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yoongi never figured himself the type to be weak for faceless rappers on soundcloud. specifically, rough voiced rappers, tone brimming with jeolla dialect and enough talent to make puns flow without losing the weight of his words.
honestly, soundcloud rapper guy said that he eats curses and shits them out, and yet yoongi is still hyped and inspired. he talks about dandruff and pigeons and biting, and it's still lit, and yoongi is still impressed. it's a damn good track- good lyrics, good beat, good style.
this leads to his problem: soundcloud rapper guy is a wet dream encapsulated within a brassy, intense song and ground-shaking bass.
yoongi wants to get fucked over, like, literally while bent over a table or something, by said faceless soundcloud rapper, and he doesn't really know what that says about him as a person. the fact that the guy is still faceless while he's fucking yoongi is slightly worrying. what does that even mean?
not to mention, yoongi always figured that he was a switch on the part of his sexuality that involves dicks. he always figured that he could just flip a coin and be content with whichever side it lands on.
but as of right now, this j-hope guy makes yoongi want to be a bottom forever, and only for him. all of this over some fucking song that's not sexy by any means and isn't even three minutes long. it's not a lot, but it's enough to make yoongi feel a bit filthy, considering how his thoughts dive into the gutter as soon as he hears the brass track blare through his headphones. indeed, it's not a lot, but it's also too much.
yoongi has read about music kinks and being aroused by music, but this is something different. it’s everything about the song. the beat, the bass, the harsh tones of his accent, his broad statements, how j-hope gives his all and leaves yoongi, among others, wanting to repeat the track over and over again.
everything about it makes yoongi fucking desperate, and it’s terrible because he can't recommend this great fucking song to anyone without getting the worst boner ever. they rival high school yoongi's awkward boners. that's how bad it is.
so yoongi's stuck alone in his room, stereo volume on full blast and his hand wrapped around his cock while he fantasizes about a guy he’s never seen. wonderful.
it’s powerful to be able to get off to someone’s voice when they're not saying anything ‘seductive’, especially to you directly. not to mention his name is 'j-hope.' that's a horrible alias, but yoongi still subconsciously moans it out when he cums, and he's concerned about his ability to control his volume, honestly.
he finds himself aching for more, and he knows that a quick jerk off in his bedroom or watching the porn stashed on the studio computer at midnight will only make it worse. no, yoongi needs someone to just fuck him right, fuck him until he can't feel anything, and leave him just as breathless as that goddamn song does.
yoongi has his fair share of sexual innuendos in his rapping, his fair share of recorded moans that can only be heard if one truly listens to the song and breaks it down layer by layer. j-hope makes him want to write more and more of those, makes him want to basically write out an erotica novel of slang and filth and spit it into a microphone in front of a bunch of screaming strangers. maybe yoongi's actually an exhibitionist or something, because now that he really thinks about it, he knows that if he did give in to that desire, it would be fucking amazing. he would perform much more intensely, and all because of his innate desire to have some rapper’s dick up his ass.
crazy.
so, when there's a show scheduled at club skimo and he finds out via twitter that j-hope is performing, that himself and j-hope will rap on the same stage and be in the same state of euphoria, yoongi isn't sure whether he screamed or came first from excitement. maybe both. those things tend to go hand in hand whenever j-hope is involved.
he’s too shameless to keep his desires to himself, so he gathers all his stupid fucking libido and puts it on paper. yoongi breaks apart his mind and puts it back together with wordplay and not-quite eloquent terms, rereading and editing it as he boards the metro to the inner city.
club skimo has private rooms, right? dressing rooms, maybe?
truly, he’s getting ahead of himself. j-hope might not even be bisexual, or any other variation of the ‘multi-gender attraction’ of sexualties. he might not even be attractive to yoongi in person.
so maybe yoongi’s screwing himself over. however, if he plays his cards right, he could quite literally be screwed over, the way he wants to be, by the man of his greatest (wet) dreams, and that's what matters.
it's the thought that counts, and yoongi has far, far too many of those.
when he arrives at club skimo, it’s already fairly packed with young adults, most likely underage and looking for a fresh scene, and older people with more experience alike. the energy goes through the air in waves, and yoongi would be lying if he said it didn't make him at least a bit more excited. the feeling of shouting at a crowd, having them shout back, practically spoon-feeding them his verses and his disses- it's like a drug that runs through yoongi’s veins hours after he leaves the stage, a vibe-induced high that makes him feel like he’s fucking floating.
