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Taehyung yawns as he twists the key into the lock, pushing the front door open and mentally thanking God that he is finally home.
It’s been that type of day where Taehyung is excessively tired. It’s not like he did much today; hit the gym before his classes, two that are back to back, both fifty minutes each. Apparently, that was too much for his body because the exhaustion runs so deep it reaches his bones. His whole body aches, and all he wants to do is flop down on his bed and sleep for the rest of the week.
All thoughts of productivity have gone out the window. His mental to-do list—fold the laundry that’s been sitting in the basket all week, vacuum, wash the dishes that are piling up, start on dinner—all of that is going to have to wait, judging by the way he can barely keep his eyes open.
Taehyung’s shoes practically fly off, thumping against the carpeted floor as they land by the door. His jacket is thrown on top of the coat rack next, and his book bag is dropped beside the metal frame of the rack. He’ll pick it up later. The sound of his bare feet padding off to his bedroom fills up the empty apartment. Taehyung assumes Jungkook is still at work—or at least on his way home by now—judging by the way the silence stretches around the house.
Usually, Jungkook would come running like a puppy once Taehyung made it through the front door.
They’ve been roommates for almost a year now; an arrangement that started out of convenience, but somehow turned into something quieter, easier. Natural.
They were only acquaintances before they moved in together; only talking about shared classes and scheduling study sessions. Taehyung had desperately needed someone to move in with him because the rent was getting too expensive to keep paying on his own. Going back to live with his parents or using on-campus housing was simply not an option. He’s gotten too used to his apartment, and the thought of leaving it made his heart ache.
Taehyung didn’t know many other people. Sure, he had friends. But none that he could possibly live with; Jimin had Hoseok, Seokjin had Yoongi— and honestly, judging by the insane amounts of affection both couples display, living with them was simply not an option. Taehyung just couldn’t subject himself to that torture.
One day, during one of Taehyung and Jungkook’s weekly scheduled study sessions in the library, Taehyung couldn’t help but rant about his problem. It was honestly one of the first times they had talked about something other than college.
“I’ll live with you.” Jungkook had said, blinking at him like the answer was obvious.
“What?” Taehyung stared at him with disbelief.
“I’ve been looking for a new place for months, but I haven’t had any luck.” Jungkook shrugged, closing the textbook in his lap.
“Are you sure?” Taehyung asked.
“Why not? It’ll be fun.” Jungkook smiled at him, and Taehyung chose to ignore how his heartbeat sped up at the sight.
Jungkook moved in shortly after that conversation; even had three months of his half of the rent in advance.
Now, they have grown inseparable. They tell each other everything now, even stuff that Taehyung begs Jungkook not to share. He loves listening anyway. They practically do everything together; walk to class, go to the gym, cook, and the list goes on. He doesn’t know when they became so close or how, but he’s so grateful they did. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Taehyung yanks open the wooden dresser drawers and finds his favorite pair of pajamas, slipping them on so fast that it’s almost comical. He slides into his queen-sized bed, wrapping himself in the warm duvet covers and sighs with content.
Taehyung lies on his stomach, face smushed into the soft pillow, limbs spread loose beneath the comforter. The day’s weight still lingers in his bones; his muscles ache, his brain fogs with the kind of tiredness that sinks in deep. He sighs again as he finally allows his eyes to flutter shut, so ready to allow the sleep to take over his body.
In the background, the front door opens with a familiar clack, followed by the shuffle of shoes being kicked off, the rustle of keys on the counter.
Jungkook’s home.
Taehyung doesn’t stir. He just listens to the sound of his footsteps—quiet, purposeful—and then hears them pause outside of his room. Then, the soft click of his bedroom door being pushed open.
A moment later, the mattress dips behind him. Taehyung cranes his neck to peek over his shoulder and catches a glimpse of him; sweat-damp skin glowing faintly in the dim light, eyes heavy with exhaustion, still dressed in grey sweatpants and a wrinkled shirt with his job’s logo plastered on the front. He looks like he’s barely keeping himself upright, like he needs this nap just as much as Taehyung does.
Taehyung frowns.
