lovestrippedbare | 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕠

Entry tags:

yoongi

𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕠

There are times, Jungkook thinks, when unexpected changes in plan work out for the best. Giving up on the idea of Busan during winter break wasn't the easiest choice at the time — Jungkook had expected it to be the highlight of their winter, and giving into the pressure of Yeongwook's blackmailing hurt on multiple levels. But distance seemed safest. Planning, biding their time, having Jungkook carefully siphon a portion of his allowance over to Yoongi for safekeeping, every passing day made the trip feel more viable again, until the two of them suddenly realized that Yoongi's birthday would be an easy occasion to leave for, and that was that.

They've picked up memories along the way. The first night Jungkook had Yoongi stay over. The first dinner together with his mother, with her offering countless thanks for helping her youngest with his studies. A trip out to a nameless beach, all seven of them together, huddled and bracing against the last of the winter winds.

Getting to March isn't as difficult as Jungkook expected it to be, and now that they're here, the wait has made everything all the sweeter.

He takes countless pictures with his camera — of their seats together on the train, of the little box meals they buy from the lady with the cart. Of the ramyeon they buy an hour later, when it's clear that the box meals are more packaging than substance.

Of Yoongi, staring out the window of the train car, a soft smile on his face.

At first, Jungkook struggled with the idea of spending much of Yoongi's birthday on the train, but the trip to Busan takes several hours at best, which would have required missing class on Friday. Seeing Yoongi's peaceful expression on the train helps to set a little of that regret to rest, as does the stifled laughter they share as they stumble down the hall to their room in the hotel.

"Hotel Elysee," Jungkook says with a flourish as he waits for Yoongi to swipe their room key. "Is that, like, French?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Intimacy has a way of drawing out a very distinct energy from Yoongi, one that never fails to draw Jungkook in. There's surety in his movements, even as he pauses at every step to ask if Jungkook is still comfortable, if Yoongi's managed to avoid pushing too far. Still, he radiates confidence in a way that Yoongi rarely does otherwise — at the piano and by Jungkook's side seem to be the two places for which that confidence is reserved. Maybe they're not all that dissimilar, Jungkook thinks, as he watches Yoongi's hands brush along his skin, deft fingers freeing buttons and smoothly sliding fabric down. Here, Jungkook is Yoongi's instrument, the recipient of gentle fingers, their mingled breath forming a melody that punctuates the silence.

And Jungkook responds, as he's sure that every piano has under Yoongi's touch. He lifts his hips, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks as he lies bare underneath Yoongi's fingertips, shivers when he feels Yoongi's lips brush warm against the now cool skin of Jungkook's thigh.

"I will," Jungkook murmurs, even though that answer doesn't seem to do their bond justice. You won't might be the more accurate reply, but there's a part of Jungkook that also wants to reassure Yoongi that he's not simply here to receive whatever Yoongi could theoretically do to him. He's here, instead, because he trusts that Yoongi will know exactly what to do to bring both of them pleasure. And that means acknowledging that even for the two of them, there are boundaries that both of them get to set.

"Feels good already," he breathes shortly after, feeling his cock twitch under the simple weight of Yoongi's gaze.

It took time to get here. In the early days of their relationship, Yoongi was as nervous as he was excited to explore, always a little worried he'd do something wrong — push too far, hurt past the point of pleasure. He felt a flutter of that again earlier today, thinking about how it would feel to choke Jungkook. Even knowing Jungkook wants it, there's trepidation over the possibility of getting it painfully wrong. The last thing Yoongi wants to do is to hurt Jungkook in a way he doesn't actively want. Figuring out where those boundaries are was a process. Now that he's more sure of them, his confidence flourishes, as if all those restrictions, the lines he shouldn't cross and the ropes that bind Jungkook both, somehow contrive just to set them free.

He nuzzles gently against Jungkook's thigh, smiling into his skin. "Good," he says softly. "That's all I want. Make you feel good." Not that his own pleasure is negligible, but Yoongi isn't worried about that. He gets off on knowing how good he makes Jungkook feel, knowing how irresistible he is to the younger boy. Where one leads, the other always follows.

