late night devil (put your hands on me)
tokkiekook
Summary:
Jeongguk doesn’t know exactly what it is about Taehyung that makes his blood burn molten, leaving him dizzy and wanting every time they get together. Just knows that scent of petrichor has him melting, the desire to just be close to the alpha overwhelming.
It really doesn't help that Taehyung's so touchy.
Notes:
This is 22k of purely indulgent sexual tension that I wrote when listening to this song on repeat.
Chapter 1: Strain
Chapter Text
The dream always starts out the same.
It’s hot. Dizzying. Overwhelming. Jeongguk drips.
There’s hands, long, slender fingers smoothing over his shoulders, his chest, his hips, his thighs. There’s a nip, not that hard bite that Jeongguk wants, and Jeongguk slumps against the mattress when a hot tongue swipes soothingly over the flushed skin.
Jeongguk whimpers, whines, only pausing to hum out a content purr when lips press an open-mouth kiss to the side of his throat, right above his scent gland. Fingers dig into the solid meat of his thighs and then let go, moving to brush over his sides, over his ribs, until they reach his nipples where they trace and pinch, making Jeongguk choke on a moan. He arches when a hot wet heat moves down his neck and sucks , nips, velvet lips brushing soft over the abused skin.
Petrichor pours over his senses, clogging up his lungs and turning the air hot and humid, there’s a flash of a smirk, sharp canines gleaming, and Jeongguk, he--
Jolts up.
Flushes when he realizes he's wet, dripping, and half hard.
He shifts uncomfortably as he gets up, boxers sticking to his ass in a way that makes him blush harder. His shirt sticks to his frame, sweat making the fabric damp, and he scrubs a hand over his face as if that will help get rid of his lingering embarrassment.
He gets up, reaching into his dresser for a new set of clothes for the day: underwear, a plain t-shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans. He hopes Namjoon isn't awake yet, though he sees it's close to nine when he checks the time.
Peeking out of his door, he sees the coast is clear. Namjoon’s room is next to his own, and Jeongguk isn’t particularly keen on his roommate seeing his boner and general state of disarray.
Jeongguk creeps past their rooms, feelings his ears tinge red. The bathroom is right across from Namjoon’s room, and Jeongguk sighs in relief when he twists the handle, no sign of his roommate anywhere.
“Hey, Jeongguk-ah--” Namjoon’s voice comes from behind him and Jeongguk squeaks in panic.
“Shower!” he shouts, slamming the door behind him, feeling his face flush.
“Uh, okay,” Namjoon’s voice comes from the opposite side of the door, sounding confused. “I was going to ask if you wanted breakfast, though? You okay?”’
Jeongguk almost slams his head against the door in embarrassment, but resists the urge. “I’m good, Joon,” he answers. “Can you, uh, make me some coffee? With a lot of milk and sugar?”
“You got it, kiddo,” Namjoon answers, and Jeongguk breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the clack of Namjoon’s slippers move away from the door.
Jeongguk strips out of his damp clothes, wrinkling his nose. He hadn't planned to do laundry today, but he supposes it can’t be helped. Namjoon is a beta, so Jeongguk knows his scent won't trigger anything, but he thinks it'd be rude to leave his clothes lying around, especially when they smell so strongly.
