Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13885689.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Kim_Namjoon_|_RM/Kim_Taehyung_|_V
  Character:
      Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Kim_Namjoon_|_RM, Bangtan_Boys_Ensemble
  Additional Tags:
      Consentacles, Tentacle_Sex, Normal_Sex_Too, Friends_With_Benefits,
      Pining, Fluff, gross_flirting, Explicit_Consent, Enthusiastic_Consent,
      Bondage, Multiple_Orgasms, Top_Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Bottom_Kim_Namjoon_|_RM,
      underage_because_taehyung_is_~17_international_age_at_the_beginning?
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-06 Words: 8917
****** powerful (with a little bit of tender) ******
by pageleaf
Summary
     The first time Namjoon touches one of Taehyung's tentacles, it's an
     accident.
Notes
     so this is nebs's fault but also kind of bt21's fault because why
     DOES tata have those weird-ass eldritch horror limbs anyway? anyway
     this is kind of absurdly soft for tentacle porn but honestly i'm
     pretty damn proud of it. it's, in many ways, a very normal fwb with
     pining fic that i just really wanted to add consentacles to. i hope
     you enjoy!
     the timeline of this is pretty hand-waved, but they start fucking
     while living in the second dorm, and i think taehyung might've
     technically been under the age of majority then (i'm not entirely
     clear on it, so i thought it would be better to be safe)
     title is from "make me feel" by janelle monae
     sidenotes: this fic owes a life-debt to both nebulia's yoonjin
     consentacles and GinForInk's namkook, the latter in particularly
     really inspiring my namjoon characterization in this fic :)
See the end of the work for more notes
The first time Namjoon touches one of Taehyung's tentacles, it's an accident.
They've got a rare slow day, made even rarer by the fact that Namjoon's
spending it in the dorm with Taehyung and Jungkook, instead of in the studio
like he usually would. Maybe it's the newness of that, or the warmth of the
sunlight, or the soft sound of Namjoon turning pages as he reads, that lulls
Taehyung into dazed comfort.
Whatever it is, when Namjoon asks, "Taehyung-ah, can you hand me my tea?"
Taehyung reaches out with his tentacle on autopilot.
He doesn't realize what he's done until Namjoon accepts the cup from the
tentacle halfway, fingers lightly brushing the tip. Taehyung jolts, spilling
half the mug in surprise.
"Sorry," he says.
Namjoon shrugs. "I guess you're allowed to be the clumsy one sometimes." His
face pulls into a unexpectedly cute, beseeching smile. "Make me another one,
please?"
Taehyung's getting up before he even realizes it, his skin still tingling a
little all over from the accidental touch. By the time he's boiled the water
and poured it over the bag, let it steep, and brought it back over to Namjoon,
his head's cleared enough for him to say, "I meant sorry for touching you with
my tentacle."
Namjoon sits up a little, a frown creasing his forehead. "Why would you be
sorry for that?"
"I thought—" Taehyung fidgets with end of one of them, watching it wrap itself
around his finger, and Namjoon doesn't seem fazed by it at all. Taehyung's been
keeping them contained this whole time because he just assumed—and Namjoon
isn't fazed at all. "I thought they would freak you out?"
"They're just you," Namjoon says slowly. "There's nothing to be freaked out
by."
"Oh," Taehyung says, and beams. "Okay."
 
The rest of the members don't care about the tentacles, either, and seem
confused and vaguely appalled that Taehyung thought they would. It wasn't
personal, he tells them; he's just had a few too many instances of teachers and
friends and cousins on his dad's side who he hasn't seen in a while brushing up
against his tentacles and rearing back in horror. He's learned to keep them
curled at his sides or under his shirt, just by default.
But if they really don't care (and they assure him they don't)...
Two days later, Taehyung snatches one of Namjoon's bags of snacks away from him
while he's distracted, and holds it far above both of their heads with one
tentacle. He doesn't even try to contain his giggles at the way Namjoon pouts,
hands on his hips in frustration.
"Taehyung," he says, an approximation of his leader voice that would be a lot
more effective if he weren't also laughing helplessly. "Be nice."
Immediately, Taehyung relents, knocking Namjoon affectionately in the forehead
with the bag before dropping it into his waiting hands. "I'll always be nice to
you, hyung," he says, smiling wide.
Namjoon blinks at him and then smiles back, soft and warm and a little sly. He
gives Taehyung a slow once-over, then ruffles his hair. "I'll be counting on
you, then," he teases, and walks out of the room.
Hmm, Taehyung thinks.
 
It doesn't take long after that for them to start fucking. Honestly, the only
reason Taehyung held back from trying before was because he wasn't sure how
Namjoon would react to the extra limbs—but Namjoon seems to not care much at
all, treating the tentacles exactly how he'd treat Taehyung's arms, which
is...refreshing.
The next time the two of them are alone, they're both hanging back while
everyone else is out because Taehyung's exhausted from extra dance practice and
Namjoon's trying to work the kinks out of a new verse. Taehyung is lying on the
floor of Namjoon and Jungkook's room looking at twitter, while Namjoon sits
cross-legged on his bed, scratching away at his notebook. They've chilled
together like this before, and Taehyung expects they'll sit together in
comfortable silence until the rest of the members come home.
After a few minutes, though, Namjoon groans, throwing his pen down. It clatters
to the floor pathetically. Taehyung lifts his head to peer at Namjoon's chin,
drooping against his chest, and the morose tilt to his mouth.
"Everything okay?" Taehyung asks hesitantly.
"No," Namjoon complains. "I can't get this one bit right, I feel like I'm just
repeating the same thing over and over."
Taehyung hums. "Maybe taking a break from it will help?"
Namjoon huffs. "But I wanted to finish it tonight," he says, a half-hearted
whine that tells Taehyung that Namjoon knows he's right. He usually tries
harder to be composed, like he thinks because he's the leader, he should have
his shit more together than the rest of them. He must be really tired.
Taehyung levers himself up onto the bed next to Namjoon, brushing their
shoulders together. Namjoon sighs and leans his head against Taehyung's, and
Taehyung flushes with warmth. His hand comes up of its own volition and cards
through Namjoon's hair, slow and soothing.
"Mm, that feels nice," Namjoon murmurs, and Taehyung hopes his resulting shiver
isn't too obvious.
He lets his fingers fall a little to scratch at the base of Namjoon's skull,
and feels Namjoon's breath stutter. One slim tentacle slips itself around
Namjoon's wrist, and Namjoon curls his finger around it in return. When
Taehyung peeks at Namjoon's face, his eyes are closed, mouth slightly parted.
