this story came from a prompt assembled thanks to a fun generator on twitter (@ clichefest)

(more on that later )

this story contains this yoongi

who gets dragged to his best friend jimin's casting audition

and sees this hoseok

executive producer busy casting his film

🎬 unscripted 🎬

prompt: summer break/casting couch/ 'i like it' 'i know'

tags: casting couch; unapologetic smut; yoonmin are hyper-critical (read: bicker lovingly) best friends; impulses override logic, and yoongi rides hoseok

7.2k words

🎬

There was something about waking up midday during summer break that would never get old.

Elements in his somewhat established routine, which included mild annoyances, that came together and brought Min Yoongi comfort.

The way his apartment air conditioner sputtered in and out of commission because the landlord switched it to some "energy efficiency" setting (or claimed to) so Yoongi alternated between dying in searing hot agony or piling all blankets atop his body to avoid the arctic blasts.

The way he could lazily roll over every hour or so to turn off the 'just in case I want to be a productive member of society' alarms on his phone set at varying intervals in the single-digit hours. Because more than wanting to give himself the option to change his vacation-mode ways, there really was a very specific and satisfying... thrill in declining to participate in human activities.

The way he could hear the melodies of ice cream trucks and a lawnmower three stories down, the summer sounds that he simply coexisted with as a kid were somehow more meaningful now that he was an adult, a college student finally on summer break.

Summer break after a whole school year working, arguably, the hardest he had in his entire life because he was going to graduate next fall if it was the last thing he did.

Working the hardest he could just to graduate and continue working the hardest he could, but this time in his adult job, with a real paycheck, in the real world.

And after that, summer break wouldn't quite have the same meaning, would it?

Maybe that's when things got old.

For now, Yoongi kept his eyes closed, listening to bird noises and a bicycle horn, basking in the knowledge that he had zero plans this summer and ignoring the fact that he was probably going nowhere, fast.

In a way, it was nice.

Until he felt eyes watching him.

He furrowed his eyebrows together, an expression of protest claiming his features as he opened his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the light, "Minie, cut it out. I can feel you staring. When d'you get here?"

Park Jimin, the Childhood Best Friend™, sat in the opposite corner of Yoongi's studio apartment, legs folded up underneath him in the chair, sipping coffee he brewed in Yoongi's kitchen while Yoongi faded in and out of existence in his summer haze, just watching Yoongi and on the verge of laughter.

Another integral part of Yoongi's summer break, Jimin was the kind of friend that didn't ask what your plan for the day was. He just kind of showed up, used his set of keys to let himself into your apartment, and... became the plans for the day.

Which worked well for Yoongi since if anything was left up to him he'd probably not move from his bed for anything but food and bathroom breaks (if the first couple weeks of his summer break had been any indication).

"Mm... probably about half an hour ago," Jimin answered, waving a bundle of pages that Yoongi recognized and had probably memorized by this point. "I need your help."

"Again? Minie, you could recite those lines in your sleep-"

"Recite. Recite? As in the ability to repeat? So I'm less of an actor and more of a fucking parrot-"

"Jimin!" Yoongi threw the blankets off his legs and stood, rubbing his temples, "I know you're nervous about this role, but don't twist my words. I just woke up, I don't have it in me to navigate your mental gymnastics-"

A pout, like a sucker-punch to Yoongi's gut, formed on Jimin's lips, "The casting call is today. I was hoping you'd help me run through my lines one more time. And I need you to help me work on my delivery, apparently."

Before Yoongi could threaten Jimin with 'delivering' him a swift and painful death directly out of the third-story window, his best friend was offering him a cup of coffee in his favorite mug.

"Fine," Yoongi sighed, defeated, as he accepted the coffee. "I'll clear my schedule."

"Thank you. I know you had so many previous engagements."

"Yeah. One of which was calling someone to change my locks-"

"Min Yoongi, I am the sole reason you still socialize with human beings-"

Yoongi put his hands up, as if to protect himself from Jimin's verbal onslaught, "Minie, Minie- Give me two minutes to let the caffeine kick in and then I promise to read your future costar's lines monotonously, okay?"

🎬

Jimin sat across from Yoongi at the kitchen table, eyes expressive and Yoongi could have sworn there were tears springing into the corners, 'There will never be a picket fence. We'll... We'll never be picturesque but we'll be you and... me. We'll fight and we'll keep running. Now. Get. Up."

Yoongi dropped the screenplay onto the table and applauded, genuinely, "Holy shit, Jimin. When you first told me the character would be a serial killer I was skeptical, but this has you written all over it."

