you were going to suck me off,” Seokjin reminds. He keeps teasing the brim of Yoongi’s underwear like he so conveniently forgot how to use his fingers. Yoongi is sure Seokjin can feel the wet sticky spot growing against the cotton, so the lazy strokes and almost there touches have Yoongi huffing in frustration against Seokjin’s shit-eating grin.
Yoongi stumbles back out of Seokjin’s touch, taking himself a moment to remember where he is and how to use his legs. Seokjin’s bedroom is definitely bigger than Yoongi’s. Or maybe it just looks that way because it’s cleaner and he can actually see the floor. The bed is certainly bigger and there’s no recording equipment or record crates scattered along the wall. There is just a big bed and a wardrobe system and a computer desk and--
“What the fuck is that?” Yoongi questions, pointing a finger at the opposing bedroom wall.
Seokjin looks as he gets himself comfortable on the bed, readying himself for receiving head. “I told you I had a motivational alpaca poster,” he explains simply. Yoongi looks at Seokjin, then at the poster, then back at Seokjin.
“You sleep with that thing looking at you?” he asks in astonishment.
“Hey! It instills confidence within me while also being cute,” Seokjin says frankly. He gives a shimmy out of his jeans and takes himself out of his underwear through the slit. Yoongi takes a moment to watch Seokjin stroke his cock. He’s...well, he’s big. Bigger than the dildos Yoongi was riding with. Maybe even bigger than the last guy he had a one night pity fuck with. It’s thick and flushed red and circumcised and when Yoongi sees Seokjin rub his thumb around the leaking tip, he swears his mouth fucking waters.
“Can’t believe I’m going to suck the dick of a guy that has a motivational llama hanging in his room,” Yoongi says as he stalks towards the bed, crawling in between Seokjin’s legs, his breath warm over Seokjin’s fingers steadily going up and down his cock.
“Can’t believe you’re going to suck my dick in general,” Seokjin murmurs, a tinge of sincerity in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
Seokjin stops stroking his dick, so Yoongi decides to take over. Seokjin’s cock is hot in his grasp, throbbing against his palm. When Seokjin overlays his hand over Yoongi’s to adjust Yoongi’s grip on him, it gets Yoongi hungry.
“Cause you’re really cute,” Seokjin replies, stroking Yoongi’s hand over his cock. Up, down. Up, down. He shudders a breathy moan. Yoongi scoots up more just so he can taste it coming from Seokjin’s minty lips.
“You’re only saying that cause I’m going to suck your dick,” Yoongi says dryly. He pushes his forehead against Seokjin’s, looking down as Seokjin takes his other hand to try and get Yoongi’s cock out. Yoongi likes to think he has a pretty decent dick, but comparing it to the one he’s stroking is a laughable idea. Seokjin starts jerking Yoongi off just as slowly, and Yoongi thinks he should lay his hand over Seokjin’s and show him how he likes it.
But the thing is, Seokjin’s hand already feels so good around him. His palm is soft and Yoongi just feels hot and tingly all over. He keeps breathing against Yoongi’s lips, sometimes licking at Yoongi’s bottom lip, and all that along with the fact that Seokjin hasn’t removed his hand from guiding Yoongi’s over his cock just makes Yoongi’s brain into mush. He chokes out a moan when Seokjin squeezes his cock at the base, dipping his fingers lower to roll his balls in his hand.
“You were cute before you said you’d suck me off, you know.”
“Really. Tell me how I was cute.”
Seokjin kisses him, probably just because he feels like it. He takes his hand off Yoongi’s cock momentarily, just so he could guide Yoongi down closer to him, his weight settling over Seokjin, their bodies flushed against each other just so Yoongi can feel how hot they’re getting just as Seokjin wraps his grip around Yoongi once more.
“You sway like seaweed when you eat something you like,” Seokjin says with a smile that Yoongi kisses off.
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“Really?”
“Yoongichi, we’ve been on, like, fifty dinner dates. Trust me, you do. And it’s fucking adorable.”
Yoongi’s stomach does a happy flop. Dates. Yep, he is sucking this man’s dick.
He kisses Seokjin again, starts kissing down Seokjin’s reddened chest, his tightening stomach, and down to his happy trail that goes into his underwear. He wraps his fingers around the elastic and decides to do away with it entirely, pulling it down Seokjin’s legs just enough so that it ends up hanging off Seokjin’s ankle, Yoongi keeps Seokjin’s hand on his, bringing his mouth around the tip and flattening his tongue against the slit where Seokjin’s cock weeps.