Taehyung shifts his hand to Namjoon's neck and massages, working out the
tension he finds there in slow, firm presses, and Namjoon's brow furrows
briefly and he whines, low in the back of his throat.
"Taehyung," he says, voice rough, and Taehyung thinks Fuck it.
He straddles Namjoon's lap and pushes their foreheads together, soaks in the
way Namjoon shudders, his breath warm against Taehyung's cheek. "Hyung,"
Taehyung breathes. "Can I—"
"Please," Namjoon gasps immediately, and Taehyung swears and kisses him.
Namjoon's hands are hot on his hips, broad palms and thick fingers pulling
Taehyung closer as he moans into Taehyung's mouth. Taehyung swallows all of his
sounds greedily, cradling Namjoon's jaw reverently in his hands.
A few of his tentacles peek out from under his shirt, twisting and unfurling
restlessly, as Taehyung's concentration starts to slip. He exhales through his
nose and focuses until they subside; Namjoon might be okay with the tentacles
in theory, but Taehyung doubts he's really ready for them in this context.
"Hyung," he says instead, and Namjoon's eyes slit open, unfocused enough that
Taehyung does a mental fist-pump. "Can I suck you off?"
"Shit," Namjoon gasps, squeezing his eyes tight. His hips grind up into
Taehyung's once, as if by accident. "Yes, yes, Taehyung, please—"
Taehyung beams and slides off the bed to kneel in front of Namjoon. "Just
relax, okay?"
"Taehyung..." Namjoon's voice trembles a little as he touches Taehyung's face.
He looks a little bit like he can't believe this is happening—or maybe that's
just Taehyung projecting.
He smiles. "Don't worry, hyung," he says, turning his head and kissing
Namjoon's palm. "I'll take good care of you."
 
Afterward, lying warm and sated and tangled together, Namjoon sits straight
upright and says, "Oh, oh—Taehyung, where's my notebook—"
Taehyung's tentacles search under the covers until one comes back with it in
its grasp. Namjoon snatches it away gratefully, and grabs the pen from where it
lay abandoned by his hip.He writes furiously for a few minutes, lower lip
(still red and puffy from when Taehyung bit it lightly while they kissed)
sucked between his teeth in concentration.
"Figured it out?" Taehyung asks, when Namjoon finishes with an exhale. There's
arousal stirring in his gut, but he ignores it.
Namjoon grins at him, setting the notebook and pen carefully on the floor.
"Yes," he says with deep satisfaction, and before Taehyung can ask what the
problem was, Namjoon yanks him into another kiss, falling back against the
pillows.
Taehyung hums happily and follows him down.
 
He wakes up to Namjoon spooning him, warm and solid and comforting. It's still
early and he kind of wants to fall back asleep, but he also really has to
fucking pee.
He tries to slide out of bed as quietly as possible so he doesn't disturb
Namjoon, but is foiled by the arm that tightens petulantly around his middle.
Taehyung bites his lip around a smile, one tentacle tugging at the hand, and
Namjoon grumble-whines into his neck.
"Hyung," Taehyung giggles, "you've gotta let go."
"Nooo," Namjoon groans.
"I'm gonna pee in your bed!" Taehyung threatens, and with a long-suffering
sigh, Namjoon releases him.
Taehyung escapes quickly to the bathroom, still grinning. He must look stupidly
happy, because when he runs into Jungkook on the way back, playing some game on
the couch, he makes a face and says, "I hope you two had fun traumatizing me."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Taehyung says primly, because he
knows for a fact that they put all their clothing back into place long before
Jungkook came to bed. "We were just cuddling."
"Uh-huh," Jungkook says skeptically, but his eyes crinkle up. "So is this a
thing that's happening, now? You and hyung?"
"Me and hyung?" Taehyung grins. "You caught me, Jiminie and I are running off
together—"
"You know who I meant!" Jungkook laughs, throwing a pillow at Taehyung's head.
Taehyung catches it easily with two tentacles and throws it right back.
Jungkook yelps as he tries to avoid spilling his milk, and Taehyung slips away
in the chaos.
Back inside the room, Namjoon has managed to twist himself out of the covers
and spill them to the floor, his stretched out t-shirt exposing his
collarbones, loose shorts riding up to give Taehyung a glimpse of the paler
skin of his thighs. Taehyung wants to bite them.
Namjoon stirs and cracks open one eye. "Taehyung-ah," he croaks. "Come back,
I'm cold."
Taehyung grins broadly, bites his lip to try to stem the intense wave of
affection that threatens to knock him right out. Okay, that's fine. The thigh-
biting can wait. "You know, hyung," he says, climbing onto the bed, "that's
kind of what those blankets were for, before you destroyed the poor things."
"I don't need blankets," Namjoon grumbles, "I have you."
Oh, Taehyung thinks, his heart stuttering. "You've got it, leader-hyung," he
says with deliberate lightness and a little salute, and then lies on top of
Namjoon, covering his body with Taehyung's own.
He meant it as a joke, expected Namjoon to wheeze and complain and shove him
off—but instead Namjoon sighs and goes boneless under Taehyung's weight.
Taehyung smiles and buries his face in the crook of Namjoon's neck and settles
in; they've still got some time to sleep.
 
Namjoon tries to thank him when he wakes up fully, but Taehyung pulls
exaggerated faces at him until he stops, laughing. Taehyung doesn't know how to
explain to him that making Namjoon feel good is one of the best, most
fulfilling things he can imagine, so instead he nuzzles up against Namjoon's
face and kisses his temple light enough that Namjoon can choose to ignore it if
he wants.
He doesn't—turns his face to catch Taehyung's mouth with his own smile, palms
warm against his cheeks.
 
A week later, Namjoon pulls Taehyung into the studio. His shoulders are tight,
up around his ears, as he confesses, "I can't get this part right, will you
listen to it, please?"
Taehyung nods eagerly, because he's Namjoon's biggest fan, no matter what
Jungkookie says, and he's not going to pass this opportunity up.
Namjoon sits him down inside the tiny recording booth, outside sounds cutting
off when he closes the door. "Be honest," he says. "Even if you hate it."
"Hyung," Taehyung scoffs, "as if," and Namjoon face relaxes briefly into a
startled smile.
The mic isn't on, but Namjoon raps into it out of habit, eyes closed and brow
furrowed, the instrumental track playing from his tinny phone speakers. When
he's done, he peeks at Taehyung almost shyly.
Taehyung realizes he's been sitting with his mouth parted, tentacles wrapping
around his arms and twisting in on each other in excitement. "Hyung," he
breathes, "that was so good."