Jimin wiped the corner of his eye with the palm of his hand, "It's my favorite scene."

"Minie, it wasn't even a scene before you got involved, it was just words on some script writer's screen. You fucking did that. I have- I have literal goosebumps- What time is the casting call? Is there anything you need to pick up first?"

"It's in like... a little more than an hour? I sent them my digital portfolio so I just need to show up- Can... Can you go with me, I'm literally shaking-"

"Of course. Schedule's cleared, remember? Also, you're shaking because you just delivered a standing-ovation scene."

Jimin rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same at the praise as he turned the well-worn pages of the script back to the beginning of another scene, "Should we go over this one again?"

Yoongi scanned the page, understanding that Jimin's nerves pushed him to practice endlessly, but also knowing the unspoken agreement they each had being each others' Childhood Best Friend™: Jimin helped prevent Yoongi from permanently fusing to his bed during times of indecisiveness and Yoongi helped prevent Jimin from driving himself insane with his perfectionist tendencies.

So he shook his head, "Minie, don't waste that talent in my kitchen, okay? I think you couldn't possibly be more ready. Here's the plan: I'm going to shower, you're going to listen to music and not freak out. And before we leave, let's just figure out where we can order from as a victory dinner after the audition, yeah?"

Jimin's eyes widened at the thought of food, "Yes."

🎬

"You ready?"

"I don't think it matters. I'm doing this."

"That's a great attitude," Yoongi gave his best friend a teasing look and stuck his feet into his shoes, "Let's go. We have a fate to seal."

"That sounds so dramatic, Yoongi. When I'm probably not even going to-"

"Lalala- I refuse to listen to self-deprecation, thank you," Yoongi stepped out into the hallway, Jimin in tow as he descended the stairs, "You're gonna act the shit out of that script."

Jimin followed, hopping down the last two steps to the second-floor landing, "So eloquent."

They continued down the stairs, bickering as was customary. It was the one constant about their friendship, really, that they were almost nearly always at each others' throats to the point that onlookers might never believe that they were, in fact, friends.

But the thing about each of them was that their own inner critics became so tiring to deal with that it was genuinely comforting to fight with each other instead. It was how they showed they cared.

They reached the ground floor of Yoongi's apartment building, Yoongi pausing to open his mailbox and slam it back closed with a metal clang when he saw it was empty.

He pushed the front door open and grimaced at the literal twenty-degree temperature difference of the outside world.

He frowned up at the sun and turned back to Jimin, "You driving or 'm I?"

"Either is fine with me- no wait I'm parked in your landlady's spot so I should move my car. Your cheap ass needs to pitch in for guest parking passes."

Yoongi followed Jimin to the assigned parking spaces on the side of the building, "Why, when I can indulge in the thrill of my visitors having to leave at a certain time so their car won't be reported? Call it insurance for the introverted."

Jimin yanked open the driver's side door and piled in at the same time as Yoongi on the other side, "You've really cracked the system there. Pick some music."

"Sure you don't want some high-stakes script practice while you drive?"

"I know it's hard to tell because I'm a world-class actor, but I'm ignoring you."

Yoongi picked up Jimin's phone from the cupholder and unlocked the screen (they'd each had the same password since middle school, their favorite idol's birth date; things never really changed) and scrolled through Jimin's playlists.

He laughed at one titled "hype rap because i deserve to feel unstoppable" but picked it anyway before leaning back in the seat and zoning out as the vehicle moved, watching the leafy tree branches pass by against clear summer skies, Jimin in his periphery bopping in his seat at the stoplights.

Before he knew it the car had stopped at their destination and Jimin was indeed energized from the playlist as Yoongi noticed no signs of apprehension in his features as he looked up at the building and opened his door.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. I wanna punch something."

Yoongi laughed as they exited the car, letting the door fall closed behind him before they approached the building, "Well, as entertaining as watching you deck a producer could be, I'm gonna advise you to hold off and let your performance do the talking."

Jimin pulled on the handle of the frosted glass door that led into the building's lobby and led them to the directory on the wall, "I mean, the character is a psychopath, method-acting could be a very powerful move."

Yoongi looked around the lobby, the expansive marble flooring and high ceilings making Jimin's voice carry. He saw the elderly security guard at the desk perk up a bit at Jimin's words. Yoongi imagined the old man being summoned as the first line of defense in response to his friend's hypothetical 'method-acting' and chuckled to himself.

He stopped just behind Jimin at the directory, "You are a completely different person to an hour ago, may I say."

"Oh, it's fading fast, don't worry," said Jimin over his shoulder as he scanned the listings, letting his finger trail down the catalog of office locations.

