Being loved like this is overwhelming, Yoongi finds, his heart too full, beating too fast. Jungkook is so close, close enough that Yoongi can feel his breath when he speaks. He's grateful suddenly that Jungkook is holding him like this, loving but firm, enough to keep him steady. He knows too well how easy it is to get pulled down by the undertow, to want everything just to stop. Loving life is so much harder. That Yoongi can make anyone feel that way, let alone Jungkook, is almost too much for him, too good to imagine when he's spent so long feeling utterly useless.

He's nothing special, not really. A fairly good musician, skilled for his age and inexperience, and a decent student, maybe, but someone who gets into too many fights and keeps to himself too much, who doesn't know how to express the thousand things he feels every day — ordinary, at his best. To know that about himself, to be so sure of it, and then to be faced with this evidence of having done something extraordinary is almost too much for him to bear.

"Your only love," he points out, cheeks flushing. It doesn't actually soften the sentiment any; if anything, there's a power in knowing he's the first and the last person Jungkook will ever fall in love with. Thumb stroking over Jungkook's cheek, he shakes his head minutely. "I'm glad I'm here. I — you make me so happy. I don't know what to do, you make me so happy." Has he ever been so happy? Has he ever felt so loved, so cherished? It's almost too much happiness. It scares him a little suddenly, to be flying so high — too close to the sun, maybe. He'd never survive losing this. He slips his free hand into Jungkook's hair, pulling him into a kiss, craving even more physical reassurance. They're here. They aren't going anywhere.