lovestrippedbare | 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕠

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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?"

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"Okay, fair point," Yoongi says, soft against Jungkook's hair as he presses a kiss to the top of his head. He doesn't understand a lot of things, but he's sure of that much: that Jungkook loves him every bit as much as Yoongi loves Jungkook. He's not sure anyone — anyone — has ever loved him at once so deeply and so purely, true and intense and enduring, without a trace of obligation or regret. It's a gift beyond anything anyone has ever given him, anything he's ever known. He has no way of knowing what that feels like for Jungkook for sure, but he's pretty certain all the same that this is a love of equals, that they love each other just as absolutely.

Running his hand down Jungkook's back, he closes his eyes, enjoying the soft tease of kisses against his chest, reminding him how badly he still wants Jungkook in this moment. "I just mean..." He sighs, a hum of pleasure in his throat. "I'm lucky too." It feels so small compared to the enormity of what it is to be caught up in something like this, a passionate romance like he never thought he'd ever know. But then, he figures, Jungkook probably thought the same thing. Words are limited, or at least his are, no matter how hard he tries. Even music falters in the face of this. He's not sure he'll ever find a way to convey it properly, but then, Jungkook already understands. Far from Seoul, he thinks maybe he's never felt quite so at home.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums, playfully questioning Yoongi's judgment. He still thinks that he's the luckier of both of them — he's never been especially brilliant, never been notably skilled. Only achingly lonely, Jungkook thinks, remembering the early days of high school before he met the rest of the group. Most of his memories of that time are of staring at the pavement, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention — of being shoved or nudged to the side by a careless shoulder, almost worse than any intentional shove. Only after he met the rest of the boys does Jungkook feel like he really came alive.

He's a better person now for having known Yoongi.

"I guess," he allows at the end, because maybe Yoongi's at least a little lucky to have his crush returned, however questionable his taste might be in Jungkook's eyes. Any of the other boys in the group would be more impressive in some way than Jungkook. Hoseok's got his dancing, Jimin's the sweetest. Namjoon's smart, Seokjin's funny, Taehyung is alarmingly handsome.

Jungkook's all clumsy limbs. But he'll work on that.

"I guess you do have an eager and willing boyfriend right next to you, waiting to be fucked," he says with a laugh, breaking the tension of the moment.

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.

If Jungkook could arrive through the sheer weight of emotions alone, he thinks that he'd be coming now, the flush on his body spreading and spreading with every compliment that falls from Yoongi's lips. It rushes across his skin like the spread of a fire — Jungkook can hardly breathe for his disbelief. Beautiful? Thoughtful, generous. Good. Jungkook feels himself blink in disbelief at all of it, too many years spent under the judgment of his stepfather, the words from his lips a stark contrast to those he hears now. It makes Jungkook feel more than a little undeserving of this, of how wildly happy he is. Perfect isn't a word that he uses often, but he thinks that it's well reserved for moments like this, wrapped up in the arms of the boy he's loved for so long.

"Ridiculously horny," Jungkook laughs, arching his back slightly, his hair mussed and messy against the pillowcase. "That one. That one, I — fuck, Yoongi, I want you. Want you, want you, love you."

He's too chatty for his role, but Jungkook thinks that maybe those boundaries have relaxed a little just now anyway, the both of them forthcoming with emotions that crash through in waves. He feels Yoongi's love in every kiss, in the heat of his tongue — "Ah," Jungkook gasps, his fingers curling instinctively, wanting to tug at Yoongi's hair. "Love you, I love you so much. Want you."

Jungkook doesn't say anything to the rest of the adjectives that Yoongi runs through, but he doesn't have to. When Yoongi looks up, there's a soft awe in Jungkook's expression that says more than enough. If, for just one moment, he understands how Yoongi sees him, how precious and loved he is, then that's enough. He'll spend his whole life trying to fill their world with those moments. Jungkook's spent too long not seeing himself the way Yoongi does, not loving himself like Yoongi does.

