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“This is not what you think it is.” 

Yoongi feels like he was transported to another reality, another realm of existence, surely got lost in the multiverse, because there’s no way in hell he just walked inside his dorm room to find his uptight, first of his class, Do-All-The-Right-Things roommate Kim Namjoon handcuffed to his bed half naked

He blinks a couple times, brain working hard to register the sight before him, hand still on the doorknob. It was locked, of course. But he has a key of his own, of course. He didn’t knock because there was no signature sock on it, of course. And Namjoon’s not supposed to be here right now; after six months living together, you learn someone’s schedule without even trying. 

His roommate is supposed to be in class at 2pm every Tuesday (maybe for Advanced Sociology or Introduction to World Politics? Those are some of the books Yoongi saw on his desk a lot). Not here. Not naked. Not handcuffed to the bedpost. And definitely not blushing this furiously with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

“If you’re not gonna say anything, at least close the fucking door,” Namjoon half demands, half begs, and Yoongi feels himself popping out of the weirdest trance of his life before fully entering the room and shutting the door behind him. 

He places the keys on his desk and drops the backpack near the foot of his bed, now looking anywhere but Namjoon. Does he– want help? Did someone leave him like this? Did he ask them to? 

“Hyung.” 

Yoongi turns around, making up his mind of what to do next in a heartbeat. “Do you want help with that?”

“It’s not what you think it is.” 

“That’s not an answer to my question.” Yoongi feels the heat on his own cheeks. Don’t get him wrong; he’s not a prude or anything. But this is Namjoon . They’ve known each other for years, even if they’ve never been close friends or anything (not even after college roomed them together). “Do you want me to uncuff you or not?” 

Namjoon seems to blush even harder. Yoongi can’t recall ever seeing that man blush. But then again, they have never spent time together in any situation that could lead to Namjoon potentially blushing, have they?

“I– I don’t have the keys,” he confesses in a low tone. “This is not what it looks like, I swear.” 

“It’s not?” Yoongi can’t help but ask. It’s the third time Namjoon says the sentence and he’s yet to explain what it actually is if it’s not what it looks like. 

Namjoon tries to get more comfortable on the bed, but that seems to be a nearly impossible task. His arms are stretched out on each side and cuffed to the bedposts on the far left and right, showing off his tanned skin and arm muscles, a single gold and long necklace nesting on his well defined chest.

Not that Yoongi’s paying attention to that area in particular. He merely glanced at it.

“You know my friend Kim Taehyung?” Namjoon asks, more as a start to the story than an actual question directed at Yoongi, but the older man nods anyway. “So, he wanted to do a shoot for one of his classes, and he had the idea of using me in sensual scenarios or whatever because I’m known to be a–” he stops, clears his throat. “Well, I’m very lowkey.” 

That’s one way to put it, Yoongi thinks. 

“And where is Taehyung and the keys?” 

Namjoon sighs, shaking his head. “We weren’t supposed to photograph here, of course, because there’s nothing sexy about my bed or the walls, but he wanted to test to see if the cuffs worked and if I would look good on them, so I said okay.” 

Yoongi waits for the rest, feeling amused already. 

“After he took my shirt off and cuffed me , the motherfucker realized he hadn’t brought the keys.” 

That does it for Yoongi. He laughs — not loudly, but just enough so he has to hold his belly with one hand and the desk with another. He laughs and hears Namjoon’s pleas for him not to laugh, which only makes him laugh harder. 

After what it feels like maybe five minutes, Yoongi sighs, absolutely pleased, and straightens up, wiping a tear from the side of his eye. Namjoon, still blushing, stares at him with a blank expression. 

“Are you done?” 

“Do you want me to break the bedpost and free you?” 

Somehow Namjoon manages to stare even harder. “These beds are not our property. Do you have any idea how much this would cost me?” 

“So you just rather stay tied up,” Yoongi deadpans, crossing his arms. 

“I don’t prefer it , Min Yoongi.” Namjoon frowns, pursing his lips and Yoongi thinks he looks kinda cute when he does that. “It’s simply the least expensive option. Taehyung should be here any minute.” 

“Well, suit yourself.” 

Yoongi removes his sweater and grabs his laptop from the backpack, getting ready to finish an assignment due tomorrow that unsurprisingly he decided to do at the last moment. 

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asks, sounding rather shocked. 

“Studying.” Yoongi doesn’t look at him. He places the laptop on his bed and gets comfortable, putting a pillow behind his back and one on top of his legs before grabbing the laptop and opening it up. “My schedule for today does not involve getting half naked and cuffed to my bed. Dull, I know.” 

Namjoon scoffs. “I didn’t know you were so sarcastic.” 

“If you talked to me more, maybe you would.” 

The youngest huffs and the sound of one of the metallic cuffs hitting the wooden bedpost makes Yoongi chuckle to himself. 

Yoongi’s trying (and admittedly failing) to start reading the article whose paper was due tomorrow when his roommate speaks again after a few minutes. 

“I’d talk to you more if you didn’t look so bored all the time.”

“Is my resting face not inviting to you?” Yoongi wonders, rereading the article’s title for the fifth time. “We’ve known each other since high school , Namjoon. You know you can talk to me about your kinks. I won’t judge.” 

“Shut up,” Namjoon chuckles, whining right afterwards, which makes Yoongi smile. 

The silence hangs heavy between them and Yoongi decides that it’s just because of the peculiar situation they are in. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact it’s taking everything inside of him not to turn his eyes to the right and openly stare at his roommate. 

It’s useless to try to read the article, too, but he pretends. The minutes slowly tick by and Namjoon squirms a little on the other side of the room. Yoongi considers just walking out again, saying he forgot a book or something, but opts for being upfront.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, still keeping his eyes on the screen. “Or look for Taehyung.” 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Namjoon replies, seeming alarmed. 

“Well, I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” 

“Why would you think that?” 

“Well, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, Namjoon, but you’re handcuffed to the bedpost.” 

“And you think that makes me uncomfortable?” 

Yoongi drags his eyes away from his laptop and focuses them on the younger man’s face. Namjoon’s looking at him, too, a small frown between his brows.

“You’re blushing,” Yoongi argues without taking the time to think about the words that were coming out of his mouth, which only leads to Namjoon blushing harder. 

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he states, looking away from Yoongi’s face. “If I were uncomfortable with the idea of being handcuffed to a bedpost half naked I wouldn’t have agreed to be photographed in the first place, would I?” 

“You do have a point.”

The door slams open right in that moment, and a very out of breath Taehyung bursts inside, cheeks all flushed. He closes the door and raises his hand in the air, showing off a small set of silver keys like it’s a prize. 

“Took you long enough,” says Namjoon. 

“I live on the other side of campus ,” replies Taehyung, looking at him before blinking his eyes towards Yoongi. “Hi.” 

“Hello.” 

“Uncuff me, please .” 

Taehyung moves swiftly towards Namjoon’s bed and starts opening the cuffs. Yoongi doesn’t bother pretending he’s not looking now; it’s only natural to look. It has nothing to do with Namjoon or the idea of him being handcuffed. 

He’s simply watching the outcome of a situation.

“There.” Taehyung puts the cuffs inside his backpack alongside the keys and rans a hand through his caramel hair as Namjoon rubs at his wrists. “Sorry, hyung. We’re still up for the shoot Saturday, right?” 

Namjoon gives him a long look and Yoongi’s lips stretch in a smile once more. 

“You’re on thin ice, Kim Taehyung.” Namjoon shakes his head and sighs. “But yes, I’ll be there.” 

“Thank you, hyung, you’re the bestest!” Taehyung bows dramatically. 

Yoongi’s kind of curious what the theme for this project is, but he’s not close enough to either of them to ask. 

“And Yoongi-hyung?” Taehyung calls, eyes shining with a sudden mischievousness Yoongi doesn’t understand. “If you’d like to watch the shoot or join us, we’ll be at the studio Jungkookie works at right outside of campus at 5pm. You know, Strike a Pose ?” 

“I do know.” What Yoongi doesn’t know is why Taehyung’s inviting him. Namjoon seems to be just as lost. “Thank you for the invite.” 

“You’re welcome,” Taehyung almost purrs the words out before glancing at Namjoon, not so subtly winking and turning around to walk out of the door. 

The silence returns. Namjoon clears his throat and stands up, pulling a green shirt over his head with his back (holy shit ) turned to Yoongi. 

“Sorry you had to see all of that,” Namjoon apologizes in a small voice, looking at him before grabbing his phone on the nightstand. 

“No need to say sorry.” 

Namjoon nods and walks out. 

Yoongi can’t concentrate on his paper at all. 




“When exactly did Kim Namjoon become so.. buff?” Yoongi asks as soon as he sits on the table in front of his friends. 

“Good morning to you too,” Hoseok greets.

Yoongi dismisses him with a wave of hand and turns to Seokjin, who’s happily enjoying kimchi by Hoseok’s side. “So? You know everything about everyone.” 

Seokjin looks at him with a full mouth, slowly chewing the food. When he finishes, the older man takes a sip of his drink and wipes his lips clean before speaking. “Namjoon has been working out for a few months with Jeon Jungkook. There were a few rumours they were together, but unconfirmed.” 

“I see,” Yoongi mutters, taking a piece of his tangerine. It’s been a couple days since what he has come to call The Handcuffs Incident happened and his mind has been full of naked tanned skin and cute blushed cheeks ever since. It’s kinda maddening, if he’s honest. 

“Why are you asking?” Hoseok wonders, an eyebrow raised. “Isn’t he… your roommate? You didn’t notice him getting buffer?”

Yoongi pursues his lips. He’s not exactly known for being inattentive, but he is a pisces after all and this semester has been really hard. “I didn’t,” he admits. “Always busy, you know me.”

“You sleep in the same room ,” Hoseok insists with a small giggle.

“When I get to the room he’s usually already passed out on his bed and with a loose shirt on, I honestly think the first time I ever saw him shirtless was two days ago.”

Both Seokjin and Hoseok narrow their eyes and Yoongi whines. He didn’t exactly plan on mentioning The Handcuffs Incident to either of them and he will blame it on the lack of caffeine in his system since the cafeteria was closed when he walked by it (a crime, in his books, but not according to the actual law, so maybe someone should change that). 

“You saw him shirtless, hyung?” Asks Hoseok, voice too low and too sensual for Yoongi’s liking. It’s only 8am, for fucks sake. “You liked it, huh? That’s why you’re asking.”

“Yes, I liked it, Hoseok, I am attracted to hot beefy men, can we move on?” Yoongi takes another piece of tangerine, chewing slowly. “But it’s just- I never thought I’d see Kim Namjoon of all people like that.”

