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stonepicnicking_okapiTitle: Fireworks [Chapter 5 of 5 of Lunar Blessing]
Fandom: BTS
Rating: Explicit
Characters/Pairings: Jin + OCs, j-hope/SUGA, RM/Jimin, V/Jungkook
Length: 2509
For: GYWO 2022 Yahtzee Roll #5
Prompt:
Summary: Yoongi watches the fireworks at the river. Everyone is happy.
“You know you can join us,” said Hoseok gently, giving Yoongi those sweet dark eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, and I will, from time to time,” Yoongi looked out at the river and sniffed and shrugged, “but…”
“There’s only so many grateful mama tears you can handle.”
Yoongi’s shoulders relaxed.
Hoseok might actually understand. That was…good.
“Yeah,” said Yoongi, his tone turning apologetic. “But I am very happy for both of you. Spend as much time as you can together. Every moment is precious. Let her fuss over you as much as she wants. It’ll be good for both of you.”
“All right. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t you be stranger, Min Yoongi.”
“I won’t.”
“And we’ve got to sleep sometime, don’t we?”
“Well…”
“I’m not certain how it works. What do I do?”
Yoongi pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket. He shoved it under the neck of his shirt and rubbed it against one scent gland then the other. Then he offered it to Hoseok. “Take a deep whiff of that before you fall asleep and maybe we’ll meet in our dreams. If not, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Hoseok took the handkerchief and folded it carefully, putting Yoongi’s scent on the inside and tucking the cloth in his pocket.
Yoongi leaned forward and gave Hoseok an awkward peck on the cheek. He waved ‘good-bye’ at Mama Hoseok, who’d been watching the whole conversation from a respectful distance.
Then Yoongi turned and joined the milling crowd along the riverfront promenade.
The first bursts of color exploded overhead to the gasps of all around.
Yoongi stopped and looked up; then he heard familiar voices.
“So it’s the strontium that makes the red colour…”
“Copper makes blue, right?”
“Yeah, it’s difficult to get right, that’s why blue fireworks are rarer—hyung!”
“Howdy-doo,” said Yoongi, feeling instantly shy that he was interrupting a romantic scene. Second Male Lead strikes again!
But Jimin’s face lit up, much like the sky above his smile so bright his eyes became thin creases. He unlatched from Rap Mon’s side and sauntered up to Yoongi, hands in the pockets of tight jeans.
“Hobbit.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Clever! If we were four years old. You’ve really got to up your game.”
“Yeah, I’m going to borrow Rap Mon’s thesaurus tomorrow.”
Jimin smirked and looked away and rocked back on his heels. “Thank you. Namjoon told me about the coins. You didn’t have to do that. You really didn’t, but I’m grateful.”
“You earned ‘em, and listen, you ever think about being a PI?”
“What?!” What looked like genuine surprise washed across on Jimin’s face.
“You’ve got the instincts for it. Smarts, too. It probably pays more than being a priest, but not as much as a purring kitten, of course. I never thought about taking on a partner, but we might work well together.”
“Or kill each other.”
“That, too.”
“I’ll think about it. And, just so you know,” Jimin looked over his shoulder at Rap Monster, “I’ll take care of ‘im. I get it. He’s something special.”
“Good. Maybe one day he’ll name a crab after you! Ouch!”
Yoongi winced the hard pinch on his bicep.
Jimin scrunched his nose. “Later, hobbit,” he said and waltzed backwards towards Rap Monster.
It was just then that Yoongi realized why it was so strange to see his best friend at this hour by the river.
“You closed Bangtan’s, Mon?” called Yoongi.
“Nah,” said Rap Monster with a smile. “I’ve got a new partner. Seokjin’s watching the bar—and the crabs—for me.”
Yoongi snorted. “All right. I’ll check on him before I call it a night.”
Yoongi waved as Rap Monster slung his arm around Jimin’s shoulders and Jimin curled an arm around Rap Monster’s waist, and they turned as one and strolled towards the river’s’ edge, looking up at the explosions.
Yoongi strolled up the street, the opposite current of most people headed down to the water’s edge.
“Grampa!”
“Suga-hyung!”
Yoongi waved at the speeding motorcycle, then shook his fist and groused, in his best grampa voice, “You two had better be careful! You’ll bust your heads wide open!”
All he heard was laughter.