“Nap time already?” Jungkook asks as he slips under the blanket with him, pressing his body close as he settles in.
“You have your outside clothes on. In my bed.” Taehyung grumbles, half-joking because he really doesn’t want Jungkook to move.
“Sorry, hyung,” Jungkook murmurs, already sinking into the sheets. “Too comfortable to move now.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. Instead, he lets his eyes flutter shut again and quietly melts into the warmth of Jungkook’s arms. His chest presses warm against Taehyung’s back, arm thrown over his waist, pulling him close, his nose nudging lightly into Taehyung’s hair.
He always does this. Taehyung has his room, Jungkook has his, but more often than not, Jungkook ends up in his bed. Taehyung never asked why. He just lets it happen, afraid it’ll stop if he mentions it. And Taehyung cannot have that. He enjoys Jungkook’s company too much, enjoys the warmth that wraps around him, enjoys the way Jungkook cuddles up against him so naturally, like their bodies are meant to fit together.
It’s quiet and warm, and he feels himself melt into Jungkook’s embrace. As he drifts asleep, he can’t help but think about how right this feels.
✩
Taehyung slowly blinks awake.
The room is dim, cast in soft blue shadows from the setting sun behind the blinds, and everything is quiet, and comfortably so. His limbs feel heavy in a pleasant post-nap way.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but he feels well rested. Peaceful. Ready to get up and actually get started on his to-do list now.
Jungkook’s still behind him, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. His arm is heavy around Taehyung’s waist, their legs tangled loosely under the covers. The weight of him is comforting, so much so that Taehyung doesn’t dare shift, afraid of waking him.
And Jungkook waking up before his body is ready is not a pretty sight. Taehyung learned that the hard way.
A couple of minutes pass of Taehyung silently lying there, enjoying the quiet. That’s when he hears a soft, subtle sound in his ear. A breathless sound, so quiet he almost thinks he imagined it.
Taehyung stills, trying to figure out if it’s all in his head when Jungkook breathes out again, this time paired with a low whimper that ghosts hot against the back of his neck.
Taehyung blinks, brows furrowing. He cranes his neck just slightly, enough to glance over his shoulder without disturbing the weight of Jungkook’s arm around him.
“Jungkook?” he whispers, just to check.
No response—unless you count the soft smack of Jungkook’s lips as he shifts closer, pressing his face into the curve of Taehyung’s neck. His eyes are screwed shut, lashes fluttering faintly with whatever dream he’s trapped in. And yeah, there’s a definite line of drool beginning to trail from the corner of his mouth onto Taehyung’s shirt.
Yup. He’s still deep in sleep.
And definitely dreaming, if the small, desperate whine he lets out is anything to go by.
A full minute goes by until—a slow roll of hips against him, unmistakable and very, very deliberate.
Taehyung can feel it. The unmistakable pressure of something hard and hot, nestled right up against the curve of his ass. Taehyung’s breath catches. No way this is happening right now.
Taehyung doesn’t move. He can’t, not when Jungkook is grinding against him like this. Taehyung tries to ignore the way his own dick starts to harden, heat flushing his skin red and sending waves of arousal throughout his body.
And just when he thinks this can’t get any worse—
“Y-Yes...” Jungkook whines, voice soft, laced with sleep and warm against Taehyung’s neck.
Taehyung freezes. Then it happens again. More words, slurred but unmistakable.
“Please... don’t stop.”
Taehyung’s eyes widen, blood rushing straight to his ears—and lower. He’s fully awake now, painfully aware of every inch of Jungkook’s body pressed against his. The lazy rut of his hips has stilled for now, but his erection is still firm, pressed right in between Taehyung’s ass like it belongs there.
Then, barely above a whisper, “Please Taehyung..”
Taehyung nearly chokes on air. Jungkook’s voice is soft, dreamy, but there's an unmistakable desperation laced through each word. He sounds needy. Wrecked. And most importantly, Jungkook just moaned his name. Taehyung doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this.
He knows he should do something; shift away, wake him up, anything, but he stays frozen, every nerve in his body lit up like a struck match. His own cock throbs in his boxers, reacting before his brain can catch up.