“Shirtless?” Seokjin wonders, placing his chin over his knuckles, seemingly confused by Yoongi’s words. “Everyone gets shirtless, what, you thought he showered with clothes on?”

Yoongi chuckles awkwardly, deciding it’s definitely best not to mention that the situation in which he saw Namjoon shirtless happened to involve him being handcuffed to the bed with a golden necklace going down his chest.

“Very funny,” he says, eating the tangerine pieces faster. He shouldn’t have started this conversation at all, but he just. Can’t move on. Yoongi clears his throat. “You said there were rumors about him and Jungkook?”

“Yes.” Seokjin seems very concentrated on his food to pay too much attention to Yoongi’s very odd line of questioning, but Hoseok’s eyes are still narrowed. “But we don’t really know much about Namjoon, so honestly, he could very well be straight.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “That man is not straight.” When both Seokjin and Yoongi turn their eyes to him, the younger of the three shrugs. “I’m friends with Park Jimin, he said they hooked up at a party once.”

Yoongi tries his best to keep it cool and since he’s the master of keeping it cool, it probably works. He doesn’t say or ask anything else, deciding to change the subject to how Seokjin’s thesis is going. The topic of Kim Namjoon is dropped by 8:25am and Yoongi makes it to 11:38am without thinking about him and his naked handcuffed self again.

That’s kind of a progress. 



 

The invitation to the photoshoot is what Yoongi spends his entire Friday night thinking about instead of concentrating on his assignment (due by the following Monday, by the way). Taehyung’s intentions were suddenly not pure, they’re not close enough for that, but Yoongi doesn’t really know why. 

Is Taehyung himself interested in Yoongi? That seems unlikely, unless it’s a recent development because there have been opportunities for them to hook up at parties in the past. 

“Maybe his intentions were pure,” argues Sunmi in a whisper half an hour later when she’s sitting in front of him at the library table. “They were talking, you were there. Maybe he was being polite.” 

“So I shouldn’t go?” 

“Nah, you should.” Sunmi shakes her head, blonde locks covering her face for a moment. “It’d be rude not to.” 

“I should probably ask Namjoon again, tonight. If he’s awake when I go back to the dorm, that is.” 

Sunmi bites down her lip. “You’re so nervous about this, Yoongi. It’s kinda cute.” 

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbles, pushing his textbook towards her, which makes her laugh and someone says shhh very loudly somewhere to their right. “I’m just gay and I miss getting laid.” 

“You also like beefy men,” she adds. 

“Who can pin me down,” he adds. “But I’ll admit, it was very hot to see him trapped like that.” 

“Oh?” Sunmi raises an eyebrow. “You’re so dirty.” 

“Look who’s talking, Miss she called me a slut and I came on the spot .” 

Sunmi places her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles, but that gets them another loud shhh

“I fucking hate you.” 

“You love me.” 

“A little bit, yeah.” Sunmi sighs. “I do like being called a slut.” 

“I know.” 

Sunmi raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “So do you.” 

“On occasion.” Yoongi chuckles while closing his books, deciding it’s best to go back to his dorm before Namjoon falls asleep so he can ask him about the shoot tomorrow. “Talk to you later?” 

“Always.” 

He offers his friend a soft smile, grabs his stuff and turns around to leave. The library isn’t that far away from his dorm’s building, but the walk should give Yoongi enough time to figure out exactly what to say to his roommate. 





Yet, it doesn’t. 

When Yoongi turns the doorknob of his room a few minutes later, he has no idea how to bring up the subject to Namjoon.

His roommate has his glasses on, a book on his hands and a frown between his brows. Not an unusual look for Namjoon. He doesn’t even glance at Yoongi when the other walks in, dropping his bag on the foot of his bag and shrugging off his coat. 

It’s 8:46pm, according to Namjoon’s bedside clock and Yoongi’s not sleepy at all. Which means they’re bound to once again stay in complete silence inside the cubicle of a room the University considers a good enough space for two people to share. Yoongi holds in a sigh as he strips to boxers and pulls on a sweatshirt. 

He could open his laptop and work some more on the assignment due to Monday, but he’s gay, he’s weak, and he desperately needs to know why he was invited to what appears to be a homoerotic photoshoot by people he can call acquaintances at maximum. 

“Nervous for the shoot tomorrow?” The words leave his mouth and he can’t actually believe they did. What the fuck, Min Yoongi

Namjoon doesn’t reply right away, and it takes Yoongi everything in him not to look at his roommate. 

“I, uh,” Namjoon clears his throat. “A little bit. I didn’t– I didn’t think you’d remember.” 

“I was invited,” Yoongi reminds him in the most nonchalant tone he can muster. 

“I didn’t think you remembered that either.” 

Yoongi scoffs. “I wasn’t drunk or high, Namjoon, how’d I forget? It happened just a few days ago.” 

The silence stretches and Yoongi doesn’t have his phone or laptop in hand to at least pretend to be doing something, so he just stares at his own fingers and hopes Namjoon doesn’t notice he feels quite nervous. 

“Are you going?” The younger man asks, voice unsure. 

“I won’t, if you don’t want me to.” Yoongi decides this is the proper time to look at him, feeling his heart speeding up upon the realization Namjoon has closed the book and is staring intently at Yoongi. “You’re the one getting half naked for a camera, after all. I’d guess the less people around, the more comfortable you’ll feel.” 

