Namjoon considered his life to be pretty good, all things considered.

He went to a good school where he got above average grades, had loving parents who were upper middle class, had a group of people he could call friends and had no shortage of attractive girls who wouldn't say no to a night in his bed. 

There was just one thing in his life that wasn't perfect.

One person, more accurately.

And he was currently pinned to the brick building by Namjoon's fists clutching his leather jacket. 

"Punch him, Joon!" A male voice laughed from behind Namjoon. 

"Knock his faggot ass out." Another voice spat.

Despite the fact he was outnumbered four to one, and much smaller than each of them, Yoongi stared impassively at Namjoon, head tilted slightly. His dark eyes narrowed, boring deep into Namjoon's own, and the taller boy wondered where Yoongi found the bravery to make eye contact. He also wondered why there was no fear in the shorter, weaker and smaller boy's eyes.

"Come on, the bell is gunna ring soon." Another voice had a whiney pitch to it. "If you're gunna hurt him, do it already!"

Right. Hurt. Namjoon was supposed to hurt Yoongi. Because Yoongi's crime was being gay and the punishment, according to Namjoon's friends, was pain. Namjoon hadn't seen it, but according to Beomseok, Yoongi had been staring at them while they were all changing in the locker rooms after gym class. 

"Slam him against the brick! Crack his stupid head open!"

Personally, Namjoon didn't believe Yoongi was interested or even attracted to them, but Beomseok was his friend, so Namjoon naturally took his side. Besides, Yoongi was gay, so it was instinctual for him to stare at mens asses and dicks, right? Like how Namjoon usually stared at chicks' tits and asses.

"Give him a black eye!"

Bruises and scrapes littered Yoongi's pale skin from previous altercations, all instigated by Namjoon's friends over the years. This was the first time Namjoon himself was touching Yoongi; he usually stood off to the side and watched while his friends jeered, punched, kicked and shoved the smaller boy around. Watched as they tripped him in the halls, threw wads of paper at his back in class, shouted taunts and insults at him whenever he was within earshot. Usually Yoongi ignored them in silence, but sometimes he would retort something that would set Namjoon's friends off more and make his punishment worse. Namjoon wondered why he did that. Why didn't he change schools? His parents had to ask about his injuries, right? Why didn't he just run away? 

"Come on, Joon!"

Why did he stay here and take it? Why did he fight back? Wouldn't staying home be easier?

Yoongi was still looking at him, an expression on his beaten face that Namjoon couldn't quite place.

It was making Namjoon's heart race.

It had been pounding ever since his friends had spotted Yoongi in the hallway and chased him outside, with Namjoon following at the very back. He didn't know how he had wound up cornering Yoongi against the building, but he recalled his friends cheering him on, and moving on autopilot. 

Yoongi's lips parted, but before he could speak, a bell suddenly rung. 

"Shit." Daehyun spat again. "School's out. Everyone's gunna come running out those doors any second now."

"You're not going to get away with looking at us in the locker room, fag." Beomseok growled, stomping up. He shouldered Namjoon aside roughly and took his place standing in front of Yoongi.

Namjoon stumbled but caught himself, his heart pounding as Beomseok towered over Yoongi. 

Why didn't Yoongi just run? They all knew the boy was fast; he had outrun them all on more than one occasion. 

And what had he been about to say?

Beomseok's fist pulled back, his other hand slamming against Yoongi's shoulder to pin him against the bricks. The others whooped as their friends' fist swung through the air, connecting with Yoongi's nose. 

The force slammed his head back, and Namjoon winced at the sound of bone cracking against brick.

Yoongi dropped to the grass, hands pressed over his broken nose, and blood dripped from between his fingers.

To his credit, he didn't cry out.

Beomseok stepped back, shaking his hand off. "That'll teach you, faggot. Next time it happens, I'll rip out your eyes."

Yeong and Daehyun laughed, patting Beomseok on the back as they started walking away, leaving Yoongi on the ground.

Namjoon stared at the boy, taking backwards steps to follow his friends.

Yoongi slowly raised his head, his dark eyes connecting once again with Namjoon's over his blood smeared fingers that were still clutching his nose.

Namjoon's heart was pounding so hard, he was sure Yoongi could hear it. Was that why he raised his head?