he greets a few others backstage, giving rough hugs and shoulder smacks to rm, supreme boi, and a few other old friends. mostly just the people that won't beat up yoongi for touching them.
he's jittering in his excitement, peeking out to look at the rather large crowd of people they have tonight. it’s huge in comparison to what it was a few months ago, and yoongi can't help but be proud of club skimo. they’re good people, even better rappers, and the best at making sure that everyone knows they exist.
it's loud and vibrant and obnoxious, right up yoongi’s alley, because he's the opposite. there's something about contrasting so greatly against his environment, something about standing in one spot while everything and everyone else goes ballistic. there's something about tuning out everything else while he spits out his heart and soul that just really gets yoongi going. and when yoongi goes, he goes hard.
he’s glancing around the club, watching the lights and various effects machines being set up. it’s getting louder as more lines of the audience file into the building, and yoongi’s more than pumped for this performance.
“that’s a lot of people,” he hears behind him, a familiar voice that makes a lump form in his throat (and maybe, just maybe, his cock twitches, but that's irrelevant.)
yoongi nods, reverting back to simple gestures and basal words that his overwhelmed brain can handle, because j-hope is far better looking than anything yoongi could ever imagine or wish for. he’s all sharp features and long legs, muscular biceps and piano-playing fingers that make him ache with want. high cheekbones and a sharp nose, pretty eyes and messy black hair that yoongi wants to run his hands through and tug at. and yoongi’s never been more grateful for the existence of grey sweatpants, because they leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. nothing.
“j-hope, but actually hoseok,” he introduces himself, presenting an elegant hand for yoongi to shake and a pleasant smile. his speaking voice is just as gritty as his rapping voice. yoongi wonders what hoseok sounds like when he loses control over himself.
“i’m suga, but actually yoongi,” yoongi replies, shaking the other’s hand while he tries to control himself against getting down on his knees and- enough, enough, enough.
“why suga?”
“because i’m sweet,” yoongi answers like it's obvious, catching the slight narrow of hoseok’s eyes as he thinks the answer through.
“we’ll see. we’re doing a cypher together, suga. play nice,” hoseok goads with a small grin, turning away to go talk and introduce himself to the other rappers present.
yoongi lets out a breath he wasn't aware of holding in, and tries to snap himself out of his haze in order to focus on the task at hand; performing.
all of them are loud and intense, almost violent in their hand gestures and body movements. all of them are caught under the same idea-umbrella of 'tear this place to the fucking ground', and yoongi is more than happy to join in on the destruction of the crowd's ears.
when yoongi performs, he’s on fire. it’s a blaze right at the base of his spine, burning up his back like the fuse of a bomb, detonating through his words. he’s never felt better choking on smoke and breathing in sulfur, because it keeps him on this pedestal of immortality. he lives forever in this moment, sweating like a pig and rapping until his throat feels like it's made of sandpaper.
his verses hang in the air, even as others begin their own. maybe they go harder or louder or whatever, but he can still hear his own lyrics reverberating in the walls of the club. that sensation is nothing short of mindblowing, nearly orgasmic in its powerful nature. it keeps him writing and rapping and moving, running around with the other performers in a frenzy of energy that booms through the speakers.
after the intros and the diss battles and the mixtape singles, comes the cyphers.
cyphers are a personal favorite of yoongi’s because of how much control he loses in them. everything in him just goes lax, losing any prohibitions or limitations on his voice. metaphors and wordplay somehow make sense despite being completely illogical, satoori makes a broad appearance, pride for his home and himself stomps down any other emotion in his chest.
not to mention the freedom of speech; yoongi can say that he wouldn't mind being bent over and fucked, and it's a metaphor for being betrayed by someone and not caring. if he can make direct eye contact while doing so, it’s just a great diss. so he does make eye contact, with hoseok, obviously. no gayness detected from the others whatsoever. perfect win-win situation.
yoongi goes all out. he growls out expletives, laughing at censorship and telling it to go fuck itself. he makes his voice whiny and breathless as he raps about being fucked over, and it's great. it's also great that he's wearing a long coat because he’s so hard that it fucking hurts, but he's enjoying it. maybe he's a masochist.
