Yoongi liked to believe that he was a responsible, respected adult; mature in the ways that mattered. Jin never needed to shout at him for breaking shit around the house (unlike namjoon who simply had to breathe). He never held up the group because he was late (unlike jimin who took two hours to put on a fucking shirt). He could be the voice of reason in the mad house that was bangtan, somebody others looked to for advice.
So for the life of him, he couldn’t explain why he felt like a scolded child right now staring at his boyfriend. It’d been 5 days since, what jungkook so fondly(?) called, the “Senpai Noticed Me” incident. Despite being actual failures at communication and all skills surrounding that, he and jungkook had managed to talk like the adults they allegedly were. Yoongi hadn’t known what to expect of the younger’s mood, with it being as fickle as the wind. One moment he’d be an angry bunny, then a jealous bunny, then a sad bunny, then a sassy bunny, and, well. Yoongi just wanted his happy bunny. But the younger had come with a mature, willing attitude, pleasantly surprising yoongi, who knew how childish his boyfriend could be at times.
Not that it was a bad thing.
That wasn’t the problem though. The problem was that ever since they had the Talk, jungkook had been strange; distant. At first, it wasn’t noticeable. The first few days after the Talk and jungkook had been all over him. Then. Then he started withdrawing, not just from yoongi, but from everyone. Wouldn’t talk unless spoken to, wouldn’t laugh unless everyone else did, wouldn’t smile unless someone was watching him. The maknae’s eyes would become blank and distant whenever he thought no one was looking, and it worried yoongi. Badly.
He hadn’t seen jungkook’s eyes this blank ever. Not even when jungkook first joined the band, and his self-esteem issues were harder to conquer than Mt. Everest. It hurt a part of yoongi that he had never opened to anyone else, except for jungkook. A deep, dark part of him that still believed that his time with jungkook had an expiration date. A small part of him which still can’t fathom why, for any reason, jungkook could ever want him. A hopeless part of him that wasn’t sure he’d make it until next year without jungkook.
I can't describe how your eyes are like the ocean and how your smile can light up a
whole room and how your existence can make me feel like my world isn't falling apart.
Creeping. That’s what jungkook was doing. Being a fucking creep by watching yoongi sleep. He couldn’t help it though. Not when his boyfriend had skin like a porcelain doll, and lips as red as roses (damn, he should be a poet). He’d woken up earlier than yoongi, which was common enough, but this time from his pent-up lust from the night before. After having his orgasm delayed more than three times and then denied completely, jungkook had a lot of frustration built up.
Though, as he watched his boyfriend sleep, the frustration melted away, leaving behind awe and lust.
Yoongi started to stir, lips parting and lashes fluttering. Jungkook can’t help but wonder how such delicate, dainty features could hold the cruelest smirks and such a sadistic mind. Not that he was complaining.
Startled, the younger blinks down at his sleep-dazed boyfriend, before flushing an alluring red.
“I’m not a creep, hyung.”
“Is that why you’re staring at me while I sleep?” A small, smug smirk flits across yoongi’s features.
“S-Shut up!” Mortification turns his ears redder, blush traveling down his neck.
Yoongi simply smirks, before stretching like a cat. Jungkook stares at the rapper’s lithe body, mouth drying at the slivers of skin he spots where yoongi’s shirt rises. His view of yoongi’s stomach is ruined when the older rolls off the bed and makes his way to the joint bathroom.
“Hyuungg, where are you going?” He would never admit to the whiney tone that accompanied the question.
“Kook-ah, brush your teeth. No one likes morning breath.”
Grumbling, jungkook follows. Yoongi better fucking make him come today, or jungkook was going to die of blue balls. He finds yoongi brushing his teeth in the bathroom, hooded eyes connecting with his in the mirror. He fishes out his toothbrush from the holder on the sink.
Glancing back up jungkook realizes yoongi is staring at him, hooded eyes holding a wicked glint. Blushing, jungkook finishes up brushing. Placing the brush back in the holder, he watches yoongi go through his morning skincare routine, something jungkook never bothered with. Watching his boyfriend lean over the sink to get closer to the mirror, his eyes start trailing down the elder’s body, stopping at his ass.
Without even consciously thinking about it, jungkook presses himself up against yoongi’s bent body, slightly grinding into the other. Meeting yoongi’s eyes in the mirror, he can see the surprise and then smug satisfaction. Yoongi sets down the moisturizer he had been patting onto his face and braces his arms on the sink as he grinds back. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, small noises catching at the back of his throat. The firm pressure on his hardening dick electrifying his nerves.