"Yo! Joon! You comin'?"

Namjoon swallowed hard, and then quickly turned around and jogged over to catch up with his friends.

Already, the group was laughing and talking about some new video game they wanted to play that just came out. As if they hadn't just broken a probably innocent boys nose and then deserted him while he bled.

Namjoon didn't hear any of their chatter, didn't join in.

His heart raced all the way back home.

-

That night, Namjoon finished his homework and crawled into bed. 

He still hadn't stopped thinking about Yoongi. 

He wondered what the boy was doing now. 

Hissing in pain as he slowly lowered himself into the bath? Bandaging his nose by himself in the mirror? Testing the bruises by gently poking them and wincing in pain?

The bruises Namjoon could have prevented if he had said something?

No- Namjoon couldn't stop them. 

Why not?

Because! Because... they were his friends. And they were right, Yoongi was gay. He probably was always looking at Namjoon's ass in the halls, or side eyeing him in class.

Namjoon tossed in bed, twisting to lay on his side. 

And what if Yoongi really was looking at him? Had he ever? 

His mind was racing and he wanted it to stop. He didn't want to be thinking this much about Yoongi. It was making him feel... gui-

Namjoon abruptly sat up and grabbed his phone. 

Some porn would get his mind off today and after a few orgasms, he would fall right asleep.

But an hour later of scrolling through various videos of women tied up, stripped down and fucked, Namjoon groaned and tossed the device aside. 

It was all the same video; the women moaning too loudly and too often to be genuine. The men too... too... not right. And all the dialogue was just god awful. 

Namjoon sighed and flopped onto his back in the dark. 

The hour hadn't been a total waste- he was a little hard. His hand slipped under the covers, his fingers touching himself idly. 

He usually masturbated with the help of a video or picture, but he had thrown his phone and didn't want to get up and grab it now. He stroked himself lazily as his mind offered up memories from previous sessions.

And then Yoongi was suddenly back in his thoughts.

Namjoon's hand froze, eyes wide behind his shut eyelids as he pictured the boys face.

Skin so smooth, so pale. Black hair that cascaded almost to his shoulders, a slight curl to the locks. Long eyelashes framing cat like eyes. Dark eyes. That drew Namjoon in. That made his heart hammer wildly in his chest whenever he saw them.

Already, his heart was skipping beats. 

Namjoon swallowed hard, slowly moving his hand again as he pictured Yoongi. His small nose- his mind was making it magically healed for some reason- his pouty, soft lips. The slight scent of cherry Chapstick. Namjoon had smelled it when he was so close to Yoongi. 

His mind zoomed in on the boys lips, watching them part slightly, revealing a hint of white teeth and a pink tongue as Yoongi was about to speak. 

What had he been about to say?

His heart thudded as his hand sped up, wrapped fully around his cock now. Namjoon curled his free hand into a fist and pressed it against his mouth as low moans began to escape. 

Yoongi had sex with other men before, right? That was how he knew he was gay? 

Namjoon wondered what Yoongi was like during gay sex. 

With his small stature, Namjoon bet the boy was manhandled by stronger men. Hands gripping his feminine waist tightly, slamming him back on their bigger cocks. Fingers digging into the boys pale thighs. Head tossed back in ecstasy as he was bounced, slim wrists easily restrained by a strong hand, his black hair gripped in a fist to yank his head back, or to yank his mouth closer.

"Ah..."

With a mouth like that, Namjoon bet Yoongi was on his knees more than once, taking a cock deep down his throat. With his perfect lips wrapped around Namjoon's dick. With his long, dark lashes blinking up at Namjoon, his dark eyes sparkling with fake innocence. He liked this after all, he was attracted to men and their cocks. Namjoon's cock. He would like Namjoon's cock. 

"Oh... God..."

Yoongi, facedown on the bed, a hand in his hair to keep him down while he was fucked hard from behind. 

Namjoon groaned, kicking the blankets off himself as he grew hot. His hand was shaking now as he kept up the fast pace he had set. His heart was racing, sweat gathering on his tanned skin.

Yoongi never broke eye contact as he swallowed Namjoon down deeper and deeper, until he was kissing Namjoon's pelvis.

