Jungkook's cheeks bloom over with warmth; even before he hears Yoongi say those words, Jungkook feels the sentiment in Yoongi's touch. You're so beautiful, he says, like Jungkook's the best thing Yoongi's ever laid eyes on, like he's precious and irreplaceable and a feat of nature, when Jungkook so often feels plain, ordinary, average. Here, he feels revered, and in some ways the ties that bind him down feel less like restraints and more like art — like he's being carefully held on display, laid bare for Yoongi to love. His heels dig against the sheets, the fabric puckering slightly under his weight, like the folds of lily petals scattered.

Next time, Jungkook thinks, maybe he'll buy Yoongi some flowers.

"Love you so much," Jungkook murmurs, his eyes fluttering to a close as he narrows his focus to the feel of Yoongi's lips, to the kisses that travel up and down the line of Yoongi's body, sending shivers to the end of every nerve. His hands, at first slack, now tighten into fists, shaking slightly with still more restraint. A part of him wants to pull at the ribbons, fingertips aching for a feel of Yoongi's skin, the curve of his jaw, the line of his back. His chest rises and falls with a slight whine as Yoongi's kisses travel further down, now more distant, and Jungkook aches with the want and anticipation alike.

"You're the beautiful one," Jungkook whispers, eyes blinking open again, lips parted as he watches Yoongi travel further down.