Archive of Our Own

Over time, Thanos had started to separate his life into a “before” and an “after”. Winding up on the edge of a bridge after losing everything? The before. The man who approached him with a game of ddakji was the start of the interim. A bloated intermission he only half-remembers through the pills and sleepless nights. Nam-gyu, the man currently tucked carefully into his side, is a solid foundation of the after. Even with Thanos’ fuckups and adlibbing, he made it through all three acts. Even if Thanos was never into that theatre shit, he recognized the talent people held. It was a masterclass in performance.

Neither of them are miserably high, for once. Thanos’ fault. Mostly. He’d spent the money for weed recklessly on convenience store goodies. But instead of freaking out, his first instinct when it came to most things, Nam-gyu had just shrugged his shoulders. Suspicious, but Thanos wasn’t going to waste a golden opportunity like that. They’d be doing the same shit with or without the weed anyways. Watching schlocky horror flicks with bad acting and even worse effects was always a good pastime.

Nam-gyu was kind of a freak about it. He gave too much of a shit about the special effects, always complaining right next to Thanos’ ear about how “unrealistic” the whole thing was. They would know. But that knowledge was tucked away, never to be seriously brought up. For one, it’d bring down the whole mood. And even worse, it’d kill the sense of normalcy they had built up over the past few months. They were both desperately looking to preserve any scraps of it they had left, between Nam-gyu’s grueling shifts at Club Pentagon and Thanos trying to slip back into his music career. 

He tucks his fingers into the side of Nam-gyu’s neck to make him scrunch up. He’s met with a glare, but if anything, it only makes him scoot closer. Getting back into contact with his “old friends” was a pain in the ass. Especially when his ex-producers refused to work with him without some kind of added “bonus”. He scraped by well enough without them. Nam-gyu’s job had slowly started to give him free handouts again, and Thanos nicked a small cut of it to pay for studio costs. Nothing had exactly been mocked up yet. Hell— he was still missing lyrics and a beat, but once those were set? He’d be fucking golden. He’d have more than enough to pay for new producers. Just so he had an excuse to spite all the assholes who turned their backs on him.

His finger idly traces the shell of Nam-gyu’s ear. Imperceptibly gentle, like he was trying not to scare off a stray cat. One wrong move and he’d be shoved off the couch. The TV’s in the middle of shining light over Nam-gyu’s face. The harsh, red lighting casts shadows over his cheekbones before the scene switches to a moodier tone. It reminds him of the glow surrounding them on those shitty bunk beds. Giggling over whoever had kicked it and how stupid they were to do so.

Maybe it had been the drugs at the time, but Nam-gyu looked almost ethereal then. Like some kind of greedy siren, an immortal creature sucking Thanos’ lifeforce dry. But he had willingly given up his pills back then. Hell, if he had the spare cash for it, he’d give them up now. He’d pry open Nam-gyu’s jaw and place it between his teeth. Making sure he chewed and swallowed, took every last bit of Thanos’ generosity. And after that? Thanos would scrounge around for more. Anything Nam-gyu needed to stop the tremors racking his frame.

Now, see, that’s the shit he wishes he could write about. But it clashes against his image. Another consequence of the before. His audience wouldn’t listen to that sappy bullshit. Hell, it’d turn him into even more of a laughing stock. Normally? He wouldn’t give a shit. He’d mope about it for a little while, and then spin it for future material out of spite. But something about the idea of an audience laughing at his lyrics, the ones hypothetically centered around Nam-gyu, makes him feel like he’s been kicked in the teeth.

Sure, there’s tweaks and adjustments that could be made. To make his art as unspecific as possible. But he’s too lost in the sentimental aspect of it. It wouldn’t be authentic, and isn’t that the whole point? He’s certainly not hiding anything between the bright nails and attraction to the spotlight. But the world doesn’t deserve his boy like that. They wouldn’t know how to appreciate him, and it’d trip him up to see that kind of backlash.

Nam-gyu tugs on Thanos’ piercing to get his attention. He blinks, and sees him gesturing toward the screen. Apparently he’s missed “the best part of the damn thing!”, and they have to rewind it so that he “gets it”. He smiles as Nam-gyu picks up the remote and turns his head to hide it in his hair. It’s hard to take the guy seriously when he’s groaning over Thanos not paying attention to the shitty movie they picked tonight. Excuse him for being rightfully distracted.

He rubs his thumb nervously against Nam-gyu’s shoulder.

The line between them had been blurred, then promptly leapt over. Not really Nam-gyu’s fault. They had been drawn towards each other, and a one time mistake turned into two, then three, then it seemed like every other night Thanos was slipping his hands down Nam-gyu’s pants. He couldn’t get enough, and it was seriously driving him fucking crazy.

So no wonder Nam-gyu had freaked the hell out on him. It had been a rough night, and the days of build up certainly didn’t help alleviate things. Nam-gyu wore his heart on his sleeve. It was impossible for him not to, really. But Thanos had just figured he was getting twitchy over a million other little things. Not over…that.

He nudges his nose against the top of Nam-gyu’s head, lips just barely pressed over his temple. At least things had improved. He could sleep in Nam-gyu’s bed with no strings attached now. They spent their mornings tangled up in each other. And if Thanos wanted to kiss him while he was doing stuff around the apartment, he didn’t even bristle up at it! Sometimes he’d even lean back into Thanos’ arms. So yeah, things had been good.

But it still didn’t feel like enough. 

He hesitated to do those sorts of things outside of the comfort of their own apartment. Struggled with the simple act of holding his Nam-su’s hand. He wanted to grab himself through the mirror and ask what the fuck was wrong with him. There was no reason to be acting like a fucking idiot. Even if nothing was official, even if they never really said anything, the circumstances were pretty fucking clear. Right? 

That was just how it worked. They didn’t need to say anything because they were so in sync (until they weren’t), and totally understood what cards were laid out on the table (until they didn’t). So really, there should be nothing to be afraid of. There was no way that he could fuck up this sort of thing further.

Thanos presses a kiss to Nam-gyu’s hair, and is promptly swatted at. A typical little annoyance, but right now? It stings. 

The movie’s starting to reach its natural end. And Thanos is quickly starting to run out of time. Nonchalance is the key here. Say it too sincerely, and he risks scaring himself and Nam-gyu off. Say it too sarcastically, and it comes off as a bad joke that’s sure to linger. Now he just needs to figure out what exactly to say. Nobody said that part would be easy.

“I—“

Nam-gyu turns his head to look at him— the TV’s ambient glow soft against his face as the credits roll. Thanos suddenly gets a lump in his throat.

“I’m getting kind of tired, man. How about we pack this up for the night. Yeah?”

Nam-gyu’s eyebrows furrow, and Thanos is worried that the other man can see right through him. Luckily, he heaves a self suffering sigh and starts to drag the extra blankets and pillows off the couch.

He gathers the bundle in his arms and turns away, “Fine. But I’m picking the first movie next time. Make sure to take off your socks before you go to bed. They’re disgusting.”

Thanos scoffs and leans back into the couch cushions. Watching Nam-gyu leave out of the corner of his vision. The moment that he hears the door to their shared room (and god, that really doesn’t help) shut, he presses the heel of his palm into one of his eyes.

Fuck. 

Okay— maybe this was turning into more of a problem than he originally thought.

He tried his surefire method of ignoring it at first. Everything was normal! They fight, they fuck, they fall asleep together in bed. Acknowledging that they don’t want to leave each other’s sides, but leaving it open ended. Normal everyday shit. Thanos could do the open ended. It gives him enough notice to split if things get rough, even if this time around will actually hurt. He can live with it.

But then he gets trapped in the little moments like this. They’re both sitting on the floor after Thanos had finally scored something worthwhile to flood through their systems. Nam-gyu in his lap, giggling while he paints his nails. He’s put the green polish in the wrong spot, and half of it is starting to quickly stick to his skin. Turns out trusting a guy with shaky hands with nail polish wasn’t the brightest idea. But it turned out to be more of an excuse anyways. Anything to get him close like this. 

Once Nam-gyu’s apparently satisfied with his work, he caps the bottle and stows it away. Thanos spares a glance at his hands. Not great, but he has no plans of taking it off soon. If only they made permanent nail polish…

Thanos sticks his nose into the crook of Nam-gyu’s neck and takes a deep breath. He makes a move to grab at his sides, but his wrists are grabbed in retaliation. Lifting his head, he’s met with a scowl.

“Don’t try to wreck it in two seconds, hyung. You gotta wait your turn,” Nam-gyu pouts, but his upset facade drops immediately as he starts waving around Thanos’ wrists for him. “You’re going to ruin it! Keep your hands to yourself.”

What the hell had Thanos given him to make him openly act like this? Shit, he wishes these kinds of things came with real labels. He’d buy up some dealer’s whole fucking stock to have Nam-gyu giggly and red in his lap every night. There were other ways to achieve it, sure, but they both had a habit of pussying out at the first sign of embarrassment.

“I don’t wanna paint your nails, my boy.” Thanos coyly taps a finger against his wrist, “You still have that black polish on. You said that goes better with your clothes for Pentagon, yeah?”

A sigh. Mercifully, Nam-gyu lets go of his wrists. He slumps against Thanos’ shoulder weightlessly. “I guess. Just thought—“ The rest of his sentence is mumbled against his skin. Hands reach up, loosely clinging onto the back of his t-shirt. It’s too cute.

Thanos wraps his arms around Nam-gyu in turn. Hands flared up, so he doesn’t smudge any of the polish. Nam-gyu would pitch an absolute fit if he did. It’s a bit of a shame that they won’t be able to match. Maybe next time, he’ll try getting him to go for a really dark purple. Some of those look almost identical to black. A little piece of himself, covered and tucked under Nam-gyu’s typicality. He likes the sound of that.

He raises up a hand and starts to gently blow on his nails, willing them to dry faster. Tucking his fingers into his palm, he uses his knuckles to push Nam-gyu’s fallen hair away from his cheeks. He’s graced with a visible slimmer of his skin, pink all the way up to his bare ears.  

“Oh, shit—“ Thanos scrambles, pushing Nam-gyu off his lap, “Wait here. I just got a fantastic fucking idea. Just gotta grab a couple of things.”

Without another word, he runs to their room, pulling open the drawers in a frenzy. After accidentally opening the underwear drawer, he’s able to find what he’s looking for. Two purple stud earrings and a safety pin. He grasps them tightly in his hand, and hurries his way back to the living room.