"Shit... Yoongi..." 

His orgasm was growing fast, and his arm was growing tired from the powerful exertion. Precome soaked his palm, greasing the slide and dripping to his sheets. He had never gotten to this point so fast before.

Yoongi, face mashed into the pillows as Namjoon took him from behind, moaning deep and loud as he was fucked hard, fast, forever.

Namjoon's hips bucked and he gasped as the red hot pleasure built up more and more. 

Yoongi's pretty face, his alluring eyes, his gorgeous mouth, the sounds he must make- from the low groans to the high pitched cries of pleasure as he was fucked just right-

"Fuck!"

Namjoon cried out, back arching and thigh muscles seizing as he came. Cum sprayed over his hand, dick, torso and bed. The pleasure continued to course through him for a while, before slowly dying out. His heart was pounding.

Groaning, Namjoon settled back against the mattress, his hand still gripping his cock as if unwilling to admit the orgasm was over.

And then he realized what he had just done.

He sat up abruptly, staring down at the mess he had made to Yoongi's image.

"Shit."

-

The next day, Namjoon kept his head down in the halls. It was irrational, but he felt like Yoongi would somehow know what he had done last night if he looked into Yoongi's dark eyes again.

But Yoongi wasn't at first period. Or second. Or in the halls in-between classes. Or third hour. Or at lunch, which Namjoon spent staring at his uneaten tray of food while his friends laughed and tossed croutons from their salads at each other. Yoongi wasn't in algebra, or science class after that.

Namjoon's friends didn't seem to notice Yoongi's absence, they were too busy talking about that new video game they had all played together last night.

Last night. When Namjoon had been touching himself to images of Yoongi. 

Just the thought of it had Namjoon's pants tightening and he hastily slammed his thighs together, hands pressing down on his lap. 

It was Friday, so Namjoon wouldn't see Yoongi for three whole days. Four, if he didn't show up on Monday either.

What if he was in the hospital? He had hit his head pretty hard yesterday, what if it cracked open?

Namjoon's heart lurched. Even if Yoongi had been looking at them in the changing room, he didn't deserve that.

It bothered him that his friends didn't care. It bothered him that they hadn't thought once about Yoongi. 

The bell rang, startling Namjoon out of his thoughts, and he was surprised to see his group were already halfway out the classroom door.

They had left him behind as easily as they had left Yoongi bleeding on the ground.

Namjoon quickly gathered his things and hurried to his locker. He shoved his books into his bag and shouldered one strap, slamming the door shut as he scanned the halls again, looking for Yoongi.

Daehyun was saying something as Namjoon hurried by him, but Namjoon didn't hear it. He was already outside, looking at the spot Yoongi had been punched at yesterday. It was stupid, but Namjoon was hoping that for some reason, Yoongi would still be there.

He wasn't, and Namjoon bit his lip.

Why hadn't he stopped his friends? Why didn't he ever stop them?

Would they hurt him too now, if they found what Namjoon did last night?

He had gotten off to an image of another male, after all. 

Oh shit, did that make him gay?

But he wasn't attracted to any other male he had seen. Sure, some male celebrities he could appreciate the beauty of, but that didn't mean he wanted to have sex with them. He wasn't attracted to the idea of being naked in the same room with another naked guy, either. And he definitely did not want another mans cock up his ass. Neither did he want to put his dick in some dudes ass.

Yoongi was just... different. 

A fluke, perhaps. 

Namjoon's heart pounded at the thought of him.

Was he at home? Was that why he hadn't come to school today? Did he never leave his bed?

Namjoon knew where Yoongi lived.

He wasn't proud of it, but he and his group had followed Yoongi home one day, throwing rocks at the smaller boy. 

Namjoon hadn't thrown away, but he hadn't stopped his friends either. Just walked behind them as they shouted rude things at the boy, hurling stones at his back. 

It only took Namjoon a moment to decide that was where he would go.

Dark clouds had rolled in throughout the day, and as Namjoon ran down the sidewalk with his bag bouncing against his back, heavy raindrops began to fall.

By the time he reached the house, it was pouring. The temperature had fallen a few degrees, and Namjoon was shivering in just his T shirt.

He hurried to the front door and raised his hand to knock, before pausing.

