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"does he fuck you like this?"
hoseok's panting comes in harsh, staccato huffs against the sweaty expanse of his nape and yoongi can't stand this. him. can't stand any of it. he'd come to the studio to get away from thoughts jung hoseok, not to end up dancing with him to a slow, sultry r&b song - let alone while they were both shirtless and perspiring, labored breaths mingling in the heavy heat of the mirrored dance studio.
so good to see you here...
the question that hangs over yoongi's drooped head is punctuated by the taller's sharply thrusting hips, conveniently placed directly behind his own. with every pulse of the scattered trap beat, he can feel hoseok's pelvis jerk and stutter and he kind of wants to die. just a little.
yoongi shrugs and continues the fluid movements of the choreography, one they'd - once upon a time - worked on together for an assignment (that they both aced, thank you very much.) "i don't know what you're talking about, hoseok."
we both know it's been too long...
slender, commanding fingers snag at the waistband of his leggings and tug him back into a built chest, where he falls with a thud. yoongi can feel it rising up against him, the familiar musk of hoseok's perspiration making his head spin and his vision cloud over. it takes every ounce of self control he possesses not to press back into the flesh cage that surrounds him so comfortingly, as it had so many nights before.
show me just how you feel...
"you know exactly what i'm talking about, hyung." the honorific is drawled mockingly into yoongi's ear and his teeth grind. "does your new little boy-toy fuck you how i do? does he make you feel pretty?
hands creep up from his waist and crawl up into his shirt and under his skin like a damned parasite. yoongi represses a shiver.
now the taller has his neck craned down so his head can be right up against yoongi's own, lips ghosting the shell of his ear as the consonants and vowels they shape over go straight to his gut. "does he make you whine?"
"...hoseok-"
"does he let you call him oppa?"
before the song goes-
and it is with that heated whisper that yoongi finally snaps, finally whirls around and breaks hoseok's (weak) grasp, finally charges over to where his phone unassumingly lays atop the cabinets, and finally yanks the auxiliary cord from where it was joint.
the studio is dead silent. outside, the midnight traffic hums as the only accompaniment to this wicked dance that they perform.
like a tiger, yoongi advances with malevolence glinting in his eyes, and the puff of hoseok's chest suddenly diminishes. "listen," the blond gravels lowly, "i don't know what the fuck kind of game you're playing here, but it's over. now."
"all i'm doing-"
"all you're doing," yoongi interrupts, nearly foaming at the mouth, "is saying that you respected my choice of taking a break and then throwing that back in my face."
hoseok scoffs. "'my choice,'" he mocks, "see? there is no 'our.' no 'we.' only you. it was always only about you."
hysteria is frighteningly evident in the giggle that yoongi lets loose, the cacophony of a laugh bouncing eerily off of the reflective walls that seemingly caged the pair in. "oh, so now i'm the selfish one? i'm selfish for putting our hearts ahead of our dicks - for recognizing that whatever sham of a relationship we had wasn't worth the cost of our sanity?"
"there is no sanity without you, though, hyung."
and, oh, the hard glint in hoseok's eye is softening and he's gliding towards yoongi on those smooth dancer's feet of his, not stopping until he hovers right within the shorter's personal bubble - completely bypassing his walls.
like he always has.
yoongi reaches up to cup hoseok's cheek. he's always been weak; especially when it came to him.
"hobi," he breathes, and the younger shudders and lets the bravado leech out of his shoulders as he lets out a sob. heaving, hoseok's forehead drops until it meets yoongi's shoulder and he wails.
"missed you," he cries, speech muffled by his tears and the cloth of yoongi's work-out tee. "m'sorry, missed you so much, hyung."
and yoongi. he. he feels his heart constrict painfully at the bawled, hearty confession. the arms that he finds himself encircling around hoseok could rival the vice that's squeezing his chest, and he doesn't know if he wants either to let go. "oh, baby."
at the pet-name, hoseok only sobs harder. "pl-please-"
"hush, now, hyung knows. he knows. i'm sorry, hoseok-ah."
the dampness leaves the shoulder of his tee, and yoongi whips his head up to find beautiful, shining chocolate orbs boring straight into where his own stare right back, just as intently. "you mean it?"
the pout that hoseok wears gives the (rather candid) inquiry an almost childlike innocence, but yoongi knows that the man in front of him has been hurt enough already by the lack of gravity with which he'd regarded his feelings - so yoongi grips his shoulders tight, and gives a heavy nod.
"i mean it. we're going to try again. we'll do things better, this time. the right way."
hoseok sniffles and rubs at his tired, tired eyes. "with. with dates and all that shit?"
cute, yoongi internally coos. "yes, baby. with dates and all that shit."
despite the horrid hour, and despite the fluorescent faux overhead lights that adorned the studio ceiling; despite the weariness that settled deep within the marrow of both of their bones. despite the glaringly blatant flaws and complications and heartache which were sure to follow this agreement that they'd both reached-
despite all of that, hoseok's grin is brighter than any goddamn star out there.
so yoongi kisses it.
yoongi kisses that grin and he kisses hoseok so hard that he can't stand it. he brings his boxy, mannish hands to roughly tug at the soft strands of pale strawberry hair that graced the gentle slope of hoseok's nape, and he grips and pulls and twists until he has his boy whining and writhing in a familiar tango they'd both danced so long ago.
"fuck," hoseok gasps, his gorgeous dancer's hips rocking into yoongi's, "fuck, hyung, missed this, missed you,"
"i know, seok-seok. show hyung just how much you missed him."
and he'd always known what the pet-names and honorifics had done to hoseok, but he didn't quite grasp the severity of it until he feels the violent shiver rack his body, muscles twitching and spasming from just a couple of strung-together syllables. as yoongi trails his lips up, up, up until they reach right into hoseok's ear, and his hands down, down, down until they cup his tented sweats, he revels in the way that the taller is responding to so little with so much.
once upon a time, hoseok had spent an entire afternoon admiring yoongi's hands; the shape, the appendages, the rings, the callouses - everything. that night, yoongi had made him cry with a simple handjob.
the memory freshly smarts yoongi's mind as he slips his fingers beneath the younger's boxers. "how does hyung make you feel, seok-ah?"
"hyung m-makes me - fuck - feel sssoo...ngh..."
"good boys use their words," he sing-songs as he rubs the tip of his thumb just under hoseok's head and he takes immense pleasure in the way hoseok's eyes roll back up into his skull. "can you be a good boy and use your words for me?"
hoseok hurriedly nods. "yes, yes, yes, m'gonna...be so so good, hhnn..."
"yeah," yoongi asks, slipping a hand into his own leggings, "you gonna be good for hyung, seokie? gonna be good 'n come for hyung?"
"yes." he breathes in like he's possessed, gasping for air like a beached whale, and yoongi doesn't think he's seen anything more attractive. "g-gonna. close. close, hyung, m'so close, oh god-"
"me too," the elder grunts as he speeds up both of his arms' ministrations, "come on, baby. i'm there. i'm there."
the two of them climax with a shout of the other's name and stars in their eyes. when the influence of a libido leaks out through their briefs and down the sides of their calves, reality comes crashing down in the form of yoongi's hands resting heavy on the sides of hoseok's neck. a simple peck is all it takes for the rapid succession of thoughts to cease almost instantly; whatever else needed to be said could be discussed in the morning over pancakes and juice.
with a contented sigh, yoongi leads his lover into motion by the hand.
"let's go home, baby."