Chapter Text
“Wow,” Yoongi pants, giggling. “We sure made a mess of me, didn’t we?”
The glow of his monitor feels too bright in his otherwise dark bedroom, and he can hardly make sense of the flood of messages that come through on the chat, only paying attention to the tokens that continue to flood in, chiming loud and obnoxious. Cum drips from his fist, which still lightly grips his spent, softening cock, and Yoongi does his best to catch his breath.
Beside him, a thrusting dildo continues to dance along the deep blue comforter, rocking back and forth, in and out, red silicon slick with lube. Tonight, Yoongi shoved it in with very little prep while begging the invisible perpetrator not to fuck his tight, virgin hole. Yoongi's fans love it when he simulates non-consenting scenarios; they pay almost double the amount of tokens.
For as long as he has been performing on camera for strangers, Yoongi has been subjected to the attention of a lot of sick fucks. Many of them love to hide behind their anonymous usernames and tell him how pretty he would look begging them to stop, and how much they would love to choke him until he vomits, then fuck his messy little mouth hole. Sometimes they even fantasize over chat about how angelic he would look stuffed with their cock while the light dies behind his eyes, waxing poetic over the size of a vat they would need to store him in – how pretty his pale skin would look preserved in formaldehyde.
Yoongi doesn’t mind, not really. In fact, most of the rape and death threats excite him. As long as nobody really knows where he lives, he is safe to encourage all the nasty, irreprehensible things they want to do to him. He has no tattoos for anyone to identify him by, he wears wigs and enough makeup to make himself look like someone new every week, and he keeps his voice flat, stripped of any noticeable dialect. He may as well be a ghost.
“I need to get my beauty sleep,” Yoongi announces sweetly as he wipes his hand onto the towel that is draped over the edge of his bed. “Same time next Wednesday. I hope all you naughty little monsters have nightmares! Until we meet again.”
With a plastered smile, Yoongi leans forward and ends the stream. Then he sighs and slouches forward, feeling exhausted, and pulls the bright orange bob-cut wig from his head, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. The motor of the thrusting dildo continues to whir in the otherwise quiet space, and he reaches for the toy and presses on the power button to shut it off.
Yoongi enjoys his weekly cam shows, but lately, things at work have been so busy, that by the time he is finished with entertaining depraved usernames and their credit cards, he feels the weight of the world pressing heavily on his shoulders.
Just two more days, he tells himself, running the cleaner of his two hands through his sweaty bleach blond hair. Once the new trainee is all set up and helping rather than hindering production, Yoongi can return to things as normal, and no longer put in long nights and early mornings. Just two more days.
Yoongi heaves a sigh as he stands and makes his way to the bathroom. He hovers in the doorway after flicking on the light, swaying slightly from exhaustion, finding himself faced with a choice. He can either rinse the sweat and cum from his withered body and scrub away the smeared makeup now, and then climb into bed, or he can empty his bladder and stumble back into the warmth of his comforter, making the shower tomorrow's problem.
After some thought – or, rather, time spent staring at the tan faux marble countertop of his sink – Yoongi shuffles over to the toilet, leans a forearm into a wooden cabinet perched above it, and lets his head fall against his arm, huffing out a satisfied groan as his stream of piss hits the white ceramic of his toilet bowl. Tomorrow. He can take his chances with waking up on time and showering tomorrow.
○ ◌ ◌ ◌
To say Yoongi's new trainee is weird is an understatement. At first, Yoongi thought it was simply shyness – long, wistful glances and a strange cock of the head, swaying his face ever so slightly left to right at times, when he thinks and speaks, humming to himself and fidgeting with his fingers in front of him. But as the guy became more comfortable in his new position over the span of two and a half weeks, the behavior continued. In fact, he seems to act this way specifically whenever Yoongi is around.
Often, Yoongi finds the guy watching him. And not in the way that a trainee watches someone perform tasks so they can dutifully learn their new responsibilities. He watches Yoongi when he has conversations with others, in person and on the phone. He watches Yoongi when he enters and exits a room, and while Yoongi is attempting to explain something to him, he keeps his eyes focused more on Yoongi's face than on the task. No matter what he is doing, the guy's eyes seem to find his face. Often, when Yoongi speaks to him, it seems like the guy just stares at his mouth.
This does not happen all the time, but enough for Yoongi to take notice. Just like he notices the soft, measured way in which the guy speaks to him, but not to anyone else. Almost as if there is something secret and sacred just for Yoongi that the others are not invited to be privy to.
Or, maybe it is just all the weird attention Yoongi has been getting online pouring into his day-to-day life and making him lose his fucking mind. The people who watch his cam streams have become increasingly weird. Two users, in particular, have been sending him strange messages that he has not been able to get out of his mind, and for some reason, the same chill that runs up his spine when he notices their screen names pop into his notifications is the feeling he has when his coworker is present. It is uncomfortable to the point of Yoongi only really thinking about the guy, and mentioning him to his friends, as "the new coworker" and never by name.
Of course, the new coworker has a name. Kim Taehyung. A pretty name for a pretty man, strange as he may be.
Taehyung has bright red hair that stands out in any room, and honey-toned skin, which he lets hints of peek through two or three buttons from his collar, which are always undone, never bothering to wear a tie. The office they work in allows for a more laid back attire, so nobody seems to mind, but Yoongi does mind because the way he thinks about Taehyung's hints of skin and pretty, rectangular mouth that always seems slightly downturned and a bit sad, are conflicting to the way he thinks about Taehyung's personality and demeanor.
Today, Taehyung wears a light blue button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and the top three buttons undone. Silver chains and bracelets draw the eye to his hint of clavicle and delicate wrists, and Yoongi – head to toe in black with his white hair falling slightly into his eyes – does his best not to notice.
As the two of them convene in front of Yoongi's desk and he powers his computer on for the day, Taehyung hums softly, presumably to himself. Instinctively, Yoongi tilts his head slightly upward so the hair falls from his eyes, giving him an unobstructed glance at Taehyung, who is only a few inches taller but has a presence that seems to loom over Yoongi.
"Late night?" Taehyung asks softly, eyes burning with something white-hot and indiscernible.
Yoongi shrugs, lies, "Couldn't really sleep," and turns back to his computer.
Taehyung seems to accept the response, humming once more, but this time more purposefully. As the software loads on his screen, Yoongi takes a seat, waits for Taehyung to pull up a chair, and continues to talk him through various parts of their daily tasks, business as usual. He does his best to push away how Taehyung's eyes drift to his lips while his expression is curious, almost to the point of seeming hungry, and when lunchtime comes around, Yoongi ducks out to find a food cart and get some fresh air.
Despite how casual their interactions are, something about his coworker just sets off alarm bells inside Yoongi's head, filling him with the familiar dread he has felt lately, from his two most eager followers. He shakes his hands out as he hurries to the elevator, letting out a sigh of relief to find that Taehyung has not only opted not to follow him, but he is nowhere in sight when Yoongi scans the surroundings past the silver elevator doors, which glide shut.
Although Yoongi only does one scheduled cam show per week – otherwise popping in infrequently at random, when he is feeling particularly needy – he tends to receive a fair share of messages from fans. And, when they pay him to, he responds to those messages throughout the week.