Yoongi is not watching Seokjin, but he does hear Seokjin’s headboard make a tiny thud sound, the way it might sound if Seokjin accidentally tossed his head back in pleasure. Seokjin curses a quiet ‘fuck’ that is both annoyed and endeared. Yoongi laughs around Seokjin’s length as he swallows him down.
Seokjin is quiet when he gets his dick sucked. Yoongi listens to his heavy breathing, his drawn-out sighs. Seokjin’s hand finally moves off of Yoongi’s hand, just to go up and tangle itself in Yoongi’s sweating hair, guiding him that way too. His fingernails scratch against Yoongi’s scalp every time Yoongi squeezes Seokjin’s balls as he moves his head down. Yoongi likes the way it feels, so he keeps doing it again and again until Seokjin moans from his stomach.
“Hey,” Seokjin mumbles in a daze, “what are the odds of fucking you?”
Yoongi has been humping his hips against Seokjin’s bed for the last few minutes. When he sits upon his knees, his stomach does another ominous gurgle.
“Honestly, I want to say I would sit on your dick, but my stomach might say otherwise. Are you up for switching?”
“I would agree, but I think my stomach is feeling the same way.”
“Fuck fake New York pizza.”
Seokjin laughs, not looking all that disappointed by it. He pulls Yoongi back on top of him, dicks sandwiched between each other’s stomachs. The pressure and heat against Yoongi’s belly aren’t helping his digestion, but fuck it.
“Next time then,” Seokjin says, giving Yoongi a kiss, licking the taste of him out of Yoongi’s mouth. Gross.
“You’re pretty confident there’s going to be a next time,” Yoongi says with fake petulance. He starts humping Seokjin’s leg, panting against his mouth when his hips find a rhythm and the friction is delicious.
“We talk about each other taking a shit, we have laid hands on each other’s dicks, and you’ve seen my motivational alpaca poster. If we’re not boyfriends by the end of this, I might actually have to move out of this apartment building for real.”
Yoongi suckles on Seokjin’s bottom lip, humming against it. “Can’t let that happen,” Yoongi murmurs. “Someone more annoying than Baby and Yeobo might move in.”
Seokjin laughs again and Yoongi swallows the sound down his throat, moving his hips slower now, savoring the drag of his cock against Seokjin’s smooth thigh. Seokjin brings a hand down to Yoongi’s hip, rocking with Yoongi’s movements. He pulls back and pushes their foreheads together, looking down at the mess Yoongi’s dick is making over Seokjin’s skin.
“That’s hot,” he says, slipping his hand back just a bit so he could grab Yoongi's asscheek. “Watching you use me to get yourself off.”
“You like that?” Yoongi questions.
“Yeah. Use me. Make yourself come.”
Yoongi doesn’t need to be told that twice.
He’s a panting mess when he feels the orgasm build and stirs around the contents of his stomach. Yoongi slips away from grinding against Seokjin’s thigh to lying fully on top of him and grinding their dicks together. Seokjin keeps squeezing and massaging Yoongi’s ass, moving his hips so they meet the pull and slide of Seokjin underneath him. And sometimes, Seokjin’s fingertip grazes against Yoongi’s asshole, and it makes him almost lose his damn mind.
“Come on,” Seokjin whispers. “Come on. I wanna see you come. Wanna hear what you sound like when you’re coming.”
Yoongi raises his face up from where he had it tucked against Seokjin’s sweating neck. He must look absolutely fucked out if Seokjin’s pleased little grin is anything to go by, which is embarrassing because they’re not even fucking. They’re just sloppily grinding against each other and Seokjin is just occasionally fingering his asshole.
Then he looks into Seokjin’s eyes and sees his reflection in the deep dark pools of black swallowing the color of Seokjin’s pupils, and their mouths are close together, breathing hot and heavy against the other without touching. Seokjin’s cock is hot and thick against Yoongi’s and Yoongi thinks about the day when he sits on it.
It’s that thought of having Seokjin sprawled out underneath him as he sinks down on his cock -- of Seokjin wiping that little smirk off his face, making Seokjin moan for him -- that makes Yoongi’s eyes roll back and go stiff against Seokjin. “Fuck, fuck,” he grunts through tightly clenched teeth, feeling the orgasm coming out of his toes. Suddenly, the embarrassment of realizing he’s making a stupid orgasm face for a really good nut hits Yoongi, making him quickly hide his face in Seokjin’s neck and almost pulling Seokjin’s hair out of his scalp. He still keeps coming, body pulling each pleasurable wave out of him from the core of his stomach as it gets considerably stickier in between their stomachs. He doesn’t know for how long, but when he finally stops, he feels limp and satiated and sleepy.
