Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11340753.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Character:
      Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Jeon_Jungkook,
      Kim_Taehyung, Kim_Namjoon
  Additional Tags:
      hp!au, Room_of_Requirement_Shenanigans, Drinking, Anal_Sex
  Series:
      Part 1 of Harry_Potter_AU_Oneshots
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-29 Words: 5114
****** Some Things You Can’t Share Without Ending Up Liking Each Other ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     In which Ravenclaw Head Boy Jung Hoseok and Slytherin Prefect Min
     Yoongi are rival Quidditch commentators who place bets on the
     Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw game, lose some, gain some, and discover the
     Room of Requirement.
Notes
     My headcannon for HP!Bangtan differs quite a bit from Namjoon’s and I
     made a thread of it over on Twitter that you guys can check out if
     you want. I grew up with HP and I’m sure a lot of you guys did too. I
     was 9 when I started reading them and was 16 when the series ended. I
     may do a proper AU in the future but for now, here is this one-shot.
     Tumblr: http://teenie1227.tumblr.com
     Twitter: @teenuviel1227
     *EDIT* You can find the next installment here.
Hoseok sighs as he climbs up into the bleachers and slides into the
commentator’s booth. Around him, the cool, Autumn wind whips the flags around:
blue on bronze, green on silver. His robes billow in the air as he rushes to
sit down–the booth had a warming spell around it, and Hoseok is freezing. He
looks up at the gray but cloudless sky. Winter is definitely almost here. He
wraps his scarf closer around him, sees Jungkook and the rest of the Ravenclaw
Quidditch team warming up by the side of the field. Go, Kookie. You can do
it. Hoseok looks down at the commentator’s table as he sits, body relaxing in
the warmth. The nameplates read HOBI on his side in sparkling, sapphire blue,
and YOONGI on the other side in dazzling emerald green.
Hoseok clicks his tongue, takes a seat, puts on his SpeQs (Special Quidditch
lenses that came with replay features, drag and delay settings, enabled by
capture spell technology that worked in a similar way as a pensieve). He looks
around, spots Min Yoongi rushing across the field with his giant thermos–a
muggle one he’d found over the summer after taking a trip to Marks &
Spencer–which Hoseok has no doubt is filled with grainy coffee he’d tried to
manually brew. He sighs and settles in, waiting for Yoongi to arrive. Hoseok
had been dreading this game, had actually been hoping that Hufflepuff would win
over Ravenclaw and go to championships this year specifically so he wouldn’t
have to commentate with Min Yoongi. Just one damn year. Please. He watches
Yoongi’s mint-green head emerge from the makeshift stairwell. He’d dyed his
hair in support of his house and his bestfriend, Park Jimin. He’d done the dye
job  manually too, wouldn’t let Hoseok forget it. De-ve-lo-per, Yoongi told him
last week when they ran into each other in the Great Hall.
That’s the thing about his relationship with Min Yoongi–it isn’t that he
doesn’t like him, it’s just that Yoongi is obsessed with muggle things, with
the concept of “doing things manually”, and every chance he gets, he jumps on
Hoseok to ask him about whatever cute or strange thing he’d found. One time, it
had been a hairdryer he’d gotten at Diagon Alley (Hoseok told him it was a
gun–Yoongi didn’t understand how a gun plugged to the wall would be useful),
another time it was a Microwave they were selling at one of those knick knack
stores in Hogsmeade. Hoseok, having been born to Muggle parents in Seoul before
moving to Liverpool as a kid, found this extremely exhausting. Yoongi without
the Muggle stuff was alright; they’d talked about Quidditch once (how he could
side with Bulgaria, though, Hoseok has no idea) and about Hoseok’s favorite rap
duo, F.Siz & Baby G–obviously a tribute to the Fred & George Weasley. Hoseok
had kind of seen it, then–the reason why Jungkook always referred to him as
“Firebolt cool” and “super fucking ace”, going so far as to call him “Tomvolo
level genius”, after which Hoseok had, of course, told him to watch his
language. Voldemort was dead but hadn’t been dead that long; Hoseok said it
gave him the creeps at which point Jungkook had grumbled that everything gave
Hoseok the creeps. Hoseok had then brought up that Mr. HP himself was still
alive and kicking it as an Auror. It was here that Yoongi had decided to bring
up The Beatles–yes, Hoseok said, they, too, were from Liverpool.