Namjoon smiles brighter, eyes crinkling. "Thank you," he says. "There's
something not quite right, though, and I'm not sure—"
"Maybe—" Taehyung begins, and then chews his lip thoughtfully. Namjoon glances
at him, expectant and hopeful. "Maybe that first part could be a little bit
lower? Your voice sounds really nice in that range." He feels his face heat a
little. "Really, really nice."
Namjoon makes a tiny, embarrassed noise, and Taehyung has to fight the urge to
kiss him breathless. "That could work," Namjoon says quietly. "Let—let me try
it again."
 
That night, Namjoon messages Taehyung, can you come here? and when Taehyung
pushes open the door to his and Jungkook's room, he sees Namjoon sitting cross-
legged on his bed, fidgeting with his phone.
"I sent the track to PD-nim," he says by way of greeting.
"Ah," Taehyung says, understanding.
"I know I can't do anything about it until I get his feedback tomorrow, but—"
Namjoon makes a wordless noise of frustration.
Taehyung closes the door, and doesn't miss the way Namjoon jolts not-quite-
nervously at the quiet click. He glances to the side, sees Jungkook's bed
covered in a pile of laundry, knows he's not coming back to this room tonight.
Anticipation quickens his heart rate, but he keeps a straight face. "Can't stop
worrying about it, huh?"
Namjoon swallows. "Yeah," he says, voice a shade more hoarse than before.
Taehyung sits down next to him on the bed, and Namjoon's tongue comes out wet
his lips.
He shudders slightly when Taehyung says, voice low, "Want me to distract you?"
"Please," Namjoon begs, reaching out for Taehyung already like he's just been
waiting, greedy and desperate, without saying anything, and Taehyung has to
reward patience like that, doesn't he?
He turns Namjoon over onto his stomach and fingers him until he's sobbing,
makes him come twice like that until the only part of him that's tense is his
fingers white-knuckling his pillowcase like it's the only thing keeping him
from dissolving, Taehyung's mouth warm and gentle between his shoulderblades
the whole time.
 
They don't really end up talking about it, which is okay. Taehyung kind of
hoped they would, but he didn't expect it. He knows Namjoon can be shy
sometimes. And besides, if this isn't anything more than just one more way for
them to take care of each other, why would they talk about it?
It doesn't stop happening, though, and eventually they move to a new dorm,
Taehyung taking Jungkook's place as Namjoon's roommate when Jungkook wins the
rights to the single room. Taehyung fights for the room like the rest of them
because it would be suspicious not to, and he's not sure if Namjoon wants
everyone to know; when he loses, though, he catches Namjoon's eye and smiles at
the way Namjoon slowly reddens.
At first, they don't do anything, busy with moving and practice and trying to
settle into a new space yet again. Namjoon is rarely home, busier than ever,
mixtape promotions and producing songs and helping Yoongi in the studio in his
spare time. Taehyung spends extra hours with Jimin and Jungkook and Hoseok in
the studio, perfecting his movements until they come out sharp and fluid.
He's started to learn to work with his tentacles while dancing, instead of
trying to pretend they're not there. It helps that the choreography works with
them too, now. Where he used to have to waste concentration and effort on
keeping them hidden and still while he moved, now he can let them unfurl as he
turns, curl upward when he drops to his knees, twist in the air when rolls his
hips.
"Looking good, V-ssi," Hoseok teases at the end of practice one day, but his
voice is warm and sincerely impressed. "You're doing really well these days."
Taehyung beams. "Thanks, Hobi-hyung!"
Hoseok smirks and tousles his hair affectionately. "You should show some of
those new moves to Namjoonie," he says suggestively, and Taehyung splutters.
"What—" He averts his eyes to see Jimin and Jungkook both giggling at him from
the corner. "I don't...know what you're talking about?" he attempts half-
heartedly, and huffs when all three of them burst into raucous laughter.
"Taehyung," Jimin finally gets out through his gasps, "you're both really
terrible at hiding things."
"Really, really terrible," Jungkook confirms. "I didn't even tell any of them,
they all just figured it out."
"Everyone knows?" Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut when Jimin nods. He doesn't
mind, but he hopes Namjoon doesn't get too upset.
He feels Hoseok's hand on his shoulder a second later, opening his eyes to see
his hyung looking back at him with concern. "Taehyung-ah," he says seriously.
"Namjoon knows we know. He's not worried about it."
Taehyung blinks, the uneasy twist of his stomach subsiding. "Oh," he says, hope
coloring his tone. "Really?"
"Really," Hoseok says. "Literally a day ago I had to deal with him telling me
all about how much he misses kissing you—"
"Noooo," Taehyung whines, sitting right down on the floor and covering his
rapidly heating face. He can hear Jungkook's ridiculous laugh behind him.
"You're falling down on the job, Taehyung!" Jimin cries with mock-reproval,
smacking Taehyung on the shoulder. Taehyung groans and keels over onto his
back.
Hoseok nods. "And now the rest of us poor, innocent souls have to deal with his
horny ass. Please put us out of our misery, Taehyung-ah, I'm begging you."
"I hate all of you so much," Taehyung says with feeling, and chucks his gross
sweaty shoe at Jungkook's chest when he laughs so hard he falls over.
 
But they're not wrong: maybe Taehyung has been falling down on the job.
Namjoon's busy all the time, which means he's undoubtedly stressed all the
time, and keeping Namjoon happy and relaxed has always been Taehyung's favorite
job. They haven't so much as cuddled in almost a month! Now that Taehyung
thinks about it like that, he feels ready to combust from frustrated longing.
He can't imagine how tense Namjoon must be.
So the next time he hears Namjoon stir in his bed, squirming and fidgeting and
exhaling in frustration, Taehyung sets his phone down carefully and says,
"Can't sleep, hyung?"
Namjoon groans quietly into his pillow. "Ugh, yes. Thinking too much."
"About a song?" Taehyung asks curiously.
"No," Namjoon sighs, rolling onto his back and frowning at the ceiling.
"Nothing that productive, unfortunately." Taehyung makes a questioning noise,
and Namjoon elaborates, "I'm just worried about too many things.
Just—everything all at once."
Taehyung slides out of bed and across the room to Namjoon's. Namjoon watches
with dark eyes as Taehyung peels back the blankets and takes their place on top
of him, straddling Namjoon's hips. "Too loud in your brain, hyung?"
Namjoon nods wordlessly.
"What do you want?" Taehyung asks, leaning in close. Namjoon turns so his nose
brushes Taehyung's cheek, and a moment later his hand slides up the back of
Taehyung's shirt, stroking over his skin. His fingers are clever and light, and
when he brushes up against the base of one of Taehyung's tentacles—
Taehyung gasps, control slipping a little. The tentacle curls around Namjoon's
hand, circling around his wrist, twisting playfully between his fingers.
