Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Namgyu is a simple man. He likes routine. He likes structure. He likes to have a Diet Dr. Pepper at 2:00 in the morning when he finally stumbles his way back to his apartment after a long, shitty shift at the convenience store.

It’s not a lot to ask for—a single can of ice cold soda to give him a slight burst of dopamine before he crawls into bed with Jelli and passes out for nine and a half hours. A simple, extraordinarily reasonable desire. 

There is no Diet Dr. Pepper in the fridge tonight. The single can he specifically put in there to chill during his shift is missing. 

He lets out a groan and glances down at Jelli, where she’s sitting on her hind legs and looking up at him expectantly. 

“Did you drink it?” he asks. 

Jelli lets out a tiny snort as she stretches out her little legs and stares at him. Her eyes say it all—fucking goddamn Subong must have drank his Diet Dr. Pepper again .

This is a nightmare. The rest of the twelve-pack he keeps hidden under his bed for this exact reason is room temperature. He can’t have a room temperature Diet Dr. Pepper. It defeats the whole purpose of his 2:00 ritual. A warm Diet Dr. Pepper is a shitty Diet Dr. Pepper. Namgyu is going to murder Subong in his sleep. 

There is light coming out from under Subong’s door. Namgyu is going to murder him while he’s awake, then. 

“Hyung, you motherfucker,” Namgyu growls as he turns the doorknob, “How fucking dare you—”

“Dude, I’m busy.”

Indeed, he is. Subong’s sitting up on his knees on his bed, currently balls deep in a fleshlight. 

Namgyu flings his hands up to cover his face. It’s too late, though. Subong’s camera is propped up by the foot of the bed. The door is fully visible on his computer monitor. Namgyu’s face is fully visible. 

This is not part of Subong’s routine. Why the actual, literal fuck is he filming at 2:00 in the morning instead of 23:00 at night? Namgyu wants to yell at him, both for this and for drinking his precious cold soda, but it’s dawning on him that he’s still just standing there in the doorway, perfectly in view of all the people watching Subong’s stream. So instead of popping off like he wants to, he lets out a choked groan and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. 

“Huh? Nah, that was just my roommate,” he hears Subong say before letting out a litany of played-up, over-exaggerated moans. 

Fuck, how did Namgyu not notice that when he came home? It’s not like Subong is ever discreet when he’s streaming. Though, Namgyu supposes, the Diet Dr. Pepper thing was at the forefront of his mind. 

It’s still at the forefront of his mind. Fucking goddamn Subong has plenty of money. He can afford to buy himself his own Diet Dr. Pepper. Technically he paid for Namgyu’s Diet Dr. Pepper, but still. It’s his . Subong is very well aware of that fact.

Namgyu picks Jelli up and sits on the couch, petting a hand through her fur in a futile effort to quell his anger, as he waits for Subong to close out his stream. It doesn’t take long, thankfully. It can’t be any later than 2:10 when he hears Subong let out a particularly ludicrous whine, followed by a significantly more casual “Bye, guys! See you tomorrow night.”

He won’t be seeing them tomorrow night. He’ll be dead. Namgyu is going to murder him.

“You,” Namgyu hisses out when Subong emerges from his room in a cloud of vape smoke for his usual post-nut snack. Like hell Namgyu is letting him enjoy a bowl of chocolate ice cream right now. He doesn’t deserve a bowl of chocolate ice cream. He’s a thief. “Motherfucker. Why did you drink my Dr. Pepper?”

Subong shoots him a pout as he takes a rip from his vape. “‘You’? Since when do you talk to me like that?”

Of course it’s the ‘you’ that bothers him, and not the ‘motherfucker.’ It makes Namgyu all the more pissed off. 

“Shut up,” Namgyu snaps, crinkling his nose at the overpowering scent of blueberry infiltrating the air. “You stole my Dr. Pepper, you thief.”

Subong rolls his eyes as he saunters over to the freezer. “Just drink one of the ones in your room.”

“Those are room temperature! I can’t drink those.” Namgyu clutches Jelli to his chest and stomps over to the freezer, slamming it closed before Subong can get his hands on the carton of chocolate ice cream. “And why were you streaming so late, huh? What happened to your normal schedule?”

“I had a tummy ache earlier,” Subong says, leaning down to kiss Jelli’s nose. “Let me eat my ice cream.”

He doesn’t deserve to kiss Jelli’s nose right now. Namgyu puts her on the ground, much to both Subong’s and Jelli’s chagrin. “A tummy ache. What are you, a toddler?”

Subong shoots Namgyu a glare and pushes a hand in his face. “Out of my way. I want my ice cream.”

“I want my Dr. Pepper,” Namgyu retorts, slapping Subong’s hand away. 

“Why are you so pissy, huh?” Subong says as he flaps his hand back in Namgyu’s face. “Did you have a shitty day at work? Don’t take it out on me.”

Namgyu lets out an indignant huff when Subong’s hand makes contact with his forehead. “Every day at work is a shitty day at work. You know I need my Dr. Pepper to cope, you bastard.”

“ Fine ,” Subong groans. “I need to take Jelli out anyway.”

Namgyu grins in satisfaction when Subong stomps his way to the door, grumbling as he pulls on his coat and hooks Jelli’s leash to her collar. She totally doesn’t need to be taken out. It’s literally 2:00 in the morning.

“Make sure it’s cold,” Namgyu calls out as Subong closes the door behind himself.

“Whatever, bitch,” he hears Subong say as he retreats down the hall of their apartment complex with a deeply confused Jelli in tow. 

Namgyu goes out to the balcony, grin still plastered on his face as he lights up a cigarette and waits for Subong to return. Knowing him, he won’t just buy a single can. He’ll get Namgyu a chilled can and a whole new twelve-pack and a strawberry Pig Bar. It peeves him a little to know that Subong will buy himself a chocolate Pig Bar, but whatever. At least Namgyu will get to have his 2:00 Diet Dr. Pepper after all. 

Fifteen minutes later, Namgyu hears the front door open. He ashes out his cigarette and darts inside to find Subong huffing through the front door, arms loaded with plastic shopping bags and Jelli yapping at his feet.

“Hyung,” Namgyu says dreamily, following Subong to the kitchen. He nearly jumps for joy when he sees the predicted twelve-pack, cold can, and ice cream bars, alongside a pack of Marlboro Reds. “You’re the best roommate in the world.”

Subong is, at the end of the day, simultaneously the best and worst roommate a guy could ask for. The worst, because he eats Namgyu’s leftovers and drinks his Diet Dr. Pepper without asking. His vapes leave the apartment constantly smelling like rancid blueberries. He’s always screaming at his computer, playing video games when Namgyu is trying to sleep. He refuses to watch One Piece with Namgyu, no matter how many times Namgyu begs him to. He never cleans his hair out of the drain after he showers. He’s recently gotten into the habit of leaving his freaky sex toys propped up on the bathroom sink after he washes them. He didn’t take it upon himself to tell Namgyu about the nature of his profession until they had already been living together for nearly two months.

Namgyu had the severe misfortune of learning about said profession eighteen months ago, when he stayed home sick from work one night and walked in on Subong rubbing one out in front of his camera. At least that time, the camera wasn’t facing the door. 

Namgyu would totally have moved out right then and there if it wasn’t for the fact that Subong is, unfortunately, the best roommate he could ask for. There’s no way he could afford to live in such a nice district if it weren’t for Subong’s jeonse. He wouldn’t have access to such a nice gym if he didn’t live in this building, and Subong is a very good gym buddy. Barring the shower and sex toy issues, he always cleans up after himself. He gets along well with Namgyu’s dog, even though Jelli hates most people. He keeps to himself for the most part, so Namgyu gets the luxury of not having to socialize constantly while still reaping the benefits of having a roommate. He uses the disgusting amount of disposable income he gets from his BangHub streams to buy Namgyu Diet Dr. Pepper, Pig Bars, and cigarettes whenever he does something to piss Namgyu off. 

He pisses Namgyu off frequently. Namgyu’s starting to have a Pavlovian response to getting angry. He craves sugar and nicotine whenever he feels his blood pressure rise.

“I know,” Subong says with a smirk, tossing Namgyu his ice cream bar. 

Namgyu narrows his eyes as he tears open the plastic. “You need to start locking your door.”

“ You need to stop barging into my room.”

“ You needa shtob drinkin’ ma Diuh Duh Peh-uh,” Namgyu mumbles out, holding the ice cream between his teeth as he cracks open his soda can. 

Subong snorts and pulls the ice cream from Namgyu’s mouth. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“You heard me,” Namgyu says, snatching his ice cream back. 

“Yeah, whatever. Chat says you’re hot, by the way.”

Namgyu rolls his eyes as he takes his drink, ice cream, and the pack of cigarettes back over to the couch. “Horny freaks.”

“Those horny freaks just paid for your little sweet treat,” Subong says, plopping himself down next to Namgyu as he takes a bite of his own ice cream. 

“Wouldn’t have had to if you kept your paws off my Dr. Pepper.”

“Aw, Namgyu, can’t you forgive me just this once?” Subong whines. “My tummy hurt and I needed carbonation.”

Ugh, he’s doing that thing where he pouts his lower lip out and makes his eyes all big and sad. Namgyu scowls and pushes his face away. “Poor you.”

Subong bats his hand off and leans in closer, hamming up the pitiful look on his face as he says, “Aren’t you going to ask if I feel better now?”

“I don’t care.”

Subong lets out a groan and throws his head down on Namgyu’s lap. “Why do you hate me?”

He’s such a nightmare. Namgyu suppresses the urge to revisit his dormant judo hobby and tomoe nage him off the couch. “Because you’re annoying.”

“Namgyu,” Subong moans, lower lip quivering as he pulls his face into a disturbing caricature of misery. “Stop being so mean. You’re making my tummy hurt again.”

“Ugh, fine,” Namgyu grunts. He puts his Dr. Pepper on the coffee table and rubs Subong’s stomach. “There, how’s that? Feel better now?”

Subong lets out a content sigh. “That’s so nice.”

No wonder Jelli likes him. She must think he’s a massive, weird puppy. He looks like a massive, weird puppy when he’s doing that annoying pouty thing with his face. It would almost be cute if he wasn’t eating his ice cream so disgustingly. Namgyu grimaces when some of the melted cream drips down Subong’s hand. 

Namgyu watches on in horror as Subong licks the ice cream off his wrist and sucks on the stick. Revolting. He looks up at Namgyu with an ice cream-stained smile and says, “I’m cured.”

“Why’d your stomach hurt anyway?”

The grin Subong offers him is far too wide for a man who was allegedly suffering from stomach ailments. “I hit 45,000 subscribers.”

Namgyu lifts his hand from Subong’s stomach. He’s such a liar. He doesn’t deserve to have his stomach rubbed. “So you were just excited? What the fuck is the matter with you?”

Subong scowls. “Tell me you’re proud of me.”

It is an impressive number. He’s only 2,000 subscribers away from being the top creator on BangHub. It’s still not a valid reason to drink Namgyu’s Dr. Pepper. 

“I’m very proud of you, hyung. Nice work with all the jerking off. Now stop stealing my Dr. Peppers.”

“You’re so mean,” Subong says with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m taking a shower. Don’t smoke before you go to bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Namgyu says as he unwraps the pack of cigarettes and takes one out.

Subong flicks Namgyu’s temple as he gets up off the couch. “I mean it. You won’t be able to sleep.”

Namgyu scowls at his retreating back, rubbing at his injured forehead and sipping at his Diet Dr. Pepper. He’s right. Namgyu refuses to give him the satisfaction, though. He takes his time out on the balcony, making sure to time his re-entry so he and Subong cross paths as he’s leaving the bathroom.