“Eager, baby?” the deep baritone wraps around him, slackening his body.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, want you to fuck me, please.”
“You seem to want to fuck me right now.”
“Hyuung. You know I don’t top for shit.”
“That’s true. You’re a horrible top.”
“Fuck you too.”
Yoongi pauses in his motions, “You do realize how ironic that is, right?”
Jungkook just presses harder into yoongi’s body. “Fuck you, fuck me, same thing. I just really need some fucking to happen right about now.”
“Won’t you say please, love.”
“How about I just say ‘Fuck me, daddy’, we move to the bed, and you finally make me come?”
Yoongi halts completely, head dropping down between his shoulders. Jungkook takes a moment to admire the curve of his back, the breadth of his shoulders, the soft curls of his hair.
“I’m this close to just jerking myself off, cumming on your face, and leaving you like that.” Yoongi straightens up after speaking, staring at the reflection of them standing together. Indignation flashes across jungkook’s face, and the corners of yoongi’s lips twitch.
“Yoongi, just fuck me already!” exasperation heavy in his voice, jungkook whines.
“Uh-uh, that’s not what you call me.” Yoongi’s eyes twinkle in the overhead light, and if jungkook wasn’t so completely gone for this man in front of him, he’d probably have choked him out by now.
As it is, patience faltering, he grabs the older and scoops him up, bridal style. To his credit, yoongi only flinches at the sudden move. Jungkook exits the bathroom, striding to the bed where he, gently, drops yoongi in the middle. Crawling up the bed, he hovers over yoongi on all fours, staring at his lax features.
“I can’t believe I have to ask for sex. Maybe I should just take what I want.” Jungkook leans down brushing his mouth to yoongi’s ear as both their eyes flutter shut. He buries his face into the other’s neck, mouthing at it as he scrabbles at the drawstrings of yoongi’s sweatpants.
Mouth leaving wet kisses on yoongi’s neck, he murmurs, “I could tie you to the bed, ride your dick like a toy, and get myself off. Maybe for once make you beg. Use you for my pleasure.”
Yoongi’s arms slide up from his back and loop around his neck, “Yeah, you’re my strong baby, aren’t you? Could probably pin me down with just your hands, huh?”
“You doubting me?”
“Now why would I do that, baby?” a smirk curves the corner of the elder’s lip.
“We both know I’m stronger than you, yoongi. You know I could pin you down and take what I want.” jungkook warns.
Yoongi doesn’t respond, just patiently waits. Lifting yoongi’s shirt up, jungkook pulls yoongi up off the bed to remove the shirt. Letting the other fall back down on the bed, he lets his hands roam over yoongi’s softly toned chest. Bringing his lips back to the other’s neck, jungkook mouth inches down biting and sucking. When he reaches a nipple he noses at it, before licking a trail from yoongi’s nipple to behind his ear. Yoongi startles a groan, tilting his head further to the side. Jungkook brings his head back down and sucks the hardened bud back into his mouth. Teasing it with his lips, teeth, and tongue, before suckling at it.
“You’d never be able to that though, would you.” Yoongi’s question comes out more like a statement. Jungkook can feel his chest rumbling below his mouth as he talks, and he flicks his eyes up, arching his brow in question.
Yoongi chuckles in answer, eyes flicking up to gaze at the ceiling.
“You might be able to hold me down, but you’d never try, baby.” Both brows now arched, jungkook stops his ministrations and pulls back to watch yoongi’s face.
“You sure about that?” Disbelief colors the younger’s tone.
“Oh, please. You’re too much of a spoiled baby to do much of anything.” Yoongi sits up causing jungkook to recline on his heels. He watches a veiny hand trail up his still clothed chest and then to his neck, rubbing at that erogenous spot where his neck and shoulders meet. Jungkook sags against the hand stroking at his neck, shuddering as fingers drag up his neck and towards his mouth. Two fingers tap against his mouth, and his lips automatically pop open. Yoongi wastes no time pushing two fingers into his mouth and pressing down against his tongue, hooking his mouth wide open.
“Look at you. Absolutely gagging for it. Shit. You’re so fucking desperate.” Jungkook can only desperately keen around yoongi’s finger, shame pooling in his stomach at the belittlement in Yoongi’s words.
“Not even a minute ago you were so certain about, what? Being able to take what you want from me?”
“And now. Can’t even open your mouth without drooling all over my fingers, look at that.” He stares fascinated with the way jungkook takes the fingers deeper into his mouth, almost like he wants to choke on it.
“Pathetic. Can’t do anything without hyung, can you baby? Can’t do anything without daddy’s help.”