The thing about Slytherin and Ravenclaw games is that they’d become
increasingly tense over the years. While the classic Slytherin and Gryffindor
rivalry still stood strong, Gryffindor’s priorities were less on sports and
more on extra-curriculars, external affairs these days–their Head Boy Seokjin,
for example, was issued a time-turner at the last school assembly, to help his
budding career as a Pensieve Star; he’d landed the second-lead role in a new
drama about a rich wizard, heir to his family’s Gringott’s fortune, who falls
for a less well-off but brilliant witch, both of them incidentally the leading
men’s bestfriends–so much so that their Quidditch Captain, Bae Irene, was often
absent for practice because she was leading the interschool Save The Dragons
campaign up in London. The thing that made Slyther-Claw games super tense (and
super intense) was the betting. Both houses were fond of being correct–and of
being it all the time. They bet money, broomsticks, at one point even wands,
over who would score and how. A bet where you got one out of two correct meant
you only half-lost but a bet where you got both correct meant you won double
what you’d bet. There was a binding spell put over the betting parchment so
you had to pay. Hoseok had sworn he wouldn’t bet this year but there he was,
almost listing down his favorite bear brick (which he would never show Yoongi)
but taking it back last minute and putting down his favorite Quidditch card
instead–it was of Gwendolyn Morgan riding her Cleansweep Five.
“Hey,” Yoongi says, voice gruff from the cold, as he sits down and lays his
thermos of coffee down on the table. He reaches into his robes, puts on his
SpeQs. “Coffee?”
“No thanks,” Hoseok says. “You ready to bite the dust?”
Yoongi grins, pours himself a cup into the lid–Hoseok had taught him that–and
takes a sip. “I think I’ve really got it right this time. Sip?”
Hoseok hesitates but takes a sip, too enticed by the smell of the coffee
filling the air. “Hey, not bad. Did you finally use paper filters like I told
you?”
Yoongi laughs, leaning forward. “Nah, I gave up and used my CafeColossus.”
Hoseok shakes his head. Yoongi’s parents were pretty well-off, his mom is a
retired Auror (discharged honorably, having been injured during the Gringotts
siege of 2006) living off of a good pension, his dad works as a charm developer
for MagiCloud. If Hoseok had his money, he sure wouldn’t be collecting muggle
stuff.
“I told you to throw the coffeemaker away. The CafeColossus takes half the
time, half the effort. You freakin’ put the beans in, register your container,
and it ends up in the damn container. I swear.”
“Well,” Yoongi says, grinning wide. “Today is your lucky day, Hobi. Because if
you guys win, I lose all my muggle stuff.”
“What?”
“I bet against you. Nothing beats a freaking Gwendolyn M card. That’s all I
have missing from my collection.”
“So you bet your muggle stuff for my card?” Hoseok repeats. “Why couldn’t you
just bet your allowance like a normal person?”
Yoongi shrugs. “I used it to buy the muggle stuff.”
“So if I win, I get your muggle stuff? And if I lose, you get my card?” Hoseok
asks in horror, his voice quaking with exasperation.
“Well. It depends. I bet that we would win but not by the Seeker finding the
Snitch. Quaffle points alone–we’ve got Park Jimin, remember?”
“Well, we have Jeon Jungkook! Fucking Tri-Wizard CHAMPION. I bet that we’d win
by finding the Snitch.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Yoongi says, outright laughing now. “Jungkook is
a Keeper.”
“I know that! I just meant he’d keep us safe while Hoshi found the Snitch. God.
Your game analysis is off.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen. “My game analysis is off? Park Jimin is the Quaffle Steal
King. We’ll have you guys begging by the end of the game. And Joshua isn’t a
bad Seeker, you know. He’s got good eyes.”
“Why did you bet against me anyway–”
“–you’re the one that I wanted to–”
The coach sounds the whistle, and the game starts. 
 
 
Ravenclaw loses the game three days later despite finding the Snitch–Yoongi was
right. It was too late in the game, Slytherin’s lead too large (one too many
Quaffle steals) for the 150 points to tip Ravenclaw into the lead. Jungkook had
been furious–he and Jimin had squared off on the field, fighting about the
legalities of the damn Quaffle steal. Hoshi had looked like he wanted to cry,
and of course, as commentators, they’d had to explain the whole thing to the
audience.