“Mmm, good,” Yoongi moans against Seokjin’s neck, finally having the energy to lift his head and look into Seokjin’s face. “You’re a keeper.”
Seokjin laughs at that and Yoongi lifts his hips up so he’s not fully crushing Seokjin under his weight. Seokjin stops him from fully crawling off though, a hand to Yoongi’s hip. “Let me clean you off,” he says, a glimmer in his eyes. He urges Yoongi up onto his knees and forward with a push to the back of Yoongi’s thighs, till Yoongi gets the idea and crawls over so he has two hands braced against Seokjin’s headboard and his knees framing Seokjin’s head, his spent cock slipping easily past Seokjin’s mouth.
Yoongi doesn’t get too oversensitive just after an orgasm, but he does feel twitchy in his bones and his arms are beginning to quake. Seokjin licks his cock clean with a dazed off expression in his eye, one hand holding Yoongi’s hip (possibly the real thing that is keeping Yoongi from going slump and boneless) while the other begins to jerk himself off. With a hand in Seokjin’s hair to keep his head still, Yoongi begins to thrust. In and out, in and out, watching the way Seokjin’s lips stretch around his cock as he swallows him down.
“You’re gonna get me hard again,” Yoongi breathes out, but he doesn’t make it sound like a warning. Seokjin chuckles and Yoongi can feel the vibration of his throat in his toes.
Blindly, he reaches back, brings his hand over Seokjin’s wrist, just so he can feel how frantic Seokjin is getting off to having Yoongi’s cock in his mouth. For some reason, Yoongi starts panting again, and Seokjin starts moaning around his cock, and Yoongi wonders if Baby and Yeobo can hear them having sex right now. The thought of it strangely makes him whimper louder.
When Seokjin orgasms, it hits fast. Yoongi blinks once, and suddenly Seokjin is flushed red and his eyes are scrunched up tight. He bucks up his hips and Yoongi can feel a splash of come hit his wrist and a little bit on his forearm and lower back. Seokjin makes a guttural moan around Yoongi’s cock, tilting his head back so Yoongi’s hand cradles him better than the pillow underneath. His mouth falls open and the sound is heavenly. Better than the food orgasms. This sound bite is probably going to play on repeat in Yoongi’s head for weeks.
Yoongi pulls his hand back and inspects the mess made. “Why’d you come so much?” he questions with a wrinkle of his nose.
Seokjin looks too out of it to answer with a joke or even sarcasm. He rubs his hands up and down Yoongi’s thighs with slow reverence and a stupid grin. Yoongi decides to excuse him for lack of answering, and when he sucks a finger in his mouth to lick Seokjin’s come off his hand, the entranced look in Seokjin’s eyes make Yoongi feel like a god.
Yoongi slides off of Seokjin with a tiny grunt and curls up next to him, listening to the sounds of their breathing mixing together with the heated air and staring up at the ceiling. The first one to move is Seokjin, who gets out of bed and comes back with a wet towel, bottled water, and a slice of cold pizza.
“Are you joking right now?” Yoongi asks, taking the water bottle when offered and watching Seokjin clean the come off his stomach while eating cold macaroni and cheese off a slice of fake New York pizza.
“I got hungry,” Seokjin admits with a shrug. He cleans Yoongi off too, and he offers him a bite. Yoongi holds off on it until Seokjin crawls back in bed with him, both eating the slice down to the crust and listening to the gurgling of their stomachs make a gross symphony.
“So,” Seokjin starts, finishing off the crust and stretching his arms around Yoongi to pull his naked body up against him, “boyfriends?”
Yoongi pretends to toss the idea around in his head, but his body has already curled around Seokjin’s, claiming him as his. “I guess we can try this whole dating thing...should we have pet names for each other? Try calling me yeobo.”
“Yeobo,” Seokjin says flatly. He snuggles against Yoongi’s shoulder. His thumb traces spiderwebs on Yoongi’s hip.
Yoongi shakes his head, feeling endeared, but not because of the name. “We’ll think of something else,” he says and gets their limbs further tangled up with each other before Seokjin switches off the lights. “But I’m warning you now. If you fart in your sleep, we’re breaking up.”