As expected, Nam-gyu’s laying on the floor. Too loose limbed to do much of anything but curse out Thanos. He uses his foot to push at Nam-gyu’s side, rolling him over onto his back. He drops down to his knees and holds the spoils of his journey right in front of Nam-gyu’s face. Even then, he looks confused. Thanos huffs out a sigh, exasperated over having to explain something this simple to him.

“If I can’t paint your nails, then this is the next best thing. These will work perfectly, see? Tiny enough so they’ll match any of the stuff you wear.” He holds one stud up to Nam-gyu’s ear between his forefinger and his thumb, getting a better idea of what it’ll look like. “You’re gonna look real nice in my color, Nam-gyu.”

His words immediately have their desired effect as Nam-gyu’s pink turns scarlet. But even the embarrassment doesn’t stop his need to have to question every little thing. He narrows his eyes and props himself up using Thanos’ knee, “Have you even pierced someone else’s ear before? Or are you using me as your damn lab rat here?”

Thanos scoffs, “Obviously! What, you think I paid for these?” He pulls at his ear to show off his own piercings. A little crooked, but no one could really tell from a distance. Slowly, he watches Nam-gyu’s guard lower. The moment his shoulders slump is the telltale sign for Thanos to strike. He puts his free hand against the small of Nam-gyu’s back, encouraging him to sit up a little straighter.

“Alright, first things first, we gotta like…numb it or whatever,” Thanos looks around the room and spots a wayward cup on the coffee table. He leans over on the floor to grab it, peering inside. Looks like there was some partially melted ice still left. Score! 

“What the fuck?! Don’t use that on my ear—“ Nam-gyu’s struggling and squirming comes too late as Thanos presses the soda-sticky ice cube against the lobe of his ear. The other man shivers and makes retching noises. For the most part, Thanos just ignores his bitching. As the ice works its magic and melts against his skin, Thanos fishes for the safety pin.

He holds it up proudly like a scabbard, and closes one of his eyes to get a better view of what he’s working with. As the ice finally melts into nothing, he wipes his hand on his sweatpants before grabbing the lobe of Nam-gyu’s ear. Testing the waters, he presses the very point of the pin against its middle. “Now I just gotta line it up, push in, and then you’ll be all set! Still wanna back out?”

His vision’s drawn to Nam-gyu’s throat as he nervously swallows. He waits patiently, while Nam-gyu’s as quiet as a prayer. Thanos presses the sharp point a little more insistently against his skin, prodding him for a real answer. Nam-gyu seems to snap out of it, blinking a little stupidly. He spares Thanos a glance and crosses his arms, “If it’ll make you shut up about it, then whatever. Do it already.” Thanos watches in delight as a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his cheek. Shit— he really needs to find out what in the hell he gave him. 

The silence stretches between them as Thanos works up the nerve to push in the pin. Really, he should do it sooner rather than later. The ice won’t numb his ear forever. He presses the pad of his index finger at the back of the lobe, and pricks Nam-gyu’s skin. Predictably, there’s blood. Thanos leaves in the safety pin while fumbling for the studs. He wipes off most of the mess on his knuckles, and quickly replaces the pin with the earring proper.

He leans back and admires his own handiwork. Not bad, all things considered. He thought there’d be more squirming. Nam-gyu’s ears must bleed more than the average person though. Thanos doesn’t remember there being this much when he got his own pierced. Unwilling to wipe the blood on his pants, he brings his knuckles to his lips. His tongue outstretched, lapping up the blood like it’s milk.

It’s hard not to feel Nam-gyu’s eyes on him. Utterly transfixed. Thanos stares back, unwilling to drop his gaze first. When he’s gotten his fill, he wipes the spit off on his shirt.

“See? That was easy. Ready for round two?” Without another word, Thanos is invading Nam-gyu’s space again. Grabbing another cube of ice and pressing it to his ear like it’s routine. In goes the pin, out goes the pin. In goes the stud, closed off by the metal backing. The blood gushes from Nam-gyu’s ear, brushed aside gently by Thanos’ thumb. He sticks his thumb into his mouth and hums. Swirling the bitter metallic taste around with his tongue.

By this point, he’s practically halfway onto Nam-gyu’s lap. It’s hard to tell if his pupils are dilated to hell because of the drugs, or because of everything that’s happened thus far. He takes his thumb out of his mouth with a pop, and strokes it across the slope of Nam-gyu’s cheek. It leaves a trail of lightly pink-tinted spit across his skin. An act he’d typically be crucified for, but Nam-gyu seems to be rendered speechless for once.

The other man tucks his head under Thanos’ chin. Adjusts himself once, then twice, before laying his head fully against Thanos’ chest. He waits for a visible reaction. He watches a hand donned with black polish reach up for his own ear, hovering over the purple studs. Nam-gyu’s fingers clasp the air, too afraid to touch the piercing proper.

A chuckle rumbles against Thanos’ chest. It quickly turns into a fit of giggles, and all he can make of it is a frantic, almost relieved noise of: “We match.”

His heart jumps and forms a lump in his throat. Polish be damned— Thanos’ hands find themselves at his shoulder blades. Equal parts soothing, equal parts as excited as Nam-gyu is. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of his head. Quick, nothing special at all, really. But it’s enough to make Nam-gyu look up from his hiding spot. Staring at Thanos knowingly. Almost expectantly. And the idea of him knowing is scarier than anything else he may have possibly ever faced.

“I— Yeah. Yeah, we do.” He thumps his head against Nam-gyu’s. Hair intermingling with the earring. Really, it’s indistinguishable. Thanos’ presses his cheek against his forehead, ignoring any protests and complaints about silly things like “not being able to breathe”. He’s allowed to bask in the moment.

Nam-gyu turns around and plucks one of Thanos’ hands off his shoulders. He squints scrutinizingly, and sighs when he realizes there’s nothing to complain about. “You didn’t smudge it yet. I’m impressed.”

“Mm. What can I say? I love the way you did it. Wouldn’t wanna fuck that up yet.” A wince. Thanos pulls his hand away. Too obvious. “You blow most of my other stylists out of the water. Makes me wanna pay you for it.”

Nam-gyu snorts, but accepts Thanos’ cowardice with grace. “Yeah? With what money?”

Thanos pouts. “I didn’t say I’d pay you with money. You’re just assuming shit, my boy.” He pushes his face away. Unmelded. He raises his eyebrows and gives Nam-gyu a sultry grin, “How about I pay you in…exposure?”

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Nam-gyu’s seems to have reached his limit for bullshit today. He jostles Thanos off with his knee, and pulls back. A hand raises up as he fiddles with his own piercing, “How long’s this supposed to take to heal anyways?”

A raise of his eyebrows. Has Thanos finally given him something other than his hair to play with? He shrugs in response, “A month, or something like that. Healing for it isn’t really linear. Why? You wanna take it out or something?”

He delights in the way Nam-gyu momentarily ducks his head. Too quickly, he regains his composure and stands up fast, wobbling on his feet. “No— I’ll take your word on it. That sounds about right.”

Thanos brushes off the rest of his spit-covered fingers on his pants. He leans back and takes in his pride and joy, “See? Don’t worry about it. That thing’ll be healed up in no time!”

( In less than a week’s time, Thanos pays for his own words. They have to drain some of the meager savings they have to go towards the antibiotics for Nam-gyu’s infected ear. Thanos is sure his own ears are about to go necrotic with the amount of bitching he’s forced to deal with.

He does feel a little bad though. He had astronomically fucked up his own gift, and turned up empty-handed when it came time to trying to score something new for them. Disappointment after disappointment. Three cheers for Thanos!

…His only solace is that despite everything, Nam-gyu keeps the piercings in once it’s all healed. He doesn’t even change out the studs. )

Club Pentagon was a familiar scene. Nowhere near where Thanos had started out— but a place he frequented once he made it big. He hadn’t known Nam-gyu then. Not really. Sure, he was around his circle a lot, and brought him drugs, and scored him a free drink or two…but he hadn’t paid him much mind at the time. 

That wasn’t to say it wasn’t fun to invite him over tableside. Nam-gyu would happily shirk his duties to hang out with Thanos and whatever groupies he had with him for the night. Sometimes, the guy was more fun than the company he had originally brought. Always laughing, always willing. A fun time was had whenever he visited. He was lucky that the guy was enough of a workaholic to work most of the shifts Thanos was there for.

Close, but still kept at a distance. Just the way Thanos liked it.

Their dynamic to the outside world probably hadn’t changed much in that regard. Here was Thanos, working another show. Trying his best not to wallow. And by his side was Nam-gyu, who had stopped providing him free drinks around an hour ago.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but you’re cut off. I still have two more hours, and who the hell do you think is gonna be the one dragging you home?” A finger jabs into his chest. Thanos is all too aware of the people staring at them, but can’t find it within himself to care. Nam-gyu is apparently too frustrated to keep up appearances at the moment. “Just wait. We’ll get something after my shift, yeah? It’s just another hour or two.”

He sighs and slumps across the wood of the bar. His Nam-su’s so mean to him. Not giving him a damn drink on a night where he needs to be shitfaced. Thanos barely got one glass in before Nam-gyu put a stop to it. Something about being tired of having to drag Thanos halfway across the city after a long shift.

“Don’t you think I deserve one?” There goes Thanos, pushing at his buttons. Looking up from the bar and brushing his fingers against Nam-gyu’s hand, “I put on one hell of a show, you know. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

There’s a clear break in his resolve. Nam-gyu looks back toward the rest of the bar, to the people pretending not to watch their argument. He doesn’t pull his hand away. He sighs and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, “I have another two hours, hyung. And I wanted to—“ Nam-gyu lowers his voice, not quite meeting Thanos’ eye, “I thought we could celebrate that kind of thing in private. After I’m done.”

Oh, and there goes that feeling in Thanos’ chest again. The one that makes his self-assured grin turn shy. The one that makes him have to look away in turn. The one that turns him into an idiot. He brushes his thumb soothingly against Nam-gyu’s knuckles, and then grasps his wrist. “…Two more hours. Right.” He decides to pivot, loosely gesturing with his free hand, “You know, I think I’m technically a client here tonight. What with the show and all. How about you hang around my side for the rest of the night and, y’know, promote this place to me! I’m sure your boss wouldn’t mind.”

He waits for that final crack in Nam-gyu’s armor. The offer hangs in the air for one second, then two…and then Nam-gyu’s biting down onto his lip. Sold! It’s an easy thing to bet on during nights like these. Nam-gyu can barely stand any of his normal clients, and his energy’s taken a significant dip. Something about Thanos’ shows bringing in “the biggest idiots this city can find”. Whatever the hell that means.