Stroking his hand along Jungkook's hip, he draws lazy circles with fingertips and tongue against his skin, sucking kisses intently along the inside of his thigh. He doesn't want to bruise too deeply, but he likes leaving marks only the two of them will see, lips skimming over fading bruises from recent nights. This is theirs. Whatever else anyone does to them, however Jungkook is harmed, there's this, softly purpling declarations of love writ along his legs, sometimes scattered over his chest.

"You're the best at that," Jungkook breathes, and maybe he's a little more talkative than this role should allow, maybe he's giving Yoongi too much direction when it should Yoongi in the driver's place — but Jungkook finds it impossible to hold back. Being with Yoongi has always been about tearing down all of their barriers, one by one. He remembers in those initial days, being so frightened of saying something wrong, of being ousted from their little group for being too impetuous, too dumb, too young. But with Yoongi, there had always been a reprieve, the two of them sitting by that rickety old piano, less need for words when there were melodies rising and falling between them.

Over time, Jungkook found himself letting down more of his guard, until now, with the two of them entangled, Jungkook doesn't have the faintest idea how to hold himself back. He groans, breath passing through his teeth in small gasps, as Yoongi's lips brush over his thighs. None of the bruises are hard enough to hurt, yet Jungkook swears that he knows when Yoongi passes over every single one, even those that are out of sight from this angle.

It makes him feel like art.

"Min-ah," Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering to a brief close as he sighs, settling his weight further down against the mattress, limbs languid and heavy, seizing only when he feels Yoongi's lips and fingertips brushing over his skin. "I love you."

It always makes Yoongi's world a little brighter, his heart a little faster, to hear those words. He smiles against Jungkook's leg, and he doesn't need to look up to imagine the look on Jungkook's face — the quiet contentment, the long lashes as his eyes close, the gentle languor of desire. He pushes himself up, slipping higher up the bed until he's positioned over Jungkook, leaning down to kiss him. It's impossible to resist him like this, impossible to ignore the pull of his heart and how all he wants is to be close, close, closer. "I love you," he echoes, drawing back again, painting kisses along Jungkook's jaw and down his neck. "I love you so much, Gguk-ah."

His hand skims along Jungkook's hip to his waist, his own hips rolling gently against Jungkook's. He needs to get the fuck out of these jeans, but he's having trouble tearing himself away. How is he supposed to when his boyfriend is so beautiful, when there's such love in the way he looks at Yoongi? He'd forgotten, he thinks, what it's like to be lucky, what it means to be so loved and to know it. It's been too easy to let himself doubt, to expect restrictions and conditions on affection from the others, even where he logically knows they don't exist. But Jungkook looks at him and he knows it's unconditional. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "So..." He shakes his head, uncertain how to put this feeling into words, and focuses on kissing his way back down Jungkook's body instead.

Jungkook's cheeks bloom over with warmth; even before he hears Yoongi say those words, Jungkook feels the sentiment in Yoongi's touch. You're so beautiful, he says, like Jungkook's the best thing Yoongi's ever laid eyes on, like he's precious and irreplaceable and a feat of nature, when Jungkook so often feels plain, ordinary, average. Here, he feels revered, and in some ways the ties that bind him down feel less like restraints and more like art — like he's being carefully held on display, laid bare for Yoongi to love. His heels dig against the sheets, the fabric puckering slightly under his weight, like the folds of lily petals scattered.

Next time, Jungkook thinks, maybe he'll buy Yoongi some flowers.

"Love you so much," Jungkook murmurs, his eyes fluttering to a close as he narrows his focus to the feel of Yoongi's lips, to the kisses that travel up and down the line of Yoongi's body, sending shivers to the end of every nerve. His hands, at first slack, now tighten into fists, shaking slightly with still more restraint. A part of him wants to pull at the ribbons, fingertips aching for a feel of Yoongi's skin, the curve of his jaw, the line of his back. His chest rises and falls with a slight whine as Yoongi's kisses travel further down, now more distant, and Jungkook aches with the want and anticipation alike.

"You're the beautiful one," Jungkook whispers, eyes blinking open again, lips parted as he watches Yoongi travel further down.

