Work Text:
It's a really lazy kind of Sunday.
Yoongi doesn't even have his notepad on him - a rare sight. The TV is on, but not being watched, simply background noise at this point. Yoongi dozes under the solid weight of Hoseok, a mess of black hair tucked into the crook of Yoongi's neck. They're resting on the couch and Hoseok had knocked out cold on top of Yoongi like he was some kind of full body pillow.
"Sorry, guys," he'd said when the rest of the members had made to leave for the studio and dance rooms, "I have 59 kg of grown ass man sleeping on me - I'm not moving." The rest of them had rolled their eyes, but left him alone to slip in and out of consciousness.
A small whimper he feels more than hears on his throat pulls him from his almost-sleep and he frowns, frustrated, until he feels Hoseok shift against him. Yoongi stills completely when he feels it - Hoseok has gotten hard in his sleep, and now he's moving, whimpering, clutching against Yoongi's shirt while his dreams take off.
"Well, that escalated quickly," Yoongi thinks. He shifts softly, quietly into a more comfortable position and fits one hand gently on the nape of Hoseok's neck. He can feel himself getting aroused by this - Hoseok's openly rutting against Yoongi's leg now, that rests between his own. His cheeks are flushed a deep, gorgeous red and his mouth is open against Yoongi's chest, wetting the spot down and it should be gross, but Yoongi just thinks Hoseok is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
Yoongi goes back and forth for what seems like ages on whether or not to wake Hoseok up - he looks so good like this, but Yoongi wants him touching, wants to kiss, wants Hoseok awake when Yoongi makes him come all over himself. He slides his hand down Hoseok's back, drawing a shiver, and places it on Hoseok's ass, pressing firmly to help him buck against his own leg. He's painfully hard in his sweats now, his hips canting up to meet Hoseok's and Yoongi can't believe Hoseok is still asleep.
Yoongi cards his fingers through Hoseok's soft hair, bending down at a weird angle to kiss his forehead. "Yah..Hoseok-ah," he whispers, and Hoseok keens again. Heat floods Yoongi's lower belly and he drops his head back, biting off a groan, trying to get his bearings. "Hoseok-ah," he tries again, a bit louder. "Baby, you're doing so well," he presses another kiss to the crown of Hoseok's head and rocks up against him one more time, hard.
Hoseok wakes all at once with a gasp followed by a loud groan. Yoongi sits up gingerly and rearranges them so he's sitting back against the couch, Hoseok straddling him. Hoseok is still disoriented and heated and panting, foread resting against Yoongi's shoulder and gripping his arms.
"Yoongi-hyung," he whispers, "wha-"
"Shh," Yoongi hushes him and slips his hand down Hoseok's sweats, stroking his cock through his underwear. "Let hyung take care of you." Hoseok hisses and rolls his hips, heat coursing through him. Yoongi pulls gently at the hairs on Hoseok's nape, pulling him back only to press him foreword again into a wet kiss, curling his tongue around Hoseok's teeth and biting his lips until he pulls pretty moans from Hoseok's throat.
Yoongi adjusts and slips his hand past Hoseok's underwear, gripping his cock, slick with precum. He flicks a fingernail against the slit and grins something terrible when Hoseok jerks roughly and cries out. He takes mercy on him after that, sliding his hand over him at a fast pace, twisting on the upstroke, and Hoseok's moaning openly now, broken versions of Yoongi's name spilling over his lips.
"Yoongi-hyung," he grits out, fingernails gripping almost painfully into Yoongi's shoulders for support, "hyung, gonna..can I--"
Yoongi sucks in a breath, quickening his pace and kissing Hoseok again before biting at the spot just below his ear, "Come on sweetheart," he whispers, "come for your hyung."
Hoseok trembles violently when he comes, painting Yoongi's hand and his own shirt white and Yoongi can't resist bringing his hand up to lick the fluid off, even if it is somewhat bitter to the taste.
Hoseok is on his knees before Yoongi can say anything to him, tearing Yoongi's sweats and underwear halfway down his thighs and suddenly his mouth is on him, around him, velvet heat burning him up from the inside out. Yoongi lets out a shuddering breath and grips Hoseok's hair as he works him over, tongue dancing over the slit and down the vein on the underside, and Yoongi would be embarrassed about how fast he comes if he wasn't so turned on by the sight of Hoseok's plump lips wrapped around him, slick and sinfully red, a brilliant contrast to the white that paints them when some of Yoongi's come slips down them while Hoseok works to swallow everything.
They clean themselves up and go right back to their earlier position on the couch, Hoseok draped over Yoongi and Yoongi flipping through tv channels, one hand gliding lazily through Hoseok's hair.
"So," Yoongi asks after a while of finding nothing on tv and not really paying attention anyway.
"Hmm?" Hoseok hums.
"So what were you dreaming about that got you so worked up, huh?" Yoongi ask with an awful grin.
Hoseok stiffens, then props himself up to look straight into Yoongi's eyes, face casual, and says easy as anything, "Namjoon."
That's when Hoseok learns that 59 kg of grown ass man is fucking loud when it hits the floor.