“Fine, fine!” Nam-gyu pulls back and smooths out his hair with both hands. Nervously glancing from side to side, like the idea itself is somehow scandalous. Maybe it is. “If only because I can’t stand getting another drink almost spilled on me.”

Thanos pumps his fists in the air and gives a cheer for good measure. He stands up and jostles the empty glass by his side, “Come on then! Let’s get you out from behind the bar. It’s gettin’ all stuffy around here.”

It’s second nature for him to gravitate towards the dance floor— high fiving people he barely knows along the way. All congratulating him for a show well done. Nam-gyu protests the whole way there, but makes no move to break away. He stays by his side, shoulder to shoulder. Pulling Thanos away by his waist any time someone tries to talk to him for more than a second. It’s thrilling. He doesn’t even have to push his buttons himself. The presence of the crowd alone does it for him. 

Crushed by the bodies around them, they’re forced to squeeze closer. Nam-gyu fists his hand into Thanos’, slotting their fingers together. Not wanting to lose him in the crowd, he figures this is as good of a stopping point as any. Turning around, he catches the slivers of dancing light falling across Nam-gyu’s form. It bounces through the moving bodies of the crowd, and basks him in a shifting purple hue. Nam-gyu squints at the light and tries to cover his eyes with his elbow. Thanos laughs, grabbing his arm to bring it down.

“Shouldn’t you be used to that by now? It’s not like it’s your first day here.” He tries to swing his arm, but Nam-gyu stands as stiff as a board. “Come on. Dance with me!”

Nam-gyu’s face glows considerably red, even under the purple light. He gives Thanos a curt nod, and at the very least follows his lead. The energy of the crowd proves infectious over time. Thanos jumps in tune with the beat, and Nam-gyu holds onto his sleeve for balance. At one point, some jackass bumps into him and they nearly trip over themselves. Instead of Nam-gyu chasing the bastard down though, he breaks out into a full-belly laugh. Thanos can’t help but join in. Nam-gyu stumbles as his laugh peeters out, bumping his head against the crook of Thanos’ neck. He wraps his arm instinctively around him.

He feels the other snort into his skin, “We look so fucking stupid right now.” Nam-gyu shifts, his hair brushing against Thanos’ bare skin. He peers at him through one half-lidded eye. “...Why’d you bring me out here with you?”

And, well. There’s a multitude of reasons for that. Maybe he just likes the way he looks under the club lights. Blending together with them like he’s where he belongs. It makes Thanos wonder what he’d look like on stage. Well lit and beautiful, shining off his sweat from a particularly difficult performance. Right by Thanos’ side. And it’d only be natural to show him off to the world then. They’d see him exactly as he did. And maybe they’d be forced to accept it. Go with the new flow without question.

Maybe he just wanted to celebrate something going right for them. Between this shift and Thanos’ show, they won’t have to struggle as much as usual. They were both getting back on their feet. Didn’t they deserve to have a little fun? For once? After months of struggle and chasing after cheap thrills to distract themselves from it, they could finally risk getting a little comfortable again. They could stand on their own two feet without the threat of being knocked down quite as hard.

Or maybe he just wanted to dance with him. It could’ve all been as simple as that.

Thanos looks to the side and shrugs. The light in Nam-gyu’s eye is too bright to look into. He’s sure he’d blind himself in it. “Thought you could use a break from all the creeps hitting on you up there. You looked tired.” He pauses, and brings a hand to the other man’s lower back. “And hey, this has been fun, right?”

“Yeah. Fun.” He feels Nam-gyu tuck himself away into his shoulder. Thanos mentally kicks himself— why is he always fucking this up? He can’t go a day without saying something that makes him all sullen. A moody Nam-gyu doesn’t fit in tonight’s equation. That was supposed to be Thanos’ job!

A leg slots between his own, and he’s snapped out of his train of thought. Well, that’s alright. Maybe someone knocked Nam-gyu off balance without him noticing. The guy’s just trying to readjust himself. That’s quickly proven wrong as the leg presses up, circling against his groin in a slow grind.

It takes him completely off guard. His knees nearly buckle, and the only thing that saves him is Nam-gyu holding him up. In the sea of bodies, nobody’s really paying them much mind. Nam-gyu’s never this bold unless he feels like he can get away with it.

Thanos swallows. “I thought you said we should celebrate it at home?”

He can feel Nam-gyu’s grin against his shoulder. Sharp, cold, and most importantly? Unforgiving. “Thanos. This is just us pregaming it.” Thanos hisses as his leg jerks up again. “You’ve been so nice to me tonight. The least I can do is repay you for it.”

“You’re really gonna do that? In front of alllllll these people?” That’s enough to make him remember his shame. Thanos laughs as Nam-gyu gets red down to his neck, and buries his fingers into his hair. He leans in close, just enough to feel his breath on his lips. It’s dangerous to be entangled like this. But really, who’s paying attention to that sort of thing? He presses his lips against Nam-gyu’s, shielding his face with his other hand.

When he pulls away, Nam-gyu looks absolutely awestruck. His mouth is still open and he’s looking up at Thanos like he hung the stars. He tugs the back of his hair to snap him out of it. “Come on. I know you’ve got some seedy back corner around here. Pay me back there. I don’t wanna share it with anybody else.”

Nam-gyu nods once, tucks his hair behind his ears, and then nods again before taking Thanos’ hand. He grins wolfishly as they weave through the crowd. They eventually approach some shitty bathroom across the other side of the club. He watches Nam-gyu make sure the coast is all clear before he’s suddenly pulling Thanos in by the front of his shirt. Their lips crash together, and they fumble into the biggest stall. His hand reaches for the lock. Once it clicks shut, Nam-gyu’s truly all over him. Cold fingers jam themself into every sliver of reachable skin, searching up Thanos’ shirt and pressing against his lower belly.

His head hits the stall door with a thump. Nam-gyu snickers at his reaction, and keeps up his game. Popping open the button on his jeans with nimble fingers. Breaching the hem of his pants just enough to push them down. He kisses the side of Thanos’ neck, careful not to leave any marks. Thanos wishes he would. Just so he has some kind of lasting evidence of this.

It’s a thought quickly forgotten as Nam-gyu starts to sink down to his knees. The moment that he feels the press of lips against the fabric of his boxers, he knows he’s in for a long night. Thanos shivers and tugs encouragingly at his hair. Nam-gyu chuckles against him, the vibrations traveling up every vertebrae of his spine. Open mouthed kisses mark the fabric, accompanied by the careful press of Nam-gyu’s tongue. The soles of his shoes scuff the floor in an attempt to stay still. A low groan reverberates in his chest, and his eyes squeeze shut.

Nam-gyu’s fingers finally tug down his boxers, and his dick springs into the open air. Looks like he’s just as impatient as he is. He hears Nam-gyu spit into his hand, and braces for the feeling of his palm wrapping around him. Cold skin glides against the vein. Gradually, Nam-gyu works him up more and more until Thanos is squirming against the stall. Maybe it’s something in the air tonight, but he’s more pliant than usual. More willing to let Nam-gyu take his time.

There’s something exciting about keeping his eyes closed. He can’t predict what comes next. All he can do is uselessly rut into his hand. However, they can’t help but fly open once something warm and wet laps at the head of his dick. And there’s Nam-gyu on the ground, hair fucked up from how hard Thanos has been gripping at it. His pupils are completely blown out, presumably drunk off of watching Thanos’ reactions. He takes in a deep breath and holds his hair a little tighter.

“Fuck,” He exhales, gently rocking his hips against Nam-gyu’s tongue. “You look so fucking pretty for me down there. Wanna open up a little wider for me? I need to— I need it.”

Nam-gyu obeys without protest. His lips fully part, and he slides halfway down Thanos’ length. Never breaking eye contact as he starts to bob his head. Thanos takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. His hands are as shaky as Nam-gyu’s typically are as they wind up in his hair. Delicate, more careful than he usually is, he thrusts his hips in time with him.

It’s almost embarrassing how tightly wound up he is. Before Nam-gyu, before any of this, he was completely unaffected. Nonchalant. Content to take things at his own pace. But with Nam-gyu as his equal, it takes some of the control he has off of his plate. It makes him stupid. Weak. Really, he should be more pissed off about it, but–

A broken moan makes its way out his throat as Nam-gyu takes him deeper. He doesn’t mind giving up control as much as he thought he would. Even if Nam-gyu has him by the balls, he’s not lording it over him. He has no reason to. Nam-gyu actually likes sucking his dick as much as Thanos likes having his dick sucked. And maybe it was a little weird at first, but it’s another one of those things that just clicked in place. Nam-gyu liked making him feel good, and well, who was Thanos to stop that?

Nam-gyu’s hand winds around his thigh, pinning Thanos’ shaking leg against the stall. His nails knead into the flesh, equal parts soothing and torturous. He hissed through his teeth. Thanos swipes a thumb at his waterline, pulling down the pretty tears gathered in there. “My Nam-su…you’re doing such a good job,” He coos, snapping his hips up, “I can’t wait to bring you home tonight.”

He shudders as the man below moans around him. His hips fall out of time again, dick hitting against the roof of Nam-gyu’s mouth. Instead of him spluttering or pulling away, he takes it with grace. Hell, with the way his nose is practically pressed against the hair of his groin, Thanos is confident enough in thinking that Nam-gyu’s right where he wants to be. “Hah— is that why you brought me back here? You lookin’ for something specific later?”

He’s met with Nam-gyu’s eyes snapping up to face his own. The way his face burns is a dead giveaway. Thanos’ gut floods with heat as the ideas start to churn in his brain. “Come on. You know I’d do anything. So it’s gotta be something really juicy.” Nam-gyu’s throat spams around him, and he starts to grin. “What? You wanna ride me? Have me bend you over a counter? Tie you up? Come on. Tell me.”

The hand in Nam-gyu’s hair tightens. But instead of pulling him off to have him answer, Thanos pushes him further down the length of his dick. Now there’s the spluttering. “Aw, that’s right. I forgot that you’re kinda busy at the moment. You wanna know what I’m thinking of doing?” It’s completely rhetorical, but with the smoldering look in Nam-gyu’s eyes, Thanos just knows that he’s dying to ask. Too bad. 