“After using his ace Quaffle steal technique, Park Jimin has one another great
victory for the Slytherin team–despite the fact that the Ravenclaws found the
golden Snitch,” Yoongi says, grinning mischievously at Hoseok.
“The legality of the Quaffle steal is being put into question by Ravenclaw
Captain Jeon Jungkook,” Hoseok shoots back. “Oh and it looks like spells are
being thrown! That’s a petrificus totalus put in by Slytherin Bludger
Moonbyul–it hits Ravenclaw Seeker Hyerin who has now fallen to the ground. The
referees are deciding on the legibility of the game.”
“And they’ve decided!” Yoongi jumps out of his seat. “Slytherin House wins the
Quidditch House Cup, putting Ravenclaw in second place, Hufflepuff in third,
and Gryffindor in fourth for this year.”
Hoseok groans, resting his forehead on the table. He’d be parting with his
favorite card. Moreover, he’d have to be interacting with Min Yoongi the whole
night at the celebration party at the Thirsty Hag, the pub just off campus.
Slytherin would be buying but that meant Ravenclaws would be especially picked
on–badly if they came, even worse if they skipped. There were howlers, tickle
spells, confusion charms. As Head Boy, he couldn’t run the risk, especially not
for their players. Also, none of them liked to waste Curfew Extension Charms.
For once, they were being allowed out on a weekday–why not go?
“Hey,” Yoongi says, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “You’re not–actually
mad are you?”
Hoseok looks up at Yoongi, feels a pang of guilt. Why am I being so
unpleasant? He looks at the concerned expression on Yoongi’s face, studies the
way that his eyes grow wide, the way that his lips form a small o. “No, sorry.
I just–really like that card. It’s fine. Do I bring it tonight since we’ll both
be there anyway?”
Yoongi nods. “Sure. See ya.” 
 
 
Dinner is torture at the Ravenclaw Table–sandwiched between Hufflepuff and
Slytherin. Jungkook isn’t sure who he’d rather face: Hufflepuff Captain Kim
Taehyung, his oldest rival as far as sports goes, or Slytherin Head Boy Park
Chanyeol, who’d bet his broom and MagiCloud gaming console, and had won Yoon
Jeonghan’s Gringott’s Crell (Credit Spell) fair and square. Jeonghan currently
sits cradling his head in his hands. He had a couple hundred Galleons in there
and as soon as the bet cleared, his parents would definitely be alerted.
“Captain Kookie,” Jeonghan had told him in the Ravenclaw common room as they
all got ready for dinner. “You said we’d win.”
“We would’ve too. But that damn Quaffle Steal,” Jungkook had said for what felt
to him like the millionth time that evening. “We got the Snitch. We should’ve
won.”
Much to his dismay, Jungkook doesn’t really get the chance to choose between
the SlytherPuffs because they all end up crowding around him–Taehyung coming by
to tell him that he’d bet all his money in the game against Jungkook and would
now be rich but no worries, he would definitely buy Jungkook coffee next time
they were in Hogsmeade just because he could, Chanyeol coming over to ask if
maybe Jungkook would like to discuss the legality of the roast beef or perhaps
the validity of the mashed potatoes?
In the end, it’s Yoongi, Jungkook’s favorite Slytherin by a long-shot, who gets
the clamor down. He pulls out a giant cone-shaped thing (one of his muggle
devices which he’s taken to calling the Prefect Thingy) and yells into it, his
voice booming across the Great Hall, so loud that even Headmistress McGonagall
and Transfiguration Professor Kwon look their way.
“ALL SLYTHERINS PLEASE SIT THE FUCK DOWN,” Yoongi says. “HUFFLEPUFFS, WHERE THE
HELL ARE YOUR PREFECTS? SOMEONE NEEDS TO DISCIPLINE YOUR CAPTAIN. HE’S RICH
MAYBE HE CAN BUY DINNER MANNERS.”
In shock, everyone jolts back, caught off-guard. Jungkook shoots Yoongi a
grateful look–they were partners in Charms during their second year and had
really gotten along. Yoongi waves him off and goes back to eating his dinner,
slipping the Prefect Thingy back under the table.
