lovestrippedbare | 𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕪

Entry tags:

yoongi

𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕪

The world feels like it's been a little dimmer since Monday. Generally, Jungkook isn't the type to let himself be too affected by his environment — he'd sooner be the one assessing it from a distance, rather than get caught up in all of its complexity — but ever since becoming friends with his hyungs, more and more of their moods start to siphon in. He's aware, albeit distantly, when they're sad. Feels their anger and frustration as if they were his own. There are times when it gets to be too much, and Jungkook will always take the time to step away, make sure that he can breathe and feel the ground beneath his feet. But there are times when, no matter how much the earth shifts, he feels like he has to watch.

He's not sure why he always feels like he's holding his breath, waiting for the dissolution.

Yesterday went better than expected, Jungkook thinks. To see Jimin's smile as they sat on the train, taking it to the edge of the country, where they could watch the open sea and the planes taking off into the sky. Even if Jungkook knows that he wasn't able to erase all of the shadows from Jimin's mind, there are times when lifting the burden feels like enough of a success. As long as they can get to the next day, and the next still, there will come a time when all of them will be strong enough to shrug everything off, should they need. Jungkook has to believe that.

He knows that there's a bit of a risk in being out so late three nights now in a row, and he's done his best to keep a close eye on his father whenever at home, assessing his moods. This week seems to be a peaceful one, and not knowing when that grace will end, Jungkook takes advantage of it at once. He's long since learned that things like this can be unpredictable, and the only way to ensure happiness is to grasp at it whenever it's within reach.

And he is happy, enjoying the quiet companionship in Yoongi's room, hours of piano practice behind them now. They're mostly working on homework, which isn't as hard to focus on now than it was a week ago.

As being the key word.

Jungkook figures that he's finished enough for the night — he might regret later not working ahead, but for now, everything he needs to present to his teacher the next day is more or less done, and so he slides the notebook away and drops his pen with a flourish. A few steps easily carry him to the bed, and he sits down on the edge of the mattress, holding his arms out in Yoongi's direction.

"I finished, and I'd like to claim my reward," he declares softly, tilting his head with a smile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Maybe it's not that actions are more important," Jungkook muses. It's a good question, given the context, and it takes him a while to figure out exactly how to express what he's feeling in words. To say that actions matter more than intent feels like too much, and unkind to the moments when doubt and fear weigh over desire. If actions really are the most important, then perhaps it's all the more damning for Jungkook, who so rarely takes it in the context of the home.

(But maybe he's just making excuses for himself. Maybe he really is a coward.)

"But actions are the result of all of your thoughts and wishes, right? Even if I want to kick my teacher sometimes, I know that he's just trying to get me ready for my exams, so I don't. Everyone wants to do stupid things sometimes — everyone gets mad." Jungkook threads his fingers through Yoongi's hair, working up a rhythm, following the inhale and exhale of his breath. "But I know you'd never use your anger against me. You'd never try to hurt me."

"True," Yoongi allows. When he would do anything to keep Jungkook safe, he can't imagine ever trying to hurt him. He's less sure if that holds up when he considers the others. Sometimes he wants desperately to lash out at them, for slights both real and, mostly, imagined; but the fact that he doesn't has to mean something. Even if it's because he's afraid doing so would show them how awful he is, it still means something that he doesn't. Maybe what matters isn't so much not having the impulses as it is never following through on them.

And then there's this, being curled up with Jungkook like this, fingers carding gently through his hair, safe, wanted. Maybe not everything he thought was selfish is actually bad. "I guess," he says, slow, feeling out the words, "sometimes it's just... hard to know what's real and what's me lying to myself."

On the very rare occasions when he's let himself talk about this, it's been so difficult. It hurts to admit these things, hurts to imagine how the person he's talking to must feel. If one of his friends told him they felt like this, he knows he would be upset and worried. He's not sure why he mostly just feels like he deserves it. Still, it's a little easier now, a little safer with Jungkook. It still leaves an ache in his chest, but there's something like relief in it, too, at being seen. "It's exhausting."

In some ways, having the distance between them is easier, Jungkook thinks. There's a certain openness between them when they don't have to look into one another's eyes, as much as it pains him to feel that way. He wants for there to be a day when they can speak about this without reservation — when it can be out in the open, less for the sake of being revealed, and more because Yoongi will have come to a point where it isn't so hard anymore. Where he can identify which voices are the demons, and which are the truth. But it'd be naive to expect for either of them to reach that point today, Jungkook knows. He feels like he's only just begun to scratch the surface of what's there, and he can't help the way that shame licks at his cheeks, wondering already if he's going to be enough. If he's strong enough to give Yoongi what he needs.

But there are still moments where Jungkook thinks that having the visual anchor is important, and it's when Yoongi expresses a deep, bone-aching fatigue that Jungkook shimmies partway down the mattress, fingers still threading through Yoongi's hair, until both of them see eye to eye.

"I'll help you figure it out. Figure out what's real," Jungkook says, searching for Yoongi's gaze, his own earnest and unguarded. "This is real. The way that you love me is real. The love you have for the other hyungs, the way you look out for them, the way you always want what's best for them, even if they've hurt you. That's real. Min Yoongi is a good person."

Jungkook reaches for Yoongi's hand, lacing their fingers together with a soft squeeze. "I wouldn't have fallen in love with you if you weren't one."

It's enough to make tears prick at Yoongi's eyes, and he blinks quickly, glancing down, though there's really no hiding it. He can't try for long anyway, not when Jungkook looks at him like that and all he wants is to look into his eyes and rest, to be at peace for just a little while. Even if it only lasts a few minutes, he can try to let himself believe this. Jungkook does, so there must be truth in it. Granted, Jungkook isn't exactly infallible. Still, he's not stupid or blind either. If he sees good, there must be some there.

"This is real," Yoongi echoes, other hand finally relaxing its grip on Jungkook's shirt. Holding his hand, he doesn't have such a need of that as an anchor. There isn't much he's always sure of. Even the best things in his life have their dark sides; the piano reminds him too much of his mother sometimes and there are moments when he worries he's selfish with Jungkook. But the love he feels, that he can hold onto. That he's certain of. And right now, clinging to Jungkook like this, he can believe the rest of it, too. He tries so fucking hard to watch over the others, even if he's not always very good at it, even if they don't always want him to.

"I don't like worrying you," he says after a moment. "And it's better when you're around. I really am happy. That's real, too." It's bad enough to make Jungkook worry over him, but Yoongi can't stand the idea that he might think any of this has been a lie. Just because the voice isn't gone doesn't mean it can stop this love. He doesn't think anything ever could.

Jungkook can feel his own eyes well up briefly at the sight of Yoongi's eyes, too bright and too wet. He can't deny that moments like this scare him. To hear the waver in any of his hyungs' voices — the way Jimin hesitates over the phone, the way Taehyung's anger rolls in like a storm. There's so much in the world that threatens to unseat each of them, and to Jungkook, there's no place that scares him more than with Yoongi. Knowing that his intuition was right, that all these months of watching Yoongi made it possible to pick out the moments where he wasn't fine.

But it's better to have it acknowledged, to have it identified for him. Only then, Jungkook thinks, can he really start to try and help.

"I don't like worrying you, either," Jungkook admits, the corners of his lips quirking. He remembers the rising flicker of Yoongi's anger upon first seeing the bruises on Jungkook's shoulders. There are still a couple, even now, on his lower back. Clumsier hits from a hyung who never has to take responsibility. He doesn't like how visible it all is, how impossible to hide. Doesn't like the strain it places on Yoongi, or the way his hands grow tight without relief.

Even then, Jungkook knows it's better that Yoongi be aware.

"But I'm so happy with you, Yoongi-ah. I'm always happy when I'm with you, no matter how hard things get."

Edited 2018-12-14 05:41 (UTC)

There are so many feelings rolling through Yoongi right now, so many things that layer over each other in ways that don't really make sense. He is happy, and he remembers, too, even after he found out what Jungkook goes through, he's still been happy. This can't be that different. Except that it's more shameful than that. Jungkook can't help what happens to him, but Yoongi should be able to control his own thoughts. And underneath the shame and the hurt, there's relief. It's embarrassing to say these things out loud, but it's good, too, a small bit of his burden eased by being able to share it.

"I want to know," he says softly. "I'd rather worry than not know." Even if it burns him up inside, even if fury threatens to overwhelm him, he can handle that if it means Jungkook doesn't have to be alone. And it's not like he loves Jungkook more than he's loved in return. He meant what he said, how much he loves how much Jungkook cares. So maybe this isn't that different. Maybe it's okay.

Maybe he should stop being a coward and be a little more honest.

"Sometimes it's worse than that. Not for a while now, but. Sometimes." Like everything else, it comes and goes. Most days aren't really that bad, a kind of low ache he's grown used to running underneath everything or a feeling like he's watching everything at a remove. He can handle that, even if he hates it. He lifts Jungkook's hand in his, presses a kiss to the back of it. "This is a terrible reward. I'm sorry."

"I know," Jungkook replies, barely more than a murmur. "I'm not planning on hiding anymore." In some ways, Jungkook still hates the feeling of weakness he gets whenever the bruises see the light of day. Aches he can deal with, the blows as well, but the stain on his skin always remains too long. It'd be one thing to deal with the pain in the moment, but he hates the reminders, hates the fact that he can't even remember the last time there wasn't at least some color marring his skin. Showing that to Yoongi now, the fact that the marks intrude on their intimacy, it still twists something deep inside of Jungkook that he can't quite pinpoint.

But worse than that is the idea of hiding anything from Yoongi, and so he lays it bare, always thinking of the first night Yoongi learned. How in spite of everything, he was still beautiful.

Jungkook wonders if he'll ever be able to Yoongi that same feeling of security. His gaze briefly breaks, given the ready excuse of soft lips to his hand. Yoongi is right; rather than a reward, this conversation feels like work. There's no instant relief. But he has to believe that shining a light on the scars will help down the road, avoiding pitfalls. Learning how to be more present.

"Don't apologize," Jungkook ushers in a whisper, thumb running over Yoongi's knuckle in steady strokes. "...what's it like when it's worse?"

Shame prickles underneath Yoongi's skin, running down his arms, across his cheeks, pulling tight in his stomach. For a moment, he wishes he hadn't brought it up after all. He's supposed to be the protector, not the one pulling Jungkook down with him. He shouldn't have to deal with this mess.

But he thinks, briefly, With me, and somehow that steels his resolve. Jungkook loves him. This is part of who he is, no matter how much he hates it or wishes it away. All of these moods and the thoughts, they're part of it and they're part of him, and Jungkook fell in love with him anyway. He deserves every part of him, however awful some of those parts are.

So he takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, lets the gentle brush of a thumb against his skin soothe him. "Like..." He bites his lip, trying to find the right words. "It's like when everything's too quiet. When there's no music. No color. Everything just is. And it's so tiring and it just doesn't..."

He drops his gaze, watching the soft stroke of Jungkook's thumb, comfortingly hypnotic. It seems safer than meeting his eyes. "It doesn't feel worth it," he says, "to keep going when everything is like that." For a moment, he's afraid, feeling like he's skirted too close to the truth, except that that is the truth and he wants to tell. It isn't comfortable, but it's honest and he doesn't want to hide either, not from Jungkook. "Like it would be easier not to exist." He frowns. "That sounds worse than it is."

It almost feels like the air is being punched out of his lungs. Yoongi mentions that sometimes it feels like it'd be easier not to exist, that it's not worth it to keep going, and the sensation of water rising suddenly feels like it's raised up to Jungkook's neck. Jungkook continues running his thumb steadily over Yoongi's cheek, trying not to let it show, but before he realizes it, there's a warm spot on the pillow underneath his cheek.

Damn. He doesn't want to show weakness in front of Yoongi. Doesn't want to expose anything that might make Yoongi feel that he can't come to Jungkook under any circumstance. But he can't deny being afraid at the prospect of Yoongi slipping through his fingers for reasons not entirely under their control. If it ever gets worse.

"Thank you for still existing, even when it's hard," Jungkook says, clearing his throat a second later. It feels sticky, his voice wavering with it. "It's got to be worth it, right? Once the worse moments pass, when the music returns. When you're less tired. There are always going to be better days in the future. Right, Yoongi-ah?"

I don't know how I would go on if you weren't here, Jungkook thinks to himself, but it feels too selfish to say. Too burdening. He lets his fingers roam where his words can't, smoothing down the side of Yoongi's neck, brushing up against his jaw.

Yoongi closes his eyes at Jungkook's touch, letting himself just feel it for a moment, helping to steady him. He hates seeing Jungkook upset more than anything, but he's grateful, too, that someone knows now. Putting words to it isn't easy, but it's in the world now, not just in his head, and maybe that will help. He hopes it will, at least, prays it will.

"Yes," he says quietly, making himself open his eyes. He won't let himself be that much of a coward, not now, no matter how hard it is to see Jungkook with tears in his eyes. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it. But it goes away. And... I have you. I have you. And now there's always music. I have so much to look forward to. There's so much we're going to do. I'll be okay."

It almost seems stupid to have brought it up at all in light of that. The future is so much brighter now than it's ever been before. There's so much possibility, so much he's ready for, longing for. The voice might still be there in the back of his head, but it's hard to imagine the color ever going out of the world again when he has Jungkook. Even if it ever does, he knows he has something now to pull him through, something worth living for. Giving up isn't an option anymore. No matter how bad it gets, he could never hurt Jungkook like that.

On the one hand, Jungkook wants so desperately to believe that it's true, that by simply being together, the silence will be staved off. That there will be sunshine to follow the rain. But it's too soon after learning all of this for him to completely let himself believe it, mind bending already towards the what ifs, to any weak spots in the ice. He doesn't think that Yoongi's dark days will disappear any bit as easily as his own encounters with his stepfather — if anything, they'll be harder, no clear line delineating when Yoongi might finally be free.

"Even if it just doesn't feel like it... please tell me?" Jungkook asks, shifting until both hands are able to reach Yoongi's jaw, brushing over his cheeks, warming them with the slide of skin against skin. "Even if I'm here. Even if you feel like you should be happy. If you're not, I just. I want to be there for you, Yoongi. I'll always pull you back."

He brushes one thumb carefully along the contour of Yoongi's lips before closing the distance and sealing the promise with a kiss, soft breath against skin as his leg slides to wrap around the back of Yoongi's knee, drawing him closer.

Yoongi leans into him, grateful to be drawn into a kiss, to be held close like this. It's a small respite from the conversation, but it's its own promise, too. He has this. No matter what happens next, no matter what demons his mind conjures up, he has Jungkook. Pulling through it alone has been almost unbearably hard at times, but maybe it will be easier now, with someone to take his hand and help him through it, or at least to give him a reason to make it to the other side.

"You will," he murmurs, reaching up to rest his hand on Jungkook's cheek in turn. "I'll tell you." It's a hard thing to say. It's hard enough to tell him all of this now when he's feeling better; getting the words out when he's in the middle of it sounds painful. He has to, though. He owes Jungkook the effort. "I promise. I'll try."

He mostly just wants to keep kissing him now. It would be nice to lose himself in his kiss, in the exhilaration of it, feeling too alive to think of all the times he didn't want to be. Still, if he's going to tell Jungkook these things, maybe he should start now. "You really don't think I'm selfish? I'm not... taking you away from the others?"

Even as he'd contemplated the conversations just moments ago, Yoongi's question still strikes Jungkook by surprise, and he stares for a few moments before he breaks into a smile. He doesn't want to make light of Yoongi's concern, but it's undeniably a ridiculous one, by Jungkook's estimation.

"Hey. I'm the one who gets to decide who I want to be with," Jungkook points out, leaning in to brush the tips of their noses together, glad for an opportunity to introduce a little levity. "You're my boyfriend. Of course you're going to want to spend as much time with me as you can. But you're not keeping me from anyone. You've never stopped me from hanging out with Taehyungie or Jiminie hyung."

Jungkook purses his lips together. "We're in love. Of course we're going to spend more time with each other. That's not selfish, that's just being in love." He glances off to the side, narrowing his eyes with a raise of his brow. "Besides, I'm pretty sure those two were just kidding around."

The answer comes as a relief, though Yoongi wasn't exactly expecting anything else. Of course Jungkook wouldn't think that of him. Still, it's nice to hear it from him directly and not just from Hoseok via half-panicked text conversation. As great as Hoseok's support is, it doesn't exactly have the same weight when it comes to this.

"I can't always tell," he says wryly. "I never know when they're serious." He spent so long worrying that, if Jungkook knew how he felt, it would ruin the dynamic of the group. In a way, that fear has only shifted into a different form, the idea that their being a couple changes things, too. And maybe it does, but he knows he'd rather that than not have this. The others will have to learn how to adjust. He just has to get his brain to accept that and convince his heart not to beat too fast when they tease.

"And I would never try to keep you from anyone." Except his father, maybe. "I just... want you to be happy."

There's a certain solemnity that remains in Yoongi's tone, even after Jungkook's attempts to clear the air, and it has Jungkook's smile fading just a touch. Not gone, but gentler, adjusting to the tone of the moment. What to Jungkook seems so obvious is distorted to Yoongi's eyes, offhand comments summoning buried demons. Distantly, Jungkook wonders if he should pull the other boys aside at some point in time, let them know that if they need more of Jungkook's time, they should ask him directly.

Not guilt Yoongi for wanting to spend time with his significant other.

Still, the thought feels too exposed, too invasive. Maybe it's better instead to guide Yoongi through the ins and outs of his other friendships, so he learns how to quiet those voices himself.

"If they get like that again, and you're not sure... just poke me, yeah?" Jungkook murmurs. "I know those two almost as well as I know you. It'd be hypocritical of them to talk about either of us being selfish, though. They spend way more time with each other than anyone else."

Jungkook reaches for Yoongi's hand, raising it until he can press his lips against the inside of Yoongi's wrist, pressing a tender kiss against the pulse. "And I want to spend more time with you than anyone else. You're the one who makes me happiest of all."

In the end, that's the only thing that matters. Maybe Taehyung and Jimin were joking and maybe they weren't, or maybe it was a little bit of both. Whatever the reason, Yoongi thinks, they can be annoyed with him if they want to be. They would get over it eventually. If Jungkook is happy, though, then he has nothing to worry about. That, he can believe.

He brushes his thumb against Jungkook's cheek, smiling fondly and shifting his head closer. "Then I don't care what they think anyway," he says, and it's mostly true. They're still his friends. It still matters. But this is the most important thing. It always will be. Besides, Jungkook is right. Taehyung and Jimin are practically bound to each other — the red string of fate, like Taehyung said the other day. They can't really judge if it's the same with him and Jungkook, if the two of them are tied up in each other, body and soul. It doesn't make either of them selfish, not to Yoongi. Maybe it's just that, love them though he might, it's easier for him to understand why someone would be jealous about not having access to Jungkook than to either of them.

Leaning in, he brushes a kiss against Jungkook's lips, soft and quick. "I love you," he says, closing the gap between them to kiss him again, deeper this time, pressing as close to him as he can. "Thank you." He's still vaguely embarrassed that any of this was necessary, but he's relieved, too, and grateful, lighter now than he was a few hours ago for having shared his fears. All he can do is hope he hasn't weighed Jungkook down too much in return.

Smiling against Jungkook's mouth, he drops his hand to tug gently at the other boy's shirt. "Do I get a reward? For talking about my feelings?"

A soft sigh slips between Jungkook's teeth as he feels Yoongi press himself closer, his heart beating in his ears as he parts his lips to receive Yoongi's kiss. All the small little signs are enough to allay his frayed nerves — the soft, serene tone of Yoongi's voice, the smile on his lips, the gentle brush of his thumb. Even if there will be days in their future that will be hard, something still feels permanently changed, for the better.

"I love you," Jungkook murmurs, breath punctuated with a quiet laugh. He's feeling suddenly shy, marveling at the way his pulse quickens even now, weeks since they started the relationship. There are times when being with Yoongi is as simple and thoughtless as breathing, companionable silence over homework, cuddles on the couch. Other times, he finds himself taking a step back, wondering at how his life was able to take such a turn. How everything looks and feels different, now that he's no longer alone.

Drawing in a shallow breath, Jungkook nods, biting down on his lower lip as he reaches for Yoongi's hand, nudging it higher, watching the way the fabric bunches against his wrist. He's been checking himself in the mirror lately, searching for bruises to help prepare himself for the looks from Yoongi's eyes. Today, they aren't so bad. Almost clear.

He might as well take advantage.

"What reward were you thinking of exactly, Min-ah?" Jungkook asks, face still within a breath's reach of Yoongi's.

Yoongi had a half-fixed idea of steering this conversation somewhere more pleasant, of more kisses and idle touches until they both felt better. When Jungkook's voice drops like that, speaking close and low, he changes his mind. Maybe he's not selfish, but sometimes Jungkook makes him feel greedy, like he can't ever get enough of him. But that, he's pretty sure, is a good thing. These days, he likes being alive, and he's not sure he ever feels more so than in Jungkook's embrace.

"You," he murmurs. He shifts his hand, slipping it under the shirt instead, fingertips grazing higher along Jungkook's ribs. It pulls the fabric higher still, but Yoongi wants more. A little at a time, his nerves over what he's said ebb away, giving way to a lightness, as if his burden has literally started to lift away with someone else's hands to help him carry it. Tonight's worries were baseless, and that goes a long way, too, to easing his mood, letting him relax into the simple pleasure of being here with Jungkook.

Besides, it's been a couple of days since they got to spend the night together. He doesn't want to waste that.

His thumb strokes along Jungkook's skin and he smiles, leaning in for another, briefer kiss. "I've been wanting to touch you all week." It's only Wednesday, but he feels like that's beside the point. Kissing Jungkook is much more important than acknowledging his own impatience.

Tempted though Jungkook is to lift himself off of the mattress and shed his shirt immediately, there's a different kind of pleasure that comes from taking it slow, each movement tortuous and never quite enough. A hand snakes its way around Yoongi's waist, fingers tracing along his spine, dragging his shirt higher to expose soft skin. The touches are feather light before he suddenly presses with his fingertips, firm and sure, a tenuto to hold him close.

"Do you know how hard it is?" Jungkook whispers, lips pursed in a smile as his gaze fans down, traces along the line of Yoongi's collarbone. "Every day that I don't get to touch you? I never thought I could need someone so much."

Impatience gives way to action as Jungkook leans in with a quick intake of breath before their lips meet. His leg shifts, seeking the narrow space between Yoongi's legs until his thigh is pressed up against him with a gentle, steady pressure.

He pulls back just enough to start trailing tender kisses along the line of Yoongi's jaw, against the delicate skin under his chin. "It drives me crazy, seeing you in the halls. Being in the classroom together. Just seeing your texts," he laughs.

Every moment that passes, it gets easier to smile and mean it entirely, Yoongi's lips curving almost into a smirk as he tips his head back for Jungkook. "I know," he sighs. "Mm, I like that." He rolls his hips against Jungkook's thigh, thumb finding his nipple and tracing slow circles. Even as he feels better, he's still feeling a little raw, almost fragile, and there's something nice about Jungkook taking the lead as if to compensate; at the same time, he wants a bit of control for himself, too.

Exhaling slowly, he closes his eyes, enjoying the slow, soft kisses against his skin. "Those texts are torture," he adds, laughing a little. "I get so fucking hard thinking about you. But I don't want to stop." Maybe that's masochistic of him. He'd rather the torture of reading those texts and imagining all the things he could be doing to and with Jungkook than not to have that. It makes class a hell of a lot more interesting. It's dangerous, he knows. The last thing they need is to get caught sending each other messages like that by an irritated teacher. Still, it's worth the risk, just like sneaking out of class to meet in the bathroom is.

Hips rolling again, he lets out a small, soft sound, wanting more even as he likes taking their time this way. "I like driving you crazy. Like you thinking about me."

The circle of a thumb around Jungkook's nipple is enough to elicit a small gasp, lips parting from damp skin. He hikes his leg just a little higher, in time with the way that Yoongi rolls his hips, already feeling dizzy from the sheer want made clear in Yoongi's actions. Jungkook never feels that he's particularly lacking in confidence, but around Yoongi, he finds it in spades — a low growl lies hidden in the back of his throat as he leans in with renewed attention, gently pulling skin between his teeth. He's tempted to leave a mark, feels his stomach twist at the very thought.

But he doesn't, yet. Needs to wait for permission granted.

"I get hard, too," he admits on an exhale, pressing his nose against skin to soothe the places inflamed by the edge of his teeth. Breathes in deep, never getting enough of the way Yoongi's skin smells. "I try to hide it, but it's... god, sometimes I don't even care if anyone sees. Feels good. S'nice, imagining... how you'd look if you were under the desk, sucking me off." His cheeks flare red, not yet accustomed to being so bold with his words. Jungkook glances up, lips parted as he watches for Yoongi's reaction.

Waits and hopes that Yoongi will take charge.

Yoongi's just pulling his hand away from Jungkook's chest, ready to place it encouragingly at the back of his head; the careful pull of teeth, the way fingertips dig into his back, he like this, wants more of it. But then Jungkook says that, and Yoongi glances down to find him watching, waiting, expectant, cheeks flushed from his words. Thoughts of anything else leave his head. There's something about the way Jungkook looks like this, the contrast of that innocent blush and arousal dark eyes, that Yoongi finds incredibly appealing.

He flushes in turn, lifting his hand to Jungkook's cheek as he leans in to kiss him hungrily, nudging gently with his hips until he can turn them both over so Jungkook is on his back. Now he's imagining it, too, just for a moment, before he's thinking again of what Jungkook said last week instead. "I would," he says, sliding a hand back under Jungkook's shirt, fingers splaying against his ribs. "If we could get away with it. But I like hearing you and you'd have to be quiet. Might be better in our classroom." He can't help thinking about it, the two of them in their special hiding place; the others would have no idea. Part of him likes the idea of leaving the door unlocked so any of them could happen in, but more than that, he just wants Jungkook to be entirely his.

He pulls away from another kiss, ducking his head and tugging at Jungkook's shirt enough that he can suck gently along his collarbone. "At the piano, maybe," he says, looking up again, cheeks and ears hot with something like embarrassment even as the thought of it only makes him harder. "You on the bench, me on my knees."

There's a brief flicker of victory that crosses Jungkook's features when Yoongi nudges against him with his hips, pushing him onto his back. This position might be the one Jungkook likes most — at Yoongi's mercy, his weight a gentle comfort, gravity forcing their bodies to press flush, so that he can feel every last detail. Every breath. He lets his limbs splay comfortably, and only when Yoongi's hand hikes higher does Jungkook find his concentration stuttering at the mention of being intimate in the classroom.

It doesn't take much for Jungkook to conjure the image, practically feeling the cool, hard surface of the bench underneath naked thighs, his trousers pooling by his calves, Yoongi's fingers splayed over rosy knees. Jungkook's eyes flutter to a close, shallow breaths on his lips as a hand instinctively reaches up to thread through Yoongi's hair, carding, tugging at the strands. Pulling him closer, moaning at the feel of warm lips pulling at his skin.

"I want that," he gasps, his right leg kicking up and heel pressing into the mattress, while the opposite remains pinned under Yoongi's weight, hips rocking. Maybe he should feel worse than he does at the thought of using their shared space so selfishly — maybe they shouldn't, knowing that it might finally be the piece that tips the scale, makes their friends uncomfortable.

But it's also their place, the primary backdrop for their friendship. The place where Jungkook fell in love.

"Want this," he adds, groaning as Yoongi sucks again at his collarbone, pressing firm fingertips against Yoongi's neck. "Want you on my skin."

Yoongi has been careful so far. Whatever his own instinctive desires, he hasn't yet left a mark that didn't fade moments after he made it. Anything around Jungkook's neck might call attention they don't want from people who don't deserve any piece of this. The only thing about these moments that can linger are the memories.

But a collarbone can be hidden, especially in winter.

Yoongi whines into his skin, heat and pressure gathering along his spine at the deft pull of fingers in his hair, at the thought of marking Jungkook. He sucks a little harder, tongue smoothing over the spot soothingly afterward, teeth skating over sensitive skin a moment later. "Want. Want to mark you," he admits. If Jungkook wants him on his skin, then Yoongi wants to give him that. He works at his skin, hips rocking back against Jungkook's in answer, until he draws back enough to look and see the pink and purple blossoming along the jut of his collarbone. That, he thinks, is better. If there are going to be bruises, he wants them to be the ones he's left out of love.

And if Jungkook wants Yoongi to go down on him in the classroom, he can do that, too. The others never have to know.

He presses the pad of his thumb gently against the spot, lifting his head to kiss Jungkook again. "Wanna make you mine."

Though the bruises may match in color, everything else is starkly different. At the hands of his stepfather, fists are the fastest means to shut Jungkook in; they rain down from all sides, until the only means of defense is to curl in a corner, arms raised, head tucked in. He's never satisfied until there's no more noise. Until Jungkook's gaze grows dull, no longer fixed on a point in the distance. There are times when Jungkook distantly wonders what his father does with all of that life siphoned away.

Wonders, if nothing else, whether the sense of power is what pulls him through to the next day.

But to be marked by Yoongi is different. Heated lips meet damp skin, tongue laving and teeth worrying, as though trying to pierce through and draw out every part of Jungkook that he's kept buried for so long. Jungkook gasps, his toes curling tight at the simple sensation of being drawn out through the surface of his skin, and an ache that settles somewhere deep in his chest. For a bruise to shift now into a symbol of love — Jungkook can't imagine anything better.

He glances up when Yoongi pulls away, his arms trembling as he raises a hand to meet Yoongi's. He can't see the bruise, but he trusts that Yoongi's found a way. For once, Jungkook looks forward to looking in the mirror tonight.

"I've already been yours," Jungkook breathes, eyes slightly wet as he nods. "I think I was meant to be yours."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject