Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Yoongi suddenly wakes up in the middle of the night, he’s not immediately sure what the cause is. He scrunches his nose in groggy displeasure, squinting his eyes open to peer at the time on his bedside clock. Almost three, definitely not time to get up. So why is he awake?

It could be the faint wail of a siren he can hear through his bedroom windows. While it’s muffled through the glass, Yoongi can still hear it as it recedes into the distance. He’s used to that though, to the sounds of the city even through the night. Normally he sleeps right through them.

Rolling over, Yoongi is able to discern a second reason why he might have woken up. He has to pee. Ugh. Normally he doesn’t have to get up in the night to use the bathroom, but he and Namjoon had a few beers last night before bed. His own fault then, or maybe Namjoon’s.

Shifting under his blankets, Yoongi pauses, wiggling his toes. His toes are cold. And, really, that’s the most concerning thing. Because Yoongi’s feet should be nice and toasty and weighed down by a familiar fluffy weight. Grumbling to himself, Yoongi wiggles an arm out from beneath his duvet and pats around the bed. The outside of the blankets is cold and devoid of any small furry creatures. 

He’s alone. But he didn’t go to bed alone. 

And now his feet are cold. And he still has to pee.

Grumbling to himself, Yoongi throws off his blankets and shoves himself up into a sitting position. He shivers a little from the cool air and huffs to himself as he stumbles out of bed. The door to his bedroom is ajar, casting a small strip of dim light across his floor. He follows it to the door and out into the hallway, scratching his belly as he pads down the hall to the bathroom.

Yoongi doesn’t turn any lights on, keeping his eyes mostly closed as he relieves himself and washes his hands. Then he’s back in the hallway, plodding back to his bedroom in the near-darkness, except -

The door to Namjoon’s bedroom is also ajar. As he passes, Yoongi’s head seems to turn automatically to glance into the room. Moonlight peeks in through Namjoon’s clumsily closed curtains, illuminating the end of the bed and -

And the cat curled up by Namjoon’s feet.

As Yoongi stares, the little black cat lifts his head, blinking big yellow eyes in Yoongi’s direction. Yoongi blinks stupidly back before turning away to continue back to his own room.

Falling back into bed, Yoongi murmurs a groggy, “Traitor,” before he pulls the duvet over his head.

---

“This kind says it’s made with real mackerel,” Yoongi says, studying the back of a container of treats. “Moist and crunchy, with a gooey fish center.”

Beside him, Jimin makes a gagging sound. “That sounds disgusting.”

“To you, maybe,” Yoongi grumbles, setting the treats back on the shelf and moving to look at the next variety.

Jimin follows, peering at the price stickers below the display. “Hyung, this is more than I spend on food for myself.”

“Just because you have a poor diet, it doesn’t mean Tangie has to suffer.”

He ignores Jimin’s next muttered protest, picking up another bag of treats. “These are salmon,” he murmurs. “I wonder if that’s better than mackerel.”

“I thought you said Tang’s favorite wet food was the sardine kind?” Jimin queries. “That extra smelly one.”

“Ah.” Yoongi sets the container down. “You’re right, let’s try to find sardine treats. They need to be perfect.”

Perfect, just like the food Yoongi and Namjoon buy for their little rescue cat. The most expensive brand, with real fish and meat, buying the flavors Tang seems to prefer. Namjoon feeds Tang in the mornings, since he gets up earlier, and Yoongi gives him his dinner in the evenings, cooing at the little cat as he gobbles down ridiculously expensive mush.

They buy good treats too, and Tang gets plenty of them. He’s definitely spoiled by both Yoongi and his roommate. Which means they should be equal in the cat’s eyes, and yet…

“Why are you buying fancy treats that cost as much as my rent?” Jimin prods, hovering as Yoongi reads another ingredient list.

Yoongi grimaces, pretending to still read as he responds, “Tangie has been spending too much time with Namjoon lately.”

A pause, then, “Hyung… what?”

“He’s been spending more time with Namjoon,” Yoongi sighs. “And less with me.” He finally looks up, finding Jimin gaping at him in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yoongi huffs, hunching into his coat.

But Jimin just shakes his head. “Is that why you dragged me here?” Jimin demands. “You said you wanted to go shopping but now we’re at this fancy pet boutique and - hyung. I’m pretty sure the jewels on the collars at the counter are real diamonds.”

Okay, yes, the store is fancy. Excessively so. Yoongi will admit that. But he wants the best. Because Tang deserves it, obviously. And also, maybe, because Yoongi is feeling a little slighted.

“You don’t understand, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi complains. “Tangie even greeted Namjoon at the door yesterday when he got home from work! I’m the one who feeds him dinner and he didn’t greet me like that.”

“Uh huh…”

“He was so happy, prancing over to the door with these little chirps, tail waving! Namjoon scooped him right up for cuddles and kisses! Tang got all these hugs and cuddles from Namjoon, it’s just not fair!”

There’s a pause where Jimin just stares at him, then his eyes narrow. “What?”

“What?” Yoongi echoes. Then he blinks, processing his own words. Oh. Oh that’s - “I mean Namjoon got all the cuddles from Tangie!”

“Right…” Jimin looks in no way convinced. “So you’re jealous of a cat?”

“Yes! I mean -” Yoongi frowns. Shit. “No. I’m jealous of Namjoon.”

The look Jimin gives him is almost pitying. “Sure, Yoongi hyung.” God, he looks so infuriatingly smug now.

“Shut up and help me choose some treats,” Yoongi grumbles. “I’m not above bribery. It was my idea to get a cat in the first place!”

---

It was Yoongi’s idea to adopt a cat in the first place. He’d been watching cat videos to de-stress from work for ages and had thought about how nice it would be to have a cat. Namjoon has always been more of a dog person, so Yoongi never asked, thinking his roommate wouldn’t be for it. But one night the two of them were on the couch, half a bottle of whiskey gone between them, and cat videos on the TV. Yoongi’s not even sure how they ended up watching that, but he wasn’t complaining.