Would Yoongi even answer the door for him? 

He could picture the way the boy had looked yesterday as he glared at Namjoon from behind black bangs and bloody fingers.

Namjoon blinked a few times, wondering why he had even come here. He should be at home, working on his science project, playing that new game with his friends, watching videos of naked women dancing with other naked women.

He knocked.

Thunder rolled overhead and the wind threw the rain at Namjoon's back as he stood in front of the door. The clouds blocked the sun, making it look like it was already evening. 

The door opened a crack and a single dark eye framed by black hair looked at him. 

Namjoon's heart raced and his mouth went dry.

Yoongi opened the door fully, despite the rain. He was wearing his usual leather jacket and black jeans. There was a bandage over his nose.

"What are you doing here?"

Yoongi's tone wasn't accusatory, merely confused and curious.

"I..." Namjoon wet his suddenly chapped lips with his tongue. "You weren't at school today."

"Sorry, did I ruin you and your buddies day by not making myself available to have food thrown at me? Or more rocks? I'll do better in the future."

Namjoon winced, remembering all the times his friends had slapped Yoongi's lunch to the floor, dumped milk on his head, and whipped apples and oranges at him. 

"No, I'm not here because of any of that. Or them." Namjoon felt out of breath from looking at Yoongi. Looking into his dark eyes, framed almost femininely by those long lashes.

"Then what are you here for?" Yoongi's eyes narrowed, and Namjoon took a step back almost involuntarily.

"I..." Namjoon didn't know what to say. He wasn't entirely sure why he had come all the way here either. To make sure Yoongi was alive? Did he actually care about the boy that much, all of a sudden? 

"You're an idiot." The door slammed shut in his face.

Namjoon blinked. 

He stood in the rain, trying to think. 

Lightning lit up the sky briefly, revealing the way the trees were bending from the strong wind. 

He looked up, squinting as rain splashed his face and got into his eyes.

He knew he should get home as soon as possible, but his feet didn't move.

He didn't want to leave yet. He needed to do more with Yoongi first. But he didn't know what. Talk? He wouldn't believe Namjoon if Namjoon apologized. 

The realization made Namjoon's heart hurt, like it had been bruised.

It had been a mistake coming here.

But still, Namjoon couldn't leave.

The door opened again. 

"Hey, stupid." Yoongi was looking at him. "I have a bet going. My cat thinks you'll get struck by lightning, but I think you'll die of pneumonia first."

He stepped back, and Namjoon was surprised.

"You're inviting me in?"

"I'll get charged with involuntary manslaughter if I don't. The cops will blame me for letting you just stand there all stupid in the middle of a storm if I don't bring you inside."

Namjoon stepped into the foyer, looking around the house for the first time. It was smaller than Namjoon's, but homey.

Yoongi shut the door, blocking out the sound of the howling wind. "You're ruining my mom's wood floors with all that water."

Namjoon held his arms out from his sides slightly and looked down at the puddle surrounding him. 

"Shit, I'm sorry."

Yoongi cocked his head, regarding him. "It's... fine."

He turned around, and Namjoon watched him walk into the kitchen and grab a cloth. He came back and dropped the cloth to the puddle, stepping his toes on it to smear it around and soak up the water. His toe nails were painted black.

Namjoon, not knowing what else to do, just watched him.

When that was done, Yoongi tossed the rag into the sink as he walked down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder. "Hey stupid, you just gunna stand there and drip more water?"

Startled, Namjoon lurched forward, taking two steps before realizing he was still wearing his shoes. He quickly toed them off and followed Yoongi to the bathroom. 

"You'll catch a cold if you stay in those clothes." Yoongi said, grabbing a towel from the cupboard under the sink. He straightened up and handed it to Namjoon. "I'll grab you something to change into. You can change in here, and I'll put your wet clothes in the dryer."

Namjoon hadn't been expecting that. "Thank you."

Yoongi gave him that look again, before shutting the door behind him. 

Namjoon held the towel and looked around the bathroom. So this was where Yoongi brushed his hair in the mornings. Where he took a shower. This was the mirror he looked in, when he saw his scars and bruises staring back at him. 

Namjoon looked at the sink. That was where Yoongi washed his own blood off his skin.