A low guttural groan rises from the back of jungkook’s throat, and he starts to bob his head down yoongi’s fingers.
“P-pwease, ‘m y-your slut, daddy.” Jungkook promises around the fingers in his mouth, trying to appease yoongi’s gruffness.
“Oh? You’re my slut now, huh. Do you know what sluts deserve, bun?” A shake of his head. “Well, bun, sluts don’t get to come, because sluts aren’t daddy’s good boy.”
“No! No, daddy, ‘m a good boy, ‘m a good boy! Pwomise!” The younger yanks his mouth of the fingers, and fumbles to persuade yoongi.
Smirking at him, yoongi replies, “But I thought you were a slut, bun? Is bun lying to me?”
“No, daddy, bun’s- bun s’not lying, bun’s a good boy. Bun swears!”
His eyes soften as he observes jungkook’s pleading face, large doe eyes begging.
“Okay, bun, I believe you, bun just needs to be good and prove it to daddy, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah. Bun can be a good boy. Bun’s... Bun’s the best boy?”
Yoongi doesn’t reply, just quirks his lips and hums, while running his rough hands down the sides of jungkook’s clothed waist, making him squirm.
Jungkook releases a small moan, a little, “a-agh” and the last thread of yoongi’s restraint snaps.
Man-handling the younger onto the bed, back down, yoongi decides to skip the teasing. Reaching over to pull out the lube he’d put back in the drawer, he can’t help but remember last night. Jungkook was beautiful always, but the sadistic side of yoongi adored the way the younger looked with tears running down his ruddy cheeks, face crumpled and body taut from the agony of denial.
Now though. Now yoongi wants to watch the younger’s face as he comes. Face scrunching up as he crashes, as he takes what yoongi gives, takes it even when it becomes too much. To the point where he can’t help but cum over and over again, begging for yoongi to stop, pleading that it’s too much.
Jungkook had complained about not being able to come. And well, yoongi was just trying to give him what he wanted.
With this in mind, yoongi turns to jungkook, eyes large and darkened. The maknae was now lying docilely on the bed, softer side turning him pliant.
“You’re so beautiful like this, bun. Ready to do what daddy says, hmm. Good boy bun.” yoongi coos.
Jungkook only flushes softly under the praise, soft cheeks reddening, this vulnerable side making him quieter with yoongi. Yoongi strokes his flushed cheek adoringly with the back of his finger, before brushing a delicate kiss against his forehead. Softer jungkook meant softer yoongi.
Yoongi uncaps the lube bottle, banana flavored (strangely), and drenches his fingers in the cold liquid. Rubbing his fingers to warm up the lube, he asks softly, “Baby boy, can you take off your boxers for me?” He receives a small nod, as jungkook tugs his boxers down his pale legs and drops it to the floor.
“Should I- should bun take of his shirt, daddy?”
Yoongi’s gaze flickers up to jungkook’s anxious face, before smiling softly, “If you want to, bun.”
He watches jungkook fidget with the hem of his shirt, before ultimately leaving it on. The oversized, soft grey shirt hangs around mid-thigh, enveloping jungkook’s rather large frame, rendering him softer, more vulnerable.
“Spread your legs for me, baby.”
Jungkook obliges parting his legs, before shyly lifting the edge of his shirt to his mouth, where he bites onto it. Yoongi’s breath catches at the sight in front of him. The beauty and trust in it leaves him reeling slightly, hands shaking minutely.
God, did he love jungkook.
He shuffles between the younger’s spread legs, moving his hand to the other’s fluttering hole, warmed up lube dripping. Gently circling the other’s hole, he watches jungkook’s face tense then relax, stress melting out of his frame before a shaky sigh escapes his pouting lips. Satisfied, yoongi focuses back on opening up the younger, one finger slipping inside the other slowly, before he starts pumping it in and out. Curling his finger up into the tight heat, he searches for the other’s prostate, eager to hear the small whimpers jungkook gives him.
Brushing against jungkook’s bundle of nerves elicits a strangled whimper from the back of his throat. His hole clenches down on yoongi’s finger, body tensing, doe eyes tearing up.
“Relax bun, loosen up baby.” yoongi tuts.
“ ‘m trying, bun’s trying, it fee- ah! I-it feels so good, daddy.” jungkook can only whine.
Yoongi pets softly at the sides of jungkook’s waist, placing gentle butterfly kisses on sensitive inner thighs. Once he feels jungkook’s muscles relax, he starts opening him up again, pressing deeper with each in-motion. Slowly he works the younger up to two fingers.