Hoseok arrives after everyone’s calmed down. He’d taken time to bid his card
goodbye, had taken numerous photos of it using his SmartGlass, saving it in the
best resolution possible. He’d taken time to calm his nerves, use one of those
mood patches that he’d bought last time he was at Diagon Alley. It had worked
somewhat. He isn’t crying, at least.
Jungkook waves him over. “I fucking love Min Yoongi.”
Right as he says this, Hoseok says, “I’m going to kill Yoongi.”
“What?” Jungkook says. “He’s Tomvolo fuckin’ amazing. You missed it but he
really stood up for me. Kill him and I’ll kill you. Sorry.”
“Stop saying Tomvolo.” Slowly, Hoseok’s gaze wanders over to the Slytherin
table where Yoongi is joking around with some of the fourth years, explaining
what the cone was and how the Muggles used it. Hoseok had told him the truth
about that one–there wasn’t much you could do with a cone aside from yell into
it or put it over your head, and if Hoseok is being perfectly honest with
himself, he really doesn’t mind Min Yoongi’s face all that much. He kind of
likes it.
 
 
It starts raining. Hoseok and Yoongi stand under the overhang of The Thirsty
Hag. Behind them, the music is still pulsing. They’ve both had quite a bit to
drink–since all the drinks were on Slytherin tonight, Hoseok had made sure to
drink more of his favorite BubbleBeer than he usually would, which was not a
lot anyway but he liked how it made him relax, how it fizzed in his mouth.
Yoongi had twice his usual Honey Bourbon–he’d be the one sorting the accounts
anyway, so what the hell. Now, they’re meeting for the card. That stupid,
stupid card, Hoseok thinks, suddenly sentimental. Rain water splashes against
their shoes. Hoseok glances at Yoongi who’s staring out at the rain. It’s kind
of refreshing to see him not wearing his uniform. Tonight, Yoongi is dressed in
all-black–sweater, jeans, sneakers. Hoseok suddenly feels underdressed in his
blue snapback, Head Boy sports jacket, and acid-wash jeans.
“Are we going to walk back or–”
“–thank you for standing up for Jungkook,” Hoseok says, slipping the card out
of his pocket and handing it to Yoongi.
Yoongi turns to look at Hoseok, takes the card from him, their fingertips
brushing against each other.
“No problem. He’s a nice guy. They all are, they just really like rough-
housing. And to be fair, I really had a hard time commentating these past few
days. It was a good game. I think he and Jimin will probably get picked for the
National Team if the Professors have their way.”
Yoongi grins as he looks at the card. In the picture, Gwendolyn is soaring
through the air, tossing the Quaffle into the ring. “I’m a bit sad, though, to
be honest.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “You’re not sad. You don’t have to be self-deprecating
for my sake. You won my card fair and fucking square. You guys won the game. Go
celebrate. I want to go to bed early.”
“I’ll walk back with you,” Yoongi says. “I’m pretty tired too.”
Hoseok gives him a quizzical look. “If you say so. The weather is shit though–”
“Aguada Prohibere,” Yoongi says, reaching into his pocket and flicking his wand
in an inverted u-shape while putting his free hand on Hoseok’s arm. When he
pulls Hoseok out into the rain with him, they stay dry, an arch forming over
them as they walk back toward campus. Keeping the storm away, Hoseok thinks,
watching the small smile on Yoongi’s lips, noticing that Yoongi hasn’t let go
of his jacket. 
 
 
Yoongi isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s walking with
Hoseok–the Hoseok, the one reason Yoongi had thought of shooting for Head Boy
last summer when he’d heard Hoseok was in the running too (unfortunately, he
hadn’t woken up), but he misses a step or a moving staircase somewhere and they
aren’t where they’re supposed to be which is the junction that moves between
their common rooms, sometimes to the East, sometimes to the West, but always at
the portrait of the naked lady on a horse.
“Where the hell are we?” Hoseok asks, clutching Yoongi’s arm.
“At Hogwarts,” Yoongi says, point-blank. He grins a little as Hoseok scoots
closer to him. Still a scaredy cat. He can bet that Hoseok doesn’t remember
when they’d first met, but Yoongi does. Yoongi had seen Hoseok on the platform,
bracing himself to run against the illusion of the wall like no one else Yoongi
had ever seen: he was genuinely afraid. Muggle-born, he’d thought. He’s
actually afraid of the wall.  