cyphers are also his favorite because everyone else loses control. there’s shirt pulling, dumping water on themselves and the crowd, complete loss of the thought 'maybe i shouldn't jump on this. it's expensive.'
yoongi lives for when everyone surrounds him, tugging at his jacket and hyping up the verses and beat, jumping and directing every ounce of energy into the air.
it's a bit of a kink, honestly, because yoongi never feels more alive (read; aroused) than when multiple big, or at least bigger than himself, and powerful men surround him and pull at his clothing. it's like he's wanted by all of these dominant figures, like he could snap his fingers and they would lose control, and it's odd, but as long as he's having fun, who cares? (his neglected, completely hard dick cares, a lot, actually.)
maybe he should've expected it when during his cypher with hoseok, they basically have battle pertaining as to who can get out the most innuendos without giving in first.
hoseok repeats that line from his song about swallowing curses and shitting them out, but instead replaces ‘curses’ with ‘cum’ and shitting with ‘spitting.’ yoongi is caught by surprise. hoseok literally just said he would swallow 'someone's' (yoongi's, considering he was looking right at the blonde during that verse) cum. his voice drips with what sounds a lot like lust, and the change in tone melts through yoongi's eardrums. he can fucking feel his cock leaking.
without his permission, some verse about giving men and women head leaves his mouth, and the crowd goes fucking crazy at the mere mention of oral sex and bisexuality in the same breath. hoseok moans into his mic while looking directly at yoongi from his kneeling position on the stage, and how much is left of this cypher?
yoongi gets through it, goes double time to make the crowd dizzy, laughs wryly when he finishes because hoseok looks extremely pissed off and yet he’s still unbelievably attractive.
he’s grateful, elated even, when hoseok quite literally drags him by the hood of his jacket, pushing him into some empty room and slamming the door shut. if anything, he’s surprised that hoseok didn't just fuck him on the stage. yoongi might actually enjoy that happening. scratch that- he would totally enjoy that.
“sweet? that was anything but sweet. you're a fucking tease,” hoseok grits out while he strips yoongi of that stupid jacket and pins him against a wall.
“i don't know what you’re talking about,” yoongi smirks, breathless and impatient. the quirk of his lips is still there when hoseok kisses him none-too-gently, forcefully invading yoongi’s mouth with his quick tongue, biting down on yoongi's plush lower lip with his teeth. yoongi brings his hands up to hoseok’s hair and tugs roughly, and his hips jolt at the sound of a growl emitting from the taller’s throat.
deft fingertips quickly undo the fastenings of his jeans, and soon yoongi is left only wearing his sweat-soaked t-shirt and underwear, the tight ones that make it look like he actually has an ass, miraculously.
now that yoongi thinks about it, both of them are dripping with sweat, but somehow it's not disgusting. it just makes yoongi want more, so he tugs off hoseok’s shirt and sighs at the exposed bronzed skin in front of him. all of this for yoongi to marvel at and trace his fingertips over. before his awe can go on for long enough, hoseok lifts one of yoongi’s legs around his waist, propping him against the wall and grinding up against him.
yoongi can't help it when he groans, because he’s been wanting this for ages. he squeezes his legs tighter around the taller and pulls him into a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue and everything that yoongi needs. the flame on his spine and the pool of heat in his gut returns, flickering and pulsing with each roll of his hips. by the time hoseok pulls back, he's fully engulfed in the blaze, panting and begging for more.
“lube?” hoseok asks breathlessly, adjusting his grip on yoongi’s ass and ducking down to nip at his bared collarbone. yoongi starts to wonder where the foreplay is, but then he realizes that the entire previous two hours of performing and shooting double entendres at each other was foreplay, repeating that fucking song over and over while he got himself off was foreplay, and eases into the moment.
“jacket, left pocket,” he sighs out, shivering when hoseok sets him down and commands yoongi to get it. he can feel hoseok’s eyes on his ass when he bends over to grab the bottle, and then there’s a tight grasp on his hips that pulls him flush against hoseok’s crotch.
warm palms slip off his boxers and then travel under his shirt, pulling yoongi up until he’s fully standing and leaning against hoseok.