"Sorry," Taehyung says breathlessly, trying to rein his overexcited limbs back
in; even his hands, which frankly he should have better control over, are just
a shade too tight around Namjoon's waist. "Sorry, sorry, just give me a
second—"
"Hey," Namjoon says, "hey, Taehyung, look at me." There's no discomfort on his
face when Taehyung meets his eyes, nothing even resembling anger or disgust.
Taehyung knew on some level that there wouldn't be, but he wasn't. He wasn't
sure.
"You don't mind?" he asks hesitantly.
Namjoon shakes his head, first in answer to the question and then in what looks
like disbelief. "I'm really into you, Kim Taehyung," he says fondly. "I don't
know how you've missed how into you I am."
Taehyung ducks his head to hide his blush, peeking back up at Namjoon from
under his eyelashes. It isn't the first time Namjoon's complimented him. And
god knows Taehyung's said far, far more flowery things, but Taehyung...Taehyung
is in love with Namjoon, so he's allowed.
His heart is pounding, suddenly, and his head is clamoring with a million
questions, but Taehyung tells himself focus, and allows just one. "Even the—"
"Even the tentacles," Namjoon says with a smile. "They're just another part of
you. And," he adds, grinning just a little sly, "I'll admit I have some
scientific curiosity about how they work."
Heat flares at the base of Taehyung's spine at that. Really, he thinks, and
files that away for later.
Namjoon grinds up against Taehyung, needy and demanding, so different from the
first time they did this. "Taehyung," he whines.
Taehyung flexes his hands against Namjoon's waist. "Too tight?" he asks, voice
low enough he can feel his throat buzz with it.
"Hmm?" Namjoon asks, smirking, challenging. "Oh, that? I can barely feel it,
are you sure you're—oh."
Taehyung laughs against Namjoon's shoulder, nipping at his throat as he spreads
Namjoon's thighs wide, grip tight enough to bruise. "You didn't tell me what
you want," he says. "Does that mean I get to pick?"
"Yes," Namjoon says immediately, and Taehyung laughs again at how easily he
gives up any pretense of a fight. "Tell me, please, Taehyung—"
"I think I'll surprise you," Taehyung decides, and tugs Namjoon's lower lip
between his teeth just to hear him whine.
"Okay," Namjoon agrees, sounding dazed and breathless already.
He stays still, loose-limbed and heavy-lidded, as Taehyung pulls the hem of his
shirt up far enough to expose his the cut of his hips, the planes of his
stomach. Taehyung pushes the shirt up over Namjoon's pecs and leaves it there
while he twists Namjoon's nipples between his thumb and forefinger, drinking in
the way Namjoon arches and gasps.
"Keep your shirt there, okay hyung?" Taehyung smiles and slides down the bed
until he can get his mouth on Namjoon's chest, sucking a bruise under the faint
swell of his pecs. He plays with Namjoon's nipples with one hand while he
explores, and marvels at the way Namjoon squirms when Taehyung scrapes his
nails over his ribs.
"Fuck," Namjoon pants, breath stutter-stop-starting over and over as Taehyung
works his way down Namjoon's body, leaving marks he knows the other members are
going to ruthlessly mock them for. He doesn't care; he kind of likes it, and
he's starting to think Namjoon might too, if his low, wrecked moans mean
anything. "Oh fuck, Taehyung, please."
He tenses when Taehyung pulls off his boxers and kisses the crease of his
thigh, like he thinks Taehyung might suck him off. His eyes go wide when
Taehyung bypasses his dick completely, pushing Namjoon's legs higher and wider
instead. Cute, Taehyung coos internally.
"Taehyung," Namjoon breathes, "what are you..."
It doesn't sound like a no, but Taehyung still asks, "Hyung, can I eat you
out?"
Namjoon makes a noise like it's been punched out of him, sharp and wanting.
Instead of answering outright, he grips his own thighs and holds them to his
chest and out of the way.
Taehyung beams, spreads Namjoon's ass with his palms, and bends his head to
lick him open.
 
It only takes a minute for Namjoon to start begging, low and broken-voiced. His
legs slip down until his thighs cradle Taehyung's face, his hands tangling in
Taehyung's hair. Taehyung could easily lift both legs and hands back out of the
way with his tentacles, but this kind of interference he absolutely does not
mind.
He does start to worry, though, when he slips two lubed fingers in with his
tongue and Namjoon's whimpers slowly start to pitch higher and louder. Taehyung
doesn't actually want to piss off everyone else in the dorm, so he pulls back
and regretfully says, "Hyung, you've gotta be quieter."
"Nnnn," Namjoon says incoherently, tipping his head back to expose the long
column of his throat. Not fair, Taehyung thinks plaintively.
"Hyu-uuung," he prods insistently, fucking his fingers in a little rougher to
get Namjoon's attention.
It backfires: Namjoon jerks and moans, loud and unabashed.
"Shit," Taehyung says, awed. "Hyung, you're really beautiful, but I really need
you to shut up."
He tentatively extends one tentacle up the length of Namjoon's body and brushes
against Namjoon's lips. Namjoon shivers and opens his eyes, shiny and
unfocused. "Wh—"
Taehyung slips the tip inside Namjoon's mouth, ready to pull out in a moment if
Namjoon reacts badly.
He shouldn't have worried—Namjoon moans again, low in the back of his throat,
and sucks, his hand clenching convulsively in Taehyung's hair. He's still
making obscene noises with every shift of Taehyung's fingers inside of him, but
they're muffled enough that Taehyung no longer expects Hoseok to chew him out
in the morning.
Still, he teases, "You're so loud, hyung," just to see the way Namjoon flushes,
lifting one hand from the back of Taehyung's head to cover his own face, and
oh, that's no good.
Taehyung tugs the hand away from Namjoon's face with a free tentacle, and
Namjoon squirms, caught. Carefully, Taehyung lets go of his hand, but Namjoon
leaves it lying limp against the pillow, fingers curled loosely and twitching
with every shaky inhale. He's so hot and open when Taehyung pulls out and rubs
his thumb over his entrance, and Taehyung thinks he might die if he doesn't get
inside Namjoon soon.
He sends a tentacle to pluck a condom from inside the bedside drawer, and rolls
it on himself with fingers that tremble from want. It doesn't help that Namjoon
keeps looking at him with those dark eyes, almost closed and shimmering with
pleasure, plush red mouth working around Taehyung's tentacle still. They've
never been very sensitive, maybe slightly more than his hands, but Taehyung
still has to work hard to compartmentalize that sensation away because
otherwise he's going to come in two seconds flat.