“Kids today,” said Yoongi, but they’d already turned the corner and were gone.
Yoongi stepped into Bangtan’s and was greeted with a wild, braying cheer.
“Ah, yes, here is a hero to the rescue! Yoongi, please!” Seokjin motioned him to the bar. “This beautiful person wants something like called a ‘sidecar.’ I have confessed that I am a poor peasant who had never heard of such things in my remote mountain village and would this beautiful person consider a ‘wicked jasmine’ or a ‘frightened porcupine,’ but alas, no.”
“All right,” said Yoongi, throwing a towel over his shoulder and stepping behind the bar, “A sidecar starts with cognac…”
Yoongi found himself at the river again, but the crowd was gone. In fact, there was only one figure besides himself.
His silhouette was outlined silver in the moonlight.
“I’ve been waiting.”
“Sorry. I was helping Seokjin close the bar and put the crabs to bed in something other than a sauté pan, and we got to talking.”
“Hmm.”
The figure was on top of the low stone wall which paralleled the river and the boardwalk.
Yoongi watched the figure dance, a sort of light, carefree kind of dancing, with spins and sways, the kind in old Hollywood musicals, the kind usually accompanied by swelling orchestras and someone breaking out into song.
“You’re a dancer,” said Yoongi.
The figure spun and spun and spun, then sort of hopped gracefully in Yoongi’s direction.
“Yes. Do you dance, Min Yoongi?”
“No. I am more of a stone.”
“Even a stone dances when the earth beneath it shakes.”
He leapt from the wall and landed in front of Yoongi.
There was a sharp crack and then a burst of gold sparkles in the sky.
“You’re feeling better,” observed Yoongi, allowing Hoseok to take his arm. They began to stroll down the walk side-by-side.
“Yes. Maybe not 100% yet but getting there,” his expression turned mischievous, “and I think someone, at some point, promised to make me feel very, very good, indeed. Something about returning a favor?”
“I recall someone saying something about not keeping score,” teased Yoongi.
“Well, that was a wise person but…”
Yoongi turned and enveloped Hoseok in his arms and kissed him, hard and long. He heard the crackles and the soft booms overhead. He broke the kiss to tease some more.
“Fireworks?”
“You don’t like pyrotechnical enhancement? Or blatant metaphors?”
“Pyrotechnical? God, I am going to have to borrow Rap Mon’s thesaurus. With the addition of you and Jimin in my life, my vocabulary needs to improve, or I won’t stand a chance.”
Hoseok snorted, then his expression softened. “So, I am a new addition to your life?”
“If you want to be.”
“I do.”
Yoongi stepped back and opened his arms wide. “The welcome to Min Yoongi’s world. Fair warning, the climate is usually depressingly cloudy with a chance of miserable rain or gloomy fog. Or at least it was. But I think the forecast is about to get much sunnier and optimistic.” He gave a tiny grin.
“Any chance of snow?” asked Hoseok, ruffling his short white hair. “Only the best kind, the snowball-fight, snowman-making, sledding parties, and skating kind?” He did a kind of sashay, moving from side to side, then did an honest-to-God pirouette in front of Yoongi.
Yoongi swept Hoseok up in his arms and kissed him again.
“Oh, there’s going to be lots of snow. And only the fun kind.”
They kept kissing.
“Yoongi.” There was pleading in Hoseok’s tone that could not be misinterpreted.
“Yeah, yeah, where are we doing this?”
“Right here.”
Later, Yoongi was certain he’d never look at a park bench again without blushing.
“What do you want, handsome?” asked Yoongi.
“I don’t know. What do you do?”
Yoongi snorted and blushed, suddenly shy. “Bit of this, bit of that, you know. It’s your dream, remember?”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll take the sampler platter.”
Yoongi giggled. He couldn’t help it.
Hoseok laughed, too. “We’re going to be silly pair, aren’t we?” he said into Yoongi’s hair, pure fondness dripping from his tone.
“Probably.”
Yoongi unbuttoned Hoseok’s shirt. “Let’s see more of you.”
Then he was caressing Hoseok’s chest, sliding his fingertips over Hoseok’s skin, thumbing then licking his nipples, dragging his tongue along a collar bone. He listened to the sounds Hoseok made and vibrations of his body, learning which touches he leaned into and which he pulled away from.
“Ticklish?”