“You can come.” He says in such a small voice Yoongi’s not sure if he's just shy about it or trying to be polite. “You’ve seen me half-naked in handcuffs already, anyway, it’ll be the same thing.” 

Yoongi can’t hold in the urge to chuckle, so he does, and Namjoon smiles towards him, blushing a bit. 

“You’re full of surprises, Kim Namjoon,” he ends up saying, getting more comfortable on his bed. “Never thought I’d see you posing, let alone in such devious ways.” 

Shut up ,” Namjoon whines, placing his pillow over his face. “I’m doing a friend a favor, okay?” 

“Okay,” Yoongi agrees. He counts fifteen heartbeats before finally deciding to ask. “Why did Taehyung invite me, anyway?” 

Namjoon remains silent and with his face covered by the pillow, Yoongi has no idea what his reaction to the question is. But he waits, he knows Namjoon won’t leave him hanging. 

Then, the younger man mutters, voice kinda muffled by the pillow: 

“I don’t know, he probably thinks I’d feel more comfortable with a friend there.” 

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “I didn’t know we were friends.”

“Tell that to him, Min Yoongi.” Namjoon pulls the pillow off his face and places it back under his head, turning around towards the wall so Yoongi can’t see his expression. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight…” Yoongi continues to stare at Namjoon’s back for quite a while, trying to make up the lines of his body through the overly large shirt, but then he realizes that’s kinda weird, so he forces himself to look away, turning off his night light and deciding falling asleep is the best course of action right now. 

 

 

 

“Are you going to the photoshoot?” 

Yoongi blinks his eyes open, feeling slumber slowly leave his body. Namjoon’s standing in front of him, wet black hair pushed back to show his forehead. He has a maroon bag hanging from his shoulder, and is unsurprisingly wearing one of his large shirts with baggy pants. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi’s groggy voice replies. “Let me just– look more alive.” 

“I’ll go ahead because I have to– prepare.” Namjoon clears his throat, a thin layer of natural blush on his cheeks. “Put on makeup, clothes, and so on.” 

“Alright.” Yoongi yawns, sitting up on the bed. “I’ll see you there.” 

“See you there, hyung.” 

Yoongi’s still half asleep, but that doesn’t stop his mind from starting it’s usual workout of obsessing over Namjoon’s naked boobs with a golden necklace going down his chest as his hands are cuffed to either side of the bed. He’s going to see that again today. Holy fuck. He should probably get up and shower; he doesn’t want to miss anything just because it took him too long to get ready. 





When Yoongi gets to Strike a Pose , Namjoon’s not cuffed to the bed (yet). 

Jeon Jungkook’s in the middle of applying makeup to the other’s eyes, and doesn’t glance at Yoongi when he walks inside, but Taehyung does, almost sprinting towards Yoongi when he pushes the door open. “You’re here!” He exclaims, clapping his hands like a child after they find out they’re eating pizza for dinner. 

“You invited me,” Yoongi replies with a small smile. 

“Yes, I did.” Taehyung winks, and once again, Yoongi’s lost in whatever the fuck the younger man wants out of all of this. “I had this idea last night, hyung, and I’d like you to participate in the photos.” 

“Oh?” Yoongi says at the same time Namjoon basically shouts: “ What? ” 

Taehyung waves him off and continues to look at Yoongi. “I’m going to need your hands, if that’s okay with you. And oh, your arms, too, of course.” 

T aehyung –” Namjoon starts, but is cut off by Jungkook, who begins to apply pink gloss on his lips. 

“This shoot is supposed to be sensual, to show everyone a side of hyung that hasn’t been seen yet, at least not by many…” Taehyung giggles, his fluffy curly brown hair momentarily covering his eyes. “And Jungkookie and I were talking and decided that featuring manly hands on the photos would offer the audience a bigger sense of desire, of being had by someone.” 

“Manly hands,” Yoongi repeats, feeling himself blush. “Uh–”

“You don’t have to do it, of course,” Taehyung rushes to say. “You’re welcome to just stay behind me and watch the shoot. But if you want to be a part of it, you’re more than welcome.” 

Yoongi looks from Taehyung to Namjoon and Jungkook to his own apparently manly hands. He clears his throat. “I guess that’d be… okay.” 

“Oh my god, really?” Taehyung seems surprised he said yes. Yoongi is also surprised he said yes. “That’s awesome, okay, alright, let’s put some chains on those wrists, then.”

He nods, purposefully choosing not to make eye-contact with Namjoon as Taehyung takes him to the other side of the room to try on some bracelets. Yoongi’s heart’s pounding, his mind is running a mile a minute and he honestly has no fucking idea what the hell is he doing, but he will defenitly blame it on the buffy man sitting somewhere behind him getting his makeup done. 

What can he say; he’s weak for muscles. And thick lips. And thick thighs. And apparently dimpled smiles, but that’s a whole new development. 

“He’s ready,” says Jungkook a few minutes later.

“So is he,” says Taehyung after choosing a few silver bracelets and rings to put on Yoongi. “Let’s do this.” 

Yoongi turns around and watches as Namjoon, dressed only in black leather pants and combat boots, walks towards the bed, carefully placed in the middle of the studio, with the handcuffs already trapped to each side, just waiting for his wrists. 