And neither was Namjoon. His big, burly roommate was slumped into Yoongi’s side on the couch, a warm weight that giggled at the cats on the screen. A hand patting Yoongi’s thigh, a dreamy sigh escaping his lips as Namjoon cooed over kittens gamboling through a field of flowers.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or the way Yoongi was finding it strangely difficult to think with Namjoon crushing him against the armrest and squeezing his thigh, but he brought it up. Totally casually, and not weirdly at all.

“So… cats?”

Namjoon had tilted his head to peer up at him, cheek squished into Yoongi’s shoulder. A horribly unattractive angle, but Yoongi’s stomach did a weird little flip. Probably too much whiskey. “Huh?”

“Cats,” Yoongi repeated eloquently. “You like them?”

“Oh.” Namjoon nodded, his hand absently squeezing Yoongi’s thigh again as he pushed himself up a little. “Yeah, sure, they’re cute. You know…” He squinted at Yoongi. “You look a little like a cat.”

Maybe if Yoongi hadn't been half drunk, that statement would have given him pause. Because if cat equals cute and Yoongi equals cat… then wouldn't that mean Yoongi was…

He chose not to finish that analogy, instead focusing on cats. “Yeah,” he agreed. “So maybe, would you want to… adopt one?”

That was all it took. They went to a shelter the next afternoon, fell in love with a talkative little black cat, and brought Tang home a week later.

So, clearly, it was Yoongi’s idea to get a cat. And even though they’re roommates and adopted Tang together, it was all because of Yoongi.

And Tang even seemed more comfortable around Yoongi at first. He was so shy when they brought him home, hiding under a chair and staring around with his big yellow eyes. They let him adapt, leaving out food and water, toys, and slowly, Tang started to explore, and to get comfortable with them. And he seemed to favor Yoongi, at least a little, back then. Choosing Yoongi’s lap to curl up on, sleeping on Yoongi’s feet, sitting on the counter and watching as Yoongi made dinner.

But now… But now!!

Yoongi is chopped liver. Second fiddle. A benchwarmer. Just part of the furniture as Tang prances around like he owns the place. Which, well, they kind of let him get away with it. He is spoiled.

Spoiled and doted on, letting Yoongi pick him up and plop him onto his lap for cuddles or carry him to his room. That’s still the same. But it’s different with Namjoon. Namjoon who has started scooping Tangie into his arms and cooing at him while he cradles him like a baby. It’s ridiculous. The cat will just go boneless, so relaxed and comfortable in Namjoon’s arms, blinking trustingly up at him as Namjoon presses little kisses to his furry forehead and tells him how good and cute he is.

And that should be Yoongi! He should be the one getting cuddles! He should be the one getting those kisses!

Wait - no. That’s not - He should be giving those kisses. He means giving. Not getting. Obviously. Definitely. Ugh. All of this is clearly messing with his head!

---

Sometimes, though, Yoongi still gets the cuddles he wants (and deserves). Cuddles from Tang, obviously. Not from Namjoon. Yoongi definitely doesn’t want to cuddle with Namjoon.

That’s absolutely not what he’s thinking about now, as he lies on his back on his bed, pretending to read an article on his phone. At least he’s getting his cuddles, Tang lying on Yoongi’s belly, purring loudly as he makes biscuits against Yoongi’s shirt. He’s absently petting Tang with his free hand, gaze blurring as his phone screen goes dark. The treats seem to be working, at least. Tangie has been spending more time with Yoongi. It’s just… Yoongi’s been starting to have a few other realizations over the past couple weeks.

A knock on his doorframe pulls Yoongi from his thoughts. He lifts his head from his pillow to see Namjoon standing in the open doorway. 

“Hey,” Namjoon greets.

“Hey.”

Namjoon smiles. “You two look cute.”

The two of them? They both look cute? As in - Nope. Not gonna think about that right now.

Instead, Yoongi makes himself refocus on Namjoon, choosing to ignore the cute comment. “What’s up?”

“I was going to shower,” Namjoon responds. “Wanted to see if you needed to use the bathroom first.”

“Oh.” Yoongi lowers the arm holding his phone and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good, go ahead. Besides…” He pats Tang and chuckles. “I’m not sure I could go anywhere if I wanted to.”

Namjoon chuckles with him. “Of course, you can’t disturb the little baby.”

And that should be that, but when Namjoon turns to go, Tang stands up. Yoongi startles as Tang steps off his belly and hops down onto the floor. Stunned, Yoongi can only gape as Tang trots toward the door, letting out a questioning chirp to Namjoon’s back.

Immediately, Namjoon turns around, smile blooming once again. Yoongi thinks it’s a very annoying smile. Like, why does he even have dimples? They seem so unnecessary, aren’t they due to some sort of muscle malformity anyway? It’s not something Namjoon should be proud of. He doesn’t need to show them off so much and look so good and -

“What is it, Tang-ah?” Namjoon coos, snapping Yoongi from his mental tirade. “Are you coming too for shower time?”

Shower time. Yoongi fights the impulse to scoff. Cats don’t even like water.

But Tang trots closer, chirping at Namjoon again. “You want to join me again, Tangie?”

Caught between confusion and betrayal, Yoongi blinks owlishly at Namjoon before choking out, “Join you?”

“Ah, well…” Namjoon chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. “Sometimes Tangie follows me into the bathroom. He’ll lay on my clothes or sit on the edge of the tub and bat at the water while I shower.” He shrugs and glances at the cat now twining around his ankles, smiling softly. “It’s really cute.”

What? Yoongi can only hum in response, reeling from the shock of this new information. Tang has never done this with Yoongi. He rarely follows Yoongi into the bathroom, and never when he’s showering. But apparently he does this with Namjoon? And he plays with the water? While Namjoon is in the shower? In the shower wet and dripping, naked and flushed from the heat… The droplets trailing down his tan skin to his -

The spiraling thoughts have Yoongi sucking in a breath. And promptly choking on his spit. He coughs loudly, folding over himself as he hacks into his lap.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Namjoon asks, clearly concerned.