That was how things began with both users Moni and Vante, his highest-paying customers. Both men began sending him praise and paying fairly good money for bespoke content – short text conversations, selfies, nudes, and brief videos of him touching himself. They even share images of their own clothed erections from time to time as a means to praise Yoongi for the effect he had on them, showering him with affection and even sending gifts from his online wish list of new toys and outfits to use and wear on cam.
But then, things began to take a turn.
In recent months, messages would pop up from Moni that were a lot more personal, asking where Yoongi went to school, what he did for work, and whether he has a partner. They were always framed in a way that suggested Moni felt entitled to the answers because he pays Yoongi a great deal for his company. Yoongi would deflect the questions and try to steer the conversation away, but Moni would push for more information and seem unsatisfied when Yoongi would lie.
Then, Moni began to send things like, "The glow of your laptop screen is much prettier on your skin through your window."
This, of course, made Yoongi panic. Despite living in a third-floor apartment and keeping his blinds pulled shut while he was on cam, he began to feel uncomfortable anytime the blinds were open.
Since that night, every now and then, he has the urge to glance out the window, trying to find any trace of someone watching him, but never has any such luck. The city he lives in is busy, and there are apartment buildings lining the blocks; rows and rows of windows, and shade from various greenery, awnings, and other obstructions. If someone were watching Yoongi, it could be difficult to tell.
Despite this behavior, Yoongi does not feel the need to block Moni. For one thing, he really does pay a large amount of money for his time, and Yoongi does not want to lose out on such a high-paying customer. And, considering his fans have a habit of saying dark, unhinged shit, Yoongi feels like those interactions, like all of the interactions with his fans, are just part of the game.
Lately, within the last three or so weeks, messages from Moni have slowed to a near halt, coming infrequently and not being nearly as personal – I miss you and do you think of me, laced with compliments about how pretty Yoongi looked last time he was on cam. Oddly enough, as Moni's correspondences began to slow, messages from Vante began to increase.
Vante has always been very sweet with compliments, especially about the shapes of Yoongi's eyes and his "pretty pink lips," comparing him to soft kittens and fresh sakura blossoms. And, at first, Yoongi welcomed the praises, finding himself blushing and even feeling a giddy race of his heart whenever a notification from Vante would come in.
But then, Vante would message in the middle of a work day, saying, "I bet blues really bring out the pretty flush of your pale skin," on a day when Yoongi was wearing a blue shirt, or, "You're so soft like a dumpling, I could just eat you right up," while Yoongi happened to be sitting on a park bench during his lunch hour, having dumplings from his favorite food cart.
Whenever messages like this come, Yoongi chalks it up to coincidence, but he always finds himself unable to shake the discomfort, removing himself from wherever he happens to be, when possible, and checking over his shoulder more times than he would care to admit. And with the addition of Taehyung's stares in the office as of lately, the anxiety has only begun to increase, making Yoongi feel unsettled both at work and at home.
Today, a chill runs up Yoongi's spine as he passes the dumpling cart, instead going for some tteokbokki. He gets a to-go container and grips the bag tightly in one hand, choking the handles as he walks back to the office with his other hand shoved into the front pocket of his slacks. When his phone buzzes against his thigh, he startles, trembling between the shoulders and letting out a deep, exasperated sigh.
The odds of the message coming from one of his two so-called admirers and not one of his friends is pretty low, and yet, something settles deep in Yoongi's guts, bubbling like acid and making him dizzy as he slumps his shoulders forward and heads back into his office building. To his surprise and delight, Taehyung is nowhere around the small, cubicled space, and he throws himself into his worn, leather chair that creaks and sighs beneath him, then he heaves out a sigh as he begins to haphazardly tear away the plastic bag for the white foam box of sweet and spicy heaven.
About halfway through his meal, Yoongi's phone buzzes again. His hands tremble, and he reaches reluctantly for his pocket, sliding his fingertips past fabric and hovering over the cold, glass screen before gripping onto the device and pulling it out. When he thumbs his screen on, he finds two messages – the most recent from Moni, and the one that came in about five minutes ago from his best friend Hoseok.
The name Moni on his screen makes his heart thump heavily in his chest. Despite wanting to ignore him and see what Hoseok has sent, Yoongi finds himself opening the top notification and bending in on himself to cover the flash of the cam service app when its logo-clad loading page shines brightly on his screen, despite nobody else being around.
When he opens his inbox, he notices a few things. The first is that both Moni and Vante have a little green dot beside their profile pictures, indicating they are online. The second is that both Moni and Vante have changed their profile photos from generic images to something that looks more authentic.
In Vante's photo, all you can really see is his chest, but the buttons of white his shirt are undone enough to show hints of tan skin and toned muscle, and his nipples are hard beneath the thin fabric. Moni's photo is a closeup of lips. Pouty and soft, with the blunt edges of teeth pressing into the bottom one, giving an enticing, crooked pout. Yoongi wonders, just for a moment, what it would be like to have those lips on his skin, leaving pretty pink and purple bruises, and he hovers his thumb uselessly over the unread message in his inbox, struggling to tear his eyes away.
"Tteokbokki, huh?" the deep, almost sultry timber of Taehyung's voice pulls Yoongi from his thoughts, causing him to drop his phone in a loud clatter against his desk.
"Oh," Taehyung continues with a chuckle, voice coming closer, from somewhere behind him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
There is something...off about Taehyung's demeanor, and Yoongi glances up, almost uncertain that it really is the same Taehyung standing before him. But he looks just as he had earlier – the very same man Yoongi scurried away from at the start of his lunch break – so it must be him. Then Yoongi realizes that what is strange is that nothing actually seems to be wrong or eerie with Taehyung; no hushed, gentle tone or creepy, eager stare. It is the fact that he seems perfectly normal that irks Yoongi.
"Y-yeah," Yoongi finally answers, turning his phone face-down on the desk despite the screen having automatically gone black. "I really like the cart just at the end of the block."
Taehyung hums and begins to walk past, out of the open office area and toward the hallway where the break room, bathrooms, and other offices can be accessed from.
"I'll have to try it sometime," he says over his shoulder on his way out, and Yoongi nods, watching the man go, then he drops his eyes to his desk before turning in his chair and glancing around the room. There is only one entrance and exit in this office; how did Yoongi not notice Taehyung before he had made his presence known? Had Yoongi been so focused on his phone that he failed to see Taehyung enter and walk right past?
Unease settles like a brick in Yoongi's throat, and he attempts to swallow it down, feeling suddenly too uneasy to finish his meal, and too dazed to check the messages on his phone.
○ ○ ◌ ◌
"Weird, how?" Hoseok asks through Yoongi's screen, which Yoongi has perched between his thumb and his forefinger, wrist anchored on his bent knee as he sits in a ball in the corner of his soft, brown hand-me-down couch. Hoseok appears to be laying in bed with his arm extended above his face, giving Yoongi the impression of floating above him.