Namjoon doesn’t look at him while he lays on the red velvet sheets, nor when Taehyung starts trapping his wrists. He doesn’t look at Yoongi at all, at any point, focusing his eyes anywhere but where the older man stands waiting to be called. 

There’s this little voice at the back of Yoongi’s mind, feeding him the idea that maybe, maybe, the reason why Taehyung invited him to come is Namjoon. That maybe , even if only a tiny bit, Namjoon has a thing for him. It’s an idea to entertain his ego, Yoongi knows, to bust whatever has been happening inside his mind after he first saw Namjoon handcuffed to the bedpost a few days ago. An idea to feed his ridiculously dirty thoughts of straddling Namjoon’s lap and rocking his hips on the younger man’s until they’re both panting, wanting more, perhaps even begging for more, and–

“Hyung?” Taehyung calls, looking at him with a frown between his eyes. “Are you hearing me?” 

“Sorry.” Yoongi clears his throat. “What did you say?”

Taehyung smirks in a while that makes Yoongi curious and shy at the same time. “I said you can approach the bed and place your fingers around hyung’s neck.” 

What? ” He exclaims, completely caught off guard. He looks between the little menace Kim Taehyung and the half-naked (sort of oiled up?!) Kim Namjoon, and gulps down hard. “I– Uh, are you okay with that?”

Namjoon shrugs, eyes still not meeting his. “I don’t get uncomfortable easily, hyung, I told you that. Besides, it’s all for the art, isn’t it?” 

Yoongi’s not sure what kind of art they’re making here, but he would be lying if he said having his fingers around Namjoon’s throat didn’t excite him a little bit. Well, more than a little bit. 

He walks across the studio, not making eye-contact with any of the men there as he positions himself behind the bed. “What now?” 

“Touch his neck delicately,” instructs Taehyung, camera in hand. “Like you know he’s yours, but you also know he won’t go anywhere.” 

Yoongi has no fucking idea what that’s supposed to mean, but he got himself in this situation willingly, so he’ll just go with the flow. No one else to blame but himself and his weakness for buffy men. 

He touches Namjoon’s neck, feeling his Adam’s apple beneath his fingers and tries his best not to sweat. Namjoon looks at him now, by Taehyung’s instructions, and their eyes meet for what feels like the first time in a very long while. The younger man’s cheeks are pink and his lips are parted and Yoongi has never seen Namjoon look this drop dead gorgeous. 

“Yoongi-hyung, your face won’t show up in the photos, but I like the way Namjoon’s looking at you right now,” Taehyung mutters in the distance. “What do you think, Jungkookie?” 

“Yeah, he’s looking at him like he doesn’t know what to do with himself,” Jungkook’s voice echoes in the room. “That’s some amazing acting, hyung.” 

Yoongi licks his lips, moving his hand along the column of Namjoon’s neck, goosebumps all over his body at the intense stare the other man’s offering him. Acting, Jungkook had said. Yoongi didn’t know that about Namjoon; that he could act. It’s some grade A acting, too, cause otherwise– Well. Enough of feeding his own ego for today. 

“Namjoon, close your eyes,” says Taehyung. “Drop your hand on Yoongi’s arm, pretend your body is on fire, like you’ve never felt this way before. Like you can’t wait to be tamed.” 

Namjoon follows the instructions and once again Yoongi wonders what kind of school project this is. Maybe he should’ve gone into photography instead of music production, or at least taken a class or two. 

“Perfect!” Taehyung exclaims, the click click click of the camera making Yoongi almost as dizzy as having Namjoon’s lips so close to his wrist’s veins. It’s too early in the day for him to be having so many dirty thoughts and the room is definitely not hot enough for sweat to be dripping down his back like it is. “Yoongi-hyung, I just need you for one more thing.”

“Okay,” Yoongi replies, but his voice is so low and his throat is so dry he’s not sure anyone but Namjoon heard him. He licks his lips, pulling his arm away from the younger man, who looks like he’s just woken up from some weird trance. “What do you want me to do?”

“Delicately sink your fingers on Namjoon’s abs,” Taehyung mutters calmly as if he’s telling Yoongi to grab a pack of chicken noodle soup when he goes over to the grocery shop. 

“Excuse me, what ?” Namjoon’s the one to exclaim, trying to sit up on the bed, but that’s factually impossible due to the restraints on both of his wrists. “Is that necessary?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, putting the camera down. “If we’re gonna get in the line of subject of what’s necessary or not, we’ll be here a while, hyung. It’s just art. It’ll look pretty.”

A deafening silence would have followed that line if Park Jimin hadn’t chosen that exact moment to burst through the doors with a bunch of takeout food. He has his blonde hair styled back and a wide smile on his face. “Thought you’d be hungry by now,” he says, and Yoongi immediately remembers Hoseok saying he and Namjoon had hooked up once. 

“So sweet of you, babe.” Taehyung goes over to him and pecks Jimin’s lips. That doesn’t necessarily surprise Yoongi, but he had no idea those two were a thing, but again, he isn’t close enough to any of them, anyway. “We’re just in the middle of getting Yoongi-hyung to put his hands on Namjoon-hyung’s abs.”

“Oh, I got here just in time for all the fun, then,” Jimin clicks his tongue, placing the takeout food he brought with him on the edge of the table, next to Jungkook’s equipment. The smell of chicken fills the room and if Yoongi wasn’t feeling so nervous upon the mere idea of touching Namjoon’s chest (boobs) he’d accept the food. 