Namgyu smirks when he sees Subong’s nose crinkle at the smell. 

He ends up waking up at 6:00, but whatever. He’s not letting Subong have the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He just cuddles back up with Jelli, forcing himself to go back to sleep for another five and a half fours.

༄

Namgyu is a simple man. He likes Diet Dr. Pepper. He likes strawberry Pig Bars. He likes to smoke Marlboro Reds. He likes getting to freeload off his annoying roommate’s obnoxiously lucrative BangHub career. He also sometimes likes to watch his annoying roommate’s BangHub streams when he’s on his fifteen minute smoke break at the convenience store.

He’s far from proud of himself for it. Ashamed isn’t quite the word, because if anyone should be ashamed, it’s Subong. The streams are so low effort. All he does is sit in his room, talk to the chat about boring shit for half an hour, and then jerk himself off.

Sometimes he doesn’t even do that . Sometimes he just sits around in his boxers playing Valorant for an hour and answering horny questions from the chat. It’s hardly the most entertaining porn on the market, and yet he’s the second most popular creator on the site. 

It’s fucking mind-boggling. It’s purely a scientific fascination that keeps Namgyu watching these streams. He wants to understand why people are so drawn to Subong. He’s objectively hot, sure, but so is everyone on BangHub. He’s just one of thousands of good-looking people rubbing one out on camera. 

But every month, he’s raking in millions of won. It’s bizarre. Namgyu’s sure not going to complain when he’s reaping the benefits, but still. It’s incredibly strange. 

Because, seriously, he’s barely doing anything . Namgyu takes his smoke break at 23:30, so he always joins the stream half an hour late, but he nearly always joins before any action has transpired. Sometimes action never does transpire. It’s for the best, really, since it’s probably not great that Namgyu is technically watching porn on the clock, but it still leaves him mystified and, strangely, kind of angry. 

He’s not gonna examine that one too much. It’s probably just resentment. Subong makes way more money than he knows what to do with, and Namgyu still has to work a shitty minimum wage job to pay his half of the bills.

Just as predicted, Subong is still in his boxers, just chatting away as he twirls around in his gaming chair and takes rips from his stupid blueberry vape. Namgyu hunches down to a squat in the alleyway behind the convenience store and lights up a cigarette as he watches Subong grin at something someone wrote in the chat. 

“Sure, I can play for you,” Subong says as he lounges back in his gaming chair. “Any requests?”

Predictably, the chat blows up, all the horny gooners creaming themselves at the chance to hear Thanos the Great play the guitar poorly. And he does—poorly. Namgyu’s gotten many headaches over the past twenty months from hearing Subong clunk out inaccurate chords on his guitar. Namgyu turns down the volume on his airpods in preparation for the incoming assault on his eardrums.

It sounds just as terrible on his phone as it does in person. If Namgyu hadn’t heard Subong bastardize “Love Scenario” by Ikon a trillion times, he wouldn’t even recognize the song. The chat is absolutely eating it up. The tip box in the corner of the screen is filling up with tokens.

Subong hasn’t even whipped it out and he’s still making buttloads of money. Namgyu sucks angrily at his cigarette. 

“Thanks for the tips,” Subong says with a wink as he finishes out the last off-tune note. “Wanna see a different kind of tip?”

He’s just so ridiculous. Why do people like this? Namgyu scowls at his screen as Subong unceremoniously pulls his dick out of his boxers. 

To be fair, his dick is pretty big. But there are hundreds of big dicks on BangHub. Why Subong’s dick is the second most popular dick is beyond Namgyu’s comprehension. 

At least the first most popular dick is attached to a guy who puts real effort into his production quality. MG Groin’s got multiple high-end cameras, a backdrop, and a whole girlfriend who makes frequent appearances in his streams. All Subong has is himself, his gaming chair, and his collection of fleshlights, strokers, and the one uncannily realistic-looking throat pocket he bought six months ago.

Every time Namgyu sees that monstrosity on the bathroom counter, he genuinely considers giving up the fancy apartment and just moving back in with his parents. Jelli hates Namgyu’s parents, so he probably won’t actually do it, but he does consider it.

“Hah, yeah,” Subong says with a chuckle as he squirts some lube onto the palm of his hand and reads over the chat. “He might be watching tonight. You here, roommate? Say hi to everyone.”

Namgyu lets out a sigh and holds the cigarette between his teeth as he types.

NGK_666: hey hyung

“How’s work today?” Subong asks as he wraps his hand around his dick. 

NGK_666: don’t talk to me while you’re jerking off

“Ha! Don’t watch me jerk off while you’re at work, freak! I bet this is, like, a crime. I could get you arrested.”

Subong looks far too delighted by the idea of it. 

NGK_666: stop getting off to the idea of me being in jail

“I’ll get off to whatever I want to get off to,” Subong says as he strokes himself. “I bet you look hot in a prison uniform.”

This sort of ridiculous, performative banter wasn’t all that bad when Subong’s fans didn’t know what Namgyu looks like. Now, they do, and the chat is getting far too excited about it. 

The amount of messages requesting that Namgyu make another guest appearance is alarming. It’s been over a week since Namgyu walked in on Subong’s stream and they’re still making a big production out of it. It’s not like they even saw all that much of him. He was only onscreen for a few seconds before he shut the door. But still, he’s seeing far too many “bring back the twink with the long hair” messages. 

NGK_666: im not a twink

“You’re so totally a twink,” Subong huffs out. 

Namgyu rolls his eyes. Absolutely insane that his life has come to this. Two years ago, he would have been horrified at the idea of someone pretending to flirt with him as they jerked off on camera. Now, he’s so used to it, it’s like watching the morning news. Truly insane. Namgyu takes a long pull from his cigarette and sighs. 

“Guys, isn’t he a twink?”

Namgyu groans at the wall of yes’s filling up the chat. Groans louder when he sees one particular user request he gives Subong a blowjob. It wouldn’t be all that bad if he was still just a nebulous concept of a roommate, existing as a faceless entity Subong occasionally flirts with for the sake of getting his audience’s rocks off. Now, the audience knows what his mouth looks like. They’re picturing his mouth on Subong’s dick. 

The cigarette in his mouth suddenly feels far too phallic. Namgyu tosses it on the concrete and stubs it out with the heel of his sneaker. 

Surely this is the line that should not be crossed. It’s one thing to watch his roommate jerk off when said roommate is just shooting him the occasional flirty comment for the sake of his audience. It’s something entirely different when that audience knows what he looks like and is making specific horny requests. This is far too gay. This whole thing has been far too gay. Namgyu really should not be watching these streams. 

“Huh, I don’t know,” Subong says, eyes narrowing at the chat as his hand picks up speed. “Roommate, if you were gay, would you be a top or a bottom?”

The chat floods with comments before Namgyu even has a chance to ponder the question. Not that he would ponder it. But still, it’s alarming to see so many people decide that he must be a bottom based off of a mere few seconds of seeing his face.

Namgyu clicks out of BangHub and stares at the brick wall in front of him, contemplating all the poor decisions he’s made in life that brought him to this point.

He supposes he should have known it was all too good to be true when Subong said he wouldn’t have to pay anything aside from his half of the bills on the apartment. It wasn’t like they even really knew each other all that well when the idea of becoming roommates came up. They just chatted a bit every time Subong came into the convenience store for his midnight chocolate Pig Bar fix. Namgyu should’ve asked where all that money Subong spent on his jeonse came from. He didn’t, though. He was far too distracted by how perfect it all seemed to be. 

Subong was sick of living alone, Namgyu was sick of living with his parents. They both like dogs. They both like tattoos. They both like working out. They both hate interacting with people more than strictly necessary. It seemed totally rational that they move in together, especially when Subong met Jelli for the first time and didn’t get immediately mauled. Namgyu should’ve suspected something was up when Subong seemed so happy to learn that Namgyu consistently works the night shift from 18:00 to 2:00. 

Well, this is all on him. It’s not like his name is on the lease. He could move out at any time. He could’ve told Subong to never bring up his career again after that night eighteen months ago. Hell, he could’ve told Subong ‘no’ when he asked if Namgyu was down to monitor his chat for him last year. He could’ve stopped watching the streams when Subong hired a team of actual mods to do the job themselves three weeks later. He could’ve told Subong not to flirt with him when his audience figured out he no longer lives alone.

He didn’t, though, so here he is, being called a twink and a bottom by hundreds of horny weirdos on the internet. His life is a nightmare. 

At least he only has to pay one half of the bills on their apartment. 450,000 won a month is pretty fucking good for a highrise in Samseong-dong.

The thought keeps him from being too miffed about the whole thing. His life is very nice because of Subong’s career. Jelli is way happier here than she ever was when they lived with Namgyu’s parents. If the price of Jelli’s happiness is Namgyu having to play a minor role in Subong’s fans’ gooning material, then fine. It’s a cross Namgyu will just have to bear.

༄

There are three cans of Diet Dr. Pepper chilling in the fridge. That’s two more than Namgyu put in there before he left for work. The leftover samgyeopsal he put into tupperware hasn’t been stolen, either. All six pieces of pork are still intact. It’s extremely suspicious. 

Subong is up to something, and Namgyu has the sneaking suspicion he knows what it is. Subong’s been talking to him directly during his streams more often for the past two weeks. It has not escaped Namgyu’s notice that the frequency of these interactions seems to coincide with Subong’s view count increasing. 

“No,” Namgyu says when he sees Subong poke his head out from his bedroom. 

Subong grins and shuffles his way into the kitchen. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask you yet.”

Namgyu definitely knows. Subong looks far too devious for this to be a normal conversation. Namgyu takes one of the three cans out of the fridge, cracking it open and taking a long gulp. He sighs, lets out a burp, and says, “I’m not going on your stream.”

“First of all, eew,” Subong says with a grimace, waving his hand in front of Namgyu’s face. “Second of all, please?”

Namgyu takes another sip and lets out another burp, deliberate this time, into Subong’s face. 

“Stop being nasty.”

“ You stop being stupid,” Namgyu retorts. “You don’t even need the extra money.”

Subong lets out a whine and grabs a Diet Dr. Pepper from the fridge. He pulls the tab open before Namgyu gets the chance to stop him. “It’s not about money, Namgyu. It’s about being the top streamer.”

“Stop stealing my Dr. Peppers.”

Subong smirks and gulps down half the can. “I paid for them,” he says, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. “So I can drink them if I want.”

“I hate you.”

Subong downs the rest of the can. “I love you too.”

“Are your ears failing you in your old age? I said I hate you.”

“Wait, did you hear that?” Subong asks, eyes going wide as grabs Namgyu’s face and pinches his cheeks together between his fingers.

Namgyu groans. “No, don’t—”

It’s far from unexpected when Subong pulls him closer and burps in his face. It’s far from unwarranted. It still pisses Namgyu off. 

“I’m not jerking you off,” Namgyu says when he wheedles his way out of Subong’s grip. 

“You don’t need to jerk me off! They just want to see your face.”

“Come on, Jelli,” Namgyu says with a sigh, picking her up and taking her to his room. It’s way too late at night to be having such a dumb conversation. He’s got nine and a half hours of sleep to catch up on. 

To his profound annoyance, Subong follows him.

“Stay out of my room,” Namgyu snaps, trying to squeeze himself and Jelli past his door without letting Subong inside. He’s unsuccessful. The punch he delivers to Subong’ arm is also unsuccessful. Subong just pouts as he rubs the spot Namgyu punched and scurries past the door.