Weak as ever, Thanos caves immediately. “I think I’m gonna take my time with you.” Nam-gyu’s nails dig further into his thighs. Thanos inhales sharply, but continues on. “Mm, yeah. Think I’m gonna do all that and more. Gonna play out all those fantasies you’ve got cooked up in your brain. You got a list, Nam-su?” He laughs breathlessly. “We can do it in alphabetical order, if you want.”

And see— usually that kind of talk would earn him nothing but an eye roll. But it seems to have an effect on Nam-gyu this time around. Without any prompting, he grabs at Thanos’ ass and pushes him forward. Spit dribbling out the corner of his lips, on the verge of gagging, but he doesn’t relent. Instead, he stares Thanos down. Throwing down a challenge. The look in his eyes burns like the sun.

That heat spindles like twine, coiling and wrapping around itself until it snaps. With a final shallow thrust, Thanos finishes across Nam-gyu’s tongue. The music pounding in the building muffles his cries, not like he cares much if they're overheard. Nam-gyu would probably have a conniption over it, but it’s not like anyone who’d listen in actually matters. The only ones who do are the two of them. 

His high is over a lot quicker than he wanted it to be. It’s to be expected— the shittiest stall in Club Pentagon isn’t the greatest place in the world to be doing this. Nam-gyu finally pulls off, coughing and wiping the spit away from his mouth. Thanos gently cards through his hair, more reassuring than he’d typically be.

“Ugh. You’re such an ass. I still need to talk to people to do my job, you know.” Nam-gyu rubs at his throat. Thanos doesn’t respond, too transfixed by the obvious hard-on the other man’s sporting through his jeans. Nam-gyu draws no attention to the problem at hand. He coughs, “Shit, we need to get back on the floor. They’ll cut my hours if nobody sees me for a while.”

Thanos watches as Nam-gyu “subtly” presses the heel of his palm against his groin. Seemingly torn between chasing his own pleasure and willing it to go away. Nam-gyu goes to stand, and Thanos’ spit-covered dick is forced to face the cold open air. He tucks himself back into his boxers. Half-embarrassed at the moment being over so soon. Then again…

His eyes flicker down to Nam-gyu’s pants, who’s too busy getting to his feet to notice. It doesn’t have to be over. Not just yet. Nam-gyu goes to reach for the lock, and before he can yank it open, Thanos grabs for his wrist. Nam-gyu shoots him a questioning look, but doesn’t move. There’s a certain stillness in the air. Electricity begins to build in the space between them as the seconds tick on. The hair on the back of Thanos’s neck stands up.

Reverently, he begins to sink to his knees. One hand holding onto Nam-gyu wrist, the other trailing the smooth fabric of his shirt before it meets the rougher texture of his jeans. Thanos dares to peer up at him. Nam-gyu stands perfectly still, a little slack jawed. Unwilling to believe in the sight before him. Thanos presses his face against pure denim. His cheek rubs against the zipper, dragging across it insistently as it clicks and jingles.

“You really planning on walking out of here with this?” Thanos presses his lips to cold metal. Trying his best to get a read of the playing field, he does it again. “Come on. You know I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Thanos…“ Nam-gyu shifts like he’s about to leave, but his fingers wind around the back of Thanos’ neck. Conflicted. “You don’t have to. This was, I mean, it's your night—“

“Please.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, more desperate than he originally intended. Nam-gyu’s mouth snaps shut. Staring down at Thanos with a bewildered expression. Thanos groans in exasperation, and takes the zipper between his teeth. He grunts out between them, “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to. Please.”

It’s hard to look Nam-gyu in the eyes after asking him something like that. But he dares himself to. Not turning away from the light, even if it blinds him. A challenge he won’t back down from. Nam-gyu’s nails scratch where his hair is shaved short, a pleasant buzz amidst everything. After staring down at Thanos in turn, he nods, and unbuttons the top of his jeans.

“Fine. If you insist.” Uncaring, like he’s not pulling him closer as he speaks. Thanos grins through the metal, and finally pulls down the zipper with his teeth. His thumbs push their way into the belt loops of his jeans, and he tugs them down. He’s face to face with a fine pair of black boxers that Nam-gyu had chosen this evening.

Now, let it be known. Thanos has no idea what he’s doing here. Sure— had he sucked on the tip of Nam-gyu’s dick a couple of times? Maybe even gone a little further than that? Yeah. But that kind of thing was an appetizer for the main course. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a total novice. A fact both he and Nam-gyu were far too aware of.

He feels a little stupid kneeling down there while doing nothing, though. So he starts out with the familiar— pressing his mouth against fabric. Teasing, slow, for both his own sake and Nam-gyu’s. Spit soaking the material as he mouths the length of his dick. He feels a hand start to grip at the top of his hair, so he figures that he must be doing something right.

Although— Nam-gyu would probably kill him if he had to walk around work for another hour with wet boxers. Shit. He shifts his priorities, deft hands starting to breach the elastic of his boxers. Fingers pooling against warm flesh, pressing at every warm crevice he can reach. One hand finds a home against the notch in Nam-gyu’s pelvis, and he finally pushes everything down. Fabric pools around Nam-gyu’s thighs.

Thanos spits in his hand and wraps it around Nam-gyu’s dick. Long, slow strokes are the name of the game as he takes his time to explore. His lips latching against his inner thighs, followed by teeth. A litany of kisses and bites mar his skin. It’s a gift to his future self, truly. The picture he’s painting in his head of Nam-gyu in the morning, the bruises on his thighs highlighted by the early morning light…yeah, he deserves a prize for thinking ahead.

He drinks in the moans and praise from above like its nectar, continuing his journey up before he’s confronted with the challenge at hand again. Nam-gyu’s dick stands at full attention, pretty as always, but it seems almost daunting now. Thanos is nothing but confident. It oozes out of his every thought, every action. But now? He’s hesitant. He really doesn’t want to fuck this up. Not now, not ever. And yeah, he could just give Nam-gyu a sub-par handjob and get it over with, but that’d be chickening out. 

He takes in a deep breath and readjusts. He wouldn’t just be disappointing Nam-gyu after all this buildup, but he’d be disappointing himself. Moving in closer, he kisses against the vein of Nam-gyu’s dick. Open mouthed and heavy. Tongue running along the side of smooth skin.

There’s a sharp tug to his hair and looks up. And there’s Nam-gyu again, as handsome as ever. Clearly still unsure, but there’s another look brewing in his eyes. Something softer. A thumb rubs soothingly against his scalp. “Just— take your time. Seriously. If you choke on it and throw up on me, I might kill you.” Light and completely unserious. Probably.

Either way, it’s the exact kind of motivation that Thanos needs. He nods and gets back to task. Dragging his tongue up from base to tip. Trying to properly map out familiar territory. His mouth waters at the way Nam-gyu’s hips twitch at his every move. Just barely restrained. Thanos readjusts his grip, and presses his lips against the head of his dick. Weeping, slightly salty. If anything, the taste encourages him to finally take the plunge.

Finding a rhythm doesn’t come as easily as it usually does. Nam-gyu makes it look so simple. But Thanos finds himself in a loop of moving his head down, briefly stopping, and then having to move back up again. Three steps forward, two steps back. Drool starting to trickle down his chin in the meantime.

His only solace is the man above him. Nam-gyu whines and groans, nails digging into his scalp. Thanos gags at one point as his dick hits the roof of his mouth, and Nam-gyu soothes him. Muttering into his own shoulder, “No, no, it’s okay— you’re doing so well. Just breathe through your nose. Yeah? Fuck, Thanos, it feels so—“ He makes a strangled noise, and that’s the end of that.

At least he’s not making a complete fool of himself. And at least Nam-gyu seems to like it. He bobs his head with more effort, ignoring the spit on his lips. Whatever he can’t fit into his mouth, he wraps a hand around. Moving it in time makes Nam-gyu’s concentration falter. He bucks his hips into his mouth, hissing apologies through his teeth. Thanos has learned his lesson this time, swallowing around Nam-gyu and carrying on.

The less he stresses, the easier it gets. And fuck, what the hell was Nam-gyu talking about earlier? Seeing him like this is as good a gift as any. It’s all about new angles and perspectives. And right now, looking up at the man in front of him as he writhes against a bathroom stall? He thinks it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever witnessed. And when they can finally ditch this place, only to repeat it all again at home? That’ll be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Moment upon moment in his memory, masterpieces of Nam-gyu lined up in his brain.  

He almost gags again as Nam-gyu’s hips jostle again. But instead of holding deathly still after the fact, they keep moving. Thanos quickly has to adjust, lest he chokes. Nam-gyu throws one arm over his face, and pushes down Thanos’ head with his free hand.

“Shit! I’m sorry—” He hiccups, but shows no signs of stopping, “I can’t, I can’t stop. Please don’t make me stop, Thanos. Your mouth feels fucking amazing. God, how have we not done this before.”

How indeed. Thanos is working around too much of a mouthful to answer that seriously, so he lets Nam-gyu guide him. His knees start to ache beneath him, and his throat’s going to be screwed up for days, but he can’t find it within himself to care. All that physical pain doesn’t matter right now. It falls second to his goal of wringing as much as he possibly can out of Nam-gyu. If only they were anywhere else in the world.

Nam-gyu visibly teeters on the edge. His rhythm’s all screwed up, chasing the high one moment and then slowing down the next. Torn between taking what he wants and savoring it. Torturing Thanos and his poor throat in the meantime. His poor Nam-su doesn’t know what he wants. And hey, that’s okay! Thanos has a few tricks up his sleeves to take matters into his own hands.

And up snakes his fingers around Nam-gyu’s shaky thighs. Poking and prodding at marks that’ll certainly become bruises. But that’s not what he’s looking for. His forefinger and thumb rest against his pelvis, soothing stroking it in short bursts. Without any warning, he goes to reach behind the good ol’ family jewels. All it takes is the press of his thumb against Nam-gyu’s taint, and—

The back of his head is grabbed with both hands. Thanos takes a deep breath through his nose, and resigns himself to his fate as Nam-gyu face-fucks him with a new fervor. Apologizing the whole way through. Truly, he has nothing to be sorry for. Thanos is having the time of his life, rubbing lazy circles around that small patch of skin while trying not to gag.

All it takes is a little extra exploring for it to end in an instant. His forefinger gently runs over a familiar ring of muscle, and Nam-gyu’s knees buckle. He cums with a shout, hands gripping for purchase at short purple hair. Thanos swallows around him, not wanting to fuck it up at the final hour. It’s a little bitter, but then he considers what his own cum probably tastes like with their piss-poor diets, and mentally shuts the hell up about it. Not like swallowing does much to help. When he finally pulls off, drool pours from his mouth like a waterfall. He wipes spit-slick cheeks on Nam-gyu’s open thighs. Leaning against them for support.