“prep yourself for me? i know you want to,” hoseok simpers, pressing wet kisses and harsh nips to the back of yoongi’s neck to make his breaths stutter. yoongi nods, his head falling back with a sigh against hoseok’s shoulder.
with lube-slick fingers, he opens himself up one digit at a time, whining softly at the stretch. hoseok isn't gentle with his teeth as he nips at the side of yoongi’s neck and sucks blooming red marks into the sensitive skin. once he can tell yoongi is going strong with two fingers, he reaches down to stretch yoongi with his own.
“hoseok, fuck,” yoongi huffs, rolling his hips back against the additional pressure. hoseok groans at the friction of yoongi’s ass grinding against his cock and the quiet whimpers the blonde lets out, the sound nearly overwhelmed by the squelch of lube. hoseok slides another finger into yoongi, scissoring and searching for that one perfect spot. he knows he’s found it when yoongi jerks back into the touch and moans shamelessly.
“wanna get fucked over like you said earlier?”
yoongi whimpers and nods his head frantically, tilting it so hoseok has better access to the side of his neck.
“yes, fuck- please,” he groans when hoseok hits his prostate more roughly than before.
hoseok’s cock twitches at the whine in yoongi’s begging, the way he ruts back against their fingers desperately. he walks them forward to stand against a wall and quickly slides on a condom, slicking himself with lube. he drips some of it on yoongi’s entrance just to see the way his hole flutters, the way yoongi's muscles twitch in anticipation.
he lets yoongi do the work at first, watches in awe as yoongi rocks back at his own pace. yoongi grunts out a whiny 'fuck' when hoseok is balls deep, stretching him out and hitting all the right spots. it's slow and steady, huffs of breath and low grunts filling the small space, until yoongi reaches back to spread himself for hoseok. from then on it's unrelenting, quick pistoning of hoseok's hips while yoongi tries his best to keep up, quickly filling the room with their harmonized groans and expletives, whimpers and grunts of pleasure.
now, yoongi would be perfectly content just having hoseok pound into him with no mercy, smack his ass and make yoongi bump into the wall with how rough he is. however, hoseok has a pretty fucking attractive face, and it would be a crime to miss out on the way his brow furrows as he fucks and how his lips tug into the cocky smirk he's been wearing all night.
as soon as yoongi voices this, hoseok pulls out and roughly spins yoongi around, smirking confidently at the gasp yoongi lets out when he's easily lifted up. his slim legs wrap tightly around hoseok's waist, a hand twisted in his ebony hair and the other on his sculpted bicep. a breath pof his name and 'fuck me,' and hoseok is sliding back in. yoongi is tight and hot and fucking shameless, throwing his head back as he groans.
he can't get over how small he feels in hoseok's palms and shadow, how easy it is for hoseok to simply lift him up and thrust into him with powerful, deep strokes. the soft fabric bunched up around hoseok's waist brushes against yoongi's calves, and firstly he thinks of how weird it is that hoseok's sweatpants stayed up over his hips, but then he's struck but how fucking filthy the situation is.
he's getting fucked in a storage closet, both of them still half dressed, both of them unable to keep their volume down- hoseok is almost more vocal than yoongi himself is. it only serves to make him even harder, cock leaking as it bumps against his stomach with every rough movement from hoseok.
"are you gonna own up to everything you said out there?"
hoseok's voice is even sexier, as it's hoarse from performing for a few hours on end. sweat drips down his temple, lips gaping and eyes flickering from yoongi's face to his own cock sliding into yoongi's tight, unbelievably hot entrance. yoongi wants everything, and maybe that's selfish, but he said what he wanted and he meant it.
"yes, fuck, i promise. i'll do every single thing, just, please, fuck me," he begs, rutting his hips down against the thick length inside him, reveling in the heat of the small space, the squelch of lube and the smack of skin on skin.
"why? tell me why you're so desperate. tell me why you said all that."
"no," yoongi huffs, rolling his hips and biting his tongue, refusing to admit to the truth. hoseok slows down, holding yoongi in place against the wall and looming over him. he's exuding so much dominance and power, making yoongi's entire body shudder and overwhelming him with the need to submit, submit, submit.