“I have to go now,” Jungkook mumbles in the middle of a mouthful of rice. “You promise to close everything up nicely, hyung?”

“I promise, Jungkookie.” Taehyung bows to him dramatically and the younger boy laughs. “Go to class, go study, go be someone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes before turning to Namjoon and Yoongi. “Someone should probably uncuff hyung so he can eat.” He grabs the keys on the table, tossing them to Yoongi and his years of playing basketball come in handy the moment he grabs the object mid-air. “Thanks, hyung. Goodbye, everyone.” 

After Jungkook leaves, Jimin and Taehyung find themselves immersed in conversation and Yoongi clears his throat before unlocking Namjoon’s left wrist. The younger man massages his pulse, and for some inexplicable reason Yoongi really wants to do it for him. He doesn’t, though, because that would be insane and he’s a very sane person. He goes to the other side of the bed instead to uncuff Namjoon’s other wrist. 

“Thank you,” Namjoon says slightly above a whisper, his cheeks just pink enough to make it clear he does feel shy about all of this. “I’m not hungry, though.” 

“Me neither.” Yoongi places the keys on the bed and his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Do you feel weird about this?”

Namjoon offers him a small smile. “What part?” He asks, tilting his head. “Being half-naked and cuffed to a bedpost or waiting until Taehyung has finished eating chicken before he photographs you with your hands on my chest?”

Yoongi takes a second. “All of it?” 

They both laugh; it’s awkward, but heartwarming at the same time. And suddenly, under the sunlight, as he stands at the edge of the bed where Namjoon sits half naked, Yoongi feels a little bold.

“Last night when I asked why Taehyung invited me to this, you came up with a lie pretty fast,” he says, watching Namjoon’s face closely. “Guess you are a great actor, after all.” 

Namjoon doesn’t blush, doesn’t move, he doesn’t even smile. He just stares back at Yoongi for what you’d consider longer than a polite amount of time and then shrugs. “Fuck it, I guess.” Namjoon chuckles. “He thinks I have a thing for you.” 

“A thing,” Yoongi repeats slowly, feeling his heart rate increase. “Well, do you?”

“You wanna know for an ego boost or because you– really wanna know?” 

Yoongi frowns, not sure how to reply to that. He looks behind him, to the men eating chicken standing around the table, completely lost in their own little world, having no idea Kim-fucking-Namjoon just pushed Yoongi against a wall (figuratively - maybe literally if this conversation goes well). 

He travels his eyes back to Namjoon and licks his lips. “I really wanna know,” he replies, lowering his stare to the tanned muscles of Namjoon’s biceps and the way they contrast with the silver necklace hanging until the middle of his chest. “Can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Can’t stop thinking about what?” 

Yoongi looks back up to Namjoon’s eyes. He said that out loud, like a fucking idiot. 

“Uh,” he clears his throat. “You, I guess. Since the d-, that day.”

“Ah,” is all that Namjoon offers him and Yoongi wants both to run out the door and create a hole in the ground so he can reach the Center of the Earth and find out if Jules Verne was right or not. 

“Ah?”

Namjoon bites down his lips, finally offering him blushed cheeks. “I never thought- Well, I didn’t expect you to ever see me like that, so I kinda don’t know what to say.”

“You never don't know what to say.”

“I know.” Namjoon releases his bottom lip (for the sake of Yoongi’s health) and takes a deep breath. “I do have a thing for you, Min Yoongi. I’ve had a thing for you since-,” he stops, shakes his head. “Nope, not gonna boost your ego.”

“You think I have that big of an ego?” Yoongi sits on the bed, right next to where one of Namjoon’s thighs is covered by the black leather pants. “Look just-, ugh, fuck. Namjoon. I’m gonna be extremely honest with you right now, okay?”

“Okay.” Namjoon nods his head fast, completely concentrated in Yoongi and Yoongi only and that makes something inside the other man’s stomach jump. 

Yoongi looks back again, to make sure Jimin and Taehyung are still not paying attention, then turns back to Namjoon and whispers:

“I’d ride you until I couldn’t lift my legs anymore.”

Namjoon’s mouth is open and Yoongi’s cheeks are burning. He has no fucking clue where that came from and he’s not really a pornographic line kind of guy when it comes to moments like this, but it just felt right to let Namjoon know exactly what seeing him half-naked and handcuffed makes Yoongi think. 

“I-” Namjoon starts, but Taehyung hisses a damn it so loud that both of them turn to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“My camera’s dying,” he complains, pouting. “And I didn’t bring the charger.”

“You didn’t bring the charger,” Namjoon repeats. 

Taehyung shakes his head no, appearing to be disappointed. “I’m so stupid, aren’t I, Jiminie?”

“Very,” Jimin agrees, trying his hardest not to laugh. Yoongi narrows his eyes. “I’d get it for you, baby, but I’m already late for my class…” He sighs, then looks over to the bed. “Nice to see you guys, I’ll come by again after class, see if you’ve finished. Bye!”

“Love you,” Taehyung says, pecking Jimin’s lips once again before the other leaves the room. He watches Jimin go and then turns back to the others. “I’ll have to go there to get it, I promise I won’t be long.”

Namjoon sighs heavily. “Why do you always do this?”