The only thing seemingly holding Nam-gyu up is the weight of Thanos against him. He gets a little cloudy eyed after the fact. Shaking almost as bad as when he goes through withdrawals. It’s Thanos’ job to work him down from that high, to get his mind back in the right place. He kisses the warm, accessible flesh under his face softly. Soothing over old scars and fresh bruises alike. 

“Nam-su, my boy.” Nam-gyu lifts up his head, blearily staring down at Thanos. Thanos gives him a wolfish grin in response. “I didn’t know you had that kinda thing in you! You been holding out on me?”

Usually it’d be at least a little mocking. But Thanos is downright mystified. He feels like he discovers new things about Nam-gyu every day. Peeling back layers upon layers of wrapping just to see new patterns on the paper beneath. The gift that just keeps on giving. He runs his palms down Nam-guy’s thighs, delighted in the little jolts it gets out of him.

Nam-gyu eventually swats his hands away, going to pull up his boxers. His face is almost as red as it was only a minute earlier. He clears his throat, “Shit— hyung, I should be asking you that. I never knew you wanted to…” He gestures loosely with his hand. 

Thanos snickers, “What? Suck you off? Man, haven’t I done that before?” He helps pull up Nam-gyu’s jeans over his ass, all gentlemen like. Nam-gyu zips up and frowns, giving Thanos a once over. Before he can ask what the hell is up, there’s hands in his hair again. Embarrassingly, he melts. Letting Nam-gyu tilt his head from one side to the next, checking for…what? Sickness or something? Is it really that uncharacteristic for him? 

“Paranoid…” He mutters under his breath. He listens for that telltale scoff, and the hands are gone again. An unfortunate loss. Nam-gyu wraps a hand under Thanos’ arms, pulling him up from his knees. He’s a little wobbly, but so is everyone else who’s drunk off their asses in here. He’ll fit right in.

Nam-gyu reaches up, hesitates, and decides to rest his hand against the column of Thanos’ throat. His thumb glides over his trachea. “I’m surprised you’re up for talking right now. Does anything shut you up?” He grumbles half-heartedly under his breath. 

Thanos’ heart flutters. He’s surprised Nam-gyu doesn’t notice, what with his thumb wandering closer and closer to the pulse point on his neck. He hurries out a laugh and pulls away his hand, “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you want any chance of shutting me up, Nam-su.”

He’s met with an owlish stare. Slowly, a shit-eating grin starts to make its way onto Nam-gyu’s face. One that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. Thanos feels a chill go up his spine.

“Is that a promise?”

All he can do is nod in response. Nam-gyu laughs behind his hand, turns his head away, and then starts laughing again when he sees the grimace on Thanos’ face. The inevitable click of the stall lock opening seals his fate.

He’s definitely in for a long night.

Sex has always been a constant in their relationship. Even when it wasn’t. Which, sure, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense on paper. They had really only started fucking after they’d both been thrown out on the side of the road. But it’s not like that was really the beginning of it.

There’d been a whole lot of little moments here and there that…really should’ve made the whole thing more obvious. Nam-gyu clinging off him and getting him free drinks at the bar definitely should’ve made that clear. But Thanos had just assumed that he was another groupie looking for an in. A fun guy to hang around, sure, but a groupie all the same.

But there was a reason he had made the first move. As hard as it was to recollect, he does remember it being on a night like this. They were still recovering, licking their wounds in Nam-gyu’s dingy apartment. Back when it had just been his apartment. Not all of the consequences of the games had just been physical. It was something the two of them couldn’t shake. So, naturally, they had gotten high to ignore it.

What he couldn’t ignore was the way Nam-gyu had leaned against him. A solid weight against his shoulders, arms winding around his middle. No sign that he would be going anywhere. No sign that he’d let Thanos up and leave either. At the time he expected that he’d feel too smothered by it eventually. He’d probably have to push Nam-gyu off at some point. But strangely enough, it never got to that point. It made him feel better than the drugs did.

Nam-gyu’s hair had stuck to Thanos’ sweat-slicked skin. His head buried into his shoulder. No longer matted by blood or dirt or whatever the fuck else they had encountered during that week. Clean. Prim and proper, just the way Nam-gyu liked it. It was a soothing thing to run his hand through.

Before he knew it, the other man had ended up on his lap. And, hey— his head was already buried into his shoulder, right? It was only natural for Thanos’ face to rest on top of it. And it was only natural for him to start to pull Nam-gyu closer. And hey, hands naturally wander. So what if they ended up on his lower back. And then eventually his ass when Nam-gyu had rutted against him. And what if they had started making out? And one thing had led to another, and then, and then—

So, yeah. It had been a pretty similar night to this. 

Though, there were some key differences. For one, that had been a spur of the moment kind of decision. They had been building up to this for a while now. Thanos had been itching to try new things after their little tryst in the bathroom. And while it wasn’t anything major, their…whatever it was, was new enough where there was some hesitance. Case in point:

Nam-gyu sits on his lap, red up to his ears. Thanos holds onto his backside, relishing the way his dick slides between his ass. Nam-gyu had been talking in a roundabout way about this sort of thing for weeks now. First it started out with classic locker room talk about chicks who’d ridden Nam-gyu in the past, then it turned into him rutting up on Thanos’ lap more often, and then finally he was able to pick up the hint. He gives Nam-gyu’s ass a firm pat. He really wishes he got the idea sooner.

He watches Nam-gyu’s bare chest rise and fall, pressed up against his own. He starts to lift himself up with his knees, looking down at Thanos over his shoulder. Thanos decides to throw him a bone, holding the base of his dick so Nam-gyu has an easier time staying on target. He sighs in relief as he feels the head touch warm flesh. Bullseye.

They’re more than prepared for this. Thanos had spent far too long watching with hungry eyes as Nam-gyu prepped himself. It took everything in him to not take over, to not have Nam-gyu cum on his fingers right then and there. Patience would be key. Even if it wasn’t a virtue he often adhered to.

After an eternity, Nam-gyu starts to lower himself down. Face twisting with every inch of Thanos he takes. Thanos stays perfectly still. If he moves, he’s certain Nam-gyu will run off like a frightened deer. Cursing himself for ever considering a “stupid” idea like this. And trust him, that is the last thing Thanos wants right now.

He watches with bated breath as Nam-gyu’s ass plops down, a snug fit between his pelvis. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. Thanos can practically feel him vibrating out of pure nerves alone. He gropes for the hand placed next to his ribs on the bed, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Nam-gyu’s breathing stutters, and he falls into that familiar sweet spot in between Thanos’ neck.

“I don’t know if I can—“ Nam-gyu lifts himself up experimentally, only really getting up an inch or two before falling back down again. He shakes his head. “It’s too much. Thanos, shit, it’s too much.”

“Shhh.” Thanos interrupts, giving his hand another squeeze. “Yeah you can. Just…take a sec to adjust. You gotta give it a chance, Nam-su.”

He’s half-sure that Nam-gyu’s about to call the whole thing off. It’s why he’s surprised when he feels spindly fingers clench around his own, as the other attempts to lift himself up again. He falls back down with a grunt, but he doesn’t stop. Thanos swallows thickly. Something about this is affecting him more than usual. Maybe it’s just because of who he’s doing this with. But there’s something unfathomably hot about the way Nam-gyu continues, and starts to actually fall into a rhythm. It’s unsteady, sure, but it’s like he’s finally learning how to stand after years of walking wrong.

Unfortunately, Thanos has spent too long gaping like a dead fish at the sight in front of him. He lets Nam-gyu continue at his own pace before driving his hips up. He feels him clench around him, and almost cums right then and there. Jesus. He needs to get a hold of himself. He hears Nam-gyu giggle at his visible plight.

“What’s the matter, hyung?” Arms loop around the sides of his neck. It makes him delightfully nervous. “Thought you wanted me to give this a chance?” He laughs again, nosing up Thanos’ jaw. Teeth scrape against his skin, and Thanos tilts back his head. So this is it for him. This is how he dies.

“Yeah, well–” He moans as Nam-gyu gyrates his hips. Not appreciating the interruption, he playfully pinches at his ass. “Like I was saying. Didn’t really expect you to drive me this crazy so fast. You’re a natural.”

Thanos punctuates his point with another thrust. It pulls a whimper out of Nam-gyu’s throat, and he absolutely needs to hear that again. Wrapping two hands around his waist, he slowly helps lift Nam-gyu up. There’s a sharp pain on his neck as teeth dig into his shoulder. With their combined effort, they’re able to speed up the tempo.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he mentally wills himself to not blow his load too soon. Not yet. Not when every jolt up sends Nam-gyu into another vocal fit. His arms wind tightly around his middle. He can feel Nam-gyu’s dick rubbing against him, both of their bellies growing stickier with every jostle. Part of him longs to taste it— but that part can always come later.

Nam-gyu suddenly puts some distance between them. Hands grabbing at either side of Thanos’ face. He looks him over, eyes drawn to his lips before he smashes their faces together. It’s sharp. It’s painful. And it’s absolutely fucking maddening. His canines gnaw at skin like he’s actually trying to eat him. Tongues glide together, and Thanos licks up into his mouth like a greedy mutt.

Sharp nails claw into his face and neck in turn. Tearing Thanos apart, who’s more than willing to let it happen. He awkwardly shuffles closer to Nam-gyu, who cries out as both of their stomachs entrap his dick. Heat stirs in his chest, and he breaks off the kiss entirely. Spit hangs heavy between them. He lazily watches the strand get pulled down by gravity, before it lands on their skin, adding to the mess.

Thanos leans in closer and licks a stripe up Nam-gyu’s neck. Mouth flooding with a taste that’s distinctly Nam-gyu’s, his Nam-gyu’s. He groans into his skin, hips instinctively twitching up. It’s hard to not want to eat the other man alive in turn. Tearing each other apart until there’s nothing but viscera left of the two of them. It’s weirdly fitting, in a way. And hot.

Grabbing a hold of Nam-gyu’s thighs, he flips him back onto the bed. It goes against the whole point of this little experiment of theirs, but the other man doesn’t seem to mind it much. He even gets clawed at as a reward— battle scars he’s sure to show off later. Nam-gyu always gets so red whenever he sees the extent of the damage he’s done. It’s cute.