Yoongi is fairly convinced that, of the two of them, Jungkook is more attractive. Maybe it's just personal bias, because it's harder to imagine himself as beautiful, even when he's confident enough in his looks; maybe he just sees something so many others seem to miss. But then, he's sure the same is true for Jungkook, that he sees in Yoongi what Yoongi can't see for himself. Who's more beautiful doesn't really matter. All that really counts, Yoongi thinks, is hearing those words and the soft, loving ache in Jungkook's voice and knowing how fervently he means it. Comparison is meaningless. It's enough — it's everything — just to know how much he's loved and adored.

"Biased," he teases, nipping at Jungkook, though there's a softness in his gaze, a fondness in his voice. He swats gently at Jungkook's hip. "Turn over for me?" He wants to try something, to taste him, and it won't be easy with Jungkook on his back. Besides, he didn't think to bring a blindfold or anything that could be used as one, and anticipation is half the fun of keeping Jungkook tied up like this. Even as he waits, he can't stop touching him, easing back to sit on his knees out of the way while his hands run over every bit of skin he can reach.

"Just because I'm biased doesn't mean I'm wrong," Jungkook says, and where he might normally raise his chin in defiance, now he lowers it almost in worship, though a smile teases at his lips all the same. There probably isn't any convincing Yoongi of the level of beauty that Jungkook sees in him — Yoongi has a way of underestimating himself, of denying compliments that go too far. It isn't that Yoongi necessarily lacks all confidence, but he still has a way of diminishing his own reflection, as far as Jungkook can tell.

He hopes that that will change with time.

Blinking at Yoongi's request, Jungkook tilts his head briefly in curiosity before complying, licking his lips as he turns and realizes, suddenly, how this new position is still more vulnerable than those which came before. From here, Jungkook can't even watch Yoongi, save for the slight shadow that casts over the rumpled sheets; instead, he's forced to rely on touch as an anchor, shivering at the feather light glances of Yoongi's fingertips over his skin.

"Like this?" he whispers, sliding his knees slightly apart as he settles, back arched in anticipation.

Yoongi exhales slowly, gaze traveling along Jungkook's body. "Yeah, like this," he says. On one hand, he finds, he thinks he prefers it when Jungkook is looking at him, when their eyes meet, and he misses that a little. On the other, there's no denying Jungkook looks good from behind. He's breathtaking at any angle, but this is one Yoongi doesn't often get to experience. The slope of his shoulders, the dip at the small of his back, the swell of his ass — all the lines and curves he mostly sees clothed, laid bare in front of him. More than that, the readiness with which Jungkook complies, all of it brings his breath up short, a gentle reverence in Yoongi's expression as he settles himself between Jungkook's legs again.

Bending over him, he presses a kiss to the back of Jungkook's neck. "And just because you're right," he says wryly, "doesn't mean I'm wrong. You're stunning." Nipping gently at his shoulder, Yoongi makes his way steadily down Jungkook's back, trailing kisses along his spine. He's all too aware of how close they are, of how badly he wants Jungkook already; desire twists and coils in his gut, warm and tight, and he's pretty sure Jungkook has to be able to feel it, too, pressed against him as Yoongi is. "And so good," he breathes, "so good for me." He runs his hands over Jungkook's ass as his lips wander lower still, hesitating a moment before he licks lightly at Jungkook's entrance, more curious than intent. Immediately he glances up, looking for the slightest sign of discomfort or disapproval from Jungkook, or else a sign to continue.

Jungkook's vision swims as he feels his heart thudding away in his chest, left with almost no visual cues to go on. All he has is are the slightly shifting shadows cast across the sheets, falling in time with the sink of the mattress as Yoongi draws near. They have to do this more often, Jungkook thinks to himself — not that he prefers this to being face to face with Yoongi, but it's new, it's different, and it's intimate in a slightly different way than everything they've tried before. He's not sure why this idea never came to him earlier; he's certainly seen pictures and watched videos with couples pressed front to back, but it always seemed like there was no way it could compare to being face to face.

And yet.

Stunning, huh? Jungkook distantly wonders how he must look now, knees bent and body pitched forward, bowed in something like worship. He doesn't have the mind to protest Yoongi's claims, lost in soft gasps as Yoongi's lips brush down the line of his back, reminiscent of soft kisses exchanged before bed, but so much more. Biting back a slight whimper, Jungkook fights the temptation to push himself back against Yoongi, instead tightening his hands further into fists, small half-moons against his palm. But as Yoongi's kisses continue to trail lower, Jungkook's eyes widen, breath turning slightly shallow until he shivers at the touch of a tongue against his entrance.

"Oh. Wow," he breathes to himself, blinking in surprise. He's not sure his cheeks have ever felt so warm.

Wow sounds good. There's very little Jungkook could say right now that wouldn't sound good, admittedly, but the soft breathiness of his voice and the way he trembles ever so slightly beneath Yoongi are encouragement enough. He has a vague idea that, if fingers feel good, a mouth might feel as good or better; god knows that's true when it comes to Jungkook's mouth on his cock. Besides, he likes the idea that, as much they already know how to make each other feel good, there might also still be things to learn, to explore together.

He nips playfully at Jungkook's ass, glancing up, but he can't quite see his face from this angle. He can only imagine — eyes wide or shut tight, cheeks flushes and lips parted. Yoongi runs his hands along Jungkook's thighs, steady and soothing, and ducks his head again to lick him, tongue lapping lightly at the puckered rim of his asshole, kitten licks against the sensitive skin. "How's that feel?" he asks, fingers of one hand brushing higher to echo his tongue, running teasingly over his entrance. He's not about to press one inside until he gets some lube, but even the thought of doing so just serves to remind him of how hot and tight Jungkook's ass is, how much he wants to be inside of him. More than that, though, he wants to take his time and make sure Jungkook feels good. "Is it okay?" It's not like he expects to be good yet, but if Jungkook isn't enjoying it, Yoongi figures, then they'd both be better off if he goes back to what he knows he's good at.

Jungkook jumps at the sensation of teeth against his skin, however gentle. Not being able to anticipate Yoongi's actions has his blood rushing through his veins; he can practically hear his heartbeat in his ears as he licks his lips, tempted to glance back, but too willful to try. The whole point of this exercise is to let Yoongi dictate every action, and if that means that for now, he won't be able to know what comes next, so be it. The surprise made this moment all the better, Jungkook thinks, his head swimming with the thought that there's no part of him that Yoongi wouldn't touch — be it with his hands, his lips, his tongue. With a soft exhale, Jungkook lets his head hang just slightly, cock growing heavy as his hands tighten further still.

"Yeah," he breathes with a quick nod, ducking his head in embarrassment. Is it normal to like it when someone licks there? (Does it matter whether or not it is?) "It's — I — if you wanted to do that again, I'd be okay with that. It feels nice." Jungkook laughs at his own clumsy words, not wanting to switch the dynamic just yet, but needing some way of giving Yoongi feedback enough to make the next decision. "I'm okay with anything you want, Min-ah."

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.

"Like that's hard," Jungkook retorts, words drawing contrast once again with the stillness of his body, only the slightest tremble in his thighs as he waits for Yoongi to return. He closes his eyes, making it easier to pick out the shifts and movement — the way the mattress bounces back up, suggesting that Yoongi's made his way off of the bed. The sound of a zipper sliding, of fabric shifting. Jungkook draws in a shallow breath, knowing that Yoongi might be as bare now as Jungkook is himself; the thought makes him shiver, noticing the slight chill of the room. Hotels always seem to run a little colder than their homes, and Jungkook glances down at his forearms, seeing goosebumps rise on his skin.

Yoongi moans, and it's all that Jungkook can do to keep from following suit, licking his lips and waiting, head ducking slightly until it nearly rests by his closed fists. He shivers again when Yoongi's hands find him, warm and soft as they knead against his ass, and Jungkook hardly has the time to relax before he gasps again as Yoongi licks into him, hot and wet and searching, almost demanding. It's not nearly as much of a stretch as when Yoongi uses his fingers, but there's something about the sensation that goes straight to Jungkook's head nonetheless. With a soft moan, Jungkook ducks his head further still, gasping as his forehead meets the knuckle of one hand.

"F-fuck," he whispers, shifting to spread his knees further apart on the bed. "Feels good. Hot."

