Jungkook laughs and Yoongi brightens, a warm rush of happiness through his chest at the sound. It's small and brief and adorable, and Yoongi loves him so fucking much. Sometimes he thinks they're sun and moon — not opposites, but necessities to each other. He orbits Jungkook, and if the other radiates brightness, then Yoongi reflects it, all the brighter himself for being at Jungkook's side. The moon is beautiful in its own right, and the sun is sometimes too much, but without the moon, life on earth would be a mess, and without the sun, the moon would hardly be more than a lifeless rock.

It's a little dramatic, sure, and Yoongi wouldn't go quite that far, but he knows he's happier, livelier, for being loved by Jungkook. That there isn't anything he wouldn't do to make him happy, to hear him laugh. So he doesn't go right back to what he was doing, giving himself a moment to turn over Jungkook's words. It's explicit approval, but that doesn't necessarily mean Jungkook is enjoying it that much. But the way he lowers his head, the way his words come out breathy and shallow, making Yoongi's own head swim with desire — they're both still figuring out if this is something they enjoy or a one-time experiment, but it's enough for Yoongi to feel confident enough to continue.

"What I want is to make you feel good," he says, drawing back slowly and slipping off the bed. He needs to get out of his pants, stripping down and reaching for the lube he left on the counter so he doesn't have to leave the bed again. Moving back behind Jungkook, he can't quite resist touching himself, a soft moan leaving him as he strokes himself a couple times. As badly as he wants to keep going, though, he restrains himself; getting off on his own isn't anywhere near as good as doing it with Jungkook. He takes a deep breath and leans down again, spreading Jungkook's ass with his hands, licking more fervently this time until he's working his tongue into him. What he lacks in experience, he hopes, he makes up for in enthusiasm.