"I love you," he murmurs, opening the bottle and quickly coating his fingers with lube. He wishes he were better with his words, that he could list off occasions and incidents that would help Jungkook to believe, the way Jungkook has done for him in the past. Frankly, everything's a little hazy, though, the air thick and charged with desire, and he's not much of a talker at his most coherent. Teasing a finger in slow circles around Jungkook's asshole, he presses more kisses to his thigh, slowly, gently working his way inside. As much as he can tell that Jungkook wants this, he's not about to rush him through this. The last thing he wants is for any of this to hurt. Carefully fingering Jungkook, he kisses the base of his cock, trace his tongue along a vein. "You have me. I'm here."

It doesn't take long for Yoongi's touch to rob Jungkook of his words, head swimming in the endless waves of sensation, soft little gasps in echo to the stroke of Yoongi's fingers. There's a certain calmness that comes in these moments with Yoongi, no matter how otherwise frenzied and passionate. He blinks his eyes open, watches Yoongi as best he can, until Yoongi slides too far down Jungkook's body to be seen — and even then, Jungkook reaches out with his hands, bound though they are, and lets his fingertips rake gently through Yoongi's hair, needing every possible point of contact.

"I've got you," he whispers off the end of a moan, drawing in a deep breath and hissing as Yoongi's tongue laps against his cock, all wet heat. "I've got you. I have you." Even now, after a full day spent together, sleeping heads bobbing on shoulders to the rocking of a train, Jungkook can't help but marvel at all of it. The past few months have been nothing sort of a dream; sometimes he wonders still if he'll wake up one day and find himself as he was before, small and quiet and lonely.

It feels both like yesterday and a lifetime ago.

"Never letting you go," he huffs on a smile, fading soon into a moan as he presses himself down against the reach of Yoongi's fingers. "Fuck, you feel so good."

That, Yoongi thinks, is a pretty good reason to tie Jungkook like this more often, giving him more reach. The feeling of fingers in his hair is so good, somehow at once soothing and arousing. Those things so often seem all tangled together with Jungkook, which Yoongi figures is how things should be. He's mussed and aching with need, every soft moan and gasp sending shockwaves of desire straight through him, and still, he's more comfortable here in this unfamiliar room than he's been nearly anywhere else in a long time. There's nowhere in the world safer for him than wherever Jungkook is.

"You feel pretty fucking good yourself," he says, glancing up, eyes heavy-lidded, working another finger into him. "So hot, practically fucking yourself on my fingers like that." It won't be very long, he's pretty sure, before Jungkook is ready for him, which is a relief; he's almost painfully hard, desperate to be inside of him, longing for release and for the intimacy of burying himself deep in Jungkook. His cock practically jumps at the thought. As much as he likes to tease and get Jungkook all worked up, he has no intention of keeping him waiting for long. Or himself, for that matter, wanting a real taste of him. He lowers his head again, taking Jungkook into his mouth, moaning softly. It won't do to get him off just yet, not when Yoongi wants him coming around his cock, but he's come to love the familiar taste and weight, taking him slow and deep.

"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."

There's such a brightness in Jungkook's voice, a mingling of delight and desperation, that Yoongi can't help if his mouth slackens a bit, stretches into a smile instead. Even now, he's so cute. Yoongi's not sure Jungkook would entirely appreciate the sentiment, however complimentary he means it to be, so he keeps it to himself. The way his heart spills over with affection, though, he can't restrain, letting out a small, happy moan around Jungkook. Easing back, he turns his head, wipes his mouth against his arm. "All of it," he says. "Oh, you're getting all of it. Wanna be inside you so bad, Gguk-ah."