“Hmm.”
Hoseok’s scent had grown thicker and thicker the more Yoongi touched him, the more Yoongi learned what made him squirm and sigh and breathe Yoongi’s name. Eventually, it was so thick, it pushed the mood from playful to something needier.
Yoongi covered Hoseok’s upper body with his own and latched onto Hoseok’s scent gland.
“OH!” cried Hoseok.
Lick, lick, lick. Lick-lick-lick. Lick-lick-lick!
Unrelenting. Yoongi wanted to make him moan.
Hoseok moaned. His scent was rich and cold in Yoongi’s nostrils and his body was writhing, clinging to Yoongi and rubbing against whatever parts were touching.
“Want my mouth on you,” grunted Yoongi against Hoseok’s neck. “Okay?”
“More than okay.”
Yoongi slid down Hoseok’s body as Hoseok fiddled with his belt.
It would’ve never worked in real life, but this was dream.
In the snap of fingers, Hoseok was nude from the waist down, his white dress shirt unbuttoned, its long tails brushing his thighs.
Yoongi licked Hoseok’s thighs, what his tongue could reach of his balls, the crease of his legs, his matted pubic hair, all the while learning the taste of his sex as it mingled with his more familiar pheromonal cocktail.
“Yoongi, please.”
Yoongi took Hoseok’s cock in his mouth and sucked.
There were booms and crackles somewhere.
Fireworks, thought Yoongi, trying not to smirk smugly.
"Yeah, you're good."
There was a throaty chuckle which turned into whimpering as Yoongi brought his tongue into play.
He pushed his hands between Hoseok’s buttocks and the bench, the better to squeeze.
Hoseok had muscles, solid glutes, and Yoongi had a fleeting thought about asking Jungkook to show him around his gym because Yoongi had very little solid muscle anywhere.
“Except your heart,” interjected a testy voice. “Stop noodling. This is my dream, Alpha.”
Yoongi, properly chastised, threw his all into the task at hand (and at mouth).
“Much better,” commended the voice.
Yoongi began to bob as his fingers moved. A pinkie finger found Hoseok’s rim, and Yoongi made an inquiring noise around Hoseok’s cock.
“Yes.”
And then they were being turned.
It wouldn’t have worked, couldn’t have worked, but, of course, it was a dream, and it did work.
Yoongi was still on his knees, the edge of the bench seat digging not-uncomfortably into his back.
Hoseok was over him, balancing precariously, straining cords of muscles to maintain his position, leaning very low, using the back of the bench seat to brace himself over Yoongi.
Then he expertly fucked Yoongi’s mouth while Yoongi fingered his hole.
Dream sex was like heat sex, all orifices self-lubricated. It had, admittedly, been many moons since Yoongi been this close with someone, in any sphere of consciousness, but he found he liked the intimacy and exploration of it with Hoseok. True to Yoongi’s rock nature, he also liked being used, so sitting back and letting Hoseok take his pleasure from his mouth was the opposite of hardship.
Yoongi’s fingers found the spot that made Hoseok shiver and sweat and grind and whisper,
“I’m close, luv.”
It was the last syllable uttered which made Yoongi tear up and not the choking fullness in his mouth, but he wasn’t going to examine that too much. Yet.
For now, there was a gorgeous, mostly-naked unicorn of a man fucking Yoongi on a park bench beneath a full moon and a night’s sky which frequently erupted into the jewel-toned colors.
Not a bad dream. Not bad at all.
“Close.”
Yoongi prepared himself to swallow, but Hoseok pulled off of mouth and fingers suddenly and yanked Yoongi up onto the bench like a rag doll. He was panting hard.
“Cock. Riding. Sky. Explodes. Us, too.”
Yoongi’s Alpha was proud to render the Omega at least somewhat incoherent.
Hoseok straddled Yoongi and took charge of belt and trousers. In the blink of an eye, he had impaled himself on Yoongi’s cock in one smooth motion.
“Fu-u-uck!” exhaled Yoongi.
“Finally. I was worried you weren’t enjoying yourself. You’re still mostly dressed.”
Hoseok tugged at the neck of Yoongi’s sweater and covered Yoongi’s scent gland with his mouth.
“Hope!”
“That’s better. I like it. Call me that when you’ve got your tree-trunk-sized cock inside me.”
