ocean eyes

act five

'Fuck...'

Taehyung ran his hand through his hair, a puff of stressed breath came out from his lips. He kicked the soccer ball hard, the force of his strength reflected on how the net pushed backward brutally, scoring an accelerated, concrete goal.

Nobody could've blocked that, but triumph didn't run in his veins.

He was frustrated. Frustrated at something he didn't know, something that he didn't have power over, and Taehyung was always, always in control.

Jung Hoseok was a different case.

Yoongi had talked about him. A lot. He was all his friend ever talked for hours, something about having a plump lips and long lashes. It bored Taehyung. It made him fell asleep. If this man was this deity Yoongi described him as, then why wait and not let them meet? Taehyung liked pretty things, and he takes what he likes.

And goddammit, Jung Hoseok was not just pretty. It's an understatement. Beautiful was an understatement.

Jung Hoseok deserved to be called nothing less than a fucking perfect.

And perfection always, always wanted him.

Taehyung was not an idiot. There were many reasons why he needed a tutor, but stupidity wasn't one of them. Laziness, yes, but his brain was one of a million, and he was a fast learner. He beat Yoongi at Tekken just after ten minutes watching the elder play. He knew. His body knew that Hoseok wanted him.

So if the older male thought he could convinced Taehyung he wasn't doing anything in the bathroom, with his name echoed between the walls... Well. Taehyung's gonna play pretend.

But not when Hoseok was on top of him, his mouth was still red as ever, perhaps tinted by the amount of times Hoseok tried to muffle his wanton noises, thinking that Taehyung couldn't hear him when he's fucking loud, throaty gasps drawled as he came from his own fantasies.

Jung Hoseok moaned long and high, but he's avoiding Taehyung and it was the first time a being of perfection did not wanted him.

'Shit, shit, shit-'

Taehyung stopped himself by kicking another soccer ball. Another goal. Another sorrow.

'Fuck this!'

He left the court with a frustrated sigh to the bench where Hoseok had been so close to him that everything was alright. He yanked his bottle roughly, then gulped like a madman with sweats dripping his chin. There's a towel beside him, neglected, but Taehyung made no attempt to take it. If he wiped away the sweats, it didn't feel as good as when Hoseok did it for him.

'Why am I so attached...' he mumbled, forcing himself to pick up the towel. There was an unsettling feeling on his chest. 'He's not even interested...'

Lie, his brain answered. Did you see what kind of face Jung Hoseok made on top of you?

Taehyung brought up the towel, mushed it into his mouth, and screamed.

Jung Hoseok made the best face.

And Taehyung had never, ever felt so sexually frustrated before. It was explicit. It was the kind of look that would kill a heart of a lion. Taehyung had barely succeeded the testament- thrusting up and chasing the wetness of the man's plump ass when Hoseok stopped, dropped his jaw and let out a lethal groan. His eyes closed and Hoseok had submitted fully to the pleasure Taehyung's hips created.

Such a lewd face should be a sin.

Then again, Taehyung was always a sinner.

Did you see what kind of face- his own brain whispered - Jung Hoseok makes when he's on your hold?