That had sparked a curiosity in Yoongi that just refused to die. The more that
he read up about Muggles on MagiCloud, the more his fascination grew. For one
thing, he was astounded at how well Hoseok did in school, how natural magic was
to him when he’d come from an entirely different life, a different world. How
did it look to him when he went home for the summer? Was it like trying to run
underwater? Did things seem slower? Or was it refreshing not to have to say
anything? To just be able to do things? Make things with your hands? There was
also, of course, the reason why he’d been looking at Hoseok on the platform in
the first place: he was–is–cute.
“Well duh we’re at Hogwarts but why the hell aren’t we where we’re supposed to
be?”
Yoongi pauses. “Maybe we took a wrong turn at the Library? We should double-
back.”
They go back, take the opposite direction, end up somewhere else for sure but
definitely not at the staircase they were looking for.
“Oh. Maybe here? This looks familiar,” Hoseok says, peering down a hallway,
pulling Yoongi after him.
Yoongi tries to think of different navigation spells they’d learned, different
directional charms, but then decides to go after Hoseok anyway. What the hell.
They walk down the corridor and there is something odd about it. Yoongi can see
that Hoseok senses it too–something in the way that the moonlight from the far
window hits the floor at a perfect slant, the way that the arrangement of
stones in the wall line up just-right to be slightly off-center. It’s familiar
but disconcerting, much like the template of a house in lieu of the house
itself.
Hoseok takes his wand out. “Lumos.”
He shines the light in front of them, around them, behind them, until the light
lands on a door, an ordinary door like all the other ones they see everyday.
“Hrrrm. Why do I feel like I should–”
“–wait, Hobi, stop,” Yoongi says, suddenly wary–what if they’d walked into one
of the traps that the Professors had set for intruders? What if they’d stumbled
onto something malignant? I could really, really use my Parchment Archiver
right now.
Hoseok opens the door, peers inside. “Oh. It’s pretty.”
“What?” Yoongi follows him into the room–and Hoseok is right. It’s pretty,
really pretty. The storm is still raging outside, framed by the window toward
the far end of the room. There’s a bed–singular, Yoongi notes–with fluffy
pillows, a faux-fur duvet. There’s a bottle of water and two glasses off to the
side, and a bottle of Champagne. That’s a muggle drink. Yoongi looks around
them, still suspicious. When his eyes fall on the bed, he starts to laugh, the
answer dawning on him. Sitting on the bed is his Parchment Archiver, last left
on his bed in the Slytherin dorms.
“It’s the room of requirement,” Yoongi says softly.
“What?” Hoseok says. “I thought that was just a myth. Jungkook said Taehyung
was bragging about smoking HollyHuff grass in it but I never thought it
actually–”
Yoongi is a couple of steps ahead. He got the fire in the fireplace, understood
the Parchment Archiver, but why the Champagne? Champagne–traditionally a
celebratory drink, originated in France, named after the place it was first
made. Sometimes viewed as romantic–oh. Oh. Yoongi realizes the room’s betrayal,
is suddenly conscious of everything. He feels himself start to blush. He looks
at Hoseok who seems to have chanced upon the same realization.
“Um,” Hoseok says, sitting carefully at the edge of the bed. “So. The door
disappeared.”
Yoongi looks up. “Yeah. I guess it’ll let us out when we…need to get out?”
Hoseok nods. “I guess so. Um. So. Do we sleep here?”
Yoongi shrugs, jumping off of the bed. “I can take the floor. Or maybe it’ll
supply us with another bed if we need it.”
Yoongi prays that it won’t.
Hoseok moves toward the side table, opens the bottle of champagne. The cork
doesn’t pop, simply slides out of the bottle, ready for Hoseok to pour. He
carries the glasses over to Yoongi, gives him one. “Cheers, I guess.”
“Cheers.”
