#so rusty...

“Bed. Let’s go to the bed.”

Taehyung doesn’t dare protest, alternatively choosing to touch their foreheads together, blunt nails dragging against Namjoon’s nape.

“I was scared you’d never ask.”

He observes the visceral reaction, Namjoon shivering from the brazen confession. Perhaps Taehyung should feel bad too, for knowingly pulling every string he could and going so far as to snap them if need be. However, Taehyung reminds himself that he has been enduring this tension for far too long, Namjoon ever the gentleman, loyal and virtuous, and frustratingly modest.

Fingers firmly hooked around empty belt loops, Taehyung pulls Namjoon’s hips against his own, the older stumbling forward to finally slip out of his black dress shoes. Taehyung catches the taller body against his, murmuring discreetly into Namjoon’s collarbone.

“Hyung, I want you inside me.”

And fuck anyone who’d judge him for wanting to at last break past Namjoon’s self-imposed wall.

A faint growl rushes past his ears and Taehyung gnaws his lip in anticipation, only to find himself gasping for the second time that day. Hands tightly grip his thighs, the pinch enough to bring blood rushing to the surface, and Taehyung’s feet are lifted from the floor. Instinctively, his arms loop around Namjoon’s neck as he’s carried upwards, falling back into soft sheets mere seconds later. Thank god his apartment is small and more so, thank god he decided to fit a custom queen sized bed in the place.

Namjoon crawls over him and Taehyung can’t help but smile, smile into their kiss, smile at the twin dimples on his partner’s cheeks.