Yoongi’s fingers found their way to Hoseok’s crack.
“You like diddling assholes, Min Yoongi?” teased Hoseok quietly. He licked at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth with the tip of his tongue. “Like pushing those long fingers up inside, finding that sweet spot, making an Omega sweat?
“Like yours.” So Yoongi did.
"Oh, fuck, right there, luv.” Hoseok whimpered. “Don’t stop.”
Yoongi had no intention of stopping. He was bucking up as Hoseok was bouncing and squeezing his inner muscles around Yoongi; Hoseok’s white shirt was, thrust by thrust, falling off his shoulders, exposing him to the moonlight’s caress.
“You’re beautiful,” said Yoongi, and it felt like an oath or a promise.
“You are far too lucid. God, what does it take to make you let go, Min Yoongi?”
“Come for me, Omega.”
“Hmm. Yes. It’s time. We’ll discuss this later.”
Hoseok arched his back, and Yoongi was forced to cease his diddling, as Hoseok called it, to support the other’s back. He must be a very good dancer, thought Yoongi, to fold himself in half this way.
“Stop noodling!”
Yoongi held Hoseok tightly and thrust hard.
The sky erupted in pinks and reds and yellows, and Hoseok cried out and made a mess of the front of Yoongi’s shirt.
They crashed back onto the bench, still joined.
“C’mon, Alpha, pour it into me,” whispered Hoseok as he licked at Yoongi’s scent. “I want it, I need it—”
“Shit!”
“Oh, of course. Why didn’t I think of it? I need you, Alpha. Can’t you feel it—?”
Yoongi growled and gave into the instinct to rub his entire face against Hoseok’s neck.
“Need it so badly, I’m aching for you, just you, just you, Min Yoongi. I’m such a needy Omega, you have no idea how much fucking I need—"
Yoongi made a very undignified noise and spent.
“Oooh!” Hoseok was rocking front to back in Yoongi’s lap, and Yoongi opened his eyes just in time to see a second, smaller sputter from Hoseok’s cock. “When you come, I come.” He kissed Yoongi’s cheek. “What do you think about at?”
“I think it all must be,” Yoongi sighed and let his gaze drift upwards to the dark firmament and the silvery orb hanging high, “a lunar blessing.”
Fandom: BTS
Rating: Explicit
Characters/Pairings: Jin + OCs, j-hope/SUGA, RM/Jimin, V/Jungkook
Length: 2509
For: GYWO 2022 Yahtzee Roll #5
Prompt:
Summary: Yoongi watches the fireworks at the river. Everyone is happy.
“You know you can join us,” said Hoseok gently, giving Yoongi those sweet dark eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, and I will, from time to time,” Yoongi looked out at the river and sniffed and shrugged, “but…”
“There’s only so many grateful mama tears you can handle.”
Yoongi’s shoulders relaxed.
Hoseok might actually understand. That was…good.
“Yeah,” said Yoongi, his tone turning apologetic. “But I am very happy for both of you. Spend as much time as you can together. Every moment is precious. Let her fuss over you as much as she wants. It’ll be good for both of you.”
“All right. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t you be stranger, Min Yoongi.”
“I won’t.”
“And we’ve got to sleep sometime, don’t we?”
“Well…”
“I’m not certain how it works. What do I do?”
Yoongi pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket. He shoved it under the neck of his shirt and rubbed it against one scent gland then the other. Then he offered it to Hoseok. “Take a deep whiff of that before you fall asleep and maybe we’ll meet in our dreams. If not, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Hoseok took the handkerchief and folded it carefully, putting Yoongi’s scent on the inside and tucking the cloth in his pocket.
Yoongi leaned forward and gave Hoseok an awkward peck on the cheek. He waved ‘good-bye’ at Mama Hoseok, who’d been watching the whole conversation from a respectful distance.
Then Yoongi turned and joined the milling crowd along the riverfront promenade.
The first bursts of color exploded overhead to the gasps of all around.
Yoongi stopped and looked up; then he heard familiar voices.
“So it’s the strontium that makes the red colour…”
“Copper makes blue, right?”
“Yeah, it’s difficult to get right, that’s why blue fireworks are rarer—hyung!”
“Howdy-doo,” said Yoongi, feeling instantly shy that he was interrupting a romantic scene. Second Male Lead strikes again!
