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Closer Still (touch me again)

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In all honesty, it’s too early for Jungkook to be in bed. The summer air is muggy and dense, right between instant sunburn and humid sweat. It’s nap weather; weather that prevents any form of productivity, the knowledge of the heat outside uncomfortable even in the air conditioning. At least for Jungkook.

Yoongi is finishing off something or other for his project, playing and replaying snippets of music whilst Jungkook half-listens from his spot on the mattress. It isn’t quite dark yet, the sky barely turning grey-ish as the sun creeps away. Sunsets at this time of year are the best, he thinks, yellow and orange until the absolute last second, occasionally pink and purple will creep in along the horizon.

The air in Yoongi’s bedroom is cool in a comforting way, cool enough for Jungkook to lay with a sheet draped across him, but still just the right temperature that he can let his feet stick out of a gap at the bottom. He isn’t asleep; instead he’s floating somewhere half-conscious, running his feet along the cool cotton of the bed absent-mindedly, focused in on the drag it creates across his skin, and the occasional blow of the air-conditioning dragging it’s way up his body.

Yoongi’s had the house to himself for a few days, something about a business trip. Yoongi, much to Jungkook’s disappointment, spent the first few days locked up in is room and working on this project, far from Jungkook’s fantasies of Netflix binging and a three day long sleepover. Yoongi has talked about getting an apartment of his own, somewhere between his university in the city and Jungkook’s college here. But he’s in no rush, and Jungkook is content to enjoy the break as it is before they’re both separated again.

Once it hits somewhere close to eight pm, when the air outside gets a little cooler, Yoongi has to reach up to shut the blinds, the natural light no longer of any benefit. Jungkook decides that he’s waited long enough, the fading light pulling him from his half-daze and plunging him into impatience.

“Hyung.”

“Mmhm.” Yoongi slips one earphone off slightly, but doesn’t turn around.

“Hyuuuuung.” Jungkook knows he sounds whiny, but Yoongi still doesn’t seem to take much notice.

“Yeah?”

“Hyung.” Jungkook throws a pillow at the back of Yoongi’s head, missing him by just enough for it to be embarrassing.

Just as he’s about to give up, to take a proper nap until Yoongi is finished for real, there’s a face burying itself in his neck, a sudden weight draped over his whole body.

The headphones are swinging from the desk with the force that Yoongi threw them off with.

“Yeah Kook?” It’s right in his ear.

“You’re so fucking heavy.” Jungkook groans.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Yoongi angles himself so that his hipbones are pressing right into Jungkook’s stomach, right where it hurts.

“Fuck, I take it back, I-I take it back.”

Yoongi lets up with a breathy laugh, shuffling down Jungkook’s body until he can make eye contact with him. Jungkook could stand up right now with Yoongi clutched to his chest, wouldn’t even feel his weight at all. But he still feels small, safe, closed in from the rest of the world.

“Hyung.”

“Stop saying that punk ass, I’m listening.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook likes this, likes winding Yoongi up, always has. He lives to see the elder pout a little, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of frustrated.

“Brat.” Yoongi digs his fingers into Jungkook’s sides, and Jungkook jots, struggles, screams a little. Yoongi laughs.

“I love your laugh.” Jungkook doesn’t mean to actually say it.

“Don’t tease me.” Yoongi’s head is tucking its way back between Jungkook’s neck and shoulder, his breath making him all shuddery.

“I really do.” He brings a comforting arm around Yoongi’s shoulders.

He doesn’t reply.

They stay like this for a while, with Jungkook petting up and down the elder’s sides, hands firm enough that it makes him feel safe, secure. Just soft enough for him to feel loved. Their thighs are slotted together, and for a long time it’s just simple, comfortable, warm.

The light is finally bleeding from the sky, the shadows from the blinds becoming less distinct as the sun finally sets. The lamplight from the desk casts soft orange shadows across the room, making strands of Yoongi’s blonde hair glow almost pink.

It’s mere minutes before Yoongi’s breath fanning against his neck and the slight pressure all down his body starts to bother Jungkook, it rounds the corner from warm to a little too hot.

Jungkook has thought about Yoongi before, thought about his lips on his and his hands around his waist. Thought about his thigh between his legs and his hands holding his wrists. Thought about the heat all over his body, running through his veins.