Namgyu glares as he makes himself far too comfortable on his bed. “You really care about all this ranking bullshit, huh?”

It’s profoundly annoying when Jelli hops up on the bed, nestling herself into Subong’s arms. She’s such a traitor. 

“Of course I care,” Subong says, scratching at Jelli’s head and leaning back against Namgyu’s pillows. “I’m only 1,000 subscribers behind MG Groin now. If you’re on my stream, I’ll beat him in no time.”

He’s got that determined look on his face that Namgyu just knows means this conversation won’t be easy to end. Clearly, he’s not going to sleep any time soon. He resigns himself to his fate and pulls the hair tie out of his hair, sighing as he scrubs the past eight hours of standing behind a counter and dealing with annoying customers from his scalp. “Why don’t you just ask some chick to join you?”

“The viewers don’t want some chick,” Subong says insistently. “And you know I don’t bring other people on my streams.”

This is so fucking ridiculous. Namgyu lets out a deep sigh as he takes off his socks and throws them into his laundry hamper. “You're aware I’m a person, aren't you?”

“Not a random person. You already live here, so it’s not like you’re gonna leak my address or whatever.”

A somewhat valid point. “Okay. So what, then? I just sit there while you jack it?”

“Well, maybe,” Subong says. He pauses, eyes narrowed in thought before he gets that dumb, excited puppy look on his face and asks, “Could I jack you off?”

Namgyu barks out a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Please? It’s not like we haven’t done gay shit together already.”

Namgyu blinks at him incredulously. “A handjob is a little gayer than pretending to flirt online.”

“Dude, come on,” Subong whines. “My fans are obsessed with you. I’ll split the money with you fifty-fifty.”

“I don’t need money,” Namgyu says as he shrugs off his work polo and digs around in his dresser for a t-shirt.

“I’ll buy you as much Dr. Pepper as you want.”

Namgyu smirks as he pulls off his pants. “You already buy me all the Dr. Pepper I want.”

Subong groans and squirms around on Namgyu’s bed. It makes Jelli let out a soft huff of displeasure before she hops off and pads out to the living room. Namgyu’s gearing up to yell at him for disturbing his dog, but then Subong says, “What if I promise to do the dishes for a month?”

That gets Namgyu to pause. He stares at Subong intently, t-shirt clutched in his hand. “All of them?”

Subong nods resolutely. “All of them.”

It’s a tempting offer. As much as Namgyu likes cooking, having to do the dishes afterwards sucks. And getting jerked off by Subong one time wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right? It’s not like they have to make eye contact or anything. 

And, honestly, it’s not like Namgyu’s got any good reason not to be on Subong’s stream. The viewers already know what his face looks like. They’ve already spent the past two weeks speculating on his hypothetical gay sex preferences. He’s got no dignity left. He hasn’t had dignity in twenty months. He’s seen Subong’s balls more often than his own at this point. 

“Two months,” Namgyu says after a moment.

Subong scoffs. “Just for a single handjob? One month.”

“Two months,” Namgyu says. “And you have to watch One Piece with me.”

“ One Piece is too long!”

Namgyu points a finger at him, face fixed in a resolute scowl. “Two months. Three seasons minimum. Those are my terms.”

Subong sits up against his headboard, pursing his lips in thought. “Fine, two months. But I’m only watching one season.”

“Two seasons.”

“Fine! Two months, two seasons, but that’s it! Do we have a deal?”

Fuck it. Namgyu’s already stripped down to his boxers in front of Subong at 2:00 in the morning. Namgyu has seen Subong ejaculate more times than he cares to think about. Subong literally pays for Namgyu’s subscription to his own BangHub channel. They have never once had anything even close to resembling a normal, functional roommate relationship. One handjob isn’t the end of the world.

“Fine,” Namgyu says. “I’ll do it.”

Subong lets out a loud gasp and tumbles off the bed, scooping Namgyu up in his arms. “Fuck yes! I’m gonna be BangHub’s top streamer!”

Namgyu can’t help but feed off his excitement a little bit. He already makes so much money every month. If he’s the top streamer, they’re gonna really be rolling in some serious dough. Maybe Namgyu can get Jelli enrolled in some fancy puppy academy so she finally stops attacking every person she sees. Shit, maybe he can finally quit his dumbass job at the convenience store and stay home with Jelli full-time.

“Fuck yeah, hyung,” Namgyu says. “Now put me down. I want to go to bed.”

Subong beams and puts him back on the ground. “I love you so much. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Namgyu chuckles, pushing Subong’s hands away from his waist. “Let me go to sleep.”

Subong grabs his cheeks and plants a gross, wet kiss to his forehead. “Good night! Don’t smoke before bed.”

Namgyu rolls his eyes. “Fine. Good night.”

With that, Subong scurries out of the room, practically jumping with excitement as he warbles out unintelligible exclamations about follower counts and rankings. Namgyu doesn’t miss the burst of blueberry-scented vapor before he shuts his bedroom door. He’s such a hypocrite. Namgyu grins as he wipes the spit from his forehead and dresses for bed. 

Being unemployed sounds like such a dream. He can fully dedicate himself to Jelli and One Piece and never speak to another living person ever again. He’d have to speak to Subong occasionally, he guesses, but that’s fine. It’s worth it. He scoops Jelli up from the couch and brings her to bed. 

༄

Namgyu wakes up at 11:30 with a mental clarity that he did not possess seven and a half hours prior. 

“Hyung,” Namgyu says, banging on Subong’s door extra loudly so he can be heard over Subong’s video game. “Open up!”

No response. Subong’s busy screaming at whatever is happening in Valorant. Namgyu taps his foot impatiently, feeling the impending sense of doom grow stronger with every passing moment. 

There’s no chance in hell he can actually go through with this. Sure, Subong might be totally chill with thousands of people seeing his dick, but Namgyu isn’t. A grand total of nine girls have seen his dick, and that was only one person at a time. He’s never had such an expansive audience. He definitely won’t be able to get hard with all the pressure.

Shit, he’s not going to be able to get hard regardless. Subong’s going to be the one touching his dick. Subong, who burps like a heathen and never cleans his nasty pubes out of the shower drain. Who owns a grotesquely realistic throat pocket that Namgyu just knows is sitting on their bathroom counter right now. Who is the owner of a penis, which, last time Namgyu did some self-reflecting, is very much not his preference. 

Namgyu shudders. Some sort of demonic spirit must have possessed him last night, because there’s no other explanation for him thinking any of this is chill. 

“Hyung!” he shouts, rapping his knuckles harder on the door.

“Gah!”

Hardly an intelligible response. Namgyu huffs out an angry breath and throws the door open. 

Subong whips around in his gaming chair and tugs off his headphones with a scowl. “You made me lose, man! What the fuck?”

“Shut up. I’m not going to stream with you.”

The scowl drops from Subong’s face, quickly being replaced by a wide-eyed pout. “Aw, what? Why?”

“I’m not gay,” Namgyu says. 

Subong scrunches his face up in confusion. “Yeah, so?”

“ So ,” Namgyu says, dropping himself down on Subong’s bed and fixing him with a glare, “I can’t do it. I won’t get hard.”

Subong lets out a snort and swivels around in his chair to fully face Namgyu. “ That’s what you’re all worked up about? Not getting hard?”

“Duh.”

Subong rolls his eyes. “Dude, it’s just a handjob. Everyone gets hard when someone’s touching their dick.”

“Not when it’s you ,” Namgyu says with a grimace. 

“Fuck you, I’m sexy,” Subong says, taking a rip from his vape.

Namgyu scrunches his nose at the overpowering scent of blueberries filling the room. “You’re disgusting, is what you are.”

Subong scoffs in offense. “I’ll have you know 45,972 people think I’m sexy.”

“Why do you have your exact stats memorized?”

Subong lifts himself up from his chair, eyebrows drawn together in indignance. “Because I’m so close! If I break 47,000, I’ll be number one.” He looms over Namgyu, eyes far too intense for Namgyu not to squirm. “I will watch literally every single season of One Piece with you if you help me beat out MG Groin.”

Namgyu nearly gasps from the shock of it. “Do you mean that?”

Subong’s face goes serious as he leans in closer and nods. “Absolutely. All 1,000 episodes.”

“It’s 1,138,” Namgyu says breathlessly. This may very well be the best day of his life. He can totally get hard during Subong’s stream. All he needs to do is think about watching all those episodes with a captive audience. A real one. Yapping on Discord with strangers and monologuing at Jelli just isn’t the same.

“Every single episode,” Subong says. “I swear to god.”

Namgyu can feel tears prickling in his eyes from joy. He can just see it now—hours on the couch, all the Diet Dr. Pepper his heart can desire, someone there to finally listen to him rant. It’s too good to be true. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Don’t flake out on me,” Subong says, jabbing an accusatory finger at Namgyu’s chest. 

Like Namgyu could flake out when he’s got such a beautiful future ahead of him. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Pinky swear,” Subong commands, holding up his pinky. 

Namgyu snorts. “You’re such a toddler.”

“Fuck you. Pinky swear, bitch.”

“God, fine ,” Namgyu groans, hooking his pinky with Subong’s. “Are you happy?”

Subong grins and squeezes their pinkies together. “Very. Can we do it on Friday?”

Friday is two days away. That’s extremely soon. Namgyu balks and asks, “Why?”

“Fridays are the highest traffic days. It has to be a Friday.”

“Can’t we do it next week?”

“You don’t have Friday off next week.”

Crap, why does Subong have to be so intimately familiar with his work schedule? Though, to be fair, Namgyu is just as intimately familiar with his work schedule. Namgyu sighs and says, “Fine, we can do it on Friday.”

“Perfect,” Subong says, shaking Namgyu’s pinky with his own. “Don’t flake out on me.”

“I won’t flake.”

Subong grins and sits back down in his gaming chair. “If you flake, no One Piece ,” he says as he puts his headphones back on and reopens Valorant.

“Can’t we watch an episode now?”

“Nope. Not until I hit 47,000.”

“I hate you,” Namgyu says, stomping his way out of Subong’s room. 

Subong doesn’t look away from his screen when he says, “Love you too, bitch.”

༄

Namgyu tries not to think about it too much on Wednesday. If he thinks about it too much, he’ll chicken out, and then Subong won’t watch One Piece with him. Now that the possibility exists in his mind, he can’t let that go. He’s been trying to get Subong to watch One Piece with him for nearly two years. 

He occupies his mind with One Piece when they go to the gym together that afternoon. The normalcy helps—Subong’s acting just the same as he always does as he spots for Namgyu at the weight bench. Namgyu’s definitely acting the same too. So maybe he makes a point of angling his hips as far away from Subong’s face as possible when it’s his turn to do the spotting. He’s not thinking about it. He’s thinking about One Piece.

He’s still thinking about One Piece when he goes to work. That, and the leftover risotto he put next to a Diet Dr. Pepper in the fridge before he left. Soon enough, Namgyu won’t have to wash the dishes when he cooks. He’s gonna be able to make super complex meals that use up a billion pans, and he won’t have to worry about cleaning up the mess after. This is so ideal. 

It gets him through his shift. It gets him through Wednesday night, especially when he comes home to find Subong already asleep, and his Dr. Pepper and leftover risotto undisturbed in the fridge. It pisses him off a little that Jelli’s sleeping in Subong’s room, but fine. She’s happy, and Namgyu’s drinking cold Dr. Pepper and eating risotto. It gets him through the night. It gets him through Thursday, too. 

That, and weed. Namgyu is a very simple man. He’d do a lot for One Piece , Diet Dr. Pepper, and Jelli’s happiness. There’s very little he can’t rationalize if he’s high while he’s thinking about it. 

