"You're the best at that," Jungkook breathes, and maybe he's a little more talkative than this role should allow, maybe he's giving Yoongi too much direction when it should Yoongi in the driver's place — but Jungkook finds it impossible to hold back. Being with Yoongi has always been about tearing down all of their barriers, one by one. He remembers in those initial days, being so frightened of saying something wrong, of being ousted from their little group for being too impetuous, too dumb, too young. But with Yoongi, there had always been a reprieve, the two of them sitting by that rickety old piano, less need for words when there were melodies rising and falling between them.

Over time, Jungkook found himself letting down more of his guard, until now, with the two of them entangled, Jungkook doesn't have the faintest idea how to hold himself back. He groans, breath passing through his teeth in small gasps, as Yoongi's lips brush over his thighs. None of the bruises are hard enough to hurt, yet Jungkook swears that he knows when Yoongi passes over every single one, even those that are out of sight from this angle.

It makes him feel like art.

"Min-ah," Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering to a brief close as he sighs, settling his weight further down against the mattress, limbs languid and heavy, seizing only when he feels Yoongi's lips and fingertips brushing over his skin. "I love you."