He turned back to Yoongi with a flicker of the usual pre-audition anxiety returning to his eyes, "Fourth floor, grab the elevator?"

"Mhm."

They stood wordlessly in the ambient hum of elevator music and glow from the soft lights in the ceiling panels. Yoongi watched as the numeral on the digital display changed from L to 2 to 3 before he spoke again.

"You're gonna be fine, Jimin. If there was ever anyone meant for something, it's you. Not even necessarily for this role, but for acting, you know? There's just something that clicks, you go somewhere - I've seen it when you practice and perform - even back in fucking high school. You morph into whoever you're trying to portray and I don't see Jimin again until it's over and it's amazing. I wish I was that good at something."

He could have stopped before that last part, why make it about himself. But it was true.

While Yoongi enjoyed the work he was doing for his degree in music writing and production, he didn't necessarily think he brought anything special to his field the way his best friend did with acting.

It was one of the many things that freaked him out now that he was only (potentially) a semester away from graduating, making times like this - his last summer break - unnecessarily stressful as he placed all the pressure of 'lasts' on himself, ultimately becoming frozen in indecisiveness.

All while the clock ticked closer to the point when he'd be flung head-first into the next chapter of his life.

But, one existential crisis at a time.

"I- wow. Thanks, Yoongi." Jimin blinked at him as the elevator dinged. "This is it."

Jimin stepped out ahead of him and signed in on a clipboard on the receptionist's desk. They passed further into the room where there was an assortment of comfortable couches and chairs and a few end tables with flowers and small bowls of individually wrapped peppermints. Opposite the receptionist's desk were two office doors where the castings were taking place, a second table between them where a secondary clipboard rested.

The receptionist waved them over to the second table, "Add your name there too, hun."

Yoongi glanced around while Jimin jotted his name and arrival time on the other clipboard. Two other people sat in the comfy chairs texting furiously on their phones and one other pacing near the windows.

"At least there aren't a lot of people," Yoongi offered as he watched Jimin's eyes land on the auditioner by the windows who flipped through the screenplay and wrung their hands together, "Hey. Why don't we sit here-"

He pointed to a chair, immediately (and loudly) rotating it to face away from the would-be actors whose anxieties could fuck with Jimin's composure any further.

"Yoongi."

The disruption earned them more than a few annoyed glances but Yoongi didn't care, "Minie."

The look on Jimin's face said that he knew Yoongi's intentions exactly, but even as he sat in the rotated chair he huffed, "If you embarrass me I will disown you."

Yoongi laughed and leaned forward to whisper, "It's better to face that way. The receptionist has a fountain on her desk. It's relaxing."

"Okay..." Jimin unwrapped a peppermint and popped it into his mouth, pocketing the wrapper, "Look, Yoongi, I'm a little edgy but I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown just because...," he lowered his voice and nodded abruptly to the person pacing, "because someone else is. I'm okay."

"Alright."

"So..."

"What?"

"So. Why are you constantly available?" Jimin kicked his shoe, "It's not that I don't appreciate you helping me practice, but we need to get you some hobbies."

"Fuck you, I have hobbies." Yoongi almost kept a fixed, stern expression, but caved laughing. He was no actor.

Jimin laughed along with him, "You know what I mean. You worked yourself to the bone last semester and you deserve some fun."

"I think that part of my brain atrophied."

Jimin rolled his eyes, "Yoongi. Whether I get this part or not, I'll be free for the next couple nights. We should go hit up the bar on campus. I can be your wingman."

"You're going to get the part, and then I will never know if anyone I meet is genuine or just using me to be part of your spotlight... Fuck. When I started that sentence I was joking but now I think it's something I will actually have to worry about."

Jimin nodded, "Exactly. So before I get a call after the audition today, you'll have to take advantage of me not being famous yet and hoe it up without second-guessing yourself."

Yoongi rubbed his temples in disbelief at the words leaving his best friend's mouth, "How did we get here, Minie? You're a bad influence I swear."

"Bad influence, but great wingman. Offer still stands."

"I'll keep it in mind."

A door opened behind Jimin and the sound sent Jimin into a mild fight-or-flight stance, hands tensing on the arms of the chair.

"Can you see in there?," his friend's voice came out as a whisper and it somewhat surprised Yoongi, but he leaned over a little to peer into the open doorway hoping a quick description would maybe take away some of the fear and anticipation.

Kind of like seeing the prosthetic makeup applied to a movie monster before watching the horror film made it a little less terrifying.

