Yoongi would have thought that, maybe, watching Jungkook instead of closing his eyes would help him hold out longer. If anything, though, it's all the more arousing. He's so gorgeous, his lips pursed tight around Yoongi's cock, occasionally straining against the ties, though not in any way that makes Yoongi worry. If anything, it seems to him like, when Jungkook does that, it's only because he wants to get closer, to touch, desperate to have hands on skin, and that's hot, too.

Still, as he edges closer, thoughts of trying to stave off his orgasm fade away. He wants this so badly, hips rocking a little harder, a little faster, as he chases his end. Moving like this, he can't help thinking of later, of some unknown day in the future, when he'll get to fuck Jungkook. The idea of being buried deep inside of him prompts another rich moan, breath falling in shaky pants. When they started, he'd had it in his head that he'd get Jungkook off first, but he doesn't have the willpower to stop, not when this feels so fucking good, his body shaking with exertion and pleasure, pressure building until he tugs thoughtlessly at Jungkook's hair anyway.

"I'm close," he gasps, hips stuttering against Jungkook's mouth, gripping the headboard until his knuckles go white. "Fuck, I — Jungkook —"