Namgyu’s already starting to feel a little buzzed from the joint he just lit up as he crouches in the alleyway during his break and pulls up Subong’s stream. 

It’s another Valorant night. He’s sitting in his gaming chair, clicking away at his keyboard and occasionally shooting glances at the chat. 

“Roommate, you here tonight?” Subong asks.

NGK_666: yup

Subong grins and says, “Everyone say hi to my roommate!”

The influx of messages is alarming. Namgyu’s too busy thinking about One Piece , Dr. Pepper, and Jelli’s enrollment into a fancy puppy academy to get worked up about it. Maybe he can finally start taking her out in public once she stops trying to bite everyone she sees. Maybe he can dress her up as Tony Tony Chopper and take her to Comic World. She would look so cute.

“The dakgalbi you made was really good, by the way,” Subong says as he pats his exposed stomach. “Extra hot. Just like you.”

Ordinarily, it would piss Namgyu off that Subong ate his leftovers. Not tonight, though. He’s far too busy thinking about how he’s going to convince Subong to start playing Bounty Rush once he’s got him hooked on One Piece . It’s going to be great. Besides, he made too much dakgalbi anyway. He wouldn’t be able to finish it all before it goes bad, and it’s too spicy to feed the scraps to Jelli. 

NGK_666: glad you enjoyed it thief

“Thief, huh? Then why’d you make so much? It’s okay to admit you like cooking for me.”

Of course the chat latches onto that and runs with it. Whatever. At least Subong’s gonna be the one cleaning up the dishes after Namgyu cooks for two whole months. He’ll be watching One Piece for a thousand years if Namgyu has any say in the matter.

“I know, I know,” Subong giggles at the chat. “Maybe you’ll get to see him again one of these days.”

Predictably, that’s got the chat blowing up. At this point, Namgyu’s getting numb to all the explicit requests that pour in. Lots of requests for blowjobs, just like there always seems to be whenever Namgyu is brought up. Several people expressing a keen interest in seeing Subong finger him, which has been rising in frequency since the first time someone suggested it five days ago. It’s slightly annoying that Subong’s fans have come to some kind of collective conclusion that he’d be the bottom in their hypothetical gay relationship, but whatever. If being a bottom in these anonymous perverts’ brains is what it takes for him to rewatch twenty-one seasons of One Piece with someone he can nerd out at, then sure. Who cares? Definitely not Namgyu. He takes a pull from his joint and relishes in the calm that overtakes him. He totally doesn’t care. The only things he cares about on the mortal plane are One Piece , Diet Dr. Pepper, and his dog.

Subong snorts and leans in closer to his screen. “Don’t get too excited, guys. I didn’t say he’s coming on.” He shoots a smirk up to the camera. “I also didn’t say he isn’t . Guess you gotta tune in tomorrow to find out.”

The ridiculous wink Subong gives to the camera makes Namgyu laugh. It’s just so stupid. This whole thing is so dumb, it’s kind of easy to think of it as just a big joke. Namgyu’s still chuckling as he types out a message. 

NGK_666: guess we’ll see ;)

That’ll get all these horny freaks going, he thinks to himself with a satisfied huff. If all the messages that pour in after are anything to go off of, Subong will hit 47,000 tomorrow night without a hitch. He’s already getting more viewers. Namgyu will be watching One Piece with him in no time.

“Aw, you really wanna hear me play guitar again?” Subong coos at the chat. “If you insist.”

There’s no way Namgyu is sticking around for that. He closes out of BangHub and leans back against the wall as he finishes his joint. 

He grins, drumming his fingers excitedly on his knee. Subong’s totally going to love One Piece once they start watching it. Maybe Namgyu can convince him to do some cosplay with him. That would be fucking sick. 

༄

Namgyu’s not grinning anymore on Friday morning. He wakes up sober and nervous. He’s going to have to whip his dick out on camera at 23:00 tonight. That’s only eleven and a half hours away. 

It’s simultaneously too much and too little time. Those are hours where he’s got nothing to do but agonize over this. Those hours could just fly by. The thought has him letting out a deep groan as he gets out of bed and takes Jelli out for a walk. 

His fingers are shaking a little as he lights up a cigarette. Shit, what if he really can’t get hard? Is that embarrassing? It probably is. Thousands of people are gonna see him with a limp dick, and he’s very much a grower, not a shower. His dick is going to look pathetic in comparison to Subong’s. 

He shudders as he takes a slow drag. The nicotine buzz is doing very little to calm his nerves, because now he’s thinking about Subong’s stupid massive dick.

Oh god, is Subong’s dick going to be out? It probably will be. His subscribers don’t pay all that money every month just to see him with his pants on two nights in a row. 

The cigarette is feeling too phallic again. Namgyu flicks it on the sidewalk.

Nope, Namgyu’s too nervous to not have both of his hands occupied. He pinches Jelli’s leash under his elbow and fishes his pack out of the pocket of his sweatpants. The cigarette looks puny between his fingers as he lights it. Namgyu shudders again.

Subong has never seen his dick. What if he laughs at it? Namgyu can’t bear to have that humiliation in front of all those people. 

Jelli looks back at him as they walk. There’s something almost knowing about the look in her little black eyes. She’s seen him get dressed plenty of times. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Namgyu says with a grimace.

She lets out a tiny snort as she side-eyes him. It feels like a sign.

Namgyu makes it a third of the way through his second cigarette before he stomps it out and leads Jelli back to the apartment.

“Hyung,” Namgyu shouts over the sounds of Valorant as he bangs his fist on Subong’s door. “Open up!”

“I’m busy! What do you want?”

Namgyu lets out a pained moan and thumps his head on the door. “Just let me in!”

“Like you need an invitation, bitch. You’re always barging in here uninvited.”

Now is not the time for this. Namgyu flings open the door and stomps over to Subong. “Stop playing your game for a second.”

Subong glances up at him before returning his eyes to the screen. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“Stop being in the middle of something. I need to show you my dick.”

“Dude, I’m on voice chat,” Subong snorts. “They can hear you.”

“Turn off your microphone!” Namgyu groans, face burning red. Fucking goddamn Subong and his dumbass video game. Namgyu hates both him and himself so much right now.

“Yeah, that was Namgyu,” Subong chuckles into his headset. “Gotta go, sorry.”

Namgyu shoots back in horror. “Was that Semi? Did she hear what I said?”

“Yup. Gyeongsu and Minsu too,” Subong says before clicking away from his game and pulling off his headphones. He picks up his vape, breathing grossly sweet blueberry scent into Namgyu’s face. “So you want to show me your dick?”

Namgyu deeply regrets everything he’s ever done in his life. But he’s going to really regret it if Subong laughs at his dick on camera, so he swallows back the humiliation and says, “Yeah.”

“Cool, alright. Whip it out then.”

What, just like that? No preamble or anything? Though, Namgyu supposes, it would be far more awkward if they did make this into a whole big thing. He takes a deep breath and pulls the waistband of his sweatpants down. 

Subong stares for a moment before nodding his head and saying, “Okay.”

Namgyu flinches. “What do you mean, okay?”

“I mean, okay?” Subong says, eyebrows pulling up in confusion. “I’ve seen it now. Can I get back to my game?”

Namgyu’s mouth flops open. “Well, I mean- what do you think?”

“What do I think? I think it’s a penis.”

“Okay?” Namgyu says, feeling his face burning a deeper shade of red. “But, like, is it good? Will the viewers be, like, I don’t know. Okay with it?”

“Namgyu, they’re horny gooners on the internet. They’ll be okay with any dick they see.”

It is the opposite of reassuring. Namgyu can just feel himself getting more and more flustered as he scrambles to pull his pants back up. “But is it weird looking? Or, like, too small?”

“You have a beautiful penis, Namgyu.”

Namgyu scowls and smacks the side of his big, stupid head. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole.”

Subong’s expression goes soft. Namgyu can’t decide if that’s better or worse than the facetious look he had on before. Worse, probably. Namgyu can tell his own face must look like a fire hydrant.

“Are you nervous?” Subong asks. “We don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to.”

Namgyu deflates and sits down on Subong’s bed. “No, it’s fine. I just don’t want to get made fun of.”

“No one is going to make fun of you,” Subong says, getting up from his chair to sit down next to Namgyu. He flings an arm over Namgyu’s shoulder. “Seriously, you’ve got a great dick. Good length, respectable girth. Your pubes could use some work, but that’s not a big deal. Your balls are very nice, too.”

Namgyu really has no one to blame but himself for this, but he still shudders from the horror. “What’s wrong with my pubes?”

“Nothing. They could just use a little trim, is all.”

If Namgyu had access to a time machine, he would visit the version of himself from eighteen months ago that allowed him and Subong to develop such a casual relationship around discussing their genitalia and throttle him. He doesn’t, though, so he nods, stands up, and says, “We never had this conversation. Goodbye.”

“If you need help shaving down there, just let me know,” Subong says as Namgyu leaves the room. 

The horror. Namgyu tries to erase those words from his memory as he goes to the bathroom and turns on the shower. 

༄

Namgyu is, on a typical day, a fairly confident person. He likes the way he looks. He takes care of himself, technically. He’s probably a mess internally from all the aspartame, nicotine, and cannabis, but externally, he looks put together. 

He goes to the same salon once every three months to get his hair trimmed. He uses sunscreen and chapstick regularly. He works out in his apartment building’s gym twice a week. He technically exercises daily, if Jelli’s walks count. He’s still pretty toned from doing judo for three years. Maybe not as toned as he was before, but whatever. He looks fine. None of his ex-girlfriends seemed to have any complaints about his appearance. He’s been called handsome enough times to believe it’s true. 

So, there is absolutely no justification for how long he spends getting ready for the stream. It’s not like all the work he’s doing will even matter. Subong’s the one the audience cares about, so there is no reason whatsoever for him to be sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor, painstakingly filling in the sparse gaps in his eyebrows with a pencil he nicked from the convenience store. No reason for him to be covering his freckles with BB cream that he also nicked from the convenience store. Absolutely no justifiable reason for him to be frying his hair with a straightener he also nicked from the convenience store. 

Truly, honestly, there is no reason on god’s green hell for him to have shaved his whole crotch area. That, to be fair, he can blame on not knowing how to use Subong’s electric razor and refusing to ask Subong for help changing out the guards. It’s still utterly humiliating, though, because Subong is going to see all this bullshit he’s doing. The viewers won’t know he spent far too long working on his appearance, but Subong will. 

Namgyu lets out a groan and runs his fingers through his hair in an effort to mess it back up. This was such a stupid idea.

Jelli lets out a tiny arf as she looks at Namgyu with her big, judgmental eyes. She’s definitely calling Namgyu stupid. He’s got no grounds to disagree.

“Namgyuuuuu,” Subong calls out, knocking on the door. “You ready?”

What the literal actual fuck, of course Namgyu isn’t ready. It’s only 21:00. They’re not starting for another two hours. Namgyu frantically pushes his mirror and straightener under his bed and rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Stop judging me,” he whispers as Jelli rolls around on the floor, staring at him. She lets out a yip in response. She’s totally judging him.

“What’s burning?”

Fuck, he forgot to unplug the straightener. Namgyu quickly pulls the plug out of the wall, grimacing at the scent of scorching carpet. “I lit a candle.”

“Oh, sexy! Setting the mood already, are we?”

This is terrible. Namgyu’s got fucking makeup on and he’s completely pubeless. No wonder all Subong’s fans have decided he’s a twink. There’s little he can do about the pubes at this point, so he just aggressively scrubs his hands over his face. 