“I’m just forgetful, Namjoonie, that’s all!” Taehyung puts his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “But think of it this way: at least this time you’re not handcuffed and once again , you have hyung to keep you company until I return.”

“I hate you,” Namjoon grumbles.

“I love you the most, dearest.” Taehyung blows him a kiss. “I’ll be back soon…” he trails off, looking between the two of them with the same mischievousness he sported in the dorm room a few days ago. “Be good boys.”

“Oh, shut up!” Namjoon shouts as Taehyung closes the door behind him. “He did this on purpose, no doubt about it.”

Yoongi hums, heart thundering against his chest. “Yeah, it seems like he wanted to leave you and I alone.”

“It seems that way,” Namjoon’s voice cracks in that very last word so he clears his throat. He blinks up at the older man and Yoongi thinks it’s nice to be able to see Namjoon’s face in full; he hardly ever wears his hair slicked back like this. And also the makeup . That’s the first time Yoongi has seen the other wearing any and it definitely does something to his heart. And a particular place down below between his thighs. “Like what you see?” 

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, feeling both nervous and thrilled at the prospect of what’s happening right now (what the fuck is happening right now, by the way?). 

“I’d like it better when you were handcuffed.” What? He did not just say that out loud. Yoongi’s heart beats impossibly fast. He should run. Or the hole. Jules Verne is probably waiting. “I– I, wow, sorry about that.” 

“No need to be sorry,” Namjoon mutters, voice sultry. He backs up on the bed and places both of his wrists on either side, close to where the silver cuffs are still trapped to the bedpost. “Just put these back on.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” Namjoon licks his lips. “Cuff me, then sit on my lap.” 

Yoongi blinks several times and resists the urge to pinch his arm to make sure this is not some very delicious pornographic dream he found himself inside. 

“I–” Yoongi takes a step forward. “Sure, absolutely.” 

Namjoon chuckles at that, airly and shyly, and Yoongi has the idea that saying that out loud was also mortifying for Namjoon. 

He locks his left wrist, feeling Namjoon’s eyes on him, then he goes to the other side and does the same to his right wrist. “Done.” Yoongi looks at Namjoon’s lap and bites his lip. “ Fuck .”

“Come on, hyung,” Namjoon asks, eyes now closed. “Before I become too self-conscious of my own horniness and decide I should probably jump off the window.” 

Yoongi smiles. “Okay, Namjoonie.”

“You never called me that before.” 

“Well,” Yoongi starts, moving towards the bed and placing his knees on each side of Namjoon’s body. “I never sat myself on your dick before either, but here we are.” 

“You’re not,” Namjoon says. 

“I’m not what?” Yoongi wonders, tilting his head. 

“Sitting on my dick,” Namjoon explains, a hint of smugness in his tone. “You’re just hovering over me.” 

Yoongi presses his butt down and makes a tiny circular motion, making Namjoon drop any smirk he had on his lips immediately. 

“What about now?” He asks, feeling all sorts of ridiculous, borderline pornographic. “Am I?”

Namjoon makes some sort of affirmative noise and gulps down hard, eyes dropping to Yoongi’s lips. That’s probably a signal Yoongi should lean forward and kiss him, but it never hurts to ask (seriously, it doesn’t, just ask ). 

“Can I kiss you, Namjoonie?” 

Namjoon makes another affirmative noise, a much more eager one this time and Yoongi feels powerful as his mouth stretches in a smile and he leans in to capture the younger man’s lips on his. 

It feels weird, at first. They don’t quite know what the other likes and truth be told, this is a very particular situation. Yoongi, for instance, has never made out with someone in handcuffs before (he’s not that kinky of a person), and he’s also not used to being in control. Namjoon’s trapped to the bedpost, and apparently very happy to follow Yoongi’s lead.

Yoongi slips his tongue between Namjoon’s lips, making the kiss deeper, and the younger man breathes into Yoongi’s mouth in relief. It’s been a few months since the last time Yoongi kissed anyone, he realizes in horror, and for a brief moment he fears he has unlearned how to do it. But if the way Namjoon squirms every time Yoongi pulls his bottom lip between his tells him anything, is that he's still got it. 

The kiss manages to get deeper, wilder, with Yoongi sitting prettily on Namjoon’s lap, and after Namjoon’s rocks his hips up against Yoongi’s ass, the older man loses any concept of time and space he previously held. “Fuck,” he whispers, breaking the kiss to kiss down Namjoon’s exposed neck, enjoying every broken, pleasured sound that comes out of the younger’s lips.

“Uncuff me, hyung, please,” Namjoon so much as begs, and that makes Yoongi feel even more powerful as he rocks back down on Namjoon’s clothed hardening cock. “Wanna touch you, I- I need to touch you.”

“Where do you wanna touch me?” Yoongi sucks a bruise on Namjoon’s shoulder, feeling like he's seventeen again, with hormones floating and the desperate need to feel . “Tell me.”

“Everywhere.”

That makes Yoongi shiver and his body grow hotter. He kisses Namjoon full on the mouth again, gulping down every moan and every plea the other offers him. Yoongi rocks his ass down harder, wondering if he can make Namjoon come like this, if he can make the other man want him so badly that he’d just spill all over his black leather pants. 

“You really want me to uncuff you, Namjoonie?” Yoongi asks, lips against his ear. “I can do whatever you want, babe.”

“Please, I wanna t-touch you.”