Yoongi waves him off, not looking up from his lap. “Fine,” he croaks. “I’m fine.”

But as Namjoon and Tang leave his room, Yoongi isn’t quite sure that he is fine.

---

There was time, about a year ago, when Jungkook tried to convince all of them to play Dungeons and Dragons. It didn’t really appeal to Yoongi, but he agreed to try it out for one session. Mostly because he couldn’t easily say no to Jungkook’s puppy dog eyes, the guilt would eat him alive.

But after the one session, Yoongi confirmed it wasn’t really for him. His head was spinning from all the information Jungkook threw at him about classes and races and spells and no amount of free beer from Jungkook’s fridge could fix that. It wasn’t really a waste of time, per se, but it definitely wasn’t something Yoongi wanted to do again.

Despite that though, Yoongi did learn a few things. Like the fact that Seokjin is even more dramatic than Yoongi thought, taking the roleplay extremely seriously. Or that Taehyung found a way to cheat at even this kind of game. Or that Hoseok started using a funny voice for his character when he was two beers in. And finally, and most importantly, Yoongi learned that Park Jimin is evil.

Honestly, it wasn’t really surprising. Jimin is devious and cunning, covering it up with a pretty smile and giggles. But he can’t fool Yoongi. Jungkook explained the alignment chart and Yoongi, an easy Lawful Neutral on the scale, was quick to zero in on Jimin writing Chaotic Evil on his own character sheet.

Fitting. Park Jimin, agent of chaos.

It’s what has Yoongi on edge right now, sitting stiffly on the floor with Jimin just a couple feet away. He looks so deceptively innocent, kneeling on the throw rug, teasing Tang with a feather toy. It’s cute, watching the cat stalk and attack the feather or leap into the air when Jimin lifts it high above his head. Tang is always so sweet when Jimin comes over, even if he can be a little shy with others. But he warmed up to Jimin almost immediately the first time they met, and Jimin loves playing with him and doting on him, even if his allergies make him suffer for days after.

“Get it, Tang-ah,” Namjoon laughs from his perch behind Yoongi on the couch. “What a mighty hunter!”

“So formidable,” Yoongi agrees absently. He’s a little distracted by how close Namjoon is to him. While Namjoon is sitting on the couch, Yoongi knows that if he were to lean back just a little, he could press his back to Namjoon’s shins. He can almost feel the warmth of Namjoon’s body from here.

Which is a totally normal thing for someone to think about…

Eventually, Tang grows bored of the toy and flops against Jimin’s thighs, purring and rubbing his face against Jimin’s knees.

“You’re so sweet,” Jimin coos, scratching Tang’s ears before stroking down his back. “I wish I could have a cat, but my -”

Jimin doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he cuts off with a loud sneeze. A perfect illustration of why he can’t have a cat.

Jumping away from Jimin in surprise, Tang startles and tucks his tail, scurrying away from Jimin’s loud sneezes. Yoongi reaches out a hand to soothe him. “It’s alright, Tang-ah,” he murmurs, fingers just barely brushing Tang’s side, but then -

Tang bypasses Yoongi completely and hops onto the couch, curling himself into Namjoon’s lap. It stings a little, knowing Tang would go to Namjoon to feel safe and secure instead of Yoongi. Though, in a way, Yoongi gets it. He’s also wanted to hide in Namjoon’s lap when he’s been frightened by the scary movies Namjoon sometimes insists they want.

“You’re alright, baby,” Namjoon says softly. “I’ve got you.”

Frowning, Yoongi looks away. Which is a mistake in itself, because he meets Jimin’s gaze instead. Jimin who looks quite smug again, staring at Yoongi with sharp, knowing eyes.

“Shut up,” Yoongi mouths at him, to which Jimin only grins.

“So Namjoon hyung,” Jimin begins, eyes still on Yoongi, “Tangie seems to be really attached to you lately.”

“You think so?” Namjoon asks. “I don’t know, I’ve always thought he preferred Yoongi hyung.”

Huh… that’s interesting. Yoongi thinks Tang prefers Namjoon and Namjoon thinks Tang prefers Yoongi and Yoongi thinks being held in Namjoon’s big, strong arms would be great and - Nope. 

Jimin hums thoughtfully, eyes twinkling. “That’s interesting. I don’t think I would prefer Yoongi hyung over you, Namjoonie hyung.”

If looks could kill, Park Jimin would be dead on the floor from the force of Yoongi’s glare.

“Ah, Jiminie, that’s not nice,” Namjoon laughs. “Yoongi hyung is great.”

Yoongi’s belly does a little swoop at Namjoon’s words and fond tone. He stares at a spot on the floor, trying to calm the butterflies in his abdomen.

“And besides, I think he kind of looks a little like a cat too, so Tang probably trusts him more. Don’t you think, Jimin-ah?”

“Oh, yes, hyung.” Jimin is the one who looks like a cat now, like a cat who just ate a very tasty canary. “Yoongi hyung is very cat-like. It’s cute, don’t you think?”

If this was Dungeons and Dragons, maybe Yoongi could explode Jimin with his mind. There’s gotta be a spell like that in the giant book of rules Jungkook had.

But Namjoon just chuckles and Yoongi can’t help but look this time, finding Namjoon’s eyes already on him. His gaze is fixed on Yoongi as he smiles and says, “Very cute,” in response to Jimin.

There is a beat of silence and Yoongi knows his cheeks must be red, his eyes wide in surprise. Namjoon stares back at him and, for a moment, Yoongi thinks he sees some pink coloring Namjoon’s cheeks as well. But before he can confirm it, or examine the implications of that, Namjoon is lurching to his feet with Tang in his arms.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Namjoon says quickly, depositing Tang unceremoniously in Yoongi’s lap before zooming out of the room. Yoongi watches him go, mouth slightly agape.

