lovestrippedbare | 𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕪

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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.

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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."

Bruises are just temporary. Yoongi gets them all the time, pale skin bruising readily when he bumps into desks or fails to look where he's going, his thoughts elsewhere as always. Most of them are meaningless. Jungkook's, though, are laden with meaning, intent behind each one. If Yoongi can leave even one that means love instead of hate, it's a start.

Jungkook's words, too, are technically temporary, fading from the air as soon as they're spoken. The meaning, though, stays. There are tears in his eyes, but he doesn't look sad this time. He's breathtaking like this, expression full of love, speaking words Yoongi knows he won't forget. So much in his life feels so transitory, and he wants this, something solid and real and permanent, love that might bruise but won't ever break.

"You were," he says, soft, sincere. If it's naive to say so, he doesn't care. If soulmates are a real thing, then Jungkook is his. He's not sure there's any other explanation for how two people can find each other and fit together so perfectly, hearts and bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces. "You are. Just like I'm yours." He turns his hand just enough to hold Jungkook's. Tender as the moment is, it does nothing to dim his desire; if anything, it just makes him want Jungkook all the more, desperate to make him feel good. He leans down to kiss him again, deep and slow, tongue stroking into Jungkook's mouth until he moans.

Yoongi's his, the words echoing repeatedly in Jungkook's mind as he returns the kiss, free hand trailing up Yoongi's spine until he's able to rest it by the base of Yoongi's neck. He grapples with contrasting feelings — the sudden, possessive burn that keeps his fingers grasped close warring with the tender stillness that reflects the fragile words shared only minutes ago. He lets out a soft whimper against Yoongi's lips, knows that it's only a matter of time until he'll fall apart again, only ever at Yoongi's hands.

"You're mine," he whispers when they both pull back for air, his chest heaving as impatient hands make their way to the hem of Yoongi's shirt, hiking it up. Jungkook doesn't want to rush, but every second spent without skin to skin feels like an ache now, an unnecessary barrier placed between the both of them. "I still can't believe it sometimes. Yoongi-ah."

He sighs, rocking his hips upward, briefly lifting them off of the mattress as he seeks further friction, the length of him already hard where it's pressed against Yoongi's thigh.

"God, you're so hot," Jungkook laughs, briefly biting his lower lip. "No wonder I can't ever concentrate."

Pulling away, even for a moment, is torturous, but Yoongi raises himself up all the same, just enough to let Jungkook pull the shirt over his head. It's worth it to start getting undressed. He's more invested in getting Jungkook naked, but this is still a good start. Mine is burned into his heart, perfect, and if he's feeling a little possessive, it actually seems to him like a good antidote to earlier. It's hard to worry about being selfish when Jungkook reacts so beautifully to being claimed. Besides, it's mutual.

"Not as hot as you," he says, hand slipping down between them to palm Jungkook through his pants. It's not intended to be self-deprecating. Yoongi doesn't lack for confidence in his physical appearance, however much he lacks it in other areas. It's just that, as far as he's concerned, Jungkook is hotter, a simple fact. "Concentrating is overrated anyway. Think about me instead. It's more fun." He probably shouldn't be encouraging that, especially when he knows Jungkook mostly has to mean at school, but he can't help it. Break is so close and he's anxious to be done with classes for a while, to have more time for each other.

As enjoyable as it is to touch Jungkook in any way, Yoongi has to stop. He wants direct contact much more, and he wants Jungkook's shirt off. Hand sliding higher to the hem of his shirt, Yoongi slides it up, sitting up to give himself room to tug at the fabric with both hands. "Off, now."

"That's ridiculous. You haven't seen what you look like when we're together like this," Jungkook breathes, his eyes fluttering shut at the sudden, gentle pressure of a palm against his erection, rolling his hips up to meet the touch. The moans that fall from his lips register to his ears a second later — sometimes it startles Jungkook to hear just how desperate he sounds, constantly on the cusp of unraveling in Yoongi's hands. His ears burn from a mixture of embarrassment and a latent longing to perform, to draw everything out for his partner.

There are some who say that one's attractiveness is drawn out when they're in love, and Jungkook has no doubt that this is the case for him.

"I don't know if there's ever a time now when I'm not thinking about you," Jungkook admits, breath slipping between his lips as he pushes himself up to his elbows, pressing a hungry kiss against Yoongi's lips as he starts to hike his own shirt up, lifting the hem above his shoulders before pulling back to tug it off with a snap of static. As soon as the fabric whispers against the bed, Jungkook smooths his palms up against Yoongi's obliques, then around to the shoulder blades, pulling him closer. "When I wake. During class. At the dinner table." He ducks in, nipping at Yoongi's lower lip.

"Every night before I sleep."

Until this, Yoongi hadn't considered what he might look like to Jungkook at a time like this. If it's anything like how Jungkook looks to him, maybe he isn't entirely wrong. Something about the intimacy of these moments just makes him that much more attractive, some combination of vulnerability and knowing the part Yoongi plays in it himself making Jungkook just about seem to glow. No one else gets to know just how incredibly gorgeous Jungkook really is. Maybe Yoongi is more attractive than he thinks himself. If that's true only in Jungkook's eyes, that's all that matters.

Jungkook pulls him close and Yoongi leans into him until they're back on the mattress, the slight tug of teeth drawing a soft moan from him. It's a heady thought, to know he occupies Jungkook's mind as thoroughly as the other boy does his own. When they can't meet in person, he thinks, they must still meet in dreams, entangled even in their thoughts. Sometimes it's perfectly innocent. He thinks of Jungkook before he sleeps, too, drifting off to thoughts of warm arms holding him close and the rhythm of gentle, steady breaths. He wants to spend the rest of his life falling asleep in those arms, but for now, the few times a week they manage to steal will have to be enough.

Kissing him, Yoongi traces his fingers down Jungkook's chest to his stomach and lower until he can unfasten the button on his pants, tugging haphazardly at the zipper. He ducks his head to press a kiss to Jungkook's jaw, his neck, lingering at the fluttering of his pulse. "What do you think about? When you're thinking about me."

There's a certain amount of space that the movement demands, the tease of fingers offering time for a breath or two. Jungkook grins, his cheeks already tingling from the excitement as he relaxes heavily against the mattress, a soft whimper at the press of lips against his neck. He's almost tempted to ask to be marked again, but for now, there's still a day of class ahead of them — one more day that they'll have to be especially careful in avoiding extra attention. Maybe, he thinks with a sudden rush, they'll be able to do more when they're on break.

He wonders if they can get away with it. If his mother and father will even notice.

"Sometimes it's... the way your fingers feel between mine," he explains, drawing one hand up to trace along the curve of Yoongi's shoulder, palm and fingers to skin. "Or how your back fits perfectly against mine. The steady rhythm of your breath once you've fallen asleep. Sometimes, it's the taste of your lips and the weight of your hands on my shoulders when we meet at school. The sound of your voice when your words are just for me. Sometimes it's..."

Jungkook laughs again, barely more than a breath as he arches his back, giving Yoongi space to nudge his pants down. "Your hands tight around my wrists, holding me down. Replacing your fingers with rope. How I'd tug, trying to get to you, and you'd... god, you'd probably laugh and try to drive me crazier." Jungkook chews briefly on his lower lip, complexion suddenly deepening in a flush. "Sometimes I imagine what it'd be like to be fucked by you."

Yoongi doesn't know what he was expecting, exactly, dirty talk or something sweet, but he gets both. There's something comforting about it, as he carefully works Jungkook's clothes down his legs, that they think about the same things. That they fall asleep wishing they were doing so together. There are times when all he wants is to fast forward through the years until they can have that every night, until they don't ever have to be parted. That thought never lasts long, though; there's too much he wants to experience in the meanwhile to make even that worth it.

Any thoughts of that flicker and fade away at once, though, as Jungkook continues, as Yoongi finishes undressing him. His own cheeks red, he crawls back up the bed and over Jungkook, unable to resist kissing him, hands wandering over hip and thigh. The thought of it, of any of it, of Jungkook tied down to his bed or writhing underneath him, how it would feel to be inside of him — for a minute, the only answer he can manage is in the desperation of his kiss.

