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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"Mm-hmm," Yoongi says, pleased with himself and not troubling to hide it. Every sound, every shiver. just fuels him. He drags his tongue along Jungkook's thigh, lifting his head to look at him, gaze raking along the length of him before he meets his eyes. "You didn't think I was going to tie you down and then give you what you want immediately, did you?"

As far as he can tell, though, this is what Jungkook wants, something so good it's just this side of torture, to be entirely at Yoongi's mercy, made to wait on his whim. As much as Yoongi wants to make him come, he wants this, too, to draw it out and also to continue where he is, making a mark where no one but himself and Jungkook will ever be able to see it. Even if it doesn't last long, they'll know it was there. That he was here.

He misses the feeling of Jungkook's hands on him, but there will be time for that later, he figures. If anything, it might be all the better for having had to wait.

"I'd be disappointed if you did," Jungkook breathes, giving both ties another tug, causing the silk to dig in a little against his wrists. While not exactly comfortable, Jungkook can't say that he entirely dislikes it either — the way that sensation is just a touch cut off, the way his skin prickles. It makes him wonder just how much further they can take things. A blindfold, maybe. A hand pressed against his throat.

Jungkook's head lolls back as he imagines it, a tremble passing through his thighs at the heat there, searing against the contrast of the evening air.

"Yoongi-ah, please," Jungkook pleads, half for the effect and half in true desperation, gasping when his cock throbs again at a stronger pull of skin between teeth. "God, your mouth... sometimes I swear I could come from your kisses alone. Will you."

He cants his head, getting a better look at Yoongi, the curve of a grin on those lips. "Will you touch yourself? Just. If I can't, I..."

That's all the confirmation Yoongi needs to know he's doing this right — or, more pertinently, that he's doing what Jungkook wants of him. Yoongi might be the one with full use of his hands right now, but the control is shared. He'd stop whatever he's doing in an instant if Jungkook asked him to.

Instead, he says please like a prayer and Yoongi almost caves on the spot, ready to do whatever's asked of him. The request itself makes that all the easier. He still delays a little, lifting his head to admire the mark he's made, brushing his fingers gently over the dark red stain he's left behind. His hand traces over Jungkook's hip before he finally pulls back, sitting between his legs.

He thinks, briefly, that he should refuse, at least for a little while, if only to hear Jungkook beg. Even that one plea, even the thought of it, though, has him aching for some kind of relief. "You don't want me to touch you instead?" he asks. It's difficult to look at Jungkook, to see the way his cock presses against his abdomen, and not want to bend over him now, to trace every vein with his tongue, and he only has so much willpower. What little he has left goes to resisting that; there isn't enough to keep him from touching himself, too, fingers wrapping around his hard length. He bites his lip, stroking firmly, a whine in his throat. "Fuck, Jungkook."

There's too much to take in all at once, the cool brush of air against damp skin as Yoongi withdraws, the deep red flush that's already risen to the surface of the skin. Jungkook licks his lips, suddenly heady with the thought that only Yoongi can ever touch him there — only Yoongi will ever leave a mark that looks like that, clearly left from the lingering touch of lips and tongue.

But no amount of a mark can keep Jungkook's eyes from roving over to Yoongi as he starts to stroke himself, legs pale and lean, fingers long and gripped tight. He drinks in every last detail — the perfect lines of Yoongi's body, shadows cast from various angles, the contrast of skin to skin. The way his lip looks, pursed underneath the press of teeth.

"Of course I want you to touch me," Jungkook murmurs, dizzy from the sight, his vision swimming. He can feel himself leaking already; the absence of touch is almost painful. "But watching you is... everything. Fuck, Yoongi. I wanna taste you so badly."

Touching himself isn't the same, isn't as good, as having Jungkook's hands on him, but it's still good, still a relief after so much waiting. Knowing that Jungkook is watching only makes it better. Head dropping back, he takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, shaky with desire. For a moment, he thinks how they have all night together, how he could bring himself to completion now and still be ready for Jungkook to touch him later.