“Are you decent? Can I come in?”

Namgyu feels a spike of panic as he digs his mirror back out from under his bed and inspects his face. He wipes a stray smear of pencil from under his eyebrow before shoving the mirror back down and saying, “Yup!”

His voice comes out alarmingly high. This is so terrible. 

“Sup?” Subong greets as he pulls open the door and sits down on the ground across from Namgyu. He scoops up Jelli in his arms, grinning when she immediately starts licking his face. She’s such a traitor.

Namgyu glares at her as he says, “Sup.”

“You look cute. Did you do your hair?”

“No,” Namgyu shoots out with a scowl. “I thought we still had two hours.”

“Yeah,” Subong shrugs, still grinning. “We gotta talk logistics first.”

Jesus Christ, the logistics of a handjob. This is the worst. Namgyu tries not to look too agonized over it when he asks, “Like what?”

“Well, a couple things. Like, what should I call you on the stream?”

Namgyu blanks for a moment. “What?”

“I mean, what do you want your alias to be?” Subong’s eyes go bright as he sits up straight and says excitedly, “We can give you a Marvel alias too! Do you want to be Loki?”

“Eew, no,” Namgyu says with a shudder. 

Subong laughs and shares a look with Jelli. “What do you think, baby?”

She lets out a snort. 

“She said she likes Loki.”

Namgyu scowls at him.

“Fine, then,” Subong chuckles. “What do you want to be called?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

This is totally the kind of thing Namgyu should have thought about. It’s a shame that the only things he’s been able to think about are Dr. Pepper, Monkey D. Luffy, and the unlikely but still totally possible chance that Subong will laugh at his dick on camera. 

“Hmm, how about Iso?” Subong offers up. 

“Like your Valorant guy? No.”

“What!” Subong bleats out. “He’s so cool though! He’s an assassin.”

“How about you just keep calling me your roommate, huh? I feel like trying to remember an alias is gonna make this too weird.”

He’s kind of expecting Subong to press him on it, so it comes as a surprise when Subong offers him an easy smile and says, “Sure, cool. Whatever you’re comfortable with. So you wanna just keep calling me hyung then?”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not calling you Thanos the Great.”

Subong chuckles and says, “Yeah, I figured. So what about your face? Do you want it to be off camera?”

Namgyu shrugs. “Nah, they already know what I look like.”

“Are you sure? The last time they saw you, it was only for a second. And it was from a distance.”

Frankly, at this point, it’s not Namgyu’s face being visible that’s his concern. There’s no getting around showing his dick, though. “I don’t care if they see my face.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Subong says. “So what about position? How do you wanna do this thing?”

“Position?” Namgyu echoes warily. “I thought this was just a handjob.”

Subong’s smile widens. “Yeah, but how do you want me to jerk you off? Like, do you want me in front of you, or behind you, or do you wanna be, like, laying down?”

God, Namgyu doesn’t even want a handjob in the first place. He shudders and says, “How do you want to do it?”

Subong doesn’t respond right away. He puts Jelli down and leans forward with his elbows propped on his knees. His face is way too close to Namgyu’s and far too serious when he says, “You still look nervous. Let’s just not do this, okay?”

What? What the fuck? Namgyu blinks and darts back. He can’t give up on his hopes and dreams of One Piece . Jelli needs to go to expensive puppy school if there’s any hope of debuting her in Tony Tony Chopper cosplay. Namgyu’s gotten far too excited about the notion of not doing dishes. He can’t have that snatched away from him in the eleventh hour. “No, I’m still down.”

Subong shoots him a pout. “No, you’re not. You’re freaking out.”

Crap, this is awful. All the plans he had of trying to convince Subong to dye his hair green for his Zoro cosplay are flying out the window. All the discussions about power scaling that he was looking forward to are slipping from his grasp. “I’m not freaking out.”

“Hey,” Subong says softly, scooting forward to wrap his arm around Namgyu’s shoulders. “I’ll still watch One Piece with you. I’m sorry for making you feel like you have to do this.”

Fuck, why does Subong have to be acting all sweet? It just makes Namgyu feel horrendously bad for him. Despite how much of a doofus he is, he’s really serious about this BangHub thing. He’s been at it for almost six years. He cares a lot about his career. Getting that top ranking would mean so much to him, and Namgyu can’t help but feel like he owes him the favor. 

Because, shit, Subong kind of does everything for him. He’s the one who paid for this apartment. He buys Namgyu ice cream, soda, and cigarettes when he’s in a bad mood. He holds Namgyu’s hand when he gets tattoos because he knows how bad Namgyu is at dealing with pain. He takes care of Jelli when Namgyu’s at work. He’s a very good roommate. Shit, he’s a very good hyung, and Namgyu made his hyung a promise. A very gay one, but a promise nonetheless.

“I’m good with doing it,” Namgyu says, voice muffled from Subong’s bony shoulder digging into his face. “It’s just a handjob, right? It’s not like I haven’t gotten one before.”

Subong squeezes him tighter. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened you with One Piece .” He sucks in an alarmingly emotional breath. “Aw, Namgyu, I’m sorry!”

Jesus Christ, is he crying? Namgyu wheedles out of his arms to stare at him. 

Okay, thank fuck, he’s not crying, but he looks close to it. It’s deeply disturbing. Namgyu feels really fucking bad. 

“Hyung, stop crying. I said I’d do it, and I’ll do it. It’s not a big deal.”

Subong keeps pouting at him, and Namgyu’s really starting to worry that the tears are gonna start flowing, but then the pout drops. Subong tilts his head and asks, “Are you wearing makeup?”

Namgyu misses that time half a second ago when Subong looked guilty. The smile he’s got on now is significantly more disturbing. Namgyu flushes red and says, “No.”

“Yeah you are. You wearing foundation or something?”

Fuck. God damn it. Subong is mere centimeters from his face right now. Still, Namgyu says, “No.”

“You look cute,” Subong coos. 

Namgyu grimaces. “No I don’t.”

“Yes you do,” Subong says, giving Namgyu a playful punch to the shoulder. “It’s a little smeared, though.”

“Eew, stop it,” Namgyu groans when Subong swipes his thumbs across his cheeks. 

“Come on,” Subong urges. “If you’re gonna wear makeup, might as well make sure it’s applied right. Let me.”

Whatever momentary bout of guilt Subong was feeling seems to have completely evaporated when Namgyu sighs and lets him wipe at his face. 

“There,” Subong says with a satisfied nod, inspecting his handiwork. “Did you fill in your eyebrows too?”

Namgyu’s far too mortified to care anymore. “Uh huh.”

“You look good!” Subong says, giving him a pat on the cheek. “You sure you’re still down for this? We can just hang out and answer questions if this is too much.”

Whatever. Namgyu’s already lost any trace of dignity he’s ever had when he willingly let Subong touch his face like that. Might as well let him jerk him off too. “I’m still down for the handjob.”

Subong grins wide and says, “Sweet!” He sits up straighter, bobbing his head in excitement. “This is great! I bet I’ll have 50,000 subscribers by the end of the night.”

Namgyu can’t help but grin a little bit. That’s a pretty big number. So maybe a large percentage of that number is going to see his dick tonight. Subong said it’s a fine dick. Something about balls and girth and whatever, Namgyu has long since blocked it out, but point being, he said there’s nothing wrong with it. Namgyu knows there’s nothing wrong with it. None of the nine girls he’s hooked up with in the past have ever said there’s anything wrong with it. Subong’s fans won’t think there’s anything wrong with it, either. 

“Let’s get Gwangyang Bulgogi tomorrow to celebrate.”

Namgyu’s grin widens. “Takeout or dine-in?”

Subong meets his expression and holds out his hand for a fistbump. “Take-out, obviously. We’re watching One Piece while we eat.”

One Piece and barbecue. Namgyu’s life is a dream. He eagerly gives Subong a fistbump. 

“Alright, so you wanna do a safeword or a traffic light system?”

Namgyu’s life is still a dream. He tries not to grimace again when Subong leans in closer with a determined glint in his eye.

༄

Namgyu feels remarkably calm when 23:00 rolls around. He’s going to be eating barbecue beef and watching One Piece tomorrow night. He’s going to be watching the first episode of One Piece in just an hour—Subong promised they’d fit in an episode before bed. He’s really fucking excited. The handjob is, frankly, the last thing on his mind. He’s got Jelli napping cutely on his lap and a cold Diet Dr. Pepper next to him on Subong’s nightstand. Who could think of a handjob at a time like this? Certainly not Namgyu. 

He’s grinning to himself and thinking about all the spoilers he’s going to subject Subong to when Subong finally finishes setting up his camera at the foot of the bed and sits down next to him against the headboard.

“Alright, man, you ready?” he asks.

Namgyu beams at him. This isn’t all that nerve-wracking at all. Subong’s actually wearing a shirt and pants for this stream. “Yup.”

“And you remember our system?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re chill with the plan?”

“Jesus, hyung, for the millionth time, yes.”

Subong snorts and tousles Namgyu’s hair. “So eager to get jerked off, huh?”

At this point, Namgyu can’t find the wherewithal to tease him back. He’s far too busy thinking about One Piece . He takes a sip from his Diet Dr. Pepper and gets up off the bed, depositing Jelli’s sleeping body in the hallway before closing the door. “Whatever. Just start the stream.”

Subong leans forward to turn on the camera. Honestly, Namgyu’s not even sure why he was so worked up. They’re both clothed. So maybe his dick will be out at some point, but whatever. Subong’s already seen it, and it’s not like Namgyu can see the audience. It’s just him and Subong in Subong’s bedroom. 

Maybe that makes it weirder. Namgyu’s not going to think about it, though. He’s way too busy thinking about his strategy for systematically convincing Subong to dye his hair green. Then he can cosplay Zoro when Namgyu cosplays Sanji. And Jelli can be Tony Tony Chopper. It’s gonna be so great. Namgyu can’t wait to post those pictures in his One Piece Discord.

“Sup, guys?” Subong greets the camera. 

Right, okay. Namgyu needs to lock in if he wants to take those cosplay pictures one day. He smiles and waves at the camera. “Hey.”

“You freaks wouldn’t shut up about this douche, so here he is,” Subong says with a smirk, tousling Namgyu’s hair. “Everyone say ‘hi, roommate.’”

Namgyu glances down at his phone, where he’s got the chat pulled up. There are already almost 1,000 people watching. It’s a lot of people. There are a lot of comments coming in. The words ‘twink’ and ‘bottom’ are appearing with an alarming frequency, but at this point, Namgyu’s numb to it. He just laughs and says, “Geez, coming in hot already.”

Subong looks down at Namgyu’s phone and smirks. “Don’t be weird, guys. He’s just here to hang out for a little.”

All part of the script they spent the last two hours scraping together. It’s probably the most thought Subong has ever put into a stream, despite the plan consisting only of them pretending that the handjob is a spur of the moment thing. It’s very stupid. What kind of person just casually hangs out for their roommate’s porn stream without expecting dicks to be involved? There’s no way the audience is going to buy it, but Namgyu’s too busy thinking about whether or not he should buy a wig for his cosplay to get all worked up about it. He’s definitely not bleaching his hair, but maybe he can get away with just being a black-haired Sanji. A wig would be pretty itchy.

“How about you introduce yourself, roommate?” Subong prompts.

Namgyu blinks, returning somewhat to the present moment. Potential non-itchy wig options are still sticking to the back of his mind when he says, “Uh, right. Well, I’m hyung’s roommate.”

Subong chuckles as he takes a pull from his vape. “What else?”