“Well,” Jimin says after a moment, “that was embarrassing.” When Yoongi turns to him, Jimin still looks extremely pleased with himself. “And interesting.”

Yoongi curls an arm around Tang, scratching his ears with the other. Thankfully, Tang doesn’t seem to mind the change of laps, settling down easily. “What are you talking about?” Yoongi demands.

“The most awkward flirting I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

“That wasn’t flirting!” Yoongi argues. His face still feels hot.

Jimin scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You’re still jealous then?”

Arguing is starting to seem pointless. “Maybe,” Yoongi grumbles. “I don’t know…”

“Well, I do. You’re jealous of your cat.”

“I’m not, I’m jealous of -”

“Do not say Namjoon,” Jimin snaps.

Yoongi closes his mouth with a clack of teeth. “Fuck you.”

“Gross,” Jimin giggles. “Don’t be so snippy just because you want to be the one in Namjoon’s lap.”

“But…” Once more, how can Yoongi argue? He’s been trying to avoid thinking about it, trying to deny it to himself. But, fuck, does he have a crush on his roommate? On his best friend? Slumping where he sits, Yoongi lets out a frustrated sigh, “Shit.”

“Mm, don’t be so upset, hyung,” Jimin soothes, leaning forward to pat Yoongi’s knees. “It’s obvious he’s got a big heart boner for you too.” His smile turns sly again. “And probably a regular boner too.”

Before Yoongi can argue, or ask how Jimin knows, Namjoon reappears from the hallway. He pauses at the edge of the couch, glancing between them, no doubt seeing Yoongi’s glare. “Is, uh, is everything okay?”

“Everything is wonderful,” Jimin says, grinning smugly at Yoongi.

---

Defeat at the hands of Park Jimin, agent of chaos, is almost as annoying as trying to sort out feelings. Yoongi’s head is starting to ache from the mental gymnastics he’s been doing, overthinking in spirals that all lead to the same conclusion. Yoongi likes Namjoon. Like likes him.

Is Yoongi really jealous of a cat? Does he wish it was him Namjoon was kissing and cuddling? Maybe. Probably. Yes.

It’s just… It feels almost sudden. They’ve been best friends for fifteen years now, roommates for five. How has Yoongi not realized this before? Are these feelings new or have they been there, just below the surface, for a while now?

Namjoon is such an important part of Yoongi’s life. He’s been in Yoongi’s life for so long, a constant. Someone who is always there when Yoongi needs him, dependable and reliable. It’s like… Namjoon is his person.

The realization makes Yoongi roll over onto his belly on his bed, burying his face in his pillow. Okay. Maybe it’s not a new thing. Not with all these feelings about Namjoon and knowing the sense of loss he’d feel if there was no Namjoon…

Namjoon with his thick thighs and full lips, firm pecs and toned muscles from all the time he’s been putting in at the gym and - Wow.

“Shit,” Yoongi mumbles into his pillowcase.

So it’s not a new thing, and also Yoongi needs to get laid. Preferably by Namjoon. And then they can hold hands or whatever.

The buzzing of his phone from beneath him has Yoongi shifting on the bed, shoving a hand beneath himself to pull his phone from under his belly. When he glances at the screen, he frowns.

[Park Jimin]

Special delivery!!

[Min Yoongi]

???

[Park Jimin]

Check the door

I sent you a ✨delivery✨

Ominous… Heaving himself off his bed, Yoongi leaves his room and heads for the front door. As promised, when he pulls the door open, there’s a package on the doorstep. 

Yoongi studies the package as he walks back to his room. It’s nondescript and relatively small, light too. When he gets it open, Yoongi stops in his tracks, staring down into the package. Nestled inside is a headband topped with a pair of fluffy, black cat ears.

[Min Yoongi]

I hope you drop your phone in the toilet

[Park Jimin]

Good luck 😽😻

---

Is this insane?

Probably

Does it have the potential to backfire spectacularly?

Definitely.

But, even still, Yoongi is kneeling on his bed in an oversized t-shirt, Namjoon’s t-shirt. He lets it slip off one shoulder, fluffing his hair around the cat-eared headband perched on his head. Then he poses, looking up through his lashes and biting his lip as he snaps a few seductive selfies. Then he types a message underneath the picture, pay attention to me.

Because he’s lost all control of his logical reasoning. 

YELLOW, or whatever it is Jungkook is always saying. Yoongi doesn’t let himself hesitate, pressing send before his brain can catch up and talk him out of sexting his roommate.

The read indicator appears almost immediately.

Yoongi holds his breath.

The typing indicator appears. Disappears. Appears again. Stops.

A surge of anxiety prickles beneath Yoongi’s skin. Has he fucked up? He’s going to have to move out. Leave Tang with Namjoon and move out of their apartment, out of the city. Change his name and move to Malta or Peru or Texas and -

There’s a knock on Yoongi’s bedroom door.

Fuck.

Yoongi still isn’t breathing.

“Hyung?”

The sound of Namjoon’s voice through the door, real and hesitant, has Yoongi sucking in a shuddering breath. His lungs expand and fill with air again and he clenches his hands atop his thighs. What the fuck does he do now? What if -

“Yoongi?”

Shit.

Clearing his throat, Yoongi finally speaks, “Come in.”

There’s a pause, then the quiet rattle of the doorknob as it turns. Slowly, as if unsure, the door swings open, revealing Namjoon in the doorway. He looks confused, a little flustered; his eyes wide and lips parted. His lips part further, as if to speak, but then he freezes as his eyes catch on Yoongi kneeling on the bed.

Yoongi stays perfectly still, watching Namjoon watch him. He sees the way Namjoon’s eyes rove over him, his bare thighs, the t-shirt sliding off his shoulder. Sees the recognition when Namjoon realizes it’s his own shirt, the way his eyes widen and throat bobs. Then Namjoon’s eyes on his face, Yoongi’s bitten lips and flushed cheeks, traveling up higher to the cat ears in his ear. He watches Namjoon swallow again before his eyes drop to Yoongi’s face once more.