Looking up at him now, Yoongi takes him in, the messy hair, the flushed cheeks and bright eyes, the way he writhes against the sheets when Yoongi's fingers get deep enough. He twists his wrist slightly, scissors his fingers apart. "So hot like this," he murmurs encouragingly. "So good for me. Think you need another?" As much as he aches for attention, he does his best to be patient. This isn't something to rush through. It's not like they haven't hurried through it, taking whatever chances they can get, but even then, Yoongi knows the importance of prepping Jungkook thoroughly. If there's any pain to be had here, it should only be for the purpose of highlighting the pleasure. He ducks his head, nipping at Jungkook's thigh, and it's all he can do not to rock his hips against the bed, every small sound spilling from Jungkook leaving him dizzy and wanting.

If Jungkook needed it, he knows that Yoongi would take things achingly slow, denying himself however long is necessary to make sure that he can spare Jungkook any discomfort or pain. But there's an equal and opposite momentum on Jungkook's end, he thinks — a deep urge to meet Yoongi's every need, to be better, ambition seeping through even to the most intimate of moments between them. So when Yoongi asks if Jungkook needs another, he shakes his head quickly, eyes wide and bright, eager to please, wanting the closeness more than he ever worries about the consequences.

"I think I'm — I'm good, I'm ready," he insists, eyes fluttering to a close again as Yoongi's fingers brush precariously close to that spot they've both come to know well. Jungkook shudders, muscles in his body tensing until he reminds himself to relax; that however much he might want to heighten sensation for Yoongi, Yoongi will also be watching to make sure he doesn't hurt Jungkook. Any hitch in breath, any sudden jolt in Jungkook's body, these are things that might easily worry Yoongi and pull them out of the moment.

"Want you inside me," Jungkook breathes, relaxing as he opens his eyes, heavily lidded and irises blown dark. "Please."

There isn't a thing in the world Yoongi wouldn't do for Jungkook. That please, so needy and sweet, gets right under his skin, like every inch of him is pulsing with the way his own desire meets his longing to give Jungkook exactly what he wants. He almost asks again, asks if he's sure, but the way Jungkook sounds right now, he doesn't think he needs to. His eyes are dark, his cheeks flushed, and, for a moment, Yoongi's throat goes tight, vaguely overwhelmed by everything — by how beautiful Jungkook is like this, spread out for him and desperate, by how much he wants without yet getting any relief, by the headiness of knowing no one here gives a shit what they're doing, that no one's going to find or stop them. There's no need to hold back here, to be careful in case his father comes home unexpectedly or wakes up. There's just them, just this, just Jungkook.

Still, he waits, slowing the pace of his fingers, until Jungkook feels more relaxed around them, before pulling them out. However badly he might want, the last thing he intends to do is hurt Jungkook. "I love you," he murmurs, briefly stroking a hand down Jungkook's thigh, the other reaching for the lube. His breath catches at the touch of his own hand, coming out again in a shaky exhale. It doesn't do much to take the edge off, just makes him wants to be inside of Jungkook even more, head light with it as he leans forward. "Love you so much." There have been times he's wondered if he says it too much, too needy himself, too anxious to be loved back as wholeheartedly as he loves; meeting Jungkook's gaze, though, he knows that isn't the case. Even if there were such a thing as too much for love, he thinks, they both crave it too much to tire of hearing it when they feel so goddamn lucky to be loved by each other in the first place. Besides, if there's ever a time for it, it's now. Yoongi hisses between his teeth, lining himself up with Jungkook's entrance and pressing slowly inside him, his heart stuttering in his chest as the tight heat envelops him. "Fuck," he whines, leaning forward to rest his head against Jungkook's shoulder. "Oh. Fuck, feel so fucking good, Gguk."

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."

The way Jungkook presses down against him draws a sharp hiss from Yoongi. That in itself is hard to resist, but when he hears those words in his ear, it's all he can do to hold back a moment longer. Restraining himself to small, shallow thrusts takes almost more will power than he has, when all he wants is to give Jungkook what he wants, to drive into Jungkook again and again, hard and deep and fast, until the younger boy is completely wrecked around his cock.