"Just...everything about him," Yoongi utters as a yawn works its way up from his chest and throat, widening his mouth and causing tears to prickle his eyes. On the screen, Hoseok yawns, as well. "I thought before that he was just being shy because he was new, but...I don't know, he just uses a weird tone of voice when he speaks to me. And he still stares at me. When I was leaving today, as I was handing some files over to the secretary and giving her my usual pleasantries, he was standing by the water cooler while our boss was mid-conversation with him, just watching me."
"Maybe he has a crush on you," Hoseok unhelpfully supplies with a waggle of his eyebrows.
"God, I hope not," Yoongi mutters. "I mean...the guy is hot. That's what makes it even more unsettling. Why is a hot guy so weird? He could easily mask his personality or simply have none, that's how fucking good looking this man is. Shit, I would definitely be trying to fuck him if he was normal."
"Already fantasizing about dipping the pen in the company ink, hmm?" Hoseok asks in the same playful tone, making Yoongi roll his eyes.
"That expression is so weird."
Hoseok chuckles, eyes becoming pretty little moons as he says, "It really is."
After a pause in which Yoongi inadvertently replays every strange interaction the two of them have ever had, Hoseok asks, "What about the company mixer tomorrow night?"
Yoongi had forgotten about that. And, of course, Taehyung will be invited.
"Shit," Yoongi mutters under his breath.
"I could be your plus one," Hoseok suggests, but Yoongi shakes his head.
"We are not having a repeat of last time," he grumbles, thinking back to the last company party where there was a karaoke machine, and Hoseok decided to sing My Heart Will Go On while standing on the hors d'oeuvres table, nearly getting both of them kicked out of the hotel banquet hall. "I can handle this myself."
"Alright," Hoseok responds with raised brows, clearly not certain Yoongi can handle it himself. "But if you need any reinforcements, call me in."
Yoongi rolls his eyes, conceding to his best friend.
"Alright, I will."
○ ○ ○ ◌
Friday's shift in the office comes and goes without a hitch. Taehyung's behavior is so normal – voice so clear and standard, the way he speaks to everyone else – that Yoongi spends the first few hours of the day on edge, and the rest of the time more or less forgetting that the guy ever rubbed him the wrong way.
He even invites Taehyung down to the dumpling truck with him over lunch, and they have pleasant conversation about this and that, including mention of Taehyung's partner, who he says very little about other than that he is a college professor, and he will be at the mixer later in the evening.
By the time he clocks out for the day, Yoongi is actually looking forward to meeting Taehyung's partner and getting to know the two of them a little better. Although news of a partner foils his loosely-made plan to potentially try to hook up with the guy – an urge that only strengthens now that he can tell he has a normal side to him – he is also fine with the prospect of having a new friend around the otherwise bleak office.
With about an hour until the company party begins at a bar just down the street from the office, Yoongi returns home quickly to change. He is unsure why he has the urge to dress up a little for this thing, but Taehyung's change in demeanor has given him a hopeful outlook and a strange spark of confidence, and he wants to look nice for whoever his partner happens to be. He wants to make a good impression.
As soon as he gets home, Yoongi peels out of his black button-up and stands in front of his closet with his hands on his hips, wearing a tight black tee tucked into his black slacks. He has a choice to make. Admittedly, he has a lot of black, and he stares into his closet feeling a strange mix of overwhelmed and underwhelmed, all at once.
Yoongi
SOS I want to look presentable for this work thing.
Hoseok
Oh? What has transpired?
Yoongi
Taehyung was very...normal today. Before you get too excited, he has a partner, who will also be present tonight. But, I don't know, I would like to make a good impression.
Hoseok
Partner as in...is he gay?
Yoongi
I guess?
Hoseok
And you want to look nice because you wanna unicorn them?
Yoongi
No? Maybe? I don't know. I haven't met Taehyung's partner.
Hoseok
Incredible that Taehyung is hot enough that one normal day can make you forget about almost three weeks of weird days.
Yoongi
Shut up and tell me what to wear.
Hoseok
Other than black?
Yoongi
Or...black that is not my usual button-ups.
Hoseok
A nice sweater under a black blazer? With your thick-rimmed glasses? Bitches love the thick-rimmed glasses.
Yoongi
That they do. Thanks!
Hoseok
No problem. Let me know how things go!
Yoongi
Will do.
Although Yoongi's hair is short enough for his undercut to show beneath, the front is just long enough to get into his eyes, and he uses some product on the ends of his fingers to part his bangs over his forehead and twist some of the hair out of the way. Yoongi decides to pull a dark blue sweater on, over which he puts a black blazer, as Hoseok recommended. Then he finishes with his thick-rimmed square glasses and heads back to the office party.
About halfway to the bar, Yoongi begins to feel a little self-conscious. What if everyone else left work and went over to the bar without changing like he did? Will anyone notice? Will they make a big thing over it?
Yoongi parks in the lot behind the bar and notes that quite a few people do seem to have gone back home and changed, to his relief. He gives himself a moment to sit in his car to gather his thoughts before going inside. Generally, these kinds of events are not his favorite, and he tends to easily get tired from being part of a crowd, leaving within the first hour. That was, before the office had a hot new hire – albeit one who has a partner, who Yoongi may also meet, tonight.
As Yoongi rests his head back against the headrest of his seat and closes his eyes to take in a few deep, fortifying breaths, his phone vibrates. He lets out his breath with a huff of a chuckle, and shakes his head, assuming it is Hoseok already messaging for gossip. However, when he glances at his screen, he finds a message from Moni.
Nervousness drops to Yoongi's guts as he sees one new message waiting for him, realizing that he never read Moni's message from yesterday. It is unlike Yoongi to not respond quickly, especially to his high-paying customers, and his hands tremble as he thumbs through his screen to open the notification. Both messages are innocuous enough, but they still make Yoongi a bit anxious.
Moni
I miss you, pretty kitten. Work has gotten busy, but in the moments I have free, I think of you. Do you think of me?
Moni
:( No response in over 24 hours? My kitten hasn't found someone else to shower him with attention, has he?
Yoongi swallows a lump and responds as quickly as he can, hoping that his excuse is good enough that Moni will want to continue paying for his time.
GlossyBoy
Sorry, Moni, baby! Your message came in while I was at work, and I was busy and forgot to respond. Long week. I do think about you often, and I am happy to hear from you! <3
It only takes a few seconds for Moni to respond.
Moni
Awe, there you are. Apology accepted, baby. I understand; a busy week at the office can be really draining.
Fear spikes as Yoongi's eyes rove over the words at the office over and over again. Does Moni know he works in an office? Is this another of many unsettling coincidences? Yoongi has never told him that he works in an office; he deflects Moni's inquiries and attempts not to divulge even that much detail, minor as it may seem. Are the odds just too great that a Korean male in his late 20s would be working in an office? Is Moni simply speaking from a statistical standpoint?
Yoongi realizes he is spiraling when his phone screen goes black, showing himself wide-eyed and hunched over it. The device slips from his clammy fingers, onto his lap, and he lets out a long, shaky breath, attempting to compose himself. He wonders if maybe he should restart the ignition and go back home. Perhaps Taehyung and his partner will understand whatever excuse he finds to not be there tonight.