But Jimin’s face lit up, much like the sky above his smile so bright his eyes became thin creases. He unlatched from Rap Mon’s side and sauntered up to Yoongi, hands in the pockets of tight jeans.
“Hobbit.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Clever! If we were four years old. You’ve really got to up your game.”
“Yeah, I’m going to borrow Rap Mon’s thesaurus tomorrow.”
Jimin smirked and looked away and rocked back on his heels. “Thank you. Namjoon told me about the coins. You didn’t have to do that. You really didn’t, but I’m grateful.”
“You earned ‘em, and listen, you ever think about being a PI?”
“What?!” What looked like genuine surprise washed across on Jimin’s face.
“You’ve got the instincts for it. Smarts, too. It probably pays more than being a priest, but not as much as a purring kitten, of course. I never thought about taking on a partner, but we might work well together.”
“Or kill each other.”
“That, too.”
“I’ll think about it. And, just so you know,” Jimin looked over his shoulder at Rap Monster, “I’ll take care of ‘im. I get it. He’s something special.”
“Good. Maybe one day he’ll name a crab after you! Ouch!”
Yoongi winced the hard pinch on his bicep.
Jimin scrunched his nose. “Later, hobbit,” he said and waltzed backwards towards Rap Monster.
It was just then that Yoongi realized why it was so strange to see his best friend at this hour by the river.
“You closed Bangtan’s, Mon?” called Yoongi.
“Nah,” said Rap Monster with a smile. “I’ve got a new partner. Seokjin’s watching the bar—and the crabs—for me.”
Yoongi snorted. “All right. I’ll check on him before I call it a night.”
Yoongi waved as Rap Monster slung his arm around Jimin’s shoulders and Jimin curled an arm around Rap Monster’s waist, and they turned as one and strolled towards the river’s’ edge, looking up at the explosions.
Yoongi strolled up the street, the opposite current of most people headed down to the water’s edge.
“Grampa!”
“Suga-hyung!”
Yoongi waved at the speeding motorcycle, then shook his fist and groused, in his best grampa voice, “You two had better be careful! You’ll bust your heads wide open!”
All he heard was laughter.
“Kids today,” said Yoongi, but they’d already turned the corner and were gone.
Yoongi stepped into Bangtan’s and was greeted with a wild, braying cheer.
“Ah, yes, here is a hero to the rescue! Yoongi, please!” Seokjin motioned him to the bar. “This beautiful person wants something like called a ‘sidecar.’ I have confessed that I am a poor peasant who had never heard of such things in my remote mountain village and would this beautiful person consider a ‘wicked jasmine’ or a ‘frightened porcupine,’ but alas, no.”
“All right,” said Yoongi, throwing a towel over his shoulder and stepping behind the bar, “A sidecar starts with cognac…”
Yoongi found himself at the river again, but the crowd was gone. In fact, there was only one figure besides himself.
His silhouette was outlined silver in the moonlight.
“I’ve been waiting.”
“Sorry. I was helping Seokjin close the bar and put the crabs to bed in something other than a sauté pan, and we got to talking.”
“Hmm.”
The figure was on top of the low stone wall which paralleled the river and the boardwalk.
Yoongi watched the figure dance, a sort of light, carefree kind of dancing, with spins and sways, the kind in old Hollywood musicals, the kind usually accompanied by swelling orchestras and someone breaking out into song.
“You’re a dancer,” said Yoongi.
The figure spun and spun and spun, then sort of hopped gracefully in Yoongi’s direction.
“Yes. Do you dance, Min Yoongi?”
“No. I am more of a stone.”
“Even a stone dances when the earth beneath it shakes.”
He leapt from the wall and landed in front of Yoongi.
There was a sharp crack and then a burst of gold sparkles in the sky.
“You’re feeling better,” observed Yoongi, allowing Hoseok to take his arm. They began to stroll down the walk side-by-side.
“Yes. Maybe not 100% yet but getting there,” his expression turned mischievous, “and I think someone, at some point, promised to make me feel very, very good, indeed. Something about returning a favor?”
“I recall someone saying something about not keeping score,” teased Yoongi.
“Well, that was a wise person but…”
Yoongi turned and enveloped Hoseok in his arms and kissed him, hard and long. He heard the crackles and the soft booms overhead. He broke the kiss to tease some more.
“Fireworks?”