But they’re on a road, probably a long one, they’re learning to trust, they’re learning to love. Jungkook wants to take and take, and to give all of himself.

He knows that Yoongi is learning to trust himself as well.

He always wants Jungkook to remember that he doesn’t have to, that they can stop at any time. And that’s just when they’re making out. Jungkook is grateful for the care, but he’s frustrated. He likes being treated like he’s something precious, but doesn’t like feeling fragile.

So he’s been backing off.

But Jungkook wants this, he’s wanted it for so long. But he doesn’t not sure when to stop waiting, when to ask.

How to say what he wants.

“Hyung.” It’s a little more desperate now, erring on the side of needy.

Jungkook knows that Yoongi can feel the bulge of where he’s pressing into his thigh ever so slightly, can feel the heat that wasn’t there before. It’s still comfortable, safe, but there’s something more urgent tingeing the edges, something electric in the air.

“Hyung, please.” Jungkook ruts up once, so slowly, carefully, ready to back off. But he’s been waiting so patiently just to convince Yoongi that it’s okay.

But Yoongi isn’t moving away, he stays, shifts a little, presses his thigh further between Jungkook’s.

“Kiss me.” And Yoongi does, he’s on him in less than a second, licking over the seam of his lips and Jungkook is opening his mouth ever so slightly into the kiss.

This is familiar, but something is different because Jungkook’s hips keep jumping up and he can’t stop pulling Yoongi in further, closer than he thinks is even physically possible.

“Hyung- please.”

Yoongi pulls back- for a second Jungkook thinks he’s gone too far, assumed too much. But then he’s spinning, being pulled up, crawling into Yoongi’s lap before he realises. This way, he’s seated right on the elder’s lap, thighs framing his body where he’s resting back against the headboard and it’s so easy to rut his hips down.

His lips are pressing back against Yoongi’s. It’s a slow give and take, a maddening push and pull. There are hands on his hips, pressing him down a little firmer, in a way that Jungkook thinks is saying keep going.

It might have been seconds or hours but there are fingers brushing against the waistline of his sweats, a muffled “‘s okay?” against his lips, a desperate nod in return from Jungkook.

Yoongi’s hands don’t go straight down, but rather move away from the elastic and instead down to cup Jungkook through the fabric. He’s just tracing up and down, too slow to be satisfying, fingers digging lightly around the outline of his hardening dick.

It’s almost frustrating, but at the same time so, so good.

“Please.” Jungkook feels like he’s gasping for air, clinging to Yoongi because he’s never felt this good.

“Can I?” Yoongi is looking him right in the eye, serious enough to snap Jungkook out of his stupor for just long enough to say yes, god hyung, please yes.

Then Yoongi’s hands are on him, one pulling down his waistband, the other pulling his dick out just enough to let him press it between the flat of his palm and Jungkook’s stomach. He feels his cock throb, harden fully, and ruts up into the tight, warm space.

Jungkook’s head is thrown back, brow furrowed as Yoongi thumbs at the head, smooths the precum down his shaft to ease the slide. His other hand is firm at the base of Jungkook’s spine, pressing him close as his fingers tease lightly up and down his cock. Yoongi groans at the familiar weight of Jungkook on his lap, the way he rolls his hips up ever so slightly, the way he’s already edging on desperate.

“No sense in doing this dry.” Yoongi is pulling away for a second; the cold air against Jungkook’s dick is unpleasant. But before he can complain, there’s a hand back on him and the slide is so much wetter, so much better. Jungkook realises distantly that Yoongi just spat in his hand and it sends a new wave of pleasure right towards his dick.

Jungkook is letting out little sounds, somewhere between a moan and a whine, and Yoongi is drinking them in, basking in the fact that he’s the one doing this, it’s Jungkook in his lap and he’s making him desperate. he throws his head forward and buries it in the shoulder in front of him.

“Fuck Kook, you’re so good for me, look at you.”

Yoongi feels Jungkook’s cock twitch in his palm, watches him get a little redder in the face, as he brings an arm up over his eyes.

“Don’t.” Yoongi reaches up to pull his hand away from his eyes, but before he can Jungkook is grabbing onto his wrist, eyes dark.