An electric toothbrush stood upright next to a half used tube of toothpaste. It was the same brand Namjoon used. The soap dispenser was a generic scent. 

Namjoon didn't know what he had expected. Drawers full of drag makeup? Girly soap scents? Rows and rows of skin care products?

He quickly toweled off his wet hair and stripped down to his boxers. 

For some reason, he didn't feel uncomfortable being almost naked in Yoongi's bathroom. 

Awkward, yes. But... not uncomfortable. 

There was a knock at the door, and then Yoongi's voice called through the wood. 

"I don't have a shirt that will fit you, but here's some sweatpants that should."

Namjoon opened the door and grabbed them. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Yoongi bent down and scooped up the wet clothes. "I'll be back."

He hadn't looked at Namjoon's bare chest once.

Namjoon slid the sweats on, grateful for the warmth they gave his damp skin. 

Not knowing what else to do, Namjoon looked around the bathroom again. 

A cabinet door above the sink was open slightly. Curious, Namjoon opened it and found a first aid kit.

The fact it was a little beat up and so readily available showed it was used a lot.

Guilt flooded Namjoon. 

He opened it and saw it was packed with bandaids, bandages, alcohol sanitizing wipes and bruise cream.

"They'll be dry in about an hour. If you need them back sooner, just let me-"

Namjoon quickly closed it and shoved it back in the cabinet, but Yoongi was already at the door. 

Yoongi raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Snooping? After I brought you inside and did your laundry?"

"I- I'm sorry." Namjoon said lamely. 

There was that look again on Yoongi's face.

"Why are you here?" Yoongi asked. "Really."

Namjoon flexed his fingers at his sides, heart racing. He felt stupid and useless. "I don't know. Really."

Yoongi just looked at him, and Namjoon knew his answer was unsatisfactory.

"You weren't at school today." He said again, stupidly.

"I know." Yoongi pushed himself off the doorframe and walked away.

After a moments hesitation, Namjoon followed. 

Yoongi turned into a room, and Namjoon paused at the door, seeing it was Yoongi's bedroom. 

It had blue walls, with various posters and pictures taped to them. The bed had black covers, and was unmade. There was a desk off to the side, and Yoongi was sitting at it, facing the computer, where a half written essay was showing on the screen. A bookshelf full of CD's, books and manga's stood in the corner, with various colognes, framed pictures and handheld video games stacked on it. A basketball hoop was installed to one wall, a basketball resting on the floor beneath it.

"Do you need permission to enter?" Yoongi sounded a little amused as he watched Namjoon stand in the doorway. "Or do you think you'll get AIDS if you step inside a faggots bedroom?"

Namjoon winced at the word. "No, I don't think that."

He stepped cautiously inside, worried about trespassing into Yoongi's private space.

But the boy was facing his computer, working on the essay. The sound of tapping keys was the only sound in the room. 

Namjoon looked around some more, feeling awkward.

He had goosebumps on his arms, his damp skin chilly in the air conditioned room. He shivered, bringing his palms up to slide over his biceps.

Yoongi must have noticed from the reflection on the screen, because he stopped typing and swiveled on the chair. "I'm sorry I don't have a hoodie to give you, we're different sizes. You can sit on my bed if you want, use the blankets."

Namjoon nodded and walked to the bed, sitting down gingerly on the mattress. He grabbed the comforter and wrapped it around himself, feeling warmer already. 

It smelled like Yoongi. Like... cologne and laundry detergent. 

Namjoon looked at the bed. This was where Yoongi curled up to sleep after another cruel day of being pushed, insulted and bullied. This was where Yoongi lazed on weekends, flipping through his manga's. Namjoon liked manga and anime too. He wondered if he and Yoongi shared any favorites.

This bed... was where Yoongi touched himself. 

Namjoon's cheeks heated up as he recalled his own bed, and what he had done in it last night. Did Yoongi imagine men as well when he... did that?

Well, he was gay, so he must, right? Did he fantasize about himself being on top, or the bottom? Or did he just watch porn like Namjoon usually did?

Desperate to stop this train of thought, Namjoon looked at Yoongi's desk. He spied a tube of cherry Chapstick. 