“Shouldn’t have had that slice of pizza then,” Seokjin says, and by now, they’re too wrapped up in each other and their bodies are too close and warm for Yoongi to pull away from him in disgust. He feels Seokjin kiss his hair and Seokjin’s fingertips groggily trace along the back of his neck. His heartbeat feels good against Yoongi’s. In the darkness, Yoongi smiles the dopiest grin against Seokjin’s pulse point.
Yeah, he’s a keeper.
Seokjin’s fridge is fully stocked, but Yoongi doesn’t immediately drop to his knees upon seeing it.
“Are you going to cook breakfast or should I?” Yoongi offers with a yawn. It feels weird putting on the same clothes he had on yesterday and not sneaking out of the apartment of his one-night stand. But he has to admit the shared shower (and the morning shower blowjobs that happened during it) are a nice trade-off.
Seokjin stands upright with a tiny huff, closing the refrigerator door. “I’m out of eggs,” he explains. Yoongi juts his thumb towards the door.
“I have some. You wanna, I don’t know, come over my place for breakfast?”
“Are you cooking for me?”
“I don’t let anyone cook in my kitchen but me, so the answer is yes.”
“Oooh, Yoongichi. You really know how to treat your boyfriend well.”
The name and title make the back of Yoongi’s neck heat up. He tries to fight down the smile, but Seokjin laughs bright and jovial and way too loud for eight in the morning, and Yoongi figures, what the hell?
They slip on their shoes and Seokjin grabs his apartment fob before he follows Yoongi out into the hallway. The crazy cat ahjumma from 4J is heading to the elevator, apparently going out for her morning power walk in a bright pink windbreaker with a giant cat head on the back. She smells like tobacco as she passes them by with a grunt at Yoongi and a smile and wave at Seokjin. She still has rollers in her hair.
“How come she’s nice to you?” Yoongi asks with a frown.
“We have mutual respect for each other. Plus, I apparently look like one of her ex-husbands.”
“How many ex-husbands does she have?”
“A gentleman never kisses and tell, Yoongichi.”
Yoongi snorts and rolls his eyes, glancing over at 2J’s closed and eerily quiet door. “...You know, we should say hi to them,” he says out of the blue, looking over his shoulder at Seokjin’s perplexed raised eyebrow. “You know, be neighborly and shit or whatever.”
“What should we say to them? ‘Hey, thanks for having crazy sex ever since you moved in because we voluntarily sexiled ourselves and in the process fell in love’?”
“Yeah, that’s romantic, isn’t it?” The thought of actually meeting Baby and Yeobo makes Yoongi’s chest do a little hiccup. “Or weird. Actually, that might be weird. Let’s not meet them.”
Before Seokjin could whole-heartedly agree with Yoongi’s sentiments and they both could continue on to Yoongi’s apartment for breakfast and after-breakfast sex, there’s a loud clearing of someone’s throat that comes from behind them both.
Yoongi turns the same time Seokjin does, both setting their eyes on a tall looking wall of a man. He looks like he just came from a jog, but Yoongi knows that’s not accurate because this man is holding onto the handles of a rickety-looking bike with a crooked basket. His glasses are huge on his nose and his skin is honey-smooth. His eyes blink at Yoongi and Seokjin. Yoongi and Seokjin blink right back at him.
“Uh. Can I help you with something?” the guy asks, and holy fuck.
“Yeobo?” Yoongi blurts like an absolute idiot. Yeobo’s eyes widen in surprise the same time Seokjin loudly says “Yo! Boy! As in, hi, we’re your neighbors.”
“...Uh, hi?”
“Hi. Yeah. Welcome to the neighborhood. Even though you guys have been here for months, but we just wanted to be neighborly and say hi and good morning and oh, I see you ride bikes. I’m more of a calisthenics kinda guy--”
“I’m Yoongi. 3J,” Yoongi interrupts, awkwardly laying his hand over Yeobo’s.
“Seokjin, 1J,” Seokjin says, and he puts his hand on top of Yoongi’s.
Yeobo stares at them like he has absolutely no idea what to make of this situation. Frankly, Yoongi doesn’t either, and this is the first time he really feels like he has made a connection with 2J.
“...Namjoon, 2J?”
Ok. Namjoon.
“So, uh, you guys like it here in the neighborhood? I mean, I guess you do. You guys have been here for months now.”
Namjoon tilts his head from side to side. “It wasn’t a move we were planning on, but my husband got a really good job offer and I didn’t want him to miss out on the opportunity.”
“Husband,” Seokjin repeats with wide eyes and a toothy grin. “How long have you been married?”