But if he does that right away, he's pretty sure he'll come too fast. Besides, he wants to enjoy this a little longer, propping himself up a bit to get a better look at Jungkook — who, admittedly, already looks pretty damn wrecked. Irises blown dark and sweat on his brow, he's desperately beautiful as Yoongi runs a hand along his hip. He hooks it beneath Jungkook's thigh, tugging him closer, shifting the angle. "Thought I was the one in charge," he says, a low, teasing growl. Fuck, he looks good like this, practically begging for more. Yoongi relents a little, fucking him deeper, as much for himself as for Jungkook's sake. "Want me to fuck you? Like this? Or do you want it harder?" He's pretty sure he could answer that himself, and, frankly, he's not sure he can keep up the tease for long anyway, aching to go faster. Still, he likes to hear it from Jungkook himself, likes the way he looks when he begs, needy and whining and gorgeous. Besides, he knows Jungkook gets off on this anyway, that he likes being controlled as much as Yoongi likes being in control. It's just another of the infinite ways they complement each other, a matching set with pieces made to fit, interlocked and whole only when united. Sure that Jungkook will keep his leg hooked around Yoongi on his own, he lets go, smoothing his hand along Jungkook's chest to tweak his nipple instead. "Faster?"

Even though on some level, Jungkook knows that Yoongi is teasing, he can't help the deep flush that spreads across his cheeks when Yoongi reprimands him for being so needy. For trying to give direction when he should be submitting. And when Yoongi gives the reminder, voice low and gravelly, Jungkook can't help the whine that slips through his lips, nails dragging against Yoongi's skin as Jungkook twists, wanting to feel closer, closer, closer. Wanting to feel Yoongi's growl reverberate through his body.

"I — want whatever you want," Jungkook pants, even though the keen of his voice makes it clear what he wants, shivering as Yoongi starts to drive himself deeper and faster. "I — oh, fuck, mm." Jungkook bites down harshly on his lip, and even if he doesn't give a single word of direction, Jungkook's pretty sure that Yoongi knows exactly what he wants. His body betrays him, shuddering as Yoongi drives himself in deeper, faster, and Jungkook whines as he pivots his hips to make for easier access. The dichotomy is a heady one, Yoongi filling him full to burst, but Jungkook's cock going untouched and neglected, until even the slightest brush of the tip against Yoongi's abdomen makes Jungkook cry out, head falling back against the pillow.

"Y-yes," he stammers, another gasp slipping free as Yoongi pinches his nipple. "Yes, Yoongi, fuck. You feel so good, so good, love how you use me, s'everything I want—"

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek again, wondering if he's said too much. Most of the time, he finds that silence is far too high of a bar for him to meet, but he does his best now, blinking and staring up at Yoongi's gaze. He swears that he can practically feel the brush of Yoongi's gaze against his skin.

He can hardly look away. Jungkook is so utterly stunning like this, eyes bright and dark at once, skin rosy as he trembles beneath Yoongi. He sounds half-delirious with desire, and that in itself would be enjoyable, but what he says gets under Yoongi's skin, too. Even as Jungkook hastens to submit, Yoongi finds that only makes him want all the more to give him exactly what he's longing for. He's practically shaking himself, fucking Jungkook faster, driving in deeper, the air heavy with the sound of skin against skin and the way they both gasp for breath. He rests a hand at Jungkook's waist, grips him tight enough he thinks he might leave his fingerprints burned into his skin.

"Such a good boy," he groans. "Taking me so good. You feel — fuck, Gguk, like you were fucking made for me." It's not like he has anyone else to compare him to, not like Yoongi really wants to have any grounds for comparison, but, god, he can't imagine anyone else could feel like this. Nothing could be better than the way they fit together or all the beautiful little sounds Jungkook makes. Every mewl, every keening cry, sends sparks dancing across Yoongi's skin, a shiver down his spine. How anyone can sound so gorgeous, he doesn't know, but he loves it, loves angling his hips just so to pull another whine from Jungkook or dragging his nails along Jungkook's thigh for a gasp, until he's learned how to play him like the best instrument Yoongi's ever known.