Did the boys taste that when Yoongi kissed them? 

For some reason, despite knowing the boys sexuality, Namjoon found it hard to picture Yoongi kissing a guy. Kissing anyone, for that matter. Maybe he didn't want to imagine it.

"You come to my house, you make my floors wet, you sit shirtless on my bed, you awkward up all my silences," Yoongi huffed, pushing himself away from the desk. 

He faced Namjoon, who quickly sat up straight, still clutching the blanket around himself.

Yoongi cocked his head, a few strands of black hair falling over one eye. "Why did you come here?"

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Namjoon asked. 

"I'm thinking."

"Thinking... about what?" Namjoon's heart thudded, threatening to burst out of his chest if Yoongi kept drilling him with those dark, cat like eyes.

"In the foyer... you seemed genuinely apologetic when you thought you were ruining the floor." Yoongi's voice was deeper than Namjoon expected it to be. He had rarely heard Yoongi talk, and the voice didn't fit the stereotypical gay voice Namjoon usually heard in movies. "You apologized. You let me call you stupid. You weren't weirded out to be shirtless in front of a gay guy. You came all the way here in the pouring rain."

Namjoon blinked. "Yeah."

"All that... because I didn't come to school today?"

Namjoon nodded slowly. "I guess so."

Yoongi scoffed, stretching out on the chair, before crossing his arms behind his head. "There's been days where I didn't go to school before, you never bothered to check up on me then."

"I thought about you."

Namjoon snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late. He had already said that out loud.

Yoongi was frowning. "Why? When?"

Namjoon looked at the posters on the wall, trying to calm his racing heart down. He scratched his nose with a hand that was still cloaked with Yoongi's blanket. Cologne and detergent flooded his nose. 

There was a soft creak as Yoongi rose off the chair. 

Namjoon watched him approach and sit on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off, toes touching the floor. 

The sound of the rain pounding the windows filled the room. 

"I asked you a question."

Yoongi's voice was soft, but firm.

Namjoon's heart was hammering, the sound of blood rushing in his ears drowning out the rain. He knew he had to face Yoongi. He was so close, Namjoon could smell the shampoo from his hair.

He turned his head, facing Yoongi. 

The bandage was bigger than it had originally appeared, now that Yoongi was closer.

Stupidly, Namjoon reached out, his fingertips trailing gently over the edge of the white bandage. 

Yoongi flinched, but held still as Namjoon caressed his injury. 

Namjoon pulled his hand back when he realized what he was doing.

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Sorry. Does it hurt?"

"It's broken, stupid. What do you think?"

"Sorry."

A small smile toyed at Yoongi's oh so pretty lips. "Why did you come here?"

"Why did you let me in?"

Yoongi cocked his head. "I'm not sure. Because you looked pathetic standing out there? Because I wanted to know why you came to my house? Because if I had left you on my doorstep, I wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight."

Namjoon nodded. Those were valid reasons. He wished he had one to give back.

He shrugged, looking down at the floor, where he was digging his toe into the carpet. "You... weren't at school. And... I was... worried."

Yoongi snorted. "Worried about what? Me? Did you think that punch had killed me?"

Namjoon bit his lip. "I also wanted to know... because I was thinking about you... what were you going to say?"

The smile was gone from Yoongi's face. 

"Yesterday, at school." Namjoon looked at him. "When we were... well, you looked like you were about to say something to me. Before the bell rang."

Yoongi settled against the baseboard, his knees bent and parted and his forearms resting against his thighs as his fingers played with the blanket he was sitting on. 

It was silent for a while.

"Why do you hang out with those guys?" Yoongi finally asked.

"That's what you were going to say?" Namjoon was surprised. 

"No. I'm asking you, why do you keep their company?"

Namjoon looked back at the floor. "They're my friends..."

Yoongi scoffed, looking to the side. "Then you really are stupid."

Namjoon couldn't argue with that, because he agreed. 

They lapsed into silence again, listening to the rain. 

"I didn't think you were checking us out in the locker room." Namjoon suddenly said. He could feel Yoongi's eyes on him, and he wanted to hide under the blankets.

"You thought I was innocent, but you still shoved me against the building." Yoongi said. 

"I'm sorry."

"Because of your 'friends'."