“You don’t like pyrotechnical enhancement? Or blatant metaphors?”
“Pyrotechnical? God, I am going to have to borrow Rap Mon’s thesaurus. With the addition of you and Jimin in my life, my vocabulary needs to improve, or I won’t stand a chance.”
Hoseok snorted, then his expression softened. “So, I am a new addition to your life?”
“If you want to be.”
“I do.”
Yoongi stepped back and opened his arms wide. “The welcome to Min Yoongi’s world. Fair warning, the climate is usually depressingly cloudy with a chance of miserable rain or gloomy fog. Or at least it was. But I think the forecast is about to get much sunnier and optimistic.” He gave a tiny grin.
“Any chance of snow?” asked Hoseok, ruffling his short white hair. “Only the best kind, the snowball-fight, snowman-making, sledding parties, and skating kind?” He did a kind of sashay, moving from side to side, then did an honest-to-God pirouette in front of Yoongi.
Yoongi swept Hoseok up in his arms and kissed him again.
“Oh, there’s going to be lots of snow. And only the fun kind.”
They kept kissing.
“Yoongi.” There was pleading in Hoseok’s tone that could not be misinterpreted.
“Yeah, yeah, where are we doing this?”
“Right here.”
Later, Yoongi was certain he’d never look at a park bench again without blushing.
“What do you want, handsome?” asked Yoongi.
“I don’t know. What do you do?”
Yoongi snorted and blushed, suddenly shy. “Bit of this, bit of that, you know. It’s your dream, remember?”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll take the sampler platter.”
Yoongi giggled. He couldn’t help it.
Hoseok laughed, too. “We’re going to be silly pair, aren’t we?” he said into Yoongi’s hair, pure fondness dripping from his tone.
“Probably.”
Yoongi unbuttoned Hoseok’s shirt. “Let’s see more of you.”
Then he was caressing Hoseok’s chest, sliding his fingertips over Hoseok’s skin, thumbing then licking his nipples, dragging his tongue along a collar bone. He listened to the sounds Hoseok made and vibrations of his body, learning which touches he leaned into and which he pulled away from.
“Ticklish?”
“Hmm.”
Hoseok’s scent had grown thicker and thicker the more Yoongi touched him, the more Yoongi learned what made him squirm and sigh and breathe Yoongi’s name. Eventually, it was so thick, it pushed the mood from playful to something needier.
Yoongi covered Hoseok’s upper body with his own and latched onto Hoseok’s scent gland.
“OH!” cried Hoseok.
Lick, lick, lick. Lick-lick-lick. Lick-lick-lick!
Unrelenting. Yoongi wanted to make him moan.
Hoseok moaned. His scent was rich and cold in Yoongi’s nostrils and his body was writhing, clinging to Yoongi and rubbing against whatever parts were touching.
“Want my mouth on you,” grunted Yoongi against Hoseok’s neck. “Okay?”
“More than okay.”
Yoongi slid down Hoseok’s body as Hoseok fiddled with his belt.
It would’ve never worked in real life, but this was dream.
In the snap of fingers, Hoseok was nude from the waist down, his white dress shirt unbuttoned, its long tails brushing his thighs.
Yoongi licked Hoseok’s thighs, what his tongue could reach of his balls, the crease of his legs, his matted pubic hair, all the while learning the taste of his sex as it mingled with his more familiar pheromonal cocktail.
“Yoongi, please.”
Yoongi took Hoseok’s cock in his mouth and sucked.
There were booms and crackles somewhere.
Fireworks, thought Yoongi, trying not to smirk smugly.
"Yeah, you're good."
There was a throaty chuckle which turned into whimpering as Yoongi brought his tongue into play.
He pushed his hands between Hoseok’s buttocks and the bench, the better to squeeze.
Hoseok had muscles, solid glutes, and Yoongi had a fleeting thought about asking Jungkook to show him around his gym because Yoongi had very little solid muscle anywhere.
“Except your heart,” interjected a testy voice. “Stop noodling. This is my dream, Alpha.”
Yoongi, properly chastised, threw his all into the task at hand (and at mouth).
“Much better,” commended the voice.
Yoongi began to bob as his fingers moved. A pinkie finger found Hoseok’s rim, and Yoongi made an inquiring noise around Hoseok’s cock.
“Yes.”
And then they were being turned.