“Hyung, I -” A pause, Namjoon’s fingers twitch at his sides. “I think you might have sent me a text, um, on accident?”

That throws Yoongi for a second. It’s not what he expected, but maybe he should have. Namjoon is a good guy, kind and honest. He wouldn’t look at something he’s not supposed to see. But Yoongi wants Namjoon to see. Yoongi adjusts a little where he kneels, trying to make himself look desirable. “Did you not like it?”

“I -” Namjoon pauses again, seeming lost for words.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Yoongi adds when Namjoon can’t seem to go on. “I sent the picture to you on purpose. Did you like it?”

Once more, Yoongi watches Namjoon’s throat bob, sees his eyes slide over Yoongi’s body. He hesitates, then reaches out to push the door open further. “I liked it.” He takes a step inside, pushing the door closed behind him. “I really liked it.”

Something hot prickles beneath Yoongi’s skin, the confirmation making him squeeze his bare thighs together. There’s a twist low in his belly, a swoop of desire rushing through him.

Namjoon pushes the door closed and takes a step nearer. “Is that my shirt?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi replies, fighting the urge to squirm under Namjoon’s heavy gaze. “Or maybe they got mixed up in the wash.” He shrugs, letting the shirt slip a little further off his shoulder.

There’s no way to miss the way Namjoon’s eyes follow the movement, how they lock on Yoongi’s exposed collarbone. Namjoon takes another step closer, nearly touching Yoongi’s bed. “Yoongi hyung, why did you… why did you send me that picture?”

“I told you,” Yoongi murmurs, fingers curling around the edge of the shirt brushing his thighs. “I want you to pay attention to me.”

“I’m always paying attention to you,” Namjoon breathes, getting a knee on the bed, moving closer. “I can’t help it, can’t stop.”

“Oh?”

“I try not to stare, but you’re so…”

He doesn't finish, but Yoongi thinks he gets it. “I don’t think you pay enough attention to me. You’re always paying attention to Tangie.”

Namjoon’s gaze snaps from Yoongi’s pale thighs to his face again. “Tangie? You mean -”

And Yoongi will definitely hate himself for this later, and he’ll never tell Jimin he said it, but Yoongi pouts, batting his lashes, “Don’t you think I’m a pretty kitty too?”

“Yes,” Namjoon says without hesitation, eyes dark with lust and want. He has both knees on the bed now and he moves closer, crawling toward Yoongi. “So pretty.” His knees brush Yoongi’s own and Namjoon reaches out, fingers just barely touching Yoongi’s hair where it falls beside his cheek. “So, so pretty.” The hand drifts up to touch the cat ears. “The prettiest.”

Honestly, Yoongi didn’t think he’d get this far. Namjoon is so close, his hand sliding into Yoongi’s hair, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. Yoongi can feel the heat of him, see the want in Namjoon’s eyes. He bites his lips, stares at Namjoon as he asks, “You really think so?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon shifts closer. “Let me show you.”

The hand in Yoongi’s hair slides to the back of his head and draws him closer. Namjoon shifts at the same time, tilting in, bodies like magnets gravitating toward one another. Breath ghosts over Yoongi’s parted lips, and then their mouths collide.

It would be a lie to say that Yoongi hasn’t imagined this. Or at least some version of this. Maybe not, you know, this exact scenario with the cat ears and the awkward sext. But Yoongi has imagined kissing Namjoon more times than he’d like to admit. Let the thought occupy his mind, appear in his dreams.

But none of those dreams and imaginings could have prepared him for this. For the reality of Namjoon’s mouth on his. Soft, so incredibly soft. It makes Yoongi shudder a little, makes something low in his belly shiver and swoop. His lips are warm and plush as they press against Yoongi’s, soft and sweet and a little tentative. 

It doesn’t stay tentative though. When Yoongi doesn’t pull away, when he only leans into the kiss, Namjoon seems to grow bolder. Or maybe to realize that this is real, that Yoongi wants this. Because it seems, as Namjoon tilts his head to deepen the kiss, that he wants this too.

I’m always paying attention to you, Namjoon admitted. As if he’s been just as caught up as Yoongi has been.

As if Park fucking Jimin, agent of chaos, was right. God dammit.

The last thing Yoongi wants to do right now is think about Jimin and whether or not he might be correct about anything. So he pushes the thought away and reaches for Namjoon, fingers curling into the front of his sweater. Their bodies press closer together, Yoongi lifting up onto his knees as he tugs at Namjoon’s shirt, Namjoon teasing Yoongi’s mouth open with his tongue.

So much better than Yoongi imagined, so much more than he imagined. Because Namjoon is big and warm and real and he’s licking into Yoongi’s mouth, clutching at him like he can’t get closer. And Yoongi feels the same way. He wants Namjoon closer, as close as he can get him.

Unknotting his fingers from the front of Namjoon’s shirt, Yoongi drags them lower, until he can tug at the hem of Namjoon’s sweater. Loathe as he is to stop kissing Namjoon, Yoongi needs this shirt off, and he needs it off now.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi slurs against Namjoon’s mouth. “Off, Joon-ah, take it off.”

Thankfully, Namjoon obeys Yoongi’s command and pawing hands. He pulls back long enough for the two of them to wrestle the sweater over Namjoon’s head and toss it away. Then they’re crashing back together, wet mouths and tangling tongues. Yoongi’s hands slide over warm, bare skin and he thinks he might astral project.

He’s seen Namjoon shirtless before, seen him in boxers and even naked a handful of times. They’ve been roommates for what feels like a century. But it’s never been in a context like this. And Yoongi’s never gotten to touch.

So he touches now, greedy palms tracing along Namjoon’s arms and over his shoulders, scrabbling at the plane of his back. As if he could map every inch of Namjoon’s skin, commit it to memory and claim it, possessive and a little desperate.