"Yes." 

Yoongi sighed. "I wasn't looking at you. Any of you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"A lot." Namjoon admitted. "Everything."

There was the sound of shifting, and when Namjoon looked up, Yoongi had leaned forward until he was on all fours and had closed the distance between them.

Namjoon's breath hitched, his eyes wide and fixated on Yoongi lips, which were so close to him. The lips he had been fantasizing about. The ones that smelled faintly of cherries. 

Namjoon's eyes closed, feeling Yoongi's breath gently puff against his own mouth, and he parted his lips slightly-

A sharp sting suddenly sliced his cheek, and his head snapped to the side.

Namjoon opened his eyes, processing the fact Yoongi had just slapped him.

Hard.

"Don't you dare apologize." Yoongi growled, his dark eyes glaring. "After all the times you just stood there and let the people you consider friends do all that shit to me. If you were really sorry you would have stopped them. You would have said something. Done something. But you just stood there and watched. Every. Single. Time."

"You're right." Namjoon ran his tongue along his teeth, loosening his jaws from the force of the slap. 

"What- did you think I would view you differently just because you didn't join in?"

"I don't know what I was thinking." Namjoon admitted.

"First non stupid thing you've said." Yoongi muttered. He cocked his head. "Did you think I was going to kiss you?"

Heat bloomed on Namjoon's cheeks. "...yes."

Yoongi smirked, and Namjoon's heart did a backflip. 

"Did you want me to?"

Oh God, Namjoon's throat was dry and his head was spinning.

"...y...yes..." 

"Close your eyes." Yoongi whispered.

Namjoon did, his heart pounding so hard he felt light headed.

Slap!

Pain erupted on Namjoon's other cheek.

"Stop being stupid." Yoongi slid off the bed. "Why would I kiss you after I just told you how I feel about you?"

That was fair.

Namjoon suddenly felt stupid, flushed with embarrassment. He stood up too, discarding the blanket. "I should go."

"Your clothes-"

"It's fine, I'll wash them when I get home." Namjoon wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He had deserved the slaps, he knew that.  He just couldn't bear to feel this way- knowing how Yoongi felt about him. He was surprised he hadn't seen this coming.

He really was stupid.

"The rain is still coming down really hard-"

"I'll run fast." Namjoon grabbed the hem of the sweatpants, working them off.

"Jesus- Namjoon- don't do that!" Yoongi sighed, blocking the sight with his hands. He was looking away. "Just... keep them."

Namjoon nodded, a little more embarrassed now. He just wanted to be back in his own room, where he could compartmentalize all of this in peace. He wanted to be out in the storm, where no one could see the tears run down his cheeks. 

Yoongi left the room, coming back a minute later with Namjoon's still damp clothes in his hand. 

"The dryer didn't finish, so they're a bit wet still." Yoongi was saying as Namjoon reached for them.

Before he could grab them, Yoongi suddenly held the clothes out of Namjoon's reach.

"Wait," Yoongi sighed. "I... don't want you to leave yet."

Namjoon was confused. "You want to slap me some more?"

Yoongi chuckled, and Namjoon felt butterflies at the sound. "No, I don't want to slap you again. Well, maybe another day. But not tonight."

He set the clothes down and stood up straight, an inch away from Namjoon. He had to tilt his head back slightly to see the taller boy. 

"Why did you want me to kiss you?" He cocked his head. 

God, Namjoon was humiliated.

"I... was thinking about you." Might as well get it all out on the table now. 

"Thinking about me..." Yoongi stepped closer, their chests touching. Namjoon could feel the boys warmth radiating off him. "Or thinking about my lips?"

"... both." Namjoon's voice suddenly went hoarse. "Mostly your lips."

Yoongi smirked at the honest answer. 

His hands slowly wrapped around Namjoon's wrists, sliding up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders.

Namjoon couldn't hear anything over the pounding of his heart. His vision had tunneled into a pinpoint, so the only thing he could see was Yoongi, and the way he was leaning in. His half lidded eyes looking at him, his pouty lips getting closer and closer-

Namjoon gasped when he was suddenly shoved backwards, landing on his back on Yoongi's bed.