A black mass covers Yoongi's driver's side window, casting a shadow over him, but he is too far in his head to comprehend it until there is a light rapping of knuckles against the glass. Yoongi jumps, ripped from his thoughts, and he gasps as he turns quickly, leaning toward the center console, only to find Taehyung standing just outside the door with his head cocked to the side and his tuft of red hair glowing in the setting sun.
"Fuck," Yoongi mutters under his breath, squeezing his eyes closed momentarily before straightening out and moving to get out of the car.
Taehyung takes a few steps back, along with the man standing beside him, who Yoongi has yet to process the appearance of, and Yoongi gets out of the car, gripping his phone in his right hand while he wipes his sweaty left hand down the side of his blazer before slamming the door shut. He slides his phone into his pocket, then realizes his keys are in his car and opens the door, bends in, pulls them from the ignition, then closes and locks the door, shoving the keys into the pocket of his blazer. For all he knows, the car beeped incessantly as soon as he opened the door the first time to notify him that the keys remained inside, and it went completely unnoticed.
Feeling entirely too awkward, Yoongi clears his throat and turns back to the men. The sight of the two of them standing side by side nearly makes Yoongi jump out of his skin, and he finds himself quickly blinking several times as he attempts to get his bearings and make introductions.
Taehyung wears a black blazer encrusted with gold sequins over a black shirt that has pointed black lapels sticking out over the collar of the jacket, and a red and black tie hangs loosely around his neck with a knot that is low enough that his usual expanse of golden skin is on full display. In one ear is a gaudy red earring surrounded by clear gems, and the outfit is completed with very tight black jeans and chelsea boots. Taehyung's almond eyes appear wide and curious, especially with a dusting of dark shadow around the very edges, making them stand out, and his mouth is set straight, lips ever so slightly turned into a frown.
The man beside Taehyung is just as stunning. He stands about the same height as Taehyung, maybe slightly taller, and his hair is lightened to a silver that almost shines a soft, lilac purple in the sun. He wears a black and tan modern hanbok top with dotted and floral designs, and tight denim pants with black doc martens. The man has the eyes of a dragon and prominent cheekbones, but it is his lips that draw Yoongi's attention – full and soft, and perfectly kissable – and Yoongi wonders how in the hell two of the most beautiful men he has ever laid eyes on somehow ended up together.
Taehyung's partner gives Yoongi a soft smile, causing a dimple to delicately dent his cheek, and Yoongi nearly melts on the spot. The look on Taehyung's partner's face is hard to read, but there appears to be interest in his eyes and something akin to admiration mixed in as he takes in Yoongi's appearance. Which, Yoongi thinks, is strange, considering he is the one to be admired, stunning as he is.
Only seconds pass, but they feel as if each has been stretched to an eternity as Yoongi attempts to find what to say. Taehyung breaks the ice, thankfully, holding an open palm toward his partner and saying, "This is Namjoon-hyung," before extending his palm toward Yoongi and saying, "and this is my coworker Yoongi-ssi."
For the first time, the formality makes Yoongi feel awkward, and he clears his throat, muttering, "You can call me hyung," attempting to ignore the pretty way Taehyung's eyes brighten, as he turns to Namjoon and bows, muttering, "It is nice to meet you, Namjoon-ssi."
They iron out the details of age, and Yoongi allows Namjoon to also call him hyung, despite just meeting him. Truth be told, he feels in a bit of a daze as they all turn toward the bar and make their way through the parking lot, with Yoongi leading the way through a back entrance.
Yoongi thinks he can hear the two of them muttering behind him, picking up low chuckles and hums and having trouble differentiating whose baritone the sound is coming from. As he holds open the door for the two of them, Taehyung uses the hand that is slung over Namjoon's shoulder to prop the door open and nods to Yoongi to continue first, so Yoongi does so, turning away with a feeling of something heavy in his guts.
Is it jealousy? Yoongi has no reason to feel jealous; until today, he has found Taehyung's presence so unnerving, it seems ridiculous to suddenly be harboring a crush for the man. Perhaps it is just the connection that the two of them seem to have that has Yoongi feeling a deep yearning. They are both stunning – the most attractive men in the building by a long shot – and in the brief moments Yoongi has watched the two of them interact, they seem to have a very comfortable attraction.
Taehyung seems quite touchy. As they enter the space – well-lit with golden sconces and chandeliers, garish gold and white wallpaper, tall ceilings, and dark wood bar tops and furniture – Yoongi turns to ask if they would like to get a drink and finds Taehyung's fingertips in Namjoon's hair at the nape of his neck.
And, as soon as Yoongi asks, he feels silly. What else is there to do at the moment but drink? Staff appear to be setting out a buffet of food on a far table, and other than waiting to eat, the only thing there is to really do, is drink.
"Drinks sound good," Taehyung responds, voice low and soft, a familiar timber and cadence that sends a chill up Yoongi's spine.
Namjoon breaks from Taehyung's hold and approaches the bar beside Yoongi. Yoongi detects the feeling of a hand gently resting against the small of his back, and he turns to find Namjoon's arm hovering behind him as they close the short distance to the counter. To Yoongi's surprise, Namjoon does not move his hand away as they wait, and, in a moment of panic, he worries what Taehyung may think, turning to find Taehyung standing with his shoulder leaned against a large, round column a few feet back with his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow lifted.
The sound of the bartender asking what they would like pulls Yoongi's attention, and he clears his throat before ordering a scotch neat, only glancing at the rows of bottles before making a choice. Since the company covers the tab, he picks one close to the top row. Namjoon mutters something low to the bartender that Yoongi misses, then turns his attention to Yoongi, hand still hovering in place at the small of his back.
"Scotch neat?" Namjoon asks with a wide grin and curious eyes. "My, aren't you full of surprises?"
Something in Namjoon's tone – or maybe it is his gaze, or probably it is a culmination – unsettles Yoongi, and he finds himself dropping his eyes to the rich wood countertop.
"Yeah, I'm a simple man," he mutters, embarrassed by how pathetic he sounds.
Namjoon leans close, warm breath ghosting Yoongi's skin as he says, "Refined is the word I was thinking of," and Yoongi finds himself flinching in the opposite direction, leaving behind the warmth of Namjoon's hovering hand, which he slowly raises to pick up two brown mixed drinks that the tender sets before him. Yoongi blinks away the urge to space out and overthink absolutely everything as he grabs his drink and turns back to Taehyung.
One of their coworkers, a woman who works in the same office space, in a nearby cubicle, appears to be attempting to make small talk with Taehyung, whose eyes are glued to Yoongi. The woman smiles brightly, eyes shimmering as she leans in to say something that Taehyung merely scoffs at and essentially blows off, and when Yoongi and Namjoon approach, Taehyung steps in to take his drink, smiling at Namjoon and regarding him as if the woman does not exist at all. Yoongi almost feels bad as disappointment tugs on her features and she turns away, ponytail flying behind her in the swift movement.
"Thanks, darling," Taehyung coos sweetly as he leans in to give Namjoon a kiss on the cheek.
Namjoon smiles, dimples impressing deep, and he leans to mutter something to Taehyung. The moment feels too intimate, but Yoongi finds he cannot tear his eyes away, and he lifts his glass to his lips and tastes the smooth, bittersweet liquor. Then, Taehyung's gaze flits back to Yoongi – piercing and curious – making Yoongi avert his eyes and take in the room around them, which is beginning to fill with coworkers, doing his best not to look back at Taehyung for fear that he is still watching him.