So it's tempting to keep going until Jungkook says that. He's half-forgotten that he's meant to be withholding right now, driving Jungkook wild by keeping him from what he wants. It doesn't count, he decides, if that's what he wants, too.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, nodding. "Want your mouth on me. Gguk..." His breath coming soft and shallow, he looks up at Jungkook through heavily lidded eyes, trying to determine if it's even possible for Jungkook to suck him off now at that angle. It's hard to think straight, though, and he decides that they'll just figure it out. With a soft whine, he slows and stops touching himself to crawl up the bed over Jungkook, leaning down for a kiss. "Do you think you can?"

Jungkook can't help but wonder if there's a part of Yoongi that's drawn to the performative aspect of touching himself with an eager audience. It almost feels inevitable with the way Yoongi's head tilts back, exposing the long line of his neck, his entire body on display. Perhaps, Jungkook thinks, it's similar to the slight buzz of his skin now, the way he feels so exposed, no option to even pull his arms in to guard himself. Around anyone else, it'd be terrifying.

With Yoongi, it's addictive.

For a moment, all other thoughts leave Jungkook's mind as he watches Yoongi crawl closer, palms sinking shallowly against the sheets, wrinkling them as he approaches. Yoongi is perilously close, enough that Jungkook can feel the warmth of his body, if not actual contact — only his lips find purchase as Yoongi leans in for a kiss. Jungkook's teeth drag lightly against Yoongi's lip, a futile effort to keep him close.

"I- I think I can," he says on an exhale, head swimming at the thought of sucking Yoongi off like this, tied up to the bed, hands held away. "Want to try. Want you to use my mouth."

Just the idea of it, just those words, leave Yoongi aching, desire pulling tight in his abdomen and down his spine. He's not sure he's thinking clearly at all, just letting how much he wants this guide him through figuring it out.

Easing up onto his knees, he straddles Jungkook's chest and reaches down to run a hand through his hair. Not that long ago, it had never even occurred to him that tying Jungkook up was a thing he might want to do. Now he kneels over him, taking in the sight of Jungkook under him, vulnerable and dazed and so eager, tugging thoughtlessly at his bonds, and he knows they'll be doing this again. "Still okay?" he asks, brushing his fingertips against Jungkook's wrist. Already there's a little red around the edges where his writhing has the tie chafing against his skin, but it doesn't look bad yet, not enough for them to stop, not if they don't want to.

"If it gets to be too much," he adds, then pauses, unsure how to continue. It's not like Jungkook's going to be able to talk with a mouth full of cock, but they need some kind of signal so he doesn't overwhelm him beyond what he can handle. "Tug on the ties three times, okay? Quickly, like knocking. And I'll stop." He wraps his hand around himself again, the other clinging to the headboard, as he leans forward to brush the head against Jungkook's lips, a groan slipping from his lips at the sensation.

Edited 2018-12-20 22:39 (UTC)

When Yoongi asks how Jungkook is faring, he nods instinctively. No matter how torturous the wait can get, there's no doubt in Jungkook's mind that all of this is okay. More than okay. There's so much to drink in during every second; Jungkook never wants it to stop. Until now, moments of intimacy have fallen under either extremely — some shared under the rush of excitement, passionate and at times almost frenzied, while others are slow and tender, the fire never fully stoked.

This feels different — fire under his skin, a storm in his veins, all while everything remains just slightly out of reach. It's a different kind of desire, an ache that drives deep into his spine.

Three tugs, he reminds himself, relaxing both hands for emphasis. Glances up to meet Yoongi's gaze where he's stood above, and shifting higher on the mattress to give Yoongi easier access. His lips part readily when he feels the brush of Yoongi's cock, tongue instinctively swiping out to taste, a soft moan slipping unbidden.