In the quiet of the room, every sound is amplified. Jungkook whispers and still his voice sends a shiver down Yoongi's spine, his moan going straight to Yoongi's cock. Better than sounds, though, is the way he moves, the deliberate way his legs spread, knees pressing into the sheets, the hint of neediness in it. Jungkook doesn't have to say anything to ask for more. His body does it for him. That's enough to make Yoongi wonder if he can actually do this for long, if he'll be able to keep his own desire at bay. Jungkook's pleasure is so often his main focus, but that doesn't mean his needs are far from his mind right now either.

It's an odd sensation, having his tongue in someone else, but it's good, too, being pressed so close to Jungkook he can feel every movement, every twitch of muscle — a different kind of closeness. Even simply within the confines of sex, there are so many kinds of intimacy, and excitement in exploring something new. Every little reaction, every gasp or moan, gives him a road map of what to keep doing. After a little longer, he slows, experimentally pressing just the tip of a finger inside Jungkook alongside his tongue, stretching him out a little more. His free hand squeezes gently and then trails lower to stroke along his thigh. Like this, talking isn't easy, but that doesn't matter; he's rarely been all that chatty anyway. It leaves him room just to listen and feel.

There's such care and deliberation in every movement of Yoongi's that Jungkook can't help but wonder how much research the other boy did before getting to this point. Did he solicit advice from the internet? Scour the web for videos? The thought is enough to make Jungkook's head swim, heartbeat pounding in his ears, and then Yoongi pushes him further over the edge still with a finger sliding in alongside his tongue. Jungkook gasps, catching himself just short of a writhe, and even with every sense overwhelmed, he still manages to conjure up the image of how Yoongi must look now — how it feels like Yoongi's practically sliding underneath Jungkook's skin, both of their bodies impossible to distinguish and separate.

"Yoongi," Jungkook gasps, letting his head hang as his toes curl, knuckles pressed against the sheets. He's both overwhelmed by touch and desperately in need of it, requiring all of his willpower to keep from dropping and rutting against the sheets, or pushing further back on top of Yoongi's finger — it's hard to know which he needs more. Instead, he lowers his head again, back arched and desperation writ in every muscle, trying his best to encourage Yoongi to come closer still. "Please."

Through the haze of desire, Yoongi can't help feeling a striking sense of relief. The way Jungkook moves and sounds, he knows he's doing well, and there's a part of Yoongi, no matter how unruly he can be at times, that longs simply to be good. However much he might act out or pretend he doesn't care, he's a perfectionist. He may not always aim to please everyone, but he still wants to do things right, and no more so than in moments like this, when the goal is so simple and clear and perfect. He's been thinking about this, which means he's been studying and planning and preparing, hiding away his knowledge, intent on doing things correctly on his own, and it's paying off.

Part of him wants to keep going, to see if he can get any deeper, but he draws slowly back, reaching for the lube instead. "Please what?" he asks, a little breathless himself, especially now that he can sit back a bit and get a better view of Jungkook. He's so beautiful, every muscle straining, desperation pulling taut every line and curve. "What do you want?" Granted, he knows, he's supposed to be making the decisions. That, he reasons, entitles him to decide he wants to hear Jungkook say what he needs. He's so tempted to keep touching him, but he restrains himself, just to see Jungkook squirm a little more.

Before he can form the words, Jungkook whines as Yoongi pulls away, leaving only a chill that spreads across Jungkook's skin. The sudden retreat leaves Jungkook aching, struck with a sense of loss square in his chest. It won't be long until Yoongi returns, Jungkook knows — won't be long until Yoongi's arms are wrapped around him again and until Yoongi's breath is warm on his shoulder — but the sudden shift from closeness to distance leaves Jungkook feeling unguarded and exposed. He blinks his eyes tightly a couple of times, staring at the wall in front of him, forcing himself through the exercise of tracing lines with his gaze, all the shadows and the curve of the headboard. What did Yoongi ask, again?

"I want..." Jungkook hesitates, biting on his lower lip. To list out any of his wants feels like it can't do justice to the feeling, the sharp need Jungkook has for Yoongi to pull close. But to not give an answer would be insubordinate — Yoongi's in control, Jungkook ceded it to him, and unless there's a good reason, Jungkook can't hold back from giving Yoongi what he asks for now.

"You."