As it is, the noise Namjoon makes when Taehyung enters him almost does him in
anyway, a high choked whine that makes Taehyung's gut clench tight. "Fuck,
fuck," Taehyung hisses. He's barely holding onto his control by the skin of his
teeth, and Namjoon's—
Namjoon's gone, hips bucking up and trying to force himself all the way onto
Taehyung's dick, incoherent pleas spilling from his mouth around the tentacle.
Maybe Hoseok will have to kick their asses after all, but god, Taehyung could
not give less of a shit. Arousal sears him from the inside out, and he grits
his teeth from the force of it, gripping Namjoon's hips like a lifeline.
His vision is starting to dim a little, and Namjoon won't stop moaning.
Taehyung pulls the tentacle out, and Namjoon makes a forlorn noise, mouth open
and wanting. "Can I move, hyung, can I—" He shakes his head to clear it, sweat
flying from his bangs. "I don't know if I can be careful," he warns.
"Kim Taehyung," Namjoon gasps, surprisingly sharp and lucid with how fucked out
he looks, "if you don't fuck me right now—"
"Okay, okay," Taehyung laughs helplessly, shoving all the way in.
Namjoon clenches painfully tight around him, mouth dropping open on a silent
shout. Taehyung pulls out and slams back in, then repeats the motion when it
makes Namjoon claw at his shoulders. "Taehyung," he pants, "I'm gonna—Taehyung,
please touch me, I—"
Taehyung kisses him quiet, reaching down to wrap his hand around Namjoon's dick
for the first time of the night. Namjoon's so wet that there's almost no
friction, but it only takes two pumps of Taehyung's fist before he's spilling
hot over his fingers. He trembles through it, shakes so hard he forgets how to
kiss Taehyung back and just cries out ah, ah softly against Taehyung's mouth,
digging his nails into Taehyung's back.
He goes completely limp afterward, eyes closed and mouth slack, letting the
force of Taehyung's thrusts rock him against the mattress without complaint.
When Taehyung comes, Namjoon hums happily and presses sloppy kisses to his
neck, and he whines when Taehyung gets off the bed. "Taehyung-ah, where are you
going?"
"Gotta clean up," Taehyung soothes, unable to stop himself from kissing
Namjoon, cradling his jaw in a gentle hand. "I'll be right back, hyung,
promise."
"I'll miss you," Namjoon says nonsensically when Taehyung pulls away, and it
strikes sharp and sweet right between Taehyung's ribs.
He cleans up in the bathroom, tosses the tied-off condom and washes Namjoon's
come off his hand. After a brief hesitation, he runs his tentacle, the one
still damp from Namjoon's mouth, under the tap. He thinks about sound of
Namjoon moaning around it. He thinks about the greedy heat of Namjoon's ass
around his dick. He thinks about the way Namjoon let Taehyung do whatever he
wanted to him.
Taehyung goes back to their room and wipes an unconscious Namjoon down with a
dampened washcloth, then slides behind him on the bed and closes his eyes. As
he falls asleep, he thinks about the way Namjoon said I'm really into you, Kim
Taehyung, and hopes.
 
The day after that one illuminating practice, Jimin cornered Taehyung in the
dorm while Namjoon was showering and said, "You're being careful, right?"
"We're using protection, if that's what you mean," Taehyung teased, and Jimin
smacked him on the arm.
"You know it isn't," he said, uncharacteristically serious.
Taehyung's next thought was that he meant the tentacles and he frowned, said
with a little edge of indignation, "I'm not going to hurt him—" Jimin smacked
him again, and Taehyung whined, "Ow, what do you want from me?"
"I'm worried about you, dumbass!" Jimin snapped, and Taehyung's heart sank.
"I'm worried he'll hurt you without even knowing."
"I've been that obvious, huh?" Taehyung sighed, mouth twisting into an almost-
smile. He ruffled Jimin's hair, skittering away when Jimin tried to slap his
wrist. "Don't worry about me, Chim-chim," he said. "I know what I'm doing."
Jimin frowned, unconvinced, but Taehyung poked his cheeks with the tip of his
tentacle until the frown disappeared into laugh lines. "Stop that, you—" He
tackled Taehyung to the ground and tickled him while Taehyung flailed
ineffectually, the conversation forgotten behind them.
It's the first thing Taehyung thinks of when he slips from dream into
consciousness. He can feel Namjoon next to him without even looking, and he
squeezes his eyes shut against the sweet ache behind his ribs. The bed feels
warm and comfortable and safe, and Taehyung thinks, sudden and sharp, I could
stay here forever.
Namjoon exhales in his sleep, and Taehyung resists the urge to cuddle even
closer for fear that he'll wake him up. Instead, he tries to memorize the
feeling of Namjoon warm and pliant against him, legs tangled in Taehyung's,
arms caught in—
Oh, damn it.
Eyes still closed with mortification (he's supposed to have more control than
this) Taehyung tries to find a way to quietly extricate his tentacles from
around Namjoon's body, but it's a lost cause. Where until now Taehyung's only
let out one or two tentacles at time, now all of them—large primaries and
countless little tendrils that surround them—have emerged in his sleep to
capture Namjoon inside them like a very cute bug in a very loving spiderweb.
There's no way to move them all without waking Namjoon up.
Reluctant but resigned, Taehyung tightens a few tendrils around Namjoon's
wrist, hoping to gently shake him awake.
Namjoon makes a noise.
Taehyung frowns. He does it again, and this time it's louder and crystal clear:
a tiny closed-mouth whimper. Taehyung thought Namjoon was asleep because of how
quiet he was, but now that he's paying closer attention he can see how
unnatural the silence was, no deep breaths or soft snores, and how painfully
still Namjoon is holding himself.
Concerned, Taehyung opens his eyes finally and finds himself with a direct view
of the back of Namjoon's neck and ears, red with—oh.
Experimentally, biting his lip, Taehyung shifts as if he's still asleep, all
the tentacles shifting fluidly with him, rocking Namjoon slightly in their
grasp.
Namjoon squirms, breath quickening audibly. He arches minutely back against
Taehyung, whose eyes widen as understanding hits him.
He smirks, his earlier melancholy forgotten in the rush of arousal that floods
his body. He cinches the tentacle pinning Namjoon's arms to his sides a little
tighter, rocks his hips against Namjoon's ass, and says, "'Scientific
curiosity', huh?"
There's a telling pause, and then Namjoon releases a shuddering breath and
hides his face in his pillow, groaning, "Shut up."
Taehyung grins.
"Mm," he hums consideringly, "I don't think I will! I think you deserve a
little payback for waking me up the way you did, hyung." Nevermind that he was
already awake—he doubts Namjoon will fact-check him right now.
Surely enough, Namjoon's laugh is weak and unconvincing when he says, "You're
ridiculous."
