Whatever Jungkook might think, Yoongi knows the truth of how fortunate he is. If Jungkook can't see it for himself, Yoongi will just have to see it for him. He makes a small humming sound, almost but not quite laughter, and kisses Jungkook's cheek, nudging him back. "I definitely have that going for me," he agrees, reaching for Jungkook's waist, hands skimming over his ribs, encouraging him to lie back down. Jungkook is always so pliant — so willing, as he says — and Yoongi doesn't have long to wait before he can angle himself over the younger boy, leaning down to pepper kisses along his chest. As happy as he would be to keep showering Jungkook in affection and reminders of how cherished he is, he knows that sex is, for them, just as good a way to do that as words are. Sometimes he thinks it might be more effective; he's never been that great with his words, after all. Sometimes all he wants is to bury himself deep in his boyfriend and hold him close, so connected and entwined, no one could tell them apart, glowing with sex and sweat and love.

"Eager," he murmurs into his skin. "Willing. Beautiful. Don't give me that look." He doesn't have to glance up to suspect that Jungkook's expression is less than credulous, no matter how often Yoongi's told him how stunning he is. If he has to say it a thousand times more, he will. "Sweet... and funny... and kind." He laves his tongue over a nipple, catches it gently between his teeth. "Ridiculously horny." Like he's one to talk. "Thoughtful. And enthusiastic. Good. Generous." This time, he does look up, however briefly, as his kisses move further down Jungkook's stomach, hovering just above his hip. "I could keep going, but I don't want to keep you waiting. Wanna taste you, Gguk." Wants to fuck him, too, but if he's going to do that, he has to prep him first, one hand steady at Jungkook's thigh as the other reaches blindly for the lube. His heart is thundering in his chest, almost an ache in his throat, like every inch of him is ready to burst with desire and with love.