The touch against his wrists is achingly gentle, warmth against the flutter of his pulse, and Jungkook finds himself transfixed at the way Yoongi's fingers look as they hold him in place. Never in his imagination did he think that Yoongi would be rough, exactly — but neither did he picture this, never did he expect to have even rope declared too rough.

Over the years, Jungkook feels that he's been forced so many times to remain standing under the brunt of force; in moments like these, he's almost at a loss for what to do with the opposite. But perhaps it's best that way, for the difference between what he experiences here and at home to be like night and day.

"I want you more," Jungkook immediately declares, all brightness where Yoongi's light is gently diffused. With his hands held apart, only the air brushes against his skin now, an absence of friction even when Jungkook raises his hips.

He tugs experimentally against the wrapped silk, making sure that his hands won't slip free, and turns a grin back on Yoongi afterwards. His pulse pounds in his ears. "So okay," he breathes, already looking to the other wrist. "I'm not going to change my mind. Or if I do, you shouldn't — you shouldn't let me touch you until you're ready."