Nam-gyu squeezes his legs around Thanos’ hips, and he takes that as the go-ahead to really start pounding away at him. Drawing out every little gasp and moan that Nam-gyu tries to hide between clenched teeth. He laughs, a little drunk off the experience, and drags his tongue from Nam-gyu’s collarbone up to his ear. He gets a shudder in response, and Nam-gyu’s ankles interlock behind him. 

There’s certainly an attempt to stare him down, but all it takes is a thrust out of time to have Nam-gyu’s eyes rolling back into his head. Thanos would laugh about it, but a distinctive tightness building up in his gut shows that he has no room to talk. His head falls to Nam-gyu’s shoulder.

He bites his lip. His dick feels like it’s being practically strangled by warmth here. And no matter what he does to drag it out, it only gets worse and worse. Shit— he feels like a virgin. 

Looking at Nam-gyu’s hair splayed out on the pillow next to him, he realizes that he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d relive as many “firsts” as possible with him. What he’s done before doesn’t really matter. Because none of that happened with Nam-gyu. 

But it would. He’d go down that list and check off every box with him eventually. Even if it took a lifetime to do so.

“Shit.” He breathes out, sweat dripping down his brow. Thanos forgets all pretenses, and selfishly chases after the flame sparking in his stomach. “My Nam-su…my Nam-gyu. You feel fuckin’ amazing. Just— incredible.”

Thanos keeps going. Frayed at the edges. But he can’t just leave it there. Hands grab at Nam-gyu’s ass again, and he finds himself practically lifting the other man halfway off the bed. He yelps, but shows no other signs of protest. If anything, Thanos is sure the pressure around his waist actually tightens.

“Thanos, Thanos! It feels so good, please don’t—“

“Su-bong.”

“Huh?” Nam-gyu pulls his head to the side, staring at him owlishly. He looks a little ridiculous like this. 

Thanos presses a little closer and raises one hand up. Nam-gyu’s too busy fussing and clutching at the sheets to do it himself, so he brushes back messy hair for him.

“I want— I want you to call me Su-bong when we’re like this,” He rocks his hips a little, never quite stopping. He thinks he’d die if he did. “Y’know. Thought it’d be nice.”

He wasn’t really…expecting that from himself. It puts him a little on edge. Unsure if Nam-gyu will actually pick it up, or just say it to placate him. It’s such a stupid want, need, whatever. It makes him feel like a little kid for even asking.

“…Su-bong,” Nam-gyu says every syllable slowly, like he’s testing the way it feels in his mouth. He blinks. Then suddenly, there’s that familiar smug look on his face. He does his best to rock his hips back in time with Thanos. “Su-bong…Come on. Pick up the pace again. Please.”

And, well…how can he say no to that? Especially when he’s asking so nicely.

Thanos grunts as his hips snap forward. That every present chant of Thanos, Thanos, Thanos has been overtaken by Nam-gyu’s voice, floating above the crowd. Su-bong, Su-bong, please. It tears his heart to shreds. Nam-gyu doesn’t stop, either. His foot grazes against the bumps of Su-bong’s spine. The bump of his ankle smoothing out every ridge. 

And now, for the first time, it’s Nam-gyu and Su-bong. Intertwined together on top of their shitty bedsheets, housed together in their ratty apartment. He bites his lip, trying to resist the sudden urge to cry. He squeezes at the meat of Nam-gyu’s thigh.

He coughs, it’s kind of gross and snotty, but it’s getting too hard to breathe. He risks choking on his own spit. “You’re too good to me,” He’s straining his throat, but he can’t find it within himself to close back up the dam. “You’re fucking perfect. Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you in my bed–”

“It’s my bed.” Nam-gyu sniffs, and then concedes, “...Our bed.”

Su-bong laughs, loud and high. “Yeah, you’re right baby. Our bed.” He can’t resist kissing and biting every inch of skin that he can reach. He even manages to catch the wayward tear rolling down Nam-gyu’s jaw.

“I love this.” He finds himself admitting, stripping himself bare at the altar in front of him. His vision goes off-kilter, but he can’t find it within himself to care. “Love how fucking loud you get. Love the way I gotta be on top of you to make you stop squirming, hah—“

Nam-gyu keens loudly, back arching off the mattress. Jeez. No wonder their neighbors hate them. 

“Keep talking.” Nam-gyu bucks his hips up in the air, the head of his dick catching on the edge of Thanos’ stomach. “Su-bong, I’m almost there. Come on!”

A kiss is pressed hastily to Nam-gyu’s collarbone. Su-bong can’t seem to control his mouth anymore. Words flow out of him without permission, and drool leaks from the corner of his mouth, “Love how you listen to me, even if you bitch and moan about it. I love—“

He falters. Squeezes his eyes shut as he feels the splatter of Nam-gyu’s cum against his lower belly. Whispered pleas fill his ear, and he wills himself to keep going. Teetering on an unseen edge, unable to go over it on his own.

Nam-gyu seems to recognize this, and tired hands reach up to grab at his chest. Shaky thumbs flick against his nipples, and Su-bong can’t help but whine.

“Fuck, baby, Nam-gyu, thank you, thank you—“ Tears finally flood the corners of his eyes, and the tension in his gut shatters. White fills his vision as he ruts into Nam-gyu’s ass, chasing the high. He prays to god that it’ll never end. 

“So good to me. So so so good. Love that, I love that.” Distantly, he’s aware of the fact that he’s babbling nonsense into Nam-gyu’s ear. He’s lucky that he doesn’t seem to mind. “I love this, I love you.”

And just like that, he drops like a dead weight on top of Nam-gyu. Su-bong can feel the fuzziness start to lazily fade out of his system. He buries his head back into Nam-gyu’s neck. Tears mingling with sweat. He loves him. He loves him.

It takes too long for his brain to catch onto Nam-gyu laying as stiff as a board.

Nam-gyu finally chokes out beneath him, “Wh— what did you just say?”

Something in Thanos’ blood curdles. An omen he really, really should’ve realized earlier when he was too busy running his mouth. He contemplates pretending to be asleep, but a loosely-curled fist hits his back.

“Asshole. I’m talking to you! I know you’re not asleep, S— Thanos.”

Back to Thanos already. He winces.

He’s too dizzy at the moment to decipher Nam-gyu’s tone. He sounds pretty upset, though. Shit— he doesn’t have the brainpower for this. Not when his dick is still pressed into Nam-gyu’s ass, sticky and warm. Ugh. It’d be the perfect time to sleep by Nam-gyu’s side right now, why the hell did he have to ruin such a good thing?

“Um, I don’t know what you’re—“ Another thump to his backside. Yikes. There’s no getting out of this one.

He pulls out of Nam-gyu with a hiss. Trying to delay the inevitable. His fingers drum out a nervous beat against the other man’s stomach. Staccato, maybe? Shit, it really does feel like he has brain matter spilling out of his ear.

“…What do you think I said?” Toeing the line drawn in the sand. It may have been a mistake, what with the way Nam-gyu’s glaring at him. A look reserved for the scum he’s forced to interact with at Club Pentagon, the everyday man who slips back into the trash with the rest of them. It makes Thanos’ chest feel hollow.

Nam-gyu entertains him anyways. Entertains the idea that Thanos has no clue what he’s talking about, even if he’s not happy about it. His displeasure is written all over the crease in his brow. 

“You said that you loved me.”

And, Jesus, he doesn’t look happy about it.

“Ahhhh. Yeah, that.” The beat comes to a close. Sudden, unnatural. Not drawn out until it comes to a steady end, both of them asleep, wrapped around each other. The change in routine is seriously throwing him off. The seconds tick on. “Just a slip of the tongue, my boy. You know how it is. I say some crazy shit during the heat of the moment.”

And Nam-gyu would typically have something for that. A sharp comment that’d poke and stick between Thanos’ ribs. Hell, he’d take a perfectly placed eye roll at this point. But the way Nam-gyu flinches back like he’s been hit? Him turning away and visibly deflating? Thanos feels like he’s been shot.

He’s not sure what to do. Even on his worst days, he’s never seen Nam-gyu quite like this. It’s a silence that’s reserved for Thanos’ lows. But Nam-gyu’s never done this, or at the very least, let Thanos see it.

Thanos raises up a hand. It hovers over Nam-gyu’s shoulders. When his fingers finally make contact, he feels the other bristle, but gets no further response. He watches in abject horror as Nam-gyu’s arms wind around his own middle. Seeking comfort that Thanos clearly isn’t fit to give.

“…We cool?” He recoils. It’s not enough. It could never be enough to soothe this. Nam-gyu turns over to face the wall.

Nam-gyu sighs, and says nothing else. Just leaves Thanos’ words to hang in the air. It’s like he’s up on stage again, watching the crowd go silent as he flubs up his own lyrics. Wrong, wrong, wrong—

He clicks off the lamp. Shuffles down under the covers to lay by Nam-gyu’s side. He doesn’t even deserve that much. The only thing he can bring himself to do is rest his hand over Nam-gyu’s elbow.

Neither of them get much sleep that night

Thanos wakes up the next morning with a purpose. And that purpose? To figure out any way to make up for his latest horrific fuck up. At least getting barely any sleep meant that waking up at the ass-crack of dawn had no effect on him. He blinks what little sleep he’s had out of his eyes, and trundles out of bed. 

He takes the time to tuck the covers up to Nam-gyu’s ears. Making sure he stays warm, even with the constant heating issue in his (is it still their?) apartment. Luckily, he doesn’t stir. 

Smoothing out Nam-gyu’s hair, he mentally replays the events of last night. He took the fucking coward’s way out. Sought after authenticity so hard that it looped back around and turned into him hiding it. Shielding it away from the one person he trusted with everything. What the fuck was wrong with him? He sighs and gets off the bed. The mattress dips and springs back into place without his useless weight dragging it down.

He throws on the first hoodie and pair of shorts that he finds on the floor. Not even bothering to sniff-test it. If he’s lucky, he’ll be back before Nam-gyu wakes up. That guy could sleep through an earthquake if you let ‘im. Faced with the cool, misty morning air, he sets off on his quest.

Which…the shorts may have been a mistake. It’s cold as balls outside. But it’s probably just karma getting his ass after last night. Thanos grins and bears it, sighing in relief once he finally catches sight of the store. The heat flows past him as the sliding doors open. Thank god. He wasn’t sure how much more of that he could take.