“Why do you think this place thought we needed–a honeymoon suite?” Hoseok asks
nonchalantly. Yoongi’s heart is thundering in his chest, thinks he can hear it
louder than the actual thunder outside. “Oh, you might not know what that
is–it’s kind of a Muggle thing–”
“–I know what it is.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay. While we’re here, why the hell are you so fascinated with
Muggle things? Don’t take this the wrong way but while I’m at school, I’d
rather not think about having to do things the Muggle way. Just like when I’m
over there, I’d rather not think about casting spells and stuff.”
“Sorry,” Yoongi says, thinking of what to say. He looks up at Hoseok, who’s
taken off his cap, his jacket, his shoes, is sitting on the bed with his socks
still on. There’s a hole in the left one, his big toe peeking through. Oh what
the hell. “I can tell it kind of rubs you the wrong way sometimes but it’s
interesting to me. I guess it’s the same way you must’ve felt when you first
got here: literally another world with other rules. And also, to be honest–”
“–yes?” Hoseok is looking at him with wide eyes. Hopeful?
Just get it over with. “I’ve always kind of had a crush on you?”
“What!”
Oh fuck. Yoongi makes a waving gesture with his free hand. “Well I mean not now
but like when we were first years. I saw you on the platform being scared of
the fake wall and it made me laugh. Everyone knows about that. It was the first
time I’d actually seen anyone be afraid.”
“Well. What happened?”
“What happened? You were there, dumb ass. We went to school and then fast
forward give or take seven years and here we are.”
“No I mean. You said–not now?”
Yoongi studies Hoseok’s face. He looks–disappointed? “I mean. I think you’re
cute.”
“Me too,” Hoseok says, flinging himself onto the bed, face-first, smooshing his
face against the pillow.
“What?”
Hoseok pulls Yoongi in by his sweater so that they’re lying on their bellies
but facing each other. The lights in the room dim. “I mean. I think you’re cute
too. Really annoying sometimes when you’re trying to get me to explain what a
hairdryer–is but cute.”
Yoongi looks puzzled. “What’s a hairdryer?”
“Nevermind.”
There’s a moment of silence between them, both of them just looking at each
other: Hoseok watches the light dance on Yoongi’s face, the shadows of his
lashes casting themselves onto his cheeks, the way that the firelight
illuminates his lips; Yoongi takes in the way that Hoseok’s hair falls across
his forehead, the way that his lips pucker, the way that the cupid’s bow dips
into a little crescent just north of his mole.
Slowly, Yoongi inches forward, pushes Hoseok’s hair off his forehead, away from
his eyes. Hoseok blinks at him once, twice, before looping a hand around
Yoongi’s waist and pulling him toward him, slowly turning on his side until
they’re so close the tips of their noses brush against each other.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Hoseok says.
“Okay.” Yoongi says, and lets his eyelids flutter shut as Hoseok presses his
lips to his softly. Yoongi sighs into the kiss, puts his hand on the back of
Hoseok’s nape.
When they pull away, Hoseok groans, burying his face in the pillow. Was it that
bad? “Are you okay?”
“It was so good.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Well. We don’t have–you know. Supplies. And now I think I’m kind of. Turned
on. I mean–”
“–what are you talking about?”
A packet of condoms hits Hoseok in the face. The room of fucking requirement.
Yoongi plucks it off of the bed before Hoseok is able to get it. He reads the
front of the box, eyes skimming across the description before flipping it over.
His eyes widen at the diagram and he bursts out laughing.
“Hey!” Hoseok sits up, takes the condoms from him. “I mean. Okay. Sorry. I
wasn’t being assuming or anything but it crossed my mind. If the thought of
having sex with me is so repulsive, then we can just go.”
“The thought of having sex with you is not repulsive at all. And if you
assumed, you assumed right.”
“Oh. Then. Why were you laughing–”
“–you’ve never had sex with a wizard before, have you?” 
 
 
Yoongi starts slowly, casts an undressing spell so that as they kiss, as their
hands roam–his palms on Hoseok’s chest, Hoseok’s hands moving down his back,
fingers clutching at his hips–their clothes start to unbutton, unclasp, fall
away until they’re standing in a puddle of their clothing which they gladly
step out of. Yoongi kisses the skin of Hoseok’s neck, takes in the way that
Hoseok lets out small sighs, the way that his arms tighten around him. Yoongi’s
hands move south, his palm coming flush with Hoseok’s half-hard cock. He moves
slow, relishing the way that Hoseok grows in his grasp. Hoseok squeezes
Yoongi’s cheeks before reaching down to stroke him too, pulling away from
Yoongi’s avalanche of kisses to lean down and mouth at his nipples through his
shirt. When they pull away long enough from stroking skin against skin into
madness, the shirts go too, pulled up and over their heads.