He squeezes his eyes shut, heat crawling up his neck and down his spine. It’s like he’s frozen in place. Then, Jungkook’s moans pick up, soft and whiny, each one a little louder than the last. His hips rock again, and each slow roll of his hips only makes the heat between them worse, thicker, heavier, unbearable.
Taehyung has to stop himself from pressing back into it, rolling his hips in time with Jungkook’s. It would be wrong—Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s doing—so instead Taehyung lays still, staring at the wall.
“So deep…so close Tae..” He breathes out dreamily, and Taehyung shivers at both the words and the way his breath hits the back of his neck.
Jungkook breathes faster, desperate gasps breaking through the air, and Taehyung can feel the tremble running through him, tight and barely restrained.
Then, with a final thrust of his hips and a choked-off moan, Jungkook shivers. His entire body tenses for a second, then goes slack with a sigh. A slow warmth spreads against Taehyung’s ass, unmistakable even through the layers of their clothes and the blanket.
Taehyung stares wide-eyed into space, heartbeat roaring in his ears, his own cock throbbing in his boxers.
Jungkook—his best friend— just came in his sleep. Against him. While dreaming about him...
Taehyung lies there, completely stunned and unbearably turned on.
His skin is on fire—every nerve lit up and buzzing, caught between secondhand embarrassment and something far worse: arousal. Hot, thick, impossible to ignore. His cock aches, straining against the fabric of his boxers, and he doesn't know what to do with his hands, with his body, with himself.
He’s still painfully aware of how tightly their bodies are pressed together—the damp warmth of Jungkook’s release soaking through, clinging to the curve of his ass. The ghost of those desperate little moans echoes in his ears, looping over and over until his face burns with heat.
He’s fucked.
He continues to stare forward, unblinking as his thoughts spiral. If he moves, even a little, he might lose control. His heart pounds so loudly it’s a miracle Jungkook’s not awake yet.
But then—of course—he is.
Jungkook stirs behind him with a quiet groan, the kind he always makes when he's waking up too soon. His arm flexes across Taehyung’s waist before slackening again. He nuzzles his face against the back of Taehyung’s shoulder with a sleepy exhale.
Then he goes still. Taehyung feels it; how Jungkook’s entire body stiffens. And he can just tell without even looking at him that Jungkook realizes something’s off.
There’s another short pause until a sharp exhale resounds in the quiet room.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook chokes out.
Jungkook jerks back like he’s been electrocuted, nearly falling off the bed in the process. “Oh my god—”
Taehyung stays frozen on his side, eyes wide and very much not looking at him.
Jungkook sits upright in a flash, one hand pressed to his forehead, the other flying straight to the mess in his pants. Then, his eyes flicker to the wet spot stretched across Taehyung’s ass. His face goes scarlet.
“Did I—” he sputters, barely able to get the words out. “Did I just—fuck!”
Taehyung lets out a slow breath, trying not to let it shake. He forces himself to turn just slightly, resting on his back like it’s no big deal, like his heart isn’t about to explode out of his chest.
“Must’ve been a good dream, huh?” Taehyung jokes, trying to brush this off like it’s nothing, but he’s failing miserably.
“Hyung!” Jungkook whines, hiding his face in his hands, “I’m so sorry. That’s so gross, fuck…Taehyung, I swear I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t mean to, Jungkook,” Taehyung interrupts his babbling and reaches out to grab his arm. “You were asleep.”
Jungkook allows his hands to be pulled away and looks at him with wide, embarrassed eyes—and Taehyung can’t help the faint smile that tugs at his lips. Because honestly, as much as his body is screaming right now, he’s not mad. Not even close.
Just buzzing with curiosity and arousal. Jungkook doesn’t need to know that, though.
Jungkook calms down now, trying to assess the damage, he averts his gaze to the dark, wet spot on the front of his sweatpants. It’s when he looks back up at Taehyung, he sees it. Sees the obvious bulge straining against the material of his thin pajamas.
“Wait,” Jungkook blurts out, breaking the silence, “Are you hard?”
Taehyung’s face goes red instantly. “No.”