He runs into another problem once he stops to look at the shelves. Nam-gyu’s not picky, but he is particular about what he likes. He’ll never hear the end of it if he grabs the wrong brand of something…That is, if Nam-gyu chooses to finally speak to him again.

Thanos starts grabbing everything he remembers Nam-gyu snacking on within the past week. He’s got a real sweet tooth at times, usually leaning towards more natural flavors. Like strawberries. But— he feels gross if he eats too much sweet stuff at once. According to the guy, “there’s gotta be a balance, hyung!”

Picking up a bag of savory chips, he rolls his eyes. Sure, yeah. Balance. Whatever the hell that could mean. He still finds himself stuffing it into his hoodie’s pocket. 

He remembers a lot more about his taste than he originally thought. He finds himself taking more time than usual, checking and triple checking the packaging to make sure it’s right. Getting an equal assortment of snacks for Nam-gyu. Putting back anything that doesn’t sound exactly right. What started out as a quick excursion is turning out to be more time consuming than he first assumed. Not like he really minds, but he did want to try and get back before the sun inevitably wakes Nam-gyu up.

Making his way up to the register, Thanos makes sure to pocket a couple of the smaller things. No need to make Nam-gyu worry about them blowing their budget on this. To worry about Thanos “wasting” his money on him. What a ridiculous thought.

Though, he huffs, piling his shit onto the store counter. It’s not like he’s really done enough to refute it. Yet another thing he’s gonna have to make up to him.

Christ, at this point, he should really just make a whole list…

He’s almost too occupied with his own thoughts to recognize a familiar mop of hair at the other side of the store. Thanos cranes his neck to get a better look. No fucking way. Is that—

“Min-su?” He yells out halfway across the aisle. The cashier glares at him, but he pays her no mind. The figure in question yelps and drops all of his groceries onto the floor. 

Oh yeah. That’s definitely him.

Thanos throws just enough money on the counter to cover the cost, and picks up his own bags. One step forward, and Min-su takes two steps back. He tilts his head. Jeez. This guy always has to be fucking weird about shit. But it’s not like he has anywhere to go. Thanos has him nearly backed up into one of the freezers. Besides! He’s just curious.

Turns out, Min-su does have somewhere to run. He abandons his food on the floor, and bolts towards one of the emergency exit doors. Thanos blinks, and then rolls his shoulders. It’s not like this part of his day was really planned, but…

He secures his bags under his arm, and slides across the tile floor. Just barely making it through the emergency exit door before it slams shut. Min-su didn’t exactly get far. He can hear the scurry of his footsteps against the pavement. 

Thanos’ blood rushes into his ears as he continues the gradual chase. Going slower than usual to conserve his stamina, but still trying to keep up with every twist and turn that’s taken to shake him off. Min-su may play the part of a coward, but he’s not very good at the whole prey thing. He keeps making stupid mistakes— like looking back to check if Thanos is still there, for one. Every time his head swivels, he loses his footing like clockwork. His sneakers screech against the ground as he trips over himself to get away.

It’s sloppy. Thanos thinks idly as he stalks Min-su in the early morning air. Like, jeez, is this guy even trying?

With a strategy like that, it’s inevitable for him to end up in a hole he can’t climb out of. Min-su’s mistake comes when he turns into an alley with no real exit. There’s a fence, sure, but Thanos doesn’t really remember him being the athletic type.

Luckily for him, that still holds true. He watches Min-su try (and fail) to scale the fence. It’s honestly kind of sad. Thanos is only a couple of feet away from him by now. Min-su, too busy nursing the gash in his hand from the attempt, doesn’t notice. Their game of cat and mouse has been won. 

Now comes Thanos’ favorite part…batting around said mouse for answers.

“Looks like you ran outta places to hide, yeah?” Thanos laughs a little to himself, and puts his groceries on the concrete. He extends out his right arm and hooks down his thumb. “Game over, Min-su! Looks like you lost. Too bad!”

Min-su doesn’t respond. He stares at him like a deer in headlights and backs further into the gate. It rattles, and doesn’t stop as he continues to shake like a kicked dog. Thanos sucks in air between his teeth. See? Stuff like this takes out all the fun.

“Come on my boy. I ain’t gonna hit you.” He sighs and pushes at his shoulder. “That shit’s over with! You pussied out, remember?”

There’s more of an edge to the end of his words than he meant there to be. But it’s true, isn’t it? Min-su had voted blue. Squandered both of their second chances. Just as they were really starting to get somewhere. So close that Thanos could almost taste the money on his tongue. Well— the metallic tang could’ve been from all the blood he swallowed back there, actually. 

Reality and the high blurred together all too easily. Money or blood or whatever, it didn’t matter. It was supposed to be a second chance. He was supposed to make a name for himself again. And Min-su was supposed to do the same. They all were! Hell, why else would they stay after the first round of bullshit? They knew the risks.

Thanos narrows his eyes. Patting Min-su’s shoulder again, a bit firmer this time. Min-su flinches, but doesn’t say a word. See, he’s not sure how the guy can just stand here and take that kind of shit. Even as a kid, Thanos would kick and bite and scream. Do anything to try and prove that no one could keep him down. Not the world, not his dad, not—

“Whatcha doing here anyways?” He tries to keep it as nonchalant as possible. “You finally waste your cash on a place or something? You know, me and Nam-su have been blowing that shit on—“

“You killed Gyeong-su.” Thanos barely hears him say it. Hidden under his stutter and tendency to mutter words. The only reason he’s sure of it is because of the way Min-su’s looking at him. Stubborn and pissed off. Must’ve finally learned that one from Se-mi, wherever she may be.

His jaw clicks shut. And, well. He’s not sure what to say to that. He didn’t mean to. In a way. He just wasn’t thinking clearly. It was supposed to be funny. Gyeong-su was a fan, yeah, but at least he was fun to hang around. It doesn’t mean that he wanted him dead!

A wince as he thinks about the gunshot. Gyeong-su’s body had fallen limp without any dignity at all. He doubts any kind of explanation would suffice.

Thanos grinds his teeth and shoves his hands into his pockets. Rocking back and forth on his heel. Silent.

“You know that’s not fuckin’ fair.”

Until he’s not. Until the anger and venom bubbles up his throat, and he can’t control the words coming out of his mouth. Maybe he’s being a little too harsh. Taking out his own shit onto Min-su. But he doesn’t really give a shit.

Min-su, predictably, falls back into the chain-link fence again. Doe eyed and wobbly kneed. On the verge of tears (though, when isn’t he?) despite Thanos barely doing a thing to cause it. He kinda gets why Nam-gyu gets so pissed off at this guy so often.

“Look— I didn’t kill him. ‘s not my fault he didn’t get to another door fast enough.” He can still remember the weight of his leg kicking into the other man’s chest, as hazy as it is. It took less effort than expected. Gyeong-su had fallen farther than he thought.

“But you…” Min-su starts, and then stops again. Still too scared to speak his own mind.

Christ. This is going nowhere.

Thanos snaps, “You live around here now?” 

He watches Min-su slowly nod, and then shrink back, like he’s thought better of it. Chewing his bottom lip before he says, “Don’t tell Nam-gyu. Please.”

Huh. His eyebrows raise. Sure, Nam-gyu can be a little prickly at times. And short of shit at talking to most folk. But he sure has Min-su rattled. He waves it off flippantly, “Yeah, whatever. He’s too busy with work to care about that shit anyways.”

Is that revealing too much of his hand? By Min-su’s expression, he seems at least slightly stunned that Thanos knows that much. What gives away too much? How far does Thanos have to open his big fucking mouth until it leads to a scandal neither of them can claw their way out of?

…Then again. It’s Min-su he’s telling this to. He’s practically talking to the open air right now. His shoulders relax. 

“Why’d you chase after me?” Min-su snaps him out of his line of thought. More talkative than usual, it seems.

Thanos scratches his chin. “I dunno. Guess I was bored.” He shrugs, and fiddles with a piece of his hoodie’s fabric. “Haven’t seen anyone else from that hellhole since we all got dumped. Just curious about how you ended up all the way out here.”

The other man goes quiet. Thanos is just about to give up and leave before he hears a meek, “…I didn’t have a place to go. So they dumped me where it was convenient.”

Some part of his brain remembers that. Poor little Min-su, scammed out of his own apartment. No real place to call home. Not without that money. Pleading with him on the cold bathroom floor, not understanding why he didn’t get it. This was their second chance! Why was he wasting it!

A hand reaches up. Rubbing across the side of his neck. Swallowing, like he’s checking to make sure there isn’t a wound there.

“So, you’re stuck here then?”

Min-su’s face twists, “I didn’t— I didn’t say that. I have a place now. It’s not much, but I have a…” He trails off again.

Thanos sighs. Stands up a little straighter and works the crick out of his neck. Nam-gyu will be up any minute. 

One last pat to Min-su’s shoulder, just for the road. The other looks up at him in confusion.

“Least you’re in the area. The Thanos team has to stick together, even in spirit.” He throws a fist into his own chest. Yikes. He’s not even sure if he believes that. By the look on Min-su’s face, he definitely doesn’t.

He’s too fucking sober for this.

“See you around, boy. Let me know when you stop being a fuckin’ buzzkill.” Thanos gives him the good ol’ two finger salute. Min-su just blinks at him. He takes a couple of steps backwards, before turning on his heel to leave the scene.

He scoops up the wayward bags of snacks. Grateful that some loose cat didn’t get into them. Despite his earlier luck, everything is surprisingly in one piece. He takes a moment to thank whatever force is shining down on him. Going home to Nam-gyu empty-handed would be more embarrassing than if he had just never left.

The walk back to the apartment is just as misty and miserable. Thanos is forced to throw up his hood a couple of blocks from the apartment as it begins to lightly drizzle. He grumbles to himself and tries to close the bags as much as possible.

Getting up the stairs is more of a hassle than it should be as that “light drizzle” turns into a pour. Hell, getting into the apartment is more of a fucking hassle than it should be with three different bags in his hands. He had meant to enter quietly in case Nam-gyu was still sleeping. That plan goes entirely out the window as the door slams open. 

He winces. Oops.

Thanos creeps into the entrance and slowly shuts the door behind him. He goes to put most of the bags on the kitchen counter. One particular bag, the one with some of Nam-gyu’s favorite chips and sweets, hangs loosely from his left arm. He turns his head to stare at the bedroom door. 

