"Ah, ah Min-ah, yes, like that," Jungkook breathes, eyelids fluttering shut as Yoongi works another finger inside, stretching Jungkook. There's a slight burn that comes with the movement, but Jungkook doesn't mind — if anything, the pain feels like something tangible to hold onto, something that's proof of the two of them binding closer and closer together. Gradually, he blinks his eyes open again, watching Yoongi, his mouth agape as he watches Yoongi's lips sink over his cock. He gasps then, the breath fading into a deep moan as his heels dig against the bedsheets.

Years ago, he had wondered about physical intimacy, small and shy in the darkness of his room as he watched videos in fascination. It had all seemed so complicated, so messy and uncomfortable — Jungkook couldn't quite imagine enjoying the act itself, couldn't imagine it being any better than how things felt when he worked himself. Now he thinks he understands — with their limbs tangled up in the sheets like this, they practically feel like one.

And being close to Yoongi is so much more satisfying than anything else Jungkook's known.

"God, I don't know — don't know what I want more. Your mouth, your hands, your cock," Jungkook laughs when he manages to catch a breath, sighing as he arches off the bed, back curved as though it, too, is drawn to Yoongi through some gravitational pull. "All of it."