"Is that what you want?" he asks when he draws back. Tempting though it is to start kissing his way down Jungkook's body, he wants to see him now when he answers. "You want me to fuck you?" Just saying it gets under his skin, makes him feel like his whole body is alight with desire. He hasn't let himself think about it too much, remembering what Jin said about how it's okay if they never do that. He hasn't wanted to push Jungkook into anything uncomfortable for him. But, god, he wants that. Even knowing he has no idea what he's doing, he doesn't care. He'll figure it out, if that's what they both want.

Jungkook swears that there's a half-second when Yoongi stalls, when he suddenly wonders if he's stepped too far. While he doesn't consider himself very informed on the topic, Jungkook has sense enough to know that sex is a very personal thing — that preferences may not always align, that even just the influence of society's conservatism can be off-putting for activities that people might otherwise explore. He hasn't had the time yet to sit with Yoongi and really talk about all of their fantasies or their boundaries. Mostly, he's been letting Yoongi take the lead.

It comes as a relief when suddenly, there's a rush of lips against his own, the feel of a soft tongue sweeping across his teeth and heated breath punctuating the contact. Jungkook brings up a trembling hand to cup the back of Yoongi's neck, fingertips grasping at skin and soft strands of hair. By the time they come up for air again, Jungkook feels the flush spreading all the way down to his chest.

Then Yoongi asks him, voice pitched low, and Jungkook practically shudders in Yoongi's arms. He searches Yoongi's gaze, lips parted and words blanking for a few seconds too long before he nods, clumsy and eager. Jungkook swallows thickly; his mouth feels suddenly dry. "Yeah," he breathes, eyes heavily lidded as his gaze wavers between Yoongi's eyes and his lips. "I want you to fuck me. Want to feel you inside of me. I want that so badly, Yoongi-ah."

It's the kind of thing Yoongi thinks they should probably just have a talk about, but somehow it always feels easier to discuss what they really want when they're here like this, already in various states of undress. When he's so plainly desperate to touch and be touched, nothing seems quite as embarrassing or beyond reach and the words don't feel so out of place.

Just hearing Jungkook say that has his heart racing, cock straining against his pants, every bit as eager. "I want that," he says. It's not just that he wants to give Jungkook whatever he wants, although that's part of it. He just wants. He's tried not to think about it too much, not wanting to put any pressure on him, but sometimes it's impossible to keep his imagination from wandering. "Fuck, I want to be inside of you." He wants to add If you're sure, but Jungkook sounds pretty fucking certain.

He leans in for another kiss, a whine rising in his throat as his fingers trail higher along Jungkook's thigh to wrap around his cock, stroking gently. "I didn't want you to think... I mean, if you didn't want to, I would understand. But..." He wants it, all the more for having heard Jungkook say he wants it, too.

To hear Yoongi express his desire in words comes as a wash of relief, if not a surprise. There are times when everything is more easily expressed in a touch, no fumbling when lips meet — or perhaps in a look, eyes dark with want. But the words still have their place, permission explicitly granted to cross the line, and Jungkook nearly writhes when he hears the confirmation from Yoongi, low against his ear. Yoongi wants to fuck him. Yoongi wants to be inside of him. Any reservation, any slight flicker of shame that crossed his mind in prior fantasies, it all fades away now in Yoongi's presence.

"Fuck," he groans, gasping as he rolls his hips, chasing after the friction of Yoongi's hand. His brows are painfully knit, gaze flickering down to where Yoongi's hand is wrapped around him, pale skin surrounding the flushed tip of his cock. Even in the midst of everything else coursing through his mind, Jungkook can't help but indulge himself just a little, pushing up and pulling away, watching the way he disappears against Yoongi's fingers. He's not sure if he'll ever be able to watch Yoongi's hands again without thinking at least a little of moments like these.

Before giving an answer, Jungkook leans up and off the bed, crashing up against Yoongi's lips, sweeping his tongue along the seam. "I didn't know if you'd want it either," Jungkook breathes, a slight apology in his tone that fades into a whine. "I should've asked... if you were comfortable with that. But fuck, Yoongi, I think about it so much."

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