TESSELLATE [TAEGI] 🔞

CHAPTER 8

When Taehyung pulls away, Yoongi whines in protest, and he takes in the other boy's spit-slick lips, all red and swollen after having been ravaged for what feels like hours, eyes glazed and heavy in the best, most devastating way.

It's Yoongi who breaks the silence, drawling, "So... your room or mine?"

And this surprising display of his usual dry humor makes Taehyung break into a full-bellied laugh, and god, he's so far gone for him that the answer presents itself without hesitation. "Yours."

It only takes a split-second for Yoongi to grab at Taehyung's shirt, fisting tight around the fabric, and he's rougher this time. Yoongi kisses like he can't get enough, and Taehyung matches his enthusiasm with his own, tongues tangling wetly and teeth clacking, but neither of them seem to mind how messy it quickly turns. Yoongi's mouth presses hard and rough like he wants Taehyung to bruise, and it's dizzying in the best, most incredible way possible.

They stumble blindly across the living room, and Taehyung trips over the rug and his own feet a few times, but neither of them care. It's more gasping into each other's mouths than actual kissing, and Yoongi is fumbling with the buttons on Taehyung's shirt. His fingers are shaking, and with a curse under his breath, he impatiently tugs the shirt open.

Taehyung hears the clatter of one or two buttons on the floor, but he doesn't really care because his mouth is too busy chasing Yoongi's, hands wandering over every inch he can reach.

"God, you're... you're so beautiful," Yoongi murmurs, eyes all hooded yet appreciative as he takes Taehyung's bare chest in. There's something in the hungry look in his eyes that makes the words feel heavier, settling into the pit of Taehyung's stomach, and a shiver runs down his spine.

The door slams behind them, and Yoongi is pinning him to the flat surface as his lips latch onto the junction of Taehyung's jaw and his ear. He throws his head back to give him more room, letting out a hiss when he feels Yoongi's teeth graze his skin and bite down, tongue quickly laving over the spot to soothe the burn.

It's strange to see Yoongi's room from this angle, especially because Yoongi seems determined to leave a mark everywhere he can reach—which is great and all—and in his haze, Taehyung's eyes manages to wander around the room.

He recognizes the dark sheets Yoongi seems to favor quite a lot, sees the several pillows he knows the other boy likes to use to prop himself up, and there are a few more interesting knick-knacks that he takes a mental note to take a proper look at later. It's when his eyes fall to the closed laptop on the table, surrounded by a camera and a folded tripod that his hands suddenly still.

Yoongi seems to notice that he's distracted, and he immediately takes a step back. "What? What is it?"

He seems more concerned than annoyed; clearly, he thinks Taehyung's hesitation signals that he wants to stop, and Taehyung quickly brushes his lips over his to somehow placate him.

He's been watching Yoongi for months, torturing himself with it for weeks ever since he moved in, and it's still kind of unbelievable that he's actually in the room that he's only seen parts of through a laptop screen. And Taehyung can't help it now. He has to say it. He can't just continue on without being honest with Yoongi. He deserves that much.

"You should, uh, probably know that... I... um, watch your streams."

When Yoongi raises a brow at him, Taehyung has half a mind to take it back. He's about to explain himself when Yoongi's surprised look is quickly replaced with a sly—pleased—grin. He takes a step towards him, almost predatory. "You do?"

All he can do is nod in reply.

"I think the better question is..." Yoongi's hot breath ghosts over Taehyung's trembling mouth. "Have you jerked off to me?"

When Taehyung nods again, mostly because words are failing him at this point, Yoongi's smile widens but his voice is terrifyingly quiet. "How often did you watch?"

It's a struggle just to get words to form. "N-not since you moved in, but I, uh, watched a lot before... you... um, yeah."

The tip of Yoongi's finger traces Taehyung's collarbones, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. "That's too bad," he hums. "I might have gotten off to you on camera once or twice since I moved in."

Taehyung's mouth immediately goes dry and his eyes widen almost comically as his brain struggles to process what he just heard. He manages to let out a hushed, "Fuck, that's hot," just before Yoongi crashes his lips onto his, tugging Taehyung's open shirt off his shoulders.

Taehyung curls his arms around Yoongi's neck, parting his lips wider with his tongue, and it's so good, so impossibly addicting, to taste him like this. He lets out a gasp of surprise when Yoongi grabs his thighs to wrap them around his waist, like he weighs practically nothing, and he feels a smug smile forming against his mouth.

"Bed," he breathes into Yoongi's mouth, and the other doesn't waste any time, lifting him up and maneuvering to the bed with ease, Taehyung's legs still wrapped securely around his waist.