As the kiss deepens again, Namjoon presses Yoongi backwards, crowding into his space until he can push Yoongi back onto the bed. Yoongi goes willingly, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s neck to avoid breaking their kiss. They fall back against the pillows together, Namjoon blanketing Yoongi with his body, a heavy weight pressing him into the mattress.

Namjoon hums against Yoongi’s lips and breaks the kiss, pressing a kiss to the corner of Yoongi’s mouth instead, the edge of his jaw. He uses his nose to nudge Yoongi’s head to the side, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. The scrape of teeth has Yoongi whimpering, fingernails pressing into Namjoon’s back. It’s impossible not to squirm as Namjoon reaches his collarbone, teeth and tongue teasing along Yoongi’s already sensitive skin.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi gasps, unable to stop himself from arching up into Namjoon’s body. 

The movement presses them more firmly together and suddenly Yoongi is very aware of what he’s wearing. Or what he isn’t wearing. The t-shirt, a pair of briefs. Nothing else, and definitely nothing to hide the growing hardness in his briefs. He’s sure Namjoon can feel it too as Yoongi presses into him. But when Namjoon shifts against him, hips tilting into Yoongi’s, Yoongi can feel that he’s not alone.

Because Namjoon is hard in his sweatpants.

Let me show you, Namjoon said. Sounding like a promise. And he’s doing it, really, kissing Yoongi like this, needy and wet. But it’s not enough.

And, apparently, Namjoon feels the same way. “Hyung,” he breathes against Yoongi’s skin, fresh from sucking a bruise into his shoulder. “Hyung, want you.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi croaks. “Want you, Joon-ah. Can you - will you -”

“Yeah, hyung, yes,” Namjoon is nearly babbling as he pushes himself up. “Can I? Yoongi - let me -”

He’s hovering over Yoongi now, staring down at him and he looks like sin. Hair mussed and cheeks flushed, blown pupils and lips swollen and wet. Like every secret wet dream Yoongi has had for the past however many years. Yoongi would let him do anything he wants. Hell, Yoongi wants him to do anything he wants.

“Yes,” Yoongi insists, nodding fervently. “Just - just touch me.”

That seems to, finally, be enough permission for him. Yoongi sees the way Namjoon’s eyes seem to spark, hears him suck in a breath. Then there are hands on Yoongi, warm palms on his waist, gripping and tugging at him. Yoongi doesn’t resist, though he does let out an embarrassing squeak when Namjoon flips him over onto his belly. His breath leaves him in a rush but Namjoon isn’t done, dragging Yoongi up onto his hands and knees.

“Fuck, hyung,” Namjoon breathes. His hands slip beneath the t-shirt, fingers skimming over Yoongi’s thighs and sliding the shirt up over Yoongi’s waist. His fingers hook into the waistband of Yoongi’s briefs and he tugs, just barely. “Can I?”

As much as Yoongi appreciates him asking, he really just wants Namjoon to get to it. Whatever it is at this point. “Yes,” Yoongi breathes. And then, “Hurry up.”

There’s a huff of a laugh behind him, the click of Namjoon’s tongue. “Of course you’d be demanding in bed.”

Yoongi can feel himself flushing down to his navel. “You don’t seem to be complaining,” he grumbles.

“I’m not,” Namjoon responds, and then tugs Yoongi’s briefs down and off.

The shirt is pushed up again, Namjoon’s breath hissing through his teeth as Yoongi is exposed. “Fuck, hyung,” Namjoon says again, breathy, almost reverent. “You’re so fucking…”

But he doesn’t say what Yoongi is, doesn’t finish speaking, because his hands grip Yoongi’s ass and pulls his cheeks apart. Before Yoongi can even take a breath, Namjoon dives in, burying his face in Yoongi’s ass.

His tongue feels almost feverishly hot as it licks a stripe over Yoongi’s hole. It’s wet and slick, laving over his skin before swirling and circling around his hole. Yoongi makes a sound that he knows he’ll be embarrassed about later, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is the feeling of Namjoon’s fingers pressing into his skin and the teasing wetness of his tongue against Yoongi’s most sensitive parts.

Eventually, Namjoon pulls back, but only far enough to press his mouth to Yoongi’s ass cheek. His teeth sink into the flesh and Yoongi yelps, arms giving out from under him. Yoongi collapses onto his elbows, panting into his pillows as Namjoon sucks another bruise into his skin.

“Joon-ah,” Yoongi moans, sounding much more broken and pathetic than he hoped.

It makes Namjoon’s hands tighten on his skin, has Namjoon pulling back to lean his forehead against the base of Yoongi’s spine. He pants wetly, making goosebumps erupt over Yoongi’s skin.

“Yoongi, can I -”

“Lube’s in the second drawer,” Yoongi interrupts, not letting Namjoon finish. He doesn’t need any more questions, doesn’t need any more delays. All he needs is Namjoon’s fingers, and his cock, inside of him. 

With a grunt, Namjoon pushes up, his weight leaving Yoongi’s body and shifting, making the mattress creak beneath him. Yoongi misses his warmth immediately, but he doesn’t complain, not when he knows he’s about to get exactly what he wants. 

There’s the sound of the drawer opening, Namjoon rummaging inside. Then the mattress shifts again, and a hand slides up Yoongi’s thigh once more. “God, hyung,” Namjoon murmurs, fingers teasing along Yoongi’s skin. “I never thought I’d get to see you like this. You’re so fucking hot.” He pulls one of Yoongi’s cheeks to the side, thumbing at his hole. “Hyung, can I?”

Yoongi can’t help his groan, shifting on the bed and pressing his ass back against Namjoon’s thumb. “Namjoon, consent is sexy, but if you ask me one more time if you can do something, I’m going to kill you. And I’d really rather not kill you before you get your dick in me.”

There’s another huff of laughter, exasperated but fond, but Namjoon sits back on his heels and opens the bottle of lube. “Yes, hyungnim,” he laughs. “Sorry, hyungnim.”

And, god, Yoongi feels fond too as he settles on his elbows, chest on the bed and ass in the air. It feels weird, in a way, but so them. To still be able to banter and talk like this, even during sex. Like doing this, crossing this line, isn’t changing their foundation. 

It’s sure changing something though, because the first press of Namjoon’s finger inside of him has Yoongi feeling like his entire brain is being rewired. His head drops down, forehead pressing against his forearms, and he lets out a choked moan. It’s just one finger, slick with lube, but fuck it feels good.

Namjoon has always had nice hands, big and elegant, with long fingers. Fingers that feel absolutely amazing as Namjoon sinks them into him. One, and then two, sliding past Yoongi’s rim and massaging along his walls. Two thick fingers spreading him open as Yoongi whimpers and moans into his pillows, hard cock leaking onto the bed below him.

Three of Namjoon’s fingers feels like a stretch, a little bit of a burn. It’s been a while since Yoongi’s been with anyone, since he’s done this. But he relishes the burn, the feeling of Namjoon, knowing it’s only going to get better. Especially when the pads of Namjoon’s fingers brush his prostate, making Yoongi shudder and clench around the digits.

He feels close to the edge already, feels close to losing his mind. And he feels more than ready for Namjoon to fuck him, felt more than ready after two fingers. Shifting onto one elbow, Yoongi reaches back, batting the air until he finds Namjoon’s hand on his hip, patting him to get him to stop. “‘M ready, Namjoon-ah,” he breathes. “Need you in me.”

“Fuck,” Namjoon replies, eloquent as always. “Yeah, fuck, okay, hyung.”

The loss of Namjoon’s fingers has Yoongi squirming, the sudden emptiness feels so strange. He feels desperate for more, but not quite desperate enough to beg for it. So he tries to be patient, ignoring the ache of his throbbing cock as he hears the rustle of fabric and - 

Oh. Right, Namjoon was still half dressed.

Yoongi can’t help but push himself onto his elbow again and turn his head, peering behind him. And, fuck, he’s glad he did. Because he’s seen Namjoon naked before, but never like this. Flushed and slightly sweaty, with his cock hard between his legs where he kneels on the bed. Thick and long and ruddy at the tip, shiny with precum. 

“Like what you see?” Namjoon asks.

Caught, Yoongi’s eyes flick to Namjoon’s face, finding him smirking. He looks very pleased with himself. “Yah,” Yoongi huffs. “You know you look good.”

“Maybe.” Namjoon tilts his head slightly to the side. “But do you like it?”

There’s still a teasing edge to Namjoon’s voice, but there’s something else too. Something that aligns with the mentions of Namjoon always staring at him, of Namjoon always wanting this, of Yoongi being so…

“Yeah, Namjoon,” Yoongi replies, voice a little softer now. “I like it.”

I like you, he doesn’t add. But he hopes Namjoon can understand that part.

“Now if you could just…”

Namjoon laughs when Yoongi gives him a pointed look. “I get it.” Then he’s reaching for a condom and Yoongi turns back around and curls his arms around his pillow.

Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t have to wait much longer. It only takes a few seconds for Namjoon to get ready. Yoongi hears the hiss as Namjoon rolls the condom over himself, then the slick sounds of him stroking lube over his cock. The mattress shifts slightly as Namjoon moves closer, and fingers ghost along the back of Yoongi’s thigh, making him shudder as they drift higher.

Yoongi is still wearing the oversized shirt, but Namjoon seems to like him like that. He flips it up again, exposing Yoongi’s ass and gripping his waist. Fingers press into his skin and Yoongi spreads his legs further in invitation. There’s a breathy whispers of, “Fuck,” and then the head of Namjoon’s cock is nudging against Yoongi’s entrance. 

It’s slow and deliberate, Namjoon taking his time to tease over Yoongi’s hole before finally, finally sinking inside of him. The press of him has Yoongi groaning, head dropping between his arms as the head of Namjoon’s cock breaches his entrance. He feels so much bigger than three of his fingers, the stretch and heat of it making Yoongi pant, breath catching in his chest.

Namjoon enters him slowly, rocking his hips, pressing in just a bit more with each thrust. His hands grip Yoongi’s hips, keeping him in place as he works him open. It feels like it takes hours, Yoongi drooling into his pillow as he’s stretching wide around Namjoon’s girth and feels the length of him pressing impossibly deeper. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever been so full, doesn’t think he’s ever been so filled.

Filled not just physically, but something else too… Because this is Namjoon. Namjoon who is folding himself over Yoongi’s body, pressing flush to his back through the t-shirt. Namjoon who is pressing his face into the back of Yoongi’s neck, panting wetly against his skin. An arm wraps around Yoongi’s body, holding him close, and Yoongi lifts one of his own arms to curl his fingers around Namjoon’s wrist, squeezing lightly.

“Hyung,” Namjoon breathes, arm tightening around Yoongi’s torso. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi rasps. “You do too. Can you -” He clenches around Namjoon’s cock and Namjoon grunts, arm tightening around Yoongi again. “Can you move?”

“Uh huh,” Namjoon mumbles into Yoongi’s neck. “You just feel so good, I feel like I’m gonna…”

He trails off, but his hips shift, pulling out slightly before pressing back in again. They moan in tandem and Yoongi gets it. He feels close already, even though they’ve barely started. Like he’s a teenager again, a mess of hormones and feelings. 

But at least he’s not alone in that, and Namjoon isn’t either. They’re both on edge, both desperate. It’s obvious in the way Namjoon moves, how his pace picks up and he pulls out farther, only to slam back into him. Somehow it feels like Namjoon is pressing deeper into him with every thrust, like Yoongi can feel him in his belly, in his chest.