Hoseok pushes Yoongi onto the bed, kissing him slowly, his tongue finding
Yoongi’s as Yoongi’s lips part to let him in. “This part, I kind of know
about.”
Yoongi pulls Hoseok down toward him until they’re shoulder to shoulder,
Yoongi’s hands lost in Hoseok’s hair. Hoseok brings his hips down slowly, their
erect cocks brushing together. Yoongi reaches for his wand, does a few
complicated flicks and tricks with the wrists, muttering under his breath.
“What’re you doing?” Hoseok is kissing his collarbone, the hollow of his
throat.
“Casting pleasure spells–I can’t believe I’m explaining this.”
“What’s a plea–” Yoongi cuts him off by curling a leg around him and pinning
him to the bed. Yoongi slowly skirts his fingertips down the thin skin of
Hoseok’s ribs. Hoseok’s hips buck involuntarily–he suddenly knows what Yoongi
had done. Every sensation is heightened, every touch, every brush of hair,
every fingernail drawn playfully against the skin. When Yoongi takes Hoseok
into his mouth, it’s almost too much: the heat, the slick slide of Yoongi’s
tongue against his shaft, the softness of his lips, and oh, the motion, the
depth at which Yoongi goes.
“Yoongi,” Hoseok says, bucking his hips. “Yoongi, Yoongi–wait–not yet–”
Yoongi lets off, grins up at him wickedly. “I put a restraint spell up too.”
“What?”
“You won’t cum until you’re balls deep in my ass, basically.”
“Oh fuck.”
With that, Yoongi bears back down on Hoseok, this time, relentlessly–he goes
fast, hard, until Hoseok is mewling under him, voice sharp in his cries for
pleasure as he thrashes from the feeling, unsure what to do with his hands, the
sensation of being just on the brink of orgasm but never quite getting there
driving him crazy.
When it’s too much, when Yoongi’s jaw starts to ache and Hoseok thinks he may
be half-mad, so throbbing with the need to be inside Yoongi, so starved of
release, Yoongi lets off of his cock, wiping saliva from the corners of his
mouth. Yoongi lies face down, ass up, nuzzling the pillow to his cheek.
Hoseok is panting, vision swimming, as he guides himself inside Yoongi. The
first thrust is unlike anything he’s ever felt before–it’s everything but
better, all the hot, wet, slide of it but turned up, like sex on fire, love on
drugs. He wants to last longer but knows that that balls-deep condition Yoongi
had set would come sooner than he wanted. He can’t stop his hips from
stuttering as he curls himself around Yoongi, hips urgent, burying himself deep
in Yoongi’s heat. Hoseok curls a hand around Yoongi’s cock, stroking him to
their rhythm, letting Yoongi fuck into his hand as he moans his name into the
pillow. Hoseok cums first, pulling out quick, not wanting to leave a mess in
Yoongi when they were so far from the bathroom. He’s expecting a mess, but
finds there is a kind of barrier between his cock and his cum, and everything
else, only spraying once his cock hit the sheets–the same spell he used for the
rain, it occurs to Hoseok, as he jerks Yoongi off into his own climax, kissing
him from the base of his spine until where the soft hair on his nape begins as
Yoongi spills onto his hand, onto the sheets.
They collapse onto the bed, exhausted, breathless. Hoseok takes Yoongi in his
arms, kissing him frantically, lips urgent to thank, hungry with want but also
frenzied from release. Yoongi rests his head on Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok plays
with Yoongi’s hair, Slytherin-green, even in the dim light.
“Thank you,” Yoongi whispers under his breath. “I just–wow.”
“You’re crazy. Thank you. That’s the best sex I have ever had, hands down. I
just. Wow.”
“I guess the feeling is mutual, then,” Yoongi says, looking up into his eyes,
his own eyes wide, asking a question he is scared to verbalize.
Hoseok plants a peck on his lips. Cute. “That’s Muggle for yes, I like you too,
Min Yoongi.”
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