"Mhm. Boring, solid gray paint on the back wall, big ol' plant in the corner. Hotel-ish paintings hung on the wall. A table that could totally bully my table at home-"

And then someone stepped into the doorway, eighty-five percent leg, sixty percent glowing skin, ninety percent big-dick energy.

Yes, it was more than one-hundred percent and well-deserved because Yoongi decided that this person was disproportionately attractive compared to literally anyone else he'd ever met.

The man read a name from the clipboard and stepped back into the room, sitting back at the table within Yoongi's view, waiting as the next auditioner gathered themselves and went into the room.

The door began closing slowly and as it did Yoongi leaned farther and farther to the left, eyes on the man at the table until the door was shut and he physically couldn't see him anymore.

Though his features might have been burned into his retinas.

"Yoongi, could you... I dunno, maybe not check out the ass of my competition while I wait for my casting call?"

"What- No. I wasn't-" Yoongi shook his head, "Shut up."

"Right."

"I wasn't. Who was that?"

Jimin gaped at him, "You realize you turned my chair this way," he pointed with his fingers to emphasize that he was facing the receptionist, "right?"

"Whatever. Who's conducting the pre-production casting shit?"

Jimin rolled his eyes and pulled up the information from the casting email and did a Google search of the team listed.

"Was it either of them?" he held up his phone, "One is the executive producer and the other is the director."

Yoongi pointed to the bottom right of the picture and Jimin supplied, "Ahh. Jung Hoseok, executive producer. No pressure."

Jimin let out a long labored exhale and buried his head in his hands and Yoongi pushed the image of Hoseok's slightly unbuttoned shirt out of his mind, "Hey, hey. Cut it out, you're gonna be great."

They sat in the waiting room, devolving into a resurfaced argument about where they should go out to eat afterward and before either of them knew it, the office door was opening again.

"You'll hear from us by the end of the week."

This was a different voice and when Yoongi looked up he saw a man as tall as a tree.

Jimin peered around as the man picked up the clipboard- and turned back sinking further into his chair, "It's the director, Kim Namjoon. They're both here today-"

"Park Jimin?" the man read from the clipboard, looking up, eyes passing from the boy still pacing by the windows stopped where Yoongi sat with Jimin.

Yoongi leaned forward and patted Jimin's shoulder, "You got this."

Jimin stood slowly and lifted a hand, shifting to address the director,"That's me, good afternoon!" He turned to Yoongi and whispered, "See you later."

"Break a leg."

"That's for stage actors, idiot!"

Yoongi chuckled as Jimin walked into the office, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

And then he sat, the quietness of the waiting room and the way the time just dragged all the more noticeable without Jimin there to talk to.

He passed the time scrolling through his phone but an image invaded his thoughts and before his mind could catch up to his hands he was typing 'Jung Hoseok' in a Google search.

The resulting images and articles did not disappoint.

Jung On Set: 'Blue Side' let Yoongi see the producer at work.

Executive Producer Jung Hoseok at the Premiere of 'Boy Meets Evil' brought him more photos of the man looking absolutely unfair in his red-carpet attire.

He wondered if somehow Jimin could introduce-

No, Yoongi don't be-

The young actor who had been pacing by the windows plopped down onto the couch diagonal to Yoongi, the sound of his fingers nervously drumming the leather cushion and his loud sigh breaking Yoongi's thoughts.

The boy slid his phone from his pocket, studying the screen before frowning, pressing a contact with his thumb and lifting the phone to his ear.

Yoongi wasn't trying to listen to the lowered voice, but in the quiet of the room it was almost unavoidable.

"Babe- Babe, I can't do this. I'm not prepared enough and just waiting here is making me- Yeah, could you? I can wait downstairs but I can't stay in this room- Okay, thank you."

The young man got up and walked over to the receptionist's desk and Yoongi figured he was already accidentally eavesdropping so... might as well continue.

"Um.. Hi, sorry. Can you direct me to the exit? I can't remember my way out and I'm just kind of nerv-"

The receptionist nodded, seeing the young man so shaken up, "Of course! Come on, honey."

Yoongi watched them walk out of the waiting area and suddenly his heart was in his ears and his eyes darted to the clipboard.

His fingers twitched.

No. It's asinine.

What would Jimin think?

'Yoongi, you're asinine' probably.

He'd never hear the end of it.

He stood and walked over to the table, picking up the pen.

What was he supposed to do when he got in there?

Audition?

I mean...

Feasibly, he could.

He'd helped Jimin practice so often that he knew the key plot-points of the film and lines to major scenes.

He didn't need to do well.

He just needed to get in the door.

He clicked the top of the pen, without even thinking, making a few... "adjustments" to the name of the guy who bailed until it read 'Min Yoongi'.

