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Yoongi is a good boyfriend.
He knows this, can proudly say this with all the confidence in the world.
He’s a good boyfriend, yes, but sometimes even the best people in the world screw up, too.
Right? He’s human. He makes mistakes. He’s good to Namjoon, always. He would die first before intentionally hurting him, one of the loveliest people Yoongi has ever known.
That’s why he’s stood apologetically in front of the couch where Namjoon is sitting, arms crossed and brows drawn accusingly.
“Baby?” Yoongi tests after attempting to assess the weight of Namjoon’s anger. It doesn’t look bad enough for him to snap. Namjoon, however, simply takes one glance at him, and then looks away petulantly.
Yoongi sighs understandingly. Fair enough. He should’ve expected that.
“Namjoon, I-“ he tries again, but Namjoon only glares at him again. “That was so fucking heartless, hyung.”
Yoongi sighs again, settling into the space beside Namjoon on the couch. “Don’t be mad,” he murmurs, jutting out his bottom lip. “Please?” Namjoon only glares at him, deadpan. Yoongi lets out a sigh.
“‘M sorry, Joon-ah,” Yoongi pleads, inching forward so that their sides press together. Namjoon makes a face, but he doesn't pull away.
“I’m sorry, I’m apologizing, see? I won’t ever do that again, swear I won’t.”
“You’re always swearing,” Namjoon mutters, kicking a leg out from under himself.
“I promise I won’t,” Yoongi amends apologetically. He boops Namjoon’s nose with his pinky finger, kisses it right after. “I promise, okay?”
Namjoon only wrinkles his nose in response, and Yoongi purses his lips. He knows at this point Namjoon is being a baby because he wants to, not because he hasn’t forgiven him. He knows Namjoon has. Forgiven him. Knows he has before it even happened. But if Namjoon wants The Baby Treatment, then The Baby Treatment is what he’ll get.
“My pretty baby,” Yoongi sighs dramatically, fingers brushing up Namjoon’s arms. “So big and thick and soft and pretty.”
“Stop that,” Namjoon grumbles, but Yoongi interrupts him by leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his parted mouth, humming. “You taste like turkey. Why do you taste like turkey, Joon-ah?”
Namjoon takes a second to consider replying, while Yoongi continues to let his fingers absentmindedly dance along the plains of his exposed skin. “I had a sandwich for lunch,” Namjoon finally decides to respond. It’s short, and curt, and mumbled, but it’s all Yoongi needs.
He grins into the next kiss, nudging softly at Namjoon with his mouth. When he pulls back, he can see Namjoon’s eyes are still closed shut and his cheeks flushed from the effort.
“Did you?” Yoongi murmurs, fingers walking up his back, threading through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Mmm,” Namjoon hums, eyes fluttering open just a crack, head discreetly inching forward for purchase. Yoongi can’t stop grinning as he leans forward to grant it to him, just a tease, brushing another light kiss to his top lip instead.
“Hyung,” Namjoon complains, falling forward again, and less discreetly now, for more. “Hyung, God. You’re so, so annoying.”
“Why are you trying to kiss me, then?” Yoongi hums, pulling away again. Namjoon’s face is flushing deeper by the second, and it’s taking everything in Yoongi not to shower him in all the kisses in the world, kisses everywhere until he was the most flustered shades of pink. “Hm?” he repeats expectantly, and Namjoon makes a small noise of protest, almost a whine. Yoongi bites his lip at that, aware too, now, of Namjoon’s fingers starting to glide up to his neck.
“’M not,” Namjoon mumbles, lidded eyes fixated on Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi runs a tongue along his bottom lip, watches Namjoon swallow, watches Namjoon’s eyes follow the movement. He sounds alert when he continues, sounds breathless. “You’re kissing me without my consent. You jerk.”
Yoongi sighs pitifully, making to sit back. “Fair enough,” he says, trying not to break out in laughter at the pained look on Namjoon’s face. “Sorry for-”
“That,” Namjoon amends thickly, eyes flickering back and forth between the floor, Yoongi’s eyes, and some spot beneath his nose, “That means you just have to get my consent first.”
A snicker escapes Yoongi's nose, and Namjoon flushes defiantly again. “You’re so cute, Joon-ah,” Yoongi huffs in laughter, reaching out to brush a thumb against the roses on Namjoon’s cheeks. “You sweet, big baby. Want hyung to kiss you?”
Namjoon only hesitates for a moment, most likely weighing the value of his dignity. His resolve visibly disintegrates when Yoongi’s roaming thumb bumps against his bottom lip. Yoongi watches his lips part instantly.
“Please,” Namjoon croaks out needily, fingers pressing gently into Yoongi’s skin. “Please kiss me, hyung.”
Yoongi surges forward instantly, connecting his lips to Namjoon’s in a soft peck.
“Was that good?” Yoongi asked, laughing at Namjoon’s face.
“Hyung, please ,” Namjoon groans, leaning forward to bump their lips together again.
“Okay, okay,” Yoongi laughs softly, leaning forward to close the space, to press another kiss to Namjoon’s lips, firmer this time. And then another, and another, each one more solid than the last. He shifts his attention to Namjoon’s bottom lip, sucking a pulling and biting gently, smiling every time Namjoon‘s breath stuttered against his mouth.
“Fucking,” Namjoon mumbles in between breaths, mouthing at Yoongi strenuously, lips moving harder against Yoongi’s. “Tease. Son of a bitch.”