Is it too vague? Jungkook nearly turns his head to look at Yoongi, pausing only when his eyes notice the fall of Yoongi's shadow on the sheets. But the answer is truth in its purest form. Yoongi could do just about anything and Jungkook would content, so long as it involves Yoongi. So long as it involves the both of them, together.

It would be easy to tease. After all, Yoongi knows perfectly well that Jungkook wants him. It would be, at least in theory, easy to keep him wanting. Except it isn't at all. Except that just watching Jungkook like this leaves something pulling tight through Yoongi, his heart and throat tight for a moment, with love as much as with desire. It's hard to put it into words, but he'd like to think he could write a song about it, if he could think about anything but this for a moment. He wants to be inside of him, not just to ease the physical longing, but because he wants so badly just to be close to Jungkook.

While a more specific answer would have provided more direction, Yoongi can't pretend this isn't, no matter how obvious, perhaps the most satisfying response. He shifts forward, ducking his head to press a kiss to the small of Jungkook's back. "I love you," he murmurs. Maybe at some other time, he'd remind himself that there's more to the world than this, but there isn't. Not really. He loves Jungkook and Jungkook loves him, and everything else is incidental. He nudges Jungkook's hip, encouraging him to roll onto his back. As badly as he wants to fuck him already, he's not about to do so without preparing Jungkook, and he wants to see him, to watch him, to be closer. "Turn over for me."

Just those three words are enough to release all the tension from Jungkook's body, a breath leaving his lips that he hadn't known he was holding. That Yoongi loves him was obvious this whole time, clear in every brush of skin to skin, in every word that falls from the other boy's lips — but there's still something special about hearing them spoken directly, like a salve that relaxes Jungkook to the core. He sighs at the touch of Yoongi's lips to his back, the way it anchors him emotionally, knowing that Yoongi's with him. Jungkook chews briefly on his lip, almost laughing at himself for the way his eyes start to grow warm, but thankfully Yoongi interrupts then with a request that Jungkook is all too happy to oblige.

Sitting up slightly, Jungkook pulls his knees together and carefully leans off to his side, laying on top of the mattress before he finally turns around. It's such a simple request, hardly even made clumsy by the ribbons around his wrists, and yet everything seems to stutter to a halt when Jungkook looks up and finds Yoongi again.

"Oh," he breathes, shocking himself when a tear slips free from his eyes. "Hi."

Yoongi knows it's stupid and melodramatic, but there are times when he looks at Jungkook and he doesn't understand how the world isn't in love with him. He's beautiful. Physically, but it's more than that, too. Even in the middle of a moment like this, rumpled and aroused, there's a sweetness to him that's irresistible. A purity, somehow. Jungkook is no more an angel than Yoongi is, but he's good in a way Yoongi isn't at all sure he is, and he's pretty sure he's a better person for getting to be close to that.

His heart skips a beat at the sight of him, and then he sees the tear sliding down Jungkook's cheek, and anything he might have done next is forgotten. There's nothing in Jungkook's posture or expression that suggests distress, but still Yoongi surges forward to gather him close, gently brushing a thumb over Jungkook's cheek. "Hi," he murmurs. "Hey. Are you alright? Not too tight still?" There is, admittedly, a small flicker of worry in his chest that he's done something wrong, but he dismisses it. They trust each other for a reason. Jungkook would tell him if there was anything he needed to stop or adjust. Still, even if he's not exactly crying, Yoongi has to be sure. Besides, there's a certain measure of relief in just holding Jungkook again, bodies tangled together so he can keep the younger boy close.

Before Jungkook can stop himself, he's leaning into the touch of Yoongi's hand. Technically, he's supposed to refrain from making any movements that Yoongi hasn't approved, he's supposed to wait for either permission or direction, but Yoongi's warmth is so close that Jungkook can't resist, his tears smearing against the palm of Yoongi's hand while he does. Even that slight concern in Yoongi's voice, unneeded though it is, squeezes at Jungkook's heart; he takes a deep breath to calm himself before nodding.

"I'm so good," Jungkook whispers, closing his eyes and almost burrowing himself against the touch. The whole of his body feels like it's aching, yearning for the touch that's been teased, dangled out of reach, sliding into shore now that Yoongi has gathered Jungkook into his arms. "Perfect, almost. Really happy, really good. I know that sounds kinda stupid, I just... really love you."

