Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

For what feels to be the tenth time in five minutes, Nam-gyu uses his pen to tip his glasses up on his face, only for them to fall right back down. Since he had an important exam coming up, he’d forced himself to actually study, but his mind keeps wandering— silly things like what he was going to have for dinner or when his next package was coming would trail into long deep thoughts, until he snaps back into it and glares down at his (still empty) page.

Getting himself to focus was always pretty tricky, but there wasn’t much he could do. If he didn’t get this done, he’d probably fail; which couldn’t happen, considering how retaking it would only make his constant nerves act up.

He’s doing it again. Fucks sake. Bringing the pen to his lips, he bites down on the end, stimulating himself so that he can keep his concentration for once in his life. But, just as he gets his train of thought back, his door swings open.

“Yo, Nam-su!”

That dick. Getting his name wrong, even after knowing each other for so long.

“Nam-gyu.”

“Nam-gyu, Nam-su, whatever. What’s up boy?”

As much as he wants to be mad, he’s really not that interested in studying. Thanos was much, much better than stressing over an exam. At any time, he’d let him in, no matter what he was doing.

Because they were best friends, obviously.

“I’m studying.”

Nam-gyu turns to face him as he talks pen idly tapping against his cheap little desk.

“Oh really?”

He’s tempted to turn around and huff and puff, but he doesn’t, because he needs to keep his eye on Thanos. Just by the way he’s acting, he can only assume he’s smoked something without him (traitor), and the whites of his eyes slowly going pink only confirms that.

Nam-gyu spins on his chair to fully face him, though he doesn’t expect his friend’s whole body weight to pin him down.

Insolent bastard.

“What are you doing?”

A stupid question. With Thanos being like this, to expect an honest response was damn near stupid, real stupid, but he can’t think of anything else to say. Not while this junkie was thrown on top of him, lounging against him like a needy house cat whining and crying for attention as if it hadn’t run away on its own.

Crooning back his neck, his heart thumps in his chest, though he refuses to acknowledge it. Not now.

“I like your glasses.”

Eh? What was so special about his glasses? It was beyond doubt that Nam-gyu despised his glasses; they would sit on his desk, idly staring at him as he slid in contacts each day, waiting for the day he’d finally pick them over the contacts he preferred by a mile. If he was running late, he’d maybe slip them on, but more often than not they’d collect dust in their little case.

“They’re stupid.”

Thanos shakes his head, sneering like a madman, an idiot high off some crazy shit. Not that he was any better but alas, we digress; why would he smile like that? Those stupid oval pieces of shit were nothing but a pain in the ass.

“Wear them more often.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

And Thanos? Mighty Thanos, the same Thanos that wandered the campus with superiority among other students, the Thanos that dealt like some money-drunk addict, the Thanos that refused his real name among all else and demanded to be called by that dumb rapper name; he pouts.

Choi Su-bong, also known as Thanos, pouts at Nam-gyu, some lowly junkie who did nothing but follow him around like a puppy.

Who could ever say no to that?
(A handful of people, that was for sure, but he’d rather not think about their weird, confused faces while a certain somebody’s was there for him to admire and adore.)

When he doesn’t answer, just pouting, he decides to change the topic; anymore of that face, and he might explode.

“What did you even take? Ketamine? Ecstasy?”

“Uh… I forgot. Strong shit.”

Of course he’d forgotten. It makes him snicker, but not before that soft smile returns. It’s not like he was going to get that studying done anyways; what was the harm in spending some time with his best friend?

“Right. Do you wanna go sit on my bed? The chairs hurting my ass.”

Liar. A good liar, one that passed by Thanos anytime, but a liar nonetheless. In fact, this is extremely comfortable, but the bed would be preferable in any situation. And so, they scramble off the chair, snickering and stumbling, until they reach the bed and fall lax on it.

Tossing and turning for a moment until they’re comfortable, it ends up with Nam-gyu backed into a corner, leaning against the headboard with Thanos nestled in his lap. At first, he’d protested, using the last sense of reasoning he had, but eventually his best friend had one. When didn’t he? He was a weak man— especially for a hot performing arts student with dyed hair.

“Why are you so close?”

All he can muster in vulnerable moments like this is a simple question, one that he knows won’t get a reasonable answer, if an answer at all. Rather than responding, Thanos leers at him, crawling impossibly closer and resting his head in the crook of his neck, breath hot against tanned skin.

For a moment, he foolishly assumes that’s all there is to it.
 
Thanos’ cute little gesture of cuddling up to the other’s neck quickly turned sick and twisted, expectedly. He snapped his head around and sunk his teeth into his sensitive neck, making the younger whine in pain and pleasure, Thanos only acknowledging the latter and chomping down harder and harder, until Nam-gyu panics and slaps the boy.

“Wh-.... You fucking… bitch. ”

He sneers between heaving breaths, scrunching up his nose and eyebrows yet leaving his eyes wide open, Nam-gyu getting lost in his huge pupils until forced to break eye contact by a painful slap on his cheek, as revenge. The younger flinches slightly, but the feeling is… a bit different to what Thanos would’ve expected. A deep crimson paints his whole face, his nose, cheeks, and ears being the most affected.

“You slut. Of course you ’d like that. Want more-”

Nam-gyu cuts him off by whining and nodding as hard as he possibly could. He’s being so needy today… And he’s not even high…                  

Thanos forcefully grabbed him by the jaw, demanding eye contact.

“Then be a good boy and earn it.”

He then sits up so he’s looming over the other boy, and fakes a yawn.

Nam-gyu pushes himself up too, however little enough so he is right under Thanos. His tongue escapes his mouth to drag itself over his lips, wetting them in preparation. For what? He didn’t know; there were endless possibilities of things that they could be doing right now, and Thanos wished upon all of them. He had missed this…

The younger’s lips part and his eyes start to cross. He sits there, mouth agape, waiting for the other’s move… They both know exactly what he wants. Thanos’ arm snakes round and grabs a fistful of Nam-gyu’s hair, thrusting his head back further, allowing him to spit in his mouth and close it with a kiss. The black-haired boy moans and meanders his arm under the other’s clothes, groping his thighs with force.

It’s as if the touch lights a dimming flame within him, snapping a thinning thread, and he immediately loses his mind . Thanos begins to bite and suck at a bruising lip, swelling and sore— it’s getting all the worse as things continue, air humid as sweat begins to stick to their foreheads. Initially, he hadn’t expected it, but he’s so desperate that everything he’s ever considered about himself no longer matters once his.. friend joins him.

Intensity only heightens when he manages to work his tongue into the mouth of Nam-gyu, needy and craving, longing for this type of attention. Musky breaths are shared, whining against each other as hands begin to explore. Painted nails rake against toned skin, pressing up against the ravenette’s stomach only to pull back down and make him cry out in pleasure and urgency.

Contrary to the bitten, painted ones that drag across his own skin, scratching in a way that he simply adores, Nam-gyu’s natural nails begin to latch onto the baggy joggers sat comfortably on the older’s waist, tugging meekly and waiting for some sort of response. Anything would be okay, just so long as it’s from him.

Pulling away from their connected mouths, intertwined once by tongue, it elicits a frenzied wail from the younger of them both, who tosses his head back and grasps the waist below his fingertips.

“Brat. Can’t even wait a few minutes?”

A deep, low whine from the back of his throat rises, rumbling his vocal chords as he watches Thanos grin at him, hooking over the hem of his loose pants, pulling them down tauntingly slowly. Snide words of encouragement assist him through the daunting process, muttering phrases of both degradation and praise under his breath.

Tossing the clothes to the side, landing on the floor in yet another pile of unwashed laundry, irrelevant to their current situation. Thanos is now half naked, beginning to shed his layers as if they would burn him if he didn’t get them off immediately.

The one thing he doesn’t tear off?

That damn necklace.

Still sweating immensely, heat growing and growing with each movement they make, clammy palms move to grab the cross, pulling it and tugging it until it moves over his head. Raising an eyebrow, Thanos gives him a look, a sort of one with both adoration and lust, before he returns to what he was doing and begins to slide down.

Obviously, he’s not minding his business for long, as once he slides that cross over his neck, Nam-gyu guides an (admittedly more colourful) hand towards his chest, clamping his hand shut around the cross. It takes him a moment to process, before he tips his head up just to check; still ogling at him with that dumb smirk.

“You kinky whore.” 

His grasp only grows firmer as the dark-haired boy peers up at him with those frantic eyes, before Thanos pulls him forward with the necklace. It tears a loud, keen moan from his mouth, hanging agape as if to whine and plead for more and more. Not once before had he been this scandalous, but there’s a first for everything, isn’t there?

Once he’s back to senses, mouth still hanging open like he’s desperately begging for more, it’s a surprising— though not unwelcomed— revelation to see Thanos exposed. The Lewd, lewd thoughts fill his head, and he simply can’t stop them; not only does he not want to, but he doesn’t have the energy nor courage. Something in him craves more, dreams for more, but nothing comes out. No, nothing but the water in his eyes beginning to well, threatening to spill.

Not that the taller one had noticed, of course, too occupied with his own body as his hands fumble with more slack layers and tries to tear them off. God, he’s so into it, he can’t help but feel hotter at the sight of it.

So much effort, only for a tear, one of bliss, to stream down his face.

Much to his bewilderment, Thanos doesn’t coo at him or baby him no; he moves forward and licks the tear.

And fuck, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“.. Under… under the bed..”

Between harsh breaths, Nam-gyu manages to mumble out three fragile words that have Thanos both dazed and curious. Lifting himself off the impatient mess on the bed, he moves to the floor, tugging out a small black box and digging through its contents; ropes, collars, everything. It’s a.. mildly shocking discovery, though he’s more enthusiastic and excited over all else. 

“You’re vile. Some other worldly type of kinky, Nam-su.”

“Nam-gyu.”

Despite their situation, he’s still quick to snap back, correcting him on instinct and habit.

Remaining splayed on the bed, his wrists laid just above his head, eager eyes watch as the older moves back to him, rope in hands. How much this turned him on, he couldn’t even say— the sheer thought of just being tied up and restrained while Thanos had his way with him was so infatuating in a way he couldn’t describe with words.

As the rope, warm with body heat from thick hands, touches his wrists, there’s no hope for him being quiet. Nam-gyu, groans, whines, any sound and every sound escaping past his bitten lips. For once, the older is quiet, focused on ensuring every knot is tight enough, yet not anything close to actually hurting him.

Eventually, it’s done, his hands are bound above his head and he’s pinned down to the bed, held by dually rope and the weight of Thanos himself.

Creak.

“Yo, Nam-gyu, have you—”

Shit. They’d forgotten to lock the door. Both of their heads snap around, staring at Gyeong-su in humiliation and shock as he stands there, processing the scene. It isn’t long before he yelps, mumbling a feeble apology, and runs off whilst shutting the door behind him.

Fuck.

“Gyeong-su? What’s up?”

Se-mi answers the phone with a.. Rather confused tone. Why was he calling her? They rarely spoke, lest something interesting happened. Did he have something to say? Was it good?

“Guess what I just saw Thanos and Nam-gyu doing.”

That could only mean one thing. Se-mi snickers.