The kiss is growing more heated, more rough by the second, and Yoongi let’s put a shuddering sigh into Namjoon’s mouth, feeling the same prickles down his skin as he did the first time they kissed. It never got old, not really. The airy, light, tense feeling never really changed at all.
“Closer,” Namjoon breathes suddenly, breaking the kiss briefly to yank Yoongi forward, so that while Namjoon was propped against the couch’s arm, Yoongi was laying on top of him, in between his legs. Yoongi blinks in surprise, caught off guard by Namjoon’s sudden strength and the dark, hungry look in his eyes.
“Oh,” Yoongi breathes, and Namjoon’s expression clears instantly.
“What? Did I do something wrong? Is this a bad position?” Namjoon quickly makes to sit up, but Yoongi plants his palms flat against his shoulders, holding him down.
“No, not at all,” Yoongi murmurs thoughtfully, surveying how Namjoon looks lain out underneath him. His fingers crawl down to Namjoon’s chest, resting tentatively on his pecs, feeling for their firmness, feeling himself getting worked up. Yoongi looks up to catch Namjoon’s reaction when he experimentally flicks a finger against his clothed nipple.
Namjoon’s head rolls back instantly, a small whimper escaping his bitten lips.
Oh.
“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers, flicking his finger back and forth against Namjoon’s nipple again, watching him arch into it, watching his lips part. “Is that good, Joon-ah?”
“Yes,” Namjoon chokes out, voice low and gruff, and Yoongi feels a surge of heat spread throughout his body. “Yes, yes, God.”
Yoongi is about to reach his hands underneath Namjoon’s shirt, skim his palms flat against his smooth stomach, but he’s stopped by the loud sound of keys rattling outside the apartment door.
Namjoon and Yoongi freeze instantly, staring at each other in surprise.
The only sounds in the room is Namjoon’s heavy panting and the doorknob repeatedly jiggling. After a couple moments, the rattling turns into banging, and Seokjin’s voice carries even louder through the door. “Min Yoongi! I know you’re in there, I can’t get the door open!”
Yoongi glances wearily at the door, and then back at Namjoon.
“Min Yoongi!”
Yoongi crawls up then, glancing down at himself in a hurry. His clothes aren’t that wrinkled. He runs a hand through his hair, once, twice, and wipes gingerly at his lips. They feel swollen, loved. Yoongi can’t help the grin he breaks out into. Namjoon mirrors it underneath him, looking equally as wrecked as he does.
“Go,” Namjoon chuckles, hands coming to hold Yoongi's waist above him as he shifts into a sitting position underneath. The movement creates the briefest friction against Yoongi’s crotch, and he chokes out a gasp.
“Sorry!” Namjoon exclaims, eyes widening, and another series of bangs sounds from the door. He starts to giggle, hands still comfortably on Yoongi’s waist, and Yoongi starts to laugh with him, heartily, uncontrollably. Seokjin hollers again, and Namjoon squeezes at Yoongi’s waist gently.
“Should probably go get that,” Yoongi grins.
“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees with a soft smile, freeing Yoongi from his grip.
“Have your ears fallen off or what?” Seokjin says the instant Yoongi swings the door open. “What were you doing that could possib-“ He comes to a stop upon seeing Namjoon sprawled on the couch, shirt wrinkled, hair misplaced, cheeks dusted, lips wet.
He looks back and forth between them for a moment of silence.
He then shakes his head, spinning around to head for the kitchen. “I don’t even want to hear it. You two are fucking disgusting,” he mutters on his way. “So disgusting. Repulsive. Need a drink before I puke.”
Yoongi glances over at Namjoon then, and after a moment of silence they burst into another fit of suppressed giggles.
“Hey,” Yoongi says through a smile, and Namjoon leans forward in his seat.
“Yeah?”
Yoongi feels his heart fill up, seeing his boyfriend watching him with the most innocently rapt attention. His smile softens, his heart does too.
“I love you, Namjoon-ah.” Namjoon’s eyes smile before his lips do, and Yoongi feels himself filling, filling, tipping over. “A whole lot, okay? I love you.”
“I know,” Namjoon agrees with his own smile, and Yoongi's heart spills over onto his face in a wide grin, crosses the room again to stand before him. He takes Namjoon hands in his and squeezes them tightly.
“Let’s never do that again,” Yoongi proposes with a shudder. “The fighting, I mean. I don’t like that.”
Seokjin’s scoff is loud enough to be heard across the city. “You call flirting and making love-eyes for half an hour and almost fucking on the damn couch fighting ?” He says in disgusted disbelief, appearing in the kitchen’s entrance again.
Namjoon snickers, and then Yoongi joins in, and Seokjin scoffs out another exaggerated eye roll. He pops off the cap of the bottle of soju in his hands,taking a swig right from the bottle. “You two make me sick. I’m going to my room. If I wake up to dried cum on that couch, the both of you are dead.”
“Love you too,” Yoongi calls after him, laughing when Seokjin slams his room door closed.
He looks back down at Namjoon, who smiles back up at him. Yoongi reaches out, brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Thanks,” Namjoon whispers, and Yoongi’s smile is soft, content.
“So I’m forgiven then?”
Namjoon purses his lips. “I guess I can think about it. Maybe you should continue that thing you were doing five minutes ago.” He rushes on defiantly when Yoongi throws his head back into a laugh. “It was speeding up the consideration process!”
Yoongi leans down to press a kiss to Namjoon’s nose. “Anything for you, my big, buff prince. Shall we to the room?”
Namjoon smacks his arm, but readily accepts Yoongi’s hand off of the couch with a big grin. “We shall.”