“Uh,” Namgyu says, searching his brain for vague details. The blueberry scent is disgusting, but oddly comforting. It’s familiar. It helps him feel grounded enough to say, “I like to cook. I like working out and watching anime. I like tattoos.” He punctuates the last part by holding up his forearms in front of the camera. “So, uh. Yeah. That’s all I’ve really got going on.”

Subong picks up Namgyu’s phone and reads over the chat. He smirks and says to the camera, “No, he’s straight. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Namgyu smiles as he leans over Subong’s shoulder and reads the chat. It’s flattering, kind of, seeing a bunch of horny comments about how hot he is. They’re probably all just saying that because they’re thirsty weirdos who want to see him and Subong bang each other, but still. It’s a very welcome ego boost. 

He preens when he reads a comment asking for a tattoo tour. Surely it’s just a ploy to get him shirtless, but Namgyu’s not gonna turn down the opportunity to show off his sick tattoos. He’s spent a lot of money on them. Might as well show them off.

Namgyu grins at the camera and holds out his arm. “This was my first one,” he says, pointing at the horseshoe on his wrist.

Ten minutes in, he’s got his shirt off and the chat is far too invested in the tattoos he’s got under his waistband of his sweatpants. It’s flattering. Subong’s still fully dressed, but the view count keeps rising. 3,000 people are watching now. It’s not as much as Subong usually gets, but it’s still pretty good considering all Subong’s doing is sitting off to the side and vaping.

“Femboylover5ever is asking what anime you watch,” Subong says, holding the phone out to Namgyu.

Jesus, what a username. How they ended up being subscribed to Subong is beyond Namgyu’s comprehension. Maybe they meant to go to MG Groin’s channel and ended up here instead. Whatever. Namgyu says, “ One Piece .”

“Yeah?” Subong urges. “Wanna tell them about it?”

Namgyu beams wide as he launches into a rant about One Piece . Another ten minutes pass, probably mind-numbingly boring for the viewers, but that’s kinda par for the course here on Subong’s channel. Subong always starts his streams off with boring banter about video games or music or whatever other dumb thing happens to be on his mind. 

Namgyu can get the appeal. He’s got a captive audience right now, more or less forced to listen to him talk. There are people in the chat asking him questions about his favorite episodes. Pretty soon, he’ll be showing those episodes to Subong. It’s all very exciting. 

Sadly, Subong cuts him off in the middle of his explanation of Devil Fruits and says, “Don’t you have a devil tattoo on your thigh? You should show it to the viewers.”

Ugh, okay. They’re easing into the handjob thing now. Namgyu knows he’s gonna take off his sweatpants, and Subong’s gonna put on an act of being all into it, then he’s gonna put on an act of being all flustered, then boom. Handjob. Whatever. Namgyu’s gotten used to the idea by now. 

He takes a sip of Diet Dr. Pepper to steel himself and says, “Sure, okay.”

He’s already not wearing a shirt, so losing the pants isn’t too massive of a deal. At least he gets to keep his boxers on. The thought keeps Namgyu from getting too antsy over it when he tugs his sweatpants down over his legs and points to the goat on the side of his left thigh. “So that’s Satan.”

Subong coos and brushes the tips of his fingers over the tattoo. “Isn’t it sick, guys?”

It’s not all that surprising when Subong’s fingers linger and a smirk curls over his lips. He’s never been the best actor, so Namgyu’s far from disturbed by how obvious he’s being with the whole thing. The viewers are probably into it, anyway. 

He is disturbed by how nice it feels to have Subong touching his thigh like that. His dick is starting to get a little interested in this whole dumb thing. He lets out a cough and grabs his Diet Dr. Pepper in an effort to hide how red his face is getting.

No, fuck, that’s literally the whole point. He’s supposed to be all blushy and aroused. That’s all part of the script—Subong feels him up, he gets flustered, then boom. Handjob. So not a big deal. Namgyu needs to calm the hell down. Or, well, not calm the hell down, at least externally. He’s supposed to look flustered. 

“You been working out more?” Subong asks, rubbing his hand up higher on Namgyu’s thigh. 

It feels very nice. Namgyu tries not to choke on his Diet Dr. Pepper as he puts it back on the table and says, “You would know.”

Subong grins and reads over the comments on Namgyu’s phone. His hand is getting alarmingly close to Namgyu’s crotch when he says, “MpregWorshipper’s asking if we work out together.” He turns to face the camera. “We sure do! My roommate's my gym buddy. Isn’t that right, roommate?”

Ugh, he’s really hamming it up with the touching. The whole ‘spur of the moment handjob’ thing is going to be so unrealistic if he’s already rubbing on Namgyu like this. 

But that’s what the audience probably wants. They’ve kinda been edging them for the past twenty minutes with all the tattoo and anime talk. Namgyu swallows back the nerves and says to the camera, “Uh huh. Twice a week.”

The hand rubbing his thigh gets a little more firm and way too high up. 

Namgyu yelps and jerks back when the heel of Subong’s palm brushes over his dick. It’s not like Subong isn’t expecting him to get hard at some point, but it’s still mortifying. It’s way too soon. Namgyu shouldn’t already be this into it. Subong hasn’t even properly touched his dick yet. He’s getting all excited just from some leg rubbing. 

Subong looks back up from his phone at him and tilts his head. “You kinda sound like Spongebob when your voice gets all high like that.”

Ugh. Using Spongebob characters for this traffic light bullshit was such a dumb idea.

“I guess,” Namgyu says, subtly easing his hips away from Subong.

To Namgyu’s massive relief, Subong sits back against the pillows, putting a safe distance between himself and Namgyu’s dick. “The chat’s asking who our favorite Spongebob characters are.”

Namgyu suppresses the urge to laugh. No they aren't. They’re all asking them to just whip it out already. But the distance and lack of attention being given to his dick makes him feel calm enough to say, “Squidward.”

Subong turns his head to grin at him. “Yeah? Not Spongebob?”

It’s kind of sweet. Subong’s a weirdly sweet person. “Nope, I like Squidward.”

“He would be your favorite, dude. You act just like him.”

Their faces are really close together. It’s making Namgyu’s face feel hot. That’s okay. He’s supposed to be blushing. 

They’re supposed to be hamming it up, really. They’ve been streaming for almost half an hour. They kinda need to get the ball rolling, so Namgyu offers him a coy smile and says, “Are you trying to say I’m mean or something?”

“No,” Subong retorts. “I’m just saying, we’ve kinda got a Spongebob and Squidward dynamic. You’re always yelling at me.”

Shit, does that count as him using the word? Namgyu frowns and asks, “So who’s your favorite character?”

Subong winks and says, “Squidward.”

Phew. Okay. Namgyu lets out a relieved sigh and smirks. “So you must like it when I yell at you, huh?”

Subong rolls his eyes. “No way. I get a tummy ache whenever you’re mad at me.”

Fuck, does he actually? Hopefully he’s just doing a little performance for the camera. Namgyu pushes aside the worry and pouts his lower lip out. “Aw, really?” he coos, petting a hand over Subong’s abdomen. “I’m sorry, hyung. I promise I’ll be nicer to you.”

Subong lets out a laugh and squirms against the headboard. “Stop, that tickles.”

“Does it?” Namgyu asks, running his fingers under Subong’s shirt. “I didn’t know you were ticklish.”

Ugh, crap, he’s kind of setting it up for him to be the one doing the jerking off. 

Namgyu is saved from having to backtrack when Subong gets an amused glint in his eye and darts a hand out to ghost over Namgyu’s stomach. “Aren’t you ticklish? You were squirming around like a doofus just a minute ago.”

Namgyu bleats out a laugh when Subong’s hand brushes over his thigh again. “No I wasn’t.”

“You totally were, dude.”

It’s not unexpected when Subong pushes Namgyu against the pillows and makes a show of tickling him. It’s very dumb, and very much the standard set up of, like, every porn ever, but the stupidity of it all helps. It’s all just kind of silly. Subong’s knee is between Namgyu’s legs, very evidently pressed against his dick in perfect view of the camera. It’s all very silly. 

Dreams of One Piece and delicious barbecue fuel Namgyu as he makes a show of squirming around underneath Subong. “Ah, that feels weird.”

“Does it?” Subong asks with another wink. He kind of looks like a purple-haired Zoro when he’s doing all this winking. He’ll look really good once Namgyu manages to force him into a Zoro cosplay. He’d look pretty cool in an open kimono with a sword in his mouth. 

It’s sorta working for Namgyu. It’s mildly alarming, but he’s on camera right now, so he just takes advantage of the way his face is reddening and shoots a pinched look at the camera as he jerks his hips up. 

“Oh,” Subong huffs out, eyes locked on the front of Namgyu’s boxers. He runs a hand along the waistband, all wide-eyed and faux-innocent as he asks, “Are you hard right now?”

Namgyu puts on a sheepish smile. “That feels really good, hyung.”

“What? Me touching you?” Subong asks. It’s a little ridiculous. It’s got to be so painfully obvious that this is just the set up of a bad porn, but the audience must be into it. When Namgyu glances down at his phone, he sees that the view count is inching closer to 10,000. 

10,000 people are about to see Namgyu’s dick. It’s too much to process, so he latches instead to the mental image of Subong in his Zoro cosplay. It’s gonna be so cool. All the people from the One Piece Discord are gonna freak. Maybe get a little weird about Namgyu cosplaying Sanji at the same time. The thought of that is kind of working for Namgyu, too. Maybe he’s just into voyeurism or something. That could explain why he’s so into this whole thing. He’s not gonna examine it too deeply.

“Yeah,” Namgyu says, subtly bucking his hips into Subong’s hand. “Can you touch me more?”

Subong leans in closer, eyes still wide. He’s got kind of nice eyes. Maybe Namgyu can nick some eyeliner from the convenience store and draw on a scar over his eye for the cosplay. 

“Do you really want me to?” Subong asks, cupping his palm over Namgyu’s dick. 

Namgyu makes a show of visibly swallowing back his nerves and nods. “Yeah, hyung. Please?”

Subong grins as he pulls Namgyu’s dick out of his boxers. It’s just as unceremonious as when he does it to himself on his other streams. It kind of helps Namgyu not bug out too much about this whole thing. This is just Subong’s job. He jerks it for money, so what’s the big deal if he jerks someone else off for money?

The thought makes Namgyu feel a little crappy. Subong doesn’t actually want to do this, not with Namgyu or anyone else. He’s never once wanted to stream with another person before. Definitely not with another guy. He’s just doing this because his fans want him to. 

Namgyu props himself up on his elbows and tilts his head close to Subong’s.

“We can just fake it if you don’t wanna do this,” Namgyu whispers, careful to keep his lips hidden from the camera.

Subong pulls his head back to look at Namgyu. “Mr. Krabs?” he whispers back. 

“Squidward,” Namgyu says, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to discern if Subong’s asking him or telling him. This secret code thing is kind of confusing. Why can’t they just outright say what they’re feeling? Though, Namgyu guesses, that would kind of break the illusion for the audience. All the Spongebob talk is pretty illusion-breaking, though. It’s very unsexy. Going with Nami, Sanji, and Zoro as their traffic light system would’ve been sexier. It’s too late to suggest that. Namgyu asks, “Squidward?”

Subong grins down at him, shuffles them both around until Namgyu’s leaning against his chest, and whispers against the back of his neck, “I’m totally Squidward, dude.”

Those words should not be affecting Namgyu as much as they are. They’re the polar opposite of sexy. But Namgyu’s dick is out, and Subong’s hand is curled around it, and it feels weirdly good to have Subong’s breath on the back of his neck. Namgyu’s own breath hitches in his throat when Subong strokes his thumb along his shaft. He’s definitely very hard now. His dick is very much on camera in this new position. He doesn’t dare look at the view count, but it’s probably increased since the last time he checked. 