"You like it," Taehyung sings gleefully, rubbing his palm pointedly over
Namjoon's half-hard dick.
"Ah—" Namjoon's little cut-off moan makes Taehyung swallow hard, tendrils
compulsively stroking over every part of Namjoon's skin they can reach. Namjoon
shivers, and when Taehyung goes up on one elbow to look at him, he sees
Namjoon's eyes flutter like he can't quite manage to keep them open.
Taehyung sucks in a loud breath. "Wow," he exhales, "look at that blush."
Namjoon jerks again in Taehyung's grip, arms tensing like he wants to cover his
face. "Taehyung," he whines, "please."
"Please what?" Taehyung prompts, because he knows, but he likes to hear Namjoon
ask for it.
"Stop teasing," Namjoon groans.
"Hmmm, I don't think that's what you were going to ask," Taehyung says lightly.
He lets one of the tentacles around Namjoon's hips slither down around his
thigh, sliding between his legs.
Namjoon jerks. "Fuck—" His hips roll forward against the pressure the tentacle
puts on the base of his dick through his boxers, riding back against where it
rubs against his ass. He's so hot all over—Taehyung can see the sweat beading
at his temples, can feel it against his tentacles in the crease of Namjoon's
elbows and knees where Taehyung has him restrained.
He pulls back his hand and tentacle from Namjoon's groin and waits for Namjoon
to fall apart.
"Fuck, Taehyung," Namjoon cries out, too desperate to be frustrated. He grinds
back against Taehyung's dick with a cut-off moan, trying for some friction
wherever he can get it. "Taehyung, please, just do something—"
There's a loud, distant crash, and they both freeze. Everyone else must be
awake by now—what time even is it?
Namjoon lets out a shuddering breath. "Fuck."
Taehyung slowly extracts one of his tentacles and retrieves his phone from the
nightstand. It's not quite ten, and he has about twenty texts from the group
chat. Namjoon closes his eyes and catches his breath, but doesn't move.
The messages are all variations on the same thing: Hoseok's irritation at being
woken up by them multiple times, Jimin's smirking congratulations, Jungkook's
confusion because he slept through it all, Yoongi's dry are you two coming out
from breakfast or not,Seokjin's ungrateful brats, see if i ever cook for you
again. Taehyung snorts.
"Do we have to get up?" Namjoon asks, voice uncharacteristically small.
Taehyung reads over his own response of save us a plate and don't come into our
room for at least an hour and sends it off. "Nope," he replies, tossing his
phone haphazardly onto the floor before extending the tentacle to the door to
lock it.
Namjoon watches with wide eyes. "I didn't know they were that long," he says.
"They aren't always," Taehyung shrugs. "I can sort of...make them longer?"
"Like stretching them?"
"Kind of?" Taehyung considers it, then adds, "but they don't get thinner, just.
Longer. I don't know, it's hard to explain."
Namjoon's eyes glint with real curiosity—so maybe that wasn't entirely a front.
"That's really fucking cool," he says, and then, "Can you—"
"Hyung," Taehyung pouts, grinding his dick pointedly against Namjoon's ass.
Namjoon's mouth closes with a click. "Oh," he says.
"Unless," Taehyung says, second-guessing, "you didn't want—or you don't want to
anymore?"
"No, I—" Namjoon's voice cracks. "I want to. I really, really want to."
Taehyung bites his lip. "How long have you..."
Namjoon fidgets, looking a little sheepish. "I don't know," he says quietly.
"Maybe always? Since we started sleeping together at least."
"Since—" The sharp twist of shocked arousal that elicits makes Taehyung's hands
flex against Namjoon's sharp hips. "Why didn't you say something."
"I thought—" Namjoon makes a frustrated noise. "I don't know, I thought you
didn't want to. You were so worried at first about us thinking they were weird,
I didn't want to make you feel like I was—like, fetishizing you or—something,"
he finishes haltingly.
Taehyung drops his head against Namjoon's shoulder. "Namjoonie-hyung," he
groans, "that's really sweet but really, really stupid."
Namjoon huffs but doesn't argue.
He twists in Taehyung's grasp and Taehyung tightens it unconsciously before his
brain clears enough for him to ask, "Do you want me to let you go?”
"No," Namjoon says emphatically. He seems less embarrassed now, or maybe just
more confident now that he's reassuring Taehyung. "I just wanted to look at
you."
"Oh," Taehyung says, and smiles. He flips Namjoon over onto his back
effortlessly, and grins when Namjoon's eyes darken further.
"I might keep doing that," Namjoon says quickly, like a confession. "Just—just
to feel you. If I don't like something, I'll let you know."
"What if you can't talk?" Taehyung asks, thinking of how much he wants to see
Namjoon's lips wrapped around his tentacle again.
Namjoon exhales shakily. "Good point," he laughs, though there's an edge to it
that Taehyung likes very much. "I guess I'll—um, I'll pinch you, wherever I can
reach."
Taehyung nods. "That works." He hesitates, hovering over that line but for some
reason still unable to cross it. "You really want me to?"
"Taehyung-ah," Namjoon says hoarsely. "I swear to god if you don't fuck me—"
Taehyung swears breathlessly and wraps Namjoon up in all his limbs, pulling him
closer. "I will," he promises, hands and slim tendrils skittering over
Namjoon's body reverently because he can't decide where he wants to touch
first. "I'm going to," Taehyung repeats, voice pitching lower as Namjoon's
shirt is lifted up and out of the way and Taehyung can get his hands on bare
skin. "I'm gonna fuck you," he's talking almost mindlessly now, murmuring into
Namjoon's ear to make him shiver while his mind races and thinks of all the
ways he can take Namjoon apart. "Gonna fuck you the way you deserve, hyung,
gonna take such good care of you—"
Namjoon whimpers, back arching off the bed. "Please," he begs, thighs falling
apart around Taehyung's hips and drawing him closer. Taehyung wraps a helpful
tentacle around each leg, just to keep them there, and Namjoon's breath
hitches.
"Hey, hyung," Taehyung says, an idea occurring to him. "How attached are you to
these shorts?"
"I—what?" Namjoon shakes his head to clear it, blinking up at Taehyung. "I've
had them a couple years so, not that attached, I guess?"
Taehyung grins wickedly as he tucks two tentacles into the waistband of the
boxers, one near each hip. "Good," he says, and rips the boxers in two.
Namjoon jolts and swears, color blooming on his cheeks. Oh, he liked that,
Taehyung thinks giddily, and bursts into giggles at the shocked, dazed look on
Namjoon's face.
"You've been holding out on me," Namjoon accuses, even as he rocks his hips
needily upward, hard dick grinding up against Taehyung's still-clothed one.