But no matter how intensely Yoongi might play at times, he knows he won't get anywhere if he doesn't take care of his instruments, and nothing and no one could be as precious to him as Jungkook is. He lets go of Jungkook's waist, lifting his hand to smooth his knuckles over Jungkook's cheek where he can see the faint indentation that tells him what the younger is doing. "No biting," he pants, letting his hand trail down to rest against Jungkook's throat. He doesn't apply any pressure, doesn't dare try until he's done some kind of research to learn how to do it safely, but he hopes that the very suggestion he might choke Jungkook will be enough for now. "I like hearing you."

Hearing Yoongi describe Jungkook as being made for him nearly brings Jungkook to the point of tears again. He's sure that some people might consider it reductive for Jungkook to be so eager to consider himself shaped around another person, but to Jungkook, there could be nothing greater than to have been made to love someone, to be the perfect counterpart to someone he's lucky enough to spend the majority of his life with. "Made for you," Jungkook breathes in acknowledgement, voice slightly broken as he hangs onto Yoongi like his life depends on it.

Maybe in some ways, it does.

Even with Yoongi's prompting, it takes Jungkook a moment to realize how he's fallen back on habits, biting down on his cheek to try and contain any noise that might give them away. Finding time for intimacy hasn't been all that difficult — they're both far too determined to let curfews and guardians hold them back — but it's always been stolen time, stolen space, a vague sense of getting away with something that wouldn't be welcome if they were to be discovered. Here, Jungkook remembers that there isn't a single soul who would bother to stop them. Here, the space is designed specifically for people like them, lovers seeking refuge and escape.

So he lets himself go. Sometimes his whimpers are quiet and overwhelmed, and sometimes he can't hold himself back from a cry when Yoongi hits just the right spot, their bodies in sync, no space left between them at all. "Feels so good, love it when you fuck me, your hands on me, ah—" Jungkook gasps, maintaining eye contact with Yoongi as he tilts his head just so, pushing his neck against Yoongi's hand, ceding control. Yoongi is the very air Jungkook breathes. "Close, I'm close."

Sometimes Yoongi doesn't quite understand why Jungkook trusts him so much. He doesn't know what he's ever done to prove he's worth trusting like this. Still, the fact remains that Jungkook does, and it's so good, so pure, so loving that Yoongi is overwhelmed by it. Jungkook doesn't just accept or like the hand at his throat; he presses into it, as eager for this as for anything else, and Yoongi vows — albeit very quickly and distractedly — to do all the research he can very soon, to make sure he can choke Jungkook properly later without hurting him.

For now, thumb stroking against Jungkook's throat, he ducks forward to press a kiss to his forehead. "Made for me," he says again. He's too far gone to clock why that seems to have struck a chord with Jungkook, but not enough to miss that it did, and, god, he means it. Nothing feels as good or as right as this, the way they're tangled together, as inseparable physically as they are in their souls. They fit together in a way he's pretty sure people rarely do, and, anyway, he doesn't care if fucking everyone finds this eventually; the fact remains that there's something impossibly special about what they have.

He's starting to tremble himself, breath falling in heavy pants and groans, knowing he's close, too, but he's not about to stop before they both come. He could reach down and stroke Jungkook, get him off that much faster, but he doesn't want to let go of his neck, and anyway, he's kind of curious if Jungkook will come largely untouched. "Come for me," he murmurs, hips crashing against Jungkook's. "So good, all mine, you're mine." He's said a thousand times that he belongs to Jungkook, heard the same in return, but he's not sure he's ever followed that through to its logical conclusion aloud — that Jungkook belongs to him. That he's his. Something about the very idea sparks something in him, strikes a nerve, adding to the increasing pressure running down his spine, tugging at his gut. They've both spent too long without someone to belong to or anyone who belongs to them. How lucky they are, he thinks, gazing down at Jungkook, to have each other. "So close, Gguk. Wanna feel you come for me."