There’s something humbling about watching jungkook give himself over to yoongi, trusting yoongi to take care of him. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give the boy everything he wants.
Two fingers scissoring open jungkook, and he starts whimpering with each breath. Two fingers curling up and brushing against his prostate and he keens lowly, knees jerking up and towards each other. Two fingers rubbing at his prostate and he can’t stop mewling piteously: legs trying to clamp shut, hands wrenching at the sheets, head turned to the side and buried in the pillow.
The dizzying pressure on his prostate leaves him reeling from the jolts of pleasure wracking his body. Yoongi watches the way his cock drips all over his tummy, the constant stimulation becoming too much.
“Daddy. Daddy! St-stop, too much. Hurts daddy!” jungkook pleads.
Yoongi pulls his fingers off the bundle of nerves, instead rubbing circles into jungkook’s inner thigh with his other hand. Jungkook breathes out, relieved.
“What’s the flavor of the lube, bun?”
Staring down blankly at his boyfriend, jungkook’s clouded mind scrambles to function. It’s only when he recognizes that yoongi’s eyes are filled with protective caution does realization flitter through jungkook’s mind; yoongi was giving him an out. He rests his head back against the (excessive) amount of pillows yoongi -they- have. Pausing for a moment, so that his heartbeat can stop pounding in his ears, he croaks out:
When nothing happens he chances a look down to see yoongi staring back at him. Giving yoongi a small nod, he burrows deep into the pillows, lifting his shirt up from where it had fallen out of his mouth.
Carefully the two fingers start scissoring him open again, before a third finger slides in with a wonderful burn, the stretch of it parting his lips as a gasp slips out.
Soon enough the burn slips away, leaving behind the numbing pleasure of being full. Yoongi stops scissoring him open and instead searches for his prostate again.
Pressing against it yoongi watches jungkook’s form jerk erratically, the concentrated pleasure too much for his highly responsive body. Despite jungkook’s whining for yoongi to slow down, yoongi circles the other’s sweet spot wanting to milk jungkook’s orgasm out of him.
Wrapping his hand around jungkook’s weeping cock, he rubs tight circles into the tip of the younger’s cock. Jungkook thrashes, wails leaving him, lips pouting as large tears slide down onto the pillows. As yoongi watches, the younger’s body becomes more and more tense, balls tightening as broken moans and sobs spill out his bitten-red mouth.
“D-daddy, daddy, dadd-y, daddy.” jungkook chants, hiccups breaking up the words.
“Yeah bun?” Yoongi continues placing kisses along jungkook’s inner thigh and hipbone.
“ ‘m gonna come. ‘m gonna come! Daddy, pl-ease!” Jungkook’s pitch raises, every circle pressed into his prostate bringing him that much closer to coming.
“You can come, bun, daddy isn’t going to stop you.” Yoongi starts rubbing faster, eager to see jungkook’s face as he comes.
Yoongi watches the way jungkook’s body contracts, soft abs rippling as pleasure tears through him. His hole clenching down on his fingers tightly. Looking up from the younger’s puffy hole, yoongi watches as jungkook’s petal-like lips drop open, gasping for air he never seems to breathe. Delicate eyelids and long lashes flutter shut against flushed, full cheeks as doe eyes roll back, his orgasm overwhelming him. Yoongi watches as his pretty little cock twitches once, twice, before spurting strips of cum over his clenching abs, sweat sliding down a toned chest to drip between the lines. Yoongi swallows dryly as a pool of cum settles in the dip of jungkook’s arched stomach, orgasm not letting up as his cock dribbles more cum and yoongi massages his swollen gland.
Slowly jungkook’s dazed eyes open, body occasionally twitching from the drawn-out orgasm, overstimulation threatening to set in as yoongi keeps at fingering him. Teary whimpers pour from his mouth in a constant stream, though no words leave.
Yoongi looks back down to jungkook’s puffy, red hole and softening dick, and presses his fingers in harder. Jungkook’s entire body jolts away from him, dick making a valiant attempt to harden. A quiet sob leaves swollen, red lips before jungkook slurs out, “No more daddy, ‘m done, ‘m done, bun came, please ‘s too much.” When the abuse of his sore prostate doesn’t let up, he reaches down with trembling fingers to grasp yoongi’s wrist.
The elder’s hand stills, “Baby do I need to tie your hands to the headboard or are you going to be a good bun and let daddy do what he wants?”
Jungkook squeaks, hand retracting so fast he almost hits himself in the face. “Don’t tie bun, bun wants to touch please.”
Instead of replying, yoongi lets a soft smile grace his lips and goes back to massaging the other’s prostate, pushing jungkook back into oversensitivity. The other’s thick thighs tremble and threaten to clamp down on yoongi’s hand from the sensations. Pained sobs and moans leave jungkook’s mouth, body trying to squirm away from the merciless touch. But yoongi clamps down one surprisingly firm arm around his waist and jungkook can do nothing but take it. The younger keens desperately while he takes the brutal overstimulation.
Despite jungkook’s betrayed whines, yoongi knows he’s enjoying it: cock twitching and chubbing up, eyelids fluttering, and drool spilling past his sloppy mouth.
When the younger’s length has hardened fully, beads of pre-come bubbling over the tip, yoongi gently removes his fingers from jungkook’s hole. Lifting himself over jungkook, one hand clasped on a tiny, tiny waist and the other planted firmly on the bed, he hovers waiting for jungkook’s eyes to open. Round, doe eyes blink open, lashes clumped together with tears. Yoongi bends down to press a small kiss to bruised lips. Jungkook arches up into the kiss, a small moan swallowed by yoongi. Yoongi makes to withdraw but a needy sound from jungkook and the older flutters kisses all over bruised lips.
A content feeling clouds over jungkook, the care and love from the tiny kisses washing over his sore body. He sighs into the kisses, stretching like a particularly adorable kitten; curled fists, squished eyes, and arched back. Once his muscles stretch and relax, he settles against the bed watching yoongi hover over him with awe filling his eyes. Shyly smiling jungkook waits for yoongi to say something.
Without fail, “Is bun up for another round or..?”
Jungkook should have known his orgasm wasn’t the end of it. Yoongi hadn’t come after all.
“Bun might not be up for it, but koo is.” A scrunch of his nose and a large bunny smile: jungkook stares back up at yoongi.
“Oh. You back with me kook-ah?” yoongi internally squeals at his little baby.
Fluttering lashes and a deep inhale, followed by a quick, “yeah, hyungie.” and yoongi relaxes.
Yoongi adores jungkook’s more submissive side, but it wasn’t always the safest for consent. The younger’s hazy mind not always accounting for his body’s limits. This though - lazy smiles, pliant body, and present mind - this yoongi loves just as much.
“Are you going to fuck me hyung?”
“Well, move your lazy ass and get to it.”
“You brat! I should just fuck your thighs and call it a day.”
“Please. You love my ass too much.”
“I like you better when you’re begging, you little shit.”
“Are we trying to state the obvious here? Seriously fuck me, we don’t have all day.”
Yoongi doesn’t bother deigning him with a response, just feels for the lube bottle, while jungkook weakly pushes yoongi’s sweatpants down his thighs, leaving them there. His cock slaps against his stomach, causing yoongi’s breath to catch. Pouring way too much onto his fingers, he watches the way jungkook’s hungry eyes trail up the length of yoongi’s cock, to the obscene amount of lube yoongi is using. They both did, after all, like it wet.
Slicking up his cock, yoongi nudges jungkook’s legs apart further to give him more room to kneel. Grasping the back of jungkook’s knees, he guides them over his shoulders, before leaning down closer to jungkook’s chest. Everyday yoongi thanks god for jungkook’s black belt and flexibility.
“C’mon hyungie, stop teasing me!”
“Patience, jungkook.” Yoongi lines up his cock and presses in slowly. The head of his cock stretches jungkook out.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jungkook throws his head back against the pillow and arches up his neck, displaying unmarked skin.
Yoongi groans. “You’re so fucking tight, shit, baby. So tight around me, kook-ah.”
The tight heat around his sensitive cock is fucking heaven. Yoongi can feel the way jungkook’s walls flutter around his length, delicious pressure on his dick. Bottoming out, he grunts, waiting for jungkook to give him the green light to fuck his brains out. Sitting still, he watches jungkook lay beneath him, mouth gasping silent breaths, before he whines out a non-verbal ‘go-ahead’. Sucking in a breath, yoongi grasps jungkook’s toned thighs firmly before he starts off with a slow, deep pace. The same one he knows drives jungkook fucking crazy.
Each slide in reaches deeper and deeper, brushing up and against the younger’s abused prostate. Yoongi watches the way jungkook locks up his body, pleasure already past ‘too much’ but with nowhere to go, he can only bite down and take it.
Every once in a while, a fuck of his hips in, and yoongi’s dick will jab straight up into jungkook’s sensitive prostate. The elder watches in delight as jungkook practically screams each time, tears dripping down his already stained cheeks from being fucked past overstimulation. But yoongi wants at least one more orgasm from jungkook today, so he grips the other’s flushed cock in his hand and starts fisting it in time with his thrusts. A flick of wrist at the end and he has jungkook screaming his name with each slide.
“Oh-Oh no, please. Too sensitive, t-too sensitive, koo’s cock ‘s too sensitive. Please-“, a shriek of pained pleasure, “hyungie! N-No don’t touch!”
One trembling hand covers his face, as he sobs violently, the other fisting whatever his hand can find in an attempt to ground himself. His little cock is roughly fisted, callouses catching on his sensitive head. His thigh’s tremble in his boyfriend’s hold, body trying to jerk away yet press against the thick cock fucking him dumb.
Eventually it starts to become devastating - each jerk of yoongi’s hip, as his cock fucks him open - and jungkook can no longer do anything but shake to pieces, tears steadily falling from his eyes, voice mute.
Finally. Finally jungkook rips at the bed with clawed hands, heels digging bruises into yoongi’s back, and comes.
Comes with small pathetic spurts, cum dribbling down the sides of his limp dick, practically howling from the climax.
Yoongi fucks him through it. And then keeps going. Even when jungkook is trying to push him away, words pleading for no fucking more, “oh my god, fuck-ing stop, shit, fucking STOP!”
“Fuck. You.” gritted teeth and a grin clash.
“Mmm, close but not quite.”
Fucking jungkook through one orgasm, yoongi knows that the next one isn’t too far behind. Though it’s probably going to be dry, and it’s definitely going to hurt. Like a bitch. Speeding up his motions, yoongi fucks jungkook from one orgasm to the beginnings of another. The other is thrashing on the sheets, pillow bent over his face as if he’s trying to suffocate in it.
Jungkook flails, his limbs flying everywhere, unsure what exactly to do to make it stop. To make it faster. It hurts like a bitch but jungkook loves it, loves the control, loves that he doesn’t have a fucking choice, “I’m gonna make my little slut come again.”
“Yeah? Yeah, you’re my slut huh?”
“Oh oh oh, fu- yeah. Yeah.”
He would bet his life that yoongi smirked. Fucking asshole, yoongi better be glad that he could fuck properly or else jungkook would probably have murdered him a long time ago. A sharp, exquisite pressure on his battered prostate, and all thoughts of violence disappear from jungkook’s mind.
Gazing from lust-filled eyes, he watches the way yoongi’s muscles flex from fucking him. He watches the way drops of sweat trail down yoongi’s chest, glistening enticingly. Most of all, he watches the way yoongi watches him. Watches the flickers of emotion on yoongi’s face, the lust, love, and trust in his eyes.
Yoongi’s face tightens, and jungkook can tell he’s close to coming, and so is jungkook despite the fact that his cock refuses to get hard again. Fuck it. He’d always loved dry orgasms the best anyways.
Five more thrusts, ten more thrusts, and jungkook’s climax takes him by surprise, eyes widening before screwing shut, the intensity of it whitening his vision. Distantly, jungkook thinks he hears himself scream yoongi’s name loud enough for the others to hear.
When he comes to he can feel the gentle, erratic thrusts of yoongi coming in him. An involuntary sliver of pleasure sparks in him at the sensation of yoongi’s come filling him up.
One day. jungkook was going to make yoongi come in him so much it looked like he’d been knocked up. Fuck. Even the thought - walking around with yoongi’s cum plugged up inside him, bump in his stomach from the excessive amounts - has his cock twitching.
But it was much too soon for that.
my parents warned me about the drugs in the streets but
never the ones with big brown eyes and a heartbeat
They cleaned themselves up, lazy kisses between lazy touches, in a warm shower.
To yoongi, it felt a little like healing, a little like loving. Washing the other’s drained body, he felt useful... no, that wasn’t it.
He couldn’t find the proper word to describe the happiness, fulfillment, and love he felt from taking care of jungkook. Watching as jungkook placidly leans against the shower wall, yoongi cleans himself up, softly scrubbing the sweat of his body and the cleansing serum he’d put on his face in the morning.
For some reason, his boyfriend seemed to think it was a moisturizer, god save him. Yoongi, for the life of him, couldn’t understand how a bright pink liquid could be a moisturizer. More often than not, yoongi could never understand what went through the boy’s mind.
“You done, hyung?”
Jungkook has his eyes closed, sleepily resting his head against the wall.
“Yeah, come here babe, I’ll towel you off.”
A tired, “You’re the best, hyung.” floats by yoongi’s ears, and he shakes his head fondly.
Gently guiding jungkook out of the shower, he takes one of the immensely fluffy towels he keeps in the bathroom (per jungkook’s request) and dries both of them off. Lightly shivering, jungkook leans in to him, causing him to stumble back before he catches himself with a foot.
“You brat, you know you’re bigger me, does it look like I can carry you?”
“Then what’s the point of you, hyung, you should carry me like a good boyfriend.”
Jungkook is teasing, yoongi knows this. Can tell by the tone of voice, and the playful body language he adopts. But it still stings. Still burns that maybe yoongi isn’t a good boyfriend; that he can’t give jungkook everything he deserves, oh god, his boyfriend deserves so so so much, what does yoongi even have to offer?
He fakes a smile, but jungkook has already tensed, realizing that he must of have hit a nerve. Well, yoongi supposes, it’s time for them to talk.
“Come on, let’s get some clothes on us, and then we should talk, yeah? I’ll text joonie that we’re gonna be busy for a bit.”
And with that they separate, entering the bedroom. Jungkook goes for the drawer yoongi had long ago designated to him, to find some clothes. Making his way to the larger, walk-in closet yoongi grabs his phone to shoot a text to namjoon. Sending a quick, “we’ll be busy” he tosses the phone on the bed, and grabs the first few clothes he finds in the closet. Quickly pulling them on, he turns to see jungkook sprawled across the bed: starfish, face turned sideways toward him, stomach down.
Taking in the warm sight, yoongi pads his way to the bed. Delicately he sits on the edge of the bed, before saying fuck it and crawling ungracefully to the middle. Snorting at the sight he must have made, jungkook pulls himself up, sitting Indian style, seemingly waiting for yoongi to say something.
Yoongi had forgot about the whole talking part of communication.
Taking a deep breath he starts off, “I owe you an apology, first. I am so sorry that I did not give you the proper attention and- and love that you deserve. I’m not trying to make this out as if you can’t survive without me or my care or something. But as your boyfriend I should have paid much more attention to your feelings.”
While he’s speaking, yoongi observes as jungkook curls up a little, eyes casted down, as a faint blush rises. An unreadable expression crosses jungkook’s face, and he trains his eyes back on yoongi.
Sorting through his thoughts, yoongi continues, “As... your boyfriend I feel, and I k-know that I did not treat like you deserved. I spent so much time with jimin, and I promise you. On my life, on my music, on Holly that nothing happened. I- God I love you jungkook. More than I honestly love anything. I am so so fucking sorry, baby. So sorry.”
There’s a pause while both of them take in the words hanging in the air. Jungkook seems to be contemplating something, a little, cute crease between his eyebrows. Absently jungkook plays with the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, fiddling with some loose threads. The ridiculously large clothing gives him sweater paws, his hands a little floppy looking and a lot cute.
Finally the younger appears to have come to a conclusion, because he looks adorably determined.
“I- I accept your apology hyung. Thank you, for, you know, apologizing.” A cute blush overtakes his embarrassed features, before he focuses back on his words. “That really meant a lot, you know. And..uh.. and I believe you! I believe you. I know you would never cheat that’s not you hyung, have a little faith in my faith in you.” His nose scrunches up at the convoluted sentence, and yoongi doesn’t understand how someone can just own his heart like that.
Shyly, “I love you too hyung~”
Earnestly, “Please believe me, when I say I love you with my entire heart. I could- I could go on for hours talking about why, and, uh, I have.” An embarrassed smile punctuates the statement.
Yoongi can only stupidly smile back, a puppet to every breath the other takes.
“And I, maybe, have an apology for you. To.” This jungkook says a little meekly, peeking from under his lashes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you when I started feeling- feeling-.” he searches for the word, glancing around as if it might appear written in air.
A sigh, “I don’t know, I guess insecure would be the word? Yeah, let’s go with that.” Yoongi has never more wanted to wrap the other up, shower him with exactly everything yoongi can’t give him. Yoongi feels desperate, useless.
Curling into himself, jungkook looks to have sorted his mind, starting again much firmer.
“I know I should have come to you to talk about what I was feeling. Because I knew you weren’t purposely avoiding me, and that it was probably just a slip of the mind or something. And I was wrong to try to make you jealous, especially using hobi hyung. Poor hobi hyung...”
“That’s not the point. The point is I’m sorry I didn’t give you the respect you deserved as my boyfriend. While you may have been sidetracked with jimin and other stuff, it doesn’t excuse me treating you like that.”
A short silence.
“Oh, but I’m not in any way excusing you from ignoring me for basically two weeks.”
Grinning at him, yoongi replies, “I never expected you to, but thank you kook-ah. For the apology. I think we both had our roles in this mess. But hey we learned something from this. And that is...”
“...That you’re hot when you’re jealous?”
“Aish! You brat, have you learned nothing!”
Jungkook cackles unattractively, but yoongi has never heard a more beautiful sound.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, it’s communication is important and all that shit.”
“Yes and ‘all that shit’ is important.”
Jungkook looks slightly doubtful of that, and yoongi has to roll his eyes.
“But jungkook-ah, can we talk-
“what are we doing right now” jungkook snorts
yoongi shoots him a glare, and jungkook has the decency to look sheepish.
-about what you felt?”
Jungkook pauses at that; yoongi can read the hesitancy in his posture.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just want to know what you felt. And make sure you never feel that way again.” yoongi is quick to assure.
“It’s fine yeah, as long as you tell me something after.”
Jungkook stares at him for a couple of seconds, before visibly realizing that yoongi is expecting him to speak. His startled face brings an amused smile to yoongi’s lips.
“Oh. Um. Yeah. I guess. I guess I felt kind of insecure that you were spending so much time with jimin hyung. I just felt, lacking, like you didn’t want my company or something and that’s why you chose to spend more time with jimin-hyung? Like all I could think was ‘maybe hyung got bored’, or ‘maybe hyung likes jimin better’.”
Oh. Oh, how wrong that was.
“Baby, I could never. Never in a thousand years get bored of you. Believe me when I say that I love you and I adore you, your smile, your words, your presence more than I can explain. You know I don’t see jimin that way. I’ve never liked jimin, never will like jimin like that. How could I even look at him, when I have you right in front of me?”
Yoongi can tell that his words flustered jungkook. The younger’s face was covered with his sweater paws, but yoongi could see his blush peeking through.
“I’m assuming you want me to explain myself right? I- I’m taking that as a nod. Okay, well, um, this past week jimin and I had been working on a song. He just kind of came by and helped me with a track at the beginning of the two weeks, and then kind of just started stopping by every day. It was honestly at first to add some commentary or provide some suggestions. Plus I needed his voice, to kind of get some inspiration for lyrics, or to see if the beat fit. I think- You know how I sometimes lose time? Like I basically forget that time is a thing, so weeks happen in days for me? Yeah, it was like that. I lost time, but it wasn’t exactly because of jimin, it was kind of both talking to jimin but also working on the track.”
“Hyung, you should have just said so.” Jungkook cuts off his rambling, lifting his still bushing face from his hands.
That face was going to be his death. The entire two weeks with jimin, and yoongi hadn’t stopped thinking about jungkook once. Hell, he hadn’t stopped talking about him once (much to jimin’s annoyance).
“I know, I know. You know how I am jungkook. Just never think I don’t want to spend time with you, okay?” Yoongi reaches a hand out, lifting jungkook’s face to meet his eyes.
Nodding as much as he can in yoongi’s hold, jungkook holds his hands out as if asking for a hug. Yoongi, knowing his boyfriend’s quirks after all this time, bundles him up as much as possible and lowers them to the bed. Cuddling never hurt anybody.
sometimes all you can do is lie in bed
and hope to fall asleep before you fall apart
Jungkook wants to believe his boyfriend. He really does.
Yet, as yoongi lowers them to the bed, and cuddles him just as he likes, jungkook can’t stop his mind from whirring.
Sure the explanation made sense and all, but how could yoongi not have noticed that he wasn’t spending time with his boyfriend? How could he have not cared that they hadn’t seen each other for two weeks? How could yoongi not thought about him even once in the two weeks they barely saw each other? They lived in the same fucking house for fuck’s sake.
Jungkook couldn’t help the doubts that creeped in. A part of him couldn’t help but think that yoongi liked jimin’s presence better. Maybe he preferred spending time with jimin instead. What if jungkook was keeping yoongi away from jimin? Would yoongi realize how much better he could do?
Jimin hyung was amazing. Jungkook adored his kind hyung; he knew how talented and brilliant jimin was. In all honesty, jungkook wouldn’t be surprised if yoongi was starting to see that too. Because all this time, jungkook has been so, so selfish. Keeping such a talented, hard-working, and good person all to himself. He didn’t even deserve yoongi, and maybe yoongi was starting to realize that.
Was yoongi starting to realize how much better he could do?
Desperately, jungkook did not want to believe the thoughts buzzing through his head, yet one rang true in his mind.
If yoongi truly loved him, how could he have forgotten about him for two weeks when they lived in the same fucking house?
the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored,
or being replaced