Or at least it looked like 'Min Yoongi' if it had been written by someone actively suffering a stroke.

He threw the pen back down and sat in his chair just before the receptionist returned.

🎬

Yoongi just about had a heart attack when the door he'd been staring at with laser-focus suddenly opened.

He recognized the man from the photo earlier, Kim Namjoon, holding open the door.

Jimin emerged, grinning ear-to-ear and eyes bright with an expression Yoongi recognized as nothing more than absolute victory.

Yoongi glanced at the clipboard recalling his idiocy, having half a mind to go and cross out his name.

Before Jimin could open his mouth to say anything, the man in the doorway spoke, "You'll definitely be hearing from us..." and then after glancing around the empty room, he added, "unless- Hoseok there's only one more on the waitlist, do you think-"

"Go for it, I'll take the last," came a voice from the office and had Yoongi not been sitting, his knees would've buckled.

Namjoon spoke again, "If you have time, Mr. Park, rather than scheduling a separate callback, I'd love it if you could do a secondary with some stand-in readers. They're in the office downstairs- early for afternoon callback readings."

Jimin nodded his head so quickly in response, his excited disbelief nearly palpable, "Yes! Thank you so much-"

"Great," Namjoon beamed, "Excuse me."

Jimin spun around to face Yoongi as the director stepped into the office to pick up his notes, "Ohmygod!!! Yoongi this is it!!"

Yoongi watched his friend's fists ball up. "What'd I tell you? Park Jimin will be a household name... Um- Can I show you something?"

Jimin looked back into the office, where Namjoon spoke to Hoseok, "I.. guess?"

But before Yoongi could direct Jimin's attention to the clipboard, the director returned and the executive producer's voice could again be heard within the office, "Could you send in the last audition?"

Namjoon picked up the clipboard, squinting at the layered writing, "... Min...? Yoon- I can't read this-"

Yoongi lifted his hand in a short wave and Jimin's head whipped around, mouth fighting a smile and eyes dancing with 'I don't know what the fuck this is but I'd better hear about it later'.

He stepped forward, "Min Yoongi. What I lack in penmanship I more than make up for in my emotional delivery."

"Oookay," Namjoon gestured to the door as if to wave Yoongi inside and addressed Jimin, "Let's grab the elevator."

Yoongi watched them head off to Jimin's second casting audition before he took a breath, stepping into the office.

He gave a short bow and introduced himself, "Min Yoongi."

Jung Hoseok sat behind the table, eyes flitting from Yoongi to the screen of his laptop, head tilting before he spoke, "Jung Hoseok. You can close the door."

Yoongi did, having no plan of action, and when he turned back around the producer spoke again.

"Well, Min Yoongi, you don't match the name or the headshot of my 2 o'clock."

Yoongi cleared his throat, remembering that he was bullshitting his way into someone else's casting call. "I- they left a little while ago."

"And you thought that you'd, what? Come be "discovered"? You some kind of vulture that stakes out casting calls waiting for a flake-"

Yoongi watched Hoseok's hand drifting to an intercom, probably to notify the receptionist - or that old security dude in the lobby - and he stepped closer waving his hands, "No! No-no! I'm not even an actor!" How was this helping- "I came here with my friend earlier and I saw you and I just-"

"You just what?"

Hoseok eyed him up, finger resting lightly on the intercom, eyebrow raised.

Yoongi's mind raced, but his voice didn't falter. Ready to risk just about anything, even if it meant being escorted out by an elderly man, "I just... I understood the appeal of those casting couch situations."

Hoseok's eyes stayed on him and Yoongi watched them process his words.

And then... he pressed the button.

Shit.

"Yes, Mr. Jung?"

Yoongi tensed, eyes fixed on the floor and taking a step backward until his fingers tapped the doorknob, telling himself internally that he deserved to have security called on him. He deserved whatever was coming to him.

"Ms. Guo, do I have any more appointments waiting?"

Yoongi's head snapped back up.

"No, Mr. Jung, not until the callbacks at four."

"Thank you, Ms. Guo. Why don't you take an early lunch and be back by our callback time? I'll see this one out when he's through."

The receptionist sounded thrilled to have an extended lunch break, "Thank you so much, Mr. Jung!"

Hoseok smiled, lifted his finger off of the intercom, and leaned back in his chair, amused, "You were saying?"

Yoongi released his grip on the doorknob.

Wait- really?

And all he could say was-

"Wait- really?"

"I'm not one to abuse my power in this business," Hoseok stood behind the table, slipping his suit jacket off and around the back of his chair before looking back at Yoongi, "So if you want in on the first - and last - casting couch experience with Jung Hoseok, you should probably lock the door."