"I'm yours, yours," Jungkook whispers, shivering at the brush of Yoongi's thumb by his throat. Even this, knowing that Yoongi's never been drawn to asphyxiation before, sends another current of heat through Jungkook. Yoongi trusts him, Yoongi takes care of him, and Jungkook isn't sure that there's ever been another person as attuned to his needs, anyone who makes him feel quite as precious as he does now, in Yoongi's arms and warm, so warm. He'd do anything to make an eternity out of his moment, for the two of them to be always together like this, so much love that Jungkook thinks he could practically drown in it.

Yoongi kisses him. Presses his palm against Jungkook's neck. Yoongi drives himself into Jungkook time and time again, and it's barely an instant every time Yoongi pulls away, but even that brief second is enough for Jungkook to feel the ache of loss, eager to feel Yoongi in him again. And then Yoongi's encouraging Jungkook to come, and there's a small whimper in Jungkook's throat — the pressure is so much that it almost hurts, not being able to touch and relieve himself. It doesn't escape Jungkook's notice that Yoongi isn't touching him either, and so Jungkook blinks his eyes open, fixates on Yoongi's in turn.

"I'm gonna, you're gonna make me come—"

Yoongi is asking more of him, and Jungkook wants nothing more than to acquiesce, staring into Yoongi's eyes, blown dark and gaze intent. Jungkook raises his hands up to Yoongi's, encouraging him to press just a little harder, his breath grown thin and reedy as it passes between his lips, and his lungs feel like they're afire, every inch of his skin ablaze, and Jungkook can't hear himself but he feels the cry that's lodged in his throat, only escaping once he finally finds release. Jungkook gasps, tightening around Yoongi as his body pitches forward; comes in waves, a repeating stanza that cuts through the stars in his vision.

Having said it once, Yoongi doesn't know why he hasn't said it a thousand times. There's such a potency in that feeling of knowing Jungkook is his, that someone he loves loves him in turn that deeply, that the person he holds dearest is his. It's a bond nothing could ever unravel, he thinks, and the same way he feels a giddiness in pledging himself to Jungkook, there's a thrill that comes with claiming him in turn.

Just as intense is the burning within him as he watches Jungkook, enthralled and adoring, as the younger boy presses at Yoongi's hand. Jungkook has never asked him to prove himself, has only ever trusted him, and still, Yoongi thinks, he wants to spend a lifetime showing that he's worth that boundless trust. He wants to make sure he spends all his days showing Jungkook how utterly loved he is, and that he was right to be drawn to Yoongi, because Yoongi loves him more than anything or anyone, more than anyone else ever could. And it's not a slight on anyone else or against Jungkook; it's just that Yoongi knows that what he feels for Jungkook is special, all-encompassing. No one could ever hope to touch it because it has no limit. So he presses a little harder, the heel of his palm notched against Jungkook's throat, and even if the way his breath grows thin concerns Yoongi, he lets himself trust that Jungkook will push him away if it gets to be too much. And the way Jungkook blazes, flushed and desperate and so, so beautiful, makes him feel he's doing something right.

He's so close himself, perched right on the edge of orgasm, drawing in breaths as deep and steadying as he can, counterpoint to Jungkook's. Determined to see this through, he keeps fucking him hard, until Jungkook cries out, clenching down around Yoongi's cock as he comes, warmth painted against Yoongi's stomach. It's fascinating and stunning and Yoongi only half-sees because all it really takes is for those tight depths to get tighter still for him to come, too, a desperate groan in his throat. He lets go of Jungkook's neck and plants his hand by his head instead, hips still rocking almost convulsively as he rests their foreheads together, gasping for air. His climax shudders through him, everything electricity and sudden sparking pleasure, vision gone white as he slows and finally stills.

Coming untouched is always an intense experience. Something about the lack of touch, the way it leaves Jungkook both wanting and overstimulated all at once, it settles into his skin with blanketed warmth. He whimpers softly as Yoongi's own climax follows, feeling the wet heat spread inside of him, shivering as he tilts his head just in time for their foreheads to press together. He can't tell which one of them is trembling, or perhaps they both are, the movements almost in tandem as they collapse into one another, limbs spent and heavy. Belatedly, Jungkook realizes that he didn't even have the capacity to keep his eyes on Yoongi as he came, and Jungkook thinks it's too bad, he missed it, that moment of pure bliss — rosy, parted lips and skin aglow with the exertion.

Maybe that's part of why Jungkook longs to cling now to Yoongi, hands still bound but fingers curling as Jungkook raises them, brushing his knuckles against Yoongi's skin. He leans up, seeking kisses even as his breath remains uneven, body still seeking air to fill his lungs but trying to keep things calm, quiet, waiting for Yoongi's permission to unravel fully. This is different than the harried passion they shared in the aquarium, however much Jungkook loved that experience as well. This is Jungkook leaving himself exposed, love stripped bare for Yoongi to behold, and as terrifying as it is sometimes to leave his fate in another person's hands, it also feels right. Relieving.

Safe.

"I love you so much," Jungkook whispers. "Just wanna stay like this forever."

"I love you," Yoongi whispers back, punctuating his words with another soft kiss before he adds, "More than anything." He doesn't really want to move either, but he also doesn't want to put all of his weight on Jungkook, and propping himself back up isn't an option, so he eases out of and off of him anyway. There's no reason they can't just stay here, curled up in each other's arms, but first, he has to release Jungkook's arms. Reaching for his hands, he presses a kiss to each palm in turn before carefully undoing the knots that hold the ribbon in place. His fingers are slippery, his arms tired, but he's not just going to leave Jungkook bound, if only because he wants to be held.

And, admittedly, because resting on his side like this, legs still tangled with Jungkook's, gives him the opportunity just to look at him, lets him take in the sweet sight of Jungkook, somehow at once breathless and composed. Peaceful, Yoongi thinks, and it makes his heart ache with happiness to see him this way. God knows they fucking deserve some peace. "Are you okay?" he murmurs as he works at the ribbons. "Your... Did I press too hard?" He nods to Jungkook, indicating his throat with a flick of his gaze. Tossing the ribbon aside, he tugs Jungkook close, pulling him into his arms. Even if he's fairly certain that Jungkook enjoyed them, Yoongi takes this part of sex seriously, checking in before, during, and after. As long as they're both enjoying themselves, he's open to a lot of things, but no thrill is worth risking Jungkook's comfort or safety. Even as he waits for an answer, though, he can't stop touching him, lifting his hand to stroke Jungkook's hair.

In many ways, the release from bondage is just as enjoyable as being tied in the first place. Jungkook watches, words forgotten and with bated breath, as Yoongi takes to each hand, pressing his lips gently against the heel, thumbs brushing against any space of skin that has been chafed by the ribbons. Such tenderness would be impossible, Jungkook thinks, if it weren't for how much Yoongi loves Jungkook. It gives another excuse for Jungkook to watch Yoongi's fingers, long and nimble, yet again skating over Jungkook like he's the most precious instrument of all.

By the time Yoongi finishes, Jungkook's beaming, his cheeks aching with the effort.

"I'm so good," Jungkook laughs, the sound bubbling over as he leans back into the bed, doubly spent now that he's been freed from his constraints. He lets himself be pulled into Yoongi's embrace, then shifts slightly to wrap Yoongi in his own, a kiss to the temple and a kiss to the cheek. When Yoongi's in control, he's commanding, alluring in a way that Jungkook's pretty sure none of the other boys have seen, but as soon as they're done, Jungkook finds himself simply wanting to wrap Yoongi up and to hold him close. "You didn't press too hard; it was really nice. I didn't think you'd actually go for it, but... god, it was hot. Just a huge head rush, I dunno how else to describe it."