Energy suddenly renewed, Jungkook leans forward to take more of Yoongi's cock between his lips, pushing himself forward until he can feel a tickle of hair against his nose. Even having only been denied for a couple minutes at most, the sudden contact creates a rush; Jungkook keeps his lips tightly shut, tongue pressed up against veins and working his best to make things tight. Not once does he look away from Yoongi's eyes.

They all joke about Jungkook being a fast learner, but Yoongi is pretty sure this is his favorite of all the skills Jungkook has picked up along the way, or at least tied for first with piano. His mouth is so tight and hot around him and he takes him so deep, and all Yoongi can do is grip the headboard, watching first the way his cock disappears between slick lips and then Jungkook's eyes. After so much waiting, it's such a fucking relief to feel anything at all around him, let alone this.

The way Jungkook watches him, too, is so heady and, at the same time, a relief in its own right. If anything goes wrong, he thinks he'll be able to see it in his gaze even without any signals. It makes this feel safer, makes him feel comfortable enough to experiment. One hand dropping down to the back of Jungkook's head to help support him, he rolls his hips, slow and careful, groaning at the way Jungkook sinks down around him. "Fuck, you feel so good," he murmurs. "You're so good at this."

It takes a moment before Yoongi moves — an extended period where their gazes meet, and in that moment Jungkook swears that there are words shared, even in the midst of silence. He relaxes with the feel of fingers threading through his hair, supporting him as Yoongi rolls his hips, cock sliding forward and back against Jungkook's lips. The movement spurs Jungkook to move his tongue, lapping and sucking as well as he can, the tip of his tongue tracing along the swell of the head. His own body aches for want of touch, and Jungkook moans as his own hips buck slightly, tailbone clumsily sliding against the mattress. Fingers close into fists; wrists gently pull against their restraints.

Jungkook isn't sure which he clings to more desperately — the compliment or the heavy weight against his tongue. Either way, he breathes in deep, chest heaving as he pushes down over Yoongi's erection, tears welling in his eyes as he feels the tip hit the back of his throat. He pulls one thumb in under his fingers, fighting off any impulse to gag, instead letting a growl reverberate deep in his throat.

He's not sure how easily he can get Yoongi to come, but he certainly wants to try.

Yoongi exhales sharply, grip on the headboard tightening so he won't pull Jungkook's hair instead. Tempting though it is to tug, he wants to give him room to move if he needs to, to pull back some if it gets to be too much. Judging by Jungkook's reaction, though, he's not sure that's going to be a problem. There are tears in his eyes, but if anything, he looks like he's enjoying this almost as much as Yoongi is. It makes him feel better about pushing him a little more, hips rocking as he tries to find a rhythm and the right depth, a desperate moan pulled from his throat as Jungkook takes him deeper.

"So good," he whimpers. "Fuck, Gguk, you're so beautiful. So hot." He can feel every noise, every swallow, lost in the sensations and the sight as Jungkook sucks at him. He lets go of the headboard, reaching down to wipe a tear from Jungkook's cheek, thumb running gently over flushed skin. With the perfect wet suction of his mouth and the way Jungkook sounds right now, he's not sure how long he's going to make it, but he intends to enjoy every last second of it. "Is it good? You like that?"

He's pretty sure of the answer, but he likes the noises Jungkook makes and the enthusiasm with which he responds. There's something utterly intoxicating about this, the juxtaposition of control and vulnerability, of having Jungkook at his mercy and knowing he's loving every moment. With Jungkook gazing up at him like this, even through the haze of pleasure, it's hard to feel anything but loved and more wanted than he's ever been in his life.

Jungkook whines around Yoongi's cock by way of response, not daring to pull back, not wanting to interrupt the slight keen that he hears in Yoongi's voice. Everything is heady, from the deep taste of Yoongi on his tongue to the hands wrapped tight around the headboard. His shoulders are already aching; he'll probably need to stretch him out first, the next time they try this. Because, if their enthusiasm serves as any indication, there will be a next time.