With a grunt, Namjoon peels himself away from Yoongi’s body and shifts, gripping Yoongi’s waist again as he thrusts inside of him. Like this, Namjoon can get more leverage, fucking Yoongi harder and faster, pushing pathetic little gasps and moans out of him. He’ll be embarrassed about the sounds later, maybe. Or maybe not, because Namjoon is making embarrassing sounds of his own and they’re going right to Yoongi’s dick.

It all feels a little ridiculous, like… How the fuck did they get here? How did this happen? Yoongi’s on his elbows and knees on his bed, in Namjoon’s shirt and a pair of crooked cat ears on his head, being fucked into the mattress by his roommate. Just a few days ago, Yoongi never could have imagined this would happen. But now… well, fuck.

He really hopes this isn’t a one time thing. Thankfully, with the way Namjoon touches him and the things he’s said, Yoongi thinks it very much isn’t. 

Because, yes, he wants his hot roommate slash best friend of a billion years to fuck him until he can’t walk. But he also wants to hold his fucking hand. Is that such a crime?

Yoongi doesn’t have much space to think about that right now, not when Namjoon is hitting his prostate with every thrust and Yoongi can barely feel his legs. His cock is throbbing between his legs and his entire body feels filled with electricity, pleasure filling him to the tips of his fingers and toes. So close to the edge, nearly there.

But then, quite suddenly, Namjoon pulls out. Yoongi lets out a desperate sound, disgruntled and confused and questioning. But Namjoon’s hands are on him, tugging at Yoongi’s waist.

“Turn over for me,” Namjoon says, sounding almost pleading. “Please, wanna see you.”

Oh. Oh.

Yoongi lets himself be flipped over. Lets Namjoon carefully remove the cat ears from his hair and toss them away, fingers trailing lightly over Yoongi’s temple, brushing his hair off his forehead. He lets Namjoon remove the shirt too, until the two of them are bare and Namjoon is leaning over Yoongi again, hiking up one of his legs and caging Yoongi in.

Their eyes meet and Yoongi can only stare, feeling a little out of his head now in the face of the raw affection in Namjoon’s eyes. He wonders if Namjoon can see it in his eyes too. Yoongi reaches for him, trembling arms wrapping around Namjoon’s neck to drag him down, pressing their lips back together.

Namjoon pushes into Yoongi again in one smooth slide, their bodies reconnecting as their mouths meet again. They wrap around each other, bodies intertwined and tangled as Namjoon fills him once more and begins to rock his hips. The pleasure spikes through Yoongi again, tingles of it traveling down his spine and gathering in his belly, swelling with every thrust he moves his hips to meet.

When Namjoon wiggles a hand between them to fist Yoongi’s cock, that’s all it takes. It’s so easy for Yoongi to fall over the edge, whining and moaning against Namjoon’s mouth. Fireworks behind his eyes, his hands clinging to Namjoon’s back, keeping him close. And Namjoon falls with him only a few seconds later, a gasp of Yoongi, pressed between their lips as they tumble into bliss together.

---

Yoongi isn’t sure how long they stay like that. The two of them still connected, Namjoon’s cock softening inside of him, breathing into one another’s mouths. They are gross and sweaty, but it takes a while for Namjoon to pull away. He touches Yoongi instead, ghosting hands along his sides, over his ribs, pressing lazy, clumsy kisses to his mostly slack lips.

Finally, after an eternity, Namjoon pushes himself up and slips out of him. He sits up on his knees and his eyes rove over Yoongi’s sex flushed form, blissed out and melted into the mattress. A small smile quirks his lips, dimples appearing in his cheeks, and he huffs a quiet laugh.

“You good?”

“I don’t think I can move,” Yoongi mumbles.

Another soft laugh, then Namjoon pushes himself off the bed. “Let me get a cloth. Wait here.”

“As if I’m going to go anywhere,” Yoongi grumbles, ignoring Namjoon’s laughter as he heads for the hall.

Part of him wants to tell Namjoon not to go anywhere either, but he’s done being ridiculous. Maybe. So instead, Yoongi admires the curve of his ass and broadness of his back as he walks away. 

Lifting a shaking hand, Yoongi rubs at his face. Holy shit, they just… they just had sex. Fuck, what is Yoongi going to say to Jimin?

Thankfully, he’s saved from that thought by Namjoon returning. Yoongi drops his hand when he feels the bed shift again, finding Namjoon has reappeared. He kneels beside Yoongi and cleans him off carefully, warm cloth against his sensitive skin. When he deems Yoongi clean, Namjoon tosses the cloth away and then… freezes. Hesitates.

But Yoongi doesn’t hesitate. He lifts an arm to pat his thigh. “Lay back down and help me get under the covers.”

Namjoon obeys immediately, wrestling the comforter from beneath Yoongi’s body and flopping down beside him. He pulls the blankets over them and rolls onto his side, facing Yoongi on the bed. Yoongi does the same, mirroring him.

“So…” Namjoon studies Yoongi’s face. “You’re jealous of our cat?”

“Yah…” Yoongi frowns and reaches out to pinch Namjoon’s side. “Shut up.”

Undeterred, Namjoon laughs and drapes an arm over Yoongi’s waist, pulling him close. “You can be my pretty baby kitty too, if you want,” he teases. “Maybe even my favorite one.”

“You are the absolute worst,” Yoongi grumbles, but he kisses Namjoon anyway, soft and sweet. Namjoon smiles into the kiss and pulls him even closer, bodies pressing as they kiss lazily.

There’s a soft chirp from the floor and they break apart. Namjoon cranes his head back and chuckles before clicking his tongue. “Tang-ah, what is it? Did you miss your appas?”

Not the first time Namjoon has called Tang their son, but it feels different now. Different with this new thing between them. Something potentially fragile and worrisome.

And yet… Tang hops up on the bed and walks daintily over them to curl up on Yoongi’s pillow. Namjoon snorts and rolls his eyes, smiling at Yoongi and Yoongi smiles back. Everything feels good and right and maybe this isn’t something they need to worry about at all. 

Though, Yoongi really, really hates to admit that Park Jimin was right.