There’s always the chance he isn’t up yet. Or that he didn’t wake up from the sound of the door. Sure, Nam-gyu didn’t have work yesterday, but he’ll sleep forever if you let him. Especially if he’s exhausted. It’s a small, slim chance, but it’s there.

Step by step, he creaks across shitty flooring and carpet before he’s in front of the bedroom. He takes a deep breath. He’s really trying to not psych himself out. He doesn’t want to have to take a nap on the couch while waiting for Nam-gyu to leave the room. His fingers splay out across the wood. He’s not going to pussy out of this one.

As the door slowly opens, he peeks out his head to get a good look at the room. He sighs in relief at the sight of Nam-gyu, still tucked away in bed. The sheets look like they’ve barely been touched since he left. Thanos goes to close the door behind him. It gives him enough time to plan on what to say to—

“Su-bong?”

His eyes widen by a fraction. Shit, it sounds stupid, but he’s scared to tear his vision away from the doorknob. But he can’t just stand here forever, now, can he?

Thanos turns. And there’s Nam-gyu. Beautiful as ever with his bedhead and tired eyes. And Thanos is faced with the horrific realization that his previous assumption had been wrong. By the look of fresh tear tracks down his cheeks, Nam-gyu’s clearly been up for a while.

Nam-gyu rubs a hand over his face, “Sorry— Thanos. That— I didn’t mean to…” His face suddenly twists, like he just remembered that he’s mad at him. Thanos watches him pull the covers over his chest. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

And there tolls the bell of his guilty conscience again. All he wants to do is crawl up onto the sheets and beg for Nam-gyu’s forgiveness. He’d let the guy hold it over him forever if he could clear this up with just a few simple kisses.

A hand loosely gestures towards the bag in his hand from across the room. “What? Did you leave to get takeout or something?” It’s punctuated with a sneer.

“Nah.” Thanos rolls his shoulders and starts to climb on the bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. By the way Nam-gyu’s looking at him though…he’s able to see through the act. Damn. He was betting on his blindness here.

He grabs the bottom corner of the bag and swiftly dumps its contents onto the sheets. “Went to the convenience store to grab a couple of things.”

Nam-gyu’s hand hovers between them. It slowly reaches down, sorting through the pile of snacks. With the way his brow’s furrowed, he’s searching for something he can’t seem to find. Eventually, he reaches for a bag of chips. He holds it up in the air. Staring at the chips, then Thanos, then the chips again.

“…Thanos. These are all my favorites.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He watches Nam-gyu reach for a container of cookies with his other hand. Bringing it up to his face to get a better look. “You don’t even like half of these.”

Thanos shrugs, faking nonchalance. “So?”

Nam-gyu shoots him a look of disbelief. But he opens the wrapper for the cookies anyway. Pressing the heel of his palm against his eye, like he’s still trying to wipe away any evidence of turmoil from last night.

He plucks a cookie from the tin. Strawberry, he thinks. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nam-gyu bristle. Clearly gearing up to fight about it. Before the storm has a chance to properly brew, Thanos puts a hand on Nam-gyu’s jaw.

“Here. Open.” Thanos presses the cookie insistently against his lips. Nam-gyu blinks. Shoots him a look that reads: Are you serious?

He doesn’t move a muscle. After a moment or two, Nam-gyu opens his mouth and takes the cookie between his teeth. Taking his time to chew. Staring at Thanos like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. When no such thing does, he swallows.

A beat. Thanos wishes that he could swipe his thumb across his lips right now. Lean in and pick up all the crumbs with his own mouth. But he shows some restraint. Especially now.

His only solace lies with Nam-gyu leaning into his touch. Just barely.

Nam-gyu sighs. He looks exhausted. Somehow even worse than he typically does at the end of a long shift. He moves closer, his knees under the covers bumping against Thanos’. Fingers crinkling against tinfoil as he speaks. “What the hell are you playing at?”

“Huh?”

“Leaving like that. Making me think you’re fucking gone for good and then coming back with— with—“ He thrusts the packaging into Thanos’ chest. “This. What the hell am I supposed to think?! Why are you acting like you—“

Nam-gyu shuts his eyes. Shaking his head with a grunt. Trying to reconcile with two conflicting ideas, before deciding on just forgetting them both. Thanos doesn’t think he can really let that stand as is.

“Like I love you?”

Brown eyes widen imperceptibly. Nam-gyu may not think he’s being all that obvious, but to Thanos? There’s fear written all over his face. A deer in headlights. A beautiful, temporary image, marred with light that marks its doom.

All at once he slumps. Dead weight against Thanos’ shoulder. He’s lost all the fight he had left in him.

“Don’t make me say it.” A plea, mumbled into his skin. It tears his chest in two. 

Unfortunately, it’s a wish he’ll have to ignore. Hopefully Nam-gyu won’t mind.

“…I got you those snacks cause I knew you liked ‘em. Made sure they were the right brands too. Cause you can be kinda picky with those, even if you say that it’s fine or whatever. You always like to bitch about it later.” Thanos rests his hand in the back of Nam-gyu’s hair. Simultaneously soothing him and keeping him in place, making sure he listens.

He brushes the hair off the nape of his neck and onto his shoulder. Every strand perfectly in place. “And I watch those shitty horror movies with you, even though you talk through them half the time.”

A touch of his thumb again Nam-gyu’s ear where a healed piercing sits. “And I got you these earrings cause you were sad about not being able to match. Now you match me all the time. Like, you carry a little piece of me everywhere with you.”

Nam-gyu lifts his head from his neck, “Thanos—“

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Su-bong?”

That shuts him up. Gets his eyes all round and wide too.

Su-bong lays his hand on top of Nam-gyu’s. Fiddling with the other man’s rings as he tries to come up with something all flowery and poetic to say next. Like the lyrics he has typed up for him jotted down in his notes app. He could pull that up now, recite sonnets until the sun sets for him, but what tumbles out of his mouth instead is:

“I love you.” He brings Nam-gyu’s knuckles to his lips. Kissing over barely-healed bruises from a tussle he got into at the club just the other night. “I didn’t mean that lame shit before. About it being the heat of the moment, or whatever. I was just…”

Su-bong trails off. Apparently it’s Nam-gyu’s turn to pick up the slack. He snorts, and wraps his fingers around Su-bong’s, “What? Scared?”

He scoffs, “No. I don’t get scared.”

Nam-gyu sighs. Leaning in close to steal a kiss. Su-bong stupidly remains frozen. Left feeling like a teenager again, butterflies in his stomach while he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Nam-gyu pulls away, and outright laughs at the expression on his face.

“You’re such a fucking liar. Shit— you looked like you were about to piss your pants.” He tilts his head, wearing the sweetest smile Su-bong’s ever seen. Su-bong feels a hand wrap around his neck, and suddenly he’s laying flat against the mattress. They’re definitely crushing half of the snacks he spent so long agonizing over, but he can’t say he cares very much about it now.

Nam-gyu settles against his collarbone. He’s practically naked against the covers, but somehow Su-bong feels like the one who’s been stripped bare here. Especially with the fingers flexing against the back of his neck. Nam-gyu sighs and noses up against his jaw, “For the record, I love you too. Just in case you get any stupid ideas again.”

A beat. Su-bong’s pretty sure his heart just stopped. Instead of doing what his gut is telling him to do (which falls somewhere in the middle of breaking into a ballad and buying Nam-gyu a house to celebrate), he gives a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“So…does this mean you’re not gonna kick me out?”

A huff against his hoodie. “Maybe. We’ll see about it the next time you piss me off.” Nam-gyu proves himself to be a massive hypocrite, as his grip on Thanos only seems to tighten at the suggestion.

“Speaking of which—“ Nam-gyu pulls away to look Thanos straight in the eyes. Wuh oh. “If you ever pull some stunt like that again, I’m leaving your partially mangled body in the dumpster for the neighbors to find.”

And then he crashes his lips against Su-bong’s. Truly, it may have been the hottest thing he’s ever said to him.

Nam-gyu kisses him like he’s starving. Which…maybe he is. It’s not like he left a note or anything. Su-bong decides to make it up to him right then and there, arms entrapping the other on either side of his body. He’s pulled closer, and he swipes his tongue against his lips.

Instead of it escalating into something more, the heat slowly starts to temper off. Never truly fading, but it’s brought down to a simmer. Su-bong leans his forehead against Nam-gyu’s as he languishes in it. The kisses stop, but their mouths stay pressed together. Breathing in each other’s air.

He drops to his side, suddenly exhausted. He feels Nam-gyu shuffle in close. But instead of his head burrowing into Su-bong’s shoulder, he brings his hands around his head. Slowly guiding Su-bing to rest against his own. Tears crop up in the corners of his eyes, but he wills them away. Brushing his face past cool skin.

Su-bong cracks open one eye and reaches for the discarded snacks. He picks up a partially crushed bag of chips as a consolation prize. When he cracks it open, he finds that it’s mostly crumbs. He still offers it up to Nam-gyu anyways. “Oh yeah. Guess who I ran into while I was getting these?”

Nam-gyu slithers a hand into the foil, grabbing a fistful of crumbs before bringing it into his mouth. Su-bong feels some of them fall into his hair, but he’s probably put the other man through grosser stuff. Nam-gyu speaks around a mouthful of chips, “Who? Some shitty debt-collector or something?”

He nestles the bag between them, keeping it open for grabs. Su-bong jams his own hand inside in search for at least one partially-whole chip. “Nah, even better than that. You remember that guy Min-su? The one you kept picking on?”

The other man guffaws, “Shit— does he live around here? Fuck, Su-bong. Tell me you hit the guy or something. At least once for me.”

“Nope. Think they just dropped him off around here.” He finally manages to fish out a whole chip, popping it into his mouth. “And it didn’t seem worth it. The guy just kinda ran away and hid.”

“Mm. Yeah. That seems like him.” Is that a hint of disappointment in his voice? Su-bong does his best to crane his neck up in his position. Strangely enough, Nam-gyu does seem weirdly dejected by it.

Su-bong grins and kisses Nam-guy’s jugular. He earns a shiver in return. His smile is all teeth as he presses his mouth against Nam-gyu’s neck, “Awww…don’t worry baby, I’ll get him for you next time. Would that make it up to you?”

A snort. Nam-gyu digs around for a chip in a sea of crumbs. It’s a fruitless endeavor. “Yeah, actually, it would. Especially if you got me more snacks along the way.”

Another kiss is delivered in turn. Su-bong settles in the warm junction between his neck and his shoulders, resting a hand on Nam-gyu’s chest. “Next time, then.”