When the pad of Yoongi's thumb brushes against his cheek, Jungkook's eyes slide to a close, enjoying a touch just slightly warmer than his own skin. Without sight to distract him, he takes his time sucking at Yoongi's cock, making sure to lean in whenever he feels the tilt of Yoongi's hips. He whines at the questions — of course he likes this, how could he not — and tries to imagine how Yoongi's ass might feel now, whether or not his thighs are trembling at all, the usual tells that have Jungkook working with renewed energy.

Without touch to guide him, Jungkook can only open his eyes again, staring under wet lashes and taking Yoongi in deep again, swallowing around him, a soft rumble in his throat. Just watching the way Yoongi's lips part, rosy and still swollen from earlier kisses.

He's so beautiful, gaze both distant and penetrating, lost in the thick of desire.

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 —"

Whenever they're close, it seems that the pace is hastened, a rising tempo and uneven rhythm. Jungkook's hands ball into fists, moaning as he sucks at Yoongi's cock, bobbing himself a little faster, intent on carrying the pleasure through to the end. Seeing the way that Yoongi's hips cant, the way that he's quickly losing control, it's about the hottest thing Jungkook's ever seen. Now, more than any point previously, he finds himself lamenting the ties around his wrists, wishes that he could put his hands on Yoongi to feel everything. The trembling, the heat on his skin.

The sight of Yoongi's hands gripping the headboard pulls a sudden vision of hands around Jungkook's neck, gentle in their brush but with hard intent.

For now, Yoongi's hands stop at Jungkook's hair, stuttering tugs at the strands until Jungkook can hear the sharp breath drawn between Yoongi's lips. He's close — Jungkook would have known from the movements alone — and Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the sudden flood of warmth in his mouth, hard against the back of his throat.

He's still clumsy at this part, holding back a cough as Jungkook manages a small swallow, pulling off shortly after to gasp for air. He can feel the tears trailing down his cheeks and hopes that Yoongi doesn't mind or misinterpret them for discomfort. Feeling a trail of warmth down the side of his chin, Jungkook laughs, hanging his head for only half a second. He probably looks pretty wrecked.

Then again, so does Yoongi, but in the best of ways. Eyes lifting to meet Yoongi's gaze, Jungkook does his best to lean forward again, pressing a gentle kiss to Yoongi's thigh. "You came for me," he murmurs, tone awed. "Yoongi-ah."

For a few moments, all Yoongi can do is stay where he is, thighs protesting his staying aloft as he tries to catch his breath. It's the way Jungkook looks that pulls him just enough out of his daze to lower himself again, lying down on his side next to Jungkook, propped up half on top of him. He wants to see him, to take in every last detail, the soft smile and the shining eyes, the color high across his cheeks, lips swollen and come dripping down his chin. He reaches out to run his thumb gently over Jungkook's lower lip and down along his jaw, wiping him clean as best he can. "Always for you," he says softly, leaning in for a kiss. "You're incredible."

Running his hand slowly down over Jungkook's chest, he teases his fingertips across his abdomen. "You're so fucking hot right now. Always, but right now, fuck." Maybe there is something a little, if not selfish, then at least self-centered about that, but Yoongi doubts anyone could blame him. Jungkook is a beautiful mess, disheveled and wrecked, and that's hot enough in itself, but it's all the better to him for knowing it's because of him. That he did this. That no one else gets to see, let alone have this effect on Jungkook. "Almost wish I could take a picture for when you're not here."

None of this is a position that Jungkook would have expected to find himself in, months ago. Sexuality as a whole never seemed to matter until there was someone there who was an object of his desire, and even then, the floodgates couldn't open until there was permission. Now, he's not sure that he can ever close those doors again, too caught up in imagining more ways that the both of them can explore one another. More ways in which he wants to see Yoongi. Experiences that they can have together.