Well, this was supposed to be his summer of lasts and Yoongi had never locked a door so quickly in his life.

Hoseok stepped out from behind the table and crossed the room, seating himself instead on the couch.

The couch. That made sense.

Yoongi wasn't sure how this was supposed to go, but the couch had to factor in somewhere, right?

It's called 'casting-couch' not 'casting-bent-over-the-table'-

Although that would also have been an idea welcomed with open arms.

And then, in an almost out-of-body experience, Yoongi climbed into the man's lap. Hands on his shoulders, one knee planted on either side of his hips, but still hovering just barely above the producer's body. Careful. As if he hadn't already gotten this far.

He felt breath hot on his face as he slid his hands down the producer's shoulders. Down the neckline of his unbuttoned shirt, the pads of his fingers followed the seams to the third button from the top. He pushed it through the hole and gave a light pull to the material, revealing just barely a sliver more of skin.

Yoongi brought his mouth there, his hands developing a mind of their own, fingers catching on the fabric as he unbuttoned the shirt further, lips following and legs sliding down the couch to the floor - where he probably should have been to start with to be honest, but Yoongi, as stated, had no plan of action.

But if Hoseok's head falling onto the backrest of the couch while he watched Yoongi with half-lidded eyes and increasingly heavy breathing was any indication, the producer appreciated a bit of improvisation. Probably the type who enjoyed jazz.

Focus.

He reached the last couple buttons, untucking the shirt from Hoseok's pants, hands falling on the belt. The belt.

His hands rested there for a second, fingers tracing the smooth finish of the metal buckle.

"Go for it," the producer's playful voice at once mocked him and urged him on and Yoongi didn't need to be told twice.

The click of the belt buckle and the slide of the leather as he backtracked, letting his tongue drag against Hoseok's skin. Hyperfocused on the taste of Hoseok on his tongue left his other senses dulled, for now. But he was still aware of the sound of the zipper and the producer shifting on the couch, lifting his hips so that Yoongi could pull his pants, boxers, every damn thing, down until it pooled around his ankles.

After a beat, Yoongi picked up the clothes and placed them on the couch, figuring they must cost more than his rent.

He licked his lips, watching Hoseok's dick bobbing out in the open, a scene that was honestly better than any his imagination could have whipped up had he gone home alone to his apartment tonight. So of course as he crawled forward, up between the man's legs, his hands sliding up bare thighs, feeling the producer's hands wandering into his hair, he said a silent 'thank you' to whatever gods were listening.

This - this?! - was the moment in which Yoongi's brain chose to slow down a little, take pause, ask how in the hell he'd gotten into this position. How in the hell had this worked?

There was no way he was this lucky.

But Hoseok's hand disrupted the attempts that Yoongi's brain made at bringing logic and reason into this. He tilted Yoongi's face up, "Second thoughts?"

Yoongi brought himself back, focusing again on the man seated in front of him as he kneeled.

"Absolutely not," he leaned forward and let his tongue drag up the entire length of the producer's rapidly hardening cock, circling around the head and tasting precum on his tongue.

"Fuck."

Yoongi felt the hand in his hair tense, rising and falling with his movements as he kept working his mouth, lips dragging over the shaft. Letting his tongue trace the ridges and hearing the way each breath fluctuated. He took his time, drawing it out because this could quite possibly be his favorite part of sex in general.

Hoseok's hands moved in his hair, brushing it back and Yoongi finally sank his mouth down to the base and felt fingers tightening reflexively, unintentionally pulling strands of hair. He brought his own hand on top of Hoseok's, a silent reminder of 'hey, this hurts like shit' without stopping his movements.

"Sorry- oh, fuck!"

The hand in his hair relaxed a bit and Yoongi continued bobbing his head, lazily rolling his tongue around Hoseok for a bit before quickening his pace little by little, getting into his element. Almost a fucking meditative state at this point.

Until he felt Hoseok pushing him off.

Yoongi leaned farther back, resting his weight lower and turned his head toward the door. He turned back, having half a mind to ask if maybe Hoseok heard someone come back to the outer office.

And that's when he saw Hoseok crooking his finger, "Stand up. Come here."

Yoongi stood, stepping forward, knees flush against the edge of the couch between the producer's legs and Hoseok sat up fully, hands running along Yoongi's legs. Up the backs of his thighs, following the waist of his jeans to the button and zipper.

He opened them, eyes watching Yoongi's but Yoongi wasn't about to ask him to stop, just helping as the producer hooked his fingers under the waistbands of his jeans and his boxers and pulled them down to the floor.

Yoongi stepped out of them, looking back at the man on the couch who could have bored holes into his eyes with the intensity of his stare. Hoseok's hand enclosed around Yoongi's wrist pulling him back into his lap, how they started at the beginning.

Fingers tracing up his thighs to his hands, up his arms and across his shoulders. Yoongi let his eyes slip closed honing in on the feeling of Hoseok's fingers as they came to the outer edges of his face, down and around his jaw, a sensation so light and so simple and so... so good that Yoongi's lips fell open.

Hoseok's hand stopped on his jaw, thumb grazing Yoongi's bottom lip and Yoongi opened his eyes, chasing the movement with his mouth.

"Ah-ah. Not that one," Hoseok smirked, bringing up his middle finger and index finger together, "walking" them slowly up Yoongi's chin. When they reached his mouth, one finger tapped his lip, and Yoongi smiled in spite of himself before sucking both fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and keeping his eyes on Hoseok's.

This close, Yoongi could see his own mouth, bobbing slowly and taking his fingers in deeper, reflected in the producer's eyes as the man watched.

Hoseok licked his own lips as he brought his eyes back up to meet Yoongi's and pulled his fingers from Yoongi's mouth with a little pop. He traced Yoongi's spine with his thumb, stopping at the base before following the curve of his ass and reaching back with his other hand to spread him apart.

Yoongi felt the first wet finger press up against him, making slow circles along his rim, and his body jolted ever so slightly.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," Hoseok's voice was right in his ear, "And I've got a coupl'a lube packets in my wallet, so if this gets uncomfortable, say the word-"

And then Yoongi responded like there was some sort of ten-car pile-up blocking his very articulate thoughts on their way from his brain to his mouth because all he could say was-

"Youcouldgetitnow."

Because as of now it felt far from uncomfortable with the way Hoseok was slowly teasing, but Yoongi knew that he wanted more and he wanted it yesterday.

Hoseok chuckled, sliding his other hand up Yoongi's back in a way that made his skin tingle before leaning over to reach into his pants pocket on the cushion next to them. He pulled out a couple of packets, handing one to Yoongi, "Would you do the honors?"

Yoongi hardly let the words finish leaving the man's mouth before taking the packet and tearing off the corner, turning back where Hoseok's hand was waiting. He tried to control how much he squeezed out and spread over Hoseok's fingers but, realistically, he couldn't promise how careful he would be once he was being stretched open.

"I'm sorry in advance for your couch."

"I made peace with the fact that I'm going to have to get it cleaned the moment you locked my door," Hoseok shrugged, pulling Yoongi's chin toward him into a kiss while his slicked-up fingers sought out his entrance, this time with more purpose.

And more than those fingers' tentatively increasing pressure, finally slipping inside - Yoongi was honestly... more surprised by the kiss.

He didn't know what to expect when he locked that door. He mostly thought he'd end up giving the producer phenomenal head and then catch up with Jimin for food. Or be bent over the table by the producer and have to ask Jimin to carry him piggyback to the car and later to dinner.

Fuck, then eat; that was the gist of it.

He didn't expect the man's tongue and fingers to work in perfectly synched motions to make him crumble to the point that he was moaning into Hoseok's open mouth. He didn't expect warm, patient lips that pressed a smile into his skin. That made his body instantly pliant and mind instantly quiet.

He didn't expect immediate disappointment when Hoseok pulled away, breaking the kiss.

"Wh-Why'd you stop?" Yeah, he was pouting, what of it?

"What?"

And Yoongi knew how idiotic he would sound. The guy who misrepresented his way into a casting call appointment to propose his intention to get railed. The guy with a producer's fingers prepping his ass so that he could be stuffed full of cock. And now all his mind was preoccupied with was-

"The kiss. I liked it."

"I know."

The producer glanced down and Yoongi's eyes followed to where he was positively leaking precum all over Hoseok.

"I mentioned that I'm sorry about your couch, right?"

Hoseok laughed and looked back up into Yoongi's eyes, leaning in and kissing him softly again. Almost too chaste for what his hand was doing now that he was beginning to slip in a second finger.

"Lift your arms for me?" he smiled as Yoongi complied and then lifted Yoongi's shirt off and over his head, leaving Yoongi completely naked in his lap. "Just assuming you don't wanna walk out of here with stains all over your shirt."

And then he pulled Yoongi in again, Yoongi's hands sliding up to Hoseok's shoulders, mouthing sloppy kisses as the producer pumped his fingers in and out at a quicker pace and Yoongi whimpered into his mouth.

Hoseok pulled back again, "Ready for another?"

