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When they got back to their place, it was the same as always. Yoongi went first in the shower while Namjoon started putting things away and called for takeout. By the time Namjoon had gotten out of the shower, their food was here and Yoongi had it all set up. They guzzled water and ate piles of noodles in silence, hunger and exhaustion taking over anything else. Namjoon put on Unpretty Rapstar and curled up on the couch, Yoongi leaning against him. He wasn’t sure if he could kiss Yoongi now, was that a thing they were doing? Was that kiss on the mountain just a fluke? He wanted- he wanted everything, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. It seemed weird that they’d just dive into a physical relationship now, after everything. It was like the mountain had been a dream, and this was their reality. Yoongi’s arm was pressed into Namjoon’s side and he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to do more. He didn’t know how to ask for that. “I can hear you thinking,” Yoongi finally said, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss on Namjoon’s lips. “Stop.”He pulled back, but Namjoon stopped him with a hand to his jaw and kissed him again, savoring the taste of his lips. He tasted like lip balm and jajangmyeon and nothing particularly good, but he tasted like Yoongi, and that was more than enough. Emboldened, Namjoon kissed him again, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. “Mmm,” Yoongi said, looking pleased as he finally pulled away. Namjoon draped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, reveling in the warmth of his body as they watched the rest of the show.When it was over, they cleaned up together, Yoongi grabbing the dishes as Namjoon put away the leftover food. He made sure to portion it out into smaller containers so they could have it for lunches; if he just put it in the fridge as is, it’d rot back there. Yoongi was awful at remembering what food was where if it was in a big container, but he knew to grab the little bento boxes Namjoon had ordered in bulk last summer. “I’m ready for bed,” Yoongi yawned. “Your room or mine?”Namjoon froze. Oh. Right. This was what they were doing now, they’d-- they could. Do that. Huh. “You don’t have to,” Yoongi was saying as he rinsed out his mug. “We can take this as slow as you want, sleep in our own rooms.”But Namjoon didn’t want that. He was stuck looking at Yoongi’s hands, rough and a little crooked, carefully folding their dishtowel, and he wondered, suddenly, how those hands would feel on his body. Fuck taking it slow, they’d been taking it slow for years.The knob of spine peeking out from the collar of Yoongi’s shirt, the flash of his wrists, the curve of his lips as he talked, it was too much, all at once. Namjoon felt his mouth go dry and heat washed over his body, making his legs shake. Before he realized what he was doing, He crossed the few feet between them, pressing the full length of his body against Yoongi’s back, interlacing his hand with Yoongi’s, pushing it flat against the counter. “Fuck slow,” he said, rubbing his face into the softness of Yoongi’s hair, inhaling the citrus scent of his shampoo. He heard Yoongi’s breath hitch, and he took that as permission to wrap his free hand around Yoongi’s waist and hitch him closer. Yoongi made a soft noise as Namjoon pressed his lips to the back of his neck, and then did it again using his teeth, his tongue. They’d barely done anything but Namjoon was already hard, trying not to grind into Yoongi as he kissed his way down to Yoongi’s shoulder, mouthing at the top of his spine. “Fuck,” Yoongi muttered, shuddering under Namjoon. He was braced against the counter with one arm and his whole body was taut, Namjoon could feel the rigidity of his muscles in his shoulders, his thighs. Suddenly, Yoongi pushed back and spun around, yanking Namjoon closer with their interlaced hands. His hand came up as Namjoon dipped his head down and as their lips touched, Namjoon felt those big, strong fingers cradling his jaw, angling his face to make the kiss deeper. Namjoon wondered why he thought this would be awkward, this was incredible, this was everything he wanted, the love of his life making needy little noises into his mouth, the familiar feel of his body, but better, better, better. He ran his hands down Yoongi’s side, feeling the bony curve of his hip, down to his ass, cupping under his thigh and hitching his leg up. Namjoon moaned as he finally gave in and pushed their hips together. His breath stuttering as he curled into Yoongi, making himself small into Yoongi’s neck. “Hyung,” he panted. Yoongi pressed his cheek against Namjoon’s. Namjoon could feel his eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Bed,” he rasped. Namjoon shuddered, his hips jerking into the hardness in Yoongi’s sweatpants. “Namjoonie, bed, we have two of them—““Yours is closer,” Namjoon said, reluctantly pulling away. “Hyung, come on.”They made it to Yoongi’s room, shedding clothes the whole way, until they both fell onto the bed only in their boxers. Namjoon had seen Yoongi naked before, countless times, at home and at the jjimjilbang. He’d never thought much about it before now; he was aware of his knobby knees and barrel chest and wide shoulders, but he hadn’t thought about the way the flush spread from his cheeks to his throat to his chest. Or the way his dark eyes seemed to swallow Namjoon whole, or the feeling of the soft hair on the tops of his thighs pressing against Namjoon’s waist. As they crashed together on top of Yoongi’s soft sheets, Namjoon reached over and fumbled in the decorative basket on the shelves next to Yoongi’s bed. Yoongi snorted. “How do you know where I keep my lube?”