“You are!” Jungkook stares, eyes wide, flustered, and very aware now. “Oh my god.”
“I said no,” Taehyung whines, yanking the blanket over him like that’s hiding the tent pitched in his pants.
But Jungkook isn’t horrified anymore. He’s studying him—like something just clicked into place.
“Wait…” he says again, softer this time, face lit with dawning realization. “That’s… because of me?”
Taehyung goes silent. There’s no use in continuing to deny it, right? Taehyung has already been trying to repress these feelings for weeks—shit who is he fooling? It’s been months. Months of dealing with the fact that he could feel himself falling for Jungkook.
Falling for his pretty smile, the way his nose scrunches when he laughs, the way he’s so gentle, unapologetically himself, and how he’s so endearing without even trying. Taehyung loves every single thing about Jungkook.
He just meets Jungkook’s eyes, steady and unreadable, and lets out a quiet breath. There’s no humor in his voice, no teasing grin, no deflection.
“Yes,” he says simply.
The silence that follows is heavy; stunned, electric, and tense.
Jungkook stares at him like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. His lips part like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out. His cheeks are still flushed, chest still rising and falling a little too fast, but his eyes are locked on Taehyung, wide with something softer now.
After a long moment, Jungkook moves. He slides back into the bed, lifting the cover and sliding next to Taehyung. He’s close—so close that it makes his heart skip a beat. He didn’t realize how much he’s been craving this until now—now that he’s staring at Jungkook’s lips and feeling the burning desire to push their mouths together.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers, their faces inches away. Taehyung doesn’t even answer; instead, he pushes their lips together. It’s soft at first and Taehyung takes in the taste of Jungkook’s lips; faint cherry chapstick and sleep. He sighs into the kiss, and Jungkook takes the opportunity to deepen it, allowing his tongue to slide past Taehyung’s lips.
A whimper bursts through Taehyung’s throat as Jungkook kisses him hungrily. Like he’s been waiting for this moment. Like he wants to devour Taehyung whole. Their hands wander; fingers end up treading through Jungkook’s hair, while Jungkook has a hand on Taehyung’s chest.
When they finally pull back, Taehyung’s eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen from kissing, chest rising and falling beneath Jungkook’s palm. His voice is barely more than a whisper when he asks, right against Jungkook’s mouth—
“What were you dreaming about?”
Jungkook’s breath hitches.
He presses his forehead to Taehyung’s, their noses brushing, and lets out a quiet laugh—half nervous, half wrecked. “You,” he admits.
Taehyung’s lips twitch into the softest smile. “Well, I know that much,” He laughs, “What about me?”
“I was on top of you. You were holding my hips…” he admits softly, “fucking up into me so deep, I—I couldn’t breathe.”
“Fuck Jungkook,” Heat curls low in Taehyung’s belly. His grip tightens on Jungkook’s shirt. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Then he leans in again, kissing him like he means it.
Their lips move together so fluidly, so easily, like they've done it before. It turns messy quickly; all heated and urgent. Their teeth clash together, but they couldn’t care less. Taehyung moans into it, fingers curling tighter in the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt like he never wants to let go.
Jungkook presses closer, smoothly climbing into his lap, grinding down slowly, testing. Taehyung’s breath hitches, and slowly pulls away from the kiss.
“ Fuck —gonna make your dream a reality, baby?” Taehyung whispers against his lips, hands immediately finding their way to grip his hips. Jungkook doesn’t answer, just whimpers, rolling his hips again—slowly, deliberately—and eliciting a groan out of Taehyung’s mouth.
They move like that for a while; Jungkook slowly rutting against Taehyung, grinding their erections together until he can feel his cock leaking with need. Jungkook can feel the desperation taking over his body as he rolls his hips with more purpose.
Taehyung’s long fingers dance along the hem of Jungkook’s shirt, “Can I?”
Jungkook nods vigorously, “Please.”
He immediately complies, pulling the wrinkled shirt over Jungkook’s head. Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat as he takes in the younger’s physique; strong muscles with ink swirling around them, broad shoulders, and abs that flex at the movement.