Yoongi nodded, reaching back and blindly letting a few drops from the packet fall onto Hoseok's fingers, mentally debating if he should apologize, yet again, for the couch- But all thoughts slipped right out of his mind when Hoseok lined up his fingers and pushed them back in, curling them and setting off what seemed like every last nerve ending in his body.

He leaned forward, forehead dropping onto the producer's shoulder trying to have the presence of mind not to accidentally squeeze out the remaining liquid from the packet onto the man's chest, but his fingers felt so good and Yoongi's thighs started tremoring, stomach tightening, eyes squeezing shut as he wailed into the collar of Hoseok's shirt.

And maybe this was because Yoongi had no concept of time in this state, but almost as suddenly as the buildup began, Yoongi felt Hoseok remove his fingers, eliciting a whimper of protest from the boy.

"Hold on, now," his voice low and with a tinge of warning, bringing his hand up to hold Yoongi steady so that when he leaned over again to reach his pants pocket Yoongi wouldn't topple over since his limbs were now like jelly. Yoongi watched the producer pull the condom out of his wallet, clamping down on the corner with his teeth so he could open it one-handed.

He sat back upright and only then did he let go of his hold on Yoongi so he could slide the condom on, taking the lube packet from Yoongi's hands to empty all that remained into his palm. Eyes on Yoongi's, he stroked himself a couple of times before crooking his finger again.

Yoongi inched forward until his chest was flush with Hoseok's, placing both hands on his shoulders to steady himself before he lifted with his thighs noticing Hoseok lining himself up beneath him.

He let out a gasp as Hoseok, holding his hips steady, pushed slowly into him. The pressure, intense and immediate, caused Yoongi to throw his head back, anchoring himself to Hoseok, gripping his forearms as the producer guided him lower.

And, true to form his mind recalled, in an invasive memory of sorts, his thought from earlier today. When his hand clutched the doorknob, awaiting his fate after Hoseok pressed the intercom.

The thought that he deserved whatever was coming to him.

Yoongi's hands tightened their hold on Hoseok's arms, shaking, but he opened his eyes to watch the man's face as he pushed himself up and off until only the head of Hoseok's cock was still inside of him.

And then he dropped himself back down. Breath punched out of him, an involuntary smile coming to his lips at the perfect way Hoseok filled him, stretched him. And Yoongi put the work in. Repeating the motion. Up, up, almost off, and then - one fluid motion - back down. Fully seated. To the hilt. Rotating his hips to tease himself with the internal friction, taking more of what he fucking deserved until he saw Hoseook's eyes widen and squeeze shut.

"Holy shit."

And that was Yoongi's cue to resume his rhythm, rising and falling as Hoseok's hands and mouth traced his body. He closed his eyes as they rolled back, overwhelmed with the sheer sensory overload. Having a fucking religious experience in the casting office.

He found Hoseok's lips, kissing him as his body started trembling, his movements becoming less accurate but no one was complaining.

He felt a welcomed pressure return on his hips as Hoseok helped him ride through his orgasm, spilling over the man's navel. Yoongi's upper body went limp, arms slinking around Hoseok's neck and head feeling light, but he kept his lower body raised as Hoseok fucked into him until he, too, came into the condom with a low moan.

It was all he could do to lift his head so that he could put his lips to Hoseok's ear, the laughter in his voice giving him away before he could finish his statement, "I'm... ah-- sorry about-"

Hoseok smiled, head falling onto the backrest of the couch, laughs mixed in with residual breathlessness, "- about the couch. I know."

The producer ran his hands through Yoongi's hair and pulled him into another kiss before turning to rummage in his pants pockets again.

He returned upright, handing Yoongi his unlocked phone, "Gonna need your number."

Yoongi snatched the phone, gaping back at him in disbelief, "I swear if you say it's for the cleaning bill, I will burn your studio to the ground."

Hoseok laughed aloud, letting Yoongi see the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, a detail he was already committing to memory.

"That's a good one. I was just going to say you more than earned your 'call back'."

Yoongi gave the phone back, "That's respectable."

The laughter died down between them and Hoseok threw his phone back onto his pile of clothes, hands automatically back on Yoongi's sides, fingertips tracing shapes into his skin absent-mindedly.

His eyes watched Yoongi's for a bit and then he broke the silence between them.

"Got any plans this summer?"

the end

🎬

[a/n]

i had fun writing this

also, if you're curious about jimin's audition for the serial killer role

he got it

not related to this universe but i wanted to sneak it in here anyway

i'll start posting in october, but maybe a sneak-peek first part when i have time

thanks for reading

💜💜