“Wha-“ Yoongi doesn’t finish his thought before Jungkook is sucking two of his fingers into his mouth, the movement so natural it’s scary. Watches as his lips move to pull them in a bit further, feels his tongue run down the seam to part them a little. It’s so warm, so perfectly wet and tight and overwhelming. He’s so riled up, feels all of the blood rush to his dick and his head spin with arousal.

And Jungkook is looking down at him like he’s done nothing at all, round eyes and soft lips parted around Yoongi’s fingers. He pulls them out just a little to see his knuckles reappear before Jungkook sucks them back in again, the most lewd sounds filling the room. It’s so distracting that Yoongi almost loses his hold on Jungkook’s dick.

“Holy shit.”

Yoongi’s blood is pounding so loudly in his ears that he can’t hear himself breathing anymore, and Jungkook’s grip on his shirt is tightening by the second. He feels so heavy and wet in his hand, and when he squeezes on the upstroke and uses his thumb to trace around the head, Jungkook stops breathing altogether.

Yoongi’s fingers slip out of his mouth with a satisfying pop.

“Mm- hyung- I’m. Ah-” Jungkook pulls away from Yoongi’s shoulder, unable to do anything but curl his toes and strain his thighs a little harder.

“‘M gonna- Yoongi, need to- ‘m gonna cum.” Jungkook hiccups, makes another sound of need, and Yoongi goes a little faster, grips the head a little firmer.

Jungkook’s hips move unconsciously, pushing into the downstroke and he cries out, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Yoongi has seen most of Jungkook’s faces: the overjoyed one when Yoongi told him he was staying for a gap year, the hopeful one when Yoongi almost kissed him, the ecstatic one when Yoongi says something particularly funny, and every face in between. This, however, beats them all by far. He’s never seen the slight crease between Jungkook’s eyebrows, the twitch of his lips, the blush settling itself so prettily on his cheekbones as he comes undone.

“Hyung,” Jungkook chokes out, “please.”

“Fuck, come for me.” Yoongi shifts his shirt up his chest, Jungkook’s eyes are rolling back in his head a little.

It’s hardly any time at all before Jungkook freezes, tenses up from his hips to his shoulders, his face screwing up slightly.

Then he’s cumming, shuddering in Yoongi’s hold, arching so beautifully and so perfectly that Yoongi feels at a loss. The lamplight is shining against the sweat on his face; he’s glowing ethereally. Something electric but no longer forbidden races up Yoongi’s spine.

Jungkook moans; it’s not quite pornographic, but still lewd enough to have Yoongi’s dick twitching in his sweats, uncomfortably hot and confined. Jungkook is babbling, something between more and enough, hyung, enough. Yoongi is still stroking lightly at Jungkook’s dick, only letting up when the younger hisses a little with oversensitivity and jerks away, panting.

It takes a few minutes for him to come down, hips still twitching aimlessly as Yoongi leans him back to lay down against the bed, hair just the right type of messy that it screams sex. Yoongi wipes his hand off on his shirt, tries to clean Jungkook’s stomach up as best he can with the tissues on the bedside. It just a bit gross, but Yoongi is too hard to think of anything other than how good he looked when he came.

“Holy shit.” Jungkook is looking at Yoongi now, lifts his head up a little, stares at him with half-lidded eyes and a smirk that tells Yoongi it’s not over yet.

“I know I joke about how big your hands are hyung. But.” He pauses to breathe, still a little out of breath, “Holy fucking shit.”

Yoongi laughs, leans down to brush the hair out of his eyes and kiss him on the lips. It’s too sweet, too innocent considering what they’ve just done, and certainly what they may or may not be about to do.

It’s when the kisses start getting heavier, when they’ve been at it for a few minutes that Jungkook’s dick twitches weakly back to life against Yoongi’s thigh.

“Holy fuck you’re a menace.”

Yoongi is staring in disbelief; lips spit slick and hair pushed against his forehead. There’s a nice bruise forming between his collarbone and neck, one that Jungkook will be a little too proud of later. The first time Yoongi had sucked a hickey into the little divot just behind Jungkook’s ear, he’d moaned before immediately reciprocating. Yoongi thinks that he must like marking him up, giving and taking at the same time, leaving a memory for just a little while.