Yoongi likes this part just as much as the sex, he's found, albeit in a different way. It's just nice to get to relax in Jungkook's arms, sated and loose-limbed and happy, looking at the boy he loves so much. Jungkook presses little kisses to his forehead, to his cheek, and Yoongi watches him, smiling fondly and so, so happy. Before they started dating, he knows, he wasn't nearly as content a person. He wondered too much what others really felt about him, about his place in things. He still does sometimes. With Jungkook, though, there's no doubting, no moment where he has to question this. Jungkook loves him. It feels good to be so sure of that.

"Yeah?" he asks, almost a hum, hand skimming along Jungkook's shoulder and down to his waist. It wasn't something he'd really planned on doing until he was doing it, but watching Jungkook describe it, he's glad he tried. There's still research to be done and practice, too, to be sure he's being as careful as possible, but it's reassuring to have tried and gotten it right — and looking as Jungkook, he has no doubt he really did. "It was pretty hot. There's just... something about how much you trust me. And how much you liked it." Next time, he thinks, he won't have to think so much about what he's doing and he'll enjoy it all the more for that. For now, just seeing how much Jungkook got off on it was hot enough in its own right. Yoongi won't forget the way Jungkook pressed at his hand, encouraging him to hold his throat all the tighter.

There's always a bit of warring in Jungkook's mind between wanting to clean himself up and wanting to savor the afterglow. It won't be long before their skin turns clammy, and come isn't exactly pleasant once it's drying. But when Jungkook closes his eyes, the scale seems to tip much more easily in favor of staying in bed — the sheets will get changed tomorrow morning anyway, and there's something heady about smelling sex all over Yoongi. With his vision still obscured, Jungkook traces his fingertips along the curve of Yoongi's shoulder, back to the shoulder blades, down along his spine, enjoying all the freedom of touch and movement that he had been denied only minutes before.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it with anyone else," Jungkook muses to himself. "I won't want to do it with anyone else, ever. It's... I don't know, it's still probably kind of messed up that I like this stuff, right? It's not just about the head rush, though. I think some of why I like it so much is — when it gets hard to breathe, you start seeing all of these sparks at the corner of your vision. So many colors that you can't get by painting on canvas. And then things start to seem darker, but it's not scary, it's... kind of like that moment before you fall asleep. So you're lying there, and you're so turned on, but you're also calm and you know that no matter what happens, the last thing you'll see right then is the face of the person you love most."

He turns, blindly seeking out Yoongi's lips, hitting them slightly off-center with a kiss.

It feels like something Jungkook needs to work out for himself aloud, but that doesn't stop Yoongi from having something to say about it. He leans in, meeting Jungkook's kiss first, hand wandering along his back. Pressed close together like this, he's at once all too aware of the state they're in and too comfortable to do anything about it. There's a lot to unpack about what Jungkook says, and Yoongi wonders briefly if he'd enjoy it himself; when Jungkook describes it, it mostly sounds nice, almost peaceful. But he knows himself well enough to be reasonably certain he'd just start panicking instead of being able to relax into it, and that would spoil the whole thing. Better to leave it to Jungkook, better to learn how to do it right to give him that experience.

"As long as you're careful," he says. "If it's too much, you have to stop me." More than that, he needs to learn how to recognize it for himself. It occurs to him belatedly that he wouldn't know what going too far looks like, and, if he'd crossed that point, Jungkook might not have been able to tell him. He reminds himself that he didn't, that it's fine. He has to put the same faith in Jungkook that the younger places in him. "And it's not — there's nothing messed up about it, okay?" Plenty of people get off on things just as dangerous, if not more so, even if that isn't the aspect Jungkook seems to be into. Jungkook's hardly the only person in the world who likes to be choked, and Yoongi will be damned if he lets Jungkook think less of himself for something that is, at worst, simply uncommon. "Just because not everyone likes it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it. As long as we're safe and we're enjoying it, I don't see a problem."

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