His cheeks are flared with heat when Yoongi leans in for a kiss, thinking of how desperate he must look right now. It wouldn't be exactly accurate to say that Jungkook feels ashamed, but there's no doubt that shame plays somewhat into his bashfulness and exhilaration alike. He wanted to be used. Wanted to solely be used to heighten Yoongi's pleasure.

"I love the way you taste, Yoongi-ah," he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut at the feel of fingertips skimming over chest and abdomen. "Love the way your cock feels on my tongue. The way you pull on my hair when you're about to come." His eyes gradually open, hazy as they rest their gaze on Yoongi. "You can take a picture, if you want. I'm all yours."

Yoongi watches him intently, trying to tuck away every detail for later, trying to commit to memory everything that Jungkook likes so he can do it again next time. "I like that, too," he says, "when you pull my hair." It speaks to his utter desperation, and there's something intoxicating about him getting so absorbed in his desire, swept away by need.

He's going to have to do something about that need soon.

"If you keep talking like that," he says, pressing lazy kisses to Jungkook's neck, "you'll get me hard again. And I want to take care of you now. Want your cock in my mouth so bad, Gguk." Pictures can wait, if he ever decides to do it. He's still debating if it's worth the risk of someone else seeing, if maybe the risk makes it even better. He thinks he likes being just on the edge of getting caught, the possibility that someone else will come into the bathroom at school and find them hidden in a stall together or walk in on them in the classroom. On the other hand, he also likes knowing this is something no one else will ever get to see.

Trailing lower, he mouths at Jungkook's skin. "Should I untie you first?" He has to be getting tired by now. Still, Yoongi suspects — hopes — he'll say no.

Even though this is the warmest Jungkook's been in a while, with Yoongi's body covering his own, Jungkook can't quite suppress the shiver that passes through his body as Yoongi's breath ghosts over his neck, kisses and words alike settling into his skin. Jungkook finds himself wanting exactly that — to get Yoongi hard again, to be soothed and taken care of. To have Yoongi's mouth, warm and wet and tight, around his cock.

"You're too good to me," Jungkook murmurs, the timbre of his voice softer, more submissive. "You take care of me better than anyone else can. You always feel so good. Your mouth just..." His chest rises and falls, a soft moan slipping between his lips as the heat starts traveling further down, following the waves of pleasure skirting down his spine and pooling low. His eyes, still heavily lidded, follow Yoongi's progression slowly, anticipating every brush of his fingers, every gently placed kiss.

Even though Jungkook's wrists burn slightly from all the movement, he can't imagine letting them down just yet.

"You don't have to," Jungkook says, quickly shaking his head. "I'm fine like this. Just seeing you... having you touch me. It's so much."

When Yoongi spends so much time hoping just to be good enough, it's strange to consider himself being too good. When Jungkook deserves everything, that doesn't seem entirely possible. Still, he thinks, he'll take it. It means he's doing something right and that's all he wants, to make Jungkook feel good. To make him happy.

If that means keeping him tied up, then that's what they'll do. Yoongi's not sure he could handle it, desperate to get his hands on Jungkook, but then, he figures, that's part of the appeal, being denied until the longing builds. It must make everything better once freedom of movement is restored. At least, he hopes it will. And he likes it from this side of things, driving Jungkook wild, watching him strain against his bonds. There are so few areas in his life where Yoongi feels in control. To be so here is a heady experience, one he knows he's going to want to repeat.

Ribbon next time. Soft pretty colors against Jungkook's wrists, maybe his ankles.

His mouth trails along Jungkook's hip, lips brushing his thigh, then back up to press a kiss to the head of Jungkook's cock. "So hard for me," he says appreciatively. "You look so good." Not yet taking him in his mouth, he licks along the underside, tongue dragging from base to tip. "Taste so good." As badly as he wants this now, he wants to hear Jungkook ask for it first.