Taehyung shrugs one shoulder. "Guilty."
Namjoon seems to forgive him pretty easily, stroking his fingers over whatever
part of tentacles he can reach, something akin to awe settling in his eyes when
the nearby tendrils tickle him back affectionately. "How strong are they?" he
asks.
"I don't know," Taehyung says honestly. "I'm a little out of shape, but..." He
hums, considering. "Strong enough to lift you, for sure."
"...damn," Namjoon mutters.
Taehyung raises his eyebrows, stifling a grin. "Do you want me to pick you up,
hyung?"
Namjoon narrows his eyes suspiciously. "I feel like I'm being made fun of."
Taehyung stops stifling it, and beams at him. "I would never," he says, and
wraps his tentacles more firmly around Namjoon's waist and ribs before tugging
him forward and up into Taehyung's lap. Namjoon pulls against the tentacles,
but they hold firm. "I've got you," Taehyung reassures. "I won't let you fall."
"God," Namjoon says under his breath, eyes falling shut. "God." He opens them.
"Taehyung-ah," he says intently. "Get the lube."
"Yes sir," Taehyung laughs, and retrieves it from the foot of the bed, where it
ended up the night before. He bets Namjoon won't need much prep after how
Taehyung fucked him then—but, he muses, slicking up his hand, better safe than
sorry.
He starts with two right away, and Namjoon moans, eyes fluttering closed again.
His arms twitch in their bind like he's going to put them around Taehyung's
shoulders like he usually does, looking for balance to grind down against
Taehyung's fingers. Too bad, Taehyung thinks gleefully. He knows Namjoon has no
leverage like this; he'll just have to take whatever Taehyung wants to give
him.
Luckily for him though, Taehyung wants to give him everything.
Taehyung's tentacles range in size from thin, hairlike threads to long, tapered
coils as thick as his forearm. Taehyung picks one that's a little thicker than
his middle finger and slips it beside his fingers into Namjoon's hole.
Namjoon gasps. "Oh."
"Feels good?" Taehyung checks.
"Feels—weird," Namjoon says, but he's nodding, "yeah, yeah it feels good,
keep—keep going."
Taehyung kisses his cheek and obeys, stretching Namjoon open. He replaces his
fingers with a couple more similarly-sized tentacles, and Namjoon lets out a
choked whimper, falling forward against Taehyung's chest. "Hyung," Taehyung
coos, "you're so pretty like this."
Namjoon drops his head to Taehyung's shoulder and groans, sounding overwhelmed
already. His dick is so hard, so wet and flushed against his stomach, and
they've barely gotten started. "More," he croaks.
The fourth tentacle is a slightly tighter fit, but the lube makes the slide
easy, and from the way Namjoon moans, Taehyung doesn't think he's feeling any
discomfort.
Carefully, he rearranges Namjoon's limbs so that he can reach Taehyung's bicep.
"Pinch me if you need," he reminds Namjoon. He waits until Namjoon shivers with
understanding and nods, and then lightly traces over Namjoon's parted mouth
with a tentacle.
Namjoon opens his mouth eagerly for it, muffled moans leaking out around the
tentacle as Taehyung keeps fucking him. His face is so flushed, and Taehyung
watches, riveted, as it travels down his neck and chest.
"Pretty," Taehyung says again, and distantly, behind the lust and intense
affection, feels a dim sort of panic about how visible his heart must be in his
eyes right now.
Namjoon whines and tries to hide his face in Taehyung's neck, but Taehyung tugs
him back gently by the hair, then shifts his hand to cup the back of Namjoon's
neck. He strokes soothingly over Namjoon's pulse, and Namjoon goes gratifyingly
pliant, limbs soft and lax in Taehyung's hold.
"I'm gonna fuck you now," Taehyung says in a low voice, and Namjoon just
shudders and nods. His eyes stay closed, and his brow barely furrows when
Taehyung pulls the little tentacles out—he's in deep. Taehyung quickly
positions the blunter head of one of the biggest tentacles (not his thickest,
but thick enough) at Namjoon's entrance, and waits.
The furrow in Namjoon's brow deepens, his face somehow conveying a pout even
with his lips stretched around the tentacle. Taehyung bites his lip around a
grin, and after a moment, Namjoon makes a frustrated noise and tries to force
himself down onto Taehyung's tentacle.
Taehyung tsks and holds Namjoon firmly still, stroking teasingly over his
entrance with the tentacle tip. Namjoon stiffens up with indignation, eyes
flying open to glare at Taehyung.
"Do you want something?" Taehyung teases, and Namjoon huffs and jerks at the
tentacles around his wrists, thighs straining against the ones there too.
Taehyung's grin widens as he coils them even more firmly around Namjoon,
pinning him so thoroughly he can't even squirm, not down onto the tentacle or
forward to get some friction on his dick. He's completely at Taehyung's mercy,
and Taehyung knows, now that he's had a chance to put all the pieces together,
that that's exactly how Namjoon wants it.
Namjoon's breaths quicken the more he tries to move, the more he realizes he
can't. His eyes go wide and wet and pleading, fingers clenching and unclenching
desperately in the air. But he's still hasn't pinched Taehyung, and he's harder
than ever, so Taehyung doesn't let up. He brushes his fingers over Namjoon's
dick, maddeningly light, wetting his fingers in the precome that spills from
the head.
The noise Namjoon makes at that makes Taehyung break out in goosebumps. He does
it again, and Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut and trembles. He does it a third
time and briefly presses his thumb into the slit, and—
Namjoon's whole body seizes as he comes with a sharp cry. Taehyung pulls the
tentacle out of Namjoon's mouth so he can breathe and the moans spill out after
it, loud and almost wounded as he tries to curl in on himself.
Taehyung leans up to kiss him, can't stop himself, pressing his mouth, clumsy
with adoration, to Namjoon's jaw, his cheek, his temple. Namjoon turns his head
and catches Taehyung's mouth with his own, and Taehyung whimpers, his own
untouched dick aching in his sweatpants.
"Come on," Namjoon pleads into the kiss. "Don't leave me like this, Taehyung,
come on, please—"
"Fuck," Taehyung breathes, and caves.
The tentacle goes in deceptively easy for how thick Taehyung knows it is. But
Namjoon takes it so well, his back arching as he throws his head back and
gasps. Taehyung relaxes the bind on his legs, and Namjoon's knees slip farther
apart on the bed, making him sink down onto Taehyung's tentacle, just a little
bit deeper than Taehyung's dick would reach into him.
"Taehyung," Namjoon says, with something like wonder in his voice.
"Yeah," Taehyung replies softly. "Yeah, hyung, I've got you."
