It always makes Yoongi's world a little brighter, his heart a little faster, to hear those words. He smiles against Jungkook's leg, and he doesn't need to look up to imagine the look on Jungkook's face — the quiet contentment, the long lashes as his eyes close, the gentle languor of desire. He pushes himself up, slipping higher up the bed until he's positioned over Jungkook, leaning down to kiss him. It's impossible to resist him like this, impossible to ignore the pull of his heart and how all he wants is to be close, close, closer. "I love you," he echoes, drawing back again, painting kisses along Jungkook's jaw and down his neck. "I love you so much, Gguk-ah."

His hand skims along Jungkook's hip to his waist, his own hips rolling gently against Jungkook's. He needs to get the fuck out of these jeans, but he's having trouble tearing himself away. How is he supposed to when his boyfriend is so beautiful, when there's such love in the way he looks at Yoongi? He'd forgotten, he thinks, what it's like to be lucky, what it means to be so loved and to know it. It's been too easy to let himself doubt, to expect restrictions and conditions on affection from the others, even where he logically knows they don't exist. But Jungkook looks at him and he knows it's unconditional. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "So..." He shakes his head, uncertain how to put this feeling into words, and focuses on kissing his way back down Jungkook's body instead.