“Relax,” Subong whispers, brushing Namgyu’s hair off the back of his neck and pressing his lips to his skin. 

Eew, god, Subong just kissed the back of his neck. Namgyu is horrified when the contact makes him moan. Even more horrified when Subong starts moving his hand and he can’t stop himself from moaning for a second time.

No, it’s chill. He’s supposed to be moaning. Every time Subong streams, he’s always making a big show of warbling out ridiculous, exaggerated moans. The audience is clearly into the whole act, so they’re gonna expect Namgyu to do the same thing. 

“Ah, hyung,” he moans, spreading his thighs and bucking into Subong’s hand. “That feels good.”

“Does it, baby?” Subong says, hooking his chin over Namgyu’s shoulder and speeding up his strokes. 

The ‘baby’ thing is…something. Disturbing is definitely a word Namgyu would use to describe it. It’s also working for him a little too well, just like the cosplay thing. That’s good, though. That just means this will be over sooner. He doesn’t think about it too much as he fixes his eyes on Subong’s hand, imagining what it would look like holding a cool sword. Namgyu’s probably gonna need to learn how to make swords for Subong’s cosplay.

Actually, no. He’s gonna have plenty of money when Subong gives him half his earnings for this stream. He can commission an artist to make the swords. He can buy himself a real suit for his Sanji cosplay instead of something cheap online. He can buy an expensive wig that doesn’t make his head itchy. The thought of that is definitely working for him. This will be over very quickly.

“Mhm,” Namgyu hums breathily. 

Subong reaches for the phone with his free hand, scrolling through the chat. “MpregWorshipper said your cock is cute.”

MpregWorshipper strikes again. Namgyu might be the only person on BangHub with a normal, non-horny username. More pressing, though, what the fuck. Cute? He flushes red with mortification. “Eew, what? Why does it have to be cute?”

Subong shrugs and drops the phone in favor of wrapping his arm around Namgyu’s stomach. Namgyu kind of regrets not putting his shirt back on, because it feels far too nice to have Subong touching his bare skin like this. This will be over very quickly. Maybe embarrassingly quickly. It’s kinda ironic he was so worried about not being able to get it up. He’s very much up. 

“‘Cus it is,” Subong says, running his thumb over the head.

Namgyu shudders as precum seeps from his tip. “Shut up.”

“You’re so cute,” Subong coos, taking his hand off Namgyu’s stomach to cup his balls. “Did you use my razor?”

Oh god, Namgyu wants to die . “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Subong chuckles, rubbing his palm along Namgyu’s balls. “I don’t mind sharing my stuff with you.”

He might just be saying that for the stream. There’s surely some razor-sharing fetishist out there getting their rocks off, what if he actually is upset? Shit, Namgyu should have asked first, and now he’s thinking about what Subong said earlier about his stomach aches, and the guilt is making Namgyu’s boner kinda deflate. He’s always yelling at Subong for taking his shit, but he never thinks about it for any longer than a second. Apparently, Subong thinks about it. Enough to make his stomach hurt. 

Christ, it’s not like the shit Subong takes is even Namgyu’s . Sure, he’s the one who cooks the food Subong steals, but Subong always pays for the groceries. Namgyu is a terrible roommate. 

He grabs his phone to read over the chat in hopes of distracting his brain from thinking about it too much. 

“What are they saying now?” Subong asks, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Uh,” Namgyu stammers out. The kiss feels too nice. He can’t compel his brain to focus on the words on his phone screen. At least it’s helping him not focus on the guilt so much. Subong probably doesn’t actually care about the razor thing. It’s not like Namgyu broke it. 

At least not that he’s aware of. Shit. He lets out a groan. 

“That was hot,” Subong says, tightening his hold on Namgyu’s dick and speeding up his strokes. “Make that sound again.”

It was hardly a sexy sound. But that’s fine. It probably came out sounding sexy rather than pained. He lets out another groan, throat going tight in the middle of it when Subong circles his thumb over his tip and spreads precum down his shaft. 

Subong pulls him in closer, hand moving faster and firmer. Namgyu can feel his gut tightening. He drops his phone back on the mattress in favor of scrunching the sheets in his fists as his orgasm starts to build.

“Hyung,” Namgyu says in a choked voice. “I’m gonna-”

“Wait, not yet,” Subong whispers against his neck. “Move up the bed a little.”

Namgyu’s a little too out of it to protest when Subong scoots them forward. He’s really fucking close, and his dick is deeply upset that Subong’s stopped touching it, so he just lets Subong manhandle him until they’re closer to the camera, Namgyu bracketed between Subong’s legs and his dick taking up a good fifty percent of the frame. 

Horrifying. Namgyu keeps his eyes locked on the bed so he can’t see his own dick on Subong’s computer monitor.

“Okay, sorry,” Subong murmurs into his ear, wrapping one hand back around Namgyu’s waist. “We’re good now.”

Namgyu just nods jerkily, pushing his head back against Subong’s shoulder when Subong starts to stroke him again. He’s not thinking about what’s on the monitor or whether or not the razor is broken anymore. It’s hard to think about anything aside from how really fucking good it feels when Subong’s hand speeds up. He’s alarmingly good at this. Makes sense, given he jerks off daily. 

Oh god, now Namgyu’s thinking about Subong jerking himself off. It’s working for him way too well.

“Fuck, hyung,” Namgyu warbles out, scrambling to grip Subong’s legs in his trembling hands. “Shit.”

“Isn’t he so sexy, guys?” Subong muses to the camera. He grins and presses a kiss to Namgyu’s neck. “My sexy roommate.”

They’re so close to the camera, the viewers can’t see the kiss. Surely Subong is aware of that. He did it anyway. The knowledge has Namgyu sucking in a breath as he nods. Whatever the fuck he’s nodding at , he doesn’t know, but his brain is kind of mush right now. All he can do is bob his head like a total idiot as he stares down at Subong’s hand, at the way his tendons jut out and his muscles flex. Namgyu can’t stop looking at them when he feels his abdominal muscles clench. 

“That’s it,” Subong murmurs, chin digging into Namgyu’s shoulder as he thrusts his hand up and down. “Come on.”

His voice is right in Namgyu’s ear. His breath still smells like blueberries. The warmth of his fruit-scented breath has Namgyu shivering as he bucks his hips up and comes.

“Ah, shit,” he moans when Subong keeps stroking him through his orgasm. 

“You’re so hot,” Subong coos.

“Hah,” Namgyu stammers out, eyes locked on Subong’s hand as he wipes it off on his pants. Namgyu should probably be grossed out. It’s his week to do laundry. But he’s very decidedly not grossed out, because his brain is far too occupied with having a miniature crisis over how sexy it felt to hear Subong call him hot directly in his ear. His voice is nice. It’s very deep. The fact that it’s deep should not be arousing. It is anyway.

Namgyu can’t help but do a little self-reflecting. There’s no heterosexual explanation for how much he wants Subong to keep calling him hot in that deep, sexy voice. There is definitely no heterosexual explanation for how much he wants to reach behind himself and wrap his hand around Subong’s cock. 

It’s a very unfortunate self-reflection to have in front of an audience of—Namgyu scrambles for his phone to check—yeah, okay. 12,000 people. 

“How was that, baby?” Subong asks, wrapping both his arms around Namgyu’s waist and squeezing him close. “Did I make you feel good?”

He made Namgyu feel a lot of things. Namgyu grimaces and says, “Yes.”

“Good.”

Namgyu’s brain is having a very difficult time deciding which crisis should take the forefront. They’re all just kind of tangling together in his mind as he asks, “Are you mad that I used your razor?”

“No, baby, it’s okay,” Subong says with a laugh. 

His laugh is very cute. He called Namgyu ‘baby’ again. Namgyu turns his head around and asks, a little dazed, “Do you want me to…?”

Subong’s eyebrows shoot up. “Huh?”

Even his eyebrows are cute. How Namgyu went two years without noticing, he has no idea. But he’s noticing now. He pulls his lip between his teeth, eyes darting between Subong’s face and the tent in his pants, and asks, “Want me to do you too?”

Subong beams and gives him a pat on the head. “Tempting offer, but sadly, it’s almost midnight. Next time!”

Oh, god. The stupid grin on Subong’s face and the reminder that this is all for the sake of the stream is hitting Namgyu with an intense bout of post-nut clarity. He cringes and dislodges himself from between Subong’s legs, scooting up the bed and grabbing his now-lukewarm Diet Dr. Pepper. It’s shitty now that it isn’t cold. Namgyu needs something to clear his head, though. 

“Well, guys, that’s my roommate!” Subong says to the camera jocularly, jutting his thumb back at Namgyu as he chugs down the rest of his shitty Diet Dr. Pepper and tucks his dick back in his boxers. “Pretty cool, huh?”

There isn’t much left to the stream, just Subong closing out and saying that he’ll see them all again tomorrow. It’s a blessing when Namgyu watches Subong turn off the camera. It’s also a nightmare, because now he has to face the reality of what he just offered to do. 

But Subong just spins around on the bed, eyes wide and excited, and says, “Holy shit, dude! That was the most viewers I’ve literally ever had in one night.”

He holds up his hand for a high five. Namgyu returns the gesture as he falls deeper and deeper into a fugue state. 

“You did great,” Subong says with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

Namgyu blinks and forces his best attempt at a casual smile. “Good.”

Subong stands up, still grinning and looking far too at ease considering the boner in his pants. “Man, this is great. You still down for some One Piece ?”

Namgyu nods, but he’s on autopilot. “Yup. Uh huh.”

“Sweet! I’m gonna take a shower first.” Subong lets out a giggle and points at his crotch. “Gotta take care of this guy.”

It’s remarkable how casually he can just say shit like that—like he’s talking about taking out the trash or something. 

It is casual. This doesn’t mean anything. It was just a quick handjob. A favor, really. Kind of like a business transaction. Namgyu slips back into his sweatpants, grabs his pack of cigarettes, and chainsmokes on the balcony until he’s sufficiently clamped down the absolute shitshow happening in his brain. 

He must just be pent up or something. It’s been a long time since he’s hooked up with anyone, so obviously he’s gonna get a little too into it after such a long dry spell. And Subong is objectively hot. That’s okay. It’s not gay to admit it. 

Or maybe it is. Namgyu doesn’t know. There’s probably no straight justification for just how much he’s thinking about what Subong is doing in the shower. Hopefully not noticing that his razor is now broken. He probably isn’t. He’s definitely jerking off.

Namgyu busies himself with thoughts of restocking shelves and dealing with annoying customers to keep his boner at bay.

This is fine. It’s whatever. So what if he’s a little into Subong right now? It doesn’t mean this won’t fade away as soon as his boner wanes. He just needs to start watching porn that isn’t of his roommate.

That has to be it. He’s seen Subong’s dick too many times. It’s making him confused. The thought gives him the strength to come back inside with a smile on his face and join Subong on the couch. He eagerly accepts the bowl of ice cream and can of Dr. Pepper Subong offers him. 

This is normal. All part of their normal routine. Subong’s acting totally normal about this whole thing, so Namgyu can too. He cracks open his Dr. Pepper, takes a long pull, and lets out a burp. 

“Nasty,” Subong chuckles before letting out a burp of his own.

So normal. It’s a massive relief. Namgyu grins and asks, “So One Piece ?”

Subong smiles back and puts his head on Namgyu’s lap. “Yup!”

Subong puts his head on Namgyu’s lap literally all the time. This is all normal, and besides, One Piece takes top priority. Namgyu can continue pondering his sexuality later. He’s been waiting for this day for far too long to let anything distract from the copious amounts of lore-drops he needs to harass Subong with.

It helps when Jelli pops up on the couch and settles herself on Subong’s chest. She’s acting normal, and dogs are supposed to have, like, a sixth sense or something. Or maybe that’s cats. Or maybe that isn’t a thing at all. Whatever. Namgyu’s too busy pointing the remote at the screen and talking over all the dialogue to ponder it. 

“I hope the baby stuff was chill,” Subong says halfway through the episode during a short lull in Namgyu’s rantings. “I thought it’d be weird to say roommate when I was dirty-talking you, so I kinda improvised.”

“It’s chill,” Namgyu says, eyes locked on the screen as forces himself not to freak out about it. One Piece is way more important. He needs to focus on that. He will focus on that, but first he has to say, for the sake of keeping himself from falling into a different panic, “Your razor isn’t broken, right?”

“Dude,” Subong laughs, turning his head up on Namgyu’s lap to grin at him. “No, it’s not. Seriously, use my razor all you want. I don’t care.”

Okay. So that wasn’t for the cameras, then. Namgyu’s not going to think about what else wasn’t for the cameras. Not at all. It’s enough just to know Subong isn’t mad at him. Now, he’s going to think about One Piece . 

“Was it good?” Subong asks. “That was my first handjob.”

“Uh huh,” Namgyu says passively, distracted by thoughts of the Romance Dawn Arc.

“Hell yeah,” Subong says with a grin, taking a big bite of his ice cream. “So what’s up with the fruit thing again? Why’s this dude so stretchy?”

This is all totally fine. Subong is acting normal. Jelli is acting normal. Namgyu can act normal. He grins as he pushes the existential crisis to the side and imbues Subong with an overly detailed rundown of Devil Fruit lore. 

༄

Namgyu is a simple man. He likes having a set routine. Subong does too, and usually that’s a great thing. Not today, though, because their usual Saturday afternoon trip to the gym is horrifically awkward when they clearly both don’t want to do it.

Subong seemed totally normal when they parted for bed last night, but this morning, he looked miserable. Namgyu’s been far too mortified to strike up a conversation about it. Subong must regret everything, or maybe he watched the stream back and could just see the gay panic on Namgyu’s face, or maybe he just belatedly realized he thinks Namgyu’s dick is gross, or something . Namgyu hasn’t asked. Subong hasn’t offered it up. They’re still at the gym together anyway. It’s a nightmare.

Never once has Namgyu been struck by how homoerotic it is to work out with another man. He’s never once looked at Subong running on a treadmill and gotten a little dazed thinking about how sexy it is when he’s breathing hard. He’s never had Subong spot for him at the weight bench and wondered what it’d be like if he was lifting Subong like that instead of a barbell. 

He’s thinking about it now. He’s thinking about what could have changed between last night and this morning to make Subong so miserable. He’s also thinking about the thing Subong said yesterday about his stomach aches. 

He’s thinking about a lot of things. The last one, at least, is slightly easier to talk about. 

“Hyung, do our arguments really bother you that much?” Namgyu asks as he stands above Subong at the weight bench. 

Subong glances up at him. There’s a sheen of sweat across his forehead. It’s very hot. Namgyu needs to stop thinking about it and focus on the stomach ache thing. 

“Kind of,” Subong says. 

Oh, Jesus. Namgyu figured, but it still makes his stomach drop. He flushes and says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s chill.”

It decidedly must not be chill, because Subong’s gone from looking a normal amount of miserable to extremely miserable. 

“No, I’m sorry,” Namgyu says. “I’ll stop being so pissy all the time.”

Subong looks terribly pitiful when he directs his big, sad eyes up at Namgyu and asks, “Do I really make you that mad?”

This is far too earnest of a conversation to be having when Subong is currently holding up 70 kilograms. Namgyu takes the barbell from his hands and puts it back up on the rack. “Of course not.”

Subong sits up and hunches his big, sad, alarmingly sexy shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Namgyu rips his eyes away from Subong’s shoulders and back to his eyes. They’re just as big, sad, and alarmingly sexy. It’s a shock that none of this registered over the two years they’ve known each other. Namgyu must be stupid. He definitely is stupid, because in addition to his latent attraction, he never noticed just how much this whole fighting thing was bothering Subong. It’s clearly been bothering him a lot. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I really am sorry. I know I should be more grateful.”

“What do you mean?” Subong asks, nose scrunching up in confusion.

Namgyu sighs and fiddles with his ponytail in an effort to dispel some nervous energy. He’s really regretting bringing this up, but at least they’re talking. The morning was so awkward with neither of them saying anything to each other. “I just mean, you know. You pay for everything, so it’s not fair that I get mad when you take my stuff. So, yeah. I’m sorry.”

Subong’s face falls even more. Fuck, shit, Namgyu needs to shut up and die. This is terrible. 

“Hey, you know the money stuff doesn’t matter,” Subong says with a horribly pitiful pout. He stands up, crowding into Namgyu’s space. “Namgyu, seriously. I’ll stop taking your things. I’m really sorry.”

Namgyu squirms. They’re standing too close. Subong looks too sexy with all that sweat on his face. He’s also, alarmingly, really fucking sweet. When did he become such a sweetheart? What happened to the freak who’s always calling Namgyu a bitch and burping in his face? 

“No, it’s okay,” Namgyu says with a sigh. “We can share stuff.”

Subong smiles sheepishly. “Really? Is it cool if I eat some of your food? It just tastes so good.”

Namgyu preens a little. He is a pretty good cook. “Sure. Just ask first.”

“I’m sorry I keep taking things without asking. I hate making you mad.”

Jesus, why the fuck is he so sweet? Namgyu kind of feels like his heart is going to explode from the sweetness. It’s terribly alarming. “I promise I’m never actually mad at you. I’m just sort of a bitch.”

“You’re not really a bitch. Does it upset you when I call you a bitch?”

Crap, he looks so miserable about it. Namgyu smiles, forces himself to give Subong’s extremely sexy shoulder a casual, platonic pat, and says, “Not at all. Call me a bitch all you want, hyung.”

Eew, god, that sounds like dirty talk. Namgyu needs to move to another country and assume a new identity. At the very least, though, it gets Subong to drop the miserable pouty puppy look on his face. He lets out a relieved sigh and asks, “So you don’t hate me?”

“Of course I don’t,” Namgyu says, rubbing his shoulder and trying not to stare too much at his less pouty yet still puppy-like lips. “Who could hate you? You’re a big ol’ puppy.”

Eew, fuck, crap, Namgyu needs to die . He needs to shut up forever and die. 

Subong sighs again and wraps his big sweaty arms around Namgyu. “Phew. Okay. I love you.”

Namgyu hugs him back, grimacing at how nice he smells. Did he always smell nice? Even the lingering blueberry vape scent is kind of pleasant. Shit, his sweat smells good. Namgyu probably smells like shit. He chainsmoked three cigarettes before they left for the gym. “Love you too, man.”

Subong doesn’t let go. It’s wildly uncomfortable, and Namgyu needs some distance or he’s afraid his dick is going to get far too interested, but then Subong squeezes him tighter and asks, “You mean that?”

Oh, god . Namgyu stares down at the floor in an effort to hide the blush on his face. He never says it back, does he? Subong’s always going around saying he loves him. Fuck, Namgyu’s the worst person in the world. “Yeah, you know I love you.”

Subong lets out a content sigh and kisses the top of Namgyu’s head. “You’re my best friend, did you know that?”

This is bad. Subong’s usually so strict about the whole age thing. Fuck, if they’re friends now, what else could they be? 

Namgyu goes pale. What the hell is he thinking? They’re not going to be anything else. It was one handjob. Namgyu needs to calm the fuck down. He also needs to be significantly nicer to Subong. Subong is so nice to him .

“You’re my best friend too,” Namgyu says. Technically, he’s Namgyu’s only friend. Namgyu doesn’t say that out loud. It would kind of ruin the moment. This is all extremely sweet. Also bad, at least for Namgyu’s currently ongoing sexuality crisis. But very sweet.

“Can I ask you for something kinda big?”

Ugh, Namgyu would kind of do anything for him right now, he fears. He’s being way too sweet. “Sure, man.”

“Can you call off work tonight?”

Namgyu freezes. “Why?”

“I woke up this morning to 48,000 subscribers,” Subong says, pulling back to look at Namgyu with a determined glint in his eye. “I’m literally so close to getting the top spot. We don’t even have to do anything, okay? Just maybe sit with me while I game and answer some questions from the fans?”

“Don’t you already have the top spot?” Namgyu asks incredulously. “That’s 1,000 more than MG.”

Subong scrubs a hand through his hair. He looks miserable again. “Apparently he did a special stream last night. He and his girlfriend had TigerKing on. I guess a threesome is more interesting than two dudes jerking it.”

Oh, this is bad news. Daeho’s the fourth most popular streamer on BangHub. If he and MG collaborated, this can’t be good. 

Still, Namgyu can’t help but be a little relieved. “Is that why you were all upset this morning?”

Subong’s shoulders slump pitifully. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to make you mad.”

God, Namgyu feels so fucking guilty. He needs to seriously work on being less of a massive bitch all the time. “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. How many subscribers does he have now?”

Subong looks downright distraught when he says, “50,000.”

Fuck. That’s a lot of subscribers. But that’s only 2,000 more than Subong. If he gained 3,000 from one stream, he’ll surely surpass MG in no time. 

And, admittedly, Namgyu kinda wants to see where all this leads. Maybe he can get this thing he has for Subong out of his system if they fool around enough times. 

He needs to stop thinking about fooling around. They’re not going to fool around again. They’re going to play Valorant and answer questions. 

Horny questions. Fuck, Namgyu needs to stop thinking. 

“Alright, hyung. I’ll help you out.”

Subong gasps and picks Namgyu up, spinning him around in a circle. “ Yessss. Dude, you’re the fucking best. I promise I’ll watch all the One Piece you want. I’ll even watch the movies.”

Namgyu’s heart flutters in his chest. “Will you watch the live action series?”

“Of course I’ll watch the live action series,” Subong says resolutely as he puts Namgyu back down. 

Oh, this is fucking stellar . Namgyu’s gonna have Subong captive to all this One Piece media for years at this rate. So much lore to drop. So many characters and plot points to over-explain. Namgyu could kiss Subong, he’s so happy. 

He kinda just wants to kiss Subong in general. He’s not going to, but the desire is there. A terrible thing to realize in a semi-public gym. Any one of their neighbors could just walk in and see them. Namgyu digs his front teeth into his lower lip in an effort to stop himself from thinking about it. 

Subong grins and ruffles Namgyu’s hair. “Wanna order dinner? I bet we can fit in at least three episodes before you gotta work if we call Gwangyang Bulgogi now.”

A feeling like dread is pooling in Namgyu’s stomach. There is no chance in hell this is leading to anything good. Subong can’t be hot and extremely sweet and down to watch One Piece and down to buy him expensive barbecue. It’s too much. Namgyu’s terrified that he’s gonna get too invested. Because, sure, maybe he’s kinda realizing he’s definitely into Subong, but Subong’s straight. He’s only doing this for his ranking. Eventually, he’ll be the top streamer, and then whatever it is they’re doing will end.

God, they’re not doing anything. It was one handjob. It’s never going to happen again.

The thought makes Namgyu feel a little miserable himself. It shouldn’t, but it does. He’s so fucking screwed.