It wouldn’t have worked, couldn’t have worked, but, of course, it was a dream, and it did work.
Yoongi was still on his knees, the edge of the bench seat digging not-uncomfortably into his back.
Hoseok was over him, balancing precariously, straining cords of muscles to maintain his position, leaning very low, using the back of the bench seat to brace himself over Yoongi.
Then he expertly fucked Yoongi’s mouth while Yoongi fingered his hole.
Dream sex was like heat sex, all orifices self-lubricated. It had, admittedly, been many moons since Yoongi been this close with someone, in any sphere of consciousness, but he found he liked the intimacy and exploration of it with Hoseok. True to Yoongi’s rock nature, he also liked being used, so sitting back and letting Hoseok take his pleasure from his mouth was the opposite of hardship.
Yoongi’s fingers found the spot that made Hoseok shiver and sweat and grind and whisper,
“I’m close, luv.”
It was the last syllable uttered which made Yoongi tear up and not the choking fullness in his mouth, but he wasn’t going to examine that too much. Yet.
For now, there was a gorgeous, mostly-naked unicorn of a man fucking Yoongi on a park bench beneath a full moon and a night’s sky which frequently erupted into the jewel-toned colors.
Not a bad dream. Not bad at all.
“Close.”
Yoongi prepared himself to swallow, but Hoseok pulled off of mouth and fingers suddenly and yanked Yoongi up onto the bench like a rag doll. He was panting hard.
“Cock. Riding. Sky. Explodes. Us, too.”
Yoongi’s Alpha was proud to render the Omega at least somewhat incoherent.
Hoseok straddled Yoongi and took charge of belt and trousers. In the blink of an eye, he had impaled himself on Yoongi’s cock in one smooth motion.
“Fu-u-uck!” exhaled Yoongi.
“Finally. I was worried you weren’t enjoying yourself. You’re still mostly dressed.”
Hoseok tugged at the neck of Yoongi’s sweater and covered Yoongi’s scent gland with his mouth.
“Hope!”
“That’s better. I like it. Call me that when you’ve got your tree-trunk-sized cock inside me.”
Yoongi’s fingers found their way to Hoseok’s crack.
“You like diddling assholes, Min Yoongi?” teased Hoseok quietly. He licked at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth with the tip of his tongue. “Like pushing those long fingers up inside, finding that sweet spot, making an Omega sweat?
“Like yours.” So Yoongi did.
"Oh, fuck, right there, luv.” Hoseok whimpered. “Don’t stop.”
Yoongi had no intention of stopping. He was bucking up as Hoseok was bouncing and squeezing his inner muscles around Yoongi; Hoseok’s white shirt was, thrust by thrust, falling off his shoulders, exposing him to the moonlight’s caress.
“You’re beautiful,” said Yoongi, and it felt like an oath or a promise.
“You are far too lucid. God, what does it take to make you let go, Min Yoongi?”
“Come for me, Omega.”
“Hmm. Yes. It’s time. We’ll discuss this later.”
Hoseok arched his back, and Yoongi was forced to cease his diddling, as Hoseok called it, to support the other’s back. He must be a very good dancer, thought Yoongi, to fold himself in half this way.
“Stop noodling!”
Yoongi held Hoseok tightly and thrust hard.
The sky erupted in pinks and reds and yellows, and Hoseok cried out and made a mess of the front of Yoongi’s shirt.
They crashed back onto the bench, still joined.
“C’mon, Alpha, pour it into me,” whispered Hoseok as he licked at Yoongi’s scent. “I want it, I need it—”
“Shit!”
“Oh, of course. Why didn’t I think of it? I need you, Alpha. Can’t you feel it—?”
Yoongi growled and gave into the instinct to rub his entire face against Hoseok’s neck.
“Need it so badly, I’m aching for you, just you, just you, Min Yoongi. I’m such a needy Omega, you have no idea how much fucking I need—"
Yoongi made a very undignified noise and spent.
“Oooh!” Hoseok was rocking front to back in Yoongi’s lap, and Yoongi opened his eyes just in time to see a second, smaller sputter from Hoseok’s cock. “When you come, I come.” He kissed Yoongi’s cheek. “What do you think about at?”
“I think it all must be,” Yoongi sighed and let his gaze drift upwards to the dark firmament and the silvery orb hanging high, “a lunar blessing.”