He nearly excuses himself to wander off and find anyone else to speak to, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. But then Taehyung pushes away from the column, handing Namjoon his drink and mutters that he is going to go to, "The little boy's room," and Yoongi feels obligated to stay put and keep Namjoon company.
Yoongi's eyes trail Taehyung before settling back on Namjoon, who has taken Taehyung's place leaning against the pillar while double-fisting drinks. Many questions and comments flutter through Yoongi's mind, but he cannot seem to form his lips around any of them, and he instead lets out a soft sigh of an exhale and pulls his drink to his lips to take a sip. When the silence begins to feel too heavy, Yoongi pulls the one thing he remembers about Namjoon, and attempts to make conversation.
"So, Taehyung mentioned you're a professor?"
Namjoon nods and smiles. "That is correct. I teach English literature at the university."
"English?" Yoongi asks, feeling surprised. "You speak English?"
"Yes, rather fluently," Namjoon responds in English, taking Yoongi a bit by surprise, and he stares at the man's pretty, soft lips as they upturn into an amused smile, suddenly at a loss for anything else to say.
"Taehyung has a lot to say about you," Namjoon finally continues.
"Oh?" is all Yoongi can bring himself to ask.
Namjoon hums and nods his head.
"He seems pretty taken with you. I can see why. You seem very interesting, Yoongi-hyung. And he is right, you get this pretty sakura tint to your cheeks when you blush."
Yoongi nods and swallows a lump of something akin to nervousness and uncertainty – unsure exactly how to parse and react to what Namjoon is saying. Taehyung is taken with Yoongi? As in, attracted to him? Interested in him? And how must this make Namjoon feel? He has a twist of a grin on his face, and his expression seems to convey more mirth than anger, but Yoongi does not know Namjoon well enough to ascertain whether that mirth could mean something dangerous.
And what is that about sakura blush? The wording reminds him of something Vante has said to him, amplifying his anxiety.
"You are a man of few words," Namjoon says after a moment of silence, and Yoongi nods, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks.
"S-sorry," Yoongi mutters, gulping his scotch. "Does that..." he trails off, unsure how forward he should be. He thinks it would be best to clear the air and know how Namjoon feels, but the man has a presence that Yoongi finds intimidating.
When Namjoon cocks his head with a faint squint to his eyes, Yoongi swallows and tries again.
"I just—I hope that doesn't bother you...or, rather, I hope you don't think I am d-doing anything to try to earn Taehyung's affection."
Namjoon laughs, eyes becoming tight crescents as his fingertips grip both glasses tightly, and he leans slightly forward. Foolishness and embarrassment flood Yoongi, and he tenses in on himself, raising his shoulders defensively and considering removing himself from the situation entirely.
Already, his body has told him to move – to get out of this position several times in the span of probably five or ten minutes; why does he remain in the same place, tethered under Namjoon's scrutinizing stare?
"Oh, goodness, no," Namjoon responds, gaze changing from playful to kind – soft and endeared. "I don't get the impression that you are that forward."
That one stings a little, and Yoongi attempts to laugh politely as he drinks back the rest of his scotch and turns to the bar, approaching and setting his glass down with a loud thunk. Taehyung returns while Yoongi is getting a new drink, catching Yoongi's eye from the left before he drops his gaze back to his hands fidgeting on the bar top. He hears Taehyung and Namjoon mutter from behind him, and then watches as they move throughout the space and Taehyung introduces Namjoon to new people.
And although Yoongi is relieved to have some distance between them, he also feels a tinge of sadness to be left behind. He tells himself that it is for the best – that whatever conversation he was attempting to have with Namjoon made him more uncomfortable than assured. But still, he laments being left behind.
Yoongi manages to fall into conversation with various coworkers, but he finds himself glancing around to see if Taehyung and Namjoon are nearby – wondering what they must be doing. And, each time he seeks them out, he finds Taehyung watching him. Regardless of who they are speaking with or where in the room they are, Taehyung's eyes seem to always be on Yoongi. Occasionally, before Yoongi can look away, Namjoon’s sharp, curious gaze finds him, too.
It takes less than an hour at the work party for Yoongi to snack on some finger foods, drink three glasses of scotch, and resolve to going home without saying goodbye to anyone. The familiar chill falls over him as he makes his way to the exit and through the parking lot, and he finds himself glancing over his shoulder on his way to his car, and through his mirrors as he gets situated, expecting to see Taehyung behind him, fixing him with that stare of his. Even as he drives home, glancing into the rearview mirror, he half expects to see a tuft of red hair in his backseat, greeting him like a jump scare in a horror film.
As Yoongi pulls up to his apartment building, finding parking on the street without having to drive around, he gets out of his car and hurries into his building, checking over his shoulders despite the street being near silent. He cannot shake the image of Taehyung's incessant stare, feeling a chill set deep within his bones as he retreats past the thick wooden door and makes his way up to the third story, to his apartment.
Sitting beside his apartment door is a large cardboard box, and beside that, in a large glass vase, is a bouquet of pink and yellow wildflowers. Yoongi stops in his tracks, surveying the mail. He had not seen these items when he left, and he came through here too late in the evening for the postal workers to have come after.
Yoongi keys in the code to his door, pushing it open, and then he returns to the parcel, lifting it gently between his fingers. The box is addressed to him, but there is no stamp indicating that a mail person delivered it. Reluctantly, he takes it into his apartment. It is entirely possible that someone in the building left it for him, although he has no idea who it could possibly be.
After setting the box on the table – which feels so light, Yoongi wonders what on earth could be inside – he returns to the hallway for the vase of flowers. There is a sweet, welcoming smell coming from them, and he checks a small card attached that simply reads "Yoongi" on the outside in neat handwriting.
Yoongi kicks the door gently closed behind him, then toes out of his shoes, staring at the bouquet in his hands. As he approaches the table just past the entryway, he sets the vase down, feeling a wave of anxiety sweep over him. With shaky hands, he lifts the card from the small white stand in which it sits, sticking out from the vase, and he pulls it open.
"Flowers for our favorite flower," the card reads, with no signature.
"What the fuck?" Yoongi mutters under his breath, turning the card over and finding it otherwise blank.
The words on the box appear to be written in the same handwriting, and he rubs his fingertips over the syllables, attempting to place who could have written it. The penmanship is neat but with a slight slant to it, and long vertical strokes with short horizontal strokes. He cannot think of anyone offhand who might write this way – not that he pays close attention to details like these, but this situation has him feeling on high alert.
Yoongi pulls away the tape on one side of the box, and opens a cardboard flap, instinctively holding his breath. Inside, he finds a large white stuffed cat, and a cute, black lace babydoll lingerie, like something one of his fans would have sent from his wish list. Those items, however, are shipped directly from the company, and the people making the purchases never see Yoongi's address, or even his legal name. None of them have access to his personal life, and especially not his apartment.
The satin material slips through Yoongi's fingertips, falling soundlessly to the wooden table, and he stares down at the heap of fabric as tears fill his eyes. Who were these gifts from, and how did they find his home?
