Work Text:
honestly, he didn't know why they always chose to hang out at hoseok's house. compared to yoongi's, his parents were like, always home, checking up on them occasionally and asking if they were hungry or thirsty.
which was fine. mrs. jung was one of the nicest people yoongi's ever met, and sometimes he thinks that she likes him better than her own son, much to said son's chagrin.
"she loves you, dude. even when you're not here she won't shut up about you. if she doesn't stop i might get jealous."
"you're disgusting, bye." yoongi shoves at hoseok, a gesture that's a little too aggressive to normally be perceived as playful, but entirely familiar to hoseok thanks to a decade plus of companionship from the other male.
he moves with the force of the shove, toppling sideways onto the open expanse of mattress next to him with a chuckle. "don't deny my affection, yoongi hyung." when he sits back up, he puts more momentum into his shoulders, jostling yoongi with one when they collide.
they both have to rub at their arms after that. jesus.
they're both up in hoseok's room, the preferred spot, watching some rerun of a shitty movie that neither of them knew existed until just a little while ago. a few stray kernels of popcorn are strewn across the sheets, the bowl between the two teens nearly empty.
the movie is boring, to put it bluntly. the actors are flat, the plot is flatter, and couldn't be any more transparent than plastic wrap. even the sheen from it's surface couldn't mask the huge piece of shit it was wrapping up. but it does make good background noise, and both of them consider muting it and voicing over the actors.
which happens, after another five minutes of yoongi relentlessly attacking the main character for his shitty dialogue and deplorable personality. who the fuck even talks like that these days? and why is his only motive to get in soo hee's pants? what the hell.
acting over the characters goes much smoother. hoseok's useless skill at making funny voices is finally put to some kind of use, and yoongi pulls out his snark in all the right places. it ends in twenty minutes of pure comedic gold, only interrupted by commercial breaks and fits of laughter when their combined humor became too much to bear.
hoseok leans too close after a series of giggles, breath fanning over yoongi's face. it doesn't smell bad, but yoongi's nose scrunches up anyway, and before he has time to smooth his features back, hoseok is kissing him.
it feels like an accident.
yoongi doesn't respond right away, and hoseok pulls back like it was one.
but yoongi isn't against it, he's just surprised, and chases the younger's lips with his own, catching them again in something just as chaste as the previous.
they usually don't do this.
they've never kissed in succession like this, actually.
it's too intimate and leaves too many questions hanging in the air, heavy pressure over both of them until they dismiss it, or ignore it like it never happened.
but today hoseok's lips are still buttery, and yoongi didn't get his fair share of popcorn earlier. he licks at hoseok's lips, hungry, and he wasn't expecting it, but they open enough for him to enter. he does.
the kiss dissolves into a territory they've never quite explored together; something wet and sloppy and characteristically lewd, but good in a way they wouldn't mind testing more in the future.
hoseok finds that the popcorn bowl is inconvenient rather quickly, breaking the kiss to crawl his way into yoongi's lap. yoongi who's surprised and breathless and a little fucked out in the mouth.
his back is up against the wall, hard drywall against his shoulder blades, and hoseok is so hot up against his chest and crotch and thighs, arms cradling his neck and thumbing at his jawbone when he leans back down to cram his tongue down yoongi's throat again. hoseok's an absolute angel when he's sucking face, all saliva and low groans in the back of his throat, hips gyrating in yoongi's lap on instinct.
yoongi brings his hands down in response, fingers digging into the flesh around hoseok's sharp hipbones as he grinds up. he makes his own noises into their tangle of tongues, filling the space between their lips with feverish promises whenever they part for breath.
he wonders how they got this far. he came out to have a good time, and he's honestly feeling so attacked by the way hoseok can swivel his hips, holy shit. if he were a lesser man, he would've came in a different sense.
but he isn't a lesser man, and continues to roll his hips up to meet, nipping hoseok's lips tender while he's at it. hoseok enjoys it, if getting louder is any indication of pleasure, and--fuck, they forgot to unmute the tv. this is not part of the script. though if hoseok murmuring 'yoongi, yoongi' against the hollow of his throat while he's catching his breath is something they could rehearse every day, he'd be so down.
yoongi figures it'll be fine. if hoseok's mom hasn't been up here yet she won't be any time soon, so he has enough time to thoroughly make out with her son.
yoongi is wrong. yoongi is really wrong.
his hands had just recently made their way to hoseok's ass, kneading the flesh through his gym shorts when mrs. jung opens the door, flooding the room with light and the sweet fragrance of some snack she had just made, according to the glee in her voice when she says as much.
yoongi's petrified, so embarrassed that his best friend's mom caught him fondling her son in a less than best friendly way. his hands still, but he doesn't remove them. he can't.
hoseok, on the other end, jolts when his mom opens the door, sitting ramrod straight in yoongi's lap, and looking like he just got shocked. his face is red. incredibly red, like it'd scorch yoongi if he touched it, and he avoids looking her in the eye.
"mom," he whines, voice barely an ashamed mumble. if the tv's sound had been on, he would've gotten buried under the noise. "we're busy. can you knock first next time?"
yoongi would snort if he weren't mortified, but he is, so he settles for wanting to cry instead. a second best in his opinion. and mrs. jung isn't even fazed by the situation, or their reactions, which is concerning, but yoongi's too nervous to think about that, especially when she's sitting the snacks down on a side table and patting both of them on the head.
"it's alright, i won't bother you boys' fun time, but be safe, ok?"
what?
she leaves the room muttering something curious about 'is this what kids find fun instead of those tv games nowadays?' both hoseok and yoongi want to wither up and die.
hoseok is the first to relax, body going slack and falling into yoongi's. he buries his face in the side of yoongi's neck with a heavy sigh that ends in a laugh.
"oh my god. my mom."
"yeah."
"we're hanging out at your place next time."
"i'm glad you've finally come to some sort of sense. your parents probably think we're fucking, but like, no big deal or anything." it's sharper than usual to mask the lingering embarrassment that stings at yoongi's face, and hoseok moves to kiss him; cheeks, nose, lips.
he can't even pretend to be angry anymore. not when hoseok is warm around him and kissing him breathless again, all lips and laughter, and yoongi thinks that he might be just a little gay for his best friend.
just in this moment.
