Jungkook nearly forgets to breathe as Yoongi presses inside — slow, tortuously slow, but then he's there and the two of them are together, the two of them at rest as one. Shifting to reach Yoongi is difficult, but Jungkook manages somehow to skate his lips against Yoongi's cheek. The weight of Yoongi's forehead against his shoulder is comforting, like Jungkook is reliable, like Jungkook is there for no other reason than to be Yoongi's. Love you so much, the words echo in Jungkook's ears, and somehow it's both hard to believe and the most obvious truth at once. Every touch of Yoongi's seems steeped in it, this adoration that shields Jungkook from all other thought.

"Love you," Jungkook mumbles, the words slipping out between moans, little staccatos in the midst of their melody. "Love you, love you, love you."

And Yoongi will undoubtedly be careful with Jungkook, as he always is, never wanting there to be any unnecessary pain. But even with all the reassurance in the world, and with the luxury of all the time they suddenly have on their hands, still Jungkook remains impatient to please and eager to feel. He doesn't wait for his body to fully acclimate, whimpering as he tries to pivot his hips and drive himself further down on Yoongi's cock. Distantly, Jungkook wonders how desperate he must look, his throat already dry for the way he's breathing heavily between parted lips, his gaze slightly unfocused. "Fuck me," Jungkook gasps, voice reedy — he understands why they call this making love. "Yoongi-ah, fuck me, love me."