Namjoon turns pink in the face. A smile shapes his lips into a pretty little crescent. “Um, for five years now...but we’ve been together since high school.”
Seokjin looks at Yoongi with a smug grin. Namjoon looks between the two of them, still not understanding what the fuck is going on and why haven’t Seokjin and Yoongi removed their hands from his.
“Uh. Cool. Yeah. So, uh, we’re your neighbors and...nice meeting you, I guess,” Yoongi says with an agreeable nod. He pulls his hand away, which also moves Seokjin’s away. Seokjin still keeps his hand clutching Yoongi’s, but Yoongi doesn’t feel a need to fix that.
In spite of his still obvious confusion, Namjoon offers them a dimpled smile. “Thanks! Glad to meet you two after this long. My husband actually keeps to himself a lot of the time, but I’ll let him know you dropped by to say hi--”
2J comes swinging open and all three heads turn.
Standing in the doorway is another man who is young and fit and is most definitely naked underneath that starch white apron that has ‘Wanna Rub My Meat?’ written across the chest. If that wasn’t distracting enough, the guy’s chest is ripped and his nipples are pierced and his left arm is covered in tattoos. There’s actually a lot to get distracted with upon looking at apparently Baby.
Big doe eyes lock with his, dart to Seokjin and then Namjoon, and then the door gets slammed right in their faces.
Well. Okay.
Yoongi turns to Namjoon, who already looks really embarrassed that this introduction has gone on for so long, and says, “Well bye!”
He squeezes Seokjin’s hand and drags him into his apartment.
“Well,” says Seokjin, “that could have gone better.”
Yoongi winces at him and winces more when he hears the sound of Namjoon entering his apartment next door, clumsily banging his bike up against the doorframe as he comes in.
“Baby, it’s okay,” he hears Namjoon console.
Baby sounds like he’s tearing up. “There’s usually no one up when you go on your bike ride,” Baby confesses with a hurt warble. “This is so embarrassing.”
“They’re our neighbors, Baby. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Yeobo, that just makes it worse.”
Yoongi feels horribly compelled to go to the wall, knock on it twice, and tell Baby that he has seen and heard far more traumatizing things that have come out of their apartment, but decides against it at the last second for fear of being accused of creepily eavesdropping, which he kinda-sorta is.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon says, “I’m sure they don’t care about it. They seemed really nice. I think they’re a couple, actually.”
Seokjin smiles at Yoongi. “We already look like a couple,” he singsongs, then goes to Yoongi’s kitchen to start inspecting the cabinets and drawers. Yoongi follows him away from the door, swatting at Seokjin’s hand before he grabs a glass vial of pink Himalayan salt. “What do you use to cook with that?” Seokjin asks with a raised eyebrow.
Yoongi cradles his (unopened) pink Himalayan salt bottle. “I’ll use it when I’ll use it and I’ll let you know all the details when that happens.”
“You’re so cute.”
“Stop that before you give me indigestion,” Yoongi says with the heat rushing to his cheeks. Seokjin laughs to himself and Yoongi forgets about his burning ears for the time being. It turns out to be an easy thing since as Seokjin’s laughter dies down, another muffled sound begins to filter into Yoongi’s ears.
Jeongguk is giggling.
“Mmm, Yeobo~” he purrs softly. “Don’t you want me to make you some breakfast first?”
“Think I’m hungry for something else,” Namjoon purrs right back. Then, in what Yoongi thinks was supposed to be a quiet sultry whisper, “Bend over the counter. Let me eat you out again.”
Yoongi looks at Seokjin, who has already gone pale with dread, the two of them standing in the kitchen and listening as the sound of Jeongguk’s giggles turn into soft, pleading moans.
“You know,” Seokjin says, ears turning pink, “there’s this little bakery that I was wanting to try. They make breakfast souffle and chocolate croissants and the bakery is very very far away from here.”
Yoongi smiles. “Is my boyfriend offering to treat me?”
“I paid for the pizza.”
“That doesn’t count. You weren’t my boyfriend yet.”
Seokjin pouts at Yoongi and, okay. He can’t help but kiss Seokjin then. It’s nigh impossible.
Jeongguk is panting and begging for Namjoon’s fingers as Yoongi slips back on his shoes and Seokjin slips his arm around Yoongi’s waist. They exit the apartment, give a cursory glance at 2J, and decide maybe some other time, they’ll do proper introductions and be properly neighborly or whatever.
Right now, there are some croissants Yoongi’s boyfriend needs to buy.