Sure, Taehyung has seen him shirtless before, but this feels different. It is different. Now, he can touch. Taehyung lifts a hand, reverent, and trails his fingers over taut muscle, tracing the curve of Jungkook’s bicep, down to the dip between his ribs. He squeezes gently—testing, grounding himself in the reality of it.
Taehyung barely has time to trace another line down his stomach before Jungkook grabs his wrists and pins them to the mattress on either side of his head.
“I need you inside me,” he says, tone demanding yet so desperate.
Taehyung lets out a strangled groan, hips jolting up instinctively. Jungkook gasps at the sudden pressure, grinding down harder against the bulge in Taehyung’s pants. The friction is just enough to make both of them shudder.
“ Fuck , baby,” Taehyung whispers, eyes fluttering closed for half a second before locking back onto him. His hands are moving before he can think—slipping from the weight of Jungkook’s hands to grip the waistband of his sweatpants and dragging them down over his hips and thighs, until he can toss them to the floor.
The view is breathtaking; flushed skin, trembling muscular thighs, the shiver running across every inch of his body, his cock flushed red and already leaking at the tip. Taehyung gulps as he takes in the sight before him.
Jungkook lifts himself just enough to hook his fingers under the waistband of Taehyung’s pajama pants and tugs them down with trembling hands. His breath stutters, and then he whimpers, eyes wide, as Taehyung’s cock springs free.
Jungkook licks his lips, eyes locked on Taehyung’s cock like he’s in a trance.
“Please,” Jungkook breathes, eyes flicking up to meet his, and rasps out, “Need it right now, Taehyung.”
“Fuck—alright baby..”
Taehyung reluctantly rips his gaze from Jungkook’s body, and reaches towards the nightstand drawer, pulling out lube and a condom with shaky hands. He fumbles with the lube, but Jungkook is quicker. He takes it gently from his grip, their fingers brushing, gaze locked.
“Let me,” Jungkook says, voice steady despite the flush on his cheeks. “I want to do it.”
Taehyung nods, breathless, watching as Jungkook uncaps the bottle and slicks his fingers—methodical, practiced. He leans back, thighs spread over Taehyung’s lap, body on full display under the soft glow of the setting sunlight.
He presses a finger in with a quiet gasp, eyes fluttering closed for a moment, but when he opens them again, he’s looking right at Taehyung.
“Watch me,” Jungkook whispers, and it’s not a request.
Taehyung obeys. He can’t do anything else. Not when Jungkook looks so good like this.
Jungkook works himself open slowly, deliberately—rolling his hips against his hand as he adds a second finger, then a third, his other hand gripping Taehyung’s thigh for balance. Every now and then, he moans softly, just enough to drive Taehyung wild.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Jungkook murmurs breathily. “Dreaming about this. For weeks. About riding you. Stretching myself open for you, just like this.”
Taehyung curses under his breath, fists clenching against the sheets, trying not to cum from just the sight of him.
He hums as he pulls his fingers out, eyes dark and full of desire. Then he shifts forward, grabs the condom, and rolls it onto Taehyung with careful hands—his movements deliberate and possessive. His fingers linger around the length for a second before he lifts himself until he’s hovering over Taehyung’s lap.
Taehyung can’t help it as he grips Jungkook’s waist and guides him down. Jungkook moans, so breathy and pretty as he feels the tip push slowly through the tight ring of muscle.
“Fuck, Tae,” Jungkook whines, slowly guiding himself down, feeling every single inch fill him up, “So big.”
Taehyung groans, fighting the urge to buck his hips up into the tight heat. Instead, he allows Jungkook to take control as he adjusts. Jungkook’s chest flutters heavily as he tries to catch his breath, hands clutching Taehyung’s biceps tight as he breathes through the stretch. And it’s a lot. Taehyung is definitely not small; the length is girthy and long and absolutely splitting him open.
A couple of seconds pass before he gives an experimental roll of his hips and Taehyung whimpers. Jungkook is so tight, sucking him in just right to the point Taehyung is not sure he’ll last very long. His movements become more fluid, picking up the pace as he falls into a rhythm.