“Okay, I’ll- find the keys.”

Yoongi gets out of Namjoon’s lap (to his displeasure) and after a couple tense minutes looking for them, grabs the keys near the foot of the bed. He starts to uncuff both of the younger man’s wrists, blushing at the way Namjoon’s hungry eyes follow his every movement, and then, when Yoongi has barely put the keys down again, Namjoon pulls him back to bed, kissing him like that’s the only thing that has ever mattered. 

He rocks his hardening cock against Yoongi, and the older man feels a wave of pleasure wash through him, a wave that would be much stronger if they just– 

“Take off your pants,” he mumbles against Namjoon’s lips, hands flying to the first button of Namjoon’s tight leather pants. 

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon replies, fumbling to open Yoongi’s buttons as Yoongi fumbles even harder to open his. “God, we’re terrible.” 

Yoongi chuckles airly, body burning with desire snapping out of it’s trance for just a second. He finally manages to get the two buttons open and Namjoon helps him put the pants down just enough so his cock’s freed. 

“No underwear?” Yoongi comments, unable to take his eyes off Namjoon’s cock. 

“With these pants?” Namjoon sighs, trying to pull Yoongi’s pants and underwear down. “You try it.” 

“Maybe later.” Yoongi pulls him down for a searing kiss, and soon enough they’re back at rocking against each other, this time with no layer of clothing between them. 

Namjoon puts his hand between their bodies and spreads the beams of come along both of their hard lengths, and Yoongi moans like a teenage gay boy having his very first experience. He places his legs around Namjoon’s hips and allows himself to feel. 

He feels Namjoon’s fist around both of their cocks, bringing both of them closer and closer to their breaking point. He feels Namjoon’s lips on his neck, his tongue on his clavicle. He feels his fingers tangled on Namjoon’s once upon a time perfectly styled hair, pulling at it just enough to make the other man moan. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Namjoon pants against Yoongi’s lips. “You’re so fucking hot, hyung.” 

Yoongi would reply, if he could speak anything coherent right now. All that comes out of his mouth are ridiculously high-pitched moans and breathless pleas for more , harder

“Sound so beautiful,” Namjoon whispers, scraping his teeth on Yoongi’s jaw. “You’re shaking.” 

Yoongi knows. He– fuck, he’s so close. He puts his hand on top of Namjoon’s, so they can fist their cocks together. It’s not hard to find a rhythm, with how turned on they both feel. Yoongi thrills on the sensation of his fingers around Namjoon’s heavy, hot cock and his own heavy, slightly veiner one. 

He opens his eyes, locks Namjoon’s frowns and slack open mouth inside his memories and comes with a tiny moan, cum dirtying both their hands and shirts. 

“So beautiful,” Namjoon whispers, fist milking Yoongi for all he’s worth. “Does it hurt, do you want me to stop?” 

Yoongi shakes his head. “Cum– cum over me, please, just– just do it, Namjoon.” 

“Fuck.” Namjoon lets go of Yoongi’s cock and fists himself harder. Yoongi watches for a few seconds, trying to regain his breath, then he pulls Namjoon’s hand away and closes his fingers around the hard cock. “Fuck, hyung.” 

“Are you close?” Yoongi wonders, marvelling in both the expression on Namjoon’s face as he hovers over him and the sounds he makes as Yoongi brings him close to his orgasm. 

“Yeah, don’t s-stop.” 

“I would never.” It sounds like a promise, even though Yoongi only intended it to be– well, he’s not sure what he intended it to be. “Cum for me, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon curses again, leaning down to press his lips against Yoongi’s as his body shakes and he cums, making Yoongi slow down the pace so he can feel it at its fullest. The younger man kisses Yoongi harder, and they stay like that for a few minutes, Yoongi thinks. It could’ve been seconds, or hours. 

He did completely lose the perception of time, after all.

“We should clean ourselves,” Namjoon says at some point. “Taehyung could be back at any minute.” 

Yoongi scuffs. “He’s not coming back until he gets a text from either of us with an all clear .” He opens his eyes to look at Namjoon, whose head is resting just next to his. “All of this was a calculated move on his part.” 

“We should thank him, then.” 

“We should.” Yoongi leans in to peck Namjoon’s lips once more, then he sits up. “Come on, there’s a bedroom right over there, let’s clean this mess.” 

He stands up, but Namjoon stays right where he is, looking at Yoongi with an expression it will take the older man a few months of fast handjobs and sloppy kisses between classes to understand. 

“Aren’t you standing up, too?” Yoongi wonders. “You’re the unravelled model here.” 

Namjoon nods, a satiated smile on his lips. “Only if you promise to let me suck you off tonight.” 

Yoongi rolls his eyes, blushing heavily with a stupid smile on his face and an expression it will take Namjoon a few months of late night fucking and pleads for faster and rougher to understand. 

“I promise,” Yoongi says, having no idea that promise will lead to many others, and to a feeling he’s never quite felt before. “Now, stand up.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

They go to the bathroom and clean themselves, then Namjoon texts Taehyung to come back to the studio, and the man isn’t graceful enough not to bring up the messy sheets or the fucked out expression on both of their faces. 

And Yoongi watches as Namjoon excels at playing model for the rest of the afternoon, with 10% of his brain thinking about the essay he has to write due to Monday, and the other 90% of it daydreaming about that blowjob he was promised for later.