Yoongi straddled him, his hands pinning Namjoon's wrists down. He leaned in, his hair tickling Namjoon's face.

"Say please," Yoongi whispered, his lips barely brushing over Namjoon's.

Namjoon was trembling from the chill and from Yoongi's body heat combating that chill, but mostly from nerves. 

"P-p-ple...ease..." Namjoon stammered.

Yoongi chuckled, finally leaning down.

There was a split second hesitation, and then soft lips pressed against Namjoon's. 

Namjoon's heart felt like it was seizing. Sparks flew from every beat, and his lips tingled as Yoongi ran the tip of his tongue over them. Namjoon's eyes were wide open, and he knew they shouldn't be. People kissed with their eyes closed- Yoongi had his eyes closed. But Namjoon was frozen, sparking and frozen.

It was either years later or just a few seconds, and then Yoongi pulled gently back. He sat up, releasing Namjoon's wrists. 

Namjoon stayed where he was, still frozen.

Yoongi shifted on Namjoon's lap. "Namjoon."

That was the second time Yoongi had said Namjoon's name. Namjoon really liked it. 

"Namjoon, why are you hard?"

Namjoon was shattered out of his frozen state. He sat up quickly, and Yoongi stood up. 

He was only half hard, but it was still humiliating. He quickly covered himself with his hands. 

"Oh my God- I didn't- I wasn't- I'm sorry!" Namjoon blurted out.

Yoongi was grinning. "It's fine. I'm not mad. I'm taking it as a compliment, actually."

He stepped back. "You know where the bathroom is if you want to take a shower."

Acting on autopilot, Namjoon hurried out of the bedroom, still pressing his hands over his dick. The sweatpants did nothing to hide his eight inches, and he had never been more embarrassed in his life.

He stripped quickly and stepped in the shower. Cold water rained over him, and he shivered, forcing himself to stay under the spray until his erection died down. 

He shut the water off and grabbed another towel to dry off, and pulled his boxers and the sweatpants back on. 

Shivering still, he entered Yoongi's room again, where the smaller boy was making the bed. 

"The storm is going to go all night," Yoongi explained, putting extra blankets and pillows on the bed. "You should stay here tonight. If you want to sleep on the couch downstairs, that's fine. I can set it up for y-"

He stopped when he saw Namjoon was shivering again. 

"Did you... take a cold shower?" Yoongi blinked.

Namjoon nodded, arms wrapped around himself.

Yoongi laughed, tossing his head back. "You stupid idiot- you were supposed to take a normal shower! So you could jack off!"

"Oh." That hadn't occurred to Namjoon. "I can take another one."

Yoongi laughed again. "No- we just won't kiss again. I don't want you to nut in my sweats."

Namjoon was surprised he still had room for more embarrassment.

Yoongi chuckled, patting the mattress. "Come on, stupid. I'm tired."

Namjoon eagerly climbed onto the bed, wrapping the warm blankets around him. They were soft and heavy.

Yoongi grabbed out a pair of pajamas and went into the bathroom to change. When he emerged, he flicked off the lights. A moment later, the bed dipped as Yoongi climbed in beside him.

They laid in silence for a while, getting used to each others presence. 

"Thank you." Namjoon whispered.

"For what? Kissing you?"

"Yeah. And for letting me inside. Thanks for letting me apologize."

Yoongi soft chuckle carried over through the dark. "You're thanking me for giving you the honor of apologizing?"

"Yes. If you hadn't accepted it, I would be in a dark place. Not that I wouldn't deserve it, of course."

"I never said I accepted it." Yoongi corrected him. "Actually, if I'm remembering right, I slapped you for it. Twice."

He sighed and rolled over, facing Namjoon. The taller boy could barely make his features out in the dark, but Yoongi's pale skin seemed to radiate in the moonlight.

"But I appreciate your honesty. I like it a lot, actually. It's pretty cute." 

Namjoon blushed. "Sorry."

"Stop it."

"Sorry."

"I should be the one apologizing," Yoongi mused. "For punching you."

There was silence for a moment, and then Yoongi rolled back the other way, taking half the blankets with him. "Well, goodnight stupid."

Namjoon smiled, closing his eyes. 

"Goodnight, Yoongi."

They fell asleep to the sound of the rain.