He bounces quicker now, soft gasps spilling from his lips with each movement. Taehyung watches Jungkook—how his eyes roll back out of pleasure, how his spit-slick lips are parted as he moans, and how his thighs tremble every time he sinks all the way down like it’s almost too much, but he still wants more.
Taehyung’s fingers dig into Jungkook’s hips, pulling him down with each roll of his body like he’s trying to bury himself deeper with each stroke.
“Did I do it like this, baby?” he growls.
“Yes! Yes, just like that, Tae,” Jungkook moans, his hands splayed over Taehyung’s chest, trying to ground himself.
“You feel so good, baby.” Taehyung grunts, hands sliding lower to grab Jungkook’s ass, fingers sinking into the flesh.
Jungkook’s moans grow louder as Taehyung kneads him roughly, matching each bounce with another sharp thrust.
He meets him halfway now, snapping his hips up, over and over, knocking breathless sounds from Jungkook’s throat he didn’t even know he could make.
“Yes—fuck—yes—more—” Jungkook’s voice breaks as Taehyung thrusts up again, harder this time, the slick drag of his cock punching another moan out of him. His thighs are trembling even more now, muscles taut from the effort of riding and taking and needing. Sweat beads down his temple, his lip caught between his teeth until it slips free with another cry.
“Oh, baby,” Taehyung groans, hands bruising on Jungkook’s ass now, guiding every bounce. “Look at you—fucking yourself on my cock. You gonna cum like this?”
Jungkook nods frantically, eyes fluttering, “Y-Yeah—fuck—I’m so close, Tae, I—oh my god—”
Taehyung thrusts up into him again, right against his prostate, and Jungkook allows a loud, wrecked sound spill from his lips. Jungkook’s body tenses, back arching as his release hits him hard, hot and sudden, spilling across both their stomachs.
But Taehyung doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting up, chasing the release his body’s desperate for. His rhythm falters as Jungkook clenches hard around him, drawing a sharp gasp from his throat. The pleasure crashes over him like a wave.
“Shit—” Taehyung groans, hips stuttering as he spills into the condom. His fingers have a bruising grip on Jungkook’s waist as the waves of his orgasm roll through him.
Jungkook moans softly, rolling his hips in slow circles, milking every last drop, watching Taehyung unravel beneath him.
Small shudders ripple through his body even after Jungkook’s hips still and he collapses against him; body boneless.
He curls up against Taehyung’s chest, breath slowly settling, skin damp with sweat. Taehyung runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair gently.
They lay together in silence for a while, until Taehyung becomes hyper-aware of the mess they’re lying in.
“Be right back,” he murmurs, kissing the side of Jungkook’s head before slipping out of the bed.
He moves around quietly, tosses a towel over the mess on the sheets, and grabs a warm washcloth, clean underwear, and one of the many shirts that Jungkook leaves lying around his room.
He comes back, kneels beside the bed, and presses the warm cloth to Jungkook’s thighs, wiping him down with slow, gentle strokes.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
Jungkook nods, still dazed. “More than okay.”
Taehyung smiles, helps him into clean clothes, then slips back under the covers and pulls him in—Jungkook instantly melting into his arms, face buried against Taehyung’s chest.
They lie there quietly, enjoying each other's warmth. Taehyung’s hand rubs delicate circles over Jungkook’s back.
After a while, Jungkook whispers into his shirt, “I’ve liked you for so long.”
Taehyung’s hand stills. He pulls back just enough to see Jungkook’s face; flushed, sleepy, a little nervous but not hiding anymore.
Taehyung smiles, “Yeah?”
He leans down, presses a soft kiss to Jungkook’s lips.
“But I like you more.” He beams before pecking his lips again.
Jungkook lets out a soft breath, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into the next kiss—slow and lingering.
“Does that mean I’m yours?” he whispers, voice thick with sleep.
“Oh, baby,” Taehyung murmurs, smiling against his lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Jungkook giggles quietly, pressing one more kiss to Taehyung’s mouth before letting his eyes fall closed again, his cheek resting on his chest.
They fall asleep just like that; legs tangled, bodies pressed close, and fingers laced like they never want to let go.