❝book club? more like gay club,❞
yoongi sighed.
; in which min yoongi tries to make a career out of music, but pretty boys keep getting in his way. [ featuring namjin, taekook and a pinch of jikook ]
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여덟
Min Yoongi's warm breath and uneven whimpers travelled all the way to the edge of his bed and into his moon-kissed room. Had it not struck past midnight long ago, the boy would've been fine with the pain stinging the patch of skin underneath his bellybutton.
Had the reason for his hard-on been different, his hand would've already made its way into his tight boxers.
The grey-haired boy didn't mind boners in the privacy of his room, but the one he was currently having made him insanely sad. His flustered face was pressed into his pillow, in an attempt to stop the tears from forming in the corners of his eyes and the soft moans replaying endlessly in the back of his mind.
His mind had just played a sick trick on him and he felt like his heart had broken into two. Yet, however he tried to defy his subconsciousness, the dream that woke him up to the mess of lust and melancholy he was kept getting louder.
What hurt the most was him not wanting to touch the thing. The thought of him jerking off to the face of the person he hated the most had him want to puke, it made him nauseous and eventually, it had him rolling in his bed in anger.
What had he ever done to deserve this? He hadn't thought of the bitch in ages and he never meant to, so what had he done to get to see his repulsive face in his dream?
His repulsively pretty, bright red face and his endlessly kissable lips slightly parted now moa—
"Stop it!" he screamed, slapping himself wide awake and letting the tears run down his warm cheeks.
Disgust washed and filled his insides up, up to the point where he felt like he was going to empty it right there and right then, on his pristine sheets. He needed help, but his mind couldn't think of anyone else other than Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.
He stopped to ponder — he had called the man so many times in the middle of the night, he was sure the blue bags under his eyes were all his fault. But the tight rope wrapped around his heart and the suffocating feeling in his chest begged to be gotten rid of.
Yoongi bit his lip and finally picked up his phone.
As he waited nervously for the tall boy to answer, he heard Holly's familiar paws pat the wooden floor of his room, making his way towards him and then attempting a courageous jump onto his bed. The puddle cuddled its small body onto the boy's side, his head resting on his thigh as he looked up at Yoongi's worried face.
"Min Yoongi?" The sudden wave of regret travelling through Yoongi's veins had him frozen. "Baby boy, what's up? Are you okay?" Namjoon asked again, his sleepy, raspy voice and the shuffle of his bed sheets in Yoongi's ear.