“I want-“ Jungkook’s breaths are still a little laboured; kissing him always makes the younger a bit breathless, a bit too pretty.

Jungkook moves forward a little, sits up, and grabs the bottom of Yoongi’s shirt to pull it off. Yoongi helps him, throwing it onto the floor by the bed as Jungkook reaches for his own.

When Yoongi runs his hands up Jungkook’s sides, traces the v-line of his pelvis and the slight line down his stomach, Jungkook shudders. He can see the goosebumps forming in the wake of his cold fingers, skims past a nipple just to see it harden.

Jungkook has his hands on the other as well, fingers tracing the slight dips of his ribs and the small amount of hair on his stomach. Yoongi was self conscious at some point, worried about being too pale or a little too bony, worried about the little patch of dark hair below his belly button. However, once Jungkook sucked a few dark hickeys along his collarbones and traced along each rib like it was something precious, Yoongi couldn’t be shy any longer. Instead, he revelled in the feeling of being loved, of being worshiped by the calloused pads of Jungkook’s fingers.

Yoongi wonders if he always looks like this after he comes, a little dazed, a little slack-mouthed and in awe. A little less guarded.

“What do you want?” Yoongi leans down to kiss the wonder off his lips. They’re so soft and pliant beneath his touch, and it makes him a tender, somewhat protective.

He presses the pad of his thumb against Jungkook’s bottom lip just to feel it give, just to feel the soft, warm heat envelope his fingertip. Jungkook groans and pulls back.

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

Jungkook immediately goes back to kissing him, meanwhile he’s grabbing one of Yoongi’s wrists and bringing it between his legs. A little further down than he’d been expecting. When Yoongi opens his mouth to protest, Jungkook cuts him off.

“Before you ask. I’m sure, I want this.”

Yoongi’s hand is still hovering dumbly between Jungkook’s thighs, frozen along with the rest of his body.

“Unless.” Jungkook looks a little unsure, a little regretful, “You don’t have to. I can suck you off or, I can just watch, or we can stop and watch Netflix. I just thought I’d offer because-“

Yoongi finally moves, runs a soft thumb along Jungkook’s cheek, past the small scar he got when he was a kid. Yoongi can’t quite remember if it was a rose bush or a bike accident near the creek.

“I,” he swallows, “I want to.”

Jungkook looks relieved, but still a bit expectant when he senses that Yoongi has more to say.

“But, we have time. We don’t have to rush this stuff. I don’t want to rush anything. I don’t want to force you to do anything.” Jungkook looks like he’s about to protest.

“I don’t want you to force yourself to do anything. I-I’m not that experienced either and uh, you don’t have to bottom if you don’t want. Or top. We don’t have to do anything if. If you don’t want.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh a little, to stop Yoongi from ranting any further. “Hyung, I just told you I wanted to. If you want to fuck me,” Yoongi chokes a little, eyes wide, “you can, I want you to. If you don’t, I said we can stop or figure something else out. God we’re being such adults about this.”

“Okay.” Yoongi says simply.

“Okay? Okay what?”

“I’ll finger you and we can go from there. If you want.”

“I do.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

In the midst of all this discussion, Jungkook’s dick has softened a little. It’s not awkward, they know each other too well and for too long for it to be awkward.

It’s a little awkward.

So when Yoongi crosses the room to find a condom and lube, hoping it’s not embarrassingly half-full or almost empty, Jungkook takes of his sweats entirely. It’s easy for him to stroke himself back to hardness with the view of Yoongi’s smooth back and his sweats low on his hips.

When Yoongi turns around with a thankfully almost-full bottle of lube and an obvious bulge in the front of his sweats, he’s greeted with Jungkook laid out across the bed, his dick in his hand and his bare, unblemished legs bent and spread apart. It’s all too much for a second, Yoongi has to close his eyes and swear, thanks himself for probably saving a city in his past life.

“Come on old man, show me what you’ve got.” Jungkook spreads his legs a little further apart, a little more teasing.

“You’re going to kill me.” Yoongi is on him faster than he can blink, hands smoothing across his thighs and hips like they’re going to disappear. He remembers his gap year when Jungkook had come to hang out right after soccer practice, shorts a little too high up his thighs and hair a little too disheveled for Yoongi to forget about when he was trying to fall asleep that night.

This is every fantasy he’s ever had on steroids, feels like a wet dream that he never thought he’d ever have.

“Also I’m barely a year older than you.” Yoongi pushes his knees up and apart just a little, tests the stretch, almost cums on the spot when he lets go and they stay in place, parted, bouncing a little from the rebound.

“Still old.” He’s so smooth, Yoongi thinks, how is he so smooth?

Jungkook isn’t hairless, but it’s sparse and his skin is so soft and unblemished, honey-toned expanses with just the occasional mole or scar.

“You’re so pretty. Are you even real?” The mood switches from teasing back to something hotter, heavier, it’s so quick that Jungkook almost gets whiplash. Nevertheless, he’s keeping up, wiggling his hips as an invitation.

“Go on and find out for yourself.” Jungkook has that dark look in his eyes again, half wicked, half wanting. Just the right side of lustful.

When Yoongi runs a dry finger along Jungkook’s perineum, ever so lightly circling his hole, he feels Jungkook tense, hips twitching a little, a small sound of surprise escaping from his lips.

“Okay?” Yoongi is reaching for the lube, thrown next to the pillow supporting Jungkook’s head.

“Yeah, keep going.” Jungkook looks and the ceiling, prays that he doesn’t finish as soon as Yoongi gets a finger inside of him.

Then the finger is there again, cold enough that Jungkook jumps.

“Sorry,” Yoongi smiles, “’s cold.”

He isn’t sorry for long, however, because he’s circling around and applying just enough pressure that Jungkook can feel himself give way a little. When the tip of his finger slips in, Jungkook’s mouth goes slack.

“You’re doing good.” Yoongi pushes it in all the way, the burn is familiar, but it’s weird that it isn’t him doing it for once.

It’s soon after that the burn is non-existent, the bend in Yoongi’s finger all pleasure and no pain.

“Another.”

“Not yet.”

“I said another. I’m fine, I know what I’m doing.”

Yoongi slips another finger in, and soon after Jungkook is crying out when they find his prostate. He loves this feeling, still aware of his surroundings, but still fuzzy. When he gets really into it all, he zeroes in, notices nothing but the feeling of skin against his and the pressure that builds slowly in his stomach.

For now, he’s in a headspace where he hasn’t disappeared just yet, notices that Yoongi’s door is just a little ajar where the yellow hallway light paints a stripe across the floor, notices that Yoongi’s computer has gone into sleep mode, running through pictures of forests and seascapes, notices that Yoongi is staring down at him with a look that screams love.

Jungkook’s head lolls back against the pillow, and he smiles up at Yoongi as small waves of pleasure wash over him. It feels like the tide is slowly coming in, waves lapping gently up against the shore. This could be his favorite feeling in the world, a little hazy, a little happy, very content.

“You good?” Yoongi has added another finger in the meantime, probably not out of necessity, but precaution. Jungkook doesn’t mind feeling fragile so much anymore.

“Never better.” One of Yoongi’s eyebrows is rising in surprise, looking humored and very pleased.

“I’m good, I’m ready.”

“You can finish like this if you want. We don’t have to-“

Jungkook lets out a long breath, “Hyuuuung.”

“Alright, alright.”

Jungkook moves his hips away from Yoongi’s fingers for a second, jumping when Yoongi grazes his prostate once more before pulling out. He stares at his lube covered fingers for a second, wiping them off on Jungkook’s thigh with a look that screams mischief.

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” Jungkook laughs.

“Yeah? Tell that to my fingers.”

Then Yoongi is winking in the worst way possible, making Jungkook laugh as he’s opening the condom, rolling it down his dick. The laugh morphs into a moan fairly quickly when the pressure returns, when Yoongi’s lining up, the head slipping in just a little.

It occurs to Jungkook how long Yoongi has been hard for, and he wonders how he’s waited for this long. He’s not waiting any longer apparently, because as soon as Jungkook nods, he’s pushing in slowly, all the way. Jungkook holds his breath as he lets himself adjust, hips moving just a little to feel the stretch, legs wrapping around Yoongi’s back.