Yoongi's ears ring, and the room spins. He attempts to get his bearings, grabbing onto the edge of his wooden table to steady himself from toppling over. With deep, calming breaths, he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on, and, moreover, what the fuck he can do about it.
Two thoughts cross Yoongi’s mind.
The first thought is that Yoongi should call the police. Clearly, someone knows where he lives, and they have access to him.
But what if the police brush him off? What if they find out he is a sex worker, and that most of his customers – the people they have to investigate – are men? Will they take his case seriously at all? Will they find some way to put the blame on him? Yoongi does not want to call the police.
The second thought is that Yoongi should tell Hoseok. If there is anyone in this world who would help Yoongi through this situation and keep him safe, it is his best friend in the entire world.
But what if he ends up inconveniencing his best friend? Hoseok is in his last semester of grad school, taking a hefty load of classes and constantly excusing his absence from his friend's lives because he is so busy with school work and his part-time job at the library. Will Yoongi just get in the way? Will he cause Hoseok to fall behind, thus ruining his dreams? Yoongi does not want to call Hoseok.
And so, Yoongi does nothing.
Well, that is not entirely true. Yoongi – in a fit of defiant rage – does something, just not anything that could help him in any conceivable way.
Yoongi – pulse pounding and limbs shaking – grabs the small pile of satin and lace from the table and storms into his bedroom. He decides that tonight he will put on the brand new lingerie and make a special appearance on cam, hoping to taunt whoever sent these gifts. The flowers say our favorite flower, suggesting the items have come from more than one person. Is it Moni and Vante? Are they working as a team?
As he gets ready, Yoongi sends two identical messages to his two highest-paying customers.
GlossyBoy to Moni
Going to do a special appearance tonight ;) don’t miss out!
GlossyBoy to Vante
Going to do a special appearance tonight ;) don’t miss out!
Then, Yoongi puts on a thick layer of mascara, lines his eyes in black liner, and covers his bleach blond hair with a black bob-cut wig that is short enough to show off the entirety of his neck and throat. Yoongi grips onto his neck tightly with one hand and squeezes, holding long enough to impress little pink marks upon his pale skin, and using a blend of pink and purple eyeshadow, he dabs over the marks, doing his best to make them look like little bruises.
This time, when his phone dings with notifications from the app, Yoongi does not become anxious about their contents. This time, he grabs his phone with a wild, burning fire behind his eyes, and he grins as he reads the incoming messages.
Moni
Is that so, pretty boy? Is there anything in particular that spurred an appearance tonight?
Vante
My, what a wonderful turn of events. I will be home in ten minutes, kitten; can you wait for me, pretty please?
Feeling bold, Yoongi decides to taunt them. If they are the ones sending the gifts, then perhaps, knowing that Yoongi is willing to go the extra mile to appease them will stop them from taking their little stalking game any further. If they are not the ones sending the gifts, then perhaps knowing they have competition will spur them to give him more.
GlossyBoy to Moni
You tell me... "Flowers for our favorite flower" ...does that sound familiar?
GlossyBoy to Vante
I'll give you fifteen, big boy. And I'll wear the new black satin and lace just for you.
Adrenaline courses through Yoongi, so much so that he has to tip his wig-clad head back and take deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, shaking his arms at the sides, feeling a restless amount of energy vibrating through him.
All this time, Yoongi has been standing in his bathroom in the nude, applying his wig and makeup, and attempting to get his bearings straight. He glances to his left, through his bedroom, to the window covered in dark blue curtains, and he thinks, just for a brief, fleeting moment, about opening them wide and letting the world see him. Thankfully, the incoming buzz of messages pulls Yoongi from his maddening ideas and grounds him, if only a little.
Moni
Don't you think the colors suit you, pretty?
Vante
Oh, what a treat! I hope the length is just right.
Both of these comments could be affirmations, but they are too vague for Yoongi to know for sure. On one hand, he wants to push them further and force them to tell him whether or not it was them who sent him the gifts, but on the other, what dangers could come from shaking the hive of two hornets who knows his name and address?
Yoongi decides to reel it in a bit and be coy with his responses. Sooner or later, one of them is going to crack. He just needs to toy with them enough to find which of the two is the weakest link. The timelines of Moni and Vante giving him attention – the ebb and flow of one being more available than the other – do seem to line up if Yoongi really stretches the truth to fit his narrative.
GlossyBoy to Moni
But are those the colors that you think suit me best?
GlossyBoy to Vante
Tune in and find out... ;)
Unsure how much time has even passed at this point, Yoongi lifts the satin lingerie and maneuvers it in his shaky hands until he is certain that he has the bottom gathered, with the front facing away from him, and he slides his arms through holes, wiggling it around until it is cascading over his torso.
The thin spaghetti straps hang from Yoongi's shoulders, which, he is always told, are surprisingly broad and muscular for his rather petite frame. And the length is definitely not in the least bit modest, with the front just barely hanging past his soft cock. The moment he gets hard, there will be no hiding it; the thin material will tent comically and surely bunch up, revealing it.
Yoongi storms from his bathroom, through his bedroom, into the kitchen, and he grabs a bottle of cheap whiskey down from the cabinet and pours himself a shot, drinking it back in such a rush that some of it dribbles from the side of his mouth, which he wipes away with the back of his hand. Then, he storms over to the table, grabs the vase of flowers, and returns to his room, placing the flowers on his bedside table, and setting up his fucking machine.
Tonight is going to be an acting debut, if Yoongi has ever made one. Sure, he has begged an invisible presence not to fuck him while stretching himself over a thrusting toy before, but this time, he is going to roleplay an intruder and put up an invisible fight. This time, he is really going to sell it.
He connects a modest-sized beige dildo to the machine and slicks it with lube, angling it so that when he is on cam, the audience should be able to see it getting swallowed by his ass. Then he folds himself over the edge of his bed and uses two slicked fingers to prep himself just enough to make the cock slide without hurting him too much.
Fingering himself almost feels good enough to get lost in, and Yoongi has to force himself to stop, feeling his cock getting hard as he ruts against his mattress. For this to be believable, he has to be soft.
To set the mood, Yoongi puts on some low-fi music that is only loud enough to be faintly detected by the microphone, and he sets his room light to a deep, dim blue. Then he checks the time, verifying that it has been thirteen minutes since promising Vante fifteen, and he gets everything on his desk set up and ready to go.
Yoongi feels delicate and pretty as he sits on the edge of the bed in his dainty black satin with lace lining the edges. He logs into the cam site, gazes into the bright white glow of his screen as he starts his live stream and places his hands in his lap.
Followers begin to stream in, and the chat erupts with excitement. It has been a while since GlossyBoy has made an appearance outside of his regularly scheduled Wednesday nights, and there seem to be many depraved little fucks eager to watch whatever he may have in store for them.
In an attempt to cover his fake neck bruises –and to appear coy – Yoongi has his head tilted at a downward angle, and he stares wide-eyed at the chat, waiting to see two specific usernames pop into view. This is, after all, a show just for them, assuming they are the ones taunting him with gifts. And if it is not them, then it must be someone who is likely to watch his stream. Why go to such lengths for someone and not have notifications for their appearances turned on?
The first username Yoongi waits for pops up, and his body breaks into goosebumps, instantly sending a chill over him that makes his nipples stand erect beneath the satin fabric.
Moni
Pretty, pretty
Yoongi waits – does his best to seem unaffected – and watches for Moni to say something about the flowers in the background or the sexy little outfit, nearly feeling a wave of disappointment when he does neither.
It only takes a moment for the second username to stand out amidst the other chatters, and this one causes Yoongi's pulse to quicken even more. Despite all of the warning signs to not be interested in someone like Vante – especially if he is one of the people who knows way too much about his identity – Yoongi always feels a certain kind of affection for the way Vante speaks to him.
Vante
My, what have we here?
"Hi everyone," Yoongi says sweetly – demure.
The chat continues to run at a pace that makes reading many of the messages difficult, and Yoongi watches with a shy smile, hoping for more Vante. Ordinarily, Vante likes to open a private chat window – costing him extra, and Yoongi gives him a moment to initiate.
To his delight, a small white square appears at the upper right side of the screen, and Yoongi leans forward, letting the satin fall open as he accepts the chat request and greets his guest in their private window.
GlossyBoy
There you are, baby.
Vante
Oh kitten, look at you. Black satin against skin so pale, you could be chiseled from the finest marble. The Townley Venus wishes she could compare.
Yoongi bites his bottom lip, gazing straight into the camera as he responds.
GlossyBoy
It hardly covers me :( I look so slutty.
Despite Vante being nothing more than a screen name attached to a credit card, Yoongi often wonders where the roleplaying ends and the real flirting begins. He likes to imagine Vante is someone strong and a bit taller than him – someone who could easily overpower him and make him beg. He wonders what kinds of noises Vante makes when he touches himself to Yoongi's streams – wonders how easily Yoongi's roleplaying makes him cum.
And now, as he waits for a response from the man, he wonders if Vante really is the type to stalk him. He wonders if he would be afraid of the person behind the screen name, or if he would be eager to invite him in.
Finally, Vante replies, and it is all the encouragement Yoongi needs to get started.
Vante
So show me.
GlossyBoy
I'll show you. ;)
With the lube bottle and remote to the fucking machine tucked near Yoongi's pillow, he readies himself, taking a fortifying breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. Then he sits back with his palms on his mattress and blinks his wide eyes, doing his best to emulate an innocent little fawn.
"Do you like my new lingerie?" Yoongi asks sweetly.
Already, tokens start to come in. Behind Yoongi, on a long metal arm, the toy cock points out straight about an inch above his bed, comically disembodied but enough of an indicator for the audience that something is going to happen.
"I don't know who sent it to me, though," Yoongi pouts, sitting up and running his palms over his nipples.
Yoongi's eyes flash to the chat box, and he does his best to keep his composure as he reads the incoming message.
Vante
Are you sure about that?
"Whoever sent it has good taste," Yoongi continues, slowly getting onto his feet.
From where he stands, the camera only captures his clavicle down to his thighs, and it is a miracle that his cock stays covered at all by the thin material as he gets onto his tip-toes and swishes his hips from side to side.
"Wait, let me go over here so I can show you the whole thing," he says, rounding the edge of his bed to stand beside it, bringing his face back into frame on one side of the recording, and swishing his hips some more.
With a gasp, Yoongi looks to the side, toward the door that leads out to the kitchen. Then he looks back at the camera, leans forward, and loudly whispers, "Did you guys hear something?"
Of course, there is nothing to have been heard; this is all part of tonight's show. But Yoongi does his best to sell it, quickly turning his attention back to the door. He watches in silence for several seconds as comments and tokens come flooding over the chat. Vante has said something in his private chat window, but from here, Yoongi is unable to read it.
Yoongi straightens out and shakes his head, turning to the camera with a panicked expression, saying, "Someone has broken in!" before grabbing himself by the throat and throwing himself back onto the bed. Yoongi thrashes and pleads, begging the invisible man not to hurt him – not to touch him – before lifting and throwing himself onto his stomach.
With his face pressed into the comforter, Yoongi begins to shout before covering his own mouth with his hand, into which he lets out a muffled string of nonsense. It really is a wonder none of his neighbors have ever complained about noise, and for this, Yoongi is always glad.
Although Yoongi cannot read the chat, he can see more and more text and tokens flooding in. He also thinks he can see messages from Vante, which he wishes he could read. With his other hand, Yoongi shoves two fingers into himself, then he releases his mouth enough to beg the invisible man not to assault him.
"Please, please," Yoongi sobs, "please, no, don't do this!"
Yoongi scrambles onto the bed and crawls to the edge, leaning toward the feed with a panicked expression. His makeup is already beginning to smear around his eyes, and he lifts his chin high so the smudged fake bruises are highlighted in the bright glow, while he begs the chat for mercy.
"Please, you have to help me!"
A glance up at the top right corner makes Yoongi's skin crawl and his cock twitch. He knows he absolutely should not find Vante's attention attractive, and yet—
Vante
Ooh, slutty, indeed. What a vision.
Vante
Break-in play and rape play? Is it my birthday?
Vante
I wish I could be the one holding you down by the throat. Would you like that, kitten?
Yoongi pretends to be yanked backward, bending at the knees before scrambling back and getting into position in front of the fucking machine. He is relieved to see some of the lube is still sticky on the surface of the silicon cock, and he lays on his back and positions himself, pretending to be held down while getting his hips aligned with the tip.
It takes a few tries hitting the comforter before his fingers find plastic, and he slides the small black remote close and clicks it onto its lowest setting, making the dildo thrust forward at a snail's pace.
"Please, no!" Yoongi sobs as the slick silicon rubs against his buttcheeks, making a feeble attempt to part them.
Yoongi digs his feet into the comforter and angles his hips up just enough to make the toy begin to breach his entrance, and the abrupt quake of pleasure-pain that rocks through him makes him sob, pitchy and shattered – it feels good, and he is definitely not prepped enough.
A few more thrusts are all it takes for Yoongi to have the tip buried inside him, and he flails enough to scoot forward and make sure the toy is able to fuck into him deep enough.
"Please," he weakly begs, shaking his head. "Please don't do this to me. You don't have to do this."
A glance at the screen shows the dildo entrance is not as clear as Yoongi would like, so he scrambles back, away from the thrusting toy, pretending to get away, only to be forcibly shoved onto his stomach by the invisible man and yanked haphazardly back into place.
With an arch of his back and wiggle of his hips, Yoongi is penetrated by the toy, and his head lolls as he moans, which he quickly attempts to recover with more sobs and pleas.
Now it is crystal clear what is happening on screen – now the audience can see his tight little hole getting fucked by the machine. More lube would be ideal, but Yoongi does his best to relax and swallow the silicon cock, hoping that the lube that he shoved into himself earlier will sufficiently slick it up. Although, to be fair, the excitement from this scene already has his cock hard and leaking against his tummy, so there is a chance he will not last long enough for it to matter.
Yoongi scrambles and reaches for the remote once more, turning up the thrusting of the machine, which fills the room with the sound of a mechanical whirr, jabbing back and forth. Yoongi feels so full and so filthy from the roleplay that tears break, and he sobs against the comforter, begging not to be fucked while making an even bigger mess of his makeup.