"don't get shy on me now- you seemed pretty fucking shameless out there, while you begged to get fucked over, begged to get your mouth filled. i saw you when everyone surrounded you. bet you wanted everyone on that stage to take turns. am i wrong?"
yoongi whines loudly, pinching at his nipples to make up for the loss of constant stimulation to his prostate, and bows his head. he refuses to look at hoseok because he's fucking right and yoongi is so, so torn between confessing and begging for more or being a stubborn brat about the entire thing.
"fine, if you won't answer, i'll do it for you. you want that?"
yoongi can only nod, his head thumping against the wall, because he knows what hoseok is going to say, and it's correct, it's all correct. he just wants to hear hoseok say it for him.
"you want it so much, wanna get fucked until you can't even move, isn't that right, suga?"
hoseok's hips start moving again, shallow thrusts with just enough force to make yoongi slide up the wall the smallest bit. one of the hands around yoongi's waist migrates to the back of his head, harshly tugging on the blond strands and forcing him to look at hoseok.
"tell me what we both know, and i'll give you what you need," hoseok teases, panting from the exertion of holding up yoongi for so long and resisting the urge to fuck him into the wall.
"fuck, hoseok, i-" he breaks off into a low groan when the swollen head of hoseok's cock just barely nudges against his prostate, teasing him and making his legs tremble.
"i'm a fucking- i'm a slut, i'm a fucking slut and i need your cock, please, just- fuck me," he stutters out, flushing bright scarlet from his own kink and whimpering when hoseok's hand releases his hair just to dive back to his ass, kneading at the soft flesh.
"that's right."
hoseok fucks hard, he goes deep and he's not against making yoongi slam into the wall. luckily, he cups a hand over the back of yoongi's head to make sure he doesn't hurt himself or hit the wall too hard, but yoongi doesn't think he would notice if he did.
it's almost too fucking euphoric. it's loud and it's hot and it's everything he's been craving. all he can feel is the way hoseok's girth stretches him out, the unabating force of his hips and the constant, delightful pressure against his prostate.
he's obsessed with how hoseok snaps his hips, how his pretty fingers leave dime-sized bruises on yoongi's skin.
"so good for me, yoongi. bet you want me to fill you up with cum until you're dripping it everywhere, fuck you over and over until you can't take it anymore."
and that's what brings him over the edge, crying out and spilling all over his torso and the hand wrapped around his cock, because he's right, hoseok is fucking right, and he has the best dick yoongi's ever had the pleasure of being fucked by, and it's too much.
the hand on the back of his head shifts to tangle in his hair, and as yoongi jolts and shudders, hoseok leans forward to swallow all of his loud moans and undignified words with his mouth. it's sloppy, just like the entire affair had been, and it leaves yoongi with swollen lips and a rough tremble in his throat.
he can feel hoseok's muscles tense as he gets closer, his voice reverberating, the volume of it just as unconstrained as his hips. it's a treat to watch hoseok come undone, the way his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth gapes, groans and expletives flowing from him with no hesitance.
"yoongi- fuck. i'm gonna come, you're so hot, so fucking tight, oh my god-" he stutters out, his hands palming roughly at yoongi's ass while he grinds as deeply as he can into yoongi.
he inadvertently lets out a moan when he feels hoseok shoot into the condom, his sentiments being echoed by the taller's groans and gritted huffs of exertion.
"holy shit, holy shit, yoongi," he sighs against yoongi's lips, his tongue quickly slipping through and overpowering yoongi's senses. he whines as he feels the cock inside him begin to soften, sighing once hoseok pulls out and unwraps yoongi's legs from his waist.
after calming himself down a bit, hoseok pushes yoongi until he's flat against the floor, still panting and shuddering. yoongi whimpers and arches his spine as hoseok laps up the release from yoongi's torso, tongue flat and warm against the rapidly cooling sweat on his skin. he wipes a drop of cum from yoongi's chest and makes a show of licking it off his fingertip, that smug look still plastered to his face. yoongi's pretty sure that the smirk never left his heart-shaped lips, not once.
"jesus fucking christ, hoseok. what even-" he's cut off by hoseok straddling him and kissing him with a burning ferocity, the taste of cum on his tongue making yoongi thrum with want all over again. he's greedy, but so is the man on top of him.
"i'm a man of my word, yoongi. are you?"
yes, yes, yes.