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Namjoon turns off the camera and turns to Seokjin, tugging him closer. “You smell good.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes at him. “I smell sweaty, you mean. I need to shower. I’m kind of gross.” They’ve just had practice and Namjoon had dragged Seokjin along to film his birthday log.
“You know you don’t get gross.” Namjoon turns Seokjin’s chair so they’re facing each other. Seokjin’s gumiho blood means he might get sweaty, but it goes away. Seokjin showers pretty much only on a ceremonial basis. He doesn’t get dirty. He tugs Seokjin forward and the scent of fresh grapefruit pops in the air. “Can I kiss you?”
Seokjin’s eyes fold into half-moons. “It’s your birthday.” He reaches and strokes Namjoon’s jaw, running the pads of his fingers along the stubble there. “The first time I met you, you were a child. No stubble anywhere. Now you’ve all grown up.”
Namjoon raises an eyebrow and catches Seokjin’s fingers. “You talk like I just grew stubble. I’ve been shaving for a while. Fuck, hyung, even Jungkook shaves now, and he’s not even an adult.”
Seokjin laughs and Namjoon traces Seokjin’s own chin. Seokjin keeps himself freshly shaven all the time, and Namjoon can’t even feel anything along the smooth skin. Namjoon, on the other hand (along with the rest of them), is not as meticulous about it. “You’re 21 now.” Seokjin mumbles off handedly. He lets Namjoon’s hand drop lower to his neck, where Namjoon strokes his finger down the dip of the collarbones. “20 internationally. You’re not a teen anywhere.”
“Does that make you feel old?”
Seokjin snorts. “Please. I’m only two years older.” Their knees knock against each other and Namjoon’s hands drop to Seokjin’s waist. “Are we seriously going to have sex here?”
“The door’s locked and the room’s soundproof. Plus if we walk back now, you’re going to smell super attractive to every single person we pass. It’s 4 in the morning. I’m not sure if you’d be attracting decent people.” Namjoon mumbles, and he tugs Seokjin forward and onto his lap. Seokjin’s tail is already out and Namjoon drags his fingers along the soft fur. Seokjin probably hasn’t even realized his tail is out. Namjoon doesn’t hurry – he kisses Seokjin slowly, lazily, running his fingers down Seokjin’s spine and letting his fingers squeeze Seokjin’s waist. He’s taken care of Seokjin often enough that he knows how things work now.
Seokjin must have had the same thought because he leans back and smiles. “Remember how bad you were when we first did this?”
“Remember how bad you were?” Namjoon grins back. “You just kind of laid there while I tried to figure things out.”
Seokjin laughs, his high-pitched giggle that never fails to make Namjoon smile at how ridiculous it sounds, and he presses their foreheads together. “You don’t know how glad I was that you found me that day and didn’t make anything weird. I used to try to handle things myself before that. It didn’t work out too well.”
Namjoon shrugs. “I know. You tell me all the time.” Namjoon remembers he was in the studio when a sweet, slightly bitter tang snapped his attention. He’d followed the smell to find Seokjin curled up in one of their small storage rooms and things had rolled from there. He leans forward until Seokjin’s almost back on his chair. “I’m glad you have me.”
“This is dangerous,” Seokjin mumbles against Namjoon’s lips, buts lets Namjoon kiss him. Namjoon’s got his hand braced on the second chair and he’s supporting Seokjin with his other hand. Namjoon doesn’t really trust himself, so he pulls back up before he can hurt both of them. He pushes both chairs all the way in under the desk before unrolling the sleeping bag he keeps stashed in the corner just in case he has to camp out in his studio.
Seokjin rolls on top of it gleefully. “You have towels?”
“What do you take me for, an idiot?” Namjoon rolls his eyes, and then, at Seokjin’s grin, mumbles, “Okay, don’t answer that. I have towels. You aren’t wet yet, though.” He tugs Seokjin’s hips onto his lap and reaches in his bag for the towels he stuffed in them this morning. He folds them carefully the way he’s seen Seokjin do so many times and pats them down flat on the sleeping bag. He tugs Seokjin’s pants down and bends to press his lips against Seokjin’s. The scent of grapefruit gets sharper in the air, and Namjoon can almost taste the bittersweet citrus on his tongue. He loves it.
Seokjin wraps his legs around Namjoon’s waist. “You take such good care of me.”
“You’re sure I am, right?” Namjoon mumbles, pushing Seokjin’s shirt up and drumming his fingers along Seokjin’s side. “I’m never sure if I’m messing up somehow.”
Seokjin laughs. “I’m sure.” He rubs Namjoon’s cheek. “I’m glad it’s you and not someone like Jungkook who decided to take care of me. Oh god, can you imagine?” Seokjin shudders a little.
Namjoon shrugs. “You know, I think he wants to. How would you even feel about-“
“Namjoon, he’s a child. He’s not even 20 yet.”
Namjoon grins. “And Taehyung?”
Seokjin glares. “Are we going to be having any sex tonight, or are you just going to try to rile me up? I take back what I said about you taking good care of me. You’re just a jerk.” He half-heartedly kicks Namjoon’s shoulder and Namjoon pretends to be hurt. Namjoon falls heavily onto him and they roll around for a bit, although only half heartedly since Seokjin’s going to be kicking into his real heat very soon.
They face each other, curled up on the sleeping bag that’s largely become crumpled from their roughhousing. “What about Yoongi-hyung?” Namjoon asks softly. Seokjin blinks at him and Namjoon tugs Seokjin a little closer. The material beneath them bunches up but neither of them pays too much attention to it. “I really think you and Yoongi-hyung should just sit down and talk about things. You two drive me up the wall.”
Seokjin sighs and reaches instead between Namjoon’s legs. Namjoon doesn’t stop him but narrows his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Yoongi, Namjoon. Can we just focus on us? And all the grapefruit?”
Namjoon just watches him for a while and then shrugs as best as he can with one shoulder on the floor. He sits up, attempts to straighten the sleeping bag half-heartedly, and tosses one leg over Seokjin. He leans down with his weight on his elbows, looking at Seokjin like he normally does. Like Seokjin’s the most precious thing on earth.
“Namjoon,” Seokjin breathes, almost scared to break the soft mood around them. “Do you love me?”
Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a while. He then shifts his weight to one side and cups Seokjin’s cheek with his free hand and pats it gently. “I never even knew I liked the smell of grapefruit until you happened,” he whispers. “I think you know the answer to that question already.”
Seokjin swallows. “And you’re – you’re okay with this, and talking about Yoongi and all that?”
Namjoon shifts his weight back onto both elbows and presses his lips onto Seokjin’s forehead. “Yeah. I’ve learned unattainable things are best left unattainable. Grapefruit is actually the best way to describe my situation. Bitter and sweet. But mostly enjoyable. I’m okay, hyung.”
Seokjin swats him on the top of the head. “You’re a cheesy poet, Namjoon.”
Namjoon only grins cheekily at Seokjin before pulling the rest of Seokjin’s clothes off before working on his own. The scent of grapefruit is sharp in the air, sweet and sour and bitter. Before he lets himself get lost in Seokjin, Namjoon thinks he might have to find a good grapefruit scent diffuser.