The ringing of tokens flooding through is almost nonstop, and Yoongi celebrates by rutting his hips down against the mattress, dragging his cock between rough cotton blend and delicate satin. He wonders if he would be able to withstand more than one orgasm tonight, or if the excitement from the roleplay will plunge him into oversensitivity.
With his face buried in the blanket, Yoongi pictures the strong, faceless forms of Moni and Vante pinning him down and fucking his tight hole. He imagines them holding him at knifepoint, filling him with genuine fear as they use his body like a doll, fucking him so much he is unable to think or speak in full sentences. This thought alone sends Yoongi hurtling toward orgasm, and he cranks up the machine and claws at the comforter as his back arches and he sobs through the high.
"Fuck," Yoongi whimpers as he trembles and sprays his release on his tummy, lingerie, and comforter. "Fuck, fuck, please, I can't cum from this, I can't like how this feels!"
It could be the adrenaline from the mysterious packages or the intensity of the scene – or a culmination of things – but Yoongi begins to genuinely cry as his emotions tip from one extreme to the next. The slide of the silicon cock is beginning to drag uncomfortably as Yoongi involuntarily clamps his muscles around it, and he breaks character enough to grab for the bottle of lube, squirt some into his hand, and reach back to slick himself up. Hot tears run down his cheeks, and he continues to sob as he positions himself a little more comfortably on his knees to take the thrusting toy.
"I shouldn't like it," Yoongi sobs, not entirely sure he is still in character. "I shouldn't like it, but I do. It feels so good. Fuck, so, so good."
Whimpering and muttering, Yoongi lets his face become muffled once more, pushed past overstimulation as arousal rushes blood back to his empty cock. Yoongi feels overwhelmed, and a tiny voice tells him to end the show short and clean himself up. But all he can do is lay with his ass lifted in the air as he cries into the comforter.
The chiming of tokens, whirring of the machine, broken sobs, and low-fi music create a dizzying soundtrack of depravity. Yoongi has no idea how long he lays face-down – time and space having completely slipped away – but by the time he cums again, his entire body trembles and quakes so hard, he worries his heart may actually screech to a halt.
Yoongi throws himself forward, off the thrusting cock, and falls down onto a cold pile of cum. He scrambles for the remote and shuts the machine off, then rests with his forehead in the crook of one of his elbows, attempting to catch his breath. The sounds of tokens coming in have not slowed, and Yoongi almost dreads having to face the bright glow of his monitor despite the show being far from over. The viewers and paying customers alike will want to see the mess he has made of himself. They will want to berate and degrade him.
But Yoongi is exhausted and flooded with emotion as he struggles to wrap his head around everything that has just transpired. Like a flash in a pan, Yoongi has gone from feeling scared for his life to cuming all over himself to the thought of his admirers breaking in and holding him down to use.
His limbs feel weak as he shuffles onto his elbows and knees and crawls to the edge of the bed. Taking in his appearance, Yoongi fights the urge to laugh. The makeup is smeared down to the apples of his cheeks, and he can see black tear streaks in various directions painting his skin. The wig has managed to stay in place, and Yoongi runs a hand over it, staring into the camera with teary eyes.
"Is this what you want?" he sobs, feeling more emotion rise to his throat. "Is this how you like to see me?"
Vante, who had not sent any messages during the rest of the scene, sends a response that makes Yoongi shiver.
Vante
What a perfect, dirty boy. Were you imagining it was me holding you down and using your pretty hole?
And Yoongi, high on adrenaline and the dredges of orgasm, responds without giving it much thought.
GlossyBoy
I was…
Vante
Cute, but that little silicon cock can hardly compare to my size. I would have you screaming so loud, your neighbors would think you are being murdered, pretty one.
Token chimes start to slow, creating an uneven, shrill cacophony that makes Yoongi’s head begin to ache. He reminds himself that Vante could be one of the men who left him gifts, and that he needs to log out and stop engaging in this conversation.
But, Yoongi reasons, what are the odds? He has thousands of followers, any of them could be creeps. And Vante has sent him several high-priced items from his wish list, including the very expensive fucking machine that he just used. Would someone who dotes on him the way Vante does really be capable of stalking him?
Yoongi is tired and not thinking straight, and he smiles weakly into the camera as he asks, “Did you like that show? Was it fun watching me beg for help?”
And although he is meaning to address everyone, his eyes float to the chat box with Vante. When Vante takes too long to reply, Yoongi feels disappointed, and he does his best to shake the thought away.
The chat is a mess of praises and threats. Username after username tells Yoongi they wish it was a real intruder – they wish they were the intruder. Some fantasize about killing him, as they always do, and others swear they would have saved him if he gave his body to them as a reward.
With a heavy sigh, Yoongi mutters, "Alright. See you on Wednesday, you monsters," and abruptly ends the feed.
He feels dirty and humiliated, though he is unsure why; this broadcast was hardly more intense than others. He acted a little more than usual and squirmed a little harder, but the fantasy is always similar. So why does he feel so on edge?
Yoongi pulls away the wig and drops it to the bed, then runs a hand through his sweaty blond hair. He concedes to taking a nice long shower, and decides that in the morning, he should find some way to make his apartment safe from break-ins. Perhaps he should consider calling the cops or asking a friend for help.
In the morning. He will deal with it in the morning.
○ ○ ○ ●
With heavy lids, Yoongi blinks, attempting to make sense of his surroundings. The room smells like his room – fresh linens and tangerine soap – but there are other smells permeating the air. Other musks.
Yoongi attempts to move, but his limbs feel pinned, as if pure lead has replaced his blood. His familiar ceiling comes into focus only to blur, opaque and wet. He is crying.
“Hhh—“ Yoongi opens his mouth to scream but only a deep, raspy sound passes his lips.
Unable to speak, he attempts to thrash.
Unable to thrash, he cries some more.
“I think our pet is awake,” a deep, calm timber mutters just beside his ear.
Yoongi attempts to look, but his head is stuck in place and his vision keeps drowning in tears. He thinks the voice sounds like Namjoon. But why is Namjoon in his apartment?
“Awe, Joonie,” a voice that unmistakably belongs to Taehyung croons just as close. “I think he’s crying.”
“Crying so soon?” Namjoon’s voice taunts. And then, in a tone much deeper, it says, “But we haven’t even touched him, yet.”
Fingertips graze over Yoongi’s naked chest, playing gently with his nipple. Yoongi can see hints of tan, slender fingers, and his heart begins to thump wildly in his chest. Fear mixes with desire and Yoongi feels so terribly ashamed.
“You’re so much prettier in person,” Namjoon groans as fingertips dig painfully into Yoongi’s abdomen.
“So perfect and now you’re mine ,” Taehyung adds as Yoongi’s flesh is ripped open and his blood sprays the ceiling above.
With a gasp, Yoongi jolts, sitting up and heaving for air. Tears run in hot streaks down his face and he paws quickly at his throat and chest, feeling his body intact, no longer torn open.
“Fuck,” Yoongi pants, grateful for the sound of his own voice. “What the fuck.”