He fucks Namjoon slowly and thoroughly, stroking over his prostate on every
thrust, flexible and unrelenting in a way that a dick could never be. Namjoon
noses at the side of Taehyung's face until Taehyung kisses him again, both of
them gone wordless with pleasure. Taehyung thinks about taking his dick out of
his sweatpants but honestly, he doesn't think it'll matter, not with the way
Namjoon's rubbing against him, twitching with oversensitivity but still eager
for more.
Taehyung's so lost in Namjoon's reactions that he startles, jolting hard, when
he feels a weak pinch on his forearm.
"Don't stop," Namjoon says, cutting off Taehyung's panic before it can form.
"Just—let my arms go? I want to touch you."
"Oh," Taehyung says numbly. "I—yeah, of course," and untangles his tentacles
from Namjoon's arms, struggling with a couple of them when, stupid and
lovelorn, they don't want to let go. He tries to soothe them by settling his
hands on Namjoon's hips, stroking over the warm skin there with his fingertips.
Namjoon sighs and rolls his shoulders, before looping one arm around Taehyung's
neck to drag him into a languid, open-mouthed kiss. The other hand goes down to
free Taehyung's dick from his pants, jerking him and Namjoon off together in
one grip. Namjoon makes them both come like that, first Taehyung and then
Namjoon a moment later, both of them clinging to each other like they'll drown
otherwise.
Or maybe that's just Taehyung projecting.
After a few minutes, he pulls his tentacle reluctantly out from inside Namjoon,
soothing him with a kiss when he flinches. "We should shower."
Namjoon groans, collapsing against Taehyung's chest. Taehyung frees him from
all tentacles except the one looped around his waist, keeping him upright, but
Namjoon doesn't move.
"Hyuuuung," Taehyung whines, poking Namjoon's cheek, "shower time, we're all
gross."
"I want to sleep," Namjoon complains.
"Don't you want breakfast?" Taehyung asks, and laughs out loud when Namjoon's
stomach growls noisily in reply. "Shower first, come on, hyung."
Namjoon makes a face. "I don't know if my legs will work."
Taehyung pushes down the little thrill of possessive satisfaction he feels at
that, and grins. "Well, that's easy enough to solve."
 
"I can't believe you," Namjoon says for the tenth time, wheezing with laughter
as Taehyung kicks the bathroom door shut behind him, still cradling Namjoon in
a mix of arms and tentacles and tendrils, interwoven like a hammock.
"What!" Taehyung grins back, setting Namjoon carefully down on the floor before
turning the shower on. "It's not like anyone saw!"
Namjoon smacks Taehyung's shoulder. "They could've!" He stumbles slightly, and
Taehyung steadies him. "Damn," Namjoon whistles, "you really did a number on
me, huh?"
But Taehyung's learned over the years to recognize the layers to Namjoon's
words, and he knows arousal when he hears it. He smirks. "You asked for it."
He isn't expecting the soft, almost shy smile that graces Namjoon's face. "I
did."
Taehyung's heart squeezes. "Come on, hyung, the water should be warm by now."
He coaxes Namjoon's stiff legs into the tiled shower and under the spray, and
Namjoon sighs in pleasure, tipping his head back to let the water wash the
dried sweat and tears off his face. "Good choice, Taetae," Namjoon murmurs,
swaying forward into Taehyung's chest. He's sleepy and pliant against Taehyung,
skin warm and slick from the steam. Taehyung loves how he gets like this after
being fucked well, sweet and soft and a little nonsensical. "Showers are nice."
"Can I wash your hair?" Taehyung asks, throat tight with affection.
"Mm," Namjoon says, closing his eyes obediently and leaning a little more
heavily onto him.
Taehyung shampoos his hair and rinses it, cards slick conditioner through each
stands with his fingers and lets it sit while he lathers Namjoon's body with
one of Jungkookie's body washes, something soft and light and clean. After he
rinses it all out, Namjoon opens his eyes, blinking water out of the lashes,
and smiles, his eyes forming into crescents.
He's so beautiful that it hurts, and in that moment Taehyung forces himself to
admit what he's known along: that he'll stay by Namjoon's side as long as
Namjoon wants him, that he'll do anything to make him keep smiling like that,
and that whenever Namjoon does leave, it'll kill Taehyung. It might actually
kill him.
"Taehyung-ah," Namjoon laughs, and Taehyung blinks, hoping it looks like only
water in his eyes. "Don't forget yourself."
"Hyung," Taehyung says, trying to keep his voice steady, "what did you mean
when you said you're into me?"
Namjoon stills. "What?"
"When you—" Taehyung shakes his head, trying to clear it, trying to make the
words come out right. "Last night, when you said you were into me, did you
mean...like, you're attracted to me?"
"I think I've been pretty clear about being attracted to you," Namjoon says
with a tiny frown.
A frustrated noise escapes Taehyung's throat. "Yeah, but—is that all? Did you
just mean you thought I was hot, or that you liked hanging out with me, or—"
"Taehyung," Namjoon cuts him off. "Are you asking me if I like you?" He's
smiling a little bit, a little bit teasing, a little bit disbelieving, and
Taehyung can't take it.
"I'm asking you if you love me," he says, and Namjoon's smile vanishes.
"Oh," he says, almost voicelessly. "I—"
Taehyung can feel his own face start to crumple, and turns away quickly.
"Okay," he says, reaching for the shampoo. "Okay, that's—that's fine, I'll
just. I'll get over it, I promise."
"Taehyung, Taehyung-ah, wait—" Namjoon pulls him back around. "Do you...love
me?"
Taehyung sniffs. "I think I've been pretty obvious about that at this point,"
he says, a little bitterly because he really wishes this conversation were done
already, thanks!
But Namjoon breaks into that same sweet smile again, only ten times brighter,
and he cups Taehyung's stunned face in his hands. "I love you," he says
solemnly. "So much. I think you're hot as fuck and the cutest little shit and
the kindest, best person I know, and I love you so much." He presses his lips
to Taehyung's like a punctuation mark, and then pulls back. "Did that answer
your question?"
Taehyung inhales, shaky and slow. "Hyung," he says.
"Yeah?"
Taehyung ducks his head, beaming even as his eyes start to sting. "I'm going to
cry on you a little now, okay?"
"Okay," Namjoon says, and draws him one-armed into a hug. "I'll just be over
here shampooing your hair."
Taehyung laughs wetly into Namjoon's neck. "Don't pull any of it out," he
attempts to tease.
Namjoon hums. "Don't worry, Taehyung," he says lightly, massaging shampoo into
Taehyung's scalp. "I'll take good care of you."
End Notes
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