“We’re married, remember?” It was a joke, Namjoon was joking, but it sounded serious when he said it, utterly fond and full of wonder, and when he crawled back over Yoongi’s body, Yoongi hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, nipping at his lower lip and smiling into his mouth. Yoongi trailed his hands down Namjoon’s back, pulling down his boxers and grabbing his ass along the way. “Married means we get to do this all the time.” God. Namjoon gasped, circling his hips. He squeezed his eyes shut. All the time. Fuck, it was too much to think about, he was never getting anything else done. Yoongi sat partway up, still holding their hips together, and kissed his way down Namjoon’s throat, biting at his collarbone. It was so much. The feel of his hot little mouth over his skin, those sharp teeth. When his lips closed over Namjoon’s nipple he moaned, loud and long as his cock jerked between them. “Noted,” Yoongi panted. He looked wild and gorgeous and messy, flushed and hot. “What, what do you want, what do you want to do—“ “Just this,” Namjoon said, pulling Yoongi’s boxers off. “Just, whatever, I just want to touch you.”Yoongi scraped his teeth over Namjoon's nipple again and he whimpered, his whole body shaking as he thrashed his hand around in the sheets, looking for the lube. "More," he whispered, pressing his forehead to Yoongi's and pressing a messy kiss to his cheekbone. "More, more, please, more."Somehow Yoongi had found the lube before him and he got one slick hand around Namjoon as he sucked and bit at Namjoon's chest, laving his tongue across one nipple and then another as Namjoon fell apart in his arms."Fuck," Namjoon whispered as he thrust into Yoongi's hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." It was slick and hot and he could feel pleasure curling down his spine, down the back of his legs, all the way into his toes. He felt drawn tight, he couldn't breathe, he could only feel Yoongi's hand, his voice, his breath across his skin. Everything buzzed around him, heat churning in his gut."Next time," Yoongi said, rocking his own hardness into Namjoon's thigh. He sounded breathless, out of control. "Next time, god, you can fuck me next time--""Jesus," Namjoon gasped, and thrust into Yoongi's hand, moaning, as he came, waves of pleasure crashing through him. He gasped, open-mouthed, into Yoongi's neck. He could feel wetness seeping from his lashes and Yoongi held on to him, held him tight through the last of it, his rock, his best friend, his partner forever and ever.As his awareness came back, Namjoon realized Yoongi was still hard and rocking against his thigh, making soft noises in his ear. "Lube," Namjoon muttered. "Gimme lube."But Yoongi was too far gone to answer him. His face was scrunched up and flushed, mottled red and pink spreading from his neck to his chest. He was whimpering and Namjoon could feel how hard he was, his cock jumping as he pressed it into the muscle of Namjoon's thigh.Namjoon flailed his arm out and got his hand on the lube, finally. He popped the cap open and reached down to slick up Yoongi, who went taut and groaned, wet and raspy in Namjoon's ear."Come on," Namjoon said, grabbing the back of Yoongi's thigh and urging him on, "come on, baby, go for it." He dribbled a little more lube just to make it wet and messy and Yoongi shivered, thrusting harder."Please," he whispered, "I need--" and he tilted his face up, capturing Namjoon's lips. Namjoon kissed him, deep and wet and filthy, as Yoongi tensed beneath him, thrusting erratically, chasing his orgasm, until he stilled, pressed his face into Namjoon's neck and came, his breath hitching and stuttering as he arched off the bed. As he came down, Namjoon kissed his hair, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, murmuring how good he was, how pretty he was, how much he loved him. When Yoongi’s breathing slowed down, Namjoon whispered, “This is why people have honeymoons.” Yoongi giggled, hiccuping into Namjoon’s shoulder. “Fuck going anywhere, though,” he said. “I’m not leaving this bed.”“Showers,” Namjoon said, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. “We can get out to shower and answer the door for food delivery.”“I’m not sure what we you’re talking about,” Yoongi said, closing his eyes and snuggling back into the pillow. “You’re the one who made me camp. I’m elderly and sore and tired. You’re going to have to do all the work.” “This is a terrible precedent,” Namjoon said, trying not to sound completely smitten and failing. “Equal distribution of labor is important for a marriage.”“Mmmm,” Yoongi murmured. “Argue with me later after my nap.” “Okay,” Namjoon whispered, kissing his forehead. “I will.”