“Breathe baby.”

He lets out a breath, and a shudder at the name. When he nods again, Yoongi is pushing in the final last inch, somehow getting even deeper, before pulling back just slightly.

When Yoongi thrusts once, his grip on Jungkook’s thighs tightens, eyes screwing shut a little when Jungkook moans. Then he’s going again, and again, just slow enough that it’s edging on too careful.

“You can go faster- Ah!”

Then Yoongi’s demeanor breaks, he’s fucking into Jungkook in short, sharp bursts, still careful enough but fast enough that they both feel the room get hotter.

“Fuck.” All Jungkook can do is twist his fingers into the sheets and arch his back, his knees falling apart, enough so that Yoongi can grab ahold of his thighs and spread them, getting deep enough that Jungkook jolts.

“Holy shit, Kook, I’m not gonna last long.”

“Me either.” Yoongi is hitting just shy of his prostate, but the position makes it impossible for him to get any closer without hurting Jungkook, no matter how much he arches his back.

“Fuck, hyung, pull out.” The thrusts stop quickly, Yoongi is letting go of his legs gently before he’s falling back onto the mattress and away from Jungkook. For a second, he’s unresponsive, looks like he’s composing himself, breathing in deeply. Then he’s on Jungkook in a matter of moments.

“You good? Did I hurt you?” Yoongi looks so worried that Jungkook heart hurts for a second, before he cracks a smile.

“I’m fine, I just-“ he pulls Yoongi towards him, shifting out of the way so that Yoongi is sitting exactly where he was, still looking terribly concerned and terribly hard. Jungkook straddles his thighs, places his hands on Yoongi’s chest.

“Wanted to be in charge for a second.” He’s reaching behind himself, lining Yoongi’s dick up, and in a moment of understanding, Yoongi moans. Jungkook begins to sink down.

“Ah!” He’s overwhelmed, it’s so much more like this, so much more intense.

“Go slow, go slow,” Yoongi is holding his hips, pulling him up wards if anything to slow the slide, “holy shit, just take it slow.” Yoongi’s voice is strained, maybe with the effort that it’s taking him not to pull Jungkook’s ass flush with his hips and thrust up.

Jungkook is seated for a second, circling his hips just to get used to the new stretch, he relaxes just a little more. Yoongi’s knuckles turn white and Jungkook shudders when he somehow gets deeper, head lined up against Jungkook’s sensitive walls. Jungkook circles his hips confidently this time, testing out the differing angles as Yoongi’s dick moves inside him.

“Yoongi,” it’s barely a whimper this time.

“Go slow, Kook, it’s good, it’s so good.”

Jungkook lifts his hips, and Yoongi is there helping him, thrusting up slightly when he sinks back down. After a few minutes of this, and Jungkook’s lips brushing against his, too overwhelmed to kiss for real, he gains momentum.

When he sinks down more harshly, Yoongi’s dick pressing right up against his prostate, both of them know that they won’t last. Jungkook gets frantic, hiccupping quietly between moans and Yoongi is squeezing his hips firmly to ground him, to remind him to breathe.

Yoongi feels himself cumming first, cock throbbing inside Jungkook as he lets go, Jungkook moaning when he feels Yoongi tense up and shudder, circling his hips as Yoongi comes down. Yoongi doesn’t really make a noise when he comes, but Jungkook has seen him cry before and he’s silent then as well. Although there’s no expletive, no porn-star moan, no whine, his face says it all. His lips fall open, shining with spit and red from being bitten, not just by himself, he frowns a little, head tilting back. But most of all, his whole body tenses up, hard. Except for his hands on Jungkook’s hips, if anything they soften slightly, but Pull Jungkook closer. It’s moments like these that make Jungkook feel loved, the moments that neither of them are truly conscious of.

The hands on his hips are firmer, stilling his movement lifting as Yoongi goes to pull out. Jungkook tightens almost alarmingly, feeling Yoongi hiss with oversensitivity.

“Don’t pull out.” Jungkook is almost frantic, so hard it hurts, so close he’s shuddering.

“What? But I-“

“Just,” Jungkook wraps Yoongi’s hand around his dick, “here, just don’t pull out yet.”

Yoongi thumbs a significant amount of precum down the younger’s shaft, dick red and heavy beneath his fingers, He circles the head, hand moving down to the base as the other digs a thumb beneath the head. He must find a good spot because Jungkook jots, arches his back as Yoongi toys with his balls where they’re pressed between them.

It’s too much, Yoongi is oversensitive and Jungkook is tightening and moving his hips on Yoongi’s cock. With previously unfound strength, Yoongi is grabbing Jungkook’s hips, stilling him.

“Ah- Kook, it’s too much. ‘M gonna pull out. Hurts.”

Jungkook is nodding immediately, but ultimately looks displeased as Yoongi is lifting him off his cock, wincing a little as he’s being laid down on the bed once again, and Yoongi’s shifting to crowd him in against the mattress.

Jungkook is whimpering with the emptiness, hips shifting and incomprehensible babble spilling from his lips. His empty ass clenches and unclenches visibly in the cold air and it almost makes Yoongi’s dick twitch back to life before he’s pushing two fingers back into Jungkook, still wet with lube and gaping a little.

“So good,” Yoongi finds his prostate, and Jungkook arches impossibly, head thrown back and hands tangled in the sheets. Yoongi gets a hand around Jungkook’s dick and squeezes, thumb tracing the head and fingers stroking mercilessly over his prostate, and Jungkook cums.

Hard.

His vision goes white for a second, and he’s shaking as Yoongi works him through the high. He half-yells in a way that’s more erotic than Yoongi could ever dream, shuddering uncontrollable, writhing as strings of cum paint Yoongi’s hand and his stomach, dribbling down to cover his balls. It’s impossibly dirty, and Yoongi thinks back to all of the bad-quality porn he’s ever seen and wonders how any of it could compare.

Then the pleasure gives way to pain and Jungkook is shifting down the bed, off Yoongi’s fingers, breathing hard. His hips are still twitching and there’s lube dripping out of his asshole, and Yoongi might have used a little too much but the view is well worth washing his sheets.

“Holy shit.” Jungkook is pulling his legs back together, face screwing up when he feels himself leak a little more.

“Sorry hyung but I think,” He sits up, pressing his legs together, “your sheets are almost definitely ruined.”

Yoongi just laughs and leans towards him, throwing an arm around him and letting he younger rest his head on his shoulder. “So worth it.”

“Right?”

“Ten out of ten would do again.”

Jungkook looks scandalized and slaps his chest jokingly, before leaning in to kiss him. It’s a little sloppy, a bit wet and lazy and gross. But neither of them could want for anything more.

“I’d try to clean you up like the gentlemen I am, but honestly I don’t think there’s much I can do except carry you to the shower.” Yoongi says apologetically, still smiling.

“I can walk myself, but a shower does sound good right now.”

Yoongi helps him off the bed, but Jungkook sways just a little.

“Fuck my thighs are dead.” He complains.

“I’ll make you waffles in the morning then, good muscle food.” Yoongi opens the bathroom door the tiles are cold on Jungkook’s bare feet, a little too sharp and real for the headspace he’s still floating in.

They make their way across the room and Yoongi turns the water on, one hand around Jungkook’s waist and the other under the spray of the water, testing the temperature.

“You know that isn’t true.” It takes a second for Yoongi to follow, the pause being so long. He wonders if Jungkook is always like this after he’s been fucked, just a bit slow and a bit somewhere-else.

He has plenty of time to find out.

“So no waffles?” Yoongi helps him into the shower, over the ledge and under the warm spray of the water. He shudders at the heat on his skin and the shower head is a little bit too harsh on his sensitive back, but nice nonetheless.

“No, definitely waffles. I’m still growing.” Jungkook helps Yoongi in too, runs a hand through his hair and pulls him under the stream of water with a short kiss.

“God, I hope not.” Yoongi jokes.

“Don’t be mean to me, I just came so hard I literally saw stars.” Jungkook is rubbing shampoo into his hair, handing the bottle to Yoongi to do the same.

“Fine, but only ‘cause I love you.” Yoongi jostles, swapping places with Jungkook to wash the shampoo out of his hair. Jungkook stops for a second, looks down.

Yoongi sees the stars in his eyes, every star he calls home.

“I love you too.”