Yoongi's touches are so light that Jungkook thinks they can hardly be classified as relief. If anything, Jungkook is pretty sure that Yoongi's intent is to tease him, lips lingering by the cut of his hip, brushing against his inner thigh. Even the press of lips against his erection is far too light, the tongue almost just as much so. Jungkook whines gently, a soft rush of breath through his nose as he cants his hips in an effort to press himself more fully against Yoongi's mouth.

It doesn't quite work, of course. He doesn't have enough freedom of movement to do what he really wants.

"Yoongi," he whimpers, lifting his hips slightly again, his heels sliding clumsily against the sheets. "Yoongi-ah, please... please, I want — I want you, I want more. Would you...?"

Jungkook licks his lips, hesitates to make an explicit request, wondering if Yoongi might know what Jungkook wants even better than he does himself. Besides, there's something about the moment, tied up as he is, that makes Jungkook feel that he doesn't have the full freedom to make a request.

But even if he doesn't express himself fully with words, Jungkook is pretty sure that there's no mistaking the reedy sound of his voice, or the way his thighs tremble whenever Yoongi's tongue passes over his skin.

It's all Yoongi needs to hear. "I like that," he says. "Please." It sounds so good, the way Jungkook's voice pitches higher, thinner, desperation practically dripping from his words. Running his hands over Jungkook's thighs soothingly, he drags the flat of his tongue over the head of his cock, eyes closing briefly at the taste of him.

Teasing is fun, especially when there's nothing Jungkook can do to retaliate, but he's waited long enough. Looking up again to meet his eyes, Yoongi lowers his head, taking him into his mouth. He sinks down as far as he can manage, moaning around him in mingled desire and relief. He's sure Jungkook has wanted this even more than he has, but it feels like he's been waiting forever to get his mouth on him again. He does his best to make it as tight as he can for Jungkook, tongue sweeping over him as Yoongi bobs his head, watching Jungkook all the while. The way his features shift as Yoongi works at him is hypnotic — beautiful, even, though Yoongi knows he's biased. He's not sure anyone could deny that there's a certain beauty to it, though, to the soft needy sounds and the relief.

Jungkook's eyes are narrowed, torn between closing them to focus fully on the sensation and wanting to watch every move Yoongi makes. In the end, he opts for the latter, lips parted and mind buzzing as he watches the deep pink of Yoongi's tongue brush over his cock, the way Yoongi's eyes flutter shut, like Jungkook's the best thing he's ever tasted. Small moans slip at every brush of Yoongi's tongue, punctuated with brief gasps whenever Yoongi switches direction, the teases building low in Jungkook's spine.

But any restraint is torn away entirely when Yoongi sinks himself down over Jungkook, lips pressed tight and tongue wet, hot, rough where it brushes over the swell of the head. "Ah, fuck," Jungkook groans, voice drawn out and rising at the end of his breath. His toes curl, knees pressed clumsily out, legs askew like the wings of a butterfly, giving Yoongi space. Keeping Jungkook's hips from bucking. He doesn't feel that he has the permission — no, doesn't feel that he can move without ruining something sacred, the fan of Yoongi's lashes serving as the curtain to Jungkook's altar.

"Please," he gasps, stuttered prayers on his lips, hands trembling as they fight against the restraints. "Please, Yoongi. You feel — please, don't stop."

Yoongi wouldn't dream of stopping now. Maybe it would be better, to draw out the teasing and keep Jungkook on edge until neither of them can take it any longer, but he can't do it. There's only so much waiting Yoongi can handle, and now that he's here, he doesn't intend to stop until he sees Jungkook fall apart completely. It's an acquired taste, but he's acquired it quickly, savoring every inch of Jungkook on his tongue, heavy and thick and entirely his.

He misses, a little, the feeling of a hand in his hair as he does this, but it's a worthwhile loss if it means he gets to see Jungkook like this instead. The way he strains and shakes, hair clinging to his damp brow, mouth open in desperate pleas, he's the most beautiful thing Yoongi's ever seen in his life. This he wants a picture of, the view he has from between Jungkook's thighs while he's sucking his cock, but nothing's ever going to do the moment justice. He'll have to settle for watching and trying to commit to memory, though he has a feeling it won't be long before they're back in this same position. At least, he hopes it won't be. They have the whole of winter break just ahead of them to revisit this and to explore other possibilities.

Yoongi is focused on the present, though, moaning as he moves a little faster. In part, he can't help it, the noises coming unbidden and instinctive, but he might be embellishing a little, knowing how good it feels when Jungkook does the same around him and how satisfying it is to hear how much he enjoys doing this. Every downward motion of his head is a challenge to himself to get as deep as he can, whining when Jungkook brushes against the back of his throat. He pulls back a little after that, devoting his attention to the head of his cock, before he tries again, whining through it, his hands rubbing soothingly over Jungkook's thighs. He can feel his own desire building again, but that's secondary at best to the way Jungkook looks right now, though Yoongi's vision is slightly blurred from rising tears.

What drives Jungkook the craziest is being restrained from giving affection, from offering Yoongi anything in return for the attention Jungkook is paid now. It feels uneven; it feels almost criminal that Yoongi should devote so much time to making Jungkook feel good, when Jungkook has no avenue for recourse. He lets out a soft, broken sob when Yoongi goes particularly deep — it's not with the ache of sadness, but instead with something deeper than gratitude. He can't remember, before Yoongi, the last time someone tended to Jungkook first, let alone only him.

Even through the haze of desire, Jungkook feels seen. Wanted and cherished. There's a tear or two that slip from the corners of his eyes; he almost curses at the bindings, wanting to hold Yoongi, wanting so desperately to kiss him, though he's not sure how well he'd be able to do so when Yoongi's mouth remains tight and hot, and his voice echoes at the back of his throat.

What pushes Jungkook over in the end is the feel of Yoongi's long fingers splayed over his thigh, rubbing in small circles, in waves and indistinct lines. There are countless ways in which Yoongi could keep himself at a distance with Jungkook so restrained — ways in which he could draw out the torture, to make Jungkook beg. Instead, even with permission granted, Yoongi never forgets that little anchor, the movement seemingly subconscious as Yoongi continues to sink himself down over Jungkook's cock, tongue swirling, lips sucking. The contrast has his nerves coiling tight, hips bucking slightly as the pleasure spikes, pulling an ache from behind the base of his spine.

"Ah... Yoongi, I — I can't — I'm gonna come," Jungkook gasps, trying and failing to keep his eyes open, lids squeezing tight until the stars bloom at the edges of his vision. He shudders through the first wave, biting down on his lower lip as a moan slips free.

There's so much Yoongi enjoys about all of this, so much he likes to hear Jungkook say. Through it all, his own name has to be one of the best sounds. There's nothing quite like hearing it like this, strained and vulnerable and needy, like Jungkook can't help saying his name as he comes. Sometimes it still feels like a novelty to be called by his name at all, but this is the way it sounds best to him.

This time, when Jungkook comes, Yoongi is a little more prepared for it. Kneading gently at Jungkook's thigh, he moans in answer, the hot, thick liquid rushing over his tongue. It's still a little overwhelming, still too much for him to handle, but he swallows as best he can, remembering too late that he wanted to pull off sooner and let Jungkook come on his face. Next time, he thinks.

Only once he's sure Jungkook is done does he draw back, wiping carefully at his eyes, come still dripping down his chin as he crawls back up the bed. He likes the way that feels, likes the way he must look, sated and debauched, still nowhere as beautiful as Jungkook, who looks utterly spent. Yoongi reaches up to touch his cheek, leans in to kiss the other one. Jungkook seems so pleasantly wrecked, and it's at once arousing and endearing; Yoongi just wants to take care of him, to coddle and soothe. "So good for me," he murmurs. "So beautiful when you come for me."

As much as he wants to just cuddle up to him now, he pulls back, edging over to the side to start untying him. "You feel okay?"

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