He laughs lightly at himself, torn between that and crying even more — he might do both. Jungkook blinks back the tears as he opens his eyes, lips parted and flushed.

Although Yoongi is perfectly aware that Jungkook loves him, there are moments when he gets so tangled up in his own adoration of the other boy he almost forgets Jungkook feels the same way about him. His breath catches and he smiles, quick and surprised, his heart fluttering. He'll never understand what he did to deserve this, but he doesn't care. He's so fucking lucky just to have it.

"It's not stupid," he says softly, thumb stroking gently along Jungkook's cheek. It's a relief to know that nothing's wrong — that it's the opposite, that, in spite of his own remarkable ability to trip over his own feet while standing still, he's gotten this so right. They needed this weekend, he thinks, a chance to get out of Seoul, away from their families, a chance just to be them with nothing in the way. Arms and legs ensnared as he leans his forehead against Jungkook's, he closes his eyes. "I love you. More than anything. And I mean that. If I — if I can make you this happy... It's not stupid. It's all I want."

He presses a kiss to Jungkook's cheek. There's a lot out there that Yoongi wants. He's young and ambitious and clever, and, in spite of his better judgment, he has bigger dreams than he cares to admit, sometimes even to himself. Still, curled up with Jungkook like this, he thinks he'd trade any and all of it for more of this.

This moment is such a sudden turn from the heated tangle of their limbs only seconds ago, and yet to Jungkook, the transition is seamless. Natural. Because what else could he want now, other than to have Yoongi's arms around him, shielding him from anything and everything in the world that might be less than what Jungkook wants. The universe has sized itself down to the weight and warmth of them here, in this bed, and Jungkook buries his nose against Yoongi's chest, eyes fluttering to a close as he inhales deep. Yoongi smells — somehow always like the piano, Jungkook thinks. Older than his years, wiser, well loved.

He sighs.

"I got really lucky," he mumbles, nuzzling his face closer still to Yoongi's chest, trying to hide the way his cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Not like I did anything to deserve — the person I looked up to most — knowing you like this, it's really... like winning the lottery. No, more than that. Kind of like it was just meant to be. Us finding each other."

Now tears prick at Yoongi's eyes, surprised wonder filling his chest. Sometimes he really doesn't understand how this happened, how they got so lucky. Some people never find their soul mate. Others don't for years. They found each other now, and sometimes that makes him feel keenly just how young they are, how miraculous it is to be this young and to have something so indescribably special. He can't imagine what he did to make Jungkook look up to him so much. It's harder still to understand how he managed to get Jungkook to fall in love with him. He doesn't care. What they have is too precious to question too much, at least right now.

"It was," he says softly, fingers running gently through Jungkook's hair. "We're supposed to be together. And you deserve everything. You have no idea... I love you so much." He'd give Jungkook the world if he could. He'd find for him anything his heart desired. It's hard sometimes to express just how intensely this love burns in him, how utterly it consumes him. Even with so many fierce friends, he's felt so alone, and now it's like he'll never have to be alone again. The person he loves best in all the world loves him best, too. He's not sure anything could be better than that.

Whether or not Jungkook deserves everything, he's not sure — if anything, he feels undeserving of everything in this moment, of Yoongi's love, of this trip to Busan. There isn't anything that Jungkook's done in his life, he feels, to make him deserving of things that bring him so much happiness. But maybe, a small voice in his mind beckons, maybe this is just fate's way of starting to make up for all the tragedies that he didn't deserve either. The death of his father, the violence of the new family he was given. Some days, Jungkook feels the blows are as inevitable as every one of his shortcomings, but today, ever since they got on the train, Jungkook knows that he can be more.

He just needs the right circumstances. He needs the right reasons to try.

"I have some idea," Jungkook murmurs, curling still further into Yoongi's hold, turning his head until he can feel the soft thud of Yoongi's heart. He brings his hands up, still bound, and traces his knuckles gently down the line of Yoongi's sternum, before turning his head to press soft, fluttering kisses against Yoongi's skin. "I have some idea, because of how much I love you."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject